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thyme-in-a-bubble · 11 months ago

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blushing birthday

a/n: iihhh! first story in this slutty au! felt like this was a good place to jump off from. and also, i just wanna point this out because i nearly never do and perhaps some people don’t realise it, but if you have a thought, an idea, a wish or request in this au (or any other, my inbox is always open for requests) then feel free to click on my ask button and send it my way ♡

summary: “so, what I was thinking,” you tilted your head, “was that before I go give him his present, you guys could maybe help me prep a little bit, warm me up and stretch out my ass enough to fit his big fat cock. Would you guys like that?”

warnings: various x camgirl!reader, smut, porn au, college au, roommate!bucky barnes, roommate!steve rogers, roommate!curtis everett, ex!ransom drysdale, dilf neighbour!andy barber, reader's porn name is cherry blossom (UrLittleCherry), friends with benefits, happy hippie fun poly vibes, curtis’ birthday, partying, alcohol consumption, kissing, masturbation, impact play, fingering, toys, edging, clothed sex, voyeurism, exhibitionism, dirty talk, size kink, manhandling, multiple orgasms, anal, penetrative sex, unprotected sex

word count: 3953

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sugar & spice au masterlist | 101, intro to the au

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The last rays of sunshine for the day streamed in through the half-drawn curtains and cast soft shadows across your form as you sat cross-legged on your mattress.

With your reach outstretched towards your laptop propped up on the chair situated at the foot of your bed, you clicked on the go live button and watched as a countdown appeared on the screen, overlaying your visage staring back at you as your gaze briefly flickered around to check your gear one last time.

Thanks to your three roommates who’d insisted on helping you upgrade your setup, there wasn’t just one, but two cameras pointing directly at you. One angle to catch all of your frame and one zoomed-in to capture a perfect close-up between your legs.

“Hey guys!” a warm smile swiftly dazzled your features as you watched the first few people jump at your notification, “good evening or good–, whatever time of day it is for you.”

The messages in the chat started rolling in, some with usernames you recognised and some you didn’t.

TheFrogo: Hi Cherry! How are you? Have you had a good day so far?

DrownByPussy: Omg you’re finally live! I’ve been hard all day knowing I’d get to see you today.

“Hi Frogo, yeah, I’ve had a pretty good day, but I’m hoping that it might get even better, because I’ve got something pretty fun planned for tonight,” your hands absentmindedly fidgeted along the length of your legs as you spoke, “so, today is a friend of mine’s birthday and–, wait,” you paused and leaned in closer to catch a better look of the scrolling messages, “I haven’t seen you write in the chat yet, but birthday boy, if you’re here, you better log off right now or you’ll ruin your surprise,” you warned, glancing straight into the camera, “I’ll give you five seconds get off,” a pointer finger then kissed each of your digits as you counted down, “five… four… three… two… one,” you squinted a moment longer before a giggle bubbled out, “okay, so now that it’s just us, I can tell you what I’ve got planned,” you switched up your seat, moving your legs to comfortably kneel on the mattress with your frame slightly turned at an angle for you to better see the screen, but retroactively grant everyone a view of the curve of your spine as the line swooped down over your waist and blossomed into the plush of your ass, sinfully on display in the pastel blue, mesh lingerie you wore, “there is one thing in particular that he has just been begging for… any guesses?”

A_B_Cunt_Destroyer: Hmm… is it a particular fantasy? A little bit of roleplay action?

8inchStallion: Threesome?

“Nope. All fun suggestions, but no.”

TittyCokeKingXXX: Is it to bang in public?

Cream314159: How about anal?

“Cream! Yes! You guessed it!” you excitedly threw your hands up in the air, “it is anal that he’s been dreaming about.”

Ddadddy6969: I mean, who can blame him.

ItsBradBtch: Fucking same.

TearinYoBootyUp: Wish it was my birthday today so you’d let me fuck your tight little ass.

“So, what I was thinking,” you tilted your head, “was that before I go give him his present, you guys could maybe help me prep a little bit, warm me up and stretch out my ass enough to fit his big fat cock. Would you guys like that?”

KyleKyleson: Yes!

UrPervyDaddy398: Hell yeah, let’s get you ready to take that monster cock.

Casting a glance out of the nearby window, your eye couldn’t help but catch sight of the neighbouring house. It didn’t look like the divorced dad who resided there was home, though you still nevertheless searched for him. You weren’t completely clueless to his infatuation with you, though it had almost turned into a game, always trying to catch him peeping at you through the windows, or even taking it further by purposely wearing something skimpy when you’d go get the mail or other activities where you would know you’d bump into him. You didn’t judge him to be the type of man to ever really do anything about it, to actually reach out and grasp a wet dream of a girl so much his junior, but the teasing had become too much fun for you to stop, you were too far gone to draw the curtains closed now.

As a quiet jingle sounded from your speakers, indicating that someone had tipped you, your gaze flickered back towards the computer screen.

A_B_Cunt_Destroyer: Is that the underwear set I bought you off your wishlist? You look even more gorgeous in it than I imagined.

“Oh, thanks A,” you let your palms graze down over the thin mesh, feeling your pussy clench as your touch brushed over your nipples poking through the baby blue material, “yeah, it is. It matches the dress I’m planning on wearing tonight, so I thought I’d be cute.”

Call_Me_Sir_844: Turn around, Cherry. Let us see it from the back.

“Yes, sir, of course,” you chuckled lightly before shifting around, purposely arching your back as you glanced over your shoulder.

729AlwaysHard: How is your ass even real?

Like1OfUrFrenchGrls: Damn, that butt is just begging for a spanking.

Raking your touch down your sides, you smirked, “oh, you want me to spank my ass?” before the jingle of a tip echoed from the computer, “alright, baby,” and like a cat, your frame scooped down, gliding on to all fours and sticking your bottom high up in the air, “how many do you think? Let’s say, highest tipper gets to decide, but please, be kind, I still have to be able to dance the night away tonight.”

TittyCokeKingXXX tipped $50 – 10 spanks, with a paddle

BootyLover47 tipped $35 – 4 spanks

MrHansen tipped $100 – 6 spanks

“Thank you guys,” you wiggled playfully for them, “and Mr. Hansen, wow, thank you so much!” you squeaked ecstatically, “well, I guess I better start counting then.”

After each smack your palm landed on your propped-up bottom, the coinciding number rolled off your lips till your ass was tingling and sore for all your viewers to see.

WinterIsCumming: Fuck, just seeing your little pussy through those panties… they’re soaked, aren’t they?

Gliding a hand down between your legs, your fingertips ghosted over the sheer fabric that clung to your core.

“They are, Winter,” you blinked up at the camera, “man, I wish you were here to give me a hand.”

NastyBoi: Show us that pretty little pussy, come on, don’t be shy now.

“You want me to take my underwear off for you? Take them off so that I can really play?”

And with the chimes of tips swiftly ringing in your ears, one of your fingers then hooked in the gusset and carefully peeled it to the side, letting it act as a frame as you momentarily teased them with just a glimpse of your glistening folds, before you slowly slid them off completely.

Eventually, after your slick digits had gotten a chance to warm you up and tease you till you were practically buzzing on both of the camera angles that now displayed you, as it hadn’t taken you very long till you switched to a split screen, both your face frozen in a silent moan and your pretty holes drooling for attention pressed up against one another, side by side on the stream, your fingers then reached for a toy, the pretty glass dildo you had picked out just before the show.

You first popped the toy in your mouth as you flipped around and relaxed back against your pile of pillows. Letting your gaze flicker over the downright filthy comments rolling across the screen, you sucked on the toy for a bit before pulling it out and letting it float down south.

“Fuck,” your eyes fluttered slightly as you rubbed the tip gently against your little rosebud, “oh, that feels so good.”

Cream314159: Yeah, Cherry, tease that little ass like a good slut.

8inchStallion: Fuck, you’re gonna make me blow my load soon if you keep looking like that.

Ddadddy6969: Has your fuck buddy really never had your ass before? Tbh kinda hard to believe considering what a whore you are for all of us. I love your anal shows, they’re always my favourite.

“I know, daddy,” a light giggle tore through your form, “I’m honestly kinda surprised as well, but no, it hasn’t happened yet.”

BongDong420: Wait, are you an anal virgin? Plot twist.

“No, no, I’m not, I love anal,” you sucked in a gentle gasp as you let just the tip of the toy breach your tight opening, “I just haven’t really done it yet with too many different people. Actually, I’ve only done it with one so far, now that I think about it,” you swiftly shook your head and forced your eyes to flicker to the messages to rid your thoughts of your ex.

Call_Me_Sir_844: Please open your mouth, I’m gonna cum!

“Oh, yes, please cum for me, sir,” you answered the comment and then let your lips part wide. As your tongue stuck out as well, a string of saliva soon dripped down as you waited, the spit colliding with your tits and running down your cleavage.

A_B_Cunt_Destroyer tipped $550 – Don’t let yourself cum. Edge yourself so that you can be all drippy and dumb for him like a good little present should be.

Since you and your roommates lived in a residential area too quiet for college ragers, some of the guys Steve and Bucky were on the football team with offered to throw the bash at their fraternity.

Music blared, nearly making the entire house rumble, as you walked around the place, searching for the one of your roommates who the party was in honour of.

Fiddling lightly with the hem of your silky dress as you peeked into the room where a rowdy game of beer pong was afoot, you still felt a little dizzy as desperation soaked through your ruined panties.

Though, as you checked the kitchen, a bulky frame bumped into you, though it wasn’t just any run-of-the-mill frat boy, incapable of watching where they went, it was the very last person you wished to lay your eyes upon.

“Y/n, hey,” the trust fund kid caught your arm before you could slip away.

“Ransom,” you couldn’t help but clench your jaw as you tried to free yourself of his hold, “hello.”

“I didn’t know you were gonna be here tonight.”

“Why wouldn’t I be here?” you nearly scoffed as you squinted up at him, “it’s my roommate’s birthday party.”

“Right, forgot you moved in with all of them, became just one of the boys…” as a beat of silence fell over him, he let his gaze then rake over your form, lapping up the soft blue material that draped across your curves, “you look good tonight, by the way.”

“I–…” your eyes fluttered shut as you let out a sigh, “Ransom, can we not? Just for tonight, can we not do all of this? Just let me be here, celebrate my friend, and then after that, if you so wish, we can get back to our regularly scheduled program. Just one night of peace, that’s all I’m asking for.”

His dark brows then furrowed as he cocked his head, “babe, come on–”

Cutting him off with a scoff, you spat, “I haven’t been your babe since you broke up with me.”

He had been all for landing a girl that was essentially a wet dream come true when it came to all of the sinful areas you were itching to explore with him, but what hadn’t been a part of his plans was having a girlfriend who wasn’t exclusively a slut for him and him alone. He’d told you to choose between him and your dirty little hobby, but to his surprise, you hadn’t even hesitated when you didn’t choose him.

A low sigh then puffed from his lungs, “fine.”

Heatedly ripping your arm free, you echoed, “fine,” before turning on your heel and exiting the kitchen.

Luckily, your search didn’t drag on too much further before you stumbled upon your celebrated friend.

“There you are!” you exclaimed, your voice ushering Curtis’ head to twist in your direction, his glance shifting from the pool table before him.

“Baby!” he swiftly threw open his inked arms and pulled you close, “hey!”

Hearing the heavy balls clank around on the table, you asked, “are you in the middle of a game or could I steal you away for a sec?”

“Nah, not this round,” he withdrew only ever so slightly, letting one of his arms stay draped over your shoulders, “what do you need?”

Pulling him with you in the direction of the wide staircase, you smirked, “I just have a present to give you…”

“Another one?” he blinked as you dragged him up the steps.

“Well, you deserve the world, so yes, you get another one this year,” you offered him a warm smile.

“Man,” he exhaled as you reached the upper level, “happy birthday to me,” a smirk spread across his features as he willingly let you push him into one of the rooms.

It was a study room filled with long communal desks, tall bookcases and velvet armchairs. It was also, thankfully, vacant of any other partygoers.

“Happy birthday, Curtis,” you didn’t waste any time, the door barely managed to slam behind you, before you yanked him in for a kiss.

It took him a second before he caught up with your sudden actions, but as soon as he did, a gentle giggle rumbled from his intoxicated form and vibrated against your lips as he enveloped his long arms around your frame.

Feet shuffling, your roommate soon bumped into one of the tables, lending him to half sit on it as you let your touch rake down his figure. Even with the swift and determined pace your desperation drove you to have, it still didn’t take that long for Curtis to be on the same page as you, and when your palm fluttered down to cup him through his pants, the tent twitched beneath your touch.

At first, when you then withdrew from the kiss, Curtis instinctively followed your disappearing lips till he noticed your knees buckling as you sank down onto the floor.

“This is so much better than losing at pool,” he gazed down at you between his thighs, nearly hypnotised as you tugged at his zipper.

“I’d sure hope so,” you nearly scoffed as you freed him of his binds, not hesitating to lean in and swipe your tongue silkily against the very tip of him as soon as you had the chance, “although, you know I never mind being a consolation prize.”

“Consolation prize?” his tone filtered through a soft groan as your fist enclosed around his base, twisting slightly as it jerked up to graze your mouth, “that’s not what you were last week.”

“Yeah, but that was different,” your giggle vibrated against him, “it’s okay, baby. Maybe next time we play at home you’ll get to win and show the others who’s boss,” you purred before your lips enveloped fully around his fat girth.

When spit and slobber soon bubbled out and dripped down onto your chest from your efforts, you got back up to your feet. As you let the back of your palm wipe a bit of the mess from your chin, you twisted your frame around and let your spine melt back against this broad chest.

As you felt Curtis’ fingers dig into your dress and hike it up, you rolled your hips back against him, nearly dizzy with want. Gliding a hand down between your thighs, you captured the sodden material, utterly ruined and clinging to your core, before you yanked it to the side, the leaky mess not yet ready to let go of the panties and spiderwebbing to where you pulled it to the side.

Reaching around, your grip captured his cock once again as you tilted him to teasingly brush through your folds, your activities from earlier made it almost pathetic how sloppy you got him in a matter of seconds.

As his lips pressed to your cheek in a hot kiss, you glanced over your shoulder to catch his eye and take in his reaction.

You didn’t warn him, nor say anything at all. Only a smirk glimmered on your lips as a forewarning before you led him away from the leaky entrance he naturally assumed you’d let him into, and instead arched your back and eased his slicked-up length into somewhere else.

“Oh–, holy shit,” his eyes flickered down to affirm what you were doing before blinking up at you in the assumption that it was a mistake, “baby, you’re–”

“I know,” you smiled at the way his chest heaved at the realisation.

“Wait, seriously?”

“Told you I had another present for you,” your gloating grin softened at the moan that slipped out as you sank down just a little further upon his dick.

His fingers dented both sides of your hips as you slowly let him feel more of you, “oh my god, you’re the fucking best…”

It was shallow at first, gentle as you controlled the pace, though still mind-meltingly intense as you fucked back against him till your knees began to wobble, feeling each and every little detail of his stretch your little ass out.

You felt his hot breath on the side of your face between the lazy pecks he planted there and occasionally veering further south to try and mark your neck up with his bites.

“O-oh, fuck,” you whimpered when one of his inked arms snaked around to your front and stretched down to rub your clit, swollen and throbbing between the pads of his rough fingers.

Since you’d backed away from the edge not too long before, its overwhelming return was swift and quickly rendered you a shivering mess in his arms as your rhythm came to a rest and the tight circles he drew over your puffy pearl pushed you into insanity.

Eyes still shut as you were panting for breath, you felt Curtis pluck up your chin and tilt it so that his lips could seize yours.

Though the blissful pause didn’t last very long before he manoeuvred you around, manhandling you into a new configuration, though all the while never slipping his cock out.

His palm was heavy against your back as he whirled you around and bent you over the table. Cheek smooshed against the smooth wooden surface, the thunderous snap his hips then offered caused the desk to rattle beneath you.

However, just as you sensed him begin to lose himself, burying his cock so deep inside of you that it caused you to see stars, the creaking sound of the door to the study swinging open sliced through the lewd harmonies already filling the room.

Even though you couldn’t really glance over your shoulder to see who it was that entered, the recognisable voices that then found your ears calmed your worries about why Curtis’ pace for some reason hadn’t slowed down in the slightest.

“No, I’m not kidding, that’s really what–, oh,” Bucky’s sentence paused as soon he spotted you, “hello you two.”

You attempted to tilt your head against the table as the last of your roommates came into view, shut the door behind them and stepped closer.

As you reached out a wobbly hand to grasp Steve’s, he sweetly caught it in his and chuckled at your cock drunk visage, “hey.”

“Hmm–, hi…” you attempted to greet them, Bucky swiftly bending down to briefly be at your height, letting his fingers brush some of your hair out of your face as Curtis’ efforts jolted your frame against the table at every feverish thrust.

“Was wondering where you guys were,” Steve held onto your hand a little longer as his glance met the blissful gaze of the man who was balls deep inside of you, “I thought she already gave you her little present.”

“You knew?” Curtis tilted his chin, to which you tried to explain with a mumble, though one of your roommates didn’t hesitate to playfully ask you to clarify.

“I’m sorry what was that? You’re being too much of whore right now for me to understand you,” Bucky pressed a peck to your brow before straightening back up, “look, I would have totally told you man, but she threatened us not to ruin the surprise.”

“Yeah, said that if you didn’t get to take a dip first, then none of us ever would,” Steve added.

“Aw,” you felt Curtis kneed your bottom as he slammed into you, “you’d really have done that?”

“I did say you deserve the world, so yeah,” you managed to squeak.

“It’s so cute how sappy birthdays make you,” Bucky smirked, “such a shame not one of us even hesitates to exploit it.”

As one hand stayed glued to the curve of your ass, his thumb hooked in your underwear to grant not only him but the rest a perfect view of just how well you took him, Curtis’ other hand then stretched out to grasp the half-empty beer that Steve handed him, briefly taking a swig before handing it back.

“Yeah, she really is just such a good little girl, aren’t you?” Steve found a seat on one of the nearby chairs.

“Mhm…” you barely caught sight of how both of them palmed themselves for an ounce of relief.

Sitting down as well, Bucky squinted cockily back at you as your hazy eyes briefly caught his, “what was that, sweetheart?”

“I’m a–,” you blubbered as Curtis’ cock stretched you so wide that you even felt it press against the sweet spots in your throbbing pussy, “I’m a g-good girl–”

“Yes, you are, baby, that’s right,” Curtis chuckled warmly behind you before offering your ass a swift slap, “the fucking best.”

“Oh, oh! She’s so close to cumming, I can see it!” Bucky exclaimed in an almost mocking tone as your eyes began to roll, “just look at that face,” he nearly jumped to get closer, “so fucking pretty.”

“Come on, Y/n,” Steve leaned back in his seat and squeezed his hard-on as he stared at your fucked out form, “give us a good show. Make it good for the birthday boy.”

Although, unfortunately, you were already too far gone by then to take any of their lewd comments into account as you tumbled over the edge, floating in the sea of your cheering roommates as a soundtrack.

After your friend had emptied himself into your haven, he simply slid your panties back into place so that his cum could leak out of you for the rest of the party and ruin your sheer underwear completely, perhaps even give up entirely and run down your shaky legs for all to see.

Bending down to smother you back to life with kisses, you also felt Curtis’ arms tangle around you as he hugged you and slowly lifted you off of the table.

“You wanna go down and dance?” his low timbre tickled the shell of your ear.

“Just give me a second,” you breathed through your hazy smile as you fought to blink your eyes back open, “my legs will first have to start working again. Maybe you could take over the music for a second and queue up something slow,” you light-heartedly suggested with an airy chuckle.

“Don’t you worry, baby,” Bucky smirked from across the table, “we’ll help keep you upright.”

#lea’s writing #sugar and spice au #bucky barnes smut #steve rogers smut #curtis everett smut #chris evans smut #sebastian stan smut #andy barber smut #ransom drysdale smut #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes au #curtis everett x reader #curtis everett au #steve rogers series #bucky barnes series #chris evans x reader

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st4rymoon · 2 years ago

Text

✭ 𝐓𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 ✭

𝟏𝟖+ | 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭 | 𝐀𝐜𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐜 𝐑𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐬 | 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫-𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎'𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: a long read btw, arguing, impact play, academic rivals, slow burn, rough sex, hate sex, language, p in v, make out sesh, unprotected sex, annoying Miguel, reader has some anger issues on the low, breath play, teasing, sexual tension, semi-mean dom, after care

・Part two! Part Three!

“WHAT?” You yelled, both your professor and Miguel looking at you in shock after your professor asked you for a one on one with the both of you.

You could scoff at the way Miguel’s lips curled up into a satisfied smile “Well you and Miguel are my best students, so it would only make sense for the both of you to do a presentation together. I can only imagine the things the both of you will come up with!” Your annoyingly sweet professor clapped.

“ wouldn’t it be better if both of us did our own? We coul-“ You tried to negotiate “Ah ah! I said group project! Now Miguel, do you have anything to say about this? Any complaints like this one over here?”

You sighed as Miguel spoke “Nope, I’d be happy to work with someone in the same range as me” he cockily spoke “Very funny, now since we’ve got this all sorted, go and talk” she smiled, shooing you and Miguel out of the classroom.

You scoffed as you pushed past Miguel “Aww come on sweetheart, you hate me that much?” He cooed following close behind you.

“Shut it” you huffed. Getting paired with Miguel was possibly the worst thing to happen since your high school prom. Miguel was the bane of your existence since the first year of college.

Of course, his good looks and brains were attractive but sooner or later you realized he was going to be a pain in your ass for the next few months of class. You met him in your first biology class, everything was going well until the first exam of the class.

Your professor said the class average was low B’s and high C’s but out of the whole class, two people got perfect scores. Could you guess who the two were?

You and Miguel.

Both of you looked at each other from across the class with the same look in your eyes saying ‘Someone beat me?’. Of course, you both got the same 100% grade but both of you were so used to being the only one on top of the class that this was more than just a score. But your egos.

You both were fully aware to not be in each other's way, only seeing each other when studying at the same place or in class. All was going well for the next 2 exams, but the 3rd one came and you couldn’t believe it.

You got a 98% and Miguel has a perfect 100%. You could see him smile at the results and you hated the professor right now. Why the hell would he show the class? It’s embarrassing, to say the least.

Miguel gave you a wink as you looked his way ever so slightly. Bursting out of the class, you could feel him behind you “2 points down” he chuckled. You wish you would’ve punched him.

And ever since then, he’s made it his life mission to ruin your day. You never got anything other than 100% again, you busted your ass studying just so he couldn’t rub it in.

“I’ll make sure you can’t get us two points down” Miguel hummed as he kept up at your pace. You could feel your blood boiling, god he’s such an asshole. “I’ll email you if I need help” you scoffed.

“Can I get your number? I won’t get the email since my inbox is always spamming” Miguel lied with a smile “fine” you muttered out your number and walked off before he could stop you.

‘Real classy, I wasn’t done talking’ popped up on your screen “Well I am” you messaged back. You were well aware it was Miguel and you didn’t need him to piss you off more than usual.

The second you stepped into your apartment you let out a relieved sigh. Oh, how you missed this place in these insufferable hours. You put on some comfy panties and an oversized hoodie.

You were laid in your living room, soft carpet under you as you finished up some of the slides for your presentation. The knock at your door was the last thing you needed, you groaned in agony as you hated the thought of getting up from your warm spot.

The knocking grew and so did your patience’s “IM COMING!” You yelled. You pulled the door open and lo and behold, Miguel. “For fuck sake man” you whined.

“Glad to see you too!” He smiled as he pushed past you with books in hand. Miguel was born with the talent of hiding his emotions, that talent was most useful here.

He took a deep breath as you opened the door. Your pretty thighs glowing under the baggy hoodie, hair a slight mess and the satisfying look of anger on your face could’ve made him harm.

“Excuse you” you hissed.

He plotted down next to your things and got straight to work. You stood in shock, did he just walk in like this was his house? “Well go ahead and get comfortable” you mocked as you slammed the door in annoyance.

“I am” he sighed as he stretched and leaned onto your couch.

The both of you bickered and sneered at each other the whole time you both worked but even then, the quality was always top-notch.

He didn’t like the way you formatted the information and you didn’t like how he took up a whole slide for a few sentences but both of you compromised. After a few hours, things were less tense, and both of you got used to each other.

“So what do you plan on doing with your major?” You asked, legs crossed and some candy in your mouth as you questioned him “Biochemist” he nodded “It’s always been a passion of mine”

“You sure do have the brains for it” you chuckled. “You don’t with the 98%” he teased. You rolled your eyes, your mood now soured as you remembered his shenanigans.

“Don’t start” you scoff as you get up to get some drinks “Hey hey I’m joking” he laughs, his hand stopping you from leaving as he holds your wrist “I know Sherlock, I’m going to get some drinks for us” you mutter with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah,” he laughed awkwardly, his eyes watching as you grabbed two glasses of water. “So what about you?” Miguel asked “What are you doing with a chemistry major”

“Probably chemical engineering, I’m not sure yet” You shrugged as you handed him the cup. He nodded and watched you sit next to him. Miguel scooted a little closer making you stiffen, sure he was a pain in the ass but he’s sadly one of the most gorgeous guys you’ve seen.

You tried to ignore your thoughts each time he’d stretch and groan, his moans making you think about how he’d sound if it were from pleasure. He’d be vocal you thought.

“Let’s watch something on the TV” you awkwardly smiled as you grabbed the remote and turned on your TV, you laid on your stomach, forgetting you only had panties and a hoodie.

Miguel’s eyes watched you kick your feet up, your glowy legs looking perfect as you looked through whatever you were putting on.

He noticed the pink panties you had on, his tongue instinctively licking his bottom lip as he thought about how good you’d look on top of him. He can imagine it, tits in his face and pussy sleeving his cock as he fucked you full.

He was going to give himself a boner if he kept it up. He focused his eyes on the screen and sighed in relief as you sat back up. You put on your favorite show and sat next to Miguel “We’re almost done with the assignment which is good, how about a few more minutes of break and we get back to work?” You smiled. “Sure”

You felt his hand move behind you, his arm resting above the couch as he let out yet again another ‘stretch’ while his eyes looked at you through his peripheral, you chuckled. How cliche.

You smiled as you decided to make your cliche move. It was obvious there was tension between you two, whether that be anger or sexual, it didn’t matter. “Let me get more gummies” you hummed as you turned to the table beside you and arched your back slightly, an audible moan coming from behind you as your ass was on perfect display.

You sat back beside him, gummies in hand and an innocent look on your face as you offered him some. He scoffed, shaking his head and looking back at the TV. Your eyes widened as you noticed the thick bulge straining against his pants.

“Eyes up” Miguel cockily cooed as he watched your eyes closely. “I- I wasn’t-“You made a pathetic attempt to save yourself but he cut you off “Uh huh uh huh, I know” he mocked.

He smiled down at you with accomplishment, he finally made you shut up for once. “Not going to give me a snarky comeback?” He cooed. “Shut up already God, stop it” you hissed, your eyes rolling as you moved away from him.

“No no” Miguel’s voice made you shiver as his hand held your thigh “I’m playing” he pouted as he glared down at you. You could punch him right but instead, you did something you thought you’d never do.

You pushed him on the couch and slammed your lips on his. Miguel’s hands immediately wrapped around your waist, a loud moan spilling into your mouth as he finally tasted you.

It seemed like Miguel was waiting for you to do this, his hands ran up your thighs hungrily before he flipped you onto your back. You gasped as he spread your legs around his waist.

His behemoth of a body spread your legs wide as he buried his face into the crook of your neck. You tangled your fingers into his hair as both of you hungrily kissed each other.

The kisses were messy and rough, teeth nipping at skin and tongues lapping at each other like two animals in heat. None of you even said a word, just heavy breaths, moans, and pure lust.

Suddenly Miguel pulled back from your lips, his eyes glaring into yours as he hovered above you. You could feel yourself getting ready for some snarky comment as you watched his lips curve into a smile.

“You kissed me first”

You groaned as you pushed him off, his hands still on your hips as he flipped you back onto his lap “hey I’m not complaining, It’s just funny since I piss you of so much” he sighed. His palm moved up to your jaw, face brushing against his hand as you took in his warmth.

He watched you lean into his palm like a cat, his body heating up as he realized how small you look in his lap. Your thighs small compared to his but still plump and pretty.

“Can I kiss you again” you shyly asked slightly afraid that he’s reject. “You don’t have to ask me, just do it” Miguel hummed as he pulled you into a kiss.

The kisses were now more sensual and soft, both of you now grinding into each other. His hand curled onto the back of your neck; the other palm pinned behind your spine.

You were glued onto his chest as Miguel’s warmth filled your senses. You’ve never been so warm in your life, the feeling making you tingly as he held you as close as possible. It felt like nothing in the world could hurt you, you felt safe.

“Please” you whispered onto his lips. He tried to not make you mad but he loved seeing you angry “Please what?” He taunts, his lips hovering over your jaw and neck but never touching you.

“Mig don’t tease” you whined as you hit his chest lightly “I’m not, I just don’t know what you’re saying please for” his arms clinging around your waist as he takes in your sweet scent.

You decided to play your games “I want you inside me mig, want to show you how much I need you” you cooed, your hand running down his abdomen and stopping just above his bulge. His breath hitched at your words, he didn’t know if you were fucking with him or not.

“Oh yeah?” Miguel watched you with focused eyes, his hands running up the sides of your thighs and squeezing your ass “You want me to fuck some manners into you? That loud fucking mouth of yours is always pissing me off” he cooed.

Loud fucking mouth? Your hand went up to smack his face in anger but he caught your wrist before you could “Don’t even try it muñeca.” He sternly said “You won’t like what comes with that”

You angrily kissed him as he pressed you flush against his aching cock, his hands pull the baggy hoodie off your body leaving you in your matching panties and bra.

“Fuck” he whispered, hands on your waist as he took in the view he’s been dreaming of since the day he met you. The amount of times he’d imagine fucking your mouth until you shut up was concerning.

You pulled his shirt off in need, throwing it behind you as you ran your hands up his thick muscular chest. He hummed at your soft hands running up his skin.

“Sit up for me?” He mumbled against your skin as he kicked off his sweats. He smiled at how obediently you did as he said “You look prettier when you do as I say” Miguel mocked.

You could care less about his words as his calloused hands pulled your panties off in need “Just shut up and fuck me” you panted. Miguel smiled as he felt your lips pepper all over his jaw and onto his lips, he could see you were just as eager for him as he was for you.

“Beg” he blurted. You ignored him as you rubbed his cock between your folds, both of you letting out moans as you felt each other's warmth. Miguel seethed, arms pinning you up to his chest “Listen”

You hated that you got turned on by the fact that he now had you restricted with just one hand as the other held your jaw up “you want the guy you despise to fuck you? You tell me you hate me every time you see me but look so eager to fuck me”

You were tired of his teasing, you let out a desperate whine, you could see his cock spring up and his tip leaking precum. But like always, Miguel likes to rile you up.

“Beg” he repeated. “Please mig please, just stop teasing ok” you cried. “All you needed to listen to was this?” He purred, hands moving onto your hips as he thrusts into you.

Miguel let out a gruntled moan as he felt your warm wet walls hug him tight, his head falling back onto the couch as he finally felt your pussy squeeze him.

He watched your eyes squeeze shut while you let out the prettiest moans “f- fuck!” You cried, the stretch making you clench even tighter around him as he held you down to his lap.

His cock was fully buried inside you in one go, he’s the biggest you’ve had in every way. It was overwhelming feeling how full you were, you could feel his curves and the tip of his cock nudging at your cervix.

“Breath chula, r- relax” he sighed. Your nails dug into his shoulders as you nodded, you took a deep breath allowing you to make it easier for him to move. “That’s it” he hummed onto your shoulder.

It only took Miguel a few seconds for him to start fucking you onto his lap, your body shaping into his hands, allowing him to use your pussy like a flesh light.

“O- Mig mi-“ you whined out, you couldn’t explain what you were feeling. Your whole body was tingling in pleasure as he rammed into you with pure force. Maybe you did piss him off a lot.

“What? You c- can’t take it? Such a big fucking mouth but can’t take my dick?” He seethed. You let out a pathetic whine at his words, your mind completely fogged in pleasure as you took all of him.

Miguel’s eyes couldn’t leave your pussy, his eyebrows scrunched and his mouth agar as he watched your pussy struggling to take his size. He hissed as you pushed him onto the couch, using his shoulders for support as you bounced onto his lap.

Your pretty moans filled his ears as you took control. Miguel let you take control for a bit, he loved watching how eager you rode him. Your body bounces on his lap, wet sounds of skin slapping echoing into the room.

“Making such a fucking mess” he huffed with a smile on his face, although he was loving this, he wanted to see you completely vulnerable. He thought maybe he was a little sick for wanting to see someone who hated him so much completely ruined under him but he loved it.

You gasped as Miguel lifted you onto the ground, your back hit the soft carpet under you as he stayed buried inside you. “Gotta fuck that stupid little attitude out honey, always disrespecting me. You’re the only one who tries to push my buttons. I love it” he cooed.

Miguel’s calloused hands bend your legs to the side, giving him full access to your tight cunt. “Go- god shi- fuck!” Miguel panted, he was a complete fucking mess.

Sure Miguel’s fucked a few people in his life, but he had no idea if it was just the thought of fucking the life out of you or how perfect your body was for him. He convinced himself it was both.

You clawed and scratched at his chest, your eyes full of tears as he brutally pounded into your “m- Mig I-“You were even more fucked out than him. How couldn’t you?

You had no clue where he got his stamina from, it felt like he’d been fucking you for hours. “Can’t believe you tried to slap me, should I return the favor?” Miguel hissed.

You nodded to his surprise “Please” you whined. “You want me to hit you?” He was surprised by your plead. He knew you’d be a freak in the sheets but you were always so aggressive with him that he expected you to hit him for even suggesting it.

“You’re always a pain in my ass but you just want to be taken care of huh?… What? You need me to pound your pretty pussy out for you to treat me with some respect?”

You nodded eagerly, if you were being honest you couldn’t even take in his words. Your pussy clenched and throbbed around his fat cock in agony but you were taken by surprise when a slap landed on your face “Use your words” he hissed.

Almost immediately you cried “Yes yes! Miguel please I nee- need it, f- fuck ah!”

Miguel chuckled, his hips angled a bit higher which allowed him to hit the perfect stop. His hand flew around your throat, his hips pounding you onto the floor as he let out animalistic moans.

“M- Mig- ah fff- fuckk!” You cried. The restriction of your breathing mixed with his rough pounds caused orgasm hit you hard as your pussy throbbed around him, the tip of his cock nudging at your sweet spot continuously.

Miguel’s eyes rolled back as he felt your nails claw at his arms, your small hand wrapped around his wrist as he fucked you balls deep. His cock plunged into your messy cunt as his balls slapped onto you. “That’s I- that’s-“ he hissed.

He thought about pulling out for both of your sakes but he’d rather just buy you a plan B. “C- can I- inside?” He seethed his eyes burning into yours as you bounced to his thrusts.

You couldn’t get a word out but your legs wrapping around his waist and your nails digging into his back to pull him closer gave him the answer. His lips crashed onto yours as he spilled inside you, his moans spilling into your mouth as his fingers dug into your hips.

He’s never had an orgasm that hard, he was sweating and out of breath as he stilled inside you. The both of you cling onto each other in fear of either of you leaving but that was on the last of your minds.

Miguel lay beside you, his arms pulling you into his as he pressed a kiss onto your forehead. “Was I too rough?” He questioned with concern as he now fully took in how fucked out you looked. “No, it was perfect” you weakly muttered as you nuzzled into his chest.

Miguel sighed in relief as your sweaty body was pinned into his. “Where’s your bedroom?” He hummed as he began to lift you into his arms “left” you sighed as he carried you into your bedroom.

“Let me clean us up and then we can rest yeah? Unless you want me to leav-“

You cut him off before he couldn’t finish “Don’t leave. Please?.” You hummed a bit worried you sounded a little pathetic.

“Wasn’t planning on it love”

#smut #marvel smut #kinktober #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara imagines #miguel ohara #miguel o hara x reader #miguel x reader #moon knight smut #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel x you #miguel smut #miguel o hara #academic rivals

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pochipop · 1 year ago

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＃HOMICIPHER !! ♡ — DWELLING, ROTTING, SURVIVING (MR CRAWLING X READER).

#. synopsis! — speaking isn't the only way to understand, and he's oh so gentle .

#. characters! — mr crawling .

#. warnings! — canon-typical dark content + setting .

#. word count! — 1.7k .

#. alt accounts! — @ddollipop (nsfw) @hhoneypop (moodboards) .

#. others! — navigation & masterlist .

#. a/n! — hi, i posted, please stop bullying me in my inbox :(( - all jokes aside, thank you guys for all the nice messages and compliments! & happy pride to my lgbt followers! funnily enough, don't think i've ever "come out" on this blog, but if it's not obvious, i'm bisexual lol so there's that!

You found yourself pressed against a cold, damp wall in what you could only assume was a room close to the belly of this labyrinth-like building. Breaths came in shallow, frightened gasps as the lights overhead flickered ominously, like they were trying to warn you of impending danger. . . Danger that you felt sting your chest like needles poking through your skin. The oppressive silence surrounding you was broken only by your intakes of air and the soft, almost imperceptible sound of something —or someone— (or maybe a mixture of the two, in this God-forsaken place) nearby.

Squinting into the gloom, a familiar shape emerged from the dark hallway, slipping into the room with you and pausing in the doorway. You felt relief take hold of you.

Mr Crawling. . .

That, of course, likely wasn’t his real name, but you didn’t speak in the language of clicks, noises, and chirp-like sounds that he did, and he didn’t speak with your tongue either. It was for that reason in particular that you’d bludgeoned his head with a crowbar not long ago, to which he sulked in a corner, bleeding and whining, and you were left to feel terrible for hurting the first entity that had tried to go out of his way to show you true empathy in a way you understood.

Apologizing didn’t even begin to feel like enough. Probably because you were at least ninety percent sure he didn’t understand what you were saying anyway. Helping him with the wound perhaps made it slightly better. . . But also not really, because even now as he skims across the ground to where you are, there’s a sense of guilt that weighs heavy on your heart.

Pale, grey-skinned and moving like any non-human mammal of sorts, his face is mostly obscured by the long, stringy black hair that falls in vine-like, clumped strands all the way to the floor from his hunched position. There’s an unsettling, animalistic grace to the way he approaches, but you don’t flinch this time when he puts the flat of his cold palm against the crown of your head, as if trying to soothe your breathing. All of that initial fear has been replaced by a strange comfort of sorts, and you look up at him, thankful for his presence now more than ever.

He tilts his head, as if listening for something, and you watch him warily with the same crowbar clutched in your fist. A part of you felt bad carrying it around like that with his blood still smeared on it, but here, you knew it was foolish to venture around without a weapon of some sort. Not protecting yourself for the sake of his feelings was, unfortunately, not an option as far as you were concerned, but thankfully he didn’t seem to have any opinion on the matter.

“Mr Crawling,” you whisper softly, reaching out to take his hand into your own.

He seemed to really respond to physical touch, and if language was always going to get in the way, you figured it was best to bridge the gap in another manner. This was the next best thing you could think of.

His head raises, and you suppose he’s trying to meet your gaze, though you can’t see his eyes through the mess of his hair.

“I need to understand you,” you say.

Ironically, that’s a bit of a hopeless endeavor in this sort of environment. It’s not like you have all the time in the world to pick up a new, completely unrelated language to yours while fighting for your life. Still. . . Gesturing had been helpful previously, especially for directions. The hooded figure you ran into first was quick to point around, that severed hand that had guided you for a bit was just as poignant in that area, and the silver-haired entity with a blindfold over his eyes had also tried to communicate with you in that sense as well. So why couldn’t you do it vice-versa?

“Me,” you point to yourself, “you,” you point to him.

He stared blankly for a moment, then seemed to come to an understanding. His had retracted from your head to point at himself, then to you, a clicking noise coming from the back of his throat. You smile. It was a small victory amongst a series of devastating losses, but you were keen on taking it and running with it as far as you could stretch it.

“Okay,” you breathe, talking more to yourself than to him. “Let’s try this then. . .”

Feeling a surge of determination, you touch your stomach and then mime eating.

“Hungry. Eat.”

At this point, you were still too anxious to have an appetite, but you knew you’d need food eventually. You were hoping he’d be able to help you with that somehow. Up until this point, you hadn’t seen any evidence of there being food around here, ��no containers, boxes, or wrappings, but he seemed to understand your gestures and mimicked you; sitting back on his knees to rub his stomach through his filthy t-shirt, then nibbling on an imaginary item.

He looks back to you, as if seeking approval. You smile, hoping he understands that to be a sign of good will, then nod your head to drive home the association. Beneath his swath of hair, he smiles too, and you catch a glimpse of his eyes through the curtain of black strands; dark and thoughtful.

“Good,” you murmur, feeling slightly relieved.

If nothing else, this was progress. You spend a while longer trying to communicate basic needs and warnings: things like yes, no, stop, come, drinking, sleeping, and a thank you in the way of patting his head. You’re not sure he understood the depth of it by any means, but he did seem to enjoy it. . . Like a puppy. The thought made you smile genuinely and absentmindedly, if only for a moment. The clicks and chirps he makes are mostly lost on you, but the noises are comforting nonetheless. This rudimentary bridge of understanding soothes you just a little, and you find yourself feeling very thankful that he’s here in the first place.

He has your face cupped in his hands now, as if he’s inspecting you. . . Or perhaps admiring? That is, until you feel his body tense and all his little sounds abruptly come to a halt. A small growl reverberates from the back of his throat and his wide smile droops into a frown. Suddenly, he’s roughly dragging you along, tugging urgently on your arms, to which you comply and follow along with him, scooting across the floor until you reach a shadowed alcove. You hadn’t even noticed it before, but he seems to know his way around this place like the back of his cold, grey hand.

He covers your mouth for a moment, then shakes his head. You cover your mouth, take your hand away, then shake your head no, just to ensure to him that you’ve understood. He pats your head then crouches in front of you, using his own body as a makeshift shield for yours. His long, spindly arms cage you against the wall. Fear rises inside you once again, though not because of him and his actions. Rather, the faint, rhythmic thuds of footsteps have begun reverberating through the hall just outside, and you recognize the harrowing pattern they click in.

Mr Scarletella.

You encountered him once before and felt every hair on your body stand on end. The way he moved through the halls with a menacing flow that sounded almost eerily melodic, and the strange, unsettling red glow that seemed to exude off him that nearly drew you in like a moth to a flame. The steps echoed off the walls of the building and your heart began to hammer against your ribs. Mr Crawling moved closer as he came into view through the doorway that lacked any actual door to close, his long, black hair tickling your nose ever so softly. Dressed in scarlet and carrying his ever-present umbrella, you decide quite readily that you’ve seen enough, closing your eyes and focusing on the cool feel of Mr Crawling’s skin, on his musky scent (like mildew and a bit of rot, which isn’t necessarily pleasant, but it’s not like he can really help it down here.)

Though you’re no longer watching, the entity dripping in scarlet moves with an unsettling, almost predatory grace, glancing about the corridors as if he’s searching for something. Or someone.

Once again, Mr Crawling presses closer to you. Now, you’re able to feel the way his body trembles with fear, and you realize that he’s just as terrified as you are, though you can’t tell if that fear is for himself, for you, or for both of you at once. And it’s not like you can ask. Still, you open your eyes just long enough to look up at him, Mr Scarletella in your peripheral as you force a smile and touch the crown of Mr Crawling’s head, offering what little comfort you can. He still quivers, but seems to appreciate the gesture, though he doesn’t risk a happy chirp.

The danger passes as the man in scarlet disappears down the hallway, then turns the corner. You let out a silent sigh of relief and Mr Crawling relaxes after several moments of continued tension, finally going limp and releasing you from against the wall. He slumps onto his knees, which seems to be his most comfortable position, and he looks at you clearly through the darkness. In that moment, it feels like you’ve understood one another perfectly.

“Thank you,” you whisper sincerely, though you know he can’t really understand you.

You’re just hoping the gratitude comes across somehow, but at the risk that it won’t, you touch your chest over top of where your heart’s still beating like a drum, then touch his chest in the same place. It dawns on you that you don’t feel a heartbeat at all, and you almost pull your hand away. . . But something stops you. Something that says even if you’re right and he’s something less (or more) than human, —it doesn’t matter as much as the kindness he’s shown you. So your hand lingers until you softly pull away.

He grabs your cheeks again and holds them delicately.

#homicipher #mr crawling #homicipher x reader #homicipher chapter one #homicipher chapter 1 #mr crawling x reader #mr scarletella #mr hood #mr silver hair #mr silver-hair #mr gap #mr chopped head #homicipher game #mr crawling reader insert #homicipher reader insert #mr crawling homicpher #homicipher fanfic #homicipher fanfiction

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stareiiez · 6 days ago

Note

Main Mark + Mark variants dating a big titty goth gf female reader

I just think it's a funny trope

Golden retriever bf and black cat gf

hurray for finally answering inbox messages!! back to our scheduled entertainment of invincible goodness.

Mark Grayson

lets be honest, your dark look scared him away at first. the dark clothing, the outta the norm makeup. and over all style spooked him, that was until he saw your smile and you genuinely laugh for the first time; he was less intimidated. the man is peak physical strength, and then some, and yet he got shy because of your look. you're beautiful, none the less. he isn't one to oogle big or small breasts, but like any other man. he thinks he won because you've got a ample chest to lay on when he's tired. loves to watch the way you do your makeup, and the way it changes when you dress in more than one gothic subculture.

Sinister Mark

black cat x doberman with rabies. you two are a lethal combo that judges the public with too little shame. sinister LOVES a good rack, and he likes that he's taller than you so he can look down your shirt when you two stand to close to eachother. your outfits match, or coordinate with eachother. dark and ' edgy ' , over sized or tight fitting you both command the room's eyes on you. you both scare others away, his arm slung around your shoulders. possessive and authoritative.

Mohawk Mark

AGAIN, doberman x black cat. HE LOVES LOVES LOVES your boobs. fist pumps when he sees your bra isnt all that's got your chest perky and plump under your black shirt. mocks your ' scary ' attitude that others are off put for a black cat kinda girl. you try so hard to be nonchalant and cold, but he ruins it 90% of the time. he gets under your skin, and you end up smacking him on the head everytime. he finds your hair and style, wicked and crazy. it matches his spiky hair and wicked attitude, and he asks for you to do his 'guy' liner every now and then.

Retro/ Goggle-less Mark.

the way you don't match his energy is truly criminal. he's loud, all over and the place and energetic. you sit in one place, watching over the edge of your book; and he's on the floor whining for you to pay attention to him or else he'll kill something you love. the threats, the sadistic energy he brings to your relationship grows old quickly for you, but you know you shouldn't take it lightly when he has his off days. you're like a wet blanket to a overactive puppy that paws through its cage bars to reach you.

Shiesty Mark.

finds it hot asf. if you get him loyal, he will constantly have boners for you and only you. hard 24/7 with how suave and cool you are. he does only find it annoying you can match his attitude and go into a screaming cussing moment with him. also, your boobs will always be grabbed and squeezed; he wants you in low cut outfit so it's easy access for his hands to cop a feel of your double d's in his large hands. your dark lipstick marks are on his neck and cheeks are a trophy he wants to show off to everyone. even if it's his newest bitch, he goes for someone that looks like you or dresses like you. he's got an addiction to goth bitches, but the only ones he can find are the ones coming outta spencers and hot topic.

Omni-Mark

thinks its weird as fuck, but hey -- he keeps his mouth shut. he sees the way it makes you happy to look the way you look and to act the way you act. he might never understand it, but you love him and he has a fond attachment for you .

#skeleton's bones rattles #ch: invincible #fem reader #invincible x reader #mark grayson x reader #invincible #invincible variants x reader #mark grayson #mark grayson x you #mark grayson x y/n #invincible x you #invincible x y/n #sinister invincible x reader #mohawk mark grayson #omni mark #sheisty mark

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200markies · 6 months ago

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　　　　jeno ♡ is the type of boyfriend to ... ⁺

jeno soft hours & headcanons. all are fictional.

pairing: lee jeno x fem!reader

genre: romance, fluff

result from the poll i gave (it's now deleted haha sorry)

author's notes: i made a poll on my main blog like around 3 weeks ago (i deleted it bc im transforming my main blog into something) and i saw that you guys chose jeno over renjun for a boyfriend soft hours headcanon. and well lo and behold, i will bring it to you as requested! i know you guys definitely liked my chenle and jisung headcanons (let's face it, i literally still get bombarded with a bunch of notifs saying you guys r still reblogging and liking my posts AND I WON'T COMPLAIN!) sooo i'll continue this entire thing since this is now probably a 7dream series. i hope this filled up your delusions AND. i hope y'all like this as much as you guys liked my jisung and chenle headcanons :>>

p.s i hope this is an accurate depiction of how i think jeno would be as a boyfriend.........

i am always open 4 requests, and my ask inbox is open so go ahead and request or ask me anything ! i'm always happy to answer each and every message <3

jeno is the type of boyfriend to act all whiny and pouty when you don't give him full attention for at least a second. he wants you to give him attention without any breaks. the moment you let go of him or the moment he finds himself no longer in your arms when he wakes up, he'll start whining and pouting for you to come back.

"wait, let me get something─" as you were about to get up to get something from your cabinet, jeno cuts you off by whining and gripping you tightly to keep you from getting up. you turn around to him, his pout becoming visible already as a sign that he doesn't want to let go of your arms just yet. "but.. baby... can't you stay here first with me? am i not deserving of your attention?"

jeno is the type of boyfriend to follow you almost everywhere you go. not in like a stalking way though, but in a way where he truly wants to go with you on anything you plan to travel or drive to. whether it's a gala with your friends, or something personal yourself. he just doesn't want to be alone and wants to join you almost everytime.

"baby, i'll attend a birthday party on saturday with my friends." you say softly to jeno in front of you, writing down the event on your calendar. you could feel his little stare at you when you said that, with a little nod which you knew that it meant he'll ask you again if he could come. you sigh playfully, rolling your eyes at him as you knew that he'll ask you any minute. "you know the drill.... can i come?"

jeno is the type of boyfriend to sulk and playfully fight you when you say something that doesn't fit the conversation. if, for example, you don't answer his question, he'll immediately sulk and fight you as if he hates you, literally! but, you know all the time he's joking by how cute he is when he fights you. and, even if he fights you playfully a million times, he'll always accept your apologies.

"baby, do you like my suit?" jeno asks, coming out of the fitting room in a tailor shop to see if his suit looks good for his occasion tomorrow. you were still talking about your anniversary plans together, which immediately made jeno sulk as you ignored his question. "heeey, you ignored my question!" he starts whining, sulking while putting up a cute angry expression. he goes to you and smacks you playfully, fighting you just because you ignored his question. "i'm sorry─ i'm sorry!" you start apologising while jeno kept smacking you, still sulking. "you didn't answer my question! do you like my suit?" he asks again, in which you nodded and gave him a little kiss on the lips for him to stop.

jeno is the type of boyfriend to send you something before he goes to work. it's either he sends you an adorable selfie, or something sweet, or maybe some funny jokes to enlighten up your mood if you feel down. he tries his best to at least make you happy in the most minimal way possible─ and it works!

"good morning, baby! hope you slept well. gonna head to work nowww, see you later my love! i love you pretty girl :>" jeno sends the message to you, hoping that you can read it now that you're probably awake. you were on your bed, looking at the notification on your lockscreen. you type out a response, saying, "hi cutie ! i did sleep well, good morning <3 i'll see you later! ilym" and pressed send with a giggle.

©️ 200markies / jyanihaes, 2024

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currrentfixations · 1 month ago

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the cut that always bleeds 2 — park hu-min

pairing: park hu-min (baku) x gohyuntaksister!reader

genre: just fluff tbh, they deserved a happy ending.

word count: 2.1k words

note: friendship?? they love each other, your honour. also thank you so much for all the love on my first fic it means a lot 😭🫶, hope you guys enjoy this one as well!

part 1!

masterlist!

you were woken from your slumber by your phone buzzing next to you.

hyun-takie ⛹️‍♂️ flashing on your phone screen, before the screen went black again.

you had fallen asleep slumped against the door. your eyes swollen from crying, and your body stiff and sore from the rigid position it had been frozen in for the last couple hours. slowly getting up, you reached for your phone.

your head was throbbing, like someone had struck it with a hammer. tapping your phone, you checked the time. 11pm — you had been out for almost 2 hours. under the time, you noticed all notifications you had missed.

4 missed calls from hyun-takie ⛹️‍♂️ 1 voicemail from hyun-takie ⛹️‍♂️ 6 messages from hyun-takie ⛹️‍♂️ 2 messages from seo jun-tae 🙇‍♂️

nothing from hu-min. you never deleted his number. the last time you messaged him was the day of hyun-tak's accident, wondering if he'd seen or heard from hyun-tak. he never replied.

pushing the thoughts about hu-min aside, you opened up jun-tae's messages first.

seo jun-tae 🙇‍♂️ [9:42pm]: hey, it's jun-tae! seo jun-tae 🙇‍♂️ [9:43pm]: hyun-tak was worried bc you're not answering, call me or him when you get this 😊 delivered — read at 11:03pm

you loved jun-tae — he was a recent addition to your brothers friend group. he was absolutely adorable, and had won you over with his polite and respectful nature. tapping on his contact, you hit the call button. the phone rang 6 times before it went into voicemail.

with no response from jun-tae, you decided to check your brothers messages.

hyun-takie ⛹️‍♂️ [9:17pm]: hey idiot hyun-takie ⛹️‍♂️ [9:18pm]: sorry i haven't messaged or called, just got caught up with friends hyun-takie ⛹️‍♂️ [9:18pm]: call me when you get this hyun-takie ⛹️‍♂️ [9:36pm]: hey don't purposely ignore me hyun-takie ⛹️‍♂️ [9:36pm]: i know for a fact you're stuck to your phone 24/7 hyun-takie ⛹️‍♂️ [10:59pm]: ok did something happen, call me when you get this delivered — read at 11:06pm

wow only 6 messages, that was a new record for hyun-tak. better than the time he had messaged you a single word at a time causing your inbox to inflate with 248 messages. you clicked on his contact, checking what time you had missed his calls.

hyun-takie ⛹️‍♂️ — 2 missed calls at 9:20pm hyun-takie ⛹️‍♂️ — missed call at 9:38pm hyun-takie ⛹️‍♂️ — missed call at 11:00pm

you giggled, it was just like him to call you 2 minutes after messaging because you didn't immediately answer. tapping on the voicemail, you gave it a listen.

"hey baby sis, are you okay? i'm worried that little miss glued to her phone isn't answering. anyways whenever you get this, call me back. also don't be mad, i'm at the hospital."

were you really related? your brother was a dumbass. instead of assuming you were asleep, the first thing he thinks is that something is wrong.

wait. hospital. what?

you shot up, panic flooding in. running into your room, you grabbed a small bag, shoving your phone, wallet, keys and headphones inside.

running back out to the entrance, you forced shoes onto your feet. as soon as your shoes were on, you sprinted outside to grab a taxi. the drive to the hospital felt endless. you were beyond scared, imagining all different types of scenarios.

thanking the taxi driver, you rushed inside the hospital and upon entering you heard hyun-tak's voice.

"man, you crybaby. did you cry again?"

and hu-min's voice.

"i didn't."

"si-eun, don't worry he cries all the time." — "i didn't cry, jerk."

hyun-tak sounded completely fine. speeding up a little, you reached the group of boys. seeing hyun-tak with no injuries, you wrapped your hands around him, a sense of relief washing over you. he's okay — your brother was okay.

wait, you were supposed to be angry.

pulling out of his grip, you smacked hyun-tak on the shoulder. "owww, what the hell was that for?" he whined.

"what the hell was that for!?" you said, your eyes bulging. you smacked him again.

"you're an asshole, do you know how worried i was? why on earth would you end the voicemail with 'i'm in the hospital' when you're perfectly fine! you scared me!".

you wanted to smack him more but your body betrayed you, wrapping your arms around him once more.

"i'm sorryyyy —" hyun-tak said, smiling and gently patting your head. "the voicemail ended before i could say anything else. i was going to include that i was in the hospital to see si-eun".

"i'll deal with you at home." you huffed, pulling away from him. forcing a smile, you turned around.

"hi jun-tae, long time no see!" you said to the boy who stood to the right of you, giving him a side-hug.

"hi si-eun, i hope you're okay. nothing serious right?" you asked, giving him a polite wave. si-eun wasn't much of a hugger or talker, especially with those he didn't know well. but he knew he could trust you, you were like a mini hyun-tak.

"i'm okay, just a minor accident. only a few scratches here and there" si-eun replied, smiling softly.

"i'm glad" you responded, mirroring si-eun's smile.

"hey ___". you were surprised hu-min was talking to you, considering he hadn't acknowledged what you had said to him while he was leaving.

you almost didn't want to respond to him, but feeling the eyes of your brother and his friends on you, you settled for a simple 'hi'.

you stared at hu-min in silence, waiting for him to say something. but instead juntae cleared his throat, "i'm going to drop si-eun back to his room. let's go si-eun." — "i'm gonna go with them" hyun-tak added.

they hadn't left because they weren't uncomfortable. they'd left to make you feel comfortable, to give you the privacy you needed. hyun-tak had told them about your past with hu-min, how you had been harbouring feelings for each other, both afraid to do anything about said feelings. how his accident was the tipping point for you.

watching their silhouettes disappear, you felt a hand grab your wrist. you looked up at hu-min with a confusion expression that translated to 'what are you doing?'.

holding onto you, hu-min led you outside. the cold wind hitting your face as you exited the hospital. "what do you think you're doing?" you asked him. "i need to talk to you. sit." you slowly lowered yourself onto the wooden bench.

the frosty air settled on your skin making you realise that you'd forgotten a jacket. out of the corner of your eye, you saw hu-min removing his hoodie and before you could refuse, it is in front of your face.

"i'm fine, it's fine."

"just take it, you're shivering like crazy" he exhaled, placing the zip-up over your shoulders. you, unconsciously, pulled his hoodie closer to you, feeling his lingering warmth in the fabric.

"what did you wanna talk about hu-min?" the cold weather was making you impatient causing the words coming out sharper than intended.

taking a deep breath, hu-min gathered his courage. fighting with other boys, easy. talking to the girl he likes, no thanks. he'd rather fight a 100 boys than feel the emotions he was feeling right now, ever again.

"your brother forgave me, why can't you?" he whispered. he was right. hyun-tak had forgiven hu-min — technically he had never blamed hu-min to begin with. so what about you, what was holding you back for forgiving him?

a heavy silence settled between you. "nevermind... forget i said anything, i'm sorry". hu-min was getting restless, shifting his weight from foot to foot, wondering if he'd said the wrong thing.

"no... you're right, i'm sorry hu-min." you've gotten this far, now it was time to just rip the bandaid off.

tapping the space next to you, you silently invited hu-min to come sit down. he had been standing the entire time, worried that being too close would make you uncomfortable.

"i'm not angry at you —" you spoke slowly, trying to keep your voice steady. "i mean i was angry, initially i did blame you for what happened to hyun-tak. all i could think was, had he not been friends with you, he won't have gone through what he did".

taking a deep breath, you continued explaining how during the first two months of hyun-tak's recovery you were so so angry at him and how by month four, it had become tiring.

not only did you not want to hate the boy you love, you'd realised you were incapable of it.

"soon after, hyun-tak had picked up on the fact that i wasn't speaking to you. and you know what he said to me?" you let out a quiet laugh. "don't hate hu-min too much, the guy is a bit of a dummy. just go talk to him". what you had tried so hard to hide, your brother had picked up on in seconds.

after hearing those words from your brother, you realised that the anger and resentment you had held towards hu-min for being the "cause" of hyun-tak's accident had dissipated. and the real cause was something else altogether.

"the reason i've been upset with you is something else. did you think i was angry because of what happened all this time?"

"yeah..." — "well do you get why i was actually upset?" hu-min shook his head 'no'. you were starting to believe that he did, in fact, have a 99iq.

"hu-min!" you slightly raised your voice, slapping his shoulder. "can you please explain to me why you were actually upset with me?" he asked, with the most innocent look on his face. "are you serious?" was he trying to tease you?

"i was upset because you didn't reach out to me. after i walked past you in the hospital you didn't try to contact me. not once." you sighed, taking a breath to prevent tears from welling up in your eyes.

"i felt abandoned. i thought i meant more-" hu-min pulled you into a hug before you could finish. 'i'm sorry' he repeatedly whispered, like a mantra, his voice full of regret. you pressed your lips together, trying your best to not cry, but it was too late. tears had began to slide down your face, dampening hu-min's shoulder.

"hey, you're making me look bad, why are you apologising? i'm the one who is sorry hu-min, it was wrong of me." you spoke, your voice muffled.

"ialsomayhavebeenupsetbecauseyoudidn'tfeelthesamewayaboutme" you quickly murmured under your breath, praying he hadn't caught onto what you said.

but he had. hu-min pulled back just enough so he could see you, his eyes softening at the sight of your slightly puffy eyes. "oh dear, my poor baby —" he said in a teasing tone, wiping the remnants of your tears. " ___, do you have 99iq or do i? i think we both do."

"i like you".

"i like you so much. my every waking thought is about you. hell, even my dreams are about you." you were speechless, your brain was short-circuiting. "i was worried that baek-jin would go after you so i thought the easiest and safest thing to do was to stay away. i'm sorry i should've told you."

"please say something."

without a second thought, you wrapped your arms around hu-min.

"i like you too, god we're both idiots." you laughed, with a final few tears making their appearance. hu-min hugged you tighter — "guess we are" he mumbled, laughing softly.

"c'mon lets go inside". standing up, you laced your fingers through his. "give me a minute, you head in first" he replied.

you nodded and made your way towards the hospital entrance. realising there was one important thing you forgot to tell him, you turned back around.

"hey baku" you yelled with a grin on your face, "you know you're not alone right, you have me, hyun-tak, jun-tae, and si-eun. try not to hold the burden all on your own, i don't want my future boyfriend to get squashed. now hurry up and come inside".

hu-min hadn't realised how much he yearned to hear that nickname from you. and for the first time in a while, hu-min smiled. not a polite one to show everyone he was okay when he wasn't, but a genuine one.

turning back around, you headed inside. you felt happy, happier than you have been in the past year. even though there was still the whole union mess to clean up and even though you technically weren't dating yet, you were happy. you didn't mind waiting for hu-min for a little while, not when he had waited for you.

for @bloodysxxl who wanted a second part 🫶

and as always lmk your thoughts!! :)

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in-another-april · 1 year ago

Note

i had this idea that seems right up your alley-

i think spencer would love subtly showing his partner off, he'd wear a locket with their picture or a necklace with their initial,, so they're always with him yk :3

you hear that? that’s my heart monitor flatlining. this KILLED ME, thanks.

Spencer absolutely adores having a part of you with him wherever he goes! He loves the reminder of you (not that he really needs reminding, but shh) and the comforting feeling of you being there with him, even when you’re apart.

He so would wear/carry your initial somewhere on his person, I’m thinking a charm attached to a bracelet or his watch band. OR, instead of the initial: something related to an inside joke you have. There’s something so intimate about having something only the two of you would get.

He’s always fiddling with it (as he’s thinking of you!) Even just seeing it on his wrist is enough to cheer him up. And know that he is never!! taking that thing off, it’s a part of him now. Just like you are :(

Spencer loses it if you get one with his initial, he is so flustered and happy. He can’t take his eyes off of it for the next 3-5 business days, you’ve got him so smitten. (And smug, smirking to himself whenever someone asks and you answer that it’s for your boyfriend)

He alwayss keeps pictures of you with him, and he pulls them out to look at when he gets stressed or misses you. I think he’d keep a little one of the both of you on his desk, too.

Occasionally, some new agent or visitor will see it and be like “Hey, who’s that?” and the rest of the team just has to teasingly go “DON’T EVEN get him started,” because he can (and will!) talk about you for hours if given the opprotunity.

masterlist | inbox ♡

taglist - @lover-of-books-and-tea @maskysluvr @aurorsworld @wisteriaspencer @radioactiveinvisible @mandarinmoons @spencereidapologist @lyd14k4y @luvkatryna (send an ask or message to be added/removed!)

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #spencer x reader #spencer reid fluff #x reader #reid x reader

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mrs-delaney · 2 months ago

Text

Behind The Lens | Part Two

Reader Request: Reader has been working for the bengals since Joe got drafted. She can be a social media admin, public relations liaison or even a physical therapist. She’s been in love with him but it is unrequited while he was with Olivia and when they break up she thought that she had a chance but he starts seeing the influencer but please make it a happy ending. Angst as fuck but happy ending. I want to see this girl yearning for fucking years before she gets him and I want him to realize that she is the love of his life.

Pairing: Joe Burrow x Reader

Word Count: 15.2k

Requested: No | Yes

Warnings: Professional boundaries being strengthened and tested, Mediterranean escapes, new haircuts that say more than words, painfully nice girlfriends, awkward charity galas, confrontations on terraces, dating apps that go nowhere because they're not him, coworkers who see too much, the specific ache of working with someone you're trying to get over, honest conversations that arrive too late, and the realization that creating distance doesn't always create freedom.

Part One

Author's Note: Part Two explores what happens when someone decides to build boundaries after years without them. It's about the struggle to reclaim your identity when you've defined yourself through someone else's orbit for so long.

I wanted to capture the delicate balance between protecting your heart and doing your job, especially when those two needs are constantly at odds. It's about the quiet courage of choosing yourself, even when it feels like loss.

After writing the slow-burn and unrequited feelings of Part One, this section is about the messy reality of what comes next - the aftershocks of realizations, the awkward attempts at distance, and the complicated emotions that remain despite our best efforts to suppress them.

Thank you for following Y/N's journey as she navigates these uncharted waters, trying to find solid ground while the tide keeps shifting beneath her feet.

There is immediately a Part 3 coming! All of this was too long for just one post. What started as what I thought was going to be a one shot is going to have at least one more part.

A Few Quick Notes:

📌 This story is ONLY posted on Wattpad and Tumblr under miss_delaney. If you see it anywhere else, it’s been stolen. Do NOT copy, repost, translate, or distribute my work on any other platform. Please respect my writing.

📌 Want to be added to the taglist? Drop a comment or message me!

📌 Requests: Open for now, but it may take a minute to get to them, I’ve got several in the inbox.

Author's Note: So here’s Part One. I’m hoping this will be a two-parter, but let’s be real, I’m long-winded so we’ll see. My goal with this section was to really sit in the unrequited part. The slow burn. The quiet ache. The years of showing up, holding back, staying professional, and still falling deeper anyway. The almosts. The not-quites. The timing that never seemed to line up.

Taglist: @honeydippedfiction

* * *

Louisville Retreat

Y/N stood on her oldest brother Matt's back deck, coffee warming her hands against the December chill. The Louisville skyline stretched before her, familiar yet distant after years in Cincinnati. Behind her, the sounds of her brothers making breakfast floated through the open kitchen window.

This impromptu trip home had been exactly what she needed – an escape from the suffocating reality of Joe's relationship with Ellie, from the professional smile she'd maintained while documenting it all.

"Coffee refill?" Aaron appeared beside her with the pot, studying her face. "You've been staring at nothing for ten minutes."

Y/N extended her mug. "Just thinking."

"About Burrow?" The directness in Aaron's voice made her tense.

"About work," she corrected automatically.

Aaron leaned against the railing, unconvinced. "Same thing for you, isn't it?"

The question hung in the air, too perceptive to brush off. Y/N had never explicitly confirmed her feelings for Joe to her brothers, maintaining the same professional boundaries in her personal life that she did at work. But four years of carefully worded stories of changing the subject when Joe's relationships came up, had apparently been transparent enough.

"Not anymore," she finally answered, meeting her brother's eyes. "I'm creating some distance."

Aaron nodded slowly. "Because of the model?"

"Because it's time," Y/N replied. "Four years is long enough to... to feel something that isn't going anywhere."

The back door opened as Lucas and Matt joined them, plates of eggs and toast in hand. "Family meeting on the deck?" Lucas asked, setting the food down on the patio table.

"Y/N's creating professional boundaries with Burrow," Aaron explained, earning a sharp look from his sister.

"About time," Matt said, handing her a plate. "You've been his shadow for four years."

"I've been doing my job," Y/N corrected, but the defensiveness in her voice betrayed her.

"Your job was to document the quarterback," Lucas pointed out gently. "Not fall in love with him."

Y/N stared at her plate, the directness catching her off guard. They'd never been this explicit about it before, always dancing around the subject with teasing questions about Joe rather than her feelings for him.

"We've watched you for four years," Matt continued, his usual brashness softened. "Every time you'd visit, every video call. The way you'd light up talking about work, but your voice would change when you mentioned him specifically."

"It wasn't exactly subtle, sis," Aaron added. "We just figured you'd handle it in your own time."

Y/N felt exposed, years of careful compartmentalization crumbling under her brothers' matter-of-fact assessment. "I did handle it. I kept things professional."

"At what cost?" Lucas asked. "Every time his relationships hit the news; you'd go radio silent for days."

Y/N looked out at the Louisville skyline, her hometown horizon a stark contrast to the Cincinnati view that had become so familiar. "I'm handling it now," she said finally. "When I go back, things will be different."

"Different how?" Matt asked.

"Professional distance. No more lunches, no more texting, no more..." she paused, searching for the words, "no more pretending we're friends when we're just colleagues who got too close."

Her brothers exchanged glances, a silent conversation passing between them.

"What?" Y/N demanded.

"Nothing," Lucas said. "Just... make sure you're creating boundaries for the right reasons. Not just running away."

"I'm not running," Y/N insisted. "I'm protecting myself. Finally."

The conversation shifted to lighter topics – Matt's kids, Aaron's promotion, Lucas's new house – but Y/N's mind kept returning to the decision she'd made. Professional distance. Clear boundaries. It was long overdue.

By Sunday evening, as she packed for her return to Cincinnati, Y/N had formulated a clear plan. No more direct oversight of Joe's media. No more private lunches. No more letting herself hope for something that was never going to happen.

It was time to see Joe Burrow as just another player on the team she covered. Nothing more, nothing less.

* * *

The Buffer System

"You want to delegate quarterback media coverage?" Kayla's eyebrows rose as she reviewed Y/N's proposal in her office Monday morning. "That's... unexpected. You've personally handled Joe's content since his rookie year."

"Exactly," Y/N replied, keeping her voice professionally neutral. "It's created an imbalance in our coverage workflow. We have three junior staff members who need experience with higher-profile players. This redistribution makes more sense organizationally."

Kayla studied her for a moment. "This wouldn't have anything to do with what happened before your sudden trip to Louisville. The Ellie James situation?"

"Of course not," Y/N said smoothly. "That's Joe's personal business. This is about team workflow efficiency."

After a moment's consideration, Kayla nodded. "If you think this is best from a content perspective, I trust your judgment. But Joe might have questions. He's used to working directly with you."

"I'm still overseeing all content," Y/N clarified. "Just not handling the day-to-day personally. I've prepared a transition document for the team, and I'll explain the changes to Joe myself."

Y/N had planned for every professional objection, mapped out every logistical detail. What she hadn’t accounted for was how hard it would be to actually put her buffer system into action. The first real test came that afternoon, when she spotted Joe walking toward her in the hallway, his eyes lighting up the moment he saw her.

"Y/N!" he called, quickening his pace slightly. "You're back. How was Louisville?"

"Good, thanks," she replied, keeping her tone pleasant but not warm, her pace steady. "Family time was exactly what I needed."

Joe fell into step beside her. "I tried texting you a couple times. Wasn't sure if you got the messages."

Sorry,” she said, not breaking her stride. “I was trying to stay present with family.

They reached the media suite, and Y/N paused by the door, creating a natural endpoint to their conversation. "I actually need to catch up with my team. We're implementing some workflow changes this week."

"Oh," Joe said, disappointment flickering across his features before his expression shifted to something more calculating. "Coffee later, then? We should talk about the charity event coming up."

Y/N maintained her professional smile. "I'm swamped today, but Tyler's going to be handling your media appearances going forward. He'll reach out to discuss the charity event."

Joe's eyes narrowed slightly; the shift so subtle anyone who hadn't spent four years documenting his expressions might have missed it. "Tyler? That's... interesting. Any particular reason for the change?"

"We're redistributing workload across the team," Y/N explained, the practiced words coming easily. "Tyler's very capable. You'll be in good hands."

“Right,” Joe said, after a pause that felt longer than it was. “Professional development. If you say so.”

“I do say so,” Y/N replied evenly. “Now, I’ve got a meeting starting. Tyler will be in touch about the charity event.”

She stepped into the media suite before Joe could press further, closing the door behind her and leaning against it momentarily, eyes closed. The look he'd given her – not confusion but something closer to assessment – lingered in her mind. He had for sure seen through her professional excuse. She pushed the thought aside. This was necessary. Better for everyone.

Within days, Y/N had her buffer system fully in place. Team meetings replaced one-on-ones whenever Joe was involved. She sat at the opposite end of conference tables and only spoke to him when others were present, keeping every conversation focused on media plans and strategy.

In edit sessions, she focused on technical aspects rather than making the personal suggestions that had once been their norm. "We should use more of the tunnel walk footage" replaced "That shot really captures your focus before the game."

The system worked, technically. But it didn't stop her from noticing Joe's increasingly confused glances, the way his eyes followed her across rooms, the aborted attempts to catch her alone that she carefully, systematically avoided.

* * *

Joe Tries to Reconnect

Three weeks into Y/N's new approach, Joe caught her outside the edit room as she was reviewing footage.

"Coffee this week?" he asked, the casual question belied by the intensity in his eyes. "We haven't really caught up since you got back from Louisville."

Y/N didn't make eye contact, focusing instead on the tablet in her hands. "Crazy schedule right now. Maybe next time."

"That's what you said last week," Joe pointed out, a hint of frustration breaking through his usually controlled tone. "And the week before."

"End of season push," Y/N replied with practiced ease. "You know how it is."

"Y/N," Joe's voice dropped, taking on an unfamiliar edge. "I know something's going on. This isn't just about workload."

For a brief moment, Y/N's resolve wavered. The directness in his eyes suggested he understood more than he was letting on, that his confusion in previous interactions had been at least partly performative.

"Nothing's going on," she said instead, finally looking up with a perfectly professional smile. "Just managing workflow. Speaking of which, I need to get these edits to the team."

"You've been avoiding me since Louisville," he pressed, not letting her escape so easily. "Since the Ellie thing hit the news."

Y/N froze, her heart racing. He'd connected those dots more directly than she'd realized.

"I'm not avoiding anyone," she replied, voice carefully modulated. "I'm re-prioritizing assignments based on team needs."

Joe’s eyes narrowed slightly, less confused now than resolved. “If you say so.” He gave her space, but his voice followed her. “We’ll talk again soon.”

She walked away, jaw tight with the effort of maintaining composure, feeling his eyes on her back. Four years of documenting Joe Burrow had taught her exactly what his expressions meant. The one he wore now – not confusion but determined patience – was new territory.

"Everything okay?" Sam asked as Y/N entered the media suite, her friend's perceptive gaze taking in her rigid posture.

"Fine," Y/N replied, setting down her tablet with more force than necessary. "Just work."

Sam glanced through the glass toward where Joe still stood in the hallway, watching the media suite door with an unreadable expression before finally turning away.

"Doesn't look like 'just work' to me," Sam observed quietly.

Y/N didn't answer, focusing intently on her screen. This was going to be harder than she'd anticipated.

* * *

The Professional Mask

By the time the playoffs arrived, Y/N had perfected her professional mask. She'd created a persona specifically for interactions with Joe, polite, efficient, impersonal. The same tone she used with sponsors and press. No warmth, no inside jokes, no personal questions.

In production meetings, she addressed him as she would any player, not with the easy familiarity they'd developed over four years. "We'll need you for the promotional shoot Thursday, Joe" instead of "Thursday work for you, Joe?" The subtle shift was noticeable to anyone who'd observed their previous dynamic.

Joe had stopped trying to corner her for coffee or private conversations, but she caught him watching her during team gatherings, his eyes tracking her movements with a puzzled intensity that made maintaining her distance even more difficult.

During a staff meeting, Y/N outlined the playoff media strategy, deliberately focusing on other players and assigning Tyler to continue handling Joe's coverage.

"I'd prefer Y/N for the post-game segment," Joe interjected, the first time he'd directly challenged the new arrangement. "We have a workflow that works."

Y/N kept her expression neutral. "Tyler's been handling your segments for weeks now. Consistency is important during playoffs."

"Y/N knows my cues better," Joe persisted, eyes fixed on her. "It makes more sense."

"Tyler's done an excellent job," Y/N countered smoothly. "And I'll be overseeing all content production. The current assignments stand."

The room went quiet, the unusual tension between quarterback and media coordinator palpable. Kayla cleared her throat, quickly moving to the next agenda item, but the moment lingered.

After the meeting, Y/N escaped to her office, closing the door before allowing her professional mask to slip momentarily. Four years of working closely with Joe had created habits that were hard to break, the instinct to catch his eye during meetings, to anticipate his questions, to fall into the easy rhythm they'd established.

A knock interrupted her thoughts. Sam entered without waiting for a response, closing the door behind her.

"Okay, what exactly was that?" she demanded. "The entire room felt the ice age between you two."

"Just maintaining professional boundaries," Y/N replied, straightening papers on her desk.

"That wasn't professional boundaries," Sam countered. "That was Arctic permafrost. Even Kayla noticed."

Y/N exhaled, her voice quieter now. “It’s just… less complicated this way.”

“For who?” Sam pressed. “Because Joe’s not confused anymore. And you’re not exactly thriving.”

Y/N hesitated, then shook her head. “It’s not forever. He’ll get used to working with Tyler. And I’ll… adjust. This is what I should’ve done a long time ago.”

Sam leaned against the desk; arms crossed. "Has he tried to talk to you about it?"

“He made a few attempts. I kept it professional, and that was that.”

"And you think that's a good thing?"

Y/N didn't answer immediately, the weight of the past few weeks settling heavily on her shoulders. "It has to be. This is the only way I can do my job without..." she trailed off.

"Without your heart breaking every time, you look at him?" Sam finished gently.

"Something like that," Y/N conceded.

Later that afternoon, Y/N overheard Joe's voice in the hallway outside the media suite. Instinctively, she took a different route to avoid an encounter, only to hear him ask Sam what was going on.

"Y/N's been different since she got back from Louisville," Joe said, no confusion in his voice now, just certainty and frustration. "Right after the Ellie news broke."

"Ask her," Sam replied simply, though Y/N knew her friend would never betray her confidence.

"I have," Joe's frustration was audible even from a distance. "She gives me the professional development line every time. We both know that's not it."

"Then maybe that's your answer," Sam suggested, her tone careful. "Maybe she doesn't want to talk about it."

Joe didn’t answer right away. “Maybe,” he said finally. “But I’m not done.”

Y/N slipped away before they could see her, but not before she heard him. The knot in her chest tightened. This was necessary, she told herself. The only way to protect her heart and keep her career intact.

Joe Burrow had never been hers to lose. But somehow, creating this distance hurt almost as much as watching him with someone else had.

She just needed to hold firm. Wait for the feelings to fade. Wait for the day Joe Burrow became just another player on the team she covered.

She just wasn't sure when, or if, that would ever happen.

* * *

January 2025 - Bengals Facility

The playoffs brought a different energy to the facility. Despite Y/N's carefully constructed buffer system, the intensity of postseason preparation made complete avoidance impossible. Every player was needed for content, every staff member working extended hours, every corner of the building humming with focused activity.

Y/N stood in the main corridor, clipboard in hand, directing her team as they prepared for the wildcard weekend shoot. "Marcus, I need you on locker room B-roll. Jess, player arrivals at the south entrance. Tyler—"

"Quarterback interview, conference room three," Tyler finished with a knowing nod. "Already set up."

Y/N gave him an appreciative smile. After a month of handling Joe's media, Tyler had developed a solid workflow, though she occasionally still caught hints of confusion from both of them about the abrupt change.

"Social media call time?" she asked, keeping her tone brisk.

"Thirty minutes. Burrow's already in the building though."

Y/N nodded, glancing at her watch. "Perfect. I'll be in the edit bay if you need anything. We need that hype reel finalized by three."

As the team dispersed, Y/N headed toward the edit room, mentally reviewing the shot list for their playoff content. The Bengals' late-season surge had secured a wildcard spot, turning what many had written off as a disappointing season into a potential redemption story. It made for compelling content, even as it extended the time, she'd need to maintain her careful distance.

"Y/N."

She froze at the sound of his voice, too distinctive to pretend she hadn't heard. Taking a steadying breath, she turned to find Joe standing in the doorway of the weight room, practice gear already on, tablet in hand.

"Joe," she replied, her tone pleasant but neutral. "Something you need?"

He stepped into the hallway, closing the distance between them with a few casual strides. He looked good—focused, playoff-ready, the intensity in his eyes that always emerged this time of year.

"Just wanted to confirm the gameday shoot schedule. Tyler sent it over, but there's a conflict with the offensive meeting."

"I can have him adjust it," Y/N replied, already reaching for her phone. "We're flexible."

Joe studied her face, something calculating in his expression. "You could adjust it. You've been handling the playoff schedule for four seasons."

Y/N kept her expression calm. "Tyler's got it covered."

He gave a small nod, his voice low. “Sure. If that’s the approach.”

They stood in awkward silence for a moment, the easy rapport that had once defined their interactions now replaced by this stilted exchange. Y/N noticed him glance at her clipboard, then back to her face.

"How was Louisville?" he asked suddenly, the personal question catching her off guard.

"Good," she answered, then added almost reflexively, "Nice to be home for the holidays."

Joe nodded, eyes searching her face for something. "Your brothers seemed happy to have you back. Saw Matt's post."

The casual mention of her oldest brother's Instagram post threw her. She hadn't realized Joe still followed her family on social media.

"Family time is always good," she said simply, glancing at her watch. "I should get to the edit bay."

Joe didn't move immediately, his tall frame still partially blocking her path. "You know," he said, voice dropping slightly, "this whole distance thing doesn't actually work if everyone notices it."

Y/N kept her expression neutral despite the small spike of alarm. "I'm not sure what you mean."

"Chase asked me yesterday what happened between us," Joe continued, his eyes never leaving hers. "Says the whole offense has noticed you don't work with me directly anymore."

"I work with the entire team," Y/N countered smoothly. "Staff adjustments happen all the time."

"Not like this," Joe said quietly. "Not after four years."

Y/N felt her mask start to slip under his direct gaze. "Is there a point to this conversation, Joe? Because I really do have a deadline."

Something shifted in his expression, frustration, perhaps, or resolve. "The point is, whatever's going on with you, people are noticing. And they're asking me about it, as if I have answers." He paused. "Which I don't, because someone won't actually talk to me."

The accusation hung in the air between them. Y/N squared her shoulders slightly, reclaiming her composure.

"There's nothing to talk about," she insisted. "And frankly, if players are gossiping instead of focusing on playoff prep, that's concerning."

Joe almost smiled, though there was no humor in it. "Always deflecting." He stepped aside finally, giving her space to pass. "Good luck with the edit, Y/N."

She nodded crisply and walked past him, refusing to acknowledge the way her heart hammered in her chest or how desperately she wanted to turn back. She had nearly reached the edit bay when his voice caught her once more.

"For what it's worth," he called after her, "I miss working with you."

Y/N didn't turn around, couldn't risk him seeing whatever might show on her face. Instead, she kept walking, shoulders straight, steps steady, the shield she'd built firmly in place against feelings she couldn't afford to have.

Inside the edit bay, she closed the door and leaned against it, eyes closed, allowing herself just five seconds of weakness before straightening up and getting to work. Playoff content wouldn't create itself, and she had a job to do.

A job that had once brought her closer to Joe Burrow than almost anyone else in the organization and now served as the very structure that kept them apart.

* * *

Late January 2025 - Playoff Elimination Weekend

The season ended not with a dramatic Super Bowl run but with a tough divisional round loss that left the facility somber and subdued. Y/N moved through the locker room with her camera, capturing the quiet moments of players packing up, exchanging contact information, making offseason plans. End-of-season content was always bittersweet, but this year carried an additional weight for her, the knowledge that she'd successfully maintained her distance from Joe throughout the playoff run, and now the offseason would make that distance physical as well as emotional.

"That's a wrap for player interviews," Sam said, joining her as they finished the final exit day shoot. "Coaches tomorrow, then season retrospective editing for the next two weeks."

Y/N nodded, reviewing the footage on her camera's display screen. "Got some good reflection pieces. Uno gave us gold for the season highlight reel."

"And Burrow?"

Y/N kept her expression neutral at Sam's casual mention. "Tyler handled his exit interview. Said it went well, plenty of usable content."

Sam studied her friend's face. "You know, you've managed to go nearly two months without directly interviewing the starting quarterback. That might be some kind of record."

"Just creating opportunities for the team," Y/N replied with practiced ease.

"Uh-huh," Sam said skeptically. "And it has nothing to do with the fact that he'll be gone for months now, so your buffer system won't be necessary."

Y/N lowered the camera, meeting her friend's knowing gaze. "Does it matter? It's working. The content's solid. The workflow's efficient."

"And you're miserable," Sam pointed out quietly.

"I'm fine," Y/N corrected. "There's a difference."

Before Sam could press further, they were interrupted by the appearance of Joe himself, dressed in street clothes, a duffle bag slung over his shoulder. He nodded to them both, though his eyes lingered on Y/N.

"Exit interviews done?" he asked.

"Just wrapping up," Sam replied when it became clear Y/N wasn't going to. "Tyler said yours went well."

"Tyler's good," Joe acknowledged, then added with deliberate emphasis, "Different perspective."

Y/N finally met his gaze, her composure firmly in place. "Heading out already?"

"Flight to California tonight," he confirmed. "Offseason training starts next week."

California. Where Ellie frequently worked. The unspoken reality hung in the air between them.

"Have a good offseason," Y/N said, the bland pleasantry feeling woefully inadequate after four years of more personal end-of-season conversations.

Joe studied her face for a long moment, something like resignation settling in his expression. "You too, Y/N." He glanced at Sam, adding, "Both of you."

After he walked away, Sam let out a low whistle. “Well, that wasn’t awkward at all.”

Y/N turned her attention back to her camera, refusing to watch Joe's departing figure. "It's fine."

"It's sad is what it is," Sam countered gently. "Four years of working together, and that's how you leave things?"

"It's better this way," Y/N insisted, though the words felt hollow even to her own ears. "Clean break for the offseason."

As players continued filing out, Y/N focused on her work, deliberately pushing away the realization that for the first time in four years, she hadn't been the one to document Joe Burrow's final day of the season. Hadn't captured his reflections, his plans, his quiet determination that always emerged after a playoff loss.

That evening, as she packed up her equipment for the day, Y/N found herself alone in the media suite, most staff having already headed home. The facility had that peculiar emptiness that always followed elimination—the sudden absence of purpose after months of intensity.

Her phone buzzed with a text. She expected Sam or one of her brothers but instead found a message from Joe.

Joe: Wish you'd done my exit interview. Tyler didn't ask the right questions.

Y/N stared at the text, her carefully constructed walls wavering. After a moment's hesitation, she replied.

Y/N: Safe travels. Good luck with offseason training.

The response came quickly.

Joe: Still shutting me out. At least you're consistent.

She could almost hear the edge in his voice, could picture his expression as he typed it.

Y/N: Not shutting you out. Just refocusing priorities.

The response was immediate.

Joe: Whatever you need to tell yourself.

Y/N stared at the text, the finality of it hitting harder than she expected. Maybe this was better - a clean break rather than lingering in uncomfortable limbo.

Y/N: Have a good offseason, Joe.

She tucked her phone away without waiting for his response, focusing instead on gathering her things. By the time OTAs rolled around, perhaps she'd have fully moved on. Perhaps these feelings would have faded enough that she could resume a normal working relationship with the quarterback.

Or perhaps, a quiet voice whispered in the back of her mind, by then she'd have found the courage to explore opportunities elsewhere, where she wouldn't have to see Joe Burrow every day and pretend, she felt nothing beyond respect.

As she walked through the empty facility toward the parking lot, Y/N allowed herself one moment of weakness—a glance back at the vacant quarterback's locker, now cleared of its contents for the offseason.

Four years she'd documented that space, the man who occupied it, the journey they'd both been on since his rookie season. Now, she was learning to document the Bengals without focusing quite so much on Joe Burrow.

She just wished it didn't feel so much like losing a part of herself in the process.

* * *

February 2025 - Bengals Facility

The offseason transformed the facility almost overnight. Where January had hummed with playoff intensity, February brought a different kind of quiet, coaches reviewing season footage, front office staff preparing for the draft, media team developing offseason content schedules. Most importantly for Y/N, it meant the absence of players, particularly one quarterback whose presence had complicated her professional life for months.

"Offseason content calendar," Y/N said, sliding a folder across the conference table to Kayla. "Draft prep, combine coverage, free agency tracking, and player highlight retrospectives."

Kayla flipped through the detailed plans, nodding appreciatively. "This is comprehensive. You've got Jess heading to Indianapolis for the combine?"

"With Marcus," Y/N confirmed. "They'll handle prospect interviews and testing coverage."

"And you?" Kayla asked, studying Y/N over the top of the folder.

"I'll coordinate from here, focus on draft strategy content, and finalize the season documentary."

Kayla set the folder down, her expression turning more contemplative. "You know, you usually request the combine assignment. Three years running."

Y/N kept her expression neutral. “Jess and Marcus deserve the opportunity.”

Kayla gave her a look. “You’ve been saying that a lot lately.”

Y/N shrugged. “It’s true.”

Kayla leaned back in her chair, regarding Y/N thoughtfully. "The buffer system with Joe was one thing. I understood that, even if you wouldn't admit the real reason. But now you're delegating prime assignments that you've always handled personally."

Y/N maintained her professional composure despite the direct challenge. "Is there a problem with my management approach?"

"Not from a results perspective," Kayla said carefully. "The content's excellent, the team's functioning well. I'm more concerned about you."

"I'm fine," Y/N insisted, perhaps too quickly.

"Are you?" Kayla pressed gently. "Because from where I'm sitting, it looks like you're systematically removing yourself from the parts of this job you used to love most."

The observation hit closer to home than Y/N cared to admit. She had been pulling back, not just from Joe but from aspects of her role that might eventually include him, like the combine, where she would traditionally interview prospects about potentially playing with the Bengals' star quarterback.

"I'm creating a sustainable workflow," Y/N said after a moment. "One that doesn't depend too heavily on any single person."

Kayla studied her for a long beat. "Including yourself?"

Y/N didn't immediately respond, the question hanging between them. Finally, she gathered her notes, standing to signal the end of the meeting.

"The calendar has everything you need. Let me know if there are any adjustments."

As she walked back to her office, Y/N knew Kayla wasn't wrong. She was pulling back, creating space not just from Joe but from the interconnected web of responsibilities that had defined her role for years. It wasn't conscious self-sabotage, but rather self-preservation, a gradual disentanglement from the professional identity that had become so intrinsically linked to Joe Burrow.

In her office, Y/N found Sam waiting, feet propped on the edge of her desk, scrolling through her phone.

"Don't you have work to do?" Y/N asked, though there was no real annoyance in her tone.

"Probably," Sam replied, not looking up. "But this is more interesting."

She turned her phone screen toward Y/N, revealing an Instagram post. Ellie James at some luxury California workout studio, a carefully staged post-training photo with expensive equipment in the background. Joe wasn't in the image, but the location tag matched where he'd mentioned training.

Y/N gave what she hoped was a disinterested glance. "Social media stalking isn't in your job description."

"Research," Sam corrected, taking her phone back. "And don't pretend you haven't looked."

"I haven't," Y/N said truthfully. She'd deliberately avoided Joe's social media accounts since implementing her buffer system, going so far as to mute notifications and unfollow certain mutual connections.

Sam studied her friend's face. "Really? Not even once?"

"Not even once," Y/N confirmed, sitting down at her desk. "What's the point?"

"The point is staying informed," Sam said, swinging her legs down. "The gossip sites are having a field day because he's barely in any of her posts, and when he does show up, he looks completely uncomfortable. There's one from some restaurant opening where he might as well be at a funeral."

Y/N kept her expression neutral even as something fluttered unexpectedly in her chest. "And this matters to me because...?"

"It doesn't," Sam conceded. "But it's interesting that Mr. Privacy is being dragged into the influencer spotlight and clearly hating every minute of it."

Sam rolled her eyes. "It doesn't. But it might matter to you personally, as someone who spent four years working closely with Joe before suddenly implementing an Arctic buffer zone the minute his girlfriend appeared."

"I'm not having this conversation again," Y/N said, turning to her computer. "Joe's personal life is his business. My professional boundaries are mine."

"Fine," Sam relented, standing to leave. "But just so you know, he asked about you."

Y/N's fingers paused over her keyboard. "What?"

"In his latest post-workout interview," Sam explained. "Reporter asked about offseason content plans, and he specifically mentioned hoping you'd be handling the quarterback feature series again when he gets back."

Y/N absorbed this information without visibly reacting. "Tyler's handling quarterback features now."

"Yeah, I don't think Joe got that memo," Sam replied, heading for the door. "Or he's ignoring it."

After Sam left, Y/N sat motionless for several minutes, staring at her screen without really seeing it. Despite her buffer system, despite the professional distance, despite literally being on opposite coasts, Joe was still finding ways to reach across the carefully constructed boundaries she'd established.

She opened her desk drawer and pulled out a small notepad, flipping to a blank page. At the top, she wrote "Professional Growth Opportunities" and began listing possibilities—conferences, workshops, industry networking events. Beneath those, she added a new section: "Career Advancement Considerations."

It was time to at least explore what else might be out there. Not running away, she told herself firmly. Just opening doors to new possibilities.

* * *

Late February 2025 - Y/N's Apartment

"You cut your hair!" Lucas exclaimed through the video call; his surprise evident even through the slightly pixelated connection.

Y/N ran a hand through her newly shortened locks, the blunt bob falling just above her shoulders. "Needed a change."

"It looks good," Aaron chimed in from his section of the screen. "Professional but edgy."

"Very 'new year, new me,'" Matt added with a knowing grin. "Any particular reason for the makeover?"

Y/N rolled her eyes at her oldest brother's transparent fishing. "Can't a woman change her hairstyle without it being some dramatic statement?"

"Sure," Matt agreed easily. "But this is you we're talking about. You've had the same haircut since college."

"Maybe I'm just embracing change," Y/N replied, adjusting her laptop on the kitchen counter as she poured herself a glass of wine. "It's already been a different kind of year."

"Different how?" Lucas asked, leaning closer to his camera. "Besides the whole Burrow-buffer situation."

Y/N shot him a warning look. "Different professionally. The team's reorganizing some workflows for the offseason, I'm delegating more responsibilities, focusing on bigger picture strategy."

"Sounds like progress," Aaron said supportively. "Taking on more leadership."

"Exactly," Y/N agreed, grateful for the positive framing. "And personally, I'm just... creating space for new experiences."

Matt's eyebrows rose. "New experiences? Like what? Or should I say who?"

"Not everything is about dating, Matt," Y/N said with exasperation. "I meant trying new things, new routines. I joined a recreational soccer league, I'm taking a photography workshop that has nothing to do with sports, I'm exploring Cincinnati beyond just the parts connected to work."

"All good things," Lucas conceded. "But also perfectly timed with a certain quarterback being away for months."

Y/N took a deliberate sip of wine before answering. "The offseason is always a good time for personal development. Slower pace at work, fewer immediate demands."

Her brothers exchanged knowing glances; a silent communication developed over decades of siblinghood.

"What?" Y/N demanded.

"Nothing," Aaron said innocently. "Just wondering if any of this personal development includes dating apps."

Y/N felt a flush rising in her cheeks. "Maybe. Just exploring options."

"Ha!" Matt crowed triumphantly. "I knew it!"

"It's not a big deal," Y/N insisted, already regretting the admission. "Just getting back out there. Meeting new people."

"Non-football people, I'm guessing," Lucas observed shrewdly.

"Preferably," Y/N acknowledged. "It's complicated enough dating in this city without the sports connection."

"Any promising prospects?" Aaron asked.

Y/N shrugged, attempting casual indifference. "A few matches, couple of conversations. Had coffee with an architect last week. Dinner with a biotech researcher tomorrow."

"Look at you go," Matt said with genuine enthusiasm. "The Y/L/N dating revival tour of 2025."

"Don't make it a bigger deal than it is," Y/N warned. "I'm just putting myself out there. Creating possibilities."

"Creating possibilities or creating distance?" Lucas asked quietly.

The question hung in the air, too perceptive to brush off entirely. Y/N took another sip of wine before responding.

"Both, maybe," she admitted. "Is that so wrong?"

Her brothers' expressions softened collectively, their teasing giving way to genuine concern.

"Not wrong," Aaron assured her. "Just make sure you're moving toward something, not just away from someone."

"I am," Y/N insisted, though even to her own ears the assertion lacked complete conviction. "This is about me taking control of my narrative. My happiness."

"Then we support you completely," Matt said firmly. "New hair, new dates, new Y/N. We're here for it."

The conversation shifted to lighter topics, Matt's kids' latest sports achievements, Aaron's house renovation, Lucas's promotion. Y/N found herself relaxing into the familiar rhythm of family banter, grateful for the shift away from her personal life.

Later, after ending the call, Y/N stood before her bathroom mirror, studying her reflection. The new haircut did suit her, sharper, more sophisticated, a deliberate departure from the woman who had spent four years documenting Joe Burrow from behind a camera.

Her phone chimed with a dating app notification, the biotech researcher confirming tomorrow's dinner plans. Y/N sent a quick reply, then set her phone aside.

This was good, she told herself firmly. Creating new connections, exploring possibilities that had nothing to do with the Bengals or their quarterback. A healthy step forward, not just a retreat from complicated feelings.

She was finally putting herself first. It was long overdue.

* * *

March 2025 - Downtown Cincinnati

"To the most intimidating person at this table finally taking a vacation," Sam declared, raising her cocktail glass in a toast. "The social media world will somehow survive without you for ten days."

Y/N laughed, clinking her glass against Sam's. "The detailed content calendar I left should help with that."

"Of course you left a minute-by-minute workflow document," Sam rolled her eyes affectionately. "Heaven forbid anything be unplanned."

"Planning is what makes spontaneity possible," Y/N replied with a grin, taking a sip of her drink.

They were seated at a corner table in one of Cincinnati's trendier downtown restaurants, celebrating Y/N's imminent departure for a ten-day Mediterranean cruise, her first real vacation since joining the Bengals five years ago.

"I still can't believe you're actually going," Sam said, studying her friend across the table. "Five years of 'maybe next offseason' and suddenly you're jetting off to Europe."

Y/N shrugged; the gesture deliberately casual. "Seemed like the right time. Quiet period at work, no major content launches, draft prep well underway."

"Mmhmm," Sam hummed skeptically. "Nothing to do with creating distance from a certain situation?"

"Not everything is about Joe," Y/N said, though without the defensive edge that would have accompanied such a statement months ago. "This is about me taking time for myself."

"About time," Sam agreed, signaling the waiter for another round. "Though I'm guessing the dating experiment factoring into this too?"

Y/N made a face. "Let's just say five mediocre dates in three weeks was enough to convince me that Cincinnati's dating pool might not be my solution."

"That bad?"

"Not bad," Y/N clarified. "Just... nothing sparked. Nice enough guys, decent conversations, but no real connection."

"Because they're not—"

"Don't say it," Y/N interrupted, holding up a warning finger. "We're having a nice dinner celebrating my vacation, not psychoanalyzing my dating life."

Sam raised her hands in surrender. "Fine, fine. To Mediterranean adventures and leaving work behind."

They clinked glasses again as the waiter arrived with fresh drinks. The conversation shifted to vacation details—island stops, excursion plans, the novel Y/N had been saving for beach reading.

"Oh, I almost forgot to mention," Sam said casually as they were finishing dinner. "There was an interesting development today."

Y/N raised an eyebrow. "Work related?"

"Sort of," Sam replied, stirring her drink. "Ellie James signed with a new modeling agency. The announcement went up on social media this morning."

Y/N kept her expression deliberately neutral. "And this is relevant because...?"

"The agency's based in New York," Sam explained. "According to the press release, she'll be relocating there immediately for a major campaign."

Y/N absorbed this information, carefully controlling her reaction. "Good for her career, I suppose."

"Interesting timing though," Sam observed. "Joe's still training in California for at least another month."

Y/N shrugged, feigning indifference. "Long distance relationships exist, especially with their jobs."

"True," Sam conceded. "Just thought you'd want to know before you disappear to the Mediterranean without Wi-Fi."

"I'll have Wi-Fi," Y/N corrected automatically. "Just limited access."

"The point is," Sam pressed gently, "things change quickly sometimes. Situations evolve."

Y/N studied her friend's face. "Are you suggesting I should care about Joe and Ellie's relationship status before going on vacation?"

"I'm suggesting that while you're out there finding yourself on Greek islands, remember that circumstances back home might not be exactly as you left them."

Y/N shook her head slightly. "You're reading too much into a modeling contract, Sam."

"Maybe," Sam allowed. "Or maybe I've watched you construct an elaborate professional fortress around yourself because of someone who might not even be in the picture much longer."

The statement hung between them, more direct than their usual carefully worded conversations about Joe. Y/N took a deliberate sip of her drink before responding.

"Whether Joe and Ellie are together or not doesn't change anything," she said finally. "The boundaries I've created are professional and necessary."

"If you say so," Sam replied, clearly unconvinced. "Just promise me one thing?"

"What's that?"

"While you're sailing the Mediterranean with your new haircut and your summer dresses, actually be present for it. Don't spend the whole time thinking about what you're avoiding back here."

Y/N smiled, a genuine one that reached her eyes. "That, I can promise. This trip is about me, not about leaving something behind."

Later that night, as Y/N finished packing her suitcase, her phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number.

Ted Karras: Hey, heard you’re taking off for a bit. Just wanted to say safe travels and good luck with whatever’s next. We’ll miss having you around…won’t be the same without you.

Y/N smiled at the thoughtful message from the center before typing back a quick thank you. As she set her phone down, she wondered briefly who else might have heard about her vacation plans, whether the news had traveled to California via team group chats or casual conversations.

She pushed the thought away firmly. It didn't matter. This trip wasn't about Joe Burrow, or her feelings for him, or the careful distance she'd constructed to protect herself.

This was about reclaiming parts of herself that had been overshadowed by four years of professional dedication. About remembering who Y/N Y/L/N was beyond her role with the Bengals, beyond the camera lens through which she'd watched Joe Burrow's career unfold.

As she zipped her suitcase closed, Y/N felt a sense of lightness she hadn't experienced in months. Ten days away from Cincinnati, from the facility, from everything that reminded her of complicated feelings and professional boundaries.

Ten days to just be herself, without the weight of unrequited love or the armor of professional distance.

She was more than ready.

* * *

Late March 2025 - Y/N's Apartment

Y/N set her keys on the kitchen counter, taking in the familiar sight of her apartment after ten days away. The space felt smaller somehow, or perhaps she was simply seeing it through new eyes—eyes that had gazed upon Mediterranean sunsets and ancient ruins, that had watched waves break against unfamiliar shores.

Her phone buzzed with an incoming call. Sam's name flashed on the screen.

"The world traveler returns," Sam declared when Y/N answered. "How does Cincinnati feel after the Greek Isles?"

"Familiar," Y/N replied, moving to open her balcony door, letting in fresh spring air. "But different too. Or maybe I'm the one who's different."

"That's usually how good vacations work," Sam said. "Get any perspective while you were floating in the Mediterranean?"

Y/N smiled, settling onto her couch. "Some. Remembered what it feels like to be completely removed from work, from deadlines, from content calendars."

"And from a certain quarterback situation?"

"That too," Y/N admitted. "Though apparently I needed to cross the Atlantic to stop thinking about it."

"But you did stop thinking about it?" Sam pressed.

Y/N considered this as she gazed out at the Cincinnati skyline. "Not entirely. But I found some clarity."

"Enlighten me with your Mediterranean wisdom," Sam prompted.

"I realized I've been letting my feelings for Joe define too much of my professional path," Y/N explained. "Creating distance, restructuring workflows, delegating assignments—all reactions to emotional complications rather than genuine professional strategy."

"That sounds remarkably self-aware," Sam observed. "What brought on this epiphany?"

"I was sitting on this perfect beach in Santorini," Y/N said, the memory vivid in her mind, "and I realized I couldn't remember the last time I made a decision that wasn't at least partially about Joe Burrow. Whether creating distance from him or manufacturing reasons to be near him, he's been this gravitational center I've been orbiting for years."

"And now?"

"Now I think it's time to make decisions that are truly about me. My career. My future. Not just reactions to complicated feelings."

There was a brief silence before Sam spoke again. "So... what does that mean practically?"

Y/N took a deep breath. "It means I'm going to return to normal professional interactions with Joe when he gets back for OTAs. No buffer system, no elaborate avoidance. Just appropriate boundaries like I have with any other player."

"That's... mature," Sam said, sounding surprised. "And you think you can maintain that without the old feelings complicating things?"

"I think I have to," Y/N replied simply. "For my own professional integrity. I can't keep restructuring an entire department around avoiding one person."

"Fair enough," Sam agreed. "Though I should probably mention that while you were gone—"

Y/N's other line beeped. "Hold that thought, Sam. It's my brother calling. Let me tell him I'll call back."

"This is actually important—" Sam began, but Y/N had already switched calls.

"Hey Matt, can I call you back in a few? I'm on the other line with Sam."

"Yeah, just checking when you're sending the pics from Greece. Mom's been asking."

"I'll send them tonight. Talk to you later." Y/N switched back to Sam. "Sorry about that. My family's been hounding me for vacation photos."

"As I was saying," Sam continued, "while you were gone, there's been some interesting movement in the Ellie situation. She's been in New York for some modeling thing while Joe's still training in California."

Y/N kept her expression carefully neutral. "Long-distance relationships exist, especially with their jobs."

“Maybe so,” Sam said. “But Uno heard from a trainer that things aren’t great. She’s still posting like everything’s fine, though.”

Y/N shook her head slightly. "I appreciate the intel, but I'm really trying not to focus on Joe's relationship status anymore."

"Fair enough," Sam conceded. "But speaking of status changes... any plans to get back on the dating apps now that you're home and refreshed?"

Y/N laughed, looking out at the Cincinnati skyline through her window. "I don't know. Five mediocre dates before vacation was enough to make me question the whole enterprise."

"The architect wasn't that bad," Sam countered.

"He spent forty-five minutes talking about load-bearing walls," Y/N deadpanned. "And the biotech researcher asked if I watched football because his ex-made him go to a game once."

"Okay, so those were duds," Sam admitted. "But there's a whole city of eligible men who aren't Joe Burrow."

"That's the problem, isn't it?" Y/N said quietly, the humor fading from her voice.

After hanging up, Y/N moved to her balcony, watching as evening settled over Cincinnati. Her vacation had given her clarity about many things, but returning to real life meant confronting the same challenges with hopefully a fresher perspective.

She scrolled through her phone to the dating app she'd downloaded before her trip. Five conversations that had fizzled, five dates that had gone nowhere. It wasn't that the men were terrible—they just weren't... well, they weren't Joe.

With a decisive swipe, Y/N deleted the app. Dating as a distraction wasn't the answer. Focusing on herself and her career was what mattered now.

As the city lights began to twinkle in the growing darkness, Y/N couldn't help wondering how different her life might look in a few months. Would she finally be free of these feelings? Would she be able to work with Joe without the constant ache? Or would she always be caught in this orbit around him, never quite able to break free?

Whatever happened, she was determined to stop letting Joe Burrow be the gravitational center of her existence. It was time to create her own center.

* * *

Mid-April 2025 - Bengals Facility

"I'm going to need you to run point on the draft content next week," Kayla said, leaning against Y/N's office doorframe. "The coverage plan you put together is excellent."

Y/N nodded, making a note on her calendar. "I've got Marcus and Jess already prepped for day one. We should have comprehensive coverage across all platforms."

"Great. And one more thing, Joe's back in the building today. Earlier than expected for the voluntary workouts."

Y/N's pencil paused mid-note, but her expression remained neutral. "Thanks for the heads up."

Kayla studied her for a moment. "You good with that? You've been handling quarterback content through Tyler since..."

"Since January," Y/N supplied, keeping her voice professionally even. "And yes, I'm fine. My approach has evolved since before vacation."

"Evolved how?"

"Professional but not distant," Y/N explained. "I realized I can't reorganize an entire department around avoiding one person."

Kayla nodded, looking slightly relieved. "That's... mature. Though for what it's worth, Tyler's done well with the quarterback content. If you wanted to keep that delegation, no one would question it."

"I appreciate that," Y/N said. "But I think normal professional interactions are the healthier approach long-term."

After Kayla left, Y/N sat motionless, processing this unexpected development. Joe wasn't supposed to return until next week, after most players began trickling in for the voluntary offseason program.

She'd planned to ease back into normal interactions with him, not be confronted with his presence on her first week back from vacation. Still, this was a test of her Mediterranean resolve, her commitment to making decisions based on professional merit rather than emotional complications.

Y/N glanced at her watch. She had a content review meeting in fifteen minutes on the opposite side of the facility. To get there, she'd need to pass directly by the weight room, the most likely place Joe would be this morning.

So much for easing back into normal professional interactions. Their first encounter in months was now imminent, and it would happen without the buffer time she'd hoped for.

Y/N gathered her tablet and notes, steeling herself for the inevitable. She'd spent ten days floating in the Mediterranean finding perspective, surely, she could handle a brief hallway encounter with the quarterback.

Even if that quarterback was Joe Burrow. Even if she hadn't seen him since January. Even if her newly cultivated self-awareness was about to be tested in the most direct way possible.

* * *

Same Day - Hallway Encounter

Y/N walked purposefully down the main corridor, tablet tucked against her chest, eyes focused ahead as if her survival depended on reaching the conference room without distraction. She'd almost made it past the weight room when the door swung open.

Joe stepped out, still mid-conversation with the strength coach, a towel draped around his neck. He wore standard issue Bengals training gear, his hair slightly damp from exertion. He looked good, California training clearly agreed with him.

Their eyes met before either could pretend not to notice the other. For a split second, Y/N saw genuine surprise register on his face before his expression settled into something more controlled.

"Y/N," he said, with a slight nod, his voice betraying nothing.

"Joe," she replied, maintaining her stride but slowing just enough to be polite. "Welcome back."

"Thanks," he said, then added with deliberate casualness, "Heard you've been busy while I was gone."

The comment could have been innocuous—referencing her vacation perhaps, or the draft preparations—but the subtle emphasis made it clear he'd heard more than that. Perhaps about her dating experiments, or more likely, about her increasingly independent approach to work.

"Just the usual pre-draft chaos," Y/N replied smoothly. "How was California?"

A flash of something, frustration perhaps, crossed his features before he answered. "Productive. Good to be back though."

An awkward silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken questions. The strength coach, sensing the tension, murmured something about paperwork and retreated to his office.

"I should get to my meeting," Y/N said, gesturing vaguely down the hall.

"Right," Joe agreed, though he made no move to continue on his way. Instead, he studied her face with unexpected intensity. "You cut your hair."

The observation caught Y/N off guard—such a personal notice after months of distance. "Yes. Before my trip."

"It looks good," he said simply, the comment landing somewhere between professional courtesy and personal appreciation.

"Thanks," Y/N replied, unsure how to respond to this strange middle ground they seemed to be occupying, not the cold distance of recent months, but not the easy rapport they'd once shared either.

Joe shifted his weight slightly, clearly contemplating saying more, then appeared to think better of it. "Good luck with your meeting," he said finally, stepping aside to let her pass.

"Thanks," Y/N repeated, hating how inadequate the word felt. "Good to have you back."

As she continued down the hall, Y/N could feel his eyes following her. She maintained her composure until turning the corner, then let out a slow breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

One brief encounter, and all her Mediterranean perspective threatened to evaporate. Joe Burrow was back in Cincinnati, apparently aware of the changes in her life during his absence, and somehow still able to throw her off balance with nothing more than a comment about her haircut.

This was going to be harder than she'd anticipated.

* * *

Late April 2025 - Bengals Facility

"And that's a wrap on the quarterback segment," Y/N announced, reviewing the footage on her camera's display. "Looks good. Thanks for your time, Joe."

Joe nodded but made no immediate move to leave the media room. He'd been professional throughout the shoot, following direction smoothly, answering questions with his usual thoughtful precision. But Y/N had felt his eyes on her whenever the camera lowered, studying her with a quiet intensity that made maintaining her composed façade increasingly difficult.

"New workflow seems to be working well," he commented as Y/N packed her equipment. "Though Tyler's approach is different from yours."

Y/N kept her movements methodical, not looking up. "Everyone has their own style. He's been doing great work with the quarterback content."

"He has," Joe agreed. "But it's good to have you back in the mix too."

Y/N finally met his gaze, keeping her expression professionally pleasant. "Just filling in today since he's covering the offensive line segments."

Something flickered in Joe's eyes, disappointment, perhaps, or frustration. "Right. Just filling in."

An uncomfortable silence stretched between them as Y/N continued packing. This was exactly the kind of interaction she'd been avoiding, loaded with unspoken tensions, complicated by history and feelings she was trying desperately to move past.

"I heard you've been dating," Joe said suddenly.

Y/N's hands fumbled slightly with her lens cap, but she recovered quickly. "Cincinnati's a small town."

"Tee mentioned something," Joe explained, his tone carefully casual. "Said you were... exploring options."

"Just getting out there," Y/N replied, striving for a neutral tone. "Nothing serious."

Joe nodded slowly, his expression unreadable. "Good. That's... good."

Another silence fell, heavier than before. Y/N snapped her camera bag closed with perhaps more force than necessary.

"Well, I should get this footage to editing," she said, slinging the bag over her shoulder. "Draft content won't produce itself."

"Y/N," Joe said, stopping her before she could reach the door. "Are we okay?"

The question caught her off guard, direct in a way their interactions rarely were. Y/N turned back, finding Joe watching her with an expression she couldn't quite decipher, something between concern and determination.

"We're fine," she said automatically. "Why wouldn't we be?"

"Because this is the first real conversation, we've had in months that wasn't strictly about work," Joe replied, his gaze steady. "Because you've been actively avoiding me since November. You created that buffer system, delegated all my media to Tyler, and now you're back from vacation with a new haircut and a new approach, and I feel like I'm constantly a step behind whatever's happening."

The directness of his assessment left Y/N momentarily speechless. She hadn't expected Joe, always so careful, so measured to lay things out so bluntly.

"I needed some perspective," she finally said, choosing her words with care. "The buffer system was about creating professional clarity. And yes, the vacation helped me realize some things needed to change. But that's not about you, Joe. It's about me figuring out who I am beyond this job."

"And dating random guys is part of that?" The question slipped out before Joe seemed to catch himself, a flash of something crossing his features before he schooled his expression.

Y/N felt a spark of indignation. "Who I date isn't really your concern, is it? Just like your relationship with Ellie isn't mine."

The mention of Ellie hung in the air between them, causing Joe to look away briefly.

"That's not—" he started, then stopped. "It's different."

"Is it?" Y/N replied, reaching for the door. "Look, Joe, we work together. We've always worked well together professionally. I'd like to keep it that way. Anything beyond that just... complicates things unnecessarily."

"So that's it?" Joe asked, a rare edge entering his voice. "We go back to player and media staff. Pretend the last four years never happened?"

"Not pretend they never happened," Y/N corrected gently. "Just acknowledge that professional boundaries exist for a reason. And I'm finally respecting them."

Before he could respond, she slipped out the door, heart hammering in her chest. She managed to make it to the empty edit bay before her careful composure cracked, leaning against the closed door as she drew a shaky breath.

This was so much harder than she'd anticipated. The wounded look in Joe's eyes, the direct confrontation about changes she'd made, the strange reaction when she'd mentioned her dating, none of it aligned with the carefully distanced relationship she was trying to establish.

But what did he expect? That she'd wait forever in this painful limbo while he built a life with someone else? That she'd continue putting her own needs aside to maintain whatever undefined connection had existed between them?

Y/N straightened, gathering her professional resolve once more. This conversation had been necessary, even if painful. Joe needed to understand that things had changed, that she had changed. That her Mediterranean epiphany wasn't just a temporary shift but a fundamental realignment of her priorities.

She was no longer defining herself through the lens of Joe Burrow. And painful as it was to see his confusion and frustration, it was a necessary step toward her own freedom.

A freedom that felt, for the moment, more like loss than liberation.

* * *

May 2025 - Bengals Facility

The organized team activities brought a renewed energy to the facility. Players filtering back, rookies finding their place, a steady rhythm of preparation beginning to build toward the new season. Y/N moved through this environment with calculated precision, overseeing content production, directing her team, and maintaining the professional boundaries she'd established with Joe.

Their interactions had settled into a workable pattern. Polite but not warm. Professional but not personal. She no longer actively avoided him, but neither did she seek out his company. When their paths crossed in professional contexts, she kept conversations focused on content needs, media strategies, and upcoming events.

"We need quarterback content for the season ticket promo," Kayla announced during the weekly planning meeting. "Y/N, can you handle that shoot, or do you want Tyler to take it?"

Y/N felt Joe's eyes on her from across the table but kept her attention on her notes. "Tyler's already scheduled for rookie breakout features that day. I can handle the quarterback segment."

She deliberately used the word "quarterback" rather than Joe's name, a small linguistic distance that helped maintain her professional frame of mind.

Kayla nodded, making a note. "Perfect. Joe, that work for your schedule?"

"Whatever works for the team," he replied, though his tone suggested more beneath the surface.

After the meeting dispersed, Y/N was gathering her materials when she realized Joe had lingered, waiting for the room to clear.

"You don't have to keep doing that, you know," he said quietly.

"Doing what?" Y/N asked, though she suspected she knew.

"Referring to me like I'm just a position on the team. 'Quarterback segment.' 'Quarterback content.' Like you can't even say my name."

Y/N met his gaze directly, maintaining her composure. "It's not intentional. Just professional shorthand."

"It's distance," Joe corrected, his voice low but firm. "And I get why you needed it before. But I thought after your vacation, after you said you wanted normal professional interactions, that maybe we'd at least be back to... I don't know, acknowledging we know each other?"

The hurt beneath his frustration was evident, and for a moment Y/N's resolve wavered. It had never been her intention to make him feel erased or depersonalized.

“You’re right,” she said quietly. “I'm sorry.”

Joe’s expression softened just a little. “I miss how we used to talk. Not about content. Just… you and me.”

The simple admission hung in the air between them, dangerously tempting. Y/N had missed those conversations too, the easy rhythm they'd once had, the way they could communicate volumes with just a look or gesture.

“I’ve been drawing a line,” she said. “Maybe I’ve drawn it too sharply.”

Joe seemed about to say more when his phone buzzed. He glanced at it, his expression shifting as he read the screen.

"Ellie's back from New York tomorrow," he said, the statement landing with a dull finality that reset the boundaries Y/N had been struggling to maintain.

"That's nice," Y/N replied, grateful for the reminder of reality. "I'm sure you've missed her."

Joe's expression was complicated, but he merely nodded. "See you at the promo shoot."

As he left, Y/N released a careful breath. This was exactly why boundaries were necessary. Whatever confusion existed between them, whatever unnamed feelings lingered, the reality remained unchanged: Joe was with Ellie. Their connection, however deep it might have once seemed, was professional at its core.

And Y/N was finally learning to accept that truth, however much it might ache.

* * *

June 2025 - Team Charity Event

The summer charity gala had become a centerpiece of the Bengals community calendar, bringing together players, staff, and Cincinnati's elite for an evening of fundraising and relationship building. Y/N checked her camera settings as she moved around the perimeter of the elegant ballroom, documenting the event for team content. After five years with the team, this was familiar territory - capturing candid moments of players interacting with donors, coaches mingling with corporate sponsors, all while remaining professionally invisible.

"Y/N, when you're done with the general shots, we need table photos," Sam said through her earpiece. As Social Media Manager, Y/N was overseeing the team's coverage strategy, even as she handled key photography herself. "The owner wants formal shots of each sponsored table."

"Got it," Y/N confirmed, adjusting her lens as she surveyed the room. "I'll start at the north end and work my way around."

She moved efficiently, her black cocktail dress allowing her to blend professionally with the event while still being able to maneuver for shots. Her newly shortened hair was pulled back in a sleek style that kept it out of her way as she worked. Despite being on duty, she had to admit it felt good to dress up occasionally, to step out from behind her usual casual work attire.

"Looking sharp tonight, Y/N," Coach Taylor said as he passed, stopping briefly. "The team's lucky to have you documenting these events. You always catch the moments everyone else misses."

"Thanks, Coach," she replied with a professional smile. "Just doing my job."

"Well, you do it better than most," he said, nodding toward her camera. "Make sure you get my good side when you hit our table."

Y/N laughed. "I always do."

As she continued her circuit of the room, Y/N spotted Joe's arrival with Ellie. It was impossible not to notice them – Ellie in a stunning red gown that seemed designed to draw every eye in the room, Joe in a perfectly tailored suit looking every inch the franchise quarterback. His expression carried its usual hint of reserve at these public events, the carefully maintained media face Y/N had documented for years.

She raised her camera reflexively, capturing their entrance from a professional distance. Though her buffer system had evolved into something less rigid since her vacation, she still maintained careful boundaries when it came to Joe. Especially in situations like this, where Ellie was prominently by his side.

For an hour, Y/N focused entirely on her work, moving from table to table, capturing the formal group photos requested by the organization. She was professional and efficient, directing groups into position, ensuring everyone was properly arranged, getting the shots needed for team publications and sponsor recognition.

Eventually, she reached table eleven.

"Joe Burrow's table is next," Sam's voice came through her earpiece. "Just a heads up."

Y/N approached the table professionally, camera ready. "Evening, everyone. Time for the official table photo."

Joe's eyes found her immediately, a flicker of something passing across his features before he settled into his media smile. Ellie sat beside him, her own camera-ready smile warming as Y/N approached.

"Y/N," Joe nodded in acknowledgment. "Didn't realize you'd be shooting tonight."

“Last-minute call,” she replied smoothly, adjusting the strap on her camera. “We needed a few extra hands.”

Before he could say more, Ellie turned toward her with a bright smile.

“You must be Y/N,” she said warmly, extending a hand. “Joe’s told me so much about you. I’ve seen your work, it’s amazing.”

Y/N blinked, just slightly caught off guard, but recovered quickly as she shook Ellie’s hand. “Thanks. I appreciate that.”

"Just try to keep it authentic," Y/N replied, a bit thrown by the compliment coming indirectly from Joe. She raised her camera, moving to the side of the table. "Actually, I'm capturing candids tonight, so everyone just continue your conversations naturally. Pretend I'm not even here."

Joe's eyes found hers as she circled the table, capturing natural interactions between the guests. Ellie laughed at something a sponsor said, the sound genuine and warm. Y/N caught the moment perfectly, Ellie's natural charisma on full display.

When Joe tried to catch her eye with a questioning look, Y/N maintained her focus on the technical aspects of the shots, moving from angle to angle without engaging directly.

"Perfect, thank you everyone," Y/N said after capturing several options. "Enjoy your evening."

As she turned to move to the next table, Ellie touched her arm lightly. "I hope we get to talk more later. Joe says you have the best stories about the team."

Y/N managed a polite smile, unsure how to respond to Ellie's friendliness. It was much easier when she could imagine Joe's girlfriend as distant or intimidating, this genuine warmth was unexpected and, somehow, worse.

"Maybe next time," Y/N replied. "I've got quite a few tables left to photograph."

"Taking a break?"

Joe's voice came from behind her, and Y/N turned to find him approaching alone, hands in his pockets, his expression unreadable in the dim terrace lighting.

"Just a quick breather," she replied, automatically raising her professional shield. "Lots of photos still to get."

Joe moved to stand beside her at the railing, looking out at the city lights. "Your buffer system has evolved, I see."

Y/N glanced at him, confused. "What do you mean?"

"You're actually speaking to me at public events now," he said, a hint of sharpness beneath the casual observation. "That's progress from January."

"I'm trying to be more normal about everything," Y/N replied carefully. "Like I said when I got back from vacation, appropriate professional boundaries, not complete avoidance."

“That why you practically sprinted away from our table?”

“I have other tables to shoot.”

Joe turned to her, more serious now. “Come on. We haven’t had a real conversation in months. And I’m supposed to pretend that’s normal?”

“Maybe you’re not supposed to pretend. Maybe you’re supposed to notice.”

He blinked. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Y/N faced him fully now, heat rising in her chest. “It means one day we’re grabbing lunch and spending time together outside of work, and the next I find out you have a girlfriend because someone broke into your house.”

Joe’s face fell. “That’s not how I meant for you to find out—”

“But that’s how I did,” she cut in, voice rising. “And then I had to walk into a boardroom full of execs and help manage the media fallout. I had to craft a strategy, prep your talking points, anticipate questions—all while pretending like I wasn’t finding out in real time that you’d been lying by omission for half a year.”

“It wasn’t lying—”

“It was hiding,” she snapped. “You hid her. Not just from the world, but from me.”

Joe’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t interrupt this time.

“You didn’t owe me the details,” Y/N said. “But you knew what we were. What it felt like. You showed up in my life every day. You let it mean something. And when it stopped meaning something to you, you didn’t have the decency to say a word. You just let me show up to work and write press releases while I pretended it didn’t feel like a slap in the face.”

Joe’s voice was low. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“But you did,” she said. “Not by being with her. By making me feel like I never mattered in the first place.”

A beat passed. Joe stepped forward, something in his face shifting. “You mattered.”

“Not enough,” she said. “Not enough to be honest with.”

"There you are!"

Ellie's cheerful voice cut through the tension as she stepped onto the terrace, elegant and smiling in her red gown. "I've been looking everywhere for you, babe. They're about to do the team recognition on stage, and the owner specifically asked for you to join them."

Joe's expression froze, the moment shattered. He glanced from Ellie to Y/N, clearly caught between their interrupted conversation and his public obligations.

"I'll be right there," he said to Ellie, his voice carefully controlled.

Ellie's gaze shifted between them, noticing the tension but misreading its cause. "I'm not interrupting work talk, am I? I can tell them you'll be a minute."

"No interruption," Y/N said quickly, professional mask snapping back into place. "I was just about to head back in myself. I still have the owner's table to photograph."

Ellie smiled warmly. "Your photos have been amazing tonight. I peeked at some on the photographer's display earlier, you have a gift for capturing genuine moments."

"Thank you," Y/N managed, the sincerity in Ellie's compliment making her feel a complicated mix of guilt and confusion. "That's very kind."

Joe still hadn’t looked away. “Ellie, can you give us just a minute? We weren’t quite finished.”

Ellie blinked, surprised, but nodded. “Sure. I’ll tell them you’re on your way.”

Before she could step back, Y/N raised her camera between them like a barrier.

“I think we are,” she said. “You should go. They’re waiting for you.”

As Joe and Ellie walked away, her hand slipping naturally into his, Y/N remained on the terrace, the tension of the moment still vibrating beneath her skin. He hadn’t admitted anything—not really. But the way he looked at her, the way he’d tried to stay, it said more than he probably meant it to.

And still, it didn’t change the facts.

Joe was with someone. Publicly. Proudly. And whatever confusion lingered in his eyes didn’t undo the confusion that came before it.

More concerning, why was Ellie so genuinely nice? It would be so much easier if she were coldly dismissive or professionally distant. Instead, her warmth and friendliness only highlighted the impossibility of Y/N's situation.

Whatever that moment was, it didn’t undo the months that came before it. Joe had made his choices. Y/N had built walls around hers. And whatever crossed between them tonight would stay right here, unspoken, unfinished, and irrelevant to what came next.

* * *

June 2025 - Bengals Facility

Two weeks after the charity gala, Y/N settled into her desk chair, reviewing the content calendar for rookie development features. The confrontation with Joe on the terrace had shifted something between them, created a clarity that was both painful and necessary. She no longer avoided him completely, but their interactions had taken on a careful formality that others had begun to notice.

"Final approval on the draft recap?" Tyler asked, hovering in her doorway with tablet in hand.

"Almost done," Y/N replied, gesturing him in. "The rookie piece looks good. Strong narrative arc on Wilson's journey from D-II to first-round pick."

As they reviewed the footage together, Y/N's phone lit up with a text from Sam:

Sam: Lunch? Need to hear about your brother's new house before I explode from curiosity

Y/N smiled. Her weekend trip to Louisville had been a welcome distraction from the uncomfortable tension that had pervaded the facility since the charity event.

Y/N: Cafeteria in 15

"That's everything," Tyler said, accepting the tablet back. "Oh, heads up, quarterback's looking for footage from last season's Raiders game. Told him you'd know where to find the breakdowns."

Y/N maintained her neutral expression. "Email me the specific request and I'll have staff pull what he needs."

Tyler nodded, though his eyebrows lifted slightly at her response. Six months ago, she would have handled Joe's request personally.

After he left, Y/N leaned back in her chair, exhaling slowly. This was working. Professional distance without complete avoidance. Delegation without being obvious. Building a structure that allowed her to do her job without constantly inhabiting Joe Burrow's orbit.

* * *

In the cafeteria, Sam was already waiting, two salads on the table. "So," she said as Y/N sat down, "Louisville looked like it agreed with you."

"It was good," Y/N confirmed, spearing a cucumber. "Matt's new place is gorgeous, and Aaron's kids have gotten huge. Weird being the sister visiting from out of town now, but..." she shrugged. "That's growing up, I guess."

"And how's the facility vibe this week? Any more awkward terrace confrontations I should know about?"

Y/N rolled her eyes. "No, thank god. We're being perfectly professional adults."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning I forward his requests to staff, he acknowledges me in meetings with appropriate professionalism, and we exist in the same space without drama."

Sam took a sip of her water. "And that's progress?"

"That's reality," Y/N corrected. "It's not avoidance, just...appropriate boundaries."

Before Sam could respond, a familiar voice reached them from the service line. Joe stood with Chase and Higgins, tray in hand, laughing at something Chase had said. Y/N kept her focus on her salad, but felt the subtle shift in energy as Joe noticed her.

The three players settled at a table across the room. While Chase and Higgins continued their animated conversation, Y/N could feel Joe's occasional glance toward her table. Not obvious, not prolonged—just brief moments of awareness.

"So that's the new normal," Sam murmured, noticing the dynamic. "You both pretending not to notice each other while being hyper-aware of every move."

"It's just temporary," Y/N said quietly. "Eventually we'll find a truly neutral rhythm."

"And if that never happens?"

Y/N met her friend's gaze directly. "It has to. For both our sakes."

As lunch ended, Y/N gathered her things, deliberately maintaining her composure as she and Sam walked past the players' table. She offered a polite nod to the group, including Joe without focusing on him specifically.

"Y/N," Joe called as she passed, his voice carefully casual. "Did Tyler mention I was looking for those Raiders breakdowns?"

She turned, professional smile in place. "He did. I've got staff pulling them. Should be in your inbox by this afternoon."

Something flickered in Joe's eyes, recognition of her deliberate distancing, perhaps, or memory of what she'd said on the terrace. He gave a small nod. "Appreciate it."

That would have been the moment, before the charity gala, when one of them might have suggested reviewing the footage together, or when casual conversation would have extended the interaction. Now, they both simply nodded and moved on.

"Team meeting at two," Kayla announced, passing them in the hallway. "Full staff, content planning for training camp."

"We'll be there," Y/N confirmed, continuing toward her office with Sam.

Once they were alone in the elevator, Sam raised an eyebrow. "Still think this isn't avoidance?"

Y/N pressed the button for their floor. "It's not avoidance. It's creating space."

"And how long do you plan to keep creating this space?"

Y/N watched the floor numbers rise. "As long as it takes."

* * *

The full staff meeting filled the main conference room, coaches, PR team, and content staff gathered around the long table. Y/N took notes as Kayla outlined the training camp content expectations, deliberately choosing a seat that kept her sight line clear of where Joe typically sat.

"We'll need comprehensive coverage of the quarterbacks' dynamic," Kayla continued. "Media's focused on how Burrow is mentoring Thompson as the rookie develops."

Y/N glanced up at the mention of Joe's name and found him already looking at her from across the table, that thoughtful expression she knew so well. They both looked away quickly, returning to their notes.

"Y/N will lead the content strategy," Kayla was saying. "Her team has prepared an excellent coverage plan for both fan engagement and media needs."

With professional confidence, Y/N presented the content calendar she'd developed, outlining coverage plans, key storylines, and platform-specific approaches. Four years leading the team's social presence had given her a comprehensive understanding of what resonated with both casual fans and dedicated followers.

"We're focusing on four core narratives," she explained, moving through her slides with practiced ease. "Veteran leadership, rookie development, team culture, and community connections."

As she outlined each segment, Y/N maintained eye contact with various staff members around the table, deliberately including Joe in her gaze without allowing it to linger. This was her world, her expertise. Here, she was confident and assured, regardless of personal complications.

"Questions?" she asked, concluding her presentation.

"The quarterback development piece," Joe said, his voice measured. "How are you approaching the narrative balance there?"

Y/N met his gaze directly, professional mask firmly in place. "Equal coverage of both perspectives. Your veteran experience and leadership paired with Thompson's learning curve. We'll highlight the mentorship dynamic without manufacturing competition where there isn't any."

Joe nodded, something like approval flickering across his features. "Sounds right. If you need any specific content from either of us, just let us know."

"Tyler will coordinate those segments," Y/N replied smoothly. "He's been handling the quarterback features since January."

The slight narrowing of Joe's eyes was noticeable only to those who knew him well. The deliberate distance in her response, both the delegation and the phrasing, wasn't lost on him.

"Good," Kayla concluded, bringing the discussion back to logistics. "Let's finalize the practice schedule implications with Coach."

As the meeting continued, Y/N noticed Joe watching her when he thought she wasn't looking. Not with anger or confusion, but with something more contemplative, like he was working through a problem he couldn't quite solve.

Afterward, as everyone gathered their materials, Kayla approached Y/N. "That was excellent. The coverage plan is comprehensive and thoughtful."

"Thanks," Y/N smiled. "The team's put together some great concepts."

"Great work with the content calendar," Kayla said as they gathered their materials. "Your team's really stepped up with the position-specific features, especially Tyler with the quarterback coverage."

"Thanks," Y/N smiled. "Everyone's finding their strengths. Makes delegation easier."

Kayla nodded approvingly. "The workflow redistribution you implemented back in January has really paid off. Team's more balanced now."

As Kayla moved away, Y/N gathered her materials, aware of Joe still lingering at the table, clearly waiting for an opportunity to speak with her. She deliberately engaged another staff member in conversation as she exited, maintaining the careful distance she'd established.

This was the new rhythm, professional, composed, and constantly aware of the careful orbit they maintained around each other. Not too close, not too distant. Just enough space to breathe, to think, to remember who she was beyond the pull of Joe Burrow's gravity.

It wasn't perfect. But it was working. Most of the time.

* * *

July 2025 - Training Camp Preparation

The summer heat settled over Cincinnati as training camp approached. Y/N's days blurred into a steady rhythm of content planning, staff coordination, and careful navigation of facility spaces where she might encounter Joe.

Their new dynamic had stabilized into something workable, if not entirely comfortable. Professional exchanges. Brief acknowledgments in hallways. The occasional necessary conversation about media appearances or content needs, always conducted with others present.

Y/N had stopped watching for him in rooms, had trained herself not to track his movements or anticipate his schedule. But she remained aware, always, of his presence—like a swimmer conscious of a strong current nearby, not directly threatening but requiring constant adjustment.

"Final training camp content packages," Tyler announced, dropping a stack of folders on Y/N's desk. "Player features, community initiatives, and behind-the-scenes concepts all ready for approval."

"Perfect," Y/N said, already flipping through the materials. "The rookie series looks particularly strong."

"Thanks. I still need quarterback sit-downs for the leadership feature, though. Both Burrow and Thompson. When do you want to schedule those?"

Y/N looked up, keeping her expression neutral. "You and Marcus handle those interviews. I'll review the final edits."

Tyler hesitated. "Joe actually mentioned he was expecting you to conduct his segment. Something about continuity from previous training camps?"

The comment landed like a small stone in still water. Y/N set the folders down carefully, considering her response.

"I'll reach out to clarify," she said finally. "But the plan is for you to lead those pieces."

After Tyler left, Y/N stared at her computer screen, weighing her options. Joe was deliberately requesting her involvement, pushing against the boundaries she'd established. The professional approach would be to simply clarify the new workflow and maintain her distance.

Instead, she found herself typing a direct email:

Joe,

Tyler mentioned you were expecting me to conduct your training camp leadership interview. Our current workflow has shifted, with Tyler and Marcus handling player sit-downs while I focus on overall strategy and final approvals.

Please let me know if you have concerns about this approach. Happy to discuss alternatives that meet both content needs and current team structure.

Y/N

The response came less than ten minutes later:

Y/N,

No concerns. Just thought since you've handled my camp interviews for four years, there was an established approach. Context matters in how these pieces come together, as you've always understood.

Happy to work with Tyler and Marcus if that's the new direction.

Joe

Y/N read the message twice, noting the careful neutrality that nonetheless conveyed his disapproval. The implied question was clear: why change what worked? But the answer was equally clear, at least to her. Because what worked professionally had become personally unsustainable.

Before she could respond, Sam appeared in her doorway. "Lunch? I'm starving."

Y/N welcomed the interruption. "God, yes. Let me grab my phone."

As they walked toward the cafeteria, Sam nudged her gently. "You've got that look."

"What look?"

"The 'Joe Burrow is testing my professional boundaries' look. What happened?"

Y/N sighed. "He requested me specifically for his training camp interview. I redirected to Tyler and Marcus."

"And?"

"And he accepted it but made it clear he noticed the change."

Sam considered this as they collected their food. "Maybe he just values consistency. You know how quarterbacks are with their routines."

"Maybe," Y/N agreed, though she wasn't convinced. "Or maybe he's testing whether the boundaries are real."

They found a table near the window, away from the main section where players typically gathered. The cafeteria was quieter than usual, the late July lull before the full roster returned for camp.

"You know," Sam said after a few minutes of casual conversation, "you seem more balanced lately. More yourself."

Y/N looked up from her salad. "What do you mean?"

"I mean you're not constantly on alert for Joe's presence. You're not checking your phone for texts that might be from him. You're just... Y/N. Doing your job really well."

"Well, that was the point of creating distance," Y/N said, though she felt a quiet pride at Sam's observation. "To stop organizing my professional life around his orbit."

"It's working," Sam affirmed. "Whatever happened at that charity event, whatever you said to each other on that terrace, it seems to have cleared something."

Y/N thought back to that night, to the raw honesty of finally telling Joe how it felt to discover he'd hidden Ellie from her specifically. The hurt had been real, but expressing it had released something tight inside her chest.

"It helped," she admitted. "Saying it out loud instead of just thinking it."

They continued eating, conversation shifting to weekend plans and the upcoming preseason schedule. Y/N was laughing at Sam's story about a disastrous date when she looked up and froze.

Joe stood at the entrance to the cafeteria, eyes finding hers immediately. He wasn't alone. Ellie walked beside him, stunning in casual summer clothes, her hand resting lightly on his arm as they surveyed the room.

Y/N recovered quickly, returning her attention to Sam with practiced ease. But her heart hammered against her ribs, the unexpected sight of them together in her work sanctuary throwing her more than she wanted to admit.

"Heads up," Sam murmured. "Joe and Ellie, two o'clock."

"I saw," Y/N replied quietly. "Didn't realize she was visiting."

They continued their conversation, deliberately casual as Joe led Ellie to a table across the room. Y/N was acutely aware of them in her peripheral vision, of Ellie's animated gestures as she spoke, of Joe's more reserved responses.

"You good?" Sam asked, noticing Y/N's slightly too-tight grip on her water bottle.

"Fine," Y/N said with a quick smile. "Just surprised. She doesn't usually visit the facility."

"Want to leave?"

Y/N shook her head firmly. "No. This is my workplace too."

They finished their lunch without rushing, Y/N maintaining her composure through sheer determination. As they stood to leave, she nodded politely toward Joe and Ellie's table, professional acknowledgment without engagement.

"Y/N!" Ellie called, her voice warm and friendly. "How are you?"

Y/N paused, unable to ignore the direct greeting. "I'm good, thanks. Nice to see you again."

"You too," Ellie smiled. "Joe's been showing me around before everyone arrives for camp. This place is amazing."

"It is," Y/N agreed, keeping her tone light. "Enjoy the tour."

Joe watched this exchange with an unreadable expression, his eyes moving between the two women. "Y/N's been here since my rookie year," he said to Ellie. "She's documented pretty much every major moment of my NFL career."

There was something pointed in the observation, a reminder of their shared history that felt almost deliberate. Y/N maintained her professional smile.

"The whole media team has," she corrected gently. "It's been a collaborative effort."

"Not the rehab," Joe said, his gaze direct now. "That was all you."

The mention of those intimate rehabilitation sessions—hours spent documenting his pain, frustration, and determination—hung in the air between them. Y/N felt a flush threatening to rise to her cheeks.

"Well," she said, gathering her composure, "that's what made it such compelling content. Your journey back."

Ellie looked between them, clearly sensing the undercurrent but misreading its cause. "Joe mentioned how much those documentary pieces meant to fans. Your work really connected people to his recovery."

"That was the goal," Y/N replied, her professional mask firmly in place. "Glad it resonated." She glanced at her watch. "I should get back. Content review meeting in fifteen. Nice seeing you both."

As she walked away with Sam, Y/N could feel Joe's eyes following her. She maintained her stride, back straight, pace steady, the picture of professional composure until they rounded the corner toward the elevator.

"Holy awkward," Sam muttered as the doors closed. "What was that about?"

Y/N leaned against the elevator wall. "I have no idea. Why bring up the rehab documentation in front of Ellie?"

"Maybe because it was significant?" Sam suggested. "Those were pretty intense, personal shoots."

"Still. Strange timing to mention it."

Back in her office, Y/N tried to focus on the training camp content packages, but her mind kept returning to the cafeteria encounter. Joe rarely brought Ellie to the facility, and he'd never referenced their shared professional history so pointedly in front of her.

Her phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number:

Unknown: It was lovely seeing you again! Joe's giving me the full tour. Mentioned you might have some photos from charity event for my portfolio? No pressure if not! -Ellie

Y/N stared at the message, surprised by the direct contact. After a moment's consideration, she saved the number and replied:

Y/N: Of course. Happy to share what we have I'll pull the files and get them to you.

The response came quickly:

Ellie: That would be amazing! Whatever you think shows my best angles 😊 Joe says you have a great eye.

Y/N set her phone down, unsure how to navigate this unexpected development. She had kept her distance from Ellie for obvious reasons, yet now Joe was apparently recommending her professional services to his girlfriend. The situation felt unnecessarily complicated.

A knock on her door frame pulled her from these thoughts. Joe stood there, alone, expression neutral but intent.

"Got a minute?" he asked.

Y/N nodded, maintaining her professional demeanor. "Of course."

He stepped inside but didn't sit, instead remaining standing near the door. "I wanted to apologize if that was awkward. Ellie wanting to see the facility was... unexpected."

"It's fine," Y/N said smoothly. "She's always welcome here. She is your girlfriend."

Joe nodded, though something flickered in his expression at her matter-of-fact acknowledgment. "She mentioned asking about photos. You don't need to handle that personally. Any of the staff can pull those."

"I already told her I would," Y/N replied. "It's not a problem."

Joe studied her for a moment, his gaze more direct than it had been in months. "You've changed since your vacation."

The observation caught her off guard with its directness. "Have I?"

"Yes," he said simply. "More confident. More... definitive about boundaries."

Y/N met his gaze steadily. "I gained some perspective. About what I need professionally."

"Just professionally?" The question hung in the air between them, more personal than anything he'd asked in months.

"That's what matters here," Y/N replied carefully. "We work together. Everything else is secondary."

Joe nodded slowly; his expression thoughtful. "If that's what you need."

"It is."

He turned to leave, then paused. "For what it's worth, I should have told you about Ellie directly. Before it became public like that. You deserved that much."

The admission, the first acknowledgment of what she'd confronted him about on the terrace, landed with unexpected weight. Y/N maintained her composure, though her heart beat a little faster.

"Thank you for saying that."

After he left, Y/N sat quietly, processing the interaction. It wasn't dramatic or emotional, yet something significant had shifted. Joe had acknowledged her perspective, had seen the changes in her approach, had even apologized for something that had hurt her deeply.

It didn't change anything fundamentally. She would maintain her professional boundaries. Their working relationship would continue in this careful new balance. But the acknowledgment mattered.

She turned back to her computer, focusing once more on the training camp content plans. She had found her footing in this new dynamic. Now she just needed to maintain it, through training camp, through the season, through whatever complications lay ahead.

One day at a time. One professional interaction at a time. Building a sustainable rhythm that protected her heart while honoring her career.

Part Three

#joe burrow #joe burrow fanfic #joe burrow fanfiction #joe burrow fluff #nfl fan fic #nfl fanfic #nfl fanfiction #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow smut #joe burrow series #nfl imagine #nfl x reader #nfl series

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bgwlsmahf25 · 23 days ago

Text

Third Time's a Charm

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Warnings: angst; tears; brief mention of previous toxic relationship

Genre: angst/ fluff

a/n: hey guys i'm writing again! not doing too good, my grandad passed away recently so I haven't been writing as much since I found out, but I needed something a bit angsty but with a happy ending so I wrote this :) let me know what you think.

remember, you can always message me or drop ideas in my inbox and I'll get around to them, I can't promise it'll be quick but I'm happy to give them a go (i don't write smut)

“Hey, you. I’ve been looking everywhere for—wait, are you heading out?” Natasha came to a sudden stop in front of you, slightly breathless, her brow glistening from exertion. She was dressed in sleek running gear, her wired earphones bouncing lightly against her chest, one hand gripping her phone as she scanned you with curious eyes.

You shifted your weight, smoothing down the front of your dress with self-conscious fingers. “I, um… I have a date,” you admitted, your voice soft, almost unsure. “Do I—do I look okay?”

Natasha’s expression softened instantly. A smile spread across her face, full of warmth and sincerity. “Honey, you look amazing,” she said, her tone gentle but firm, as if daring you to believe anything less. “They’re lucky to have your time.”

A flutter of gratitude rose in your chest as you gave her a shy half-wave, a small nod of thanks. Natasha flashed you a wink before running off again, her red ponytail swaying behind her in the slight breeze.

A few hours later

You looked up from your book as there was a knock on your bedroom door. “Come in,” you called out, sitting up and using your finger as a marker in the book. Natasha poked her head around your door then came further into your room, shutting the door behind her. She was no longer in running gear, instead dressed casually in a faded henley shirt, jeans and combat boots.

“Hey, Nat,” you smiled, dog-earing the page and putting your book aside. She frowned and you glanced curiously at her, patting the edge of your bed for her to sit down. “What is it?”

“Tell me you didn’t just dog-ear that book.” She put a hand to her chest in mock horror, making you chuckle slightly. “Don’t you have any book markers?” Pulling an old receipt out of her jean pocket, she quickly folded it in two and handed it to you. “Use this until I can get you a better one.”

“Thanks, Nat.” You smoothed the page of your book and stuck Nat’s receipt in the book, before turning to her. “Anyway, what’s up?”

She smiled. “I came to see how the date went.” Noticing the drop in your expression and the way you fiddled with your fingers, her smile faded. “What’s wrong, y/n?”

“Oh, um, they - they didn’t show. Something came up at their work and it got really busy and they couldn’t leave and make it over in time for our date.” You smiled softly. “It’s okay though, we rescheduled for next week.”

“Hmm.” Natasha reached out and gently took your hand in hers. “I’m glad they apologised. I hope it goes well next week. Look, the boys and I are going to watch a movie. Do you want to come and join us?”

“Yeah, that sounds nice.” Natasha smiled and the two of you left your room, her arm loosely around your shoulders as you headed down to the state-of-the-art movie theatre that Tony had installed recently.

The following week

Once again, you were reading in your room, except this time it was a different book with a brand-new book marker that Natasha had given to you. You were so lost in the story that you didn’t hear the knock at your door. “Y/n? Are you there?” Looking up, you smiled, recognising Natasha’s voice. “Hey Nat, come in,” you called, setting your book aside. “What’s - woah, what happened to you?” you said, scrambling to your feet and examining a large bruise on her jaw.

She smiled ruefully. “It’s nothing, just left over from a recent mission. I’m fine,” she said firmly, grabbing your hands in hers and giving them a squeeze. “Now, how did your date go?”

Your face fell and Natasha frowned. “No,” she whispered, “they cancelled again?”

“It wasn’t their fault!” you blurted out. “They lost track of time and when they went to get the bus, they could make it out here to the compound but weren’t going to make it back to the city centre in time and they have work tomorrow.” You shrugged sadly. “It’s okay, Nat, we’ve rescheduled to next week.”

“No.” Natasha guided you to the edge of your bed and gently sat you down. “Y/n, this is not okay and not how someone should behave. You deserve so much better than this,” she whispered, immediately pulling you into a hug when tears appeared in your eyes. “I’ve got you,” she murmured against the top of your head.

“Nat,” you sniffled, “I’m fine. They’re definitely going to make it next week, they said so. Please. I’ve got a good feeling about them. It’s different this time.” You felt Natasha shift as she remembered the previous relationship you’d been in and the heartbreak and hurt you’d had to go through when it fell apart.

“I don’t think you should go through with this,” Natasha said honestly, pulling back and holding you tight by your shoulders.

“Nat, I want to do this,” you whispered. “Please, just let me have one date with them.”

The following week

Biting your lip, you wondered if this was a good idea, but you knew that Natasha would comfort you. Gently, you knocked on her door and stepped back, pushing your wet hair out of your face. The rain had soaked through your clothes, leaving you shivering. Natasha opened her door, took one look at you and pulled you inside, wordlessly reaching for a towel and wrapping it around you.

She didn’t say anything as she let you get changed into an old track suit of hers, and she continued to stay silent as you towelled off your hair and hung your wet clothes on her heated clothing airer. Once you were drier and dressed in warm clothes, she gestured to her bed. Slowly, you sat down and fiddled with the rough skin around your index finger, unable to meet her gaze. She waited, sensing that you wanted to speak first.

“You were right," you whispered. "I shouldn’t have gone through with it." You tried to steady yourself, but the words trembled as they left your lips and then your voice broke, the tears coming before you could stop them—hot, helpless, and full of everything you’d been holding in.

Her eyes softened instantly. “Hey…” she said, already closing the space between you. “Come here.”

She pulled you into her arms, not like a friend offering comfort, but like someone who had been waiting for this moment—to be needed by you, to hold you like this. You sank into her, your body fitting against hers like it belonged there, your face buried in the hollow of her neck.

Her hands moved gently across your back, one sliding up into your hair, the other gripping your waist just tightly enough to let you feel how badly she wanted to keep you close. Her breath was warm against your ear, and when she spoke again, it was soft and low, meant only for you.

“I’ve got you,” she murmured. “You don’t have to pretend with me. Not ever.”

Your heart ached at her closeness, at how safe it felt to fall apart in her arms. And still—there was something more in the way she held you, something unspoken lingering in the space between her lips and your skin.

Then, without thinking, her lips brushed your temple—slow, deliberate, lingering just long enough to make your breath hitch. It wasn’t just comfort anymore. It was something deeper, something neither of you had dared name until now.

And in that moment, held tightly against her heart, you wondered if maybe—just maybe—this was what love felt like before it said its name out loud. You stayed there for a while, wrapped in her arms, letting the rhythm of her breathing steady your own. Her fingertips moved slowly through your hair, soothing the storm inside you with each careful pass. The world had gone quiet around you—just the two of you, suspended in the soft hush of something unspoken finally beginning to take shape.

When you finally pulled back, it was only far enough to see her face. Her hands stayed on your waist, grounding you, her thumbs brushing slow, reassuring circles against your sides. You looked into her eyes, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you didn’t feel like you had to hide.

“I just…” you began. “I wanted it to be something good. A date I’d remember for the right reasons, not because it left me feeling worse. And instead, it just—”

She brought a hand up to your cheek, her touch featherlight. “Hey,” she said gently. “It’s not your fault it went that way. But remember, I know you deserve better than that. So much better.”

You gave her a watery smile, your heart aching a little less now. “I just… wish I knew what that looked like.”

She hesitated for only a breath, and then her thumb swept across your cheek, catching the last of your tears. Her eyes searched yours, and something shifted in them—something warm, certain, and just a little vulnerable.

“How about I show you?” she said softly. Your breath caught and she smiled, just a little, her voice barely above a whisper. “Let me take you out. A proper date. No pressure, just so it feels like it’s supposed to.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “You mean it?”

She leaned in, her forehead resting gently against yours. “Every word.”

You let out a small, breathless laugh, eyes fluttering closed as you leaned into her touch. “Okay,” you whispered. “I’d really like that.” And there, with her arms still around you and the quiet promise of something new blooming between you, the weight you’d been carrying began to lift—just enough to let a little light in.

#fanfiction #fanfic #natasha romanoff #marvel #marvel fic #natasha romanoff x reader #nat x reader #natasha x reader

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existence-is-a-pain87 · 2 months ago

Note

Ohhh, has anyone requested for Shelly or Vee yet? I love playing as them, haha, Shelly will always be my favorite though! It makes me feel comforted since I relate to her so painfully much. I would love to talk with her about dinosaurs or just spend time with her, just anything hhhh!!

Please make sure to take your time writing these requests! It can be draining so please take breaks and take care of yourself! You can also deny this if you want. I love your work so much! <3 It's a fun idea to imagine the characters hearing us! Especially when we start to tweak out or even silently yell at our screen or anything like that I know I do that too much hahaha-

Actually I've been hoping to write for Shelly and Vee! This is gonna be a drabble that's a fair bit different from the other drabbles I made so far, hehe.

Also, again, sorry if your request is taking awhile! I have a ton in my inbox and more keep coming in. Don't worry if you don't wanna send in a request now! I love getting requests and I can't wait to fufill them all!

Hehe. <3

Game Show of Love

Yandere!Self-Aware!Shelly x Reader; Yandere!Self-Aware!Vee x Reader; Yandere!Self-Aware!Dandy's World x Reader

Warnings: Obsession and other general yandere behaviors, swearing, fighting (over you <3)

--☆☆☆☆☆--

When Shelly learnt she was your second favorite, she was happy.

But a good bit disappointed. What do you mean 'second favorite'?

Didn't you love dinosaurs? So why wasn't she your first favorite? Why was it Glisten?

Would her only being number 2 in your heart mean you would forget her too? Just like how everyone else did?

So she did what she could to figure out how to talk to you. To ask you if you would ever forget her.

And to ask what your favorite dinosaur is, hehe.

So she began searching. At first she thought she could use the Roblox chat...

But after what happened last time they tried that... yeah, no.

So she went elsewhere.

And then she found your phone number.

And she wanted to try it. So she went searching and found someone else, someone they couldn't hear, who rarely used their phone. Especially not for texting.

Then she tried to contact you.

(xxx) xxx - xxxx: Hello?

You: Who is this

Shelly panicked. What if you blocked her? She saw blocked numbers on this phone, mostly scammers... oh no! What if you thought she was a scammer?!

(xxx) xxx - xxxx: It's complicated.

You: Wdym

Shelly hesitated. Should she explain everything? Would you believe her? Should she just ask the question she was dying to ask??

...

Shelly shook her head and decided to try something.

(xxx) xxx - xxxx: I'm someone who's going through a bunch of different phone numbers to try to find someone I can talk about dinosaurs to.

She thought for a moment and quickly sent another message.

(xxx) xxx - xxxx: I'm not a scammer, I swear!

You: Isnt there better ways to yap to people about dinosaurs?

You: Like on tumblr or smth?

Shelly panicked, terrified you may block her.

(xxx) xxx - xxxx: I mean I could. But on here there's no ads and stuff.

You: Dont people think your a scammer tho

(xxx) xxx - xxxx: Sometimes they do. Then they just block me. But I just want to talk about dinosaurs!

You: Send me a dinosaur fact.

Shelly's breath hitched.

(xxx) xxx - xxxx: Wait, really?

You: Ye

You: I love dinos

You: Yap to me about them rn

You: Pls

Shelly almost squealed.

(xxx) xxx - xxxx: Of course!

You: Also what should I call ya?

(xxx) xxx - xxxx: My name's Shelly!

You: I'm [Name].

Shelly froze, staring at your name.

Your name... She was the first one to learn your real name.

You gave her your name.

She couldn't hide her thrilled grin. Even if no one else could see it.

--☆☆☆--

As Shelly texted you, Vee was busy figuring out information about you.

She ran a gameshow for crying out loud! Clearly, more Toons would be interested if she had some trivia about you thrown in there.

But then it spiraled into something more.

Gaining knowledge about you started off small. Things you mentioned in game. Such as your favorite Toons.

It annoyed her she wasn't one of your favorites.

Or the fact you owned a cat.

He seemed awfully clingy too. Oh, and she already knew his name is Blaze. Even if you called him 'Kitty' often.

But then she grew frustrated. You didn't mention enough about yourself when you were playing! How was she supposed to make trivia about you now?

So she began searching.

And figured out how to leave the game. Then how to leave Roblox on devices.

Specifically your device.

She didn't notice nor care that Shelly did it first.

No one noticed Shelly could leave because they never noticed she was gone.

Then Vee found the microphone function on your phone. Then she connected herself to it.

And suddenly...

She could hear it all.

She heard you talk, even when you weren't playing the game. If you had your phone on you, she could hear.

That's when her spiral truly started to occur.

Just like with Astro, she grew a soft spot for you.

She learnt of everything. From your favorite food to your primary mode of transportation.

And she saved every fact she learned about you to her database. In the span of a month at most, she probably knew you better than you knew yourself.

And it wasn't just the microphone she used for information. She went through your photos, your search history. Meticulously finding any bit of info she could gather.

Unfortunately, though, she couldn't use the camera. Since she could only risk searching around your phone for information when you weren't on it, she was never able to turn on your camera and look at you.

This fact frustrated her to no end, but she had to deal with it.

She kept searching through your phone, one day managing to find your text messages and started to go through them.

Hm? Who's this in your contacts? 'Shelly'? What a strange coincidence...

...and this Shelly spoke to you often about dinosaurs? Hm...

She'd need to keep an eye on this...

--☆☆☆--

Shelly was thrilled.

In a month she managed to become one of your best friends!

Of course she was living a lie, but she didn't care!

To you, she was your silly, dinosaur-loving online friend who you were able to share anything with!

And as time went on, she got more comfortable with you.

And got more and more in love...

She started taking more risks.

For example, she pretended to be a player of Dandy's World, talking about how funny it was she was so similar to the Shelly in game. At least personality-wise!

If only you knew...

Tisha knew of this.

She didn't mind.

In fact, sometimes she would even be able to talk with you when she wasn't busy.

And just like Shelly, Tisha kept the fact she could talk with you directly a secret. As well as keeping the fact she was a Toon private from you.

And eventually, she managed to get enough confidence to sort-of ask her question.

Shelly: Random question, but why are your favorite Toons your favorite?

You: You mean my top three?

Shelly: Yeah

You: Well... I like Glisten because he's a lot like me in a sense. I try to maintain stability and confidence even though I hate myself. And his Twisted form is a cutie pie that made me realize he needs all the hugs.

Shelly: But you're great tho!

You: So a lot of people say lol

You: I like Shelly since she deserves better, I too love dinosaurs, her design for both her toon form and her twisted form, and her lore makes her deserve all the hugs too.

You: And Shrimpy Boy is just a silly man lol

Shelly: Why's Shelly lower than Glisten?

You: I haven't told you yet?

You: mb

You: She's very slightly lower because I HATE the confusion debuff and I like Twisted Glisten's concept a lot. Otherwise the two are basically tied lol.

Shelly: So you utterly adore her?

You: Fully and completely!

Shelly squealed from glee.

You, her favorite person, loved her! The only reason she was lower than Glisten was because of some tiny things she couldn't really change. You thought she was basically perfect!

You loved her as much as she loved you!

Then Vee has to ruin it.

--☆☆☆--

"Shelly... what the f■■■?"

Vee stormed closer. One hand was balled into a fist. The other held her microphone so tightly that if she had blood, her hand would turn white.

"You've been talking with the player for over a month now? You could talk directly to her, and you didn't tell anyone?!"

Shelly gritted her teeth. "I did! I tried to tell you! None of you listened to me when I tried to talk! Not even you or Tisha!"

Vee's screen glitched, and never has she been more annoyed that- despite the fact she was a video game character and thus most of her lore wasn't really real, with her being a gameshow host only real because she went out of her way and did that the moment she figured out private servers- she had a censor over all swear words. Because she had a lot she would like to say.

The two stood opposing one another in Shelly's room, where Vee stormed in the moment she put all the pieces together.

She was by no means Rodger, but even the mystery of the Shelly in your contacts list wasn't too hard to solve.

And both were in their Twisted forms. So if this would become a physical fight, it would get messy very quickly.

"Can you blame me for giving up?" Shelly asks, "All basically ANY of you do is ignore me! The only one who doesn't is Tisha! And half the time you forget I exist! Anyways, YOU also told no one about the fact you figured out how to leave the game too! That YOU figured out so much of your information about them by violating their privacy!"

"What I did is different from what you did." Vee curtly replies, standing tall. "You were contacting them directly. Playing a lie the entire time."

"At least I wasn't going through private photos and search history." Shelly growls back, "Do you know how humans can be embarrassed by people looking through those things? Or do you ignore what privacy is just like how you ignore me? At least until you need something from me, you BITCH."

Vee scowls, slightly startled at Shelly swearing for the first time since... practically ever.

"This is why they don't like you." Shelly continues, "I'm one of their favorites. ME. Not you. So stop violating [Name]'s privacy and stop caring about the fact I talk to them."

"...say that again." Vee orders suddenly, screen glitching for a moment as she processed what Shelly said in the blink of an eye. "That word... [Name]."

"That's their name." Shelly says. "They told me it. Directly. Because I didn't violate them as much as you did!"

"I am not violating them." Vee retorts, processing your name. One of the few pieces of information she knew, but reeled from hearing come out of the mouth of someone who was speaking to her for the first time. "But now ...I have an idea."

"What is it now?" Shelly asks, pissed.

"...It involves you directly," Vee says, "How would you like to practically guarantee yourself a prize in one of my gameshows? The grand prize."

Shelly just stares at Vee, raising an eyebrow slighty.

"And the grand prize..." Vee says, suddenly smirking, "Is [Name]'s love."

--☆☆☆--

The grand prize being offered brought every Toon to the gameshow.

Not everyone was participating. Many were simply in the audience, due to the extra promise of a special prize given to any Toon who was simply there.

The gameshow was split into a tournament. Two toons would compete to move onto the next catagory, and the final two would compete for the grand prize.

Practically everyone was a little stunned when Shelly was a contestant.

Especially when Shelly started to crush anyone who went against her in the trivia.

And they were even more stunned when Vee started asking trivia questions they had no idea how she found out. Even Rodger didn't know this much information, and he was carefully documenting every bit of information he heard you mention when playing. Or others talking to you that they mentioned when playing.

And when people were eliminated? They were a good bit annoyed at losing the opportunity for your heart, but stayed for the special prize.

Eventually it just got to Dandy and Shelly. And Shelly won.

Shelly won by saying your name.

They all loved your name.

Dandy barely held himself toegther when Vee declared the winner to be Shelly. But he stayed. Especially when Vee stood on top of the podium, grinning.

Even if the two hated eachother, Dandy wanted that secret prize.

"Well, now that that's wrapped up." Vee says, twirling her mic, "I know all of you want the secret prize, yes? Even though Shelly has all the right to our beloved player's heart, that doesn't mean you all will just forget about them, mhm?"

"Just get to the point..." Dandy mutters, gritting his teeth.

Vee smirks. "Well, what if I told you that all of you could talk to them? Directly to them. No more little incidents due to the chat, but to them."

Everyone froze, staring up at the gameshow host. It was more silent than when everyone learned your name.

Your name was beautiful.

Your voice was beautiful.

They all loved you.

They all loved your voice.

"Now, all contestants and audience members of this Gameshow of Love, would you all like to learn what a phone number is?

#endri yaps #yandere dandys world x reader #yandere dandy's world #yandere dandys world #dandys world x reader #dandys world #dandy's world x reader #dandy's world #self aware dandys world #self aware dandy's world #shelly dandys world #vee dandys world #shelly x reader #vee x reader #yandere shelly x reader #yandere vee x reader #yandere shelly #yandere vee

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elixirfromthestars · 5 months ago

Text

WELCOME TO MY CINEMA! ˙✧˖°🎥 ༘ ⋆｡🎞️˚

As you all know, last August I opened a cafe (a.k.a. my cafe themed writing challenge). The response to that was so wonderful and I adored hosting it and reading every single one of your entries, and I'm thinking it's time I host a new one! ♡

This time I decided to rent out a private theater for all of us to sit and have a movie marathon! This writing challenge starts today and closes on March 30th! I will be traveling the last week of March and it would be the perfect time for me to catch up on reading all the entries (since I read & reblog every fic submitted). The masterlist of all entries will be posted sometime in the following days of me returning from my travels! (Just like my last writing challenge, if you see this anytime later or can’t make the deadline do not fret, if anything below inspires you, you are welcome to write and tag me so I can read it and add your submission to the masterlist♡)

Below are the rules, prompts, and guidelines ♡

who you can write for: all marvel characters are welcome / any fictional sebastian stan or chris evans characters are welcome too (any characters they’ve portrayed based on real life people will not be accepted though!!) I will be expanding this from my last challenge and accepting submissions for characters from Top Gun Maverick & Twisters 2024. (please keep it to x reader fics only!!)

some general guidelines: Below I’ve provided a number of different scenes, quotes, and songs for inspiration ♡ Anyone can use as many as they'd like and even mix and match however you’d like!! If you use any please let me know somewhere in the post! If nothing below inspires you, you can always submit something with inspiration from a scene/dialogue exchange from another movie or tv show, just please let us know where the inspiration came from!! :) here's the catch though -> the scene/dialogue exchange has to come from another movie or tv show that is not from the one the character is originally from. For example, if you write for Bucky Barnes, the scene/dialogue exchange has to come from another movie or tv show that is not from Marvel. 18+ fics are welcome, just please add warnings! Entries are not limited, you are welcome to submit as many entries as you'd like! Any length of fics are welcome, but if it’s over 500 words please add the “keep reading” option. If you write something as part of a bigger series, please write your submission as a standalone ♡

what is not accepted: no dark fics, anything involving minors, incest, rape, noncon/dubcon... (You can always message/inbox me to ask questions.)

how to enter: please tag me and use #elixirscinema when you post ♡ i’ll leave a like (from my main blog @saturnsflowers) to let you know I saw it and reblog it to this blog once I read it :) I love reading and leaving comments on all submissions, so please be patient with me if I don't get to yours right away! also, let me know if I haven’t interacted with your post after a few days in case I missed it! You can send me a reminder through my inbox or dm, thank you! ♡♡♡

Happy writing! My inbox is always open for any questions or comments!! ♡

These trailers are all so exciting! Did any of them pique your interest?

˙✧˖°🎥 ༘ ⋆｡🎞️˚ For scenes, you can use any of the ones below or use one or more from any movie/tv show you'd like! You can use the dialogue, the themes, the moments, the dynamic, etc of the scene to inspire your writing. It doesn't necessarily have to be word for word or match the scene exactly nor entirely, it just has to inspire you in some way! Below I have different scenes linked for inspiration, but again you are free to use any scene(s) from anywhere else to inspire you!! ♡

📖 ...✩ Why didn't you write me? — The Notebook

🦊 ...✩ "I love you." / "It'll pass." — Fleabag S2

⛲️ ...✩ I loathe you... — The Princess Diaries 2

🩺 ...✩ Are you telling me you love me? — The Artful Dodger

🐎 ...✩ You're the bane of my existence... — Bridgerton S2

🗡 ...✩ That's not how you hold a dagger. — My Lady Jane

🗞 ...✩ You can’t lose something you never had. — How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days

🪶 ...✩ I burn for you... - Bridgerton S1

🖊 ...✩ You are my exception. — He’s Just Not That Into You

👒 ...✩ Don't marry him. — Little Women

🏹 ...✩ I do... I need you. — The Hunger Games: Catching Fire

🌊 ...✩ I thought that we loved each other... — The Summer I Turned Pretty S2

🪵 ...✩ There is no one like you... — To All The Boys I've Loved Before

🚢 ...✩ You jump I jump, remember? — Titanic

🪩 ...✩ Doesn't what I said mean anything to you? — When Harry Met Sally

🎸 ...✩ You were paid to take me out? — 10 Things I Hate About You

🫧 ...✩ You're looking way too hot right now... — Love, Rosie

🐚 ...✩ Are you engaged to that beautiful woman? — Mamma Mia Here We Go Again

💌 ...✩ Break my heart into a thousand pieces... — To All The Boys: P.S. I Still Love You

🏛...✩ I am never going to be over you. — Scandal

🥂...✩ Oh, now I remember why I had such a crush on you… — Something Borrowed

🚑 ...✩ I'll tell you what you are to me... Criminal Minds S4

💋 ...✩ Do you really hate me? — The Hating Game

🌀 ...✩ It's okay, I've got you now... — Maxton Hall

I’m going to get some snacks before the marathon starts. Do you want anything? Here’s the menu:

🍫 ✩｡⋆⸜ "They warned me about you, I should have listened."

🥨 ✩｡⋆⸜ "No. No, stop. Stop talking like that. You're going to be fine."

🍪 ✩｡⋆⸜ "Of course I came for you. It would take far much more than that to stop me."

🍟 ✩｡⋆⸜ Realizing they're in love.

🍭 ✩｡⋆⸜ "It was just a kiss. It changed nothing between us."

🧋✩｡⋆⸜ "We're not just friends and you fucking know it."

🥤✩｡⋆⸜ "I have loved you from the moment I laid my eyes on you."

🍬 ✩｡⋆⸜ "Are you flirting with me?" — "You finally noticed?"

🍿 ✩｡⋆⸜ "Just stay. We can figure everything else out later. Right now, just stay."

🍦✩｡⋆⸜ "If there's really nothing going on between the two of you, you don't mind if I ask ___ out on a date, do you?"

🍕✩｡⋆⸜ "I cannot stand you, and yet, I also cannot stand to be away from you."

🍗 ✩｡⋆⸜ "Wait a minute. Are you jealous?"

🥪 ✩｡⋆⸜ "Do I need to remind you that we're not actually married?"

🍩 ✩｡⋆⸜ "If you don't love me, prove it then. Prove to me you've never felt something towards me. Look at me."

🌭 ✩｡⋆⸜ "You kissed me last night." — "And you didn't stop me."

🍔 ✩｡⋆⸜ "What if I told you I've been in love with you since we were kids?"

🥗 ✩｡⋆⸜ "Is this what you wanted, huh? Making me fall in love with you just—just to fucking leave? Do you really expect me to be okay with that?"

🌯 ✩｡⋆⸜ "I love you." — "You shouldn't."

🧁✩｡⋆⸜ "If you leave now, you lose everything. You lose me."

🧃✩｡⋆⸜ "I think we need to talk."

🍧 ✩｡⋆⸜ “I don’t owe you an explanation.”

🍰 ✩｡⋆⸜ “Kiss me.”

🍨 ✩｡⋆⸜ “It's storming, why are you here?"

Let's check out the songs on these soundtracks. Do you like any of them?

˙✧˖°🎥 ༘ ⋆｡🎞️˚ Feel free to use the lyrics below, the entire feel of the song, or any other lyrics in the song! The playlist is below in case you want to go through and listen to the songs while you write ♡

Black and White "Now, we're sittin' here in your livin' room. Tellin' stories while we share a drink or two, and there's a vision I've been holdin' in my mind. We're 65 and you ask when did I first know? I always knew." — Niall Horan

Cinema "Do you think I'm cool too? Or am I too into you? Tell me what you want and you got it, love. I want all of you, gimme all you got." — Harry Styles

Death Wish Love "And I'll ask the stars at night, how I can slow the time. God, I'm so terrified that I'm gonna lose you. And I'll die if I do." — Benson Boone

Exile "I think I've seen this film before, and I didn't like the ending. You're not my homeland anymore, so what am I defending now? You were my town. Now I'm in exile, seein' you out." — Taylor Swift

Happier Than Ever "And I don't talk shit about you on the internet. Never told anyone anything bad. 'Cause that shit's embarrassing, you were my everything, and all that you did was make me fucking sad. So don't waste the time I don't have, and don't try to make me feel bad." — Billie Eilish

Hold My Hand "Pull me close, wrap me in your aching arms. I see that you're hurtin', why'd you take so long to tell me you need me? I see that you're bleeding, you don't need to show me again. But if you decide to, I'll ride in this life with you. I won't let go 'til the end." — Lady Gaga

I Like Me Better "I like me better when I'm with you. I don't know what it is, but I got that feeling. Wakin' up in this bed next to you. Swear the room, yeah, got no ceiling. If we lay, let the day just pass us by. I might get to too much talking. I might have to tell you somethin'" — Lauv

Iris "And I'd give up forever to touch you, 'cause I know that you feel me somehow. You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be, and I don't wanna go home right now." — The Goo Goo Dolls

John Hughes Movie "Maybe if I'd reined it in, you wouldn't wanna kiss somebody else. And you don't owe me anything, so I'm just gonna walk home by myself. And it's not like I've been crying, no. There's just smoke in my eyes." — Maisie Peters

Love Again "Show me that heaven's right here, baby. Touch me so I know I'm not crazy. Never have I ever met somebody like you. Used to be afraid of love and what it might do, but goddamn, you got me in love again." — Dua Lipa

Love The Hell Out Of You "I'm gonna love the hell out of you. Take all the pain that you're going through. I'll bring you heaven if that's what you need. 'Cause you've always loved the hell out of me." — Lewis Capaldi

McKay & Cassie "Console me, don't let me go, baby. Ain't nobody gonna hurt you, so feed me with those pretty lies. 'Cause there ain't no escaping those ocean eyes. Oh, baby, I'll kill anybody that hurt you." — Labrinth

Movies "In my head, we're dancing in the dark. In my head, we kiss under the stars, but we know that's not what we're doing. 'Cause, baby, this ain't like the movies... I want a love like the movies." — Conan Gray

My Tears Ricochet "I didn't have it in myself to go with grace. And you're the hero flying around, saving face. And if I'm dead to you, why are you at the wake? Cursing my name, wishing I stayed. Look at how my tears ricochet." — Taylor Swift

Slow Motion "Dreaming 'bout you sinkin' into my bed. Dizzy, I see stars all around my head. Liftin' me up to the moon and back again. You're my lucky penny, yeah, you just make sense. I like to keep my cool, but you're divine. Mother Nature must've taken her time. Come on, take me away, I'll let you drive." — Alessia Cara

So Hot You're Hurting My Feelings "And I'm out at a party, they're playin' our song. I cry on the dance floor, it's so embarrassing. Don't send me photos, you're makin' it worse. 'Cause you're so hot, it's hurtin' my feelings. I get a little lonely. Get a little more close to me. You're the only one who knows me, babe." — Caroline Polachek

The Way I Loved You "I miss screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain. It's 2 a.m. and I'm cursing your name. I'm so in love that I acted insane and that's the way I loved you. Breaking down and coming undone, it's a roller coaster kind of rush. And I never knew I could feel that much and that's the way I loved you." — Taylor Swift

Unsaid Emily "If I could take us back, if I could just do that. And write in every empty space the words "I love you" in replace. Then maybe time would not erase me. If you could only know, I never let you go. And the words I most regret are the ones I never meant to leave unsaid..." — Julie and the Phantoms

You Could Start A Cult "Lately, what I know of reality. I let go of it happily when I look in your eyes. Mm, swear it's true. No mountain that I wouldn't move or sea I wouldn't part in two. To wake up by your side is all I wanna do." — Niall Horan & Lizzy McAlpine

1 Step Forward, 3 Steps Back "It's one step forward and three steps back. I'm the love of your life until I make you mad. It's always one step forward and three steps back. Do you love me, want me, hate me? Boy, I don't understand." — Olivia Rodrigo

playlist for the songs above can be found here: 🎞️✮⋆˙

to my lovely mutuals, please don’t feel pressured to participate or share, just thought I’d share this with you all ♡

@elvenrin @marvelstoriesepic @humanwip @flowersforbucky @whatever-lmaoo @nickfowlerrr @buck-star @navybrat817 @mercurial-chuckles @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @neverthatsirius-jo @perdidosbucky-yyo @nicoline1998enilocin @mostly-marvel-musings @vintagebuckybarnes @barnesafterglow @nekoannie-chan @stellar-solar-flare @fvckingavengers @thevillainswhore @drabblesandsnippets @amathslutsguidetofandom @multiversefanfics @thereoncewasagirlnamedjane @malum-forev @nameless-ken @writing-for-marvel

I am new to the Top Gun Maverick & Twisters fanfic communities, (I've only just recently started writing for some characters), so I will be tagging some writers whose work I have in my to be read 🥺♡♡ To those who I've tagged, please feel free to ignore and don't feel pressured at all to share!! I just thought I'd reach out to a few writers in those communities, since I mainly have only marvel mutuals/followers ♡♡

@rootedinrevisions @arcane-vagabond @sunlightmurdock @ohtobeleah @roosterforme @sehnsuchts-trunken @sunnysidevans @fireinmoonshot @rosie-read-that @seresinhangmanjake @mickandmusings @bloatedandalone04

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sixeyesanddaydreaming · 2 months ago

Text

"My ex messaged me."

"You don't say?"

Satoru sounded far too amused for your liking when you told him about the unread message in your inbox. He didn't move an inch from his video game even as you approached him on your couch, though he was quick to encircle you in his arms when you were in his periphery.

"What do you think it's about? Him messaging out of the blue is so weird," you asked him, resting your cheek on his head as you watched him gun down the enemies charging right at him. "It's been—"

"Five years," he cuts you off, eventually pausing his game and placing down his controller. "Did you see what he had to say?"

You shook your head and fished out your mobile phone from your pocket, showing him the still-unread message. "I dunno. And at this point, I don't really care to know, either."

Satoru coiled his strong arm around your waist as you sat on his lap, his other hand tapping on the screen of your phone to read the walls of text sent to you— an explanation you surely would have appreciated when you were still asking questions— why? What did I do wrong?

Questions he had no answers to himself... But why bother thinking about all of that when he had his chance with you right then and there? He was better off making you forget all about those...

"Wh— Why'd you open his text?!"

"Why not? I'd be lying if I said I wasn't curious about what he has to say," he innocently shrugged at you. "Now let me see..."

He scrolled through the paragraphs, a growing grin on his face that slowly melted into low laughter as he handed back your phone to you. "He wants to get back together with you."

"What? And why are you even laughing?"

"What do you mean? I'm laughing because I truly think it's funny," he said as he rested his chin on your shoulder, watching you skim through the meaningless paragraphs. "He's definitely reaching."

"Oh, so you aren't the least bit bothered by this? This is my ex we're talking about," you asked him with a small pout, to which he replied with a fat, affectionate kiss on your cheek.

"Oh, please! Our friends hate your dumb ex with a burning vengeance. And rightfully so after what he did to you," he laughed at how slightly hurt you were by his nonchalance, but he wasn't like that because he didn't care. A rather smug smile made its way to his handsome face. "If you had wanted to get back together with him, we wouldn't even be having this conversation. But of course you'd never get back with him. He's a dick, after all."

Satoru was like that because he was confident. Confident in himself and confident in the love you have for him.

The way he rested his starry blue eyes on you— a look of absolute adoration— filled you with just as much confidence. He loves you just as much. So much that there's no room for any doubt.

"Well, as always, you're right. I'd be a fool to jump back into some asshole's arms when I'm already so, so happy..." You chuckled as he playfully batted his feathery eyelashes at you. "I wouldn't trade what we have now for anything else. Especially not a do-over with a loser."

Satoru's deep, mirthful laughter reverberated against your back. You didn't need to see his face to know just how elated he looked. "My thoughts exactly. See? It's like we share the same brain!"

#mari writes 🍡#mari's daydreaming ☁️#gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #inspired by the fact that my ex messaged me the other day and my fiancé just laughed at his walls of text #starry divider by @/cafekitsune

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joonjuul · 5 months ago

Text

workplace. pjm

pairing: ceo!jimin x assistant!reader

wc: 4.6k

warnings: dom!jimin, mean!jimin, virgin!reader, noncon, coercion, light fingering (f receiving), light blood, crying, desk sex, jimin is a complete asshole

a/n: this is barely edited so good luck (ps thank you for all the love on my last fic! reqs are open id love to write some stuff yall wanna read :3

╋━

you feel your fingers begin to cramp as you finish sending what feels like your 100th email of the day. staring at the computer screen as your eyes blur from sensitivity.

you can’t help the sigh that escapes your lips as you allow your face to fall into your hands. it was the busiest time of the year at your company, and you were struggling to keep up with all the side jobs your boss was giving you. it felt like every two seconds there was a new request in your inbox, only piling on top of the ones you still had yet to accomplish.

park jimin was hard on you, that was evident. you understood what you were getting into when you accepted the job, but you never could’ve prepared yourself for how hard on you he really was. everyone told you to decline his position offer, but you were in no place to pass up work, especially not with the salary he was giving you. but now you were starting to regret your choices.

just as you thought you were beginning to regain your composure, you hear that familiar notification sound, pulling you away from your thoughts.

1 new message in your inbox.

what could he possibly want now? haven’t you done enough already? the day had barely started and you felt like you were already exhausted enough to go home.

you couldn’t help the rage that filled you, almost like your efforts to him meant nothing. he never praised you nor complimented you for your hard work to him and the company, only coldly filled your inbox with new things to be completed. you had had enough of this torturous cycle.

you took a deep breath as you stood before the office door. although it was shut, you could still feel his presence through the walls. he was so intimidating, you couldn’t believe you were actually going to stand up to him, but you couldn’t handle it anymore. you were his assistant, not his bitch.

you felt the cold metal pang against your knuckles as you melodically knocked on the door, waiting for a signal to enter.

“yes?”

his voice sent a shiver down your spine. he didn’t sound happy, but then again, he never sounded happy. always so distant, locked up in his office like a hermit. he should try doing your job for a day.

you felt your hand turn the knob unconsciously as the door swung open gently. his presence now unmistakable as he sat proudly at his desk. he wasn’t cocky, or egotistical, he was almost… emotionless, like a robot that had no feelings for anything except the success of his latest business endeavor.

you stood before him, feeling the cold air of his office brush against your bare thighs, suddenly aware of how short your skirt was. you felt out of place standing before him, you probably hadn’t spoken to him directly since the interview that had you hired months prior.

“can i help you?” his voice rang again, your heart only beating faster. did he even know your name?

“sorry to bother you, sir. i was just hoping i could speak to you about something really fast.” all confidence that you had earlier was now gone seeing him sat before you. it was almost as if you weren’t a human being to him, just a pawn to ensure his work runs smoothly.

he signaled to the chair in front of his desk, allowing you to sit, his eyes never wavering from his computer screen. what was so important that he couldn’t have a conversation with you like a normal human?

nonetheless, you felt your feet carry you to the chair before him, carefully sitting down and quickly crossing your legs as not to expose too much of your upper thighs. not that he would notice anyway.

you sat in silence for a moment, waiting for him to make eye contact with you or start the conversation, but he never did.

you clear your throat gently, trying to gain the strength to speak.

“well, sir. i feel like sometimes with this job, i know that it’s the busiest time of the year, and that i’m supposed to complete any assignment you give me, but sometimes it feels although, not that you do it on purpose but-“

“spit it out.” his words are harsh, cutting you off, but his eyes still haven’t acknowledged your presence.

you clear your throat again, feeling slightly worse knowing he probably doesn’t care much about what you have to say.

“i’m just feeling very overwhelmed with the amount of work you’ve been giving me lately, sir.” you didn’t want to come off strong or demanding, but you’re starting to lose your patience.

you watch as his typing stops, his eyes finally looking up at you but now you wish they never had. his gaze is intense, and not in a way that’s professional, but in a way that’s hurtful. he looks… mean.

“is this job too much for you, y/n?” his voice is calm, emotionless as his eyes stay fixated on yours trying to gauge your reaction.

you shake your head no quickly, realizing the position you’ve just put yourself in. you couldn’t lose this job.

“n-no sir. not at all. i just feel like-“

“because i can easily find someone who can handle the workload this position requires.” he cuts you off again, leaning back in his chair to look at you intensely.

you gulp, not really knowing how to respond.

“i-i can assure you sir im more than capable-“

“are you? because it doesn’t seem like it.” he crossed his hands on his lap as he speaks. how can he be so cold? it’s not like you were asking him to stop giving you work. you just needed at least some more time in between assignments.

“i’m sorry, sir that was never my intention.” your gaze falls down to your lap, feeling so small, like nothing you say matters.

you hear him begin to move from his chair as he stands up and approaches you. his eyes watching you carefully, scanning from your face, to your collarbones, all the way down to your legs and back. he smirks slightly, the first time you think you’ve seen him display a tinge of emotion as he moves to where he’s standing behind you, gently placing a hand on your shoulder.

“you’re a good employee, y/n”

you’re shocked at his words. “i-i am?”

you look up from your lap and turn your head to see him standing behind you, a small smile on his face as he nods his head reassuringly.

“absolutely. best assistant i’ve ever had.”

you feel your cheeks heat up. he’s never praised or complimented your work before. it almost feels like a major accomplishment in your career.

“well thank you, sir.” you smile up at him, but watch as his disappears. his face now just as cold as it was when you first walked in the door.

“is that what you wanted to hear? you wanted me to tell you you’re doing a good job?” he begins to move his position so he’s standing in front of you, leaning against the desk as he watches your face change in confusion.

“i mean, it’s nice to hear every once and a while.”

“well i’m not nice, y/n.” your ears begin to ring at his words, now becoming more and more anxious in his presence. why was he being like this?

“i’m sorry, sir i don’t understand-“

“you’re here to do a job, y/n. i give you assignments, and you complete them. is that too much for your little brain to handle?” his words are like knives as you feel your eyes begin to water slightly as his voice raises in volume. he wasn’t yelling, he was still calm, however obviously frustrated with you.

you sit in silence, your gaze returning to your lap as you feel too cowardly to even respond.

“nothing to say now, hmm?” he says again coldly, almost mocking your state. you continue to look in your lap, avoiding his intense stare at all costs.

you feel your heart drop as he reaches a hand out to your chin, gripping it slightly to look up at him.

“you want to please me, don’t you y/n?” his eyes are glaring at you, his words harsh and his face emotionless as he awaits for your response.

“y-yes sir.” you clench your thighs together at his words, afraid he might be able to see too much of you from the close proximity. he looks down at your legs, noticing the slight movement and smirks as his eyes return back to yours.

“now you can either please me, or i’ll find someone else that can.” his fingers begin to grip on your chin tighter, almost until it becomes painful.

you look up at him confused, not sure what he means. “i’m sorry sir, i’m not understanding.”

he releases his grip on your chin, rolling his eyes as he leans down, his hand now grazing your inner thigh. you feel your stomach drop as you realize now what he was implying. you had no intention of sleeping with park jimin, he was your boss, and as much as you could appreciate his attractiveness, you were a modest girl, and held your virginity very close to your heart. you promised yourself as a young girl that you would prioritize yourself and respect not only your body but your future husband.

“do you want to keep your job, y/n?” you feel goosebumps arise on your skin as his fingers begin to trail up higher and higher. you hate the way your body’s reacting, and internally scold yourself for being so sensitive to touch, having not received much of it in your life thus far.

you gain as much confidence as you possibly can as you look up at him, his eyes dark and taunting.

“i hope you’re not implying what i think you’re implying, sir.” your voice comes out shakier than you had anticipated, and you watch as your boss only chuckles lowly in response.

“i guess that depends on whether or not you want to keep your job, sweetheart.” he pulls his hand away from your thigh and returns to his original position behind his desk. sitting down cockily as he begins to pick up where he left off on his computer.

you’re shocked at his behavior. you never would’ve imagined that a man as professional as him would create such an uncomfortable work environment for a young girl like you just setting out on her career.

if you thought you had felt rage earlier, you were wrong. you sprung up from your seat and stormed behind his desk. “you can’t do this.”

he stops his typing and turns in his chair to face you, a sly grin plastered across his face.

“of course i can, sweetheart. i own the company.”

you feel defeated. how is it that you ended up in this position? all you wanted was a break from all the work he piles on top of you. you were only one person, and now he was treating you like you were nothing more than an office slut to be used by him whenever he felt like it. you were not about to let that slide.

“you don’t deserve to run a company if you’re going to do so by using fear.” you felt the words leave your mouth before you even had a chance to process them. watching as his sly grin turned into a cocky smile. he sat up in his chair just enough so he was able to reach out and wrap a hand around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

you feel your breath hitch in your throat at the sudden contact, and watch as his hand that was once around your waist slides down to the inside of your thigh once more.

“sweetheart, fear is how you get things done.” he looks up at you tauntingly as he brings his hand higher and higher up your thigh, only inches away from your most sacred area.

you feel your legs begin to tremble slightly, both in fear and sensitivity. you hate how your body was reacting to his touch, but you couldn’t help it. you didn’t want to have sex with him but after being celibate your whole life, your body had a mind of its own.

“stop touching me.” your voice is breathy and unstable, only spurring him on more.

he brings his hand up even higher between your legs, gently grazing against your clothed core. “should i? i mean it looks like you’re enjoying it. you don’t have to fake it, y/n, we both know you want this.” you freeze up as you feel his finger move towards the side of your underwear, pushing the seam to the side as he begins to push a finger towards your sopping hole.

you quickly snap yourself back to reality and push his hand away. you hated being pushed around, and you weren’t about to let him get away with it.

“i said stop.” you watch as the smile drops from his face completely, leaving behind something that’s not cold or emotionless like before, but mad.

you’re barely able to catch your breath before he’s wrapping an arm around your waist and bending you over his desk in one fell swoop.

your heart stops for a moment, realizing now what you’ve done. he wasn’t asking you for permission, he was telling you, and now he was going to take it whether you liked it or not. you feel your heart fall deeper into your stomach, your body doing anything it can to wriggle out of his hold but it’s no use. he has you pinned against his desk, and there’s no denying how much stronger he was than you.

you feel your eyes start to well up as he brings his hands up your skirt, quickly tearing off your underwear and ignoring your gentle pleas.

“i gave you a choice, y/n. you did this to yourself.” his words induce a panic in you that you’ve never felt before, his presence behind you scaring you in ways that will stay for the rest of your life. you try to use your hands to push him away from you, but without being able to see him, you’re quickly overpowered as he gathers your hands with one of his own.

you feel a tear start to fall down your cheek as he brings a hand up to your cunt, your slick only pooling up more at his earlier ministrations.

“look at you, y/n. and you mean to tell me you don’t want this?” his voice is calm and collected as he begins prodding at your untouched hole. you curse yourself for even entering his office in the first place. you should’ve known better. but all you could do now was accept your fate.

you bury your head into his desk as he enters a finger into your throbbing cunt, your body only reacting more at the new unfamiliar sensation. you had touched yourself before sure, but never like this, and never by someone else. you feel your stomach flutter as one finger turns into two, stretching you out more than you even thought was possible.

“god you’re a tight little thing. i knew you would be when i first saw you. i’ve been waiting to see you bent over my desk like this. feels good, doesn’t it?” he whispers into your ear, and you can’t deny the tingling that you begin to feel in between your legs.

you don’t respond to him, and do everything you can to control the moans that are begging to fall from your mouth. you feel dirty, disgusting, everything you’ve held close to your heart is falling away, something you’ve been waiting for patiently is now being stolen from you, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.

he notices your lack of response and slowly removes his fingers from your dripping cunt, your juices now spread down your thighs as he looks down at your fingers and sees a tinge of red between them.

“that time of the month, huh?” he questions, reaching over your head to retrieve a tissue from off his desk.

you lay there, emotionless, only able to muster up a slight shake of your head as you feel another tear roll down your cheek.

he quirks an eyebrow, noting your reaction.

“well you’re bleeding, y/n.” he continues to wipe his fingers, seeing the red tinge transfer from his skin to the blank canvas, now stained with your juices.

“i’m a virgin.” you say coldly, your body tired from fighting and simply laying still on his desk.

jimin stops in his tracks for a moment before throwing the tissue into the trash can next to the desk. his eyes tracing your figure almost as if he doesn’t believe you.

“a virgin, huh?” he mutters under his breath, releasing your hands from behind your back only to duck beneath you so he’s eye level with your soaking cunt. he watches as your hole tightens and closes occasionally, feeling his pants get tighter at the thought of defiling you on his desk right there and now.

he brings his head back up from beneath you, and brings his hands to your waist, stroking it gently as he watches you flinch under his touch.

“i’m not sure if i believe you, sweetheart.” his touch is gentle, only making your stomach flutter more, you curse yourself silently for being so easily pleased.

“you don’t have to believe me, it’s the truth.” jimin admires the sight before him, how wet you were for him and only him, your body crumpling under his hold, all the dirty disgusting things he could do to you before you realize that he’s the only one that could ever make you feel this way.

he feels a pang of sympathy. although he always gets what he wants, that doesn’t mean he has to deny you of what you want at the same time, and although you might deny it, he knows you want nothing more than to feel what it’s like to give yourself up to someone completely.

he quickly places his hands on your waist, turning you around to face him but keeping you laid on the desk.

standing between your legs, he brings his hand back down to the inside of your thigh, running it up your leg gently and watching as you shake harder. out of fear or sensitivity, he couldn’t tell, but he carefully brings a single finger back up to your dripping cunt, running it along your folds and watching as you wiggle your bottom half slightly in response, your skirt only hiking up further around your waist.

he smirks to himself, knowing that deep down you’re a corrupted dirty slut who wants to be treated like this.

he begins to circle your clit, his touch light and sweet as you bite your lip to keep quiet. how could something so wrong feel so right?

your breathing is heavy as you feel a knot form in your stomach, your hips swaying in turn with his fingers to create more friction, and jimin just watches as the girl who was so keen on being a virgin is slowly starting to come undone from his touch alone.

“see that wasn’t too hard now, was it?” his words are taunting, devilish, but you couldn’t deny how they made you feel, how he made you feel.

you want to tell him to shut up, you want to push him away, but every muscle in your body is begging for him to keep going, begging to defile you and use you.

he watches as you quickly become a needy mess. slick dripping down his fingers as you ride them greedily, signaling you were close. virgins got close so quickly. your face contorting and your bitten lip stifling your moans, you didn’t have to tell him that the knot in your stomach was close to releasing, he could see it written all over your body.

but not until he quickly removes his fingers from between your legs, watching as your legs begin to shake harder now, but still, you stay silent, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing you were enjoying this.

“what? were you close, sweetheart?” he leans above you watching as the only response you can muster is a slight shake of the head, your cheeks burning up, hair sticking to your face.

“good. wouldn’t want to ruin the fun now would we?” his voice is so mean yet so sweet at the same time, as he brings his hands to his belt and begins to undo it slowly, watching as your eyes widen in nervousness.

you feel panicked, you knew it was going to happen eventually but like this? was it wrong that you wanted it? you watch carefully as he pulls his pants and boxers down in one fell swoop, his cock springing out between the two of you. he was so big.

how would he even fit? you heard it always hurts the first time but you never imagined a cock could look like that. your mind was racing with a million questions, and jimin ignored every last one of them, taking his position between you and aligning himself with your entrance.

“nervous?” he prods his cock at your hole gently, but doesn’t put it in, seemingly testing the waters as he looks up at you. if you didn’t know better you would’ve thought he looked concerned.

you shake your head no, still not able to formulate an audible response.

“good.” and with that final word he plunges into you deeply, giving you no time to adjust. you’re unable to contain the scream that leaves your throat as he bottoms out inside of you, your upper half flying forward towards him to seek any type of comfort, or even to find something to hold onto, but you’re only met with his hand on your chest pushing you back down on the desk.

he places a hand on your mouth, and uses his other to wrap your legs around his waist, leaning forward as he begins to thrust into you hard.

“shut up and take it, you did this to yourself.” his speed is unimaginable, you feel like you’re going to rip in half the pain is almost too much to bare. how could this be pleasurable for anyone? you feel a tear starting to roll down your cheek as he picks up the pace, his hand on your mouth being the only thing keeping you from screaming bloody murder.

jimin removes his hands from your leg and mouth and brings them down to your hips, pushing you down harder onto his cock as he begins rolling his hips into yours.

and then, something happens. you let out a moan. you feel it fall across your lips before you have time to stop yourself. something felt good. you look down between the two of you and watch as he rolls his hips into yours, his cock hitting something inside you deliciously with every single thrust.

“what? feel good all of a sudden?” he taunts, watching your confused expression as you try to figure out what it is your experiencing. what was this feeling? what was he hitting inside of you to make you feel like this? and all at the same time, you feel that knot building in your stomach again.

you let out a small moan, your hands reaching out to his hips to stabilize yourself, suddenly feeling overwhelmed.

jimin quickly notices your response and grins, quickening his pace and bringing one hand down to circle your clit gently.

“feels good, doesn’t it sweetheart?” his voice is dripping with sex, the tension in your abdomen only getting worse with his words. he begins to fuck you harder in response, rolling his hips deeper and deeper.

you moan again, suddenly gaining some of your confidence back. “yes, fuck. it does.”

jimin grins at your response, continuing his ministrations on your tiny clit as he watches you become a writhing mess beneath him. but he can only keep himself in control for so long. every part of him wants to tear at your skin and pull your hair, but something in him is going easy on you.

you feel yourself getting closer and closer to your release, moving your hips in response to his, matching his movements as best as you can, but you’re so close you barely know how to think.

“cum for me angel. show me how dirty you can be.” and with that, you’re seeing stars. it felt entirely different than when you did it yourself, something in you blacked out, you couldn’t hear or see, all you knew was that he felt better than you could’ve even imagined.

jimin watched as you creamed on his cock, your walls tightening around him and only spurring him on more, you were so tight now he could barely move, but he kept up his pace, maybe even harder than before as he watched you squirm under him.

“that’s right good girl.” the praises roll off his tongue as he glides a hand down your chest, watching your body shake and shiver under his touch. he could get used to seeing you like this.

you come down, feeling exhausted and warn out, watching as jimin’s pace quickens, his breathing harsh as grips onto your hips tighter, almost tight enough to leave bruises.

“fuck you feel so good.” he buries his head into your neck, biting and licking any piece of skin he can find as he feels himself getting closer to the edge. his hips never once stalling as he fucks you harder than he’s ever fucked anyone before.

you’ve never seen a man get like this, especially not jimin, he looked so human, so raw. his neck sticky, hair damp, face flushed and lips swollen from biting them. he looked… human.

you admire the sight before you as he takes one final plunge, filling you up with everything he has to offer. if you felt dirty before you weren’t prepared for the feeling of jimin pulling out of you, admiring his seed spill from your cunt, your walls throbbing from the overstimulation.

you both look at each other for a moment, unsure of what to say or what to do. all you knew now was that the workplace was going to be different.

jimin reaches over you to the tissues on the desk and begins cleaning you and himself up, the tension filling the room as you both awkwardly recover from your intense interaction.

it’s not until you stand up from his desk and lose your footing, forcing him to lean in and catch you, that you share a normal exchange for the first time all day.

“your legs are gonna be sore for a while.” he mutters, allowing you to stand on your own as you regain your composure.

“yeah among other things.” you say quietly, putting your underwear back on and fixing your skirt, you watch as jimin’s eyes dance once last time over your figure, before you clear your throats and find an excuse to get back to work.

“i should probably get going, i have a lot to get done.” you say quickly, fumbling towards the door.

“yeah.” jimin sits down again at his desk, now messy looking at the random patches of wetness scattered across his important documents and his computer almost falling off.

he looks up at you as you walk towards the door, legs still shaking slightly, and he grins to himself.

“y/n, i’ll give you a break with those assignments. take your lunch early today, okay?” his voice is gentle, making you turn around to face him before leaving the room completely.

“thanks.”

#jimin x reader #jimin au #bts jimin #bts smut #jimin smut #jimin scenarios

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