#🌹;; fluff

[skyrigel]

Simon would really be the type to get real flustered and all blushy blushy when you address or introduce him as your boyfriend/husband.

It was only later one evening at your favourite cafe which you gushed about all week, from pastry to scones and other sweet dessert, until you finally got him up to wear a plain black hood and only a lower face mask. He was raking over your figure while you stiffled your blush and scanned down the menu for the perfect thing that Simon absolutely would love to eat out, something apart from you. His joke, not yours.

“...yes, and tarte tatin for my boyfriend.”

You smiled and turned back to see a marvelous sight. Nothing. And nothing at all, the dirtiest and the softest and the most unhinged words you'd ever said to him could ever tinge up those cheeks so much flushed in colour. Astonished — you blinked. “What is it, si ?”

“Nuthin' love.” He shrugged, bringing his large hand over his face before you leaned forward and snatched his wrist with both hands. “What is it ? Are you...hey am i seeing you blushing ? Oh gawd you are —”

Simon shaked head, like he could shake away the high rise of rosy glow which tinted across the crinkle of his eye. His eyes so soft and bright in its flourish gleam.

“naw, nah...” He was. The nerves were grailed out in fine blue and green. Blood just under the pale skin, hot and needy.

You chuckled out softly, and it clicked like cuckoo clock at midnight. One sharp moment of it's glory. “My boyfriend..is my boyfriend blushing ? Huh.”

“oh fuck.” And if Simon thought he couldn't turn any more red, well there was always room for surprises.

Masterlist

[cherrynflowergarden]

disgusting(ly in love) || matt sturniolo

an; hiiii my loves how are y'all?? someone please give me some ideas for this i wanna make one for chris too:( this was originally supposed to be for 10 mins but i ran out of ideas and ended up making it 8 mins THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 400 FOLLOWERS I LOVE YOU ALL<33

summary; a youtube compilation of matt and yn being in love for 8 mins.

tagged; @t1llysblogs

matt was bored. and on youtube. having stumbled upon a video titled "MATT AND YN BEING DISGUSTING(LY IN LOVE)!!!??? tw happy couple (ew)" he decided he had nothing better to do than watch this.

clip one; sleeping beauties

the clip started with nick going down the stairs and screaming for matt. what he didn't know was yn, matt's girlfriend had stayed over.

expecting matt to be awake, he pushed the door open with his vlog camera on.

there laid matt and yn, all cuddled up on the bed. the blanket covered their tangled legs yet the way matt held his girl against his chest was enough to make everyone jealous of the couple. near them mr wrinkleton, matt's pug plushie and ms bubbles, yn's rabbit plushie cuddled too, almost making it look just like the couple in plushie forms.

a small laugh left nick, as he zoomed the camera into their faces.

clip two; twitch stream

matt was streaming on twitch with his brothers while his girlfriend went out on lunch with her friends.

coming back home, yn did not expect to hear shouts from each brother's room. assuming they were only playing video games with each other, she yelled "honeyyyyyy i'm homeeeeee" right as she entered in matt's room. not giving him any time to answer the girl skipped her way to her boyfriend and sat on his lap; all excited to tell him about the latest gossip session she had with her girls.

but that could wait for a while.

he looked so beautiful that she couldn't help but wrap her arms around his neck, giving a sweet kiss on his lips. pulling away she kissed his cheeks and mumbled "god you're so cute".

giggling softly, the boy pulled her face up and said "thank you baby" she was about to say something when chris screamed "OH MY VIRGIN EYES". laughing at the way her eyes got wide, matt explained "we're streaming baby"

clip three; birthday gift

sometimes yn vloged. since the triplets' birthday was coming soon, she decided to vlog the entire process of shopping for the brothers.

twelve minutes into the video, she was all set and ready with meaningful gifts for each brother. once she put all the gifts in separate bags for each brother, she smiled at the camera. "finally. it was such a tiring day. now only one thing is left to do. y'all remember the paints i brought? well we're doing a fun little craft." taking out the red and pink paints, she went to grab a plain black tshirt.

cutting a heart stencil out of a paper, she stuck the paper to the tshirt's back. applying the fabric paint on her lips she started kissing the cloth between the cutout paper heart. applying different shades of pink and red, she filled kisses in the shape of a heart. laughing at her now smudged 'lipstick' she showed the camera her now ready gift.

"gonna let it dry now. i think i will maybe do something in the front also. not sure. will keep you guys updated!!"

safe to say, matt loved his gift so much that he demanded another kiss tshirt so that he could wear her kisses every day.

clip four; beach

this was a short clip from the hawaii vlog. the triplets, yn, maddie and nate where walking to the beach near hotel. well not all of them were walking through.

yn decided she was too tired to walk today and matt being the absolute angel he is, let her to hop on his back as he carried the girl to the beach.

maddie had vlogged matt carrying his girl on his back, humming to whatever she had to say. the camera captured matt listening carefully to his girlfriend as she spoke animatedly about penguins. the last thing the camera captured was yn repeatedly kissing the boy's cheek as he smiled before chris pushed the couple claiming "it was sick to watch people in love"

clip five; beach again

this was a clip from the same vlog as the last. matt and yn were seen enjoying in the water. splashing water against eachother their joyous laughs could be heard.

suddenly matt lifted the girl up, enjoying her screams of fear. dropping her a little, matt laughed harder as his girl tightened her hold on his neck. "matt i swear to god if you throw me in the water" laughing at her empty threats, matt dropped her down a little.

"MATTEW STURNIOLO"

"but baby i love you" he said as he completely dropped her down.

clip six; deaf, mute and blind challenge

yn sometimes participated in the triplets' videos. right now she was a part of the deaf mute and blind challenge. nick and chris were deaf, matt was mute and she was blind.

it was tough to be blind when she was only one who could actually cook something but nothing goes according to her wish, right?

which brings us to this moment. yn, desperately trying to find the bowl which contained the pancake mixture. looking at his struggling girlfriend, matt came behind her and pulled the bowl towards them. putting the whisk in her hand, he grabbed her from behind and helped her whisk the ingredients together. mumbling a small thank you the girl was finally relieved as the process was almost over.

all while nick and chris danced and screamed to doja cat.

clip seven; grwm

yn was filming a get ready with me to go to a date. while she was putting the make up on, her boyfriend entered the room. saying a quick hi to him she turned back to explain her makeup process to her followers.

"—oh y'all need to try this mascara. it's sooooo good. i literally cried—" hugging the girl matt cut off her rant. he squeezed the girl in his arms as she turned around to place a kiss on his cheek. laughing at the bright red stain her lipstick left on his cheeks she tried to grab a tissue to wipe it off. protesting against it, the boy pulled her closer to him.

clip eight; dancing in the snow

the clip was from a random vlog yn posted. it started off with yn putting her vlog camera on the car's bonet and running towards matt. the two, fully covered in wools from head to toe danced in the snow without any music.

matt twirled his girl, a small laugh leaving him as the girl lost balance and collided with him, pushing the two to the ground.

it may seem silly to others, dancing without any music or laughing like madmen in the snow but to them this was the best moment of their life.

as the video ended, matt pouted at the screen. he now missed his girlfriend. he decided to facetime his girl not knowing chris was right behind him and he recorded matt smiling and blushing at moments with his girlfriend. probably this would end up in another compilation of matt and yn being in love.

[solifloris]

≡;-꒰ 𝐙𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I  𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒘𝒊𝒄𝒆

╰┈➤ ❝ zayne x afab!reader | VALENTINE'S EVENT !

tags : established relationship, light kisses, hurt/comfort, angst with fluff, reader has a bad day, kinda slight references to 'hidden motive', it's like if the "youtiful" series had no smut LMAO, use of pet names "love" "sweetheart". ((also... unedited... i finished this at like 2:30am... AHFNNSNF))

wc : 3k (haha......)

an : so i have. been on a bit of writer's block since i recovered from my sick week, but i did somehow get the urge to write something a little angsty… so this was actually the perfect request to work on and i had sm fun with this!! TYTYYY FOR REQUESTING @deepspacenova ILY <333 (also i know canonically valentine's day is azure's echo day but… for consistency we'll stick with valentine's :D)

taglist : under the cut! (SIGN UP HERE)

ko-fi jar / commissions

Valentine's Day wasn't supposed to go like this.

When you woke up, the space beside you was empty.

The curtains were drawn, and the room had been left relatively dark despite the little rays of sunshine peeking through. Comforting, in a sense, but—your hand reached out to run through the sheets beside you, now cold and devoid of the warmth of his presence. He'd left it like this on purpose; you knew that.

And it was quiet without him.

The kind of quiet that was loud, the kind of quiet that was uncomfortable.

Your eyes drifted towards the clock on the nightstand, and your heart sank at the realization—you'd slept in, and completely missed seeing him off. On Valentine's Day.

You'd both known from the start that he wouldn't be getting a day off despite the occasion, and you'd accepted it, but you had promised yourself to be present for him in the morning. What kind of girlfriend would let him leave just like that, right?

There was a note on the stand.

You reached out to grab it, and something about the emptiness in the bedroom made you feel so small. Even though you'd always been fond of the neutral colors surrounding you, they looked drearier and gloomier than they'd ever been. Your arms twitched with the urge to reach out for a hug—

There was no one there.

Good morning, sweetheart. Did you sleep well? I noticed you've been very tired lately, so please get some rest. Don't feel too bad that you didn't see me this morning. I'll be home in time for dinner, let me know when you wake up.

It was so sweet. So Zayne. Yet the heaviness in your heart didn't seem to lighten in the least, because the circumstances didn't change:

It was Valentine's Day. And you were spending it all alone.

In retrospect, you could never place the blame on your boyfriend. It had been this way from the start; you'd talked about it, accepted it, that with all of this came his busy schedules and the ever-present possibility that he would miss days like this without having much of a choice himself. You, yourself, weren't exempt to the setup, anyway—normally, your own work hours would have you out of the house in a similar manner. It was only that, this time… the mere prospect of having to spend a majority of the day alone with your thoughts had your skin crawling.

It had to be today.

It had to be now.

You could beg for a new work assignment to come in and save you from drowning, but you had been ordered to take a rest.

…Was this resting?

The air was stifling. You could breathe, but only barely.

You felt nailed to the bed, your head heavy, your body heavy, the tension in your shoulders nearly having you want to cry out if only you could muster a sound.

It had to be today.

It had to be now.

On Valentine's Day, the day of love. You would feel so pathetic, and needy, and so desperate to feel him next to you when you knew that it could not be so and you understood that this was simply the way things were. How they always have been. And it took every ounce of your energy to fight back the tears that were threatening to spill, because what kind of girlfriend would be like this, and why couldn't today be a day you felt normal?

You had to hastily wipe your tears with the sleeve of your sweater, and your hands reached for the phone next.

A simple good morning, a little how-are-you.

You would make yourself be normal today if you could help it.

So you did the only thing you could think of:

You redirected.

Pushing yourself out of bed was a task difficult enough to do, but you grit your teeth through it. Feet touched upon the soft carpet, footsteps padding across the room and towards the door. If you had the majority of the day to yourself, you could do something productive, couldn't you? You could still do that, couldn't you? You could still be the simplest, simplest form of a functioning human being… couldn't you?

A mantra repeated in your head as you made your way to the kitchen.

A list of things: you could clean, you could organize, you could read, you could play… You could cook something, maybe even bake, just so he could have some sort of surprise waiting when he got back.

It sounded like a good plan.

…

It was a difficult plan.

Deep breaths weren't enough to calm you down. Sure, every movement pulled you out of the rubble of your thoughts for a moment, allowed you to continue being for a moment. But a moment was merely a moment. And once that moment was over, then it was over. The wreckage dangling above your head would come crashing.

It was a terrifying, terrifying thing to be alone.

Every so often your eyes would drift towards your phone in hopes for a text; even a simple update, anything, anything—

You liked the quiet, but you liked it when he was around.

You liked the slowness of things, but you liked it when he was around.

On days like these, then only when all this empty space could be filled by the warmth of his presence… that was when everything else could be bearable.

And you stirred the cookie batter absentmindedly, only barely paying attention to what you were doing, when—

Ding!

Your heart jumped.

Immediately, you dropped the spatula back into bowl and turned towards your phone.

—heeeeyyyy, happy valentine's, bestieee!!! —hope you get to have a sweeeett, sweet time with your boyfie!

Ah.

Your racing heartbeat calmed down in slight disappointment; the last conversation you'd had with Zayne had been an hour ago, and you knew realistically enough not to expect another message so soon.

And, sure, you were disappointed, but… to Tara's defense, these texts still made you smile.

She sent a flurry more of messages; silly things, cute things, just a couple of somethings to leave in your chat log. You didn't know if she'd picked up on your own behavior being off at work, but you supposed that if Jenna had, then it was more likely that Tara hadn't overlooked it, either.

A thought rang suddenly in your mind, because you could spend the rest of your day with her. A glance at the time told you that it was only half past two in the afternoon, and you still had a couple of hours left before Zayne would be on his way home. If you were looking for a distraction, perhaps, a day out could have solved it, but—

Realization dawned.

You'd have to put on something pretty, spend a couple of minutes doing makeup. You'd have to speak with people, interact with them, seem normal to them… and then maybe, then, you'd be more conscious of the fact that you were blatantly masking in front of people you held close to your heart.

Vulnerability was a fickle thing.

Though you could desperately want to be so, it was difficult to know where to begin.

It was something to accept—you didn't have the energy to… be.

Not today.

Maybe Zayne was right; you did need to rest.

And the realization furthered in that really, truly, all that you wanted was to spend a moment curled up in his lap, maybe watch a movie, maybe sit in silence… Just enough to recharge, just enough to feel safe enough to be.

You wouldn't have had to think of anything else.

But, he wasn't… Here.

He wasn't here.

Hours passed by in a similar manner, then. A cycle of distracting yourself, and failing, and trying again, and failing… You had gotten a few things done, in your defense. The kitchen and the bedroom had both been cleaned spotless. Your newly-baked batch of chocolate-chip cookies sat to cool on the counter, a treat for your boyfriend, something to remind you of what day it was today. You were proud of yourself for it, of course; despite everything, you could still do a little something.

But the feeling in your chest, the heaviness of it, the burden you bore that you couldn't quite place, yourself… it was still there. Unmistakably, still there.

And then it was late.

Later than you knew his shift to be.

You glanced at your phone once, twice—thrice, and a few times more.

The message you'd sent had received no reply.

It must have been an emergency.

You understood; really, you understood. It was like this. He had no access to his phone when things were busy, and especially not when something had come up. You knew this. You knew.

And so you grabbed a blanket from the bedroom to drape over yourself, as you curled up on the couch.

You could wait.

You could.

You could.

…You could, right?

Surfing through channels proved easy enough.

Not that one.

Not that one.

No, not that one, either.

You huffed as each channel played a show that didn't particularly interest you, the sound of their dialogue merely causing you to be irritated rather than successfully distracted. You had little to no choice but to passively play on a show, lower the volume—and at this point, truly… it was difficult to take.

You curled up, drew your knees up to your chest.

The blanket smelled like him.

You could recall how often it had been like this; it had been busy at the hospital, as much as it had been busy at work… The two of you had barely any time to spend with each other these past few days, and undeniably it had started to take a toll on you.

Because it had to line up with the way that you'd been feeling.

Useless. Worthless. A little bit less like yourself.

Thoughts like these were easy to ignore when you had the capacity to, but you didn't anymore. Once again, the space around you was too big; too heavy; too much. It cemented on you all these feelings of helplessness, the way you were left in the middle of this cold, empty space with nothing to offer solace. It was pathetic to feel this way, you thought, but you no longer had the ability to rationalize it.

You didn't like it here without him.

You missed him—a feeling that had built up all these days spent away from each other.

And then the tears started to fall.

Silent tears, an occasional sniffle here and there… Your eyes glazed over as you continued to hug your knees to your chest, head resting upon them. You weren't focusing. The television remained what it was—white noise. You could barely remember what channel you had left it on in the first place.

Your phone lit up a couple of times.

You no longer noticed it.

—

A light shaking could be felt over your body.

It was a colder touch, you could feel it through even the blanket. Your eyes stirred open. Yet, truly, even before your gaze could focus enough on the figure next to you, you knew this touch.

Zayne.

He had his hand on your arm, having nudged you awake, and you could see the faint outline of a bouquet of flowers seated right next to him. Your favorites, no less.

In front of you, the television had been turned off, and a quick glance at your phone to the side showed several missed calls and texts from him. The time flashed as eight in the evening. You had fallen asleep. Your eyes were likely puffy, and you probably looked exhausted…

Yet, these things, despite how much you had noticed and despite how much you were still thinking—

They didn't matter anymore.

The moment of silence between you two, the way he didn't ask, the way he waited, the way he watched… A wave of understanding passed over the both of you before he pulled you into his arms, and that was it.

This was home.

It wasn't dark, and gloomy, and empty, and cold—

It was warm. Comforting. Full of his presence, just the way you had been longing it to be since you'd woken up. The smell of his cologne was one familiar enough to make you tighten your hold on him, make you snuggle deeper into his chest. It was secure. It was safe.

You'd missed him, truly.

And there was no need for words, not really. Instead, he stroked your hair, patiently, lovingly. A gentle kiss to the top of your head. A little reassuring squeeze of your hand.

"Zayne…"

"Mn. I'm here."

Another moment of stillness.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

You could still hear the faint ticking of the clock on the wall, but this time, it didn't bother you. Not when you could just as well hear the steady thrum of his heartbeat, not when his quiet words of reassurance could resound in your head like a lullaby.

And a stray tear fell.

Maybe, it was the relief of it. Maybe, it was how everything had bubbled up to crash into you like this.

But—

You lips trembled, and you cried.

You cried, and cried, and cried.

And it was such a stupid way to spend the day of love.

"You're… You're home, hic, I-I'm sorry, I didn't— hic— I fell asleep, a-and then—"

"Shh. It's okay, my love."

His voice was low. Soft.

"B-but I was… It's Valentine's Day, I should've…!"

"No, you do not owe me anything. On the contrary, I, too, have not been a satisfactory partner… I apologize, sweetheart. I wish I could have spent the day with you."

"It's… It's not your fault…"

"Then, it is not your fault, either."

He paused.

"You… feel unwell. You've been unwell. Haven't you? Aren't you?"

Slowly, gently, he coaxed your head up to look at him. His thumb raised, moving to wipe away your tears; to draw you closer by your chin and place a chaste kiss on the tip of your nose.

You sniffled slightly. "I… I didn't want to be needy… I know it's been busy at the hospital, and I thought I could manage, a-and I'm sorry, I know I should be more understanding! I-I should be better, be good, be someone who can give you the world like you deserve, be— something more worth of the comfort you give me, than this…"

The words flowed out before you could stop them, and, in the end, you appreciated that you could be vulnerable with him. But it still tore at your heart to have him listen. Because what if it was silly? What if it was stupid? In the back of your mind, even though you thought these things, you were hoping for him to tell you otherwise. And what would you do if he didn't? If he agreed with you? What if these words, these insecurities, would make him think less of you, or find it irritating, or…

You were spiraling.

You could see yourself drowning, reflected in the very window of his gaze.

But he gripped your shoulders—he wouldn't let you.

"I never asked for you to give me the world."

It was firm this time, and not necessarily gentle... Yet, the look in his eyes told you everything even before he spoke.

Slow, careful words, and his eyes never strayed from yours:

"All I've ever wanted was you."

Your breath hitched.

You waited, quiet, a little stunned; watched as he leaned in to give you a soft kiss. One to your forehead, one on your eyelids. Your cheek, the corner of your lips—

"I ask nothing of you, if only to know that you are okay. If only to know that you understand… that I will cherish you, and care for you, for as long as you are alive. Do you remember that?"

A memory stirred.

I should think about… how to live my life to the fullest. Because in this world, there's someone who'll like me for as long as I'm alive…

Those were your words.

A wave of warmth washed over you once more as he brought back memories from that day, one that, likely, was one that he thought of often himself.

"The moon…" he mumbled. Gently, he nudged your head sideways to allow you to glance out the window. He'd drawn the curtains back, and the night sky showed itself in full view to you. "Is beautiful tonight. Just as you are. Less than you are. Because you always shine brighter. And, to me… That is all of the world that I need."

"Zayne…"

"I bought you flowers, and I saw the cookies that you left on the table. However… how much you mean to me is not meant to be celebrated for simply one day of the year, and I don't plan to do that. I would celebrate it every day, every minute, every hour of my life. Besides… no matter how hectic things get, I will always want to see you."

This time, he pulled you back to him, gently easing his lips onto yours. A quick kiss, but a meaningful one. One that made the world disappear, your troubles disappear… at least, enough for you to focus on him, and all the love that he offered— to you.

"…Zayne?"

"Hm?"

"I love you."

You snuggled into his chest, curling into his warmth.

It felt lighter, now. Perhaps, not to be completely freed from the chains you had put on yourself, but… it felt lighter. More bearable. No longer suffocating.

No longer difficult.

"I love you," you repeated. You would whisper the words, quiet as you focused on his heartbeat. "I love you, twice… thrice… and more times… Because saying it once wouldn't be enough."

"And I love you, sweetheart." Once more, he pressed his lips to the crown of your head. "Twice, and thrice, and more. And, for tonight… We can do whatever you want. My time is all yours."

And perhaps, you thought, he was your world just as much as you were his.

taglist: @pixelcafe-network @hunters-association @darlingdummycassandra @daturasflower @thoupenguinman @valyvinny @rafayelsheart @jellyroom2 @chemiru @ywnzn @pepprrmint @angel-jupiter @cordidy @raiyuxa @xai-mery @oharasmommymilkers00 @pikachuzhc @fackeraccount @rafayelsgf @iloveboysinred @rafslvr @spotted-salamander @venussakura @love-and-deepstrays @evilgojo @keioxo @Zaynes-jasmine @~Air_Heart~ @keymeadoww @rowazuhime15 @strwbrychffoncke

© solifloris. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.

[hanafubukki]

Thinking about Riddle who’s a father; who doesn’t know how to play because of his past.

Riddle who learns how to play through his child.

Tiny hands grabs his and pulls him to the playground.

He’s awkward and clumsy.

He’s a bit embarrassed.

But then he sees his child, he sees the smile they have.

The carefree and loving expression.

The trust they have.

And he feels his heart beat. Beat. Beat. Beat.

Remembering the promise he made to himself the day his baby was born.

Never would he allow his child to be restricted as he was.

So they play. The swings, the jungle gym, the slides; laughter rings in the air.

Both of them dirty and dusty, but wide smiles and twinkling eyes are seen all the while.

Riddle walking home with his child sleeping in his arms.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Hand rubbing their back.

A content smile on his face.

A part of him heals.

[honeydippedfiction]

Red Zone {JB9}

Navigation

Genre: Slow Burn-ish, Comedy, Fluff, Romance, & Tension.

Synopsis: Y/N has spent weeks teasing Cincinnati’s golden boy, Joe Burrow, making him work way harder than he ever has for anything. But Joe doesn’t back down from a challenge—especially not when it comes to her. He’s all in, and the longer she keeps him waiting, the more he realizes… yeah, he’s down bad.

The real question?

How long before Y/N slips up and realizes she’s just as gone for him?

Warnings: Heavy Flirting & Tension, Joe Being Down Horrendous, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn (but Barely), Mild Language, Slight Possessiveness

Themes: Push & Pull Romance, Athlete x Support Staff, Man Falls First, Man Falls Hard, Confidence vs. Vulnerability, Football Setting, But It’s About Them.

WC: 9.6k

A/N: This does switch back and forth from your pov and Joe's pov. They will be separated by the orange banner.

Join my Taglists here or message me

• you DO NOT have my permission to copy my work, upload as your own, translate, or repost on any other website •

next

Joe Burrow was in trouble.

Real, undeniable, can’t-think-straight trouble.

And the cause of his suffering? You.

It started small—just stolen glances here and there. At first, he told himself it was nothing. Just admiration. But then admiration turned into distraction, and now distraction had turned into full-blown infatuation.

Joe was down bad.

It didn’t make sense. He’d met beautiful women before. Dated some, even. But you? You weren’t just beautiful. You were effortless. He noticed it in the way you moved, the way you carried yourself—never shrinking, never trying to impress anyone, just being. You had this energy about you, something magnetic that made it impossible to look away.

And damn, did he look.

A lot.

Like right now, for example. You were walking across the practice field, hauling a bag of footballs over your shoulder, curls bouncing as you moved, skin glowing under the late afternoon sun. Joe knew he should be focusing on drills, but how the hell was he supposed to do that when you looked that good just existing?

"Yo, Burrow, you good?" Ja'Marr Chase's voice snapped him out of his daze. Joe blinked, realizing he’d been gripping his helmet in a death grip, eyes still locked onto you like you were the end zone in the Super Bowl.

"Yeah," he muttered, clearing his throat. "I’m good."

Ja’Marr followed his gaze, then smirked knowingly. "Man, just talk to her."

Joe rolled his eyes. "It’s not that simple."

"Uh, yeah, it is. You’re Joe Burrow."

Joe huffed, adjusting his wristband. "And? What does that have to do with anything?"

Ja’Marr shook his head with a laugh. "Boy, you are gone."

Joe didn’t bother denying it. Instead, he jogged over to where you were setting up equipment, heart pounding in a way that had nothing to do with the heat.

"Need some help?"

You looked up at him, arching a brow. "With what? My job?"

Joe grinned, ignoring the way his pulse kicked up from just being near you. "Hey, just trying to make your life easier."

You scoffed, but he caught the tiny smile playing at your lips. "I’m good, QB1. You should be stretching or whatever it is y’all do before practice."

"I was stretching." Joe placed his hands on his hips, giving you his best innocent look. "Stretching my ability to be a gentleman."

You laughed, shaking your head. "That was corny."

"Yeah, but it got you to laugh," he shot back, smiling like he’d just won a game.

You shook your head, going back to work, but Joe wasn’t done yet. He lingered, watching the way you bit your lip in concentration as you sorted gear. He wondered if you even realized how fine you were. Did you know how bad you were messing with his head?

"You know," he started, "I’ve been thinking…"

"That’s dangerous."

He chuckled but pressed on. "I think you should let me take you to dinner."

You froze for a second before glancing up at him, skepticism clear in your eyes. "Take me to dinner?"

"Yeah." His voice was softer now, more serious. "Just you and me. No football, no equipment… just good food and good company."

You tilted your head, studying him. "Why?"

Joe exhaled, running a hand through his curls. He could lie, play it cool, act like this was nothing. But the truth was, it was everything.

"Because I can't stop thinking about you," he admitted, voice low. "And if I don’t at least try to take you out, I’m gonna lose my mind."

Your lips parted slightly, caught off guard by his honesty.

For a long moment, you didn’t say anything, and Joe swore he could hear his own heartbeat in the silence. Then, finally, you smirked.

"You’re really down bad, huh?"

Joe let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head. "You have no idea."

You let that hang between you for a second before grabbing a football and tossing it to him. "Well, keep thinking about it. Right now, you got a job to do, QB1."

Joe caught the ball with ease, but his eyes never left yours.

"Yeah," he murmured, smiling. "I do."

And as he jogged back to practice, he knew one thing for certain—this game he was playing with you?

He had to win.

---

Joe was spiraling.

It had been three days since your little conversation on the practice field, and he was still thinking about it. About you.

The way you had smirked at him like you knew you had him wrapped around your finger. The way your voice had dropped just a little when you called him down bad—like you enjoyed watching him squirm. And worst of all? The way you didn’t give him a straight answer about that damn dinner.

You had him in a chokehold, and you weren’t even trying.

Joe wasn’t used to this. He was Joe Burrow. Starting quarterback. A whole NFL franchise depended on him to be calm under pressure. But when it came to you? He was fumbling every time.

"You look stressed, man," Tee Higgins said, plopping down next to Joe in the locker room after practice.

Joe sighed, running a hand down his face. "I am stressed."

Ja’Marr, who was lacing up his sneakers, snickered. "Lemme guess. It’s about her."

Joe shot him a glare. "Her has a name."

"Yeah, yeah," Ja’Marr waved him off. "But the point is, you still stuck on that dinner thing?"

Joe huffed, leaning back against the locker. "She didn’t say no."

Tee raised a brow. "She didn’t say yes either."

"Exactly!" Joe groaned. "She’s messing with me, man."

Ja’Marr laughed. "Or maybe she’s just making you work for it. You’re used to girls throwing themselves at you, but she’s making you earn her attention. You know, like a real one."

Joe already knew that. It was one of the reasons he liked you so damn much. You weren’t impressed by the usual charm, the usual Joe Burrow Effect. No, you were different. And that made him want you even more.

But how the hell was he supposed to get your attention when you were so damn good at ignoring the fact that he was losing his mind over you?

He needed a plan.

And then it hit him.

---

The next day, you were in the equipment room, sorting jerseys when a familiar voice made you pause.

"Y/N."

You turned to see Joe standing in the doorway, looking entirely too good in his hoodie and joggers, curls slightly damp from his post-practice shower. He had a look in his eyes—intense, determined.

Lord, here we go.

"You stalking me now, QB1?" you teased, turning back to your work.

He stepped closer. "Maybe."

You looked up, surprised at his boldness. "Oh? So now you’re admitting you’re obsessed with me?"

Joe let out a soft chuckle. "I never denied it."

Your breath caught for half a second. He was playing a dangerous game, and the worst part? You kinda liked it.

Joe leaned against the counter, watching you. "You never answered my question."

You sighed, but the smile playing on your lips gave you away. "What question?"

"Dinner." His voice was lower now, laced with something unreadable. "You, me, somewhere nice. No football talk. Just us."

You bit your lip, pretending to consider it. "Hmm. I don’t know. I do like watching you sweat."

Joe stepped closer. "Oh, trust me, I’m sweating."

Your heart flipped. Damn it, why was he so smooth?

He tilted his head, searching your face. "Come on, Y/N. One dinner. Let me prove I’m serious about this."

You held his gaze for a long moment, pretending to be unfazed. But inside? You were unraveling.

Finally, you exhaled dramatically. "Fine."

Joe’s brows lifted. "Fine?"

You smirked. "Yeah. One dinner. No promises after that."

Joe grinned like he just won the lottery. "That’s all I need."

As he walked out, a victorious swagger in his step, you shook your head with a laugh.

Joe Burrow was down bad.

And maybe, just maybe, you were starting to like it.

♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧

You were in trouble.

Big, undeniable, what-the-hell-did-I-just-agree-to trouble.

Joe Burrow had been flirting with you for weeks, testing the waters, waiting for you to bite. And up until now, you had been so good at keeping him at arm’s length. He was Joe Burrow—star quarterback, franchise player, a literal golden boy. And you? You were just the equipment girl, someone who spent more time making sure shoulder pads were strapped on correctly than entertaining the advances of NFL players.

But Joe?

Joe was relentless.

And now, because of that damn smirk and those ridiculous blue eyes, you were stuck in a situation you had no business being in.

You groaned, dragging a hand down your face as you paced your apartment later that night. Your phone sat on your bed, Joe’s contact pulled up on the screen. He had texted you about dinner—nothing extra, just a simple, Pick you up at 7?

Like this was normal.

Like you weren’t freaking out.

You hadn’t even said yes to dating him. Just one dinner. But the way your stomach had flipped when you saw his name pop up on your phone? Yeah, you were in deep.

You weren’t about to make this easy for him, though.

So, after taking a few deep breaths, you finally texted back:

"Fine. But if this food is trash, I’m never letting you live it down."

Joe’s response came almost instantly.

"Noted. I’ll pick a spot worthy of impressing you."

You stared at your screen, shaking your head with a smile. Damn him.

♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧

Joe was losing his mind.

The second your text came through, he nearly fist-pumped right there in his living room. She said yes. She actually said yes.

It wasn’t a confession, it wasn’t a relationship, but it was a win. And when it came to you? Joe would take any win he could get.

"You’re smiling at your phone like a high schooler," Sam Hubbard teased from across the room.

Joe rolled his eyes, tossing his phone on the couch. "Shut up."

"Man, you got it bad," Sam laughed. "Who knew Joe Cool was capable of being this whipped?"

Joe ignored him. He didn’t care. If being whipped meant getting a chance with you, then fine. He’d take it. Because truthfully?

You were worth every bit of this madness.

---

The next evening, Joe stood outside your apartment, hands shoved into his pockets as he waited.

And then you stepped out.

And damn.

You weren’t even overly dressed—just a simple, fitted dress that showed off just enough, curls framing your face effortlessly. But to Joe? You might as well have been a damn supermodel.

He blinked, momentarily speechless. "Wow."

You raised an eyebrow, smirking. "What?"

"You look…" He exhaled, shaking his head. "So fine."

Your smirk deepened. "You are down bad."

Joe grinned. "And I’m not even ashamed."

As you slid into the passenger seat of his car, Joe couldn’t help but think—yeah, he might be in trouble.

But for you?

He’d risk it all.

♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧

You had to admit—Joe Burrow had taste.

The restaurant he picked wasn’t one of those over-the-top, flashy spots where people went just to be seen. No, it was intimate, warm lighting casting a soft glow over the tables, a quiet hum of conversation filling the air. It was the kind of place where the food actually mattered—not just the aesthetics.

Damn it. He was already impressing you.

Joe pulled out your chair for you, something so simple yet so unexpected that you blinked at him for a moment before sitting down. He didn’t say anything about it, just gave you that small, satisfied smile before taking his own seat.

"You’re really pulling out all the stops, huh?" you teased, picking up the menu.

Joe leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on the table. "I told you, I’m serious about this."

You met his gaze, expecting cockiness, but all you saw was honesty. And that? That was dangerous.

"Guess we’ll see," you murmured, scanning the menu to avoid the intensity of his stare.

Dinner was… nice.

Too nice.

Joe was easy to talk to, and despite your best efforts, you found yourself relaxing around him. He asked about you—not just the generic, surface-level stuff, but real questions. How you got into working for the Bengals, what you wanted to do next, what kind of music you liked.

"I figured you had good taste, but you really listen to Mint Condition?" Joe asked, grinning as he took a sip of his drink.

You raised a brow. "Why do you sound shocked?"

"I don’t know, I just…" He shook his head, smirking. "It’s just so fine."

You groaned, throwing your napkin at him. "No. Absolutely not."

Joe laughed, catching the napkin midair. "What? I had to say it at least once!"

"You are so corny," you muttered, but you couldn’t stop the smile tugging at your lips.

Joe leaned in, his voice dropping just slightly. "Yeah? But you like it."

And there it was again—that thing he did. The way he looked at you like he already knew how you felt, like he could read every single thought running through your head.

It should’ve been illegal to be this smooth.

You picked up your drink, taking a slow sip just to give yourself a second to think. "Mmm. Jury’s still out."

Joe just chuckled, sitting back. "Take your time. I’m patient."

That was the problem.

You weren’t sure you were.

♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧

Joe had been on a lot of dates before. Some good, some forgettable. But this?

This was something else.

He couldn’t remember the last time he cared this much about what someone thought of him. He was used to women being into him because of who he was. The quarterback. The fame. The whole Joe Cool persona. But you? You didn’t give a damn about any of that.

And that’s why he had to have you.

As you walked out of the restaurant together, the night air cool against his skin, Joe hesitated for the first time all evening. He didn’t want this to end.

"Let me take you home," he said softly.

You gave him a look. "Is that your smooth way of inviting yourself up?"

Joe smirked. "Nah. I just wanna make sure you get home safe."

You stared at him for a second, like you were trying to figure him out. Then, finally, you nodded. "Alright, Burrow. Take me home."

The drive was quiet, but it wasn’t awkward. It was comfortable. Joe stole glances at you every chance he got, watching the way your fingers tapped lightly against your thigh to the music playing low through the speakers.

When he finally pulled up to your place, he put the car in park and turned to you. "So… did I pass?"

You raised a brow. "Pass what?"

Joe grinned. "The test. The ‘is this food trash’ test."

You sighed dramatically. "I guess you passed."

"Good." He tilted his head. "What about the other test?"

You folded your arms. "And what test is that?"

Joe’s voice was low, teasing. "The ‘do I get another date’ test."

You let the question linger, your lips curling slightly at the edges. "Hmm. I’ll have to get back to you on that one."

Joe laughed, shaking his head. "You love making me work for this, huh?"

You shrugged. "Gotta keep you on your toes, QB1."

Joe exhaled, gripping the steering wheel. "You really got me bad, Y/N."

You stared at him for a moment, and for the first time, Joe swore he saw something shift in your expression. Something soft. Something dangerous.

But then, you opened the car door, stepping out. "Goodnight, Joe."

He watched you walk up to your building, waited until you disappeared inside before running a hand through his curls with a groan.

Yeah.

He was absolutely gone.

♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧

You were in so much trouble.

It had been two days since that damn dinner with Joe, and yet, you were still thinking about him. About the way he had looked at you across the table, completely focused, like you were the only thing in the world that mattered. About the way his voice dropped an octave when he got serious, his words sinking into your skin and settling deep in your stomach.

About the way you could feel the heat of his gaze even after you got out of his car.

Damn him.

You tried to shake it off, focus on work, anything to get him out of your head. But that was impossible when Joe Burrow was everywhere. At practice. In the locker room. Hell, even in your damn text messages.

Because, of course, he didn’t let up.

Joe: So, have you decided yet?

You rolled your eyes at the text, but a smile tugged at your lips. You didn’t even have to ask what he was talking about.

You: Decided what?

Joe: Don’t play with me, Y/N. The second date. You’ve had 48 hours. I know you’ve been thinking about me.

You: Bold of you to assume.

Joe: I’m right though, aren’t I?

Damn it.

You didn’t reply. Not because he was wrong. But because you refused to give him the satisfaction of being right.

For now.

♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧

Joe was losing patience.

He wasn’t used to chasing anyone. Not because he was cocky, but because usually, things just… happened. Natural. Easy.

But with you? You were making him work for it. And as much as it drove him crazy, he liked it.

Scratch that. He loved it.

It made everything about this—about you—even more real. Because you weren’t after his name, his money, or his status. You weren’t even sure if you wanted him at all.

And that? That was why he needed you.

Desperately.

"Man, you checking your phone again?" Ja’Marr’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

Joe locked his screen and shoved the phone into his pocket. "Mind your business."

Ja’Marr smirked. "She got you in a chokehold, huh?"

Joe sighed, running a hand through his curls. "Bad."

His teammate laughed, clapping him on the back. "Yeah, you’re done for."

Joe didn’t even argue. Because it was true.

Now, he just had to figure out how to make you admit it, too.

♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧

You should’ve known he wouldn’t leave you alone.

After practice that day, you were in the equipment room, organizing cleats when you felt someone behind you. Before you even turned around, you knew who it was.

Joe.

You sighed, not looking up. "Don’t you have somewhere to be, QB1?"

Joe leaned against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. "I do. But I’d rather be here."

You refused to let that get to you. "Well, unless you suddenly forgot how to tie your cleats, you don’t need me."

Joe smirked. "No, but I do need an answer."

You finally looked up, meeting his gaze. "An answer to what?"

Joe sighed dramatically. "Y/N. Don’t play with me."

You bit your lip, pretending to think. "I don’t know, Joe. Maybe I like watching you suffer."

Joe chuckled, shaking his head. Then, before you could react, he took a step closer. Too close. Close enough that you had to tilt your head to look at him. Close enough that the air felt thick between you.

"You are enjoying this," he murmured, voice lower, rougher.

You swallowed, refusing to back down. "Maybe."

Joe let out a slow exhale, his eyes scanning your face like he was memorizing every inch of it. "Damn, Y/N." His voice was almost pained. "You have no idea what you do to me."

Your breath caught.

Because this? This wasn’t just flirting anymore. This was real.

You forced yourself to keep your voice steady. "Oh, I think I do."

Joe exhaled sharply, like you had physically knocked the wind out of him. He shook his head, laughing softly, but there was nothing funny about the way he looked at you.

"You’re gonna drive me crazy, aren’t you?" he muttered.

You smirked. "Looks like I already have."

Joe clenched his jaw, hands twitching at his sides like he wanted to reach for you. And for a second—just a second—you thought he might.

But instead, he stepped back. Barely.

"You’re gonna say yes eventually," he said, voice sure.

You tilted your head. "What makes you so confident?"

Joe grinned, dimples on full display. "Because I know you want to."

You didn’t reply. Because, once again—he was right.

And you hated that.

As Joe walked out, leaving you standing there, heart racing, you realized something.

You might’ve thought he was the one in trouble.

But really?

It was you.

♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧

Joe was losing his mind.

It had been days since your little moment in the equipment room, and you still hadn’t given him a real answer about the second date. He had tried to be patient, to let you play your little game, but at this point? He was suffering.

The worst part?

You knew it.

And you were enjoying every second of watching him lose control.

Now, at practice, Joe was struggling. He wasn’t missing throws or anything—he was still Joe Burrow, after all—but he wasn’t locked in the way he usually was. Because every time he looked up, his eyes found you.

And you were torturing him.

It wasn’t even anything big. Just little things. The way you’d walk past him without acknowledging him, a tiny smirk playing at your lips like you knew exactly what you were doing. The way you’d bend down to pick up a helmet, moving just slow enough that it made his brain short-circuit. The way you’d casually talk to everyone else—laughing, joking—while completely ignoring him.

Oh, he was done.

"Yo, Burrow, focus!" Ja’Marr shouted after Joe overthrew a pass—something he never did.

Joe cursed under his breath, shaking his head.

"Man, what is wrong with you today?" Tee asked, jogging up to him.

Joe exhaled sharply, glancing toward where you stood on the sidelines, chatting with one of the other staff members like you didn’t have a care in the world.

Like you weren’t currently driving him insane.

"Her," Joe muttered, jaw clenched. "It’s her."

Ja’Marr followed his gaze, then laughed. "Damn. She’s really got you, huh?"

Joe ran a hand down his face. "Bro, I’m suffering. I can’t take this shit anymore."

Tee chuckled. "Just be patient, man. She’s testing you."

Joe huffed. "I know she is. But why? Why can’t she just be mine already so I can worship the ground she walks on in peace?"

Ja’Marr died laughing. "Oh, nah. Not worship."

Joe gave him a dead serious look. "I mean that shit. I’d do anything for her. And she knows it."

Tee shook his head with a grin. "Yeah, bro. You’re done for."

Joe groaned, adjusting his helmet. He was so close to snapping.

And you? You were thriving off of it.

♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧

You had Joe Burrow wrapped around your finger.

And you were having the time of your life.

You weren’t cruel—you weren’t trying to hurt him or anything. But watching Joe, Mr. Cool Under Pressure, absolutely lose his mind over you? Oh, it was too good.

And the best part? He wasn’t even hiding it anymore.

You caught the way he watched you like you were the only thing on the field that mattered. The way his jaw tensed every time you laughed at something that wasn’t him. The way he physically exhaled in relief whenever you so much as acknowledged his existence.

It was delicious.

So, naturally, you kept it up.

During a water break, you strolled past him, completely ignoring him like you had been all practice. But this time, right as you passed, you murmured, "Looking a little tense there, QB1."

And then you kept walking.

You didn’t have to turn around to know what effect it had.

You felt his eyes burning into you.

Oh, this was too much fun.

♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧

Joe was going to explode.

You had one sentence. One little sentence. And now he was done.

Practice? Over. His sanity? Gone.

This was it.

The second he got the chance, he was fixing this.

Because you were his.

You just didn’t know it yet.

---

Enough was enough.

Joe had spent weeks playing your game. Watching you tease him. Watching you enjoy watching him suffer. And at first? Yeah, he liked it. Loved it, even. The chase, the tension, the way you made him feel like no other woman ever had.

But at this point?

He was desperate.

He needed you. Had to have you. And if you weren’t going to give him an answer?

Then he was going to take one.

The second practice ended, he was on the hunt. While his teammates made their way toward the locker room, Joe jogged straight toward the equipment room—where he knew you’d be.

And sure enough, there you were, casually sorting gear like you hadn’t spent the entire day ruining his life.

You barely glanced up when he walked in. "Need something, Burrow?"

Oh, that was cute.

Joe shut the door behind him, locking it without a second thought.

That got your attention. You arched a brow, amused. "Oh? So we’re locking doors now?"

Joe didn’t respond. He just moved.

Before you could react, he was right in front of you, crowding your space, forcing you to tilt your head back to meet his gaze.

And for once?

You looked surprised.

Good.

"You think this is funny, don’t you?" Joe’s voice was low, rough. "Watching me lose my mind over you?"

Your lips curled slightly, but there was a flicker of something in your eyes—something unsure. "A little."

Joe exhaled sharply, his hands flexing at his sides like he was physically restraining himself. "Y/N, I’m done waiting."

You blinked. "Oh?"

"Yeah." Joe tilted his head, eyes locked onto yours like you were his only lifeline. "I’ve been patient. I’ve let you play your little game. But now? You’re gonna give me an answer."

Your breath hitched.

Joe saw it.

Felt it.

He took another step closer, so close now that if he wanted to, he could tilt his head just slightly and—

No. Not yet.

"Tell me you don’t want this," Joe murmured. "Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t feel this the way I do. And I’ll walk away."

Silence.

You didn’t say a word.

Didn’t push him away.

Didn’t do anything except stare up at him, lips parted, eyes flickering with a storm of emotions.

And Joe? He knew.

He knew he had you.

His lips barely ghosted over your ear as he whispered, "That’s what I thought."

Then, just like that, he pulled back.

And smirked.

"See you at dinner," he said casually before unlocking the door and walking out like you hadn’t just shattered in front of him.

Yeah.

Game over.

♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧

You were done for.

Like, actually, completely finished.

You stood in the equipment room, still gripping the jersey you had been folding before he walked in and single handedly wrecked your entire system.

Your brain was short-circuiting. Your body was betraying you. Your heart was racing.

And Joe? That smug, infuriating, fine as hell quarterback had the audacity to walk out like he hadn’t just flipped your entire world upside down.

You exhaled sharply, dropping the jersey onto the counter before bracing yourself against it.

What the hell just happened?

You had been teasing him all week—hell, all month—enjoying the way he looked at you like he was one second away from losing control. You thought you had the upper hand. That you were the one calling the shots.

But now?

Now, it felt like he was the one playing with you.

The way he had walked in here, eyes dark, voice rough like he was holding something back… whew.

And then he had the nerve to get in your space, to practically dare you to deny that you wanted him? That you had been craving this just as much as he had?

Yeah. You were shaking.

Your fingers curled into your palms as you swallowed hard, trying to get a grip.

The worst part?

Joe knew what he was doing.

He saw the way you reacted. The way you had just stood there, completely speechless for the first time since you met him. And instead of pushing his advantage? Instead of really pressing you for an answer?

He had pulled back.

Smirked.

And walked away like he hadn’t just left you hot and bothered in the middle of your damn job.

"That’s what I thought."

His voice echoed in your head, making you shiver all over again.

Oh, he was good.

And now you had to face him at dinner.

Alone.

Your stomach flipped at the thought.

You were in so much trouble.

---

You were not nervous.

Nope. Not at all.

You weren’t pacing around your apartment, staring at your closet like it had personally offended you. You weren’t overthinking every possible outfit, wondering if it sent the wrong message.

This wasn’t even a date.

…Right?

You groaned, flopping onto your bed. This was his fault. Joe Burrow’s fault. If he hadn’t waltzed into that equipment room acting like he owned you, whispering in your ear like some kind of smooth-talking devil, you wouldn’t be in this mess.

Because now? Now you couldn’t stop thinking about him.

His voice. His eyes. The way he had leaned into you without touching you, and somehow, that had been worse than if he had.

It was annoying.

And even worse? He knew what he was doing.

Cocky bastard.

Your phone buzzed, and you already knew who it was before you even checked.

Joe: I’ll be there in 10.

Your stomach flipped.

You sat up so fast you nearly gave yourself whiplash. Ten minutes.

Cursing under your breath, you bolted toward your closet, grabbing the first outfit that made you feel like you weren’t trying too hard but also didn’t scream I’m unbothered, because let’s be real—you were very much bothered.

By the time you were dressed, your phone buzzed again.

Joe: I’m outside.

Oh, Lord.

You took one last deep breath before stepping outside.

And there he was.

Leaning against his car, arms crossed, looking so damn good in a fitted black tee and jeans that should not have been allowed to fit that well. His curls were slightly damp—probably from a post-practice shower—and his ocean eyes locked onto you immediately.

And of course he smirked.

Like he knew.

Like he knew you had been thinking about him nonstop since your last encounter.

You refused to let him win that easily.

So you kept your expression neutral, tilting your head. "You clean up nice."

Joe let out a soft chuckle, pushing off the car to open the passenger door for you. "You always look good."

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the heat creeping up your neck as you slid into the car.

The second he shut the door and got in on his side, you felt it.

The energy.

The air was thick, charged, like something was just waiting to snap.

Joe didn’t start the car right away. Instead, he rested one arm on the steering wheel and turned to you, his eyes dragging over your face like he was committing every detail to memory.

"You nervous?" His voice was too smooth, too damn confident.

You scoffed. "Please. What would I be nervous about?"

Joe’s smirk deepened. "Good. Because I don’t want you running when you realize how bad I want you."

Your breath hitched.

Joe saw it.

And for the second time that week, you had nothing to say.

Joe chuckled, low and deep, before finally starting the car. "Let’s go, sweetheart."

You turned to the window, biting your lip to hide the fact that you were so not prepared for whatever the hell this night was about to be.

Because if Joe Burrow wanted you this bad?

You weren’t sure how much longer you could resist.

---

You were in trouble.

Not the kind of trouble where you could talk your way out of it, either. No, this was real, heart-racing, stomach-flipping, toe-curling trouble.

And it was sitting right next to you, gripping the steering wheel with one hand like it was the only thing keeping him from reaching for you.

The drive was quiet—but not awkward. No, it was worse than that. It was charged. Every second stretched out, thick with something unspoken.

Joe had already made his intentions painfully clear.

Now, the ball was in your court.

But what scared you wasn’t making a choice. It was the fact that you already had.

You were done pretending that the tension between you wasn’t real. That every look he gave you, every touch he barely allowed himself to make, wasn’t unraveling you from the inside out.

And Joe? He knew.

He knew you were running out of excuses.

Which was why he wasn’t pushing.

Not yet.

"You're quiet," he finally said, voice smooth, careful.

You huffed, forcing yourself to look at him. "And you’re smug."

Joe glanced at you, smirk barely visible in the low light of the car. "I can’t help it. I like knowing I’ve been on your mind."

You scoffed. "And what makes you think you have been?"

Joe hummed, tilting his head slightly, fingers flexing over the wheel. "Because if I hadn't been, you wouldn’t have spent the last ten minutes avoiding looking at me."

Damn him.

You exhaled sharply, shaking your head as you turned toward the window. "You’re exhausting."

Joe let out a low, knowing chuckle. "And yet, you’re here."

Your heart stumbled.

Because… yeah. You were.

♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧

He had you.

He knew he had you.

And not in some cocky, I always get what I want way. No—this was different. This wasn’t just some game to win.

This was you.

The woman who had been living in his head since the moment he met you. The woman who had him gripping his phone, waiting for your name to pop up. The woman who had turned him into a man who actually gave a damn about something other than football.

And you were here.

With him.

That was all he needed.

For now.

"You’re thinking too hard," you muttered, eyeing him as he pulled into the restaurant parking lot.

Joe chuckled, shaking his head. "And you’re acting like you’re not thinking about me at all."

Your lips twitched. "Maybe I’m not."

Joe turned the car off, then slowly—slowly—leaned over, resting his arm on the back of your seat.

His voice dropped, low and intimate. "Lying’s a sin, sweetheart."

Your breath hitched.

Joe felt it.

Saw the way your fingers clenched against your thigh.

And it took everything in him not to reach for you.

Not yet.

Instead, he just smirked and pulled back, getting out of the car like he hadn’t just left you gripping onto your last bit of self-control.

Yeah.

You were so close to giving in.

And Joe?

He was ready for it.

♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧

You needed a moment.

Just one, tiny second to gather yourself after Joe Burrow had the audacity to lean in like that, murmur in that damn voice, and then just—just walk away.

Like he hadn’t just turned your brain into a useless pile of mush and your panties into the damn Pacific Ocean.

Like he hadn’t left you gripping your thigh because you needed to physically stop yourself from doing something stupid—like grabbing him by the collar and testing just how much he really wanted you.

You let out a slow breath, pressing your palms against your thighs before finally stepping out of the car.

Joe was already waiting for you, leaning against the hood with his hands in his pockets, watching you like he knew.

Which, of course, he did.

Smug bastard.

"You good?" he asked, voice light but laced with something deeper.

You narrowed your eyes. "Perfect."

Joe’s lips twitched like he wanted to laugh.

Oh, he was enjoying this too much.

You straightened your shoulders, brushing past him toward the entrance. You refused to let him see how badly he was affecting you.

The problem?

Joe was Joe.

And he had zero intention of letting you pretend.

♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧

He was winning.

Not in a cocky, arrogant way—no, this was something else.

Because you liked this.

You liked the push and pull. The teasing. The way he looked at you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered.

And that?

That made him want you even more.

But what really got him?

What really fucked him up?

The fact that you weren’t just some prize to be won. You weren’t playing hard to get just to make him chase you. No—you were trying to protect yourself.

Because deep down?

You knew.

Knew that once you gave in, once you let him in—there was no coming back.

For either of you.

Joe clenched his jaw, inhaling sharply before following you inside.

Time to turn it up a notch.

♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧

Dinner was dangerous.

Not because Joe was being obvious—no, that would’ve been easy to deal with.

Instead, he was being subtle.

And that? That was so much worse.

It was the way his voice dropped just slightly when he spoke to you. The way he leaned in when you talked, giving you his full attention like nothing else in the world mattered.

It was the way his fingers brushed against yours when he passed you the menu, the way his knee barely pressed against yours under the table—and stayed there.

You were losing it.

And the worst part?

You were letting him.

"Y/N."

Joe’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts.

You blinked, realizing you had been staring at your untouched drink.

Joe tilted his head, amusement flickering in his eyes. "You good over there?"

You cleared your throat, straightening in your seat. "Fine."

Joe grinned.

Slow. Knowing.

And then he leaned in, elbows resting on the table, voice dropping to something dangerous.

"You keep saying that," he murmured. "But I don’t think you are."

Your stomach flipped.

You swallowed hard, refusing to look away. "And why’s that?"

Joe’s eyes darkened.

"Because," he said, voice smooth, confident, "if you were really fine, you wouldn’t be gripping your napkin like it’s the only thing keeping you from grabbing me."

Your breath caught.

Joe smirked.

And just like that?

You knew.

Tonight wasn’t about whether you’d give in.

It was about how much longer you could pretend you hadn’t already.

—

Okay, no.

You were not about to lose control.

Not here, not now. You were better than this.

You had spent weeks enjoying the chase—the game—the thrill of watching Joe Burrow squirm. The smug look on his face when he thought he had you cornered… that was what you lived for.

But now?

Now he was testing your limits.

His words had gotten under your skin, but you could see the glint of satisfaction in his eyes. He thought he had you all figured out. Thought he knew how far you could be pushed before you’d crack.

Well, he was about to find out how wrong he was.

You took a slow breath, meeting his gaze across the table. His eyes were dark with something dangerous, something that promised a night you weren’t sure you were prepared for.

But you weren’t going to make it easy on him.

You straightened in your seat, narrowing your eyes just slightly, and let your lips curl into a smile that wasn’t nearly as innocent as it seemed.

"Really?" you asked, voice low, almost too casual. "Gripping my napkin? You’ve been watching me that closely?"

Joe’s smirk faltered for half a second, and you caught it. Oh, you caught it.

His confidence was slipping.

You could see it in the way he leaned back just a little, trying to recover, but you weren’t done yet.

"No need to get shy, Joe," you teased, leaning forward just enough for your neckline to catch his attention. "I mean, if I were you, I’d be enthralled, too. Can’t blame a guy for staring."

Joe’s throat worked as he swallowed, his gaze flicking to your lips before meeting your eyes again, though his expression was strained now. He was fighting it—fighting you.

And it was so much fun.

"You're playing a dangerous game, Y/N," Joe finally said, voice thick, though there was a trace of uncertainty that wasn’t there before. "You sure you want to keep doing this?"

You leaned back, adopting a casual posture, making sure you weren’t leaning in too far. No, you were letting him come to you this time.

"You’re the one who keeps pushing," you said with a playful edge to your voice, eyes never leaving his. "I didn’t start this."

Joe’s lips twitched into a grin that was just a little too confident for his own good. "You know what they say," he said, voice dripping with teasing amusement, "You can’t start a fire without getting burned."

Oh, so now he was going for the full flirtation.

Well, two could play at this game.

You met his gaze with a tilt of your head. "Maybe I like fire," you said slowly, the words carrying a deeper meaning. "But I’m not the one getting burned here."

You saw it then—the brief flicker of his pupils dilating, the slight shift in his posture as if he was leaning in without even realizing it.

And that? That was the moment you knew you were winning.

Joe Burrow—Joe Burrow—was sweating.

♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧

Joe was done for.

He thought he had this all figured out. Thought he could walk in here, say a few smooth lines, and watch you crumble under the weight of his attention. He had spent the last few weeks imagining this moment, planning on how he was going to pull you in, how he’d sweep you off your feet.

But nothing, absolutely nothing, had prepared him for how good you were at this.

You weren’t shy, you weren’t tentative. You were dangerous.

And the worst part?

You knew it.

He had leaned in, fully expecting you to crack under his teasing. He’d been so sure you’d back down. But instead, you had turned it around on him—effortlessly.

Your smile, that look in your eyes… God, it was like you were toying with him, and for the first time in his life, Joe Burrow had absolutely no idea what to do.

When you leaned forward just enough for him to catch the curve of your neckline, his mind completely short-circuited. His thoughts scattered, his pulse quickened, and all he could think was more.

More of you.

But no.

He wasn’t done yet.

"You're good, Y/N," he said, trying to regain his composure, voice thick but still playful. "Real good."

You smirked, clearly pleased with yourself. "Good is an understatement," you quipped. "But I guess you’ll find out just how good I can be, huh?"

Joe couldn’t help the low chuckle that escaped him. "Oh, I’m already finding out, trust me."

But even as he said it, a little voice in his head reminded him that you were still in control.

And for the first time in a long time, he didn’t mind one bit.

♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧

Joe Burrow was unraveling.

And God, was it fun to watch.

He had walked into this evening so sure of himself—so cocky, so convinced that you were the one barely holding it together. He thought he could get in your space, whisper in your ear, watch you melt for him.

But now?

Now, he was the one gripping the edge of the table like it was the only thing keeping him grounded. His posture was still relaxed, sure—but his eyes? His jaw? The slight way his knee had started bouncing under the table?

Yeah.

You had him.

"So," you said lightly, taking a slow sip of your drink, "should I be flattered or concerned that you’ve been studying my every move?"

Joe exhaled through his nose, lips twitching like he was fighting a smirk. "You should be flattered. But at this point, I think I’m the one who should be concerned."

You arched a brow. "Oh? Why’s that?"

Joe tilted his head slightly, hazel eyes locking onto yours in that way that always made your stomach do something stupid. "Because," he said smoothly, "I’m starting to think you enjoy watching me lose my mind over you."

You set your drink down with an innocent smile. "Starting to think? Joe, I thought we established that weeks ago."

Joe huffed a laugh, dragging a hand down his face like he was physically restraining himself. "Christ, Y/N."

You bit back a laugh. "What?"

Joe shook his head, leaning in again—closer, but not enough. Never enough. "I don’t think you get it."

Your breath hitched, but you refused to back down. "Then explain it to me."

Joe’s jaw flexed. His fingers curled against the table, like he was debating something—like he was at war with himself.

And then, finally, he let out a breath and muttered something so low you almost missed it.

"I want you."

The words shot through you like electricity.

Not in some casual, flirty, let’s-see-where-this-goes kind of way.

No.

Joe Burrow had just laid it all out on the table.

No games. No teasing.

Just truth.

And for the first time that night?

You had nothing to say.

♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧

There.

He said it.

No more games. No more back-and-forth.

Just the truth.

And now? Now he was watching you, waiting—because this was it.

This was where you either pulled away or fell right into him.

You blinked once. Then twice.

And then, the slowest, most dangerous smile spread across your lips.

And Joe swore he stopped breathing.

"Took you long enough," you murmured.

Joe’s pulse spiked.

His fingers curled into fists against the table as he exhaled sharply through his nose, trying to keep himself in check.

Because you had no idea what you had just done.

None.

His patience? His self-control?

It was hanging by a thread.

"Y/N," he said, voice tight, "don’t push me right now."

But you just smirked.

"Oh?" you said, tilting your head. "And what happens if I do?"

Joe clenched his jaw so hard it ached.

Because fuck.

You were testing him.

And if he wasn’t careful?

You were going to win.

---

He couldn’t sit here any longer.

Not with you looking at him like that—eyes gleaming with mischief, lips curved in that little smirk that knew exactly what it was doing to him.

But when you had looked at him across the table, all playful and smug, that damn smirk on your lips—he snapped.

Not in a reckless way.

No.

Joe Burrow was calculated.

Always.

So, without a word, he stood up.

You blinked up at him, brows furrowing slightly. "Joe?"

But he didn’t answer.

Didn’t give you time to process before he was rounding the table, slipping his hand into yours, and gently—but firmly—pulling you up to stand.

His fingers curled around yours, warm and steady.

And when you didn’t resist?

When you let him lead you?

Yeah.

That was all the confirmation he needed.

"Come on," he murmured, his voice low, thick with something you felt in your bones.

You barely had time to register that he had already paid before he was leading you through the restaurant, fingers wrapped securely around yours.

Heads turned as you passed, but Joe didn’t notice. Didn’t care.

His entire focus was on you.

And the second you stepped outside, the cool night air brushing against your skin—

Your back hit the car.

Gently.

Not harsh, not rushed. Just decisive.

Because finally—finally—he had you exactly where he wanted.

♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧

Okay.

What just happened?

One minute, you were testing Joe, enjoying every second of watching him try to keep his composure.

And now?

Now, his hand was in yours, his grip strong and unwavering as he led you—no, practically dragged you—out of the restaurant.

"Joe—"

But he didn’t stop.

Didn’t slow down.

And when you stepped outside, the night air cool against your skin, he turned so quickly that you barely had time to react before—

Your back hit the car.

Gently. Not rough, not rushed—just firm.

Like he needed you here.

Like he couldn’t wait another second.

Your breath hitched, hands instinctively finding the front of his shirt, gripping the fabric like you needed something to ground you.

Not because Joe had pushed you against the car—no, that wasn’t what had your pulse racing.

It was him.

Joe pressed his palms against the car on either side of you, caging you in.

And when he finally met your gaze—

You felt it.

The weight of everything unsaid.

The way he was looking at you.

Like he had spent every second of this night holding himself back.

Like he wasn’t going to anymore.

The tension that had been simmering for weeks, threatening to spill over.

You swallowed hard. "Joe—"

"Enough."

The word was low. Rough.

A command. A plea.

Your hands were still curled into the front of his shirt, fingers twitching slightly, but he didn’t seem to mind. If anything, he liked it.

Your stomach flipped.

Because this?

This was different.

He wasn’t teasing anymore.

And neither were you.

Joe exhaled slowly, ocean eyes flickering down to your lips before snapping back up.

"Tell me to stop," he murmured. "If you want me to, just say it."

But you didn’t.

You couldn’t.

Because you didn’t want him to.

Instead, you tilted your chin up slightly, your own silent challenge.

And that was all it took.

Joe moved.

His lips crashed onto yours, firm, certain—like he had been dying to do it.

And maybe he had.

His hands found your waist, fingers pressing into your sides, like he needed to feel you, to ground himself.

And you let him.

Because God, this was Joe.

And you were done pretending.

When he finally pulled back—just enough for his breath to mix with yours, for his forehead to brush against yours—he let out a rough, almost breathless chuckle.

"You drive me insane," he muttered.

You smirked, voice slightly dazed. "Good."

Joe huffed a laugh, pressing a slow, lingering kiss just beneath your jaw, like he wasn’t quite ready to pull away.

"You’re mine," he murmured against your skin.

And you didn’t argue.

---

You’re mine.

Two little words, murmured against your skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

And the worst part?

You liked it.

Far too much.

Joe was still close, still hovering over you, his hands firm at your waist like he wasn’t ready to let go yet. Like he needed just a few more seconds of feeling you pressed against him before he could think straight again.

You weren’t sure you could think straight either.

You swallowed hard, inhaling slowly, trying—failing—to steady yourself. "Bold statement, Burrow."

Joe just smirked, his breath still warm against your skin. "Bold? Nah. Just facts."

Your stomach flipped.

You should’ve said something back, something clever, something to knock him off balance like you’d been doing all night—

But your brain?

Completely blank.

Because Joe wasn’t playing anymore.

He had spent weeks letting you tease, letting you test him, letting you hold the power in your little back-and-forth game.

But now?

Now, he had you exactly where he wanted.

And he knew it.

You let out a shaky breath. "And what makes you so sure I belong to you?"

Joe pulled back slightly, just enough to meet your gaze, his hazel eyes dark with something unreadable. "Because," he said smoothly, confidently, "you haven’t pushed me away yet."

Damn him.

Damn him for being right.

You hated the fact that he had you speechless. That he had flipped the script so effortlessly, leaving you the one struggling to keep your cool.

But you weren’t going down without a fight.

Not yet.

So, with as much composure as you could possibly muster, you tilted your head, running your fingers down the front of his shirt. "Hmm," you mused, voice teasing despite the way your heart was pounding. "I don’t know… feels like you're the one who can’t let go."

Joe’s grip on your waist tightened—just for a second—before he huffed a laugh, shaking his head. "You’re impossible."

You grinned. "And you love it."

Joe exhaled through his nose, eyes flicking to your lips before snapping back up to your eyes. "Yeah, I do."

Your breath caught.

Because he had said it so easily.

No hesitation. No games.

Just truth.

And for the first time tonight, you didn’t have a comeback.

Didn’t have a single damn word.

Joe smirked at your silence, leaning in just enough to brush his lips against your temple—soft, lingering. "Come on," he murmured against your skin. "Let’s get out of here before I do something reckless."

You swallowed, pulse still wild, but somehow, somehow, you managed to smirk back. "Like what?"

Joe pulled back just enough to look at you, his hazel eyes filled with something deep, something dangerous.

"Like proving that you already belong to me."

Oh.

Oh, you were in trouble.

♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧♡+:•∴”:♡.•♬✧

You were gonna be the death of him.

Joe had spent weeks chasing you, letting you tease, letting you think you had the upper hand. He let you play your little game, let you watch him squirm, let you test just how much he could take.

But now?

Now, he had you cornered.

And God, was it satisfying.

The way you had no response to his words, the way you were staring up at him, lips slightly parted, that confident little smirk finally wiped clean off your face—yeah.

He had won.

You knew it, too.

But you were still fighting.

Still trying to hold onto whatever was left of your control, even as your fingers curled just slightly in the fabric of his shirt.

Joe smirked. "What? No comeback?"

Your eyes narrowed slightly, like you wanted to say something, like you were searching for something smart to throw back at him.

But nothing came.

Joe loved that.

"That’s what I thought," he murmured, letting his thumb trace slow, lazy circles against your waist.

You shivered.

Barely.

But he felt it.

Joe exhaled through his nose, tilting his head slightly. "Still wanna pretend you don’t feel this?"

You inhaled sharply, jaw tightening. "I never said I didn’t feel anything."

Joe arched a brow. "Oh?"

You swallowed, but that playful fire in your eyes was back, that spark of defiance that drove him absolutely insane. "I just said I like watching you lose your mind over me."

Joe huffed a laugh, shaking his head. "Unbelievable."

You grinned, clearly pleased with yourself. "I try."

Joe should’ve pulled away.

Should’ve stepped back, given you space, let this moment simmer between you instead of pressing his advantage.

But he couldn’t.

Not when you were standing there, smiling at him like that, all smug and teasing and absolutely infuriating.

So, instead, he leaned in, voice low, thick. "Careful, Y/N. Because if you keep pushing me…"

Your breath hitched, eyes flickering to his lips. "Then what?"

Joe smirked. "Then I’ll remind you exactly why I’ve been so patient."

Your expression flickered—just for a second. Just long enough for Joe to see it.

And that?

That was everything.

"Come on," he muttered, finally—finally—forcing himself to take a step back. "Let’s go before I lose every ounce of self-control I have left."

You exhaled slowly, eyes still locked onto his, and then—finally—you nodded.

Joe let his hand slide down your arm, fingers brushing against yours before he laced them together, gripping your hand like he wasn’t letting go.

And he wasn’t.

Not now.

Not ever.

—

The whole drive to your place was quiet—too quiet.

Joe could still feel the weight of everything that had happened tonight, lingering thick in the air between you two. The teasing, the tension, the way you had finally, finally let your guard slip just enough for him to see that he wasn’t the only one feeling this.

And now?

Now you were sitting in his passenger seat, scrolling on your phone like you weren’t completely aware of the way his hand was still resting on your thigh.

Joe smirked to himself. You weren’t fooling anyone.

When he finally pulled up in front of your place, he threw the car in park but didn’t move.

Neither did you.

Seconds passed.

The air between you still crackling, still charged with something neither of you wanted to be the first to say out loud.

Joe tilted his head slightly. "You gonna invite me in?"

You huffed a laugh, side-eyeing him. "Cocky."

"Just hopeful," Joe corrected smoothly, giving your thigh a gentle squeeze. "But if you need me to beg…"

Your breath hitched—just barely—but Joe heard it.

You turned your head, finally looking at him head-on, eyes searching his face like you were trying to figure out if he was serious.

(He was.)

Then, after a long pause, you hummed. "Nah."

Joe arched a brow. "No?"

You grinned. "I think I like making you wait."

Joe groaned, throwing his head back against the headrest. "You are killing me."

You laughed, and damn, that sound alone made every second of waiting worth it.

He turned back toward you, gaze locked onto yours. "One day, you’re gonna slip up," he murmured. "And when you do, Y/N…" He leaned in just slightly, voice dropping. "I’m not letting you go."

Your grin faltered—just a little.

Just enough for Joe to see that you felt it too.

But instead of answering, you reached up and tugged his hoodie strings, pulling him in just enough for your lips to brush the corner of his mouth—soft, barely there.

Joe froze.

And then—

"Goodnight, Burrow," you whispered against his skin.

And just like that, you were slipping out of the car, leaving Joe sitting there, stunned, gripping the steering wheel like he was barely holding himself together.

His head fell back against the seat. "Jesus Christ."

He was so, so screwed.

JB9 Taglist: -

[aellesira]

—🌹 'THE PRINCE'S ROSE: one. arrival.

“I don’t like any of them, grandmother.”

But one could tell that Kinich hadn’t even properly looked at any of the women in front of him. Kinich’s eyes scanned across the room, his gaze sweeping judgmentally over the gathering of beautiful women sitting across the hall. Bored, he tried his best not to roll his eyes at his current predicament. His grandmother sat on her throne next to him, smiling. It was clear that she had high hopes for these women, but…

They all seemed so stuck-up. Such were like the noblewomen of the kingdom who had spent their lives in luxury and wealth, the empress supposed. She sighed, and then she stood up.

“Welcome, noble daughters of the kingdom, to the palace. As you are all aware, I have decided to get my son, the future King of Natlan, married. This means that I need to find a suitable wife for him. And in two week’s time, that woman will be decided..." "One of you thirteen noblewomen.” The Empress carried herself with the air of a highly eminent and respected royal, and she was, setting an example for you.

You glanced around your surroundings, biting your lip with slight dread. There were all these beautiful women around you sitting beside you, just how would you compete against them?

Not to mention — was that Lady Mualani? Surely a friend of the crown prince would be the most favoured lady here? You couldn’t afford to lose this opportunity, time was ticking.

“As such, the royal council and I have come to the decision to hold a royal contest. The outcome of which will decide the future Empress. Every other day, there will be a competition to test which lady among all of you is the most competent, the most capable. Only the best of the best can rule this kingdom in my place one day…” she paused, gazing intensely from left to right.

The crown prince didn’t seem especially enthusiastic about this arrangement. His eyes narrowed at some women shamelessly winking at him, trying and failing to get him to notice them.

But the Empress had insisted that he was just at the right age to choose a suitable wife. And now, he must find someone. Not that anybody in front of him seems decent enough, but he supposed he couldn’t judge based on looks. Although… looks seemed to reflect perfectly the personalities of most of the noblewomen.

“The winner of each days’ competition will be held in high regard, of course. We will consider them the most. The winner of each competition also gets the privilege of spending additional time with the crown prince at the end of the day," The Empress couldn't suppress a smile at this. "However, the final decision shall be made by him, the last day of the competition will be a ball. I wish you all good luck.” When the Empress had finished, she pardoned herself.

Murmurs among the women rippled across the room like waves, signifying the beginning of this selection. You were given two rules, and only two.

One, only the left side of the palace was forbidden for any of the guests to visit, save for the gardens. Two, small meetings with the prince on free days were allowed as long as they weren’t taking up too much of his time. And respect and kindness towards palace staff and the royals, of course, and even though it wasn’t expressed clearly the Empress knew she would be able to pick out the kind-hearted ones from the foul.

You were given the freedom to roam the halls of the palace, too. Because, if one of you were to be the Empress of this palace, you’d need to get used to this place.

So, you chose to wander a bit. The architecture of the palace was lovely; your eyes were blessed. But, perhaps it was for this reason, that after a while of exploring cluelessly, you suddenly jolted into someone. You let out a grunt. At first, you thought it was potentially a guard, and so you turned around to apologize, but the words were stuck, and didn’t come out of your mouth when you realized you had bumped into none other than the prince.

The prince. Way to make a first impression. You cursed yourself in your head.

For a moment, he only stared at you. Scoffed. If he wasn’t already irritated with the women who, up until a week ago, he had no intention of marrying, he must've certainly been now. He dusted over his clothes, his lizard-like eyes scrutinizing over your form. “I- my apologies, Prince Kinich, I wasn’t looking where I was going- please excuse me-” you stammered, afraid that he already saw you as a clumsy girl. Your head was bowed down in embarrassment at this prospect.

“Move out of my way.” he simply muttered. You turned to the side, and he didn't even spare you a glance and continued to wherever he was going before. When you were sure it was solely you in the great big hallway, you slapped your forehead. The entire time you trudged back towards your guest room, you couldn’t help but wonder if your clumsiness had ruined everything already. And the competitions hadn’t even started… great. Sleep didn't come to you quickly that night, either. Secretly, however, when Kinich laid on his bed that night, waiting for sleep to take him, he wondered if you, the first decent-looking and respectful woman in a group of snobs, although a klutz, would change his outlook on this contest. No, he scoffed. All these ladies were the exact same.

notes, this is going to be one of the shortest chapters i think, but don't worry; things are about to get interesting quickly!

taglist, @adres-tia, @sparklz02

—🌹 'THE PRINCE'S ROSE: masterlist. next.

[soli-floris]

ᰔ — of chocolates and sweet, sweet love; will you be mine this valentine's?

btw — hi, this is roxie!! ( @rose-tinted-kalopsia ) !!about: a love and deepspace valentines fic event event duration: february 1 2025 — march 15 2025

how does this work? send me an ask with: (1) a character of your choice, (2) a genre of your choice, and — (3) either a place you'd like to go on a date, or a gift you'd like to receive! note; please view my request rules here. i can't promise to do every single request sent my way, but i will do my absolute best to!!

STATUS: completed! (1 remaining fic pending 🤍)

"solifloris valentine25" tag, masterlist below 🥰

CALEB — cozy — convenience store date; fluff. wc 1.6k

XAVIER — maybe the night — pillow fort date; fluff. wc 2k

ZAYNE — love you twice — home date; hurt/comfort. wc 3k

JEREMIAH — honey is sweeter with you — home date; fluff. wc 1.2k

LUKE & KIERAN — love countdown — receiving homemade chocolate; fluff. wc

© solifloris. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.

[cigsaftersuh]

ㅡ living love letter.

🌹 a lee taeyong fic <3

୨ taeyong getting your doodles inked onto his skin ୧

taeyong loved being your canvas.

it started with small, lazy sketches on his arms and hands whenever you were curled up together on quiet afternoons. a smiley face here, a dainty flower there — simple little doodles drawn while you two watched movies or listened to music.

taeyong would hum along softly, letting you guide the tip of the pen or marker with care, never once pulling away.

"you trust me too much," you teased, adding swirls or stars across his wrist.

taeyong smiled, eyes fond and warm. "your art belongs on me."

what you didn’t realize back then was that he’d make those scribbles permanent.

the first one came after a particularly quiet sunday, the kind where the sunlight melted across the floor and time didn’t seem to matter. you’d drawn a tiny daisy on his wrist—crooked petals, uneven lines, but charming nonetheless.

"it’s just a doodle," you teased when he kissed it later that evening.

a week later, he showed up at your door with it tattooed in the exact same spot.

"taeyong, what-"

"i wanted to keep it," he said simply, rolling up his sleeve so you could see. the tattoo artist had copied it perfectly; every ‘flaw,’ every wobbly petal.

"it’s yours, so it’s mine now. forever."

you didn’t know what to say, just smiled at him like he’d hung the stars himself.

the second one came on his shoulder.

it had been raining all day, and you were both curled up under blankets, passing a marker back and forth as you traced lines up his arm. "let’s do something bigger," you murmured, biting your lip as you drew a little galaxy, making sure to include stars, swirls, and even a small crescent moon.

"why space?" he asked, eyes half-lidded as he leaned into you.

"because you’re my universe," you replied softly, trying not to sound too cheesy.

taeyong didn’t reply, he just smiled, tucking his face against your shoulder.

two weeks later, the galaxy was there to stay

you ran your fingers over it when he showed you, your voice caught in your throat.

“you really don’t hesitate, do you?”

"not when it comes to you," he whispered back.

the third one was a little heart on his ring finger.

it wasn’t planned at all. you’d drawn it in passing while you two were waiting for food at a small diner — “your spot.”

"to match your heart," you said, grinning like it was nothing.

taeyong didn’t tell you until months later that he’d gone to get it tattooed that very same week.

"wait, when did this happen?" you laughed, holding his hand between yours to look closer.

"it’s tiny, but it’s there," he said with a proud grin. "like you. always with me."

you didn’t know how to respond except to kiss him, your laughter tangled with his lips.

the most recent one took you by surprise.

"close your eyes," taeyong said one evening, his voice full of that familiar excitement that meant he was up to something.

"why?" you asked, suspicious but still smiling.

"just trust me."

when you opened them, taeyong was rolling up his shirt sleeve to reveal a new tattoo — a delicate outline of your handwriting, right along the inside of his forearm.

you stared, mouth open. "is that..?"

"your i love you,” he finished for you, the corners of his lips curling. "the one you wrote on my arm last week."

you remembered it — just a small moment, an afterthought as you’d scribbled the words there absentmindedly. but now, seeing it permanently etched into his skin, your chest felt impossibly full.

"taeyong," you whispered, tracing the ink gently.

he smiled at you, eyes soft. "you always say it’s just doodles, but they mean everything to me."

you didn’t know what you’d done to deserve someone like him, someone who could take the smallest things you gave him and turn them into treasures.

“you’re the most precious thing that’s ever happened to me," you murmured, pressing a kiss to his forearm where the ink rested, still looking fresh.

"i’m all yours," he replied simply, his hand finding yours.

and when you looked at the collection of little tattoos across his skin — your daisy, your galaxy, your heart — you realized taeyong had turned himself into a living love letter.

the ink might have stayed, but so did he.

with love,

© cigsaftersuh

[maddietries]

“Im not good enough for you.” Katsuki blurts out one day.

“And I’ve committed murder.” I say matter a factly.

“What?” “I thought we were saying blatant lies.”

“I’m being serious.” ”and why aren’t you good enough? Who said that?”

“I did.”

“Katsuki this is the one time I don’t value your opinion. I don’t why know why you think you’re not good enough, but you’re crazy to think that. You are this hot and loving guy who has done nothing but love and protect me.”

“But-“

“No. Katsuki, if anything I don’t deserve you. But we love each other, don’t we? So I don’t know why you’re going crazy but don’t try and fight me on this.” I say walking closer to him hugging him.

“I love you, okay?”

“Love you too.” I smile as he mumbles that into my chest.

“Don’t ever, try and tell me you aren’t good enough ever again.”

[4pologygir1]

hiiiii i love ur work!! i am craving spencer reid headcannons about how he acts after coming home to reader after a long case!!

alsooooo can i be 🌹🌹 anon? tysm!

got it!!! and oh woah, first claimed emojis, so cool! (also, two winona posts in one night? crazy!) all about those first moments when he walks through the door. i had s3 spence in mind, but you can imagine whichever! here’s how spencer reid is coming home to you after a long (but not awful) case:

✶ the second the door opens, he’s already smiling. not just a little smile—one charged with love and travel exhaustion. he sees you and it’s like his whole body exhales, like, oh, finally.

✶ such a “honey, i'm home!” guy. started as a silly joke, but it totally stuck. he laughs all breathless and overjoyed, wrapping you up in a hug so tight you almost tip over. he's practically gravitationally pulled towards you…

✶ picks you up without thinking. just lifts you off the ground for a second, trying to physically make you closer. then puts you down and cups your face like oh my god, you’re here, you’re real, this is my actual life.

✶ he gets this dazed, slow-motion grin and says something stupid but ridiculously charming like “oh my god, you’re even prettier than i remembered.” he's such a loser. i have to have him.

✶ drops everything the second he’s inside. bag? floor. shoes? who cares! coat? barely shrugs it off before he’s reaching for you again, hands on your waist, lips pressed against your cheek.

✶ lingers in the doorway like he’s absorbing the feeling of home. looks around with that soft, boyish expression, taking in the cozy lighting, the familiar smells, you.

✶ melts the moment you touch him. you put your hands on his cheeks? he leans into them like a cat. you run your fingers through his hair? he actually closes his eyes and hums. full-body reacting to affection like he’s been starved for it.

✶ talks a mile a minute at first. about the flight, the breakthrough he had on the case, about the exact moment he started missing you (which was immediately). all while holding your hands, touching your face, tucking your hair behind your ear like he can’t believe you’re real.

✶ he would then hit a wall of exhaustion. one second he’s talking, the next he’s just staring at you, all soft and sleepy-eyed, and goes “…i think i need to lay down.”

✶ collapses into bed, but only after a quick but comforting shower. head buried in his pillow, arm slung across your stomach, looking over at you with that sweet, lovesick gaze. “say something,” he mumbles, “i just wanna hear your voice.” UGH. whatever. he's so adorable, i can't stand him!

✶ falls asleep mid-sentence!! you’re talking in bed, and he’s going on about some book he read on the jet, and then his words trail off, and you look over to find him completely knocked out, face smushed against the pillow.

✶ his body realizes he's home before his brain does!!! he'd stretch out, feeling warmth beside him rather than scratchy motel sheets. so, basically heaven! and if he doesn't have work that morning? yeah, it's heaven.

✶ wakes up extra soft. no grogginess, no grumbling—just immediately pulling you closer, hiding his face in your shoulder, whispering illegible words and making the most content noises known to man.

[cherrynflowergarden]

quiet || matt sturniolo

an; tysm my lovies for participating in the 500 celebration!! i saw your asks but unfortunately tumblr is acting up and now i can't see them:( smut alert!!! minors dni

the lewd sound of skin slapping filled the room as matt pounds into her tight hole. he leans over her, intensely watching her become a drooling babbling mess. eyes rolled back, drooling from the mouth and moans leaving her mouth like a broken record, she looked like heaven to him.

"shh sweetheart" he coos, griping her chin with a hand forcing her to make an eye contact with him, while his other arm supported his weight. lips nibbling and sucking on her pulse point he whispers, "be quiet f'me, yeah?"

he generally enjoys listening to her moans. makes his ego sky rocket knowing he makes her feel so good. but today his brothers were home and very much awake. the chances of getting caught are high and he can't risk it. if his brothers find him in such a compromising position, he would never hear the end of it. but that didn't stop him from taking her to the bed. the thrill of getting caught just made him hornier, his cock throbbing in her warm cunt — coating him with her juices.

she could barely hold her moans in. feeling the drag of his thick cock, in her walls, dick hitting her spots roughly and so easily made her loose her mind.

"i— fuck i can't icanticanticant" she babbles incoherently. whimpers escaped her mouth, cheeks wet with tears, back arched and hips moving upwards to match his thrusts. she looked beautiful like this, under him — at his mercy. a slow smirk made it's way to his face at her response. his fingers which were groping her tits, went to her neck. roughly pressing his palm around her neck, he violently slammed into her.

"you can't, huh?" his hand left her neck to grip her hips — in order to keep her in place. "you can't keep fucking quiet, huh? making you feel so good?"

a loud moan left her throat, despite her attempts to be quiet. it's not her fault though, he makes her feel sooo good. the tingling feeling in cunt was too overpowering to remain quiet, all she could do is nod her head, a silent answer to his previous question.

apparently matt didn't seem to like her silence because a loud smack was heard in the room. he had slapped her breast. he needed to listen to his girl say that. "answer me princess or did i fuck you too dumb to form a sentence?" his condescending tone only brought her to the edge, the coil in her belly tightening.

"feels—... feels so good, matt" she whimpered out, eyes rolling back in pleasure. her hand went to his hairs to tug on them. the pull on his hairs did it for him as reached down to rub against her poor abused clit.

brows knitting together, that finally snapped the coil in her belly. following her lead, matt pulled out to cum on her belly.

gasping for air, they just hoped they weren't loud enough for his brothers to hear.

[solifloris]

≡;-꒰ 𝐗𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐑 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I  𝒎𝒂𝒚𝒃𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕

╰┈➤ ❝ xavier x afab!reader | VALENTINE'S EVENT !

tags : established relationship, general teasing and banter, kisses, cuddles, lots and lots of fluff, xavier glows when he's happy <3

wc : 2k

an : I MISS HIM. I MISS HIM I MISS HIM I MISS HIM I MISS HIM I MISS HIM AHUHUHUHU i needed to get this out of my system omg,,, this is the happiest i've been with writing for a while tysm @bunbunnies for the request AND HAPPY WHITE DAYYY !! (p.s. please listen to the song i swear it adds to the vibes) (p.p.s. additional tag @ourlittleuluru for also inspiring this hehe)

taglist : under the cut! (SIGN UP HERE)

ko-fi jar / commissions

Everyday is enough of a special day as long as it's with you.

Your eyes blinked open.

The advantage of sleeping in Xavier's room was that the blinds were drawn—it was the perfect environment to be conducive for sleep, so much so that the peaked, late-afternoon sun, did little to stir you awake. The sheets were warm, and cozy, and soft… You could sink into the mattress, so cloud-like and weightless.

It was dangerous, in a sense. Staying here made you forget what other things you had on your to-do list for the day. But turning your head to the side to rest your eyes upon the soundly sleeping figure next to you made everything worth it. Warm sunlight peeked in slightly through the blinds, illuminating the room in a soft, dim glow, but you didn't really need it. If anything, the only light you felt that you needed was right here, right next to you.

You noticed faint, barely-noticeable particles of light floating around the crown of his head, and you smiled.

Those weren't from the sunlight.

He must be having a good dream…

You shifted slightly. The movement pulled you away from his embrace just a little bit, but it was enough to get him to stir.

"Mmmnh…"

He didn't open his eyes, but his arms tugged you closer by the waist. An instinctive reaction, you could only assume, and a soft laugh fell from your lips in response. Something about the way he held you made him feel akin to a weighted blanket; despite being clearly asleep, his grip on you was firm enough that you could barely wiggle free from him this time.

You felt sleepy nuzzles into your shoulder, and you smiled and pat his arm.

Pats wouldn't work, of course.

Gently, you shook him, trying to nudge him off of you.

Bleary eyes opened, vision unfocused.

"What… time is it?"

A playful scoff on your end. "Gee, I dunno, Xavier. I'm kinda stuck here."

He blinked, for a moment. Once, twice. It took a while, and you patiently waited, eyebrow raised as your words—and the way he was hugging you so firmly—finally registered in his head. A hint of sheepishness was present on his gaze as he allowed you free from his grasp. You were quick to soothe with a kiss to the tip of his nose.

He sat up with you as you moved to reach for your phone, and out of the corner of your eye, you could see him rubbing his eyes as if it would do anything to help the sleepiness subside.

12:30 in the afternoon.

This was new—you never got to sleep in this much when you were alone, but sleeping with Xavier seemed to bring out newer, sleepier, admittedly lazier sides to you that you didn't know you could have. It was a good thing, of course; at least this time, you could actually rest. There was something freeing about it. Xavier never judged you for sleeping in with him; in fact, he'd much rather have you do just that than wake up without him.

And then your eyes drifted towards the date.

February 14th.

A moment of realization dawned.

You'd gotten so caught up in this just being another simple, restful day off, that you'd completely forgotten…

Slowly, sheepishly, you set your phone down and turned to Xavier.

Still clearly a little out of it, he was sitting up, staring blankly in your general direction. It seemed as if his mind was still asleep, slow blinks not particularly focusing on even you, or anything else. His hair was a mess, a few strands sticking out. His pajama top looked a little skewed—no doubt, if he could still be under the covers at this very moment, he certainly would have been.

But he also looked so freaking cute.

A moment of silence passed like that, a silly smile on your face as you tilted your head—because how could you look away from that? Few others would have the privilege of seeing the Association's most formidable Hunter doing adorable little eye rubs and trying to stay awake in his own bed. In fact, no one else probably did aside from you. And it was a sight to appreciate.

It didn't take too long for his gaze to focus back on you, and, whether out of another instinctual pull or out of a slight sense of embarrassment for realizing you'd been staring at him this whole time, he pulled you back against his chest. Automatically you curled your figure into him, ear resting against his heart as you listened to its ever-steady thrum.

"…It's almost one in the afternoon," you huffed. Yet there was no resistance in your voice; your arms wrapped around him in a reciprocal manner.

"Mhm. But… I want to stay like this a while longer."

"This is unfair, you're just too comfy…"

He shifted, coaxing your head up to look at him. Upon meeting his gaze, you could see that most of the sleep had since melted away to give way to a certain sense of fondness. "We don't have plans today," he murmured. "Can't we stay in a little longer?"

It was so difficult to say no.

A smile peeked at the corners of your lips.

"Well… how about, what do you want to eat later? We've missed breakfast, so this might as well be…"

"Brunch… right?"

"Mhm!" Your eyes fluttered as he reached over to trace your cheek, light, gentle touches that lulled you into a sense of comfort. "We could… order some takeout, maybe? It's been a while…"

"Sure. We can order from that place you like."

You watched, your own gaze softening, as he leaned in to press a kiss to your forehead.

"Xavier…"

"What do you want to do today?"

He tucked an awry strand of your hair away from your face this time, but the question made your eyes light up. Something in you knew what he wanted to hear—that he probably, likely wanted to just stay in and sleep.

Yet, you sat up, and you could have laughed at his expression. He blinked, taking another moment to process, and his brows furrowed ever so slightly. Unlike last time, he didn't sit up with you.

"I… I have an idea!" you nudged him. "Listen, you said so yourself. We don't have plans today… And, remember all those movies we said we'd watch together? Isn't this the perfect time for us to—"

He cut you off.

Another second had you practically yanked back down to him, and you let out a laugh.

"Five more minutes…"

—

You wondered if it was supposed to end up this way.

Messing around in the kitchen turned brunch into an odd combination of breakfast, lunch, and dinner, another reminder of just how easily things could flow into their own thing, when it was just the two of you. You could argue about how unhealthy your habits had been today, but one day was just one day, wasn't it? You had no real plans today—in the end, what it settled into was a mutual agreement to indulge in the day a little.

But what you hadn't expected was to walk into a living room that no longer… looked like the living room that you knew.

You didn't think you'd spent that much time fixing up the kitchen, but the stark change to the living room space proved otherwise.

Prepped for your little home theater date, the room had been dimmed, lights switched off—except, even with the lights on, you wouldn't have been able to pinpoint where exactly the television was, or where exactly the couch was, or where exactly Xavier was. Instead, what stood in front of you was a large amalgamation of blankets, and bedsheets, and pillows… Not quite organized in the least, nor matched in shade or size, but certainly very… big. You knew that these were all the extras that you had stored, and you couldn't quite describe what was in front of you.

A canopy?

A castle?

A… fort?

You stood there for a while, head tilted, noting a rummaging going around on the inside. It took a moment before you heard a little click, and the inside of the pillow fort glowed a warm, inviting orange.

Xavier poked his head out from under one of the blankets.

"Hi," he nodded at you.

The sparkle in his eyes told you that he was quite proud of yourself.

"…Hi," you laughed. "What's with the living room, Xav?"

"You… said you wanted to watch some movies. I figured I could turn it into something cozy."

"Except I'm always cozy with you."

"Then, extra cozy."

"Did you just want another place to fall asleep in?"

"…No…"

With a laugh, you waved your hand, and crawled under the fort with him.

The space was smaller inside than you'd expected it to be, all fluffy and warm and, true to his word—cozy. It certainly didn't look like much from the outside, but snuggling with him under a separate blanket of your own, leaning against the foot of the couch, the television settled in front of you… truly did make it feel like a personal little theater for the both of you.

Once again, perhaps instinctually, you curled sideways into him and lay your head on his chest. With one arm wrapped around you to keep you securely tucked into him, he used the other to point upwards.

Fairy lights.

Several strings of them, the very source of the little glow you'd been seeing from outside. The lights emitted from them weren't particularly strong, but all of it turned this whole thing into something that was—again—cozy.

A hand reached out, and you let out a soft laugh. "They look like stars."

He followed your motion, reaching out with you. His hand placed next to yours made yours incredibly small, but it made you smile. "Yeah," he agreed, "but they're also stars that don't feel too far away from us."

"Kinda like we're stargazing, huh? Without the cold…"

Your fingers intertwined with his, and he brought your hands down towards his mouth. A soft peck to your knuckles, before he nuzzled your hands against his cheek.

"Well… Anywhere with you feels like stargazing. Since the only star I really want to be looking at… is right here."

His words drew out the air from your lungs. Your eyes met—there was a certain shine in his, blue eyes glowing beneath the strings of light hanging above you. Even this alone, the way he looked at you, could have been enough to drown you. You felt the heat rush to your cheeks; such simple words had you floundering in an instant.

"You're so unfair," you murmured.

There was no bite to your words.

"Am I?"

He shifted to dim the fairy lights, and a flick of his hand had his evol playing around with the lighting. Barely a couple of tries were needed for him to secure a spot on the 'wall' of your little safety fort, where shadows danced along the lined sheets. Slowly, he brought his pinky over to draw your hand back to his, and the shadow of a rabbit formed on the wall.

A giggle fell from your lips. "Hey, that looks like Bunbun!"

"That you've gotten three of in a row just last week…"

You nudged him, pulling your hand to make another, smaller rabbit. "Weeelllll, it kind of looks like you, too~"

Sneaking a glance at him showed a little smile spreading on his own features, but you had little time to recognize the brief flash of mischief in his eyes before the rabbit he'd been projecting to the wall swiftly turned into the head of a wolf.

You gasped, drawing your own rabbit away. "Xavier!"

"I thought you were more sensitive to traps."

"But they're cute—!"

"Sometimes… you should expect the unexpected."

You let out a squeal as the 'wolf' began to advance towards your rabbit, and you immediately draw your hand away and buried your face into his chest. "Silly!" Laughing, you made light punches at his arm. "Take your wolfie away from me!"

And it was silly, but something about it made you feel all fuzzy inside. He laughed in return; it was the sound of it that made you stop, pausing to cherish the warmth that spread through you as a result of it.

Yet the more you look at him, the more you realize that the glow within your little blanket fort, pillow fort, castle whatever it was—wasn't quite coming from much of an external source, but from… him. Specks of those same little sprinkles of light scattered around him, and you could have sworn the very outline of his figure felt like it was glowing.

Smiling, you shifted closer to him, fingers moving to thread through his hair. "Xavier…" you chuckled. "What's going on?"

"What… do you mean?"

You reached out to poke his cheek. "Xavier glows when he's happy."

It took a moment.

You watched as his expression shifted ever so slightly, the flash of surprise making itself visible for a moment before settling into a fondness you knew was reserved only for you. You could marvel at it, really. There were many things about Xavier that you've come to know all this time that you've been spending with him, the past couple years of your relationship. Things like the subtle movement of his gaze when he's caught off-guard, or the twitch of his lips when he tries to keep himself from smiling. He was more expressive than people realized—moreso with the little things, and a little less, sometimes, with his words.

"Because I am happy." He leaned in, closer. The tips of your noses touched, and he nuzzled against you gently. "Are you?"

His hand raised, a familiar bunny light bouncing around the both of you as he smiled softly. That bunny, the very same one from that campfire, the very same one where—as far as you could recall—you'd made one of your very first promises with him.

Tell me when you're overwhelmed next time.

Something in you told you this was a similar moment.

It was quiet for a while, your eyes staying locked. Bated breath formed a certain tension in the air that wasn't unbearable, but easily had your heart skipping a beat. If you leaned back down, listened to his heartbeat… you wondered if you would feel the same thing. Yet somehow, in this moment… it felt as if your hearts had never been this close.

It was Xavier who broke the silence.

"I didn't forget, you know."

You didn't pull away, but you blinked. "…Huh?"

"Today. It's Valentine's day… Isn't it?"

"Oh…"

"I didn't forget."

He nodded his head, once. The smile on his face never quite left, even as he assessed the traces of panic on your own.

"I— I did, though… Sorry. I don't have anything, I didn't really—"

"It's okay."

You blinked. Again. You noticed that Xavier had been catching you by surprise a fair amount this day. "Huh?"

"It's okay," he repeated, patiently. "Because the only gift that I want… is already right next to me. And she's the same star as the only star I wish to be looking at."

Once again, it was Xavier who broke the tension.

Before you could react, before you could fluster yourself over his words—

He leaned down, lips touching against yours.

One kiss. "I love you."

Another kiss. "I love you."

A third kiss. "I love you, still."

You were left dizzy at the quick succession of kisses, feather-light, barely there, and you could practically feel the way his lips turned up into a satisfied smile.

"They say three times' the charm… right?"

Cheeky.

And yet, looking back into his eyes pushed the mischief in them aside, and instead what you found in them was— love.

So, so, much love.

More than the three times he's said it today, and more than… whatever Valentine's Day was supposed to be.

Something swelled in your chest.

"Sometimes, I think that, from the far reaches of the night sky… A star has arrived on this planet." You spoke slowly, formulating your words, and then you bumped your nose against his with a smile. "And I also think that star happens to be laying right next to me."

Arms wrapped around his neck, and it was your turn to shower his face in a little flurry of kisses, relishing the soft laughs that fall from his own lips.

"So if I'm the only star you want to look at," you murmured, "then you're the only star I want to spend the rest of my days with. I hope… tonight won't be the last night we get to spend with each other. I want more nights with you. More like this."

And he chuckled.

"No, it won't be the last."

Slowly, his arms trailed to rest on your waist, gently guiding you to settle on top of him. Happily, you pressed your forehead against his. In this moment, you realized that you loved, all too much, to look into his eyes like this.

"…Your eyes look like stars," you laughed quietly.

"Yours hold all of them."

"No, that's wrong, Xavier. It holds one star. That's you."

He smiled.

"…Mn. It won't be the last, not tonight." He said again, brushing your hair from your face. "We've followed the pull of fate to this moment, so I'll make sure to stay by your side. Now, and always. Maybe, this night… holds the hope there is for us to always be together."

taglist : @pixelcafe-network @hunters-association @darlingdummycassandra @daturasflower @thoupenguinman @valyvinny @rafayelsheart @jellyroom2 @chemiru @ywnzn @pepprrmint @angel-jupiter @cordidy @raiyuxa @xai-mery @oharasmommymilkers00 @pikachuzhc @fackeraccount @rafayelsgf @iloveboysinred @spotted-salamander @venussakura @love-and-deepstrays @evilgojo @keioxo @~Air_Heart~ @keymeadoww @strwbrychffoncke @nezuswritingdesk

© solifloris. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.

[honeydippedfiction]

In Your Arms, Finally {JB9}

Third Installment of Red Zone

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Synopsis: After a week of running from her feelings, Y/N returns to her family and gains the clarity she needs about what truly matters. Trusting her heart, she takes a bold step towards what she’s been avoiding, letting it guide her to a new beginning with Joe.

Warnings: Emotional intensity, Vulnerable and raw moments, Strong romantic themes, Mentions of past character death, Argument, Brief mention of sh*oting, Doubt, Joe and Y/N can't function without each other.

Themes: Self-discovery, Reconciliation, Love and vulnerability, Emotional healing, Overcoming fears, Romance, Drama, Contemporary Fiction

WC: 53.8k

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A/N: This does switch back and forth from your pov and Joe's pov. They will be separated by the orange banner. Get your tissues ready to go (I know I talked about making this part spicy but I couldn’t help but make y’all wait for it)

• you DO NOT have my permission to copy my work, upload as your own, translate, or repost on any other website •

Playlist Desparado - The Eagles Candle In The Wind - Elton John I Can't Wait Another Minute - Hi-Five I Wanna Be Your Lover - Prince Butterflies - Michael Jackson ⏮️Previous

Joe took a deep breath, as though grounding himself in the moment, before pulling away just enough to look at you properly. His eyes softened, and you could tell he was fighting something. “I should go. Practice, you know?” he said, a hint of regret in his tone, though he didn’t move to actually leave.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak at first. His proximity still made your heart race, and it felt like your entire body was alive with electricity from just that kiss. You swallowed hard, trying to focus. "Yeah, go," you managed to say, though your voice felt unsteady.

Joe’s hand lingered in yours for a moment longer, and he gave you a final, lingering look before turning and heading out the door, leaving you standing there, your heart still pounding in your chest. The silence that followed felt heavy, almost too quiet after everything that had just happened. As you reached for your phone to call Imani, the door clicked shut behind Joe, and you exhaled slowly, trying to calm yourself.

The phone rang a few times before Imani picked up. “Girl, what happened? You sound like you just ran a marathon,” she teased, her voice upbeat. You laughed softly, shaking your head even though Imani couldn’t see you. “I think I just made a huge mistake,” you said, your voice trailing off. Imani gasped dramatically on the other end. “You kissed him, didn’t you? Wait, no. You did! That’s why you sound so breathless!” She paused, and you could almost hear the grin on her face. “Oh my god, Y/N. How did it feel?”

You sighed, still feeling the rush of emotions, your body still thrumming with the aftereffects of the kiss. “It was... intense. I don’t even know how to explain it. It felt like everything shifted in that moment.”

Imani didn’t respond right away. You could hear her barely stifled laugh before she spoke again. “And you didn’t jump his bones? Seriously? I thought that was the entire point of the kiss!”

You groaned, feeling both embarrassed and completely flustered. “Imani, don’t. It was—look, it was complicated. I don’t even know where we stand after that, okay?”

Imani snorted. “Girl, if I were you, I would've gone for it. That boy’s all over you, and you’re standing there acting like nothing happened?”

You ran a hand through your hair, already regretting how much you were telling her. “It’s just… we’re in different places right now. I don’t know if I’m ready for whatever this is, and I don’t know if he is either.”

Imani’s voice softened just a bit. “Listen, you can’t be afraid to take a chance. Life’s short, Y/N. If you want him, go for it. Don’t let fear hold you back.” There was a beat of silence before she added, “But, like, just tell me you didn’t let him leave without a proper goodbye kiss?”

You winced. “He… he had to go to practice. It was too fast, too much.”

Imani groaned. “You’re killing me, girl. But, okay, I get it. Just don’t regret it.”

You could feel your heart fluttering just from talking about it. “I don’t know if I’ll regret it, but—ugh, I’m just confused now.”

“Well, figure it out quick. I think he might be a little confused too,” Imani said, her voice light with the hint of teasing. “But, Y/N, one thing’s for sure: that boy’s hooked. Don’t doubt that for a second.”

You let out a small laugh, but your thoughts were a whirlwind of emotions. “I just need some time to figure it out. But, you’re right. I think something’s changed.”

“Well, whatever happens, I’m here for it,” Imani said, her tone softening. “Just don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, okay?”

“Ha! That’s not saying much,” you joked, but the tension in your chest still hadn’t fully dissipated.

“True. Alright, I’ll let you go. But don’t forget to call me if anything else happens. Especially if you decide to finally make your move.”

You rolled your eyes even though she couldn’t see it. “I will. I promise.”

As you hung up, you couldn’t help but replay that kiss in your head, wondering if Joe was still feeling the same rush of emotions you were, or if he was already pushing it all aside as something casual. But deep down, you knew things between the two of you had shifted—there was no going back from that moment. You stepped out of the shower, feeling refreshed but still a little thrown off from earlier. The kiss with Joe still lingered in your mind, and you weren’t quite sure what to make of it. You pushed the thoughts away as you got dressed and grabbed your bag, heading to the stadium. It was time to focus on practice—and the duties you had as an equipment manager.

When you arrived at the stadium and walked into the laundry room, you found Imani and Keisha whispering to each other, their heads close as they shared something with a touch of mischief in their eyes. The moment you entered, they both looked up at you, their conversation halting as they quickly straightened up. Their guilty expressions didn’t escape you. You raised an eyebrow. “What are you two whispering about?”

Imani flashed you a quick smile, brushing it off. “Oh, nothing. Just some girl talk.” Keisha quickly nodded, adding, “Yeah, nothing to worry about, promise.”

You weren’t convinced, but you decided to let it go—for now. After all, you had more important things to do, like getting the footballs ready for practice.You all started gathering the equipment and getting things ready, heading out to the field. As the equipment managers, it was your job to set up the gear, make sure everything was in order, and help the players get prepared for practice.

You and Imani were setting up the footballs when she leaned over teasingly, her voice a little too casual as she whispered, “Here comes your man.”

You turned toward her, rolling your eyes. “Imani, stop. Seriously.” But even as you said that, you couldn’t help but glance up. Sure enough, Joe was walking toward you, his familiar swagger filling the space around him. He was dressed in his practice gear, the muscles in his arms and shoulders rippling under the fabric, and there was no mistaking the way his gaze locked onto you for just a second. It was brief, but it made your heart skip a beat, and you quickly turned back to the footballs, trying to focus on anything else.

Imani wasn’t letting you off the hook, though. “I’m just saying, Y/N… you might want to do something about that look he’s giving you.” She winked as she nudged you with her elbow. You felt your cheeks heat up, and you tried to laugh it off. “It’s nothing.” Keisha, overhearing, chimed in with a smirk, “Girl, please. That’s definitely not nothing.”

You had no time to respond as Joe made his way over, and your attention shifted to him. He gave you a small nod as he walked past, the briefest of smiles tugging at the corner of his lips. There was something about the way he looked at you that made everything feel different now. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but you knew he felt it too.

As he passed, Imani leaned in again, her voice dropping into a teasing whisper. “Don’t tell me you’re going to let him walk away like that.” You sighed, trying to ignore the weight of her words. “Imani, seriously.” She just grinned, clearly enjoying herself. “I’m just saying. You’re welcome to make a move anytime, you know.” You rolled your eyes, but even you couldn’t ignore the way your heart was racing.

You tried your best to focus on the task at hand as you set up the water station, the sound of the footballs being tossed around and the players gearing up filling the air. Every step you took, every movement you made, you could feel the weight of Joe's presence lingering in the background. It was impossible to ignore him. You could practically feel his eyes on you, even though you were pretending not to notice.

You bent down to grab the last few water bottles, trying to steady your nerves. Get it together, Y/N, you told yourself. This is just practice. Focus on the job. But your heart kept racing, the memory of his intense gaze from earlier flickering in your mind. The way he’d looked at you that morning, the way his lips had brushed against your temple in that soft, almost intimate kiss—it was impossible to shake off. You could still feel the heat of it on your skin, the tension that had been between you two crackling in the air.

As you straightened up, you heard footsteps approaching. You didn’t need to look up to know who it was, the familiar sound of his heavy boots telling you everything you needed to know. You kept your focus on the water station, hoping he wouldn’t stop to engage. “Need help with that?” Joe’s voice was low, smooth—just the right amount of teasing mixed with that raw, masculine charm he effortlessly carried. You didn’t look up, but you could hear the smirk in his tone. You shook your head, keeping your back to him. “I got it, Joe. You focus on practice. I’ll handle this.”

You could practically feel him smirking behind you. Classic Joe, you thought, the guy who was always the center of attention, always in control, always used to getting what he wanted. But there was something in his tone that was different today. It wasn’t the usual playful arrogance—there was an underlying note of something else. Something… deeper. He didn’t move away. Instead, you felt him getting closer, his presence suddenly invading your personal space. You could hear his breath, feel the heat radiating off him as he leaned in just slightly, his voice barely above a whisper. “You know, you’re not fooling anyone, right?”

You froze, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up. You turned slightly to glance over your shoulder at him, trying to maintain some semblance of composure, but you could already see the way his eyes were trained on you—intense, unwavering. “What do you mean?” you asked, your voice more strained than you’d intended. Joe’s lips twitched into a grin, a cocky glint in his eyes. “I can tell you’re trying to ignore me. Trying to pretend like this”—he gestured between the two of you—“isn’t happening. But it is.”

You narrowed your eyes, feeling your pulse quicken. Damn it. He was right. The tension between you two was thick enough to cut with a knife, and no matter how hard you tried to ignore it, it was impossible. “I’m not ignoring you,” you replied coolly, turning back to the water station, pretending to focus on getting everything just right. You weren’t sure if you were trying to distract him—or yourself—from the way your heart was pounding in your chest. Joe’s footsteps grew louder as he took a step closer. “You’re lying,” he murmured, a hint of amusement in his voice. “And you’re not fooling anyone either. Not Keisha, not Imani, definitely not me.”

You tried not to let the heat that was creeping up your neck show on your face, but you could feel your cheeks flush. He was way too confident. But you couldn’t deny that it was driving you crazy, the way he stood there, unbothered by the obvious tension, like he was waiting for you to cave. “I’m not lying,” you muttered, trying to play it cool, though your voice lacked the usual conviction. “Oh, you are,” he said, and you could practically hear the grin in his voice. “You think I don’t see how you look at me when I walk into a room? You think I don’t know you’ve been thinking about what happened between us this morning?” He paused for a second, his voice dropping lower, more intense. “I know you felt it. I felt it. And you’re lying if you say you didn’t.”

You could feel your pulse racing now, your hands suddenly clammy as you gripped the water bottles in your hands. He wasn’t wrong. You had been thinking about it—about him. Constantly. And despite everything, you weren’t sure how to process the confusion swirling inside you. You finally looked up at him, meeting his eyes. He was standing way too close, his presence surrounding you, as if he was trying to pull you into his orbit. And god, it was working. “Joe…” You didn’t know what you were going to say—didn’t know if you could even get words out at all—but his name felt like a confession in itself.

He smiled, soft and knowing. “It’s okay, Y/N. You don’t have to pretend with me.” You stared at him for a beat, unsure of how to respond. The way he was looking at you—intensely, like you were the only person in the room—was almost overwhelming. It was like he could see through all your walls, all your defenses. And he was making it clear that he wasn’t going anywhere until you acknowledged what was happening between you two.

Just as you were about to speak, you heard the whistle blow signaling the start of practice. Joe took a half step back, his eyes still locked onto you, but the smirk on his lips was gone, replaced by something more vulnerable, something deeper. There was no more teasing, no more playing around. He wasn’t just flirting anymore—he was waiting, waiting for you to catch up to him, to admit what he already knew. "Practice time," he said softly, but the way he said it—almost reluctantly—told you everything you needed to know.

He wasn’t going anywhere, and neither was the tension between you. "Yeah," you said quietly, your heart thudding in your chest, "practice time." The tension between you and Joe was palpable, and you could feel the heat of his gaze still on you, the intensity of the moment hanging in the air like a thick fog. But you weren’t about to let him get the upper hand—not now, not when you were starting to feel the weight of this ridiculous pull between you two.

You turned toward him slowly, letting your lips curl into a playful, mischievous smile. “You know, Joe,” you began, your voice light but teasing, “you’re getting way too comfortable thinking you know everything about me.” You saw him tense just slightly, as if bracing for whatever you were about to say next. His confidence was undeniable, but you were starting to enjoy the power you had in this little game.

You took a step closer to him, feeling the buzz of his proximity all over again. He shifted, almost like he was trying to hold his ground, but you could see his eyes flicker with that familiar mix of desire and confusion. You could practically see the wheels turning in his head. With a flick of your wrist, you brushed past him, purposefully letting the edge of your arm graze his. His breath hitched, and you almost smirked at how easily you’d thrown him off balance. But you weren’t finished.

You took a moment to look back over your shoulder, catching his eye once more. His expression was a mix of disbelief and admiration, his mouth slightly agape as if he hadn’t seen this side of you before. “Maybe you’re not as good at reading me as you think,” you added with a raised eyebrow, your voice a sultry whisper that you knew would hit him hard.

You saw him open his mouth, like he was going to say something, but you didn’t wait. Instead, you turned and walked away from him, letting your hips sway just a little more than usual. You didn’t look back, but you could practically feel him watching you, his gaze locked on every curve, every step you took. You could hear him mutter something under his breath, but by then, you were already out of his reach, feeling a surge of satisfaction as you let him stew in his own thoughts for a moment.

For once, you weren’t the one left in the whirlwind of emotions. Now it was Joe’s turn to be thrown off-balance, and it was glorious. It wasn’t just the slow burn anymore. You were having fun with it, and you knew Joe was in way deeper than he had ever expected. Let the games continue.

You stood with Imani and Keisha on the sidelines, watching the team go through their drills. The sun was starting to dip lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the field, and the sounds of cleats hitting the turf and whistles being blown filled the air. But your attention wasn’t on the drills. It was on the guy who was running up and down the field with a seemingly effortless confidence—Joe. Imani, always the one to speak her mind, let out a low whistle as Joe sprinted across the field. “God, his ass is so big,” she said, eyes wide as she practically ogled him. Keisha let out a laugh, clearly agreeing. “I know, right? It’s like he’s got everything—looks, talent, and now that. So unfair.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “So not fair,” you agreed with a dramatic sigh. You shook your head in mock frustration, putting a hand on your hip. “Why does he get it all?” you whined, earning a giggle from both of the girls. Imani nudged you with her elbow, still chuckling. “You know, if I wasn’t so busy loving my own life, I might get jealous. He’s got it all—and it’s not even fair.”

Keisha laughed again, glancing over at you. “Girl, he’s got you looking at him like that, and you’re talking about his ass?” You shrugged, trying to play it cool, but there was no hiding the flush creeping up your neck. “It’s not like that,” you mumbled, but the girls weren’t having it. “Oh, it’s totally like that,” Imani teased, winking at you. “I mean, we’ve all seen the way you look at him. It’s not just the ass you’re looking at.”

The comment hit you a little harder than expected, and you tried to brush it off by crossing your arms and turning back to watch the team. But there was no denying it—your attention always drifted back to Joe. His movements, the way he carried himself, the way his muscles flexed with every step. And yeah, that ass. You couldn’t ignore that either. Keisha caught the look on your face, raising an eyebrow with a smirk. “I’m just saying, if you’re gonna stare, at least do it without getting caught.”

You rolled your eyes, but the playful banter made it easier to ignore the fact that Joe had you completely twisted up inside. For now, at least, you could pretend like it was all just harmless fun. The last thing you needed was to let anyone—especially Joe—know just how deep this little crush of yours really ran. But as the players moved through their drills, Joe’s eyes caught yours from across the field, and for just a second, he gave you a little smirk—like he knew exactly what you were thinking. And just like that, you felt your heart race.

This was going to be interesting. Imani and Keisha were absorbed in their usual not-so-subtle checking out of the other players as they jogged past, their eyes scanning every guy with equal parts admiration and appreciation. The two of them barely made an effort to hide their obvious stares, with Keisha openly fanning herself as another player flexed his muscles. Imani gave her a playful shove, both of them grinning like they were at some sort of fashion show.

“Oh, look at Ja’Marr’s arms,” Keisha murmured, her eyes trailing the wide receiver’s form. “Seriously, how does he even get those guns through a doorframe?” Imani was quick to join in, shaking her head in mock disbelief. “No kidding. That man has too many muscles. It’s like a walking personal trainer.”

They both giggled, clearly enjoying the view, but Y/N couldn’t help but notice that their conversation had shifted from the usual team banter to a different subject entirely. She wasn’t paying much attention to the others though—her gaze was still on one person. As Joe jogged past, his broad shoulders and confident stride made it impossible for her to look anywhere else. She couldn’t stop herself from studying the way his movements seemed effortless, like he was born to do this.

Keisha noticed Y/N’s focus shift and raised an eyebrow. “I see you,” she teased. “Not even looking at Ja’Marr, huh?”

Y/N blinked, snapping out of her Joe-induced trance, but her cheeks flushed a little, betraying her. “What? I’m just trying to stay focused,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant as her eyes flicked back to the field. Imani smirked, nudging Y/N’s arm with a knowing look. “Uh-huh, focused, sure. Focused on Joe’s perfect ass, right?” Y/N’s face went a shade deeper. She wasn’t exactly trying to hide her attraction anymore, but she wasn’t exactly shouting it from the rooftops either. Still, she couldn’t help but laugh. “I mean, what’s a girl supposed to do when he's out here giving us all a show?”

Keisha leaned in, lowering her voice like she was about to share a secret. “I mean, I wouldn’t mind being the one he’s looking at. You’ve seen the way he looks at you.” Imani shot a pointed glance at Y/N, her eyes twinkling. “You mean the way he looks at you when he’s not trying to make it obvious? Girl, he’s got it bad for you.”

Y/N’s pulse quickened at the thought, but she didn’t give her friends the satisfaction of knowing that their words were getting under her skin. She rolled her eyes, trying to act cool despite the warmth spreading through her chest. “Come on, I’m not the only one getting attention here,” she shot back, glancing at Keisha who was clearly eyeing Tee as he jogged by, his smile as wide as ever. “You two can’t pretend like you’re not looking too.”

Keisha shrugged, unabashed. “We’re just admiring the view. Nothing wrong with that.” Imani grinned. “Right, nothing wrong at all. But Y/N? Girl, don’t think we haven’t seen the way your eyes follow Joe around. You might not admit it, but it’s written all over your face.” Y/N sighed dramatically, looking out over the field, trying to ignore the electric tension still lingering between her and Joe. She could feel his eyes on her again, even from across the field. He was probably too busy to be thinking about her like that, but the way he looked at her sometimes… It made her heart race, and it wasn’t easy to ignore.

“Whatever,” she muttered, trying to sound confident, “he’s just—he’s Joe. He’s the guy on the team who probably has a million women after him already. I’m not gonna make it easy for him.” Imani and Keisha exchanged looks, clearly not buying it. “Sure, sure,” Imani said with a sly smile, “you keep telling yourself that.” Keisha laughed under her breath. “But don’t take too long to not make it easy. He’s not gonna wait forever, you know.”

Y/N felt her stomach do a little flip, but she quickly brushed it off. “I’m not waiting for anything,” she said, voice barely a whisper. “I’m just here to do my job.” Keisha and Imani looked at each other and shook their heads. “Uh-huh. Sure you are,” they chorused.

As the players took a break, Y/N finally pulled her eyes away from Joe, feeling the heat rise in her face. But she couldn’t ignore the way his gaze seemed to settle on her, even from across the field, a knowing, teasing look in his eyes. He wasn’t making this easy. Not at all. And maybe that was the point.

Imani and Keisha were still locked into their conversation, eyes glued to the field as Joe jogged past with his teammates. They were practically undressing him with their gazes. “I swear, Joe’s got the best ass on the team,” Keisha said, lowering her voice but still unable to contain her excitement. “How is that even real? It’s like... perfect.” Imani nodded, her gaze following him like a hawk. “I need to know what kind of workouts he’s doing, because damn, that boy knows how to keep it right.”

Y/N, who had been trying to stay focused on the drills and her responsibilities, rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the soft chuckle that escaped her lips. “Alright, alright, you guys are making it sound like he’s got some kind of supernatural power or something,” she teased, but her eyes still flicked to Joe, just for a second. It was like she couldn’t help herself. Keisha was practically fanning herself now, unable to stop the grin on her face. “Honestly, if I were him, I’d be wearing tighter pants just to make sure we all know exactly what we’re working with.”

Imani smirked at Keisha, and then they both turned to look at Y/N. “Girl, you saw it too. Don’t even try to act like you’re immune,” Imani said, nudging her playfully. “That man’s booty should come with a warning label.” Y/N laughed, shaking her head trying to play it off, but her eyes still followed him as he jogged effortlessly across the field. She couldn’t lie. The man had a way of making everything he did look effortless, including making her weak in the knees with just one look.

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh along, rolling her eyes dramatically. “I’m just saying, it’s a crime. A man shouldn’t be allowed to look like that and have a backside that could stop traffic.” She sighed, “Not fair.”

“Right?” Keisha agreed, her voice full of mock outrage. “Like, who does he think he is, walking around with all that?” Before more teasing could follow, the sharp whistle of the coach cut through the air, signaling a break. The players started jogging toward the sidelines, their voices rising as they joked and laughed, momentarily breaking from the intensity of the practice.

Y/N turned instinctively, her heart doing that stupid little flip in her chest when she saw Joe walking toward them, a grin already tugging at the corners of his mouth. As if on cue, her eyes locked with his. She couldn’t look away. The playful tension was there again, pulling at her like a magnetic force. She couldn’t help herself—she checked him out as he made his way over. Keisha giggled quietly, nudging Imani, while Imani smirked, clearly amused. “Oh, look at you,” Imani whispered, her voice full of teasing. “Seems like someone’s a little distracted.”

Y/N quickly broke her gaze away from Joe, her face flushing just a little. “I’m not,” she muttered, trying to act like she wasn’t completely caught up in the moment. “I was just... appreciating the view.” Keisha leaned over to Imani, speaking louder now so Y/N could hear. “Right. Just ‘appreciating.’ We all know what that means.”

Before Y/N could protest, Tee, Ja'Marr, and Joe approached. Tee, ever the instigator, noticed the three girls chatting and gave them a knowing grin. “What are you guys talking about so intensely over here? Planning something, or are you all just busy gossiping about us?” Imani tried not to laugh, leaning in with exaggerated seriousness. “Oh, nothing too important. Just discussing how some of you guys are out here making hearts skip beats and distracting everyone with your... unbelievable physiques.”

Keisha snickered at Imani’s mock-serious tone, but there was no mistaking who the conversation was really about. Joe raised an eyebrow and leaned against the fence, crossing his arms in that effortlessly cocky way of his. “What’s all this about, huh? You all talking about how hard it is to keep your eyes on the game?” His voice was playful, but there was something behind his words that sent a subtle shiver down Y/N’s spine. He knew exactly what he was doing to her.

Y/N smirked and shot him a half-glare. “Something like that,” she said, but her voice betrayed her. She was definitely not unaffected by his presence, and they both knew it. Tee, noticing the shift in the air, raised an eyebrow. “Damn, you guys really can’t keep it together, huh? It’s like you’re all obsessed with this guy,” he joked, nudging Joe with his shoulder. “Is this what happens when you’re too good-looking for your own good?”

Joe’s grin widened, and he shrugged casually. “Guess I’m just used to the attention.” But there was a vulnerability in his voice, something that made Y/N’s heart twist for a moment. Was he aware of the way they all watched him, or was he just putting up a confident front? Keisha, unable to hold back, leaned in with a teasing grin. “Who could blame us, though?” she said sweetly, her voice full of mock sincerity. “That ass isn’t the only thing that makes you stand out.”

Imani, looking at Y/N with a mischievous gleam in her eye, chimed in. “Y/N, don’t act like you’re not secretly in agreement,” she said, a smirk tugging at her lips. Joe caught Y/N’s reaction, his gaze locking with hers, and the electricity between them was undeniable. He leaned in slightly, dropping his voice just enough for her to hear, a teasing edge creeping in. “You’ve got a lot of thoughts, don’t you, Y/N?”

Y/N fought the warmth that spread through her at his words, but the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her. “No thoughts here. Just trying to keep it professional.” She couldn’t believe she was still trying to pretend she wasn’t affected by him. He had her completely wrapped around his finger, and he knew it. Joe raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the little game they were playing. “Uh-huh,” he murmured, clearly not convinced. He leaned back against the fence, his gaze lingering on her, that playful yet intense look never leaving his eyes.

Joe’s eyes never left hers, the tension between them palpable as he leaned back against the fence, his arms crossed casually. But there was nothing casual about the way his gaze swept over her, as if he could see right through the walls she tried so hard to put up. Y/N could feel the heat creeping up her neck, betraying the calm demeanor she was desperately clinging to. She shifted uncomfortably, trying to look away, but the pull of his stare was too strong. She was caught, completely and utterly.

“You know,” Joe started, his voice low and smooth, like honey, “if you’re trying to be all professional, you’re doing a pretty terrible job of it.” His lips curled into a grin, and Y/N could feel her heart flutter at the teasing, but also the weight behind his words. Was he teasing her? Or was he... flirting? She narrowed her eyes, hoping her attempt at playful deflection would throw him off, but it only made his grin widen. “I’m just making sure I don’t get distracted,” she said, her voice coming out a little too breathy for comfort. “I have a job to do.”

“Oh, I’m sure you do,” Joe said, voice thick with amusement. His eyes flickered down to her lips for a split second before returning to her eyes. The movement was so subtle, yet it didn’t escape her notice. He was enjoying this—too much. Y/N could feel her pulse quickening, the atmosphere between them thick with something unspoken. Every time she tried to focus, every time she tried to put distance between them, the way he looked at her made her feel like she was the only one in the world. It was so damn hard to ignore him, to pretend that this wasn’t affecting her just as much as it seemed to be affecting him. “I think you’re doing a good job of it, though,” Joe continued, his voice soft but teasing. “Trying to be all tough and professional. But I can see it. You’re not fooling anyone.”

Y/N opened her mouth to respond, but the words caught in her throat. She wasn’t fooling anyone. She wasn’t fooling him. And damn, she hated how he could read her like an open book, her every reaction on display for him to enjoy. Before she could come up with a comeback, Tee and Ja'Marr approached, clearly oblivious to the tension that hung in the air. Tee clapped Joe on the back, breaking the moment between them. “Come on, man, let’s go. We’ve been standing here long enough.” Joe gave Y/N one last look, his eyes smoldering with that mischievous, knowing gleam before he pushed off the fence. “We’ll continue this later, Y/N,” he said, his voice low, teasing—just for her.

Y/N felt the rush of heat across her face as she struggled to regain her composure. “Sure, later,” she muttered, doing her best to sound unaffected. But inside, she was a mess. Every part of her wanted to call out, pull him back, maybe even let him finish what they had started. But no—she couldn’t. She had to hold it together. Keisha and Imani, who had been watching the exchange quietly, exchanged knowing glances. Keisha raised her eyebrows as soon as Joe and the guys walked away. “Yooo, I’m not even gonna lie, Y/N. That was intense,” she said, her voice full of mock innocence. “Are we sure you’re not hiding a secret crush?”

Imani smirked, her eyes dancing with amusement. “We definitely know you’re not immune to Joe. The way you two were staring at each other? Girl, the tension could’ve cut with a knife.” Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the flush that was still on her cheeks. “You guys are crazy,” she said, but the playful edge in her voice didn’t escape either of them. “I just—he’s... he’s just distracting. That’s all.”

“Distracting, huh?” Imani said, clearly enjoying the way Y/N was trying to downplay it. “If he was any more distracting, you’d be the one getting in trouble.” Y/N sighed dramatically, crossing her arms. “Can we please just focus on the game and stop talking about Joe’s... distracting ass?”

Keisha grinned, nudging Imani. “Sure, sure. We’ll let you off the hook for now. But, girl, you definitely have a lot more than ‘professionalism’ on your mind when it comes to Joe.” Y/N glared at them, but deep down, she couldn’t argue with them. She knew she was playing a dangerous game. And the worst part? She didn’t even know if she wanted to stop. Every moment with Joe felt like a slow burn—intense, electric, and impossible to resist. As the practice resumed, Y/N forced herself to focus on the players again, but she could feel Joe’s presence looming, the weight of his gaze still burning against her skin. She knew one thing for sure: this wasn’t over. And she wasn’t sure if she wanted it to be.

♪♫•*¨*•.¸¸❤¸¸.•*¨*•♫♪

Joe had always been the center of attention. It came with the territory—he was a star player, and people were naturally drawn to him. But what made Y/N different, what made her stand out in the crowd, was the way she looked at him. It wasn’t the usual admiration or flirtation. No, hers was different. It was a quiet, magnetic pull. He could feel her eyes on him even when she thought he wasn’t looking, and that did something to him. Something he wasn’t willing to admit.

Every time their eyes met, it was like a silent game, a challenge neither of them was ready to fully play, but both of them were undeniably engaged in. Her gaze always lingered just a little longer than usual, her lips pressed together like she was holding back the thoughts that raced through her mind. He could see it in the way her breath would catch when she thought he wasn’t paying attention. He loved that about her—how she tried so hard to act like she didn’t care, but Joe could see right through her. And God, did that drive him crazy.

It was a game he’d been playing all afternoon during the drills. Every time he caught her looking his way, that small, fleeting look, his body seemed to wake up, as if on autopilot, drawn to her. The soreness in his muscles faded when he thought about how she watched him, how she made him feel like he was the only person in the room.

But it wasn’t just the way she looked at him—it was how she acted like she wasn’t. That made it all the more tantalizing, like a secret they were both trying to keep, but neither of them wanted to break. Not yet. When the break came, he couldn’t help himself. He’d been watching her talk with Keisha and Imani, her back slightly turned, and he noticed—again—that brief glance she threw his way, like she couldn’t resist looking at him just a little longer. His lips curved into a devilish grin.

He had to call her out on it. There was no way he was letting this moment slide. “Y/N,” he said her name slowly, letting the playful edge in his voice linger. She whipped around, caught off guard. Her eyes met his, and he caught the hesitation in her gaze. She didn’t know how to play this game with him. Not anymore. “What’s up, Joe?” she asked, trying to sound casual, but there was a slight tremor in her voice that made his grin widen.

He leaned against the fence, folding his arms, his eyes locked onto hers. “I couldn’t help but notice you checking me out earlier,” he teased, his voice smooth, as if it was just a passing observation. “You know, during those drills.” His gaze drifted slowly, deliberately, over her face and down to where her eyes had been focused moments before—right on his backside. “I gotta say, I’m flattered. You like what you see?”

Her eyes widened, then quickly snapped back into focus, but not before the blush crept up her neck, betraying her. Y/N tried to recover, crossing her arms and mimicking his stance, but the nervous energy in her posture gave her away. “I wasn’t checking you out,” she insisted, though the way her voice cracked just slightly told Joe everything he needed to know. “I was just looking around. Nothing special.” Joe stepped closer, narrowing the space between them just enough to make her breath hitch. “Uh-huh. Sure you were.” His voice dropped, becoming more intimate, more teasing. “But I think you were paying a little extra attention to me. Specifically, my backside.”

Y/N’s eyes flicked away, but Joe caught the brief hesitation. She was trying so hard not to react, but he could see the telltale signs. Her breath was uneven, her cheeks were flushed, and her lips were pressed tightly together like she was fighting to keep from smiling. “I’m just saying,” Joe continued, his voice dropping even lower, just for her. “If I had a body like that, I’d be looking too.” He leaned in closer, his lips just inches from her ear, his breath warm on her skin. “You’ve got some admiration going on, Y/N. Don’t even try to deny it. You can look and you can also touch baby, I’m all yours.”

Her breath hitched again, and Joe’s pulse quickened in response. She wasn’t saying anything, but he could feel the way her body reacted to his words. It was like a slow burn, and he couldn’t help but fuel it. Every inch of her seemed to pull him closer, even though she was still pretending to hold her ground. Y/N managed to swallow her words for a moment, trying to keep her composure. But before she could come up with a snarky comeback, Imani, ever the observant friend, called out, teasing them both. “Y/N, girl, he’s got you. You can’t even pretend you’re not into him.”

Y/N shot a glare at Imani, but Joe caught the way her lips trembled, fighting back a laugh. That was the thing about Y/N—she was always so composed, so in control, but he could see right through her. He always had, and it only made him want her more. He pulled back slightly, giving her a little space, but his smirk never faltered. “You know,” he said, his tone lowering even more, “if you keep looking at me like that, I might think you’re turning into a full-blown stalker.” He paused, letting the words hang in the air, before adding, “But don’t worry. I’m not complaining.”

Y/N let out a long breath, as if trying to exhale away the effect he had on her. “You’re so full of yourself, Joe,” she muttered, her voice sounding more annoyed than she probably intended. But Joe could see the corners of her lips twitching, like she was fighting a smile. And that only made him want to push her further.

“Yeah, well, I can’t help it,” he said, his grin widening. “I am that good.” He turned to walk away, but not before casting one last glance over his shoulder. He caught her staring at him again, her eyes glued to his back for just a second before she quickly looked away, as if she had been caught. Joe’s chest tightened, satisfaction flooding through him. He loved knowing he had that kind of effect on her.

But deep down, he knew this wasn’t over. The way she was reacting to him now? The way she couldn’t hide it? It was only a matter of time before they both cracked. And when that happened, nothing was going to stop either of them.

The tension was thick. And Joe? He was ready to see how far it would go. Y/N could feel the heat of Joe's words lingering long after he’d walked away. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and she fought to keep herself composed, though she could still feel the warmth of his breath on her ear. Damn him. Damn him for knowing exactly what to say to rattle her, to make her feel things she wasn’t ready to acknowledge. And the worst part? She didn’t even want him to stop.

She tried to shake it off as she turned back to Keisha and Imani, but she could still feel the pull of his presence, like a magnetic field that wouldn’t let her go. It was crazy how much power he had over her. The teasing, the tension between them—it was all too much. And what was worse, she had no idea how to fight it. Keisha shot her a sly smile. “Girl, you’ve got it bad. You could barely keep your cool back there.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, crossing her arms tightly over her chest as if to shield herself from the heat that was creeping up her neck. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she muttered, even though she was pretty sure the blush on her face told a different story. Imani chuckled from beside her. “You’re in denial, Y/N. I mean, the way you two look at each other? It’s like a telenovela in real life. I’m just waiting for the dramatic kiss to happen.”

Y/N groaned and buried her face in her hands. “Please, no. It’s nothing like that.” Keisha raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Uh-huh. Sure. You can lie to yourself, but you can’t lie to us. We both saw the way you reacted to him. You were practically melting under that smug smile of his.”

Y/N shot them both a glare, but it lacked any real bite. She wasn’t fooling anyone, least of all herself. Joe had a way of getting under her skin in a way no one else ever had, and she hated it. And loved it. And hated that she loved it. She forced herself to look away from them, trying to refocus on the practice, but all she could think about was Joe—his voice, the way he leaned in close, the smugness in his eyes. The way he looked at her, like he knew exactly how much he was messing with her head. And what made it worse was that part of her wanted him to keep doing it. She could feel her pulse quicken at the memory of their close encounter, the tension that had built up between them.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Imani’s voice, now full of mischief. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re hoping for more of those ‘check-ins’ with Joe. I mean, seriously, he’s practically begging you to give in.”

Y/N couldn’t even argue. The truth was, she was dangerously close to giving in. The way Joe looked at her, the way he could make her feel like the only person in the room—it was hard to ignore. And it was becoming harder to pretend it didn’t affect her. So much. “Can we just focus on the practice, please?” she said with a sigh, trying to brush them off, but there was no hiding the fact that she was still rattled from their exchange. She had to keep her distance, though. She couldn’t let Joe see how much he had rattled her. Not again.

But as practice continued, as the drills resumed, she kept feeling the weight of his gaze on her. Every now and then, when she’d glance up, she’d find him looking her way, like he was still playing some game, waiting for her to crack. And damn it, she felt like she was on the verge of doing just that. Every time she saw that cocky smirk of his, that playful gleam in his eyes, she wanted to lose herself in it. She wanted to stop pretending that she was unaffected, to give in to whatever this... thing was between them.

She bit her lip, trying to concentrate, but it was impossible. Joe had thrown her off balance, and the more she tried to regain her composure, the more he seemed to pull her in. And with each passing second, the tension between them only seemed to grow, thicker, hotter, like it was begging to snap. She didn’t know how much longer she could keep pretending it didn’t matter. And that terrified her. Because if she gave in, if she let herself fall for it... she didn’t know if she could ever come back from it.

The air in the equipment room was thick with the scent of sweat, grass, and the remnants of a long practice. Y/N and Imani worked side by side, sorting through the laundry, folding jerseys, and trying to ignore the lingering tension that had followed them since the field. Y/N couldn't help but feel the weight of it, that electric charge that seemed to hang between her and Joe, even though he was nowhere near. But even as she tried to focus on the task in front of her, she could feel his presence lingering in the back of her mind.

Suddenly, the door creaked open, and the sound of footsteps echoed in the room. Y/N’s head snapped up instinctively, even before she heard the familiar voices of Tee and Ja'Marr. She didn't need to look to know Joe was right behind them. Imani, clearly more at ease than Y/N, smiled at the guys as they strolled in, chatting casually. "You guys are stopping by to check on your laundry?" she teased, clearly in a playful mood.

Tee smirked. "You think we trust you to handle our jerseys? Please, we're just here for the vibe," he said, glancing over at Y/N, a cheeky smile on his face. But it wasn’t Tee’s teasing that caught Y/N’s attention—it was Joe. His eyes immediately found hers, like a magnet pulling them together. He leaned casually against the doorway, his arms folded, a smug look on his face. His gaze never wavered from her, and Y/N could feel her heart rate kick up a notch. It was like he was waiting for something—waiting for her to crack, to say something, to do something that would break the silent tension between them.

Imani nudged Y/N’s elbow, and Y/N quickly tore her eyes away from Joe’s piercing gaze. “You okay?” Imani whispered under her breath, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. Y/N shot her a sharp look, but it was obvious she couldn’t hide the flush creeping up her neck. “I’m fine,” she muttered, though the way her pulse raced gave her away.

Joe, sensing the moment, pushed off from the doorway and walked over to the laundry pile. He was too damn close, his presence radiating like a force field that made it impossible for Y/N to focus. “You girls got everything under control?” he asked, his voice low, teasing, like he knew exactly how much his proximity was affecting her.

His eyes never left hers, his smirk only deepening when he saw how she shifted, clearly uncomfortable but trying to act like she was fine. Y/N could feel her stomach tighten. “Yeah,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady. “We’re good. Just getting things sorted.”

Joe’s gaze never faltered, and a knowing glint danced in his eyes as he stepped even closer. He bent down to grab a football jersey from the pile, his arm brushing against hers as he straightened back up. The brief touch sent a jolt of electricity straight through her, but she didn’t let it show. At least, she tried not to. “Good. I’d hate for my jersey to be folded wrong.” His tone was playful, but the underlying meaning in his words wasn’t lost on Y/N.

Tee chuckled, clearly picking up on the tension. “You two sure you don’t have a secret thing going on?” he said, his tone light but teasing. “I can feel the heat from here.”

Y/N’s cheeks flushed even deeper, and she quickly glanced at Imani, who raised her eyebrows suggestively. She opened her mouth to say something, but before she could, her phone buzzed in her pocket. Grateful for the distraction, she quickly pulled it out and unlocked the screen. The notification made her heart skip a beat.

It was a text from Joe. Meet me back on the field. Now.

Her pulse spiked, and she froze for a moment, unsure of what to do. Was he serious? Of course, he was. She knew that look in his eyes—he wasn’t playing around anymore. She could feel the heat of his gaze still on her, even as she stood there reading the text. Imani noticed her hesitation. “What’s wrong? You gonna leave us with these guys?”

Y/N shook her head, swallowing hard. “No. Just… uh, I gotta go do something real quick.” She stuffed her phone back into her pocket, trying her best to sound nonchalant. Joe, who had been watching her closely, finally broke his silence, his voice low and steady, but with that undeniable teasing edge. “You gonna come, or are you gonna leave me hanging?” His words hung in the air like a challenge. Y/N’s breath hitched, her pulse quickening once again. She couldn’t hide the way his words made her feel—like he was pulling her in, inch by inch, until there would be no turning back.

With a final glance at Imani and Tee, Y/N straightened her back, trying to project confidence she wasn’t sure she felt. “I’ll be back in a minute,” she said, her voice steady despite the heat that coursed through her.

As she moved past Joe, his gaze followed her every step, and she could feel the weight of it, like an invisible tether pulling her closer to him. She tried to ignore the way her breath caught in her throat, but she couldn’t—he had a way of making her feel completely and utterly seen. The moment she reached the door, Joe’s voice called after her, softer now, but still laced with that same teasing tone. “Hurry up, Y/N. I’m waiting.”

Her pulse raced at the sound of his voice, and for a moment, she was paralyzed by the intensity of it all. But she couldn’t back out now. She turned, forcing a smile she didn’t quite feel. “Don’t worry, Joe. I’m coming.”

As she stepped out of the equipment room and made her way to the field, her mind raced, but one thing was certain—she wasn’t sure what was going to happen next, but she knew that whatever it was, it was going to change everything. The late afternoon sun filtered through the windows of the indoor practice facility, casting long, golden beams of light across the field. The buzz of the gym had started to quiet, the energy of the practice winding down as the players filed out, heading for their showers and to grab some rest. But Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling in the air. There was still this tension that hung between her and Joe, lingering in the space like an unanswered question. She tried to brush it off as she moved toward the locker room to grab her stuff, but she couldn’t ignore it.

The moment she stepped out, she saw Joe, his tall figure leaning against the wall, waiting by the benches. He had his eyes on her, as usual. And that gaze? It was different today. It wasn’t the usual playful teasing or the mischievous spark—it was more serious, more determined. The kind of look that made Y/N’s chest tighten, her heart beating just a little faster. She approached him, her steps slowing as she felt the weight of the conversation coming. Joe pushed himself off the wall when he saw her, his eyes never leaving hers.

“You know, I’ve been waiting for you,” he said with a soft chuckle, but his voice held a note of something deeper, something real that made Y/N feel vulnerable. “Yeah? I’ve been a little busy,” Y/N replied, her tone more nonchalant than she felt. She could feel her palms starting to sweat and wiped them on her jeans, trying to hide the nerves creeping up on her.

Joe stepped forward, his gaze unwavering. “You know what this is about, right?”

Y/N swallowed, trying to collect herself, but her stomach twisted in knots. She had a feeling this conversation was coming, and as much as she wanted to avoid it, she knew she couldn’t. Joe was determined, and when he was serious like this, it was impossible to ignore him. The weight of Joe's words hung heavily in the air, the space between them charged with something intense, something they both felt but hadn’t fully acknowledged. Y/N stood there, her chest tightening with every word he spoke. His serious tone, his steady gaze—it all pointed to one thing: Joe wasn’t playing around. But neither was she, or so she thought.

“I’m serious about you, Y/N,” Joe repeated, his voice unwavering. “I’m not here for some game. I want this. I want you. And I need to know if you feel the same way, because I can’t keep doing this back and forth. I need you to stop avoiding it.” The words struck her like a blow to the chest. She wasn’t avoiding anything. She was just trying to keep herself together. She wasn’t ready to let someone like Joe in—someone who could have anyone, but of all people, was choosing her. The thought made her stomach twist in knots.

Y/N felt the familiar prickling of frustration rise in her chest, and before she could stop herself, the words came spilling out. “I’m not avoiding anything!” Her voice was louder than she intended, sharp with defiance. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Joe. I’m just trying to keep my head on straight. I’m not some toy for you to play with.”

Joe’s brow furrowed, frustration flashing in his eyes. The teasing glint was gone now, replaced by something more raw, more real. “You are avoiding it, Y/N,” he said, the edge in his voice now unmistakable. “Don’t try to pretend like you’re not. You can’t keep pushing me away like this and acting like everything’s fine.” Y/N felt the heat rise to her cheeks, her hands curling into fists at her sides. Her heart raced, and it took everything in her to keep herself composed. “I’m not pushing you away,” she snapped, “I just don’t need this right now.”

Joe’s eyes narrowed. His jaw clenched, and for a split second, Y/N could see a flicker of vulnerability in his gaze before it was replaced with frustration. “Is this a game to you?” he asked, his voice lowering, but not losing its intensity. “Because if it is, if you’re just messing with me, then I’ll walk away right now. I won’t waste my time.” Y/N felt her breath catch. The accusation stung more than it should have. “I’m not playing games,” she shot back, her voice laced with irritation. “You don’t get it, Joe. I’m not some—some girl you can just charm and sweep off her feet. I don’t need this.”

Joe took a step closer, his face tightening with anger. “I get it, Y/N,” he said, his voice now dripping with frustration. “You’re scared. You’re scared of what we could be. And I’m tired of you running from it.” Her heart hammered in her chest as she took a step back, trying to create some space between them. But the anger inside her flared again, sharper than before. “I’m not scared of you, Joe. I’m not scared of anything,” she snapped, her voice bitter, the words coming out more harshly than she intended. “I just don’t need this drama. I don’t need you making me feel like shit for not jumping into whatever fantasy world you’ve got built up in your head.”

Joe stood there, his lips pressed into a thin line, his fists clenched at his sides. He was silent for a moment, taking in her words, and when he finally spoke, his tone was cold and deliberate.

“Fine. If that’s how you want it, Y/N. If you think it’s all just drama, then maybe I’m wasting my time here.” His eyes bore into hers, a challenge and pain mixed in his expression. “Maybe you don’t care about me at all. Maybe you’ve just been playing with me like I’m just some guy you can push around. If that’s what this is, then I’m done.”

The finality in his words hit her like a slap in the face. For a moment, Y/N didn’t know what to say. She didn’t want to admit it, but part of her wanted him to walk away. It would be easier—simpler. Safer. But she couldn’t deny the feeling that had been growing inside her, the pull toward him that she couldn’t resist no matter how hard she tried. “No,” she finally said, her voice quieter but no less biting. “That’s not it. You don’t get it. You think you know everything about me, but you don’t. And you’re not going to.” She turned her back on him, her chest heaving with the weight of everything she wanted to say and couldn’t.

Joe didn’t move at first. He just stood there, watching her, the tension thick between them. Y/N was trying so damn hard to keep it together, but the rush of emotion—anger, frustration, and the overwhelming desire to just let go—was too much. Without saying another word, Y/N spun on her heel and stormed off, her footsteps echoing in the quiet space of the indoor practice field. Her heart was pounding, her mind a blur of confusion and hurt, but she refused to turn around. She couldn’t.

Joe’s voice called out to her, but she didn’t stop. She couldn’t face him right now—not with everything swirling inside her. She wasn’t ready. Not yet. And maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t sure she’d ever be.

Y/N slammed the door to the equipment room behind her, the sound of it crashing against the wall echoing through the empty space. The sharp noise was a physical manifestation of the storm inside her—her heart racing, her mind spinning, her thoughts a jumbled mess. Imani and Keisha looked up in shock, immediately sensing the change in her. They exchanged a quick, silent glance before standing up, their concern etched on their faces.

“Y/N?” Keisha started cautiously, but the way Y/N’s shoulders tensed told her everything she needed to know. “Don’t,” Y/N snapped, her voice hoarse, barely keeping it together. She held up her hand, the gesture stopping them in their tracks before they could ask more. The last thing she wanted right now was to talk about that. About Joe. About the tension that had finally broken her.

Her stomach churned at the thought of him, his words, the way he’d looked at her. He’d gotten too close—too real—and now, everything felt like it was slipping through her fingers. She had let him in, she had let herself feel something for him, and now it was all a goddamn mess. Imani and Keisha exchanged another glance, concern and curiosity flickering between them. But Y/N didn’t give them the chance to probe further. She was already grabbing her things from the locker, her hands moving mechanically as if she were on autopilot, wanting to get out of there, wanting to escape the feelings that were making her head spin.

“Y/N,” Imani said, her voice soft but full of understanding, “what happened? Did you—did you talk to Joe?” Y/N froze for a moment, her heart skipping a beat at the mention of his name. She could still hear his voice in her head, feel the heat from his touch, the way his eyes had locked onto hers. That look, that damn look he gave her—it was impossible to shake.

She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to regain some semblance of control. But the knot in her stomach wouldn’t loosen. “I can’t do this,” she muttered to herself, more than to them. She swallowed hard, refusing to let them see the rawness she felt inside. Keisha stepped closer, her voice calm but firm. “Y/N, you know you can talk to us, right? If you need to—” “No,” Y/N cut her off, her voice sharp. She was done. Done with trying to explain, done with fighting what she was feeling. “I can’t. I—I just need to go. I need to be alone.”

With that, she grabbed her bag and stormed out of the room, leaving her friends standing there in stunned silence. The door shut behind her with a finality that seemed to echo in the stillness of the practice facility. Y/N’s steps were fast and purposeful as she made her way to the parking lot. She didn’t look back. She couldn’t. She’d let Joe get too close, and it was like stepping into a fire she couldn’t control. The intensity, the chemistry—it was real, and it terrified her.

Every part of her wanted to shut it down, to keep everything locked up tight. She had worked so hard to keep her heart safe, to keep the walls around it intact. But somehow, Joe had found a way through, and now she wasn’t sure if she could rebuild them. She reached her car and practically threw herself inside, slamming the door shut as if that would somehow shield her from the whirlwind inside her head. She sat there for a few moments, hands gripping the steering wheel, eyes staring straight ahead.

“Why me?” she whispered to herself. Why did he have to make me feel this way? Her heart ached at the thought of him—his eyes, his smile, the way he had leaned in so close to her, the weight of his words still echoing in her mind. The intensity of everything between them was suffocating, but at the same time, it was intoxicating. She shook her head, trying to clear the thoughts that were spinning in her mind, but she couldn’t. She had to stop thinking about him. She couldn’t afford to feel anything for Joe, not when she knew it could all come crashing down.

With one last heavy sigh, Y/N started the engine, the sound of it roaring to life in the quiet evening. She pulled out of the parking lot, not looking back, not even once. But deep down, she knew that the more she tried to run from it, the more she would be drawn back to him. Because no matter how hard she tried to avoid it, one truth remained: Joe was never going to let her go.

Y/N’s apartment was silent as she slammed the door behind her, the sound of it echoing through the small space. She tossed her bag onto the couch, her movements sharp, filled with frustration. She stormed over to the kitchen, yanked open the fridge, and grabbed a bottle of water, needing something to calm her down, even if only for a moment. But the peace didn’t last long. As soon as she set the bottle down on the counter, her phone vibrated on the table, buzzing like it was trying to get her attention. It was Imani. Then Keisha. Then Imani again. The messages kept coming, rapid-fire, her screen lighting up with texts from her friends.

Imani: “Girl, what happened? You good?”

Keisha: “Are you ok? We can’t just let you walk out like that. What happened with Joe?”

Imani: “Y/N? Come on, talk to us. Did he say something? What the hell went down?”

Y/N’s jaw tightened as she read each message, a deep frown settling on her face. She didn’t want to talk about it. Not now, not ever. She tossed the phone back onto the counter, a rush of heat flooding her chest. Who the hell did Joe think he was?

Her hands balled into fists, her mind replaying the argument over and over. His words echoing in her head. “I’m serious about you.” “If this is all just a game to you, I’ll walk away.”

What kind of game did he think she was playing?

She had tried so hard to keep her walls up. So hard to protect herself from the kind of emotional mess that Joe was offering. She was smart enough to know better than to get involved with someone like him. He could have anyone. He was a star player, for god’s sake. He didn’t need someone like her—a mess of contradictions, someone who wasn’t ready to hand over her heart to anyone, let alone a guy who could turn her world upside down with just a look.

But he had gotten too close. That look in his eyes earlier, when he was serious—too serious—about wanting her, about making things real, had made her heart race in a way she wasn’t prepared for. She had tried to pull away, but the more she did, the more he seemed to push. And the worst part? She liked it. She hated how much she liked it.

Her thumb hovered over her phone, the temptation to text back gnawing at her. She could send something to calm them down, let them know she was fine. But she knew she wasn’t fine. She wasn’t even close to fine. Her chest tightened as she picked up her phone, her eyes scanning the screen one more time. What was he playing at? She dropped the phone back onto the counter, her breath shaky.

The truth was, she wasn’t mad about what he’d said, not really. She was mad because he had called her out on something she hadn’t even been brave enough to admit to herself. He had been right. She was avoiding it. Avoiding him. Because deep down, she was terrified. Terrified that if she let him in, if she let herself believe that maybe—maybe—there could be something between them, she’d lose control. She couldn’t lose control. She couldn’t let herself fall for him, not when she knew it would be the hardest thing she’d ever do.

Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling of his presence, the way he had looked at her with so much intent. The way his eyes had burned into hers, telling her that he wasn’t going anywhere. That he wasn’t done with her yet. And for a brief, fleeting second, she almost wanted to let him. Almost. But she wasn’t ready to admit that. Not to herself, not to him, and certainly not to anyone else.

She turned away from her phone and walked over to the window, staring out at the fading light of the afternoon. Who did Joe think he was? And more importantly, who did she think she was kidding? She was already too deep. She had already let herself get too close. And if she was being honest with herself, she didn’t know how long she could keep running from it. But for now, she wasn’t ready to face it.

Not yet. With a sharp exhale, she grabbed her phone again and shut it off, tossing it onto the couch. She needed to think, to clear her head, even if it was for just a little while longer. But one thing was clear: this wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

♪♫•*¨*•.¸¸❤¸¸.•*¨*•♫♪

Joe stood there, his fists clenched at his sides, watching as Y/N stormed off the field, her exit sharp and filled with anger. The adrenaline from the argument still pumped through his veins, but it wasn’t the same kind of rush he was used to. No, this was different. The anger that had flashed in her eyes, the frustration, it burned through him in a way he wasn’t prepared for.

He had told her. He’d been clear. He wasn’t playing games anymore, not with her. He was serious about her. But that didn’t seem to make a damn bit of difference. If anything, it seemed to push her away further. It was the last thing he wanted to do, but she had left him with no choice. She was running from him. She was running from what was happening between them, and he couldn’t stand it. He couldn’t stand the distance between them, couldn’t stand the way she was trying to pretend like none of this mattered.

“Why are you avoiding this, Y/N?” He had asked her that, and she had snapped back at him, denying it. But he knew better. He saw the way she held back, the way she tried to keep him at arm’s length. And he knew it wasn’t because of some game. No. She was scared. She was scared of getting hurt, of letting him in, and that hurt him more than he cared to admit. His thoughts swirled, and the tension in his chest only grew the longer he stood there. He hated the way she shut down every time he tried to get close. He hated that she was trying to act like she didn’t want this, didn’t want him.

What the hell had happened between them? The whole thing had started so damn easily—some playful teasing, some heated looks, and then bam, he was tangled up in her. He couldn’t even remember how they’d gotten here. All he knew was that it didn’t feel like a game anymore. Not for him. And damn it, it shouldn’t have felt like a game for her either.

He ran a hand through his hair, pacing across the field as the sun dipped lower in the sky, the fading light casting long shadows. The anger had faded to something deeper now—something more painful. Frustration. It was all bottled up inside him, and the only person who could let him get it out was standing right there in front of him. But she had walked away. She’d stormed off, leaving him here, wondering if he had pushed too hard. Wondering if he had said the wrong thing.

Damn it, Joe, what the hell did you expect? He knew what he wanted. He wanted her. He had wanted her for so long now, but he hadn’t been able to push past the walls she kept up around herself. She was so guarded, and for what? He wasn’t going anywhere. He was serious about this. But she didn’t seem to believe him, didn’t seem to trust him, and that pissed him off in a way he hadn’t expected. He had made it clear, damn it. He had made it clear that he wasn’t some guy who was just playing around with her. He wasn’t just looking for a quick fling or some easy distraction. He had told her—he wanted more.

But she wouldn’t let him in. And that hurt more than he wanted to admit. With a frustrated grunt, he turned and headed back to the locker room. His mind was still racing, his heart still pounding in his chest, but he had no idea how to fix this. He couldn’t just let it go, not when things had gotten so complicated. Not when the feelings between them were so undeniable.

What the hell was she so afraid of? He knew she had feelings for him. He could see it in the way she looked at him, in the way her breath hitched when he got close. But every time he tried to close the gap between them, she pulled away. He wasn’t sure if it was her own fear or something else. All he knew was that he wasn’t going to give up on this. Not now. Not after everything they had shared.

As he entered the locker room, the noise of the guys chatting, laughing, and going about their business felt distant. It was like there was this thick barrier between him and everything else. All he could think about was Y/N. Her storming off. The anger on her face. The way she refused to let herself feel. He wanted to break through that barrier. He wanted to make her understand that he was real, that they were real.

But first, he needed to figure out what the hell was going on inside of her. It wasn’t over. Not by a long shot. He wasn’t about to let her walk away without giving this one last shot.

And this time, he was going to make sure she knew it.

Tee and Ja'Marr exchanged a look as soon as they saw Joe walk into the locker room. The change in his demeanor was impossible to ignore. Normally, Joe was all swagger and confidence, always cracking jokes and leading the charge. But today? He was different. His shoulders were slumped, his eyes distant, and he had that familiar tension in his jaw that they both knew too well. Something was off, and they could tell it had nothing to do with practice.

Tee, ever the perceptive one, was the first to speak up. “Yo, Joe. You good, man?” he asked, his voice calm but laced with concern. Joe barely looked up, his eyes focused on his phone as he scrolled absently. He didn’t even bother to respond right away, which was enough to send a signal to both Tee and Ja'Marr. Something was definitely bothering him.

Ja'Marr, who had been silently observing, leaned against the lockers with a casual smirk. “Come on, bro. You’re giving us that ‘I’m fine, don’t talk to me’ vibe, and we both know that’s never a good sign.” Joe glanced up at them for a split second, then sighed. His fingers ran through his hair, tugging slightly at the roots, and that was all the invitation they needed.

“You wanna talk about it?” Tee asked gently. “We know you’re not one to spill, but you look like you need to get something off your chest.” Joe hesitated, then shrugged like it was nothing. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.” But the words felt hollow even to him.

Ja'Marr didn’t buy it. He nudged Tee and nodded toward the corner of the locker room where a ball had been left lying around. “Man, you know the drill. Grab the ball. Let’s take him to the field. Get him out of here for a bit.” Tee grinned, already picking up the football and tossing it lightly between his hands. “Come on, bro. We both know you can’t lie to us for long. You’re not getting away that easy.” Joe shot him a sharp look, but it lacked the usual fire. He wanted to brush it off. He really did. But there was something about having Tee and Ja'Marr around, the way they knew him so well, that made him feel like maybe it was time to talk. They weren’t going to let him bottle it up.

With a heavy sigh, Joe grabbed his own gear and walked out with the two of them, heading to the practice field where the evening light was beginning to dip lower in the sky. The quiet of the field made it easier for him to breathe, to clear his head, away from the noise and chaos of the locker room. The trio settled on the sideline, the familiar smell of fresh grass and the quiet hum of the facility surrounding them. Tee tossed Joe the football, and the rhythmic sound of the ball thudding against Joe's hands was the only noise for a moment. He threw it back and forth with Ja'Marr, but the entire time, his mind kept wandering back to Y/N.

Finally, after a long pause, Ja'Marr spoke, his tone serious. “You know we’re not gonna let you keep this shit inside forever, right?” Joe threw the ball harder than he meant to, the force sending it spiraling off toward the corner of the field, but he didn’t care. The frustration that had been building inside of him needed to be released. He stood there for a moment, watching the ball bounce across the grass.

“I don’t know what to do with her, man,” Joe muttered, his voice low. Tee and Ja'Marr exchanged knowing glances. They had both suspected it. They had seen the way Joe’s eyes lit up when he talked about Y/N, and how he always found excuses to be near her, whether it was during practice or after hours. But they’d also seen the tension, the push and pull between them.

“You’ve been saying you’re serious about her,” Tee said softly, dribbling the ball between his fingers. “But it looks like she’s not on the same page. What happened?” Joe’s gaze dropped to the ground, his frustration palpable. “She… she’s scared. I can see it. Every time I try to push her closer, she pulls back. She’s running from this… from me.” Ja'Marr leaned back, taking a deep breath. “You can’t make her give in, Joe. That’s the thing. You want to be serious, but she has to want it too. If she’s not ready, if she’s not feeling the same way—then you’ve gotta give her space. Not make her feel like she’s got no choice but to jump in.”

Joe kicked the dirt with the toe of his cleats. “I know. But I can’t help it. The more she pulls away, the more I want to make her see how real this is. I’m not just playing around with her, but damn if it doesn’t feel like she thinks I am. It’s like… like I’m losing her before I even get a chance.” Tee caught the ball, throwing it lightly to Ja'Marr. “Bro, you gotta stop trying to fix it all in one go. You’re pushing too hard. If you really want this with her, you need to slow down and let her come to you on her own terms. She’s been hurt before, hasn’t she?”

Joe nodded, the truth hanging heavy between them. “Yeah, she has. But that’s not my fault, is it? I’m not like those other guys.” Ja'Marr shook his head. “No, you’re not. But sometimes it’s hard to believe that when someone’s been burned a few times already. You can’t just tell her you’re different—you gotta show her.”

There was silence for a moment, and Joe just stared off into the distance. The cool breeze ruffled his hair as he processed his friends' words. He knew they were right. He knew he couldn’t keep pushing. But it wasn’t easy. Not when everything inside of him told him that Y/N was worth fighting for. “I just don’t want to lose her,” Joe finally admitted, his voice almost a whisper. “I feel like we’re so close, but she’s... she’s not letting me in. And I don’t know how to get past that.”

Tee put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. “You’ll get there, man. Just take it one step at a time. Don’t try to rush it. If she’s meant to be with you, she’ll get there too. But you’ve gotta show her you’re worth it.” Joe nodded, his chest heavy but his resolve strengthening. He wasn’t ready to give up on Y/N. Not now. Not ever. He just needed to figure out how to break through her walls without pushing her further away. As they threw the ball back and forth in the fading light, Joe felt a little clearer, a little more grounded. It wasn’t over. Not by a long shot. But this time, he knew he had to do it right.

Joe sat in his office at home, the late afternoon light casting long shadows across his desk. His laptop sat open in front of him, but he wasn’t even looking at the screen anymore. His mind kept circling back to Y/N. The conversation they’d had earlier still felt like it was echoing in his head, the words lingering, pulling at him, making his chest tight. He ran a hand through his hair, staring at the papers in front of him without seeing them. How had they gotten here? Why had it all turned into this? He didn’t know how to fix it, didn’t know where to start. The tension between them was suffocating, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t seem to break through whatever wall she had built up.

The sound of his phone ringing pulled him out of his thoughts. He glanced down at the screen and saw his mom’s name pop up. A small smile tugged at his lips. Robin always had a way of knowing when something was off, and maybe, just maybe, she’d be able to talk him through it. “Hey, Mom,” Joe answered, trying to keep his voice steady. “Hey, baby,” Robin’s warm voice came through, the tone light, but with a hint of concern. “How’s everything going? How was practice?”

Joe slumped back in his chair, rubbing the back of his neck. “It was alright. You know, the usual.” Robin was quiet for a moment, and Joe could almost hear the wheels turning in her mind. She knew him better than anyone, could tell when something was wrong, even over the phone. After a beat, she sighed softly, a sound that spoke volumes. “Alright, out with it,” she said, her voice gentle but firm. Joe froze, her words hitting him like a wave. He hesitated, then let out a long breath, running his fingers over the edge of his desk as he tried to gather his thoughts. “What do you mean?” he asked, trying to play it off, but even he knew it was a weak attempt.

Robin didn’t bite. “You know exactly what I mean, Joe. I can tell when something’s on your mind. And I know my son. So come on, spill it.” Joe chuckled softly, though it didn’t carry any real amusement. “You really know me too well, huh?” His mom let out a light laugh of her own, but then it softened, and he could feel the concern coming through in her voice. “You’re not yourself right now, and I can tell it’s more than just practice. So, what’s going on? Is it something with the team, or is it something... personal?”

Joe’s chest tightened. Of course she would know. She always did. He rubbed his eyes, trying to find the right words. He couldn’t keep hiding it from her. “Mom, it’s... it’s this girl I’ve been seeing,” Joe started, the words feeling strange on his tongue. He’d never really talked to her about anything like this before. “Her name’s Y/N. And I—I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.”

There was a moment of silence on the other end, and then Robin’s voice softened. “Tell me what happened, baby.” Joe leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk as he let out a deep breath. “We’ve been talking for a while, and I thought things were going well, but today… today it all just blew up. We were on the field after practice, and I tried to talk to her. I’ve been serious about her, Mom, and I told her that. I don’t want to play games anymore. But she... she just... snapped. She said I was pushing too hard, that I was avoiding it, and it turned into this big argument.”

Robin’s voice was soft, but there was understanding in it. “What do you mean by ‘pushing too hard,’ Joe?” Joe let out a frustrated breath, running a hand through his hair again. “I don’t know. I’m serious about her, Mom. I want to make this work. But she keeps pulling away. Every time I try to get closer, she shuts down. And it’s like, the more I try, the more she backs off. I don’t know if she’s scared or if she’s just not ready, but it’s driving me crazy. I feel like I’m losing her before I even really had a chance to have her, you know?”

He could hear Robin taking in everything he was saying, her silence thoughtful. Then, after a moment, she spoke again. “Joe, you’ve got to understand something. You can’t force someone to feel something they’re not ready to feel. You’re pushing her, I get that, but maybe she’s not ready to let you in fully. And that’s okay. It doesn’t mean she doesn’t care about you—it just means she’s not where you are yet. Maybe she’s scared too.”

Joe let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head even though she couldn’t see him. “Yeah, but why me, Mom? Why would she be scared of me? I’m not some player. I’m not like the other guys she’s been with. I want this. I want her. So why is she pulling away?” Robin’s voice was gentle but firm, like she was trying to make him see something he was missing. “Because you’re different. And sometimes, different can be scary. You’re a big deal, Joe. You’re used to people falling for you, admiring you, but that doesn’t mean Y/N will be ready to just dive into something with you without hesitation. She’s probably scared of how real it feels, because maybe, just maybe, she knows this could be the real deal. And it terrifies her. The closer you get, the harder it becomes to keep those walls up.”

Joe stared out the window, the quiet of his office filling the space between his thoughts. He wasn’t sure if he liked the sound of what she was saying. “But I don’t want to lose her, Mom. I don’t want to mess this up. I think she’s it. I think she’s the one. But I don’t know how to make her see that.” Robin’s voice softened again, filled with warmth and love. “You don’t need to rush it, Joe. If she’s the one, she’ll see that. But you’ve got to give her the space to come to that conclusion on her own. Love isn’t something you can force. It’s something you have to nurture, let it grow naturally. If you’re meant to be with her, you will be. But pushing her will only make her pull further away.”

Joe let out a long breath, feeling a little bit lighter but still burdened by the weight of the situation. “Yeah… you’re right. I guess I just wish it didn’t have to be so hard.” Robin chuckled softly. “Love isn’t always easy, honey. But it’s worth it, when it’s the real thing. And from what I can tell, you care about her a lot. That’s a good start.” Joe smiled faintly, his heart a little less heavy than before. “Thanks, Mom. I needed to hear that.”

“Anytime, baby,” Robin replied warmly. “Just take it slow. Give her time. And whatever happens, I’m here for you.” Joe let out another breath, feeling a weight lifted off his shoulders. “Thanks. I’ll figure it out.” As he hung up the phone, he leaned back in his chair, thoughts swirling. Maybe he didn’t have all the answers yet, but he was starting to understand what he needed to do. He wouldn’t give up on Y/N, but he had to be patient. He had to let her come to him, not force it. If she was the one—he had to trust that she’d see it too.

♪♫•*¨*•.¸¸❤¸¸.•*¨*•♫♪

Y/N was curled up on the couch, a plate of takeout in her lap and a bottle of soda by her side as she watched Baddies Midwest. Her brain had been on autopilot all day, trying to distract herself from the chaos in her mind. Every time she thought about what had happened earlier, her chest tightened. Joe’s words kept echoing in her head, and she hated how much they affected her. She had been trying to avoid thinking about him, but it was impossible.

Just as a particularly dramatic moment unfolded on screen, the sound of someone pounding on her door broke through her thoughts. She paused the TV, exhaling sharply before dragging herself off the couch. As she opened the door, she wasn’t surprised to see Imani and Keisha standing there, both with their own bags of takeout in hand, clearly ready to settle in for an impromptu hangout.

Before she could even greet them, they brushed past her, barging into the apartment like they owned the place. “What the hell?” Y/N muttered, rolling her eyes as she closed the door behind them. “What are you two doing here?” Imani shot her a look, hands on her hips, her voice dripping with sass. “Don’t think you can just ignore us or snap at us whenever you feel like it,” she said, her tone firm, but tinged with concern. “We’re here because we’re your best friends, Y/N. So don’t even try to act like you’re fine, because we know you’re not.”

Keisha plopped down on the couch with an exaggerated sigh, tearing open her bag of food. “Yeah, girl. You didn’t even let us know what was going on. We’re not just some side pieces you can push around when you get pissed.” Y/N stood there, caught somewhere between exasperation and guilt. She didn’t want to talk about what had happened—she didn’t even know where to begin. But the way they were looking at her, the way they cared, made her heart twist in her chest.

“Seriously?” Y/N snapped, trying to keep her voice steady, though she couldn’t hide the trace of frustration. “I don’t need a lecture from you two right now.” Imani wasn’t backing down. She set her bag down on the counter with purpose and turned to face Y/N. “Oh, trust me, you do need one. Now sit your ass down and tell us what happened today. You stormed off the field like a damn tornado. What got your panties in such a twist, huh?” Y/N bit her lip, momentarily looking away. The anger was still there, bubbling under the surface, but now it felt a little more complicated than just being mad at Joe. She didn’t want to talk about it, didn’t want to admit that she had been caught up in something she didn’t know how to handle.

Y/N stared at Imani and Keisha, feeling the weight of their expectant gazes. They weren’t going to let this go until they got the full story, and she knew it. Sighing, she dropped her shoulders and slumped back against the couch, looking at the ceiling. She needed to say something, but she wasn’t sure how to even begin. “Okay, fine,” she muttered, running a hand through her hair in frustration. “So, Joe and I were talking on the field earlier today, and he... he said he’s serious about me. Like, he wants something real. He said all that, like it’s no big deal, and I—I just couldn't handle it. I freaked out.”

Imani’s eyes widened, and she leaned forward, ready to pounce on the explanation, but Y/N wasn't done. “He was asking about... us. And I didn’t know what to say. I tried to keep it casual, tried to play it cool, but he kept pushing. And I—I just couldn’t. I wasn’t ready for him to be so serious about it, and I...” Y/N trailed off, swallowing the lump that was suddenly in her throat. “I ran. I didn’t know what else to do.” Before she could continue, Imani cut her off, her voice thick with disbelief. “So you ran off while that hunk of a man is trying to love you? For why, Y/N?” She shook her head, pressing a hand to her forehead dramatically. “Girl, you know darn well that if he wasn’t serious about you, he would've dropped you the night you two kissed and it didn’t lead anywhere. But he didn’t, Y/N. He stayed. He’s still here. And you’re pushing him away?”

Y/N shook her head quickly, a frown tugging at her lips as she tried to defend herself. “It’s not that simple. You don’t get it,” she said, her voice low but insistent. “There’s more to it than just him being serious. I have a lot of things I need to figure out. I don’t know what he really wants from me, and honestly, I don’t even know what I want from him.” Keisha didn’t let up. “How isn’t it simple, Y/N? The both of you are so into each other. I mean, I can feel the tension when you two are together. You’re always making eye contact, always finding ways to be near each other. And don’t even try to say it’s just friendly because it’s not. You can see it in the way you both act. So why not let it happen? Why fight it?”

Y/N took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment settle in her chest. She didn’t want to go down this path, didn’t want to dredge up the painful memories that had shaped so much of who she was. But with her best friends sitting in front of her, waiting for the truth, she knew it was time to finally let them in. Time to share the part of her that she had kept locked away, the part that had shaped her into the person she had become. "You guys know what happened between Trey and I," Y/N began, her voice quiet but steady. She could feel the familiar knot in her throat as she spoke his name.

Trey and Y/N had been inseparable since middle school. They were the kind of couple that everyone admired—young love, full of hope and promise. By the time they graduated high school, they had already started planning their future together. Trey had already proposed to Y/N the year before, and they had been making arrangements for their wedding that was supposed to take place that year. They had talked about growing old together, about buying a house somewhere quiet and beautiful where they could spend their days, watching their grandkids run around the yard. Y/N had always imagined herself with him, hand in hand, for the rest of her life.

Trey had been her first everything—the first person she truly loved, the first person she trusted completely, the first person to make her feel like she had found her soulmate. He was the one who had shown her what real love was, the one who had shaped her understanding of what it meant to be cared for and cherished. They had been through it all together—high school, graduation, the dreams of a shared future. Their love had always felt like it was written in the stars.

He had been her first love, her first kiss, her first real sense of belonging with someone. They had spent their teenage years daydreaming about their future, planning for a life that felt like it was already written. They had never doubted it—they were going to be together, no matter what life threw their way. Their bond felt unbreakable. Trey had been everything to her: her partner, her best friend, the person who knew her more deeply than anyone else ever could. Y/N had always believed that they would grow old together, laugh about their high school memories when they were older, and maybe even travel the world one day. But, of course, life doesn’t always go as planned. Trey was taken from her in a flash—shot dead in a senseless act of violence. It wasn’t anything that made sense, no good explanation, no reason that could bring any comfort. It wasn’t a gang-related incident or a targeted attack—it was just a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, caught in the crossfire of a violent world that didn’t care. Trey’s death shattered Y/N in a way nothing else ever could.

The heartbreak was unlike anything she had ever known. She had been ready to spend the rest of her life with him, ready to walk down the aisle and start their family. Now, all of those dreams seemed impossible, and Y/N was left picking up the pieces of a future that no longer existed. Trey had been her first everything, and the idea of losing that kind of love, the kind of connection she had with him, was something she couldn't fathom.

It’s been three years since that day. Three long years of pretending to move on, of holding it together in front of everyone, while inside, she still felt like she was drowning in grief. On the surface, she had rebuilt her life. She kept busy with work, with friends, and kept herself occupied with everything except what she really needed to face—the pain. But deep down, she couldn’t let go. The walls she had put up after Trey’s death were still there, fortified and unbreakable. She hadn’t let herself open up to anyone else, not in the way she had with him. Because how could she? How could she let herself love again when she had lost the one person who meant everything to her? She was terrified of feeling that kind of loss again—of giving her heart away and having it ripped from her just like before.

And now, with Joe, all those feelings, all those fears, were surfacing again. The attraction, the pull she felt toward him—it was undeniable. But the idea of getting too close to him, of allowing herself to fall for him, terrified her. Because what if she lost him too? How could she risk that again? How could she trust that someone could love her the way Trey had? She didn’t know if she was strong enough to face that kind of hurt a second time.

Imani and Keisha sat there, quiet and attentive, watching as Y/N’s tears began to form, threatening to fall. She wiped them away quickly, not wanting to give in to the raw emotion building inside of her. Keisha reached out and placed a hand on her friend’s arm, her voice gentle but firm. “Y/N, I can’t even imagine what that pain must’ve been like. Losing someone you loved like that...” Her words trailed off as she squeezed Y/N’s arm, offering a silent comfort. “But that’s not all,” Y/N said, shaking her head as if to dismiss the weight of her past. “There’s something else. It’s the fact that I’m five years younger than Joe. He’s this big, successful guy—he’s got everything going for him, and I... I’m just me. I don’t want him to look at me one day and realize I’m not enough, that I can’t give him what he deserves. That I’m too young, too inexperienced, too broken for him to actually want to be with me.”

Imani opened her mouth to speak, but Y/N raised her hand, halting her. She needed to say it all, to let it all out before it suffocated her. “I’m scared, okay?” Y/N’s voice cracked. “I’m scared that if Joe gets too close, really close, and he sees who I am, the real me, the broken pieces of me... he won’t want me. And I’m terrified that life is just going to rip him away from me the same way it ripped Trey away. Just... just like that. Gone. And I don’t know if I can go through that again. I don’t know if I can love someone else and have that be taken from me.”

Y/N’s breath hitched as she tried to hold back the sobs that were threatening to break free. But it was too much. She couldn’t stop it anymore. The dam she’d built to hold back the pain, the grief, and the fear was finally breaking, and she let the tears fall freely, not caring how vulnerable she was in front of her friends. Imani and Keisha didn’t say a word at first. They just wrapped their arms around her, pulling her close as she sobbed into their shoulders. Keisha rubbed her back softly, while Imani whispered comforting words into her ear, both of them offering the support Y/N had so desperately needed but hadn’t known how to ask for.

“You don’t have to carry this all alone, Y/N,” Keisha murmured. “We’re here for you, no matter what.” Imani nodded, her voice soft and understanding. “You’re allowed to be scared, Y/N. But you don’t have to shut everyone out. Especially Joe. You’re not broken. You’re just hurting, and that’s okay. He’s not going to run. Not if he’s really serious about you. And I think... I think he is.” Y/N sniffed, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand as she pulled away slightly to look at her friends. “But what if he isn’t? What if I give him everything, and he still leaves? I can’t handle that. I can’t go through that again.”

Imani looked her square in the eye, her gaze firm but full of love. “You don’t know unless you let yourself be open to it. But I know Joe. And he wouldn’t be pushing this if he wasn’t all in. He wants you, Y/N. And you deserve that.” Y/N bit her lip, trying to hold it together. She didn’t want to be this vulnerable. She didn’t want to let anyone see how much fear had been eating away at her. But in this moment, surrounded by the people who loved her, she realized how much she was holding back from herself—and how much she was missing by not letting Joe in.

She let out a shaky breath, wiping her eyes again. “I don’t know what to do,” she whispered, the weight of it all pressing on her chest. “I want to be with him. But I’m scared.” Keisha smiled softly, reaching over to squeeze her hand. “It’s okay to be scared. But don’t let that fear stop you from having something real. Something good. You deserve that, Y/N. Don’t push him away. You’ve been through enough. Let someone love you, let someone in.”

Y/N shook her head, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. "I know you both mean well, but you don’t understand. How do I let someone else in when I’m still haunted by the fear of losing them? How do I open up to Joe when I’m scared that life is just going to take him away too, just like it took Trey? What if I let him get too close, and something happens? What if history repeats itself?" Her voice cracked on the last sentence, and the tears started to flow again, this time uncontrollably. She quickly wiped them away, her breath shallow, trying to calm herself.

Imani and Keisha didn’t push her to stop. They were there, ready to listen, ready to support her through this moment of vulnerability. Keisha placed a hand on Y/N’s, her grip firm and reassuring. "You don’t have to be scared, Y/N. It’s not the same. Joe isn’t Trey. And yeah, you’ve been through hell, but that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to have something real. Something good. He’s not going anywhere unless you push him away. And I don’t think you want to do that."

Y/N looked down at Keisha’s hand on hers, the warmth of her touch grounding her, reminding her that she wasn’t alone in this. Imani leaned in as well, her voice gentle but insistent. "Joe cares about you, Y/N. We can see it, even if you’re too scared to admit it. He’s not like Trey. You’re not going to lose him if you let him in. You’re stronger than you think, and you deserve the chance to have something real. You deserve to let yourself love again."

Y/N closed her eyes, fighting the wave of emotions that threatened to drown her. She didn’t know if she was ready to take that leap, to let Joe in and risk everything. But at that moment, with her friends by her side, she realized that maybe, just maybe, she could try. Maybe it was time to let go of the past, to stop letting fear control her heart. Y/N wipes her eyes and sighs deeply, trying to collect her thoughts as she looks up at Imani and Keisha. She knows they’re waiting for her to say something else, to open up more, but for now, she just needs a break. She can’t keep talking about Joe and her feelings; she’s not ready to process everything yet.

“I think... I just need space,” Y/N says quietly, almost as if saying it aloud makes it more real. Her voice is soft, but the weight of her words hangs heavily in the air. Imani and Keisha exchange a glance, both of them clearly not satisfied with the answer, but neither of them press it. They know Y/N, and they know when she’s not ready to talk. It’s clear she’s struggling with something deep, but they also understand that pushing her won’t help.

Imani shrugs, leaning back into the couch with a sigh. “Alright, we won’t push it,” she says, a little resigned, but she can’t hide the concern in her eyes. Keisha nods in agreement. “We’re here for you, always. Just... take the time you need.” Y/N offers them a small smile, thankful for their understanding. She’s lucky to have friends like them—friends who get it. But even with them there, she still feels like she’s carrying a heavy weight. The conversation with Joe earlier replays in her mind, over and over again, and the knot in her chest tightens with every thought.

Imani, clearly sensing the need to lighten the mood, grabs the remote from the coffee table and presses play. “Alright, enough of the heavy stuff. Let’s just watch some Baddies Midwest and eat our food. We need to get our mind off all this drama.” As the show resumes, the loud chatter of reality TV and the girls' lighthearted banter fills the space around them. Imani picks up her takeout, grinning. “Honestly, I can't believe these people. How are they that messy?” she says, shaking her head as she digs into her food.

Keisha laughs, joining in on the gossiping. “I know, right? That one chick, Summer—girl, how do you go on TV and act like that? My mother would’ve dragged me for days if I ever pulled something like that.” Y/N can’t help but chuckle, the sound a little foreign to her after the emotional weight of earlier. It feels good to just let her mind wander to something lighter for once. The familiar, easy banter of her best friends helps ease the tension in her chest, even if just a little. She takes a bite of her own takeout, not really tasting it but savoring the moment of normalcy.

For a while, the three of them simply sit there, eating and talking about everything and nothing—random gossip, the latest trends, who’s dating who, and all the silly things they would normally laugh about. It’s comforting, the way they fall back into their old rhythm, like nothing’s changed. But deep down, Y/N knows it has. There’s a shift in her heart, and she’s unsure of how to deal with it. But for now, at least, she has her friends. And maybe that’s all she needs to hold on to for a little while longer.

—

The soft hum of the TV in the background did little to soothe Y/N’s racing thoughts. She had called in sick to work this morning, her supervisor understanding, but Y/N could tell the words that passed her lips were just an excuse. The truth was, she just needed a day. A day to breathe, to sort through the chaos inside her head. Curled up in a blanket on the couch, the soft fabric tangled around her legs as she let herself sink deeper into the cushions. She wasn’t watching anything on the TV—Baddies Midwest long forgotten. Her mind, as it often did when the world went quiet, wandered back to Trey.

It was the same thoughts, the same memories that had played on a loop for the past three years since his death. Trey’s laugh, his eyes lighting up when he’d talk about their future. The plans they made together, the promises they’d shared, all those dreams of getting old together and watching their grandkids run around a house they’d build together one day. She could almost feel him beside her now, as if he was there, his voice in the back of her mind like it had never left. But that same voice now tangled with another. Joe. Joe, who had come into her life like a storm, unexpectedly, irresistibly. So different from Trey, yet in some ways, so similar. Both had a way of making her feel like she was the only person in the room, their presence enough to make her feel seen, heard.

It was this that unsettled her. How was it possible for Joe to feel so familiar, yet so new at the same time? She had shut herself off from anyone else after Trey, afraid of feeling vulnerable again, of opening herself up to someone just to watch them be taken away. But now, with Joe, it was different. She wasn’t sure what was happening, but the pull she felt toward him was undeniable. And then, the thought came again, the one she had been trying to push away but couldn’t. How would Trey feel if I moved on?

Her chest tightened as the question hung in the air. Trey had been her first everything—her first love, her first kiss, the person who had promised her forever. Could she betray him like that? Could she even allow herself to love someone else? Tears welled up in her eyes again, and she bit her lip, trying to fight them back. She hadn’t let herself cry over Trey in a long time. Not like this. Not with such raw pain that felt just as fresh as the day he was gone.

She closed her eyes, imagining what Trey would say if he were here. He would probably tell her to live. To be happy. He’d want her to move forward, to not hold onto the past forever. Trey had been the type of person who would want her to find love again, to experience all the things she deserved to. But the fear lingered. Fear of forgetting him. Fear of betraying him by letting someone else in.

A deep sigh escaped her, and Y/N sat up, pushing the blanket off her shoulders. She needed to do something, anything, to get her mind off of all the heavy emotions. She couldn’t keep spiraling like this. Her phone buzzed beside her on the coffee table. She looked down at the screen, seeing a message from Imani: “Are you okay? You haven’t answered us today. We’re here if you need to talk.”

Y/N’s finger hovered over the message, but she didn’t respond. Not yet. Not while her heart felt like it was in pieces. Not when the weight of Trey and Joe was pressing down on her in ways she didn’t know how to handle. Instead, she set her phone down, sinking back into the couch again. Maybe tomorrow she’d have more clarity. Maybe tomorrow, the confusion would settle. But for now, all she could do was sit with it—the memories, the fear, and the love she was so scared to let in again.

♪♫•*¨*•.¸¸❤¸¸.•*¨*•♫♪

Joe stood on the field, surrounded by the usual hustle and bustle of practice, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing. His gaze kept drifting toward the sidelines where Imani and Keisha usually stood, but there was no sign of Y/N. His heart dropped with a quiet heaviness that seemed to settle deep in his chest. She hadn’t been there when practice started, and she was still nowhere to be found.

He tried to push the thoughts away, telling himself it was just one day. She could’ve had her reasons. Maybe she just needed space. But even as he thought it, a knot of guilt tightened in his stomach. He knew deep down that he’d messed up. His words from the day before echoed in his mind, each one heavier than the last. Had he pushed her too far? Had he made her feel like she couldn’t trust him with her heart? He glanced at Imani and Keisha again, hoping one of them would catch his eye. Maybe they’d give him some sign of what was going on, but they were just as lost as he was. They had the same concerned looks on their faces, the same unease that seemed to hover in the air.

As practice continued, Joe found himself unable to focus. His movements were slower than usual, his throws less accurate. The other players were giving him looks, and Coach even pulled him aside for a quick chat to make sure everything was okay, but Joe just nodded, barely hearing the words. His mind was consumed by one thought: Where was Y/N? He couldn’t stop thinking about her. Her eyes, the way they’d flickered with something raw and vulnerable yesterday, the way she’d walked away from him. He could still hear the snap in her voice when she’d yelled at him. The anger and pain mixed together, and it had left a hole in his chest. He wanted to apologize, wanted to explain that he was serious about her—that he wasn’t playing games, and he wasn’t going anywhere. But now, after the way he’d handled things, he wasn’t sure if she even wanted to hear him out.

The rest of practice felt like a blur. Joe's mind was elsewhere—on her. The weight of what had happened yesterday was starting to feel unbearable, and the more he tried to focus on the drills, the worse it got. He couldn't push the thoughts aside anymore. His chest ached with the fear that maybe she wouldn’t come back, maybe this thing between them was already over before it ever really had the chance to start.

By the time practice finally ended, Joe was more exhausted mentally than physically. He trudged off the field with the rest of the team, but his head was in a different place entirely. He pulled out his phone, his thumb hovering over Y/N’s name. Should I text her? Should I give her space? His fingers hesitated, uncertainty weighing heavily on him. But in the end, he couldn’t stand it. He needed to know if she was okay. He shot off a quick text, hoping she’d respond, but deep down, he knew it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t going to fix the mess he’d made. What if she didn’t want to hear from him? What if she was done?

His chest tightened at the thought. I can't lose her before I've even had the chance to prove I’m not like the others… He sank down on the nearest bench, running his hand through his hair, staring blankly at the empty field in front of him. I’ve got to fix this, he thought. I can't just let her walk away. As practice wrapped up, Joe was one of the first players to leave the field. His body moved on autopilot, his mind still tangled in a mess of worry, frustration, and guilt. Every step he took felt heavier than the last, weighed down by the silence that had lingered between him and Y/N since she stormed off yesterday.

He couldn’t stand the thought of not knowing what was going on with her, of not being able to fix things. He needed to hear it from someone—needed to know she was okay. His eyes scanned the facility as he walked toward the equipment room, the noise of his teammates fading in the background as his thoughts consumed him. When he reached the equipment room, he saw Imani and Keisha sorting through spare jerseys, their heads down as they chatted quietly. They looked up when they heard him approach, and for a split second, both of their faces shifted, an unreadable look passing between them.

Joe swallowed hard, his voice unsteady when he spoke. “Is she okay? Y/N, I mean…” Imani and Keisha exchanged another glance before Imani finally broke the silence. She sighed, leaning against the counter with a soft shake of her head. “She’s okay. We basically had to break her down and make her talk. But she’s… she’s working through things, Joe. She just needs time.”

Joe let out a breath, relief and anxiety mixing together in the pit of his stomach. He wasn’t sure if he could take hearing that she needed time, but at least it meant she wasn’t shutting him out completely. Keisha, who had been quietly observing him, stepped closer, her hand gently resting on his tense shoulder. “Joe, she just needs space. It’s been a lot, especially these past few weeks. Between you two, all the back and forth, the tension. It’s a lot for anyone to handle. But I promise, she’s not going anywhere. She has feelings for you, but she just needs to sort through them. Give her time.”

Joe closed his eyes, his jaw clenched. He nodded slowly, though his frustration and worry hadn’t quite eased. “I just don’t want to lose her before we even get the chance to really figure this out.” His voice was low, vulnerable. He could feel the weight of it in his chest. Imani’s gaze softened, and she took a step forward, her expression filled with understanding. “Joe, we see it. Hell, even the space station could see it. How much you care, how much you feel for her. It’s not going unnoticed.” She paused, her tone turning serious. “But you’ve got to let her work through this at her pace. And if you really care about her like we know you do, you’ll wait. Give her the space she needs. It’s the only way this will work.”

Joe’s throat tightened, but he forced himself to nod again. He couldn’t afford to make any more mistakes with Y/N. The last thing he wanted was to drive her further away. “Thanks,” he muttered, his voice low but sincere. “I just... I don’t want to screw this up.” Keisha gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze, a soft smile on her face. “You won’t. Just be patient. She’ll come around when she’s ready.” With that, Joe offered a small, grateful nod, before turning to leave the equipment room. His mind still raced, but there was a sense of relief that washed over him. He wasn’t losing her—not yet. But he knew that if they were going to make it, he had to be patient. He had to give her the time she needed to heal, to trust him. But no matter how long it took, Joe knew one thing for sure: he wasn’t going anywhere. He was going to fight for her, even if it meant waiting as long as it took.

As Joe walked out of the equipment room, the weight of the conversation lingered in the air. His thoughts remained tangled around Y/N, but this time, there was a sliver of hope. He wasn't going to give up on her, not after everything they'd shared and everything that was left unsaid. But he had to be patient. He had to let her come to him when she was ready, and he had to prove to her that he wasn’t going anywhere.

He grabbed his gym bag from his locker, the motions automatic, his mind still clouded with worry. Despite what Keisha and Imani had said, he couldn’t help but feel like he had done something wrong—like he had pushed her too hard too fast. It wasn’t like Y/N to just walk away like that, and the thought of losing her gnawed at him. The last thing he wanted was for her to feel like she couldn’t trust him. Joe was so caught up in his thoughts that he barely noticed the group of guys starting to head out for the night. He gave them a quick nod, but his mind was elsewhere, still replaying the argument from the day before. Still wondering if there was something he could have done differently.

The drive home felt longer than usual, the silence in the car almost suffocating. Joe turned on the radio, but the music did little to ease the heaviness in his chest. All he could think about was Y/N, sitting alone in her apartment, no doubt replaying everything in her head the same way he was. As soon as he got home, he threw his keys on the counter and walked into his living room, collapsing onto the couch. His phone was buzzing in his pocket, but he ignored it for a while, his fingers tapping on his knee anxiously. He wasn’t ready for another text from her yet—not until he knew how to fix things. But after a moment, he couldn’t resist anymore.

His gaze fixed on his phone, finger hovering over Y/N’s contact. He knew deep down that calling her now wouldn’t help. She needed space. He needed to give her that. But God, the ache in his chest wasn’t going away, no matter how much he tried to distract himself. He sighed in frustration, his finger still unmoving, as if somehow he could summon the courage to hit send. The longer he stared at the screen, the more he could feel the weight of her absence. He could hear her voice in his mind, could still recall the warmth of her laughter, the way she looked at him like she wanted to say something but held back. She was never fully open with him, and that scared him. But what scared him more was the possibility that she was slipping away entirely.

He couldn’t shake the thought that they were on opposite ends of the universe now. Sure, they’d shared moments that felt too real to ignore, but the walls she’d built up around herself were impossible to breach. She was so guarded. He hated how much he felt like an outsider in her life. Joe let out another sigh, one more frustrated than the last. He couldn’t fix it by just waiting. He couldn’t fix it by moping around either. The thought of losing her—of never getting a chance to make things right—sent a jolt of panic through him. He didn’t want to be another ghost in her past. He didn’t want to be that guy who faded into the background when it got hard.

But how was he supposed to fix this? How could he prove to her that he wasn’t like the others? That he didn’t just want a fling, that he wanted her—all of her, the good and the messy parts? His hand dropped to his side, fingers brushing against the fabric of the couch as he let the phone slip from his grasp. He wanted to call her, to make everything right in one fell swoop. But deep down, he knew it wasn’t that simple. She needed time. She needed to trust him. And until then, he’d just have to wait. The thought felt like a heavy stone in his chest. Time. Would it be enough? Would she come back to him, or had he already let her slip through his fingers?

Joe stared at the phone one last time, wishing there was an easy answer. But the truth was, he had no idea what came next. All he knew was that he wasn’t ready to let go—not yet. Joe pulled out his phone, his gaze lingering on the screen as his thumb scrolled through the messages. Each one seemed to amplify the weight pressing down on his chest, making him feel even more suffocated. The overwhelming silence from Y/N was eating at him. He hadn’t heard from her since their argument, and as much as he tried to distract himself, his mind kept drifting back to her, to the conversation they’d had, to the things left unsaid.

His thumb hovered over a message from Ja'Marr, his best friend, one of the few people who could always tell when something was wrong without Joe saying a word. Ja'Marr had always been perceptive, especially when it came to Joe’s emotions. "Yo, you good? You’ve been off all day. You wanna come out with me and Tee tonight? Just a chill night. Some drinks, a little fun, clear your head."

Joe stared at the message for a long time, feeling the weight of it pressing into his chest. It was like Ja'Marr knew exactly what he needed to hear. Joe had been in his head nonstop since the argument with Y/N—overanalyzing every word, every moment, wondering where he went wrong, questioning why she was pulling away. The thought of going out didn’t excite him at all, but Ja'Marr wasn’t wrong. He needed a distraction. He couldn’t keep spiraling. Not about Y/N. Not about something he had no control over right now.

He ran a hand through his hair, his mind racing with conflicting thoughts. He wanted to fix things with Y/N—wanted to call her, talk it out, make her see that he was serious about them. But he knew, deep down, that it wasn’t that simple. She needed space. She needed time to figure things out, and as much as it hurt, he had to respect that. But hell, it didn’t make it any easier to sit with the uncertainty.

Maybe Ja'Marr was right. Maybe he needed to get out of his head for a little while. He let out a deep sigh, slumping back against the couch. As much as he wanted to stay locked in his thoughts, he knew staying stuck wasn’t going to help him find any answers. A night out with his boys could give him a much-needed break, even if it was just for a few hours.

He typed back slowly, his fingers hovering over the keys, unsure of how to respond. "I don’t know, man. I’m not really in the mood for a night out. Just been... thinking about stuff. A lot." He waited, staring at the screen, half-expecting Ja'Marr to let it go. But within seconds, Ja'Marr’s reply came in, as blunt as ever: "I get it, bro. But that’s exactly why you need this. You’re not gonna figure it out sitting in your head all night. Trust me, you need a break. Tee and I are just gonna kick back, maybe hit up that new bar downtown. No pressure, no deep convos. Just a chance to breathe."

Joe stared at the screen for a moment, his mind battling between the desire to retreat into his own space and the reality that he wasn’t going to solve anything by wallowing in his thoughts. Ja'Marr was right. He was never going to get clarity by constantly rehashing everything with Y/N. Maybe a couple of hours of mindless fun would help him reset, give him a little mental distance. He tapped out a reply, his fingers moving more confidently now. "Alright, I’m in. I’ll meet you guys. I could use a drink."

Ja'Marr wasted no time sending a response: "That’s what I like to hear. See you at 8. Don’t think too much, man. It’ll be good for you." Joe let the phone fall onto the couch beside him as he leaned back, rubbing a hand over his face. He wasn’t sure if a night out would solve anything, but it was a start. A chance to stop obsessing over what he couldn’t control, even if just for a little while. He wasn’t going to forget about Y/N—he couldn’t. But maybe he could give himself the space to breathe. He took a deep breath, standing up from the couch. He wasn’t sure what the future held with Y/N. Hell, he wasn’t sure what tomorrow would bring. But tonight, at least, he was going to try to let go, even if just for a few hours. He had to. For his own sanity.

♪♫•*¨*•.¸¸❤¸¸.•*¨*•♫♪

Y/N sat on the edge of her bed, the suitcase in front of her, half-packed but not yet closed. She stared at the clothes inside, not really seeing them, her mind far away from the task at hand. The quiet in the room felt deafening, and the only sound was the soft hum of the music playing in the background. She had decided—no, she needed—to take the rest of the week off. Time to reset, to breathe, and maybe, just maybe, to make sense of the mess she found herself in.

She had booked a plane ticket for the next morning—back home to Slidell, Louisiana. It had been three years since she’d last been home, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that it was exactly where she needed to be right now. Her hometown, with its slow pace and familiar faces, would offer her the space she needed to heal. Her family, her old friends, and the quiet streets of Slidell—all of it felt like the kind of sanctuary she needed to reclaim some peace. Y/N took a deep breath, standing up and walking over to her window, looking out at the city below. The skyline was bathed in the soft glow of late afternoon, but everything felt distant, as if she wasn’t quite connected to the world around her. Her phone buzzed again, but she didn’t need to look at it. She already knew who it was—Imani, or maybe Keisha, checking in. She hadn’t answered their texts for the past couple of hours. She wasn’t sure how to explain herself right now, let alone the mess that had unfolded between her and Joe.

Taking a deep breath, Y/N turned away from the window and focused back on her suitcase. She needed to pack, she told herself. She needed to get away. Slidell would offer her the distance she needed, a temporary reprieve from the chaos of the past few days. Maybe the space would help her see things more clearly. Maybe it would give her the strength to decide what she wanted with Joe, if anything. Y/N sat cross-legged on her bed, the soft hum of music filling the space as she folded clothes into her suitcase. She was supposed to be focusing on packing, but her mind kept drifting back to Joe. She hadn’t realized how much she missed him until now, when she was alone with her thoughts. She hadn’t been able to shake the image of his face, the way his eyes would light up when he looked at her, or that smile of his that always seemed to make the world feel right.

It wasn’t just the way he looked, though. She missed the way he made her feel—like she was someone worth fighting for, like he genuinely wanted to be there. She missed the way his presence made everything else fade into the background, leaving only the two of them in the moment. And, she couldn’t deny it, his smile. His icy blue eyes were like a magnet. They made her heart race every time their gazes met, and damn, if she was being honest, she couldn’t help but admit that his booty wasn’t so bad either. She let out a small laugh to herself, shaking her head, as she continued folding a shirt and placing it in her bag. The ache in her chest wouldn’t go away, though. How had things gotten so complicated? She had worked so hard to keep her heart safe, and now, here she was, missing him more than she cared to admit.

Her phone buzzed on the bedside table, pulling Y/N from her thoughts. She reached over and grabbed it, half-expecting a message from Imani or Keisha, but to her surprise, it was from Ja'Marr. The notification flashed on her screen, a simple message that made her pause for a moment. "Yo, you good?"

Y/N bit her lip, staring at the screen. She hadn’t spoken to anyone much since the argument with Joe, and now Ja'Marr was checking in. She hesitated for a moment, unsure if she wanted to open up about the weight pressing on her chest. She wasn’t ready to dive into the mess of emotions she had been fighting to keep under control. Still, he was her friend, and he was probably just worried. She quickly typed a response, trying to keep it casual.

"Yeah, just packing." Her thumb hovered over the send button for a second longer than necessary, but she hit send before she could second-guess herself. She didn’t want to dive into the details with him—not now, not when she was still sorting things out in her own head. Ja'Marr had a way of reading between the lines, though, and she knew it was only a matter of time before he asked what was really going on. Sure enough, just a few seconds later, the reply came through.

"What’s really going on, Y/N? You’ve been quiet for a minute. You sure you’re okay?" Y/N let out a frustrated sigh, leaning back against the headboard as she stared at her phone. Of course, Ja'Marr was going to ask. He always did. He was one of those friends who didn’t let you hide behind simple answers, always pushing until he got to the truth. And, despite herself, Y/N appreciated that about him. But right now, she wasn’t sure she was ready to talk. Not about Joe, not about how much she was struggling with everything.

She bit her lip, chewing on her lower lip as she thought. She could feel the tears welling up again, and she hated how weak she felt. How vulnerable. This wasn’t how she was used to handling things. Normally, Y/N would put on a brave face and push through—keep it together, focus on the next step. But with Joe, everything felt different. It felt harder. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to face the storm swirling in her chest.

After a long pause, she finally typed back, trying to be as vague as possible while still being honest enough not to lie to him. "I’m fine. Just need some space, I think." She hit send before she could talk herself out of it. She knew it wasn’t the full truth, but it was the only truth she could give right now. Ja'Marr was probably going to press her more, but for the moment, it felt like the best answer she could give. He didn’t respond immediately, which gave her a small, unexpected sigh of relief. Maybe he could sense that she wasn’t ready for a long conversation. She hoped he understood.

As her phone lay silent in her hand, Y/N glanced around the room, her gaze drifting over the familiar space. It was small but cozy, a place she had come to feel comfortable in since moving to this city. The walls, adorned with some pictures and mementos, felt safe, but today, they felt confining. The weight of everything was heavy on her shoulders, and the thought of being stuck in this room for the next few days made her restless. She needed a break. She had bought a plane ticket back home to Slidell, Louisiana. Her flight was the next afternoon, and she couldn’t help but feel relieved that, for at least a few days, she would be away from all of it—the stress, the uncertainty, the heartache. She’d be surrounded by her family, her familiar places, and hopefully, she’d be able to sort through everything in her own time.

But even as she thought about the space that was coming, her mind still lingered on Joe. She couldn’t seem to escape the thoughts of him. His smile, the way he made her feel alive in ways no one else had ever been able to, his eyes that held so much warmth and intensity. He’d managed to carve out a space in her heart without even trying, and it terrified her.

But that terror wasn’t just about the feelings she had for him. It was also about the fear that maybe this wouldn’t last, that the universe had other plans for her—plans she wasn’t ready to face again. The memory of Trey, the man she’d once believed would be her forever, lingered like a shadow in her mind. What if Joe wasn’t the one? What if she was just setting herself up for another heartbreak? Could she really risk feeling that way again? She shook her head, pushing the thought aside, though it didn’t leave her completely. Tomorrow, she'd be back home, in the place where everything felt simpler. Where the air felt lighter. She could breathe there, without the constant weight of doubt and fear weighing her down. She could take a moment to figure out what she wanted—what she truly needed. Maybe, just maybe, she could make sense of everything.

She stood up and walked across the room, looking around one more time as she finished up her packing. Her hand rested on the suitcase, and for the first time in what felt like days, she allowed herself a moment of peace. She didn’t know what was waiting for her when she came back. Maybe things with Joe would pick up where they left off, maybe not. But for now, she needed to take this time to find herself again, to heal the parts of her that had been broken for far too long. She wasn’t sure what the future held, but she knew one thing for certain—she couldn’t rush through this. She had to take it one step at a time, even if that meant walking away from Joe for a while. After all, maybe she needed to learn how to be whole on her own before she could let someone else in.

♪♫•*¨*•.¸¸❤¸¸.•*¨*•♫♪

Joe sat back in the booth, his fingers tracing the condensation on his beer bottle, his mind still drifting. The sounds of clinking glasses and low chatter surrounded him, but they felt distant. Ja'Marr and Tee were cracking jokes, talking about their training sessions, teasing each other about who was going to have the better stats by the end of the season. It was the kind of banter that normally would have Joe in stitches, but tonight, his laughter felt hollow. His thoughts kept pulling him back to Y/N.

He hadn't been able to shake the feeling of the tension that had built up between them. The argument, her storming off, the weight of everything unspoken hanging in the air—it all felt like it was suffocating him. Y/N had made it clear she needed space, but Joe was still wondering how to navigate all the emotions he was carrying. He wanted to fix things, wanted to tell her that he wasn’t going anywhere, but what if she needed something he couldn’t give her? Ja'Marr, ever the perceptive friend, noticed Joe's distracted look. He clapped him on the back, giving him a hard nudge to snap him out of his spiraling thoughts. “See, man? I told you this would help. You can’t keep letting it eat at you. This is the perfect distraction.”

Joe blinked, shaking himself out of the cloud of his thoughts. He gave Ja'Marr a small smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah. You were right. I just... I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Tee, who was leaning back with his arm slung casually over the back of the booth, gave a teasing grin. “Oh, we know, bro. That girl’s got you all twisted up. What’s going on?” Joe shifted in his seat, suddenly feeling the weight of Tee’s question. His first instinct was to laugh it off, pretend everything was fine. But he couldn’t. He could feel the concern in his chest tightening, a knot he hadn’t been able to undo all day. He didn’t want to let his emotions spill over, not here, not in front of his friends. But Ja'Marr and Tee could see right through him, and they weren’t letting up.

“What do you mean?” Joe asked, trying to sound casual, but his voice betrayed him, carrying an undercurrent of frustration. Ja'Marr leaned forward, his eyes softening as he met Joe’s gaze. “Bro, I’ve known you too long. Something’s up with you, and it’s not just practice. You’ve been holding this... whatever it is... close to the chest for a while now. It’s been eating at you, hasn’t it?”

Joe sighed, rubbing his temples as if it would ease the pressure that had been building in his mind all day. He had tried to push everything aside, but it was impossible. Everything kept coming back to Y/N—the argument, the unresolved feelings, the fact that he didn’t know how to fix it. “Man, it’s... complicated,” Joe muttered, taking a long drink from his beer. “I don’t know what to do. It’s like every time I try to get close, it feels like I’m pushing her further away. And she...” His voice faltered. “She’s different, Ja'Marr. I care about her, a lot. But I don’t know what the hell she wants from me.”

Ja'Marr was quiet for a moment, nodding slowly, before replying in a calm, knowing tone. “It’s always gonna be complicated when you care about someone. Especially someone like her. You can’t control how she feels, Joe. All you can do is show her that you’re there. But you can’t force her to open up if she’s not ready. And sometimes, man, you’ve got to give it space to breathe.” Tee added in, his voice surprisingly serious, “Yeah, man. You’re all tangled up in your head right now, thinking about what’s next. But you can’t rush it. You’ve gotta let it unfold. You can’t keep trying to fix it or push it. She’s gonna come to you when she’s ready.”

Joe rubbed his jaw, considering their words. It wasn’t that he didn’t understand what they were saying—he knew he couldn’t force Y/N to feel something she wasn’t ready for. But it didn’t stop the ache in his chest, the gnawing doubt that maybe he wasn’t enough. He could feel his anxiety creeping back up, a familiar sensation that made him question everything. “I don’t want to lose her, man,” Joe confessed, his voice quieter now, almost raw.

Ja'Marr and Tee exchanged another quick look, and Ja'Marr reached over to give him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “You won’t, bro. But you gotta let her come to you. Don’t put so much pressure on yourself to fix everything at once. Let it breathe. If it’s real, it’ll find its way.” Joe leaned back in the booth, his gaze flicking over to the bar where a couple of people were laughing over drinks, trying to ignore the weight of everything that felt unresolved in his life. It was hard to breathe in that space, knowing Y/N wasn’t there, knowing she was probably thousands of miles away. But Ja'Marr and Tee were right—he couldn’t fix everything in one night. He needed to give her the space she asked for, even if it made him feel helpless.

The conversation shifted back to more lighthearted topics—Tee starting an outrageous story about a teammate’s disastrous date, and Ja'Marr laughing at how he always managed to give the worst dating advice. For a moment, Joe found himself genuinely laughing, the heavy thoughts at the back of his mind fading into the background. The guys were right—he needed this. He needed a night to clear his head, to reset. And maybe, just maybe, he needed to stop overthinking everything.

As the night went on, the beer kept flowing, the music played, and the three of them just kicked back and enjoyed being in each other’s company. Joe didn’t know what the next day would bring or if things between him and Y/N would ever work out the way he hoped. But for now, he allowed himself to enjoy the distraction. For tonight, he didn’t have to have all the answers. Tonight, he could just be Joe, with his boys, letting go of the weight for a little while.

Joe walked up to the bar, his feet dragging slightly as he made his way through the crowd. The night had been decent so far—he’d been able to put the weight of everything that had happened with Y/N on the back burner, even if just for a little while. The guys had kept things light, teasing each other, talking about random things, and letting him forget about the mess that was still waiting for him back in his head. But he needed another drink, something to keep him from overthinking and spiraling into those same old thoughts.

He was waiting for the bartender to slide him a fresh drink when a voice caught his attention. A smooth, somewhat sultry voice that made him pause. “Well, if it isn’t Mr. Football Star himself,” the woman said, her tone playful and teasing. Joe turned to see a woman leaning against the bar, her gaze steady on him, a smirk playing on her lips. She was attractive—blonde hair, sharp features, an obvious confidence about her—but Joe wasn’t interested. Not tonight. “Hey,” Joe greeted her, giving a polite nod before turning his attention back to the bartender who was now placing his drink in front of him.

The woman, though, wasn’t deterred by his lack of enthusiasm. She shifted closer to him, her eyes scanning him up and down in a way that made him feel uncomfortable. “I didn’t expect to see someone like you in a place like this,” she said, her voice low, almost seductive. “Usually, guys like you are too busy with their fancy parties and exclusive events. What’s a big star like you doing out here with the regular people?” Joe felt his stomach tighten. He wasn’t used to this kind of attention, not the way this woman was laying it on thick. He was still thinking about Y/N, about the frustration that still lingered in his chest. He didn’t have the energy for small talk, certainly not with someone who was clearly only interested in his celebrity.

He forced a smile, trying to keep things light but direct. “Just enjoying a night out with my friends. No need to make a big deal out of it.” The woman didn’t seem to take the hint. Instead, she leaned in a little closer, her hand brushing against his arm. “I’m sure the ladies are lining up for a guy like you, huh? You must have a lot of options.” Her voice was almost too smooth, too calculated, as though she was trying to reel him in.

Joe took a step back, feeling his discomfort grow. He wasn’t interested in a random hookup or flirtation, especially not when his mind was so consumed with someone else. “I’m not looking for anything, really,” he said, keeping his tone firm but polite. She raised an eyebrow, as if surprised by his lack of interest. But instead of backing off, she gave him a sly grin. “Oh, I bet you’ve got a lot on your mind. I’m sure I could help you take your mind off things.” Joe shook his head, taking his drink and stepping away from the bar. “Thanks, but no thanks. I’m good.” He didn’t even glance back at her as he made his way back to the booth where Ja'Marr and Tee were sitting. He needed to get away from this whole thing, from the tension in the air and the woman’s relentless flirting.

♪♫•*¨*•.¸¸❤¸¸.•*¨*•♫♪

Y/N sat on the edge of her bed, her phone in her hand as she debated how much to share with Imani and Keisha. She knew they would worry, but she didn’t want to leave them hanging either. They were her best friends, and they deserved to know what was going on, even if she didn’t have all the answers herself. Taking a deep breath, she typed out a quick message to both of them: "Hey, I’m taking the rest of the week off. I’ll be okay, just need some time to myself. Don’t worry, I’m fine. Love you both."

She stared at the text for a moment, her thumb hovering over the send button. There was more she could say, more she could explain about what had been going on in her head, but she wasn’t ready for that yet. Not with everything still so up in the air. She didn’t even want to think about Joe right now. Her phone buzzed almost immediately with a reply from Keisha: "Y/N, you better take care of yourself. We’re here if you need to talk. Love you, girl."

And then from Imani: "I get it. Take the time you need, but remember, we’ve got your back no matter what." Y/N smiled softly, a little comforted by their words, but she couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt. She knew they wanted to be there for her, to help her through whatever was going on with Joe, but right now, she needed distance from everything. She needed to think, to clear her head, and the best way to do that was to go home.

With a deep breath, she powered off her phone, slipping it into her bag. She didn’t want any distractions. Her heart had been pulled in so many directions over the past few days—between Joe, her past with Trey, and the whirlwind of emotions that had come with it all—that she just needed a break from it all.

​​The airport terminal was alive with activity, people rushing to and from their gates, dragging rolling suitcases behind them, talking into their phones, and waiting in lines for coffee or snacks. The hum of voices and the echoing announcements over the loudspeakers blended into a constant background noise. But Y/N barely noticed any of it. Her thoughts were far away, wandering in a space between the life she had left behind in Cincinnati and the life she was returning to in Slidell. As she walked through the terminal, her steps felt automatic, like she was on autopilot. The terminal was a blur of faces and movement, but she kept her head down, moving with purpose. Her mind was elsewhere, focused on the horizon, on the plane ride ahead, and the comfort of home that awaited her. The thought of returning to her roots, surrounded by the warmth of family and the familiar sights of her hometown, gave her a sense of peace she hadn’t felt in weeks. The noise and pressure of life in Cincinnati, the arguments with Joe, the confusion in her heart—everything felt too heavy. She just needed space. Time to breathe. Time to reconnect with herself without the chaos.

She glanced down at her phone, seeing a couple of missed texts from Imani and Keisha. She had already told them she was fine, that she just needed some time. They’d respected her decision, but she knew they were still worried. Y/N couldn’t bring herself to respond just yet, not when her emotions felt so raw and disorganized. She wasn’t sure what she needed to say, or if she could explain the jumble of feelings in her chest. Instead, she tucked her phone back into her bag and continued walking toward the gate, her heart a little lighter with each step.

The boarding process was quick, and before long, she was seated by the window, looking out over the tarmac. She had the window seat, a small comfort in itself. Y/N loved the feeling of being above it all, looking down at the world below and seeing everything from a distance. The plane slowly began to taxi toward the runway, the engines humming with life as the plane prepared for takeoff. She pressed her forehead against the cool window, watching as the airport grew smaller and smaller, the city skyline fading into the distance.

With each passing moment, Y/N could feel herself letting go, just a little bit more. The noise and worries of the past week felt like they were falling away, replaced by the quiet hum of the plane and the soft vibration beneath her feet. The thought of home, of Slidell, was like a balm for her heart. There, she could relax. There, she could forget about the uncertainty and chaos that had built up around her recently. For a few days, she could let herself just be.

But even as she settled into the comfort of the flight, her mind kept drifting back to Joe. It was impossible not to. Even though she had promised herself she’d put him out of her thoughts, he lingered in the back of her mind. His face, the way he’d looked at her that day—the hurt and frustration in his eyes when she walked away—it kept replaying in her mind, over and over again. He was a force she couldn’t ignore, a presence she couldn’t escape. Every little thing about him, from his soft laugh to the way his blue eyes seemed to see right through her, stuck with her. Even now, halfway across the country, she felt the pull of him.

But that was the problem, wasn’t it? The pull. The way he’d managed to worm his way into her heart in such a short time, how easily she had let him in. She had promised herself she wouldn’t let anyone get close again after Trey, but Joe had done it effortlessly. She didn’t know how to handle it. The vulnerability, the fear of letting herself love again, it was all too much. But at the same time, she couldn’t push it all away. She closed her eyes, leaning her head against the seat, trying to block out the thoughts that kept spiraling through her mind. She didn’t know what the future held with Joe, and that terrified her. What if things didn’t work out? What if they weren’t meant to be, and she was just setting herself up for more heartbreak?

As the plane climbed higher into the sky, Y/N let out a slow breath, trying to release the tension she hadn’t realized she was holding. The familiar ache in her chest was still there, but it was easier to ignore now, at least for the moment. The rhythm of the plane’s movement soothed her, and she let herself drift into a quiet, peaceful lull. She didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, or what would happen when she returned to Cincinnati, but for now, she needed this. She needed this time to clear her head, to breathe, to remember who she was without the weight of all the questions. She could process everything later. Right now, she just needed to let go. And when the plane touched down in Slidell, she would deal with whatever awaited her there. Her past. Her future. Her fears and her hopes. But for now, she could let herself be still, even if only for a little while.

♪♫•¨•.¸¸❤¸¸.•¨•♫♪

The morning sunlight crept through the blinds of Joe’s bedroom, casting a soft, golden hue across the room. For a moment, everything felt calm—normal, even. Joe stretched out in bed, groggily rubbing his eyes as he pulled himself out of his half-sleep, trying to shake off the fog from a restless night. He had hoped for a fresh start, a normal day—practice, maybe a few hours to clear his head, and, if he was lucky, a chance to smooth things over with Y/N. That was the plan, at least. But as fate often has it, things didn’t go as he expected.

Joe turned on the shower, the hot water cascading down his body as he tried to shake off the thoughts of last night. The conversation with Y/N had been a mess, and now the aftermath was gnawing at him. His mind was a whirlpool of confusion, guilt, and longing. He tried to focus on the soothing rhythm of the water, hoping it would calm his nerves, but his thoughts kept drifting back to her—the way she’d looked at him, the hesitation in her voice, the way he couldn’t seem to find the right words to make things right.

He closed his eyes, letting the water soak through his hair, but the buzz of his phone on the bathroom counter broke his focus. He frowned, reluctantly stepping out of the shower to check it. The screen lit up, filled with a flood of notifications. His stomach sank as he saw the names: Ja'Marr, Tee, Imani, Keisha. They’d all reached out, and the sheer volume of messages made his chest tighten. What the hell had happened? He froze.

It was a message from his publicist. "Joe, you might want to check social media. Something’s trending."

He quickly opened his Twitter, then moved over to Instagram, his heart sinking as he saw what was going viral. A photo of him at the bar, with the woman from earlier standing just a little too close, her hand on his arm. The caption was simple, but it had all the wrong implications: "Joe Burrow spotted out at the bar tonight, getting cozy with a mystery woman."

Joe’s pulse quickened. He immediately knew how this would play out. Gossip pages like DeuxMoi and The Shade Room would be all over this. People would start speculating, making assumptions. And the worst part was, he didn’t even know if Y/N would see it, but the thought of her getting hurt because of something he hadn’t even done—that was the last thing he wanted. He felt his frustration rising. How the hell had this even happened? The picture had to have been taken when he was standing at the bar with the woman. He wasn’t interested, hadn’t even been giving her any more attention than necessary. But the photo made it look entirely different. It made it look like he was flirting, maybe even more. And now, this image was out there for everyone to see. “Damn it,” Joe muttered under his breath, tapping his phone screen in disbelief as he stared at the photo. He felt his stomach churn, suddenly feeling like he was drowning in this mess of misunderstandings and misplaced assumptions. This was the last thing he needed.

Joe quickly grabbed a towel, drying off as he scanned through the texts. He felt his pulse quicken as he saw Ja'Marr’s first message.

Ja'Marr: “Yo, you good?” Joe’s heart skipped a beat, knowing exactly what Ja'Marr meant. His mind raced as he scrolled to the next message, this one from Tee.

Tee: “Bruh, what’s going on? Check social media, man. Shit’s blowing up.” Joe’s stomach dropped, and his hands went cold. He didn’t need to see more. He knew what was coming. He swiped to Instagram, then Twitter, and within seconds, he saw it. The photo of him at the bar with that woman, standing far too close. Her hand on his arm. The caption was like a dagger.

“Joe Burrow spotted out at the bar, getting cozy with a mystery woman.”

His pulse quickened as he realized the implications of it all. He hadn’t been interested in her—not in the way it looked, anyway. But that wasn’t the point now. The point was, this picture was out there, circulating like wildfire, and he had no control over it. He didn’t even know if Y/N had seen it yet, but the thought of her finding out like this made him sick to his stomach. He felt like he was suffocating under the weight of this misunderstanding.

Before he could process it, his phone buzzed again, this time with a message from Imani.

Imani: “What the fuck, Joe? You’re out here getting cozy with some random chick while Y/N’s trying to figure out her feelings? Are you serious?” Joe winced at the tone. Imani wasn’t holding back, and he couldn’t blame her. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Y/N, and now this? He could feel the anger and frustration radiating through the text. He quickly skimmed the next message, from Keisha.

Keisha: “You know better than this. She’s already dealing with so much, and you do this? She’s gonna see it, Joe. Just wait.” He read the messages again, his head spinning. The last thing he wanted was for Y/N to feel betrayed. The last thing he wanted was to hurt her more. He felt like he was stuck in a bad dream, watching it all unfold, unable to do anything to stop it. But it wasn’t just the women in his life who were coming at him. Ja'Marr’s text came through next, though his tone was more measured.

Ja'Marr: “Bro, I see it too. It looks bad. But listen to me, it ain’t what it seems. I know you weren’t trying to do anything shady, but the internet don’t care about context. You need to address this, and you need to do it fast before it blows up even more. Tee and I are here for you, but you gotta step up, man.”

Joe sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, his head spinning. Ja'Marr was right. The internet had no time for nuance, and he was caught in the middle of something that could spiral out of control if he didn’t act fast. He had to fix this. He had to get ahead of the story before it tore him apart.

Ja'Marr had been through his own media storms, so Joe knew that his advice wasn’t coming from a place of judgment, but from experience. Still, the weight of everything was suffocating. This wasn’t just about a photo. It was about his relationship with Y/N. It was about their future, or what could’ve been their future. He couldn’t let this be the thing that ruined everything. Joe didn’t have time to dwell on it. He shot a quick reply to Ja'Marr, hoping he could get a hold of things before they spun even further out of control.

Imani: “Joe, you better not make the mistake of letting this slide. You owe her the truth. And if you think this photo is the worst of it, think again. If I find out that you’re out here playing games with her feelings... We’re gonna have a problem.”

Joe ran a hand through his damp hair, groaning in frustration. Imani and Keisha were angry, and rightfully so. But this wasn’t just about him and the girls being upset—it was about Y/N. His heart ached thinking about what she might be going through right now, her emotions tangled up in everything that had happened. He couldn’t let this mess be the reason she closed herself off from him for good. His phone buzzed again, but this time, it wasn’t a message from anyone he knew. It was a notification from Twitter, showing the trending hashtag: #JoeBurrowMysteryWoman. The floodgates had opened, and there was no going back now. He had to fix this. He had no idea how, but he couldn’t let this spiral any further. Joe grabbed his keys and wallet, barely noticing the tension in his shoulders as he left his apartment. He was done sitting back and letting the world control his narrative. It was time to take charge—before everything he’d started to build with Y/N slipped through his fingers.

♪♫•*¨*•.¸¸❤¸¸.•*¨*•♫♪

The plane touched down smoothly in New Orleans around 10:30 a.m., the engines humming as they made their descent toward the familiar skyline of the city she had missed so much. Y/N's heart lifted a little at the sight of the vibrant streets below, each one an intricate blend of culture, history, and warmth. She’d been away too long, and the moment she stepped off the plane, it was like a weight she didn’t even realize she was carrying lifted off her shoulders.

She grabbed her carry-on bag and made her way to the baggage claim, her mind already racing with thoughts of home. The comfort of her childhood room, the smell of gumbo wafting from the kitchen, the warmth of her family's laughter filling the house—everything about this place had always been a sanctuary. It was the perfect escape from the whirlwind she’d left behind in Cincinnati. For now, she just wanted to breathe. After grabbing her luggage, she found her rental car and began the drive to Slidell, her hometown just a short distance from the bustling streets of New Orleans. The familiar sights—well-maintained houses, the overgrown trees lining the streets—were like balm for her soul. The low hum of the car’s engine was soothing, and Y/N couldn’t help but smile at the small, nostalgic details of the drive. It had been years since she'd been back home for any extended period of time, and it felt right—like returning to herself.

She passed by local landmarks—the diner she used to go to with friends, the park where she and Trey had spent hours talking and laughing in their younger years. Every street felt like a memory, and with each mile she drove, she felt a little more grounded.

As she neared the outskirts of Slidell, she noticed the faint outlines of the trees that bordered her grandparents' house. The small cottage-style home was nestled on a quiet street, surrounded by lush greenery and blooming flowers. It was a place full of love and warmth, a constant in her life no matter where she had been or what she had gone through. When she finally pulled into the driveway, she couldn't help but feel a wave of comfort wash over her. She could hear voices inside, the faint sound of conversation and laughter. Her heart swelled with affection for her family, knowing that this was where she needed to be. She grabbed her bag from the passenger seat and walked up the front steps, the door swinging open just as she reached it.

"Y/N! Baby, you’re home!" Her grandmother’s voice was the first to greet her, warm and inviting, followed by the scent of bacon and fresh coffee wafting through the air. Inside, the house was bustling with the familiar sounds of her family. Her parents were sitting at the kitchen table, chatting about the latest local news, while her siblings were scattered around the room, joking and eating breakfast. It was like nothing had changed, and for the first time in days, Y/N felt like she could exhale.

“Morning, everyone,” Y/N greeted, a smile tugging at her lips as she entered the kitchen, her eyes immediately meeting her mother’s. “Well, look who finally made it back to us! How was the flight?” her mom asked, standing up to hug her. “It was fine, just long. I missed you guys,” Y/N replied, resting her head against her mother’s shoulder for a moment, savoring the comfort of being home.

Her younger brother, Tayvion, was sitting at the table with a bowl of cereal in front of him. He grinned up at her. “You missed us, huh? Thought you’d gone Hollywood and forgotten all about us!” he teased, earning a playful swat from their older sister, Rachelle. “I could never forget about you guys,” Y/N said, sitting down at the table. Her family’s easy camaraderie was like a balm for her soul. The stress of the past week seemed to melt away in an instant.

Her grandparents were sitting at the other end of the table, their faces lighting up when they saw her. Her grandfather, always the jokester, immediately started in on her. “You finally get that big-time job and forget your roots, huh?” he teased with a wink, his voice warm and raspy with age. Y/N laughed, feeling a genuine sense of peace settle over her. “Never, Grandpa. You know I always come back here when I need to recharge.”

As the family continued to chatter, Y/N felt the familiar rhythm of home wrap around her. This was exactly what she needed—the familiar faces, the warmth, the love. It wasn’t just the food or the environment that made this place feel like home. It was the people. Her people. For the first time in days, she felt a little more like herself. Her mind, which had been racing with thoughts of Joe and everything that had happened back in Cincinnati, felt quieter. She didn’t have to worry about anything here. She could just be.

As her grandmother placed a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon in front of her, Y/N looked around at her family, feeling a sense of belonging that she hadn’t realized she’d missed so much. The chaos of her life, the questions and doubts about Joe, all of it seemed so far away here. And for a while, that was exactly what she needed. She took a deep breath and smiled, the weight in her chest easing just a little bit.

Y/N had barely stepped into the quiet comfort of her childhood bedroom before the weight of everything hit her like a wave. It was the calm she needed, the escape from the constant noise of the world outside, but it felt too still, too silent. The room smelled faintly of lavender and cedarwood, a scent her mother had always used to keep the space feeling fresh and welcoming. The soft, muted sunlight poured in through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room, and for a moment, she allowed herself to just breathe.

She sat on the edge of the bed, slowly unzipping her suitcase, the rhythm of her movements a small distraction from the whirlwind of thoughts swirling in her mind. The muted buzz of her phone from her bag served as a reminder that the world was still spinning outside her little bubble of safety. But today, she didn’t want to be a part of that world. Not yet. Y/N had intentionally muted everything—social media, texts, phone calls. She didn’t want the noise of it all; the constant chatter, the speculation, and especially the questions. She just needed time to figure things out. A few days away from it all, away from Joe, away from the weight of those conversations, might help clear the fog in her mind. So, she focused on unpacking her bag, folding her clothes, and ignoring the growing tension in her chest.

As she put a few pairs of shoes into the closet, the door to her room creaked open. Without needing to look up, Y/N knew exactly who it was. Her sister, Rachelle, always had a way of entering the room with a quiet grace, but Y/N could feel the weight of her sister’s gaze before she even spoke. Y/N tried to focus on what she was doing, neatly placing her shoes next to the closet and turning back to her suitcase, but she could feel Rachelle’s presence in the doorway, watching her.

“So… what’s going on?” Rachelle’s voice broke the silence, calm but with an edge of concern that Y/N knew too well. “You’re not usually here this early, especially not before the anniversary.” Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, and she froze mid-motion. She had hoped to keep the reason for her sudden return to Slidell a secret, at least for a little while. But Rachelle—her older sister—was too perceptive. Rachelle had always been able to read her like an open book, and now, standing there with her arms crossed, she could see right through the carefully crafted facade Y/N had been trying to maintain.

Y/N exhaled slowly, finally looking up at Rachelle. She had spent hours on the flight trying to sort through everything, and the last thing she wanted was to dive into it now. But there was no avoiding it. Rachelle wouldn’t let it slide. “I just… needed some space,” Y/N said quietly, her voice almost a whisper. “Things have been a lot lately, and I didn’t know where else to go.”

Rachelle tilted her head, studying her sister for a long moment. Y/N could see the wheels turning in her mind, but Rachelle said nothing for a few seconds. She knew her sister was waiting for more—waiting for the real reason Y/N had come home, away from everything and everyone. And Y/N wasn’t ready to give that to her yet. Instead, Rachelle took a step into the room, her eyes narrowing slightly as she perched on the edge of the bed, her gaze unwavering. “You’ve never come home early before the anniversary of Trey's passing unless something big was going on,” Rachelle continued, her voice soft but filled with quiet understanding. “So, what’s really going on, Y/N?”

Y/N’s chest tightened. She couldn’t hold it in anymore. The flood of emotions she’d been trying to keep at bay suddenly surged to the surface. The pain of losing Trey, the confusion surrounding Joe, the doubts and fears that had been growing ever since that argument. “I don’t know, Chelle,” Y/N whispered, her voice thick with emotion. She sat down next to her sister on the bed, finally letting her guard down. “I thought I had it figured out. I thought I knew what I wanted, but now I feel like I’m lost in the middle of all of this.”

Rachelle’s expression softened, and she reached out to place a gentle hand on Y/N’s shoulder, a quiet gesture that spoke volumes. It was the same way their mom had comforted her when she was younger, when the world had seemed like it was too much to handle. “You don’t have to figure everything out right now,” Rachelle said, her voice steady, full of that calming reassurance that only older siblings could give. “But you need to talk about it, Y/N. You can’t just keep it all inside. I know you—you're carrying a lot on your own, and that's not the way we do things in this family.” Y/N sighed, closing her eyes as the weight of everything she’d been holding onto for so long pressed down on her. She had always prided herself on being strong, on being able to handle things on her own. But the truth was, she didn’t know if she could handle this on her own anymore.

Rachelle looked down at Y/N’s phone, still lying untouched on the nightstand. She saw it was muted, and her eyes flickered with concern, but she didn’t press. Instead, she just squeezed Y/N’s shoulder and gave her a soft, knowing smile. “Don’t shut us out, okay? You don’t have to go through this alone.” Rachelle’s voice was gentle but firm. “You’ve always had us. You’ve got me.” Y/N nodded, tears welling up in her eyes, threatening to spill over. She hadn’t realized how badly she needed to hear that, how much she had been keeping to herself, until her sister said the words she needed to hear.

“You’ve got me,” Rachelle repeated, wrapping her arms around Y/N in a tight embrace. “Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out together.” For the first time in what felt like forever, Y/N let herself go—allowing herself to cry, to feel the weight of everything that had been building up inside her. The grief over Trey, the confusion about Joe, the overwhelming sense of being torn in two. And as her sister held her, Y/N allowed herself to feel safe. She didn’t know what the future held, didn’t know if she and Joe would ever be able to talk again, or if things would ever go back to the way they had been. But for the first time in a long while, she felt like it was okay to just take a breath, to just exist for a moment, without having to worry about everything else. She wasn’t alone, and maybe, just maybe, that would be enough for now.

The sound of laughter filled the air as Y/N sat around the table with her family, the atmosphere warm and lively. The familiar hum of conversation, punctuated by bursts of laughter, made her feel like she had finally found her footing again after the emotional whirlwind of the past few days. There was something grounding about being back here, in her family’s house, surrounded by the people who had watched her grow up, who had been there through every high and low.

Her grandparents were seated at the head of the table, with her father and mother beside them. Her siblings were spread around the table too, all talking over one another, catching up on everything from work to family gossip. The smell of her mother’s cooking—biscuits, bacon, and fresh eggs—lingered in the air, making everything feel even more familiar, comforting. Her grandmother was telling one of her favorite stories, one Y/N had heard countless times before, but it never failed to make her laugh. "You all remember the time your grandfather broke his foot, don’t you?” Grandma began with a mischievous glint in her eye, her voice light and full of energy. “He wasn’t allowed to drive because of the cast, so what did he do? Took the lawnmower instead.”

The whole table erupted in laughter, even her father, who was usually the stoic one, chuckling as he wiped a tear from his eye. Grandma continued, leaning in with the kind of playful seriousness only a grandmother could muster. “He drove that thing all the way down to the hardware store. The neighbors were staring at him like he’d lost his mind. And you know what he said?” She paused, her eyes twinkling. “He said, ‘Well, if I can’t drive a car, the lawnmower’s got wheels, doesn’t it?’” Y/N laughed along with the rest of the table, feeling the tension in her chest loosen a little more. It was the kind of moment she had missed—the kind of laughter that made everything feel light, that reminded her of how good it was to be home.

As the laughter settled down, Y/N’s eyes wandered to her grandparents, who were sitting close to one another, still holding hands after all these years. Their love for each other was evident in the small gestures—the way her grandmother would reach out to touch her grandfather’s arm when he spoke, the way he would lean in to whisper something funny into her ear. It was the kind of love Y/N had always admired, the kind of love that felt like it would withstand anything. She looked at her parents next, who were sitting across from each other, talking animatedly, but always making sure to check in with each other with shared glances and quiet smiles. They had been married for years, but there was still a sense of intimacy between them, an unspoken connection that only time could build. It was a bond that didn’t need words to be understood.

Y/N felt her heart ache just slightly as she watched them. The love they shared, so easy and natural, reminded her of what she had lost with Trey. Of course, the love they had was different, but it was still love—a deep, raw connection that went beyond words. That was what she had felt with Trey, the way they had been so in sync with each other. It had been the kind of relationship that made everything feel right, the kind of love that made you believe you could take on the world together. But then her thoughts shifted to Joe. The way he had made her feel. The intensity of it, the push and pull between them. She had never felt so seen by anyone in the way she had with him. But that was before everything got complicated. The weight of their argument, the miscommunication—it still hung between them like a heavy cloud. But as she sat there, surrounded by the warmth of her family’s love, she couldn’t help but wonder if what she felt for Joe could be something real. Something lasting. Something that wasn’t clouded by their past.

She let herself linger on the thought, not willing to chase it away just yet. For a moment, she allowed herself to imagine what it would be like to have a relationship built on that kind of foundation—the kind of love she saw in her grandparents and her parents. The kind of love she had always dreamed of. But she couldn’t shake the nagging feeling in the back of her mind. Was it too soon for her to even consider that? Was it too complicated? She thought about the argument, about how much it had hurt, and whether she and Joe could find their way back to something that resembled what her family had.

The table grew quieter for a moment, and Y/N’s father turned to look at her, his face softening with a warm, knowing smile. “What’s on your mind, sweetheart?” he asked gently. Y/N blinked, her thoughts pulling her back to the present. She gave him a small, reassuring smile. “Just thinking about everything, Dad. It’s good to be home.” Her dad nodded, his smile widening. “I know, sweetheart. You’re always welcome here. We’ve got you, no matter what.” Y/N felt a warmth spread through her chest at his words. She knew he meant it. And right now, that was all she really needed—space to breathe, time to process, and the comfort of being surrounded by people who loved her unconditionally.

As the conversation continued around her, Y/N let herself lean into the comfort of home. She wasn’t sure what the future held for her and Joe, or even if there would be a future between them. But for now, in this moment, she was content. She was home, with her family, and that was enough.

A few hours later, the house had settled into a comfortable rhythm. The sound of distant chatter from the living room mingled with the occasional clink of dishes being put away in the kitchen. Y/N sat in the cozy corner of the living room, a place she had spent countless hours growing up. Her mother, Madea, and her sister Rachelle had gathered around her. Madea sat in her old, creaky armchair, the same one she had sat in since Y/N was a little girl, with a mug of hot tea resting on her lap. Her mother sat on the couch next to her, leaning forward slightly, as if instinctively prepared to support whatever her daughter needed. Rachelle, her older sister, was sitting behind her, expertly braiding Y/N’s hair, the soft tug of the strands reminding Y/N of the peaceful days of her childhood.

It had been a long, emotional day, and now, with her hair being braided, Y/N could finally relax in the safety of her family. But she knew it was time to talk—time to get everything off her chest. There had been so much on her mind lately, so many conflicting emotions, and she couldn’t bear to keep it bottled up any longer. She needed their wisdom, their guidance. She cleared her throat, drawing the attention of her mother and grandmother.

“Madea, Mama, I need to talk to you both,” Y/N began, her voice soft but steady. The weight of what she was about to say pressed on her chest, but she knew it was time. Rachelle paused for a moment, sensing the shift in atmosphere, and kept her hands still in Y/N’s hair. Madea looked at her with those warm, knowing eyes, a silent invitation to share whatever was weighing on her. Her mother’s face softened, giving Y/N the same look of encouragement.

Y/N took a deep breath and began, feeling the words slowly pour out of her, piece by piece. “I came home because… well, a lot of things have been happening, and I needed space. I’ve been dealing with some stuff. There’s this guy—Joe.” Madea nodded, her expression calm, though her eyes gleamed with the curiosity that only a grandmother could have when it came to matters of love. “Joe, huh?” she asked, her voice gentle. “Tell us about him, baby.”

Y/N paused, trying to collect her thoughts. She hadn’t even realized how much she’d been holding back until now. “Joe’s different, Madea. He’s… kind, funny, and he makes me feel like I can breathe when I’m with him. Yet he drives me absolutely insane in so many ways, I just can’t get enough. But there’s also been a lot of confusion. The other day, we had a… disagreement. It wasn’t just any argument. It was big. And I think it’s messing with everything. I don’t know how to fix it. I don’t even know if it can be fixed.”

Rachelle, who had been listening intently, added softly, “You’re talking about him, so I’m guessing you care about him. But something’s holding you back, right?” Y/N nodded, her fingers clenching around the edge of her grandmother’s armrest. “Yeah. There’s this part of me that’s scared, Rachelle. We’ve been through so much already—between my past with Trey and everything that’s happened with Joe. The argument we had the other day… it felt like I was losing him before we even really had a chance to figure things out. And I’m scared that if I keep moving forward with him, I’m just setting myself up to be hurt again.”

The room fell silent for a moment, the weight of her words hanging in the air. Rachelle’s hands paused in her hair, her fingers lightly tracing the strands, but she didn’t say anything. Madea sat still, her eyes softened with understanding, though she remained silent, letting Y/N process her emotions. The quiet seemed to stretch on, heavy with the tension Y/N had been carrying inside her for so long.

Then, quietly but firmly, Y/N’s mother spoke up. “Do you love him?”

The question hit Y/N like a bucket of ice water, freezing her thoughts in place. She blinked, her chest tightening, as if the words themselves had knocked the breath out of her. It felt like time had paused in that moment. Her mind raced to answer, but the words lodged in her throat, unwilling to come out. Did she love him? She hadn’t fully allowed herself to think that far ahead. The idea of love had always felt complicated, layered with grief from losing Trey and fear of moving on. But now, faced with her mother’s calm yet penetrating question, Y/N realized she couldn’t hide from it any longer.

She opened her mouth, but no words came at first. Instead, she felt the walls she’d carefully built around her emotions start to crack. Her heart fluttered just thinking about Joe—his smile, the way he made her feel alive even when life felt heavy, the tenderness in his touch that made her forget the world around them. Everything about him had somehow become so intertwined with her, it was impossible to separate the feelings she had for him from the pain of her past.

“I… I don’t know,” Y/N finally murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “I think I do. But I’m scared to admit it, Mama. I’m scared to let myself feel that way again.” Her mother’s gaze softened as she moved closer, resting a hand gently on Y/N’s shoulder. “Love doesn’t come with guarantees, sweetheart. It’s not always neat or easy, and it doesn’t come with a checklist of ‘safe’ steps. But when you love someone, even with all the fear and uncertainty, you have to let yourself feel it. And you have to be willing to face the possibility of being hurt, because without that, you’re not truly giving yourself the chance to experience what love can be.”

Y/N closed her eyes for a moment, letting her mother’s words sink in. The weight of what her mom was saying didn’t escape her. Love wasn’t just about holding onto the good moments or trying to avoid the bad—it was about vulnerability, about risking yourself for the chance to build something real. But it was also about having the strength to face the uncertainty, to lean into the fear rather than run away from it. “I just don’t know if I’m ready for that,” Y/N said, feeling the heaviness of her heart as the words left her lips. “I don’t know if I can handle it.”

Madea leaned forward slightly, her voice calm and steady. “You don’t have to have all the answers right now. But you’ll never know unless you let yourself open up to it. If you love him, don’t let fear make that decision for you. Let your heart guide you, not your doubts.” Y/N bit her lip, feeling the swirl of emotions rise again. Her mind was spinning—she was scared, but the love she felt for Joe, despite all the complications, was undeniable. It wasn’t just about him; it was about what they could be, together. And if there was one thing she had learned from her own family’s love, it was that love wasn’t about being perfect. It was about showing up, even when it felt like everything was falling apart.

Madea, who had been quiet until now, spoke up, her voice soft but steady with the wisdom of a woman who had lived through much in her years. “Sweetheart, love isn’t about perfection. It’s about risk. It’s about trusting someone enough to let them in, even when you’re afraid. You can’t control the future, but you can choose to be open. You’ve been holding onto your past for so long, baby. You’ve got to let go of the fear, or it’ll keep you stuck in the past. Joe sounds like he cares for you, and if that’s true, you have to ask yourself if you’re willing to give him the chance to prove that.” Y/N felt the weight of her grandmother’s words sink deep within her. Madea had always been the one who knew exactly what to say, even when it seemed impossible to articulate her own feelings.

Her mother, who had been quietly listening, now placed a hand on Y/N’s. “Madea’s right. Love is messy. But it���s also beautiful. You’ve been through so much loss, baby. And I know it’s hard to trust again, but if you really care about Joe, you owe it to yourself to see where it can go. But you can’t let fear be your decision-maker. You have to trust that it’ll be okay, even if it’s hard.”

Y/N’s eyes filled with tears, but she didn’t let them fall. Her family had always been a steady anchor in her life, but she had never felt more vulnerable than in that moment. “I’m just so scared, Mama. I’m scared of opening up again, of being hurt. I thought Trey and I were going to grow old together. And now I’m here, trying to move on, but I can’t shake the feeling that I’m betraying him somehow.” Madea reached out and gently patted Y/N’s hand. “You’ll never forget Trey. That’s not what I’m saying, baby. But holding onto the past too tightly means you’re not giving the present a chance. What you had with Trey was special, but that doesn’t mean you can’t have something special again. Trey would want you to be happy, Y/N. He would want you to live, to love again, even if it’s scary.”

Y/N took a shaky breath, trying to process all that had been said. “I don’t know if I can. I don’t know if I can let myself love again.” Rachelle, who had been braiding Y/N’s hair the entire time, looked at her with a gentle smile. “Sis, you’re already doing it. You’re talking about it. You’re letting us in. That’s a start, right?”

Y/N nodded, feeling a mixture of fear and hope swirling inside her. She had a long way to go before figuring everything out, but for the first time in a while, she felt like she was on the right path. Her family’s support gave her the strength to take the next step, even if it felt impossible. Madea smiled at her, a small but reassuring smile that told Y/N everything she needed to know. “You don’t have to have it all figured out right now. Just take it one step at a time, baby. And when you’re ready, you’ll know what to do. Just remember, we’re all here for you.”

Y/N let out a breath she didn’t even realize she’d been holding. It wasn’t going to be easy. But maybe, just maybe, she could start to heal. Madea, ever the slick and teasing person, couldn’t resist adding her own touch of humor to the serious conversation. She leaned forward in her chair, an impish gleam in her eyes, and smirked at Y/N, making the moment feel lighter. “Not everyone can be perfect like your grandfather and I, you know,” she said, her voice dripping with playful confidence. “Now show me what this Joe looks like. I need to know who’s got my baby’s heart by the reins.”

Y/N couldn’t help but giggle at her grandmother’s teasing tone, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. She’d always adored Madea’s ability to turn any serious moment into something fun and lighthearted, a gift that seemed to keep everyone on their toes. Y/N’s cheeks flushed slightly, feeling both flattered and caught off guard by the unexpected comment. For a second, she forgot about her worries and just enjoyed being in the moment with her family. The knot of anxiety she’d carried since that argument with Joe seemed to loosen just a little.

“Well, let me show you then,” Y/N replied, her voice light but with a teasing edge of her own as she reached for her phone. She scrolled through Instagram, looking for the group picture from that night at the club—the one that had been posted to Imani's account. It had captured them all in a candid shot: laughing, smiling, and having fun. Joe stood next to her, his arm casually draped around her waist in that way he did when he was feeling comfortable and relaxed. His signature dark tee and jeans, paired with those ever-present sunglasses, gave him that effortlessly cool vibe. Y/N, in her black dress, was grinning as she leaned into him, her hair cascading over her shoulders, the two of them practically glowing under the dim club lights.

With a soft, almost nostalgic smile, Y/N handed the phone to her mother, who eagerly took it. Her mom’s eyes scanned the screen, a soft smile playing at the corners of her lips. Rachelle, still braiding Y/N’s hair, leaned over her shoulder, her curiosity piqued as she tried to get a better look. Madea and Y/N’s mom exchanged a quick glance before both of them burst into delighted grins, making Y/N feel like the most loved (and slightly embarrassed) woman in the room.

“Oh, honey, he’s fine!” Madea chuckled, her voice warm but teasing. “Look at him! That man’s got style, and it’s obvious he knows exactly what he’s doing with that look. I see why you’re smitten. I might need to have a little talk with him though. A man who looks like that better not be playing games with my grandbaby.” She winked at Y/N, who couldn’t help but laugh at her grandmother’s unabashed commentary feeling her face heat up.

Y/N’s mom joined in, her eyes soft with amusement. “I’ve never seen you like this before, Y/N. He’s got that handsome, confident air about him, doesn’t he?” She glanced over at her daughter with a knowing smile that made Y/N feel seen, in more ways than one. “You two look great together. Seriously, don’t let him get away. If you don’t take him seriously, I’ll give him a good talking-to myself.”

Rachelle, who had been silently watching the whole interaction, suddenly broke into a teasing grin. “Oh, look at you, sis, all cozy with Mr. Perfect. You’ve been holding out on us.” She reached over to grab the phone from their mother’s hand, scrolling through the picture again with exaggerated curiosity. “This man’s got you smiling like this, huh? Girl, you’ve got taste, I’ll give you that. He looks like the type who would make your heart race and still bring you coffee in the morning.”

Y/N let out a soft laugh, feeling the warmth of her family’s laughter and affection wash over her. The teasing felt so natural, so comforting—it made her feel like maybe, just maybe, this was all part of something that wasn’t just temporary. For a moment, the weight of everything that had been hanging over her seemed to lighten. Madea let out a deep sigh, leaning back in her chair, still holding the playful smirk that was so familiar to Y/N. “Well, I approve. He’s got that look that says he knows exactly what he’s about. But don’t let him get too comfortable, baby girl. I’ve got my eye on him.” She winked again, and Y/N couldn’t help but feel a mix of warmth and humor at her grandmother’s protectiveness.

Y/N’s mom chuckled softly, shaking her head at Madea. “Madea, don’t scare the poor boy off already.” Her voice was a perfect blend of teasing and affection.

Rachelle, still grinning from ear to ear, chimed in with a bit more seriousness. “Just don’t mess it up, Y/N. He seems like a keeper. Not all guys are as good as he looks—trust me.” Her voice had that knowing tone, like she had seen enough of the ups and downs in relationships to know that when it was right, it was worth holding onto. Y/N smiled again, feeling a mixture of relief and warmth. She hadn’t expected her family to be so open, so accepting, so eager to be a part of her life with Joe. Despite the lingering doubts and the uncertainty swirling in her heart, hearing her family speak so fondly of him made everything feel a little more real. It made her wonder if maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t something to run away from, even with the risk of being hurt again.

She’d taken a step forward with Joe. And hearing her family’s teasing approval—Madea’s playful comments, her mother’s gentle but firm words, Rachelle’s knowing smile—it all made her feel like maybe she wasn’t as alone in this as she thought. Maybe she wasn’t the only one who saw what Joe could be—what they could be. For the first time in a long time, Y/N felt a little lighter, like she didn’t have to carry the weight of everything on her shoulders alone. She wasn’t the only one who cared. And for now, that was enough.

“Alright, alright,” Y/N finally said, raising her hands in mock surrender as she felt the playful pressure from all sides. “I get it! He’s great, okay?” She couldn’t help but laugh again, the tension she’d been carrying slowly but surely melting away with the warmth of her family’s love and humor. Madea leaned in close, her grin widening. “That’s right, baby girl. Just don’t let him get too cocky now. You’re the prize here.”

Y/N chuckled and leaned back, feeling more at ease than she had in a long while. Maybe this time, with a little more support from the people who cared about her, she could navigate this thing with Joe. Maybe. For now, she’d let herself enjoy this moment of peace, surrounded by the people who loved her the most.

Y/N couldn’t help but smile as she scrolled through more pictures of Joe, knowing that her family was getting a kick out of seeing him through her eyes. She pulled up a few more from the Bengals' official Instagram page, showing Joe in his team promo photos. There was one where he was dressed in the Bengals’ black and orange uniform, looking every bit the confident, focused quarterback that he was, with his strong frame and that signature smolder that made him hard to look away from. Another shot showed him laughing with his teammates, his hair a little tousled, his easygoing nature shining through.

“This one’s from the team’s promo shoot,” Y/N said, holding her phone up for them to see. “He looks so serious here, but he’s actually the biggest goofball when he’s not in football mode.” Her mom, still holding the phone, nodded in approval. “I can see that. He’s got that quiet intensity. But then, look at this one—he’s got that playful energy. I can see why you’re drawn to him. A good balance.”

Madea raised an eyebrow as she looked at the photo of Joe laughing with his teammates. “Mmm, I see what you mean. He’s got that swagger, but he doesn’t take himself too seriously. I like that.” She paused and smirked. “And not bad to look at either.” Rachelle, who had been silently observing and braiding Y/N’s hair, suddenly piped up, her voice dripping with mischief. “You know what else I like?” she said, winking at Y/N, who gave her a confused look. “That man’s booty.”

Y/N’s eyes widened, her cheeks flushing instantly. “Rachelle, really?” She couldn’t help but laugh nervously, trying to ignore the image her sister had just put in her head. Madea, clearly delighted, leaned in closer, her eyes gleaming with humor. “Oh, don’t act all innocent now, Y/N. We all see it. That man’s got a fine behind. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t noticing it too. Just don’t tell your grandfather.” She smirked playfully, knowing full well she was getting under her granddaughter's skin.

Y/N rolled her eyes, shaking her head as her family erupted in laughter. “I can’t believe this,” she muttered, trying to maintain some semblance of composure as Rachelle continued to tease her. Rachelle, sensing she had struck a nerve, didn’t let up. “I mean, come on, Y/N. You’ve got a man that’s got the whole package. You’ve got the heart, the mind, and then there’s that… ass.” She laughed at the last part, causing everyone else to join in, including Y/N’s mom, who was clearly enjoying watching the dynamic unfold.

Y/N shot Rachelle a playful glare, but she couldn’t hold back her own laugh. “Okay, okay, I get it. But seriously, can we not talk about his butt like that? I’m still trying to figure out how to not feel like a blushing mess around you guys.” Madea waved her hand dismissively, still chuckling. “Baby, it’s just family. And if he’s really as good as you say, then I’m sure he won’t mind you gushing over his fine physique a little. It’s all part of the charm.”

Rachelle leaned in, eyes gleaming with a teasing glint. “All I’m saying is, you better hold on tight to him, sis. With a booty like that, he’ll have other women chasing him down.” Y/N groaned, though she couldn’t help but laugh at her sister’s antics. “You’re impossible,” she muttered, but there was no malice in her voice, just a sense of affection for her sister’s playful nature. Y/N felt her own laughter bubbling up again, as she added, “Okay, fine, I’ll admit it. He’s got a really good butt.” She rolled her eyes at her own admission, but couldn't help but laugh even more when Rachelle gave her a satisfied smirk, like she’d just won some sort of victory.

Her mom, still holding the phone, looked up with a smile. “You know, Y/N, if he’s really the one who’s got your heart, I think we need to have a talk with him. And you might want to warn him about this family.” Y/N’s heart fluttered at the idea of Joe meeting her family, though she wasn’t sure if he was ready for the full-on, playful chaos that came with it. But then again, if he was as good a guy as she thought, he’d fit right in.

Madea leaned back in her chair with a satisfied smile. “Don’t worry, Y/N. If he’s the real deal, he’ll know how to handle us. And we’ll make sure he knows how to treat you right, too.” Y/N took a deep breath, feeling lighter than she had in days. She wasn’t sure what the future held with Joe, but at least for now, surrounded by the love and humor of her family, she could relax and enjoy the moment. Maybe things didn’t have to be so complicated. Maybe they could just be… good.

“Alright,” she said, raising her hands in mock surrender, “enough about Joe’s booty. Let’s get back to my hair before it’s a full-on family roast in here.” Madea chuckled, clearly satisfied with her teasing. “Oh, honey, we’re just getting started.”

Rachelle leaned in, winking again. “Maybe next time we can discuss his you know what.” Y/N groaned dramatically, burying her face in her hands. “I swear, I’m never going to hear the end of this, am I?”

Her family erupted into laughter, Rachelle flashing her an innocent look. “What? Just keeping things interesting, sis. You know we love a good roast around here.” She winked again, her teasing tone light but filled with affection. Madea chuckled softly from her spot across the room. “Oh, honey, it’s all in good fun. But don’t you worry, we’ll have him figured out soon enough. We can’t let just anyone into this family without a little scrutiny.”

Y/N sat back, feeling a wave of warmth wash over her. There was a certain comfort in knowing that no matter how complicated things might get with Joe—or with anything in her life—she had this solid foundation of love and support from her family. The teasing, the jokes, the sense of humor—it was all a reminder that they were there, rooting for her, and willing to call out her choices with love and laughter. As Rachelle continued braiding her hair, the atmosphere in the room lightened. Y/N let herself relax fully into the moment, allowing her laughter to ease the tension she had been holding onto for so long. There were still questions to be answered, uncertainties to be worked through, but for the first time in a while, she felt like things could be okay. Maybe even more than okay.

Her mom looked at her with a soft, knowing smile, her voice gentle. “Y/N, I know this is all new, and I know you’ve been through a lot. But if Joe’s the one you want to be with, if you see something in him, then you don’t have to be afraid to take that step. Just take it slow, and trust your heart.” Madea nodded sagely, her tone surprisingly tender. “Your heart’s been through a lot, baby, but it’s a strong one. Trust it. And don’t let anyone rush you.”

Y/N took in her mom’s words, feeling them settle in her chest. She hadn’t been able to hear it before, but now, with the support of the women who knew her best, it felt easier to breathe. Maybe she didn’t have all the answers about Joe, or about what was going to happen next, but she wasn’t alone in the journey. “Thanks, Mom. Thanks, Madea,” she said quietly, giving them both a grateful smile.

Rachelle, still braiding her hair with a focused expression, chimed in, “You know, sis, it’s okay to be scared. But just don’t let that fear stop you from going after what you want. And if Joe is what you want, then you better believe we’ll be here for all of it.” She paused, giving her sister a playful grin. “And, uh, maybe we’ll even help you pick out some cute outfits for the next time you go out with him, just to make sure he’s really getting the full picture.” Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a laugh. “You are too much, Rachelle.”

Her mom chuckled softly. “She’s right, though. You deserve to go after what makes you happy, and if that’s Joe, then we’ll be here to support you every step of the way.” Y/N nodded, feeling lighter than she had in days. Her family’s support, their laughter, their playful teasing—it was exactly what she needed. She was still figuring things out, still processing everything with Joe, but having her family’s love behind her made all the difference.

As the evening stretched on, and the teasing finally subsided, Y/N realized something she hadn’t expected. In the midst of all the questions and uncertainties, she had found a quiet kind of peace. Her family’s affection, their genuine care, and their humor had reminded her of what mattered most—love, connection, and the courage to take chances, even when it felt scary. For the first time in a while, she felt like she could breathe without the weight of everything pressing on her chest. And maybe, just maybe, she could start to believe that things with Joe could be good. No matter where it went, she knew she had people who loved her and had her back, and that was enough for now.

“Alright, enough about Joe’s fine ass and his everything else,” Y/N said, holding up her hands in surrender once more. “Let’s finish this braid before I really lose my mind.”

Her family burst into another round of laughter, and Y/N couldn’t help but smile, knowing that no matter what happened next, she was exactly where she needed to be. The soft murmur of laughter and playful chatter filled the room as Y/N’s dad and grandfather entered the living room, their footsteps heavy but steady, carrying an air of familiarity and strength. Her dad, wearing his worn-in jeans and a loose shirt, paused in the doorway, raising an eyebrow as he surveyed the scene. His lips curled into a teasing grin.

“What’s all this chatter in here?” he asked, his voice warm with amusement, but clearly curious about the burst of laughter coming from the women in the room. Y/N’s mom, who had been seated next to Madea, was pulled up gently by her husband, his strong hand on her waist as he guided her to sit beside him on the couch. His movements were fluid and easy, the kind that only comes with years of being completely in tune with one another. She smiled softly as he settled into his usual spot, his large frame comfortable in the chair, pulling her to sit on his lap, much to everyone’s enjoyment.

Rachelle, never one to pass up an opportunity to tease, leaned back in her chair with a sly grin on her face. “Oh, just ogling Y/N’s fine and shiny man,” she said, her voice filled with playful mischief as she threw Y/N a wink.

Y/N's cheeks flamed instantly, her stomach twisting in that familiar, uncomfortable way whenever her family went full-on into teasing mode. She groaned, throwing her head back in embarrassment. “Rachelle, seriously?” She immediately reached over to pinch her sister’s leg, trying to stifle a laugh but unable to hide the warmth spreading across her face. Her dad and grandfather exchanged an amused glance, their grins matching each other’s. Y/N’s dad chuckled, shaking his head as he shifted a little to get more comfortable. “So, let me get this straight,” he said with a raised brow, his eyes twinkling with humor. “We’re talking about my daughter’s… shiny man?” He couldn't help but laugh as he said it, thoroughly entertained by the way Rachelle was winding her sister up.

Y/N's grandfather, who had been sitting quietly in the corner, his graying beard soft and well-kept, let out a low chuckle, his deep voice rumbling in the room. “Sounds like a fine man if you ask me. I see the girls are giving him their stamp of approval. But, Y/N,” he added, turning his gaze to his granddaughter, “I hope you’re not just all talk about this guy. We’ll need to see him in person before we make any decisions.” He gave her a wink that made everyone laugh. Y/N’s face was a mix of frustration and amusement as she playfully smacked her forehead. “This is not how I imagined coming home,” she muttered under her breath, but she couldn’t keep the smile from tugging at the corners of her lips. She was used to the teasing, but it still felt overwhelming at times, especially when it was about Joe. She wasn’t even sure what was going on with him yet, and here her entire family was, already making assumptions.

Rachelle, obviously reveling in her success, leaned back and stretched her arms over her head in mock innocence. “What? I’m just saying, Y/N’s been holding out on us. You’ve been hanging out with a guy who looks like that and you’re not telling us all the juicy details?”

Y/N’s dad and grandfather exchanged a quick look, both noticing the playful banter happening between the women. Y/N’s dad raised an eyebrow, his expression shifting to one of curiosity. “Okay, okay, enough of all this giggling,” he said, leaning forward a bit. “Who exactly are we talking about here?” Before Y/N could even open her mouth to respond, Rachelle’s mischievous grin spread wide across her face, her eyes gleaming with playful delight. “Oh, you know,” she said with exaggerated emphasis, “Thickums!” Y/N’s eyes went wide, her face immediately burning a deep shade of crimson. She had been really hoping her sister wouldn’t drop that nickname in front of their parents. She let out a mortified groan, feeling the heat in her cheeks intensifying with every passing second.

Her mom and grandmother both erupted into laughter, loud and full of warmth, the sound echoing through the room. Madea wiped a tear from the corner of her eye, still chuckling. “Thickums?” she said between giggles, shaking her head. “Lord, have mercy, girl. You know, if you’re gonna call him that, you better be ready for us to steal him right from under you.” Y/N groaned, rolling her eyes as she couldn’t hide her embarrassment any longer. She felt completely exposed, especially since Rachelle was still sitting behind her, working her braid, leaving her no way to discreetly hide her blushing face. The teasing from her family was relentless, and she was starting to think they were going to milk this for all it was worth.

Y/N's dad smirked, clearly enjoying the show, but his voice was teasing yet laced with affection. “Thickums, huh? Is that what we're calling him now?” He exchanged another glance with Y/N’s grandfather, who was trying—unsuccessfully—not to laugh himself. Grandpa leaned back in his chair, his deep voice rumbling with amusement. “I don’t know, Y/N,” he said, looking at her with a half-smile. “I think I need to see this ‘Thickums’ for myself before I can make any judgments. Sounds like he’s got a whole lot going for him.”

Y/N couldn’t take it anymore. She rolled her eyes, trying to play it cool, but her hands trembled slightly as she grabbed her phone. The teasing from her family was more than she’d bargained for, but there was no escaping it now. She opened the same photo she had shown earlier—the one from the club, with her and Joe laughing together, him in his signature dark tee and her in her dress, standing close, clearly comfortable in each other’s presence. Y/N handed the phone to her dad, feeling a mix of embarrassment and affection. "Here. This is him," she muttered, hoping the focus would shift onto the photo and not the nickname.

Her dad took the phone, his expression softening as he took in the image of Joe. His eyes scanned the photo, clearly taking in the details of the man who had sparked so much playful banter. After a moment, he looked up at Y/N with a knowing smile. “Well, I can see why you’re all fired up,” he said, a teasing edge to his voice. “Not bad at all. Looks like someone’s got herself a fine man.” He handed the phone to her grandfather, who studied the picture with a thoughtful nod.

Y/N’s grandfather held the phone in his rough hands, his eyes narrowing as he scrutinized the image. “Mmm,” he grunted, clearly impressed. “I see what you’re talking about. He’s got that charm about him, doesn’t he?” He handed the phone back to Y/N with a wink. “Thickums, huh? Don’t let him hear that one. But yeah, I can see why you like him.”

Y/N felt the pressure start to ease just a little as her dad and grandfather seemed to approve. But the teasing was far from over. Rachelle, now done braiding Y/N’s hair, leaned forward with a sly grin. “I’m just saying,” she added, “Thickums is definitely the whole package.” She waggled her eyebrows dramatically, causing everyone to laugh again, including Y/N’s mom, who was still snickering in the background. Y/N buried her face in her hands, completely overwhelmed, but the laughter around her made it easier to take. It wasn’t mean-spirited—it was just her family being her family. And as much as she tried to hide it, she couldn’t help but feel a little warmth in her chest, knowing they had her back, even if it was in the most embarrassing way possible.

Her dad, sensing his daughter’s discomfort but still enjoying the moment, nudged Y/N gently. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. We just want to make sure he’s good enough for you. Thickums or not,” he added with a wink, clearly not letting go of that nickname anytime soon.

Y/N looked at him, half-smiling despite herself. “I’ll never live this down, will I?” Rachelle, still grinning from ear to ear, shook her head. “Not a chance.” Madea leaned in, looking more serious now, though the playful gleam never left her eyes. “Alright, alright, enough with the jokes. But seriously, Y/N, if he’s the one that’s making you smile like this, that’s all that matters. We’ll be here for you, no matter what. And if we need to give him the third-degree, you know we’re ready for that too.” Y/N’s heart warmed at her grandmother’s words, and she nodded gratefully. Despite the teasing, despite the embarrassing moments, this was exactly where she needed to be—surrounded by the people who loved her, and who’d make sure she didn’t settle for anything less than someone who truly cared for her.

With a final sigh, Y/N looked around at her family, her heart a little lighter. “Alright,” she said, “I get it. You all love to embarrass me. But seriously, can we give Joe a break for, like, five minutes?” Her dad laughed, reaching over to ruffle her hair. “We’ll see, kiddo. But don’t think he’s getting off the hook that easy. He’s got us to deal with now.”

Y/N groaned, trying desperately to steer the attention away from herself. She sat up straighter, shaking her head and letting out a dramatic sigh. “Okay, okay, can we please focus on something else? How about we talk about anything but Joe's ‘fine behind’?” she pleaded, her face still flushed from the teasing. But her sister Rachelle, always one to seize an opportunity, smirked and leaned in with that mischievous glint in her eye. “You know, Y/N, I’m just trying to make sure you’re not missing out on anything important.” She turned to their grandmother. “Madea, tell us again what you said earlier. I’m sure everyone would love to hear that little gem.”

Y/N’s eyes widened in horror as Rachelle opened the floodgates. “Rachelle, no!” she hissed under her breath, but it was already too late. Madea, clearly enjoying every second of it, leaned back in her chair and gave Y/N a sly grin. “Oh, honey, don’t act all innocent now,” she teased. “I said, We all see it. That man’s got a fine behind. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t noticing it too. Just don’t tell your grandfather.”

Y/N's mouth dropped open in disbelief, her face turning an even deeper shade of red as the room erupted in laughter. Her grandfather, pretending to be scandalized, put a hand over his heart and let out an exaggerated gasp. “Might have to break out these big boys,” he said, flexing his biceps with a grin that was equal parts playful and intimidating. He flexed both arms, his muscles bulging comically as he looked down at his biceps. “Can’t have this youngster stealing my lady,” he added, giving an exaggerated wink to Madea, who just rolled her eyes and shook her head.

The sight of Y/N’s tough grandfather striking a bodybuilder pose sent everyone into fits of laughter again. Y/N covered her face with both hands, laughing despite herself. “Grandpa, please stop,” she begged, unable to hold back her giggles. “I can’t take this anymore!” Her dad, still chuckling, leaned over to Y/N and whispered, “You know, if he keeps flexing like that, you might have some competition, kiddo. You might have to start watching your back!”

Her mom joined in, nudging her husband teasingly. “Careful now, you might not be the only one getting attention around here.” Y/N threw her hands up in defeat, laughing through the embarrassment. “I swear, this family is impossible,” she muttered, though there was no real heat in her words. She couldn’t help but feel grateful for the warmth and humor in the room, even if it came at her expense.

Madea, wiping away a tear of laughter, turned back to Y/N with a softer smile. “Baby, we’re just playing. But seriously—if he’s the one who’s making you happy, then that’s all that matters. You deserve someone who treats you right.” Her tone turned a little more serious, but the playful twinkle never left her eyes. “You’ve been through a lot, Y/N. Don’t let anything or anyone take that smile away from you.” Y/N’s heart swelled at her grandmother’s words, and she nodded, feeling a rush of affection for her family. It was moments like this—these lighthearted, chaotic, and sometimes embarrassing moments—that reminded her how lucky she was to be surrounded by people who loved her unconditionally.

Her grandfather leaned forward again, his flexing arm still on display, as he added, “Don’t worry, baby girl. I’ll keep an eye on him. Thickums or not, he’ll have to pass the family test first.” Everyone laughed again, and Y/N could only shake her head, feeling the weight of the world slip off her shoulders. She had never expected a reunion with her family to involve so much teasing, but it was exactly what she needed. It was normal. It was love. And most importantly, it made her realize just how lucky she was to be able to share her life with them, no matter how complicated things might get with Joe.

As the laughter died down, Y/N found herself smiling more than she had in days. For the first time in a while, she felt lighter, like maybe she wasn’t carrying all the weight of her emotions alone. Her family’s playful teasing, their support, and their love made it clear that no matter what happened with Joe, she had a solid foundation to stand on.

And that, for now, was enough.

Her dad grinned, his hand resting on his wife’s waist as he looked at Y/N with that affectionate yet protective gaze he always had. “Well, if he’s someone worth keeping around, we’ll meet him eventually, won’t we? It’s only a matter of time. But just know, young lady, we’re a tough crowd to impress.” He winked at his daughter, though his tone was lighthearted. He knew the way the world could be, and he didn’t want her to rush into anything she wasn’t sure about.

Y/N's grandfather, ever the man of few words but plenty of wisdom, leaned forward slightly, his deep-set eyes locked on Y/N. “That’s right,” he said, his tone firm yet filled with the same warmth that had been a constant in her life. “You take your time, girl. No need to rush into anything. But remember, family’s always watching, and we’ll always have your back.” Y/N’s heart swelled with appreciation, knowing that even if they were teasing her relentlessly, her family would never let her go through anything alone. They had her back, and that meant more than anything.

Rachelle nudged her again, this time more gently, but still with a playful grin. “Don’t act so embarrassed, sis. You’re the one who’s been keeping Mr. Shiny Man a secret for so long. We just wanna make sure he’s good enough for you.” Y/N shook her head, her laughter finally bubbling up, the tension in her chest easing just a little. “Okay, okay, I get it. You’re all ridiculous,” she said, her eyes dancing with amusement. “But can we please, please stop talking about Joe’s ‘shiny’—and apparently fine—body parts?”

Her mom laughed softly as she leaned back against her husband’s chest, clearly enjoying the lightheartedness of the moment. “We’re just teasing, Y/N. And hey, if he’s really ‘the one,’ we’ll let him stick around for a while. We’re just making sure he knows he’s entering the lion’s den.” Y/N sighed, her head resting back against the couch as she exchanged a look with Rachelle. “Well, if he ever meets all of you, I’m pretty sure he’ll run for the hills.”

Her dad let out a deep laugh, pulling her mom in a little closer. “I doubt it, sweetheart. If he’s got any sense, he’ll stick around and show us he’s worthy of being in this family. We’ve got a way of testing people, you know.” Y/N smirked, rolling her eyes. “I don’t think Joe’s ready for all of you, but we'll see.”

Her grandfather chuckled again, his voice steady as he leaned back in his chair. “Don’t worry, girl. If he’s a good man, he’ll know how to hold his ground. We just want what’s best for you.” Y/N couldn’t help but smile, feeling a deep sense of love and warmth wash over her. Despite all the chaos and the teasing, there was no mistaking how much her family cared for her. And maybe, just maybe, that would be enough to guide her through the uncertainty with Joe. With that, the conversation drifted to lighter, more casual topics, and the room filled with easy laughter once again. Y/N knew things with Joe weren’t simple, but with the love and support of her family, she felt like she could take on whatever came next—teasing, challenges, and all.

♪♫•*¨*•.¸¸❤¸¸.•*¨*•♫♪

Joe sat on the edge of his bed, phone clutched tightly in his hand as he stared at the picture that had caused so much trouble. He knew the photo didn’t paint the full picture. In fact, it barely scratched the surface of what had really happened. The woman in the photo had been nothing but a distraction, and Joe had brushed her off within seconds. But of course, people didn’t see that. They saw what they wanted to see—a picture that could easily be misconstrued, especially with the rumors that would inevitably follow.

He ran a hand through his hair, frustration bubbling up. Joe had never been one to care much about rumors, but when it came to Y/N—when it came to her feelings—he couldn’t stand to see her hurt by something he hadn’t even done. He needed to make sure she knew the truth. He needed to make sure she knew he was all in. His fingers hovered over the screen, wondering how best to explain himself. He’d already tried texting her, but she’d gone silent on him, and that was driving him insane. He couldn’t just let it slide. Joe wasn’t that kind of guy. Not when it came to Y/N.

Sighing, he opened up his messages to Imani and Keisha. At least they could help him figure out how to approach this. They both knew him well enough to understand that he wasn’t interested in anyone else. He was focused on Y/N, and that was the only person he cared about. “Hey, just wanted to clear this up. That picture from the bar—nothing happened. I brushed the girl off right after that. I’m all in when it comes to Y/N, and I mean that. I’ve been trying to figure out how to explain this to her, but she stopped texting me, and I’m not sure what to do now.”

He paused for a moment, then added more, wanting to drive his point home. “I really care about her, and I’m not trying to mess this up. Just don’t know how to get through to her right now.” He stared at the message for a moment before hitting send. As soon as he did, he felt a little better—like he had put his thoughts out into the world, and now he just had to wait for a response. He sat back, running his hands over his face, trying to shake off the nerves that were eating at him. He knew he needed to stay calm, but everything felt so up in the air. How could he get Y/N to trust him again when she probably thought he had been flirting with someone else? Worse, what if she thought he was playing games with her?

His phone buzzed, and he scrambled to grab it, hoping for some kind of answer. Imani had replied first. Imani: “I got your back, Joe. Don’t worry about the rumors. We’ll help you get in touch with her. We know you’re serious about her.”

Joe’s shoulders relaxed slightly as he read her message. He wasn’t completely alone in this. Keisha: “You just gotta be patient, Joe. She’s probably just processing everything. But if you’re really in it for her, she’ll come around. Just give her space and time.”

Joe nodded to himself, feeling a little more grounded. Both Imani and Keisha were right—he couldn’t force anything. He had to give Y/N the time she needed to think things through. All he could do was make sure she knew where he stood. And that meant being honest, even if it was tough. He quickly typed out a response to both of them. “Thanks, guys. I appreciate it. I just need to figure out what to do next. I’ll stay patient, but I can’t just leave it like this. I’ll get to her somehow.”

He took a deep breath and set his phone down, pushing aside the nagging feeling in his chest. It wasn’t going to help him to sit here and dwell on it. He needed to focus—on practice, on everything else that needed his attention. If he could manage to focus on the field, maybe that would help calm his nerves. He stood up, moving toward his closet. He quickly picked out a black T-shirt that fit just right, a pair of dark jeans, and his favorite sneakers. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror as he buttoned up his shirt. His face still looked a little worn, tired from the lack of sleep and the constant worry over Y/N. He’d been so distracted that he hadn’t even had the chance to focus on his own preparation for the day.

Shaking his head, Joe grabbed his keys, his mind still on Y/N. The idea of her being hurt by the picture gnawed at him. He wasn’t sure when she’d stopped texting him—he hadn’t noticed at first, too wrapped up in his own stress. But now that he realized it, he was even more concerned. Had he completely messed things up? Was she over him already? As he left his hotel room, he tried to shake the thoughts off, but they clung to him. He had a meeting with his publicist before practice. Hopefully, she would help him figure out what to do next—maybe even give him some advice on how to deal with the media fallout from the picture.

The brisk morning air hit his face as he walked to the car, and he couldn’t help but wonder if he was heading in the right direction with all of this. What if Y/N never came around? What if this was it? He pushed the thought aside as he slid into his car. He’d dealt with pressure before. This was no different. He couldn’t let himself get distracted. Not now.

Driving to the facility, his phone buzzed again, but he didn’t check it. He needed to focus. There would be time to figure things out with Y/N later. Right now, he had a responsibility to the team, to himself, and to the future they could still have—if she gave him the chance. He reached the facility just as the morning sun began to light up the parking lot, and for the first time today, he felt a flicker of hope that maybe things would get better. He just needed to get through this. And then, hopefully, he’d get the chance to prove to Y/N that he was all in. Joe sat down in the small conference room with his publicist, Rachel, who had already started laying out the plan. He knew he needed to be proactive in handling the fallout from the photo, especially since things with Y/N were still up in the air.

Rachel was calm, methodical, and professional, everything Joe admired in someone who handled the media side of his career. She laid out several ideas for press statements, interviews, and how he could navigate the next few days. “Here’s what I’m thinking,” Rachel said, her fingers tapping on her tablet. “We can issue a statement, but it’s important that we don’t overdo it. The more you try to over-explain, the more people will speculate. Instead, we’ll make it clear that you’ve been focused on football, that the rumors aren’t accurate, and that you’re focused on moving forward. People love a quiet, confident response. It’ll play in your favor.”

Joe nodded, running a hand through his hair as he absorbed her words. “I agree,” he said. “Just make sure Y/N doesn’t feel like she’s getting lost in this, too. I need her to know that I’m all in, and that this isn't some... short-term thing.” Rachel gave him a look, half sympathetic, half amused. “I get it, Joe. But you can’t control what the media says. What you can control is your own actions. Focus on that. Let Y/N see that you’re serious.” “I will,” Joe said, standing up as the meeting wrapped. He felt a little better, more in control. The plan would work—he just had to stick to it. After all, getting his life back on track, both professionally and personally, was what mattered most.

He left the meeting feeling lighter and more focused. His publicist had given him a roadmap, but now he had to focus on the biggest priority: Y/N. He couldn’t let this mess with her linger. His thoughts were still running wild as he walked through the locker room to the practice field, and he made sure to make a quick stop at the coach's office before heading out. He was already mentally preparing himself for how he would address Y/N when he saw her. He could handle this. He just needed to talk to her.

But when he stepped onto the field and saw Keisha and Imani standing together by the water cooler, he immediately noticed the absence. No Y/N. His chest tightened, and a small knot formed in his stomach. Walking up to the girls during the break, he gave them a small wave, but his gaze quickly shifted to the empty spot where Y/N usually stood. It was hard not to notice her absence—it was like the air felt different without her there.

“Hey, have you seen Y/N?” he asked, trying to keep his voice steady. He wasn’t sure why he felt this strange sense of dread, but he couldn’t shake it. She’d been avoiding his texts, but he had hoped she’d be here. Imani and Keisha exchanged a look. The way their eyes flicked between each other immediately made Joe uneasy. He opened his mouth, ready to ask again, but Imani sighed, her face softening in sympathy.

“She went home, Joe,” she said quietly, her voice tinged with hesitation. Joe’s heart stopped for a beat. His feet felt like they were glued to the ground as the words registered in his brain. “Home?” he asked, his tone a little sharper than he meant. “What do you mean, she went home?” Keisha stepped forward, placing a hand gently on his shoulder, her voice gentle but firm. “She went back to Louisiana. She wasn’t answering your texts, and she needed space. It’s been a lot with everything happening at once. She just needed to go back to her family for a while.”

Joe stood there, shocked, unable to fully process what he was hearing. “She—she left?” He repeated the words to himself as if they didn’t make sense, his mind racing. Imani shifted on her feet, clearly uncomfortable. “Look, Joe… I know this wasn’t how you wanted things to go. But she’s been through a lot, and when things get too overwhelming, Y/N shuts down. She doesn’t always handle things in the most obvious way. And right now, she just needs time.”

Joe’s mind spun, the words blurring together. She’s gone? All of the plans he had—his ideas about clearing things up with her, telling her how serious he was—seemed to be slipping through his fingers. “She didn’t say anything to me,” Joe muttered under his breath, his frustration seeping into his voice. He couldn't stop the feeling of helplessness that was creeping in. He hadn’t gotten a chance to explain himself, and now, she was halfway across the country.

Imani and Keisha both looked at him with sympathy, but neither one of them said anything more. They knew how he felt about Y/N—how much he wanted to make things right. They also knew that trying to push things too much with Y/N was only going to make things worse. “I need to call her,” Joe said, his voice thick with frustration. His thumb hovered over his phone screen, but he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say. His heart was racing, and he didn’t want to say the wrong thing. “Joe, you’re going to have to let her come to you,” Keisha said softly. “You can’t fix this by pushing. Just give her the space she needs. She’s with her family right now. She’ll reach out when she’s ready.”

Joe took a deep breath, his mind spinning. He had to let go, at least for now. But the uncertainty was killing him. Would she reach out? Would she come back to him when she was ready? All he could do was wait, and that was the hardest part of all. He let out a slow breath and nodded at Keisha and Imani, forcing a smile as he turned toward the field. But the weight of everything—his career, Y/N, the distance between them—felt heavier than ever. And for the first time in a long while, Joe wasn’t sure how he was going to make it through the day.

♪♫•*¨*•.¸¸❤¸¸.•*¨*•♫♪

The car ride to the cemetery was quiet, with the hum of the engine and the occasional rustle of the wind outside filling the space. Rachelle drove, her hands relaxed on the wheel, but Y/N could tell her sister was just as lost in thought as she was. It wasn’t that they didn’t talk—they had their moments of casual chatter—but today felt different. Y/N had been quiet since they left the house, her eyes staring out the window, thinking about everything that had happened over the past few days. When they arrived, Y/N could already feel the weight of the place before they even got out of the car. The cemetery was peaceful, almost serene, but it carried the weight of memories she wasn’t sure she was ready to face. But she had to. For herself. For Trey. For the clarity she needed.

Rachelle parked the car, and Y/N both got out. She grabbed the picnic basket from the backseat, her hands tight around the handle. It was something she’d done countless times before—coming here with a basket full of food, flowers, and a blanket. It had become a kind of tradition, a ritual of sorts, that she had built with herself. She didn’t know when it started, but at some point after Trey’s passing, she began to bring food and sit there, talking to the gravestone like it was the most natural thing in the world.

She walked slowly down the path, the crunch of gravel under their feet the only sound besides their quiet breaths. Rachelle gave her a glance, but Y/N didn’t look up. She knew her sister was probably worried, but Y/N wasn’t ready to talk just yet. Her sister Rachelle had stayed in the car, giving her the space she needed. Y/N knew that Rachelle would have stayed by her side if she asked, but this was something she needed to do on her own. It had always been like this when she came here, a ritual she had built for herself after everything had happened with Trey. She would come, talk to him, cry, laugh, and sometimes, she would even feel a little bit of peace.

She walked slowly down the path, the crunch of gravel under her feet the only sound besides their quiet breaths. When she reached Trey’s plot, Y/N stopped. It felt like time had frozen for a moment, the reality of the cemetery settling around her like an unspoken weight. She stood there, looking down at the headstone, feeling the familiar ache in her chest. The stone was cool to the touch as she gently ran her fingers along it, brushing off some dust that had settled over the years. She could almost feel him there, like she always did when she visited. The wind was still, the trees barely rustling in the background, and it felt almost as though the whole world was waiting for her to speak.

She set down the basket and flowers and then spread the blanket over the grass, letting out a deep sigh as she sat down, her legs crossed. The soft fabric of the blanket felt comforting beneath her, a grounding sensation she desperately needed. She wiped away the few tears that had started to well in her eyes, her breath shaky as she gathered her thoughts. The cemetery was quiet, with only the soft rustling of the wind and the occasional bird calling out in the distance. Y/N sat on the blanket, feeling the weight of the moment settle around her. It had been a while since she had come here like this, with the flowers and the food, but today it felt right. She wasn’t sure what she was hoping for—some sort of answer from the universe, a sign from Trey, or just the comfort of being near him again. Whatever it was, it was something she needed.

The picnic basket sat beside her, and she carefully unpacked it, laying out the food and drink she had brought. She hadn’t been hungry in the usual sense, but there was something comforting about the act of preparing a meal, of feeling like she was still giving something to Trey, even though he wasn’t there in the way she wished he were. She had brought his favorite foods: a sandwich, chips, and some fruit. It wasn’t much, but it was what she could offer. Y/N carefully set the flowers down on the grave, the white lilies a stark contrast to the deep green of the grass. She paused for a moment, allowing herself a few seconds to breathe, to reflect on the person Trey had been and how much she had loved him. The grief still hung on her like a heavy cloak, but somehow, being here, by his side, gave her a feeling of closeness that she hadn’t been able to find anywhere else.

"Hey, Trey," she whispered, her voice barely above a murmur, the words tasting bittersweet on her tongue. Her fingers twisting the ring, the engagement ring he had given her, that was held by a gold chain. The symbol of the promise of their stolen future, their forever. "I know I’ve been gone for a little while… but I needed to come talk to you." Her heart clenched at the emptiness that seemed to echo between her words and the grave. She wasn’t sure if she was speaking to him in some hopeful, naive way or if it was just a way of keeping his memory alive in her. Either way, it was what she needed. She had to.

"I’ve been… I’ve been figuring things out, Trey. But it's hard. You know how I am with all this change." She let out a half-laugh, half-sob. "It’s like everything is moving so fast, and I don’t know if I’m ready for all of it. Joe, him being in my life again—it's been a whirlwind, and part of me wants to pull away from it all because I’m scared of getting hurt. But I can't stop thinking about him." Y/N paused, closing her eyes for a moment. She tried to picture Trey’s face, his smile, the way he always seemed to know exactly what to say to make her feel safe. But that was before. Before the tragedy that had torn everything apart.

"Do you think I’m doing the right thing?" she asked, her voice wavering. "I keep thinking about what you’d say, and I don’t know, maybe it’s just me being afraid of letting someone in again. I don't want to lose someone like I lost you." The words hung in the air, leaving an emptiness that only made the pain sharper. She looked down at the flowers she’d brought—a bouquet of his favorite white lilies—and carefully set them down at the base of the stone, her fingers lingering there as if she were waiting for something to come back to her. "You always said I should keep moving forward," she whispered, her voice soft, as if she were afraid the wind would carry her words away. "But I don’t know how, Trey. I don’t know how to move forward without you. How do I do this? How do I let someone else in when it feels like my heart is still yours?"

Her heart clenched as the memories of their time together rushed forward—Trey's laugh, the way he held her hand, the way he made her feel safe, no matter what. She could almost hear his voice in her head, teasing her about being dramatic, about being too much of a perfectionist. But his words always had a way of calming her down. His confidence in her, his love for her—it was something she’d never find again. Or at least, she didn’t think she could. Y/N let her fingers trail along the edge of the gravestone, the cool stone against her skin offering some semblance of comfort. "I keep thinking about Joe. About how much I want to let him in. But then I get scared. I get scared because of what happened. What if I lose him, too? What if my heart breaks again, and I can’t handle it?"

She felt a lump rise in her throat, the emotion threatening to break through the surface. She didn’t want to cry—didn’t want to feel that raw, aching sadness again—but she couldn’t stop it. Her tears fell softly onto the blanket, the weight of everything pushing down on her chest. "I don’t know, Trey," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I don’t know if I’m ready for this. I’m so scared. But at the same time, I feel like I should be. Joe—he makes me feel things I didn’t think I could feel again. But then I pull away, and I don’t know how to stop."

The words seemed to linger in the air, unanswered, hanging between her and the grave. She wasn’t sure if she was speaking to him for reassurance, or if it was just something she needed to say out loud to finally get some clarity. It felt like a moment of surrender, one where she admitted to herself that maybe she was ready. But it also felt like a fragile moment—like saying it out loud would somehow make it real, and if it didn’t work out, the pain would be even harder to bear. Y/N wiped the tears from her eyes, trying to steady her breathing. She was exhausted from carrying all this weight by herself. She needed to be strong, but it was hard. "I want to make it work with him, Trey. I really do. But I’m scared. I don’t want to mess things up."

For a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath around her, the stillness of the cemetery providing an almost sacred space for her to let out all the emotions she had been bottling up. The wind picked up slightly, rustling the leaves on the nearby trees.

Rachelle, could be seen through the windows, her figure still in the driver’s seat, waiting patiently for her sister. Y/N knew that her sister was giving her the space she needed. And Y/N was grateful for it, knowing that Rachelle would never push her to do anything before she was ready. But still, part of Y/N wished her sister would come over, sit beside her, and offer her some words of wisdom. Rachelle had always been the practical one, the one who helped Y/N see things clearly when her emotions clouded her judgment. She was the one who knew when to listen and when to speak, and Y/N appreciated that more than she could ever say.

Y/N finally looked down at the basket again, reaching for the small sandwich she had packed for herself. She picked it up absently, but before she could take a bite, she glanced at the spot next to her, where Trey’s gravestone stood, as if waiting for a response. She hadn’t expected one, but in that moment, it almost felt as if he were there, sitting beside her, offering the comfort she so desperately needed. "I don’t know if I’ll ever fully be ready for everything, Trey. But I’m going to try. I’m going to try for myself... and for him." With that, she finally ate, the first bite a small but significant act of moving forward. She wasn’t sure what would come next, or how everything would unfold with Joe. But sitting there, with Trey’s memory as her anchor and the cool air brushing against her face, she knew that at least for this moment, she was okay. And sometimes, that was enough.

The journey wasn’t over, but it had started again in a way she hadn’t expected. She didn’t have all the answers, and she wasn’t sure how things with Joe would play out, but she knew one thing for sure—she was ready to keep moving forward. Y/N sat quietly on the blanket, the cemetery stretching out around her in peaceful, almost reverential silence. The distant sound of rustling leaves was the only sound that disturbed the stillness, but even that felt like it was part of the moment—part of the conversation she was having, not just with the gravestone but with the memories of Trey that still lived within her.

Her fingers ran over the smooth, cold surface of the marble stone as if tracing the edges of time itself. The etching of Trey’s name under his smiling face still caught her breath, reminding her of a time when the world felt more certain, when love had been full of possibility instead of this quiet, lingering grief. As she sat there, the weight of everything—the loss, the love, the past, the future—pressed gently against her chest. She felt the pressure of it but didn't pull away. She couldn’t. Not yet. "You know I'll love you forever, Trey," she whispered, the words coming softly, but with such intensity that it almost hurt. It wasn’t just a promise anymore; it was the truth, a truth so deeply embedded in her heart that it would never leave.

Her voice cracked, faltering under the strain of emotions she’d carried for so long, but she pushed through it. She couldn’t break down now, not here, not when she’d made her way to this moment. There was a delicate sort of peace in this place, and she was determined to hold onto it. The sun was beginning its descent behind the trees, casting a warm glow across the cemetery. Y/N lowered her gaze, her fingers trembling slightly as they hovered over the smooth surface of the stone. She needed something—anything—to help her bridge the gap between now and then. She needed to know, in some way, that he was still with her, that his spirit wasn’t lost in time but instead remained a part of her, like a thread woven into the fabric of her life.

Her heart twisted as she remembered the days they had spent together, the simple, happy moments that now seemed both distant and near, like memories of a dream she couldn’t fully recall. She missed him with every fiber of her being. Her hand, still trembling, came up to her lips, brushing over them before pressing a soft kiss to her fingers. With that gentle touch, she carried the kiss across the space between her and the gravestone, placing her hand gently on the cool, smooth surface of the marble just above Trey’s smiling face. The gesture felt both strange and comforting, as if she were reaching out to him across time and space, trying to touch a piece of him that remained here, in this place.

“Please,” she whispered, the words coming barely above a murmur, but to her they felt as significant as a prayer. “Give me a sign that you're still here with me. I need to know you're still with me, in some way.” The stillness stretched, filled only by the distant hum of nature and the soft breeze that whispered through the trees. For a moment, it felt as if nothing would come. And she was okay with that. She had asked the universe for a sign many times before, each time hoping for something, anything to help her feel connected to him again. But maybe there was no sign to be given. Maybe it was just about holding onto the love and memories, trusting that they were enough.

She closed her eyes for a moment, her chest tight, as if the simple act of hoping might shatter the delicate peace she had found. She felt, for just an instant, that familiar ache, the kind that always came when she thought of Trey. It wasn’t just the pain of missing him—it was the absence of his presence in her life, the silent space he had left behind. Then, as though the world was answering her, the wind shifted. A rustling of leaves stirred, soft at first, then louder, like nature itself was awakening to the moment. Her heart skipped as a flutter of movement caught her eye. She turned, and there, perched right on the marble stone above Trey’s picture, was a cardinal.

Its feathers were a striking red, a splash of color against the muted landscape of the cemetery. It sat there, still and unhurried, its beady black eyes fixed on Y/N. She held her breath, her heart racing, as she stared at the bird. It wasn’t just the beauty of the bird—it was the way it seemed to know her. It was as if it understood everything she was feeling, every unspoken word, every piece of her heart laid bare. The cardinal remained motionless, just watching her. Y/N’s breath caught in her throat, her mind struggling to comprehend the coincidence, or maybe it wasn’t a coincidence. Maybe, just maybe, this was the sign she had been hoping for. Her heart felt like it had been struck by lightning, a surge of emotion so intense that it almost made her dizzy.

She couldn’t stop the tear that slipped down her cheek. She wiped it away quickly, a soft laugh escaping her lips, one filled with wonder, disbelief, and joy. "Trey?" she whispered, barely above a breath. Her voice cracked, unsure if she was speaking to the cardinal or to the memory of him that still lived within her. "Is that you?" The cardinal tilted its head, its gaze unwavering, as if acknowledging her question. It stayed there, still and beautiful, as if it had all the time in the world to share this moment with her. And in that moment, Y/N felt a shift inside her—a sense of peace, of connection, that she hadn’t felt in so long. It was fleeting, but it was enough.

It was enough to remind her that Trey wasn’t truly gone. Not in the way she had feared. Maybe he wasn’t physically here, but somehow, in ways she couldn’t fully explain, he was still watching over her, still part of her life, still a part of her. Y/N smiled through the tears, the weight of everything lifting just a little bit. She stayed there for a few moments longer, watching the cardinal, letting the magic of the moment wash over her. When it finally fluttered its wings and took flight, soaring into the sky, Y/N felt the tightness in her chest loosen.

The bird disappeared into the horizon, but Y/N wasn’t sad. Instead, she felt something lighter, something that felt like hope. Like a fresh breath after a long, suffocating silence.

"I’ll always love you, Trey," she said, her voice stronger now, her resolve settling in her chest. She paused, taking a moment to gather herself. "Thank you. Thank you for being with me, even now." With one last lingering glance at the gravestone, she slowly stood, brushing the dirt from her hands. She packed up the picnic basket with a sense of calm she hadn’t expected, moving deliberately, the rhythm of her actions grounding her. The grief would always be there, woven into the fabric of her life, but now, so was a sense of peace—of understanding.

She took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the crisp, cool air of the cemetery. It felt like the air had shifted too, like a weight had been lifted from the world. She wasn’t sure where the next step would take her, but for the first time in a long while, she felt ready to move forward. Maybe not quickly, but slowly, with the knowledge that the past could coexist with the present, that love could remain even after loss. And for the first time in days, Y/N felt the stirrings of hope, like the cardinal’s flight had carried something with it—something she could hold on to, even in the darkest of times. And maybe, just maybe, that was all she needed.

The next day, Y/N woke up with a weight in her chest, a heaviness that settled over her as she slowly peeled her eyes open to the dim morning light. The events of the previous day—her quiet visit to Trey’s grave, the unexpected sign of the cardinal—still clung to her like a blanket she couldn’t shake off. It felt almost unreal, the way everything had unfolded. But today, she had to face something else, something just as emotionally charged. Today, she was going to visit Trey’s family—his parents, and his younger sister, Londyn.

As she sat at the kitchen table, nursing her coffee, Y/N’s fingers absentmindedly traced the rim of the mug. The heat from the cup seeped into her hands, but it did little to ease the cold knot tightening in her stomach. Her thoughts circled in a quiet storm. What would they think of me now? she wondered. Would they see the change in me, the shift I feel deep in my heart? It wasn’t that she wanted to forget Trey, or replace him—nothing would ever do that. But there was something about Joe that had slowly worked its way into her life, into her heart. She hadn’t expected it, couldn’t have predicted it, but the connection was undeniable. Joe had become a constant in her thoughts, a presence she hadn’t been able to ignore. And yet, the idea of telling Trey’s family about him—letting them know she was letting her heart belong to someone else—was like trying to speak a language she wasn’t sure they’d understand.

Her mind flickered to the first time she had met Joe, to the way their chemistry had been instant, a spark she couldn’t explain. Even though it felt right, she couldn’t shake the fear of what it might mean for her relationship with Trey’s family. She had been so intertwined with them, and Trey’s memory was so deeply embedded in the fabric of their lives. How would they take it? How would they feel knowing that, slowly but surely, she was finding a new place in her heart for someone else?

A deep sigh escaped her lips as she set the mug down. She had been avoiding the question, the rawness of it, but today it would have to be faced. She wasn’t sure if she was ready, but she had to try. She owed it to herself, to Trey, and to his family.

The drive to their house felt like it took forever, every mile stretching on for what felt like hours, each passing street deepening the well of anxiety in her stomach. The familiar neighborhood was the same as it had always been, yet, to Y/N, it now felt different, like an old song played on a broken record, a reminder of what was lost and what could never be again. She drove past houses where children played in their front yards, their laughter ringing in the air, and it made her heart ache for a future she would never have with Trey. The streets had always felt so full of life when Trey had been there, his exuberance, his voice, his laughter filling the spaces. But now, those same streets felt eerily quiet, a silence that echoed all the memories she had built with him and the ones they would never get to share.

As she approached the house, her breath caught in her throat. The familiar sight of the porch with its rows of potted plants, the ones Trey’s mom, Carla, had always tended to with such care, was still there. The swing, that old wooden thing that creaked with every movement, still hung from the sturdy oak tree in the front yard. The sight of it all should have been comforting, nostalgic even, but instead, it felt like a reminder of everything she had lost. The house, warm and inviting as it was, seemed to magnify the absence of Trey. The void was so palpable, so real, that it almost made her want to turn back.

Her heart felt heavy in her chest, her hands shaking as she gripped the steering wheel. She sat there for a moment, staring at the house. A thousand memories danced in her mind—the way Trey’s laugh had filled this space, the smell of his mother’s cooking, the sound of Londyn’s voice echoing through the halls. It was all still there, but so much of it was tainted by the fact that Trey was no longer here. She took a deep breath, steadying herself, before reaching for the door handle. She couldn’t avoid this forever. She couldn’t let her fear and guilt keep her from being there for them, for showing up and honoring the connection she had with them all. They had been her family, too, and she owed it to them to be honest. To show up, no matter how much it made her heart ache.

Her feet moved almost automatically as she walked up the familiar front steps, each one creaking under her weight. She could almost hear Trey’s voice, teasing her about how she always took the steps too fast. It almost made her smile, but the ache that followed was too strong. When she reached the door, she hesitated for just a moment, gathering her thoughts. A deep breath escaped her, and she rang the doorbell.

The sound echoed in the quiet air, and she waited. For a long second, everything seemed to stand still. Then, the door creaked open, and Londyn’s face appeared, her smile lighting up as she saw Y/N standing there. “Y/N!” Londyn exclaimed, stepping forward to wrap her in a tight hug. “You actually came! I’m so happy to see you.” Y/N squeezed her back, holding on a little longer than usual. Londyn’s embrace was a comfort, a small anchor in the sea of emotions that had been swirling in her chest. It felt familiar, like a piece of home she hadn’t realized she was missing. As they pulled away, Y/N noticed the slight hesitation in Londyn’s eyes, the soft sadness that lingered there. “I’m so glad to see you too, Londyn,” Y/N said, her voice a little unsteady. Londyn gave her a small, almost nervous smile. “Mom and Dad are inside. They’ve been asking about you. We’ve all missed you.” Y/N nodded, feeling her throat tighten. “I’ve missed you guys too.”

Stepping inside the house was like stepping into a memory. The scent of home—of dinner cooking in the kitchen, the faint hum of the TV from the living room—welcomed her in, but it all felt slightly off. The absence of Trey seemed louder here, and she couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling in her gut. What if they noticed the changes in her? What if they could see that she wasn’t quite the same? Carla, Trey’s mom, appeared from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron. Her warm, welcoming smile softened when she saw Y/N standing there.

“Y/N, darling,” Carla said, her voice full of affection as she pulled Y/N into a hug. “I’m so happy you came by. It’s been too long.” Y/N smiled weakly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve missed you.” Carla held her at arm’s length, studying her face, and Y/N could see the concern in her eyes. “How are you really, sweetheart?” she asked gently, her tone full of love and care.  Y/N blinked back the sudden tears threatening to spill over. “I’m doing okay,” she whispered. “I’m just… still figuring things out.” Marcus, Trey’s dad, appeared from the hallway, and his warm smile was a comfort. He stepped forward and wrapped Y/N in a hug as well. “Good to see you, kiddo,” he said, his voice deep and reassuring. “It’s always a pleasure to have you here.”

As they moved into the living room, the weight of unspoken words hung in the air. Y/N could feel it—the subtle tension, the sense of waiting. They wanted her to open up, to share what had been happening in her life, and part of her wanted to do that. But another part of her hesitated, unsure of how to even begin. As they settled into the familiar living room, the comfort of the space wrapped around Y/N like a warm embrace. The couch, worn from years of use, seemed to settle into its own little niche in the world—much like Y/N herself had tried to do since losing Trey. The air carried the comforting scent of stew bubbling away on the stove, the rich aroma of home-cooked love filling the room. Y/N felt the tug of nostalgia, that bittersweet ache of remembering happier times. The laughter. The conversations. The life they had all shared before the world had changed.

But this was now, and the weight of the unspoken words between them felt heavy, suspended in the air. She could feel it—a quiet expectation. They were waiting for her to share something, something they all knew was coming but had never dared ask. It wasn’t a question that needed words; it was in the way they looked at her, the way they were waiting for her to speak the truth she hadn’t quite been able to say out loud. They started with small talk, the kind that filled the awkward silences before anything more important could be addressed. Y/N told them about her new life in Cincinnati, the new job with the Bengals, the excitement she’d found in the city. She spoke about her teammates, the community, and the little joys she’d discovered in the midst of all the chaos that came with change. The words came easier than she expected, flowing out like a balm to soothe the raw edges of her grief. For a moment, it almost felt like things were normal again.

“The team’s been amazing,” Y/N said, leaning back slightly on the couch as she tucked her legs underneath her. She could feel the warmth of the room soaking into her skin, making her feel grounded. “And the fans are incredible. It’s so different from New Orleans, but in a good way. I didn’t know how much I’d enjoy the change.” Carla and Marcus exchanged a glance, their faces warm with pride and understanding. They were happy for her, Y/N could see that. But behind their smiles, she could sense the questions, the lingering curiosity about what was going on in her heart. They knew she had been through so much, and now they could see her emerging from the fog, moving forward in ways they hadn’t expected—but hadn’t quite dared to ask about.

“Bet you never thought you’d be wearing those Bengals colors, huh?” Marcus teased with a grin, nudging her gently with his elbow. “I can’t picture you trading in the Saints for them forever.” Y/N laughed softly, her heart momentarily lightened by his playful banter. She had spent so many years surrounded by the black and gold of the Saints, it was strange—almost foreign—to be wearing orange and black. But there was something about the change that had awakened a new side of her, something she wasn’t quite ready to label yet, but it felt good.

“Don’t worry,” she said with a grin. “I’m not switching allegiances permanently. But it’s nice to be a part of something new. It’s just… fresh, you know?” Marcus nodded approvingly. “Change is good for the soul, even if it takes a little getting used to.” Carla watched the exchange with a quiet smile, but then her gaze softened as she turned to Y/N. There was something in her eyes—something tender, almost knowing—that made Y/N’s heart skip a beat. It was like Carla had been holding her breath, waiting for the right moment to ask the question they all knew was coming.

“So…” Carla began, her voice calm but tinged with a motherly softness, “Is there anyone special in your life back in Cincinnati?” The question hung in the air, and Y/N’s heart stuttered in her chest. It wasn’t that she hadn’t expected it—it was just that she hadn’t expected it yet. Her pulse quickened, and the words that had been so difficult to say seemed even harder now that they were finally on the table. The room felt small, and in a way, she felt like she was standing on the edge of something terrifying and beautiful all at once.

She swallowed hard, her thoughts spiraling. What do I say? How could she explain to them that, despite everything—despite the love she’d shared with Trey, the loss, the grief—her heart had started to find a path toward someone else? She wasn’t replacing Trey; she would never replace him. But after so much pain, she was starting to feel the stirrings of something new, something unexpected. Carla’s gaze didn’t waver. Her eyes, full of quiet understanding, made Y/N feel like she didn’t have to hide anything. It was as though Carla had known the answer before she asked the question. She had seen it in the way Y/N carried herself, in the subtle changes, in the way she spoke about her life in Cincinnati. It was a mother’s intuition, a quiet knowing that came from a place of deep love.

Y/N glanced around at Londyn, whose expression was wide-eyed with curiosity, and then back to Marcus, who was watching her with an understanding that made her heart ache. There was no judgment here, only concern and love. But the weight of the truth was suffocating. “I…” Y/N started, her voice faltering slightly. The words felt foreign on her tongue, heavy with guilt. She had never imagined herself feeling this way, not when she was so in love with Trey, not when she thought she could never love anyone else. “There’s someone,” she said finally, her voice quiet. “His name’s Joe. We’ve been spending time together, and… well, it’s more than just a friendship.” Her words hung in the room, a confession, a shift. She couldn’t stop the blush that crept up her neck, or the nervous flutter in her stomach. Saying it out loud made it real in a way it had never felt before.

Carla’s expression softened. She leaned forward, her face full of understanding and something else—something that almost looked like relief. “Joe,” she repeated softly, savoring the name, letting it sit between them for a moment. “He sounds like a good man.” Y/N nodded, the lump in her throat thickening. “He is. He’s… been there for me in ways I didn’t expect. And I didn’t think I could feel this way about someone else, but it’s happening. I can’t ignore it anymore.”

Londyn leaned in, her face lighting up with excitement. “I knew it! You’ve been different lately, Y/N. There’s this spark in your eyes. Someone’s making you smile more than usual.” Y/N laughed, her heart lifting at Londyn’s infectious energy. “I guess you could say that,” she said, her smile growing. “He’s… cute. But I think you’d have to meet him to really know.” Marcus chuckled softly, his tone warm and understanding. “I think it’s great,” he said. “You deserve to be happy, Y/N. We all do. Trey would want that for you, too.”

Carla reached over, her hand gently squeezing Y/N’s, grounding her. “Trey would want you to be happy, sweetheart. He would want you to live, to love, even after everything. He loved you so much, and I know he would want you to keep moving forward. And if he can’t be here to love you himself…” Carla’s voice broke for a second, but she quickly regained her composure. “Then maybe Joe is here to do that for him. To love you, for both of them.” The weight of Carla’s words settled in Y/N’s chest like a soft, healing balm. She blinked back tears, feeling a wave of relief crash over her. She had feared their judgment, their disappointment—but there was none of that. Just understanding. Just love.

“I—” Y/N’s voice trembled, thick with emotion. “I feel so guilty. I feel like I’m betraying Trey by moving on, by letting someone else into my heart. But I didn’t expect it. I don’t know how to… be okay with it.” Marcus opened his arms then, and without a second thought, Y/N stepped into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his fatherly affection surround her. “You’re not betraying him, Y/N,” he said softly, his voice rough with emotion. “Trey would want you to be happy. You’ve carried his love for so long, and now it’s time for you to carry your own happiness too. Don’t feel guilty. He would want that for you.”

Londyn reached over and gave her a gentle hug as well, her voice light but sincere. “We’re proud of you, Y/N. We know this isn’t easy, but we’re here for you, no matter what.” Carla’s gaze softened as she watched Y/N, her eyes filled with a depth of understanding that only years of experience could bring. She reached across the space between them, her hand warm and steady as it gently enveloped Y/N's. The quiet of the room seemed to deepen, every tick of the clock more pronounced as the scent of stew simmering in the kitchen lingered in the background. Time slowed, and for a fleeting moment, the world outside seemed distant. The only thing that mattered was this small, intimate moment they were sharing.

"You know, sweetheart," Carla’s voice was low and calm, but there was an underlying strength in it—a quiet resilience that anchored Y/N. "I believe that Trey sent Joe to you." Y/N blinked, the words catching her off guard, her pulse quickening as they settled over her like a heavy weight. She stared at Carla, her heart lodged somewhere between her chest and throat, unsure whether she'd heard correctly. The room held its breath, as though the walls themselves waited for Y/N’s reaction. The silence stretched, thick with meaning, until Carla continued, her voice unwavering but filled with a tenderness that seemed to reach straight into Y/N’s soul.

"If Trey can’t be here to love you in person, then maybe Joe is the way he can still do that for you—from where he is." Carla's voice softened, yet it held an undeniable warmth that made Y/N’s heart ache in a way she hadn’t expected. "I truly believe that. I know Trey would want you to be happy. And I think Joe is someone that Trey would want you to have by your side. He’s a good man, Y/N. You deserve someone who can love you, who can walk through life with you—just like Trey would have, if he could."

A rush of emotions cascaded through Y/N—relief, guilt, gratitude—and with them, the weight she had been carrying for so long. Tears welled in her eyes, but she fought them back. The lump in her throat was almost unbearable as Carla’s words sank in, each syllable wrapping around her heart like a warm embrace. She had been afraid to move forward, convinced that any love she might find again would somehow erase Trey’s memory, that it would be a betrayal of everything they had shared. But now, sitting in this room with Trey’s family, she felt as though something inside her—something heavy—had been lifted, leaving space for a new kind of understanding. Carla’s hand remained on hers, her touch grounding her, and she continued, her voice steady yet compassionate. “I know this isn’t easy. I know you’ll always carry Trey with you. But it’s okay to love again, Y/N. And if Joe is the person who’s going to help you heal, then I believe Trey sent him to you. You deserve love. You deserve happiness.”

The words reverberated through Y/N, settling deep in her bones. Her chest tightened, but not with the same sharp grief she had become so accustomed to. Instead, it was a kind of bittersweet relief—a profound mixture of sorrow for what was lost and gratitude for what was possible. The understanding in the room, the love, felt like a balm to wounds she hadn’t even realized were still open. Londyn, who had been sitting quietly in the background, her eyes wide and filled with emotion, finally spoke up, her voice gentle but imbued with a quiet strength. “I don’t think anyone could ever replace Trey,” she said softly, her words soothing. “But I do think he’d want you to have someone who makes you smile the way he did.”

The weight of Londyn’s words wrapped around Y/N like a comforting blanket, and for the first time since arriving, she felt her heart unburdened. Londyn was right—no one would ever replace Trey. But the idea that she could still move forward, that she could feel the possibility of a future with someone else, was something she hadn’t allowed herself to fully grasp until now. Maybe it wasn’t about replacing Trey at all. Maybe it was about making room in her heart, learning to hold both the love for the past and the promise of the future. Marcus, who had been listening intently, his quiet presence a steadying force throughout the conversation, spoke next. His voice was deep and filled with a tenderness that surprised Y/N, given his typically stoic nature. “We’re not upset with you, Y/N,” he said slowly, the sincerity in his words cutting through the silence. “We just want you to be happy. We want to see you living your life, feeling joy again. Trey would want that for you. He would want you to feel free to move forward and find happiness, even if it’s hard. You deserve that.”

Y/N felt her chest tighten again, but this time, it was different. It wasn’t the weight of grief, but something else—something softer, something almost like peace. Hope. She could feel it stirring within her, something she hadn’t allowed herself to acknowledge in a long time. Hope that maybe, just maybe, she could let herself love again. “I… I didn’t know if you would understand,” Y/N whispered, her voice thick with emotion, the words trembling on her lips. “I didn’t want to hurt you by moving on. I still love Trey, and I always will. But I think, maybe, I’m ready to let someone else in. I didn’t expect it. But I don’t want to carry this guilt anymore.”

Carla leaned forward, her eyes filled with the kind of reassurance only a mother could offer. “You don’t need to feel guilty, Y/N. Not with us. Not with Trey. We understand. And we want you to be happy.” Londyn’s usual playful spark flickered back to life, a soft smile curving her lips as she leaned forward, her eyes mischievous. “We all want you to be happy. And hey, if Joe is the guy that does it, then I think that’s pretty perfect. Trey would have wanted that for you, too.”

Y/N couldn’t help but chuckle through the tears that still lingered on her cheeks. The laughter felt like an unexpected release, a reminder of the joy she had been afraid to embrace. “Thank you. All of you. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Marcus’s smile was steady, a quiet reflection of the fatherly love he had always shown Y/N. “You’ve got us, Y/N. Always. And now, you've got Joe, too. It’s okay to let him in. Just know you’re never alone, no matter what happens. We're with you. Every step of the way.”

Y/N nodded, her heart swelling with gratitude, the emotions threatening to overwhelm her. For the first time in what felt like ages, she didn’t feel like she was carrying the weight of her grief alone. Trey’s family, despite the pain they all carried, were here, supporting her, loving her, allowing her the space to heal. And in this moment, surrounded by their unwavering support, she realized that the past didn’t have to be an anchor. It could be a compass, guiding her forward.

As the evening continued, the conversation drifted to lighter topics, laughter filling the room once again. Y/N could feel the warmth of their presence, the steady rhythm of their voices, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the ache in her chest softened, just a little. It wasn’t about forgetting Trey, or pretending that the love they shared didn’t matter. It was about learning how to live with that love, letting it be a part of her while still making space for the possibility of new love. With Joe by her side, she could see the path ahead—a future where love didn’t have to be a choice between the past and the present. And for the first time in a long time, Y/N felt the flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, everything was going to be okay.

♪♫•*¨*•.¸¸❤¸¸.•*¨*•♫♪

​​Joe sat on the edge of his bed, his fingers drumming absentmindedly against the soft surface of the duvet, the rhythmic sound almost mocking in the quiet of the room. He had been trying to distract himself, to push past the gnawing ache that had settled deep in his chest, but it was futile. The house felt emptier without Y/N in it, and no matter how much he tried to fill his time, the emptiness remained. It hadn’t been long since they had last spoken, but it felt like an eternity. He kept replaying the conversations, the looks they’d shared, the moments that had felt so full of promise. But now, all he could do was wait. Wait for her to make sense of whatever was pulling her in two different directions. Wait for her to feel like she was ready, like she could finally step forward with him, leaving the past behind.

He hadn’t realized how much this—waiting, wanting, hoping—would tear at him. When he first met Y/N, everything about her had felt like a spark, something that lit up a corner of his life he hadn’t even known was dark. She had a way of filling the spaces, of breathing color into places he had forgotten existed. It was all so easy, so natural. He had never imagined that the hardest part would be letting her go, even just for a moment, so she could figure herself out.

But that was where they were now. Joe ran a hand through his hair, feeling the familiar weight of uncertainty in his chest. He hadn’t expected this—hadn’t expected to feel so… lost. It wasn’t about the love he had for her. That was easy, constant, and something he would never question. No, it was the waiting, the wondering, the painful silence that seemed to stretch between them like an endless road.

He looked at his phone again, hoping for a message, hoping for a sign. But there was nothing. Nothing except the creeping thought that maybe she needed more time. And how much more time was that? How long would he be expected to stand at the edge of something beautiful, waiting for her to be ready to take his hand? Everything seemed dull without her. The vibrant energy of his life, once filled with the excitement of their late-night talks and teasing, had faded. The colors in his world no longer had the same intensity. It was as though someone had dimmed the lights, and he was left squinting at the shadows, searching for something to grab onto.

Joe closed his eyes, trying to clear his mind, but all he could see was her smile—the way her eyes lit up when she talked about something she loved, the way she’d lean into him, as though their connection was magnetic. He missed the way she made him feel, how she made everything seem possible, just by being herself. Was it too much to ask that she let him in? Let him be the person who could help her heal, who could stand beside her and be a part of her future? But that wasn’t for him to decide. He had to be patient, he knew that. He had to let her take the time she needed, even if it meant walking through the quiet days alone.

But the waiting was wearing on him. It wasn’t just the longing—it was the fear. Fear that maybe she wasn’t coming back, fear that she wasn’t ready for the kind of love he had to offer, or that the past was still too strong a pull. What if she could never be ready? What if she never looked at him and saw the possibility of a future? What if he was just a placeholder, something that would fade when she was ready to move on?

Joe sighed, standing up and walking to the window, looking out at the city skyline. The lights were twinkling, but they felt so far away, like they were a part of a world that didn’t belong to him anymore. He wanted to reach out, to pull Y/N into his arms and let her know that he would be there—always. But all he could do was wait.

He leaned his forehead against the cool glass, the weight of his own breath fogging up the window for a moment. “How much longer?” he whispered to the night, as though the universe had an answer for him. But it didn’t. All he had was the slow ticking of the clock, the passage of time that seemed to crawl by. It felt like his life had stopped, like everything was on hold until she was ready to step back into it. And he wasn’t sure how long he could keep waiting, how long he could keep pretending that the world still held the same brightness without her by his side.

He didn’t want to rush her. He couldn’t. But God, the silence was suffocating. The uncertainty was unbearable. How much time did she need? And how much time did he have before he lost his own light, too?

♪♫•*¨*•.¸¸❤¸¸.•*¨*•♫♪

Y/N sat on the edge of the bed, the soft hum of her grandparents' house filling the air like a quiet lullaby. She had found solace in the familiarity of it all—the old wooden floors that creaked underfoot, the scent of freshly brewed coffee wafting through the house, and the comfort of being surrounded by the love her grandparents had shared for decades. But today, none of that seemed to soften the heavy weight that pressed on her chest.

Her fingers moved in mechanical motions as she folded clothes into her suitcase, each fold more deliberate than the last. It was as if the act of packing could somehow organize her thoughts, could help her make sense of the whirlwind inside her heart. She had spent the last few days lost in her own head, replaying moments with Trey and Joe, wondering how to move forward, and if she was even allowed to. The grief for Trey was still there, raw and present, but as she sat in the quiet of this room, something inside her shifted. She couldn’t deny the truth anymore. She was ready. Ready to stop letting the past hold her prisoner. Ready to take a step toward the future, even if it was uncertain. Ready to let Joe in.

What surprised her the most, though, was how much she had missed him. The ache in her chest had settled in slowly, a subtle longing that she hadn’t realized was there until now. The thought of him, his laughter, his warmth, his unspoken understanding of her—it consumed her when she let it. And now, as she packed, she felt it more acutely than ever. She had been so afraid to let herself feel something for him, to risk opening her heart again. But the truth was, the more she tried to push it away, the more she realized that Joe had become a part of her life in a way she couldn’t ignore. She hadn’t realized how much of her world had dimmed without him in it. The colors of the day seemed duller. The mornings felt emptier. She missed him in ways she wasn’t sure how to articulate. But now, sitting here in the quiet of her grandparents’ house, she could feel the shift inside her. She couldn’t keep living in the shadow of the past. If Joe was a part of her future, then she wasn’t going to keep holding herself back. It was time to stop overthinking. Time to stop hiding behind fear. She was going to open the door to the future and see what it held—whether it led to more pain or more joy, she was going to let herself find out.

Just as she zipped her suitcase shut, she heard a soft knock on the door. The sound was so gentle, almost tentative, that for a moment, she thought it was just her mind playing tricks. But then it came again—a single tap, barely audible. A second knock followed, and this time, she looked up to see her grandfather standing in the doorway. His familiar figure, framed by the soft light from the hallway, brought an unexpected sense of comfort.

“Hey, Papa,” she greeted, offering him a small smile. The knot in her throat tightened, but she tried to swallow it down. Her grandfather had always been a rock in her life—calm, wise, and patient. She never had to explain herself to him. He simply knew. He returned her smile with that quiet warmth that always made her feel safe. “Mind if I come in?”

“Of course, Papa,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. He stepped inside, and with the soft shuffle of his shoes against the wooden floor, he made his way to the bed, sitting down beside her. The scent of his cologne—something earthy, like leather and tobacco—mingled with the faint scent of the old wood that had seen a hundred years of family stories. For a moment, Y/N let the stillness wash over her. Her grandfather’s presence, so constant, so unwavering, gave her a small sense of peace.

“You know,” he began, his voice gruff but filled with affection, “I was in your same spot when I met your grandmother.” Y/N’s heart stilled, and she looked up at him, curiosity flickering in her gaze. She had heard bits and pieces of their love story over the years—how they’d met young, how they had weathered life’s storms together—but she had never really asked about the beginning. How did they get through it? How did they overcome their doubts?

Her grandfather’s expression softened, a hint of something distant in his eyes as if he were remembering a time long past. He leaned back slightly, hands resting on his knees. “I was terrified,” he continued, his voice quieter now, as though the memory of that fear still lingered within him. “I had been hurt before. I was scared to fall that deep again. Scared to let someone in, to risk losing myself. The idea of giving someone that much power over my heart… it felt like an ocean I wasn’t sure I could swim in.” Y/N’s heart clenched. She recognized the fear in his words. It mirrored the fears she had kept buried deep inside herself—the fear of losing herself again, of loving someone so deeply that it would hurt in ways she couldn’t anticipate. It was a fear she hadn’t known how to name until now. The fear of letting go.

“But you guys are so perfect, Papa,” she murmured, her voice filled with a softness that made the words feel almost fragile. She had always seen her grandparents as the epitome of love—steadfast, unshakable, and full of warmth. They had always seemed like they were meant to be together, that their love was flawless. The idea that it hadn’t always been that way felt almost impossible to imagine. Her grandfather smiled gently, a small chuckle escaping his lips. “Perfect?” He shook his head, the edges of his mouth turning down slightly, a look of quiet amusement in his eyes. “No, sweetheart. Love is never perfect. If it were perfect, it wouldn’t be real. It wouldn’t be worth it.” He turned to face her fully, his gaze unwavering. “Your grandmother and I… what we have, it’s not about perfection. It’s about choosing each other. Every day. Even when things aren’t easy. Even when the future is uncertain. Love takes patience, trust, and above all, courage.”

Y/N felt her throat tighten, her breath catching on the weight of his words. A lump formed in her chest, threatening to rise up into her throat. The tears she had been holding back for days began to well up, but she fought them off, blinking rapidly to keep them at bay.

Her grandfather’s hand, weathered and strong, reached out and gently squeezed hers. “I can see it in your eyes, Y/N,” he said, his voice softening, filled with understanding. “I see the way you look at Joe. You haven’t had that sparkle in your eyes since Trey. I know it’s hard to think about moving forward. It feels like a betrayal, I imagine. But don’t let fear stop you. Don’t let him slip away because you’re too scared. Being scared is human. It’s what makes us brave. Jump into that deep end, Y/N. Let love sweep you up. Let it fill you up the way it’s supposed to.” Her heart surged, a wave of emotion crashing over her. His words felt like a balm to the wound she had carried for so long, a reminder that it was okay to be vulnerable. It was okay to feel something again, to let herself experience the joy and uncertainty that love could bring. The grief would always be there, but it didn’t have to stop her from moving forward. It didn’t have to stop her from living.

Y/N blinked away the tears that threatened to spill over, her voice thick with emotion. “Thank you, Papa,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I think I’m ready. I’m ready to take that leap. I’m ready to love again.” Her grandfather smiled, his eyes glistening with something she couldn’t quite name. He gently wiped away a tear that had escaped down her cheek, his touch tender. “Good. That’s my girl. Just remember—love is never easy. But it’s always worth it.”

And in that moment, as her grandfather’s words echoed in her heart, Y/N knew. She was ready. Ready to dive in. Ready to take that leap into the deep end with Joe. Ready to let herself love again. The fear that had kept her stuck was no longer her master. She was no longer running from what her heart needed. She was going to let love in, no matter how imperfect, no matter how messy. It was time to start living again. And this time, she wouldn’t be doing it alone.

The airport terminal was bustling with life, but to Y/N, everything felt distant—like she was in a bubble, separated from the world around her. The weight of the past week was still fresh on her shoulders, but there was a new lightness that she hadn’t felt in a long time. Standing there, surrounded by both her family and Trey’s, she couldn’t help but feel a profound sense of gratitude for everything they had given her. The support, the love, and most of all, the permission to move forward.

Trey’s parents, Carla and Marcus, stood close by, their faces a mixture of pride and love. Londyn, her ever-energetic self, gave her a tight hug, her voice trembling with emotion as she whispered, “You’ve got this, Y/N. We all know you do.” Y/N nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. She wanted to speak, to thank them for everything they’d done, but the words felt stuck, tangled in the overwhelming emotions that surged within her. She simply squeezed Londyn back, hoping that her embrace would convey everything she couldn’t say.

Her grandparents stood on the other side, their faces etched with quiet wisdom. Papa gave her a reassuring pat on the back as he spoke, his voice steady. “You take care of yourself, Y/N. You’ve got a whole family behind you.” His words grounded her, and for the first time in a long while, she truly felt like she wasn’t alone.

But it was the final moments, the last goodbyes, that would stay with her. Trey’s mother, Carla, pulled her into a warm embrace, holding her tightly, as if she could hold her together, just a little longer. “We love you, Y/N,” Carla whispered, her voice choked with emotion. “Don’t forget that. You don’t ever have to forget him.” “I won’t,” Y/N whispered back, fighting to keep her voice steady. “I won’t forget him. I’ll always carry him with me.”

As the last of the goodbyes were said, the weight of the farewell hung in the air, but there was something different now. The guilt that had gnawed at her for so long—the feeling that moving forward with Joe would somehow be a betrayal to Trey—was gone. It had lifted, as though with each goodbye, she had shed the last of the burden that had held her back. Y/N turned to face the gate, the terminal around her now a blur. The sadness was still there, but it was different. It wasn’t crushing her anymore. And as she walked toward the security line, she felt lighter—like a weight had been lifted from her chest. She felt like she was finally free to step into a new chapter of her life, without carrying the past with her at every turn.

The familiar streets of Cincinnati greeted Y/N as she stepped off the plane, a quiet warmth spreading through her chest. The city that had once felt so heavy with memories now seemed more like a place of possibilities. She was back in her apartment, back in the rhythm of her life—but it wasn’t the same. She wasn’t the same.

The taxi ride from the airport to her apartment felt almost surreal, the sounds of the city buzzing in the background, but Y/N’s thoughts were entirely consumed by what she was about to do. She hadn’t checked her phone once during the entire trip—she needed time to process everything, to breathe and reflect. But now, as she approached her front door, her pulse quickened. She had made a decision, one that felt right deep in her bones.

She was ready. Ready to step forward. Ready to take the next step with Joe. But first, she needed space. She needed to take a breath.

She stepped into the quiet of her apartment, the familiar scent of the place wrapping around her like an old friend. The soft hum of the refrigerator and the distant noise from outside were comforting, grounding. She dropped her bags by the door, a sense of finality settling over her. There would be no more hesitation, no more second-guessing. But she wasn’t going to check her phone right away. Not yet. Y/N moved slowly, methodically, unpacking her things, placing them where they belonged. Each movement, each action, felt like she was reaffirming something important inside herself. She was putting her past to rest, closing that chapter, and opening herself up to the future.

Her fingers lingered on a photo of her and Trey that sat on her nightstand. She smiled softly, brushing her thumb over the image, allowing herself to remember the love, the joy, and the way he had made her feel.

But then, as the smile faded, she knew it was time. She was no longer living in the shadows of what had been. She sat down at the kitchen counter, her phone in her hands, her heart thumping in her chest. She took a deep breath, steadying herself. This moment, this small action, was a step toward everything she had been so afraid of.

It wasn’t that she hadn’t wanted Joe. It was that she hadn’t been sure if she could love him, if she could let him in without feeling like she was betraying the past. But the past—Trey, the love they’d shared—would always be a part of her. That would never change. But now, she had to make room for something new.

–

The hum of her car’s engine was louder than it had ever been before as Y/N gripped the wheel with both hands, her knuckles white. Her pulse was frantic, echoing in her ears as she drove down the quiet streets of Cincinnati. The city had always felt like home, but tonight, with every turn and stoplight, it felt foreign, like she was crossing a threshold—one she couldn’t go back from.

She had spent hours sitting with her emotions, untangling the knots of fear and longing that had held her back for so long. She had thought about Joe—about how it had felt to be near him, how every second without him had felt like she was losing a piece of herself. In the quiet of her thoughts, she realized how deeply she missed him—how every moment without him left an ache in her chest that no one else could fill.

And now, here she was, driving towards him, towards the possibility of a future she’d been too scared to face. With every mile, the sense of certainty inside her grew. The weight that had kept her in the shadows for so long was lifting, leaving only the raw, undeniable truth of what she wanted. She was tired of fighting it. She was tired of hiding from herself. She was ready to step forward and embrace what her heart had known all along. Finally, she turned onto his street, the familiar sight of his house bringing a rush of both relief and nervous energy. His Porsche was parked in the driveway, exactly where she had hoped it would be. He was home. She was here. No more running. No more second-guessing.

Her car pulled into the driveway, her hands trembling as she turned off the engine. The silence around her was deafening, every sound amplified—the soft rustle of leaves in the cool evening air, the distant hum of the city, her own breath quickening as she sat in the car, heart pounding. The car door felt heavier than usual as she opened it, stepping out into the night, her feet moving faster than she had intended as she made her way up the driveway.

As she reached his front door, the weight of her emotions seemed to lift with every step. Her pulse was thundering in her ears, each knock on the door a beat closer to what she had been avoiding for so long. She raised her hand, her knuckles brushing against the door, the sound of the knock echoing in the stillness of the night.

The door creaked open, and there he was.

Joe.

His hair was wild, sticking up in every direction like he had just woken from a deep sleep. His eyes were heavy with the remnants of slumber, his expression a mixture of confusion and something else—something softer that made her heart race. He looked at her, a slow recognition dawning across his face, and for a brief moment, she thought he might ask her what she was doing here, why now, why after all this time.

“Y/N?” he asked, his voice hoarse with sleep, his eyes widening in disbelief. “What are you—?”

Before he could finish the sentence, Y/N didn’t give herself a chance to overthink. She didn’t want to. She didn’t want to let her fear hold her back. She stepped forward, her fingers trembling as she cupped his jaw, pulling him down toward her, and kissed him. It was an explosion of raw, desperate emotion—everything she had kept bottled up for months. The kiss was hungry, urgent, as if they were both trying to fill a void that had been growing between them for far too long. She felt the heat of him, the way his body leaned into hers, the way his lips moved with a tenderness that made her knees weak. Everything about this felt right, but it was overwhelming—the surge of love, of longing, of everything they had kept buried.

For a long moment, they simply stood there, lost in the kiss. There was no need for words, no space for doubt—just the feeling of being in each other’s arms again. When they finally pulled apart, breathless, their foreheads rested against each other, their hearts still racing in sync. Y/N looked up at him, her brown eyes soft and full of something vulnerable, something raw, and whispered, “Hi.”

It was the only word she could manage, but it felt like the most honest greeting she could give him after all this time. Joe blinked a few times, as if trying to ground himself in reality, his fingers still lightly holding her waist, as though afraid she might disappear if he let go. His gaze searched hers, something heavy and beautiful in his eyes. He reached up, brushing a stray lock of braid behind her ear, his touch gentle. “Hi,” he whispered back, his voice thick with emotion, as if he couldn’t quite believe she was really there, standing in front of him.

“What are you doing here?” His voice cracked slightly, betraying the mix of emotions he was feeling. “I—I didn’t think…” Y/N’s heart squeezed at the rawness in his voice, the vulnerability she had never expected from him. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice small but steady. “I just—I needed to be sure. I was scared.”

Joe’s eyes softened, and he stepped back slightly, pulling her inside the door with him. The house was dimly lit, and for a moment, everything felt surreal—the warmth of his skin, the smell of his cologne, the familiarity of him. “Scared of what?” he asked, his voice low and gentle. He cupped her face in his hands, his thumb tracing the curve of her cheek. “You don’t have to be scared of me. I’ve been waiting for you to be ready. I’ve been waiting for this—for you.”

His words hit her like a wave, sweeping away the last of her hesitation. She felt the weight in her chest lift, the ache that had been there for so long finally fading. “I know,” she whispered. “And I’m here now. I’m not running anymore. I’m ready. For you. For us.”

Joe’s lips parted, as if he was about to say something, but instead, he pulled her back to him, kissing her with a tenderness that almost undid her. It was slow this time, soft, but no less intense. His lips moved against hers like he was savoring every second of it, and she melted into him, her hands threading through his hair, pulling him closer as if she couldn’t get enough of him. When they pulled apart again, they were both breathing heavily, their foreheads resting together, their bodies pressed close. “I don’t know what the future holds,” Joe murmured, his voice rough with emotion, “but I know that I want you in it. I’ve never wanted anything more.”

Y/N felt the tears spring to her eyes, her chest swelling with a mixture of relief and happiness. She placed her hand over his, still resting on her cheek, and whispered, “I want that too. I want you, Joe. I’m not going anywhere.” His eyes softened, his smile gentle and full of love as he kissed her again—this time, slower, more deliberate. A kiss that spoke of everything they had both been holding back, a promise of what was to come.

And as they stood there, lost in each other, neither of them needed to say anything more. They both knew this was just the beginning—the beginning they had both been waiting for, the beginning of something neither of them could deny any longer.

♪♫•*¨*•.¸¸❤¸¸.•*¨*•♫♪

Joe had always been one to fall asleep easily, especially on nights like this, when his mind refused to quiet down. Thoughts of Y/N, of everything that had happened, had kept him tossing and turning until the early hours. But tonight, he had finally found sleep, a rare moment of peace where his mind had silenced its endless running. That was, until a knock at the door pierced through the fog of sleep and sent his heart racing.

It was a late hour (to him at least)—11 p.m. or so—and while that wasn’t too late, it was enough to stir up confusion. His brain, still heavy with the remnants of sleep, struggled to catch up as he stumbled out of bed. His hair was wild, disheveled from a restless night, and his eyes felt weighed down by the dreamless sleep he had just been pulled from. His pulse quickened for reasons he couldn’t place, a sense of anticipation settling into his chest as he made his way to the door.

Who could it be at this hour? The moment he opened the door, his world seemed to stop.

There, standing on his doorstep, was Y/N. His heart leapt into his throat. She was here. It didn’t seem possible. He had spent so many nights thinking about her, wondering why she had left, wondering if she’d ever come back, but now, with her standing there, he felt like he was seeing a ghost, or maybe something more real than anything he had ever felt before. He wanted to speak, to ask why, to tell her how long he had waited for this moment, but when their eyes locked, everything else faded away. She stepped forward, her fingers trembling as they cupped his face, and before he could even think, she kissed him.

The world shattered around him.

Her lips were soft, desperate, and there was something raw in the way she kissed him—like she had been waiting just as long as he had. Joe’s heart raced so fast it felt like it might burst. He could feel the tremor in her hands, the heat of her body pressing against his, and in that moment, nothing else mattered. His arms moved instinctively, pulling her closer, needing to feel every part of her, to make sure this was real, that she wasn’t some figment of his longing.

The kiss was everything. Every emotion that had been bottled up between them exploded in that one moment. The longing. The pain. The uncertainty. The need. It was as if all the years of quiet yearning had condensed into this singular, desperate connection. Joe could feel his body respond, his chest tightening with every brush of her lips against his. It was overwhelming. She was here. She was finally here.

When they pulled apart, it was only a breathless moment before he could bring himself to speak, his forehead resting against hers as he tried to ground himself in the reality of the moment. He hadn’t expected this, hadn’t expected her, but somehow, this felt like everything was finally coming together.

She pulled back just enough to look up at him, her voice soft, almost fragile. “Hi.” His heart ached at the sound of her voice, thick with vulnerability. “Hi,” he whispered back, his voice low and full of emotions he couldn’t quite express. The word felt so small in comparison to what he was feeling, but he couldn’t seem to find the right ones.

"What are you doing here?" His voice cracked, the mix of disbelief and emotion heavy in the words. His chest tightened with every passing second, and the flood of questions began to tumble out. Had she come back for good? Was this a mistake? He had so many things to ask, but the most important one was why—why now, after everything? Y/N hesitated, her eyes searching his face as though unsure how to answer. Her fingers brushed lightly against his jaw, and it sent a wave of warmth through him. The way she looked at him—it was as though she was still uncertain, but there was something in her eyes that made his heart ache with longing. She took a step closer, her voice barely above a whisper as she finally said, “I—I was scared.”

Joe’s breath caught in his throat. The admission shook him to his core. She had been scared. Scared of him? Of them? It stung more than he had expected, but there was something else in her eyes, something that spoke of relief, of finally letting go of that fear. “Scared of what?” His voice was barely a whisper, rough with the weight of everything he hadn’t been able to say to her. His fingers gently traced her jawline, needing to reassure her, needing to show her that he would never hurt her, that he was here now, and he wasn’t going anywhere.

“You don’t have to be scared of me,” he added, his voice thick with emotion. He took a step back, drawing her inside, needing to close the distance between them, needing to hold her in a way that he hadn’t been able to for so long. The house felt strangely dim now, and yet, it felt like she was the only light in the room, illuminating everything that had been left unsaid between them.

"I’ve been waiting for you to be ready," he continued, his voice trembling slightly as he cupped her face in his hands. “I’ve been waiting for this. For you.” Her eyes softened at his words, and something inside him snapped—a realization, a clarity he hadn’t had before. She was here. She wasn’t running. She was ready, and so was he. He had never been more sure of anything in his life.

Without thinking, he kissed her again—this time slowly, tenderly, as if to savor every second, every inch of her. His lips moved against hers with a sweetness that made his heart ache, and in that moment, Joe knew that this wasn’t just about desire—it was a promise. A promise of everything they had both been holding back, a promise of what could be, of what they were ready to become. When they finally pulled apart, his forehead rested against hers, his breath uneven as he whispered, “I don’t know what the future holds, but I know I want you in it. I’ve never wanted anything more.”

Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, and his chest tightened at the sight. She was here. She was with him. And in that moment, everything else faded away. It was just the two of them, and all the hurt, the distance, the confusion—everything that had kept them apart—seemed to disappear. “I want that too,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I want you, Joe. I’m not going anywhere.” His heart swelled with an emotion that was almost too much to bear. She was here. She was finally here, and he was finally here, too—no more running, no more hiding.

Joe’s lips curved into a smile, slow and genuine, before he kissed her again, this time with a depth that went beyond words. It wasn’t just a kiss; it was a promise—a promise that no matter what came next, they would face it together. And in that moment, as they stood together, lost in each other, Joe realized this was the beginning. The beginning of something real, something that neither of them had been ready for—until now.

Or was it?

JB9 Taglist: @lilfreakjez, @dasia21, @superanastasia1981, @gg-trini, @wickedfun9

[aellesira]

— THE PRINCE'S ROSE. (kinich x fem! reader)

THE SCROLL'S INDEX.

synopsis: an elaborate recollection of the accounts of the current monarchy, His Excellency King Kinich, and his wife, Her Highness the Queen, and how they fell in love in the royal contest for the noblewomen in the kingdom to have a chance marry the then Prince Kinich. + anecdotes.

status: started 15.02.2025, slow updates. on hold.

content: royal au, romance, jealousy, secret relationships, implied fem! reader (she/her pronouns), mutual pining, angst, fluff.

taglist is currently open!

THE CONTEST.

one. arrival. two. it doesn't concern you. three. splish splash. four. tba… five. tba… six. tba… seven. tba…

ENSUING OUR ENTWINING.

won’t you let my darling know? tba…

© ariadnehelx. please do not translate, feed to ai, plagarize, copy or repost any of my works anywhere.

[wolverineluvr]

cute lil Gojo headcanons I guess?

Childhood friend!gojo who insisted to his parents that you would come to his birthday party, that he wouldn't have it without you. His parents don't like you very much, they're entitled due to their wealth.

Childhood friend!gojo who stayed with you the whole time, he played with you, sometimes with his other friends, but he was stuck to you like you were glued together.

Childhood friend!gojo who had you sit beside him when it was time to open presents, and yours was one of the first. You didn't have much to get him, and you felt embarrassed that your toy was a small stuffed animal with a tear in it, but Satoru held onto it the whole time while opening other presents.

Childhood friend!gojo who, when it was time to eat dinner, had gotten some of your favorite food. He didn't care if other people didn't like it. It was his party. And he shared his first piece of cake with you.

Childhood friend!gojo who invited you to stay at his house for a sleepover, you managed to get your father to say yes, and you had your first sleepover with him.

Childhood friend!gojo who played with you with the toys he got the other day in the morning and took you outside to look at his garden after.

Childhood friend!gojo who almost cried when you had to leave. He couldn't help it. Why couldn't you stay? But eventually he was calmed down by his parents, with the promise that you'd come over next weekend, or after school.

notes: this was a little short, I've been trying to work on other things but I got sick ...

[3vergr3en]

Hi again! I also have this idea of hate fucking Nicholas. He’s getting on my nerves these past few episodes and ofc I love him but I kinda have this fantasy of a wild night with nico where yeah you dislike each other but also have unexplainable desire to HAVE each other right then and there.

Of course, only if you like the idea and are comfortable writing it! Thanks love

🥂 Entangled Desires

(⛓) PAIRING . brother’s!bestfriend!idol!nicholas x fem!reader

(💿) CONTENT . contains mature writing, MDNI.

(📞) A/N . ugh anon, your brain is so yummy 😫😫 Ik what you mean babes, he gives me so— nonchalant but cocky type of vibe that although you know he’s the last person you should consider to let inside your pants, you have this burning desire to fuck him bc you know that he’d fuck you good.

Brother’s!best!friend!Nicholas was always deemed a cocky man. You will never understand how he is best friends with your brother. Euijoo is kind, considerate, and humble. Nicholas is the polar opposite of all of those things.

You thought that little egoism of his would burn out by the end of high school, but it had just gotten so much worse as all three of you grew into adults. It's almost tragic that no one else can see past that ‘I’m so nice and caring’ facade. Not even his fans, not his band members, and unfortunately not Euijoo. Your poor brother has been so oblivious to this, which isn't surprising because he always prioritize the good in people that he oversees the bad. But Nicholas being the little asshole he is, always keeps this crack open for you to peer in, getting a real close look to see his intentions. Wanting you make you seem crazy when you try to warn your brother about him.

He loves to push you over your limits. That little obsession of his started when you three were teens. He’d snatch your clean clothes when you went to shower in the locker rooms after the gym. And he’d only give it back if you..

“Beg nicely for them.” He hums behind you, lips narrowly touching your earlobe.

Startled, you let out a small yelp as you quickly whipped your body around, hands clutching the towel that wrapped around your naked figure that hid beneath. But that fear resided into annoyance remarkably quickly when you saw that stupid, smug grin on his face. “Give. Those. Back. Yixiang.” You muttered, irritation clearly audible in your tone.

He shakes his head disappointingly, “I’ll repeat myself again. Beg. Nicely.” Nicholas recites, giving you a brief, not-so-genuine smile. “C’mon, let me hear you.” His voice deepens when he insists, taking a step forward.

But as much as you hate him, your body tends to react otherwise. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel anything whenever he’d talk to you with such assertion. Especially when he would look at you in a certain way that would make your knees buckle. But being the stubborn person you are, you push past your hormones practically screaming at you and be a big girl. “I’m not begging for shit. Especially not for you.”

“Yeah? Well let’s see about that.”

.

And unfortunately, it continues as you guys are now adults. But instead of verbally taunting you, he’s taken a step further with being more.. physical.

You find yourself hanging out with the group during your free time. Whether it was at their practice rooms, their dorm, or out somewhere— you like being around them and its vise versa for them,, besides one person in particular. And he takes it upon himself to make sure that whenever he sees you, he’d try to have you reeling for the rest of the night.

Tonight, you and the guys were out getting dinner. And unfortunately, the man you oh, so despised had deliberately chosen to sit right next to you— so shocking. “Not tonight, Yixiang. Just let me eat in peace.” You speak, swirling the red liquid around in your glass before taking a long sip.

You fail to notice his eyes gazing down at you, at your figure specifically. The way that mini-dress rode up your thighs and how low-cut the top was, your breasts nearly spilling out if he just.. tug the fabric down. He’s practically eye-fucking you without any shame.

He inches his lips towards your ear, getting real close where you can feel his warm breath on your neck. “No funny business, Nicholas.” You warn once more, eyes darting between the others who were engrossed in their own conversations to notice the two of you who sat at the end.

His big, vainy hand found a place on your bare thigh. His cold rings making contact with your warm skin, making you lightly hiss through gritted teeth. “You look like a whore in that dress. Pretty hot I’d say.” His words rung in your ear, thumb caressing the soft skin of your inner thigh.

You go to wrap your hands around his wrist, contemplating if you should stop him.. or move his hand closer to there. “Wow, so kind coming from a guy like you.” You murmured, side-eyeing him with an unamused expression written all over your face.

“Hm, you say that.. but I can practically feel how hot you are.” He whispers, taking your earlobe in between his teeth to bite on. Not hard enough to hurt, but enough that it makes you squeeze your thighs together— trapping his hand in between your legs.

“Just admit it. You want me.” He adds on, prying your legs apart. “Tell me how badly you want my fingers inside of you.” His voice velvety smooth, just like his fingers as they trace up your thigh till it reaches your underwear.

“I don’t want you touching anywhere on me.” You breathe out, chest heaving as you feel yourself growing hotter.

“Is that so? So you would stop me if I did.. something like this?” He asked, his index and middle finger rubbing your clit through the cotton fabric.

You take in a sharp breath, eyelids threatening to close as you let yourself indulge in the feeling a little bit. “What would the others say if they saw you like this? What would your brother say, hm?” His voice taunts you, but its turning you on even more. And he can feel that as your wetness seeped through your underwear.

Your eyelids shoots open as reality hits you. You’re out at dinner right now. In front of people. In front of your brother who sat oblivious next to you.

He quickens the pace on his fingers, “N-Not here, Yixiang.” You reply, biting down your bottom lip to suppress a moan.

And just like that, he stops.

You gawk at him, eyes hooded with need that couldn’t compare to how his was. Nicholas stared at you with lips slightly parted, deep breaths and eyes filled with lust that sent shivers down your spine. “Meet me in the car in 5.” Is all he said before excusing himself.

.

You don’t know what happened, but you found yourself being pulled into the back seat of his car, and onto his lap with a pair of lips eagerly attaching onto yours. No words were shared, but you both can feel the yearning that was exchanged.

Your hands were found to be in his hair, gently tugging his black locks as he kissed you feverishly. Your heads swayed in a rhythm to match the desperation that was oozing out of you guys.

He momentarily pulls away to catch his breath, and he swears to himself when he allows himself to take in the sight before him. Your hair was disheveled, lips swollen and parted to let out staggering breaths but were glistening in his saliva, and the straps of your dress were hung past your shoulders— top threatening to fall down.

“You look so—“ He was cut short when you kiss him, taking him aback. And a groan emits from his throat when you grind your clothed cunt against his crotch. “Fucking slut.” He curses in between kisses, hands groaping at your ass.

“Shut the fuck up.” You retaliate, lips parting to let out a series of whimpers as his kisses made their way down to your neck. Your flesh was found to be in between his teeth, nibbling on the skin to form red bruises— him knowing that it’ll appear darker for the next occurring days.

You slip the straps off of your arms, allowing the top of your dress to fall freely— your breasts spilling out of its confines. “Fuck. Such gorgeous tits.” You hear him say, one of his hands traveling up your sides till he cups one of the soft flesh in his palms.

“Hurry up Yixiang, before I get dry.” You warn, hands desperately reaching under to undo the belt of his pants. But was stopped with a hand around your wrist, halting you.

“Beg for it then.”

“Fuck you.” You spat.

But his other hand was quick to wrap around your neck and the moan that followed from you was enough to feed his already high of an ego. He pulls you closer to him, lips ghosting over yours. “Beg for it or else I’m leaving you here.” You would’ve thought he was kidding, but knowing him, he’s a man of his word.

He pinches his fingers into the side of your throat, not enough to cut off your air, but enough to give you a warning.

“Please, give it to me, Nicholas.. I want it.” You plea, rolling your hips around in attempt to rub your clothed cunt on his prominent bulge. “Please, Yixiang?”

The way you said his name made something within him internally snap. Was it you calling out for him? Maybe you saying his name in such a seductive manner? Or maybe it’s the fact that you’re finally begging him, especially when it’s for him to fuck you.

He flips you two over with his hand pinning you down onto the seat cushion by your throat. “Such a good girl.” He hums with a cocky smile, halting his movements to dip down and give you a gentle kiss, “All you could’ve done was beg like a good slut and maybe then I could’ve fucked you earlier than now.”

You reacted to that statement with a moan that was not intended to come out, but hey, does it matter at this point? “God, I knew you were a slut— but I didn’t know how much. You’ve probably been waiting for me to fuck you for a while now, hm?” And you nod. You nod desperately. Finally succumbing into your desires all these years.

He leans down to take your lips with his once more, but this kiss was more passionate than lustful. It was as if he was confessing his similar desires, but with a more personal touch to it.

In that interim, his pants were pulled down and discarded, along with his underwear and shirt. Your dress was bunched up to your waist, revealing your lower half. “You’re so beautiful.” He whispered against your lips as he pumps himself in his hand.

“Please, Nicholas,, I—I need you.” You mewl, hands finding themselves on him. One cupping the side of his face, and one pressed flat against his bare chest.

Your underwear was pulled to the side by his fingers, and he allowed the head of his cock to slide between your slicked folds. He thought you may needed prep, but with how much of his cock was being smothered in your arousal, you didn’t need it. His mouth hung open in awe as he watches how easily he’s gliding between you. “You’re so wet, princess.” The pet name rolls off his tongue so smoothly that it makes you clench around nothing but air. You gasp when his head continuously nudges against your clit, giving you the stimulation you needed. He pulls his hips back, grabbing the shaft of his cock to align his tip to your entrance. “Gon’ let me rub this pretty clit, hm?” He coos, his hand reaching up to rub fast circles along the bundle of nerves. “Oh my god—!” You moan as you feel him start to push himself into you.

The sensation of his cock prying your walls apart so deliciously was enough to have your head lolling back with his name slipping off your tongue in a desperate manner. You were concerned with how long you were gonna last when you already felt this good when he wasn’t even fully in yet.

“Oh, fuck.” Nicholas groans as your heat engulfed him tightly. “You’re so tight, fuck. Don’t know why I didn’t fuck this pussy before.” With one push of his hips, he fully bottoms out inside of you— and in unison, you both moan out in pure bliss. Nicholas’s eyes momentarily flutters shut as your warm, gummy walls squeezing him tight was a sensation he didn’t know he needed so badly in his lifetime.

“J-Just.. give me a moment.” You breathe out, your fingers gently taps his chest to indicate that you need a little time to get used to his size. And he gladly onliges without hesitation. Probably the first time where he went along with your wishes. Once you felt more relaxed, you didn’t waste any more time to let him know. “M-Move, please.”

He started with a slow but steady pace, making sure not to overwhelm you although the thing he wants to do to you right now is to fuck you senseless. But he would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy seeing your face contort in pleasure, moans slipping freely past those plump lips. “Yixiang..!” You gasp when a particular thrust had your legs wrapping around his waist.

“Yeah, princess? Does this spot feel good?” He rolls his hips experimentally, wanting to get another reaction like that out of you. And just as he thought, another delicious cry emits from you. “Tell me, does it feel good?” He questions, beginning to pick up the pace. You want to reply, but you’re unable to voice it out at the moment when the tip of his cock keeps hitting at a certain spot that makes your vision blur. “Yixiang! Oh fuck!” You cry as he starts snapping his hips against yours. The force of his thrusts were powerful enough to have you hike up the seat if it weren’t for his hand pinning you down by your neck. “M-More! Oh my god!”

Nicholas had to ground himself from losing his control. But it doesn’t necessarily help when he has the girl of his dreams writhing underneath him, taking his cock like a fucking champ. He forces his eyes to stay open rather than closing them and letting himself get lost in his head and potentially lasting shorter than he anticipated to. Which is the last thing he wants when he finally has you to himself.

You looked so beautiful under right now. The way your glossy eyes gazes at him with such a distinct look of desperation, your furrowed brows of concentration to not finish that quickly, and those beautiful moans that made him want to listen to for hours on end.

You were feeling like you were nearing your end, and the pressure in your lower abdomen was a huge factor. “Y-Yixiang, I’m gonna cum!” You announce with a shaky voice, sharp breaths along with a mantra of his name follows afterwards. And he can definitely feel it too with the way your clamping down on him was dangerously pushing him to cumming inside of you. “Fuck, you feel so good, princess. Come with me, okay? Just hold on a little longer.” He urges you, dipping down to leave open-mouthed kisses on your flushed cheek.

You nod in response, wanting to come with him. But with each passing moment was harder for you. Your hands latched onto his sweaty back, nails digging into the smooth flesh, dragging along his skin as you desperately tried to suppress your growing need to come. “Please, Nicholas!”

He grabbed the back of your knees and pushed them up to your chest, essentially folding you in half. When he pushed himself up onto his knees, he began slamming his hips down onto yours, reaching a deeper angle in this position. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum, y/n.” Hot, fat tears starts rolling down your cheeks as the pressure became unbearable for you to hold. But with one last thrust, his hips were flushed against your ass, and just like that— the knot within your stomach comes undone. A lewd cry leaves your lips as waves of your orgasm washed over you, leaving you to ride it out. With your name spilling out, he spills his load into your sopping cunt. Filling you up so much to the point where his cum began seeping out of your hole.

You guys stayed like that for a few more seconds until he eventually has to pull out, resulting in you whining as even that sensation was overwhelming for you. Your hands reach out to hold his, “D-Don’t go,, stay here for a minute, please?” You breathe out heavily, eyelids threatening to close on you. Nicholas couldn’t help but chuckle as he goes to lay down beside you. He engulfs you into his arms, making sure your naked figure was covered by his. “Wasn’t planning on it, princess.” He whispers, kissing your temple. “Whatever.. I know you would.” You mumble, sighing in content when his hand would gently massage your thigh. “Hm, I’m a little hurt, princess. After all these years, you still don’t know me.”

“I think I know you a little too well.” You respond, looking over your shoulder to give him a small smile.

“Yeah? On a scale of 1-10, how much do you think I wanna go for round 2?”