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No to Saudi Arabia 2034
WHY?
Fan alliance protests against football World Cup in Saudi Arabia.
What's the point? The International Football Federation is corrupt to the core, so let them scribble the World Cup football law, no matter what inhumane system.
Saudi Arabia, the land of football and fan culture.
A hilarious joke about money and influence, a sport to show a friendly face.
Forget the corrupt football of the officials, do your own local thing. Play football the way it was played in the beginning.
Don't watch the pay-for-nothing football of the officials anymore.
How come there's no outcry about cultural appropriation? I don't think it would be helpful, but it would be funny.
Those creeps have already built ski halls, so why not the Winter Olympics in Saudi Arabia?
Any international event that still has any sense of morals and ethical principles should steer clear of corrupt, power-hungry systems.
Football in Saudi Arabia makes as much sense as an ashtray on a jet ski.
mod
How many people have been executed in footballing nations in 2024? 0
Number of executions rises to highest level in decades
Saudi authorities have executed over 198 people so far in 2024. This is the highest number of executions in Saudi Arabia since 1990.
I think they are so nice and don't execute people. That would be the official football World Cup, but it would be intensified afterwards. Really sporty, no, misanthropic, unfair. But if the prince wants it, he buys it.
#Football in Saudi Arabia#fussball#fan Football#galelry mod#freedom of expression#corruption#fifa#kingdom of saudi arabia#equal rights#equal justice#equality
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❝ borderline, j. burrow & t. higgins. ❞ ┉
⁎⠀┉⠀summary: working in and around the nfl for years, there aren't many people in the league who can knock you off your game. by some twist of fate, two of them show up together, hoping to lure you into their orbit.
⁎⠀┉⠀author's note: as requested by an anon <3 pls don't read if you're uncomfortable with this concept. didn't really know how to end this one so it's ambiguous lmao did this lowkey give me an idea for a pt 2? maybe. joe calls reader "sweetheart", tee calls reader "baby".
⁎⠀┉⠀warnings: smut, please do not interact with my work if you are under 18. language, friends to lovers (?) the plural is intentional, threesome, fingering, eiffel tower but not really, blowjob, face fucking, cum eating, facial, somewhat dom!joe, switch!tee, pre-meditated threesome if you squint, praise kink.
⁎⠀┉⠀pairing: joe burrow x reader x tee higgins.
⁎⠀┉⠀word count: 6.8k.
You walked through the grand hotel lobby, your stilettos clicking against the marble floor. Your emerald green dress clung to your body like a glove, drawing the occasional admiring glance. You had looked forward to this wedding the entire season, eager to see your favorite players and closest friends all congregated in one place. As a sports journalist, you had become accustomed to the glitz and glamour of high-profile events, but this one felt different. It was personal.
The reception area was a flurry of activity as guests mingled and waitstaff glided around with trays of hors d'oeuvres and sparkling drinks. The scent of expensive perfumes and cologne hung in the air, mixed with the faint aroma of roasting meat from the nearby dining hall.
You spotted your close friend Bree chatting with a few other guests, her eyes lighting up when she caught sight of you. Bree waved you over, gesturing to the table you had been assigned. To your surprise, Joe Burrow and Tee Higgins, two of the Cincinnati Bengals' star players, were already seated at the table, sipping on their drinks and looking dapper in their tuxedos.
"Hey, y'all," you greeted them with a bright smile, placing your clutch on the table. "I didn't know you two were close to Amber and Dan."
Joe's smile was warm, but his sarcasm was as sharp as ever, his eyes crinkling as he took a sip of his whiskey. "To be honest, I'm not sure why I was invited. Maybe they felt sorry for me because I don't get out much." The admission drew chuckles from the rest of the table, but you knew him well enough to detect the hint of self-deprecating playfulness in his voice.
Tee spoke up next, his signature soft-spoken confidence unwavering even amidst the buzz of the crowded room. "I've known Amber since college, actually. Her sister dated my roommate." He leaned back in his seat, a glass of champagne in hand, his eyes lingering on your face as he took a sip. "You close with Daniel?"
You nodded, feeling a rush of pride as you thought of your career achievements. "Yeah, I've had some pretty memorable interviews with him. The sit-down I did with him after his knee injury helped me land my gig on First Take." You took a sip of your own drink, the cool liquid doing little to quell the heat rising in your cheeks as you weathered the intense gazes of the two athletes.
"How sweet," Joe said with a smirk, raising his glass of whiskey in a mock toast. "Is that why you swore he was league MVP last season?"
You rolled your eyes, but couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up from your chest. "Okay, okay, I might have been a bit biased. But I owed him for that interview," you took a sip of your drink, the cool liquid sliding down your throat, your eyes dancing with mischief. "Were you jealous?"
Joe's smirk grew wider, his blue eyes flickered over to Tee's brown ones before moving back to find yours. "Maybe a little," he admitted, his hand landing casually on your thigh, sending a jolt of excitement through your body. You felt the heat rising from his palm through the thin fabric of your dress, and you couldn't help but lean into his touch.
As if sensing it was his turn to flirt with you, Tee leaned closer, his hand ghosting against your shoulder as it fell over the back of your chair. "How's First Take going for you? Still holding your own against Stephen A?" His voice was a smooth rumble, and you couldn't help but smile, the tension easing a bit.
"I defended you guys last week, you know," you said with a smirk, swirling the ice in your drink. "Told him you're both underappreciated."
Joe's eyes lit up. "You did?" His hand fell heavier around your thigh as Tee's fingers traced lazy circles into your exposed skin, the warmth of their body heat seeping into your very soul. "I knew I liked you for a reason."
The words left his mouth casually, but you felt a flutter in your stomach. Tee's accompanying laugh did little to ease the tension that had suddenly thickened the air around the three of you.
The conversation grew more intimate, their touches lingering longer, the air around you crackling with unspoken desires. You felt the weight of their gazes on you, the way they studied your every move, every breath. It was like being the star of their own private show, and you found yourself playing up to their attention, your laughs a little louder, your movements a little more exaggerated.
Bree had long disappeared into the crowded dance floor, leaving you alone with Joe and Tee. Your conversation grew quieter, and more intimate, as you shared stories of your lives outside of football. You felt a strange connection with the two men, a bond that extended beyond the superficial. You tried your best to ignore the heat building between your legs as Joe's fingers traced patterns into your bare skin. Tee's thumb pressing into the pressure point at the back of your neck sent a shiver down your spine.
The music grew louder, the rhythm pulsing through the floor and into your bodies. The lights grew dimmer, casting a seductive glow over the three of you. You found yourself leaning into Tee's touch, your eyes locked onto Joe's as he spoke about his most recent charity event for his foundation. His words cast a sharp contrast with the deep, soothing, seduction of his voice.
The conversation grew more flirty, Joe's hand sliding further up your thigh under the cover of the tablecloth. You gasped, trying to keep your cool, but the heat of his touch was like a brand on your skin. Tee noticed your reaction and leaned in, whispering something to Joe that made his eyes darken with desire.
"You good?" Tee asked, his voice a soft rumble against your ear. You nodded, your voice a little shaky. "Yeah, I'm okay." But you weren't okay; your nerves were on fire, the anticipation building like a storm in your chest.
The tension at the table grew so thick it was almost tangible, your eyes speaking volumes in the dimly lit room. When Joe leaned in closer, his breath a warm caress against your neck, you couldn't resist anymore. You turned to him, your eyes asking him a silent question, unwilling to potentially tip off a noisy guest to your newfound chemistry. Tee watched, his own desire evident in the way he licked his lips, his hand moving from your neck to squeeze your other thigh.
Recognizing the confirmation in Joe's eyes, your head turned to look at Tee, the same question in your eyes. He answered it with a smoldering gaze that left no room for doubt. "Come with us," he murmured, his voice a seductive invitation that sent a thrill through your body.
The three of you stood as one, the two men flanking your sides like bodyguards, guiding you through the sea of wedding guests. The music grew louder, the rhythm beckoning you to the dance floor, but you had other plans. Your heart raced as Joe's hand slid down your back, his fingers tracing the curve of your ass, while the back of Tee's hand brushed against yours. The electricity between you was undeniable, a current that could light up the entire hotel.
The three of you moved through the crowd, the warmth of your bodies pressing together, the heat of your desire almost too much to handle. When you reached the elevator, the tension was unbearable. Joe's hands pulled your back flush against his chest, making you gasp as his strong hands wandered across the material of your dress. Tee stood in front of you, his hand tipping your head back as he claimed your mouth in a kiss that was anything but casual. The doors closed, and the world outside was forgotten.
The elevator ride was a blur of hands and lips, the three of you exploring each other's bodies like you had been waiting for this moment your entire lives. Your dress was hiked up, Joe's hand slipping under your panties to feel the wetness that had pooled there. Tee's hand found your breasts, kneading them gently as Joe whispered sweet nothings into your ear. The ding of the elevator arriving at Tee's floor brought you back to reality with a jolt. You stumbled out into the hallway, breathless and desperate.
Tee fumbled with the keycard, the anticipation almost too much to bear. You giggled as Joe muttered low and bitter under his breath, "Take your time, buddy."
The door finally clicked open, and the three of you tumbled into the room, a whirlwind of lust and passion. The lights were dimmed, casting a seductive glow across the plush king-sized bed. Your heart pounded in your chest as you watched the two men, both so powerful on the field, look at you with a hunger you hadn't seen before.
Joe took the lead, his eyes dark with desire as he approached you, his hand sliding around your waist and pulling you against his firm chest. His kiss was demanding, his tongue delving into your mouth as if he could taste your thoughts, your fears, your desires. Tee's hands were on your shoulders, pushing the dress down your arms, exposing your bare breasts to the cool air. You gasped as Joe's mouth moved to your neck, his teeth grazing your sensitive skin as his hands found your nipples, ghosting his fingertips over the peaks.
"Hold on," you said, placing a hand on Joe's wrist to still his movements. You took a deep breath, your eyes searching theirs for any sign of doubt. "Are you two sure that if I do this, there won't be some blonde chick harassing me on Instagram afterward?"
"You know we don't do drama. That's the last thing we need before the season," Joe assured you, his hands sliding up your arms to cup your shoulders. "We're just here to have a good time." His voice was a low purr, his gaze intense.
Tee stepped closer to you, a tattooed hand reaching up to cup your jaw, his thumb brushing your lower lip. "We promise, baby," he whispered, his eyes dark with lust. "This is just about us, right here, right now."
You searched their eyes, the room spinning with a mix of excitement and trepidation. You nodded slowly before speaking up again, "Okay, no pics, no videos, and this stays between the three of us. Agreed?"
"Scout's honor," Joe murmured, his hand sliding around your waist and pulling you closer.
Tee leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a gentle, almost chaste kiss. The room felt electrified as your body responded instinctively, your hands moving to rest on his broad chest. You could feel Joe's erection pressing against your back, his breath hot against your neck as he watched the exchange. The heat of their bodies, the scent of your desire, and the promise of what was to come washed over you like a wave.
"You guys are playing with fire," you murmured against Tee's mouth, but the smirk that played on his lips told you he knew exactly what he was doing. He broke the kiss, a knowing look passing between the two men. You gasped, pushing back against Joe as his hands found your tits, his palms squeezing them roughly, thumbs brushing against your nipples through the fabric of your dress.
"We know," Joe whispered in your ear, his breath sending shivers down your spine. "But sometimes, you've gotta risk getting burned." His hand slipped down to the zipper of your dress, pulling it down slowly, inch by torturous inch. The cool air of the room hit your bare back, making your skin pebble with goosebumps.
Tee stepped back, his eyes never leaving yours as he began to unbutton his shirt, his muscles rippling with every movement. You felt a rush of arousal as he revealed his sculpted chest, the ink on his skin telling a story of strength and resilience. He slid the shirt off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor, and you couldn't help but bite your lips in anticipation.
"You're so fuckin' sexy," Joe murmured, his hand slipping into your hair as he pulled you in for another kiss. You moaned into his mouth, feeling Tee's hands on your hips as he turned you to face him. The two men moved around you like a perfectly choreographed dance, each touch setting your skin on fire.
The two men took turns kissing you, each one's touch different yet equally electrifying. Joe's kisses were demanding, his tongue exploring your mouth with a hunger that made your legs tremble. Tee's were soft and gentle, his lips brushing yours in a way that made you feel cherished. Your hands roamed over their broad chests, feeling the firmness of their muscles beneath the warm skin.
Tee stepped away, his eyes dark with desire as he took in the sight of you. "Damn, baby," he breathed, reaching out to trace the curves of your breasts. His thumbs brushed against your nipples, making them peak. Joe's hands slid down your back, unclipping your bra and letting it fall away. The cool air made you gasp, your breasts bouncing slightly as you were exposed to them in nothing but the flimsy excuse for panties you had chosen for the night.
The tension in the room was thick, the anticipation almost a tangible force. You felt their eyes on you, the weight of their desire a heavy presence that made your knees weak. You stepped out of your heels, the impact of your bare feet on the carpeted floor leaving the football players towering over you.
"Get on the bed," Tee murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. You obeyed, your legs feeling like jelly as you crawled onto the plush mattress. As you sat, perched and pretty, on the comforter, Joe began to undress, allowing Tee to make the first move.
Tee's eyes never left yours as he approached, his tuxedo jacket tossed aside and his bow tie undone. His large, strong hands reached for you, gripping your ankles and yanking you closer to the edge of the bed. You felt the heat from his body as he leaned in, his warm breath fanning your face as he whispered, "You're so fucking beautiful."
His words sent a shiver through you as he pushed your thighs apart, revealing your damp panties. Joe stepped closer, his own pants undone, his erection straining against his boxer briefs. He reached out, sliding one finger along the lacy fabric before hooking his thumbs into the waistband and pulling them to the side, exposing you to their hungry gazes.
"Goddamn," Tee whispered, his eyes locked on your nakedness. Joe's dick grew harder in his briefs as he watched his friend's reaction, his own desire mirrored in the tightness of Tee's jaw. Your heart was racing, your chest rising and falling with anticipation. You felt a thrill run through you as you watched their reactions, your own anticipation reaching a fever pitch.
"Prettiest pussy you've ever seen, huh?" Joe said with a smirk, his eyes darkening as he took in the sight of your bare skin. Tee nodded, unable to form coherent words as he stared.
You felt a warmth creep up your neck as you both took a moment to appreciate your body. You had always felt confident in your own skin, but the raw, carnivorous hunger in their expressions was something you had never experienced before. It was like they were really seeing you for the first time, and the thought of being desired by two such powerful, successful men was a heady aphrodisiac.
The room grew quiet, and the only sound was the rustle of clothes being removed. Your breathing grew shallow as Joe knelt before you, his eyes never leaving yours as he slowly peeled off your panties. Tee sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes raking over your exposed flesh with a look that made you quiver with anticipation. You could see his cock, thick and hard, straining against his boxers.
"You're so beautiful," Joe murmured, his breath hot against your thigh. He placed a soft kiss to your inner thigh, sending a shiver up your spine. Tee leaned in, his warm breath caressing your skin as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear, his hand moving to cup your breast. You felt like you were in a dream, the reality of the situation slowly sinking in as Joe's tongue found your clit.
Their touches grew more urgent, more demanding, as they worked in tandem to bring you to the edge. Your hips began to rock, your body responding instinctively to the sensations they were creating. You felt Joe's hand slip between your legs, his fingers teasing your folds before sliding inside you, the feel of his thick digits stretching you and setting your body alight. Tee's mouth found yours, a heavy hand reaching to squeeze at the sides of your neck, your moans muffled by his kisses.
Your eyes rolled back in your head as Joe's thumb found your clit, circling the sensitive nub with the expertise of a maestro conducting an orchestra of pleasure. Tee's tongue danced with yours, his teeth grazing your bottom lip. You felt yourself spiraling closer to the precipice, your body tightening around Joe's hand.
The room was a whirlwind of sensations: the scent of their cologne, the sound of fabric shifting, the feel of Joe's calloused hands on your skin. It was almost too much, and you were lost in a haze of pleasure when Tee broke away, leaving you gasping for air.
"Gonna come, baby?" Tee's question was a breathy murmur in your ear, his hand moving from your neck to cup your cheek as he watched your face contort with pleasure. You could only nod, unable to form words as Joe's fingers worked their magic.
Your eyes locked onto Tee's above you as you felt Joe's thumb press down hard on your clit, your body arching off the bed as your orgasm hit you like a wave, crashing over you in an explosion of color and sensation. You moaned weakly, your pussy clenching around Joe's hand as you rode the peak, your nails digging into the mattress.
When you finally came down, Joe withdrew his hand, a smug smile on his face. As if sharing a sense of telepathy, the two men stood up simultaneously to remove their boxers, revealing their generous lengths. You couldn't help but whimper at the sight, your heart racing with excitement and nerves.
"Make some room for me," Tee said with a mischievous smile, sliding onto the bed behind you as you sat up. His hand traveled down your body, his thumb brushing the swollen bud of your clit before sliding two fingers inside you. You gasped as he began to pump them in and out, his touch gentle yet firm.
Joe, who had stepped up to the edge of the bed, watched with darkened eyes as Tee worked his magic. He nodded towards Tee's lap as your eyes fluttered open. "You gonna get on top, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice thick with lust. You licked your lips, nodding eagerly.
With a smile, you shuffled over to Tee, your eyes meeting his hooded browns. You straddled Tee's thighs, feeling his hardness beneath you. He took a moment to appreciate the sight of you, his breathing heavy, before he leaned up and kissed you again, his tongue dancing with yours. You could feel Joe's eyes on the two of you, his gaze burning into your skin as you reached down to stroke Tee's dick before sinking down on it with a moan.
The feel of him filling you sent you both spiraling and you had to bite back a scream as you adjusted to his size. Tee's hands gripped your hips, guiding your movements as you began to ride him. The sound of your bodies slapping together filled the room, mingling with your moans and gasps for air. You leaned back into Joe as he slotted behind you, his hands pressing blistering heat into your skin as he kissed your neck and whispered encouragement into your ear.
Tee pulled his bottom lip into his mouth, his eyes hooded with desire as he watched you take him in. He reached up, his hands finding your tits, and began to tease your nipples as you rode him. The sight of you bouncing on his dick, your pussy squeezing him with every move, had him on the edge of his seat, quite literally. You threw your head back, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you moaned out Tee's name, feeling the heat of Joe's chest against your back.
Joe's hands began to wander, caressing your body as you moved in rhythm with Tee. His fingers found your clit, rubbing it in slow circles that had your pussy spasming around Tee's cock. Your moans grew louder, your body moving faster as Joe's touch grew more insistent. You felt Tee's cock thicken inside you, and you knew he was close.
"Fuck, Joe, you seein' this shit?" Tee's voice was strained, his eyes glazed with pleasure as he watched your body take his length. Joe's only response was a low, feral growl as he continued to tease your clit.
"Perfect fuckin' fit," Joe murmured, his own arousal clear as he lazily stroked himself in time with your rhythm.
Your breathing grew shallow, your eyes locked onto Tee's. You felt Joe's breath against your neck, his teeth grazing your skin as his fingers worked their magic. "I'm gonna cum," you gasped, your voice a desperate plea.
"Again?" Tee teased, brown eyes glittering with excitement as he watched your body tense with the approaching wave of pleasure. "I ain't complaining, but you're gonna wear me out." Your face grew hot as you felt the dual pressure of Tee inside you and Joe's thumb on your clit, pushing you to the edge.
"I can't help it," you panted, "you two are just too much."
Joe's chuckle was a dark promise against your ear. "We're just getting to the good part," he half promised, half teased, his breath sending shivers down your spine.
The room was a whirlwind of sensation: the slick slide of skin, the scent of arousal, the heat of two men surrounding you. Finally, you threw your head back again, your dark hair fanning out against Joe's pale shoulder as you came, your pussy clamping down on Tee's cock.
Your eyebrows furrowed as the orgasm ripped through you, drawn out by the feel of both Joe and Tee's hands on you. You barely registered Tee's cock slipping away from your heat, chuckling darkly as Joe watched your body spasm with pleasure. The quarterback muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like "Fuck me," and you felt a shyness creep over your cheeks, even in the throes of passion.
"Stand up for me, sweetheart," Joe finally murmured, his voice thick with desire. You complied, your legs shaky as Joe helped you to your feet. Tee leaned back on his elbows, his cock still throbbing against his stomach, glistening with your combined arousal.
Joe's hands slid around your waist, positioning you to face Tee. He whispered in her ear, "Suck his cock, baby. Make him feel good."
Your eyes widened, but the desire in Joe's voice and the way Tee's eyes lit up at the suggestion made your body respond immediately. You leaned over the edge of the bed as Tee scooted backward to allow room for your chest to rest on the sheets between his spread legs. Carefully, Tee swept your hair up into a crude ponytail, giving him an unobstructed view of your beautiful brown skin and the way your back arched with anticipation.
Your mouth hovered over Tee's cock, your breath warm against the sensitive flesh. His hands tangled in your hair, guiding you down as you took him in. Your cheeks hollowed out as you sucked him in deep, your eyes closing delicately as you moaned around the taste of your arousal coating his length.
Joe's hand trailed over your skin to squeeze at your ass, sliding his cock to nestle in your warm pearl. "Fuck, you feel amazing," he murmured, his voice a gruff rumble that sent shivers down your spine. You moaned around Tee's cock, the vibrations making him twitch with pleasure. Tee's grip tightened in your hair, guiding your movements as he guided your head up and down his length, his eyes tracing over your blissed-out expression.
Your bodies moved in harmony, a symphony of passion and desire that had been building since you first set eyes on each other that evening. The room was a whirlwind of sensations - Joe's calloused fingers digging into your skin, Tee's cock sliding in and out of your mouth, and the smell of your combined arousal. You felt like you were floating, weightless and free, as you gave in to the moment.
With a surge of energy, you lifted from Tee's dick, swirling your tongue around his mushroom tip with a self-indulgent smile. Joe's eyes lit up as he watched you, his own arousal evident as he continued thrusting into you. Tee's chest heaved as he took in the sight of you, his abs clenching with the effort to hold back.
"What the fuck?" Tee's eyes went wide with shock and arousal as he watched your teeth graze lightly over the most sensitive part of him, your eyes all innocent and pure as you gazed up at him. He didn't know what was happening, but his body was definitely on board. Your tongue flicked out, licking up the precum that beaded at the tip of his cock, making him grit his teeth in an attempt to keep from coming too soon.
Joe's breath was hot against your neck as he whispered, "Take him all the way in, baby," his hands on your hips pushing you down slightly. You obeyed, taking Tee deep into your mouth, the sound of your wetness as Joe fucked you from behind echoing through the room.
The sensation was overwhelming, the taste of Tee combined with the feeling of Joe's cock deep inside you making you moan around the head of Tee's dick. The vibrations sent his bottom lip between his teeth, his head dipping back with a strangled groan, nostrils flaring with concentration. You felt Joe's grip tighten, his thrusts growing more erratic as he approached his own climax. Tee's eyes never left yours, the intensity of his gaze making your pussy clench around Joe's cock.
"Fuck," Tee hissed as your head bobbed up and down, your cheeks hollowing with each suck. The sight of your full lips stretched around his length and Joe's hand guiding you was more than he could handle. His own hand tightened in your hair, his hips jerking involuntarily.
"So good," you moaned around Tee's cock, your body trembling with the force of Joe's thrusts. Your third orgasm was building, a storm gathering on the horizon, ready to unleash its fury at any moment. Tee's hand stroked your cheek, the sweetness of his touch a stark contrast to the raw, animalistic need driving Joe.
"Good girl," Joe groaned, his grip tightening on your hips as he watched you take Tee's cock deeper into your mouth. He could feel you tightening around him, your body begging for release. "Prettiest girl I've ever seen," the quarterback whispered, his voice thick with lust.
Tee's eyes rolled back, lost in the pleasure of your mouth. His hand on the back of your head grew more insistent, his hips bucking slightly as he approached climax. Your eyes watered, but you didn't pull away, your own pleasure building with every gag and moan you muffled around Tee's dick.
"Oh, shit," he moaned, his voice a deep, guttural sound that sent another shiver down your spine. You felt Joe's cock thicken even more inside you, his hips stuttering as he fought to hold back.
"Bet she dreamed about this, Tee," Joe murmured, his breath hot against your neck. You felt Tee's cock twitch in your mouth at the words, his eyes dark with desire.
"I know she did. Drooling all over my dick like this. Lookin' all pretty," Tee chuckled, his voice strained with arousal.
With that, Joe took over once again. He pulled you off Tee's cock, laughing out loud as his wide receiver shot him a sour look. "Joe," he groaned holding his hands up in protest, but Joe was having none of it.
You felt the warmth of Joe's breath on your neck as he leaned in to whisper, "Gonna look so much prettier with his cum all over your pretty face, gorgeous."
The thought sent a jolt of excitement through you, and you moaned out loud, closing your eyes as you tried to will yourself to hold off on your burgeoning orgasm. Tee's eyes widened as he caught onto Joe's words, a devious smirk playing on his lips.
The tension in the room grew palpable as Tee's hand on the back of your head grew firmer, guiding your movements. You felt his cock swell, the veins pulsing against your tongue. Your eyes watered as you took him deeper, your throat tightening around his shaft. The feeling of being used so thoroughly, by two men who had you pinned and writhing with pleasure, was intoxicating.
"Open that pretty mouth for me, baby," Tee urged softly, his voice thick with lust. You complied, presenting your tongue as Tee's cock slid out of your mouth, leaving a trail of precum. You watched as he stroked himself, his hand moving fast and sure.
"God, you're so fucking sexy," Joe murmured, his eyes locked onto the scene before him. You could feel his breath on your neck, his own arousal leaking into you. The anticipation was unbearable, the room seemingly closing in on you as Tee's strokes grew faster. You felt Joe's hand come down to rest on your lower back, hips stilling as Tee approached his climax.
"Gonna paint that pretty face, baby," Tee warned you, his voice tight with restraint. You nodded eagerly, your eyes fluttering shut as you felt the first warm spurt of cum hit your cheek, sliding down to your chin. Tee groaned, his hand moving in fast jerks as he coated you in his release. When he was done, you opened your eyes to find Joe watching you, his own desire clear.
Joe's hand moved from your back to your face, his thumb brushing over your cum-covered cheek. "Taste it," he instructed, his voice a seductive growl. You obeyed, your kiss-swollen lips wrapping around the pad of his thumb, a smile pulling at the corners of your mouth, feeling the stickiness of Tee's release on your skin.
"You fuckin' liked that, didn't you?" Tee's voice was filled with a mix of pride and satisfaction as he watched you lick his cum off Joe's thumb. Your eyes sparkled with amusement as you nodded, a giggle bubbling out of you. The room was thick with the scent of your combined arousal, your hearts pounding in sync with the pulsing beat of the bass from the party below.
Joe's smile grew wicked. His grip on your hips tightened, his dick still buried deep inside you as he began to move again, slowly at first. You fully moaned out, any shyness completely forgotten as you felt Joe twitch inside you. The power play between them had you more turned on than you'd ever been.
Tee laughed as he finally began to recover from his orgasm. "Go 'head, baby, make Joey cum. I think he worked hard for it." He winked at you, who rolled your eyes playfully. The room was thick with lust, your heavy breathing echoing off the walls.
Joe leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. "Think he's right, sweetheart?" he questioned, his voice low and rough. Your eyes fluttered shut as you felt him begin to move again, his strokes deep and deliberate. You moaned around the taste of Tee's cum, the sound muffled by your head falling into the sheets.
"Fuck, yes," you managed to murmur, your hips rocking back to meet him. Joe's chuckle was deep and dark as he picked up his pace, his hands moving to squeeze your sides as he drove into you. Your eyes rolled back in your head, the feeling of being filled with Joe's cock and watching Tee's exhausted, satisfied face was overwhelming.
"Look at me, sweetheart," Joe demanded, his voice strained as he pulled you up against him. Your back arched as you opened your eyes to find his piercing blues staring down at you. "I wanna see your face when I come inside you."
Your eyes locked onto his, the intensity of his gaze setting your body ablaze. You could feel the muscles in your core tightening, your orgasm building with every stroke. Joe's grip on your hips grew fiercer, his movements punctuated by the slap of your bodies meeting. The head of his cock nudged your g-spot with precision, sending sparks through your body.
"Look at me," Joe repeated, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down your spine. You did as you were told, your eyes connecting in a silent agreement that this was more than just a casual fling. There was something deeper, something raw and primal that bound you two together in this moment.
The room seemed to spin around you as Joe's thrusts grew more erratic. You could feel his cock swelling inside you, the promise of his climax imminent. You leaned back, your breasts bouncing with each thrust as you threw your head back, your mouth open in a silent scream of pleasure.
"Fuck, yes," you gasped, your eyes fluttering shut. "I'm gonna cum again." The words were barely out of your mouth before you felt the warmth of Joe's release fill you up. He groaned, his hips bucking against you, his orgasm intense and powerful. Tee watched, his hand still around his cock, stroking slowly as he took in the sight of two of his close friends, lost in their shared passion.
Your body shuddered as the waves of pleasure washed over you, your hands slotting over Joe's as he trailed a hand up to squeeze at the sides of your neck, constricting your airways deliciously. Joe's cock continued to pulse inside you, painting your insides with his seed as your walls fluttered around him. The heady scent of sex filled the air, intoxicating and overwhelming. You felt Joe's grip on your hips ease, his breathing slowing as he pulled out.
Tee's eyes never left yours, his hand still moving languidly on his shaft. He looked up at Joe, a silent question in his gaze. Joe nodded, a smirk playing on his lips, and Tee moved in closer, his hand reaching for your chin. He turned your face to him, and you felt his kiss, soft and gentle, almost tender in contrast to the fiery passion you had just shared with Joe. It sent a refreshing wave of serenity over you, and you melted into it, your body still quivering from the aftershocks of your climax.
"You good?" Tee asked softly, his thumb brushing over your lower lip. You nodded, your eyes flicking from Tee to Joe and back again, the gravity of what you had just done settling in. The room was quiet except for your synchronized breathing, and you could feel their eyes on you, watching your every move, every reaction, every twitch of your relaxing muscles.
You felt Joe's weight shift away from you, retreating to the bathroom to grab some washcloths. When he returned, he tossed one to Tee and used the other one to wipe you down gently, his touch surprisingly tender. You looked down at the mess you'd made off the bed, a mix of cum and sweat, and felt a strange sense of pride. These were two of the most eligible bachelors in the NFL, and here they were, sharing you like a treasure.
Your trio lay in a tangled heap of limbs, your breaths syncing as you all came down from the high of your shared experience. The tension of earlier was gone, replaced by a warm, contented silence. You felt a sense of belonging you hadn't known in a long time as Joe's hand trailed lazily across your back and Tee's arm draped over your waist. You were a unit now, bound by a secret that only the three of you knew.
As the reality of what had just transpired began to sink in, you couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement and a hint of nervousness. You looked between them, two men you had known for years, two men you had never thought of in this way until tonight.
"What the hell just happened?" you murmured, a giggle bubbling up from your chest.
Joe leaned in, his expression a mix of satisfaction and amusement. "I think we just had the best sex of our lives," he said, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine. Tee's eyes twinkled with playfulness as he nodded in agreement. "All because of you, baby," he added, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.
You couldn't help the scoff that escaped your lips as the teammates reached over your body to dap each other up in shared accomplishment. A "My man," slipped through the quiet from Tee's lips, his voice still hoarse from his orgasm. The sight of the two men celebrating their supposed victory, their friendship so clear even in the most intimate of moments, filled you with a strange sense of comfort.
"So, you two wanna explain why you're so good at this?" you teased, poking Joe in the ribs, the blonde squirming at your touch. "It's like you've practiced."
Joe's smirk grew wider. "I think this is pretty close to what we do on the field, you know? That QB-WR connection? We've got it down." His eyes twinkled as he leaned in closer to you. "We just knew what we wanted." His hand traveled down your side, sending a fresh wave of tingles across your skin.
"Once we figured out we both had feelings for you, we figured we could share," Tee whispered, his breath hot against your ear. "You're too much for just one of us to handle anyway." He chuckled, his hand sliding down your thigh. "It doesn't hurt that we make a pretty good team."
"And what would you two have done if I said no?" you asked, your voice revealing a hint of a challenge. You couldn't help the smirk that tugged at your lips as you watched the two men exchange glances, the unspoken communication between them almost comical in its synchronicity.
"I'd fuckin' kill him, he talked me into it," Tee said with a chuckle, reaching over you playfully jostle Joe. "But for real, we knew you'd be down."
Joe's expression grew serious. "We respect you too much to push you into anything." He brushed a lock of hair from your face. "We just wanted to be honest. Let you know how we feel."
You searched their faces, the gravity of their words sinking in. "I appreciate that," you said softly. "But what now? This isn't exactly something you tell people at work when they ask about your weekend."
Joe nodded. "We know. That's why it's just between us. What happens in this room, stays in this room." His thumb traced circles on your lower back, sending shivers up your spine. "But if you're into it, we could keep this going."
Tee leaned in, his voice a gentle rumble against your skin. "Just something casual. No strings, no drama. Just something between us three. We got each other's backs, always."
Your heart raced at the thought. It was risky, especially with your career in and around the league. But the connection you felt with Joe and Tee was undeniable, a potent cocktail of attraction and friendship that you hadn't experienced before. The thrill of secrecy only added to the allure.
"Okay," you said, your voice a hesitant whisper. "But only if we're all clear on the rules. No one outside this room can ever know. Ever."
Joe and Tee nodded solemnly, their eyes locked on yours. "You got it," Joe said, his thumb brushing over your plump lower lip. "Our lips are sealed."
This was fucking insane.
#&. cassie writes.#joe burrow x reader#joe burrow fanfic#joe burrow imagine#joe burrow smut#joe burrow#joe burrow fan fic#joe burrow bengals#tee higgins x reader#tee higgins smut#tee higgins imagine#tee higgins fic#tee higgins#cincinnati bengals#bengals#cincinnati football#black!fem!reader#x black fem reader#black!reader#black!oc#x black reader
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LATE-NIGHT CALLS ─── JOE BURROW
request: "I feel like Joe would always insist on calling you after every game even the late ones. Even if it’s just a sleepy, half-coherent conversation he refuses to go to bed without hearing your voice"
Joe's post-game ritual has always been the same: shake hands, hit the showers, face the press, and head home. But since the two of you started dating, he added a new step—one he never skips. No matter the hour, no matter how late the game runs or how exhausted he is from the rush of adrenaline and the strain of the field, he calls. Even if it’s the kind of late that makes your voice thick with sleep and your words slur together, he’ll still dial your number, waiting for the soft click of your sleepy “Hello?” on the other end.
You used to worry about his exhaustion, insisting he could wait until morning, but Joe’s stubbornness won out. It’s his way of winding down, he says, the easiest way to let the adrenaline taper off—to hear you, half-awake and warm under your blankets, murmuring about your day or teasing him for that one pass he wishes he’d thrown differently.
Tonight, the call comes later than usual, your phone buzzing on the nightstand as you squint at the clock—well past midnight. You know the routine by now, though. His name glows on the screen, and you don’t hesitate to answer, even if you’re barely awake yourself. Because somehow, even in those moments of barely-there conversation, there’s something grounding, something steady in the sound of his voice—low and sleepy and comfortable.
The phone buzzes again, and you let out a small sigh, rolling over in the sheets that are tangled around your legs. It’s late—way too late for anyone but him. You fumble for the phone, knocking your book off the nightstand in the process, and finally manage to answer on the last ring.
“Hey,” you say, voice thick with sleep, barely more than a mumble. Your eyes are still closed, and you can almost hear the smile in his voice before he even speaks.
“Hey,” he says, sounding tired but happy. There’s a warmth in his voice that makes you want to sink deeper into the blankets, your body relaxing even as you struggle to stay awake. You hear a faint rustling on his end of the line, the sound of him settling into whatever hotel bed or quiet corner he’s managed to find for this call.
“How’d it go?” you ask, even though you watched the whole game with half your attention, laptop open on your lap as you listened to the announcers shout his name. You already know he won. You can tell just by the way he’s breathing—steady and content, like the weight of the world isn’t pressing on his shoulders anymore.
“We got the win,” he says, and you can practically picture the satisfied grin tugging at his lips. “Defense pulled through. Felt good. Tired, though.” There’s a pause, just long enough for you to hear the creak of the bed as he stretches out, and you imagine him there, hair still damp from the shower, pillow propped against the headboard, eyes half-lidded and heavy.
“You sound tired,” you say, letting your own eyes drift shut again, his voice washing over you like a lullaby. He always sounds different after a game—softer, looser, the careful edges he keeps in place during the day falling away in the quiet of the night.
“Yeah,” he admits, a low chuckle humming in his throat. “Long night. But I’m good. Needed to call you first.” He says it like a fact, like calling you is as essential as breathing, and it makes something warm settle in your chest, even as you struggle to fight off sleep.
You know what he looks like right now—can see him so clearly it’s almost like you’re there. His face is flushed from the game, the last traces of exertion still lingering in his expression, and he’s got that soft, worn-out smile you only see when he’s alone with you. He’s probably half-reclined on some too-firm hotel bed, still wearing sweats and the hoodie he threw on over his jersey. You can picture the way his hand would brush over his face, rubbing at tired eyes, his fingers trailing down to the scruff along his jaw. He’s handsome in a way that doesn’t need effort, like he forgets sometimes that anyone’s looking.
“What’d you eat?” you ask, knowing he probably hasn’t had a proper meal yet. There’s a muffled sound, and you can almost see him shrug.
“Grabbed a sandwich at the stadium,” he says. “You know, the usual. But I’m not really hungry.” His voice is softer now, like he’s already sinking into the comfort of the call, the post-game rush fading away. There’s a beat of silence where neither of you say anything, just the quiet hum of the line connecting you, stretching across the miles.
His breathing evens out, and you know he’s lying back now, probably letting his eyes drift shut the way you are, letting the night pull him under. This is the quietest part of the day, the only time where everything seems to slow down, where it’s just you and him, your voices mingling in the spaces between words.
“Did you see the game?” he asks suddenly, and there’s a hint of teasing there, like he already knows the answer. He’s always known when you’re watching—can sense it in some unspoken way, even when you’re not at the stadium, cheering him on in person. You hum, the sound halfway between agreement and a sleepy sigh.
“Of course I did,” you say. “Saw that touchdown, too. You looked good out there.”
He chuckles, the sound low and deep, a bit self-conscious but pleased. “You think so?” he asks, his tone playful but with that slight, genuine curiosity you’ve come to love—like he still isn’t sure how you see him, even after all this time.
“Always,” you reply, and it’s true. Even when he’s a mess, jersey streaked with mud, hair wild from the helmet, he’s yours. There’s something honest about him on the field, something raw that you can’t help but admire. He doesn’t play with swagger—he plays with determination, with a kind of quiet, relentless grit that makes your chest tighten with pride.
“Wish you were here,” he murmurs, and there’s a softness to the words, a longing that cuts through the distance between you. You can hear the weight of it, the way he doesn’t mean for it to sound so heavy, but it does anyway.
“Me too,” you admit, turning onto your side, pressing the phone closer to your ear. You know he’s in some hotel room halfway across the country, the curtains drawn against the city lights, the room probably too cold for comfort.
And you’re here, in your own bed, miles apart but tethered by this line, by his voice, by the quiet spaces between breaths that are filled with the things neither of you say out loud.
It’s moments like this that make the distance feel bearable, moments where the miles don’t matter because it’s just you and him, lingering in the quiet of the night, holding on to the sound of each other’s voice like a promise.
“Get some sleep, Joey,” you say softly, knowing he won’t listen, that he’ll keep talking until he’s sure you’re drifting off, that he won’t hang up until he’s heard you yawn, heard the way your voice gets softer and softer until you can’t keep your eyes open any longer.
“Not yet,” he says, voice a bit firmer now, a smile tugging at the edges. “Just a few more minutes.”
You don’t argue, just let him fill the silence with the sound of his breath, the occasional murmur about a play or a moment you’d already forgotten, listening to the way his voice dips and slows, lulling you back to the edge of sleep. It’s the sound of home, you think, this quiet, late-night ritual that belongs only to the two of you—a secret shared in the dark, a comfort that’s become as essential as the game itself.
He keeps talking, his voice a low, steady hum, and you let yourself drift, knowing he’ll be there, knowing he won’t let you go until you’ve slipped back into the warmth of your dreams, his voice still echoing in the back of your mind long after you’ve hung up.
↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !
↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡
#nfl fic#nfl players#nfl lb#nfl football#joeyb#cincinnati bengals#joe burrow bengals#joe burrow fan fic#joe burrow imagine#joe burrow x reader#joe burrow smut#joe burrow x you#joe burrow x oc#joe burrow x y/n#joe burrow
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Celtic football fans raised the Palestinian flag, showcasing their solidarity with Palestine during last night’s Champions League match at Celtic Park.
#celtic#football fans#football#soccer#videos#video#champions league#palestine#gaza#rafah#free palestine#freepalastine🇵🇸#ausgov#politas#auspol#tasgov#taspol#australia#fuck neoliberals#neoliberal capitalism#anthony albanese#albanese government#save palestine#palestinian genocide#i stand with palestine#all eyes on palestine#palestine genocide#gaza genocide#gaza strip#free gaza
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Jude being clingy and wanting reader to hold him
jude bellingham x reader
clingy
“jude please…i gotta do a lot of things today” you said trying to stand up from the bed but jude’s hands wouldn’t leave your body.
“no…” he mumbled into your neck.
“jude…” you almost begged him.
“five more minutes please…then i’ll let you go” he whispered half asleep and you knew you couldn’t say no to that.
“okay…just five more minutes…” and of course, five more minutes turned into an hour as you fell asleep once again. you almost ended up sleeping all morning and when you woke up again you almost had a heart attack seeing how late it was.
you violently moved jude’s body away from yours and you stood up.
you heard jude groaning but you didn’t care.
the house was a mess as you and jude just came back from a weekend in greece and you left your suitcases all over the living room. you needed to buy some food because you had only a few things left, you needed to go to the post office to send a few packages and you needed to clean the house a little and of course, waking up almost at lunch time didn’t make it easy for you to do all of that.
“come back to bed…” jude slightly opened his eyes when he heard noises coming from the bathroom.
“nope! now you get up and you help me with the house…first of all take your luggage away from the living room cause i have to wash the floor” you said exiting the bathroom.
“later…i’m tired…and you should come back to bed with me, i wanna cuddle” he gave you his puppy look and you almost came back to bed, almost.
jude got up too when he saw you leaving the bedroom and he followed you like a puppy. he moved his luggage back to the bedroom but he stayed with you the whole time you cleaned the floor, he watched every movement you made.
he watched as you unpacked your clothes and put them in the washing machine. he didn’t leave your side when you were cooking lunch for the two of you and he even helped you setting the table.
but once he was done, his hands came back to your waist as he laid his head in the crook of your neck.
“jude…”
“you smell good” he said leaving a soft kiss to your neck.
“nah…it’s probably the food” you joked.
you both ate together but the moment you stood up to clean the dishes, jude did it first and ran to the sink.
“you know it’s not a challenge right…” you teased him.
“i know but when the dishes are done we can cuddle on the couch so i want to do them quickly…” he said giving you the puppy eyes once again.
“we have to go buy some food at the market” you told him but he said no.
“we can go tomorrow and take out tonight…please” he begged you.
so when the dishes were done, jude practically grabbed and threw you on the couch.
“hold me please…” he whispered as he laid his head over your stomach. it wasn’t really often that jude would be clingy like that but everything he searched for your warmth you couldn’t help but melt.
#football imagine#football x reader#football fan#football one shot#football headcanon#football x you#football fluff#football story#jude bellingham imagine#jude bellingham#jude bellingham x you#jude bellingham x reader#jude bellingham imagines#jude bellingham oneshot#jude bellingham x y/n#jude bellingham drabble#jude bellingham one shot#jude bellingham smut#jude bellingham angst#jude bellingham fluff
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Sometimes I want to bring Morrigan but then I remember I play as a face-tanking rogue and I bring Wynne. Warden Cousland, Morrigan, Wynne / Dragon Age Origins (c) Bioware
#dragon age#dragon age fan art#comic#morrigan#warden cousland#healer#bioware#dao#dragon age origins#hero of ferelden#cousland#wynne#I'm back. I guess.#I did not notice at first but apparently I took a break from tumblr. I've already had several breakdowns over the dashboard.#(turns out I was on the 'for you' tab rather than the 'following' tab. the theme had changed as well. absolutely insufferable.)#I've felt really unconnected for a while but it actually feels better now? as if my tumblr mutuals was the missing link.#very healthy and hot of me ngl#so. I had a two week holiday this year and they were instantly slurped up. it went so fast!#there was this big football thing the week before my holiday - basically teams of teens come from all around the world to play etc.#I heard a girl tell her teammates that 'I'd love to travel on this bus every morning; happy people all around you; just add some music...'#she was also very excited when the bridge opened. the 'happy people' around her sighed bitterly and leaned back for a ten minute wait.#it is thankfully over now. the bus home is no longer stuffed full of football teams. but it's a fun experience for the players etc etc etc#well. in other thrilling news I went to spy on our sister shops during my time off. to see what they do differently. maybe steal some ideas#one store was like an instagram post with fancy teacups and stylish outfits. who knew a second-hand store could be so boring.#the other was like a man-cave with furniture and a passively-aggressive note by the toys stating that 'if u break it u pay. idiot. tnx<3'.#the man-cave was my favourite :)#rant over now! take care and bye etc!
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Navigating
Note - happy New Year’s Eve babies 🩷 my lasts fic of 2024 can you believe it? This was meant to be a blurb I’ve ended up with over 13k word and if that’s doesn’t sum up my 2024 then I don’t know what will. Love you guys sm and feedback would be appreciated as always 😘🩷
Pairing - Mason Mount × Reader
Word count - 13.3k
Warnings - fluffy
Movie nights were becoming somewhat of a monthly tradition at your best friend Libby’s house, and whilst the group had grown in size a little bit lately, it was still a highlight of your week to go and spend time with your people.
Most of the people here you went to school with, however funnily enough you didn't really become that close with them until you’d left school. It was your best friend Libby who was more friendly with them as they shared a lot of classes together but after a few nights out and mini holidays you liked to think of them as your friends too. The group only becoming closer when Libby finally got together with Aaron, a boy who’d been in her history class, who she’d always had a crush on and now you all hung out as often as you could.
The group grew even more when a few of the boys got girlfriends of their own as well as the girls inviting along their boyfriends until there was around 15 or so of you.
Unfortunately for you, you were one of the permanently single members of the gang. You didn’t mind it so much as you were quite happy waiting for Mr Right to come along at the perfect time but when Libby and Aaron were all over each other at all hours of the day it was hard not to feel a little left out.
They say opposites attract and Libby was everything you weren’t. She was fun, energetic and loved having everyone round her’s to entertain where as you just liked to show up and eat the snacks. Her and Aaron were as solid and a rock yet you could barely look at a boy and as new members were added every so often you never had anyone to bring with you.
‘You know what would be fun? Secret Santa’ Libby announced to the room as everyone was taking their seats. Her eyes sparkling with pure joy as she clapped her hands together excitedly but you were just hoping everyone else in the room wasn’t as into it as she was.
Whilst you didn’t hate the idea you also knew you didn’t know everyone here that well and the idea of having to buy for some of the boys in the group filled you with dread. There were some other single girls mixed in and a few single guys but you always made sure you were with Libby when you hung out and as much as you could make nervous small talk sometimes, the thought of picking a gift for some of these people filled you with dread.
‘We won’t be able to see each other at Christmas though, is there any point?’ You asked quietly, trying to make yourself as invisible as possible like always but you could see a few of the others who were in earshot around you nod in agreement.
‘We can just extend the deadline then, we’ll all be at Masons for new years right? We can just do it then it won’t make any difference’ she shrugged and you could see Aaron nodding along in agreement.
‘I’m in’ he told her, looking round to ask the rest of the guys who all seemed to be now nodding along and you knew there was no way you could back out of it now.
‘Okay but can we set a price limit? We don’t need everyone going big and I end up getting someone a stapler’ you mumbled, hearing a few chuckles from across the room and when you looked up some of the boys that had been listening in were smiling at you.
‘Why would you get someone a stapler?’ Libby asked, snapping your gaze away from them but you just shrugged. Your cheeks burning as everyone’s attention was on you and you didn’t know how to act now.
‘They come in handy sometimes’ you whispered, playing with your fingers in your lap in hopes someone would take over and say something else and thankfully Libby read your mind and went into presentation mode.
‘Okay so how about £20? It’s only got to be something small and silly’ she asked the group and thankfully everyone was nodding. ‘Amazing! I’ll write everyone’s name down and we can pick them out of a hat’
The only hat she could find was the one currently on Aaron’s head and as he handed it over to her you sat and looked around the group to figure out who’s name you’d want and not want to pick out but before you knew it she’d passed the hat to you and you’d picked out the first name.
You had to wait before you could read it though, her telling everyone to wait until everyone had a name so you could open them together but the tiny piece of paper was hot in your hand. You knew it was just a silly secret Santa but you didn’t want to make an idiot out of yourself in front of all these people or piss someone off by getting them something they hated.
‘Okay open!’ Libby suddenly called, everyone scrambling to open their notes and you took a big gulp before undoing yours.
Shit.
Mason was at the bottom of your list of people you wanted to pick, that was for sure. What do you buy the man that has everything?
Mason was probably the person you knew the least. He was fairly new to the group as he’d only moved up here a short while ago. The boys had spoken about him frequently as they told you they used to play against him when they were in the united academy but unfortunately none of them made it as far as he had. You’d always figured they were pulling your leg but after he’d moved up and Aaron sent a picture of all the boys in a group call playing fifa you had to concede that they were telling the truth.
You didn’t meet him until six months later, him joining everyone for a movie night at Libby's house and you still weren’t exactly sure why someone like him wanted to hang around with a bunch of nobodies like you lot but he seemed friendly enough and all the boys loved having him around. It also helped that he was easy on the eye but you kept to yourself just like always but you always made sure to say hello to each other if nothing else. From what you could see from his interactions with the boys, he was funny and easy going and had gotten you into some pretty cool parties in the last few months but you’d never had much of a proper conversation with him.
That was about to change soon though, excusing yourself into the kitchen so you could grab a drink but since so many people were here tonight Libby’s fridge had been basically cleared apart from a can or two right towards the back. Unfortunately for you they were just out of your reach and you huffed in annoyance as you cursed her for getting such a ridiculously tall fridge.
‘Would you like me to get that for you?’ You suddenly heard from behind you. Turning to the boy that had been plaguing your thoughts for the last 20 minutes for all the wrong reasons but right now you were happy to see him.
‘Please’ you smiled. Letting Mason grab the last two remaining cans before he passed you one over and you sent him an appreciative smile. ‘Thank you. Maybe you can spread the word to whoever’s got me for secret Santa that I could do with a stepladder’ you joked. Rolling your eyes a bit so you could make it obvious you were being silly but he just smiled back at you kindly.
‘Well at least you’ve got ideas, I dread to think what the person that got me is thinking’ he laughed. ‘I was gonna back out, you know cause I don’t know everyone super well, but Libby was looking at me like she’d rip my head off’
‘Oh trust me, I’ve been on the receiving end of that look many times and I know it's not fun’ you sympathised. ‘Are you happy with who you picked?’
‘Not sure happy is the right word, more confused I’d say but I think I’d feel the same with whoever I got. What about you?’
‘Pretty much the same’ you laughed. It suddenly hitting you how easy you were finding it to talk to him since you’d barely spoken before. You wanted to talk to him more but the sound of everyone laughing in the living room snapped you both out of your little bubble and he was nodding back towards there.
‘Shall we go back? If I miss too much I’ll never be able to get back into it what with my short attention span’ he chuckled and you nodded thinking the same. Following him back into the living room so you could take your place back next to Libby as he took his seat a few spaces down in between two of the other boys.
‘Something you want to tell me?’ Libby whispered. Leaning her head down so she could speak quietly in your ear but you were confused as to what she was going on about.
‘What?’
‘You and Mason? You were both gone ages’ she winked but you just frowned back at her.
‘Don’t do that’ you huffed, watching her smile smugly at you but it soon dropped when she realised you weren’t happy with her teasing. Something she tended to do often and even though she probably didn't mean any harm it still annoyed you. Any boy you so much as looked at she had something to say to you and that teasing glint in her eye was driving you insane.
‘Do what?’
‘Try and make something out of nothing. He just helped me reach a drink that’s all’ you huffed. Crossing your arms as you sunk back into the seat and you knew that Libby realised she’d annoyed you as she offered you her bag of M&M’s with a sorry smile.
You tried to ignore what she’d said, knowing she didn’t mean anything by it but now she’d said it you couldn’t concentrate on the movie as Mason was filling your thoughts. Even sneaking a little glance over at him every so often but he was fully engrossed in the movie and you felt stupid that one little comment from her was making you act like this.
That was until around half an hour later when you seemingly let your eyes wander over to where he was sitting again and you found him looking back at you already. A soft smile playing on his lips as he realised he’d been caught but you just smiled back before looking back to the tv as you felt your cheeks burn.
You didn’t get to speak to him anymore that night, having to rush home so you could get ready for work the next day but that didn’t mean he left your thoughts. Frantically thinking about what you could possibly get him that wasn’t boring or cliche but you were coming up blank. You didn’t want to embarrass yourself in front of him and everyone else by getting him something rubbish and even though this whole thing was meant to be fun you were feeling more stressed than ever.
Soon enough it was Friday though and you managed to get out of work early. Getting off the train a stop early so you could take a wander through the park whilst it was still light outside always made you feel ten times better and you knew your favourite little secret coffee shop would still be open at this time so you headed there first. The sound of leaves crunching with every step was filling you with joy but the sudden sound of a big dog barking made you jump out of your skin moments after.
The noise went as quickly as it came, hearing whoever the dog's owner was calming them down pretty quickly but you could tell they were heading your way and you froze. You loved dogs, but big ones always frightened you at first and when you looked over to your right where the source of the noise was coming from, you saw a huge German shepherd with the fluffiest ears you’d ever seen.
‘Y/n? Is that you?’
‘Mason?’ You questioned. Watching the person come more into view and your suspicions were confirmed straight away as he greated you with his signature wide smile.
‘You alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost’ he joked so you straightening yourself up and tried to look like you hadn’t nearly peed your pants.
‘Oh no, sorry I’m fine’ you smiled as your eyes averted to the huge dog sitting obediently next to him. ‘Who’s this?’
‘This is Ace’ he grinned. ‘Sorry if he was really loud a second ago, he saw a squirrel and freaked out’
‘That’s okay’ you smiled. Reaching out to scratch his head and thankfully enough he seemed pretty placid now. ‘Mase and Ace, huh? You sound like a crime fighting duo’
‘Well if he’s gonna shit himself at the sight of a squirrel I don’t see that ending very well’ he joked and you had to cover your mouth to hold in your giggles ‘What are you doing here at this time?’
‘Oh I finished work a bit early so I was just cutting through here to get a coffee’ you explained and a look of confusion took over his face.
‘Where from? I’ve been gasping for about half an hour’
‘It’s just round the corner, there’s a little coffee shop just in the woods’ you told him and before you knew it the next sentence was tumbling from your lips. ‘You fancy coming with me?’
‘Oh um- yeah sure’ he agreed, nodding excitedly and with that he followed you down the path and in the direction you were going in before he got there.
You made small talk as you walked to the cafe. A small hidden spot in the woods that you wouldn’t know was there unless you’d been shown but it was you who’d stumbled across it one day and was a secret you’d hadn't shared with anyone until now.
‘This is cute’ he noted as you approached and you had to agree with him. The little wooden hut looked like something out of one of those hallmark Christmas movies and it was your favourite spot for a little pick me up.
‘Yeah, well this stays between us’ you winked and he held his hand over his heart as if to promise it would. ‘Why don’t you grab a bench, I can run inside and get them’ you smiled. ‘What would you like?’
‘Oh, uh latte please but let me-
‘I know what you’re about to say, and the answer is no’ you smiled. Watching him roll his eyes before pulling Ace over to a picnic bench and you ran inside to grab your coffees and a few sweet treats
You were just gathering everything together when it suddenly hit you that this could be incredibly awkward. You didn’t know Mason and you weren’t good at small talk so you were beginning to wonder why you’d offered to bring him here in the first place. In the end you figured you could use this to your advantage and see if you could learn anything about him in order to get him something for secret Santa and you rehearsed a few questions in your head as you walked back over.
‘I got us a few treats, you can have the first pick’
‘Oh thank you, you shouldn’t have’ he smiled, reaching for the brownie and you made a mental note that he was a chocolate fan. ‘So how come you got to leave work early?
‘Oh some weird early Christmas thing they do, they let you choose if you want to work the morning or the afternoon and I chose morning. Why anyone would would pick the afternoon is beyond me’
‘This is so embarrassing, but I don't actually think I know what you do for work’ he laughed awkwardly and even though you pretend like you were offended there probably was no way of him knowing as you’d never spoken to him about it before
So you went on a bit of a deep dive and explained to him the wonderful world of data analysing and that you mostly worked with spreadsheets all day. You weren’t sure if he seemed impressed or thought you were mental but he was listening intently and you thought it was nice he was taking such an interest. This wasn’t going how you’d planned though as you were meant to be finding out more about him and so far all you’d worked out was his coffee of choice was a latte and he likes brownies.
You were having a nice time though, laughing away as you chatted easily but there was something about coffee that always made you overheat. No matter if it was freezing outside like right now or if you were just at home in the warm anyway, you always felt the same and you could feel the familiar heat traveling up your neck.
Mason was still asking you questions and taking quite a keen interest in what you did so you carried on speaking as you shrugged off your coat and placed your scarf next to you. This did mean you were only left in a t shirt but the cool breeze felt like heaven against your hot skin.
You were halfway through your sentence when you realised Mason wasn’t listening to you. Looking up to see his eyes fixated on your chest as he looked there intently and you could feel your arms crossing over your body to protect yourself from his gaze.
His eyes were back on your face immediately. Cheeks burning as he realised what you must have thought he was doing and it was like he didn’t know what to say as he fought to get his words out.
‘I’m s-sorry, I was just trying to read what that said’ he stuttered. Pointing to the words on your shirt that were just above your heart. ‘I promise I’m not being weird’
‘It’s okay’ you laughed, uncrossing your arms as you both giggled awkwardly and you sat with your hands in your lap so you could nervously play with your fingers under the table.
‘What does it mean?’ He whispered after a second and you could feel yourself internally cringing at having to speak about something like this to someone when you usually kept it so private.
‘It’s just some lyrics’ you shrugged, hoping he’d move on from it but unfortunately he was intent on finding out more.
‘Oh I see, what song is it?’ He asked and you cast your eyes over the lyrics once more.
But when our fingers touch, I feel my way back home
‘Navigating, twenty one pilots’
‘Ah I’ve heard of them, can’t say I’ve ever listened to them before though’ he told you before taking a sip of his coffee. ‘You like them?
‘Yeah’
‘Sorry, stupid question’ he laughed, he cheeks turning a healthy shade of pink but you just smiled back as it was something you would have probably asked him if you were the one grilling him. ’Have you ever seen them live?’
‘No, like I’d love to but I’ve not really got anyone to go with plus crowds aren’t really my thing and i probably wouldn’t even be able to afford it’
‘Really? Why wouldn’t you take Libby?’ He asked but you just shrugged as that was a bit of a sore subject for you.
‘Not her type of thing’
‘What about your boyfriend?’ He asked quietly. His eyes avoiding yours as he looked to the table and you wondered if he was asking this sneakily to figure you out or just genuinely didn’t know.
‘One has to have a boyfriend in order to take one somewhere’ you told him but he kept his head down as he nodded.
‘I see’
You didn’t have a chance to reply, a little boy and his dad coming over looking all apologetic and asking for a picture so you offered to hold Ace’s lead whilst he spoke with them for a bit and it suddenly hit you in the face that this wasn’t just your sort of friend you were having a quick coffee with. This was Mason Mount.
‘Listen, as much as I’d love to stay, I need to head home. I’m off for an away game tomorrow and I need to pack’ he smiled and even though you didn’t know him all that well you knew he’d been out for a while after an injury and this would be his first time being back in the squad again.
‘Oh cool, who are you playing?’
‘Ipswich’
‘Ah okay, well make sure you take a hat, I’ve heard it’s supposed to be freezing tomorrow and you don’t want your ears to get cold’ you told him. Mentally face palming yourself and wondering why you’d said that but he just smiled at you warmly.
‘I will’ he chuckled. ‘Do you want me to grab you another coffee before I go?’
‘I’m fine, I promise’ you reassured him and his kind eyes made your tummy flip as he sent a smile your way.
‘Well I’ll get the next one then’ he chuckled before bidding you goodbye and leaving you to finish off your drink.
You were putting everything in the bin when you realised Mason had forgotten something. Noticing the bottle that was for ace still sat on his chair and you didn’t know what to do.
You had Masons number, not that you’d ever texted him before but he was part of the movie night group chat so it wouldn't take that much for you to grab his number and text him. You weren’t sure how he’d react though and wondered if he’d be mad at you for not asking permission first but in the end you talked yourself round and sent him a quick text letting him know you had it.
You felt a weight lifted knowing he wasn’t mad at you and the little kiss at the end made your face flush. It was only one little letter but it was in the mind for the rest of the night to the point where you wondered why. Mason was was in a whole different league to you but you couldn’t deny you that you’d had a good time sitting and talking with him that afternoon.
You thought that might be the end of your private conversations with Mason but the next morning you woke up to see a notification from him on your phone and you felt your pulse quicken. Opening it as quickly as you could in your half asleep state and the sight of his face made you smile.
You’d never seen a game of football in your life but you made sure to keep an eye on the score when he was playing but when you saw it came to draw you wondered if you should send him a teasing text about it’s because he’s not worn a hat. In the end you decided against it as you didn’t want to overstep the line or even worse get ignored.
It was him that texted you next a day later as you were coming home from work and when you saw his name flash up on screen after it buzzed in your hand it was like a wave of excitement and anticipation rolled through you.
You were almost home so you quickly nipped into Sainsburys to grab everything you needed whilst Mason texted you his address. Offering to pick you up if he was too far but it was only a few bus stops away and there was one just pulling up as you left the shop. A short walk after you’d got off led you up a private road and when you were outside his drive all you could think about was how it looked like a castle.
You saw his little head moving in the front window as you walked up the path and soon enough he was opening the front door for you when you were about halfway there. His usual bright smile dressed on his face as he stood and waited for you and as you got near he stepped to the side and motioned for you to come in.
‘Here she is’ he beamed. ‘You know you didn’t need to do this, I would have come and got them’
‘I know, but I had Ace’s bottle too so I figured I’d grab that, and you’ve been traveling’ you told him as you stepped inside and a delicious feeling of warmth hit you immediately.
‘But you’ve been at work all day’
‘Yeah, sat on my arse’ you giggled and you followed after him as he lead you into the kitchen, offering you a drink whilst he popped his washing on and you couldn’t help but notice all the random assortment of things on his kitchen counter.
‘What’s all this?’ You asked, eyes taking over the random bits of paper, tickets and photos’
‘Oh just some bits I bought back. I always like to bring something back when I’ve been to an away game’
‘What do you do with it all?
‘It’s just in a big box right now. I’ve been meaning to organise it and stuff, you know so it’s easy to look back on, but I wouldn’t know where to start’
‘You should start scrapbooking’ you told him without even thinking but the short little laugh made your head snap up to look at him opposite you.
‘You what?’
‘Scrapbooking? I started doing it a few years ago with some of my old stuff from when I was a kid. It’s just a nice way of keeping it all together you know?’ You gulped, hoping you didn’t sound too ridiculous but he was nodding like he liked the idea so you didn’t feel too silly anymore. ‘And when I’ve been looking at mind numbing spreadsheets all day it’s nice to do something a little creative’
‘Do you have any pictures of yours?’ He asked, coming round to your side of the island so he could perch next to you and when his arm touched yours you felt yourself flush.
What’s happening to me? You questioned. Wondering if it was just being inside his house that was making you feel so hot and bothered but it didn’t help that his soft smile seemed to be melting your insides.
‘Not loads’ you gulped. Flicking through a few photos you’d taken of pages you were pretty proud of and he seemed fairly impressed. Asking you loads of questions about how you did it and what you used until your conversion moved to him asking about the memories you’d put in there.
‘You got dinner plans?’ He asked as his eyes looked up to the clock on his wall and you realised how late it was getting and you hadn’t had a thing since lunch.
‘No, I hadn’t thought that far ahead’ you laughed. ‘I’ll probably just pick something up on the way home’
‘Let me make you something, for saving my bacon’
‘Oh Mase, I-‘
‘Please? It’s the least I can do’ he told you but you still didn’t know if you should accept. ‘it’s just spag Bol, don’t worry I won’t kill you’
‘Okay’ you laughed. Smiling back at him just as wide as he had when you accepted his offer and he was quick to get up to make a start. Letting you help as he told you where things were that he needed but you also used it as an excuse to have a snoop around his kitchen.
‘Why do you have a million man united pens?’ You asked after a while. Your eyes catching the huge pile at the side by the fridge and you noticed the shy awkward look take over his face.
‘I always take one so I can sign stuff for the guys who wait outside but then I bring it home and forget to take it back with me again so I pick another one up and the cycle continues’ he huffed. ‘Help yourself if you want one’
You were surprised at how much of a good cook he was, asking if you could have the recipe but he let you know it was a Mount family secret and the only way to get it was to join. You knew it was just a joke but the idea made you blush and you knew you’d have to leave soon so you didn’t make a fool out of yourself. He offered to drop you but you knew he had an early training session so you told him you’d be fine on the bus as you didn’t live far. He wasn’t happy with this though and demanded he got you an uber so to avoid an argument you accepted.
It was on your way home you had a long hard think about what to get Mason for Christmas. So far he’d been asking you more questions than the other way around but from what you’d learnt tonight you wondered if getting him his own scrapbooking stuff would be a good gift. He’d told you he wanted to sort all his memories out and seemed really interested in what you’d done but you wondered if it was something he’d start himself or if he’d need a push.
Once you were in bed you made a start to find him the perfect scrapbook. In the end picking two as you couldn’t decide between the deep blue or the red and figured he might like to have both to keep both phases of his life separate. Everything else you figured you could grab from your usual stationary shop the next time you went as you could see the perfect stickers for him in your mind.
You kept away from talking to him until his next game. You knew he hadn’t started the game but you’d seen a lot of praise for him online and you couldn’t help but send him a quick message.
From that day onwards you kept in contact everyday, even if it was just a little good luck text before a game or evenings you’d spend the whole night talking. Your little fingers furiously tapping away at your screen to the point you didn’t want to say goodbye some nights and he never made you feel annoying or like you were a bother to him.
Your aim to try and find out more about him was working wonders as you were finding out new things every day. His favourite sweets, his favourite drink, his favourite holiday he’s ever been on. All now in your brain for future use but it was a week and a half later that you thought you’d learned something you didn’t want to.
You were at Libbys for a catch up, her and Aaron having taken a small trip the week before and she’d invited you over for some pizza and a catch up but you knew before you’d even started you should have done it at your house. Aaron was clearly online with all the boys playing one of their games and his cries were louder than you’d ever heard them. In the end you took it upon yourself to try and sort out the situation.
It seemed to do the trick and you and Libby were able to have a conversation in peace for the most part. Aaron reemerged around an hour and a half later to come and get a drink but he stopped by the sofa to check in on you both.
‘How’s your game?’ You asked and he smiled at the fact you’d taken an interest.
‘Yeah good, it’s just Mase and a few of the boys’ he shrugged. ‘Speaking of Mase, I’m 95% sure he’s got a girlfriend’
You weren’t sure why, but you felt your heart sink immediately. You enjoyed spending time with him lately and knowing he’d kept it from you stung a little bit. You kept your face as blank as possible though as Libby started to grill Aaron about it excitedly.
‘Why do you think that?’
‘He was texting someone as we were playing and you should have seen the smile on his face like that’s an I’m down bad for a girl smile’
‘I’ve never known Mason to even be talking to a girl the whole time we’ve known him’ she said, turning to look at you for some sort of agreement on your part but you just shrugged wishing you’d never asked.
‘Trust me, he talks to girls. He can get pretty much whoever he wants’ he shrugged, your heart now beating in your ears as you felt your skin flush. ‘This is different though, It's not a hookup smile it’s an i worship the ground you walk on type smile’
‘Is that how you smile when you think of me’ she smiled. Her hand on his thigh as he placed a kiss to her head and you felt like you were watching in on an intimate moment.
‘Always’ he whispered sinserly.
‘Ugh, you two make me sick’ you huffed, wanting to get up and leave them to it but you could see Aaron getting up to go so you stayed where you were.
‘Sorry squirt’ Aaron smiled, ruffling your hair as he passed by the back of you and you groaned as you got it back into place.
‘Anyway I won’t believe you until I meet this girl’ Libby called and you wished the pair of them would just drop it. You tummy swirling with sadness as you thought about him flirting with someone else and it took everything in you to try and seem unbothered.
‘I promise you, my spidey senses are always correct and I definitely think he’s got the eyes for someone. Maybe he’ll bring her to the next movie night if I can convince him?’
‘Ooo yes you should try’ she smiled, clapping her hands excitedly as you knew she loved entertaining for new people but you couldn’t think of anything worse than meeting Mason's new lady friend and having to act like it didn’t bother you.
‘Hey y/n? In case I don’t see you before you go, what’s your favourite chocolate?’ Aaron suddenly asked, turning back to you both just as he was about to leave and you were confused by the sudden random question.
‘Dairy milk, why?’
‘Mason was asking. He’s been asking a lot of questions about you now I come to think of it’ he mused but you wanted to move away from the topic as quickly as possible.
‘Oh… I’m sure it’s nothing’ you laughed. ‘Maybe he’s making a list of stuff he needs for new years?’
‘Oh yeah, could be’ he shrugged but you made sure to change the subject as quickly as you could so Libby didn’t ask anymore questions and put you on the spot.
It was less than five minutes later when Mason messaged you. A smug smile on your face as you read it over what he’d said but it wasn’t until you were on the way home and you reflected over the evening that it hit you what might be happening.
Why did you care? He was just a guy in your friendship group who was way out of your league and probably wouldn’t look twice at you anyway. You weren’t even sure if you could refer to him as a friend at this point as it was only over the last few weeks you’d grown somewhat closer so why did you care if he had a girlfriend?
Because you knew he didn’t look at you like he looked at everyone else. Because you knew he was bringing out a whole new side of you where you didn’t feel like a spare part or a burden and because his smile lit up a part of you you didn’t even know existed until now.
You never expected to have a crush on anyone at this point in your life, let alone Mason, and you had no idea what to do about it. The idea of pushing it down was appealing as the thought of him finding out was not on the top of your list of fun things to do and you knew it wouldn’t be that simple. You’d be spending more time with him soon enough and you didn’t want to act weird around him and scare him off so you figured you could just act like everything was normal and hopefully he’d be none the wiser in time for your crush to inevitably wear off.
You managed to keep things up until a few days later when it was movie night again. The last one of the year and you were really hoping you could spend some time with him beforehand as you’d be sat with Libby when the movie was on. Unfortunately for you he was nowhere to be seen and you knew Libby was looking at you weirdly as you constantly looked around the room.
‘Hey you’ you suddenly heard as you had your head buried in your phone, Mason's cheerful voice filling your ears and when you turned to see him you felt your heart thump. Trying to bite back a smile as he made his way over through the sea of everyone else and his boyish grin was making your tummy flutter.
‘Hey, you alright?’ You smiled back, trying not to let on too much about how happy you were to see him but he was smiling back at you just as widely and it was contagious.
‘Yeah good, training was a bit later today and it was tough so I’m knackered’
‘Well at least you can sit down for a bit now’ you offered as you pushed a drink you’d saved for him towards him and he gave you a grateful smile.
‘Speaking of sitting, will you come sit next to me for a sec? I wanna show you something’ he asked as he nodded towards the living and you followed him into his usual spot on the sofa. It was a few seats from where you usually sat but you figured you’d have time to move before the movie started. ‘What do you think?’ He asked as he passed you his phone and it took a second to realise what you were seeing. Laughing as you tried to speak and as you leant onto him he squeezed your thigh softly.
‘What’s this?’
‘I was talking to my tattoo artist the other day and he was asking about Ace. I mentioned you said we sound like a crime fighting duo and he sent me this yesterday morning’ he laughed, enlarging the hand drawn image of Mason and Ace dressed up like superheroes and you thought it was the best thing you’d ever seen.
‘This is incredible’ you laughed. ‘You should so get this tattooed somewhere’
‘Oh yeah?’ He winked. ‘I was thinking on my ribs? Like right under the champions league one’
‘Oh yeah, the perfect spot’ you teased. The pair of you chuckling away as you sat and spoke and just like always with Mason time seemed to pass you both by quickly.
The room had slowly started to fill up but you took no notice until the lights were being dimmed and you realised you weren’t sat next to Libby like always. Looking over to see her pouting at you but you felt too awkward to move now as everyone was sat down and you’d have to shuffle everyone up from their seats to be back with her. Not to mention you’d feel rude moving away from Mason.
‘You want a blanket, Mase?’ You suddenly heard from one of the boys across the room. Watching it catapult through the air but he caught it easily and when he unfolded it and laid it over the both of your laps you felt your cheeks burn.
‘You okay to share?’ He asked quietly. A slight quiver of shyness in his voice but you figured you must have been hearing things. There was no reason he would ever need to be shy with you and you figured it must have just been him trying to keep quiet around everyone. ‘Have you um, have you got enough room?’ He questioned. Trying his best to turn himself into the corner of the sofa to make sure you had enough space but you were quite happy being pressed up against him so you just nodded and let him lay his arm across the back of the sofa behind you.
You tried your best to focus on the movie in front of you but Mason was fidgeting a bit. You wondered if it was just him and that he was always like this but when you looked up to his face you could see he was trying to fight himself from falling asleep. He’d told you earlier it was a pretty brutal training session and clearly he was paying for it now but he looks so awkward and uncomfortable you weren’t sure if you should wake him up.
You went against it in the end, just manoeuvring him a little so he could rest his head on yours as you popped your head on his shoulder and you couldn’t contain your smile as he linked his arm through yours and hugged it to his chest.
You spent the next hour with him peacefully sleeping on you. His gentle snores and warm body almost sending you off to sleep yourself but you kept yourself awake and when the movie was over and the lights back on you felt him jolt awake.
‘Shit, was i asleep?’ He mumbled. Trying to look around the room to figure out where he was and you thought he looked adorable in his half awake state.
‘I think you were only awake for the first ten minutes’ you chuckled, watching his face contort in embarrassment but he had nothing to be embarrassed of at all.
‘Sorry if I crushed you’
‘You were surprisingly comfortable’ you whispered, looking up to see him smiling shyly at you but before either of you could speak Libby had come to stand in front of both of you and you were suddenly hyper aware of the fact you were both still under the blanket with his arms wrapped around yours.
‘Hey Mase? Aaron was sure you’d be bringing your new girlfriend tonight but instead you just stole mine’ she sneered and you felt yourself stiffen with awkwardness. Wondering what Mason would say or do but thankfully he just smiled back at her and held your arm a little tighter.
‘You’ve got Aaron’ he shrugged, trying to make out she was still fine but when she put her hands on her hips you knew she was more pissed off than she appeared to be.
‘But movie nights are our nights’
‘Well unfortunately you’ll have to learn to share’ he laughed. Letting you go before wrapping his arms around your shoulders from behind and pulling you back towards him like he was claiming you. You felt your cheeks burn at how he was acting with you but you couldn’t say you weren’t enjoying this side of him no matter how Libby was looking at you.
‘I didn’t even know you two spoke’
‘Well now you do’ he shrugged nonchalantly before unwrapping himself from you. ‘I wouldn’t worry, she’s only here for my spag bol recipe’ he joked but it went straight over Libby's head as she looked back at the pair of you blankly. ‘Anyway, I need to be getting off. I’ve got training early and I need to sort my washing out’
‘I need to go too, I’m on an early start tomorrow’ you told her but Mason grabbed your arm just as you were standing up.
‘I’ll drop you home, yeah?’ He offered but before you could reply there was a scoff beside you.
‘What the fuck is going on?’ she questioned but you didn’t have time to explain and right now you didn’t exactly want to.
‘I’ll text you, okay?’ You told her. Pulling her in for a quick hug before following Mason out the door and as soon as you were plugged into the seat you knew the questions were coming.
‘Libby is intense sometimes. I get the feeling she doesn’t like us talking’ Mason told you as he pulled away from the curb and you shrugged your shoulders in response. Libby has been your best friend since you were kids but she was a bit of a control freak and whilst she liked to know the ins and outs of everyone else’s business, she very rarely shared much of her own life unless you pushed hard.
‘She’ll be fine, I think she just feels out of the loop’
‘What loop would that be?’ He quizzed lightly but you didn’t have the guts to look at him right now.
‘Well we’ve never really spoken before, I can see why she might be a bit confused’
‘And you didn’t tell her we talk?’
‘No’ you gulped, fiddling with your fingers in your lap for some sort of distraction but the next thing you knew Mason had pried them apart with his own and held one to stop you fidgeting. A kind smile on his face as he continued to look ahead and drive but you were thankful he wasn’t looking at you as you now resembled a tomato and you figured you should keep talking so you didn’t spiral about what was going on right now. ‘I didn’t see the need to and I like keeping this between us. She keeps things from me all the time yet wants to know everything about me. I just liked things being a little private cause I know she likes to make a big deal out of everything, I hope that’s not weird’
‘Not at all, I like it’ he reassured you. Squeezing your hand softly before letting go and you missed his warmth immediately ‘So I guess the next time I’ll see you will be new years?’
You hadn't realised you’d pulled up outside your house already, too distracted by the way his hand felt in yours and when he turned to you in his seat you did the same to get a better look at him.
‘I guess so yeah’ you nodded sadly. ‘I hope you have a lovely Christmas, and good luck with all your games’
‘Thank you, you too’ he smiled before a look of uncertainty washed over his face. ‘Do you um… let me walk you to your door’
‘Oh don’t be silly’ you told him but he was already unplugging himself and reaching for his door handle.
‘No no, I want to’ he smiled and you didn’t want to fight him on it so you just got out and led the way. Turning to face him as you reached your front door and you were both looking at each other like you didn’t know what to say.
‘Do you want to come in or…’ you started but you knew when he popped his hands in his pockets that it was going to be a no.
‘Best not, I’ve got to be up early-‘
‘Oh sorry, of course’ you laughed but he just smiled back softly at you.
‘Don’t be silly’ he smiled, reaching for your arm and pulling you towards his body and before you knew it you were tucked against him as he wrapped his arms around you.
It was like all the noise in your brain stopped. A calmness falling over you as he held you to his chest and your whole body relaxed into his as you felt his body do the same. God he smells so good you thought as you took a deep breath and you couldn’t stop yourself from holding him a bit tighter. You hadn't had a hug like this in a while and it was like you could feel all the broken parts of you being filled up by him.
‘Thank you for letting me sleep on you earlier’ he whispered into your hair and all you wanted to do was melt into him more.
‘Anytime’ you laughed and when he started to pull back you did the same. Quickly saying goodnight to each other before he darted back to the car and you noticed he didn’t leave until he knew you were inside.
You weren’t expecting to hear from him over the next few days. It was a really important game coming up for him and all he’d done was tell you how excited he was to play but the game had barely started and you felt your heart drop.
You hadn't even seen what had happened, but the distraught look on his face as he sat on the pitch was like nothing you’d ever felt before. You wanted to run to him, to hold him like he’d held you a few nights ago and let him know it was okay and that you were there for him but you couldn’t. You just started blankly at your screen as he walked off the pitch and down the tunnel.
You didn’t know what to do, if he wanted to hear from you or anyone at all, but in the end you sent him a text. Even if he didn’t reply you still wanted him to know you were there for him no matter what and later on that night before bed his name was flashing up on your screen.
Not exactly the reply you were hoping for but you understood. He was frustrated and hurt and probably wasn't in the mood for anyone or anything but the next day at around 4pm his name was flashing up again.
So he called you that night, and the night after you called him. Each night turning into one you’d spend on the phone with him for at least an hour but it always felt like five minutes. Letting Mason offload about how upset and disappointed he was with this fresh injury yet with each passing day you noticed him perk up a bit. Taking his mind off of everything and getting him excited for the holidays and it melted your heart to hear him talk about spending time with his family and getting to see all the little ones.
You figured Christmas Day he’d be too busy to talk but he text you in the evening asking for a chat and you loved listening to him talk about his day. Letting each other know what gifts you’d gotten and what you’d done until the excitement of the day had gotten too much for him and you heard his sleepy snores on the other end of the line.
If there was ever a time you wanted to crawl through the phone and be with him it would have been now as the thought of him sleeping all alone pulled on your heart strings. You wanted to hold him and stroke his hair and fall asleep right next to him but to you it was just a dream.
By the time New Year’s Eve had rolled around you’d spoken every day in between. You knew today would be different as you were actually getting to see him and you were nervous beyond belief but also filled with excitement at maybe getting to speak to him later. You knew he might be busy as it was his party but you were holding out hope that he could make time for you even just for a bit.
The plan was to get ready at Libby's house so you could get your drink on a bit early before you left and as soon as you were ready she was calling Aaron in to take pictures of the pair of you. She looked stunning all dressed up in a short sparkly number and you felt under dressed in comparison. Opting for a little black dress that was your trusty favourite as you just wanted to be comfortable tonight but now you were wondering if you should have worn something else.
‘Do you know if Masons, okay? You know after the injury? I'd hate to turn up and he doesn’t want company’ Libby asked Aaron as you all got your coats on and you listened intently to Aaron’s answer.
‘I’ll be honest baby, no one’s really heard from him since it happened. We’ve text him but he’s not said too much’ he shrugged but you made sure to keep quiet. Trying to keep the smile off your face at the fact he was seemingly only talking to you and you couldn’t help but feel a little smug about it.
You didn’t see Mason when you arrived, Aaron just barging his way in like he’d owned the place and after you’d shrugged your coats off you made your first stop in the dining room so you could drop your gifts onto the table before following the pair of them into the main living room. It was full of people and your eyes were only looking for one person to the point where Aaron and Libby had walked off to say hello to some of your friends and you hadn’t even realised.
It didn’t take much longer to spot him, standing with a guy you didn’t know and two girls in the tightest dresses you’d ever seen. Your mood plummeting as you watched the one closest to him laugh at what he was saying as she placed a hand on his upper arm and you had to look away.
You felt a set of eyes on you a few seconds after though, looking back up to see Mason looking your way with a soft smile on his face and you couldn’t help but mirror it. You wanted nothing more than to head straight over to him but the company he was with scared you and you didn’t want to interrupt. He was two steps ahead of you though and quickly said goodbye to the people he was with before making his way over to you.
‘You’re here’ he smiled. Stopping just in front of you and you wondered if he would hug you or touch you in any way but he didn’t. His smile and eyes a little dozy from where he’d been drinking but you knew he wasn’t drunk and if anything it just made him look even more adorable as his eyes flickered all over your face.
‘I’m here’ you laughed, not really knowing what to say as you were so nervous and you knew he was looking at your hands as you were playing with your fingers like usual.
‘You look… you look really nice’
‘Thank you’ you whispered, your cheeks heating at his words and you let your eyes flicker over him. He wasn’t dressed in anything outlandish, a simple boxy white t shirt and some baggy jeans but he looked just as good as always. ‘You do too’
‘Oh this old thing?’ He laughed, fiddling with the hem of his T-shirt. ‘Do you have a drink yet?’
‘No, we only just got here’ you told him, trying to motion to Libby and Aaron who you figured were still somewhere close by but you couldn’t see them anywhere.
‘Come on, I’ll get you one. I know where all the good stuff is’ he smiled and he surprised you by taking your hand and leading you through into the kitchen. You knew there were eyes on you but you kept your eyes on the floor and followed him, letting him pick you whatever drink he fancied and in the end he made you both the same before leading you back into the main living room. ‘Can i introduce you to someone?’
‘Oh um, sure’ you gulped, following him back to the guy who you’d seen him with when you’d first gotten here, but this time he was on his own.
‘This is Ben, we played together at Chelsea’ he smiled. Popping his hand on your waist as he stopped you but to your delight he didn’t move it away. ‘Ben, this is y/n’
‘It’s nice to meet you’ he smiled, his bright blue eyes staring right into your soul but no matter how pretty they were, they were no match for Masons chestnut orbs. ‘Thanks for looking after him up here, I know he appreciates having your little group to make him feel a bit normal’
‘That’s okay, it’s not me you should be thanking anyway’ you explained as you felt Masons hand leave you. Looking to the side to see him saying hello to a few more people you didn’t know but Ben seemed keen to carry on talking to you.
‘Of course I should, he’s been telling me loads about you lately’
‘Oh yeah?’ You laughed. The back of your neck warming as you tried to brush off his comment but he seemed insistent on telling you how much you were helping his friend.
‘I’m serious, I know things took a turn for him lately but he’s told me how much talking to you everyday has helped. Even if you don’t mean to be, it’s a lot to him’
‘Well I care about him a lot’ you admitted. Words you’d never even admitted to yourself let alone spoken out loud but it didn’t feel strange to finally say it. ‘I just want him to know he’s not on his own and he’s got us’
‘Well it makes me feel a lot better too’ he smiled before you felt that familiar warm hand on your waist again and Mason's lips by your ear.
‘Sorry guys, I’m back’ he grinned, squeezing you gently as Ben changed the subject. Probably not wanting Mason to know he’d caught onto the pair of you so quickly and you’d never been more thankful to talk about football before.
Mason didn’t leave your side for the rest of the night, and if he did it was only for a minute or two. His hand permanently on you whether that be your waist or his arm slung around your shoulder and you loved the way he didn’t want to leave you as you definitely didn't want to leave him.
‘You don't have to spend all your night with me, you know’ you told him as he guided you back to the kitchen to get you both a new drink and the look of shock on his face made you giggle.
‘Is that your subtle way of telling me to piss off?’
‘No’ you laughed. ‘But it’s your party, I thought you might wanna talk to some other people’
‘I’m fine here’ he shrugged as he passed you a glass and you made sure your face looked offended by his silly comment.
‘Just fine?’
‘Maybe a bit more than fine’ he chuckled, stepping closer to you as he threw you a wink and you could feel his breath on your cheek.
‘We should get going, secret Santa starts soon and you know what she’s like’ you whispered, a smug smile on his face as he realised what you were doing but he just nodded without breaking eye contact.
‘You go, I’ll see you in there’ he whispered. Letting you leave the kitchen on your own as he went the other way and as soon as you made it into the dining room you went and stood with Libby. You hadn’t seen her in hours but she never said a word about it and just smiled before she cleared her throat for everyone.
‘Secret Santa gifts are on the table. Just go and find the one with your name on and see what you get’ she giggled whilst clapping her hands and you knew she was excited as she dove right into hers.
Yours was next to Libbys and it was the biggest of them all. A big square box that was wrapped to perfection and you knew Libby was eyeing it curiously as hers was only a little bag.
Usually you would have waited until everyone had got going so you could open your gift whilst everyone was occupied but you were intrigued as to what was inside and you lifted the lid immediately. Tearing your way through the sparkly tissue paper until you caught sight of what was hidden inside. The red and yellow catching your eye instantly and you knew exactly what it was as you picked it up and gave it a once over.
‘I swear to god I’m never suggesting this again’ you heard Libby huff from beside you. Snapping you out of your moment with your gift as you looked at what she was holding and you couldn’t deny you felt awful for her. A crappy Christmas mug with the worst pixelated image of Santa you’d ever seen and a little box of hot chocolate powder to go with it. ‘There’s no way this was £20’
‘Ah I’m sorry Libs’
‘It’s whatever’ she told you before her eyes landed on your gift. ‘What’s that?’
‘It’s a vinyl’ you smiled as your eyes flew back to what was between your hands.
‘Twenty one pilots? That’s so random’
‘Not entirely’ you smiled, having a pretty good idea as to who you thought had picked this out for you as there was a certain song on this album that you’d spoken about with someone pretty recently. You were too nervous to look up and find his eyes though so you flipped it over to look at the other side to find two signatures perfectly etched onto the cover. A small gasp falling from your lips as you saw them and a rush of gratitude took over you. This was the most thoughtful gift you’d ever received and before you knew it your eyes were frantically looking for Masons.
You didn’t have to look too far, his eyes were on you already and and from the slight blush on his cheeks you were fairly certain it was him that had gifted you this.
You wanted to run over and pull him into your arms so you could thank him but you held back. Nodding down to the gift that was in front of him in hopes he’d open it but it suddenly hit you that what you’d decided to buy him paled in comparison to the thought he’d put in for you. You’d basically bought him crafting supplies whilst he’d he’d delved into your brain and got you something you’d loved that you would never have bought for yourself.
You couldn’t look, hearing a few giggles from people in his general direction and the nervousness took over your body and you had to flee. Popping your vinyl back into the box before making a swift exit out of the nearest door which thankfully led into the main room and you were back with Ben.
You asked if you could stick with him for a bit and he thankfully agreed. Telling you stories about Mason from when he was back in Chelsea and you loved learning about this side of him. The Mason up here seeming pretty reserved to the cheeky chap Ben was used to but you’d seen glimpses of it and you couldn’t wait for Mason to show you more.
You didn’t know what you were walking into but you found his room fairly easily. The door was slightly ajar and after a quick deep breath and a couple of knocks, you could hear his voice on the other side.
‘Come in’
‘H-hey, it’s me’ you told him as you popped your head round but he was waving you in fully so you walked in and shut the door behind you.
‘Hey’ he smiled ‘I take it this is all you then?’ He asked as he motioned to all the stuff you’d bought that was scattered over his bed and you felt like disappearing into the floor.
‘Oh um, yeah listen I’m sorry I know it’s a bit shit-‘
‘Are you kidding me?’ He laughed ‘I love it’
‘What? Are you serious?’
‘Of course, I’ve started sorting some bits out already but I think I might need your help with a lot of it. Do you think you’d be up for it?’ He asked. His tone excited as he smiled at you wildly and even though you’d be more than happy to help, the gravity of what he was asking you to do suddenly hit you out of nowhere.
‘Those are your memories, Mase’ you whispered. ‘Are you sure, that’s huge?’
‘Is it?’
‘Well yeah, if I help you then everytime you look at that stuff you’ll be thinking of me’ you explained but he just shrugged as he picked the red one up to give it a proper look.
‘You bought me the books, I’ll be thinking about you no matter what’ he laughed before his face got a little more serious. ‘I’m sure, okay? I really need your help’
‘I can help’ you nodded. Taking a seat next to him on his bed but you wanted to talk about something else rather than the random assortment of things on his bed. ‘I take it mine was from you then?’
‘You got me’ he giggled, holding his hands up in fake surrender. ‘Do you like it?’
‘Well I was hoping for a step ladder I can’t lie’ you teased but saw through you right away as he laughed along. ‘I’m kidding, it's perfect. Where did you even get it?’
‘I know people’ he shrugged. ‘I’m glad you like it though, I had no idea at first like we barely knew each other’
‘I did wonder why you suddenly wanted to talk to me so much’
‘I had nothing to go on, I needed something’ he smiled before his face got a little more serious. ‘Your present, It’s actually a bit of a two parter’ he smiled, reaching into his bedside drawer and producing a white envelope that he’d written your name on.
‘What’s this?’ You asked, taking it from him carefully and you wondered if it was just a Christmas card but he seemed a bit too excited to give it to you if it was just that.
‘Open it’ he told you softly and you couldn’t wait any longer. Tearing into it as carefully as you could before pulling out two tickets.
‘Mase…’ you breathed. ‘No Mase I can’t-‘
‘Of course you can’ he grinned, shuffling closer to you until your thighs touched. ‘The only reasons you told me you couldn’t go were you couldn’t afford it, which I’ve taken care of. You didn’t like crowds and I’ve booked you into a vip section so there’s not too many other people around. The only part I can’t help you with is finding someone to go with. You need to pick’
‘Will you come with me?’ You asked immediately. You knew they weren’t his thing as he’d told you he’d never listened to them before but you figured going with Mason made more sense than anyone else.
‘You want me to come? I didn’t get them for you for you to pick me’ he told you softly and you could tell he was biting back a smile at being the person you wanted with you.
‘But what if I want to go with you’ you whispered. ‘It’s my gift right? My decision on who I get to take. I want to take you’ you told him but then it hit you he might not want to go either and you didn’t want to force him. ‘But if you don’t want to-‘
‘Okay’ he smiled, cutting you off as he bumped your arm. ‘We can go together’
‘Look at us, eh. Who would have thought’ you joked, watching the way his eyes crinkled as he let out a laugh and all you wanted was to get closer to him.
‘Not me’ he winked. Bumping his shoulder into yours again. ‘Thank you, though. I was dreading this whole secret Santa thing but I’ve actually really enjoyed getting to know you’
‘I have too’ you whispered. His serious face was making you nervous, like he was about to tell you he’d see you around and burst the perfect bubble you’d created.
‘I know it’s like all over and stuff but we can still hang out right?’ He questioned. Your face breaking out into a smile at the fact you’d read it all wrong and you knew he was laughing at your reaction.
‘Yeah? You mean you still want to?’
‘Of course’ he grinned. ‘I mean I’ve been thinking of excuses for ages to try and see you. Remember when I needed washing tablets?’
‘I remember’ you laughed, grinning as he smiled back at you.
‘I didn’t really need them, I just wanted you to come over’ he giggled. And this last week or so, it’s been shit. But getting to speak to you and offload like you let me, I didn’t realise how much I needed someone for that’
‘I just hated the thought of you being alone and stressing about’
‘Well I did for the first night’ he laughed. Placing his hand behind your back on the bed and leaning into you more but it caused the bed to dip and you felt your heart flutter at how close his face seemed to yours now. His lips merely an inch away and it wouldn’t take much for you to lean forward. ‘But you’ve really picked me back up off the floor you know?’
‘It was nothing’ you laughed. Your eyes now in your lap as you nervously played with you fingers but once again he was. Breaking them apart with his own as he laced his through your and gripped your hand softly.
‘You do that a lot you know’ he chuckled softly, rubbing his thumb along the black of you hand gently and you could feel your tummy flipping as he did.
‘I think it’s just a nervous habit’
‘You don’t need to be nervous with me’ he whispered. Eyes dropping to your lips for a second before he was looking straight back in your eyes.
It was like you could feel the magnetic force of him pulling you closer, wanting nothing more than to kiss him and you were pretty sure he wanted to kiss you back as he was leaning in just as slowly.
This is it, you thought. The last few weeks imagining what it would be like to be closer to him and kiss him was now seeming to come to fruition but oddly enough for you, you didn’t feel nervous. This felt like you were exactly where you were meant to and all you wanted was to close the gap and finally feel him properly.
You were broken out of your trance by the sound of your phone ringing, the pair of you looking down and you cursed under your breath as you fumbled to try and retrieve it. Libby’s name flashing up on your screen and you gulped hard before answering.
‘H-hello?’
‘Hey, where are you?’ She asked. Music pounding in the background and it hit you that you’d barely been around her this evening.
‘Oh I’m… I’m on the loo’
‘Well hurry up and come back, it’s almost midnight’
‘I’ll be down in a sec’ you told her. Shutting off the call and turning to Mason who was looking at you was a soft smile. ‘It’s um, it’s almost midnight’
‘You go, I’ll see you down there in a sec’
‘Mase-‘
‘Go on, before she has another fit’ he chuckled, cutting you off with a smile but his cheeks were bright red and you knew he was feeling a little embarrassed so you made a quick dash and felt downstairs.
You made it down just in time, the whole room buzzing as it was edging closer to midnight and you found Libby fairly quickly. Taking her hand as she pulled you into her side and you could tell she was having a good night with all your friends.
When the count down began you felt Libby reach for you again, pulling you in for a hug first just like always and you squeezed her back before releasing her as you got to five. Knowing she would want to spend the last of the count down with Aaron and you’d be standing there awkwardly just like always.
You hoped this year you’d have at least someone around you but all the other girls were coupled up and you didn’t know where to look. Eventually backing off so you could stand to the side and out of the way like most years but a hand on your wrist stopped you.
It was like the next few seconds happened in slow motion, turning to see who stopped you and when you looked up into those warm brown eyes it was like you were transported back to ten minutes ago. Mason looking at you with his lips slightly parted as his breathing got a bit heavier.
You couldn’t hear the countdown anymore, all your energy focused on the boy in front of you but you knew it must have been finishing shortly as Mason pulled you closer to his body. His free hand cupping your jaw gently so he could tilt your face up towards his and as the words happy new year were shouted around the room he lent down and pulled you in for a kiss.
It was only short. His lips just about touching yours before he pulled back but it was seemingly just to check you were okay before he lent back in to kiss you much deeper and you felt your knees give way as he pulled you closer to his body.
You were aware that your hands were limp by your side but you felt too in shock to do anything with them for a beat until they were trailing up his strong arms and resting on his chest. His heart thrumming under your fingertips and soon enough the reality of the situation hit you causing a smile to break out on your lips that he was soon mirroring.
‘Happy new year’ he whispered once he’d pulled away. His face still close to yours as he stroked your jaw and the little glint in his eye made you lose your breath slightly.
‘Happy new year’
‘Sorry, I just-‘
‘It’s okay’ you smiled. Cutting him off slightly as you didn’t want him to apologise for anything that has just happened. ‘I’ve never been kissed at midnight so thanks’
‘The pleasure was all mine’ he winked as he wrapped both arms around your waist and pulled you further into him but you were still in such a daze you didn’t know what to say.
‘What is going on’ you whispered with a laugh, hoping he understood what you meant and from the laugh he sent you back you realised he had.
‘I don’t know’ he laughed back. ‘But these last two months, getting to know you, you’re not like anyone else I’ve ever met’ he told you but seemingly knew how that must have sounded as you tried to bite back a smile whilst he tickled your sides. ‘And I know that sounds cheesey as fuck, but being with you it’s like I’m finally alright after feeling so lost up here for so long. That song we talked about, I’ve been listening to it non stop and all I can’t think about is the fact when I’m with you I feel at home’
‘Mase’ you pouted, tears springing in your eyes immediately as you’d never heard anything so beautiful before and as he kissed your forehead you felt your skin tingle.
‘I know we were moaning about it, but I’m so glad we agreed to the whole secret Santa thing cause it’s like you’ve been right under my nose and I had no idea I could feel like this about someone. You get me in a way no one else does and the way we just clicked so quickly… I don't know. I’m rambling now but if you don’t feel the same it’s okay but I meant what I said upstairs. I wanna keep hanging out and getting to know you but maybe…’
‘Maybe what?’ You smiled, knowing he was trying to brush his feelings off just in case you didn’t feel the same but little did he know you were just in shock as you could never have imagined him saying this to you.
‘I don’t know’ he laughed, squeezing your sides again to make you laugh. ‘I don’t know how you feel and I don’t want to make an arse of myself’
‘I want the same’ you gulped, trying to find an ounce of courage to try and let him know how you were feeling but even though you wanted to shout it from the rooftops for him, it was like you couldn’t get the words out. ‘Sorry this is all so new to me I don’t really know what to say either’
‘I think we’re both just too shy for our own good’ he told you and you nodded in agreement, loving that he knew you so well already and when he pulled you even closer you wrapped your arms around his neck so his face was closer to yours. ‘So you like me… in the same way I like you?’
‘Yeah’ you gulped. Realising he’d changed his tactics to just ask you questions to make things easier for you and you smiled up at him as he kissed your nose.
‘And you’re happy to keep hanging out… just the two of us?’ He asked, lips trailing across your jaw now as your knees became weak but his strong grip around your waist was keeping you steady.
‘Yes’
‘And I can kiss you again?’
‘Yes’ you breathed, finding it increasingly difficult to answer him as he continued to kiss all over your face and you knew you were blushing like a fool.
‘Whenever I like?’
‘Depends on when you’d like’ you replied and the chuckle he let out just below your ear made you shiver in delight before he pulled back to look at you properly.
‘Right now?’
‘Go on then’ you whispered, watching him lean in a touch before his eyes flashed back up to yours.
‘One more thing’ he asked quietly, his face serious and you had no idea what he was about to say. ‘You promise this isn’t just for my spag Bol recipe?’
‘I’ll never tell’
‘I’ll take it’ he whispered. Finally leaning down and closing the gap again to kiss you softly and claim you in front of everyone.
#Mason Mount#mason mount one shot#mason mount fanfic#mason mount blurb#mason mount fluff#mason mount angst#mason mount series#mason mount imagines#mason mount imagine#mason mount fic#mason mount fan fiction#mason mount fan fic#mason mount scenarios#mason mount story#mason mount smut#mason mount x reader#mason mount x y/n#footballer x reader#footballer x y/n#footballer imagines#footballer imagine#footballer fan fiction#fluff fic#angst fic
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Feliz cumple, Leo 3️⃣7️⃣💙🤍
#lionel messi#leo messi#messi#artists on tumblr#argentina nt#argieblr#argieposting#football fanart#football#illustration#futból#angel di maria#nicolas otamendi#lisandro martinez#paulo dybala#lautaro martinez#rodrigo de paul#enzo fernandez#julian alvarez#lionel scaloni#argentina#copa america#copa américa 2024#fan art#mxxnart
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oh so that was what he was doing in that cinema in London back in february!
29/2/24 | 5/12/24
#I knew I’d seen that top before#louis#with fans#london#29.02.24#same day as the stone gig#adidas#under the tongue#adidas football#posted:#05.12.24#guess it wasn’t just a casual cinema date with matt vines on a random thursday then 😆#I remember looking up the cinema’s listing trying to guess what they’d watched#m
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Based off that one meme on twitter.
Also it's apparently V3's 7th anniversary? This counts as a celebratory drawing, right?
#kokichi#kiss him gently before punting him across a football field#Kokichi Ouma#drv3#drv3 kokichi#fan art#danganronpa#Danganronpa V3#of course my offhand drawing actually looks good why not all the time dammit
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JOE BURROW Pardon My Take Podcast | July 8, 2024
"The way I describe it is every bar we walk into is a gay bar just for us. Every dude turns around and every girl's like, 'What the fuck?' I do empathize with women and understand what they must go through." - PMT (x)
#joe burrow#cincinnati bengals#bengals#nfl#football#dailymenedit#mancandykings#joeburrowedit#nfledit#sportsedit#footballedit#flawlessgentlemen#mensource#dailymensource#*#gifset#interview#2024#i'm cryingggg like why would he say that 😭#fruity ass response#this one's for the queer burrow/bengals fans thank yew
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LOVE TALK, JOE BURROW.
pairing⠀⁎⠀joe burrow x wife!reader. word count⠀⁎⠀1.9k.
summary⠀⁎⠀with your toddler off with the cousins at her grandparents' house, it's a quiet night in the burrow household. you take advantage of the quiet to spend some one-on-one time soaking in your warm tub.
author's note⠀⁎⠀requested by an anon, i hope you like it bae <3 changed up the layout a little bit, we'll see if i stick to it lmao warnings⠀⁎⠀suggestive at worst. hubby!joe, dad!joe, frosted tips!joe, warnings about joe being a softie in general.
"Thank you, baby. That feels so good," you moaned, your eyes drifting closed as Joe's strong hands gently kneaded your tense shoulder muscles. You leaned back into him, feeling the warmth of the water and his body enveloping you. His touch was magic, easing the constant ache that seemed to follow you around lately.
"You're welcome," Joe murmured, his voice a low rumble that resonated through you. He kissed the top of your head, his breath tickling your scalp. "How's that?"
You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. "Perfect."
The conversation lulled for a moment, the only sound the soft splashing of the water. Joe's fingers danced over your skin, tracing the curve of your stomach down to your thighs before returning to massage the tension out of your neck. You felt a rush of warmth spread through your body, the stress of the week dissipating into the steamy air.
"So, have you thought more about the birth plan?" Joe asked, his voice careful, as if tiptoeing around a minefield. You two have had this conversation before, but you had never really put a bow on the details.
You exhaled deeply, your body sinking deeper into his warmth. "You know me, I'm flexible. But I do want an epidural this time. I was a champ with Amara, but I don't need to prove my strength twice."
Joe's grip tightened around your shoulders in an anxious squeeze. "Well, that's my only concern. No more natural births for you. I don't want to see you in that much pain again."
You leaned your head back, peering at him with a smirk. "Were you worried? You were about 10 seconds away from passing out when Amara was born."
Joe rolled his eyes, a faint blush rising to his cheeks. "I was not! I'm just saying, if modern medicine has a solution to that kind of pain, I want you to take it."
You chuckled, the sound echoing off the tiles. "Alright, alright. Point taken." You paused, brushing your fingers against your bump. "But other than that, let's just keep it low-key. Just you, me, and the midwife. I love our moms but I don't need an audience this time around."
Joe nodded, his eyes flickering with relief. "Deal. Just as long as you're comfortable." His thumbs dug into the knots in your shoulders, and you couldn't help but let out a contented sigh. "We're still doing a water birth at home? I have the pool in our Amazon cart but haven't pulled the trigger yet."
"Yes, Joe. At home, with the pool," you said, your voice a mix of exasperation and amusement. "I feel like you're more excited about the water birth than I am."
"What? It's just... I don't know. It seems like a cool experience," Joe replied, trying to sound nonchalant, but failing miserably.
You couldn't help but laugh, the sound rich and warm in the stillness of your bathroom sanctuary. "Cool? Having a baby is cool?"
Joe shrugged, his hands pausing in their ministrations. "Well, it's not like we're throwing a party, but it's definitely an experience. And I'd rather you be comfortable than anything else."
Your eyes popped open as a sudden jolt of movement from within your belly made you jump. "Whoa, baby girl's definitely got her daddy's athleticism," you said, placing a hand over the spot where you had felt the kick.
Joe leaned forward to peer at your stomach, his eyes lighting up with excitement. "Was that a kick?" His hand hovered over your belly, waiting for another sign of life.
"Yeah," you said, your eyes shining with affection. "Keep talking, she's a fan of your voice."
Joe grinned, leaning in closer so his cheek was against yours. "Hey, angel," he whispered, his voice tender and filled with wonder. "You're gonna be here so soon, and we can't wait to see you. You have the best big sister in the whole world, she's so excited to play with you." You felt the baby give another kick, and Joe's smile grew even wider as his hand finally felt your little baby Burrow's response.
"My boobs are killing me," you said with a grimace, breaking the momentary silence. The baby's kicks had subsided, but the pressure in your breasts remained. Joe laughed wholeheartedly, his hands moving from your shoulders to cup your breasts gently.
"You're telling me," he teased, his thumbs circling your soft nipples. "They're like two basketballs about to pop." You shot him a glare, but the sensation felt heavenly. You leaned into his touch, letting out a contented sigh.
"Asshole. You did this to me, remember?" you murmured, your voice thick with both pleasure and frustration.
"What can I say? I missed seeing them all heavy like this," Joe said, his voice a playful purr in your ear. He pinched them gently, rolling the sensitive peaks between his fingers. You couldn't help but let out a low whine, the sensation shooting straight to your core. "But seriously, baby, you're so sexy right now." He kissed your neck, his teeth grazing your skin.
"Sexy but swollen," you corrected, though you couldn't help but feel a flutter of pride at his compliment. You reached up to stroke his cheek with your thumb, feeling the two-day-old stubble against your palm. "How do you feel about doing something with Amara before the due date? I read that it's good to spend some one-on-one time with the older sibling before the new baby arrives."
Joe nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, your mom mentioned that to me, too. Maybe we could take her to the zoo closer to the date?" He kissed your neck, his teeth grazing the soft skin, sending a shiver down your spine.
You considered it. "That's a good idea. She loves animals." You leaned into his touch, enjoying the way his fingers danced over your swollen breasts. The intimacy of the moment made you feel cherished, despite the weight of your pregnancy.
"It's not like she'll remember the zoo trip in a few years," Joe pointed out, his voice a whisper against your skin. "But she'll remember the attention she got from us before her world gets flipped upside down."
"True," you said, your breath hitching as Joe's touch grew more insistent. "Do you think she fully understands what's happening?"
"Probably not," Joe replied, his breath hot against your ear. "But she'll get it when she sees her little sister for the first time." His hands slid down to your bump, his palms cupping the underside of your belly. He gently lifted the bump up, shifting the weight of your baby girl from your spine for just a brief moment. You sighed in relief as your head fell back against Joe's shoulder again.
"I hope she's as excited as we are," you murmured, your hand joining his on your stomach. You watched in awe as your daughter began to kick in response to your touch. "Look at her go."
Joe's eyes never left the sight of your baby moving beneath your skin. "I can't believe we made this happen," he whispered, his voice filled with awe. "Two little miracles."
Your hand squeezed his. "We make a good team," you said softly, your gaze meeting his. Joe's eyes met yours, finding the love and certainty that had carried you two through so much already.
"Of course we do, babe," he agreed, his voice soft with emotion. "And we're gonna rock this whole two kids thing, just like we do everything else."
You felt a sudden surge of love for him, your heart swelling in your chest. You turned your head fully, your lips finding his in a soft, lingering kiss. "Thank you for this weekend, Joey. I really needed it."
He reciprocated the kiss eagerly, his eyes smiling when you pulled away. "Anything for you, babe." His hands drifted down to your thighs, his touch light and exploratory. "With how this season is going, these moments with you are the only thing keeping me sane. If you need anything else, just let me know."
You couldn't argue with him. You felt like a new woman, the tension of the disappointing season and the weight of your pregnancy anxiety both lifted away in the blissful weekend. "Mm, I definitely needed this more than I thought," you admitted, a shy smile curving your lips.
Joe's grin widened, and he leaned in to kiss you, his hands still resting lightly on top of your thighs. "Good," he murmured. "Because I'm gonna take you to bed and make sure you sleep for the rest of the night."
Your eyes widened, and you turned to look at him over your shoulder. "Now, that's a plan I can get behind," you said, your voice a purr.
Joe stood, water sluicing off his muscular form, and offered you a hand. You took it, letting him help you out of the tub, the water running off your curves like a waterfall. He wrapped a towel around you, his eyes raking over your body with a softness that had only grown since you had conceived your first child.
"Alright, let's go," Joe said, taking your hand and leading you out of the bathroom and into your bedroom. The room was dimly lit, the only light coming from the flickering candles on the nightstand. He gently laid you down on the soft, plush bed and began to dry you off with the towel, his touch lingering on your damp skin.
You watched him, feeling a warmth spread through you that had nothing to do with the warm towel. "You're too good to me," you murmured, your voice sleepy with satisfaction.
Joe kissed the top of your head, his eyes glittering with love. "Not nearly enough, babe," he said, his voice soft. He finished drying you off, his touch lingering on your swollen belly as he worked your lotion into your skin. "You're the best thing that ever happened to me."
Your heart swelled with love, and you reached out to trace the line of his jaw with your fingertips. "And you're the best thing that ever happened to me."
Joe leaned down to kiss your stomach, his lips pressing softly against the firm mound of your growing baby. You felt the baby kick in response and you couldn't help but laugh. "I think you're already her favorite," you said, watching Joe with a warmth in your eyes.
He grinned up at you, his own eyes alight with love and excitement. "Well, I've got to start early. Can't have you stealing all the love, now can I?"
You chuckled, your hand sliding over your belly to rest on top of Joe's. "You're going to spoil the two of them rotten, I just know it."
Joe looked up at you, his smile turning mischievous. "Is that a challenge?"
You rolled your eyes playfully, but your heart was full. "No, it's a fact," you said, your voice filled with affection. "But I wouldn't have it any other way."
Joe leaned over you, his hands framing your face, his thumbs stroking your cheeks as he kissed you deeply. The kiss was slow and gentle, a promise of the passion you would share again once your baby girl was born. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, the warmth of the water still clinging to your bodies.
As the two of you broke apart, Joe whispered, "I can't wait to see your beautiful face when you hold her for the first time." Your eyes glistened with unshed tears. "Me too," you said, your voice soft with emotion.
#&. cassie writes.#joe burrow#cincinnati bengals#joe burrow x reader#bengals#cincinnati football#joe burrow bengals#joe burrow fanfic#joe burrow imagine#joe burrow fan fic#joe burrow fluff#black!fem!reader#x black fem reader#x black reader#black!reader#black reader
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★ 'cause she's watching him with those eyes / and she's loving him with that body, i just know it / and he's holding her in his arms late, late at night / you know, i wish that i had jessie's girl / i wish that i had jessie's girl / where can i find a woman like that? ───JB⁹
⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 18k (a lot more than i expected...)
⟢ ┈ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | a college student navigates her complicated feelings for her charming yet infuriating neighbor, joe burrow, while dating the seemingly perfect linebacker. after a series of missteps, flirtatious teasing, and an unexpected kiss, she finds herself caught in a whirlwind of tension, confusion, and unexpected sparks, all while trying to avoid the loud, chaotic presence of joe and his ever-constant parade of girls.
⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | unedited (sorry... i got lazy), NSFW (with lots... and lots... AND LOTS of plot), unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it, kids) praise, teasing, lots of kissing/foreplay, p in v, uhhh.. descriptions of big dick joe??? enemies to lovers, roommates, mentions of drinking/alcohol, cheating (not on reader), joe being an asshole, cocky joe, lots of fighting, heated arguments.
⟢ ┈ 𝐞𝐯'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 | this has been in my drafts for a good 2 months and finally decided to finish it up on the sunday before american thanksgiving! so... yaya! please let me know your thoughts!
The muffled sound of Ja’Marr Chase’s bass-heavy playlist seeps through the thin walls of your apartment, rattling the picture frames you swore you hung up straight last week. The tiny LSU apartment complex, with its peeling beige paint and eternally broken elevator, has its charms—like the way the front door doesn’t lock unless you kick it just right or how the air conditioner only works when it’s below 70 degrees outside.
But Joe Burrow? He’s not one of those charms.
No, Joe Burrow is the bane of your existence, the human equivalent of a pothole on a road you have to take every day. His name alone makes your best friend, Ella, roll her eyes so hard it’s a miracle they don’t get stuck in the back of her head. “Just ignore him,” she says every time you come storming through the door, ranting about whatever fresh annoyance he’s cooked up that day. “He only bothers you because you’re fun to mess with.”
Right. Like that’s supposed to make it better.
Living next door to Joe and Ja’Marr was tolerable at first. Sure, they were loud, occasionally messy, and probably violating a dozen lease terms, but it wasn’t personal. Then, you had one small misunderstanding—okay, so maybe you yelled at Joe for leaving his bike in front of your door after you tripped over it—and now it’s like he’s made it his life’s mission to drive you insane.
Sometimes, it’s harmless: an obnoxious smirk when you cross paths on the way to class or his sarcastic comments about how you always seem to be spilling coffee on your shirt. Other times, it’s borderline infuriating: stealing your parking spot, taking the last box of cinnamon rolls at the grocery store, or claiming the shared apartment complex grill for “official game day business” every single Saturday.
Still, there’s something annoyingly magnetic about him, even when you want to wring his neck. The way his eyes crinkle when he’s laughing at his own jokes. The stupid mop of curls he somehow manages to pull off. The effortless confidence that borders on cocky, though you’d never say it out loud because that’s exactly the kind of thing that would go straight to his head.
Ella always jokes that you two are like an old married couple, constantly bickering but secretly loving it. You disagree. Mostly because Joe already has enough people falling at his feet—like the swarm of girls in purple-and-gold jerseys who show up at the apartment complex every other week, giggling like they’re auditioning for a reality show.
You sigh, brushing a stray crumb off the countertop as Ella flops onto the couch behind you, textbook in hand. And if his stupid grin when he sees you on your balcony later tonight is any indication, he’s already got something planned.
You just don’t know it yet.
The parking lot outside your apartment complex is a war zone at 11 p.m., with far too many cars crammed into a space that was clearly designed with only half the residents in mind. You circle the lot for the third time, your headlights cutting through the dark like a searchlight on some hopeless mission. After eight grueling hours at the campus library helping undergrads figure out why their printers are possessed, your brain feels like oatmeal, and all you want is to collapse into your bed.
But, of course, tonight isn’t going to be that simple.
Because there he is. Joe freaking Burrow.
He’s in his Jeep—windows down, music playing softly, and, naturally, there’s a blonde perched in the passenger seat laughing at something he said. Of course, he found the last available spot. Except—it’s not his spot, because you saw it first. Your blinker’s been on since the beginning of time (or at least the last 30 seconds), and you refuse to back down now.
Your grip tightens on the steering wheel as he slowly starts to reverse into the spot, like he hasn’t noticed your very obvious claim to it. Heart pounding with a mix of exhaustion and indignation, you tap your horn. Just once. Polite, but firm. He stops, glances in his rearview mirror, and then—of course—he smirks.
Oh, hell no.
You roll down your window and lean out. “Hey, Burrow! I was waiting for that spot.”
He leans his elbow casually against the window frame, his curls catching the faint glow of the streetlight. “Were you? Didn’t see your name on it.” His voice is slow, lazy, like he’s got all the time in the world to be a pain in your ass.
You glare at him, barely suppressing the urge to snap. “I was here first.”
“And I started reversing first,” he counters, raising an eyebrow like it’s a debate class and not a parking lot at nearly midnight. The blonde giggles beside him, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. “Just let me have it. You look like you could use the exercise.”
Oh, he’s done it now.
“Excuse me?” Your voice comes out sharper than you intended, but you’re too far gone to care. “I’ve been on my feet for eight hours dealing with entitled freshmen, and if you think I’m about to let you—”
“Alright, alright,” Joe interrupts, hands raised in mock surrender. “Relax, I’m not trying to ruin your night.” He throws the Jeep into drive, and with a dramatic sigh, he pulls away, leaving the spot open for you. But not without one last parting comment. “Don’t scratch the paint when you park. Oh, wait—you’re really close to that pole—”
You park with excessive precision, throwing your car into park before leaning out the window to call after him. “I didn’t ask for your help, Joe!”
His laugh echoes across the parking lot, carefree and infuriating. You slam your door shut a little harder than necessary, adjusting your bag on your shoulder as you trudge toward the building. Finally, peace.
Or so you think.
Because just as you reach the elevator, its ding announcing its arrival, you hear the telltale sound of sneakers scuffing against concrete and—because your luck is absolute trash—Joe freaking Burrow strolls in behind you, Blonde Giggles McGee still glued to his side.
“Hey, neighbor,” he says casually, stepping into the elevator with you like he didn’t just steal and relinquish a parking spot out of sheer pettiness. The blonde gives you a wide, vaguely clueless smile, her gum snapping between her teeth.
You press the button for the third floor with a pointed jab and cross your arms, leaning against the elevator wall as Joe and his date take their sweet time figuring out which floor they’re going to. The door finally slides shut, and the tension in the small space is unbearable.
“So,” the blonde says brightly, flipping her hair over her shoulder, “you guys, like, live here? That’s so fun! Like, neighbors and stuff. Wow.”
Your lips press into a tight smile, trying to avoid eye contact with Joe, who you can feel grinning at you like this is the highlight of his week. “Yep. Fun,” you reply curtly, forcing the word out like it’s laced with acid.
Joe’s shoulders shake slightly, and you realize he’s laughing. He glances at you, and there’s that damn smirk again, like he knows exactly how close you are to losing it. “She’s real talkative tonight,” he says, tilting his head toward you. “Usually, she’s got more to say.”
You turn to him with a withering glare. “Don’t you have something else to do, Burrow?”
Before he can reply, the elevator lurches slightly as it comes to a stop on your floor. You step out quickly, muttering a polite “Good night” that is entirely devoid of warmth. Joe follows, his pace annoyingly casual as he throws one last look over his shoulder.
“See you around, neighbor,” he says, and you can hear the grin in his voice.
You don’t look back.
The smell of cheap ramen hits you the moment you open the door to your apartment. It’s comforting, in a way—familiar, like Ella’s answer to every late-night craving or bad day. She’s in the kitchen, stirring a pot on the stove, barefoot and wearing the oversized LSU sweatshirt you’d bought together during freshman year.
“You’re late,” she says without looking up, her voice light with mock reproach. “Was the library on fire, or did you stop to fight Burrow in the parking lot again?”
You kick off your shoes with a sigh, tossing your bag onto the couch. “Option B. Obviously.”
That gets her attention. She turns, spoon in hand, eyebrows raised. “Seriously? It’s, like, midnight. You two are going to give each other aneurysms before graduation.”
You slump into one of the kitchen chairs, letting your forehead hit the table dramatically. “He stole my parking spot. Had the audacity to smirk about it, too. And then—get this—I got stuck in the elevator with him and some girl who wouldn’t stop talking about how ‘fun’ it is to have neighbors.” You lift your head to glare at Ella, who is now struggling to hold back a laugh. “I’m cursed. That man is my curse.”
Ella snorts, pouring the ramen into two mismatched bowls. “He’s not your curse. He’s just a guy with too much charm and not enough common sense. And clearly, you’re living rent-free in his head, which, honestly, is kind of impressive considering he’s got a playbook in there.”
You accept the bowl she slides across the table, your stomach growling despite your lingering irritation. “I don’t want to live in his head. I want him to stop being so… so Joe all the time.”
Ella sits across from you, propping her chin in her hand with a sly grin. “Are you sure? You seem to spend a lot of time talking about him.”
You glare at her over a mouthful of noodles. “Don’t start.”
But she’s already started, her grin widening. “I’m just saying, it’s giving sexual tension.”
You nearly choke, coughing as you wave her off. “Nope. Absolutely not. There’s no tension. Only irritation. And rage. And an overwhelming desire to see him move to a different apartment complex.”
Ella laughs, leaning back in her chair. “Whatever you say, babe. But for the record, I think you secretly enjoy it.”
You open your mouth to argue, but before you can form a retort, there’s a knock at the door. Both of you freeze, staring at each other like deer caught in headlights.
“You expecting someone?” Ella whispers, her tone suddenly conspiratorial.
“No,” you whisper back, your heart sinking as a horrible suspicion creeps over you.
Ella gestures for you to check, and with a deep, resigned breath, you shuffle to the door, bowl still in hand. You crack it open just enough to see who’s on the other side, and—because the universe apparently hates you—there he is. Joe Burrow, in all his smug, infuriating glory, holding a box of cinnamon rolls.
“Hey, neighbor,” he says, his grin infuriatingly wide. “Figured I owed you something for stealing your spot.”
You stare at him, speechless, for a moment. Then, finally, you manage, “It’s 11:30 at night.”
He shrugs, as if that’s a perfectly reasonable time for a peace offering. “Better late than never, right?”
From behind you, Ella’s voice rings out, barely containing her amusement. “Is that Joe? Invite him in!”
You turn to glare at her, silently vowing revenge, but when you look back at Joe, he’s already stepping inside like he owns the place.
“Nice place,” he says, glancing around before holding up the box. “So… cinnamon roll?”
You sigh, shutting the door behind him. It’s going to be a long night.
Joe leans casually against the counter, still holding the box of cinnamon rolls like he’s been invited to stay for a late-night hangout. You narrow your eyes at him, folding your arms. “So, what’s this about, really? Cinnamon rolls aren’t exactly your style.”
“Wow, judgmental much?” he says with a mock-wounded expression. “What if I just wanted to be neighborly?”
Ella snickers softly behind you, spooning up her ramen as she watches the exchange like it’s prime-time TV.
Joe grins, ignoring your skepticism. “Actually,” he says, setting the box on the counter with a little too much flourish, “I’m out of sugar. You wouldn’t happen to have any, would you?”
You blink at him, incredulous. “Sugar? You came over at almost midnight to borrow sugar?”
“Yup,” he says, popping the “p” for emphasis, completely unbothered by your glare.
Ella, ever the peacemaker—or enabler, depending on the situation—sets her bowl down and gets up to rummage through the cabinets. “We’ve got some,” she says reluctantly, pulling out a small bag. She walks over and places it in Joe’s outstretched hand, but not without narrowing her eyes at him. “You better bring this back, Burrow. Or at least repay us with something better than cinnamon rolls.”
“Noted,” he says with a charming smile, tucking the bag under his arm. He turns to you, his grin softening into something almost teasing. “Thanks, neighbor. You’re a real lifesaver.”
You don’t bother replying, instead stepping aside so he can leave. He makes his way to the door, pausing for a moment. “Oh, and don’t forget to check your parking job in the morning,” he says with a wink before slipping out into the hallway.
The second the door clicks shut, you groan, slumping against the counter. Ella bursts into laughter, practically doubling over as she grabs her bowl again. “You two are ridiculous,” she says between bites.
“I’m moving out,” you mutter, dragging yourself to the couch. “I don’t care if it’s to a cardboard box in the quad. It’ll be quieter than this.”
You think that’s the end of it—Joe’s random sugar-borrowing adventure, Ella’s endless teasing—but of course, you’re wrong. Because a few hours later, just as you’re finally starting to drift off in the tiny bedroom you call your sanctuary, you hear it.
A muffled giggle. A low, rumbling voice you’d recognize anywhere. Then, unmistakably, the rhythmic creak of a bed frame against the wall.
Your eyes snap open, and for a moment, you pray you’re imagining things. Maybe it’s a nightmare—a cruel joke your overtired brain is playing on you. But then you hear it again, louder this time, followed by a very enthusiastic “Oh my God, Joey!”
You groan, grabbing your pillow and pressing it over your ears.
From the other side of the wall, Ella’s muffled voice reaches you through the darkness. “Is that…?”
“Yes,” you hiss, your voice barely audible through the pillow. “It’s him.”
She snorts, and you can hear her shifting in her bed. “Well, at least he’s getting good use out of that sugar.”
You let out a strangled laugh, torn between exhaustion and disbelief. “I swear, if this goes on all night—”
As if on cue, there’s another creak, louder this time, followed by more giggling and exaggerated moaning.
Ella sighs. “Thin walls, huh?”
“Apparently,” you mutter, rolling onto your side and glaring at the wall like it’s personally offended you.
The noises continue—giggles, muffled moans, the occasional thud that makes you wince. You bury your face in your pillow, silently cursing Joe Burrow and his audacity.
It’s going to be a very, very long night.
The next morning comes too soon. Despite the symphony of creaks, giggles, and thuds that plagued the night, you manage to drag yourself out of bed, bleary-eyed and cranky. The coffee pot sputters as you pour yourself a life-saving cup, muttering curses at your neighbor under your breath. Ella, still in her pajamas, watches you from the couch with an amused smirk.
“You look alive,” she teases, spooning cereal into her mouth. “Barely.”
“I hate him,” you say flatly, taking a long sip of coffee.
“Sure you do,” she singsongs.
You don’t dignify her with a response, grabbing your bag and heading out the door.
As luck—or fate—would have it, the universe isn’t done with you yet. Because just as you’re locking your apartment door, you hear the unmistakable sound of high heels clicking down the hallway.
You glance over your shoulder and immediately regret it.
There she is. Last night’s Blonde of the Hour, strutting toward the elevator with a walk of shame so confident it might as well be a victory lap. She’s wearing Joe’s oversized LSU hoodie, paired with last night’s skirt and heels. Her hair is tousled, but she doesn’t seem to care.
And because the universe apparently has a sense of humor, she notices you at the same time you notice her.
“Morning!” she chirps, her voice way too chipper for someone who clearly didn’t sleep much.
You press your lips together to keep from laughing, nodding in acknowledgment. “Morning.”
The two of you step into the elevator together, the silence stretching awkwardly between you. You steal a glance at her from the corner of your eye, wondering if she has any idea that her night of “fun” ruined yours. But then she sighs and adjusts the sleeves of Joe’s hoodie, completely unbothered, and you realize she probably doesn’t care.
The doors slide open to the lobby, and you step out first, your pace brisk as you make a beeline for the exit. But as you push through the glass doors into the bright morning sunlight, you nearly collide with none other than Joe Burrow himself.
He’s leaning against his car, coffee cup in hand, looking far too put together for someone who should be as tired as you. His eyes widen slightly when he sees you, then flick over to the blonde trailing behind.
“Morning, neighbor,” he says, his voice laced with amusement.
“Morning,” you reply dryly, brushing past him toward your car.
But of course, he can’t just let it go. “Sleep well?”
You stop dead in your tracks, turning to glare at him. His smirk is infuriatingly smug, and you can’t tell if he’s genuinely clueless or just messing with you.
“Thin walls,” you say pointedly, raising an eyebrow.
His smirk falters for half a second before he recovers, lifting his coffee cup in a mock toast. “Noted.”
The blonde, oblivious to the tension, giggles. “Joe, you didn’t tell me your neighbors were so fun!”
You resist the urge to roll your eyes, instead unlocking your car with more force than necessary. “Oh, we’re a blast,” you mutter under your breath, sliding into the driver’s seat.
As you pull out of the parking lot, you catch a glimpse of Joe in your rearview mirror, still leaning against his car, watching you leave. There’s a flicker of something in his expression—amusement, maybe, or curiosity—but you don’t have the energy to figure it out.
Later that afternoon, when you’re back in your apartment trying to catch up on work, Ella pops her head into the living room with a mischievous grin.
“Guess who I ran into at the coffee shop?”
You glance up warily. “Who?”
“Joe,” she says, plopping down on the couch. “He said he’s planning a little ‘building mixer’ this weekend. Invited everyone on the floor. Including us.”
You groan, letting your head fall back against the couch. “No. Absolutely not. I am not going to some Burrow-hosted mixer.”
“Oh, come on,” Ella says, nudging you with her foot. “It could be fun. Free food, free drinks… awkward encounters with your mortal enemy…”
You glare at her, but she just laughs. “You’re going,” she says firmly. “I already RSVP’d for us.”
And just like that, you realize your week is about to get a whole lot more complicated.
Saturday night rolls around faster than you’d like, and with it comes the so-called “mixer” that Joe Burrow somehow convinced Ella you had to attend. You’d held onto the slim hope that it would be a small, quiet gathering of your neighbors in the building, with maybe some snacks, polite small talk, and an early exit for you.
Instead, you step off the elevator into what can only be described as chaos. The hallway is packed with people, the distant thrum of music vibrating through the walls. Someone’s yelling about finding the keg, and the faint scent of spilled beer and cologne wafts toward you.
“This is not a mixer,” you mutter to Ella as you both navigate your way through the crowd.
Ella, of course, looks thrilled. She’s dolled up in a crop top and high-waisted jeans, her hair and makeup perfectly done. “Relax,” she says, looping her arm through yours. “It’s just a party. Have a drink, let loose. Who knows? You might even have fun.”
You highly doubt that, but before you can argue, she spots Ja’Marr Chase leaning against the doorway to Joe’s apartment and perks up immediately. “I’ll catch up with you later!” she says, already untangling herself from your arm and heading toward him.
“Ella!” you call after her, but she’s too busy tossing a flirty smile Ja’Marr’s way to notice.
Great. Now you’re alone in the middle of a party that feels like half of LSU showed up to, surrounded by strangers and sticky floors. You push your way toward the kitchen, hoping to grab a drink and then find a corner to blend into until Ella decides it’s time to leave.
But, because the universe apparently loves messing with you, you hear his voice before you see him.
“Well, well, look who decided to show up.”
You groan internally and turn to see Joe leaning against the counter, a Solo cup in hand and that ever-present smirk on his face. He’s dressed casually in a fitted t-shirt and jeans, but somehow still manages to look like he owns the place—which, technically, he does.
“I’m only here because Ella dragged me,” you say, crossing your arms. “Don’t get any ideas.”
Joe chuckles, taking a sip of his drink. “Come on, admit it. You’re having the time of your life.”
“Yeah, sure,” you deadpan. “Sticky floors and loud music are exactly my idea of fun.”
He grins, clearly enjoying your irritation. “You know, if you wanted to hang out with me so badly, you could’ve just asked. No need to pretend Ella dragged you here.”
“I—” You stop yourself, realizing there’s no point in arguing. It’s exactly what he wants. Instead, you grab a bottle of water from the counter and turn to leave.
“Hey, hold up,” he says, stepping in front of you. “You’re not just gonna drink water all night, are you?”
“Yes, Joe, I am,” you say, trying to sidestep him, but he moves to block you.
“At least let me get you a real drink,” he says, gesturing toward the makeshift bar someone set up on the other side of the room. “I make a mean rum and Coke.”
“I’m fine, thanks.”
“Suit yourself,” he says, stepping aside, but not before adding, “But you’re missing out. My bartending skills are unmatched.”
You roll your eyes and head toward the living room, finding a spot near the wall where you can observe without being dragged into the chaos. You sip your water and watch as Joe works the room, effortlessly charming everyone he talks to.
About an hour later, you’re starting to regret not leaving when Ella abandoned you. You’ve been stuck making awkward small talk with strangers, and the music is only getting louder.
Then Ella appears out of nowhere, grabbing your arm with a giggle. “Come with me,” she says, pulling you toward the corner where Joe and some of his teammates are lounging on a worn-out sectional.
“Why?” you ask, resisting her tug.
“Because Ja’Marr wants to introduce me to his friends, and I don’t want to go alone!”
You sigh, reluctantly following her over. Ja’Marr greets Ella with a grin, and she practically melts under his attention. You, on the other hand, find yourself stuck sitting next to Joe, who looks far too pleased about the arrangement.
“Miss me already?” he asks, leaning closer so you can hear him over the music.
“Not even a little,” you reply, glaring at him.
He chuckles, clearly unbothered. “You’re really bad at hiding how much you enjoy my company, you know that?”
You open your mouth to retort, but before you can, one of his teammates interrupts. “Yo, Burrow, who’s this?”
“This,” Joe says, gesturing toward you with a dramatic flourish, “is my lovely neighbor.”
“Neighbor, huh?” the guy says, raising an eyebrow. “You two seem… close.”
You snort. “Not even remotely.”
Joe grins, slinging an arm over the back of the couch behind you. “Don’t listen to her,” he says. “She’s just shy.”
You shoot him a withering look, but he only laughs, clearly enjoying himself.
As the night drags on, Joe makes it his personal mission to annoy you. Every time you try to leave, he finds a way to pull you back into the conversation, teasing you relentlessly. His teammates, to their credit, seem amused by the dynamic, occasionally chiming in with their own jokes.
By the time Ella finally decides she’s ready to leave, you’re exhausted—physically and emotionally. You practically sprint for the door, eager to escape Joe’s smirk and the endless teasing.
As you step into the hallway, he calls after you, “See you around, neighbor!”
You don’t bother responding, instead dragging Ella toward the elevator. But as you press the button for your floor, you can’t help but feel like you haven’t seen the last of Joe Burrow tonight—or any night, for that matter.
The next week at LSU passes like any other, but somehow, Joe Burrow has managed to worm his way into your daily routine. It starts small—running into him at the mailboxes, hearing his muffled laughter through the thin walls at ungodly hours, and the occasional “good morning, neighbor!” shouted across the courtyard when you’re clearly not in the mood.
It’s maddening, really, the way he seems to delight in being everywhere you don’t want him to be. And yet, despite your annoyance, you can’t deny that his presence makes life just a little more… interesting.
FRIDAY NIGHT
Ella bursts through the apartment door, her face lit up with excitement. You’re sprawled on the couch, flipping through lecture notes and wishing the week would end already.
“Guess what!” she exclaims, tossing her bag onto the counter.
“Let me guess,” you say dryly. “Ja’Marr invited you to another party?”
“Close,” she says, wiggling her eyebrows. “Ja’Marr and Joe are throwing a tailgate tomorrow before the game, and we’re invited.”
You groan, already dreading the idea of spending yet another afternoon dodging Joe’s incessant teasing. “I’m busy,” you lie.
“You’re coming,” Ella insists, plopping down next to you. “It’s practically a campus tradition, and besides, you could use a little fun.”
“Fun,” you repeat, raising an eyebrow. “Is that what we’re calling being forced to socialize with half of LSU now?”
Ella rolls her eyes. “Come on, it’ll be fun. Food, drinks, and—” she grins mischievously—“a chance to hang out with your favorite quarterback.”
You glare at her. “Joe Burrow is not my favorite anything.”
“Uh-huh,” she says, clearly not believing you. “Wear something cute. We’re leaving at noon.”
SATURDAY AFTERNOON
The tailgate is, unsurprisingly, a spectacle. Rows of tents stretch across the field, decked out in purple and gold, with grills smoking and music blasting. Students and alumni alike mill about, laughing and chatting as they gear up for the game.
You follow Ella through the crowd, clutching a plastic cup of soda and trying to blend in. She, of course, makes a beeline for Ja’Marr, who’s manning the grill with an ease that suggests he’s done this a thousand times.
And where there’s Ja’Marr, there’s Joe.
He spots you almost immediately, his trademark smirk spreading across his face as he waves you over. “Hey, neighbor! Glad you could make it.”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” you mutter, but he’s already stepping closer, his easy confidence making it impossible to ignore him.
“What, no hug?” he teases, holding his arms out dramatically.
“Not in this lifetime,” you reply, sidestepping him.
Ella, now fully engrossed in a conversation with Ja’Marr, leaves you to fend for yourself. You glance around, debating whether to make a run for it, but Joe blocks your path, clearly amused by your discomfort.
“You’re really bad at this whole socializing thing, aren’t you?” he says, leaning casually against the nearest table.
“Maybe I just don’t enjoy your company,” you retort, taking a sip of your drink.
He grins. “If that were true, you wouldn’t be here.”
Before you can respond, one of his teammates calls his name, distracting him long enough for you to slip away. You find a quieter spot near the edge of the field, letting the noise of the crowd fade into the background.
But, of course, Joe finds you again.
“Thought you’d try to escape, huh?” he says, appearing at your side like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“I wasn’t escaping,” you lie, crossing your arms.
“Sure you weren’t.” He pauses, glancing at the crowd. “Not a fan of tailgates?”
“Not a fan of crowds,” you admit.
He nods, surprisingly serious for once. “Fair enough. They’re not for everyone.”
You glance at him, caught off guard by the genuine tone in his voice. It’s a rare moment of sincerity from someone who seems to live for getting under your skin.
And then, just as quickly, the moment passes.
“Still,” he says, his smirk returning, “you’ve got to admit, the food’s pretty good. Ja’Marr’s burgers? Best on campus.”
The party stretched well into the night, turning the once-bustling tailgate into a dimly lit, hazy scene of music, laughter, and scattered conversations. You’d almost forgotten how much you hated these kinds of events. The air was warm, the smell of grilled food and spilled beer thick, but for once, you weren’t faking a smile just to survive.
Instead, you were leaning against a folding chair near the makeshift DJ booth, chatting with a guy named Wes. He was a linebacker for LSU, though, by his own admission, mostly a benchwarmer. Shy, soft-spoken, and refreshingly normal, Wes wasn’t at all what you expected to find at a party like this.
“You’re telling me you’ve never been to Mike’s cage?” he asked, his voice slightly raised to be heard over the music.
You laughed. “I don’t know, it just never seemed like a big deal to me. It’s a tiger.”
His eyes widened in mock offense. “It’s not just a tiger. It’s our tiger.”
“Okay, okay, maybe I’ll check it out sometime,” you said, grinning at his enthusiasm.
From the corner of your eye, you caught movement, and instinctively, you glanced over. There, leaning against the bar table, was Joe.
His usual smirk was nowhere to be seen. Instead, his jaw was tight, and his eyes were fixed on you and Wes.
The sight of his uncharacteristically cold expression sent a jolt through you. Was he annoyed? No, that didn’t make sense. He didn’t care about you, not really.
Wes was saying something about the tiger habitat, but your attention flickered back to Joe. His knuckles whitened around the edge of his red Solo cup, and he seemed to be muttering something to Ja’Marr, who only shrugged in response.
“Everything okay?” Wes asked, his brow furrowed as he followed your gaze.
You blinked, forcing yourself to refocus. “Yeah, sorry. What were you saying?”
Joe, however, was impossible to ignore. At one point, he stormed past your little corner of the party, brushing close enough that you could feel the heat of his arm against yours.
Wes had just finished telling a story about his first LSU practice, his nervous laughter making you smile, when Joe’s voice cut through the conversation like a jagged knife.
“Nice to see you making friends,” he said, his tone just sharp enough to raise the hairs on your neck.
You turned to find Joe standing a few feet away, his trademark smirk forced and strained. He wasn’t looking at you but at Wes, his gaze heavy with something you couldn’t quite place.
“Hey, Burrow,” Wes said, his voice even but noticeably quieter.
Joe stepped closer, ignoring you entirely as he clapped Wes on the shoulder. “Wesley Evans, right? Linebacker extraordinaire.” His words were light, almost teasing, but there was a strange undertone to them.
“Uh, yeah,” Wes said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Though ‘extraordinaire’ might be a bit of a stretch.”
Joe chuckled, his laugh cold. “Oh, come on. Don’t sell yourself short. I mean, someone’s got to keep the bench warm, right?”
The group went silent.
You froze, your stomach dropping as the words settled over the conversation like a wet blanket. Wes’s easygoing demeanor faltered for just a moment—just long enough for you to catch the flicker of hurt in his eyes.
But he recovered quickly, letting out a forced laugh. “Yeah, well, someone’s gotta do it.”
“Joe,” Ja’Marr said sharply, stepping forward. “That was uncalled for.”
Joe raised his hands in mock surrender, his smirk faltering. “What? I was just joking.”
“No, you weren’t,” Ja’Marr said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
You stared at Joe, your chest tightening with a mix of anger and confusion. What was his problem? You’d seen him tease people before, but this was something else. This was cruel.
Joe’s eyes finally flicked to yours, and for a brief second, something like regret flashed across his face. But just as quickly, he turned away, muttering, “Whatever,” before stalking off into the crowd.
The group stood in awkward silence, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife.
“I’m sorry about that,” you said softly, turning to Wes.
He shook his head, forcing a smile. “Don’t worry about it. Happens all the time.”
But you could see the way his shoulders sagged, the way his fingers tightened around the edge of his cup.
Ja’Marr sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “He’s not usually like that.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” you muttered, still staring at the spot where Joe had disappeared.
Ja’Marr shot you a look but said nothing. The group eventually dispersed, the easy energy of the night soured by the encounter.
And as you followed Ella home later, you couldn’t stop replaying the moment in your head, trying to piece together why Joe Burrow seemed so determined to ruin the night—not just for you, but for Wes, too.
The walk back to your apartment was quiet, the faint buzz of crickets and distant party music filling the air as you and Ella navigated the dimly lit sidewalks. The night had been long, and your head was still spinning from Joe’s earlier outburst. You’d always known him to be annoying, maybe even a little infuriating, but tonight was different. There was a sharpness to him, an edge that left you unsettled.
Ella broke the silence first, her voice soft. “What do you think that was about? With Joe, I mean.”
You shrugged, kicking a loose pebble down the pavement. “Who knows? Maybe he ran out of people to torture and decided to branch out.”
Ella laughed lightly but didn’t press further. By the time you reached your apartment complex, the cool night air had started to seep into your skin, making you shiver. All you could think about was collapsing into bed and forgetting this day ever happened.
But, of course, Joe Burrow had other plans.
There he was, right in front of your door, pressed up against yet another blonde, her manicured nails tangled in his hair as they made out like the world was ending.
You stopped dead in your tracks, Ella nearly bumping into you.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you muttered under your breath.
At the sound of your voice, Joe broke away from his hookup, turning to face you with a smirk that was equal parts shameless and infuriating.
“Well, well, if it isn’t my favorite neighbor,” he drawled, his voice low and teasing. “Didn’t think you’d be back so soon. Wes not invite you over for a post-party study session?”
Your jaw tightened. “Get out of the way, Burrow.”
He raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying himself. “What’s the rush? You don’t want to hang out? I can introduce you to…uh…” He glanced at the girl beside him, snapping his fingers as if trying to remember her name.
The blonde giggled, clearly unbothered. “Stephanie,” she offered, tucking her hair behind her ear.
“Right. Stephanie,” Joe said, his grin widening.
Ella groaned softly beside you, crossing her arms. “Joe, move. We’re tired.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he said, stepping aside but not before leaning casually against the doorframe, effectively blocking your path again. “But seriously, where’s Wes? Thought you two were hitting it off. Or is he back on the bench already?”
“Are you serious right now?” you snapped, finally losing the last shred of patience you had left.
Joe straightened up, clearly surprised by the sudden bite in your tone. “What? I’m just messing around.”
“No, you’re being a jerk,” you shot back. “First, you humiliate Wes at the party, and now you’re standing here, rubbing it in like it’s some kind of joke. What’s your problem?”
Stephanie shifted uncomfortably, her gaze darting between you and Joe. “Uh, maybe we should—”
“Not now,” Joe cut her off, his tone sharper than you’d ever heard it. He didn’t even look at her, his eyes locked on yours.
Stephanie’s mouth fell open in shock. “Excuse me?”
“Just go,” he said, his voice quieter but no less firm.
For a moment, the three of you stood frozen, the tension hanging thick in the air. Then, with an indignant huff, Stephanie grabbed her purse and stormed off, her heels clicking angrily against the pavement.
Ella’s eyebrows shot up to her hairline. “Wow,” she muttered under her breath.
Joe ran a hand through his hair, exhaling deeply before turning back to you. “Happy now?”
“No,” you said, crossing your arms. “You’re still here.”
“Unbelievable,” he muttered, shaking his head. “You’re acting like I committed some crime. I was just joking, okay? It’s not my fault you can’t take a little teasing.”
“Teasing?” you repeated, incredulous. “Joe, you embarrassed Wes in front of everyone tonight. And for what? To make yourself feel better? To prove you’re the big man on campus?”
His jaw clenched, the cocky facade cracking ever so slightly. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Then enlighten me,” you challenged, taking a step closer. “Why do you always have to be such an ass?”
For a moment, he didn’t say anything, his gaze dropping to the ground. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and tense. “Maybe because it’s the only way to get your attention.”
Your breath caught, his words hitting like a punch to the gut. Before you could respond, he turned on his heel and walked away, the sound of his door slamming echoing through the quiet hallway.
Ella let out a low whistle. “Well, that was…something.”
You stared after him, your heart pounding in your chest. “Yeah,” you said softly. “Something.”
“Did he just…?” Ella’s voice was barely a whisper beside you.
You swallowed hard, not trusting yourself to speak. What the hell was that supposed to mean? It wasn’t like Joe to be vulnerable—hell, he practically lived to get under your skin. And yet, there it was, hanging in the air: the truth you never asked for, wrapped up in all his stupid teasing and annoying antics.
“Forget it,” you finally muttered, fumbling with your keys as you moved to unlock the door. “He’s just trying to mess with me.”
“Uh-huh,” Ella said slowly, following you inside. “Because, you know, the guy who just ditched a hot blonde to argue with you at midnight clearly doesn’t care.”
You shot her a glare, unwilling to entertain the idea. “I’m going to bed.”
Ella raised her hands in surrender, smirking knowingly as she headed for her room. “Okay, but don’t act surprised when he shows up tomorrow. He’s not exactly the type to let things go.”
“Goodnight, Ella,” you said firmly, shutting your bedroom door behind you.
But as you lay awake in the dark, staring at the ceiling, you couldn’t get his words out of your head. Maybe because it’s the only way to get your attention. Was he serious? Or was this just another game to him, a way to throw you off-balance and make you question everything?
With a frustrated sigh, you rolled over, punching your pillow as if it was somehow Joe’s fault that you couldn’t sleep. Whatever his deal was, you weren’t going to let him get under your skin any more than he already had.
But deep down, you knew it was too late. Because whether you liked it or not, Joe Burrow had already wormed his way into your thoughts—and no amount of denial was going to change that.
The next morning, you woke up to a series of loud knocks on your door, far too early for any sane person to be awake. Groaning, you pulled the covers over your head, but the knocking continued, persistent and unrelenting.
“Go away!” you yelled, but the noise didn’t stop.
With a huff, you threw off the blankets and stumbled out of bed, yanking open the door with every intention of giving whoever it was a piece of your mind.
But, of course, it was Joe.
He stood there, leaning casually against the doorframe like he hadn’t just woken you up at the crack of dawn, a lazy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Morning, neighbor.”
You stared at him, too stunned and too tired to muster a response.
“Didn’t think you’d be up,” he said, his tone annoyingly chipper.
“I wasn’t,” you snapped, rubbing your eyes. “What the hell do you want?”
His smile widened, and he held up a to-go coffee cup, the LSU logo bright against the paper sleeve. “Thought you might need a pick-me-up.”
You blinked at the cup, then at him, suspicion rising. “What’s the catch?”
“No catch,” he said, still holding it out. “Just coffee. Truce?”
You hesitated, the words from last night still lingering between you. But, against your better judgment, you reached for the cup, your fingers brushing his for a brief second. “Fine. Truce. For now.”
His eyes gleamed, like he’d just won some kind of invisible battle. “I’ll take it.” He turned to leave but paused, glancing over his shoulder. “Oh, and by the way—I’m not going anywhere.”
And with that, he was gone, leaving you standing in the doorway with a coffee cup in hand and the distinct feeling that, somehow, things were about to get a whole lot more complicated.
Things between you and Wes have been going really well. You’ve been texting each other daily since that first meeting in the quad, and his messages always seem to bring a smile to your face. Some days, you talk about classes and the usual college chaos—complaining about professors who seem to thrive on assigning last-minute papers, laughing over campus gossip, or sharing music recommendations.
Other days, the conversations drift into deeper topics: family, future dreams, and the things you never thought you’d share with someone you’d barely known a few weeks ago. It's easy, effortless, and you feel like you've known him forever. There's a connection that grows stronger with each passing day, his texts becoming a constant you look forward to amid the swirl of college life.
When game days roll around, you make sure to watch, even if football has never been your thing. You learn enough of the basics to text him encouragement before each game and tease him when his team makes a stupid play. And every single time he wins, you get a photo of him in his jersey, sweaty and glowing with victory, his smile so wide you can feel it through the screen.
One crisp Saturday evening after a particularly big game—a win that had the entire stadium roaring and chanting for more—your phone buzzes. It’s Wes, as expected, but this time the message is different.
Wes: Big win tonight. You should come out to celebrate—party at the house. It'll be fun, promise.
You hesitate for a moment. Frat parties aren’t usually your scene, but the idea of seeing Wes in person after weeks of building up this text-based connection makes your heart beat a little faster. It feels like the right time to finally break out of the comfort of your phone screen. You don’t want to overthink it, so you respond quickly.
You: Okay, I’ll come! What time? Wes: Perfect. Starts at 9, but I’ll be there around 10. Meet me out front? I’ll make sure you don’t get lost.
You can’t help but laugh at that—his protective side has become more apparent lately, and you find it kind of endearing. The rest of the evening passes in a blur of anticipation. You try on half your wardrobe, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness that makes your stomach flutter. After way too much deliberation, you settle on something that’s cute but comfortable—a black crop top, jeans that fit just right, and your favorite sneakers. Casual, but you don’t want to come off like you’re trying too hard.
The party was in full swing by the time you and Wes went in, the familiar buzz of laughter and music filling the air. His arm rested loosely around your shoulders as you made your way through the packed house, a red solo cup already in his hand. It was a typical LSU post-game celebration—teammates hyped up from their win, students eager for a reason to cut loose, and just enough chaos to keep things interesting.
Wes, ever the golden retriever type, was all smiles as he greeted his teammates. You couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt as you plastered on your own smile. Wes was great—sweet, thoughtful, and good-looking to boot—but there was something missing. Conversations with him always felt a little too polished, like he was sticking to a script.
Still, you weren’t going to let your wandering thoughts ruin the night. As he led you toward the makeshift bar in the kitchen, you decided to let loose a little, leaning into his world for the evening.
You were two drinks in when you felt it—a shift in the air that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Glancing across the room, your eyes locked with Joe’s. He was leaning casually against the wall, his cup dangling from his fingers as he laughed at something Ja’Marr said. But his focus wasn’t on his teammate—it was on you.
That look.
You’d seen it before, the one that screamed I’m up to something. Your stomach twisted as his lips curved into a slow, knowing smirk.
“What’s wrong?” Wes asked, his voice breaking through your thoughts.
“Nothing,” you said quickly, forcing a smile. “Just thought I saw someone I knew.”
Wes didn’t notice your distraction, too busy rambling about the game. You nodded along, but your attention kept drifting back to Joe. He was still watching, and now he was moving.
Straight toward you.
“Wesley,” Joe said, his voice louder than necessary as he clapped a hand on Wes’s shoulder. “Man of the hour! Hell of a game tonight.”
Wes beamed, his chest puffing out a little. “Thanks, Burrow. That means a lot coming from you.”
“Oh, don’t mention it,” Joe said smoothly, his grin sharpening. “You’re really making a name for yourself out there.” He paused, his tone dipping just enough to make the compliment feel off. “You’ve got a solid five minutes of playing time this season, right?”
Wes laughed, missing the sarcasm entirely. “Yeah, Coach says I’m improving every week.”
Joe nodded, his expression the picture of sincerity. “No doubt. You’re an inspiration, man. Really showing the bench how it’s done.”
You rolled your eyes, biting back the urge to step in. Wes didn’t deserve to be Joe’s verbal punching bag, even if he was too oblivious to notice.
Then Joe shifted his focus.
“And this,” he said, gesturing toward you with his cup, “is the girl everyone’s been talking about?”
You stiffened, already bracing yourself.
“She’s great, right?” Wes said proudly, tightening his arm around your waist.
“Absolutely,” Joe said, his eyes locking on yours. “Smart, pretty, patient.” His lips twitched as he added, “Definitely one of a kind.”
The room felt hotter, smaller. You knew what he was doing, and you refused to let him win.
“Wow, Joe,” you said, your tone dripping with mock sweetness. “That’s almost a compliment. Are you feeling okay?”
The corners of his mouth twitched upward. “What can I say? I’m a generous guy.”
Wes chuckled awkwardly, clearly missing the tension simmering between the two of you. But the people around you weren’t as oblivious. Conversations around the kitchen began to quiet, heads subtly turning in your direction.
Joe leaned in slightly, his gaze never leaving yours. “Though I gotta say, Wes, you’ve got your hands full. She seems like the type to keep you on your toes. Always ready with a snappy comeback.”
You took a step forward, your jaw tightening. “Maybe because some people deserve it.”
“Oh, I’m sure you’re talking about me,” Joe said, his smirk widening. “But hey, you’ve got to admit, I keep things interesting.”
“Interesting?” you repeated, your voice rising. “You mean infuriating.”
By now, you were toe-to-toe, the space between you charged with unspoken words and something else you refused to acknowledge.
Joe’s eyes flicked down to your lips for a fraction of a second before he smiled again, softer this time. “Guess that’s one way to put it.”
Your breath caught, and for a moment, you were certain everyone in the room could see the way your cheeks flushed, the way your chest rose and fell faster than it should have.
Joe straightened, patting Wes on the back. “You’ve got a good one here, man. Don’t screw it up.”
And just like that, he was gone, disappearing back into the crowd with that stupid smirk still on his face.
Wes turned to you, oblivious as ever. “Man, Joe’s great, isn’t he?”
You didn’t answer, too busy trying to calm the storm raging inside you. Because as much as you hated to admit it, Joe Burrow had just gotten under your skin again. And this time, you weren’t sure you could shake him off.
The days blur together after the party, each one bleeding into the next with a heavy quiet you can’t shake. Joe hasn’t teased you, hasn’t made any more snide comments in passing. It’s almost like he’s disappeared entirely, and the silence he’s left behind feels suffocating.
But it's not the kind of peace you wanted—it's the kind that echoes, that bounces around inside your skull, replaying the things he said over and over again until you can’t ignore them anymore. You try to focus on Wes, try to let his easygoing, good-natured attitude soothe the irritation that keeps curling under your skin, but the more you think about Joe’s words, the more they fester. Suddenly, everything about Wes feels too soft, too careful. He’s kind, yes, but there's a blandness to it, a safe predictability that only makes you itch for something sharper.
Then, days later, you find yourself in the apartment lobby, bundled up against the late autumn chill, glaring at a maintenance form on the wall. The hot water’s been out for days, and you’re halfway through filling out a complaint when you hear footsteps behind you. You don’t have to turn around to know who it is—the shift in the air is enough.
"Wow, fancy meeting you here," comes Joe’s voice, smooth and mocking, with just enough bite to make your spine stiffen. You don’t turn around, don’t give him the satisfaction of a reaction. Instead, you keep writing, the pen pressing hard enough against the paper that it almost tears.
"Cold water bothering you too?" he continues when you don’t respond, his tone amused. You can feel him looming behind you, a little too close, and you grit your teeth, willing yourself to stay calm.
"Just trying to get it fixed," you reply curtly, finally turning around and catching the cocky smirk tugging at his lips. You’re not in the mood for whatever game he’s about to play, but of course, he’s not about to let you off that easy. His gaze slides from the form in your hand back up to your face, one eyebrow quirking up in that infuriating way that always makes you want to wipe the smugness off his face.
"Surprised you’re handling it yourself," Joe drawls, his eyes bright with something almost like delight. "Thought you'd get your little boyfriend to do it for you."
Your fingers tighten around the pen, and you force yourself to take a breath, ignoring the way your pulse quickens. "Not everything revolves around Wes," you shoot back, but your voice wavers just enough to make Joe’s smirk widen. His eyes flick over your face, and you hate the way he seems to read every expression, every crack in the mask you’re struggling to hold up.
"Really?" he says, the word heavy with skepticism. He crosses his arms over his chest, leaning back against the wall like he’s settling in for a show. "Could’ve fooled me. He’s got you wrapped around his little finger, huh? I bet you’re the perfect, supportive girlfriend." His voice drips with sarcasm, and something inside you snaps.
"Shut up, Joe," you hiss, your voice low and dangerous. You turn back to the form, determined to ignore him, but he doesn’t move. In fact, he leans in closer, his breath warm on your ear.
"Why?" he murmurs, his voice soft but taunting, like he’s got all the time in the world. "Hit a nerve?"
You don’t answer. You can’t. Because the truth is, he did hit a nerve. And he knows it.
"Come on," he pushes, a note of genuine curiosity in his tone now. "Don’t you ever get tired of it? Playing nice, doing everything right, sticking with someone who’s… I dunno, safe?"
You spin around, eyes blazing, and Joe’s face lights up with triumph. "You don’t know anything about him," you snap, but there’s a waver in your voice that makes Joe’s eyes narrow with interest. "Wes is kind, and he’s decent, and he actually cares about people, which is a hell of a lot more than I can say for you."
Joe’s smile doesn’t falter. In fact, it only grows wider, almost wolfish, and you hate that it sends a thrill through you, a charge that leaves your heart racing. "Yeah," he says, his tone almost pitying, "he’s safe. Boring. He’s exactly the kind of guy who’d never get in your way, never challenge you, never push back. And you’re happy with that? Really?"
You glare at him, your blood boiling, but you can’t look away. Because some part of you—the part you’ve been trying to silence for days—knows he’s right, and it makes you want to scream. "What the hell is your problem, Joe?" you demand, your voice shaking with anger. "Why do you even care? What does it matter to you if I’m with him or not?"
For a moment, something flickers in Joe’s eyes, something you can’t quite read, but it’s gone as quickly as it appears, replaced by that infuriating smirk. "I don’t care," he says, too quickly, his voice a little too smooth. "I just think it’s funny, that’s all. Watching you pretend like he’s enough for you."
You step closer without realizing it, your fists clenched at your sides. "You don’t know what you’re talking about," you insist, but it sounds weak, even to your own ears. Joe’s gaze drops to your lips for a split second, and you feel a jolt of something hot and dangerous twist in your stomach.
"Don’t I?" he murmurs, and suddenly, you’re standing toe-to-toe, your breath mingling with his, the tension between you crackling like a live wire. He’s so close, close enough that you can see the flecks of gold in his eyes, the way his smirk softens just enough to be dangerous.
You don’t move. Neither does he.
There’s a beat, a moment suspended in time where it feels like the whole world has narrowed down to just the two of you, the weight of everything unsaid hanging heavy in the air. Then, suddenly, Joe’s expression shifts, a slow, satisfied grin spreading across his face as he leans back, breaking the spell. He claps you on the shoulder, his touch light but lingering.
"Good talk," he says, his tone infuriatingly cheerful as he pushes past you towards the elevator, leaving you standing there, breathless and rattled.
"Have fun with Wes," he throws over his shoulder, and the door slides shut behind him before you can find the words to reply. You’re left staring at the closed elevator doors, your chest heaving and your hands still trembling around the pen, the echoes of Joe’s taunting voice ricocheting in your mind.
And for the first time in days, the silence feels even louder.
The days drag by, and every one of them feels heavier, weighed down by Joe's words. They hang over you, echoing whenever you try to ignore them, seeping into your thoughts when you're with Wes. The way he holds your hand, the way he smiles politely at your jokes, the way he never raises his voice or teases you too hard—it’s all safe. It’s what you thought you wanted. But now, thanks to Joe, it’s all starting to feel empty, like a shell with nothing inside.
As if to make matters worse, Joe's been louder, more present, and more irritating than ever. He’s upped his game, bringing a new girl home almost every night, the kind who giggle just a little too loud in the stairwell, whose heels click sharply against the tile floors, waking you and Ella up in the middle of the night. You hear them laughing through the paper-thin walls, their voices carrying long after you wish they’d shut up. Ella throws a pillow at the wall one night, groaning in frustration, but you just lie there, staring up at the dark ceiling, the annoyance mixing with something else—something you refuse to name.
And then Wes’s birthday sneaks up on you, like a storm you’d been pretending not to see on the horizon. Everyone's talking about it—the party of the semester, hosted at his parents’ mansion on the outskirts of Baton Rouge. You know it’s a big deal. Wes’s parents are the kind who throw events instead of parties, the kind where everyone’s wearing their best, and you’d feel out of place if you weren’t on Wes’s arm. You spend way too long picking out your dress, ignoring Ella’s teasing smile as you change twice and then settle on something classy, something you think Wes’s parents will approve of.
The mansion is even more extravagant than you expected. Tall, stately, and glowing with warm light spilling from every window. A string quartet plays softly near the entrance, and there’s enough champagne to drown in. It’s a perfect picture of Southern elegance, the kind of party where everyone’s on their best behavior and no one dares spill a drink on the white marble floors.
You’re almost able to relax, standing with Wes as he introduces you to old friends and relatives, his arm around your waist like you’re some kind of prize. But then, from across the room, you catch sight of someone familiar stepping through the grand double doors, and the air goes still.
Joe. And he’s not alone.
On his arm is a girl who looks like she’s stepped straight out of a beauty magazine—perfect curls cascading down her back, a dress that hugs her curves in all the right places, and a pageant smile that could light up the whole room. She’s everything you’re not: polished, pristine, and undeniably beautiful. And Joe’s leaning in close to her, whispering something that makes her laugh, the sound light and carefree, echoing above the music.
Your heart sinks. You should have known he’d be here. You should have known he’d show up with someone like her.
The moment he walks in, it’s like the temperature drops. You feel him scan the room, his gaze sliding over the crowd until it lands on you. There’s a flicker of recognition, a half-smile that tugs at his lips, and for a second, you swear he’s going to make a beeline for you, but then he turns to his date, all easy charm and confidence.
You look away quickly, swallowing down the hot, bitter twinge of jealousy that rises in your chest. Beside you, Wes is oblivious, laughing with some cousin or another, completely unaware of the storm that’s building in your mind.
The party moves on, but you can't shake the weight in your chest. Every time you turn around, Joe is there—always in your peripheral, laughing with his date or effortlessly sliding into conversations with people he’s never met, commanding attention without even trying. And it’s driving you mad. You hate that he’s here, hate the way his presence seems to seep into every corner of the room, hate that you can’t stop looking for him, even when you don’t mean to.
Wes’s parents announce dinner, and you find yourself at a long table, perfectly set with silverware that you don’t even know how to use properly. Wes is on your left, chatting away, and you force yourself to smile and nod at the right moments, though your gaze keeps drifting over his shoulder. Joe is at the far end of the table, but his eyes meet yours—bright and full of something that feels like a challenge. He raises his glass in your direction, and you don’t miss the way his date practically glows under his attention, leaning into his side.
You grit your teeth, focusing on Wes, who’s completely unaware of the way your stomach is twisting. He’s sweet, attentive, a perfect gentleman, and you wish you could ignore the itch under your skin, the restlessness that grows with each passing minute. But it’s there, burning hotter every time you catch sight of Joe, laughing too loud or leaning in too close to whisper in his date's ear.
By the time dessert is served, you’re practically vibrating with frustration, and Wes’s voice is starting to blur into the background. He’s telling some long-winded story about his summer at the family lake house, but all you can think about is how easy it would be to just walk over to the other end of the table and—
“Hey, you alright?” Wes’s voice breaks through your thoughts, and you force yourself to focus on him, pasting on a smile that feels hollow.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” you lie, reaching for your glass of champagne and taking a sip that burns all the way down. He seems satisfied, squeezing your hand gently under the table, but his touch feels distant, almost suffocating.
And when you glance back at Joe, he’s watching you, his smile sharper than you remember. There’s a glint in his eyes that makes your skin prickle, like he’s waiting for something, like he knows exactly what kind of game he’s playing. His date is still chattering away, oblivious to the way his gaze keeps flicking back to you, like a tether he can’t quite cut loose.
You look away, your face heating, and try to drown out the feeling with another sip of champagne. But it's no use. The night has only just begun, and you already know—it’s going to be a long one.
You escape upstairs, the noise of the party fading as you climb the grand, spiraling staircase. It’s quieter up here, with the muted sound of conversation and laughter drifting up from below, and you can finally breathe a little easier. You’re not even sure what you’re doing—just that you need a break from the suffocating conversation, the polished smiles, and the feeling of being watched. Wes is deep in conversation with a teammate, and it was easy enough to slip away unnoticed. You tell yourself you're only going to the bathroom, but you don’t even bother finding one. You just wander down the hall, hoping to collect yourself, to calm the thudding in your chest.
But then, of course, you see him.
Joe, leaning lazily against the wall at the end of the hallway, like he’s been waiting for you. There’s no sign of his date—she’s probably downstairs, lost in the crowd—but Joe’s here, and he looks too damn comfortable, his tie loosened and his shirt sleeves rolled up. He gives you that infuriating half-smirk the second your eyes meet, like he’s been expecting you. Like he knows you’re going to stop.
“Lost?” he drawls, his voice a low, lazy tease, and you freeze, every muscle in your body going tense.
“No,” you snap, hating the way your heart skips when he pushes off the wall, taking a step closer. “Just getting some air.”
“From Wes?” he asks, eyebrows raising, and you can hear the taunt in his tone, the way he draws out the name like it’s a joke. “Or from this whole perfect little party of his?”
“None of your business,” you shoot back, but he’s closer now, and you hate how your breath catches, how the air between you feels thick and electric. He’s looking at you like he’s stripping away all the layers you’ve put up—the polite smiles, the careful charm—and seeing straight through to the part of you that’s restless and hungry for a fight.
“You know, I can’t tell if you’re actually enjoying yourself,” he says, his voice dropping lower, almost intimate. “Or if you’re just playing the role of ‘good girlfriend’ to make everyone happy.”
“Shut up, Joe,” you warn, but your voice is weaker than you want it to be, and he notices. Of course he notices. He takes another step, and suddenly he’s way too close, the heat of him radiating into the space between you, making it harder to breathe.
“Or is it that Wes is just…too boring for you?” he presses, and something snaps. You step forward, shoving him hard enough to make him stumble back a step, anger flaring white-hot in your chest.
“Why do you care?” you demand, your voice rising. “Why do you always have to ruin everything? You can’t stand seeing me happy, can you? You always have to get in the way—”
“Oh, please,” he cuts you off, his voice sharp with irritation. “Don’t act like I’m the one ruining things. You’re the one who can’t stop looking at me. You’re the one who’s pretending this perfect little relationship is enough for you.”
You don’t even think. You just react, stepping closer, your chest heaving with the force of your anger, your hands curling into fists at your sides. “You don’t know anything about me!” you shout, the words tearing out of you before you can stop them. “You don’t know what I want or what I need, so stop pretending like you have me all figured out!”
He’s laughing now, a low, mocking sound that sets your teeth on edge, and you want to hit him, to scream, to do something to wipe that infuriating smirk off his face. But then he’s had enough. Suddenly, he moves, quick as a flash, and before you can even blink, he’s grabbing you by the waist and hoisting you up as if you weigh nothing, throwing you over his shoulder in one swift, effortless motion.
“Put me down!” you shout, struggling against him, but he just tightens his grip, carrying you down the hall like you’re some kind of rag doll. Your fists beat uselessly against his back, and you’re half-cursing, half-panicking as he ignores you, kicking open the nearest door and stepping inside.
The door slams shut behind him, and you barely register the darkened room—a guest bedroom, dimly lit by the moonlight streaming through the curtains—before he’s setting you down, pressing you up against the wall with a force that steals the breath from your lungs. You’re too stunned to move, your back hitting the cold plaster, and suddenly his body is pinning you there, his hands on either side of your face, caging you in.
“Finally shut you up,” he mutters, his voice rough, and you feel a shiver run down your spine at the way his breath brushes your cheek, hot and fast. His eyes are dark, burning with something you’ve never seen before, and the space between you feels like it’s crackling, alive with an energy that makes your skin prickle and your pulse race.
“Why do you have to be such a—” you start, but he cuts you off, leaning in closer, so close that you can feel the warmth of his chest pressing against yours. His mouth is inches from yours, his lips twisting into a wicked smile.
“Go on,” he taunts, his voice low and dangerous. “Say it. Tell me what you really think.”
You’re breathing hard, your anger warring with something hotter, something that’s been building between you for months, and you can’t stop yourself. “You’re an asshole,” you spit, your hands coming up to shove at his chest, but he doesn’t move. He just leans in, his nose brushing against yours, the air between you thick and suffocating.
“And you,” he says softly, his voice almost gentle, “are a liar.”
You don’t know who moves first—whether it’s him closing the distance or you surging up to meet him—but suddenly his mouth is on yours, hard and desperate, and you’re kissing him back like it’s the only thing you’ve ever wanted. The kiss is furious, full of all the things you can’t say, all the frustration and the longing and the anger that’s been building up for so long it feels like it’s going to explode. His hands are in your hair, his grip almost painful, and you’re clinging to him, pulling him closer, gasping into his mouth as he presses you harder against the wall.
“Tell me you don’t want this,” he whispers against your lips, his breath ragged, and you shake your head, too far gone to think, to lie, to do anything but pull him closer, your nails digging into his shoulders.
“Shut up,” you breathe, and he laughs, the sound vibrating against your skin, before he kisses you again, deeper this time, slower, like he’s savoring the taste of your surrender. The room feels too small, the air too thick, and you know you should stop, you know this is wrong, but you can’t, not when his hands are sliding down your sides, not when his body is pressing into yours, not when he’s kissing you like he’s been waiting for this just as long as you have.
And then, suddenly, it’s too much. You push him away, your breath coming in short, harsh gasps, and he lets you go, stepping back with a grin that’s all arrogance and triumph. Your lips feel swollen, your face flushed, and you hate that you can’t stop looking at him, that you want more even though you know you shouldn’t.
“See?” he says softly, his voice maddeningly smug. “I do know you.”
The words barely have time to leave his mouth before you’re on him again, shoving him away from you, your hands hitting his chest with more force than you intend. He stumbles back a step, a flash of surprise crossing his face before his eyes harden, that infuriating grin vanishing. You’re both breathing hard, the air between you heavy with everything unspoken, with all the sharp words that have been building up since the day you met.
“You don’t know anything!” you snap, your voice cracking, and he just laughs, a short, humorless sound that makes your blood boil.
“You keep saying that,” he shoots back, his voice low and dangerous, “but here you are. Every time, it’s the same thing. You want me to stop? Then say it. Tell me to leave.”
You open your mouth to say exactly that, to tell him to go to hell and stay out of your life, but the words won’t come. They catch in your throat, tangled up with the truth you can’t face, and he sees it. He always sees it. His gaze softens, something like understanding flickering in those dark eyes, and it pisses you off more than anything.
“See?” he murmurs, taking a slow, deliberate step forward. “You can’t. Because you don’t want me to.”
“Shut up,” you whisper, but it’s too late—he’s already crowding into your space, his hand curling around the back of your neck, tilting your face up to his. You hate him for the way he’s looking at you, like he’s unraveling you with a single glance, like he knows exactly how to break you down, and before you can stop yourself, you’re surging up, your hands fisting in his shirt as you kiss him again, harder this time, angrier.
His arms come around you instantly, pulling you closer, and you hate that it feels good, that it feels right, even as you’re pushing against him, your nails digging into his shoulders. It’s a mess of teeth and tongues, the kiss desperate and furious, and you’re drowning in it, in the heat of him, in the way his fingers are tangled in your hair, tugging just enough to make you gasp.
Then the door swings open, and you both jerk apart, your breaths coming in ragged, uneven pants. You barely have time to process what’s happening before you see Ja’Marr standing there, his expression caught somewhere between exasperation and disbelief. He looks at you, then at Joe, and lets out a long, frustrated sigh.
“Really, Joe?” he says, his voice laced with disappointment. “In the middle of Wes’s birthday party? Do you have a death wish or something?”
“Calm down,” Joe says coolly, like he’s not the least bit bothered, his gaze still fixed on you, as if daring you to run. “We were just talking.”
“Yeah,” Ja’Marr scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “Talking, right. Because making out with your teammate’s girl is totally a normal conversation.”
You feel your cheeks burn, and you step back, smoothing down your clothes like you can erase what just happened. “This—this was nothing,” you stammer, trying to ignore the way Joe’s lips curl into a smirk at your flustered tone. “We’re done here.”
Joe just gives you a lazy, almost triumphant smile, like he’s won some unspoken battle, and turns to Ja’Marr with a shrug. “She’s got a mind of her own, you know,” he says, and you want to punch him, to scream, but Ja’Marr just shakes his head, looking equal parts disappointed and resigned.
“Whatever,” Ja’Marr mutters, grabbing Joe’s arm and pulling him out into the hallway. “You need to get your act together. Wes is going to notice if you keep pulling this crap.”
Joe’s eyes flick to you one last time, something unreadable in his expression, before he lets Ja’Marr drag him away. The door clicks shut behind them, and you’re left alone in the darkened room, your heart racing and your thoughts spinning out of control. You know you should follow them, that you should go back downstairs and pretend like nothing happened, but your knees feel weak, and it takes you a long moment to gather yourself, to steady your breathing.
By the time you make your way back down to the party, your face feels numb, and you’ve forced on the brightest smile you can muster. Joe is already back in the thick of things, his arm slung casually around his date’s waist, laughing like he doesn’t have a care in the world. You want to be angry, to hate him for making it look so easy, but then Wes catches sight of you, his eyes lighting up as he excuses himself from his conversation.
“Hey, there you are!” he says, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pressing a quick kiss to your temple. You try to smile, but it feels fake, like your skin doesn’t fit right anymore. “Where’d you disappear to?”
“Just needed a minute,” you say, your voice sounding hollow even to your own ears. You’re about to say something else, anything to fill the awkward silence, when you catch movement out of the corner of your eye.
Joe’s watching you, his gaze flicking from your face to your mouth, and that’s when you realize—his lips are still stained with the faintest trace of your lipstick, a dark, telltale smear at the corner of his mouth.
Wes follows your gaze, and his smile falters, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Joe, what’s on your—”
But Joe cuts in smoothly, wiping the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, his grin widening as if he finds the whole thing hilarious. “Guess I got a little carried away,” he says, his voice dripping with mock innocence, and you feel the ground sway beneath you as Wes’s arm tightens around your shoulders, his confusion shifting to suspicion.
“What’s he talking about?” Wes asks, his eyes narrowing, and you open your mouth to respond, to deny, to do something—but nothing comes out. Your voice has abandoned you, and all you can do is stand there, frozen, as Joe’s smirk deepens and he lifts his drink in a mocking toast, his gaze never leaving yours.
“Good party,” Joe says casually, his tone almost friendly. “Really enjoyed myself.”
You don’t remember what happens next—just the blur of faces, the noise of the party swelling around you, and the hollow ache settling deep in your chest as Joe turns away, laughing with someone else, like he hasn’t just blown everything to pieces.
Wes's smile is strained when he pulls you aside, away from the music and the crowd. There’s a tightness around his eyes you haven’t seen before, something almost defeated, and for the first time that night, you feel a genuine pang of guilt. This is the part you were dreading—the confrontation, the disappointment in his eyes. But instead of yelling, instead of demanding an explanation, he just looks... tired.
“Hey,” he starts softly, rubbing the back of his neck, his eyes dropping to the floor. “I don’t wanna make a scene, okay? But I think... I think maybe you should go.”
You open your mouth to respond, but the words die in your throat. There’s no anger in his voice, just resignation, like he already knows the answer before you can even try to lie. You can’t tell if that makes it better or worse.
“Wes, I—” you begin, but he holds up a hand, a weak, defeated smile pulling at his lips.
“It’s okay,” he interrupts, and there’s something achingly kind in his voice, which somehow makes it hurt more. “I think we both know this... isn’t what you want. Not really.”
You feel relief flood your chest so suddenly that it’s almost nauseating, and that’s how you know he’s right. Because instead of being devastated, instead of scrambling to explain yourself, you just feel lighter. Like a weight you didn’t realize you were carrying has finally been lifted.
You reach out to touch his arm, but he steps back, shaking his head. “Don’t,” he says quietly, and you let your hand drop, nodding numbly. There’s nothing left to say. You don’t try to apologize; you don’t try to make excuses. You just turn and leave, the buzz of the party fading behind you as you slip out the front door, the cold night air hitting you like a slap.
The walk back to the apartment feels like a blur, your mind whirling with everything that just happened, everything you don’t want to think about. You don’t know if it’s the relief of being free from something you never truly wanted, or the shame of how it all went down, but by the time you reach your building, your hands are trembling and your breath is hitching.
You let yourself into the apartment, your eyes already burning with unshed tears, and you find Ella curled up on the couch, half-asleep in front of the TV. The moment she sees your face, though, she sits up, worry creasing her brow.
“Whoa, what happened?” she asks, her voice thick with sleep, but you don’t even know where to begin.
“Everything,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper, and then it all spills out. You tell her everything—about Joe, about the kiss, about Wes’s sad, tired smile and the way he let you go without a fight. You’re talking so fast you’re stumbling over your words, your emotions a chaotic tangle of regret and relief and frustration, and by the time you’re finished, you feel completely wrung out.
Ella listens without interrupting, her expression shifting from shock to disbelief to sympathy as you pour your heart out. When you finally go quiet, she just sighs and pulls you into a hug, squeezing you so tight you can barely breathe.
“I’m sorry,” she murmurs, and you don’t realize how much you needed to hear that until the tears start falling. She doesn’t tell you that you screwed up, she doesn’t lecture you about Joe, she just holds you while you cry, rubbing soothing circles on your back until the tears run dry.
By the time you pull away, your throat is raw, and you’re exhausted. Ella doesn’t say anything, just gives you a look that says she understands, that she’s on your side no matter what, and that’s enough. It’s more than enough.
But then, just as you’re wiping your eyes and trying to compose yourself, you hear it—a loud burst of laughter echoing through the thin wall you share with Joe’s apartment. It’s followed by the high-pitched giggle of a girl, and your stomach twists. Of course. Of course.
Ella catches the look on your face and scowls. “He’s such an ass,” she mutters, rolling her eyes. “You want me to go bang on the wall and tell them to shut up?”
“No,” you say quickly, shaking your head. “It’s... it’s fine. Let’s just go to bed.”
You don’t even believe yourself, but you can’t deal with Joe right now, not after everything. So you go to your room, shut the door, and try to block out the noise. You tell yourself you don’t care. You tell yourself it’s over. But sleep doesn’t come easily, and all you can hear is Joe’s voice in your head, his mocking words echoing long after the sounds from next door have finally gone quiet.
Over the next few days, you try to fall back into a routine, but everything feels off-kilter. Wes doesn’t text you, and you don’t reach out, letting the silence stretch between you until it feels like a mutual understanding—something that was always going to happen. Ella hovers, supportive but careful not to push, and you appreciate that. You just need space, time to sort through everything.
Joe, however, is a different story.
You barely see him around the complex, but when you do, it’s impossible to ignore him. He’s still bringing home girls—more than ever, it seems—and they’re always loud, obnoxiously so, like he’s doing it on purpose, like he’s rubbing it in your face. And maybe he is. Maybe this is his way of proving a point, of showing you that he doesn’t care, that he never cared, and the worst part is... you don’t know if you care either. Or maybe you care too much.
One night, after a particularly sleepless stretch of listening to laughter and footsteps pounding through the walls, Ella finds you staring blankly at the ceiling, dark circles smudged beneath your eyes.
“He’s doing this on purpose, you know,” she says bluntly, her tone halfway between irritation and pity. “He’s trying to get to you.”
“Yeah, well,” you mutter, rolling over to face the wall. “It’s working.”
Wes’s birthday party fades into memory, and a few weeks pass. It’s easier to pretend you don’t care when you don’t have to face the fallout. You focus on classes, avoid places where you might run into Joe, and try to ignore the way your heart sinks every time you hear his voice next door.
Then, one Friday night, there’s a knock on your door. You’re half expecting Ella’s latest Tinder date or a package, but instead, you find Joe leaning against the doorframe, his usual cocky grin nowhere in sight. There’s something almost hesitant about the way he looks at you, and for a second, you don’t know what to say.
“Hey,” he says, his voice softer than you’ve ever heard it, and it catches you off guard.
“What do you want?” you ask, and you hate how defensive you sound, how you can’t help but put a wall between you.
Joe’s eyes flicker, and he shoves his hands in his pockets, glancing down the hallway before he looks back at you. “Can we talk?” he asks, and you can’t tell if he’s asking because he wants to or because he thinks he has to. “Please?”
You hesitate, every part of you screaming to slam the door in his face, to tell him to go to hell. “Talk?” you echo, as though the very idea is laughable. “What’s there to talk about, Joe?”
He shifts uncomfortably, his hands still deep in his pockets. “I just—” He sighs, running a hand through his hair. For once, he doesn’t look cocky or composed. He looks tired. “I screwed up, okay? I know that. And I just… I want to make things right.”
You laugh bitterly, shaking your head. “Now you care about making things right? Weeks later? Where was this when you were busy humiliating me in front of everyone at Wes’s party?”
Joe flinches, and the sight of it sends a small, mean thrill through you. You want him to feel every ounce of the anger and hurt that’s been simmering inside you since that night.
“I was drunk,” he mutters, like it’s an excuse. “You know I didn’t mean half the shit I said.”
“Oh, so you only mean half of it?” Your voice rises despite yourself, and you take a step closer. “Which half, Joe? The part where you said Wes was too good for me? Or the part where you implied I’m some kind of charity case?”
Joe groans, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “That’s not what I meant! You’re twisting it—”
“I’m twisting it?” Your laugh is sharp, humorless. “No, Joe. I’m finally calling you out on your crap. You think you can just waltz in here, throw out a half-assed apology, and I’m supposed to forget how you treated me? Newsflash: I’m done being your punching bag.”
“Punching bag?” His voice spikes, and you can see his patience starting to fray. “Are you kidding me? You think I don’t care about you? That I’d say that stuff to hurt you on purpose?”
“Then why did you say it?” you snap, stepping closer until you’re almost toe to toe. “Why, Joe? If you care so much, why do you always find a way to make me feel like I’m not enough?”
He stares at you, his jaw tightening, his chest rising and falling as he tries to keep his temper in check. But then he snaps, his voice loud enough to make you flinch. “Because you drive me crazy, alright? You’re in my head all the damn time, and it’s like I can’t think straight when I’m around you!”
You’re stunned into silence, your heart pounding in your chest. The air between you crackles with something electric, something you can’t name but can feel in every nerve of your body.
Joe’s eyes are blazing, his chest heaving as he takes a step closer. “You think I wanted this? That I wanted to feel like this about you? I didn’t, okay? But I do. And it scares the hell out of me.”
You swallow hard, your throat dry. “Joe…”
He shakes his head, his voice softening just a fraction. “I’m sorry, alright? For all of it. I just—I didn’t know how to deal with this, with you.”
You don’t know who moves first, but suddenly, the space between you is gone. Joe’s hands are on your arms, his grip firm but not rough, and you’re looking up at him, your breath catching in your throat.
Joe doesn’t step back. He doesn’t let the anger rise again. He stays close, his hands still resting on your arms, his grip grounding and firm. His gaze softens, something vulnerable breaking through the tension in his voice.
“You think I like being the guy who gets under your skin?” he asks, his voice low, but there’s no bite to it now. Only honesty. “You think I enjoy pissing you off just for fun?”
You stare at him, caught off guard by the sudden shift, the rawness in his tone. “Don’t you?”
Joe lets out a sharp exhale, shaking his head. “No. That’s just the only way you ever seem to notice me.” His words hit like a punch to the gut, and your breath hitches. “If I’m not in your face, annoying the hell out of you, it’s like I don’t even exist to you.”
You open your mouth to argue, but nothing comes out. He’s too quick, too honest, and you don’t have a defense ready for the truth.
“That’s why I invite them over,” he continues, and there’s no cockiness in the admission. Just exhaustion. “Those girls, the loud music, the stupid games—it’s not because I want them. It’s because I’m trying to get you to see me. To pay attention. Even if it’s just so you can yell at me.”
Your stomach twists, a lump forming in your throat. You want to stay mad, to cling to your anger like a shield, but it’s slipping through your fingers. Joe doesn’t stop; he steps closer, so close now that you can feel the heat radiating off him.
“I don’t know how else to get through to you,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. “And I’m tired, okay? I’m tired of pretending like I don’t care when I do. So much more than I should.”
Your breath catches, and your heart pounds in your chest like a drum. You don’t know what to say, what to feel. Joe watches you, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips, his hesitation palpable. And then, before you can process what’s happening, his lips are on yours.
It’s not rough or demanding like you might have expected. It’s soft, tentative, as if he’s afraid you’ll pull away. His hands slide from your arms to your waist, anchoring you gently, and you can feel the tension in his body as he holds back.
For a moment, you freeze, torn between the urge to push him away and the overwhelming need to lean into him. But then your walls crack, and you kiss him back, your hands clutching at the front of his shirt as if it’s the only thing keeping you grounded.
Joe pulls back just enough to look at you, his forehead resting against yours. His breathing is unsteady, his expression a mix of relief and something deeper. Without a word, he steps forward, his hands tightening around your waist as he gently pushes you through the door.
You don’t resist. You can’t.
He closes the door behind him with a quiet click, then sweeps you off your feet in one swift, effortless motion. You let out a small gasp, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck as he carries you down the hall toward your bedroom.
“Joe…” you begin, but he silences you with a look—a look so tender, so unlike the Joe you thought you knew, that your words die on your lips.
By the time he lays you down on the bed, the anger and frustration from moments ago have evaporated, replaced by something else entirely. Something that hums between you like a live wire.
He hovers over you, his weight supported by his arms on either side of your head. His eyes search yours, silently asking for permission, for understanding. And when you nod, so small and uncertain, he dips his head to kiss you again, this time deeper, more sure of himself.
Your hands find their way to his hair, tugging gently as he trails his lips down your jaw, your neck, every touch making your pulse race. He’s careful, almost reverent, as if afraid to break the fragile moment you’re sharing.
And for the first time, you let yourself believe that maybe—just maybe—Joe Burrow isn’t the selfish, cocky guy you thought he was. Maybe, behind all the bravado, he’s just a boy who wanted you to see him. And now, you finally do.
Joe’s lips trail along the curve of your neck, leaving a warm, electric path in their wake. He takes his time, his breath hot against your skin, and every deliberate touch makes your pulse thunder louder in your ears.
His hands glide over your waist, fingers pressing lightly, almost teasing as they trace the hem of your shirt. You feel his smile against your neck when you squirm slightly beneath him, a soft laugh rumbling in his chest.
“You’re quiet all of a sudden,” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing. “No more yelling? No smart remarks?”
You swallow hard, trying to find some semblance of control, but the way his hands move, the way his lips hover so close yet don’t quite touch, leaves you breathless. “Maybe I just don’t have anything to say to you right now,” you shoot back, though your voice wavers.
Joe chuckles, lifting his head to look at you, his blue eyes glinting with mischief. “Oh, I don’t believe that for a second,” he says, his thumb brushing over the strip of skin where your shirt has ridden up. “You’ve always got something to say to me. Even if it’s just to tell me to fuck off.”
You glare at him, but it’s half-hearted, your resolve crumbling as he dips his head again, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “I like it when you get all fired up,” he whispers, his tone teasing. “But I think I like this quiet side of you even more.”
You huff, trying to ignore the way your body betrays you, leaning into him despite yourself. “You’re so full of yourself.”
Joe smirks, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze. His hand slides under your shirt, fingers grazing your skin, and you shiver at the contact. “Maybe,” he admits, his tone smug, “but you’re still here, aren’t you?”
You want to retort, to wipe that cocky grin off his face, but before you can, he shifts his weight, his lips capturing yours again. This time, the kiss is slower, deeper, and you feel the teasing edge in his movements as he kisses you until you forget whatever comeback you had planned.
His fingers inch higher, tracing light patterns on your stomach, deliberately avoiding the places where you want him most. It’s infuriating, how easily he has you unraveling, and when he pulls back just enough to smirk down at you, you let out an exasperated groan.
“You’re infuriating,” you mutter, tugging at his shirt in frustration.
Joe leans down, his nose brushing against yours, his lips curling into a playful grin. “But you’re not telling me to stop.”
He shifts again, his hands sliding up to frame your face as he kisses you once more. His lips are soft but insistent, drawing you in until all you can focus on is him—his weight pressing you into the mattress, the warmth of his skin, the way his touch sets every nerve in your body alight.
“Say the word,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice soft but laced with a challenge. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”
You stare up at him, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. But the word never comes. Instead, you pull him down again, your fingers threading through his hair as you kiss him with all the pent-up frustration, anger, and longing that’s been building between you for weeks.
Joe groans softly, his hands sliding down your sides, his teasing touch giving way to something more intentional. “That’s what I thought,” he murmurs against your lips, his tone smug but laced with something warmer, something that makes your stomach flip.
Joe's lips find yours again, the kiss deepening as his teasing facade begins to slip. His hands roam your body with more purpose now, fingertips pressing into your skin like he’s memorizing every curve. He nips lightly at your bottom lip, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“Still hate me?” he whispers, his voice low and rough, sending a shiver down your spine. He moves back slowly, before pulling off your leggings, his eyes never leaving yours.
You bite back a moan, refusing to give him the satisfaction of an answer. Instead, you pull him closer, your nails grazing the back of his neck, and the quiet groan he lets out is enough to make your pulse race.
The leggings are long forgotten now, leaving you exposed in your underwear. Joe chuckles softly, his breath fanning against your lips as he trails kisses along your jaw, then lower, his teeth scraping lightly against the sensitive skin of your neck. His tongue follows, soothing the faint sting, and the combination has your hands fisting in his shirt.
“You’re not as tough as you act, you know,” he teases, his voice dripping with amusement. His hands slide beneath your shirt, his palms warm against your bare skin as he pushes the fabric up slowly. “I think you like this way more than you’re letting on.”
“You talk too much,” you manage to gasp, but your retort loses its bite when his thumb grazes just beneath your ribs, sending a rush of heat through your body.
Joe pulls back just enough to tug your shirt over your head, tossing it carelessly to the side. He takes a moment to look at you, his blue eyes dark and filled with something you can’t quite name, and for a second, the teasing smirk is gone, replaced by something softer.
“You’re so damn beautiful,” he murmurs, almost to himself, and the sincerity in his voice catches you off guard.
Your breath hitches, and you feel your cheeks flush under his gaze. Before you can overthink it, his lips are on you again, softer this time but no less insistent. His hands trace slow, deliberate patterns along your sides, his thumbs brushing just beneath the band of your bra, and you arch into his touch without meaning to.
Joe grins against your skin, clearly pleased with your reaction. “That’s more like it,” he murmurs, his lips trailing lower as he presses kisses down your neck, across your collarbone, and then to the edge of the fabric.
He pauses, glancing up at you as his fingers toy with the clasp, his expression both playful and questioning. “Tell me if you want me to stop,” he says again, his tone softer now, without the usual cockiness.
But stopping is the furthest thing from your mind. Instead, you pull him down to you, your lips crashing into his with a fervor that answers his unspoken question.
Joe groans against your mouth, his hands moving to unclasp your bra with surprising ease, and you feel the shift in his demeanor as his teasing gives way to something more raw, more urgent. His lips trail lower, leaving a path of heat in their wake, and every deliberate touch has your body humming with anticipation.
“Still hate me?” he asks again, his voice rough and teasing, but there’s a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes as he looks up at you.
You reach for him, your fingers threading through his hair as you pull him closer. “Shut up, Joe,” you whisper, your voice breathless but firm, and for once, he listens.
Joe's smirk returns, but it’s softer now, laced with something warmer than his usual arrogance. He lets out a quiet laugh, the sound low and full of disbelief, as if he can’t quite believe where the night has led. But he doesn’t argue. Instead, he lets his lips and hands do the talking, his touch reverent but still filled with that undeniable fire that seems to burn between you.
He slowly pulls away, looking up at you with a small smirk before he gets up. Before you could start questioning him, he takes off his shirt and sweats swiftly, your eyes widening at his body.
Joe’s smirk deepens as he catches the way your eyes widen, lingering on his toned frame. His confidence seems to grow with every second you stay silent, your gaze betraying the sharp tongue you usually use to deflect him. He steps closer, his movements slow and deliberate, as if giving you time to drink him in.
“You’re staring,” he teases, his voice low and teasing, though his eyes burn with something more primal. “I knew you liked looking at me, but this is a new level.”
You roll your eyes, but the heat rushing to your cheeks gives you away. “Don’t flatter yourself,” you mutter, trying to sound dismissive, but your voice wavers slightly, betraying the effect he has on you.
Joe chuckles, leaning down to brace his hands on either side of you, his face inches from yours. “Too late for that,” he says, his tone dripping with satisfaction. “You’ve already done it for me.”
Before you can fire back, he trails his hand down your side, fingers skimming over your waist and hip with maddening slowness. He presses a kiss to your collarbone, then another to the swell of your chest, each one softer than the last, as if he’s savoring the way you shiver beneath his touch.
You can feel his hardened bulge against your stomach, and you're just about done with his teasing. You need him, now. “Joe,” you whined as he pulls back with a smirk.
“You drive me crazy, you know that?” he says, his voice low and raw. “But I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
Before you can reply, his lips are on yours again, his kiss stealing whatever snarky comeback you might have had. His hands move with purpose, sliding over every inch of bare skin, and the slow, deliberate way he touches you has your body aching for more.
“Tell me to stop,” he whispers against your lips, the words a quiet challenge. But you don’t. You can’t.
Instead, you pull him closer, your fingers tangling in his hair as you kiss him with all the frustration and longing you’ve been holding back for weeks. Joe groans, the sound vibrating against your lips as his teasing slips away entirely, replaced by something deeper, more desperate.
“God, you’re impossible,” he mutters, his voice laced with both exasperation and awe. But his actions betray the truth—he wouldn’t have it any other way.
He finally pulls away, breathless as he gazes down at you, his eyes filled with adoration and lust. “I'm gonna fuck you, alright?” he mutters before leaning closer. “And for all those times you pissed me off, and annoyed me, I'll forget about all of that if I can just... hear you.”
You're caught off by the request and you almost think he's joking, but you're mistaken. He's dead serious. All you could was nod slowly in response and Joe leans away, pleased.
Joe’s control starts to slip, and it’s evident in the way his kisses grow hungrier, more urgent. His hands tremble slightly as they trail over your body, mapping out every curve like he’s afraid this moment will disappear. He pulls back just enough to look at you, his pupils blown wide and his breathing uneven.
“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he whispers, his voice raw, the cocky edge completely gone. “You’ve been driving me insane for months.”
Then finally, he slowly peels off his briefs, and his large, hardened cock falls out.
Joe lets out a small groan as his head falls back, relief in his expression. His pink tip is already leaking with pre-cum. You practically faint at the sight, you couldn't help but let out a whimper. His hands find his cock before he slowly begins to pump it, his eyes finding yours again.
He spreads your legs open before leaning in, his lips finding yours as his hands lead his cock to your cunt. His forehead falls against yours as he slowly begins to insert himself, a heavenly groan leaving his lips at the feeling of your warm, tight walls.
You felt like you were being split in half, in the best way possible. You can't even describe how good his cock felt, he wasn't even a quarter inside of you, but you still felt like you were filled to the brim.
“O-oh, fuck, Joey,” you moaned as your swollen lips form an O, your head falling back onto the plush pillows. Now you understood why the girls in his apartment were so loud—they definitely weren't exaggerating.
His hands grip your hips firmly, pulling you closer as if he wasn't inside of you already. His lips crash against yours again, the kiss filled with desperation, like he’s trying to pour every suppressed emotion into it. It’s intoxicating, the way his need for you feels almost overwhelming, and you find yourself clutching at his shoulders, wanting to be as close as possible.
He bottoms you out slowly, and he tries to give you a second to adjust—he really, really tried. He just couldn't. He slowly started thrusting in and out of you, and before you could even process the change in speed, he was rocking his hips against yours like the world depended on it.
The bed was creaking loudly underneath the two of you, the only sounds that could be heard was your loud moans, his grunts of pleasure, and the sound of skin against skin.
His cock was dizzying, to say the least. It hit all the spots you swore nobody had ever reached, making you question all your previous partners. You couldn't even form a singular thought about anything else except for Joe's huge cock and the way he was making you feel.
“Joe!” You manage to gasp as he begins to pound into you impossibly harder, but he cuts you off with another kiss, groaning softly against your lips.
“Say my name again,” he demands, his voice husky and edged with desperation. He leans down, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your jaw and down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin in a way that makes you gasp as his hands spread your legs wider, pinning you to the mattress.
Before you can respond, his lips are on yours again, his kisses growing more frantic, more needy. His hands are everywhere, exploring, worshipping, as if he’s afraid this moment might slip away. The way he touches you, the way he whispers your name like a prayer, leaves you utterly undone.
His words make your head spin, and you can’t find a response. You're too caught up in the way he was pounding into you, like a fucking animal.
But Joe doesn’t seem to care; he’s too caught up in you, his hips moving faster and faster until you're practically crying out loud. His hands roam your body as if he’s memorizing every curve, every inch of skin. There’s no pretense now, no games—just raw, unfiltered desire.
You begin to feel the knot in your stomach begin to form, tight and persistent. You begin to grip his shoulders even tighter, your head falling back into the pillow as you moaned.
“O-oh, fuck! I'm gonna cum, please.” You began rambling as your legs wrapped around his waist, his hips not faltering one bit—if anything, he began going faster.
“Yeah? Gonna cum for me, pretty girl?” He grunted out, his own impending orgasm. “Cum for me, baby.”
That was all you needed. The knot in your stomach snapped violently, your whole body spasming as you cried out in utter pleasure. The orgasm washed over you perfectly as Joe's hips began to falter, and a few moments later, his cum spilled into you.
You both lie there, tangled in the sheets, your breathing ragged and your hearts racing as the room settles into a heavy, satisfied silence. Joe’s arm is draped lazily across your stomach, his fingers tracing light, absentminded patterns on your skin. The intimacy feels different now—softer, quieter, as if the storm that had built between you for so long had finally passed.
He exhales deeply, his chest still rising and falling against your side. “Well,” he says, his voice low and hoarse, “that was... long overdue.”
You glance over at him, your lips twitching into a faint smile despite yourself. “You think?” you reply dryly, the lingering warmth of the moment making it hard to muster the sharp edge your tone usually carries with him.
Joe turns his head to look at you, his hair mussed and sticking out in every direction, his cheeks still flushed. There’s that cocky grin of his, but it’s softer now, tinged with something you don’t think you’ve seen before—contentment, maybe. “Yeah,” he says, chuckling lightly. “So overdue I’m almost mad at us for waiting this long.”
You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the laugh that escapes you. His grin widens as he props himself up on one elbow, leaning over you. His gaze flicks across your face, and he reaches out, brushing a strand of hair away from your cheek. “But hey,” he says, his voice taking on a playful tone, “now that I’ve finally got you right where I want you, I think it’s time to make this official.”
Your brow furrows slightly as you tilt your head at him. “Official?”
Joe nods solemnly, though the sparkle in his eyes gives him away. “Yup. A real date. No fighting, no yelling, no storming off. Just you, me, and a public setting where we try very hard not to tear each other’s clothes off.”
You snort, shoving his shoulder lightly. “Oh, is that so?”
“That’s so,” he replies with a grin, catching your hand and intertwining his fingers with yours. His thumb brushes over your knuckles, his gaze softening. “Come on, let me take you out. I’ll even behave. Swear.”
You arch a skeptical brow, though the warmth in your chest betrays you. “Behave? You? I’ll believe it when I see it.”
Joe leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment. “Guess you’ll just have to say yes and find out,” he murmurs, his voice teasing but undeniably sincere.
You roll your eyes again, but there’s no hiding the small smile that tugs at your lips. “Fine,” you say, trying to sound reluctant but failing miserably. “One date. But if you embarrass me, it’s the last one.”
Joe’s grin is blinding as he flops back down beside you, pulling you against his chest. “Deal,” he says, his voice full of triumph. “You won’t regret it. Best date of your life, guaranteed.”
You shake your head, laughing softly. “You’re impossible.”
“And you love it,” he counters, his tone smug as his hand tightens around yours.
Maybe, just maybe, he’s right.
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#jb5#nfl fic#nfl football#nfl lb#nfl imagine#joe burrow bengals#cincinnati bengals#joeyb#joe burrow fan fic#joe burrow smut#joe burrow imagine#joe burrow x reader#joe burrow#joe burrow x you#joe burrow x y/n#joe burrow x oc
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Injury! -- Joe Burrow
Summary: Joe was away for a game and you couldn't go as he was gone you got hurt. You was freaking out but also worry to tell Joe as he at a game.
Word Count: 744
Slightly injury you, head injury, little blood , just Joe worry and fluffy
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Joe was at an away game and You had gone to a store to buy some decorations for their apartment. You just came back and set the bags on the table. You knew it was smart to wait for Joe to come home but You didn't want to wait another whole day for him to return. You start taking all the things you got and lay it out on the table. It was a little early to start putting Christmas things out but You couldn't help yourself.
You went to the garage to look for some nails and Joe’s hammer he kept here. Soon You find the hammer and nails and go back to the kitchen. You grab the Christmas Gnome and walk to the living room to put the nail in the wall and hang them up. Soon you walk back in the kitchen and grab the christmas garland and you glaze at the cabinet. “I should wait for him.” You told yourself but you being stubborn You don't listen.
You take your shoes off and only have socks on and climb on the counter and stand up on it. You look down. “Not too high I should be fine.” You said to yourself. You start putting the nail in the wall and grab the garland. You get on your tiptoes to hook the garland on the nail. When your foot slips off and you crash onto the floor head hitting the edge of the counter. You lightly groan, touch your head feeling wetness on your hand.
You start looking around feeling dizzy, slowly grab the counter to help you stand up. You grabbed a rag and got it wet with cold water. Press it on your head. You stay leaning on the counter with the rag on your head when your phone rings. You slowly dig it out your pocket seeing it was Jeo who was calling. “I swear he has super power and calls at the wrong time.” You softled said as you answered it.
You hear his voice didn't sound cheerful, must have had a bad game. “After that game I need your voice.” You swallow. He started to explain what happened but it was making your head hurt more so you cut him off. “I did something stupid.” It got quiet on his end. Soon he says “What you did Y/N” You look up at the half hanging garland. “Might try to hang some garland in the kitchen and slip and hit my head.” You talk slowly.
It got quiet again but you can hear he was getting up from the hotel bed. You hear him picking things up. Maybe his bag. “Joe?” Joe signs. “Didn't I tell you if you wanna hang something make sure I was home. So I can help so we can skip the whole injury park Y/N. Look, I'm on my way home. Clearly your stubborn ass doesn't understand when I talk. You're gonna listen now. Forget the damn garland and lay down just not flat.i be there in an hour or so.” You nodded even if he can’t see it. He hung up after.
This is why you hated that he called right after you fell. Were you gonna tell him no, maybe tomorrow when he was home. But that was so out of the bag. You knew it was better to listen to him and go lay down. You slowly walk to the couch and lay down on it. The rag lay on your head.
About an hour or two you hear the front getting unlocked and open. You hear his footsteps walk in. He puts his bag down and he walks over kneeling by the couch. He moved the rag. “Hey there, stubborn girl that I love.” You just groan and sit up. He helps you sit up, putting his hand on your back. “How your head darling” He asks as you lean your head on his shoulder. “Dizzy stops and the pain is not too bad.” Joe kisses your head lightly. “Maybe you learn your lesson and let me do the hanging when it comes to Christmas. Rather not have my girlfriend hurt over Christmas crap.” His arm wraps around you as you mumbles “good idea.” you snuggle against his body. And he gives you another kiss on your head. Getting hurt might have been a good thing, one Joe came home early and second the cuddles.
#joe burrow#nfl#quarterback#football#joe burrow fanfiction#joe burrow x reader#joe burrow imagine#nfl fan fic#nfl imagine#little christmas ish#joey b#him being a teddy bear
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we need something about JOE BURROW!!!!!
Victory Win
pairing: Joe Burrow x fem!reader
warning: eating out, unprotected sex (pls be careful!!), riding, hickeys
Y/N’s POV
I watch the fourth quarter of the Bengals versus Buffalo Bills, I kinda get nervous because the Bengals are three points behind of the Bills. When Joe got the ball he runs to the field goal and the Bengals win the game! I smile and get happy on how the season has been going, I hope they get to the AFC championship.
20 MINUTES LATER
I make Joe’s favorite food for dinner his big win. I hear the door opens and closes so I turned down the stove and walked out of the kitchen to see Joe looking like he took a shower several minutes ago. He drops his bag, I go up to him to wrap my arms around Joe and kiss him, he wraps his arms around me and kisses me back.
“Congratulations on your win.” I say looking up at him.
“Thanks baby.” He says in a deep voice.
“I made you your favorite dinner.” I say about to unwrap my arms but Joe kept his arms around my body.
“I rather have something else.” He whispers in my ear.
I already know what he wants, I kiss him on the lips and he picks me up and takes us to our bedroom. He opens the door with his right foot and lays me down on the bed softly, I giggle, I look up at him and lay my arms above my head as Joe takes his clothes off. He helps me getting my clothes off and he begins to kiss my left leg and I can see him looking at me, I fluff his hair and he starts to shower kiss my left leg as he gets to my clit, he starts to eat me out and makes me gasp and makes me lay my head down on our bed.
We eventually have a hell of a good time having sex. He gives me hickeys all over my neck and chest and I needed him so bad but he kept on teasing me.
“Don’t you dare go back down there.” I say stopping him.
“Why’s that Y/N/N?” He smirks.
This bastard. “You know why, I need you inside me.” I whine.
“We’ll see about that.” He says getting back to my clit.
“Joe I-“ I scream as he eats me out again.
I keep on moaning and gasping for air but he kept on going at it. I fucking need him inside me it’s not even funny.
“Joe, I need you inside me please.” I asked him by pulling his head up so he can look at me.
“I just love the way you beg.” He says with a smug smile.
“Just fuck me.” I said.
He gets on top of me and then he begins to fuck me. I scream and I scratch his back but I feel him smirking on my neck, he goes faster to make me scream and moan again. I already know that his teammates are going to tease him by all the scratches all over his back, it’s his fault for being a good fuck.
I couldn’t take it anymore so I flip us over so I can be on top of him.
“What’s this baby?” He questions by having his hands beside his head.
“You’re the one who won the game, I should do something about that.” I pout.
“What’re you going to do?” He leans up to me.
“Maybe ride you.” I pout again.
He smirks, “Ride me Y/N.” He lays down putting his arms behind his head.
I position myself so I can slide myself onto his cock. I begin to ride him, he grabs my waist to guide me through me riding him. He groans, I just giggle and continues. He sit up to face me and he kisses me, I kiss him back, I wrap my arms around his neck, he wraps his arms around my body and I give him some hickeys, he moans. I love this man so much.
We lay in on the bed exhausted.
“That was the best sex I’ve ever had.” I say looking up at the ceiling.
“What about the other times?” He says getting comfortable to look down at me.
I chuckle, each time was really good but I think this time was better than ever.
“About that dinner you made.” He says leaning over me to kiss me.
I kiss him back. I want the Bengals win for now on so I can get this Joe each time.
#fanfic#fanfiction#joe burrow x you#joe burrow x y/n#joe burrow x reader#joe burrow smut#joe burrow x oc#joe burrow imagine#joe burrow#joe burrow fic#joe burrow fan fic#joe burrow series#football smut#cincinnati bengals#joe burrow x fem!reader
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every new yorker needs to know about jury nullification. EVERY NEW YORKER. tell your nona, tell the bus driver, scream it near news reporters. this guy doesn't have to go to jail if you don't want him to.
#i love new york#new york#jury duty#jury nullification#united healthcare#funny#memeculture#shitpost#anime#gaming#au#pokemon#manga#football#fan theory#fast fashion#makeup
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