#friend// joe

[sleepy-meep]

collab with @picnicbask3t :3

[one0p1nk]

Klai’s forcing me to send this to u . I’m sorry that ur son has been depicted as a capitalist boss who made deals with these French people so that they could work for him without him needing to pay them. labour laws 💔💔💔💔

// HELP DJDBDBDBDBDBFB B DV MY SON AND HIS CAPITALIST ARCS HAHAHAH

LOOK AT TINY KLAI WEARING THE SMIRK ON HER FACE AS SHE SIGNS THE CONTRACT FOR THEM DBDBDBBD

WAIT A MINUTE HDBDBDDBB IS THAT ROSALYN IN THE PICTURE FRAME HELP????

Gosh, I love my boi,,,,/lh

[one0p1nk]

//there's a lot of emotions for this post;;; I'm well fed-- 🥺🌸💕

art/wip dump!

cw: poorly shaded gore, body horror, omori spoilers

some of these may be reposted later becuz,, they’re part of a series of drawings

(( laurence belongs to @one0p1nk , phineas and carina belong to @klai-16xoxo ))

[theminecraftbee]

you know i truly think one of my favorite zombiecleo character traits is that like. so she's always neck-deep in whatever nonsense is going on in the server at any given moment. like FULLY involved in the chaos. probably causing a great deal of it, also. and the WHOLE TIME she acts judgemental that other people are doing this nonsense. she's like. man, look at these guys. don't they look stupid? i mean i'm involving myself in the exact same things what do you take me for a square. but still, what fools--

[stoovrs]

wtf kind of debate is this

[krinklefry87]

i was making yttd charm ideas and i drew like 3 different shin and kanna's but i didnt like any of them so i got angry and drew that sprite where he pretends to have amnesia LMAO

[bairdthereader]

There's one in every friend group (and we love them).

Bonus--Confused Nick is confused:

[squad-3]

🫡

[littlematchagirlll]

one of my friends (also a leftist) said that because we live in utah, it doesn't matter who he votes for, and there's no way he will vote for a "fucking cop who was complicit in genocide."

he is telling his friends in utah that they have zero say in who is president, so they shouldn't vote for harris.

and, i love him, but i think that line of thinking is really damaging.

if the stakes were lower for this election, then sure! i'm all in favor of third parties, and i do think that should be more normalized. it would be great to get to a point where we have more viable options than just democrats and republicans.

but this election is against trump. if trump wins, we get project 2025.

this isn't your father's republican party that just wanted to lower taxes and have more free trade. we are looking at rights being taken away for several marginalized communities. major changes that will set us back decades. there is too much on the line, and harris needs every single vote she can get.

saying you won't vote for harris because you live in a red state and don't think your vote will count... like a vote for a third party will??

you're really just saying that you don't mind trump winning, or if you do, you aren't willing to actually do what it takes to stop it.

as for being complicit with the genocide, aren't we all? our tax money is going to the genocide. we are complicit, whether we like it or not.

and harris has openly advocated for a ceasefire! also, do you think trump won't be complicit in the genocide? do you not think he would actively support israel? i'd rather have a president that calls for a ceasefire than one who doesn't. i'd rather have a president who is willing to push back on israel than one who be pushed around by israel.

there's more hope for a ceasefire with harris than there is with trump, and that's worth something.

my friend said "when people look back at your history, don't let them see your name next to a war criminal's."

honestly? in this election, i would rather have my name seen next to harris because that shows i understood that the future of our country and the safety of its citizens was more important than my personal moral superiority.

i don't just vote to make a fucking point. i vote because it impacts people's lives.

it seriously feels like some people are okay with watching the country burn, as long as they feel morally superior.

[bengals-barnesbabe]

My Type

~ a blurb I came up with at 3:33 am

TW: suggestive fluff & not exactly a blurb

₊ . ⋆ ⁺ ݃ ✳︎ 𓏸 ˙₊ ❊ 𓈒 𓇬 ⁺ ⋆ . ₊

Hard Knocks, the show surround your favorite team that has either become the bane of your existence or an absolute treasure. Either way, one clip of your personal friend, Joe Burrow, driving a golf cart has yet to leave your mind.

The golf cart itself wasn’t special. Nor were the practice outfits of the four players riding in it. It was just Joe. And the way he drove it.

It was carefree, fluid, and almost too much. Not too much for him, obviously; you haven’t seen anything that’s been proven to be too much for him. It was too much for you.

He just looked so soft. Warm Bengals beanie atop his blonde curls with only the pink-tinted flesh of his earlobe poking out. His strong arms covered a black long-sleeved tee. It was cute.

What wasn't cute was the way his thick thighs filled his grey pants to the point that you could see each muscle in his long legs. Or his defined jawline and cold-flushed cheeks that sit on the border between just hot and ridiculously hot.

You'd never felt this way about the quarterback. In the years of knowing him and being friends, it never crossed your mind that Joey Burrow was seductively handsome. He'd always been handsome but like a picture-perfect handsome. You could tell why he was a heartthrob; you just never felt the intense heart-pumping yourself.

Then you watched him lick his lips while reversing a golf cart, slide his left hand into his pocket, and drive off with one hand on the wheel.

One simple act after another, but done in a sequence with all the additional factors to create a moment that had you dumbstruck.

Dumbstruck and questioning every interaction you'd had with him as you watched the 12-second clip over and over and over again. One video cannot change how you see someone you've known for years with such ease.

And you were right. It wasn't just the Hard Knocks clip; it was the many saved videos of him mic'ed up on your phone, the overwatched and much-appreciated clip of his 47-yard rushing touchdown, the infamous Body Armour ads, the Bose ads, the Alo clip of him just running that take up space on your iPhone 14 Pro and show no sign of being deleted.

You thought you were in the clear because you never saved the videos or edits of him being outwardly seductive and hot. No photos of him shirtless or with sweat dripping down his beefy body as he works out. No, you started away from them, always at arm's length with items of temptation.

Or were you?

"What are you watching?" His deep timbre causes you to throw your phone in the most guilty manner. You both watch wide-eyed as it bounces on the carpet until it's thankfully faced down in the middle of his living room.

Joe turns to you, his face growing red as he holds back his laugh. "Was it really that bad?" He asks, releasing his giggles hostage.

Instead of responding, his cute chuckles fill your ears and warm your heart, making it thump just a little bit harder. Because since when was his laugh so cute?

The sound of your name flowing off his pink, pouty lips and the way your heart skips a beat brings you back to the present.

"Huh?"

"Huh? That's all you can say?" He smirks, looks down at the phone, then at you, then back to the phone.

The next thing you know, you're both diving for the phone. It's almost comedic how panicked your face looks compared to him as he swipes your phone and turns it over like buried treasure. All the dramatics just to see his face fall because you have auto-lock on, which is the biggest feeling of relief off your shoulders.

"I was so close." He sighs.

"Sorry, Joey Wheels, you just weren't fast enough." You chuckled taking the phone from his outreached hand.

He chuckles lightly, "You know, I am gonna figure out exactly what had you so awestruck." As another stroke of luck, his phone starts ringing. "Just not today."

~ Night of Broncos @ Bengals Game ~

You were stressed but relieved following the aftermath of what that game did to you. Especially being at the stadium, it was like every minute that passed would end you. You like being kept on your toes, but not that much. As soon as the game was over and you could relax, you got a simple text from Joe.

MVP: stick around, let me drive you home

It was innocent; it wouldn't be the first time he's given you a ride home after a game, and it probably wouldn't be the last. You always preferred public transport because of how close you live to the city, so his offer was out of pure generosity.

But why did such a simple text reignite that same anxiety and tension as you had during the game?

Was it because of these confused feelings you've kept in for a week?

Or the potential conversations that could be had over the 10-minute ride?

Then you thought back to his pregame fit and visibly shivered, but it had nothing to do with the slight chill in the stadium.

Joe walked into the stadium in an all-black outfit: simple black jeans, black sneakers, a brown and black checkered bottega jacket, and one of his signature black shades. He looked the most fuckable, you have ever seen him- and this was after his slim shady tank top look.

Now you're imagining sitting next to him in his sleek Porsche, his jacket unzipped to the middle of his chest, definitely exposing his sexy-ass idea not to wear a shirt underneath it. But that's not even the worst part; you can keep yourself calm enough by just not making eye contact.

No, the worst part is now, his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, the shades sit on his head, and his fucking hand is inches away from your thigh.

Your exposed thigh, because after hearing how nice the weather would be for the game, you decided to put on some heavily distressed black skinny jeans. His fingers are practically causing their own electrical current as they graze your soft brown skin. And to top it off, he's wearing his signature smirk.

Because he always knows exactly what he's doing and how to get a reaction out of you.

"Out with it, Bur- His hand slips, and he grasps your thigh during a sharp break at a red light, then he looks over at you.

"Sorry about that," He smiles, lying through his perfectly pearly teeth. "Didn't want anything to happen to you, pretty girl."

You stared at him in pure disbelief. “You did that on purpose.”

“Now why would I do that?”

“Because you know something.” He looks away, but you catch the light chuckle he lets out. “I don’t appreciate you torturing me just because you don’t feel the same way.”

“I never-

“You didn’t have to, just-

Before you know it, his lips are on yours. Here you are, sitting at a red light, surrounded by the oddly quiet city, with Joe’s pillowy soft lips melting against your own.

When he breaks away, the light is green but the only thing moving is his hand against your cheek.

“I do feel the same way. I always have. It’s you who’s been taking over a year to figure it out.” He says softly brushing his thumb over your lips.

You lean in almost closing the distance between you. “I really like you, Joe.”

The light turns red again, effectively blending with the bright blush across his face. “Thank god, cause I’ve been dressing like a complete slut to games trying to get your attention. I was debating just showing up to your place just sweaty and shirtless.”

The car turns into a bubble of laughter as you lean back against the window trying to clam yourself down with the coolness from the outside. The two of you sit in a comfortable silence for the rest of the ride. You’re watching the city lights pass by while he drives safely down the streets, slow enough because he knows how much you love the view and so he can unashamedly glimpse over at your beauty.

Minutes later you’re walking hand in hand up to your apartment. “You know…” You bite back a smirk as you reach the door.

“What?” He raises a brow, pulling your hand to his lips.

The simple act warms your skin in a way he wouldn’t be able to notice unless you were grinning like a fool. Which you were.

You can’t help but giggle your next words out. “Your plan of showing up sweaty and shirtless would’ve worked too.”

He lightly scoffs with a timid smile on his face. “Same goes for you, princess. If I had known me driving one handed turned you on so much… well you wouldn’t have thrown your phone across the room a few weeks back.” He smirks cupping your jaw and placing a light kiss on your forehead.

“You’re such a tease.”

He chuckles darkly, tilting your head and leaning down until you’re sharing one breath. “That’s the whole point, sweetheart.”

⤜♡→

main masterlist

[keerysfreckles]

superglue — steve harrington

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: when y/n is needed by steve and a middle schooler to fight an interdimensional dog

warnings: use of y/n, she/her pronouns, mentions of wounds and blood, some lines will not be accurate to the actual scene, possible spelling errors

a/n: back in my writing era specifically for my pookie aly @keerysbrowneyes <3 (going through my inbox asap i promise)

masterlist !

⋆ ˚ ｡ ⋆ ୨୧ ˚

y/n loved steve.

her and steve have been the best of friends since the middle of second grade, when steve asked if he could have one of y/n's chocolate dipped marshmellows her mother packed her. how could seven year old y/n say no to eight year old steve's lopsided smile and missing front teeth.

ever since the two have been inseparable. throughout middle school and high school steve somehow managed to drag y/n into all of his antics and strange behavior.

in eighth grade steve managed to get her to go with him to egg the principals house as a dare. and in freshman and sophomore year he convinved her and his large group of friends to go skinny dipping while it was barely thirty degrees outside. (they all got frostbite and couldn't feel their fingers or toes for a solid week).

these reasons explain why him and some middle schooler were standing in front of y/n's red front door.

"why are we asking this girl for help? we could've been halfway down the train tracks right now!"

"will you relax? you said the more help we get the better the plan will be."

after three knocks on the door, it opens to reveal y/n with the most confused expression steve has ever seen on the girl.

she points to the kid, "why do you have a child with you? what-"

the child in question raises his hand to shake y/n's, catching her off gaurd.

"dustin henderson, pleasure. now we need to go," with that he walks back towards steve's parked car, making him deliver some form of an explanation.

y/n crosses her arms as steve finally responds.

"it's a very long story, but me and dustin need your help with something."

steve's big brown eyes lock with y/n's in a plead, as he flashes a dopey smile. she sighs, not questioning anything while slipping her shoes on to follow steve to his car.

steve taps the passenger seat window.

"what?" dustin asks.

"it's y/n's seat, get out."

"the hell? i was here first steve. make her sit in the back."

y/n chuckled at the boys' bickering, smiling proudly as dustin fussed even more while getting in the back seat.

"can one of you explain why you dragged me out of my house on this fine saturday?" y/n asked a few minutes into the drive, watching steve drive towards the woods near her house.

"we're baiting a monster to a junk yard," dustin deadpans as steve parks the car next to a set of train tracks.

y/n only laughs, but still gets out of the car, only to be met with steve and dustin pulling buckets of meat, gloves and backpacks out of the trunk.

"you can't be serious right now. there's no such thing as monsters," y/n chuckles again.

"just put some gloves on and help," dustin demands.

"only if you have proof of said monster."

"oh we'll have proof," steve replies. the slight waver in his voice confirms well enough for y/n not to take this lightly, as she grabs a bucket of meat in her gloved hands.

the trio started walking down the train tacks, y/n and steve stayed relatively close to each other, while dusting walked a few feet ahead of them.

"so what kind of monster are we baiting with all this meat?" y/n asks.

dustin stops and turns to the older teenagers before responding, "picture a dog. now add slime and teeth and gross viens and a long tail. oh and no face."

y/n simply nods, while dustin turns back around.

the trio walked a few feet again before steve starts a conversation with dustin.

"all right let me get this straight. you kept something you probably knew was dangerous just to impress some girl?"

"okay that's grossly oversimplifying things," dustin exaggerates.

"why would she like some slug anyway?"

"i thought you said it was a dog," y/n pipes up from behind the boys.

"it was a slug, but now it's a dog," dustin answers, before looking back towards steve, "and it's an interdimensional slug? cause it's awesome," he giggles.

"don't you think you're trying to hard? what if she doesn't even think the slug is cool?"

"not everyone can have your perfect hair all right?" dustin lets out a sight of defeat.

steve shakes his head, "it's not about the hair man. the key with girls is to act like you don't care. drives 'em nuts."

y/n can't help but roll her eyes as dustin asks, "even if you do care?"

"exactly."

"then what?" curiosity fills dustin's voice again.

"you uh, wait till you feel it," steve smirks.

"feel what?"

"y'know like before it's gonna storm, you'll feel this like, electricity."

dustin starts going on a small rant about electromagnetic currents, before steve cuts him off.

"no no no, like a sexual electricity. you feel that, that's when you make your move."

y/n can't believe her best friend was giving a twelve year old relationship advice. she starts zoning out, continuing to plop down chunks of meat every now and then on the weathered train tracks.

the boys in front of her continue their conversation.

"what type is y/n?"

steve looks behind him, noticing the girl is a bit farther behind them, "what about her?"

"well is she a ninja? lion? some other secret third option?"

"y/n's different. she's not like any other girl i've met. that's why she's my best friend."

"bullshit."

steve's caught off gaurd, "sorry, what? what's bullshit?"

"you two are way more than friends."

"oh yeah? how do you know that? you just met her today, and have some analysis on us?"

"well considering you've brought her up in almost every conversation we've had, wanted to go to her for help with dart, and now are calling her different from other girls. i'm just doing the math."

"yeah, well stop," steve deadpans, sighing as he looks back at the girl again.

a few minutes of silence goes by, as y/n now catches up to steve and dustin.

"faberge," steve blurts out.

both y/n and dustin's eyebrows furrow.

"what?" dustin asks.

"it's faberge organics."

y/n starts giggling from besides steve, knowing where this is probably going. in all eleven years of knowing steve "the hair" harringon, not once has she been told his secret hair care routine.

"use the shampoo and conditioner when your hair's damp, not wet okay?"

"not wet, damp," dustin repeats.

"then four puffs of farrah fawcett spray."

this makes y/n burst out laughing, making dustin join in as well.

"something funny to you?" steve turns, annoyed by his best friend.

y/n shakes her head, "no, no of course not. other than the fact you use a girl's hair styling products."

"you guys tell anyone i told you this," he points at both dustin and y/n, "your asses are grass, got it?"

they both nod, before dustin asks, "farrah fawcett, really?"

"i mean she's hot."

⋆ ˚ ｡ ⋆ ୨୧ ˚

after what felt like forever, y/n, steve and dustin made it to the junkyard dustin was leading them to.

"good call dude," steve praises as y/n pats dustin on the back, making the boy smile.

they pile the rest of the meat into a large pile in the middle of the junkyard, when a new voice makes them look to the right.

y/n guesses it's some of dustin's friends, but he doesn't look happy about them being here.

dustin drags the other boy behind a red rusted car, while the girl walks over to y/n and steve.

"hey, i'm max," she holds out her hand.

"i'm y/n, and that over there is steve," max nods. "i think the plan is to grab any trash we can find to cover the windows on this bus, alright?"

with that the new trio quickly begin covering the bus with old plates of metal, car doors, and wire, before steve goes off to find dustin and his friend.

the second friend of dustin's soon introduces himself to y/n, making the girl smile at all the kids' kindness towards her.

time went by far too quickly, as the sun was now setting and the group of five was sitting in different places around the bus.

lucas was on top of the bus with a pair of binoculars glued to his eyes. max was sitting in one of the torn up bus seats. dustin was anxiously pacing. y/n and steve were sitting next to each other on the floor, while steve was busy flicking a lighter.

"so you really fought one of these things before? and you're sure it wasn't a bear?"

"shit, don't be an idiot okay? if you don't believe us, just go home," dustin pouts.

"jeez, past someone's bed time?" max replies, before going up the ladder in the direction of lucas.

"dustin!" y/n scolds.

"that's good, just show her you don't care."

y/n punches steve in the arm.

"i don't," dustin responds.

steve turns as dustin sits down. he notices y/n's nervous habit of picking at her nails. the last time he noticed her do it was sophomore year before her driving test. and now a year and a half later she was doing it again.

"hey, you okay?" he stops flicking the lighter.

y/n nods, "yeah. i mean i've never fought a monster before," she smiles slightly.

"you'll be fine, trust me. i'll protect you," steve smiles at her, watching as the worry leaves her tired eyes.

"thanks steve."

the sweet moment however was cut short, by a distant growling noise, and dustin jumping up to the wire covered slit in the side of the bus.

"lucas, what's happening?"

"hold on!" lucas yells.

"who knew twleve year olds could be full of so much sass?" y/n questions as steve helps her up off the floor.

"right?" he agrees with a low chuckle.

everyone on the bus soon spots the monster they were looking for. y/n couldn't help but grip steve's jacket sleeve tighter than she was a minute ago, when she sees the monster's face.

well, resemblance of a face. she shivers at the light chittering noises as he sniffs the pile of meat.

"why isn't he taking the bait?" dustin asks no one in particular.

"maybe he's not hungry," y/n guesses.

"maybe he's sick of cow," steve then answers, beginning to back away from y/n and dustin, just as max climbs down the ladder.

"steve, what are you doing?" dustin asks.

"just get ready," he tosses y/n his lighter, as he grabs a bat from besides the door.

"steve are you insane? you could get killed out there," y/n hisses, only wanting him to say he's joking and stand next to her again.

y/n's breath hitches as steve goes out the busted doors and into the lion's den. or would it be dog's den?

whatever it may be, it only stresses the older girl out more once the demodog can be seen in front of steve.

as steve stops mocking the demodog, he swings his nailed back more times than he can count, as he runs away from the monster whenever it chases him.

the three younger kids begin yelling for him at the same time, panicking for him. y/n can only bite her nails and watch in terror as her best friend might be killed in the next five minutes.

"he's insane," max calls out.

"he's awesome," dustin responds with a smile.

lucas calls out from above, alerting steve of the other dogs approaching.

"there's more of them?" y/n questions dustin.

dustin avoids her question before yelling through the window, "steve! abort!"

max and y/n join in on the yelling, until y/n begins opening the bus doors.

steve stumbles up the steps and is out of breath after he shoves the door closed, now only inches away from y/n.

"you're an idiot."

"are they rabid or something?" max asks.

"they can't get in! they can't!" dustin yells as one of the dogs rams itself against the metal doors.

steve grabs y/n's arm to bring her away from any form of danger, something he's gotten used to doing over the past few years.

dustin begins yelling god knows what into his walkie talkie set, as lucas climbs down the ladder and into the group of worried kids.

y/n takes in a deep breath and grabs steve's bat from out of his hands.

"y/n what the hell?" he asks, before his eyes widen, watching her begin the trek up the ladder.

he grabs her waist, stopping her, "what on earth do you think you're doing?"

"what if more are up there?"

"then let me handle it!" he whisper-yells.

"no, you stay here with the kids. they seem to trust you more."

y/n starts walking up the ladder again, definitely missing the feeling of steve's big hands on her waist.

y/n makes it to the top of the bus, clutching the nailed bat in her hands until her knuckles practically turn white. her head twists and body turns at any sound she hears, not wanting to take any chances at missing one of those dogs.

she fully turns around at the sound of claws on metal, watching as a demodog crawls onto the top of the bus.

the color in her face drains as she beings walking towards it. steve and the kids inside the bus can't help but start calling out her name, just like they all did when steve was outside.

the demodog growls at her, as y/n holds the bat up, ready to swing. however another demodog makes it way up from the other end of the bus.

thankfully, dustin notices the faint prints of the dog's feet towards the back and is quick to alert steve.

"y/n!" he yells up the ladder, "there's two, you have to get down!"

"i'm kinda busy here!" her voice shakes, and she prays that steve doesn't notice. he does.

once the first demodog is close enough, she swings the bat with as much force as she can muster and it rolls off the bus onto the dried grass beneath her.

she lets out a sigh of relief, althoguh steve's words finally register, just as the second demodog runs towards her and slashes it's claws through her left leg. the force makes it so y/n falls forward, making steve's bat fall out of her hands and lands with a thud farther down the bus.

steve's head immediately picks itself up as he hears y/n's ear splitting scream, followed by the call of steve's name. he skips two rings at a time as he climbs the ladder, scrambling to get through the opening.

his eyes widen as y/n's trying her hardest to kick the demodog away, but move away from it at the same time. however she can't move much because of the pain seering up her leg. steve turns his head, noticing his bat behind him, and is as quick as possible to swing at the dog. he gets the dog off the bus in two swings.

as soon as he takes another look at y/n, he drops the bat and kneels in front of her.

"hey, hey you're okay," his calm voice is an exact opposite of everything the two teens just went through.

y/n shakes her head and cries more as steve looks down at the gashes in her leg. there's three thick lines of skin missing, with blood dripping down her leg, ruining her pants and single converse.

out of instinct, steve takes off his signature grey jacket and places it over y/n's leg. she reaches forward and holds onto steve's arm as if her life depended on it.

"steve!" she cries more.

"i know. i know it hurts baby," the petname rolls of his tongue before he can stop it, "but we need to stop the bleeding okay? it'll help in the long run."

y/n leans her head forward, crying into steve's neck as he continues tending to her.

"dustin! max! lucas! i need your help!"

the three middle schoolers come up quickly, dustin already looking for things in his backpack as he sits down besides steve.

lucas helps dustin find anything to help stop the bleeding, as max sits next to y/n and rubs her back.

steve throws his now bloodied jacket somewhere on the top of the bus, as dustin hands him a few paper towels. steve's heart rate calms slightly as the blood flow has slowed down since he began helping y/n.

"will this work?" lucas asks steve, holding out a worn out bandage wrap from his own backpack.

steve nods, before dustin quickly takes the paper towels, only wanting to help steve.

"this is gonna sting a little okay? and it might be tight, but it's okay, yeah?" steve's calm voice floods her ears again.

he feels her nod against him and mutter oout a 'yeah', before he carefully wraps the bandage around her leg. once he finshes, his hand hovers over the area, as he rubs his tumb back and forth.

"you're okay," steve whispers against the top of her head, and kisses her hair.

her hold on his shirt loosens and her breathing starts going back to his normal state.

"hey there champ," steve smiles as she brings her face out of his neck. steve wipes under her eyes with his thumb.

"you think you can walk?" dustin asks carefully, definitely not wanting to piss y/n or steve off at the moment.

y/n nods, "i'm definitely going to need some help."

the three kids are the first to go down the ladder, grabbing their bags, and steve's bat and bloodied jacket.

steve helps y/n down the ladder, and once she's at the bottom, lucas and dustin help her stand until steve reaches the bottom.

the same process is made until everyone is standing outside the bus. y/n is leaning practically all her body weight against steve, making sure not to lean on her injured leg.

"do you think steve scared them off?" lucas broke the silence, now noticing none of the demodogs were around them anymore.

"no, no way."

"jeez thanks," steve responds to dustin's response, after wrapping his arm tighter around y/n's waist.

"they were going somewhere," dustin continues.

"where?" max asks.

"the lab," dustin and lucas say at the same time.

just as the group begins walking towards the forest, after dustin hands out flashlights for everybody, y/n winces as she tries to take a few steps.

"you guys okay?" dustin asks.

"yeah, yeah, you guys start walking. we'll be there in a few," steve responds, helping y/n sit down on the hood of an abandoned car.

"are you okay?" steve rubs over the denim of y/n's pants, making his hands rest on her thighs.

she nods, "yeah it just feels weird."

now steve nods, before she speaks up again.

"you called me baby."

"what?"

"up on the top of the bus," she explained, "you called me baby."

steve's face instantly become pink as his cheeks felt hot.

"oh, i uh, i didn't mean to. it was kind of in the heat of the moment i guess. i swear i-"

y/n cuts him off, "i liked it."

"oh?" is all steve can get out.

y/n nods again, "i really liked it. and maybe this is just the blood loss talking, but i really like you steve."

steve is silent as she continues rambling.

"i've liked you since you took me to the eighth grade dance, in that stupid blue dress my mom made me wear. i've liked you since you invited me to that stupid pool party with nancy wheeler when you liked her. i've liked you since you helped me find my car in the school parking lot," she pauses as they both let out a laugh. "i've liked you forever steve."

steve lets y/n's words sink in. as he does his smile only grows wider.

"i've liked you forever too," he begins to lean closer to y/n.

he's now fully standing between y/n's legs, not letting his hands fall from her thighs. he captures her lips gently at first, feeling her hands move to hold onto his shoulders.

he deepens the kiss, both of them letting years of untold love fall onto the other's lips. y/n's hands move up towards his hair, holding the strands in the back between her fingers.

y/n is the first to pull back, solely to catch her breath and so she can admire a lovestruck steve. her hands move down from his hair to his biceps, as his still stay on her thighs.

"hey steve?" her voice is quiet.

he hums a response.

"do you think you could carry me to this lab we're going to?"

steve smiles and nods, "i was hoping you'd ask."

y/n giggles as he's being as gentle as possible to pick her up off the car and into his arms. he leans forward to kiss her forehead before he starts walking.

"i'm sorry i ruined your favorite jacket," she apologizes as she leans her head on steve's shoulder.

"it's okay, i needed a new one anyway."

[one0p1nk]

(( if.. IF ur still doing requests…. IF……… u can save this for l8r or delete

*shaking and crying* …. H ….. .m.. …c …c..an….,…I…cani get…canigetmybabygirl……))

// * babygirl delivery service,,, :DD @picnicbask3t

[one0p1nk]

// Suddenly this appeared so imma take the opportunity to yap this scenario idea of Reyna and Langston-- the most painfulñy funny yet angsty idea i ever have so sfar for them😭😭 they most likely can't die easily ofc, but this is just some what-if scenario/lh

Reyna being executed by a rose blade from above the moment they both separate after finishing their (possibly) last dance together. they're going to have together. As punishment for her "sins" she did when trying to escape with Langston. Lang gets to see her perished into ashes before being also punished differently by being damaged by an (unordinary axe) like a broken tv....;;;(heavily referenced✨️✨️)

Oh and another idea! 🥳

There was a time Reyna and Langston talked about the concept of marriage(which also led to the lore of Hana's marriage with Albert couch cough idk i think Reyna has some remaining deja vus of Hana's experiences??? ). Langston asked Reyna if there would be in an universe where he can just be with her like how Albert(at least, the man she described in her occasional hallucinations) did in a strange tone(hard to tell if he's been mad, sad, or hopeless- maybe none??) Reyna could only gaze at him quietly, before leaning her head into his shoulder while gripping on where his heart should be.

"If that's the case, we will never happy like them... and that still won't change what we don't have right now."

imagining yur ships in the communion can either be such a silly thing or the most agonising pain you’ve ever felt

[joenateuser]

JOE LOCKE & KIT CONNOR Paris Fashion Week - Givenchy Fall RTW 2025 March 7, 2025

[jburrgf]

Friends; The Love Trope Series

You Belong With Me, Part. 1

◦pairing: ¡bestfriend! joe burrow x ¡bestfriend! reader

◦summary: friends to lovers, childhood friendship. slow burn, soulmates.

◦description: you and joe are best friends since day one. both of you are on yours last year of high school. being part of the graduation committee means a lot to you, and you are all 100% with prom preparations. on the other side, joe is there, helping you like always. but now, things hit different when you realize he’s not just a high school sweetheart: joe burrow is the love of your whole life.

° playlist: Friends, Ed Sheeran From Eden, Hoozier 21, Gracie Abramns You Belong With Me, Taylor Swift I Couldn’t Be More In Love, The 1975

◦From the Love Trope Series. Part II / Part III / Part IV

THE PLAINS, OHIO — SPRING 2015

JOE BURROW.

The cafeteria buzzed with the usual hum of overlapping conversations, laughter, and the occasional clatter of a dropped tray. I leaned back in my chair, balancing it precariously on two legs as I half-listened to my teammates debating the best dunk from last night's school game. 

My attention, though, was elsewhere. It always was these days.

“Bro, you’re staring again.”

I turned, scowling at Sam, one of my teammates. He was grinning like he’d just caught me red-handed, which, to be fair, he had.

“I’m not staring,” I muttered, grabbing my bag and slinging it over my shoulder.

“Sure you’re not,” Sam said, dragging out the words. “Just like you weren’t staring yesterday when she was hanging up those prom posters.”

I rolled my eyes, trying to brush him off, but the heat creeping up my neck gave me away. He wasn’t wrong. I had been staring.

It wasn’t like I could help it. Y/N had been my best friend since we were five years old, but somewhere along the line, things changed. It was subtle at first—a skipped heartbeat here, a lingering glance there. By sophomore year, I’d gone from thinking she was cute in that “best friend” way to realizing I was completely, hopelessly in love with her.

And now? Now I was just the idiot who couldn’t tell her.

Y/N was sitting at the table near the windows, her head bent over a clipboard, her pen scribbling furiously. Her lips moved as she mouthed whatever notes she was jotting down, and her brows furrowed in that way they always did when she was focused. It was one of those little things about her that I couldn’t help but find endearing—like the way she’d unconsciously tap her pen against her cheek when she was thinking or how her voice would rise just a bit when she got excited about something. Watching her now, so completely absorbed, I couldn’t help but smile to myself, even if the ache in my chest reminded me why I kept these thoughts to myself. She had been like this for weeks—wrapped up in her role on the prom committee. She’d tell me about it every chance she got, her voice lighting up as she described color schemes, playlists, and centerpieces. It was cute, really, how excited she was.

But then there was him.

Brian Harris, the shooting guard from our basketball team, sauntered over to Y/N’s table. He was the type who thrived on attention, always quick with a joke or a flashy move to keep the spotlight on him. Brian and I didn’t exactly get along—Brian’s cocky demeanor had rubbed me the wrong way since freshman year, and our clashes during practice, when I used to play basketball, were almost legendary. I stiffened. He leaned on the edge of her table, his stupid, cocky grin plastered across his face as he said something that made her laugh. My stomach twisted at the sound.

He always wanted everything that I had, My talent, my position, my girl. And after I left basketball for good and he became captain, he’s on the run of the other things that he misses.

“Dude, you’re gonna snap that chair if you keep leaning back like that,” Josh, one of my friends, said, smirking.

“Shut up,” I muttered, letting the chair drop back onto all four legs with a thud.

“Oh, someone’s grumpy,” Sam teased, following my gaze. “Ah, I see. Miller’s making a move on Y/N, huh?”

“He’s not making a move,” I snapped, even though the words felt hollow. Of course he was making a move. The guy was a known flirt, and Y/N was...well, Y/N. Beautiful, smart, funny. She had this way of making everyone feel like they mattered, and apparently, Brian Harris wasn’t immune to her charm.

“Relax, man. She’s your best friend. It’s not like she’d go for him,” Josh said, but there was a knowing glint in his eye. “Unless...”

“Unless what?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.

“Unless you’re finally ready to admit you’re into her,” Sam said, grinning from a distance.

“I’m not—” I started, but the words died in my throat. What was the point? Josh wasn’t going to believe me, and honestly, I wasn’t sure I believed myself anymore.

Y/N 

Prom committee meetings were the highlight of my week lately. Sure, they were hectic, and half the time I felt like I was herding cats trying to get everyone to agree on something, but it was worth it. This was *our* prom, and I wanted it to be perfect.

Today, I was finalizing the seating chart when Brian Harris’s shadow fell over my table. I looked up, surprised to see him smiling down at me.

“Hey, Y/N,” he said, his voice smooth. “You’re working hard over here. Need a break?”

I chuckled, shaking my head. “Not really. There’s too much to do.”

“Come on,” he said, leaning closer. “Even superheroes need a break.”

I laughed, though it felt more polite than genuine. The truth was, Brian’s attention did nothing on me. Sure, it was nice to be noticed, but his charm felt too practiced, too rehearsed. Deep down, I knew the only person whose approval I wanted was Joe’s. Brian was nice and all, but he wasn’t exactly the kind of guy I’d go out of my way to talk to. Still, it was flattering that he was paying attention to me. It wasn’t like I had guys lining up to flirt with me.

“Maybe later,” I said, hoping he’d take the hint.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Joe watching us from across the cafeteria. His jaw was clenched, and he was gripping his water bottle so tightly I thought it might burst. I fought the urge to smile. Joe could be so obvious sometimes.

“Alright, but don’t work too hard,” Brian said, winking as he walked away.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Joe appeared at my side, dropping into the seat across from me.

“What did Harris want?” he asked, his tone sharper than usual.

“Nothing,” I said, shrugging. “He was just being nice.”

“Nice? That guy doesn’t do nice, Y/N. He was hitting on you.” He hesitated, running a hand through his hair. “I just… I don’t like the way he looks at you.”

My heart skipped a beat. “What are you talking about?”

“You know what I’m talking about,” he said, his voice low. “He’s into you.”

I stared at him, trying to process his words. Was he… jealous?

“And what if he is?” I asked, testing the waters.

Joe’s expression darkened, and for a moment, I thought he was going to argue. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “You can do better than him,” he muttered, his fingers drumming against the table as his gaze shifted away, like he couldn’t bear to watch me react.

I opened my mouth to answer, but the words caught in my throat. How could I tell him the truth? That I didn’t care about Brian or any other guy because the only one I wanted was standing right in front of me?

Instead, I shrugged. “He’s nice.”

Joe’s expression darkened, and he took a step back. “Right. Well, I’ve got practice. See you later.”

My heart skipped a beat. Was it just my imagination, or did he sound...jealous? I bit my lip, unsure of how to respond. I’d been in love with Joe for as long as I could remember, but he’d never given me any reason to think he felt the same way. Still, moments like this made me wonder.

JOE BURROW.

I couldn’t focus during practice that afternoon. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Brian Harris leaning over Y/N’s table, making her laugh. It shouldn’t have bothered me so much. She was her own person, and she could talk to whoever she wanted. But the thought of her with someone else — especially someone like Miller — made my blood boil.

“Earth to Joe,” Coach called, snapping me out of my thoughts. “Are you planning on joining us today, or are you just here for the view?”

“Sorry, Coach,” I mumbled, jogging back to my spot on the field.

After practice, I found myself walking toward Y/N’s locker without even thinking about it. She was standing there, talking to Tracy, one of her friends from the prom committee. When she saw me, her face lit up, and for a moment, the tightness in my chest eased.

“Hey,” I said, my voice soft but warm. “Long day?”

“Exhausting,” Y/n replied with a laugh. “But worth it. The decorations are coming together, thanks to you.”

 “Just doing my part. Are you sure you don’t need a ride home? My truck’s right outside.” As the words left my mouth, I couldn’t help but hope she’d say yes, imagining the quiet moments we could share on the drive back. My mind flickered to the idea of her sitting beside me, her laughter filling the cab, but I pushed the thought aside, afraid of reading too much into the moment.

Y/n hesitated, her gaze dropping for a moment. “Actually, I’ve got a ride with a friend. We’re going to the party store, me and Tracy.”

“Right. Prom,” I said, trying to hide my disappointment.

“You’re still going, right?” she asked, her tone almost...hopeful.

Of course.

With you, I thought.

“Yeah, I’ll be there,” I said, forcing a smile. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

Before the moment could grow awkward, Y/n stepped closer and leaned up to press a quick kiss to my cheek. I froze, the warmth of her lips lingering on my skin like a brand. My heart thundered in my chest, my mind scrambling to process what had just happened. I raised a hand instinctively to touch the spot, a faint blush creeping up my neck as I tried to fight back a grin. It was such a simple gesture, yet it sent a surge of hope through I that he couldn’t ignore. “Thanks for always looking out for me, Joe.”

I froze again, my heart pounding as her words echoed in my mind. But when I tried to talk again, she was already gone, leaving me standing in the middle of the hallway with my heart in my hands.

Y/N

As Tracy and I drove to the party supply store, I couldn’t stop thinking about the look on Joe’s face when I told him I didn’t need a ride. He’d seemed...off. Almost sad. Or maybe I was just imagining things.

“So,” Tracy said, breaking the silence. “When are you finally going to tell Joe how you feel?”

I nearly choked on my soda. “What? I don’t—”

“Please,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Everyone knows you’re into him. Well, everyone except Joe, apparently.”

I sighed, sinking lower in my seat. “It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t feel the same way.”

“Are you sure about that?” she asked, raising an eyebrow, her tone teasing yet firm, as if daring me to challenge her judgment. My heart stuttered at her certainty, and for a moment, I wondered if Tracy knew something I didn’t. Was I missing signs? Or was I just too afraid to believe she might be right? The idea was both exhilarating and terrifying, a dangerous hope I wasn’t ready to fully embrace. “Because from where I’m standing, he’s just as into you as you are into him.”

Could she be right? The thought sent a flicker of hope through me, but I quickly pushed it down. Joe and I were best friends, and I couldn’t risk losing that. Even if it meant keeping my feelings to myself.

For now.

JOE BURROW

I watched her walk to her car, her hair catching the golden light of the setting sun, and I wanted to scream.

Why couldn’t I just say it? Why couldn’t I tell her that seeing Brian flirt with her had made me feel like I was losing my mind? That the thought of anyone else being close to her made my chest ache?

Because you’re a coward, Burrow.

I climbed into my truck and gripped the steering wheel so tightly my knuckles turned white. Sam’s voice echoed in my head: You should just ask her to prom.

Easier said than done.

I’d known Y/N my whole life. She was my best friend, my partner in crime, the person who knew me better than anyone. But she was also the girl I was in love with, and the thought of risking everything—our friendship, the way she looked at me, the way she laughed at my stupid jokes—was enough to keep my mouth shut.

Still, as I drove home, I couldn’t shake the image of her and Brian at the booth. Her smile, her laugh—it should’ve been me making her laugh like that.

It should’ve been me.

By the time I pulled into my driveway, I’d made up my mind.

I was going to ask her to prom.

Y/N’s POV

I got home super tired from the afternoon that I had with Tracy. After the store supplies, we went to grab some food on our way home. Now, I was sitting at my desk, trying—and failing—to focus on my calculus homework. My phone buzzed, and I glanced at the screen, my heart skipping a beat when I saw Joe’s name.

Joey: Can I come over?

I stared at the message for a moment, my fingers hovering over the keyboard. We texted all the time, but something about this felt… different.

Me: Yeah, sure.

Fifteen minutes later, there was a knock on my window.

I rolled my eyes, but a smile tugged at my lips as I got up to let him in. Joe had been climbing through my window since we were kids, and even though he was way too big for it now, he still insisted on doing it.

“You know,” I said as he swung his legs over the sill, “we have a perfectly good front door.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” he said, flashing me a grin.

But the grin didn’t quite reach his eyes, and I felt a pang of concern.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, sitting back on my bed.

He hesitated, standing awkwardly in the middle of my room. “I, uh… I wanted to ask you something.”

“Okay…”

He took a deep breath, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. “Do you have a date for prom?”

I blinked, caught off guard by the question. “No. Why?”

His cheeks turned pink, and he looked down at the floor. “I was wondering if you’d want to go with me. You know, as friends.”

My heart sank at the word friends, but I forced a smile.

“Yeah,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “I’d love to.”

For a moment, something flickered in his eyes—relief, maybe? Or was it disappointment? I couldn’t tell. 

“Cool,” he said, his voice softer now. “Thanks.”

He stayed for a while after that, talking about everything and nothing, just like we always did. But when he left, climbing back out the window with a quiet “Goodnight,”  I knew something was different, I could feel in the air. But I couldn't tell what.

The next morning, I walked into school with a strange mix of excitement and nerves buzzing in my chest. I was going to prom with Joe. My best friend. The guy I’d been hopelessly in love with for years.  

Sure, he’d asked me “as friends,” but that didn’t stop the part of me that clung to the idea that maybe—just maybe—prom night would change things.  

I was lost in thought as I made my way to the gym, where the prom committee was meeting to finalize decorations. I’d barely set my bag down at the table when a familiar voice interrupted me.  

“Morning, Y/N.”  

I looked up to see Brian Harris standing there, his easy smile firmly in place.  

“Oh, hey, Brian,” I said, offering him a polite smile.  

“Got a minute?” he asked, leaning casually against the table.  

“Uh, sure,” I said, setting down my clipboard.  

Brian glanced around, as if making sure no one was listening, then turned back to me. “So, I was thinking… you’ve been working really hard on all this prom stuff, and you deserve to have a great night. How about going with me?”  

The question caught me completely off guard. I blinked, my brain scrambling to catch up. “You… want to take me to prom?”  

“Yeah,” he said, his grin widening. “I mean, who wouldn’t? You’re smart, funny, hot… the whole package.”  

Heat rushed to my face, but not in the way it did when Joe said something sweet. This was different—flattering, sure, but not the kind of butterflies that made your stomach flip.  

“Brian, that’s really nice of you, but…” I hesitated, searching for the right words.  

“Let me guess,” he said, cutting me off. “You already have a date?”  

I nodded, feeling a little guilty for turning him down. “Yeah, I do.”  

Brian raised an eyebrow. “Who’s the lucky guy?”  

“Joe,” I said simply, and for a split second, I thought I saw something flicker in his expression—surprise, maybe? Or disbelief?  

“Joe Burrow?” he asked, his tone laced with skepticism.  

“Yes, Joe Burrow,” I said, crossing my arms defensively.  

Brian chuckled, shaking his head. “Didn’t think he had it in him.”  

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.  

“Nothing,” he said quickly, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Just… didn’t peg him as the prom type. But hey, good for him. And for you.”  

“He's my best friend. Thanks.” I said, though his words left a sour taste in my mouth.  

As he walked away, I couldn’t help but feel a flicker of annoyance. Why did everyone act like Joe and I couldn’t be more than friends?  

JOE BURROW

I was halfway through practice when I got the text from Sam.  

Sam: Dude, Brian just tried to ask Y/N to prom.  

My grip tightened on the football, my jaw clenching so hard it hurt. I couldn't believe it. I kinda figured it out he was about to do something like that, he spent too much time quiet with me, it was weird. And now, he found a way.

“Burrow! Pay attention!” Coach barked.  

I nodded, forcing myself to focus on the play, but my mind was somewhere else entirely.  

Brian Harris. I should’ve known he wouldn’t give up that easily.  

By the time practice ended, I was practically sprinting to the parking lot. I spotted Y/N by her car, her head bent over her phone, and I spent the whole time hoping it wasn’t Brian.

“Y/N!” I called, jogging over.  

She looked up, her face lighting up in a way that made my heart skip a beat. “Hey, Joe. What’s up?”  

“I heard about Brian,” I said, trying to keep my voice casual. The truth was, I wasn’t casual at all.

Her smile faded slightly. “Who told you?”  

“Sam,” I admitted, leaning against her car.  

She sighed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Yeah, he asked me this morning.”  

“And what did you say?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer.  

She gave me a look. “I told him I already had a date. You.”  

The tight knot in my chest loosened a fraction. “Good.”  

“Good?” she repeated, raising an eyebrow.  

“Yeah,” I said, trying to play it cool. “I mean, we already have plans, right?”  

“Right,” she said, her expression softening.  

For a moment, we just stood there, the afternoon sun casting a golden glow over everything.  

“So,” I said, breaking the silence, “do you need help with any of the prom stuff? Decorations or whatever?” 

Her eyes widened slightly in surprise. “You’re offering to help?”  

“Why not?” I said, shrugging. “I could use the extra credit.”  

She laughed, and the sound was like music to my ears. “Alright, Burrow. Let’s see if you can survive an afternoon with the prom committee.”  

Y/N

I didn’t know what had gotten into Joe, but I wasn’t about to question it. If he wanted to spend more time with me—even if it was just to help with prom decorations—I wasn’t going to say no. We spent the next few hours in the gym, stringing up fairy lights and setting up tables. Joe grumbled about the glitter (“It’s going to be stuck to me for weeks”), but he didn’t complain when I handed him another box of decorations.  

At one point, I climbed a ladder to hang a banner, and when I wobbled slightly, Joe was there in an instant, his hands steadying the ladder.  

“Careful,” he said, his voice low.  

I glanced down at him, my heart racing for reasons that had nothing to do with the height. “Thanks.”  

He held my gaze for a moment, his hands still gripping the ladder, and I felt like the world had narrowed to just the two of us.  

“Anytime,” he said softly.  

By the time we finished, the gym was starting to look like the prom of my dreams. 

The next day, the buzz about prom was everywhere. People were swapping dress ideas, talking about their dates, and sharing excitement about the night that was quickly approaching.  

By lunchtime, I was sitting at our usual table in the cafeteria, flipping through a prom checklist on my phone. Joe was sitting across from me, picking at his fries, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else.  

“Are you seriously still doing prom stuff?” Tracy, my best friend, asked as she slid into the seat next to me.  

“Somebody has to,” I said, not looking up.  

“Somebody who isn’t you,” she shot back. “You’re already doing, like, ten other things. Delegation, Y/N. Learn it.”  

“She’s too much of a control freak,” Joe chimed in, smirking at me.  

I narrowed my eyes on him. “I’m organized, not a control freak.”  

“Sure, keep telling yourself that,” he said, popping a fry into his mouth.  

“Speaking of prom,” Tracy said, leaning forward conspiratorially, “have you told Joe what color your dress is yet? Or are you going to make him show up looking like a colorblind disaster?”  

I froze, suddenly aware of Joe’s eyes on me. “I—uh—I hadn’t thought about it.”  

“Seriously?” Tracy said, looking between us. “You two are going together, and you haven’t talked about coordinating?”  

“We’re going as friends,” I said quickly, feeling my cheeks heat up.  

Tracy rolled her eyes. “Yeah, sure. Friends.”  

Joe shifted uncomfortably in his seat, and I couldn’t tell if he was annoyed or embarrassed. Maybe both.  

“Anyway,” I said, trying to change the subject, “what about you? Who are you going with?”  

Tracy grinned. “Brian Harris asked me this morning.”  

My stomach dropped. “He did?”  

“Yep,” she said, clearly oblivious to the way my hands tightened around my phone. “Apparently, you turned him down, so he went with his second choice. And that’s exactly why I don't go out too much, I Said no, I’m going with Sam.”  

“Second choice?” I repeated, the words stinging more than they should have.  

“Oh, don’t get all weird about it,” she said, waving a hand dismissively. “You’re going with Joe, so who cares what Brian does?”  

She had a point. I was going with Joe. But why did it feel like I was still losing somehow?  I wasn't surprised about what happened. Couldn't get me, it’s not going to get my best friend either.

JOE BURROW

Sam and Josh , my two closest friends from the football team, were waiting for me by the vending machines after lunch. 

“So,” Sam said as soon as I walked up, following me into the hallway “you’re really going to prom with Y/N, huh?”  

I rolled my eyes, shoving a dollar into the machine. “Yeah. Why?”  

“Because it’s about damn time,” Josh said, leaning against the wall.  

I turned to glare at him, while I took my Kit-kat from the machine. “What’s that supposed to mean?”  

Sam snorted. “Come on, Burrow. Everyone knows you’re crazy about her. You’ve been in love with her since, like, the fifth grade.”  

“That’s not true,” I said automatically, but even I could hear how unconvincing I sounded.  

Josh raised an eyebrow. “Really? Then why did you almost rip Brian Harris’s head off at practice yesterday when Sam told you he asked her to prom?”  

“That’s different,” I muttered, punching the button for a soda.  

“Sure it is,” Sam said, smirking. “You’re totally not jealous or anything.”  

“I’m not,” I insisted, but the words felt hollow.  

The truth was, I had been jealous. Seeing Brian talk to her, flirt with her, try to take her to prom—it had made me feel like I was seconds away from losing something I hadn’t even realized I was holding onto.  

And that scared the hell out of me.  

“She’s my best friend,” I said finally, throwing the paper on the trash. “Exactly,” Carter said, clapping a hand on my shoulder. “Which is why you need to stop screwing around and tell her how you feel.”  

I didn’t respond, because what was the point? Even if I did tell her how I felt, there was no guarantee she’d feel the same way.  

And if she didn’t?  

I couldn’t risk losing her.  

Y/N

By the time the final bell rang, I was ready to go home and collapse. But as I was walking to the parking lot, Tracy caught up with me, her eyes sparkling with mischief. I know she was planing something I could feel in tHE air.

“Guess what,” she said, falling into step beside me.  

“What?” I asked, too tired to play along.  

“There’s a group going to that new dress shop downtown tomorrow, and you’re coming with me.”  

I groaned. “Tracy, I already have a dress.”  

“Yeah, but I don’t,” she said, grinning. “And I need moral support. Plus, we need to make sure your dress doesn’t clash with Joe’s suit.”  

I rolled my eyes. “Joe doesn’t care about that stuff.” And It was true. It didn’t matter if I was going with a red dress or blue.

“Maybe not,” she said, “but you do.”  

I hated that she was right.  

“Fine,” I said with a sigh. “I’ll go.” 

The next afternoon, Tracy picked me up for the trip to the new dress shop downtown. The store was buzzing with excited chatter, racks of shimmering gowns lining the walls, and mirrors reflecting endless possibilities.  

Tracy dragged me to the section with bright, glittery dresses that screamed “look at me.” I could tell she was in her element, flipping through racks like a woman on a mission.  

“What about this one?” she asked, holding up a strapless red gown with a thigh-high slit.  

“For you or for me?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. It was too much.

“For you,” she said with a grin. “You’d kill in this.”  

I shook my head. “It’s too much.”  

“Y/N, you’re going to prom with Joe Burrow. You have to make an impression.”  

“I’m already going with him,” I said. “Why do I need to impress him?”  

Tracy shot me a look. “You’re kidding, right? You’re hopelessly in love with the guy, and you don’t think this is your chance to finally make him see it?”  

My heart skipped a beat, and I froze mid-reach for a more modest gown. I didn’t even know what to say. “I—what? I’m not—”  

“Save it,” she said, cutting me off. “You might be able to fool everyone else, but not me. So pick something that’ll make his jaw drop.”  

I sighed, knowing there was no point arguing. Tracy wasn’t going to let this go.  

After what felt like hours of trying on dresses, I finally stepped out of the dressing room in a floor-length navy gown with a sweetheart neckline and delicate lace detailing.  

Tracy’s jaw dropped. “That’s the one.”  

I turned to look at myself in the mirror, and for a moment, I didn’t recognize the girl staring back at me. The dress hugged my figure in all the right places, and the navy color made my skin glow. It was that one, I know that.

“Wow,” I whispered.  

“Joe’s going to lose his mind,” Tracy said with a satisfied grin.  

I didn’t know about that, but for the first time, I felt like I might actually look like someone worth noticing.  

JOE BURROW.

Later that evening, I was sitting in my room, staring at my phone. Sam and Josh's words from earlier in the week were still playing in my head.  

“Tell her how you feel.”  

I sighed, tossing my phone onto the bed. It wasn’t that simple.  

Or maybe it was, and I was just a coward.  

My phone buzzed, and I picked it up to see a text from Y/N.  

Y/N:Just finished dress shopping with Tracy. I think I found the one.  

Me: Cool. Send me a pic.  

There was a long pause before she responded.  

Y/N: Nope. You’ll have to wait until prom.  

I frowned at the screen, my thumbs hovering over the keyboard.  

Me: Not even a sneak peek?  

Y/N: Nope.  

I sighed, but a small smile tugged at my lips. She always knew how to keep me on my toes.  

The next morning, Sam and Josh cornered me in the locker room after practice.  

“You figure out your prom look yet?” Josh asked, tossing a towel onto the bench.  

“I’m wearing a suit,” I said flatly.  

Sam snorted. “Wow, groundbreaking.”  

“Do you even know what color she’s wearing?” Josh asked, raising an eyebrow.  

“Yeah,” I lied.  

“Bullshit,” Sam said. “You didn’t even ask her, did you?”  

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “No, but I’m sure whatever I pick will be fine.”  

Carter shook his head. “You’re hopeless, man.”  

I’m in Love. It 's different.

Y/N

The week of prom flew by in a whirlwind of final preparations. The committee was meeting every day after school, and by Friday afternoon, the gym was completely transformed.  

I stood in the middle of the room, surveying the decorations with a mix of pride and exhaustion. The fairy lights twinkled above, casting a soft glow over the tables, and the dance floor was ready to go.  

“It looks amazing,” Joe said, walking up behind me.  

“Yeah,” I said, smiling up at him. “I think we pulled it off.”  

“You think?” he teased. “You’ve been running this show since day one.”  

I rolled my eyes. “It wasn’t just me.”  

“Sure,” he said, smirking.  

For a moment, we just stood there, the hum of the committee members packing up around us fading into the background.  

“You’re going to look great tomorrow,” Joe said suddenly, his voice soft.  

I looked up at him, my heart skipping a beat. “You think so?”  

“Yeah,” he said, his eyes meeting mine. “I know so.”  

I gave him a smile, and he opened his arms, asking for a hug. I got on my tiptoes, hugging Joe tight while his arms went around my waist.

[...]

The air was electric that morning. The last day of high school had arrived, and it felt like every hallway, every classroom, every moment was buzzing with a mix of nostalgia and excitement. People were signing yearbooks, taking pictures, and talking about their plans for the summer and beyond.  

Even I couldn’t help but smile as I walked to my locker. It was bittersweet, knowing this chapter of our lives was coming to an end.  

“Y/N!” Tracy called out, jogging to catch up with me. She had her camera slung around her neck, determined to document every second of the day.  

“Ready for the waterworks?” I teased.  

“Please, you’re the emotional one,” she shot back, grinning. “Anyway, don’t forget we’re doing a group photo at lunch. You and Joe better be there.”  

“Of course,” I said. “Speaking of Joe, have you seen him?”  

“Probably at his locker, brooding like usual,” Tracy said with a laugh. “Anyway, any big plans for tonight?” she asked, nudging me playfully.

“Just the prom committee meeting,” I said with a laugh. “And then maybe collapsing from exhaustion.”

She rolled her eyes. “You need to have more fun, Y/N. Let loose. Do something crazy for once.”

I shook my head. “I’ll catch up with you later.”  

And I heard a voice.

“Y/N!” Joe was striding toward me, his long legs making quick work of the crowded hallway.

“Your shadow approaches,” Tracy whispered with a smirk before disappearing into the crowd.

“Hey,” I said as he reached me.

“Are you ready for the pep rally?” he asked, leaning casually against the lockers.

“Always,” I said, trying not to smile too hard at the way his hair was slightly tousled from football practice. “Are you ready for this?” I asked, gesturing around us.  

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” he said with a shrug.  

“You don’t sound excited.”  

“It’s just a day,” he said, closing his locker.  

I rolled my eyes. “It’s the day, Joe. Our last day of high school. Try to act like it’s a big deal.”  

We walked to the gym together, the noise and chaos of the hallways swirling around us. Everything felt heightened—like we were living in slow motion, with every moment stretched out and glowing.

JOE BURROW.

The pep rally was loud, chaotic, and exactly what it needed to be. Seniors were on fire, shouting chants and tossing confetti in the air like it was the Super Bowl.  

I couldn’t stop glancing at Y/N, though. She was sitting with Tracy and a few other committee members, laughing as they worked on last-minute plans for tomorrow’s prom.  

She looked happy—really happy—and it hit me like a punch to the gut.  

I wasn’t the only one who noticed her, either.  

Brian Harris, the basketball player who’d been hovering around her all week, kept glancing in her direction.  

“Man, you have to do something.” Sam said to me, loud enough for me to hear him on top of the school band chant’s. I looked over at him, still seeing Brian smiling to Y/N, and I don’t know, I’m almost sure that she’s not comfortable.

JOE: you good?

I said in my message. Saw her opening her phone, but she didn’t text me back.

“He invited her that day, as soon as you steped back to class.” Josh said as well, looking at Brian ans Y/N.

“She is independent, can be with anyone she wants.”

“And you want that, Burrow?”

Sam asked me, and before I could respond to him, he was running back to our friends. By the time the rally ended, my mood had gone from celebratory to sour.  

By the time lunch rolled around, my patience was wearing thin. The day was supposed to be perfect—our last day as seniors, with Y/N by my side—but Brian Harris was determined to ruin it.  

I saw him hanging around her at the pep rally, throwing those cocky smiles her way like he thought she’d actually fall for it.  

And the worst part? She’d smiled back.  

It wasn’t the same smile she gave me, though. Hers was polite, almost distracted, but it still made my chest tighten.  

I knew Brian wasn’t going to back off, and the thought of him getting even one step closer to her made my blood boil.  

Y/N

Y/N

The last day of high school felt magical in a way that I couldn’t quite put into words. The hallways were alive with laughter, and the air was thick with excitement and nostalgia. Everything about the day seemed to shimmer—the sunlight streaming through the windows, the fresh breeze that wafted through open doors, the sound of sneakers squeaking against the polished floors.  

It was hard to believe this chapter of our lives was ending. Every smile, every hug, every glance at the crowded hallways felt like a snapshot I wanted to hold onto forever.  

But beneath the sparkle of it all, I couldn’t shake the tension I’d felt since the pep rally. Joe had been quieter than usual. He was there, walking me to class and teasing me like always, but something was… off.

“See you at lunch?” I asked.  

“Yeah,” he said, his voice softer now.  

But there was something in his eyes that made me pause.  

“Joe—”  

“Go,” he said, forcing a small smile. “You’ll be late.”  

I didn’t push him, though. Joe wasn’t the kind of person you were forced to talk to. He’d tell me what was on his mind when he was ready.  

Or so I thought.

I was walking with Tracy to the cafeteria when I heard someone call my name.  

“Y/N!”  

I turned to see Brian Harris jogging toward me, that signature smug grin plastered across his face.  

“Hey,” he said, stopping a little too close.  

“Uh, hey,” I replied, glancing at Tracy, who raised an eyebrow but stayed quiet.  

“I was wondering if you’d thought about the prom thing.” he said, leaning against the lockers like he owned the place.  

I blinked. “Oh, um… I’m going with Joe. I told you that already.”  

Brian’s grin faltered for a second before he recovered. “Right, the football star. But, you know, if you want a real man to take you, I’m available. Joe’s it’s just a football player like every single other one, He’s going to fuck you and forget your name right after.”  

I froze, my stomach twisting in discomfort. “Excuse me?”  

“You’re too pretty to waste your time on a guy like that,” Brian said, his voice dripping with arrogance. “I’d show you a better time, Y/N. You deserve someone who can actually keep up with you, ‘ya know? Not that bullshit.”  

I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could, a familiar voice cut through the tension like a blade.  

“What the hell did you just say?”  

JOE BURROW.  

The second I saw Brian cornering her, my body moved before I even realized what I was doing.  

I knew that look on his face. It was the same one he used to intimidate guys on the court, and it made my blood run hot.  When I heard what he’d said to her—when I saw the way her face twisted in discomfort—I saw red.  

“You got something to say about me, Harris?” I said, stepping between him and Y/N.  

Brian smirked, crossing his arms. “Relax, Burrow. I’m just saying the truth. She deserves better than some meathead quarterback.”  

“Back off,” I said, my voice low and dangerous.  

“Or what?” Brian challenged, his grin widening.

I glanced at Y/N out of the corner of my eye. She looked uncomfortable, like she wanted to disappear.  

“You’re pathetic,” I snapped at Brian. “You don’t even know her.”  

“And you do?” he shot back, laughing. “What are you, her guard dog? Or just her backup plan when no one else asks her out?  You afraid cause I can fuck her better dan you do?”

That was it.  

Before I even thought about it, my fist collided with his jaw.  

I barely felt Brian’s punch. Adrenaline was pumping through my veins, and all I could think about was wiping that smug grin off his face.  

The hallway erupted into chaos as people gathered around, shouting and gasping.  

Y/N 

“Joe!” I shouted, shoving my way through the crowd.  

Brian staggered back, clutching his face, and then lunged at Joe.  

Teachers swarmed the hallway, pulling them apart before Brian could land a punch.  

“You’re insane!” Brian yelled, glaring at Joe as he wiped blood from the corner of his mouth.  

“Better insane than a creep,” Joe shot back, his chest heaving.  

The teachers dragged them off in opposite directions, and I stood frozen, my heart racing as I tried to process what had just happened.  

I burst into the principal’s office, my heart racing.  

When I pushed open the door to the office, Joe was sitting in one of the chairs, a bag of frozen peas pressed to his eye. He looked up when I walked in, his expression a mix of embarrassment and defiance. His lip was cut, and his knuckles were red, but he didn’t look the least bit sorry.  

“What were you thinking?” I demanded, walking over to him.  

He shrugged. “Brian deserved it.”  

I crossed my arms, glaring at him. “You know you’re going to have a black eye at prom, right?”  

He smirked, the corner of his mouth pulling up in a way that made my heart stutter. “You think it’ll match my suit?”  

I rolled my eyes, but my expression softened as I crouched beside him.  

“Let me see,” I said, gently pulling the bag of peas away.  

His eye was already starting to swell, the skin around it an angry shade of red.  

I reached out, gently brushing my fingers against his cheek. “You didn’t have to do that, Joe.”  

“Yes, I did,” he said quietly, his eyes meeting mine.  

For a moment, we just sat there, the tension in the room thick enough to cut with a knife. Then, impulsively, I leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to the uninjured part of his cheek.  

“For good luck,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.  

Joe froze, his gaze locked on mine. My heart raced like a roller coaster.

“You’re unbelievable,” he said, but his tone was soft, almost affectionate.  

“You’re an idiot,” I shot back, standing up.  

He grabbed my wrist before I could step away, his fingers warm against my skin.  

“Thanks,” he said, his voice low.  

“For what?”  

“For being you,” he said simply.  

I didn’t know what to say, so I just nodded.  

“Come here,” he said, pulling me into a hug.  

I hesitated for a moment before wrapping my arms around his shoulders. He buried his face against my side, his grip firm but not overwhelming.  I felt my skiing getting hotter and hotter, and I just could smile. My hands went to his hair, my fingers went through his dirty blonde hair. We stayed like that until the principal walked in, but by then, I wasn’t sure I cared about anything else. 

It was just me and him against the world, and nothing else.

[...]

And that was it, it was prom night.

The house smelled like hairspray and perfume, and my room was a disaster zone. Dresses were scattered across the bed, shoes piled in a corner, and makeup brushes lay abandoned on the vanity. Tracy, as usual, was in full control, directing the chaos like she was the queen of prom night.  

“Hold still, Y/N!” she barked, holding up a curling iron dangerously close to my face.  

“I am holding still!” I protested, wincing as she tugged on another section of my hair.  

Tracy sighed dramatically, stepping back to examine her work. “Okay, that’s better. You’re going to look so good tonight. Joe’s going to lose his mind.”  

I rolled my eyes, pretending the mention of his name didn’t send my stomach into a flutter. “It’s just prom, Tracy. Not a wedding.”  

She smirked. “Sure, keep telling yourself that. One day you’re going to marry him.”  

Those words echoed in my mind, like a prophecy. Marriage, Joe, his last name. I felt like a little girl dreaming big.

Deep down, I knew she was half right. Prom wasn’t just another night. It was the last big event of high school, the last chance for everything unsaid to finally come to the surface. And with Joe… there was a lot to say.  

JOE BURROW.  

I couldn’t stop pacing.  

The suit felt too stiff, the tie too tight, and my reflection in the mirror wasn’t doing much to calm my nerves. The bruise under my eye had turned a deep shade of purple overnight, standing out against my pale skin like a neon sign.  

“You look ridiculous,” Sam said, lounging on my bed with his arms behind his head. “Like someone punched you in the face or something.”  

I glared at him. “Shut up.”  

“Relax, man,” he said, grinning. “Y/N doesn’t care what you look like. She’s already obsessed with you.”  

“Y/N’s not obsessed with me,” I muttered, adjusting my tie for the tenth time.  

“Right,” Sam said, dragging out the word. “And you’re not obsessed with her either.”  

“I’m not.”  

“Then why’d you deck Brian Harris yesterday?”  

My jaw tightened, but I didn’t answer.  

“That’s what I thought,” Sam said, sitting up. “Look, just tell her how you feel tonight. It’s prom. You’re supposed to be a little dramatic.”  

I groaned, rubbing the back of my neck. “You make it sound so easy.”  

My mom’s voice got into my ears, from downstairs, screaming at us saying that Josh got there with his mom’s eight places SUV.

“Because it is,” Sam said, standing up and clapping me on the shoulder. “Now come on. Let’s go pick her up.”  

Y/N

The knock on the door sent a ripple of nerves through me.  

“Y/N, they’re here!” my mom called from downstairs.  

Tracy gave me a final once-over, her eyes narrowing in approval. “You look perfect. Now go knock him dead.”  

I smoothed down the front of my dress, took a deep breath, and made my way downstairs.  

When I saw Joe standing in the entryway, my breath caught. He looked… incredible. The black suit fit him perfectly, and even with the bruise under his eye, he somehow managed to look like he’d stepped out of a movie.  

He looked up as I descended the stairs, his mouth parting slightly as his eyes locked on me.  

“Wow,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.  

I blushed, smiling nervously. “Hi.”  

“You look…” He shook his head, searching for the right words. “You look beautiful, Y/N.”  

“Thanks,” I said softly, my heart pounding. “You look pretty good yourself.”  

He grinned, and for a moment, everything else faded away. My heart was beating so fast… It was crazy.

“Are you ready to go?” he asked, holding out his arm.  

“Yeah,” I said, slipping my hand into the crook of his elbow. “Let’s do this.”  

JOE BURROW.  

The ride to prom was a blur of nerves and stolen glances. Y/N was sitting beside me, her dress shimmering under the streetlights, and all I could think about was how badly I wanted to tell her the truth.  

That I’d been in love with her for as long as I could remember.  

That seeing her with anyone else felt like a punch to the gut.  

That she was the only reason high school had meant anything to me at all.  

But every time I opened my mouth, the words got stuck in my throat.  

When we arrived at the venue, the place was already packed. Lights twinkle from every corner of the ballroom, and music echoed through the open doors.  

“Come on,” Y/N said, tugging on my arm. “Let’s go find Tracy before she starts texting me a thousand times.”  

I followed her inside, my chest tightening as I watched her weave through the crowd with that familiar confidence. She belonged here, in the center of it all, surrounded by laughter and light. And I couldn’t help but feel like I was just lucky to be standing next to her.  

We walked through a crowd of teenagers, everyone stopping Y/N to say that the place was awesome. I was holding her hand, walking behind her and letting her set the pace.

“I’m not finding Brian.” She said, the happiness palpable in her voice.

I gave her a smile. “Cause tonight is your night.”

Y/N  

Prom was everything I’d hoped it would be. The decorations, the music, the energy—it all felt like a dream, but even as I danced with my friends and laughed at Tracy’s terrible attempts at doing the cha-cha slide, my attention kept drifting back to Joe.  

He was standing by the punch table, talking to Sam and a couple of his football buddies, but every so often, his eyes would find mine across the room.  

And every time they did, my heart skipped a beat.  

“You should just go for it,” Tracy said, nudging me.  

“What are you talking about?” I asked, pretending not to know exactly what she meant.  

“Joe,” she said, rolling her eyes. “You’re practically glowing every time you look at him.”  

I glanced at him again, my stomach doing flips.  

“What if he doesn’t feel the same way?” I asked quietly.  

Tracy gave me a knowing smile. “Trust me, Y/N. He does.”  

“How–”

“Babe, he walks you to your car everyday, even when he has practice. He’s your pair in chemistry cause he found out you're not that good. He just use his cologne cause you like it. That guy has been in love with you for ages. Go.

But as I walked to meet me, he came down my direction.

JOE BURROW.

By the time the slow songs started playing, I couldn’t take it anymore.  

“Do you want to dance?” I asked, walking up to her before I could lose my nerve.  

She looked up at me, surprised, and then nodded. “Yeah. I’d like that.”  

I led her to the dance floor, my heart pounding as I rested my hands on her waist. She placed hers on my shoulders, and for a moment, we just stood there, swaying to the music.  

“You having fun?” I asked, my voice quiet.  

She nodded, smiling up at me. “Yeah. Are you?”  

I hesitated, my eyes searching hers. “I think this might be the best night of my life.”  

Her smile faltered slightly, her brows furrowed in confusion.  

“Y/N,” I said, my voice shaky. “There’s something I need to tell you.”  

Her grip on my shoulders tightened, and I could see the fear and hope mingling in her eyes.  

“What is it?” she asked softly, looking over my eyes, and my mouth. I almost fainted.

I took a deep breath, summoning every ounce of courage I had.  

“I—”  

The words sat heavy on my tongue, burning to be said, but no matter how much I wanted to just tell her, my chest felt too tight.  Y/N looked at me expectantly, her hands light on my shoulders as we swayed to the music. Her eyes searched mine, and I could feel the weight of her gaze, like she was daring me to break the silence between us.  

But I didn’t.  

“Never mind,” I said, forcing a small smile. “It’s nothing.”  

Her expression faltered for a split second, a flicker of disappointment flashing across her face before she recovered. She gave me a soft smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes.  

“You’re acting weird tonight,” she said, her voice teasing but gentle.  

“I’m fine,” I lied.  

She raised an eyebrow, clearly not believing me, but she let it go. “Okay. If you say so.”  

The song ended, and the crowd around us erupted into cheers and applause. Y/N stepped back, her hands falling from my shoulders, and I immediately missed the warmth of her touch.  

“Let’s get some punch,” she said, her tone light as if she hadn’t noticed the tension that had been building between us all night.  

I nodded, following her off the dance floor, kicking myself for chickening out again.  

Y/N

Joe was acting so strange, and I couldn’t figure out why. He was quieter than usual, and there was something in the way he looked at me that made my stomach twist in knots.  

For a moment on the dance floor, I thought he was going to say something—something important. But then he didn’t, and the moment passed, leaving me feeling more confused than ever.  

I tried to shake it off as we made our way to the refreshment table, but it was hard to ignore the nagging feeling in my chest.  

Before I could dwell on it too much, the DJ’s voice boomed over the speakers, announcing that it was time to crown the prom king and queen.  

“Oh my god, here we go!” Tracy squealed, bouncing on her heels next to me. “This is my favorite part!”  

The crowd gathered around the stage as the principal took the microphone, holding two glittering crowns in his hands.  

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he began, his voice echoing through the ballroom. “The moment you’ve all been waiting for—the announcement of your prom king and queen!”  

The room buzzed with excitement, and I couldn’t help but smile at the energy in the air.  

The principal unfolded a piece of paper and cleared his throat dramatically. “Your 2015 prom king is…” He paused for effect, dragging out the suspense.  

“Joe Burrow!”  

My heart stopped.  

The room erupted into cheers and applause as Joe’s friends pushed him toward the stage. He looked completely shocked, his face turning red as he stumbled forward.  

“Go, Joe!” Sam yelled, clapping him on the back.  

Joe climbed onto the stage, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly as the principal placed the crown on his head. He looked out at the crowd, his eyes wide and uncertain, and when his gaze landed on me, I couldn’t help but laugh.  

He looked like he wanted to bolt.  

“And now,” the principal continued, holding up the second crown, “your 2015 prom queen is…”  

I barely had time to register the words before they hit me.  

“Y/N Y/L/N!”  

My jaw dropped.  

Tracy shrieked, grabbing my arm and shaking me. “Oh my god, Y/N! You won!”  

The crowd cheered again, and I felt my cheeks flush as everyone turned to look at me.  

“Go,” Tracy urged, pushing me toward the stage. “Go get your crown!”  

I stumbled forward, my heart racing as I climbed onto the stage. Joe was standing there, still looking like he couldn’t believe what was happening, and when I reached him, he gave me a lopsided smile.  

“Guess it’s our night,” he said softly.  

I laughed nervously, and before I could respond, the principal placed the crown on my head. The crowd roared, and for a moment, I couldn’t think about anything except how surreal this all felt.  

“I voted for you, actually.” He said to me. “Everyone else felt wrong.”

“And now, for the king and queen’s first dance!” the DJ announced, cueing up a slow song.  

My stomach flipped.  

Joe held out his hand, his eyes meeting mine. “Shall we?”  

I hesitated for half a second before taking his hand. “Let’s do it.”  

JOE BURROW.

I couldn’t believe it.  

Of all the people to win prom king and queen, it had to be us.  

The crowd parted as we stepped onto the dance floor, the music soft and slow. I held her close, my hands resting on her waist, and for the first time all night, everything else faded away.  

She looked up at me, her eyes sparkling under the dim lights. “This is… unexpected,” she said, her voice light and teasing.  

I chuckled, feeling a little more at ease. “Yeah. I guess it is.”  

We swayed to the music, and for a moment, it felt like we were the only two people in the room.  

“You’re a good dancer,” she said, surprising me.  

“Don’t sound so shocked,” I replied, grinning. “My mom uses me as a pair for her dance classes every wednesday.”

She laughed, and the sound sent a warm rush through me.  

I wanted to say something—anything—that would let her know how I felt. But every time I opened my mouth, the words got stuck. So instead, I just held her a little closer, hoping she could feel everything I couldn’t say.  

Y/N

Dancing with Joe felt like a dream.  

The music, the lights, the way his hands fit so perfectly on my waist—it was all too perfect, too much.  

And yet, it wasn’t enough.  

I wanted to say something to him, to break the tension that had been building between us all night. But I didn’t know how to start, or what to say.  

So I just smiled, letting myself get lost in the moment.  

As the song came to an end, the crowd erupted into applause, and Joe stepped back, his hands lingering on my waist for just a second longer than necessary.  

“You’re amazing, Y/N,” he said, his voice barely audible over the noise.  

I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could, Tracy grabbed my arm, pulling me back into the chaos of the crowd.  

I glanced back at Joe, my heart aching with everything I didn’t say.  

But the night wasn’t over yet. 

It was hard to believe that prom had ended. We had just been crowned king and queen, dancing beneath the dim lights, and now here I was, stumbling out of the ballroom with Joe, our friends trailing behind us like a pack of wild animals, laughing and shouting.

“I can’t believe you’re the prom queen,” Tracy yelled, her voice echoing in the parking lot. “You deserve it, though. No one shines like you.”

I laughed, the night air cool on my flushed cheeks. “I don’t know about that,” I said, glancing over at Joe who was walking beside me, his hand brushing against mine. My stomach fluttered at the contact, but I didn’t say anything.

The parking lot was chaotic as everyone piled into cars. Tracy, Sam, and the others crammed into one, while Joe and I ended up in another with a few other friends, laughing and joking like it was just another night. But it didn’t feel like just another night. This felt different. This felt like the last time we’d all be together in this way.

“You guys are gonna miss each other so much,” Tracy said, her words a bit slurred. “This is the last time we’re all gonna be together.”

I looked around at everyone—Sam and his crew, Tracy with her beaming smile, and Joe, sitting across from me, his eyes twinkling in the dim light. I didn’t want this night to end. It felt like the end of something—something big. 

JOE BURROW.

The night ended up going by in a blur. The prom was exactly what I expected and nothing like I imagined. My crown, which had been placed atop my head in a daze, felt heavier with every passing second. But as I glanced over at Y/N, standing beside me, I realized that tonight wasn't about the crown or the glittering dance floor—it was about the fact that we had both made it here together. 

As soon as the prom ended, everyone piled into cars, the laughter and chaos of the night spilling out into the streets. Tracy and Sam were in the front seats, and the rest of us packed into two cars heading for our usual spot: the 24/7 fast food joint down the street. 

“Best night ever!” Tracy yelled from the front seat, her voice full of excitement and maybe a little too much sugar.

Y/N, sitting next to me, leaned her head back against the seat and sighed. “Honestly, this is the only place I wanted to end up tonight.” 

I glanced at her, a grin tugging at my lips. “It’s perfect, huh?” 

The group of us shuffled into the fast food place, everyone high on adrenaline, and suddenly, the night felt endless. I grabbed a large soda and some fries, and we all sat around, teasing each other, making fun of the awkward moments at prom. It didn’t take long before someone—probably Sam—suggested spiking the punch. 

Y/N was sipping her soda innocently, but I could tell the punch had begun to work its magic. Her eyes were a little glassy, and her giggles were more frequent than usual. I could feel it too. The alcohol had taken over, making everything feel lighter, blurrier. 

After a few more rounds of punch and laughing over ridiculous prom photos, our group decided to walk. No one really wanted the night to end just yet. Y/N and I stumbled a bit, weaving through the streets as we made our way toward my house. It was a warm night, and we walked slowly, the stars twinkling above us, as if everything in the universe had aligned for this very moment.

By the time we made it to the end of the place, I was barely able to keep my eyes open. But I didn’t want to go home yet. Not like this.

“Joe, we’re walking,” Sam said, slurring his words as he jumped out of the car and started heading toward the neighborhood. “Come on! We’re taking the long way back!”

I looked at Y/N, and she just shrugged, smiling. “I’m in,” she said, laughing.

And just like that, we all piled out of the cars and started walking through the dark streets, the cool night air refreshing against our skin as we stumbled down familiar roads.

We walked past houses, the sidewalks empty, the only sounds coming from our group and the occasional rustling of trees. We didn’t have any particular destination in mind. We just walked and talked, our laughter echoing through the empty streets. It was so easy, so natural, like we had all the time in the world.

At some point, we ended up on my street. My house loomed ahead, warm lights spilling out from the windows. We’d spent so many nights here before, just talking and watching the stars, and tonight felt like no different.

I led Y/N to my backyard, where a small patch of grass sat beneath a canopy of trees, almost tripping on our feet. The stars were clear in the sky, shining brighter than I had ever seen them before. It was like everything was glowing, alive, and the world was just right.

We laid down on the grass, our arms touching, but not quite close enough for me to feel her warmth completely. The alcohol from the punch made everything fuzzy, the stars spinning above us. My thoughts were scattered, my words slow, but somehow it all felt peaceful.

She was lying beside me, her hand resting on her stomach, her eyes on the sky. I could feel her breath in the air, feel her presence beside me. And in that moment, I realized how much I didn’t want this night to end.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she said, her voice quiet as I stared at the stars.  

“Yeah,” I replied, my voice a little deeper than usual, probably from the alcohol. “It’s crazy how small we are, you know? It’s like everything else fades away.”

My body felt heavy with the weight of everything I had left unsaid. The way I felt about her. The way she made me feel every time she was near.

“I’m glad you’re here with me tonight, Joe,” She whispered.

“I’m glad you’re here too, Y/N.” There was a slight hesitation in my voice. A flicker of something I couldn’t place.

The alcohol had taken over, and everything felt like it was happening in slow motion. The way her voice sounded, the way the world felt too big and too small at the same time—it was all a blur, but one thing was crystal clear: I didn’t want this night to end. I didn’t want her to leave.

I turned my head slightly, catching a glimpse of her face in the dim light of the stars. She looked like she was deep in thought, her lips slightly parted. There was something about the way she looked at me, something that made my heart race and my stomach twist.

I didn’t think. I didn’t even hesitate. I just leaned toward her, closing the distance between us. The moment our lips met, everything else melted away. The world stopped spinning, and all that mattered was her. Her taste, the way her lips felt against mine, the way she kissed me back as if she’d been waiting for this moment too.

It was like time didn’t exist. Like it was just the two of us, under the stars, finally doing what we had both wanted to do for so long.

When we pulled away, breathless and dizzy from the kiss, neither of us said anything. We just laid there, looking up at the sky, the stars blurring into streaks of light as our minds swirled.

The night ended with a haze, the kiss lingering in my mind but slowly fading as the alcohol wore off. The stars were still shining, but everything felt a little more distant now.

I couldn’t remember exactly how we got back to the house, how we ended up on my couch, or how we fell asleep, side by side. But when I woke up the next morning, my mind was foggy, my lips still tingling, and the memory of the stars felt far away.

I could remember nothing about last night.

[tea-moth11]

@ultramarinaa I got my keychain in! Looks amazing and perfect to add to my TMA goodie hoard.