#he wasn’t exactly laughing but WHATEVER

[sofa-king-lame]

39. “I forgot I was a single parent.” ? 👀

Thank you! And thank you to everyone who sent me prompts. I will get to them over the next few days!

—

“Did you know single fathers make up only sixteen percent of single parent households?” Buck asks. Eddie nods his head but doesn’t look up from the book he’s reading, humming in agreement. He’s content just listening to the sound of Buck’s voice, especially off the back of their last call.

“That’s…not a lot,” Hen muses. “What else you got for us?”

“That number has increased 60% in the last ten years,” Buck continues. “It’s one of the fastest growing family situations in the US.”

“Huh,” Chimney hums. “I have spoken to a larger than usual number of single dads at parties we’ve been taking Jee to recently.”

“Why exactly are you looking up statistics on single dads?” Bobby asks. Buck shrugs just a little too casually and continues scrolling on his phone.

“Yeah, why not single mothers?” Eddie pipes up.

“Do you see any single mothers around here?” Buck questions.

“Do you see any single fathers?” Eddie retorts. The room goes silent, and when he looks up everyone is staring at him. Hen looks confused, Bobby raises an eyebrow at him, Chimney looks like he’s trying not to laugh, and Buck…he can’t read the expression on Buck’s face.

“Eddie…you’re a single father,” Hen reminds him gently, and…fuck. What the fuck just happened.

“Uh, right,” Eddie forces out, laughing in a way that isn’t fooling anyone. He is blessedly, wonderfully, saved by the alarm blaring.

—

Back to back calls keep them busy until shift change, and Eddie pointedly ignores the weird looks everyone throws him in the back of the engine. Everyone except Buck, who won’t look at him.

—

“So, uh. What the hell was that?” Chimney snorts, popping a fresh piece of gum in his mouth. They’re finally back at the station, Eddie has showered and is looking for Buck.

“Yeah, I’m not discussing this with you,” Eddie huffs. “Did Buck leave already?”

“Hightailed it out of here while you were showering,” Chimney sighs.

“Fantastic. Did he say where he was going?” Eddie asks. Usually Buck would follow him home where they’d cook whatever meal it was time for, eat, and pretend they weren’t falling asleep on the couch while watching a movie. If Christopher wasn’t at school he’d eat with them, ask for Buck’s help with his homework, then hole himself away in his room until it was time for bed.

“Home,” Chimney tells him, and Eddie doesn’t think twice before heading for his own house. As he suspected, Buck’s Jeep is already in the driveway with Buck sitting on the front steps.

“You know you have a key, right?” Eddie says, trying and failing to keep his tone light.

“Are you seeing someone?” Buck asks quietly, sounding…broken.

“Like a therapist?” Eddie asks back, though he knows what Buck means. Eddie hasn’t dated since the whole Kim disaster, doesn’t want to date anyone who isn’t Buck.

“Like a woman,” Buck sighs. “Are - are you dating? Because back at the station, you said…it seemed like you were saying you’re dating someone and it’s serious enough that you think of them as Christopher’s second parent. And I just don’t understand why you wouldn’t tell me.”

“I’m not dating anyone,” Eddie assures him. “And I was thinking of you.”

“What?” Buck breathes, finally standing up. Eddie’s on the path, so on the step Buck is towering over him. It makes Eddie feel safe.

“I honestly forgot I was a single parent,” Eddie laughs, “because you’re always here for Chris.”

“Oh,” Buck murmurs. A complicated series of emotions flicker across his face, just for a fraction of a second before they’re gone and Buck is schooling his expression into something neutral. His shaking hands betray his confidence.

“And for me,” Eddie adds, joining Buck on the step. Eddie had realised minutes into knowing Buck that face to face, he was directly eye level with Buck’s mouth. It’s very distracting, especially when Eddie notices Buck’s eyes flick down his own mouth. Eddie takes the opportunity to take one of Buck’s hands and squeeze, Buck returning the grip tightly

“I mean, yeah,” Buck chuckles softly. “I always will be.”

“I love you,” Eddie confesses quietly. “I haven’t thought of myself as a single parent for a long time. Because we’ve had you.”

“You always will,” Buck whispers. “I love you too. Like, a stupid amount.”

“Good,” Eddie hums. “I’m gonna kiss you now.”

“Okay,” Buck sighs, not even giving Eddie the chance to move before he a closing the space between them to press his lips against Eddie’s. It’s warm, it’s syrupy, it’s so very Buck, and Eddie is never letting him go.

[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

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.

[lizziesangel]

can you do another one shot of introverted reader and extroverted qb Rafe and he just follows her around and still crushes on her and then he like asks her out or something you can make this in your own way

finally part two!! ⟢ part one

as the self-defense unit wraps up, you and lana grab your things and head toward the locker rooms. the air between you is lighter now, the drills and awkward encounters behind you—for the moment, at least. lana nudges you with her shoulder, her mischievous grin already in place.

“did you see what happened to jason in the middle of class?” she asks, barely containing her laughter. “i mean, secondhand embarrassment doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

you stifle a laugh, glancing over at her. “what did he think was going to happen? asking mia out in the middle of the drills? who even does that?”

lana throws her hands up dramatically. “exactly! like, dude, we’re learning how to escape a chokehold, and he’s over here trying to escape the friend zone. bad timing, jason. bad. timing.”

you snort, unable to hold back your amusement. “and then mia’s face? she looked like she wanted the ground to swallow her whole.”

“she didn’t even say anything! she just shook her head and walked away!” lana cackles, practically doubling over as she recalls the moment. “poor guy stood there for a solid ten seconds, looking like he’d just been hit by a bus.”

“it was funny,” you admit, “but also kind of sad. like, imagine building up all that courage just to get publicly rejected.”

lana shakes her head, still giggling. “i mean, yeah, i felt bad for him. for, like, half a second. but you have to admit, it was iconic. mia didn’t even blink.”

you laugh, the image replaying in your mind, but then lana’s smirk takes on a different edge. she gives you a sly look, and you immediately know you’re in trouble.

“speaking of moments,” she begins, dragging out the words, “what’s going on with you and rafe cameron?”

your laughter dies in your throat, replaced by a groan. “oh my gosh, lana. nothing is going on.”

“nothing?” she echoes, raising an eyebrow. “girl, he was staring at you like you were the answer to all of life’s questions. and don’t even try to deny it—i saw it.”

you roll your eyes, trying to play it cool. “he wasn’t staring. he was just… focused on the drill.”

“focused on you,” she corrects, wagging a finger at you. “i mean, i can’t blame him. you two looked like the cover of some YA romance novel over there, all wrist grabs and lingering eye contact.”

“lana, oh my gosh, stop.” you shove her lightly, your face burning. “it’s not like that.”

“oh, but you wish it was?” she teases, wiggling her eyebrows.

“no!” you insist, laughing despite yourself. “you’re so annoying.”

lana grins triumphantly, but before she can press further, you narrow your eyes and shift the spotlight. “okay, let’s talk about you and topper, then.”

her smug expression falters. “what about me and topper?” she asks, feigning innocence.

you mimic her earlier teasing tone. “oh, nothing. just that you were blushing a lot while you two were partnered up. and don’t even try to deny it—i saw it.”

“i was not blushing,” she huffs, but her face betrays her, turning pink at the accusation.

“you so were!” you shoot back, laughing. “and don’t think i didn’t notice how he kept leaning in to talk to you, all ‘are you okay? is my grip too tight?’”

“okay, first of all, he was just being polite,” lana retorts, crossing her arms. “second of all, you’re deflecting.”

“am i, though?” you challenge, raising an eyebrow. “because it sounds to me like someone has a little crush.”

lana groans, throwing her head back dramatically. “fine! whatever! he’s cute, okay? but he’s also topper thornton, which means he’s probably, like, ninety percent annoying and ten percent tolerable.”

you smirk. “sounds like someone’s trying to justify their feelings.”

“and it sounds like someone’s avoiding the fact that rafe cameron was basically undressing them with his eyes,” she fires back.

the two of you dissolve into laughter, your playful banter echoing down the hallway. for all the awkwardness of the class, you can’t help but feel grateful for moments like this—light, ridiculous, and completely you.

it’s been a week since the self-defense class, but you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about rafe cameron since then. not that you’d admit it to lana.

she’d never let you hear the end of it. right now, though, you’re trying to focus on your spanish class, scribbling notes as señor martinez drones on about verb conjugations. lana is sitting to your left, doodling absentmindedly in her notebook, while rafe is on your right, leaning back in his chair with a bored expression that says he’d rather be anywhere else.

you try not to notice how close he’s sitting. or how his cologne lingers faintly in the air. definitely not noticing.

“señor cameron,” señor martinez suddenly says, breaking through the hum of your thoughts. you glance up to see the older man staring pointedly at rafe, his thick-rimmed glasses slipping down his nose. “por favor, conteste esta pregunta. ¿cómo se dice, ‘i like to play football’ en español?”

rafe blinks, his posture straightening slightly. you can tell from the way his brow furrows that he has no idea what the answer is. he shifts in his seat, his gaze darting toward you briefly before landing back on the teacher.

“uh…” he starts, clearly stalling. “yo… gusta… uh…”

you glance at him out of the corner of your eye, trying not to laugh at his obvious struggle. he looks genuinely panicked now, scratching the back of his neck like it’ll somehow help him come up with the right words.

without thinking, you lean slightly toward him and scribble on the edge of your notebook: me gusta jugar al fútbol.

sliding the notebook closer to him with your left hand, you tap the words lightly with your pen before sitting back, acting like nothing happened. rafe’s eyes dart to the paper, and then to you. he catches on quickly, his lips twitching into a small, grateful smile.

“me gusta jugar al fútbol,” he repeats, his pronunciation a little off but passable. he looks up at señor martinez, who nods approvingly.

“muy bien, señor cameron,” the teacher says before moving on to the next victim in his line of questioning.

rafe exhales quietly, and you feel his shoulder brush yours as he leans closer, whispering just loud enough for you to hear. “thanks. i owe you one.”

you shrug, keeping your eyes on your notebook. “you’ll survive.”

“yeah, because of you,” he says, his tone teasing but sincere. you can feel his gaze lingering on you, and your cheeks warm involuntarily.

lana, who has been unusually quiet, suddenly clears her throat dramatically. “i see you two are getting along nicely,” she whispers, her voice dripping with mock innocence.

you nudge her under the desk with your foot, shooting her a warning look. “focus, lana.”

“oh, i am,” she replies with a grin, glancing pointedly between you and rafe.

you and lana walk out of spanish class, your bags slung over your shoulders as you weave through the bustling hallway. the faint smell of old textbooks and cleaning supplies lingers in the air, blending with the hum of chatter from other students.

“so,” lana says, adjusting the strap of her bag and glancing at you, “are we pretending that señor martinez’s lecture didn’t put the entire class to sleep?”

you snort. “you mean only you? i saw you zoning out halfway through.”

“hey, i was conserving my energy,” she defends, holding up her hands. “that conjugation nonsense was not giving what it needed to give.”

you laugh softly, shaking your head as the two of you make your way toward your lockers. the conversation shifts to weekend plans, lana animatedly describing some pop-up event she wants to drag you to, when someone passes by on your right.

it’s him.

“hey,” he says, his voice breaking through your conversation like a gentle ripple. he’s walking just slow enough to catch your attention without completely stopping. “thanks for earlier. you saved me with that spanish sentence.”

he flashes you a smile—not the usual cocky smirk you’ve seen him give other people, but something softer, genuine. the kind that makes your chest tighten unexpectedly.

“oh, uh, no problem,” you manage to say, your voice steady despite the warmth creeping up your neck.

he gives a small nod, the corners of his mouth tugging upward just a little more, and then continues walking past you, blending into the crowd.

lana waits until he’s out of earshot before turning to you, her eyebrows raised and her grin positively devious. “okay. what was that?”

you roll your eyes, trying to play it cool. “he was just saying thank you.”

“mmm, sure,” she says, drawing out the words. “because guys like rafe cameron totally go out of their way to say thank you for help in class.”

“it’s called being polite,” you counter, though your voice wavers slightly, betraying your attempt at indifference.

“polite?” lana mimics, her voice dripping with mockery. “girl, he smiled at you like you just solved all his problems. that was not polite; that was something else.”

you shake your head, biting back a smile. “you’re ridiculous.”

“am i?” she teases, bumping her shoulder into yours. “or am i just really good at spotting crush vibes when i see them?”

you groan, quickening your pace to escape her relentless teasing, but the fluttery feeling in your chest doesn’t go away.

a few days rolls by, and it’s time for PE again. the memory of last week’s self-defense unit still lingers in your mind, though you’ve done your best to push it aside. unfortunately, lana hasn’t let you live it down.

“back to the battlefield,” she says dramatically as you walk into the gym together, her water bottle swinging in her hand. “do you think coach davis will make us pair up the same way as last time?”

you glance at her, trying to gauge whether she’s genuinely curious or just looking for an opportunity to tease you again. “i don’t know,” you reply, keeping your tone casual. “probably. he seems like a ‘stick to the plan’ kind of guy.”

lana smirks, nudging you lightly. “good news for you, then.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?” you ask, feigning innocence as you open your water bottle and take a sip.

“oh, nothing,” she replies with a sly grin. “just that a certain quarterback might be looking forward to this more than you think.”

“ooh, look,” lana adds in a whisper, nudging you with her elbow as you make your way toward your spot. “there’s your favorite partner.”

you glance over instinctively and spot rafe standing with the rest of the football team. he’s tossing a basketball between his hands, chatting with topper and a couple of others, looking relaxed and completely at ease.

you try not to linger too long, but as if sensing your gaze, he looks up and meets your eyes. his lips curve into a small, knowing smile, and you quickly look away, your heart doing an unintentional somersault.

“stop it,” you mutter to lana, who’s practically vibrating with excitement at your reaction.

“i’m not even doing anything,” she says innocently, though the smug look on her face says otherwise.

you roll your eyes, but before you can fire back, coach davis claps his hands together, gathering the class’s attention.

“alright, folks!” he booms. “we’re picking up where we left off last week. same pairs, same drills, new moves.”

lana shoots you a triumphant look, barely able to contain her laugh. “told you.”

“shut up,” you mutter under your breath, your cheeks already warming as you glance toward the corner of the gym. sure enough, there’s rafe, standing with the other football players, tossing a basketball between his hands and looking entirely unbothered by the world around him.

when your name is called, followed by rafe’s, you take a deep breath and start walking toward him, feeling Lana’s smug gaze on your back the entire way.

“guess it’s us again,” he says, stopping in front of you. his tone is casual, but there’s a glimmer of amusement in his eyes.

“lucky me,” you reply, trying to sound neutral as you set your water bottle on the floor, though your voice comes out a little more sarcastic than you intended.

he chuckles, his hands resting lightly on his hips. “you say that like it’s a bad thing.”

you roll your eyes but can’t help the small smile tugging at your lips.

“ready for round two?” he asks, his tone teasing but warm. there’s a flicker of something in his eyes—maybe amusement, maybe anticipation—but you don’t dwell on it for long.

“i’m ready if you are,” you reply, trying to match his confidence.

this week’s drills involve more complex moves—blocking, evading, and redirecting. rafe listens to coach davis’s explanation but keeps sneaking glances at you, like he’s more interested in your reaction than the actual instructions. you catch him once, and he quickly looks away, scratching the back of his neck with a sheepish grin.

when it’s time to practice, rafe takes his position in front of you, his hands raised slightly. “alright, let’s see what you’ve got.”

you narrow your eyes playfully. “don’t go easy on me.”

his grin widens. “wouldn’t dream of it.”

the first few attempts are clumsy, just like last week, but this time, there’s an unspoken ease between you. the tension feels lighter, replaced by a strange sort of rhythm. when you stumble on one of the blocks, rafe catches your arm instinctively, steadying you without a second thought.

“you okay?” he asks, his voice soft.

“yeah,” you reply quickly, brushing it off. “just lost my balance.”

“good thing i’m here, then,” he says, his grin returning. he’s teasing, but there’s a sincerity in his tone that makes your stomach flip.

as the drill continues, you notice how his confidence contrasts with the careful way he moves around you, never pushing too hard, always adjusting to your pace. it’s almost… considerate. by the end of the session, you’re both slightly out of breath, your cheeks flushed—not just from the exercise.

rafe is surprisingly focused, following coach’s instructions and helping you figure out the movements without making it awkward—well, mostly. he adjusts his stance a couple of times, his hands hovering near your arms to guide you, but he never oversteps, which you appreciate.

“alright, now try shifting your weight forward,” he says, watching as you attempt to push him off balance.

you give it your best shot, planting your feet and leaning into the motion, but he barely moves, his footing solid.

“okay, not bad,” he says, grinning. “but maybe try using a little more…” he pauses, clearly searching for the right word.

“force?” you supply, raising an eyebrow.

“yeah, that.” he nods, his grin widening. “don’t be afraid to go for it.”

you try again, this time putting more effort into the movement. to your surprise, he actually stumbles back a step, his expression shifting to mock surprise.

“whoa—okay,” he says, holding up his hands in surrender. “you’ve got some hidden strength there.”

you laugh despite yourself, shaking your head. “yeah, sure. i’m terrifying.”

“hey, i’m just saying,” he replies, his tone teasing. “remind me not to mess with you.”

lana, paired with topper a few feet away, catches the exchange and immediately starts making faces at you behind rafe’s back. you shoot her a glare, mouthing stop while trying not to laugh.

“what’s so funny?” rafe asks, glancing between you and lana.

“nothing,” you say quickly, straightening up and avoiding his gaze.

laa smirks, her voice carrying just enough for you to hear. “oh, it’s definitely something.”

you groan inwardly, already dreading whatever teasing lana has planned for later. for now, though, you focus on the drill, pretending not to notice the way rafe’s smile lingers just a little

the end of class rolls around, and as everyone starts clearing up and heading toward the locker rooms, rafe lingers near you, casually adjusting the strap of his gym bag. lana notices, of course, and shoots you a knowing look before wandering off toward the door with topper trailing behind her.

you sling your water bottle over your shoulder, about to follow, when rafe steps a little closer. “hey,” he says, his tone casual but with just a hint of hesitation.

“hi,” you reply, glancing up at him curiously.

“so, uh…” he rubs the back of his neck, his usual confidence slipping for just a moment. “are you going to the game tonight?”

you blink, caught a little off guard. “the football game?”

“yeah,” he gives a short laugh, as if there’s any other game he could be talking about. “i mean, it’s kind of a big one. with a rival school and all that.”

you chew on your lip, considering. “ah, i don’t know. i haven’t really thought about it.”

“oh, come on,” he says, a teasing edge creeping into his tone. “i’m playing tonight.”

“i know,” you say with a faint laugh. “you’re the captain.”

there’s a flicker of something in his eyes—maybe amusement, maybe something else entirely. “right. so… you’ll come?”

before you can answer, lana reappears, practically materializing out of thin air. “we’ll be there!” she announces brightly, cutting off whatever excuse you were about to come up with.

your head snaps toward her, eyes wide. “we will?”

“yeah,” lana says, completely unbothered by your subtle glare. “wouldn’t miss it.”

rafe’s grin widens, his gaze flickering between you and lana. “great. see you tonight, then.”

just as you’re about to protest—or at least question why lana is suddenly speaking for you—topper walks by, overhearing the last bit of the conversation. he stops, turning to lana with a raised eyebrow.

“you’re going to the game?” he asks, his tone curious but laced with something else, something like amusement.

lana tilts her head at him, a playful smirk dancing on her lips. “why? you don’t want me there?”

topper stares at her for a second, then shakes his head, the corner of his mouth twitching into a half-smile. “no, i didn’t say that.”

“good,” lana replies breezily, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “because we’ll be there.”

topper blinks, momentarily at a loss for words, before recovering with a lopsided grin. “cool. yeah. that’s… cool.”

you glance between them, unsure whether to roll your eyes or laugh. meanwhile, rafe is still standing next to you, watching the whole exchange unfold with an amused look on his face.

“see you tonight,” rafe says again, this time directing it more toward you. his voice is quieter, as if it’s just for you, and there’s something in his tone that makes your stomach flip.

“yeah,” you manage, your voice a little softer than you intended. “see you.”

rafe’s grin widens, his eyes lighting up in a way that makes your chest tighten. “great. see you then.”

as he walks away with topper, lana nudges you with her elbow, a mischievous glint in her eye.

“you’re welcome,” she says, grinning.

“oh my gosh, did you see the way he was looking at you? you’re so going to that game.”

“lana,” you groan, but she’s already steering you toward the door, topper trailing behind like a lost puppy.

“oh, and topper?” lana calls over her shoulder. “you’d better actually play well tonight if i’m showing up.”

topper laughs, running a hand through his hair. “don’t worry, i’ll make it worth your while.”

“you’re welcome, by the way,” she says, grinning.

“for what?” you ask, even though you already know where this is going.

“getting us prime seats to watch your boy play tonight,” she teases.

you groan, shaking your head. “he’s not my—”

“oh, save it,” she interrupts, laughing. “i’m just saying, this is gonna be very entertaining.”

you shoot lana a look, but she just grins, completely unfazed. “you realize your boy is going to be there as well.”

“ahhh, this is going to be so much fun,” she says, and for some reason, you can’t help but smile too.

you and lana are in her room, sorting through her closet to find something suitable for the football game. clothes are strewn across her bed, some tossed on the floor, and lana is holding up a navy sweater against herself in the mirror.

“what about this? casual but cute, right?” she asks, turning to you.

“it’s cute,” you say, trying not to laugh at the chaos around you. “but are we really dressing up for a football game?”

lana shoots you a look. “first of all, yes. second of all, you need to look extra cute. for a special reason.”

lana holds up a cropped sweater, frowning. “do i go with this? or the green one with the little buttons?”

“the green one,” you say without hesitation. “it makes your eyes pop.”

she nods thoughtfully, tossing the sweater onto a growing pile of rejected options. “okay, green it is. what about you? you can’t just show up in your usual jeans and hoodie. this is a game. there’s a whole vibe.”

before you can respond, lana’s younger sister amalia bursts into the room, a bundle of energy as always. she’s clutching a bowl of popcorn, her hair in a loose braid. at fifteen, she has that untamed curiosity that makes her impossible to ignore.

“what’s going on in here?” amalia asks, plopping down on the floor and grabbing one of lana’s discarded sneakers.

“getting ready for the game,” lana says, tossing the sweater onto the bed and grabbing a scarf.

amalia plops onto the corner of the bed, narrowly avoiding a pile of jeans. “so, like… are you going because you actually care about football, like, someone specific?”

“amalia!” you gasp, laughing, while lana groans.

“obviously, we’re going for the game,” lana says, dragging out the last word like it’s painfully obvious.

“sure you are,” amalia says, smirking. she looks at you. “so, which is it? topper or rafe?”

both lana and you freeze mid-motion, slowly turning to look at her. “what?” you say in unison, your voices dripping with confusion and maybe a hint of panic.

“oh my god, it is true.” amalia’s eyes widen, her tone full of mock scandal. “i mean, i heard you talking on the phone,” she says nonchalantly, taking a bite of her granola bar.

lana’s face contorts into a mix of horror and disbelief. “you were eavesdropping?”

“no!” amalia says defensively, though her grin betrays her. “i just walked past your room, and i heard you say something about rafe. or was it topper? honestly, you were talking so fast, i couldn’t tell.”

“besides, we have thin walls. i can hear every conversation you have.”

you bury your face in your hands while lana groans loudly, tossing a sweatshirt at the younger sister. “you’re the absolute worst, you know that?”

she giggles, dodging the sweatshirt. “what? i’m just curious! so, which one is it? rafe or topper?”

“neither,” you say quickly, trying to sound as calm as possible. “we’re just going because… we have nothing better to do.”

amalia doesn’t look convinced, her eyes darting between the two of you like she’s trying to crack a code. “uh-huh. sure.”

you bury your face in your hands. “can we not do this right now?”

“oh, come on,” she says, grinning. “i have to live vicariously through you guys. my life is so boring.”

her older sister snickers. “you’re fifteen, amalia. you’re supposed to have a boring life.”

amalia rolls her eyes. “whatever. you’re lucky mom and dad aren’t here, or they’d totally make me go with you guys.”

lana points to the door, her tone firm. “okay, get out. now. before i tell mom you stole her granola bars again.”

amalia gasps dramatically, clutching the half-eaten bar to her chest. “you wouldn’t.”

with a huff, amalia stands and heads for the door, but not before throwing one last grin over her shoulder. “fine, but if you don’t tell me what happens tonight, i’m stealing your makeup.”

“go away, amalia!” lana yells, and the door slams shut behind her.

“you’re such a snitch,” could be heard from the other side of the door.

as the silence settles, you and lana exchange a look, and then burst into laughter.

“she’s impossible,” you say, shaking your head.

lana smirks, reaching for her eyeliner. “she’s also not wrong about you and rafe, though.”

you grab a pillow and throw it at her. “shut up!”

the stadium lights flood the field as you and lana make your way to the bleachers. the energy in the air is palpable, the crowd buzzing with excitement as the game is set to begin. the school colors are everywhere—navy and red banners, painted faces, and a sea of matching shirts.

lana’s decked out in navy, her outfit effortlessly stylish, while you’re in red, wearing your school hoodie with pride. she loops her arm through yours as you weave through the crowd.

“this is so chaotic,” lana says, laughing as you dodge a group of cheerleaders running toward the sidelines.

“you’re the one who wanted to come early,” you tease.

“early means we get good seats,” she replies, tugging you along.

as you near the edge of the bleachers, a familiar figure catches your eye. rafe is standing by the fence near the field, already in his uniform, looking every bit the golden boy quarterback he is. his helmet is tucked under one arm, and he’s talking to a teammate, but the moment he spots you, his face lights up.

he steps away, jogging over. “hey!”

“hi,” you reply, a little breathless from the crowd.

“i, uh, saved you and lana some seats,” he says, gesturing toward a spot near the middle of the bleachers, right in prime view of the field.

“oh, thanks!” you say, genuinely surprised and a little touched.

“of course,” he says casually, but there’s a flicker of something in his tone that makes your stomach flip.

meanwhile, lana has already found her focus—topper is lingering a few steps away, looking effortlessly cool in his jersey. she doesn’t waste any time sidling up to him, her voice light and playful as she says, “topper, is this your game face, or do you always look this serious?”

topper smirks, tilting his head at her. “you tell me. think it’s intimidating enough?”

“intimidating? not quite,” she teases, twirling a strand of hair around her finger.

you glance at her, rolling your eyes slightly but smiling. she’s clearly in her element, and for a moment, you’re distracted by their banter.

“hey,” rafe says, drawing your attention back to him.

you look up at him, his expression softer now. “yeah?”

“so, i was thinking…” he starts, trailing off for just a second before giving you a teasing look.

you arch an eyebrow, leaning slightly closer. “really? you were thinking?”

his grin deepens, and he nudges your arm lightly with his elbow. “yeah, shut up. i was thinking…” he pauses again, this time looking a little nervous, though he hides it well. “if i win this game tonight, would you… wanna go out with me?”

you blink, caught completely off guard. his words hang in the air for a moment, and you can’t help the way your lips curve into a smile.

“seriously?” you ask, your voice soft but full of amusement.

“dead serious,” he replies, his eyes locked on yours, a mix of confidence and vulnerability in his expression.

your smile widens, warmth blooming in your chest. “well… i guess i’ll have to cheer extra loud, then.”

his grin stretches across his face, brighter than you’ve ever seen it. “i’ll hold you to that.”

before you can say anything else, lana suddenly appears at your side, her cheeks slightly pink from talking to topper. “come on, we need to grab those seats before someone else does.”

rafe nods, stepping back but keeping his eyes on you. “i’ll see you after the game?”

you nod, your heart still racing. “good luck, captain.”

“thanks,” he says, his voice warm, before jogging back toward his team.

as you and lana make your way to the bleachers, she nudges you with her elbow, her grin mischievous. “sooo… what was that about?”

you shrug, trying to play it cool, but the smile tugging at your lips gives you away.

“uh-huh,” she says, her tone dripping with satisfaction. “you’re so coming to every game from now on.”

you laugh, feeling a little giddy. maybe you just might.

the game has been intense, and the crowd is on edge. the scoreboard has been a back-and-forth battle, but now, as the clock winds down, rafe's team is trailing by just a few points. the stands are buzzing with nervous energy as the players huddle on the field.

you’re perched on the edge of your seat, your eyes glued to rafe, who is looking more focused than ever. he’s been carrying the weight of the game ever since their second best star player was taken out with an injury. it’s clear that he’s frustrated, his jaw clenched as he scans the field, but there’s something else in his eyes: determination.

topper stands beside him, clearly trying to keep up with the intensity, but it’s hard not to notice that rafe’s doing most of the work. he’s calling the plays, directing the team, and every move he makes looks calculated—almost like he’s pushing his limits, but you can see in the way he carries himself that he’s not going to give up.

the clock is ticking down, seconds slipping away like sand in an hourglass.

“come on, come on!” lana mutters beside you, her voice almost lost in the roar of the crowd. you glance at her, her eyes fixed on rafe and topper, and then at the field. the tension is so thick you could almost cut it with a knife.

rafe takes the ball, his eyes scanning for an opening. he’s got no choice now; it’s all on him. he fakes a pass to topper, sending the defenders rushing toward him, then in one swift motion, he dodges a tackle and charges down the field. the crowd rises to its feet, the energy growing with every step rafe takes.

you can’t help but hold your breath as you watch him break through the last line of defense, topper sprinting beside him, staying just close enough to act as backup. rafe’s legs move like they’re made of steel, his eyes locked on the end zone.

with seconds left on the clock, he passes the ball to topper, who’s just a few yards from the end zone. topper catches it and pivots, leaping into the air just as a defender tries to block him. time seems to slow as the ball arcs through the air and lands perfectly in topper’s hands. the crowd erupts as he crosses the goal line, securing the game-winning touchdown.

you can barely hear yourself think over the deafening roar of the crowd. you jump up with lana, both of you screaming and clapping in excitement. rafe’s face lights up as the team floods onto the field to congratulate topper, but he’s still scanning the crowd for someone.

you catch his eye, and for a split second, everything else fades away. his grin is wide, the exhaustion and tension melting off his face, replaced by sheer triumph.

“looks like you’ll be getting that date after all,” lana says, her voice full of teasing as she nudges you, but you barely hear her. all you can focus on is rafe’s smile, the way he’s looking at you from across the field.

you can feel your heart skip a beat as the final whistle blows. the game is over, and against all odds, rafe’s team pulled through.

lana cheers next to you, but you’re still staring at rafe, a grin tugging at the corner of your lips. he winks at you, the energy of the win still buzzing in his movements.

it’s official: rafe cameron just won the game—and, if you’re being honest, you think he just might’ve won a little bit of your heart too, especially when he was looking right at you after winning the game.

MASTERLIST

CURRENT TAGLIST⋆⭒˚｡⋆

@maybankslover ⟢ @honeyluvsatj ⟢ @zazidot ⟢ @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 ⟢ @lunaleah ⟢ @maybanksangel ⟢ @wtfdudesblog. ⟢ @niktwazny303. ⟢ @outerbanksloverp4l ⟢ @slut4you ⟢ @maybanksgirl69 ⟢ @hstbsl06 ⟢ @percysley

[multi-stays]

Shoulda Been Me

Paring: Idol!Roommate Han Jisung/FemReader

Genre: smut 18+ MDNI/ kinda angsty

Summary: When an on-and-off sexual relationship with Minho takes a turn, your roommate Jisung decides he's had enough.

Note: A smut collab with @inkandtension love ya😘

💜✨Warnings below the cut✨💜

Warnings: slight angst, unprotected sex, oral sex (F Receiving), cussing, asshole Minho, nipple play, hickeys, making out, dry humping

The late afternoon sunlight streamed through the windows of your shared apartment, catching the flecks of dust floating lazily in the air. You sat curled up on the couch, a book in hand, though your eyes skimmed over the words without absorbing them. The feeling in your chest—a mix of loneliness and quiet yearning—had been gnawing at you all day.

Jisung, your roommate, emerged from his room, headphones slung around his neck and a notepad in his hand. His unruly hair and slightly disheveled appearance betrayed hours spent hunched over his desk, working on his latest track. He looked up and grinned when he saw you.

"Still on that same page, huh?" he teased, plopping down on the couch next to you.

You smiled faintly, closing the book. "Yeah, I guess I’m a little distracted."

Jisung tilted his head, studying you. His voice softened. "What’s going on? You seem... off."

"It’s nothing," you said quickly, not wanting to drag him into your mess.

Jisung didn’t press, though the way his gaze lingered told you he wasn’t convinced. Instead, he nudged your arm playfully. "Alright, but don’t forget—ramen night tonight. I’m making my specialty."

You laughed softly. "Your specialty is adding a slice of cheese."

"Exactly. A masterpiece," he said, grinning.

His lightheartedness eased some of the weight in your chest, but it didn’t completely go away. Later, when your phone buzzed with a message from Minho, your heart sank and soared at the same time.

Come over, it read.

The words were as blunt as always. No greeting, no questions about your day—just an order. You stared at the screen for a moment, debating whether to reply. Against your better judgment, you found yourself grabbing your bag.

"Heading out?" Jisung asked as you slipped on your shoes.

"Yeah," you muttered.

"Minho?" he guessed, his tone carefully neutral.

You nodded, avoiding his eyes. Jisung didn’t say anything, but you caught the way his expression hardened slightly before he looked away.

Minho’s apartment was cold, both in temperature and atmosphere. He greeted you at the door with a nod, barely making eye contact.

It was the same routine as always—no small talk, no warmth. You sat awkwardly on the edge of his couch while he disappeared into his room for a moment.

"Come on," he said when he returned, gesturing for you to follow.

And you did.

**

"I don’t think I can keep doing this," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Minho glanced at you, frowning. "What are you talking about?"

"This... whatever this is. I want more, Minho."

He scoffed, sitting up. "I told you from the start I’m not looking for anything serious. You knew what this was."

Your chest tightened. "I thought maybe..." You paused, tears welling in your eyes. "I thought you’d change your mind."

Minho sighed, running a hand through his hair. "This is exactly why I don’t do relationships. You’re too sensitive. If you can’t handle it, maybe we should stop."

His words stung like a slap. You blinked back tears, sitting up. "You’re right. Maybe we should."

"Fine," he said, grabbing his jacket. "I’m going out. Let yourself out."

You stayed in his bed for a moment, feeling a mix of anger and heartbreak. Then you pulled yourself together and left, your mind clouded with regret and humiliation.

The apartment was unusually quiet when you stepped inside, the door clicking softly behind you. Your hands trembled as you clutched your bag, your face streaked with tears that refused to stop falling. You felt like a raw nerve, your confrontation with Minho replaying in your mind like a broken record.

You barely made it to the couch before your legs gave out, your body curling into itself as the sobs you’d been holding back finally escaped. You buried your face in your hands, the ache in your chest threatening to consume you entirely.

"Y/N?"

You froze at the sound of Jisung’s voice, your breath hitching. You hadn’t even heard his door open. When you glanced up, he was standing in the hallway, his expression shifting from confusion to immediate concern.

"What happened?" he asked, hurrying over to kneel in front of you.

You shook your head, trying to brush it off. "It’s nothing, Jisung. I’m fine."

"Fine?" he echoed, his voice tinged with disbelief. "You’re crying on the couch in the middle of the night, and you want me to believe you’re fine?"

You looked away, your fingers clutching at the fabric of your jeans. He was too close, his gaze too intense.

"Y/N," he said softly, his hand resting gently on your knee. "Talk to me. Please."

Something in his voice broke the dam inside you. The words spilled out in a messy, tear-filled confession—everything about your arrangement with Minho, how he treated you, how you felt used and unseen. How you’d hoped things would change but had finally realized they wouldn’t.

By the time you finished, your voice was hoarse, and Jisung’s expression was a mix of fury and heartbreak. He let out a sharp breath, running a hand through his hair as he stood.

“Too sensitive? Is he for real? He’s the insensitive bit-“ he stopped, his voice low but shaking with emotion. "He treated you like that? And you just... let him?"

You flinched at his words, but he softened immediately, crouching down again to meet your eyes. "No, I didn’t mean it like that. I just... God, Y/N, you deserve so much better than this."

You sniffled, wiping at your eyes. "It’s not like I had other options, Jisung. I thought... I don’t know what I thought."

He stared at you for a long moment, his jaw tightening. Then, with a surprising steadiness, he said, "If you needed a good fuck, why didn’t you come to me? At least I’d treat you the way you deserve."

Your head snapped up, your eyes wide. "What?"

"I’m serious," he said, his tone firm yet gentle, though tinged with something heartbreakingly sad. "I’ve been right here, Y/N. And I would never—never—make you feel like this. You deserve someone who sees you, who cares about you. Someone who actually listens."

You stared at him, speechless. There was something in his eyes—something raw and unguarded—that made your heart skip a beat.

"Jisung..."

He stepped closer, his hands finding your shoulders as he leaned in, his breath warm against your cheek. His fingers slid gently over the curve of your shoulder, trailing up to caress the side of your head, his thumb brushing your temple with a tenderness that made your chest ache.

"Darlin’," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, yet heavy with emotion. His forehead rested against yours for a fleeting moment, his other hand cupping your jaw as though afraid you might pull away. "Let me take care of you, just once. Please. Let me show you what it’s supposed to feel like."

His hands lingered on your face, warm and steady, cradling you with a care that felt out of place for him. His thumbs brushed your cheeks, his touch soft, almost hesitant, like he wasn’t sure if you’d let him stay there. His tone was quiet, carrying just the faintest tremor, and his eyes stayed fixed on yours, searching for something he didn’t say.

All your adrenaline surged through you at once and maybe what happened next was inevitable, with the way he stared into your soul and his comment earlier that went straight to your core, you kissed your roommate.

You hoped it wasn't a mistake, you didn't want to lose what you already had with Jisung but you were so needy. His fervent kiss slowly took you away from the corner of the couch you were crying in and made you feel something you never felt before.

His kisses were slow and his movements were all carefully thought of, putting a hand in yours and the other on the back of your head, slowly leaning into you forcing you to lay flat on the couch.

With the new angle, you could feel his erection through his pants, pressing into your leg and throbbing with each kiss.

By now if Minho was hard he'd already be ruthlessly fucking into you, stripping you naked like you were some whore he picked up off the street and treating you like a dog.

But Jisung was gentle and his thoughts completely away from himself, even if that meant he'd cum in his pants without you ever touching him.

His hand trailed down to your breast, slipping under your shirt to massage it bare, his warm soft hands making it so pleasurable.

The slow grinding of his cock into your clit made you buck up into him, his hips matching your rhythm as you both humped each other.

“This is still ok right?” he asked, stopping his movements just for a moment to look at you, eagerness filling his eyes.

“Please, don't stop” you moaned, putting your hand between the two of you to strip your shirt off.

The sight of your bare nipples sent Jisung over the moon and he couldn't stop himself from attaching his lips to one, the other being pinched between his fingers.

He swirled his tongue around your nipple making your whole body shiver. His other hand made its way to your face, caressing your cheek with the back of his hand before bringing them up to your mouth for you to suck, which you instinctually did without thought.

Moans straight from Jisung’s hard penis shot straight up to his mouth and into your nipple, the vibrations making your mind go fuzzy and your nails dig into his back.

His lick soon stopped as he trailed his kisses up to the top of your breast, rolling your skin between his teeth and sucking hard every now and then. You knew he was trying to leave a hickey and you were fine with having his mark, hoping you could flaunt it in front of Minho sometime.

“Such a pretty purple spot on you,” he said pulling his fingers out of your mouth and rubbing the spit on his hickey that sat perched just below your collarbone.

“Can you take my pants off, Please?” you asked, lifting your groin in the air so he could easily slip it off.

He delicately hooked his fingers on the waistband of your pants and slid them down to your feet so you could kick them the rest of the way off. You weren't wearing any underwear so there you were, bare and naked in front of him and he loved every minute of it, eyes darting from your wet folds to your pretty clit that was waiting for him.

He spread your legs open wider. “God you're gorgeous,” he said leaning down, his breath hitting your glistening folds. “I think I'll just,” he planted his tongue on your clit, kissing it softly. “Give you a few kisses first,” he smirked devilishly against your wet skin, spreading you open to slowly start sucking your hole.

You arched your back at the feeling, you've never had oral sex performed on you before. Obviously, you did it to Minho more times than you'd like to admit, but now you were seeing why he liked it so much.

His kissing and sucking made you forget everything about Minho, now only focusing on his lips sucking you.

You propped yourself up on your one hand, getting a better view of him covered in your slick, a particularly large string of your white essence running from his mouth to his neck.

Soon he started sucking hard on your messy folds and you couldn't help but tangle your free hand in Jisung’s messy curls, a small moan escaping his lips when you pulled a bit too hard, edging and pushing him deeper into your vagina.

He nuzzled his face deep within you, looking down at him between your legs you could tell he was just as lost as you, spit and your juices still running down his chin and he couldn't care any less.

His eyes were shut, but he knew very well what spots to suck, your folds plopping out of his mouth so he could focus on your clit.

“Fuck Jisung, please stop” you said, arching into his face. He almost jumped when he heard the words escape your lips. Wiping his mouth on his sleeve, he looked at you almost petrified searching for an answer.

“Did I hurt you? Are you uncomfortable? Am I not any good?” thousands of thoughts filled his mind hoping he did nothing wrong.

“No” you laughed, “I just want you in me before I orgasm, that's all.”

You sat up from where you were lying and chased him into a kiss, slowly undoing his belt as you both stood up, his hands cupping your face as he let you pull his belt out.

You could feel Jisung’s sigh of relief in the kiss as he fiddled with his pants, taking them off quickly and bringing his hands back up to your cheeks.

Jisung kissed you deeply, guiding both of you safely into his bedroom and closing the door with his foot. You layed down on the bed as you waited for Jisung to join you. He scurried over to his bedstand and got out a condom, pulling it open with his teeth and sliding it over his cock.

“Ji”

You looked at him innocently but your intentions were far from it.

“Can we try maybe without the condom?”

His eyes widened and his penis twitched as he slipped the condom off, visibly affected by the thought of being in your bare vagina.

“If that's what you want then I’ll gladly oblige, tonight's about you.”

You shook your head yes, eagerly wanting to feel his cock raw.

He tossed the condom in his small trash bin beside his bed and pumped his cock a few times, getting it lubed up so it would slide in easier.

Seeming he's already seen you naked you didn't feel shy spreading your legs open so he could stand between them. He slid his hands up your stomach and rubbed his thumbs across your soft skin “I'm gonna take care of you.”

Looking down you see his long cock in his hand, slipping it perfectly through your wet folds and in your aching hole.

The feeling of you bottoming him out left Jisung feeling fuzzy, head lulling back with a low groan.

“You take me so well y/n, fuck so tight” he said, as he started to move, putting his hands on your waist for support and pushing in. His cock fit you perfectly, not too small and not too big, unlike Minho’s.

The pain Minho brought you was far worse than any love he could have given you, physically and mentally he exhausted you. Especially towards the end, there was no way you could've loved him.

Now you just wanted to relax, fully letting yourself forget about him and focus only on Jisung. Feel his cock head drag across your spongy walls, his cute face heaving into your ear with each hard thrust.

When Jisung was about to orgasm he dug his pretty nails that were painted matte black into your skin, the stinging of him pushing deeper made it clear to you that he was there, walls fluttering around him as you felt his release fill you up.

“Fuck Ji it feels so good, don't stop please,” you said, grinding your hips into his sloppy thrusts, squelching sounds filling the room as you both rode out your high.

“Am I hurting you?” he asked, referring to his head that was now comfortably placed between your boobs, his arm around your torso, snuggling you tightly.

“No Ji, this is perfect” you said, placing your hand in his and playing with the now very messy tangle of curls in front of you.

Jisung let out a sigh of relief and sunk deeper into your bare skin, breathing in your soft perfume that was still lingering on your skin, a slight tinge of sweat mixed with it.

“Does this mean we can talk about us in a dating kinda way?”

“Im kinda tired right now but we can talk about us tomorrow Ji” you said, hoping you didn't hurt his feelings.

But he didn't answer, looking down his eyes were shut and his hand that once drew a small circle on your skin stopped.

He must've been more tired than he realized, you thought smiling to yourself as you too drifted off to sleep, safe in Jisung’s embrace.

[jaredpadonlyyyy]

𝙆𝙊𝙊𝙆 𝘽𝙄𝙏𝘾𝙃 𝙒𝘼𝙉𝙏𝙎 𝘿𝙄𝘾𝙆

• 𝙎𝙈𝙐𝙏, 𝙎𝙈𝙐𝙏𝙏𝙔, 𝙎𝙈𝙐𝙏

• 𝙈𝙄𝙉𝙊𝙍𝙎 𝘿𝙉𝙄 𝙄 𝙒𝙄𝙇𝙇 𝘽𝙇𝙊𝘾𝙆 𝙔𝙊𝙐

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜: 𝙋𝙍𝙊𝙏𝙀𝘾𝙏𝙀𝘿 𝙎𝙀𝙓 (𝘞𝘳𝘢𝘱 𝘪𝘵 𝘶𝘱 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘴) 𝙁𝙄𝙉𝙂𝙍𝙄𝙉𝙂, 𝘿𝙄𝙍𝙏𝙔 𝙏𝘼𝙇𝙆, 𝙁𝙀𝙈𝘼𝙇𝙀 𝙍𝙀𝘾𝙄𝙀𝙑𝙄𝙉𝙂.

You were at the beach when you saw JJ Maybank with his Pogue friends. “Ugh, here comes them dirty Pogue’s.” Your best friend said. You had very dark sunglasses so no one could tell who you were really looking at. Your eyes falling onto none other than JJ Maybank himself. You’ve heard things about the boy. That he’s a criminal, that he’s bad, but one thing that did stick with some girls. Was that he’s good in bed and that his dick was long. As much as you wanted to give it a try. Your best friend would kill you if she ever knew how bad you wanted JJ Maybank out of all Boys. Out of Rafe Cameron. He just wasn’t the man you wanted. Rafe wanted you, always did, but you were never interested in the Cameron and all that he is. He’s not who you wanted to jump its bone.

Later that day, you were alone at your house, as your parents went out of town. It was only you and the housekeeper. “Here you go Ms. Valentina. Your chocolate covered strawberries.” Martha told you as she sets them down. You smiled at her and thanked her as she nods. The doorbell rings and you stand up. “I’ve got it, you’re good to go Martha.” You told her since she lives in the back house in your house, she nods and she walks away from you, to make sure it’s all cleaned up, and went to her home. You went over to the door and opened it. Your breath hitching as it was none other than JJ Maybank standing at your door with bags of groceries on each of his hands and you looked down at his hands to look at the groceries

“What are you doing here, Maybank.” You asked him as you looked at him up and down. He definitely is very attentive. “Weekly groceries from Hayward.” He said as you pursed your lips nodding your head. You open the door wider to let the Maybank inside of your home. “Follow me.” You told him as he followed after you. You had completely forgotten you were wearing a tanning bikini, without looking back you felt a blush come on to your cheeks as you knew his ocean blue eyes were stuck on your plumped ass cheeks, and you smirked and purposely started swaying your hips more. Both of you entered the kitchen and you told him where to put the bags, and you immediately did start putting them away, as you didn’t mind it at all.

JJ was about to walk away, but you stopped him. “Hey, wait up.” He turned around to look at you finished putting the strawberries away, looking over at him smiling. “You accept tips. Or whatever?” You asked him and he scoffed. “What? I can’t do a nice thing?” You asked him confused. “Well, you’re a Kook.” He told you making scoff as you rolled your eyes. “Just because I was born with money doesn’t mean! I’m like the rest.” You told JJ as it was his turn to look his eyes at you. “Every Kook is exactly alike.” He said as you pursed your lips nodding your head.

“I am nothing like them, just because I hang out with them, doesn’t mean I’m like them.” She told him.

“Aren’t you like Rafe’s girlfriend?” He asked you as you gagged. “Ew, no. He was a one time mistake.” You told him shivering at the fact that you let Rafe’s hands on your body. He didn’t even satisfy you good enough. “Everyone says otherwise.” He said to her and she laughed. “He’s obsessed it’s all.” She told him. “Wait, why am I even explaining myself to you.” You scoffed as you walked back outside the pool to grab your most favorite snack. Chocolate covered strawberries. “Why don’t you just date him?” He asked you making you scoff as you grabbed your plate, putting a strawberry in your mouth. “I would never stoop that low. He scars me.” She told the boy.

You walked back into your house and placed the plate on the counter of the kitchen. The suddenly you gasped, jumping as you felt hands on your hips. “What about me?” He whispered against your ear, making your eyes close as he lightly kissed your ear lob. You gulped as you turned around towards him as you pushed him away. “W-What about you?” You asked him as you went towards the fridge opened it to grab a bottle of water as you were feeling hot, not only from the humid, outer banks heat, but also the fact that you wanted to push JJ back on to one of the chairs in your kitchen and ride him until his soul leaves his body. You opened the bottle and took a gulp out of it. You turned your body towards him when you didn’t feel like you were blushing anymore.

“You really think I don’t see you looking at me?” He asked with a lower voice as he walked over to you. “Don’t know what y-you’re talking about.” You said to him. He was right in front of you, but you didn’t move at all. “Is it that, you a Kook bitch wants this Pogue dick?” He whispered so close to you. “Just, fuck me.” You told him and he didn’t hesitate to close the gap between both of you in a heated kiss. His hands went down, reaching your thighs as he picked you up, off the floor and placed you against the kitchen counter.

His fingers immediately working on taking off your bikini top, slipping it off your chest area as he pulled away, his blue eyes falling onto your hardened pink nipples, his fingers grazing it, making you softly gasp at the feeling of his cold finger tips grazing them. Your head leans back biting your lip as you feel him grab your nipple between his teeth as his hand goes on to your bikini bottom’s string and pulls them down he pulls away as he pulls them off and throws them to the side. Leaving you completely naked in front of him. You then reach for the hem of his shirt and pull it off his body tossing it to the side as well as his short trunks, leaving him in only his boxer shorts.

JJ then crashes his lips on you again as his hands spread open your legs more wide, pulling away he kissed down your neck, down your body as his arms wrapped around your legs and pulls you closer to the edge of the counter making you gasp, your legs on his shoulders, making you whimper and your body twitch as you left his mouth on your inner thighs as he lightly nips them. Then he kissed his way up your wet pussy, he placed a light kiss on top of your pussy lips. “JJ, please.” You moaned spreading your pussy lips open, his tongue did a long swipe of your juices.

“Fuck.” Your head fell back as the blonde boy started eating you out. “Ahh! JJ!” Your body shook as you left like you were in heaven. Your hand reached over, putting your fingers through his blonde locks as you pulled him in deeper as your hips moved along with the way his tongue was flickering your bundle of nerves. Your moaning was loud because of the fact that no one was home, and it felt so good you didn’t want it to end. JJ pulled away and stood up as he crashed his lips against yours making you moan as you taste yourself. His fingers were next to grazed ypur pussy lips, going up and down your wetness, making your body jerk at the sensation of his fingers.

He then pulled away and both of you looked into each other’s eyes. “You want this, you Kook slut?” He said making you moan as his finger grazed your hole. “Yes, I want it.” You told him, his finger slips inside of you. “Aah!” You moaned as he just looked at you and the faces you made as his fingers ended up inside of you tight walls. Him telling you how tight your pussy felt, and how he couldn’t wait until his cock was inside of you. His fingers curling inside of you in ways you’ve never experienced in your life, the way your body shook as you felt your first orgasm approach you faster then you thought, the way he would look into your eyes as you finally let out the biggest most sweetest moans he’s ever heard as your body shook in pure pleasure as your pussy walls flutter against his fingers. “Fuck! Aah!!” You tried gripping something but you couldn’t find anything to grip.

So your nails scratched the marble surface as you moaned his name. Finally you slumped, breathing heavily, but you weren’t done. Your hand reached over to JJ and pulled down his boxer shorts, your eyes widen at how long he actually was. They weren’t lying about it. “Fuck me, please.” You told him but he paused. “I don’t have a, uh.” He cleared his throat as you sigh. “I’m on the pill.”you told him and he looked at you in question. “I’m on a pill dude, now hurry.” You told him and he didn’t waist anymore time on it.

He lined himself up on your entrance and pushed inside making you let out a moan as he stretched you out. JJ groaning as he filled up your tight pussy. His hands spreading your legs more open, into the air as he bottomed out. Leaning back on your hands you both looked into each other as he pulled out, the tip of his dick being the only thing inside of you, he went and slammed into you making your body jerk and you gasp so loud as he didn’t waist anymore time and started slamming into you in a fast pace, not giving you time to adjust onto his size but you didn’t care. “Fuck, you’re so tight.” JJ gritted his teeth hard.

He watched how your chest bounce along with his thrust. “Harder!” Your body shook as he went to grip your hips hard as his thrust got even faster and hard. “Fuck! Shit!” You reached down to rub on your clit to make your orgasm come faster. “Let it go, baby.” JJ groaned as he felt himself get closer to his climax as well. You let out a gasp, throwing your head back as your walls clenched on JJ as your legs shook, JJ lets out a grunt as he pulled up quickly, releasing onto your stomach. Shots flying into your chest as he moaned. Slowly down JJ backed into the island and he watched as you grabbed his release with your finger and looked at him as you licked your fingers.

Breathing heavily JJ groaned as you did that. “You want to get me hard again?” He asked you as you got off the counter, stumbling a little bit as your legs felt wobbly. “I wouldn’t mind a second round.” She said.

She walked away, grabbing her swimsuit looking over her shoulder at the blonde.

“You down with another round in the shower?” She asked him. JJ immediately nods and went after her as she started to run up the stairs giggling as he laughed following after the girl going into her room.

Spending the rest of the day inside her room with the doors locked and fucking the day away.

[hivemuthur]

The Game of Teaching Body - Ch. 11.

viktorxfemale!reader explicit! (we back at it)

AU university, AU modern era, slow burn, frenemies to lovers, teasing, pinning, banter, eventual romance and therefore smut, Viktor is simultaneously a menace and needs a hug, TA Viktor

Ch.1. | Ch.2. | Ch.3. | Ch.4. | Ch.5. | Ch.6. | Ch.7. | Ch.8. | Ch.9. | Ch.10. | Ch.12.

word count: 6,3K

tag: #the game of teaching body

summary: My humble offering after the stress of previous chapters. I promise there is fluff.

Cross-posted on AO3 + POV3rd Person Version

—

Christmas at home unfolded in its usual rhythm, but this time, it felt different. Despite your own scepticism, you actually attempted the moon salutations your dad had badgered you about. Later, you unapologetically devoured an inhuman amount of pierogi, earning both admiration and disapproval from your relatives. Yet, for the first time in years, you found yourself genuinely enjoying the festivities. Somehow, the snow fight with Viktor, and everything else that came with it, had lightened something inside you. The weight you hadn’t realised you’d been carrying felt less oppressive, and the chaos of your family became something you could actually laugh about.

For Viktor, Christmas with Jayce and his family was quieter than expected but in a way that felt oddly relaxing. Jayce, ever the enthusiast, made a commendable attempt at cooking a festive dinner, and despite Viktor’s initial doubts, it wasn’t a complete disaster. They spent the evening exchanging stories, the crackle of the fireplace filling the silences, and for the first time in a long time, Viktor didn’t feel like an outsider looking in on a tradition.

You returned to university on a train with Hale, the two of you chatting about everything and nothing. Hale, perceptive as ever, avoided probing you about Sheffield or Viktor, instead letting you adjust to the shift in pace on your own. Your laughter filled the carriage as you shared stories about your holidays, the comfort of familiarity easing the transition back to reality.

And yet, both you and Viktor found your thoughts drifting back to the snow—the cold biting your skin, the warmth of your laughter, your anger, and your resolution. You had kept it to yourselves, not out of secrecy, but out of reverence for how rare it felt. Now, as you both prepared to return to university, a mix of excitement and nervousness settled in your chest. Whatever had happened in Sheffield, whatever had moved, would soon be tested by the reality of your everyday lives. Neither of you knew what would come next, but Viktor’s fear had smoothed around the edges, and your hesitation had warmed up to hope.

When you all met by the entrance, it was hard not to skip slightly. Jayce was unloading his and Viktor’s bags from the trunk, while Viktor leaned against the car, waving his hands in the air, clearly saying something important—or groundbreaking.

“I’m thrilled to see you again, gentlemen,” Hale smirked, taking in the uneven division of labour. “I have to admit, this is exactly how I pictured your setup,” he wagged his eyebrows at Jayce, who only shrugged, playfully unbothered.

You walked up to Viktor, giving him a small, casual wave. He responded with a quiet “hi,” and before you could ask anything, he took a step, closing the distance between you. He had rehearsed the moment of your next meeting in his head, and this wasn’t how it was supposed to go, but his body acted entirely outside his brain’s jurisdiction.

“What are you—” you started, but your question was cut off when he leaned in and kissed you. Your body froze in surprise—hands hovering over his shoulders, tentative—before you relaxed into it, placing your palms on his arms.

The kiss was enough to make Jayce and Hale freeze, eyes wide and jaws dropped, as if they had just witnessed something completely impossible. When Viktor pulled back, he looked at you for a moment, his breath shallow. “I’m sorry I haven’t texted, I—”

Your lips quirked into a smile. “My family hunts down anyone that uses a phone over Christmas with torches and pitchforks,” you teased, your tone light, though it still carried a slight tremble of nervousness.

Hale burst your bubble with a loud clearing of his throat, his eyes rolling knowingly. He propped his hand on his hip, his expression a mix of disbelief and amusement, and then turned toward Jayce, holding out his other hand. “Alright, pay up, unbeliever.”

Jayce, still a little stunned, dug into his wallet without saying a word, pulling out a ten-pound note and handing it to Hale. “You are a fucking witch, Hale.”

“I’m sorry, did you take bets on my private life?” you scoffed, slightly bemused in mock offence, your arms now circled around Viktor’s waist.

“We didn’t bet against you if that’s what’s worrying you. Just the time frames,” Hale said, waving his hand vaguely between you and Viktor. “Jayce wouldn’t accept that this”—he gestured loosely—“will resolve itself before mid-terms.” He shrugged, fanning himself playfully with his illegally acquired tenner.

“I hope now you know that my powers have no limit, and that I am always right,” he announced triumphantly in Jayce’s direction.

“I don’t even want to know what you guys talked about when we weren’t around,” you sighed, resigned to the thought of your little drama becoming fodder for your friends’ gossip routine. It felt completely alien to be wrapped around Viktor in public, though not unwelcome—he had solved your next equation for you: how you were going to tell the group that the volatile times were over.

Jayce seemed happy enough about losing the bet; he gave Viktor a pat on the shoulder and ran off to see Mel. Hale strolled off toward his dorm building, leaving you and Viktor to grab your bags and march together into whatever was coming next. You exchanged awkward small talk about your holiday experiences as you walked toward the lift, your hands loosely tangled together.

You entered the elevator with two other girls, who eyed you suspiciously. Viktor pressed the button for his floor with his cane, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible, completely ignoring your questioning gaze.

“Excuse me, and what about my floor?” you asked, your eyebrows raised in mock offence as you shifted your bag higher on your shoulder.

“We are not going to your floor,” Viktor replied calmly, not even sparing you a glance as the elevator began its ascent. His arm was wrapped around your shoulders, letting part of his weight rest on you.

“Oh, we’re not, are we?” you challenged, turning to face him fully. “And where exactly are you dragging me, Mr. Master Planner?”

“Obviously, up to my room,” he said, his tone so unbothered it almost made you laugh.

You tilted your head, narrowing your eyes at him. “And what would I possibly want to do in your room?”

Viktor’s lips twitched into a sly smile as he glanced sideways at you, his voice low and laced with amusement. “It’s about what I want to do. But if you have to ask so many questions...” He leaned in closer, his breath brushing your ear, and you could feel the smug grin blooming on his lips. “I want to eat you out.”

The two girls in the elevator exchanged a glance, one of them scoffing in incredulity, while you whisper-shouted at him in shock, “Viktor! There are people here!”

“You insisted. Now you know,” he replied, unfazed, his cane tapping lightly against the floor as the elevator continued upward.

The moment the door to Viktor’s room shut behind you, the tension you’d carried up the lift broke like a dam. You spun on your heel, shoving Viktor lightly against the door, your lips finding his in a hungry kiss. Your hands tangled in his hair, mussing the strands with reckless abandon. Viktor let out a soft noise of surprise, barely managing to steady himself with his cane before surrendering to your fervour.

Your fingers made quick work of his belt; the metallic clink startlingly loud in the otherwise quiet room. You barely pulled back from the kiss, your breath hot against his lips as you whispered, “God, you’re hot.”

Viktor’s ears burned red, his breath hitching as he stared at you, stunned and flustered. “Where did that come from?” he asked, his voice uneven, the faintest hint of a nervous laugh escaping him.

You smirked, tilting your head as you undid the last of his belt and tugged it loose. “Have you seen the mirror like… ever? You are always hot,” you breathed against his neck, unceremoniously shoving your hand down his pants, making him release a startled moan. “But now you are the hottest,” you said eagerly, wrapping your fingers around his cock.

Viktor jumped at your touch, his body instinctively trying to wiggle out of your grasp as he rasped in surprise, “I thought I made myself clear in the lift, so what is this you’re trying to—ah!” He broke off, his breath hitching as your fingers traced a particularly sensitive spot. His protest melted into a half-laugh, half-groan before he finished, “…do?”

“Maybe I want to eat you out first?” you retorted playfully in between kisses, as you walked him carefully toward the bed, plucking his cane from his hand and sitting him on the mattress. And he let you. He let your hands guide his torso to splay flat and your palms to travel down his chest and thighs, your skin hot with yearning, as you positioned yourself between his legs. He propped himself up to run his hands up your thighs, only to discover it was stockings hiding beneath your skirt.

“Is that for me?” It was meant as a tease but came out too admiring to provoke anything else than a smile on your face.

“Yes,” you said bluntly, and seeing some other remark already dancing on the tip of his tongue, you leaned in and took a long, deep whiff of his cock through the underwear. Viktor’s head fell back onto the pillow as he released a loud groan, his body curling up in heat. His words caught in his throat, and all he could manage was a shaky laugh. “This… isn’t fair play.”

“Oh no, Viktor, you’d better call the police,” you mocked, sliding his pants and boxers down to take him in fully, for the first time, in broad daylight. You paused, your eyes fixed on him, flustered and dishevelled by the doings of your own hands, and whispered in awe, “You are so fucking hot.” A smile bloomed on your face as you noticed the blush rapidly creeping up his chest.

Viktor took a couple of long breaths to steady himself, your warm hands resting in the creases of his thighs making him twitch slightly. “I might have come up with a compromise,” he managed to say, his words escaping in a desperate exhale.

Seeing your eyebrows shoot up in question, he motioned for you to come closer. Wordlessly, he guided your hands to rest on his hips and positioned your hips over his chest to straddle him. Your fingers tensed up, digging into his hipbones, so he soothed you sliding his palms flat over your ass cheeks and whispered into your core, “Trust me.”

You hesitated, waiting for him to make the next move. When you felt his face hovering over your underwear, you jumped slightly at the heat of his breath. “It seems to me that you come unprepared… though not unready.” He smirked, seeing the moisture that had already pooled itself through your knickers. “How attached are you to those?” he asked quietly, gliding his hands underneath the material.

“Not very attached, why?” Your tone was light, though trembling at the edges. Your eyes were transfixed on his cock already weeping at the tip, but Viktor didn’t see. All he saw was what was in front of him, when he ripped the material in one smooth motion and placed an outrageously loud, moany kiss on your core, sending a jolt up your spine. “Well, that’s just beautiful, isn’t it.”

He peppered slow smooches all over you and you jumped at each and every one. This was perfect—a sudden surge of affection tore through him, as he felt a strange sense of belonging there, smothered by your thighs. He scratched his nails on the meat of your ass and pushed his nose inside you, taking a long whiff. It went through your mind how incredibly gross and hot it was simultaneously, when your own whimper broke your focus—Viktor licked your clit with a hard tongue, while teasing your entrance with the tip of his nose. A low chuckle echoed through you, when he felt your inside clench on nothing.

You had to recollect herself quickly, though Viktor’s tongue made it so, so difficult. You steadied the base of his cock in your hand and kissed the tip sweetly, drawing a muffled moan from his lips. His face snapped an inch away, only for him to brush his thumb against your clit playfully, causing your rhythm to stutter. You huffed, as if to scold him, but your mouth, already wrapped around his cock, never left him, and it made him giggle.

Seeing your resolve wouldn’t faulter, Viktor hooked his arms around your thighs and buried his face greedily in your core. The groan you let out caused his belly to knot tightly and send a vibration all the way up to his mouth, which he delivered back as a helpless mewl against your lips.

None of you would give in, completely invested in drawing hums and growls from each other, just to send one another over the edge. Until Viktor used his last resort—he pushed two fingers inside you to join his tongue in this sweet torture and you fell for the first time that day. You snapped your mouth away from him, your spine pulled up like that of a puppet to grind your hips down on Viktor’s face, as your wordlessly came into it, covering his mouth, nose, and cheeks with your sleek.

It was a completely new kind of intimacy for you. The gentle struggle for control between you mirrored the way you had pushed and pulled at each other emotionally, leaving you both nervous and excited all at once. The sound of your own heavy breathing filled the silence, and you found herself torn between wanting to hug him, suck him off into oblivion, or scream at him—all these feelings mingling together, none overpowering the others.

“Good girl,” he let out a breathy laugh, slapping your ass cheek playfully. You groaned at your defeat, but having your full focus back, you eagerly resumed the work on the assignment. Having Viktor trapped underneath you, you cupped his balls in one hand and let your throat relax over his length.

You considered teasing him, but the thought vanished the moment your skin met his again. The helpless twitch in your mouth made you release a muffled yearning moan, and you realised that the feeling of pleasure spreading through your bodies was mutual.

Your mouth was hot on him, and the feeling of Viktor’s body writhe underneath yours, now nestled comfortably in his edges, made your chest fill with warmth. You worked him slowly, thoroughly, taking in all the small sounds his lips would give you. His hips bucked once in a while and when he couldn’t hold himself back much longer, he bit on your ass cheek, sending your chuckle straight into his burning core.

“Ah, I can’t—,” Viktor tried to plea, but you wouldn’t release him. You held his hips down with your weight and allowed him to spill himself into your mouth, the taste of him salty and heavy on your tongue as you pushed it down your throat, keeping it to yourself. His cock finally broke free with a quiet ‘pop’ sound, making him release a small hiss.

Viktor lay still, his chest rising and falling with steady breaths, your weight pressing down on him in a way that was both grounding and liberating. He felt no pain, no discomfort—only the warm afterglow of bliss, a soothing wave that enveloped him as you rested on top of him, your body soft and pliant against his. For a moment, time seemed to stretch, leaving only the two of you, intertwined like figures on a set of poker cards, your softness pouring itself between his sharp edges. The silence between you felt full, almost sacred, as Viktor's mind slowly unfurled, each thought calmly finding its place in the serenity of the moment. In this stillness, there was no rush, no urgency—just the quiet, powerful understanding of everything you had shared and the comfort of knowing it wasn’t over yet.

“Hey, come up here,” he took a deep breath, his fingers tracing a line up your spine. You obliged wordlessly, settling yourself in the crook of his neck, when he pulled you into a slow, grateful kiss. He could feel the taste of himself on your mouth, which made him deepen the kiss and pull you closer.

“I guess this is not on your mind now, but I just want to let you know that I’m healthy,” he said quietly, his expression thoughtful.

You blinked twice, your mind slowly coming back into your body. Fuck, right. “Jesus, I didn’t even think—”

“That’s alright. If you need some sex ed, I can be of service,” he smirked, right into your face. “Now would be the time you tell me about yourself.”

“Hm, I don’t know, I had this weird rash for days, can you take a look?” you started pulling your shirt up in a joke and Viktor whined, “Get off me, you vile woman!”

You both laughed, the sound light and easy, before he pulled you back in, his lips finding yours again in a deeper, more lingering kiss. “You are such a weirdo,” he said, affection dripping from his voice. He nuzzled his face into yours and let out a content sigh.

“I’m healthy too,” you smiled, feeling the familiar warmth between you two. It was strange how easy it felt to talk to him about something that could be so awkward with anyone else. It felt natural, in a way that wasn’t foreshadowed by the route you had to take to get there.

“I guess this would also be a good time to tell you I’m on the pill?” you said, your voice playful, your fingers tracing circles on his chest.

Viktor paused, his expression shifting as he gently cupped your face, making you meet his eyes. His gaze was serious, his tone low but steady. “That’s your decision,” he said, his thumb brushing over your cheek, “but just know that other methods work for me too, if that’s what you’d prefer.”

You smiled at him, the warmth in his voice making your heart flutter. Leaning forward, you pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, your lips lingering just for a moment longer than necessary.

You settled into a silent lull, tangled with each other. Viktor didn’t break the stillness for a moment, his thoughts weighing on him, before he finally spoke, his voice quieter than before.

“So... would you go on a date with me?” he asked, a slight nervousness creeping into the edges of his words.

Your lips curved into a soft, genuine smile, your eyes bright as you responded, “I thought we already were.”

He chuckled, the sound a little more relieved than he expected. “Not quite what I meant,” he said, his fingers lightly tracing the line of your jaw. “But yes, this is me asking... would you?”

You laughed softly, teasing him. “Well, I guess since you asked so nicely… yes.”

Viktor’s smile softened as he leaned in to kiss you again, the simple act of asking suddenly feeling like one of the most important things he had done in a long time.

***

The simple act of getting dressed wasn’t so simple, though. You paced up and down your room, your wardrobe splayed out—well, everywhere—as you eyed every single item of clothing, only to toss it aside with a grunt.

“Where is he taking you?” Sue asked, knowing she had to tread carefully. When she suggested that jeans and a t-shirt would fit anywhere, you responded with a huff and a pair of rolled-up socks thrown in her direction.

“I. Have. No. Idea,” you finally slumped down on the bed, surrounded by the pile of clothes. “Sue, I’m losing my mind. I think I should break up with him.”

“Jesus, I don’t know which one of you is worse,” your friend chuckled, proceeding to ruffle through her own wardrobe. She pulled out a simple blue dress with spaghetti straps. “There—you could wear this for a restaurant, a museum, or even a club. Maybe a pub too, but you might turn a couple of heads in it,” she said, placing the dress at your feet.

You peeked through your fingers, then paused. This... might work. “Do I get your boobs with it, though?” You shot Sue a glance, measuring the fabric against your chest.

“Will you stop being such a twat? I already feel like I’m overstepping. Hale should be your fairy godmother here,” Sue crossed her arms over her chest. “This is my lucky dress, and you will treat yourself with respect when you wear it, young lady!”

“Uh, how many times did you get lucky in it?” you said, feigning disgust as you held the dress in front of yourself by the straps dangling from your fingers.

“It’s freshly washed,” Sue shot you a sweet smile, and you only rolled your eyes. You put the dress on and, surprisingly, it fit. It actually fit so well that you worried it might be an overkill. A knock on the door pulled you out of the debate about whether you should go with jeans and a t-shirt instead.

“Are you… oh,” Viktor’s voice caught in his throat, and you immediately abandoned the jeans-and-t-shirt idea. He cleared his throat and repeated, “Are you ready?”

“Yes.” You eyed him up and down—he looked… nice. Nicer than usual, as much as that was possible. He was wearing a long coat, dark brown woollen pants, and a white shirt that peeked out from under his red pullover. A matching red scarf hung loosely from his neck, and you suddenly remembered it was winter, so you had to wear a coat as well.

“Or rather, almost ready,” you quipped, grabbing your coat and a small purse.

“And why haven’t I seen this dress before?” Viktor leaned in to give you a peck on the cheek, his hand sliding down your waist.

“It’s Sue’s lucky dress, apparently, so whatever luck happens tonight, we have Sue to thank.” You tried to sound composed, but your nerves got the better of you, and it came out breathy.

“No shagging in my dress, please,” Sue said bluntly, trying to sort out the mess you were leaving behind. “And have fun, you two.”

Viktor took your hand as you walked out together—a completely simple and innocent, loving gesture that made your heart race with panic. Were your hands sweaty? You were the one who had forgotten gloves this time. You struggled to think of anything to say that might sound natural and suddenly felt trapped in your own awkwardness. Your nerves bubbled up, and you squeezed his hand lightly, trying to distract yourself.

“So,” you began casually, your voice a little too high-pitched, “where exactly are you taking me?”

Viktor gave you a sideways glance but didn’t answer immediately. He had the same tight, focused expression he always wore when he was working. You raised an eyebrow. He was definitely keeping something from you.

“Come on,” you prodded, “You can’t just say ‘you’ll see’ and expect me not to get curious.”

“I think you’ll like it,” Viktor replied, his voice even, but you could sense the hesitation beneath it. He had no idea if you would like it, because when he picked the place, it struck him so suddenly that he didn’t have the faintest idea about what you might’ve liked in the first place. So, he picked the most generic, fancy place he had heard of, and right now it made his skin crawl that he'd heard of it from Heimerdinger.

You narrowed your eyes, trying to read him, but he kept his usual unreadable composure. After a long pause, you gave up, deciding to let the mystery unfold. Though you had no idea what you were about to walk into, it was strangely... exciting.

The restaurant was nothing like you had expected. You blinked in surprise as you entered a lavish, high-end dining room with dim lighting, white linen tablecloths, and waiters gliding silently between tables. It felt stiff—formality hanging in the air like the scent of all things expensive: leather, wine, and heavy perfume. You felt suddenly out of place in your casual dress, surrounded by the perfectly groomed people around you.

“Viktor…” you murmured, looking at him. “This is... this is fancy. Are you sure this is the place?”

Viktor smiled nervously, almost as if he was trying to reassure himself as much as you. “No, I haven’t been here before, but I’ve heard it’s really good.”

You gave him a half-smile, your nerves beginning to spike. You hadn’t expected this. He was acting like he had no idea what he was doing, but there was a determination in his eyes that made you wonder if he really was as out of his element as he seemed.

As you were led to your table, the waiter noticed Viktor’s cane and immediately straightened up, his eyes scanning the space. “Would you prefer a more comfortable seat, sir?” he asked politely. “Something with more support?”

Viktor’s hand twitched on his cane, and you quickly jumped in. “No, this is fine, thank you.” Oh God, why couldn’t you just shut up?

When you sat down, you glanced at the menu, but the silence stretched out between you as you searched for words. You glanced at Viktor, who was completely absorbed in the card, and you could swear there was a drop of sweat forming on his temple. You picked up the menu, flipping through it but barely taking in anything. Your eyes landed on the prices, which made your throat tighten.

After a beat, you asked, trying to hide the edge of concern in your voice, “Are you sure about this place? The prices—uh, it’s a little... well, it’s a lot.”

Viktor didn’t respond right away. Instead, he looked at you with an unreadable expression, and the silence settled in again. Finally, he asked, his voice quiet but sharp, “Why are you acting so weird?”

You blinked, feeling a rush of heat rise to your face. You could barely meet his eyes, feeling like you were under a microscope. “Me? Why are you acting so weird? You barely said a word tonight,” you shot back, your voice rising slightly in defence. “Is this what you think I like?”

“I… guess I’m… nervous?” Viktor’s voice faltered, sounding more like he had just begun searching for an answer. “Also… I actually might not have the faintest idea what you would like, and well…” His hand gestured vaguely, as if trying to dismiss the discomfort between you.

You blinked, your brows furrowing. “So you decided to take me to a place that makes me incredibly uncomfortable, instead of asking me?” Your voice came out sharper than you meant, more accusatory than you intended, but you couldn’t hold it back. “Why... why did you ask me out in the first place?”

Viktor’s face twisted in frustration, his lips curling into a tight line. “Because that’s what normal people do?” he retorted, his whisper barely containing the tension bubbling in his chest. “You will forgive me, but have I breached some kind of rule that you have made up in your head?”

Your chest tightened, but you couldn’t decide whether you were surprised or offended. You almost wanted to throw your hands up, but instead, you exhaled sharply, trying to rein in your growing frustration. “No, oh God, it’s not about that. Did you ask me on a date because you wanted to spend time with me, or because you felt like you had to?”

Viktor's expression faltered, his jaw clenching as if he were searching for the right words. His voice dropped even lower, still sharp but full of confusion and vulnerability.

“Jesus, please don’t do this,” he muttered, his eyes flickering with a mix of guilt and exasperation. “I asked you because I’ve never asked anyone before, and it felt… right. No matter how wrong it feels now,” he finished with a frustrated whisper-shout.

You blinked, the sudden honesty hitting you like a slap to the face. “Wait. You’ve never been on a date before?” You couldn’t hide the shock in your voice, your wide eyes searching his face for any hint of a joke. “Are you serious?”

“I didn’t say that,” Viktor shot back quickly, his voice almost defensive. “I have been asked out. But I have never asked anyone.” He looked down, his gaze turning away from you as though the words stung more than he’d let on, like admitting it was something of a personal defeat.

Your heart softened for a moment, but you quickly masked it with your usual teasing demeanour.

“I, um…” You hesitated, the weight of the awkward silence pressing down on you. You could see the evening unfolding in your mind’s eye: a tiny, overpriced meal, polite conversation, and then a quick parting with a stiff “goodnight.” That wasn’t what you wanted, but you weren’t sure how to get the two of you out of this pit you’d dug. “Where… would you take me if…”

Viktor gave you a sideways glance, his brow furrowing as he considered your words. “If I actually knew something about you?” His voice softened with a hint of uncertainty. “I don’t know. How about you tell me?”

You bit your lip for a moment, staring down at your menu, trying to figure out how to salvage this. “I… like chips?” you offered, the words feeling ridiculous as soon as they left your mouth.

Viktor blinked, clearly caught off guard, before a small laugh bubbled up from his chest. The sound was warm and genuine, cutting through the tension between you. You couldn’t help but laugh too, the absurdity of it all breaking the ice.

“Chips?” Viktor chuckled, his eyes crinkling with amusement. “You’re full of surprises.”

“Hey, don’t judge,” you shot back, still grinning. “It’s the simple things. Who doesn’t like chips?”

Viktor’s smile softened as the awkwardness between you began to melt away. He leaned back slightly in his chair, looking at you with a glimmer of something less guarded in his eyes. First, he spoke your name with exagerrated sincerity. Then, he took a deep breath, his voice a little more serious now, but still light. “Would you like to get a beer and fish & chips with me?”

Your heart skipped a beat. It was simple. It was perfect. You let out a soft, relieved laugh. “I thought you’d never ask,” you said, your voice lighter, warmer.

Viktor’s smile deepened, the weight of the evening’s tension finally starting to ease. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he said, leaning forward just enough to meet your eyes. “Should we run then? I’m low-key scared of that waiter,” he whispered loudly into your ear, leaning over the table.

You nodded eagerly and stood up from your seat. “Do you need some assistance in walking, sir?”

Viktor snorted at your weak attempt to mock the waiter’s accent, stood up, and pulled you under his shoulder, leaning his weight on you. “Yes, I’m afraid you will have to carry me to our next destination.”

*

“Hmm, that’s it. I’m planning our dates from now on,” you sighed, clearly pleased with yourself and the dinner you were eating out of the newspaper.

“Is that so? Bossing me around already?” Viktor hooked his arm around your shoulder. The two of you sat on the bench next to the fish and chips shop, and it was unbearably cold. You were wearing only a silly dress and a coat with no scarf or gloves because you had no idea what to wear and had left in a hurry. And he knew it.

“Are you complaining?” you asked, your words muffled as you were still chewing. You shot him a look, as if challenging him, though it would have been perfectly reasonable to complain—he had fallen only once, and only because he was trying not to. As usual, the moment led him to a more significant answer to a more significant question.

“No,” Viktor deadpanned. No, he wasn’t.

“That’s it? No?” You nuzzled closer into his arm, still eating. The vinegar made your nose burn—your other source of warmth, aside from Viktor.

“Eh, I am slowly accepting my fate,” he shrugged, completely unfazed. “It’s not going to be normal, is it?” It was more of a statement than a question, mused into the cold air. It made him feel warmer, though he had no idea what normal even was.

“No. Not in my nature. Also—who are you to demand normal?” You snorted, thinking of how weird the last three months had been, how weird your parents were, and wondering if it wasn’t just you who was not normal, but actually weird, in a way.

“I’m not demanding. As I said—I am slowly accepting my fate.” And it was the truth. Slowly, his fate was facing acceptance. Or rather, rapidly, as it had already been accepted and settled in his head: no other way from that point forward was possible for him.

“It must be terrible, to carry such a burden.” You let out a long sigh, intending to mock him but lacking any real bite in the end. You tried to eat your last chip but faltered and dropped it idly back into the newspaper.

“You have no idea.” You haven’t got the faintest fucking idea.

***

“Come on, last chapter,” Viktor nudged your elbow. Your head was resting limply against his desk, your hands hanging at your sides.

“I am never asking you again,” you groaned. It was so late, the letters had stopped making sense a long time ago. “I miss Sue.” It was meant as a joke, but you almost wept at the memory of you and Sue saying, “fuck it” and going to bed when you studied together.

“Don’t be such a baby. People would kill to have me as a study buddy.” Viktor leaned in and placed his hand on your neck. It was warm and made you even sleepier.

“I hope they kill me,” you said, lifting yourself up and slumping your hands onto his shoulders to look him dead in the eye. It was no joke.

“Please, I’ll feed you anything you want after that.”

You blinked at him absentmindedly. “Are you expecting me to say something very specific now?” Your eyebrow shot up, as if the dots had magically connected themselves. You weren’t going to say it, though—your mouth was dry, and your eyes were tearing up from exhaustion.

“I wasn’t. Now I am.” Viktor shrugged, his lips curling into a smile as he watched you like this. “Stop this; distraction won’t save you.” As if you could pull anything like that off right now.

“Viktor, how about begging? I am so. Tired. I beg you; I need to splay myself flat or I will die,” you whined theatrically, dropping to your knees before him, your hands gripping his thighs.

“You should switch departments,” he chuckled at your desperation. It was much cuter than Jayce throwing books at him in the exact same setup. “But, eh, I guess it’s fine. What time is the exam?”

Which was why he faltered. You had no idea how many things you could’ve asked.

“11. Yes—” You raised your head and looked up at him. He was already opening his mouth to say that you should revise in the morning, though his smile was saying something else.

“I will revise in the morning.” You smiled softly, almost whispering. I love you for this.

“It’s settled then. Will you stay?” He held out his hands to help you up.

“Viktor, I can barely move. I’m no use here now.” You took his hands, though you tried to get up using as much of your own strength as possible.

“To sleep, you degenerate,” he scoffed, still smiling. “To splay yourself flat and sleep, instead of, I don’t know... dying.” Stay, stay, stay.

“Yes.” You nodded many times to emphasize how much you were staying. I also love you for this. You could cry if you weren’t so tired. You almost did when he gave you a spare toothbrush, a towel, his boxer shorts, and his green jumper to sleep in. You smelled entirely of Viktor now, and you decided that any other smell stunk.

You sank into the mattress, tangling yourself around him like a snake—your thigh between his legs, his bad leg propped on your hip. Your arms wrapped around his waist, fists clutching his sleeping T-shirt with I ♥ Jayce Tallis written on it, your face pressed against his neck, as if your own smell of Viktor wasn’t enough smell of Viktor.

His hand rested in the small of your back, the other splayed under your head. He spoke your name softly.

Silence. Only breathing. He fumbled for his phone on the bedside table to set the alarm. 7 AM—you were going to have his head for this.

He whispered your name again, this time to himself. I am rapidly falling in love with you. You had stayed the night.

[starkeyssweetheart]

chapter one: souvenir ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

summary: on the anniversary of you leaving town, you return for your parents vow renewal, only to be met with the reason you left.

warnings: seeing your ex after one year no contact, cheating accusations, miscommunication, implicit mention of drugs / rehab, a lot of angst

(series masterlist)

the grave reality of your situation doesn’t settle in until your walking on the makeshift aisle, a path of rose petals on the sand of your favourite beach. the music swells as you walk to the beat of the wedding march, clutching your bouquet of peonies with more force than necessary.

your eyes remain frontward, never deviating off course and to the standing audience of familiar faces you’d ran away from a year ago. you still feel his eyes on you.

an invisible pull, forcibly dragging you back to him. don’t look, don’t look, you repeat the mantra in your head, reminding yourself of the danger of getting your heart broken again. instead your mind wonders. is this a sign from the universe? maybe it means something? or maybe it doesn’t and you just want it to because you miss him like you miss air when you hold your breath.

you don’t listen to your parents’ vow renewals, knowing you’d be mentally rolling your eyes at the fake display of love that you knew all too well wasn’t true. in reality, your father was never home and your mother was having an affair.

besides, you didn’t want to be within a ten foot radius of a couple, let alone one declaring their undying love for one another.

deep breaths, you remind yourself, and the next think you know, you’re sitting at the beach bar of the country club with an ocean view, sipping at a diet coke with a melancholy expression. you’d spent the last few hours making the rounds, of course, answering the obnoxious questions about where you’d been the past year. it wasn’t like you could spill all the gruesome details.

and then you feel it. even though nothing is physically touching you at all. you feel it in your soul. he leans against the bar and it takes every ounce of strength in your body to not look at him. working your hardest to steady your breathing without being too obvious, you see his smirk in the corner of your eye.

“hey, sweetheart,” he says, voice softer than you expected. your heart drops, or whatever bloody part of it he left behind when he ripped it out — his twisted version of souvenir. “‘s good to see you.”

his causal demeanour leaves you in shock and your head darts towards him. it hits you all at once. he looks so different, but exactly the same. his brown hair, resembling a golden halo in the evening sunset, cropped now. older now, but healthier. his eyes are no longer dark, his expression no longer troubles. clean shaven. his signet ring (the one you’d previously been wearing every day without fail) on his thumb.

you fight the old urge to stumble into his arms; he’d catch you without a second thought. you stare at his smirking lips before you meet his eyes. a million memories rush through your head and you worry you won’t make anymore again. just when you thought your heart couldn’t break anymore.

with your doe eyes staring up at him, he doesn’t know if he can hold back. he’d never missed a person like this before. he never had to until you left him.

“you’re avoiding me,” he states causally, taking your coke and gulping it down with his lips quirking up into an amused smirk at your glare. he knows your anger is short-lived for something small like this. however, your unresolved anger over the breakup had been festering for a year.

“i am,” you say quietly, unable to turn away from his face. he looks healthier than how you left him; you can’t help but remember the red rims under his dilated eyes when you dumped him.

you stick your nose in the air, remember the pep talk kiara gave you over the phone before returning to obx. she’d laughed when you told her you wouldn’t love him anymore; “just don’t let him see it,” she had responded.

he smirks, thoroughly amused by your defiance. your long lashes flutter against your cheeks as you shut them, taking another deep breath. “what do you want from me, rafe?” you ask, cutting to the chase, unable to keep the hurt from showing on your face and imagining kie scolding you for it.

your eyes hold, his eyes softening unimaginably, the way they only did for you. his jaw clenches and unclenches before he finally speaks gruffly. “we need to talk. you can’t keep running from this. from me.”

he was right; it was impossible to keep away. although you expected this conversation to happen eventually, you couldn’t help but let out a huff of air. “why can’t I?”

his lips tug up and you raise an eyebrow at his amusement. “you can’t run, bambi,” he teases, using the nickname sarah used to call you for your clumsiness. ever since you were a child, your uniquely long limbs meant you fell down a lot. luckily, you trained yourself to walk straight even in heels, saving yourself from a lot of embarrassment.

you glare at him, the look unusual on your typically kind features. he smirks and says “hah” and you can’t help but miss him. the year apart was supposed to have healed you, made you independent, but instead you feel emptier than ever. after all, he’d been a part of your life for the past fifteen years.

“what’s there to talk about, rafe?” you ask, standing now. you don’t miss how his blue eyes flicker over you figure, scrutinising you lilac dress that clings to your body like second skin. he meets your eyes again, his hand tapping the bar repeatedly. “you cheated on me,” you remind him, your own words cutting you deeply, a sharp reminder of your grief.

his face twists with an emotion you can no longer distinguish. anger? disappointment? remorse? discomfort? maybe none of them. you can’t help but tense, realising how disconnected you are now. the clench of his fists lets you settle on anger.

rafe moves closer, towering over you as he leans down to meet your doe eyed gaze. “i swear to you, princess. i did not fucking cheat on you.” his fists are clenched by his sides when you shake your head in disbelief, no longer wanting to look at him.

“stop lying to me!” you say, voice raising an octave with hurt. it was very rare that you were anything but graceful and collected in public and you quickly regain your composure. your eyes flicker to your surroundings, wondering if anyone was watching. the last thing you wanted was to be caught off guard at an event your family was hosting. your only met with the concerned gaze of sarah from the other side of the beach bar.

you shake your head again, not wanting to hear more of his lies. “please, i’m begging you, baby. just let me explain this. don’t ruin us over a misunderstanding.” his pinky finger grazes yours and you flinch at the spark, pulling your hand away before he could make contact.

“there is no us,” you tell him coldly, wrapping your arms around yourself for comfort as you remind yourself of the harsh reality.

it’s only then when sarah reaches your side, giving her brother a meaningful look. rafe lets it go, taking a step back and cursing under his breath. the hurt in his eyes is noticeable, even though he looks way healthier than a year ago.

you frown. his jaw clenches. sarah pulls you away, and you can’t help but wonder if there’s nothing left between the two of you. he’s your best friend - always has been and probably always will be - but his betrayal cut you deeper than anyone else’s could have.

“i meant what i said!” he calls after you. upon turning around one last time, you notice topper pulling a bottle of vodka from his grip as he stares after you. shaking your head, you turn your back on him again.

you excuse yourself from your best friend’s presence, ignoring the excessive stares you’re receiving as you slip to the bathroom. you hadn’t missed this, the fishbowl effect as pope once called it, but you’d rather face them than your ex.

after locking the door and letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, a terrible realisation dawns on you. one that you knew all this time. no time or distance apart could really stop it. you still love rafe.

[leesleelee]

The babysitters Chronicles.

Steve Harrington x male! reader

After the events of season 3, Hawkins has settled into a quieter routine. However, the threat of the Upside Down lingers in the background. You, Lucas' cousin has moved back to Hawkins to help out. While helping out, you meet someone who ends up being your teammate.

CW: Mild Language, emotional vulnerability, romantic themes, mention of past trauma, light angst.

Word Count: 6,863

The babysitters.

We were under the same roof.

The summer had passed, but Hawkins was still settling back into some semblance of normalcy.

At least, that’s what your parents told you as they sent you off to stay with your cousin Lucas and his family.

After everything that had happened, it was clear you were needed, even if you weren’t sure what your role would be in all this.

Your first day in Hawkins was quiet, too quiet.

The kind of quiet that made you feel like something important was still lingering in the air. You hadn’t been around Lucas, Mike, Max, Dustin, or the others much before, so you didn’t know what to expect.

All you knew was that things had been... complicated. And now, you were supposed to help take care of the kids. Easier said than done.

The house you found yourself in was familiar, Lucas’ family home, but it felt different now, like the walls carried secrets you weren’t privy to yet.

The laughter and chaos coming from the living room was a clear indication that life here, though quieter, was anything but normal. You hesitated at the doorway, unsure of how to join the group, and whether they’d even care that you’d just moved into town.

The first thing you noticed was the noise. It wasn’t loud, not exactly, but it was constant.

Mike and Dustin were arguing over some ridiculous game on the floor, while Lucas and Max were half-heartedly attempting to referee.

The energy was almost too much; too many moving parts, too many voices, but it wasn’t unpleasant. Just... overwhelming.

Then, your eyes landed on him.

Steve Harrington, leaning casually against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. His presence seemed to fill the room, not with the usual ‘king of the school’ bravado you’d heard about, but with something warmer;

more grounded.

He was part of the chaos, but he was also a quiet anchor in the middle of it. His eyes flickered over to you as you stood there, unsure of how to make an entrance, but instead of the usual dismissive glance or curiosity, there was a softness in his gaze.

“Hey,” he greeted you, his voice surprisingly calm amidst the rowdy chatter. He offered a small smile, the kind that didn’t try too hard but was somehow inviting.

“You must be the new guy.”

You nodded, not sure if that was the right thing to do.

“Yeah, that’d be me. I’m... staying with Lucas for a while.”

Steve’s expression softened, his arms uncrossing as he straightened up.

“I figured as much. Everyone’s talking about you.” There was no teasing or judgment in his tone, just a genuine acknowledgment.

You glanced at Lucas, who was still in the middle of breaking up another argument between Mike and Dustin, and then back to Steve.

“How do you... handle all of this?”

You asked, half-laughing at the mess in front of you. The kids were all loud, taking sides, making plans for whatever trouble they were about to get into.

Steve looked over at them with a small shake of his head, like he was used to it by now. “It’s... a work in progress,” he said slowly, as if carefully choosing his words.

“You get used to the noise. And the drama.” His smile grew slightly, and you could see how he effortlessly slid into his role as the unspoken leader of the group. “You’ve got your hands full now, though. This lot knows how to make a mess.”

“Seems like they’re good at it,” you commented, your voice dry, feeling the weight of the situation.

You didn’t know how you were supposed to fit in, how you were supposed to navigate being the new person here.

Steve gave you a knowing look. “Don’t worry. We all get thrown into the deep end at some point. You’ll be fine.”

His tone was light, but there was something reassuring about it, as if he genuinely meant it.

You weren’t sure what to say to that, so you just watched as he moved across the room, stepping into the chaos like it was second nature to him.

He bent down to break up a new fight between Max and Dustin, using his usual calm, but firm, voice to smooth things over. There was a practiced ease to his movements, like he had done this a hundred times before.

You stood there for a moment, observing him. He was different from what you expected, much more patient and steady.

You’d heard the stories, Steve Harrington, the former high school king, the one who had been through his own share of messes, but somehow ended up here, looking out for the kids.

He was more than just the nickname.

It wasn’t until you saw him glance back at you, that small, amused smile tugging at his lips, that you realized you’d been watching him a little too intently.

He raised an eyebrow, catching your gaze, and for a second, there was an unspoken understanding between you two, something fleeting but real.

“Okay, new guy,” he said, his voice a little more relaxed, like he was letting down some of his own walls.

“Want to team up? We can tag team this babysitting gig. Trust me, it works better when there are two of us.”

You didn’t know what made you agree, but there was something about Steve, something that made it easy to fall into a rhythm with him, even if it was just a simple offer to help manage the chaos.

You nodded, stepping a little further into the room.

“Sure,” you said, your voice quieter now, more certain. “I can give it a shot.”

For a moment, it didn’t feel so overwhelming.

With Steve, there was a quiet reassurance that maybe, just maybe, this would be easier than you thought. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, helping to take care of the kids and settling into Hawkins.

And maybe, just maybe, there was more to Steve than the stories you’d heard.

As the two of you began working together to keep the kids from escalating into more trouble, you couldn’t help but notice the small gestures, the way Steve made sure you were comfortable and involved, offering quiet smiles and half-jokes when the kids got too rowdy.

It was nothing big, nothing overt, but in that moment, you realized something, this wasn’t just babysitting.

This was the beginning of something new.

And even if it was just a small spark, you couldn’t help but feel like it had the potential to grow into something more.

---

The moment you agreed to help, you immediately regretted it.

Max had suggested they all play a game of Dungeons & Dragons, but somehow it devolved into an all-out war of opinions, everyone trying to one-up each other with the most ridiculous rules.

Dustin and Mike were arguing over whose character was the most powerful, while Lucas tried to keep them in check, but his attention was split.

Max, naturally, refused to be part of it at all, folding her arms and glaring at the lot of them as if she were too cool for the entire situation.

And in the middle of it all, Steve was... well, Steve.

His usual nonchalant attitude made him seem like this was just another ordinary Saturday for him.

He leaned back against the couch, one hand lazily draped over the backrest, while the other played with a half-empty bag of chips.

You glanced at Steve, silently pleading for help. He caught your eye, his lips twitching in amusement, but he didn’t offer any immediate assistance.

Instead, he was waiting for you to jump into the fray. You took a deep breath and stepped into the chaos, walking over to where Lucas and Mike were practically nose-to-nose, arguing over whether a roll of the dice was “totally unfair.”

“Hey!” you called out, a little louder than you intended. All heads turned toward you.

Steve’s gaze lingered on you for a moment, something almost like pride flickering behind his eyes as you took charge of the situation.

“Okay, seriously?” you said, raising an eyebrow.

“We’re gonna be here all day if you keep fighting like this. What’s the point of a game if you don’t even know the rules?”

Lucas shot you a grateful look.

“See? I told them it’s about having fun, not trying to win every single time.”

“I don’t always try to win,” Dustin protested, looking offended.

He glanced at Mike.

“But Mike’s character is completely OP. I mean, who even lets a wizard have that many spells?”

“Yeah, well, you guys aren’t playing right!” Mike shot back, completely missing the point.

Steve leaned in, clearly enjoying the drama. “Boys, boys,” he said, with a theatrical sigh.

“How about we agree that everyone can have their turn to be the biggest nerd, but nobody gets to hog the spotlight? Deal?”

You could practically hear the collective groan of annoyance from the kids, but it did the trick, at least for the moment.

“Okay, okay, fine,” Dustin grumbled, sitting down with a huff.

“Let’s just get this over with.”

Just as things seemed to calm down, a high-pitched shriek cut through the air.

Max had decided she was done with the game and was now attempting to sneak into the kitchen to steal the last of the snacks.

“Hey! Max! Get back here!” Steve shouted, moving with surprising speed as he jumped off the couch and chased after her.

You didn’t hesitate to follow, knowing the chaos would only escalate if someone didn’t stop it.

You found Steve cornering Max at the kitchen table, a small bag of pretzels clutched in her hands like she was about to make a getaway.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Steve asked, his voice amused but firm, his hands on his hips as if this were a routine.

Max rolled her eyes dramatically, holding the snacks out in front of her like they were a trophy.

“What does it look like I’m doing? Getting a snack. You guys have been hogging everything.”

“I don’t think I’ve seen anyone eating pretzels since last week, Max,” you said, crossing your arms.

“You just want to be dramatic, huh?”

Max flashed you a smirk. “If you’re gonna let Steve win, that’s your problem.”

You raised your hands in mock surrender.

“I’m just here to keep the peace, not to pick sides.”

Steve leaned in closer, lowering his voice as if he were sharing a secret.

“I’ll let you in on a little secret,” he said, his words only meant for you.

“She gets really feisty when she’s hungry.”

You raised an eyebrow, fighting back a smile. “Noted.”

Max huffed, crossing her arms, but Steve wasn’t letting her off that easily. He took the bag from her hands with a dramatic flourish, giving her a look of mock disappointment.

“You can have some, but you have to promise to play nice with the others. No more stealing snacks.”

Max rolled her eyes again but grudgingly nodded.

“Fine, whatever.”

With the snack crisis temporarily averted, you and Steve returned to the living room, but not before you heard Dustin and Mike get into another heated discussion about which character was the best choice for their next round.

You exchanged a glance with Steve, who was clearly done with the constant back-and-forth.

“You wanna call it quits for the day?” Steve asked, leaning toward you with a grin.

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “I think that’s probably a good idea. They’re never going to agree on anything if we don’t step in.”

Just as you were about to suggest a break, the sound of crashing plastic echoed from the corner of the room.

You and Steve turned just in time to see Lucas trip over his own shoelaces, sending a bowl of popcorn flying across the floor.

The kids burst into laughter, and even Steve couldn't hold back a chuckle.

You couldn’t help but smile at the mess of it all, and for a moment, it felt like you were just another part of the family.

“You know,” you said, shaking your head,

“I can’t tell if I’m actually helping or just making things worse.”

Steve shrugged, his grin widening.

“Sometimes it’s about surviving the chaos, not solving it. Trust me, you’re doing fine.”

As the room settled into a familiar pattern of laughter and minor bickering, you realized that, despite the madness, it wasn’t so bad.

Steve had a way of making the chaos feel manageable, and it felt like, maybe, just maybe, you could get used to this.

---

The sun had begun to dip below the horizon, casting a warm glow across the room.

The chaos of the afternoon had finally settled into a comfortable lull, and the kids had either scattered to their respective corners of the house or fallen into a quiet, tired stupor.

The game was over, the snacks were long gone, and the living room now felt almost eerily calm in comparison to the frenzy that had come before.

You leaned back against the couch, the soft hum of a television in the background barely audible.

Max was sprawled out in one of the armchairs, her headphones in, while Dustin and Mike were attempting some quiet video game battle in the corner.

Even Lucas had found a moment to relax, reading through a comic book by the window.

Steve, on the other hand, had found a quiet corner near the window, arms loosely crossed as he gazed outside at the fading light.

His usual energy had settled, his expression softer now than it had been all day.

You watched him for a moment, the way the light caught the edges of his hair, how his gaze seemed far away, lost in thought.

It was the first time today that he didn’t seem like he was on high alert, ready to jump in and referee the next round of bickering. He looked... peaceful.

For a moment, you considered just letting him be.

But something about the quiet pulled you closer, a small voice telling you to take a chance, to say something.

“Hey,”

you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper.

It felt strange to break the silence, but you did anyway. “You doing okay?”

Steve shifted slightly, as though your voice had brought him out of his thoughts.

He turned his head slightly, catching your eye. A faint smile tugged at his lips as he uncrossed his arms and sat up a little straighter.

“I’m good,” he replied, his voice low and calm.

“Just... needed a second. Been a long day, huh?”

You nodded slowly, relaxing into the cushions as you considered his words.

“Yeah, it’s definitely been... eventful. But, uh, it’s not so bad. You’ve handled it pretty well.”

Steve let out a small, almost embarrassed chuckle.

“I don’t know about that. Half the time I’m just winging it.” His gaze flickered toward the kids again, watching them interact with a small, fond smile on his face.

“But, I guess it works out. You’re not doing too bad yourself.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Me? I feel like I’m just getting dragged along.”

“That’s part of the fun, right?” Steve said with a shrug, still grinning a little. His tone was teasing, but there was a warmth there, too, a genuine appreciation.

“But seriously, you’ve got a good way with them. They listen to you, which is more than I can say for myself sometimes.”

You chuckled softly, shifting so you were sitting a little closer to him.

“I guess we make a good team, huh?”

Steve glanced at you again, his smile widening just a little. “Yeah, I think we do.”

His voice was quieter this time, more thoughtful. “It’s kind of nice, y’know, having someone to share all this with. Feels a little less crazy when it’s not just me trying to keep everything in check.”

You didn’t say anything right away, letting the words sink in.

You had noticed, of course, how Steve had a way of keeping things under control—of bringing a sense of calm to the madness.

But hearing him say it, hearing the vulnerability in his voice as he admitted he wasn’t always sure he had it all together, made you feel... closer to him, in a way.

Like you weren’t just playing along in his world, but that you were starting to share it.

“You know,” you said quietly, looking out the window where the last remnants of the sunset painted the sky in shades of orange and pink, “I didn’t think it’d be like this when I moved here. All the noise, all the... chaos.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “But it’s kind of nice. In a weird way.”

Steve followed your gaze, his eyes narrowing slightly as he looked out at the fading light.

“Yeah. It’s nice. I think the chaos makes the quiet moments worth it.” He paused, the corner of his mouth twitching like he was holding back another smile.

“And... I think the quiet moments make the chaos feel a little less crazy, too.”

You smiled at his words, the weight of the afternoon finally lifting off your shoulders.

The world outside seemed a little calmer now, the house filled with the soft sounds of the kids in their own little worlds, and Steve sitting next to you, as relaxed as you’d ever seen him.

There was something comforting about this silence, the way everything felt in sync for once.

You didn’t feel the need to fill the air with conversation or distractions. Instead, you could just enjoy the moment for what it was, a brief, quiet pause in the midst of the whirlwind that had been your day.

Steve’s gaze lingered on you for a moment, and you met his eyes, a soft, unspoken understanding passing between you.

Maybe it was the way the evening light softened everything, or the way his presence just felt right, but in that quiet moment, you couldn’t deny it: being here with him felt... good.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Steve said, the words simple but meaningful, his voice steady and warm.

You nodded, a quiet smile curving on your lips. “Me too.”

---

The days after the babysitting adventure had settled into something like routine.

The kids were still as chaotic as ever, but with each passing day, you found yourself easing into the role.

There were moments of laughter, moments of frustration, and, more often than not, you found yourself alongside Steve, trying to juggle the madness.

It wasn’t so much the kids that had started to feel comfortable, it was being around Steve.

Somewhere between handling arguments over video games, calming Max down after she’d stormed off in a huff, and Steve always having just the right words to make everyone laugh or take a break, you’d started to notice something.

The way Steve looked at you wasn’t quite like it had been at first. It was subtle at first,an extra beat of silence when your eyes met, the small, easy smiles that didn’t feel forced, like they used to.

There was an ease in his presence now, a comfortable kind of quiet that you found yourself craving when the noise of the group became too overwhelming.

Today was no different. The kids were in the backyard, playing basketball, and you’d volunteered to stay inside with Steve, mostly because the sun was just a little too hot, and you both had been the designated “guardians of peace.”

You were sitting at the kitchen table, sipping on a drink, while Steve was lazily washing dishes, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

The rhythmic sound of water running, the occasional clink of plates, and the quiet murmurs between you two were almost soothing.

“So,” Steve said, his voice breaking the silence, “how’s school been? You surviving senior year?”

You glanced up from your drink, considering the question. “It’s been alright,” you replied, a small shrug following your words.

“I mean, it’s school. It’s nothing I can’t handle. But it’s... different, you know? Moving here after everything that happened... it’s kind of thrown me off. I feel like I’m still adjusting.”

Steve chuckled, wiping his hands dry on the dish towel.

“Yeah, I get that. Hawkins has a way of making things feel a little weird, right? Everything’s either too normal or too weird, never just... normal.”

You laughed softly, nodding in agreement.

“Exactly. It’s like one minute, I’m trying to figure out how to survive high school, and the next, I’m wondering if I’ll have to deal with some weird, otherworldly creature again.”

Steve smirked, tossing the towel aside and leaning against the counter. “I’m pretty sure that’s part of the charm of this place. You never really know what’s gonna happen next. Makes life interesting, I guess.”

The way he said it made you chuckle, and for a moment, it felt like you were just... talking.

Not about anything important, not anything heavy, but just sharing a moment of lightness, of understanding. It wasn’t often that you felt that way with someone, especially after moving to a new place.

But with Steve, it was easy.

“You know,” you said after a beat, “I didn’t really expect you to be this... chill.”

Steve raised an eyebrow, clearly amused.

“Chill? What, you thought I’d be some angry jock or something?”

You shrugged, trying to hide your smile. “I don’t know. It’s just—well, you’re different than what I thought you’d be.”

Steve laughed, shaking his head. “Yeah, I get that a lot. People usually think I’m all about the hair, the car, the ‘cool guy’ persona.” He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “Guess I got that reputation, huh?”

You couldn’t help but smile, amused by his self-deprecating humor. “I mean, yeah, but there’s more to you than that.”

You paused, looking down at your drink as you thought for a moment. “It’s just... you’re not what I expected. But in a good way.”

Steve’s expression softened at your words, and for a moment, you both just stood there in the quiet of the kitchen, the noise of the kids in the backyard still distant.

There was something comforting about the silence between you two, something that felt like it was slowly pulling you both closer.

Steve shifted on his feet, his gaze never leaving you as he leaned in slightly, as though choosing his words carefully.

“Well... I’m glad to hear that. Honestly, I didn’t really know what to expect from you either when you moved here.”

You looked up at him, curiosity flickering in your eyes. “Oh yeah? What did you think I’d be like?”

He chuckled softly, his expression light.

“I don’t know, honestly. I thought you’d be like one of those people who just comes in, says ‘hi,’ and disappears. You know, all distant and stuff. But you’re... not like that at all.”

You smiled, a small, genuine smile that came naturally. “I’m not that bad, am I?”

Steve’s grin was playful, but there was something more behind it. “Nah. Not bad at all.”

It was funny, how easy it felt to talk to him.

The way the conversation flowed from one moment to the next, no forced pauses, no awkwardness. It felt natural, like the both of you had always been able to share this space.

The kids outside were getting louder, the ball bouncing off the ground, a few of them laughing at some sort of inside joke, but it didn’t matter.

It felt like you and Steve were in your own little bubble, and for once, the rest of the world didn’t need to intrude.

“I’m glad I’m here,” Steve said softly, almost as an afterthought, as he turned back to the sink, his fingers absently running over the rim of a glass.

“I mean, you’ve made things... easier.”

You watched him for a moment, the words hanging in the air between you two.

He hadn’t said anything too deep, but there was a sincerity in his voice that made your heart skip a beat

You were getting used to this, getting used to him being around, getting used to the quiet moments, to how easy it felt to just be in each other’s company.

“I’m glad you’re here too,” you said, the words coming out quieter than you meant them to.

For a moment, Steve didn’t respond, but the smile he gave you was enough. It was soft, almost shy, but there was something in it that told you he felt the same way.

---

It had been a long week, the kind of week that blended together, filled with the usual mix of chaos, laughter, and quiet moments with Steve.

Every time you thought the day would settle into something predictable, there was always a curveball, whether it was Dustin’s never-ending energy, Max’s occasional storms, or the endless basketball games in the driveway.

But, despite the noise, the moments spent with Steve felt different. Lately, you’d found yourself looking forward to them more than you cared to admit.

It was late on a Friday evening, and the kids had all scattered off to their rooms, giving you and Steve the rare chance for some time to yourselves.

The house was quiet, save for the soft hum of the refrigerator and the distant sounds of the night outside.

You were sitting on the couch, a book in your lap, your thoughts wandering far from the pages in front of you. You could hear Steve in the kitchen, putting away some leftovers from dinner, humming to himself absentmindedly.

The usual chatter and playful teasing had quieted down, and you realized, for the first time in a long while, that you weren’t focused on keeping things light anymore.

You weren’t just babysitting the kids or keeping the peace.

You were... drawn to Steve.

And it wasn’t just about the way he’d smile when he caught your eye, or how he’d laugh when you cracked a joke. It was the way he made you feel. Safe. Understood.

Like you were both in this together. Like this moment, this piece of life, was something worth holding onto.

Without thinking, you closed the book and set it aside, standing up and walking toward the kitchen, your steps slow but deliberate.

Steve was humming louder now, moving around the kitchen, but when you leaned against the doorframe, he paused and glanced over at you, raising an eyebrow.

“What’s up?” he asked, wiping his hands on a towel.

You hesitated for a second, not entirely sure what you were about to say, but knowing that it was time to say something.

Something that had been building up in you for weeks now. Something you couldn’t ignore any longer.

“I don’t know,” you said, the words coming out a little quieter than you meant them to.

“I guess... I’ve been thinking.”

Steve tilted his head slightly, clearly interested, but he didn’t push. He just stood there, waiting for you to continue, his expression soft and open.

“About... us, I guess,” you continued, your heart beating a little faster now.

“About how things have been. How... I’ve been feeling. And, I just—”

You stopped yourself, taking a breath. You didn’t know how to explain it, didn’t know how to put into words what had been bubbling up inside you.

But Steve, in his usual way, seemed to sense what you were getting at. His expression softened, and he took a step closer to you, his voice gentle.

“You mean how it feels like we’ve been getting closer?” he asked, his tone teasing but sincere.

You nodded, looking up at him.

“Yeah. I didn’t think it would happen this way, but... yeah. I guess I’ve been feeling it too.”

Steve leaned against the counter, letting out a small breath as he looked down at his hands.

For a moment, you thought he might change the subject, but instead, his voice softened, more vulnerable than you’d ever heard it.

“You know,” he began, “I’m not always this put-together. Like, I joke around and act like I’ve got it all figured out, but... I don’t. Not even close.”

The honesty in his voice surprised you, and you stepped closer, silently encouraging him to continue.

He glanced at you, his eyes searching yours for a moment before looking away again.

“After everything that happened with... the Upside Down, losing people, and just... everything,” he said, his voice faltering slightly,

“it messed me up. I tried to be the guy who could take care of everyone, who could keep it together for the kids, but sometimes... it feels like I’m barely holding on.”

You felt your chest tighten at his words.

It wasn’t often that Steve let his guard down like this, and hearing the cracks in his usual confident exterior made you realize just how much he carried on his shoulders.

“I don’t know why I’m telling you this,” Steve continued, shaking his head with a small, self-conscious laugh.

“Maybe because you’ve been there too. You get it, in a way that not a lot of people do.”

You reached out instinctively, placing a hand on his arm.

The gesture was simple, but it seemed to ground him. He looked up at you, his eyes meeting yours, and for a moment, the vulnerability in his expression was almost overwhelming.

“You don’t have to do it alone, Steve,” you said softly. “You don’t have to be the guy who always has it figured out. We’ve all been through a lot, and it’s okay to lean on someone else sometimes.”

Steve let out a small breath, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

“Yeah. I think I’m starting to figure that out. Especially with you.”

The words hung in the air between you, and the realization of what he’d just said made your heart skip a beat.

He hadn’t said it directly, but the meaning was clear. You weren’t just someone he was confiding in. You were someone he trusted, someone he wanted to keep close.

“I’m glad I’m here,” Steve said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “And I’m glad you’re here too.”

Your hand lingered on his arm for a moment longer before you stepped back, the weight of the moment settling between you. There was something undeniable in the air now, something unspoken but understood.

The connection between you two wasn’t just friendship—it was something more, something neither of you could ignore any longer.

Steve stared at your lips and cracked a smile.

---

It had been a few weeks since that quiet night in the kitchen when everything changed.

You and Steve hadn’t spoken directly about what happened, but the air between you was different now.

The small moments lingered longer, the playful touches and glances felt heavier, and the teasing banter was layered with something unspoken. Something real.

The kids, of course, hadn’t noticed anything, too caught up in their own world of campaigns, arcade games, and adolescent drama.

But you noticed. Steve noticed. And, slowly but surely, the dynamic between you two shifted into something neither of you could name just yet.

The first time it hit you was at the arcade.

It had been Max’s idea to gather everyone, and somehow, you and Steve had been roped into chaperoning.

The kids scattered the moment you arrived, racing to their favorite machines and leaving you two by the snack counter.

Steve leaned casually against the counter, sipping a Coke, his hair as perfect as ever.

You couldn’t help but smirk at how effortlessly he pulled off the whole "cool guy" look.

“You know,” you said, nudging him playfully,

“you’ve got a serious reputation to uphold. Babysitter extraordinaire, hero of Hawkins… how do you handle all the pressure?”

He laughed, a genuine, warm sound that made your chest tighten.

“It’s tough, but someone’s gotta do it,” he quipped, taking another sip. Then he glanced at you, his expression softening. “I mean, it helps having backup now.”

The way he said it, so casually but with a weight that told you he meant it, made your stomach flip.

You looked away, pretending to focus on the kids in the distance, but the warmth creeping up your neck betrayed you.

“Backup, huh?” you replied, your voice teasing but quieter now.

“Guess that makes me your sidekick.”

Steve nudged you back, his shoulder brushing yours in a way that felt deliberate.

“Nah, more like my boyfriend.”

The word hung in the air between you, and for a moment, it felt like the entire arcade had gone silent.

You glanced at him, and the small, knowing smile on his face made your heart race.

“Boyfriend, huh?” you murmured, trying to sound nonchalant but failing miserably.

He shrugged, his smile widening. “Yeah. You know… someone I can count on. Someone I can... trust.”

The intensity of his gaze made your breath catch, and you felt like you were teetering on the edge of something big.

But before you could respond, Dustin’s voice cut through the moment, shouting for both of you to “hurry up and come see this!”

Steve chuckled, the spell between you broken but not forgotten.

“Guess duty calls,” he said, giving you a quick wink before heading toward the kids.

You followed, your chest still buzzing from the exchange.

---

The second time it happened was during a late-night drive. The kids were all asleep in the back of Steve’s car after a long day at the pool, and the quiet hum of the engine filled the silence.

You were sitting in the passenger seat, your head resting against the window as the streetlights flickered past.

Steve glanced over at you, his hands steady on the wheel.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice low.

You turned to him, smiling softly. “Yeah. Just… tired, I guess.”

He nodded, his eyes flicking back to the road. “It’s been a long day.”

There was a pause, and then he added, almost hesitantly, “You know, I’ve been thinking… I like this.”

“Like what?” you asked, genuinely curious.

“This,”

He said, gesturing vaguely. “The quiet. The… normal. After everything we’ve been through, it’s nice, y’know? Just driving around with you. Feels... right.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and you couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah,” you murmured. “It does.”

The rest of the drive was quiet, but the air between you was charged, every glance and shared silence saying more than words ever could.

---

The third time it happened was at the Wheeler’s basement, during another one of the kids’ chaotic campaigns.

The two of you sat on the couch, watching the kids argue over strategy, your shoulders pressed together.

Steve leaned in close, pretending to whisper about the game but letting his breath tickle your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Think they’ll ever figure it out?” he teased, his voice low and warm.

“Doubt it,” you replied, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickened at his proximity.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes meeting yours, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to fade.

You could feel the tension building, the unspoken feelings between you growing harder to ignore.

Before either of you could say anything, Lucas shouted in triumph, breaking the moment.

Steve groaned dramatically, leaning back against the couch, but his hand brushed against yours as he did. Neither of you moved it.

It was moments like these, small, fleeting, but deeply significant, that defined the slow burn of your relationship.

Every shared look, every playful touch, every quiet conversation brought you closer, inch by inch, until the line between friendship and something more was barely there at all. And though neither of you had said the words yet, you both knew they were coming. It was just a matter of time.

---

The night was still, the stars scattered across the sky like someone had spilled glitter over velvet.

You and Steve were sitting on the roof of your house, a favorite spot you’d both discovered during one of the kids’ sleepovers.

The chaos of the day had finally settled, leaving behind a peaceful quiet that you’d grown to cherish in moments like these.

Steve sat beside you, legs stretched out, his hands resting on his knees as he gazed up at the stars.

He looked calm, content, but there was something in his posture, his fingers tapping absently against his leg, the way he kept glancing at you from the corner of his eye, that told you he had something on his mind.

“You ever think about what’s next?” he asked suddenly, his voice soft but clear in the stillness.

You turned to him, caught off guard by the question. “Next?”

“Yeah, like... after all of this. The kids, Hawkins, everything.”

He gestured vaguely to the sky, his lips quirking in a small, self-conscious smile.

“I don’t know. Sometimes it feels like this town is all I’ve got, y’know? Like I’ll always be Steve Harrington, babysitter extraordinaire.”

You chuckled softly, nudging him with your shoulder.

“You’re a little more than that, you know.”

He smiled at the nudge, but the vulnerability in his eyes didn’t waver.

“I don’t know. I guess I just... I want more. Something real. Something that makes me feel like... I belong.”

His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning.

You felt your heart ache at the openness in his voice, the quiet longing he rarely let anyone see.

“You do belong, Steve,” you said after a moment, your voice gentle but firm. “To the kids, to this place... to me.”

The last part came out before you could stop it, but you didn’t regret it.

It was the truth, and it was time to stop dancing around it.

Steve turned to you, his eyes searching yours, and you could see the moment your words sank in.

His lips parted slightly, like he was about to say something, but instead, he just stared at you, his expression unreadable.

“I mean it,” you continued, your voice quieter now.

“You’re not just... some guy who keeps the kids out of trouble. You’re more than that, Steve. You’re... everything. To them, sure, but to me, too. And I don’t want you to think you’re not enough, because you are. You always have been.”

Steve blinked, his breath hitching slightly as your words settled over him.

Then, slowly, a small, almost disbelieving smile began to tug at the corners of his lips.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to hear something like that?” he asked, his voice soft, almost like he was afraid to break the moment.

You smiled back, your chest tight with emotion.

“Maybe as long as I’ve wanted to say it.”

There was a beat of silence, the kind of silence that felt full instead of empty, as if the world itself was holding its breath.

Then, Steve reached out, his hand brushing against yours before lacing his fingers through yours.

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way before,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Like... like I finally found someone who sees me. Not just the guy who drives the kids around, or the guy who screws things up half the time. Just... me.”

You felt your heart swell at his words, and without thinking, you leaned closer, your free hand resting lightly on his arm.

“I see you, Steve,” you said softly, your eyes locked on his. “I’ve always seen you. And I—”

The words caught in your throat, but you didn’t need to finish them. The look in his eyes told you he already knew.

He leaned in, his forehead resting gently against yours, and for a moment, the world felt perfectly still.

“I think I’m falling for you,”

he murmured, his voice trembling slightly but filled with sincerity.

You closed your eyes, your heart pounding in your chest.

“I think I already have.”

The confession hung between you, weightless and freeing all at once.

Steve pulled back just enough to look at you, his expression soft but filled with something deeper, something you couldn’t quite put into words.

Then, with a tenderness that made your breath catch, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours.

The kiss was soft, unhurried, and filled with all the emotions that had been building between you for weeks. It wasn’t just a kiss, it was a promise. A promise that this was real, that whatever came next, you’d face it together.

When you finally pulled back, Steve smiled at you, his cheeks flushed but his eyes shining with a happiness you’d never seen before.

“So,” he said, his voice teasing but warm, “does this mean you’re my boyfriend for real now?”

You laughed, shaking your head as you squeezed his hand. “Yeah, Harrington. I guess it does.”

And as you sat there on the roof, your hand in his, the stars shining above, you knew that this was just the beginning. The beginning of something real. Something that finally felt like home.

Thank you, Hawkins.

---

Credits: The Steve Harrington border I used was made by me, but the blue border was made by: kodaswrld!! Go and support them 🫶🏽

[lillaydee]

Head Over Heels Part 3

Jackson!Joel / Reader

Special Guest Appearance by a Certain FBI Agent who may or may not look a lot like Joel.

You left the loneliness of your home and headed to Jackson with Joel and the teenage girl he was with, hoping your new life would be less lonely. You should've stayed alone.

WARNING:

Non-canon Compliant, Pining, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Joel (The Last of Us), Joel is Bad at Feelings (The Last of Us), Joel Needs a Hug (The Last of Us), Joel Lives (The Last of Us), Protective Joel (The Last of Us), Soft Joel (The Last of Us), Jealousy, Loneliness, Trauma.

MEGA WARNING: Descriptions of Attempted Sexual Assault.

@copperhalfcent @joelalorian @vickie5446 @peelieblue @nandan11

SERIES MASTER LIST

Part 2

---

Three weeks. You waited for him to come back for three weeks. For three whole weeks, you counted the days and the nights, scratching the wall of the basement with a rock to get your bearings on the days right. For three whole weeks, you kept to the few houses that surrounded you for fear that he came back to an empty basement. For three whole weeks, you ate whatever squirrels, birds, rats and rabbits you could find, not daring to go further to look for anything else. All in the vain hope he would come back to get you once he got Ellie.

You understood, you really did. You would have gone after Ellie too. She was the whole reason you were there. Both you and Joel cared about her. But you would have come back for him, despite everything. Yet, days, and later weeks went by and they hadn't returned.

It was hard to see the brighter side when you were alone in a basement, feeling left behind.

Of course he wouldn’t come back for you. Why would he? The man hated you. You laughed at yourself for ever thinking he might’ve warmed up to your presence, that maybe, just maybe, he was thankful you had nursed him back to health. To think you once hoped that he would reciprocate your stupid crush on him.

You were irrationally angry. For the days when he was sick, you didn’t dare move from the place, not wanting to leave him defenceless. And yet, here you were, three weeks later, waiting for him to come back for you. He left you alone in the basement, injured and unconscious. Frankly you were shocked he didn’t just take everything you had with him as well. Might as well have, if he was going to leave you to die, why not just leave you defenceless altogether? He’d be doing you a favour.

Thank God he didn’t, though. Those three weeks did not pass without incident. You managed to kill a few infected, hid from some men who came by to collect the body of the man Joel had killed, and fought off a couple who was passing by, scavenging your meagre supplies in the basement. To be fair, fighting them off wasn’t exactly hard, they seemed to be more scared of you than you were of them, the woman managing to get away with the scarf Maria had given you to wear on the road and your blanket. Oh, well, winter was coming to an end anyway. You wouldn’t need that scarf soon. But it still left you shaking and crying, so thankful you managed to get out of that unscathed.

By the time two weeks passed, winter was leaving, and spring was coming. The white fluffy grounds were quickly turning to slush, more and more of the ground showing than the white snow, and soon, the infected were going to be a lot more active. So would people. You should leave.

But where to?

Joel was the one with the map. He was the one who was more reliable with directions. You merely followed along, making sure Ellie was covered and safe. At this point, you weren’t even sure you wanted to go back to Jackson. If Joel and Ellie survived, it was pretty clear that they didn’t want you with them, or they would’ve come back for you. Wherever they went, it had to do with those men. You doubted that they lived anywhere that would take longer than a few days to go to and come back from, seeing as they only took a few days to track Ellie from where she met them, and according to her, it only took a few hours for the guy to go back to their camp to get the penicillin. So, your travel mates ditched you. They didn’t want your company. Why go back to Jackson and face them?

And if they didn’t ditch you but lost their fights instead…

No. You were not going to that headspace. They’re alright. They’re fine.

So, where to?

You decided you were going to make your way to the interstate first. Get a general direction. Find a signboard at least. Walk the roadsides where you couldn’t be seen. See where the road took you.

So, at the end of the third week, you started walking. You walked, and walked, and walked, and then you walked some more. You even walked at night, those first couple of days, the prospect of camping out in the open alone too daunting to think of, so you decided to keep walking until you could find somewhere safer.

By the time you got to the interstate and figured which way you should walk towards to go back to Jackson, a thought invaded your brain and wouldn’t leave. If they had survived and didn’t come back to you, it’s clear that they had left you. But you promised Ellie you wouldn’t leave her. And if there was a chance she was alive, you wanted to keep that promise. You lived in a world where you could die at any time, and you didn’t want to die as someone who broke her promise to a teenage girl. You were already here, why not just go to the hospital? It would be farther to get back to Jackson anyway, so why not?

You followed the signboard to the hospital and made it there within a few days. You slept in abandoned cars when you got tired and walked on as soon as you got up. You kept walking, realizing that although you were alone, you didn’t feel lonely. Your mind went back to the books you used to read, movies you used to watch, smiling to yourself, even laughing at times when you remembered things that used to make you laugh.

And then, by day five, you heard something in the wind. You walked along, gun out, slowly, stealthily, not wanting to alert anyone or anything that shouldn’t be alerted. You turned a corner and the sound got a bit clearer, and that’s when you saw them. From afar.

They were feeding giraffes. Ellie was laughing, Joel was smiling.

You watched them, from a distance, as they walked on, talking to each other, Joel talking more than you’d ever seen him talk. Ellie’s body language seemed a bit… subdued, despite her looking as if she was trying to be her bubbly self, if your eyes were not deceiving you. But otherwise, they might as well be father and daughter on an evening stroll together. An unlikely couple, but there they were, at ease in each other’s presence. The gruff, grumpy man and the teenager.

And just like that, you felt lonely again. You scolded yourself for your own silliness. You chose to come here, so why were you wallowing in self-pity? So the man didn’t reciprocate your feelings for him, openly called the idea of the two of you together stupid. So he left you to die alone. He made no effort in hiding the fact that Ellie was ‘cargo’ to him, a job. Maybe you were ‘cargo’ too, except there was no payment to be had on your head. So he dumped the ‘cargo’ that was you and left to get the more precious one. So what? You’re a grown woman. Get over it. Go keep your promise, and then you can leave without the burden of not keeping your promise to Ellie weighing down on your conscience.

Yeah. That’s the mature thing to do.

You waited until they were nearer to you before showing yourself, standing in their path about a hundred yards ahead of them. When they saw you, they stopped in their tracks, Joel looking as if he had just seen a ghost. Ellie stood there, stock still for a moment before running towards you, throwing herself in your arms, telling you she was so happy to see you.

She hugged you for a while, sobbing into your chest, not saying anything after that initial greeting. Joel walked over, his eyes still on you, his face unreadable. When Ellie finally let go of you, face wet with tears, she asked you how was it that you were there?

“I made a promise to you, that I wouldn’t leave you, so here I am.”

“Don’t worry. I know you don’t want me here. I won’t hold you leaving me to die against you, Joel. I know you had a reason to do what you did. I’ll just accompany you to the hospital and then I’ll be on my way. I just wanted to keep a promise. I won’t bother you for long,” you said before you could stop yourself, not wanting to cry or show him you were hurt.

You looked at Joel, who still had the most indecipherable look on his face. Was he disappointed you were here and didn’t die in that basement? Was he annoyed? What? Ever heard of a facial expression, Joel?

But everything you knew about him and his feelings for you made you feel certain that none of what he was feeling inside was anywhere near being happy to see you.

Joel still had that look on his face, that something in his eyes you saw a lot but could never read. He didn’t say anything. Ellie looked a bit confused and started saying your name, wanting to say something to you, but Joel told her to keep walking. We shouldn’t delay, he said. It’s not far now. She looked at him, looking frustrated but sad, “Joel,” she began, but he physically turned her around by the shoulders and prodded her to walk ahead, immediately following her. You waited until they had walked quite a bit before following, maintaining quite a distance between them and yourself, not wanting to intrude or get on Joel’s nerves again.

You maintained this distance all the way to the hospital. You stayed away when Joel told Ellie about that incident that almost took place the day after the outbreak, the one Tess told you about, the story she only found out from Tommy, his low voice carrying in the wind. The two seemed to have a private moment together, so you wandered off alone, seeing if there was anything you could scavenge in what was left of the buildings surrounding the hospital. You only came back out once they had started walking again, leaving some space between you and the two of them just in case.

Something had shifted since that private moment. Ellie seemed more herself, and Joel seemed… chirpier? He said something to her and she excitedly took out the stupid pun book she carried around from her pack. They were bantering. Laughing with each other, which somehow made you feel even lonelier than before. You stopped walking, putting even more distance between you and them, wondering what the hell you were doing, interrupting the dynamic duo. They obviously were more comfortable being alone. Shake it out, Elena. Just, make sure she got to where she was supposed to go safely and then you could leave.

An explosion startled you. You hid behind one of the walls of the buildings there and watched as several men carried Ellie and Joel into the building. No one was looking around for you. They obviously didn’t notice you were there.

You waited until they were gone before following them inside, watching out for guards. There didn’t seem to be that many of them, the few they had sparsely spread out all over the big building. You stayed hidden until you found Joel, or more specifically, where he was placed. He was unconscious, but his door was heavily guarded, well – as heavily as it could be, their number being so small.

You heard the woman said what she said to Joel. Your heart went cold. You needed to find her. Let her know. You snuck away as soon as you could, following the signage to the surgical floor, avoiding the guards. You didn’t want to alert anyone.

You found her just as they were starting to prep her for the surgery. She was still awake. There were no guards on the floor, just the doctor and two nurses.

You snuck up to where she was, lying on a gurney, her eyes surveying her surroundings. When the doctor spotted you, you pointed your gun at him.

“Elena, what are you doing?”

“Ellie, get up. They’re gonna kill you. They are going to cut your brain out, Ellie. You’re not going to survive this surgery. They lied.”

Ellie looked at the surgeon. Even with his surgical mask on, he couldn’t hide his guilt.

“Is that true?” she asked him point blank.

“We need to test your brain, Ellie. It’s the only way. We need this chance.”

Ellie was quiet for what felt like hours.

“Ellie,” the doctor said, going to her. Your gun followed him. “No cure was found without collateral damage. Your death could mean the end of the outbreak. A cure. Your sacrifice would mean something.”

“Ellie, don’t listen to him,” you told her, “Look, you wanted to know what the world was like before? It was amazing. The technology was groundbreaking. New drugs were created every day. New medications, new cures, new vaccines, but you know what they never found? A vaccine for fungus. Even with all the advancement back then, they couldn’t do it. Heck, they couldn't even vaccinate anyone from freakin' yeast infections! They could not do it then, they cannot do it now. Please Ellie.”

“Well, that was then, but it’s twenty years later,” the doctor said.

“Twenty years where the world has gone to shit. We don’t even have electricity or running water anymore, so shut that down, doctor. We have gone back a hundred years technology-wise and you know it. You do not have the expertise, nor the equipment to find this cure!” you snarled.

“Elena, if there was a chance,” Ellie started, but you were having none of it.

“What chance? You will die for nothing, Ellie! All of this, everything would have been for nothing!”

The sounds of gunshots echoed through the corridor. The doctor and the nurses began to move towards the door. You immediately backed towards it, your guns pointing at them in turn. Take one step, and you will shoot, you warned.

“Elena,” Ellie said, “Even if I die, my death will mean something. We have to let them try.”

“Try what? Have you seen this place? You really think they could come up with a cure in a place where the lights come from a generator? Honey, they don’t even have clean water to wash their hands with, let alone produce a cure for thousands of people!”

“Elena, please.”

“No Ellie, your life means something. To me, to Joel. I’m willing to bet you anything that is him we hear, trying to get to you, to rescue you. You mean the world to him, to me. Ellie, don’t you get that? Please, Ellie, hear me. Please!”

The shooting got closer and closer. Now accompanied by men screaming. You looked behind you for a second, and you heard Ellie call your name. You turned to see one of the nurses injecting something in the cannula in her arm, Ellie immediately weakened, her eyes struggling to stay open, still looking at you pleadingly.

The doctor rushed to her side, taking a scalpel from the tray and made to cut her. You raised your gun and shot him in the knee, turning the gun to the nurses, daring them to move. Both immediately retreated, arms up in surrender. The doctor, now crumpled up on the floor, was begging you to spare them. You waited until Joel came in, a gun in his hand, immediately checking Ellie.

The doctor held out the scalpel at him, telling him he wasn’t going to let him take her, and Joel raised his gun to his head. You pulled him away, telling him enough people had died. He whisper shouted at you that they could come after her, but you turned around and shot the doctor in his other knee and proceeded to do the same to the two nurses, telling them as they were sobbing on the floor that you would finish the job if they ever, ever come looking for her.

Joel picked an unconscious Ellie up and carried her out, and you followed, giving the three immobilized people a final warning glare before you did.

You managed to get to the car park when the woman from before reappeared, a gun pointed at Joel, asking him to leave Ellie there. You took her from Joel, the woman warning you not to do it, but you walked off with her anyway, hearing a gunshot behind you. You beelined for the minivan that was charging, and placed Ellie in the back seat. You went to disconnect the battery from charging and started the car.

That’s when you heard the second gunshot.

You drove out as soon as Joel was in the passenger seat, heading for Jackson. Neither of you spoke, Joel glancing at you every now and again. You stopped twice for gas before he took over, still not talking to you. You checked on Ellie during those stops, making sure her breathing was regular, that she didn’t have a fever. Just after the third refuel, Joel broke the silence.

“It’s okay, Joel. I told you, I’m not going to hold it against you.”

“Listen, about me leaving you…”

A big part of you wanted to hear it. But what could he say, really? He did what he did. He left you. Didn't come back for you. What could he possibly say that could ever make you feel less rejected?

“It’s just that…”

“Really, Joel, you don’t have to explain. I get it. Right now I’m more worried about Ellie waking up, okay? Let’s get through that first?”

Ellie stirred then, rendering your conversation shut. She slowly got up, looking around, blearily reminding herself where she was. Joel told her she was okay, she was with the two of you. She glared at you in the mirror, asking you if you killed the doctor and nurses.

“No, she didn’t,” Joel told her. “Ellie, they were going to kill you.”

She glared at him instead, lying back down and turning the other way. You found her some clothes somewhere along the way, which she took and put on while scowling at you. She spent the rest of the journey shouting profanities and you and Joel for taking what she was destined to do away from her, yelling how everything she had gone through these past few months now meant nothing. Nothing came out of Riley’s death, Tess’s death, Joel being stabbed, that thing with David, what she did to get away from David, all of it, there was no point to all of it now, because the two of you decided to be selfish and take the reason she was alive away from her.

Despite not knowing anything about this David, or who Riley was and what happened to her, you tried to reason with her, and she kept screaming at you. Nothing you said, nothing Joel said could calm her.

At that point, you knew going to Jackson with them would be a bad idea. You could live with Joel ignoring you, but Ellie? You had grown to care about her. She might as well be your kid. But the way she was screaming at you, accusing you of putting your own needs before her, it got to you.

So when the car finally died, you took your pack and started walking away from them.

“Where are you going?” Joel asked, eyes away from yours. Ellie was staring at you from where she was standing, a small distance from the car, a panicked look on her face.

“I’m gonna head back to Boston,” you told him. “I promised I would get Ellie to the hospital, and I did that, so now, as I promised you back there, I’m leaving.”

“You promised me you’d never leave me,” Ellie said.

You didn’t know what to say to that.

“You don’t have to leave,” Joel said, his voice gentler than you’ve ever heard him speak. “At least, come with us to Jackson, rest, get some supplies before you go.”

You kept your eyes on Ellie. She was looking at you with pleading eyes, Joel still looking at your feet rather than your eyes.

He had a point, though. You were almost out of ammo, you didn’t have any food, your entire body hurt. Going back to Jackson to resupply didn’t sound like such a bad idea.

So you walked towards them, walking ahead of Ellie, who had taken to ignoring you again now that you were no longer leaving immediately. To be fair, she was ignoring Joel too. The three of you walked for hours without incident all the way to Jackson, Tommy greeting you at the gate, taking you to the dining hall for a meal before sending you back to the house you had stayed at.

Ellie walked next to you, telling you how disappointed she was in you – you took away her purpose for living, and now you wanted to leave her. Why insist on saving her if you were just going to leave her? Talk to her, Joel, she said. Joel didn’t say anything. Tommy cleared his throat, finally deciding to say something after all the uncomfortable and loaded silence he had witnessed and suffered through since the moment you walked through the gate.

“Look, there is no reason for you to leave, Elena. We could use you here. Stay. Maria likes you. Ellie needs you. Joel…”

Whatever he was going to say was shut down by a glare from the man.

“There’s nothing for you in Boston, Elena. Stay. Whatever the problem is, we can figure it out. I’m sure we can,” Tommy continued after gathering his thoughts away from his big brother’s stare.

He left the three of you in what was supposed to be your new home. But with the way Ellie went stomping away to her new room and Joel going into his without so much as a word to you, you fell asleep not knowing what to do.

**********

The next week was spent getting the place liveable. You and Ellie cleaned, and Joel fixed everything that needed fixing. Ellie still didn’t speak to you, save for when she needed answers or instructions on what to do to clean something. Joel had continued treating you as if you were a mere presence that he could feel and hear, but couldn’t exactly see, eyes away from you even if speaking directly to you.

You all had your meals at the hall, sitting together despite not talking to each other. Joel spent the time talking to Tommy, learning more about the place and finding out how he could contribute. You talked to Maria, spending your evenings going around with her to see how you could contribute if you were to stay.

The more time you spent in Jackson, the more you wanted to stay. But staying in this arrangement where none of you were speaking to each other was starting to get to you. It was fine on the road, but to live with this permanently?

Maria tried to reason with you, telling you that once the three of you settled down, things would get better. Ellie was just an angry teenager. She would calm down soon. And Joel was just a grumpy ass man, he would settle down soon, and he would be a lot less grumpy, she said, relating to you what she had learnt about her brother-in-law from Tommy. She told you she could use your help in the greenhouse, seeing as you grew your own vegetables when you were with Bill and Frank.

You had to admit, you felt a very strong urge to stay. The only hurdle for you was living in a house with two people who seemed to hate you. But you decided to give it a try. Maybe Maria was right. Time would tell.

One month. You would give it one month. If things improve, you will stay.

---

Part 4

[scottish-canary]

I haven't watched Limited Life in a minute so forgive me for any mistakes! Mean gills one shot —--------------------------------------------------- Scott sat on the roof of their house, looking towards the border through the bamboo. He closed his eyes for a moment. 11 hours. Martyn was on red. And ever since he changed his skin, it made Scott…Nervous. 

After someone won the ‘game’, they would remember the other games. Scott had experienced that, he knew. Plus, every season when G would meet, he wasn’t entirely like… Factory reset, or something. He could tell he could remember. Same thing with Pearl.

So how did Martyn make the Dogwarts flag? That should be impossible to remember, right? Ren wasn’t even in Limited Life, for one, and it should just… Be impossible regardless. Does Martyn even… remember Ren?

He sighed. It just made him.. Uneasy, considering the events of 3rd life. Jimmy burning the flag, Scott and Martyn were practically at eachothers throats because of Scott and Jimmy’s alliance with the Desert folk.

So why can’t Scott get away from him?

Even in Double Life they had issues, not as bad as Pearl, but since Scott was Cleo’s “soulmate”, they both had trouble with him. But…Scott just can’t hate him this time. He can see Martyn in the light clearly now, how brave he is, despite his recklessness, but..

Sometimes he would compare Martyn to Jimmy. Maybe…Just maybe, they could be like that. Martyn shouldn’t be able to know what happened, so.. They could start over. He didn’t know why this season they just got on so well, but Scott was happy.

…Despite every glance at the blood red banner being memories of pain.

Scott lifted his head, hearing footsteps on the creaking floorboards. He looked over his shoulder to see Martyn had come back from whatever he was doing. Scott smiled, trying to forget his previous thoughts. He and Grian had agreed to not let out what happens with the winners, and the previous games. Pearl had agreed as well. He couldn’t tell him, so he just had to forget.

“Hey, sand dweller.” Scott snickered

Martyn swiped the sand off his vest, snorting. “Hey, I'm being useful! What are you doing?”

“Very useful thinking!”

“Oh, bullshit.” He laughed and climbed up next to Scott. He looked on to the border, zoning out a bit. Martyn noticed, tilting his head. “What useful thinking are you doing exactly?”

Scott paused, and answered with another question; “What’s that banner?” He pointed to the Dogwarts banner around his waist.

“Oh, this? Mm.. It just felt right. The red matches with my color after all, maybe like.. The blood of my enemies.” He snickered, but Scott kept himself from wincing at the “joke”.

“What about the teeth?”

“The teeth?”

Scott sweated. He thought it was obvious the white part was teeth! “The uhm, white part. It just looks like teeth to me.”

Martyn lifted it up and looked at it. “Huh. Guess you’re right! I don’t know, like I said, it just felt right, y’know?”

“...Yeah.”

Scott leaned against his shoulder, his head fitting into the space between the coral placed like armour. He couldn’t imagine them becoming something like Ren and him did with Dogwarts. He’s certainly not going to cut off my head. He kept in a shudder.

Martyn looked over at him, blinking. “You alright?”

“Yeah.”

“I didn’t think the banner was that bad.” He chuckled lightly as to brighten the mood, but Scott stayed still, with a light exhale.

Martyn leaned his head against Scott’s, giving up on words and just sitting there together, looking at the vast ocean beyond the border.

[oharaslove]

We’ve always seen Grumpy x Sunshine when it comes to Miguel and Reader. Today I present you with Grumpy x Grumpy

Reader who never showed a smile towards anyone in the Society. 

Miguel who notices them in the group meetings. Every Spider has a sense of humour, they smile through the pain, but you didn’t. You were always with a serious expression. You were integrated, at the same time though, you seemed closed off. Not letting anyone come close. 

Miguel who takes interest. There is only one place for a Grumpy person in this lab, and that’s him. Or at least, most people say he is grumpy, not that he believes it 100%. 

Reader who enjoys spending time by herself, recluding to the rooftop of the Society. A place that, weirdly enough, no one frequents. 

Miguel who looks for Reader in the common spaces, but doesn’t have luck. He didn’t exactly know what he wanted with you, but there was something pulling him towards your person. Did he want to be friends? Was he just curious? No idea.

Miguel who has to admit to Lyla what he is doing, having to accept her teases. “Oooohhh Miguel has got a crush” At which Miguel rolls his eyes. He doesn’t. He doesn’t even know you! How could he have a crush? he definitely has. If it were any other Spider, he would probably not care, but you. You had something. 

Lyla who, after an uncountable amount of mocking, takes pity on Miguel and reveals your location. Miguel who sees you through the security camera, sitting at the edge, dangling your feet. 

Miguel who marches towards your location. No plan in his head. He was just going with the flow. His body guiding him towards what it wanted. You

Reader who is startled by the sudden sound of someone opening the door to the rooftop. Who the hell comes here?. You turned around, spotting Miguel silently watching you from the doorway. You turn around again, rolling your eyes. Whatever. 

Miguel who approaches you. What the hell has he come here for? It’s been a looong minute since he has spoken to a woman, other than work stuff.

Miguel who just stands there, looking off at the distance, while keeping an eye on you from time to time. He was just testing the water, yeah. 

Reader who finds it weird, but let’s it happen. Miguel is the leader of the society after all. Besides, you knew (or at least heard) that he was “grumpy”. Problem, you didn’t know if he really was, or like you, he was misunderstood by everyone. In doubt, better keep quiet. 

Miguel who after a while, decides to go. That was embarrassing enough. But don’t get confused, he would come back, he just needed a plan. 

Miguel who, the first week, just stands there, getting comfortable with your presence, hoping you do too. Until….

“You know you can sit, right?” “Uh… I-” He stutters, not expecting you to talk. You scooch over, even though there is plenty of space. Miguel sits, rather close. He enjoys the view now, but most importantly, the heat emanating from your body. He sighs, step 1 down. 

Days turned into weeks. Now, you two were comfortable. Not yet talking much, but sitting next to each other, enjoying each other’s company while enjoying the skyline. Miguel hadn’t realised how much he needed this, relax. After a day being cooped up in the lab, this was a nice change. You would share food with each other, a lovely and quiet picnic between two friends? A boss and a worker? Co-workers? He had no clue, but whatever it was, he liked it. 

But… he wanted more. He felt the need to know you better. So.. that’s how the conversations started. About whatever, whoever… didn’t matter. What matter was that step 2 was down. 

Step 3 was by far the hardest one. Make you laugh. At least a small giggle or a smile, Miguel would be happy with either one. 

Granted, Miguel wasn’t good with jokes either. He didn’t know how the other Spiders did it. But thankfully, as a man of science, he knew how to achieve a goal. 

Miguel who spends quite some time observing the other Spiders. He never had a reason to, but now, he did. He thought that you would like it if he was funny, like the others. Yeah, surely, why wouldn’t you?

Miguel who writes some jokes and practises how to deliver them, over and over again. Lyla was having a blast. The big, “bad”, “grumpy” leader of the Spider Society, creator of Nueva York, was mad about another person. 

Miguel, nervous af, goes to your spot. After meeting for quite some time, you two develop a routine. Always at the same hour, same place. 

Reader who is already there, waiting. You really enjoyed meeting with Miguel, you felt he was the only one who understood you. 

Miguel who slowly approaches you. He could feel sweat dribble from his temple, down to his neck. 

Miguel checks the paper on his hand. Yeah, these jokes would do. 

Miguel who, after a peaceful chit chat, feels comfortable enough to start trying with the jokes. They were awful, to say the least. 

“How would you describe Spiderman’s perfect home? The world wide web!”

Miguel who after every stupid joke watches your reaction. At first, you are confused, but as jokes go by, he can see you trying hard not to smile. 

“What is–” “What are you doing?” you said, your lips tugging up into a smile. you were so adorable. “What do you mean?” “The jokes” you clarify, your smile widening. “I– I was trying to be funny, like the other Spidermen. People seem to like them. I–” “Don’t” you interrupt, your tone and expression serious. 

Miguel wanted to be swallowed by the Earth. He scrunches the paper and fists it. This was all a waste— “I like you just the way you are” You confess, making Miguel snap his head towards you, eyes wide like plates. 

“You– you do?” He must have misheard you. “Mhh” you mumbled, nodding. “Just,” you bite your lip, debating if you should say it or not. “Just be my Miguel. The one you’ve always been” And you smile as bright as the sun, warming Miguel’s hug. 

“Your Miguel” he repeats in a trance. You nod, biting your lip, trying to suppress the smile that had been printed on your face. Nothing could wipe it now. 

Miguel mirrors you, smiling from ear to ear. He looks at his clenched fist, the paper sticking out. He looks at you and laughs, throwing the paper into the city. “I’ll be your Miguel then” He scooches closer to you, giving you the opportunity to lean on his chest, as he rounds your body with his arm. 

“Yeah, my Miguel” you sighed, closing your eyes and melting into his touch. His warm body and heartbeat lulling you to sleep. 

Miguel who kisses the top of your head, before resting his cheek against it. He sighs, step 3 and goal down. 

To the world, you were two Grumpy people. But between you, days were spent between laughs and giggles. Kisses being interrupted by smiles. Just seeing each other made you happy. Life was warm, yellow and red, all together. It didn’t matter how the rest saw you, just that you two were happy and in love. 

[sofa-king-lame]

“I’ll kick his ass if you want me to.” - Buddie

I very slightly tweaked the quote but it’s essentially the same.

Inspired by the ‘Company Picnic’ episode of The Office

—

Despite having been at the 118 for around eight years, the 2025 LAFD Annual Family Picnic was the first one Buck at ever attended. As a probie he had to stay behind with C-shift and got stuck with the weirdest calls of his career (a woman who tried to swallow her snake before it swallowed her first is a mental image he’s never quite been able to shake). Second year he was in a full-leg cast, and third year he hadn’t quite been able to bring himself to face any of the higher-ups after the lawsuit. Fourth year was right after Eddie got shot and he didn’t feel much like celebrating, and fifth year the picnic happened while Eddie was working at dispatch and Buck volunteered to work so he didn’t have to face the picnic without him. He was in a coma in his sixth year, and Tommy had been a bit weird about them going together so Tommy they decided not to go.

This year Buck is determined to go and enjoy himself. Who is he to turn down a free banquet that includes Bobby’s mac and cheese, Hen’s cheesecake bites, the utterly phenomenal mandu that Park from the 134 makes, and the LAFD famous turkey smash burgers? Oh, there’s also the added bonus of the fact that he’s with Eddie now and gets to walk into the picnic hand-in-hand with the hottest fucking guy on the west coast (on any coast, really).

Buck’s in line for burgers when he spots Tommy lounging on a picnic blanket with a guy Buck vaguely recognises from Harbour Station (Matthews? Marks?). Eddie must have seen him as well, because within seconds he’s by Buck’s side and sliding a hand into one of the back pockets of his jeans.

“Missed you,” Eddie murmurs into Buck’s ear, making him shiver despite the blazing midday LA sun.

“I’ve been gone less than five minutes,” Buck laughs, leaning into Eddie and slipping an arm around his waist. He’ll probably never get over the thrill of getting to touch Eddie like this, getting to show him off to everyone they work with.

“You should be away from me for zero minutes,” Eddie grumbles before casually kissing his cheek and temple. Buck hums contentedly and closes his eyes, allowing Eddie to guide him forward as the line moves.

“You know, I honestly would have thought it would be at least another year before the two of you got together,” comes a snort from somewhere to Buck’s left. He unfortunately immediately recognises the teasing tone - Tommy often used it when Buck tried to share whatever interesting fact he’d just read or heard about.

“Why’s that?” Buck sighs, not even opening his eyes. He’s not exactly surprised that Tommy suspected they’d end up together - Buck had immediately thought of Eddie when Tommy said he wasn’t Buck’s last.

“Eddie was way too repressed when you and I were dating. Would have figured at least another six months of therapy and then six months of freaking out,” Tommy laughs. Buck’s eyes snap open now and Eddie must feel him tense up because his hand leaves Buck’s back pocket and comes up to rest between his shoulder blades, gently applying pressure to where Buck carries his stress.

“Walk away, Kinard,” Eddie tells him through gritted teeth. Tommy snorts again and walks off shaking his head, re-joining…Michaels? Merls? Who-the-fuck-ever, on the picnic rug.

“Want me to kick his ass for you?” Buck asks in a low voice.

“I shouldn’t have to ask you to do things like that,” Eddie sighs. “You should just do it.”

“Okay,” Buck murmurs, kissing Eddie firmly. “Let’s eat first and then if I can still move after eating my body weight in mandu I’ll kick his ass.”

“Sounds good,” Eddie grins.

Buck doesn’t end up kicking Tommy’s ass. He gets too busy staring at Eddie’s when a game of volleyball kicks off, and “accidentally” grabbing it instead of the ball. Eddie doesn’t complain though, instead tackles Buck to the ground and kisses him right there, on the floor, in front of the Chief. They’re definitely coming back next year. If they’re not uninvited for public indecency first.

[writingsoftarnishedsilver]

Playing for Keeps | Sebastian Sallow x Reader

Chapter 7

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Words: ~4,200

Tags: Modern AU, Reader Insert, Female MC, No Y/N, Enemies to Lovers, Angst, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Romance, Hurt/No Comfort, Drama

Sebastian scrolled through his phone, the pale glow illuminating his face in the dim light of the Slytherin common room. He sat slouched in his favorite armchair, headphones in, blocking out the faint hum of conversation from the other students scattered around. He didn't have the bandwidth to hear what they were saying—he had enough noise to deal with on Wandsworth.

The school’s dedicated social app was buzzing. Post after post dissected the scene at Garreth’s party, each one worse than the last. His jaw tightened as he skimmed the endless stream of comments.

“Absolutely disgusting. Treating someone like a bet? They should both be expelled.” “Poor Chouette. She didn’t deserve that.” “Honestly, what did she expect? She’s not exactly the kind of girl someone like Sallow would go for.” “Can’t believe she thought she had a chance with Sallow OR Prewett. Beauxbatons rejects don’t belong here anyway.”

Sebastian rubbed a hand over his face, dragging it down slowly as he forced himself to stop reading. The words on the page blurred together, their weight sinking into his chest like a stone. This wasn’t supposed to happen. None of this was supposed to happen.

The bet had been stupid. Reckless. Immature. A moment of poor judgment, driven by pride and insecurity; a way to save face, a knee-jerk reaction to Leander’s smirking challenge. It had been about proving something then, about not letting someone like Leander Prewett have the upper hand.

But it had spiraled so far beyond that now.

Sebastian had planned to call the whole thing off last night at the party. He’d seen the way Leander was angling toward you these past weeks, his intentions clear in every lingering look and easy laugh, and Sebastian had told himself enough was enough. He knew Leander was going to make his move, and Sebastian intended to stop it, to shut the whole thing down before it got out of hand.

But it was too late.

He clenched his jaw, the memory burning in his mind. Leander, smug as ever, had standing with you by the fire, talking with that performative charm he always wore like a badge of honor. You’d been laughing—actual laughter, soft and unguarded in a way that made something twist uncomfortably in Sebastian’s chest. He hadn’t even realized he was staring until Leander leaned closer and kissed you.

The image played on a loop in Sebastian’s mind, gnawing at his thoughts and stirring a mix of anger, guilt, and jealousy he couldn’t suppress. And the sight of Leander leading you toward the bathroom, his hand on the small of your back, had lit a fire in Sebastian’s chest that refused to die.

The noise of the party faded as he stormed after you both, his steps quick and purposeful, anger and guilt fueling each stride. He wasn’t thinking—he couldn’t think, not when every nerve in his body screamed at him to stop whatever was about to happen. His fists clenched at his sides, his jaw tight enough to ache as he pushed through the dimly lit hallway.

When he caught up to Leander, you were already inside, the bathroom door closing softly behind you. Leander leaned casually against the wall, his smugness radiating off him like a beacon. He looked too pleased with himself, his confidence grating on Sebastian’s already frayed nerves.

“The wager's off,” Sebastian said, his voice low but seething with barely contained fury.

Leander raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. “What’s your problem, Sallow? Jealous?”

Sebastian’s fists twitched at his sides. “This isn’t a joke, Prewett. You’ve had your fun. It’s over.”

“She’s already half in my pocket,” Leander had said. “That kiss sealed the deal. I've got this in the bag.”

Unfortunately for both of them, neither noticed the nosy fifth-year lingering nearby, their phone raised discreetly. By the time Sebastian turned to leave, his head spinning with frustration and guilt, the damage had already been done.

A single tap of the screen was all it took. The recording, raw and damning, was sent into the hands of the entire school within minutes. The chaos spread like wildfire, the whispers turning into shouts as screens lit up with the heated exchange.

Sebastian hadn’t grasped the full extent of the fallout until this morning. When he woke, his phone was flooded with hundreds of notifications—tags, comments, DMs, and the inescapable reality that everything had spiraled completely out of control. And the damage wasn’t just confined to the walls of Wandsworth.

The group chat was chaos, messages piling in faster than he could read. But one notification had stood out, glaring at him from the screen like a punch to the gut:

“Chouette left the group.”

Sebastian had stared at those four words far longer than he wanted to admit, guilt twisting in his stomach like a blade. He could almost hear the deafening silence left in your wake, the absence of your name among the chat participants louder than anything the others could say.

He didn’t know what was worse—the fact that you’d left without a word, or the fact that he couldn’t blame you.

And this morning, even more messages had come in, fast and furious, each sentence sharp enough to cut.

Imelda: I still can't believe you two. A bet? Are you actually that pathetic? She deserves so much better than this. Imelda: And Sallow, I hope you're ready to run laps at practice tomorrow you prick Poppy: What were you guys thinking? I can’t believe you’d do something so shitty. Leander, don't come to summoner's court practice. Cressida: Disgusting, honestly. Natty: I thought you two were better than this. Clearly, I was wrong. Adelaide: Imagine implying that someone is only worth 50 galleons?

Sebastian sighed heavily, the sound muffled through his headphones as he leaned back in his chair. The ache in his chest wasn’t unfamiliar—it had been gnawing at him since you verbally dismantled him at the party—but now it felt like it had spread, weighing down every part of him. He didn’t want to get up. He didn’t want to face the day, the stares, or the whispers. But skipping breakfast wasn’t an option. If he didn’t eat something before class, he’d spend the morning distracted by hunger on top of everything else.

Dragging himself out of the chair, he grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder. His headphones stayed firmly in place, the music turned up just loud enough to drown out the murmur of voices around the common room. He didn’t want to hear them. He didn’t need to. The looks were bad enough.

By the time Sebastian reached the Great Hall, the tension in his chest had coiled into a knot so tight it was difficult to breathe. He paused at the entrance, his gaze sweeping the bustling room. Students were chattering, laughing, and leaning over their plates, the usual hum of morning activity filling the air. But as soon as he stepped inside, the energy shifted.

Conversations faltered. Heads turned. It wasn’t immediate, but a ripple spread through the room, quieting the usual din as more and more eyes landed on him. The weight of their stares was suffocating, and for a fleeting moment, he considered turning around and leaving.

Instead, he forced himself forward, his shoulders squared as he made his way toward the Slytherin table. Imelda, Ominis, Nerida, Grace, and Violet were clustered together, their heads bent in quiet conversation. As he approached, they looked up one by one, their expressions hardening with a mix of cold disapproval and pointed disdain.

Sebastian slowed to a stop, meeting Ominis’s gaze for a brief, excruciating moment. His friend didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to. The message was clear: Don’t sit here.

For a heartbeat, Sebastian considered trying anyway—saying something to break the tension. But the weight of their collective silence crushed the thought. With a sharp exhale, he adjusted his bag on his shoulder and moved past them, heading for the far end of the table where no one else was sitting.

Sliding into the seat, he kept his eyes down and reached for a slice of toast, forcing himself to take a bite. It tasted like nothing, dry and flavorless in his mouth. Glancing around the room, he noticed Leander sitting alone at the Gryffindor table, as well. His usual entourage had abandoned him, and he looked utterly miserable.

For a fleeting moment, Sebastian felt a grim sense of satisfaction. Serves him right. Leander deserved to feel the full brunt of this mess, deserved every ounce of guilt and isolation that came with it. After all, he’d been the one to start the bet, the one who’d pushed it too far.

But the feeling didn’t last.

Because no matter how much Leander deserved this, as much as Sebastian did, it didn’t undo the damage.

And the worst part was that Sebastian knew. He knew he’d set this all in motion. If he’d just said no to Leander—if he’d kept his mouth shut, if he’d done literally anything else—you wouldn’t be bearing the brunt of the fallout. But he hadn’t.

Across the hall, the sound of laughter broke through his thoughts, sharp and grating against his ears. He glanced up, spotting the sixth-year cheerleading captain at the Ravenclaw table, her head thrown back in exaggerated amusement. As if sensing his gaze, she turned and locked eyes with him, a slow smile curling across her lips.

Sebastian’s stomach churned. He quickly looked away, shoving the rest of the toast into his mouth and swallowing hard. But it was too late. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her approaching.

“Morning, Sebastian,” Amelia Rosier greeted, her voice light and sweet, with a practiced undertone of flirtation. She stopped beside his seat, placing a perfectly manicured hand on the table as she leaned slightly toward him.

Sebastian didn’t immediately respond, keeping his headphones in as though he hadn’t heard her. Maybe if he ignored her, she’d move on.

But she didn’t. Instead, she reached out and tapped his shoulder lightly. “Sebastian?” she repeated, louder this time, her tone teetering between playful and insistent.

Sighing, Sebastian pulled one earbud out and glanced up, his expression carefully neutral. “What?”

Amelia tilted her head, her platinum hair catching the morning sunlight streaming through the enchanted ceiling. “Oh, don’t be like that,” she said with a soft laugh, sliding into the empty seat beside him uninvited. “I thought you could use some company. It’s looking a little lonely over here.”

“I’m fine,” Sebastian replied flatly, already regretting giving her any attention.

She didn’t seem to notice—or care—about his tone. Instead, she smiled brightly, her blue eyes gleaming with self-satisfaction. “I just wanted to say, I’m so glad all those ridiculous rumors about you and her are finally cleared up. It’s such a relief to know you’ve got better taste than that.”

Sebastian stiffened, his grip tightening on the edge of the table. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, his voice sharper than he intended.

Amelia blinked, feigning surprise. “Oh, I didn’t mean anything by it,” she said, her tone dripping with faux innocence. “She’s fine, I suppose. But let’s be honest—she’s not exactly your type, is she?”

The knot in Sebastian’s stomach twisted painfully, a tight, unforgiving grip that made it impossible to breathe properly. He opened his mouth to respond, to say something—anything—but no words came. Instead, he just stared at her, the weight of his own guilt and shame pressing down on him like a physical force.

Amelia misread his silence as agreement, her smile widening. She leaned in closer, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “I mean, people were saying such absurd things. Like you’d ever go for someone like her.” She gave a soft, dismissive laugh, brushing a strand of auburn hair behind her ear. “But I get it now—you were just being polite. You’re too nice for your own good sometimes.”

Sebastian’s stomach sank deeper with every word Amelia said. Her voice, syrupy and smug, grated against his ears. He clenched his jaw, trying to suppress the growing urge to snap at her. Once, not so long ago, he might’ve taken solace in her words. He might’ve let her assumption bolster his carefully constructed reputation—the one that had always made him feel untouchable, even if it meant pretending to be someone he wasn’t.

But now? Now, it just made him feel sick.

Amelia kept talking, oblivious to the storm brewing inside him. “Honestly, I think it’s kind of sweet that you were so patient with her. You probably didn’t want to hurt her feelings, right? That’s what makes you different from guys like Prewett. You actually care about people.”

The irony of her words was too much.

“I’m not too nice,” he said, his voice cold and clipped. “And I don’t need your commentary.”

Amelia blinked, momentarily caught off guard by his sharp tone. Her smile faltered for a split second, but she quickly recovered, her polished demeanor snapping back into place like a well-practiced spell.

“Oh, I get it,” she said with a soft laugh, waving a perfectly manicured hand dismissively. “You’ve been under so much stress with all this drama, haven’t you? It’s only natural to feel a little overwhelmed. Honestly, I think you’re handling it much better than most people would.”

Sebastian bit back a scoff, the muscles in his jaw flexing as he forced himself to remain silent. He didn’t trust himself to respond, not without letting the bubbling anger and shame in his chest spill over.

Amelia leaned closer, her voice dropping just enough to make the conversation feel intimate—though it was anything but. “Anyway, don’t let it get to you. You know how people are—always looking for something to gossip about. But things will blow over soon. They always do.”

She straightened, her hair catching the light again as she smoothed down her uniform, her tone shifting to something lighter, more playful. “And hey, I’ll see you this weekend at the Quidditch match, right? I’ll be in the front row, cheering for Slytherin.” She winked, adding with a coy smile, “Especially for you.”

Sebastian didn’t look up, keeping his gaze fixed on the table. He gave a noncommittal grunt, hoping it would be enough to end the conversation.

Amelia, seemingly satisfied, stood and adjusted the strap of her bag over her shoulder. “Don’t be such a stranger, Sebastian,” she said breezily, flashing him one last dazzling smile before turning on her heel and walking away.

The moment she was gone, Sebastian let out a long breath, leaning back in his chair.

The words Amelia had said kept replaying in his mind, echoing alongside the cruel comments he’d seen on Wandsworth. You were just being polite. You’re too nice for your own good sometimes. As if that was all it had been. As if you were some sort of pity project for him, when the truth was so much messier and infinitely more complicated.

Sebastian rubbed a hand over his face, trying to push the thoughts away, but they stuck like thorns. With a sigh, he grabbed his bag and stood, slinging it over his shoulder as he left the Great Hall. The stares and whispers followed him all the way to the door, but he didn’t look back.

He had class to get to, even if the day stretched out before him like a gauntlet.

In Defense Against the Dark Arts, he kept his gaze down, fiddling with his quill as he waited for class to begin. The room buzzed with low chatter, punctuated by the occasional laugh or hushed whisper, but all of it felt distant, as though he were trapped in a bubble of his own making.

And then you walked in.

Imelda was right at your side, her steps purposeful and sharp, her head held high as though daring anyone to say something. Her usual smirk was replaced with a hard, cutting edge, her eyes scanning the room like a predator on the hunt for prey.

You, on the other hand, looked as though you hadn’t slept in days. Your eyes were red and puffy, your shoulders hunched slightly as though you were trying to make yourself smaller. The sight made something twist painfully in Sebastian’s chest.

You didn’t glance in his direction as you sat down, Imelda immediately taking the seat beside you. She shot him a glare that could’ve rivaled the Killing Curse, and he quickly averted his eyes, swallowing the lump in his throat.

Leander entered a moment later, looking no better than Sebastian felt. His usually smug expression was replaced with one of quiet misery, dark circles under his eyes making his already pale complexion look even worse. He glanced briefly at you before taking his seat across the room, his head down and his shoulders slumped.

Sebastian barely registered Professor Hecat’s entrance or the beginning of the lesson. Every word went in one ear and out the other, the weight of everything pulling his attention away. He kept glancing over at you, unable to stop himself. Each time, he caught the way you stared blankly at your notes, barely scribbling anything down. Imelda, for all her sharp-edged confidence, kept casting worried glances in your direction, her lips pressed into a thin line.

The rest of the day was the same. Each class dragged on, the tension in the air thick enough to choke on. Everywhere you went, Imelda was there, sticking close to you like a guard dog. She sat beside you, walked with you in the halls, and even lingered outside the classroom doors during breaks, her gaze daring anyone to step out of line.

The walk to the common room after classes felt longer than usual, the dimly lit corridors stretching endlessly in front of him. Sebastian's footsteps echoed against the stone, the only sound breaking the silence. By the time he got inside, the murmur of Slytherins gathered near the fireplace only served to deepen the knot of tension in his chest. He avoided their gazes, making a beeline for the stairs.

When he reached his dorm, he dropped his bag unceremoniously onto the floor and collapsed onto his bed with a groan. Dinner could wait—or, rather, he could skip it entirely. The thought of sitting alone at the table, surrounded by people who didn’t even try to hide their disdain, was too much to stomach. Instead, he rummaged through his nightstand and pulled out a small stash of Honeydukes sweets.

For hours, he leaned back against the headboard, eating candies as the glow of his phone illuminated his face in the dark. His thumb moved almost mechanically as he scrolled through the endless posts on Wandsworth. The app was still a raging dumpster fire, as he’d expected—but he couldn’t stop looking.

“I don’t care what people say—she’s not pretty. At all. I mean, it’s no wonder Sallow wasn’t serious about her.” “If she dropped a few pounds, maybe someone would take her seriously. As it is? Good luck.” “Can’t believe she made the Quidditch team. I’m winded just looking at her. Imelda gave her the spot out of pity.”

Sebastian clenched his jaw, the words gnawing at his insides like a parasite. Every comment, every cruel jab, felt like a grotesque distortion of the truth. These people—people who didn’t even know you—had reduced you to a caricature, as if you were nothing more than a joke for them to dissect and destroy.

And worst of all, he knew he’d started it.

Him and Leander, with their stupid, petty bet. Their idiotic need to one-up each other. It had been so easy to brush off in the moment. Too easy. Because he’d told himself it didn’t matter—that you didn’t matter.

But you did. Merlin, you did.

The memory of that day in the Undercroft hit him like a hex, the sharp echo of Ominis’s voice cutting through the haze of guilt and self-loathing.

Ominis had seen through him, as he always did. He’d stripped away every excuse, every fragile defense Sebastian had thrown up, and left him with nothing but the raw, undeniable truth, even if he denied it at the time.

Sebastian had been watching you. He had been obsessed with you. But he’d let fear dictate his every move—fear of what people would think, fear of the whispers that would follow him down the hallways, fear of the judgment that would come if anyone knew the truth.

And for what? To protect his fragile pride? To avoid the risk of anyone realizing that he was attracted to you? Really, really attracted to you? That Sebastian liked you? That he wanted someone who didn’t fit the mold of what everyone thought he should want?

Someone who was the “right” kind of pretty. The kind of girl that came with a neat little package of approval from the boys in the locker room, from the gossiping girls in the hallways, from the ever-present crowd that always seemed to be watching, judging. He could already hear their whispers, their sly, knowing remarks. “Sallow’s standards must be slipping.” “Didn’t think he’d go for someone like that.”

It had been easier—safer—to fall into line. To flirt with the Amelias of the world, to keep up the illusion that he wasn’t the kind of guy who might want something different. Something more.

But if he were honest with himself—really honest—he’d known. He’d known he liked you from the moment he first saw you in the Great Hall.

The memory was burned into his mind like a brand. The confident tilt of your chin, the delicate line of your nose, the soft curve of your cheeks—all of it had captivated him instantly. Your eyes had caught the light with an unreadable glint, and your lips, plush and slightly parted, had made his heart stutter in ways he couldn’t explain.

A single strand of hair slipping loose to frame your face had him wondering, despite himself, what it might feel like to twirl his finger around it.

He could still see the way your robes draped over your frame, the fabric cinching just enough at your waist to hint at the soft curve beneath before cascading in fluid lines that seemed to move with you. It was maddening, the effortless way you wore them, as if they were tailored specifically to make him lose his composure. And beneath them, he could see the stretch of your crisp white button-up, the fabric pulled taut across your chest, hinting at the faintest sliver of skin where the buttons strained against their confines.

And your scent—Merlin, your scent. It was as vivid in his memory as if you were standing beside him now. Like ripe berries crushed in the heat of summer, balanced with a faint tang of citrus that lingered just long enough to leave him wanting more.

Sebastian groaned, dragging his hands down his face before letting them fall limply to his sides. His gaze flicked up to his phone screen, the glaring numbers seeming to mock him: 2:14 AM. The realization was a heavy weight on his chest—he’d spent hours stewing in his own frustration, scrolling on his phone and replaying every moment of the party like a broken record. And for what? He wasn’t any closer to figuring out what to do.

Shoving his phone into his pocket, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and burying his face in his hands. His fingers tugged at his hair in frustration, his chest tightening as the storm in his mind refused to quiet. Sleep was out of the question—his thoughts wouldn’t allow it. The guilt, the anger, the confusion—it all churned inside him, clawing at him like a living thing.

Finally, he pushed himself upright, the bed creaking softly beneath him. Staying here would only drive him mad. Tossing and turning until sunrise wasn’t an option, not when every fiber of his being screamed for some kind of release, some way to escape his own thoughts.

He reached for a hoodie draped over the back of his chair, pulling it on with a resigned sigh. If he couldn’t sleep, he might as well walk it off. The castle would be quiet at this hour, the corridors deserted and bathed in a soft, eerie glow from the enchanted torches lining the walls. It wasn’t the first time he’d wandered the halls at night—he practically had the art of sneaking around the castle down to a science.

He snatched his headphones off the desk, shoving them into his ears before slipping out of the dorm.

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[oliviaglumac]

Here,there, and everywhere

Pairing : Sam Winchester x fem!reader

Requested : no

Genre : fluff

You never thought you’d find someone like Sam Winchester—someone who could make you feel like the center of the universe, even during the darkest of times. Life with him had always been full of surprises, full of love, full of heart. But there was a part of you that still couldn’t believe that this kind of love was real, that you and Sam could be so intertwined, even with the chaos surrounding you.

You sat next to him in the Impala, your hand resting on the worn leather of the seat, eyes staring out the window as the world blurred by. He was driving, his usual calm expression on his face as he focused on the road, but you could feel the pull between you. It was a constant, an undercurrent that ran so deep it was almost unspoken.

The song on the radio was one of those old classics—“Here, There and Everywhere” by The Beatles. You didn’t realize how fitting it was until the words washed over you, and you turned your head to look at Sam, your gaze softening.

“To lead a better life, I need my love to be here.”

You had always been there for him, and he for you. No matter where you both were, or what you had to face, Sam was always the one person you knew you could rely on. His presence felt like home—like the world made sense when he was near.

“You okay?” Sam’s voice broke through your thoughts, his eyes flicking to you for a second before he turned back to the road.

You smiled, the familiar warmth in your chest growing. “Yeah. Just thinking about how lucky I am.”

Sam chuckled, glancing over at you for a brief moment before his smile softened. “Lucky? I think I’m the lucky one, Y/N.”

You laughed, but there was truth to his words. In this life—filled with demons, monsters, and endless hunts—Sam was the one thing that grounded you. You’d seen him at his worst, and you’d been there with him through every fight, every loss, every moment of uncertainty. And still, you loved him. You loved him like you loved the stars in the sky, the moonlight on quiet nights, the promise that no matter how hard life got, you’d always find each other.

“I need my love to be here, I’ll be the one to love you.”

Those lyrics hit you in a way they never had before. It was exactly how you felt about Sam. You weren’t just there for him out of duty or obligation—you were there because you needed him, just as much as he needed you.

You squeezed his hand, the simple gesture enough to speak volumes. “I don’t know where I’d be without you, Sam.”

His grip tightened around yours, and for a moment, the world outside seemed to disappear. Just the two of you, traveling down the road, hearts beating in sync, knowing that no matter the storm, you’d weather it together.

“I don’t know what I’d do either, Y/N,” Sam said quietly. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. You’re everything to me.”

You turned to face him, your fingers brushing his cheek. The depth of his words hit you, and you knew in that moment—no matter the challenges, no matter where life took you—you were exactly where you needed to be. With him.

“And I will be here, there, and everywhere.”

The promise in those words felt as if it were written just for you. It wasn’t about physical proximity—it was about the connection, the love that transcended distance, time, and the constant battles you faced. Sam would always be there, no matter the circumstances, and you would be there right alongside him.

His gaze softened as you held his eyes, the world outside forgotten. “Always.”

And as you leaned in, your lips meeting his in a quiet, tender kiss, you knew that whatever came next, this was the love you would carry with you—here, there, and everywhere

[cronenabi]

[tojbnuy]

“baby stop im trying to read”

“what do you mean ma im just getting warm”

toji was in fact not just getting warm. his big calloused palms were currently underneath your (his) shirt fondling your tits. it wasn’t uncommon for toji to have his hands on your breasts as you read before bed. He used them like stress relievers. warm and soft and comforting to the touch. you had your kindle in one hand and the other placed on his head gently rubbing at his scalp as he nosed his way into the crevice of your neck.

“fuck baby you smell so good. you always smell so clean and vanillery.”

that made you smile.

“yeah i know i smell great.”

he laughed at that because yes you did always smell great. god he was so comfortable right now. nothing on the planet could top this for him. with your boobs in his palms toji could overcome anything. his touch became a bit heated and you knew this would soon be escalating. but you weren’t going to be the one giving in, if he wanted you he was going to have to ask. carefully his fingers began to pinch at your nipples and he knew he had you right where he wanted you when you began to mewl at his touch.

“what are you reading about that’s got you like this baby? are you cheating on me?”

“how’s it cheating if i’m reading you buffoon? and you know exactly why.”

he couldn’t help but smile at the easy banter that was so common between the two of you.

“want me to do to you whatever you’re reading about?”

and just as toji began to hike up your shirt with the intention of putting his mouth to work you both heard a slight little patter of feet on the hard wood floor. you couldn’t see anything due to the darkness in the room but you were pretty sure someone was here. toji lifted his head up with his hands still holding your chest under your shirt and craned his neck over the edge of the bed when he felt a little finger pat his shoulder.

“daddy i did sick”

“oh megs for fucks sake.”

authors note: i didn’t expect to receive so much love on this lil drabble! thank you so much lovely people