#so I’m gonna turn my back on the ones that turned their back on her!

[luveline]

Hi Jade! (I’ve sent this before so ignore if you aren’t into it) just thinking about a bau!reader (maybe shy!reader??) who’s dating post-prison Spencer but didn’t know him before prison and she sees some footage of season one Spencer (maybe they need to refer to a recording of a previous case?) and she’s just dying at how cute he is 🥹

You’ve barely woken up with your face in a solid shoulder when Spencer’s turning around.

“Don’t,” he says when you whine, slipping a familiar hand over your hip. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

“Too early to make fun of me.” 

“Do you think I’m making fun of you?” 

His talking warms your nose where his head is angled down. Your skin smarts with goosebumps as he trails his hand lightly up your back, down again, the slowest, tumbling touch. You shiver, and Spencer, ever so slightly devious in love, says, “Oh, you’re cold?” with great pity as he pulls you closer. 

You rub your face against his shoulder. “Sorry.” 

“Why?”

“I smell.” 

He hums. “Sort of. Not like sweat, though. You smell like sleep.” His lips touch your cheek.

He lets you ‘warm up’ in his arms for a few minutes, then however long you doze for, lost and too comfortable to bother even trying to wake up properly. Your phone pings a couple of times after it comes out of sleep mode, a sure sign you’ve overslept, but Spencer doesn’t make you move until your stomach growls. 

“Come on,” he says, kissing your nose and slipping you back onto your side of the bed. “I’ll make breakfast.” 

“It’s nearly twelve.” 

“You just woke up, and it’s the first thing you’re gonna eat. You are breaking your fast. Breakfast.” He looks pretty even through achy, tired eyes, all the sleep crusted in your lashes no match for Spencer Reid. How you went so long without knowing him is a mystery. 

You get up only because he told you to and because he looked quite lovely when he did it, not because you want to. The bed is warm, that pit of his arms calling your name, but Spencer’s already rolling out of bed with an eager hand scratching through his hair. Sweat has made them tight and a little darker in the back. You’ll both have to shower at some point, preferably after he’s made you breakfast in bed. 

He can see your expectations on your face, and he laughs as he pulls a t-shirt on over his head. “Get up! I’m not bringing it up here, do you know how badly your sleep cycle is affected when you start doing the wrong things in bed?” 

“What counts as the wrong thing?” 

Spencer laughs again, softer now, and for a moment he traces your face with his eyes without speaking. “Fine,” he says, waving a hand at you as he makes for the bedroom door, “stay there. But only ‘cos you look so pretty!” 

“Thank you!” you call back. 

This time with Spencer isn’t enough. You need ten more years of this, thirty, fifty, you need to wake up in his arms and have him touch you and tickle your cheek with his breath. He’s too far to have him come back, so you resign to hugging him when he returns. 

Your phone pings again, drawing your attention finally. The first notification is a reminder to buy toothpaste today at the grocery store. The second is a text from a friend, the third an email. It’s one from last night that piques your interest, another friend, full capital letters: HELP. 

Her use of a laughing emoji defers any urgency. You click on the text thread and scroll up, puzzled by her previous messages, a link, and a caption: oh my god he was so dorky??? 

You open the video and feel your breath catch in surprise. 

Is that Spencer?

You're not stupid, you’ve seen photos of him and his friends together dotted around the apartment from over the years, and every time you come across that photo of him and Diana at a spelling bee with his huge black-framed glasses you have to laugh, but it’s different seeing him to hearing him. 

He’s so nervous. You can’t understand what it is he’s saying, something about mathematical components to profiling criminals. Jason Gideon stands in the background watching him closely. 

“There’s actually a good joke that–”

“Spencer,” Gideon reprimands. 

You watch in awe as Spencer stammers an apology, his cheeks a little pink. You’ve seen Spencer blush, but this feels different. He looks so young. His hair is straight as a pin. 

“Spencer, did you used to straighten your hair?” you call, hoping he can hear you over the sound of a frying pan popping in the kitchen. “Or do you have a perm now, or what?” 

“What!” 

“I’m confused on the logistics of your hair!” You feel something weird in your chest as on screen Spencer tucks a stray strand of hair behind his ear. It’s a mixture of wanting to eat him and wanting to reach through the screen to stroke his cheek with your thumb. 

Spencer treks back into the bedroom with his pink and white pinstripe apron over his shirt and sweatpants. He smells like cinnamon sugar already. “What are you talking about?” 

“My friend found a video of you and Jason at one of those lectures you did.” 

Spencer presses his lips together. For a moment, he doesn’t speak. “I didn’t do any lectures.”

“Uh, yes you did, liar, and you looked so cute.” You turn your phone to him. “So sweet.” 

He marches to the bed. Before you can stop him, he’s taking the phone from your hand, giving you the world's silliest, tiniest shove when you try to get it back. 

“Cruel,” you quip. 

Spencer stares at the phone screen, then you, “Sorry,” he says, turning pink, “I don’t know why I did that, just– I just–” He frowns deeply. “Can you stop smiling like that?” 

You climb onto your knees, a morning disaster, but when you wrap your arms around Spencer’s waist he looks at you like you’re perfect. His eyes soften, brows relaxing, his irises like dark dimes that slowly dilate as he looks you over. Your phone presses into your back, his arm wrapping around you. 

“You were adorable,” you say sincerely. 

“Not anymore?” 

You rub your cheek against his apron. “No, you still are. Let me watch the video again.” 

“Not a chance.” 

[sloaneispunk]

“once smitten”

frontman!in-ho x you

what if in-ho falls for gi-hun’s sister in the games?

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ ༊· ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚

“excuse me, i-” in-ho tried to introduce himself.

“ah, you’re so stupid! how could you take an invitation from a stranger?!” gi-hun scolded you as you stood like a little kid before him, head down with your hands behind your back.

“oh, yes, how can we help you?” jung-bae chuckled awkwardly, turning to face in-ho.

“i was just wondering if i could join your team, i saw that-”

“you’re saying that to me?! you came voluntarily too, again!” you shouted back at your brother, cutting in-ho off again as the team tried to de-escalate the situation.

“give me one moment.” jung-bae excused him, pulling you aside, away from gi-hun to calm down.

“i’m sorry.” apologised gi-hun as he turned his attention towards in-ho, looking him up and down once. “i’m gi-hun, that’s my sister y/n.” he said, pointing to you as you slumped onto the ground.

“ah, i must have caught you guys at a bad time.” in-ho sniggered, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

“no, no. everything’s fine here, you’re welcomed to join us.”

in-ho gave him a grateful smile, walking towards you, brushing skimmed past gi-hun.

“hi, you’re y/n? i’m assuming?”

you nodded, “you had to ask my brother for permission to join?” you jokingly said.

in-ho took a seat on the floor beside you. “what happened? if you don’t mind me asking.”

“gi-hun didn’t come home for a year after his first game. went on like a lunatic about it when he did come home. then, he was gone, next thing i knew i was ‘happily reunited’ with him again here.”

of course in-ho had already knew all that, but it was part of his ruse to get closer to gi-hun.

“but whatever, it doesn’t matter anyway. i can take care of myself, i don’t need him.” you scoffed, arms crossed.

in-ho couldn’t help but grin at the sight, you were sulking in a corner with him, about the one thing that was possibly the least dangerous in the whole game.

“well, looks like i’m gonna be here for a while so, you know where to find me if you need me.” in-ho said, nudging your arm.

you giggled. “thanks, i didn’t catch your name.”

“young-il.”

“young-il…” you tried it on your lips, it sounded right.

“i’ll see you around.” he winked before he got up, walking off to join the rest of the team.

after that interaction, you couldn’t seem to get him off your mind. somehow, someway, it always went back to in-ho. when you and him were apart, you keeping away from gi-hun, you would sneak glances at him. sometimes, he would even already be staring, making you a blushing mess as you tried to cover it up by looking elsewhere.

after the second game of ‘six-legged pentathlon’, you were sat on your bed with the team surrounding you, all eating the food they had given you.

at that point, gi-hun was fuming. you couldn’t deny that you haven’t been pissing him off but who was he to say anything? afterall, he was the one that abandoned you for this stupid game.

“y/n, finish your food.” gi-hun told you sternly when you left the remainders aside.

“i’m not hungry.” you said monotonously, not meeting his eyes.

“you’re not going to have energy to play the next game if you don’t.” he scolded, raising his voice.

“who cares?”

“y/n. finish it now.”

“or what? you’re gonna disappear again? are you gonna leave me again?” you retaliated, sneering when he didn’t reply.

suddenly, he shot up, grabbing you by the collad as he slammed you into the wall. you screamed, but was silenced when your head came into contact with the rough surface.

“enough, gi-hun!” you heared in-ho yell, “put her down!”

then, you were being dropped to the ground. in-ho ran towards you, grabbing a hold of you before you could fall.

“are you okay?” he asked, brushing your hair aside to see your face.

but you couldn’t reply. you could only look at the ground, tears hitting the floor underneath you.

in-ho couldn’t be assed about anything else at that moment, he gently escorted you to the exit which was heavily guarded. without a word, the guards opened the door, letting you and him both leave without question. maybe if he was in the right mind, he would have been more careful about blowing his cover, but luckily for you, he wasn’t.

in-ho walked you to the bathroom, effortlessly lifting you onto the sink. he took a moment looking at your pitiful form, he felt his heart break.

“can you look at me?” he whispered, waiting for permission before he lifting your chin with his fingers. “let me see your pretty face.”

as you locked eyes with him, you could feel the embarrassment bubbling in your stomach. you were so weak, so vulnerable now before him. “young-il…” you managed to choke out.

he didn’t need anything else, he knew exactly what you needed at that moment, leaning forward to pull you into his embrace. the second you had your head on his shoulder, you sobbed. no one, not even you, knew if he was because you were scared, or angry, or hurt, but he was everything you could feel at that moment and nothing else mattered.

a few minutes passed, when you eventually calmed down and pulled away, you let out a laugh. in-ho was confused, did he do something wrong?

“thank you, young-il.” you smiled sadly at the man before you.

internally, he let out a sigh of relief. “are you feeling better?”

you nodded. you lifted your hand, touching the back of your head, causing you to wince in pain. “shit.” you cursed under your breath as you looked at your hand, a small trace on blood left on it.

“c’mere.” in-ho instructed, inspecting your wound. “it’s okay, i think it’s just a graze.”

he helped you clean your wound, taking care of you like you were his own treasured item, each movement acted out with upmost care.

“he’s not always like that.” you broke the silence as he hummed. “i don’t know what this place has turned him into.”

but in-ho didn’t care, you had just given him another reason to carry out his plan against gi-hun.

when the two of you headed back to the room, gi-hun ran to you.

“i think you should leave her alone from now on.” in-ho stepped in when he got too close for his liking.

“but y/n-”

“fuck off.” maybe it was a little more than personal now, but either way, he didn’t like the idea of gi-hun coming close to you again.

that night, you slept with in-ho by your side, you cuddled up to his side as he sat still on the bed, careful not to move. in-ho didn’t sleep for the whole night, he was too busy admiring your sleeping form and savouring the feeling of you cuddled up next to him. it made him wonder if this could be what it could be like outside the games.

maybe the you and him would have an apartment, maybe even a dog. it would be the epitome of a perfect life. everynight after work he would come home to you, being welcomed by your hugs and kisses. he smiled hard even just from the thought of it.

much often, when his thoughts had gotten the better of him, he would place a kiss on your forehead or draw cute little patterns on your arm.

y/n, y/n, y/n, what were you doing to him?

[pboogerswbb]

SO IT GOES - chapter 7

Paige Bueckers x oc Warnings: sexual content, mental abuse, toxic relationship, language Wordcount: 7.7K A/C: SHE'S BAACKKK!!! omg i missed you guys so much you don't even know! I AM BACK and i'm locked in and i finally got this chapter out for you, ty for being so so patient with me, i will have more time to write for everyone now!! ily guys and tysm for 1k followers, i have a little surprise to you to celebrate that soon :)) ILYM <33

italics are flashbacks

-

Before London

“You buckled up?”

“Yes,” I murmur, crossing my legs and looking out the window. It’s one of those days where it’s been grey and gloomy since the morning. The dark clouds billow in along the horizon, causing an unbearable humidity to fall over Dallas. The weather felt heavy, everyone hoping for a gentle May storm to bring some relief. I could feel sweat growing in my neck, the humidity causing my hair to turn unruly, impossible to manage, dark curls twisting every which way except the direction they were supposed to.

The heaviness was impossible to escape, even in Paige’s car - though I’m not exactly sure if it’s the weather or the tension between us having my stomach doing flips.

“Jesus…” The blonde mumbles to herself when a song by The Weeknd starts playing, nimble hands quickly skipping it.

Since our interrupted moment on my couch we hadn’t talked about it, neither of us wanting to be the first to bring it up. We left it at that, just a moment of weakness between us both, Paige avoiding my gaze whenever she could. The blonde, however, had been growing uncharacteristically more frustrated ever since. Whether because of what happened between us or the game tomorrow, I wasn’t sure.

“So… When’s your dad coming?” I ask carefully, knowing she has been irritated all day. Matter of fact Arike and Lou had warned me about it earlier.

“Tonight, I’ll pick him up from the airport,” she mumbles and then groans, hitting the steering wheel like remembering something. “I was gonna clean before but I forgot.”

“Do you need help?”

“Nah.”

“Paige, I really don’t mind,” I insist, watching the hooper driving with practiced ease in her Nike sweats and a black t-shirt. “I kind of owe it to you since you took care of me…”

Paige’s blue eyes flicker from the road to me, back to the road, face turning red at the memory of us on the couch. Just as she’s about to answer, another song by The Weeknd begins to play.

“This fuckin’ playlist,” Paige groans, quickly skipping every song with any type of sexual implications. It was almost funny, really, the way she was behaving. She’s huffing, fumbling with her phone to change songs before throwing the device to me. “Just put on sumn Iz, please, I’m getting pissed off.”

“I can see that,” I chuckle, picking another list which seemingly is more chill. “Nervous about the game huh?”

“I dunno man,” she mumbles, rubbing her face and leaning back against the seat, jaw clenching. Truthfully, I felt just as frustrated, my mind spinning around how the girl felt on top of me. Everything she did felt so effortless, yet had me probably wetter than I had ever been in my life with such ease. The mere memory had been driving me mad, my own hand trying to relieve the ache between my thighs but with no such luck. Honestly the tension was driving me just as frustrated as Paige is. And God this stupid, overbearing heat, the way it had turned my skin sticky, making it hard to breathe. Paige rubs her own chest, as if feeling the exact same.

Even now, watching the blonde, her veiny hands on the wheel, arms glistening with sweat from the humidity, neck bobbing as she swallows heavily, blonde hair down and straight. all of it had that familiar ache grow between my legs again. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anyone this much.

I lick my lips and move my eyes to the road, beginning to feel flustered. The temptation of toying with the idea of going to bed with the blonde had been growing stronger and stronger, driving me up the wall. Maybe it was time for me to try on someone else. But I felt afraid, it had been years since I slept with anyone else but Jasper. Maybe this could be a good chance to see how it might make me feel? But then again Paige would need to understand that it has to be just sex. Nothing more. No attachment. 

Memories of her filthy words repeat in my head. I swear no one’s ever spoken to me like that before. No one had ever told me such dirty things. It was exhilarating, it had me soaked. 

The drive is quiet, Paige letting out frustrated huffs now and then and chewing on her lower lip.

“Will we still do the pregame interview for socials tomorrow?” I ask.

“Course,” she huffs with annoyance.

“Okay no reason to have an attitude with me now,” I answer, growing a little annoyed or perhaps frustrated too.

She pulls up to our building’s parking lot, exhaling loudly. “You right,” she mumbles and turns to me, face softening exponentially. Paige reaches over, taking both my hands into hers. It’s enough to make my stomach flip. “You right Iz, I’m sorry. Ion wanna be like that with you I just… It’s this damn heat and everything.”

Our eyes lock, and I consider leaning over the center console and kissing her. But I wasn’t brave enough. Not yet, at least.

“It’s okay Paige,” I hum. Slightly hesitantly, the blonde brings my hands up to her mouth and presses a soft kiss to both of them, eyes fluttering shut. I feel the familiar blush build on my cheeks as I watch her, jolts running through my body. No, I’m done being scared. I need her now.

“Can I come over to yours please?” I ask as politely as I can, though the look in my eyes lets Paige know exactly what’s on my mind. I swear I’ve never seen her nod so quickly, barely letting my words sink in. She clumsily climbs out of the car, practically running to my side to open the door and helping me out. The blonde’s steps are hurried, long strides making it hard for me to keep up as we climb to her floor, a slight grin on my face as I watch the eagerness in which she was moving with. 

Paige’s hands scramble with the lock, the key shaking a little in her hand as she finally opens the door, allowing me in first. My stomach starts to twist, and there’s a burn spreading around my upper thighs as I take off my heels, suddenly significantly shorter than the blonde girl following on my tail.

I hear the door close and turn around, chest heaving much like Paige’s is as I watch her blue eyes roaming my body, the black pencil skirt and the body hugging maroon short-sleeved top, her gaze landing on my face, mouth already agape and breaths growing heavy. 

For a moment we just breathe, our eyes locked on each other, taking the moment in. The tension, the pent up frustration, the need we have for each other, until the blonde snaps and pushes me into the wall which feels cold against my warm back. Paige’s hands land on my waste as our lips crash into a messy, sloppy, needy kiss. A type of kiss I had never had before. It leaves me breathless, my arms wrapping around her shoulders, long fingers wrapping into her hair and pulling the girl closer. She moves her lips off mine, beginning to trail to my neck, hands on my waist travelling downwards to my ass, groaning as she feels it under her grip. 

“W-wait,” I gasp breathlessly, legs already beginning to shake. 

“Mhm,” Paige hums against my skin, lips never quitting working on my neck. 

“I- fuck,” I whimper. “I just need you to know that this has to be just sex.”

Without even thinking I feel the blonde nod, lips sucking right below my ear. “Okay, whatever you want Iz.”

I pull her away from my neck by her hair, meeting her eyes. “I’m serious. Just sex.”

Paige’s eyelids are heavy, the normally bright blue of her eyes turning dark with lust as she gazes down at me. “Izara, I mean it. Whatever you want me to be I’mma be okay?”

When those words leave the blonde’s mouth I nearly crumble to the ground. I can’t wait for a second longer, the wetness pooling between my legs enough proof of that.

“Take me to bed,” I tell the younger girl, who picks me up with ease as my legs wrap around her torso. She kisses me hungrily, our tongues meeting in a battle for dominance which the blonde soon wins as she places me down on her bed softly, my skirt now hiked up halfway up my thighs.

For a moment Paige stands above me, eyes roaming my body as she shakes her head in disbelief. “You’re so beautiful,” she mumbles, then climbs on top of me, her right hand hiking my skirt all the way up, revealing my lacy red panties. When Paige notices, she lets out a groan, practically drooling but working hard to pace herself.

“Take this off,” I murmur, yanking on Paige’s t-shirt.

“Yes ma’am,” she replies, pulling it over her head and onto the floor. I watch the way her muscles in her abdomen clench and I can’t help but drag my fingernails along it as she sits up on top of me, straddling me while I lie flat against the soft blanket.

“Fuck,” she moans hoarsely, throwing her head back, her hands inching underneath my top.

“Would you like it off?” I ask, chest heaving.

“Yes. Please.”

I pull the top off, the blonde’s fingertips leaving tingles as they drag over my ribs. Somehow I don’t feel nervous, all my anxious thoughts left the second I felt Paige on me again.

“Goddamn…” The girl sighs, her hand dragging to my matching lace bra and palming my round breast, making me whimper. I pull her down by the chain on her neck, kissing her feverishly, my underwear growing wetter with every passing moment, mind spinning with need. As I let out a whine, Paige gets the hint, her right hand dragging down my body to my bare thigh and squeezing. 

My back arches off the bed, another whine spilling from my lips but quickly silenced by the blonde’s kiss, her fingers trailing up my inner thigh torturously slowly.

“Paige,” I cry out.

“Tell me what you want?” Paige asks, her voice gravelly in a way I haven’t heard before.

“You to touch me,” I whimper, my brows furrowing with need. “Please.”

“So polite ma,” she grins, beginning to kiss my neck, inching downwards my body to my breasts. “I’mma take good care of you baby, don’ worry.”

My legs spread wider in anticipation as her lips trail downwards along my stomach. I can feel my head spinning, unable to accept that this is real and actually happening. That I would finally find relief to the awful ache inside me.

Faint giggles take me out of the moment, snapping me back to reality. I must’ve imagined - no wait, I can definitely hear giggles. “Paige,” I say.

“Mhm,” she hums, kissing along my inner thighs now.

“You hear that?”

“Hear what,” she mumbles against my skin, nuzzling it, her eyes finally opening when I sit up.

“Listen,” I complain, pushing her off by her forehead to make her pay attention.

“I hear nothin, just lie down and re-”

It’s clear. The sound coming from the front door. Paige’s front door, someone fumbling with the key in the keyhole, turning it and-

“What the fuck?” Paige asks, abruptly getting off me and hurrying to the door of her bedroom, peeking into the corridor in her sports bra and sweats. I get up too, pulling my skirt down, wanting to cry with frustration.

-

There they are. By my doorstep. KK, Ice, Azzi, Jana and Ash, holding balloons and banners and other decorations, giggling amongst each other.

“I- wh- KK? Ice? A- how did y’all get in?” I ask, eyes flickering between the girls and Izara in the bedroom, pulling her skirt down and throwing her top on frantically. 

“Why aren’t you at practice?”

“It ended early,” I say, my voice rising uncharacteristically as I attempt to steady my breathing from what almost just happened. How close I was to getting what I had been craving for weeks. I loved these girls but, God could I kill them right now. “How the hell do y’all got a key to my place??”

“Oh it’s your dad’s,” Azzi giggles. “We were gonna surprise you, he’s downstairs.”

Oh so not only my girls but my dad was gonna arrive at the scene. With a girl in my bedroom. I glance at Iz, who’s fixing her hair in the mirror, but she looks completely fucked out. And I bet I do too. I had no idea how to explain myself out of this one.

“Wh-” I start

“Yeah why aren’t you hugging us and shit? You forget all about us?” KK huffs.

I rub my face, letting out a heavy exhale when Izzie walks out of the bedroom into the eyeline of the group of girls. All their eyes widen, and I can’t ignore the shared looks between them. Quick, Paige, say something.

“Uhh, guys this is Iz- I mean, Zari, she uh, was over to uh…” I scratch the back of my neck, KK already covering her mouth trying not to laugh.

“I just needed to borrow…” Izzie’s eyes scan the room. “Paige’s lamp! Mine broke, so. Couldn’t see to read my book.” Her face is bright red, the usual composure with which she presented herself completely gone. I almost groan at the excuse but realise that would just make the situation seem a million times worse.

“Yes! She was! Uh let me get it for you,” I mumble, about to walk into the bedroom to actually grab a lamp for the girl.

“No no! You say hi to your friends, I can do it myself!”

I wanna bury my face into my hands and go back into the bedroom and lock the door and never come out. All the girls are staring with amused faces, hands holding balloons and flyers and little decorations in preparation for my first game tomorrow, clearly suspicious of us two. Just when I think it can’t get worse, my dad - yes my dad - walks in.

“Why are you girls all- Oh hi, don’t you have practice?” He asks, holding a cake.

I rub the bridge of my nose, not sure whether to laugh or cry at this point.

“Got home early,” I sigh, too flustered to even enjoy the fact that my best friends and my dad were here to see me.

“This girl here is borrowing a lamp,” KK mumbles under her breath to my dad, trying to hold in her snickers. What a stupid excuse. I thought Izzie was supposed to be smart. Borrowing a lamp, what kinda excuse was that?

My dad’s eyes land on Izzie, flickering between me and her and the awkwardly large distance between us as if that might help us look less suspicious. Though based on the small grin on my dad’s face, I can tell it’s doing the exact opposite.

“I’m Bob, Paige’s dad,” my dad slides inside through the girls who are eyeing the situation with amused expressions, shaking hands with Iz like I wasn’t just between her legs ready to do something unimaginable.

“Hey, I’m Izara. I’m a friend of your daughter’s.”

“Izara huh?” He turns to me with a sly grin, something I’d inherited. “You haven’t mentioned an Izara?”

“She prefers Zari,” I correct, trying to avoid his eye. “She does media for the Wings.”

For a moment everyone’s quiet, multiple pairs of eyes staring at me, then Zari, then me again. The silence lingers, bordering on uncomfortable when to everyone’s relief KK speaks.

“Bro we don’t even get a hug or nothing?”

-

She’s there, sitting on my couch, in between Ice and Azzi and laughing that sweet giggle of hers. She looks comfortable, already gaining the approval of my friends with ease. We’re sitting in a circle around the coffee table eating pizza, easy conversation flowing between everyone. But all I could pay attention to was the brunette girl, how easily she fit in, how she had already charmed the hell out of my dad. I couldn’t take my eyes off her, the way her eyes sparkle when she laughs at my friends’ stupid jokes, or the coy smile on her perfect lips when my dad asks her a question. I needed her, badly, even more than before if possible. 

“Excuse me, I need some water,” Izara catches my eye and excuses herself to the kitchen. Without a word I get up, following on her trail like a puppy. I know everyone notices us leaving, but I don’t care. I wanted to take every second to be with her, to touch her, to have her to myself.

“Hey,” I mumble, leaning against the doorframe and watching as she looks through my cupboards for glasses.

“Hey,” she hums with a smile. I walk to the girl, pressing my front into her back as I reach for a glass in the cupboard above us.

“Oh, thank you,” Izzie says, her voice shaky as my hand lands on her waist. The girls’ voices are loud but distant, echoing around the sparsely furnished living room. So in a moment of weakness I allow my head to tilt down into the crook of Izara’s neck, inhaling the fruity, gentle jasmine scent of her perfume, nuzzling my nose against her goosebump forming skin. I feel her shift, the curve of her ass pressing against me as I allow my lips to press soft kisses onto her golden skin.

The dark haired girl lets out a shaky breath and the sound drives me wild, it taking every drop of my self discipline not to make everyone leave just so I could have my way with her, just to make her feel good. Izzie’s head tilts back, resting against my chest as I bite on her shoulder, my lips gliding and leaving sloppy kisses on her neck.

“Paige,” she whispers chuckling, clearly torn between asking me to stop and asking for more.

“You’re fucking killing me,” I murmur into her ear, my voice hoarse and trembling with need. 

The girl turns around, her green, emerald eyes wider than usual looking up at me as her hand moves onto my chest. I let my fingertips slide underneath the hem of her shirt, feeling the soft skin there. “We’ll have time. Later,” she comforts me softly, but it’s not enough.

I throw my head back in frustration and groan, like a child not getting their way.

“Izzie I’m so forreal, I need to have you before the game tomorrow or I’mma be so out of it.”

The girl giggles, shaking her head, wrapping her arms around my neck. “Come over in the morning?”

“I gotta leave at 10. Needa take my time with you.”

Izzie chuckles. “Okay, 8:30?”

“8:00,” I argue, though no amount of time would be enough.

“Do you need two hours?” The girl laughs but I shake my head, trying to stifle the grin on my face.

“Ion need more than five minutes ma, trust,” my words make Izzie’s cheeks turn a shade of red. “But need to take my time. Wanna do it just right.”

Izara might be poised and have a great poker face, but I can tell she needs it as bad as I do. It’s in the way her chest is heaving, the way her pupils are wide and the way her mouth is parted. So I lean in, my lips hovering over her ear.

“Gonna eat that pussy so good ma, gonna have you crying-”

“Yooo…”

I pull away urgently, helped by the fact that Izzie practically pushes me off her, both our heads turning to KK standing in the doorway, trying not to laugh.

“Uhh, I’mma be back,” she says turning around but I grab the shorter girl by the arm and pull her back in.

“Whatchu need?”

Izzie is blushing, trying to hide the smile growing onto her face by holding her hand over her mouth and staring at the wall.

“A tissue, I dropped some food,” KK says.

I gasp. “Bro not on the rug right?”

KK scoffs, grabbing the tissue from me. “Dallas changed you already ‘cause why you care about a rug more than me?”

-

Paige

Yo I’m so sorry I gotta head in early

That’s okay Paige, good luck. I’ll see you before the game, yeah?

I reread the texts on my screen that I never got an answer to. I’m not worried, she’s probably nervous. Or busy. But it’s so… unlike her. Paige was usually the one to message me back the moment I texted her. I was probably overthinking. I hated how I got when I liked someone. Not that I liked Paige. I wanted her badly. But there were no feelings involved and there surely could never be. I wasn’t even close to being ready.

Despite all that I could feel an uncomfortable twist somewhere deep in my stomach watching the way the blonde girl had left me on read. Like I always did when I began to get feelings. I was painfully aware of how scary it was, those feelings stirring within me again. I just had to keep them in control. I know how these things end. I know Paige seems amazing right now - unreal almost. But it was just an illusion. Soon she’d be bored of me, leaving me in tears, crying myself to sleep at 3am. That’s how it always ended up. I promised myself I’d never be that girl again.

-

“Jasper, please, could we just sit down and communicate?”

My voice is steady, gentle, like it had to be when he was in one of these moods. I sit on the couch, watching as he paces around me, trying not to blow up. I try to make myself small, breathe quiet, not look him in the eye, anything that might set him off. Once Jasper was set off there was nothing to do. I knew that better than anyone.

“Here we go again,” he groans, throwing his head back in frustration. A bitter, sarcastic laugh escapes his mouth.

“No, not like that, please. I swear I just want to talk-”

“No Izara you want to bitch about my drinking again. You’re behaving like a controlling bitch-”

There’s a pang of pain in my chest, the tears I’ve been swallowing making themselves known as my eyes grow wet.

“Please, Jasper, I’ve asked you before not to call me that,” I plead, my voice still soft but growing weaker.

The man rolls his eyes at the sight of me. “Wow, here we go again. Poor Zari, always perfect, always the victim.”

“I never said I was perfect, far from it! I’m just asking you to not call me a bitch,” I debate, my voice rising in response to feeling defensive.

“I didn’t even say you were a bitch! I said you’re behaving like one!” His voice is harsh, cutting through the air and ringing my ear painfully. Familiarly. This was a discussion we’d had about 15 times before. And it always went the same. I don’t even know why I was still trying. 

“God, you’re so manipulative, trying to put words into my mouth,” he murmurs under his breath. He’d said those words so many times part of me had started to think he might be right. Maybe I am manipulative. Maybe I need to just let him be. I’m being dramatic and his drinking wasn’t an issue. Jasper never physically hurt me or hit me. It could be so much worse. Words can only do so much.

I feel the tears spill over finally, dripping down my cheeks. As Jasper notices he lets out a laugh, shaking his head. “What, you’re crying now? Like you’re the victim here?”

“Jasper, please, I’m tired,” I cry, my voice shaky as I bury my face into my hands. “Can we just forget this and go to sleep? I’ve got that important meeting tomorrow.”

“Well probably should’ve thought of that before, huh? Before starting all this drama for nothing!”

“I just wished you wouldn’t have been so drunk tonight! I was having a hard day, I needed you with me!” I finally snap, yelling back. I never yell, but sometimes with Jasper it felt like it was the only way for him to hear me. Even though I always hated myself afterwards.

“So what? I’m a bad boyfriend? Worst boyfriend in the world?”

“No, that’s not what I said-”

“Fine, if I’m so bad I’ll leave,” Jasper simply says. walking to the entryway, grabbing his coat off the coat rack. Urgently, I get up and run after him, panic spreading all over me. He knew this triggered me. He did this every time he was about to “lose” one of our fights. Because it hurt me the most.

“Wait, wait wait wait,” I cry, my voice weak and trembling as I grab his arm. “Please no, don’t go, please, Jasper, please.”

He ignores me, pulling his arm out of my reach and looking for his keys.

“Jasper,” I sob, legs too shaky to hold me up anymore. I fall to my knees, trying not to throw up all over the man. “Jasper, please. I’m sorry. You’re right, I’m too hard on you. You’re so wonderful to me. I love you okay, I love you. I’m sorry. Please don’t leave me.”

The man finally turns, looking down at me and shaking his head as my wide eyes blink up at him. With a deep sigh, he puts down his keys and lifts me up from the ground.

“Are you done?” He asks, voice frustrated and tired.

I nod, tears still spilling from my eyes. “I’m sorry, please don’t go. Please.”

“I won’t Izara, but these fits of yours need to end,” Jasper says as his comforting, familiar arms wrap around me.

“You’re right, Jasper. It’s my fault. I’m sorry.”

-

My cab finally pulls up to College Park Center, and I quickly slide in through the side door, making my way through the confusing corridors with practiced ease now. I wanted to find the blonde girl, just to make sure she was okay. Just to see her before the game. I check the gym, the weight room, the dining hall but see no sign of her. Finally, as a last resort, I knock on the door of the dressing room, shifting on my feet and smoothing over my black mini skirt and the red sweater hanging off my right shoulder nervously. At last the door opens, Lou peeking her head out with a smile.

“Oh hey.”

“Hey Lou, happy game day!” I greet her, trying to not make it obvious I was looking for someone. Like I was just casually there to wish the girls good luck.

“Thanks Zari, big day,” the girl smiles, looking at me expectantly.

“Oh, uh, is um, is-”

“Paige is here, you need her?” I don’t miss the grin on the brunette’s face, the knowing look she has in her eyes. Thought I had been hiding it better with Paige, apparently not.

“Yes, actually I do,” I chuckle awkwardly, clasping my hands in front of me, acrylics scratching against my skin. My heart races as I wait, my stomach turning at the idea of seeing her. Seeing Paige.

Soon the blonde girl arrives at the door, but the familiar wide smile isn't there. Her eyes look red, tired, the skin darker than usual underneath, mouth in a straight line. 

“Paige, are you okay?” I ask, taken back by her appearance.

She looks at me for a while, blue eyes landing on mine, big hand rubbing her jaw. “I’m alright.”

I can tell that she’s not. 

“Paige,” I repeat, looking at her challengingly. The blond sighs and shrugs and it’s then I notice the shaking of her hands. Uncontrollable, clearly visible. “Whoa, what’s going on darling?”

She looks back into the changing room before stepping out, shaky hand rubbing her eyes. I don’t miss the slight tremble of her lower lip, the way her blue eyes grow glossy.

“Whoa, hold on love,” I coo, grabbing a hold of her hand and pulling her into a new corridor, opening the door to the often empty media team office to find it desolate of people once more. “Come on.”

I close the door behind us and watch closely as the blonde plots herself down on the couch, chest heaving fast. 

“Paige, talk to me,” I comfort her, following behind and sitting next to her. As the blonde lifts her blue eyes off the floor, I see she’s tearing up avoiding my gaze.

“I’m so fucking scared Iz,” she admits, lower lip quivering. My heart fills with affection, and instinctively I wrap my arms around her broad, bare shoulders in her sports bra. 

“Of what?”

“Of screwing up, everyone got crazy expectations. Everyone gonna be watching,” Paige sighs, sniffling weakly. I had never seen her like this, in my head she wasn’t afraid of anything. Guess I was wrong.

“Paige,” I begin, pulling back and grabbing hold of her warm hands. “It’s a big moment, it’s okay to be nervous, to be scared even. But you’re not gonna fail. The only expectations that matter are the ones you put on yourself.”

“I don’t know, I love my girls y’know but fuck I don’t need em here today,” she sighs, wiping a tear from her left cheek. I let my thumb help her a little, brushing against her soft skin. 

“They wanted to surprise you, they love you very much, you know?”

“I know,” Paige murmurs, her thumbs rubbing the skin of my palms. “But I just needed to focus on myself today. I dunno, just feel really fucking overwhelmed.”

“Hey,” I stop her, chasing her gaze. The blonde’s blue eyes meet mine, finally softening. “You’re going to go out there, and you’re going to pretend it’s just you and your team at practice. No audience today, no one you know watching. Just you. And whether you get none of your shots in or all of them, it’s okay. And you get to try again. You’re just dipping your toes in okay? This isn't the defining moment of your career. It’s just one of many.”

Paige listens and takes every word in, processing as her eyes remain locked in mine. Finally her brows soften and she lets out a final, relieved breath. 

“My dad really liked you, talked about you all night after you left.”

“Really?” I grin, making the blonde nod with a smile. 

“My friends too, they wanna get to know you better,” Paige adds. I feel a slight panic in my chest for a moment, the fear of what Paige might’ve said to her friends about us. After all, we had agreed to be just friends despite everything. I hope she didn’t have the wrong idea that I might change my mind.

“Wish I had time to come see you this morning.”

I feel my cheeks heat up immediately. “Yeah?”

She nods, a small grin growing on her face. “Yeah, wouldn’t be feeling so tense.”

I chuckle as her hands let go of mine, landing on the back of my head and pulling me into a sweet, caring kiss that takes me by surprise. But I can’t bear to pull away, nor do I want to. So for a moment we kiss, our lips moving together sending jolts all over my body as the blonde’s hand lowers to my waist and pulls me closer to her. Without a thought my body obeys, skirt hiking up as she pulls me on top of her to straddle her.

Both of our breathing grows heavier as the kiss turns more urgent, Paige exhaling loud through her nose as her hand finds the soft skin of my bare upper thigh, grabbing it needily making me wince. I could feel my arousal pooling between my legs once more, the blonde’s hand sliding upwards until her thumb meets the sheer fabric of my panties, pressing against my clit. We both let out a quiet, desperate whimper, me from the contact, her from how wet I already was. 

This wasn’t sensible, anyone could walk in. Paige’s first ever game in the league would start in only a few hours and she had just been crying from feeling so overwhelmed. But both of us had forgotten, too consumed by the lust that had been eating us alive. I needed her. She needed me.

Paige pulls away from the kiss, long eyelashes blinking at me and pink lips slightly parted. She looked beautiful, like she was already completely out of it. 

“Need to feel you ma, please let me,” she whines, looking for any sign of approval on my face. “Need to feel this pussy around my fingers.”

No one had ever spoken in such a filthy way to me before. And it drove me crazy. The sheer dirtiness of the things Paige said, the way her voice turned hoarse and whiny, the way she really, truly behaved like she would die unless she got to fuck me. I had never experienced it before. Everything about it intoxicated me, my soaked panties prove of how much so.

“Paige, are you sure this is smart?” I ask, my voice weak and shaky.

“Ion care about smart, need to fuck you before my big game,” the blonde murmurs, beginning to kiss my neck, fingertips rubbing gentle circles on my clit against the fabric. “Please mama, need to make you cum, that’s all I want.”

I let out another whimper, her words winning me over.

“C’mon ma, can feel how wet you are for me. Lemme help baby, lemme take care of you.”

Finally I snap, desperately nodding. Without missing a beat, Paige’s fingers hook around the edge of my panties, pulling them to the side as I stay straddling her, feeling the cool air on my dripping cunt.

“This ain’t right. I gotta see that shit,” Paige murmurs and before I understand what she means, she’s pushing me back, my spine hitting the couch as she remains still, my thighs spread wide for her as she sits in between.

Paige’s blue eyes are nearly blown out black with lust as her gaze travels slowly from my flushed face, to my heaving chest, down my stomach, all the way to the panties slid to the side, finally landing on my core. I swear I have never seen the girl so dazed, like everything around her disappeared, her lips parting further, tongue darting out to lick them.

“Fuck,” she whispers, fingers spreading my lips apart to see my wetness glistening in the lighting of the office. To see my folds and the way I was already throbbing for her. I had never been looked at like that before, yet didn’t feel shy or unsure. Because I could tell Paige was in absolute awe.

“So fucking pretty, huh?” The blonde asks, finger carefully brushing up and down against my folds and clit, making my whole body shiver. She was barely touching me yet I couldn’t fight the whine spilling from my lips. This was so unlike me, spread out in overhead lighting in a room anyone could walk into at any moment with a girl I hadn’t even been out on a date with. But it was the last thing I cared about. I needed Paige Bueckers to fuck me now.

“Paige, fuck me,” I demand, my voice breathy and brows furrowed as I watch her.

A sly grin forms on her lips as she gathers wetness through my folds with ease, beginning to circle my clit lazily. The sound is obscene, caused by how slick I had grown for her in the past few minutes. I moan softly, covering my own mouth and letting my eyes fall closed.

“What do you need? Tell me baby,” Paige coos, but she knows. She can see the way my pussy is clenching around nothing, crying for her, begging to be filled. 

“Baby,” I whimper, bucking my hips but the blonde’s free hand brings me down by my thigh.

“Use your words ma.”

“Inside,” I whisper, cheeks growing redder at having to tell the girl with words what I needed from her.

“Yeah? You need my fingers inside your pussy?”

I nod, the words making my arousal grow even more.

“Please,” I add, hoping to hurry the blonde along.

Suddenly, Paige’s fingers slide downwards towards my entrance, circling before two of them begin to break into me, painfully slowly. A loud gasp threatens to spill from my lips but the blonde covers my mouth quickly, her fingers sliding into me all the way. 

It’s impossible to describe how good it feels, to feel her touch me like this. The stretch of her fingers making my body tense and relax simultaneously. I was in heaven, surely sex never felt like this before. Only with her.

“Oh fuck you’re so tight,” Paige hisses, beginning to curl her fingers against me. The sound of squelching quickly takes over, only joined with both our moans. My back arches desperately, and I feel myself writhing for more, for the blonde to move faster.

It’s in the moment I’m about to start begging for more, the familiar sound of a keycard being slid against the reader takes over. Someone’s about to open the door. Both of us panic, Paige pulling her fingers away and quickly getting up from the couch as I struggle to get off my back, pulling my skirt down eagerly right as Trey walks in.

“Oh hey!” He smiles widely, oblivious to the heavy breathing me and Paige are both trying to get under control. “Oh Paige! Whatchu doing here?”

“Uh,” she murmurs, fingers still glistening with me before she wipes them on her thigh. “We uh,”

“We were planning that pregame interview! Should we film it soon?” I quickly interrupt, noticing Paige’s flustered expression. The shake in my legs is obvious, so I lean against the wall next to me.

“Yeah yeah, the interview,” the blonde murmurs which makes Trey’s brown eyes light up.

“Well great! Why don’t you go change and we film after.”

Paige glances at me as I do her, both of us trying to ignore the tension in the room that the man seemed to not recognise.

“Uhh yeah, lemme go do that,” the taller girl mumbles and leaves, my heart pounding faster than ever from earlier. As she closes the door, Trey turns to me.

“By the way Zari, we shouldn’t let anyone back here that isn’t part of the team, okay? Linda would freak.”

“Oh,” I say, brushing my hand through my hair. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

Trey looks at me for a while, leaning back against the desk behind him.

“You know, it’s okay to be friends with players but I think it’s better to keep things at a professional distance. Don’t wanna be getting too close, you know what I mean?”

I can tell he’s digging for something, trying to get me to fess up. Instead I cross my arms over my chest and nod. “Agreed, shall we prepare the interview?”

-

“Okay, Paige, stand here.”

Trey is maneuvering the blonde around, trying to find the best lighting as I check my notes over and over, my mind still swirling with all the interrupted moments that are growing tiresome. Paige is fiddling with her hands, staring at anything but me feeling just as frustrated by the interruption.

“Ahh, got it. Zari, would you.”

“Yes,” I murmur and step next to the blonde, a slight awkward distance between us. Every cell in me was itching to get closer, to press into her. I was dying for her. But it wasn’t the time. I had to focus on work. It was just hard to look away from her. That’s it.

“Closer Zari,” Trey chuckles, reaching for my shoulder and pushing me closer to Paige. We exchange an awkward, slightly giddy smile and I can tell the girl is beginning to blush, our shoulders pressing together. The blonde gazes upwards towards the low ceilings of the corridor, trying to kill the smile growing on her face.

“Okay, we good?” Trey asks, and I let out a soft giggle. Paige looks at me and giggles too, confusing the man behind the camera. “Something wrong?”

“No, no, we’re good,” I giggle, looking to the floor. The blonde nods in agreement, licking her lips to stifle the grin.

“Whenever you’re ready ladies,” Trey says, pressing record.

I take a deep breath, turning my eyes to the blue ones beside me. The ones I could get lost in forever. But now wasn’t the time. Not the time Izara. Work.

“I am here with our dear rookie, Paige,” I smile, licking my lower lip and looking away from the blonde, her intense gaze becoming too much. “First game today, how are we feeling?”

Paige kisses her teeth and sighs. “Oh man,” she starts, blue eyes boring into the side of my face. “It feels surreal, I’ve been waiting for this moment my whole life and now it’s finally here. Feelin’ really blessed and fortunate for sure. Playing my first against the Lynx just feels right, you know.”

I watch as her lips move, the way the edges of them curve when she speaks, barely registering the words coming out from how badly I needed her. 

“Favourite thing about Dallas so far?” I ask, crossing my arms and smiling up at the blonde. Her blue eyes are sparkling, a slight glimmer in them as she watches me with a smirk. As if the camera wasn’t filming every moment.

“Oh definitely the ribs,” Paige grins, suddenly interrupted by Arike standing at the other end of the corridor.

“Yooo, bro what?!” 

Me and Paige both begin to laugh, leaning into each other as we do. My hand instinctively graces her forearm as Trey pangs the camera to Arike.

“Alright, alright. And Arike,” Paige chuckles, making me scoff.

“Oy!” I shout, slapping her arm playfully.

“And you!” She grins, raising her hands in defeat. I can’t help the blush covering my face or the stupid smile stretching across.

“As I should be,” I joke, taking a deep breath and trying to remind myself of the planned questions and of Trey’s watchful eyes. It felt impossible under Paige’s gaze so intensely roaming my face, eye fucking me.

“You’ve got some friends and family in the audience tonight, who are you most excited to see you play tonight?”

The blonde looks at me for a meaningful moment, and I don’t miss what she wants to say. What she’s trying to express with her eyes. What she can’t admit in front of Trey.

“Uhh,” she blinks stupidly, finally breaking eye contact. “Probably my dad, yeah. But I’m excited to play for all the Wings fans too, needa impress them.”

“I’m sure you will,” I smile, my tone clearly flirty yet I don’t even recognise the fact. “Happy game day!!”

“Happy game day,” Paige echoes my words, wrapping an arm around my shoulder just as Trey puts the camera down. Yet the man keeps staring over at the two of us, studying every move, every exchanged look.

“Paige! Go change and let’s start warming up, c’mon!” Chris nods the blonde towards the lockers. I see her eyes turn to me once more, softening. 

“Wish me luck ma,” she murmurs, wrapping her arms around me and pulling me into a hug. I let her.

“Good luck Paige,” I mumble into her eyes, letting go and watching as she walks into the dressing room, leaving me alone with Trey. I could feel nerves bubbling in my stomach, heart beginning to pound in anticipation for the game. The man watches me for a while, deep in thought.

“Zari…. I gotta ask you something,” the man starts, his voice echoing in the corridor. He walks us to our office letting me know this wasn’t going to be a light subject, which made me nervous.

I sit on the desk, my legs hanging off as I cross them and watch the brunette pace around the room for a moment before turning to me. 

“Is there something going on with you and Paige?”

Fuck.

I think about lying, looking through my brain for any cover up story. There isn’t one. I was a horrible liar anyway. So I just sigh, looking down before nodding.

“Yeah, I didn’t mean for there to be but I like her. She likes me,” I admit, carefully looking at the man. “Look, it’s nothing though. Nothing serious, just fun.”

“For fucks sake Zari,” Trey sighs, rubbing his forehead.

“Excuse me?” I ask offended. Sure, it wasn’t great, but he was hugely overreacting.

Trey walks over to me and grabs a hold of my hands, stopping much too close to my liking.

“Zari, Linda is very… strict. You know this. But she does not allow anything like this, she must’ve told you? She gave me this big speech too when I came in.”

I blink at him, my lips parting a little. It wasn’t allowed. That’s it. That simple.

“Wh- no she never said,” I murmur. Trey nods, letting out a sigh.

“Zari you have to end it. You could get fired.”

My heart drops, mind starts spinning. I could get fired. Have to go back to the UK. Just like that. Fired. Just because I didn’t have the self-discipline to resist Paige.

“Trey, you’re not going to-”

He shakes his head. “No, of course not. Linda won’t know. But only if you end it now, okay? If she finds out I know I could get in trouble too.”

I look at the walls, covered in pictures of the entire Dallas Wings overtime, faces changing and some persisting year after year. I finally land on this year’s picture, on the blonde standing on the right side, smiling that familiar, wide, charming smile. It didn’t matter how much I liked her, how badly I needed her on me. None of it would matter if I got fired, if I got my visa revoked. I couldn’t do this dance we’d been playing the past month anymore. I had to end it.

-

taglist:@wbbgetsmewetter @thaatdigitaldiary @pb524830 @bueckersfive @lupinqs @sierrale8ne @d3arapril @lovegalor333 @avvwritesstufff @rosemariiaa @bueckers22 @taylynbueckers44 @unadulteratedcyclepaper @rizzlerbuckets @wosolipa @bridgetloveswomen @paiges-1vur @slut4uconnwbb @xxloveralways14 @bueckersbitch @janaelalfysblunt @omg-imtumbling @angryflowerwitch @ohbueckers

[k1mbe3rly]

Can you do a se mi head canon or fic with a really talkative reader. Thanks <3

it’s a dream for me

There’s one way to shut you up

warnings: Smut, ⚠️WLW⚠️ fingering, eating outp, titty sucking

You and Se-mi been in a relationship for awhile, everything was great, you loved her and she loved you, but the only problem for her was that you talked a LOTTT

Sometimes she even has her airpods in when your talking or she just zones out, sometimes she even stares at you or your tits as she listens to you talk and talk about many things at once

“Babe you won’t believe what just happened at work!” you said turning your body to her on the bed as she was scrolling thru her phone “Hm?” she said

“Remember my best friend? yea we she literally got cheated on…by her boyfriend” you told her as she faked a gasped “That’s crazy baby..” she said scrolling on her phone still

Thannn you started yapping on how she found out and who he cheated with, she laid there boredly just listening to you, she looked over at you as she admired your lips for a moment and smirked

She grabbed the back of your neck slowly as you kept talking, she leaned a bit more closer, she’s surprised you haven’t noticed

As you kept going on and on about your friends, she quickly took an advantage kissing you quickly as you widen your eyes at the sudden kiss, you let out a low chuckle into the kiss as your lips moved along with her

She slowly grabbed onto your waist pulling you on top of her

As you guys made out, soft lip smacking was heard as her hands travels to your back than to your ass slightly gripping it, you let out a low gasp into the kiss again as she bit your bottom lip, you looked at her as her eyes looked up at you lidded heavy eyes

She pulled back smirking as her hands went to the hem of your shirt quickly pulling it over your head, she threw it somewhere on the floor as she admired your tits a bit, her hands roamed your bare back

“You know you talk a lot right baby?” she spoke, “Your saying i’m annoying than?” you spoke back as she chuckled, she ignored your question as she unclipped your bra letting it fall down slightly, she than took off the strings out your arms throwing your bra somewhere else

She admired your bare tits as she bit her lip “fuckk baby…love your fucking boobs.” she spoke before she attacked one of them with her mouth, you gasped out feeling a warm feeling and her tongue roaming over your nipple, you let out a low moan as you gripped on her hair, with her other hand she rubbed her fingers over your nipple as well

As she kept sucking on them she finally pulled back, she quickly pushed you down the mattress so you lay flat and took off your pants along your panties

She spread open your legs as she admired what was between them, she looked up at you as you looked down at her breathless, “Se-mi..” but before you could continue she quickly placed her mouth on your pussy sucking and licking on it, you moaned out as you threw your head back “Fuckk!!” you moaned out

She kept sucking and fucking you with her tongue as that familiar knot formed, “Baby! i’m gonna cum!” you told her, she quickly pulled back as you whined out

She flipped you over onto all fours grabbed onto your ass and shoved her tongue back inside your pussy, you moaned out again loudly, her hand went over to your clit and rubbed on it, you gasped and moaned as you pushed you head onto the pillow

She than replaced her tongue with her fingers, as her fingerings curved in and out, your moans grew louder into the pillow, you gripped onto the pillow as well

She roughly fingered you, her hand snapping back and forth, with her other hand she slapped on your ass a bit and gripped it again

Her fingers still fingering you at an insanely fast pace, agin you felt that exact same knot into your stomach as your eyes rolled back a bit

“MM-!! baby~!! i’m gonna cum! holy shit i’m gonna fucking cum!” you screamed into the pillow as her fingers somehow got faster, you can hear her growling behind you

“Cum on my fingers baby, i wanna see you cum” she spoke

You kept moaning into the pillow as you came, her fingers getting soaked with your cum as she pulled out with a loud pop, your moans fell down as you kept your head between the pillow

She chuckled, “Love your moans so fucking much.” she said, “Moans are the same thing as my voice dummy..” you softly spoke as you felt tired and worn out a bit,

She hummed “Mm i love both, you just talk a lot and i just found a perfect way to shut you up..”

[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.

[heartsforjh]

CONGRATS ON 100 KIRBS <333 TO MANY MORE!

For your celly, can I request Luke and physical touch: “I thought you hated it when people touched you?” with reader on the receiving end (as in she's the one who isn't a fan of being touched)??

Thank you and good luck with your celly!!

THANK YOU! 🫶 now, 26 times. 26 times i fully listened to justin timberlake on repeat to produce this for you meg. also, while writing the part where reader couldn’t stay awake i actually fell asleep… 😭 anyways, i hope you enjoy. 🙏

You had met Luke at Umich not too long ago. Despite being quiet and unassuming around most people, he was rowdy and playful with your friend group, always bringing an easy energy to the room. He was funny, considerate, and far more polite than the average guy you’d met at your new university.

Today your friend group decided on hanging out in one of the larger dorms, so that there’s more room for everyone to actually fit. Luke, as usual, is roughhousing with his friends, their laughter echoing through the room. In the middle of their chaos, Luke accidentally bumps into you, nearly knocking you off balance.

“Oh, shit, my bad! I’m sorry Y/n,” he blurts, steadying you with wide, apologetic eyes.

“Lukey always finding excuses to touch his girlfriend.” Dylan teases, his grin wide and knowing.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Luke shoots back instantly, looking a little flustered, his tone shifts into something firmer. “Don’t be weird like that. It’s not funny to make her uncomfortable.”

Turning back to you, his expression softens into a sheepish smile. “I really am sorry, Y/n. I’ll be more careful.”

You nod, offering a polite smile. “It’s okay.” You can tell he feels bad, but before you can say anything else, his friends pulled him back into their conversation. You stay quiet, still too shy to fully insert yourself, being new to this circle of people.

Later that day, the group bundles up for the cold weather and heads to the UMich football game. As everyone files into the bleachers, Luke maneuvers himself to stand next to you. It was hard not to notice, and you could easily hear Dylan snickering.

Luke rolls his eyes but doesn’t budge, determined to put himself out there. After a moment, he glances at you, his face softening when he notices your rosy cheeks from the cold.

“So, uh… is this your first football game? I mean, UMich game?” He stumbles, trying to get his question out without looking stupid, “You’ve probably been to other football games before, but… yeah, first here?”

You can’t help but smile at how nervous he seems. “Yeah. This is my first.”

His face lights up at your response. “Cool! You’ll like it! These games are a lot of fun.”

You tuck your hands deeper into your jacket pockets, shivering slightly. “I hope so. It’s freezing out here.”

Luke chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, Michigan weather can be brutal. You’ll get used to it, though! I grew up here… well, partly in Canada too. Oh, but I was born in New Hampshire. Not that it matters…” He trails off, fully aware that he’s rambling but powering through anyway. “What I’m saying is, I’m used to the cold. And don’t worry, these games are always worth it. My brothers and I go all the time. Actually, we’ve got a lake house we visit in the summer together too—maybe you could come with sometime!” He slows down, hoping he’s not coming off too strong. “You know, if you’re around.”

You listen patiently, letting him overshare whatever his heart desires, “I’ll probably go home over the summer since it’s my first year here, but I bet I could find time to visit for a bit somewhere in there.”

“Really? Yeah… yeah, that’d be cool,” he says, his smile growing. He glances down and realizes exactly how close he’d moved towards you while talking.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he says, quickly shuffling back.

You don’t mind the closeness, but you weren’t gonna make it more awkward by telling him so. The two of you continued chatting, the conversation flowing naturally until the game ends and everyone decides to head back to their dorms.

A few days later, the group gathers at Luke’s place for a movie. You’re curled up in a beanbag, with Luke sitting next to you on the floor, his head resting against your seat. The movie drags on, and you find yourself nodding off.

However, your eyes quickly snap open when you feel a tap on your shoulder.

“Hey, do you want to help me make popcorn for everyone?” Luke asks softly. You nod, grateful for something to keep you awake. He stands and offers you his large hand, which you take without hesitation.

As he leads you into the kitchen, he glances back and notices you rubbing your eyes.

He laughs quietly. “Tired?”

You nod, stifling a yawn. He realizes he’s still holding your hand and quickly lets go, scratching the back of his neck. “Uh, sorry.”

“It’s fine,” you say, leaning against the counter as he grabs the popcorn supplies.

“You know, if you’re that tired, you can just crash in my room after this,” he offers casually, glancing at you.

Your eyes widen slightly. “Oh! No, you don’t have to do that.”

“I want to,” he insists, his tone genuine. “Those beanbags suck to sleep on. Trust me, I know—my brothers used to make me sleep on them when we were kids.”

You laugh softly. “Why?”

“Well I was the youngest, and sometimes I didn’t want to sleep in my own room at night…” He trails off, suddenly regretting his honesty.

“You were scared of the dark?” you tease, smile somehow looking even more amused than before.

“Monsters, actually,” he corrects, with mock indignation.

Your laughter bubbles out, the sound light and free. It’s the most you’ve laughed since coming to UMich, and Luke was beaming with pride at the sight of it.

When the popcorn is ready the two of you head back into the living room. The group eagerly grabs at the fresh bowl as you settle back into your beanbag. Unsurprisingly, not even two minutes pass before your eyes start drooping again.

A soft laugh from Luke is the last thing you register before you feel yourself being lifted. You instinctively tuck your head into the crook of his neck, his warmth lulling you further into sleep. He carries you upstairs with ease and gently lays you on his bed, carefully tucking the covers around you.

“Just get some sleep,” he murmurs quietly, mostly to himself.

As he turns to leave, you reach out and catch his hand. Your voice is soft, barely above a whisper. “Please stay,” you whisper. “You can lay with me.”

“Uh… are you sure? I can sleep on the beanbag. It’s not a big deal.” he says, hesitantly,

You frown, words laced with tired honesty. “I thought you hated sleeping on the bean bags?”

“I thought you hated when people touch you?” he counters softly, eyes searching yours.

“I do,” you admit. “But it’s okay when it’s you.”

His lips curve into a small, shy smile as he climbs into bed beside you. You waste no time cuddling into him, your head resting on his chest. One of his hands caresses your hair tenderly, while the other settles lightly on your lower back.

The two of you know this isn’t something “just friends” would do, but neither of you seem to mind. You were content with that in the moment. As you drift off to sleep, wrapped in his comforting presence, you decide the feelings you’re starting to acknowledge can wait until tomorrow.

tags: @beenucks @mainly-miracle @lukey-pookie-hughes43 @sweetestdesire @emsdevs @puckmedude @joesnumerouno @alex-wotton

join the taglist here! :)

[rosinaparker]

Hi! Hope you’re doing okay :) I was wondering if I could request Izuku being a simp, bending over backwards for whatever his (future) girlfriend wants, (she doesn’t know that), and finally he gets a push (literally) from Bakugo and he confesses his love for reader and happy ending- thank youu

“You have me wrapped around your finger”

Genre: fluff

Pairing: Izuku x Reader

Warnings: none

a/n: hii sorry that we're getting to yalls requests so late...this was one ended up being a bit sloppy excuse me for that😔🙏-Rose✩

Izuku Midoriya was known for a lot of things: being quirkless once upon a time, inheriting the power of the greatest hero in history, and muttering until his face turned red. But above all else, Izuku Midoriya was a certified simp. For you.

It wasn’t something you’d notice unless you paid close attention, which you didn’t. Not really. To you, Izuku was just your kind and reliable friend who always seemed to go above and beyond without you even asking. But to anyone else—like his classmates—it was blatantly obvious.

When you mentioned your favorite brand of tea during lunch one time? It magically appeared in his grocery bag later that week, tucked neatly next to his protein bars. If you complained about a sore shoulder after training, Izuku would “happen to have” a heating pad in his room and deliver it to you like some kind of awkward but adorable hero.

And when you asked him for little favors, he made them his entire personality.

“Midoriya, could you pick up my notebook from class? I left it on my desk.”

“Y-yeah! Of course!” he stammered, darting off at full speed like you’d just asked him to retrieve the Holy Grail.

You thought he was just sweet and thoughtful. Everyone else? They thought he was pathetic.

It wasn’t like Izuku wanted to be pathetic. It wasn’t like he woke up every morning thinking, How can I make myself look like more of a doormat today? No, he was just hopelessly in love with you and had no idea how to tell you without combusting on the spot. So instead, he did everything in his power to make your life easier—thinking maybe, just maybe, you’d notice one day.

today you had a grueling training session. You’d just finished sparring with Uraraka, looking exhausted but still smiling as you wiped sweat from your forehead. “Man, I’m wiped,” you said, turning to Izuku with a tired grin. “Think you could grab me a water bottle from the vending machine?”

“Yeah! Right away!” Izuku’s voice cracked as he sprinted off, already pulling out his wallet.

Bakugo stood nearby, watching the whole interaction with a look of pure disdain. When Izuku returned, practically tripping over himself to hand you the water bottle, Bakugo couldn’t take it anymore.

“You’re pathetic, Deku,” he sneered, stomping up to them like a storm cloud.

Izuku blinked, confused and panicked. “K-Kacchan, what are you—”

“What the hell are you doing, huh?” Bakugo barked, shoving Izuku in the chest. “Carrying her bags, fetching her water, running around like her damn servant—what are you, her personal butler now?”

Your eyes widened. “Dude chill—”

“Shut up, I’m not talking to you!” Bakugo snapped, shooting you a sharp glare before turning back to Izuku. “When are you gonna grow a spine, huh? You think doing all this crap is gonna make her like you? That she’s just gonna magically figure out you’re in love with her? You’re so damn pathetic it’s embarrassing!”

“Kacchan, stop!” Izuku tried to protest, his face bright red and his hands shaking. “It’s not—” Bakugo didn’t let him finish. With one sharp shove to the chest, he sent Izuku stumbling forward—straight into you.

“Bakugo, what the hell—!” you shouted, barely catching Izuku before he toppled over. Your hands gripped his arms tightly, steadying him as he stared at you with wide, panicked eyes.

“Go on, say it!” Bakugo barked, ignoring you completely. “Tell her, or I’ll knock it out of you myself!”

Izuku froze, his heart pounding so loudly he was sure you could hear it. You frowned, your hands still on his arms. “Tell me what? What’s he talking about, Izuku?”

The green haired boy swallowed hard, his mouth dry as he stared into your curious, worried eyes. He couldn’t keep running, couldn’t keep hiding behind excuses and small gestures. Not anymore.

“I like you!” he blurted, squeezing his eyes shut as the words tumbled out of him. “I’ve liked you for a long time, and I know I probably don’t deserve someone like you, but I just wanted to make you happy, and—”

“Midoriya,” you interrupted softly, reaching up to cup his cheek. His eyes flew open, his breath hitching as he looked at you.

“You really like me?” you asked, your voice gentle but serious.

“I do,” he whispered. “So much.”

Your lips curved into a small smile. “Good. Because I like you too.”

For a moment, Izuku forgot how to breathe. “Y-you do?”

You laughed, leaning forward to rest your forehead against his. “Yes, you idiot.”

Behind you, Bakugo rolled his eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn’t fall out. “Finally. You two are so sickening it makes me want to puke.”

Neither of you paid him any mind. For once, Izuku didn’t care what Bakugo thought. Because you liked him back—and that was all that mattered.

[kooggukk]

𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 BEYOND THE JOB // JJK

daddy jungkook (literally)

; babysitting the cutest angel on earth is the perfect job. (except when her father is fucking hot and wants all of you)

+ comment if u wnna be added to the taglist

— 1/??

“seriously though, you have to fuckin’ quit that job already.”

Sasha, who happens to be your best friend ever since you started working at the local elementary school, just lectured you again. she was already teaching there when you arrived, you spent your lunch breaks with her and even be each other’s substitute sometimes.

surprisingly, she quit a few months after that. you stayed close though. at first, she was dying to know the drama happening among the teaching staff, but as shit kept going down which included you and the principal, all you ever hear from her is that you need to quit.

it wasn’t a huge surprise to her when you first told her your boss, aka the school’s principal, asked you out. it was weird, but everyone knew he was.. a little desperate. he had asked most of the female teachers out, some who agreed could only say bad things about the experience.

you declined his offer politely, explaining that you don’t want your personal life to mix with your job. it was awkward after that, but turns out he seems to be the dumbest person on earth. he asked you out two weeks after that, again.

still to this day, he keeps asking you out over and over and you keep rejecting him over and over again. sure, he got a lil’ crush on you, sweet, right? fuck no. he’s a pervert, doesn’t know what personal space is.

“but i need the money. i don’t know where else i could get such good salary.” you told her, for the nth time.

“be a stripper,” Sasha casually said, sipping on her diet coke while your eyes widened.

“don’t say nonsense, dafuq..” you both shared a giggle, but you definitely won’t put that job idea on the bottom of your list. maybe in the middle, or top 5. if you really can’t find a good place, then gotta be top 3.

“you could be one until you save enough money, then look for a less crazy one.”

“there’s never enough money, sasha.” you sighed, fuck inflation. when you grew up and finished studying, you realized the hardest part of being an adult was money. it’s crazy how difficult it is to make a living.

“if you don’t give in your quitting notice tomorrow, i’m gonna do it for you instead.” she narrowed her eyes at you.

“i don’t want to make a decision too quick. not until i know i can find another job.”

“quit.”

“no.”

“quit.”

“no.”

“quit.”

…

“okay.”

she squealed in her chair, gaining some attention on the two of you.

“if you dare to lie to me right now, i’m gonna make you eat your own shit.”

you kicked her under the table, sending her a glare. “behave, bitch.”

┈ ⪩⪨   ┈

“oh, __! what brings you here today?” your boss, sehun immediately stood up from his chair, ready to greet you with a hug.

panicking, you reached your hand out with a paper, catching his attention. “this is..?”

“my resignation notice, sir.”

“your what?”

he took the paper from your grip, examining it carefully. his eyebrows fell together, eyes scanning every single word.

he backed up, resting on the edge of his table. he looked at the paper again, rereading the first sentence.

‘Kindly accept this letter as my formal resignation…’

“are you sure, __?” he asked, putting the paper on his table. he crossed his arms, frustration written on his face.

you fixed your hair, giving him a firm nod. “yeah, i’ve been thinking of it for a while now.”

“i’m glad i could be a part of this amazing team, but i just feel like,” you struggled to find the words, obviously you didn’t want to tell in his face.

‘aye bruh, stop bein’ a pervert and you might stop losing your workers’

“look, teaching isn’t my thing. and i feel horrible to find that out so late.”

“well, if your passion for teaching ever comes back, you’re more than welcomed here.”

“thank you,” you smiled, because even though he’s the most annoying person you’ve ever met, your co-workers have always been kind to you.

the children also love you, and you’re extremely thankful for all the support and love you got from everyone.

during the usual lunch break, you co-workers heard the news too. they all wished you the best with a hug, some getting emotional too.

officially, this was your last week working at the school.

when you got home, sasha sent you a link to an advertisement.

‘looking for a nanny’

you laughed, dialing her contact. didn’t take her long to answer, obviously. she’s always on her damn phone, even when working.

“you can’t be serious. a nanny?” you laughed, finding the idea of you with a kid ridiculous.

“have you seen the description? girl, they pay damn well!” she said, followed by her exhaling.

“didn’t you say you’re gonna stop smoking?”

“i stopped. for three hours.”

you shook your head, putting her on speaker as you clicked the advertisement.

“170.000₩?” you blurted out loud, “a day?!” sasha hummed on the other side of the call.

“told ya’..”

“that’s.. nice. woah, yeah, nice.” you mumbled as you continued to read the requirements and some important details about the job.

“give it a try.” sasha said, but your eyes caught a sentence.

“they want someone with experience, as expected.” you let out a long sigh and fell back on your bed.

“you got the experience.”

“me? sasha, i never looked after a kid-“

“you work with kids. first and second graders. and they all fuckin’ love you.”

“that’s different.” you groaned.

“it’s not. a kid is a kid. 3 year olds are just as damn annoying as 7 year olds. prove me wrong..”

you laughed, she was right. they can be a huge pain in the ass, but they have the purest soul.

“true.”

“give it a try, __.” she said again, calling you by your name. oh she’s serious serious.

“yeah, i might call tomorrow then.”

“might? no, you will.” she corrected you and you rolled your eyes.

“sure.”

you called them the next day after considering it for half a day, being the typical embarrassment, you called at the wrong time.

the man was in a hurry, so you both just quickly agree on a time to meet in person. that happened to be the day after.

you looked at the address one more time after you got off the bus, realizing it was more of a wealthy neighborhood. you only had to walk about 5 minutes until you got there, hesitantly but you pressed the bell.

a tall, young man opened the door. his skin is smooth and fair, almost perfect. his hair dark, slightly wavy which was styled in a mullet cut, longer at the back.

his choice in clothes seemed to be rich, a white ribbed polo shirt with short sleeves, causing your eyes to drop to his sleeve tattoo in a second. he paired it with black tailored trousers.

“hey, you must be __?” he asked with uncertainty and you came back to life, smiling to him.

“yeah, i am.”

“great, come in.”

he stepped aside and you walked in, taking off your shoes and jacket.

the house was oddly barely decorated, not a single picture or painting on the walls, very few plants, which you’re sure are fake plants also. the house wasn’t really colorful, most of the furnitures are bright. like beige and cream white.

“would you like a drink? water, tea, soda? maybe coffee?” he suggested as he walked in front of you, leading you to the living room.

“no, thank you.” you politely refused, feeling a little.. off in such a nice home. not something you’re used to.

you sat down on the couch, carefully not to mess the neatly placed pillows behind. god you looked so uncomfortable and awkward.

“i’d like to introduce myself again, in person this time.” he spoke as he sat down on the armchair, next to the couch.

“i’m jeon jungkook, 27. i’m a dentist in the center of seoul. i’m the father of a sweet angel, nabi. she turns 5 in a few weeks, we could say she’s in her, erm,” he struggled to find an appropriate word.

“crazy phase?” you asked with a smile.

“yeah, something like that. she’s been loud lately, that’s all.” he chuckled, resting his arms on his knees.

you nodded and held your small bag tightly, “i’d like to introduce myself better too, then.”

“i’m __, 24 and i currently work at an elementary school. i handed in my resignation letter and this is my last week as a teacher, so i’m searching for a new job currently.”

you paused, hesitant what else to say.

“elementary school? so, you work with kids?”

“yes, first and second grade.”

after a few minutes of getting to know each other more, a little girl, most likely his daughter, walked down the stairs with her sleepy appearance.

“oh!” she stopped the moment she saw you, the tiredness leaving her eyes.

“nabi, c’mere.” jungkook held out his hand, “this is __. what do you say?” he asked her, holding her tiny hands.

“hello.” she greeted you and you smiled, her shyness is adorable.

“hi.”

“__ is here because she would like to look after you.” he said and she looked up to him so fast, you thought her neck would snap.

“daddy, are you leeving me?” she gasped and jungkook chuckled at her words, shaking his head.

“no, but when i’m at work, someone needs to be here and take care of you. how about __, does she seem nice? hm?”

the little girl shrugged, hugging her father’s arm. he sent her back to the bedroom, saying he would be there soon too.

“well, she’s a little shy at first but, i think she’s gonna open up fast.” he smiled and stood up, your eyes widening a bit and you stood up too.

“does that mean, i got the job?”

“see you next monday?” he asked and you almost started jumping, but you held back. instead, you gave him a huge smile and nodded.

“monday then.”

[wordsmeetwbb]

One shot/drabble of p being obsessed with azzi's body (is p a boob or ass girl..)

Inspired by this post of p just straight up looking 😩

https://www.tumblr.com/paigebucketss/773164320108445696/lmaooo-paige-been-on-that?source=share

Stare

Word count: 770

Content: Fluff, kind of suggestive

Pairing: Pazzi

Notes: Just a short little something for y'all today :)

________

Paige couldn’t stop staring at Azzi’s ass, and everyone except for the woman in question had noticed. KK had already hit Paige twice when she saw her eyes wandering in not-so-family-friendly directions.

“Dude, please get a grip. I don’t need to see you look at my mom like that,” KK complained as she forcefully turned Paige away from Azzi.

“What’s your problem? I’m not allowed to look at my girlfriend?” Paige protested. KK scoffed.

“You call that ‘looking’? I call that eye-fucking. control yourself and have some respect for your children.” Paige could feel her cheeks warm. She pushed KK away. Even as she did, her eyes slid back to Azzi. They first dragged over her face, skin glowing as always, and a soft smile settled on her full lips. Then her eyes wandered right back down to her ass.

Azzi was wearing simple black leggings today, which was pretty typical, but she had paired them with a cropped shirt so no curve of her body was hidden from view. The slight arch of her back, the curve of her hips, the swell of her ass in those tight black pants… Paige swallowed. She was so fucked.

Azzi glanced over at Paige from where she was talking to Carol in the kitchen. Paige wouldn’t have noticed if it weren’t for the shift of her body that drew her eyes back up to her girlfriend’s face. Azzi raised her eyebrows as if to ask “What?” Paige smirked back at her. Azzi’s face scrunched in confusion, eyes flicking over to look at KK for answers.

“Girl, don’t look at me! Ask Paigey why she can’t stop staring at you!” KK exclaimed. This drew the attention of their other teammates. Azzi’s eyebrows arched once again and Paige wanted to bury her face in her hands just to avoid the embarrassment. She didn’t, though, as much as it would have been nice to not have all of her teammates see the blush on her face.

“What is everybody’s problem with me appreciating how good my girl looks, huh?” Paige asked defensively, crossing her arms over her chest. Azzi’s mouth broke into a grin.

“Because none of us want to see that! Y’all need to be gross in private!” KK said petulantly.

“Yeah, Paige, the way you look at her is really not appropriate for us all to see,” Aubrey agreed. Paige’s eyes darted around at the rest of her team, feeling absolutely betrayed.

“Okay, but she looks good!” Paige argued.

“I don’t have a problem with you looking at me,” Azzi supplied helpfully.

“Thank you!” Paige exclaimed, completely exasperated.

“None of us care what you think, Azzi,” Ice cut in. Paige groaned.

“My own children are betraying me,” she whined. Her eyes flicked up to Azzi and found that soft smile back on her lips. Paige pushed herself off the couch and marched over to Azzi, grabbing her hand and leading her to the door of the apartment.

“If y’all are just gonna bully us, we’re leaving,” she announced, pulling the door open and turning in the direction of Azzi’s apartment.

“We’re just bullying you, not Azzi!” Jana called after them as the door shut. Paige’s grip tightened on Azzi’s hand.

“They’re right,” Azzi said softly as Paige pushed the door to the apartment open.

“So what? I’m allowed to look at my girl, especially when you look as good as you do today!” Paige defended. Azzi tugged her hands free from Paige’s and brought them up to cup her face. The warmth of her skin immediately calmed Paige.

“I know, honey, but the girls don’t wanna see you stare at my ass,” Azzi soothed, fingers brushing over Paige’s jawline.

“But you have such a nice ass,” Paige whined, hands drifting down Azzi’s back to settle right on the curve of her hips, squeezing the flesh slightly. Azzi let out a soft breath.

“How about this- we’re gonna go lay on the couch and watch a movie, and you can touch my ass the whole time, and then you’re gonna agree to keep your staring to private occasions only, okay?” Azzi bargained, pushing her hips further into Paige’s grip. Paige let her hands drift a little bit lower, trying to get as much of the supple flesh in her palms as she could.

“Okay,” she mumbled, thoroughly distracted. Azzi smiled.

“Does that sound like a deal to you?” She asked. Paige’s brain was already so far out of her body from the feel of Azzi’s body in her hands that she just let her head drop to Azzi’s neck.

“Mhmm. Yeah, deal.”

[transfemme-shelterdog]

TA Testimony

Thanks for publishing these testimonies! I’m gonna send just one of my experiences, but I have so many to choose from! This one is relatively benign but illustrative I feel:

An ex friend was driving a car with me in the back seat. A cis man (afaik) cut her off, which made her angry. She turned to me and said, “Must be easy being a man!”

It was frustrating how she took her understandable anger at this man and when she couldn’t speak directly to him she directed it at me instead. I’ve noticed this happens to me a lot: a cis man does something shitty, but it would be dangerous to hold him to account so I get held accountable instead. The secret is that cis women have structural power over trans men, so they can say to us the stuff they always wished they could say to cis men but without the risk of patriarchal power punishing them for it.

I tried to push back when she said this, tried to explain that things were a lot more complicated for trans men. She interrupted me and told me I would always be her “Benny-wenny.”

I’m sick of being the sin eater for shitty cis men. I’m sick of being treated like a baby when I resist. I’m sick of transandrophobia.

.

[arkhamsbrat]

“what the fuck is wrong with you!?” they yelled at him, almost slack-jawed as he hobbled through the window of their apartment. “want that list alphabetically or chronologically?” he huffed, practically throwing himself into the dining chair closest to him.

“i’m not kiddin’, jason peter todd.” his partner snarled at him. “y’could’ve gotten yourself killed!?” jason held back an eye roll. “don’t be so dramatic, i didn’t…” he droned off when they turned on the news to show a clip of red hood being sent back nearly 50 feet by the explosion he set off himself.

“well…” he started, avoiding their gaze “well!? jesus christ!” they turned away from him, fighting to regulate their breathing, and their temper. jason had explained his life- his childhood to them. they understood why he was so damn stupid. but that didn’t make it hurt any less. “jason, you can’t run around tryin’ta kill yourself anymore. its killin’ me.”

he winced at the hurt in their voice. “c’mere..” they shook their head. “no. mad at’chya. fuckin’ idiot.” he let a small smile peak at the corners of his mouth. “can you be mad at me while i hold you?” a beat of silence passed between the two before they moved over and sat on the ground between his legs, letting his fingers comb through their hair. it was the closest thing he’d get to holding them right now.

“why do you care so much?” he whispered, free hand clutching his rib. they noticed, their hands moving to pry off his armor so they could look at his wounds. “let me see…” they whispered. “care so much because you’re my boyfriend, jason. you expect me to be okay with just sittin’ at home wonderin’ if you’re gonna come back, only to find out you died from the news?”

jason just stared at her for a moment, wheels turning in his head. “didn’t think it was that bad…” he whispered. hes not purposefully trying to get himself killed, but… he always knew it could happen again. one wrong move, too slow… it wasn’t welcomed, just expected.

had he been too reckless? yeah, probably. all the bruises and scars littered across his body were evidence of it. it never crossed his mind to think that it scared them. worried them. “i’ll be safer.” he spoke with a certain finality that they couldn’t help but trust. “ill kill y’myself if you arent.”

it would take time. a lot of it, but jason came home immensely wounded less. some of his bruises even had time to heal. he could see that their nail bed had stopped scarring over. when he came home, their weren’t crescent shaped claw marks in the fat of their arm. sometimes they looked up at him with pride glimmering in their eyes.

maybe keeping himself alive wasn’t too much to ask.

[glossykissies]

clark and his gf who’s all sad because her friends keep ditching her and he’s trying to make her feel better.

love you so much on both blogs!

i like this as bsf!clark who’s in love with you so he hangs out with you and all your girl friends and is basically apart of your group — just so he can be near to you.

you’d planned a girls night, and clark was fine with that because… well, he had stuff to do around the barn anyway. you’d been excitedly rambling about it all week — buying facemasks, ordering pizza and pulling out the best girly romcom dvds to ensure a perfect night… until they all cancelled.

you were a sweet, sensitive soul who didn’t take well to disappointment, so clark’s heart sank when the phone rang, your best friend picking up only to be met with your snivels.

“look, hey, don’t cry — i’ll come over, okay?” he coo’s, his natural instinct being to coddle you and just hope it didn’t come off as patronising. you usually seemed to like it.

“what— what about the barn? ‘said you were busy with it tonight—”

“ah, the barn can wait.” he blows it off. you can’t see him but you know he waved his hand as he said it as if to convince you even more of its unimportance. “my old man’ll understand. he thinks you’re a total angel. infact i think he’d be more mad at me if i didn’t go to see you.”

you sniff, twiddling pathetically with the phones curly wire. “well… if you’re sure…”

“completely sure. i’ll be over there as fast as i can.”

clark was a little too excited, having to convince himself not to use his super speed.

he didn’t expect you to be so upset however, ending up beside you on the couch with a hand on your back as you cried. he knew it would be rude to ask if your emotions had anything to do with your menstruation cycle, he wanted to slap himself for even thinking of it — but he wondered if that had a part to play.

“i just feel like i always put in effort with people but there’s always something more important.” you rant, swiping beneath your eyes in frustration. clark shuffles closer, tentatively placing a hand on your back.

“mhm?” he urges you on in a gentle tone, hoping to ease you into a more relaxed mood.

“i was excited.” you pout, turning to face him — seeming to be at the end of your meltdown. he presses his lips together with a sympathetic smile.

“yeah, i figured. i mean, look at all this effort you went through setting this up.” clark validates you, lifting a hand to gesture to the way you’d decorated the living room with snacks and movie options, blankets strewn across the couch creating a comfortable atmosphere. “i suppose we’ll have to enjoy it just the two of us.” he grins, mindful of his tone — not wanting to seem like he wanted to take advantage of this situation, even if he secretly did.

“you’ll even do facemasks with me?” you let a smile slip, peering up at him through wet eyelashes. he grimaces like he’s pretending to think about it as you giggle, now being the one to shuffle closer to him.

“you gonna put cucumbers on my eyes?”

“oh yes, the full spa experience.” you tease, and clark can’t help but reach up and brush the final tear off your cheek with a fond smile. you lean happily into his hand, which doesn’t go unnoticed.

“i’m lookin’ forward to it.”

clark effortlessly takes your mind off things, a natural at distracting you with dumb dad jokes, debating over pizza toppings and lastly making silly observations about the rom-com you’d landed on.

you’re sleepy — clark had noticed you always got sleepy after eating a big meal, and after tearing through copious amounts of pizza you’d allowed yourself to lay on his chest, tired eyes glued to the screen as he strokes your back, afraid to even breathe wrong incase you come to your senses and crawl off him.

you couldn’t help it, he was just so big and warm — it would be a waste for him to take up all that space and for you not to use it. you figured you were close enough to cuddle anyway, thigh cocked up in a half straddle on his lap, sleepily giggling at a point he made.

“i just don’t get why the main love interest is being played by a forty year old.” he shrugs and you chortle harder against him.

“y’so warm.” you muse out of nowhere, drunk on tiredness. it had to be nearing 2am at this point; and you’d totally let your guard down. you feel his heart skip a beat against your ear.

“uh— really? oh, well… thanks. i think?”

“s’a good thing clarkie.” you shift until you’re looking up at him, faces inches away, body to body. clark licks his lips, brows furrowed slightly as tries (and fails) not to glance at your mouth. “thank you for hanging out with me.”

“y—eah.” he rasps, voice breaking at the low volume. he clears his throat, and you take an extra second longer to look at him before dropping your head back down, body getting heavier over the minutes that pass as you slowly succumb to sleep. clark stays awake, unable to sleep a wink, too consumed by the feeling of you on top of him.

[bubybubsters]

Game day (chp. 4)

summary: in which reader is an avid studier and all she does is listen to music, study, eat, and sleep. what happens when she suddenly becomes attracted to a friend of a friend, a football player no less… not just any footballer, the quarterback that every girl fawns over

a/n: THIS CAUSED ME SO MUCH STRUGGLE I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE IT 🙏🙏🙏

previous part - series masterlist - next part

“Y/n we’re going to be late!”

“It’s 5:57 you said six!” you call back.

You hear the three sisters groan out in annoyance. You smirk, quickly scribbling your last sentences for your English essay, folding it up and tucking it into your bag. You throw on a dab of blush and grab your pre-prepared bag before heading out. 

“Y/n if we’re late you’re dead.” Nesta grits out, teeth clenched. 

You grin. “You’ll be fine, Nes.”

Elain smiles guiltily, “Did I mention we’re picking up Lucien?”

Both Feyre and Nesta groan as your grin grows. “Thank god! Someone sane!” Turning to Nesta you reach back to poke her shoulder, “Now who ya gonna kill, huh?”

She bares her teeth. “Still you!”

“Ugh whatever. You’re just salty you don’t get to have your pregame lip-tongue-dance with Cassian.”

Nesta growls, leaping at you, sitting in shotgun, from her back seat just as Elain pulls to a sudden stop. Her momentum sends her crashing head-first into Elain’s seat and her feet spread with one in Feyre’s stomach and the other splayed against the window.

You chuckle, quickly stepping out of the car. “I’ll get Lucien.”

Slamming the car door, you hurry up the stone path to the Vanserra house. As you ring the doorbell, you hear screaming and arguing from the direction of the car.

The door opens, Lucien steps out, and the door closes just as fast.

You raise a brow. “What? Can’t say hi to my favorite family nowadays?”

Lucien rolls his eyes. “Eris is back.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Y’know maybe-”

“Nope.”

You sigh. “Please Lucien. Just one dinner to get all the juicy details of his life out.”

“Nope. You never told me why you’re so interested in him anyway.”

“Call it curiosity.”

He offers his elbow, fake eye glinting for a millisecond. “Curiosity kills the cat, remember?”

You take his hand and the two of you make your way to the still-fighting sisters.

“Good thing I’m not a cat then, huh?”

“Well, it looks like they’re already closer to a cat than you.” Lucien motions to Elain, Nesta, and Feyre screaming and clawing at eachother.

You hum, opening the door. “I suppose.” 

The three sisters stop fighting immediately, Elain going brick red and gripping onto the wheel with too stiff posture.

You smile, climbing into the front seat and leaving Lucein to the back. He sends you a look of betrayal through the mirror as he climbs in next to Feyre.

Elain slams the gas and you all jolt forward.

Fifteen minutes later you’ve parked and are running for the stadium. The five of you find your reserved box seats (courtesy of Rhysand) and slump into them.

The game started ten minutes ago and the score is stil zero-zero. 

“Thank god.” Nesta sighs, eyes closing. 

“NESTA!!”

Everyone in your group groans as thousands of heads turn your way. Nesta smiles through a grimace and waves to Cassian. 

Her boyfriend is on the field, jumping up and down and waving his hands like a crazy man while the coach yells at him. You see Azriel look in your direction and you look down immediately.

“Oh?”

You glance at Lucien. “What?”

“You like him?”

“No!” He looks skeptical. “Maybe.” He smiles. “Yes fine he’s really cute and he doesn’t look like he’d bother me with stupid questions about girls.” You send Lucien a pointed look.

He blushes slightly. “You should ask him out.”

“Nope.”

“He probably likes you too.”

“Nope.”

“He’s looking this way.”

Your head shoots up, eyes instinctively finding him among the players. Your eyes meet. He waves. You stare. Lucien grabs your wrist and makes your hand wave back. You blush. You both look away.

A whistle blows and yelling starts anew. You glance at the field. Players are moving and Azriel is throwing. The ball flies into Rhysand’s outstretched hands and he takes off running. Noise fills the stadium, both boos and cheers. 

You smile, as Feyre jumps around and cheers her ass off. Grabbing a pencil and your English paper from your bag, you turn to Lucien. 

“Can you read through this?” You have to scream to be heard as the stadium absolutely erupts into cheers. 

“Touchdown!”

You glance up, clapping politely. 

Lucien grabs the paper with a nod. You can’t hear what he’s saying but his mouth is moving. You move closer. “It’s probably perfect you’re at the top of the class.”

“Make sure?”

He groans but nods, settling into his seat. 

Five minutes later he’s giving you two thumbs up and you’re taking your paper with a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you!”

Then you push him straight into Elain.

“You’re evil.” Feyre steals Lucien’s seat. Her voice sounds a little hoarse from yelling but her eyes are bright and her mouth curved up.

“He’ll be thanking me one day.” 

“Azriel definitely won’t.” She nods her head to the field and you see Azriel glaring daggers into the crowd.

“He is not looking at us.”

“Yes he is! Straight into Lucien’s back.”

“No way.”

Feyre groans and gives up just as the game starts up again. 

You sigh, eyeing the field, football wasn’t really your thing. All you know is touchdowns are good and interceptions are bad and fumbles are bad and the quarterback is Azriel. This is gonna be a long game.

An hour later, the game is finally done with a win for Velaris University. And thank the gods because that shit was boring. You walk down the field with your friends to meet the players. Feyre jumps into Rhys’s arms, both of them kissing and hugging with no end in sight. Nesta follows albeit with a little less intensity, and she and Cassian head off, likely to do some freaky ah stuff in the locker rooms.

You look around, just in time to spot Lucien and Elain split off and start a nice walk across the field while talking and laughing.

“Hey, Y/n?” A deep voice you now recognize calls out.

“Azriel.”

“Y/n.”

“Congrats on the win!” Yes, you finally said something right.

“Thanks.” He doesn’t even grace you with a smile.

Silence falls, crickets chirp.

You smile awkwardly, “Well you look… busy.” You wave to the plethora of girls squealing a distance away holding pink hearts and little gifts all with his name printed on. “I guess I’ll leave you to it?”

He blanches, complexion going white.. “Oh please no.”

Huh?

“What?”

“They’re gonna tear me apart trying to get me to date one of them, god please stay. Rhys and Cass have abandoned me now that they have girls of their own, not that that’s bad of course I’m glad they’re happy bu-”

“Azriel,” you cut him off. “I’ll stay.”

He blinks, and, slowly, the corners of his mouth turn up just the slightest. “Thank you.”

You merely link your arms and smile as you lead the two of you across the field and to the bleachers.

“Don’t worry bout it, kay?”

a/n: ask to be added!

taglist (11/45): @casiiopea2 @andrewgarfield2022 @the-onlyy-angie @thelov3lybookworm @icey--stars @blonde-bansheee @portkeytomyworld @kingshitonly @fuckingsimp4azrielk @ladyphoenixayhp @celestialgilb

[rebelliousstories]

Girl’s Night

Relationship: Emily Prentiss x Reader

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Request: No

Warnings: Fluff, Mentions of Drinking and Alcohol

Word Count: 809

Main Masterlist: Here

Criminal Minds Masterlist: Here

Summary: When Emily invites another girl to the BAU’s girl’s night, no one is expecting this girl.

Consider Donating: Here

“They’re gonna love you. Stop fussing.”

“Em, these are your friends and the ones you work with. I have a reason to be nervous.” This had been the argument for the last thirty minutes from their shared apartment to this new one.

Emily Prentiss had not only spent the last thirty minutes arguing with her girlfriend, but the better part of the day trying to convince her to come along on her annual B.A.U. girl’s night with her friends. This would be the first time that anyone from work would be meeting someone special to her. It was nerve wracking enough on that qualification enough. Not to mention the fact that she was officially coming out; Emily might be a bit more nervous than her girlfriend. But one of them had to be calm.

Holding a bottle of wine in one hand, she turned to her girlfriend. “Listen, honey, I know it seems scary right now. But they’ll love you, okay?”

“Yeah.” She replied, but did not sound convinced. Sensing this, Emily went over and captured her jaw in one hand, while planting her lips onto hers.

It got her girlfriend to calm down long enough to be stable again. Releasing her, Prentiss waited till she got a nod from the woman, before knocking on the door. A bubbly blonde yanked open the door, far too energized for how late in the day it way.

“Emily! And friend, hello. Come on in ladies.” Penelope ushered them in. Looking back at her girlfriend, the dark haired woman smiled and nodded her head towards the apartment.

“Jay-Jie, Em and her friend are here.” Garcia called out into the room. Another blonde came out to find their new guests arriving with some more wine, which got her to smile even bigger.

“Hey, glad to see the party is finally here.” JJ came around to hug Prentiss tightly before setting her sights on the new woman.

“Hi, I’m Jennifer. Everyone calls me JJ. And that bundle of unicorn sparkles is Penelope Garcia. It’s so good to meet you.” Holding out her hand, the new woman provided her name to the rest of the group.

In the meantime, Emily and Penelope were pouring the new bottle of wine to go with the rest of their snack type foods. JJ led her over to the couch, letting her take it easy for her first girl’s night. She, along with her other two friends, brought food over in waves. Popcorn, candy, pretzel bites, chips and dips; you name it, they had it.

When everyone finally planted themselves on the couch, the questions began.

“So, how do you know our fair brunette bombshell?” Garcia asked, in between bites of popcorn.

“Oh, uh…” she trailed off, looking at her girlfriend. “We met at a makeup store. I was working the counter and Emily needed help finding a new lip liner. Her old one was discontinued cause they stopped making it like ten years ago.”

Her tease made the brunette near blush as she hid her face behind her glass of wine. Emily started up just as soon as she recovered, “hey, I want to remind you that I got you to change from a flip phone to a smart one. There was no way I was going to be calling on that ancient piece of tech.”

“Yeah, sure. There was nothing wrong with my flip phone. Anyways, after I helped her find a new lip liner, she passed me her number. And from that day, it was history.” The woman shrugged, taking a sip of her wine.

“I love that she is getting some more lady friends. Honestly, the B.A.U. is a testosterone nightmare sometimes.” JJ commented, not putting too much thought into her words. However, everyone noticed how quiet the other two women got. This caused both blondes to also pause.

“Everything okay?” Jennifer asked, eyes darting between everyone in the room.

“Yeah, um, she’s not just my friend. She’s my girlfriend.” Emily stated, setting down her wine glass. There was a pause as they processed the information.

“I think we need something extra to celebrate our beloved Emil Prentiss finally getting a date! I think I’ve still got some cake in the fridge.” Garcia was gushing over this, while JJ sat there stunned.

“Is everything okay?” The woman piped up, unsure as to how her girlfriend’s colleague was taking it.

“No, yeah. I’m fine. Trust me, nothing to do with you being lesbian, I just… I’m amazed that you’re dating someone.”

“Well, believe it.” Prentiss chuckled.

However, JJ happily leaned over the coffee table towards the other woman, catching her attention. “I can tell you wonderful stories about all the different people that have tried to tame this mare.”

“Okay. You know what, I think we should be going…”

“I have cake!”

[whatiswrongwithpeople]

I keep going over the world we knew (p.2)

a player 230/ Thanos/ Su-Bong x fem!reader fic

summary: “It had always been him and her against the world. But if you've been fighting against the world for years, how do you react when you suddenly realize that your best friend has become your world?”

warnings: none really except the usual Thanos/Squid Game stuff. Maybe slightly ooc Thanos? , Written in my notes app.

note: not gonna lie, I originally planned for this to only have 2 parts BUT I decided taking my time with it and all that gives it a nice pace.

Hope you enjoy!!!

🏷️: @l5byrinth , @wpdarlingpan , @lollipopsandstuff

Part 1 <3

The night after the second game was far too quiet for Thanos to ignore the gnawing feeling that had settled in his chest ever since coming back to the dorm. He had survived the games with a cold mix of calculated precision and blasting his brain to the moon with drugs. But neither the success , nor the growing amount of money in the ever present piggy bank was enough to drown out the nagging ache in his ribs when he thought of [Y/N].

His [Y/N].

The way she moved with a sense of confidence and purpose that was simply too authentic to be fake. The way she had shut him out so quickly, eyes never seeming to truly look at him. Gods did he long for that familiar gaze to land on him. To rediscover that warmth he had once found in it. By now it had been years since Thanos had last spoken to her—since he’d ruined everything. But the memories, the raw, untouched feelings, were still there. Unforgiven. Unwavering. Never truly gone.

And as much as he hated to admit it, he couldn’t keep pretending that this wasn’t affecting him. Not even with several of his colourful pills pumping through his system.

Thanos’ eyes drifted across the darkened room, only stopping when he had found [Y/N]’s form a few beds down from his. She was sitting there, still as stone, eyes staring straight ahead with that same unreadable expression she had been wearing ever since the first game. Not a single word had passed between them since their brief interaction during the last game. But ,despite how it might seem, Thanos wasn’t stupid. He could feel the tension in the air whenever their paths crossed.

He wasn’t used to feeling this way. Especially not when his survival instincts kicked in so loudly, demanding every ounce of his energy to focus on the prize. “Win the money , pay off your debt.” had become the silent mantra in his brain. But that was the thing with [Y/N], she had always been able to pull at the strings of something deep inside him, something far more complicated than any strategy or skill. Something deeply ,deeply personal.

“Hey do you think I could-“ Nam-Guy -or whatever his name was- popped into Thanos’ field of vision. With an annoyed sigh, the purple haired player stood up. “Not now.” He muttered, putting both of his hands on the boy’s shoulders, turning him to the bed next to his. “Talk to him instead.” Baffled Nam-Gyu looked over his shoulder, surprise in his voice as he exclaimed a “What-“. But Thanos was already halfway across the room, shoes making quiet thuds against the floor as he made his way over to [Y/N]’s cot.

“You know,” Thanos came to a halt on one of the lower steps that rested between the beds, resting his arms on [Y/N]’s mattress as he propped up his head. Thanos’ voice was calm. Almost too calm to [Y/N]’s ears, judging by the gravity of the situation they had found themselves in. “Staring at the wall isn't going to change anything."

Thanos leaned against the bed frame, his usual cocky smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as he watched [Y/N]. She was sitting still as a stone with an expression colder than ice. Not once had she bothered to look at him since he had approached her bed, and that infuriated him.

“Are you really gonna sit there like you don’t know who I am?” he drawled, his voice dripping with a mixture of amusement and annoyance. “You know, I’m starting to feel like a ghost. And I’m not really the type to fade into the background, you know?”

[Y/N] fought the urge to roll her eyes, choosing to ignore the purple haired pain-in-the-ass who she had once called her best friend.

“Well, if it helps, I can try and get a little more dramatic,” Thanos said, pushing himself off the bedframe in order to lean in closer, reducing the distance between them. “Maybe I’ll do a little tap dance or something. You seem like you’d appreciate the effort.”

At that [Y/N] finally glanced at him, but only for a brief moment, before turning her gaze back to the wall. "You’re a real piece of work, Su-Bong," she muttered under her breath, but still loud enough for him to catch the venom in her words. He chuckled.

“Yeah, I know. I’m one of a kind.” His voice was playful, but there was an edge to it, a challenge in his tone. “And I’m starting to think you don’t even remember who I am anymore.” [Y/N] shot him a glance, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Oh, I remember exactly who you are, Su-Bong. And that's the problem."

The words hit him like a splash of cold water, but he refused to let it show. He leaned in closer, deliberately invading her space, his eyes gleaming with that familiar cockiness. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

She met his gaze with a fiery intensity. “It means that you left. You walked away, and I’m still here, cleaning up your mess. So yeah, I remember you. And I remember how it felt to have you pull away like I meant nothing.”

Thanos laughed, but it was dry, forced. “Jesus, you’ve got a way with words, don’t you? You know, I thought you’d be more fun to mess with, but I forgot how good you were at throwing guilt trips. Really good.”

“Guilt trips?” [Y/N] turned her body to face him fully now, her eyes flashing with a mix of fury and sheer hurt. “No, Su-Bong, this isn’t about guilt. It’s about the fact that you’re standing there, pretending like it’s all fine now, when you did leave. You disappeared, and now you expect everything to just magically go back to how it was? Is that it? You think I’ve been sitting here waiting for you to waltz back in with your pretty purple hair and expect me to just forgive you?”

Thanos smirked. “I don’t expect anything from you. But you might want to reconsider that little attitude of yours. It’s really not helping the situation.”

“You think I care about your situation?” she snapped, her voice louder. “You think I’ve been sitting here, all starry-eyed, just waiting for you to get your shit together? Newsflash: I’m done doing that. I’m done with you, Su-Bong.”

The weight of [Y/N]’s words hung heavy in the air, the tension between the estranged pair was palpable. Thanos was about to speak again, something sharp and cutting on the tip of his tongue, when the loudspeaker's monotone voice sliced through the silence, calling the players to line up for food.

Without as much as a glance, [Y/N] brushed past Thanos as though he were invisible, the force of her shoulder knocking him slightly off balance. Her gaze was firmly locked onto the middle of the room as she began walking toward the food line, every step measured, holding that unwavering confidence.

For a moment, Thanos stood there, frozen in place. The argument had been abruptly interrupted, but the sting of her words and her rejection lingered in the air like smoke. As the others began to shuffle toward the line, he realized there was nothing left to say—at least, not now. The silence between them was louder than any argument ever could be.

[jenosonlywife23]

Hoodie-Tee

Lowkey got pissed while proofreading this hehe!!! Anyway Jeno is so cute teehee!!

The sun was shining brightly, the perfect weather for a picnic. A light breeze carried the laughter of your group as you all sat on a checkered blanket, snacks and drinks scattered everywhere. Jaemin was laying on his back, staring at the clouds. Haechan was cracking jokes, making everyone double over with laughter, while Chenle munched on a bag of chips, giving commentary on everything.

You were seated beside Jeno, comfortably leaning against him as you picked at some fruit. Things were perfect—until Arin shivered and caught Jeno’s attention.

“Are you cold?” Jeno asked, already shrugging off his hoodie before she could respond.

Your eyes narrowed slightly. Oh, really?

“I’m fine, but—”

“Here,” Jeno said, draping his hoodie over her shoulders.

“Thanks, Jeno,” Arin said with a smile that lingered a little too long for your liking.

Chenle, ever the observant one, glanced at you with raised eyebrows, his chewing slowing as if he were watching a drama unfold. You pursed your lips, trying to keep your composure. It wasn’t Arin’s fault, but it still stung. Jeno’s hoodies were your thing, something he always reserved for you.

He should know that.

When Jeno leaned toward you with a bright grin, holding up a strawberry like he was offering you a gift, you turned your head away.

“Not hungry,” you mumbled, folding your arms across your chest.

Jeno blinked, confused. “You sure? You love strawberries.”

“I’m sure.”

Haechan looked over, sensing the tension. “Uh-oh, trouble in paradise?” he teased.

“Shut up, Haechan,” you snapped, a little sharper than intended.

Jaemin finally sat up, rubbing his eyes like he’d just woken from a nap. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” you and Jeno said in unison, though your tone was far less convincing.

Chenle, still munching his chips, leaned closer to you and whispered, “You okay? You’re looking a little… stormy.”

“I’m fine,” you muttered, though your clenched jaw said otherwise.

Jeno reached for your hand, but you pulled it away, grabbing a drink instead. He frowned, his confusion growing by the second.

“What’s wrong?” he asked softly, leaning closer.

“Nothing,” you said, plastering on a fake smile. “I’m just peachy.”

Jeno tilted his head, his gaze searching yours. “Did I do something?”

Finally, a clue. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. “Nope. Not at all.”

Haechan snickered. “Bro, she’s mad at you.”

“I’m not mad!” you insisted, though your voice was a little too loud.

“Yeah, you’re not mad,” Chenle chimed in, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

Jeno looked between you and Arin, clearly trying to piece things together. When it finally clicked, his eyes widened. “Wait, are you upset because I gave her my hoodie?”

You stayed silent, sipping your drink aggressively.

“Babe…” Jeno started, but you cut him off.

“It’s fine, Jeno. It’s just a hoodie.”

“But—”

Before he could finish, you grabbed him by the wrist, yanked him toward you, and put him in a light headlock, your strength catching him off guard.

“My hoodie. My thing,” you muttered close to his ear, your voice low and sharp.

Jaemin burst out laughing, nearly toppling over. Haechan was cackling so hard he had to hold his stomach, while Chenle simply gave you a slow clap.

“Okay, okay! I get it!” Jeno said, his voice muffled as he tried to wiggle out of your hold. “You’re gonna mess up my hair!”

“Good,” you said, finally letting him go.

He turned to face you, his cheeks flushed and his hair slightly mussed. “I didn’t know it meant that much to you.”

“Well, now you do,” you said, crossing your arms.

Jeno reached for your hand again, this time gripping it firmly when you tried to pull away. “I’m sorry,” he said, his tone earnest. “I didn’t mean to make you upset. My hoodies are yours, okay? Only yours.”

“Damn right,” you muttered, though the corners of your lips twitched upward.

Arin, oblivious to the drama, returned the hoodie with a sheepish smile. “Thanks again, Jeno. I’m fine now.”

“Yeah, no problem,” Jeno said, though he didn’t even glance her way. His full attention was on you, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Forgive me?”

You sighed, finally relenting. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

He grinned, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your cheek. “And you’re scary when you’re jealous.”

“You haven’t seen scary yet,” you teased, though you couldn’t hide the smile creeping onto your face.

As the group dissolved into more laughter, Chenle leaned over and whispered, “That was better than any K-drama.”

“Shut up, Chenle,” you said, though you couldn’t help but laugh along with him.