Lukehughez - Tumblr Blog

fuck!

Do I even need to say anything? Are we all thinking the same thing?

Luke and Quinn, consider me even more endeared by you two.

𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐒 | 𝐋𝐔𝐊𝐄 𝐇𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐄𝐒

summary: this slope is treacherous, this path is reckless. this slope is treacherous and you like it.

warnings: loosely based on 'treacherous' by taylor swift, childhood friends to lovers, heated make out, luke & reader being awkward a little bit, appearances from jack, quinn, mark, and ethan

word count: 5.06k

notes: literally the longest thing i've ever written omg but i hope you guys enjoy!!

The summer sun blazed down on the lake house, casting bright rays onto the water and the worn-down wooden dock, where you and Luke sat side by side, your fingers inches apart but never touching. The shimmering lake stretched out before you, a mirror reflecting the clear blue sky and the occasional ripple from a passing boat. It was the familiar scene of your summers, but this summer felt different — more charged, more intense.

You and Luke had always been inseparable since childhood. The backyard games, the bike races down the hill, the late-night chats under the stars—those moments had forged a bond that felt unbreakable. But beneath the surface of that easy camaraderie, there had always been something more—a secret, unspoken longing that neither of you had dared to voice. As you both grew older, the simple crushes you had harboured blossomed into something more profound, but you both chose to keep those feelings hidden, afraid of ruining the one relationship that had always been your rock.

This summer, as you and Luke reunited at the lake house, the tension between you was palpable. The familiar comfort of your shared experiences was now tinged with a new, almost unbearable intensity. Every look you exchanged seemed to linger longer than usual, every touch felt more significant. The boundary between friendship and something more had become increasingly blurred, and it was becoming harder to ignore.

One morning, as you were in the kitchen making breakfast, Luke appeared in the doorway. His presence was as familiar as the morning sun, but today, there was something different in his eyes—an earnestness that made your heart race.

“Hey, wanna go on a boat ride with me?” he asked, his voice casual but with an undertone that you couldn’t quite place.

You glanced up from your toast, meeting his gaze. “Yeah, sure,” you replied, a slight smile tugging at your lips as you finished buttering your piece of toast. “Quinn and Jack coming?”

“No, no,” he said shaking his head, a small smile tugging on his lips. “Just me ‘n you.”

The simplicity of his offer was almost too loaded to process. You could feel the heat of the sun on your skin and the way the space between you seemed to shrink. You nodded, feeling a mix of excitement and nervous anticipation.

“Y-yeah sounds good,” you say. “Just let me finish breakfast and then I’ll go get ready.”

“Of course, take your time,” Luke said, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer before he turned and left the kitchen. You finished your breakfast in a daze, your mind racing with thoughts about the boat ride.

After breakfast, you quickly changed into your swimsuit, grabbing a hoodie from the pile of clothing that accumulated on the armchair in the corner of your room. You examined it quickly, realizing it was one of Luke’s Michigan hoodies that you had borrowed earlier in the week during a bonfire.

You found Luke waiting at the dock, the boat bobbing gently in the water. “Ready?” he asked, his voice steady as he helped you onto the boat.

“Yeah,” you replied, settling into one of the seats. The boat ride started out in comfortable silence, the only sounds being the hum of the engine and the lapping of water against the hull. As the boat moved further out onto the lake, Luke kept glancing at you, his eyes flicking from the water to your face as if he were trying to gauge your mood.

It wasn’t until you approached the tiny, rocky island, that you realized where Luke was taking you. It was the small island you’d found when just after Luke had gotten his boater’s licence. It had become your own little private oasis that the two of you would visit just to relax, using the privacy of the space to talk about whatever had been bothering you or whatever was on your mind.

Luke put the boat in neutral, allowing it to slowly float up to the rocky shore. He hopped out, steadying it before the bottom would scrape, then turned to you. "Hand me the anchor."

You obliged, tossing the towels to him first, then reaching for the small anchor. As you handed it over, Luke teased, “Not too heavy for you?”

You rolled your eyes behind your shades. “It’s like 13 pounds, Luke. Fuck off.”

He snorted, taking it from your hands and lodging it on a nearby rock. “Here, take my hand so you don’t fall on your face.” Luke said, extending his hand to help you down onto the shore.

You rolled your eyes at his comment, though Luke couldn’t see that behind your shades. You grabbed his hand, feeling the heat of the sun still clinging to his skin. As you hopped down, your foot slipped on the wet surface, and for a split second, you thought you were about to fall face-first into the water.

But Luke’s grip tightened, his other hand reaching out to catch you by the waist, steadying you before you could stumble any further. “Don’t worry, I got you,” he murmured, his voice soft, yet steady.

Your heart skipped a beat, and as you stood there for a moment, pressed against him, you could feel the tension thick between you. “Thanks,” you breathed out, stepping back once you found your balance, though the warmth of his hand lingered.

You moved to the towels Luke had tossed onto the sun-warmed rocks moments ago, straightening one out and lying on it, putting your arm over your eyes. Luke lingered by the boat a moment longer, watching you, his heart still pounding. He took a deep breath and sat beside you, staring out at the water, wondering how much longer he could pretend nothing had changed.

You sat in silence, the birds cawing in the air and the splashing water providing a nice background noise. Luke glanced over at your body lying just a foot away from him, your tanned skin glistening under the beating Michigan sun. Luke couldn’t take his eyes off of you. He felt dirty for staring at you like this; staring at your chest that was just barely covered by a teal bikini, rising and falling rhythmically as you breathed. Your stack of gold necklaces rested on your clavicle and Luke couldn’t fight off the thoughts about marking your collarbone with lovebites.

“I missed this,” you said suddenly, Luke snapping his head forward to focus on the water that lapped steadily against the shore.

He swallowed hard, trying to shake the heat that consumed him — not just from the sun, but from the way his mind was racing. “Missed what?”

“This,” you replied with a soft smile, lifting a hand to gesture around. “The lake, the sun, the quiet… just being here. It feels like nothing else matters for a while, you know?”

Luke let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He dared to glance over at you again, this time his eyes landing on your head — your eyes were still covered by your arm, but he had the perfect view of your plump lips, as well as the way the sunlight caught in your hair, making it shine like it was woven with gold.

Luke shifted uncomfortably, forcing his eyes to the water once again, trying to ignore the fire burning inside him. He wanted to say something — anything — to break the silence, but his mind was a mess, tangled with everything he’d been holding back for so long.

“I get that,” he finally managed, his voice quiet. “Feels like… everything else just disappears out here.”

You nodded, still lying back with your arm draped over your eyes. “Yeah, exactly. No distractions. Just us.”

The simplicity of your words hit him harder than he expected. “Just us.” Luke bit the inside of his cheek, knowing full well how dangerous those two words felt right now. He was suddenly acutely aware of how close you were — the soft rise and fall of your chest, the small space between your bodies.

You sat up, stretching your arms over your head, the movement catching Luke’s attention again. You glanced at him, your eyes hidden behind sunglasses but the tension was palpable. “You okay?”

Luke nodded a little too quickly. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.”

“You sure?” You tilted your head, watching him curiously.

Luke’s eyes involuntarily traced your face, landing on your lips a moment longer. Your breath hitched, the air between you charged with something unspoken but very real. “Yeah… really good.”

And just like that, the distance between you vanished.

It happened fast, almost like you both decided at the same moment. One second you were staring at him, heart racing, and the next his lips were on yours, the kiss electric and urgent. You didn’t know who moved first, and you didn’t care.

All the years of restraint, of not crossing the line, melted away as your lips moved together. Your hands found Luke’s curls, tugging on them slightly which elicited a groan from him. You moved onto his lap, no longer oblivious to the physical toll you had taken on Luke. His hands hesitated at first, but then they slid down your sides, his touch searing. He traced down your ribcage, onto your waist, then finally settled on your ass.

The kiss deepened, both of you getting lost in the moment as the years of pent-up tension finally released in waves. You tugged on his roots, causing him to squeeze your ass tightly, a low grumbling coming from his throat. Your fingers untangled from his brown locks, tracing down Luke’s shoulders and onto his torso, feeling the curves of his abs under your fingertips. Luke shivered beneath you despite the burning sun that shone down.

You finally pulled back, the both of you gasping for air, your chests rising and falling rapidly. Your gaze dropped to his slightly swollen lips, then to his bare chest glistening in the sunlight. The intensity of the moment suddenly caught up to you — his hands still gripping your ass, his body warm and hard beneath yours. You realized the position you were in, straddling him, looking dishevelled as one of your bikini straps had slipped down your shoulder, exposing a deep tan line.

Luke’s eyes followed the movement, his pupils blown wide as he swallowed hard. The weight of everything you two had held back over the years came crashing down on him. His grip on your waist loosened, his hands hovering as he was unsure of what to do next. You felt the tension in the air shift, both of you realizing you’d crossed a line that you couldn’t un-cross, no matter how badly the two of you have wanted to all along.

“Oh, God,” you whispered, your eyes wide as you pulled back slightly. “What did we just do?”

Luke ran a hand through his hair, looking as freaked out as you felt. His cheeks were flushed, though you couldn’t tell if it was from the kiss or the heat. “I don’t know. I—” He looked down, then back at you. “Does this change everything?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted, your mind racing with all the implications of what just happened. “I…we should head back.”

You swung your leg back over Luke, standing up and quickly walking back towards the boat. You grabbed your hoodie and threw it on despite the heat, feeling like you needed to cover yourself, needing something to hide behind. Luke sat there for a moment longer, his heart pounding in his chest as he watched you retreat. He ran his hands over his face, trying to make sense of what happened, but the feeling of your body pressed against his lingered too heavily. His mind was a mess of excitement and confusion, with lingering sentiments of regret as he couldn’t help but feel that everything was screwed now. Luke stood up quickly, jogging to catch up to you, but the air between you was thick and awkward now.

The boat ride back to the lake house was silent, and the roar of the motor made it easy for neither of them to face the reality of the situation. You sat in the front hold, knees tucked to your chest, staring out at the water as it splashed against the sides of the boat, stray droplets hitting your skin. Luke sat in the driver's seat, gripping the wheel a little too tightly, sneaking glances at you every few seconds.

As the lake house came into view, you stood up quickly, ready to jump out as soon as you were close enough to the dock. Your heart was still racing, no longer from excitement, but from the overwhelming sense of reality that had come crashing down. All the unspoken tension, all the nights you spent wondering if this would ever happen, it had—too fast, too soon. You didn’t know how to face it, how to face Luke.

The second the boat docked, you jumped out onto the wooden pier, barely pausing to steady yourself. You grabbed the rope, helping Luke quickly tie up the boat, before starting up the dock towards the house.

Luke hopped out, following you closely. “Wait, can we talk for a sec?” he called after you, his voice shaky, filled with desperation.

But you were already halfway to the house, your footsteps quickening. “I…I need a minute, Luke,” you replied without turning around, feeling your chest tighten with the weight of everything.

Luke stood there for a moment, watching you disappear inside. His shoulders slumped in defeat as he ran a hand through his hair again, frustrated with himself. He knew that something had changed between you before this but now this was something that was going to be impossible to ignore.

Inside the house, you hurried up the stairs to your room, closing the door softly behind you before sinking onto the edge of the bed. Your heart was still pounding, not from the brisk walk you’d just done to escape Luke, but instead as you replayed the kiss in your head — how natural it had felt, how long you had waited for it, and yet how terrifying it was now that it had happened. You buried your face in your hands, trying to slow the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you.

As the sun set over the lake, the tension between you and Luke didn’t go unnoticed by the others at dinner. You didn’t sit in your normal spots next to each other, instead sitting at opposite ends of the table, avoiding eye contact, and only speaking when necessary. You kept in conversation with Mark, bringing up just about anything you could think of to avoid interacting with Luke. The energy felt heavy, and no one could ignore how different things seemed between you two.

After dinner, it didn’t take long for the others in the house to confront you and Luke about what had happened that afternoon. Luke found himself outside on the back porch with Quinn and Jack, while you were cornered inside playing pool with Mark and Ethan.

Quinn and Jack watched as their little brother swirled his glass over and over, the sound of the liquid sloshing and the crickets chirping being the only sounds around them. Quinn leaned back in his chair, studying his brother carefully. His bottom lip was bright red from how hard Luke had been chewing on it, his eyes unfocused on the glass in his hand. Luke, uncharacteristically, hadn’t said anything in about 10 minutes. Normally he’d find a way to get his two cents in during every conversation, but his silence was overwhelming

“Alright, what’s going on? You and y/n have been acting weird all evening.” Quinn finally asked, honestly a bit weirded out by his brother’s behaviour.

Jack chimed in, less tactful than Quinn. “Yeah, man, did something happen on the boat? You’ve both been all… tense since you came back.”

Luke snapped his eyes off his cup, and onto his brothers whose eyes were burrowing into him. He hesitated, running a hand through his messy curls, his heart still racing from earlier. He couldn’t seem to get it to slow down. “I, uh… I made a move.” Luke admitted quietly. “I kissed her, I mean… We, uh, kissed.”

Quinn raised an eyebrow, glancing at Jack, who smiled and nodded in approval at his brother. “Finally,” he grinned. “So… was it everything you’ve ever hoped for? Did it live up to your fantasies that you’ve been dreaming of since you were fifteen?”

Luke knew Jack was poking fun at him, but as he replayed the kiss in his head, he realized it was. “It was… intense,” Luke said, choosing his words carefully. “We were chatting and then I just kissed her. Her lips… it felt like there was nothing around us when I kissed her. But…”

Luke trailed off, sinking back into his chair as the events that immediately followed replayed in his head.

“But what?” Jack probed.

Luke sighed, feeling the weight of his doubts. “After we pulled apart, I freaked out. All I could think was that I’d just ruined everything between us. I like her a lot… but I didn’t think she felt the same. And… and now I’m worried our friendship is done.”

Quinn let out a little sigh, a small smile tugging on his lips at his little brother. “Look, if it came to that point, that the two of you got close enough to make out, then it means she probably feels the same way,” Quinn said, leaning forward in his chair. “You’re not going to ruin what you two have. I promise that your friendship is strong enough to survive this.”

Jack, more relaxed, shrugged. "Yeah, you clearly like each other. Just talk to her."

Inside, the sound of pool balls clacking loudly filled the air, and no conversation was exchanged between the three of them. Mark and Ethan exchanged silent looks that were traced with unspoken words, urging the other to break the ice and ask you about what had transpired on the boat. Finally, Ethan gave in to Mark’s coaxing stares.

“So uh,” Ethan started, drawing your eyes onto him. “You gonna tell us what the fuck happened on the boat?”

Your fingers stilled on the pool cue, hesitating as you glanced between him and Mark, who was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. Your heart thudded uncomfortably in your chest. Mark and Ethan’s eyes bore into you, expecting answers you didn’t even have for yourself. The tension from earlier had followed you inside, wrapping around your chest like a vice.

You straightened up, brushing a hand through your hair as you tried to collect your thoughts. “I… I kissed him,” you admitted, feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over you. “Or maybe he kissed me. I don’t know… it just happened.” You let out a sigh, biting your bottom lip.

Mark raised an eyebrow, nodding slowly. “Okay, you kissed, big fucking whoop,” he said, taking a step forward. “Explain to me, then, why are you both acting like someone just died?”

Ethan snorted, leaning his cue against the table. "Yeah, seriously. It’s not like anyone’s surprised. You’ve had this thing between you for… what? Years?"

But to you, it felt like something had. Not a person, but something sacred between you and Luke—something that had been built carefully over years of knowing one another. You had always skirted the edges of something more, but you’d never let yourselves tip over. Until today. And now everything felt fragile like the ground beneath your feet was unstable.

“It’s not that simple. Luke and I… I mean we’ve always been friends. We never crossed that line, even when it felt like we were close. And now… I don’t know. I feel like I messed it all up.”

Ethan scoffed. “Messed it up? You didn’t mess anything up. You guys finally did something that everyone’s been telling you to do for ages. Hell, it’s about time.”

Mark chimed in, his tone a bit more understanding. “Listen, I know it’s scary now that you think your friendship’s changed, but from what I’ve seen, I don’t think anything’s ruined. I think this is something you’ve both wanted for a while. You’ve always liked each other, even if you both pretended not to.”

You looked down, fingers tapping nervously against the side of the pool table. “What if he doesn’t feel the same way?” you whispered, voicing the fear that had been gnawing at you since the moment you left the boat. “I mean, I… I basically jumped on him. What if I made things awkward for him?”

Mark rolled his eyes, walking over to stand beside you. “Trust me, if Luke had a problem with it, he would’ve said something by now. You didn’t force anything. From what it sounds like, he was just as into it as you were.”

Ethan nodded in agreement. “Exactly. Don’t overthink it. He’s probably freaking out just as much as you are. Just talk to him.”

You sighed, knowing deep down that they were right, but the anxiety still clawed at your insides. “I don’t want to ruin our friendship,” you admitted quietly. “We’ve been close for so long… if this messes things up, I don’t know how I’ll deal with it.”

Ethan couldn’t help but roll his eyes. No matter how many times they reassured you that your friendship wouldn’t be ruined, it was clear that your anxieties were getting the best of you. “You won’t ruin anything. I’ve seen how Luke looks at you. That guy is all in, even if he doesn’t realize it yet.”

You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, nibbling on it anxiously. As their words sunk in, you couldn’t help but glance toward the back door, where you knew Luke was with his brothers. The thought of confronting him, of actually talking about what had happened, still terrified you. But deep down, you knew it was the only way to move forward.

Mark and Ethan’s advice echoed in your mind: Talk to him. It was scary, but you couldn’t deny the spark that had ignited between you and Luke. Maybe, just maybe, there was something more waiting for you both on the other side of this conversation.

After the conversation wound down, you couldn't help but feel the lingering tension between you and Luke. Even though Mark and Ethan’s reassurances helped ease some of your worries, the knot of uncertainty in your chest remained. It gnawed at you, the same question echoing over and over in your mind: What if this changes everything?

As the house settled into its quiet evening rhythm and the sounds of conversations faded into the background, your thoughts were still consumed by that kiss — how everything had felt so right in the moment, yet so terrifying in its aftermath. You and Luke had always danced around the possibility of something more, but now that it had finally happened, the reality of it weighed heavy on you.

Later that night, sleep refused to come, your mind running wild with the events of the day. You lay there in the quiet of your room, replaying the kiss over and over again. Every brush of Luke’s lips against yours, every touch of his hands, the way his breath had quickened as he held you close. The intensity of it all made your heart race, but so did the fear that followed.

You glanced at the clock: it was well past midnight, but sleep was the last thing on your mind. Instead, your thoughts turned to the advice Mark and Ethan had given you. Talk to him, they said. But what if talking only made things worse? What if everything fell apart? Yet, despite the fear gnawing at you, one truth remained clear: you couldn’t ignore this. You couldn’t pretend the kiss hadn’t happened or that it hadn’t meant anything. You needed to talk to Luke.

Taking a deep breath, you pushed back the covers and swung your legs over the edge of the bed, your heart pounding as you quietly made your way to the door. The moment you turned the handle and pulled it open, you froze.

Luke stood there, his hand raised as if he was about to knock, his blue eyes wide in surprise. “Oh!” you gasped.

“I was just coming to talk to you,” he said, his voice soft and uncertain. “Can I come in?”

You nodded, stepping aside to let him in. The air between you felt heavy with anticipation, and as Luke entered, the awkward tension that had been present all evening seemed to follow. You both sat on the edge of the bed, keeping a small but noticeable distance between each other. The silence was deafening as you each tried to find the right words to start.

“So…” you started, breaking the tension. “About earlier.”

“Yeah,” Luke muttered, glancing at you before looking down again. “That was… intense.”

You let out a small laugh, though it was more out of nerves than humour. “Yeah. It was.”

Luke rubbed the back of his neck, looking like he was struggling to find the right words. “I’m sorry I freaked out. I didn’t mean for it to… you know, get weird.”

You shook your head quickly. “No, it wasn’t just you. I was freaking out too. I mean, we’ve been friends for so long, and I didn’t know if this would… ruin that.”

Luke’s eyes finally met yours, and there was something vulnerable in his gaze. “I thought the same thing. But… I think we’re making this more complicated than it needs to be.”

You fought a smile that was grappling to show, needing to hear Luke say it. “What do you mean?”

Luke swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “I want us to be more than friends. I’ve wanted it for a long time, but I didn’t think you felt the same. But after today…” He trailed off, his words hanging in the air.

“I do,” you whispered. “I’ve felt the same way for a while. I just didn’t know how to say it.”

Relief washed over Luke’s face, and a small smile tugged at his lips. A matching smile formed on your lips as you thought for a moment. “How do we move forward? Like… as more than friends,” you asked.

“I think we just stay the same,” Luke shrugged. “Except now I can call you my girlfriend, and I can kiss you, and we can have sex.”

You laughed, feeling some of the tension melt away. “Is that all?”

“Yeah,” Luke replied with a grin, leaning closer. “Is that okay with you?”

Your breath hitched as the space between you shrank. “Yeah. It’s more than okay.”

Without another word, Luke leaned in, and this time, when your lips met, there was no hesitation. All the years of restraint, of not crossing the line, melted away as your hands found his curls, tugging them gently. A low groan escaped him as you moved into his lap, feeling the heat between you intensify. His hands slid down your body, resting on your waist before moving lower, gripping you as he pulled you closer. You could feel every inch of him beneath you, the warmth of his skin against yours. The world outside faded away, and all that mattered was the two of you, finally letting go of everything you’d been holding back.

The weight of the uncertainty that had been sitting between you all evening lifted, replaced by a dizzying sense of relief and excitement. Luke's hands gripped your hips firmly, grounding you in the moment. You could feel his heartbeat against your chest, fast and erratic, matching the wild rhythm of your own. The connection between you had always been there, simmering beneath the surface, but now it was tangible, electric, and you couldn’t get enough of it.

Luke’s lips moved against yours with a sense of urgency, wanting to taste every bit of you. His hands slid up your sides, fingers brushing your skin under your shirt, leaving goosebumps in their wake. You let out a soft sigh against his lips.

Pulling back slightly, you caught your breath as you both took a moment to come back to reality. Luke’s hands stayed on your waist, his thumbs gently brushing your skin, as if he didn’t want to let go.

“I can’t believe we waited this long,” Luke whispered, his breath warm against your lips.

You laughed softly, reaching up to his curls and gently running a hand through them. “I know, it feels kind of crazy, right?”

He chuckled, a low sound that sent a pleasant shiver down your spine. “We’re idiots. Could’ve saved ourselves a lot of trouble.”

You smiled, scanning his eyes. There was something different in them now—no more hesitation, no more uncertainty. Just Luke, as you had always known him, but also something more. “Better late than never, though,” you teased softly.

Luke's hands moved up to cup your face, his thumbs brushing gently across your cheeks. “You know, I meant what I said earlier,” he whispered. “I’ve wanted this for a long time. I just didn’t think you’d ever want me like that.”

You blinked, feeling your heart squeeze at his vulnerability. “Luke, I’ve always wanted you,” you admitted quietly, your voice shaking just slightly. “I just… I was scared.”

His gaze softened, and he leaned forward to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “I get it. I was scared too. But I’m not scared anymore.”

You smiled, feeling a rush of warmth flood your chest at his words. “Me either,” you whispered, brushing your fingers through his curls. “I’m not scared anymore.”

The moment cooled down, and you both slipped into a comfortable silence, basking in the newfound closeness. You moved up the bed and under the covers, wrapping yourselves in each other’s arms. The steady rise and fall of Luke’s chest and the soft sound of crickets outside lulled you into a sense of peace. With his hand gently tracing up and down your side, you nodded off, feeling the weight of all the years and uncertainty melt away, leaving only the warmth of the present.

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Hello enjoy this collection of pookie gifs I’ve made over the past few months hehe

wrong jersey, but we still love you uncle ej | col vs buf | 12.13.23

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NICO BINGO

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horns down | joe burrow

summary - After your college sweetheart of two years cheats on you, your friends convince you it’s time for a rebound—in the messiest way possible.

pairings - Fem!TigerGirReader x LSU!Joe

warnings: language, angst, fluff, cheater, alcohol, drugs, physical fighting (not abuse!), SMUT 18+ (MINORS DNI!), THE SLOWEST OF SLOWBURNS!!!!, Dom!Joe and Sub!Reader on the lowest of keys

a/n: Oh hey! Here's a lil LSU Joe fic hehehe. This fic is a prime example of me trying to keep it simple and creating too much plot smh. Literal yap. Idk if this is how college athlete shit works don’t sue me.

If you want to listen to the song mentioned in the chapter, its Finish Line by Delaney Bailey (start at about 0:57)

word count: 30.7k yikes

If whoever created the five stages of grief is right, you have to sit and wonder just how long depression is supposed to last, because anything is better than crying yourself to sleep for all but a few hours of actual rest.

You’d met broad, charming, confident Cam in late July, when both the football team and LSU Tiger Girls came to campus early to start practices for the season. Of course both of your teams were somewhat intertwined, with a few shared practice spaces, sociable team lunches, and occasional joined travel accommodations for away games. After jumping into whatever clique you could hang on to, you managed to meet him, a lean defensive back hailing from somewhere in Texas. The tall, slick, nonchalant motherfucker. 

After about a month of sneaking glances through sweaty workouts, pointing at each other from across Death Valley, and post-practice pizza hangouts, you officially started dating Cam about a week into actual classes. You cursed at yourself over and over again for getting in a relationship almost immediately upon coming to college. Your gut always told you, I have so many people to meet! Am I really going to settle on the first guy? Everyone who does this gets screwed!

You should have listened to your gut.

Finding Cam nose deep in some Zeta’s pussy when you forgot your dance bag in his apartment wasn’t exactly your ideal way to learn this lesson, but it got the message across loud and clear.

It’s now been your most gruesome start to a season yet. The worst part is that it’s not even about the suicides you have to run in the Louisiana heat or the two minute planks held with weights on your back—those feel like nothing compared to the overwhelming pit of nausea that slices through your stomach when you simply sense Cam in the vicinity. Currently, you can barely even stand on the right side of the bright, mirror-ful LSU dance studio knowing he’s with the guys on the other side of the wall picking up and slamming down weights. A particularly loud thud of workout equipment from that room sends a jolt through your body, eyes snapping up to Coach Kandace mid sentence. 

“You need to move together on that beat, not even a millisecond behind…” She demands with a snap of her fingers. 

Practice has always helped you work through your darkest times, but now you can’t even catch a simple note from Coach clearly. Anger boils deep in your chest, your head heats up at this thought. 

I can’t even do the shit I love most because of this motherfucker. How did he take everything from me?

Curses string through your brain, overlapping until you feel the tears of frustration springing in your eyes. 

No! You snap at yourself. Absolutely not. 

You take a shaky but calming breath in and out through your nose, and use all of your willpower to focus on Coach, practically glaring at her at this point. 

“Let’s do that, yeah? Last run before lunch, don’t make me hate it,” She booms, her loud voice followed by two claps. You make your way to your position at the start of the hip-hop routine, shaking your limbs on the way in an attempt to sharpen your mind. 

There’s a silence before the music begins. Another thud. Loud laughter. A couple encouraging howls.

The track starts and catches you slightly off guard. Your movements are strong and sharp, but you feel your spatial awareness slip as you push yourself through the routine. Your internal dialogue doesn’t help in the slightest. Choruses of “What the shit was that?” and “Fuck him,” and “Just GET through it.” And of course, on the slide section Coach said no one could be a millisecond late on, you hear your sneaker squeak on the floor just after everyone else’s. 

Fuckin’ great. 

By the end of the routine your frustration has simmered into sadness, feeling simply disappointed in yourself and your performance. You and everyone else in this room know you’re a much better dancer and teammate than you’ve been for the past month. Your chest contracts and heart aches as you break from your ending position to grab your water bottle and notebook before sitting in a semicircle on the floor in front of Coach. A sharp pain climbs up your throat as you purse your lips, an attempt to keep your eyes from watering. You can’t even stand to look at most of the girls, too embarrassed. Of all of it. 

Thud. A football coach’s muffled voice yelling, “Hey, pick that shit up and get over here!”

Coach Kandace starts her post-practice notes, and you hang on to every word. You feel it’s the least you could do after another horrible practice. You get as many details of her quarries as you can jotted into your notebook, your handwriting looking messier than usual ever since the breakup. Another thing you can’t stand about this whole ordeal. Once Coach is finished, you feel your throat has miraculously loosened after those few minutes of focus and a couple sips of water. 

“Alright, thank you all for your work. We’ll be in the stadium this evening for sideline practice, so please come prepared in your white practice shorts and purple practice tops. If you’re dressed incorrectly, I don’t want to see you,” Coach speaks slowly as she lists off directions for tonight’s practice. “Lunch is in the big hall today, you’re dismissed.”

You internally groan at the last announcement. Lunch in the big hall means you’re eating with the football team. Another thing you used to look forward to, and now dread. 

Everyone starts to disperse, girls talking, and stretching, and drinking more water while getting ready to leave. You start to gather your items, until Coach Kandace calls you over.

Oh God.

You scamper over to the far side of the room, walking right up to her with a straight spine, directly meeting her eye. Anything less and you’d be in even more trouble than you already are.

“Hi, hon. How are you doing? I know we talked at the beginning of preseason about what’s going on, but I want to check on you,” She starts. Coach can see right through each of her girls, and it was blatantly obvious something was wrong that week you’d caught Cam red handed. You had a chat about it after that practice where you told her what happened, but haven’t talked since.

You could have lied, but it would’ve been useless. This woman is basically your second mother. “I’m getting through it,” You said after a few moments. 

She hums. “Listen. I know what’s going on here. So do you. So do your teammates. All we want is for you to be uplifted and supported. I’m sure you feel the same. Everyone in this room right now, we all know you are facing adversity. And I hate to be the bitch here, but it’s kind of my job,” She speaks calmly and slowly. “There is adversity happening in every corner of this building. It may not be the exact same as yours, it may not be happening at the same time as yours, but you have a mental responsibility to this team–and more importantly, yourself–to face it. I’ve seen you for the past three weeks try to dance your way out of it and around it. Cut that shit out. It’s not going to solve anything. You need to sit with yourself and your support system, and face it.”

You stand there, hands on hips. All of your past practices loom over you, and finally you realize. Your dreams filled with every mistake in your routines. Running laps around Death Valley when you can’t sleep. Handwashing every practice and game uniform two times over. Dance, dance, dance. You’ve been smothering your feelings so far away, and it’s coming back to bite you in the ass every time. An endless loop of you wanting to substitute your pain with your passion, and your pain infiltrating your passion as a result, making you want to continue substituting your pain with your passion. It’s like you’ve been trying to shove a key in the wrong lock, pushing dance further in, desperately trying to patch up your emptiness until the key bends. How long have you been shoving? And has the key finally snapped, or can you be fixed?

Coach lets out a sigh as she crosses her arms. “You are stronger than this. We all know that. I would not have put you on this team if you weren’t. You’re a fucking Tiger Girl for fuck’s sake.” She points at my chest while she says this. “So, are you going to show up for your team, or not?” Her eyes bore pointedly into yours. You don’t dare to look away.

You take a deep breath and mutter, “Yes.”

Her eyes widen and brows raise at your response. “I’m sorry?” She exclaims as she leans in.

“Yes ma’am,” You declare, speaking stronger this time. Meaning it. 

“Alright,” She responds and nods with a slight smile and a glint in her eye. “Also, if you need to bring your lunch somewhere else let me know.” She places a hand on your shoulder rubbing it slightly as a comfort. 

“That’s okay,” You reply with a real, full smile. “I’m stronger than that.”

She smiles back. “That you are.”

You turn and walk back towards your items, seeing Kelia on her phone and all packed up, standing by the wooden cubby that holds all of your dance gear. You quickly pile your dance bag a mile high, barely managing to get the zipper closed. Kelia turns to you with a soft, “You good?” You meet her eye as you sling the bag over your shoulder. Her concerned frown makes you sigh. 

“Yes,” You reply confidently with a nod, running with this newfound optimism Coach just gave you. You stalk towards the door with your head held high, Kelia falling in step with you quickly.

“That is my girl,” Kelia replies excitedly, slinging her arm around your shoulder as you both walk down a grand corridor in the LSU facility towards the big hall, refusing to glance over at the gym where the boys are finishing up their workout. 

You think about what Coach said about your support system, knowing immediately Kelia is one of the people in that circle. Kelia was selected to be your random roommate freshman year, most likely because you’re both Tiger Girls. You honestly didn’t get along super well at first–she’s ridiculously clean, which was hard to keep up with, and you liked to sleep around 11pm, whereas her bedtime veered closer to 3am–but after being yakked on by the same drunk girl at a frat, your trauma bond made you inseparable. She’s been with you through thick and thin, and vice versa. 

You start to glance at some of the epic pictures of athletes from LSU’s history that decorate the bright hallway when you see someone break off from a group of girls in front of you. The figure you now recognize as one of your other closest friends, Grace, jogs over to you and Kelia. 

“Yo,” She sighs, slinging her arm around your shoulder tiredly. “I don’t wanna go to sidelineee.” She whines in your ear, jutting out her bottom lip in a pout.

“How else would you do so good cheering for your man?” Kelia teases, snickering.

“He ain’t my man,” Grace snaps at her. “We’re feelin’ it out.”

“You want him to be though,” You comment with a laugh, Kelia adding in a little Oooh! to back you up. Grace’s little situationship with one of the team’s star wide receivers, Justin Jefferson, is one of the few things providing you entertainment in this dark period.

“Anyway,” Grace booms with a glare, trying to silence you and Kelia’s giggles. “I’m gonna get him to join us for lunch so you can grill him all about it then.” She crosses her arms and juts out her chin as you three march into the big hall, an extensive, bright, pristine cafeteria with a variety of meal stations and LSU memorabilia all over the walls. The smell of different cuisines and freshly cooked food perks you up. You didn’t realize just how hungry you are until this moment. By far the biggest benefit of eating at the same time as the football team is that you get the same food as them, which is far superior to the bland, prepackaged meals usually provided for the women’s sports. 

It seems your teammates are thinking the same thing as you, because Kelia immediately says, “Oh bless those little boys and their silly game.” She makes a beeline for the True Balance section, and you follow suit, both of you filling up your plates as Grace wanders off elsewhere. You chit chat while you make your way to an open table, and the football players start flooding in with all of their smelliness and loudness and whatnot. You try to find Grace over the shoulders of huge sweaty men who just finished a gruesome workout, and eventually find her already walking towards you, side by side with Justin.

Guess she got him to sit with us. You smile to yourself. If there’s one thing about your friends, it’s that they know exactly how to have a man wrapped around their finger. You tease Grace all the time about how down bad she is for Justin, but you have no doubts that if she actually wants him, she and Justin will be an item by midseason.

You tap Kelia’s shoulder as you sit down next to her, nodding at the pair behind you. She glances at them, then shares a knowing look with you. “That girl,” She mumbles as she smirks and shakes her head. 

“Hey!” You hear Grace chirp as she slides next to Kelia, Justin hot on her tail, plopping down right across from her. 

“What’s up?” Justin greets you both warmly. You’ve met Justin a handful of times when he’s been over at your college apartment you share with Grace, Kelia, and Tay, another Tiger Girl you love dearly. Before unforeseen recent events, you typically hung out with Cam’s friends on the team, who are mostly on the defensive side of the ball. Your breakup and Grace’s newfound infatuation has you branching out to meeting some new players, and that’s definitely for the best, but it feels weird. Sometimes it feels like all of them know exactly what happened, and are laughing at you on the inside. Justin seems nice enough though.

And you’re just jumping to conclusions. 

“Fucking tired,” Kelia grumbles, picking at her salad and shoving a bite in her mouth. 

Justin just laughs. “Tell me about it, brother,” Another voice interrupts. You look up from your rice and see another wide receiver, Ja’marr Chase, stumble into your table across from Kelia. Everyone gives him a small greeting including you, just giving a tight smile. Your memories of Ja’marr are even blurrier than the ones of Justin. You can’t even recall a full conversation you’ve had with him, only meeting in passing or large groups.

New people, that’s okay, that’s cool! 

“So, what is this fight I’m hearing about?” Grace asks the group, specifically the guys.

Ja’marr immediately lets out a loud groan and Justin rolls his eyes. “Man, I don’t even care about this shit. Like, it’s fucking football and I don’t give a shit about feelings,” Ja’marr rants, instantly throwing his arms all around in exaggeration as he gathers a large amount of food onto his fork and chomps down on it. 

“It’s actual pussy shit,” Justin points out to you all, shaking his head.

“God,” Ja’marr scoffs, sighing again before starting, “Basically, we was in the weight room right, doing our splits. All the sudden, this– Ah wait. Aye, nine!” Ja’marr pauses, getting distracted and yelling at something behind you and Kelia, seemingly waving someone else over to your table. 

Jesus.

You look over your shoulder, realizing the number nine he called over is LSU’s star quarterback and supposed savior, Joe Burrow. 

Oh. 

Like Ja’marr, you’d met Joe in passing only one or two times. All you know is that he can be pretty quiet, is kind of a big deal, and when faced with football, destructively intense. The kind of guy who walks in the room and everyone knows he means business. 

You would be lying if you said he didn’t scare you sometimes. But only sometimes. 

When Joe makes his way to the table, he scoots right in next to Ja’marr across from you. “Okay we’re talking abo- Bro, what the fuck did you grab pickles for?” Ja’marr looks at Joe incredulously. Everyone’s head turns to Joe’s plate, with a whole five or six pickle spears on the edge of it. 

Joe looks up with part of a pickle already in his mouth, staring at everyone like a deer caught in headlights. His gaze lands on Ja’marr, and his expression turns defensive as he speaks with his mouth half full, “I like pickles. What’s the problem?”

A couple of you all snicker at him, Ja’marr saying, “No problem bruh, you just got, like, 12 of ‘em.”

“You could at least share,” You comment, holding out your thumb and forefinger. 

He lets out a little laugh, picking up one of his pickles and gifting it to you, saying, “Here, you can get bullied too.”

“Okay,” Grace booms over the table exasperatedly, “what happened with this fight?” 

Joe groans, “This shit?”

“Ohhh yeah,” Ja’marr points at Grace as she rolls her eyes in exasperation. “So, we’re lifting. All the sudden, Deavers and Delpit on the squat rack next to me start chirping or something.” Your stomach turns at that last name. Deavers. Cam. A last name you foolishly thought could possibly be yours one day… 

But it won’t be. And you’re better off without it.

“So I’m like bruh, what’s going on? They’re talking about the Texas game this weekend, I’m like, okay. But Deavers is out here on some–” Ja’marr’s voice jumps three octaves as he imitates your ex, “--‘my dad went there, and my whole family are Longhorns, and this is going to be such a hard game.’ Like bitch…shut up!” He throws his hands up when he says this, eyes widening and eyebrows furrowing. You remember moments when Cam told you about his family’s history with Texas, telling you it would be hard whenever LSU plays Texas. You almost forgot how significant this weekend is for him. 

“I literally do not give a fuck who you are, where you come from. That’s straight up weird to not be betting on your own guys,” Justin grumbles.

“So Delpit’s already chewin’ him off, I start talking my shit, some punches get thrown, blah blah blah. Some trainers broke it up. I’m just annoyed by what he was saying,” Ja’marr waves off the rest of the story. “The best part was Joe,” Ja’marr points to his teammate and starts laughing. “He came up to Deavers after all macho and shit, and was like, ‘Cut that shit out. This is football, you go to war with your men.’”

“Really there was no reason for all that. Obviously what he’s saying is stupid as fuck, but you should’ve just all shut up,” Joe says to Ja’marr with a hard stare, lightly scolding him as well. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Ja’marr rolls his eyes. “But literally 90% of all the punches were him. I was defending myself.”

“He was acting like he wanted to get hit,” Joe backs up Ja’marr’s point.

“Crazy for a guy on the bench every game,” Ja’marr adds, grumbling and going back to picking at his food. 

“Sheesh!” Justin calls out, eyes widening at Ja’marr. “You didn’t have to do him like that now.”

Ja’marr shrugs. “I’m sick of his shit.”

“Wooow, the girls are fighting,” Kelia mumbles. All three of them shoot their heads up and glare at you all as you giggle. 

“Whatever,” Justin spits out as he rolls his eyes. 

“I mean, doesn’t this all make sense anyway?” Grace asks. “The defensive guys are always a little feistier.”

“What do you mean?” Ja’marr challenges, stiffening up.

“Well, they’re just super aggressive,” Kelia explains. “That’s why they play defense…right?”

“Not necessarily,” Joe counters. “For some guys it’s just their build, or how they see the ball. Different skills are good for different positions and make different kinds of players.”

You let out a small laugh. Everyone says that. “Sure.”

All three of the guys are staring at you now. “What?” You ask, throwing your hands up in defense.

“Well, I think we just want you to elaborate,” Ja’marr replies, motioning for you to continue.

“I’m just saying, they’re ramming their bodies into other people’s for fun. They’re a little rougher!” As you explain, you recall the few moments Cam would be in the game and make a particularly hard tackle, scaring the shit out of you. Sometimes you would really think he died or had a serious injury, but he would just get up every time and flex towards the crowd. 

You also recall your hot make out sessions after draining practices when he would still find the energy to toss you around, making it feel like his hands were in twenty places at once. It was something you always loved and found extremely attractive, up until he started making excuses for not getting you off afterwards and turning out the light before you could even clean yourself up. 

“You don’t think we can play rough?” Joe quips, staring you straight in the eye. You see a glint in them, not quite amusement, but darker. A challenge. 

Joe’s innuendo, whether intentional or not, sets off sirens in your brain. You can’t help but imagine what Joe would be like in comparison to Cam. How he would treat a girl he’s with, his favorite positions, just how rough he thinks he can be…luckily the thought is a small flash, and you push it away as soon as it appears. Still, your imagination only fuels the fire of his intimidating stare, and a sudden heat surges into your cheeks for a quick second or two. “No…But you aren’t the guys smashing someone’s face into the ground,” You reply with a shrug.

Joe just laughs, slightly smug. “I’ll hold you to that.”

“Yeah, me too. I’ll stomp on a ho,” Ja’marr declares, pounding his foot into the ground under the table. 

“Be serious,” Justin laughs with his wide receiver duo, wiping his greasy fingers on his napkin before gathering his trash. “Want me to take yours?” He asks Grace.

“Oh, sure!” Grace quips innocently, giving him a big smile as he collects her scraps and piles them on top of his plate. You eye Kelia, noticing Joe and Ja’marr across from you giving each other similar looks. You lightly kick their legs under the table, grabbing their attention and darting your eyes towards Justin’s back that’s now headed towards a trash can. Joe just smirks and shakes his head knowingly, continuing to pick at his food, while Ja’marr puts a finger over his mouth in a shushing gesture.You and Kelia hold back your laughs, and a short silence falls over the table.

Grace notices and darts her eyes between the four of you, her cheeks turning a little pink. “What?” She questions, a smile threatening to burst through her lips. 

“Nothin’ girl,” Kelia replies with a chuckle, gathering her trash as well as yours. 

“I really don’t think I can make it through this heat bro. I really don’t,” Ja’marr starts complaining as he looks outside at the blazing Louisiana sun. “Not after that workout.”

“I thought you only had to go to Hodge?” Joe asks.

“Well yeah,” Says Ja’marr. “I still don’t want to step outside.”

Grace nods at you. “She’s got class in Hodge too! We usually walk together and split off ‘cause I gotta go across campus.”

“Oh perfect, you can be my human shield,” Ja’marr gives you a cheesy, sarcastic smile as you deadpan your expression in response. Both of you end up chuckling after your little joke as he and Joe finally start throwing their things out. You mentally sigh in relief, glad these guys are easy to get along with. Jumping into everyone’s preordained friendships is nerve-wracking.

The group continues chatting as you make your way out of the hall. When you step outside into the scorching sun Ja’marr so clearly despises, you catch the tail end of a hushed conversation between Cam and a defensive tackle you can’t remember the name of. Their heads snap over to you all as soon as the door opens. You make eye contact with Cam for only a second before turning your head forwards again, standing a little straighter, and holding your head up high. 

Not worth it. 

Cam and the DT continue their top secret convo once your group is out of earshot, and Justin and Kelia bid their goodbyes. While you’re waving, your brain comes to a serious halt when you make a realization. 

Your stomach didn’t drop when you saw Cam. In fact, your reaction was minimal. This is progress. Support system. 

“You going back to Gateway?” Ja’marr questions as he points at Joe. Gateway is the nice athletics dorm, and you’re not surprised Joe lives there, especially since Justin and Ja’marr do too. 

“Yeah, I’ll walk you guys though, it’s on the way,” Joe replies, falling in step with you, Grace and Ja’marr. 

You barely get two paces in when Ja’marr looks back at the ops, grunting. “Of course they’re out here, probably talking shit. Find something better to do,” Ja’marr demands, obviously still salty from the fight at practice. 

“I feel like we shouldn’t sit in this rage,” Grace suggests, softly patting Ja’marr’s shoulder to feign console. 

Suddenly Ja’marr is quiet, like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t. “Wait. I’m sorry. I should’ve shut my mouth,” He rambles. “You guys aren’t friends with him or something, right? That’s my bad.”

“Oh, no,” You blurt out, maybe a little too suddenly. It feels like all eyes are on you after your outburst, Grace looking slightly sympathetic. “Sorry,” You wave your hand back and forth like it will waft away the awkwardness. “He’s just, um, he’s my ex. So, no, not friends with him.”

There’s a short silence. “Oh,” Joe and Ja’marr say simultaneously. 

You let out a little snort, and eventually everyone else seems to follow suit, laughing with you. 

“Yeah, we don’t like him,” Grace confirms through her giggles. 

“Great,” Ja’marr announces. “Cause it’s horns down all week, mothafuckas.”

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * 

The sound of Coach Kadence's whistle slices through the humid air, and you swear the white, intense field lights of Death Valley make your head spin just a little harder for a few moments. “Take fifteen. Drink some damn water, and put away your poms. We’ll finish with tumbling,” Coach announces over the crowd of panting Tiger Girls, everyone exhausted after running your hardest drill. Your body breathes a sigh of relief at her words, begging you to rest for just a moment. In all honesty, you’re still happy as can be. This is the best practice you’ve had in weeks.

You start trudging over to the facility to put away your poms, not too far from the stadium, when you realize the football team has gone inside. They were out here for a majority of the time running their usual drills, and must have gone in ten or twenty minutes ago. The stars catch your eye as you look up, noticing the moon has taken a break tonight. A new moon.

“Jesus,” Someone breathes out next to you. “I always underestimate that drill.” Tay, your other roommate besides Grace and Kelia, has her hands on her hips as she walks side by side with you towards the tunnel where there’s a shortcut to the facility.

You cough out a short laugh through your tired pants and dry throat. “Yeah, me too,” You agree as Grace catches up to the other side of Tay.

“If Coach didn’t give us a break after that I was going to vomit, I swear,” Grace insists. You and Tay just nod in agreement, too exhausted to speak much longer. Luckily, Kelia jogs straight up to the group and does all the talking for you.

“You guys, I came up with an ingenious plan during my Thermodynamics exam today,” Kelia announces excitedly.

“During an exam?” Tay inquires with a judging look. 

“Shush. Anyway,” Kelia waves her off quickly and grabs your arm. “Girl. You have been moping about this stupid Cam, sham, bland idiot, and I think today was the exact rebrand you have been needing. I mean look at you, you were fucking killing it out there today!” Kelia motions out at the field as you smile at her. You’re not entirely sure where this is going, and the topic is making you wary, but everything sounds good so far.

“So in the true spirit of that, I think to top it all off you need a full factory reset,” She smirks at you. “I think it’s time you learn the art of the rebound.”

Grace gasps, “I love this idea.”

“Woah, woah, woah,” You chant as you wave your hands out, trying to simmer your friends down from their excited chatter. A rebound? Of course you’ve heard of it, even had a few friends experiment with the unorthodox method of getting over an ex. But there are a lot of complications. You don’t want to hurt the rebound’s feelings if they’re actually into you, and you don’t want to get attached yourself. You don’t want to feel like you’re just trying to fill a void, although at this point you haven’t had good dick in quite some time and your body is a little antsy for it. 

“Is that really an ingenious idea? I would say it’s just a theory that has a very slim possibility of becoming successful,” You counter. 

“Hey!” Keila lightly hits your shoulder. “It is ingenious! At this point, most of your emotional attachments to him are gone, so it’s not like you’re just trying to fuck away your feelings. Besides, we all know good and well about Cam’s selfishness in bed,” Kelia mumbles the last sentence as you nod off handedly. “It would be good to find someone new who knows what they’re doing a little more.”

You sigh, definitely still not sold on the idea. “Besides, I have the perfect candidate,” Kelia remarks.

“Oh really?” You snort, and Kelia nods, her expression smug and her head held high. “Who?”

“Joe,” She replies simply.

“Joe Burrow?” You utter.

The other girls’ mouths drop. “No way,” Grace gasps with a smile.

“The kid’s teammate?! Oh that’s messy,” Tay adds, cackling along with Grace.

“That’s perfect. Please, please say you’ll do it,” Grace grabs hold of you through laughter.

“Okay this all feels so dramatic,” You reply, your brain moving a mile a minute as you process.

“Come on,” Kelia whines. “He’s nice, hot, a little more experienced cause he’s a little older…Last spring when his ex was in town I met her at this party and she would not shut up about how good he is in bed. It was kind of annoying actually, like bitch I don’t know you.” She scrunches up her nose at that last part.

“Well, I don’t doubt that,” You mutter under your breath.

“Oh, so you have thought about it!” Tay points her finger at you.

“Every girl says that about their boyfriend,” You dismiss Kelia’s previous comment, trying to ignore Tay.

Kelia stops outside the door to the facility with a pointed look. “Did you ever brag to other girls about how good Cam was in bed?” She asks.

You fall silent. Everyone knows the answer.

“Exactly,” She deadpans. “So just think about it! All I’m saying is it would be a really good time, and a really good get-back at Cam.”

“It would definitely be a ‘for the plot’ moment of the ages,” Grace mutters in agreement. 

You sigh with your hands on your hips. Realistically, there’s not much that can go wrong, and it’s a pretty win-win situation. The only tricky part is getting him on the same page.

“I’ll think about it,” You finally respond. Kelia lets out a little ‘Yes!’ and high fives the other two girls, as you roll your eyes and enter the facility behind Grace.

A couple doors down is the Tiger Girls equipment closet where a few girls are putting their poms away. The rest are a couple more doors down, peering in the observation windows of one of the matted rooms where the wrestlers typically practice. They’re chatting and gripping their fingers on the window sills, hanging on to every second of whatever is going on in that room. Grace notices too, furrowing her eyebrows back at you and the other girls before investigating. 

Once you get to the windows, you realize this is where the football boys went. There are bleachers set up on the far right side of the room where the entire team is sitting, and Coach O, the head football coach, stands in the middle with two clear buckets full of wooden balls. 

“Look, Justin,” Grace points out in the row of bleachers. You follow her finger, seeing Justin, Ja’marr and Joe all sitting next to each other. After the conversation you had with your girls on the way in, you unconsciously start noticing Joe a little more. His blonde hair is slightly darker than it usually is due to the sweat accumulated from a long practice, and his strong jaw is set tightly as he focuses on his Coach. He rubs his hand along that jaw for a moment, licking his full lips in the process, making your heart rate accelerate so deliciously that it’s addicting. 

He really is hot…

The boys must have seen Grace’s pointing, because Justin gives her a small peace sign, and Ja’marr smiles. Joe’s expression remains stoic and hard set as he makes eye contact with the group, his gaze lingering on you until the side of his mouth tugs upwards ever so slightly. His eyes snap back to Coach O.

“What’s going on?” Tay asks another Tiger Girl, Del.

“They’re wrestling,” She replies with wide eyes. “Watch.” Del points to Coach O, who pulls out a ball from each bucket.

Coach O’s deep, gravelly voice booms, “Offense, 51. Rosenthal. Defense, 1. Fulton.” Cheers and hollers from the guys rattle through the room as two members of the team stand from the bleachers and replace Coach O in the center of the wrestling mat. Coach steps aside, puts his silver whistle in his mouth, and pushes out a hearty alert to start the match. The two players launch into action, grabbing at each other's limbs, trying to form headlocks and pin a pair of shoulders. After a minute or two of tousling, a player wins and earns cheers from the rest of the team, while Coach O approaches a large whiteboard where each match is listed and its winner circled. 

“Holy shit,” You mutter. As if they don’t beat each other up enough during games.

“Alright,” Coach O announces, trying to settle the team. “Defense, 13. Deavers. Offense, 9. Burrow.”

Oh god.

Oh god.

The universe is sending you signs and you don’t know how to handle them.

Both Cam and Joe stand from the bleachers as the rest of the team conducts their obligatory claps and hollers, a little, “Oh yeah,” coming from Ja’marr. Your brain short circuits a little when you notice Joe’s wearing a white LSU compression tee with no sleeves, showing off his leftover tan from August. 

Jesus Christ.

Joe and Cam shake hands and face off, gearing up in athletic stances for the fight. Almost instantly you take notice of their size comparison. You always thought Cam was a big guy, sitting at a good 6’1 (although he’d tell you 6'2) with a decent amount of muscle on him. Seeing him next to Joe made you rethink that entirely. He’s noticeably taller than Cam, and his shoulders are definitely broader. Although it may not be entirely true, the sleeveless shirt is working in Joe’s favor, making his arms look more sculpted and refined. Plus that ass…

Okay. You need to stop, You scold yourself. 

“Alright,” Coach O huffs out, then blows his whistle loud and clear. 

Of course Cam is immediately attempting to attack, hoping any intimidation can work in his favor. Joe doesn’t waver, quickly maneuvering out of Cam’s holds, not even flinching at his jukes. After 30 long seconds of Cam on the offense, he manages to trip Joe up on his legs, getting both of them on their knees. Players on the bleachers react, shouting words of encouragement to both of their teammates. 

“Agh, come on!” Cam grits out while pulling Joe closer and closer to a chokehold. Both of them are letting out so much force they’re slightly shaking, sweat wicking down their foreheads and cheeks flushed. 

Joe takes a deep breath, then lets out an angry grunt, his face suddenly turning as hard and mean as you’ve ever seen him. With his brows down and eyes hooded, Joe’s biceps that are preventing Cam from getting the full hold start contracting beautifully in that cutoff shirt, slowly and shakily bringing Cam’s arm off his neck. 

Holy fuck.

Joe starts to pull himself off of Cam’s body, quickly turning and getting a good grip on the arm that was around his neck. Cam uses his other fist to try to make a cheap shot at Joe’s knee, but Joe catches it, using Cam’s moment of weakness to ram his shoulder into Cam’s torso. A couple of your teammates gasp as Joe keeps pushing, driving both of them to the ground with Joe facing you dancers at the observation window, his knees on either side of Cam’s hips. The players on the bleachers get even rowdier as the fight picks up, everyone banging on the metal and cheering on who they want to win. 

Come on, Joe…

Joe’s biceps bulge as he lets out another mean grunt, eventually maneuvering Cam’s arm behind his own back like he’s getting arrested. Cam’s other arm tries to grab desperately at any of Joe’s limbs, but Joe drives a knee into Cam’s lower back, forcing him onto his stomach. Whoops and hollers fill the room, with someone barking out, “Get ‘em Burrow!”

Come on Joe…

Joe’s other arm grabs Cam’s free one, joining the two together so he can hold both of Cam’s wrists with one hand. He uses the other arm to crash his elbow and forearm into Cam’s shoulders, holding a pin as Coach O starts to count.

“Three…”

Joe takes his eyes off of the pin and looks straight up. At you.

“Two…”

He quickly adjusts his grip, removing his forearm from Cam’s shoulders, and moving that same hand onto Cam’s head, squishing it into the mat. 

“One…”

It dawns on you what Joe’s doing, and why his electric blue eyes are burning into yours at this very moment.

He’s smashing Cam’s face into the ground.

The realization leaves your mouth agape. Joe can see right through you, and he knows it. A cocky grin stretches across his mouth. He’s holding you to your words, and putting you right in your place, leaving you breathless.

The loudest cheers of the night erupt from the spectators, many of them hooting and dancing. Joe rises, still extending a hand to help Cam up afterwards even though he just disrespected the hell out of him by shoving his face into the floor like that. Joe saunters back to his place on the bleachers as Coach O records the match. Your eyes are glued to his frame, his energy and demeanor making him exciting and magnetic. He sits while Justin and Ja’marr give him a few words, and you finally let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in. In a moment you could’ve missed if you blinked, Joe looks at you one last time and throws you a quick wink, turning right back to his teammates. 

You finally look to your friends, who are just as stunned as you. “Oh, this is perfect,” Kelia whispers, with the largest shit-eating grin you have ever seen.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * 

The rest of your week drags on as normal, other than your somewhat overwhelming thoughts of a certain quarterback. You eat with the football players one other time, sitting again with Justin, Ja’marr and Joe, even chatting with them during practice transitions and occasionally walking to classes together. You and Joe specifically have been getting closer by the day, joking and laughing. Grace is over the moon of course, and it feels like Kelia and Tay are watching you and Joe like a hawk, willing their wish to come true. 

Usually, you have no trouble reading guys. In fact, they almost feel boring and predictable most of the time. But Joe is entirely cool and collected, and you’re not at all used to being caught unaware. It excites you, but scares you to death as well.

Am I reading too far into this? Are we flirting? It feels like flirting. He could just be a flirty guy. I could just be ridiculously horny. 

That’s the other problem. No one talks about the struggle of going from okay sex, to horrible sex, to no sex at all. You feel so close yet so far, and stupidly desperate, which just makes you even more frustrated because you hate being desperate.

“Ugh,” You groan at your thoughts, finally focusing on your computer screen long enough to submit your last bit of homework before you leave. The team’s bus to Texas leaves at 7am, and maintaining your GPA is part of being a Tiger Girl, so it's essentially team policy to have all of your homework done before you leave. 

You shut your laptop with a sigh, dropping it in your backpack and double checking you have everything you need for game day. You hoist the sack on your back, grabbing your dance bag next to your bedroom door and lugging it to your apartment’s entrance so you can leave quickly once your roommates are ready. Grace and Tay are in your small living room using the coffee table to work on a puzzle of a colorful painting of New York, and you join them with a sigh. “All ready?” Tay asks, snapping a purple piece into place.

“Oh yeah,” You respond exasperatedly, glancing at all of the scattered pieces, not even bothering your brain to attempt matching them together. 

“Texas will be fun,” Grace comments. “I hope people get rowdy.”

“I hope we win,” Tay retorts with a worried look on her face. “This game is kind of going to make or break the team. We beat Texas and everyone will see the guys didn’t come to play around.” Texas is really good. Beating them is hard. Beating them at home is even harder. The boys keep saying they know what they need to do and how to do it, they just need to execute and show everybody. Even just hanging around their practices you can feel a shift in energy this year compared to last–thing is, you only know this because you’ve been around the practices, and the rest of the world hasn’t. This is the team’s chance to show people what they’re made of.

“I’d also love to crush Cam’s stupid idols,” Tay adds, sharpening her tone. “Or maybe I do want us to lose…whatever hurts him more.”

While you share that sentiment somewhat, you just laugh in response. “You’re stupid. I really hope we win,” You reply. “In fact, we should just win every game.”

Grace snorts. “That would actually be lit,” She smiles, reaching across the table to grab a couple blue pieces.

The sound of a door being shoved open startles all three of you. Kelia comes stumbling out of her bedroom with a huge backpack and overflowing dance bag, her chronic overpacking tendencies on full display. She waddles over to the front door, placing her bags next to everyone else’s with a thud. 

“Okay!” Kelia chirps, placing her hands on her hips and glancing at the digital clock on your wall. “And thirty minutes to spare. I’m amazing.” She smiles cheekily, joining you on the couch.

“That you are,” You respond, smiling and jokingly pinching her cheek until your hand gets swatted away. 

Suddenly your phone buzzes in your pocket, and you dig it out. A text from an unknown number appears.

(740)-219-1009: Hey, it's Joe. You guys want a ride to the stadium? I have room in my car

Kelia squeals in your ear, leaning over your shoulder to read your texts. “Hey!” You exclaim, shielding your phone screen and pushing Kelia’s shoulder.

“Sorry, that was an exciting text! Say yes, right now!” Kelia encourages. 

“What happened?” Tay asks.

“Joe texted her saying he’d drive us to the stadium to meet the buses.”

Grace gasps. “Yes! Say yes, I don’t know if my dear old baby Cara can take even one more drive,” Grace whines with an overexaggerated pouty lip. This might actually be true. Grace’s deep red Camry, no matter how sentimental, is on death’s door and could cough at any given moment. 

“And this pushes Mission Rebound-” 

“-Exactly.” Kelia drives Tay’s point home.

They all stare at you expectantly. “Everyone is ganging up on me,” You comment, typing out your response to Joe.

You: That would be great honestly

Joe: Great, I’m with JJ and Ja’marr too

Joe: We’ll be there in 15

You thumbs up his message. “He’ll be here in 15,” You announce to your friends, and they cheer in response. Grace jumps up and goes into the bathroom, likely spraying on more perfume before she sees Justin. You, Kelia, and Tay shoot each other loaded looks, giggling at your friend who is so horrendously down bad, even if she won’t admit it. 

A follow up text from Joe arrives quickly, and everyone lugs their bags out to the front of your building. The Louisiana weather is more forgiving before the sun is fully up, and you’re grateful for the wind that cools your cheeks when you see Joe hopping out of the driver’s seat of a Black Chevy Silverado. He takes the cover off of the open trunk where the guys’ bags are, greeting you with a kind smile. “Hey guys,” He sighs.

“Hi, Joe,” You chirp as he takes each of your bags from you to pile in. “Thanks for picking us up, we really, really appreciate it.”

“No seriously, I don’t even know if we’d have made it to the stadium in my car,” Grace interjects as she slides into the back seat, pointing out dear old Cara in the parking lot. Useless duct tape adorns her bumper in an attempt to keep it intact, a decently sized dent in the back left door is a little more than slightly frightening, and the scratches all over the exterior make her a sight for sore eyes.

“Jesus,” Joe mumbles with wide eyes, popping the hard cover back on the trunk. 

“You might as well have saved our lives,” You say as you also study the beat up vehicle, only half joking. Realistically, Cara is a biohazard.

Joe chuckles, rounding the truck to get back in the driver’s seat. “Glad I could help,” He replies with a wink. Your heart leaps, and you fight a smirk as you climb into the back, feeling Mission Rebound get more exciting with each passing moment. 

Studying the situation in the back, you realize Joe really didn’t have that many extra seats. With him as the driver and Ja’marr as the passenger princess, there are only three seats left with five people. Grace is already in Justin’s lap on the far end, so you just plop yourself on Tay’s thighs, seeing as there’s no other option. 

During the very short ride to Death Valley, Ja’marr plays some obnoxiously hype rap for 6:45am, asking about the game and if you have any new or special cheers for Texas. You all joke and laugh sleepily, knowing when it comes time to board the buses you’ll be separated, as the Tiger Girls and football teams have different bus assignments. 

Joe rounds the corner into the stadium agonizingly slow after Ja’marr dramatically clutched onto the door handle on Joe’s last turn, claiming he “rounds corners like it’s F1,” and is “going to send us to the hospital.”

“Now you’re just being a dick,” Ja’marr throws his hands up and gives Joe a long look as he makes it a point to roll through the turn.

“Nah, you said I’m turning too fast!” Joe sasses back with a petty shrug. Everyone in the back groans and gives their two cents, chastising Ja’marr and punching the back of Joe’s seat to no avail. Your collective complaints and laughter slows to a halt as you look towards the stadium and confusion sets in. Outside Death Valley is a large crowd of athletes and coaches, suitcases and bags, loads of equipment…and no buses. 

That’s weird.

“Um…where are the buses?” Grace ponders slowly. The apparent becomes more obvious as Joe parks in his reserved spot and everyone climbs out of the truck, getting a closer look at the mob’s annoyed appearance. 

“Well this is fucking great,” Justin mumbles.

A tired and less than pleasant looking Del makes eye contact with you and shuffles over. “No buses?” You ask disappointedly. In your two years as a Tiger Girls thus far, the buses were only late once, and by all but 15 minutes.

Del shakes her head. “Not yet. Everyone’s calling around, but it looks like the company messed up. No one knows when they’ll be here,” She explains with a raspy voice. “We’re sitting ducks.”

Joe lets out a long sigh next to you and rolls his eyes. 

“That is my cue brother,” Ja’marr announces, promptly sitting right where he is on the sidewalk and pulling out his phone. 

“I second that,” Tay groans, cringing when she sits on the hard concrete. You look around, realizing that pretty much everyone else has also taken to the ground, save for a few coaches that are yelling into phones about our transportation. Following suit, you plop down criss cross applesauce, shoving your elbow onto your knee and your pouting face onto your palm.

After fifteen minutes of New York Times games and using Kelia’s phone to play Heads Up, the sound of Coach O’s whistle pierces through the air, causing a few athletes to complain. “Alright,” He starts, his voice as large as ever as he announces the update on your travel accommodations. “Our buses will be here in an hour and a half. But I don’t want a single one of you leaving this lot until we’re on our way to kick some Longhorn ass.”

Grumbles and commotion breaks out immediately after, everyone settling in for a long morning. “I’m reaaally close to Doordashing a coffee right now,” You drag out, feeling your game day anticipation wear off after being told you need to sit on hard concrete at 7am for the next hour and a half. 

“There’s those bottled Starbucks things in the vending machines,” Justin comments, nodding his head towards the facility. “Go in and get one.”

You look from Justin, to Coach O, and back to Justin again. “Did you not hear him? We can’t leave. He won’t let me in there.”

“He’ll let me in there,” Joe states, tapping your knee and motioning for you to get up with him. 

You look back at Justin warily. He nods and says, “He’s right.”

You sigh, and Joe looks at you pointedly with an outstretched hand. Reluctantly, you grab it and he pulls you to your feet with ease. You follow behind Joe like a shadow as he stalks over to Coach O and says his greetings. 

“Do you mind if we head into the facility and grab some Gatorades from the vending machine? I didn’t realize I was out this morning,” Joe asks casually. Coach O has his hands on his hips as he looks between you and Joe, furrowing his brow slightly. You hold your breath, and after what feels like an eternity he finally grumbles under his breath and points to the entrance. 

“Go ahead,” He mutters reluctantly. You silently celebrate, both you and Joe thanking Coach as you walk off. “Remember, I trust you boy!” Coach O calls after you and points at Joe’s chest.

“Thank god,” You breathe out as Joe pushes his index finger into a scanner, his print unlocking the doors. 

“I don’t know why you were scared,” Joe snorts, tugging the door open for you.

“If he said no I would’ve died,” You defend yourself while you stroll into the open foyer. “This coffee is my lifeline right now, I can’t lie.”

The vending machine isn’t far, and you excitedly squeal when you hear the clank of the glass bottle rolling around in the bottom compartment. You immediately unscrew the cap and take a large gulp, placeboing yourself into already feeling more awake. Confusion flashes across your face as Joe punches in some numbers after you, grabbing a blue Gatorade. 

“What?” He asks when he sees your expression. “I really did run out this morning.”

The both of you take a moment to indulge in your drinks until Joe starts wandering off. “Um…where are you going?” You ask warily.

“Dunno,” He responds. “It’s going to get hot outside the longer we’re out there, so I want to be in the A/C a little longer.”

You shrug and join him, closely observing the walls you’ve been walking past for two years now. Suddenly Joe halts in place when an idea pops in his head. “You should show me the dance studios,” He exclaims, a wide smile stretching across his face. 

Your nose scrunches up. “What? That’s boring.”

“No, no,” He whines. “I’ve never seen them.” Suddenly Joe pops up in front of you, stopping you in place, and it doesn’t seem like he's budging. “Pleaseee,” He pouts exaggeratedly, slumping his shoulders and shuffling one of his feet back and forth. 

“Oh my god, if you’re going to be a big baby about it we’ll go,” You laugh and lightly shove his shoulder, which does absolutely nothing to alter his stance. 

Joe pumps his fist and lets out a prolonged, “Yesss.” You start making your way towards the dance studios, with Joe trailing behind like a little puppy. 

When you enter the short, more closed off dance hallway, you present the first door on the left with outstretched arms. “This is our main studio, and we basically only ever practice here for Nationals. Obviously for sideline we’re on the field, but everything else is this studio,” You explain, taking a couple steps in. The wooden floors are brand new from last year’s renovations, with a large LSU logo painted in the middle, and floor to ceiling mirrors cover the wall to the left of the door. Bars, props, and mats neatly line the back of the room, exactly as the team had left them after practice yesterday. 

“This is massive,” Joe exclaims in awe. “Is this how big the stage is for Nationals?”

“We have a little more room to account for the wings, but just about, yeah,” You nod. 

“I’ve never understood how you guys can use this much space in one dance,” He confesses, still slowly walking around to each corner of the room to observe. “I have like two dance moves in the club and it’s all upper body movement.”

You laugh. “Well, I have been doing this my whole life,” You clarify, walking to the middle of the LSU logo and sitting down to stretch. Although you already got in your daily routine this morning, it only feels right to immediately loosen your limbs when you walk in this room. Call it muscle memory. 

“Still,” He insists. “It’s incredible how much you can say without speaking at all. Not to mention the strength and stamina it takes, my god. You are a true athlete.”

His compliments make you bashful. Of course this is your art, and you love it, but hearing that someone else appreciates it as much as you do, makes the hardships that weigh you down worth it. Especially coming from someone who’s so elite in their own craft. Someone whose opinion you now value. 

Joe finds his way back to you when he’s done analyzing the room, just watching for a moment as you reach for your left foot that’s outstretched. You lean forward as far as you can until you’re stopped by your frontside coming into contact with the top of your thigh, feeling a light pull in your hamstring for a few seconds until it fades. You come back up, and Joe blurts out, “Dance.”

Your face turns bewildered at his vague request. “Oh sure, let me just get up and dance,” You reply sarcastically, rising from your position to complete a single perfect turn to absolutely no music, finishing with a dramatic bow.

Joe shakes his head and laughs nervously. “No, no, sorry. Um, that came out wrong.” He stutters. “I mean, do you have a dance you could show me? I don’t know, just like, thirty seconds. A little part. It’s just so cool.”

“Uhhh,” You drag out with a nervous chuckle. Your palms get a little sweaty, and you realize dancing for Joe with 22 other girls in an 80,000 capacity stadium after he throws a dime for a touchdown is a lot different than dancing for Joe alone in an empty studio. “I guess I can show you a little bit of something.”

“Something, anything,” He pleads. “I wanna see you up close.”

Your heart leaps into your throat as you walk over to the small sound system in the corner. “What do you want to see? Hip-hop? Contemporary?” You ask. “A cheer?” A dry chuckle falls out of both of your mouths at the last suggestion.

“Whatever you want. Whatever you like the most.”

You sigh as you recall last night when you stayed after sideline practice. After getting through the week and actually feeling okay for the first time in what felt like forever, you started doing some self reflecting. You kept replaying what Coach Kandace said to you after practice on Monday about how dance can’t be a place where you block your feelings out. It made you think about how the reason you got into dance in the first place was because it’s where you could let your feelings show without explaining them to anyone at all. You made a commitment to yourself that you wanted to begin carving out time to make dance about that again, so you stayed after practice for that solo studio time. 

You played music you were relating to in that moment, and started improving. Eventually it evolved and snowballed, so you came out of the hour and a half with a fully choreographed solo. Since the choreo was fresh in your mind, and you actually really loved this piece, you decided you’d show a part of it to Joe. 

“So, it’s to this song called Finish Line,” You explain as Joe sits criss-cross applesauce at the front of the room with his back to the mirrors. “It’s contemporary, and slow, so I don’t know if you’ll like it, but I choreographed it last night for fun. This is the last minute or so.” 

You click play, leaving ample time in the song to allow yourself to get to the center of the room before the section you want to start at. The atmospheric nature of the melody fills the room, and the beautiful acoustic guitar and piano make your shoulders drop and heart rate slow. Suddenly it feels exactly like it did in here last night, just you, your thoughts, and dance. Delaney Bailey’s soft voice rings out, and you begin.

If this breakup was a race, you’d win by a landslide.

I’d be walking laps babe, to watch the birds fly by.

You’d lap me cause you’ve been moving along way too fast.

Your legs are on fire babe, ease up on the gas.

So I’ll watch the flowers grow for a while,

You keep running your mile.

The music swells as the outro plays, and you launch into a long turn sequence. Your breaths are deep as the choreography spills out of you, feeling each moment as you transition from one move to the next. Eventually the song peters out, and you’re left walking off the “stage” slowly as your final moment. After a very tired breath, you drop the “dancer walk” and look over at Joe. His expression is entranced, with his wide eyes locked on you. 

“What’d ya think?” You quip through tired breaths, walking towards him with your hands on your hips.

He just looks up at you dumbfounded and astonished. “I’m in awe of you. That was incredible,” He mutters, shaking his head slowly. “You are amazing.”

You let out a short laugh. “Uh, thanks,” You cough out, trying your best not to let your giddy emotions show. “Here, let's go to the next room.”

Grabbing your phone quickly, you both make sure to turn off the lights and leave no remembrance of your visit behind. The door shuts with a soft click, and you move past some offices to your old studio, which used to be your only studio freshman year.

“This is what we used to practice in, so thank god for whatever millionaire alumni got us the new studio,” You comment, using your whole shoulder to open the older, more beat up wooden door into studio B. After flicking a switch most of the lights click on, save for a few that never worked even when it was your only practice space. The room is smaller, with little to no equipment, and dirt and dust infiltrate almost every surface. You don’t remember it being this bad, but to be fair you don’t think this room has been touched by anyone–including a custodian–in the two years you’ve been away from it. 

“Jesus,” Joe mumbles, almost immediately sneezing from the dust.

“Yep,” You agree, popping the ‘p’ at the end.

You both take hesitant steps into the space, your eyes wandering from the broken bar to a section of a mirror that broke off years ago. Eventually you hit wooden shelves, raking your finger over the top to see the dust and dirt that’s collected.

A gasp falls from your mouth as a realization hits. “This was my first cubby,” You exclaim, your hand almost immediately finding the top row, second one on the left. A wave of nostalgia hits you, seeing that a thin stripe of old blue painters tape still adorns the bottom of it. On the sticky material are bold capital letters that spell out your first and last name, etched in Cam’s handwriting. Looking beyond that, you notice a polaroid of you both is taped to the back, taken after the boys beat UCF in the Fiesta Bowl last year. You and Cam are on the bus, still glistening with war paint and makeup on, but changed into sweats. It’s a selfie with Cam smiling and his tongue out, and you snuggled up to his side while making a kissy face. The high you’re both riding from the win is evident on your faces. You slowly pull the polaroid off the wall, and bring your fingers up to the painters tape. 

The memory hits you. You were two excited freshmen, still riding the high of finally feeling like you were a part of something important beyond high school. Seeing your name on anything, from a jersey to a roster to a uniform bag, just solidified the feeling that this was real. You had both actually made it, and were living your dreams. Coach had told you to make sure you put your name in your cubby, because it would be yours for the rest of the season, and before you could claim your territory yourself, Cam snuck into the studio to see you. You remember feeling giddy, in awe that a boy could like you this much, so much so that he would tip toe around for you. With all but a few minutes before someone would catch Cam where he wasn’t supposed to be, you quickly laid out the strip of tape, and watched in adoration as Cam stenciled your name on it. “My favorite girl in the world,” He had said after. 

Your heart feels like it’s weighted down with a stone, and a bitter taste fills your mouth. 

Well, he lied.

Still tracing your fingers over the tape, you study it one last time before you start picking at a corner. You need to get it off. Joe’s presence looms behind you.

“So, you guys were together for a while, huh?” He asks, most likely analyzing the picture.

“Yeah, we started dating freshman year,” You explain.

He hums. The room doesn’t hold tension, but the air is thick. You both know this is heavy.

Joe sucks in a deep breath before asking, “How’d he lose you?”

Your fingers still methodically pick at the tape that doesn’t seem to budge. “What makes you think I broke up with him?”

“I just know,” He mutters. 

It’s your turn to hum. You contemplate telling Joe the truth for a few seconds until you decide there’s no real point in hiding from it. “He cheated,” You state plainly, still picking at the stubborn tape.

Joe goes silent behind you for a moment. “I’m really sorry,” He says sincerely. 

For a moment there’s a familiar lodge in your throat that threatens your lip to quiver, but you shrug and let out a deep breath that reminds you of your strength. 

I am still standing. I am better for this. This does not define me.

“It’s not your fault. The world keeps spinning,” You push out. The tape finally gives, allowing you to pull it up all in one go. You turn, and Joe makes it a point to look you in the eyes. 

“I’m still sorry it happened. No one deserves that,” He affirms. 

“Thanks,” You whisper. His eyes are kind, and you pull yourself away before you feel too much from it, crumpling up the piece of tape and the polaroid. 

“Well, now I definitely don’t regret kicking his ass in wrestling,” He gloats, leaning on the door frame with his arms crossed. You laugh, remembering the astonishment you felt in that moment, and the unmistakable fire in Joe’s gaze. 

“That was pretty gratifying for me, I won’t lie…” You respond, walking up to the exit to be face to face with Joe, flinging the wad of tape and polaroid into the trash can.

“Good,” He declares with a smile. “Enough to prove to you that I can play rough?”

Your heart skips a beat at his innuendo. A smirk dances across his face, and his eyes peer down at you, making you feel smaller than you already are compared to him. The way he’s staring at you, and the broad nature of his stance has your stomach doing cartwheels, and he just watches as you falter over his words.

He knows. He knows what he’s doing, and two can play at that game.

You step closer to him and jut your chin up, shamelessly letting your eyes rake over his body until you find his gaze again. “You’re improving, but I’m not quite convinced,” You tease, letting a small smirk ghost over your lips.

“Hmm,” He lets out a low, rumbling hum. “I guess I’ll have to be more convincing.” He drawls, his words feeling like nothing but heat as he looks at you like you’re his last meal. His tongue darts out to lick his lips, his eyes never leaving yours. You’re reminded of just how sexually frustrated you are, and just how rash the whole ordeal is making you.

I have a feeling this is exactly why Coach O didn’t want us in here alone.

“I guess so,” You breathe out, using your last bit of strength to rip your eyes away from his. “C’mon, I never get to go down the football hallway.”

Joe sighs, then chuckles behind you, half-jogging to catch up as you strut out of the studio, your mind racing and your expression casual. “Wait, I like it down here more,” Joe abruptly exclaims, resting his hand on your back to guide you left instead of straight. The small touch almost makes you jump, and your thoughts are silenced as your brain zeros in on the warmth Joe’s hand provides. He slowly drops it, walking ahead of you as the hall opens up, and the warmth simmers off your body, much to your disappointment.

This is getting ridiculous, You think to yourself. I can’t even have his hand on my back without needing to be cleansed with holy water.

“Look,” Joe announces as his face lights up, pointing out the grand, glorious displays that adorn the wide hall. 

“Woah,” You murmur in surprise. Huge trophy cases are sectioned off, one for each year LSU won a National Championship. Yellow and purple sprout off of each of them, from signed jerseys, to significant game balls, to large golden plaques, to team pictures, to newspaper articles. You and Joe stop by each showcase, reading about the historical matches until Joe gets too excited and tells you the stories himself. You can’t help but smile as his features become more animated than you’ve ever seen. 

Finally you come across LSU’s most recent win in 2007. At the center of the display is of course the sparkling football-shaped trophy, but above it is a picture of then-quarterback Matt Flynn with a wide smile, holding the award up into purple and yellow confetti. The photograph is pure happiness. Victory. 

“That’s going to be me one day,” Joe whispers, his eyes darting around the picture in awe. He brings a hand up to the frame, an index finger tracing the wooden outline. Your heart strings pull as you imagine little Joe in front of a TV watching college ball with this same look on his face, and how he must have wanted to be where he is now so badly. Joe’s exterior is brooding and serious, but right now all you can see is a kid with a dream he’s working so hard to achieve. 

“Yeah,” You suddenly agree quietly. “I believe you.”

Joe gives you a look, and a twinge of pink appears on his cheeks. He tries to stop it, but a small smile pulls at his lips anyway as he looks down and pulls an arm up to scratch the back of his neck. “Thanks,” He mumbles.

Your head gets thrown back as you laugh. “Did I just make you blush?” You tease, throwing your hands on your hips.

“No one will believe you,” He counters like a child, crossing his arms and pivoting to stalk out of the hallway. This makes you laugh harder, watching a 6’4 football player made of pure muscle stomp away like you did 12 years ago when your parents refused you candy from 7/11. Taking one last look at the beautiful displays before you catch up with Joe, you make a silent little note to the universe to pretty please help LSU win the Natty this year. 

After your little jog to get next to Joe, you loop your right arm in his left, feeling the effects of your caffeine start to kick in. “Where to next, Joseph?” You declare gallantly.

Your burst in energy makes Joe smile down at you. “Well I’m glad you’re having a good time, but I was thinking it might get a little suspicious if we’re in here much longer,” He comments

“Unfortunately I think we’ve already passed that threshold,” You remark.

“Not for me,” He scoffs.

“Oh, you think you’d need more time to get me off?” You ask innocently with a shocked look on your face. 

Joe immediately backtracks and drops your arm. “What? No!” He proclaims, furrowing his brows and shaking his head. “I mean- I meant- I was saying that I would-”

Your laughter cuts him off. “Relaaax, I was joking,” You soothe as he pushes on the exit door, letting you both back out to the rest of the team.

“Yeah, yeah,” He drawls. “Keep talking, see where it gets ya.”

All of your friends watch you and Joe like hawks as you approach. The sun has fully risen at this point, and Joe was right about the heat amping up, because your happy mood is quickly being dampened by the sweat already wicking your brow.

“Now where have you two been?” Ja’marr scolds like a mother with a small smile creeping onto his face. 

“Keeping out of this damn heat,” You snap back. And it’s true. Nothing technically happened in there.

“Mmhm,” Kelia hums, but adds nothing to it.

“So…can we go back to Heads Up?” Grace asks quietly. Everyone looks at each other, and with a collective shrug, Kelia pulls her phone out.

“Joe’s not on my team this time, bruh.”

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * 

After the longest series of Heads Up ever played, and the most boring yet nerve-wracking bus ride from Baton Rouge to Austin, you finally catch a glimpse of DKR Texas Memorial Stadium. You jump up from your window seat and press your finger to the glass, violently tapping Kelia’s shoulder so she takes off her noise cancellation headphones.

“Ugh, what,” She spits out with a grimace, begrudgingly sliding her headphones onto her neck after being wildly immersed in whatever video is playing on her iPhone. 

“We’re so close,” You squeal while poking your finger over and over on the window where the stadium is, practically daydreaming of the minute you get off this frigid charter and get to stretch your limbs. 

“Oh bless,” She groans, suddenly no longer interested in the Bachelorette Top 10 Moments. Both of you begin gathering your items and picking up trash you left from your snack time, quickly running over the team’s updated schedule after your two hour setback. 

Your first steps off the bus are exactly as you dreamed for all of thirty seconds, until you’re told to race to the away lockers and get in your warm up gear. The away locker room is boring and bland as usual, but bustling with energy and excitement, especially because you can hear the Texas crew getting ready next door. While you obviously don’t compete with their dancers, you’re a team that likes to stand up for the football program, and anyone in burnt orange is public enemy number one. After a good-enough makeup job you did on the road, you just have to take off your crisp white warm up jacket, and step into your purple joggers to be ready. 

The Tiger Girls jog out to the stadium together, finding that you’ve exited on the home sideline, and will have to go across the field to get to the away sideline. You veer left to avoid the right side of the field where Texas football has already started their warm ups, sticking to where LSU football is stretching. You have to cut through some spread out players, and lightly high-five Justin when he outstretches his hand to you. 

You stop when you hit the away benches, walking left until there are no more benches and you’re closer to the end zone. While you wait for the other girls to catch up, you take a good look around the ginormous stadium, anticipating what it will be like at 7:30pm full of 100,000 spectators. “Well, it’s no Death Valley…but it will do,” You smirk at Tay, who’s usually next to you in formation for sideline. 

Coach Kandace is already leaning on the wall that separates the field at the stands with a whistle in her mouth. She’s immediately putting the team through a quick full body warm up with stretching, a jog from one end zone to the other, and some light tumbling. You ease through the motions of your long-time cheers, Grace calling them out each time as captain. When it comes time for the new ones, you roll through them a couple times until Coach is confident there isn’t one pom out of place. 

“Five minutes for water, then tumbling passes, then stunts, then we’re out,” She barks, finishing with a sharp blow of her whistle. You all stroll over to your water bottles, panting between large gulps. 

After a few minutes Tay gathers herself enough to throw her sweaty arms on your shoulders and deadweight. You stumble slightly out of surprise, and Tay tiredly laughs in response. “Bitch, leave me be,” You groan in faux annoyance, grinning after your light shove causes Tay to take a tumble herself. Tay cackles again, her eyes going to the field after you both sober. 

Together you walk closer to the sideline, basking in the golden hour sun, admiring the vast stadium, and observing the two teams who are finishing up their drills. “Every time,” Tay smirks, nodding towards Joe as he stalks up to the 48 yard line, eyeing down every Texas player across the field. He just stands with his hands on his hips, occasionally pacing from one end of the Texas logo to the other, parallel to the 50 yard line split down the middle of the field. A couple players in burnt orange stop and stare, talking to their teammates and shrugging their shoulders. At one point you think you hear someone yell something to him, but if it did happen Joe doesn’t respond, and nothing comes of it. 

You smile with Tay and shake your head, your need to beat this godforsaken team growing by the minute. It would obviously be epic, but you do also think it would hurt Cam just a little bit, and that counts for something. 

Coach Kandace whistles everyone back into formation, going through the exact chain of events she outlined earlier. Your tumbling pass is a little rusty from the past couple of weeks, but you work out the kinks quickly enough, and surprisingly not one flier is dropped when you finish up with stunts. As Coach flies through the final updated schedule until game time, friends and family of players start to file into the stadium. 

“Mama!” Kelia screams, immediately running towards the wall separating the field and lower bowl. About six feet up leaning on the padded fence is Kelia’s beautiful mom in a bright purple LSU Tigers V neck. Her open mouthed smile is wide as ever as she bends over the fence and extends both of her arms out to Kelia, yelling, “Ahhh my beautiful girl!”

Kelia gets up on her tiptoes just enough to kiss her mom’s cheek and you walk up to the duo with your hands on your hips. “And how are you miss thang?” Kelia’s mom asks you with a squeal and a kiss on your cheek as well. 

“I’m good, thanks,” You laugh and kiss her cheek back, your cheeks hurting from how much you’re smiling. Ever since she helped Kelia move into your shared dorm freshman year she’s been such a light in your life, supporting both you and Kelia as you persevered through classes, practice, and the social hellstorm college can be. 

Kelia and her start gabbing away, bouncing off each other enthusiastically after not seeing each other for about a month. You watch as other Tiger Girls and football players approach their parents, noticing Joe and Ja’marr in their white away uniforms all but 15 feet to your right, approaching two spectators who look to be Joe’s parents. They’re animated as they talk and laugh, and your heart strings pull when you realize you won’t see your parents until the Florida game in October. Somehow so much has happened since you’ve seen them, and lately all you’ve been craving is a hug from your mom. 

Joe looks left and double takes when he makes eye contact with you, flashing you a quick smile and a wave before setting himself back in game mode. Ja’marr follows his eyeline and copies his actions, and you realize now all four of them are looking right at you. You quickly wave back and feel a grin stretch across your face, engaging yourself back into Kelia’s conversation with her mom after. Your heart beats a little faster after you turn, feeling their gazes still burning into you.

The somewhat happy moment is short lived, because two all too familiar voices cut through the air. Cam’s dad, Frank, comes bounding down the stands to your left in burnt orange. His unmistakable Texas twang causes memories of being with him and other members of Cam’s comforting family to come flooding into your mind. Cam’s mom, Lisa, trails behind him in a white LSU football shirt, flanked by their large extended family, each of them also clad in Longhorns gear. 

The group is rowdy and enthusiastic, all barreling towards Cam who jogs up to the group. Kelia and her mom notice, both shooting daggers at the family before looking back at you with sympathy. Your stomach turns further, not knowing if you hate the commotion or your friend’s pity more. You take one last look at the faces you met last spring break when you visited Texas, each of them recognizable except for one.

Or, you don’t recognize her until you see her bag. The same one that was lying on the floor when you caught Cam giving her the head he refused to indulge you in. 

You watch in horror as she bends over the railing the same way Kelia’s mom did, planting a big kiss right on Cam’s mouth. Tears involuntarily prick at your eyes, and you tap Kelia’s shoulder with an, “Oh my god.”

“What?” She exclaims worriedly and snaps her head back around to Cam’s commotion. “Who the fuck is that?!” She demands, her furious eyes coming back around to meet yours. You attempt to keep your resentment at bay, but the fury in Kelia’s eyes validates you, and venom laces your tongue.

“It’s her,” You spit out quietly, the overwhelming shock making it harder for you to find words. “He cheated on me with her.” Cam and his new girlfriends eyes are bright as they converse, laughing away at whatever the fuck is so funny. He keeps one of her hands in his hold, rubbing it softly. You feel like you could genuinely be sick. 

“Oh, honey,” Kelia mumbles while placing a comforting hand on your shoulder, not sure how to immediately comfort you in such a public space–and right before a huge game. 

“What’s wrong?” Ja’marr quips behind you, his usually lighthearted tone now more serious. You tear your gaze off of the sickening couple to whip your head around, meeting his concerned gaze. Joe stands behind him, his hard set face still analyzing your expression that probably looks all kinds of sad, angry, frustrated and confused. 

“Um…nothing,” You say in a shaky voice, darting your eyes between the two and refusing to let the tears pooling in your eyes fall. You clear your throat quietly. “I just need to leave.”

Yes, just go back to the locker room, You tell yourself as you start shoving the few items you brought onto the field into your bag, taking deep breaths to calm the waves of despair and nausea that are washing over you. He is not the one. There’s a game you’re about to cheer for. You are stronger than that. 

The steady self-encouragement helps a little as you rise with your bag, refusing to make eye contact with any of your friends as you stalk off across the field. It takes every ounce of your restraint to not take one last glance over your shoulder. Suddenly the weight of your duffel is nonexistent, and you look to your right to find Joe walking with you side by side, your bag in his left hand and his yellow helmet in his right. His expression stays stoic and his jaw stays set, seemingly completely unfazed and locked into his upcoming match. He doesn’t even meet your eyes, simply walking with you to the locker rooms wordlessly. But you look down at your bag in his hand, then back to his face, knowing this is his support. There’s not much many athletes have to give to anyone else when they compete, needing their full undivided attention to be on their craft. For Joe, this is what he can give you to let you know he cares, even if he doesn’t know exactly what happened. And for you, this is enough.

Your gaze goes back to the extensive stadium, letting yourself breathe in the warm early autumn air as you watch the few clouds that are in the sky drift off. The short walk and Joe’s quiet, but calm and collected energy helps you ground yourself, and by the time you’re in front of the away lockers you feel somewhat removed from Cam and his drama. There’s a part of you that realizes it's a little dangerous how fond you’re getting of Joe, but for now you couldn’t be more grateful. 

Joe looks up at the sign above the door that reads “Away Women’s Lockers” and drops your duffel back in your hand gently. “Thank you,” You say firmly. He responds by meeting your eyes blankly and nodding once, grazing his hand on your upper back in comfort before decisively turning on his heel to head towards the guys locker room.

You’re still breathing deeply as you enter the dingy room, recounting Coach's instructions as  you change into your bright purple cheer skirt with gold trim on the bottom, and cropped high neck tank top with LSU in big yellow lettering across your chest. Other girls file in and out while you re-tie your ponytail and put finishing touches on your makeup, taking one final look in a dusty mirror and grabbing your poms before lining up in the tunnel with the team. 

Eventually you notice the soft rumble of the crowd, which is just stadium noise for now, but will certainly grow into deafening cheers and taunts once the players take the field and the game starts progressing. Your conversation with your teammates gets more enthusiastic when Tay pulls up the ABC Sports app on her phone where their coverage of the game has already started. Tay’s friend who’s an assistant physical therapist always brings a bag full of medical gear onto the sideline, and she lets Tay sneak her phone into her bag sometimes so she has access to it in the tunnel and onto the field. You crowd around her phone in awe as drone footage of the packed stadium comes into view, then cuts to clips of their warmups from earlier where some players on both teams are seen getting into the trash talk already. You all shake your heads, used to a tame but chippy warm up, until a video pops up of Longhorns fans shooting through a Burrow jersey with a cannon. 

“Oooooh,” The group reacts all at once, a couple of you jumping with anticipation.

“They’re gonna regret that,” Grace mumbles with a fire behind her voice, making sure to keep somewhat quiet with the whole Texas football team right ahead of us in the tunnel. The Texas cheerleaders lead their football team out, then you and the rest of the Tiger Girls lead the LSU players out, so you’re currently sandwiched between the two rowdy groups of men. 

“I’m sure Joe has seen it,” Kelia notes, glancing over to the front of the LSU team where Joe is pacing back and forth from wall to wall, occasionally stopping to hold his helmet-clad forehead to one of the walls with intensity. He’s locked in as always, blocking out the noise. You think if you told him he’d just won a million dollars, he wouldn’t hear you. 

“I’m scared for Texas,” You add on, watching as Joe suddenly smashes the side of his head three times on the wall, the impact from his helmet hitting the concrete causing loud, crisp bangs to ricochet through the whole tunnel. A couple of Tiger Girls jump, including Kelia and Grace. Kelia slowly turns to you with wide eyes and a slightly concerned expression and says, “Yeah…me too.”

Everyone takes one last look at Tay’s phone, admiring the crowd and laughing when they cover Joe’s dad who throws up the classic horns down at the camera. The Texas marching band then starts their opening routine, causing Tay to quickly shut off her phone and shove it into her friend’s bag with a quick, “Thank you!” 

Your excitement bubbles and your heart leaps when the stadium sees the band, causing the echo of the crowd noise to swell in the tunnel. Texas players get even louder and crazier as the song comes to an end, most of them jumping, hooting and shouting as they prepare to greet their 98,763 screaming spectators. The song ends, and every athlete in this hall puts on their most merciless, meanest game face, knowing that in just a few moments nothing else in the world will matter more than one thing–glory. 

Suddenly a battle cry breaks from the front of the Texas crowd, causing their entire crew to streamline forward onto the field. The stadium noise crescendos, hitting a fever pitch as the LSU teams are held back by an ABC Sports official that’s coordinating timing. You squeeze the hands of a couple of girls, feeling your heartbeat pounding all throughout your body, ready to unleash your energy. About fifteen seconds later the coordinator releases you, and immediately from the football team you hear someone cry out, “Come on Tigers!”

The uproar that follows is impalpable. You let out a short but loud, “Let’s go!” and don’t hear a single syllable of it due to the noise around you. The entire team breaks out into a fast run, throwing your hands in the air and shimmying your pom poms as you exit the tunnel, the energy and excitement that bursts from the crowd hitting you like a line of cocaine. You bask in the atmosphere and attention, a wide smile stretching across your face, knowing all eyes are on you even though you’re the opposition. You skip up to your spot in formation where you warmed up, the location familiar but different, as the crowd lets you know you’re not as welcome as you were before. Now, a large section of Texas students reside in the silver stands, greeting you with boos and “horns up” hand signs. 

Gotta love it.

A few bright purple LSU shirts stand out towards the front railing, but other than that it’s burnt orange for what seems like miles. You try not to pick out those select few Tiger fans, knowing one of them may be Cam’s mom and locking eyes with the girl whose face is etched into your brain forever is definitely a possibility. 

The rest of the team takes formation with you, and everyone just smiles and shakes their poms in response to the hostile environment. You've cheered sideline for enough games at this point to appreciate the energy of away crowds, and know that throughout the match the team will be able to shut them up by playing well. 

Your smile grows wider at this thought, remembering the cracking sound of Joe slamming his head against the hard wall of the tunnel. Devilish excitement bursts through you, anticipating the moment you get to watch the Texas students’ screaming faces drop in disappointment when Burrow drops dime after dime on their turf.

Good luck, Longhorns. 

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * 

The first quarter is eventful, but trenches-heavy. The Longhorns start the game going three and out, then the Tigers march down the turf and are held to a field goal. Texas gets to the goal line on the next drive, but the LSU defense is able to force a turnover on downs after the refs overturn a Longhorns touchdown, and Texas fails a 4th and goal attempt. Joe almost immediately gets picked off on a tipped pass, putting Texas back in the red zone, but history repeats itself and the Tigers create a second goal line stop on a 4th and goal. The quarter ends with the ball in the hands of the LSU offense and the Tigers up 3-0.

You sigh restlessly on the sideline, hoping the game gets more high scoring. The crowd still isn’t settled with everyone anxious to see the first touchdown of the night, and it’s making Grace’s cheer calls harder to hear. At least the sun is starting to set so you can stop sweating buckets, and each cheer has gone relatively smooth. Luckily the slight pause in action between quarters lets you take a self-breather, getting water and releasing your relentless grip on your poms for a moment. After a minute or two you’re pulled back into the action, anticipating what’s hopefully a scoring drive from LSU.

After the teams switch directions so the Tigers are heading in your direction, they get a couple of first downs, but to your disappointment the drive ends with a punt. The Longhorns then score the first touchdown of the night on the other side of the field with wide receiver Brennan Eagles, reigniting the rowdy crowd you’re cheering in front of. 

The next LSU drive has you on your toes, knowing how LSU responds could be crucial to controlling the momentum of Texas, and in turn the outcome of the game. Clyde Edwards-Helaire is a powerhouse, breaking tackles and running up the field, surprising the Texas defense who’s scheme is built around Joe’s strong passing game. This causes linebackers and defensive backs to second guess their covers, leaving Justin wide open for a long shot in the red zone. On 3rd and goal Joe threads the needle, hitting Jefferson on a dot between two defensive backs, resulting in LSU’s first touchdown of the night. 

Your entire squad lights up, enthusiastically screaming and hugging in celebration before Grace quickly calls out a cheer. Everyone bursts into action, routinely performing the chant while Texas fans hang their heads and throw their hands up in disappointment. 

Yep, exactly that, You think to yourself with an evil little giggle. 

Texas attempts to get points on their next drive to no avail, thanks to Cameron Dicker who missed a 58-yard field goal. LSU attempts a field goal of their own after the Longhorns get a stop in the red zone, and Cade York nails it right down the middle to put the Tigers up 13-7. 

With not much time left in the half, the Tigers are eager to get Texas three and out, putting the ball back in their hands with only 1:13 left. Joe makes quick work of the Longhorns defense with a long sideline pass to Ja’marr, a far laser over the middle to Justin that keeps the clock ticking, and an absolute dime of a 21 yard passing touchdown lofted yet again to number two. It’s almost as if you blinked and the ball was in the end zone. The entire stadium seems to be shocked by your quarterback, who just placed the ball perfectly within reach of Justin, and perfectly out of reach of both his defenders. 

You look back to the line of scrimmage where Joe is talking his shit, roughly beating his chest once with each fist and screaming in the faces of his O-line who hype him up. He points his fingers towards the ground as he walks off the field and continues his long tangent to his teammates, and you can only imagine the cocky boasts that are coming out of his mouth.

You don’t blame him. Everyone’s figuring out who Joe Burrow is now. 

The touchdown cheer you and the team complete is quick, and you’re still beaming. There’s commotion to your right where the football team is, and you look over to see Joe still hyping himself up with his teammates and coaches, this time yelling just a couple words at the students who’ve been sitting right behind our benches. With his helmet now off, you see just how merciless his expression is. The only thing you know is he is out for blood. 

God, he looks so hot. 

You used to love observing Cam on the sidelines, but because he didn’t get much playing time it wasn’t all that entertaining–just a sight for sore eyes. Watching Ja’marr, Justin, and especially Joe is thrilling. They’re electric, intense, and it’s simply more attractive when a guy is actually good at what they do. And these guys aren’t just good–they’re truly some of the best in college football. The cockiness really does work when it’s backed up by how you ball. 

With only one timeout left, Texas has a couple attempts to get upfield, but ultimately lets the clock run out so they can take a breather and strategize for the second half. Things are looking good for LSU at 20-7, but you internally groan as the football players run past the team to the locker room and you have to line up for tumbling passes, absolutely hating this part of the night every time. 

The load lightens when you feel a gloved hand hit your upper back a little harder than you would have expected, and Ja’marr’s adrenaline-filled face is suddenly in your view. “You see that shit?!” He screams at you over the crowd, pointing out at the field with intensity. 

“Yeah, y’all look fucking great!” You shout back with a large smile, hitting his chest to try to get into the football hype-talking spirit. You can tell he barely notices.

“We get another tuddy in this endzone and it’s for that bitch in orange, yeah?!” He continues pointing at the field, then nods to where Cam’s family was earlier with his new girlfriend. Your heart twists when you remember the moment, but the feeling is quickly replaced by an angry one when you realize Ja’marr’s sentiment. He wants to help you show those fuckers. 

There’s a sudden lasering heat you feel in your eyes when you look back at Ja’marr. He looks ready to run through a wall, and you feel yourself wanting to get on that same level when you think about how fucked up what Cam did is. You’re not sure how feminist Ja’marr’s thinking is, saying fuck the girl instead of fuck Cam, but you do recall hearing that the girl was aware of Cam’s relationship with you…and did it anyway.

Suddenly you realize you no longer give a fuck. She’s not a girl's girl, so neither are you.

“Fuck yeah,” You spit back at Ja’marr, this time using both hands to give him a little shove towards the locker room. He stumbles slightly, cackling in surprise at your outburst and immediately turns to Joe who’s walking by, slapping his shoulder and saying, “Aye, nine..” Their voices trail off, and you straighten yourself in the tumbling line again with a newfound fire under your ass.

Your brain goes on autopilot during halftime, throwing fake smiles left and right while your thoughts of Cam and his charming face cause your movements to be harder and sharper with anger. You feel like you’re glancing over at the locker rooms every 30 seconds, eager as ever for the latter half of the game so you can beat these goddamn Longhorns. Both teams finally come bounding out and you’re all business, immediately turning with your poms behind your back once you finish your opening cheer to watch kickoff.

Sides switch yet again, and LSU goes three and out, putting a slight halt in their momentum. Texas goes on to conduct a very long drive that eats up over nine minutes of the quarter, many LSU players being pulled out due to injury as the Longhorns slowly progress up the field. Cam ends up leaving his spot on the bench and subs in for an injured DB, causing your jaw to tense and your eyes to narrow. The drive ends with a touchdown right in front of you on a QB draw, and Texas has now cut your lead down to one touchdown. 

Your heart drops when the Longhorns get a huge defensive stop on LSU’s next possession, yet again holding the team to a field goal. As the clock dwindles, Texas marches up the field to the red zone, and you feel a particularly hard stab of frustration when Cam gets absolutely smoked by Texas’s receiver Jake Smith, resulting in a Longhorns touchdown. LSU’s once comfortable 13 point lead has been reduced to two with the score being 23-21, and everyone can feel that the Tiger’s sideline is now on edge. The fact that Texas fans are now screaming obscenities at you and the players, words you can hear loud and clear, is definitely not helping. 

It gets harder and harder for you to cheer towards the rage-filled Texas crowd, and you start avoiding eye contact as much as you can, looking straight ahead at the orange wall so you don’t focus on the words of crazy spectators. You take a moment to glance at the players on the sideline, noticing Joe sitting still as a stone on the bleachers. 

The fans behind him are far worse than the fans in front of you, almost every one of them staring at his back with fire in their eyes. Many of them are even leaning over the fence to get only slightly closer to him, screaming their heads off in an attempt to get in his head. Joe still sits firmly, but you can tell from his expression he’s listening, and letting it fuel him. His chest rises and falls slowly but deeply, only rising from the bleachers and slamming on his helmet after Coach O nods him over. 

Both teams get even meaner this drive, with Joe immediately hitting Ja’marr on the sideline for a push to the 50 yard line. He gets blown up by a DB while running out of bounds but stays on his feet, causing him to give a nasty look to the back and shake his head, pointing his finger forwards in a “first down” gesture. Texas blitzes after a short run, and Joe gets the ball out quick to Justin over the middle. On his way up from the ground, a defender stands over Justin, causing him to have to shove the defender in order to get up. The two get chippy and a referee separates them but a string of nerves runs through you at the thought of an actual brawl breaking out. You don’t need anything else to hurt your chances of this win. Luckily there’s only 20 seconds left in the quarter, so the Tigers let it run and start holding up four fingers to the sideline stadium. As per tradition the Tiger Girls follow, letting the crowd know it’s serious now–we’re in the fourth quarter. 

With the final side switch of the evening, LSU is now trying to score in the endzone right in front of you. On the first play of the quarter Joe shoots a deep pass across the middle, and Terrace Marshall Jr. earns a 26-yard touchdown. You jump and cheer with your team, letting out a huge sigh of relief because at least it’s now a two possession game. You don’t let yourself get too excited, knowing there’s still the whole rest of the quarter left and there’s still a big possibility that Texas could come back. 

The Longhorns earn a long first down and get up to LSU’s 45-yard line, and the quarterback throws it away on third down making it 4th and two. They decide to go for it, and the safe checkdown play ends up turning into a 43-yard run in for a touchdown, leaving Texas one field goal away from the lead. You and the team all stress on the sideline once again, Tay even grabbing your arm and squeezing a little harder than you expected. Your eyes dart from the field, to Joe, to the screaming Texas crowd, and back to your girls. You believe in the team so badly, and you’re desperately trying to will them to prove themselves. 

Come on, guys.

The ball is back in Joe’s hands, and he looks poised as ever in a hostile stadium full of spectators all betting on him to lose. After the offense quickly converts for a first down, your body jolts in fear when Joe eats a late hit on the next play. There’s a flag to show for it, and of course the stadium erupts in an uproar, but you couldn’t care less. Your eyes are glued to Joe who is on the ground under a ridiculously large body, until suddenly he springs up as if nothing had happened. You scoff as the player who hit him throws his hands up, clearly disagreeing with the call along with the rest of the stadium. 

Don’t hit him then, You think to yourself, furrowing your brows at the notion that Joe could be seriously injured on a play like that. 

The penalty gives LSU a boost towards the end zone, placing them only 23 yards away. The offense picks up another first on a pass, then hands the ball off for Clyde who bends the corner of the Texas D-line to stroll into the endzone. The eleven point lead feels just as good as it did last time, but the Longhorns’ chances of coming back are still just as high. Texas starts inching down the field again, eventually housing another field goal, making the score 37-31. With four minutes left, it’s still anyone’s game. In fact, if the Texas defense gets a stop, their offense will be able to eat away at the clock on their way downfield, score a touchdown, and take the lead by one with essentially no time left. LSU needs to put something on the board right now, or the lead they’ve had all game could slip away in one drive.

The offensive line is surprised by an all out blitz, and the pocket collapses ridiculously quick on Joe as he steps up in an attempt to escape the pass rushers. Your stomach churns as all hope seems lost. You envision the sack, the roar of the crowd that will follow, and the nasty drive the Longhorns are about to pull out. It’s slipping away.

You don’t know how, but Joe keeps his eyes up and finds Justin downfield, managing to still throw right to his receiver’s chest while his leg is being yanked to the ground. The ball is caught firmly by number two, who quickly turns and stiff-arms a Texas safety onto the turf. Justin turns on the jets in the open field as he races down the sideline, arriving right in front of you in the endzone to deliver the knockout punch to Texas. Your mouth hangs open as you and the Tiger Girls go ballistic, jumping and cheering like you never have before. 

Holy fuck! They just did that! 

Your laughter is uncontainable as Tay basically tackles you, and players from both on the field and on the sideline run up to cheer Justin on. He celebrates with them for a few moments before cutting through the sideline and running up to the Tiger Girls. You notice number nine hot on his tail, both of the men stalking up to you. 

Oh god, what is happening?

“Hey, you like that?!” Joe’s screams as his raw football voice comes out, his finger pointing right at you as he approaches.

“Fuck yeah!” You shout back, shoving his shoulder pads with both hands like you did to Ja’marr earlier, except Joe doesn’t go anywhere when you push, he just gets even closer. He slings an arm over your shoulder, pulls your side into his and faces you back towards the crowd, another sweaty body smothering your other side when Justin mirrors him. Both of them shoot out their arms and do the horns down gesture to the now butthurt section of Texas kids, Justin leaning his head down slightly to tell you to “put your fucking hands up.”

You’re thinking only of Cam and his new stupid girlfriend as you pull both of your arms up to match Justin and Joe’s, the Texas fans overly disappointed at their inevitable loss, but still yelling in disapproval of all of your hand gestures. The three of you hold your pose to piss off the crowd until Joe points at a cameraman rushing to get a picture, and you keep still for the photo op.  “Fuck you, horns fucking down!” Justin yells out once the camera man walks off, still riding the high of his last touchdown. 

“My fucking house!” Joe adds on with a beat to his chest as he removes his arm from your shoulder to walk closer to the crowd and down the sideline towards the benches. Justin follows him and keeps talking to the hostile spectators as well, while you struggle to get the wide grin off your face. You continue to watch as Joe starts princess waving to those fans that were behind him all game, chirping insults and obscenities that surely drove him crazy. Rubbing the dominant win in their faces just feels so sweet, and the cocky look on Joe’s sweaty face under the white lights of the stadium makes your heart beat even faster than it already is.

“That was fucking crazy,” Tay tries to project over the stadium noise and rowdy LSU bench, throwing her arms around you for another big hug. Your laughter just continues to ring as you both sway back and forth in the embrace, until you hear Grace call out another touchdown cheer. 

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * 

The rest of the game flashes by in a blur. Texas scored another touchdown, which no one really cared about because there was only 22 seconds left and LSU was about to get the ball. The Longhorns’ onside kick was of course not recovered, so Joe easily took a knee to seal the game. 

After completing a couple more practiced chants and waving goodbye to spectators for what feels like forever, Grace finally releases the team from formation. Kelia, who is always stationed on the opposite side of you and Tay immediately prances over to the two of you, squealing and hopping around. 

“We fucking did it!” She yelps and tackles both of you in a bear hug, hoots and excited screams bursting everyone’s eardrums. Your face is flushed and you can feel your tight ponytail sagging slightly, a few small hairs that have escaped sticking to your damp forehead, but you couldn’t care less. The pure adrenaline and thrill of winning a neck-and-neck away game trumps any tiredness you may feel in your muscles. Tomorrow morning may be a different story, but right now victory is just sweet. 

“A hug, without me?!” You hear Grace call out teasingly. The circle opens up immediately and she joins in your mini dance party, everyone's voices overlapping as you call out the most intense moments of the match and marvel at the plot like it’s your favorite movie. 

“Grace!” A random voice interjects. You all stop mid sentence, whipping your heads over to the bench to see who could’ve dared to interrupt this moment. A boy in an LSU uniform with a red penny tee over it looks at you…confused. A freshman. “Is one of you…Grace?” He asks quieter this time, looking slightly terrified.

“Um…yeah?” Grace quips back with a hand on her hip.

The freshman doesn’t say a word and just points to the smack dab middle of the field, where most of the cameras have cleared out and now just a few outstanding players and reporters stand. Right where he gestures there are four players standing on the painted Texas logo, the number 1 and 2 frantically waving you over. Only now do you hear a faint, “Grace! Kelia!” coming from their mouths.

Grace practically drops everything to run over to Justin, a goofy grin immediately stretching across her face. You don’t really blame her, because the high you’re riding causes you, Kelia and Tay to quickly follow suit, linking arms and skipping across the field to the 50 yard line. You feel weightless as you fly towards your friends, recognizing Joe and Clyde as the third and fourth bodies, and suddenly Coach Kandace's voice zips through your mind. 

I’ve seen you for the past three weeks try to dance your way out of it and around it. Cut that shit out. It’s not going to solve anything. You need to sit with yourself and your support system, and face it.

Breathless and hopeful, flying through the air, you realize how easy it’s been to face your feelings with your new support system. You’d never called Cam your ex out loud until earlier in the week when you told Ja’marr. Kelia’s rage at seeing Cam’s new girlfriend made you feel okay with being angry too. Performing a number you’d dedicated to the breakup for Joe was nerve wracking, but felt natural to show to him. 

Maybe the key isn’t broken. It’s just been trying to open the wrong door.

“What’s going on?” Tay giggles as you approach, jittery from the excessive skipping. Coach O’s ragged voice suddenly looms over you, calling the football team to the lockers, and everyone in a football uniform’s eyes go wide.

“Okay we gotta be quick people,” Ja’marr says urgently with a clap. “We wanted to get a picture on the dumbass Texas logo.” Looking to your right, you notice Grace is no longer by your side and is up in the air. On Justin’s shoulders. 

“Woah,” You exclaim in surprise, wondering when the fuck she got up there.

“Yep, we’re doing it,” Clyde says with a sly grin. 

“And again, we do not have all night,” Ja’marr comments, using hand motions to emphasize the need for speed. “Joe, you got it.” 

Two large hands are immediately on your waist with a commanding grip. “Ready?” You hear Joe’s gruff voice behind you. The electric touch and looming presence on your back causes you to flush, and you quickly put your hands on Joe’s to stop him. 

“Wait, wait, wait! Do you know how to do this?” You protest.

“Just jump,” He mumbles sassily. “One, two-”

“I don’t know-”

“-three!”

You comply, fully dipping and jumping with a petrified yelp. Joe easily lifts you high in the air, ducking his head under your backside to give you a firm seat on his shoulders, a leg on each side of his head. Your skirt rides up your thighs slightly, and his hands slip to the exposed skin to keep you stable, leaving a frenzy of tingles in their wake. One of your palms instinctively lands in his wavy hair for support, and you let out a big sigh when you realize that you made it up there alive, and that you haven’t breathed since his hands came in contact with your legs. 

Girl, stand UP. 

“See, you made it,” Joe laughs dryly, causing his chest and shoulders to shake slightly. His thumbs rub up and down your thighs slowly, intending to comfort you but only making you more lightheaded. 

You huff and roll your eyes, finally removing your hand from his head and placing both of them on your hips. “I could’ve died,” You retort flatly. “You know, I don’t think the NFL rocks with first degree murder.”

“Hm, I didn’t know.”

“Read up on it.”

“You should read up on balancing lessons. Why does it feel like you’re about two seconds from falling flat on your-”

“Okay!” A cheerful voice rings out, cutting off your banter with Joe. You look around and realize everyone else is already lined up next to you, with Justin and Grace on your right, Ja’marr and Tay on your left, and Clyde and Kelia to the left of them. Luckily everyone seems to have safely made it onto their respective players’ shoulders, and the group is positioned right in the middle of the Texas logo that’s been painted onto the turf. 

Cassidy, a sophomore Tiger girl, is in front of you all with an iPhone, ready to snap the picture. “Just do a normal one first,” She calls out to the group. You’re close enough to wrap your arms around Grace and Tay’s shoulders, so you stay there for a couple seconds, then everyone starts to do various “candid” poses with their hands in the air, peace signs, and excited faces. 

“Cute, cute, cute!” Cassidy squeals. “Okay, y'all have gotta do it…horns down!”

Everyone laughs and hoots out little jabs at Texas, giving the camera the insulting gesture with one or two hands, and putting on tough faces. 

“Love it, yay!” Cassidy smiles, waiting for Tay to dismount before giving Ja’marr his phone back. Joe squats far down enough for your feet to touch the orange turf, giving you his hand to keep you upright.

Joe opens his mouth to speak, but is immediately whisked away by Ja’marr. “We gotta go!” Uno shouts over his shoulder while ushering all the boys into a run. Justin tries to get a quick cheek-kiss to Grace but misses horribly due to Ja’marr’s almost violent tug on his arm. He trips over his own feet for a moment and you all giggle at the guys’ antics, sitting in your amusement until Cassidy’s heavy yawn interrupts.

“Sorry,” She says sheepishly. “This night has been incredible, but I’ve never gotten tired this quickly after a game.”

You laugh knowingly. “Oh yeah. I don’t know when I’ll hit that wall, but I’m riding this high as long as I can,” You respond while pulling her into a small side hug, her tired smile a clear indication of how quickly she’s about to pass out on the bus. 

The group treks back to the sideline in search of your poms and other materials, sure to leave nothing behind considering it’s an away game. The chaotic atmosphere is evident given that after a big win, most organizational efforts are abandoned and your coaches just want anyone wearing LSU gear to get their ass on a bus by 11:15. That chaos seems to fade into the background as you begin to depart. 

Your body feels like a feather as you float across the stadium and into the locker room, taking your time as you let your aching hair down and gently swipe off your sweaty makeup. The sweet, giddy conversations you have with your girls keeps a soft smile on your face, and you wish you could sit in this glow forever. Eventually most of the room has cleared out, and you figure you should probably start making your way to the buses. 

You start rummaging through your packed bag in search of your bright purple LSU Tiger Girls hoodie, which is an essential on the upcoming six hour bus ride. The charter buses blast the A/C, and you’ve learned that to come without some kind of cover up is a death sentence. Unfortunately your demise readily approaches as you realize your hoodie is nowhere to be found, and the image of it sprawled lazily on the floor of Joe’s truck suddenly pops into your mind. 

I left it in his fucking truck.

Your shoulders immediately slump and you grumpily zip up your bag, knowing there’s no use in continuing to search. Hopefully you crash hard enough on the bus to fall asleep with no problem, but you’re not sure how well that will work out in only a warm up tank top. 

Grace and Kelia are throwing out their makeup wipes when you join Tay who’s waiting by the exit on her phone, an oversized hoodie pulled all the way over her head. You quickly try to pull the strings as a little prank, but your hand is harmlessly swatted away. Tay sticks her tongue out at you mockingly so you fake a pout, shoving a smile down. 

“We ready?” Kelia asks as her and Grace approach, both of them also clad in large sweat sets. 

“Yeah,” Tay confirms and you all exit the locker room, noticing pretty much everyone else in the entire away team hall has cleared out. 

Coach O is standing in the doorway of the football locker room, yelling in his thick southern accent, “Come on now, y’all got five minutes to get your asses on that bus!” All of you jump at the sudden exclamation, not seeing Coach at first, but certainly hearing him. Orgeron looks over at the group and has no problem instructing you as well, as if your team was his own. “Good job tonight girls, we’ve only got one bus left so get on it.” He even throws a thumbs up in there too.

“Thanks Coach!” Kelia sweetly beams as you all nod, about to follow the order until Clyde and Justin come bounding out of their locker room. There’s immediate commotion with Justin and Grace hugging and laughing, Clyde wondering if someone got a picture of his touchdown, and Joe and Ja’marr quickly joining the group seconds later. Kelia’s elbow digs into your ribs and she nods towards Joe mouthing “Mission Rebound!” with wide eyes and a sneaky grin. You roll your eyes, your response getting cut off by the man himself approaching you. 

“Hey,” Joe rasps, his voice obviously tired from calling his cadence all night and screaming in victory. Fortunately the result sounds heavenly. He grabs your dance bag from you before you can blink, and hooks his other arm over your shoulders to pull you into his side. You instinctively follow his embrace, leaning into his warm, freshly cleaned body.

Jesus this man smells good.

Another body exiting the locker room causes all nearby conversation to halt. Your eyebrows furrow and you turn around still attached to Joe, your throat catching when you’re suddenly eye to eye with Cam. The tension is evident, and the fact that everyone else behind you is staring like this is their personal reality TV show does not help. 

He stops and gives you a hard stare, chest puffed and eyes darting from you to Joe. You watch as realization flashes across his face, and the position you and Joe are currently in causes fury to wash over him. Joe doesn’t even stiffen, only clenches his jaw and stares right back. 

Cam lets out a humorless laugh. “Oh, that was quick,” He spits out at you, motioning to Joe and tilting his head lower as if he has to look down at you. Trying to make you feel small.

You feel your eye twitch. This motherfucker. “Absolutely pathetic coming from you,” You respond sharply. 

Cam just rolls his eyes. “‘Aight,” He quips, giving Joe one last stare before walking off towards the bus. 

You let out a long breath you didn’t know you were holding, shaking your head quickly to get him out of your brain. Your friends all seem to do the same as you turn back towards them.

“Oh I will smack him-”

“What did he think he was doing-”

“Yikes-”

“Why is he such a laaame?” Ja’marr whines like a little kid, stomping his foot on the ground. Everyone cackles at this, collectively agreeing and starting the trek to the bus. 

Joe stays solid next to you, rubbing his hand up and down your shoulder and pulling you into his side tighter. “I never got to ask–how was the show?” Joe asks with a boyish grin, his hair still slightly wet from the quick shower the boys get to take after games (It’s such a crime the difference between male and female locker rooms). 

“Insane,” You respond, letting your head fall into his warm chest for a moment, getting another whiff of his calming cucumber body wash. “I don’t think I’ve ever been to a game as amazing as that one. I was so so nervous at certain points, I can’t lie, but you all are just…incredible.”

He lets out a throaty laugh when you mention your nerves, and starts obnoxiously swaying the both of you back and forth as you walk, as if you were in a ballpark singing Take Me Out to the Ball Game. You almost fall a couple times, causing you to try and get him to stop, (to no avail) and the both of you snicker like little kids as you goof off down the hall.

“Yeah, it wasn’t easy, but we did it,” He responds, finishing the statement with a broad, cheesy grin. It’s at this moment that you decide post-game Joe is your favorite Joe. You feel like every other time you see him he’s mostly all business, focused on his grind, trying to be a straightforward, picture perfect leader. That Joe is great, but there’s something so special about the guy you’re talking to right now. He’s got a cute twinkle in his eye, an infectious, giggly nature, and a warm, comforting glow that makes you want to package him up with a little bow and put him in your pocket. His touch is soft, his words are sweet, and his smile is youthful. 

Aw. 

“I wanna do it again, and again, and again,” Joe comments with a happy sigh. 

“Justin’s last touchdown was insane. I don’t know why I almost got scared when you guys ran up to me,” You recall.

Joe snorts. “Baby, you looked terrified. What’d you think was gonna happen?”

“I don’t know, you’re these big guys sprinting towards me!”

His cackle rings out again, and your heart starts doing somersaults. “We probably did look a little crazy. But I couldn’t help myself, you looked so beautiful!” Joe announces, grabbing your hand to raise it above your head and unexpectedly spin you a couple of times. Your laughter feels never ending, and a light blush coats your cheeks as you’re tugged back tight into his side. 

“Oh you’re too kind,” You joke. Glancing back up at Joe, you wrap both arms around his waist and rest your chin on his chest. “I am really proud of you,” You confess softly. 

He looks so adorable with his crinkly eyes and flushed cheeks, and you can’t help yourself. Your arm reaches up to his neck and you pull his face down to yours, planting a quick kiss on his cheek. Joe’s face is immediately redder, and he pulls an arm up to scratch the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Thanks,” He mumbles with a wide smile, trying to recover from the break in his facade with a kiss to your forehead. “I’m proud of you too.”

Finally the last bus is in view, with all of the other vehicles clearly already en route back to Louisiana. Coach O and the Tiger Girls’ assistant coach stand on each side of the door, going down the list of players that have yet to be accounted for and crossing off your names as you and Joe climb onto the bus. 

You almost always enjoy the bus ride home more than the bus ride to the game, because in all of the post-game commotion, the gender separation bus rules are usually abandoned, and you can sit with whoever you want. When Joe finds an open row and grabs your hand to pull you onto the seat next to him, you’re even more thankful for the chaos. The fiery look Cam’s giving you from many rows back doesn’t go unnoticed, and you make it a point to very obviously follow Joe’s lead.

Watch all you want, bitch.

Joe settles in quickly, shoving each of your bags under your respective seats. It’s pretty spacious because it’s a charter bus, so you can lazily slump in your own space, but the harsh chill of the A/C immediately hits you and your hopes of sleeping peacefully without your sweatshirt are on a swift decline. Goosebumps involuntarily appear on your arms, and you instinctively try to cover them with your hands.

“Where’s your sweatshirt?” Joe suddenly questions, a blank look on his face. 

“I left it in your truck actually,” You admit awkwardly, trying to push yourself further into the rough but somewhat woolen seat. Maybe it will provide you a little more warmth. 

You can see what’s coming before it happens. Joe wordlessly starts removing the light gray LSU Football sweatshirt he’s wearing, and you’re quick to protest, sitting up and waving your hands. “Don’t even, Joe. It’s freezing in here, and you’re not going to be able to sleep,” You scold. It’s useless, because he just continues his movements and ignores you. 

“Blah, blah blah,” He mocks when he gets the hoodie off and places it lightly on your lap. You notice a large 9 is printed across the back, like a jersey. “I have another one.” He raises his eyebrows at you pointedly before rummaging through his duffel to pull out the sweatshirt you saw him wearing to the game.

This comment silences you, and you quickly give in when another waft of cold air brushes across your body. “Well if you have another one,” You mumble, throwing Joe’s large hoodie over your head, his left over body heat immediately warming you up. The hood naturally falls on your forehead, the oversized fit causing it to fall all the way over your eyes and part of your nose. You hear Joe’s squeaky giggle from right next to you.

“Where’d you go?!” He jokes, his dorky smile coming into view when he pushes the hood farther back so you can see. 

All you can smell is woodsy musk and fresh laundry, and the aroma combined with the cozy cotton of the sweatshirt causes your brain to slow way down. You can feel the exhaust setting in, your time to crash steadily approaching. The smile you give to Joe is tired, and your response is quiet. “Thanks, Joe.”

“Mmhm,” He hums with a small smirk, watching as you slump back onto your seat. Coach O climbs onto the bus as the last couple athletes make their way into their seats, and the bus driver immediately shuts off the lights. Your limbs grow heavier and heavier, then here’s a moment where your eyes glaze over and observe Joe intently. 

He looks so comfy…

“Sweetheart?” Joe calls knowingly.

“Hm?”

“You gettin’ tired?”

“Yeah.”

Warm, large hands grab your waist and you’re slowly being pulled towards Joe’s body. He settles your head right on his chest and guides your arms around his torso, letting you use him as a human pillow. Your legs dangle off your seat until Joe grabs the back of one of your knees and pulls it to rest on his lap between his comfortable manspread.

You want to be surprised, but are too tired to react, and let yourself give in to his rather mundane actions. The freshly washed cotton hoodie rubbing against your cheek and rhythmic motion of Joe’s fingertips grazing up and down your back lulls you to sleep quickly. 

“Goodnight, Joe,” You whisper. 

“Goodnight,” He whispers back, another soft forehead kiss the last thing you feel before your muscles finally go limp, and sleep drags you under.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * 

A slight shake rumbles through your body, and you twitch in displeasure. A small light clicks on in your brain, your consciousness peeking through a vast sea of utter darkness, until you hear your name being softly called. Your eyes open warily, adjusting to the cool light seeping through the windows, signifying the early stages of a sunrise. You recall your surroundings, clutching onto the thick fabric of Joe’s sweatshirt to make sure everything you’re remembering is real. The familiar pattern of his hand on your back still continues, until his full palm stretches out to shake you once more.

“Y’gotta get up, we're here,” Joe’s rugged voice mumbles, trying to be kind, but laced with sleep. You sigh deeply and force yourself to move, slowly untangling your arms from his torso and throwing them into the air for a nice stretch. 

“Good morning,” You yawn out, trying to get your stiff body back to its usual limber self. 

“Too early of a morning,” He complains from his sprawled out position, showing you with his phone that it’s about 6:00am. 

“Yeah, I’m about to pass out again when I get home,” You comment, retrieving your bag from under your seat and making sure you have all of your items. There isn’t much discussion as the two of you slowly vacate the space, thanking the driver as you hop off the bus and gather with the group you arrived with. 

Everyone is half asleep, so the group wordlessly walks to Joe’s truck, all of you clearly feeling major separation anxiety from your beds. You pile in the same way as was before, and Ja’marr doesn’t even bother trying to connect to the aux, leaving the car ride silent but comfortable. Grace takes a picture of the sunrise now perfectly casting over the front windshield, making the sky bluer and bluer by the moment. She smiles and shows Justin the picture from his lap, him responding with a grin of his own and a kiss to her shoulder. 

It’s not long before Joe parks in front of your building, hopping out of the driver’s seat to lift up the cover on the trunk. Each of you trudges out of the tall truck, tiredly thanking Joe as he tugs each of your bags out of the back. 

“I’m gonna crash, but I’m sure Ja’marr will want people over later for pizza,” Joe mumbles, putting a light hand on your waist while he says goodbye. 

“I’ll ask him about it,” You respond sleepily, pulling him in for a quick hug before he nods off in front of you. “Sleep well, Joe.” 

“You too,” He whispers, taking one last breath before pulling away. You have to rip yourself from Joe’s arms, your body immediately whining and complaining at his dwindling proximity as you wave and back away. The morning chill creeps up on you while you drag your feet up to your apartment, silent and slightly somber as you click the lock to shut your door. 

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * 

Thudding bass can already be felt in your feet from two floors down, so you don’t even re-confirm the address Ja’marr sent to you. You know you’re at the right place.

After a couple more hours of sleep and a rejuvenating Sunday reset, you and all your roomies were not surprised to hear that the two star wide receivers wanted to have a post-game pizza night. As it was explained, this has been their usual routine every Sunday after a win, but they feel that this time it should be special–a little boozier. Tomorrow is Labor Day after all, and you won’t have a single class or practice to go to. 

So here the four of you are, clamoring up a couple flights of stairs towards the source of the loud music, dying to get your hands on some greasy, cheesy goodness. 

Everyone reaches the top of the steps, now only a couple doors down from Ja’marr and Justin’s apartment. “Damn, who hooked them up with all this?” Kelia pouts, gesturing to the clean, wooden doors with working locks and fancy door lights. Your apartment is better than most dorms, but it’s clear the football team lives in luxury. 

“Got me,” Grace scoffs. “Just wait til you see the inside.” She turns and pounds on Ja’marr and Justin’s door with little delicacy, probably so the hooligans inside can hear her knocking. It miraculously works after a few moments, Ja’marr swinging the door wide open with a beer in his hand.

“Ayeee!” He exclaims, beaming and throwing his hands up in excitement. “Come in guys!” Ja’marr steps to the side slightly to let the group into his apartment, giving you all short hugs as you enter. “Grab whatever you want from the fridge, the pizza’s on the counter,” He points out, gesturing to both the double doored fridge and many boxes of pizza laying on the large island countertop. 

“Oh you were not joking,” You mumble to Grace, looking around in awe at the spacious two bedroom apartment. The floors are clean wood, with no scratches or dirt hiding between panels. A large kitchen is immediately to your right, with painted cupboards and a modern backsplash, counter space going as far as the eye can see. The living room is just ahead of you, with enough square footage to hold two very comfy looking sofas, a large coffee table, and a huge TV. You can’t even begin to imagine how much space they have in their bedrooms.

Or how nice their bathrooms must be. You pout to yourself. 

While the music is pretty loud, you have no problem conversing at a somewhat normal volume. A couple other football players and girls you haven’t met, but recognize, loiter around the living room and kitchen, but it really is a chill hangout. While some of you are partiers and some aren't, student athletes have to limit their alcohol intake to pretty much zero when in-season, so it makes sense it’s such a small group–honestly, you’re grateful for it. 

“There you are,” A loud sigh comes from the living room, a tall, broad Joe clad in a cotton black tee and light wash jeans walking towards you with a purpose. His fluffy, dark blonde hair sits messily on his head, a couple strands falling onto his forehead. Sleep did him justice, eliminating his slouched posture and puffy face, and reviving his confident strut and strong facial features.

How did he go from adorable and snuggly, to confident and sexy in 10 hours?

A panty-dropping smile stretches across his lips as he approaches you, pulling you into a strong hug. His woodsy, musky scent sends a small flash of heat between your legs, and it’s in that moment you realize just how dangerous he’s going to be for you tonight. 

“Damn, we’re chopped liver!” Tay sasses, crossing her arms at Joe jokingly. He boasts a laugh, giving each of your friends short hugs. 

“Hey, guys,” Joe greets. “Please grab food and drinks before Ja’marr and Justin take literally all of it.”

“Oh, we will. In fact, I need a plate right now,” Kelia responds, making a beeline for the stacks of pizza boxes. Everyone scampers after her, eagerly filing through the boxes and asking what toppings are available. You grab a paper plate, your heart almost leaping out of your chest when a warm palm finds your hip and pulls you slightly backwards into a large body. Joe’s arm appears in front of you, grabbing a plate of his own.

You’re a little surprised by Joe’s somewhat forwardness, but the fiery feeling he’s causing overrides any bashfulness you may have displayed in front of your friends. You attempt to ignore some less than subtle reactions from the peanut gallery and casually grab a slice, moving with Joe as his hands guide you to the fridge.

“Want a drink?” He asks while grabbing a Yuengling, presumably for himself. 

“Sure, a High Noon if that’s fine,” You reply, taking the cold can when it’s handed to you. 

Joe grabs your other hand and guides you over to the living room couch. He casually plops down in the middle, stretching a beefy arm over the back and letting his thick thighs part in a confident manspread. He looks huge, taking up so much space with not only his body, but his demeanor as well. He’s coming off a huge win, looking poised, relaxed, like he owns the place. It’s so hot.

And you’re so horny.

Joe raises his eyebrows at you and nods to the spot next to him, waiting for you to join. You slide into place, daringly closer to his body than you thought you would be, but Joe doesn’t seem to mind because he just scoots even further towards you, leaning into your touch. A whiff of his woodsy scent just further ignites the growing fire of need inside you. You take a sip of your drink to cool down, knowing this is the start of a very long night.

And a long night it is. 

You and Joe are attached at the hip, teasing, laughing, and touching all evening. As you both nurse a couple of drinks, the added buzz of a little bit of alcohol makes your words honest, stares heated, and touches lingering. You flirt back and forth for what feels like forever, your anticipation on a steady incline, and you start to wonder if you should make the first move, or if everything you’re feeling is just a result of your clear sexual frustration.

A couple hours in, Joe takes a hit from Ja'marr's spliff, and you watch his strong jaw contract, sucking in. He lets his head fall back and you watch helplessly as the smoke lazily leaves his mouth, creating a dangerous haze of second hand intoxication and pure sex appeal. It’s at that moment that you decide to get to a bathroom and splash some cold water on your face to try to chill your horny ass out. 

The water calms your flushed cheeks, but does little to tame the overwhelming need you’re frustrated with. It’s only a matter of time before you act upon it, which could result in you doing something stupid or embarrassing, but could also result in some great sex. 

I don’t know what I’m doing. What the fuck.

Your trip to the bathroom comes up short of your expectations, and you leave no better than how you entered. 

Joe’s stands at his full height when you return to the living room, seemingly waiting for your arrival. “Hey, I just remembered you left your sweatshirt in my truck again this morning, want to go grab it?” He asks, starting to dig out his keys from his jean pocket. 

“Oh, yes,” You respond, actually excited to get your favorite lazy day clothing item back in your possession. Not to mention, your only official Tiger Girls sweatshirt.

“Hey, I know you’re not leaving with keys in your hand,” Ja’marr scolds when he sees the two of you walking towards the door, narrowing his eyes.

“We’re grabbing her sweatshirt, no driving,” Joe clarifies, throwing a peace sign behind his back and strolling out of the apartment. 

You roll your eyes at Joe and turn to Ja’marr. “Thanks for checking,” You comment with a smile, shutting the door behind you. 

The party music coming from inside immediately muffles afterwards, and the sound of the cicadas chirping in the trees fills the gaps, sobering you slightly. A cool night breeze floats by, giving you a break from Louisiana’s early September humidity, and you feel like you’re in a daze as you lazily follow Joe down the stairs and across the parking lot to his truck.

Joe lets out a long sigh as he unlocks the car. “What’s up?” You ask softly.

“Nothing,” He answers honestly, “I just needed fresh air. It’s getting muggy in there.” He opens the backseat door, revealing your prized Tiger Girls sweatshirt in all its glory. 

“Yay!” You cheer, stepping up to the seat and grabbing the clothing, pulling it over your head. 

Suddenly, a thought hits you. You realize that if you left your sweatshirt here, the one you wore to bed immediately after that bus ride certainly wasn’t yours. 

It was Joe’s.

“Oh shit, I still have your sweatshirt,” You announce, putting your hands on your hips as Joe reaches behind you to shut the door to the truck with a chuckle.

“Yeah…don’t worry about it. I don’t mind,” He trails off, a cocky look flashing across his face. 

You narrow your eyes at him questioningly. “Why are you making that face?” You pry.

Joe raises a hand up to rub the back of his neck. “Honestly? I’ve been thinking about the look on Delpit’s face if he ever sees you in it,” He admits with a cheeky smile.

“Oh, of course,” You boast with a laugh and an eye roll. 

“Hey, it would be funny!” Joe retorts, raising his hands in self defense. 

There’s a knowing silence before Joe breaks it, taking a step closer to you. “Though, I’m not so sure he would be very happy with me tonight either,” He says lowly, heat flashing through his eyes. Your mirror his step, and your back comes into contact with the cool, metal truck door, your heart beating a little faster when you realize there’s no avoiding his overwhelming proximity now. 

“No, he probably wouldn’t,” You breathe out, losing yourself in his bright blue eyes. Joe stares you down with a light smirk pulling up one side of his full lips, wasting no time making the gap between you smaller and smaller. 

One of his large hands finds its way onto your hip, resting comfortably, though the heat it generates makes you anything but. Now that you’re truly alone, desperation strikes you hard, and you don’t know if you want to squirm or climb him like a tree. You’re so sexually frustrated this one touch has you begging, and you can’t help but think of how he’ll have you when he puts in some real work. The images flashing through your mind cause your resolve to slip further and further away, and your body naturally responds to his welcome touch.

You realize you need it. 

“What’re you thinking about in that pretty little head?” Joe asks with a sultry tone that tells you he already knows, he just wants to see you suffer. His large frame looms over you now, stormy eyes still locked on you with his chin tipped down and his head tilted in a questioning manner. The smirk still dances across his face, and his eyebrows are slightly raised, letting you know you’re not getting out of the question any time soon.

You try to speak, but your throat catches, and you don’t even know what you were going to say anyway. He knows. You don’t want to say it. But he’s not going to do anything until he hears it.

“You,” You breathe out, trying to steady your breathing a little. You know your answer is far too vague, and your brain starts fishing for something, anything to say next. It’s quite rare you’re rendered speechless.

“Hmm,” Joe’s hum rumbles low in his throat, his small smirk growing larger by the second as his second hand finds your other hip, easily sliding around to your lower back to pull himself even closer to you. “Anything in particular?” His palms circle slowly, easily, from your lower back to your hips and back around, occasionally slipping under your shirt so his fingertips graze your bare skin. You almost whine at the contact, so close yet so far from what you really want from him. Your resolve is still slipping, slipping, slipping…

I need it.

You let out a small huff. Joe’s smirk curls into a full fledged grin, his eyes never faltering. “No,” You finally retort. “Just…” Joe’s eyebrows shoot up when you trail off, still awaiting your response. 

His hands continue their torturous pattern, sending wave after wave of need through your body each time they come in contact with your hot flesh. You quickly shake your head for a second to try to rid his intoxicating scent from your nose, but you can’t. It just comes right back, circling in your head, forming a haze and pushing heat low in your belly. “Just you,” You finish, knowing you’re losing this battle, that he’ll just keep teasing you endlessly until that last single thread of restraint is snipped. He doesn’t want this unless you’re begging.

Fuck it. I need it.

“And your hands,” You whisper, finally allowing yourself to grip his shoulders for support as your chest starts to rise and fall quickly. A shadow starts to cast over Joe’s face as you speak slowly, his pupils dilating and eyes turning primal as his hands come to a halt on your hips.  

Please, Joe. 

“And your mouth,” You continue, your fingers trailing up his neck and to his jaw, one thumb reaching up to touch his plush lower lip, applying pressure until it snaps back into place. The strong hands on your sides push you flush against the car door, and Joe steps into you, your bodies brushing against each other with every movement.

Please…

“And any and every way you can make me feel good,” You whine, looking up at Joe with desperate eyes and praying your answer is sufficient enough to get you what you want. 

He groans, closing his eyes and throwing his head back for a moment. When it falls and he sets his eyes on you again, he takes a deep breath and pulls your hips flush against his. He asks one question, with a dark, promising tone. “Can I kiss you?”

“Please,” You utter, both of you falling into each other helplessly. Your first kiss with Joe is electric, and you feel hypnotized by his hot mouth against yours, controlled, relentless, and full of power. One of Joe’s hands leaves your hip and trails up your body, finding the side of your face to allow himself to kiss you deeper. Your hands slide to his bulging biceps, needing some sort of grounding due to the fog you’re falling further into. Joe pulls away slowly, leaving a couple pecks as a parting gift before fully giving you room to breathe. 

You’re both panting softly, somewhat satisfied you’ve at least cut the tension, but still hungry for so much more. Joe eyes you like you’re a meal, his eyes darting from your eyes to your lips every few seconds. “You’re certainly trouble,” He purrs, dipping his head back down to you and slowly placing wet kisses from your jaw down to your collarbone. 

“Joe,” You moan and swing your arms around his neck as he moves back up, not sure if your body can take much more of is slow, tantalizing torture before you implode. “I need you.” The admission is raw, and causes you to flush further.

“I know, baby,” He murmurs against your ear, pressing his mouth under it just after. “I just want you dripping.”

Your pulse pounds, and Joe chuckles when he feels it. He places wet kisses on the pressure point and flattens his tongue before blowing softly, the sudden cool causing you to shiver in pleasure. You pull a hand down from Joe’s neck, grabbing his jaw and pulling his lips to yours, already addicted to the feeling of his soft, yet demanding mouth. 

You kiss him with need, letting your hand fall back into his fluffy hair as you scratch his scalp, eliciting a groan from him. The vibration travels down your whole body, causing your heart to jump and your insides to mush. It’s not long very long before the kiss turns feverish, each open mouthed caress radiating through you and down to your core, leaving both of you breathless and moaning. 

Joe whispers your name between kisses a few times, eventually restraining himself enough to get a full sentence to you. “Come on,” He murmurs, using one strong arm around your lower back to tug you off of the car and back towards the dorm building. “I’d love to fuck you in my car, but,” Kiss. “Bed’s better.”

“Good call,” You pant, forcing yourself to let him go by telling yourself you just need to get up to his room and you’ll have plenty more time together. Joe quickly turns his back to you to make his way to the building but catches your hand, eagerly guiding you up only one flight of stairs. 

You spend your short travel time in a daze, too hot and bothered to think of anything other than when you can kiss Joe next. The only reason your patience doesn’t wear thin while he enters in the code to his door, is because you get to stare at his broad back while he does it.

You enter an apartment that looks similar to Justin and Ja’marr’s, at least with the lights off. Joe doesn’t bother to turn them on, stalking straight past the modest kitchen and living room, down the singular hallway. The layout is different, you assume because it’s a single. No roommates.

You follow Joe hastily, and the second his bedroom door swings shut behind you you’re backed up against it with hands on your waist. Joe’s eyes meet yours with such intensity, adoration, and promise, saying everything neither of you are daring to at the moment. He’s saying, Just give in. I’ve got you. 

So you crash your lips against his.

The spell he can put you under quickly returns, needy touches and a punishing mouth causing the resolve a small part of you is still hanging on to to wither away. Your beloved sweatshirt is quickly removed and discarded on the floor, Joe’s hands back on your waist and ass again soon after. He nudges you towards the plush looking king sized bed, your kiss never breaking until you feel a stronger push cause you to fall backwards onto the mattress. Joe hovers over you, confidence and pure dominance oozing out of him as he climbs over top of you and finds your jaw, continuing his pleasurable assault. He gets a firm grip on your T-shirt, pulling away panting a simple command, “Off.”

You don’t have to be told twice, throwing the oversized fabric over your head and tossing it to the hardwood floor. Joe’s eyes are immediately on your chest, eyebrows furrowing like he’s been wounded. “You’re fucking gorgeous,” He groans, tucking his fingers under his collar to lift up his own shirt and discard it, while you quickly remove your bra. 

The sight of Joe’s chiseled chest and abs is something out of a Michelangelo marble sculpture, all strength, beauty and valor, and your heart races as you watch the muscles contract with his every movement. You instinctively reach out to touch his warm, hard chest, his eyes meeting yours as your fingers trace patterns across the slopes and ridges. “Jesus,” Joe mutters, leaning down to capture your lips again. 

You can feel your body buzzing, anticipating every touch, nervous but excited to just take what he gives you. Joe’s large palm comes to knead the soft flesh of your breasts, causing you to moan under him. He pinches your nipple and rolls it around his fingers, keeping you gasping and heated, craving friction down below.

You reach for Joe’s jeans and unbutton them quickly, detaching your lips from his to undo the zipper and help him shove them off. Before you can find his boxers to get them off, his hands are on your jean shorts, masterfully maneuvering them off of your body. You reach for his boxers again, and this time your hands are swatted away.

“Nuh uh,” Joe scolds firmly, pushing your shoulder lightly so you fall back onto one of his soft pillows. His large silhouette towers over you and you’re pinned by his gaze, his stormy eyes telling you if you move a muscle, you’re in big trouble. 

Joe positions himself between your legs and leans back on his calves comfortably, with swollen red lips and tousled hair. His hands start on your knees and travel up your thighs to your hips, hooking his fingers under your panties. Pupils dilated, his blue eyes bore into yours as he drags the lacy fabric down your legs, the light sensation sending shivers up your spine. Joe grabs each of your knees, pushing them apart until you’re opened up completely and the cool air hits your soaking cunt. Your chest starts to heave as you realize how vulnerable you feel, how desperate you look, how much control he has when you’re in this position.

Joe looks down at your pussy, so ready and glistening. “So perfect,” He smirks, basking in the ego boost he gets from seeing you spread, wet and quivering for him.

“I’m so deprived,” You groan. “S’why I can’t focus.”

“No, sweetheart,” Joe laughs cockily. “This is all me.” He nods down to your slick heat, sliding his big hands from your hips, down your thighs, to your knees and back again, leaving tingles in their wake with each stroke. 

“Tell me, I want to know. Did Cam ever get you this wet?” Joe purrs teasingly, slowly gathering your juices with his thumb and rubbing small, frustrating circles on your clit.

Your voice trembles. “No, he didn’t.”

“Hm. Has anyone gotten you this wet before, princess?” He asks, easily slipping his long middle finger in your cunt achingly slow, continuing to pump in and out. You gasp and throw your head back at the sudden sensation, the pleasure coursing through you causing you to almost forget about the question entirely. “It's okay baby, you can be honest.” He coaxes you soothingly, teasingly, observing your every reaction to find the spots that are driving you crazy. 

“No,” You gasp out suddenly, your eyes fluttering closed as you lose yourself in his precise, calculated movements. “Just you, Joe.”

“Ah,” Joe lets out a fake disappointed sigh, and the hand that was so perfectly ruining you quickly pulls from your center. “Shame.”

Your eyes snap open and are immediately on Joe as his betrayal washes over you. You feel your pussy ache, and your hips naturally buck slightly to chase the friction. Joe’s other hand still caresses your thigh softly, and he closes his eyes while he pulls the finger that was just inside you to his mouth, tasting you. 

“Oh, fuck,” He groans, furrowing his brows and sending a pleading stare back at you. “I have to taste you. Please.”

A small pang of nerves hits you, having very little experience receiving head. The few times Cam tried you both gave up, because it seemed like your body just didn’t respond to that kind of sex. 

“Um, you can try if you want to,” You respond softly, suddenly feeling shy and exposed. “Honestly, it’s never worked for me.”

Joe’s demeanor softens at the nervous look on your face, and he leans over to give you a quick, reassuring peck. “I don’t want to do anything you don’t want me to. How about we try, and see how it goes?” He asks lightly, feathering kisses across your neck and collarbones before moving to your breasts. 

Joe looks up for your response, locking eyes with you as you respond breathily, “Yeah, let’s do it.” He smiles and continues tending to your chest, closing his mouth over one peak. Joe’s actions cause you to mentally float in the air, the nerves you just felt dissipating somewhat. He moves to your other breast, repeating his lovely assault and causing pleasure to jolt through you. 

Joe’s lips continue to fall lower and lower, leaving kisses and licks and nibbles in his wake as he eventually parts your legs again. You feel your expression contort back into nervous, and Joe notices, gathering your slick with his thumb and teasing your clit. The relief makes your head fall back, dizzying slightly under Joe’s intense gaze.

“Relax, baby. Let me make you feel good,” Joe mutters, rubbing you a few more times before removing his hand and lowering his face even further.

Joe slowly presses feather light kisses to the inside of one thigh, inching closer and closer until he reaches your bikini line, where he falls back to repeat the process on your other thigh. The second time, he finishes by hovering over your heat, locking eyes with you until you feel his lips press on your clit. The anticipation makes you sensitive, and even this small touch sends a jolt of desire through you. 

Okay, maybe I do like this…

Joe’s massive hands continue to rub your thighs, building on the heat you suddenly feel everywhere. He flattens his tongue and licks a long stripe up your slit, finishing by sucking gently on your clit. 

“Oh fuck,” You moan, instinctively pulling away until Joe grabs your hips and pins them in place, feeling his hot breath on your heat when he chuckles. You couldn’t move even if you wanted to.

Joe’s mouth on you is as merciless and precise as he is on the field. Not quite aggressive, but not at all willing to give you any time to breathe as he seamlessly rotates his attention from your entrance to your clit at exactly the right moments. He’s observant, finding what drives you crazy in every way, and making sure to push every single button that will send you spiraling. Every sharp breath and high pitched sigh is quickly calculated into a counter movement, leaving you the writhing mess he wants you to be. He’s taking care of you in every way–something Cam never did–and that thought alone pushes you further into oblivion. 

Each movement of Joe’s pulses through your body, making your heart pound and muscles tense. “Joe,” You whine in a haze, not particularly knowing what you’re asking for. You can barely even see straight right now.

“Hmm?” He hums, glancing up at you he continues his work. The eye contact and vibration on your clit shoots pulses of fire through you, sending your clouded brain into a frenzy. It’s so so much.

“I- I think…I…” You breathe out, grasping for words as his methodic patterns keep sending wave after wave of heat through you from head to toe.

“Are you going to cum for me baby?” He asks gently, dipping his tongue into your entrance. The juxtaposition between his nurturing words and demanding, intense actions spur you on.

“Oh my god,” You choke out. “Yes.”

“I know, it’s okay,” He responds soothingly with another quick thrust of his tongue into you. “Relax, you can let it go.” Your mind zeros in on Joe’s words through the fog, your muscles loosening and body relaxing automatically upon his request. 

Joe’s mouth feels even hotter on your pussy, your body feeling like it’s on overdrive with how so, so good every touch feels. He starts lapping at your clit, rubbing it over and over again with his icy eyes on you until you feel the searing band of fire in your lower belly snap. “Fuck,” You shout as your orgasm cuts through you, grabbing on to whatever you can. The only thing you know is your pleasure and Joe’s tongue, continuing his delicious rhythm on your heat as he coaxes you through your high, a string of your moans following suit. His hands don’t falter, keeping you exactly where you are, unable to escape. 

Eventually your vision comes back, and you feel Joe’s soft blonde locks in your left hand. He gives you a couple more loving strokes of his tongue as you come down, parting from your heat with a light kiss. Your breathing is still heavy as you admire his features in your post-orgasm daze. His back muscles are on full display from this angle, and his facial bone structure even more defined under the moonlight. He truly looks beautiful. Strong. Powerful. 

You continue to stare as he looks up at you while climbing forward, now noticing your glistening arousal decorating his mouth and chin. Oh God, you internally groan when the sight stirs more fire within you. 

“You want a taste?” He murmurs. You nod slowly, and he brings his hot, slick lips to your panting mouth, letting you suck lightly on his bottom lip. This earns a groan from him, and your eyes quickly dart to his black boxers, where a prominent bulge proves you're not the only one in shambles. 

Images mull through your mind of Joe pounding into you furiously, eyes shut and brow furrowed in concentration, his lips parting as pleasure takes over him. “I want these off,” You demand, the sudden urge to have Joe’s cock inside you driving you to take hold of his waistband, helping him tug his boxers down his thighs. 

When Joe’s dick springs free, your reaction is unstoppable. “Shit,” You whisper, causing Joe to chuckle softly, bringing a hand up to your face to tuck some stray hairs behind your ear. 

“You can handle it, sweetheart,” Joe asserts with a passionate kiss, rubbing his thumb on your flushed cheeks. “You’re my strong girl, I know you can do it for me, hm?” He asks softly, locking his baby blue eyes with yours. His praise makes your heart leap and your brain go fuzzy, a soft hum escaping you as you nod. 

A smirk falls across Joe’s face. “That’s right,” He nods with you before spitting into his hand and pumping himself a few times. You watch as his face falls in slight relief and his cock grows even slightly more, his tip becoming a darker shade of pink.

“There are condoms in that drawer,” Joe grunts, nodding towards his bedside table.

“I’m on the pill,” You respond, sliding your hands into his golden curls and pressing your lips to his neck. “I don’t care if you don’t.”

Joe groans, pulling your face to his for a kiss. “You’re fucking perfect,” He mutters against your lips, crashing his mouth back onto yours to guide your head back onto the pillow. After a few more intense kisses, Joe pulls away panting, and lines up his cock with your entrance.

He slowly runs the head from your opening, to your clit, and back down again a few times, your already sensitive center immediately reacting to him. You’re boiling with anticipation, so desperate and so ready for everything he has to give. On the next go ‘round, he pushes in ever so slightly and comes back up to your clit, and just the small taste causes an involuntary whine to bile up in your throat.

“Joe,” You whimper. “I can’t take it anymore. Please.”

“Fucking dripping,” Joe sighs, staring in awe at where you’re about to be connected. His eyes then dart back up to you when he stops right at your entrance, ready to burn the image of you taking him for the first time into his memory. 

He slowly starts to push in inch by inch, your face contorting further into pleasure with each passing moment. The friction rubs you just the right way, shooting tingles through you from head to toe. Your pussy practically sucks him further in, every part of you stretching in the most delicious way. Pulses of pleasure and heat crash down on you with each inch, and every time you think you can’t take any more, he pushes deeper, reaching spots you didn’t even know existed. 

When he finally bottoms out you’re lightheaded, dizzy and disoriented. It’s so overwhelming, it’s hard for you to speak. While Cam wasn’t the only guy you’d slept with, he was the only one of note, and the size difference was evident. You’re so achingly full you feel like you’re choking on air, your vision spotty until you feel Joe’s large hand softly grab yours and guide it to his warm shoulder, giving you some sort of grounding amidst the pure ecstasy. “I’m right here, baby,” He rasps out. “Are you okay? You feel so fucking good, it hurts.”

You grasp his shoulder tightly as his hand drops from yours, landing back on your hips. “I’m good. So good,” You moan in confirmation, grinding your hips upwards to encourage the sentiment, earning an Ah, from Joe.

“You are trouble,” He mumbles, tightening his grip on your sides as he slowly starts pushing himself in and out, snapping in hard. Every thrust is deliberate, the pleasure only snowballing in your center as his dick brushes against your walls just so. The friction is addicting, and you find yourself chasing it more, needing it harder, faster, rougher. 

“Harder,” You breathe out on a high pitch, using your grip on his shoulder to pull your lips up to his ear. “I need it rough. Prove it to me, Joe.” He snaps his head to face you, scrunching his eyebrows in stone cold determination. The look almost makes you cower, for the first time slightly fearful of what you started. He grabs your jaw firmly and plants his heated mouth on yours, pushing you back down onto the plush bed. He brings his hand back down and lets his fingers coil into your hips, taking a bruising hold before setting a relentless pace with his hips. You moan loudly in surprise.

Oh, yes. 

The fire in your belly is fueled by the feeling of Joe’s fingers digging into your flesh, the way he’s keeping you at his mercy, with no choice but to be thrown around and torn apart. It’s exactly what you’ve been craving, and as much as you want to hold back your reaction, the fight is futile. You feel your body succumb to it, legs shaking, moans spewing, eyes rolling to the back of your head. You’ve never felt this fucked out in your life. 

“Look at you baby, finally getting what you need,” Joe’s low voice rumbles, accenting his words with his hip movements. “Just a good- hard- fuck.” You can feel the truth of Joe’s words seep into you, and it pushes you further towards the edge. Just how incredible he’s making you feel, just how long you’ve been frustrated, waiting for months to be completely delirious, and now you’re so close to letting it all go. And you didn’t even have to tell him–he could read your thoughts like a book. 

“Don’t worry your pretty little head. Just lie back and take it,” He groans, sliding one of his hands down to your clit to give it a quick pinch. He then uses both hands to push your thighs against your chest, allowing him to drill his cock into a spot deep inside that sends you absolutely spiraling. You gasp, then uncontrollably moan and blubber as he grazes the spot over and over and over.

“Please, please, please,” You beg in a whisper, though you’re not sure what for. You can feel your body tensing as Joe continues to pound into you, every part of you screaming for release that doesn’t seem to arrive quite yet. 

“You can do it gorgeous, just hang on to me,” Joe whimpers, his eyebrows furrowing and bottom lip dropping as his own release approaches. You let out shaky breaths as you continue to hang on the edge, tears about to well up in your eyes from your dizzying agony. 

“I-” You gasp. Joe notices, his demeanor darkening as he drags a hand from your thigh up to your throat, easily wrapping around the entire front of your neck with a light grip. He leans down and pins you in place with his gaze, his striking blue eyes now hooded, dark, and blown out in desire.

“Poor thing. So deprived she doesn’t even know what to do next,” He rasps, feigning sympathy. His grip on your airway tightens slightly as you feel jolts of pleasure cut through you again, fire radiating from your throat all the way down to your core. The only thing you can think of is Joe, Joe, Joe. 

“You can’t fight me, baby. Now be a good girl and cum,” He commands, and just like that your body responds, giving in to Joe completely. You yell his name and your eyes roll to the back of your head as your second orgasm hits you twice as hard as the first, the fullness you feel skyrocketing you into a state of pure delirium. Wave after wave of heat hits you and your resolve comes crashing down each time, feeling like there’s no end in sight with the way Joe keeps ramming into you, continuing to hit that one spot just right until you can barely feel anything anymore. There’s a point where you’re not sure if you’re even breathing, so you focus on inhaling and exhaling until you feel the high fade. Eventually you find a bicep, latching onto it as if it’s some kind of lifeboat, regaining your senses one by one until you open your eyes. 

Joe’s slowed down, but you feel his movements get sloppy and uneven as he chokes on moans, his scrunched up face and closed eyes telling you he’s holding out. You reach out to cradle his jaw, pulling him towards your face for a sweet kiss. “Joe,” You breathe out soothingly. “I’m okay. Let it go.” You finish your sentiment with a particularly hard kegel and a trail of kisses from his flushed cheek, to his set jaw, down to his neck. Starting to buck up into his thrusts, you pick up the pace and push through the light twinge of pain in your thighs to push him closer to the edge. 

“Fuck,” Joe whimpers, his groans getting louder. “Just like that baby, please.” He buries his head into your neck and presses his chest to yours, digging his fingers into your hips one last time and finishing inside you. You pull your head back slightly, admiring Joe’s face as he orgasms; eyes closed, brows furrowed, lip pouty and sweat-wicked. 

As Joe comes down from his high, your fingers thread through his soft, wavy hair and scratch his broad back lightly, both of you basking in your post orgasm glow for a minute. After a couple long breaths, Joe presses his lips to your collarbone and slowly pushes himself off of your chest, his dick sliding out of you in the process. A sharp, involuntary gasp escapes you at the sudden lack of fullness, your heat tingling and your walls clenching around nothing.  

Joe gives you a soft look and brushes your hair out of your face for a moment, running his thumb over your bottom lip before fully rising and getting off the bed. He wordlessly turns to stalk towards the bathroom, and as you stare at his back muscles flexing expertly, you feel the weight of the world return. You’ve been in this situation enough times to understand what’s supposed to happen now, and you silently curse yourself for considering for even a second that this was meant to be different.

You quickly sit up, feeling slightly unsure as you start to scramble around the bed, looking for any of your clothes to cover up. Reality really sets in, and you’re quite aware of the fact that this most likely felt like a quick fuck to Joe. Operation Rebound was successful, but you can’t help but feel a twinge of disappointment that it’s nothing more. 

Hearing you rustling around, Joe suddenly turns with a confused face, his expression falling worrisome as he realizes what you’re doing. “Shh, no, no,” Joe exclaims with the wave of his hand. There’s a small pause as you freeze. “Stay. I’ll be right back.” He whispers, his eyes going soft at your baffled and disoriented look.

Your muscles slowly relax as you watch him turn back around to grab a clean pair of boxers and find the bathroom. Okay…You think to yourself, eyes darting around the room nervously. Luckily Joe is quick, emerging in his new undies with a damp washcloth and a cup of tap water. He heads straight for you, holding out the glass of water which you take gratefully with an unsure, “Thanks.”

“Lie down,” Joe instructs quietly and you comply, allowing him to gently push your knee to the side to open your legs. You jump slightly when he presses the warm cloth to your center, him reacting with a hand rubbing your thigh and a quiet, “Shh, I’m sorry.” He cleans you up diligently and carefully, discarding the cloth in his bathroom when he’s done. Your shoulders slowly release their tension as he continues to cater to you, helping you into a pair of boxers and an LSU football T-shirt that smells like him and feels too cozy. He finally grabs a glass of water for himself from the bathroom, joining you criss-cross applesauce back on the bed after he’s had a couple sips. 

You give Joe a soft smile as he keeps observing you, searching for any other signs that you may need his care. He lifts up your shirt slightly, softly caressing your hips and leaning down to observe them. “Hmm. Let me know if they start to bruise,” He says, frowning and furrowing his eyebrows. “I think I dug in a little too hard.” He then murmurs, pulling the shirt back down. One of Joe’s hands comes up to hold the side of your face as he brings your head to his mouth, pressing his lips softly to your hair. “You okay?” Joe asks, using his hold on your jaw to make sure you’re looking directly at him.

“Yeah,” You whisper, giving up and letting yourself fall into his ocean blue eyes. 

“You’re just awfully quiet,” Joe comments with a chuckle, dropping his hand from your face and letting it land on one of your thighs, his thumb rubbing softly back and forth. 

“Sorry,” You laugh lightly, letting your head hang as you start picking at your nails and looking  at your hands for a moment. Eventually you look back at him. “I’m not used to doing all this talking and stuff after. I don’t know. You tired me out.”

Joe throws his head back as he laughs full heartedly. “Aw, come on,” He teases. “And don’t tell me Deavers missed on this too.”

There’s a bitter silence as you shrug, and Joe’s smiling face slowly drops. “He did this sometimes. I just thought it was, like, a relationship kind of thing.”

“No,” Joe says quietly, but sternly. “This is an every time kind of thing.”

You feel a little pang of hurt. A twinge of embarrassment. Your eyes go back to your hands that are still preoccupying themselves in your lap. The more you reveal about your relationship with Cam, the more your friends help you realize that he wasn’t the guy you chalked him up to be. This is just another subtle reminder that even in the times you looked back on that you thought were good, and the things he did that seemed so grand, weren’t even the bare minimum. You’d think this would make you feel better, like you didn’t even lose something that amazing in the first place. But right now, you just feel like a fool. A child who was desperate for any sort of affection. Stupid. Lied to. Cheated. Which technically, is true. He cheated. 

Joe’s face is easier to read than Goodnight Moon. His eyes wander over every inch of your body and face, searching for any sort of signs that will indicate how you’re feeling. You can see it all over him–Poor her. I feel so bad. How tragic.

“Stop staring at me like that,” You snap at him. You’ve gotten to a good point with this whole breakup in the past week, and you need everyone to stop treating you like you’re broken so you can stop acting like it. Especially after a hookup. It makes you feel like an idiot.

Joe is taken aback by your sudden sharp tone. He furrows his brows and opens his mouth to counter you, but nothing comes out. Retreating, he slowly removes his hand from your thigh and turns towards his large window, leaning back on his palms. You sit for a minute, letting the twinge of tension you created simmer down, the bit of moonlight peeking in still doing wonders for Joe’s beauty. 

“It’s a waxing crescent,” He notes quietly.

You look out at the moon. “Yeah,” You reply, surprised. “You pay attention to the moon’s cycle?”

He nods. “I love space,” He explains. “The moon phases can tell us a lot about our lives.” Your heart squeezes at his statement. 

Maybe I was too mean.

Now you’re feeling regretful. There’s another less painful silence that floats through the room while you both swim in your thoughts, until Joe’s hard, flat tone cuts through it, “You’re sleeping here tonight. I don’t care if you had your drinks two hours ago, you’re not driving or walking home alone.”

You’re not sure how to respond. You’re not sure how he’s feeling. He’s still turned towards the window, but you can still tell his face means business, and there is no other option. “Okay,” You reply cautiously.

“Great,” He sighs as he stands, grabbing his water bottle and a few other things, “I think everyone wants to do brunch in the morning. You coming?” You nod in response, but he still isn’t looking at you. 

Come on, Joe. 

“Yeah, sure,” You say softly instead. “I can sleep on the couch, you know.”

“No,” He responds plainly.

You roll your eyes. “Joe,” You call sternly. He finally turns his head to lock eyes with you. Relief floods through you, knowing you didn’t completely fuck it up. You get under the sheets and pull one side of his heavy, navy blue duvet up. “Just sleep here. I don’t give a fuck.”

He sighs, moving his eyes back and forth between you and the bed. “I don’t want to-” You cut him off with a shush and look at him expectantly. Eventually his feet slowly carry him towards the bed, and you smile at him. 

“You were literally just nose deep in my pussy, so you’re fine,” You mumble once he starts pulling the covers over his long body. He lets out an abrupt laugh, one where his eyes shut and his nose crinkles. 

“That’s a good point,” He comments as he turns his body to the side and smiles at you. The silence afterwards is comfortable, and you find yourself leaning into it, already drifting off.

“I want to talk to you,” You mumble, knowing you’re fighting a losing battle with yourself. 

“Go to sleep, sweetheart,” Joe replies in a whisper. “Talk to me in the morning.”

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * 

The morning is slow but sweet, with soft smiles and gentle touches. You and Joe lazily gather your friends, floating through a hearty brunch at the local breakfast place “Sunny Side Up,” enjoying the delicious calories of coffee and syrup. Stories and jokes make their way around the table, looking forward to the new week ahead, when Joe gets a text of pictures from the weekend.

“Aye, look at this!” Justin exclaims, pointing to the picture displayed on Joe’s phone. You lean over and see the shot the cameraman took of you, Justin and Joe after the game winning touchdown. It looks straight out of a movie with the stadium in the back, all of your game faces on, and the energy oozing out of the screen. 

“Oh that’s Insta worthy,” Joe jokes, immediately swiping over to the app and creating a post. He puts the photo with you and Justin first, followed by a shot of him running to the sideline with his hands up, and the picture of all the Tiger Girls on the guys’ back last. 

He takes one last look at the pictures to make sure they’re all there, then clicks the caption box where he enters just two words:

Horns down 😈

--

oh the curls are curling😵‍💫

new jersey devils separate north and south new jersey via: nj devil

HOLY FUCK ME

The new Luke picture has me thinking a lot of thoughts. Mainly: I need to ride his thigh.

This guy🤤 (P.s. can we talk about how TIGHT his shorts are around the crotch? Luke baby that can't be comfy. Have some decorum!!)

Riding Luke's thighs would be crazy because he'd smirk up at you the whole time. Luke to me is pretty confident in bed, knowing what he likes and how to satisfy you, so I think that sometimes he might enjoy letting you explore his body for your own pleasure— which is where thigh riding comes in.

His thighs are just so appealing, with their bulging muscles and light dusting of hair. Luke loves the way you moan and throw your head back as you rock on his hips.

"That's it," Luke coos, encouraging you. He's got half a smile on his face and his eyes are warm and attentive. His hands are light as they dance across your waist, hips, and ass, occasionally clutching at your skin just because they can. "Take what you need, sweetheart."

oh yeah that’s

yeah

My dad said Luke’s his favourite Hughes bro cuz he has the best hair of the three, so here’s a Luke hair appreciation post ❤️🖤

One chance is allll I need please please please please please

Squirtfest at Little Caesar’s

so like. do you think macklin is trying to use luke as an in to get a lakehouse invite so he can meet his favourite canuck, quinn hughes? because that’s so valid of him

he’s actually so attractive i’m going to scream

Is he okay???

He’s such a yapper

I love ittttt 🫶🏼🫶🏼