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description -> a first look into a mess that's yet to start upon finding out the person you'll be glued to for the rest of the semester...
(tags and warnings; self talks, some insecurity, enemies to lovers, cocky!arrognat!arch, lmk if missed any!!)
manning's navigation | sweet poison index
angie's notes; as promised, a little late i apologize, but here's the prologue to new series ;)) words can't describe how excited i am to start this series!!!!!!!!! and i hope you guys are too ;)) okay i'll shut up now, enjoy reading!! <33
“is the list out yet?” your voice came out desperate, a hint of worry and impatience along with it. the summer sun wasn’t on your luck either, causing a bit of irritation along your veins. “mason said, professor smith would release it in five minutes,” your friend explained, reloading the web browser again.
despite it being summer vacation, it was coming to an end, which meant the stress of university starting soon. you’d been anticipating the decision letter the entire break. constantly checking your emails, messages, and even the mail. a sign for anything.
the acceptance letter came last week. this was your last year. which meant you reached out to any possible opportunities that helped you network. you wanted as many connections as possible, enough to have a full resume, after walking the stage next year in may.
today was a different release of information. the opportunity came with building your own portfolio, media, and photography, making a case to present at the end of the year, yet also actively presenting in real time. today, you’d find out who exactly you would be assigned to for the portion of the first semester.
you didn’t know which department it was, if it was sports-related, fashion, stem, business, or theatre. though you silently prayed it wasn’t finance, or you’d be utterly fucked.
your fingers scrolled to the top of the curved arrow, refreshing it once more, seeing nothing but the exact courses you were signed up for. “don’t stress, whatever it is, you got this,” your friend encouraged. she was also anticipating the list, but she wasn’t as nervous or jittery as you.
there was something about waiting for huge news that didn’t sit right. the pit sensation feeling like your insides were twisting. your palms are constantly sweating or shaking. trying to disseminate by distracting yourself with your surroundings, but falling back to the same recurring thought.
your laptop lit up with a new notification in your inbox. an email and class announcement were recently updated. you didn’t hesitate twice before opening it, scrolling to find your name, which department, and any specific names.
suddenly, your surroundings weren’t loud, just a faint ringing noise filling your ears. the cursor traced back and forth, just as your eyes gradually read over the text. the department. the athlete's name.
y/n y/l/n assigned to texas football, paired and assigned to arch manning.
“you’ve got to be kidding me.”
your friend’s eyes squinted, confused at your sudden body language and tone. she leans over, reading your screen befor eletting our a happy and congratulatory laugh. “holy shit! you got the arch manning? that’s like winning the lottery!”
except it didn’t feel like it. all you could feel was that bubble of annoyance seep through you. refusing to picture his stupid, dirty blonde locks. his ridiculous blue eyes. or the unnerving huge ego that he never left at home. you would’ve rather gotten stuck with someone in finance.
anyone but him.
“wait, why aren’t we happy? this is huge! he’s the most talked-about player. especially now, given the current role as the starting quarterback,” your friend tried to encourage, instead, all she saw was you burying your face into your hands, shoulders tensed, quieter than she’s ever experimented.
“this just turned into a living hell! i can’t be paired with him!” you complained, scoffing, still in utter awe at the sudden news. this was another con added to the list of why you hated unexpected news. it could lead to situations like this, which no one could prepare for.
“and why the hell not? i don't think you see what’s at stake here…”
“i do see it. and it's probably me failing at my first opportunity of being given a real-life shot. what the hell am i going to do?”
“okay, wait, i’m a little confused here… you’re upset? you’re upset that you got paired with the one and only arch manning, and will be stuck with him for the entire semester? that you’ve been given an opportunity of a lifetime?”
“i’m not upset about the opportunity. i know what i’ve signed up for, and how much anyone would do to be in my place. i’m just having trouble wrapping my head around the fact that for the next six months, i’m stuck with someone who's an obnoxious and overly rude person,” you sighed deeply, shutting your screen, calling it a day.
“you don’t like him?”
“nope. i despise him. with every cell in me. and he does too.”
“he hates you? why? what is going on?” she sounds more shocked, her face morphing into a mess of confusion and flabbergast. the last thing she’d expect is for her best friend to be tangled in a riverly mess with the starting quarterback.
“i don’t even know anymore,” you leaned back into the chair, eyes shutting, dreading what is to come. you didn’t want to talk about the exact reason for your situation with him. it was embarrassing and humiliating. still angry at yourself for believing, or having hope in a fantasy…
it hasn’t even started, and the sole truth was that you didn’t know what trouble was yet to come. it was scary, and felt very real…
it was the following night. you’d agreed to go out for drinks, needing to get out of your apartment before you drove yourself crazy. it was a bar in west sixth. college students shutting down the blocks. long lines at bars waiting to get in.
you tried to hide the mood you were in. after the news from yesterday, on top of your personal life, you felt unlucky and had no motivation. you had one drink in you, not needing to get drunk or completely wasted. you just needed a distraction from your life for one night.
your friends sat at a booth near the entrance, making it easy to find everyone as they walked in. your drink was watered down, listening quietly to your friends as they conversed about different topics relating to their lives.
“y/n? why are you so quiet tonight?” one of your friends asked, feeling their eyes burn holes through you.
“just thinking…”
“that’s never good… share with us. how can we make you feel better?” another friend quipped in, offering a side hug you accepted easily. “it’s not that big of a deal, i’m just self-sabotaging,” you chuckled tiredly.
“she found out, her assignment for the rest of the semester,” your friend from the same classes said, giggling loudly when you whined and hid your head once again. “that's right! for the student internship! who did you end up getting?” your friend asked excitedly, not knowing how messy the circumstances were.
“she got the arch manning,” your friend answered for you, eliciting surprised gasps and yelps from everyone. “no fucking way! bitch, you hit the jackpot!” your friend screamed, growing confused at your moody expression.
“oh wait.. you guys don’t know, but this one over here, allegedly, knows him personally. and she dislikes him badly. like he’s her biggest enemy,” your friend said, earning a glare from you.
“why do you hate him? everyone knows how sweet and gentlemanly he is?” your friend, besides you, tried to offer. “he has no problems with anyone. arch is super down-to-earth and funny. hot as fuck too. why don't you like him?” your friend says, but you were tired of the topic of that man.
“he’s a spoiled asshole,” you intervened, no longer being able to stand how highly they were speaking about a certain football player. “he’s arrogant, cocky, absurd, and thinks he’s the shit. so what if he’s the starting quarterback? he’s only getting that recognition because of his family legacy.”
“you seriously don’t like him, do you?” your friend snickered, a small smirk on her lips. “no, i don’t,” you answered quickly, taking a sip from your margarita. “i don’t know how you’re gonna do it then… given you’ve been assigned to his media team for the entire season,” she replied, brows raised.
you groaned, hands covering your face, thinking of how it would go. from your understanding, he had received the news as well. he would be over the moon, already plotting ideas to turn this wonderful opportunity into a walking nightmare for you,
“i’ll accept and prayers and wishes. here i was thinking, it's finally my chance to prove my work and spot on the team, just to be assigned to the devil himself,” your sigh was loud and full of disappointment.
of course, you wouldn’t waste the opportunity, especially because it was once in a lifetime. you had pictured something completely different than him or the situation. as unpleasant as it felt, you would be professional and mature, unlike him. you’ll ensure to overachieve and succeed, proving yourself to be the student and hard worker you were.
“which devil, angel? you couldn’t possibly be talking about me?” the world was exceptionally cruel and unfair, but right now it seemed like you were their worst enemy, at the top of their list of people who didn’t recycle and polluted the air.
you didn’t need to turn around and see for yourself to match the voice. you immediately felt their gazing blue eyes, tall and muscular structure, make their presence known. your eyes rolled, pretending to be distracted by the aquarium to your right, ignoring him entirely.
“you haven't answered my question… angel,” the arrogant voice spoke again, forcing you to look up and make eye contact with the man you’ve grown to despise so much. your friends chuckled, excusing themselves to grab and refill their drinks. “i didn’t know this was an interrogation,” you replied, looking away from the intense stare.
“and i didn’t know you were this obsessed with me. speaking highly of me, i assume? even when i’m not here,” arch said. you scoffed, feeling the irritation skim down your veins, itching to bite back, “you wish i were obsessed with you. i’m sure you dream of it. given you’re always following me around.”
“i do not follow you around,” he stated seriously, shifting in the chair uncomfortably. he hadn’t been here long, and arch already felt annoyed with your attitude and dismissiveness. you sat too still, a weird, sudden shift in the air when he approached. the same shift from last saturday night’s party.
“why are you here then? for someone who claims to dislike me, you’re everywhere i am.”
“austin is a small city. who’s to say maybe you’re the one who follows me around...” arch interjected.
you scoffed in disgust, turning away, feeling your chest fill with something heavy and abnormal. “funny thing you mention following around, because it looks like for the next six months, you’re stuck doing that with me,” arch smiled, his stupid cocky side grin causing more irritation.
“it’s not like that, and you know it. i’m doing this for bigger opportunities. you’re only doing it because it’s the only serious thing you can handle,” you fired back, not afraid of doing so. the grin wipes right off his face, and a small victory courses through you.
“you won’t be able to last a month. i can bet you right now, you’ve probably already emailed professor smith for a switch,” he said. you tried to ignore his words because he, in fact, wasn’t wrong. you typed up the email before entirely erasing the draft, knowing you sounded selfish and helpless.
“what i do is none of your concern.”
“starting to look like it. given you’re gonna be with me twenty-four-seven. i don’t want to be seen with a walking mess, angel,” he insulted, not knowing his words sat and seeped through you heavily. where had that nickname come from?
“i’m not a walking mess,” you defended, ignoring his curious eyes roam your figure. “why are you still here? don’t you think you’ve had enough of torturing me already?” you asked, standing up, no longer in a mood of wanting to share the same air as him.
“aren’t you tired of running away from the problems you always create?” he asked seriously. whatever feud he had, it seemed to be on the same page as yours. he leaned back, arms resting around the edges of the booth seating.
is that what he thought we were? a walking mess? a walking problem? a person who didn’t have their life together? an easy person who lets anyone walk over them.
background: colstons a most prized & hottest rookie alive according to social media, he rejects girls that throws themself at him, but when he tries to get his quarterback's younger sister, shes not easy for the heart.. or the body.
(all pics from pinterest, all rights reserved)
notes: so.. i went on the deep dive and fount this in the drafts from when i was sick.. also this starts when they're caught and then we go back in time. the series is here
word count: 2.3k
taglist: comment or quote repost to be added (asking me)
warning: this is a alternative universe, wishy washy relationship between y/n and colston, illusions to smut in one scene.
Y/N landed back in LA three hours after leaving Chicago, which obviously was from seeing Colston. No sleep at all as her hair was thrown in a messy bun and oversized USC sweats, hiding the fact that her body was sore from him.
And unfortunately, her teammates noticed immediately at practice.
The second she walked into the gym, one of them narrowed her eyes suspiciously.
“Why you walking like that?”
Y/N kept moving toward the lockers without missing a beat.
“Conditioning.”
“Liar.”
“OH MY GOD THE FOOTBALL PLAYER DID THAT.”
Y/N threw a towel at her while the entire locker room screamed.
“Y’all are actually annoying.”
Which only confirmed everything further because on the other side, in Chicago, Colston was going through the worst morning of his life.
Bears preseason practice had barely started when Caleb came jogging onto the field already talking loudly.
Too loud.
And unfortunately, Colston immediately recognized the tone..Which made Colston’s stomach tighten instantly.
Players stretched across the field while coaches set up drills nearby, music echoing through the practice facility speakers. Colston kept his expression neutral while adjusting his gloves, pretending not to pay attention.
Then Caleb said the sentence that nearly made his soul leave his body.
“Aye,” Caleb called casually to a group of receivers nearby. “My sister got a sneaky link here in Chicago and I wanna know who it is because I swearrrr…”
Colston’s stomach dropped directly into hell.
Actually dropped.
He kept his face perfectly still somehow, staring forward while his heartbeat started punching against his ribs.
Because there was absolutely no way.
No way Caleb already knew.
Cole immediately burst out laughing.
“Oh somebody's dead.”
“I’m serious,” Caleb continued. “She came back to the crib smelling like expensive cologne and acting weird.”
Colston nearly choked on air.
One of the receivers yelled, “Maybe she just outside!”
“Nah,” Caleb said immediately. “I know my sister.”
Which honestly, made things worse.
Colston kept stretching silently while trying not to look guilty enough to get tackled on sight.
Then Caleb started pacing dramatically.
“And whoever it is lucky I don’t know yet because-”
“You threatening imaginary people at 8 am bruhh.” Rome interrupted laughing.
“I’m dead serious.”
Everybody around them started throwing out random guesses immediately.
“Probably a basketball player.”
“Nah definitely somebody rich.”
“Could’ve been a rapper.”
Caleb shook his head immediately.
“No. Athlete.”
Colston’s jaw tightened.
Too close.
Way too close.
Then Caleb snapped his fingers suddenly.
“Actually…”
The entire offense looked over.
Colston felt physically ill.
“She usually likes wide receivers.”
The relief that hit Colston almost took him out right there on the field.
A receiver screamed laughing while another pointed dramatically.
“SEE? IT’S ONE OF Y’ALL.”
Caleb nodded confidently now, fully convinced.
“I’m telling you. Definitely a receiver.”
Rome held his chest theatrically. “Why are we catching strays?”
“Because y’all annoying and pretty.”
“Not pretty enough for your sister, apparently.”
The whole group burst out laughing while Caleb kept talking through theories completely unaware the actual culprit stood less than ten feet away trying not to combust.
And somehow the scariest part?
Caleb was too close to finding out, but the only reason he missed it was simple.
Nobody in their right mind would suspect the quiet tight end who rejected every woman in Chicago was secretly sneaking around with the quarterback’s little sister at one in the morning.
Which honestly, made the situation ten times worse.
Because every time Caleb clapped him on the shoulder laughing, every time he invited him over to the house, every time he said “that’s my brother right there” in interviews..
Colston had to sit there knowing he was secretly sneaking around with his little sister every chance she came to Chicago to strictly attend a Bears game.
And somehow, he lied terrifyingly well.
That was the scary part.
Nobody suspected him because he never acted nervous, If anything, he acted too normally.
Which only made Caleb trust him more.
Unfortunately, Caleb was also observant as hell.
And over the weeks, tiny things started standing out.
The way Y/N suddenly answered Colston’s jokes faster than everyone else’s. The way Colston’s eyes automatically found her whenever she walked into a room. The way both of them got suspiciously quiet whenever Caleb entered unexpectedly.
Nothing concrete.
Just enough to make Caleb suspicious.
So by the time the rookie dinner rolled around, he decided he was going fishing.
The restaurant was ridiculous.
Private rooftop in downtown Chicago. Black marble tables. City lights glowed against the windows while Bears veterans laughed loud enough to shake the room.
And unfortunately for Colston, rookie dinner meant one thing, the rookies paid for everything. Which explained why his eye twitched every time another veteran ordered expensive tequila.
“Aye rook,” one lineman yelled across the table, “add another seafood tower.”
Colston looked at the menu price briefly.
$600.
His soul almost left his body.
Rome was already dying laughing beside him.
“You gon be sick when that bill come.”
“It already hurts,” Colston muttered.
Meanwhile, Caleb sat at the center of the table looking entirely too entertained.
Which should’ve been the first warning sign.
Because halfway through dinner, Caleb leaned back in his chair slowly and announced, “I got a game.”
Immediate chaos erupted.
“No.”
“Hell nah.”
“Why you smiling like that?”
Caleb pointed around the table casually.
“One of y’all messing with my sister.”
Silence.
Actual silence.
Colston’s heart stopped so hard he physically felt it.
Not metaphorically.
Actually stopped.
For one terrifying second he thought Caleb somehow knew.
But then the table exploded into screaming.
“OH SHIT.”
“WHO IS IT?”
“Somebody dead tonight.”
Veterans instantly started accusing random people for entertainment while Caleb watched reactions carefully like a detective.
And unfortunately?
He was paying special attention to Colston.
“You quiet,” Caleb noted casually.
Colston leaned back unfazed, taking a sip of water like his life wasn’t actively flashing before his eyes.
“Because this got nothing to do with me.”
The lie came out smooth.
Way too smooth.
Caleb narrowed his eyes immediately.
“Hm.”
One of the receivers pointed dramatically. “Nah I think it’s him now.”
“Why?”
“He too calm.”
Colston shrugged effortlessly. “Your sister don’t even like me.”
Which honestly made Caleb hesitate for a second.
Because that part actually sounded believable, Y/N acted unimpressed by him publicly. Meanwhile under the table, Colston’s pulse was trying to kill him.
Caleb kept staring though.
Hard.
“You’d tell me if it was you, right?”
The entire table immediately screamed and started jumping up and down.
“OH THATS PRESSURE.”
“HE SETTING YOU UP.”
Rome almost fell out laughing while Colston just smirked lazily.
“Obviously.”
Lie.
Straight to Caleb’s face.
And somehow he sounded convincing enough that Caleb finally leaned back slightly unconvinced but without proof.
“You know what’s crazy?” Caleb muttered. “I feel like whoever it is been around me this whole time.”
Colston nearly lost consciousness.
One veteran noticed immediately.
“Aye rook you sweating?”
“Bill stressing him out,” another player joked.
Which thankfully shifted the attention instantly, because the waiter chose that exact moment to drop off the check.
And the entire table LOST IT.
“THIRTY THOUSAND?”
“OH HE SICK.”
“LOOK AT HIS FACE.”
Colston stared at the receipt in genuine disbelief while everyone recorded him laughing.
Meanwhile Caleb watched him carefully from across the table.
Still thinking.
Still suspicious.
Because something about Colston felt too innocent.
And unfortunately for him?
Caleb was starting to realize the quietest people usually had the most to hide and by midseason, Caleb and Colston had become inseparable.
At some point Caleb stopped calling him “rook” and started calling him bro. Which made the situation hella worse because the level of trust was insane. And unfortunately for everybody involved, Y/N happened to be back in Chicago the same weekend the Bears had an early morning film session.
Officially, she was staying at the regular hotel again, but actually, her suitcase hadn’t seen that hotel room once, a lie set up between the two.
And by 7:15 am, Caleb was already irritated.
The quarterbacks and receivers were inside the facility half awake, drinking coffee while coaches set up film. Everybody important was there except one person.
Colston.
Which immediately annoyed Caleb because Colston was never late.
He checked his phone again.
No answer.
Rome looked over laughing. “Rook not answering?”
Caleb rolled his eyes grabbing his keys. “He is probably asleep.”
“Or dead.”
“Shut up.”
The problem was Colston only lived fifteen minutes away.
And Caleb had a spare key.
Which meant by 7:30 am., Caleb was already walking into his teammate’s house letting himself inside.
“Colston!” he yelled immediately.
No answer.
The downstairs lights were still dim, shoes tossed near the doorway, TV running low in the living room.
Caleb frowned harder.
“Bro we got film.”
Still nothing.
Then faintly a noise upstairs.
He paused.
Another noise.
Then a muffled laugh.
Caleb blinked slowly.
“Ain’t no way.”
Because suddenly every suspicion he’d had over the last two months started reconnecting inside his brain at terrifying speed.
He took the stairs quickly, heart pounding harder the closer he got to the bedroom.
And because he thought something might actually be wrong?
He didn’t knock.
He shoved the door open immediately and froze.
Completely.
The entire room stopped moving.
Y/N was tangled in the sheets beneath Colston, her legs around his hips as her head was tossed back and too distracted to notice the door opening until it was way too late.
The room smelled like cologne and perfume. Clothes scattered everywhere. The headboard knocked softly against the wall while Y/N’s nails dragged across Colston’s back hard enough to leave red marks.
And Caleb’s brain genuinely short circuited hearing his little sister moan while Colston murmured against her neck “Shitt you can take it.. relax..”
Then Colston turned his head.
Saw Caleb, then the entire room went wild.
“WHAT THE F-”
Both of them yelled at the exact same time.
Y/N screamed instantly, yanking the blanket to her chest while Colston practically launched himself backward off the bed, grabbing for his boxers somewhere on the floor.
Caleb stood frozen in the doorway, looking super traumatized.
“What the FUCK?!” he yelled again.
Colston was pulling sweatpants on at record speed looking equally horrified.
“BRO I CAN EXPLAIN.”
“EXPLAIN WHAT?!” Caleb shouted. “WHY ARE YOU INSIDE MY SISTER?!”
“CALEB!” Y/N yelled from under the blankets horrified.
“I WALKED INTO HELL.”
Colston dragged both hands down his face aggressively while Caleb paced in circles near the doorway like he was about to pass out from rage.
“You?!” Caleb pointed violently. “YOU?!”
“I was gonna tell you.”
“When?! AFTER Y’ALL GOT MARRIED?”
Y/N buried her face in the blanket completely mortified while Caleb kept spiraling.
“All this detective work and it was the TIGHT END?”
Rome Odunze calling him “boyfriend” suddenly replayed in his head like a curse.
“Oh my GOD.”
Colston looked genuinely stressed now.
“Caleb listen-”
“NO.”
“That’s my sister!”
“I KNOW.”
“CLEARLY NOT ENOUGH.”
Y/N finally peeked over the blanket. “Can everybody stop screaming?”
Both men looked at her instantly.
Then Caleb pointed at Colston again in betrayal.
“Just.. get ready and get in the car since we’re already late... Jesus.”
Colston closed his eyes briefly, like death sounded peaceful compared to this conversation.
In the meantime, the ride from Colston’s house to the facility was one of the most uncomfortable experiences of his life.
Not because anybody was talking, nobody was.
Caleb sat in complete silence replaying what he'd walked in on that morning, for starters his sister was getting rawdogged by his teammate. By the time he stormed into the locker room, he looked like a man who had witnessed a crime.
Immediately, everybody noticed.
"Why do you look sick?"
Caleb dropped his duffel bag dramatically.
"I got something to tell y'all."
The entire locker room went quiet.
Because that tone never led anywhere good.
"Alright," Cole said slowly. "What happened?"
Caleb pointed toward the entrance.
"Colston."
The room immediately started laughing.
"What'd the rookie do now?"
"He forgot film?"
"He finally spent the rest of that rookie dinner money?"
Caleb looked genuinely offended.
"No."
Everybody waited.
Then Caleb said the sentence that instantly froze the room.
"I literally walked into Colston's bedroom this morning and found out he's been having sex with my sister."
Silence, the one that could make a pin drop audible, then every head slowly turned toward the doorway just as Colston walked in as the locker room exploded.
"NO WAY."
"OH, MY GOD."
"I KNEW IT."
"THE QUIET ONES ARE ALWAYS THE WORST."
Colston immediately stopped walking because he immediately knew.
"You told them?"
"I told EVERYBODY."
Rome nearly fell off his chair laughing.
"YOU AND HIS SISTER?!"
Colston rubbed both hands over his face.
"This is unbelievable."
Caleb pointed at him immediately.
"HE LIED TO ME FOR MONTHS."
"I didn't lie every time."
"THAT IS NOT THE DEFENSE YOU THINK IT IS."
The room completely lost control.
Somebody in the back shouted, "Atta boy, Colston!"
Caleb whipped around so fast it was impressive.
"What?!"
"Nah, rookie got game."
"Y'all are supposed to be on MY side!"
"Brother, your sister chose him."
The betrayal on Caleb's face was immediate as he looked around the room, expecting support. Instead he found players highfiving Colston.
"Atta boy."
"Respect."
"Kept it quiet too."
"Professional work."
Caleb stood there horrified.
"No."
"YES."
"NO."
Rome was crying, laughing now.
"You thought we were gonna be mad at HIM?"
"THAT'S MY SISTER."
"And?"
Caleb looked genuinely stunned.
"And? THAT'S ALL YOU GOT?"
A veteran shook his head.
"Man, if your sister is happy and he's treating her right, what do you want us to do?"
The locker room suddenly got quieter underneath all the jokes, that was the actual question. Everybody looked toward Colston, including Caleb and for the first time all morning, nobody was laughing and he leaned against his locker and shrugged.
"I care about her."
And somehow that made Caleb even more annoyed because he knew Colston wasn't the type to say something he didn't mean. The locker room collectively went "OHHHHHH." as Caleb threw both hands into the air.
"This is the worst day of my life."
Meanwhile, the entire locker room had officially chosen a side, and somehow it wasn't his.
yn.williams
❤️ 321,000 💬 8,745
Liked by: uscwbb calebwilliams _colstonloveland_ and 321,000 others
yn.williams: chi town 🪽
@/uscwbb: ❤️
@/jazzydavidson: okay miss mysterious 🌚🌚
@/kayleighheckel: flowers??
@/espnw: 📸
@/nikebasketball: 🏁
@/paigebueckers: im extremely confused
@/uscfansdaily: WAIT A MINUTE
@/trojansnation: WHOSE THE MAN
@/lakerswrld: somebody on the bears definitely
@/bearsnation: WE UP
@/calebwilliams: whoever sent those flowers count your days.
@/calebwilliams: actually im serious.
@/calebwilliams: reveal yourself.
@/maliknabers: respectfully hello
@/_colstonloveland_: i wonder who got you those flowers.... they look pretty like someone else too
@/yn.williams: that was genuinely the worst thing ive ever read
@/colstonloveland: still got your number though so who won
@/yn.williams: for now.
@/_colstonloveland_: thats all i need baby..
@/wbbculture: WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT
@/trojansnation: EXCUSE ME
@/ynw.edits: WHEN DID THIS HAPPEN
@/calebwilliams: im deleting instagram.. touch grass
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background: what you've all been waiting for....when y/n and colston find out that they're expecting during colston's last year of college, whats next?
(all pics from pinterest, all rights reserved)
word count: idk
notes: this is a blurb apart of this series :) theres lots of shits and giggles in this so i hope u enjoyed colston being a hornball exposed at the end??
description -> he shows you his deperation after being apart for three weeks...
(tags and warnings: slight minor content, not heavy for smut though, kiss between m and f, heavy makeout, slight jealpus!arch if your squint!)
manning's navigation
word count; 1,303 words
angie's notes; he looked tooo good in that video, so i had to jot down a quick blurb for my arch girlies!! <33😼😼
“you’re not listening to me,” you complain, pushing him inches away. arch stood between your parted legs, his overly large, freakishly large hands resting on your bare thighs. “what makes you say that?” he murmurs, feeling his warm lips against your pulse point.
“you’re just kissing me…”
“and you’re not kissing me back. it’s a problem.”
you had just returned from a girls' trip. the cities of barcelona, mallorca, and ibiza had been planned months ahead, promising to travel and spend three weeks there after graduation. it had been draining, the constant moving and traveling back and forth; nonetheless, it was a trip you’d be dreaming of doing again.
missing your 6’4 clingy boyfriend was harder to endure. the time zones. already being used to sleeping and waking up to him. his texts and calls are not as many as normal. being around him 24/7. which is why it was no surprise when he had been waiting an hour at the airport to pick you up.
“it’s a problem that you don't want to listen to how much fun i had with the girls, and the guys that tagged along,” the lie fell from your lips. it was so quick to make his actions stop, brows furrowed inward as he stared at you with blatant confusion.
“what guys?” arch’s voice is deep and low, demanding.
“that caught your attention, didn’t it? there were no guys,” you explained, your hand reaching up, grabbing his face softly, feeling his stubble tickle your palms. not much changed from him. his hair was a tad longer, wavier, and defined due to the humidity. eyes still blue.
he wore a casual outfit, a white tee with dark shorts, clear glasses that made his eyes appear bigger than normal, and his iconic redbull hat hiding the untamed hair.
“i don’t like it when you do that. it gives me a heart attack each time,” arch expresses, kissing the corner of your mouth, then a small beauty mark on your cheek. you were sitting on the marble counter, the cool tile beneath quick into rushing goosebumps along your skin.
“sorry, handsome,” you say while leaning in, before dodging the kiss he was about to place. arch huffed, annoyed, clearly not impressed by your antics, or wanting to waste any second longer. it was a hard three weeks, and all he wanted was to kiss you properly, not a quick one like you shared in the airport arrival lane.
his chest heaves in desperation, lips parted, letting out a patient breath, eyes focused on your shiny lips thanks to your lip gloss. “as i was saying, our airbnb was beautiful! it was hot due to not having any ac-... isn't that crazy? if that happened here, we’d die from the heat!” you blabbered, everything you said entered through one ear and escaped the other.
he was willing to wait, however much, but it was growing incredibly difficult. he wasn’t truly paying attention, and maybe that was his consequence for it. he hates thinking about it in this second; he wants you to remain quiet, just so he can properly kiss you.
his eyes shift up, so do his hands, which now rest on your waist, pulling you closer to his warm body. you notice it immediately, how rugged and intolerant he was at your moves. you grow quiet, fingers twisting a small curl that let out from his hat, twiting it with your finger.
he leans in, just for you to turn to the side and grab another drink of water. arch gulps, vexed, his dimple marking its place as his jaw clenches tightly. he grabs the worn-out waterbottle, his hand tilting your face to his, leaning and crashing his lips with yours.
his eyes shut immediately, heart beating fast, letting out a quiet groan, one you’re quick to swallow as you press harder against his. arch tilts his head, so the hat he wears doesn’t prohibit or cause issues as he finally tastes his favorite delicacy.
the kiss is messy, rough around the edges, desperate after 21 days, and arch doesn’t plan to stop anytime soon. you pull back for a quick breather until you feel his tongue press against your bottom lip, asking for permission to drag the kiss deeper.
you oblige, one of your hands going from his chest to wrapping his muscled back, your other hand tugging the roots on the nape of his neck. arch’s pants feel tighter when you left out a soft, quiet moan, feeling the anticipation in your touches and the way you flicked your tongue along with his.
the kiss was never-ending. you were quick to forget about the conversation, rather too focused on how he felt against you. was it possible he grew in size in just three weeks?
arch’s hand moved down, resting dangerously close to your ass. you pulled back, his eyes open wide, confused and still dazed. your bottom lip is between your teeth, looking up as your hand removes the hat and places it on backwards, “always wear it like this when you’re around me…”
“why’s that?” he knew why. he just wanted to hear you say it.
“because you look ten times hotter. and so i can kiss you better,” you mumbled between the popcorn kiss, giggling when he smirked deeper. “you like it when i tell you stuff like that, don’t you?”
“like? baby, i fucking love it,” he ushers, this time taking your top lip and giving it attention. he pressed his lips tighter against yours, blowing the air away completely. he’s not worried this time about his hat getting in the way as he relishes you.
your tasted sweeter than ever, never wanting to part from you. he feels your hands return to his face, setting them along his jaw; this time, you’re the one to guide the kiss. he lets you, because he’d be stupid enough not to. “i missed you so bad,” he says, eyes closed, a look of despair, hating to think of how alone he felt.
“i miss you too,” you replied, thumbs tracing along his skin before giving him a softer kiss this time. both of your chests move up and down, utterly breathless after the deep and tense kiss that was shared. his kiss was starved, to now soft paced, as if he were afraid to lose or you’d disappear again.
this was the aftermath of 21 days of pent-up yearning.
“i’m sorry for not listening to you… i just needed to kiss you before i passed out,” arch joked.
“you’re so dramatic!” you teased, feeling his kisses move over your jaw and cheek this time, as your hands play with his hat, now resting sideways, wonky.
“i am not dramatic?”
“are too… i’m gone for three weeks, and you act like it i left you for good.”
“because you did! all i had and carried around were your plushies because i missed you badly,” arch says, offended.
“plushies? they're my stuffed animals. our kids, by the way,” you scold, peppering a kiss along the bridge of his nose, unable to detach yourself from his magnetic force.
“shut up and kiss me again.”
“make me,” you dare, pulling back, lips pursed with a brow raised, awaiting his next move. arch doesn’t think twice before lifting you off the counter, wrapping your legs around his torso as he leads both of you to the overly large couch in the living room.
your back hits the soft pillows, arch coming back between your legs, grinding his lips against your already sensitive core. he kisses you once, then moves back, now ushering kisses along your collarbone.
“you’re gonna lie here and tell me about your trip while i listen and show you how much i missed you, got it?”
Synopsis: Joe gets excited when he sees his favorite flight attendant on his way to Greece and wastes no time in telling her exactly what he wants before the wheels touch the ground
Pairing: Joe Burrow x Flight Attendant!Reader
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Joe saw you as soon as he boarded the plane, immediately making his heart rate increase.
That didn't happen often.
But with you, it was always different.
Any time he had a flight that would take longer than a few hours, he booked this particular company knowing that nine times out of ten you were going to be there.
You were all smiles as you made eye contact with him before leading him to his private suite.
“Mr. Burrow, it's good to see you again.”
“You too.” Joe replied as he licked his lips before a small smirk appeared on his face.
He couldn't wait until he told the group chat.
“Follow me and I'll show you to your suite.” You told him as he nodded his head.
Walking a few steps in front of him, he took in the sight of you and once again, just like any other time, became mesmerized as he watched your hips move from side to side as you glided across the floor with elegance and grace.
You, on the other hand, felt as if he was burning a hole through the back of you with his gaze.
This wasn't anything new and happened each and every time you saw him, but of course nothing came out of it.
There was a time and place for everything and giving a NFL football player your undivided attention while on the clock wasn't your main priority.
As much as you wanted it to be.
Or was it?
“And here we are.” You announced as you pointed to the entrance where his room was.
“Thank you.” Joe replied as he followed you inside.
The suite included an entire bedroom, a living room area, as well as a private bathroom. Mini fridge stocked with his favorite snacks and drinks, which you had taken note of, and a white bath robe along with toiletries.
“Of course. I already stocked the room with your favorites, but please let me know if there's anything else I can do for you. We'll be taking dinner orders in about 45 minutes so you have some time to decide what you want.”
“Perfect. I'll let you know.” He quietly said while setting his suitcase down in the corner.
“If you do, press this button right over here. If you need me sooner, of course let me know but I'll be back to get that order so you can get settled.”
Giving you a small smile and nodding his head, you smiled in return before leaving his suite and closing the door behind you. As soon as Joe was in the clear, he whipped out his phone to text Tee and Ja'Marr.
Shiesty- My favorite flight attendant is here 😌
Uno- That pretty ass black girl!?
Shiesty- And I specifically asked just for her to be my stewardess for the entire flight
Tee- Ain't this like your seventh flight with her? Yall ain't fuck yet?
Uno- Because his ass cannot pull her! He needs to hand her over to me
Shiesty- You sure about that, Ja'Marr?
Uno- I'll believe it when I see it. Ain't no way your ass can handle all that
Shiesty- Okay, remember you said that
Uno- 🙄🙄
Tee- Let's make a bet. 500 dollars says you can't pull her
Shiesty- Then I'm about to become 1000 dollars richer
As you walked to the front of the plane, your team lead, Iyana, pulled you aside.
“So….”
“What's wrong?”
“Mr. Burrow asked for you to be his personal stewardess. All night.” She replied.
“Oh, um…” You started to say, but trailed off as you were taken aback.
“It makes sense seeing as it's usually always you when he flies with us. Oh, and he left a nice little tip for you too.”
“How nice?”
“Give or take a few thousand so you better be on your best game all night. Not that I have to worry about that, but I still need to tell you.”
“Will do.”
As soon as the other three passengers boarded and were settled in their suites, the plane had been cleared to take off as all of you sat down and placed your seat belts on.
When the plane was finally at cruising altitude, you got back up to check and see what Joe wanted to order for dinner.
You briefly knocked before hearing his voice telling you to come in and once you did, you saw him watching what looked to be a documentary on the television in front of him.
“Hey, did you decide what you wanted for dinner yet?” You politely asked and it looked like he was thinking hard about his answer.
You. You're what I want for dinner.
Was the only thought running through Joe's head, but he quickly composed himself before he answered you.
“Uh, yeah. Could I get the lamb chops with….”
“Mashed potatoes and asparagus and a glass of chardonnay. Of course you can.”
“Well damn, I knew I made the right decision when I requested to have you tonight.”
“Don't you think I know you by now?” You asked as you winked at him before beginning to walk away.
“Actually, Y/N, can you do me a favor?”
“If I can make it happen for you, of course.”
“Can you bring me the entire bottle?”
“Anything for my favorite guest.” You replied as you went to put in his order and grab the bottle that he had requested.
As soon as you left the room, Joe shorts instantly grew tighter and the only thing he could think of was wanting to rip your tights away from your body and have his way with you.
However, when he honestly thought about it, would that ever become a reality? Sure, he's a famous quarterback and could use it to his advantage when he wanted, but when it came to you, it was just different.
Yes, there was no secret that he was indeed attracted to you, but had no idea if those feelings were reciprocated since it wasn't like you gave him any type of sign.
Joe quickly decided, if an opportunity rose tonight for him to have his way with you, he was taking it. But for now, his lips slightly parted as his right hand made it into his shorts and slowly began to stroke himself.
Pre cum leaked from the tip as he used it as lube as he sped up his pace.
He needed to finish before you made another appearance.
His mind instantly went to the curve of your hips, your full breasts and the way ‘Mr. Burrow’ rolled off of your tongue every time you spoke to him.
He wanted you whimpering underneath him as you took him inch by inch.
He wanted for you to ride his face until you squirted your sweet juices into his mouth.
He wanted you in every position imaginable in every room of this suite as he made sure that you wouldn't be able to walk straight for an entire week.
Your name escaped his lips as it rolled off of his tongue as he was sure enough about to explode.
Fucking you until you begged for mercy was going to happen before this night was over.
He needed you and just hoped that you needed him just as much.
As soon as he felt that he was on the edge of exploding, he heard a knock and your soft voice. Not bothering to answer at first because he was so focused on his current task, ropes of cum shot out on the shorts that he was wearing and he grabbed the nearest blanket to cover himself up as he told you to come in.
Opening the door and walking in, you noticed that his cheeks were flushed and your mind instantly wondered what could possibly have him so flustered.
And only one conclusion came to mind.
Was he just jacking off?
If he was, you wish you could have watched
The wetness between your thighs grew every time you looked at him
“Got that chardonnay for you.” You told him as you placed the bottle that was in a bucket of ice to the side of him, while also handing him a glass.
“You only brought one glass?” He asked and you looked at him confused.
“Why would I have to bring two, Mr. Burrow when it's just you in here?”
“So you can have a drink with me later.”
“I….” You started to say as you shook your head.
“Come on just one glass when things slow down tonight. You said that you would do anything for your favorite guest right?” Joe asked, which led you to have a small smile on your face.
“Just one?”
“Just one.”
“I think I can make an exception. Do you need me to do anything else? And I mean anything?” You asked as you placed your hand on his thigh, dangerously close to his dick.
Joe felt himself twitch from the sound of your voice and wouldn't be surprised if he just came from hearing it.
“I'm.. I'm good for now.” He answered you as he tried to compose himself.
“Perfect, but if that changes, you'll let me know right?”
“You'll be the first person I tell.”
“Hmm, your dinner should be ready in thirty if you… wanted to take a shower. Everything is in the bathroom waiting for you.”
“I might take you up on that.”
–
It was nearing one in the morning and the flight had been in the air for a little over four hours. As promised, you made your way back over to Joe's suite hoping that he was still awake.
When the door opened, you were met with him being in the robe that you had laid out for him and he stood to the side to let you move past him.
“Didn't figure that you would still be awake, so I had to come and see for myself.”
“You weren't getting out of the promise you made me earlier that easy.” He told you as he gestured for you to sit down and poured you a glass before handing it to you and pouring himself another one.
“I'm not supposed to be drinking while I'm on the clock though, obviously.”
“Look at this as being your break. Anything for your favorite guest right?”
You slowly started sipping from your glass as Joe came and sat down next to you. You couldn't help but to notice him staring at you from the corner of your eye.
“Thank you for the nice little tip you left me. Very generous of you to do that.”
“Figured you deserved it for all you do. I always have a pleasant experience every time. Small gestures go a long way.”
“Hmm, they do. But I have a question.”
You couldn't wait to see how he was going to get out of this one.
“Ask away.”
“Does that pleasant experience include you jacking off to the thought of me because I know for a fact that was what you were doing earlier so there's no reason to lie.” You asked while taking a sip of your wine and Joe did nothing but smirk.
At this point he wasn’t denying shit.
“I wasn't going to lie to begin with and it does since I obviously can't have you coming completely undone underneath me moaning my name and riding my face until that creamy pussy squirts in my mouth.” He explained and you were at a loss for words.
You had immediately stopped drinking and placed the glass down on the table next to you to compose yourself.
“So this facade of you being shy was a cover up of some sort? Are you always this bold?” You curiously asked as you turned to look at him.
“You thought that I was actually a shy person? And I'm this bold when I see something or in this case someone that I want. I thought you did too unless I'm not reading you right.” He answered as you gave him a small smirk.
“You stutter when you talk to me! So, that's why I thought you were shy.”
“That's because you're gorgeous as hell and I have to catch myself to not say some freaky ass shit.”
“And you're reading me just fine, Burrow. I mean if you want to prove me wrong, you are more than welcome to do it because I still think you are. I think that it's long overdue anyway, but we have to make this quick. Can't have anyone coming to look for me.” You replied as you stood up and immediately got on your knees in front of him.
“And besides, I figured that my mouth will probably feel better than your hand, anyway.”
You didn't give him a chance to respond as you promptly moved the robe from his body in order for you to have full access and immediately took him in your mouth making a moan slip out.
“Your mouth feels good just like I knew it would.” He told you as he gently pushed your head forward.
Joe maintained eye contact with you as you released him from your mouth and your newly manicured nails moved up and down his shaft.
A little bit more precum had leaked out and you wasted no time swirling your tongue along the tip in order to not waste a single drop before you once again placed him fully in your mouth and felt him hit the back of your throat.
“Fuck, just like that. Shiit.”
Even though it was your time to relax and take a break on the plane, you still had to be mindful of how much time you spent here with him.
As much as you wanted to stay in here with him the rest of the night, you knew that it wouldn't be possible.
Luck was on your side when you began to use your mouth along with your hand and could feel Joe tensing up indicating that he was close.
Another telltale sign was him gently pushing the back of your head down in order to take more of him in your mouth.
Not even fifteen seconds later, he erupted in your mouth and you swallowed every last drop as Joe had his eyes closed and his head was resting on the back of the couch.
Knowing that he had to remain somewhat quiet, his low moans were enough for the wetness between your legs to increase and knew that your tights along with your thong were soaked in your juices which you knew Joe couldn't wait to have in his mouth.
You gave him a minute to recover and was slowly stroking him in your right hand as your left leaned behind you in order to take off your shoes and throw them away from you.
“You wouldn't even believe how wet I am for you. Surprised it isn't running down my thighs and it's been that way since I first saw you step on the plane. Do you want to see?” You asked as Joe slowly opened his eyes and nodded his head.
You stood up and attempted to begin to take off your tights when his hands suddenly went around your waist to stop you and hold you steady.
“What's wrong?”
“Nothing, just wanted to do this.” He told you as he lifted up your dress and placed kisses all along your stomach before his hands ventured down further to cup your perfectly shaped ass in his hands.
When you thought he was going to take off the tights for you, as he played with the waistband of them, you instead heard one loud rip as your eyes went wide.
“Hope you have another pair wherever those came from.” He quietly said as he ran his fingers along your folds from the outside of your thong before moving it to the side and diving in, tasting you.
“Didn't want to wait any longer. Feels like I waited long enough. Hmm, you taste so sweet but I need the rest of these clothes off.” He told you as he stood up and finished undressing you completely.
Your favorite part had to be when he removed your thong with his teeth.
As you stood bare in front of him, he was admiring you as he cupped your face and reached down to place several kisses on your lips.
His kisses then trailed down your neck and chest before you pushed him away to finally undo his robe completely since he had still been wearing it.
As soon as it hit the floor, your lips were back on each other as he placed his hands on your waist. He only broke the kiss in order to say one thing.
“Jump.”
Listening to directions, his hands went underneath your thighs as he walked the two of you over to the bed. You felt it hit the back of your legs before Joe gently laid you down on it.
As soon as your head hit the pillow, he made himself at home back between your thighs as you felt him take one long lick, making you buck your hips and he let out a small laugh in response.
“You weren't lying about how wet you were for me. Does this happen every time you see me?” He curiously asked before inserting two of his fingers, wasting no time.
“Every time.”
“And what do you do about it? Do you touch yourself to the thought of me, pretty girl?”
“Use my vibrator as soon as we hit solid ground.”
“You think about me touching you? Tasting you? Filing you up and you feeling every inch of me?” Joe whispered and immediately reached up to kiss you before taking one of your nipples in his mouth.
“Mmm, yes.”
“Yes to what?” He asked as he switched sides.
“Yes to all of it.”
“Good girl.”
No reason to lie anymore since you had literally caught him jacking off just a few hours before.
To the very thought of him having you underneath of him.
“Just as I suspected you would.”
As his fingers were still moving in and out of you, his mouth quickly joined in and you knew for a fact that wanting to last long probably wouldn't be an option.
“Oooh fuck, right there. Keep going.” You breathed out as Joe continued to lap at your folds like you were his last meal.
It was taking everything in you to hold back your moans because of how good he was making you feel and obviously needing to remain quiet.
Not that it was needed, but Joe spit at the top of your clit and watched as it ran down your folds to lick it back up making you gasp.
“Quiet up there, baby. Can't have them coming to look for you.”
Joe was taking his slow sweet time in making you feel good and when you least expected it, felt him begin to suck on your clit.
Knowing that a loud moan was more than likely going to erupt, Joe grabbed a pillow to shove in your face as you screamed into it.
You could feel the vibration from his laugh as he continued and then without warning he suddenly pulled away making you pout from the loss of sensation.
“Sit on my face and ride it.” Was all he said as he laid down and you swung your legs on top of him.
When you were in the perfect position, you wasted no time.
You slowly began to ride it as Joe had stuck his tongue all the way out and wrapped his arms around your thighs making you not be able to move a centimeter.
“Fuckkk, your tongue feels so good.”
Now that you didn't have a pillow to cover your face made it ten times harder to remain quiet, which you were already failing.
There wasn't a headboard so the next best thing was to place your hands flat against the wall as you sped up your pace.
You knew you were close and it seemed that Joe knew it too because his hold on you somehow became even tighter, making sure you didn't move.
“Shit, oh my…. Fuck. I'm about to cum all over your face.”
“Then do it.”
That was all you needed to hear before squirting all over Joe's face as he continued to suck and play with your clit.
He barely let you recover before he flipped the two of you over and slowly slid into you while kissing you at the same time, quieting the moan that you would have surely let out.
Joe wasted no time placing one of your legs on his shoulder so he could hit even deeper.
Just as you wanted, you could feel every single inch as he bottomed out.
As the two of you got into a comfortable rhythm, Joe placed kisses all over your face and chest before coming back to your lips.
Your arms tightly wrapped around him and no words could be said out of your mouth because you knew for a fact that the high pitched screams you would let out on the plane would be frowned upon.
“Tell me how good I'm making you feel, baby.” Joe whispered against your lips before kissing them once more.
“So fucking good.”
“Keep those legs spread for me.”
That was the last thing you heard before Joe started pounding into you.
“Open your mouth.”
Once you did, he wasted no time spitting multiple times in your mouth and making you swallow it.
Knowing that time was probably winding down, seeing as it felt like a good amount of time had passed, Joe flipped you over and brought your hips up so that your head was resting in your arms and slid back inside you before you felt a hard slap on your ass.
This was only a little preview and he couldn't wait until he could spend all the time he wanted with you without a time constraint hanging over his head.
“Fuckkkk, fuck baby, keep going. You feel so good.” You managed to say and knew it was only a matter of time.
“I want you to cum all over this dick. Can you do that for me?”
“Yes!”
“Then be my good girl and do it. Cum with me.” He told you as he reached underneath you in order to play with your clit as he continued to pound into you.
It wasn't long until the two of you came undone with Joe sliding out of you and was caught off guard as you turned around, sat up and opened your mouth as he released into it.
When he was finally finished, he leaned down to kiss you and you quickly pulled his body back on top of yours.
After a heated make out session, you broke the kiss as you looked to see what time it was.
“How much longer can I have you for?” Joe curiously asked.
“Well, you did ask for me to be your personal stewardess all night…I'm sure I can give you at least another thirty minutes.”
Just as Joe wanted, the two of you christened every possible room in the suite as you were begging him to fuck you harder.
You probably weren't going to be able to walk properly for a week.
As the last round ended in the king sized bed, just how the first one started. You took a deep breath before you said anything.
“Wake me up in forty-five minutes.” You told him as you glanced at the clock that was on the nightstand.
That would be just enough time for you to get dressed and head back out without anyone suspecting a thing.
Thank goodness you had an extra pair of tights in your bag.
“Forty-five minutes it is.” Joe replied as he kissed you.
It took no time for you to be knocked out on Joe's chest and he was grinning like he had just won the lottery.
Reaching for his phone, he wanted to send a picture of the two of you to the group chat with Ja'Marr and Tee. He made sure your face wasn't shown and snapped it as his chin rested on the top of your head while one of his arms was wrapped around you.
Shiesty- Now, Ja'Marr what did you say earlier? Run me my money
Tee- OH SHIT
Uno- HOW THE FUCK
Shiesty- and put her ass to sleep
Uno- I repeat, HOW!?!
Shiesty- She told me how wet she was for me and it went from there. Might also have to do with the fact she caught me jacking off to her 🤷
Tee- Oh so yall both nasty as fuck?
Uno- Aye ask Y/N if she down for a threesome
Shiesty- Nah, she good
Uno- Don't be stingy, shiesty and share with your best friend
Shiesty- No, because if your dick touches mine during it somebody gotta die and it won’t be me or her
Tee- 😭😭😭
Uno- 🙄🙄🙄
Shiesty- See yall back in Cincy 😜
Uno: She staying with you while you outta town?
Shiesty- idk I’ll ask when she wakes up
Tee- tf you do to put her to sleep like that?
Shiesty- Wore her ass out obviously
It was now around five in the morning as the plane finally landed and the only thing you could think of was being under or on top of Joe again.
Crossing your legs for the remainder of the flight hadn't done you any good as you sat up front with the rest of the crew.
Damn you, Burrow.
There was no surprise as he was the last guest left and as he walked up to you, he leaned down to whisper in your ear.
“Meet me at the hotel as soon as you're finished here so we can finish what we started. I already put it in your phone while you were sleeping. I'll leave a room key for you at the desk. Your thong is in my bag by the way if you were looking for it.” He told you and placed a small kiss on the shell of your ear, making sure no one saw.
“Of course, Mr. Burrow.” You replied as you winked at him, which in turn resulted in a small smirk on his face.
As Joe descended from the plane the only thought going through his mind was, mile high club for the win.
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michigan!colston x fwb!reader ─── late night drives with colston (fluff).
lia interrupting finally finished one of my million drafts, everybody clap! #idkwtfthisis #justsomethingsweetforthefuckingkids
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Several half-assed case briefings stare at you from your laptop screen, begging for attention you refuse to give. Somewhere between Craig v. Boren and U.S. v. Virginia, you accepted that you don’t actually care to get any work done — simply not built to focus on Friday nights. And it doesn’t help that Colston’s taking full advantage of you finally texting back after a near week of radio silence.
11:47 p.m. Can I see you right now?
Your jaw goes slack as you scoff, rereading his text like the words will suddenly morph into something else.
11:49 p.m. Why the hell are you talking like that
Typing bubbles appear immediately.
11:49 p.m. Damn My bad for asking Strong ass attitude
The mock offense he loves to abuse around you rings loud in your ears. Enough to quell the mild disturbance he’s caused with amusement.
11:50 p.m. Don’t ask me stupid shit then
Instead of responding through text, his contact takes over your entire screen. Faint vibrations echo around the room as you glance at your laptop, pretending to care for all of two seconds before ultimately answering. You squish the phone between your cheek and shoulder as you shut the lid and place it onto your nightstand. The loss of light forces you to blink to adjust.
“Are you busy?” he rasps out, either genuinely tired or purposely trying to fuck your night up.
Regardless of his intentions, it is fucking your night up.
The sheets whistle as you roll onto your stomach and put him on speaker. “That’s more like it.”
Static stretches thin over the line. With each second that passes, you imagine his mouth pressing down as he fights to stay silent. He sighs, and you can vaguely make out his fingers drumming along a solid object.
“Okay, you’re dragging it,” you groan.
“Just letting you know what it feels like to deal with you," he grumbles. Before you can argue back, he tells you, “I’m, like, five minutes away.”
Every muscle in your face fights the urge to smile.
“Why are you five minutes away?”
“‘Cause I’m five minutes away.”
“What if I’m busy?”
“Well, are you?” Your silence is all the answer he needs. “Always tryna make life difficult,” he mutters, the engine humming low in the background.
“Talking like that to the one who has to let you in, by the way,” you remind him, already moving to turn your lamp on.
Soft light fills the room, and slowly — almost begrudgingly — you make your way out of bed. It’s strangely sticky for May in Ann Arbor tonight. The night air wafting into your room replaces the warmth of your comforter.
He lets out a short huff. “Nah, we gotta pick something up from someone.”
Your brows draw together. “Who the hell is ‘we?’”
“You and me.”
It’s the casualness in his tone, like it takes nothing out of him to say these things, that drops your stomach. Whatever the implications of that may be, however — you don’t want to consider them in the slightest.
You roll your eyes, biting out, “You’re annoying.” Then you hang up before he’s able to say anything else and start walking down the hall to Lina’s room.
Hushed conversations spill out the cracks of her door. Softly, you knock twice before poking your head in. She sits under her comforter with her hair still wrapped up in a towel, watching an episode of Breaking Bad. Her head snaps toward you, raising one brow like she already knows what you’re about to say.
“I’ma head out real quick,” you inform her, slightly guilty for leaving her alone. But she doesn’t seem to mind.
A faint smirk pulls at her face as she takes your appearance in, and she bluntly says, “That’s code for ‘I’m getting dicked tonight.’”
Your lips curl in to hold back your smile. “Mind you, that’s my good friend you’re talking about.”
The sentence barely finishes before you cave into laughter. Lina shakes her head, shoulders vibrating as she pauses the show. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a good friend like that before.”
You flip her off — to which she shouts back, “Be safe” — and shut the door, heading toward the living room. Only seconds pass between you sitting down and headlights flooding through the front window. The outline of Colston’s truck sits in the driveway, muffled whirring passing through the walls.
He texts you one word: Outside.
Nerves flare up throughout your body like this is the first time you’ve ever been alone with him. In need of a shot of courage, you take a shaky breath in and tell yourself that this reaction is nothing short of embarrassing as you slip on your Uggs. And when you finally step outside, the sudden rush of heat is enough to vaporize your distress.
Gravel crunches underneath your feet on your way to the passenger side of his truck. He drops his phone into his lap as you climb in, meeting his stare with one of your own. The seat has certainly spent the last hour being occupied by someone else, slightly sunken and warm under the exposed skin of your thighs. You break away from his gaze to readjust the seat’s position, pulling the metal bar to drag it closer to the dashboard.
With no regard for space, he leans over — forearm brushing your legs — and opens the glovebox. Rummaging and rummaging for something he can’t seem to find.
“What are—”
“You left this.”
A short brown lip liner falls into your lap alongside a squeeze tube — undoubtedly the combo you’d accepted was gone forever nearly two weeks ago. His hand lingers on your knee for a second longer than needed after, and your gaze flits between him and the makeup products.
Carefully taking the lip liner between your fingertips and lifting it into the light, you blankly tell him, “These aren’t mine.”
He looks back at you unimpressed. “Just put the seatbelt on.”
You make a dramatic display of clicking the buckle in before tossing the lip liner and gloss into the front cup holder. “Your car is ran through.”
His arm extends to hold onto your seat as he backs out of the driveway. Forces you to stare out the front windshield instead of directly at him — but your eyes wander on their own, watching the smooth movements of his one hand on the steering wheel. How it wraps around the entire gear stick, moving the car into drive, and you can’t tell if it’s the late hour or if you’re just always this easy.
Some country song you’ve never heard plays low from his speakers. And you’re taking full advantage of the presented distraction, drumming your fingers along your thigh to the rhythm. Absent-mindedly listening to the lyrics, quickly accepting that the song is grating to your ears.
“This song is ass,” you mumble, slumping further into the seat.
He glances at you, evidently amused. “What’s wrong with it?”
“It sounds terrible.”
“I like it.”
You stay silent, angling your body away from him like it’s some form of punishment. The car rolls to a stop at a red light, and he looks over again. For a moment, all he does is silently watch as you deliberately avoid him. Then the light turns green, and you can feel his eyes peeling away from you to return to the road. It’s like you’re caught in some childish game, sneaking a glance back at him now that he’s no longer looking at you.
Colston sighs, fishing for his phone out of the pocket of his shorts before tossing it into your lap. The screen is scratched up in the corner and dangerously foreign under your grasp. You handle it like hot coals, quickly flashing it at him as if to ask what the hell he wants you to do with it.
“Quit actin’ grumpy and change the song,” he mutters, that soft Idaho accent peeking through the way it always does when he tries to tell you to do something.
“How do you expect me to do that?” you argue, tapping the screen again to show the locked screen with his password.
“It’s oh-four-oh-nine.”
All your movements pause, lips parting as your brows furrow together like you’ve been witness to something you surely weren’t supposed to see.
“Why is your password your birthday?” You fight the instinct to laugh, but you’re only so strong until the giggles start to spill out.
He stares at you while also failing at keeping his face straight. “Trippin’ on my music, then my password.” The amusement on his face spreads as you roll your eyes, pooling at the dimples in his cheeks. “It’s real strict out here.”
“I just don’t like when you do stupid shit.”
You type his password in, coming across his home screen you’ve seen over his shoulder several times before. It’s oddly sacred, and you’re half-tempted to go through every app on his phone instead of just changing the music. One-hundred-and-twelve unread messages that practically call out your name. Or his six missed calls. Or maybe the ninety-nine plus Instagram notifications.
But you stop yourself before your hovering thumb can make any irreversible decisions on its own and open Apple Music. An emoji serves as the name for his playlists, and while you don’t quite understand the thought process behind each one, you’re strangely endeared by it. As you scroll through them, you settle on the random pineapple that has the most recognizable songs and press play.
The heavy bass starts to vibrate throughout the truck, traveling up the back of your seat before bounding around inside of your skull. Already making you less sour in a span of thirty seconds. You look out the window to see unfamiliar streets, like you’re in an entirely different city and not less than ten minutes away from your apartment.
“Where the hell are you going?” you ask, evidently suspicious as he turns into a neighborhood lined with old one-story houses.
“A couple of the older guys live here.” He straightens up, squinting as he starts to slow down near a cul-de-sac. “I left my jacket two weeks ago.”
“And you’re deciding to get it now because?”
He shrugs one shoulder. “‘Cause why not.”
A gray house comes into view, yellow light slipping through the front curtains. Colston parks alongside the curb, leaving the engine running as he unbuckles.
“Are you coming down?” he asks.
You shuffle in your seat to look him sternly in the eye. “No, but don’t take long,” you say seriously. He raises his brow, and you point at your surroundings like he’s missing a clear sign. “I don’t wanna get kidnapped.”
He huffs, shaking his head like you’re overreacting. “Nothing’s gonna happen to you.”
“You don’t know that.”
For your comfort, he leaves his keys with you. His walk up the concrete pathway is accompanied with endless beeping as you repeatedly press the lock button. Exhausting your thumb until you're half-sure the car won’t spontaneously unlock itself at an intruder. When you check the time on your phone, hardly a minute has passed after you’ve certainly lived through at least fifteen of them.
A groan rumbles through your chest, and you rest your temple against the cool glass while you stare at the rubber floor mats. Spring training’s end has left him with too little to do. Every inch of his truck is spotless, cleared of any junk you used to have to compete for the floor with. Not that it’s of any use to you when you’re sitting stranded in the middle of the night, instructions to not be slow lost on him.
By the time his outline appears in the driver’s side window, a total of four minutes have passed from him going inside to making his way back out. He tosses a black hoodie into the backseat and looks at you expectantly.
“Was that fast enough for you?” he asks, already lying his phone in your lap again.
Blinking slowly, you stare at the clear casing before telling him, “No.”
“That wasn’t even five minutes.”
“Fooled me.”
You open his phone, still somewhat thrown by the unlimited access he’s granted, and aimlessly swipe between screens as he turns up the air conditioning. Cold air harshly blows out of the vent directly onto your legs, raising small goosebumps along your thigh. Like some external entity keeps trying to warn you against snooping.
“It’s not even that hot,” you complain, angling the vents to point off to the side.
“I’m sweating from hurrying up.” He rests his arm on the center console, leaning back to let the air cool him down.
Your fingers pinch the fabric around his forearm, feeling how thick the material is. “Take this thick ass hoodie off then.”
The corner of his mouth lifts as he turns to the side to face you. “Freaky lil’ girl,” he says, a smile loud in his voice. “Tryna make me take my clothes off.”
His hands move to the hem, but you yank on his right ear before quickly bracing yourself for some form of retaliation. Heartbeat pounding inside of your chest like there’s an actual threat as he tries to poke at your side. You manage to grab his forearm, holding it up and away from you.
“Keep your hands to yourself,” you laugh out, dropping your hand to let him take his sweater off.
It joins his newly retrieved jacket in the backseat, and he shifts the gear into drive as he asks, “Where do you wanna go?”
You shrug in response. “You’re asking me when this was your idea.”
He does a three-point turn, heading out the same way you came in. “I’m getting a lot of attitude right now.”
“I’m not even—”
“I think Alex is talking to one of your friends,” he randomly cuts in.
Every nerve in your body seems to freeze.
“Which one?”
“Marina, I think.” He turns to you, checking to see if he’s gotten the name right. Only to be met with your jaw entirely slack as you try to piece the information together.
Nearly three weeks have passed since you’ve last seen her, and she made no mention of it. And you know her — she’s not the type to keep something like this a secret.
“How long has this been going on?”
He turns the volume down by two. “Like… a week, maybe?”
“A week,” you echo, tapping your index against your lip as you think. “How’d this even start?”
“I don’t know.”
Your face drops. “What?”
“I didn’t ask,” he says offhandedly, like he hasn’t just delivered the worst news possible to you. “I was cookin’ him on Madden, then he just said he was talking to your friend.”
“How do you know which friend then?”
“‘Cause I asked him which one and he said Marina.”
“What’d you say after that?”
The freeway is still littered with cars at this hour, and he distractedly hums as he tries to move down the lanes.
“I was like, ‘That’s crazy.’” An irritated silence ensues, causing Colston to smile at the small scowl on your face. “I’ll ask him the next time he brings it up,” he negotiates.
You slump into your seat, defeated. “I won’t care by the time you find out.”
“He probably DMed her or something,” he suggests, relaxing his shoulders once he’s situated in the third lane. “That’s what I assumed.”
Bitterly, you tell him, “I guess we’ll never know.”
Soft instrumentals spill out from the speakers, rhythmic strumming of a guitar playing throughout the introduction. In the night, it sounds near confessional if you choose to add meaning to it. But you know it’s pure coincidence, and you let the familiar tune play out as you look at the trees blurring by.
“Did you put this?” he asks, raising the volume by one again.
You shake your head, showing the album cover spread across his lock screen. “No, I just played the pineapple one.”
“I was about to say,” he starts, briefly flitting his eyes toward you before returning to the road. “What do you know about this song?”
“Don’t act like that over a song everyone knows,” you argue, lazily turning your head to look at him. “You’re not niche.”
His laugh carries throughout the entire truck, draping all over the music until it’s all you can hear. “You can admit I put you on.”
“No one puts me on to anything.” You open his phone, queueing several songs you’re certain he’s never heard of, deciding he’s earned the privilege of knowing your favorite ones. “I’ll put you on, though.”
“Play ‘Massaging Me’ after,” he tells you, drawing a short laugh from you. “It’s a good song.”
“It’s just random.” You add it into the queue, moving it to play after your first song.
As the conversation dies out, you comfortably sit in each other’s presence. He brings his right arm back to the center console, and with the minimal street lights, your eyes glide up and down the ink of his forearm. Letting the minute details filter in and out of your brain with each pass until you’re not even quite sure what you’re looking at anymore.
Then, hesitantly, you glance up at his face. Looking directly ahead of him, either unaware you’re staring or pretending to not notice. You take advantage of it anyway and trace the sharp line of his nose, dipping into the small space above his lip before lingering on the soft outline of his mouth. A dull pulse starts to scamper across your own mouth. Have to promptly shut it down by ripping your eyes away and staring out the window.
It’s the darkness messing with your head, you decide.
“Are you staying here for the summer?” His voice slices through your thoughts, and you have to turn the question over to actually process his words.
“I’ll be back home until the end of June, basically,” you say, keeping your eyes from wandering back to him.
If it wasn’t for his head lightly nodding, you’d assume he didn’t hear you. He’s silent for another moment, moving into the farthest left lane after a car passes.
“That’s lowkey a month,” he eventually lets out, like he’s just said something emotionally moving.
You huff in laughter, rolling your eyes. “It is a month, stupid.”
“I meant, like—” He catches sight of you biting your cheek, trying to hide your amusement, and sighs, disregarding his failed explanation. “What are you gonna do the whole month?”
“Hmm.” Quite frankly, you actually don’t have a plan. All you know is it’s summer, and you definitely aren't going to get any younger. “Probably watch Love Island. Maybe go outside.”
He raises his brows in amusement, and your eyes narrow in confusion.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“What are you gonna do?”
The accusation in your tone makes him laugh. “I’ma be everywhere. Idaho, Michigan…” he drones off at the end, abruptly cutting his list short.
Your shoulders shake in stifled laughter. “That was a terrible list.”
“Never let ‘em know your next move,” he corrects. “If I tell you, it kills the mystery.”
“You’re the lamest person I know,” you say, smiling in spite of your flat voice. “No one’s tracking your movements.”
“You sound jealous.”
“I promise I’m not jealous you’re going to Idaho.”
He vaguely gestures with his hand on the steering wheel. “A lot of people would be.” Then he turns to you, eyes flickering between your face and your legs pressing together. “I’ll bring you back a spud.”
“You’re so white,” you say through fragmented laughter. “Keep that negative energy away from me.” You lightly whack at his forearm right next to you, but it hardly makes any impact at nudging it away.
Blindly, he tries to pinch at your side again, forcing a small squeal out of you. All sharp and fast movements you can’t seem to escape, essentially tickling you as you’re held down by the seatbelt in the passenger seat.
“Colston, you’re gonna—” You let out a small giggle as he pokes you right below the rib, and you take partial hold of his wrist to slow his movement. “If I die, it’s on you.”
He stops trying to bother you, resting his hand right below the hem of your shorts you didn’t bother changing out of — a deliberate choice you refuse to acknowledge. His hand squeezes once out of habit before going slack. And something nags at your brain, reasoning that it’s best if you move it. But instead, you relax under his touch, slumping back into your seat.
It’s the darkness. Surely.
“Doing too much,” he murmurs, tightening his grip on the steering wheel with his left hand. “You’re not gonna get hurt.”
“I don’t know,” you sigh skeptically. “All men do is lie.”
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