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dilatorywriting · 8 months ago

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Monster Mayhem: Siren's Song [Part 4]

Gender Neutral Reader x Vil Schoenheit Word Count: 7.2k

Summary: It is very, incredibly important not to get attached to someone who will no doubt be leaving you high and dry to die stranded on an island any day now—be they man or fish. And you are definitely, definitely following that rule. For sure.

🌶️ Obligatory Warning for Mild Spice

[PART 1] [PART 1.5] [PART 2] [PART 3] [PART 4] [PART 5]

The next morning, there was a conch shell set beside the familiar offering of half-mauled fish.

The insides were a shining, pearlescent pink—smooth and sleek. You picked it up curiously and turned it over in your palms. You’d never seen such a complete one before. Normally they were at least a bit dinged, cracked here or there along the thin edges. But this one was practically perfect. It sat heavy and warm in your palm, and you brushed a finger along the rough ridges.

You looked up and the Siren was lounging at the shoreline, waiting expectantly.

“Thank you,” you said. “It’s really pretty.”

He preened, the fins along the side of his head fluttering wide and colorful. You huffed, amused, and set the shell neatly at the forefront of your slowly accumulating corner of Things. You’d rebuilt the little shanty shelter that he’d had his seagull minions pick apart into useless nonsense that first day together, and it wasn’t much, but it was enough to keep some of the sun off your shoulders at the height of the afternoon and would probably (maybe) hold up under a bit of rain. And that pleasantly cozy hovel of yours was where you’d been keeping your Stuff. The best sticks for poking at the fire, a rock that you’d found with a dip in the middle that made it sort of, almost a bowl if you squinted hard enough, bunches of drying beach grasses that you’d been tediously twining together into bits of rope and other nonsense. That sort of thing.

You placed the conch shell on the roof of it, prodding at it with the tips of your fingers until it sat just so. Like a figurehead on a ship. The crown jewel on your little mess of ferns and driftwood.

“What do you think?” you asked, turning back to the Siren. “Really brings the room together, huh?”

He puffed something under his breath and rolled those amethyst eyes of his, but there was a curl to his lips that looked far more amused than irritated.

You trudged back over and plopped beside him in the sand, the soft, low roll of the waves playing against your toes.

“Today feels like it’s going to be gross again,” you sighed, squinting up at the sun overhead in distaste. The big ball of glowing fire had barely crawled its way over the horizon and already it felt like the world was beginning to steam.

The Siren curled his claws around your ankle and tugged.

You arched a brow at him and he pushed his stupidly, perfectly shaped ones up right back. Like he was positive that he could out stink-face you with ease.

“It’s too early to swim,” you complained.

He tugged again.

“I can’t be in the water that long. You’re going to turn me into a prune.”

He said something back, mouth quirking in irritation, and you focused hard on the shape of it. His expression smoothed with that familiar, near-eerie perception of his and he was reaching forward to dig his free fingers into the sand at your hip.

‘Don’t know what that is.’

“It’s like a—” you frowned, waving your hand around your head. “Y’know. A fruit, that’s gone pruney. A prune.”

He looked at you like you were the dumbest human he’d ever met, and to be fair you very well could have been. You doubted it was an extensive list. And even if it was, you tended to have a proclivity for landing near the top of those illustrious sorts of rankings either way. At least that’s what your Captain saw fit to remind you ad nauseum.

So, like the very mature and intellectually competent person that you were, you kicked a mess of seawater right into his face. And then the Siren was screaming something silent and mad that had all the goosebumps on your arms popping up to say hello, and he was dragging you into the shallows ass first. You skidded along the wet sand and landed in the white surf with a laugh that you had to swallow real fast. Because if you drowned in three inches of water just because you couldn’t manage to not choke to death on a giggle fit, you’d never forgive yourself.

That night, you were lounging by the fire with a belly full of seared snapper and the Siren curled just as contentedly only a few feet away. His fins were splayed out across the damp sands, and you couldn’t help but compare them yet again to some of the finest, spun silks you’d ever seen. Even when they’d been pinched and shredded beneath the prickly teeth of your ropes, they’d still been lovely. But now that they were near-fully-healed, the spread of them was truly impressive.

And they were. Almost healed, that is. You could barely make out the trailing, scar-puckered lines of even the biggest tears anymore. Which was good! Great, even. Because that meant he’d be able to begin his journey home soon, didn’t it? And then at least one of you would manage to get away from this barren mess of rocks and sand.

There was a thump against your thighs that had you jolting back into focus, and you looked down to see a pair of familiar, gem-cut irises staring back in the dark.

The Siren was glaring up at you like there was a Purpose to his sudden loss of personal boundaries, and you blinked down at him in confusion. After a long moment of nothing but your silent gawking, his brow started to pinch and the skin around his eyes went tight with irritation. The fins along his ears rippled like a pissy cat raising its hackles in preparation to lunge, and you cautiously placed a hand against the edge of one. The grumpy fluttering stopped all at once, and if you were a touch more sun-poisoned you would say that those delicate, purple pins relaxed against your palm. Either way, you were clearly on the right track. So you let your fingers trail down towards his temples, and then to the salt-curled waves of his hair. His eyes slipped closed with a pleasant rumble that you could feel all along your skin, and you puffed in half-hearted irritation. Prickly, fussy, bastard man.

You weren’t really sure what he wanted, but for now the gentle scratch of your nails against his scalp seemed to do the trick. After a few cycles of lazy petting, you let your fingers catch in some of the softer, pale hair beneath his fins. It was a bit tangled—possibly from all that frilly posturing of his—and you carefully began picking apart the small knots there one by one. Once those were cleared away, you found yourself with little else to do but sit and play with the newly freed waves of lavender-tipped gold. You tucked one strand over the next, twisting the familiar pattern of a simple braid beneath your palms.

“Deuce grew his hair out at one point,” you chattered idly as you wove those silky locks together beneath your fingers. “That’s someone from my ship, by the way. Deuce. Anyways. He thought it’d make him look more rugged, or whatever. But he just ended up looking like some rogue, sea elf, and everyone was teasing him about how he’d gone for ‘windswept sailor’ and ended up with ‘foppish, little lordling.’ So he chopped it all off again.”

The Siren hummed, and you could feel it against the pads of your fingers.

“Which was a real shame,” you continued. “Because obviously I spent all that time learning to braid it, but also because it actually looked pretty nice—OUCH! What is your problem—"

You yanked your hand away from his sharp teeth and cradled your smarting fingers to your chest. Because the stupid fish had bitten you! Not hard, or anything. Just a little nip. But it’d still hurt. If less as a genuine injury and more as a sting to your pride.

The Siren spat something quick and harsh under his breath, turning up his nose like you’d been the one to err here, and not his wandering fangs.

“What?” you huffed, reaching out to flick at those purple fins in irritation. They twitched against the side of his head to smack at your fingers. “Oh, I’m sorry, am I not allowed to call anyone else pretty, your highness?”

The Siren rolled his eyes with a look that screamed ‘well, duh,’ and you forced your irritation to override the little, bursting bubble of fondness in your chest. So silly, so silly. This ridiculously primped fish of yours.

“Well, too bad,” you grouched, tugging at the end of that half-bound braid. “Just because you win ‘most attractive specimen on the island’ doesn’t mean you get to tell me to pretend I’m blind on top of being deaf. Let me have something, you prick.” And it wasn’t like it was much of a competition—seeing as the entrants were you, him, and the octopus (if you were being generous). Less of a contest and more of a merciful slaughter, perhaps. A kindness that you were even allowed to share the same stage at all.

The Siren muttered something low and amused under his breath, the amethyst in his irises twinkling with the crackling, orange light of the embers beside you. He reached up to twist his claws along your palm and snatch the hand he’d so viciously nipped—bringing it down to eyelevel to observe it more closely in the dim glow of the fire. There was a steady trickle of blood bubbling up along your thumb. Honestly, not much worse than a papercut. Nevertheless, his brow quirked at the soft trail of red and his gaze jumped up to yours with a pointed sort of curiosity.

“What were you expecting to happen? Humans are fragile,” you huffed. “At least more than you are. It’s not like I have scales or things to keep me safe.”

His mouth tucked down on a frown, and his tail swept irritably back and forth through the sand.

“What? It’s not like you didn’t know that,” you tried, awkward. Because he ate stupid, little flesh bags like you for breakfast. Surely he ought to be well aware that there wasn’t much there. Just skin, and muscle, and all the gory, gooey bits beneath. Just like how you knew what it felt like to bite into a piece of bread, or the crunch of an apple. Solid enough to survive in its own right, but something that would give beneath your teeth easily enough that calling it anything other than ‘delicate’ would have been a gross exaggeration.

He turned your palm this way and that, brow pinching down more and more with each fresh prick of crimson. His tail beat against the sand and his talons curled up and away from your skin—like he was worried just touching your fragile, little, egg-shell of an exterior would burst it.

“It’s fine,” you blurted out, still far too confuddled over his progressive panic. You pulled your hand away from his claws and popped your finger in your mouth. “See?” you garbled around the faint taste of copper. And then pulled it out with a pop to show him the slowing trickle. “Totally fine. Just a scratch.”

The Siren watched that little bubble of red with all the vigilance of a hawk eyeing its super, and then he was snatching your wrist back between his talons and dragging your hand down towards his own mouth. And oh my God, this was it. He’d finally decided to eat you after all. What was it? Had your oh-so-breakable human foibles finally pushed him over the edge? Or was it the blood? Were Sirens like sharks? Driven to hungry frenzy by the very scent of your—

There was a gentle, wet warmth along your skin and you blinked through your hysteric descent into adrenaline-manic-mania to see the Siren carefully cleaning the blood along your cut, just as you had only moments before—his tongue running smooth lines along the teeny wound until the sore skin was tingling and spotless. Granted, his endeavors were carried out with a great deal more delicacy than your earlier example of just shoving your whole finger into your mouth like a gremlin, but…

“Uhm—” you spluttered, too gobsmacked to come up with much else. “You—ah—you don’t have to—uh—"

The Siren grumped something at you that you could feel the shape of against your palm, and then returned to diligently wiping away each new drop as it appeared. It was a strange sort of sensation. Not bristly like a cat’s tongue, but certainly not all human. There was a sting to it—something hot and prickly. Poison, maybe? Or… something. Whatever it was, it had the hair on the back of your neck rising to attention and a shiver working along your shoulders. He kept at, silent and meticulous, until finally—finally—the bleeding slowed to a stop. He hummed and turned your palm this way and that, looking over the drying nick in your skin like an artist admiring their work.

Once he was content with whatever it was he’d been searching for, he tucked your hand back along the fins at the side of his head and butted up against your palm in as blatant of a ‘get back to work’ as you’d ever seen.

You swallowed the weird mess of something that had clawed its way up to tangle your tongue and dug your nails back against his scalp just to give yourself something to do other than—than—

“I hope you don’t expect me to do that for you,” you babbled, still far too out of your head with What In The Fuck Was That to do much but gawk like an absolute imbecile at the fact that he’d actually, factually, just—

The Siren rolled his eyes and reached over to drag the point of his talon along the sand at your hip.

‘No need. Already healed.’

You barked out a startled laugh and tugged at the ends of his hair. Your fingers caught at the edge of the braid you’d been weaving, loosening one of the twining sections, and he was hissing and swatting your hands back into place—poking around with his dark claws at the little end you’d fussed with until it was exactly how it had been. And then was dragging your hands back to the half-woven bulk of it with a pointed snarl that was clearly an order to finish what you started, human. Or else.

“Okay, okay, jeesh. I’m on it.”

The Siren trilled low and rumbling under his breath, and beneath the weight of your palm it almost felt like the steady drone of a cat’s purr. Warm, and pleasant, and comfortable in a way you couldn’t quite place. The thin strands of chain-twined-rope you’d woven to make his necklace pressed into your thighs with a scratchy tickle, and the pretty piece of sea glass at its end reflected the low light of the fire in a kaleidoscope of purples. His fins flicked against your fingers in a steady tempo, and when you gave in and pinched one he was rolling onto his side to shove the full weight of himself into your lap. You whined, and bitched, and complained about suffocation, and the stupid bastard of a fish just smacked his tail indignantly against the wet sand and draped over you even more.

Seven, he was such a nightmare. And you were going to miss him so, so much.

The next day passed in much the same way as the one before, and the day after that, and the day after that. And as pleasant as it was, you couldn’t help but feel like the headsman's axe was hanging over your neck. Always there—just a breadth away from falling.

You were fixing your Siren’s hair—redoing that braid of his that he insisted you tuck into his golden locks each and every morning—and normally he was quite responsive to your prattling. Flicking you with his fins and curling his tail along your ankles as you rambled. A silent, steady way of expressing his interest when you couldn’t hear his own responses in return. But today he was… distant. Amethyst eyes locked on the grand expanse of the ocean before you with a forlorn sort of expression on his face. The water was still and quiet today, with sunlight bouncing off the low, rolling waves in a pretty glimmer like the glow off his own, shining scales.

You trailed off, fingers falling from his finished braid to twist in your lap. And he just kept staring. Fins half-pricked along the side of his head and gaze heavy with focus.

You swallowed around the tightness in your chest and forced a smile. You hopped to your feet with a merry, little bounce and reached down to pat him on the shoulder.

“It seems like a nice day for a swim,” you said, and ignored how you could feel your nerves eating through the words. The wobble of them in your throat.

The Siren startled, as much as someone as grandly majestic as he could really do such a thing, and turned your way with a fondly exacerbated huff. He held up a hand, like he was expecting to drag you along with him into the lulling tide, and you shooed away his fingers. His brow pinched and his mouth turned down at the corners.

“For you, I mean,” you clarified. Like your blatant stepping away from the water’s edge wasn’t an obvious rejection in its own right. You turned back out towards the ocean beyond your little cove. “Your fins are doing a lot better, aren’t they? You could probably stretch them a bit, right? With how smooth the waters are today.”

He hummed, considerate, gaze skirting out to track your own. You swallowed around another ball of prickling ice in your throat and kept your grin buoyant and encouraging.

And then he turned back and offered you his hand again.

You frowned, confused. “I can’t follow you out there.”

He rolled his eyes and leaned forward to dig his talons into the damp sand.

‘I will swim with you.’

A pause, where he reached out to poke at your ankle with a pointed jab, jab, jab before finishing off with a—

‘Like always. Stupid.’

“Oh, yeah? Well, I won’t be so stupid when you ditch me halfway out and I drown in the riptide,” you harrumphed and his eyes narrowed grumpily.

He dragged his claws through the sand in short, angry jerks.

‘Won’t leave.’

“Uh-huh,” you drawled, swallowing stiffly again when that curl of awful something tightened behind your ribs. Hoping you could manage to choke it down. It sat heavy and unpleasant on the back of your tongue, like food gone off.

He underlined the ‘won’t’ with hard, pissy strokes.

“How about this,” you tried, because man oh man, you couldn’t do this. It was going to turn you into a ridiculously weepy, clingy mess if he kept talking (writing?) like this. “Prove that your fins work well enough to keep you up and alive before I risk it. And then we can go from there.”

The Siren huffed, sending the longer ends of his hair flipping out to the sides. But those gem-cut eyes of his kept flicking out to sea, and you could see the tip of his tail twitching back and forth—like he was itching to just leap forward and swim. The fins along his ears pricked up again, and then he was turning his nose up at you with some petulant comment under his breath and diving forward into the surf. He smacked his tail down with a splash!, drenching you in a mess of salt and seafoam. You spat, and hacked, and scrubbed the water from your eyes.

“Great way to prove you won’t try and drown me!” you called, hands cupped over your mouth and still spluttering around lingering saltwater. He reared up quick enough to swipe another wave your way before slipping back under, and you laughed through the spray of mist.

You settled yourself back in the sand, ankles crossed and chin pillowed in your knees, and watched the shadow of him dance just beneath the surface—starting in his familiar, looping circles before slowly venturing towards the mouth of the cove. He paced along the breakwater, pectoral fins cresting above the waves to glint bright and sleek in the light of the morning. And then he was darting forward with a great beat of his tail, spraying salt behind him as he dove towards the depths. You waited, anxious, as one moment faded to the next, and then—finally—there was a burst of frothing bubbles as he broke the surface with a great, curling leap—fins flared wide like the wings of a great bird and scales shining like jewels. It was nearly effortless, how he crested over the water. Diving back down in a mess of spitting mists with a flick of those long, trailing fins. He leapt up again, twisting in the air to crash down on his back and it almost looked like he was dancing. You could see the white flash of his grin even from all the way where you were sat. You didn’t think you’d ever seen him so happy. Truly, a sight worthy of every grand tale you’d heard of the Sirens of the Sea.

He circled the mouth of the bay at least a dozen times more—fast, and wild, and breaching the waves in a burst of seafoam like he was trying to give every pod of dolphins out there a run for their money. Gradually, he began to lose steam, and those grand leaps melted into soft curls of his tail in the tide. And honestly, this was the part where you expected him to sink beneath the surface and glide off into the sunset. You braced yourself for it—for the moment that golden head of his would vanish beneath the water and never pop back up again—but instead he bobbed closer.

The Siren rolled in with the waves, panting, and flushed, and looking like someone coming off of a marathon. The muscles all along his torso were jittery with the strain of it, and he looked positively exhausted. Ecstatic beyond compare, but exhausted. He slipped up the damp shore with wobbly arms and came to a stop at your side before very gracelessly and rudely flopping the entirety of his sopping wet bulk onto your person and squashing you into the muck.

You squawked, rightfully indignant, and he just puffed against your neck and let his tail smack harder against your flailing legs.

“You’re going to crush me!” you wailed, shoving at his shoulder.

He rolled his eyes and curled his fins along your hips—spreading himself out in the sands like your complaints held no merit whatsoever. You could feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest against yours, and the rabbit-fast thump-thump-thump of his heart. His skin was so warm. You could even feel the heat of it off his scales, which you hadn’t even thought was possible. Weren’t all fishy, scaly things supposed to be cold? Slimy, and gross, and like poking a wet blob of some unmentionable gunk scraped off the hull of a ship? Instead it was just… smooth. Glass-polish sleek and all warm muscle twined along your much, much smaller self.

You cleared your throat and turned to blow a frustrated raspberry against the sand.

“You do realize if you break all my bones that there isn’t going to be anyone to cook your stupid fish for you anymore.”

The Siren grumbled something against your shoulder that almost felt like the breathy puff of a laugh, and then he was collapsing all over again with a sigh that ruffled all the soft, short hairs at the nape of your neck. He scrubbed his cheek against the curve of your throat and you froze. Because it almost felt like—was he purring?

A deep, low, tremulous thing that you could feel rumbling against your skin. Like laying a hand against a mast strung too tight in a storm. Or maybe more like that one time you’d found a stray cat lounging in the sun by the docks—the sweet, old thing chirping softly beneath your palm in a lulling drone that tickled all the way up your arm.

The Siren’s purr wasn’t quite like either of those things, but perhaps a mix of the two. Dangerous but warm, powerful but cosseted. More predator than pet, and, well, that’s what he was, wasn’t he? And honestly, it was pretty nice. A language you could feel rather than hear, something just for you.

So you let yourself relax beneath the weight of his scaly bulk with a sigh that wasn’t quite as aggrieved as you would have liked, and his tail twisted another loop around your calves. His fins spread around the pair of you like a roll of fine silks, and while the texture wasn’t exactly soft, they were delicate enough not to feel suffocating or coarse either. Sleek and cool to the touch, and maybe the thickness of canvas. And there were just so many of them. Long, and trailing, and ruffled along the edges like the folds of a fine-boned fan. Your weird, purple blanket. If Riddle ever found out you’d been using a Siren as bed linens, he’d probably have an aneurism and scrub you in one of the scullery buckets for a week straight.

It was stupidly easy to fall asleep like that—wrapped up in lavender and plum, with the thrum of his heart next to yours. You napped all through the afternoon, and only woke up once the sun had set over the horizon.

You blinked awake to stars in the sky and a strange, scratchy sensation at your hip.

The Siren had apparently finished up whatever little bout of insanity that had made him think you’d be the perfect impromptu pillow. He hadn’t gone far—or even anywhere at all really—but he was propped up at the hip now instead of crushing you into the shore. His hand was resting just beneath the hem of your shirt, right over the origin of that bizarre, ticklish feeling. You blinked again to clear the salt and sleep-grit from your eyes, and realized it was his talons. Not ripping, or tearing, or rending. Just very, very carefully tracing a set of shapes into your skin. The same three symbols, over and over. Up, and down, and up, and curled.

He traced those shapes again, and again, and again. It was almost—you’d think it was letters, if not for the strange, swirling pop of them. Almost like the words he’d written in his own language all those days ago. His claw dragged along the skin there in the faintest prickle, leaving slowly growing streaks of red in their wake with each repetition. You opened your mouth, ready to ask him what exactly he was so painstakingly etching into your hip, and paused.

You’d realized over the past however many weeks you’d been marooned on this little crescent of sand and stone that maybe Sirens weren’t all you’d thought them to be. And that maybe you really didn’t know much about them at all. Something about the slow, cautious way that his claws were tracking along your skin made you think that this was another of those things that you just didn’t get. And going by how quiet he was, how stalwart and careful he was being not to let the knife-sharp curves of those talons dig too deep or do anything other than trace back and forth, and back and forth, it might be something… Something important. Or at the very least something that you had no business bothering him about.

Least of all if he’d be leaving any day now.

So you tossed your head back on a very loud, very dramatic yawn and used the ensuing stretch to gently swat his hands away.

He didn’t look put out by your ridiculous show of flopping around and scooching out of his grip, so that was good at least. You sat up and rubbed at your eyes, and he just kept staring. Kept to his place in the soft, wet sand not a foot away and eyes sharp in the lowlight of the evening.

“Well,” you chuffed on another yawn. “I’m starving. Dinner?”

The Siren rolled his eyes and dipped his chin in what could perhaps generously be classified as a nod. He reached up to flick at the mused braid in his hair with a pointed scowl—twisted and tangled from the salt of the sea and his earlier rambunctious tomfoolery. You sighed, overly put upon, and hefted your way to your feet.

“Yes, yes. And I’ll fix your stupid hair.”

Another nod, this one far more pleased, and the Siren settled himself neatly back into the low roll of the waves to watch you work.

The next morning when you clawed your way back into consciousness, the Siren was already awake and staring off into the distance.

The fins along his head were pricked in that same, focused way from before that made you think of a hound dog catching a scent. There was a strange sort of energy about him—not quite nervous, but certainly not anything comfortably at ease either. Unsettled. Jittery. The end of his tail flicked against the sand, and the fins along his spine curled and arched to an unsung tempo.

You followed the path of his leer and didn’t see much of anything yourself. Just an endless stretch of blue in all directions with the occasional white crack of a wave breaking along its surface.

His tail smacked at the muck again and you felt something tight and stupidly, stupidly selfish curl in your stomach.

You swallowed it down, just like you’d said you would. Because you’d meant it when you’d told him he deserved his happy ending, and you weren’t going to let the rotten, nervous thing growing in your guts stop him from having that. Not that you could even if you wanted to, but it was the principle.

“…are you going to swim again today?” you asked, and one of those fins swiveled in your direction. You came to stand at his side and curled your toes in the sand to keep yourself steady. “You should, you know. To make sure everything is really all fixed.”

The Siren tore his gaze away from the sea to cant his head at you with a sharp, suspicious narrowing of his eyes.

You held your hands up in defense. “I’m just saying. You want to be able to go home, don’t you? Back to your pod?”

He frowned, tight, but his glare flickered back out to the mouth of the bay like he couldn’t help himself.

After a long, long moment, he reached out and dug his claws into the sand.

‘Not safe yet.’

You arched a brow. “Oh, come on. I’m sure it’s fine. If anyone could make it back, it’d be you.”

He turned back your way and arched a brow, looking entirely unconvinced.

You huffed and crossed your arms. “Don’t get all modest now. You’re the most obnoxiously proud person I’ve ever met—fish or otherwise. I’m sure you can do anything you set your mind to.”

His brow pinched again, and there was something almost like worry sparking in those amethyst eyes of his.

“Look—” you said, reaching out to plant a palm against his shoulder. “If it doesn’t work out, you can always just come right back here, okay? It’s not like I’m going anywhere.”

You weren’t going to think about how nice that sounded, and how absolutely, bitterly selfish it was to hope that he’d turn right back around and head back. You weren’t.

The Siren’s brow pinched and he turned back to the open water, fins rippling against his sides and mouth twisted down at the corners.

You tugged at the braid in his hair.

“Don’t make me tie you back up again just so I can drag you out.”

He scoffed and spat something at you that looked like it was properly bitchy, and it had your lips quirking on a smirk. But prissiness or no, he’d started to let himself slip down against the surf, to lull deeper into the shallows and flare his fins at his sides for balance rather than a show of irritation.

You swallowed the last, lingering bite of dread at the back of your throat and offered him a winning smile.

The Siren huffed, and right before he sunk all the way into the water, he set his talons by your feet and scribbled—

‘Do not do anything stupid.’

“Yeah, yeah,” you waved off. “Sure.”

He underlined the ‘do not’ with a harsh sneer that could have made paint curl and the fiercest of generals quake in their boots, and you burst into peals of too-fond laughter.

“Okay, okay. I promise. Swear.”

He nodded, firm, and finally—finally—sunk beneath the surface with a grand, sweeping beat of his tail.

He circled the whole of the bay once, twice, thrice, and then set out past the breakwater with another of those bounding leaps that looked like something straight out of a painting.

You sat and watched the rolling waves until the sun was high in the sky, and then long after it had begun its creeping descent. Fat and sluggish over the horizon, dripping gold along the water like the strokes of a paintbrush. Until there were no shadows in the tide, no purple fins popping up from beneath the surface to smack at your ankles. There hadn’t been for hours now. The glint of his tail had slowly grown further and further away, and you’d been staring out at nothing for longer than not.

You stood with a sigh, legs wobbly and prickling with static as you stretched out of your scrunched up crouch.

You moved towards your little shanty hut and carefully readjusted the conch at its helm so that it sat just so. You stepped back with a soft nod and began your familiar trek towards the other side of the island, dutifully ignoring the stutter in your steps and that tight, miserable something twisting in your guts that you refused to name.

It was fine. He’d be home soon, surely. With his pod—his family. Which was what you’d wanted. And now… well, you had to go catch some dinner for you and your octopus. And there was no use waiting around.

You fucking sucked at fishing.

Which was a lesson learned with miserable, sopping wet consequences. You sat in front of your stupid fire, ringing out your stupid, soaked shirt, and sneezing in the chill of the night air. You’d never been responsible for hauling in food on The Rose Queen, and the Siren had basically been feeding your stranded ass from day one (whether intentional or otherwise). And so now here you were. Fishless, friendless, and freezing.

You sighed, miserable, and carefully made your way back to the familiar, little tidepool in the crags. You knelt down by the teeny pool of water there and the octopus inside was immediately scurrying for cover. When no tasty treats rained down overhead like the gift of some benevolent god, it slowly creeped its way out from beneath the stones with a trudging sort of paddling you wanted to call pouty.

“Sorry, little guy,” you huffed. “I don’t have anything for you today.”

You reached forward and the octopus panicked—trying to flee so fast that the poor thing wound up twisting itself in knots. Its stubby tentacles curled and flailed uselessly in its puddle, and you tutted in sympathy. You scooped the blob into your palms and immediately four sets of tentacles were curling around your fingers like a lifeline. Its little suckers pulled at your skin with sticky smacks as it tried to burrow away into your skin. And Sevens—OW! What the Hell!

“Chill, chill!” you squawked, trying to wrangle the thing more securely into your hands and stop it from pinching the flesh clear off your bones. “I’m just—would you—look, I don’t want to drop you, okay? So would you just—"

The octopus screamed, and you didn’t even think that was possible. You could feel the sharp, yowling vibrations of it all along your fingers and a few of the gulls nesting along the rocks took off into the air with a harried flurry of feathers and scrabbling claws. Their wings thwacked the back of your head and you swatted them away with a shrill scream of your own. Why did everything on this stupid island have to be a no good, dramatic, serenading, piece of shi—

“Fine!” you shrieked, feeling your molars ache with it. “Begone!”

And hurled the thing as far as you could over the edge of the rocky shore. It landed in the water with a lackluster plop of fat bubbles and immediately darted away like a prisoner fleeing captivity. And not, you know, the benevolent hand of the very lovely pirate who had been feeding and caring for it all these weeks.

You kicked angrily at a mess of pebbles, and then swore loud and furious when all it did was scuff up your toes and prick bruises into your heels.

You trudged back to your stupid, little hovel and collapsed miserably into the sand.

Here you were, trying to be noble, and kind, and give all of these ridiculous sea creatures the second chance at life that you would never have. And what did you get for it? An empty stomach, an aching heart, and gravel in your fucking feet—

“Well,” you chattered to yourself. Pleasantly poisonous and tendons jumping in your jaw, “I suppose at least it can’t get much worse.”

Which should have been the universe’s signal to do something truly petty. The skies opening overhead in a torrential downpour. Your little, stick home collapsing under the sheer weight of your patheticness. A crab scuttling up from the depths just to pinch your toes. Something like that.

Instead, there was a gentle breeze that tickled your cheeks and coaxed you into looking out over the horizon.

There was something there—something in the distance that you couldn’t quite make out from where you were curled up suffering in the sand. You sniffled past angry tears and scrubbed the back of your hand over your nose, and then let that touch of wind guide you forward on wobbly legs. You had to climb all the way up the salt-slick rocks to get a good look at it. But there it was. Not too far at all actually.

A ship.

Large, and wooden, and cresting through the low rolling waves with all the ease of the monstrous vessel it looked to be. There was a silver insignia emblazoned on its side, but it was still too far away to make out the particulars. But you didn’t care, because it was a ship. An actual, factual ship.

You waved your hands high over your head and shouted at the top of your lungs.

And holy shit, holy shit—maybe the universe didn’t actually hate your poor guts. Maybe there’d be a happy ending to this whole thing after all.

You watched in the distance as an anchor dropped, and you had to stop yourself from tumbling off your rocky perch in your excitement. One of the small dinghies was lowered into the water and a gaggle of crew climbed down to man it. Slowly but surely, that little boat grew closer, and you sprinted down to the shoreline to meet it.

A man with short, dark hair climbed over the side and met you halfway. His eyes were soft, and brown, and kind, and he offered you a warm smile when you nearly tumbled straight into him in your haste—catching a hand around your arms and helping keep you upright.

He said something polite that you assumed was the usual sort of greeting and intrigue into how exactly you’d managed to find yourself in this state of affairs, and you hastily made to explain your situation as you always did.

‘Thank you—I can’t hear, but I can write and read—And I—’

Your train of thought cut off sharply, and your rambling explanations with it. The brunette was already nodding your way in sympathy and rattling off instructions to his crew. They were all decked out in slightly differing variations of the same, white and navy uniform. With golden buttons and sashes glinting in the low light and silver pendants pinned to their breast pockets. Your doe-eyed savior turned back your way and offered you his arm with another of those sap sweet smiles that lit his cheeks in a merry, rosy pink.

You hesitated, throat bobbing around something tight and cold that curdled along the back of your tongue.

Twining songbirds, wings frozen in flight as they soared up towards an endless sky.

The intricate, little emblem stared back at you proudly from its place on his chest, and you couldn’t help but think of the Siren who’d only just left your cove a few hours before.

‘Not safe,’ he’d demanded, dragging you away from the wreck so frantically you’d nearly drowned from it. ‘Not safe.’

The brunette’s smile wavered at your hesitance, and he wrapped his hand around yours to tug you into the boat.

You climbed in on wobbly legs, because—what else were you supposed to do? Stay stranded on this little patch of sand and stone until you starved to death or went mad from loneliness? Run? From sailors with swords on their belts as long as your arm? To hide on an island that you could traverse in its entirety in a half hour or less? You were always one to happily snatch up the weird and wonderful opportunities life could present to you and run them into the ground, but now… What else was there?

You were settled against one of the small, wooden benches and the brunette shucked off his jacket to drape over your shoulders and the silver songbirds glinted in the low light. He offered you another of those warm, warm smiles before turning to call an order to his crew.

You sighed, miserable, and slouched against the siding—fingers dangling down to brush along the surface of the water.

‘Do not do anything stupid,’ your Siren had said.

And you’d really been hoping to last more than twenty-four-freaking-hours before inevitably breaking that promise, but it seemed the universe really was out to get you after all.

[TAG LIST - CLOSED]

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#twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #Vil Schoenheit x Reader #Vil x Reader #vil schoenheit #Monster Mayhem #My Writing #vil shoenheit #Siren!Vil #Mermaid!Vil #Fantasy AU #Monster Mayhem Vil Part 4

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starsinthesky5 · 15 days ago

Text

so high school || joe burrow x reader

description: who knew that an unexpected relationship with a guy you never thought you’d be with would be the happiest, healthiest, and most special relationship in your life? it makes you feel like you’re back in high school and have a crush on the sweetest boy you’ve ever met ;)

a/n: completely reworked and basically a brand new version with more plot and detail of the so high school fic from last year ;) also, a much needed little thing to make everyone smile after yesterday’s games and because we all miss mr. joey b so badly

word count: 25k

warnings: hint of smut, too much fluff to handle, language, suggestive themes. MDNI.

taglist: (ask to be added): @joeyfranchise @joeyb1989 @joeyburrrow @softburrow @burrowbarbie @yelenasbraid @lovelyburrow @grittysbiggestfan @definitelynotdomanique

───────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───────

You took a deep breath, letting the salty aroma of the ocean fill your lungs as your eyes fluttered shut. The soft, sun-warmed sand moved beneath your toes as you wiggled them, savoring the feeling you had been missing for quite some time. The air around you was alive, carrying a sense of youth and freedom, like the whisper of summers gone by. You heard the soft mew of the seagulls above you, their melody threading through the faint hum of a classic summer pop song floating from distant loudspeakers. The sounds and smells were so familiar, so nostalgic, that for a moment you could almost feel 16 again—back at this very place where every day felt endless, and joy was as simple as sand between your toes and the sun on your skin.

Sweetwater Cove.

Home.

You were finally home. Not just to the sandy shores and rolling waves of your childhood, but to the one place that had always felt like peace. But home wasn’t just this place. Home was him. It was in his laugh, his smile, and the crinkles around his softening blue eyes whenever they met yours.

“Y/N, they said they’re about 30 minutes away!” Joe called from the patio door, where he had been standing for about five minutes, admiring you in your most natural state—so carefree and light as you relaxed on the beach. “Come inside so we can get everything set up,”.

You took in one final breath of the ocean air before tilting your head back with a grin. “Okayyyy,” you said, looking over at him. You noticed his soft golden locks curling at the ends, looking as if they hadn’t been brushed through in a few hours. It had that “post-ocean water” look—slightly messy from the time you’d spent playing in the waves earlier. But somehow, it was perfect, as if the saltwater and breeze had styled it just right, making him look effortlessly handsome, like he belonged to the sea and this moment with you.

You carefully got up from your spot on the sand, dusting off any clinging to your sunkissed skin, and made your way inside the house, wiping your feet on the mat outside since you had just cleaned. Joe stood at the kitchen counter, sorting through the bags of food he had ordered from one of your favorite restaurants—The Salty Gull. “I’m just gonna put out the quick bites for now so the rest doesn’t get cold,” he says, pulling out the seaside shrimp skewers, tidepool tacos, island BBQ drumsticks, and a few more of your absolute favorite items from their coastal themed menu.

“Thank you, Joey,” you beamed, your heart fluttering as you watched your boyfriend go all out to make your beach reunion with your cousins special. From the nostalgic spread of food to the goofy high school games—like a spin-the-bottle twist where dares and shots replaced the usual kisses—he’d thought of everything. There were boxes of White Claws, High Noons, and bottles of Fireball, all lined up and ready for fun. And to top it off, he’d curated the perfect playlist of old summer hits, from Hey, Soul Sister to Beauty and the Beat to Party in the U.S.A, each song a reminder of carefree nights you spent here in years past. You couldn’t help but feel a rush of warmth fill your body, grateful for how much effort he’d put into making this moment feel just like the good old days.

Every summer, your cousins would come to Sweetwater Cove, your home, for a few weeks of sun-soaked memories. You and your older cousins used to make it a tradition—heading down to the beach together for lazy days, impromptu games till 3 in the morning, and nights filled with drunken laughter and stupid teenage fun that almost had you at the doorstep of the local police station. But as time passed, life and responsibilities crept in, and it became harder and harder to coordinate. The summers grew shorter, and the days of carefree fun began to fade into the background. So, when you told Joe about your precious summers at Sweetwater Cove, how the beach had always been a place of laughter and connection for you, he didn’t hesitate. He was determined to bring some of that magic back, to give you a piece of your past amidst the present since you now lived with him in Ohio. Without a second thought, he took control and made it happen—inviting your cousins to join you for a few days during your beach trip just to see the smile on your face grow a little more.

You honestly couldn’t get over the fact that Joe just…existed. How could someone be so effortlessly perfect at everything? At being the kind of partner who made your heart race with just a look, who somehow managed to keep you feeling the same butterflies you’d felt the very first time you saw him. It didn’t seem fair that someone could be so good at easily making you feel giddy and adored all at once, like you were falling in love over and over again, every single day. He always thought of you in everything he did, whether it was picking up your favorite snack on his way home from practice without you even asking, or remembering the little stories you told him months ago and threading them into your days like they were part of his own memories. Whether it was planning thoughtful surprises like this week at the Cove, or simply pulling you close in the middle of a conversation because he couldn’t stand to not be touching you. Joe had this way of making you feel like the center of his universe, as if nothing else mattered but you.

When he told you he wanted to experience the summers you couldn’t stop raving about—the ones you’d talk about for hours with a dreamy smile and that look—you almost fell out of your chair. You had always dreamed of bringing Joe to the Cove, but the timing never seemed quite right. Life always had a way of interfering—whether it was work, commitments, or simply the Cove being at the height of its summer season. Knowing how much Joe valued peace and privacy, you’d never want to drag him out here in the midst of all the tourists, locals, and teenage chaos. But it was as if the stars finally aligned. The moment Joe mentioned wanting to come out here overlapped perfectly with the early off-season break out here—a rare window when the Cove was quiet, the beaches less crowded, and the air filled only with the soft hum of the waves and the occasional call of seagulls. It felt like fate, as if the universe itself had devised a plan to give you this perfect moment to share the place that meant so much to you with the person who meant even more.

You managed to take Joe to all your favorite spots, the first being Landry’s arcade, the place where you set the Cove’s Dance Dance Revolution record at 16 years old, which Joe tried to beat when you took him. But your dance skills were so good for the Quarterback’s precise footwork that you ended up almost breaking your own record. The next place you took him was all of the cute coastal shops along the boardwalk, each one carrying its own story and memory that you told Joe about as you walked hand in hand. He couldn’t stop laughing while you were telling him the story about the cooky old lady that owns the antique shop around the corner and how she busted you and your cousins for trying to sneak onto the pier after it closed. He couldn’t stop laughing, practically doubling over as you told the story. His laughter vibrated through him so hard that he grabbed your arm for support, leaning into you like he might collapse if you told him anything else.

“She came out of nowhere,” you said, gesturing dramatically, your own laughter slipping through your words. “One second, we thought we were in the clear, making a break for the fences, and then BAM! There she was with her flashlight, yelling, ‘I may be old, but I’m not blind, you little hooligans!’”.

Joe practically howled, his head falling against your shoulder as he clung to your arm like a lifeline. “She actually said hooligans? Oh my god, I can’t—did she come with a cane or something too?”.

“She might as well have!” you laughed, shaking your head. “And then she started lecturing us about how the pier was closed for ‘very good reasons’ and how kids like us were going to bring about the downfall of civilization. I tried to apologize, but then James—of course—tripped over a loose board and knocked over a trash can. And she just froze, pointed her flashlight at us, and yelled, ‘THAT’S IT! I’M CALLING THE COPS! in the most grouchy voice ever,’”.

At that point, Joe was laughing so hard he was clutching your waist for balance, practically using you as a crutch while you walked past Sully’s Surf Shop, the place where you got your first and only surfboard when you were 13. “There’s no way in hell that actually happened,” he shook his head.

“I swear!” you said, laughing just as hard now, trying to keep both of you upright. “We ran so fast, we probably looked like Scooby-Doo characters. And now, to this day, every time I walk by her shop, she gives me the dirtiest look,”.

Joe buried his face into your shoulder, still shaking with laughter. “I can’t breathe. I literally can’t. Please tell me she still has the flashlight,” he managed to say, gasping for air.

“Oh, I wouldn’t be surprised if she sleeps with it under her pillow,” you joked, and Joe completely melted, his laughter muffled against you as he clung tighter. Something about this trip was making Joe relax in a way he had never before, he was so loose, free, and almost acting like his younger self again. He even looked the part with his backwards cap, unbuttoned beach shirt showing off his toned body, and adorable palm tree swimshorts that you swore must have been from high school with how faded they were.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he said between wheezes, his cheeks flushed and his eyes watering. “But honestly, if you were a hooligan, I’d totally be your accomplice,”.

—

You ended your boardwalk stroll with a meal that could only be described as pure, indulgent bliss. It started with a pile of crispy boardwalk fries—seasoned to perfection with salt and a dash of vinegar and so good that you both couldn’t stop stealing from each other’s pile, even though they were meant to share. Next came a slice of pizza so greasy it basically sparkled in the light, but it was hands-down the tastiest pizza you’d ever had. Every bite was a little piece of heaven, with Joe teasing you for trying to fold your slice like a “real pro”.

To top it all off, you shared a huge cherry slurpee, sipping from the same straw until you both simultaneously winced from a shared brain freeze. Joe groaned dramatically, clutching his forehead, while you couldn’t stop laughing, tears forming in your eyes as the cold pounded through your head. “Why do we do this to ourselves?” he asked, squinting at the slurpee like it had personally backstabbed him.

“Because it’s worth it and we’re a little crazy,” you shot back with a grin, taking another sip despite the risk.

Joe shook his head with a grin, his eyes crinkling in that way that made your heart flip. “A little crazy? Speak for yourself. I think I’m full-on insane for letting you convince me this was a good idea,” he said, leaning closer until your shoulders brushed. “You know I hate brain freezes,”.

“And yet,” you challenged with a smirk, “You’re going back for another sip,”.

He rolled his eyes, but there was no denying the twinkle in them as he leaned in and took another exaggerated slurp, making you giggle all over again.

The two of you sat there on the bench overlooking the water, the sunset painting the waves in shades of gold and pink. The sea breeze brushed against your cheeks as you took turns finishing the slurpee, both of you trading playful nudges and stolen glances. At one point, Joe turned to you, his blue eyes soft and unwavering. “You know,” he murmured, “I’d get a hundred brain freezes if it meant making you laugh like that again,”.

Your heart swelled at his words, and without thinking, you leaned in to press a sweet, lingering kiss to his lips. “You’re such a sap,” you whispered against his mouth, smiling at how adorable he was around you.

“Maybe,” he replied, his forehead resting gently against yours. “But only for you,”.

—

The entire week you had already spent here with him made it feel like you were back in high school, going to the same places, eating the same things, and making memories in the same ways as you did with your friends and cousins back when you were just a simple girl running around in your worn out converses. Even Joe felt it—that youthful energy coursing through his veins. But for him, it wasn’t just the beach or the boardwalk or the nostalgia the breeze carried. It was you. It was in the way your eyes lit up every time you showed him a piece of your past, how your laughter was louder than the waves, and how your smile seemed to glow brighter here. Every time he looked at you, he felt it—a rush of unfiltered joy and excitement, like he was living out his own version of those golden summers, all because of you.

You didn’t realize how long you were staring at Joe until he playfully threw a chip at your face, causing you to flinch and snap free from your little re-run of the past few days. “Did I lose you there?” he laughs while leaning against the oven, a smug grin on his face while he eyes you.

You tried to hide your embarrassment, your cheeks burning as you realized he had caught you staring at him like that. Even after all these years, the way he looked at you still had the power to make you feel like a nervous teenager with a schoolgirl crush. You quickly looked away, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, your voice a little shaky as you tried to recover. “Yeah,” you said, your smile trembling as you fought to play it cool. “What were you saying? Sorry, I…uh…got distracted,”.

“Oh, I just said we should hit the pier later tonight if we can…without breaking and entering,” he made sure to mention that last bit because of your near run-in with the cops for trying to break in a few years ago. “I remember you saying that you guys loved going down there at night since the rides would be the most fun in the dark,”.

“Oh, it’s a must,” you emphasize, nodding energetically as you start to squirm a little under the intensity of Joe’s gaze. His eyes were locked on you as if he could see straight through you, and it made you feel a little too warm.

“Mhm. Also, quick question…,”.

You glance up, trying to act casual as you take a bite of the chip he just tossed your way. “Shoot,” you reply, trying to sound cool and calm.

“Why were you staring at me like that just now?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. “Did you need to say something?”.

The chip caught in your throat, and you coughed lightly, your cheeks instantly heating up. Joe hopped off the counter with that same teasing grin plastered on his face, closing the distance between you in a way that made your pulse rush.

He leaned down, resting a hand on either side of you on the kitchen island, trapping you in his gaze. “C’mon, babe,” he said softly, his voice dripping with mischief. “You were looking at me like I was the last slice of pizza on Earth. What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”.

You fished for an answer, but the way he was looking at you—so smug, so knowing—had your thoughts scrambling. “Oh, no reason,” you giggled nervously, trying to brush it off, but Joe wasn’t buying it.

“No reason?” he repeated, his grin growing as he leaned in closer. His voice dropped an octave, sending a shiver down your spine. “You sure about that? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like my girl’s got something on her mind,”.

You tried to hold your ground, but between his teasing tone and the way his eyes softened just enough to make your heart flutter, you knew you were done for. “It’s nothing important, I swear,” you said, your voice breathy as you wrapped your arms around his neck in a weak attempt to distract him.

“Sureee,” he says, rolling his eyes in the way he always does when he’s onto you.

“It was nothing important, I swear,” you insist, planting a quick kiss on his nose to distract him.

“If you say so,” he replies, his smile softening as he mirrors your action, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose. “You look gorgeous, by the way,”.

Your heart melts a little at his words, the warmth of his arms around you making everything feel a little more right. “You’re just saying that to get me to tell you why I was staring,” you tease, but the butterflies in your stomach give you away.

All you were wearing was a simple pair of jean shorts and a lilac tank top, nothing fancy, but just enough to catch your boyfriend's eye and make his gaze linger a little longer than usual.

“Or…I’m saying it because you’re making me feel a type of way, wearing something that fits you like skin and is a little,” he begins to say, pulling you closer into him mid-sentence and making your breath hitch, “A little…too sexy to wear before your family comes over,” he finishes, eyeing you like a hungry tiger before launching his mouth towards yours and pulling you in for a kiss. His hand slides up your waist and around to your back as he pushes you deeper into him. Your fingers instinctively found their way into his messy golden locks, pulling gently as his lips moved with yours, every touch igniting a fire under your skin.

“Mm, Joe,” you breathed out, trying to pull back, but he wasn’t ready to let you go. His lips chased yours, his hand sliding lower to grip your ass firmly, producing a quiet gasp from you.

You smiled against his lips, knowing exactly where his mind was heading. His kisses turned more urgent, his hands more wild, and before you could think twice, he had you backed against the counter. His hands cupped your ass as he lifted you effortlessly onto the surface, stepping between your legs with a hungry determination.

You hooked your legs around his waist, pulling him closer as his hands roamed your thighs, thumbs grazing the edge of your shorts. His lips didn’t leave yours for a second, his tongue slipping past your lips in a way that left you dizzy, his teeth gently tugging at your bottom lip before soothing it with a kiss. One of his hands slid to the button of your shorts, fumbling with it as he pressed his body against yours. “Joe,” you whispered breathlessly, cradling his face in your hands to steady yourself. “They’re going to be here soon,”.

His lips trailed to your jaw, then down to your neck, leaving a trail of heat as he hummed against your skin. “We’ll be quick,” he muttered, his voice low and husky as his hand grazed your bare thigh.

You bit your lip, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of your mouth. “Quick?” you teased. “The fastest we’ve ever been is thirty minutes, maybe,”.

Joe’s lips curled into a sly grin, his blue eyes darkening with a mixture of desire and challenge as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear. “Then maybe we should break that record,” he murmured, his voice dripping with intent. “I’m pretty good at putting up new stats and breaking records…,”.

Before you could respond, his lips were on yours again, fiercer this time, igniting every nerve in your body. His hands gripped your thighs, spreading them wider as he pressed himself firmly against you, his heat burning through the thin fabric of your clothes. The counter beneath you felt cool in contrast, grounding you as he took over every sense you had. “Joe,” you gasped again against his lips, but he silenced you with a teasing nip to your bottom lip. His hands slid under your tank top, his calloused fingers grazing your bare skin, sending shivers down your spine.

“You can’t tease me like that,” he growled softly, his lips trailing down your jawline to your neck, where he nipped and kissed, leaving a path of fire in his wake. “You know I don’t have that kind of patience when it comes to you,”.

You couldn’t help but moan as his lips found the sensitive spot just below your ear, his hands sliding further up your body, leaving no inch untouched. “Joey, they’re going to be here any minute,” you managed to whisper.

“Let them wait,” he muttered against your skin, his lips returning to yours in a kiss that made your toes curl. One of his hands slipped back to the waistband of your shorts, unbuttoning them with ease, while his other hand held your hip to keep you steady.

“Joe,” you whimpered, your hands threading through his hair as he tugged your shorts slightly down your thighs, his lips moving to your collarbone.

“I’ll make it fast…we don’t have to go all the way,” he promised, his voice a deep rumble that sent heat pooling low in your belly. His kisses became more desperate, his grip on you firm yet worshipful, as if he couldn’t get enough of you.

You pulled his face back to yours, catching his lips in another heated kiss, your body already giving in to the magnetic pull he had over you. “We’ll definitely need to continue this later,” you whispered breathlessly against his mouth, your legs tightening around his waist to keep him close.

“You can count on that,” he winked, his voice dripping with promise. His hands slid to your hips, firmly yet tenderly guiding you back against the cool surface of the counter. You leaned back, your heart pounding in anticipation, a grin tugging at your lips as his gaze burned into you, dark and blazing.

A few hours later

A little later, your cousins—Sydney, James, Bella, and Michael—had finally settled into the house, their laughter and chatter filling the air as if no time had passed since your last reunion. The patio was alive with the sound of glasses clinking, plates being passed around, and waves crashing faintly in the background. The warm glow of string lights above created a cozy, magical ambiance, and the smell of saltwater mixed with the aroma of grilled food floating through the air.

Non-stop laughter erupted as stories were exchanged, each one more ridiculous than the last. James was crouched over, wiping tears from his eyes after Bella’s exaggerated retelling of her disastrous first date. You took another sip of your drink, a chilled cocktail that Joe had made just for you exactly to your liking, and as your gaze wandered, it landed on him—your boyfriend.

Joe sat beside you on the loveseat, his presence warm and steady, his hand comfortably entwined with yours as if it had always belonged there. His thumb traced slow, lazy circles against your skin, grounding you in a way that made your heart swell. He was mid-story—the one he loved to tell over and over, about the first time he saw you—and though you’d heard it a million times, you could barely focus on his words because of how captivating he looked in that moment.

The soft golden strands of his hair, still a little messy from the ocean breeze, seemed to glow under the twinkling patio lights. His smile was so radiant and bright it felt like the world had stopped spinning just to make room for it, and the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he laughed sent your heart into overdrive. “And I swear, she nearly fell over when I put my arm around her,” Joe said, his deep, rich laugh echoing through the patio. Everyone joined in, and you groaned, your cheeking turning pink in the light as you playfully swatted at his arm.

“You don’t have to tell that part every time,” you said, shaking your head but smiling anyway. The memory flooded back to you like a breath of fresh air, the same fluttery feeling filling your chest as it had that day.

“Oh, come on, it’s the best part,” Joe teased, leaning in closer, his breath brushing against your cheek. He gave your hand a gentle squeeze, his thumb brushing across your knuckles as he grinned down at you, his eyes holding that unmistakable adoration that made you feel like the only person in the world.

Sydney rolled her eyes but couldn’t help laughing. “I’ve heard this story a dozen times, and it still makes me want to gag. You two are disgustingly cute,” she teased, though the smile on her face betrayed her.

“Disgustingly perfect is more like it,” Bella chimed in, raising her glass with a dramatic touch. “Seriously, you’re what everyone hopes for but never actually gets. It’s not even fair,”.

Joe chuckled, his deep laugh vibrating through you as he lifted your hand to his lips and pressed the softest kiss to your knuckles. The simple gesture sent a shiver down your spine, and you swore your heart might actually burst into a cloud of pink dust. “Hey, I can’t help it if I got lucky,” he said softly, his eyes locking on yours in a way that made everything else fade into the background.

You leaned your head against his shoulder, your smile trembling as your chest swelled with affection. “I think I’m the lucky one,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, but Joe caught it. He always caught everything when it came to you.

His arm slid around your shoulders, pulling you just a little closer, his lips brushing against your temple in a kiss so tender it made your eyes sting with happy tears. “Nah,” he murmured, his voice soft and steady. “I wake up every day wondering how I ended up with someone like you. I still don’t believe it’s real sometimes,”.

The group collectively groaned, though they were all smiling, even Michael, who shook his head in mock irritation. “You two are killing me. Can you at least tone it down while the rest of us sit here single and bitter?”.

Joe laughed, holding you even tighter to double down on his point. “Sorry, guys,” he said, but he didn’t look sorry at all. He looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky, and in that moment, with your cousins laughing and the ocean breeze swirling around you, you knew you’d never felt more at home.

“I still can’t believe how we ended up together,” you murmured, letting out a soft sigh as you rested your head on Joe’s shoulder. The warmth of his body wrapped around you like a familiar blanket, and your mind drifted back to the day your life had changed forever. It was a memory so vivid and precious that it felt like a favorite song you never got tired of replaying.

Flashback to LSU

You were buried in the library, surrounded by stacks of books as you frantically worked to finish your research paper on Metaphysics for your Philosophy class. Time had completely slipped away from you, your focus so consumed by the material in front of you that you’d completely forgotten about your promise to help your best friend get ready for her date. The only thing keeping you grounded was the big, warm cup of coffee at your side, your lifeline in the chaos. Your eyes darted to the clock hanging above the nearest bookshelf, and your stomach dropped. 2:30. Panic set in as you realized you were supposed to be at your best friend’s apartment ten minutes ago to help her get ready for her big date. The same best friend who, not too subtly, had begged you not to be late this time.

“Fuck,” you whispered, your anxiety hitting you like a moving truck as you scrambled to shut your laptop. Your hands trembled slightly as you shoved your books into your bag, not caring how poorly they were stacked. With one hand clutching your coffee, you darted toward the stairs, your mind racing with everything you still needed to do plus helping your friend for her date.

But, of course, the universe decided to humble you.

At the worst possible time.

You didn’t see the book cart until your coffee was already mid-air, splattering its contents across a fresh new stack of college textbooks.

“Shit!” you hissed, dropping your bag as you instinctively tried to inspect the damage. Coffee had oozed through the crisp pages, staining them with sticky, brown splashes. Before you could even take another breath, the librarian appeared, her sharp gaze cutting through you like a dagger. “What on earth happened here?” she demanded, the stern look on her face making you want to throw up.

“I…I’m so sorry,” you stuttered, dropping to your knees to salvage the books. But it was no use. The damage was done.

She crossed her arms, her expression hardened with disapproval as her sharp eyes bore into you. “Do you have any idea how expensive these textbooks are?” she snapped, her tone dripping with irritation. “This isn’t some kind of playground. These books aren’t just resources—they’re the foundation of education, invaluable tools for learning. And yet, here they are, drenched in coffee. Do you understand the monetary value of what you’ve just ruined?” Her voice rose slightly with each word, the weight of her frustration pressing down on you like a concrete force.

“I didn’t mean to!” you said quickly, your face heating up and your breaths getting shorter. “I was in a rush! I wasn’t paying attention, and—,”.

“That’s what they all say,” she said while motioning toward the mess, her tone signaling that she didn’t believe you. “Four completely ruined books. That’ll be at least $500. And that’s if you get lucky…some of these were most definitely brand new,”.

Your stomach dropped. “Five Hundred Dollars? I don’t have that kind of money!” you stared, part of you not believing what she just said.

The librarian’s gaze flicked to the No Food Or Drinks Allowed sign hanging nearby, and her lips thinned. “Maybe you should’ve thought of that before bringing coffee into the library,” she said while adjusting her overly large-glasses.

You swallowed hard, already dreading the inevitable hit to your bank account. Your paycheck from the school store wouldn’t even hit until next week, and it was barely enough to cover your apartment’s rent, let alone $500 worth of textbooks.

“Come with me, young lady,” the librarian said firmly, turning on her heel. “We’ll settle this at the front desk,”.

You stared after her in disbelief, a wave of frustration and dread washing over you. “Oh my god, is this karma for something? Did I accidentally step on a ladybug? Did I hit a bird with my car?” you thought bitterly, your inner thoughts spiraling as humiliation burned hot in your chest.

Letting out a shaky breath, you surrendered to your fate and bent down to pick up your bag, your hands trembling even more as you struggled to compose yourself. The sharp sting of embarrassment felt overwhelming, and you prayed silently that no one else was watching your disaster unfold.

But just as you straightened up, something unexpected happened.

You felt it before you saw it—a warm, strong, and steady arm sliding around your waist, pulling you close with easy confidence. The unexpected touch sent a jolt of electricity through your body, your breath catching in your throat as your heart skipped a beat. Your mind blanked for a moment, your body freezing as a surge of heat spread across your cheeks.

“That won’t be necessary, Ms. Cindy,” a low, silky voice murmured from beside you. The sound of it sent a shiver down your spine, the kind of voice that could soothe a brewing storm, or command it.

Who’s voice…?

“This is my girlfriend,” the voice continued smoothly, the words sending a shiver down your spine. “She was rushing to meet me for our date at the FroYo place down the street. Punctuality’s not really her thing…lovebug must’ve lost track of time again because she’s just so focused on school and got a little clumsy,” he laughed, that throaty, rich laugh ever so familiar. “Ain’t that right, lovebug?”.

You froze, your brain struggling to catch up with the moment. That strong, steady arm wrapped around your waist. That teasing charm lacing his voice. And then, faintly, the scent hit you—a mix of fresh-cut grass and something deeper, richer, like…Soleil Blanc? Tom Ford?

Your heart thudded wildly in your chest as his arm tightened ever so slightly, grounding you, and against your better judgment, you dared to glance up and one look into those striking blue eyes nearly pushed you down to the ground.

Joe. Freaking. Burrow.

Your stomach flipped at the sight of him. His golden hair was slightly tousled, as if he’d just walked off a photo shoot instead of waltzing into your train wreck of a life. His piercing irises sparkled with mischief, framed by those unfairly long lashes that made your knees weak.

And that smirk. Oh god, that smirk. The one you’d seen a hundred times on highlight reels and posters around campus, but never imagined would be this close. It tugged at the corner of his lips, radiating a kind of confidence that somehow managed to be both devastating and endearing.

For a moment, you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. All you could do was stare, your mind a complete whirlwind of panic, disbelief, and something dangerously close to…attraction.

Your silence stretched thin, hanging in the air like a tight wire about to snap. The librarian’s eyes were locked on you, her disapproval clear, and Joe—still standing beside you—looked equally curious, but much more patient. Yet, you couldn’t focus on either of them.

You were utterly and hopelessly distracted by the way Joe’s sharp baby blues—the eyes every girl on campus couldn’t stop whispering about—were fixed on you, as if you were the only thing in the room worth looking at. The way they crinkled at the edges when he smiled, how they seemed to study you, almost like he was trying to figure you out. It was disarming. Dangerous.

And Joe? He wasn’t immune, either. He couldn’t explain why his gaze refused to leave yours, but something about you had him utterly fascinated. It wasn’t just your beauty—though that was undeniable—but the soft nervousness you bled, the way your lips parted slightly, caught between uncertainty and stubborn determination.

His fingers flexed gently at your hip, grounding you both, coaxing you out of your daze. The warmth of his touch burned through the fabric of your top, sending a jolt down your spine. “R- right,” you stammered, finally breaking the silence, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joe’s lips quirked up in an almost invisible smile at your flustered tone, a quiet triumph in his expression. He was enjoying the hell out of this. The librarian mumbled something that you could barely understand because for some reason, standing here under Joe Burrow’s protective arm, you felt like you wanted to disappear into him completely, to hide from the world and just stay where his gaze was soft and his touch felt steady.

“Oh, I see,” Ms. Cindy said, her tone softening immediately. “So this was your fault?”.

“Pretty much,” Joe said with an easy shrug as he looked back at her, his lips now curving into a smile that could probably charm his way out of anything his golden heart desired. “So if someone needs to pay for the books, that’d be me,”.

Why was he helping you? You barely knew each other…you’ve literally never had a conversation with the man before.

“Oh, Joe, that won’t be necessary,” the librarian smiled, her cold demeanor melting into something much gentler. “I didn’t know you had a girlfriend!” she grinned, her random surge of friendliness catching you off guard and making you confused. What happened to the grouchy old librarian that was about to burn you at the stake for ruining a few textbooks?

Your heart raced as his hand slid up slightly, resting firmly against the small of your back. “Yeah, well, she’s pretty special,” he said, glancing down at you with that smirk that made your knees feel weak. “She’s my most prized possession and my lucky charm…don’t want anyone to jinx her or anything so we’re keeping it lowkey for now,” he nodded, leaning into you even more with that sentence.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to nod. “Yup,” you said, your voice coming out shakier than you intended. “That’s me. The…special, lowkey, lucky ch– charm girlfriend,”.

Joe chuckled softly, the sound was so soft and boyish it made your heart swell, his eyes lingering on yours with a look so determined to figure you out it felt like he could see straight through you. “We’re actually running late for our date,” he said, turning to Ms. Cindy as if the words that left his mouth were the most natural things in the world. His arm around your waist shifted slightly, pulling you closer, and the warmth of his touch sent a tingling sensation up your spine. “So we’ll come back later about the books. Right, babe? I got them for you, don’t worry about it,”.

Your heart stuttered at the affection in his vocie, and for a moment, you swore the whole library was spinning. “Uh…yeah!” you blurted, the words tumbling out awkwardly as you leaned further into the role he’d crafted for you, your voice a little too enthusiastic. “That FroYo is definitely calling my name. Sorry about the books, Ms. Cindy,”.

Ms. Cindy waved you off with a kind smile, seemingly charmed by Joe’s presence. “No worries, dear, you two go ahead and enjoy yourselves. You’re only young and in love once,” she said, her tone softer than it had been just moments before.

“In love? Oh my god, if anyone hear’s about this I’m so fucked,” you thought to yourself, feeling like there was about a million eyes on you right now in that library…but in reality, the only eyes on you were those of a man who felt his heart stop the moment you looked at him.

You barely registered the rest of her parting words. Your entire focus was on Joe—the way his arm remained firmly around your waist, his thumb absentmindedly tracing small circles against your side in a gesture that almost felt like was to calm your nerves…as if he just knew how you were feeling, and the way his body radiated a constant warmth that made you feel both flustered and oddly safe.

Your thoughts were a chaotic mess. He was too much. Too magnetic, too confident, too…him. The kind of guy you’d want to find in a crowd just so you could hide from him. Because how were you supposed to survive the mere force of his presence without completely melting into a puddle?

—

Joe didn’t let go of you until you were outside, and even then, his hand lingered on your waist, his touch tight and steady. The two of you walked in silence for a moment, your mind racing as you tried to process what had just happened.

Finally, you turned to him, your voice barely above a whisper because you just…didn’t know what to do or say, you were just confused. “Why did you do that?”.

Joe stopped walking, turning to face you fully. His eyes softened as he looked at you, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “You looked like you needed a lifeline,” he said simply.

Your cheeks flushed, and you looked away, suddenly hyper-aware of how close he was to you. “But you don’t even know me,” you said softly.

“Not yet,” he said, his voice dropping just slightly. He reached out, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “But I figured this was a good place to start,”.

Your breath caught as his fingers brushed against your skin, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. He stepped closer, his gaze locking onto yours. “Besides,” he added, his lips curving into that devastatingly charming smile, “I couldn’t just let you drown back there,”.

You blinked up at him, completely at a loss for words. Was this real life?

“Thank you, Joe,” you smiled, a warm, fluttering feeling blossoming in your chest. It felt so... high school, like that excited rush when a cute guy notices you for the first time and you can’t help but feel all giggly and nervous at once. You hadn’t felt like this in forever, like butterflies were swarming in your stomach, making everything feel just a little bit lighter. The way he looked at you, his smile, the way he touched you—it was all so perfect.

It was the kind of innocent excitement you’d only read about in teen romance novels or seen in cheesy rom-coms. And now, here you were, living it, as if you had stepped into your own version of one of those movies. You tried to keep your composure, but you couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face as you met his eyes again. There was something about him—about this—that made you feel like a teenager again, all caught up in the thrill of an unexpected moment.

“Anytime,” he replied easily, slipping his hands into the pockets of his purple LSU football shorts. He tilted his head slightly, a playful glint in his eye. “I didn’t catch your name?”.

“Y/N,” you said softly, watching his reaction.

“Y/N,” he repeated, letting the name roll off his tongue with a small smile. “You looked like you needed some saving. And I’m one of Ms. Cindy’s favorites, so I figured I could help,”.

You raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, what was that about? She was ready to charge me $500, and then you waltz in, and she just forgets it all,”.

Joe laughed, the sound becoming something you craved because every time it filled the air, your smile grew just a little wider. And when it ended, all you wanted was to hear it again. “Me and Ms. Cindy go waaay back,” he said. “She really helped me out when I transferred here from Ohio State and had no idea what I was doing on campus. She’s like my campus mom. I’m pretty much her favorite student ever—helped her out around the library, stayed late during finals week when the textbooks were flying off the shelves, and she was completely overwhelmed. She needed a–,”.

“A lifeline?” you interrupted, the words slipping out before you could stop yourself, a blush blossoming on your cheeks as your eyes met his.

Joe paused, his lips parted as if he were about to say something, but nothing came out. He just looked at you, those beautiful blue eyes that were practically glowing in the Lousiana sun locked on yours, his expression caught between surprise and something softer—something that made your heart skip a beat.

“You seem like a helper, Joe,” you said with a soft giggle, trying to fill the sudden silence, your voice carrying a playful edge. “I like it. Your charm is pretty hard to beat,”.

“Thanks,” he replied, his grin widening, that dimple of his making an appearance. He shifted on his feet, and for a split second, you could have sworn he looked…nervous?

You blinked in surprise. “Wait. Was he…nervous?” you thought. He was bouncing on the balls of his feet, a habit you recognized as something you did when you were trying to hide your nerves. The thought made your heart flutter.

Before you could respond, Joe reached for your hand, his fingers entwining with yours. “Come on,” he said, tugging you gently toward the street. “I owe you a FroYo now. It’s part of the whole fake-boyfriend package,”.

Your stomach fluttered at his words, the hot sensation spreading like wildfire through your body. There was absolutely no way the quarterback of the LSU Tigers, QB1 himself, was asking you to get FroYo with him. You? Some random girl he helped at the library, who he’d literally never seen before? The thought made your head spin in the best way because you couldn’t quite figure him out…but part of you was up for the challenge.

“Oh, um…are you sure?” you stammered, still trying to make sense of the situation. “I mean, you probably have somewhere to be, and–,”.

“Actually, I just got done with film study,” Joe interrupted, pausing to turn and look at you again. “And I know you're free too because you're definitely late to wherever you were rushing off to,”.

His words hit you like a gentle wave, washing over you with an unexpected warmth you hadn’t felt in ages. Was he…remembering? Did he actually notice how flustered you’d been earlier—how your actions were rushed and chaotic, your face a mixture of determination and panic? He hadn’t just walked in on the aftermath of your coffee-spilling disaster; he’d seen everything leading up to it. He saw how you were scrambling to stuff your books into your bag, how you quickly glanced at the time before attempting to bolt down the stairs, completely oblivious to the book cart.

He saw you typing furiously, pausing here and there to sip your coffee while muttering something under your breath—probably a half-formed argument about metaphysics or a prayer to make the paper magically write itself. You stayed silent for a heartbeat, caught up in the realization. His gaze was still on you, unwavering and intense, studying you with a focus that felt both thrilling and scary. It wasn’t just polite attention—it was as if he were memorizing every detail, like the way your hair framed your face, the flush creeping up your neck, and the way your fingers fidgeted with the strap of your bag.

You felt like the center of his universe in that moment, and it was almost too much to bear. A million thoughts ran through your head, but the loudest one was a quiet plea: Please don’t stop looking at me like that.

Joe added with a soft laugh, “And I would love to know how we got to where we are right now,”.

Your mind raced as you processed his words, your thoughts a whirlwind of uncertainty and curiosity. The part of you that had been skeptical—telling you this was just some fluke moment—was slowly being drowned out by the urge to throw caution to the wind. “Why not?” you asked yourself. “It’s just FroYo. That’s it,”.

You took a deep breath, and after a moment's hesitation, you finally gave in. “Okay, let’s get FroYo, boyfriend,” you said with a smile, the words slipping out more easily than you expected.

Joe’s eyes sparkled, clearly pleased with your answer. “That’s the spirit, lovebug,” he said, his fingers giving yours a gentle squeeze as he started to lead you down the street.

An hour later

“So, you really think aliens are real,” you asked, giggling as you took another bite of your frozen yogurt, a big spoonful of strawberry heading for your mouth.

“1000%,” Joe replied, his eyes lighting up like a kid talking about his favorite superhero. He gestured with his spoon for emphasis, his passion infectious. “There is no way we’re the only intelligent life in the universe. I refuse to believe it. Aliens are just too advanced to accidentally expose themselves. We probably won’t see them for a while, but they’re out there—plotting or chilling or something,”.

You smiled, leaning in as if his theories were some secret you weren’t supposed to overhear. You couldn’t help but drink in every word he said, everything he thought, his voice weaving a web of curiosity that had you completely hooked. His confidence, his animated gestures—it was all intoxicating. You’d been high off his energy all evening, but his jokes, sharp and perfectly timed, left you completely lightheaded.

Every time he made a goofy comment or cracked a grin, it felt like another spark ignited between you two, and you were soaking it up like a sponge. You didn’t even care how ridiculous the alien talk might sound to someone else. For you, it was gold—pure, unfiltered Joe. And honestly, you wanted more of it.

“Fair point,” you said, laughing again at his adorable rambling. That, combined with the way he looked at you—like you were the most interesting person in the world—had you feeling like you were living in a scene straight out of a teenage rom-com. “Maybe you’re an alien,” you teased, raising an eyebrow at him. “I mean, I can’t think of any other guy on campus who would randomly help a stranger in the library like you did,”.

Joe grinned at you, that devastatingly charming smile making your heart skip a beat. “Maybe I am,” he said with a playful shrug. “I guess we’ll never know,”. You laughed again for maybe the 50th time in the past hour, shaking your head at his playful banter with you. Why was he making you so giggly? You had never laughed like this around a guy since high school. “What was all that about anyway?” he asked, leaning forward slightly, as if your answer genuinely mattered to him.

“I was writing an essay about metaphysics,” you explained, twirling your spoon absentmindedly, trying to sound casual despite the buzz of excitement from just sitting across from him. “I got so caught up in it that I completely forgot I was supposed to help my friend get ready for her date with this random guy she met at Fred’s,”.

Joe paused mid-bite, his lips curving into a teasing grin as he raised an eyebrow. “Fred’s? Tigerland Fred’s? The sticky-floor, karaoke-at-2AM Fred’s?”.

“Yup, that one. Where dreams come true—or so she claims,” you said with a laugh, recalling your friend’s drunken rambling about her so-called future boyfriend.

“Dreams or regrets?” Joe shot back, leaning back in his chair with an amused smirk.

“Depends on the night,” you quipped, a playful smile dancing on your lips. “But hey, my friend swears this guy’s the real deal. Apparently, they bonded over an argument about the best Super Bowl halftime show. Beyonce and Katy Perry were the options,”.

Joe’s laugh was as rich as gold, the kind of laugh that made your heart race a little faster. “Classic Fred’s. Nothing says ‘soulmates’ like debating pop queens over a background of spilled beer, drunk as fuck college kids, and bad karaoke,”.

“Right?” you said, giggling. “It’s practically a modern fairytale. Although, personally, I wouldn’t trust any guy from Fred’s unless I saw them leave the bathroom and actually wash their hands,”.

Joe placed a hand on his chest, pretending to be shocked. “Wow, way to lump us all together. Not all Fred’s patrons are degenerates, thank you very much. I always wash my hands. But I’ll admit—Fred’s bathrooms? Definitely a life experience,”.

“Oh, so you’re saying you’re one of the ‘good ones,’ huh?” you teased, tilting your head as you studied him with mock skepticism.

He smirked, leaning forward just slightly, enough to make your pulse quicken. “I’m saying you can trust me,” he replied, his voice dipping into something softer, flirtier. “Fred’s alum and all,”.

You narrowed your eyes playfully. “Hmm, that’s a big claim, Joe. Trust is earned, not handed out like FroYo spoons,”.

“Fair enough,” he said, his grin widening. He leaned back again, that easy confidence of his radiating off him—that same confidence you’d see during football games. “Tell you what: I’ll prove it to you,”.

“Oh, yeah?” you challenged, raising an eyebrow. “And how exactly do you plan to do that?”.

He tapped his chin, pretending to think. “Well, for starters, I’ll make sure you get home safe. And I’ll keep your FroYo topped off if you run out. Bonus points if I don’t spill any on myself,”.

You bit your lip to keep from smiling too wide. “Bold strategy. But you’re still on thin ice, Quarterback. What else you got?”.

Joe leaned in again, his body language and tone of voice so clearly meant to tease you. He knew exactly what he was doing. “How about this, I won’t just make tonight fun—I’ll make our next date even better,”.

Oh my god.

You felt like screaming—in a good way. He was serious about this being a date. A real date. It was almost impossible to believe, especially given your less-than-stellar luck in the college dating pool. Most guys you met only seemed interested in hooking up or aiming for a casual friends-with-benefits situation. But Joe? He wasn’t giving off those vibes at all, which, frankly, was surprising considering he was a football player. Joe felt different. The way he was treating you, so effortlessly charming yet undeniably genuine, had you feeling giddy, silly, and shy all at once—like you were 16 again, living out a teenage fantasy of dating the star quarterback. But the truth was, Joe being a football player was the least interesting thing about him.

It was the little things—the way his nerdy side blazed through when he got excited about something, his genuine charm that felt so real, and his easy, down-to-earth demeanor. He wasn’t trying to impress you with his status or his accomplishments. He was just Joe, and that set him apart from everyone else. Your cheeks burned from the feeling that was encompassing you, and you couldn’t stop the grin from spreading across your face which he noticed. “Next date? You’re already planning ahead, huh? I don’t even remember saying that this,” you said, gesturing to the distance between you two, “This was a date,” you finished.

Joe’s lips curved into a slow, confident smile, and he leaned in slightly, resting his forearms on the table. “Oh, come on,” he drawled. “You’re eating FroYo with me, laughing at my terrible jokes, and letting me ramble on about aliens. If this isn’t a date, then I don’t know what is,”.

You bit back a grin, crossing your arms in mock defiance. “Maybe I’m just humoring you,” you said, raising your chin. “Ever think about that, Mr. Quarterback?”.

“Humoring me? Nah,” he said confidently. “You’re way too into this for it to be just that. Admit it, you’re having fun, lovebug,”.

You rolled your eyes, but the blush creeping up your cheeks because of that damn nickname probably betrayed you. “Okay, maybe I’m having a little fun,” you conceded, holding your fingers an inch apart for emphasis.

“See? I knew it,” he said triumphantly. “And for the record, I’ve already decided. This is definitely a date. A pretty damn good one, if I say so myself,”.

“Oh, you’ve decided, huh?” you replied, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Yup,” he said, popping the ‘p’ as he leaned forward again, his gaze locking with yours. “But if you need a little more convincing, how about we go ahead and plan that next date? Something tells me you won’t be able to resist saying yes,”.

“Your confidence never wavers, does it?”.

“Duh,” he said, his blue eyes sparkling as they locked onto yours. “I don’t play for just one quarter, Y/N. I’m in it for the full game,”.

You rolled your eyes, but your heart was racing at a mile a second. “Alright, Mr. Quarterback. Let’s see if you can back all this talk up,”.

“Oh, I will,” he said with a wink, his confidence so intoxicating it made you feel like you were just like one of those drunk as fuck college kids at Fred’s. “You just keep eating your FroYo and let me handle the rest,”.

“Deal,” you replied, keeping your tone casual even as your stomach flipped like it was auditioning for the Olympics. Your mind was racing, spiraling over every glance, every word exchanged. You were hyper-aware of the way Joe had been looking at you, his gaze steady and warm, as though he was studying every detail of your face during this not-a-date-but-definitely-a-date FroYo outing.

Meanwhile, Joe was quietly letting out a breath of relief, grateful that you seemed just as interested as he was. He had been silently praying you’d be open to more of this—more of him. He knew it was early, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something special about you. From the moment he’d seen you in the library, flustered but determined, he was drawn in. “You’re interested,” he thought to himself, letting the reassurance wash over him. And why wouldn’t he be hoping? You weren’t like anyone else he’d met.

To Joe, this date—or whatever it was—was unlike any he’d ever been on. It wasn’t forced, and it didn’t feel like a chore to impress you. You were genuine, effortlessly funny, and you weren’t trying to win the title of ‘QB1’s girlfriend’. He’d been on plenty of dates with girls who only cared about the status, who weren’t interested in him beyond the jersey. But with you, it felt different. You made him feel like just Joe, the guy who geeked out about aliens and enjoyed frozen yogurt dates.

And that was all he wanted—a connection that felt real.

So, when you smiled softly at him after your ‘deal’ and took another bite of your FroYo, he couldn’t help but grin to himself. This was already more than he had hoped for, and he couldn’t wait to see what came next.

“Anyways, back to my friend…she was totally fine,” you said with a shrug, the memory making you smirk. “I told her why I was skipping out on helping her, and let’s just say she was more than happy to get ready on her own, considering the reason I bailed,”.

“Glad I wasn’t a point of conflict in her love story,” he said sarcastically.

“Oh, no. She’s on team Joe already,” you teased, taking a deliberate bite of your FroYo as you watched him with a smirk.

“Well, that’s a relief,” he said with a half-laugh, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the edge of his cup. Then, with a curious tilt of his head, he asked, “So, your essay…Metaphysics, right? That’s…?”.

“Aristotle,” you answered smoothly, catching the flicker of recognition on his face.

“Right,” he said, nodding like a student trying to piece together notes from a lecture he half-remembered. “Philosophy class,”.

“Mhm. I’m a sucker for anything psychology, sociology, or philosophy related,” you admitted, your tone light but laced with genuine enthusiasm.

“Nerdy...Good to know,” he teased, a playful smirk lighting up his gorgeous face. You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the smile creeping onto your lips. “Says the guy who’s spent half this date convincing me aliens are real,”.

“...Touché,” Joe replied, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “But nerdy or not, I think our second date should be at the art and science museum. They’ve got a pretty sick space exhibit right now—and I hear their psychology section is impressive, too. I’m sure you’d love it,”.

You couldn't help but feel your heart flutter at the thought of spending more time with Joe. The idea of a second date felt…so right, in fact, that you couldn't help but blurt out, “Okay, how about Saturday night?”.

Joe leaned back in his seat, his hands resting casually on the table as his eyes flickered with a playful challenge. “Saturday, huh?” he raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “You want it that bad?”.

“Woah, play it cool, Y/N. This is still Joe Burrow—Joe freaking Burrow. The star quarterback, the guy every girl on campus talks about with that smirk and look in their eyes. Don’t get your hopes up; just be normal,” you told yourself, trying to rein in the butterflies taking flight in your chest. “This might not even go anywhere,” you realized, forcing your overexcited heart to settle. Your mind scrambled for a response, desperate to dilute the intensity of your emotions before they spilled over. You then shrugged nonchalantly, trying to keep your cool even though your stomach was dancing with overexcitement. “Well, you did say you wanted to do this again,” you replied, “I thought I’d get the ball rolling,”.

“I did, didn’t I?” his eyes held yours for a beat longer than usual, and you could feel the shift, the chemistry swirling between the two of you like electricity in the air.

Then, with a sigh, Joe ran a hand through his hair, clearly thinking it through. “Saturday’s not gonna work for me, though,” he said, a slight frown appearing on his face. “Quarterback duties and all—big game that night.” He paused, his eyes searching yours, before adding, “But hey, I’ve got a plan,”.

Your brow furrowed with a hint of disappointment, but you didn’t show it. You waited for him to continue, your curiosity piqued. He looked at you, that signature smirk returning, “You could come to the game. I can snag you a ticket and I’ll get one for your friend too if you guys wanna sit front row on our side of the stands?”.

You were speechless for a moment, your heart pounding so loudly you swore he could hear it. He was serious. Joe Burrow, the quarterback of the LSU Tigers, wanted you to come to his game—wanted you to be there, front and center, watching him in action. It was something straight out of a fantasy, the kind of moment you’d only ever seen in movies or read about in romance novels.

Your mind raced as you processed it. He’s inviting me to his game. Me. Not one of the picture-perfect girls you thought flocked to him at parties or tried to cozy up for clout, but you. And Joe wasn’t just the quarterback—he was the quarterback. Hot and sexy in a way that almost felt unfair, with that chiseled jawline, broad shoulders, and that effortlessly tousled dirty blonde hair. And yet, he was so much more than just his looks. He was kind, attentive, and so…Joe.

Despite his talent and fame, he didn’t carry himself with the vanity you’d seen in so many other athletes. He was normal, in the most unique way—someone who could make you laugh over FroYo one second and leave you breathless with a smirk the next. You’d never thought a guy like Joe could exist outside of daydreams, let alone show interest in you.

You could feel your cheeks blush as your gaze shifted back to him. The thought of sitting in Tiger Stadium, watching him play, hearing the crowd roar as he led his team to victory—it suddenly meant so much more. You weren’t going to the game for LSU or the love of football. You were going for Joe, and that realization sent a thrill down your spine.

A tiny, excited laugh escaped you before you could stop it. He was making everything feel so airy, so surreal that it was like you were in a daze. Your pulse quickened, but you kept your voice steady, trying to sound casual as your mind wandered to the game.

You weren’t someone who went to football games often. Sure, you’d catch a game here or there on TV, mostly for the atmosphere and social chatter, but actually going to Tiger Stadium, sitting in the crowd, surrounded by thousands of roaring fans? That wasn’t really your scene. It always felt overwhelming, like you were just a small piece in a sea of chaos. But for Joe? For Joe, it didn’t feel chaotic—it felt meaningful.

You’d heard the stories about him—how good he was, how he was the star of the team, how he carried the entire state of Louisiana on his shoulders game after game. Even if you weren’t a die-hard fan, you couldn’t help but admire someone so dedicated, so talented. Seeing him on the field, doing what he was so clearly meant to do, was starting to feel like an opportunity you didn’t want to miss.

But what really struck you was that this wasn’t just about football for him. He wanted you there. Not as just another face in the crowd, but as someone he…cared about. And that meant everything. The idea of sitting in the stands, knowing he’d glance over and see you cheering for him, made your chest tighten with a strange mix of nerves and excitement.

“I’ve never really gone to the games in person,” you admitted, your voice softer now, a little more vulnerable. “But I think for you, I could make an exception,”.

Joe’s grin widened, and you saw the flicker of relief in his eyes, like he’d been holding his breath waiting for your answer. “Good,” he said, the warmth in his voice showing his sincerity. “Because I want you there,”.

He wanted you there. Not just for the game, but for him. And as much as the idea of sitting in a packed stadium might have made you hesitant before, now it felt different. “Sounds perfect. I would love to see you in action up close, Mr. Quarterback. Gotta really make sure you know how to ball and that it’s not all talk,” you teased, a playful grin tugging at your lips.

His grin widened and those adorable crinkles returned around his eyes, “Oh, it’s definitely not just talk,” he shot back with a wink. “But yeah, we’ll do the museum on Sunday. We’ll make it a weekend full of firsts. Your first time watching me play up close, and then our first visit together to the museum,”.

“Can’t wait,” you said softly, a genuine smile tugging at your lips as you met his gaze. His baby blues seemed to hold a profundity you hadn’t expected, a softness that made your heart skip a beat. There was something unspoken in the way he looked at you—something equal parts thrilling and comforting, and you wanted to know what it was so bad.

This was real, he was real, and this—whatever it was—felt like it was going somewhere exciting. You didn’t know where it would lead, but you were more than ready to find out.

Saturday Night – Tiger Stadium

“Holy shit, that was a dime!” you screamed, jumping up and down as adrenaline surged through your body. Your voice was barely audible over the deafening roar of Tiger Stadium, but you didn’t care. You grabbed your friend Kyra by the arm, pulling her into your whirlwind of excitement as Joe threw his third touchdown pass of the game, the ball landing perfectly in the receiver's hands like it had been placed there by magic.

“He’s too damn good,” Kyra laughed, her eyes wide with disbelief as she watched Joe and his offense celebrate in the end zone. The energy in the stadium was electric, every cheer and chant echoing through your chest as the clock winded down to zero. Nothing could ever match the energy and electricity in Death Valley whenever Joe Burrow stepped on the field, and you were finally getting a taste of what that actually felt like.

You couldn’t take your eyes off Joe. He moved across the field with such confidence, his composure unbreakable even in the chaos. Every play was deliberate, every throw accurate, and every moment he spent commanding the field had you mesmerized.

For you, the moment felt like it belonged to Joe—and, in some inexplicable way, to you, too. Watching him tear it up on the field with such precision and swagger was intoxicating. You’d been screaming and cheering so much that your voice was already scratchy, but you didn’t care. This moment wasn’t about you; it was about him.

“I mean, is he even human?” Kyra teased, nudging you as she caught you staring.

You rolled your eyes, but your heart was racing from the dopamine boost you were getting. “What can I say? The man knows how to put on a show,” you replied, but inside you were giddy, completely smitten by the way he carried himself. It wasn’t just his talent or his looks, though, let’s face it, those weren’t exactly drawbacks. It was the way he made this larger-than-life moment feel personal, like you were watching him play just for you.

A personal show. Just for you.

After dapping up Justin, Joe glanced toward the stands, and for a brief moment, you swore his eyes landed on you…which was his goal. He was looking for you. Looking for the one girl he was trying to impress amongst the thousand that were screaming his name.

Your breath hitched, the connection between you so brief yet so undeniable that it left you feeling lightheaded. Kyra smirked, clearly noticing. “I seriously can’t believe you’re dating Joe freaking Burrow,” she said, poking you with her elbow.

“Woah, slow down. We’ve been on one date, and we’re not even official,” you replied, though the blush creeping up your cheeks betrayed you.

“Mhm, sure. So, have you picked a wedding date yet? You know, I’d like to save the date early,” she teased with a sly grin.

You groaned, swatting at her arm. “Shut up, Kyra,” you said, but you couldn’t help the smile that crept onto your face at the thought of being married to a man like him—someone so…perfect and dreamy.

“Hey, I’m just saying, you’ve got a front-row seat to the hottest quarterback in college football, and I’d like to thank you for dragging me along to this magical little love story,” she joked with a dramatic wave of her hand. “You two already talk baby names, yet? Seriously, you’d make the cutest kids…just saying,” she wiggled her eyebrows dramatically as she continued with the silly teases that she knew were making you giggly inside.

You tried to hide your smile, shaking your head at her irritating yet slightly amusing antics, but your laughter caught in your throat when she suddenly froze. “Uhh, he’s walking over here,” she whispered, eyes wide as she looked back and forth.

“What?” you spun around so fast your head nearly whipped off. There he was—Joe, helmet in hand, his grin so wide it could light up the entire stadium. He jogged toward the barricade, his golden brown hair a little messy from the game, and his eyes locked on yours like nothing else in the world mattered.

“Oh my god, he’s coming to you,” Kyra whispered, squeezing your arm before quickly excusing herself. “I’ll, uh, go to the bathroom…Mrs. Quarterback,” she added with a wink before darting away.

Your heart felt like it was about to leap out of your chest as Joe came to a stop right in front of you, his helmet tucked under one arm, his other hand running through his slightly damp hair. His cheeks were flushed, a faint pink that shimmered under the twinkling stadium lights, and his boyish grin made your knees feel like jelly. You couldn’t believe how effortlessly handsome he looked, even after four quarters of football. “Did you have fun?” he asked, slightly out of breath.

“Are you kidding me?” you said, leaning forward over the barricade, your excitement spilling out before you could stop it. “That was the most fun I’ve ever had at a game. You were…incredible, Joe. I mean, you killed it out there,”. The words rushed out, your voice still buzzing with adrenaline, and your cheeks burned when you realized how starry-eyed you probably sounded.

His grin grew wider, his crinkling eyes softening in a way that made your heart skip a beat. “Thank you,” he said, his tone gentler now, almost intimate, as his gaze swept over you. “And by the way…you look really pretty tonight. That LSU purple and that ‘9’ look amazing on you, lovebug,”.

Your breath hitched for a second, and you felt a shy warmth creep up your neck as his words sank in. Lovebug. That damn nickname sounded so sweet and natural coming from him, like it belonged to you all along. You looked down at the jersey you’d worn just for him, suddenly hyper-aware of how much effort you’d put into looking good tonight. “I’m glad you like it,” you murmured, biting your lip as you met his gaze again. “I think I could get used to this…purple might just be my new favorite color,” you teased, giving him a flirty smile.

“Well, you should wear it more often,” he said, leaning just a little closer over the railing. “You look absolutely gorgeous in purple, so I’m definitely not complaining,”.

Your heart was doing somersaults. Literal Olympic gold medal-winning somersaults because of the way he was looking at you…talking to you. Oh, you were so down bad already. “Thanks, Joey,” you said softly, trying to calm yourself by pulling your eyes from his.

He noticed your eyes drifting away from him for just a moment, and he wasn’t having it. His hand, warm and calloused from the game, moved up from his hip with purpose. Before you could process what was happening, he cupped your cheek gently but firmly, his thumb brushing against your skin in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. “Hey,” he murmured. He tilted your face back toward his, his eyes locking with yours, baby blue and burning under the glow of the stadium lights. “Keep looking at me,”.

The way he said it—steady, certain, yet laced with something vulnerable—made your breath hitch. You nodded slightly, completely under his spell as your eyes met his again. There was something about the way he looked at you, like you were the only thing that mattered in this electrifying moment. It was all about him, they were all chanting his name, but here he was with you. You couldn’t help but think how surreal this all felt, like you’d been transported back to high school, standing by the bleachers with your dreamy crush. He made you feel bittersweet 16 all over again, that lovely mix of nerves and excitement bubbling in your chest.

“I like seeing your eyes on me,” he admitted, his thumb brushing just under your cheekbone now, his touch so tender. “It’s distracting, sure, but in the best way. Makes me feel like I did something right tonight,”.

“Joe,” you whispered, his name leaving your lips like a prayer. “You just threw for three touchdowns. Pretty sure you did everything right tonight,”.

He playfully rolled his eyes as his hand didn’t move from your face. “Yeah, but those touchdowns were for everyone else,” he said, the weight of his words hanging in the air. “This right here? This is just for me,”.

You reached up, your fingers brushing against the wrist of the hand that held your face, grounding yourself in him. “You’re making it really hard to think straight,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. You didn’t know why you were saying that, but for some reason it felt so right.

His grin widened, playful and smug, but his eyes stayed soft, still scanning your face like he couldn’t get enough. “Good,” he said simply. “Because you’re all I’ve been thinking about since the moment I saw you,”.

You opened your lips to say something back, not sure exactly what you would say to that, but before you could he pulled his hand away from your cheek and spoke up again. He rubbed the back of his neck. “So,” he said, “I’ll be wrapped up here in about 30 minutes. If you’re free…maybe we could grab something to eat after?”.

The way he asked—so casually and confidently—made your heart melt. He wasn’t just the star quarterback right now; he was just a guy, standing in front of a girl…his girl, hoping she’d say yes.

“I’d love to,” you replied without hesitation, not a hint of uncertainty in your voice. You leaned down impulsively, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. His skin was warm beneath your lips, and when you pulled back, his eyes were wide with surprise, his cheeks blushing even deeper under the lights.

“...You’re making it really hard to focus on football right now, lovebug,” he murmured, his voice teasing you on purpose, but his smile showed how smitten he was.

You laughed, your own cheeks blushing as you playfully brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. “Well, you better focus because I’m holding you to that dinner,” you shot back, trying to match his playful tone but failing miserably as your voice came out all breathy and soft.

Joe’s gaze lingered on you for a moment longer like he physically did not want to look away from, you, and his smile turned into something more tender. “Don’t worry,” he said, his voice dipping just enough to send a shiver down your spine, “I’ll be there. Just don’t disappear on me, okay?”.

As he jogged back to his team, his steps confident yet light, you couldn’t stop watching him. Every muscle moved with a grace that was almost unfair, and your heart swelled knowing that all of this—the smiles, the teasing, the kiss—was just for you. Tonight wasn’t just a game. Tonight, it felt like a dream. And the best part? Joe Burrow, the star quarterback, wasn’t just part of that dream—he was the dream.

—

Half an hour later, you met Joe outside the stadium. The night air was cool, the buzz of the game still lingering in the distance as fans trickled out from the staidum. Joe stood beside a sleek black car, his bag tucked under one arm and that same lovesick smile lighting up his face. He moved toward you with purpose, opening the car door before you could even reach for it.

“Getting my car door? Isn’t that sweet?” you thought to yourself, feeling a twinge of surprise at how much the small gesture made your heart flutter.

“Your chariot awaits,” he teased softly, his free hand brushing lightly against the small of your back as he guided you in.

“Thank you,” you said, glancing up at him with a shy smile as you slid into the leather seat.

Joe climbed in beside you, shutting the door behind him with a quiet click. He quickly reached forward and pressed a button, and you watched as a tinted partition slowly rose, cutting the two of you off from the driver. You raised an eyebrow, about to ask why, but the words disappeared when he turned toward you.

His arm was around your waist in an instant, his touch carrying something that you hadn’t felt in a very long time, as he pulled you closer. Your knees bumped against his, and his other hand came up to cradle your cheek, his thumb brushing your skin so softly it sent a shiver down your spine. “I’ve been thinking about this all week,” he murmured, his breath warm against your lips.

Before you could respond, his lips were on yours. Soft but so deliberate, the kiss was everything at once—sweet, needy, electrifying. You felt like the air had been stolen from your lungs, your pulse pounding so hard you thought he might feel it through your skin.

“No one’s ever had me like this,” you thought as you froze for a moment, overwhelmed by the intensity of it all. You’d only known him for a few short days, but something about him made you want to forget about everything, forget that this was still new, to let your hair free in the wind and go with your heart and not your mind.

But then you relaxed, leaning into him as his hand slid up your back, pulling you even closer. Your own hand found its way to the back of his head, your fingers threading through his slightly damp hair as you kissed him back.

His lips moved with a confidence that made your stomach flip, his tongue brushing against yours, igniting sparks that coursed through your entire body. You weren’t sure if it was the adrenaline leftover from the game or just the way he made you feel, but you were dizzy with it.

When his lips left yours and trailed down your neck, you couldn’t stop the quiet gasp that escaped you. His name slipped from your lips like a whispered prayer, “Joe…,”.

His breath was uneven as he finally pulled back, his forehead resting against yours as you both caught your breath. His swollen lips now coated with some of your cherry red lipgloss as you couldn’t help but stare at him, enchanted by the boyish charm that seemed to be the complete opposite of the intensity he carried.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he huffed, like he was still catching his breath. Like you took his breath away.

Your fingers stayed in his hair, your other hand resting lightly against his chest where you could feel the steady thud of his heartbeat. “Well, I’m glad you finally did,” you whispered as your heart swelled.

His lips curved into a smile that made your knees weak all over again, the kind of smile that sent a thrill straight down your spine. “Yeah?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you replied, barely above a whisper, leaning in again as if you were drawn by some magnetic force you couldn’t fight even if you wanted to. This kiss wasn’t soft anymore, not that it ever was. It started slow, like a fuse being lit, but it didn’t take long for the fire to burn hotter, fiercer. His hand found your waist again, pulling you against him, and you couldn’t hide the shiver that ran through you as his lips claimed yours with a confidence that made your head spin. “You taste so damn good, you know that?” he mumbled in between the kiss.

“Good enough to come back for seconds?” you questioned as you pulled away from him, your doe eyes making his knees weak.

He tightened his grip on your waist and brought his lips back to yours. “Oh, I’m not stopping at seconds, lovebug,”. His kisses trailed from your mouth to your jaw, and then to the sensitive spot just below your ear, his lips and tongue leaving a heated path of want. You couldn’t help the soft gasp that escaped you as his teeth grazed your skin, his chuckle vibrating against your neck.

“Joe,” you breathed, your voice barely audible, laced with need.

“I know,” he murmured, his voice rough as he buried his face in the crook of your neck for a moment, like he was trying to ground himself. When he finally pulled back, his eyes were darker, his gaze flickering over your pretty face and pinker than ever cheeks. The car hit a soft bump, and it snapped you back to reality for a moment. You couldn’t help but laugh softly, your hand brushing his jaw as your eyes fell back to his lips. “This car ride’s about to feel a whole lot longer,”.

Joe smirked, his lips brushing against yours once more, teasing you but not committing to another kiss just yet. “Patience, lovebug. We’ve got all night,”.

And as the car continued its journey, you couldn’t help but think again, “Getting my car door? Then pulling me to the backseat so easily? And kissing me in a way that’s definitely going to screw me up forever? Oh, what did I get myself into,”.

This was either the worst thing you could’ve ever done…or the best. It was brand new, but you were going full throttle. And for some reason, even though there were so many unanswered questions and untouched feelings…it felt so right to be here…like this.

With him.

Joe Burrow wasn’t just good at football—he was good at absolutely everything, especially at making you feel like the most desired, cherished, and irresistible girl in the world despite knowing him for such a short amount of time.

No one’s ever had you, not like him.

There was something special about Joe.

End of flashback

“Oh my god, that was the most embarrassing moment of my life,” you laughed along with your cousins, your cheeks burning from both the memory and the silliness of retelling it.

Joe chuckled softly beside you, “Embarrassing? Maybe. But it was also the best. Without that moment in the library and that night at the game, we wouldn’t be here,” he said, taking your hand and bringing it to his lips again for another soft kiss.

You smiled at the tenderness in his gesture, but couldn’t resist teasing him. “Who would’ve thought, huh? I seriously thought you’d forget all about me once you got drafted to the Bengals,” you said, raising an eyebrow at him, but there was a hint of genuine vulnerability in your tone.

Joe looked at you, his expression softening as if he could read every hidden fear you ever had. “Forget you?” he repeated, shaking his head slightly before his hand slid over to your thigh, giving it a firm yet reassuring squeeze. “Ditch you for what? I’ve got everything I’ve ever wanted—and everything I’ll ever need—right here,”.

Flashback to Draft Night - Athens, Ohio

The air was thick with anticipation, and you could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on both of you. It was Draft Night—the night that would change Joe's life, and yours, forever. The tension in the room was electric, but in Joe's eyes, there was a calm certainty. He already knew. He knew he was going to be the first overall pick, and he knew, without a doubt, that Cincinnati was in his future. Earlier that year, before graduation, Joe had turned to you with a rare, serious glint in his eye. He'd told you, with all the confidence in the world, that wherever he ended up, he wanted you there beside him. At the time, you thought he was just joking—playing around with a future you hadn’t fully imagined yet. But now, watching him on the verge of living out his dream, you realized just how serious he'd been.

The realization hit you harder than you expected. This wasn’t some playful promise—it was a commitment. And here, on the edge of this life-changing moment, you felt it for real.

Flashback to Graduation – LSU

After the ceremony ended, the world seemed to slow down for you and Joe. You had just walked across the stage, caps thrown in the air, hands shaking from the excitement and adrenaline. The weight of the future was looming, but there was something undeniably exciting about the unknown ahead. Joe decided to take you back to the FroYo place, the spot where everything had started between the two of you. It felt fitting, like it was full circle. This was where you had your first “unofficial official” date, and now, it seemed, everything was about to change in the blink of a crinkling eye.

As you both sat down at the same table you had sat at countless times before, the hum of the FroYo machines and the buzz of conversations around you seemed so distant. You were already digging into your frozen treat, trying to make light of the moment. But you could tell, something was on Joe’s mind. His usual confident demeanor had slipped into something more uncertain, more vulnerable.

He took a deep breath, setting his cup down beside him. His fingers twitched on the edge of his own spoon before he finally spoke, his voice quiet but shaky. “I want to talk to you about something,”.

Immediately, you stopped eating, sensing the shift in his energy. You put your cup down and reached across the table, taking his hand in yours, rubbing your thumb over his skin as a silent reassurance. “What’s up?” you asked softly.

Joe looked at you, his eyes filled with more emotion than you had ever seen. “We just graduated,”.

“That we did,” you chuckled, trying to keep things light, but there was a heaviness in your chest that you couldn’t ignore.

“And I declared for the draft,” he added, his words almost shaky. The weight of that statement hung in the air, and you felt your smile falter. “That you did,” you replied, voice a little quieter now, the realization settling in.

Joe rubbed the back of his neck, clearly struggling to find the right words. He was never one to shy away from a challenge, but this was different. This was his future—and, as you could sense, he wanted it to include you. Without another moment of hesitation, he squeezed your hand. “Come with me.”

“Come with you where?” you giggled nervously, unsure of where this was heading.

“Wherever I end up,” Joe said, his voice steady but laced with urgency. “Whichever team drafts me. Come with me. Be with me,”.

Your stomach twisted in knots, and your breath caught in your throat. Was he really asking you this? The future, before so uncertain, suddenly felt incredibly clear—and scary. You had known this day would come—the moment when he would have to leave Louisiana, leave everything behind—but you never really thought about what it would mean for you two. The thought of a breakup, the thought of being left behind, had loomed over you in the back of your mind like a shadow, but now, hearing him speak, you realize that wasn’t his plan at all. He wanted you.

You swallowed, your voice barely above a whisper. “Really?”.

“Really. It’s true, I swear. Scout’s honor,” Joe said with fierce sincerity, squeezing your hand tighter. “I need you with me. I love you so much, and the thought of us being apart is…bullshit. I can’t do this without you, Y/N. I won’t,”

You sat there in stunned silence for a few seconds, trying to process everything. It was so much to take in; the gravity of the situation, the promise in his words. You had been dreaming of a future with him, but this...this was more than just a dream. This was real. You’d be moving with him, wherever he went. You’d be starting this new chapter, side by side, facing everything together. It wasn’t just about football or school anymore. It was about life—your life, together.

You thought about everything—finding a job in whatever city you’d end up in, living together, moving at a new pace, navigating the unknowns that lay ahead. And for the first time, it didn’t seem so scary. It didn’t seem scary because even in the whirlwind of it all, one thing stuck out.

You’d be with him.

You shifted your gaze to meet his again, locking eyes with the man who, in that moment, had just offered you everything you’d ever dreamed of, everything you never thought possible. His eyes were filled with such intensity, so much hope, and so much love that it made your heart race, each beat echoing in your chest like a drum. You couldn’t help but smile, a soft, tender expression that was just for him. “Okay,” you whispered, your voice full of warmth and certainty. “I’ll go with you,”.

His breath caught in his throat, a moment of disbelief flashing across his face. “Seriously?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he couldn’t quite believe you were really saying it.

You nodded, feeling your heart swell with an overwhelming affection that seemed to fill every inch of your being after saying it out loud. “I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life,” you replied. Each word carried the weight of everything you felt for him and the future you were about to step into together.

As he stared back at you with those ocean blue eyes, filled with promise and a love so deep it seemed to consume you both, you knew that this was just the beginning.

Flashforward back to Draft Night

“Are you excited?” you ask as you sit next to Joe on the couch. The draft night had taken on a different feel this year, virtual for the most part because of COVID-19, but the electricity between you both was undeniable. It didn’t matter that you weren’t at the event in person. What mattered was that you were together, and the future ahead of you both felt like an open road waiting to be explored.

“Excited, nervous, and a bit scared,” he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck, his eyes darting to the screen as the pre-program was starting up. You can see the nervous energy in him, that usual cool demeanor slightly cracked, but the way he leans into you and makes sure your legs are touching shows he’s not as worried as he’s letting on.

Joe leans back, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your arm as he speaks again, his voice quieter now, more contemplative. “You know, it’s hard to put into words how much this means. Getting drafted into the NFL...it’s surreal. But it feels like I’m coming home,”. His eyes meet yours, and there’s a weight to his words, something deeper than just football.

“Home?” you ask, your brow furrowing slightly, even though you know exactly what he means.

“Yeah,” he nods, leaning in just a little closer, his breath warm against your skin. “Cincinnati...Ohio…it’s my home state. There’s also this unfinished business from Ohio State you know, I didn’t get to finish what I started there, but now? Now it feels like I have the chance to go back, make it right,”.

You smile softly, understanding the quiet fire and drive behind his words. You knew how much he’d poured into every moment of his career so far, how his passion for the game ran deeper than anything else. “You’re going to crush it, Joe. This is your chance to rewrite everything. It's not just a new chapter, it's a whole new book,”.

He grins, pulling you closer again, his hands resting on your waist. “It doesn’t feel like just a career move. It feels like a homecoming. A chance to really show people what I’m capable of—what I can do when I’m finally in the right place. And the fact that you're coming with me, that I get to do this with you by my side, makes it feel even more right,”.

The way he looks at you, full of determination and love, makes your heart swell. You knew he was destined for greatness, but hearing it from him, feeling the importance of his hopes and dreams in his words, makes everything feel so real. “We’re in this together,” you remind him, your voice full of certainty. “And you’re going to make them all see exactly why you belong there. Why you’ve always belonged there,”.

He chuckles, pulling you close for a quick kiss, "Thanks for believing in me, lovebug. I think I finally feel like I’m where I’m supposed to be. And that means everything,".

“Sounds about right, Superstar. Your life’s about to change,” you tease, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek as you settle back in next to him.

“Our life,” he corrects, his voice a little more serious now, a touch of possessiveness in it that makes your heart flutter.

Butterflies start to flutter in your belly. “Right, our life,” you repeat, smiling up at him. It wasn’t just about the draft, it was never just about the draft. It was about everything that came after. The life you’d be building, side by side.

“Did you hear back from the job you applied to in Cincy?” he asks, his gaze now fixed solely on you. “Not yet. Should be hearing back tomorrow. Buttt, I talked to one of my connections there, and they said to be expecting a positive answer,” you beam, your excitement unmistakable. There was a certain joy you couldn’t contain knowing you were taking this leap with him—both of you starting a new journey in your careers.

“That’s amazing, Y/N. I’m so proud of you,” he says, pulling you close, his arms tightening around you. His hug feels safe and warm, like everything in the world is aligned and you are right where you need to be.

You laugh softly as his arms envelop you, “I can’t wait for this, Joe,” you murmur into his chest, your voice full of that sweet anticipation that both of you are holding onto right now.

“Me either. It’s starting to feel real. Like real real,” he admits, his tone laced with childish wonder, as if it’s finally sinking in that your lives are about to change—together.

“Oh, it’ll feel even realer when we go house hunting in Cincy on Sunday,” you tease, your lips curling into a playful smile as you pull away from his embrace slightly. You can’t help but feel giddy about it all.

Joe rolls his eyes dramatically but then smiles. “Mm, I can’t wait for that fun experience,” he mutters, giving you a mischievous look as if he knows what’s coming. “You better not pick the ugliest place out there,”.

“Oh, you know I have impeccable taste, Joey,” you reply, raising an eyebrow, a flirtatious challenge in your tone. “I’m thinking something with space for a huge bed. You know, somewhere with plenty of room for...you know, us,”.

His eyes flicker with something deeper now, a kind of heat that makes you both pause, the air between you thickening. “A big bed, huh?” he says, the suggestiveness in his voice making your skin burn. “I can’t wait to keep you in bed all day, every day. You think I’ll be able to get any work done? Or are you going to have me distracted in other ways?”

You laugh softly, your cheeks flushing at the thought of having all the time, privacy, and space to do whatever the hell you wanted with each other. “You’re incorrigible,” you say, biting your lip as you look into his eyes, both of you sharing a knowing look.

Joe’s smirk deepens as he pulls you closer, his lips brushing against your ear with a teasing whisper that sends a shiver down your spine. “Seriously, though,” he murmurs, “I can’t wait to have you all to myself in our place. We’ll make it ours... every single inch. And I’ll keep you in bed all day, every day, if that’s what you want. No interruptions, just us,”.

A rush of heat floods through you, the playful banter turning into something much more intense so quickly. Your pulse quickens, and you meet his eyes, feeling the weight of his words as they settle into your chest. “I think I could definitely get used to that,” you reply, your voice teasing, yet laced with a quiet promise of your own that you’d follow him wherever he wanted the both of you to go.

Joe’s fingers trail down your side, his touch light but calculated because he knows exactly how to set you off, and he leans in, his lips grazing yours with just enough pressure to make your heart skip a beat. “Oh, you will,” he murmurs against your lips, his breath warm and heavy. “You’ll be begging for it by the time I’m done with you, I can’t wait”.

His words, so confident, so sure of what’s to come, send a thrilling shiver through your entire body. You pull him closer, unable to resist the pull between you, and his lips meet yours again, but this time, there’s an undeniable hunger to the kiss. It’s deep, passionate, and promises so much more than just a kiss—it promises everything.

As you pull away, breathless and flushed, the reality of what’s coming settles over you both. The house, your new life, the future you’ll share together. It’s all so vivid now, so real, and you can’t help but grin as you gaze up at him. "I can't wait for any of it either," you whisper, your voice thick with anticipation, knowing that what you two shared was about to get a whole lot more intense, and you were more than ready for it.

End of flashback

“Aww, you guys are so cute,” Sydney coos, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she watches the way you and Joe interact with each other. “You guys just exude young and hopelessly in love energy and I’m so obsessed with it,” she smiles, raising her drink glass in the air as if she’s toasting to it.

“Agreed,” James adds with a grin, leaning back in his chair as he takes a sip of his drink. “I’ve never seen Y/N happier and freer like she is with you, Joe. You really just…get her,”.

Joe looks over at you, his smile lighting up his whole face. “Well, I’m lucky to have her,” he says, his voice filled with so much love and endearment for you that it makes you shy, prompting you to stuff your face in the crook of his neck.

You can’t help but grin, though; your heart swelling with so much love that it’s almost overwhelming. Being surrounded by your favorite family members, in the arms of the love of your life…it couldn’t get better than this for you. You meet his gaze, the kind of look that’s full of so much comfort, trust, and everything you’ve ever needed. No one has truly ever had you, not like Joe has. He brings out the best in you; you’ve felt it since day one. You can see it reflected in the way everyone else looks at the two of you—everyone can see how much he completes you, how much you’ve blossomed with him by your side.

—

Later, everyone heads back inside, naturally breaking off into their own little groups for some well-deserved downtime. The guys sprawl across the couch, eagerly setting up for a nostalgic session of Grand Theft Auto, while you, Sydney, and Bella gravitate to the kitchen island. With glasses of wine in hand, the three of you settle into the comforting flow of girl talk, sharing laughs and stories.

From where you're sitting, you catch a glimpse of Joe on the couch, his eyes bright and glued to the TV screen as he fumbles with the controller. His excitement is palpable, his boyish grin stretching wide as he banters with the guys. It’s so unguarded and carefree that it makes your chest warm. You stifle a giggle, watching him bounce slightly in his seat like a kid on Christmas morning. “God, he’s so cute when he’s like this,” you mutter, the words slipping out as you absentmindedly sip your wine.

Sydney raises an eyebrow, grinning. “You’re, like, disgustingly in love with him, aren’t you?”

“Guilty as charged,” you say with a laugh, glancing back over at him. He’s furiously pressing buttons, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, but that goofy grin of his hasn’t faded.

“So high school,” you grin, the fondness in your tone making the other two girls laugh.

Bella nudges your arm, smirking. “What’s the story? That sounded suspiciously nostalgic,”.

You freeze at Bella’s question, your cheeks instantly turning red. The memory that popped into your head wasn’t just nostalgic—it was scandalous, the kind of thing Joe would absolutely kill you for sharing.

Flashback to a few years ago

It was a lazy Saturday afternoon, and you’d just gotten back from lunch with friends—the little lunch date much needed after the jam-packed past few weeks you’d had with work, Joe, and football. The house was quiet except for the faint hum of the TV and the familiar chatter of Joe’s voice, mixed with laughter from his high school friends through his headset.

As you walked into the kitchen for a glass of water, you spotted him lounging on the couch, completely absorbed in the game. His shirt was slightly wrinkled, the fabric clinging to his shoulders in a way that drew your eye. His legs were spread in that effortlessly confident way he always seemed to sit, and the sight sent a small flutter through your stomach. When he noticed you, Joe muted his headset and placed it around his neck. “Hey, babe,” he greeted with an easy smile. “How was lunch?”.

“Good,” you replied, stepping closer. “The usual gossip, shit-talking, Becca venting about how she’s tired of waiting for Lance to propose but doesn’t have the courage to say something, and too many mimosas,”.

His gaze lingered as he nodded, completely used to the subjects you and your friends would cover during these lunches as you moved to sit beside him, a playful flicker lighting his eyes. “You look really good,” he said, the only thing he truly cared about was how gorgeous you looked.

You couldn’t help but grin, brushing his comment off with a teasing, “Thanks,” though your cheeks warmed at the way he was looking at you. As you leaned back into the couch, your flowy pink skirt shifted higher on your thighs. Joe’s eyes flicked down for the shortest moment before he smirked, his hand resting casually on your knee. His fingers traced lazy circles, light, and teasing, moving a fraction higher with each pass.

“Joe,” you murmured softly, your tone a mix of warning and intrigue.

“It’s fine,” he assured, his voice dipping lower. His hand slid higher, brushing the edge of your skirt. “They can’t see or hear. And besides…,” he leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear. “You owe me for this morning,”.

Your breath caught at the reminder. That morning, you’d left him with just enough to keep him on edge, teasing him with a brief but intense moment before you rushed out the door. Now, it seemed he wasn’t planning on letting you off so easily.

Joe leaned back into his casual pose again, headset in place, controller in hand. To anyone watching, he looked completely focused on the game. But the way his hand trailed higher, slipping under the hem of your skirt to brush against your bare thigh, told a very different story. “Joe,” you whispered again, your voice trembling as his fingers grazed your skin, igniting a fire that spread through your whole body.

“Relax,” Joe said, his voice so calm and unbothered it made your skin tingle. “Just sit back and enjoy.” His hand moved higher, fingers warm against your bare skin as they brushed the edge of your panties. Your breath caught as he let them linger there, teasing you with the promise of more. Slowly, he hooked a finger under the fabric, tugging it aside to expose your heat. The slight movement sent a shiver through you, anticipation pumping in your veins.

“Already this wet?” he murmured, his voice low and rough, barely audible over the chatter of his friends in his headset. There was pleasure in his tone, but also something darker, something possessive that made your cheeks flush. He knew he was the only one that got you like this, that had you like this.

When his finger slid inside you, the slow motion made you gasp softly. He was torturously unhurried, his pace designed to drive you insane. You bit down hard on your lip, struggling to hold back the sound building in your throat. His finger curled slightly, finding the spot that made your thighs tremble, and he stayed there, pressing just enough to send a shockwave through your body. Your hips bucked instinctively, seeking more, and his smirk deepened. “Careful,” he whispered, his eyes flicking to you briefly. “They might hear you,” he smirked, hitting unmute and sliding his headset back onto his ears.

“Oh my god, he’s insane,” you thought, your eyes widening as Joe continued chatting with his friends like nothing was happening. The ease in his voice was maddening, especially considering his hand was all over you right now. You shifted slightly, trying to keep your composure, but the intensity of his touch made it nearly impossible.

What if they heard you? The thought alone sent a rush of heat to your cheeks, mortification and arousal swirling together in your chest. If they found out, you’d never be able to look them in the eye again—hell, you’d probably never show your face in Athens again. But Joe didn’t seem to care. His thumb slid to your clit, brushing over it with precision. The sensation hit like a jolt of electricity, sharp and immediate, pulling a gasp from your lips that you barely managed to stifle.

You gripped the fabric of your skirt in desperation, trying to ground yourself as the pleasure threatened to consume you. His finger pressed deeper, the slow, deliberate rhythm making your pulse race. He wasn’t in a hurry—oh no. He moved as if he had all the time in the world, savoring every reaction he coaxed from you.

You clenched your fists, your breaths coming faster, and your head fell back against the couch. Joe added a second finger, the stretch making you gasp again. He began to pump them in and out, the pace steady but building, each movement sending you closer to the edge. “Joe,” you whimpered, your voice barely audible. Your body was trembling, heat coiling tightly in your core as he worked you over with such skill only he could have.

“I know, baby,” he murmured after muting himself again, his voice low and full of satisfaction. “I’ve got you,”.

His thumb circled your clit in time with the thrust of his fingers, the rhythm perfect and unrelenting. The pressure built and built, a tight knot of pleasure in your belly threatening to snap. Your thighs shook as you tried to stay quiet, but every motion, every touch made it harder. Joe turned his head slightly, pretending to adjust his headset as he leaned closer. “You’re doing so good,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. “Just a little more,”.

The sound of his voice and the way his fingers moved inside you sent you spiraling. The tension in your body reached its breaking point, and your hips bucked against his hand as the climax tore through you. Your walls clenched around his fingers, your entire body trembling with the force of it. You bit down on your lip, muffling the cry that escaped, but Joe wasn’t satisfied. His fingers slowed but didn’t stop, dragging out every last wave of your release until you were left trembling and motionless against the couch.

When he finally withdrew his hand, he brought his fingers to his mouth, his eyes locked on yours as he licked them clean, his expression filled with smug satisfaction.

He picked up his controller again like nothing had happened, unmuting his headset and rejoining the conversation with his friends. His voice was casual, easy, as if he hadn’t just unraveled you completely.

You sat there, trying to catch your breath, your body still buzzing from the intensity of what had just happened. Joe leaned over, his voice low enough that only you could hear. “That’s better,” he murmured as he pressed a kiss to your flushed cheek, his tone so smug it made your face feel like it was on fire.

His hand brushed your thigh one last time, a teasing reminder of what he’d just done, before he returned his full attention to the game. Meanwhile, you were left trying to steady yourself, still spinning from the way he’d left you completely undone.

End of flashback

You smile fondly at him after snapping back to the present, watching as he gets into “game mode” like he always does. It’s these moments, the little, playful ones, that make you realize just how lucky you are. The fact that he’s so fun, so carefree, yet still so committed to you—everything about him just feels right. It’s like you’ve found your person, and that feeling never gets old.

“It’s nothing, I promise,” you smile back at your cousins, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. “Just a little moment between us that I remembered,”.

Bella raises an eyebrow playfully as she looks at Sydney while taking a sip of her wine, lucky for you they know you too well and know exactly what you were daydreaming about and decided to skip right over it. “Joe’s a really great guy,” she says, her voice soft and sincere as she smoothly switches the topic.

“Mhm, he really meshes with everyone so well,” Sydney adds, nodding thoughtfully. She pops a chip into her mouth, chewing slowly as she watches Joe laughing with your other cousins in the living room. “I swear, it’s like he’s known all of us since we were little. I mean, them on the couch is a splitting image of all of us from our summers here,”.

You smile, feeling a swell of pride in your chest as you look over at Joe. He’s so comfortable, so at ease with everyone around him, so in tune with your family as if they were his own—which he always told you they were. “He does,” you agree. “It’s one of the things I love most about him, how natural he is with everyone. He just fits,”.

Bella smirks and leans in as she glances back from Joe to you, “Anddd, he’s absolutely amazing to you,” she says, her grin widening. “It was so sweet of him to call us all over here because he knew how much you missed the summers here from our childhood. He’s such a sweetheart, like your real-life prince charming—the kind of guy you used to dream about in high school, right? Tall, starry eyes, broad shoulders, those adorable crinkles around his eyes, a football player to act like fire to your ice,”.

A blush creeps up your face, and you shift slightly in your seat, suddenly feeling shy under the weight of their words. But there’s a sense of warmth and safety in their teasing, and it only makes you think of Joe that much more fondly. “He’s...he’s just so normal, you know?” you say, your voice so featherlight which was always expected when you talk about him. “Even though he’s a millionaire NFL quarterback, he never lets it get to his head. He’s just...Joe. And that’s more than enough for me,”.

Sydney pats your thigh gently, “And he is absolutely head over heels in love with you. Like, you can see it in everything he does, Y/N. It’s impossible not to,”.

“Yeah, he really is,” you reply, your heart gushing with affection. You take a sip of your wine, but it’s not enough to quiet the warmth blossoming in your chest at the thought of him.

Sydney leans in, her eyes twinkling with curiosity as she tries to dig for something that had been on her mind for quite some time now when it comes to you and Joe. “I mean, it’s been what? Five, six years now?”.

“Yup,” Bella responds, giving a knowing glance to you and Sydney.

Sydney chuckles, shaking her head. “Five, almost six years, and you’re still grinning like it’s the first day you two met. I mean, look at you. This is it, Y/N. This is the real deal,”.

Before you can respond, Bella jumps in with a dramatic flourish. “Here comes the bride!” she sings, mimicking a slow dance and causing you to break into laughter, unable to keep the giggles from escaping. Your cousins are both so playfully dramatic, but you wouldn’t trade them for anything. They knew how to make you feel loved and supported, especially when it came to Joe.

“Bella, you’re too much,” you giggle, rolling your eyes at her antics but secretly enjoying the teasing.

“Seriously though, is there a wedding in your near future?” Sydney asks, her tone more playful but still full of curiosity, her eyes twinkling with excitement. “Don’t keep us in suspense, baby cousin. I need to know if I need to order cardboard cut-outs of Joe’s face for the bachelorette party ahead of time,”.

You glance over at Joe, who’s still lost in the game, chatting with your cousins, his laugh echoing in the room. The sight of him, so happy and nonchalant, makes your heart skip a beat. You smile to yourself before looking back at your cousins, a soft warmth spreading through you as you answer their questions. “Actually, yeah,” you say, your voice soft but full of certainty. “We’ve talked about it,”.

Both Sydney and Bella’s faces light up in unison, their expressions radiating pure, unfiltered joy. Bella lets out an excited squeal while Sydney leans forward and clutches your forearm, her eyes wide. “No way,” she says, a grin spreading across her face. “You’re seriously talking about getting married?”.

You nod, your smile growing as you feel the full weight of the moment. The future, the life with Joe you had planned out when you first came to Ohio with him, it’s all starting to feel so real. “I really think the idea of marrying me popped into his head the moment we met,” you giggled, “But it’s something we’re both excited about and I can’t imagine my life without him, and he feels the same way,” you smile, floating back to the memory of the moment the topic was first brought up.

Flashback to last summer

The sun was high in the sky, its warmth wrapping around you like a comforting blanket as you lounged on the pool chair. The soft creak of the chair beneath you paired with the rhythmic chirping of cicadas created a soothing soundtrack to the lazy summer afternoon. With your eyes closed and a peaceful smile on your lips, you let the gentle hum of summer wash over you.

The moment’s peace was interrupted by the faint dip of the chair beside you. You opened your eyes to see Joe kneeling next to you, his mischievous grin making your heart skip a beat. “Think you can make some room?” he asked, his tone playful, a wink punctuating his words.

Without hesitation, you smiled back and spread your legs slightly. “Always,” you replied, the playful tension building between you like the rising heat of the day.

Joe slid into the space between your legs, resting the back of his head softly against your belly. His arms encircled your thighs, holding you close, and you instinctively ran your fingers through his sunlit hair. The golden strands were soft beneath your fingertips, and a contented sigh escaped your lips as you let yourself relax completely. For a few moments, the two of you simply existed in each other’s presence, your heartbeats syncing in the quiet intimacy of the afternoon. Then, breaking the silence, Joe’s voice drifted up to you.

“Do you wanna get married?”.

The casualness of his tone caught you completely off guard. You blinked, lifting your head slightly to make sure you hadn’t misheard him. “What?” you asked, your eyes widening as you tried to see if he was serious.

“I said, do you wanna get married?” he repeated with a little laugh, shifting slightly so his head now rested against your chest. His arms wrapped tighter around your waist, his eyes peeking up at you with a mixture of vulnerability and charm.

You chuckled, your surprise giving way to amusement. “Is this your way of proposing?” you teased, raising an eyebrow as you looked down at him.

Joe laughed at your lack of faith, did you seriously think that this is how he’d ask the love of his life, his favorite girl, to be his forever girl? “Not exactly. I don’t have a ring yet, and when I do propose, trust me—it’ll be a moment you’ll never forget. But I still want to know…would you want to marry me?”.

The question lingered in the air, and for a heartbeat, everything else seemed to fade. You could barely believe this was happening. You’d imagined your wedding day countless times before, wondered about the person who’d stand by your side, and now, here he was. Joe. Your boyfriend. Your best friend. Your everything.

The man you’ve dreamed about since you were a little girl, the man who knew what he wanted and got her with such ease, confidence, and a love that knew no limits.

“Of course I would,” you smiled, the words slipping out of your mouth so effortlessly, like they had always been meant to be spoken. But as you said them, a whirlwind of emotions surged through you, leaving your heart racing in a way you hadn’t expected.

At that moment, it wasn’t just a simple response. It was everything you’d ever dreamed of; the feeling of being seen, loved, and cherished by the one person who had truly captured your heart. You couldn’t help but admire how far the two of you had come, from the innocent coffee spill in the library to this beautiful, heart-stopping moment when Joe was asking you if you wanted to marry him. You’d spent your whole life imagining what it would be like, dreaming of the perfect person to share your future with, and here he was, your person, looking up at you with so much love and hope in his eyes. It felt like your heart had exploded, radiating warmth and love that stretched through every inch of your being.

The weight of his question hung in the air, and you realized that this wasn’t just about the moment—it was about the entire future that was waiting for you both. The life you had always wanted, with the person you had always dreamed of. And as you looked down at Joe, his gentle smile and the sincerity in his eyes made you certain that this was it. You were ready.

“I couldn’t think of a better person to spend my life with,” you added, your voice soft but filled with certainty. The love you had for him was undeniable, and the realization that he wanted you beside him for the rest of your lives made you feel like the luckiest person on earth.

Joe’s eyes lit up, his grin wide and genuine. He half-expected you to say something half-assed and brush it off because even though he knew you loved him more than anything in the world, he always got in his head. “Really?” he asked.

“Really,” you replied, your heart swelling as you smiled back at him. “You’re my dream guy, Joe. Everything about you…just works for me. The way you love me, make me smile when I feel like the walls are caving in, the way your physical presence just brings me back down to earth. And I can’t forget the way you make me laugh when I’m on the verge of tears, or the way you make me feel so young…like I’m in high school every time I look at you and those gorgeous starry eyes. And I’m so glad I spilled that coffee on your textbooks in the library at LSU—it brought me to you. The best thing that could have ever happened to me,”.

Joe chuckled, his shoulders shaking lightly against you as he pressed a soft kiss to your chest. “Best accident of your life,” he murmured.

You ran your fingers gently along his back, the weight of his words settling into your heart. “I know life’s a little crazy right now with football and everything,” you said, your voice soft. “Focus on your goals, okay? And when the time is right…I’ll be here,”.

Joe lifted his head from your chest, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. He moved closer, pressing soft kisses to your lips, one after another, each one filled with so much love and promise. “I love you so much,” he murmured between kisses.

“I love you too, future husband,” you whispered, and as Joe kissed you again, this time with a little more passion, you couldn’t help but feel that everything had already fallen into place. The dream of your future, of marriage, of a life with Joe, was no longer just a fantasy—it was becoming your reality piece by piece.

End of flashback

You blush, the memory and the weight of your cousin’s words from tonight feeling like an affirmation of everything you’ve always wanted. You look back over at Joe, watching as he finally notices the three of you watching him. He grins, his eyes softening when they meet yours. It’s that familiar look—filled with love, trust, and everything you’ve ever wanted.

“I think I’ve found my forever,” you whisper, more to yourself than anyone else. You know it, and they do too.

“Awwww,” your cousins say in unison, their voices dripping with excitement for you and Joe.

You laugh softly, trying to hide the heat creeping up your neck, but you can’t help the wide smile that spreads across your face. “So yeah,” you breathe out, “It’s gonna happen when it happens,” you shrug, pretending to act nonchalant, even though your heart is doing flips in your chest.

Sydney, ever the perceptive one, raises an eyebrow, her grin only getting wider. “Well, I have a feeling it’s gonna happen soon. My intuition has never failed me,” she says with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, clearly loving her role as the self-proclaimed psychic of the group.

“Syd’s right. Remember when her intuition said that the Zipper ride at the pier was going to break down mid-ride and that we shouldn’t go on it? And then 15 minutes later, what happened?” Bella chimes in as she raises her brows dramatically, referencing a memory that still makes you and the group laugh to this day because of how you and James almost got trapped there by yourselves.

You roll your eyes, laughing at how they always bring that up. “You guys are too much,” you giggle, getting off the barstool and heading to the sink to put the empty glasses away. But despite your words, there’s a warm, soft feeling in your chest—your cousins’ excitement only makes everything feel more real.

“Can’t help it. Baby Cousin is gonna be a Wifeyyyy!” Bella sings, dramatically twirling you around, her energy contagious as she pulls you into a hug. The way she says it—so full of love and excitement—makes you want to laugh and cry all at once. “Shut up,” you laugh, rolling your eyes as you wrap your arms around her, the moment feeling like one of those memories you’d treasure forever.

—

The next hour flew by faster than you imagined, and part of that had to do with how you and the girls spent the entirety of your girl-talk planning out your and Joe’s wedding in your minds. From the flowers to the location to the honeymoon destination, even the kind of car you both would drive off in—everything was discussed, every detail thought out as if it were already real. It felt like your heart was racing with excitement, each idea sparking another, like you were crafting the most perfect version of your future.

Sydney and Bella were fully invested in helping you design your dream wedding, offering ideas that ranged from fairy-tale castles to cozy beachside ceremonies. Bella was stubborn about having soft, twinkling fairy lights everywhere, while Sydney kept throwing out ideas for a rustic barn setting, complete with twigs and greenery lining the aisle. You couldn’t help but laugh at how different their visions were, but at the same time, you loved it. Every suggestion felt like a tiny piece of the perfect puzzle that would eventually come together.

But before you could get too deep into things, you heard the video game sounds coming from the living room stop, followed by a voice breaking through the chatter. Yo, you guys ready to go to the pier?” Micheal called from the living room, his voice brimming with excitement.

Sydney and Bella exchanged a look before Sydney stood up with a mischievous grin. “Looks like the fun's just beginning,” she said, smoothing down her sundress as sat up from her barstool. “We’ll pick this up later, don’t worry. We can’t leave the guys hanging too long or I think James and Micheal would convince Joe to leave without us,”.

“Those two love that old ass rollercoaster overlooking the water so damn much, I think they’d actually jump the fences this time around if we weren’t allowed in,” you giggled, as you turned your head toward Joe, who was now standing by the door, arms crossed and leaning casually against the frame. He caught your eye and gave you that signature smirk, the one that made your heart do a little jump every time. He was clearly waiting for you, as if he couldn’t imagine going anywhere without you by his side.

You walked over to him, his arms already opened and waiting for you, like they always were. The second you were close enough, Joe pulled you into his chest, his warmth wrapping around you as effortlessly as his love always did. His scent—fresh, a mix of his usual Soleil Blanc and the remnants of your dip in the ocean earlier—hit you immediately, grounding you in his presence. You giggled softly, leaning into him as if he were the only thing keeping you steady from the amount of alcohol you’d consumed in the past two hours.

“Those two are going to be the death of me,” you murmured, your voice tinged with playful irritation, though the grin tugging at your lips betrayed the warmth you felt. “I swear, I was two seconds away from playing referee between them while they argued about whether we should go rustic or coastal for our wedding vibe.” You rolled your eyes for effect but couldn’t help the soft laugh that followed, your mind replaying Sydney and Bella’s relentless bickering.

Joe chuckled, the sound deep and rich, vibrating through his chest as he pulled you a bit closer. His hands rested gently on your waist, thumbs tracing absentminded circles over the soft fabric of your lilac top. The subtle touch sent warmth spreading through you, like you were a planet caught in his orbit. “They do realize it’s our wedding, right? And that we’re going to make the decisions?” his voice was light, teasing, but his eyes held that familiar spark of adoration.

“They’d lose their minds if I told them we tossed around the idea of getting married in the backyard,” you joked, tilting your head to look up at him, your expression mischievous.

Joe smirked, a slow, knowing curve of his lips that made your heart flutter. He leaned down, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath against your ear, his voice dipping into that low, intimate tone that always sent shivers down your spine. “Which is exactly why we’re not telling them,” he whispered, the corners of his mouth twitching as his eyes gleamed with humor.

You burst into laughter, shaking your head at how effortlessly he could make you feel like you were the only two people in the room. The rest of the world—your cousins, the chaos of dream wedding planning, even the little stresses in the back of your mind—faded into the background. All that mattered was the way he looked at you, like you were his entire world.

“They’re never going to let us live this down,” you said through your laughter, wrapping your arms loosely around his neck. Your forehead dropped against his, the intimacy of the moment settling over you like a warm blanket.

Joe’s expression softened, the teasing glint in his eyes replaced by something deeper, something that made your breath catch. “Let them try,” he murmured, his voice low and steady, grounding you in the same way his touch always did. “As long as you’re happy, I couldn’t care less what anyone thinks,”.

Your chest tightened, the sincerity in his voice hitting you squarely in the heart. You leaned your head slightly, your nose brushing his as your voice softened. “You’re too good at this, you know that?” you teased, though your words were wrapped in affection.

Joe’s lips quirked up into a tender smile, his blue eyes locking with yours in that way that always made you feel like time had stopped. “Not too good,” he murmured, his voice dropping just enough to make your pulse race, “Just good enough for you,”.

He closed the small distance between you, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both gentle and consuming. It wasn’t hurried or brief; it was the kind of kiss that left you breathless, the kind that spoke of everything words couldn’t quite express. His hands tightened slightly on your waist, anchoring you to him as if he was afraid the moment might slip away. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and he let out a soft, content sigh. “You ready to go, beautiful?” he asked, his voice tinged with a comforting warmth as he reached over to grab the car keys sitting on the counter.

You smiled, leaning into him for a brief moment longer like you were trying to absorb all the love and reassurance he gave so effortlessly. “Yeah,” you whispered, your voice soft.

It wasn’t until you stepped back and glanced toward the kitchen that you realized all your cousins were standing by the island, unabashedly staring at the two of you with wide, knowing grins plastered across their faces. “Y’all are disgusting,” James deadpanned, breaking the moment with a dramatic roll of his eyes, though the amused twitch of his lips betrayed him.

Sydney smirked, “Seriously, we’re all standing right here. Get a room,”.

Bella groaned as she dropped her head on Micheal’s shoulder in sadness, “You’re setting the bar way too high for the rest of us, Joe. I’m painfully single and no man ever treats me like that,”.

You felt your cheeks heat, but before you could respond, Joe just grinned and threw his arm over your shoulders, effortlessly pulling you against his side as he walked you both toward where your shoes were. “Can’t help it,” he said easily, shooting your cousins a smug look over his shoulder. “She’s the love of my life. What do you expect?”.

Your cousins groaned in mock protest, but you couldn’t stop the smile that stretched across your face, your heart soaring at the way he acted so possessive with you. Joe leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to your temple as you reached the door, his voice low enough for only you to hear. “And don’t you ever forget it,” he whispered, his words wrapping around your heart like a promise.

You glanced up at him, your eyes sparkling with emotion, and in that moment, you knew: he wasn’t just good enough for you. He was perfect.

A few minutes later

The car hummed softly as you and Joe cruised down the beachside roads, the late evening light casting a golden glow through the windows. You leaned back against the headrest, stealing glances at Joe as he drove, his hands steady on the wheel. He had that familiar concentration on his face, the one he always wore when he was focused on something, and it made you feel a little giddy inside.

Joe broke the comfortable silence eventually, looking over at you with a grin, “So, Micheal’s been bugging me about growing my hair out again,” he said with a slight chuckle. “He’s convinced that the long hair brings good energy around…something about how something about how it makes me look younger and carefree. I think he just wants to see me with a ponytail. But he better not ever hold his breath because I am never growing it out that much,”.

You raised an eyebrow, a playful grin tugging at your lips. “Long hair, huh?” you said, tilting your head as you stared at him. You couldn't help but imagine it again, his hair the way he had it just a few years ago.

The hair that had you weak in the knees for months.

“Yeah, man keeps saying I should try it again and not just cut it after having one bad game,” Joe continued, glancing at you for a second with a small, teasing smirk. “What do you think? Should I?”.

You bit your lip, trying to hide your excitement as the thought of him with longer hair started to swirl in your mind. The image of him with his hair just enough for a headband to keep it out of his face—it made your heart race. There was nothing more you loved than Joe’s little long hair period…god those curls…those curls were still present in your dreams.

“I’m so down bad for that,” you blurted, your voice almost a little breathless. “Like, seriously.” You leaned forward slightly, eyes locked on his body as you tried to control the longing in your voice. “I love it when you wear a headband. You look...so much younger. In the best way. Like, I can’t even tell you how much I love that look on you,”.

Joe chuckled, clearly amused. “You like that, huh?” he said, his eyes flicking to you for a moment before he turned back to the road. His lips curved upward as he took in your expression.

“You have no idea,” you replied, the heat in your voice rising with each word. “It drives me crazy. And not just because you look cute with a headband, but because I love pulling on your hair during—,”. You cut yourself off, suddenly realizing where the conversation was heading, but the tension between you two already felt thick the promise from earlier in the day—finishing what you started before your cousins got here.

Joe’s smirk only deepened, a knowing twinkle flashing in his eyes. “Oh, I know exactly what you mean,” he teased, his a little raspy now. He reached up, running a hand through his hair, and you couldn’t help but feel the heat rising in your body at the thought of his hair long enough to tug on.

The silence that followed was comfortable but charged, the air between you two humming with something you both felt but didn't need to say out loud. He turned onto a quieter road, the faintest smile playing on his lips as he clearly thought about the very thing you'd just mentioned.

“You know,” Joe began, his voice quieter, more intimate now, “Maybe I should grow it out just for you. Screw being more carefree…I could just give you more to pull on,”. His eyes flicked to yours again, and you both shared a look, your heart racing, the playful banter now laced with something deeper.

You leaned back in your seat, feeling a mix of desire and affection as you watched him. “I think you should,” you said, your voice just a little breathy. “For me? Definitely,”.

Joe chuckled again, that deep, smooth sound that always made your stomach flutter. “Alright, well, looks like I’m growing it out then,” he said, with a wink. “And maybe I'll even rock that headband more often for you,”

You grinned, feeling the rush of anticipation bubbling inside you. “Good,” you replied, voice dripping with teasing sweetness. “And just so you know, I’ll be taking full advantage of that hair...every chance I get,”.

Joe moved his hand from the center console and gently placed it on your thigh, the weight of his touch grounding you in the most comforting way. His hand was warm and steady, a quiet reassurance that he was there, always there. The soft squeeze he gave your thigh sent a ripple of love through you, making your chest ache in the best way. “You having fun?” he asked, his voice filled with nothing but affection, like it was impossible for him to speak to you any other way.

You leaned into him slightly, smiling as your fingers grazed over the back of his hand. “I am,” you said, your voice warm, sincere. “Thank you so much for doing this, baby.” You lifted his hand to your lips, brushing a soft kiss over his knuckles. It was such a simple gesture, but it felt monumental, like every touch held the weight of a thousand unspoken promises.

Joe glanced at you with that smile—the one that could make your heart stop and your breath hitch all at once. “Hey,” he said, his voice casual but his eyes serious, filled with the kind of love that made you weak in the knees. “They’re my family too,” he nodded toward the road ahead where your cousins’ car was just up the way, but his gaze quickly returned to you. The look in his eyes told you everything—this wasn’t just for you. This was for him, too. Being with you, being part of your world, was exactly where he wanted to be.

You couldn’t help but let your eyes linger on him a little longer than you intended, the moment stretching out between you. The soft glow from the boardwalk lights reflected off his face, and for a second, everything else melted away. God, how was this your life? Joe wasn’t just a dream come true—he was the dream. The man who had walked into your world and made it brighter in every possible way. Your family adored him, your friends sang his praises, and you? You were so in love with him, it physically hurt and sometimes it felt like you couldn’t breathe. No one else could make you feel this way—no one else ever would. The Cove might have been your home, but you realized that home was wherever he was.

He was your home, your peace, your future. Just as this place was for you when you were younger.

“You know,” Joe said, breaking the silence again and glancing at you quickly before turning his focus back to the road, “It’s crazy how everything changed in the blink of a crinkling eye,”. “Feels like just yesterday we were sitting across from each other at that FroYo place near campus,”.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly at the memory, the sound warm and nostalgic just like the thought of that date. “I know,” you replied, leaning your head back against the seat. “You were so nervous…it was so adorable,”.

Joe chuckled, his hand squeezing your thigh gently. “I was not nervous,” he protested, though the playful tone in his voice betrayed him. “You were just…you were something else. You still are. I remember sitting there, trying to act all cool, but the second you smiled at me like how you do now, I was done for. Take my heart, my attention, my breath, my last name. It’s all yours,”.

You turned your head to look at him, your heart swelling with the memory. “I remember thinking, ‘This guy? The quarterback? He’s way too good to be true.’ But then you made that dumb joke about how toppings are what separate FroYo from ice cream and that little conversation about Fred’s and I thought, ‘Yep, this one’s a keeper’,”.

“I still stand by that joke. It’s a classic one my dad used to tell, I do a great impression of him…as you know, and that was one of them,” he smiled.

You grinned, the warmth in your chest spilling over into your words. “It’s wild how far we’ve come, though. From that little FroYo shop to this…to us,” you paused, your voice softening. “Back then, I had no idea how much my life was about to change,”.

Joe’s hand left your thigh for a moment, only to reach over and entwine his fingers with yours. “Neither did I,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “But I knew, even then, that you were it for me. Everything else—the football, the attention, all of it—it never mattered as much as being with you,”.

Your throat tightened at his words, the significance of his sincerity washing over you. “Joe…,”. you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. “You make me feel so…safe. Like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be,”.

Joe glanced at you again, his blue eyes soft and full of love. “That’s because you are,” he said simply. “And I am too. Right here with you,”.

The car fell into a comfortable silence after that, the hum of the engine and the soft sound of the ocean breeze outside the only noise. You reached over and placed your free hand on his arm, squeezing gently, as the glow of the Ferris Wheel grew brighter in the distance.

Being here with him, in this moment, felt like stepping into a dream. The memory of that first date at LSU seemed both so far away and yet so close, like it had all happened in another lifetime. And yet, every step since then had led you here—to this moment, to this life, to him.

It really did feel like everything had changed in the blink of an eye, but somehow, it also felt like it had always been leading to this.

“Y/N,” Joe’s voice pulled you back to reality, light and teasing. “You’re staring at me again,” he said, his lips curving into a smirk.

You blinked as your laughter bubbled up, “I know,” you admitted. You glanced back out at the boardwalk lights as they came into clearer view. You hadn’t even noticed how close you were to the pier—the car rolling into the lot barely registered in your mind. You’d been too busy getting lost in him.

Joe shot you a knowing look, his smirk growing. “Well…you gonna tell me why this time?”.

You let out a soft, content sigh, your heart feeling impossibly full. “I just feel so high school every time I look at you,” you confessed, the words tumbling out without hesitation. Your voice was light, almost dreamy; just like him. “Like, I feel 16 again. I’m dating the quarterback—the one who notices me in the stands and actually falls for me. It’s like every stupid fantasy I had when I was younger, but so much better. I never thought I’d have the courage to make a move, but you did. You knew what you wanted, and now, here we are. It’s like I’m living a teen rom-com with you,” you paused, glancing out at the pier where the Ferris Wheel spun slowly in the night sky. “Being here, doing all of this, it just feels like I’ve stepped into one of my favorite memories and brought you with me,”.

Joe parked the car, his hand still entwined with yours, but his eyes were now fully on you. His gaze softened as your words settled in, and you could see the way his heart melted in real-time. He leaned closer, his hand leaving yours to cup your cheek instead. His thumb brushed along your jawline, slow and tender, as he whispered, “Y/N, I love you,”. The raw emotion in his voice made your heart race. “You’re my dream, too. Then, now, and forever,” he added, his words barely audible but no less powerful.

You leaned in, closing the small gap between you, your lips brushing his as you whispered, “I love you too, Joe. Thank you for making my dream a reality,”.

The kiss that followed was soft, sweet—one that held the weight of everything you both felt but didn’t need to say out loud. The neon glow from the Ferris Wheel bathed you in its warm light, painting the moment in hues of magic. It was like something out of a high school movie—the kind of scene that stayed etched in your memory forever. Sitting there, in the car with the man of your dreams, at the very place where so many of your favorite memories were made, felt like a full-circle moment.

When you finally pulled away, breathless but grinning, your laughter bubbled up, soft and full of warmth. “You know how that felt?” you asked, your voice light but tinged with meaning, your eyes never leaving his.

Joe’s lips curved into that familiar, boyish grin that always made your heart skip. His voice was playful yet tender as he replied, “So high school?”.

A laugh escaped you, your chest tightening with affection. “So high school,” you echoed, your voice carrying a mix of amusement and something softer, something deeper. You leaned in again, brushing your lips against his for another quick kiss, but before the moment could last, a loud knock against the window shattered your little bubble.

“Come onnn, lovebirds!” Micheal’s teasing voice broke through, loud and full of mock impatience. “We don’t have all night!”.

Joe groaned, shaking his head as he chuckled. “They’re relentless,” he murmured, shooting you an amused glance before opening his door and stepping out. In one smooth motion, he rounded the car to open your door, as he always did. His hand was there immediately, warm and steady, as he helped you out. His fingers entwined with yours, fitting perfectly like they belonged there and you could just sink into him.

“Let’s make this night ours,” Joe whispered, his voice low and intimate, meant only for you. His thumb brushed softly over your hand, a silent promise in the touch. You looked up at him, your heart full, and nodded, unable to do anything but smile.

Together, you walked toward the pier, your steps falling effortlessly in sync as if your bodies knew the rhythm of being together better than anything else. The neon glow of the Ferris Wheel reflected in his eyes, making them shine even brighter than usual. The salty ocean breeze danced around you, lifting your hair and kissing your cheeks, but all you felt was the warmth of his hand in yours and the unshakable joy radiating between you.

It wasn’t just a walk to the pier—it was a moment that felt timeless. Being with Joe felt like those endless summer nights you’d spent as a teenager, where the world seemed to stop spinning and all that existed was love, laughter, and the glow of possibilities. He made you feel carefree and infinite, like you could bottle this moment and carry it with you forever.

As the sound of the waves filled the air, and the lights of the pier painted the night with magic, you squeezed Joe’s hand, glancing up at him. His expression was soft, his smile easy, but the way he looked at you held so much more. It was a look that said you were his world, his dream, his forever.

The future stretched out ahead of you, glowing with promise like the lights strung along the boardwalk. With Joe by your side, it didn’t feel uncertain—it felt certain. Certain that no matter what was to come, you’d face it together. In that moment, your heart swelled with the kind of love you’d only dreamed of, the kind that made everything else fade into the background.

Joe glanced down at you, his grin turning playful as he nudged you lightly. “So, you wanna hit the Ferris Wheel first or grab some cotton candy?”.

You laughed, leaning your head against his shoulder as you walked. “Both,” you said, your voice light with excitement. “We’re doing everything tonight, Mr. Quarterback,”.

He chuckled, his hand squeezing yours as he pressed a kiss to your temple. “Anything you want, lovebug,”.

And just like that, with the Ferris Wheel spinning above and the sound of your cousins laughing in the background, you knew. This was your forever. With Joe, every moment felt like a dream you never wanted to wake up from—a love story that would only grow sweeter with time.

–The End–

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