#Bengals game today
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jessikalindgren · 2 months ago
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Jayden Daniels leads Commanders in win over Bengals
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It took until the third quarter of Jayden Daniels' third NFL game for him to get his first passing touchdown, and it might end up being one of the most interesting bits of trivia about the quarterback's career.
The play was simple enough; Daniels faked a handoff to Brian Robinson Jr. and rolled out to his left unopposed as the entire Cincinnati Bengals defense bit on the play action. Daniels dumped off the pass to his target to give the Commanders a 15-point lead. Read More...
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vsonker · 2 months ago
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Bengals vs. Washington Commanders: The Ultimate Matchup Preview
Bengals vs. Washington Commanders: The Ultimate Matchup PreviewAs the NFL season heats up, one of the most exciting matchups on the calendar is the clash between the Cincinnati Bengals and the Washington Commanders. This game is not just about the scores; it encapsulates the spirit of competition, strategy, and fanfare that the NFL represents. In this article, we’ll delve deep into team…
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kdsburneraccount · 2 months ago
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No aces threepeat i breathed a sigh of relief
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0zzysaurus · 2 months ago
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Oh by the way…
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mamaestapa · 1 year ago
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the only game i can get today is the bills/dolphins game
i was going to ask how the bengals are doing but…things don’t seem to be going too great😬
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allpromarlo · 2 years ago
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we got called soft all week (for laying dormant and resting our starters...lmao) but the moment we return the energy the tears start free falling. okay
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sujooon · 2 months ago
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The Cincinnati Bengals entered MetLife Stadium on Sunday night with their backs against the wall, facing the New York Giants in a game that felt like a must-win. Sitting at 1-4 on the season, another loss would have likely spelled disaster for their playoff hopes. However, when the dust settled, the Bengals walked away with a 17-7 victory, breathing new life into their season and sending a message that they are not done yet.
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goodboygustav · 11 months ago
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Hi welcome to FedEx Office why the fuck are you here on New Year’s Eve
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allthatdivides2 · 1 year ago
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the endless joys of being an autistic faggot football fan. the analyzation. the numbers. the RULES. and then if youre bored well there are mens asses to appreciate. perhaps even some arms. thighs. what was i sayng
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v6quewrlds · 2 months ago
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❝ my little love, j. burrow. ❞  ‎ ‎ ┉  
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‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀summary: the afc championship game is around the corner. thankfully amara burrow is more than happy to make sure her daddy is ready to bring it home.
‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀author's note: a little game dey fic based on an anon request for good luck. might make this a series possibly bc i'm in love with this concept <333 ty anon for requesting!!
‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀warnings: mostly fluff and an adorable toddler. joe's a little out of character but pls let me be a little delusional.
‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀pairing: joe burrow x wife!reader.
‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀word count: 4.5k.
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The morning light painted the room a soft shade of gold as your eyes slowly opened to the sound of Joe's quiet footsteps. His honey-blonde hair was still damp from the shower, and you felt a pang of loss as his body heat retreated from your shared space. You watched him from the bed, his strong arms moving with the ease of routine as he pulled on his clothes. His Bengals hoodie hung from the chair, a silent reminder of the day ahead.
"You're leaving already?" you mumbled, your voice thick with sleep.
Joe looked up from tying his shoes, a warm smile playing on his lips. "Got to get to the stadium, babe." He walked over to the bed, planted a kiss on your forehead, and whispered, "Early morning practice before the game tonight."
You sat up, your heart racing as you realized the significance of the day. "It's AFC Championship day," you murmured softly, your lips pulling into a lazy smile. "Amara's going to be so disappointed she slept through your send-off."
Joe chuckled and leaned over to kiss you again, this time his lips lingered on yours. "It's okay. She'll probably be asleep for another few hours." He glanced at the clock on the nightstand. "But I'd better get going." He turned to leave, but your hand shot out, grabbing his arm.
"Can I make you some breakfast?" you offered, pushing yourself up on your elbows. "Just something quick?"
He looked at you with affectionate amusement. "Nah, I've got it covered. You just rest up. Enjoy your day off, baby." With that, he stood up to his full height.
His blonde head turning to look at the door as it cracked open. Amara's curly hair appeared first, then her sleepy eyes peeked through the gap. She looked around the room, her gaze finally landing on her dad. "Daddy," she whimpered, her voice barely above a whisper.
Joe's smile grew wider as he crouched down to scoop her up in his arms. "Hey, baby girl," he greeted. Amara giggled, her cheeks pink with the excitement of being woken by a surprise. She snuggled into his embrace, her small arms wrapping around his neck.
"Why are you leaving?" Amara asked sleepily, her voice muffled against Joe's chest.
"I've got a big game today remember, pumpkin?" Joe replied, his voice gentle. "But I'll be back after practice to get ready for the game with you and Mommy, okay?"
Amara nodded, her eyes half-closed as she drifted back to sleep in her father's arms. You watched them with a mix of love and amusement. "Looks like she's not going anywhere," you said with a chuckle. "Let's get her back to bed before she decides she wants to come to practice too."
Joe carefully laid Amara back on the bed, her curly hair fanning out around her on the pillow. He kissed her forehead before standing up. "Alright, I'll be back soon. You stay here with Mommy," he whispered.
You watched him go, feeling a mix of pride and a hint of sadness as he disappeared from the doorway. You knew this was his moment, and you were determined to make sure everything was perfect for him. After a few minutes of cuddling Amara back to sleep, you slipped back into your own slumber. The warmth of your daughter's body and the quiet whispers of the morning lulling you into a peaceful doze.
When you woke up, the sun had climbed higher in the sky, casting bright beams through the windows. Amara was playing quietly with the edge of the bedspread, her eyes glued to the side of your sleeping face. You kissed her forehead, "Good morning, sunshine," you murmured. "Daddy has his big game tonight, remember?"
Amara's eyes lit up, and she nodded vigorously. "I'm going to help him win," she announced.
You chuckled, "Well, you've got to get ready for the game too, baby girl. Let's go brush your teeth and get dressed." You picked up your daughter, who was now fully awake, and carried her to the bathroom. The smell of minty toothpaste filled the air as you bent over the sink, supporting Amara's little frame as she brushed her teeth herself. Afterward, you made your way back downstairs to find a surprise waiting for you: two plates of steaming pancakes with a side of cut and washed strawberries and a sticky note that read, "For my two favorite girls."
"Look what Daddy made us," you exclaimed, pointing to the breakfast spread.
Amara's eyes grew wide with excitement. "Can I have syrup?" she asked, her voice tinged with hope.
"Of course, you can, honey," you said, pouring a little pool of syrup onto your daughter's plate. "But not too much, okay?"
You sat down at the kitchen table, the pancakes steaming up the windows. You took a bite of yours, savoring the sweetness that Joe had managed to capture perfectly despite his rush. You could almost taste the love he'd put into it. As you ate, Amara chattered away, her excitement for the game contagious.
Once breakfast was done, it was time to get ready. You washed and detangled Amara's curls, applying a generous amount of coconut-scented conditioner. The scent filled the bathroom, mixing with the humidity from the hot water. Most days it was a struggle to get Amara to sit still for hair brushing, but today she was surprisingly patient as you worked through her curls. The TV played the pregame show in the background, with the sounds of commentators and cheers from distant crowds setting the atmosphere.
"Mommy, can I wear my special shirt today?" Amara asked, her eyes shining with excitement.
"Of course," you responded, referring to her tiny, custom-made rhinestone jersey that read 'Daddy's MVP' in glittering letters. It was a miniature version of Joe's home game attire, and Amara absolutely adored it. He had it made for her third birthday months in advance, and it had been a staple of her wardrobe during the football season.
The two of you sat in comfortable silence as you continued working through the curls, your fingers moving with practiced ease. You couldn't help but feel a sense of peace wash over you. Despite the excitement of the day ahead, there was something so grounding about these quiet moments with your daughter.
As you worked, the jiggle of the doorbell echoed through the house. "Who's that?" You gasped dramatically, knowing full well that your husband had returned from practice.
"It's Daddy!" Amara shouted, jumping off the chair and sprinting towards the door.
You couldn't help but laugh as you followed her daughter, calling after her, "You know you can't just run off like that, young lady!" But the sound of Joe's laughter as he walked through the front door told you he didn't mind. When the two of you entered the living room, Joe was there, freshly showered and dressed in a casual outfit. His eyes lit up at the sight of you, and he scooped Amara up, twirling her around until she squealed with delight.
"Are you getting ready for the game?" Joe asked Amara as he set her back down, his eyes sparkling with excitement.
"Yes!" Amara exclaimed, bouncing in his arms. "Mommy's doing my hair right now." She pointed to the chair you decided to carry with you downstairs. You had learned the hard way that once her father was home, it would be hard to get Amara away from him.
Joe's eyes met yours, and you could see the warmth and love in them. "You're doing a great job," he said, planting a kiss on Amara's forehead. "Why don't you finish up with Mommy and then you can help me get ready?"
You nodded, "Let's get those curls looking perfect for the game." You sat back down with Amara on your lap, continuing the meticulous task of styling her hair. The sound of the TV grew louder as the commentators discussed the upcoming matchup. The excitement was palpable, and even you felt a thrill of anticipation.
While you worked your magic with Amara's hair, Joe took a seat on the couch, his eyes glued to the screen. His gaze would occasionally drift to the two of you, a soft smile playing on his lips. Despite the nerves that were surely bubbling beneath the surface, he looked relaxed and at peace. You knew that seeing his family happy brought him comfort, a nonverbal pep talk before the battle ahead.
As you patted her head to signal she was done, Amara looked up at you with wide eyes. "Done?" She asked, her voice filled with excitement. You nodded, and Joe hit the pause button on the TV. "So, Coach," Joe began, gaining Amara's attention as she skipped over to him. "You gonna help me watch film?"
Amara nodded excitedly, her head bobbing up and down as if she were at an interview. You watched them with a warm smile, the love in Joe's eyes for their daughter was something you never got tired of seeing. As Joe carried Amara upstairs to his office, you took a moment to appreciate the quiet house. You knew that once your in-laws arrived, the calmness would be replaced with the buzz of pregame energy.
Your phone vibrated with a text from Robin, Joe's mom. "Be there in 20!" it read. 
You hurried upstairs to finish your own makeup and hair. You had decided to go with a sleek bun, throwing on your 'Burrow' jersey and slipping on a pair of leggings just until Joe's parents arrived. As you applied a coat of mascara, you heard the doorbell ring.
Rushing downstairs, you threw open the door to find Robin and Jimmy standing there with arms full of Amara's favorite snacks and juice boxes. "We come bearing gifts," Jimmy said with a wink.
"Thanks," you said, taking the boxes from them and setting it on the kitchen counter. "Amara's upstairs with Joe, watching some last-minute game film."
Robin and Jimmy exchanged surprised glances. "On game day?" Robin asked, raising an eyebrow. "That's new."
"Amara's the only one who can get him to break his routine," you said with a chuckle. "I'm married to the man and I'm not even allowed in there on game days. Forget the day of the AFC Championship."
Robin laughed as she set down her bag and looked around for somewhere to sit. "Well, she's definitely her daddy's little girl."
"You have no idea," you said, rolling your eyes playfully. "But it's cute. And honestly, it keeps her out of my hair so I can get ready in peace."
You all shared a laugh, the tension of the impending game momentarily forgotten in the warmth of your family dynamic. Jimmy leaned against the kitchen counter, his eyes gleaming with pride. "It's good to see him loosen up a bit. The game's going to be intense enough."
You nodded in agreement, your eyes flickering to the stairs where you could hear Joe's low voice explaining plays to Amara. "You guys grab whatever you want," you offered, gesturing to the fridge. "I'm just going to go get dressed properly."
In the bedroom, you were surprised by the sight of your daughter, now dressed in her rhinestone jersey and sitting cross-legged on your bed. She had her dad's playbook open in front of her, her little hands tracing over the diagrams with a serious expression.
"Where's your player, Coach?" You asked with a smile, stepping into the room.
Amara looked up at you with a grin that was all Joe. "He's getting ready," she replied, her eyes bright with excitement. You couldn't help but feel a swell of pride at your daughter's enthusiasm. You quickly changed into your own game day outfit, swapping your leggings for straight-leg jeans and low top Jordans that matched Joe’s cleats.
As you finished up your makeup, Joe emerged dressed to perfection in his game day outfit. He picked up Amara, who squealed with delight as she was swept into his arms. "What do you think, Coach?"
Amara studied him intently, her eyes roving over his outfit and the matching shoes. "You look like a winner, Daddy," she declared with the confidence of someone who had never seen him lose.
Joe chuckled, his eyes shining. "Thanks, Coach." He leaned over and kissed you. "You too, beautiful."
Your cheeks heated up with a mix of love and excitement. You had picked out the perfect outfit to match your daughter's jersey. The three of you made quite the trio: Joe in his tailored outfit, you in your jersey, and Amara in her mini-me version of Joe's game day look.
You made your way to the stadium, the energy in the air electric. Fans in black and orange jerseys lined the streets, their chants echoing off the buildings. The anticipation grew stronger as you approached Paycor Stadium, the towering structure a beacon of hope for a victory that would take the Bengals to the Super Bowl.
As you walked through the tunnel leading to the sidelines, you felt your heart pounding in your chest. This wasn't just any game; this was the AFC Championship. You held Amara's hand tightly, her eyes scanning the field as Joe went to join his team. The players warmed up, their movements an anxious show of power, each one focused on the task at hand.
Amara's grip grew tighter as she finally spotted her uncles, Joe's teammates, and friends, Ja'Marr and Tee. "Look, Mommy, there's Uncle Tee and Uncle Ja'Marr!" she squealed, pointing. You laughed and nodded, your eyes finding the two men who looked over and waved. They broke away from their warm-up routine to come say hello, their smiles wide as they approached the little girl in the sparkling 'Daddy' jersey.
"Look who we have here," Tee said, bending down to give Amara a high five. "Little Miss MVP herself."
Ja'Marr chuckled, ruffling her curls. "You ready to help us win today, Coach?"
"Yes!" Amara exclaimed, her eyes shining with excitement.
"That's what I like to hear, Coach," Joe said, coming up behind his teammates, his eyes crinkling with pride as he looked at Amara. "You two keep the good vibes coming, okay?" He kissed you and Amara on the cheek.
"You got any tips for us, Coach?" Tee asked, playfully bumping fists with Amara.
Amara nodded solemnly. "You gotta catch the ball, Uncle Tee," she said, her arms resting on her hips. The spitting image of her father's mannerisms.
"Just me?" Tee feigned shock, his smile growing wider. "What about Ja'Marr?"
Amara giggled, her eyes shifting to the other player. "You too, Uncle Ja'Marr. You gotta run really fast!"
The two men laughed, their ease a testament to their years playing together. "We'll keep that in mind," Joe said, hoisting Amara up and spinning her around. She squealed with delight, and you felt a warmth spread through your chest, watching the love between your husband and daughter.
After a few more minutes of conversation with the teammates, Joe set Amara down and kissed her cheek. "I got to go, pumpkin. But I'll see you after the game, okay?"
"Good luck, Daddy!" Amara shouted as Joe jogged back to the field, her voice carrying over the noise of the growing crowd.
You took a deep breath, your eyes following your husband until he disappeared into the sea of players. Then you turned your attention to your daughter, who was now bouncing up and down with excitement. "Come on, let's get to our seats so we can watch Daddy play," you said, taking Amara's hand and leading her through the bustling corridors of the stadium.
The two of you made your way to the luxury suite reserved for the families of the Bengals' players. The walls were adorned with photos of past games and memorabilia, differing from the chaotic energy outside. The suite was filled with other families, their laughter and excitement creating an infectious buzz.
You and Amara found your seats, the plush couches offering a cozy spot to join Joe's parents. The view was breathtaking, the field stretching out before you like a green canvas waiting for history to be painted upon it. As you settled in, your phone buzzed with a text from your sister, asking if you had arrived and if you had seen Joe yet. You replied with a photo of Amara in her jersey, her cheeks rosy from the excitement, and a thumbs up.
The game kicked off, and the roar of the crowd filled the stadium. The players on the field were mere dots of color moving swiftly, their movements precise and powerful. Each play was met with cheers or gasps from the spectators, and even Amara, with her limited understanding of the sport, knew to clap when the crowd did. You held your breath every time Joe took the field, your heart racing in sync with the clock. The tension in the suite grew with every pass thrown, every tackle made.
Throughout the game, Amara remained glued to your side, her eyes rarely leaving the screens broadcasting the action. She munched on her snacks, sipped her juice, and whispered questions about the game that you did your best to answer. Despite the excitement, you noticed her daughter's eyelids growing heavy. The excitement of the day was taking its toll, and the warmth of the suite only added to her sleepiness.
As the fourth quarter approached, the game grew tense. The score was close, and every play could be the deciding factor. You held your breath, your heart in your throat. The other families in the suite mirrored your anxiety, your faces a mix of hope and fear. The air was thick with anticipation, the only sounds the occasional murmur of a prayer or a shout of encouragement for the players on the field.
Amara leaned heavily against you, her eyes drooping. You knew it was only a matter of time before your little girl succumbed to the call of slumber. You cuddled her closer, whispering reassurances that Joe and his team would pull through.
On the field, Joe played with a fiery determination that was palpable even from their lofty perch. Each pass thrown, each yard gained, brought them one step closer to victory. The clock ticked down, each second feeling like an eternity. With less than five minutes left, the Bengals were 2nd and goal, the crowd anxious with anticipation.
Amara's eyes fluttered closed, lulled by the steady rhythm of the game and the warmth of your embrace. You held her tightly, whispering words of encouragement to Joe through the glass, as if he could hear her. You watched as Joe took the final snap, his eyes scanning the field, his body poised and ready. The crowd held their breath as Joe threw a Hail Mary pass, the ball soaring through the air with practiced precision. It was caught by Joe's favorite target, Ja'Marr, in the end zone, sealing the Bengals' win.
The suite erupted in cheers, the sound deafening as confetti rained from the ceiling. Amara stirred in her sleep, mumbling something incoherent. You felt a mix of relief and elation as the scoreboard flashed in victory. They were going to the Super Bowl. The final whistle blew, and the players on the field hugged and high-fived, their faces a blend of exhaustion and triumph.
You made your way down to the area outside of the locker rooms. Amara's head resting on your shoulder, sleeping peacefully. As Joe emerged from the lockers, his eyes searched the suite until they found your eyes. He waved, a grin stretching across his face. You felt a surge of love and pride as you returned the gesture, your voice lost in the mess of the crowd. The other players dispersed to their families, but Joe's gaze remained fixed on you. He made his way over, dodging well-wishers and reporters.
When he reached you, he leaned in to give you a kiss. "We're goin' to the Super Bowl, baby," he whispered, his voice hoarse from shouting on the field.
Your eyes shone with unshed tears. "I'm so proud of you," you murmured, your voice thick with emotion.
Joe's grin grew wider as he turned to Amara, whose eyes had snapped open at the sound of her father's voice. "Did you win, Daddy?" she asked, her sleepiness forgotten.
"We did, baby girl," Joe said, scooping her up in his arms. He held her close, the joy of the moment reflected in both their faces. "Couldn't have done it without your help, Coach."
Amara giggled, her tiny hands clapping together excitedly. "I'm proud of you, Daddy," she said, her voice muffled by the fabric of his shirt. Your heart swelled with love as you watched them, feeling the warmth of their bond.
As Joe started to transfer her back to you and walk towards the podium for his post-game press conference, Amara tugged on his arm. "Can I go with you?" she asked, her eyes hopeful.
You looked at Joe, a hint of uncertainty in your gaze. "It's okay," Joe assured you, setting Amara down. "Let's go, Coach." He took his daughter's hand, and she beamed up at him.
The press conference room was a whirlwind of flashing cameras and eager reporters. Joe sat down at the podium, and Amara climbed into his lap. She looked around at the unfamiliar faces with wide eyes, but she remained still and silent, as if she understood the gravity of the situation. You took a spot at the back of the room, your heart beating a little faster than normal. You knew your daughter was a little star, but you didn't want to steal the spotlight from your husband's moment of triumph.
As Joe fielded questions about the game-winning play and his thoughts on heading to the Super Bowl, Amara studied the microphones and notebooks with curiosity. Her tiny hand rested on her father's forearm, her thumb tracing patterns on the fabric of his shirt. The room was still but you could see the way Joe's gaze kept flickering down to your daughter, a silent reassurance passing between them.
When the questions shifted to Joe's family life and how they supported him, he didn't miss a beat. "They're everything," he said, his voice earnest. "My wife, she's my rock. And my little coach here," he leaned down to poke at Amara's tummy, "Keeps me on my toes." The room melted at the sight of the quarterback with his daughter, and a round of 'awes' echoed through the room.
Amara, sensing the shift in attention, straightened up, giggling as she looked around, a hint of shyness creeping into her expression. She was used to her father's games, but this was new, even for her. She leaned into Joe's side, her thumb returning to her favorite spot on his shirt.
You watched from the back, a proud smile on your face. Your heart swelled as Joe spoke about you, your bond, and your life together. It was a rare moment of vulnerability from your husband, who was usually so focused on the game.
One of the reporters leaned in. "And what does it mean to you, having your daughter here today, watching you play?"
Joe's eyes lit up as he looked down at Amara. "It's incredible. She's my biggest fan and my biggest motivation." He ruffled her hair, and she giggled, looking up at him adoringly. "I want her to know that she can do anything she sets her mind to, just like her mom and me."
The room was silent, the cameras capturing the tender moment. You felt a tear slide down your cheek, and you quickly brushed it away, not wanting to distract from Joe's moment. You knew he meant every word, your family's love and support were what kept him going through every game.
As the press conference came to a close, Joe hoisted Amara up in the air, her giggles filling the room. He turned to the reporters, his smile never faltering. "Alright, that's all I got today. I have to get this one back to her mother."
They made their way back through the crowd, Joe's hand on Amara's back, guiding her through the throng of people. You felt a mix of excitement and fatigue, your body still buzzing from the win. The ride home was a blur of congratulatory texts and calls from friends and family. Honks from passing cars and shouts of "Who Dey!" filled the streets as they drove through the city.
At the house, Robin and Jimmy had already set the table with a spread of Joe's favorite post-game meal: a hearty pasta dish and garlic bread, with a bottle of wine chilling in an ice bucket for later. "We figured you'd be too tired to cook," Robin said, giving you a warm smile.
"You guys are the best," you said, looking over at Amara wrapped in Joe's arms. The little girl yawned and leaned her head on his chest, already nodding off to sleep.
"Let's get her to bed," Joe suggested, his own energy waning. "Thank you so much for this, Mom, Dad. It means a lot."
You took Amara from Joe's arms, cradling her sleeping form against her chest. "No problem," Jimmy said, patting his son on the back. "We're gonna head off to bed. But you two enjoy the rest of the night."
You climbed the stairs, whispering sweet nothings to keep Amara calm as Joe trailed along, his arm slung over your shoulder. In her room, you carefully laid your daughter down on the bed, whispering a final goodnight. Amara's eyes remained closed, her breathing deep and even. Joe leaned over to kiss his daughter's forehead.
"You okay?" You asked, looking into his tired eyes as you finally made your way up to your room after eating and clearing the dishes.
Joe nodded, his smile a bit weary. "Just can't believe we're going to the Super Bowl," he murmured, sitting on the edge of the bed. He stood up and took your hand, pulling you closer into his warm chest. "Thank you for being here, for supporting me through everything."
Your arms wrapped around his neck, heart swelling with love. "And I always will, baby," you said, standing on your toes to kiss his cheek. You felt the weight of the day's excitement slowly start to lift from your shoulders. The quiet of your room, the gentle hum of the city outside your windows, it was all you needed to feel at peace.
You changed into comfortable clothes, Joe slipping into a loose t-shirt and sweatpants while you donned your favorite oversized sweatshirt. You cradled Joe's head on your chest, fingers scratching at his scalp as he drifted in and out of sleep. His breathing grew deep and steady, the tension of the day slowly leaving his body.
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heavyhitterheaux · 21 days ago
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Black, Purple, and Blue
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AN: fluffy goodness 😘💕
Synopsis: The amount of times your husband gets hit during the Ravens game quickly has you concerned, but he tries to reassure you that there is nothing to worry about
Pairing: Husband!Joe Burrow x Wife!Reader
Requested by: a beautiful anon 😍
Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere
Hit after hit after hit
You watched your husband get pummeled to the ground multiple times against the Ravens from the comfort of your bed at your home in Cincinnati and it seemed as if there was no end in sight. Multiple people had asked if you wanted to watch the game with them, but you quickly decided against it. You would rather be at home by yourself and not be at some random bar hearing people drunk off their asses talking about your husband if he were to lose.
A fight almost ensued between you and another fan during Joe’s second season with the Bengals and from that point on, you knew it wasn’t even worth your time. You knew Joe was an amazing quarterback and his stats proved it despite what people may say about him.
The game was not moving in the direction that you originally thought, but despite this you still held onto hope since the score was so close.
Joe had confessed to you earlier in the week how anxious and nervous he was for this game and it was to be expected. They were playing in Baltimore on their turf, but seeing how the Ravens caused them an upset at home, it would only be right if the Bengals did the same thing.
Joe was always focused during the season, but it went to a different level when he was playing any team within the same division as the Bengals were.
When the Ravens had gotten the ball back, the camera suddenly cut to the Bengals sideline and you could see Joe wincing in pain as he was holding the left side of his body, Silently cursing to yourself before letting out a sigh, the wheels in your head began to turn and immediately thought the worst.
This time last year as he was playing the Ravens, he sustained his wrist injury that put him out for the rest of the season and the last thing you wanted was for him to go through that all over again. You saw the way it bothered him deep down, even though he thought he was being good at putting up a front for you.
Being married for a total of four years, you could see right through his bullshit and could immediately tell when something was off with him.
You took a sip of your strawberry flavored Truly as you saw Joe throw to Ja’Marr and end up with a touchdown and quickly placed it back down on the table in order to celebrate.
But now, it was time for your nerves to be turned up to another level because you saw them wanting to go for a two point conversion.
“You cannot be fucking serious right now.” You quietly said out loud, even though there was no one in the room but you.
During the play, someone on the Ravens defense had pulled Joe’s face mask and you were yelling at the television seeing as how they never even called it.
Suddenly, your phone rang next to you and you debated on whether you should answer it until you saw that it was your cousin Yalisa. Clicking accept, the first thing you heard was her yelling.
“Y/N! WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK IS GOING ON IN THIS GAME?! DO YOU SEE HOW MANY CALLS THEY MISSED?! And not them beating your husband like he stole something.”
“I’m so over this, I don’t even know anymore. It seems like they are personally working against them. Did you see him grab Joe’s face mask?”
“Yes! And that’s why I called you! Are the refs blind?!”
“Um, the only names I’ve heard all night are Joe and Ja’marr. It doesn’t seem like anyone else showed up to play today.”
“See? That’s why Joe is as ripped as he is now because he’s carrying this team on his fucking back!”
“And he keeps wincing, so I’m concerned because he has yet to seek medical attention. He just keeps going back in and I can tell that something is wrong with him.” You quietly said and tried to take a deep breath to help ground you from the uneasy feeling that was creeping in.
“I guess he sees it as he has to go back in because who the fuck else is going to? They are seriously pissing me off. Is this the week that Zac gets fired?” She asked and you immediately stifled a laugh.
“As much as I would like that to become a reality, a lot more things need to change beside that one.”
It was one in the morning when your phone rang alerting you that you had a facetime call from your husband and you immediately answered.
The two of you stared at each other as you noticed Joe was laying down. In order to get more comfortable, he adjusted himself and you once again saw him wince. But before you could say anything about it, you heard his voice.
“I didn’t wake you up did I?” He asked and you simply shook your head no.
“No, and you know I always wait for you to call me before I go to sleep. I have to hear your voice one way or another.”
“And hearing your voice has to be my favorite thing in the world. I just can’t wait until tomorrow when I actually get to hold you.”
“I can’t wait for that either and I am going to fix all your favorite comfort foods and we’ll eat ourselves into a food coma to get through this.” You replied as you brought the comforter higher up your body since you were getting cold.
“While watching rom coms of course.”
“A man that knows a way to my heart.” You told him and he gave you a small smile.
It was quiet for a few seconds and then you spoke up again.
“Baby?”
“Yes?”
“I saw you wincing during the game. I don’t like when you wince.”
“I’m okay, really. It’s not a big deal.”
“Joey, don’t give me that. You got hit multiple times. If something happened then…”
“I promise that I’m okay, just a little sore. I already took the motrin that you slipped in my bag for me earlier.”
“Well someone has to do it seeing as you always forget.”
“True, and I don’t know what I would do without you.”
“Stop! Stop being so cute when you’re so far away and I can’t kiss you until you get back, it’s not fair.” You whined and Joe let out a small laugh.
“You can have all the kisses you want once you see me. Promise.”
“Joey? How are you and do not under any circumstances bullshit me right now because I will be on the first flight to Baltimore if you do.”
The deep sigh he let out before giving you a verbal answer was telling.
“Frustrated.”
“Go on.”
“It seems like there is a disconnect somewhere and I can’t put my finger on it.”
“Cough your coach Zac Taylor cough.”
“Well, that and there is something else. Just haven’t quite figured it out yet.”
“Can I be honest? You are amazing in your own right and even though I know that you already know this, Joey the last thing I ever want to happen is for you to in lack of better words waste your career for an organization that doesn’t quite seem like they value or care about you. Like, my husband is the shit and I’m not being biased. You are one of the best, if not the best, okay now I’m being biased. But, you’re amazing and I just want so much better for you. Do you know how much it hurts to see you so upset every week that you lose knowing that you show up every time for your team and give 100% while others don’t?”
Hearing the front door open from you and Joe’s shared office as you were working on your laptop, you immediately hopped up and ran to the foyer to greet him.
As soon as he spotted you, his bag was thrown to the side as he opened up his arms to embrace you as he placed several kisses on your lips.
When you did bring him in for a hug, once again you saw him wince.
“Joseph….”
“No, stop. I’m fine.”
“Hmm, pull up your shirt.”
“Damn, you want me to fuck you already? I was thinking…” Joe started to say, but you cut him off.
“No! Well yes, but not yet! Lift it.”
“But…”
“NOW.”
Once he did, you saw a black, purple, and blue bruise in the area where his ribs were on the left side and immediately gasped.
“BABY!”
“I’m fine, just a little bruised. I don’t want you to worry yourself.” He told you as he put his shirt back down and grabbed your hand as he kissed the back of it.
“A LITTLE bruise? It literally takes up a very good portion of your torso. And how can I not worry? My husband is a professional football player. Worrying is ingrained in my brain now. It got ingrained when I met you at LSU so stop.”
“Would it make you feel better that I got checked out before we got on our flight to come back home because it was bothering me when I woke up?”
“Yes. Kind of. But still!"
“And I’m fine. I promise like I said, and you're so cute when you worry about me."
"Not cute, I get flustered and pray nothing bad happens to you."
Crossing your arms, you nodded your head as Joe uncrossed them and leaned down to kiss you.
"Nothing is going to happen, and I'm going to need you to relax for me. Now that we got that out of the way, I’m also going to need my wife to lose her clothes.”
519 notes · View notes
starsinthesky5 · 2 months ago
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nothing's gonna hurt you baby II part 1 || joe burrow x reader
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description: loving what you do doesn’t always mean it loves you back—it takes more than it gives sometimes
a/n: oh my GOD this is so long. it wasn’t supposed to be this long 😃😃😃😃. pls don’t hate me lol. this might have been the longest time i spent writing a fic too which is insane but i mean the word count speaks for itself HA. i really hope this isn’t total shit.  but, so sorry I kept you all waiting for so long!! i really hope this was worth the wait :) i took my time with this one!
also, huge huge thank you to @sofferaddict for inspiring a chunk of this fic! you’re ideas and requests were PERFECT and i hope I did them justice :)
warnings: angst, language, allusions to sex, smut at the end  (👨🚲 does this make sense???)
word count: 28.5 k (IM SO SORRY YALL-)
nothings gonna hurt you baby mini series master list (previous parts found here
——————————————————
Walking into Arrowhead Stadium always creates a complex mix of emotions for you; a rich blend of excitement, nervous energy, and uncertainty. It was a feeling that seemed to linger in the air for hours to come, creating an atmosphere charged with both anxiety and thrill. This mix was a given considering the matchup that was taking place, Joe Burrow vs Patrick Mahomes. It was two of the best in the league going against each other, a rivalry that had captivated the entire football community and had become one of the most talked-about spectacles in recent years. Whenever the Bengals went head-to-head with the Chiefs, the tension was electrifying yet frightening. But it wasn't about fear of losing—true fans knew the Bengals were the Chiefs' biggest rivals for the past 4 years and were their biggest threats—it was more about fearing how intense this game would be, but that also created excitement. The excitement came from knowing that this matchup promised to deliver an intense, high-energy, and nail-biting game that would leave everyone on the edge of their seats.
However, this time, you were feeling more excited than usual. Normally, you’d be on the verge of throwing up while walking through the concourse at Arrowhead, the bright red seats in the stands acting as a warning sign that forcefully caught your attention as if something urgent or dangerous was about to happen in the next few hours. This time, however, the bright red seats produced a feeling of comfort and nostalgia, like everything was back to normal while also reminding you of the memories you had here in years past (some sweeter than others).
You weren’t sure why, but playing the Chiefs made things feel like they were truly back to normal, despite the terrible loss against the Patriots the week before. Maybe it was because Joe always played his best against KC, so this game might just light that fire inside of him he so desperately needed last week. Or maybe it was because you knew how last week's loss put the entire team on notice so today's performance should be near perfect and push things back on track since they knew what narratives were being tossed around in the media right now. 
Whatever it was, the bottom line was that you felt relaxed and confident—a complete 360 from how you felt last week before the game. 
And you weren’t the only one who felt this way today. Joe did too. 
For real this time. 
Flashback to last night 
“I miss you,” he softly said over the phone and pouted as you moved your phone back into your view and flipped over to your stomach on your bed. 
“I just saw you a few hours ago,” you giggled. “I drove you to the airport,”. 
“Yeah, I know,” he said while leaning back against his hotel bed's headrest. “But I miss touching you and feeling you next to me. That thing we did in the car was nice but that only made me more…you know…after we were done. I just miss you, all of you,”. 
You felt your cheeks heat up at his words, remembering in vivid detail what transpired in the car before he left to go board the plane. What started as an innocent goodbye kiss quickly turned into a heated exchange that led to Joe pulling you to the backseat of the Porsche and having his way with you. Even though it had been a few hours, you could still practically feel his hand gripping your thigh right now, feel his hot breath against your ear, hearing his raspy voice chant your name breathlessly over and over. That’s how dazed you still were. 
“Simmer down, Burrow. Gotta save that energy for tomorrow,” you smiled. 
“I can’t help it when my girlfriend is the most beautiful woman on the planet,” he winked while threading his fingers through his frosted tips. “You're not just beautiful, you’re magnetic. There's something about you that draws me in and doesn’t let me go, not just your looks but the way you carry yourself–confident, sexy, and undeniably captivating. Your eyes are like liquor and your body’s like gold. One thing makes me drunk to the point where I lose all sense and the other makes me greedy for more,”. 
“Joeee,” you shied away from the camera and smiled, then hid your face in the soft pillow that smelled exactly like him–crisp and clean, with a hint of his natural musk, and a little spicy–which only made you miss him even more and caused your smile to drop. 
Yeah, you missed him too. How could you not? You had gotten so used to having him around all the time during the past 10 months and all of a sudden he’s not and is spending the majority of his time at the facility, that wasn’t something you were getting used to just yet. You were beyond excited that he could now do what he loved which he had been missing for far too long, but you missed him. You missed those peaceful evenings that you two spent together, wrapped up in each other’s embrace, and lounging on the couch while watching a silly movie. You missed those mornings when you’d get to wake up to his adorable smile and gentle kisses. You missed those late nights you two spent out in the backyard, staring up at the stars and talking about life. Now that football had fully begun, these things would become sporadic and you couldn’t help but miss him every single second he was away from you, even if you had just seen him just a few hours ago like today. 
“What? It’s true,” he smirked, snapping you out of your trance. “I can’t stay away from you, you know that. I just wanna be around you all the time because of the way you make me feel,”.
He wanted to be around you, he really did. But this is what he’d have to deal with for the next 5 to 6 months and it killed him to not spend as much time with you as he wished. The past 10 months were a blessing in disguise for him; even though he was far away from what he loved to do, he was with the person he loved to love. That’s all that mattered.
But now he was close to what he loved to do, but a little further from the person he loved to love–and that sucked. 
“Oh really? How do I make you feel?” you asked while peeking up from the pillow with a cheeky grin.
“Hmm,” he hummed and raised his eyebrow as he pretended to think about how you made him feel. He really didn’t need to think about it, the way you made him feel was so obvious to the point where even everyone around him could see it. 
Just that afternoon, after Joe finally got out of the car and made his way to the plane, Ja’marr and Tee noticed that Joe looked happier, livelier, and more radiant than normal. At first, they couldn’t put their finger on what made him feel like that, especially before a game like this where he’d normally be dialed in and visibly numb. But once they saw the Porsche drive away and a girl wave goodbye in the window, they knew exactly what got him to this point. 
They dubbed this the ‘Y/N glow’, a playful name for the look Joe had whenever he was around them and was giving off specific energy, a specific energy that they noticed he had around you. So whenever Joe showed up around the guys with this glow–without you by his side–they knew something must have happened before with you to make him like this. They applauded your talents, nothing could make Joe this visibly happy, not even football. The way he remained like this even when you weren’t around was remarkable, it goes to show the depth of your love for him and the profound impact you had on him.
That’s why Joe wanted to be around you at all times, the way you made him feel was irreplicable and so good that he was addicted to it, to you. You brought a smile to his face by doing the most minimal things, making him feel a genuine happiness that football could never bring him. You always had a way of making him feel better, even when he was so far gone that he didn’t even know how to pull himself out of that hole on his own. He needed you, he always needed you. Last week was the perfect example; he was almost too deep into that hole of anxiety and self-doubt and pushed you away again, but you once again came right in with no limitations and pulled him back out. He was so extremely blessed to have you in his corner, and he knew that. 
“You make me feel like I’ve already won,” he grinned. 
“Won what?” you bit your lip and asked, flipping around onto your back.
“The best trophy anyone can possibly win,”. 
“Are you calling me a trophy girlfriend?” you furrowed your brows and asked. 
“Oh, no. God no,” he laughed. “I mean, I feel like I’ve already won with you. The greatest thing anyone can have in this world is genuine, unconditional love. I have that…with you,” he said, his tone becoming more serious. “Winning you and your love is the greatest trophy, the greatest achievement I could ever have,”. 
“Even greater than a Lombardi?” you asked, a tear forming in your eyes because of the sudden severity of his voice. The combination of his voice and the emotions you were already feeling from being apart from him created a strong mix. If he wasn't currently on Facetime with you, you would’ve found yourself seeking comfort in his pillow, probably crying your eyes out. “Fuck, I miss him,” you thought to yourself. 
“Greater than a Lombardi, MVP, and Hall of Fame induction,” he nodded. 
“Damn, you really love me,” you giggled as you subtly wiped the tear from your eye, trying to prevent him from seeing that you were a little emotional because you didn’t need him to get distracted. 
“Really is an understatement. Loving you is like being on fire because it’s intense, all-consuming, and totally wild. It burns inside me, making my heart and soul come alive. You're the flame I never want to put out, the passion I never want to lose. You're the light in my darkest hours and the warmth in my coldest nights,”.
“You’re so sweet and poetic,” you blushed, giving him a love-struck smile as you gazed deeply into his eyes through the screen.  
“And you’re so damn cute,” he smiled as he got up from his bed to grab his water bottle.
You let out a soft chuckle, your heart swelling because of how gentle, warming, and loving his words directed to you were, “How are you feeling about tomorrow?” you asked, getting up from your bed and walking over to the bathroom to fix your messy hair. 
“Surprisingly good,” he said as he moved around the room, sounds of shuffling and clanking filling the bathroom as you grabbed your brush. “Practice went well, as you know, and I feel pretty good about where I’m at. Physically and Mentally,” he nodded as he came back into the camera view. 
“That’s great, babe,” you smiled, feeling lighter after hearing him say that he feels good mentally. Last week was rough and you did not want to see a repeat of that ever again, especially after how long it took you to calm him down. 
“I was too hard on myself last week, can’t let that happen again or I think I’ll be borderline psychotic by week 18,” he joked. 
As you spoke, a warm, reassuring smile graced your face. "You're absolutely right. It's not healthy to load yourself with so much pressure. What's important is that you're giving it your all. I want you to know that I'm genuinely proud of you no matter what," you said gently, your hand reaching up to brush back a loose strand of hair.
“Thanks, Y/N,” he smiled. “Kansas City’s always a good game regardless. Tomorrow should be good. Not an easy game, but good. Unlike last week, I feel relaxed and confident. Since I’ve gotten hit a few times, that’s put my mind at ease about the wrist a little bit and I feel good. I’m hoping tomorrow’s game will bring that fire back into the guys, and even me,” he said before unscrewing the cap of his water and taking a big sip. 
“I know it will,” you said while grabbing a hair clip. “At least we know Ja’marr will be fired up no matter what,” you giggled, referring to Ja’marrs long-lasting beef with the entirety of Kansas City. 
He let out a soft laugh, “Ohhh yeah. He’s amped up for sure,”. He closed his water before returning to the camera with a cheeky grin, “I am too, to be honest, but not only because we’re playing the Chiefs. I’m excited to have you here for the game,”.
“Well, I’m excited to be there for the game,” you winked as you grabbed the phone and went back to the bedroom. “My flight’s in like an hour or so and Emma should be meeting me at the airport so we can fly to Kansas City together,”.
“I’m glad she could fly in for the game and keep you company,” he said, talking about your childhood best friend. “I didn’t want you to be all alone since my parents can’t make it and thank god and my big ass contract for letting me get you guys a suite.. I don’t ever want you sitting in the stands because those fans are intense as hell,”. 
“Tell me about it,” you said, widening your eyes. “They’re so fucking loud on TV and in person, it’s like on a whole other level of rowdy fans. I thought Philly had the rowdiest NFL fans but KC might give them a run for their money,”.
“Mmm, I think Philly still wins in that department,” Joe shook his head and said. "But Kansas City definitely knows how to bring the energy, especially when they're up against the Bengals. It's like they're out there with an extra level of fire and even insanity when they're up against us,”. 
“Well it’s a good thing you’re Joe Cool and can effortlessly cool them off by doing what you do out there,” you grinned, making dramatic hand movements to emphasize your words. 
“Thanks, Y/N,” he chuckled, threading his fingers through his soft frosted tips. “I’m gonna let you go now so you can get to your flight on time. I know you get stressed out at the airport so you should probably leave now to give yourself some grace time,” he smiled. “I think some of the guys are going down to grab something to eat from the conference room so I’m gonna go with them,”. 
"You’re probably right,” you laughed and nodded as you reached down and pulled up your sleek, black carry-on suitcase with silver accents. The suspense of the game weighed heavily on your mind as you spoke, "I don't know if I'll get a chance to talk to you tomorrow before the game, so I just wanted to say that you got this, Joe. I know you do. Remember to keep calm, take a deep breath, and dial in on the field. Don't think about anything else–forget about the roar of the crowd, the flashing cameras of the media, the distracting questions from the reporters. Block it all out and do what you do best out there. It's just you and the football,". 
"I love you so much," Joe said as if he was lost in some trance, his eyes filled with warmth and sincerity, while giving you a tight-lipped smile. You could see the genuine affection in his eyes as he spoke those words. He valued your words, advice, and honesty more than anything else. 
"I love you too," you said, unable to contain your joy as a wide grin spread across your face. Your cheeks flushed with a rosy blush, responding to the intense gaze he fixed on you. His eyes spoke volumes, showing an overwhelming amount of love and endearing infatuation that made your heart flutter.
End of flashback 
Hearing him say that he felt good about today's game, with a confident smile on his face and a sense of determination in his voice, was all you needed to fully relax and feel a weight being lifted off your shoulders. You noticed the way his eyes sparkled with a mix of excitement and focus, and you couldn't help but feel a wave of positive energy. You were genuinely excited about the game this time, it was a completely different feeling than you had before last week's game when doubt and nerves had overshadowed your usual enthusiasm.
“Did I mention how amazing you look right now, Mrs. Burrow?” Emma teased as she snapped you out of your trance. You blinked your eyes a few times and realized you were now standing in your suite for the evening which was facing the Bengals sideline, not knowing when and how you even ended up in there. You looked down and noticed you were holding a glass, seemingly filled with a Vodka Cranberry Cocktail, not even knowing how this drink ended up in your hold. “Damn, he has me in a trance even when he’s not with me,” you thought to yourself as you looked back at Emma. 
“Em…,” you said to her while giving her a look.
“What? I’m just stating the facts, Y/N. I know that ring is coming sooner rather than later,” she winked. “Joe is so down bad obsessed with you, I really don’t think he can go another year without officially officially marking his territory with a big, beautiful diamond ring,”. 
"...Yeah," you giggled and nodded a few seconds later, feeling a little shy all of a sudden at the mention of how obsessed he was with you. The thought of marrying Joe filled your mind with a sense of euphoria and excitement, it was a beautiful dream you craved to turn into reality. The past 5 years with him were nothing short of a fairytale, and you two ruled the kingdom you had built together hand-in-hand with no intention of ever letting go. From the moment you first saw each other, you knew that this relationship would be different; and it was. It was different because you two had a connection that neither of you had ever had with anyone before. A kind of connection that only needed one small spark to fully catch on fire. And that fire burned no matter the circumstance: through the rain, the wind, and anything that threatened to blow it out. 
A connection that felt like it was written in the stars–something cosmic, fated, inescapable. Once those stars aligned, everything clicked into place your lives intertwined in a way that felt as natural as breathing. It wasn’t forced and it certainly wasn’t rushed; it was like you were both simply waiting for the universe to do its thing, to bring you together at the right moment. As time went on, you realized just how deeply ingrained that bond was. It wasn’t just the shared laughs, the stolen kisses, or even the way you could read each other without saying a word. It was the way you stood by each other through the storms, the way you’d hold each other’s hands when the weight of the world was too much to carry alone.
Joe had reassured you of his intent to marry you multiple times which only intensified the significance of Emma's words and made butterflies flutter in your belly. Joe knew you were his forever from the second he saw you, it was only a matter of time before he made it clear to everyone. You twirled a strand of your hair around your finger, feeling a warm blush creeping up your cheeks as you tried to hide your smile. “But he’s focused on ball right now and he knows I don’t care when it happens,”. 
“We’ll see,” Emma grinned, her tone of voice making you suspicious but you decided to let it go knowing this wasn’t the time to pick her brain about this subject. “But seriously, you look hot as hell right now. Best dressed WAG in the league by a long shot and man is Joe going to die when he sees this look. Taylor ain’t got nothing on you today,”.
"Hey," you snapped as your jaw fell, unable to hide your surprise. "No disrespect to Taylor. We love her, and I know she's on the enemy’s side tonight, but listen, her music has been with us through thick and thin, every breakup, situationship, and boyfriend. Without her, I don’t think I would’ve been able to get over James. Not to mention, I think she subconsciously wrote Call it what you want and King of my heart about me and Joe,".
“You’re right, you’re sooo right,” Emma said as she nodded. “But like, you look great,” she smiled as she gestured to your outfit. 
You were wearing a skin-tight, cropped, custom-made, orange Burrow jersey that fit like a baby tee. It was a unique piece, specially made to your measurements and featuring Joe’s name and number. Along with the jersey, you wore your trademark ‘9’ necklace, adding a personal touch to the outfit. The denim mini-skirt complemented the jersey top perfectly, adding a casual yet stylish element to your look. The custom white knee-high boots were a standout feature, with a beautifully embroidered ‘9’ on the bottom by your ankle, fashionably showcasing your team spirit. To top it off, you had a vintage Bengals hat on, completing the outfit with a touch of retro charm. Truth be told, you looked absolutely stunning and it was clear who you were specifically supporting tonight.
“I guess I do,” you smiled, taking a sip of the cocktail that was in your hand. 
You spent the rest of the time watching the pre-game warmups, observing how quickly fans flooded the stadium, and listening to how loud it was getting even though the game hadn’t even started yet. There were hardly any Bengals fans around your suite, honestly, all you saw was a sea of red around the stadium–not really surprising since not everyone wants to make a trip to Kansas City during week 2, especially after that loss last week. 
“Holy Red Kingdom,” Emma said in surprise, raising her eyebrows as she looked down and saw a crowd of Chiefs fans right in front of your suite. 
“Yeah,” you nodded as you looked down with her, your eyes scanning the crowd and only seeing ‘15’s and ‘87’s along with bright red shirts, hats, and jerseys. As you looked around the crowd and glanced down to the right, searching for any signs of orange, you heard loud, obnoxious shouting from below. At first, you thought it was just rowdy fans getting excited for the game about to start in a few minutes. But then the words that followed made you feel uneasy, and you quickly looked in that direction.
“Lookie, Lookie. Looks like we got a little Burrow fan up there,” one of the men said pointing up at you. 
“Really?” another man cackled, looking right up at you, his face contorting to a look of surprise once he saw you. “Oh shit!”. 
“No fucking way,” another man howled. “I didn’t think that joke of a quarterback still had any fans around. Especially after that embarrassing loss last week against the Patriots out of all teams. Like how do you play that bad against the fucking Patriots during Week 1? And wasn’t he all ‘I feel as good as I’ve ever felt in my entire career’ like two weeks ago? It sure as hell didn’t look like it last Sunday,” he laughed. “He was probably lying to save his ass,”. 
“That injury clearly fucked him up for good, there’s no coming back from that. He might as well just call it quits now before he gets hurt again and ends up stuck in the hospital bed, I’ve never seen a more injury-prone quarterback since Andrew Luck, Burrow should stop chasing that trophy and sit back down and think about his health,” he laughed, making a mockery out of Joe’s health and stamina. 
“I mean, it’s not like he had much going for him before the injury anyway. He came into the league as this hotshot, sparkly quarterback but has nothing to show for the hype that’s around him except for an embarrassing Super Bowl loss. Not to mention that he was overpaid by a lot I mean, with that contract you’d think he’d won two Lombardi’s back to back,” the other man laughed. “Bitch thinks he’s Pat Mahomes,” the man shook his head and hollered, earning loud laughs and words of agreement from the other men. 
“Hey!” one of the other men shouted up at you. “You’re supporting the wrong guy, sweet cheeks,” he slurred as he pointed back to the field. “A pretty lady like you needs to show up for a real man like Mahomes or Kelce. Hell, we’re probably better than that pussy, Burrow,” he snarled, the hungry look in his eyes making you feel incredibly uneasy.
“Oooooo,” another man teased. “She does look like she’d look hot in KC red. Not to mention how bangin’ her body is and that ugly orange isn’t doing her tits any justice,”.
Emma's eyes widened in shock as she whispered, "Oh my god," and placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. The lewd comments from the drunk men made you both furious and highly uncomfortable, causing your shoulders to tense up with nervousness.
“Yeahhh,” the other man shouted, “Come sit down here with us, sweetheart. We can help you take that ugly ass Burrow shirt off and give you one of our shirts to wear…but that’s if you’re lucky,” he winks, earning high-fives from the other men for insinuating something like that. 
He was so obviously drunk. They were all drunk. 
Your heart raced in your chest, each beat echoing in your ears as a wave of anxiety washed over you, leaving you paralyzed with hesitation. Your mind raced, desperately searching for the right words or actions in this strange situation. This was uncharted territory for you, something you had never expected having to confront so you had no idea what to say or do. 
“He’s a failure!”. “Complete waste of talent right there!”. “He can’t even throw like he used to!”. “Career went down the toilet as soon as he was drafted to Shittcinati!”. “He’s one hit away from being done for good!”. 
The insults echoed in your mind, each word leaving a harsh mark and adding to the weight on your shoulders you thought you got rid of over the past week. As the crowd quieted for the kickoff, the echoes of their insults lingered. During the chaos, you could only think about Joe, feeling his absence strongly. The hurtful words triggered familiar feelings of anxiety and worry that you had worked hard to overcome before stepping into the stadium and you didn’t know what to do.
“Y/N?” Emma asked as she grabbed your trembling hand. “Are you alright?” she asked as she gave it a gentle squeeze. 
“Y- yeah,” you lied as you felt your eyes well with tears. “I’m fine. It was just a bunch of drunk idiots, n- nothing to worry about,” you said to her while giving her a fake, rehearsed smile as you felt that pit in your stomach you got last week come back. 
“Are you sure? That was fucking disgusting and so uncalled for, I’m sure we can talk to someone and-,”.
“No.” you interrupted her and said, your voice heavy and almost scared. “I really don’t want to make a scene here and I don’t even think those guys knew I’m Joe’s girlfriend. I really don’t want to be the subject of those annoying headlines over this and make things even more distracting for Joe,” you swallowed. 
“But I-,”.
“Emma, please,” you pleaded as you looked into her eyes. “I’m fine,” you lied again, giving her false reassurance by pulling her in for a hug.
You were not fine. Joe. You needed Joe. The one person who could calm you down, get you to relax, the person who would be able to deal with this and shield you from the disgusting comments. “I need you right now,” you thought to yourself as you felt your throat tighten and tears threaten to spill out. You had never experienced anything like this before and although it was just a group of idiotic men that didn’t know you or Joe enough to be saying all of that, it still felt like a punch straight to the gut because the things they were saying were along the same lines of what Joe was saying to you last week, only they were saying it in a harsher more hateful manner. You weren’t even sure if you wanted to tell Joe about this, knowing that it would just become another distraction for him. 
“This is going to be a long game,” you thought to yourself after pulling away from the hug sitting back down in your seat, feeling the urge to shrink away and hide. The pit in your stomach mixed with your growing anxiety left a bitter taste in your mouth, making you feel exactly how you did last week during the game. 
It felt as if the protective bubble shielding you from the raging storm outside had burst, leaving you once again in the middle of the storm, feeling scared, anxious, and on the verge of being swept away by your thoughts.
“Fuck,” you thought to yourself. “I hope this feeling goes away,”. 
A few hours later - End of the Game
It definitely did not go away.
The comments from the drunk fans set the tone for you for the rest of the game. It seemed like everything went downhill from there–for you and for the team. Some exciting, explosive moments had you on your feet but those were tinted by the other, more unpleasant things that happened. 
You found yourself once again on the edge of your seat the entire game, but not because of the thrill or because you had adrenaline coursing through your veins. It was for the exact same reason as last week–you were scared, anxious, and upset. The game was neck and neck, a pure nail-biter as usual, and the Bengals put up one hell of a fight and honestly should have won the game, but they once again couldn’t do it.
They played good and way better than last week, but just not good enough. 
And then it came to Joe. The one person that had been on your mind since the game began. 
Flashback
"Oh my god!" you yelled as you shot up from your chair, your heart palpitating in your chest as you saw Joe go in for the QB sneak. You could see the determination in his eyes as he charged forward, only to get his shoulder rammed into by a defender. In that split second, you knew it was going to be a hard hit. Joe was brought straight to the ground, his helmet knocked off, and he was immediately crushed by several large opposing players. The impact echoed through the stadium as you breathed, praying he’d get up.
“Holy Shit,” Emma gasped next to you, her hand over her mouth. “I hope he’s okay, that looks like it fucking hurt,”. 
“Joe, please be okay,” you whispered to yourself, your entire body feeling as if it was just thrown into a familiar brick wall. Immediately, your mind wandered over to the moments he had gotten injured in the past, and what just happened in that play was very similar to what’s happened before. The feeling you got in your body just now was very similar to how you felt in those moments. It was as if you were thrown into the abyss, had your heart torn from your chest, or stabbed in the stomach. 
“Not again. I can’t do that again. He can’t do that again,” you thought to yourself as you felt your eyes pool with tears. “His fucking helmet flew off, Emma,” you said as you turned to her, your voice trembling and breaths getting shorter. “And…and his shoulder. The way he went down…,”.
“I know, I know,” she said as she rubbed your back, “But look, he’s getting up and he looks fine”. 
You looked back down to the field, watching as Joe grabbed his helmet and stood up with an emotionless look on his face. As you watched him from a distance, you noticed that there was no hint of a limp in his stride, no flexing of his wrist, and no visible signs of shoulder pain. It seemed like he was moving with relaxation and confidence, showing no physical pain as he prepared to rejoin the game.
“See? It’s okay. He’s okay,” she soothed as she swayed you back and forth for comfort. 
“Fuck,” you whispered as you slowly nodded, taking deep breaths to even out your heart rate, “He’s okay…He’s fine…,”. 
“Yeah, he’s fine,” Emma reassured. “Don’t worry so much. Joe’s a tough guy, a play like this isn’t going to hurt him. Especially now since he’s so so much stronger and tougher, ”. 
“You’re right,” you swallowed, trying to calm yourself down by continuing to take deep breaths and using your right hand to gently rub your left hand (the hand which had the veins that led straight to your heart)—a gesture that always calmed you down that Joe discovered. You rubbing your hand didn’t have the same effect as when Joe did it, but it was enough for now. 
“I just- they can’t do that again. He could’ve gotten really hurt,” you mumbled.
Even though he looked calm and normal, you started to feel more and more uneasy. At the same time, you began to taste something bitter in your mouth, and it got stronger with every breath.
End of Flashback
The trauma of witnessing his previous injuries had left you with a bit of PTSD. As a result, every time he fell or moved differently, you experienced intense anxiety and fear, believing that something may be seriously wrong. 
You had hoped that moment was the only time this evening you’d feel like this, but you couldn’t have been more wrong. 
The QB sneak was just one example from this evening.
Flashback 
“Yeah, and I thought about bringing Ryland but he had to go into New York this weekend with his brother for the Cage The Elephant concert,” Emma said as she took a sip of her cocktail. You two were talking about needing to plan a double date with the four of you (you, Joe, Emma, and her Boyfriend). She also mentioned that she wanted to bring him to the game this evening but he already had tickets for the concert with his brother and wished he could have joined you all. 
“Sooo, I take it you two are getting serious,” you giggled, wiggling your eyebrows. 
“What makes you say that?” she asked, taking another sip.
“We never do double dates, Em. Like ever,” you smiled. “Your exes were douches so you never brought them around Joe and me on purpose as a coupley thing but you are with Ryland so something has to be different,”.
“I could say the same thing about you, Mrs. Burrow, Mrs. Quarterback, Mrs. 9, Mrs. Cincinnati, Mrs. Shiesty,” she teased with a silly smile. “You never brought a boyfriend around me like that for the same reason and here we are, sitting in a suite your lover rented for you, watching him play football, while you’re completely decked out in his name and number.  You and Joe are like a package deal. Inseparable, attached at the hip, and so obsessed with one another. You are locked the fuckkkk in and I could not be more happier for you,”. 
“Emmmaaaaa,” you whined, hiding your face out of shyness. 
“I can just hear those wedding bells, Y/N,” she giggled, pulling your hands down. “Here comes the bride,” she sing-songed.
“Rigggghtttt,” you nodded, laughing along with her and glancing back to the field to see if the break was over and to see where your boyfriend was.
You felt your heart drop and a lump forming in your throat as your eyes locked onto Joe, who was standing crouched down on the field. "Oh my god," you choked, the words barely escaping your lips as you shot up from your chair, feeling the adrenaline coursing through your veins. You walked with shaky steps straight to the edge of the suite window, your mind racing with a million thoughts at once.
You saw Joe standing on the field, his back to you, and crouched down; almost as if he was holding his wrist. Your mind quickly flashed back to November 16th, M&T Bank Stadium, the night he got hurt and was in this exact position. “Oh my god,” you said again, this time more panic evident in your voice. 
“What’s wrong?” Emma asked as she looked at you.
“Joe…he looks like he’s holding his wrist?” you mumbled as you moved to the side to see if you could get a better look. “Emma, I think something’s wrong,” you said, feeling a wave of nausea come over you. 
Emma quickly got up from her seat and walked over next to you, taking a look at what you were talking about. “Are you sure?” she asked with a concerned look. 
“It- it looks like it…oh my god,” you said as you felt your throat tighten, then covered your face with your eyes. “No, no, no, this can’t be happening again. Not now,” you sniffled, trying to hold back tears.
Emma continued to look down at Joe with you, her eyes twinkling with amusement and her smile coming back once she got a better view of him. "Ohhhh, Y/N," she laughed next to you, her pleasant voice filling the air. She placed her arm around your shoulder, the warmth of her touch comforting and familiar, and gave you a gentle squeeze.
“What?” you asked her, peeking through your hands.
“Look down,” she said, pointing back down to Joe. 
You moved your hands down and slowly turned to your head to look at him and what you saw was completely unexpected. 
Joe was tying his shoes. 
That’s why he was crouched down. 
"He was... he was tying his shoes?" you whispered, feeling your heart start up again and a wave of relief come over you, which swept away the nausea. The sight of him crouched down, looping the laces and tying them into neat bows, reassured you that everything was okay. You have never been happier to see him tying his shoes, doing such a simple and ordinary task. 
“Looks like it,” she laughed, then looked back at you and saw your face relax. “You okay?”.
“I think so,” you breathed out, watching him stand back up and walk around like nothing happened. “I just got scared for a second. That position seemed a little too familiar for my liking,” you nervously laughed. 
“I get it. This stuff has to be stressful for you because of the wrist. It’s normal to get a bit of PTSD,” she said.
“I think I’ll be dead by Week 18 if I keep freaking out over these things,” you joked, placing your hand over your heart. 
Every time he did something different, like flexing his wrist or crouching down weirdly, rubbing a certain part of his body, or sporting a look of discomfort—you were scared shitless. The thought of him getting injured again and having to go through all the pain and suffering was your biggest nightmare. 
End of Flashback 
Then, it was Ja’marr’s situation on the field, a situation that had quickly escalated as everyone was running on pure adrenaline and anger. 
Even Joe, who usually keeps his calm in these scenarios. 
Flashback
“Ja’marr looks pissed, holy shit,” you said as you looked down onto the field and saw him visibly angry at the Refs. 
“Look at Joe trying to swoop in and save his bestie,” Emma laughed as she pointed towards Joe who was running to Ja’marr, then grabbing him to move him away from the Ref. 
“That’s Joe, all right,” you smiled, “Always being Switzerland,”. 
You watched as the situation on the field seemingly fizzled out after that, but then also watched as things quickly heated up again and Ja’marr was going right back in. You leaned forward in your seat, “What the fuck is even happening? Why is he so livid?” you said. 
“I think it might have been related to the play before but I think the fact that the Ref isn’t talking to him is making it worse,” Emma nodded.
“Yeah,” you said quietly, your eyes widening as you watched Joe come back into the situation, this time his entire body language showing that he was not happy. You watched as he pulled Ja’marr away from the Ref and then tried to speak with the Ref himself, only to be interrupted by Ja’marr again.
“Oh my-,” you began to say before your breath hitched in your throat at the sight of Joe roughly pushing Ja’marr away from him. 
"Holy fuck," Emma said in surprise, her eyes widening as she watched the intense scene unfold on the field. Both of you stood there, observing Joe extending an arm to try to keep Ja'marr away, but it was clear that his efforts weren’t working. Joe had to keep pushing Ja'marr back while also giving him a piece of his mind. "Y/N, I've never seen Joe that aggressive before on the field," she pointed out, her voice laced with concern as she continued to watch the tense exchange between the two players.
“Me either. He always keeps his cool, so something bad must have happened for him to get like this,” you agreed, the sight of Joe getting heated on the field both concerning and slightly enticing for you. 
“I didn’t know Joe got rough like that,” Emma laughed, trying to lighten the vibes by teasing you, and oh was it working.
“Very funny, Em,” you said, sending her an intense look and trying to hide your smile even though you were laughing internally at what she was implying. 
“What? I mean, if he’s like that out there I can’t even imagine how he’s like in-,” she started to say before you interrupted her. 
“Emma!” you laughed, your entire body shaking from your reaction. “He’d kill me if he knew we were talking about this,”.
“So that means what I’m saying is true,” she giggled while raising her eyebrow. 
You tried to hide your smile by gently pressing your lips together, but the corners of your mouth gave you away, turning up in a slight but unmistakable grin. Your cheeks, with a rosy, playful blush, gave off warmth, revealing everything without you needing to say a word.
“Daaaaamn, Joe,” she smiled. “Well at least now I know that you have a good sex life,” she winked. 
“Good? It’s fucking phenomenal,” you nonchalantly mumbled which earned a gasp from Emma. 
“Ahhh,” she shrieked, breaking out into a fit of laughter with you. 
Although you were taking a lighthearted approach to the situation, whatever happened on the field didn’t sit well with you. You weren’t sure what was going on with Ja’marr and although you were worried about him, your attention was mostly on Joe. His visible agitation, a stark contrast to his usual composed presence on the field, was concerning. He always kept his cool whenever things went sideways out there because he didn’t like getting worked up. After all, that diverted his focus, but this time it seemed like he lost all of his ability to keep calm–which only meant one thing. 
It was getting to him. This game was getting to him. 
End of Flashback 
As the game went on, he only got more and more frustrated. You could tell he wasn’t happy with his performance and the team’s performance by his body language and the grim yet frustrated look on his face. 
His unhappiness was justified, this game was brutal and although the Bengals had an answer for every play the Chiefs made, there were too many careless mistakes that ended up costing them the game. One thing in particular that you knew Joe would repeatedly think about was his fumble in the 4th quarter which the Chiefs capitalized on and got a free 6 points from. You knew he’d obsess over that play because it was his mistake that cost them the ball and why they got those points. 
If that fumble return didn’t happen, they had a good chance of winning the game, and you knew that thought would haunt Joe for the rest of the night. 
You felt awful about the entire thing, how the team struggled against them, how Joe struggled against them, how their ignorant mistakes that should’ve been cleared up were costing them this important game. 
And just when you thought it couldn’t get any worse, it did. 
Flashback to the last few seconds of the game 
“I just…I can’t believe we lost,” you said as you blankly stared out onto the field, watching as the clock painfully ticked down. “We were so close…he was so close, I..,” you started to get choked up and said, clutching your ‘9’ necklace in the process. “And he looks so..he looks so sad and disappointed,”. 
Joe.
That is literally all you could think about right now. Not the team, not the fans, not the careless mistakes, not the fact that you lost the game by 1 point and a few bullshit referee calls. 
Just Joe. 
“I know, Y/N. I know,” Emma said as she placed a comforting arm around your shoulder and let you lay your head on her shoulder. 
“And Joe’s probably already beating himself up for this and-,” you began to say before you were interrupted by loud, obnoxious yelling again. 
“How does it feel, girls?” the fan laughed as the same group of men from earlier looked up at you and Emma.
“I swear to fucking god,” Emma whispered before speaking up, “Can you all just shut the fuck up for once in your goddamn lives? Leave her alone you miserable freaks,”. 
“Oooo, someone’s getting defensive,” the other drunk laughed. 
“They seem so sad, awww,” the other man mocked in a child-like voice. “That’s what happens when you support the wrong fucking guy, sweetheart,”.
“He was a shitty quarterback, still is a shitty quarterback, and will forever be a shitty quarterback. You got the short end of the stick, babe,” the other man laughed while raising his cup in the air. “It ain’t too late to switch teams…or switch shirts,” he winked.
“Wait a second,” one of the men said while looking down at his phone. “Holy fuck, look at this y’all,” he said to the other men as he turned his phone around.
“That girl up there is Burrow’s girlfriend. Just came up on my feed,” he said as he glanced up at you and showed you the picture of you and Joe from the sidelines at the last home game which made it onto some sports tabloid. 
“No freaking way!” one of the men obnoxiously laughed. “This bitch is his fucking girlfriend? That’s even more embarrassing for her. Supports a shitty ass team with a lackluster quarterback and is dating him? Man, your standards must be low as fuck,”. 
You held your tongue, clenching your fists to stop yourself from defending Joe and yourself. You didn't want to create a scene, but the want to speak up was strong. Your eyes burned with built-up tears and you knew that if you let them fall, you wouldn't be able to stop. “Please stop,” you thought to yourself, your entire body telling you that you needed to be in Joe’s arms. His warmth, his touch, and his words were what you needed right now. 
"Damn, they’ve been together since his days down in Louisiana. That’s like what? 5 years? Damn, he didn't even bother to put a ring on her finger either. So not only is he a bad football player, but he's also proving to be an even worse boyfriend," one man chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief.
“Or maybe it’s because he doesn’t want to put a ring on her finger. He probably knows she’s a gold digger and is only with him for the money and fame. I mean, look at her? She looks like a slut and is practically asking for all eyes to be on her. Attention whore at it’s finest,” he cackled. 
“Or maybe it’s because Burrow wants to keep his options open. He has to be getting models thrown at him left and right, ain’t no way he hasn’t swooped in on one while being with her. He’s definitely keeping his options open until a hot enough chick comes around and he can ditch this girl. And if one doesn’t, he’ll settle for her and have his homemaker around,” one man laughed. 
“Please…stop,” you whispered, your bottom lip trembling from the anxiety that was spreading through your body. 
“Y/N…let’s just go,” Emma whispered in your ear as she noticed the pain in your eyes. 
“Look at her face, I mean she looks fucking embarrassing,” the man snarled, pointing up at you. “You got something to say or are you as incompetent as your little boyfriend?”. 
“Burrow needs to put that trash to the side and date someone more on his level,” another man howled. “If football doesn’t work for him—which it clearly isn’t because he succckkkkssss,” he yelled. “Fucking a supermodel will give him a lengthy life in the public eye at least,”. 
"Sorry babe, this is what happens when you come into the Reedddddd Kingdommm," the other man said with a sly smile, his voice laced with a hint of mischief as he sang that horrid, cheesy, ear-bleed-inducing tune, his words echoing through your mind along with everything else that was said. 
“Don’t say sorry to her? She knew what she walked into when she showed up in that god-awful number, color, and name,” another man laughed, holding his plastic cup of beer in the air.
You thought he was just raising his cup, but you were so wrong. “Go back to Shittcinnati, slut!” he yelled, throwing his cup at the shield of your suite. 
“Oh my fucking god,” Emma yelled as she quickly pulled you back from the window, both of you watching the cup hit the window and the beer splash everywhere against the shield.
"W- what," you stammered, your voice trembling with fear and confusion. You felt your throat tighten again as panic set in, and your stomach churned with unease. The room seemed to spin as you struggled to make sense of the overwhelming emotions washing over you.
“Hell no, we’re leaving now. This is fucking disgusting,” Emma said as she left your side, grabbed your things, and then led you out of the suite. You were so in shock that it felt like your mind had detached from your body and as if you were watching everything happen from a distance, unable to fully process what was going on.
End of flashback 
You were entirely zoned out for at least 10 minutes as Emma led you down the narrow, dimly lit hallway to the locker room area to see Joe.  It was like you were trapped in a dark, windowless room, the air filled with the smell of sweaty players and damp towels. You didn't know where to go, what to do, or what to say. You felt lost, alone, and out of it, as if the world around you had faded. "What the hell just happened?" you asked yourself, getting lost in the endless abyss that was your thoughts to the point where you barely heard Emma tell you she was going to the bathroom. Your brain wasn’t comprehending what had just happened, but your heart was and it hurt. Their comments hurt, the look in their eyes hurt, and you were hurt. 
“Y/N?” a heavy yet gentle voice said which snapped you back to the present. You turned your head and saw Joe walking towards you, your face quickly turning to a livelier, happier expression to hide your true feelings, he didn’t need to see you like this; not now. His feelings were what you needed to focus on, and given the kind of loss they just had, you knew he had a lot of feelings; yours weren’t as important. 
He pulled you into his chest, tucking your head in his neck and he wrapped his arms around you, “I missed you so much,” he smiled, his strained voice and body telling you how tense he was even if he tried to hide it with his smile.
"I missed you too," you mumbled against him, the rise and fall of his breathing providing a sense of comfort as you felt yourself melt away in the safe bubble that his presence always provided you. The warmth of his embrace surrounded you, and for a moment, everything else faded into the background. 
He let go of your waist and moved his hand up to your cheek, pulling you in for a kiss. His warm lips against yours felt like a breath of fresh air, a breath of fresh air he had no idea you desperately needed. Joe immediately sensed the tension in your body as he kissed you. Normally, you melted into him, but this time your posture was rigid, your shoulders stiff, and your movements hesitant. His lips brushed against yours, but he could feel how dry and cracked they were, a telltale sign you’d been anxiously biting at them for hours. Joe knew this habit all too well; it was something you did when you were nervous, anxious, or lost in thought. 
After lingering for a few seconds, he gently pulled back, his brows furrowed with concern. His eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made it hard to look away. He could see past the surface–the forced calm and the faint smile. There, in the depth of your eyes, he found what you were trying so hard to hide. The pain, the weight of anxiety, the shadows of doubt–he saw it all.
"Something's wrong," he said quietly but firmly, his voice low. He didn’t look away, holding the gaze as if he dared you to deny what he already knew. His hand gently cupped your face, his thumb rubbing your cheek as he waited for you to let him in.
“N- nothing’s wrong,” you said as you gave him a faint smile, your smile and voice not convincing enough. 
“Y/N, I know you. I know you better than you know yourself, remember?” he smiled as he echoed what you said to him last week, “Are you okay?” he asked as he tucked your soft hair behind your ear. 
You stayed quiet for a few seconds, not wanting to burden him with your emotions since you knew he already had enough to deal with on his own. But you knew you had to tell him because you couldn’t deal with this on your own. You needed him.  
“No,” you replied with full honesty, tears pooling in your eyes as you thought about everything that happened again. You stared deeply into his tired blue eyes, noticing that there was something he was hiding from you too. “Are you okay?” you asked him, praying he didn’t brush you off like he did last week. 
“No,” he quickly replied with the same honesty you gave him, his face dropping once he admitted that he wasn’t okay, and you knew exactly why. “But we can talk about that back at home,” he added, a wave of relief washing over you once you heard him say that because that implied he wasn’t going to shut you out again.
“O- okay,” you nodded as you felt him move his hand down to yours, then pull you over to a more secluded area away from the staff, players, and anyone that would overhear anything that was meant to be private. He saw the look in your eyes and that set off a siren in his head, something had happened and you were hiding it from him. 
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Joe asked again softly as he turned to face you, his voice laced with concern. His hand found yours, his fingers gently rubbing circles on the back of your left hand in an absentminded but soothing gesture that he knew would calm you down. “You look shaken up,” he continued, his brow furrowing as his eyes scanned your face for any clue you might give him. “Did something happen that you’re not telling me about?” His voice was gentle, but the worry in his tone was obvious. His thumb traced slow, rhythmic patterns across your knuckles, a silent reassurance that he was here and that he wouldn’t let go until you told him what was weighing on you.
You took a deep breath before looking into his eyes again, seeing that it was just Joe. You could talk to him; you could talk to him about anything because he made it very clear to you that he was always going to be there for you no matter what. He was your safety net, you could fall back and he would catch you every time. 
“Something…something happened up at the suite,” you began to say, Joe’s eyes instantly softening because he knew what you were about to say. His biggest concern, his biggest fear when it came to you and football had come to life. 
You took a deep breath, bracing yourself before beginning to remember everything. The words came out slowly at first, but once you started, it felt like a dam had burst. You told Joe everything–their horrible comments, their slurred insults, the throwing of the drink (which really pissed Joe off), and the crude remarks they’d made about you both. Every vile comment they tossed around about you, about your relationship, seemed to sting more as you repeated them. 
Joe stood silently, his face a mixture of pain and anger, but his hand never left yours. As you spoke, you could feel the tremble in your voice, the knot tightening in your chest as you tried to fight back your tears. It was clear that repeating everything was breaking something inside you. You paused for a moment, your voice cracking as you glanced up at him and tried to read his reaction.
It broke Joe’s heart to see you like this, struggling to hold yourself together. His chest tightened as he watched you fight back tears, trying to stay strong while reliving something that clearly hurt you so deeply. Each word you spoke felt like another blow, not just to him, but to you, and it killed him that he hadn’t been there to protect you from it.
“Y/N…I’m so sorry,” he softly said as he pulled you into his arms, your tears threatening to come out from this and the way he rubbed gentle circles around your back. “I’m so-,” he started to say before he got choked up. “I’m so fucking sorry,” he finished. 
“It’s okay, Joe,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper as you hid your face in his chest. 
“No, it’s not,” he said, his voice laced with anger now that he was realizing what happened. 
The fans. The fans of the sport he plays. They hurt the most important, valuable, and special thing in this world. They hurt you.
Joe could feel the anger boiling under his skin as he fought back the urge to go find these assholes and teach them a few things about what happened when they messed with the love of his life. He was also considering going out and finding the head of security or someone who handled these things and ripping one to them, but once he felt how you were shaking in his arms, he let those thoughts go. He knew you needed him more than you needed to see those assholes’ heads on a platter which is why he kept his anger inside and instead focused on comforting you. 
“I’m gonna see if I can get out of this conference so we can just go home,” Joe said after he pressed a comforting kiss to your head. 
“N- No,” you said as you moved your head from his chest. “I don’t want you to skip out on it because of me,”. 
“But baby-,”.
“Joe, no. Please,” you pleaded as you cupped his cheeks and ran your thumbs along his soft skin. “I’m going to be fine, I promise. You still have a job to do and I don’t want to take you away from that,” you said as you gave him a small smile.
His heart broke as he saw your bloodshot eyes, knowing he was the reason you were in this situation. He felt so guilty, realizing that if it weren’t for his presence in your life those men wouldn’t have said such awful things to you. 
What hurt him even more was knowing he couldn’t be there for you the way you truly needed. He could listen, but it wasn’t enough. He felt helpless, wanting to fix everything but knowing all he could do right now was hold your hand while you tried not to fall apart.
“Are you sure? I don’t fucking care about standing in front of a bunch of reporters who are going to ask me the same exact question 10 different times. I care about you and making sure you’re okay,” he said as he placed his hands on yours and gave them a gentle squeeze before kissing your palm.
You took a deep breath and then looked back into his eyes, seeing deep anger & sadness in them. Although you wanted him to skip and comfort you, you didn’t want to take him away from what he had to do. You never wanted to take him away from football. “Positive. Go do what you have to do, I’m going to be fine. Besides, I should get going for my flight,” you said, trying to give him a reassuring smile.
He took a deep breath as he felt himself being pulled in two different directions. He wanted to stay with you so badly but one, he knew you wouldn’t let him, and two, he wasn’t even sure if he was allowed to skip the conference. He gave himself a mental slap out of guilt for leaving you before giving you a small nod, “Okay,” he said. “I’ll see you in a few hours,” he added as he pulled you back into his embrace. “I love you,” he said as he dropped a kiss on your forehead. 
You pressed a gentle kiss against his neck before tucking your head back into his chest, “I love you too,” you mumbled. The heat of his skin radiated against your cheek, and it only made you feel worse. You knew that the warmth wasn't just physical; it mirrored the anger and frustration building inside him, the emotions he was trying to hold back for you.
“Nothing’s gonna hurt you, baby,” he whispered in your ear before holding you tighter. “Not as long as I’m here,”. 
You took another deep breath as you felt yourself melt away in his arms, wishing for him to never let go because this hug was the only time you felt at ease all day, but you always had the worst luck. 
“I gotta go,” he said softly, pulling away from the hug. The look on your face stopped him for a few seconds–it was a mix of hurt and longing that pulled at his heart. Every instinct in him screamed to pull you back into his arms and never let go, but he forced himself to step away, even though it felt like the hardest thing he’d ever done.
“Okay,” you nodded, looking down at your feet as you took another deep breath and tried to hold back your tears for maybe the 50th time in the past hour.
He used his hand to lift your chin up before cupping your cheek again and pulling you in for another kiss, this one filled with passion & reassurance. As he pulled away, he whispered “Everything’s going to be alright,” against your pink lips. “I promise,”.  
Just before stepping into the conference room, he looked back at you. His heart dropped as he saw you close your eyes and take a deep breath, your hands subtly moving to wipe away the tears you thought you had hidden from him. 
“I hate this fucking city. She doesn’t deserve any of this,” Joe thought to himself as he turned around and walked into the room, the tension in his body palpable as he struggled to keep his cool. 
No one could disrespect you like that and get away with it. Joe wasn’t going to let it happen, even though he knew you didn’t want him to say anything because you wanted to avoid a scene. His protective instinct was stronger than his desire to keep the peace, it was always that way with you.
A half-hour later 
The next half-hour passed by quickly and before you knew it, you were back on the plane and heading home. Joe had chartered you and Emma a private plane for your trip home and at first, you were slightly annoyed by his grandness–telling him that you didn’t need all this and that you were just a girl and could go on a normal flight like everyone else–but now had gained a new-found appreciation because you really didn’t want to be around other people right now. This private flight gave you the quietness you so badly needed, or so you thought. 
You changed into something more comfortable, slipping into one of his sweatshirts that still carried his comforting scent, a comfort that helped calm you for the moment. Emma was curled up in the back, taking a power nap while you scrolled through your phone, watching clips from the game. The familiar sounds and sights provided a distraction, even if just for a little while.
You found yourself laughing at a clip of Joe making a funny face on the sidelines, “His football faces are hysterical,” you mumbled to yourself before you saw a notification pop up on your screen.
It was a text from your sister with a link to a tweet. 
your sister: link 🔗 
your sister: what’s going on??
You raised your eyebrow out of confusion before tapping on the link, your eyes widening as you saw the caption of the video that was tweeted. 
“Click here to see a rare statement made by Joe Burrow regarding his personal life and his girlfriend, Y/N,”. 
“Oh, fuck,” you whispered, feeling your stomach churn. A wave of nausea washed over you, tightening your insides and catching you off guard. 
When you clicked on the video, you felt the wave of sadness come back as you saw Joe standing at the podium. He looked tired and worn out, with his face showing how exhausted and defeated he felt. As you watched him, you felt a sense of worry and concern, realizing the seriousness of the situation. 
"How frustrating is this loss, Joe?" a reporter asked him.
You watched him take a deep breath before answering the question, hesitance clear in his body language. “As frustrating as I’ve had,” his words were weighed down by the burden he carried in his heart. “This one stings a bit, we just couldn’t get it done. Felt good about the game plan, I was seeing it well…uhh..you know, just didn’t do enough to get it done,”. 
You had a single tear running down your cheek, showing that the strong emotions you were trying to hold back were breaking through the wall you built. His words painted a picture of pain, a picture of pain you had never seen. He wasn’t acting like his usual self and you had never seen him so low after a loss, and that’s including the Super Bowl. Was this because of you? Or was this because of the game?
Whatever it was, you could tell he was hurting. He was hurting badly.
“Where do you go from here? 0-2 isn’t unfamiliar territory for you, but where does Joe Burrow go from here? How are you feeling? What is the level of urgency?” another reporter asked him, Joe’s eyes dropping down to the side as he avoided looking into the reporter’s eyes.
“I need to give him a hug,” you thought to yourself as you let out a soft sob. You just wanted to take all of his pain away, he didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve to feel like he let anyone down like this loss was all on him. He didn’t deserve to hurt like this. 
“Uhh,” he nervously mumbled. “I still feel good, you know…There’s a lot of work to be done, a lot of things to fix,” he sighed as he looked down for a few seconds. “The urgency is very high. We just need to go out and get a win. We have to do better, I…I have to do better,” he added, his shaky voice breaking your heart. His voice cracked on the last part, a sound you hadn’t heard from him before. It was subtle, but enough to break your heart. The vulnerability was right there just beneath the surface like he was walking on the fine line between keeping it together and falling apart. His eyes shimmered in the bright lights of the room–though no tears fell–and for a second, you thought he might break, but he held it in. 
What you saw was the kind of pain that came from someone who felt like they were carrying the world on their shoulders and didn’t know how much longer they could keep standing.
The clip then cut to the end of his press conference. Usually, he’d glance around the room before saying, “Thanks guys” and walking off the podium, but this time he didn’t exactly do that. He did his normal look around the room, but instead of walking off, he spoke up again. 
“Before I go, I just wanted to say something and I know this is very uncharacteristic of me but this is the only way I could think of getting this across,” he said as he looked around the room for nods of approval, which he got. 
He couldn’t keep it in, he had to say something. 
“I know I usually don’t talk about my private life or my girlfriend, Y/N,” he said as his eyes drooped to the floor but quickly moved back up. “And I do that to protect her and a part of my life that I keep very close to my heart, but silence can only protect things for so long. She’s been to every single one of my games for the past 5 years and not once has she ever felt scared, harassed, and disrespected–but she did tonight and I couldn’t do anything to help her.
So that’s why I need to say this,” he continued, his voice becoming stronger and more determined. “If you have something to say about me, my career, my life–literally anything,” he paused, gripping the podium even tighter as if it were the only thing keeping his emotions in check. “Say it to my face.”
There was fierceness in his tone now, a protective edge that cut through the room. “Y/N didn’t sign up for this life. I did,” he said, his voice stable and full of confidence. His eyes scanned the crowd, daring anyone to say anything to him. 
“The awful things that were said to her this evening are things I would have never thought would be said to her, but here we are,” he sighed. “And I know you all are probably confused as to what I’m talking about, but there are people out there who know exactly what I’m talking about and that’s what matters. In all the years that she’s been with me, not once has she ever been in this position before, and the fact that this happened here? Tonight?” he added while shaking his head, his piercing eyes now filled with fire. 
“She doesn’t deserve to be treated like this just because she supports me. So from now on, if anyone has something to say, leave her out of it. The fans tonight…they should be ashamed of themselves for harassing a girl that they don’t even know. That’s not going to earn you any brownie points with anyone. It’s just downright disgusting, pathetic, and embarrassing. This woman has been by my side through thick and thin, through every single up and down since my first year at LSU. She knows me better than anyone does, and she’s the single most important thing to me—even more important than football. She’s my support system, my best friend, home in human form, my person,” his eyes darken, anger and protectiveness mixing together. 
“Nobody has the right to make her feel unwelcomed because she’s my girlfriend. Nobody has the right to pass any lewd comments about her. Nobody has the right to say anything about our private relationship. If I ever hear anyone say a single thing about her, I’m not going to just brush it off,” he said, his words as sharp as the look in his eyes. “I protect the things I love which means I will protect her no matter what. Call me out, insult me, trash my name all you want. But I draw the line at Y/N. If you have anything to say, say it to my fucking face. Leave her alone,” he said before pausing for a few seconds. He held the silence that followed for a few more seconds, the severity of what he was saying took everyone by surprise because they had never seen Joe like this. The looks on all their faces told him that they heard him loud and clear even though none of this was directed at them. Then, with a last look at the room, he pushes away from the podium, his broad shoulders tense and stiff from anger, and walks off without another word.
“Oh my god,” you sniffled, wiping away the tears that were rapidly sliding down your cheeks. “Oh my god,”.
You couldn’t believe he actually said something, and he said it so publicly. 
Joe was never one to speak so candidly about his personal life, especially when it came to you. He was always careful, intentionally private, keeping the most intimate parts of his world hidden away from the scrutiny of the outside. It wasn’t that he didn’t want people to know how much he cared about you–if anything, it was the opposite. He knew all too well the potential effects of letting everything out in the open; the extreme opinions, the relentless criticism, the intrusion into your lives that could come crashing down if he let his guard down for even a moment.
He always tried to shield you from that. His love wasn’t about grand displays or public statements; it was in the quiet moments, the gentle looks, and the way he held your hand just a little tighter when the world around him was too loud. He kept you out of the spotlight as much as he could, not because he was ashamed, but because he wanted to protect you from the ugly side of his world–the part that didn’t care about your feelings or boundaries. 
But even Joe knew that silence could only go so far. Eventually, its weight would press down, creating a wall between you and the life he lived every day. And tonight, when you felt disrespected and harassed just for being there for him, it broke the carefully kept distance he’d worked so hard to build.
So now that he had actually said something, you couldn’t help but feel a little worried. You were a lowkey kind of girlfriend; the majority of fans knew you were dating Joe but you were never the kind of girlfriend to flaunt that you had the most desired NFL player wrapped around your finger. What he just did…what he just said put the spotlight on you and you were terrified that this would do more harm than good. Especially for him. 
But you knew that this was Joe. 
Your Joe.
You knew how much he tried to keep this part of his life away from the public eye and the fact that he went out and said something was enough to tell you that he wouldn’t let anything hurt you. He wouldn’t ever do anything to hurt you, he meant what he said. 
Nothing was going to hurt you as long as he was with you. 
An hour or so later 
“I’ll see you soon, okay?” Emma said to you as she pulled you in for a hug, swaying you back and forth on the doorstep of your home. 
“Are you sure you can’t stay until tomorrow?” you asked as you pulled away from the hug.
“I wish I could but you know I have that meeting in the morning,” she pouted as she picked up her bag. 
“Right,” you nodded. “Get some sleep on the flight, okay? It’ll be pretty late by the time you get back home and you need to be fresh tomorrow for your big meeting,” you added.
“You need to get some sleep too, Y/N,” she said while patting your back. “I know Joe is only an hour or so behind you, but you should get some sleep. Today was rough,”. 
You wished you could get some sleep, but your mind was moving at the speed of light right now so sleep was completely out of the question. You were wide awake. “I’ll try,” you lied with a faint smile. You knew Joe would be wide awake too, his brain was probably moving faster than the speed of light and you could just picture him staring out of the plane window, jaw clenched and eyes focused as he thought about everything over and over. He’d go through the motions of what went wrong, then run through it again and try to find ways he could’ve fixed it–even though the game was longgggg over.
But that was just Joe. This was a part of his process and there wasn’t much you could do other than be there for him whenever he got out of his head and needed someone to talk to.
“Don’t worry too much,” she added with a sincere smile. “Everything will be fine as long as you have Joe with you,” she said, her words matching exactly what Joe said to you earlier and what he showed during his press conference. 
“Yeah,” you breathed out, “I know,”.
She was right though, it would be fine as long as he was by your side. You needed to keep reminding yourself that he wouldn’t let anything or anyone hurt you. 
After finishing up your conversation with Emma, you walked her to her waiting Uber and exchanged one last goodbye before watching the car pull away. As you came back into the house, you sank down onto a barstool at the kitchen island, your mind swirling with a mix of emotions and thoughts that needed sorting.
You thought that Joe would most likely be in a mood once he got home since he had all the time on the plane to drive himself insane by reliving the game over and over. You hoped his mood would be slightly better than how it was last week after the game, not knowing if you had it in you to deal with everything if he came home with the same mindset and attitude as last week.
Add the fan situation to the mix and then you had the perfect recipe for a ‘stand-off angry Joe’ who would blame himself for absolutely everything and push you away while he self-destructed. You knew he would blame himself for the drunk idiots and their disgusting words towards you even though it was far from his fault, and you knew that it wouldn’t be easy to get him to move past it. You just couldn’t have him shut you out again, you needed him to talk to you more than anything this time. 
You shook your head, “Stop, Y/N. He said he’d talk to me once he got home and he meant that. He knows that he can’t put himself in that situation again and shut himself down. I don’t need to worry,” reminding yourself of what he said to you earlier and the week before. “If he happens to be in a mood then I just need to do something to stop him from being in a mood. He’ll open up to me on his own terms, I can’t push him too hard,” you nodded as you looked up. 
You wanted to talk to him about everything more than anything, wanted to pick at his brain and allow him to open up to you, but you knew better than to push him too hard. He hated being cornered, but you also couldn’t let him hide under his shell. Easing him into it and allowing him to naturally come to you is what you needed him to do. If he came back in a mood, you knew you’d need something to act as a buffer, something to soak up the weight of his emotions before they pulled him back to the edge like last time. You needed to do something to ease his tension while distracting him for a little bit before he started to unpack the weight of his emotions onto you. 
Your eyes moved to the TV, putting on one of his favorite movies would work, right?
“No, he’d just zone out and think about the game,” you whispered to yourself as you slipped off the barstool. 
Your eyes then moved to the couch, cuddling would work, right?
“Mm, Mm,” you shook your head. “Quiet time and cuddling would let the voices in his head get louder,”. 
Your eyes moved toward the kitchen, and suddenly an idea sparked as your eyes landed on the small orange pumpkin decoration you’d placed by the knives–an early start on your fall decorating. A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as the solution hit you. "Pumpkin pie," you whispered to yourself, a grin rising on your face. "Obviously."
Pumpkin Pie was more than just a dessert for Joe; it was more of a feeling of comfort or a reminder that even when everything felt like it was crumbling, there would still be little joys to be found in the little things. You could never get sick of the childlike smile on his adorable face when he gets the first whiff of cinnamon and nutmeg. You wanted to see him that happy all the time, and you were determined to make that happen. 
“Hopefully that’ll work if he comes back acting like The Hulk,” you giggled as you walked into the pantry and started gathering all the ingredients you’d need to make his favorite dessert. This was a great distraction (for the time being) for him because it would let him drift away from football for a little bit. This was a great distraction for him and an even better distraction for you, even if you didn’t want to admit it. Deep down, you were still shaken up over everything that happened at the game, and sitting in this big, empty house with nothing but your thoughts for company? You knew exactly where that would lead. You had just as much of a tendency to spiral as Joe did, maybe even more than him sometimes. 
You might not have realized that by focusing so much on his emotions, you were ignoring your own. You were used to being the calm and steady support for him, but it took a toll on you. Comforting him and worrying about his stress made you bury your own feelings, convincing yourself that they didn't matter as much as his.
By concentrating on him, you could avoid dealing with your own feelings, which is exactly what you’re doing right now. But eventually, everything you were holding back would catch up with you. For now, it was easier to pretend that baking this pie is enough, that it's the solution to both your problems.
The hour passed by pretty quickly as you worked on the Pie for Joe. You found yourself forgetting about the game as you bounced around the kitchen while you made the sweet dessert for him. Baking was often a big stress reliever for you and you always found yourself letting loose while accidentally covering yourself in loads of flour and sugar. You loved to bake and Joe loved to eat what you baked, it was the perfect dynamic. 
You had placed the Pie in the oven not too long ago and were now cleaning up, the TV in the background however had quickly snapped you out of your playful daze. 
The channel on the TV was showing an analysis of the game and your ears couldn’t help but perk up every time they mentioned Joe. They were showing constant replays of all the moments Joe was frustrated during the game, on the field, and on the sidelines. They were talking about how the Bengals should have won this game and how Joe outperformed Patrick. They were saying that this loss would for sure put a dent into the team’s confidence going forward, even going as far as talking about how their playoff odds were rapidly decreasing as well.
“A bunch of fucking idiots,” you mumbled under your breath as you stared up at the TV, your eyes welling with tears yet again without you even realizing it. How could they count them out so early? How could they count out Joe so early?
Then the TV showed a clip from his post-game press conference which really did it for you because you had to hear him mention the events from earlier that you were trying so hard to ignore. 
“It was just not a good day overall for Joe. He didn’t play as well as he usually does, even made some terrible mistakes that were very unlike him to do…and his post-game conference showed a side of him none of us have ever seen. He seems distracted, unlike how he usually is out on the field. Was last year the last time we saw that ‘Elite QB’ that he claims he is? Is there a bigger issue than the team’s unpreparedness that is affecting his game? Is his personal life burdening him and serving as a distraction?” the analyst said. 
You knew how intense his life was, and how demanding football could be. You had always tried to make things easier for him. But what if in trying to be supportive, you were unknowingly adding to the pressure? 
Was his personal life burdening him? Were you burdening him?
“Why does this always have to happen to him?” you sobbed, the words coming out before you could stop them. It was like the emotional dam you had built had just burst and all the feelings you’d held back for hours–maybe even longer–were rushing out. Your floury hands gripped the counter as your tears fell down and mixed with the sprinkled flour all around the marble top. 
You couldn’t keep it in anymore. The pressure, the criticism Joe was under, it was all so suffocating. Every time he had a bad game or a few bad moments, it was like the world turned against him. People couldn’t wait for him to slip up just so they could tear him down. 
“He works s- so hard, they just don’t get it,” you cried as you wiped your eyes with the back of your hand. “He’s trying so hard, they don’t see how much pressure he puts on himself,”. 
But this wasn’t just about him, it was about you too. The pressure you put on yourself for always being the strong one, being strong for him, was suffocating. You were tired of acting like it didn’t hurt; the comments and the criticism not only about him but about you too. 
“Is it my fault? Am I pushing him too much? When I tell him how great he is and remind him of all the amazing shit he’s done, is that making him feel too pressured to be that guy again?” you sniffled. 
You were starting to blame yourself for everything, which is the last thing you should have been doing. This was far from your fault, but your brain was so clouded by negativity and the lingering words of those drunk men for you to be able to think clearly. All you could see was everything you said to him that could have made him lose his focus and cause all this. You couldn’t see that this was all because of everything else around him—the media, the outside noise. 
“And I shouldn’t have told him about what ha- happened at the suite,” you said as your sobs got louder. “He’s not focused because of me. It’s my fault,” you cried, your breaths getting shorter and shorter as your heart started racing. 
Before you think about anything else, you hear the buzzing sound of the garage opening fill your ears. 
Joe was home. 
“Fuck,” you quickly wiped your tears and switched the TV to a different channel before he came in. He didn’t need to see you like this, especially since you thought that him seeing you like this was the root cause of all of this. You were supposed to be strong, so you needed to act like it. His support system crumbling wasn’t what he needed right now because who would be there for him when he needed someone? 
You heard the door open behind you and quickly fixed your face before you turned around to see him, and what you saw broke your heart again. You immediately noticed the bags under his eyes, the defeated look on his face, and his miserable body language. 
You patted your floury hands on your sweatpants before walking over to him, grabbing his wrist, and pulling him in for a tight hug. You felt him relax against you before you placed a hand around the nape of his neck and pushed his head into the crook of your neck. “Hey,” he whispered against you as you started threading your fingers through his hair. 
“Hi,” you whispered as you placed a kiss on his warm cheek, feeling him let out a breath that sounded like he’d been holding it in for a while. 
“I missed you,” he said while slightly shifting his head to look at you, an adorable boyish pout on his face. 
“I know,” you smiled at him while leaning down to press a kiss to his lips. “I missed you too,”. 
He leaned down to your neck, “Was your flight okay?” he asked you as he peppered it with slow, soft kisses, his gentle touches slowly relieving the tension you had inside of you. 
“Yeah,” you lied, not mentioning how most of it was spent thinking about everything he said in his post-game press conference. “Was your flight okay?” you asked him.
“It was alright,” he sighed. “I didn’t get much sleep so I just killed time by staring out the window or reading that book you got me,” he said. 
“Wait, are you tired?” you asked as you let go of him; thinking that he’d be wide awake was a mistake. Why would he be wide awake? He had a rough game and even rougher post-game, he was probably so tired. 
“No, No,” he shook his head, his hands settling on either side of your hips and preventing you from moving too far away from him. “I’m wide awake but I tried to sleep on the plane just to pass the time. Obviously, that didn’t work though,” he softly laughed, his nose wiggling a few seconds later. “What smells good?” he asked, that childlike smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he caught a whiff of the cinnamon and nutmeg. 
You let out a small giggle before leaning up to press another kiss to his lips, “Pumpkin Pie,” you said a few seconds later, now feeling his hands wrap around your torso. 
“For me?” he asked while raising an eyebrow, a playful smirk rising on his lips. His hand slipped under your shirt, the warmth of his hand radiating through your skin and sending waves of comfort throughout your body. It was as if his touch had the power to quiet every worry in your mind and body, grounding you in a way he didn’t even realize. 
You let out a dramatic sigh, “Nah, it’s for my other 6’3 quarterback boyfriend. He should be coming around in a few minutes,” you teased. 
“Ha. Ha,” he laughed monotonously before continuing, “The only 6’3 quarterback boyfriend you need is already here. Thanks, baby,” he smiled a few seconds later as he pulled you even closer and pulled you up for a kiss. This one was a bit spicier than the others as his lips were instantly tugging on your bottom lip while he casually slipped his tongue into your mouth, earning a soft but sultry moan from you. His laugh vibrated through his chest and into the kiss, a shift in his energy fully visible. It was playful but with an edge. 
“Mmm,” you hummed as you placed your hands on his chest and gently pushed him back. “As much as I would love to keep that going, you’ve got a sweet treat to eat,” you winked.
“Oh,” he said while raising his eyebrows. “Okay, let’s go upstairs then,” he smirked while grabbing your hand and jokingly pulling you towards the stairs. 
“Joeee,” you said while pulling him back. “Not that kind of sweet treat,” you added which you received a pouty look from him in return. “...Okaaaaay, maybe later?”. 
Normally he’d respond with another flirty comment but when he stared into your eyes a little more carefully and noticed how red and puffy they were, all playfulness left his body as all he could think about was the fact that you had likely been crying, likely because of him and he knew that. 
“Y/N…” he began to say before you interrupted him. 
“Come sit down, I’ll pull the Pie out and cut you a slice,” you smiled while grabbing his hand and leading him back over to the kitchen island, not giving him a second to say anything. Even when you were clearly upset, you still were only thinking about him. 
“I don’t deserve her,” he thought to himself as he watched you plaster a smile on your face and focus on him and only him. “I don’t deserve her at all. I feel so guilty for everything that happened to her, especially because it’s all my fault, and she’s still only thinking about me? ”. 
You oftentimes did this, focusing on Joe and only him while ignoring everything else around you. He was the center of your universe and everything else around you faded into the background. This habit of yours formed early on in your relationship back at LSU. Then, it was all about supporting him through his tiring practices, stressful exams, and important games. You devoted yourself to making sure he felt loved, understood, and cared for while he tried to make his mark on the field. 
And now, even after all these years, your habit still hasn’t changed.
Joe saw it every time, the way you focused on him, how you gave him every ounce of your attention all the time. He didn’t say much about it, but you knew he noticed. The look in his eyes would always soften, as if he both loved and hated the fact that you put him first. 
It had been like that through the whirlwind of college football, and now in the glimmer of the NFL spotlight. You were always by his side, pouring all of your energy into him and sometimes leaving none for yourself. He knew you like the back of his hand so he could tell when you were giving more than you could handle. He appreciated you so much, you were his anchor but he worried about you–worried that you carried too much of his weight without letting yourself be vulnerable too. 
Even tonight, when you should’ve been taking care of yourself, you were focused on him–it was always him. It had been this way for so long, and while he knew you’d never stop looking out for him, he hoped that you’d let him do the same for you on the same level you did for him. As much as he needed you, he also knew that you needed him just as much, even if you didn’t always admit it. 
“What did I do to deserve you?” he said again, this time out loud as he slipped onto a barstool and rested his chin on his hand. 
“Great question. You must have done some severe manifestation to bag me,” you teased as you spun around to take out a plate from the cabinet. 
Joe let out a soft chuckle, “Severe manifestation, stalking your Insta for about 2 weeks to see if you had a guy already before asking you out, memorizing your class schedule and your favorite lunch spots so I could ‘accidentally’ run into you…it’s all the same,” but stopped once he saw you take only one plate out from the cabinet. “You’re not eating?” he asked with furrowed eyebrows. 
“Not hungry,” you said while flashing him the fakest smile possible as you placed the plate down in front of him before turning around to pull the Pie out of the oven. Who were you kidding? You were so hungry to the point where you could legit eat one of those fake display fruits people put out. The only thing you’d had to eat today was a bottle of orange juice and a few bites of a banana muffin this morning—other than the Vodka Cran you had during the game. You just didn’t think you could stomach anything during or after the game because your stomach was in literal knots. 
You hoped that he didn’t realize you were lying to him but one thing about Joe was that he could always tell when you were lying to him. He paid extra attention to the little things about you–the sudden lightness in your voice, avoiding eye contact with him, and the oh-so-obvious fake smile. He hated when he noticed these signs because that meant you weren’t being truthful with him for whatever reason. 
Without saying a word, he got up from his chair and walked around the island to the kitchen cabinets. You saw him moving out of the corner of your eye just as you were closing the oven and carefully placing the warm pumpkin pie on the counter.
“What?” he asked you, noticing that you were staring at him as he pulled out another plate and set it on the island next to his. 
“Why’d you take out another one?” you asked him before you moved the Pie plate over to the island and set it near the dinner plates. Joe let out a soft laugh, the adorable crinkles in the corner of his eyes popping out as placed a gentle hand on both sides of your shoulders from behind and walked you back over to the island barstools.
“For you, silly,” he chuckled in your ear, then pressed a quick kiss to your cheek before walking back to the kitchen.
“But I’m not hungry,” you said as your eyes followed him around the kitchen, watching him take out a knife and a can of whipped cream from the fridge. 
“Look at who you’re talking to,” he smiled as he began cutting a slice of Pie. I know you like the back of my hand, Y/N. I know you haven’t eaten anything all day because I know you never eat before or during a game because you want to wait so you can eat with me. Also, you feel like if you eat something you’re going to throw it up during halftime because of your nerves,”. 
Your eyes softened as you watched him set a slice on your plate, and then use the whipped cream to add a small heart on top. 
He knew you and your habits all too well. You shouldn’t be surprised though, this was Joe. He noted and noticed everything about you and had been doing it since the day you first met. It first started off as him noting how you liked your morning coffees before classes (so he could show up at your dorm with it and have an excuse to walk you to class) and noticing how you’d start fidgeting with the birthstone ring on your right hand whenever you felt anxious in crowded public settings (parties, at his practices, his games). Whenever he saw you doing that, he made sure to stop whatever he was doing and tend to your needs–doing whatever you needed him to do without questioning it.
Now, it had led to him noting how you liked your morning protein smoothies (so he could make them for you, obviously) before you went in for your morning workout in the gym he had designed for the both of you in your shared home. And then it was noticing all your little habits, such as fidgeting with the birthstone necklace he gave you—which had his birthstone on it—whenever you felt anxious now. 
Reminding yourself of how beautifully things had changed and flourished in your relationship, how Joe so easily flipped your entire world upside down by just looking into your eyes one hot afternoon during a football practice you and your friends stumbled into, always brought a smile to your face. Even in moments when you were far from happy.
That was just the Joe effect.  
You watched as he set a slice on his plate, then added whipped cream to his before placing everything down and joining you on the other side of the island. He sat down on his stool and turned to look at you and saw that you were too far from him, which he wasn’t having for even a second. 
“Mm Mm, too far,” he shook his head as he grabbed the beam of your stool and pulled you over, a small shriek leaving your lips at how he easily pulled you over as if he was pulling a feather over. 
Your knees were pretty much bumping into each other, that’s just how close he pulled you over. It was such a small gesture, but the significance was far more deeper. He wanted you close in every single way possible. 
“My big strong man,” you giggled as you placed a hand on his knee, giving it a soft squeeze and then starting to rub it through his sweatpants’ fabric. He leaned over and started peppering featherlight kisses around your jawline and down to your neck, his lips so soft and plush-like. “But I really don’t think I can stomach the Pie regardless of how good it probably is,” you laughed. 
Joe leaned back to stare into your eyes, the redness in them mocking him and his efforts to make you feel better. It was a reminder of how well you hid your feelings from him, something you both had in common. You both would hide your feelings from each other in order to protect each other. He wanted nothing more than to sweep you up in his arms and take away the hurt that hid behind those beautiful, tear-stained eyes, but this was all he could do for you right now without pushing you too much. 
“Please? For me?” he pouted, sticking his bottom lip out and placing his hand over yours which was rubbing his knee. He cupped your hand and flipped it so he could intertwine your fingers, then picked it up and pressed gentle kisses on the back of your hand while staring into your eyes. Both actions cause a feeling of comforting warmth to fill your stomach. 
You really didn’t feel like eating anything, but you did all this to take his mind off the game and lighten his mood, and not doing what he asked wasn’t going to help at all. The pouty look on his face was your biggest weakness so that wasn’t helping either, you could never say no to that adorable face. “Okayyy,” you giggled, giving in to his ask and then seeing his entire body light up when you grabbed the fork. 
“That’s my girl,” he smiled as his baby blue eyes lit up with a warmth that made your heart skip a beat. He then leaned in and pressed another soft kiss to your cheek, the gentle touch lingering long enough for your belly to flutter. 
He then picked up his fork and dug into the pie, taking a big, generous first bite. His face went from playful to pure bliss at the first taste of the cinnamon and pumpkin. “Oh, babyyyy,” he groaned, closing his eyes for a second as he savored the taste. “This is so fucking good,”. 
“That sounds all too familiar,” you smirked while raising an eyebrow at the sounds and words that left his mouth. 
“Dirty dirty mind,” he shook his head and laughed while chewing on the pie in his mouth. 
You smiled as you watched him take more bites of the pie, feeling a bit better because of his reaction. The tension in your body, for a second, seemed to fizzle out as you watched him enjoy what you did for him. The warmth of the kitchen, smell of the fresh pie, and the soft sounds of the TV in the background made everything feel normal again–like a safe space where you both could just be yourselves. 
He took another bite, his eyes darting over to you as you continued to stare at him with hearteyes, “I’m serious, you’ve outdone yourself,” he said, his voice muffled with a mouthful of pie. “Don’t know what I’d do without you..or this pie,” he winked. 
“I love you,” you blushed as you leaned over and pressed a wet kiss to his cheek.
“I love you more, but,” he said as he swallowed the bite in his mouth, “You’re still not eating,”. 
You looked down and saw the fork in your hand and the untouched pie next to you, realizing you were so caught up in watching him that you hadn’t had any of the pie yourself. 
“Oops,” you said while pursing your lips and staring down at the dessert. 
Joe used his fork and stuck it into your pie, slicing a generous piece out before using his other hand to lift your chin. “Open up,” he said, raising his eyebrows and holding the fork in front of your mouth.
You laughed softly, “Seriously?”. The look in his charming eyes told you that he was 100% serious. 
“Come on, you’ve gotta eat something,” he insisted, his tone a mix of teasing and genuine sincerity. He moved the fork closer, allowing the sweet smell of pumpkin to enter your nose while he rested his other hand on your knee this time, squeezing and rubbing just like you were doing to his knee. 
You rolled your eyes before leaning in and opening your mouth to take a bite, the moment the pie touched your tongue you felt the warmth and sweetness explode in your mouth. Man, were you good at baking. 
Joe attentively watched your reaction as you chewed on the slice of pie, a look of satisfaction on his face as he watched you swallow the bite. “See? Isn’t that good?” he asked. 
You nodded, not being able to hide the smile rising on your face. “Yeah, you were right,” you giggled, the spices lingering on your tongue. “That’s soooooooooo good. But I think it tasted even better because you were feeding me,” you winked.
“Well, there’s more cominggggg,” he grinned as he stuck his fork in your pie again and picked up another bite before bringing it up to your mouth. “Woooosh,” the noise coming from his mouth mimicking a rocket ship as he zig-zagged his hand around. 
You smiled and stared at him for a few seconds, your heart swelling at the look in his eyes. It was a look of comfort, of relaxation. Last week, the look in his eyes was cold, it was tense. But this time, it was just filled with ease and love and it was all because of you. 
“Aaaaah,” you said as you opened your mouth for another bite of the delicious pie being fed to you by your favorite person on the planet. 
After letting him feed you the rest of your pie, he gathered your dirty dishes and brought them over to the sink before coming back to his barstool and sitting down next to you again. He leaned over and captured your lips in a sweet kiss, the taste of pumpkin on both your lips making it even sweeter than usual. 
“Mmm, that tasted good,” you hummed as you playfully bumped his knee with yours. You were expecting a flirtatious response from him, somehow roping in the concept of sex into the conversation because he seemed to be in that mood earlier, but instead, he just stayed quiet while staring down at the counter. 
“Uh, oh,” you thought to yourself, your hips squirming in your seat at the sudden change in the atmosphere. It felt as if the room got darker, maybe even colder–just like the inside of Joe’s brain. You brought your hand up and started rubbing his back, “You okay?” you asked, nervously biting your lip because of the look on his face. 
“Yeah, just thinking,” he sighed, placing his hand on your knee again. 
“Thinking about anything in particular?” you said while giving him a heartfelt smile. 
He took a deep breath before responding, “Talk to her, Joe. Don’t push her away again,” he thought to himself. “…D- do you think we can talk about it? About the game?” he quietly asked you, meeting your eyes a few seconds after saying that. 
Joe tried to forget about it, and he did for about half an hour because of you and the pie you made for him. But he knew better than to keep everything in like that, knowing what would happen if all that stayed inside of him and built up. He refused to go back there, especially after getting a flashback of what that felt like last week. 
The sudden change in his voice, his eyes, and his body language threw you for a loop. You thought this would distract him for a bit longer, but it didn’t.
But wait. Why did you want to distract him for longer? You wanted him to open up to you, confide in you. So why did you want him to not think about the game?
Was it because you were the one who didn’t want to talk about it? You didn’t want to unpack those feelings, not his, but your own?
“No. He needs me right now. I can’t let my feelings get in the way,” you thought to yourself, “Be strong for him, Y/N. Stop being selfish.”
“Y- yeah,” you nodded. “What’s going on in your head?” you asked as you slid your hand up to his hair, threading the strands through your fingers while lightly scratching his scalp. 
“I’m just so frustrated, Y/N,” he sighed. “We were supposed to win, we were going to win,”.
“I know,” you said, letting out a shaky breath as your body braced itself for whatever was about to come out of his mouth.
“And I played like total shit. That fumble just gifted them 6 extra points and if I didn’t lose the ball like a fucking idiot, we would have likely won the game,” he said as his eyes welled with tears. “And we’re right back where we were. 0-2 as fucking usual and it’s my fault,” he sniffled. 
“It’s not your fault, Joey,” you frowned. “The whole team could have done better, especially the defense. You did so good, much better than last week,”.
“Not good enough,” he said, his voice laced with self-criticism. “It wasn’t good enough…I wasn’t good enough. I try so hard, you know? I do everything I’m supposed to, even more, 90% of the time. But things..they..they never go my way,” he added, the crack in his voice breaking your heart for the millionth time today. 
“I know, Joe. Trust me, I know,” you said as you lowered your head to catch his eyes. “But you can’t be this hard on yourself, you know that right?”.
“The flags, the Ja’marr thing, the stupid fucking mistakes. It all just went to shit so fucking fast,” he said as he turned to meet your eyes, ignoring what you said. “And our playoff odds keep decreasing which makes this even worse. If we go 0-3, I don’t think-,”.
“Joe, stop,” you said while moving your hand to cup his cheek. “You’re doing it again,”.
“I just…I can’t help it? I just feel like I let everyone down again,” he started to say and quickly kept going once he saw you start to open your mouth to say something. “And I know. I know what you told me last week, I heard you loud and clear. I thought I could go out and get it done this week and I acted like it too. During practice, in the press conference, over the phone to you, in the locker room to the guys–but once again I fucked up, and look at what happened,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper as you saw his bottom lip start to quiver. “I k- know why we lost but I do- don’t at the same time?” he choked out, a single tear falling from his eye and sliding down his cheek. “I did everything I could and I still feel like I’m letting everyone down,” he repeated, his breaths getting shorter. “Especially you,” he whispered. 
You felt your eyes pool with tears, your emotions threatening to spill out as you stared at him. Seeing him like this, weak and questioning himself, was the one thing that could break you into a thousand pieces. He was so confident and strong in the face of adversity but in these quiet moments, those voices in his head were the loudest and he couldn’t help it. The doubts crept in and he started to undermine his success, and that shattered you. 
Watching him struggle with his confidence cut deeper than any of your own insecurities. You knew how much he gave to football, how much he sacrificed for this, how much he loved what he did. It crushed you to see him struggle like this and for a second think that he was letting anyone down. To you, Joe was more than enough–on and off the field–and seeing him question that was making you feel an unbearable amount of pain. 
“Joe,” you whispered, your voice shaky just like his. “You’re not letting anyone down. Especially me, I swear. You don’t see yourself the way I do,”. 
You saw his glossy eyes soften, searching yours for any sort of comfort and relief but as he gazed into your eyes, you knew he could see the emotions you were holding back. The mix of fear and love, concern and support. His vulnerability mirrored your own, and that made this hurt even more.
“I know you feel like you’ve got the weight of the world on your shoulders and it feels like those shoulders are wobbly right now,” you nodded, feeling the tension–the burden of everything he carries both on and off the field radiate through his eyes. “But I promise you, Joe,” you whispered. “You’re strong enough to handle all of this. Even when it feels like too much, even when you doubt yourself. You’ve shown how strong and capable you are time and time again and everyone knows how talented you are. Don’t let one game define a legendary, history-making career, Joe. Don’t let yourself forget who you are. You have all of this because of your talent, your success, and your abilities. You’re the kid from small-town Athens, the third-stringer from Ohio State, the star quarterback of the LSU Tigers, and the franchise quarterback of the Cincinnati Bengals. But most importantly, you’re one of the best to ever step onto that field and hold onto that football. Don’t forget who that kid is, who that boy is, who that man is, and who that player is. I know it feels like you’ve been hitting wall after wall every season, feeling like you’re losing something each time you get onto the field but everything you lose is a step you take,” you said. “You make mistakes, you learn from them, and you revise and get better each time. That’s what you do, Joe,”. 
“Don’t feel pressured to do everything on your own. You don’t need to blame yourself for the loss, you don’t need to blame yourself for the slow start. You don’t have to do this alone,” you continued, your voice raw but completely reassuring. “Everyone’s here with you, Joe. I’m here with you. We’ll carry the weight together, okay?”.
“No.” he shook his head. “You don’t…you won’t do that,” he said, his voice rougher but still laced with a tone that made you want to never stop crying. “I don’t want you in any situation like that, not after what happened today,”. 
You felt your stomach churn at the mention of today’s events. You really didn’t want to go there, but you knew you had no choice. Majority of the reason Joe was upset was because of what you had to deal with during the game. Yeah, he was frustrated about the loss, but the way you were treated made it so much more worse because that was a direct hit to his heart. “Joe, I-,” you began to say before you heard a soft sob come from in front of you.
“I’m s- so sorry, Y/N,” he said as he looked back into your eyes, his tears now fully streaming down his face. “I’m so fucking sorry that you have to deal with all of my shit. And year by year it just keeps getting worse for you and I can’t do anything to stop it. When I first started off in the league, your only worries were if I was able to go out there and throw the ball and have a chance to show everyone what I was capable of. N- now, you have to constantly worry about my in- injuries and what people say about m- me,” he sobbed, his tears falling faster and his body starting to shake. 
You quickly reached out for him, placing your hand on the back of his neck and pulling him over so that he was laying his head on your chest. “Joe, baby,” you whispered, cradling his head as you tried to keep your tears at bay. 
“Y- you had to pick up so much slack every time I g- got hurt,” he cried into your chest as you threaded your fingers through his hair. “You did so much for me that nobody ever saw, nobody will ever see. And they treat you like that? Because they fucking hate m- me?”.
“Shhh, shhh. It’s okay, Joe,” you calmly said to him as you leaned down to press a kiss to his hair. “I’m fine, I swear,” you sniffled, holding back your tears as best as you could.
“N- no,” he continued, “You’re not. I knew you were crying b- before I got home. It was because of me, right? Because of what I said in the press conference?” he asked, looking up at you through his wet, glossy eyes.
Your eyebrows softened, and before you could even find the right words, your eyes said everything for you.
“I knew it,” he continued as he hid his face in your chest again, your shirt fully soaked from his tears. 
“J- Joe…,” you trembled, taking a deep breath before continuing. “Stay strong, Y/N. He needs his support system right now,” you thought to yourself. “Please stop crying, baby. Please? You don’t need to apologize for a single thing,” you continued with a more stable voice. “I know you’re trying to protect me,”. 
“Yes, I do," Joe choked out. "Because now you have to worry about getting insulted and harassed by random fans who have some vendetta against me, but think it’s okay to take it out on y- you." His voice broke, and you could see the guilt flooding his eyes. "You’re the only person who’s truly stuck by my side through everything. You do so much for me, and you don’t deserve to be treated like that but you are, because of me. You had the most awful things said to you and it was all my fucking fault. It was my fault you were crying. It was my fault you couldn’t enjoy the game. It was my fault that earlier after the game, you felt like you had to hide this from me,".
He took a shaky breath, the weight of his words hitting him harder as he continued. "You can’t even go to a fucking game without getting hurt because of me," his shoulders trembled slightly. "I- I’m always hurting you, aren’t I?" he wept, those last four words coming out in a broken whisper as if they physically pained him to say. His grip on you tightened as if you were the only thing holding him together and preventing him from crumbling into a pile of dust.
Hearing him say those words ripped you apart. He was hurting, and it shattered you to think that he saw himself as the cause of your pain. 
“Joe,” you said as you tightened your embrace around him, “You’re not hurting me,” you added as you gently cupped his face with one hand. “You’re not,”.
“You’ve never hurt me, Joe. Not once,” you said as you wiped away the tears that were freely falling down his face. “What those people say, what they do–it’s not your fault. None of that is in your control and it doesn’t, for a second, change how much I care for you. How much I care for this world you’ve built for us,” you blinked your tears away and added. 
Joe shook his head, refusing to accept your words, but you continued on regardless. “You mean everything to me and I’m not going anywhere, no matter what. You’ve never once hurt me in the 5 years we’ve been together. You’ve never given me a reason to think about running for the hills, never given me a reason to ever think about what my life would be like without you. You’ve showered me with so much love, so much happiness that I never thought was possible. You are perfect, Joe. In every aspect. It’s going to take a lot more than just some idiotic, insecure, flawed football bros to get to me and leave your side. Hell, the entirety of Kansas City isn’t even enough to pull me away from you,” you said as you leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Please stop blaming yourself for what other people do. It’s not your fault that the team lost this game and it’s not your fault that some men in this world just have small-dick energy all the time,” the last bit of what you said lighthearted on purpose. 
You notice a small, brief smile begin to form on his face after you finish talking. It was faint, but it was there. Seeing that smile, even just a glimpse of it, filled your chest with relief. Your words had reached him, if only a little. “I love you, Joe. I love you no matter what,” you said while resting your chin on his head and holding him close to your heart as you felt him start to loosen up. 
“I- I love you too,” he whispered against your chest, pushing himself deeper into your embrace and wishing he could just melt into your body and forget about all his worries. 
In that moment, you could feel how much he needed this–how much he needed you. 
Your words and your touch were his anchor, his support. You grounded him when the weight of everything threatened to pull him under and in these quiet moments, that anchor allowed himself to be vulnerable and to lean on you completely. And you were more than willing to hold him up, even if it meant setting your feelings aside. 
You moved your hand to his back, gently rubbing circles around his frame in soothing patterns to ease his discomfort. “I’ve got you,” you whispered softly, feeling his breathing even out second by second. “Nothing’s gonna hurt you, baby,” you whispered before holding him a little tighter. 
An hour later 
You got him to calm down a little, but deep down, you knew this wasn’t something that could be fixed in one conversation. It wasn’t just about losing the game tonight, it was about you. And when it came to you, Joe never played around. This wasn’t going to be an easy thing for him to move past and the look that lingered in his eyes told you that. Honestly, you hadn’t even moved past it yourself. But you didn’t want to unload your feelings onto him, not right now. He needed you to be his rock, his safe place, and you couldn’t let yourself add to the storm swirling in his head.
You brought him upstairs a little after he stopped crying and calmed down. You told him that he needed to shower, not because he stank, but just so he could wash the day off himself. 
While he sat on the bed, you went into the closet and pulled out his favorite pair of sweats, clean boxers, and a comfortable shirt for him and set them inside the bathroom before turning the shower on and setting it to the temperature you knew he loved. You then motioned for him to come inside with a sweet smile on your face. 
“Your shower awaits, my king,” you playfully bowed and said, earning a soft chuckle from him. “Thank god he can still laugh,” you thought to yourself. 
“Thank you,” he rasped with a smile, his voice still scratchy from crying earlier, as he slid off the bed and walked to the bathroom where you were, “My queen,” he added with a soft kiss to your lips. 
After watching him get undressed and slip into the shower, you quietly went back out to grab another shirt to replace the tear-stained one that was clinging to your body. When you stepped back inside, the sound of the water running and the silhouette of Joe moving against the foggy glass filled the space. You walked over to the vanity, setting the shirt down on the counter. For a second, you stood still, gripping the edges of the counter. Your eyes met your own reflection in the mirror and you saw the undeniable tiredness behind them as well as the redness from the tears you shed earlier. Your eyes softened for a second, the urge to start crying coming back but before a tear could fall from your eye, you wiped your eyes, “Hold it together, Y/N,” you whispered to yourself. “He needs you right now,”. 
“Y/N?” a voice from behind you asked. 
You quickly turned around and saw Joe peeking his head out from the shower, his hair soaking wet and water droplets sliding down his body and onto the floor. “Can you come in, please?” he asked with a pout. 
You quietly stared at him for a few seconds before quickly breaking eye contact and flinging your clothes off so you could join him, which resulted in another adorable chuckle from his lips. You needed to wash the day off just as much as he did. 
Once you slipped into the shower with him, the heat of the water instantly embraced you. Before you could fully settle in, Joe pulled you into him, his hands gently gripping your waist as his lips found yours with a frantic intensity. The way his lips were moving against yours was deep, raw, and full of emotion. He needed to feel you, he needed to remind himself that you were still there and that you weren’t going to leave. 
His hand slid up your back, which was now wet as both of you were standing under the rainfall shower head, his gentle fingers tracing shapes around your back as he deepened the kiss. Your arms wrapped around his neck, one hand moving into his wet hair as the other hand rubbed his shoulder. 
His lips didn’t leave yours for a single second as the water poured over both of you. Every inch of your skin was drenched, the droplets sliding down your body, but that didn’t matter. The water was washing away all of the emotions of the day and was leaving you two in your own intimate bubble. However, nothing about what was happening in the shower carried any sexual energy, it was pure love and comfort. You could feel that he needed this more than anything, and you were right there for him. 
His hands continued to roam around your body, slowly but deliberately as he continued to remind himself that you were right there with him. A few seconds later, his lips left yours as he started trailing soft kisses down your wet jawline and neck. Each press of his lips against your skin felt like an apology and a promise all at once–his way of saying that you were his safe space, his sanctuary, and that he was sorry that something came so close to infiltrating his safe space and that he promised it wouldn’t happen again. 
He then moved his forehead to rest against yours, briefly staring into your eyes, before mumbling, “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” while gently squeezing your hips. 
You looked into his tired baby blues before cupping his face with your hands, “It’s a good thing you’ll never have to find out,” you whispered, then leaning forward to capture his lips in the soft kiss again, your noses brushing against each other as you pulled him in closer. 
You felt awful that Joe was feeling like this–mentally, physically, and emotionally exhausted. You wanted nothing more than to kiss his worries away and get rid of all the doubt and the pain by doing such a simple task. He didn’t deserve to feel this pain, this disappointment, this self-doubt. He worked so hard for everything, for football, for you–and seeing his hard work not pay off felt like a constant punch in the gut. Nothing hurts worse than seeing the person you love give their all to something–no matter how draining it was–and for it to rarely give anything back. 
It was even more painful when you saw him cry because of you. The thought of you being a burden, you adding to his stress, was still stuck in your mind. You felt guilty because most of this was your fault. If you weren’t there, then those men wouldn’t have said anything; Joe wouldn’t have a reason to feel this guilty. 
He blamed himself for the entire situation, and you blamed yourself. Except, he was being open about his feelings with you and you weren’t. The roles were reversed from last week. You were shutting him out in order to remain strong for him, and he knew that which made him feel even guiltier. 
“I love you,” he said in between the tender kiss, snapping you out of your daze as his hand cupped your cheek and thumb traced your cheekbone.
“I love you, forever,” you replied, your hand pushing his lips back onto yours. He needed to remind himself that you were still there, but you needed to remind yourself that he was still there too. Even if you didn’t want to admit it to him. 
After helping him shower, you finally got him comfortable in bed. The tiredness on his face was evident, but his mind was clearly still spiraling. It was a long day, emotionally draining for both of you, but you knew he needed rest more than anything right now. 
You slipped into the bed next to him, immediately turning to your side and pulling him into your body. His hands instinctively wrapped around your waist as he laid his cheek against your chest, your hands threading through his damp hair as you pressed light kisses around his face. 
“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he whispered a few quiet minutes later as he looked up at you with his tired eyes. 
“Shh, Joe,” you cooed as you moved his head back to your chest. “It’s okay, you’re okay, I’m right here. Go to sleep, baby,” you added with a kiss to his forehead, your heart breaking at his confession because that meant you were right; he wasn’t over it. 
He gave you a small nod before taking a deep breath, “I love you, Y/N. Thank you for everything you do for me,” he whispered, pressing a few kisses to your chest before fluttering his eyes closed. 
The rest of the hour was spent like this, with Joe wrapped tightly around your body. His head rested against your chest as you contuted to whisper gentle sweet nothings into his ear in hopes of soothing his restless mind. Occasionally, you’d press soft kisses against his forehead, his hair, and his cheek–each kiss adding to the palliative effect. Slowly, the tension was leaving his body and his breathing evened out. Your fingers continued to move in his hair, your nails lightly scratching his scalp which you knew always calmed him down. “I love you,” you repeatedly whispered with a gentle kiss to his temple. “I love you too, like a lot a a lot,” you said, echoing what he often times said to you.
About thirty minutes later, Joe was finally passed out like a baby, his face relaxed and free from worry. You glanced down at him, a soft smile tugging at your lips at the sight of him peacefully asleep and because of the sound of his soft snores.
“Thank god,” you whispered, relief washing over you because you got his brain to turn off for the night.
But unlike Joe’s brain, yours was still moving at the speed of light. Now that everything around you was quiet again, the voices in your head got louder. Normally, you were usually the one who had trouble falling asleep and Joe would be there to help you, but this time it was the opposite. 
You stared up at the ceiling for a few minutes, hoping and wishing that doing this would bore you to sleep somehow, but you were so wrong. 
You let out an exhausted sigh before reaching over and grabbing your phone from the nightstand, making sure to quickly dim the brightness so it wouldn’t wake Joe up. “Looking at old photos always calms me down,” you whispered to yourself as you opened the photos app on your phone, getting ready to do what you did last week after you and Joe’s argument. Looking through old photos, specifically from happy moments, always seemed to calm you down in moments just like these. 
You made an album specifically for photos of you and Joe in your photo app; it was like a little treasure box of memories that always brought a smile to your face. It was also your secret weapon for moments like these–when things got heavy and you needed a reminder of the simple times.
You tapped the randomizer button, your usual go-to when you wanted some nostalgia with a hint of surprise. This button would pull up any photo from any year, any moment, without any warning–which is why it was so special. You never knew what photo you would see, but it was always guaranteed to be a moment worth reliving. 
You tapped the button, this time a photo of the two of you from 2020 popped up on your screen. 
You were in the driver’s seat of the new car Joe had just bought and he was right next to you holding the camera–a pure, deeply in love smile and look on both your faces.
Flashback to 2020
“God, this car is amazing,” you smiled over at Joe as you turned onto the next street in your neighborhood. 
“I know right?” he nodded. “It feels like we’re gliding on the clouds or something, it’s so smooth,”. 
Currently, you two were driving around your new neighborhood that you had just moved into in Cincinnati, a few months post-NFL draft. Joe had recently purchased his first luxury car with his contract money, a beautiful sleek Maybach, and you were spending the evening driving it around and enjoying your quiet time together in your new city. 
Joe drove you around downtown Cincinnati first–both of you making a list of food places you were going to try, parks you were going to visit, and the prime date night spots–and then offered to switch places with you once you got back to the suburbs area. At first, he was going to let you drive around the city instead of him, but you were way too scared that you'd end up hitting something or crashing to let yourself even think about sitting behind the wheel. But, after a half hour of him sweet-talking you and reassuring you everything was going to be alright while driving, you were now in the driver's seat and were whipping the car around like it was no big deal. 
That was the Joe effect. 
"I love dating a rich man," you winked at him, earning an eyebrow raise from him that would send you straight to your knees if you were standing up right now. 
"Well, I love being a rich man who can spoil his sexy girlfriend at any time he feels like," he smirked. 
"Are you sure you don't love being my passenger princess even more?" you giggled as you reached over to turn the air conditioner down when you saw him pull the sleeve of his hoodie down. "You look pretty damn comfy over there," you said while looking down at his feet, which were only covered with his socks as he decided to take his shoes off.
"Oh, baby I am comfy," he groaned. "This seat is like a marshmallow or something," he sighed as he wiggled his shoulders against the seat. 
"I told you," you smiled, hitting the right turn signal as you approached the stop sign. "I just wish we could figure out how to set up the audio system. I'm missing our music right about now and was hoping we could do some car karaoke today," you sighed as you turned right and started going down another street.
"Yeah, I know," Joe sighed next to you, cupping your upper thigh with his hand, prompting you to glance down for a second. "Ah, ah," he shook his head when he noticed you looking down, "Eyes on the road,".
"You better not move that hand any higher, Burrow," you said while giving him a heated look, knowing his hands were dangerously close to a certain spot. 
"I won't, I won't," he nodded with a cheeky smile, knowing the hold he had over you. "But anyway. Since we don't have music to keep ourselves entertained, how about a short, our version, game of 20 questions?".
"Oooo," you said with wide eyes. "I love that idea!” you chirped. “Let’s make it couple themed too, to add to the vibe,”.
“You got it,” he smiled over at you, his heart swelling as he watched you sitting so relaxed next to him, driving your new car, in your new neighborhood, in your new life together. It was silly, but he couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t believe he was getting to do this with you, the one he loved the most. Back at LSU, the thought of this happening was a dream for him even though he was watching it all unfold right under his nose. It didn’t really hit him that you two were doing this–starting the next phase of your lives, the adult phase, the phase where you were together together in every single aspect–until you two had signed the lease for your first home together last month. 
“Okay, the first question for you,” you smiled. “What’s the romantic thing you’ve ever imagined us doing together?”. 
Joe looked ahead on the road as he thought of his answer, but he really didn’t need to think for that long because the answer was so obvious as he’d thought about it about a hundred times every night before going to sleep. “Getting married,” he turned his head and smiled at you. 
Married. 
You felt your stomach do a backflip when those words registered in your head. He’d never said this to you before or ever brought up the idea of getting married, even though it was all you could think about after your first date back at LSU. You thought that it was just your brain getting overexcited at the possibility of your childhood fantasy of marrying Prince Charming coming true–and your first date together solidified that he was the Prince Charming you were waiting for–but you had no idea that he felt the same way. 
“When we’re ready, of course,” he added, snapping you out of your trance. 
You looked over at him, your eyes twinkling with love for him which made his heart skip a beat. “Really?” you breathed out.
“Hell yeah,” he smiled. “You’re my girl, my lady. My one and only. Why would I want to pass up on making an extraordinary woman like you, my wife?” he asked with an adorable smile. There was a certainty in his voice, a certainty that left no room for doubt. Joe had always been sure of you, even when you got in your head and questioned things. The way he said it, with that cute, boyish smile, it was impossible not to feel it too–the deep love and the absolute certainty he had in the two of you.
“I love you,” you pouted, watching him lean in and press a quick kiss to your lips.
“I love you more than anything in the universe,” he winked. 
“Okay, my turn again,” you beamed as you looked back onto the road, Joe nodding beside you and rubbing his thumb across your thigh. “If you could describe our chemistry in a sentence, what would you say?” you asked him. 
Joe’s eyes sparkled with a soft smile as he thought about your question. “I’d say our chemistry is like lightning in a bottle–rare because so many people search for what we have their entire life, unpredictable like anything could happen which keeps us on our toes but also not too unpredictable because we’re lightning in a bottle so it’s contained and secure, and full of energy, but always electric whenever we’re together,”.
“So sweet and poetic,” you smiled as you glanced over at him. “If football ever gets boring, I think you should write a poetry book."
Joe chuckled, his hand still resting on your thigh as he gave it a playful squeeze. “Oh yeah?” he smirked. “Think I’ve got what it takes to be the next great romantic poet?” he winked, clearly amused by the idea, but the way he looked at you–like you were his muse–made it feel like maybe he could.
“Mhm. I think you can write a better Sonnet 18 than Shakespeare did,” you teased. 
“I appreciate the confidence,” he grinned as he moved his hair back with his fingers. “Okay, I have a question for you,”.
“Shoot,” you replied. 
“What’s the most enticing way I can wake you up?” he smirked, the energy in the car going from playful to sensual within 5 seconds of him saying that.
“With your head in between my thighs,” you blushed. “That feeling of your soft scruff rubbing against my skin, your beautiful nose against my clit…Ugh, it’s too perfect. Best way to wake up,”.
“Damn, you didn’t even have to think about that one,” he laughed. 
“Nope. It’s happened all too many times for me to prefer any other way of getting woken up. Except for that one morning, the morning after the date you told me you loved me, when that almost made me miss my psychology exam,” you giggled. “Then I would’ve preferred a coffee to wake me up but every other time, that’s the best way,”. 
“Good to know,” he chuckled. “Okay, next question. If we could have a dance party, just us, what song would you dance with me to?”.
“Teenage Dream, Katy Perry. Duh,” you grinned. “You make me feel like I'm livin' a teenage dream, the way you turn me on, I can't sleep, let's run away, and don't ever look back, don't ever look back,” you sing. 
“My heart stops when you look at me, just one touch now baby I believe, this is real, so take a chance and don't ever look back, don't ever look back,” he sings along with you. 
“Damn, okay Katy,” you giggled, applauding his ability to stay on the pitch and sing with you. 
“Thanks, babe,” he smiled, doing a little bow in his seat. 
“Oo, I have another one. What’s one thing you love about me that you don’t tell me enough?” you asked him with an eager smile. 
“Hmm, that’s a good one,” he said, biting his lip as he thought carefully about what to say. A few seconds later, he looked at you with an almost shy smile. “How strong you are,” he said. “You don’t realize it, but you’re the strongest person I know. You always take care of everyone else–your friends, family, me–without ever asking for anything in return. And you never give yourself enough credit for how much you handle. I don’t tell you that enough, but I see it every day,”. 
“I’m gonna cry,” you pouted, placing your hand on his which was resting on your thigh. “I love love loveee you,” you said as you brought his hand up, intertwined your fingers, and brought it up to your lips for a kiss. 
“I love you,” he smiled, those three words always coming from his lips and never getting old or redundant. Since he said it so often, it was a constant reminder of how deep-rooted his love was for you. He was all in for you, so infatuated with you to the point where being without you caused him physical pain. 
You turned onto the next street–the street where your house was–which signaled the game was coming to an end.  “Since we’re almost home, I take the final question,” Joe smiled as he sat up in his seat and reached down to slip his shoes on. 
“Okay,” you grinned.
“What’s one thing that I could do that would turn you on immedi-,” he began to say but before he could finish answering you interrupted him.
“The eye-brow raise,” you blurted out, a crimson blush rising on your face at the mental image of him doing the one thing that sent you straight to your knees in front of him. 
“Oh?” he said, surprised at your straightforwardness. 
You slowly turned your head to him, your eyes widening when you saw him doing said eyebrow raise at you right now as you turned into the garage of your home. “Joseph Lee!” you shrieked, slapping his thigh gently.
“I mean, we are home now,” he laughed, the smirk on his face screaming trouble. “At least we won’t have to get the car dirty,”. 
You stared at him with your jaw practically on the floor before he laughed again and used his hand to close your jaw. “Just kidding,” he smiled, “Maybe..” he added with a whisper. 
“Mhmmmm,” you squinted your eyes and nodded as you turned off the car. 
“Anywayyy,” he said as he unbuckled his seat belt and turned to you. “You like driving the car?”.
You unbuckled your seatbelt and turned to face him, matching his movements, “I mean Of course, who wouldn’t? It’s a Maybach,” you giggled. 
“Great, it’s your new car,” he grinned. 
Your eyes widened, “What?” you gasped, your voice filled with disbelief. 
He laughed, his smile getting even bigger at your reaction. “Yup, it’s all yours. Figured it was time you had something this valuable to match how valuable you are,”.
You stared at him with a mix of emotions swirling in your body, “You’re kidding right?” you asked, half expecting him to say it was a joke. “I thought this was your car?”.
“Nope. I’m getting a Porche for myself. This one is just for you, a special car for my special girl,” he smiled. 
You blankly stared at him for a few seconds before sliding your Uggs off and hopping over the center console, into Joe’s lap. You couldn’t believe that he just bought this car for you, something so expensive and grand. It was just for you. 
He really loved you more than anything in the world, and everything he did just showed you how all in he was for you. This was another thing added to the list, a very long, lengthy, beautiful list.
You didn't even ask him for anything, he just knew.
“Woahh, hey,” he laughed as his hands instantly went to your waist. 
“I fucking love you,” you grinned as you started attacking his face with kisses. “Like I seriously don’t deserve you at all,”. 
“You deserve everything and more, baby. You deserve the world and I can’t wait to give it to you,” he said to you, the look in his eyes sending chills down your spine. 
“Thank you, Joe. Thank you for all of it,” you smiled before you started peppering kisses around his jawline, feeling his scruff against your lips. 
“No need to thank me. You deserve it for all you do for me,” he smiled. 
“I do need to thank you,” you said as you pulled away from him and looked into his eyes, your eyes now filled with mischief and pure heat. 
He raised his eyebrows at your teasing expression, “Okay if you insist. But how so?”.
You looked him up and down as you licked your lips, an idea sparking inside your head. You leaned forward and placed your lips at his ear, “I think we should christian the new car? For its other use, not just driving. What do you think?” you whispered to him. 
“I think that we should get the car dirty,” he smirked as he moved your head back to his view and started kissing his way down your neck.
“Huh, that’s funny. I was thinking the same thing,” you smirked as you pulled his face back up to yours.
End of Flashback
The photo then changed to another one from 2020. This one specifically was from January 13th, 2020. 
You were in Joe’s apartment, tangled in the sheets of his bed with him, and he was holding the camera in front of you both as you both sported lazy, high-on-the-feeling type smiles on your faces. 
“That was a fun night,” you smiled, immersing yourself in the memory again. 
Flashback to Joe’s apartment – January 13th, 2020
“Fuck, that was good,” Joe breathed out as he fell back against the sheets, turning his head over to look at you to make sure you were alright.
“You have...a lot of energy,” you panted with a satisfied smile as you came down from your high, turning your head to look over at him through his messy hair.
“I feel like I can run a marathon,” he lazily chuckled as he propped himself up on his elbow and looked down at you.
“No running marathons tonight, we’re celebrating,” you winked as you leaned forward to press a kiss to his bicep. 
“That’s okay, I’ll just use my energy on you,” he smirked, “If you can handle it,”.
You let out an offended scoff, “Excuse me? Think I can’t match your stamina?”.
Joe looked around the room, avoiding eye contact with you as a smirk tugged at his lips. You grabbed a pillow from behind you and gently slapped his chest with it, “May I remind you of your birthday last month?” you giggled, reminding him of that very very long night you two spent in his apartment celebrating his birthday, alone. 
“Okay, Okay,” he said, taking back what he said. “Fair point. You can handle it,”. 
“Damn right, I can. I’m a National Champion’s girlfriend now, I can handle anything,” you smiled as you laid back against the sheets again, stretching your arm out to cup his face and rubbing your thumb along his cheek. 
“I’m really glad you didn’t mind celebrating here, just the two of us,” he said a few quiet seconds later as he moved your hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss to your palm. 
“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else or with anyone else, Joe. You’re all I need,” you said to him as you pulled him down and pressed your soft lips against his. 
“That’s great because,” he said between the kiss, “I really didn’t want to be out there tonight,” he said as he went back to your lips, maneuvering himself in the sheets so he was on top of you again.
The LSU Tigers had just won the National Championship just a few short hours ago at the Mercedes Benz Superdome in New Orleans. The entire city was alive with celebration and excitement, and the team was riding the high of their victory tonight. While most of the players and their partners were hitting up every club and bar on Bourbon Street, you found yourself in a quieter, more intimate setting. 
After wrapping up his media appearances for the night, Joe surprised you. You thought you two would just go with the rest of the team to whichever bar they wanted to raid first but Joe just had a feeling you were slightly opposed to the idea of bar hopping all night because he knew you didn’t really enjoy getting blackout drunk in order to have fun, and he was the same. So instead, he took your hand and led you to the car, alone–just the two of you.
The streets, the media, the entire state was buzzing with thrill and excitement over tonight’s game and Joe’s NFL ready performance, but Joe was only thinking about you. He knew how great the game was, how good he looked, and what this meant for his future as a Pro. But he could care less about all that right now. For him, tonight wasn’t about the parties, the lights, or the drinking–it was about sharing this moment with you. The person who had been with him since the start of his journey down here. 
“My little hermit crab,” you giggled as you pulled away from the kiss. “Even when it’s all about you, you still want to hide away in your shell,”. 
“Well, I’m not alone in my shell,” he pouted, “I have you and that’s all I’ll ever need,”. 
“I love you,” you said as you brushed your nose against his. “And I’m so proud of you,”. 
“Babyyy,” he shyly said while stuffing his face in your neck to hide his rosy cheeks. 
“What?” you said as you looked down at him. “I think I deserve to tell you how proud I am of you an unlimited amount of times tonight,”. 
“You’re gonna get tired of it,” he mumbled against your neck as he was pressing sloppy kisses around the bare skin.
“Oh, I am never getting tired of saying it I’ll have you know that,” you said as you stuffed your hand into his hair and played with his curls. “You always find a way to make me prouder so I’m always going to have something new to be proud of,”. 
“...Keep talking,” he said a few seconds later as he moved his head so that it was laying in your neck.
“Gladly,” you said as you pressed a kiss to his forehead, your voice soft and filled with emotion. “Do you even realize how far you’ve come? You’re not just the guy who won the College Football National Title tonight. You’re that kid from Athens, Ohio who fought his way from being a third-string quarterback–someone who people didn’t believe in, someone who thought his shot might never come as he sat on the bench for every game,”. 
Joe stayed quiet as he listened closely to what you were saying to him. “You broke free from that, baby. You took every challenge, and every setback, and used it as fuel to get here. You didn’t give up when things weren’t going your way, and now look at you? National Champ, Star QB, and a leader of a team that believed in you because you believed in yourself,”. 
“That little boy from Athens has come so far. So far from throwing a football in front of twenty, maybe thirty people at a pee-wee football game, to throwing a football in front of thousands of fans with even millions more watching from TV. You’ve worked so hard for this and I want you to be as proud of yourself as I am of you. Because tonight…you didn’t just with the trophy. You proved to yourself, you proved to everyone, that betting on yourself always works. That you are so much more than everyone gave you credit for. You proved that Joe Burrow is that guy and is going to be that guy for years to come,” you added, feeling him hold onto you a little tighter as you continued talking. 
“You did this, Joe. You did the damn thing you always dreamed of doing as a little boy. And this wasn’t just some lucky break, this was you turning that dream into reality. Every time you threw a football in the park with me when you got here, every practice, every struggle–it brought you here. You didn’t let anyone’s doubts or opinions stop you. This win, this night–it’s everything you’ve worked for, everything you’ve earned. And it’s just the beginning of your story. Who knows where you’re going to end up after the draft, but all I know right now is that you’ve done what you set out to do. Whether it’s to the NFL or wherever life takes you, you’ve shown nothing can hold you back. The sky isn’t the limit, Joe,” you said while feeling him press a kiss to your jaw and then a wet droplet streaming down your neck, likely a tear droplet from his eyes. “Little Joey Burrow from Athens who used to look up at the sky, dreaming of moments like these? He’s made it. He’s touched the sky. And now, nothing is stopping him from reaching even higher than the sky,”. 
“I am eternally proud of you,” you said, ending your sweet speech with another kiss on his forehead.
You hear Joe’s soft sniffles come from under you, “I love you, Y/N. I really fucking love you. I think out of everything that’s happened to me since coming to LSU, including tonight, you’re by far the best thing. I don’t know how I lived my life all those years without you, to be honest. And I know I can’t live the rest without you either,”. 
“Aww, Joey,” you cooed. “I can’t live without you either,” you said as you brought his face back up to yours and mashed your lips against his. “I can’t and I won’t,” you said as you pecked his lips. “Can I go where you go? Can we always be this close, forever and ever?” you asked him, the look in both your eyes answering that question for you both without needing to say anything. 
“You don’t need to ask me, baby. You’re going where I’m going whether you like it or not,” he smiled. “It’s you and me for infinity,”. 
“Good,” you nodded, a warm feeling in your heart as you two lightly touched the topic of your future together. “I’m not letting go of you if you want me t-, ahhh!” you shrieked as Joe grabbed your waist and easily flipped you over so that you were on top of him. 
“What were you saying?” he smirked as his hands gripped your waist with an intensity that matched the look in his eyes. 
“Damn, you’re strong,” you giggled as you leaned forward and moved his hair out of his eyes, your bare breasts dangling in front of his face which was all he could think about now. 
“Damn, you’re sexy,” he groaned as he slid his hands up your bare back, pushing you forward so that he could latch his mouth onto a nipple. 
You fluttered your eyes closed as you felt him swirl his tongue around your sensitive bud, “Ohh, yeah,” you whispered, your hips rocking against his as a jolt of pleasure vibrated through your tired body. 
“Mm, I wanna taste you,” he said as he pressed kisses along your sternum before moving to your other breast. “I think I deserve a sweet treat for winning the Championship,”. 
Joe’s breath hitched as your hands slid up his chest, your fingernails gently scratching his skin, His eyes darkened as they locked on yours, the intensity between you building with each parting second.
“I mean, it’s only fair,” you shrugged playfully, your voice soft but laced with desire. You bit your lip before adding, “But I want to ride you,” meeting his gaze with a look that spoke volumes. There was a fire in your eyes, one he couldn’t resist, one that seemed to pull him in deeper.
He swallowed hard, his body already reacting to the heat between you, completely mesmerized by the way you looked at him. “Damn,” he whispered, his voice raspy as he slid down on the bed and brought you with him. "You always know exactly what to say to drive me crazy,"
“I know,” you winked, “It’s my job,” you added before you felt him grip your waist again, this time feeling him lift you from his hips and onto his chest. 
“You ready?” he asked you, making sure you were alright even though this wasn’t the first time you’d done this before.
“Oh, hell yeah,” you grinned as you spread your legs wider and moved onto his face, lining your slick core with his mouth. 
A few seconds passed by as you got comfortable, his hands tightly gripping your waist and your ass as you let out a few breathy moans at the feeling of his perfect, ski slope nose rubbing against your aching clit. “Joe,” you whimpered. 
He looked up at you and the sight of you biting your bottom lip and holding onto the bedframe was enough to make him cum without you even doing anything to him, he was mesmerized by you. 
He used his tongue to lick a long stripe across your slit before thrusting his tongue into your core, your hips beginning to gently rock back and forth against his face. “Mmm, fuck,” you moaned, a warm feeling fluttering through your belly as you felt yourself getting lost under his touch. 
“Fuck,” he blubbered underneath you, “You taste like heaven,” he said while closing his eyes and gripping you even tighter. The feeling of his scruff against your bare skin was driving you insane. There was legit no better feeling on this planet than feeling his scruff in between your thighs. 
He continued to lap at your folds with his skillful mouth, even looking up at you with his wild eyes a few times and noticing how you threw your head back each time his lips latched onto your clit, even how you fell a little forward when his nose would rub against it. He was as skillful with his mouth as he was with his hands, both always moving with precision and perfection on you. He always knew what to do in order to send you over the edge, he knew your body like it was a road he’d driven down over a thousand times. 
“Joe, fuck…you’re so- you’re so good at t- this,” you moaned, stuffing your hands into his fluffy, disheveled hair as you rocked your hips back and forth a little harder. 
Your grip on his hair was as tight as the grip he had on you, both of you steadying yourselves due to the intensity of the pleasure unfolding between you. “Yeah, just like that,” you whimpered after you felt him move his hand to your wet heat, his thumb grazing over your bundle of nerves as you felt yourself inching closer to your orgasm. 
You tugged on his hair a little harder, this time earning a moan from him that vibrated through your entire body and sent you straight to heaven for a second as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, “Ah,” you whimpered as you felt the band in your belly tighten with each expert flick of his tongue and scratch of his scruff against your core. 
“I’m gonna cum, baby,” you whispered as you closed your eyes, your entire body hotter than the sun with the way his mouth was going unhinged on your soaked core. 
Joe opened his eyes and glanced up at you, a feeling of accomplishment and pride coursing through his veins, and it wasn’t because of winning big tonight. It was because of you. Because he was the only man on this planet to get you like this. 
He latched his mouth onto your clit, flicking the bud with his hot tongue as you felt your high starting to come over you with each nip and suck of his mouth and the feeling of your waist being squeezed by his big hand. 
“Joe…Joe…Joe!” you screamed a few seconds later as you felt your orgasm cut through you, your hands gripping the bed frame so that your tight grip didn’t end up ripping his hair out. “Oh my god, fuck,” you whimpered as you felt your release fall into his hot mouth and his tongue continuing to work you through your high. 
“I love you,” you breathed out a few seconds later once you looked down at him, feeling him smile into your drenched heat as he continued to coax you through your high.
And in that moment, you once again realized that there was no other place you both would rather be right now. You were away from the noise, from the flash of the cameras, from the distractions. This felt like the real celebration. The one that mattered the most. Joe had achieved one of his dreams, and the only thing that made it sweeter was sharing this private, intimate moment with you. 
All the sacrifices, sleepless nights, countless hours of practice–it all led to this. And the one person he wanted to be with, more than anyone else, was you. 
You were both exactly where you needed to be. Together. And that was the real victory.
End of Flashback 
You snapped back to the present when your phone turned off and the light was no longer reflecting onto your face. Your face felt wet, as well as your eyes as you looked down at your phone which had droplets sliding down the screen. You didn’t even realize that while reliving these memories, you started crying. 
You swiped at your face, trying to wipe away the tears as if you could get rid of the feelings that had overwhelmed you. You glanced down at Joe, praying that none of this had woken him up–which thankfully it didn’t. 
“Everything was so simple back then,” you thought to yourself as you felt a few more straggling tears slide down your cheeks. You missed those times, those times when your only concerns were what bag and clothes he was going to bring to his first practice as a Bengal or what team he’d end up going to post Natty win & NFL draft. 
And now? Now there were so many concerns, worries, and thoughts that needed to be sorted. But why? “When did everything get so complicated?” you asked yourself as you glanced back down at him, his puffy eyes still closed and his mouth slightly open as the soft snores continued to come through. “Why did everything get so complicated for him? Why is he in so much pain? He doesn’t deserve this…he works so hard. He does everything he needs to do. He does so much for me and for this life, we built,” you thought to yourself again as you felt your stomach drop.
You wished you could do something to help him, do something to just fix everything that was bothering him. But you couldn’t. 
The only thing you could do was remain strong, remain as his anchor, and prevent him from going under. 
Even if sometimes you felt like you were about to go under yourself. 
You leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead before whispering, “I’m so sorry Joe. I wish I could take away your pain, I wish I could make this better. You deserve the world and I’m so sorry that I can’t help you in the way I should be,".
"I’m sorry," you whispered again as you felt another tear slide down your cheek.
–To be Continued–
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joeybsversion · 1 year ago
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Girl Dad
Joe Burrow x Reader
Joe takes his daughter to practice
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9 days after entering the world, your daughter made her first Bengals practice debut. Since then, she’s spent most of her Sundays there as well. That is truly a right that comes with being the quarterbacks daughter.
Joe was the best dad. Even before she was born her catered to your every need. He continues to jump at her every whim.
“You ready to go, baby girl?” He asks, pulling into the facility parking lot. You had to travel for a work emergency with no notice, leaving Joe in charge for the day. “C’mon.” He pulls her from the car and slung the diaper bag over his shoulder, heading inside.
The sound of loud conversation and even louder music can be heard from the locker room as Joe makes his way down the hallway. Appearing around the corner with the small baby in his arms, everyone gasps. The locker room turned into a silent dead zone.
Usually there’s a strict no girls allowed rule in the locker room, but today the team would make an exception.
“Mama had to leave town, so we’re adding another player to the roster for the day.” Joe jokes with the team.
It was the day after a game so there wouldn’t be much practicing going on. Just watching film, talking about the upcoming game, and going over plays.
“Hi sweetie.” Ja’Marr takes the baby from Joes arms, giving him a chance to tuck the diaper bag into his locker and slip out of his coat.
“She loves her uncle Ja’Marr.” Joe admires his friends playfulness with his daughter.
“But she loves her Uncle Sam more!” Sam interrupted the conversation, taking your daughters tiny hand into his big one and cooing at her.
The guys filtered into the film room, finding a spot to take a seat so they could start the days meetings.
Your daughter was mostly content sitting on Joes lap. He bounced her on his knee and intently watched the screen in front of him. Almost as if she knew what was coming, she let out a loud shriek just as the team rewatched a play of Joe taking a hard hit.
“That’s what I’m saying too.” Joe laughs in response before quickly excusing himself from the room.
The training room was empty with the exception of two. Joe cradled his daughter in his arms, lightly bouncing her as he fed her a bottle. “This is where daddy works out.” He gives her a tour of the room. “So he can stay strong and healthy and take care of you for a long, long time.” He admires the tiny girl in his arms.
Soon enough, she’s drifted off to sleep in his arms. The bottle replaced with a binky which is bouncing up and down as she sucks on it in her sleep and a pink blanket wrapped around her.
Joe makes his way back into the room with the rest of the team. He presses a finger to his lips, motioning for the rest of the team to be quiet.
In that moment, he feels like a true winner, cradling his most prized possession, the best trophy ever, in his arms.
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allpromarlo · 2 years ago
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just saw a ravens fan say we need to sign cam newton...
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delayed-affection · 3 months ago
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hi! new to the blog but really love it :) could you do a Joe Burrow oneshot where reader shows up to a game wearing someone else’s jersey by accident and he gets a little jealous <3
Wrong Jersey
Joe burrow x reader
Oneshots Navigation
Warnings: none?
Word count: 1.5k
You were in a rush when getting ready for one of Joe’s games. Having just got off of work it was hell trying to get ready and leave when you needed to.
Joe made a special request for today’s game and that was for you to wear one of his jerseys.
So you did… Well you thought you did.
When you on your way out you just pulled out one of the many jerseys that he owns. Based on the color you thought it was his LSU one but it was Ja’marr’s.
You didn’t notice until you got to the stadium and someone complemented it. Making you do a double take on the jersey number on your chest.
You think about heading to the team store but it was packed with people. Sighing and head to your seat in the box with his family.
When you finally sit down your phone chimes.
Pulling your phone out of your pocket and unlocking it, opening your message app you see Joe’s name at the top of your screen.
It’s probably just his usual pregame message I think, which usually just consists of wish me luck and I love you’s.
Opening the text, The message reads…
‘Hey babe, I have a small favor to ask.’
You quickly send a message back, ‘Yeah, what is it?’
You watch as the three little dots come up and disappear.
‘So when you got dressed today, you grabbed a jersey, right?’
Fuck, you think to yourself before typing, ‘Yeah, why?’
Already having a feeling that he’s going to ask for a picture.
‘Can you send me a picture of you in the jersey?’
You take a deep breath unsure of how he will react to you having the wrong jersey on. Lifting up your phone you take a quick pic for him.
Snapping a photo and hitting send. Almost instantly he replies.
‘Is that Ja’marr’s jersey?’
You could see the three dots at the bottom of the screen to indicate that he was typing again.
But they disappear and no text comes through.
You try texting a quick apology just in case you had upset him.
‘I’m sorry, it was an accident I’ll triple check next time.’
Sending the text only for it to be left on delivered.
A few moments later the game starts.
Joe is out on the field stretching with the rest of the boys not looking very happy.
The first half of the game, Joe was on fire, making incredible plays and leading the team to a comfortable lead. None of his passes however going to Ja’marr.
Joe heads into the locker room for halftime.
By this point, you’re starting to worry if he’s genuinely upset with you.
After a while, he hasn’t replied to your text message and starts feeling a little bad.
A few minutes later the team comes out of the tunnel and takes the field once again. The game continues with Joe playing even better than he did in the first half.
He’s running more or doing more handoffs, anything but throwing the ball to his right hand man.
Joe was playing incredibly well considering the fact that he hasn’t even thrown a pass in the direction of his usually primary receiver.
The boys manage to secure a 42-21 victory by the end of the game.
The team gets off the field and heads into the locker room while the crowd of Bengals fans and away fans filter out of the stadium.
Unsure if you want to go down and see him or head home and wait for him there.
You sit in your seat for a while until friends and family clear out of the box you’re sitting in. Leaving you alone in the now nearly empty box suite for a few minutes.
Joe still hasn’t replied to your text or even acknowledged you since he saw you in the wrong jersey, leaving you worried about his reaction to seeing you after the game.
After waiting for a while you eventually decide that you’ll start to make your way to the parking lot to head home.
Maybe getting out of the Jersey before he sees you is the best decision of all.
You head over to your car and climb into the driver’s seat. Sitting there for a moment, you pull your jersey over your head and put it into the passenger seat.
You start up the car and begin driving home.
You drive home in silence, listening to the radio on your way there. It’s a quiet drive home, almost eerie.
After pulling up the car in the driveway and turning it off, you get out of the car and head inside.
You enter the house and toss your keys on the counter. Shutting the door behind you.
Knowing you have some time before he gets home you decide to put on an actual shirt and order some of his favorite food.
You change into a simple shirt and put your order in.
Taking a seat on the couch in your living room and trying to relax your nerves in the silence.
Waiting for him to get home.
After a while of quiet, you start to hear noises from outside.
You hear his car pull into the driveway and the engine shut off.
His car door shut followed by the sound of the front door opening and shutting behind him.
Joe walks into the living room and sets his keys and wallet on the coffee table. He does everything but look in your direction.
He finally looks in your direction.
He sees you sitting on the couch and he immediately looks down at what you’re wearing.
“So, you changed.”, he says gruffly.
“I did.”, you nod speaking softly.
He walks over and takes a seat in the chair across from you. There’s a slight tension in the air.
“You know, I thought I made it pretty clear that I wanted to see you in my jersey.” He says with a slight tone of annoyance.
“I know, it was a mistake. I put it on without looking at it, I was in rush.” You explain to him.
Joe sighs and rubs his forehead, the irritation showing on his face, “You didn’t even notice that you had on the wrong jersey?”
You shake your head, "Not until I got to the stadium."
"So you're telling me that you walked into that stadium with a jersey that had Ja'marr's name on the back on and you didn't think that it might upset me just a little?" His voice carrying a tone of jealousy.
"It was a pure accident, Joe, I'm sorry." You tell him, “I wouldn’t have done it on purpose.”
"You're sorry?" He asks, lifting his head up.
"Do you know how badly it ticked me off to knowing that you were walking around with that jersey on? You might as well have had one with Mahomes on it."
He let's out a small huff and crosses his arms, "Do you not understand that I wanted to see you in my jersey, not his?"
"I-..." You sigh and stand up, marching over to the bedroom.
He stands up and follows you.
"Where are you going?" He asks, frustration evident in his voice.
Opening the closet and taking out one his jerseys, making sure this one has his last name and number on it.
You slip off your shirt and pull on the jersey.
Joe stands in the doorway as he watches you pull his jersey over your head. He glances up and down, looking you over.
"Is this better for you?" You huff motioning to the jersey.
"It's better than the last one, yes." He says with a slight nod.
He can't deny that seeing you in his jersey didn't make his heart start to beat faster.
It wasn't even a sexual thing, seeing you wear his clothes just made him happy.
He wanted to claim you, he wanted to make sure the world knew that you are his and only his. And you wearing Ja’Marr’s jersey definitely did not get that message across.
He walks over to you and steps closer, towering over you, looking down at you, "Do you understand why it bothered me seeing you in another man's jersey?"
He placed a hand on your shoulder and gave it a slight squeeze, "Because you're mine and I don't want anyone else thinking they have a chance with you."
His hand glides up to your chin and gently lifts your face up, forcing you to meet his intense gaze.
The look on his face has changed, the irritation has been replaced with a combination of lust and possessiveness.
The sight of you in his jersey, looking up at him with those innocent eyes, it's making his mind go into a frenzy.
He leans down and plants his lips on your neck.
He kisses up the sensitive skin to your ear.
"You look good in my jersey." He whispered in a low tone, his breath hot against your skin, "Let's keep it that way."
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jburrgf · 24 days ago
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DAYTONA
“When the smoke in the air rolls like a wave it reminds me of that ocean view, and I swear that I won’t, but when it gets cold I think of Daytona and I think about you.”
pairing: hs reader/fan reader! x ahs joe!/bengals joe!
summary: summer love, high school love, one night stand, reuning after a long time, fan x famous player.
description: you went to bengals game at miami with your father, and find out on the same night that you’re staying at the same hotel as joe burrow: your one night stand crush from when you were 17.
The day of the game was something out of a dream for my dad. It wasn’t just any game—it was the Bengals against the Dolphins, and Joe Burrow was leading Cincinnati’s offense.
 My dad had been a die-hard Bengals fan for as long as I could remember. We’d spent countless Sundays in front of the TV, analyzing every play, cheering, and sometimes throwing pillows at the screen when the game didn’t go our way.
Today, though, the energy was different. The Hard Rock Stadium buzzed with excitement as the teams took the field. We’d arrived early, walking into the stadium with our jerseys on, my dad proudly wearing his Burrow jersey. I’d gone for something a little more neutral—after all, I didn’t have the same emotional investment in the Bengals, but I loved being here with him.
The first quarter passed in a blur. My dad was on the edge of his seat, muttering under his breath every time the Dolphins defense pressed Joe. "Come on, Joe, you’ve got this," he grumbled, his eyes glued to the field. I always thought that was funny. My dad is a born and raised 70’s type of guy from Miami, and still, he always cheered for the Bengals. My mom, born and raised in Tennessee, got the same taste as my father when they married almost thirty years ago. 
Joe looked calm, focused, his movements deliberate as he assessed the defense before the snap.
I chalked it up to the overwhelming atmosphere of the stadium—the lights, the noise, the fans. Still, I found myself watching Joe closely, like there was something more to it.
When the Bengals scored their first touchdown, the crowd erupted, and my dad leaped to his feet, cheering at the top of his lungs. "That’s my guy!" he shouted, clapping and throwing his arm around me. I laughed, more at his enthusiasm than anything, and joined in the celebration.
By the time the game ended, the Bengals had secured a hard-fought victory, and my dad was beaming. As we made our way out of the stadium, he was already talking about the next game he wanted to attend, but all I could think about was the odd sense of déjà vu that had been nagging at me.
Back at the hotel, my dad was ready to crash for the night, the excitement of the game having worn him out. "You’re not tired?" he asked as I lingered in the doorway.
"Not really. I might head down to the cafeteria, see if I can grab something to eat," I said, my stomach growling at the thought of a late-night snack.
He nodded, already halfway to sleep. "Alright, don’t stay up too late.” I laughed, as I’m still 10 years old.
I slipped out of the room and made my way down the quiet hallway, the cool, sterile air of the hotel soothing after the heat and noise of the stadium. The lobby was nearly empty, the faint hum of the late hour settling over the place. I made my way to the small cafeteria, hoping it was still open this late.
To my relief, the lights were on, and I stepped inside, scanning the shelves for something to eat. I grabbed a sandwich and a bottle of water, goind to check out and pay right after, and I turned around to find a place to sit.
And that’s when I saw him.
At first, I didn’t recognize him. He was sitting alone in the corner, his head bent over a cup of coffee. But then, as if sensing my gaze, he looked up. His eyes met mine, and suddenly, it hit me like a wave crashing on the shore.
Joe Burrow.
The realization came slowly, like a puzzle falling into place. I blinked, my mind racing to catch up. Could it really be him? The same guy I’d watched out on the field today? The same guy that my dad loves like his own son?
He stood up, and the casual way he moved, the familiar way he looked at me, made my heart skip a beat. There was no mistaking it now.
"You Still wear that, Y/N?" His voice was soft, as if he wasn’t entirely sure it was me. Why is he calling my name?
I stared at him, stunned. "Joe?" My voice came out in a whisper, like I was afraid saying his name out loud might break the spell. “Wear what?” I shook my head, still trying to make sense of it all. Why is he talking to me like that? He knows me from where? My words felt clumsy, my thoughts still spinning. I hadn’t even realized he’d know who I was. I mean, why would he?
I hesitated for a moment, looking at my clothes. It was the Athens High School sweatshirt that a guy that I met in Daytona gave me once. And then, realization hitted me. Ohio Joe, the shy handsome man that I had the most perfect night ever when I was seventeen years. Joe, Joey, blond hair, blue eyes, shy smile. The same Joe. I crossed the small space between us, still reeling from the shock of seeing him here, of all places, after all these years.
Joe gestured to the seat across from him. "Do you want to sit?"
As we sat there, I couldn’t help but stare at him. He was the same, but different. Older, obviously. More confident. There was something about him now that I hadn’t noticed back then—a calmness, a self-assurance that came with time and experience. But he still had that same smile, the one that made you feel like you were the only person in the room. I just couldn't believe it. Was Ohio Joe an American football player? I watched his game tonight!
I wasn’t sure where to begin, so I settled on the most obvious question. "What are you doing here?"
He chuckled softly, glancing around the empty cafeteria. "Team’s staying at the hotel. You?"
"My dad and I came down for the game. He’s a big Bengals fan."
Joe’s eyes lit up with recognition, and he nodded. "That’s awesome. Did he enjoy the game?"
I smiled. "He loved it. He’s probably already planning the next one."
We fell into a comfortable silence for a moment, the air between us thick with unspoken memories. I wasn’t sure if he was thinking about it too—Daytona Beach, the night we met—but I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was.
And then, as if reading my mind, Joe leaned back in his chair, his eyes searching mine. "Do you remember that night? Daytona Beach?"
My breath caught in my throat. Of course, I remembered. How could I forget? But hearing him say it out loud, acknowledging that night all these years later, felt surreal.
"I do," I said softly, my heart pounding in my chest. "It feels like forever ago."
Daytona Beach, Florida, 10th of May 2014.
It was our high school graduation trip. Daytona was only a couple hours away from where I lived, but it felt like a different world. We had spent all year planning it, dreaming about it—one last hurrah before we all went off in different directions, scattered to the wind. College, jobs, wherever life would take us. 
The first few days had been a blur of beaches, sunburns, and bad decisions, but on the last night, something changed. 
We found ourselves at a crowded beachside bar (that happened to be an alcohol free bar), packed with people our age—locals, tourists, whoever happened to be passing through. That’s where I first saw him. Joe was leaning against the bar, his hair tousled from the salty air, a drink in his hand, looking out over the crowd like he didn’t quite belong there. He was quiet, observant, the kind of guy who didn’t need to be in the center of attention to command it.
He was just another face in a sea of unfamiliar ones. But there was something about him that drew me in, something I couldn’t explain. Before I knew it, I was walking over to him.
"You look like you’re not from around here," I said, my voice raised over the thumping music.
He turned, a slow smile spreading across his face. "I’m not."
"Where’re you from?" I asked, leaning against the bar next to him.
"Ohio. Here for a football convention with my team," he replied, his eyes flicking back to the crowd for a moment before settling on me again. "You?"
"Daytona. I’m local. Well, sort of. Here for graduation week."
He nodded, like he understood what that meant, even though we were from completely different worlds. We talked for a while—about the convention, the beaches, what came next for both of us. Joe told me he was headed to college in a few months to play football. I told him I wasn’t sure what I was going to do yet, but I had a few options. 
There was something easy about talking to him. It wasn’t forced or awkward, like it sometimes was with guys I didn’t know well. Joe had this quiet confidence, like he didn’t need to impress anyone. He was just… himself.
As the night went on, we wandered away from the bar, down toward the beach. The sand was still warm from the day’s heat, and the moonlight glittered off the water as we walked, the waves crashing softly in the distance. 
I don’t know how long we walked before we stopped, standing at the edge of the water, our feet sinking into the wet sand. 
"You ever feel like you’re at the edge of something, but you’re not sure what it is?" I asked, staring out at the horizon.
Joe glanced at me, his eyes thoughtful. "Yeah. All the time."
We were both about to start new chapters of our lives, and the uncertainty of it all hung between us like a cloud. It felt like everything was about to change, and we didn’t know what that would look like.
"Do you ever get scared of what comes next?" I asked, my voice softer now.
Joe shrugged, but there was a hint of vulnerability in his expression. "Sometimes. But I figure you just take it as it comes, you know?"
I nodded, even though I wasn’t sure I knew. I was scared—of college, of leaving home, of everything that came with growing up. But standing there with Joe, it didn’t seem so terrifying. 
“I can’t see my life away from here” I said again, nervously. “I feel like my anchor is here, and that my boat will never sail.”
“Honestly, if I lived in a place like that, I wouldn’t want to leave either.” He responded with a smile. “I mean, I understand you. It's different when you feel lost.”
I looked at the boy, still not understanding. What did he knew about being lost?
“I hear from everyone that I’m not good enough. From everyone you can imagine.” He completes his own thought. “If you’re not your number one follower, no one else will be.”
I nodded, moving closer to Joe, sitting on the sand. The ocean waves were breaking in front of me, the sea was rough in Daytona today. The magnificent sunset was setting right in front of us.
I got up and took a photo of the sun with my cell phone. I let out a smile, and felt the warmth of Joey's body behind me. “Now let me take your pic.”
Before I could even challenge him, the blonde already had his cell phone in his face. I smiled at the small rear camera, adjusting myself for a pose.
“you looked beautiful” He commented, with a shy smile
“My turn to take your picture.”
I practically pushed Joey into the sea, positioning him. Joe was the most handsome guy I've ever seen in my entire life. And when he laughed at the camera, I was more sure that yes, he was beautiful. Lostly beautiful, intellectually beautiful, my kind of beautiful.
"Don't forget to remind me to give you my number." He began to say, putting his cell phone in his pocket. "I wanna all these photos."
I nodded, starting to walk along the beach sand. We were silent for countless minutes, but this wasn't a nightmare. Joe and I were quiet, but our words didn't need to be spoken out loud.
We walked together down the beach, our footsteps quiet in the soft sand. The night was peaceful, the sound of the waves filling the space between us, but I could tell Joe was nervous. Every now and then, he glanced over at me, like he wanted to say something but wasn’t sure how.
"So, Ohio, huh?" I broke the silence, nudging him playfully with my shoulder. "What’s it like up there?"
He smiled, looking down at his feet as he walked. "Cold, mostly. It’s not like this."
I laughed softly. "I bet. Daytona’s kind of… the opposite."
Joe chuckled too, but it was quiet, like he was still getting used to talking to me. "Yeah. I guess you’re used to this, though. The beach and all."
"Pretty much," I said, my eyes drifting out toward the water. "But I don’t know… it’s different tonight. Doesn’t feel like home. It feels like something else."
Joe didn’t say anything for a moment, and I thought maybe I’d said something weird. But then he spoke, his voice soft, almost hesitant. "I get that. It’s kinda like… like we’re in a bubble, you know? Like this is a different world for just one night."
I nodded, surprised by how perfectly he’d put it. "Exactly."
He glanced over at me again, his eyes flicking down to the sand before meeting mine. "So, uh… what comes next for you? After this?"
I shrugged. "College, I guess. I’m still figuring it out."
"You nervous about it?" he asked, his tone gentle, like he genuinely wanted to know.
"A little," I admitted. "I mean, it’s a big change, you know? Everything’s about to be different."
Joe nodded, looking thoughtful. "Yeah. It’s scary."
I glanced at him, surprised by his honesty. Most guys would’ve tried to brush it off, act like they had it all together. But not Joe. He was quiet, but he wasn’t afraid to admit when something scared him. I liked that about him.
"You’re going to college to play football, right?" I asked, remembering what he’d told me earlier.
"Yeah," he said, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly a little shy about it. "I mean, I hope so. I’ve got a spot, but, you know… you never really know until you’re there."
"You’re gonna be great," I said without even thinking. "I can tell."
He glanced at me, surprised. "You think so?"
"Definitely," I said, smiling at him. "You’ve got that look about you. Like you’re going to do big things."
Joe blushed, looking down at the sand again. "Thanks. That means a lot."
We walked in silence for a little while after that, the weight of the conversation hanging between us. There was something about Joe that made me feel like I could say anything, like he wouldn’t judge me for it. He was quiet, sure, but he was listening. Really listening.
Somehow, we ended up sitting in the sand, the conversation flowing as easily as the waves. We talked about everything and nothing, the kind of deep, late-night conversation that only happens when you know you’ll never see the other person again. There was something liberating about that—knowing that whatever we said, whatever happened, wouldn’t follow us past this night.
It was almost seven when we returned to the bar. Now completely quiet, Joe used all his awkward teenage charm to sneak into the bar’s kitchen. Taking advantage of the moment, I followed him inside.
"I’ve been sneaking into the bar’s kitchen for about three nights now," he explained to me, opening one of the freezers and grabbing a huge tub of ice cream. Joe handed me one of the clean spoons sitting on the counter.
We sat down next to each other on the floor, in front of the freezer.
“Tell me getting to know Daytona has been worth it, please,” I asked, taking a spoon full of ice cream.
“I haven’t seen the whole city yet. But you’re definitely the best tourist spot,” he said with a shy smile, hoping his line had the effect he wanted. “I’m glad I met you,” Joe said sincerely. “I usually get really nervous around beautiful girls.”
“Looking this handsome? Impossible!” I replied.
“Hey, I’m serious. I hardly ever feel comfortable around people my age.”
His hand found mine at that moment. I smiled, looking into his eyes. Joe leaned in close and kissed me. The kiss happened so naturally, I barely realized it was happening until it was too late. One moment, we were sitting side by side, our shoulders brushing against each other. The next, Joe was leaning in, his lips soft against mine, tasting faintly of salt, chocolate ice cream, and whatever drink he’d been sipping on earlier.
For a moment, the world seemed to stop. The sounds of the waves, the distant music from the bar, everything faded away until it was just the two of us, lost in each other.
Joe's hand found my neck, pulling me closer. One of my hands rested on his leg for support, while our tongues were intertwined—in my mouth, in his, everywhere.
We pulled back when I ran out of breath. Red-faced, hair messy, and completely dazed by what had just happened, I broke away from the kiss with the biggest smile on my face. Joe wasn’t much different from me. Sweaty, his short hair tousled, and grinning widely.
“You taste like tutti-frutti candy,” he remarked. I laughed, giving him a playful slap. “It’s true! I swear!”
Silence settled over us after that. Joe and I sat holding hands, savoring the last bites of ice cream that rested on the bowl on my lap.
“I’m leaving tomorrow,” he told me, the smile fading from his face. “I think I’ll miss you.”
“You barely know me, Joe,” I said, with a slight pause between his words and mine. Joe pressed his lips together and shrugged.
“I don’t care. I’ll miss you anyway.”
The lights in the bar began to turn off, and that’s when we realized we probably had to head back to the hotel now. We got up from the floor, put away what we’d used, and washed our hands. We left together through the back door of the bar.
“One more thing, before I forget…”
I couldn’t respond, because before I knew it, I was pressed against the back wall of the bar. The alley was dark, damp, and smelled of the sea. But none of that mattered anymore, because I felt Joe’s hands on my waist, pinning me against the wall, all six-foot-three and almost 200 pounds of him right against me, and I had never been so happy.
My fingers threaded through his hair, feeling it prickle my skin in a good way. I smiled, feeling breathless again, but unlike last time, when I pulled away, I leaned back in a few moments later.
I don’t exactly remember when we started walking again, but I know Joe’s hand was in the back pocket of my shorts. I was wearing his gray sweatshirt with “Athens High School” written in dark green.
The walk to my hotel, a cluster of stilted beach houses, wasn’t long. It was a bit farther down the same street. When I reached the little staircase leading to my place, my friends were all sitting on the porch, drinking and chatting.
“Look who’s coming back!” Tracey said.
I flipped her off, then turned to Joey. He was smiling, watching me, and when I looked at him, I blushed completely. How could I like someone this much in such a short time?
“This is for you,” he said, handing me a piece of paper. I looked down, and “Joey B” was written in big letters. It was his phone number.
“Where’s your pen?” I asked, and he pulled out the pen he’d taken from the bar, from his pocket. “Sign my jacket.”
I said, turning my back to him. I felt Joe hesitate a bit before actually doing what I’d asked. His signature was now at my waist level. “It’s because I know you’re going to be famous someday. Then I can say I was your first fan who got an autograph.”
He let out a silly smile, rolling his eyes. “I’m going to miss you.”
“I will too,” I replied.
The blond leaned closer, left a kiss on my lips along with a smile. He smelled incredible, and my whole body felt numb, and I’d only known this boy for a few hours. How could this be happening?
“See you soon, Ohio Boy.”
“See you in my dreams, Daytona Girl.”
I went up the stairs after saying goodbye to Joe, without looking back. When I got to my friends, he was already gone. I sighed, feeling like a part of me had just walked away too.
Flashback Off.
Back in the present, I sat across from Joe in the quiet hotel cafeteria, the memory of that night hanging between us. He was watching me closely, waiting for me to say something, to acknowledge what we both knew.
"I remember," I said finally, my voice barely more than a whisper. "That night… Daytona Beach. I didn’t recognize you at first."
Joe smiled, but it was softer this time, almost wistful. "I figured you didn’t. It’s been a while."
I nodded, my heart pounding. "Yeah. It has."
We sat in silence for a moment, both of us lost in the memory of that night. It had been just one night—one perfect, fleeting moment in time. But somehow, it felt like more than that. Like it had always been more, even if we hadn’t realized it at the time.
"Why didn’t we keep in touch?" He asked, the question slipping out before I could stop it.
I looked down to my hands, a shadow passing over my face. "I don’t know. Maybe we thought it was easier that way. One night, no expectations, no strings. I lost your number some weeks after, too. Always scared of finding you again."
He looked down at his hands, his jaw tightening slightly. "I thought about it. A lot, actually. But I didn’t know if… I didn’t want to complicate things."
"Complicate things?" I echoed, frowning.
Joe’s eyes met mine, and I could see the vulnerability in them—the same vulnerability I’d seen that night on the beach. "You were starting a whole new life. I was starting mine. It felt like… maybe it was better to leave it as just that one night. Something simple. Something good."
His words made sense in a way, but they also left me feeling hollow. "Yeah," I said, though my voice was quieter now. "Maybe."
We sat there for a moment, the memory of that night hanging between us. There was no denying the connection we’d had back then, and now, sitting across from him, I felt it again. Stronger, more complicated, but still there.
"Let me give you my number this time." Joe says, and I let it go a smile on my face. Ït is true"
"Do you trust me with your number?" I asked him.
"If you didn't sell my autograph until today, yes, I trust you with my number." He said, alittle smile coming from his mouth.
I smiled at him and handed my phone to him. Joe got his phone number over there, and when he was ready again, I got my phone back. 
“I think it’s better If I get going.” I was the first one to get up from the table. Joe followed me. “I will text you when I wake up tomorrow.”
“Or you can do it today.” He said, simple.
“I'm gonna text you when I wake up tomorrow promise you.” I said. “Hope to see you somewhere else, Joey.”
I hadn’t expected to see him again. After all, it was just one night. He was from Ohio, I was from Daytona, and our lives were about to go in completely different directions, again. I walked down to my room, thinking about what just happened. It's true when people say that you know when you meet the love of your life, cause I felt that way.
I gave a look down to my sweatshirt, seeing the autograph that Joe gave to me years before today. I couldn't believe it. How could I never find that out? His name was literally there, right under my own nose.
i got into my room, and my dad was already sleeping on his twin bed. I left a smile, and went to do my skin care at the bathroom. I couldn't even finish washing my face, because somebody knocked on my door.
A  soft knock on the door.
My heart skipped as I turned, my hand hovering over the handle, not quite daring to believe it. My hand started to spin, and I felt out of breath. I know it as him — I could feel through the doors.
But as I opened the hotel door dragging my whole life on the edges of my hads, I saw him there, again, like a deja-vu.was—standing by the elevators, hands in his pockets again, that same shy look on his face. It was Joey.
"Hey," he said, his voice quiet but steady.
I stopped in my tracks, surprised. "Hey. I didn’t think I’d see you again."
He didn’t say anything at first; he just stepped forward, his presence filling the doorway, his eyes never leaving mine. He looked as if he’d been wrestling with his thoughts, with everything left unsaid between us. And then, without another word, he reached up, gently brushing his hand along my jaw, his touch warm and grounding.
“I couldn’t just let it go again,” he said softly, his voice barely more than a whisper. “Not this time.”
I felt my heart pounding in my chest, and I could see the vulnerability in his eyes, the quiet determination that had brought him here. “Joe…” I began, but he didn’t give me a chance to finish.
In a single, careful movement, he leaned in, his lips brushing against mine, soft and tentative at first. But as I melted into the kiss, he pulled me closer, his hands settling on my waist as if he couldn’t bear to let me go. I could feel the years between us dissolving, the unspoken words, the moments we’d lost, all coming together in that one kiss.
When he finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against mine, his breaths shallow, his gaze intense.
“I’m not going to let you go again,” he murmured, his voice raw, like a promise he’d been holding onto for years. “Not this time.”
I felt a shiver run through me at his words, the weight of them settling over us like a vow. All the years, the distance, the almost—they didn’t matter anymore. Right here, right now, it was just us.
I looked at him, feeling a mix of disbelief and relief. It was like all the years of wondering, all the what-ifs, had finally led us to this moment. I didn’t know what would come next, but for the first time, I felt like I didn’t have to have all the answers. All that mattered was that we were here, together.
"Then don’t," I whispered, leaning into him again. "Don’t let me go."
He smiled, his hand cupping my face as he pulled me in for another kiss. And in that moment, I knew that whatever happened, we were finally where we were meant to be.
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