#Joe burrow fanfiction

[mrs-delaney]

Behind The Lens | Joe's POV | Part Two

gif by @burrowstyles5

📸 behind the lens ✨ the full story — before joe’s side of things 👀 click here to catch up

📝 want more stories? check out my masterlist to see everything I’ve written ✨

📬 want to be the first to know when i post? join my taglist here 💌

🏈 joe burrow x reader word count: 21.6k

📩 Reader Request: Reader has been working for the bengals since Joe got drafted. She can be a social media admin, public relations liaison or even a physical therapist. She’s been in love with him but it is unrequited while he was with Olivia and when they break up she thought that she had a chance but he starts seeing the influencer but please make it a happy ending. Angst as fuck but happy ending. I want to see this girl yearning for fucking years before she gets him and I want him to realize that she is the love of his life.

Author’s Note: I’m nervous about this one, y’all. The original was so long and it was difficult to work side by side with Y/N’s POV to get everything totally right and accurate. I really hope the work reflects how much time this took—making sure Joe’s internal thoughts matched up with what Y/N was experiencing, keeping timelines straight, and capturing his voice authentically while showing a different perspective on the same events. Thank you for your patience while I figured out how to make this work! Please send me messages, comments, talk to me—I’m in 😭

Taglist:@honeydippedfiction @harryweeniee @mruizsworld @cixrosie

December 2024 - Joe's Home

Joe stared at his phone, Y/N's last text still unanswered from three days ago. It had been about the upcoming playoff content strategy—completely professional, the kind of message that used to lead to longer conversations but now just sat there, marked as read.

The house felt different with Ellie visiting for the week. She'd been understanding about his game preparation, setting up her work station in the guest room to film content while he focused on film study. Her schedule was flexible enough that she could work from anywhere, which made these longer visits possible.

"How's the playoff prep going?" Ellie asked, appearing in the doorway of his media room with a bottle of water. She was dressed for one of her morning routine videos—athleisure that looked effortless but Joe knew was carefully chosen.

"Good," Joe said, pausing the defensive film he'd been studying. "Ravens are going to be tough, but we're ready."

Ellie nodded, though Joe could tell she was already mentally moving on to her next task. She supported his career without needing to understand the specifics, which was actually refreshing after years of people wanting detailed breakdowns of every play call.

"I'm going to film some content about supporting someone during playoff season," she said, settling her coffee on his desk. "Nothing with you in it, obviously. Just my perspective on the intensity of this time of year."

Joe appreciated that she understood his boundaries about appearing in her content. Their relationship was public now, but he kept his participation in her social media to a minimum. She got great engagement from her football girlfriend content without needing him to perform for her camera.

"That'll be good," Joe said. "Your followers seem to like the behind-the-scenes stuff."

"They do," Ellie agreed, already moving toward the door. "I'll be quiet while you finish up."

After she left, Joe returned to his film study, but found his attention drifting. The house was peaceful—Ellie working in her space, him working in his. It was comfortable, uncomplicated.

So why did he keep thinking about Y/N's unanswered text?

He pulled up his phone again, looking at the text thread with Y/N. His message about playoff content strategy from three days ago was still there, marked as read but unanswered. A simple work question that would have gotten an immediate response a year ago. Now, radio silence.

Joe set his phone aside, telling himself he was reading too much into it. Y/N was busy, playoffs were intense, everyone was focused. The slight distance he'd been sensing was probably just professional efficiency under pressure.

But something nagged at him as he tried to refocus on film. Y/N had been different since Thanksgiving, since news of his relationship with Ellie had become public. Not unprofessional—never that. But contained in a way that felt deliberate.

Ellie was upstairs in the guest room, probably filming content about playoff season or her morning routine. She was good at what she did, professional in her content creation, understanding about the demands of his schedule.

It was exactly what he needed right now—someone who supported his career without adding complications or demanding emotional energy he didn't have to spare.

Joe returned to his film study, pushing aside the nagging feeling that something had shifted in his world without him noticing when or why.

* * *

December 2024 - Three Days Later

Joe's phone buzzed with a team notification as he finished his morning workout. Group message from Y/N about updated practice schedules for the week. Professional, efficient, sent to the entire offensive unit.

He'd noticed she'd been handling most communications through group messages lately rather than direct texts. Made sense from an organizational standpoint, but it felt impersonal compared to their usual dynamic.

Ellie was in the kitchen when he came upstairs, phone propped on the counter as she filmed herself making what she called her "playoff week smoothie"—something green and instagram-worthy that she'd promote for one of her wellness sponsors.

"Morning, babe," she said, glancing up from her filming setup. "How was the workout?"

"Good," Joe said, grabbing water from the fridge. "Feeling ready for practice today."

"That's great," Ellie replied, returning her attention to the camera. "As I was saying, maintaining routine during high-stress periods is so important for mental health..."

Joe listened with half attention as Ellie wrapped up her content, marveling at how naturally she could shift between conversation with him and her professional presenter voice. She'd built an impressive following by being authentic about her life while still maintaining the polish that brands wanted to work with.

After she finished filming, Ellie settled beside him at the counter. "I'm thinking of flying back to LA tomorrow instead of Thursday. Give you more space to focus before the game."

Joe felt a flash of something—relief? guilt?—at the suggestion. "You don't have to do that. This is your routine too now."

"I know," Ellie said, bumping his shoulder gently. "But I can tell when you need full game mode. I've got meetings I could move up anyway."

The considerate gesture was typical Ellie—understanding his needs without making him feel guilty for having them. She'd adapted to the rhythms of his career without trying to change them or demanding more attention than he could give during intense periods.

"If you're sure," Joe said. "I appreciate how flexible you are with all this."

"It's part of dating you," Ellie replied matter-of-factly. "I knew what I was signing up for."

Later, as Joe drove to the facility, he found himself thinking about Ellie's easy acceptance of his career demands. She never pushed for more time or attention than he could give, never made him feel guilty for being unavailable during crucial weeks.

It was exactly what he should want—a partner who understood professional obligations and didn't create additional stress during already intense periods.

But arriving at the facility, Joe felt that familiar anticipation about seeing Y/N that he'd been trying to ignore. Not for any specific reason—just the comfortable rhythm of their collaboration, the way she understood the nuances of game preparation in ways that made his media obligations feel manageable rather than burdensome.

Walking through the halls, Joe realized he was looking forward to their usual pre-practice check-in about content needs, about his comfort level with different interview approaches, about the small collaborative details that made working with her effortless.

He just hoped whatever distance he'd been sensing lately was temporary, a function of playoff stress rather than something more permanent.

The thought that Y/N might be pulling back deliberately—Joe didn’t like that thought.

* * *

Three weeks after Y/N's return from Louisville

Joe had been watching Y/N for weeks now, cataloging the subtle changes in her behavior like he studied defensive formations. The way she'd started taking different routes through the facility. How she'd position herself in meetings to avoid direct eye contact. The careful timing of her arrivals and departures to minimize their overlap.

It wasn't random. It was strategic. And Joe was tired of pretending he didn't notice.

He found her outside the edit room, tablet in hand, completely absorbed in reviewing footage. For a moment, Joe just watched her work—the focused intensity that had always characterized her approach to everything, the way she'd unconsciously tuck her hair behind her ear when concentrating.

"Coffee this week?" The question came out more loaded than he'd intended, but Joe was past caring about subtlety. "We haven't really caught up since you got back from Louisville."

Y/N didn't look up from her tablet, her attention seemingly fixed on whatever footage she was reviewing. "Crazy schedule right now. Maybe next time."

The deflection came easily. Joe realized this wasn’t the first time she’d used that exact response.

"That's what you said last week," he said, letting frustration color his voice. "And the week before."

"End of season push," Y/N replied without missing a beat. "You know how it is."

Joe studied her face, noting the careful way she kept her eyes on the screen, the slight tension in her shoulders that suggested she was working to maintain composure. This wasn't busy—this was avoidance.

"Y/N." He let her name hang in the air, dropping his voice to get her attention. "I know something's going on. This isn't just about workload."

For a split second, Y/N's mask slipped. Joe caught the flicker of something—vulnerability, maybe, or recognition that he'd seen through her careful performance. But it was gone quickly, replaced by that same professional neutrality.

"Nothing's going on," she said, finally looking up with a smile that belonged in a press conference. "Just managing workflow. Speaking of which, I need to get these edits to the team."

The polite dismissal stung worse than anger would have. This was how Y/N dealt with difficult players, with media members she didn’t trust. Professional courtesy wrapped around steel boundaries.

Joe decided to abandon subtlety entirely.

"You've been avoiding me since Louisville," he said, not letting her step away. "Since the Ellie thing hit the news."

Y/N went very still, and Joe felt a grim satisfaction that he'd finally cut through her careful deflections. Her heart rate had picked up—he could see it in the slight acceleration of her breathing.

"I'm not avoiding anyone," she replied, but her voice had lost some of its steadiness. "I'm re-prioritizing assignments based on team needs."

Joe’s eyes narrowed. That was bullshit and they both knew it.

"If you say so," he said, stepping aside to let her pass. But he wasn't done. "We'll talk again soon."

Joe watched her walk away. She was trying to look unaffected, but he could tell his words had hit home.

He knew Y/N well enough to see through the professional act. She was protecting herself from something.

From what? From him?

Joe knew what was wrong. Deep down, he knew why Y/N's behavior had shifted right after news of his relationship with Ellie broke. The timing wasn't coincidental.

He'd been telling himself it was about professionalism, about Y/N maintaining appropriate boundaries. But that was bullshit. Joe thought about their easy conversations over the years, the way Y/N had been present for his most vulnerable moments during recovery, the connection that had been building between them before he'd gotten scared and chosen Ellie instead.

Because that's what he'd done, wasn't it? Chosen the safe option when what he felt for Y/N had started to feel too real, too complicated. He'd seen the way she looked at him sometimes, felt the charge in the air between them, and instead of dealing with it, he'd found someone else.

Y/N wasn't just maintaining professional distance. She was protecting herself from the guy who'd basically told her she wasn't worth the risk. The guy who'd picked someone else when things started to feel real.

He'd known this was coming. Had maybe even known it when he'd started dating Ellie in the first place.

* * *

Staff Meeting

Joe sat through the first half of the playoff media strategy meeting barely paying attention, watching Y/N instead. She'd positioned herself at the opposite end of the conference table, as far from him as possible. She ran through coverage plans and platform strategies like she always did, completely professional, completely competent.

But when she started assigning responsibilities, Joe's attention sharpened.

"Tyler will continue handling quarterback coverage," Y/N said, her tone suggesting this was a foregone conclusion. "We want consistency through the playoff run."

Joe's jaw tightened. Four years of working together, and she was just going to reassign him like it was nothing? Like he didn't get a say?

"I want Y/N for the post-game segment," he said, interrupting whatever conversation was happening around him. "We have a system."

The words came out sharper than he'd meant them to, but he didn't care anymore. She was cutting him out completely, and he wasn't going to just sit there and take it.

Y/N looked right at him. "Tyler's been doing your segments for weeks. We need to keep things consistent for playoffs."

She was missing the point entirely. This wasn't about Tyler. This was about her avoiding him.

"Y/N knows my cues better," Joe pressed, maintaining eye contact despite her obvious discomfort. "It makes more sense."

He watched her face, looking for something—anything—that showed this was hard for her too. Nothing.

"Tyler's done an excellent job," she replied smoothly. "And I'll be overseeing all content production. The current assignments stand."

The way she shut him down, in front of everyone—it stung. The finality in her voice, how she wouldn't even consider what he wanted, felt like she was dismissing everything they'd built together over four years. Joe noticed the room had gone quiet, people looking between them like they could sense something was off.

After the meeting broke up, Joe hung back, hoping to catch Y/N alone. But she was already packing up her stuff, moving with that practiced efficiency that meant she'd planned her escape before the meeting even started.

So this was how it was going to be. Y/N's distance wasn't about workload or being busy with playoffs. It was personal. She was actively tearing down everything they'd worked to build together, systematically dismantling four years of collaboration like it had never mattered at all.

As Joe watched Y/N leave the conference room without a backward glance, he felt the pieces finally click into place. This wasn't just about professional boundaries or protecting their working relationship.

Y/N had feelings for him. Had probably had them for longer than he'd realized.

And his relationship with Ellie had forced her to choose between her job and her heart. She'd chosen her job, built walls to keep herself safe, and now she was systematically dismantling everything they'd shared to protect what was left.

The recognition hit him like a punch to the gut. He'd been so focused on his own fear of complications that he'd completely missed what was happening right in front of him.

Joe thought about their friendship, about the easy conversations and mutual trust that had developed over years of working together. He thought about Y/N's presence during his recovery, her understanding during his most vulnerable moments, the way she'd made him feel seen and supported when everything else felt uncertain.

All those moments during his recovery, the easy conversations, the way she'd look at him sometimes—it hadn't been just professional support.

* * *

Later that day

Joe was reviewing game film when Sam's voice in the hallway caught his attention. Y/N's name made him pause the video.

"...different since she got back from Louisville," he heard someone say. Probably one of the other media staff.

Joe muted his laptop, focusing on the conversation outside his door.

"Right after the Ellie news broke," Sam's voice confirmed. "I'm worried about her."

There it was. Confirmation of what he'd already known but hadn't wanted to face. Y/N's behavior wasn't about workload or professionalism. It was about him and Ellie.

Joe sat back in his chair. Y/N had been dealing with this for weeks, keeping everything together at work while handling whatever she felt about his relationship. And he'd just gone about his business, completely clueless.

He thought about Ellie—easy, uncomplicated, safe. No messy history, no complicated feelings. Exactly what he'd thought he wanted.

But now, thinking about Y/N's careful distance and what it actually meant, Joe wondered if he'd chosen the wrong thing entirely. Chosen comfort over connection.

* * *

January 2025 - Bengals Facility

Joe had been looking for this chance for weeks. Playoffs were chaotic enough that Y/N couldn't avoid him as easily, and he'd been watching her patterns, waiting for the right moment.

He spotted her in the main corridor with her clipboard, directing her team like she always did. Even from here, he could see how she'd positioned herself near the exits. Probably already planning her escape if she saw him coming.

Joe hung back in the weight room doorway, tablet in hand so he'd look like he had a reason to be there. When Y/N's team scattered and she headed for the edit bay—exactly where he'd figured she'd go—he stepped out.

"Y/N."

He watched her stop dead, saw her shoulders go rigid before she turned around. That split second told him everything—being around him was work for her now.

"Joe," she replied, her tone hitting that perfect note of polite professionalism that had become her default with him. "Something you need?"

Joe stepped closer, noting how Y/N's grip tightened slightly on her clipboard. "Just wanted to confirm the gameday shoot schedule. Tyler sent it over, but there's a conflict with the offensive meeting."

It was a legitimate concern, but Joe's real motivation was simpler: he wanted to see if Y/N would handle this personally or continue delegating everything through Tyler.

"I can have him adjust it," Y/N replied, already reaching for her phone. "We're flexible."

The immediate deflection was exactly what he'd expected. Thirty seconds of conversation, and she was already looking for Tyler to handle it instead.

"You could adjust it," Joe pressed, keeping his voice casual despite his growing frustration. "You've been handling the playoff schedule for four seasons."

He watched her face. Nothing. She gave him absolutely nothing.

"Tyler's got it covered," she said simply.

Joe's jaw tightened. Four years, and now she wanted to manage him through Tyler like he was some difficult rookie.

"Sure," he said, not bothering to hide his frustration. "If that's how you want to play it."

Silence. Y/N wouldn't even look at him directly, her shoulders tense like she was bracing for something.

Up close, he could see how tired she looked. Not playoff tired. Something else entirely.

"How was Louisville?" The question slipped out before Joe could stop it, his genuine concern overriding his strategic approach to this conversation.

Something flickered across Y/N's expression—surprise, maybe, that he'd asked something personal.

"Good," she answered, then seemed to catch herself being too brief. "Nice to be home for the holidays."

Joe nodded, filing away her admission that Louisville still felt like home after years in Cincinnati. "Your brothers seemed happy to have you back. Saw Matt's post."

He'd been following her family on social media since their second year working together, though he'd never mentioned it directly. Matt's Instagram story from Christmas had shown Y/N laughing with her nieces, looking more relaxed than Joe had seen her in months.

"Family time is always good," Y/N said, glancing at her watch with the kind of deliberate gesture that meant she was planning her exit.

Joe didn't move aside, using his physical presence to keep her engaged despite her obvious desire to escape. "You know," he said, dropping his voice slightly, "this whole distance thing doesn't actually work if everyone notices it."

For just a second, her guard dropped—he saw the alarm in her eyes before she caught herself.

"I'm not sure what you mean," she said, but Joe caught the slight acceleration in her breathing.

Time to abandon subtlety entirely.

"Ja'maar asked me yesterday what happened between us," Joe continued, maintaining eye contact despite Y/N's obvious discomfort. "Says the whole team has noticed you don't work with me directly anymore."

It was true, and he wanted her to know that people had noticed.

"I work with the entire team," Y/N countered, but Joe heard the slight defensiveness beneath her smooth response. "Staff adjustments happen all the time."

"Not like this," Joe said quietly, letting his voice carry the weight of four years of collaboration. "Not after four years."

He saw Y/N's composure start to crack under his direct challenge, watched her mask begin to slip as she realized he wasn't going to accept her deflections.

"Is there a point to this conversation, Joe?" she asked, her voice taking on an edge he rarely heard from her. "Because I really do have a deadline."

The slight desperation in her question told Joe he was finally getting through her defenses. She was feeling cornered, which meant she was feeling something beyond professional indifference.

"The point is," Joe said, letting his own frustration show, "whatever's going on with you, people are noticing. And they're asking me about it, as if I have answers." He paused, studying her face. "Which I don't, because someone won't actually talk to me."

The accusation hung between them, more direct than any conversation they'd had in months. Joe watched Y/N process his words, saw her square her shoulders as she prepared to deflect again.

"There's nothing to talk about," she insisted, but her voice had lost some of its steadiness. "And frankly, if players are gossiping instead of focusing on playoff prep, that's concerning."

Joe almost smiled at her attempt to turn the conversation back to work. Even cornered, Y/N's instinct was to protect team focus and professional boundaries.

"Always deflecting," he said, finally stepping aside to let her pass. But he wasn't done. "Good luck with the edit, Y/N."

As she started to walk away, Joe felt a moment of desperation. Y/N was slipping away from him in ways he was only beginning to understand, and his window for addressing it was closing.

"For what it's worth," he called after her, the admission coming out more vulnerable than he'd intended, "I miss working with you."

Y/N didn't turn around, but her steps hitched for just a second before she kept walking. He'd gotten to her.

Standing alone in the hallway, Joe finally let himself admit what he'd been avoiding. Y/N had feelings for him. Real feelings. The kind that made normal conversation feel dangerous, that required her to build walls just to get through the day.

He thought about Ellie—easy, uncomplicated, safe. Then he thought about Y/N's careful composure, the way she'd looked when he said he missed working with her.

Maybe he'd been choosing the wrong thing all along. Choosing easy over what actually mattered.

The thought scared the hell out of him. Because if Y/N felt something for him, and if he was finally being honest about what he felt for her, then his nice, controlled life was about to get a lot more complicated.

* * *

Late January 2025 - Bengals Facility

The locker room felt empty, drained of all the energy that had carried them through the playoffs. Joe went through his post-season routine on autopilot—packing gear, saying goodbye to teammates, trying to process that their season was over.

Y/N was there with her camera, documenting everything like she always did. For months, she'd managed to avoid him, but in the cramped locker room, she couldn't stay completely out of his way. Joe found himself watching her work, seeing how she moved to get her shots while still keeping her distance from him.

"That's it for me," Ja'maar said, slinging his bag over his shoulder. "See you in a few months, man."

Joe nodded, clasping his teammate's hand. "Get some rest. We'll be back."

As players headed out, Joe realized this might be his last shot to talk to Y/N before the offseason. They'd be on different coasts for months, and ending things with nothing but work talk felt wrong after everything they'd been through.

She was by the exit with her camera bag, ready to leave. Sam was with her, and Joe could hear Tyler mentioning Y/N's name from across the room, though he couldn't make out what they were saying.

"Tyler handled Burrow's exit interview," Tyler was saying to someone. "Went pretty well, got some good content."

Joe felt that familiar frustration. Even today, on the last day of the season, she'd had Tyler handle his exit interview. No final conversation, no acknowledgment of what they'd been through together this year.

He walked over as they finished packing up. Y/N went rigid the second she saw him coming.

"Exit interviews done?" he asked, addressing both women but looking at Y/N.

"Just wrapping up," Sam replied when Y/N didn't immediately respond. "Tyler said yours went well."

Joe nodded, then decided to abandon subtlety. "Tyler's good," he said, meeting Y/N's eyes. "Different perspective."

The emphasis was intentional. Tyler was fine, but it wasn't the same, and they both knew it.

"Heading out already?" Y/N asked, her tone carefully neutral as she finally acknowledged him directly.

"Flight to California tonight," Joe confirmed, watching her face for any reaction to the mention of where Ellie was based. "Offseason training starts next week."

Something crossed her face when he mentioned California. Like she'd been expecting it.

"Have a good offseason," Y/N said, and the polite dismissal hit him hard. After four years of everything they'd been through together, she was talking to him like he was just another player heading out the door.

Joe looked at her face, hoping for something—anything. But she gave him nothing. Complete professional courtesy, like they were strangers.

"You too, Y/N," he said finally, accepting defeat. He glanced at Sam. "Both of you."

As he walked away, Joe felt everything they weren't saying hanging in the air. No mention of their history, nothing about what they'd built together over four years. Like their partnership had been just another work assignment.

Y/N was letting him leave without a fight, without even trying to make it personal. The message was clear: whatever they'd had was done. Finished with the season.

* * *

That Evening - Airport

Joe sat in the airport departure lounge, flight delayed, staring at Y/N's contact on his phone. His finger hovered over the keyboard but he couldn't figure out what to say.

The whole day felt off, and it wasn't about losing in the playoffs. Seasons ended. That was football. But the way things had gone with Y/N felt wrong somehow.

He kept thinking about Tyler's exit interview. Fine, but basic. Y/N would have asked better questions, dug deeper into what he was thinking, what he'd learned. Tyler had just hit the obvious stuff—stats, team performance, surface-level bullshit.

Joe started typing before he could talk himself out of it:

Wish you'd done my exit interview. Tyler didn't ask the right questions.

He hit send before he could reconsider, then immediately regretted it. Now he sounded desperate, reaching out when she was clearly trying to get away from him. Which he was, but she didn't need to know that.

The response came faster than he'd expected:

Safe travels. Good luck with offseason training.

Joe stared at the message. Even over text, she was keeping him at arm's length.

Still shutting me out. At least you're consistent.

The words came out harsher than he'd intended, but Joe was tired of this shit, tired of being treated like a stranger after everything they'd shared.

Not shutting you out. Just refocusing priorities.

The response felt like a door slamming shut.

Whatever you need to tell yourself.

Joe typed the words quickly, letting his frustration show. If Y/N wanted to pretend they'd never been more than player and media staff, fine. But he wasn't going to play along.

Have a good offseason, Joe.

Joe stared at the text thread. This might be it for months. By the time he got back for OTAs, she'd have had half a year to build those walls even higher.

He was losing her. Not just as a colleague, but as someone who actually mattered to him. It felt like losing something he couldn't replace.

Sitting in that terminal, waiting for a flight to California and a girlfriend who felt more like a comfortable routine than anything real, Joe realized he'd been fucking up for months.

Y/N had been protecting herself from feelings he'd been too scared to deal with. Ellie was safe, easy, but also empty in ways he couldn't ignore anymore.

His phone buzzed. Ellie, asking about his flight, talking about dinner plans and some content opportunity. Joe typed back the right responses, said the right things about being excited to see her.

But his head was still stuck on Y/N's final message, on the distance she'd kept all season, on how he'd chosen easy over everything that actually mattered.

Maybe it was too late to fix this. Maybe some mistakes couldn't be undone.

As they called his flight, Joe grabbed his stuff and headed toward months in California that felt more like punishment than vacation.

* * *

February 2025 - Los Angeles

Joe stepped off the plane at LAX into Southern California warmth, completely different from the Cincinnati winter he'd left behind. Ellie was waiting at baggage claim, looking perfect despite the early hour, all bright smiles and energy.

"There's my playoff warrior," she said, pulling him in for a kiss that felt like it was meant for the people watching. Who the hell talked like that?

"Good to see you," Joe replied, meaning it even as he noted the small audience that had gathered to watch their reunion.

The drive to Ellie's Venice Beach apartment was filled with her updates about modeling gigs, brand partnerships, and the projects she had lined up. Her enthusiasm was infectious, but Joe found himself only half-listening, his mind still processing the abrupt end to the season and the unresolved tension he'd left behind in Cincinnati.

"I thought we could do that couples workout class tomorrow," Ellie was saying as they pulled into her building's parking garage. "Well, I'd film some content there. You could just work out normally while I get my shots."

Joe nodded, appreciating that she understood his boundaries about appearing in her content. "Sounds good. I need to get back into a routine anyway."

Ellie's apartment was exactly what Joe had expected—bright, airy, filled with ring lights and camera equipment strategically placed but not overwhelming. They'd always stayed at hotels when he visited LA, or she'd come to Cincinnati, so this was his first time seeing her actual space. Her refrigerator was stocked with sponsored products, her bathroom counter arranged with skincare items that would appear in her content.

"I know it looks like a lot," Ellie said, noticing his survey of the space. "But I try to keep the work stuff contained. Most of my filming happens when you're training anyway."

"I get it," Joe said, and he did. He understood the business of personal branding, appreciated that Ellie respected his privacy while building her own career.

* * *

March 2025 - Malibu Training Facility

Six weeks in, Joe had his routine down. Morning workouts in Malibu, afternoons with his QB coach working on mechanics, evenings where Ellie edited content while he recovered or watched film.

The training was solid—some of the best he'd ever had access to. But he felt like he was just going through the motions, checking boxes without any real drive behind it.

"You seem distracted today," Liam, his QB coach, observed as they wrapped up a throwing session. "Mechanics are solid, but your head's somewhere else."

Joe toweled off, considering how to respond. "Just thinking about team stuff. Wonder how the new rookies will integrate."

It wasn't entirely true. Joe was thinking about the team, but specifically about whether Y/N was at the combine in Indianapolis, whether she was interviewing prospects, whether she was still maintaining the distance that had defined their final months of the season.

That evening, Joe sat in Ellie's living room while she filmed her post-workout routine in the kitchen, ring light positioned to catch the golden hour coming through her windows. He could hear her talking to her phone about nutrition and recovery, her voice taking on the polished cadence she used for content.

When she finished, she settled beside him on the couch, immediately shifting back to her natural speaking voice.

"Good session today?" she asked, curling up against his side.

"Yeah, making progress," Joe replied, though he wasn't sure what progress actually meant when he felt so disconnected from his usual drive.

"I got some great shots at the gym this morning," Ellie said, scrolling through her phone. "The lighting was perfect. My followers love the behind-the-scenes training stuff, even without you in it."

Joe appreciated that she never pushed him to be in her content. But watching her review footage from their morning—her perfectly curated version of what they'd done—made him think about Y/N. How Y/N captured real moments instead of manufacturing them.

Joe remembered their first real conversation, at a charity event in LA during his second year. Ellie had been working the event, but during a break, she'd sat beside him and asked, "Do you ever get tired of being 'Joe Burrow' all the time?"

The question had surprised him. Most people wanted more of the public version, not less. But Ellie had seemed genuinely curious about the person behind the image.

"Sometimes," he'd admitted. "It's a lot of pressure to be that composed all the time."

"I get it," she'd said simply. "Different industry, same thing. Sometimes I just want to eat pizza and watch Netflix without thinking about how it affects my brand."

That conversation had led to late-night texting, to private dinners, to the relief of being with someone who understood the weight of public expectations. Ellie had offered him something he desperately needed then—acceptance without demands for deeper emotional access.

But now, watching her create content about their relationship while he struggled to feel anything genuine, Joe realized that what had once felt like relief now felt like avoidance. Ellie deserved someone who wanted to know all of her, not just the parts that felt safe.

* * *

April 2025 - Venice Beach

Two months in, things with Ellie had become comfortable but empty. They looked good together, supported each other's work, but it all felt like going through the motions.

"I'm thinking about staying until June," Joe said one night while Ellie edited content on her laptop. "Push back going home."

Ellie looked up, pleased. "That would be great. I have that campaign shooting in May that would be perfect timing."

Joe nodded, though he wasn't really sure why he wanted to stay. The training was incredible—better than anything he could get back home. But that wasn't really the reason.

Maybe he was just avoiding whatever was waiting for him in Ohio. Y/N, the mess he'd made of things, the fact that all his choices were finally catching up with him.

"You seem different lately," Ellie observed, closing her laptop and giving him her full attention. "More... distant, I guess. Everything okay?"

Joe looked at her—beautiful, successful, uncomplicated Ellie who asked direct questions without demanding complicated answers.

"Just thinking about the season ahead," he said. "Whether the team's going to gel, whether we can make another run."

It was partly true, but not the whole story. Joe was thinking about the team, but specifically about Y/N and whether the distance she'd created would continue into the new season.

"You miss it," Ellie said, and it wasn't a question. "The competition, the guys, the whole Cincinnati thing."

She was right, but not completely. Joe did miss football, but more than that, he missed feeling like someone actually got him.

Ellie was perfect for what she was—supportive, successful, understanding. But perfect wasn't the same as real.

As they settled into another night of working side by side—her editing content, him watching film—Joe realized he was counting down days to go back to Cincinnati. Not because he was excited about it, but because he was tired of hiding out here.

He'd picked the safe choice, but safe was starting to feel like settling. And with OTAs coming up, he'd have to face everything he'd been avoiding—including the fact that this wasn't really his life. It was just the life he thought he was supposed to want.

* * *

Mid-April 2025 - Bengals Facility

Joe pushed through his third set of bench presses, sweat building despite the early morning hour. The Bengals weight room felt different after months in California—smaller, more familiar, charged with the specific energy that came from shared purpose rather than individual training.

He'd returned to Cincinnati a week earlier than planned, unable to manufacture more reasons to delay his return. The conversation with his QB coach about getting back into team rhythm had been the final excuse he needed to leave LA, though privately Joe knew he was running toward something as much as away from it.

"Looking strong, man," the strength coach said as Joe racked the weight. "California training paid off."

"Thanks," Joe replied, toweling off. The physical improvements were real—he felt sharp, powerful, ready for the demands of another season. But the mental side remained complicated in ways that had nothing to do with football preparation.

As he gathered his water bottle and prepared to head to the next station, Joe heard familiar voices in the hallway. His pulse quickened automatically, though he tried to convince himself it was just general facility energy.

But when the weight room door swung open and he stepped into the corridor, still talking to the strength coach about next week's program, Joe's attention immediately locked onto Y/N walking down the hall.

She looked different. Not just the shorter hair, though that was striking too. Something else—more confident, maybe. More self-contained. Like the time apart had changed her in ways he couldn't put his finger on.

Their eyes met before either of them could look away. Joe felt that familiar jolt, then remembered how they'd left things—polite, distant, unfinished.

"Y/N," he said, keeping his voice neutral despite the way his heart rate had picked up.

"Joe," she replied, maintaining her stride. "Welcome back."

The greeting was perfectly appropriate and told him absolutely nothing.

"Thanks," Joe said, then found himself pushing against her careful boundaries. "Heard you've been busy while I was gone."

He'd heard things, picked up information through various channels. Y/N dating, taking vacations, apparently thriving in his absence. He hated knowing that, and he knew exactly why.

"Just the usual pre-draft chaos," Y/N replied with practiced ease. "How was California?"

The question was polite, professional, revealing nothing about whether she cared about his answer. Joe felt a flash of frustration at her careful neutrality.

"Productive," he said, though even as he said it, Joe realized how hollow the months in LA felt in retrospect. "Good to be back though."

The admission surprised him with its honesty. He was glad to be back, not just for football but for reasons he wasn't ready to examine.

An awkward silence stretched between them. Joe became aware of the strength coach hovering nearby, clearly sensing tension he didn't understand. The man muttered something about paperwork and disappeared, leaving Joe and Y/N alone in the hallway.

"I should get to my meeting," Y/N said, the efficiency in her voice suggesting she was looking for an exit from this conversation.

"Right," Joe agreed, but instead of letting her go, he found himself studying her face with new attention.

The haircut wasn't just different—it was intentional. Sharper, more sophisticated. Like she'd decided to become someone new while he was gone.

"You cut your hair," he said, the observation slipping out before he could stop it.

Y/N looked genuinely surprised by the personal comment. "Yes. Before my trip."

"It looks good," Joe said, meaning it. The cut suited her, highlighted features he'd somehow never noticed before despite working closely with her for years.

"Thanks," Y/N replied, and Joe caught something uncertain in her expression, like she wasn't sure how to respond to personal observation from him.

Joe felt an urge to say more, to push past the polite surface conversation and address the months of distance between them. But standing in the hallway with Y/N clearly wanting to escape, he realized this wasn't the time or place.

"Good luck with your meeting," he said finally, stepping aside.

"Thanks," Y/N said, then added with what felt like genuine warmth, "Good to have you back."

As she walked away, Joe stood there processing what had just happened. Y/N had been polite, professional—everything she should be. But it felt managed, like she was handling him instead of just talking to him.

This wasn't the same person he'd left behind in January. She'd changed while he was gone, found her footing without him. And honestly? She seemed better for it.

He'd spent months in California thinking about her, missing what they'd had, wondering if she was struggling too. Apparently not. She'd moved on while he'd been stuck in the same place, still thinking about what they'd lost.

The professional distance didn't feel like protection anymore. It felt like she genuinely didn't care.

That should have been freeing. If Y/N was over whatever had been between them, they could go back to working together without all the complications.

But walking back through the facility, Joe realized he didn't want that freedom. Not if it meant losing something he'd never properly valued in the first place.

* * *

Late April 2025 - Bengals Facility

Joe had been waiting for this chance since he got back to Cincinnati. Y/N was working with him directly again instead of sending Tyler, which he'd hoped meant she was finally loosening up. But today had felt like working with a stranger—technically perfect but completely cold.

As Y/N packed up her equipment, Joe didn't want the session to end. This was the most time they'd spent together since January, and he wasn't ready to go back to avoiding each other in the hallways.

"New workflow seems to be working well," he said, watching her organize cables with practiced movements. "Though Tyler's approach is different from yours."

It was a casual observation, but Joe was fishing for something—any sign that Y/N missed their old collaborative dynamic.

"Everyone has their own style," Y/N replied without looking up. "He's been doing great work with the quarterback content."

"He has," Joe agreed, then decided to push slightly. "But it's good to have you back in the mix too."

Y/N finally met his gaze, her expression perfectly controlled. "Just filling in today since he's covering the offensive line segments."

Joe felt his stomach drop. "Right. Just filling in."

"I heard you've been dating," he said suddenly, the words coming out before he could stop them.

Y/N's hands fumbled slightly with her lens cap—the first crack in her composure he'd seen all day. "Cincinnati's a small town."

Joe felt something uncomfortable twist in his chest at her casual confirmation. "Tee mentioned something. Said you were... exploring options."

The idea of Y/N with other men, building connections with people who didn't carry the complicated history between them, bothered the fuck out of Joe.

"Just getting out there," Y/N replied, her tone carefully neutral. "Nothing serious."

"Good," Joe said, though the word felt like swallowing glass. "That's... good."

Y/N snapped her camera bag closed with more force than necessary, clearly done with this conversation.

"Well, I should get this footage to editing," she said, standing with the kind of brisk efficiency that meant she was planning her escape. "Draft content won't produce itself."

Joe felt desperation rise in his chest. Y/N was about to walk away, and he had no idea when he'd get another opportunity for honest conversation.

"Y/N," he said, his voice stopping her before she could reach the door. "Are we okay?"

The question was more direct than anything he'd asked her in months, born from Joe's growing recognition that their professional relationship had become a careful performance rather than genuine collaboration.

"We're fine," Y/N said automatically. "Why wouldn't we be?"

The deflection was so practiced it felt insulting. Joe decided to abandon diplomatic phrasing entirely.

"Because this is the first real conversation we've had in months that wasn't strictly about work," he said, meeting her eyes directly. "Because you've been actively avoiding me since November. You created that buffer system, delegated all my media to Tyler, and now you're back from vacation with a new haircut and a new approach, and I feel like I'm constantly a step behind whatever's happening."

Joe watched Y/N's control slip for just a second. For the first time in months, he was getting to her.

"I needed some perspective," Y/N said after a moment, her words chosen with obvious care. "The buffer system was about creating professional clarity. And yes, the vacation helped me realize some things needed to change. But that's not about you, Joe. It's about me figuring out who I am beyond this job."

The explanation made sense but felt like bullshit. Y/N was holding something back, and they both knew it.

"And dating random guys is part of that?" The question escaped before Joe could stop it, revealing more of his reaction than he'd intended.

Y/N's expression shifted, something sharp entering her eyes. "Who I date isn't really your concern, is it? Just like your relationship with Ellie isn't mine."

The mention of Ellie hit Joe like a physical blow. He'd been so focused on understanding Y/N's distance that he'd temporarily forgotten the context that had created it—his relationship with someone else, his choice to pursue safety instead of the complicated feelings that existed between them.

"That's not—" Joe started, then stopped, recognizing he had no right to question Y/N's dating life when he was with Ellie. "It's different."

"Is it?" Y/N challenged, reaching for the door handle. "Look, Joe, we work together. We've always worked well together professionally. I'd like to keep it that way. Anything beyond that just... complicates things unnecessarily."

The dismissal stung worse than anger would have. Y/N was reducing four years of collaboration, trust, and growing connection to simple professional obligation.

"So that's it?" Joe asked, feeling something desperate rise in his chest. "We go back to player and media staff? Pretend the last four years never happened?"

"Not pretend they never happened," Y/N said, her voice gentler but no less final. "Just acknowledge that professional boundaries exist for a reason. And I'm finally respecting them."

Before Joe could respond, Y/N was gone, leaving him alone with everything they hadn't said.

Joe slumped in his chair. Y/N hadn't just kept her distance—she'd chosen it. Whatever had been between them, she was done with it.

And honestly? Good for her. She was protecting herself, building a life that didn't depend on some guy who'd picked someone else. She was dating, moving forward, doing what she should do.

But sitting in that empty room, Joe realized he'd been hoping she was as stuck as he was. That their connection mattered to her the way it had started to matter to him.

Instead, she'd figured out how to be happy without him. Had become someone who didn't need whatever complicated mess they'd had.

He thought about Ellie back in California, building content around a relationship that felt more fake every day. About choosing safe over real, easy over everything that actually mattered.

Maybe Y/N was right to cut him out. Maybe he'd lost the right to complicate her life the moment he'd decided she wasn't worth the risk.

* * *

May 2025 - Bengals Facility

Joe sat through the weekly planning meeting barely listening to talk about rookie features and season ticket promotions. His attention was on Y/N at the far end of the table, as far from him as she could get while still doing her job.

Their interactions over the past few weeks had become workable but hollow. Y/N was everything she should be—professional, competent, polite. But whatever they'd had before felt like ancient history now.

"We need quarterback content for the season ticket promo," Kayla announced, and Joe felt his attention sharpen. "Y/N, can you handle that shoot, or do you want Tyler to take it?"

Joe watched Y/N's face, hoping for some sign that she might prefer to work with him directly rather than continue the delegation system she'd established.

"Tyler's already scheduled for rookie breakout features that day," Y/N said, her eyes on her notes rather than on him. "I can handle the quarterback segment."

The clinical phrasing hit Joe wrong. "Quarterback segment." Not "Joe's shoot" or even "the promo content"—just a generic position description that could apply to anyone.

"Perfect," Kayla said, making a note. "Joe, that work for your schedule?"

"Whatever works for the team," Joe replied, though privately he wondered if Y/N understood how her linguistic distance affected him.

As the meeting dispersed, Joe lingered, organizing his materials slowly while waiting for the room to clear. He needed to address this pattern before it became completely entrenched.

"You don't have to keep doing that, you know," he said once they were alone.

Y/N looked up with carefully neutral curiosity. "Doing what?"

Joe studied her face, noting the slight tension around her eyes that suggested she knew exactly what he meant. "Referring to me like I'm just a position on the team. 'Quarterback segment.' 'Quarterback content.' Like you can't even say my name."

Y/N's composure flickered for just a moment before reasserting itself. "It's not intentional. Just professional shorthand."

"It's distance," Joe corrected, keeping his voice low but letting his frustration show. "And I get why you needed it before. But I thought after your vacation, after you said you wanted normal professional interactions, that maybe we'd at least be back to... I don't know, acknowledging we know each other?"

Joe watched Y/N process his words, saw something shift in her expression. For the first time in months, she looked genuinely affected by his perspective rather than simply managing it.

"You're right," she said quietly, and Joe felt a spark of hope at the admission. "I'm sorry."

The apology was simple but felt significant. Joe's expression softened, encouraged by this crack in Y/N's professional armor.

"I miss how we used to talk," he said, the words coming out more vulnerable than he'd intended. "Not about content. Just... you and me."

The admission hung between them, loaded with memories of easier times when their connection had felt natural rather than carefully managed. Joe watched Y/N's face, looking for any sign that she missed it too.

"I've been drawing a line," Y/N said after a moment, her voice carrying something that sounded like regret. "Maybe I've drawn it too sharply."

Joe felt his heart rate pick up at her acknowledgment. This was the most honest she'd been with him since his return from California. Maybe they could find their way back to something resembling their old dynamic.

His phone buzzed against the conference table, interrupting the moment. Joe glanced at it automatically, seeing Ellie's name and a message about her travel schedule.

The reminder of his girlfriend hit like cold water, immediately recontextualizing everything about his conversation with Y/N. Here he was, pushing for more personal connection with another woman while in a relationship, crossing lines he had no right to cross.

"Ellie's back from New York tomorrow," he said, the words feeling heavy as he spoke them.

Joe watched Y/N's expression shift, saw her carefully rebuilt walls snap back into place. The moment of softness disappeared, replaced by the professional distance he'd been trying to bridge.

"That's nice," Y/N replied, her tone perfectly neutral. "I'm sure you've missed her."

The polite response felt like a door closing. Y/N was reminding them both of the reality that made their connection inappropriate, however significant it might feel.

Joe nodded, though the truth was more complicated than missing Ellie. He'd been counting days until his return to Cincinnati, thinking about Y/N more than his girlfriend, questioning choices he'd made months ago.

"See you at the promo shoot," he said, accepting the boundary Y/N was reestablishing.

As Joe left the conference room, he felt torn between what was right and what he wanted. Y/N was smart to keep her distance—he was with someone else, had no business pushing for more.

But walking through the facility, thinking about how she'd softened for just a second before catching herself, Joe knew his feelings for her had only gotten stronger.

That should have been good news. Finally knowing what he wanted. But it also meant facing how badly he'd screwed everything up.

Ellie would be back tomorrow, expecting things to be the same between them. But Joe wasn't the same person who'd chosen easy over real, who'd been too scared to risk anything that mattered.

* * *

That Evening - Joe's Home

Joe sat in his living room staring at Ellie's texts about dinner plans. The house felt too big, too quiet, nothing like the spaces that actually felt like home.

He kept thinking about Y/N admitting she'd been drawing lines too sharply, about that moment when something real had passed between them before his phone had ruined it.

California had been comfortable with Ellie—training while she made content, evenings working side by side without really connecting. Exactly what he'd thought he wanted. Uncomplicated, safe, empty.

But now, thinking about Y/N and how she'd looked when he said he missed their conversations, Joe knew he'd been choosing wrong all along.

He was with someone who fit his life perfectly but didn't make him feel anything real. While the person who actually mattered was building walls to protect herself from him.

Joe typed back to Ellie about dinner, all the right words about being excited to see her. But his mind was stuck on Y/N, on whether her distance was protection or genuine indifference.

Maybe it was time to stop living the life he thought he was supposed to want and start going after what he actually needed.

* * *

June 2025 - Team Charity Event

Joe adjusted his bow tie one final time as the car pulled up to the hotel ballroom. These charity events were part of his professional obligations—smile for donors, represent the organization well, raise money for causes that mattered. But tonight felt different, weighted with the knowledge that Y/N would be working the event.

Ellie looked stunning beside him in her red gown, every inch the perfect partner for a public appearance. She'd flown in from New York specifically for this event, understanding how important team functions were for his image.

"You look amazing," Joe said, meaning it as they walked toward the entrance.

"Thank you," Ellie smiled, automatically adjusting her posture as cameras began flashing. "This is such a beautiful venue. Perfect for content, but I know tonight isn't about that."

Joe appreciated her awareness of boundaries. Ellie understood when to be his girlfriend and when to be his professional partner, never pushing for attention that might detract from the team's mission.

But as they entered the ballroom, Joe found himself scanning the room not for donors or teammates, but for Y/N. He spotted her moving efficiently around the perimeter, camera in hand, documenting the event with the professional competence that had defined her work for years.

She looked different tonight—elegant in a way he'd never seen at work. Black dress, hair sleek and styled back. She moved through the crowd with that quiet confidence, doing her job while most people didn't even notice her.

"Joe Burrow!" A major sponsor approached with enthusiastic energy. "Great to see you. How's the off-season preparation going?"

Joe shifted into public mode, engaging with practiced charm while part of his attention tracked Y/N's movement through the room. She was working methodically, capturing moments that would become the official story of the evening.

For an hour, Joe did what he was supposed to do—photos with donors, small talk about the team, all the standard stuff. But he kept tracking Y/N around the room, watching her work while staying out of his way.

When they finally sat down for dinner, Joe realized she'd have to come to their table for photos. The thought made his pulse pick up.

"Joe Burrow's table is next," he heard someone say, presumably through Y/N's earpiece.

Y/N approached their table with camera ready, her expression professionally pleasant. "Evening, everyone. Time for the official table photo."

Their eyes met immediately, and Joe felt that familiar jolt of connection before he carefully arranged his features into an appropriate smile. This was exactly the kind of interaction they'd been navigating for months—professional necessity complicated by unresolved personal tension.

"Y/N," Joe acknowledged. "Didn't realize you'd be shooting tonight."

"Last-minute call," she replied smoothly. "We needed a few extra hands."

Before Joe could extend the conversation, Ellie turned toward Y/N with genuine warmth.

"You must be Y/N," she said, extending her hand. "Joe's told me so much about you. I've seen your work—it's amazing."

Joe watched this with mixed feelings. Ellie's enthusiasm was real—she'd actually brought up Y/N before, had complimented her work. But seeing them together just highlighted how weird his situation had become.

"Thanks," Y/N replied, shaking Ellie's hand with professional composure. "I appreciate that."

Joe caught Y/N's surprise at the compliment, saw her trying to figure out Ellie's friendliness. Part of him wanted to explain why he'd talked about Y/N at all, but surrounded by all these people, with Ellie's hand on his arm, there was no way to say what he really meant.

But surrounded by sponsors and teammates, with Ellie's hand resting on his arm, those explanations felt impossible.

"Actually, I'm capturing candids tonight," Y/N said, raising her camera. "So everyone just continue your conversations naturally. Pretend I'm not even here."

As Y/N worked around their table, Joe tried to catch her eye, tried to say something without words. But she treated him like everyone else, completely professional.

"Perfect, thank you everyone," Y/N said after capturing several shots. "Enjoy your evening."

As she prepared to move to the next table, Ellie touched her arm lightly. "I hope we get to talk more later. Joe says you have the best stories about the team."

Joe watched Y/N's reaction—polite but careful, managing Ellie's friendliness while maintaining appropriate boundaries.

"Maybe next time," Y/N replied. "I've got quite a few tables left to photograph."

The whole thing left Joe feeling off-balance. Ellie's interest in Y/N just made it clearer how split his life had become—the girlfriend who knew his public face, and the woman who actually knew him.

* * *

Later - Hotel Terrace

Joe stepped onto the terrace, needing air and space to process the evening's unexpected tensions. He'd excused himself from the table conversation, ostensibly to take a business call, but really to escape the careful performance that public events required.

He found Y/N at the railing, looking out at the city lights, her camera hanging idle at her side.

"Taking a break?" he asked, moving to stand beside her.

Y/N turned, and Joe caught something unguarded in her expression before her professional mask reasserted itself. "Just a quick breather. Lots of photos still to get."

Joe studied her profile in the dim lighting, noting the tension in her shoulders that suggested she was working to maintain composure. Being around him still affected her, despite months of careful distance.

"Your buffer system has evolved, I see," he said, unable to resist pushing against her boundaries.

"What do you mean?" Y/N asked, confusion flickering across her features.

"You're actually speaking to me at public events now," Joe replied, letting some of his frustration show. "That's progress from January."

Y/N's response was careful, measured. "I'm trying to be more normal about everything. Like I said when I got back from vacation—appropriate professional boundaries, not complete avoidance."

"That why you practically sprinted away from our table?"

"I have other tables to shoot."

Joe turned to face her directly, tired of the careful dance they'd been performing for months. "Come on. We haven't had a real conversation in months. And I'm supposed to pretend that's normal?"

He watched Y/N's composure start to crack, saw something raw flash across her features before she responded.

"Maybe you're not supposed to pretend. Maybe you're supposed to notice."

The challenge in her voice caught Joe off guard. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Y/N turned to face him fully, and Joe saw years of suppressed emotion finally breaking through her professional control.

"It means one day we're grabbing lunch and spending time together outside of work, and the next I find out you have a girlfriend because someone broke into your house."

The words knocked the wind out of him. He'd known Y/N had been hurt by how she'd learned about Ellie, but he'd never really understood what that had cost her.

"That's not how I meant for you to find out—" he started.

"But that's how I did," Y/N cut him off, her voice rising with months of contained pain. "And then I had to walk into a boardroom full of execs and help manage the media fallout. I had to craft a strategy, prep your talking points, anticipate questions—all while pretending like I wasn't finding out in real time that you'd been lying by omission for half a year."

Joe felt sick as Y/N spelled out what he'd put her through. She'd done her job, protected him, kept everything together while he'd basically lied to her face for months.

"It wasn't lying—" he began weakly.

"It was hiding," Y/N snapped, and Joe saw tears threatening at the corners of her eyes. "You hid her. Not just from the world, but from me."

Joe's jaw clenched as the truth of her accusation settled. He had hidden Ellie from Y/N specifically, had known instinctively that their connection was something he needed to protect his relationship from.

"You didn't owe me the details," Y/N continued, her voice shaking slightly. "But you knew what we were. What it felt like. You showed up in my life every day. You let it mean something. And when it stopped meaning something to you, you didn't have the decency to say a word."

Each sentence felt like an indictment Joe couldn't defend against. Y/N was right—he'd been a coward, choosing the easy path of avoidance rather than the difficult conversation that honesty would have required.

"I didn't mean to hurt you," Joe said quietly, the inadequacy of the words obvious even to him.

"But you did," Y/N replied, and Joe heard four years of suppressed pain in her voice. "Not by being with her. By making me feel like I never mattered in the first place."

The accusation cut deeper than anything else she'd said. Joe stepped forward, something desperate rising in his chest.

"You mattered," he said, his voice low but intense. "You still matter."

"Not enough," Y/N replied, and Joe saw the hurt that had been driving her distance for months. "Not enough to be honest with."

Before Joe could find words to respond, before he could explain that his dishonesty had been about protecting himself rather than dismissing her, Ellie's voice cut through the tension.

"There you are!"

Joe's heart sank as Ellie appeared on the terrace, beautiful and smiling and completely unaware of what she'd just interrupted.

"I've been looking everywhere for you, babe," she continued cheerfully. "They're about to do the team recognition on stage, and the owner specifically asked for you to join them."

Joe felt trapped between his public obligations and this moment of raw honesty with Y/N. His expression must have revealed his conflict, because he caught Y/N watching him with something like resignation.

"I'll be right there," he managed, his voice carefully controlled.

Ellie looked between them, clearly sensing tension but misreading its cause. "I'm not interrupting work talk, am I? I can tell them you'll be a minute."

"No interruption," Y/N said quickly, and Joe watched her professional mask snap back into place. "I was just about to head back in myself. I still have the owner's table to photograph."

Joe watched this transformation with something like grief. Y/N was protecting them both, maintaining the careful boundaries that kept their professional relationship functional.

Ellie smiled at Y/N with genuine warmth. "Your photos have been amazing tonight. I peeked at some on the photographer's display earlier—you have a gift for capturing genuine moments."

"Thank you," Y/N managed, and Joe caught the complicated emotions crossing her face at Ellie's sincere compliment. "That's very kind."

Joe couldn't let the conversation end like this, with everything still unresolved between them.

"Ellie, can you give us just a minute?" he asked. "We weren't quite finished."

Ellie looked surprised but nodded. "Sure. I'll tell them you're on your way."

But before Joe could say anything more, Y/N raised her camera between them like a shield.

"I think we are," she said firmly. "You should go. They're waiting for you."

As Joe walked away with Ellie, her hand slipping naturally into his, he felt the weight of everything left unsaid. Y/N had finally told him how much his choices had hurt her, had laid bare the emotional cost of his cowardice.

But she'd also made it clear that understanding her pain didn't change their reality. Joe was with Ellie, publicly and proudly, and whatever feelings existed between him and Y/N would remain unspoken and unacknowledged.

Walking back into the ballroom, Joe felt like he was returning to a performance of his own life. Smiling for cameras, accepting congratulations, playing the role of successful quarterback with perfect girlfriend.

But his mind stayed fixed on Y/N's words, on the hurt in her voice when she'd said he'd made her feel like she never mattered.

* * *

June 2025 - Bengals Facility

Joe sat through the morning film session barely paying attention, still thinking about the charity gala two weeks ago. Y/N's words kept playing in his head—how she'd said he made her feel like she never mattered, how she'd looked when Ellie showed up.

Since then, things had gotten even more formal between them. Not avoidance exactly, but something colder. Like she genuinely didn't care anymore.

"Burrow, you need those Raiders breakdowns from last season," the offensive coordinator said as they wrapped up. "Study how they disguised their coverage on third downs."

Joe nodded, already dreading the process. What used to be a quick conversation with Y/N was now a formal request through Tyler.

He found Tyler in the hallway. "Can you get me the Raiders breakdowns? Third-down packages specifically."

"Sure thing," Tyler replied. "Y/N will know where those are. I'll have her pull them."

Another reminder that he and Y/N couldn't even handle simple work requests directly anymore.

* * *

Cafeteria - Same Day

Joe grabbed lunch with Ja'maar and Tee, settling into their usual table while they debated the upcoming rookie development program. But his attention was immediately drawn to Y/N sitting across the cafeteria with Sam, their conversation looking relaxed and genuine in ways Joe's interactions with Y/N no longer were.

"You listening, man?" Ja'Maar asked, following Joe's gaze. "Oh. The Y/N situation."

Joe's attention snapped back to his teammates. "What?"

"Whatever's going on with you two," Higgins said, keeping his voice low. "It's been weird for months. You know that, right?"

Joe felt heat rise in his neck. "Nothing's going on. We work together."

"Used to work together," Ja'Maar corrected. "Now you work around each other. There's a difference. And everyone's noticed, by the way."

Joe wanted to deny it, but his teammates weren't wrong. The easy collaboration that had once defined his relationship with Y/N had been replaced by careful professional choreography that everyone seemed to notice.

"It's fine," Joe said, returning his attention to his food. "Just different workflow now."

But even as he said it, Joe found his gaze drifting back to Y/N's table. She was laughing at something Sam had said, looking genuinely happy in a way that made Joe's chest tighten with something he didn't want to examine.

As lunch wound down, Joe watched Y/N and Sam gather their things, noting how Y/N's posture shifted slightly as they approached his table. Not nervous, exactly, but more controlled, like she was managing her reactions.

"Y/N," Joe called out as they walked by. "Tyler said you'd pull those Raiders breakdowns for me?"

Y/N turned with a professional smile that revealed nothing. "He did. I've got staff pulling them. Should be in your inbox by this afternoon."

"Appreciate it," Joe said, recognizing the finality in her tone.

Something flickered in Y/N's eyes, like she realized how weird this had all become. But she just nodded and kept walking.

Ja'maar and Tee exchanged looks.

"Definitely nothing going on," Higgins muttered.

Joe didn't respond. There wasn't much to say.

* * *

That Evening - Joe's Home

Joe's phone buzzed with a text from Ellie as he reviewed the Raiders footage. She wanted to visit next week, maybe do some couples workout content.

Miss you. Can't wait to see you next week. Think we could do that couples workout content I mentioned?

Joe stared at the message. A perfectly reasonable request from his girlfriend. But all he could think about was how Y/N had handled his footage request—efficient, professional, completely detached.

He typed back something appropriate about looking forward to seeing Ellie, but the words felt empty.

The Raiders footage was perfectly organized, exactly what he'd asked for. Y/N's team had delivered as always. No personal touch, no acknowledgment of their history, just competent work.

Maybe that's all they'd ever really had.

* * *

July 2025 - Training Camp Preparation

Joe had agreed to give Ellie a tour of the facility before training camp officially began, though he'd underestimated how complicated it would feel to have her in his professional space. She was enthusiastic about everything—the weight room, the meeting rooms, the state-of-the-art equipment—asking questions that showed genuine interest in his world.

"This is incredible," Ellie said as they walked through the hallways. "I had no idea it was this extensive."

"It's pretty comprehensive," Joe agreed, though part of his attention was tracking familiar sounds and movements, unconsciously mapping Y/N's potential location in the building.

When they reached the cafeteria, Joe spotted Y/N immediately. She sat with Sam near the windows, laughing at something with the kind of natural ease he rarely saw from her anymore. The sight of her genuinely relaxed hit him harder than expected—a reminder of what their interactions used to look like before everything became careful and measured.

"Oh, there's Y/N!" Ellie said, following his gaze. "I should say hello."

Before Joe could suggest otherwise, Ellie was already calling out across the room. "Y/N! How are you?"

Joe watched Y/N's face transform in real-time—from natural laughter to polite professionalism in seconds. The shift was so smooth it was almost invisible, but Joe had been studying Y/N's expressions for five years. He knew the difference.

"I'm good, thanks," Y/N replied, standing as they approached. "Nice to see you again."

"You too," Ellie smiled warmly. "Joe's been showing me around before everyone arrives for camp. This place is amazing."

"It is," Y/N agreed, her tone perfectly light and professional. "Enjoy the tour."

Joe felt the need to fill the silence, to justify Y/N's presence in the conversation somehow. "Y/N's been here since my rookie year," he said to Ellie. "She's documented pretty much every major moment of my NFL career."

The words came out more pointed than he'd intended, carrying weight that felt almost territorial. Y/N's response was swift and deflating.

"The whole media team has," she corrected gently. "It's been a collaborative effort."

She was minimizing their connection, reducing five years of shared moments to generic teamwork. The dismissal stung more than it should have, and Joe found himself pushing back before he could stop himself.

"Not the rehab," he said, his gaze direct. "That was all you."

The moment the words left his mouth, Joe knew he'd crossed a line. Those rehabilitation sessions had been intimate—not romantically, but in the way that pain and vulnerability create connection. Hours of documenting his lowest moments, his frustrations, his small victories. Bringing that up in front of Ellie was claiming ownership of something that wasn't his to claim anymore.

Y/N's composure flickered for just a second before she recovered. "Well, that's what made it such compelling content. Your journey back."

Ellie looked between them, clearly sensing undercurrents she didn't understand. "Joe mentioned how much those documentary pieces meant to fans. Your work really connected people to his recovery."

"That was the goal," Y/N replied. "Glad it resonated." She glanced at her watch with practiced efficiency. "I should get back. Content review meeting in fifteen. Nice seeing you both."

As Y/N walked away with Sam, Joe felt Ellie's curious gaze on him.

"She seems really professional," Ellie observed. "You two work well together."

"Yeah," Joe said, though the word felt hollow. "She's good at what she does."

They continued the tour, but Joe's mind remained fixed on the cafeteria interaction. Why had he mentioned the rehab work? Why had he felt the need to establish that connection in front of Ellie? And why did Y/N's careful deflection feel like a rejection of their entire history?

His phone buzzed as they finished touring the weight room. A text from Ellie to someone—he could see her typing on her phone.

"Just reaching out to Y/N about those charity photos," she explained. "You mentioned she might have some good shots for my portfolio."

Joe's stomach tightened. He had mentioned that, casually, during their drive to the facility. But now it felt like another complication, another way his two worlds were intersecting in ways he hadn't anticipated.

"You don't need to go through her specifically," Joe said. "Any of the media staff can handle that."

"Too late," Ellie smiled, showing him her phone. "Already sent. She seems sweet—I'm sure she won't mind."

Joe stared at the text thread, recognizing the gulf between what Ellie thought she was seeing and what was actually happening. Y/N would agree to help because it was professional courtesy, not because she was "sweet" or happy to do anything involving Ellie.

But explaining that would require explaining why the situation was complicated, which would mean acknowledging feelings he'd spent over a year trying to suppress.

Twenty minutes later, as they wrapped up the tour, Joe's discomfort had crystallized into something that demanded action. He'd been inappropriate in the cafeteria, had put Y/N in an uncomfortable position, had claimed a connection that wasn't his to claim anymore.

"I need to handle something quick," he told Ellie as they reached the parking lot. "Work stuff. Five minutes?"

"Of course," Ellie said easily. "I'll wait in the car."

Joe found himself walking toward Y/N's office before he'd fully decided to go there. The cafeteria encounter had left him unsettled—his inappropriate reference to their private sessions, Y/N's polite but distant responses, the careful way she'd maintained professional boundaries even when he'd essentially ambushed her with personal history.

He paused outside her door, watching her work. She looked focused, unbothered by what had just happened. That steady composure that used to comfort him now felt like a wall he couldn't cross.

"Got a minute?" he asked, stepping into the doorframe.

Y/N looked up, her expression shifting to professional attention. "Of course."

Joe entered but didn't sit, staying near the door. Too much distance felt wrong, but getting too close felt presumptuous. "I wanted to apologize if that was awkward. Ellie wanting to see the facility was... unexpected."

"It's fine," Y/N said smoothly, and Joe heard the practiced ease in her voice. "She's always welcome here. She is your girlfriend."

The matter-of-fact way she said girlfriend hit harder than he'd expected. No emotion, no hesitation—just acknowledgment of reality. It should have been reassuring. Instead, it felt like a door closing.

"She mentioned asking about photos," Joe continued, feeling like he was navigating terrain he no longer understood. "You don't need to handle that personally. Any of the staff can pull those."

"I already told her I would," Y/N replied. "It's not a problem."

Of course you did. Y/N would never go back on a professional commitment, even if it meant spending time on something that might be uncomfortable. Joe studied her face, looking for any sign of the person who used to share inside jokes with him during long filming sessions.

"You've changed since your vacation," he said, the observation slipping out before he could stop it.

Y/N's eyebrows lifted slightly. "Have I?"

"Yes," Joe said, committing to the honesty. "More confident. More... definitive about boundaries."

Something shifted in her expression—not surprise, but perhaps appreciation that he'd noticed. "I gained some perspective. About what I need professionally."

Professionally. The word felt loaded with subtext. Joe felt himself standing at the edge of a conversation they'd never had directly, one that could either clarify everything or destroy what remained of their working relationship.

"Just professionally?" The question escaped before his rational mind could intervene.

Y/N met his gaze steadily, and Joe saw the exact moment she chose not to give him the opening he was fishing for. "That's what matters here. We work together. Everything else is secondary."

The gentle but firm redirection felt like a hand pushing him back from a line he shouldn't have approached. Joe nodded slowly, recognizing both the wisdom and the finality in her response.

"If that's what you need."

"It is."

Joe turned to leave, then felt the weight of something unsaid for too long. He paused, looking back at her.

"For what it's worth, I should have told you about Ellie directly. Before it became public like that. You deserved that much."

The words hung in the air between them. It wasn't everything he owed her, but it was the one concrete failing he could acknowledge without opening emotional territory that would complicate both their lives.

"Thank you for saying that," Y/N replied, and Joe heard genuine appreciation in her voice.

Walking back toward the parking lot, Joe felt the strange sensation of having both gained and lost something in the same conversation. Y/N had accepted his apology with grace, had shown him exactly where the new boundaries lay, had demonstrated the kind of professional maturity that made her invaluable to the organization.

She'd also made it clear that whatever personal connection they'd once shared was permanently in the past. No anger, no drama—just a careful, definitive reset that protected them both.

Joe should have felt relieved. Instead, he felt the hollow recognition that he'd just had what might be their last genuinely honest conversation. From here forward, everything between them would be filtered through professional necessity and careful emotional distance.

Back in the car, Ellie was scrolling through her phone, smiling at something on the screen.

"Y/N already responded about the photos," she said as Joe settled into the driver's seat. "She's so professional. You're lucky to have someone that organized on your team."

"Yeah," Joe replied, starting the engine. "She's good at what she does."

But driving away from the facility, Joe couldn't shake the feeling that he'd lost something irreplaceable through his own emotional cowardice. Y/N had offered him friendship when he was too afraid to pursue something deeper. When he'd chosen safety with Ellie instead, Y/N had adapted with characteristic grace, maintaining their professional relationship while protecting herself from further hurt.

Now she was moving forward while Joe remained stuck in the recognition of what he'd given up. Ellie was beautiful, uncomplicated, and genuinely caring. She should have been everything he wanted.

But thinking about Y/N's composed professionalism and the easy laughter he'd witnessed from across the cafeteria, Joe knew that should wasn't the same as was.

He'd made his choice months ago, had prioritized emotional safety over authentic connection. Y/N had accepted that choice and moved on with her life and career.

The problem was that Joe was starting to realize his choice had been wrong. And by the time he'd gained that clarity, it was already too late to change course without devastating multiple lives in the process.

* * *

September 2025 - Regular Season Begins

The season opener against Pittsburgh had everything Joe loved about football—intensity, precision, the satisfaction of executing under pressure. The 40-yard touchdown to Higgins in the third quarter had been particularly clean, the kind of throw that reminded him why he'd chosen this profession.

But even in the middle of game action, Joe found himself tracking Y/N's movements along the sideline. She worked with the same professional efficiency she'd always shown, directing her team while capturing content herself. When he'd thrown the touchdown, his first instinct had been to find her reaction among the crowd of cameras and staff.

She'd been there, doing her job, but the easy shared celebration they might have had a year ago was gone. Instead, their eyes had met briefly during his jog toward the tunnel at halftime—a moment of mutual recognition, professional acknowledgment, nothing more.

It should have been enough. It had to be enough.

After the 24-17 win, Joe handled his postgame interviews with the usual measured responses, discussed the offensive line's protection and the receivers' route-running. But part of his attention remained on the media activity around him, aware of Y/N coordinating coverage without directly involving herself in his interviews.

The buffer system she'd implemented was working exactly as intended. Joe respected the professionalism of it, even as he missed the collaborative relationship they'd once shared.

His phone buzzed as he changed out of his uniform. Ja'Maar asking about team celebration drinks.

Heading home, Joe replied. Good win though.

You sure? Team's in a good mood. Y/N's crew killed it with the content today.

Joe stared at the text, the casual mention of Y/N hitting harder than it should have. Rain check. See you at practice.

Joe was leaving through the players' entrance when he spotted Y/N in the hallway, walking toward the exit with her equipment bag. The facility was mostly empty now, the post-game energy settling into quiet.

"Heading out?" he asked, falling into step beside her.

"Yeah," Y/N replied. "Just finished content wrap-up."

"Good game coverage," Joe said, meaning it. "Saw the touchdown sequence. Perfect timing on the sideline reaction."

"Thanks," Y/N said, and Joe caught something in her voice—surprise that he'd noticed her work specifically. "Clean game from the offense. Especially that third quarter drive."

Joe nodded, wanting to continue the conversation but unsure how to navigate the careful boundaries they'd established. "Team celebrating?"

"Meeting them now," Y/N confirmed. "Sundry and Vice, I think."

"Tell everyone good work," Joe said, then found himself adding, "Your boundary system's working well."

The observation was too direct, too honest about how much he'd been thinking about the walls she'd built between them. But it had been months of careful professional distance, and something about the successful game, the natural flow of their brief conversation, made him want to acknowledge what had developed.

"It seems to be," Y/N agreed carefully.

Joe felt himself standing at the edge of honesty again, the same place he'd been in her office months ago. This time, he stepped closer to the line.

"I don't like it," he said quietly, "but I respect it."

The admission hung between them—his first direct acknowledgment that the professional distance cost him something personal. Y/N's expression shifted slightly, surprise and maybe something else flickering across her face.

Before she could respond, his phone rang. Joe glanced at it—Ellie's name on the screen. The timing felt like the universe intervening, reminding him why Y/N's boundaries existed in the first place.

He looked back at Y/N, seeing understanding in her eyes. She knew who was calling without him saying anything.

"Should take this," he said. "Have a good night, Y/N."

"You too, Joe."

Walking to his car, Joe answered Ellie's call.

"Congratulations on the win!" Ellie's voice was warm and genuinely excited. "I watched the highlights online. That touchdown throw was incredible."

"Thanks," Joe said, settling into his car while watching Y/N walk to hers in his peripheral vision. "How was your day in LA?"

"Amazing," Ellie launched into a detailed account of her photo shoot, the creative direction, the other influencers she'd worked with. Joe listened with divided attention, making appropriate responses while his mind remained fixed on his conversation with Y/N.

"I was thinking," Ellie continued, "maybe I could come to Cincinnati for the next home game? Actually watch you play instead of just seeing highlights?"

"That would be great," Joe replied, though something in him resisted the idea. Having Ellie at the stadium would make their relationship more visible, would require navigation of her inevitable interactions with Y/N.

"Perfect," Ellie said. "I'll check my schedule and book something. Oh, and thank you again for connecting me with Y/N. She sent those charity event photos and they're gorgeous. She really does have an amazing eye."

Joe felt his chest tighten at the mention of Y/N. "She's good at what she does."

"She seems really sweet," Ellie continued. "I was thinking maybe the three of us could grab dinner when I visit? I'd love to get to know your colleagues better."

The suggestion made Joe's hands grip the steering wheel tighter. The idea of a casual dinner with Y/N and Ellie felt like emotional torture disguised as normal socializing.

"We'll see," Joe said carefully. "Y/N keeps pretty busy during the season."

"Of course," Ellie agreed easily. "Just a thought. I know how close you are with your team."

After hanging up, Joe sat in the facility parking lot as it emptied around him. The conversation with Ellie had been pleasant, supportive, exactly what he should have wanted from his girlfriend after a successful game.

Instead, he found himself thinking about Y/N's measured professionalism, the brief moment of honesty they'd shared in the hallway, the way she'd handled his admission about not liking but respecting her boundaries.

He'd told her the truth, and she'd accepted it with the same grace she brought to everything else. No drama, no demand for explanation, just acknowledgment of reality.

But as Joe finally drove home through downtown Cincinnati, past the bars where his teammates were celebrating, he couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted tonight. Not dramatically, but subtly—like a door that had been cracked open just enough to let in light.

He didn't know what Y/N had been thinking during their hallway conversation, whether his honesty had surprised her or simply confirmed what she already knew about his feelings. But for the first time in months, they'd spoken to each other as more than just colleagues managing professional boundaries.

* * *

Late September 2025 - Exploring Options

Joe learned about Y/N's Giants opportunity the way he learned about most facility rumors—through Jake's casual mention during a quarterback meeting, delivered with the kind of off-hand certainty that suggested everyone already knew.

"Weird about Y/N maybe leaving for New York," Jake had said, reviewing route concepts on his tablet. "Gonna be strange if she goes. She's been here since your rookie year, right?"

Joe's pen had stopped moving across his playbook. "What about New York?"

Jake looked up, surprised. "The Giants thing? VP position or something. Thought you'd know—aren't you two always coordinating on media stuff?"

"We work together," Joe replied carefully, though his mind was already racing. "Haven't heard anything about New York."

"Huh. Maybe it's just rumors then. You know how this place gets."

But Joe knew it wasn't just rumors. Jake didn't spread bullshit, and he'd been too specific about the VP thing. Y/N was actually thinking about leaving. Leaving Cincinnati.

Leaving him.

The thought knocked him sideways, cutting through the careful routine he'd been living with. Over the past few months, Joe had grown comfortable with their new dynamic—respectful, functional, emotionally safe. He'd told himself that the boundaries Y/N had established were healthy, that their working relationship was better for being clearly defined.

But the possibility of Y/N leaving entirely forced him to confront how much he'd been taking her continued presence for granted.

That evening, Joe sat in his house, trying to focus on game film but finding his mind wandering to what Jake had said. He pulled out his phone, thinking about texting Y/N directly, asking about the rumors. But what right did he have to that information? They weren't friends who shared personal updates anymore. They were colleagues who maintained professional boundaries.

His phone buzzed with a text from Ellie, something about her flight plans for the upcoming home game. Joe read it without really processing the words, his attention still fixed on the possibility that Y/N might be planning to leave Cincinnati.

The realization hit him with uncomfortable clarity: he was more invested in Y/N's career decisions than in his girlfriend's travel plans. More concerned about Y/N potentially leaving Cincinnati than about Ellie coming to visit.

That recognition forced Joe to confront something he'd been avoiding for months. His relationship with Ellie, while pleasant and uncomplicated, had become more obligation than choice. He cared about her genuinely, appreciated her kindness and support, but he didn't feel excited about her presence the way he felt anxious about Y/N's potential absence.

Joe spent the evening researching the Giants' organizational structure and recent content initiatives. He told himself it was professional curiosity, wanting to understand what opportunity Y/N might be considering.

But really, he was trying to gauge whether New York represented something he couldn't compete with. Not that he was competing—he'd made his choice months ago. But the thought of Y/N building a new life in a different city, working with different players, creating content that didn't include him at all, felt like losing something essential.

The next morning, Joe arrived at the facility early, hoping to catch Y/N before her day filled with meetings. He found her in one of the editing bays, reviewing game footage with that focused intensity that had always impressed him.

"Morning," he said, stepping into the doorway.

Y/N looked up, professional smile in place. "Hey. You're here early."

"Wanted to get ahead of the week," Joe replied, then decided to be direct. "Jake mentioned something about a New York opportunity yesterday. Giants?"

Something flickered across Y/N's expression—surprise, maybe annoyance that rumors were spreading. "Nothing's decided," she said carefully.

"But it's real? The opportunity?"

Y/N set down her stylus, turning to face him fully. "It's something I'm considering. VP of Content Strategy position."

Joe felt something close to panic, though he tried to keep it from showing. "Big move."

"It would be," Y/N agreed. "Major market, significant creative control."

"Is this about the buffer system? About creating distance?" The question slipped out before he could stop it, revealing more of his concerns than he'd intended.

Y/N's expression sharpened. "My professional decisions aren't about you, Joe."

The response was firm, definitive, and both relieving and devastating. Relieving because it meant his complicated feelings weren't driving her away. Devastating because it confirmed that he wasn't a factor in her decision-making at all.

"Right," Joe said, trying to recover. "Of course not. It's just... you've built so much here. Five years of work."

"And there's opportunity to build something new," Y/N replied. "That's how careers work. Growth, advancement, new challenges."

Joe nodded, recognizing the wisdom in her approach even as it felt like a personal rejection. "And there's nothing keeping you here? Nothing worth staying for?"

The question was as close as Joe could come to acknowledging what he couldn't say directly. That he needed her presence in ways that went beyond professional collaboration. That the thought of her leaving felt like losing an essential part of his support system.

Y/N studied his face for a moment. "I've built a life here," she said carefully. "That matters. But so does professional growth."

The answer was appropriately professional, but Joe caught something in her expression—a flicker of recognition that suggested she understood the subtext of his question even if she couldn't acknowledge it directly.

"Well," Joe said, backing toward the door. "I hope whatever you decide works out."

"Thanks," Y/N replied, already turning back to her work. "I'm sure it will."

Walking away from that conversation, Joe realized he was facing a crisis he'd created through his own emotional avoidance. He'd chosen safety with Ellie over the risk of pursuing something real with Y/N. Now Y/N was moving forward with her life and career while Joe remained trapped in a relationship that felt increasingly hollow.

But what could he do? Breaking up with Ellie to chase Y/N as she was planning to leave for New York would be both cruel and pointless. Y/N had already demonstrated that she could build a life that didn't revolve around him. She deserved better than to be someone's backup plan or consolation prize.

That evening, Joe sat in his house, Ellie's latest text about visiting for the Ravens game still unanswered on his phone. He thought about their last conversation, her enthusiasm about meeting his colleagues, her suggestion of dinner with Y/N.

The image of that dinner—Ellie chatting brightly while Y/N maintained professional politeness, Joe caught between his girlfriend and the woman he'd been too afraid to pursue—felt like a special kind of torture. Especially now, knowing Y/N might leave Cincinnati entirely.

Joe finally responded to Ellie's text with vague agreement about her visit, though his heart wasn't in the planning. His attention remained fixed on the recognition that he was about to lose something irreplaceable through his own emotional cowardice.

Y/N would visit New York, would probably be impressed by their facilities and vision, would make a decision based on what was best for her career. And Joe would remain in Cincinnati, playing football at the highest level while feeling increasingly disconnected from everything that made success meaningful.

He'd had his chance to be honest about his feelings, to take the risk that might have led to something real. Instead, he'd chosen comfort and safety, and now that choice was leading to exactly the kind of loss he'd been trying to avoid.

Some regrets, Joe was learning, couldn't be fixed by better decision-making in the future. They could only be carried, carefully contained, while watching what might have been disappear into someone else's new beginning.

* * *

Early October 2025 - Before the Visit

The week before Y/N's trip to New York dragged by. Joe went through his usual routine—film study, practice, media obligations—but he couldn't focus, too aware of Y/N moving around the facility.

During Tuesday's media availability, Joe watched Y/N coordinate with her team from across the room. She looked confident, in control, like someone who belonged in a VP role for a major market team.

The thought made him feel sick.

"Earth to Joe," Ja"Maar said, snapping his fingers in front of Joe's face as they walked to the parking garage after practice. "You've been spacing out all week. What's going on?"

Joe refocused on his teammate. "Just thinking through game plan stuff."

"Bullshit," Ja'Maar replied bluntly. "This is about Y/N leaving, isn't it?"

The directness caught Joe off guard. "What makes you say that?"

"Because you've been tracking her movements all week like you're afraid she's going to disappear," Ja'Maar observed. "And because everyone knows you two have some kind of complicated history, even if nobody talks about it directly."

Joe felt heat rise in his neck. "We work together. Have for five years. It'll be an adjustment if she leaves."

"Uh-huh," Ja'Maar said, clearly unconvinced. "Look, I don't know what the deal is between you two, and it's none of my business. But if you've got something to say to her before she potentially moves across the country, maybe now's the time."

"It's not that simple," Joe replied, though even as he said it, he wondered if it was actually simpler than he was making it.

"It never is," he agreed. "But sometimes complicated is better than regret."

That evening, Joe found himself at the facility later than necessary, ostensibly reviewing additional film but really hoping to cross paths with Y/N. He'd heard through the staff grapevine that she was working late, finalizing content plans before her New York trip.

He found her in her office, surrounded by multiple monitors and notebooks, laptop open to what looked like presentation slides. She glanced up when he knocked on her door frame.

"Working late," Joe observed, stepping into the office when she gestured him in.

"Trying to get ahead before I'm out of town," Y/N replied, saving her work. "Don't want to leave the team scrambling while I'm gone."

Joe noted the careful way she'd phrased it—"while I'm gone," not "if I don't come back." Either diplomatic language or a decision already made that she wasn't ready to announce.

"Mind if I ask what you're expecting from the visit?" he said, settling into the chair across from her desk.

Y/N leaned back, considering her response. "Honestly? I'm trying to approach it with an open mind. The opportunity is substantial, but I want to understand the culture, the vision, what I'd actually be walking into."

"And if it's everything they're promising?"

"Then I'll have a difficult decision to make," she said simply.

Joe studied her expression, looking for any sign of what she was thinking beyond the careful professionalism. "What would make it difficult? I mean, from the outside, it seems like a clear career advancement."

Y/N was quiet for a moment, her fingers absently straightening papers on her desk. "Five years is a long time to build something. To develop relationships, understand a culture, create work that feels meaningful. Starting over somewhere else, even with better title and compensation, means giving up what I've built here."

"But?"

"But maybe that's what growth requires sometimes," she finished. "Maybe staying in your comfort zone, even when it's working, prevents you from discovering what else is possible."

The words hit Joe harder than she probably intended. He heard in them a philosophy he'd been too afraid to apply to his own life—the recognition that comfort could be its own trap, that fear of losing what you had could prevent you from gaining what you actually needed.

"That's a mature way to look at it," he said, meaning it even as it made his own choices feel increasingly cowardly.

"I'm trying to be," Y/N replied. "This industry doesn't give you many chances at opportunities like this. It would be foolish not to explore it seriously."

Joe nodded, recognizing the wisdom in her approach while hating what it might mean for his own life. "Well, for what it's worth, I hope they roll out the red carpet for you. You deserve to see what you're worth in a major market."

Something shifted in Y/N's expression at his words—surprise, maybe, or appreciation for his support despite his personal investment in her staying.

"Thank you," she said, and Joe caught a warmth in her voice that had been absent from their interactions for months. "That means more than you probably realize."

The moment stretched between them, loaded with recognition of their shared history and mutual respect despite the complications that had driven them apart. Joe felt the urge to say more, to acknowledge what her leaving would mean to him personally, to finally be honest about feelings he'd been suppressing for over a year.

But before he could find the words, Y/N's phone buzzed with what looked like a work emergency. The moment passed, replaced by the familiar rhythm of professional obligations and careful boundaries.

"I should let you get back to it," Joe said, standing. "Good luck in New York. I hope you get everything you're looking for."

"Thanks, Joe. I appreciate that."

As he walked back to his car, Joe replayed their conversation, noting how easily they'd fallen into genuine dialogue when the stakes felt clear. Y/N was preparing for a major career decision, and Joe was supporting her choice even though it might mean losing her presence in his professional life.

It felt both mature and devastating—the kind of selfless support you offered someone you cared about deeply, even when their success might mean your own loss.

Joe thought about Ja'Maar's earlier observation about regret versus complication. Maybe his teammate was right. Maybe the complicated conversation was better than watching Y/N leave without ever being honest about what she meant to him.

But sitting in his car in the empty parking lot, thinking about Ellie's upcoming visit and Y/N's pending trip to New York, Joe couldn't find the courage to risk everything for a conversation that might change nothing.

Some opportunities, once missed, couldn't be recovered. Joe was starting to understand that he might be living through one of those moments—watching something essential slip away because he'd been too afraid to reach for it when it was still possible.

The recognition felt like a weight settling in his chest, heavy and permanent. By the time Y/N returned from New York, Joe suspected his chance for honesty would have passed entirely, leaving him with nothing but the careful professional relationship they'd built and the knowledge of what he'd been too afraid to pursue.

* * *

Late October 2025 - The Breaking Point

Joe stood frozen in Y/N's empty office after she walked out, her words echoing in the sudden silence. The conversation had gone worse than he'd imagined possible, and he'd imagined it going pretty badly.

You don't get to jerk me around like this again.

The accusation cut deep, forcing him to confront the truth he'd been avoiding. From Y/N's perspective, his timing wasn't just bad—it was selfish. Cruel, even. Coming to her now, after years of emotional distance, just as she was ready to leave for something better.

Joe slumped into the chair Y/N had vacated, running his hands through his hair. He'd thought breaking up with Ellie would clear the air, would show Y/N that he was finally ready to be honest. Instead, it had backfired completely.

Y/N wasn't waiting for him anymore. And showing up now, claiming feelings he'd been too scared to acknowledge when it mattered, probably looked like manipulation rather than honesty.

His phone buzzed with a text from Ellie: Hope you're doing okay. Thank you for being honest with me. I knew something was off.

The message made Joe feel sick with guilt. Breaking up with Ellie had been the right thing to do—she deserved someone who could love her completely—but the conversation had been brutal. She'd handled it with more grace than he'd deserved, acknowledging that she'd sensed his emotional distance even if she hadn't understood its cause.

I'm sorry, he'd told her during their difficult conversation the night before. You deserve so much better than someone who can't be fully present.

It's Y/N, isn't it? Ellie had asked, her voice sad but not surprised. I could tell when we were at the facility. The way you looked at her.

Joe had confirmed it, hating himself for the hurt in Ellie's eyes even as he knew honesty was overdue. She'd cried, asked questions he'd answered as gently as possible, then packed her things with dignity that made him feel even worse about what he'd put her through.

Now, sitting in Y/N's office, Joe realized he'd hurt two people he cared about and probably gained nothing in the process. Y/N was more resolved than ever to leave for New York, and Ellie was nursing heartbreak she'd done nothing to deserve.

Joe's phone rang. Ja'Maar's name on the screen.

"How'd it go?" his teammate asked without preamble.

"Badly," Joe replied, staring at Y/N's empty desk. "Really fucking badly."

"What happened?"

Joe gave him the abbreviated version—the breakup with Ellie, the confrontation with Y/N, her accusation that his timing was manipulative rather than romantic.

"Shit, man," Ja'Maar said when Joe finished. "She's not wrong, though. About the timing."

"I know," Joe admitted. "But what was I supposed to do? Let her leave without saying anything?"

"Maybe," Ja'Maar said bluntly. "Maybe that would have been kinder than dropping this on her when she's trying to make the biggest career decision of her life."

The words stung because they were true. Joe had convinced himself that honesty was the right choice, but honesty motivated by self-interest rather than Y/N's wellbeing wasn't necessarily noble.

"So what now?" Joe asked.

"Now you live with the consequences," Ja'Maar replied. "You made your choices for years, and Y/N made hers. She doesn't owe you anything just because you finally figured out what you want."

After hanging up, Joe remained in Y/N's office, surrounded by evidence of her competence and dedication. Awards on the walls, thank-you notes from players, carefully organized files that spoke to five years of building something meaningful with the Bengals.

He thought about their first meeting during his rookie photoshoot, how Y/N had caught that fumbled football with ease and thrown it back to him with perfect spiral. She'd been impressive from day one, but Joe had been too focused on his own career to really see her potential.

Over the years, he'd watched her grow from a junior media coordinator to someone essential to the organization's identity. She'd documented his lowest moments during injury recovery, had been present for his biggest triumphs, had somehow become woven into every significant moment of his NFL career.

But Joe realized with painful clarity that Y/N had also built her own story during those five years. She'd earned promotions, developed innovative content strategies, gained recognition throughout the league. Her career wasn't just about documenting his journey—it was about creating her own.

The Giants opportunity wasn't Y/N running away from complicated feelings. It was her running toward something she'd earned through years of exceptional work. Joe's feelings were just unfortunate timing, not a reason for her to stay.

That recognition was both humbling and devastating. Joe had spent so long thinking about what Y/N meant to his career, his recovery, his daily life that he'd failed to consider what she needed for her own growth and happiness.

Maybe the most loving thing he could do now was support her decision, whatever it was, without adding more pressure or guilt. Let her choose New York if that's what would make her happy, even if it meant losing her presence from his life entirely.

Joe's phone buzzed with another text, this one from Y/N: I need you to know that conversation doesn't change my timeline. I'm still considering all factors. Please respect whatever I decide.

The message was characteristically professional, but Joe caught the underlying plea for space. Y/N was asking him not to complicate her decision-making process any further.

I will, he replied. And Y/N? You were right about my timing. I'm sorry.

He waited, hoping for a response that would suggest forgiveness or understanding. But none came.

Walking back to his car, Joe felt the weight of recognition settling over him. He'd spent months choosing emotional safety over authentic risk, then panicked when the consequences of those choices became clear. Y/N had every right to prioritize her career over his suddenly declared feelings.

But that didn't make losing her hurt any less.

Joe thought about the upcoming weeks—Y/N's final meetings with the Giants, her decision about New York, the possibility that their last real conversation had been an argument in her office. The idea that she might leave Cincinnati with anger or disappointment as her final impression of him felt unbearable.

Yet maybe that was the price of his years of emotional avoidance. Some opportunities, once missed, couldn't be recovered. Some honesty, when it came too late, caused more harm than continued silence would have.

Joe had finally found the courage to tell Y/N how he felt. Unfortunately, he'd found it at exactly the moment when she'd moved beyond needing to hear it.

* * *

Joe had walked into the leadership meeting with his usual focus, prepared to discuss winter content strategy and playoff scenarios. It was routine, the kind of organizational planning that happened every October. He'd expected updates on draft preparation, maybe some discussion about facility improvements during the offseason.

He hadn't expected to learn about Y/N's potential departure like this.

"As some of you may have heard, Y/N is considering an opportunity with another organization," Kayla said casually, as if she wasn't announcing the end of Joe's world. "We're in discussions about retention, but we also need contingency planning in case she accepts this new role."

The room went quiet, and Joe felt his chest tighten. Everyone was looking at Y/N, who maintained her perfect professional composure despite what had to be an uncomfortable moment. But Joe was looking at the bigger picture—Y/N might leave, and he was finding out about it in a fucking leadership meeting like some random staff member.

"Nothing's been decided yet," Y/N said calmly, and Joe heard the measured control in her voice. "I'm weighing options carefully, and regardless of my decision, I'm committed to ensuring a smooth transition if that becomes necessary."

Smooth transition. Like five years of building something together—professionally, personally, emotionally—could be smoothly transitioned to someone else. Like she was replaceable.

Joe tried to focus on the rest of the meeting, but his mind was spinning. When had she decided to explore other opportunities? How long had she been interviewing? Why hadn't she mentioned it during their coffee conversation or their brief exchange before her New York trip?

Then the answer hit him with sickening clarity: because it wasn't his business anymore. They weren't friends who shared personal updates. They were colleagues who maintained professional boundaries, boundaries he'd helped create through his emotional cowardice.

As the meeting wrapped up, Joe watched Y/N gathering her materials efficiently, preparing to leave as if she hadn't just casually mentioned potentially abandoning everything they'd built together. The unfairness of it—that she could consider leaving while he was supposed to just accept it professionally—made his composure start to crack.

She was almost to the door when something inside him snapped.

"So that's it?" The words came out louder than he'd intended, but he was past caring about discretion. "Everyone just finds out in a meeting that you might be gone next month?"

Y/N turned slowly, and Joe could see her calculating the optics of this public confrontation. "This isn't the place, Joe."

But when was the place? When had she planned to have this conversation with him specifically? When she was already packed and heading to New York?

"When is the place?" Joe pressed, aware that people were watching but unable to stop himself. "After you've already accepted? After you're already gone?"

"I haven't made any decisions yet," Y/N replied with that maddening professional calm. "And this is a professional matter I'm handling appropriately."

Appropriately. The word hit him wrong, the implication that his reaction was inappropriate while her potential departure was just good career management.

"Is it?" Joe challenged, taking a step closer. "Because it feels like you're making a major decision that affects a lot of people here without any real conversation."

"I've had those conversations with the appropriate leadership," Y/N countered, and Joe caught the slight edge in her voice. "With Kayla, with the content team. My career decisions don't require facility-wide consultation."

The dismissal stung. He wasn't asking for facility-wide consultation—he was asking why someone he'd worked closely with for five years, someone he'd shared countless conversations and moments with, someone he'd fallen in love with, was planning to leave without a word to him personally.

"So we just lose the person who's built our entire content strategy for five years, and that's supposed to be fine?" Joe heard the challenge in his own voice, recognized he was crossing lines but unable to care.

Y/N's professional mask slipped slightly, her frustration finally showing. "Why do you care so much?" she asked, the question more pointed than anything she'd said to him in months. "Why does this matter to you specifically?"

The question hung between them, loaded with everything they'd never said directly. Joe was acutely aware of their audience, of Kayla and Sam and other staff members watching this exchange with barely concealed interest. He was also aware that his answer could change everything—could destroy the careful professional relationship they'd maintained, could complicate her decision, could expose feelings he'd kept hidden for over a year.

But looking at Y/N, at the possibility of her walking away forever, Joe found he was past caring about complications.

"Because some things should matter more than titles and market size," he said, his voice quieter but no less intense. "Some connections are worth more than whatever the Giants are offering."

The word hung in the air—connections—and Joe saw Y/N's eyes widen slightly at the implication. He'd just publicly acknowledged that this was about more than professional courtesy, more than workflow continuity.

Before either of them could say anything else, Kayla stepped forward with diplomatic intervention. "Let's table this discussion. Y/N hasn't made her decision yet, and we'll have appropriate transition conversations when and if that becomes necessary."

Joe held Y/N's gaze for a moment longer, seeing surprise and something else—uncertainty?—in her expression. Then he turned and walked out, his control finally completely shattered.

In the hallway, Joe leaned against the wall, trying to process what had just happened. He'd publicly confronted Y/N about a personal matter, had essentially announced to the leadership team that her potential departure affected him more than professionally appropriate.

His phone was in his hand before he'd consciously decided to text her:

Joe: I'm sorry. That was out of line. Can we talk? For real this time.

He sent it immediately, then waited, staring at the screen. When her response came, it felt like a door closing:

Y/N: Not a good time. Need to focus on work.

Joe typed quickly:

Joe: I understand. But we need to talk before you decide. Please.

Then he waited again, but no response came.

Walking toward the parking lot, Joe felt the weight of what he'd just done. He'd destroyed months of careful professional distance in about five minutes of emotional honesty. He'd made Y/N's career decision about his feelings, had put her in an impossible position by making their complications public.

But he couldn't bring himself to regret it entirely. Because Y/N was considering leaving, and she hadn't told him personally, and the thought of her disappearing from his life without one honest conversation felt unbearable.

His phone buzzed with a text from Ellie about dinner plans, and Joe stared at it with the growing certainty that his entire life was built on lies he was tired of living.

Joe's phone buzzed again. Ja'Maar: Heard about the meeting today. You good?

Been better, Joe replied.

Want to talk about it?

Joe considered the offer. Ja'Maar was discreet, trustworthy, and had already figured out that Joe's interest in Y/N went beyond professional courtesy. Maybe external perspective would help.

Yeah. Your place?

An hour later, Joe sat on Ja'Maar's couch with a beer he wasn't really drinking, trying to explain a situation that felt impossible to articulate.

"So let me get this straight," Ja'Maar said after listening to Joe's halting explanation. "You've been in love with Y/N for over a year, but you're dating Ellie because it felt safer. Now Y/N's about to leave for New York, and you publicly freaked out about it in a leadership meeting."

"That's the summary, yeah," Joe confirmed, feeling even worse hearing it laid out so simply.

"And what exactly is your plan here?" Ja'Maar asked. "Because from where I'm sitting, it looks like you're about to lose both of them."

Joe set his beer down, running his hands through his hair. "I don't have a plan. That's the problem."

"Okay, let's think through this," Ja'Maar said, settling into problem-solving mode. "First question: what do you actually want?"

The answer came without hesitation. "Y/N. I want Y/N."

"And what about Ellie?"

Joe felt guilt wash over him. "Ellie's great. She's kind, supportive, uncomplicated. Everything I should want. But I don't love her. Not the way I love Y/N." The admission felt both relieving and terrible.

Ja'Maar nodded thoughtfully. "So you're staying with someone you don't love to avoid pursuing someone you do love. Because?"

"Because Y/N deserves better than being someone's consolation prize," Joe said. "Because breaking up with Ellie to chase Y/N as she's leaving for New York would be cruel to everyone involved. Because I had my chance and I chose safety instead."

"Maybe," Ja'Maar agreed. "But you're assuming Y/N's feelings haven't changed, that she's moved on completely. What if she hasn't?"

Joe thought about their coffee shop conversation, the carefully maintained professional distance, Y/N's composed reaction to his emotional outburst today. "She's handled everything with complete professionalism. If she had feelings, she's clearly over them."

"Or she's protecting herself from exactly this situation," Ja'Maar suggested. "From wanting something she thinks she can't have."

The possibility hadn't occurred to Joe. He'd assumed Y/N's professional boundaries meant emotional distance, but maybe they meant the opposite—maybe she was working harder to maintain control precisely because the feelings were still there.

"Even if that's true," Joe said, "the timing is terrible. She's got a major career opportunity waiting for her. She shouldn't base that decision on some guy who's been too afraid to be honest about his feelings."

"So be honest now," Ja'Maar said simply. "Before she decides. Give her all the information, let her make the choice with everything on the table."

"And Ellie?"

Ja'Maar's expression grew serious. "Joe, you can't keep stringing along someone who deserves better while pining for someone else. It's not fair to anyone."

Joe knew his teammate was right. His relationship with Ellie had become fundamentally dishonest, sustained by emotional cowardice rather than genuine commitment.

"Y/N's not answering my calls," Joe said. "After today's disaster, she's probably done with complicated conversations."

"Then you'll have to find another way," Ja'Maar replied. "Because in two weeks, she might be gone. And if you let her leave without being honest, you'll spend the rest of your life wondering what might have happened."

Driving home, Joe thought about Ja'Maar's advice. Being honest with Y/N meant risking everything—his professional relationship with her, his comfortable routine with Ellie, the carefully constructed life he'd built around emotional safety.

But not being honest meant accepting that he'd let fear dictate the most important choice of his life. That he'd let Y/N leave without ever giving her the chance to choose him, really choose him, with full knowledge of what he felt.

* * *

Three Days Later

The facility felt different without Y/N's regular presence. She'd been working remotely more often, only appearing for essential meetings, clearly maintaining distance after their confrontation. Joe found himself hyperaware of her absence, noting the times when she would normally be reviewing content or coordinating with her team.

He'd kept his promise not to pressure her, hadn't sent additional texts or attempted further conversations. But the waiting was killing him. In less than a week, Y/N would need to give the Giants her final answer, and Joe had no idea which way she was leaning.

"You look like shit," Ja'Maar observed as they wrapped up Wednesday practice.

"Thanks," Joe replied dryly. "That's exactly what I needed to hear."

"I'm serious, man. When's the last time you fuckin' slept?"

Joe couldn't remember. Since his conversation with Y/N, he'd been existing on caffeine and restless energy, his mind cycling through scenarios and regrets whenever he tried to rest.

"She's probably going to take it," Joe said, voicing the fear that had been growing stronger each day. "The Giants offer. Why wouldn't she? It's everything she's worked for professionally."

"Maybe," Ja'Maar agreed. "Or maybe she values what she's built here more than you think."

"Even after I fucked everything up with my timing?"

Ja'Maar considered this. "You know what your problem is? You think this is all about you. Y/N's decision, her feelings, her career—you keep making it about how it affects Joe Burrow."

The observation stung because it was accurate. "So what should I do?"

"Nothing," Ja'Maar said firmly. "Let her make her choice without your emotional baggage influencing it. If she stays, great. If she goes, you deal with it and learn from how you handled this."

Joe nodded, recognizing the wisdom even as every instinct urged him to do something, anything, to influence Y/N's decision in his favor.

That evening, Joe sat in his house scrolling through social media, where speculation about Y/N's potential departure had somehow leaked despite the organization's attempts at discretion. Fans were posting about losing "the best content coordinator in the NFL," sharing favorite videos and posts from her tenure with the team.

One comment thread particularly caught his attention: She made Burrow seem like a real person, not just a celebrity. Hope she stays.

The observation hit home. Y/N had protected his humanity while managing his public image, had found ways to show his personality without exploiting his vulnerability. She'd been more than just a media coordinator—she'd been a guardian of his authentic self in a world that constantly pressured him to perform.

Joe thought about all the moments Y/N had captured over five years, the injury recovery sessions that could have been exploitative but instead showed genuine determination, the community events that revealed his care for Cincinnati, the team interactions that demonstrated his leadership without making it seem forced.

She'd helped him become the person he wanted to be publicly while never making him feel managed or packaged. And now she was considering leaving to build something new, something that didn't depend on understanding Joe Burrow's complexities.

His phone rang. His mother's name on the screen.

"How are you holding up?" she asked without preamble.

Joe shouldn't have been surprised that his parents had heard about Y/N's potential departure. News traveled fast in NFL circles, especially when it involved key personnel.

"Been better," Joe admitted. "How much do you know?"

"Enough to know you're probably beating yourself up over timing and choices," his mother replied with characteristic directness. "Want to talk about it?"

Joe found himself explaining the situation—his relationship with Ellie, his feelings for Y/N, the disastrous conversation in her office. His mother listened without judgment, asking clarifying questions but not offering immediate advice.

"You know," she said when he finished, "sometimes the most loving thing you can do is want someone's happiness more than you want them in your life."

The words hit Joe like a revelation. He'd been so focused on his own loss, his own regret, that he hadn't fully considered what would actually make Y/N happiest in the long run.

"The Giants opportunity is exactly what she's earned," he said slowly. "Even if it means losing her."

"And if supporting her decision is the last gift you can give her," his mother continued gently, "then maybe that's how you show her what she's meant to you all these years."

* * *

Early November 2025 - The Offer

Joe tried to keep his normal routine after Y/N got back from New York, but he couldn't focus. His mind kept wandering to what the Giants had offered her, whether she'd already decided.

Around the facility, she kept things strictly professional—polite nods, brief work exchanges, nothing that acknowledged what had happened between them.

Ja'Marr noticed his distraction during Wednesday's practice.

"You missed that read completely," his teammate said as they reviewed route concepts. "Thompson was wide open on the comeback."

"I saw it," Joe replied, though they both knew he hadn't.

"Where's your head at, man?"

Joe glanced toward the facility windows. "Probably where it shouldn't be."

That evening, Joe sat in his house, staring at his phone. His mother had texted: How are you holding up? Any word on her decision?

Still waiting, Joe replied. Not well.

Remember what we talked about. Sometimes loving someone means wanting their happiness more than their presence.

Joe read the message twice. If Y/N's happiness was in New York, then supporting that choice was how he could prove his feelings were genuine rather than selfish.

But the thought of losing her forever—not just romantically, but from his daily life entirely—felt like losing something he couldn't replace.

* * *

Mid-November 2025

By the middle of November, Joe felt like he was going crazy. Y/N's deadline was coming up, and he had no idea what she was thinking. She gave him nothing—no hints, no clues, nothing.

After another sleepless night, Joe got to the facility early, hoping to see Y/N before his day started. But her office was empty, computer off.

"She's in the edit bay," Sam mentioned, appearing beside him in the hallway. "Been there since early this morning. Finalizing content transitions in case she needs to hand things over."

"That sounds... definitive," Joe managed.

Sam studied his expression. "Maybe. Or maybe just responsible. Y/N always has contingency plans."

Joe spent the day distracted, going through the motions of practice and meetings while his mind remained fixed on Y/N's absence. By evening, he couldn't stand it anymore. He needed to see her, to try once more to have an honest conversation before she made her final decision.

The edit bay was one of the few rooms still lit when Joe arrived back at the facility that night. Through the window, he could see Y/N working alone, surrounded by monitors and notebooks, completely focused on her screen.

Joe stood outside for several minutes, gathering courage for what might be their last private conversation. Everything he'd been too afraid to say for five years needed to be said now, before it was too late.

When he finally knocked and entered, Y/N's immediate tension was obvious. But Joe was beyond caring about professional boundaries or appropriate timing. This was his last chance.

Their conversation escalated quickly, five years of suppressed emotion finally breaking free. When Y/N accused him of not seeing her for years, of only noticing her now that she was leaving, Joe felt something crack inside his chest.

"It's mattered to me for five years!" she'd shouted, and Joe realized with devastating clarity how much pain he'd caused through his emotional cowardice.

But when she admitted that what existed between them had always mattered, something shifted. Hope and desperation combined into action before Joe could think it through.

He kissed her.

Not gentle or tentative—urgent, desperate, like he was trying to communicate everything he'd been too afraid to say. Years of restraint broke open all at once, and when Y/N kissed him back with equal intensity, Joe felt like he was finally home.

Her hands gripping his shirt, her body pressed against his, the soft sounds she made when he kissed her neck—it was everything Joe had imagined and more. The connection that had existed between them for years finally had physical expression, and it was overwhelming in its intensity.

When Kayla's call interrupted them, Joe felt the real world crashing back with brutal clarity. As Y/N answered professionally, her voice steady despite their disheveled appearance, Joe marveled at her composure while struggling to regain his own.

"That was real," he'd told her afterward, needing her to understand that his feelings weren't just about fear of losing her. "Everything I've said, everything I feel for you—it's real."

The vulnerability of that admission, spoken in the aftermath of their first kiss, felt like jumping off a cliff. But Y/N needed to know that his declaration wasn't just desperation or poor timing—it was the truth he'd been carrying for years.

When she said she needed time to think clearly, Joe forced himself to step back despite every instinct urging him to hold her, to kiss her again, to try to convince her through touch rather than words.

"Take all the time you need," he'd said, meaning it even as it felt like agreeing to his own torture.

Walking away from Y/N in that edit bay, her lips still swollen from his kisses, was one of the hardest things Joe had ever done. But his mother's words echoed in his mind: sometimes loving someone meant wanting their happiness more than their presence.

If Y/N needed space to make the right decision for her life, Joe would give it to her. Even if that decision broke his heart.

But as he drove home through the dark Cincinnati streets, Joe allowed himself to hope that their kiss had changed something fundamental. That Y/N now understood his feelings weren't just about timing or fear of loss, but about love he'd been too afraid to acknowledge.

One week remained. Seven days for Y/N to decide between New York and Cincinnati, between career advancement and whatever they might build together.

Joe had finally been completely honest. Now all he could do was wait, and hope that honesty hadn't come too late to matter.

The recognition that he might lose both Y/N's presence and her respect—that she might leave thinking poorly of his character and timing—was almost unbearable. But at least she would leave knowing the truth about how he felt.

* * *

The Day After

Joe woke up the next morning with the taste of Y/N still on his lips and the memory of her hands in his hair. But in daylight, doubt crept in. Had kissing her been right, or just more shitty timing?

He'd promised to give her space, but he was dying to know where they stood. Had their kiss changed anything for her, or just made everything worse?

At the facility, Joe went through his routine on autopilot, trying not to look toward Y/N's office. When Sam mentioned Y/N was working remotely again, Joe felt relief and disappointment—glad he didn't have to see her today, but also desperate to gauge her reaction to what had happened.

His phone buzzed with a text from Ja'Marr: You look like you either got hit by a truck or got laid. Which is it?

Joe almost laughed despite his anxiety. Neither. Something in between.

That sounds ominous. We good?

Ask me in a week.

Honestly, Joe had no idea if they were good. He'd finally taken Ja'Marr's advice, been completely honest about his feelings. But Y/N's response was still a mystery, her decision about New York still hanging over everything.

For the first time in years, Joe had no control over something that mattered this much. All he could do was wait and hope Y/N would make whatever choice would make her happy.

Even if it killed him.

[meameagirl]

Injury! -- Joe Burrow

Summary: Joe was away for a game and you couldn't go as he was gone you got hurt. You was freaking out but also worry to tell Joe as he at a game.

Word Count: 744

Slightly injury you, head injury, little blood , just Joe worry and fluffy

----------

Joe was at an away game and You had gone to a store to buy some decorations for their apartment. You just came back and set the bags on the table. You knew it was smart to wait for Joe to come home but You didn't want to wait another whole day for him to return. You start taking all the things you got and lay it out on the table. It was a little early to start putting Christmas things out but You couldn't help yourself.

You went to the garage to look for some nails and Joe’s hammer he kept here. Soon You find the hammer and nails and go back to the kitchen. You grab the Christmas Gnome and walk to the living room to put the nail in the wall and hang them up. Soon you walk back in the kitchen and grab the christmas garland and you glaze at the cabinet. “I should wait for him.” You told yourself but you being stubborn You don't listen.

You take your shoes off and only have socks on and climb on the counter and stand up on it. You look down. “Not too high I should be fine.” You said to yourself. You start putting the nail in the wall and grab the garland. You get on your tiptoes to hook the garland on the nail. When your foot slips off and you crash onto the floor head hitting the edge of the counter. You lightly groan, touch your head feeling wetness on your hand.

You start looking around feeling dizzy, slowly grab the counter to help you stand up. You grabbed a rag and got it wet with cold water. Press it on your head. You stay leaning on the counter with the rag on your head when your phone rings. You slowly dig it out your pocket seeing it was Jeo who was calling. “I swear he has super power and calls at the wrong time.” You softled said as you answered it.

You hear his voice didn't sound cheerful, must have had a bad game. “After that game I need your voice.” You swallow. He started to explain what happened but it was making your head hurt more so  you cut him off. “I did something stupid.” It got quiet on his end. Soon he says “What you did Y/N” You look up at the half hanging garland. “Might try to hang some garland in the kitchen and slip and hit my head.” You talk slowly. 

It got quiet again but you can hear he was getting up from the hotel bed. You hear him picking things up. Maybe his bag. “Joe?” Joe signs. “Didn't I tell you if you wanna hang something make sure I was home. So I can help so we can skip the whole injury park Y/N. Look, I'm on my way home. Clearly your stubborn ass doesn't understand when I talk. You're gonna listen now. Forget the damn garland and lay down just not flat.i be there in an hour or so.” You nodded even if he can’t see it. He hung up after.

This is why you hated that he called right after you fell. Were you gonna tell him no, maybe tomorrow when he was home. But that was so out of the bag. You knew it was better to listen to him and go lay down. You slowly walk to the couch and lay down on it. The rag lay on your head.

About an hour or two you hear the front getting unlocked and open. You hear his footsteps walk in. He puts his bag down and he walks over kneeling by the couch. He moved the rag. “Hey there, stubborn girl that I love.” You just groan and sit up. He helps you sit up, putting his hand on your back. “How your head darling” He asks as you lean your head on his shoulder. “Dizzy stops and the pain is not too bad.” Joe kisses your head lightly. “Maybe you learn your lesson and let me do the hanging when it comes to Christmas. Rather not have my girlfriend hurt over Christmas crap.” His arm wraps around you as you mumbles “good idea.” you snuggle against his body. And he gives you another kiss on your head. Getting hurt might have been a good thing, one Joe came home early and second the cuddles.

[heavyhitterheaux]

Protector (NSFW)

AN: This is long so be prepared 🫣

Synopsis: You and Joe had been infatuated with each other since you were both fourteen years old. Something happens in your senior year, causing you to have to break up with him and also making you have to hold onto a secret; giving birth to his firstborn child that he never knew existed.

Pairing: Ex-boyfriend!Joe Burrow x Ex-girlfriend!Reader

Do not engage if you are underage

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

The sun visor in your car came down with the swift movement of your hand so you could gaze in the mirror at your appearance. After applying another layer of lip gloss, you straightened out your necklace that contained his initial which was gifted to you from him on your sixteenth birthdays.

First it was meant for him, Joseph.

Now it was also meant for the little one you two made who wasn't quite so little anymore, Julian.

And after more than ten years, you still had it.

The only time it ever left its rightful place was when you had to clean it.

You still remember the conversation that you had when the two of you were just fifteen about the future that you planned to share with one another.

The two of you were laying down in Joe's backyard on one of the many blankets that your grandmother had knitted staring up at the night sky. It was one of your favorite past times between the both of you.

“So, what are we naming our kids when we have them?” Joe asked as he looked down to see you pick up your head from his chest to look at him.

“Hmm, never thought about it until just now.”

“After we're married of course. I'll be playing in the NFL and you'll be an aerospace engineer at NASA.”

“I don't know if I'm smart enough for all that.” You replied and Joe instantly frowned from your response.

“You are smart enough. Stop talking about yourself like that and selling yourself short.”

“Fine, I'm going to be an aerospace engineer at NASA.”

“That's better and I just thought of a name.”

“Tell me. But we need a name for a boy and a name for a girl so whichever one comes first we'll be ready.”

“I like Julian for a boy. His name will start with a J like mine.”

“You don't want him to be named after you?”

“No, I want for him to be able to have his own identity.”

“Good point and I like Julian too. Now for a girl.” You said as you adjusted to make yourself more comfortable.

“Juliet since you like Romeo and Juliet so much and I have no idea why.”

“Um, correction! I like the movie with Leonardo Dicaprio, there's a difference. Because truth be told they were both stupid as hell. How can you love someone after you've known them for like 2 hours?”

“Are you going to leave him for me?” Joe playfully asked and you rolled your eyes.

“Joseph, don't be stupid. It's us until the end of time, you know that and he is way too old for me.”

As you closed the mirror, you turned around to look in the backseat to see your son looking down playing his game and you called his name to get his attention.

“Julian.”

“Yes, mom?”

He looked up at you with those same blue eyes that his father had and you quickly sighed.

“Let’s make this quick so we can get in and out. Did you still want spaghetti for dinner?” You planned on staying the night at your sister's apartment before making the two hour drive to Cincinnati to your new house. You told her that you would cook dinner since she told you she couldn't even boil a pot of water.

Just like it was when she was 14.

“I guess.” He told you as he shrugged.

“What's that look for, bubs?”

When he was quiet, you immediately knew.

“I know you're nervous about us moving and starting at a new school, but you'll be fine. And besides, you have football camp in a few weeks to look forward to, that your aunt was nice enough to sign you up for.” You told him and he sighed but nodded his head nonetheless.

After you had gotten pregnant your senior year in high school, your mom was the first one to find out and within a week, you were in Texas with your grandmother and refusing to have an abortion like both of your parents wanted.

You had been there ever since.

After finishing high school with literally a month left, you went off to go to Texas A&M University on a full scholarship and then onto Harvard online to do your masters. From that time, you stopped talking to your parents and in turn they didn't allow you to talk to your siblings, Sabrina and Ryan.

You were one of the top engineers at your job in Texas and they recently opened a new facility in Cincinnati and asked you if you would be willing to transfer to get it off the ground.

It took you three months to finally make a decision.

The final thought as to why you were willing to do it had everything to do with Julian.

He was getting older and just about every week he was asking about his father.

His father, who was in fact Joe Burrow the quarterback of the Cincinnati Bengals.

Who also happened to be his favorite player who he was obsessed with.

He didn't know about Joe and Joe didn't know about him.

But that wasn't by choice.

It all boiled down to your parents as well as his, but mainly his mother.

Your younger sister had begged you to come and see her once she messaged you after she found your account on social media once you told her you were moving back to Ohio. However, you made her promise not to tell your parents. If she uttered a word, you would have no problem cutting her off because protecting yourself as well as your son was your main priority.

“Can we make brownies too?”

“With vanilla ice cream and caramel sauce on top.” You replied as you stuck your pinky finger out for him to wrap his around yours.

–

Robin did a double take as she noticed you in the aisle comparing two brands of pasta and could feel the color drain from her face.

She knew it was you, there was no denying it. You looked the same, but more mature.

She wanted to leave the aisle as soon as possible, but it didn’t quite work out that way since she also needed a box of noodles for dinner.

Hoping you wouldn't take too much notice of her, she made her way over and picked up the brand that she had always bought when you suddenly turned around and she caught your eye.

The expression that flashed across your face was unreadable as you were analyzing her. You were staring at one of the four people that had ripped your future away from underneath you.

The future that you and your boyfriend had planned in high school.

She was the first to speak and you were surprised she was even speaking to you at all. Considering what she had done.

And how much she didn't like you.

“Y/N?”

“Mrs. Burrow.” You flatly said as you threw the box of pasta in your basket.

“I… it's nice to see you.”

“Hmm.” You told her and quickly noticed that you had lost sight of Julian, but more than likely he was somewhere in the candy aisle. But to your surprise you heard his voice from behind you.

“Mom!? Can I get fruit loops!?”

When Robin set her eyes on who she assumed was her grandson, there was absolutely no denying it.

He looked similar to her youngest son except for the fact that he had curly hair which she assumed he got from you. Everything else was Joe up and down.

“You can get the small box.” You replied as you smiled at him go back down the aisle and turned back to Joe's mother.

“Does Joe know you're here?” She said in a soft voice and you were confused on why she even cared.

“What difference would it make if he did?”

“Is he…?” She asked assuming she was talking about Julian and wanted confirmation.

“He's nine and will be ten in December so you do the math and I know you see the resemblance. But for now I'm going to go so I can feed my child. Don't worry, everything is all still going according to your plan. But it's getting kind of hard to keep this a secret, right? I mean paying off your son's girlfriend's parents to keep them and her quiet about the pregnancy so that his future wouldn't get derailed.”

“Who told you that? And I did it for the both of you.”

“Bullshit. You never liked me to begin with and it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure that out and it doesn't matter who told me. You always had it in your mind that I wasn't good enough for him. All I know is that my son is going to know his father one way or another and there is nothing you'll be able to do about it. Good luck begging him for forgiveness. I hope you have a good night.”

Without another word you walked away from her and found Julian in the next aisle holding his box of cereal and browsing the candy aisle just as you suspected.

“We're making brownies, King Julian. So, no candy.” You said as he turned around to look at you.

“But I also need a snack before dinner and who was that lady you were talking to?”

“Stop trying to change the subject and no you don't.”

“Yes I do and I noticed she kept staring at me.”

“She wasn't anyone that you need to worry about because she isn't important and you can get one other thing. Now come on, your Aunt Sabrina is waiting for us.”

“Is she younger or older than you?” Julian asked as he grabbed a Snickers bar.

Just like his father.

“Younger and how old do you think I am?”

“Well I know you're old enough to have wine so you have to at least be 21. How old is she?”

“25.”

“Oh, never mind then.”

–

“I just can't get over how big he is and how much he looks like Joe.” Sabrina told you as the two of you were sitting at the kitchen table and her gaze was on Julian in the living room watching Netflix.

“The older he gets, the more and more he looks like him. Guess who I ran into at the store before coming here?”

“Who?”

“His mother. She saw me first.”

“Oh shit. And what did she say!? I know for a fact she never liked you. Anyone could see that.” Sabrina asked as her eyes went wide.

“First she was like it's good to see you and then asked if he knew I was here and I asked her what difference would it make if he did? And I basically told her to get out my face. And you’re right, she never liked me and I know for a fact that she thought I wasn't good enough for him or dare I say it the right ‘fit’”.

“I still can't believe how everything went down and how they never told him. Like that's their grandson. You two were supposed to be end game.”

“I know and I just… I hope when I gather the courage and strength to tell him that he wants to be in his life. Julian keeps asking about him and all he talks about is how he's his favorite player. I also hope that Julian won't despise me for not telling him.”

Little did you know that Sabrina had signed Julian up on purpose for the football camp. Not only because you told her how he loved to play but because she knew that Joe was hosting it along with Ja’Marr and Tee. She was going to make sure Joe knew sooner rather than later about how his ex-girlfriend fell off the face of the earth with his kid.

This had gone on long enough and wanted to see her big sister get her redemption story.

“From what I've seen, I think Julian will ultimately be relieved. It wasn't your fault to begin with and it's not like you hid it from him on purpose. And our parents were dead fucking wrong with how they treated the entire situation and I'm sorry that happened. I know I'm not responsible, but I also lost my big sister in all of that. And I'll never forgive them for it. It was like you disappeared off the face of the earth. And I never stopped asking about you.”

“I figured that out of everyone that you would. So when you messaged me, I got excited, not going to lie.” You said being completely honest.

“I only talk to them if it's absolutely necessary. The entire dynamic changed when you left. Do you ever think you'll talk to them? Can't blame you if you decide not to.”

“Probably not the best idea to talk to the people who wanted you to abort your kid.”

“Hmm, I guess not and you make a good point. But enough about that, what have you been up to? Do you really work for NASA?”

“Yes, as an aerospace engineer.”

“Like you always wanted. You were always smart as hell and could run circles around all of us. Only thing I know how to do is hair and make up. The parents were very mad when I dropped out and went to cosmetology school.”

“At least you figured out what you wanted to do and there is absolutely nothing wrong with that. There are still people who are 45 years old and don't know.”

“Good point.” You told her as she got up to get the brownies out of the oven that all three of you had taken part in making earlier.

“Oh and the day of football camp is my orientation so I won't be able to take him. Do you think you'll be able to?” You asked and Sabrina tried not to show the disappointment on her face.

“Yeah, sure.”

“But I should be there by lunch time. So I can see him play for the second half of the day. He's really excited to go.”

“Perfect! And I'm really excited too since I have never seen him play before.”

The wheels immediately started to turn in Sabrina's head and she just hoped and prayed that everything was going to work out exactly how she wanted it to.

The day of football camp, Julian had been bouncing off the walls from the moment he woke up. As promised, Sabrina stayed over the night before so that she wouldn't have a long morning in rush hour traffic trying to get to your house and then eventually the stadium on time.

To her surprise, when she got there and signed Julian in, Joe was nowhere in sight but she was still holding out hope as she looked over at Julian in his black jersey with his rightful last name across the back of it.

She learned last night that he had a jersey in every color, which had been your doing of course.

You had explained to her that every day was a battle on if the day finally arrived that you were going to tell him the truth. I mean what possible harm could it do at this point? When you were younger, you had been terrified of your parents, but not anymore and you were done keeping your son a secret.

When you finally gave birth to him on December 10th which also happened to be your birthday along with Joe's, you were instructed to not even give him the Burrow last name which was a part of the deal that was made between both sets of parents.

A deal that neither you nor Joe was a part of.

And none of them showed an ounce of remorse for what they had done.

About two hours or so into the day, Joe made his way to Paycor stadium since Ja'Marr had asked him and Tee to participate in a football camp with him for kids ages 5 to 17.

Tee had sent a text to let him know where they were and after parking his car and walking into the stadium he made his way over and was immediately greeted by the both of them.

“Joe, we think we found your long lost son.”

Ja'Marr joked with him as he gave him an eye roll in return.

“What in the world are you talking about? It is too early for your nonsense and Tee is no better for going along with you.” Joe told him and Tee held his hands up in defense.

“Now what did I do!?” Tee exclaimed while looking at him.

“An entire list so don't get me started now what kid are you talking about?” Joe asked and he followed Ja'Marr’s gaze to see.

“That one and look at that, he plays quarterback.”

“He is literally you with curly hair and freckles.” Tee added as he would glance at Julian and then glance back at Joe comparing the two.

“What's his name?” Joe curiously asked as he was watching him do drills.

It was almost as if he was looking in a mirror.

“Mm, Julian I think.”

Hearing the name out loud made a wave of emotions come rushing back towards Joe and he was trying to do his best and not be upset about it.

That was the name you two decided that you were going to name your baby boy whenever it happened.

Because Joe had been dead set on marrying you and he didn't want anyone else.

He still thought about you every day and knew that deep down he would probably never get over not knowing what happened to you and what made you suddenly break up with him for no reason.

It didn't make sense then and it still didn't make sense now and no matter how hard he tried to wrap his mind around it, he just couldn't.

He tried to move on multiple times, but he found himself always comparing his girlfriends to you no matter how hard he tried not to.

You meant absolutely everything to him and you were one of the very few people who believed that he would go on to do amazing things in college and eventually the NFL. From day one, your nickname for him was superstar or MVP.

“Wait…..” Joe started to say, but his focus was now solely on Julian.

“What?”

"Me and my ex-girlfriend picked out the name Julian for our son when we were in high school.” He said nonchalantly as he shrugged his shoulders.

“Uh? You didn't get her pregnant did you?”

“No, she definitely would have told me. But it was weird because one day we were planning our future together and the next she was breaking up with me. The entire thing never made sense. I literally haven't seen or heard from her since we were 17. What's his last name?”

“Deveraux.”

At that very moment as soon as the name left Tee’s mouth, Joe thought that he was going to throw up.

Ja'Marr and Tee both looked at him confused.

“Uh? You okay over there?”

“No. That's her last name.” Joe quietly said as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I… well maybe it's a coincidence.”

“How!?! That isn't a common last name!”

“And you having a mini meltdown isn’t helping the situation either. We’ll figure it out later when camp is over. For now we need to break them off into groups based on their age and get them ready to play against each other.”

The camp was only supposed to last from 9 am until 3 pm and as promised, you were actually allowed to leave early and looked down at your phone to see that Sabrina sent you the address to where it was held. Once you put it into your GPS since you were still learning your way around Cincinnati, the Paycor stadium popped up on your phone and you did a double take.

No.

Absolutely not.

But you also thought, it was still the off season and training camp wouldn’t start for a few more weeks. The likelihood of you actually running into him was slim to none. So that way you still had time to process and run through what you were going to say to him when you actually saw him.

Because it was bound to happen one way or the other.

All because his mom saw you and will more than likely tell him but fail to mention the child that you two share.

Once you got there, you spotted Sabrina’s car and quickly backed in next to her before making your way to one of the many gates that surrounded it to make your way inside. Once you told them you were here for your son, one of them was nice enough to walk you over to the field where all the parents were gathered. You quickly spotted Sabrina and she waved you over.

“Sabrina….”

“What’s wrong?”

“Why didn’t you mention that the camp was going to be held here and hosted by several Bengals players?”

“Oh, that? Um, I didn’t realize until we got here.”

“You were always bad at lying so I suggest you change your answer.” You told her as you crossed your arms and looked out towards the field and spotted Julian.

“Okay fine. I figured the sooner that Joe knew about Julian, the better. As soon as I saw that they were doing a camp before they started training camp in a few weeks, I immediately signed him up. And this was right after you told me that you were moving back here.” She whispered to you and you let out a deep sigh.

“I don’t know if I’m ready to see him yet. He probably still hates me for what I did to him.”

“But that wasn’t your fault.”

“Well, he doesn’t know that. Like you didn’t see the look on his face when I broke up with him. He looked so confused and hurt and I couldn’t tell him that I wasn’t doing it because I wanted to. I was doing it because both sets of parents made me. Have you even seen him yet?”

“Yes and he cut off all of his hair and dyed it blonde…. Again.”

“I remember when I dyed it blonde for him our senior year.”

“And got it all over our bathroom. Good times.”

“But, take a deep breath. He probably misses you more than you know.” Sabrina told you as she tried giving you words of encouragement but all you were doing was trying not to have a panic attack.

“He’s probably moved on and honestly when I think about it, it’s probably for the best. Hopefully it’s someone that his parents approve of.”

“Will you stop talking down about yourself? You were his first love and I’m sorry, that doesn’t go away overnight, it just doesn’t. The two of you were attached at the hip and I know for a fact that the two of you can get back to that and raise Julian together. Also, I want to be a bridesmaid when the time comes.”

“SABRINA!”

“What?!?! I’m just being honest. “

“A lot has to occur for that to even happen.”

“How much do you want to bet he has a ring picked out for you? And I see you’re still wearing the necklace he gave you on your 16th birthday with his initial. So, I rest my case.”

Sabrina knew for a fact that he had a ring for you since the day after you left because she had seen it, he immediately cornered her in a hallway at school to see what happened. At that time, she didn’t know, but all she did know was that your room was empty and that she was missing her big sister.

As Joe had finished helping the kids in his group put on the flags to get ready to start the game, he jogged to the sideline and as soon as he looked to his left, his jaw hit the floor and he started hitting Ja’Marr’s arm.

“OW! What is going on?!”

“That’s her and her sister Sabrina. Fuck that’s her, it’s really her.”

Ja’Marr followed his gaze and saw you talking to who he assumed was your sister and his eyes went wide.

“I… wait a minute…. Y/N is black?!”

“Uh yeah why is that important?” Joe asked him as Tee had come to stand next to them.

“It’s not…. I just wasn’t expecting her to look like THAT. I thought you said Athens only had like 2 black people? Damn, she’s pretty, how did you pull that?”

“Seriously?” Joe asked and Ja’Marr held his hands up in defense.

“I should have known the way you were eating that fried chicken you had been around some seasoning before in your life."

“Wait…. THAT’S HER?!” Tee asked and they both nodded.

Tee took a moment to look at Julian, you, and then Joe and simply nodded his head.

“You the baby daddy, alright.”

“Joe, stop trying to hide behind me, YOU’RE TALLER THAN ME. And did you forget you just dyed your hair? Y/N can probably spot you from a mile away.”

“I don’t know what to do! Should I go and talk to her?”

“For one of your nicknames to be Joe Cool, that is definitely the opposite of what is happening right now. Yes! Go and talk to her when we’re done or when the kids eat lunch.”

“What if she doesn’t want to talk to me?” He asked and they both just looked at him.

“Are you a hormone raging teenage boy again? I highly doubt that she wouldn’t want to talk to you.”

Meanwhile, you looked over to where Joe was standing next to Tee and Ja’Marr, and the butterflies in your stomach instantly hit you like a ton of bricks.

“Sabrina, he’s right there.” You told her as you tugged on her arm.

“And I hear wedding bells.”

“Seriously?! Now is not the time.”

“It’s the perfect time actually.”

“What do I say if he comes up to me?”

“Uh? Hi? Have you suddenly lost all of your brain cells? For you to be an aerospace engineer, I wouldn’t actually be able to tell.”

“That’s different!”

“The kids are about to have lunch anyway so just go up to him then. You actually should have worn less clothing to be honest so he can see what he’s been missing.”

“Uh no, for one there are children around and two, I just came from my new job so that’s a definite no.”

“Changing the subject for a minute, but Julian is actually really good.” Sabrina said as he watched him run down the field for a touchdown.

“Well, look at who his dad is.” You replied as you shrugged.

“Did he always want to play quarterback?”

“Mm hmm, and wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

“What do you think his reaction will be when you tell him?”

“I honestly don’t know. I know my baby like the back of my hand, but that I’m not quite sure about.”

“The baby who is almost taller than you by the way.”

“If he’s only nine now, I can’t imagine how tall he’s going to be when he stops growing.”

“How tall is Joe?”

“6’4.”

“Oh, so we have a little ways to go.”

When the first game had come to an end, Julian spotted you and ran straight into your arms.

“Hi bubs, are you having fun?”

“Yes! Thank you Aunt Sabrina for bringing me!”Julian said as he was still holding onto you but turned towards your sister.

“You’re very welcome, sweetheart.”

“Mom, before we leave do you think Joe will sign my jersey for me?”

“I'm sure he will if you ask him.”

Sabrina got a small smile on her face as she saw Joe walking up behind you.

“Julian, look. There he is, go and ask him.”

As soon as she said that, the butterflies that had been in your stomach the first time you saw them were there once more.

As you turned around, you were met with the sight of your ex boyfriend that you hadn't laid eyes on in person in close to ten years.

“Um, hi Mr. Burrow, could you sign my jersey for me?” He shyly asked as he held up the orange Bengals jersey with Joe's number on the back of it. He made sure to wear the black one, bring the orange one, and the white one was hanging up in his room on the wall while the other white one was hanging up in his closet.

“Of course I can. What's your name?” Joe asked Julian as he handed him the jersey along with a marker.

“Julian and I play quarterback just like you do. You're my favorite player and I've watched you ever since you played at LSU.” He proudly told him and Joe had to laugh to himself.

Julian had literally been watching him since he was 4 turning 5 and had been intrigued ever since.

“Really? Wow, that's a long time ago.”

“I want to play in the NFL one day like you and thank you for signing it.” He confessed as Joe handed him back his signed jersey and squatted down to his level.

“You're welcome and if you practice and work really hard, there is no reason why you can't make that happen. And listening to your mom is also going to help.” Joe told him as he glanced up at you and winked.

Okay so maybe he wasn't mad like you thought he was going to be.

Julian eagerly nodded as Sabrina grabbed his hand and started to pull him in the other direction.

“Now come on and let’s get in line for some food. Your mom has something that she needs to take care of.” Sabrina said and you looked at her confused.

“Wait, what?”

She grabbed Julian’s hand and mouthed to you ‘talk to him’. Once they were both out of earshot, you heard his voice.

“It’s really you.” He quietly said and you simply nodded.

“And it’s really you.” You replied as your necklace caught Joe’s eye.

“You still have it…” He said more as a statement then as a question as he reached up to play with the charm.

“I'm wearing it for two people now. Joseph Lee and Julian Oliver. Only time I take it off is to get it cleaned and then it goes right back on.”

Joe nodded his head and looked in the direction of where Julian was standing next to Sabrina, you followed his gaze and sighed.

“Yes.” You quietly said and you immediately got a guilty look on your face.

“I…”

“There is so much that I have to tell you and cannot do it in a span of five minutes. But yes. You keep looking at him so I answered your question for you because I know what you're thinking.”

“He looks just like me. How old is he?”

“He’ll be ten on December 10th.”

“The same day as ours.” Joe replied and you slowly nodded your head.

“I know we don’t have a lot of time right now, but please understand that I didn’t break up with you because I wanted to, I did it because I was told to and being a scared teenager doesn’t leave you with a lot of options. Just wanted you to know that.”

Joe slowly nodded his head and you couldn't quite read the expression on his face.

“After the kids are done, can we go somewhere and talk? Just us?”

“Of course, I’ll see if my sister can take Julian.”

“And he has no idea does he?” He asked, referring to Julian and you shook your head no.

“So, all this time?”

“You can be mad at me because I would be too, but I moved back because I was done hiding him. He deserves better than that. I wanted for him to know you and for you to know him because that is ultimately who ended up being hurt by all this.”

“He seems like a great kid. And I expect nothing less if he came from you.”

“He is and he is exactly how I imagined that he would be. Just about everything he does reminds me of you.”

—

Sabrina took Julian without a second thought to give you and Joe time to talk when you had asked her. The two of you decided on one of Joe’s favorite restaurants in the city and made sure that the two of you got a booth in a corner away from everyone else so the goal was no one would bother him.

You were looking over the drink menu, when you could feel Joe staring at you.

“I see some things haven’t changed. Joey, it's not nice to stare.” You told him as you laughed and felt your cheeks heat up and all he did was smile in response.

“Can’t help it if you’re so pretty. Gorgeous now actually. Always been that way.”

“Smooth talker Joe Burrow definitely hasn’t changed.”

It was quiet for a few seconds as both of you were once again scanning the menu when you blurted it out.

“I took a pregnancy test on April 1st because I felt off and before I could tell you, my mom found it.”

“And then what happened?”

“She talked to my dad and in turn both of them talked to your parents...” Joe immediately cut you off.

“Wait, they knew?” He asked and you gave him a slow nod.

“I was told to break up with you and that I had to move in with my grandmother in Texas while your parents paid mine off not to say anything. I only found out about that part last year.”

Joe stayed quiet so you continued.

“So, the day I broke up with you once again, obviously not my choice, a few days later I was on a plane to Texas. My parents said the only way that I would be allowed back in their house was if I got an abortion and I was not allowed to say anything to anyone about it. Of course by now you can see what my answer had been. I haven’t talked to my parents since and I don’t plan to. Looking back on it, I would have done things a little differently.”

“What would you have done differently?”

“Made sure that I told you because that wasn’t fair. You have been thinking for almost ten years that I didn’t want to be with you anymore and that was the furthest thing from the truth and you missed out on knowing your son. We can do a DNA test too to confirm. The last thing that I want anyone to say is that I’m lying.”

When Joe remained quiet, you reached your hand across the table to take his.

“I’m really sorry and I should have told you sooner and…”

“Stop. Y/N just stop.” He told you as he used the other hand to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“I know you’re mad….”

“I am mad, but pissed off is more like it but it’s not towards you.”

“Oh.”

“You had to go through that all by yourself when I could have been there. My son doesn’t even know who I am. I mean technically he does, but not in the capacity that I want him to.”

You slowly nodded as you allowed him to let all of his feelings about the situation be known.

“My parents knew I had a kid and did everything they could in order to keep me away from him.”

“And I missed out on nine years… almost ten.”

It almost looked as if Joe was about to cry, but did his best to compose himself.

“And you named him Julian Oliver, just like we both wanted.”

“I did, but I was told that I couldn’t give him your last name since they took the money or whatever.”

“And here I was thinking that I would never see you again.”

“The feeling is mutual, except on the tv when I watch you play of course. I knew from the beginning how good you were and that you playing in the NFL was bound to happen.” You said as you smiled at the thought of you two sneaking out and going to the park near both of your houses and laying down in the grass to look up at the night sky.

“You did and told me from day one even if I didn’t believe it myself.”

“I know this is a lot to take in but…”

“Just tell me everything, it’s just better to get everything all out in the open once and for all.”

“I mean that's the majority of what happened. I lived in Texas, graduated, went to Harvard. Got a job at NASA…” You started to say as Joe cut you off.

“Wait…. Back up, you actually did it?”

“Yes, you are looking at one of the top aerospace engineers at NASA. I moved back because they opened up a new facility here in Cincinnati.”

“I'm proud of you. I always knew you would end up working for NASA.”

“Thank you and this is the first time I've seen Sabrina too. Because I told my parents I wouldn't get an abortion, I couldn't talk to my siblings anymore. They didn't come to my graduation. I mean, I moved when there was literally a month of school left. I didn't go to prom because if I didn't go with you, it wasn't happening. My grandmother was my only saving grace. I didn't want to leave her and come up here, but she told me that would probably be the best thing for Julian. When my mom or dad would call to talk to her, they never asked about me. That was when my grandmother told me that she cheated on my dad and got pregnant with me and she felt that their relationship would go back to the way it was before it happened if they just got rid of me in a sense. They don't know that I know that. So my mother literally hates me and I don’t know who my actual dad is.”

Joe looked at you in disbelief and every time he opened his mouth to say something, he immediately closed it.

“I'm sorry you had to find out that way and sorry that it even happened at all.”

Before answering, you shrugged your shoulders and waved him off.

“It is what it is.”

“Y/N, no it isn't. That is some heavy shit you've been carrying around for ten years. Have you talked to anyone about that?”

“No and I don't want to. What good will it do?”

“You know better. Priorities can include Julian, but also includes yourself.”

“I guess, but not now. It's just… it's hard trying to wrap your mind around the fact that just about everyone in your life hates you and you were essentially a mistake.”

“You've always talked down on yourself and I see some things never change.”

“Sabrina said the same thing.”

“So that obviously means that we're telling the truth. You have always been the smartest and prettiest one in the room and it's still true now.”

“Even if I am, I'll probably never see it that way.”

After the two of you spent at least 2 more hours with each other, you exchanged numbers and it would be decided when and how the two of you would tell Julian.

The thought was exciting, but Joe was also dreading it. What if Julian despised him for not being there for him as well as you?

But for now, the day ended with a lot for Joe to think about.

Seeing you for the first time in ten years

Oh and the biggest one with you and him sharing a child that you were essentially bribed and threatened in a way to stay quiet about.

Knowing that his parents knew the entire time made Joe sick to his stomach.

He also had a feeling that both Ja’Marr and Tee would have their phones in their hands waiting for an update on what had happened. Before he could send the message that he had just typed, Tee beat him to it.

Tee- 👀👀👀

Uno- Spill the damn tea and stop leaving us in suspense

Joe- He's mine

Tee- I KNEW IT

Uno- Soooo I need details on why you didn't know about this….

Joe- My parents paid hers off not to tell me and made her move to Texas to live with her grandmother. And apparently she would only be allowed to move back if she got an abortion and of course as we can all see, she didn’t

Tee- YOUR PARENTS KNEW!?

Uno- This is some Tyler Perry movie shit 😫

Joe- They knew and pissed off doesn't even begin to describe how I'm feeling right now. I missed out on damn near ten years of my son's life. He has no idea who I am

Tee- Technically he does know who you are

Uno- But still that shit is CRAZY. So are the two of you going to tell Julian?

Joe- Yeah, but I'm getting a DNA test first because Y/N won't take no for an answer and I get it. I know he's mine and she does too obviously but that way no one will be able to say anything about it. We have to decide when we're going to tell him. I don't know how he's going to take it.

Uno- Whatever you need from us, we got you

Tee- Ditto

Joe- Appreciate it. First thing I need to do is confront my parents and ask them why they kept this from me

About a week or so passed and Joe had been ignoring the calls from his parents. He would talk to them a few times a week, but ever since he found out they knew about Julian, he really didn't know what to say to them.

However, he did promise to have Sunday dinner with them and he planned on confronting them and getting this out in the open once and for all.

There Joe was sitting at the dinner table with his parents and pushing his food around on his plate. Both Jimmy and Robin noticed and they exchanged a glance with one another before Jimmy asked if he was okay.

“Joe, you okay over there? It's one of your favorite meals and you've barely even touched it.”

“You know what, dad? No, I'm not okay.” He replied as he set his fork down and looked at him.

“Why? Did something happen?” Robin asked and he was doing his best in order not to roll his eyes.

“Something did happen and I don’t like being lied to.”

“Who lied about something?”

“Apparently the two people who have the title of being my parents tried to hide the fact that I have a child who is damn near ten years old. So, no one was going to say anything?”

Joe looked at both his parents in anticipation as the question he asked them lingered in the air.

When both of them were quiet, he spoke up again.

“Oh, so no one has anything to say?”

“Joseph, we did it to protect you as well as your future.” Jimmy finally spoke up as Robin remained quiet.

“Protect me from what exactly? Because that literally makes no fucking sense and you know it.”

“I don't care how old you are, watch your mouth when you talk to us.” Robin said as she crossed her arms and finally looked at him.

“I can't believe you two, but especially you. When Y/N broke up with me which I learned was your doing all along I came and confided in you not knowing what you had actually done. And let me ask, were you ever going to say anything?”

“I….”

“Never mind because whatever excuse you're about to pull out of your ass isn't worth it.”

“JOSEPH LEE BURROW!”

“NO, I GET TO BE PISSED OFF NOT YOU TWO. I GOT TO MISS OUT ON THE FIRST NINE YEARS OF MY SON'S LIFE BECAUSE YOU TWO PAID HER PARENTS NOT TO SAY ANYTHING ABOUT IT AND MADE HER DISAPPEAR FROM MY LIFE. I PLANNED ON MARRYING HER AND I WOULD HAVE DONE IT IF SHE HAD GOTTEN PREGNANT OR NOT.” Joe had been seeing red from the moment he stepped into his parents house and did not plan on backing down.

“We get you're upset, but let's calm down so we can talk.”

“You should have talked to me almost ten years ago. For now, I'm done. But answer this, forget about me for a minute. How could you do that to your own grandchild?”

“We never wanted to hurt you.”

“Hmm, funny. Because the people who did end up getting hurt were me, Y/N, and Julian. That's his name in case either of you wanted to know.”

“I saw Y/N with him about a month ago when I went to the grocery store.” Robin quietly said and Joe just shook his head at her.

“And you didn't say anything!?”

“When I saw him…. He is literally you up and down. There's no denying it. I know that us saying sorry is not going to cut it but….”

“You're right, it's not. Nothing you say is going to cut it or make me forgive you two for what you did. Y/N had NO ONE. She went through that by herself. Her parents shipped her off to Texas because she refused to get an abortion. I don't care what I would have had to do, she meant everything to me and I would have done anything to make sure that they were both okay. Now when we finally do tell him, he's going to wonder why I wasn't there.” Joe stated as he pushed his chair away from the table and stood up.

“Joseph…”

“I'm done. I don't want to talk to either of you right now.”

Once Joe was settled in his car, he immediately called you on facetime so that he would have you to keep him company on the long drive home that he had. When he pulled out of his parents driveway, you finally answered.

When Joe's face came into view, you could tell that he was upset and that something had happened.

“Joey? Is everything okay? What's going on?” You asked as you got up to head into your bedroom to be able to talk to him without Julian overhearing.

“I just left my parents house.”

“Okay? What is that look on your face for?”

“I asked them why they lied to me for almost ten years and of course no one had a good answer as to why they did it.” Joe breathed out as he pulled onto the highway.

“Oh and my mom mentioned seeing you about a month ago and failed to tell me anything. They're trying to apologize now but for what? Why even do it at this point? You knew what you were doing from the beginning.”

“I don't want to come in between you and your parents. I know how close you are with them.”

“It doesn't even matter. What's right is right and what's wrong is wrong and in this case they're dead wrong. And they also knew how I felt about you and how important you are to me.”

“Joey… hear me out for a second.”

“I'm listening.”

“Your feelings are completely valid and I'm not downplaying how you feel at all. But instead of focusing on being pissed at them, focus on finally being able to be a part of Julian’s life. He deserves you and you deserve him. I need you to be in the right and the best headspace. Do not come around him with that hanging over your head.”

“I… get it. I'm just… I can't believe that they would do that to me.”

“I know, but good news…”

“What is it?”

“DNA results are back and it's confirmed that you're my baby daddy even though we already knew.” You told him and saw a small smile form on his face.

“Now we just have to decide when we're going to tell him.” Joe told you as he sighed.

“Who knows? It might actually go better than we think it will.” Deep down you were not only trying to convince Joe, but convince yourself.

“But what if it doesn't?”

“Then we'll figure out a plan if it comes down to it. Do you want to wait until after training camp?”

“I was thinking the same thing. And maybe you two can come to the first home game of the season? And then we can go from there.” Joe's heart started to beat faster and he wasn't quite sure if it was nervousness or excitement.

“I like that idea.”

As promised, Joe made sure the two of you had tickets to the first home game of the season and the two of you were going to be directly behind the Bengals bench. Joe wanted you to be in his suite, but you told him that Julian had never been to an NFL game and needed to get the full experience.

Joe had sent you a text earlier saying that he couldn't wait to see the both of you and that the two of you should tell Julian after the game.

There Julian was next to you sitting there in awe and munching on his hot dog as he anxiously waited for the game to start. He dragged you as soon as the gates opened so he wouldn't miss anything. That was when you spotted Joe and a few other players come out the tunnel to come and warm up.

“Julian, look up.” You told him and his eyes immediately went to Joe.

“Mom! He's right there and there's Ja’Marr, Tee, and Andrei.”

“I see and look who's walking over here?” You replied as Joe began walking towards the two of you.

“I don't have anything for him to sign!”

“He signed your jersey already!”

“Oh, right. I forgot.” Julian said as he slumped down in his chair and you couldn't help but to laugh.

“Hey Julian.”

“You remember my name?” He asked as his eyes went wide and Joe nodded his head as Julian stood up to stand against the railing.

“Of course I do. And your mom told me that this is your first NFL game in person.” He said as he turned to look at you and wink, making a smile form on your face.

“It is. I usually just watch it at home with my mom.”

“I hope I'm able to see you a lot more this season.”

“Well, you have to talk to my mom, she's the boss.” Julian said and you stifled a laugh.

“I definitely think that I'm going to be able to convince her.”

Julian smiled at Joe as he went back to eating his hot dog and Joe motioned for you to come closer to him.

“Hmm, I knew you would look good in my jersey, but I didn’t expect you to look this good.”

“I figured that you would like it.”

“That’s putting it lightly. So we still on for later?”

“Yeah, I'm cooking so just come by when you're done here and we can go from there. Since it's going to be after the game, I plan on making you a cheat meal. I already texted you the address.”

“I most definitely have missed your cooking so no complaints here.”

“Well ten years have passed and I've gotten a lot better.”

“That isn't all that's gotten a lot better.” Joe told you as he looked you up and down and you could feel your cheeks heat up.

“Joey, go finish warming up and behave yourself.”

“I am behaving! Just calling it like I see it.”

“I beg to differ.”

Even though the Bengals didn't come away with a win, Julian was still excited nonetheless to be able to go in person. You were now standing in front of the stove while Julian was sitting at the kitchen table and playing on his iPad that you had recently gotten him when the doorbell rang and you knew it was Joe since you could see him on the security camera.

“Bubs, can you go see who's at the door for me?”

“Yes, mom.”

Julian basically sprinted towards the door and when he opened it, his mouth hit the floor.

“Hey Julian, your mom invited me for dinner.”

“I… Uh…” He started to stutter and you suddenly appeared next to him.

“Julian, don't leave our guest waiting outside. Invite him in already.” You said as you smiled at him and he immediately moved to the side so that he could come in.

He had a bouquet of flowers in his hands and quickly gave it to you while also hugging you.

If it was left up to you, you would have stayed in that hug forever.

“Pink roses still your favorite?” He asked and you quickly nodded.

“Yes, still my favorite, but now peonies are high up on my list too.”

“I'll keep that in mind for next time. It smells good in here, what are you making?” He asked as he was now following your lead into the kitchen.

“Tacos. Always a good cheat meal and still one of your favorites?”

“Still one of my favorites.”

Watching both Julian and Joe stuff their faces with tacos was comical. It was the fact that they both fixed their tacos the exact same way and you noticed right away. Being that you were so nervous about how Julian was going to react, you didn't have much of an appetite. When Joe finished, he looked up and made eye contact with you as you then took a deep sigh.

It was now or never so let's get this over with.

“Julian, I have something that I need to tell you.”

“Okay, what is it? Are we still going to the aquarium?”

“Yes, we're still going and it's something else. Something that you have been steadily asking me about for a while.”

“A puppy?!”

“Uh no. Not exactly. Julian, Joe is your dad.” You finally said and he looked confused as he glanced back and forth between the both of you.

“Hold on, I don't get it.”

“It’s taken….” You started to say and he immediately cut you off.

“You knew this the entire time and kept him from me?” Julian asked and you knew that shit had officially hit the fan.

“It wasn't that simple, Julian.” Joe immediately spoke up as he looked at him.

“How is it not? I thought you didn't want me but you've been here the entire time.”

“The difference was that I didn't know about you, it wasn’t the fact that I didn’t want you.”

“Julian, just listen for a minute.” You said but he made a face at you.

“Why should I? What else are you lying to me about?”

“I…”

Without another word, Julian pushed himself away from the table and ran upstairs to his room leaving both you and Joe at the table looking at one another.

“Deep down I knew this was going to happen.” You quietly said as you started to play with the ends of your braids.

“I'll go and talk to him, it'll be fine.” Joe told you as he grabbed your hand and gave it a small squeeze before standing up and going to talk to Julian.

Joe took the steps two at a time and there was no denying which room was his, seeing as his walls were covered in any and everything Bengals related.

“Julian, can I come in?” Joe asked him as he stood in the hallway in front of his bedroom door.

He nodded as he angrily wiped tears away from his face.

Joe walked in and sat down next to him and sighed.

“I know you're upset, but don't take it out on your mom.”

“But she lied to me.”

“She didn't necessarily lie, she was just trying to protect you. None of this has been easy for her. And I can imagine that it hasn't been easy for you either.” Joe explained to him and Julian quickly nodded letting him know that he agreed.

“She has done an amazing job taking care of you and I'm very thankful to her for it. But now you also have me. If I would have known from the beginning, things would have been a lot different. But we can't do anything about the past. We just have to focus on the future and move forward. Do you agree?”

“Yes.”

“Good now can I get a hug and you go back downstairs and apologize to your mom? I don't think what you said made her feel all that good. And we don't want to hurt her feelings, right? Because you don't like when people hurt your feelings right?”

“No, I don't like it.”

“Now come on so we can get some of the cake your mom made.”

“Okay.” Julian said as he quickly hugged Joe's side and nodded his head.

“I'm glad you're my dad and not Patrick Mahomes. I don't like the Chiefs and I wouldn't be able to fake it either.” Julian added and Joe had to stifle a laugh.

About a month and a half went by and Joe would spend as much time as he could with Julian on his off days seeing as though it was the middle of the season.

It was almost as if no time had passed and Joe quickly fell into the role of being a father. He made sure to call Julian every night before he went to sleep and also used that opportunity to talk to you. Your current thought process was not being sure if rekindling the relationship between the two of you was in the cards. Truth be told, that would definitely be the icing on the cake, but you weren't exactly quite sure what Joe wanted and he didn't mention it to you either. But the most important thing was him having a relationship with Julian.

And for now, you were content with that.

You were currently working from home and it was the early afternoon when your phone started ringing. Glancing down, you saw it was Joe and a wave of butterflies had hit your stomach and quickly answered.

“Yes, Joseph?

“Don't do that. Am I in trouble? You only did that when I was in trouble.” He asked and you laughed as you shook your head.

“Hmm, depends. Have you done something that would warrant you to be in trouble?’

“I don't think so, so let's go with that.”

“Everything okay?” You asked as you plugged in your laptop to prevent it from dying.

“Yeah, it's fine….” Joe started to say and then trailed off and he would always do this if he knew he was about to say or do something that you weren't completely on board with.

“I can still read you like a book. Spit it out.”

“Okay, just…. Keep an open mind with what I'm about to ask.”

“Okay, go ahead. I'm listening.”

“I want Julian to meet my parents.”

It was quiet for a few seconds and even though he couldn't see you, you were shaking your head.

“No.”

“Y/N, just hear me out. Julian has literally only been around you and your grandmother since he was born, right? For the most part?”

“And that wasn't my choice. It was decided for me.”

“He should have the opportunity to know who his grandparents are.”

“The grandparents who wanted NOTHING to do with him? Do I have that right?”

“I know, but they apologized multiple times for what they did. They know how I feel about it. I literally didn't talk to them for almost a month.”

“So, that makes it okay?”

“No, not at all and I told them that. But they are making an effort because they genuinely want to get to know him.”

“They didn't even allow me to give him the Burrow last name and all of a sudden they want to get to know him? Joey, let's be serious for a second. They probably would have NEVER told you that he even existed if it wasn't for me.”

“Y/N, I know this may be difficult for you but we can't change what happened. All we can do is move forward.”

“Your mother fucking HATES me and she always has.”

“No she doesn't! Neither of my parents hate you.”

“He's just getting to know you, give him some time to adjust.”

“Well we wouldn't be going through this if you would have told me.” Joe shot back at you and immediately regretted it once the words left his mouth.

“We wouldn't be going through this if it wasn't for YOUR MOTHER WHO FUCKING HATES ME like I said before!”

“Where did you even get that from?”

“Joseph, don't be dumb. So I'm going to open the door for her also to hate my child that she wanted no connection to from the beginning? No fucking thank you. If I don't talk to my parents what makes you think I want to be around yours when they are just as guilty? And I feel like you're downplaying what they did to me! Did to us! How can you not see that?” You asked as you felt a few tears slip out.

You should have known that it would eventually come down to this. You just didn't think it would be so soon.

As in Joe's parents wanting to be in Julian's life too.

“I'm not trying to make you upset. I just…”

“Too late because you already have. I have work to do, so bye.”

Without another word, you hung up the phone and threw it onto the couch behind you while you were doing your best not to cry even harder.

After you had hung up the phone on him, Joe was at a loss. He frustratedly ran a hand through his hair before sighing and attempting to call you back.

When you didn't answer, he came up with what he thought was the perfect idea to get you to talk to him.

A little over twenty four hours later, your doorbell rang and you checked the camera to see that it was Joe and rolled your eyes.

A little over twenty four hours later, your doorbell rang and you checked the camera to see that it was Joe and rolled your eyes. 

“Go away, Joseph.”

“Y/N, let me in so we can talk.”

“No.”

“We aren't 17 anymore stop giving me the silent treatment. I know how to bribe you.” He told you as he held up the pizza which you assumed was pepperoni in the camera.

"You're right we're not 17. Which means, I don't give in to your bribes anymore. So there's that.”

"Stop acting like you don't want this pizza and open the door. I also threw in a new telescope for good measure.”

“Wait, you got me a telescope?” You asked as you slowly cracked open the door and peeked your head out.

“You aren't getting it unless you let me in.”

“And what kind of pizza is that?” You asked as you were pointing. You already had a feeling that you knew what it was, but you needed confirmation.

“Your favorite.”

“What's my favorite?”

“What is this? 20 questions? Come on Y/N, let me in already.”

“Then tell me what's in the box!”

“Pepperoni and I got extra ranch on the side now open.the.door.”

“Hmph, fine. But hand over the pizza first.”

“No, not a chance. You're going to take it and slam the door shut. I still know you like the back of my hand.”

You sighed and finally rolled your eyes as you fully opened the door so he could step inside.

Once Joe was fully inside the house, he made his way into the kitchen and set the pizza on the table and went on the hunt to look for plates not knowing if he should take out two or three.

“Where’s Julian?”

“With my sister, so l'm by myself.” You answered as he then took down two plates and brought them over to the table. Opening the box, he slid two pieces on one of them and slid it over to you while also setting the ranch down in front of you.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.”

The two of you were eating in silence when Joe finally broke it.

“You know that I never liked fighting with you.”

“I know.” You quietly answered as you picked a piece of pepperoni off your second slice of pizza and popped it in your mouth.

“So can we come up with some type of compromise?”

Taking a deep breath, you nodded your head before pushing your plate into the center of the table and giving him your undivided attention.

“I know what they did to us and Julian wasn't fair and I'm not trying to downplay it at all. When I finally did answer the phone and talk to them, I explained how I felt and said that they betrayed my trust which I never thought was going to happen since they're my parents. Your hesitation is valid because mine was too when they had first asked. But the more I think about it, he does need to know who his family is.”

“I get that. It's just…. The main thing in the back of my mind is him getting hurt on the same level that we did.”

“They know that if they did that, that they would never see him again and I made that very clear. Because at first when they asked, I had the same reaction as you did and I said no.”

“Okay, I will do it for Julian and I promise to play nice. When did you want him to meet them?”

“You busy Sunday? All of you can be in my suite at the stadium for the game.”

“I’m not and that sounds like a plan. The last thing I said to your mom when I saw her in Athens was ‘good luck begging your son for forgiveness’ and I also told her something along the lines of her not liking me so this should be interesting.”

“You want me to have security at the stadium on standby?” Joe jokingly asked and you smiled at him while shaking your head.

“No need. Julian is my main priority and that will always be the case. As long as he’s happy and taken care of, I’m more than content with that.”

“That reminds me. It’s going to get cold soon so I wanted to take him shopping for some winter clothes. Has he ever even seen snow before?”

“He’d like that and no he actually hasn’t and I have a feeling that he is not going to like it, but he may surprise me so let’s see.”

“I can do it on my next off day. I’ll pick him up from school so you don’t have to worry about doing it.”

You nodded your head as you were deep in thought and Joe grabbed your hand breaking you out of your trance.

“What’s wrong?”

“I just stop to think sometimes on how our lives might have been different if you had known from the beginning.” You quietly answered as Joe nodded his head.

“I do the same thing. I’m just happy that you finally decided that enough was enough and told me.”

“Honestly, I didn’t know how you were going to take it and I was scared out of my mind. I also thought you still hated me after I broke up with you out of nowhere.”

“I could never hate you, no matter what the circumstances had been. And you didn’t know how I was going to take it? He literally looks like the perfect mix of both of us. I couldn’t deny him even if I wanted to. It’s funny that Ja’Marr and Tee actually noticed first. When they told me his name and I saw you, I started connecting the dots.”

“He’s starting to look like you more and more everyday.”

“I have another question for you and it’s okay if you don’t want to answer it.”

“Go ahead.”

“Would you ever talk to your parents again? Or at least try to find out who your actual dad is?”

“It’s not on the top of my priority list and they knew where I was the entire time. If they really honestly did care about me, none of this would have even happened. Sabrina doesn’t even really talk to them and as for my other siblings, I have no idea. Who knows what lies they told them about me. I honestly think that the only people who care about me are you, Julian, and Sabrina. And I’ve always felt like that.”

“And you know I’ll never stop caring about you.” Joe told you as he kissed the back of your hand before massaging it in small circles.

“I know.” You said with a shy smile.

“But enough about that, it’s finally dark outside and I’ll get the telescope out of my car since you did hold up your end of the deal with letting me in the house and it’s evident that my bribes do still work.”

“Burrow, don’t start.” You said as you pointed to him as he stood up from the kitchen table. He held his hands up in defense before smiling at you.

“Just calling it like I see it.”

–

“Joey! That piece doesn’t go there, it goes over here!”

“That’s not what the picture says!”

“Are you looking at the picture or reading the actual directions?”

“Umm, kinda both.”

“Hand it over to the actual aerospace engineer please.” Joe did as he was told but not before he rolled his eyes and pinched your cheek making you laugh.

“I am so fucking proud of you for making it happen. I always knew that you were going to do it.”

“Thank you, Joey. I can give you credit for telling me to go for it and not sell myself short. Julian was also my motivation. I had to be able to make enough money to take care of both of us.” You told him.

“And now you don't have to worry about doing it all by yourself anymore.”

Once you finished putting the telescope together, the two of you spent some time looking through it until you grabbed one of your fluffy blankets to lay on the deck in your backyard allowing the two of you to lay on it.

It was an usually warm night in October and you figured that you better enjoy it before the winter air kicked in. The two of you were simply gazing up at the night sky which you both did often when you were younger when Joe wrapped his arms around you and you moved to lay your head on his chest.

“I can’t even tell you how much I’ve missed this.” He whispered in your ear as you nodded in agreement.

“Me too.”

“I figured that you would have been married by now and forgot all about me.”

“How could I forget about you when people were saying your name everywhere I turned? And besides, I kept up with what you were doing. I was very excited when you entered the transfer portal and went to LSU. Being a backup quarterback didn’t fit you very well since I knew how amazing you were. And I honestly thought you would have been married by now.”

“You never let me forget it either. And I wasn’t marrying anyone who would be in your rightful place. Only person that I was ever going to make my wife was you. What I told you when we were seventeen hasn’t changed.”

“Just patiently waiting for you to win MVP and I know that it’s coming. And I know Julian would want nothing more than for all of us to be under one roof.”

“I want this with you. We get to do it right this time and no one can tell us no.”

Nodding your head in agreement, Joe turned your head to face him as he leaned over to kiss you. You eagerly kissed him back as both of your hands were exploring each other’s bodies. As Joe took the bottom of your shirt in his hands, he broke the kiss and searched your eyes for permission before he proceeded. When you nodded your head, your shirt was then peeled off of your body and thrown to the side as he comfortably moved you to the side so that he could hover above you.

At this moment, you were thankful for your fenced in backyard and the fact that your house wasn’t very close to anyone else’s. So the likelihood of the two of you getting caught was slim to none.

The next piece of clothing to come off of your body was your bra as Joe started to place several feather-like kisses all over starting from your neck as he worked his way down. His tongue lightly grazed one of your nipples before taking it fully in his mouth and slowly beginning to suck on it making a quiet moan slip from your mouth. He soon switched sides before you tugged on his shirt telling him to take it off. Once he did, he added it to your pile of clothes to the left of you before moving downward and slipping off your leggings that you were currently wearing with nothing underneath. 

He quickly spread your legs and settled himself in between them as his mouth finally made contact with your core.

Joe continued to pleasure you as he heard your soft whimpers and inserted one of his fingers as he started pumping it in and out of you. Your hands quickly made a way into his hair as you tried to pull him as close as possible to you.

“Shiiit.” You quietly said as Joe wasted no time adding another finger while his focus was now solely on your clit.

“Mm, Joey.”

“You gonna cum for me, baby?” Joe asked as his mouth left your clit for a quick second before going right back to it.

Not being able to utter another word because of how much pleasure you were in, you simply nodded your head. 

You didn’t know how much time had passed, but before you could tell Joe that you were close, You quickly squirted all over his face, However, he didn’t move a muscle as he tightly held onto your legs and still gave you as much pleasure as possible.

“Baby… mmm… Joey, I can’t….” You told him as you were doing your best to attempt to move away from him so you could somewhat recover from the constant feeling of you hitting your peak over and over again, but he obviously wasn’t letting that happen.

Being as bold as he was, he held eye contact with you the entire time, making you shake your head at him. When he finally came up for air, he placed several kisses all along your thighs before moving back up your body to place a kiss on your lips, which you gladly accepted and gave him several more.

“You are such an ass.” You whispered against his lips and all he did was laugh at you. 

“Now, is that how we treat someone who just made you cum not once, but multiple times?”

“Hmm, yes because I know that you aren’t going to do anything else about it, but make me cum more and make me beg for mercy like you just did.”

“Good girl.”

“I see not much has changed.”

“But I see something on you has.” He replied as he began to play with your nipple piercings before leaning down and sucking on them.

“I figured that you would like that.”

“But I know that I’m going to love being inside you more. You ready for me?” He asked as he slipped another finger back into you. He took it back out and eagerly began sucking on it as he peered down at you.

Nodding your head, Joe slipped off his sweatpants along with his boxers and lined himself with your entrance.

“I know that you don’t have a lot of neighbors, but we still need to be quiet. Think you can do that for me, baby girl?”

“Yes.”

“You promise not to make a sound?” Joe asked you as he inserted himself in you at the same time making you gasp.

“Hmm, that wasn’t quiet. Don’t let it happen again.” He whispered in your ear as he began pounding into you.

Your arms had now wrapped around his neck as his head was resting on your shoulder. It was taking everything in you not to make a sound and you knew that as hard as you were biting down on your lip that blood had probably trickled out of it. 

A small moan slipped out and Joe immediately stopped his movements and picked his head up to look at you.

“I thought I said not a sound, baby girl? And you were doing so well.” He told you as he pulled all the way out before slamming his hips all the way back in making you gasp.

Joe reached down to sloppily kiss you as he continued to move in and out of you with you trying not to make a sound. Your hands went back around his neck as he movements became sloppier indicating that he was close.

“Joey…. I’m close.”

“Hold it until I tell you to.”

“But…” You quickly protested, but all Joe did was shake his head, indicating that he didn’t want to hear it and that you had better listen to him.

It was taking everything in you to not let go right then and there as he was still going, but when you finally heard his voice, you wasted no time.

“Now you can.” He whispered against your lips as both of you came at the same time. Joe made sure not to finish inside you and his cum was covering the lower half of your stomach before you sat up and caught him off guard with you taking him in your mouth.

“Oh shit, babe.”

He made sure to move your hair out of the way as you continued to pleasure him as you also kept eye contact with him the entire time. The use of your hands also helped when your jaw was quickly becoming tired.

It didn’t take long for you to taste his cum at the back of your throat once he released in your mouth and milked him until the very last drop. Once you were finished, you laid back down on the blanket as Joe laid down next to you before pulling you on top of him and kissing your forehead. 

“I’ll give you ten minutes and I think we need to go inside for the second round because I know for a fact that I’m going to have you screaming.” Joe told you as he smirked and leaned over to kiss you.

It was now Sunday and as promised, it was the day that Julian was going to meet his grandparents. You were nervous to say the least, but at this point in time, it is what it is. You and Joe both compromised and you were going to uphold your end of the deal.

Julian actually didn't know that he would be meeting them. All he knew was that he was going to get a chance to sit up in his dad's suite and watch the game.

You and Julian would be wearing matching jerseys, along with jeans and your pandas to top it off.

As you were laying out your clothes to wear later, you got a facetime call from Joe and quickly answered.

“Good morning, Joey.”

“Good morning, my love. You ready for later?” Joe asked as you could see him moving around in his bedroom.

“I should be the one asking you that.” You replied as you sat down on your bed next to your outfit.

“I'm good. About to leave the house in a few. Excited to see you as always. And my baby boy of course.”

“And your baby boy is excited to see you play as always. Wouldn’t stop talking about it from the time that I told him.” 

“Where is he? I want to talk to him before I leave.”

“Hold on. Julian! Come here for a second.”

“Coming mom!”

Once he came into your room, he was all smiles as he hugged you before sitting next to you on your bed.

“Someone wants to talk to you.”

“Is it dad!?” He excitedly asked as you handed him your phone.

“See for yourself.”

Once Julian saw his father on the screen staring back at him, his smile got even wider if that was possible.

“Dad!”

“Hey King Julian, I'm excited to see you later.”

“Me too! Me and mom are wearing the white jerseys with our pandas so we can match you!”

“Definitely take a picture once you two get dressed and send it to me. And Julian?”

“Yes?”

“You have to promise me to be on your best behavior today. I know you usually are, but I just needed to remind you. I have some special people coming to the game to meet you.” Joe told him and Julian nodded in agreement.

“I will, I promise.”

“And what's my one other rule?”

“Besides being on my best behavior? Listening and protecting mom.”

“Perfect. I'll see you later, little man.”

“Oh! Can we get ice cream after the game?”

“Yes, as long as mom approves.” Joe answered and Julian immediately turned to you and gave you puppy dog eyes.

“I… how can I say no to a face like that? Of course we can.”

“I want rocky road or no…. Maybe bubble gum…”

“Well there's no rush, you have a few more hours to decide.” Joe replied as you noticed that he was now outside walking to his car.

“Okay Julian, let dad go to work and you need to go downstairs and finish your breakfast.”

“But mom, I want a chili cheese dog.”

“I… Not for breakfast you aren't! I will get you one later, promise.”

“But…”

“Julian, what did your mother say?” Joe asked him as he was now driving.

“To wait until later.”

“So we need to be patient, right?”

“Yes. I'll go finish my food.” Julian said with a slight attitude which Joe quickly caught onto and shut down.

“Lose the attitude this instant or we aren't getting ice cream. Didn't we just have an entire discussion about you listening to your mom?”

He let out a deep sigh before nodding his head in agreement.

“Go ahead and do what she told you to do.”

“Okay.”

Julian handed you back your phone before heading back downstairs and you were once again left with Joe.

“He gets his attitude from you.” You said without hesitation and Joe immediately snorted.

“That is one thing that I can actually agree with. Even though your attitude is just as bad.”

“I… it is not!”

“I will never tell you a lie, babe.”

“I'm ignoring you. But good luck today and as always either way it goes, I'm still proud of you.” You told him and he gave you a small smile in return.

“So if I win, victory kisses and if we lose sympathy kisses?”

Once you had arrived at the stadium with Julian and had gotten settled in Joe's suite, the two of you were there by yourselves for about twenty minutes before his parents made their presence known.

“Hi, Y/N.” Joe's dad was the first to speak and you gave him a small smile. Robin was next to him, but you couldn’t quite read her facial expression.

“Hi, Julian, these are the special and important people that your dad wanted you to meet.” You told him and he turned around in his seat to smile at the both of them.

“This is your grandma and grandpa. Your dad's parents.”

“Wait, dad has parents?”

“Everyone has parents, silly!” You explained to him as both Jim and Robin made themselves comfortable.

Robin finally spoke and pulled you to the side to be able to talk to you.

“Y/N, can we talk?” She asked and you looked to see that Jim was explaining something that was happening in the game to Julian and nodded your head.

“Sure.”

Once the two of you were outside the suite in the hallway, she took a deep breath before saying anything.

“I… first off thank you for agreeing for us to meet and get to know Julian. Because Joe’s original answer was no and I can imagine that yours was the same thing.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I want us to be able to put all of this behind us and move forward. Looking back on what I did, it wasn’t right in the slightest despite me wanting to protect my son. You have always been there for him and I knew that you cared about him. I knew once he knew that you were back in Ohio that it would be the same thing. I don’t think telling you sorry is enough and it will probably never be enough. Joe didn’t even talk to us for like a month and a half when he confronted us about it. Even after all this time, when Joe talks about you he lights up. And he does it even more now that he knows about Julian. I hope that you can forgive us for what we did. I know that it won’t happen overnight and that it will take time, but there is no rush. We want to be a part of Julian’s life and a part of yours.”

Clearly taken aback from what Robin had just confessed to you, all you could do at the moment was nod your head.

“Thank you for telling me that. I always thought you hated me when we were in high school so that was your entire reasoning behind doing what you did. But Joe swears up and down that you don’t.”

“No, I didn’t hate you and I still don’t. All I wanted to do was protect his future and was willing to go to extreme measures to do so. I know we hurt the both of you tremendously. I still think about the night Joe came to me in tears because you had broken up with him because we had told you to.”

“I still remember the look on his face, but he told me that he doesn’t hold it against me and knew for a fact that something wasn’t right about the whole thing. One day we were planning our future with each other and the next, I was breaking up with him.”

“That was definitely a dark time for him and that didn’t help when it spilled over to him going to Ohio State as a backup quarterback.”

“I can imagine.”

“But I just wanted to pull you to the side to talk to you. Now let’s go back in and enjoy the game.” She told you as she leaned in to hug you which you quickly returned.

Once you took your rightful spot next to Julian, he turned to you and asked a question.

“Where are your parents, mom?”

“Not really all that important right now, babe.” You replied and you were actually dreading the day that he found out the entire truth as to why he only had you in his life for so long and no one else.

As the game was quickly underway, the Bengals won the toss, but deferred it to get the ball at the start of the second half. Jim and Robin were both making conversation with Julian and you had to smile at how excited he was to meet them despite your protests. But what you weren't expecting was your actual parents to walk through the door.

“Hi everyone!” 

Hearing her voice was like nails on a chalkboard and your flight or fight instincts immediately kicked in. You turned around to see both of your parents staring back at you and wasted no time questioning them.

“Why the hell are either of you here?”

“Now, Y/N is that any way to talk to your parents?” The person who calls himself your father asked.

“You aren’t even my real father, so you can pipe the fuck down.”

“OKAY! WHOA! Y/N, we just reached out to them to see if they wanted to come and watch the game with us since we knew that you were bringing Julian with you.” Jim stepped in to say as he put a hand on your shoulder. Meanwhile, Julian was looking at you confused.

“No. They need to leave immediately.”

“Y/N, why are you so upset? We just wanted to meet our grandson too.” Your mother softly said, making you instantly roll your eyes.

“Neither of you have talked to me since I was seventeen when I first got pregnant with him so what in the world makes you think that you have a right to just show up out of nowhere and talk to him? I don’t even want to have anything to do with either of you and I know for a FACT, my son is not going to be around you either.”

“That was a difficult time for all of us.”

“Difficult for who? You made me break up with my boyfriend at the damn near end of my senior year when I had a MONTH LEFT and move all the way across the country to live with my grandmother. Neither of you came to my graduation or checked up on me to see how I was doing and every time you called to talk to her, she would ask if you wanted to talk to me and the answer was always no. I was literally in the hospital in labor BY MYSELF because grandma was out of town on a business trip. A FUCKING NURSE HELD MY HAND INSTEAD OF IT BEING MY BOYFRIEND OR MY MOTHER. DON’T YOU DARE TALK TO ME ABOUT IT BEING A DIFFICULT TIME FOR YOU.”

“Okay, Y/N, baby girl I get that you’re upset…”

“No, you don’t know ANYTHING and you need to….. Where’s Julian?” You asked no one in particular and everyone looked around the room dumbfounded and confused just as you were.

“He was just sitting right there. I… maybe the bathroom?”

“He never leaves without telling me because he knows better. SHIT.”

Meanwhile, Julian was wandering the hallways of the stadium by himself when all of a sudden he was spotted by Mama Tee who he met when he also met Ja’Marr and Tee after one of the Bengals home games. She spotted him too and immediately went up to him and was looking around for you.

“Julian? What are you doing out here by yourself? Where’s your mom? You look upset?”

“We were in the suite and I met my dad’s parents, but my mom’s parents also came and she got really upset. They started arguing and I wanted to leave. I really want my dad right now.” He told her as tears threatened to fall from his eyes. 

“I… okay. Well you can’t go to him right this second since he’s playing in the game, but I need to get you back to your mom because she is probably losing her mind. Julian, baby, you can’t walk away and not tell anyone.” She told him as she grabbed his hand and was leading him back towards the suite. 

“Dad told me to always protect my mom, but I also know not to interrupt adults when they’re talking so I just left. I don’t want them here and I’ve never seen her like that. I don’t want to be around anyone who has hurt my mom.”

“Okay, how about this? Let’s dial her number so I can tell her that you’re okay and we can go from there.”

Julian nodded his head as she handed him her phone and quickly dialed your number. You answered on the first ring and he could tell that you were upset, not only about your parents, but about him also walking away from you.

“Hello?!”

“Mom!”

“JULIAN OLIVER! Where are you?! You need to get back here NOW.”

“I’m with Mama Tee. She’s walking me back right now.”

“Once you get back here, you are not leaving my sight until you turn eighteen, you understand?” You told him and he nodded although you couldn’t see him.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Julian quickly handed Mama Tee her phone back and she could hear your quiet sobs.

“It’s okay, Y/N, he’s fine. Not a scratch on him. He just got upset because you were upset and he wanted to leave. Of course he told me that he wanted his dad, but I told him that he has to be patient and wait until after the game.”

“I never want to argue or deal with confrontation in front of him but all I saw was red when my parents showed up.”

“He also told me that because they made you upset that he doesn’t want to be around them and that they need to leave.”

“Well lucky for him, his wish has been granted because they literally just left. They offered to help look for him, but I said absolutely not.”

“Well, we’re outside the suite now, you can come and get him.” She told you as you quickly hung up the phone before practically running towards the door and opening it to see Julian looking at you with Mama Tee standing behind him.

Julian quickly hugged you and you were squeezing him for dear life.

“Listen to me, do not EVER do that again.” You told him as you grabbed his face for him to look up at you and he nodded.

“I don’t like seeing you upset or seeing you cry. They made you cry.”

“I… well they won’t be a problem anymore, okay? Promise.” You explained as you wiped a few tears that had fallen on Julian’s cheeks and kissed his forehead. 

“Okay.”

“Now, get back in there and watch the game with your grandparents. They were worried about you too.”

As Julian went inside the suite to sit back down, you turned back to Mama Tee and smiled. 

“I can’t thank you enough for spotting him and bringing him back.”

“Of course, I know he’s a good kid, and his main concern was protecting you but he also told me he knows not to interrupt when adults are talking. He got upset, so he left.”

“Yeah, that sounds like my baby. I swear that I couldn’t have asked for a better first born.”

“You and Joe definitely have one amazing kid.”

It was now close to eleven at night and Joe had tucked Julian in before coming into your bedroom and falling face first onto your bed with you laughing at him.

“Is someone tired?”

“Definitely, but not tired enough not to spend any time with you.” He replied as he moved to lay his head on your chest as you wrapped your arms around him. 

“How did your talk with your baby boy go?” You asked because you immediately wasted no time in telling what had happened during the game when you saw him in the tunnel before his presser.

“He knows now that if he becomes upset, he has to tell one of us before simply walking away. He was upset and I get it, because I definitely told him to look out for you which he was doing. It shouldn’t be a problem again. But, my parents were okay?”

“Yes and they apologized about everything and also apologized about my parents because they didn’t even know the full story. They actually gave me hugs and your theory was confirmed.”

“What theory? And I’m sorry that they basically ambushed you. But you know that you have me and Julian to protect you.”

“Your mom told me straight up that she never hated me and yes my two favorite boys.”

“I told you and you didn’t want to believe me.”

“And she wants to not only be a part of Julian’s life but mine too but she knows that this all isn’t going to happen overnight.” You explained to Joe as he began to play with your necklace.

“I’m going to get you a new one.”

“What’s wrong with this one?!”

“Nothing’s wrong with it, I just figured I could add a few diamonds to it to give it a little upgrade.”

“Fine, not going to argue about that, but I want it in rose gold.”

“Anything you ask for, if I have the ability to get, consider it yours.”

-

One year later

“Julian, you want to hold her?” Joe asked as he was cuddling your newborn baby girl, Juliet against his chest and he eagerly nodded.

“Go sit down over there and I’ll hand her to you.”

As he sat down in the corner of your hospital room, he was all smiles as he looked at his dad in front of him as he anticipated holding his baby sister for the first time. From the moment you told Julian that he was going to be a big brother, he stepped into his role and took it very seriously.

“You ready? You have to make sure you support her head.”

“Okay, I’m ready.”

Joe gently placed her in Julian’s arms and he was in absolute awe.

“She’s so little. Hi Juliet, I’m your big brother, Julian and I love you so much already.” He told her as she cooed and looked up at him with her brown eyes.

Joe recorded the entire interaction on his phone and when he was finished, placed a kiss on top of your head.

“We really did it.” He whispered in your ear as you looked at him confused.

“Did what, babe?”

“We finally got our happy ending. We’re together, married, and have our Julian and Juliet.”

“And it only took maybe ten years.”

“Doesn’t even matter how long it took, we made it happen. Still can’t believe that everyone in the house has the exact same birthday. Now what are the odds?”

“I know like that is literally insane. Now we have four birthdays to celebrate on December 10th.”

“Now, does my wife want sushi since I know these nine months have driven you up the wall with not being able to have any.:

“Yes, please, oh my gosh. I couldn’t get her out of me fast enough. I forgot how much I actually loved it until I couldn’t have any.” You told him and he laughed as he shook his head at you.

“Mom!”

“Yes, Julian?”

“Can I request a little brother, next?” He asked and your eyes went wide as you looked at Joe.

“Um, let’s just try to focus on being a good big brother to Juliet first and then we can see.” He told him as he adjusted the flower headband that was on Juliet, a gift from her grandparents.

“JOSEPH!”

“I… what?! You know it’s hard for me to tell him no!”

“If that’s the case, I’m going to need a lot more than sushi.”

“That’s fine, how about a Birkin?”

Liked by lahjay_10, cincinattibengals, sabrinaaa, teehiggins and 2,472,097 others

joeyb_9: Finally got our happy ending. Welcome to the world, Juliet Maeve Burrow. Julian is so excited to be your big brother ❤️

Comments have been turned off for this post

[joeyfranchise]

cuz you know that it’s delicate

joe burrow x fem!reader

summary: what happens when joe’s teammate slips a joke about your size difference and it sends you spiraling? being in love with joe since college has been tough but what happens when he starts figuring it out and trying to unravel you more?

warnings: SMUT, 18+ ONLY, MDNI. heaaaavy size kink, joe being a smartass should be it’s own warning, language, p in v, fingering, oral (f. receiving), roughness. probably more? this one was so much fun, plzzz stick around til the end. 🤭

word count: 3.1k!

note: heyyy everyone! my first joey smut 🤭 i hope y’all love it and again MDNI!! (shoutout to my boo @slimshiesty, hate me later and that stray ball part is rotting in my brain, so i snuck a lil of it in here as an ode to you. ily bbg. 💗) (also another taylor swift title bc i fr couldn’t think of anything else plus i used it a bit.. i swear i’m not trying to steal anyones thing i love all the joey swifties)

tags: @slimshiesty @starsinthesky5 (plz message me or send an ask to be added!) part 2

sexual frustration has to be one of the worst things in the world. sexual frustration at the hands of your best friend, however, takes the cake.

it started at a party two weeks ago when you were invited out by joe, the star nfl quarterback, certified dweeb, and your very best friend all wrapped into one.

flashback

you were sitting around with joe and some of his teammates, listening in on their conversations and people watching the rest of the time. it was easiest for you to hang out with joe and ja’marr since you knew them from college, but the rest of their teammates and their teammates partners were really cool too, and all so welcoming to you.

everyone was laughing and joking, having a laid back time, picking on each other for random things. that was, until, someone mentioned how funny it was to see you standing next to joe, being that he was well over a foot taller than you.

“what? how’s it funny?” joe asked, glancing between you and his teammate. “because you make her look so tiny! like a little doll. get up and stand next to each other.”

you were reluctant to move from your seat, hating where this was leading. it was already hard enough having feelings for your best friend over the span of a few years, but this was crossing dangerous territory. kink territory.

for you, there was something about how much bigger than you joe was. he towered over you. his body was lean but built with thick muscles. he could quite literally pick you up and sling you around like a rag-doll. (and honestly if he did, you’d thank him.)

you hoped his teammate pointing out your size difference wouldn’t be turned into a big deal, but once joe pulled you out of your chair to stand next to him, it was like the gates of hell opened.

you stood side by side, your head barely even reaching his armpit. everyone around the table laughed, including joe. “damn, i guess i never really focused on how little you are, y/n.” joe laughed, and placed his forearm on top of your head like an armrest.

alarms went off in your head. ABORT MISSION. ABORT MISSION.

you cleared your throat quickly, and came to your senses, shoving joe off before getting back into your seat. “maybe i’m not small, maybe you’re just a freakishly large man.” you remark, trying to keep your voice even.

“nah,” he replied, sitting down next to you again, “you’re sooooo tiny.” he laughed, wiggling his eyebrows at you. you flipped him the finger. “fuck you big bird.” you snarked before downing the rest of your drink. god knows you need it. you hoped that your pink cheeks would be chalked up to the alcohol and that nobody else had caught on.

the next instance came a few days later, on a sunday, and it was much worse than the first. so, so much worse.

flashback to sunday

you came to the bengals’ home stadium to watch their game, and since it was early you figured you’d go down to the field to say hi to joe and some of your other friends on the team.

you made it down and waved hi to ja’marr, tee and sam before making your way to joe. he spotted you and smiled, walking in your direction to meet you halfway.

you decided on wearing one of his jerseys and a pair of jeans, something simple and comfortable. as soon as he made it to you, the first thing he did was look you up and down and then pick up the sleeve of the jersey before chuckling.

“damn, this thing is swallowing you!” he comments. you playfully smack at his arm. “shut up, joey.”

“it’s cute, though. you look nice. are you excited for the game?”

you don’t give yourself much time to process that “cute” comment. wtf does that even mean? who cares. ABORT MISSION.

“of course i’m excited! i can’t wait to watch you guys kick some ass today—“

your sentence is cut off abruptly as joe grabs you and lifts you, turning your bodies so his back is now facing the opposite direction on the field. his grip on you is so tight that your chest is pressed into his stomach. you look up at his face, his expression a mix between anger and concern. you can feel your cheeks heat up and your eyes widen in disbelief.

“um, joe, you’re bear hugging the hell out of me right now. wanna put me down and explain what happened?”

he lets you down gently, reaching up to run a hand through his hair. “stray ball was coming right at you. i didn’t want it to hit you, it would’ve hurt you pretty bad.”

you reach a hand up and pat his chest, feeling the thick muscles. “thank you!” you respond, once again monitoring your tone. “i’m gonna head up and talk to everyone, ok?” you ask, already moving to leave. “yeah, ok.” joe says, focusing his attention on the ground. you can tell he’s contemplating something, but you don’t want to ask. you want to get out of there as quickly as possible.

the final instance came a few days later when you went to joe’s house just to hang out and have dinner.

flashback to wednesday night

you park your car in joe’s garage and step out, tucking your phone and keys in your pocket before heading up the stairs. before you make it to the door, joe’s already opening it and waiting in the doorway.

“hi bub!” you call, pushing past him and stepping inside, kicking off your shoes by the door. he greets you back sweetly and the two of you go sit on barstools in the kitchen, just catching up on things that have gone on this week. you rant to joe about your job and he listens intently, offering what advice he can.

he rants back to you about things going on with the team, and frustrations he’s having on the field. you try to return the favor and offer him some advice, but you know you aren’t of too much help. joe appreciates it regardless.

soon after your food arrives, you find yourselves in the living room, sitting on the couch side by side as a movie plays. you and joe always loved just being around each other, you had so deep of a connection that oftentimes words didn’t need to be shared at all.

you both enjoyed those moments.

you felt yourself starting to doze off until joe laughed at something in the movie, the sound waking you a bit.

“oh, sorry. you can go to sleep.” he whispers, pulling you into his side and wrapping his arm around your shoulder. you appreciate his warmth and you rub your head on his shoulder as you get comfy. you hear joe chuckle.

“what’s funny?” you mumble, your eyes still closed. “it’s like i’m hyper-aware now of how small you are next to me. it’s so cute.”

you make no outward moves or sounds, but inside you are screaming. yelling. this is the worst one yet.

you don’t know it yet, but joe’s figured it out. he’s seen you get flustered three times now over these comments, and he knows something is going on in your brain when they’re said. he isn’t aware if you have feelings for him like he does for you, but he knows you liked when he picked you up so easily on the field the other day.

it was effortless to him, despite what you might think of yourself.

you sit next to him in silence, eyes still closed, trying to control your breathing. just try to fall asleep again you tell yourself, hoping that joe has no idea. if you only knew.

when you wake in the morning, you’re still snuggled on the couch with him as the soft morning light shines gold around the living room. you shake him awake.

“joey, i gotta get going. i need to go home and get ready for work and you have thursday practice.”

he pulls you in closer for a moment, hugging you bye, and then wishes you a good day at work. you bolt out the door and to your car as fast as you can, heading home to wash the previous day away in the shower.

end of flashbacks

so, this is where you are now.

it’s been almost a week since you’ve talked to joe, avoiding him because you aren’t sure what to say or do. part of you knows he has something figured out, but you don’t know what or how much.

you’re terrified to let him in on your feelings, what’s going on in your head, because you’re delicate and you don’t want to ruin something that has always been there for you.

the other part of you knows you have to tell him, you need to tell him. you love him, you lust after him. the comments that keep being made about your sizes are driving you to the point of insanity that nothing will fix it unless joe manhandles you as rough as you can take it and he fucks it out of you.

you’re pretty sure your vibrator is gonna be on its last leg soon.

alright, i gotta call him. i gotta get this over with.

you grab your phone off the kitchen counter and dial his number, listening to it ring for a few moments.

“hello?” he finally answers, sounding a bit upset.

“hey joey. sorry i haven’t been talking to you this week. i just— i think i need to talk to you about some stuff and.. would you mind coming over later?”

he says nothing for a moment, but you hear him blow out a long breath. “yeah, of course, y/n.” he finally says. “i can be over around 7?”

you check the clock on the stove, it reads 4:34pm.

“7 sounds great! see you then!” you say, hanging up quickly. now you play the waiting game.

all your chores are done, and you take a lovely everything shower to help calm your nerves, and you make sure to drink plenty of water and have a snack as you tell yourself affirmations.

it’s going to be okay, he’s my best friend. he will understand. he will still be my friend regardless, he’s always been there for me. if he rejects me, nothing will change that.

you sit on the couch and scroll your phone as you wait. there’s still just a bit over an hour before joey will arrive, so you waste time scrolling tiktok, cozy on the couch.

soon enough you hear the doorbell, and you jump off the couch to answer it, stepping aside to let joe in.

he sits on your couch, waiting for you to join him and start speaking. “joe, i, um.. i hav-“

he cuts you off. “you have feelings for me? you like it when people compare our sizes because it turns you on?” he smirks, leaning back on the couch, crossing his arms behind his head. he’s manspreading now, his thick thighs on full display. your mouth falls open for a moment.

“yeah. essentially exactly that.” you finally reply.

“so what are we gonna do about that?” he questions, pulling you into his lap. you place your hands on his chest instinctively, and before you know what’s happening he‘s pulling you in for a heated kiss.

his lips are soft against yours and he gently prods at your bottom lip, sliding his tongue past as you open it. he tastes like mint, it’s intoxicating you. one minute his large hands are splayed over your back holding you to him, the next he’s lifting you off the couch by grabbing underneath your armpits and carrying you down the hall, roughly body-slamming you on the bed.

“dude, save the UFC moves for ja’marr!” you groan, sucking in a large breath. joe jumps on the bed, caging you in by placing his knees on either side of your hips and his hands next to your head.

“no, i don’t think so.” he smirks, leaning in closer until your noses are nearly touching. you felt your cheeks heating up at his close proximity, and his eye-contact with you was starting to feel intimidating, even though you had just been sharing such a passionate kiss. you hated that you could feel your wetness soaking through your panties just from him trying to wrestle you.

he blows gently on your face and you shove at him. he laughs you off and leans even closer, pressing the tip of his nose to yours before moving away and leaning down to whisper in your ear.

“this would be a lot easier if you’d just admit that you want me to manhandle you. you want me to go rough, right?” he teases. you’ve had enough of his smugness. you grab the back of his neck and pull him in for another kiss, tugging at his hair and nipping his bottom lip. he groans into you. he stands from the bed, picking you up again, carrying you across the room before roughly slamming your body against the wall.

you let out a strangled moan, loving the feeling of him using all his strength on you.

“can i take your shorts off?” he asks, looking into your eyes.

“fuck yes, please.” you breathe out, exhilarated.

joe yanks your shorts and panties down your legs in one swift motion, kneeling down in front of you. he’s able to keep your body held up and pressed against the wall. he looks up at you with questioning eyes, making sure this is okay. you give him a soft nod in response.

he leans in and throws one of your legs over his shoulder. he starts by pressing the smallest kiss to your clit, and then licks a slow, languid stripe up your core. you hiss, your body arching off the wall at the new sensation. when you look down, you find him looking up at you, his beautiful blue eyes trained on your face.

your eyes roll back in your head as he continues his ministrations. you feel the hand that isn’t holding you against the wall rubbing circles on your inner thigh before joe slowly slips a finger into you.

you quickly approach your orgasm, your stomach tight with anticipation. joe doesn’t let up, working you there until your body feels like it’s being dunked into warm bath water, the feeling covering you from head to toe. it takes you a minute to regain your sense of self. joe pulls his fingers from your core and removes your leg from his shoulder, standing back up before lifting you so your legs are around his waist.

you waste no time pulling him in for a kiss. “holy shit, joey!” you moan, baffled at what just happened. he smirks into your kiss.

for the second time, you’re thrown onto the bed. you sit up, propped on your elbows as you watch joe stalk closer, his erection very obvious in his shorts. he pulls his shirt over his head and you do the same, unclasping your bra just after so that you’re completely bare for him.

you chalk your forwardness up to being comfortable with him, normally you wouldn’t have the confidence to act this way. neither would joe, actually, but you shrug it off.

you don’t remember seeing him strip his shorts off or climb on top of you, but you know you’re kissing him again. you can’t get over how good his lips feel. one of his hands traces your curves, he runs his fingers along your body until his large hand is cupping your breast.

he moves his kisses to your neck and you gasp, reveling in the feeling of him kissing and touching you softly and sweetly.

you look down at his throbbing cock and suddenly you feel intimidated. joe hears you gasp. he lets out a soft laugh.

“don’t talk a big game and then act scared of it, baby.” he teases, pressing light kisses to your cheeks. you swallow thickly.

joe reaches down and strokes himself, spitting on his hand to slick himself up. he looks at you once again for confirmation, and you nod to him. he helps you get comfortable beneath him, positioning your legs around his waist as he pushes his tip in. you suck in a harsh breath.

it stings, but it isn’t the worst thing. he moves against you slowly, sliding in inch by inch until he bottoms out. he looks down and you, your faces inches apart, and you giggle.

“what is it bub?” he asks, smiling softly. “they weren’t kidding calling you big dick joe.” you laugh out. joe laughs too.

after giving you a few minutes to adjust, he starts moving hips, rocking into yours slowly. you think this is what the peak of euphoria feels like.

he leans back down to kiss you, his hand finding your throat and squeezing ever so slightly. your back is arched, your chest pressed to his as your hands tangle through his hair. his hands move down, finding your hips and holding them down to the bed. you moan at the rough grip.

he starts going harder, his hips pistoning into yours as you continue kissing, both of you moaning out your pleasure.

“joey, i-i’m close.” you warn, your body covered in a sheen of sweat. you felt it again, you were so close to that warmth once again pulsing over your body.

until.

knock knock knock.

what was that? you thought. you tried to focus on joe but everything seemed to be slipping away.

then, there it was again. the knocking. and the shrill of your phone ringing.

you startled awake, sweat covering your body. you looked at your phone screen. 7:10pm. one missed call from joe.

you threw your throw blanket off, trying to gather your thoughts. what the fuck? what is happening?

you thought you’d just had the best fuck of your life, that everything would be okay with you and joe but… it was just a dream? you dozed off and you didn’t even know it.

“y/n, let me in!” you hear joe yell from the opposite side of the door. you’re panicking, your body is hot, your clothes are stuck to you. still, you get up and almost sprint to the door. you open it, taking in his appearance. just like your dream.

black shorts, black shirt. backwards cap.

“can i come in? are you okay?” he asks. you watch as he takes in your appearance. sweaty hair stuck to your neck, your eyes glazed over.

“um, yeah joe. i’m okay. come in.” you step aside, inviting him in, just like your dream. he sits down.

“so, what did you wanna talk about?” he asks. you sit down next to him, blowing out a long breath. this was gonna be a longggg conversation.

[paddockletters]

play your cards right | joe burrow

summary: a game of UNO was supposed to be just friendly fun—until you and Joe realize there’s more than just competition between you. request: yessss! thanks for your request, and I hope you like it! is my first fic with joe, so… I hope you all enjoy it!

You’re sitting cross-legged on the floor in Joe’s living room, the glow of his TV illuminating the table between you, where the UNO deck sits. It’s just the two of you tonight—a casual “game night” that he suggested after practice. Joe’s wearing his usual low-key uniform: grey sweats and a plain white t-shirt that somehow looks perfect on him.

“Alright,” you say, stretching your arms out, “prepare to lose, Burrow.”

“You’re awfully confident for someone who still doesn’t know the difference between a reverse and a skip.” He chuckles, his eyes meeting yours for a moment longer than necessary.

“Oh, please,” you scoff.

“I don’t think you’re ready for this,” he said, grabbing the deck.

You rolled your eyes. “Joe, it’s UNO. Not the Super Bowl.”

“Yeah, but I don’t lose,” he said with a smirk, shuffling the cards.

The first round stars with subtle nudges under the table as you both reach for your drinks. His knee brushes yours once, and you feel the warmth linger even after he pulls away.

“You’re taking this way too seriously,” Joe teases as you carefully select a card.

“Says the guy who just spent five minutes strategizing his next play,” you fired back, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s not my fault I’m good at winning.” Joe grinned, leaning forward slightly.

“Winning?” you laugh. “You’ve drawn, like, half the deck!”

As the game heats up, your phone buzzes on the table. You glance at the screen and groan. It’s a message from Ja'Marr.

Ja'Marr: “Y’all playing UNO or undressing each other with your eyes? 👀”

Your cheeks heat up, and you quickly flip your phone face-down.

“What’s that?” Joe asks, noticing your flustered reaction.

“Nothing. Just Ja’Marr being … Ja’Marr.”

Joe smirks, clearly not buying it.

“Let me guess. He’s talking shit?”

You hesitate, then slide the phone across the table. “See for yourself.”

Joe picks it up and laughs under his breath as he reads the text. “Seriously? I can’t even hang out with you without him making it a thing.”

“Maybe he’s onto something,” you tease, watching for his reaction.

Joe doesn’t miss a beat. “What? That you’re bad at UNO?”

You throw a card at him, and he ducks, laughing as it sails past his shoulder.

You win the first round, throwing down your last card with a triumphant yell. Joe leans back on his hands, shaking his head in mock disbelief.

“Beginner’s luck,” he says.

“Oh, come on. Admit it—I’m just better than you.”

Joe narrows his eyes. “One more round. But let’s make it interesting.”

You raise a brow. “Interesting how?”

“If I win,” he says, leaning forward slightly, “you let me take you out on a real date.”

The air shifts, the playful energy suddenly charged with something deeper. You try to keep your voice steady as you ask, “And if I win?”

He grins, his confidence unwavering. “Your call.”

You hesitate, the weight of the moment sinking in. “Deal,” you finally say, your voice quieter now.

The rematch is intense. You’re hyper-aware of how close you’re sitting now, your knees brushing every time one of you shifts. Your hands bump as you both reach for the deck, and Joe pauses, letting his fingers linger against yours for a second too long before pulling away.

“You’re nervous,” he says, his tone teasing but his eyes soft.

“Not at all,” you lie, playing a Reverse card with exaggerated flair.

He counters with a Draw Four, leaning back with a satisfied smirk. “Sure you’re not.”

The game goes down to the wire, but in the end, Joe throws down his last card with a triumphant laugh.

“Victory,” he says, leaning back on his hands. “Looks like you owe me a date.”

You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling. “You’re insufferable.”

“Maybe. But I’m insufferable and taking you out.”

Neither of you moves from the floor. You’re both leaning against the couch now, the energy calmer but still charged.

“Can I say something?” he asked, his voice quieter now.

“Sure,” you said, your heart thudding in your chest.

Joe hesitated for a moment, then said, “I think I’ve liked you for a while now. Like … more than just a friend.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his sudden honesty. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he said, his gaze steady. “And I’ve been trying to find the right time to tell you, but I figured if I didn’t say it tonight, I might never say it. It’s fine if you don’t feel the same,” he continues, his voice softer now. “I just … I needed you to know.”

A slow smile spread across your face. “You know, you could’ve just said that instead of making me play UNO.”

Joe laughed, reaching out to take your hand. “Where’s the fun in that?”

You squeezed his hand, leaning closer. “For the record, I think I’ve liked you for a while too.”

His grin widened, and before you could say anything else, he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that’s soft and hesitant at first, then deeper as you both lean into it.

When you finally pull back, you’re both smiling.

“So,” you say, trying to lighten the mood, “when’s this date happening?”

Joe grins, his confidence back in full force. “How about right now?”

You laugh, leaning into him as he wraps an arm around your shoulders. “Fine. But next time we’re playing UNO, I’m winning.”

“We’ll see about that,” he says, pressing a kiss to your temple. “But for now, I’m just glad I finally told you.”

[burrowlvrr]

— MORTGAGE MISCHIEF, joe burrow.

PAIRING: Joe Burrow 𝔁 Black!Wife!Reader

GENRE: Husband & Dad Joe

SUMMARY: In which — Y/N caves in and makes a TikTok account, and it doesn't take long for her to try to prank her unserious husband.

NOTE: I love this trend on TikTok so freaking much, bro, I just couldn't help myself. I wish there was more pranks going around TikTok so I could write another one lol! Feel free to send me more ideas and suggestions, enjoy!

UNIVERSE: Tenderhearts & Touchdowns!

Y/N had never been the kind of person to keep up with social media trends. Her Instagram was mostly filled with family snapshots, vacation photos, and the occasional throwback post from her college days. TikTok, though? That was a whole different ballgame.

She’d heard the buzz about it, of course—the dances, the memes, the endless rabbit hole of videos that could steal hours of your day—but it wasn’t really her thing.

That is, until some of Joe’s fans started flooding her DMs.

It wasn’t unusual for her to get messages from fans, most of them kind and supportive, occasionally sprinkled with the usual social media chaos. But after a family photo Joe posted went viral—a candid shot of the two of them laughing while their kids played in the background—her inbox blew up.

Several people had suggested she start a TikTok account, saying things like, “Your family is so cute, we’d love to see more of you guys!” and “Please post more videos of Joe being a dad; it’s the content we all need!”

At first, she brushed it off. The idea of putting her family out there in such a public way made her hesitant. Their life was private, cozy, and real—did she really want to open that up to the internet? But the messages kept coming, and her curiosity eventually got the better of her. One evening, after the kids were asleep and Joe was watching game highlights, she downloaded the app.

It didn’t take long for TikTok to reel her in. The first few days, she lurked quietly, scrolling through endless videos of clever pranks, hilarious parenting fails, and, of course, a whole section of TikToks dedicated to football wives and girlfriends. It was the pranks that hooked her.

Women were pulling the funniest, most creative stunts on their unsuspecting husbands—pretending to be mad over made-up arguments, mispronouncing their favorite athletes’ names, and her personal favorite, casually dropping bombshell “confessions” to see how their partners would react.

She couldn’t resist.

“This would be perfect for Joe,” she’d said to herself one night, already grinning at the thought. He was so even-keeled most of the time, but his sass came out when he was caught off guard, and she couldn’t wait to see what he’d say.

So, Y/N started posting. At first, it was just lighthearted videos of their kids, like Hudson and Elijah racing each other in the backyard or Sawyer trying to crawl after their dog, who always managed to stay just out of reach. The comments poured in, full of love and laughter, and she started to feel less nervous about sharing these little moments. And then came the pranks.

She eased into them, starting small—things like pretending to forget what day of the week it was or asking Joe if she could switch his game-day hoodie with one of hers. His reactions were gold, and her videos started gaining traction. She didn’t know how many people would find it so funny, but apparently, the internet loved Joe Burrow getting pranked as much as she did.

Which is how she found herself, phone in hand, ready to execute her latest and possibly best trend yet: the “I can’t pay the mortgage this month” prank.

The living room buzzed with the quiet hum of family life. Hudson and Elijah were seated cross-legged on the rug, their faces scrunched in concentration as they connected Lego pieces, the colorful blocks scattered across the coffee table like a mini construction zone. Sawyer, their youngest, was on the floor nearby, rolling lazily on her playmat while holding her bottle with both hands, occasionally babbling nonsense to herself.

Joe was stretched out on the couch, the epitome of relaxation in his gray hoodie and sweatpants, his wife’s legs comfortably draped over his thighs. His focus was glued to the MMA fight playing on the TV, and he absently stirred his spoon around a bowl of cereal balanced in his hand.

Every so often, he’d let out a low, “Oof,” reacting to a particularly hard punch or takedown, his body slightly tensing with the action on screen.

Y/N sat beside him, phone in hand, scrolling through TikTok. She stumbled across the trend a few hours ago, and decided that now was too good an opportunity to pass up.

Glancing sideways at Joe, she smirked to herself. This will be fun.

She adjusted her phone subtly, angling it to record, and cleared her throat dramatically. “Joe?”

“Hmm?” he murmured, not taking his eyes off the screen as he scooped another bite of cereal.

“I need to tell you something,” she said softly, injecting a hint of nervousness into her tone.

Joe didn’t look up. “What’s up, baby?”

“Don’t get mad at me, okay?” she added, biting her bottom lip to suppress a grin.

That got his attention. Joe’s hand froze midair, his spoon hovering over the bowl, and he turned his head toward her, squinting slightly.

“What? Why would I get mad?” His sharp gaze shifted to the phone in her lap. “Wait… why’re you recording? You pregnant again?”

Y/N burst out laughing at his assumption, unable to keep up her serious facade. “What? No!”

“Are you sure? ‘Cause that’s how you told me about Sawyer,” he replied with a smirk, leaning back on the couch and rubbing his free hand over his face.

“You just pulled out your phone, started recording, and bam—‘Congratulations, you’re gonna be a dad again!’” Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t help giggling. “I’m serious, Joe. This is important.”

“Alright, alright,” he said, setting his cereal down on the side table and shifting so he was facing her fully. “What’s going on? And why are you being all dramatic about it?”

Y/N took a deep breath, steadying herself before delivering her line. “I, uh… I won’t be able to pay the mortgage this month.”

Joe blinked at her, his brows knitting together in confusion. “Girl, what are you talking about?” His tone was casual but tinged with disbelief.

She tried to keep her composure, clasping her hands together as if pleading. “The school’s on winter break, so my paycheck isn’t going to be enough. I just—ugh, I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

Joe stared at her for a moment, his expression unreadable. “Okay, wait. How much is the mortgage?”

Y/N’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. “Uh… like… $2,000?” she guessed, feigning confidence.

Joe’s mouth twitched, and he let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Babe. You don’t even know how much it is, do you?”

“Well…” she stalled, trying to recover.

“That’s what I thought,” he said, leaning back against the couch and crossing his arms. “You’ve never paid the mortgage.”

“I know!” Y/N blurted, throwing her hands up dramatically. “I was going to as your Christmas present, but my paycheck won’t be enough now!”

Joe’s brow furrowed again, but this time his lips quirked upward, unable to hide his amusement. “So let me get this straight. You don’t know how much the mortgage is. You’ve never paid it before. And now you’re stressed because your Christmas present was gonna be paying it, but you can’t?”

“Exactly!” she said, doubling down.

For a moment, Joe just stared at her, then he broke into a deep laugh, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “You’re crazy,” he muttered, shaking his head. Grabbing his cereal bowl, he leaned back against the couch.

“Don’t worry about it, babe. I got it.” He scooped another spoonful and took a bite like it was the most casual thing in the world.

Y/N couldn’t hold it in any longer. She burst into laughter, clutching her stomach as she nearly dropped her phone.

Joe raised an eyebrow at her, still chewing. “What’s so funny now?”

“It was a TikTok prank!” she wheezed, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes.

Joe’s smirk deepened as he shook his head. “Yeah, I figured. There’s no way you were being serious.”

“You were so calm about it, though!” she said, still laughing. “I really thought I’d get a bigger reaction out of you!”

“Nah,” Joe replied, reaching over to pinch her ankle playfully. “You’re too bad at lying, babe. Next time, at least Google how much the mortgage is first.”

From the floor, Hudson looked up from the Lego set with a curious expression. “What’s a mortgage?”

Joe snorted, pointing his spoon at his son. “Something you don’t gotta worry about, buddy.”

Elijah chimed in without looking up from his Legos. “Mommy’s bad at pranks.”

Sawyer let out a happy babble from her playmat, almost as if she agreed.

Joe laughed, pulling Y/N closer with one arm. “Looks like the jury’s unanimous, babe. Better luck next time.”

[goldsainz]

#JB9 — YOUR FAVOURITE ATHLETE !

MASTERLIST !

001. SUMMARY !

✯ when your ex-boyfriend breaks your heart, you decide to move on with his favourite athlete.

002. NOTE !

✯ big HUGE thank you to dua lipa and callum turner for being the cutest ever and giving us smau makers so. much. content. also when i proofread i realised i put “Your Boyfriend’s Name” instead of ex-boyfriend so just… roll with it pleaseee 🙏

liked by joeyb_9, doechii and 742,085 others

yourusername …ready to mingle 🫧

view all 11,327 comments

ynfan1 UM IS THIS CONFIRMATION?

joefan1 girl is that cincinnati🤨

sabrinacarpenter one chance is all i need

⤷ yourusername i’d give a million to you!

ynfan2 finally left her lame bf

ynfan3 chat do i have a shot at bagging her

joefan2 joe liking… i’m keeping an eye on this

ynfan4 who’s joe and why is everyone freaking out

⤷ joefan3 nfl player! he rarely interacts on social media so him liking this is a bit out of character

⤷ ynfan4 nooo we’ve lost her again 😔😔😔

ynfan5 idk what she’s doing in my city but she’s slaying

joefan4 JOE YOU CANNOT FUMBLE THIS

ynfan6 “…ready to mingle” what. the. fuck.

liked by ynfan21, joefan21 and 83,924 others

deuxmoi DEUXMOI EXCLUSIVE…Joe Burrow and YN LN spotted in Cincinnati after a cozy dinner date.

view all 1,258 comments

ynfan22 do we know why yn and her ex-boyfriend broke up?

⤷ deuxmoi Allegedly, he cheated on her multiple times and the final straw for YN was that he was after one of her close friends (who told her, leading to their breakup).

joefan22 okay yup they’re dating

ynfan23 BEAUTIFUL! and he’s there too ig

ynfan24 idk who joe burrow is but he’s my #1 enemy now

⤷ joefan23 i think he’ll be alright……

ynfan25 THEYRE SO CUTE????

ynfan26 just started dating and he’s already better than her ex

joefan24 lost my man💔 but it’s by yn😁

⤷ ynfan27 lost my girl💔💔💔💔💔

yourusername and joeyb_9 updated their instagram stories!

liked by oliviarodrigo, nathypeluso and 1,039,826 others

yourusername 🫀

view all 15,973 comments

joeyb_9 Hope you had a good tour guide

⤷ yourusername the best 💯

joefan31 IS THAT JOE’S HOODIE

ynfan31 i am freaking tf out

gabbriette looking good mamaaa

⤷ yourusername says you!!!!

ynfan32 the heart caption🥹🥹🥹

joefan32 wait was joe her tour guide

⤷ ynfan33 OMG YES

ynfan34 TAKE THAT YN’S EX (can’t even remember his name lmao)

joefan33 i’d bet a million dollars that that’s joe’s hoodie

ynfan35 mamá y papá

ynfan36 couple goals

⤷ joefan34 we’ve barely seen anything BUT I AGREE

[burrowswomen]

❥ SO AMERICAN ━━━━━ JOE BURROW

: ̗̀➛ word count: 5.6k

: ̗̀➛ warnings: nothing

: ̗̀➛ noor speaks: this took me over a month to write.. so i hope you guys all enjoy!!! (i recommended reading this in ur best british accent to truly get in character)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

you moved from london to the bay area when you were seventeen.

back home, in london you had never thought much about your ‘accent’—it was just how you spoke, how the people in the uk spoke. but in high school, it became the first thing people noticed about you. the moment you opened your mouth, the teasing started. the way you pronounced words, the slight differences in your vocabulary—it was all fair game for mockery.

so you stopped talking as much. it was easier that way.

but in college, things changed. your accent had softened a bit by then, and instead of being something people laughed at, it became something they found interesting. you had decided to major in journalism, hoping to get a career in digital content creation. by the time you graduated, you landed a job with the los angeles chargers before applying with and getting the job with the cincinnati bengals’ social media team.

you thought you were past the days of people being caught off guard by how you spoke.

but california was one thing. ohio? the middle of basically nowhere? yeah, your accent stuck out again.

whenever you had to interview players for tiktok, there were always multiple takes—not because you messed up, but because the guys needed a second to adjust. they never meant anything by it, but it was obvious that your voice wasn’t what they expected. ja'marr and tee would always end up joking around, slipping into their own exaggerated british accents, making you roll your eyes but laugh anyway.

but joe?

he hated social media. he understood it was part of the job, but if he could avoid it, he would. he’d rather hide behind his helmet than have a mini mic shoved in his face. getting him to agree to even one short clip was nearly impossible.

but today, you had finally gotten him to say yes. just one question. ten seconds, max.

you weren’t about to waste the opportunity.

you hit record, holding up the mic as joe stood in front of you, hands on his hips, already looking like he regretted saying yes.

"so the question of the day is—"

you didn’t even get to finish before joe burst out laughing. 

you sighed. you were used to this by now.

“joe.”

“i’m sorry,” he said, shaking his head. “let’s try again.”

you gave him a look but restarted. “so, what is your favorite—”

before you could finish, joe stepped out of the frame, laughing again.

“joe!”

“i’m sorry!”

“my accent is barely there! i don’t know what you’re laughing at!”

joe shook his head, still grinning. “nope. it’s still very much there.”

you rolled your eyes. “joe, you’re literally the most american person ever, so don’t.”

he smirked. “yeah, whatever.”

-

after the tenth try, y/n didn’t even bother continuing. she just sighed, shaking her head as joe continued to smirk at her, clearly amused.

"i can't work under these conditions," you muttered, wrapping the mic cord as you stopped the video. "this is why i just stick to ja'marr and tee."

joe huffed out a laugh, still standing with his hands on his hips. "yeah, because they don’t make fun of you at all, right?"

you shot him a look. "oh, they absolutely do. but at least they answer the question before they start acting like i just walked out of a sherlock holmes novel."

joe grinned, but he was still trying to hide his laughter. she could tell.

she glanced down at her phone, debating if she should attempt one more take or just give up entirely. she was pretty sure if she tried again, joe would just find another excuse to laugh. it was rare to even get him in front of the camera like this, but now she was realizing that maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t as opposed to it as he let on.

"alright, burrow," you said, stuffing her phone into her pocket. "you win this round."

joe lifted an eyebrow. "i didn’t know this was a competition."

"everything is a competition," you shot back, before turning on your heel to leave.

"so you’re just gonna give up?"

you glanced back at him, smirking. "oh, i’ll get you on camera again. just you wait."

joe just shook his head, still grinning as he walked away.

but after that, something changed.

he stopped avoiding the social media team so much. he still wasn’t exactly eager to be in videos, but he didn’t disappear the moment he saw her coming towards him, either. he didn’t roll his eyes when she approached him with a mic. if anything, he almost seemed like he was waiting for it.

you noticed the way his teammates looked at him whenever you came around, smirking like they knew something you didn’t.

and maybe they did.

but it was safe to say, you did not get that ten-second clip.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

a few days passed before y/n attempted to interview joe again. she wasn’t in a rush—if there was one thing she had learned since working with the team, it was that patience was key.

so when she spotted him on the field during practice, standing near the sideline with his helmet tucked under his arm, she decided it was time.

"alright, burrow," she called as she approached, phone in hand, mic already clipped onto it. "rematch."

joe turned, squinting against the sunlight. "rematch?"

"last time, you didn’t even let me get the question out without laughing," she said, stopping in front of him. "so, we’re trying again."

he huffed out a small laugh, shaking his head. "i didn’t laugh on purpose."

"yeah, yeah, tell that to the footage i have," she said, unlocking her phone. "so, can i get a serious answer this time?"

joe sighed, as if this was the biggest inconvenience of his day, but she could see the slight smirk pulling at his lips. "fine. one question."

y/n grinned, lifting her phone. "okay. If there were an alien on the team, who on the team would it be?" 

she barely got the words out before joe pressed his lips together, his shoulders shaking.

"joe," she warned.

he exhaled, trying to compose himself, nodding. "okay, okay. i got it."

"Who on the team might be an alie—"

joe broke again, tilting his head back as he laughed, completely stepping out of frame.

y/n groaned, stopping the recording. "you’re impossible."

joe wiped his hand down his face, still grinning. "i’m sorry, i really am. it’s just—i don’t know, it catches me off guard every time."

"my accent is barely even there anymore!" she argued, shoving her phone into her pocket.

joe raised an eyebrow. "it’s very much still there."

she rolled her eyes. "you’re just so american, that’s why."

"yeah, whatever," he muttered, shaking his head.

she let out a dramatic sigh. "safe to say, i’m never getting this done, huh?"

joe shrugged. "maybe next time."

"so there’s a next time?" she asked, tilting her head.

he paused for a second before smirking. "we’ll see."

as he walked away, y/n just stood there, watching him go.

and despite failing yet again, she couldn’t help but smile.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

it became a thing after that.

y/n wasn’t sure when exactly, but somehow, joe burrow—the man who avoided social media at all costs—had become her biggest challenge and, oddly, her most entertaining subject.

he never outright agreed to being filmed, but he also never walked away when she approached him, phone in hand, mic ready. instead, he’d give her the same exasperated look, like he was dealing with the biggest inconvenience of his life, before sighing and saying, “one question.”

and every single time, without fail, she never got her answer.

if it wasn’t joe laughing at her accent, it was him making some dry remark that threw her off completely, or worse, making her laugh instead.

one afternoon, after practice, she found him near the bench, towel slung over his shoulder, sweat still clinging to his skin. prime time for a quick interview.

"joe, what’s your go-to hype song before a game?" she asked, phone up, recording already rolling.

joe took a sip from his water bottle, considering. "hmm. probably something really good."

"like?"

"i don’t know, taylor swift or something."

she blinked putting her camera and mic down. "you’re lying."

he shrugged. "am i?"

y/n narrowed her eyes. "name one taylor swift song."

joe paused for a beat, then smirked. "that’s classified."

"oh, you so listen to her," she accused, pointing at him. "swiftie joe is real."

"never said that," he said, amused.

"never denied it either."

he just grinned before walking off, towel draped over his shoulder.

y/n sighed, but she wasn’t even annoyed.

she had a feeling their little game was just getting good.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

joe adjusted his helmet, ready to run the next play, when something in his peripheral caught his attention.

you.

you were standing on the sideline, laughing at something justin—one of the social media guys—was saying. the two of you were standing close, heads tilted toward each other as you scrolled through something on your phone. joe didn’t know why he was paying attention to it, but he was.

"what’s happening over there?" joe asked, nodding in your direction.

ja'marr followed his gaze, then snorted. "looks like they’re tryna decide which ugly picture of us to post."

joe glanced at him, then back at you. you were still laughing, your head tilting back slightly. justin was grinning, clearly proud of whatever he’d just said.

joe didn’t know why, but it bothered him. just a little.

"his name’s justin, right?" joe asked, keeping his tone casual.

"yeah," ja'marr said, stretching his arms over his head. "j something.."

joe hummed in response, eyes still on you. he wasn’t sure what it was—maybe it was how close you were standing. or the way justin kept leaning in slightly when he talked. or maybe it was the fact that he’d never seen you laugh like that at something he said.

"bro, why you acting like that?" ja'marr asked, smirking.

joe frowned. "acting like what?"

"like you care."

"i don’t," joe said quickly. too quickly.

ja'marr just laughed, jogging to his position. "yeah, aight."

joe rolled his eyes, shaking his head. he didn’t care. he really didn’t.

but when the next play started, his focus was slightly off. and he definitely wasn’t looking at the sideline again.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

after practice wrapped up, you were still on the field, scrolling through clips on your phone while justin stood next to you, pointing out which ones would do best on tiktok.

"this one's solid," he said, tapping the screen. "ja’marr’s gonna hate you for it, though."

you rolled your eyes. "when does he not?"

justin chuckled before checking his watch. "i gotta go edit some stuff. you good here?"

you nodded. "yeah, i’ll be in shortly."

he jogged off, leaving you standing there, still reviewing footage. you were so focused you didn’t notice joe walking up until his shadow crossed over your screen.

"what’s so funny?"

you looked up, surprised to see him. "huh?"

"earlier. you and justin," joe said, nodding toward the facility where justin had disappeared. "what were you laughing at?"

you raised a brow, confused at the random question. "oh. he was just showing me some clips of ja’marr messing up his words. it was funny."

joe nodded slowly, like he was considering something. "you two seem close."

you blinked at him. was he… making conversation? joe burrow?

"i mean, we work together," you said, studying his expression. "same as me and you."

joe scoffed. "not the same."

your brows furrowed. "how is it not the same?"

joe shrugged, glancing away like he didn’t want to answer that.

you tilted your head slightly, then smirked. "wait a minute…"

his eyes snapped back to yours, slightly guarded. "what?"

"are you jealous?"

joe’s face stayed neutral, but his ears—clear as day—turned red. "no."

you grinned. "oh my god, you are jealous."

"i’m not," he insisted, but the way he shifted uncomfortably told you otherwise.

"joe," you teased, stepping just a little closer. "if you wanted me to laugh at your jokes, you could’ve just said that."

joe huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. "i don’t care if you laugh at my jokes."

"mhmm."

"i don’t."

you stared at him for a second before sighing dramatically. "well, that’s a shame, ‘cause i was gonna say you’re actually kinda funny sometimes."

joe smirked. "only sometimes?"

"don’t push it, burrow."

he chuckled, shaking his head as he started walking off. "see you inside, london."

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile that lingered even after he was gone.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

later that afternoon, you were back in the media room, editing clips from the day’s practice. the familiar sound of pads hitting the turf and players yelling filled your headphones as you sifted through footage, piecing together something that would do well hopefully.

justin leaned back in his chair next to you, watching over your shoulder. "so, you and burrow, huh?"

you froze for half a second before playing it off. "what about me and burrow?"

justin smirked. "you tell me."

you turned to give him a look. "there's nothing to tell."

"right," he said, dragging out the word. "so he wasn’t all weird earlier when he saw us talking?"

you scoffed. "he wasn’t weird."

justin shot you a knowing look. "so he was something."

you exhaled sharply, shaking your head. "i don't know what he was. probably just bored. or nosy. or both."

justin hummed, unconvinced. "uh-huh. i don’t think i’ve ever seen him ask about what you’re talking about before."

"maybe ‘cause we were laughing kinda loudly," you pointed out.

"i mean, he did call you ‘london’ on his way out," justin said, raising his eyebrows. "don’t act like that’s normal."

you rolled your eyes. "he's called me that before." lie

"he really hasn't."

you opened your mouth to argue but realized… justin was kinda right. joe didn’t really use nicknames for people, —especially for you.

justin grinned at your silence. "see? i knew it."

"there's nothing to know," you insisted, turning back to your laptop.

"mhmm. we’ll see about that," justin said, leaning back with a smug look on his face.

you ignored him and focused on your work, but the thought lingered—was joe acting different around you? and if he was… why did it make your heart race just a little?

you quickly composed yourself before, you shook your head, trying to shake off justin’s teasing. "either way, it doesn’t matter. staff and players aren’t even allowed to be involved with each other outside of work. it’s in the contract."

justin leaned forward, a smug look crossing his face. "ahh, see, that’s where you’re wrong."

your brows furrowed as you watched him click around on his computer. a few seconds later, he pulled up a digital copy of the social media team’s contract. he scrolled for a moment before stopping and turning the screen toward you. "go ahead. read it."

you hesitated before leaning in, eyes scanning the document carefully. you searched for the part you were sure existed—the rule that prohibited any kind of relationship between players and staff.

but it wasn’t there.

your eyes narrowed as you read the section over again, then a third time just to be sure.

"wait," you muttered, your finger tracing the lines of text. "so… there’s actually no rule against it?"

justin leaned back in his chair, arms crossed with a satisfied smirk. "nope. nowhere in the contract does it say staff and players can’t date. it just says you have to remain professional in the workplace."

you blinked, still rereading the section as if the words would suddenly change. "that… doesn’t make sense. i thought it was a rule."

"nah, it’s just an unspoken thing. probably to avoid drama or whatever. but technically? totally allowed," justin said, watching your reaction closely. "why? thinking about breaking a nonexistent rule, london?"

you immediately rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t ignore the way your heart had started beating a little faster. "no, i was just—i don’t know, i thought it was a thing."

justin grinned. "yeah, well, now you know it’s not."

you shook your head, sitting back in your chair. "well, doesn’t matter. not like it applies to me anyway."

justin raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. "uh-huh. sure it doesn’t."

you ignored him, turning your focus back to your work. but now, the thought lingered. there’s no actual rule.

you weren’t sure why that information sat so heavily in your chest. maybe it shouldn’t have changed anything.

but somehow, it did.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

over the next couple of months, things started to shift—not in an obvious way, but in the little things. joe was still the same guy, still hated social media, still keeping his distance from the cameras when he could. but he didn’t avoid you anymore.

he was still a challenge to get on camera, but sometimes, if you caught him at the right moment, he’d answer a question. nothing long, nothing groundbreaking, but it was progress. and then there were the other moments.

like when you’d make a joke, and he’d actually laugh. not just a small chuckle, but an actual laugh, the kind that made his eyes crinkle at the corners. or when he’d linger a little longer after practice, standing just close enough to the media team that you knew he was listening, even if he pretended he wasn’t.

and then there was today.

you were standing on the sideline during practice, waiting for the right moment to grab a quick clip for social media. the team was running drills, and you were half-watching, half-scrolling through your phone when joe walked up beside you.

“you waiting for someone?” he asked, nodding toward your phone.

you looked up at him. “yeah, actually. waiting for you to agree to be in a tiktok longer then 15 seconds.”

he scoffed, shaking his head. “not happening.”

you smirked. “figured as much.”

there was a comfortable silence for a moment before joe glanced at you. “so… do british people really drive on the left side of the road?”

you looked at him, raising a brow. “no, joe, that’s just a myth. we actually drive upside down.”

he rolled his eyes, but you could see the corner of his mouth twitch like he was fighting a smile. “i’m serious.”

“yes, we drive on the left,” you said. “the same way you americans drive on the right.”

he gave you a look. “why do you say ‘americans’ like that?”

you blinked. “like what?”

“like—i don’t know,” he shrugged. “like you’re separating yourself from us.”

you tilted your head. “are you not american?”

“no, i am,” he said slowly.

you grinned. “exactly. you’re so american.”

joe frowned. “what does that even mean?”

“oh, you want a list?” you teased. “fine. one, you love football more than anything. two, you are from ohio. three, you’re obsessed with your—”

joe held up a hand, cutting you off. “first of all, i play football. i kinda have to love it.”

you laughed. “see? proving my point.”

he shook his head, but he was smiling now, and for a split second, you forgot this was the same guy who used to avoid you and the cameras at all costs.

“you’re ridiculous,” he muttered.

“and you’re american.”

he rolled his eyes again, but he didn’t walk away. and that? that made you feel something.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

as much as you loved your job, today had drained you. between filming, editing, and keeping up with the constant content demands, you were exhausted. so when practice finally wrapped up and most of the staff started heading home, you packed up your equipment as quickly as you could, ready to do the same.

the hallways were mostly empty as you walked toward the parking lot, the sounds of your footsteps echoing against the walls. the air smelled faintly of turf and sweat, a reminder of the hours spent on the field earlier.

your mind had already started drifting—thinking about how good it would feel to collapse into bed—when you heard footsteps behind you. you didn’t think much of it at first. plenty of people left around this time. but then—

“y/n.”

the familiar voice made you pause mid-step. you turned, your eyes landing on joe burrow a few feet away. he was out of his usual practice gear, now in a hoodie and sweats, his hands tucked into his pockets.

“you leaving?” he asked, nodding toward your bag.

you raised a brow. “no, i’m actually planning to sleep here tonight.”

joe’s face scrunched in confusion. “really? why?”

you stared at him.

his lips parted slightly, realization dawning on his face. “oh.”

“yeah, joe,” you said, amused. “i’m leaving.”

he exhaled through his nose, shaking his head at himself. “right.” he hesitated for a second, then shifted his weight. “i’ll, uh… i’ll walk you to—uhm, your car.”

you stopped, looking at him.

“okay…” you said slowly, trying to figure him out.

he just nodded, stepping into place beside you as you both started toward the parking lot.

for the first few moments, neither of you spoke. the air was cool, the last remnants of daylight stretching long shadows across the pavement.

“so,” you said, breaking the silence, “do you always offer to walk staff to their cars, or am i just special?”

joe huffed out a laugh. “nah. just you.”

you glanced at him. “hmm.”

another pause.

“you’re quieter than usual,” you observed.

he shrugged. “long day.”

“tell me about it.”

“yeah?” he asked, glancing at you.

“yeah,” you sighed. “i swear, i spent half my time just trying to get tee to answer one question without him messing around. and don’t even get me started on ja’marr.”

joe smirked. “sounds about right.”

you rolled your eyes. “sometimes i think you guys make our job harder just for fun.”

he didn’t even try to deny it.

by the time you reached your car, the parking lot was almost empty. you stopped beside your driver’s side door, unlocking the door with your keys, just as you were about to reach forward to open it, joe reached forward and pulled the handle open for you.

you hesitated, your eyes flicking up to him. “thanks.”

joe shifted slightly, his fingers tapping against the edge of his hoodie pocket. “uhm.”

you stilled, waiting.

he took a breath. “would you wanna get coffee someday?” he asked, then quickly added, “or tea. i know british people like tea.”

your brows raised slightly.

joe burrow was asking you to coffee. or tea.

you crossed your arms, leaning against the car. “you're asking me?”

his jaw tightened. “yeah.”

you let him sit in his lie for a moment before smiling.

“yeah, sure.”

his eyes met yours. “yeah?”

you nodded. “yeah.”

he exhaled, something almost like relief flashing across his face.

“alright,” he said, stepping back.

you slid into your car, still half in shock at what had just happened.

“goodnight, joe.”

“goodnight, y/n.”

he shut your door gently, gave you a small nod, and turned back toward the facility.

you sat there for a second, gripping the steering wheel. then, finally, you shook your head, a grin creeping across your face as you started the engine.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

you weren’t exactly sure what you were expecting when joe asked you to coffee, but it wasn’t this.

it wasn’t him actually following through with it, texting you the next morning with a time and place already picked out. it wasn’t him choosing a quiet, locally owned café instead of some big-name chain. and it definitely wasn’t you sitting across from him now, in a corner of the shop, feeling surprisingly… comfortable.

it had been a while since you’d been on anything that remotely resembled a date. not that this was a date. you didn’t think it was, anyway.

joe had been waiting for you when you arrived, standing outside with his hands in the pockets of his hoodie, glancing down at his phone before looking up when he saw you approach. he gave you a small nod, the corners of his mouth twitching up into the hint of a smile.

“you actually showed up,” you said, half-joking, half-surprised.

joe let out a small chuckle. “you thought i was gonna bail?”

“i mean, you don’t even like social media. why would i think you’d voluntarily spend time with someone from the social media team?”

“touché,” he said, pulling the door open for you.

and now here you were, sitting across from him, your fingers wrapped around the warmth of your tea as you watched him take a sip of his coffee.

“so, do you always drink tea, or is that just something you have to do because you’re british?” joe asked, tilting his head slightly.

you rolled your eyes, setting your cup down. “yes, joe. it’s a legal requirement. we sign a contract at birth.”

his lips curled into a smirk. “figured as much.”

“but no,” you said. “i just like it. coffee’s fine, but tea’s better.”

joe scoffed. “wrong.”

you gave him a pointed look. “so american.”

joe raised an eyebrow. “you always say that. like it’s a bad thing.”

“it’s not bad,” you said. “you’re just… very american.”

joe leaned back in his chair, folding his arms. “explain.”

a smirk played on your lips as you leaned forward slightly. “first of all, you guys think everything is better when it’s bigger. portions, cars, houses—”

“because it is,” joe interjected.

“second,” you continued, ignoring him, “you’re all obsessed with football. and no, before you say it, i don’t mean actual football. i mean whatever you guys are playing.”

joe scoffed. “whatever we’re playing?”

“yeah, the one where you barely use your foot,” you teased.

joe shook his head, taking another sip of his coffee. “anything else?”

“oh, plenty,” you said. “but i don’t wanna hurt your feelings.”

joe narrowed his eyes, shaking his head with an amused expression. “you talk a lot more when it’s just us.”

you paused for a moment. he wasn’t wrong.

for most of your life, you’d been the quiet one. the one who held back, who let other people lead the conversation while you carefully picked your moments to speak. but around joe? it was easy.

“guess i do,” you admitted, stirring your tea absentmindedly.

joe didn’t say anything right away. he just watched you, his blue eyes studying you in a way that made your face feel a little too warm.

you cleared your throat, shifting the conversation. “so, why’d you ask me to coffee?”

joe shrugged. “felt like it.”

you narrowed your eyes. “that’s not an answer.”

“sure it is.”

“joe.”

he exhaled through his nose, his fingers tapping lightly against the table. “i don’t know,” he finally said. “i just wanted to.”

for some reason, that answer felt more honest than anything else he could’ve said.

you held his gaze for a moment, then looked down at your cup, a small smile tugging at your lips.

maybe this was just coffee. maybe it was nothing more than two coworkers grabbing a drink.

but deep down, you had a feeling this wasn’t the last time you and joe burrow would be sitting across from each other like this.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

it all happened so naturally that you hadn’t even realized it was happening.

one coffee date turned into two. then three. then, one day, instead of coffee, joe texted:

"you eat dinner, right?"

you had laughed at the message, typing back: "no, i survive solely on tea and biscuits."

and that’s how coffee turned into dinner. dinner at small restaurants tucked away from the city, where the waitstaff knew joe by name but treated him like any other customer. dinner that turned into longer nights spent together, conversation flowing as easily as the wine you sometimes shared.

then, somehow, dinner at restaurants turned into dinner at his house. or yours.

at first, it was a casual suggestion. joe had an off day and didn’t feel like going out, so he said, "why don’t we just cook something?" and you agreed, not thinking much of it.

but one night, as you stood in his kitchen, chopping vegetables while he stood behind you, looking over your shoulder, something shifted.

"you’re doing that wrong," he muttered, reaching past you to grab the knife from your hand.

"oh, i’m sorry, gordon ramsay," you said, rolling your eyes. "by all means, enlighten me."

joe chuckled, shaking his head as he took over. "just watch."

you crossed your arms, leaning against the counter, watching as he cut the vegetables with precise, practiced movements. "you do this often?"

"cooking?" he asked, glancing at you. "yeah. gotta eat."

"right," you said, biting back a smile. "good observation."

he smirked, nudging you lightly with his elbow before continuing to chop.

you watched him in silence for a moment, taking in the way his jaw tensed in concentration, the way his hands moved with confidence.

and before you could even think twice about it, you said, "you know, i like this."

joe paused, glancing at you again. "like what?"

"this," you said, gesturing vaguely between the two of you. "cooking together. just… us."

for a split second, something flashed in joe’s eyes. something softer, something unreadable.

"yeah," he said after a moment. "me too."

then, before you could process it, he was leaning in.

his lips brushed against yours so lightly at first that you almost thought you imagined it. but then he kissed you, his hands settling on your waist as he pulled you closer.

your breath hitched, fingers gripping the fabric of his hoodie as you kissed him back.

the knife clattered onto the cutting board, long forgotten.

dinner could wait.

—

one kiss turned into more.

more nights spent together. more stolen moments between work and practice, more teasing remarks that carried an undertone of something deeper.

until, one night, as you were curled up on his couch, your head resting against his chest while some movie played in the background, joe murmured, "be my girlfriend."

it wasn’t a question. it wasn’t even hesitant. it was just… fact. like he had already decided and was simply waiting for you to confirm it.

you tilted your head up, meeting his gaze. "was that your way of asking?"

joe smirked. "was i supposed to get down on one knee?"

"well, it would’ve been more romantic," you teased.

"next time," he said.

"next time?"

"yeah," he said, his fingers tracing absentminded circles on your arm. "like when i ask you to marry me."

your breath caught in your throat. "bold of you to assume i’d say yes."

joe just shrugged, completely unfazed. "you will."

and, well… yeah. he wasn’t wrong.

—

being joe burrow’s girlfriend came with a lot of things. attention, sure. but also late-night drives, laughter-filled mornings, and the kind of quiet moments that made you realize just how much you loved someone.

meeting his parents was another thing entirely.

you had been nervous, of course. but his mom had welcomed you with open arms, his dad had given joe a look that very clearly said, "you better not screw this up," and by the end of the night, his parents were treating you like you had always been a part of their family.

which led to now—where you basically lived at joe’s house.

you still had your own apartment, technically. but considering that the majority of your clothes, your toiletries, and even your favorite tea were now at joe’s place… yeah, you weren’t there very often.

"you know you live here now, right?" joe said one evening, as you stood in his bathroom, brushing your teeth with your toothbrush you had kept in his bathroom.

"i do not," you said, words muffled by the toothbrush.

"you do," he insisted.

"just because i spend a lot of time here doesn’t mean i live here."

joe gave you a look. "you have more clothes in my closet than i do."

you shrugged, spitting into the sink before looking at him. "so?"

"so," he said, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. "just move in already."

you stared at joe, toothbrush still in hand, as his words settled over you. "just move in already." like it was the easiest decision in the world. like he had already decided it was going to happen, and he was just waiting for you to catch up.

his eyes were steady, watching you for any sign of hesitation, but all you could do was laugh, shaking your head as you set the toothbrush down on the counter.

"what?" joe asked, his smirk turning into something softer, more curious.

you leaned against the sink, arms crossed. "you didn’t even ask. you just told me to move in."

joe tilted his head slightly, like he was thinking it over. then he shrugged. "so?"

"so," you repeated, mimicking his tone. "that’s not how it works."

"okay," he said, straightening up. "will you move in with me?"

you let the question linger for a second, enjoying the way joe was watching you like he already knew the answer. because of course he did.

finally, you sighed dramatically, shaking your head as you walked past him, brushing your fingers against his arm.

"gosh, you’re so american."

joe turned, following you as you headed toward the bedroom. "what does that even mean?"

you threw him a grin over your shoulder. "figure it out, burrow."

and, judging by the way he was smiling as he chased after you, he already had.

[burrowdarling]

Baby Burrow

Summary: After your long day at Disney celebrating baby #2, you reminisce on telling Joe about becoming a dad. Requested by this anon.

Pairings: Husband! Joe Burrow x Wife!reader

Requested: Yes | No

Warnings: pregnancy announcement, minor dirty talk alluding to smut

Note: HI! I'm so sorry that this is so late. I got some writer's block towards the end so I hope I still did your idea justice anon! Hoping to be back to posting more regularly with some requests and other works in progress. Enjoy for now!

Word Count: 2.6k

Check out my Masterlist here!

Taglist: @burrowbarbie @definitelynotdomanique @one-sweet-gubler @plushkhiii @enchantedinfinity @iosivb9 @hellsingalucard18 @hotburreaux @lilfreakjez @jburrgf Feel free to comment or message me if you'd like to be added to the list!

After a long day of running around Disney and basking in the joy of baby number 2, you were all back at your hotel. You couldn't have asked for a better day, catching Joe’s gaze from time to time as he had a hard time taking his eyes off of your son’s hat embroidered with the words ‘big brother’. You found it hard to keep your own composure all day, feeling a massive weight lifted from your shoulders now that the secret was out. The day went by in a flash and before you knew it, you were walking out the gates, your son falling asleep in your arms as you made your way to the car.                                                                                                                                            

You were all showered, finally laying in bed when Joe came back into your room from getting your son settled for the night in the connected suite. You were grateful he took the job on tonight, your legs feeling like jello from all of the walking you had done. You were no athlete and running after a toddler was no joke. He crept in, closing the door quietly behind him to not disturb you. He shot you a small smile before slipping his t-shirt over his head. Your heart swelled at the sight of him, feeling so full of joy and the small family you were creating together. He came over to you, placing a soft kiss to the top of your head. 

“Out like a light,” Joe said, emphasizing his words with a gesture of his hands.

You giggled, his hand stroking lightly against your head. You let your eyes close softly, enjoying the moment. You sighed softly when Joe slipped his hand from your hair.

“I’m gonna take a quick shower and I’ll hop into bed with you,” Joe said, his voice low and tired.

“Okay, I could use some more of those when you get back here though,” you replied with a similar tone.

He kissed your lips gently before leaning further to place a kiss to your stomach. As if your heart couldn’t get any fuller, the sight before made it explode with love. Joe was such an amazing dad, like you knew he would be.

“I can’t believe we're gonna have another one, it feels like just yesterday you told me the first time.”

“I had a bit of prep time for that one, I had to get really creative this time since someone would get suspicious otherwise,” you joked, knowing how nosey Joe could be.

Joe laughed lightly as he walked towards the bathroom, “always keeping me on my toes huh?”

“Just doing my job” you said with a laugh, shaking your head.

While Joe was showering, your mind drifted back to that day that you told Joe he was going to be a dad.

Flashback

It was yours and Joe’s first Valentines together as a married couple and you planned to make it a memorable one. You’d spent a lazy morning together, basking in each other's touch with all of the time in the world. Some remained innocent, others not so much. The craziness that came along with Joe’s job as well as the holiday led you both opting for a romantic night in rather than fighting against the public eye. Joe wanted to cook for you, provide you with the “restaurant experience at home, but make it with love”. He always did like to go above and beyond.

It took some convincing, but Joe agreed to go out and get the ingredients for dinner tonight. He was reluctant to leave you, but you assured him things could continue when he got home. You wanted a little time to get ready and surprise him even if you were staying in. With him out of the house to run some errands before tonight, you had a small window to get everything done that you wanted to. Little did he know you had your own surprise up your sleeve, though it wasn’t really up your sleeve literally. 

You’d been feeling sick the past few days, having a gut feeling you knew why. You and Joe weren’t necessarily trying for a kid, but you also weren’t not. You wanted it to happen when it happened. The timeline seemed to fit, your next period being late which was a rarity for you at any other given time. Joe was always aware of your cycle, being able to track things better than you ever have. If your gut instincts were correct, you’d have to find a way to tell him ASAP or he’d know something was off.

You took a few tests you had on hand and sure as shit, you were pregnant. Tears of joy immediately filled your eyes, an indescribable feeling settling deep within you as you placed your hand against your stomach. You had always wanted to be a mom and now you got to have a child with the man of your dreams. Tears spilled down your cheeks at the thought of Joe being a dad. You couldn’t wait to tell him, not that you were ever good at keeping a secret regardless. You wanted to do something special though and what better day than the cliche day all about love.

You racked your brain with how you would tell him, wanting to plan the perfect surprise. You had picked up a few possible ideas for gifts to have on hand before you made a final choice. You knew you wanted it to be after dinner, no matter how much the wait would pain you. You grabbed a small gift bag from downstairs and got to planning. 

You put the test in first, knowing he would want to see it for himself if he didn’t get to be there in the moment. You had also ordered a custom onesie with “newest Bengals fan” embroidered on it when you first found out as a possible option. You figured he would find the idea cute as well, having expressed his excitement in the past. You finished it off with a card, a usual for each important day you guys shared, the difference being you had written in it the day you found out you were pregnant.

Feeling satisfied with your gift, you tucked it away where he wouldn’t be able to find it and peek. Your next step was setting up and decorating downstairs. You cleared the table and set it with two place settings, placing a few candles in the middle of the table for some mood lighting. You laid out a few things you knew Joe would need and wanted to make thighs a bit easier for him. When you felt that everything was to your satisfaction, you headed upstairs to get ready.

You had gotten a special lingerie set for tonight, slipping the red lacy number underneath your dress. It was a dainty two piece made of satin and lace, two of Joe’s favorites. The element of surprise with these types of things always drove Joe wild, being able to tell a set was new based on feeling alone. It wouldn’t be long after that he would take your clothes off to get a look at what you had picked out just for him this time. 

You curled your hair into loose waves, applying a light bit of makeup before deeming yourself happy with how you looked. You heard the door close downstairs, signally Joe was home. You felt a pit of excitement and nerves settle in your stomach. You had to take a few deep breaths, needing to manage your composure for a little while longer, wanting to wait for after dinner. 

You padded down the stairs, taking in the few decorations Joe had added to your ensemble. There was a beautiful bouquet of flowers in the middle of the table that he had placed in your favorite vase, the candles lit that provided a warm glow to the room. The kitchen smelled amazing as he cooked dinner. You walked to meet Joe in the kitchen, his eyes flicking up from the ingredients in front of him to meet your eyes.

“You look gorgeous, sweetheart,” Joe spoke while pulling your body into his embrace. Your arms fell naturally around his neck as you took him in.

“You clean up pretty well yourself, Joey,” you said as you took in his appearance. 

He must’ve gotten ready down here while you were upstairs. He had on a white collared shirt with some black slacks. It was simple, but he could make anything look amazing. He had the sleeves of his shirt pushed up to his elbows and your thoughts turned to any, but innocent.

“Go have a seat at the table and I’ll have dinner ready soon,” Joe said sweetly with a hint of lust in his voice. 

It was as if he could read your mind, his own thoughts wandering just as much as his gaze raked up and down your body. He brought you in for a kiss, placing a soft tap on your ass before turning back to the task at hand. You obliged with no questions asked, needing to keep a bit of distance if you wanted things to go according to your plan. Joe came to join you shortly after, bringing over a delicious smelling meal. Your stomach rumbled at the sight, excited to dive in together.

Conversation at dinner remained light, catching up on each other's days and reminiscing over memories together. Soft and suggestive touches were exchanged, your hand on his forearm or his grazes to your thigh. It was nice to spend such intimate time like this together, enjoying the slowness of the offseason for once. Dinner was delicious, devouring your plates singing Joe’s praises about his cooking. You worked together to clean up, blowing out the candles on the table and bringing the dishes to the kitchen.

After clearing the table, you settled on the couch to exchange your gifts with one another. Joe tucked you into his side, his need to have you touching him in some way evident in this moment. Your heart felt like it was beating a mile a minute, hoping the flush you felt creeping up your cheeks wasn’t noticeable. 

Joe insisted that you open his gift first, grateful to not have to push for that option. It would give you a second to calm down. You took the small wrapped box from his hands, a red bow tied delicately on the top. You pulled at the end, the bow slipping undone and revealing the top of the box. 

He had gotten you a gorgeous necklace, gesturing for you to spin around to clasp the delicate chain around your neck. You took the moment to take a deep breath, knowing this would be the moment your lives would change forever. You quickly fiddled with your phone while turned, setting it up to face Joe in hopes to get his reaction.

You unwrapped yourself from Joe’s body and stood to get your bag from its hiding spot. You handed it over to him, sitting back a bit to be sure that Joe was in the frame. You had to hold your emotions back until he opened everything.

“Read the card last this time,” you said as evenly as you could manage.

Luckily Joe obliged, even though he gave you a look of confusion. He pulled the tissue paper from the top of the bag, removing the card as well. He looked down at the clothing in the bag and took it out as if you had gotten him a new shirt. He began to unfold it, even more confused when there was barely any fabric. You watched at the look of realization set into his features as he read what it said. 

He looked at you in disbelief, the small onesie clutched in his hands. Tears immediately welled up in his eyes. He looked down into the bag and saw the test, the words ‘pregnant’ standing out against the bottom of the bag. When he looked back at you, there were streaks of tears that made their way down his cheeks, his body fighting back sobs.

“Are you serious? Because this would be a horrible prank to play on me right now,” Joe said as his voice wavered.

All you could do was nod in that moment, not trusting your voice as your own tears of joy streaming down your cheeks. He moved quickly, tracking you onto the sofa in a bear hug. You both let out cries of joy at your newfound titles. The reality of it all setting in for you now that you didn’t have to keep it a secret any longer.

“Oh my god, I’m gonna be a dad,” Joe whispered out as you locked eyes together while wiped the streaks of tears from your cheeks.

“You’re also gonna be amazing Joey,” you whispered back, stroking the tears from his face.

You both laid there for a while, basking in the moment wrapped up in each other.

“I really can’t believe it. I didn’t know my love for you could get any deeper, but I feel like my heart just grew in size. You’re an incredible woman and I can’t wait for you to be the mother of my child. You’ve already made my life so much better and I couldn’t imagine doing this with anyone else. I love you so much sweetheart, just how the grass is green and the sky is blue.”

You felt a new wave of tears fall from your eyes at his confession. You felt the exact same way, unable to form a coherent sentence through the sobs that had overtaken your body once again. You gripped Joe even tighter than before if that way possible and held him close, scared this moment would be too good to be true and slip away.

He moved down your body slightly to place a kiss to your stomach as his large hands gently rubbed where your bump would soon be forming, feeling your heart clench at his tender touch. He began to whisper something into your stomach, unable to make out everything he was saying except the words ‘baby burrow’, needing to taper your emotions or you’d be crying the rest of the night. With a final kiss to your stomach, he moved his way back up to meet your gaze, resting his forehead against yours.

“We’re gonna be quite the parent huh? Cute onesie idea by the way,” Joe complimented.

“Baby’s first Bengals gear, I had to. The amount of Bengals stuff I’m gonna have to wash now will be insane. You bet your ass this baby is gonna be spoiled by all of his ‘aunts and uncles’,” you laughed, referring to Joe’s teammates and your friends.

Your laughter caught in your throat as Joe’s hands moved from your face down to your collarbone. He brushed the strap of your dress off your shoulder, taking the opportunity to peer at your new set. You felt him harden above you at the sight, a deep groan vibrating from his chest. His hand skimmed it way further down your body and slipped up the front of your dress, feeling how wet you were through the fabric of your panties.

“I’ll read the card later, right now I need you underneath me so I can show you just how happy I am,” Joe spoke in a husky tone.

He scooped you up and carried you towards the stairs, causing you to burst into a fit of laughter. Joe planned to show you how much he loved you the best way that he knew how words not doing his feelings justice. Your usual intimate celebration got a lot more meaningful tonight. You’d also have to cut that video later.

[erehsnumber1]

YESSSS JOE !!!😆😍

“Alexa play Strokin’ by Kevin Gates”

[mrs-delaney]

Hide | Chapter 13 | Viral

✨ Catch up on Hide if you’re new here! ✨ 🌟 Check out the masterlist if you want to see more by me! 🌟

pairing: joe burrow x riley carter (oc) word count: 12.7k requested: no

📝 this story is only posted on wattpad and tumblr under miss_delaney. if you see it anywhere else, it’s been stolen. 🚫 do not repost, translate, or share my work without permission. 🌻 requests: closed! 💌 want to be added to the taglist? drop a comment or message me.

📝 author’s note: dropping this chapter a little early because some stories won’t let you sleep until you get them out of your head. viral was tough to write. i kept coming back to that ache of public mess, silence, and what it feels like when everyone has an opinion except the person you need most. ⚠️ just a small heads up: this chapter contains a confrontation between riley and her ex, ethan, involving unwanted physical contact and public escalation. nothing graphic, but if that’s tough for you, take care reading. this chapter is about fallout—the kind that happens out loud and in private. it’s about what it feels like to watch strangers build a narrative out of your worst moment, and the heartbreak of missing someone you can’t quite reach. it’s about phones in pieces and the spiral of “what if.” but it’s also about the people who show up—the ones who bring snacks, coffee, comfort, and quiet company when you need it most. riley’s hurting. joe’s panicking. nobody has the right words, but the love is real. thank you for sticking with me and these messy, stubborn characters. this one’s raw and a little uncomfortable, but sometimes that’s just how life goes. i hope you find something honest in here, and maybe even a little comfort. 🌙

Taglist: @wickedfun9 @starsyoongi @amiets2 @palmettogal508 @throwaway12356123 @lilfreakjez @destinyg237

Riley's text comes through with the video attached: Missing you. Only two more weeks?

Joe clicks play and watches David Byrne performing "This Must Be the Place" in what looks like an old TV studio, standing next to a tall floor lamp. Byrne lets the lamp tip toward him, catches it gently, and sets it upright. Then does it again. And again. A simple dance with an inanimate object, but there's something mesmerizing about his careful attention to it.

Joe watches it again immediately. There's something about the way Byrne never lets the lamp actually fall, the deliberate care he gives to this one fragile thing. By the third time through, watching Byrne perform their song with such tenderness, Joe understands exactly why Riley sent it and calls her back.

"Hey lovey, did you get my text?" Riley says when she picks up.

"Just watched it three times. The way he catches it every time it tips—like he's protecting something fragile and beautiful. That's what this feels like with you."

There's a soft laugh in her voice. "You know what's crazy? Byrne said he wrote it as 'a real honest kind of love song' without all the usual clichés. No grand gestures, just... this quiet certainty."

"Dad's Sunday morning song is hitting different now. Like it means what it was always supposed to mean."

"Pancakes and vinyl and feeling at home?"

"Yeah. Except now I know what home actually feels like."

The silence stretches between them, heavy with everything they're not saying, everything they miss about being in the same room.

"God, I miss you," Riley finally says.

"Two weeks feels like forever right now."

"After this weekend, I'm all yours. Well, as much as I can be with tour prep being insane, but—"

Joe's looking at Riley's chaotic calendar on his phone while they talk. "I see you have something scheduled Saturday the 19th, but..." He squints at the screen. "Your calendar just says 'IMPORTANT DINNER - DON'T FUCK THIS UP' in all caps. So I'm guessing that's mandatory?"

Riley's laughing. "That's my very professional scheduling system, thank you very much. And, yes, unfortunately, it is very mandatory. Why?"

"A friend from college is getting married. I kind of decided last minute to go, and I wanted to see if you could break away."

There's a pause, and when Riley speaks again, her tone has shifted. "You want me to come with you? To a wedding?"

"Yeah. I know it's short notice, but... yeah. I want you there."

Riley's voice gets quieter, clearly torn. "Joe, I... God, I wish I could. We finally got this meeting with Ticketmaster. We've been trying to get in the room with them for months to talk about pricing structures, making sure our fans can actually afford tickets. It's me, the guys, Gwen, Haley, our whole team, everyone's been preparing for weeks."

Joe's understanding is immediate. "Right. No, I get it. That's huge. You can't bail on your whole team."

"I really wish I could, though. I want to meet your friends, I want to be your plus-one at things like this..."

"It's okay, Birdie. Really. This matters."

"The next wedding. Or whatever. I'll make sure I'm free."

"Deal."

"How are you feeling about tomorrow? Last preseason game."

"I'm just ready for the season to start," Joe says. "Preseason feels like... practice with an audience."

"I've been watching all the games," Riley says, her voice softer. "This will be the first season I actually care about football."

Joe feels something shift in his chest. "Yeah?"

"The Dolls are trying to talk me into starting a fantasy football team, except none of us know anything about football, so it would be based purely on vibes. Like, who has the best name or looks good in their uniform."

Joe's laughing now. "That's the worst fantasy strategy I've ever heard."

"Hey, vibes are important. I bet we'd do better than you think."

"You absolutely would not."

"Rude. I'm not asking for your help anymore."

"Good, because I wasn't planning to help."

"Well, now you're definitely not invited to our draft party."

Neither of them says it out loud, but they both feel it—how little time they'll actually have once both their careers kick into high gear, how Joe asking her to come with him, wanting her to meet his friends, feels like the kind of step forward that makes her having to say no sting more than a simple scheduling conflict should.

"How's tour prep going?" Joe asks, and Riley can hear the shift in his voice, more serious now, genuinely asking.

"Exhausting. We're rehearsing like twelve hours a day. Pete's being a perfectionist about the setlist, Andy keeps changing his guitar setup, and Daniel..." Riley pauses. "Actually, Daniel's been the only sane one, which is terrifying."

"When do you leave?"

"Three weeks after the season starts. So we'll have, what, a few scattered visits before I'm gone for two months?"

The weight of that settles between them, how little time they'll actually have before she disappears on tour.

* * *

Joe sends the text as he pulls into the venue parking lot, still humming "This Must Be the Place" under his breath. The song has been stuck in his head since Riley sent that video, and he can't shake the image of David Byrne catching that lamp every time it tips, protecting something beautiful.

Walking into the reception, he's immediately hit with the familiar chaos of former teammates reuniting. Justin Hilliard's wedding has drawn half their old Ohio State defense, and Joe can already hear someone recounting a legendary practice story from their sophomore year.

"Burrow!"

He turns to see one of his former teammates approaching with a drink. "Man, I was wondering if you'd actually show up."

"Last-minute decision," Joe says. "Couldn't miss Justin getting married."

"Where's the girl? Zac said you took them all to her show in LA. We've all been dying to meet her."

Joe takes a sip of his drink, deflecting with the ease of someone who's had this conversation before. "She's working. Big meeting she couldn't get out of."

"She real though?"

"Very real."

Joe's voice carries a certainty that makes his teammate look at him twice. Before he can ask more, someone calls his name from across the room.

"I want to hear more about this later," he says before disappearing into the crowd.

Joe finds himself smiling as he heads toward the bar, thinking about Riley explaining fantasy football based on vibes to a room full of people who've probably never heard of half the players.

* * *

Joe's halfway through his second drink when he hears a familiar voice behind him.

"Hey, stranger."

He turns to find Olivia approaching, looking genuinely happy to see him. She's wearing a soft blue dress that brings out the color of her eyes; she looks beautiful.

"Livi. Hey." Joe smiles, and it's easy. No awkwardness, just two people who used to know each other well. "You look good."

"Thanks. You, too." She signals the bartender for a wine. "I heard you might be here. Justin said you RSVPed last minute."

"Yeah, decided I needed to get out of Cincinnati for a day." He takes a sip of his drink. "How've you been?"

"Good. Really good, actually. I moved to Nashville a few months ago."

"Nashville? That's a change."

"My boyfriend's in music production. The move just made sense." She accepts her wine from the bartender. "Speaking of... I heard through the grapevine you're seeing someone. Riley Carter?"

Joe's not surprised she knows their circle is tight, and news travels fast. "Yeah. I am."

"The rock star. That's... not what I would have predicted for you," Olivia says, but she's smiling. "But you look good. Really good. Not just successful, like you're actually enjoying your life."

"I am happy." The words come out easier than Joe expected. "She's... I love her."

Olivia's face brightens. "That's wonderful, Joe. You deserve that."

Joe realizes what he just said so easily—words he hasn't even said to Riley yet. "With her, everything feels..." He pauses, searching. "Like I can stop calculating. Like, I don't have to manage every piece of my life. She... she makes me want to be present."

Olivia studies his face. "You know what? You deserve to be this happy without worrying about what everyone else thinks. I never saw you talk about anyone the way you just talked about her. Even us."

She's right, he has been worrying about what everyone thinks. His team, the media, and fans who have opinions about his personal life.

"I used to think that was just you being careful," Olivia continues. "But maybe you were just waiting for the right person to stop being careful with."

Joe looks at her, this person who knew him for years, whom he loved just differently. "You know I loved you, right? What we had was real."

"I know." Olivia's smile is gentle and understanding. "But this is different. I can hear it in your voice. See it in your face. You're not holding anything back with her."

Joe nods, feeling better. It's good to hear that from someone who knew him before, who can see the difference. "Thanks for saying that."

"Now tell me about the Nashville guy," Joe says, genuinely interested. "Music production?"

"Nick. We met on Raya, actually." Olivia laughs. "I know, I know, dating apps. But he's really great. Works with a lot of country artists, and he's got this studio in his house that's just incredible. He's been teaching me about music production and all that technical stuff I never knew anything about."

"Funny how we both ended up with musicians, in our own way," Olivia says with a smile.

"I guess we have a type we didn't know about."

"Right? And Nashville is..." She pauses, searching for words. "It feels like home in a way that Cincinnati never did. Even though I loved my time here."

Joe nods, understanding exactly what she means about finding that feeling of home.

Before he can respond, a woman with a camera approaches them. "Excuse me, would you mind if I got a quick photo?"

Joe and Olivia exchange a glance. It's innocent enough, and they are comfortable together in the way that only people who've genuinely moved on can be.

"Sure," Olivia says easily.

They pose naturally, Joe's arm around Olivia's shoulders, both of them genuinely happy. Joe is thinking about Riley and how talking to Olivia has clarified something for him, while Olivia is clearly content with her new life in Nashville. The photographer snaps a few shots.

"Perfect! Thanks so much," the photographer says before moving on to capture other moments.

The rest of the reception passes in a blur of congratulations to Justin, catching up with old teammates, and the easy rhythm of people who've known each other for years. Joe finds himself relaxed in a way he hasn't been in a long time at events like this. Usually, he's calculating how long to stay, who might be watching, and what the optics are of every conversation.

Tonight feels different. When Eli asks about Riley, Joe finds himself describing how she processes the world through music, how she's taught him that not everything needs to be planned. When another teammate jokes about meeting her, Joe realizes he's tired of compartmentalizing, tired of treating his relationship like classified information.

* * *

Joe's barely out of the parking lot when he reaches for his phone to call Riley, then remembers she's probably still at her ticketmaster dinner. He settles for sending a quick text: The Wedding was good, missing you. Call me when you're done?

The drive back to Cincinnati gives him time to think, and Olivia's words keep circling back: You deserve to be this happy without worrying about what everyone else thinks.

She's right. He's spent so much energy managing how things look, being careful about who he's seen with, when, and where. Keeping Riley compartmentalized is not because he's ashamed of her, but because he's been protecting himself. Protecting the image he's built, the careful brand of being uncontroversial.

But sitting in that reception, talking about Riley with people who've known him since before any of this shit mattered, Joe realizes he's tired of protection. He's tired of having something good, something real, and treating it like a secret that needs to be managed.

Riley's not a problem to be solved or a risk to be calculated. She's the person who makes him feel most like himself. And it's time to stop hiding that.

By the time he pulls into his driveway, Joe's made a decision. He wants to go public, not with some grand announcement or orchestrated photo op, just by living their life together without constantly looking over his shoulder.

He wants to bring her to events. Wants to stop cropping her out of his world. Wants to introduce her as his girlfriend without it feeling like he's revealing state secrets.

Joe sits in his car for a moment, engine off, thinking about Riley in that industry meeting, fighting for her fans to have affordable tickets. She's not hiding who she is or what she stands for. Maybe it's time he learned something from that.

He checks his phone one more time, but there is no response from Riley yet. She's probably still in meetings, still fighting for what she believes is right.

Tomorrow he'll call his team and tell them he's done being so careful. Tonight, he'll wait for her call and figure out how to tell the woman he loves that he's ready to love her out loud.

* * *

The private dining room at Republique is understatedly elegant, featuring exposed brick, soft lighting, and a setting where million-dollar deals are often made over wine and small plates. Riley sits across from three Ticketmaster executives, her team flanking her like a well-oiled machine. The leather-bound presentation Gwen had their team prepare sits open between them, charts and data points highlighting everything they've spent weeks perfecting.

"What we're proposing isn't radical," Riley says, leaning forward slightly. "We want to eliminate dynamic pricing entirely for our tour. Set a hard cap on face value tickets and stick to it."

The lead executive, a woman named Janet, nods thoughtfully as she flips through their proposal. "The numbers you're showing here, you're talking about leaving significant revenue on the table."

"We're willing to take that hit," Pete chimes in from Riley's right. "Our fans shouldn't have to choose between rent and seeing us live."

Andy, usually the wildcard, is completely dialed in tonight. "We've run the projections. Even with reduced ticket prices, we expect to sell out every venue. The loyalty that builds is worth more than surge pricing."

Riley watches Janet's face carefully. "Look, we know surge pricing works for you. Supply and demand, market forces, all that. But our fans aren't commodities. They're teenagers saving up from part-time jobs. They're parents who budget for months to take their kids to a show."

Daniel clears his throat. “Honestly, the numbers are clear, price caps make people happier, and there’s way less drama with customer service. Fans stick around. It works.”

Haley slides a tablet across the table, showing their social media analytics. "Rambles fans trust us because we've never treated them like ATMs. This keeps that relationship intact."

"And the bot management?" another executive asks.

"That's where we need your help," Gwen says smoothly. "Better verification systems, improved queuing technology. We're not asking you to work for free, we're asking you to work with us."

Riley can feel the energy in the room shifting. "On resale and scalpers, we want aggressive monitoring. Any ticket being sold for more than face value plus fees gets flagged immediately. We'll promote official resale only."

Janet closes the presentation and looks at her colleagues. "This is... actually more comprehensive than most artists bring us."

"Because most artists don't spend months researching every aspect of fan experience," Riley says with a slight smile. "We do our homework."

"I can see that." Janet's expression is impressed, maybe even a little surprised. "The revenue projections are conservative but realistic. And the fan retention data is compelling."

Riley feels the familiar rush of being in her element, passionate, prepared, fighting for something that matters. This is what she does best: taking care of her people.

"So what do you think?" she asks. "Can we make this work?"

Janet exchanges glances with her team before turning back to Riley. "I think we can definitely work with this framework. There are some details to iron out, but the core concept... It's doable."

Riley tries to keep her expression professional, but she can feel Pete's excitement radiating beside her. They did it. After months of preparation, they actually did it.

"That's incredible," Gwen says, speaking for all of them. "When can we expect a formal response?"

"Give us a week to run this through our systems people," Janet says. "But I'm optimistic."

As they start gathering their materials, Riley feels a deep satisfaction settling in her chest. This is exactly why she does this, not for the money or the fame, but for moments like these, where she can actually make a difference for the people who support her.

"Should we celebrate?" Haley asks, grinning. "This calls for another bottle of wine."

"Absolutely," Riley says, settling back into her chair. "We earned this."

The conversation shifts from business to celebration as they order another round and toast their success. Pete tells stories about their early days playing venues where tickets cost five dollars. Andy makes increasingly ridiculous suggestions for victory celebrations. Daniel, emboldened by wine and success, actually cracks jokes.

Riley feels loose and happy in a way she hasn't in weeks. Tour prep has been stressful, with the constant rehearsals and pressure building toward their first show. But tonight reminds her why it's all worth it, these people, this work, this ability to fight for what matters.

* * *

After the Ticketmaster executives leave with promises to follow up within the week, Riley and her team stay behind to properly celebrate. The adrenaline from the successful meeting has them all buzzing with energy.

"I can't believe they actually went for it," Pete says, shaking his head in amazement. "The whole thing caps, bot management, resale monitoring."

"Did you see Janet's face when we showed her the fan retention data?" Andy grins. "She looked like we'd just presented her with the holy grail of customer satisfaction."

Riley takes a sip of her wine, feeling genuinely proud. "Three months of research and number-crunching. Worth every spreadsheet Gwen made me review."

"Every boring conference call with data analysts," Gwen adds with a laugh.

Daniel, who’s been quietly glowing all evening, finally speaks up. “This is the kind of thing that actually makes a difference for the fans. It’s huge.”

"That's the point," Riley says simply. "We've got a platform, we might as well use it for something good."

They spend another twenty minutes rehashing the meeting, analyzing every response, getting giddy over the implications. Riley feels the warm buzz of wine and success, surrounded by people who've become family over the years of building this together.

"Alright," Gwen finally says, checking her watch. "I should head out. Early morning tomorrow."

"Same," Haley agrees. "This was amazing, though. Really amazing."

As they settle the bill and start gathering their things, Riley feels loose and happy in a way she hasn’t in weeks. She wants to hold onto this feeling when tour prep ramps up again, wants to remember that all the stress is for nights like this, moments that make the hard parts worth it.

They're walking toward the restaurant's exit, still talking and laughing, when Riley spots a familiar figure at the bar. Her stomach drops instantly.

Ethan Mills is slumped over a whiskey, clearly several drinks past his limit. His hair is disheveled, his expensive shirt wrinkled, and even from across the room, Riley can tell he's not just drunk, he's obliterated.

"Shit," she mutters under her breath.

Pete follows her gaze and immediately tenses. "Is that—"

"Yeah." Riley's mind is already calculating. Exit strategies. How to get past him without being seen. "Let's just go. Quickly."

But it's too late. Ethan's head lifts, and his unfocused eyes land directly on her. A slow, unpleasant smile spreads across his face as he slides off his barstool with the unsteady determination of someone very drunk with an agenda.

"Riley fucking Carter," Ethan calls out, loud enough that several other diners turn to look. "Look what the cat dragged in."

Riley's team immediately shifts into protective formation around her, but she puts a hand on Pete's arm. "It's fine. Let me handle this."

Ethan stumbles toward them, and the smell of whiskey hits her before he even opens his mouth again. “Word is Riley’s got herself a quarterback now. That's cute."

Riley's blood runs cold. "How do you—"

"Oh, come on, babe. You didn't get all our friends to yourself in the breakup." Ethan's words are slurred but pointed. "People talk. Even when y'all are trying to keep it quiet."

"Ethan, you need to go home," Riley says calmly, though her heart is racing. "Call someone."

"Don't tell me what to do." His voice grows louder and more aggressive. "You always think you know better than everyone else, don't you? Think you're so fucking perfect now."

Andy steps forward. "Dude, back off."

"Oh, the cavalry," Ethan sneers. "Still need your little boyfriend to fight your battles, Riley?"

"He's not my boyfriend," Riley says firmly. "And I don't need anyone to fight anything. You're drunk. Go home."

But Ethan's not done. "So what, you're too good for musicians now? Gotta upgrade to America's golden boy? Hope he likes surprises, never a dull moment with you, right?"

"That's enough," Pete cuts him off.

Riley can feel the eyes of other restaurant patrons on them now. This is exactly what she was trying to avoid: a scene, drama, the kind of spectacle that follows her around like a shadow from their toxic relationship.

"I'm leaving," she says simply, turning toward the exit.

That's when Ethan's hand shoots out and grabs her wrist, pulling her back toward him.

"Don't walk away from me," he hisses, his grip tight enough to hurt.

Riley jerks her arm free, her face flashing with anger and something that looks like fear. In that split second, with phones already recording and cameras flashing, the optics are all wrong; it seems like she's the aggressor, as if she pushed him, as if she's the one causing problems.

"Don't ever touch me again," she says, her voice shaking with fury.

But the damage is already done. The photos are already taken. And by tomorrow morning, the headlines will paint her as the unstable ex attacking her former boyfriend at an upscale restaurant.

Riley doesn't know this yet. Right now, she's just trying to get her team safely out of a restaurant while her hands shake with adrenaline and her ex-boyfriend calls after her with increasingly nasty comments about her life, her choices, and the quarterback she's supposedly not good enough for.

* * *

Riley's hands are still shaking as she slides into the passenger seat of Pete's car. The others have scattered to their own rides, but Pete insisted on driving her home, and she's grateful for it. She doesn't trust herself behind the wheel right now.

"What the fuck was that?" she breathes, running her fingers through her hair. "How does he know about Joe? We've been so careful."

Pete starts the engine, his jaw tight with anger. "Ethan's always been a piece of shit, but that was next level. Grabbing you like that—"

"The photos," Riley interrupts, the reality hitting her. "Pete, there were people filming. This is going to be everywhere."

"Hey." Pete reaches over and squeezes her shoulder. "We'll figure it out. Call Joe. He can help you process this."

Riley nods, pulling out her phone with trembling fingers. She needs to hear his voice, needs him to tell her it's going to be okay, that they'll figure this out together.

The phone rings once, twice, three times. Straight to voicemail.

"He's not answering," she says, trying again immediately. Same result.

"Try one more time," Pete suggests gently.

Third call. Still nothing.

Riley stares at her phone, feeling something crack open in her chest. She knows he's probably just asleep, probably had a long day at the wedding, but right now it feels like abandonment. Like when she needs him most, he's not there.

"He's probably just—" Pete starts.

"I know," Riley cuts him off, but her voice wavers. "I know he's probably asleep. It's just... fuck, Pete. Everything was going so well tonight. The meeting was perfect, we were celebrating, and then Ethan just..."

"Ruined it. Like he always does."

Riley leans her head back against the headrest, closing her eyes. "He knows about Joe. Which means other people know. Which means we're not as private as we thought."

"That doesn't change anything though, right? You and Joe, you're solid."

"Are we?" The words slip out before Riley can stop them. "I mean, yeah, we are. But this... this is exactly what he's been worried about. Drama, headlines, his image getting dragged into my mess."

Pete pulls into Riley's driveway and turns off the engine. "Riles, this isn't your mess. This is Ethan being a drunk asshole. Joe will understand that."

Riley wants to believe that, but something cold is settling in her stomach. She keeps thinking about Joe's careful nature, his team's concerns, how hard they've worked to keep their relationship private.

"I'm staying tonight," Pete says, not making it a question. "Daniel and Andy are worried sick, and honestly, so am I. You shouldn't be alone right now."

"You don't have to—"

"I'm staying," Pete repeats firmly. "We'll make some tea, watch terrible movies, and tomorrow we'll deal with whatever fallout comes from tonight. But right now, you need someone here."

Riley nods, grateful beyond words for Pete's steady presence. "I love you, you know that?" she says quietly.

"Love you too, Riles."

As they walk toward her front door, she tries Joe's number one more time.

Still nothing.

* * *

Riley curls up on her couch with a mug of chamomile tea that's gone cold in her hands. Pete's in the kitchen, puttering around and giving her space to breathe, but she can feel his worried energy from across the room.

Her phone sits face down on the coffee table, but she can't stop herself from picking it up every few minutes to check if Joe has called back. Each time, nothing.

"Stop torturing yourself," Pete says gently, taking the chair across from her. "It's midnight here, but it's, what, three in Cincinnati? He's definitely drooling on his pillow by now."

"I know." Riley takes a shaky sip of tea. "I just... I needed to hear his voice tonight, you know? After everything with Ethan."

"Want to try again?"

Riley shakes her head. Three missed calls are enough. More than enough. She doesn't want to seem desperate, even though that's exactly how she feels.

"Let's see if anything's posted yet," she says, reaching for her phone.

"Riles, no. That's a terrible idea."

But she's already opening Instagram, searching for any mention of her name or the restaurant. It doesn't take long.

The first video appears on a gossip account with 2.3 million followers. The caption reads: "Riley Carter's restaurant meltdown - is the rock star back to her old ways?"

Riley's heart sinks as she watches grainy phone footage of the moment Ethan grabbed her wrist. Out of context, it appears that she's pushing him, making her seem like the aggressor. The angle completely misses Ethan's grip on her arm, completely misses his drunken state.

"Oh god," she whispers.

Pete moves to sit beside her on the couch. "Let me see."

More posts are appearing by the minute. Twitter is already exploding with speculation. #RileyCarterMeltdown is trending. The comments are brutal:

"Same old Riley, different day"

"Thought she cleaned up her act"

"Poor Ethan, he looked scared"

"Rock stars never change"

"Turn it off," Pete says firmly. "None of these people were there. None of them knows what actually happened."

But Riley keeps scrolling, unable to stop herself. Each new post feels like a punch to the gut. The narrative is already set: troubled rock star attacks ex-boyfriend at upscale restaurant. The fact that Ethan was blackout drunk doesn't matter. The fact that he grabbed her first doesn't matter.

"I should call Gwen," she mumbles.

"It's midnight, Riles. Call her tomorrow."

"This is going to be everywhere by tomorrow. Joe's going to see this and think—"

"Joe's going to see this and understand that your drunk ex ambushed you," Pete interrupts. "Because he knows you."

Riley wants to believe that, but she keeps thinking about all their conversations about being careful, about his image, about how they've worked so hard to keep their relationship private. And now this is exactly the kind of drama he's been worried about.

She opens Twitter again, searching for any mention of Joe. That's when she sees it: a photo from the wedding, posted by someone named Amy with the caption "Great seeing old friends tonight! ❤️ @justinhilliard's wedding was perfect!"

In the photo, Joe has his arm around a beautiful woman with dark blonde hair and light highlights. They both look relaxed, happy, and comfortable. Riley's stomach drops as she recognizes Olivia from Google searches she's done in weaker moments.

"Who's that?" Pete asks, looking over her shoulder.

"His ex," Riley says quietly. "Olivia."

They look so natural together, so easy. While Riley was getting ambushed by her toxic ex, Joe was posing for photos with his. The contrast feels devastating.

"It's just a picture, Riles. Doesn't mean anything."

Riley nods, but her throat feels tight. She knows it doesn't mean anything romantic, but right now, seeing Joe looking that comfortable with someone else while she's falling apart, it feels like everything.

Her phone buzzes with a text from Andy: Saw the videos. Are you okay? Want me to come over?

Then Daniel: This is bullshit. Everyone knows you're not like that anymore.

Then her mom said, 'Baby, I saw the news.' Call me.

Riley turns her phone face down again, feeling overwhelmed. "I can't deal with all of this tonight."

"Then don't," Pete says simply. "We'll watch something mindless until you fall asleep, and tomorrow we'll figure out how to handle it."

But as Pete scrolls through Netflix options, Riley can't shake the image of Joe and Olivia looking so perfectly at ease together. Can't stop thinking about how this night started with such a victory and ended with everything falling apart.

* * *

Joe wakes up at 9:23 AM feeling better than he has in weeks. The wedding, the conversation with Olivia, and his decision about going public with Riley —everything feels clear in the morning light. He's ready to stop hiding, ready to bring Riley into his world properly.

He reaches for his phone to text her good morning and sees seventeen missed calls.

His stomach drops immediately. Seventeen missed calls before 7 AM means a crisis.

The first call back is to Mark, his agent, who answers before the second ring.

"Jesus, Joe, finally. We've been trying to reach you for hours."

"What's wrong?" Joe sits up in bed, fully awake now.

"Have you seen the headlines? About Riley?"

Joe's blood goes cold. "What headlines?"

"Check your texts. I'm sending you links now."

Joe opens the first link Mark sends:

"Riley Carter's Restaurant Meltdown: Rock Star Attacks Ex at Upscale LA Eatery"

The photo shows Riley with her arm extended toward Ethan, her face twisted in anger. Out of context, it appears exactly as the headline suggests: an unprovoked attack.

"This is everywhere, Joe," Mark continues. "TMZ, People, Entertainment Tonight. The video's been viewed three million times since last night."

Joe scrolls through more headlines: "Troubled Rock Star Riley Carter Back to Old Ways," "Riley Carter's Violent Outburst Caught on Camera," "Is Riley Carter Spiraling Again?"

"Shit," Joe breathes.

"It gets worse. People are already asking what you think about this. Twitter's blowing up with questions about whether you're going to comment, whether you're still together. Your mentions are a mess."

Joe's phone buzzes with another call, Bill, his publicist.

"I need to take this," Joe tells Mark.

"Joe, thank God," Bill says the moment Joe answers. "We need to talk about damage control. This Riley situation is about to become your Riley situation."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, social media is already speculating about your connection to her. And with your season starting, we cannot afford to have your name tied to this kind of drama."

Joe stares at the photos on his laptop screen. Riley looks unhinged and aggressive. Nothing like the woman who sent him that David Byrne video yesterday, nothing like the person who fights for her fans' affordable tickets.

"Have you talked to her?" Bill asks.

"No, I—I just woke up."

"Good. Could you not call her back yet? We need to discuss strategy first."

"Strategy?"

"Joe, this is exactly what we've been worried about with this relationship. Her past and reputation were always going to be a liability. And now it's playing out in real time."

Joe feels something cold settling in his chest. Yesterday, he was ready to go public, ready to stop caring what people thought. Today, faced with actual consequences, he's not sure.

"This is exactly what we've been worried about," Bill continues. "Her past is catching up, and now you're getting pulled into it. Every story about this is going to mention you by the third paragraph."

Joe looks at his phone and sees three missed calls from Riley from late last night. She was trying to reach him while this was happening, while her world was falling apart, and he was sleeping off wedding champagne.

"What are you suggesting?" Joe asks, though he's afraid he already knows.

"You need to be extra careful now. No comments, if anyone asks. Definitely no being seen together until this dies down. And Joe? Is this relationship worth this?"

Joe stares at the headlines again. The photos. The comments calling Riley unstable, violent, and a mess. Part of him knows there has to be more to the story. Riley doesn't start fights, doesn't attack people. But the evidence is right there on his screen, and his team's panic is infectious.

"I need to think," he says.

"Don't think too long," Mark chimes in, having joined the call. "Every hour this story grows, it gets harder to stay out of it."

After Joe hangs up, he sits in his bed staring at Riley's missed calls. Yesterday, he was ready to tell her he loved her, ready to stop hiding their relationship. Today, looking at these headlines, all he can think about is protecting himself.

He doesn't call her back. Not yet. First, he needs to figure out how to handle this without destroying everything he's built.

* * *

Joe stares at his phone for another ten minutes before finally calling Riley back. It's nearly 10 AM, and she tried to reach him at midnight. Realizing how long she's been dealing with this alone makes him sick with guilt.

She picks up on the first ring.

"Joe." Her voice is raw and exhausted, as if she's been crying.

"Hey. I'm sorry I missed your calls. I saw the headlines this morning and—"

"You saw the headlines before you called me back." It's not a question.

Joe pauses, realizing how that sounds. "My team called. They were panicking about—"

"About how this looks for you."

"Riley, what happened? The photos... they're saying you attacked Ethan."

Riley takes a shaky breath. "I didn't attack anyone. He was drunk out of his mind, Joe. Like, blackout drunk. He came up to us after our meeting and started saying things about you and about us. When I tried to leave, he grabbed my wrist."

"He grabbed you?"

"Yeah. And when I pulled away, that's when someone took the photo. It looks like I'm pushing him, but I was trying to get his hands off me."

Joe can hear the exhaustion in her voice, the hurt. "Are you okay?"

"No, I'm not okay! I've been watching this story explode all night. People are calling me unstable and violent. They're saying I'm back to my old ways." Her voice cracks. "And the worst part? Ethan knew about us. He said people talk, that we weren't as private as we thought."

Joe feels that familiar clench of anxiety. "What exactly did he say?"

"Does it matter? The point is our relationship isn't as secret as we hoped, and now I'm a PR nightmare for you."

"That's not—"

"Isn't it?" Riley's voice gets sharper. "Joe, I needed you last night. I was falling apart, and I called you three times, and you were... where were you?"

"I was asleep. I didn't know—"

"You were at a wedding. With Olivia."

Joe's stomach drops. "Riley—"

"I saw the photo. You two looked really comfortable."

"It was completely innocent. We just talked, caught up. She's seeing someone, she moved to Nashville—"

"While I was getting ambushed by my drunk ex, you were posing for pictures with yours."

"That's not fair."

"Fair?" Riley's voice rises. "You want to talk about fair? I got attacked last night, had cameras shoved in my face, and when I call you for support, you're too busy to answer."

"Riley, I'm sorry. I should have answered. But right now, with everything that's happening—"

"What? What about right now?"

Joe takes a breath, and he can hear his team's voices in his head. "We need to be more careful."

The silence that follows is deafening.

"More careful," Riley repeats slowly. "More careful than what, Joe? More careful than never going anywhere together? More careful than me having to crop you out of every photo?"

"Just until this blows over—"

"There it is." Riley's voice has gone cold. "Until this blows over. Until I stop being an embarrassment to your image."

"That's not what I meant."

"Yes, it is. I know this is the part where you say you panicked, you didn't know what the fuck to do, it all looked bad. I get it. But not once was it because I was ashamed of you."

"I know that—"

"Do you? Because it sounds like you're more worried about how this affects your precious reputation than about the fact that your girlfriend got grabbed by her drunk ex."

"Riley, you know that's not—"

"What I know is that when push comes to shove, I'm the problem you need to manage. Not the person you want to protect."

Joe feels everything spiraling. "I'm trying to protect us—"

"No, you're trying to protect yourself. There's a difference."

"Riley, can you just—"

"What? Can I just what? Disappear until I'm convenient again? Make myself smaller so you don't have to worry about how it looks?"

"That's not what I'm asking—"

"Yeah, it is."

The line goes quiet except for the sound of Riley's uneven breathing.

"I can't do this," she says finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Riley, wait—"

But the line's already dead.

Joe stares at his phone, the silence echoing in his ears. The quiet lasts maybe five seconds before panic sets in.

He calls back immediately. It rings four times, then goes to voicemail. He hangs up and tries again.—Same result.

"Riley, please pick up," he says after the third attempt goes to voicemail. "I know I fucked that up... please call me back."

Fourth call. Fifth. Sixth.

By the seventh call, it goes straight to voicemail without ringing. She's turned her phone off.

Joe sits in his kitchen, his phone silent in his hands, and knows that somewhere across the country, Riley is doing exactly what he would do protecting herself from more damage. The difference is, this time, he's the one causing it.

* * *

Joe rubs his face with his hands, replaying the conversation. Riley's voice when she said his name—raw, exhausted, like she'd been holding her breath all night waiting for him to call. And his first response wasn't to ask if she was okay, wasn't to tell her he was sorry she went through that alone. It was to mention the headlines.

You saw the headlines before you called me back.

She was right. He had seen them first. He had let Mark and Bill get into his head, had let their panic become his own. By the time he called her, he wasn't calling as her boyfriend who was worried about her, he was calling as someone who needed to manage a crisis.

The photos flash through his mind again. Riley looks angry and aggressive. Ethan looked startled, almost afraid. Joe knows Riley knows she doesn't start fights, doesn't attack people. In all the time he's known her, she's never violently lost her cool. She gets passionate, sure, but not aggressive.

But if he’s honest, looking at those headlines, he let himself believe it for longer than he should have. Or at least, he acted like he did.

I needed you last night.

That's him. While he was sleeping off wedding champagne, feeling good about his decision to go public, Riley was getting ambushed by her drunk ex. She was dealing with cameras and questions and her past being weaponized against her, and she'd had him. Three times.

And he'd be unreachable.

Joe thinks about the David Byrne video she'd seen just yesterday. The way she said she missed him. The conversation about their song, about home, about love that doesn't have to be justified to anyone else. How had he gone from that to "we need" to be more careful in less than twenty-four hours?

His team. Is this relationship worth it?

Bill's question sits like a stone in his chest. Three hours ago, Joe would have said yes without hesitation. Riley was worth it; he was worth the media attention, worth the complications, worth people having opinions about his personal life. She made him feel like himself in a way he'd never experienced before.

But when faced with actual consequences, actual headlines, and actual crises, he'd falter.

Joe gets up and walks to his living room, surveying his perfectly organized, impersonal space. Everything in its place, everything carefully curated. Before Riley, this house felt like enough: clean lines, no drama, no mess to manage.

Now it just feels empty.

He thinks about Riley’s in New Orleans, how every room feels lived in, every corner full of music and memories. The records stacked by the window, the mismatched mugs, the way it felt like home the moment he walked in.

While I was getting ambushed by my drunk ex, you were posing for pictures with yours.

The photo with Olivia. Joe pulls it up on his phone, him and Olivia smiling, his arm around her shoulders. They do look comfortable. Happy. Like two people who don't care about the world.

Meanwhile, Riley was fighting off her toxic ex and getting photographed at her worst moment.

The contrast is devastating when he really thinks about it. Olivia, who he'd told he loved Riley before ever telling Riley. Olivia, who'd encouraged him to stop worrying about what other people think. And there he was, twelve hours later, telling Riley they needed to be more careful because of what other people might think.

Joe drops onto the couch, the same spot where Riley had curled up against him just weeks ago, talking about her grandfather, her music, her fears about trusting someone new. She'd be vulnerable with him in ways she probably hadn't with anyone since Ethan destroyed her trust.

And this morning, he'd proved that trust was misplaced.

When push comes to shove, I'm the one you need to manage.

That's what she'd said, and Joe had denied it. But sitting here now, he realizes she was exactly right. The moment things got complicated, his instinct wasn't to protect her—it was to protect himself. To distance himself. To treat her like a liability instead of the person who'd made him happier than he'd ever been.

His phone sits silent on the coffee table. Part of him wants to call her back again, to try to apologize once more, to explain that he panicked and said all the wrong things. But he can hear the finality in her voice when she says she can't do this. Can see the pattern they've just fallen into—him pulling back every time external pressure mounts.

The worst part is that his team was probably right about the practical stuff. This will be a headache. There will be more headlines, more questions, more people having opinions about his personal life. Dating Riley Carter was never going to be simple.

But yesterday, sitting in his car after the wedding, he'd been ready for complicated. Ready to figure it out together instead of trying to solve it by keeping her at arm's length.

Now he's here, he gets another chance to choose differently.

Joe looks around his empty house and realizes that for all his talk about being careful, he might have just made the most careless mistake of his life.

The silence stretches on, and for the first time in years, Joe Burrow doesn't know how to fix what he's been. Worse, he's not sure he deserves the chance to try.

He'd told Olivia yesterday that he loved Riley. Said it so easily, so naturally, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. And less than twenty-four hours later, when Riley needed him to prove that love meant something, he'd failed completely.

The irony isn't lost on him—he'd spent his whole career learning from mistakes, adjusting, getting better. But with Riley, every time it mattered, he kept fucking up.

* * *

Riley sits on her couch, phone clutched in her shaking hands, trying to process what just happened. The conversation replays in her head on a loop—Joe's careful tone, his measured responses, the way he said "we need to be more careful" like she was a problem to be solved.

Her phone starts ringing again. Joe's name lights up the screen.

She doesn't answer.

It rings again. And again.

"Riley?" Pete calls from the kitchen, where he's been giving her space but clearly listening. "You okay?"

She's not okay. She's the furthest thing from okay. The phone keeps ringing—fourth call, fifth call—and with each buzz, something inside her breaks a little more.

By the sixth call, Riley can't take it anymore. She sees Joe's name appear again and something snaps.

Riley hurls the phone across the room.

It hits the brick wall next to her fireplace with a sickening crack. The screen goes black immediately, pieces of glass scattering across her hardwood floor.

The sudden silence is deafening.

“Riley!” Pete rushes in from the kitchen and takes in the scene—Riley hunched on the couch, her phone shattered against the wall, glass glinting on the floor.

"I broke it," she says through tears, staring at the wreckage. "I broke my phone."

"Okay," Pete says gently, sitting beside her on the couch. "We can get you a new phone."

"He kept calling." Riley's voice is barely above a whisper. "After telling me we need to be more careful, after basically saying I'm too much drama for his perfect life, he kept calling like that would fix it."

Pete carefully steps around the glass to examine the phone. The screen is completely shattered, and the device is bent at an unnatural angle. "Yeah, this is definitely dead."

Riley lets out a sharp, humorless laugh. “Perfect. Add it to the list, right?”

"Hey." Pete sits back down, his voice serious. "Talk to me. What did he say?"

Riley pulls her knees to her chest, making herself small. "He said we need to be more careful. Like we haven't been careful enough already. Like I haven't been hiding in the shadows of his life for months."

"And?"

"And I told him the truth. That when it matters, I'm just a problem he needs to manage." Riley's voice cracks. "He didn't even deny it, Pete. He just... he didn't deny it."

Pete is quiet for a moment, processing. "Maybe he was just scared. People say stupid things when they're scared."

"No." Riley shakes her head. "This wasn't scared. This was calculated. This was him choosing his image over me."

She thinks about last night—how confident she'd felt after the Ticketmaster meeting, how proud she'd been of fighting for her fans. How quickly it all turned to shit when Ethan showed up with his poison and his cameras.

"I called him three times last night," she continues. "Three times, Pete. And he was off taking cozy photos with his ex-girlfriend."

"You don't know that's what—"

"I saw the photo. They looked..." Riley struggles for the word. "Happy. Comfortable. Like two people who don't have to worry about being 'too careful' with each other."

Pete shakes his head. “It’s just a picture, Riles. Doesn’t mean anything.”

But Riley barely hears him.

“I’m such an idiot,” Riley says, burying her face in her hands. “I really thought he was different. I thought he saw past all the stories, past everything people think I am. I thought he actually saw me.”

"He does see you—"

“No, he doesn’t. Because if he understood me, he’d know I’d never start something like that. He’d know Ethan was the one who grabbed me. He’d know I needed him last night, and he wasn’t there.”

Riley looks at the shattered phone again, at the pieces of glass scattered across her floor. It feels symbolic somehow—the destruction of connection, of hope, of the carefully constructed bridge she'd built between her chaotic world and his ordered one.

"What am I supposed to do now?" she asks quietly.

Pete follows her gaze to the broken phone. "First, we clean this up. Then we get you a new phone. Then..."

"Then what?"

"Then we figure out how to get through this without him."

The words hit Riley like a physical blow. Without him. The thought of going back to her life before Joe—before someone who made her feel seen and valued and worth protecting—feels impossible.

But sitting here, surrounded by the debris of her broken phone and her broken trust, Riley realizes she might not have a choice.

"I can't keep doing this," she whispers. "I can't keep being someone's secret. I can't keep pretending it doesn't hurt when the person I love chooses everyone else's opinion over me."

Pete reaches over and squeezes her hand. "Then don't."

Riley nods, but inside, something fundamental has shifted. The walls she'd slowly let down for Joe are rebuilding themselves, brick by brick. And this time, she's not sure anyone will be able to break through them again.

* * *

Pete looks at Riley crying on the couch, then at the shattered phone, then back at Riley. In all the years he's known her—through the worst of the Ethan days, through panic attacks before big shows, through family drama and industry bullshit—he's never seen her this broken.

"Come on," he says gently, standing up and extending his hand. "Let's get you outside. You love it out there by the pool."

Riley doesn't move. "I don't want to—"

"I know. But you need air, and I need to make some calls." Pete's voice is firm but kind. "Trust me."

She lets him pull her up from the couch, and he guides her through the sliding glass doors to the backyard. The pool sparkles in the late morning sun, lounge chairs lined up under the wide sky, the sound of water trickling from the small fountain she installed last year. Usually, this is her sanctuary. Today, it just feels like another place where she’s alone.

Pete settles her into her favorite chair, the one with the soft cushions that she always curls up in when they're writing songs out here. "Stay put. I'll be right back."

Riley nods, pulling her knees to her chest and staring at the water.

Pete goes back inside and pulls out his own phone. First call: Haley.

“Pete? What’s wrong?” Haley answers immediately, her voice a little panicked.

"Riley needs us. Can you get over here?"

“Is this about the Ethan thing? I saw the videos—I’ve been trying to call her all morning.”

"It's about Joe. He fucked up. Bad. And Riley's..." Pete looks out at her through the glass doors. "She's not okay."

"I'm already getting dressed. Twenty minutes."

Next call: Daniel.

"Everything alright?" Daniel's voice is groggy—he was still asleep.

"Riley needs you here. Now."

The grogginess disappears instantly. "On my way."

Andy answers before Pete even hears it ring. "Dude, I've been watching Twitter all night. How bad is it?"

"Worse than the internet knows. Get here."

"Fuck. Yeah, I'm coming."

Last call: Laura.

"Pete? What's up?"

"Riley needs you. Joe broke her heart, and she broke her phone, and I need all hands on deck."

Laura doesn't hesitate. "I'll stop and get coffee on the way. The good stuff from that place she likes."

Pete pockets his phone and looks out at Riley through the glass doors. She's still curled up in the chair, staring at the water. Before going back outside, he opens his messages and finds Joe's contact.

Dude what the fuck. I've been in your corner this whole time. What are you doing?

The response comes faster than Pete expected.

I fucked up. Is she okay?

No, she's not okay. She threw her phone at the wall and broke it. She's crying her eyes out.

I've been trying to call her back

Well, you can stop now because her phone is in pieces

Pete, I know how this looks, but I panicked. My team was freaking out about the headlines

So you chose your team over her?

The typing bubbles appear and disappear several times before Joe's response comes through.

I don't know. Maybe. I wasn't thinking straight.

Joe, she needed you last night. She called you three times after Ethan ambushed her, and you didn't answer.

I was asleep. I didn't know what happened until this morning

And your first instinct was damage control instead of making sure she was okay

You're right.

She loves you, you know that, right? And you just told her she’s too much trouble for your perfect life.

That's not what I meant

But that's what you said. That's what she heard.

Another long pause before Joe responds.

How do I fix this?

Pete looks out at Riley, still staring at the water, and types back:

I honestly don't know if you can.

He puts his phone away and goes back outside. Whatever Joe's response might be, Pete doesn't want to see it right now. His focus needs to be on Riley.

"They're all coming," he says, settling into the chair next to her.

"You didn't have to—"

"Yes, I did." Pete's voice is matter-of-fact. "This is what we do. When one of us is hurting, we show up."

Riley looks at him, and for the first time since the phone call, her expression softens slightly. "I don't know what I'd do without you guys."

"You'll never have to find out."

They sit in comfortable silence, the quiet broken only by the fountain and the distant sound of wind moving through the canyon. Pete knows Riley well enough to know she’s replaying the conversation with Joe, picking apart every word, every pause, every implication.

"Want to talk about what he said?" Pete asks finally.

Riley shakes her head. "I want to wait until everyone's here. I only want to say it once."

Pete nods. "Fair enough."

"Pete?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you. For staying. For calling everyone. For..." She gestures vaguely. "For knowing what I need before I do."

"That's what family does."

Riley's eyes fill with tears again, but these feel different. Not the desperate, betrayed tears from earlier, but something softer. Grateful.

"I love you guys so much," she whispers.

"We love you, too. And we're going to get you through this."

Pete means it. He's watched Riley survive worse than Joe Burrow. She's stronger than she knows, even if she can't see it right now.

But as he sits there watching her stare at the water, Pete can't shake the feeling that this particular heartbreak might take longer to heal than the others. Because this time, Riley had actually let herself believe it might be different.

* * *

Haley arrives first, twenty minutes after Pete’s call, with that focused expression she gets when there’s a crisis to manage.

"She still outside?" Haley asks, not bothering with pleasantries.

"Yeah. By the pool."

Haley nods and heads straight out, settling into the chair next to Riley. She pulls out her phone and starts scrolling through something work-related, creating a quiet presence without trying to force conversation.

Daniel shows up next, looking like he rolled out of bed and grabbed the first clothes he could find. His hair is going in three different directions.

"Brought snacks," he says, holding up a bag of gas station junk food. "And these." He sets down a case of White Claws.

Andy steps inside, worry written all over his face. “Okay, what’s going on? Pete sounded serious.”

Laura walks in last, carrying the good coffee from that place Riley likes and a small pharmacy bag. "Figured she might need caffeine and Advil," she says practically. "Where is she?"

They end up by the pool, everyone grabbing chairs or settling on the ground. Andy immediately cracks open a White Claw and offers one to Riley, who shakes her head. Daniel sprawls in a chair and closes his eyes. Laura distributes coffee. Haley stays close beside Riley, scrolling through her phone.

It's Riley who finally breaks the silence.

"Joe told me we needed to be more careful," she says to the water. "After Ethan grabbed me last night, the photos made it look like I attacked him."

The fidgeting stops. Everyone's attention shifts to Riley, but nobody jumps in with questions or outrage.

"More careful how?" Haley asks.

Riley explains the phone call, Joe's team's panic, and his suggestion that they lay low until things blow over. Her friends listen without interrupting, letting her get it all out.

"So I hung up on him," Riley finishes. "And then he kept calling, and I threw my phone at the wall."

Andy speaks first. "Good. The hanging-up part, not the phone-breaking part. That was expensive."

"Andy," Daniel says.

"What? I'm proud of her for hanging up. That was some weak-ass bullshit from him."

Pete looks around the group. “Her phone’s done for—smashed it after he kept calling.”

Laura nods. “So it’s not like she can talk to him, even if she wanted to.”

Riley just shakes her head. “Doesn’t matter. I wouldn’t know what to say to him anyway.”

"How about 'go fuck yourself'?" Andy suggests helpfully.

"Or nothing," Haley says. "You don't owe him anything right now."

They spend the next few hours just existing in Riley’s space. Andy reorganizes her outdoor speakers and starts playing music. Daniel helps Haley clean up the glass from Riley’s broken phone, moving quietly. Laura forces everyone to eat the sandwiches she ordered, and Haley keeps Riley close.

No one tries to solve anything or offers advice about what Riley should do next. They just stay, filling her house with the familiar chaos of people who know how to be around each other.

After Pete texts Papa to let him know Riley’s phone is out of commission, it only takes a few hours for her mom to call Pete’s phone, worried. Word travels fast in Riley’s family. Pete hands off the call, and Riley finds herself retelling the story to someone who’s already planning a trip to Cincinnati to “have words” with Joe Burrow.

"Mom, no," Riley says. "I can handle this."

"I know you can, baby. But you shouldn't have to."

After she hangs up, Riley looks around at her friends scattered across her backyard and feels something loosen in her chest. Not better, exactly, but steadier.

"Seriously thanks for coming," she says. "All of you."

"Where else would we be?" Daniel asks, like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

* * *

Riley sits cross-legged on her bedroom floor at 2:47 AM, acoustic guitar balanced on her lap, surrounded by crumpled pieces of paper. Her friends left hours ago, but Pete's asleep in the guest room down the hall. The house is quiet except for the occasional creak of settling wood, too full of thoughts she can't shut off.

She strums a chord progression she's been picking at for the past hour—something haunting and raw that matches the ache in her chest. The melody feels familiar, like it's been waiting inside her since that phone call with Joe.

Mmm, mmm, mmm

She hums softly, testing the sound. Sometimes songs start with nothing but a feeling, a vibration that needs to find words.

Riley's fingers move across the strings, and fragments start coming:

Everyone says I look happy...

She stops, shakes her head. That's not quite right. She tries again:

The more that you give, the less that I need...

She scribbles lines in her notebook, crossing out, rewriting. The melody pulls her toward something rawer, more honest:

'Cause they say that misery loves company It's not your fault I ruin everything And it's not your fault I can't be what you need

Her voice cracks on the last line. This is the part that hurts most—not that Joe was wrong, but that maybe she really is too much. Too complicated, too messy, too likely to bring chaos into someone's carefully ordered life.

Baby, angels like you can't fly down hell with me

She stops playing, staring at the words she's just written. The line came from nowhere, but it fits. It's about the distance between them—not just physical, but fundamental.

I'm everything they said I would be

Riley plays the line again, feeling the weight of it. Simple words, but they carry everything—all the ways she's been labeled, all the expectations she's lived up to whether she wanted to or not.

She keeps working, the words coming easier now:

I'll put you down slow, love you goodbye Before you let go, just one more time

It's about the inevitable ending she can see coming. The way loving her always seems to hurt the people who try. The way she's learned to protect herself by leaving first.

A little more hurt won't kill you Tonight

The words feel like confession and accusation rolled into one. Like admitting she knows she's poison while daring someone to love her anyway.

Riley writes until her fingertips are sore from the steel strings, until the notebook page is covered in lyrics that tell the truth about being the kind of person who breaks things just by existing in them. The song isn't finished—songs like this never really are—but the core is there. The raw honesty of knowing you're someone's biggest mistake.

By the time she finally sets the guitar aside, dawn is creeping through her windows. Her fingers ache and her voice is hoarse from singing the same phrases over and over.

Riley climbs into bed, leaving the notebook open on her nightstand. The pages are covered in her messy handwriting—crossed-out lines, fragments, half-formed thoughts that might become something real.

She closes her eyes and for the first time in days, the silence doesn't feel heavy. The song isn't finished, might not ever be, but it's hers. Her truth, her pain, her choice about what to do with both.

Sleep comes easier than it has since that phone call, dreamless and deep.

* * *

Saturday, 11:47 PM Can we talk?

Sunday, 7:23 AM Riley

Sunday, 10:15 AM I saw the actual video. I'm sorry.

Sunday, 2:33 PM Please answer

Sunday, 6:45 PM I know I fucked up

Sunday, 9:18 PM Don't want to lose you over this

Monday, 6:30 AM Riley

Monday, 11:42 AM Just want to talk

Monday, 3:55 PM Your team won't answer either

Monday, 7:21 PM This silence is killing me

Monday, 10:33 PM I was wrong about everything

Tuesday, 8:15 AM Practice today. Thinking about you

Tuesday, 12:00 PM Are you still coming Friday after my game?

Tuesday, 4:47 PM Riley please just tell me you're okay

Tuesday, 8:30 PM Long day. You would have made it better

Tuesday, 11:52 PM Can't sleep without knowing we're okay

Wednesday, 7:45 AM Your flight's still booked for Saturday

Wednesday, 2:20 PM I'll pick you up at the airport if you let me

Wednesday, 9:15 PM Last preseason game Friday. Then I'm free

Thursday, 6:30 AM Game tomorrow. Season starts next week

Thursday, 1:10 PM Remember when you said this would be your first season watching?

Thursday, 8:00 PM Still hoping you'll be there Saturday

Each message shows as delivered but never read. Joe stares at his phone after sending the last text, the simple words feeling inadequate but also all he can manage.

He doesn’t know that across the country, Riley’s phone is still in pieces in a drawer, and she’s been borrowing Pete’s phone for the essentials, staying offline the rest of the time.

He doesn’t know that she picked up a new phone yesterday but hasn’t set it up yet—no texts, no calls, nothing beyond what her team and family need.

He doesn’t know her flight to Cincinnati is still booked for Friday, or that she’s been staring at the confirmation email for hours, unable to decide whether to cancel or just not show up.

All Joe knows is the silence, and the growing realization that she might not be coming this weekend after all.

* * *

Joe stares at his phone Thursday night after sending what feels like his hundredth unanswered text. The silence is eating him alive, and tomorrow's preseason game feels meaningless when all he can think about is whether Riley will be on that flight Saturday.

He scrolls through his contacts and calls his dad.

"Joey," Jimmy answers on the second ring. "How you doing, son?"

"Not great."

Jimmy's tone immediately shifts. "What's wrong?"

"Riley and I... we had a fight."

There's a pause. Jimmy knows how Joe feels about Riley—he's been asking about her for months, has seen the change in his son since they started dating.

"What happened?"

Joe gives his dad the short version—the headlines, his team freaking out, telling Riley they needed to be more careful.

"She hasn't talked to me since," Joe says. "It's been five days."

"You try calling her?"

"Phone goes straight to voicemail."

Jimmy is quiet for a moment. "You know what doesn't work when you mess up?"

"What?"

"Sitting around waiting."

Joe feels something shift. "You think I should go to LA?"

"I think if you care about her, you don't let her sit there thinking you chose everyone else over her."

"What if she doesn't want to see me?"

"Then you'll know. But Joey, from everything you've told us about Riley, she's not someone who gives up easy. If she's not talking to you, there's a reason."

Joe thinks about that last conversation, how hurt she sounded. "My game's tomorrow."

"Saturday's when she's supposed to come here?"

"Yeah. If she still is."

"Then you better figure out how to get to LA Saturday morning."

Joe's chest tightens. "What if I get there and it's over?"

"What if you don't go and she thinks you don't care enough to try?"

After Joe hangs up, he sits in his house thinking about Riley's voice when she hung up on him. How she said he was treating her like a problem to manage.

He calls Sarah to book a private flight to LA for Saturday morning.

Joe books it.

Tomorrow's the last preseason game. Saturday he'll find out if he still has her.

Either way, he's done waiting.

* * *

Riley stares at her new phone, Joe's messages lighting up the screen one after another. She got the replacement yesterday after living phone-free for three days, borrowing Pete's when absolutely necessary. Now all of Joe's texts from the past few days are flooding in, a steady stream of apologies and questions that her broken phone never received.

She could respond. Could end this silence that's been stretching between them for five days now.

She doesn't.

"He's asking if you're still coming Saturday," Haley says, reading over Pete's shoulder at Joe's latest message. "To Cincinnati."

Riley looks at her laptop screen, where the flight confirmation email sits open. Departure: Saturday 4:20 PM LAX to CVG. She's been staring at it for twenty minutes, cursor hovering over the "cancel trip" button.

"I don't know," she says honestly.

"What does your gut say?" Andy asks from where he's sprawled across her living room floor, supposedly helping her reorganize her vinyl collection but mostly just making piles based on "vibes."

Riley’s gut twists with how much she misses Joe. She keeps reaching for her phone to text him the stupidest things—a weird billboard, a song that made her laugh, even the fact that she caught herself watching his team’s highlights on SportsCenter just to feel close to him.

Her gut also says that nothing he's texted changes what he said to her on that phone call. That when things got complicated, his first instinct was to protect himself, not her.

"My gut says I'm tired of being someone's secret," she says finally.

Daniel looks up from the corner where he's been quietly tuning his guitar. "But you were okay with keeping it private before."

"Yeah, well, that was before I realized I'm always gonna be the problem." Riley's voice gets sharper. "The messy one, the complicated one, the one who makes everything harder. I'm so fucking tired of men treating me like I'm too much."

"And you think Joe's ashamed of you?" Laura asks gently.

Riley considers this. "I think Joe's more worried about how I look on paper than who I actually am."

Her phone buzzes with a text from—

Gwen: How are you holding up? Ready for rehearsal Monday?

Riley types back: As ready as I can be.

It's not entirely true. She's been trying to channel her heartbreak into her music, but everything she writes comes out either too angry or too sad. She needs the sweet spot—the place where pain becomes art instead of just noise.

"You know what's fucked up?" she says, looking around at her friends scattered throughout her living room. "I was actually excited about football season. I downloaded apps, I was going to understand down and goal and all that shit. I was ready to care about something I've never cared about because I cared about him."

"You still could," Pete offers.

Riley shakes her head. "Not anymore. Every game would just remind me of this."

Her phone buzzes again with another message from

 Joe: Still hoping you'll be there Saturday.

The casual hope in that message breaks something in Riley's chest. Like he just assumes she'll show up, that she'll swallow her hurt and pretend everything's fine because it's easier for him.

"I'm not going," she says suddenly.

"To Cincinnati?" Haley asks.

"To Cincinnati. I'm canceling the flight."

She pulls her laptop closer and clicks "cancel trip" before she can change her mind. The confirmation disappears, replaced by a cancellation notice and a small refund to her credit card.

"There," she says, closing the laptop. "Decision made."

Andy sits up from his record sorting. "How do you feel?"

Riley takes inventory of her emotions. Relief, mostly. And something that might be disappointment—not in herself, but in Joe. In the possibility of them that she's officially letting go.

"Free," she says, and means it.

Her phone buzzes with another message from 

Joe: Remember when you said this would be your first season watching?

This one hurts because yes, she remembers. She remembers being excited about learning his world, about having something to root for besides her own career. She remembers texting him that silly David Byrne video and feeling like they were building something real together.

"He doesn't know you're getting all of these," Laura observes.

"No," Riley agrees. "And I'm not telling him."

"Why not?"

Riley thinks about it. She could text him, let him know she’s seen his messages and explain why she’s been silent. It would probably fix things, at least for a little while.

However, it wouldn't address the bigger problem: that Joe's first instinct in a crisis is to pull away from her, rather than toward her. That he spent more energy managing the situation than supporting her through it.

"Because his first reaction told me everything I need to know," she says. "About him, about us, about what happens when things get hard."

“For what it’s worth, I think he’s panicking. Like, losing his mind a little…or a lot.”

"Good," Riley says, and she's surprised by how much she means it. "Maybe he'll learn something from it."

"And if he doesn't?"

Riley looks around her living room—at Andy surrounded by vinyl records, at Daniel with a guitar, at Pete and Haley and Laura, who've all rearranged their lives this week to make sure she wasn't alone. At the evidence of a full life that existed before Joe Burrow and will continue to exist after him.

"Then I'll be fine," she says. "I was fine before him. I'll be fine without him."

It's not entirely true yet, but she's working on making it true. And for the first time since that devastating phone call, Riley thinks she might actually get there.

Her phone stays silent for the rest of the night. But for once, the silence doesn't feel like abandonment.

It feels like choice.

* * *

X

@PopSpotter:

Not Ethan Mills and Riley Carter fighting in public again…She’s always in something messy.

@NFLFanatic89:

Why is Joe Burrow’s name getting dragged into this Riley Carter drama? Man’s never been messy a day in his life.

@AnonMusicTea:

So are Riley and Joe Burrow actually together, or did TikTok just make that up? Either way, if they are, I’d be running after last night.

@RileyCStan:

Okay but you can literally see Ethan grab her wrist in the video and people are calling her unhinged? Do better.

Instagram

@starwatchupdate:

Swipe for video: “Riley Carter Restaurant Meltdown? Fans spotted her arguing with ex Ethan Mills last night. Rumors swirl that NFL star Joe Burrow is ‘freaked out by the drama’—but nothing confirmed.”

Top Comments:

goldengoosefan: If she and Joe were together, he’d be long gone after this lol

ethanisoverparty: How is Ethan always at the center of the mess?

softvinylz: Feels like everyone’s blaming Riley when Ethan’s right there starting it.

Reddit

r/popculturechat [Megathread: Riley Carter, Ethan Mills, and Joe Burrow Rumors]

u/notanotherstan:

Why is everyone acting like Joe and Riley are a thing? I feel like there’s no actual evidence except one tabloid photo from months ago.

u/football_boy:

Honestly if she was with Joe, you think he’d deal with all this drama? Guy hates being in the spotlight unless it’s football.

u/musicrocks:

Poor Riley. Every time she gets her life together, some ex drags her back down.

TikTok

@popcultdive (duet with viral restaurant clip):

“POV: You’re Joe Burrow, waking up to your name trending because of someone else’s drama. The man’s probably making coffee in total peace and the internet’s like: what would Joe DO?? #notmycircus #rileycarterdrama”

@rileysrideordie:

[compilation of Riley’s best live performances and a caption: “She’s been through worse. Stop blaming women for their ex’s bullshit.”]

News/Blog Headlines

“Blind Item”

Blind Gossip:

“Which low-key NFL star is allegedly regretting his private flirtation with a headline-making musician after her ex caused a scene in public? Sources say he’s ‘focused on football and not here for the drama."

[heavyhitterheaux]

Sorry For My Actions, All That I Projected (NSFW)

Synopsis: An argument ensues between you and your husband making you pull away from him when you were only trying to lift his spirits. You give him space just as he requested, but he was soon asking for forgiveness and thinking of the best possible way to make it up to you

Pairing: Husband!Joe Burrow x Wife!Reader

Requested by: a gorgeous anon 😘💕

DO NOT ENGAGE IF UNDERAGE

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

The door slammed once again to your shared house with your husband, indicating his frustrations as you were sitting in the living room watching the highlights from the most recent game that he played in. This had been the running theme for what was now three weeks in a row. The lights had been turned down low as you anxiously awaited his return and you already knew that he wasn’t going to be in the best mood. You hadn't been feeling very well and told him earlier that day that you would probably watch the game from home. He nodded his head when you told him as he kissed you goodbye and went on his way.

“Babe…” You started to say once you finally spotted him in the foyer as you sat up and looked in that direction, but he immediately cut you off.

“Not now.” Joe quickly said as he threw his bag to the side of him and let out a sigh.

“I just…”

“Y/N, I can’t right now, okay? I need a minute.”

“Um, okay.” You quietly answered as you went back to looking at the television and quickly decided to change the channel so Joe didn’t have to hear people possibly questioning his abilities. As far as you were concerned, he was the best quarterback ever in the history of the NFL and didn't care what anyone else said about it.

Joe then picked his bag up off the floor before heading upstairs as you continued to sit there and think of ways that you could possibly lift his spirits. He didn't get like this often, but not having a win for three straight weeks after working your ass off in order to get to this point, there was reason for him to be upset. He had confided in you before the season started and this was one of his biggest fears.

But the game that was just played honestly wasn't his fault. He played amazing and you could tell he was frustrated by the actions of some of his teammates. The blame could be put on the defense, but it was well known that it didn't matter. Because of him being the quarterback, the blame would be put on him.

It was now reaching twelve at night and you started making your way upstairs so that you could check on Joe. You found him in your shared bedroom watching the anchors on ESPN practically picking him apart at every chance they got while very few were defending him. You simply tried to take the remote away from him, but he held onto it tighter.

“Baby, this isn’t helping. You don't need to be watching this.”

“I'm fine.”

“No you aren't. You are nowhere near fine, and that's okay. You're frustrated and pissed off and for good reason. I get that.”

“I said I was fine, now can we drop it?”

“I'm just trying to help. I see my husband is upset and I'm trying to make it better.” You told him as you attempted to brush your hand through his hair, but he moved away from you.

The gesture definitely hurt your feelings but you did your best not to let it show.

“I'm going to sleep.” He simply told you as he turned the television off and got under the comforter.

You sighed before making your way into the bathroom to brush your teeth and do your nighttime skin care routine. Most nights Joe would do it with you, but you figured that he would rather not participate tonight and that you were better off not asking him.

While washing the face mask off, a few tears couldn't help but to slip out. The start of the season had been extremely hard on him and it seemed as if nothing good so far had come out of it. You tried not to let it get to you that he was being distant, but all in all it did. You knew he had to focus and having less distractions was important and by now you honestly should be used to it.

Once you were finished and changed into your pajamas, you climbed in bed next to him and could tell that he was still awake from his breathing since it hadn't slowed and debated on whether you should say anything to him.

“Babe?” You softly said and Joe turned around to face you.

“Hmm?”

“Still proud of you.”

It was now Monday night and excitement was evident as you were making dinner and planned to tell Joe after the two of you had eaten about the little one that was now growing in your belly. You hadn't been feeling well for the past two weeks and finally got a doctor's appointment earlier that day leaving Joe at home to sulk and also go to practice which he just recently got back from. After your appointment, you had stopped at the store and got a Bengals onesie along with a tiny football since you also found out that the baby was a boy. The two of you had been trying for a while and it seemed as if when you were about to give up that it finally happened.

Joe had taken up residence at the table once you told him that dinner was ready. You could tell that he was still in a mood, but it didn’t seem as bad as it was the day before and was hoping that hearing the news would turn his bad mood around. You were trying your best to give him space, but also be supportive at the same time. You understood that he had a lot of pressure on his shoulders at the moment.

“Babe, I made your favorite. I was hoping that this would help you feel better.” You told him as you kissed his cheek and he sighed before answering you as you set the plate in front of him before walking back over to the stove to make a plate for yourself.

“Y/N, you seriously don't know how to take a hint do you?”

“What? Joseph, what are you even talking about?”

“You have been all up under me for the past twenty four hours when I want to be left the fuck alone. What is it that you aren't getting?”

Hearing this, you turned around to look at him and noticed that he pushed his plate of food in the middle of the table, indicating that he in fact did not want it.

“Are you serious right now?” You asked, looking at your husband in disbelief.

As many games as he had lost in the past and the injuries he had gone through along with the surgeries, he had never blown up at you and you were not understanding what his issue was. Yes, he was frustrated but the last thing he needed to do was take it out on his wife.

“You act like you need to be under me every waking moment of every day and follow me around like some little lost ass puppy when I lose a game. I already have a mother and don't need another one. Last time I checked, you were my wife.”

“I'm only trying to help and want for you to feel better. I understand that you’re frustrated, but this is not the way we go about things and you know that.” You told him as you were trying to do your best to even your breathing. Because it was only a matter of time before you started to yell at him. You didn't want to do that, but he honestly deserved it because of how he was speaking to you.

“Well I guess this is news to you that you're not helping. None of this is fucking helping. What would help is my wife giving me space when I ask for it.”

That was the last straw and you knew that it was necessary for you to walk away when you looked down at your watch to see that it alerted you about a high heart rate.

“Hmm, noted.” Was all you said before walking out of the kitchen and leaving Joe there with his thoughts.

Tears couldn't help but make their way down your cheeks as you walked down to where your mini library was and you angrily wiped them away. It was a gift from Joe last Valentine's day and that was your place of peace when you wanted to get away from everything. A lot of times when Joe couldn't find you, he knew that more than likely that is where you would be and would always cuddle with you while he also grabbed a book to read or he always loved when you read to him.

Curling up in the corner with your pillow, you placed your phone next to you and opened your book at the place where you left off earlier. If he wanted to be left alone, you didn't have any problem with it. But you knew for a fact that he would come crawling back sooner or later asking for forgiveness.

And you weren't sure if he deserved it.

Regret filled Joe instantly when he saw you walk away from him. He debated on if he should go after you, but he knew better. He would give you time and give you your space to cool off. He got up and began putting all the food away so that it could be eaten tomorrow because he simply didn't have an appetite.

He could admit that the last thing that he ever wanted to do was take something out on you, but he did. He knew that you were only trying to help and the blame couldn't be placed on anything except for him being an asshole who clearly didn't deserve you.

The thoughts were running through his mind as he was going through his ideas of what he could possibly do for you in order to receive your forgiveness for how he had acted, but he was coming up short.

He would simply sleep on it tonight and hoped that things would be better in the morning and that you two could talk and be able to get on the same page.

Waking up, Joe reached for you since you were never one to get up early unless absolutely necessary and instantly frowned when he noticed that you weren't next to him and probably weren't for the entire night when he saw that your side of the bed was completely untouched. He got up and immediately went on the hunt to look for you and found you in the kitchen sipping what looked like tea and reading your book.

Joe cautiously approached you before saying anything, anticipating that you were immediately going to shut him down.

“Babe, can we talk?” He quietly asked and you glanced up at him before putting your attention back onto your book.

“For what?” You replied and Joe muttered a quiet ‘fuck’ under his breath.

“I need to apologize for how I've been acting towards you. You didn't deserve that when you were only trying to be supportive and help me.” He told you as he came and sat across from you. He wanted to grab your hand, but decided against it since you were holding your book and more than likely you would pull back from him.

“I don't want to talk to you right now.”

“Okay… I get it. But um, later?” Joe wasn't surprised at all by your answer and knew that he deserved it.

“No, I'm busy.”

“With?”

You simply placed your bookmark to keep your place in your book before looking up at your husband and folding your hands as you leaned on the kitchen table.

“When that becomes your concern, I'll let you know. And I have things that I have to do. So, therefore this conversation is now over.”

“Baby….”

“No. Immediately no. You do not get to do that. You were an asshole to me and quite frankly, I don't have to put up with it. So like I said, I don't want to talk to you. Matter of fact, I don't even want to be in the same house as you so I'm leaving.” You replied as you got up from the table, put your cup in the sink and walked out of the kitchen leaving Joe sitting at the table just like you did last night.

It was now Friday afternoon and once again Joe was blowing up your phone and had been for the past three days. You had decided to stay with your best friend Jazmine for the time being to let Joe think about what he did. Besides, he did tell you that he wanted his space, so he got what he asked for. You were sitting on her bed while the two of you were watching The Nightmare Before Christmas which happened to be one of your favorite Halloween movies that Joe would watch with you every year. You could feel her eyes on you as she saw you looking down at your phone.

Husband- Baby, can we please talk? I told you that I was sorry. I understand why you're mad but it's been three days since you've been home.

You- You pissed me off so much so don't be surprised if you don't see me until the playoffs and even then you’d be lucky if that even happens. You asked for space, so that's what I'm giving you. Get off my phone Joseph.

Husband- What can I do to make this up to you? I miss you.

You- Oh, now you miss me? Give me my space. Oh my, doesn't that sound familiar? Goodnight.

Husband- Babe, it's only 1 in the afternoon

You- And? I said goodnight Joseph Lee Burrow.

Jazmine glanced over at you before looking back towards the movie on the screen and sighed.

“He still doesn't know? Does he?” She asked inquiring if he knew about the pregnancy.

“No, simply because I was going to tell him that same night that he decided to have a temper tantrum.”

“Well maybe….” She started to say and you eyed her.

“Maybe what?”

“You need to tell him and the two of you need to make up and make up soon. I am not taking up for him in any way, shape, or form, but he has apologized multiple times and quite frankly, I am tired of him also blowing up my phone to check on you.”

“I'll text him the sonogram picture.” You told her as you shrugged and went to your phone gallery.

“NO Y/N! That is not what I meant.”

“And throw the mini football I got at his throat. It won't hurt, it's soft.”

“Okay, I sense that you're still angry, but you need to calm down and stop being petty.”

“You're taking his side.”

“No I'm not! I'm just saying that man loves you and will do absolutely anything for you. He messed up big time, but wants to make it up to you. It is literally only a matter of time before he shows up on my doorstep.”

“You have a ring camera so you can see him. You don't have to open the door.”

“We are finishing this movie and then you are going home to talk to your husband.”

“You're kicking me out? WOOOOOWWWW.” You exclaimed as you crossed your arms over your chest.

“You have a literal mansion to go to! Yes, I'm kicking you out.”

“Will you at least feed me first?”

“You're getting McDonald's and that's it.”

“I'll make sure it takes me three hours to eat it.”

Jazmine simply rolled her eyes in response.

It was now around four in the afternoon when you were finally pulling into the driveway of your house. Sighing, you grabbed your bag from the passenger and made your way inside. You went through the garage and then through the kitchen in order to make your way upstairs in the hopes of Joe not seeing you. You still didn't feel ready to talk to him. As you made your way upstairs into your bedroom, you were surprised to see Joe sitting there scrolling on his phone and sighed. When he heard your footsteps, he immediately stood up and walked over to you.

“Only reason I'm here is because Jazmine kicked me out. I am still extremely pissed off at you.”

“I know because I told her to.”

You did a double take and looked at your husband in disbelief.

“I was desperate and wanted you here so we could talk. Besides, she told me you kept eating all of her snacks.”

Rolling your eyes, you dumped your clothes into the hamper and set your overnight bag in the bottom of the walk-In closet with Joe following behind you. You reached up behind a pair of your shoes on the second shelf and got the Bengals onesie along with the mini football and handed it to Joe who looked confused.

“Uh? Who is this for?”

“You. Even though I should throw the football at your head for how you talked to me.”

“I… wait… you're pregnant?”

“Yes and you would have found out on Monday if you weren't busy being an asshole. I was so excited to tell you, but that quickly went out the window.”

“Babe…. I… I'm sorry. I promise that it will never happen again. You were only trying to help me and I took that for granted. And I also ruined this.” He said as he held up the onesie to examine it.

“Hmm.”

“I bought you some peonies. They're downstairs in the kitchen.” He quietly told you as he played with the football you had handed him.

“I'll look at them later. The baby is a boy and I hope you teach him how and how not to speak to his significant other so he can learn from your mistakes.”

It was still awkward between the two of you after you had come back home from being with Jazmine for a few days. Now that he knew about the little life inside of you, It seemed like every waking moment he was asking you if you were okay and getting you anything that you might need and bringing it to you. You could admit that it was nice and he was trying to do his best in order to make it up to you.

Since you had somewhat finally got your nausea under control, you decided that you would go to the game this week and see him play but made sure to have meds and ginger ale on stand by. It was an away game as they were playing the Carolina Panthers and Jazmine quickly volunteered to go with you. She told you that she wanted to keep you company, but deep down you knew it was because of her huge crush that she had on Ja'Marr even though she would probably never admit it.

The two of you had just gotten situated in your suite because you knew for a fact that if Joe caught you in the stands with regular fans that he would have a fit. An incident occurred last season before his wrist injury which included so called ‘fans’ harassing you. He knew how much you liked being near the action, but from that point on, in order to not compromise your safety, you always needed to be in a suite for his peace of mind.

“Oh! There's your man!” Jazmine said as she nudged you, but rolled your eyes.

“You only noticed because of who he's standing next to.”

“I… don’t ever know what you mean bestie.” She replied as she was heavily eyeing Ja'Marr.

“Sure, sure. I need to get you two to go on a date so that we can all be put out of this misery.”

“He's cute!”

“And single, so shoot your shot.” You told her as you felt a wave of nausea come over you and quickly grabbed your ginger ale taking a sip.

“Tell his bestie a.k.a. your husband to put in a good word for me.”

“I'll see what I can do.”

“I literally can't wait for the double dates.”

It was nearing the end of the game and it looked like for the first time this season that the Bengals would actually have a win which you knew Joe would finally be excited about.

“You know what you should do?” Jazmine asked as she turned to look at you.

“What?”

“He already doesn't know you're here so surprise him in his hotel room. You know where he's staying so….”

“And he always leaves a key for me at the front desk just in case I decide to come to an away game.”

“See? Perfect. Yall need to have make up sex because both of you are still acting awkward around each other when you've seen each other naked and his private parts have been in your mouth and yours in his which is still so weird to me.”

“Jazmine….”

“Like I remember the first time you told me you deep throated him.”

“Jazmine….”

“Had him seeing stars and shit.”

“Jazmine….”

“Just saying. You need to get dicked down. And his first win of the season? Oh girl the paint on the walls needs to be peeling by the time yall get finished.”

“JAZMINE!” You called her name for the fourth time before you busted out laughing.

“What!? What'd I say!? You know it's true. He might end up putting another one in you.”

“Don't you wish that on me!”

“That man is about to turn you every way but loose. You always said you wanted a lot so don't switch it up now. I'm actually surprised yall don't have ten kids already.” She said as she held her hands up in defense.

You rolled your eyes before laughing at her and unlocked your phone to go to your text messages. You read where Joe had sent you which hotel that they were staying at and saw that it wasn't very far from the actual stadium. If you didn't want to hit the stadium traffic, you decided that you should leave now to give yourself enough time.

“What's that look for?” Jazmine asked as she saw the wheels in your head turning.

“I'm about to head to the hotel. That way it'll be easier for me to maneuver because everyone else is still watching the game.”

“Well don't let me stop you. Go and spend time with your man. Just lay on the bed with nothing on. I'll text you when my flight is about to take off.”

Getting to the hotel and getting the key to his room wasn't a problem and you were waiting patiently for him to get there as you were laying down on the bed and scrolling through your phone.

You then noticed that you didn't have a lot of battery left and stood up to get your charger out of your bag when you heard the door open.

Joe walked in and was surprised to see his wife in front of him and instantly smiled.

“I didn't realize that I was going to have a special guest.” He said as he walked over to you and wrapped his arms around you as he placed a kiss on top of your head.

“I decided at the last minute to come and Jazmine volunteered to come with me.” You told him as you stepped back to stare up at him.

“Congratulations by the way. I'm very proud of you. Even though I was proud of you before.” You told him as you reached up to kiss him.

“Thank you. I think because you’re here is why we probably won.”

“I don't know about that. You give me too much credit.”

It was quiet for a few minutes as the two of you simply stared at each other before Joe was the first one to break the silence.

“I hate fighting with you and I'm sorry. The entire thing is my fault and you were just trying to help. Are you still mad at me?”

“How many times are you going to apologize? It happened, we moved on from it. And no. It takes too much energy for me to be mad at you.”

“But I still feel like shit. I can't believe that I talked to my own wife like that. I see why you wanted to throw the football at my head. You had a good reason.” Joe muttered and you stifled a laugh.

“You can make it up to me now, though ” You told him as you let go of him and reached behind you to undo the clasp on your bra.

“How and what are you doing?”

Instead of you answering him with words, you simply pulled your bra out from underneath your shirt and threw it onto the floor after you had taken it off without taking off your shirt.

Joe simply bit his lip before he reached down to kiss you as he backed you up until the back of your legs hit the bed. He gently laid you down and told you to move until you got to the top.

“Move up higher for me.”

Once you did and got settled, Joe was playing with the bottom of your shirt which happened to be his jersey before pulling it up over your head leaving your top half bare in front of him.

Soft kisses were placed all along your body starting from your collar bone and working all the way down until he got to your shorts quickly unbuttoning them. You lifted your hips so that he could pull them away from your body along with your panties and spread your legs wide as he placed kisses along each thigh.

“You're so beautiful, baby. You know that?”

“Hmm, I think that you've told me once or twice before. But I always love hearing you say it.”

“And I'll never get tired of saying it.”

As he held onto your thighs, you instantly felt his mouth on you and a quiet moan couldn't help but to escape your lips.

“Shh. Stay quiet for me, baby. The last thing I want is to hear Ja'Marr complaining that you were too loud because his room is next to mine. I won't hear the end of it.”

“You shouldn't make me feel so good then. And it's not like he hasn't heard us before.” You replied as Joe immediately scoffed.

“Like that's ever going to happen. Keep those legs spread for me or I'll do it for you. You’re already so wet and I've barely done anything.” Joe quietly said as he was running his fingers along your folds making you buck your hips forward.

“I think my wife is growing impatient and she better behave herself because if she doesn't I'll edge her all night. You know I love you, right?”

“Yes and I love you right back.”

“Good, remember that because I'm about to fuck you like I don't.”

—

“Oh shiiit.” You blurted out as Joe was pounding into you as you wrapped your arms around his neck and brought him closer to you so that your noses were touching.

He quickly took advantage of the opportunity and brought you into a kiss before placing your legs on top of his shoulders.

You had lost count of how many times you had hit your peak that night and was surprised that Joe still had so much energy. Seeing as it was now close to two in the morning. You guess you can blame it on the high from winning the game.

Without warning he slipped out of you making you whimper before he moved down to be face to face with your core once more and began to eat you out again which felt like the millionth time this evening.

“Mmm, baby. Right there, stay right there.” You gasped as he began moving his tongue in and out making you squirm.

Joe could tell you were close as he held you down in place and began to suck on your clit.

“Fuck! Babe, I can’t take it.”

“Yes you can. Give me one more.” Joe answered you as he went back to sucking on your clit.

Your back arched off of the bed as no sounds were coming out of your mouth and knew that it was only a matter of time before you came all over his face, as you've done so many times already. Sure enough you felt it building up and tried to push Joe away from you, but he just held onto you tighter.

“I know your ass is not trying to run away from me. I thought you were my good girl. Good girls don't do that.”

Your response to Joe was you squirming all over his face.

“And there it is. I knew you had one more in you.” Joe told you as he placed small kisses all along your thighs. You didn't even bother responding as you were trying to regulate your breathing and Joe crawled back up your body to kiss you before laying his head on your chest.

“Do you forgive me now?” He asked as he nipped at your breasts before taking one in his mouth and lightly sucking.

“Yes, but I had already forgiven you. This was just a plus. But promise me that nothing like that will ever happen again no matter what the circumstances are. We communicate better than that.”

“Promise.”

The two of you laid in silence for a few minutes with your arms wrapped around each other when Joe's phone went off. He reached over to grab it while still holding onto you and unlocked his screen to see that it was a text from Ja'Marr.

Ja'Marr- are yall done yet? Because I have YET to go to sleep. I knew she was mad at you, but got damn.

“See? Baby, I told you that you were too loud.” Joe said as he was trying not to laugh.

[joeyfranchise]

love is the tuesdays

joe burrow x fem!reader

summary: joe asks your dad for his blessing to marry you, and then he reflects on what love really feels like.

warnings: it’s all fluff 🥺 but mdni with my page, thanks!!

word count: 1.4k.

note: i listened to tuesdays by jake scott and i was immediately inspired to write this. the song has such beautiful storytelling and it just reminded me of joe, so i needed to write it for you all to read. italicized bits are lyrics from the song.

this summer would make two years since you and joe became a couple. 

you met him through your job, a small non-profit in cincinnati, where you occasionally took trips to paycor stadium to oversee events that involved the bengals organization and their players. 

he was quiet at first, but always polite. he had the kind of smile that could light up a room, the kind that would knock the wind right out of you. he thought the same thing about you. 

he was enamored with you almost immediately, the grace with which you handled yourself and the way you spoke so softly, the way you made everyone you talked to feel important. he always enjoyed the days he’d get to see you around the stadium, your presence became somewhat of a comfort for him, even though he barely knew you. 

when he finally worked up the courage to ask you out, you accepted immediately, harboring a little crush on him yourself. you loved his laugh, when you’d see him goof off with his friends… in your eyes he was perfect, and he felt the same about you.

the rest was history.

since the first date you’d become inseparable, soaking up all the sweet moments you’d get with each other and falling deeper and deeper in love. that led joe to this moment. 

you’d left for a business trip a few states over to help with a fundraiser, promising joe you’d be back in a few days time. he dropped you off at the airport with a sweet kiss and a light tap on the ass, which you scolded him for while simultaneously laughing. 

once you were gone he went home, grabbed up his things, and drove to your hometown with the intention of talking to your parents, specifically your father. 

joe had everything already planned, but he needed your dad’s blessing. he wanted to propose to you on the anniversary of your first date. he brought the ring with him as well, hoping your mother could give him a bit of insight on it. 

when he arrived your parents were shocked, but he pleaded with them not to tell you he’d come by and that he planned on staying for a night. 

“what brings you by, son?” your father had asked, raising an eyebrow at joe suspiciously. “not that we mind, of course,” your mom added, “just a bit unexpected.” 

“well, sir,” joe began, fiddling with his fingers as he spoke, “i was hoping you and i could talk about something… maybe privately. sorry mrs. y/l/n.” 

your father agreed, wrapping an arm around joe’s shoulder and leading him outside. your mother didn’t mind. she’d tell them later she knew all along, something to do with a mother’s intuition. 

joe and your father sat down together on the porch swing, and your father kicked his legs out to set it into motion. “so, are you gonna ask for my blessing?” your father questioned, a knowing smile spread across his face. 

joe was taken aback by the question, but he only let his confidence falter for a moment. “yes sir, that’s why i came here. i love your daughter so much and i want to marry her, and i know it means a lot to her to do things traditionally. so i’ve come to ask for your blessing and for whatever advice you can give me.” 

“it’s been twenty seven years since i married her mother,” your dad started, leaning toward joe a bit, “and i wouldn’t change a single thing. what i’ll tell you is this… love is the tuesdays.” 

joe looked perplexed by your father’s admission, simply asking him “what do you mean?” 

your dad smiled again, resting a calm hand on joe’s shoulder. “what i mean is, it’s not always picture perfect dancing in a white dress. it’s not just rainy days when nothing stops the fighting. it’s not just highs and lows. it’s everything and all that in between. love is the tuesdays. if you want my blessing, kid, you’ve got it. but you had better treat my girl right.” 

joe extended a hand for your father to shake, which he did with a firm grip. “i promise i’ll treat her right,” joe assured, “i love her more than anything.” 

“i know you do. she feels the same about you,” your dad said, before hopping off the swing and heading inside. joe came in a few minutes later and spent the rest of the evening just going over his plan to propose to you, where he’d do it and how. 

your mother teared up at the amount of thought joe had put into this, he knew how sentimental you were and he wanted every detail to be absolutely perfect. he admitted he didn’t care much for tradition, he’d marry you at the courthouse if it meant you’d be his forever, but he knew what it meant to you. that’s why he took the time meticulously curating every detail, and he knew it’d bring a smile to your face. 

your parents enjoyed talking with him, but eventually they went off to bed, bidding him a good night. joe headed off to your childhood bedroom to get settled in for the night, hoping he’d be able to talk to you for a bit before he went to sleep.

the two of you got a few texts in, followed by matching ‘i love you, goodnight’ messages, and then joe locked and plugged in his phone before rolling to his side and closing his eyes, hoping sleep would find him. 

as he tried to relax, your father’s words replayed in his mind. love is the tuesdays. 

joe thought for a moment about what that meant. and what your love meant to him, what your relationship did for him. he realized that your love is breakfast thrown together, or sleeping in his high school sweater. 

he always enjoyed those perfect, comfortable mornings when you didn’t have anywhere to be. you’d make your coffee and sit by the window, staring out at the view as you sipped the warm liquid, often with a book in your hands. you loved wearing his clothes, especially to sleep, and joe thought you were the most beautiful in those soft sweet moments. the way your hair cascaded down around your shoulders, your eyes still puffy from sleep. the way he could see you physically relax as soon as you took a sip of your coffee, your comfort in a cup.

when you’d finish you’d take it to the sink and start on breakfast, whatever he wanted for the day, and you’d eat together as you planned out the rest of your day, and even sometimes your week. 

joe realized that love was the season three you’re watching, a little bit of evening walking, and sitting with your best friend talking.

he enjoyed watching any show with you, he loved your reactions and your sensitivity, how you were prone to cry at any given moment. 

he loved going for quiet walks after dinner at night, given you both had the free time. the crickets would chirp around you as you walked hand in hand, sometimes stopping to twirl in the street. 

he loved seeing you sit and talk with your best friends, how your smile would spread across your face as they made you laugh. love was sitting with his best friend, too.

ja’marr had told him many times, “you’re different around her, burrow. light. i like that.” 

joe liked it too. he knew troubles would come, and that it wouldn’t always be easy, but he wanted every moment with you. in sickness and in health, to have and to hold, for richer and for poorer. 

your fathers words echoed in his head again. “you’ve got my blessing… but love is the tuesdays.” 

he finally fell asleep, and when he woke the next morning he had a small breakfast with your parents before grabbing his things and heading out, back home to cincinnati. he knew he needed to grab you from the airport the next day, and he wanted to be able to relax his nerves a bit before doing so. 

he made it home safely, and the next day he greeted you at the airport with a bouquet of pink roses, one of your favorite flowers. “how’s my girl?” he asked you, leaning in to kiss your forehead. 

“i’m great, the fundraiser went super well. how are you? did you get up to anything?” you asked, leaning into his side. a mischievous smirk spread across his face. “nah, i didn’t get up to anything. i’m just peachy!” he said. 

“alright, you’re being weird,” you said, eyeing him suspiciously. “what’s gotten into you? you’re creeping me out!” you laughed. “nothing, nothing. i’m just excited,” he admitted, pulling you back into him. 

“for what?” you prodded, expecting answers. 

you didn’t even know the half of what was coming. 

photos and dividers are not mine. all cred to owners.

taglist: @joeyburrrow @starsinthesky5 @joeyb1989 @kykysinlovewithafairytale @burrowdarling @loveyatopluto @toterry @unhingedfangirl @superheroprincess22 @burreauxsworld @slimshiesty @yelenasbraid

[pleasantglitterflower]

BURROW FAMILY

The knife was dropped on the wooden board with force, she sighed tiredly, squeezed her eyes tightly, wondering if that was really real, but the crying on the second floor and the baby monitor confirmed it.

Amanda washed her hands, leaving the unfinished dinner in the kitchen and hurriedly went upstairs with her strategic spare bottle.

Only then did she realize that she might have hurt her fingers with the knife, she quickly looked at her hand and saw that there was no blood, so he was probably fine.She arrived at her youngest son's room with his little brother.

-Peter, come see what the fuss is about, you're being a good big brother. She smiled at the boy who hurried to find a toy for his little brother to try to calm down.

-Mommy, why is this boy crying so much?It was the firstborn's turn to appear, as always, complaining.

-I don't know, honey, but since you're already 9 years old, how about helping Mommy and doing some research on Google? She suggests, picking up the baby and trying to make him stop.

-He's annoying. - The boy walks away, returning to his room.

-Okay, Gunner, your brother loves you too. - She sighs, trying to make the youngest one take the bottle at once.

-Mommy, why does he always drink milk with that powder? - Gunner takes the opportunity to ask, and only then does Amanda realize that she needs to shake the bottle more since all the powder has settled at the bottom.

-Your brother is sick, and the more he drinks this, the better he gets - she tries to explain.

Dealing with everyone's curiosity has been difficult, she doesn't know how to say it.

-Ash, honey, can you get your brother's blanket for me? I think he's cold. - Amanda calls to the girl, who appeared at the bedroom door with a doll and some of her jewelry hanging from her neck and ears.

-You look so pretty, my love.- Amanda is surprised by the girl's face smeared with mascara and her expensive lipstick.

-If he were a girl, I would get him, but he's a boy, boys are silly. - She leaves, stomping her foot.

Amanda sighs. The only time everyone decides to be disobedient is when she's holding him in her arms. The older ones are jealous of the younger one, and rightly so. For over a year, they haven't talked about anything else except what Ben is feeling, what Ben needs, if Ben went to the doctor, how Ben woke up. Ever since the complications started, even before he was born, the children started to rebel.

Gunner stays quiet in his room, plays the little his father allows him, studies and is responsible for teasing everyone. On rare occasions, he manages to hug his parents and siblings and live normally. Ashley, at 7 years old, is leaving her princess phase and entering what she calls her diva era. Now the girl alternates between ripping her dolls' clothes and going to her mother's closet to try to grab something within her reach, which rarely happens, leaving only the makeup on the sink, which Amanda still doesn't know how to get to. Peter always appears when the subject is his younger brother. Amanda thought he felt some special closeness, since he was barely three years old. That is until she discovered that he was just desperately trying to shut up his younger brother, so he could go back to the comics that he doesn't understand at all. He just laughs at the pictures and then throws them away. -Gunner, can you get your brother's blanket for me? - Amanda goes to the door to make it easier for him to hear her, without taking Ben's bottle away. She knows what's going to happen.

-I can't, I'm watching a live stream - The boy shouts, irritating Amanda.

-Of course, because the live stream is more important than helping your mother cover your cold brother - She snorts tiredly.

-That's right -The boy retorts.

Ben ended up spitting out the milk, making her quickly pull the bottle away and do some juggling to make sure he didn't choke or drop the bottle.

Only then did she realize something: his skin, despite the goosebumps, was hot, which could only mean one thing: another fever.

After the chaos of the afternoon, Joe came home from training at night, when everything was under control, Peter was calmly watching TV, Ash had taken a shower and had his hair properly combed, Gunner was in a good mood, since he found a candy in the fridge, and not forgetting Ben who, after a call with the pediatrician, managed to control Amanda's fever without needing medication.

-How did they behave today, General? -Joe salutes Amanda.

-Gunner was the worst, I think you need to have a little talk with him, Ash continues to act like daddy’s little princess and Peter, thank God, I only hear his laughter when he’s watching comics or TV. - She explains, finishing collecting the children’s plates, while Gunner helps to tidy everything up.

Joe signals for her to come closer, stealing a kiss and earning a grimace from her.

-How’s Ben? He asks quietly, already aware of the commotion that occurs when someone asks about the boy.

-He has a little fever. She also speaks quietly, glancing back. Gunner is distracted, putting everything in the dishwasher.

-I’m going to take a shower and see how he’s doing. - Joe approaches to try to hug her, but Amanda is quick to pull away.

He just scratched the back of his neck, not knowing what to do. It's not the first time she's run away from him or acted harshly. He knows that everything has been difficult, but he doesn't know how to help solve everything, whether it's the children's mood, Ben's health or their marriage.

The truth is that Amanda has always been rational and practical, unlike Joe, who was too sentimental and romantic. The last time he saw his wife guided by passion and emotion was when he proposed to her and it didn't take long for them to get married.

Ben sleeps like an angel in his crib. Joe took the opportunity to gently caress his little hand.

Eating in silence has become a routine. Amanda insists that the children eat early so they can go to bed early, which gives Joe little time with them. He only spends his free time when he tries to do something with everyone. Most nights are like this, with him at an empty table, Amanda on the phone eating a salad.

-How long are you going to follow this crazy diet? He starts a conversation.

-It's healthy, I'll follow it until the nutritionist changes it. -She answers without looking at him.

-I said I just wanted to get your body back, you're already much thinner than before...Joe is cut off.

-That's your opinion.She ends the subject.

Joe simply doesn't see any way to talk to her.

-I only care if you're healthy.

-She's trained to tell me to eat things that will make me healthy, so yes. - Joe decides to change the subject.

-Did you see that the new season of Ru Paul is coming out?

-So what?She continues to ignore him.

-Well, we always watched it at night and... Joe is cut off again.

-I don’t have time for this. - She quickly gets up.

In a few minutes, she washed what was in front of her, put some things away and went upstairs completely automatically. Watching the drag show was their time to relax, laugh, cry, but do something that was definitely just theirs. But since the problems with Ben, it was yet another thing that had changed.

The next night, after a busy day, the children’s dinner is too chaotic.

-It’s your fault he’s a boy, I don’t like you. -Ash pouts and turns his face to Amanda, who takes a deep breath.

-Honey, I’m going to teach you something called biology, okay, remember that. If your brother is a boy, it’s your father’s fault. - Amanda smiles at the girl.

Ash went from angry to confused in minutes, her face changed, the girl felt betrayed by her father, in a jump she jumped out of the chair and started running and screaming around the house.

-I hate you, daddy

The phrase echoes in every corner, while she spins from one side to the other until Joe arrives and hears that.

-Why does daddy's little princess hate me? He asks the girl offended.

The girl with blond curls stamped her foot and was firm.

-Ben is a boy and it's your fault, I hate you, mommy told me everything - She says indignantly.

Joe had to hold himself back from laughing at her trying to confront him.

-Don't be like that, we can give you a little sister

-Can you? She seems to calm down.

-Yes, mommy doesn't want one -Joe finishes.

At the same time, Ashley went to Amanda who holds herself back from cursing Joe.

-Mommy, I want a little sister. Her name will be Jasmine. She has to be a redhead. The girl demands.

-That's great, honey. We have two options: we adopt or your dad finds another mother for your sister. What do you think? - Amanda responds, irritated by the subject.

Ashley blinks slowly, thinking about what she heard. Meanwhile, Joe is busy messing up Peter's hair, who is trying to finish eating.

Ashley quickly opens her mouth and starts to cry. The girl's face turns red. She tilts her head back and her mouth is wide open, intensifying her crying.

-Daughter, you don't have to cry about this - Amanda asks.

-Ben cries all the time for nothing. I have a reason. - She says with some difficulty.

Amanda gets up, going to the fridge and getting a

-Stop crying, eat some chocolate, you love chocolate - The girl slaps her hand.

-Ash, mommy was playing - Joe tries to explain, only then does Amanda realize why she is crying.

-I hate you, you're going to find us another mommy and you didn't give me a sister -She says again.

Joe sighs heavily, sitting on the floor to be closer to her.

-Ashley, your mommy was playing with you, you don't have another mommy and you can't control whether your siblings are boys or girls, we all know that Gunner would look much better in a dress and a bow - Joe jokes, earning a grimace from the older boy.

-Promise me you won't have another mommy? - She wipes her face, looking at him with fear awaiting his answer.

-I promise

But Ashley didn't believe it.

When she understood the reason for her crying, Amanda thought about divorce for the first time. That gave her two thoughts: the first was what her life would be like without Joe, and the second was how difficult it would be for them.

Joe and Amanda had to go to Ashley's room together to put her to bed, since she was still scared.

-You don't have to think about those things, you hear me? - Amanda said to the girl sitting on the bed, her eyes still red.

-Do you promise? - She asked. Amanda could hear the fear in the girl's voice.

She didn't know how to answer that, or maybe she just didn't have the strength to do so. She decided to hug her.

-I love you.Amanda kissed her forehead, and she smiled shyly.

-I took your Snow White blanket, I don't want to see Daddy's little princess crying over nothing anymore. Joe appears, opens the blanket and covers her, leaving a kiss on her cheek just as an excuse to tickle her.

He then hugs Amanda's neck, who is sitting on the edge of the bed.

-I want you to know that Daddy loves Mommy and won't leave her and she won't leave me either, because we love each other, we've known each other since Peter was old and I've always been proudly her soulmate and she's mine, soulmates don't live apart, because if they do they get so sad that they end up dying, you know?  Joe questions the girl who denies it.

-So you can never be apart - The girl deduces.

-That’s right, if not, daddy will die of sadness, I love your mother so much, that’s why, daughter, don’t worry, I’ll never leave her, you hear me?  Joe’s words, while he rocks her in this boat, seem to run through her mind.

-Isn’t that right, honey? He asks her.

-Yeah - Amanda agrees, a little out of it.

Ashley went to sleep peacefully, while Amanda and Joe are still confused.

-I shouldn’t have said that, she’ll keep bugging me - Amanda reminds him.

-It’ll be nice to have another girl.

-Joe, I don’t want any more children, I think we’ve had enough a long time ago, especially after Ben, I can’t bear to go through that again. Amanda is sincere, leaving her cream on the sink and looking at him.

-Okay, no problem, I just imagined it, it was really hard for all of us, I know it’s been even harder for you. He agrees.

-We all suffered equally, the children felt it, you felt it, Ben felt it - She states, she hates the narrative of being weak or showing how much it affected her regardless of the situation.

-That’s why I thought about a surrogate mother, she’ll have our DNA, but someone else will have the child - Joe replies.

Amanda stopped everything she was doing.

-You understand that I said I don’t want any more children, it’s not just that part, it involves raising the child too.

-And Ashley, she’ll grow up in a house with so many boys, with no one to play with, to keep her company, that’s horrible, even more so when there are going to be three boys, I had brothers and you did, you know how important and good it is.

-Exactly, she already has brothers, they’ll be great company for her - Amanda insists.

-I just think we can talk about it later, calmly, think about the idea, it’s just an idea.

Amanda just ignored him.

-We have a big, happy family. Another child would be welcomed and loved, I'm sure. - Just like Ben? She asks him as she leaves the bathroom. -It's just siblings' annoyance. Tell me, whether your siblings are younger or older, they've never said they hate you? - Joe asks her. -We have plenty of rooms in the house. We have space, we have time, we have money, we're young and we have love to give. What's the problem? - Joe sits down next to Amanda on the bed, making it impossible for her to lie down and ignore him. -Have you ever thought about what would happen if our marriage ended? She asks him impulsively. Joe's eyes widened. -It wouldn't be fair to them. The room quickly became agitated. -Why should I think about that? It doesn't make any sense. - He stares at her.

-This divorce thing doesn't exist, you heard me, it doesn't exist, forget what Ashley said, my love, she was just scared, there's no reason to think about it - he gave a weak smile and got up.

But the following days were strange, especially for Joe.

He woke up in the middle of the night, with her fiddling with something, he threw the blanket aside, seeing Amanda already with a bag.

-What's wrong? He sighs trying to wake up.

-Ben has a high fever, I'm going to take him to the doctor - she says, going to the door to leave the room.

Joe gets up quickly.

-Wait a minute, I'll go with you

Amanda huffs irritably, turning to her husband.

-There's no point in both of you going, if I'm already going, stay home - Amanda leaves the room slamming the door.

Joe ran his hands through his hair, not knowing what else to do. The hours passed and he couldn't sleep a wink. He went to check if the others were okay. He called Amanda to try to find out something, but the calls ended. He went to the living room, where he didn't notice what time he ended up hanging up.

In the morning, he woke up to the excitement of the children. Seeing that she had arrived, Peter went to him on the couch to give his father a little hug. Joe decided to go see Ben, who was awake and a little agitated, since he was now eight months old and learning to crawl. That's why the bedroom door had gained extra protection.

He decided to go get ready, since he had training and had no excuse not to go, but when he got to the kitchen, he decided to rethink things.

-You know, I think we should hire a nanny. It would be good to have someone who can always be around, sharing the work. If I could, you know, I would spend the day here with you, but... - He gives the idea when he sees Amanda with her eyes a little purple, probably from tiredness.

-Do you think I’m so incapable that I can’t take care of them? She takes it as a provocation.

-I think everyone needs to help to make things easier, I can see that all of this has been heavy for you and I don’t want you to be overwhelmed with any of this, I don’t know if you don’t want a babysitter, we can call my parents, your parents, I don’t think they’ll mind spending time with their grandchildren - Joe tries to fix it.

-They’re our responsibility, I can’t make other people come here, put their lives on hold, because of our decisions, that’s ridiculous - Joe realizes that the conversation isn’t going to get anywhere.

-I think the night was hectic, I’m going to take the kids to class, who wants to go to class with daddy? - He gets their attention and they quickly perk up.

-Joe, go to your training, you're going to be late, you know I take them every day - Amanda asks.

-You know I'm not late, I'll take them and go straight to training, in the meantime you stay here with Peter and Ben - Joe tries to change the routine, seeing that she's not in the best shape to drive by the tired look on her face.

Joe went upstairs, going to get his training equipment and when he came back to his surprise, they had already left.

Amanda didn't need much to realize that it really wasn't the best option to drive, right now with the sun still weak at 7 in the morning and everything too still, but luckily everyone arrived safely, she took the opportunity to stop at a coffee shop and get a coffee to try to stay awake, but it was definitely not the best idea.

They have known each other forever, their parents are friends. After so many years as inseparable friends in their teens, their neighbors, friends, uncles and brothers started saying that they would end up getting married and that in fact, they had always been in love with each other, which made them both very stressed.

They did the same thing when they were 15, they started pretending to hate each other and getting involved with other people to shut everyone up, until they were 17 and Joe said he was going to move to the capital. There was no way to put it off and just accept it. They really liked each other a lot. They didn't date for long, until they decided to get married and give in to their love.

-Well, now that the kids are getting older, you must be dying to start living your own life, right? You were so young when you decided to get married, you were only 18 - A neighbor of Joe's parents was there.

-Now you can have a nanny or put them in various complementary activities and you can have a hobby, maybe even a job, but I think that with your age and lack of experience, it will be difficult 

Amanda felt the glass start to warm her hand, she just watched the lady more like a robot.

-You know, you need to live individually, like something that is only yours, he must love having total control over you, even financially, but that will not be good for your future

The words run through Amanda's already empty and silent mind, who just wanted to sleep.

-Being a trophy wife is amazing, but what comes next? Everyone always criticizes feminists, but if they get divorced, they will have a good structure to start over and normally, they do not hide completely behind the man, they usually have a voice

-Amanda dear, I think you need to start living your life and think about yourself a little" the worried tone makes her wake up.

-Thank you. She said and left in a hurry.

The conversation kept popping in her mind all day, leaving her distracted from everything. She finally began to ask herself what she likes and what she doesn't like. She doesn't know if she likes swimming, running, playing tennis, she doesn't know if she prefers comedy, cooking, horror shows, she doesn't know if she really likes the clothes in her closet or if they're just what she bought because they were appropriate for a mother.

And it was in the midst of so many thoughts and sleep that she didn't notice Peter climbing over the pool railing, she ran to the boy before he ended up hurting himself and falling, either on the floor or in the water.

-Peter, what did I say? It's to sunbathe. You two need to sunbathe, nothing more. She said harshly, returning the boy to the lounge chair.

The afternoon passed and with it the beginning of the night. Amanda began to feel something strange. She walked around the house, lost, without knowing where the feeling came from, until a flash in her mind made her forget Gunner and Ashley at school.

For the first time, Gunner preferred to stay quiet and silent. He didn't want to distract his mother from driving, not after she ran a red light and drove the wrong way.

Joe was informed of what had happened and decided to make a decision.

-Amanda, I'm going to the pharmacy. Do you need anything? He watched her but was speechless.

Since the answer in action was to crack an egg in the sink instead of in the frying pan on the stove.

Joe only needed one thing, a sleeping pill good enough to keep her out for the next few hours.

He poured it into her glass without her seeing and waited for her to drink it.

The medicine didn't take long to take effect, with Amanda passing out in the living room, he cautiously went upstairs with her in his arms and took care of the rest, including something she would hate.

She woke up the next day without knowing where she was, but for the first time in a long time, rested, she looked at the clock and got scared, but Joe tried to calm her down.

-I've already taken care of everything, I'm almost going to training, but first I need to talk to you - He asked.

Amanda just agreed, still dazed, running her hand over her face to try to truly wake up.

-Yesterday you almost crashed the car with you, Ashley and Gunner countless times, that's because I don't know what happened in the morning, if you don't want to accept help from anyone with a good heart, you're going to have to be forced

-Because I can't believe you think it's normal, to forget them at school two hours late or to drive out of control or to let a frying pan catch fire, while the food ends up in the sink, just for pride, who told you that you need to handle everything by yourself and that no one can ever help you? He questions her.

-I never said that, I had suggested a babysitter, but now we're going to do it differently, you have a week, either to talk to your parents, my parents, your brothers to come here or to choose a babysitter, if you keep putting your foot down and insisting on this madness, I'll go after the babysitter myself and make my rules with her - Amanda just listens.

-You're not taking care of anyone by doing this, you're putting everyone at risk, especially yourself. It won't kill you to let me spend the night with Ben. It also won't kill you if I take them to school sometimes. It seems like you don't like me being around them. Sometimes it seems like I'm your enemy. - Joe doesn't hide his discontent.

-I was trying to help you, but now I'm going to do it by force. I hid the car keys. You won't drive until you seem ready to do it. He warns.

-This is ridiculous. A lot happened yesterday. I'm fine now. Amanda defends herself.

-No, you're not. You need to rest your mind and body. You're not even eating because you're so determined that you need to lose too much weight. I found out that you haven't been to that nutritionist in months." Amanda is surprised.

-I don't know if you remember, but part of marriage is taking care of each other - he walks to the door.

-If you want to take a week's vacation somewhere, alone, take a friend, I don't know, go ahead, feel free, I just need you to rest and be well. He smiles as he leaves the room.

Joe and Amanda's wedding anniversary arrived and he made sure to celebrate by taking her out to dinner.

The waiter quickly grabbed a vase to decorate the table with flowers and left the menu with the two of them, Joe chattering the whole time, until Amanda had the courage to tell him everything she was feeling.

-Why didn't you tell me this before, we could have worked it out - he reminds her.

-I've been thinking a lot and I think it's good to have talked about it. Now I need some time for myself, without a shadow of a doubt, and I really think that our marriage is no longer a marriage. You know, I think we can separate and continue living in the same house, but living separately at first, so the children don't think it's so bad, and when they're older we can move out. I don't want it to be traumatic for them. Joe immediately cuts her off, surprised by what she said.

-Have you gone crazy? Are you saying you want to get a divorce on our 10th anniversary? I found out a few minutes ago what you were feeling, after I tried all kinds of approaches and only received your kicks and rudeness, and now you want me to applaud your request for divorce. Listen here, drink this wine, pull yourself together, no one here is going to get separated, they won't go through that, neither will you and I. - Joe turns the glass over, quickly filling another one and turning it over again.

-I need to find myself Joe, I need to find out what I like, what I want - He cuts me off again.

-You're in front of me talking crazy, I think you need therapy to figure that out, I think you need a spa too and a trip to calm down, you can spend a week, two, three, a month, if you want even a year getting to know the world, I'll take care of the kids, if you want to go back to see them that's fine, but we're not going to break up, there's no reason for that, I love you, you love me, you just need some time, if you want to open a store, open it, do whatever you want, it's okay, but we're not getting divorced - Joe says, visibly shaken by what he heard.

-Do you think this will help? - She doubts.

-I'll prove it will - He picks up the box with a gift for her, but stops halfway, putting his hand under his head, visibly shaken.

-Amanda, please don’t leave me, don’t kill me with the knife in our kitchen, I love you so much, I don’t know how to live without you, I don’t know how to describe how important you are to me, if I got where I am, it was because you were with me, supporting me and scolding me whenever I did something wrong on or off the field, if I don’t have you, I’m nothing, I won’t be able to live the rest of my life thinking that I lost you, don’t do this to me - Joe tries to control the tears on his face, since they are in public.

When a week passed and she hadn’t made any decision, when she arrived in Ben’s room after waking up, she came across her parents and sister.

Joe certainly didn’t want to offend her so much as to choose a nanny, but that surprised her.

The day was different, it was certainly good for Amanda, but at the same time reflective, her parents wanted to go pick up Gunner and Ashley, then buy some snacks on the way and spend some time with their grandchildren, while Amanda and Jade, her sister, were chatting with a huge tub of ice cream.

-I think our marriage is in crisis - She laments taking a good spoonful of ice cream.

-Marriage in crisis? Have you looked at Joseph? A marriage with him doesn't go into crisis - Her sister jokes.

-One day I was 18, I was excited to get married and I loved playing basketball, watching comedy series, learning French and the next day I suddenly wake up, I realize I have four children, a husband, I feel like I'm in a nightmare, I ask myself what I did in these ten years, what I really wanted, what was a dream and I see that nothing - Amanda vents.

-You need to take a vacation, go out, enjoy life a little, you have to know how to balance everything, just because you're married and have a ton of kids, doesn't mean you're dead and that's all it is, the worst kind of woman is the one who is limited to being a mother or a wife and no offense, you let yourself be limited to that Amanda agrees.

-That's always been my biggest fear, I love them, but I feel like I'm losing myself and wasting time, I could be experiencing so many things, but I preferred to stay locked up here

-The society we were born into makes us believe that this is the only good destiny for us women, you and all of us were raised to believe this, it's not your fault and you shouldn't feel guilty about wanting to experience different things

-Of course you have your day to day, but you can do something with the kids and then something with Joe and then the two of you can do something alone, it's good for each of you to have different things to do - Jade gives an idea.

-The problem is that I feel like I've lost my individuality and I don't know if I want to stay here, I don't know if I'll be able to just be myself and be comfortable with him - Amanda has some difficulty speaking.

-What do you mean? Jade's eyes widen.

-I stopped my life to do everything he wanted, I don't know if I know how to do anything beyond that, what he wants, I think I'm too weak, I should never have agreed to get married so early, I should have sorted out my life, done something I liked or at least failed trying, instead of letting everything get to this point - She laments.

-Listen here, you two really need to talk about this, but above all you need some time just for yourselves and to discover yourself, even if it means going to therapy, I'm going to stay here for a few days, Joe invited me and dad and mom too, so we'll help you, I'm sure, but don't give up, you don't need to give up your marriage to discover yourself, it can be very important for you to do this by giving you support and encouraging you - the two stand up and hug each other tightly.

The days were certainly calmer and the first thing their parents did was remind Joe and Amanda of the huge table they have, but they don't use it often. They end up sitting at the counter because it's quicker and more practical, but it keeps everyone away. The second thing was that there's no reason to have dinner separately and the third thing was how much lighter the house becomes and the children are happier when the adults aren't overwhelmed and fighting.

It seems that Amanda was able to see everything from a different perspective.

-Joe, I wanted to talk to you. I've thought about that subject. He is surprised and refuses to look at her, afraid of what she's going to say.

-What do you want to do?

-I think we need to go to couples therapy and we need to take the kids too, so they can learn to have a sense of brotherhood and see that Ben isn't to blame for everything. I think you need a day just for yourself too, just like me, we can choose a day for that. Every day is a family day and we take another day just for the two of us. I think I need an activity that I like and I need to occupy my mind with something different. It will be good for all of us. She gives a weak smile, and Joe, relieved, goes to her, hugs her tightly and throws her on the bed.

-Thank you - he says with a relieved voice, leaving a kiss on her cheek.

The two of them stayed there for a while thinking about everything, until Joe has the courage to speak.

-We need to learn to talk when something bothers us. Talking isn't fighting. We need that. It will do us a lot of good. We need to sit down and talk about the day, what we think, what we think, what we want, what one of us did that the other doesn't like. If we talk about everything, it will be okay - He takes her hand firmly.

Maybe the big change isn't necessarily taking something out of our lives, but changing our habits, and that's what Amanda is going to try.

[zachbryanandbooks]

Real conversation I had with my parents

"me and my dad talking about football"

My dad: wow kid i didn't know you liked football so much

My mom from the kitchen: SHE ONLY WATCHES BECAUSE THE PLAYERS ARE HOT

[burrowswomen]

❥ HOPELESSLY DEVOTED ━━━━━ JOE BURROW

: ̗̀➛ word count: 7.9k

: ̗̀➛ warnings: angst & fluff

: ̗̀➛ noor speaks: i cried two times while writing this lol

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

new orleans, 2020. after the national championship.

the music is too loud, the air too warm, the lights flashing in shades of purple and yellow that blur together like a dream you know you’ll forget by morning. the house is packed wall to wall with lsu kids celebrating like the world’s ending. maybe for them, it kind of is—this night, this win, this buzz pulsing through their blood like champagne and euphoria—it won’t ever feel like this again.

but not for you.

you’re sitting alone on a velvet couch in the corner of the room, nursing a can of coke because you couldn’t bring yourself to drink tonight. not when your heart is already off balance. not when he’s here. somewhere. in this house.

joe.

you haven’t seen him since the moment the confetti rained down in the stadium and he was lifted onto shoulders like a king. you watched from the stands, cheering like everyone else, smile plastered on your face while your heart quietly broke in your chest.

you should’ve been over this by now. you’ve tried. god knows you’ve tried.

you went out with other guys. you kissed people you didn’t care about just to feel something different. you looked for flaws in joe—any little ick that could snap you out of it. But none of it worked.

because no matter what, you always end up right back here. in the back of some crowded room, thinking about how he never saw you the way you saw him.

“hey,” a voice says, close—too close—and suddenly he’s there.

joe.

you blink, heart catching in your throat. he’s standing right in front of you, wearing a black hoodie with the sleeves pushed up, curls messy from sweat and celebration. his cheeks are flushed, and his eyes are hazy from drinking, but even drunk, he’s still the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

“you okay?” he asks, tilting his head. his voice is softer now, lower, like it’s meant just for you. “didn’t see you earlier.”

you force a smile, your hands tightening around the can. “yeah, just needed a break from the chaos.”

he nods, then without asking, sits next to you on the couch, thigh brushing against yours like it’s nothing.

but it is something. every inch of you is on fire.

for a moment, there’s just the beat of the music and the sound of your heart pounding in your ears. you glance over at him, about to make some dumb joke to break the tension—but his eyes are already on you.

and they’re not looking away.

his gaze flicks down to your lips.

then back up to your eyes.

and that’s when you feel it.

that pull.

that impossible, undeniable pull that’s been haunting you since the day you met him in a freshman psych lecture at osu and he asked to borrow a pencil.

“joe…” you whisper, like a warning. or maybe a plea.

but he doesn’t say anything. just leans in, slow and unsure, as if testing the waters.

you don’t move. You can’t.

then suddenly—his lips are on yours.

and it’s everything.

it’s soft and rough and clumsy all at once, tasting like whiskey and desperation. one of his hands finds your waist, the other brushes your cheek. your fingers curl into the front of his hoodie like they’re trying to keep this moment from slipping away.

you kiss him back like it’s the only thing that’s ever made sense. like every conversation, every almost-touch, every silent ache you’ve carried for years was just leading to this.

and for one beautiful, unbearable second… you let yourself believe he feels it too.

-

you stir your coffee for the fifth time, watching the cream swirl like it might give you an answer. you can’t stop fidgeting—pressing your nails into your palm under the table, tapping your foot, chewing your bottom lip. anything to distract from the fact that he’s sitting across from you.

joe.

he looks like the night hit him hard. hair shoved under a backwards cap, eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses even though the sky is barely even bright. he’s got that post-party slump in his shoulders, like he’s trying to hold his head up but gravity’s working overtime.

he hasn’t said anything yet. neither have you.

your stomach twists. god, why does this feel like the end of something you never even got to begin?

you peek up at him over your cup. he’s picking at the edge of a napkin, jaw tight. finally, he clears his throat and says, voice low:

“so…”

you force a smile, hollow and tired. “sooo…”

he laughs once—short, awkward. rubs the back of his neck. you already know where this is going. you can feel it in the way he won’t meet your eyes.

“about last night… do you remember anything?”

you take a long sip, stalling. your pulse stutters. you want to pretend you don’t know what he’s talking about. you want to lie, to say you forgot too. but you remember every second. every inch of space between you that disappeared.

"uhh.. no not really"

he takes off his sunglasses, finally looking at you. and god, he still looks like him. the same guy you’ve been hopelessly in love with since you were nineteen. the same guy who held your hand during finals week and never noticed the way your breath caught when he smiled.

joe shifts, and then he says it.

“i’m sorry. for, uh… kissing you. it was a mistake.”

a mistake.

you feel it like a slap—cold and sharp, right in the center of your chest. but you don’t flinch. you don’t let it show.

instead, you laugh. it sounds too loud, too fake. “well, yeah. you were pretty drunk.”

“yeah,” he nods, wincing. “i’m feeling it right about now.”

you stare at your coffee again. the swirling’s stopped.

“good luck with that,” you murmur.

he nods. “yeah. i just… i wanted to clear it up. so there wasn’t any confusion.”

and you smile. again. you smile through the ache, through the cracks in your ribs where the hope used to live. “of course.”

but inside, it’s screaming.

so glad i never told him how i felt.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

it’s been three years.

three years since the kiss. three years since he said it was a mistake.

you’ve changed. at least, that’s what you tell people.

you’ve got your own apartment now. a job that keeps you busy. you go to pilates on sundays and keep a little basil plant on the windowsill. you smile more easily, flirt with waiters, say yes to blind dates your friends set up.

you’re fine. you’re over it. you’re good.

except you’re not.

because every guy you’ve dated since joe has had to live in his shadow.

you try not to do it, but it’s automatic now. someone laughs and you think, joe’s was deeper. someone texts you good morning and you remember how joe used to call you “sunshine” during finals week. someone brushes your hand across the table and you flinch—not because it’s bad, but because it’s not him.

you hate it. you hate yourself for it.

you’ve tried everything—therapy, journaling, deleting old pictures. you even blocked his instagram for a while, hoping out of sight would mean out of mind.

but all it took was one tagged photo on your explore page—him in a suit at some banquet, holding a glass of champagne and smiling—and suddenly you’re eighteen again. knees weak, heart racing, breath caught in your throat like it still belongs to him.

sometimes you wonder if he ever thinks about that night. if he remembers the kiss. the way his hands slid around your waist. the look in his eyes right before it happened.

but then you remember the way he said it. it was a mistake.

like it didn’t mean anything. like you didn’t mean anything.

and you remind yourself—for the hundredth time—that he never knew.

he never knew how hard you loved him in silence. how many nights you laid awake wondering if he’d ever look at you the way you looked at him. how you were always just the friend. always there. always watching. always waiting.

and now, three years later, you still are.

you’re dating someone new. he’s kind. funny. he texts back fast and brings you coffee before work. but you catch yourself staring at him sometimes, searching his face for something that’s not there.

he does everything right. and still, he’s not joe. so you ended it.

you close your eyes one night, curled up on your couch in an oversized hoodie, and you think:

why him?why can’t i let him go?why am i still hopelessly devoted to someone who never even asked me to be?

and there’s no answer.

just that same ache.

the one that never really left.

-

you’re standing in the frozen food aisle, debating between two brands of dumplings, when you hear someone say your name.

casual. surprised. a little disbelieving.

“hey. y/n is that you?”

your breath catches before you even turn around. something in you already knows.

and then—you see him.

joe.

standing there in a hoodie and joggers, hair longer now, a little messier. a basket in one hand, a carton of eggs inside. he looks like a memory you weren’t ready to see again.

you blink, heart stuttering. “hi.”

he smiles, slow and genuine, like he’s truly happy to see you. and god, it kills you how easy he makes it look. like you didn’t spend the past three years trying to stitch yourself back together.

“wow,” he says, laughing under his breath. “you look… wow.”

you smile politely. the kind that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “you too.”

there’s a beat of silence, and for a second, you consider bolting. saying you have plans. pretending your phone is ringing. anything.

but joe, of course, doesn’t give you the chance.

“wanna grab a coffee after this?”

you open your mouth to give a soft no, already piecing together some fake excuse—got work, meeting a friend, feeling sick, anything—but then he tilts his head and says,

“c’mon. like old friends.”

and those three words? they land like a punch to the gut.

like old friends.

you hesitate. then nod, barely. “sure.”

-

the coffee shop hasn’t changed. smells like burnt espresso and vanilla syrup. the same mismatched chairs, the same indie playlist humming through the speakers.

you sit across from joe, clutching a paper cup like it’s the only thing keeping you grounded.

he’s smiling, talking about something light—his off-season plans, some fishing trip he bailed on, how his mom keeps sending him cooking recipes like he’s 17 instead of 26.

you try to listen. you really do.

but all you can think about is how familiar this feels.

how easy it is to fall back into this rhythm. how good he looks in the afternoon light. how much you wish you were over him.

you smile, but it doesn’t reach your chest. not really.

and then, out of nowhere, he goes:

“why’d you cut me out?”

you blink. “excuse me?”

joe leans back, staring at you with this open, almost hurt expression. “we were best friends. and then after graduation… nothing. no texts. no calls. you blocked me on instagram.”

you look down at your coffee. your throat goes dry.

“joe…”

he waits.

you take a breath. “i just… life got busy.”

he raises an eyebrow.

you try again. “i was trying to figure some things out. i didn’t mean anything by it.”

another lie.

he nods slowly, like he doesn’t believe you but he won’t push. “i missed you,” he says softly.

and that breaks something in you.

but still—you smile. you deflect. you ask about his family, his latest game,his teammates, and somehow, the rest of the afternoon melts into something that almost feels normal. like the old days. laughter, shared memories, stories you’ve both told a thousand times before.

you forget, for a moment, that you ever lost him.

-

but then you’re back in your apartment.

the sun’s long gone by now, and everything is dipped in this soft, tired blue. you don’t bother turning on the lights. don’t take off your jacket. you just step inside, close the door gently behind you, and lean your back against it.

your keys are still in your hand. your heart might still be with him.

the silence is thick. no music. no tv. no distractions. just the hum of the fridge and the echo of his voice still tangled in your head.

like old friends.

you let your head fall back against the wood. eyes closed. chest tight.

you were fine this morning. maybe not fine, but functioning. holding it together. the version of yourself you’ve trained so well—collected, calm, unbothered. and then he showed up. in the middle of the damn frozen food aisle.

and now?

you feel cracked open. like your heart remembered what it was like to be full, just for a second. like you’d been starving for something and didn’t realize it was him.

the coffee shop felt like a portal. like no time had passed. the way he smiled. the way he teased you like nothing had changed. you fell back into it so easily—almost like your body knew how to be around him, even if your mind screamed don’t go there again.

and now you’re here. in the quiet. in the dark.

you drop your keys on the floor. they clatter like they’re trying to make a point.

you slide down the door until you’re sitting on the hardwood, knees pulled to your chest, jacket still zipped.

and you think about everything.

the kiss. the way he looked at you right before it happened. like maybe, for a second, he saw you. the next morning. the word mistake.

you think about how long you spent convincing yourself you were over it. over him. the dates. the distance. the silence.

and now, it all floods back. like a dam broke. like you never really healed—you just put a bandage over something still bleeding.

you press your forehead to your knees. breathe slow.

and then, in the quietest part of you, the truth comes out. the one you don’t say out loud.

you never really left.

because it was always him. even when he didn’t know. even when he called it nothing. even now.

and you whisper it, not to the room, not to the walls—just to yourself.

“god, i’m still so hopelessly devoted to him.”and it hurts. because it’s still true.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

joe's back at his house, but it doesn’t feel like it.

he’s got a game on in the background—something random, something loud. it’s not really about watching. it’s about filling the silence. giving his thoughts something to compete with.

but it’s not working.

he leans back on his couch, phone in hand, your name still sitting at the top of his recent messages. not because you texted—but because he thought about it. thumb hovering. typing, deleting. again. again. again.

you looked different today.

not in a bad way. not like you’d changed into someone else. just… grown. steadier. quieter. a little more careful with your words. and something about that hit him harder than he expected.

you were always open with him. always honest. a little chaotic, a little fire in your laugh. but today you were softer. like you were holding parts of yourself back.

and it messed him up.

he can’t stop thinking about how it used to be. the late nights at OSU, cramming for exams you barely studied for. the way you used to steal bites of his food without asking. how you’d poke fun at him for taking football too seriously and then show up to every single game like it was life or death.

you were his best friend.

and somewhere along the way, he lost you.

he never knew why. never understood it. one day you were inseparable and the next… you were gone. your number still worked, but you stopped replying. you blocked him on instagram. you disappeared without a word.

and now, three years later, you’re sitting across from him at a coffee shop acting like it didn’t break him a little.

he runs a hand over his face, restless.

“why’d you cut me out?” he’d asked you. and the look in your eyes? he hasn’t stopped replaying it since.

you were surprised. defensive. quiet. you gave him an excuse. something soft. something safe.

but joe’s not stupid.

he saw the way your eyes dropped when he said your name. the way your smile faltered when he joked like old times. the way you fidgeted with your sleeve, like your body wanted to say something you wouldn’t let out.

and then he thinks about that night. the kiss. the way he pulled you close without thinking. the way you kissed him back like you meant it. like it wasn’t just a drunken mistake.

but he was scared. or confused. or both. so the next morning, he said what he thought you wanted to hear. he told you it didn’t mean anything.

and god, he regrets that now.

he wonders if that’s why you left. if he was the reason. if he hurt you more than he ever realized.

he looks down at his phone again. no new messages.

and he thinks, maybe for the first time: i miss her. not just the old her. the her i saw today. the her i pushed away.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

it’s been a year.

a year since you and joe reconnected.

a year of quiet text messages and now not awkward conversations. a year of meeting up for coffee, going to his games again, pretending it’s just the same as before. a year of slowly rebuilding what you had—or what you thought you had—before everything changed.

and god, it still hurts.

because you can pretend. you can laugh at his stupid jokes. you can sip your drink like it doesn’t matter when he texts you at 2 a.m. to tell you about his day. but every time you meet up, a small part of you breaks.

you can’t help it. you never stopped loving him. and now you’re trying to be his friend. his best friend. even though the word feels like a weight in your chest.

today, you’re sitting at your usual spot—at the corner of the café, just like old times. joe’s across from you, leaning back in his chair, a frown tugging at his lips. he’s been quiet, almost distant, for the last few minutes, but you’re too used to it by now. he’s always had a way of zoning out, getting lost in his head.

and then, like he’s just made up his mind, he looks at you with a seriousness that almost makes you nervous.

“hey,” he says, voice steady. “i need your help.”

you raise an eyebrow. “with what?”

he shifts, suddenly unsure. “well… there’s this girl…”

and that’s when everything inside you goes still.

you were waiting for this, weren’t you? you knew it would come. you knew that one day, the girl he would talk about wasn’t you. but it still cuts like a knife anyway.

you force a smile. “yeah? what’s up?”

joe talks—his words rushing out like he’s been holding them in for too long. it’s all about her—this girl he’s met recently at an event, someone he’s been thinking of for a while now. how he doesn’t know how to approach her. how he’s been thinking about asking her out, but he’s not sure what to say. how he knows you’re good with words, how you’ve always known what to do when it comes to this.

you nod, pretending your heart isn’t hammering in your chest, pretending you aren’t dying inside. because this is who you are now. this is what you agreed to be. the friend who watches him fall for someone else. the friend who helps him get the girl of his dreams.

“yeah,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “of course. I’ll help.”

and he smiles at you. It’s the same smile he’s always given you, the one that used to make everything feel so easy. but now? now it feels like the weight of the world.

you don’t hear the rest of what he says. it’s all tuned out. you’re smiling, nodding, pretending, but it’s like his voice fades into the background. because in your head, it’s all you can think about.

why her? why not me?

but you don’t ask. you don’t speak up. because you’re his friend. and you’ll always be his friend. no matter how much it hurts.

you swallow the ache in your chest. “so,” you say, forcing a laugh. “what’s the plan?”

joe goes into full detail now, eyes lighting up as he talks about this girl, her laugh, the way she looks at him. and you listen, like you care, like it doesn’t tear you apart to hear him talk about her with such excitement.

and when the conversation shifts to logistics, to how he’s going to ask her out, how he’s nervous and unsure—you help him. you give him advice. you tell him what to say, how to ask her out in a way that’s cute and funny. because that’s what friends do, right?

but inside? you’re dying. you’re crumbling.

and you hate yourself for it.

because if he was asking you out? if he was talking to you the way he’s talking about her? you’d give anything for that.

but you don’t say it. you don’t even let him see the hurt.

and when you leave the café later, after everything’s been decided and joe’s thanking you a million times for helping him, you go home. back to your apartment. back to the same empty space. back to the silence.

and you try to hold it together. you try to smile when you look in the mirror. you tell yourself it’s fine. that you’re fine. but deep down? you know you’re not.because you’re still hopelessly devoted to someone who will never see you the way you see him. and you know you always will be.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

you’re walking around town, running errands, trying not to think about everything. it’s been a weird week, a mess of him and her and pretending like it’s fine. like you’re okay. but you’re not. and you know it.

you pass by a florist shop, the kind with that sweet, earthy smell of fresh flowers and soft green leaves. on impulse, you step inside. maybe it’s because you’ve always liked flowers. maybe it’s because you’ve never really bought any for yourself, always waiting for someone else to do it. but today? today, you don’t care.

you pick up a bouquet of pink tulips, their petals soft and vibrant, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you let yourself feel something other than the ache in your chest. they’re pretty. they make you feel like maybe you could be pretty, too.

and then, out of nowhere, you hear it. a voice. low, smooth, almost like it’s been there forever. “they’re pretty, just like you.”

you freeze, and your breath catches. it’s sudden. unfamiliar.but when you turn, you’re met with the last thing you expect:

a guy. tall, with dark hair and striking green eyes that seem to hold something in them—something you can’t quite place. and he’s standing too close, like he’s been watching you for a while.

you raise an eyebrow, trying to push down the flutter in your chest. “oh, really?” you ask, playing it off. your voice is steady, though you feel your heart race a little.

he steps closer, that confident smirk pulling at his lips. “oh, i know so,” he says, eyes glinting with something playful. and you laugh, half out of surprise, half out of… maybe something else. it’s new. it’s different.

he keeps talking, something about tulips, about how they symbolize perfect love, about how he’s always thought they’re the best flowers in the shop. and for a second, it’s like nothing else matters. like there’s no joe, no her, no lingering pain. just you. just this guy. and the sound of his voice.

the conversation flows easily, surprisingly natural. he makes you smile, and for a moment, you forget that you’ve spent years trying to forget. that you’ve spent all this time, devoted to someone else.

you’re actually listening to him. laughing at his jokes. and when he asks, casually, “so… how about dinner? i’d love to take you out sometime,” it’s like your heart stops. it skips a beat. you stare at him for a moment, unsure of what to say, unsure if you should even say anything at all.

but you find yourself smiling. something small. something hopeful. maybe you’re finally moving on.

“yeah,” you say, voice quiet but steady. “i’d like that.”

and as he smiles back at you, it’s the strangest feeling. like maybe, just maybe, you could be more than just hopelessly devoted to someone who will never feel the same. maybe this is the start of something new. maybe it’s time to let go.

but then, in the back of your mind, you feel that familiar ache again. and you can’t help but wonder if you’re doing this for the right reasons. if it’s just about moving on—or if you’re just trying to forget what you’ll never have.

but you push it down. for now, you’re here. with him. with a new start. and maybe that’s enough.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

dinner with louis went way better than you expected.

you weren’t nervous going in, just… guarded. you’ve been on enough half-hearted dates to know how these things go. the polite laughs, the dry silences, the dull ache of disappointment. but this—this was different.

louis was sweet. not in a try-hard kind of way, but genuinely thoughtful. he listened when you talked, laughed at the right moments, and didn’t once make you feel like you had to perform. his green eyes didn’t wander. his attention stayed on you the entire night.

you should be happy. you are happy. because the craziest thing happened during that dinner—you didn’t compare him to joe. not once.

you weren’t looking for the ways they were different. you weren’t searching for some secret trace of the boy you’ve been in love with for years. you were just… there. with louis. and that felt like progress.

you walk into the coffee shop a few days later with a little more ease in your step, not even realizing the shift in you. but joe notices.

he’s already seated at your usual table, hoodie pulled over his head, coffee cup between his palms. he looks up when you walk in, and it hits him like a punch to the chest—you’re glowing.

not just in the i got sleep last night kind of way. but the someone’s been making me feel good about myself kind of way. and it’s not him.

he can feel it before he even knows why.

you sit down across from him, grinning at something you’re remembering. and he’s watching you like he can’t quite figure out what’s changed.

“what’s got you so happy?” he asks, trying to keep his tone light.

you blink, caught off guard, then smile. soft. warm.

“well…” you trail off for a second, your mind flickering to louis’s smile, his hand brushing yours across the table, the way he looked at you like you were the only person in the room.

“i… may be seeing someone.”

joe stills. just for a second. you don’t notice, but his fingers tighten slightly around his cup.

oh.

that’s the first thing he thinks. but what he says?

“so y/n finally found herself a boyfriend.” his voice is easy, teasing, but there's something behind it. something tight.

you laugh, shaking your head. “well, he’s not my boyfriend yet. we’re just talking, for now. but… maybe.”

and you say it like you believe it. like you’re hopeful. like you’re open to it becoming something.

and joe doesn’t know why that makes his chest feel like it’s collapsing in on itself. because he’s supposed to be happy. you’re his best friend. and you’re happy. so he should be happy.

but he’s not.

he doesn’t say much for the rest of the coffee hangout. you talk like you always do, but his thoughts are somewhere else. his laughs are slower, quieter. and every time you smile, he feels that same gnawing feeling crawl deeper into his chest.you’re slipping through his fingers, and the worst part is— he never even realized he was holding on.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

joe didn’t sleep that night. he just lays there in the dark, staring at the ceiling, listening to the soft hum of the air conditioner and the occasional car passing on the street outside.

but it’s not the sounds that keep him up. it’s your face. your voice. the way you said “i may be seeing someone,” like it was just a casual update. like it didn’t send something sharp and unfamiliar right through his chest.

he sits up around 2 a.m., elbows on his knees, running both hands through his hair like that’ll help sort out the mess in his head.

what the hell is wrong with him?

you’re his best friend. you’ve always been his best friend. from college game days and late-night study sessions, to you calling him after every game—even when he didn’t answer right away. especially when he didn’t answer.

you were always there.

but he never thought of it as more. or at least… he told himself he didn’t.

but now, the idea of someone else holding your hand, someone else making you laugh, someone else being the one you text goodnight—

it makes him sick.

and the worst part? he knows he has no one to blame but himself.

so he calls ja’marr the next day. because if there’s one person who won’t bullshit him, it’s him.

“yo,” ja’marr answers on the second ring, voice still scratchy with sleep. “what’s up?”

“you busy?” joe asks.

“no. but if this is about what legos you should buy again, i’m hanging up.”

“it’s not,” joe says. “i just... i need to talk. in person.”

twenty-five minutes later, joe’s sitting on his couch, nervously spinning a coaster between his fingers while ja’marr sips his drink like he’s bracing for a bomb to drop.

“alright,” ja’marr says, setting his cup down. “what’s going on with you?”

joe takes a breath.

“it’s y/n.”

ja’marr doesn’t react. not yet. just nods once, slow. “what about her?”

joe swallows. “she’s... seeing someone. some guy. i don’t know his name, but—he makes her happy.”

he tries to sound okay with it. he fails.

ja’marr raises a brow, leaning back. “so?”

“so, i don’t know,” joe mutters. “i haven’t stopped thinking about it. about her. since she told me. it’s like... i can’t breathe.”

ja’marr stares at him for a moment, then exhales hard through his nose.

“bro. i’ve been telling you since LSU.”

joe frowns. “telling me what?”

“that you’ve been blind,” ja’marr says bluntly. “you never saw it. but i did. everyone did.”

joe blinks. “what are you talking about?”

“i’m talking about her,” ja’marr says, sitting forward now, like he’s been holding this in for years. “the way she looked at you. the way she talked about you. man, she was in love with you. for years.”

joe feels his stomach flip.

“you’re wrong,” he says, but his voice is weak.

“no, i’m not,” ja’marr replies. “she’s like a sister to me, okay? she may not have kept in touch with you after that night, but she did with me. we talked. she visited. i saw it. i saw her. every time she looked at you, it was like the whole damn world stopped.”

joe’s heart stutters. he stays quiet.

“but you?” ja’marr shakes his head. “you never noticed. you always friendzoned her. brushed her off. treated her like she’d always be there. and when she wasn’t anymore, you didn’t even ask why.”

joe looks down at his hands.

“i kissed her,” he says suddenly.

ja’marr pauses. “what?”

“after the national championship. at the afterparty,” joe says quietly. “we were in the corner. i was drunk. and i kissed her. i don’t even know how it happened, but i remember it. every second of it.”

ja’marr just watches him, listening.

“and the next morning, we were at that little café down the street. and i told her it was a mistake.” he closes his eyes, jaw clenched. “i told her i was sorry.”

“and what did she say?”

joe swallows. “she said i was drunk. she laughed it off. said she didn’t remember anything.” his voice cracks. “but she did. i know she did.”

ja’marr lets out a slow breath. “and you’ve been pretending it didn’t happen ever since?”

joe nods.

“no wonder she cut you off,” ja’marr mutters.

joe flinches.

“you broke her heart, man. and she still showed up for you after. still tried to be your friend. and now that she’s finally letting herself be happy with someone else, now you’re realizing how you feel?”

joe sinks back against the couch, completely silent. it’s like everything’s crashing down at once. every moment. every sign. every word you ever said.

he thought you were just being sweet. just being you. but now he sees it. every time you smiled through your disappointment. every time you stayed up waiting for a reply. every time you told him you were fine when you weren’t.

and he missed it. all of it.

he pulls out his phone, stares at a message thread he hasn’t touched in days.

the girl he’s been casually seeing. the one he hasn’t stopped comparing to you.

hey. you’re amazing, but i can’t do this. my heart’s somewhere else. i’m really sorry.

he hits send.

and then, finally, he says it.

“i think i’ve been in love with her this whole time.”

ja’marr doesn’t smile. doesn’t gloat. he just nods. “yeah. i know.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

you really thought you were getting there. for the first time in years, there was someone else.

louis was gentle. he laughed at your jokes. he opened car doors. he remembered how you took your coffee and never made you feel like you were asking for too much.

he made you feel... wanted.

and for a while, that was enough. you liked being around him. you liked the way he looked at you like you were something rare. like you were his.

but then the quiet came.

the moments when your thoughts weren’t being drowned out by noise or newness or the excitement of something beginning. and in those moments— he came back. not louis. joe.

his name would echo in your head in the worst of ways. his laugh would find its way into the back of your mind when louis told a joke. his damn cologne scent would hit you like a truck when a stranger passed you in the grocery store.

and god—you tried.

you tried so hard not to see it. not to feel it.

but love, real love, doesn’t care about logic. or timing. or whether or not it makes sense.

your heart... your heart never left joe.

so on a thursday night, in your tiny apartment, with warm lights and the smell of garlic and basil in the air, it all comes undone.

you’re in the kitchen with louis. you’re both barefoot, chopping vegetables for dinner, laughing about some terrible movie you’d half-watched the night before.

it should be perfect. you should be happy.

but your smile fades as he moves around the kitchen like he belongs there. like this could be his future.

and that ache in your chest twists until it’s unbearable. you can’t keep pretending. not to him. and definitely not to yourself.

“hey,” you say quietly, wiping your hands on a towel. “can we... sit for a second?”

louis looks up, eyebrows pulling together, but he nods. you both take a seat on the couch, the tv humming low in the background.

you look down at your hands, twisting your fingers together.

“louis, i need to tell you something,” you begin, your voice barely above a whisper. “and i need you to know it has nothing to do with you. like—nothing. you’ve been... incredible.”

he’s quiet. listening.

“but,” you continue, “my heart... it’s not in this. not the way it should be.” you blink, your eyes stinging already. “it’s somewhere else.”

and louis—sweet, wonderful louis—doesn’t flinch. he just nods, like a part of him knew.

you cover your face with your hands, voice cracking, “i’m so mad at myself. i’ve been trying to let him go for years. years. and i still can’t. and the worst part is... he was never even mine.”

tears roll freely now, and louis reaches for you, pulling you into a warm, steady hug. you sink into his chest, shaking with the force of it all finally leaving you.

he rubs your back gently, resting his chin on top of your head. “he’ll be stupid not to realize it,” he says quietly.

you let out a watery laugh, breath hitching. “that’s the funniest thing i’ve heard all day.”

you sit like that for a while, just breathing, letting the truth finally settle in the air between you. it hurts. god, it hurts. but somehow it feels lighter now.

you help finish dinner. you eat together. not as a couple, but as two people who gave it an honest try.

and when it’s time for him to go, you wrap your arms around him and hug him tightly. “thank you,” you whisper. for being kind. for seeing me. for letting me go.

he smiles, presses a kiss to the top of your head, and says, “go find him.”

and then he leaves.

and you’re standing in your apartment, barefoot, with the ghost of something good lingering behind— and that old ache in your chest that you finally stop trying to hide.you know who your heart belongs to. now the question is— does he finally know it too?

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

you’re just about to call it a night.

your makeup is off, your hoodie’s too big, and your hair’s tied back in the messy way you only do when you’re truly home for the night. the apartment is quiet—soft jazz hums in the background, a candle flickers lazily on your counter, and the world outside your windows has already tucked itself in.

your hands are under warm water, rinsing the last of the day off your face, when the knock comes.

three of them.

firm, steady, not tentative like a neighbor or delivery guy.

your heart skips. your first instinct is denial. no way. it’s too late for company, and definitely too late for him.

but then comes the second wave. the pull. the ache. the ridiculous, impossible hope.

you walk toward the door slowly. each step feels heavier than the last. you press your palm to the door for a second—like you need one last breath of peace—then twist the handle and pull it open.

and there he is.

joe.

he’s standing there in a gray hoodie and joggers, slightly damp hair pushed back, like he ran a hand through it too many times. his eyes flick up to yours, then down again. he looks nervous. not his usual charming kind of nervous. this is something deeper. more fragile.

you don’t say anything. you just take a step back and open the door wider.

he walks in slowly like he’s unsure he has the right to.

“you okay?” you ask softly, shutting the door behind him.

he doesn’t answer right away. just stands there in the middle of your living room, staring at the floor, then at your shelf, then at you.

“i’ve been thinking,” he finally says, voice quiet.

you fold your arms across your chest, more for comfort than anything else.

“about what?”

joe lets out a breath. it’s shaky.

“everything.”

he looks at you again, and this time, the weight behind it nearly crushes you.

“do you remember the night of the national championship?” your stomach drops. your fingers curl tighter around your sleeves.

you nod slowly. “i remember.”

“i can’t stop thinking about that night,” he says. “that night.”

your throat tightens. “joe—”

“just let me talk for a second,” he cuts in gently. “please.”

you nod. he’s still standing, but now he’s pacing a little—like if he stands still too long, the truth might swallow him whole.

“i kissed you that night because i wanted to,” he says. “not because i was drunk. not because of the adrenaline. not because of some random impulse. i kissed you because i’d been wanting to for years.”

your breath catches.

he keeps going, eyes on the ground now. “and when you said you didn’t remember, i panicked. i thought i’d ruined everything. so i told you it was a mistake.” he stops pacing. “but it wasn’t. not even close.”

the silence that follows is thick and loud.

“joe...” you whisper.

“i missed you,” he says, stepping closer. ““i missed you every day,” joe says, voice cracking. “every time i laughed, or saw something you would’ve loved, i thought about calling you. texting you. showing up.”

the silence is thick, heavy, soaked in years of everything unspoken.

“i miss you more than i thought was possible. and when we found each other again, it felt like fate or something stupid like that. but i still didn’t say anything because i figured... you moved on. i figured you were done.”

his voice breaks then. just barely. just enough for you to notice.

“but seeing you with someone else—seeing you happy with him—it messed me up more than i expected. because it finally hit me. what i lost. what i gave up when i told you it meant nothing.”

you’re frozen. your eyes are glassy. your chest is caving in with every word.

“i thought i could be your friend again,” he says, taking another step. “i really thought i could do it. but i can’t. because every time you laugh, i feel it in my bones. and every time you talk about louis, i want to be him. i want to be the one who gets to love you out loud.”

your lip trembles.

he’s in front of you now. just a few inches away. and god, it’s the same smell—clean laundry, a little citrus, a little him.

“i’m sorry it took me this long,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “i’m sorry i didn’t see it back then. or maybe i did and just didn’t let myself believe it. but i love you, y/n. i’m in love with you. and i’ve been carrying it around for so long it hurts.”

you don’t realize you’re crying until he reaches up and gently wipes a tear from your cheek with his thumb.

“say something,” he whispers.

and for a second, you can’t.

but then you breathe. and everything that’s been sitting in your chest for years starts to pour out.

“i remembered that night,” you say, voice thick. “i remembered everything. and when you said it was a mistake... i tried so hard to believe you. to convince myself it didn’t matter. but it did. it always did.”

joe blinks, stunned.

“i’ve been in love with you since ohio state,” you admit. “and every time i tried to move on, you were there. in every laugh. every comparison. every almost-love that never measured up.”

his hands find yours, squeezing tightly.

“i hated that i couldn’t let go of someone i never even had. but i did have you, didn’t i? maybe not officially. maybe not in the way i wanted. but you’ve always been mine, joe. even when it wasn’t real.”

he steps forward. so close now. your foreheads almost touching.

“it was always real,” he says. “i just didn’t know how to hold it.”

and this time, when he kisses you—

it’s not rushed. it’s not confused. it’s not goodbye. it’s soft. certain. aching and healing all at once.

his lips on yours say all the things you both left unsaid for years.

when you finally pull away, he presses his forehead to yours and laughs—breathless, relieved, overwhelmed.

“you’re glowing again,” he murmurs.

you smile, tears slipping freely now.

“so are you.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

the sunlight creeps through the window before the alarm does.

but you're already awake.

not in a rushed, anxious way. just… present. the way you get when you’re deeply content without even realizing it. there’s a soft hum of life outside, birds chirping and traffic rolling by in the distance, but inside this room, it’s quiet. warm. still.

and then there’s joe.

his arm is heavy across your waist, his face buried into your shoulder, breathing slow and even. you don’t want to wake him. not yet. not when he looks so peaceful. he always says he’s a morning person, but ever since you started staying over, he sleeps deeper. like he finally knows he’s safe.

your hand gently finds his, fingers brushing over his knuckles.

“you’re staring again,” his voice rasps, groggy and low.

you smile. “you’re imagining things.”

he peeks up at you with that sleepy, half-lidded gaze, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “nah. i know the feeling. i do it too.”

“do what?”

“stare. like i can’t believe it’s real.”

your chest tightens at that. because you get it. how sometimes you’ll be brushing your teeth and he’ll lean in the doorway just to look at you. or how he’ll pull you closer on the couch during movies, like he’s afraid you’ll slip away again. like he still can’t believe you’re here for good.

he reaches up and tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. “hey.”

“hm?”

“i love you.”

you smile softly. “i know.”

he laughs, shaking his head. “no but seriously. i don’t think i’ll ever stop saying it. not after all the years we wasted.”

you lean down and kiss him, slow and certain.

“we didn’t waste them,” you say quietly. “we just… needed time to get it right.”

“still wish i figured it out sooner.”

“me too,” you admit. “but if we did, we might’ve never ended up here.”

and “here” is perfect.

coffee mugs with lipstick stains and his football hoodie hanging off the back of your chair. saturday farmer’s markets and late-night kitchen dances. shared playlists and inside jokes and sleepy road trips. texting each other from across the room just to be dramatic.

it’s in the quiet touches, the lingering glances, the way you both fold into each other like muscle memory.

you’re home. and so is he.

joe props himself up on his elbow, studying you for a long second.

“you know, i used to think you’d never look at me like this.”

you blink, surprised. “what do you mean?”

“like… like you see me. really see me.”

you reach out and cup his face. “i always saw you, joe. i was just waiting for you to see me back.”

his lips press against your palm. and you swear, in this moment, he’s never looked more sure of anything.

“well,” he says, eyes locked on yours. “i do. i see you now.”

and god, it’s so full circle you could cry. because it was always you. it was always him.

and now, finally— you both know it.