#also I was not expecting this to be a joe song | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

starsinthesky5 · 5 months ago

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nothing's gonna hurt you baby || joe burrow x reader

description: the first game of the season doesn't go as planned and it kills you to see joe like this. you can't help but feel deja vu...

a/n: ahem, is this thing on 🎤🎤. i'm backkkkk… after a much-needed tiny break (not planned just life getting in the way). this is a little something i cooked up! still working on "taste" which is a slow work in progress but that's the main next fic that'll be coming soon!

as always, thanks for reading & showing love :)))) i hope this wasn’t too much yapping and nonsense lol. the smut isnt my best because i wrote it while i was half asleep but i hope you enjoy it. there’s also plenty of song references throughout the fic (biggest one and the inspiration being this CAS song)

warnings: angst, fluff, smut. that's literally the whole fic :)

word count: 12.2 k

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You leaned back against the wall across from the entrance to the locker rooms, anxiously picking at a thumbnail on your finger as you waited for your boyfriend to come out so you two could go home. You were standing in your orange halter crop top with a little '9' embroidered on the bottom left side and matching white jean shorts with the same '9' embroidered in orange on the back right pocket. The '9' on your shorts was a little bigger than the one on your top which Joe loved because according to him ‘everyone knows who your ass belongs to’. His adorable possessive nature was always something you admired and appreciated. He was very secure in your relationship and knew nobody would take you from him, but that didn't stop him from ensuring everyone knew you were his at any chance he got.

You were also wearing orange stiletto knee-high boots which adds to the overall orange vibe of your game-day outfit. The theme was 'open in orange' so you were wearing as much orange as you could possibly make look cute. Your '9' necklace was the only piece of jewelry you had around your neck, and your wrists were decked out with bracelets given to you by Joe–each one even more polished and expensive than the previous one, and various rings on your fingers. Your favorite one, the beautiful promise ring Joe gave you for your 2nd anniversary, shined brighter than any of the jewelry you had on. It was a ‘secret garden’ inspired ring, one of your favorite books of all time.

There was a growing pit in your stomach as you stood there gazing at the large ‘B’ on the wall outside the locker room, a slow-burning sensation that started about two minutes into the game, and it was only getting bigger as the minutes passed by. By the end of the game, you were the most on edge you had ever been in your entire life.

Since this was Joe's first real game back after his wrist injury, your anxiety was already pretty bad by the time you got to the stadium. Your brain was swarmed with 'what-if?' scenarios and it was eating you alive. Joe, however, seemed the exact opposite of you. He was completely calm, normal, and focused like this was any other game. His peaceful temperament wasn't surprising since he had always been like this before every game but it also should've been expected since he worked through most of his emotions with you the night before and didn’t have anything left to get out. You on the other hand did a complete 360; you were so calm with him last night but right now you were on the verge of ripping your eyelashes out.

Flashback to the night before

You reached over to grab your glass of water, taking a big sip to help wash down the spicy chicken you were eating for dinner. You looked up at Joe as you were swallowing your water, noting how he was playing around with his food on his unusually full plate. You had been eating for almost 15 minutes and by now, his plate should be empty given how much of an animal he was once dinner rolled around.

“Not hungry?” you broke the unusual silence and asked.

Joe's eyes glanced up to meet yours, his cheeks burning because you took note of his behavior, which you weren't supposed to. “Uhh, not really,” he sighed as he placed his fork down and leaned back in his chair, his sweaty hands sliding up and down his thighs out of nervousness.

“You do know you have a game tomorrow, right?” you chuckled as you placed your fork down and leaned back in your chair like he was. “You need all the protein you can get,”.

“...Y- yeah, I know,” Joe mumbled after a few seconds of uneasy silence.

You instantly noticed the change in his body language at the mention of the game; the way his eyes fell down to his lap after his mumbling response, the way he started bouncing his left leg, his shoulders tensing up a little bit, the way he was constantly doing something with his hands as if he was uncomfortable, the way he was chewing at his bottom lip. These were all things Joe did when he was feeling anxious.

But why was he anxious?

“Hey, you okay?” you asked while leaning forward again, his body language making you worry.

“Yeah, I'm fine,” he swallowed, still not meeting your eyes. He knew all it took was for you to get one look at his eyes to figure out he was lying and he really didn't want to burden you with his complicated emotions tonight.

“He’s lying,” you thought to yourself. The fact that he was avoiding eye contact with you was a dead giveaway. “Joe?” you said while lowering your head to get into his view.

“Yeah?” he said, his voice slightly trembling as he finally looked into your eyes.

“Why are you lying to me?” you said as your face dropped at the sight of his tired eyes and shaky voice.

“I’m not ly-,” he began to say before you interrupted him.

“Yeah, you are,” you interrupted. “I know you, remember. I know you better than you know yourself,” you softly laughed.

You weren’t wrong there, you did know Joe better than he knew himself and he was the first one to admit it. You knew exactly what he was thinking, exactly how to put his feelings into words even when he couldn’t do so himself, and exactly how to handle him. There was a reason why you were the only person he let into the bubble that he had around himself once football started back up. You were his shelter in the hurricane that became his life once he was back on the field and without you, Joe would be a mess.

Your response earned no reaction from Joe, he just sat there in silence and continued to bounce his leg up and down as he started to play with the wristbands on his wrist, yet another anxiety-related mannerism.

You let out a tired breath, “I’m not doing this, I can’t have him shut me out again,” you thought to yourself before scooting your chair back, walking around the dining table, and sitting down on the seat next to him. You turned your chair to face him and grabbed his hands, feeling the thin layer of sweat that coated his palms which made your heart hurt.

“Joe, it’s just us right now. Nothing’s gonna hurt you baby, talk to me,” you said while giving his hands a soft squeeze. You were feeling deja vu right now, you found yourself in the same situation you found yourself in many times over the early months of the off-season, only then it was 10 times worse than it was right now.

Joe looked into your eyes, his body feeling heavy as self-doubt, anxiety, and fear crept into his mind. He was nervous about tomorrow’s game. Joe had never been nervous about a game like this and you were sitting in front of him, trying to get him to talk which you shouldn’t need to ‘try’ to do, he should be openly talking to you right now about his feelings. He always let you into the bubble, so why was it so hard for him to do it right now?

He realized that he was shutting down again, just like he had when he first got injured back in November. He didn’t want to go back to that dark place again, especially since coming out of it was a struggle that affected you both very badly. “I’m scared,” he choked out a few seconds later, trying his best to push through the wall he was unknowingly building again.

“Why?” you quietly asked as you felt your heart shatter because of the tone of his voice. You hated seeing him like this, it broke your heart to see him like this. You moved your hand up to cup his neck, the pads of your fingers were softly rubbing his tan skin which was a gentle action that you knew would calm him down.

“It’s my first game back from injury. An injury that could’ve easily ended my career. It should’ve ended my career,” he said while lifting his hand to wipe a stray tear from his eye.

“But it didn’t,” you smiled. “It didn’t end your career then and it won’t end your career now,”.

“How do you know that? I haven’t played in a real game since November. I haven’t gotten hit yet, I haven’t gotten sacked yet, and I haven’t been putting that much pressure on my hand. Tomorrow could easily be the last game of my career. Just one wrong move and-,”.

“No.” you interrupted. “You’re not doing that. Not on my watch,” you sternly said, trying to prevent him from getting too far inside his head about everything. Overthinking was his worst enemy.

“I’m being realistic, Y/N. Who knows if I’ll be the same Joe I was before,” he said while blinking away a few tears.

“You don’t need to be the same Joe you were before,” you soothed while continuing to rub his neck. “What you went through was unlike anything anyone has seen before, if people are expecting you to get right back to where you left off then they have no heart or brains. You’ll get to where you need to be, I promise. Things like this take time,” you added. “The Joe you are now is more than enough. You have grown in many ways that you might not have been able to unless you went through what you went through after November. You’ve worked on yourself and become more open, honest, and loose. You’ve put in the work on the field, in the weight room, in training, and even at home. You’re coming out of this a better person and a better player. A better Joe,”.

“I just don’t want to let anyone down. What if we lose tomorrow? With the slow start narrative getting louder and the aftermath of my wrist injury, this could be really fucked. This year is so important and I just don’t want to let anyone down; the organization, the team, the public, you,” he continued, his grip on your other hand becoming tighter. “I know I have a chip on my shoulder and have a lot to prove this year, but the thought of people not seeing that is killing me,”.

“You won’t let anyone down, Joe. And you could never ever fucking let me down, never say that again,” you said as you continued to rub his neck, seeing that he was getting more loose from your touch. “You’ve worked so so hard the past 10 months to get back to where you want to be and everyone and I mean everyone has seen that. I’ve seen that. Adversity always makes you better, it ignites that fire inside of you. That fire makes you who you are,” you said to him, feeling a little more comfortable yourself after seeing his body relax a bit. “Remember who you are. You’re Joe Burrow. Heisman winner, College Football National Champion, the first overall draft pick, one of the Top 5 quarterbacks in the league, one of the highest-paid quarterbacks, Ohio’s golden boy. You’re all of those things for a reason, Joe. You have it in you. You don’t need to be afraid or doubt yourself because you did all of those things, nobody else, just you,”.

You moved your hand over and wiped the tears that slowly were sliding down his cheeks before feeling Joe grab your hand and press a wet kiss to your palm. “I love you,” he sniffled. “I genuinely don’t know what I would do without you,”.

“I love you too,” you smiled before you leaned up to kiss his forehead. “Tomorrow is unpredictable, I will admit. But you control the narrative. You control what happens and what doesn’t happen out there. It’s just you and the football like it always has been. I know you and I know you’re going to kill it,”.

Joe gave you a small nod as he let your words sit inside of his head; you were right and he knew you were right. He did all of this himself, he single-handedly built his reputation and although there was an immense amount of pressure on him to maintain it, he knew that it was his reputation. He had control over his story, not anyone else. He didn’t need to work at anyone else’s speed except for his own. He knows the narrative that the media has been running with since November, that his career has been hindered by continuous injuries and he’s ’injury prone’. He knows what that title has done to the public's opinion on his career and rank as a player, but they don’t get to define him based on what they think. He is defined by everything he does himself.

It’s not their story, it’s his.

He reached out and placed his hand on your waist, gently pulling you from your chair and into his lap. You instantly looped your arms around his neck and pushed his head to the crook of your neck, this warm hug from you was the final thing he needed to fully calm his nerves. “You always know what to say to me,” he mumbled against your collarbone as you ran your fingers through his slightly grown-out frosted tips, his hands softly massaging your plush skin.

“It’s my job,” you chuckled. “I signed up for this when I met you at that football practice all those years ago and I plan on staying true to what I signed up for as long as I can,” you added before you dropped a kiss on his cheek, your mind calming down once you felt him relax against you.

“You better plan on it. I’m not letting you go anywhere,” he said as he pulled you in tighter.

“Well it’s a good thing I don’t want to go anywhere,” you giggled in his ear before pressing a kiss to it, then turning back to serious to finish off your little pep-talk. “I’m so proud of you, Joe. More than you’ll ever know. You’re truly the hardest working man I’ve ever met and you continue to amaze me with your dedication and determination every single day. Never think that you’re not good enough and you’re not who everyone thinks you are. You’re Joe Fucking Burrow. Never forget that,”.

“I won’t,” he sighed contently, finally at peace. “I won’t forget,” he said again before he pulled you closer and closed his eyes, getting lost in your palliative embrace.

End of flashback

You were so calm last night and now you were the complete opposite; you couldn’t figure out where and when things went south with your emotions. During the game, your brain was running a mile a minute as you thought of everything that could go wrong: Joe re-aggravating his injury, someone else on the team getting badly injured, and the team not being able to beat the slow start narrative. You were anxious, nervous, and deeply scared once the first quarter of the game started, and your feelings were validated when two minutes into the game Joe got sacked and fumbled the ball.

You remember your heart stopping once you saw him go down as this was the first time he had been hit since November.

“No!” you screamed as you shot up from your seat, your hand gripping the necklace around your neck as you looked down on the field and saw a bunch of large behemoths on top of him. “No, No, No,” you panicked as your breaths got shorter, your anxiety getting worse and worse as you saw flashbacks from the Ravens game in November. “Please be okay,” you thought to yourself as you were on the verge of tears.

Then you remember your heart dropping to your feet once you saw the ball come loose and even though he recovered it, this whole play left a bitter taste in your mouth since it was literally the first few minutes of the game and things were already not going as planned. Luckily, his going down didn’t seem to affect his wrist, but you could only imagine how it affected him mentally.

You thought that would’ve been the only sack of the game, but once again you were wrong. Each time Joe went down, you felt your heart stop. Each time he ran, your heart stopped again as you got flashbacks from early last year with his calf injury. Each time the camera panned to the sidelines and focused in on him, you felt like crying because you could tell the way the game was going was eating away at him by his facial expressions.

Every sack, every fumble, every drive that ended without scoring, and every turnover was killing you because the things Joe feared were happening even though you told him they wouldn’t. Seeing him flex his wrist on the sidelines and in between plays was the one thing that really did it for you. You didn’t know if this was just to keep his hand loose because he was feeling some tightness or whether this was because something was actually bothering him, your brain was in panic mode for the rest of the game.

“I hope he’s okay, that was ugly,” you thought to yourself before you jumped at the sound of the locker room door swinging open and snapping you out of your daze.

You watched as Joe walked out of the locker room, his eyes exhausted and defeated as he gave you a small ‘reassuring’ smile, however, it wasn’t very reassuring because his eyes gave his true feelings away in an instant.

You returned his smile with a smile of your own, opening your mouth to ask him if he was okay but before you could he leaned forward and dropped a kiss on your lips. He held it for a few moments as he melted into your touch which was the only relieving feeling he had felt all day before pulling away, entwining your pinkies, and leading you out to the car.

“That’s not good, he’s never this quiet when I come to meet him after the game,” you thought to yourself. If you didn’t say something first, he almost always did, but he wasn’t saying anything which was concerning. You stayed quiet as he led you out to the garage, your eyes not leaving his weary face for one second. You could tell he wasn’t okay, you could tell he was beating himself up over today’s loss.

A few moments later, he led you over to the passenger’s side of the car, an unusual move since you always drove the both of you home after a game. “I thought I was driving,” you gently said as you looked up at him.

“I got it,” he said with no emotion in his voice, dropping your pinky and looking into your eyes with his now cold and emotionless ones.

“But Joe I-,” you began to say but before you could finish your sentence he turned around and walked to the other side of the car.

“He definitely heard me,” you thought to yourself as you watched him open the backseat door and roughly throw his bag in, then slammed the door shut with a little more force than usual which startled you.

You let out a deep breath before opening your door and sliding into the passenger seat, your body stiff and frozen because of the way he was acting. You were scared to say something, scared to do something because you didn’t know what reaction you’d get from him, “He’s not doing this again, right?” you worried.

10 minutes into the drive home, you started getting agitated. He had yet to say anything to you, not even asking you if you were cold and if he should turn down the AC which he always asked you whenever you were in the car since he knew you got cold easily. His hands were gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles were practically turning white and his eyes were so locked in on the road in front of you that he hadn’t even noticed that you started shivering a little bit.

“Are you okay?” you finally broke the tension and asked, your bottom lip in between your teeth out of nervousness. Joe rarely ever raised his voice at you or got irritated by you saying something to him, but that didn’t stop you from getting nervous around him whenever he was acting like this.

You saw his jaw clench for a brief moment, your heart skipping a beat as you braced yourself for a potentially explosive reaction, but then you saw him unclench it. “I’m fine,” he said, once again with no emotion in his voice.

You gave him a small nod and then a few seconds later asked another question since he wasn’t budging, “How’s your wrist?”.

He let out a sigh, one that you could hear from his nose so it was definitely coming from a tired place, “It’s fine,” he said again, not giving you much to work with.

“He’s not fine, lying yet again. Maybe I could make him laugh? I need to do something to get him to loosen up” you thought to yourself, your brain scrambling to think of something to make him laugh even if it was for a brief moment.

“At least you guys scored a touchdown this time,” you smiled a few seconds later. “Even though you didn’t win the game, I’d say it was better than week 1 last year against the browns,”.

You studied his face carefully after you finished your sentence, searching for any tiny muscle movement that resulted in his lips curling up into a smile, but nothing. “Yeah,” he nodded, once again with no emotion. He then reached over to the center console, turning the knob for the volume up so that the once softly playing music was blasting throughout the car.

You felt your lip quiver and your eyes started to pool with tears as you continued to look at him, praying that he would look at you for even one brief moment, but he didn’t. “He’s doing it again,” you thought to yourself as you fell back into your seat. “He’s fucking doing it again. Just like he did after he got injured. He’s shutting me out,” you thought as you felt a tear slide down your cheek, your head turning away so that you were looking out the window so if Joe did happen to look over at you, he wouldn’t notice your silent tears.

Joe did look over at you. He was waiting for you to stop looking at him because he couldn’t look into your eyes right now, not when his brain was all over the place and he could regret the things that potentially came out of his mouth. He looked over at you when he saw you turn your head to the window from the corner of his eyes, his eyes softening when he saw your body shaking. You were cold. He always asks you if you’re cold, and this time he didn’t.

“I fuck everything up,” he muttered under his breath as he reached over to turn the AC down.

30 minutes later

After a car ride filled with deafening silence, you made it back home a half hour later and were pouring two glasses of water for you and Joe. He was sitting at the kitchen island behind you scrolling on his phone, still quiet as ever. You grabbed his glass and placed it in front of him, getting a peek at what he was looking at on his phone.

Media reactions.

Joe never looked at what the internet was saying about a game after it happened, it was one of his ‘blocking outside noise’ methods, so why was he looking at them?

“You really shouldn’t be looking at all that bullshit,” you said to him as you took a small sip of your water, the cool liquid feeling like a quiet unraveling of tightness within your body.

Joe was so focused on his phone that he didn’t notice that you were talking to him, the only things that he could hear were the voices of reporters talking about the team’s constant slow starts, his poor performance–saying that he played scared, rusty, and didn’t look like himself and that this team is constantly setting itself up for failure.

A video came up on his phone, an analyst was talking about his performance in today’s game, “We have to talk about Joe Burrow. He said he was ready, he said he felt great, and he said that this team was ready. But did that Cincinnati Bengals team that played against the Patriots today look ready? Absolutely not. Did the Joe Burrow who stepped out onto that field look ready? Absolutely Not. He looked scared, he didn’t look like himself. The lack of Deep Balls, the lack of throwing down the field. That’s not the Joe Burrow we’ve seen in years past. What’s truly going on in Cincinnati? Is there a deeper issue within that we aren’t seeing?”.

“They see right through me,” Joe thought to himself, feeling his eyes sting from the hot tears that were threatening to come out. He felt like the room was on fire, and there was invisible smoke. Nobody could really see what he was going through, all they saw was the burning room.

You felt your heart drop as you heard the reporter talk about Joe’s performance in today’s game, knowing that Joe was probably already criticizing himself and this was going to make it worse. “Joe?” you said a little louder, snapping him out of the dark haze he was stuck in.

“Hm?” he hummed as he looked up at you, noticing your pursed lips and worried eyes.

“Are you okay?” you asked again, feeling uneasy from the look he had on his face.

“...I said I’m fine,” he replied, his voice a little rougher than earlier.

You shook your head, “I know you’re not fine. Stop lying to me,” you said with a more rigid tone.

“I’m not lying to you. I said I’m fine. I don’t think it could be more simpler than that,” he rolled his eyes as he picked up his glass of water, taking a big sip.

“If you are really ‘fine’,” you say, making air quotes around ‘fine’, “Why are you looking at all that bullshit? You never look at any of that because you say it messes with your head,” you say.

“Because I can?” he scoffs, standing up from the barstool and walking around the island to place his water glass in the sink.

You take a deep breath, trying not to point out his snappy attitude because you know he isn’t in the right headspace right now. “Joe, seriously. I know you’re not fine but it’s just me. You can talk to me,” you gently say as you walk over to him, placing a hand on his shoulder but he quickly turns around and walks back over to where he was sitting to grab his phone which made your hand drop from his shoulder.

“I know you had a shitty game, I know you’re in your head about it, I get it. Trust me I do, but just let me-,” you begin to say as you walk over to him before he interrupts you.

“Do you though?” he asks. “Do you really get it? Sweet talking and hugs don’t magically make everything better, Y/N,” he says, his voice a little louder.

“Ouch.” you thought to yourself. “No. Remember, he’s not in the right headspace, Y/N. He’s not trying to be hurtful,”.

“I’m not saying that,” you say to him. “I know that doesn’t make everything better but talking to someone about your feelings does. You know that. You spent weeks working on that, remember?” referring to the therapy sessions he had this past off-season to work through the emotional and mental effects of his injury and just overall mental health.

“I know, but I said I’m fine. I don’t need to talk about anything, especially with you,” he said, his words feeling like a punch to your gut.

“Okay, what the fuck?” you thought to yourself. “What do you mean ‘especially’ with me?” you asked, your tone switching from gentle to slightly angry.

Joe stays quiet for a few seconds, his gaze fixed on the concerned look on your face. He knew what he was saying to you was most likely hurting you and you were coming from a place of worry, but he couldn’t control the things that were leaving his mouth right now. “I’m not doing this with you right now,” he shook his head and turned around, walking over to the stairs.

“Doing what?” you said loudly, following him over to the stairs. “I’m just trying to get you to talk to me but you’re making this a bigger deal than it needs to be,”.

“How am I making this a bigger deal?” he grumbles, turning around to look at you. “You’re the one that won’t leave me alone. I’ve said that I’m fine to you like 5 times now,”.

“You’re making this a bigger deal because you’re shutting me out, again,” you say, feeling your cheeks burn with anger, frustration, and sadness. You and Joe hardly fought, and whenever you did, it broke both of you. You felt like absolute shit right now and you couldn’t even imagine how Joe was feeling.

“No, I’m not. You’re being unbelievable right now,” he rolled his eyes again and started walking up the stairs with you hot on his tail.

“No, I’m not,” you say, echoing his words. “You are shutting me out just like you did after your wrist injury. What happened to letting me in your bubble? Because right now it feels like I’m being pushed 100 feet from your bubble for no reason,” you said, your voice a little shaky as you tried to hold back your building tears.

“I’m not shutting you out, Y/N,” he said loudly, his voice even more rougher. “Just because I don’t want to talk to you about how shitty I did today doesn’t mean I’m shutting you out. I just don’t want or feel the need to talk to you about it,”.

“See, you aren’t okay. I knew you weren’t okay. You know you played like shit so you’re clearly not fine,” you huffed as you made it to the top of the stairs.

“Is that all you wanted to hear? That I played like shit? Okay, yeah, I played like absolute shit. You win. Now will you leave me alone?” he said, trying to hold back from shouting at you even though he was dancing on the line that separated shouting from talking loudly.

“That’s not what I want to hear, Joe. You know that,” you said, your voice cracking once you felt a hot tear slide down your cheek. “I just want you to talk to me about your feelings, especially after our conversation last night. I don’t want you to go through all that again because I know how hard you tried to move past this mentally. You shut me out before and dealt with all of this on your own, and I saw how badly it affected you. I don’t want you to do that again. I can’t see you like that again,” you cried, your body shaking as all of your built-up emotions from the entire day were coming out.

You wiped your eyes as you followed him down the hallway, both of you walking past your bedroom and heading toward his office. You made it to the door and watched him open it and step inside. You were going to follow him in, but he turned around on the doorstep which blocked you from going inside. “No,” he shook his head.

“But..Joe I-,” you cried harder.

“No. Just please go away,” he said, his jaw clenching again like it was earlier, but this time it stayed clenched. “I can’t deal with you right now,” he said, his words feeling like a stab to your heart now.

There was nothing behind those eyes now. He had built up that wall again, that wall you tried so hard to prevent from being built because you knew you’d never be able to get over it. The same wall that he had built back in November after his injury. He did it again. After working so hard to be more open and honest about his feelings, thoughts, and emotions, he went straight back to square 1.

“Joe, please,” you pleaded. “Nothing’s gonna hurt you baby, if you just talk to me,” you cried more forcefully.

Joe stared at you for a few heartbeats, his heart-shattering at the sight of the state he had brought you to. It was all his fault. Everything was his fault; the game and now this argument. Deep down, he knew you were right, but he just couldn’t see it because the wall he had built was too high.

He was about to open his mouth to say something, trying to listen to you and talk to you about how he was feeling, but he backed down once he saw you start to shake. He saw your distressed face, your red eyes, your trembling lip, your shaking body, and your rapid breathing. He knew this was all his fault. If he unloaded all of his incredibly heavy, intense, and dreadful feelings on you right now, that would be so incredibly selfish of him.

Joe backed up in the doorway which made you think he was letting you come inside, but just as you were about to come in, he shut the door on your face.

You stare at the closed door for a few seconds, not processing what just happened. He really wasn’t letting you in. After all that, after everything he went through? After everything you both went through these past 10 months?

“Do you know how scared I was the entire game? Do you know how every time you went down my heart stopped? Do you know that I spent 5 minutes crying in the bathroom during halftime because I saw the look on your face?” you shouted at the door, your sobs getting louder. “I know this is hard for you but I’m here, Joe. I’m always h- here,” you choke out.

“Just leave me the fuck alone!” Joe shouted through the door, tears sliding down his cheeks as he squeezed his eyes shut because he instantly regretted saying that to you especially with that harshness in his voice that he knew would hurt you.

You backed up from the door once you heard him shout at you, he never shouted at you, not even when you had arguments worse than this. You looked around the hallway, trying to collect your thoughts but there were none left to collect. You said everything that you could’ve possibly said to get through to him, what more was there left to say?

He wanted you to leave him alone, so you were going to do just that.

“Okay, I’ll leave you alone,” you whispered to yourself, turning around and walking to your shared bedroom, your sobs echoing throughout the house as you disappeared inside your room.

On the other side of the office door, Joe was sitting in his office chair, hot tears sliding down his cheeks as he was drowning with regret. He lamented saying those things to you, he doesn’t know what came over him. What was wrong with him?

“Why did I do that to her? Why the fuck did I do that to…her?” he sniffled. He knows his anxiety and fears are controlling him right now, but there was absolutely no reason for him to take it out on the one person who always is there for him no matter what.

“I fuck everything up,” he cried as he looked at a photo of the two of you sitting on his desk, a photo his mom took after he got his wrist surgery.

Flashback to November 27th

“Babe, can we go skydiving?” Joe laughed as he rolled his head against the pillow to look at you. He had just woken up from surgery so he was feeling the effects of the anesthesia, and boy were they funny. The things that were coming out of his mouth were nothing but lighthearted, pure fun. It was good to see him laugh and smile especially since how melancholic his attitude had been since he got injured.

“Absolutely not,” you said while giving him a serious look. “You are not jumping out of a plane as long as I am on this earth,”.

“But why not? They have parachutes,” he pouted. “I think it would be sooooo fun,”.

“This is the same man who hates flying. Can you believe it?” Robin laughed as she finished typing up a text to send to family members to let them know the surgery went really well.

“I know right?” you laughed with her.

“How long did they say I can’t do stuff with my hand for?” Joe asked you with his adorable wide-eyed stare.

“I think they said to have it in a sling for at least a month right now until your first follow-up,” you said as you brushed his hair out of his eyes.

“A month?” Joe dramatically gasped, his jaw dropping to the floor.

“Yeah,” you laughed. “Sorry baby, you’re not Deadpool and can’t heal within 5 seconds,” you smiled.

“Wait, does that mean we can’t have sex for a month?” he gasped again.

“Joe!” you shrieked, your cheeks turning red because his mom was right in front of you both.

“Ah, wait. Loophole, duhh. You can just be on top which I know you love,” he winked while using his finger to point at you for emphasis.

“Oh my god,” you whined as you hid your face in your sweatshirt sleeves, hearing Joe’s mom break out into a fit of laughter.

“Hey, don’t hide your pretty face from me,” Joe pouted as he used his good hand to lower your hands that were covering your face. “Ahh, there she is. My beautiful, adorable, sexy-as-hell, fiance,” he said after you uncovered your face.

“Fiance?” you raised an eyebrow and asked. “Is this your way of proposing?” you giggled.

“No. When I actually do, it’ll be way more grander, sexier, and special than this,” he winked. “Like I’m talking maybe on the top of the Empire State Building, maybe in the middle of the football stadium, maybe at the top of the Eiffel Tower, maybe even while we go skydiving type special proposal. But I know I’m marrying you and I like the word fiance better than girlfriend,” he laughed.

“You’re insane,” you laughed as you dropped your head to his chest, feeling him cup your head with his good hand and drop a kiss on your head.

“I love you like a lot,” he giggled. “Like a lot a lot,” he giggled again.

“Ohh, I know,” you cheesed.

“You definitely don’t. I love you more than words can describe,” he smiled, you craned your head up to look into his sweet eyes before leaning up and pressing a kiss to his lips. “I love you too, Burrow,”.

After you pulled away you were about to get up from his hospital bed but his mom spoke up, “Wait, stay like that. I’m going to get a picture,” she smiled.

“Yesss,” Joe nodded. “I loveeeee pictures, especially with my fiance,”.

“You are really something,” you giggled as you sat up straight.

You moved your hair back and helped Joe scooch up in the bed before turning your head and pressing a kiss to his cheek, placing your hand under his chin as he had a giant grin on his face. His good hand was wrapped around your waist and was holding you as close as possible to his body.

You two were so happy. For once this past month, you were laughing, you both were smiling.

“Are you going to be my protector for the next few months?” Joe giggled. “Not let anything bad happen to me and my wrist?”.

“Oh, 100%. I am your nurse, personal bodyguard, and protector. Nobody is hurting my man on my watch,” you grinned again as you smothered his cheeks with kisses.

You both knew this wasn’t going to be easy, but as long as you were by each other’s side, nothing was going to hurt you.

End of flashback

“Nothing’s going to hurt me as long as she’s with me. I can’t keep pushing her away,” Joe whispered to himself as he snapped out of the sweet memory and wiped his tears.

2 hours later

It had been two hours since your fight with Joe so it had been two hours since you had last seen him. After going into your bedroom earlier, you spent about 10 minutes crying in the bathroom as you tried to change into some comfier clothes. You felt awful about the whole thing. The way you lost your cool a few times, the way he was talking to you, just everything–it was horrible.

You were currently sitting on the couch, sipping on some water and scrolling through some photos on your phone of the two of you. You let out a small laugh when you came across a silly photo of the two of you at a Hurricane Party you dragged him to at LSU. You remembered he was fully against the idea of going to a party during a hurricane, saying it was ‘batshit crazy’ and a ‘death wish’ but you managed to drag him along with you because you didn’t want him to sit inside and stress about the storm. In the photo, you two were standing on the deck of your friend’s house, the wind blowing so hard against you that Joe’s hat was flying away, and you with the hat you were trying to catch. His hand was tightly gripping onto yours and there were silly, drunk, lovesick smiles on both your faces as you were being soaked from the rain.

“We’re insane,” you sniffled, realizing how batshit crazy it really was to party during a hurricane.

As you were looking at other photos, you heard heavy footsteps coming down the stairs. You looked over at the bottom of the staircase, seeing Joe coming down in comfy clothes and wet hair which meant he showered and came out of his office at some point.

“At least he wasn’t in there for the entirety of these two hours looking at stuff from the game,” you thought to yourself.

Joe met your eyes as he walked into the room, seeing how red and puffy they were which was yet another thing that made him feel like absolute shit. He turned his head away at the same time you turned yours and walked into the kitchen, pulling out a glass from the cabinet.

He started pouring you a glass of water, adding a few ice cubes because he knew you loved to chew on ice after you cried. At first, he didn’t understand the correlation, but then you explained to him that the ice has this cooling effect that can reduce heat and swelling around the face that happens after crying for a while.

He grabbed the glass from the counter and slowly walked over to the couch, standing in front of you and holding the glass out. “Here,” he softly said, his voice just as heavy as yours which told you that he was crying too.

You slowly looked up at him, noticing that his eyes were also red and puffy. He definitely was crying too.

“Thanks,” you quietly say as you take the glass from him, taking a big sip and letting the ice cube float into your mouth.

“At least he remembered the ice,” you thought to yourself, appreciating the fact that he added them.

You start to chew on the ice as you see Joe plop down on the couch next to you, your body freezing up because you remember everything he said to you earlier. You knew he was coming from a place of anger and guilt, but it still hurt. Joe noticed you tense up next to him, because of him, and that felt like a knife to his heart.

You both stayed quiet, staring at the random re-run of an episode of Friends that was playing on TV, but your minds weren’t focused on what was happening in the show. They were focused on each other.

Joe felt his bottom lip start to quiver as his eyes once again pooled with tears, all of his emotions were coming out again. He fucked things up with you so bad tonight that he didn’t even know how to fix it. He hurt you. You were just trying to help him for his own good and he shut down on you. He shut you out. The one and only person that he let into his bubble. The one person he needed in his bubble.

His brain was already crowded with anxiety and fear regarding football, but this was the worst thing out of everything. He didn’t want to go back to that dark place again, he didn’t want to deal with this on his own.

You heard soft sniffles come from beside you so you looked over, your heart shattering again as you saw Joe on the verge of tears, his eyes so red and his lip trembling like he was trying to hold it together.

He didn’t need to hold it together, not around you. You knew that. You needed to make sure he knew that. ��Come here,” you whispered to him as you put your arm around his shoulder and pulled him into your chest.

Joe immediately snaked his arm around your waist and rested his cheek against your chest, letting his tears fall from his eyes onto your pink tank top. You wriggled your hand into his frosted tip hair, scratching his scalp and pressing kisses to his head as he cried harder into your chest.

You hated seeing him cry, but you knew he was feeling a lot right now and he needed to get his feelings out and this was the best way for him to do it. “It’s okay,” you soothed as you rubbed his back. “I’m here,”.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m s- so fucking sorry,” he cried harder. “I didn’t mean to yell at you, I didn’t mean to say all of that horrible shit to you. You don’t deserve any of that, you were just trying to help,”.

“I know, baby, I know,” you said, blinking away a few of your own tears. “It’s okay,”,

“No, it’s not okay,” he said. “This is all so fucked up. I fucked everything up,” he sobbed.

“No, you didn’t,” you said to him as you continued to rub his back. “You didn’t fuck anything up, Joe. Everything’s fine,”.

“I did. I fucked up in the game and then I fucked up things with you. Nothing’s fine,” he sniffled.

“Listen, Nothing's gonna hurt you, baby. As long as you're with me, you'll be just fine,” you said to him before pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Like I said earlier, I’m right here. Just talk to me,”.

“...You’re right,” he sniffled, breaking through the mental wall he had built. “You belong in my bubble, I can’t keep you out of it,”.

“So don’t,” you said, pulling him in tighter.

“I’m scared,” he breathed out a few seconds later. “I feel guilty about everything. This game was supposed to be different. I was supposed to be different. I feel like all of this was my fault because I wasn’t as ready as I thought I was. This was my first game back and I played like absolute shit out there,”.

“Oh, Joe,” you said as your face dropped as well as your heart.

“I disappointed everyone. Most importantly, I disappointed you. Even after everything you told me last night, I couldn’t do it. Everything that could’ve gone wrong went wrong and I didn’t do anything to fix it,” he said as a few more tears fell from his eyes.

“You didn’t disappoint anyone, Joe. Nobody expected you to go out there and play like you had a completely normal year. You went through so much with this injury, obviously things weren’t going to go back to normal in one game,” you gently said. “And you could never disappoint me. I told you, I know you. The public doesn’t know you like I do so they’re going to run with whatever bullshit they want as an explanation for why the game went the way it did. I know why things went the way they did, I’m not disappointed in you at all. I’m proud of you for going out there and doing what you did today,” you said as you pressed another kiss on his forehead and moved your hand back up to his soft hair.

“I just feel like I had the shinest wheels, you know? There was so much hype and fire around me when I first got drafted, but ever since then, I’ve just disappointed everyone. It feels like the wheels are rusting. I know what everyone’s been saying, and I get it. I would say the same thing if I was in their shoes. It’s been 5 years of nothing but injuries, slow starts, and coming up short. I feel like I’m falling behind everyone, everyone keeps getting better and I feel stuck. Right now, all of my cages are mental and that’s why I’m scared. If I keep doing this, I’m wasting my potential. I’m stuck as the ‘injury prone’ and ‘wasted potential’ quarterback,” he said, the vulnerability in his voice comforting you because it meant he was letting you in.

“I haven’t done what I promised to do when I got drafted, so why should people believe me when I say that I’m built for this? Why should they believe me when I say that this year will be different? And you know what? They don’t believe me, at least not anymore and I saw that today. They see right through me. Even I see right through me,” he said.

“Can you see right through me?” he asked you, looking up into your soft eyes.

“Yes,” you nodded, his brows furrowing at your response. “Not in that way though,” you added. “I see right through you because I know you. That’s why I knew you weren’t fine the second you walked out of the locker room. Remember, the media, the fans, and the public don’t see through you, they only see the surface level because they don’t know you. They don’t truly know how hard you work, how strong you are, how much passion you really have for this. They’re going to spew whatever bullshit they want because that’s what they do. If they were in your shoes, then they would know why these things happen and the reality of the situation. They can’t see through you, I promise. And as for the not getting better, you’re crazy if you think that. I saw you in practice, your throws have never looked better. You have never looked better, all this muscle and beefiness is a part of getting better. And like I told you yesterday, you control the narrative. You don’t have to be the ‘injury-prone’ quarterback, you can change it. Deep down, you know who you are. Don’t let these trolls and interlopers define you,”.

Joe nodded as he felt his breaths steady out and his tears start to dry up. “I played scared yesterday, and I don’t know why? I thought I was ready, you know? We weren’t supposed to lose that game,”.

“I know,” you sighed. “But you’ve gone through so much these past 5 years, it’s completely normal to be hesitant and nobody should be blaming you for this. Yesterday’s loss wasn’t just on you. You’re on a team, Joe. They didn’t play perfectly either and the blame shouldn’t only fall on you. You’re a piece to the puzzle, a big piece, but not the only piece. The media always wants to pin everything on one person. One thing that I admire about you is how easily you block out the outside noise, don’t change that. Block it out like you always do,”.

“This is game 1 out of 17. Don’t let this define you and don’t let the noise get to you,” you said as you used your thumb to rub the skin underneath his eye, wiping away the wet tear trails.

Joe nodded again, taking in all of the words you were saying to him. You were right, about all of it. He was so in his head about everything and so panicked that he couldn’t use logic and sense to think clearly. This was just one bump in the road as you explained. He had 16 more games to play and 16 more opportunities to show everyone what he’s made of.

“You’re right,” he nodded. “This was one game. I can take this, learn from my mistakes, and get better,”.

“That’s exactly what I like to hear,” you smiled after hearing him work through his complicated feelings. “You’re going to get better. The team is going to get better. If you want to fix the blaring issues, do it with a calm, collected, and cool mind. You’re called ‘Joe Cool’ for a reason. Live up to that name,” you giggled. “Don’t lose your cool, don’t lose your composure over shit like this. I know you feel awful about how things went today, but one bad game doesn’t define a player and doesn’t define the entire season. Things were rough, but you always, no, you will bounce back,”.

“Thank you,” he sniffled against your chest, his brain feeling like it had just been given a nice comfy king-sized bed and cloud-like blanket to sleep in for the night. You were the only person that could make him turn his brain off and he couldn’t thank you enough. “I think I just got panicked after seeing everyone’s reactions and seeing how things looked out on the field plus everything I was feeling yesterday made it worse,”.

“Of course,” you smiled as you gave his head another kiss before holding him tighter against you. “And I get it. Sometimes it feels like the walls are caving in but that’s why it’s always important to talk to someone when you feel that way. Bottling up those feelings only makes it worse,”.

“You're 100% right, Y/N. I’m sorry about earlier,” he said while looking up into your eyes again. “That was so fucking uncalled for. And I’m sorry for raising my voice, I was a dick to you the entire night,”.

“It’s okay,” you smiled. “You were a dick, I agree,” you began to say, earning a laugh from Joe which made your heart smile, “But you’re my dick and I know how to handle you,” you smiled, then quickly furrowed your brows.

“Wait, that doesn’t sound right at all,” you slapped your hand against your mouth after realizing what that sounded like, another laugh coming from Joe’s mouth.

“I know what you mean,” he smiled. “But seriously, everything I said was straight bullshit. You mean the world to me and without you, I really think I would end up in an insane asylum. You’re the single most important thing in my life and I appreciate everything you do for me. Don’t ever leave me alone if I ask you to. Like please, I can’t live without you. Chain yourself to my wrist if you need to,”.

“Noted,” you smiled. “Just don’t freak out on me like that again, okay? You worked so hard this past year to get out of that zone, break free from that dark cloud, and I don’t want to see you back there,”.

“I promise I won’t go back there and if I ever feel like I am, you’ll be the first person I come to. I’m never going to keep you out of the bubble again,” he said as he pressed a kiss to your chest. “I love you,” he said with another kiss to your chest.

“I love you too,” you smiled down at him. “I love you like a lot a lot,” you giggled, echoing what he said to you after his wrist surgery.

“You know, sweet talking and hugs do make everything better,” he laughed as he looked up at you with his child-like smile you loved to see.

“Oh, I know,” you winked. “But you still feel pretty stiff right now. Are you sure you’re 100% okay?”.

“I think it’s just all the tension that I didn’t get to release out on the field. And I guess everything that happened after made it worse,” he grimaced.

“Ah, that makes sense,” you nod, trying to think of a way to help him get his tension out because you knew if he didn’t, he’d be whiny all night about it. “How about some hot, post-loss sex to make you feel better?” you wiggled your eyebrows and asked.

Joe’s eyes jumped up to meet yours as he was a bit taken aback by your straightforwardness. “For real?” he asked as he got up from your chest.

“Mhm, the perfect way to get the tension and aggression out,” you said while licking your lips and giving him a sultry smile.

“I love you, so fucking much,” he growled in your ears before shooting up from the couch, snaking his arms under you, lifting you up, and leading you up to the bedroom bridal style.

“At least the wrist seems to be just fine,” you giggled as he quickly ran up the stairs with you.

Not even 5 minutes later, you two were mostly naked, on the bed, and attached to each other’s lips as if you had never kissed each other before. His lips moved against yours hungrily, signaling that he was feeling that way tonight and that you should brace yourself for what was to come.

You felt him pull away from your lips and start pressing wet, sloppy kisses down your body. “I thought we were getting right to it?” you asked him as you felt his gentle lips on your belly.

“Mmm, I gotta make it up to you first, then we can get to it,” he smiled up at you.

“But I said I-,”.

“Nope. I have to make you feel good first, you deserve it,” he winked before he continued to kiss down your body. You felt him attach his lips to the skin of your inner thigh, rhythmically sucking and biting which would surely leave a mark while his hands crept up to the waistband of your lace panties. He then moved his lips to press a kiss to your clothed core before pulling your underwear down, tossing it to the side, and then flashing you a devilish grin since he saw how you were squirming around on the bed because of the undeniable ache between your thighs.

The next few minutes passed by like a blur and the next thing you knew, Joe’s head was buried deep in between your thighs and your back was arching off the bed. “Joe,” you moaned as you felt him push you back down, the expert swirl of his tongue sending jolts of pleasure throughout your body. “J- Joe,” you whispered, your head falling to the side as your eyes fluttered shut.

Joe couldn’t help but smile into you as he continued to eat you out like a starved man, the beautiful sounds coming from your mouth making his heart happy but also, his dick.

“Mmm, fuck..,” you whimpered as you gripped the silk sheets, tossing your leg over his shoulder and lightly gliding your foot along his muscular back. The sudden touch made Joe groan into your core which sent vibrations throughout your body, your heated touch feeling like fire against his cold frame.

He continued to lap at your drenched folds, all while his hands were tightly gripping your hips and massaging your plush skin. “You’re so fucking good at this,” you whispered with another loud moan following after as you felt his perfect ski-slope nose rubbing against your aching clit.

You placed a hand into his hair, softly pulling on the strands as you pushed him closer to your core and yet another moan came from your mouth. Joe lifted his head out from in between your thighs and looked up at you, “You’re extra vocal tonight,” he smirked, his lips and chin coated with your wetness.

“Shut up,” you whined before you pushed his head back down, a smile appearing on your lips when you felt him attach his lips to your bundle of nerves and flick your clit with his warm tongue. You felt yourself fading away, getting lost in the sensual supernova that was happening down below.

“...Oh my god,” you whined a few seconds later, feeling him thrust a finger into your core which pushed you closer to your orgasm even faster than before. “Don’t stop,” you said while pulling on his hair, your leg lightly wrapping around the back of his neck.

You felt him move his other hand down, his thumb resting on your clit as he rubbed slow circles around the bundle of nerves–this movement made you see stars. The combination of his thumb rubbing your clit, his finger thrusting in and out of your slick core, and his mouth going unhinged was making the imaginary band in your stomach tighten harder than it ever had before.

“I’m close,” you whimpered, your hips gently bucking at the jolt of pleasure moving through your body. “I’m..s- so…c- close,” you whimpered, this time a little louder because his thumb started moving faster around your clit. You then feel him add another finger into your core, your hips grinding against the bed as you search for any form of relief, but the only thing that could relieve you was taking his sweet time.

“Baby, please,” you begged, your eyes fluttering shut as your back arched off the bed again, his fingers rapidly thrusting in and out of your core while you felt a more extreme feeling begging to be released from inside of you. “Oh, fuck,” you moaned, the feeling about to break through in just a few seconds.

Joe curled his fingers inside of your core and moved his mouth back up to your clit, roughly attaching his mouth to the bud and sucking you in a way that he knew drove you crazy. And then just a few seconds later you dropped back down to the bed as you felt yourself tip over the edge, his name falling from your lips like some seductive chant while you came undone. “Joe!” you screamed, tightly closing your eyes and feeling your entire body shake with the force of your orgasm.

Joe looked up through his eyelashes, watching you restlessly move around and hearing breathy moans leaving your beautiful mouth as he lapped at the juices of your intense–still going–orgasm. He was slowly getting more and more worked up as he watched you come apart, knowing he was the only man who had ever seen you this vulnerable and raw and was the only man who was going to see this.

A minute later you open your eyes, your chest heaving as you recover from the intense high that washed over you, “Holy fuck,” you panted as you saw Joe smiling at you, his lips and chin completely covered in your release, his face showing that he somehow enjoyed this just as much as you did.

“Did I just-,” you asked, feeling the soaked sheets below you, as you caught your breath. Your eyebrows shoot up in amusement as you watch Joe wipe his chin with his fingers before using his tongue to lick them clean.

“Yeah,” he chuckled, “You did,”.

“Oh my god,” you said, hiding your face with your hands out of embarrassment.

Joe let out a throaty laugh before kneeling on the bed again and hovering over you, then moving your hands off of your face, “Why are you hiding,” he smiled.

“Because I just…,” you said while biting your lip, his bedroom eyes making you want to pounce on him right that second even though you also wanted to run and hide for some reason.

“What?” he said while trying to hold back his cocky smile. “Squirted?” he asked while moving your hair out of your face.

“You don’t have to say it like that…,” you said while hiding your face again.

After all this time, you still felt shy around him. He’d seen your most embarrassing moments, your best and your worst. He’d seen it all. The fact that you felt embarrassed about this little thing was adorable and another reminder that you were the most precious girl he had ever met.

“Don’t feel embarrassed, babe. It’s not the first time and it’s definitely not the last time,” he softly said while leaning down to kiss your forehead. “I think it was super hot and super sexy,”.

“Really?” you asked while peeking out at him through your fingers.

“Mhmmm. Besides, I’ve seen way worse than this. Can’t forget the time I walked in on you fingering yourself while I was away at practice,” he grinned from ear to ear, as if he was proud that he made you so worked up even when he was away from you.

“Joseph Lee,” you screamed while playfully slapping his bare chest.

“Hey, it was a great show,” he shrugged. “I can still remember the sounds,” he said while clearing his throat. “Oooh, Joe. Ohhh Joe, fuck. Joe, ah… Joey!” he moaned as he mimicked you, all while laughing because he couldn’t be serious about it.

“You know, I don’t have to offer an outlet for you to release your tension,” you shrugged as you started to get up from the bed but felt yourself being caged in by your large boyfriend.

“Ahem, I don’t think that’s how this works, baby,” he shook his head. “Once you put something on the table, you can’t take it off,”.

“Oh yeah?” you teased. “What if I do?”.

“You don’t wanna know,” he whispered in your ear before slamming his thick cock into your dripping entrance with no warning.

“Joe,” you gasped, the sudden feeling of him stretching you out and filling you up so extreme and lively.

“That’s it, baby,” he groaned as he threw his head back, his cock moving at an instantaneous pace. “That’s it…,” he said again but a little quieter while he dropped his head to the crook of your neck, the feeling of your warm walls wrapping around him so intense and special.

“Joe, fuck,” you whimpered as you felt his cock repeatedly slam into your cervix, his body moving against yours recklessly and roughly. His thrusts quickened as he moved deeper and deeper inside you, the sounds of your breathy moans getting louder with each snap of his skilled hips. He sported a euphoric look on his once-tired face, a sign that he felt relaxed and it was all to your credit.

The next few minutes were hot, steamy, and messy as he whispered filthy praise into your ear which matched the pure vulgarity that was happening between you two on the bed right now. His hard thrusts made it difficult for you to hold it together, your nails clawing at his tan back as you bit down on his shoulder and got lost under his touch. “You’re so good to me,” he moaned in your ear, his hand moving up and wrapping around your throat.

“Joe,” you struggled to moan, feeling his grip around your throat becoming a little tighter as the pleasure inside of you was rapidly building.

“Ah, fuck,” he panted as he picked his head up and cupped the back of your leg, and lifted it over his shoulder; this new position opened you up even more and made it easier for him to hit all the right spots inside of you. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whimpered, the sight of his lip in between his teeth and his thick body moving against you making your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“I’m close,” you moaned as you looked down, moaning again at the sight of his shaft rapidly moving in and out of your slick heat.

“Fuck, me…too,” he groaned, his pace getting rougher and rougher as sounds of your skin slapping against each other echoed throughout the room. “I love you,” he moaned loudly once he felt his cock start to twitch inside of you.

“Joe, fuck…please, I need to come,” you whined, his grip on your leg getting tighter.

“I know baby, I know,” he whimpered, “I’m almost there,” he added as he dropped your leg and moved his hand to the headboard, gripping it tightly as he used it as leverage to slam into you even harder. All the tension, all the aggression, it was all coming out in the most fruitful way possible. He was getting away from himself, and it was all thanks to you.

“Ah, fuck,” you screamed, feeling yourself on the brink of pleasure, stars filling your eyes as his pace remained rough and hard.

A few seconds later, you felt him shoot endless ropes of cum into your wet heat which were accompanied by another loud moan from him. “Fuck. Oh fuck,” he panted as he slowed his thrusts into you, making sure that his release stayed inside of you and that you reached your high.

“Joe, please,” you pleaded, needing to feel your high right this second.

“I’ve got you,” he said while giving you a lazy smile, his hand moving down to your clit and rubbing rapid circles around the sensitive bud as he slowed his thrusts even more. A few seconds later, you clamped down on his cock, arched your body up into him, and felt yourself let go for the second time tonight. “Oh my god,” you moaned before you felt him press gentle kisses all along your neck and eventually your face, your lips meeting in a sloppy kiss as your highs washed over you.

A few minutes later, you were both lying against the messy sheets, your head tucked into his chest as he played with your hair and once again apologized to you for how he acted earlier tonight.

“Joe, I promise, It’s okay,” you giggled. “You’ve made it up to me in more ways than one. The fact that I can’t walk right now is an apology enough,”.

“Okay, I’ll stop now,” he smiled. “Thank you for everything though. This and for everything you said earlier,”.

“No need to thank me, baby. I told you, this is my job. We’re in this together and I promise that nothing’s going to hurt you as long as you’re with me. Like I said to you back in November, I’m your protector,” you grinned.

“That you are,” he laughed, his body feeling loose and light under you for the first time all day.

“Thank god he feels better," you smiled to yourself. Joe was the most important thing in your life, having him relaxed, focused, and calm was all you wanted. He deserved all the happiness, success, and love in the world and you needed to make sure he knew that. Moments like this were going to happen all throughout his career, but they were controllable and you were a big reason as to why they were. He wasn't kidding when he said he needed you inside his bubble or he'd end up in the insane asylum. You were his safe haven, his place of tranquility, his calm in the storm.

“I love you more than anything, Joe. Everything's going to be alright, I promise,” you smiled up at him, then leaned in for another kiss before you felt him pull the sheets over you both.

“I love you too, Y/N,” he smiled as he nuzzled his nose against yours and leaned in for another kiss.

–The End–

part 2 is on the masterlist!

#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow fic #nfl imagine #joeburrow #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow imagine #Spotify

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kiss-me-muchoo · 6 months ago

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𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐞𝐧𝐝? || 𝐑𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Summary_ living the most perfect relationship turned out to be a sharp pain, your boyfriend Reed Richards was married and you didn’t knew, but thankfully, after the storm comes a rainbow.

Warnings_ age gap (not specified, but reader is in uni), ANGST, ANGST, implied smut, retro references, I hate home-wreckers but this is for the plot, DO NOT romaticize this shit irl.

Notes_ I HAVE A REASON TO ADD THE JOE QUINN TAG, PLEASE READ JOHNNY STORM LOVERS, and listen to how did it end?, please please please and Be My Baby with this, worth it.

♪ ♫ Pedro playlist | Reed + Johnny playlist ✰ Index (+ fics here)

𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ 𓆇𓆸⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ 𓆇𓆸⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ 𓆇𓆸

The subway was awfully quiet yet at full capacity. You assumed everyone was minding their business as usual, but you thanked them because you could perfectly hear the radio of an elderly man playing “Be My Baby” by The Ronettes, and it made you smile.

Reed loved when you casually hummed and danced to the song as you cooked.

Oh, you were so in love.

It was at the beginning of your third semester of university when you met him. Being so introverted made it sweet and easy when you stepped into the wrong classroom, expecting an art class. Reed Richards, the physics professor let you know you were not in advanced sculpting class. He was so enchanted by your beehive hairstyle matching purple skirt and top, with a lilac sweater that had tiny embedded jewels.

He went to look after you that afternoon, learning you were at least past your teenage years and that you were not a science person like him.

And the rest was history, after months of having casual dates, he visited you often, and even met your parents. You loved him.

Reed was extremely smart. Always brings you the right gifts although you never ask him for anything. Always suggesting the best places to have dinner. It was like he had everything perfectly measured to make you happy.

I'll make you happy, baby,

just wait and see

For every kiss you give me,

I'll give you three.

Your stop was next and you enjoyed the rest of the song as you savored the feeling of being in love.

Walking through the streets you realized you had nothing else to do for the rest of the week regarding academic stuff. You also were expecting to arrive before the sunset at your home to start dinner. Reed was coming and your parents were going to join you two too.

For a moment you don’t think you’ve ever been this happy before.

Your dad opened a bottle of wine when you heard a knock on the door and that had you already blushing. You placed more raspberries and sliced lemon pieces on top of the cake you started as soon as you arrived home.

Reed greeted your parents and they welcomed him kindly.

“Our girl is in the kitchen,” your dad said.

“On my way to her,” you giggled, hearing his footsteps.

Immediately his hands came to lock around your waist. Which startled you but soon made you laugh.

“Hello, my love,” he said kissing your cheeks from behind.

“Reed! I’m trying to finish the cake” Giggling and trying to get away from him, he made you spin around before pulling closer and finally plastering a big kiss on your lips.

You melt into his touch in a second.

“Too bad I have more appetite for kissing my girl” you gently pushed him, returning to finish the cake.

“Don’t be like that… I put my heart in this one” Reed got closer, admiring your cooking skills. He then moved his eyes to appreciate you. His smile grew as his heart started beating faster.

“You sing, you dance, you sculpt, cook and bake. Darling, you’re perfect!”

“Kiss me again and I might believe it, baby” his silly smile made you chuckle, accepting his embrace and another kiss. It took you by surprise when gently pinned you against the counter, making you let out a gasp after feeling his manhood brushing your inner thigh.

“Are we still up for dinner?” Your mother called, peeking through the door of the doorframe of the kitchen.

“Yes. Sorry, Mom” you apologized feeling a sudden sense of embarrassment. Reed let you go, immediately helping you to grab some plates.

“We’ll continue this in the studio, darling” his hand reached out and gave you a soft spank in the ass, making your eyes wide open.

“Reed!”

“I said what I said, dear”

You would never deny his touch. The way the mere brush of the tip of his fingers could set you on fire and he perfectly knew the spots to make your body burn. So you just smiled naughtily. When he turned to see you again, you gained the courage to show him the outline of your shiny mint underwear that was lying under your dress.

“You’re killing me, y/n”

“After dinner, you can do everything to stop me”

His face was priceless, he blushed and looked adorable being so.

“How does it feel this summer without teaching?” You heard your father asking Reed after you gently pushed him out of the kitchen.

Between the laughs of your family and boyfriend, and the soft music playing in the background, you feel very happy.

…

“Reed…” you moaned his name as you watched his face under the hem of your dress. His lips were constantly licking your wet folds and had you biting your own hand to prevent louder moans.

“Darling… you are so pretty moaning like that for me” his hands snaked through your ass to the back of your knees, opening your legs even wider.

You were so close, your eyes closed in advance and you grasped at his hair harder.

yes, yes, yes, oh!… oh no.

His watch oddly beeped. The bubble of pleasure exploded, leaving only ashes of what had been the lust.

“I gotta go…” you frowned.

“What?… Why?”

“A friend. From work… he has a deadline for professors, I promised I would send him some of my archives to save him time,” he said and it only made you frown more.

“Can’t you send him the archives at least after making me reach an orgasm?”

“I’m sorry, baby. I’ll pick you up tomorrow to have breakfast at your favorite place. Then we can have some fun time in my car” he attempted to soothe your worries but it clearly didn’t work.

“Oh… okay, Reed”

He kissed your forehead before squeezing your hand and finally leaving.

The bitter taste of uncertainty hit you. And before you could even prevent it, you were distrusting Reed.

The next morning, while he talked about how lovely you looked and how great was his breakfast, you barely paid attention. While he took your body to the backseat of his car, more than pleasure you felt uncertainty again.

And no matter how much you tried to ignore it, you didn’t believe Reed.

…

It’s all in the past three weeks later. Everything went back to normal, dates were perfect again, and sex was pure gold again. You had no complaints about your relationship with your much older boyfriend.

Even better when he announced he got tickets to see The Beatles on Saturday.

You got your hair straightened. A black turtleneck dress, red seen-through tights, and matching red heels.

Your eyeliner was more perfect than ever. And Reed came to pick you up with a huge bouquet of flowers.

“How did you get the tickets, love?” you asked as he drove.

“Oh, I have a friend who works in the media. A dating show has its target audience set…”

You wonder what show he meant. There were some popular shows on the TV airing at the time. That’s long short story when you notice Reed had been watching you.

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s just that I love the sight of you…” his words made you blush. Much more when he leaned to give you a quick kiss that you enjoyed as if it was the last. His beard tickled you and only made you smile more.

“I don’t want to die without seeing The Beatles, Reed” He started laughing and soon you followed with a giggle.

He pulled into a parking lot, and you already felt excited, seeing the crowds making line to go inside the venue, waiting for the concert to begin.

“Oh, I’m so excited!” You squealed, hurrying to apply some more lipstick before getting out of the car.

“Honey, you don’t need more makeup, you already look gorgeous,” Reed said.

“But it’s your favorite color” he looked, noticing it was indeed his favorite color, crimson red.

“Damn right… it is my favorite color” Both of you laughed as you started walking outside of the parking lot.

He placed his arm around your shoulders but soon you remember.

“Wait!… I forgot my coat” Reed hands you the car keys and you go back.

The last sun's rays hit the car when you open the backseat door. You leaned to grab your coat, but a shimmery item caught your attention.

Locked under the passenger seat, you struggle to grab the object, not being able to see just guided by the touch.

First, you felt a paper and a harder one, like a card. Then, with your pinky fingers, you felt a cold rounded object.

Your heart pounded as you fished the object with your pinky fingers.

An ID from the NASA that belonged to a woman, named Susan Richards aka Sue Storm. She was older, but extremely pretty; blonde, blue eyes, perfect nose, perfect hair, just some years younger than Reed.

A picture of your boyfriend with the same woman of the ID, both looking at the camera, her hand gently placed against his chest, a big diamond in a ring also posing for the picture.

And the ring. The solid proof of your sudden question.

“Darling, Why are you taking so long?”

“You’re married?” You asked, handing him the golden wedding band with one hand and slamming the door of his car with the other.

“Darling…” he tried to reason, but you are enraged, red face and watered eyes.

“Why am I even questioning? Of course, you are married, Reed!” your hand dropped the picture and ID, and his attempts to calm you failed.

You can’t even process what is happening, you are just being consumed by the anger caused by his betrayal.

“We were going through a rough phase. And then I met you. I- I don’t even know what I’m doing right now” he admitted, sighing, accepting he was an asshole and a loser.

“AS IF I CARE!… YOU LIED TO ME!”

“Let me talk and explain, y/n”

You let out a long sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose, trying to keep the tears from falling. Your head started pounding, your body welcoming the stress.

“No. Don’t call me again, don’t get close to my college department on campus. Just… don’t you ever try to come back into my life again.” he called your name plenty of times, and you heard his footsteps following you, but after leaving the parking lot of the restaurant, he stopped.

After a good time trying to prevent the tears, you started crying. You loudly sobbed, ignoring the few people you encountered while crossing the streets of the vivid city.

By the time you are seated in the subway once again, you don’t realize you have walked more than five blocks. You could only think about Reed.

Every moment with him felt genuine. He was kind, attentive, romantic, and… honest.

Never gave a sign to make you believe you couldn’t trust him, more like the contrary. And that was the worst part.

Maybe you just loved him so hard that it made you blind to see that his love was a lie.

…

The phone rang every day. You never answered. A month passed and you avoided the rest of your life on the beaches of Florida.

Your parents believed Reed took advantage of his P.H. D out of the city, so it was better to break up. But they couldn’t bear seeing their poor daughter going through some breakdown.

And when you came back to the city, the neighbor told you your ex-boyfriend had sent flower bouquets during your vacation, not knowing you were out.

It only made you feel worse. Questioning How could you have missed the signs of him being married?. And now that the damage was done. Did the wife know? Did Reed ever love you?

If he couldn’t be faithful to his wife, certainly not to you.

But those thoughts are the kind of thing that makes you go out with one eye covered in purple eyeshadow and the other in bright orange. Mismatched socks and disheveled hair. Some girls laugh at you when you enter a cafeteria but you honestly don’t give a damn. You just want a sandwich.

After paying, you’re once again daydreaming, overthinking about Reed. Without realizing a man had stood beside you.

“Hey... I saw the girls over there laugh but… I like the way you styled yourself” You turn to see the stranger.

“I’m so lost in the head, I did something bad a while ago, so now I can’t even think straight ahead” you admitted, moving to grab some dressing and napkins while waiting for your order.

“Well, it must’ve been really bad, with all due respect.”

“It was…”

“Is it too bad that I’m curious to know?” He asked and you shook your head, sighing.

“I was dating a married man and I didn’t know,” you said looking down, too embarrassed to look at the guy in the eye.

“It’s not your fault if you didn’t know” it took you by surprise.

“I know. But it pains me so much because it thought it was… real.” a lady called your name, letting you know your order was ready.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be telling my problems to strangers. Thanks for listening, have a great day” you said, walking away to grab your sandwich.

“Wait!” The man called you.

“I don’t mind hearing. My brother-in-law always says I’m an asshole but I can actually listen to people. If you had no plans… We could have lunch together” he revealed, making you smile gently.

“I was going to take this home and eat alone. So yes, we could have lunch together…” you finally analyzed him. Definitely closer to your age than your failed previous relationship. He was blonde and had kind eyes, that no matter what you wouldn’t trust at all after what happened with Reed. But this man seemed sweet, slightly cheeky, and too much of an extroverted one, but you liked it.

“I didn’t catch your name before,” he said.

“I’m y/n…”

“Johnny… Johnny Storm” You remember it was the same name as Reed’s wife. But you can’t think this man had something to do with them. You can’t live continuing with mixing Reed with every step you took.

“I like your jacket”

“Thanks. I almost set it on fire this morning” You didn’t think he was saying it for real, so you laugh.

And oh, how much things changed after that.

…

Five months later, in the peak of autumn, Johnny and you celebrated your first month together. And accidentally you discovered he had some… abilities regarding fire.

Soon later, he was convinced you had to meet his family, so you agreed.

But when his sister opened the door, your face went pale. The woman in the ID you found in Reed’s car greeted you along Ben Grimm and soon you encountered with the cause of your endless midnights in sorrow.

Reed Richards looked the same. Wearing his usual clothes, the grey hairs above his ears, a charming smile, and an intellectual vocabulary.

Acting like strangers, he greeted you, pretending he never met you, never kissed you, never touched you.

Reed just slipped from you, but you weren’t afraid to walk away, just truly and messily hurt. Then you met Johnny, magically disappearing the weight of your broken heart. Even so, while walking inside the house, talking to the wife of your ex-boyfriend, you felt his eyes on you.

Reed was merely shocked, not knowing anything about you in months, then suddenly walking into his home as Johnny’s new girlfriend. He was horrified, but then he realized that he was no better than his brother-in-law. Reed always thought Johnny was an asshole for cheating on girls and being condescending. But you had truly changed him. Johnny followed you like a lost puppy, Reed questioned if you were a witch. And he accepted he wasn’t over you.

“How on earth did this happen?” Reed asked you during a brief moment of privacy.

“I don’t know, but I think I’m falling in love with him, Mr. Fantastic” you whispered in his ear. Reed saw how your eyes briefly glowed and he feared you, but more than fear, he felt panic about you completely forgetting about him.

As you walked inside the kitchen, following the conversation with Ben and Sue, Reed was witness of how you dropped a picture of his wedding with Sue, without touching it. His blood ran cold.

“What was that?” The blonde woman asked.

“A picture, it fell and the frame cracked a little” Reed calmed her, but he grabbed the item, noticing how it left some of your strange energy. The eerie gleam across the frame made him almost hypnotized, soon he shook his head. He would take that frame to run some tests and discover what the hell were you hiding.

Reed entered the kitchen finally, and saw how Johnny kissed your temple, his hand on the small of your back to lead you towards the table to have dinner. You weren’t lying, you were falling in love with Johnny, but you thought back at Reed. Your heart still belonged to him. And you couldn’t comprehend how did it end?.

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taglist: @raiyna-rred

Idk, I’m just excited for this movieeeeeee

#pedro pascal x reader #reed richards x reader #johnny storm x reader #joseph quinn x reader

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misty-thecat · 10 months ago

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Is it just me or the songs on The Tortured Poets Department sound the same? It's like they all blend together at some point....at first listen there is not one song stuck in my head. And this is coming from someone who genuinely enjoys her music ...Red is one of my faves. You could swap the songs from Midnights and TTPD and I wouldn't be able to tell. I think she should start working with a new producer. Although I stopped being a fan since the breakup, I was still looking forward to new music .... I was excited for what new sound she would explore but it was disappointing to hear the same old repetitive Jack Antonoff synth pop genre.

She probably needs a break .... all this hyper production in the past few years with so many albums and their multiple versions must have had an impact on her creativity and quality...also a lot of lyrics are just......eh I don't know the right words, but she can do better for an artist of her magnitude and caliber.

Also, I feel like the aesthetic for the album does not match the music...like the dark academia/old books thing doesn't really go with the songs for me. Again, they sound a lot like something from Midnights due to the production so probably that's why I feel like that.

Another thing, the album seems to be mostly about the 1975 dude, but the marketing pointed to Joe Alwyn which led to him being harassed by her fans and she did nothing. That was horrible of her. It's these kinds of things that led me to leave that fandom. Even Ariana put out a statement when she released her new album.

Overall, I expected a better album from her. She really needs to take a break. The overexposure and overproduction are not looking good.

#anti taylor swift #taylor swift #joe alwyn #the tortured poets department #the tortured poets society #I'm so serious

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ivys-garden · 1 year ago

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Alright let's go season 10 predictions.

There will be at least one new Hermit, Probably Skizz, But I also think it's highly likely Joel and Lizzie also join - really hoping for this, Skizz is great, Joel is an amazing builder and has fun interactions with the others (expect his episode one to be dominated by Boat Boys and Neck Kissing Jokes) and Lizzie is also great at Building and would be another edition to the Hermit Girls Murder Group (before any of yall say Stress and Lizzie aren't murderes - they are.)

Soup Group won't base ontop of each other, but they will be relatively close and will commit shenanigans together. Someone else will also base near them and join the shenanigans- maybe Cleo, Stress or False, Mabye Scar if he isn't with buttercups, maybe Lizzie if she's added.

If Skizz is added he doesn't make his own base and instead joins another Hermit and lives in there's, helping with building, Probably Impulse or Tango.

Buttercups will base superclose to each other, its tradition at this point.

Doc will continue to break the game in increasing absurd ways.

If there are new Hermits, Joe sings a little song to welcome them - and then The Hermit Girls Murder Group welcomes them with murder.

Gem keeps the head collecting going - especially if there's new Hermits

Tango (and probably some others) will start the season late. They bloody deserve it.

Someone acidentally breaks the game in the first 5 episodes.

A war starts within the first 25 episodes.

A Spawn area will be on an island.

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snickerdoodie · 5 months ago

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“Sugar and Spice”

Summary: Everyone knew Jake Seresin was a charismatic player. Whether it was flirting with girls at the bar or charming his way out of any situation. But what happens when the blond pilot finally meets his match?

Pairing: Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x f!reader

A/N: hey guys..I’m not even gonna lie I completely forgot to post this lmao, I got a liiittle busy with everything and it completely went over my head. But here it is! Finally! After two months. This also isn’t proof read, per usual, so sorry if anything sounds off. Enjoy!

Jake’s chatting along with Rooster and the gang when the door suddenly chimes open, taking a quick glance as any human would, but what he sees isn’t what he’s expecting. In comes you, dressed up in a simple white tank top and probably the shorted daisy dukes he’s ever seen, not that he’s complaining though . His eyes rake over your body before he travels further upward, smirking to himself when you accidentally make eye contact. Giving him a nod and a classic small smile, you make your way over to the bar, soon getting into a quick conversation with Penny.

“Well I’ll be damn,” He says into his beer, taking a long sip before wiping his lips with a grin. That causes Rooster to quirk a brow at the unexpected comment.

“What’s up with you? Find a new pair of tits to ogle at?” He quips, noticing Hangman’s intense stare across the room. Seresin shrugs, a smirk still plastered on his handsome face.

“‘Could say that. Could also say I might have just found myself my girl tonight.” And with that, Hangman scoots himself out of the booth he was sitting in and makes his way across the room, gaze dead set on you sitting at the bar, drink in hand. He ignores the unwanted calls and shouts narrowed to him from his friends, too caught up in his next words. Taking a seat on the empty stool next to yours, leering on your exposed skin before continuing.

“Hey there, what’s a pretty thing like you doin’ here sittin’ by yourself?” You turn your head to the sound of the voice, not even hearing him come up beside you. At first, you do a once over at the man, taking in his striking green eyes and Hollywood smile. Then you take notice in his uniform, his sunglasses perched on the fold of his shirt. Must be one of those pilots you keep hearing about. Turning your upper half to him, you smile.

“Doesn’t seem like I’m sitting alone now, does it?” You quip back, setting your drink down on the countertop. The man’s smirk grows wider as he rests an elbow on the wood.

“Aw, no need to thank me, just doin’ what’s needed of me.” You just now realize his country accent, standing out in certain phrases; it makes you fight back a blush. You raise a brow nonetheless.

“Is that so? Did you magically think I wanted you here, Blondie?” You know he wasn’t expecting the nick name when his brows raise for a split second before shooting back down to their original places.

“Eh, I don’t need’a think, I just know by heart. Y’know, with my magical powers ‘n all.” He imitates quotations at the end of his sentence. You huff out a laugh at his words, eyes cascading down to your watered down drink. Taking a sip, you focus your attention back onto the man in front of you. That stupid grin still plastered on his lips.

“Well can your magical powers tell you the name of the lady you decided to make your next target?” It came out a bit harsher than you intended, almost regretting your words. Truth is, you *were* enjoying his company and that southern drawl of his. He honestly was making your night a bit better than just sitting there alone, drowning in your drinks and mind while some overplayed Toby Keith song played on the jukebox.

“I’m afraid that’s somethin’ I can’t do. Care to help me out here?” Relieved he didn’t say anything about your earlier statement, you bite your lip with a smile, nodding.

“(Y/N),” you state, almost missing the way his eyes light up more at your declaration. “What about you, G.I. Joe? Got a name to the face?”

“As a matter of fact I do, gorgeous. Most people call me Hangman but I’ll make a special case and let you call me yours.” He winks with that cheshire grin. You fight back both a blush and a large smile this time at the cringy and overused line.

“Is that so?”

“I’d sure so hope so, ma’am.”

You both stay silent as you stare at each other. While you bite the inside of your cheek, he scoots himself closer to you, knees brushing against each other. You can smell his sandalwood cologne and the beer he’d been drinking previously before coming up to you. Hangman notices your lack of response and licks his lips, eyes flickering from your glass to your hair then to your lips before continuing.

“Tell ya what, sweetheart” he starts, catching your attention, “You name the game. If I win, you’re buying me dinner. But if you by some miracle manage to beat me, you won’t have to endure my charming company ever again.” He finishes, looking very confident in his proposition. You tilt your head and fully face your body towards him, your legs scooting between his as he widens his stance to make room. You swear you could have seen his adam’s apple bob harshly at the movement but you payed no mind.

You narrow your eyes slightly before a small smile stretches across your lips. With the confidence that this man passed on, you carefully lean forward so your palms are resting against his firm thighs. Bracing yourself as you lean in closer. Hangman bites his lip before tilting his head down, his chest heaving in a breath before he speaks,

“You gonna take up on that offer, darlin’?” He drawls out, voice raspy, almost sultry. You look him in the eyes as you lightly squeeze his skin, his smirk growing.

“Y’know what? I will, s’not like I’ve got anything to lose now is there, cowboy?”

I also tried to make my format for my fics a little more..interesting looking. I felt like they’re too boring so tell me your thoughts. Feel free to comment if you liked or disliked something! :)

#jake seresin #top gun maverick #jake hangman seresin #hangman x reader #forgot to post this #oopsie #x reader #hangman imagine #hangman fic #top gun fanfiction #top gun 2022 #glen powell

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trippinsorrows · 5 months ago

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give me a reason + three

authors note: still blown away by people's interest in this one. i included visuals in this chapter, so look out for links. tweets and messages are intended to be read from left to right.

as always, confusion is to be expected. :)

one + two

words: 8k

song inspo: just give me a reason by p!nk and nate ruess

warnings: language and fluff

To say this is the first time in his life that Joe has felt lonely would be a lie. He felt it a bit the first time he left home for school, but it was greatly eased by the fact that he had BJ, his best friend. They were both in the same boat, so it wasn’t as bad.

He felt it again on and off over the years as he fought to make an NFL career that was never going to work, well, work. And once that brutal realization finally hit, after taking way too much time feeling sorry for himself, he experienced t it again as he started the hustle and grind to make a wrestling career work instead.

And he’s especially felt it over the past two years as his marriage with Ri has deteriorated to a level he thought unreachable.

But this….this is different.

It’s different because he’s not going home to an empty house. He’s on the road, back to work, surrounded by his cousins, a fantastic team, and a plethora of fans. It’s truly the opposite of loneliness.

But that’s exactly what Joe feels.

Because he doesn’t have her. Doesn’t have Ri.

Even if he hasn’t had her for at least two years. Not really, anyway. Not in any meaningful way that actually matters to him.

A knock on the door pulls him from his depressing inner dialogue.

Sitting up, Joe calls out, “come in.”

In walk Jon and Josh, and right away, Joe knows what’s up. He can tell by their facial expressions.

“I’m fine.” Maybe if he jumps ahead of whatever semi intervention they have planned, he can avoid a conversation he really doesn’t feel like having. Physically or mentally.

“Bullshit,” Josh scoffs, closing the door behind them. The twins sit down on different seats opposite the sofa Joe’s big body is sprawled on. “You ain’t been fine for a minute, Uce.”

It’s not entirely wrong, but that doesn’t mean Joe has to necessarily agree. “A lot of shit has happened.”

“Yeah, and I’m not quite sure you fully allowing yourself to feel that shit.”

“Kind of hard not to.”

“You know what we mean, Joe.” Jon cuts in, asking over a sigh. “Why you here right now? You should be with Ella. Helping her heal and remember shit.”

Joe feels the exact same way, but that’s not what her family wanted. Not what she wanted to some extent, because Joe was present when her parents brought up the idea of her returning home to Florida with them. She didn’t seem opposed. Didn’t express any desire to instead stay and go back to her real home with him.

Not that he can blame her. He’s a complete stranger to her. Granted, technically, so is her family. So that not being chosen thing has definitely left a sting.

So, Joe settles on a simple answer, “it’s not what she wanted.”

Josh is quick with the rebuttal. “Man, she don’t even know who she is, let alone what she wants.” Again, not wrong. But also, again, no need to verbalize as such. “Look, Uce, I know….I know things been rocky with you and her the past couple years—”

“Don’t.” This time, Joe doesn’t hesitate to dead the conversation before it can truly transpire. “I’m not doing this shit right now.”

“That’s the problem though, Joe.” Jon jumps back in, pointing out, “I feel like you, and her too, been avoiding talking about whatever it is that happened. And that avoidance has damn near cost you your marriage.”

“I said I’m not doing this, Jon. Drop it.” Joe can think of a million other things that he’d prefer to talk about than that. All kinds of cruel, mideval types of torture would be preferred over venturing down that path. The only person he should be discussing that with is his wife. But, that’s hard to do when she doesn’t even remember it.

Doesn’t remember the thing he’ll never truly be able to process.

He doesn’t even know someone can process and make peace with that.

The twins share a look. They must know they’re defeated. In this round, at least. Cause if it’s one thing he knows about the cousins he considers more as brothers, they can be resilient and tenacious. Especially when it comes to heavy shit like this.

“Alright, man.” Josh shakes his head and slaps his thighs. “We’ll leave you alone.” It’s appreciated and both unwanted. Joe doesn’t want to be alone, per se. But, he doesn’t want his cousins, either.

He wants his wife.

And when they walk out, the door closing behind them figuratively and literally, Joe is back to ruminating thoughts about his wife.

His wife who he’s seen mostly online in the two weeks that have passed since she was discharged from the hospital and left to be with her family.

Joe isn’t ashamed or embarrassed to admit he’s found himself looking at footage of her via her music videos, interviews, performances and home videos. He’s reviewed old news articles that came out about them back in the day, got a good chuckle at a situation a few years back where some irrelevant rapper called himself trying to start shit with Mari that Joe and BJ handled and deaded right away.

He laughed over old text exchanges with his wife who will always be the smartest yet dumbest person he’s ever met when it comes to common sense sometimes.

But, he’s especially enjoyed the home videos. Joe had almost forgotten just how much footage he has of her. Personal videos taken when it was just the two of them.

Some taken by her. Some taken by him.

Memories, they’d always call them.

And they still are.

Just haunted ones.

Joe grabs his phone and navigates to his videos folder. There’s hundreds of them, because every time he upgrades to a new phone, he always makes sure to back up and transfer his texts, photos, and videos. For no reason other than not wanting to lose anything. Not miss out on any of the many hilarious, heartwarming moments with Ri.

Joe picks a random video, a smile easily falling on his face as he immediately remembers and recalls what this one is.

She’s wearing one of his Bloodline shirts, a random ball cap and a pair of his sunglasses over her eyes. There’s also a spatula in her hand as she sits on the floor in their living room in front of their flat screen TV while one of his more popular promos with Brock Lesnar plays in the background.

“You must be confused, farm boy. That title? That’s my title, and you don’t even realize cause I’m gon smash you at WrestleMania. And it’s not even your fault, Brock. You ain’t got a chance.” She’s mouthing along perfectly, facial expressions and body language in almost perfect sync with her makeshift microphone. Joe can hear his laughter in the background as she stands up, getting more into character. “This is my show! This is my ring!” She gestures off to the side. “This cameraman right here? This is my cameraman!” She gestures around the room. “These people, these are all my people, because they acknowledge me!” She then points to him. “These two right here? They work for me! This commentary team is mine because they brag and talk about me the whole time.” She then lifts her arm, pointing to the ceiling. “That sign right there? Is mine! Because I am WrestleMania! I am this show, I run this show, and everybody works for me!” She smirks, head titled. “Including the security in the ring with me.” Joe’s laughter increases as she drops the spatula and throws the hat off along with the sunglasses, also falling out laughing with him.

Ri walks over and climbs onto his lap, asking, “That was good, wasn’t it?” Joe doesn’t hear a response on his end, but he’s certain it was nonverbal acknowledgement.

As the video ends, he finds himself back frowning again.

Close….

They were so close.

Joe switches to a different album, photos this time, his smile returning as he opens a photo she snapped of them laying in bed. He’s clearly asleep, his arm over her body as she smiles happily.

His finger traces over the outline of her smile, a memory popping into his head.

“It’s just so beautiful.”

Joe sighs. Loud.

It’s not often he gets time off, so these next couple days are precious and cherished. And he’d love to kick it off the right way: by getting some much needed sleep.

If only his lovely wife understood this.

Because even though it’s almost 2am, she sits beside him in their bed, emotional for no damn reason at her chosen movie: The Brave Little Toaster.

He blows out a breath. “It’s literally about kitchen supplies.” Joe then asks, confused as hell. “Why the hell you watching this anyway?”

Her answer is rushed and nervous. “Because I watched that creepy ass movie earlier today, and now I need to ease my anxiety.”

Joe closes his eyes, turning on his back, looking at her with all the judgment. “Didn't I tell you not to watch that shit? You know your ass is scary as hell.” As soon as she started giving him a description of the movie, a psychological thriller, he knew she needed to stay far away. Ri has a tendency to overthink films like that, somehow convincing herself that whatever happened in the movie could happen to her.

And that’s exactly what’s happened.

“Well, I didn’t listen to you, okay!” Joe rolls his eyes. Obviously. “So, now I need to watch this soft, cute movie about these brave little utensils.” She starts sniffling. “And it’s just so sad.”

“What they do? Rust?”

“Joe!” She slaps his arm, huffing, “oh my gosh, you have no creative bone in your body.”

“Not at no damn 2 o'clock in the morning, you’re right, I don’t.” He turns back on his side, bringing the blankets up to his neck, snatching back more of the covers from his hogging ass wife. “Now I’m going back to sleep. You enjoy your KitchenAid movie.”

But that’s damn near impossible when she starts crying again minutes later, somehow louder than before.

“He’s just so brave.”

“Oh my god.” Joe closes his eyes, rolling once again onto his back. He pinches the bridge of his nose and reminds himself that this is his best friend and his wife. He can’t grenade this. Can’t and won’t hurt her feelings by telling her to shut the fuck up, even though that’s what he would say if it was literally anyone else. “Your period must be coming because you done gone through all six stages of grief watching this damn kids movie about a fucking toaster.”

Ri gasps beside him, and he can almost feel her dramatic ass, judgmental glare. “I resent you saying that! Just because I’m a woman with feelings does not mean—“ She pauses. “What day is it?”

And before he can answer, she’s kicking the blankets off, climbing over him, and scampering to the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

Joe is barely even able to turn back on his side when she calls out from the bathroom. “Goddamnit , you man, you! You spoke it over me!”

He sighs. It all makes sense now.

Ri is just an overall emotional, theatrical ass person, but it’s always exacerbated whenever she’s on her cycle. She becomes….difficult.

Super sensitive.

“Shit.”

He hears her curse from the bathroom, but it’s not as loud, not as dramatic. And that’s what catches his attention.

“What?” Nothing. Nothing but the sound of the drawers being opened and almost slammed shut, like she’s in a rush of some sort. Joe kicks the blankets off and walks over to the bathroom. He knocks once, asking, “can I come in?”

She answers by opening up the door only to turn back around, clearly looking for something. “What’s wrong?”

“Damnit!” She snaps, slamming the cabinet shut. “I’m out of tampons.” Ri walks over and gestures to the few she has on the counter. “These are all light.”

Shit.

Right away, he sees her dilemma. There’s no way she can use light tampons for the first night of her period. And the reason he knows this and isn’t weirded out like how some men would be is simple. He grew up the only boy among four sisters, the baby of them all. He’s heard and learned a lot over the years. Some, or maybe a lot of which, he could have gone the rest of his life without knowing. But, some information, like in cases like this, have proved to be a bit helpful.

So, it’s only natural, he offers, “I’ll run to the drugstore right quick.”

Ri turns to him, instantly protesting, “no. It’s late, Joe.” She crosses her arms and shrugs. “I can just, like, stuff a bunch of toilet paper up my vagina for tonight and pray nothing gets stuck.”

He leans against the doorway, easily shooting that down. “Yeah, with your luck, that’s exactly what’ll happen too.” He loves his Ri more than what’s probably healthy, but the girl is accident prone and the queen of freak accidents. “I’d rather get you the damn tampons than spend all night in the ER with you.”

Her not disagreeing with his prediction is telling. She knows he’s right. “Let me at least go with you. I don’t want you out by yourself this late.”

Joe would also not like to be out on the road, hitting up Walgreens for a random ass tampon run, but this is also Ri. And there’s very little he wouldn’t do for her.

If anything.

“I think I’ll be fine, Ri.” He chuckles, walking over to her. She pouts as he kisses her temple. “You’re the one who would get kidnapped or some shit.” He laughs at his comment, a reference to the movie she watched earlier that’s got her up so wide and awake.

She gasps, mouth dropped as she looks up with wide eyes. “See! I told you it could happen!”

Joe walks into their bedroom and throws on some sweats, a hoodie, and slides on some sneakers. He grabs his wallet, keys, and phone as Ri walks out, shuffling over to him and moving up against his chest, hugging him. “You want the chocolate?” She nods. “Milky Ways?”

Again, another nod as she looks up. “And the—”

“Hot fries and Arizona tea. The one mixed with lemonade. I know.”

She pouts. “Thank you.”

He kisses her forehead, murmuring, “I’ll be back.”

He walks toward the door, as she calls out, “I love you.”

Joe chuckles. “I love you too, baby.” He’s halfway down the steps when she screams out from the bedroom.

“Damnit! Now we can’t do the nasty!”

By the end of the memory, a time so much simpler and happier, Joe has his head back, eyes closed, emotions all over the fucking place.

She was his best friend. The person he trusted the most. More than anyone.

And all of a sudden, it was just….gone.

His entire view of her….gone.

Or maybe not.

Because while this nightmare of an accident has taught and shown him a lot, one of the biggest things it’s made him realize is that while his hurt and confusion and betrayal may be strong, his love for her is stronger.

It always has been.

He was just blinded by all of those other miserable, heavy emotions and too stubborn to do anything about it.

And now he’s in this extremely uncomfortable, confusing as fuck dilemma where he has to find someway to manage and deal with these emotions when they should be managed and dealt with with her.

But how can someone forgive someone for something they don’t even remember doing?

———-

Sleeping in a bed that isn’t yours anymore but once was is….weird.

Sleeping in a bed in a bedroom that was once yours is even weirder.

But, staying in a house full of people who feel like and are, for all intents and purposes, complete strangers is the weirdest of them all.

It’s borderline uncomfortable.

Mariella understands the intentions of her parents. Sees how they think and believe her sleeping in her old bedroom could potentially stir some memories. It makes sense. But, it doesn’t work that way.

At least, it’s not working that way for her.

And to her credit, she tries. Tries to observe and almost study the damn near wall full of photos from her childhood, photos of her with people who are both family and friends. She’s not sure if this was just how she last decorated her old room, but something tells her it’s the result of her family's continued effort to jog her memory. It seems….excessive. But from what she’s gathered, that’s also a good word to describe her personality. Extra. Dramatic even.

If only she could….connect with that somehow.

Stepping out of the shower, she takes her time getting ready. Doesn’t rush to get downstairs where she knows she’ll be greeted with a row of smiling, unfamiliar faces. Mariella really does feel bad that she’s having such a difficult time understanding and connecting, because for all intents and purposes, her ‘family’ has been nothing but kind and supportive.

And she knows this has to be difficult for them, but….she can’t force it.

Even if she wanted to.

Because she damn sure does.

It would all be so much easier that way.

Sure enough, the smell of bacon sizzling on the fire and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee isn’t the only thing that’s waiting for her in the kitchen.

Her father is the first one to lay eyes on her, his smile small but oh so genuine. “Morning, Ella.”

Mariella does her best to return the smile. From what she’s seen and heard, she’s always been exceptionally close with her dad. With her whole family, really.

“Morning.”

Her mom turns around at the sound of her voice and entrance, also smiling. It’s bigger and deeper than her dad’s. And she doesn't hesitate to turn the fire on low, clap her hands against her apron and walk over to pull Mariella into a hug.

It’s not missed upon either woman how Mariella initially tenses. And she feels bad for that too. This is her mother for crying out loud.

April pulls back, the sadness and slight level of rejection evident in her pretty brown eyes that Mariella realizes she inherited from her mother. “I’m sorry, I—”

“No, it’s…it’s okay.” Mariella swallows, forcing an even bigger smile. “You are my mother, after all.”

April’s smile is tight, the coverup for a disappointment Mariella can’t truly understand. “How did you sleep?”

Not very good. “Fine.” She walks over to the machine, lifting the mug that she assumes belongs to her dad given the same word is written in big red letters on said mug. She reaches it to him.

“Thank you.”

A small nod of acknowledgment as she grabs a new mug and starts to brew her coffee when April speaks from where she stands again by the fire. “I was thinking of going to the promenade today. Olivia is going too. Would you like to join us, Ella?”

Mariella doesn’t have to be looking at her mother to know that while it’s meant to be a question, it’s more of a statement. And while she isn’t opposed, much preferring to be out of the house vs in the house, home videos and photos stuffed down her throat, a true question would be nice vs being told.

“Sure,” she answers with a shrug, turning around and pulling out her phone, opening to the contact she’s found herself thinking about the past couple days.

Joe.

Their last correspondence was almost a week ago. All limited to texts that seem rather on the dry end considering they’re supposed to be married. She doesn’t really fault him though. In his defense, he seems to be wanting to give her space vs coming on too strong.

Unlike her family.

She sighs loudly, fingers hovering over the keyboard as she debates editing, once again, the text she’s had drafted for a couple of days but hasn’t built the courage to send.

Mariella: Can we facetime or something?

It’s such a simple thing that she’s not sure why she’s overthinking. In the little interaction she had with him at the hospital, she could see that despite his size, he’s a man on the quiet side. That calmness was appreciated, and in the midst of being bombarded with information, she’s found herself missing that to some extent.

Missing….missing him to some extent.

Even if it makes no sense to her.

“Morning, family.” Olivia’s voice rings into the air, pulling Mariella back into the present. She’s dressed to the nines, and from that alone, without even needing to be told, Mariella knows her sister is a successful woman. She just looks the part. Liv sets a smile that seems a bit off on her, red lipstick contrasting against her almost unnatural, straight, pearly whites. “Hey, sis. How you feeling?”

Such a big question that seems impossible to truthfully answer to the people who are only trying to help. “Good.” So, she lies. “I guess I’m going out with you all shopping today?”

Olivia rolls her eyes and adjusts the expensive looking designer bag on her shoulder. “Of course, you are. We’ve gotta get you back out there.”

“Olivia…”

Olivia turns to their dad, asking, “what? She has to get back to her life eventually.”

“Leave her be, Liv.”

Olivia rolls her eyes, ignoring April and reiterates, “she needs more than just photos and videos, guys.”

Mariella doesn’t know what she specifically needs but being thrusted into social situations when she still hasn’t memorized her SSN seems to not be it either.

But still, she remains quiet.

“Ella.” Mariella turns to her dad, brows raised. “When’s the last time you spoke to Jo—”

“Oh, Ella, I forgot there was something I wanted to show you.” Olivia interrupts the question Mariella was already thinking about without her dad even needing to ask her.

The thing she’s still thinking about even as Olivia pulls out her phone, inundating some random ass photos from back when she was in high school.

The man she can’t seem to stop thinking about.

———-

As expected, shopping has ended up providing just another form of frustration and level of feeling of being overwhelmed.

It wouldn’t be as bad for Mariella if her mom and sister didn’t feel the need to stop and introduce her to almost everyone who’s familiar, to them, that they come across. She feels a bit like a politician, plastering on smiles that don’t meet her eyes and accepting hugs from strangers. Members from church. Old neighbors. Even an old elementary school teacher.

It’s just weird.

So much so that she eventually has to excuse herself, making up some excuse about a headache as she sits outside on a bench in front of the store where Olivia and April continue to shop.

Mariella is grateful for the solitude and uses that to once again play around with just texting her freaking husband of all people.

She could use some of his quiet right now.

“Mariella?”

One thing that’s improved is her ability to respond to her name, but it’s who says her name that has Mariella more stumped than anything.

He’s standing above her, creating a massive shadow and distraction from her sending out the text she’s not exactly sure she wants to actually send.

He’s wearing a smile that’s objectively friendly, but there’s something about it that feels….off. He’s also objectively attractive, pretty light eyes, tall, sinewy build. Facial features that seem more appropriate for a page out of Vogue vs being on this strip of stores.

“Wow. It really is you.” He scoffs and tucks his sunglasses near the collar of his shirt. “It’s been too long.”

Mariella may not know just who exactly she is, but she does know the difference between being friendly and rude. And she really doesn’t know a nicer way to say her first response other than what comes out. “I’m sorry, I don’t….do we know each other?”

The man frowns a bit. “That’s right. I forgot….” Something tells her he feels uncomfortable outright saying what’s otherwise obvious. Like the fact that she was in a severe accident that knocked the shit out of her.

And her memories.

“My name is Brendan. We….we dated back in college.”

Oh.

Mariella still doesn’t know a lot about herself. Much of anything at all, really. But what she is seeing is that her taste in men is pretty damn good, because this Brendan person is far from ugly. Though it’s hard to not compare. Hard to not think about the contrast between him and Joe, her husband’s voice deep and baritone compared to Brendan’s soprano-like tone. Joe’s massive build to Brendan’s much slender one. Even the height difference. She recalls having to crane her head up to look at Joe. Brendan is a few inches taller than her but nothing significant.

And those comparisons also have her reconsidering, yet again, keeping the text as it is right now, just drafted in her phone. Has her wondering what benefits could be gained from just sending it, seeing what he says.

“Oh.” The word escapes her head but nothing else comes out, Brendan clearing his throat.

“This may be poor wording, but you look absolutely amazing considering….well….”

“That I almost died?” He looks uncomfortable but also amused. “It’s…it’s okay. I guess it’s a compliment.”

“I didn’t realize you were in town.” He stuffs his hands in the pockets of his jeans, asking. “How long are you here for?”

Hopefully not much longer.

And it’s a thought that she instantly feels bad about. This is her family, and it’s not their fault she can’t remember. Because they’re trying their damn hardest to change that. But, that’s also a part of the problem.

It’s…..it’s too much.

She feels almost suffocated at times.

Like now with this Brendan person.

“I don’t know.” An honest, truthful answer followed up with more honesty. “But, I’ll be going back to California eventually.” Back to be with her husband. One person vs several who seems really great at giving her information but not too much. Largely only when she asks vs being told in heaps of overwhelming data. “With my husband.”

She doesn’t know why she adds on that last part or why she fiddles with the beautiful diamond on her left hand. The ring that she placed on her finger without much thought when given her items upon being discharged.

Brendan’s lip twitches, his eyes flashing with something that almost looks like irritation. “Of course.” There’s definitely no denying the irritation in his tone. “Listen, I’d love for us to catch up before you leave. A cup of coffee.” Her eyes widen a bit when he adds on, “maybe even dinner—”

“Hello.”

Another voice. This one a bit more familiar. April stands in the doorway of the store with Olivia. They both wear polar opposite expressions. Olivia is smiling in Brendan’s direction while April’s mouth is in a straight line as she moves to stand beside Mariella.

“Mrs. Holmes. Long time, no see.” The irritation is washed away, swapped out with something amiable but also….inauthentic. Mariella doesn’t know if she’s exactly in a place to be judging people or calling them fake when she doesn’t even know who she is, but there’s something….off about this Brendan character.

She doesn’t know a shit ton about Joe either, other than the basics, but right off the bat, between the two of them, she chose the right one to walk down the aisle with.

Her mom’s smile remains tight. “Maybe not long enough.” This takes Mariella by surprise. She hasn’t seen this side of her mother before. Unfriendly, almost.

Olivia, however, rolls her eyes. “Mother, please. You know Brendan also works for the same firm I’m at.” Ahh. That would explain the smile. “Excuse my mom. It’s been….a lot for all of us.”

Now, Mariella is the one fighting back confusion. She gets that this has to be difficult for her family. For her to not remember who they are, but it’s not just them she can’t remember. She can’t remember quite literally anything. She’s the one who’s been impacted the most out of this.

She just kinda wishes they would get that more. Would respect the level of intrapersonal difficulty on her end.

“Of course.” Brendan frowns, but again, it feels inauthentic. “Well, I won’t keep you, ladies—”

“Good.”

Mariella bites down on her lip, turning away to hide her smile as Olivia looks straight up annoyed at April’s coldness.

“I’ll see you at the office, Brendan.” Olivia says almost apologetically, dragging her eyes back to her mom who seems completely unapologetic for her tone.

Brendan nods, landing his gaze back on Mariella. “Remember my offer, Ella.”

She can’t even find it in her to nod or acknowledge his departing message because there’s not a single part of Mariella that wants to entertain his offer let alone take him up on it. Does he not know she’s married?

It’s once he’s gone that April turns toward Mariella, a genuine smile replacing the fake one. “Sweetie, can you go wait in the car? I need to speak to your sister.”

There’s a part of her that would like to overhear this probably interesting conversation, but the desire to just be away and by herself is more overpowering.

“Sure.” She accepts the key fob and shopping bag from her mom, not hesitating to turn on her heel and head back toward the parking lot.

And as soon as she’s gone, Olivia is on April, voice harsh and sharp. “Mother, what the hell was that?”

“Watch your language with me, child.” April’s correction is swift as she crosses her arms. “When did you plan to mention Brendan now works with you?”

“Didn’t realize I had to keep you up to date on the latest hires at my job.” She rolls her eyes, also crossing her arms. “Plus, really, mama? How was that a priority with everything we’ve had happening?”

“Watch it, Olivia.” Aprils loves all her children equally, but Olivia has always been the one to push her close to her limits. “I don’t like that boy. He’s a snake.”

“Oh my gosh…” Olivia turns away for a second, coming back as she points out, “you don’t even know him.”

“I don’t have to know him. You know why? Cause I distinctly remember Joe nearly putting him in the hospital for whatever went down between him and your sister.”

Olivia is taken back for a second. Her mom’s memory is as sharp as the best of them. “You mean when he committed aggravated assault and ruined any chances Brendan had for a basketball career?”

April, however, is not backing down, showing just where Olivia inherited her stubborn personality. “You ever wonder why Joe reacted the way he did? How bad it must have been for him to get that upset?”

“Oh, please. Mama, let’s not act like Joe hasn’t always been a hothead. He’s just better at masking it than BJ.” And before April can protest, Olivia provides facts. “How many times did you and daddy get a call or called down to the office cause BJ got into it with someone, huh? And more often than not, who’d he get in trouble with? Joe.” Olivia shakes her head. “The only reason they always got slaps on the wrist was because they were athletes. Joe has been problematic, and I’m tired of ya’ll not seeing it.” She blows out a big breath. “Brendan is not a bad guy—”

“You saw how he was looking at your sister.” April stresses, lowering her voice. “Don’t no man have no business looking at a married woman like that unless he’s got bad intentions.”

“Ella isn’t even with Joe right now, so what’s the big deal?”

April is quiet for a moment, eyes narrowing in suspicion. “What are you up to, Olivia?”

Olivia easily slides into deflection. “Mama, you’re always so hyper-vigilant—”

April, however, is wise and knowing. She advises with all the seriousness, “don’t think that because your sister can’t remember nothing that you can just rewrite history.”

“Mama—”

“I’m speaking.” And Olivia quiets down because no matter how old she gets, her mother using that tone will never not be able to set her straight. “Hear me, and hear me good, lil’ girl. Ella is home with us now, yes, but she will be going back to California to be with Joe because he is her husband, and her place is with him.”

———-

Spring, 2023

“You want to what?”

Iris was already having a not so great day. Some inept, thinks he's a hot shot lawyer actually thinking that he can lowball and bully her into convincing a client to accept a deal that’s absolute horse shit.

She had to, of course, show him just why she’s the most sought after manager in entertainment. Ruthlessly.

The thought of his bubble eyes nearly bulging out of his head at her cutthroat response is almost enough for her to actually smile. A rare anomaly that happens every couple of years but is especially not going to happen after what she just heard.

Mariella rolls her eyes, again repeating herself. “I said I’ll do the tour.”

Iris knew she heard her right. It’s just the shock of it all that made her need some level of clarification. “I’m sorry, you do remember that this is a world tour, Ella, right?” And in case she forgot, Iris reminds, “you’d be on tour for nine months.”

“And?” Ella shrugs, continuing to write in her notebook, lyrics of some sort. “It’ll be a great opportunity to connect with my fans.”

“Fuck your fans, Ella.” Iris is quick and borderline nasty with it. “Who gives a fuck about them?” She sits down on the opposite end of the sofa. “I’m thinking about you.”

Iris sees the way that Ella tenses at that last part. “I’m fine, Iris.”

“Bullshit.” She then asks, almost tentatively. “Ella….have you sp—”

“No.” It’s a firm, harsh, borderline cruel shut down. A complete sentence compacted into a single word.

Iris closes her eyes. “I just think—”

“Get me the contract to sign, Iris. That’s all I need you to do.”

If only Iris was a ‘yes’ man. “You think this shit is healthy, Ella? You’re running away.”

“I don’t need your judgment.”

“I would never judge you.” And it’s the truth. Iris may judge quite literally everyone else who walks this earth. But not Ella nor Promise Rose, her best friends since she was a child. And especially….especially not Ella. Not after…..after what happened. “But, I just—you’re not happy, Ella.”

There’s a brief second of hesitation. “I wasn’t happy before it happened, Iris.”

Voice softening, Iris calmly contradicts her, “yes, you were.” Ella closes the notebook, pushing it to the side and pulling her legs up to her chest, looking away. Even without a clear look at her face, Iris knows the emotions are brewing. “I just—I think if you tell him—”

“No!” That’s what makes Ella snap her watery gaze back on her best friend turned manager. “I—I can’t. I won’t. He doesn’t deserve to know.”

Iris closes her eyes. “Ella—”

“Have you told anyone?”

Iris is almost offended that Ella could even fix her mouth to ask such a question. Ella knows how massive loyalty and trust are to her. “Of course, not. I would never. I just….I hate to see you like this.”

For as long as Iris has known Ella, she’s always been an annoying ass ray of sunshine. Always seeing the bright side of things. Glass always half full. But in recent months, especially after that….something in her has snapped, has gone away into deep hiding. And usually, this is when Iris would gladly push Ella in the arms of her husband. He’s always been Ella’s safe person.

Now, Iris can’t even get the two in the same room without an argument breaking out.

They’re both just so….angry with each other.

Or maybe it’s not anger.

Maybe it’s just hurt.

“That’s why I need to get away, Iris.” Ella all but whispers. “I need….I need a new environment. I feel like I’m surrounded by reminders.” She sniffles, quickly wiping at her eyes. “I just….it hurts too much to stick around and have to constantly relive it. I—” Her voice cracks. “Please….please just get me the contract.”

“I will.” Iris doesn’t agree with this, doesn’t like it at all, but she also knows her best friend can be determined as hell. If she doesn’t handle the tour negotiations, Mariella will do it on her own and sign just anything just to get away. To escape. “But, I still think you should talk to J—”

“I hate him!”

No one says anything.

Iris is truly stunned into silence. In the two decades that have transpired since the beginning of her friendship, She has never known Mariella to express such strong sentiments against another human being. It’s almost against her nature.

But to say such a thing towards Joe? Her person?

Iris now realizes just how deeply this hurt and trauma lies.

That maybe….that maybe their relationship truly is irreparable at this point. That lies, deception, betrayal, and everything else under the sun has destroyed something she once thought indestructible.

———-

Present

The last name Joe expected to see pop up on his phone is the exact name that’s flashing along with his contact photo for her which happens to be them a couple years back when they finally went on a long awaited honeymoon to Bora Bora. She’s in front of him, his arms around her, her smile big and wide, eyes closed as he kisses her cheek.

It’s one of his favorite pictures of them, and even after all this time, after everything that’s happened….he hasn’t been able to bring himself to change it.

Even….even when for a brief while, he thought he hated her.

There’s a second of delay as Joe hits the green button, officially accepting her FaceTime call.

His connection is the strongest it’s been all day because she’s almost instantly filling his phone screen.

“Hey….”

She smiles, and Joe takes a minute to take her in. The cuts and bruises on her face have almost entirely healed. She doesn’t look as pale as she was laid up in the hospital bed. Her curly hair is pulled into two space buns. “Hi. Is—is this a bad time?” She’s outside, clearly. In her parents backyard on the swing that holds a million and one memories.

Joe shakes his head. “No.” Even if it was, it wouldn’t make a difference. This is the first time she’s called him since being with her family. He’d make whatever work if need be. “How are you feeling?”

She chuckles, but it’s bitter. Almost resentful. “Overwhelmed.”

Joe sits up more, naturally asking, “you wanna talk about it?”

“Thank you for actually asking.” Her voice is soft as she leans back into the swing, answering truthfully, “I know they mean well, and they’re just trying to help, but—”

He finds it almost too easy to finish her statement. Knowing her, her tics and whatnot has always been so easy. “It’s too much.”

“I just….” She blows out a breath. “You seem a lot more chill, and….and you ask me what questions I have instead of just telling me shit that I don’t remember and feel any sort of way about, even though I know I should.”

“It’s….it’s gonna take time.” And that’s truly a guesstimate on Joe’s end, because the official medical recommendation on her amnesia is that it’s unknown when or if she’ll ever fully restore her memories.

And he’s still so damn torn on just how he feels about that.

“I was wondering…” She looks down, pausing. This is such an unfamiliar thing for Joe. He’s not used to her being so quiet. His wife is many things, and quiet is none of them. “I know you’re on the road and stuff, but…is there anyway I can like….join you for a bit?” She quickly adds, “I don’t know if that’s even a thing—”

“It is,” he finds himself answering. Quickly. Probably too quickly. “I travel on a bus for the most part, stay in hotels for the rest, so if you wanted—”

“I do,” she also answers quickly. “I just…I think I need something different. This.” She motions between herself and the camera. “This is a lot easier than having over 30 years of history shoved down my throat.”

Joe feels for her, hates hearing the conflict in her voice, and he doesn’t blame or fault her family. They’re probably doing the best they can. It’s just….not what she needs right now.

“When…..when can I come?”

The almost desperation in her voice catches his attention, creating a sense of excitement in his stomach that’s quickly quenched by the wise reminder that she’s not coming for him. She’s coming to get away. Not that the specific reason makes much of a difference. He just wants to see her.

“When do you want to come?”

She chews down on her bottom lip. “Would tomorrow be too soon?”

His eyes widen a bit as he clarifies. “Tomorrow?”

She nods. “I’m—I’m sure I can get a flight out.”

She could, but he has a better option. “You should use the jet.”

Ri is understandably confused. “Jet?”

Joe has to remind himself yet again to approach this a bit from a tabula rasa standpoint. “You have a private jet. Through your record label.” He does too, but that’s not what’s important right now. He’s also partially confused why they didn’t take it when flying home to Florida, but it’s not a major thing. Nothing worth thinking too much about.

She makes an ‘O’ with her mouth. “That’s right, we are, like, rich, aren’t we?”

He chuckles. “Now, yes.”

She gives a little smile, asking, “I guess there’s a story there?”

“There’s a lot of stories with us, Ri….” His voice is quiet as he clears his throat, not necessarily wanting to go down that road. “If you’re serious about coming—”

“I am.” She speaks up, shoulders dropping. “I just—I think it’d be nice to spend some time with you. Hear about that part of my life at my own pace.” He nods, understanding where she’s coming from, trying not to put too much into her comment about wanting to directly spend time with him. “Is it just you on the bus?”

“Basically. My cousins sometimes hang out, but they have their own bus, so I gladly kick them out when it starts getting late.”

She smiles, and Joe is close to screenshotting, wanting to add it to his collection when her smile dips into something else, eyes squinting. “J—Jon, right?” Joe sits up more. “And…..Jo—Josh?” He scoffs, in a partial state of disbelief and shock. “They’re….they’re twins, aren’t they?”

He nods, unable to speak. Did….did she really just remember something? On her own?

A frown falls on her face. “I don’t….can’t remember anything other than that and something….I don’t know, something about Uno?”

Joe laughs. The best laugh he’s had in some time, since this whole nightmare began. “Before your schedule got super crazy, you’d come on the road with me, and you and my cousins always played Uno, and it always ended up being a thing because you all suck and can never agree on the rules.”

She giggles, eyes twinkling with mischief. “And what about you? Are you any good?”

He scoffs. “Better than ya’ll.”

Her mouth drops open as she declares. “Okay, then we definitely need to play when I get there. Cause I feel like I might surprise ya’ll. Maybe I could beat you.”

Joe makes a sound. “You can try. You've never been able to beat me. None of ya’ll.”

She crosses her arms and exclaims with all the confidence. “Oh, I’ve gotta knock you down a peg. Are you always this arrogant?” She asks, head tilted.

His correction is calm and assured. “Not arrogant, baby. Confident.”

Her smile deepens, and Joe finds himself enjoying her company more than he has in some time. Even if it’s through a damn phone. “Yeah, well, you’ve got the looks to back it up. Let’s see if you have the talent.”

She has no idea. “Just remember you asked for this.”

“Whatever.” She rolls her eyes, and they exchange a prolonged locking of gazes. “I—-that’s the first thing I’ve remembered on my own, and you….you didn’t even have to try to force it.”

She swallows, voice softening. “I’d really like to come see you.”

He wants her to come too. More than she could know. “Text your sister. Everly. Not Olivia. See if she’ll fly out with you. If not, I’ll come. You don’t need to be traveling by yourself.”

Ri frowns. “I don’t—I was medically cleared to travel.”

“Yes, and you did so without incident because your team hadn’t announced you’d been released yet, but now the public knows you’re out. They spot you, and the fucking paparazzi will be all over you. You don’t need that.” Mariella has never enjoyed the constant flashing of lights and cameras in her face anyway.

He doesn’t want her dealing with that on her own. “Okay.” She then asks, “Why not ask Olivia?”

Joe debates how to approach this. “Your sister and I….we’ve never gotten along. If she knows you’re coming to see me, she’ll probably decline to travel with you. Everly is more or less a flower child. She’ll be fine with it.”

It’s the best answer he can come up with in the moment. He happens to think Olivia is a certified bitch who sticks her nose where it doesn’t belong, but he would never do anything to create a biased view of how she sees her sister.

Anyone in her family.

Ri chuckles, and he half expects her to ask why her sister doesn’t like her husband, but she instead hits him with something unexpected. “Do you know who Brendan is?”

And just like that, any relaxed state he had is ripped away with a single name. “Brendan?” She nods. “Where did you see him? How?”

She seems taken back by his questions, and he hates bombarding her, but that fucker is one person that always will be able to get Joe to act out of character.

She honestly offers more information than he was expecting. “I—today at the promenade out with my mom and sister. I get the sense my mom doesn’t like him, but Olivia seemed friendly. I guess they work together.”

Fucking Olivia….yeah, Joe’s definitely gonna have to bite the bullet and text her. Because in no way, shape, or form does he want that son of a bitch anywhere around his Ri. And the fact that he may even be a fucking attorney or lawyer blows Joe’s mind.

That creep should be the one in jail.

“He’s not a good person, and he needs to stay the fuck away from you.” Before she can ask anything else, he tells her, “let me know what Everly says. If not, I’ll have a flight out tomorrow morning.” He’s definitely got to get her out of there now. He wants to put and keep as much distance between Mariella and Brendan as possible, and if she remembered just why they broke up, she’d want the same.

Mariella nods. “I—I can call her now.”

“Do that.”

She swallows. “Okay.” Mariella opens her mouth and seems to hesitate for a minute. “Thank you, Joe.”

Her thanking him feels weird, because he’s never looked for that from her. Never really wanted it really. Just wanted her. Her love. Her trust.

Getting into that not so great place, he shakes his head, reminding, “just text me whenever you find out, I’ll keep my notifications on.

This seems to please her. “Okay.” She gives him another smile. Of a parting and appreciative nature. “Bye.”

“Bye.” She ends the call, and despite him deep down knowing he should wait until he’s calmed down a bit to message Olivia, Joe’s fingers seem to move faster than his brain.

#roman reigns x black!oc #roman reigns #roman reigns fanfic #roman reigns fic #arisnotebook

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omegalomania · 2 years ago

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the full apple music interview with zane lowe is out! we got snippets of it when love from the other side dropped, but they finally rolled out the full thing. here are some highlights that stood out to me :)

patrick describes pete's lyrics as what gets him out of bed in the morning. if pete doesn't send him lyrics, he doesn't write a song.

andy and pete used to draw fake snake tattoos on each other using magic markers as kids omg?

so evidently patrick was the one who got covid during hella mega tour. and he hated it and he was miserable and that's when he called neal avron about the new record lmao

patrick says that joe was hesitant at first and he was the one who said that for this record he wanted to make something that they could all savor and spend time on and patrick was immediately on board with that

pete says patrick's job is to interpret him because pete calls his mentality a "little bit off" but patrick is capable of understanding him and translating it

patrick describes his and pete's creative relationship as "twin speak." it's not linear and it's like living in his brain a little bit. he calls it the "weirdest thing i've ever seen" when pete can just Tell that some words that patrick adjusted weren't ones he wrote despite not remembering writing them. patrick says he's gotten better at connective tissue and knowing how pete would say things

pete: back in the day patrick was like, "what's the difference between cry and weep i will KILL YOU. THEY'RE THE SAME THING. I'M GONNA KILL YOU RIGHT NOW."

zane says patrick's vocals are next level for this album. pete agrees that he kills it on this album and said he never would've expected that voice coming from him when they first met. zane says patrick could sing a recipe and it would be good. he then passes patrick a recipe and patrick. sings it???

patrick: i'm not gonna belt it. (starts belting) NINE INCH PIE PLATE ROLLING PIN

patrick says that pete doesn't mean to have rhythm to his words but there's a rhythm to them all the same and patrick can find this syncopation in his words and thinks it's amazing

more talking about patrick and pete's Magical Mystical Transcendent Soul Bond. patrick says "if we were one guy, we'd be an INCREDIBLE DUDE"

patrick and pete say that interviews with all four of them are hard because it's chaos and everyone's talking at once but it all makes perfect sense to them and no one else. zane says that sounds like fun flkjdfd [i agree please do this more it's a joy]

pete says joe really stepped up and wrote a lot for this record!

patrick: "joe is kind of a conundrum because he's this really talented...he's a brilliant writer, a brilliant player, but pete and i became the "team" and it wasn't really a plan, but that's just kind of how it happened. [brief tangent about the hiatus] we come back from the thing and joe is this fully-formed writer with a very distinct - he has one of the most distinctive writing voices. when i hear his parts, when i hear his ideas, i could pick them out of a crowd. like i know the way joe writes, and it's VERY joe." part of the process with post-hiatus was integrating him into the writing process more.

discussing the hiatus and fame and pete says his life kind of "blew up" and took it pretty hard. apparently during production for folie paparazzi actually broke down the gate to neal avron's house

patrick goes on a big tangent about how bad things got during the height of pete's fame. "part of my role is to tell his story. i'm a composer. that's what i like to do. i work on movies, i work on shows, and i work on pete. pete has a story that needs music, and if he's removed from himself, if he's not even able to access himself because he's behind all of this stuff, i don't have a story! so not only did i not have my buddy, which was heartbreaking in its own way, but then i also don't have a purpose as an artist."

patrick says that andy is always ready to play but when you get him happy to play, it's another level

"and trohman, there were these moments where he...he got so excited."

patrick describes writing what a time to be alive as wanting to write the saddest, most desperate song you could hear at a wedding. pete bursts into laughter and calls it "so twisted"

talking about other endeavors outside the band - patrick talks about composing and said joe's been super busy with his book and writing for tv and because there are so many deadlines for stuff like that, it's what hammered home to him that fall out boy needs to not be that. "there's something special about this that can't be...this has to be passionate and art."

discussing how scared patrick was of his own voice while the band took off. patrick was really scared of the song saturday at first because there are some really exposed vocal moments. he describes saturday as a song where everyone in the band lets each other go for it.

zane calls fall out boy the "emo blueprint" and says they were unapologetic in being emotional. patrick immediately says, "that was pete. i don't think we could've done that without him." he and joe were basically kids and patrick was too anxious to talk on stage.

zane says, "i remember interviewing you in the early days and i felt like every time i asked you a question i was bullying you." pete IMMEDIATELY loses his shit.

"in another life where i didn't have a pete...cause saturday, i did write most of that by myself...so there's a world where that song exists without the band. there's no world where i sing it in front of people without pete."

pete says every night before they put out a new song he calls patrick up and gets really scared and wants to back out and patrick talks him down every time

they talk about how scary it was when arm's race released and performing it at the amas. patrick starts laughing rly hard as they get into how there were giant crickets on stage and the crowd was just stone-faced and utterly nonresponsive and their stage manager was utterly panicked

towards the end patrick really loosens up and starts swearing more dlkfjdfd

#fall out boy #*making poasts #they kept being SO SWEET ABOUT EACH OTHER LIKE. I CANT HANDLE IT #patrick and pete are like lets tell everybody about our magical soulbond for 1 hour straight. thanks guys.

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wcters · 8 months ago

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𝗝𝗨𝗦𝗧 𝗟𝗘𝗧 𝗠𝗘 𝗕𝗘 (𝗖𝗟𝗢𝗦𝗘 𝗧𝗢 𝗬𝗢𝗨)

pairing: joe liebgott x fem!reader

word count: 2.7k+

summary: four times you question what you two are and the one time you finally figure it out

warnings/notes: established relationships, angst (were dealing with war), kissing, pda, some drug use (cigarettes), alcohol, swearing, weapons, violence | no disrespect to the actual veterans or any of the situations described and written here, this is based on the series and the character of joe liebgott. somewhat ib @softguarnere (if you would like me to change it/take it down i will. it’s not really similar but still). if anyone has any tips for writing for band of brothers, please let me know! longest imagine written so far, and a dedication to my boys skip and penkala

You never knew home could be a person . . . until you joined the army and were surrounded by it, by many different people, and the one person you trusted most ━━ Joseph Liebgott. It was unexpected. To outsiders, they wouldn’t even think you two would speak ━━ let alone be friends. Yes, both of you are different in many ways, but you’re also the same in many ways. Skip Muck, one of your other close friends in Easy Company, joked that part of your souls were intertwined and you two would eventually fall in love. In the beginning, you would laugh it off. But you soon realized how true that was.

1. 1942, TOCCOA, GEORGIA

The army was ruthless. You knew that it would be when you joined Easy Company a couple months earlier, but you didn’t expect it to be this bad . . . only because of a certain officer named Sobel. You swear he had it out for all of you, and lots of the men hadn’t done anything bad ━━ that you knew of. Most of the time your weekend passes were revoked for little things such as some dirt on your gun and a stray string (that wasn’t actually there, you checked multiple times), but this weeked you and Joe were lucky to still have yours. You don’t even know how you both managed that, let alone him.

You two were walking hand in hand down the dimly lit street. You were quietly humming a song as you looked at the various stores as you made your way to one of the bars your group frequented. A few other army guys could be seen walking with each other or a local girl hanging on their arm. On any other night you would’ve looked like any other soldier in the soft lights, but you had switched out your uniform for a dress you had hidden in your barracks. You had thought ‘why not? It’ll probably be the last time I get a chance to wear it’ and threw it on with some heels you borrowed from a girl you knew in town with a promise to return them.

The quietness of the street got smaller and smaller as you made you got closer to the bar. “Crowded tonight, huh?” The man beside spoke out loud, swinging your clasped hands. “I think to us it does, but to them it doesn’t.” You joked while letting out a chuckle. Joe did too before grabbing the door of the bar and opening it for you. You mumbled a “thank you” while music filled your ears. “I’ll find us a seat, you get us drinks.” You told Joe as he nodded and you went to search for a booth.

It wasn’t as hard as you thought it would be, and soon enough you and Joe were chatting and laughing while couples danced around you. Joe looked around as you sipped your beer before he got up out of the booth and lent out a hand to you. “Would you like to dance?” He smiled. You laughed before looking around. “Why not?” You agreed and got up, making your way to the dance floor as a slow song began to play.

While leaned your head on his chest as you danced with couples around you, you couldn’t help but wonder what you two were.

2. 1943, BROOKLYN NAVAL SHIPYARD, NEW YORK

The heat of the boat taking you to England was suffocating with all of the soldiers packed in it, but Joe managed to have an arm around you waist while you two were playing cards with Muck and Bill. You were just an observer, butting out after the third game and got lost every one.

“Jesus Bill! You must be cheating!” Joe yelled as the brunette man placed another card down, Muck agreeing sourly. You laughed at that while stealing the cigarette out of Joe’s mouth and taking a hit. “You’re just sorry losers.” Bill laughed at their faces. “You don’t get to laugh y/n, you quit because you kept losing.” Skip pointed at you as he saw your face. “At least I accepted defeat, asshole.” You could feel the small laugh that came out of Joe’s chest and imagined the smirk that was on his face. “She got you there, Skip.”

They continued playing for a little while, you and Joe taking turns smoking until Bill won again and Skip slammed his cards down onto the cot. “Calm down.” You told him, soft smile on your face. “I am calm, it’s just Bill keeps winning and it’s fucking hot in here,” the man gestured to the people around you,” I don’t know how you two are that close. I swear I’m going to die of overheating and you two are practically cuddling.” You made a face to your friend while Joe laughed and made a comment that you couldn’t hear.

You and Joe were really close, you basically almost on his lap at this point, but you had a reason. The boat was packed, not being much room to move around. You didn’t want to climb up all the way onto your cot, and you wanted to keep talking with your friends. Plus, you and him had to be close ━━ you were sharing a cigarette. “We’re sharing a cigarette.” You shrugged, grabbing the object out of his mouth as he yelled a “hey” as you took it. Skip gave you a look as if to say “that’s bullshit” and got up, going to find Penkala. You looked over to Bill and he looked down at his cards, smirk on his face.

You had a reason to be that close . . . right? Or was it something different?

3. 1944, NORMANDY, FRANCE

The gravel crunched underneath your boots. You had just landed somewhere in Normandy ━━ you weren’t sure, you had missed your DZ ━━ and were now on the lookout to hopefully find Easy Company and not some German looking to end your life. That’s why you had you gun aimed into the distance. Every little breeze that shook the branches had yoy freezing up and darting you eyes, only to figure out it was the wind or some rabbit that looked as scared as you. It made you feel a little less alone.

When another bush shook, this time a little longer than usual, you crouched instead of just freezing up, gun still trained to where the sound was coming from. You waited before slowly moving forward, trying to minimize the sound of the road beneath you. You saw the bottom of a pair of boots and it seemed you were both waiting for the other to speak first. That decision was chosen for you.

“Flash.” “Thunder.” You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding when you heard that and then saw the multiple pairs of boots. “Y/n?” Someone called out within the group. You squinted trying to see who it was. “Bill!” You exclaimed in surprise before recognizing the few other people with him: Marlarkey, Wynn, Toye, Lipton, some people from the 82nd Airborne, and Hall, a man not from your company but you recognized him from Able Company. You quietly said your greetings before continuing on your way to try and find your rallying point.

After finding and following a set a train tracks, a situation happened where Bill shot before Winter’s Command, you reprimanding him again and jokingly pushing his head as he called you a “stupid mick” which you laughed at. Now the group was on the road to the rallying point. The whole time you had been thinking about Joe. God, you wished he was still alive. You didn’t know what you were going to do if he wasn’t. When you eventually got to the farm, you heard a familiar voice. You stopped as you saw each other before you began to run and give him a hug.

You could hear the mumblings of the other soldiers, but at that moment, you didn’t care. When you pulled away you grabbed his face. “Joeseph Liebgott, I would’ve killed you if you died.” You laughed with tears in your eyes as you checked him for and scratches and scars. “I wouldn’t dream of it doll.” He laughed too before pulling you back in.

You decided at that moment in time that it didn’t care what you two were, as long as you had him, you didn’t care. As long as you knew he was okay.

4. 1944, ARDENNES FOREST, BELGIUM

All you could see was white: the sky, the ground, even the trees that surrounded you, that partly acted as a wall. You were sick of it. You think you would feel this way for the rest of your life ━━ the look and feel of the freezing chill of the snow and forest. Maybe you would move to somewhere warmer, somewhere where it doesn’t snow and the lowest it would get would be 59 degrees Fahrenheit.

Imagining what you would do in the future always helped you get somewhat through the hard times, though a person was the one thing that was a blanket to you. He had told you he left to talk to Lipton, but he hadn’t been back for awhile.

As if the world hated you having a small moment of what little peace you could have, a light broke through the white sky. A yell of “incoming!” from someone near you, either Skip or Penkala, caused you to sink further into your foxhole, well what you could, and cover your ears as the bombing started. When you heard yelling with words like “c’mon!” and “hurry!” you looked up to see Skip and Penkala yelling out to Luz who was out in the open. “Luz!” You yelled to him, “get over here! It’s closer!” He followed your voice and jumped in, but as soon as you both turned around you saw Skip and Penkala get hit with a shell. You knew they didn’t make it.

It was over as soon as it happened, but you were so distracted with what had happened that you didn’t feel the burning on your side until George had asked you if you were okay. You groaned when you first felt the searing pain and lifted up your coat to see the blood soaking it. “Oh, shit. Medic!” You had been with a piece of flying shrapnel from the shell that hit the two. You didn’t have time to register how one of your best friends were killed before Doc Roe was at your side with Luz holding you so you wouldn’t move too much. “Christ, y/n.” Gene mumbled as he got a look at it before grabbing a bandage and wrapping it the best he could.

You were frozen now ━━ not from the cold, or the wound on your side that would cause you to get taken off, you were frozen with the realization of what just happened. You wanted to cry, scream, do anything, but you just . . . couldn’t. Everything around you was fuzzy and you didn’t register that the shelling stopped and you were being taken out until you saw Joe. Then, tears managed to fall and you started to sob. He was mumbling about how you were going to be okay and everything was fine as he followed you to the Jeep.

When you felt the rumble of the Jeep engine, you grabbed Joe’s hand as tight as you could. “I love you, you shithead.” You laughed as you told him. You didn’t know whether you would see him again, and you wanted him to know how you truly felt about him, and how much he ment to you. He froze for a second before leaning down and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I love you too. I’ll kill you if you die.”

You laughed one more time as the image of him started to get smaller and smaller as he let go of your hand, slapped the Jeep, and it started to move. You tried to memorize what you could see: his shadow, the way he stands . . . him. You closed your eyes and felt a tear make its way down your face, settling in with the other dry ones.

+1. 1945, BAVARIA, AUSTRIA

The almost-healed wound on your side was a reminder of what you’ve been through, and what you’d missed. You’d been stuck in the hospital since mid December. You attempted to go AWOL multiple times, but you had failed every time.

Your shrapnel scar had ended being worse than Doc Roe thought and you had to be transported to surgery. When you woke up and heard what happened, you immediately wanted to go back and find your company . . . and Joe. You knew you left on a weird note, and wanted to figure it out. That was looming on your mind, along with the grief you finally had time to face. Not really face, more like confront. It was one of the only things you thought about while in there. You hadn’t fully come to terms with it, but you had made some progress.

You had thought about how George was doing, and especially Malarkey. He was Skip and Penkala’s best friend ━━ you were a close second. Bastogne was a horrible place in itself, but having to deal with that while there, to you, was a death wish. You were worried for everyone, the people you left behind.

You had just gotten to Bavaria when you saw Colonel Sink, and he saw you. As one of the very few women in the army, you could say he had a soft spot for you (though you would never say it to his face). You had been told a very uninformative idea of where the airborne was located, but you had been wandering since you got dropped off.

“Sergeant y/n, is that you?” Sink had called out to you as the car stopped. You saluted before you replied with a “yes sir.” “You lookin’ for Easy soldier?” You answered with a yes and conversed for a little bit ━━ mostly about your time in the hospital and what you missed ━━ before he invited you into the Jeep to get a ride up the mountain that looked over you.

That’s where you were know as you made your way up the hill, the familiar rumble of the Jeep underneath you. You couldn’t deny the feeling of excitement and happiness in your stomach as you got closer. You soon heard voices over the engine and on the horizon silhouettes appeared. When the car stopped, you gave a quick thank you, saluted, and made your way to where some of Easy was sitting.

“Having fun without me?” You asked out loud as people turned to you. There were calls of excitement as they saw you and people made their way to greet you, but one of the faces you were looking for was Joe. You eventually saw him getting up from sitting in front of a wheel and you both made eye contact before people split and let there be a clear path to him. You didn’t have to say anything to let him know you were running towards him before jumping on him and giving him a hug. He held you right, as if you were going to leave again, and spinned you around as you both laughed.

He was still holding you, arms around your waist, but had let your feet touch the floor. “Hi.” You smiled. “Hey doll.” Those were the only things said before you lips crashed together and there were cheers from your friends around you. When you parted, your foreheads fell against each other. “I was so worried, I was afraid you weren’t going to come back.” He admitted. “You can’t get rid of me that easy Joe.” You joked before kissing him quickly again and then went on a mission to find Malarkey.

He was leaning against the side of a car, cigarette in his hand. You gave him a tight hug, saying everything you needed to but couldn’t, before parting. You sat and talked while Joe kept a close eye on you.

“Skip was right, y’know.” Malarkey said as he let out some smoke. “What do you mean?” You asked, looking at everyone and the view. “About you and Joe. How your souls are intertwined. I always laughed at it but seeing you two now, he was right.” You blushed and looked down before your eyes met Joe’s and he winked at you.

“I guess so. But hey, never doubt Skip. He always said that. Guess this is a nice payback.” “Guess so.”

You never thought a person could be home, but as you walk in front of the fireplace, your baby girl in your arms, you realize that it could be ━━ that it is. And you are ever so thankful you figured out what you two were.

#emma writes #band of brothers #band of brothers x reader #joe liebgott #joe liebgott x reader #x reader #x fem!reader #imagine #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers fan fiction #donald malarkey #skip muck #alex penkala #Joe liebgott fanfiction #band of brothers fic #hbo war #ww2

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