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prettyboykatsuki · 1 year ago

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— ❈ YOU'RE SO PRETTY, BABY.

▸ prompt ; companions and their responses to being called pretty boy / pretty girl.

▸ a/n ; bit of a generic post im sorry forreal. while i was originally just going to write this for astarion i had ideas for. all the other companions.

most of the characters have a reader w a specific class or background, all varied! also spoilers for gale, shadowheart, karlach, and lae'zel.

reader / tav is always gender neutral!

▸ wc ; about 4.5k, about 700+ words per companion.

ft. astarion, wyll, gale, shadowheart, karlach, lae'zel

no minthara or halsin bc i could not bring myself to write it. but maybe later if enough people ask lol.

❈ ASTARION ;

Astarion tries his very best to find your affection for him trite, even when he knows it doesn't feel that way. It's an instinct for him, one you'll simply have to make peace with you if you're really planning on tailing him to the end of the world.

Truth be told though, he likes your generally affectionate nature. He hasn't reached a point he can admit this so openly, but the comfortable and easy way you reach for him is nice. He likes how your hands seem to stretch for him, the way you cling to his spine when you sleep in his tent and the likes.

And while he is not stranger to hypocrisy, he thinks it'd be amiss to try and bar you from calling him any pet names when he calls you so many. He's got quite a few handy. Darling is a favorite, followed by dear, and sometimes my love when he can muster up the courage to mean it instead of saying it like he's trying to perform.

You like to call Astarion by his name though, most often. He isn't exactly sure why you're so fond of it, and truthfully he's done little to consider his own name. You say it wonderfully though, tasteful and loving and soft.

Sometimes you gasp it in offense or horror or shock, other times in pleasure. Sometimes you whimper it in your sleep, groping around until your hands fist in the material of his shirt and you drag him back to you.

In any case, he's used to hearing his name. So hearing you utter the words pretty boy to him, he can't help but be a little shocked.

You're a little tipsy. A hard, arduous journey of fighting githyanki soldiers has taken a terrible toll on your normal inhibitions. You're quite flushed while you're drunk, and all the same sitting in his lap like you've not a care in the world.

Astarion doesn't mind holding you. In fact, he's thinking of all the terribly teasing things he can say to you come morning. So far, you've done nothing but mumble. It's a sudden movement, your hands clasped around his face.

"Feeling forward are we darling?" He says, like second nature. It's so reactionary it's banal, though he does have some enthusiasm since the flirtation is directed at you. Instead of your usual giggling, you stare at him with your lips parted.

"I suppose I am pretty boy," You reply, a completely foreign confidence in your voice that stops him dead in his tracks. Underneath the thick layer of flirtation is sincerity so unmistakable it almost proves to be too much "Could I ask you to keep me company?"

Astarion is, eternally grateful about the fact you don't get much more than that out of you. He spends the entire night thinking about it. You're certainly not the first to call him pretty, and that particular phrasing has been thrown to him more than once.

Yet it rings a little differently. The way you said it so tenderly, your hands stroking the nape of his neck and cupping his face. Well, it's not nothing. He can't decide if he hates it or not until the next morning comes.

Your eyes flutter open as light pours through the open part of his tent. You reach over to him with a deep sigh, engaging in some quiet morning affection when you repeat yesterdays sentiment.

"Good morning, my very pretty boy," You say - and this time Astarion is sure whatever he is feeling he has not ever felt previously "Sorry for the antics last night."

"So your memory hasn't failed you. Good to know." Astarion says back. You laugh lightly. "Your charming little pet name worried me quite a bit."

"Nothing to worry about my love." You say, warm and nuzzling into his neck likely to cool yourself from over-heating "I really do find you very pretty."

He can't help the feeling that floods his sense. He likes it even though he feels a little clingy, but perhaps there's no need to admit that.

"Oh, really, darling? How sweet you are. Tell me again, then. Just for kicks this time."

❈ WYLL ;

it's a matter of getting used to it for Wyll.

For the first month of your adventuring together, pretty boy, had been a somewhat condescending substitute for his name. Among other ones, like daddy's boy and prince. None of the pet names held any real affection.

You liked getting under his skin, after all.

You didn't get on at first, not for a long while. You're a rogue, a ratty street urchin turned mercenary who'd spent your youth climbing through the soil and mud of the Lower City's underbelly. Your words verbatim, not his. At first, your resentment for him caught him off guard, especially because Wyll prefers to keep the peace and get along with everyone. But, he had a difficult time understanding you, even with his people skills

Eventually it clicked that your resentment was less towards him, and more towards what he represents. You're a Baldurian, but one abandoned by the city and it's people. What else could the Ravengards represent if not the future you never had a chance to look towards.

It was easier after that. And Wyll had promised to himself to observe you closer. In that, he found to like you a great deal.

He's fond of pet names in general, but more fond of you lately. At the beginning of your adventure, it was a little difficult to get accustomed to your... roughness. You lack delicacy, but you're not exactly silver tongued.

Yet, you're not as cruel as you make yourself out to be. Contrarily, while you've traveled together, Wyll bore witness to only gentleness. Nothing more. The words you spoke about only doing things for coin had been clearly disproved by your countless acts of charity. Especially gentle and kind to children, and especially unforgiving to the rich and unhelpful.

Once he got used to it, there was something kind of...sweet about it. To see you say one thing and do another had it's own novelty that Wyll grew fond of you.

It was the night of tiefling party that roused his feelings. That night, he'd watched you play with the tiefling children all night, teaching them tricks of the trade.

And you'd started falling for him, too, judging by the way your usual snark was nowhere to be found.

Especially vivid is the change in your tone when you call him the same way you did before.

"We'll take a short rest for you, pretty boy." Your voice murmurs, looking carefully over his wounds while place down your own weapons "Get your spells back. Organize our things in the mean time."

He gives you look, examining your own worry before his smile stretches into one of fondness. It doesn't bother him at all, not anymore. No, lately - it sounds rather fond, and each time Wyll hears it, it does something for ego.

"No need for the concern, though I am appreciative," He says, not bothering to mask the smug quality in his voice at your change. He delights in it a little, admittedly . "I'll be alright soon enough."

You don't seem to notice, too busy wiping your blade of fresh blood, metal shiny as moonlight. "And there's no need for your heroism, Blade of Frontiers. Have some discernment about time and place."

You look up at him with your brows furrowed, and Wyll can barely help himself. "Are you worried I'll lose what's left in my appearances? I'm just telling you there's no need to trouble yourself over it."

It takes you a while to register to his words, but when it finally does - your eyes blow wide. The look of embarrassment on your face is well worth it.

"I thought you hated when I called you that." You say coolly.

"It's not so bad," He says back tenderly, staring at you "At least not anymore."

You pout a little. Wyll fights some unspoken urge to kiss you. A little longer.

"I prefer when you're acting oblivious,"

"Sorry to disappoint."

He lets his head lay on the wall behind him - reaching a hand for yours instead, trying to rest up as promised. He sees you smiling from the corner of his eye and affirms it to himself. You squeeze, soft, but otherwise say nothing about it.

Yes, lately, nothing you say could get under his skin. Even when you so obviously try.

❈ GALE ;

Gale is always the poet, never the muse.

He thought highly of his relationship with Mystra, and in many ways still does. He loved her. This much is true. He can't say for any certainty if she had loved him just as much, or at all. He wasn't the first mortal, and would hardly be the last.

But he loved her, enough to write about her and wax poetic about all that he'd lost.

When Gale examines any of his past relationship, he realizes this is some kind of pattern. Gale is good at being loving, but he does not know for certain if any of them loved him back. Or if he was loved in the way he loves - if it was anything near close. Gale had thought, at one point, it was just matter of destiny. Gale is after all, a man who bleeds with all he has.

He can't blame anyone for loving him less than when he is categorically too much. He thought that way for a long time, destined himself to never find love again or beg for Mystra's forgiveness for some new found purpose.

When you came into his life, he hadn't been sure what would come of your relationship. Certainly a brain parasite would make camp a difficult place for romance, but the two of you managed against all odds. Among all the things that Gale finds astonishing about your relationship - it's your affection for him that catches him the most off-guard.

It's a little sad, he can admit. But it's true. When you speak to Gale, your voice is always soft. It's never demanding. Before, always, there had been some kind of expectation. Gale had to be a certain way, to pour himself into someone else for the sake of it being returned.He loved. Surely he loved.

But now, lately, you love him back. Overwhelmingly. The easiness of your love makes him feel a little... spoiled. Which is embarrassing, at the stage of life he's in. He finds the whole thing tips him over the edge. The heat creeping up his neck every time he remembers. Your hand brushing against the back of his neck, cupping his face so gently.

Gale, perhaps unsurprisingly, is fond of your various pet names. All of them sound good. Make him feel important and desired. You like to call him a bookworm, sometimes you call him baby (which he really likes much more than he is ever willing to admit), and other times you settle on saying my love.

Pretty boy is new. Pretty boy is different, and makes heat crawl up the back of Gale's neck like a smitten school boy.

It has a special effect on Gale.

In between classes, spoken with your hands cupping his face as he leans on his desk. The sunlight is pouring through the large paneled windows, casting a warmth on your expression. Gale is sat on his desk, making you eye-level.

"I'm glad you've come to see me," Gale says to you first, breaking a period of comfortable silence. You're a busy person, given all the heroics. Gale finds it troublesome, despite the fact you've moved with him to Waterdeep. Your reputation precedes you "It's been ages,"

"Of course I'd come to see you, pretty boy," You hum, thumb brushing under his cheek - carefully drawing a line "You're very healing to look at."

The effect is rather immediate. As soon as the words leave your lips, spoken to him so lovingly - he unlocks a part of himself he always seems to forget about. Forgets himself in a fundamental way, the flurry of heat and euphoric sensation of adoration washing over him like water.

He gives you a look, and you laugh - pressing your thumb to his lower lip as you lean in for a kiss. "Stop pouting, will you?"

"I'm doing nothing of the sort," He insists, kissing you despite him. You laugh into, warm and bubbly. For a minute, he remembers all he might've lost had he done what Mystra told him.

He's glad he's alive. To feel you.

"You very much are," You reply back, once you've managed to pull away from each other "Don't be so surprised. You've always been very pretty to me."

He blushes again, deeper, and closes his eyes.

❈ SHADOWHEART ;

You don't often communicate your feelings to Shadowheart through words.

You're something of a stoic. Of the few people in Shadowheart's past who remain by her side, many of them communicate about how surprised they are about your partnership. Shadowheart is known to be a little snarky, witty. She used to be very prickly, at the start of your adventure together - so everyone questions how you were able to win her heart.

Truthfully, Shadowheart didn't know what to make of your personality at first. There's a silence to you. Maybe she should expect this of paladin so loyal. A Paladin of Torm, the unswerving enemy of injustice and corruption. You've always been a devout person, putting action and justice over everything. She hated it at first, a natural response for a Sharran, she figures.

Once she'd left it all behind, she could no longer use it as an excuse.

Truth be told, Shadowheart had always liked that aspect of you. Your devotion spoke to something greater than your oath or even your god. You had simply believed in the world, and inadvertently in her. You saved her from herself, her parents from her fate, and then some.

Your devotion to her as a lover isn't something so different. She often thinks you would swear yourself to her if you could. For Shadowheart, your affection is akin to worship. Every morning, the animals are tended and the flower bed is damp. You wake her mother up without a start, remind her of where she is without making her feel ashamed. You're good to her father, talk to him of worldly politics at the dinner table.

She has no complaints to make about you. Your love for her is tangible, something she can reach out and touch with her fingers.

She's unused to hearing your affections, though. Unused to hearing the words.

You lay together in the darkness. You're alone tonight, the entire cabin empty. Her mother and father have gone together on an outing together, after you accompanied them into the city. You've finally returned, put the horses up in the stable, and have to come to her side.

Shadowheart likes to lay in your arms. She lets herself curl into your weight, inhales the scent of your skin - earthy and rich as you let your arm fold around her waist. She lays ontop of you today, her whole body on yours like a blanket.

She looks up at you, her her tied loosely. She can practically feel how glowy her own expression is as she examines you - sees her reflection in your irises.

You let your hand lay over her back, reaching up underneath her nightwear to lay touch her skin. She gives you a look - her smile small, sincere. Your own expression is tired from travel, but fond. You insisted on taking her parents instead of letting them go alone.

She loves you more than she cares to admit.

"You're staring." She comments blithely "See something you like?"

Normally you'd flush a little at this, silent as you kiss her forehead or cheek. This time though, you use your fingers to brush the stray hairs from her face and nod.

"Yes, pretty girl," You hum, nonchalantly. Sagely. "I really do,"

She's so caught off guard, she can't help but gape. She lifts herself slightly to stare at you in shock.

"I've never heard you talk like that. Not once while we've been together. I mean.. you've called me beautiful but," Shadowheart stumbles, a fluttery feeling in her stomach she'd rather ignore "But it's never like that,"

"I think it more often that I say it,"

"And you always think to call me that?"

"Like I said, often," You look over he carefully, before your lips pull into an easy smile "You're pretty to the point I want to tell you all the time,"

Shadowheart is scarcely embarrassed by anything. She's a practiced woman at this point in her life. It's almost juvenile the way the words effect her. It's you saying it that makes all the difference. The way you've said it that makes her squirm. She lets out a little puff of air, silent as you laugh.

"Pretty girl," You repeat, warm and gentle and laced with exhaustion "You're the most beautiful girl I've ever met."

Shadowheart tucks her face into your neck, voice as soft a murmur as the sound of her own heart rings in her ears.

"Don't make a habit of talking like that," She huffs "I already know, but I suppose it doesn't hurt to hear."

You smile brightly. "I'm glad,"

❈ KARLACH ;

Karlach adores you, utterly and completely.

She's a little caught off-guard by it. Just when she'd convinced herself she couldn't love you more, you surprise her all over again. She'd probably harbored some sort of affection for you from the start of your adventure together, when you'd gone to bat for her and make sure Wyll didn't take her head as a trophy.

Since then, though - on your journey together, she'd taken careful notice of you. And gods, she likes you. You're very different she must admit. Where Karlach is strong and fiery, you're cool and calculated. She figured that's just what magic users are like, but Gale is pretty keen on correcting this assumption. You're a sorcerer, specifically, means the whole magic thing is in your composition and not your study.

Which explained why your head isn't the books like their local wizard. She does find you to be rather charming. You're good at talking your way in and out of almost everything, and you can outwit even the cleverest people on camp. You'd think it'd make you... annoying. Or cruel. And sure, you're a little calculating - but mostly, you're sweet.

Karlach's really never met anyone like you before. Her companionship is a little limited because before the Blood Wars, she was a rag-tag kid in the street of the city. But you grew up in a noble house, learned to charm and finesse your way through everything. You know how to read situations before they've even happened.

And you always explain them to her afterwards.

You make Karlach nervous, strangely. Which is wild! When it comes to socializing, she can get along with almost anyone. You though, you always see right through her. You know when she's using her own personality as a shield, and you always know just when to intervene. Or when to say nothing, and just let her sit with you.

The day she blew up at you, after defeating Gortash - you'd handled it better than she could've hoped. You were comforting, and kind, and let her feel it out without making her feel bad. With you, she felt hopeful despite knowing that the end was probably going to come for her eventually.

With you, she thinks she could endure even the end of the world.

You're in the city now, no longer sleeping in the woods. When everyone else has gone to bed, Karlach finds you in the study, a room attached to the main living quarters.

She knocks before entering. Your voice is soft as you tell her to come in. Dressed in your comfy night clothes, your hair damp from washing up. You're bent over the desk with a furrow in your brow that Karlach finds sweet.

"Hey, baby," She asks, her heart thumping soft "Hope I'm not disturbin' your research."

"Of course not," You reply back, encouraging her towards you "I'm actually due a break."

Wordlessly, you sit up from your chair, pointing for Karlach to sit. She follows through, a little confused as to what you're doing before you plop yourself back into her lap. She throws her head back in laughter.

"Don't know what I was expecting there," She giggles, arm curling around your waist "All cozy?"

"Mm," You melt yourself into her embrace, turning to look at her. Your eyes are soft, free hand cupping her face "I'm cozy. What's keeping you up, pretty girl?"

The words catch her off guard completely, her engine flaring from the heat.

"Shit, what's with that?" She glances down at you, smiling like the cheeky fucker you are "I can't get any redder, you know? It's making my engine burn."

"You like it, no?" Your voice is smooth, smug in a way that gets her hot "My pretty girl,"

Karlach stares at you as you say it. Traces the curve of your lips, the slight arch of your brow. Asses the weight and warmth of you as you lay your legs over her lap and feels her body start to react. She didn't think it was possible to feel so complete by someone, even among the impending doom at the end of the world.

With you it fades away to nothing. Permission to want freely, she had no idea she had wanted that so bad. She had no idea she could want more when you'd already given her so much.

It's nice to be greedy. A little greed is fine, after everything.

"If you keep talking to me like that, we're going to do a lot more than just sitting, you know?" She tells you seriously.

You smile and laugh but don't deny her "Only if you say please,"

❈ LAE'ZEL ;

The Githyanki do not fall in love.

It's a fact of the culture, a mark of their honor. Love is for the soft, tender fleshed species of the material planes. It does not suit warriors, not the ruthless githyanki who spend their entire lives training the sword and learning magic. Love had always been a flimsy concept to Lae'zel. To the point she'd never thought about it or cared too. For the gith, there is only pleasure and carnal desire. The foolishness of longing can only be harbored in the lesser existence of the outer-world. The world outside of her creche.

For a long time, this was true for Lae'zel. She had never intended her time in the material plane to weaken her in the ways in which it did. Or that the experience of a ghaik parasite trapped behind her eyes would will her into cooperation with lesser beings. In many ways egregious, unfathomable. In trying to rid herself of one parasite, she'd found herself another one - more intolerable and more consuming than the first.

You. What a foreign and remarkable bond. From the beginning she had told you the truth, that the gith do not love and she would not be able to love you. Though she could admit passion, admit admiration for your courage, admit possession - she could not admit love. She knew nothing of it.

Over the course of your journey, you'd managed to prove her wrong. Slowly stripped bare of the identity she'd made her life around, you stripped Lae'zel down to her soul. Her most honored solider, and most formidable ally. When the time came, you'd told her to do what she must, to liberate her people. That you'd be there when she returned.

That you'd wait for her.

Months apart with few visits in between meant that each time Lae'zel sees you must make every minute count. Enjoying your body and indulging in carnal pleasures is only so much of that. What Lae'zel looks forward too most, she must admit, is the gentleness of your touch whenever she comes back to Fae'run.

Soft warm whispers among the indulgent plush of bed sheets and candles. A room that smells like lavender and oak, prayer books and scripture littered on the desk. A cleric of Bahamut, and a soul strong as steel.

But this, her head resting in your lap as you stroke her hair so carefully, is what she's missed most of all. No doubt she's going soft.

"Chk. You are smitten by the text in front of you as if you have forgotten of my return,"

You look down at Lae-zel with a laugh, carefully placing said book down on the bedside table. The voice you speak with her is different from her own. Tender fleshed even in your speech, you let her curl herself into you.

A vulnerable position, open to whatever may come.

"I'm sorry, pretty girl," You hum. The words practically startle her "I don't mean to neglect you. It was an interesting passage."

"Pretty...It is true among the githyanki, I am among the finest of their ranks," She replies, turning herself towards you - getting comfortable "Yet still, something stirs."

"Are you embarrassed?" You reply, delighted as her frown deepens. Before she has a chance to argue with you, you lean down to press your lips against hers briefly "How sweet of you."

"I do not get embarrassed," She insists, scowling as you begin to giggle at her "It was merely unexpected."

"You're beautiful to me, Lae'zel." You hum, stroking her cheek gently as she continues to lay herself across. Your eyes are tender and lidded. That look of obsession she recalled from the months prior returned in full, and no longer hidden. Unlike your other mortal companions, or the pale elf - there is nothing hidden in your words. No agenda "More beautiful than anyone else. At least to me. Getting to look at you so closely is a gift."

She softens, her hand gripping yours resting on her chest

"When it is over," She says seriously, a solemness to her voice "I will return to you. This I swear. Without you, the liberation of my people would be no less then a dream,"

You return her smile in kind.

"My pretty, wonderful girl," You hum. She loves you. She thinks she understands it now "I know you'll return to me, nailo. You always keep your promises."

"Yes," She says, an unfamiliar emotion overwhelming her "I will not forsake all we have promised."

The affection in your voice shakes Lae'zel to her core. Initial abrasion fades only into warmth. It's not so bad to hear, even if it is tender fleshed.

▸ a/n ; the word reader uses for lae'zel is elvish for swift winds!! reader is meant to be sort of a book worm so you do not need to picture them as a elf and more of a linguist.

this is the most substantial thing i've written in the last few weeks so commentary is very appreciated. i'd be willing to do a minthara and halsin addition to this eventually if anyone is interested!!

anyways, baldurs gate companions i love u. reblogs so appreciated !

#bg3 x reader #baldurs gate 3 x reader #astarion x reader #wyll x reader #gale x reader #shadowheart x reader #karlach x reader #lae'zel x reader #writing tag #waah. i love them all

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starsinthesky5 · 3 months ago

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nothing's gonna hurt you baby II part 1 || joe burrow x reader

description: loving what you do doesn’t always mean it loves you back—it takes more than it gives sometimes

a/n: oh my GOD this is so long. it wasn’t supposed to be this long 😃😃😃😃. pls don’t hate me lol. this might have been the longest time i spent writing a fic too which is insane but i mean the word count speaks for itself HA. i really hope this isn’t total shit. but, so sorry I kept you all waiting for so long!! i really hope this was worth the wait :) i took my time with this one!

also, huge huge thank you to @sofferaddict for inspiring a chunk of this fic! you’re ideas and requests were PERFECT and i hope I did them justice :)

warnings: angst, language, allusions to sex, smut at the end (👨🚲 does this make sense???)

word count: 28.5 k (IM SO SORRY YALL-)

nothings gonna hurt you baby mini series master list (previous parts found here

——————————————————

Walking into Arrowhead Stadium always creates a complex mix of emotions for you; a rich blend of excitement, nervous energy, and uncertainty. It was a feeling that seemed to linger in the air for hours to come, creating an atmosphere charged with both anxiety and thrill. This mix was a given considering the matchup that was taking place, Joe Burrow vs Patrick Mahomes. It was two of the best in the league going against each other, a rivalry that had captivated the entire football community and had become one of the most talked-about spectacles in recent years. Whenever the Bengals went head-to-head with the Chiefs, the tension was electrifying yet frightening. But it wasn't about fear of losing—true fans knew the Bengals were the Chiefs' biggest rivals for the past 4 years and were their biggest threats—it was more about fearing how intense this game would be, but that also created excitement. The excitement came from knowing that this matchup promised to deliver an intense, high-energy, and nail-biting game that would leave everyone on the edge of their seats.

However, this time, you were feeling more excited than usual. Normally, you’d be on the verge of throwing up while walking through the concourse at Arrowhead, the bright red seats in the stands acting as a warning sign that forcefully caught your attention as if something urgent or dangerous was about to happen in the next few hours. This time, however, the bright red seats produced a feeling of comfort and nostalgia, like everything was back to normal while also reminding you of the memories you had here in years past (some sweeter than others).

You weren’t sure why, but playing the Chiefs made things feel like they were truly back to normal, despite the terrible loss against the Patriots the week before. Maybe it was because Joe always played his best against KC, so this game might just light that fire inside of him he so desperately needed last week. Or maybe it was because you knew how last week's loss put the entire team on notice so today's performance should be near perfect and push things back on track since they knew what narratives were being tossed around in the media right now.

Whatever it was, the bottom line was that you felt relaxed and confident—a complete 360 from how you felt last week before the game.

And you weren’t the only one who felt this way today. Joe did too.

For real this time.

Flashback to last night

“I miss you,” he softly said over the phone and pouted as you moved your phone back into your view and flipped over to your stomach on your bed.

“I just saw you a few hours ago,” you giggled. “I drove you to the airport,”.

“Yeah, I know,” he said while leaning back against his hotel bed's headrest. “But I miss touching you and feeling you next to me. That thing we did in the car was nice but that only made me more…you know…after we were done. I just miss you, all of you,”.

You felt your cheeks heat up at his words, remembering in vivid detail what transpired in the car before he left to go board the plane. What started as an innocent goodbye kiss quickly turned into a heated exchange that led to Joe pulling you to the backseat of the Porsche and having his way with you. Even though it had been a few hours, you could still practically feel his hand gripping your thigh right now, feel his hot breath against your ear, hearing his raspy voice chant your name breathlessly over and over. That’s how dazed you still were.

“Simmer down, Burrow. Gotta save that energy for tomorrow,” you smiled.

“I can’t help it when my girlfriend is the most beautiful woman on the planet,” he winked while threading his fingers through his frosted tips. “You're not just beautiful, you’re magnetic. There's something about you that draws me in and doesn’t let me go, not just your looks but the way you carry yourself–confident, sexy, and undeniably captivating. Your eyes are like liquor and your body’s like gold. One thing makes me drunk to the point where I lose all sense and the other makes me greedy for more,”.

“Joeee,” you shied away from the camera and smiled, then hid your face in the soft pillow that smelled exactly like him–crisp and clean, with a hint of his natural musk, and a little spicy–which only made you miss him even more and caused your smile to drop.

Yeah, you missed him too. How could you not? You had gotten so used to having him around all the time during the past 10 months and all of a sudden he’s not and is spending the majority of his time at the facility, that wasn’t something you were getting used to just yet. You were beyond excited that he could now do what he loved which he had been missing for far too long, but you missed him. You missed those peaceful evenings that you two spent together, wrapped up in each other’s embrace, and lounging on the couch while watching a silly movie. You missed those mornings when you’d get to wake up to his adorable smile and gentle kisses. You missed those late nights you two spent out in the backyard, staring up at the stars and talking about life. Now that football had fully begun, these things would become sporadic and you couldn’t help but miss him every single second he was away from you, even if you had just seen him just a few hours ago like today.

“What? It’s true,” he smirked, snapping you out of your trance. “I can’t stay away from you, you know that. I just wanna be around you all the time because of the way you make me feel,”.

He wanted to be around you, he really did. But this is what he’d have to deal with for the next 5 to 6 months and it killed him to not spend as much time with you as he wished. The past 10 months were a blessing in disguise for him; even though he was far away from what he loved to do, he was with the person he loved to love. That’s all that mattered.

But now he was close to what he loved to do, but a little further from the person he loved to love–and that sucked.

“Oh really? How do I make you feel?” you asked while peeking up from the pillow with a cheeky grin.

“Hmm,” he hummed and raised his eyebrow as he pretended to think about how you made him feel. He really didn’t need to think about it, the way you made him feel was so obvious to the point where even everyone around him could see it.

Just that afternoon, after Joe finally got out of the car and made his way to the plane, Ja’marr and Tee noticed that Joe looked happier, livelier, and more radiant than normal. At first, they couldn’t put their finger on what made him feel like that, especially before a game like this where he’d normally be dialed in and visibly numb. But once they saw the Porsche drive away and a girl wave goodbye in the window, they knew exactly what got him to this point.

They dubbed this the ‘Y/N glow’, a playful name for the look Joe had whenever he was around them and was giving off specific energy, a specific energy that they noticed he had around you. So whenever Joe showed up around the guys with this glow–without you by his side–they knew something must have happened before with you to make him like this. They applauded your talents, nothing could make Joe this visibly happy, not even football. The way he remained like this even when you weren’t around was remarkable, it goes to show the depth of your love for him and the profound impact you had on him.

That’s why Joe wanted to be around you at all times, the way you made him feel was irreplicable and so good that he was addicted to it, to you. You brought a smile to his face by doing the most minimal things, making him feel a genuine happiness that football could never bring him. You always had a way of making him feel better, even when he was so far gone that he didn’t even know how to pull himself out of that hole on his own. He needed you, he always needed you. Last week was the perfect example; he was almost too deep into that hole of anxiety and self-doubt and pushed you away again, but you once again came right in with no limitations and pulled him back out. He was so extremely blessed to have you in his corner, and he knew that.

“You make me feel like I’ve already won,” he grinned.

“Won what?” you bit your lip and asked, flipping around onto your back.

“The best trophy anyone can possibly win,”.

“Are you calling me a trophy girlfriend?” you furrowed your brows and asked.

“Oh, no. God no,” he laughed. “I mean, I feel like I’ve already won with you. The greatest thing anyone can have in this world is genuine, unconditional love. I have that…with you,” he said, his tone becoming more serious. “Winning you and your love is the greatest trophy, the greatest achievement I could ever have,”.

“Even greater than a Lombardi?” you asked, a tear forming in your eyes because of the sudden severity of his voice. The combination of his voice and the emotions you were already feeling from being apart from him created a strong mix. If he wasn't currently on Facetime with you, you would’ve found yourself seeking comfort in his pillow, probably crying your eyes out. “Fuck, I miss him,” you thought to yourself.

“Greater than a Lombardi, MVP, and Hall of Fame induction,” he nodded.

“Damn, you really love me,” you giggled as you subtly wiped the tear from your eye, trying to prevent him from seeing that you were a little emotional because you didn’t need him to get distracted.

“Really is an understatement. Loving you is like being on fire because it’s intense, all-consuming, and totally wild. It burns inside me, making my heart and soul come alive. You're the flame I never want to put out, the passion I never want to lose. You're the light in my darkest hours and the warmth in my coldest nights,”.

“You’re so sweet and poetic,” you blushed, giving him a love-struck smile as you gazed deeply into his eyes through the screen.

“And you’re so damn cute,” he smiled as he got up from his bed to grab his water bottle.

You let out a soft chuckle, your heart swelling because of how gentle, warming, and loving his words directed to you were, “How are you feeling about tomorrow?” you asked, getting up from your bed and walking over to the bathroom to fix your messy hair.

“Surprisingly good,” he said as he moved around the room, sounds of shuffling and clanking filling the bathroom as you grabbed your brush. “Practice went well, as you know, and I feel pretty good about where I’m at. Physically and Mentally,” he nodded as he came back into the camera view.

“That’s great, babe,” you smiled, feeling lighter after hearing him say that he feels good mentally. Last week was rough and you did not want to see a repeat of that ever again, especially after how long it took you to calm him down.

“I was too hard on myself last week, can’t let that happen again or I think I’ll be borderline psychotic by week 18,” he joked.

As you spoke, a warm, reassuring smile graced your face. "You're absolutely right. It's not healthy to load yourself with so much pressure. What's important is that you're giving it your all. I want you to know that I'm genuinely proud of you no matter what," you said gently, your hand reaching up to brush back a loose strand of hair.

“Thanks, Y/N,” he smiled. “Kansas City’s always a good game regardless. Tomorrow should be good. Not an easy game, but good. Unlike last week, I feel relaxed and confident. Since I’ve gotten hit a few times, that’s put my mind at ease about the wrist a little bit and I feel good. I’m hoping tomorrow’s game will bring that fire back into the guys, and even me,” he said before unscrewing the cap of his water and taking a big sip.

“I know it will,” you said while grabbing a hair clip. “At least we know Ja’marr will be fired up no matter what,” you giggled, referring to Ja’marrs long-lasting beef with the entirety of Kansas City.

He let out a soft laugh, “Ohhh yeah. He’s amped up for sure,”. He closed his water before returning to the camera with a cheeky grin, “I am too, to be honest, but not only because we’re playing the Chiefs. I’m excited to have you here for the game,”.

“Well, I’m excited to be there for the game,” you winked as you grabbed the phone and went back to the bedroom. “My flight’s in like an hour or so and Emma should be meeting me at the airport so we can fly to Kansas City together,”.

“I’m glad she could fly in for the game and keep you company,” he said, talking about your childhood best friend. “I didn’t want you to be all alone since my parents can’t make it and thank god and my big ass contract for letting me get you guys a suite.. I don’t ever want you sitting in the stands because those fans are intense as hell,”.

“Tell me about it,” you said, widening your eyes. “They’re so fucking loud on TV and in person, it’s like on a whole other level of rowdy fans. I thought Philly had the rowdiest NFL fans but KC might give them a run for their money,”.

“Mmm, I think Philly still wins in that department,” Joe shook his head and said. "But Kansas City definitely knows how to bring the energy, especially when they're up against the Bengals. It's like they're out there with an extra level of fire and even insanity when they're up against us,”.

“Well it’s a good thing you’re Joe Cool and can effortlessly cool them off by doing what you do out there,” you grinned, making dramatic hand movements to emphasize your words.

“Thanks, Y/N,” he chuckled, threading his fingers through his soft frosted tips. “I’m gonna let you go now so you can get to your flight on time. I know you get stressed out at the airport so you should probably leave now to give yourself some grace time,” he smiled. “I think some of the guys are going down to grab something to eat from the conference room so I’m gonna go with them,”.

"You’re probably right,” you laughed and nodded as you reached down and pulled up your sleek, black carry-on suitcase with silver accents. The suspense of the game weighed heavily on your mind as you spoke, "I don't know if I'll get a chance to talk to you tomorrow before the game, so I just wanted to say that you got this, Joe. I know you do. Remember to keep calm, take a deep breath, and dial in on the field. Don't think about anything else–forget about the roar of the crowd, the flashing cameras of the media, the distracting questions from the reporters. Block it all out and do what you do best out there. It's just you and the football,".

"I love you so much," Joe said as if he was lost in some trance, his eyes filled with warmth and sincerity, while giving you a tight-lipped smile. You could see the genuine affection in his eyes as he spoke those words. He valued your words, advice, and honesty more than anything else.

"I love you too," you said, unable to contain your joy as a wide grin spread across your face. Your cheeks flushed with a rosy blush, responding to the intense gaze he fixed on you. His eyes spoke volumes, showing an overwhelming amount of love and endearing infatuation that made your heart flutter.

End of flashback

Hearing him say that he felt good about today's game, with a confident smile on his face and a sense of determination in his voice, was all you needed to fully relax and feel a weight being lifted off your shoulders. You noticed the way his eyes sparkled with a mix of excitement and focus, and you couldn't help but feel a wave of positive energy. You were genuinely excited about the game this time, it was a completely different feeling than you had before last week's game when doubt and nerves had overshadowed your usual enthusiasm.

“Did I mention how amazing you look right now, Mrs. Burrow?” Emma teased as she snapped you out of your trance. You blinked your eyes a few times and realized you were now standing in your suite for the evening which was facing the Bengals sideline, not knowing when and how you even ended up in there. You looked down and noticed you were holding a glass, seemingly filled with a Vodka Cranberry Cocktail, not even knowing how this drink ended up in your hold. “Damn, he has me in a trance even when he’s not with me,” you thought to yourself as you looked back at Emma.

“Em…,” you said to her while giving her a look.

“What? I’m just stating the facts, Y/N. I know that ring is coming sooner rather than later,” she winked. “Joe is so down bad obsessed with you, I really don’t think he can go another year without officially officially marking his territory with a big, beautiful diamond ring,”.

"...Yeah," you giggled and nodded a few seconds later, feeling a little shy all of a sudden at the mention of how obsessed he was with you. The thought of marrying Joe filled your mind with a sense of euphoria and excitement, it was a beautiful dream you craved to turn into reality. The past 5 years with him were nothing short of a fairytale, and you two ruled the kingdom you had built together hand-in-hand with no intention of ever letting go. From the moment you first saw each other, you knew that this relationship would be different; and it was. It was different because you two had a connection that neither of you had ever had with anyone before. A kind of connection that only needed one small spark to fully catch on fire. And that fire burned no matter the circumstance: through the rain, the wind, and anything that threatened to blow it out.

A connection that felt like it was written in the stars–something cosmic, fated, inescapable. Once those stars aligned, everything clicked into place your lives intertwined in a way that felt as natural as breathing. It wasn’t forced and it certainly wasn’t rushed; it was like you were both simply waiting for the universe to do its thing, to bring you together at the right moment. As time went on, you realized just how deeply ingrained that bond was. It wasn’t just the shared laughs, the stolen kisses, or even the way you could read each other without saying a word. It was the way you stood by each other through the storms, the way you’d hold each other’s hands when the weight of the world was too much to carry alone.

Joe had reassured you of his intent to marry you multiple times which only intensified the significance of Emma's words and made butterflies flutter in your belly. Joe knew you were his forever from the second he saw you, it was only a matter of time before he made it clear to everyone. You twirled a strand of your hair around your finger, feeling a warm blush creeping up your cheeks as you tried to hide your smile. “But he’s focused on ball right now and he knows I don’t care when it happens,”.

“We’ll see,” Emma grinned, her tone of voice making you suspicious but you decided to let it go knowing this wasn’t the time to pick her brain about this subject. “But seriously, you look hot as hell right now. Best dressed WAG in the league by a long shot and man is Joe going to die when he sees this look. Taylor ain’t got nothing on you today,”.

"Hey," you snapped as your jaw fell, unable to hide your surprise. "No disrespect to Taylor. We love her, and I know she's on the enemy’s side tonight, but listen, her music has been with us through thick and thin, every breakup, situationship, and boyfriend. Without her, I don’t think I would’ve been able to get over James. Not to mention, I think she subconsciously wrote Call it what you want and King of my heart about me and Joe,".

“You’re right, you’re sooo right,” Emma said as she nodded. “But like, you look great,” she smiled as she gestured to your outfit.

You were wearing a skin-tight, cropped, custom-made, orange Burrow jersey that fit like a baby tee. It was a unique piece, specially made to your measurements and featuring Joe’s name and number. Along with the jersey, you wore your trademark ‘9’ necklace, adding a personal touch to the outfit. The denim mini-skirt complemented the jersey top perfectly, adding a casual yet stylish element to your look. The custom white knee-high boots were a standout feature, with a beautifully embroidered ‘9’ on the bottom by your ankle, fashionably showcasing your team spirit. To top it off, you had a vintage Bengals hat on, completing the outfit with a touch of retro charm. Truth be told, you looked absolutely stunning and it was clear who you were specifically supporting tonight.

“I guess I do,” you smiled, taking a sip of the cocktail that was in your hand.

You spent the rest of the time watching the pre-game warmups, observing how quickly fans flooded the stadium, and listening to how loud it was getting even though the game hadn’t even started yet. There were hardly any Bengals fans around your suite, honestly, all you saw was a sea of red around the stadium–not really surprising since not everyone wants to make a trip to Kansas City during week 2, especially after that loss last week.

“Holy Red Kingdom,” Emma said in surprise, raising her eyebrows as she looked down and saw a crowd of Chiefs fans right in front of your suite.

“Yeah,” you nodded as you looked down with her, your eyes scanning the crowd and only seeing ‘15’s and ‘87’s along with bright red shirts, hats, and jerseys. As you looked around the crowd and glanced down to the right, searching for any signs of orange, you heard loud, obnoxious shouting from below. At first, you thought it was just rowdy fans getting excited for the game about to start in a few minutes. But then the words that followed made you feel uneasy, and you quickly looked in that direction.

“Lookie, Lookie. Looks like we got a little Burrow fan up there,” one of the men said pointing up at you.

“Really?” another man cackled, looking right up at you, his face contorting to a look of surprise once he saw you. “Oh shit!”.

“No fucking way,” another man howled. “I didn’t think that joke of a quarterback still had any fans around. Especially after that embarrassing loss last week against the Patriots out of all teams. Like how do you play that bad against the fucking Patriots during Week 1? And wasn’t he all ‘I feel as good as I’ve ever felt in my entire career’ like two weeks ago? It sure as hell didn’t look like it last Sunday,” he laughed. “He was probably lying to save his ass,”.

“That injury clearly fucked him up for good, there’s no coming back from that. He might as well just call it quits now before he gets hurt again and ends up stuck in the hospital bed, I’ve never seen a more injury-prone quarterback since Andrew Luck, Burrow should stop chasing that trophy and sit back down and think about his health,” he laughed, making a mockery out of Joe’s health and stamina.

“I mean, it’s not like he had much going for him before the injury anyway. He came into the league as this hotshot, sparkly quarterback but has nothing to show for the hype that’s around him except for an embarrassing Super Bowl loss. Not to mention that he was overpaid by a lot I mean, with that contract you’d think he’d won two Lombardi’s back to back,” the other man laughed. “Bitch thinks he’s Pat Mahomes,” the man shook his head and hollered, earning loud laughs and words of agreement from the other men.

“Hey!” one of the other men shouted up at you. “You’re supporting the wrong guy, sweet cheeks,” he slurred as he pointed back to the field. “A pretty lady like you needs to show up for a real man like Mahomes or Kelce. Hell, we’re probably better than that pussy, Burrow,” he snarled, the hungry look in his eyes making you feel incredibly uneasy.

“Oooooo,” another man teased. “She does look like she’d look hot in KC red. Not to mention how bangin’ her body is and that ugly orange isn’t doing her tits any justice,”.

Emma's eyes widened in shock as she whispered, "Oh my god," and placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. The lewd comments from the drunk men made you both furious and highly uncomfortable, causing your shoulders to tense up with nervousness.

“Yeahhh,” the other man shouted, “Come sit down here with us, sweetheart. We can help you take that ugly ass Burrow shirt off and give you one of our shirts to wear…but that’s if you’re lucky,” he winks, earning high-fives from the other men for insinuating something like that.

He was so obviously drunk. They were all drunk.

Your heart raced in your chest, each beat echoing in your ears as a wave of anxiety washed over you, leaving you paralyzed with hesitation. Your mind raced, desperately searching for the right words or actions in this strange situation. This was uncharted territory for you, something you had never expected having to confront so you had no idea what to say or do.

“He’s a failure!”. “Complete waste of talent right there!”. “He can’t even throw like he used to!”. “Career went down the toilet as soon as he was drafted to Shittcinati!”. “He’s one hit away from being done for good!”.

The insults echoed in your mind, each word leaving a harsh mark and adding to the weight on your shoulders you thought you got rid of over the past week. As the crowd quieted for the kickoff, the echoes of their insults lingered. During the chaos, you could only think about Joe, feeling his absence strongly. The hurtful words triggered familiar feelings of anxiety and worry that you had worked hard to overcome before stepping into the stadium and you didn’t know what to do.

“Y/N?” Emma asked as she grabbed your trembling hand. “Are you alright?” she asked as she gave it a gentle squeeze.

“Y- yeah,” you lied as you felt your eyes well with tears. “I’m fine. It was just a bunch of drunk idiots, n- nothing to worry about,” you said to her while giving her a fake, rehearsed smile as you felt that pit in your stomach you got last week come back.

“Are you sure? That was fucking disgusting and so uncalled for, I’m sure we can talk to someone and-,”.

“No.” you interrupted her and said, your voice heavy and almost scared. “I really don’t want to make a scene here and I don’t even think those guys knew I’m Joe’s girlfriend. I really don’t want to be the subject of those annoying headlines over this and make things even more distracting for Joe,” you swallowed.

“But I-,”.

“Emma, please,” you pleaded as you looked into her eyes. “I’m fine,” you lied again, giving her false reassurance by pulling her in for a hug.

You were not fine. Joe. You needed Joe. The one person who could calm you down, get you to relax, the person who would be able to deal with this and shield you from the disgusting comments. “I need you right now,” you thought to yourself as you felt your throat tighten and tears threaten to spill out. You had never experienced anything like this before and although it was just a group of idiotic men that didn’t know you or Joe enough to be saying all of that, it still felt like a punch straight to the gut because the things they were saying were along the same lines of what Joe was saying to you last week, only they were saying it in a harsher more hateful manner. You weren’t even sure if you wanted to tell Joe about this, knowing that it would just become another distraction for him.

“This is going to be a long game,” you thought to yourself after pulling away from the hug sitting back down in your seat, feeling the urge to shrink away and hide. The pit in your stomach mixed with your growing anxiety left a bitter taste in your mouth, making you feel exactly how you did last week during the game.

It felt as if the protective bubble shielding you from the raging storm outside had burst, leaving you once again in the middle of the storm, feeling scared, anxious, and on the verge of being swept away by your thoughts.

“Fuck,” you thought to yourself. “I hope this feeling goes away,”.

A few hours later - End of the Game

It definitely did not go away.

The comments from the drunk fans set the tone for you for the rest of the game. It seemed like everything went downhill from there–for you and for the team. Some exciting, explosive moments had you on your feet but those were tinted by the other, more unpleasant things that happened.

You found yourself once again on the edge of your seat the entire game, but not because of the thrill or because you had adrenaline coursing through your veins. It was for the exact same reason as last week–you were scared, anxious, and upset. The game was neck and neck, a pure nail-biter as usual, and the Bengals put up one hell of a fight and honestly should have won the game, but they once again couldn’t do it.

They played good and way better than last week, but just not good enough.

And then it came to Joe. The one person that had been on your mind since the game began.

Flashback

"Oh my god!" you yelled as you shot up from your chair, your heart palpitating in your chest as you saw Joe go in for the QB sneak. You could see the determination in his eyes as he charged forward, only to get his shoulder rammed into by a defender. In that split second, you knew it was going to be a hard hit. Joe was brought straight to the ground, his helmet knocked off, and he was immediately crushed by several large opposing players. The impact echoed through the stadium as you breathed, praying he’d get up.

“Holy Shit,” Emma gasped next to you, her hand over her mouth. “I hope he’s okay, that looks like it fucking hurt,”.

“Joe, please be okay,” you whispered to yourself, your entire body feeling as if it was just thrown into a familiar brick wall. Immediately, your mind wandered over to the moments he had gotten injured in the past, and what just happened in that play was very similar to what’s happened before. The feeling you got in your body just now was very similar to how you felt in those moments. It was as if you were thrown into the abyss, had your heart torn from your chest, or stabbed in the stomach.

“Not again. I can’t do that again. He can’t do that again,” you thought to yourself as you felt your eyes pool with tears. “His fucking helmet flew off, Emma,” you said as you turned to her, your voice trembling and breaths getting shorter. “And…and his shoulder. The way he went down…,”.

“I know, I know,” she said as she rubbed your back, “But look, he’s getting up and he looks fine”.

You looked back down to the field, watching as Joe grabbed his helmet and stood up with an emotionless look on his face. As you watched him from a distance, you noticed that there was no hint of a limp in his stride, no flexing of his wrist, and no visible signs of shoulder pain. It seemed like he was moving with relaxation and confidence, showing no physical pain as he prepared to rejoin the game.

“See? It’s okay. He’s okay,” she soothed as she swayed you back and forth for comfort.

“Fuck,” you whispered as you slowly nodded, taking deep breaths to even out your heart rate, “He’s okay…He’s fine…,”.

“Yeah, he’s fine,” Emma reassured. “Don’t worry so much. Joe’s a tough guy, a play like this isn’t going to hurt him. Especially now since he’s so so much stronger and tougher, ”.

“You’re right,” you swallowed, trying to calm yourself down by continuing to take deep breaths and using your right hand to gently rub your left hand (the hand which had the veins that led straight to your heart)—a gesture that always calmed you down that Joe discovered. You rubbing your hand didn’t have the same effect as when Joe did it, but it was enough for now.

“I just- they can’t do that again. He could’ve gotten really hurt,” you mumbled.

Even though he looked calm and normal, you started to feel more and more uneasy. At the same time, you began to taste something bitter in your mouth, and it got stronger with every breath.

End of Flashback

The trauma of witnessing his previous injuries had left you with a bit of PTSD. As a result, every time he fell or moved differently, you experienced intense anxiety and fear, believing that something may be seriously wrong.

You had hoped that moment was the only time this evening you’d feel like this, but you couldn’t have been more wrong.

The QB sneak was just one example from this evening.

Flashback

“Yeah, and I thought about bringing Ryland but he had to go into New York this weekend with his brother for the Cage The Elephant concert,” Emma said as she took a sip of her cocktail. You two were talking about needing to plan a double date with the four of you (you, Joe, Emma, and her Boyfriend). She also mentioned that she wanted to bring him to the game this evening but he already had tickets for the concert with his brother and wished he could have joined you all.

“Sooo, I take it you two are getting serious,” you giggled, wiggling your eyebrows.

“What makes you say that?” she asked, taking another sip.

“We never do double dates, Em. Like ever,” you smiled. “Your exes were douches so you never brought them around Joe and me on purpose as a coupley thing but you are with Ryland so something has to be different,”.

“I could say the same thing about you, Mrs. Burrow, Mrs. Quarterback, Mrs. 9, Mrs. Cincinnati, Mrs. Shiesty,” she teased with a silly smile. “You never brought a boyfriend around me like that for the same reason and here we are, sitting in a suite your lover rented for you, watching him play football, while you’re completely decked out in his name and number. You and Joe are like a package deal. Inseparable, attached at the hip, and so obsessed with one another. You are locked the fuckkkk in and I could not be more happier for you,”.

“Emmmaaaaa,” you whined, hiding your face out of shyness.

“I can just hear those wedding bells, Y/N,” she giggled, pulling your hands down. “Here comes the bride,” she sing-songed.

“Rigggghtttt,” you nodded, laughing along with her and glancing back to the field to see if the break was over and to see where your boyfriend was.

You felt your heart drop and a lump forming in your throat as your eyes locked onto Joe, who was standing crouched down on the field. "Oh my god," you choked, the words barely escaping your lips as you shot up from your chair, feeling the adrenaline coursing through your veins. You walked with shaky steps straight to the edge of the suite window, your mind racing with a million thoughts at once.

You saw Joe standing on the field, his back to you, and crouched down; almost as if he was holding his wrist. Your mind quickly flashed back to November 16th, M&T Bank Stadium, the night he got hurt and was in this exact position. “Oh my god,” you said again, this time more panic evident in your voice.

“What’s wrong?” Emma asked as she looked at you.

“Joe…he looks like he’s holding his wrist?” you mumbled as you moved to the side to see if you could get a better look. “Emma, I think something’s wrong,” you said, feeling a wave of nausea come over you.

Emma quickly got up from her seat and walked over next to you, taking a look at what you were talking about. “Are you sure?” she asked with a concerned look.

“It- it looks like it…oh my god,” you said as you felt your throat tighten, then covered your face with your eyes. “No, no, no, this can’t be happening again. Not now,” you sniffled, trying to hold back tears.

Emma continued to look down at Joe with you, her eyes twinkling with amusement and her smile coming back once she got a better view of him. "Ohhhh, Y/N," she laughed next to you, her pleasant voice filling the air. She placed her arm around your shoulder, the warmth of her touch comforting and familiar, and gave you a gentle squeeze.

“What?” you asked her, peeking through your hands.

“Look down,” she said, pointing back down to Joe.

You moved your hands down and slowly turned to your head to look at him and what you saw was completely unexpected.

Joe was tying his shoes.

That’s why he was crouched down.

"He was... he was tying his shoes?" you whispered, feeling your heart start up again and a wave of relief come over you, which swept away the nausea. The sight of him crouched down, looping the laces and tying them into neat bows, reassured you that everything was okay. You have never been happier to see him tying his shoes, doing such a simple and ordinary task.

“Looks like it,” she laughed, then looked back at you and saw your face relax. “You okay?”.

“I think so,” you breathed out, watching him stand back up and walk around like nothing happened. “I just got scared for a second. That position seemed a little too familiar for my liking,” you nervously laughed.

“I get it. This stuff has to be stressful for you because of the wrist. It’s normal to get a bit of PTSD,” she said.

“I think I’ll be dead by Week 18 if I keep freaking out over these things,” you joked, placing your hand over your heart.

Every time he did something different, like flexing his wrist or crouching down weirdly, rubbing a certain part of his body, or sporting a look of discomfort—you were scared shitless. The thought of him getting injured again and having to go through all the pain and suffering was your biggest nightmare.

End of Flashback

Then, it was Ja’marr’s situation on the field, a situation that had quickly escalated as everyone was running on pure adrenaline and anger.

Even Joe, who usually keeps his calm in these scenarios.

Flashback

“Ja’marr looks pissed, holy shit,” you said as you looked down onto the field and saw him visibly angry at the Refs.

“Look at Joe trying to swoop in and save his bestie,” Emma laughed as she pointed towards Joe who was running to Ja’marr, then grabbing him to move him away from the Ref.

“That’s Joe, all right,” you smiled, “Always being Switzerland,”.

You watched as the situation on the field seemingly fizzled out after that, but then also watched as things quickly heated up again and Ja’marr was going right back in. You leaned forward in your seat, “What the fuck is even happening? Why is he so livid?” you said.

“I think it might have been related to the play before but I think the fact that the Ref isn’t talking to him is making it worse,” Emma nodded.

“Yeah,” you said quietly, your eyes widening as you watched Joe come back into the situation, this time his entire body language showing that he was not happy. You watched as he pulled Ja’marr away from the Ref and then tried to speak with the Ref himself, only to be interrupted by Ja’marr again.

“Oh my-,” you began to say before your breath hitched in your throat at the sight of Joe roughly pushing Ja’marr away from him.

"Holy fuck," Emma said in surprise, her eyes widening as she watched the intense scene unfold on the field. Both of you stood there, observing Joe extending an arm to try to keep Ja'marr away, but it was clear that his efforts weren’t working. Joe had to keep pushing Ja'marr back while also giving him a piece of his mind. "Y/N, I've never seen Joe that aggressive before on the field," she pointed out, her voice laced with concern as she continued to watch the tense exchange between the two players.

“Me either. He always keeps his cool, so something bad must have happened for him to get like this,” you agreed, the sight of Joe getting heated on the field both concerning and slightly enticing for you.

“I didn’t know Joe got rough like that,” Emma laughed, trying to lighten the vibes by teasing you, and oh was it working.

“Very funny, Em,” you said, sending her an intense look and trying to hide your smile even though you were laughing internally at what she was implying.

“What? I mean, if he’s like that out there I can’t even imagine how he’s like in-,” she started to say before you interrupted her.

“Emma!” you laughed, your entire body shaking from your reaction. “He’d kill me if he knew we were talking about this,”.

“So that means what I’m saying is true,” she giggled while raising her eyebrow.

You tried to hide your smile by gently pressing your lips together, but the corners of your mouth gave you away, turning up in a slight but unmistakable grin. Your cheeks, with a rosy, playful blush, gave off warmth, revealing everything without you needing to say a word.

“Daaaaamn, Joe,” she smiled. “Well at least now I know that you have a good sex life,” she winked.

“Good? It’s fucking phenomenal,” you nonchalantly mumbled which earned a gasp from Emma.

“Ahhh,” she shrieked, breaking out into a fit of laughter with you.

Although you were taking a lighthearted approach to the situation, whatever happened on the field didn’t sit well with you. You weren’t sure what was going on with Ja’marr and although you were worried about him, your attention was mostly on Joe. His visible agitation, a stark contrast to his usual composed presence on the field, was concerning. He always kept his cool whenever things went sideways out there because he didn’t like getting worked up. After all, that diverted his focus, but this time it seemed like he lost all of his ability to keep calm–which only meant one thing.

It was getting to him. This game was getting to him.

End of Flashback

As the game went on, he only got more and more frustrated. You could tell he wasn’t happy with his performance and the team’s performance by his body language and the grim yet frustrated look on his face.

His unhappiness was justified, this game was brutal and although the Bengals had an answer for every play the Chiefs made, there were too many careless mistakes that ended up costing them the game. One thing in particular that you knew Joe would repeatedly think about was his fumble in the 4th quarter which the Chiefs capitalized on and got a free 6 points from. You knew he’d obsess over that play because it was his mistake that cost them the ball and why they got those points.

If that fumble return didn’t happen, they had a good chance of winning the game, and you knew that thought would haunt Joe for the rest of the night.

You felt awful about the entire thing, how the team struggled against them, how Joe struggled against them, how their ignorant mistakes that should’ve been cleared up were costing them this important game.

And just when you thought it couldn’t get any worse, it did.

Flashback to the last few seconds of the game

“I just…I can’t believe we lost,” you said as you blankly stared out onto the field, watching as the clock painfully ticked down. “We were so close…he was so close, I..,” you started to get choked up and said, clutching your ‘9’ necklace in the process. “And he looks so..he looks so sad and disappointed,”.

Joe.

That is literally all you could think about right now. Not the team, not the fans, not the careless mistakes, not the fact that you lost the game by 1 point and a few bullshit referee calls.

Just Joe.

“I know, Y/N. I know,” Emma said as she placed a comforting arm around your shoulder and let you lay your head on her shoulder.

“And Joe’s probably already beating himself up for this and-,” you began to say before you were interrupted by loud, obnoxious yelling again.

“How does it feel, girls?” the fan laughed as the same group of men from earlier looked up at you and Emma.

“I swear to fucking god,” Emma whispered before speaking up, “Can you all just shut the fuck up for once in your goddamn lives? Leave her alone you miserable freaks,”.

“Oooo, someone’s getting defensive,” the other drunk laughed.

“They seem so sad, awww,” the other man mocked in a child-like voice. “That’s what happens when you support the wrong fucking guy, sweetheart,”.

“He was a shitty quarterback, still is a shitty quarterback, and will forever be a shitty quarterback. You got the short end of the stick, babe,” the other man laughed while raising his cup in the air. “It ain’t too late to switch teams…or switch shirts,” he winked.

“Wait a second,” one of the men said while looking down at his phone. “Holy fuck, look at this y’all,” he said to the other men as he turned his phone around.

“That girl up there is Burrow’s girlfriend. Just came up on my feed,” he said as he glanced up at you and showed you the picture of you and Joe from the sidelines at the last home game which made it onto some sports tabloid.

“No freaking way!” one of the men obnoxiously laughed. “This bitch is his fucking girlfriend? That’s even more embarrassing for her. Supports a shitty ass team with a lackluster quarterback and is dating him? Man, your standards must be low as fuck,”.

You held your tongue, clenching your fists to stop yourself from defending Joe and yourself. You didn't want to create a scene, but the want to speak up was strong. Your eyes burned with built-up tears and you knew that if you let them fall, you wouldn't be able to stop. “Please stop,” you thought to yourself, your entire body telling you that you needed to be in Joe’s arms. His warmth, his touch, and his words were what you needed right now.

"Damn, they’ve been together since his days down in Louisiana. That’s like what? 5 years? Damn, he didn't even bother to put a ring on her finger either. So not only is he a bad football player, but he's also proving to be an even worse boyfriend," one man chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Or maybe it’s because he doesn’t want to put a ring on her finger. He probably knows she’s a gold digger and is only with him for the money and fame. I mean, look at her? She looks like a slut and is practically asking for all eyes to be on her. Attention whore at it’s finest,” he cackled.

“Or maybe it’s because Burrow wants to keep his options open. He has to be getting models thrown at him left and right, ain’t no way he hasn’t swooped in on one while being with her. He’s definitely keeping his options open until a hot enough chick comes around and he can ditch this girl. And if one doesn’t, he’ll settle for her and have his homemaker around,” one man laughed.

“Please…stop,” you whispered, your bottom lip trembling from the anxiety that was spreading through your body.

“Y/N…let’s just go,” Emma whispered in your ear as she noticed the pain in your eyes.

“Look at her face, I mean she looks fucking embarrassing,” the man snarled, pointing up at you. “You got something to say or are you as incompetent as your little boyfriend?”.

“Burrow needs to put that trash to the side and date someone more on his level,” another man howled. “If football doesn’t work for him—which it clearly isn’t because he succckkkkssss,” he yelled. “Fucking a supermodel will give him a lengthy life in the public eye at least,”.

"Sorry babe, this is what happens when you come into the Reedddddd Kingdommm," the other man said with a sly smile, his voice laced with a hint of mischief as he sang that horrid, cheesy, ear-bleed-inducing tune, his words echoing through your mind along with everything else that was said.

“Don’t say sorry to her? She knew what she walked into when she showed up in that god-awful number, color, and name,” another man laughed, holding his plastic cup of beer in the air.

You thought he was just raising his cup, but you were so wrong. “Go back to Shittcinnati, slut!” he yelled, throwing his cup at the shield of your suite.

“Oh my fucking god,” Emma yelled as she quickly pulled you back from the window, both of you watching the cup hit the window and the beer splash everywhere against the shield.

"W- what," you stammered, your voice trembling with fear and confusion. You felt your throat tighten again as panic set in, and your stomach churned with unease. The room seemed to spin as you struggled to make sense of the overwhelming emotions washing over you.

“Hell no, we’re leaving now. This is fucking disgusting,” Emma said as she left your side, grabbed your things, and then led you out of the suite. You were so in shock that it felt like your mind had detached from your body and as if you were watching everything happen from a distance, unable to fully process what was going on.

End of flashback

You were entirely zoned out for at least 10 minutes as Emma led you down the narrow, dimly lit hallway to the locker room area to see Joe. It was like you were trapped in a dark, windowless room, the air filled with the smell of sweaty players and damp towels. You didn't know where to go, what to do, or what to say. You felt lost, alone, and out of it, as if the world around you had faded. "What the hell just happened?" you asked yourself, getting lost in the endless abyss that was your thoughts to the point where you barely heard Emma tell you she was going to the bathroom. Your brain wasn’t comprehending what had just happened, but your heart was and it hurt. Their comments hurt, the look in their eyes hurt, and you were hurt.

“Y/N?” a heavy yet gentle voice said which snapped you back to the present. You turned your head and saw Joe walking towards you, your face quickly turning to a livelier, happier expression to hide your true feelings, he didn’t need to see you like this; not now. His feelings were what you needed to focus on, and given the kind of loss they just had, you knew he had a lot of feelings; yours weren’t as important.

He pulled you into his chest, tucking your head in his neck and he wrapped his arms around you, “I missed you so much,” he smiled, his strained voice and body telling you how tense he was even if he tried to hide it with his smile.

"I missed you too," you mumbled against him, the rise and fall of his breathing providing a sense of comfort as you felt yourself melt away in the safe bubble that his presence always provided you. The warmth of his embrace surrounded you, and for a moment, everything else faded into the background.

He let go of your waist and moved his hand up to your cheek, pulling you in for a kiss. His warm lips against yours felt like a breath of fresh air, a breath of fresh air he had no idea you desperately needed. Joe immediately sensed the tension in your body as he kissed you. Normally, you melted into him, but this time your posture was rigid, your shoulders stiff, and your movements hesitant. His lips brushed against yours, but he could feel how dry and cracked they were, a telltale sign you’d been anxiously biting at them for hours. Joe knew this habit all too well; it was something you did when you were nervous, anxious, or lost in thought.

After lingering for a few seconds, he gently pulled back, his brows furrowed with concern. His eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made it hard to look away. He could see past the surface–the forced calm and the faint smile. There, in the depth of your eyes, he found what you were trying so hard to hide. The pain, the weight of anxiety, the shadows of doubt–he saw it all.

"Something's wrong," he said quietly but firmly, his voice low. He didn’t look away, holding the gaze as if he dared you to deny what he already knew. His hand gently cupped your face, his thumb rubbing your cheek as he waited for you to let him in.

“N- nothing’s wrong,” you said as you gave him a faint smile, your smile and voice not convincing enough.

“Y/N, I know you. I know you better than you know yourself, remember?” he smiled as he echoed what you said to him last week, “Are you okay?” he asked as he tucked your soft hair behind your ear.

You stayed quiet for a few seconds, not wanting to burden him with your emotions since you knew he already had enough to deal with on his own. But you knew you had to tell him because you couldn’t deal with this on your own. You needed him.

“No,” you replied with full honesty, tears pooling in your eyes as you thought about everything that happened again. You stared deeply into his tired blue eyes, noticing that there was something he was hiding from you too. “Are you okay?” you asked him, praying he didn’t brush you off like he did last week.

“No,” he quickly replied with the same honesty you gave him, his face dropping once he admitted that he wasn’t okay, and you knew exactly why. “But we can talk about that back at home,” he added, a wave of relief washing over you once you heard him say that because that implied he wasn’t going to shut you out again.

“O- okay,” you nodded as you felt him move his hand down to yours, then pull you over to a more secluded area away from the staff, players, and anyone that would overhear anything that was meant to be private. He saw the look in your eyes and that set off a siren in his head, something had happened and you were hiding it from him.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Joe asked again softly as he turned to face you, his voice laced with concern. His hand found yours, his fingers gently rubbing circles on the back of your left hand in an absentminded but soothing gesture that he knew would calm you down. “You look shaken up,” he continued, his brow furrowing as his eyes scanned your face for any clue you might give him. “Did something happen that you’re not telling me about?” His voice was gentle, but the worry in his tone was obvious. His thumb traced slow, rhythmic patterns across your knuckles, a silent reassurance that he was here and that he wouldn’t let go until you told him what was weighing on you.

You took a deep breath before looking into his eyes again, seeing that it was just Joe. You could talk to him; you could talk to him about anything because he made it very clear to you that he was always going to be there for you no matter what. He was your safety net, you could fall back and he would catch you every time.

“Something…something happened up at the suite,” you began to say, Joe’s eyes instantly softening because he knew what you were about to say. His biggest concern, his biggest fear when it came to you and football had come to life.

You took a deep breath, bracing yourself before beginning to remember everything. The words came out slowly at first, but once you started, it felt like a dam had burst. You told Joe everything–their horrible comments, their slurred insults, the throwing of the drink (which really pissed Joe off), and the crude remarks they’d made about you both. Every vile comment they tossed around about you, about your relationship, seemed to sting more as you repeated them.

Joe stood silently, his face a mixture of pain and anger, but his hand never left yours. As you spoke, you could feel the tremble in your voice, the knot tightening in your chest as you tried to fight back your tears. It was clear that repeating everything was breaking something inside you. You paused for a moment, your voice cracking as you glanced up at him and tried to read his reaction.

It broke Joe’s heart to see you like this, struggling to hold yourself together. His chest tightened as he watched you fight back tears, trying to stay strong while reliving something that clearly hurt you so deeply. Each word you spoke felt like another blow, not just to him, but to you, and it killed him that he hadn’t been there to protect you from it.

“Y/N…I’m so sorry,” he softly said as he pulled you into his arms, your tears threatening to come out from this and the way he rubbed gentle circles around your back. “I’m so-,” he started to say before he got choked up. “I’m so fucking sorry,” he finished.

“It’s okay, Joe,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper as you hid your face in his chest.

“No, it’s not,” he said, his voice laced with anger now that he was realizing what happened.

The fans. The fans of the sport he plays. They hurt the most important, valuable, and special thing in this world. They hurt you.

Joe could feel the anger boiling under his skin as he fought back the urge to go find these assholes and teach them a few things about what happened when they messed with the love of his life. He was also considering going out and finding the head of security or someone who handled these things and ripping one to them, but once he felt how you were shaking in his arms, he let those thoughts go. He knew you needed him more than you needed to see those assholes’ heads on a platter which is why he kept his anger inside and instead focused on comforting you.

“I’m gonna see if I can get out of this conference so we can just go home,” Joe said after he pressed a comforting kiss to your head.

“N- No,” you said as you moved your head from his chest. “I don’t want you to skip out on it because of me,”.

“But baby-,”.

“Joe, no. Please,” you pleaded as you cupped his cheeks and ran your thumbs along his soft skin. “I’m going to be fine, I promise. You still have a job to do and I don’t want to take you away from that,” you said as you gave him a small smile.

His heart broke as he saw your bloodshot eyes, knowing he was the reason you were in this situation. He felt so guilty, realizing that if it weren’t for his presence in your life those men wouldn’t have said such awful things to you.

What hurt him even more was knowing he couldn’t be there for you the way you truly needed. He could listen, but it wasn’t enough. He felt helpless, wanting to fix everything but knowing all he could do right now was hold your hand while you tried not to fall apart.

“Are you sure? I don’t fucking care about standing in front of a bunch of reporters who are going to ask me the same exact question 10 different times. I care about you and making sure you’re okay,” he said as he placed his hands on yours and gave them a gentle squeeze before kissing your palm.

You took a deep breath and then looked back into his eyes, seeing deep anger & sadness in them. Although you wanted him to skip and comfort you, you didn’t want to take him away from what he had to do. You never wanted to take him away from football. “Positive. Go do what you have to do, I’m going to be fine. Besides, I should get going for my flight,” you said, trying to give him a reassuring smile.

He took a deep breath as he felt himself being pulled in two different directions. He wanted to stay with you so badly but one, he knew you wouldn’t let him, and two, he wasn’t even sure if he was allowed to skip the conference. He gave himself a mental slap out of guilt for leaving you before giving you a small nod, “Okay,” he said. “I’ll see you in a few hours,” he added as he pulled you back into his embrace. “I love you,” he said as he dropped a kiss on your forehead.

You pressed a gentle kiss against his neck before tucking your head back into his chest, “I love you too,” you mumbled. The heat of his skin radiated against your cheek, and it only made you feel worse. You knew that the warmth wasn't just physical; it mirrored the anger and frustration building inside him, the emotions he was trying to hold back for you.

“Nothing’s gonna hurt you, baby,” he whispered in your ear before holding you tighter. “Not as long as I’m here,”.

You took another deep breath as you felt yourself melt away in his arms, wishing for him to never let go because this hug was the only time you felt at ease all day, but you always had the worst luck.

“I gotta go,” he said softly, pulling away from the hug. The look on your face stopped him for a few seconds–it was a mix of hurt and longing that pulled at his heart. Every instinct in him screamed to pull you back into his arms and never let go, but he forced himself to step away, even though it felt like the hardest thing he’d ever done.

“Okay,” you nodded, looking down at your feet as you took another deep breath and tried to hold back your tears for maybe the 50th time in the past hour.

He used his hand to lift your chin up before cupping your cheek again and pulling you in for another kiss, this one filled with passion & reassurance. As he pulled away, he whispered “Everything’s going to be alright,” against your pink lips. “I promise,”.

Just before stepping into the conference room, he looked back at you. His heart dropped as he saw you close your eyes and take a deep breath, your hands subtly moving to wipe away the tears you thought you had hidden from him.

“I hate this fucking city. She doesn’t deserve any of this,” Joe thought to himself as he turned around and walked into the room, the tension in his body palpable as he struggled to keep his cool.

No one could disrespect you like that and get away with it. Joe wasn’t going to let it happen, even though he knew you didn’t want him to say anything because you wanted to avoid a scene. His protective instinct was stronger than his desire to keep the peace, it was always that way with you.

A half-hour later

The next half-hour passed by quickly and before you knew it, you were back on the plane and heading home. Joe had chartered you and Emma a private plane for your trip home and at first, you were slightly annoyed by his grandness–telling him that you didn’t need all this and that you were just a girl and could go on a normal flight like everyone else–but now had gained a new-found appreciation because you really didn’t want to be around other people right now. This private flight gave you the quietness you so badly needed, or so you thought.

You changed into something more comfortable, slipping into one of his sweatshirts that still carried his comforting scent, a comfort that helped calm you for the moment. Emma was curled up in the back, taking a power nap while you scrolled through your phone, watching clips from the game. The familiar sounds and sights provided a distraction, even if just for a little while.

You found yourself laughing at a clip of Joe making a funny face on the sidelines, “His football faces are hysterical,” you mumbled to yourself before you saw a notification pop up on your screen.

It was a text from your sister with a link to a tweet.

your sister: link 🔗

your sister: what’s going on??

You raised your eyebrow out of confusion before tapping on the link, your eyes widening as you saw the caption of the video that was tweeted.

“Click here to see a rare statement made by Joe Burrow regarding his personal life and his girlfriend, Y/N,”.

“Oh, fuck,” you whispered, feeling your stomach churn. A wave of nausea washed over you, tightening your insides and catching you off guard.

When you clicked on the video, you felt the wave of sadness come back as you saw Joe standing at the podium. He looked tired and worn out, with his face showing how exhausted and defeated he felt. As you watched him, you felt a sense of worry and concern, realizing the seriousness of the situation.

"How frustrating is this loss, Joe?" a reporter asked him.

You watched him take a deep breath before answering the question, hesitance clear in his body language. “As frustrating as I’ve had,” his words were weighed down by the burden he carried in his heart. “This one stings a bit, we just couldn’t get it done. Felt good about the game plan, I was seeing it well…uhh..you know, just didn’t do enough to get it done,”.

You had a single tear running down your cheek, showing that the strong emotions you were trying to hold back were breaking through the wall you built. His words painted a picture of pain, a picture of pain you had never seen. He wasn’t acting like his usual self and you had never seen him so low after a loss, and that’s including the Super Bowl. Was this because of you? Or was this because of the game?

Whatever it was, you could tell he was hurting. He was hurting badly.

“Where do you go from here? 0-2 isn’t unfamiliar territory for you, but where does Joe Burrow go from here? How are you feeling? What is the level of urgency?” another reporter asked him, Joe’s eyes dropping down to the side as he avoided looking into the reporter’s eyes.

“I need to give him a hug,” you thought to yourself as you let out a soft sob. You just wanted to take all of his pain away, he didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve to feel like he let anyone down like this loss was all on him. He didn’t deserve to hurt like this.

“Uhh,” he nervously mumbled. “I still feel good, you know…There’s a lot of work to be done, a lot of things to fix,” he sighed as he looked down for a few seconds. “The urgency is very high. We just need to go out and get a win. We have to do better, I…I have to do better,” he added, his shaky voice breaking your heart. His voice cracked on the last part, a sound you hadn’t heard from him before. It was subtle, but enough to break your heart. The vulnerability was right there just beneath the surface like he was walking on the fine line between keeping it together and falling apart. His eyes shimmered in the bright lights of the room–though no tears fell–and for a second, you thought he might break, but he held it in.

What you saw was the kind of pain that came from someone who felt like they were carrying the world on their shoulders and didn’t know how much longer they could keep standing.

The clip then cut to the end of his press conference. Usually, he’d glance around the room before saying, “Thanks guys” and walking off the podium, but this time he didn’t exactly do that. He did his normal look around the room, but instead of walking off, he spoke up again.

“Before I go, I just wanted to say something and I know this is very uncharacteristic of me but this is the only way I could think of getting this across,” he said as he looked around the room for nods of approval, which he got.

He couldn’t keep it in, he had to say something.

“I know I usually don’t talk about my private life or my girlfriend, Y/N,” he said as his eyes drooped to the floor but quickly moved back up. “And I do that to protect her and a part of my life that I keep very close to my heart, but silence can only protect things for so long. She’s been to every single one of my games for the past 5 years and not once has she ever felt scared, harassed, and disrespected–but she did tonight and I couldn’t do anything to help her.

So that’s why I need to say this,” he continued, his voice becoming stronger and more determined. “If you have something to say about me, my career, my life–literally anything,” he paused, gripping the podium even tighter as if it were the only thing keeping his emotions in check. “Say it to my face.”

There was fierceness in his tone now, a protective edge that cut through the room. “Y/N didn’t sign up for this life. I did,” he said, his voice stable and full of confidence. His eyes scanned the crowd, daring anyone to say anything to him.

“The awful things that were said to her this evening are things I would have never thought would be said to her, but here we are,” he sighed. “And I know you all are probably confused as to what I’m talking about, but there are people out there who know exactly what I’m talking about and that’s what matters. In all the years that she’s been with me, not once has she ever been in this position before, and the fact that this happened here? Tonight?” he added while shaking his head, his piercing eyes now filled with fire.

“She doesn’t deserve to be treated like this just because she supports me. So from now on, if anyone has something to say, leave her out of it. The fans tonight…they should be ashamed of themselves for harassing a girl that they don’t even know. That’s not going to earn you any brownie points with anyone. It’s just downright disgusting, pathetic, and embarrassing. This woman has been by my side through thick and thin, through every single up and down since my first year at LSU. She knows me better than anyone does, and she’s the single most important thing to me—even more important than football. She’s my support system, my best friend, home in human form, my person,” his eyes darken, anger and protectiveness mixing together.

“Nobody has the right to make her feel unwelcomed because she’s my girlfriend. Nobody has the right to pass any lewd comments about her. Nobody has the right to say anything about our private relationship. If I ever hear anyone say a single thing about her, I’m not going to just brush it off,” he said, his words as sharp as the look in his eyes. “I protect the things I love which means I will protect her no matter what. Call me out, insult me, trash my name all you want. But I draw the line at Y/N. If you have anything to say, say it to my fucking face. Leave her alone,” he said before pausing for a few seconds. He held the silence that followed for a few more seconds, the severity of what he was saying took everyone by surprise because they had never seen Joe like this. The looks on all their faces told him that they heard him loud and clear even though none of this was directed at them. Then, with a last look at the room, he pushes away from the podium, his broad shoulders tense and stiff from anger, and walks off without another word.

“Oh my god,” you sniffled, wiping away the tears that were rapidly sliding down your cheeks. “Oh my god,”.

You couldn’t believe he actually said something, and he said it so publicly.

Joe was never one to speak so candidly about his personal life, especially when it came to you. He was always careful, intentionally private, keeping the most intimate parts of his world hidden away from the scrutiny of the outside. It wasn’t that he didn’t want people to know how much he cared about you–if anything, it was the opposite. He knew all too well the potential effects of letting everything out in the open; the extreme opinions, the relentless criticism, the intrusion into your lives that could come crashing down if he let his guard down for even a moment.

He always tried to shield you from that. His love wasn’t about grand displays or public statements; it was in the quiet moments, the gentle looks, and the way he held your hand just a little tighter when the world around him was too loud. He kept you out of the spotlight as much as he could, not because he was ashamed, but because he wanted to protect you from the ugly side of his world–the part that didn’t care about your feelings or boundaries.

But even Joe knew that silence could only go so far. Eventually, its weight would press down, creating a wall between you and the life he lived every day. And tonight, when you felt disrespected and harassed just for being there for him, it broke the carefully kept distance he’d worked so hard to build.

So now that he had actually said something, you couldn’t help but feel a little worried. You were a lowkey kind of girlfriend; the majority of fans knew you were dating Joe but you were never the kind of girlfriend to flaunt that you had the most desired NFL player wrapped around your finger. What he just did…what he just said put the spotlight on you and you were terrified that this would do more harm than good. Especially for him.

But you knew that this was Joe.

Your Joe.

You knew how much he tried to keep this part of his life away from the public eye and the fact that he went out and said something was enough to tell you that he wouldn’t let anything hurt you. He wouldn’t ever do anything to hurt you, he meant what he said.

Nothing was going to hurt you as long as he was with you.

An hour or so later

“I’ll see you soon, okay?” Emma said to you as she pulled you in for a hug, swaying you back and forth on the doorstep of your home.

“Are you sure you can’t stay until tomorrow?” you asked as you pulled away from the hug.

“I wish I could but you know I have that meeting in the morning,” she pouted as she picked up her bag.

“Right,” you nodded. “Get some sleep on the flight, okay? It’ll be pretty late by the time you get back home and you need to be fresh tomorrow for your big meeting,” you added.

“You need to get some sleep too, Y/N,” she said while patting your back. “I know Joe is only an hour or so behind you, but you should get some sleep. Today was rough,”.

You wished you could get some sleep, but your mind was moving at the speed of light right now so sleep was completely out of the question. You were wide awake. “I’ll try,” you lied with a faint smile. You knew Joe would be wide awake too, his brain was probably moving faster than the speed of light and you could just picture him staring out of the plane window, jaw clenched and eyes focused as he thought about everything over and over. He’d go through the motions of what went wrong, then run through it again and try to find ways he could’ve fixed it–even though the game was longgggg over.

But that was just Joe. This was a part of his process and there wasn’t much you could do other than be there for him whenever he got out of his head and needed someone to talk to.

“Don’t worry too much,” she added with a sincere smile. “Everything will be fine as long as you have Joe with you,” she said, her words matching exactly what Joe said to you earlier and what he showed during his press conference.

“Yeah,” you breathed out, “I know,”.

She was right though, it would be fine as long as he was by your side. You needed to keep reminding yourself that he wouldn’t let anything or anyone hurt you.

—

After finishing up your conversation with Emma, you walked her to her waiting Uber and exchanged one last goodbye before watching the car pull away. As you came back into the house, you sank down onto a barstool at the kitchen island, your mind swirling with a mix of emotions and thoughts that needed sorting.

You thought that Joe would most likely be in a mood once he got home since he had all the time on the plane to drive himself insane by reliving the game over and over. You hoped his mood would be slightly better than how it was last week after the game, not knowing if you had it in you to deal with everything if he came home with the same mindset and attitude as last week.

Add the fan situation to the mix and then you had the perfect recipe for a ‘stand-off angry Joe’ who would blame himself for absolutely everything and push you away while he self-destructed. You knew he would blame himself for the drunk idiots and their disgusting words towards you even though it was far from his fault, and you knew that it wouldn’t be easy to get him to move past it. You just couldn’t have him shut you out again, you needed him to talk to you more than anything this time.

You shook your head, “Stop, Y/N. He said he’d talk to me once he got home and he meant that. He knows that he can’t put himself in that situation again and shut himself down. I don’t need to worry,” reminding yourself of what he said to you earlier and the week before. “If he happens to be in a mood then I just need to do something to stop him from being in a mood. He’ll open up to me on his own terms, I can’t push him too hard,” you nodded as you looked up.

You wanted to talk to him about everything more than anything, wanted to pick at his brain and allow him to open up to you, but you knew better than to push him too hard. He hated being cornered, but you also couldn’t let him hide under his shell. Easing him into it and allowing him to naturally come to you is what you needed him to do. If he came back in a mood, you knew you’d need something to act as a buffer, something to soak up the weight of his emotions before they pulled him back to the edge like last time. You needed to do something to ease his tension while distracting him for a little bit before he started to unpack the weight of his emotions onto you.

Your eyes moved to the TV, putting on one of his favorite movies would work, right?

“No, he’d just zone out and think about the game,” you whispered to yourself as you slipped off the barstool.

Your eyes then moved to the couch, cuddling would work, right?

“Mm, Mm,” you shook your head. “Quiet time and cuddling would let the voices in his head get louder,”.

Your eyes moved toward the kitchen, and suddenly an idea sparked as your eyes landed on the small orange pumpkin decoration you’d placed by the knives–an early start on your fall decorating. A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as the solution hit you. "Pumpkin pie," you whispered to yourself, a grin rising on your face. "Obviously."

Pumpkin Pie was more than just a dessert for Joe; it was more of a feeling of comfort or a reminder that even when everything felt like it was crumbling, there would still be little joys to be found in the little things. You could never get sick of the childlike smile on his adorable face when he gets the first whiff of cinnamon and nutmeg. You wanted to see him that happy all the time, and you were determined to make that happen.

“Hopefully that’ll work if he comes back acting like The Hulk,” you giggled as you walked into the pantry and started gathering all the ingredients you’d need to make his favorite dessert. This was a great distraction (for the time being) for him because it would let him drift away from football for a little bit. This was a great distraction for him and an even better distraction for you, even if you didn’t want to admit it. Deep down, you were still shaken up over everything that happened at the game, and sitting in this big, empty house with nothing but your thoughts for company? You knew exactly where that would lead. You had just as much of a tendency to spiral as Joe did, maybe even more than him sometimes.

You might not have realized that by focusing so much on his emotions, you were ignoring your own. You were used to being the calm and steady support for him, but it took a toll on you. Comforting him and worrying about his stress made you bury your own feelings, convincing yourself that they didn't matter as much as his.

By concentrating on him, you could avoid dealing with your own feelings, which is exactly what you’re doing right now. But eventually, everything you were holding back would catch up with you. For now, it was easier to pretend that baking this pie is enough, that it's the solution to both your problems.

—

The hour passed by pretty quickly as you worked on the Pie for Joe. You found yourself forgetting about the game as you bounced around the kitchen while you made the sweet dessert for him. Baking was often a big stress reliever for you and you always found yourself letting loose while accidentally covering yourself in loads of flour and sugar. You loved to bake and Joe loved to eat what you baked, it was the perfect dynamic.

You had placed the Pie in the oven not too long ago and were now cleaning up, the TV in the background however had quickly snapped you out of your playful daze.

The channel on the TV was showing an analysis of the game and your ears couldn’t help but perk up every time they mentioned Joe. They were showing constant replays of all the moments Joe was frustrated during the game, on the field, and on the sidelines. They were talking about how the Bengals should have won this game and how Joe outperformed Patrick. They were saying that this loss would for sure put a dent into the team’s confidence going forward, even going as far as talking about how their playoff odds were rapidly decreasing as well.

“A bunch of fucking idiots,” you mumbled under your breath as you stared up at the TV, your eyes welling with tears yet again without you even realizing it. How could they count them out so early? How could they count out Joe so early?

Then the TV showed a clip from his post-game press conference which really did it for you because you had to hear him mention the events from earlier that you were trying so hard to ignore.

“It was just not a good day overall for Joe. He didn’t play as well as he usually does, even made some terrible mistakes that were very unlike him to do…and his post-game conference showed a side of him none of us have ever seen. He seems distracted, unlike how he usually is out on the field. Was last year the last time we saw that ‘Elite QB’ that he claims he is? Is there a bigger issue than the team’s unpreparedness that is affecting his game? Is his personal life burdening him and serving as a distraction?” the analyst said.

You knew how intense his life was, and how demanding football could be. You had always tried to make things easier for him. But what if in trying to be supportive, you were unknowingly adding to the pressure?

Was his personal life burdening him? Were you burdening him?

“Why does this always have to happen to him?” you sobbed, the words coming out before you could stop them. It was like the emotional dam you had built had just burst and all the feelings you’d held back for hours–maybe even longer–were rushing out. Your floury hands gripped the counter as your tears fell down and mixed with the sprinkled flour all around the marble top.

You couldn’t keep it in anymore. The pressure, the criticism Joe was under, it was all so suffocating. Every time he had a bad game or a few bad moments, it was like the world turned against him. People couldn’t wait for him to slip up just so they could tear him down.

“He works s- so hard, they just don’t get it,” you cried as you wiped your eyes with the back of your hand. “He’s trying so hard, they don’t see how much pressure he puts on himself,”.

But this wasn’t just about him, it was about you too. The pressure you put on yourself for always being the strong one, being strong for him, was suffocating. You were tired of acting like it didn’t hurt; the comments and the criticism not only about him but about you too.

“Is it my fault? Am I pushing him too much? When I tell him how great he is and remind him of all the amazing shit he’s done, is that making him feel too pressured to be that guy again?” you sniffled.

You were starting to blame yourself for everything, which is the last thing you should have been doing. This was far from your fault, but your brain was so clouded by negativity and the lingering words of those drunk men for you to be able to think clearly. All you could see was everything you said to him that could have made him lose his focus and cause all this. You couldn’t see that this was all because of everything else around him—the media, the outside noise.

“And I shouldn’t have told him about what ha- happened at the suite,” you said as your sobs got louder. “He’s not focused because of me. It’s my fault,” you cried, your breaths getting shorter and shorter as your heart started racing.

Before you think about anything else, you hear the buzzing sound of the garage opening fill your ears.

Joe was home.

“Fuck,” you quickly wiped your tears and switched the TV to a different channel before he came in. He didn’t need to see you like this, especially since you thought that him seeing you like this was the root cause of all of this. You were supposed to be strong, so you needed to act like it. His support system crumbling wasn’t what he needed right now because who would be there for him when he needed someone?

You heard the door open behind you and quickly fixed your face before you turned around to see him, and what you saw broke your heart again. You immediately noticed the bags under his eyes, the defeated look on his face, and his miserable body language.

You patted your floury hands on your sweatpants before walking over to him, grabbing his wrist, and pulling him in for a tight hug. You felt him relax against you before you placed a hand around the nape of his neck and pushed his head into the crook of your neck. “Hey,” he whispered against you as you started threading your fingers through his hair.

“Hi,” you whispered as you placed a kiss on his warm cheek, feeling him let out a breath that sounded like he’d been holding it in for a while.

“I missed you,” he said while slightly shifting his head to look at you, an adorable boyish pout on his face.

“I know,” you smiled at him while leaning down to press a kiss to his lips. “I missed you too,”.

He leaned down to your neck, “Was your flight okay?” he asked you as he peppered it with slow, soft kisses, his gentle touches slowly relieving the tension you had inside of you.

“Yeah,” you lied, not mentioning how most of it was spent thinking about everything he said in his post-game press conference. “Was your flight okay?” you asked him.

“It was alright,” he sighed. “I didn’t get much sleep so I just killed time by staring out the window or reading that book you got me,” he said.

“Wait, are you tired?” you asked as you let go of him; thinking that he’d be wide awake was a mistake. Why would he be wide awake? He had a rough game and even rougher post-game, he was probably so tired.

“No, No,” he shook his head, his hands settling on either side of your hips and preventing you from moving too far away from him. “I’m wide awake but I tried to sleep on the plane just to pass the time. Obviously, that didn’t work though,” he softly laughed, his nose wiggling a few seconds later. “What smells good?” he asked, that childlike smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he caught a whiff of the cinnamon and nutmeg.

You let out a small giggle before leaning up to press another kiss to his lips, “Pumpkin Pie,” you said a few seconds later, now feeling his hands wrap around your torso.

“For me?” he asked while raising an eyebrow, a playful smirk rising on his lips. His hand slipped under your shirt, the warmth of his hand radiating through your skin and sending waves of comfort throughout your body. It was as if his touch had the power to quiet every worry in your mind and body, grounding you in a way he didn’t even realize.

You let out a dramatic sigh, “Nah, it’s for my other 6’3 quarterback boyfriend. He should be coming around in a few minutes,” you teased.

“Ha. Ha,” he laughed monotonously before continuing, “The only 6’3 quarterback boyfriend you need is already here. Thanks, baby,” he smiled a few seconds later as he pulled you even closer and pulled you up for a kiss. This one was a bit spicier than the others as his lips were instantly tugging on your bottom lip while he casually slipped his tongue into your mouth, earning a soft but sultry moan from you. His laugh vibrated through his chest and into the kiss, a shift in his energy fully visible. It was playful but with an edge.

“Mmm,” you hummed as you placed your hands on his chest and gently pushed him back. “As much as I would love to keep that going, you’ve got a sweet treat to eat,” you winked.

“Oh,” he said while raising his eyebrows. “Okay, let’s go upstairs then,” he smirked while grabbing your hand and jokingly pulling you towards the stairs.

“Joeee,” you said while pulling him back. “Not that kind of sweet treat,” you added which you received a pouty look from him in return. “...Okaaaaay, maybe later?”.

Normally he’d respond with another flirty comment but when he stared into your eyes a little more carefully and noticed how red and puffy they were, all playfulness left his body as all he could think about was the fact that you had likely been crying, likely because of him and he knew that.

“Y/N…” he began to say before you interrupted him.

“Come sit down, I’ll pull the Pie out and cut you a slice,” you smiled while grabbing his hand and leading him back over to the kitchen island, not giving him a second to say anything. Even when you were clearly upset, you still were only thinking about him.

“I don’t deserve her,” he thought to himself as he watched you plaster a smile on your face and focus on him and only him. “I don’t deserve her at all. I feel so guilty for everything that happened to her, especially because it’s all my fault, and she’s still only thinking about me? ”.

You oftentimes did this, focusing on Joe and only him while ignoring everything else around you. He was the center of your universe and everything else around you faded into the background. This habit of yours formed early on in your relationship back at LSU. Then, it was all about supporting him through his tiring practices, stressful exams, and important games. You devoted yourself to making sure he felt loved, understood, and cared for while he tried to make his mark on the field.

And now, even after all these years, your habit still hasn’t changed.

Joe saw it every time, the way you focused on him, how you gave him every ounce of your attention all the time. He didn’t say much about it, but you knew he noticed. The look in his eyes would always soften, as if he both loved and hated the fact that you put him first.

It had been like that through the whirlwind of college football, and now in the glimmer of the NFL spotlight. You were always by his side, pouring all of your energy into him and sometimes leaving none for yourself. He knew you like the back of his hand so he could tell when you were giving more than you could handle. He appreciated you so much, you were his anchor but he worried about you–worried that you carried too much of his weight without letting yourself be vulnerable too.

Even tonight, when you should’ve been taking care of yourself, you were focused on him–it was always him. It had been this way for so long, and while he knew you’d never stop looking out for him, he hoped that you’d let him do the same for you on the same level you did for him. As much as he needed you, he also knew that you needed him just as much, even if you didn’t always admit it.

“What did I do to deserve you?” he said again, this time out loud as he slipped onto a barstool and rested his chin on his hand.

“Great question. You must have done some severe manifestation to bag me,” you teased as you spun around to take out a plate from the cabinet.

Joe let out a soft chuckle, “Severe manifestation, stalking your Insta for about 2 weeks to see if you had a guy already before asking you out, memorizing your class schedule and your favorite lunch spots so I could ‘accidentally’ run into you…it’s all the same,” but stopped once he saw you take only one plate out from the cabinet. “You’re not eating?” he asked with furrowed eyebrows.

“Not hungry,” you said while flashing him the fakest smile possible as you placed the plate down in front of him before turning around to pull the Pie out of the oven. Who were you kidding? You were so hungry to the point where you could legit eat one of those fake display fruits people put out. The only thing you’d had to eat today was a bottle of orange juice and a few bites of a banana muffin this morning—other than the Vodka Cran you had during the game. You just didn’t think you could stomach anything during or after the game because your stomach was in literal knots.

You hoped that he didn’t realize you were lying to him but one thing about Joe was that he could always tell when you were lying to him. He paid extra attention to the little things about you–the sudden lightness in your voice, avoiding eye contact with him, and the oh-so-obvious fake smile. He hated when he noticed these signs because that meant you weren’t being truthful with him for whatever reason.

Without saying a word, he got up from his chair and walked around the island to the kitchen cabinets. You saw him moving out of the corner of your eye just as you were closing the oven and carefully placing the warm pumpkin pie on the counter.

“What?” he asked you, noticing that you were staring at him as he pulled out another plate and set it on the island next to his.

“Why’d you take out another one?” you asked him before you moved the Pie plate over to the island and set it near the dinner plates. Joe let out a soft laugh, the adorable crinkles in the corner of his eyes popping out as placed a gentle hand on both sides of your shoulders from behind and walked you back over to the island barstools.

“For you, silly,” he chuckled in your ear, then pressed a quick kiss to your cheek before walking back to the kitchen.

“But I’m not hungry,” you said as your eyes followed him around the kitchen, watching him take out a knife and a can of whipped cream from the fridge.

“Look at who you’re talking to,” he smiled as he began cutting a slice of Pie. I know you like the back of my hand, Y/N. I know you haven’t eaten anything all day because I know you never eat before or during a game because you want to wait so you can eat with me. Also, you feel like if you eat something you’re going to throw it up during halftime because of your nerves,”.

Your eyes softened as you watched him set a slice on your plate, and then use the whipped cream to add a small heart on top.

He knew you and your habits all too well. You shouldn’t be surprised though, this was Joe. He noted and noticed everything about you and had been doing it since the day you first met. It first started off as him noting how you liked your morning coffees before classes (so he could show up at your dorm with it and have an excuse to walk you to class) and noticing how you’d start fidgeting with the birthstone ring on your right hand whenever you felt anxious in crowded public settings (parties, at his practices, his games). Whenever he saw you doing that, he made sure to stop whatever he was doing and tend to your needs–doing whatever you needed him to do without questioning it.

Now, it had led to him noting how you liked your morning protein smoothies (so he could make them for you, obviously) before you went in for your morning workout in the gym he had designed for the both of you in your shared home. And then it was noticing all your little habits, such as fidgeting with the birthstone necklace he gave you—which had his birthstone on it—whenever you felt anxious now.

Reminding yourself of how beautifully things had changed and flourished in your relationship, how Joe so easily flipped your entire world upside down by just looking into your eyes one hot afternoon during a football practice you and your friends stumbled into, always brought a smile to your face. Even in moments when you were far from happy.

That was just the Joe effect.

You watched as he set a slice on his plate, then added whipped cream to his before placing everything down and joining you on the other side of the island. He sat down on his stool and turned to look at you and saw that you were too far from him, which he wasn’t having for even a second.

“Mm Mm, too far,” he shook his head as he grabbed the beam of your stool and pulled you over, a small shriek leaving your lips at how he easily pulled you over as if he was pulling a feather over.

Your knees were pretty much bumping into each other, that’s just how close he pulled you over. It was such a small gesture, but the significance was far more deeper. He wanted you close in every single way possible.

“My big strong man,” you giggled as you placed a hand on his knee, giving it a soft squeeze and then starting to rub it through his sweatpants’ fabric. He leaned over and started peppering featherlight kisses around your jawline and down to your neck, his lips so soft and plush-like. “But I really don’t think I can stomach the Pie regardless of how good it probably is,” you laughed.

Joe leaned back to stare into your eyes, the redness in them mocking him and his efforts to make you feel better. It was a reminder of how well you hid your feelings from him, something you both had in common. You both would hide your feelings from each other in order to protect each other. He wanted nothing more than to sweep you up in his arms and take away the hurt that hid behind those beautiful, tear-stained eyes, but this was all he could do for you right now without pushing you too much.

“Please? For me?” he pouted, sticking his bottom lip out and placing his hand over yours which was rubbing his knee. He cupped your hand and flipped it so he could intertwine your fingers, then picked it up and pressed gentle kisses on the back of your hand while staring into your eyes. Both actions cause a feeling of comforting warmth to fill your stomach.

You really didn’t feel like eating anything, but you did all this to take his mind off the game and lighten his mood, and not doing what he asked wasn’t going to help at all. The pouty look on his face was your biggest weakness so that wasn’t helping either, you could never say no to that adorable face. “Okayyy,” you giggled, giving in to his ask and then seeing his entire body light up when you grabbed the fork.

“That’s my girl,” he smiled as his baby blue eyes lit up with a warmth that made your heart skip a beat. He then leaned in and pressed another soft kiss to your cheek, the gentle touch lingering long enough for your belly to flutter.

He then picked up his fork and dug into the pie, taking a big, generous first bite. His face went from playful to pure bliss at the first taste of the cinnamon and pumpkin. “Oh, babyyyy,” he groaned, closing his eyes for a second as he savored the taste. “This is so fucking good,”.

“That sounds all too familiar,” you smirked while raising an eyebrow at the sounds and words that left his mouth.

“Dirty dirty mind,” he shook his head and laughed while chewing on the pie in his mouth.

You smiled as you watched him take more bites of the pie, feeling a bit better because of his reaction. The tension in your body, for a second, seemed to fizzle out as you watched him enjoy what you did for him. The warmth of the kitchen, smell of the fresh pie, and the soft sounds of the TV in the background made everything feel normal again–like a safe space where you both could just be yourselves.

He took another bite, his eyes darting over to you as you continued to stare at him with hearteyes, “I’m serious, you’ve outdone yourself,” he said, his voice muffled with a mouthful of pie. “Don’t know what I’d do without you..or this pie,” he winked.

“I love you,” you blushed as you leaned over and pressed a wet kiss to his cheek.

“I love you more, but,” he said as he swallowed the bite in his mouth, “You’re still not eating,”.

You looked down and saw the fork in your hand and the untouched pie next to you, realizing you were so caught up in watching him that you hadn’t had any of the pie yourself.

“Oops,” you said while pursing your lips and staring down at the dessert.

Joe used his fork and stuck it into your pie, slicing a generous piece out before using his other hand to lift your chin. “Open up,” he said, raising his eyebrows and holding the fork in front of your mouth.

You laughed softly, “Seriously?”. The look in his charming eyes told you that he was 100% serious.

“Come on, you’ve gotta eat something,” he insisted, his tone a mix of teasing and genuine sincerity. He moved the fork closer, allowing the sweet smell of pumpkin to enter your nose while he rested his other hand on your knee this time, squeezing and rubbing just like you were doing to his knee.

You rolled your eyes before leaning in and opening your mouth to take a bite, the moment the pie touched your tongue you felt the warmth and sweetness explode in your mouth. Man, were you good at baking.

Joe attentively watched your reaction as you chewed on the slice of pie, a look of satisfaction on his face as he watched you swallow the bite. “See? Isn’t that good?” he asked.

You nodded, not being able to hide the smile rising on your face. “Yeah, you were right,” you giggled, the spices lingering on your tongue. “That’s soooooooooo good. But I think it tasted even better because you were feeding me,” you winked.

“Well, there’s more cominggggg,” he grinned as he stuck his fork in your pie again and picked up another bite before bringing it up to your mouth. “Woooosh,” the noise coming from his mouth mimicking a rocket ship as he zig-zagged his hand around.

You smiled and stared at him for a few seconds, your heart swelling at the look in his eyes. It was a look of comfort, of relaxation. Last week, the look in his eyes was cold, it was tense. But this time, it was just filled with ease and love and it was all because of you.

“Aaaaah,” you said as you opened your mouth for another bite of the delicious pie being fed to you by your favorite person on the planet.

—

After letting him feed you the rest of your pie, he gathered your dirty dishes and brought them over to the sink before coming back to his barstool and sitting down next to you again. He leaned over and captured your lips in a sweet kiss, the taste of pumpkin on both your lips making it even sweeter than usual.

“Mmm, that tasted good,” you hummed as you playfully bumped his knee with yours. You were expecting a flirtatious response from him, somehow roping in the concept of sex into the conversation because he seemed to be in that mood earlier, but instead, he just stayed quiet while staring down at the counter.

“Uh, oh,” you thought to yourself, your hips squirming in your seat at the sudden change in the atmosphere. It felt as if the room got darker, maybe even colder–just like the inside of Joe’s brain. You brought your hand up and started rubbing his back, “You okay?” you asked, nervously biting your lip because of the look on his face.

“Yeah, just thinking,” he sighed, placing his hand on your knee again.

“Thinking about anything in particular?” you said while giving him a heartfelt smile.

He took a deep breath before responding, “Talk to her, Joe. Don’t push her away again,” he thought to himself. “…D- do you think we can talk about it? About the game?” he quietly asked you, meeting your eyes a few seconds after saying that.

Joe tried to forget about it, and he did for about half an hour because of you and the pie you made for him. But he knew better than to keep everything in like that, knowing what would happen if all that stayed inside of him and built up. He refused to go back there, especially after getting a flashback of what that felt like last week.

The sudden change in his voice, his eyes, and his body language threw you for a loop. You thought this would distract him for a bit longer, but it didn’t.

But wait. Why did you want to distract him for longer? You wanted him to open up to you, confide in you. So why did you want him to not think about the game?

Was it because you were the one who didn’t want to talk about it? You didn’t want to unpack those feelings, not his, but your own?

“No. He needs me right now. I can’t let my feelings get in the way,” you thought to yourself, “Be strong for him, Y/N. Stop being selfish.”

“Y- yeah,” you nodded. “What’s going on in your head?” you asked as you slid your hand up to his hair, threading the strands through your fingers while lightly scratching his scalp.

“I’m just so frustrated, Y/N,” he sighed. “We were supposed to win, we were going to win,”.

“I know,” you said, letting out a shaky breath as your body braced itself for whatever was about to come out of his mouth.

“And I played like total shit. That fumble just gifted them 6 extra points and if I didn’t lose the ball like a fucking idiot, we would have likely won the game,” he said as his eyes welled with tears. “And we’re right back where we were. 0-2 as fucking usual and it’s my fault,” he sniffled.

“It’s not your fault, Joey,” you frowned. “The whole team could have done better, especially the defense. You did so good, much better than last week,”.

“Not good enough,” he said, his voice laced with self-criticism. “It wasn’t good enough…I wasn’t good enough. I try so hard, you know? I do everything I’m supposed to, even more, 90% of the time. But things..they..they never go my way,” he added, the crack in his voice breaking your heart for the millionth time today.

“I know, Joe. Trust me, I know,” you said as you lowered your head to catch his eyes. “But you can’t be this hard on yourself, you know that right?”.

“The flags, the Ja’marr thing, the stupid fucking mistakes. It all just went to shit so fucking fast,” he said as he turned to meet your eyes, ignoring what you said. “And our playoff odds keep decreasing which makes this even worse. If we go 0-3, I don’t think-,”.

“Joe, stop,” you said while moving your hand to cup his cheek. “You’re doing it again,”.

“I just…I can’t help it? I just feel like I let everyone down again,” he started to say and quickly kept going once he saw you start to open your mouth to say something. “And I know. I know what you told me last week, I heard you loud and clear. I thought I could go out and get it done this week and I acted like it too. During practice, in the press conference, over the phone to you, in the locker room to the guys–but once again I fucked up, and look at what happened,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper as you saw his bottom lip start to quiver. “I k- know why we lost but I do- don’t at the same time?” he choked out, a single tear falling from his eye and sliding down his cheek. “I did everything I could and I still feel like I’m letting everyone down,” he repeated, his breaths getting shorter. “Especially you,” he whispered.

You felt your eyes pool with tears, your emotions threatening to spill out as you stared at him. Seeing him like this, weak and questioning himself, was the one thing that could break you into a thousand pieces. He was so confident and strong in the face of adversity but in these quiet moments, those voices in his head were the loudest and he couldn’t help it. The doubts crept in and he started to undermine his success, and that shattered you.

Watching him struggle with his confidence cut deeper than any of your own insecurities. You knew how much he gave to football, how much he sacrificed for this, how much he loved what he did. It crushed you to see him struggle like this and for a second think that he was letting anyone down. To you, Joe was more than enough–on and off the field–and seeing him question that was making you feel an unbearable amount of pain.

“Joe,” you whispered, your voice shaky just like his. “You’re not letting anyone down. Especially me, I swear. You don’t see yourself the way I do,”.

You saw his glossy eyes soften, searching yours for any sort of comfort and relief but as he gazed into your eyes, you knew he could see the emotions you were holding back. The mix of fear and love, concern and support. His vulnerability mirrored your own, and that made this hurt even more.

“I know you feel like you’ve got the weight of the world on your shoulders and it feels like those shoulders are wobbly right now,” you nodded, feeling the tension–the burden of everything he carries both on and off the field radiate through his eyes. “But I promise you, Joe,” you whispered. “You’re strong enough to handle all of this. Even when it feels like too much, even when you doubt yourself. You’ve shown how strong and capable you are time and time again and everyone knows how talented you are. Don’t let one game define a legendary, history-making career, Joe. Don’t let yourself forget who you are. You have all of this because of your talent, your success, and your abilities. You’re the kid from small-town Athens, the third-stringer from Ohio State, the star quarterback of the LSU Tigers, and the franchise quarterback of the Cincinnati Bengals. But most importantly, you’re one of the best to ever step onto that field and hold onto that football. Don’t forget who that kid is, who that boy is, who that man is, and who that player is. I know it feels like you’ve been hitting wall after wall every season, feeling like you’re losing something each time you get onto the field but everything you lose is a step you take,” you said. “You make mistakes, you learn from them, and you revise and get better each time. That’s what you do, Joe,”.

“Don’t feel pressured to do everything on your own. You don’t need to blame yourself for the loss, you don’t need to blame yourself for the slow start. You don’t have to do this alone,” you continued, your voice raw but completely reassuring. “Everyone’s here with you, Joe. I’m here with you. We’ll carry the weight together, okay?”.

“No.” he shook his head. “You don’t…you won’t do that,” he said, his voice rougher but still laced with a tone that made you want to never stop crying. “I don’t want you in any situation like that, not after what happened today,”.

You felt your stomach churn at the mention of today’s events. You really didn’t want to go there, but you knew you had no choice. Majority of the reason Joe was upset was because of what you had to deal with during the game. Yeah, he was frustrated about the loss, but the way you were treated made it so much more worse because that was a direct hit to his heart. “Joe, I-,” you began to say before you heard a soft sob come from in front of you.

“I’m s- so sorry, Y/N,” he said as he looked back into your eyes, his tears now fully streaming down his face. “I’m so fucking sorry that you have to deal with all of my shit. And year by year it just keeps getting worse for you and I can’t do anything to stop it. When I first started off in the league, your only worries were if I was able to go out there and throw the ball and have a chance to show everyone what I was capable of. N- now, you have to constantly worry about my in- injuries and what people say about m- me,” he sobbed, his tears falling faster and his body starting to shake.

You quickly reached out for him, placing your hand on the back of his neck and pulling him over so that he was laying his head on your chest. “Joe, baby,” you whispered, cradling his head as you tried to keep your tears at bay.

“Y- you had to pick up so much slack every time I g- got hurt,” he cried into your chest as you threaded your fingers through his hair. “You did so much for me that nobody ever saw, nobody will ever see. And they treat you like that? Because they fucking hate m- me?”.

“Shhh, shhh. It’s okay, Joe,” you calmly said to him as you leaned down to press a kiss to his hair. “I’m fine, I swear,” you sniffled, holding back your tears as best as you could.

“N- no,” he continued, “You’re not. I knew you were crying b- before I got home. It was because of me, right? Because of what I said in the press conference?” he asked, looking up at you through his wet, glossy eyes.

Your eyebrows softened, and before you could even find the right words, your eyes said everything for you.

“I knew it,” he continued as he hid his face in your chest again, your shirt fully soaked from his tears.

“J- Joe…,” you trembled, taking a deep breath before continuing. “Stay strong, Y/N. He needs his support system right now,” you thought to yourself. “Please stop crying, baby. Please? You don’t need to apologize for a single thing,” you continued with a more stable voice. “I know you’re trying to protect me,”.

“Yes, I do," Joe choked out. "Because now you have to worry about getting insulted and harassed by random fans who have some vendetta against me, but think it’s okay to take it out on y- you." His voice broke, and you could see the guilt flooding his eyes. "You’re the only person who’s truly stuck by my side through everything. You do so much for me, and you don’t deserve to be treated like that but you are, because of me. You had the most awful things said to you and it was all my fucking fault. It was my fault you were crying. It was my fault you couldn’t enjoy the game. It was my fault that earlier after the game, you felt like you had to hide this from me,".

He took a shaky breath, the weight of his words hitting him harder as he continued. "You can’t even go to a fucking game without getting hurt because of me," his shoulders trembled slightly. "I- I’m always hurting you, aren’t I?" he wept, those last four words coming out in a broken whisper as if they physically pained him to say. His grip on you tightened as if you were the only thing holding him together and preventing him from crumbling into a pile of dust.

Hearing him say those words ripped you apart. He was hurting, and it shattered you to think that he saw himself as the cause of your pain.

“Joe,” you said as you tightened your embrace around him, “You’re not hurting me,” you added as you gently cupped his face with one hand. “You’re not,”.

“You’ve never hurt me, Joe. Not once,” you said as you wiped away the tears that were freely falling down his face. “What those people say, what they do–it’s not your fault. None of that is in your control and it doesn’t, for a second, change how much I care for you. How much I care for this world you’ve built for us,” you blinked your tears away and added.

Joe shook his head, refusing to accept your words, but you continued on regardless. “You mean everything to me and I’m not going anywhere, no matter what. You’ve never once hurt me in the 5 years we’ve been together. You’ve never given me a reason to think about running for the hills, never given me a reason to ever think about what my life would be like without you. You’ve showered me with so much love, so much happiness that I never thought was possible. You are perfect, Joe. In every aspect. It’s going to take a lot more than just some idiotic, insecure, flawed football bros to get to me and leave your side. Hell, the entirety of Kansas City isn’t even enough to pull me away from you,” you said as you leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Please stop blaming yourself for what other people do. It’s not your fault that the team lost this game and it’s not your fault that some men in this world just have small-dick energy all the time,” the last bit of what you said lighthearted on purpose.

You notice a small, brief smile begin to form on his face after you finish talking. It was faint, but it was there. Seeing that smile, even just a glimpse of it, filled your chest with relief. Your words had reached him, if only a little. “I love you, Joe. I love you no matter what,” you said while resting your chin on his head and holding him close to your heart as you felt him start to loosen up.

“I- I love you too,” he whispered against your chest, pushing himself deeper into your embrace and wishing he could just melt into your body and forget about all his worries.

In that moment, you could feel how much he needed this–how much he needed you.

Your words and your touch were his anchor, his support. You grounded him when the weight of everything threatened to pull him under and in these quiet moments, that anchor allowed himself to be vulnerable and to lean on you completely. And you were more than willing to hold him up, even if it meant setting your feelings aside.

You moved your hand to his back, gently rubbing circles around his frame in soothing patterns to ease his discomfort. “I’ve got you,” you whispered softly, feeling his breathing even out second by second. “Nothing’s gonna hurt you, baby,” you whispered before holding him a little tighter.

An hour later

You got him to calm down a little, but deep down, you knew this wasn’t something that could be fixed in one conversation. It wasn’t just about losing the game tonight, it was about you. And when it came to you, Joe never played around. This wasn’t going to be an easy thing for him to move past and the look that lingered in his eyes told you that. Honestly, you hadn’t even moved past it yourself. But you didn’t want to unload your feelings onto him, not right now. He needed you to be his rock, his safe place, and you couldn’t let yourself add to the storm swirling in his head.

You brought him upstairs a little after he stopped crying and calmed down. You told him that he needed to shower, not because he stank, but just so he could wash the day off himself.

While he sat on the bed, you went into the closet and pulled out his favorite pair of sweats, clean boxers, and a comfortable shirt for him and set them inside the bathroom before turning the shower on and setting it to the temperature you knew he loved. You then motioned for him to come inside with a sweet smile on your face.

“Your shower awaits, my king,” you playfully bowed and said, earning a soft chuckle from him. “Thank god he can still laugh,” you thought to yourself.

“Thank you,” he rasped with a smile, his voice still scratchy from crying earlier, as he slid off the bed and walked to the bathroom where you were, “My queen,” he added with a soft kiss to your lips.

After watching him get undressed and slip into the shower, you quietly went back out to grab another shirt to replace the tear-stained one that was clinging to your body. When you stepped back inside, the sound of the water running and the silhouette of Joe moving against the foggy glass filled the space. You walked over to the vanity, setting the shirt down on the counter. For a second, you stood still, gripping the edges of the counter. Your eyes met your own reflection in the mirror and you saw the undeniable tiredness behind them as well as the redness from the tears you shed earlier. Your eyes softened for a second, the urge to start crying coming back but before a tear could fall from your eye, you wiped your eyes, “Hold it together, Y/N,” you whispered to yourself. “He needs you right now,”.

“Y/N?” a voice from behind you asked.

You quickly turned around and saw Joe peeking his head out from the shower, his hair soaking wet and water droplets sliding down his body and onto the floor. “Can you come in, please?” he asked with a pout.

You quietly stared at him for a few seconds before quickly breaking eye contact and flinging your clothes off so you could join him, which resulted in another adorable chuckle from his lips. You needed to wash the day off just as much as he did.

Once you slipped into the shower with him, the heat of the water instantly embraced you. Before you could fully settle in, Joe pulled you into him, his hands gently gripping your waist as his lips found yours with a frantic intensity. The way his lips were moving against yours was deep, raw, and full of emotion. He needed to feel you, he needed to remind himself that you were still there and that you weren’t going to leave.

His hand slid up your back, which was now wet as both of you were standing under the rainfall shower head, his gentle fingers tracing shapes around your back as he deepened the kiss. Your arms wrapped around his neck, one hand moving into his wet hair as the other hand rubbed his shoulder.

His lips didn’t leave yours for a single second as the water poured over both of you. Every inch of your skin was drenched, the droplets sliding down your body, but that didn’t matter. The water was washing away all of the emotions of the day and was leaving you two in your own intimate bubble. However, nothing about what was happening in the shower carried any sexual energy, it was pure love and comfort. You could feel that he needed this more than anything, and you were right there for him.

His hands continued to roam around your body, slowly but deliberately as he continued to remind himself that you were right there with him. A few seconds later, his lips left yours as he started trailing soft kisses down your wet jawline and neck. Each press of his lips against your skin felt like an apology and a promise all at once–his way of saying that you were his safe space, his sanctuary, and that he was sorry that something came so close to infiltrating his safe space and that he promised it wouldn’t happen again.

He then moved his forehead to rest against yours, briefly staring into your eyes, before mumbling, “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” while gently squeezing your hips.

You looked into his tired baby blues before cupping his face with your hands, “It’s a good thing you’ll never have to find out,” you whispered, then leaning forward to capture his lips in the soft kiss again, your noses brushing against each other as you pulled him in closer.

You felt awful that Joe was feeling like this–mentally, physically, and emotionally exhausted. You wanted nothing more than to kiss his worries away and get rid of all the doubt and the pain by doing such a simple task. He didn’t deserve to feel this pain, this disappointment, this self-doubt. He worked so hard for everything, for football, for you–and seeing his hard work not pay off felt like a constant punch in the gut. Nothing hurts worse than seeing the person you love give their all to something–no matter how draining it was–and for it to rarely give anything back.

It was even more painful when you saw him cry because of you. The thought of you being a burden, you adding to his stress, was still stuck in your mind. You felt guilty because most of this was your fault. If you weren’t there, then those men wouldn’t have said anything; Joe wouldn’t have a reason to feel this guilty.

He blamed himself for the entire situation, and you blamed yourself. Except, he was being open about his feelings with you and you weren’t. The roles were reversed from last week. You were shutting him out in order to remain strong for him, and he knew that which made him feel even guiltier.

“I love you,” he said in between the tender kiss, snapping you out of your daze as his hand cupped your cheek and thumb traced your cheekbone.

“I love you, forever,” you replied, your hand pushing his lips back onto yours. He needed to remind himself that you were still there, but you needed to remind yourself that he was still there too. Even if you didn’t want to admit it to him.

—

After helping him shower, you finally got him comfortable in bed. The tiredness on his face was evident, but his mind was clearly still spiraling. It was a long day, emotionally draining for both of you, but you knew he needed rest more than anything right now.

You slipped into the bed next to him, immediately turning to your side and pulling him into your body. His hands instinctively wrapped around your waist as he laid his cheek against your chest, your hands threading through his damp hair as you pressed light kisses around his face.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he whispered a few quiet minutes later as he looked up at you with his tired eyes.

“Shh, Joe,” you cooed as you moved his head back to your chest. “It’s okay, you’re okay, I’m right here. Go to sleep, baby,” you added with a kiss to his forehead, your heart breaking at his confession because that meant you were right; he wasn’t over it.

He gave you a small nod before taking a deep breath, “I love you, Y/N. Thank you for everything you do for me,” he whispered, pressing a few kisses to your chest before fluttering his eyes closed.

The rest of the hour was spent like this, with Joe wrapped tightly around your body. His head rested against your chest as you contuted to whisper gentle sweet nothings into his ear in hopes of soothing his restless mind. Occasionally, you’d press soft kisses against his forehead, his hair, and his cheek–each kiss adding to the palliative effect. Slowly, the tension was leaving his body and his breathing evened out. Your fingers continued to move in his hair, your nails lightly scratching his scalp which you knew always calmed him down. “I love you,” you repeatedly whispered with a gentle kiss to his temple. “I love you too, like a lot a a lot,” you said, echoing what he often times said to you.

About thirty minutes later, Joe was finally passed out like a baby, his face relaxed and free from worry. You glanced down at him, a soft smile tugging at your lips at the sight of him peacefully asleep and because of the sound of his soft snores.

“Thank god,” you whispered, relief washing over you because you got his brain to turn off for the night.

But unlike Joe’s brain, yours was still moving at the speed of light. Now that everything around you was quiet again, the voices in your head got louder. Normally, you were usually the one who had trouble falling asleep and Joe would be there to help you, but this time it was the opposite.

You stared up at the ceiling for a few minutes, hoping and wishing that doing this would bore you to sleep somehow, but you were so wrong.

You let out an exhausted sigh before reaching over and grabbing your phone from the nightstand, making sure to quickly dim the brightness so it wouldn’t wake Joe up. “Looking at old photos always calms me down,” you whispered to yourself as you opened the photos app on your phone, getting ready to do what you did last week after you and Joe’s argument. Looking through old photos, specifically from happy moments, always seemed to calm you down in moments just like these.

You made an album specifically for photos of you and Joe in your photo app; it was like a little treasure box of memories that always brought a smile to your face. It was also your secret weapon for moments like these–when things got heavy and you needed a reminder of the simple times.

You tapped the randomizer button, your usual go-to when you wanted some nostalgia with a hint of surprise. This button would pull up any photo from any year, any moment, without any warning–which is why it was so special. You never knew what photo you would see, but it was always guaranteed to be a moment worth reliving.

You tapped the button, this time a photo of the two of you from 2020 popped up on your screen.

You were in the driver’s seat of the new car Joe had just bought and he was right next to you holding the camera–a pure, deeply in love smile and look on both your faces.

Flashback to 2020

“God, this car is amazing,” you smiled over at Joe as you turned onto the next street in your neighborhood.

“I know right?” he nodded. “It feels like we’re gliding on the clouds or something, it’s so smooth,”.

Currently, you two were driving around your new neighborhood that you had just moved into in Cincinnati, a few months post-NFL draft. Joe had recently purchased his first luxury car with his contract money, a beautiful sleek Maybach, and you were spending the evening driving it around and enjoying your quiet time together in your new city.

Joe drove you around downtown Cincinnati first–both of you making a list of food places you were going to try, parks you were going to visit, and the prime date night spots–and then offered to switch places with you once you got back to the suburbs area. At first, he was going to let you drive around the city instead of him, but you were way too scared that you'd end up hitting something or crashing to let yourself even think about sitting behind the wheel. But, after a half hour of him sweet-talking you and reassuring you everything was going to be alright while driving, you were now in the driver's seat and were whipping the car around like it was no big deal.

That was the Joe effect.

"I love dating a rich man," you winked at him, earning an eyebrow raise from him that would send you straight to your knees if you were standing up right now.

"Well, I love being a rich man who can spoil his sexy girlfriend at any time he feels like," he smirked.

"Are you sure you don't love being my passenger princess even more?" you giggled as you reached over to turn the air conditioner down when you saw him pull the sleeve of his hoodie down. "You look pretty damn comfy over there," you said while looking down at his feet, which were only covered with his socks as he decided to take his shoes off.

"Oh, baby I am comfy," he groaned. "This seat is like a marshmallow or something," he sighed as he wiggled his shoulders against the seat.

"I told you," you smiled, hitting the right turn signal as you approached the stop sign. "I just wish we could figure out how to set up the audio system. I'm missing our music right about now and was hoping we could do some car karaoke today," you sighed as you turned right and started going down another street.

"Yeah, I know," Joe sighed next to you, cupping your upper thigh with his hand, prompting you to glance down for a second. "Ah, ah," he shook his head when he noticed you looking down, "Eyes on the road,".

"You better not move that hand any higher, Burrow," you said while giving him a heated look, knowing his hands were dangerously close to a certain spot.

"I won't, I won't," he nodded with a cheeky smile, knowing the hold he had over you. "But anyway. Since we don't have music to keep ourselves entertained, how about a short, our version, game of 20 questions?".

"Oooo," you said with wide eyes. "I love that idea!” you chirped. “Let’s make it couple themed too, to add to the vibe,”.

“You got it,” he smiled over at you, his heart swelling as he watched you sitting so relaxed next to him, driving your new car, in your new neighborhood, in your new life together. It was silly, but he couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t believe he was getting to do this with you, the one he loved the most. Back at LSU, the thought of this happening was a dream for him even though he was watching it all unfold right under his nose. It didn’t really hit him that you two were doing this–starting the next phase of your lives, the adult phase, the phase where you were together together in every single aspect–until you two had signed the lease for your first home together last month.

“Okay, the first question for you,” you smiled. “What’s the romantic thing you’ve ever imagined us doing together?”.

Joe looked ahead on the road as he thought of his answer, but he really didn’t need to think for that long because the answer was so obvious as he’d thought about it about a hundred times every night before going to sleep. “Getting married,” he turned his head and smiled at you.

Married.

You felt your stomach do a backflip when those words registered in your head. He’d never said this to you before or ever brought up the idea of getting married, even though it was all you could think about after your first date back at LSU. You thought that it was just your brain getting overexcited at the possibility of your childhood fantasy of marrying Prince Charming coming true–and your first date together solidified that he was the Prince Charming you were waiting for–but you had no idea that he felt the same way.

“When we’re ready, of course,” he added, snapping you out of your trance.

You looked over at him, your eyes twinkling with love for him which made his heart skip a beat. “Really?” you breathed out.

“Hell yeah,” he smiled. “You’re my girl, my lady. My one and only. Why would I want to pass up on making an extraordinary woman like you, my wife?” he asked with an adorable smile. There was a certainty in his voice, a certainty that left no room for doubt. Joe had always been sure of you, even when you got in your head and questioned things. The way he said it, with that cute, boyish smile, it was impossible not to feel it too–the deep love and the absolute certainty he had in the two of you.

“I love you,” you pouted, watching him lean in and press a quick kiss to your lips.

“I love you more than anything in the universe,” he winked.

“Okay, my turn again,” you beamed as you looked back onto the road, Joe nodding beside you and rubbing his thumb across your thigh. “If you could describe our chemistry in a sentence, what would you say?” you asked him.

Joe’s eyes sparkled with a soft smile as he thought about your question. “I’d say our chemistry is like lightning in a bottle–rare because so many people search for what we have their entire life, unpredictable like anything could happen which keeps us on our toes but also not too unpredictable because we’re lightning in a bottle so it’s contained and secure, and full of energy, but always electric whenever we’re together,”.

“So sweet and poetic,” you smiled as you glanced over at him. “If football ever gets boring, I think you should write a poetry book."

Joe chuckled, his hand still resting on your thigh as he gave it a playful squeeze. “Oh yeah?” he smirked. “Think I’ve got what it takes to be the next great romantic poet?” he winked, clearly amused by the idea, but the way he looked at you–like you were his muse–made it feel like maybe he could.

“Mhm. I think you can write a better Sonnet 18 than Shakespeare did,” you teased.

“I appreciate the confidence,” he grinned as he moved his hair back with his fingers. “Okay, I have a question for you,”.

“Shoot,” you replied.

“What’s the most enticing way I can wake you up?” he smirked, the energy in the car going from playful to sensual within 5 seconds of him saying that.

“With your head in between my thighs,” you blushed. “That feeling of your soft scruff rubbing against my skin, your beautiful nose against my clit…Ugh, it’s too perfect. Best way to wake up,”.

“Damn, you didn’t even have to think about that one,” he laughed.

“Nope. It’s happened all too many times for me to prefer any other way of getting woken up. Except for that one morning, the morning after the date you told me you loved me, when that almost made me miss my psychology exam,” you giggled. “Then I would’ve preferred a coffee to wake me up but every other time, that’s the best way,”.

“Good to know,” he chuckled. “Okay, next question. If we could have a dance party, just us, what song would you dance with me to?”.

“Teenage Dream, Katy Perry. Duh,” you grinned. “You make me feel like I'm livin' a teenage dream, the way you turn me on, I can't sleep, let's run away, and don't ever look back, don't ever look back,” you sing.

“My heart stops when you look at me, just one touch now baby I believe, this is real, so take a chance and don't ever look back, don't ever look back,” he sings along with you.

“Damn, okay Katy,” you giggled, applauding his ability to stay on the pitch and sing with you.

“Thanks, babe,” he smiled, doing a little bow in his seat.

“Oo, I have another one. What’s one thing you love about me that you don’t tell me enough?” you asked him with an eager smile.

“Hmm, that’s a good one,” he said, biting his lip as he thought carefully about what to say. A few seconds later, he looked at you with an almost shy smile. “How strong you are,” he said. “You don’t realize it, but you’re the strongest person I know. You always take care of everyone else–your friends, family, me–without ever asking for anything in return. And you never give yourself enough credit for how much you handle. I don’t tell you that enough, but I see it every day,”.

“I’m gonna cry,” you pouted, placing your hand on his which was resting on your thigh. “I love love loveee you,” you said as you brought his hand up, intertwined your fingers, and brought it up to your lips for a kiss.

“I love you,” he smiled, those three words always coming from his lips and never getting old or redundant. Since he said it so often, it was a constant reminder of how deep-rooted his love was for you. He was all in for you, so infatuated with you to the point where being without you caused him physical pain.

You turned onto the next street–the street where your house was–which signaled the game was coming to an end. “Since we’re almost home, I take the final question,” Joe smiled as he sat up in his seat and reached down to slip his shoes on.

“Okay,” you grinned.

“What’s one thing that I could do that would turn you on immedi-,” he began to say but before he could finish answering you interrupted him.

“The eye-brow raise,” you blurted out, a crimson blush rising on your face at the mental image of him doing the one thing that sent you straight to your knees in front of him.

“Oh?” he said, surprised at your straightforwardness.

You slowly turned your head to him, your eyes widening when you saw him doing said eyebrow raise at you right now as you turned into the garage of your home. “Joseph Lee!” you shrieked, slapping his thigh gently.

“I mean, we are home now,” he laughed, the smirk on his face screaming trouble. “At least we won’t have to get the car dirty,”.

You stared at him with your jaw practically on the floor before he laughed again and used his hand to close your jaw. “Just kidding,” he smiled, “Maybe..” he added with a whisper.

“Mhmmmm,” you squinted your eyes and nodded as you turned off the car.

“Anywayyy,” he said as he unbuckled his seat belt and turned to you. “You like driving the car?”.

You unbuckled your seatbelt and turned to face him, matching his movements, “I mean Of course, who wouldn’t? It’s a Maybach,” you giggled.

“Great, it’s your new car,” he grinned.

Your eyes widened, “What?” you gasped, your voice filled with disbelief.

He laughed, his smile getting even bigger at your reaction. “Yup, it’s all yours. Figured it was time you had something this valuable to match how valuable you are,”.

You stared at him with a mix of emotions swirling in your body, “You’re kidding right?” you asked, half expecting him to say it was a joke. “I thought this was your car?”.

“Nope. I’m getting a Porche for myself. This one is just for you, a special car for my special girl,” he smiled.

You blankly stared at him for a few seconds before sliding your Uggs off and hopping over the center console, into Joe’s lap. You couldn’t believe that he just bought this car for you, something so expensive and grand. It was just for you.

He really loved you more than anything in the world, and everything he did just showed you how all in he was for you. This was another thing added to the list, a very long, lengthy, beautiful list.

You didn't even ask him for anything, he just knew.

“Woahh, hey,” he laughed as his hands instantly went to your waist.

“I fucking love you,” you grinned as you started attacking his face with kisses. “Like I seriously don’t deserve you at all,”.

“You deserve everything and more, baby. You deserve the world and I can’t wait to give it to you,” he said to you, the look in his eyes sending chills down your spine.

“Thank you, Joe. Thank you for all of it,” you smiled before you started peppering kisses around his jawline, feeling his scruff against your lips.

“No need to thank me. You deserve it for all you do for me,” he smiled.

“I do need to thank you,” you said as you pulled away from him and looked into his eyes, your eyes now filled with mischief and pure heat.

He raised his eyebrows at your teasing expression, “Okay if you insist. But how so?”.

You looked him up and down as you licked your lips, an idea sparking inside your head. You leaned forward and placed your lips at his ear, “I think we should christian the new car? For its other use, not just driving. What do you think?” you whispered to him.

“I think that we should get the car dirty,” he smirked as he moved your head back to his view and started kissing his way down your neck.

“Huh, that’s funny. I was thinking the same thing,” you smirked as you pulled his face back up to yours.

End of Flashback

The photo then changed to another one from 2020. This one specifically was from January 13th, 2020.

You were in Joe’s apartment, tangled in the sheets of his bed with him, and he was holding the camera in front of you both as you both sported lazy, high-on-the-feeling type smiles on your faces.

“That was a fun night,” you smiled, immersing yourself in the memory again.

Flashback to Joe’s apartment – January 13th, 2020

“Fuck, that was good,” Joe breathed out as he fell back against the sheets, turning his head over to look at you to make sure you were alright.

“You have...a lot of energy,” you panted with a satisfied smile as you came down from your high, turning your head to look over at him through his messy hair.

“I feel like I can run a marathon,” he lazily chuckled as he propped himself up on his elbow and looked down at you.

“No running marathons tonight, we’re celebrating,” you winked as you leaned forward to press a kiss to his bicep.

“That’s okay, I’ll just use my energy on you,” he smirked, “If you can handle it,”.

You let out an offended scoff, “Excuse me? Think I can’t match your stamina?”.

Joe looked around the room, avoiding eye contact with you as a smirk tugged at his lips. You grabbed a pillow from behind you and gently slapped his chest with it, “May I remind you of your birthday last month?” you giggled, reminding him of that very very long night you two spent in his apartment celebrating his birthday, alone.

“Okay, Okay,” he said, taking back what he said. “Fair point. You can handle it,”.

“Damn right, I can. I’m a National Champion’s girlfriend now, I can handle anything,” you smiled as you laid back against the sheets again, stretching your arm out to cup his face and rubbing your thumb along his cheek.

“I’m really glad you didn’t mind celebrating here, just the two of us,” he said a few quiet seconds later as he moved your hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss to your palm.

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else or with anyone else, Joe. You’re all I need,” you said to him as you pulled him down and pressed your soft lips against his.

“That’s great because,” he said between the kiss, “I really didn’t want to be out there tonight,” he said as he went back to your lips, maneuvering himself in the sheets so he was on top of you again.

The LSU Tigers had just won the National Championship just a few short hours ago at the Mercedes Benz Superdome in New Orleans. The entire city was alive with celebration and excitement, and the team was riding the high of their victory tonight. While most of the players and their partners were hitting up every club and bar on Bourbon Street, you found yourself in a quieter, more intimate setting.

After wrapping up his media appearances for the night, Joe surprised you. You thought you two would just go with the rest of the team to whichever bar they wanted to raid first but Joe just had a feeling you were slightly opposed to the idea of bar hopping all night because he knew you didn’t really enjoy getting blackout drunk in order to have fun, and he was the same. So instead, he took your hand and led you to the car, alone–just the two of you.

The streets, the media, the entire state was buzzing with thrill and excitement over tonight’s game and Joe’s NFL ready performance, but Joe was only thinking about you. He knew how great the game was, how good he looked, and what this meant for his future as a Pro. But he could care less about all that right now. For him, tonight wasn’t about the parties, the lights, or the drinking–it was about sharing this moment with you. The person who had been with him since the start of his journey down here.

“My little hermit crab,” you giggled as you pulled away from the kiss. “Even when it’s all about you, you still want to hide away in your shell,”.

“Well, I’m not alone in my shell,” he pouted, “I have you and that’s all I’ll ever need,”.

“I love you,” you said as you brushed your nose against his. “And I’m so proud of you,”.

“Babyyy,” he shyly said while stuffing his face in your neck to hide his rosy cheeks.

“What?” you said as you looked down at him. “I think I deserve to tell you how proud I am of you an unlimited amount of times tonight,”.

“You’re gonna get tired of it,” he mumbled against your neck as he was pressing sloppy kisses around the bare skin.

“Oh, I am never getting tired of saying it I’ll have you know that,” you said as you stuffed your hand into his hair and played with his curls. “You always find a way to make me prouder so I’m always going to have something new to be proud of,”.

“...Keep talking,” he said a few seconds later as he moved his head so that it was laying in your neck.

“Gladly,” you said as you pressed a kiss to his forehead, your voice soft and filled with emotion. “Do you even realize how far you’ve come? You’re not just the guy who won the College Football National Title tonight. You’re that kid from Athens, Ohio who fought his way from being a third-string quarterback–someone who people didn’t believe in, someone who thought his shot might never come as he sat on the bench for every game,”.

Joe stayed quiet as he listened closely to what you were saying to him. “You broke free from that, baby. You took every challenge, and every setback, and used it as fuel to get here. You didn’t give up when things weren’t going your way, and now look at you? National Champ, Star QB, and a leader of a team that believed in you because you believed in yourself,”.

“That little boy from Athens has come so far. So far from throwing a football in front of twenty, maybe thirty people at a pee-wee football game, to throwing a football in front of thousands of fans with even millions more watching from TV. You’ve worked so hard for this and I want you to be as proud of yourself as I am of you. Because tonight…you didn’t just with the trophy. You proved to yourself, you proved to everyone, that betting on yourself always works. That you are so much more than everyone gave you credit for. You proved that Joe Burrow is that guy and is going to be that guy for years to come,” you added, feeling him hold onto you a little tighter as you continued talking.

“You did this, Joe. You did the damn thing you always dreamed of doing as a little boy. And this wasn’t just some lucky break, this was you turning that dream into reality. Every time you threw a football in the park with me when you got here, every practice, every struggle–it brought you here. You didn’t let anyone’s doubts or opinions stop you. This win, this night–it’s everything you’ve worked for, everything you’ve earned. And it’s just the beginning of your story. Who knows where you’re going to end up after the draft, but all I know right now is that you’ve done what you set out to do. Whether it’s to the NFL or wherever life takes you, you’ve shown nothing can hold you back. The sky isn’t the limit, Joe,” you said while feeling him press a kiss to your jaw and then a wet droplet streaming down your neck, likely a tear droplet from his eyes. “Little Joey Burrow from Athens who used to look up at the sky, dreaming of moments like these? He’s made it. He’s touched the sky. And now, nothing is stopping him from reaching even higher than the sky,”.

“I am eternally proud of you,” you said, ending your sweet speech with another kiss on his forehead.

You hear Joe’s soft sniffles come from under you, “I love you, Y/N. I really fucking love you. I think out of everything that’s happened to me since coming to LSU, including tonight, you’re by far the best thing. I don’t know how I lived my life all those years without you, to be honest. And I know I can’t live the rest without you either,”.

“Aww, Joey,” you cooed. “I can’t live without you either,” you said as you brought his face back up to yours and mashed your lips against his. “I can’t and I won’t,” you said as you pecked his lips. “Can I go where you go? Can we always be this close, forever and ever?” you asked him, the look in both your eyes answering that question for you both without needing to say anything.

“You don’t need to ask me, baby. You’re going where I’m going whether you like it or not,” he smiled. “It’s you and me for infinity,”.

“Good,” you nodded, a warm feeling in your heart as you two lightly touched the topic of your future together. “I’m not letting go of you if you want me t-, ahhh!” you shrieked as Joe grabbed your waist and easily flipped you over so that you were on top of him.

“What were you saying?” he smirked as his hands gripped your waist with an intensity that matched the look in his eyes.

“Damn, you’re strong,” you giggled as you leaned forward and moved his hair out of his eyes, your bare breasts dangling in front of his face which was all he could think about now.

“Damn, you’re sexy,” he groaned as he slid his hands up your bare back, pushing you forward so that he could latch his mouth onto a nipple.

You fluttered your eyes closed as you felt him swirl his tongue around your sensitive bud, “Ohh, yeah,” you whispered, your hips rocking against his as a jolt of pleasure vibrated through your tired body.

“Mm, I wanna taste you,” he said as he pressed kisses along your sternum before moving to your other breast. “I think I deserve a sweet treat for winning the Championship,”.

Joe’s breath hitched as your hands slid up his chest, your fingernails gently scratching his skin, His eyes darkened as they locked on yours, the intensity between you building with each parting second.

“I mean, it’s only fair,” you shrugged playfully, your voice soft but laced with desire. You bit your lip before adding, “But I want to ride you,” meeting his gaze with a look that spoke volumes. There was a fire in your eyes, one he couldn’t resist, one that seemed to pull him in deeper.

He swallowed hard, his body already reacting to the heat between you, completely mesmerized by the way you looked at him. “Damn,” he whispered, his voice raspy as he slid down on the bed and brought you with him. "You always know exactly what to say to drive me crazy,"

“I know,” you winked, “It’s my job,” you added before you felt him grip your waist again, this time feeling him lift you from his hips and onto his chest.

“You ready?” he asked you, making sure you were alright even though this wasn’t the first time you’d done this before.

“Oh, hell yeah,” you grinned as you spread your legs wider and moved onto his face, lining your slick core with his mouth.

A few seconds passed by as you got comfortable, his hands tightly gripping your waist and your ass as you let out a few breathy moans at the feeling of his perfect, ski slope nose rubbing against your aching clit. “Joe,” you whimpered.

He looked up at you and the sight of you biting your bottom lip and holding onto the bedframe was enough to make him cum without you even doing anything to him, he was mesmerized by you.

He used his tongue to lick a long stripe across your slit before thrusting his tongue into your core, your hips beginning to gently rock back and forth against his face. “Mmm, fuck,” you moaned, a warm feeling fluttering through your belly as you felt yourself getting lost under his touch.

“Fuck,” he blubbered underneath you, “You taste like heaven,” he said while closing his eyes and gripping you even tighter. The feeling of his scruff against your bare skin was driving you insane. There was legit no better feeling on this planet than feeling his scruff in between your thighs.

He continued to lap at your folds with his skillful mouth, even looking up at you with his wild eyes a few times and noticing how you threw your head back each time his lips latched onto your clit, even how you fell a little forward when his nose would rub against it. He was as skillful with his mouth as he was with his hands, both always moving with precision and perfection on you. He always knew what to do in order to send you over the edge, he knew your body like it was a road he’d driven down over a thousand times.

“Joe, fuck…you’re so- you’re so good at t- this,” you moaned, stuffing your hands into his fluffy, disheveled hair as you rocked your hips back and forth a little harder.

Your grip on his hair was as tight as the grip he had on you, both of you steadying yourselves due to the intensity of the pleasure unfolding between you. “Yeah, just like that,” you whimpered after you felt him move his hand to your wet heat, his thumb grazing over your bundle of nerves as you felt yourself inching closer to your orgasm.

You tugged on his hair a little harder, this time earning a moan from him that vibrated through your entire body and sent you straight to heaven for a second as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, “Ah,” you whimpered as you felt the band in your belly tighten with each expert flick of his tongue and scratch of his scruff against your core.

“I’m gonna cum, baby,” you whispered as you closed your eyes, your entire body hotter than the sun with the way his mouth was going unhinged on your soaked core.

Joe opened his eyes and glanced up at you, a feeling of accomplishment and pride coursing through his veins, and it wasn’t because of winning big tonight. It was because of you. Because he was the only man on this planet to get you like this.

He latched his mouth onto your clit, flicking the bud with his hot tongue as you felt your high starting to come over you with each nip and suck of his mouth and the feeling of your waist being squeezed by his big hand.

“Joe…Joe…Joe!” you screamed a few seconds later as you felt your orgasm cut through you, your hands gripping the bed frame so that your tight grip didn’t end up ripping his hair out. “Oh my god, fuck,” you whimpered as you felt your release fall into his hot mouth and his tongue continuing to work you through your high.

“I love you,” you breathed out a few seconds later once you looked down at him, feeling him smile into your drenched heat as he continued to coax you through your high.

And in that moment, you once again realized that there was no other place you both would rather be right now. You were away from the noise, from the flash of the cameras, from the distractions. This felt like the real celebration. The one that mattered the most. Joe had achieved one of his dreams, and the only thing that made it sweeter was sharing this private, intimate moment with you.

All the sacrifices, sleepless nights, countless hours of practice–it all led to this. And the one person he wanted to be with, more than anyone else, was you.

You were both exactly where you needed to be. Together. And that was the real victory.

End of Flashback

You snapped back to the present when your phone turned off and the light was no longer reflecting onto your face. Your face felt wet, as well as your eyes as you looked down at your phone which had droplets sliding down the screen. You didn’t even realize that while reliving these memories, you started crying.

You swiped at your face, trying to wipe away the tears as if you could get rid of the feelings that had overwhelmed you. You glanced down at Joe, praying that none of this had woken him up–which thankfully it didn’t.

“Everything was so simple back then,” you thought to yourself as you felt a few more straggling tears slide down your cheeks. You missed those times, those times when your only concerns were what bag and clothes he was going to bring to his first practice as a Bengal or what team he’d end up going to post Natty win & NFL draft.

And now? Now there were so many concerns, worries, and thoughts that needed to be sorted. But why? “When did everything get so complicated?” you asked yourself as you glanced back down at him, his puffy eyes still closed and his mouth slightly open as the soft snores continued to come through. “Why did everything get so complicated for him? Why is he in so much pain? He doesn’t deserve this…he works so hard. He does everything he needs to do. He does so much for me and for this life, we built,” you thought to yourself again as you felt your stomach drop.

You wished you could do something to help him, do something to just fix everything that was bothering him. But you couldn’t.

The only thing you could do was remain strong, remain as his anchor, and prevent him from going under.

Even if sometimes you felt like you were about to go under yourself.

You leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead before whispering, “I’m so sorry Joe. I wish I could take away your pain, I wish I could make this better. You deserve the world and I’m so sorry that I can’t help you in the way I should be,".

"I’m sorry," you whispered again as you felt another tear slide down your cheek.

–To be Continued–

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