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watchmegetobsessed · 10 months ago

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EVEN IF IT TAKES FOREVER

A/N: aaaah im so excited for yall to read this!!! im kinda ashamed to admit this whole idea came from something i heard in an ep of milf manor but lets just move past that lol

WORD COUNT: 9k

WARNING: sexual content, toxic and verbally abusive relationship, cheating (not from Harry or Y/N)

SUMMARY: Harry Styles is used to get any woman he wants, everyone knows that. But when his interest shifts towards you, everything changes and he is ready to wait for you for as long as it takes, even when he finds out you're engaged to your asshole boyfriend. Not even that ring on your finger stops him from pining after you.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

You don’t have to look up from the drink you’re making to know who just walked into the bar. It’s like the atmosphere of the whole place shifts instantly whenever Harry Styles appears, a sixth sense always triggers a siren in your head before your eyes could spot him crossing the space between the entrance and the bar.

You’d be lying if you said you felt no excitement every time he shows up, the way your heart starts hammering in your chest is a great tell that he is anything but neutral to you, but you’ve been trying your absolute best to keep yourself under control. For one, he is known to be a flirt. Every woman in town knows that Harry loves three things, attention, pretty women and the combination of the previous two. You’ve seen him around with different partners every time, but never with the same twice. You heard the stories, the gossips and the whispers, how he shakes every woman’s world and then leaves, never giving the chance for anyone to even try to tie him down. This is not what you want or deserve.

And for two… You’re taken. Engaged, to be precise.

When you spot Harry you instantly hide your hand behind your back, hoping the diamond ring won’t catch his eyes, because you know he would flip.

Apparently, his latest fixation has been none other than you. He came into the bar about two months ago for the first time. He sat by the bar and clearly tried to flirt with you all evening, ignoring all the women who were brave enough to go up to him. He remained focused on you and as the evening carried on he became more and more blunt about his intentions with you.

“So, are you coming home with me?” he asked when you walked out at the end of your shift. He was waiting by the back, leaning against his motorcycle. You were never blind, you saw how attractive he was then and you still see it now, but you just shook your head no.

“I’m taken.”

“You got a boyfriend?” He arched an eyebrow and you nodded. You expected him to give up, but instead, a devilish smirk took over his expression. “It’ll be even sweeter when I win you over, Angel.”

You were taken aback by his confidence and you were surprised when he showed up the next day, but got used to his presence quite fast.

It became a sort of usual, have him walk in not long after your shift starts, he sits by the bar so he can talk to you, he drinks one or two beers and then asks if he could take you home once you’re done. You decline and then it starts all over again.

An unexpected feature of his never dying attempts is that you’ve actually got to know each other during those long hours when he sat by the bar and entertained you while you worked and when he drops the cheeky act he is actually someone not just bearable but rather pleasant. You’d never admit it to him, but you kind of think of him as a friend, you’ve shared some things with him about yourself not many know.

Like how you found out your boyfriend cheated on you.

“You look stunning, as always, Angel,” he greets you as he takes his usual spot and you’re already pouring his drink.

“And you’re being flirty, as always,” you give him a knowing look, but he just smirks. You give him his beer and then move over to another man by the bar.

When you return you notice the change in him and you know he saw the ring. As if you could still hide it from him, you cover it with your other hand, even though you did nothing wrong.

“What’s that?” he asks, though it’s obvious he knows it’s an engagement ring.

“Harry…”

“He proposed to you?” he asks, eyes snapping up to meet your gaze.

“Yes, he did.”

“And you said yes?” He is clearly growing angrier by the second and you worry, because he tends to lose his temper easily. You don’t think he would ever hurt you, but he might take his anger out on something or someone else.

“Yes, that’s why I’m wearing the ring,” you say and try to keep yourself busy, moving the clean glasses in front of you around.

“Y/N what the fuck?! You can’t be fucking serious.”

“I am and it’s none of your business,” you snap at him.

“The guy cheated on you!”

“Would you stop airing my private life for everyone?” you hiss at him, looking around to see if anyone has heard him.

“Then explain to me how you are so stupid that you want to marry a man who doesn’t love you?!”

You’ve had enough. Checking if there is anyone waiting to be served you find no one so you walk out from behind the bar and grab Harry’s wrist, pulling him out through the back door to the empty parking lot behind the building.

“Who do you think you are? You have no right to talk about me or my relationship like that!”

“Y/N, you are making a huge fucking mistake!”

“A mistake would be trusting someone about dating who has never stayed with a woman for longer than a couple of hours! What the fuck do you know about love or marriage when you can’t even stay until the morning when you fuck someone?”

It might be petty, bringing up his reputation against him just to invalidate his words, but he brought the worst out of you.

“Because I don’t fucking lie to women about what I want! Your man lied right into your face and then only admitted to cheating when he was busted. You think he wouldn’t do it again? You think he is not doing it now? Cheaters don’t change, Y/N. He doesn’t fucking deserve you.”

“And you do?” you snap at him as your anger takes over your body. Maybe it’s because he brought up what Jeremy did or maybe it’s because he is lecturing you about something he has no right to stick his nose into. “Let me guess, I should ditch Jeremy and run to you? We fuck, have one great night and then leave me like you leave everyone, is that what I should go for? Is that what I deserve?”

He seems to be at a loss of words and that’s new. He probably wasn’t expecting you to call him out so explicitly, but it’s been building up for a while.

“Do me a favor and stop trying to orchestrate my life. I’m more than capable of making my own decisions. Go and chat up another woman, fuck her so you stop trying to stick your dick inside me.”

You walk past him and straight inside, your rage doesn’t die down for a couple of long minutes. You take a few orders and then slowly get back to the workflow and manage to forget about Harry for a bit. When you glance towards his spot you see that his beer is still there, but he never returned. For a second you get uncertain, have you gone too far?

No. He deserved it and everything you said was valid. It’s not your fault he can’t take the truth.

Two days pass by and you see no trace of Harry. You find yourself looking at his usual seat from time to time and you mistake a few tall brunette guys with him, but he never actually shows up. You tell yourself you should be happy he is out of your hair, but somewhere deep inside you there’s still some disappointment that you try to push down every time it threatens to bubble up.

Sunday comes and it doesn’t start off the best. Jeremy is in a mood all morning and he just practically picks a fight over anything you do. It’s whether what you cook, where you put the scissors or how you forget to lock the backdoor, he overreacts everything and by the time you’re leaving for work you’re a mess from all the fighting you’ve had.

Being away from him is actually a bit of a relief, but your peace only lasts until he starts texting you and somehow you end up fighting again, this time about the outfit you wore to work. A simple black skirt with a white t-shirt, you’ve worn this before and he didn’t even notice, but today it seems like the skirt is too short for his taste and the shirt is too see-through.

JEREMY: Enjoy the attention of every fucking men in the bar.

JEREMY: Congrats on being a slut.

You’re angry at him, but you’re also too tired to run around in circles. When he sets his mind on something nothing can change it, so there’s no use trying to convince him you’re not doing it to get other men’s attention.

You put your phone aside and ignore it for a while, but apparently, that wasn’t the right decision. Because the next time you check it you see a bunch of missed calls from Jeremy and another thread of texts.

JEREMY: Answer the fucking phone Y/N.

JEREMY: Are you fucking someone in the toilet?

JEREMY: If I find out you fucked someone you’re dead I swear.

There’s only twenty minutes left until closing and the bar is almost entirely empty, so you step out to the back and call him.

“Are you done fucking?” That’s what he says when he finally picks up.

“Are you done being an asshole? I’m not fucking anyone!”

“Don’t fucking talk to me like that! I know you’re sucking dicks for tips, don’t even try to lie to my fucking face!”

He is vivid, shouting on the other end of the line and it’s making your head throb. You’re tired and you don’t want to deal with his unreasonable jealousy right now. All you want to do is go to sleep, but you know if you go home you’ll just continue from here.

“I’m not lying, you’re delusional!”

“Stop with the fucking lies! Don’t fucking come home until you can’t admit the shit you’re doing! I will not have a woman lie into my face!”

“What the hell are you talking about? You can’t tell me not to go home, that’s my place too!”

“I’m sure you can find a place to sleep if you suck another dick.”

And with that the call ends. You’re staring at the screen in disbelief for several moments before the tears start rolling down your face. You lean against the brick wall and slide down as you let the sobs bubble from your throat. You try to call him again, but it doesn’t even ring.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whisper to yourself as you bury your face in your hands.

You always kept telling yourself Jeremy has a temper and that he doesn’t mean it when he says these nasty things, but every time it happens again it gets harder and harder to believe that you could put up with it. You get that it roots in his jealousy, but he shouldn’t act like this with you, you know it’s not normal and yet… you still haven’t been able to do anything against it.

You’re so buried under your pain that you don’t even notice the motorcycle that rolls into the parking lot and stops just a couple of feet away from you. Harry’s voice is what snaps you out of your spiral.

“Y/N? What are you doin–Hey, what happened?”

He rushes over and kneels in front of you, one hand on your back as the other lifts your head by your chin.

“I’m fine,” you breathe out, as if he couldn’t see your tear soaked cheeks and bloodshot eyes.

“No, you’re not. What happened? Did someone hurt you?” Seemingly he is trying to find wounds on you, but you shake your head.

“It’s just… I-I don’t…” You can’t get the words out, it’s like your mind is blocked.

“Come on, let’s go inside.”

He helps you up and you don’t protest when his arms curl around you and he keeps you close to his chest as he walks you inside. He pulls you to the stool he usually takes and makes you sit before walking behind the bar and pouring you a glass of water.

“I need to close,” you croak and try to get off the stool, but he stops you.

“I’ll take care of it.”

You faintly hear him making the last few people in the bar leave and then the lock turns on the door before he returns and sits beside you.

“Now tell me what happened.”

“I don’t want to talk,” you breathe out as you close your eyes. When you open them again, Harry is still there looking at you patiently.

Then he stands and walks back behind the bar, grabbing a bottle of tequila from the shelf along with two shot glasses.

“Alright. Then let’s drink the pain away.” He pours the liquor into the glasses and then pushes one over to you, holding up the other one. For a second you just blink at him, a warning going off somewhere in the back of your head, but you’re quick to turn it off.

Drinking the pain away actually sounds nice right now, since you can’t go home until Jeremy is having his episode.

So you finally take the shot and you catch a tiny smile from Harry before you both chug down the alcohol. And soon more follows, at least on your side.

About thirty minutes and three more shots later you’re definitely drunk. But at least you stopped crying and can actually laugh now, practically on anything Harry says.

“Oh my God, stop!” you cackle, slapping your hand onto the bartop.

“No, I swear! I climbed out the window and fell straight into the jacuzzi!”

“Did her father see you?”

“No, I would be dead by now if he did?” he chuckles.

“I can’t believe you were such a playboy even as a teenager!” you keep laughing.

“What, are you surprised?” he cheekily asks.

“Honestly, not that much,” you snort and reach for the tequila bottle, but Harry pulls it away from you. “Hey!”

“Maybe let’s slow down a bit, yeah?” You pout at him, but he just grabs a normal glass from behind the bar, fills it with water and hands it over to you instead.

“What, you’re not up for a bit of fun?” you grin into the glass, but take a few sips anyway. “I thought that’s what you wanted.”

“I do want to have fun with you, Y/N. But I’m also concerned at how fast you downed those shots,” he admits smirking.

“Ah, how sweet of you, as if you don’t just want to take me to bed,” you scoff, but you didn’t mean it in a bitter way this time, like before. “Isn’t it tiring?”

“What is?”

“Ah, don’t make me say it!”

“I genuinely don’t know what you’re talking about, Angel.”

“Angel!” you groan and then let out a sigh. “Aren’t you tired of running after me? I mean, you’re used to getting your way with women. Honestly, I thought you’d stop by now.”

Harry just stares back at you and it gets intimidating, especially when a smirk curls the corners of his mouth up. Your cheeks already feel quite hot, but now they are burning. You always hated how bothered he could get you despite all your effort to reject him in every possible way.

Just when you think he’d ignore what you said forever, he finally speaks up.

“Would you believe me if I said it’s because you’re different?”

“Oh no, don’t give me this bullshit!” you scoff and then just laugh it off. You change position on the stool and try to cover up just how much his words affect you.

Because it might have been the corniest thing you’ve heard from him, but you’re also just a girl who’s a hopeless romantic and this is exactly the stuff that can turn you into a giggly mess in a heartbeat.

“Why is it your first instinct that I’m just bullshitting you, Y/N?” he asks, but he is not at all accusing, more like curious. You purse your lip, but decide not to say anything, just sip on your water. Harry walks out from behind the bar and takes the stool next to yours. “I think you don’t know your real worth, Y/N.”

“And you do?” you roll your eyes at him teasingly.

“I would love to, but as long as you don’t let me get closer to you, I can only work with what I see. I know you probably think I’m just lying to get into your pants, but if there’s one thing you should know about me is that I’m always telling the truth. I’d been lied to before, many times and I know what it does to you, so I would never do the same to you or anyone.”

“Is this your way of buttering me up?” you smirk, but narrow your eyes at him. Your wording makes him laugh.

“Of course.”

“Ah, you are so smooth, I hate that about you! And I hate how handsome you are.”

Oops. That’s definitely the alcohol talking, you’d have never admitted that to him sober. You catch the surprised smirk on his face and you immediately regret opening your mouth.

“So you think I’m handsome, huh?”

“Oh shut up! I can see your head getting big!” You point at him, but he grabs your hand in the air and tugs at you gently, just enough to make you hop off your stool and fall towards him. He catches you by the waist as you end up between his legs, your hands end up on his chest as you try to find your balance.

“I would love to hear you say how handsome you find me, but just know, that you’re playing with my self restraint.”

Even despite the shots, you can feel the switch, your breathing becomes shallow and you make the mistake of letting your eyes move down to his lips for a moment. His fingers dig into your waist and though you know you should move your hands, you love how you can feel his warmth under your palms.

“Do you want to tell me what happened earlier? Why were you crying?”

“Jeremy,” you say in a whisper.

“Did he hurt you?”

“Just… with his words.”

“That’s still not okay, don’t downplay it. What did he say?”

A small voice in you is telling you not to tell him more, but his undivided attention and care towards you feels so good, it’s something you haven’t experienced in a while. Jeremy is different, he is not the soft type and though you’ve been telling yourself it’s fine, you can’t deny how much you’ve been craving this kind of connection with someone.

“He accused me of cheating, that I… I suck people off for money.”

Harry’s hands stiffen on your waist, but he stays silent and gives you the chance to talk. You can feel your throat closing up again and your instinct is to close up, but you want to take this weight off your chest in any way possible, so you don’t hold yourself back.

“It wasn’t the first time he flipped, sometimes he just… loses his mind and takes his frustration out, often on me.”

“Has he ever hit you?” Harry asks in a somewhat cool tone, but you can tell he is holding a lot back.

“No,” you shake your head. “But his words… He called me a slut tonight.”

Harry exhales sharply and you see his jaw jumping. Your reasonable self is pounding down the door of the room you shut it into, but you blatantly ignore it as you push closer to him. It’s your first time being this close to him physically and you want to hate it, you really do, but truth is you feel yourself being pulled towards him and you’re just too tired and weak to fight it.

When one of his hands moves to cup your cheek you’re ready to give in. You part your lips and give him an unmistakable look and you expect him to take advantage of the moment, but he surprises you by turning his head to the side with a heavy sigh.

“Is it not what you want?” you ask quietly, trying your best to ignore just how rejected you’re feeling all of a sudden.

“You know it is,” he replies, turning back to face you. “I want you more than anything.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

He shakes his head and your stomach sinks. You try to pull away, but he keeps you caged against him.

“Hey, look at me.” His hand captures your chin to make you look at him, but you keep your gaze away from him. “Y/N, look at me,” he pleads again and you give in at last.

His thumb slowly runs across your bottom lip, making it tremble from the intimacy of his touch.

“This is all I’ve wanted since I first saw you and it’s taking everything in me not to take it. But I know you and I know that you would regret it. I would never put you in a situation that could hurt you.”

You hate how right he is, how well he knows you.

“So considerate, respecting the… bro code and everything,” you huff, hoping to break this weird mood that’s lingering around the two of you now. Harry’s head falls back as he laughs. Then he grabs your hand that has your engagement ring on and with a confident move he takes it off, throwing it over his shoulder and you just watch with your mouth hanging open.

“I give zero fucks about the bro code, especially if it’s about that asshole you call your fiancé.”

“Did you just–”

“What I do care about is,” he continues, “you. And how you feel.”

Your mind is racing but also blank at the same time. You just stare back at him, eyes drooping as the alcohol is starting to wear you out.

“So what, you’re just gonna wait around, hoping I will wake up one day and leave Jeremy for you?” you ask jokingly, but his answer comes in a serious manner.

“Exactly.”

There are a couple of seconds when the two of you are just staring back at each other and you swear you can see the universe in his green eyes, the past, the present and a future together and as much as it scares you, it also starts a fire somewhere deep in your chest.

“Can you–um, can you give me a ride to my sister’s place?” Clearing your throat you pull away and this time he lets you.

“Sure.”

You sit on his motorcycle behind him, arms wrapped around his torso tight as you watch the night lights pass by, blinking lazily, his scent filling your nose every time you press your cheek against his back. When he stops in front of your sister’s apartment’s building you almost ask him to just drive for a bit more, but you force yourself to let go of him and climb off the motorcycle.

“Thanks for… everything, I guess,” you awkwardly say while he is still sitting on the bike.

“Take an Advil before you go to bed.”

“Okay, stop babying me,” you laugh and he finally breaks into a smirk. “I guess I’ll see you around?”

It’s a simple question, but the obvious hidden question is right there, out in the open. It’s your way of asking if he’ll be returning to the bar despite the fight you had a few days ago.

“Of course. Keep my seat open.”

Nodding you’re about to turn around and walk inside, but he calls after you.

“Y/N?” You look over your shoulder, waiting for him to continue. He opens his mouth, then closes before actually speaking up. “You don’t have to believe that my interest in you is genuine. I will gladly prove it to you any way possible, but… Maybe you should look at Jeremy with the same criticism as well.”

You have no idea what to say so you just nod and then keep walking until you’re inside the building, but you stay leaning against the door until you hear his motorcycle roar up and fade into the night.

You’d love to say that after the night with Harry at the bar everything changed, but that’s not true. The next day you went back home, Jeremy calmed down by then, you had a fight nonetheless, which ended up with some makeup sex, but your head was somewhere else.

Or with somebody else.

Then it all went back to the same usual. Harry was there at the bar the next time you were working and luckily he didn’t bring up anything that happened that night. Not what you said about Jeremy, not that you practically admitted being attracted to him and not that you gave him the green light which he rejected. It’s all locked up in a box and put aside.

However you can feel a slight change in yourself. Harry’s words did stick with you and have been on repeat ever since.

Maybe you should look at Jeremy with the same criticism as well.

You and Jeremy have been together for over three years and moved in together a year ago. You can’t really remember a time you haven’t been with him. You do know that he is not perfect and the shit he pulls sometimes…

You’ve thought of leaving him before. It did occur to you that maybe you’d be better off without him when he flipped in the past and turned crazy out of the blue. But every time it happened, he went back to his sweet old self, the one you fell in love with.

But are you still in love with him?

One day, about a week later Harry waltzes into the bar, but he is not looking his usual, confident self.

“Okay, hear me out before you say no,” he starts as he takes his spot while you’re drying off some glasses. “I know you might find it hard to believe, but I have friends.”

“We are off to a great start,” you chuckle.

“My best mate, Mitch, he lives two hours away so we don’t meet that often, but he is in town this weekend.”

“Good for him,” you smile, curious about what will come out of it.

“And we were talking about what we should do and all that and I made a mistake. He suggested this club we could check out and said we should meet there at nine but I asked him to make it ten thirty, because on thursdays you finish work at ten.”

Your hand stops mid-motion and you put the glass down, giving him a curious look as you tilt your head to the side.

“Obviously he wanted to know who you were and I swear I told him we have nothing going on, but he is just so stubborn, he didn’t let it go until I promised I would ask if you wanted to come with us. So here I am, I asked, you can just ignore it and tell me to fuck off. I know you probably wouldn’t want to spend the night in a random club with me and my friend and his wife, so if you just–”

“I’ll go with you.”

Your reply surprises him the most of course, but yourself as well, though you don’t let it show. You spoke before you could think it through and not that it was said out loud and you can’t take it back… You don’t really mind it at all, to be honest.

“Are you trying to mess with me right now?” he asks, leaning closer, examining you with a narrow-eyed look.

“No. I haven’t gone out in forever actually, so I would love to.”

He stares back at you for a long moment, looking for any sign that might tell him you’re just joking, but when he sees none, he decides it’s better to just accept it.

“Okay. Okay, then… I’ll, umm… I’ll pick you up after work?”

“Sure.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” you say after him, feeling entertained that you could surprise the always so confident Harry Styles. “So tell me about this friend of yours. Is he hotter than you?”

His expression changes in an instant, the cockiness returns and there is the man you know and…

“He wishes,” Harry laughs. “I met him through work.”

The apartment is silent when you arrive home that night. Jeremy is working the night shift so you have the place for yourself until he comes home at around four in the morning. The bed is unmade in the bedroom, the plates he used during the day are in the sink and the hamper is full of his clothes. It’s all waiting for you to get everything done even though you work just as much as he does. It wasn’t always like this, you remember the honeymoon phase when he would cook for you and then clean up after, when he would bring you flowers for no particular reason.

When he would actually act like someone who loves you.

With a heavy sigh you get to work even though you just finished. When the dishes are done and the washing machine is loaded you finally sink into the couch and just sit in silence for a bit. Right until a buzzing sound interrupts your peace. Only then you notice that Jeremy left his phone on the coffee table.

Grabbing it you check the screen and see that one of his buddies is calling. The name flashes and you wait for it to stop. When he does, you just keep holding the phone, staring at your own reflection in the black screen.

Jeremy never lets his phone out of his hands, he takes it with him into the bathroom and he is always on it. Tapping on the screen the device comes to life and asks for a password. He never felt comfortable using face ID or his finger print, so he only uses a password to lock it. What he doesn’t know is that you’ve seen him type it out so many times that you actually figured out what it is.

No, it’s not your name or the date you met. It’s his favorite line of his favorite movie.

I am Ironman.

Before you could think twice, you type it in, no space, capital I in Ironman and then the phone unlocks. A rush of excitement washes over you as you open the messages in an instant and start scrolling through them.

Texts from his dad, from his boss, from his friends and texts from…

Andrea.

And Penelope.

And Bella.

And Riley.

Unmistakable messages, photos and even voice memos. It’s all there and you just keep scrolling and reading and it feels like it never ends. When you get to the end of one thread you find another. It’s not just one woman, but about a dozen. Not even you can turn a blind eye over it this time.

But surprisingly, you don’t feel like you want to scream or cry or punch the wall. Instead, you just put the phone back where it was, walk into the bedroom, grab a bag and start packing some stuff you’ll need for the next few days. When you’re done you walk into the kitchen, grab a paper and leave him a note.

You have two days to move out. Take your shit and move to Andrea or Penelope or Bella or any of your bitches. Goodbye.

Then you take the ring off your finger, place it next to the paper and walk out.

Harry wasn’t sure what he expected to see when he arrived to pick you up after your shift. He thinks you’re the most beautiful woman he has ever seen even when you’re wearing a stained shirt after a long day, so it really doesn’t matter to him what you wear.

But when you step out through the back door in your skin tight black dress that’s top sheer enough to tease him with a peek of your black bra underneath.

“Are you gonna just stand there and stare or are we gonna get going?”

He opens his mouth to say something, but then he just shakes his head with a laugh as you finally reach him by his bike.

“Let’s get going.”

You hit it off with Mitch and his wife Sarah instantly. It’s like you’ve always known each other and you can’t tell if it pisses Harry off or he just likes to be the victim every time the three of you make a joke at his expense.

Even though it’s a Thursday night, the club is pretty busy, but not the kind that makes you want to crawl out of your skin, because someone is always touching you wherever you go. Harry however stays close to you no matter what, like a guard dog, watching your every move.

It’s giving you butterflies. Especially because he is doing all this even though he doesn’t know about your little secret you will share with him, but you’re waiting for the perfect moment.

You start off in a booth, having a few drinks, talking and having fun and when the DJ starts playing songs that are just too irresistible you and Sarah drag the men to the dance floor. They try to protest, but it doesn’t last long. As gruff as Mitch can look, it’s obvious he is whipped for his wife and would do anything Sarah asks him.

And Harry… Well, the moment he sees you moving to the beat he practically glues himself to you. Though dancing is not your biggest strength, you can definitely follow the rhythm and move your body in a way that’s appealing to the male gaze.

You can tell Harry is trying to keep his cool, but the more he holds himself back, the more you push his buttons. Touching him while dancing, moving in a way that obviously makes him struggle, pressing up against him and then you pull out the big guns when you start grinding on him, when you have your backside pushed against his front. His hand on your stomach twitches when your ass meets his crotch in a not-at-all innocent way and you hear his groan even over the loud music.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Y/N,” he speaks into your ear, his hot breath sending goosebumps down your spine. You turn your head and your lips almost brush against his as you look at him innocently.

“Not having fun, Harry?”

“You’re teasing me.”

“Do you not like it?” You turn around to face him easier, but press your front against his to keep the physical contact on the same level.

“Y/N, you’re… taking it too far,” he warns you, but it just urges you to keep pushing his boundaries. You’re enjoying this way more than you probably should but you are giving yourself the satisfaction this one time. You’re not afraid of asking for his forgiveness later, because you have a feeling he will gladly give it.

“Am I doing something wrong?”

“No, but I might if you don’t stop.”

“Don’t stop what?”

“Acting like… you’re trying to seduce me.”

“I can’t do that? Why?” It finally brings him to the point where you wanted him to be.

“Because you’re engaged and I’m–” he snaps, but you don’t let him finish.

“Except I’m not.”

You both have stopped moving in the middle of the dancing crowd and Harry is staring at you as if he just saw a ghost. Slowly, you raise up your hand and show him your naked fingers. Reaching up he grabs your hand as if he had to physically touch your ring finger to make sure the ring is not there anymore.

“I ended things with Jeremy and he moved out. I’m single.”

His gaze keeps flicking back and forth between your eyes as he just keeps staring at you, it seems like you broke him and he forgot how to function, but then his expression changes and you read it perfectly.

It’s not enough for him that you and Jeremy broke up. He wants you to give him the green light.

You look down at his lips and think of all the times you fantasized about kissing them and the guilt you felt every time, but now it’s nowhere, pure desire took its place and you’re ready to give in.

You move a hand to the back of his neck and push yourself up, making that first move, but Harry is quick to take over from there. He moves fast as his lips crash down on yours, finally kissing you with the heat of his months long pining and never dying persistence.

You’ve had your fair share of passionate moments in your life before, but nothing compares to the way Harry practically devours you, he’s demanding, dominant and rough, but the more he takes from you the more you’re willing to give until he has everything in you. His hands are holding your face firmly, tilting your head in the perfect angle for him to greedily kiss you until your lips are numb and you’re gasping for air. And when you can’t keep up with his hunger his mouth moves down to your neck, kissing, biting and sucking shamelessly as if you weren’t on a dancefloor at a club. He has one hand move from the back of your neck into your hair, giving it a gentle tug while his other hand makes its way down your body, your ribs, your waist and then it stops on your ass, squeezing it without remorse, earning a moan from you that just riles him up even more.

For a split second you’re convinced he is about to fuck you right then and there in front of all those people. But to your surprise he pulls back, his hand wraps around your wrist and he starts pulling you out of the crowd. At the side he finds Mitch and Sarah dancing and he leans close to his ear. You don’t hear what he says, but judging from the smirk and the way Mitch nods, he didn’t try to sugarcoat anything.

You don’t even get to say goodbye properly, Harry lets go of your wrist, but his arm is quick to curl around your waist as he leads you towards the exit. The cool night air feels refreshing after the heat inside the club, but you don’t get to enjoy the change, Harry is eagerly pulling you towards his motorbike and when you reach it he pushes you against it before kissing you hard again. Your ass is pressed against the seat and for a moment you think it’s about to fall over along with you, but it stays steady while Harry is having his way with you. Then he just simply pulls back and helps you up, making sure you’re holding onto him tightly.

“This will be the longest ten minutes of my life,” he says, making you laugh as he starts the motor and moments later you’re speeding down the streets.

It really is an excruciating ten minutes until you arrive at your place, especially because you keep squeezing your thighs against his, giving him a rather hard time and every time you have to stop at a red light, Harry’s hands are quick to find your naked legs, roaming them shamelessly until he has to hold the handles again and focus on the road.

As soon as he parks in front of the building and you get off the bike, he is back to focusing all his attention on you, so it’s a challenge to even make it up to your apartment. His hands are mapping up every inch of your body and he takes every chance to kiss you on the lips, neck or shoulder, making it almost impossible for you to even open the front door, but at last you manage and he is quick to shut the door and then push you up against it.

But he is not kissing you this time, instead he looks at you with such passion and tenderness at the same time, it makes your whole body shiver.

“Tell me no at any point, okay?”

“Okay,” you whisper as a sudden nervousness washes over you. You are not nearly as experienced as he is and sex with Jeremy had been more about his quick relief rather than something you both could enjoy the same amount.

“Hey, we don’t have to do anything tonight. Holding you is more than I even hoped for tonight,” he admits with a chuckle and he gives you a short, soft kiss.

“I want to. I just… I’m afraid I won’t be… good enough.”

You’re nervously fidgeting with the neck of his shirt while his hands are plastered to the door behind you either side of you, keeping you caged in with his body.

“Angel, you had me running after you for two months and the past weeks felt like the longest foreplay of my life,” he chuckles. “I should be the one being nervous about coming in ten seconds.”

You can’t help but crack a smile at his words and he did ease your nerves a bit, but you’re still worried. With one hand he caresses the side of your face so softly, you almost question if he is the same man who was groping your ass not long ago in a packed club.

“I doubt you could ever not be good enough for anyone but especially for me.”

Your inside melts and there are no words that could describe the way he is making you feel. But instead of talking, you push yourself against him and kiss him, urging yourself to overcome your insecurities so he doesn’t regret choosing you.

You manage to hype yourself up so well that when you reach your bedroom you pull away and make him stop at the edge of the bed as you stand just a few feet away from him. His eyes roam up and down your body with such hunger you have never seen from a man before and it gives you that last boost to step your game up.

With slow, teasing movements you start to pull your dress up, revealing more and more from your legs, than your underwear and when the fabric is bunched up around your waist you cross your arms, grab the hem and pull it up and over your head before dropping to the floor, all while Harry is eating you up with his eyes, sitting there with the smuggest smirk on his face as he watches you like he is in a movie theater.

“Fucking perfect. Come here,” he holds a hand out that you take and he pulls you between his legs, placing your hands to his shoulders as his palms slide to the back of your thighs. He places a few open mouthed kisses to the swell of your breasts before his hands squeeze your thighs, urging you to move your legs and make you straddle him. As you climb to his lap he captures your lips in a toe curling kiss and he catches you by surprise when he flips the two of you over and throws you into the mattress.

He straightens up but just enough to get rid of his shirt, revealing even more tattoos you haven’t seen and a toned chest with abs you’re already burning to touch, kiss or lick. Or all of these above. He comes back down on top of you, his lips return to yours while his hand easily slides underneath you, unclasping your bra and seconds later he is throwing it across the room before his mouth starts moving down your neck, collarbones and then to your chest. You rake your fingers through his hair as his tongue swirls around your nipple and you gasp when he gently bites and tugs on it, flashing you a cheeky smirk when he looks up at you before he keeps moving down on your body. When he reaches your underwear he takes the elastic between his teeth and tugs on it then lets it go so it snaps back against your skin, making you gasp and give him a protesting look, but it just makes him chuckle.

“What? Don’t tell me you didn’t wear it for me,” he mumbles against the lacy fabric, skimming it with his lips.

“I did, but not to have you play with it,” you breathe out, however you quite like how playful he can get even in such a heated moment. This is a side of him you’ve gotten to get just a glimpse of but you’re getting the full ride now.

“Alright. Next time then,” he shrugs and hooking his fingers into the elastic he tugs it down as you lift your hips up and soon it joins the rest of your clothes on the floor, leaving you fully naked in front of him. But before you could worry about your looks, his mouth is already on your throbbing clit, making you forget about your whole existence.

He turns you into a whiny mess with his lips and tongue in just seconds and when he adds his fingers into the equation all you can do is repeat his name like a prayer to all powers above. You’ve never experienced anything like this, not that anyone you’d been with did it the way Harry is. Before you could even process what’s happening you’re coming on his face and he is licking up every drop of it in every possible sense.

Your body already feels like jelly when he moves back up and he kisses you with your own taste still on his tongue, but he is not even nearly done with you.

He kneels up and unbuttons his pants and then pushes them down along with his boxer briefs so now you’re looking at just how good enough he is finding you. You can’t take your eyes off his erection, it’s big, rock hard and the tip is glistening from the precum. It’s like the sight has turned on something inside you, because before you could have a second thought you’re moving until you’re on your knees as well, hands wrapping on his cock. Harry moans at your touch and a triumphant smile stretches across your lips as you lean down and don’t stop until your lips are wrapped around the head.

He sits back onto his heels, eyes glued to you as you struggle to push further and further down his length every time your head bobs down. You’re far from taking his whole cock, but every time you go down again and again he keeps praising you.

“Fuck, Y/N, you feel so good.”

“Look at that mouth, taking my cock so well.”

“That’s it Angel, you make me feel so fucking good.”

You don’t stop until your jaw is sore and when you finally come up he doesn’t hesitate to kiss you hard, pushing you back onto the mattress as he lands on top of you again.

Half blindly, you reach towards the nightstand and into the drawer, grabbing a condom and handing it over to him. You’d love to be the one to roll it onto his cock, but your hands are starting to shake from how much you want to feel him inside you already.

Once the condom is on he lowers his hips between your legs and you feel his length wedge between your drenched folds. He moves his hips back and forth a few times, coating his length in your arousal before reaching down between your bodies and grabbing himself by the base.

“As much as I want to take you in every possible pose, I meant that I might not last long,” he chuckles as the head is already teasing your center. “But I won’t stop until you come again. And I’ll have all my fantasies played out next time.”

Next time. These two words make your heart jump, knowing that he is planning to have a next time and you’re still thinking about that when he finally thrusts forward and into you, filling you up inch by inch until his whole length is buried inside you.

He stills for a few seconds, maybe to let you get used to his size or maybe to regulate himself enough to last longer, you don’t know for sure. But then his lips capture yours again and he starts moving. His hips are rocking back and forth in a steady rhythm and when you hook your legs around his waist he picks his pace up and his thrusts become a bit rougher than before, but it’s just what you needed.

Your second orgasm is already building up in the pit of your stomach and you claw at his back as he buries his face into the crook of your neck, his moans getting muffled by your heated skin. You feel his muscles flex on his back and you can tell he is close, but he is fighting to hold back for you.

He lifts his head and rests his forehead against yours, keeping his rhythm steady and you see the struggle in his eyes.

“I’m close,” you breathe out and he nods with an almost torturous look. “Let it go, Harry, I want to feel you come.”

“Not until you—”

“That’s what I need,” you urge him and he moans before he thrusts forward harder than before, he stays still for a moment, gasping for air as he pulls back and slams into you again, riding out his own orgasm that quickly triggers yours.

Seeing him fall apart because of you is all you needed.

He keeps moving for a while, but his thrusts become sloppier until they come to a halt. His whole weight is pushing against your body as your hands are lazily dancing up and down his sweaty back. You feel his heart hammering against your chest and listen to how his breathing slowly steadies before he rolls off of you. Moving with him you curl up against him, your head resting on his chest.

Then, out of the blue he lets out a soft chuckle. Curiously you lift your head to look at him questioningly.

“I think I need an award for lasting that long,” he comments and you laugh with him until his hand cradles your face and he pulls you up for a soft, lazy kiss.

A siren wakes you up that passes by the bedroom window. You grimace with your eyes still closed as you roll from one side to the other, your hand reaching out, searching for Harry’s body, like you did during the night, but this time all you find is the empty mattress beside you.

It instantly sets off a siren in your head as well.

Sitting up you look at the rumpled sheets on the right side of the bed, but Harry is still not there. Your stomach drops as you crawl out of bed and grab a shirt and a pair of panties to put on quickly before walking out of the bedroom, hoping you might find him in the kitchen making breakfast, but when all you find is your own mess from the day before, panic takes over.

There won’t be next time. That was just an empty promise, he left you just like he left everyone else. How could you even think that you were different?

Tears are dwelling in your eyes as you wrap your arms around you, but then you hear the front door open and you turn around to find Harry walking in, balancing two coffees in one hand and a paper bag in the other.

“Hey, you’re up! I went to get us breakfast, because I didn’t find much in your fridge and—Y/N, are you crying?”

“No,” you shake your head, but then a sob bubbles from your throat. Harry places the cups and the bag to the side table and rushes over to you in panic.

“What happened? Talk to me,” he pleads, but you just shake your head, embarrassed that you instantly assumed the worst of him.

It takes only a couple of seconds for Harry to put the puzzle pieces together as well.

“You thought I left,” he says.

“I got scared for a moment when I didn’t find you.”

He doesn’t try to play it off or play the victim. He pulls you into a tight hug and gently sways until you calm down. When he pulls back and looks you in the eyes all you see in his gaze is determination.

“Remember what I told you the night when I dropped you off at your sister’s place?”

“That I should look at Jeremy with criticism.”

“Before that.” You remain silent because you can’t recall what else was said that night. “I said that I will gladly prove to you that my interest in you is genuine.”

Oh, yeah. You remember that.

“The proving starts now. I will do anything to earn your trust.”

“Even if it takes a long time?” you ask, biting into your bottom lip. He smiles warmly at you.

“Even if it takes forever.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb #harry styles smut

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hausofmingi · 4 months ago

Text

spotlight | choi seungcheol

pairing: choi seungcheol x afab reader

word count: 5.6K

summary: You're so excited to get the opportunity to sound design your favorite show, Hadestown. But the new lighting guy really knows how to piss you off.

warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, sound designer!reader, lighting designer!seungcheol, switch!reader and switch!seungcheol, fight for dominance, unprotected piv (don't do that), oral (f and m receiving), semi-public?, munch behavior, head pusher (SORRY IM SORRY), use of petnames (babygirl, sweetie/sweetheart, good girl, baby)

author's note: so hi. if you've noticed i've been gone for like months and months, no i haven't mind ya business. ANYWAYS this was a VERYYYYY indulgent fic bc as you may be able to tell i dabble in theatre. but im not a sound person, maybe one day ill do a fic from an actor perspective but something about being in the booth got me IDKKKKKK. also this would never happen and don't do this it's so incredibly unprofessional. and thank you to my betas, @hausofwoo and T, yall always have my back (and so does neo).

It’s always exciting getting started on a new show. The new people, new creative outlets, new ideas to try. After the last couple years of being a sound designer, you really feel like you found your groove when it came to jumping into a new show.

This is a theatre you have worked for a few times before; a small one but it paid the techies well and even got you some union points.

The production manager, Moonbyul, was a longtime friend and had called you in to sound design Hadestown. You had to say yes, of course, to one of your favorite musicals. You had seen it on Broadway a few years before and fell in love with it, especially the production design of it all.

Moonbyul had also mentioned that they were bringing in a new lighting designer. The last one you had worked with was very lovely, but also an older man that would fall asleep between cues so probably for the best…

At the first production meeting, you were eager to get started and fire off all the great ideas you had for the production, so you wanted to get there early to get all your notes organized.

You walked into the theatre about half an hour early, expecting to see Moonbyul and Vernon (the stage manager) running around, but they were nowhere to be found.

You set your stuff down in an audience seat, and head to the stage. It had been a few years since you had been on this side of things, but it always gave you a rush to see the audience from this view; standing center stage.

Retiring from performing was not an easy choice, fueled by hate and trauma and self-judgement. But when it was time to leave, you found a space in sound design. Being taken under the wing of a longtime mentor, Jihoon, made everything come to you easy and you’ve been hooked ever since.

Even though the stage is dark, you can close your eyes and imagine the audience in front of you, lights shining, costume sparkling. You hum a few bars of “Flowers” to yourself, slowing your breathing and your brain for just a second.

BOOM. A bright light cuts through your vision. You hold your hands up in front of your eyes to shield them before you open them.

“What the heck??” you shout at whoever is in the booth.

“Sorry, sorry.” says a voice, the light too bright for you to make out a face. “You just looked like you could use a spot.”

“I’m good thanks…” you answer back coldly.

“Alright, but just know you look great from up here. Made for the stage.” the voice says.

“Thanks..” you answer under your breath, not sure how to react to the obvious compliment.

The spot shuts off and you blink a few times to adjust your eyesight. Standing in the booth is a figure, a taller man with broad shoulders. But it's still too dark to see his facial features.

It seems as if he’s just standing there… looking at you.

“Um… can you bring up the house lights?” you ask him.

“Oh yeah! Sorry..” he responds. The house lights come up a second later. “I’m gonna come down there, hold on one sec!” he says.

You step off of the stage, a little embarrassed you got caught lost in a daydream. You walk over to your stuff, digging through your backpack to get out your Ipad and pencil, if only you could find the damn thing…

A tap on your shoulder startles you and you turn around in defense. In front of you stands maybe the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. His hair was long, his bangs perfectly framing his dark, deep eyes. And man were those shoulders broad… he could probably pick you up and throw you around a little….

You were staring.

“Um.. sorry you scared me.” you said, trying to cover up your obvious gawking.

“No you’re good, I tend to sneak up on people. I’m Seongcheol by the way, nice to meet you.” he holds out his (very large) hand for you to shake.

“___” you respond, and take his hand. You’re too stunned to even move your hand to shake his, but he holds your hand strongly and commands the handshake.

An obvious indicator that he can take control.

You shake away that thought, remembering the pact you made with yourself to stay far far away from another showmance.

Your hand is still in his, and his eyes have not left yours. Has time slowed down?

“Good, you guys have met!” says Moonbyul, walking down the aisle where you guys were standing, Vernon trailing close behind. Seungcheol lets go of your hand and quickly turns around to face them.

“Ready to get this meeting started?”

The rest of the production team trickles in and the production meeting promptly starts; Moonbyul is not one for tardiness.

All the designers give their presentations, and this is always so exciting for you. To watch the production blossom from pieces of paper to onstage art is a beautiful thing. You especially love the costume designers concept of using color to show contrast between the human characters and the god characters.

Finally comes Seungcheol’s presentation. He opens up his laptop to a lighting program, already set with the stages dimensions and the set design and presses play. He explains while the lights change from scene to scene, full of color and different gobos to add texture.

There is obviously a lot of thought put behind this design. He is extremely talented. And hot.

His presentation finishes and it’s obvious how his shoulders relax. Those broad shoulders. He must not like being the center of attention, you think.

It’s your turn next, so you shake the thoughts of him away before stepping in front of the others with your laptop in hand.

You are always very prepared, already having the mic plot done and the sound effects downloaded to the board. You are super excited to present your concept for the final song- I Raise My Cup. Having seen the show on Broadway, you have a good idea of how the audience will react to the final scene of the show. Complete silence. So your concept is to have the characters sing this song with no help of the mics, completely acapella and completely raw.

“But what if the audience claps?” Seungcheols voice shoots through your confidence.

“They won't,” you reassure.

“But they might, and then what? We won't be able to hear Persephone and then the rest of the cast will be thrown off for the rest of the song,” he pushes.

“I promise, that won’t be a problem. The audience will be stunned by the heartbreaking ending, they won’t know what to do.”

“I don’t like it,” he says blankly.

Okay maybe he’s not so hot anymore.

This little shit is totally bursting your bubble, what the fuck? You were so proud of this idea, why did he have to embarrass you in front of the director and entire production team??

“Let’s put a pin in that one. Thank you for that great presentation, let's move on to props!” says Moonbyul, cutting through the tension.

You take your seat next to Seungcheol, but not before shooting him a piercing scowl.

He leans over to you once you sit down. “Hey, no hard feelings. I'm just a skeptic, ya know?” he whispers over the presentation.

“Yeah well next time please keep it to yourself. Some of us are trying to make a name in this theatre,” you shoot back.

The rest of the meeting is spent with your arms crossed, trying not to melt into the smell of Seungcheol’s cologne, but rather hold steady in your annoyance with him.

The next day is the first day of rehearsal for the cast, and although you aren’t called, you decide to come in to organize the booth a little bit.

They’re learning music on the stage, so you open the booth window so you can hear the cast sing. The music of this show is so beautiful, so romantic. It's nice to listen to while you work.

It’s when the actress playing Eurydice starts singing Flowers that you space off, lost in the beauty of the song. If you were still acting, this role would be a dream role for you. Of course you belt this song all the time in your car.

You start to sing along under your breath, knowing that no one will hear you up here.

Flowers, I remember fields of flowers, soft beneath my heels

You sing to yourself, imagining a beautiful field laid out before you instead of a 10-year-old soundboard.

I remember someone, someone by my side. Turned his face to mine, and then he turned away, into the shade.

In the field of flowers, who pops into your head but Seungcheol. That asshole is so damn beautiful you can’t help but imagine him as your Orpheus.

The song finishes out with the final notes and you sigh as your day dream dissipates, shaking away the thought of ever seeing Seungcheol in that way and returning back to the box of mystery chords you were wrapping.

Someone clears their throat behind you. You really hope it's Vernon.

“Didn’t know you could sing?” says Seungcheol from behind you.

“I don’t anymore.” you reply coldly, not really interested in conversing with him.

“You should, you have a beautiful voice,” he says.

You turn away from him as he comes to the lightboard next to you, hiding your blush.

“Thanks,” you say, trying not to show too much emotion in your voice.

Silence fills the space as he pulls up a chair and opens up the light programming app on the desktop. You direct your attention back to your cords that connect to god knows what.

“So about yesterday…” he starts.

“Yeah, that was a dick move,” you blurt out. Maybe not so direct next time.

“Look I get that you’re upset, but I just call them like I see them. I get your idea but I don’t think it's gonna work. What's wrong with a little bit of criticism?” he asks.

You take a breath before you turn to him and give him a piece of your mind.

“What’s wrong is I don’t know what gave you the idea that I asked for criticism. I’ve been working at this theatre for a long time, you’re still fresh meat. Really isn’t a good look to come flouncing in giving everyone unsolicited criticism,” you spit at him.

You get so worked up that you stomp over to where he is sitting on the other side of the booth. The look on his face is unwavering though, in fact it turns into a smirk as he stands.

He is easily a foot taller than you, looking down at you without closing the space between the two of you.

You feel so small. You swear you feel yourself throb.

“Someone’s got their panties in a twist,” he says, still smirking.

You are stunned, mouth falling open but no words coming out. That sentence has never sounded sexier.

“It’s alright, I’ll be nicer to you from now on, knowing how sensitive you get.” he says, leaning down to whisper in your ear for extra effect.

And then the asshole just walks away and sits back down as if nothing even happened.

You’re still frozen in place, in shock at the intense flirting that just happened.

“So, you said you have worked here for a while, how have you liked it?” he asks, continuing the conversation with no indication of what just happened.

This is going to be a long day.

After a few hours of genuinely torturous small talk with Seungcheol mixed with palpable silence, you decide to call it an early day. You got almost nothing done, besides wrapping and unwrapping a bunch of useless cords and clicking on random folders on the sound desktop.

As you leave, he promises to see you tomorrow and sends you off with a wink that makes your knees weak.

The next day, you get there later than usual. The cast is learning blocking in the dance studio, giving the techies free reign of the stage for the afternoon.

You’re hoping your tardiness will allow you to avoid the overlap with Seungcheol and you can have the booth to yourself.

But, no luck. There he is, sitting in the rolling chair at the lighting desktop in the sexiest skin tight compression shirt you’ve ever seen.

You don’t even realize you’re gawking when he turns the chair around. “Like what you see?” he teases.

You come back to your senses at his words. “You wish,” you grumble as you head to your station, hoping to get some work done today.

You swear you hear him scoff as he turns back to the desktop.

“Blackout!�� he shouts down to the set people on the stage, as he presses the “next cue” button. A series of “thank you blackouts!” follow, in proper theatre etiquette.

You keep quiet though.

He goes through a few more cues, calling blackout a few more times, and you still don’t say anything.

“You know, it’s proper manners to say ‘thank you’ when I call blackout,” he points out after the 4th time.

“What do you know about manners?” you grumble under your breath.

He crosses over to you, again smirking, as he says “Enough to know that you need to learn some, baby girl.”

Shocks of electricity go straight to your clit.

“Don’t call me that, get that stick out of your ass, and fucking leave me alone Seungcheol!” you shout, unsure if you're more angry or turned on or both.

You grab your stuff to leave in a hurry, all the while he doesn’t move from his spot where he’s standing; just leans against the counter and crosses his arms to watch you angrily throw stuff in your bag.

You turn to leave, expecting him to apologize for his inappropriate comment. But when you turn to look back at him, all you see is him looking at you with that stupidly sexy smirk on his face. He waves a finger at you before you stomp down the stairs and out of the booth.

You text Moonbyul and Vernon some bullshit excuse about period cramps and that you have to leave early, before going home and using up all the battery in your vibrator.

Saturday no one is called, so you use this as an excuse to go in and pick up where you left off before leaving in a huff.

Luckily you have keys, so you let yourself into the empty theatre and up to the booth.

It’s really nice to work in the silence of the empty theatre, only the ghostlight lighting the stage. You leave the ceiling light off in the booth, only leaving on the string lights you and Jihoon added to make the space more cozy.

You put on your headphones and get to work. The music director sent you a recording of the cast singing, so you make sure all your cues align with the music.

You work for about an hour before it's rudely interrupted by Seungcheol lifting one side of the headphones off your ear. You feel his breath on the shell of your ear, sending shivers down your back, before he whispers, “Boo.”

Jumping out of your chair a little bit, you snatch his hand away from your headphones and turn back around without a word to him.

“Sorry to scare you,” he giggles. “I just forgot my charger last time.”

You give him no reply, not interested in potentially entering another conversation where you leave dripping.

“Actually, would you mind if I stayed and worked on a few things?” he asks.

Again, you don’t respond.

You see him shrug his shoulders in your peripherals and sit down in his chair to get to work.

Both of you sit in heavy silence as you work, and the more silent it is, the more you feel the tension rise, with anger burning in your chest.

What is the deal with this guy? Does he like just getting a rise out of people? Why does he feel the need to torture me? What did I even do to him??

“Gum?” he asks, holding out a pack to you.

“What the fuck is your problem?” you shout back.

He looks stunned as he takes a piece out and unwraps it, popping it in his mouth. “So, no gum then…”

“Why do you treat me this way, Seungcheol? It’s fucked up,” you shout, moving towards him to really give it to him.

“Treat you what way exactly?” he asks slyly.

“You just keep saying annoying shit to me, pushing my buttons and pissing me off. But then you make me leave every conversation so turned on that I can’t even think straight. I don’t get it, what is your issue with me??” You shout at him.

He looks at you in silence for a second, his expression unreadable.

“I… turn you on?” he asks.

Oh shit. You may have revealed a bit too much….

“I… what? I didn’t mean to say that,” you stutter.

“Oh well in that case… it won’t mean anything to you if I do this?”

He stands up and turns to face you, arms leaning against the countertop, caging you between them. You swear you see the veins straining against his skin, bulging out from his thick arms as he moves closer.

He leans in close to your ear, breath fanning down your neck. You’re frozen in place, trying to focus on slowing your breathing.

“Jump,” he says. And you do, hopping up to sit on the counter. Why did you just obey him??

“Good girl.”

Oh that’s why.

“Now,” he starts, his lips moving all over your neck, so close but not touching as he breathes the next few words onto you.

“I’m really curious to know exactly what it is I do that turns you on?” one of his hands snakes up the side of your thigh, dipping just slightly under the skirt you’re wearing and playing with the edge.

“Can you tell me, baby girl?” he says before he licks a stripe up your neck.

You shudder and lean into him a little bit. It’s over for you now.

“Say the word and I’ll stop,” he says, hovering in front of your lips now.

You grab his arm to stop him from moving back. “Please,” you say in a desperate voice.

His lips meet yours, and slowly he starts making out with you. His big lips make it sloppy, but it's so hot you could care less.

He sneaks his tongue into your mouth, swirling around yours so sensually it goes straight to your throbbing pussy. He snakes his hand into your hair, guiding your head with his big hand to deepen the kiss.

The strap of your tank top falls and before you can put it back, he takes the opportunity to bring it down even more, revealing your bare breast to him. He pinches your nipple between two fingers, lightly twisting it enough to make you whimper into his mouth.

He pulls away after a few seconds, a string of spit connecting your lips. You look up at his large frame through your lashes, breathing heavily.

And then he does something you don’t expect. He drops to his knees.

He grabs your ass and forcefully pulls you forward on the counter to access you better. You know he can see the wet spot forming on your white panties, and try to cross your legs out of embarrassment.

“Absolutely not.” he says in protest, snaking his arms underneath your thighs and grabbing them so you’re practically sitting on his shoulders.

He kisses up and down your thighs, not yet touching you where you need him. You whine and wiggle your hips, attempting to bring him closer.

“Someone really does have their panties in a twist…” he smirks from below you. That little shit.

He barely gives you what you desperately need, lightly kissing your clit through your panties.

“Cheol, please…” you whine, attempting to get him to give you a little bit more.

“Babygirl, I know you can beg better than that,” he says, lifting his head up. He keeps a finger pressed to your clit as he talks, rubbing in small, torturous circles.

Your cheeks heat up, probably turning red. You’ve already given in to this annoying shit, there’s no way you’re begging for him. You just whine in response, not willing to give him what he wants.

“You sure you don’t want to beg for it?...” he questions slyly, while at the same time moving your now completely wet panties to the side.

He gives your pulsing clit a few kitten licks, just enough to give you a taste of what you could have, all while never breaking eye contact with you.

You whimper at the contact, starting to reach out your hand to grab his head and pull it closer. He knows what you're up to, though, and grabs your wrist, forcing it back to its place on the counter.

“Now try again baby, beg for what you want.” he says, slipping your panties off in anticipation.

You sit there a minute, chest already heaving with desire, dripping all over the counter.

“Please Cheol, you know how badly I need it. I deserve it after all the shit you put me through,” you say, the words tumbling out of your mouth before you can think about them fully.

He raises his eyebrow at you, smiling that stupid fucking smirk that makes you shiver. “Oh is that so?” he questions.

And then he dives in. It’s as if he has been eating your pussy for years, somehow finding the exact rhythm and pressure on your clit that makes the string lights turn blurry. His arms are wrapped around both of your thighs, as if he was trying to choke them out.

You grab the back of his head with one hand, and start rolling your hips into his mouth, chasing the high that is hurdling closer. He loves it, judging by the way he growls into your pussy, barely pulling away to mumble “fuck yes” before plunging two fingers into you.

It only takes him hooking them into your g-spot a few times along with flicking your clit with his tongue before you are cumming into him, gasping and not letting go of the tight hold you have on his hair.

He pulls away, resting his head on the inside of your thigh, breathing heavily as if he just ran a marathon. His plump lips are completely drenched with your wetness. He looks up at you through his lashes, as if you were a goddess.

Oh, it really is over for me.

“Stand up,” you order.

He questions you at first, but then gets the message when you hop off the counter and drop to your knees.

He pets your hair, towering over you, but not unbuckling his belt like you so want him to.

“You really don’t have to, baby. But it’s so sweet seeing how compliant you are.” he says with a slight smirk.

“Shut up,” you say, all the while undoing his belt. He continues to pet your hair, watching your every move.

You pull his cock out of his boxers. It's perfect; long but not too long, and slightly curved upwards. He’s definitely a fucking munch seeing how much it's already dripping precum.

You hover your lips around the tip, kissing it lightly. He hums above you in approval.

“Now, it's your turn to beg for it.” you tease, pulling away from him.

He chuckles from above you, fucking chuckles, before grabbing the back of your head with more force than before.

“Oh sweetie, I don’t beg.” he says, before pulling your head forward onto him.

A head pusher? Yeah… But for some reason, this time, it was the hottest thing he could have done.

You get to work, watching his mouth drop open in pleasure while you work your mouth up and down his length. You cup your tongue around the underside of him, pulling out every trick in the book to try and get the upperhand in this fight.

He’s very obviously enjoying it, moaning loud enough for anyone in the theater to hear and eyes locked into contact with yours. He swipes his other hand through his bangs, which are now collecting the sweat from his brow. God he’s beautiful.

Even though his hand is holding your head down, you still have full control, so you slow down your pace just a little to try another trick.

You bring your hand up to cup his balls, lightly squeezing and tugging to bring him closer. You feel his cock pulse in your mouth at the added pleasure.

But nothing could’ve prepared him for your next trick.

You slowly trail your finger backwards, lightly circling his rim to test the waters. But before you can even think about going further, you hear a gargled moan come from him, and he pulls you off your knees by your hair.

Your face meets his, foreheads touching, but you divert your eyes down, scared you may have crossed a line.

“Why the fuck are you trying to make me cum before I get to feel that pussy around me?” he asks.

Your cheeks heat up knowing that it worked, filing that info into your head for another time.

“Turn around,” he barks, but you stay still. You bring your eyes up off the floor to meet his, determined not to let him win the struggle for control.

“Funny if you think I’m going to let you fuck me from behind right off the bat.” you say, trying to put power behind your words even though you feel so little in his arms.

“Oh, well then what’s your alternative sweetheart?” he cuts back at you, as if humoring you.

“Take this off,” you say, tugging at his shirt, “and sit down.”

“Hm… but aren’t you going to take anything off too?” he asks, pulling away and pulling his shirt over his head from the back of the neck.

You get distracted by his toned stomach, your retort getting stuck in the back of your throat.

He giggles at you again, before stepping forward and grabbing the hem of the crop top you were wearing.

“How about, we take this off, but leave the skirt on?” he says, dragging his fingers along the bottom of your shirt, waiting for your consent.

You nod at him, and he swiftly lifts the top off of you, leaving you in your skirt and bra.

He silently backs up into the chair, sitting down and draping his thick arms over the arms of it.

You slowly walk towards him, really wanting to drag this part out, before you lift up your legs to straddle him in the chair.

You hover over his cock, but before you drop down, you make eye contact with him. He’s staring into you, as if looking into your soul, and you stutter your movements, all of the sudden getting nervous.

It’s as if he senses the nerves, and brings a hand to the small of your back, trying to reassure and ground you silently.

You reach your hands up to cup his cheeks, before leaning in to kiss him. This one is different though, not like the intense one before. This one is slower, tongues just brushing over each other. Kissing like you have all the time in the world.

Your hands tangle in his hair as you slowly sink onto his length, pausing the kiss to moan in each other's mouths.

As you bottom out, he holds your hips in place, not allowing you to start bouncing. “Just give me a minute, baby. You feel too good.” he sighs out.

You find it endearing how close he already is just from the kiss, and as much as you are tempted to start the game of control back up and just start bouncing, you stay still.

You press your body against his in anticipation, so that your stomachs are pressed together. He feels so warm against you, and his arms circle around your back as he lets go of your hips.

You take this as a green light and start bouncing on him, never breaking the contact of your forehead against his.

He fills you up soooo perfectly, the curve in his cock dragging so deliciously along your g-spot. You can’t help but to speed up, the sounds of his balls slapping your wet pussy fill the booth.

He’s circled his arms around your hips now, grabbing your ass and basically moving you up and down on his cock without you having to do any work. But even with that, the awkward position makes your legs burn and you start to slow down.

“You getting tired baby?” he asks, and you nod. “Do you need me to help you?” he asks, to which you nod again.

He wraps his arm underneath your thighs and picks you up out of the chair as if you weighed nothing. You knew those arms would come to good use. He sets you down on the edge of the counter before entering you again.

You keep your arms wrapped around the back of his neck as he starts thrusting into you. This angle is different than before, allowing him to directly hit your g-spot every time.

His pace is somehow way more effective at pushing you to the edge than your own pace was, and you find yourself getting desperately close to your second orgasm.

It’s as if he can read your mind, or it's probably just him feeling your pussy pulse around him tightly, but he smirks to himself. Almost too small for you to notice. But you do notice, and next thing you know he is pulling out and jacking his cock off in between you both. You whimper at the loss of him filling you up.

“Help me cum and maybe I’ll let you cum again when I get you in my bed tonight,” he breathes out heavily.

You huff out in frustration, but unfortunately, you are completely under his spell. You reach in between you both and take over jacking him off. Your other hand snakes around the back of his head, pulling it down towards you so you can whisper in his ear.

“Maybe if you make me cum again tonight, I'll let you fill me up.” you whisper in his ear.

That sends him over the edge, and he grabs the counter as he stutters in your hands, cumming all over your skirt.

You giggle as his orgasm trails off. “You owe me a new skirt now I guess.” you say.

He catches his breath before scooping you up into his arms again. “I’ll buy you a hundred new skirts if you suck my dick my like that again.”

With another giggle, you peck him on the nose. “So, does this mean I won the fight?” you ask.

“I don’t know what makes you think that babygirl,” he chuckles as he sets you down.

He hands you your shirt before finding his own. Still a gentleman even when he’s being an asshole.

A door in the theatre opens, scaring the shit out of both of you. You both scramble into the spotlight room to put your clothes back on out of sight of the huge window.

“Hey guys! I know you’re here! The director just emailed me back with some tech notes.” Vernon yells from the audience.

“Okay come on up, it's unlocked!” Seungcheol yells down to Vernon from the enclosed room, now fully dressed.

He pecks you on the lips before rushing out of the room to his seat at the counter. Which you just fucked on.

You scramble to clean off your skirt with a tissue before rushing to your own chair and sitting down. But it isn’t until you sit down that you realize, you’re still not wearing panties.

It’s as if Seungcheol reads your mind and you both lock eyes in terror. There are your panties sitting in the middle of the counter.

The door opens and Vernon starts walking up the stairs to the booth as Seungcheol grabs your panties and haphazardly stuffs them in his pocket.

“Hey guys, glad you're--” he stops in the middle of the sentence. “It smells like dick in here what the fuck??” he exclaims.

You hid your face, scared you might burst out laughing.

Seungcheol takes the heat for you though, explaining it off as him leaving some leftovers in here overnight.

Vernon takes you both through some notes before leaving, with a peculiar expression on his face.

Something tells you he has a suspicion, and you might be hearing some rumors tomorrow thanks to the nosy theatre bitches you surround yourself with…

It’s silent for a moment after Vernon leaves, before you both burst out laughing.

“Okay well that was fun, but I’m getting my chair all wet. Can I have my underwear back now?” you ask after the laughter dies down.

“Um, absolutely not! I’m keeping these,” Seungcheol says with a wink before turning back to his desktop to finally get to work.

And later that night, you both get what you promised.

a/n: thank you for reading, and please reblog and leave feedback! 💕

#choi seungcheol #seungcheol smut #seungcheol x reader #seventeen #scoups smut #scoups x reader #svt #svt smut #seventeen x reader #svt x reader

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kentoxo · 6 months ago

Text

friction | you x crush!nanami pt. 1

pairing: reader (f) x crush!nanami

synopsis: [AU] you have always had a crush on nanami. since the day you were hired as his personal assistant, you've been right at his side combating numbers and making money within the finance department for the company you two worked for. but, things take a turn when nanami catches wind of your feelings, and rejects you. little did he know the weight of his mistake.

warnings: angst, heartbreak, sexual tension, jealousy (future smut)

a/n: first!! ever!! story-driven smut!!! im so excited! literally love this man sm and have yet to make any sort of fic on him. ahhh!! let me know if yall like this idea! i'll be releasing mini parts sporadically as my free time allows me to :)

December | Tokyo, Japan

Nanami relied on you, simply because you made it a point to become ever so reliable to him.

Monday through Friday, you would always arrive just a few minutes before him, feigning an earlier arrival with your coat stowed away, and your computer on with work tabs open on the monitor. This morning, like every morning, went exactly within your expectations. You’d know he arrived by the sea of ‘goodmorning, Mr. Nanami’ flooding the office. The firm steps of his Italian oxfords would always remind you to straighten your back and await him with his cup of coffee in hand.

“Goodmorning, Nanami,” you hum, your words sliding off your tongue like butter. You don’t look at him, as you were busy basking in the privilege of long-dropped formalities. Although Nanami was very strict with work and coworker relationships, he only accepted you speaking to him informally. At least, in regards to his honorifics.

“‘Mornin’,” Nanami huffs. He takes a seat beside you, stripping away his black peacoat. It was a heavy winter in Japan, so in the ocean of snow and winds were city workers and dwellers, draped in coats or inappropriate attire. You knew it was rude to stare, but you were always entranced from seeing his body in his usual beige suit. A veiny hand presents itself before you.

You carefully fill his hand with his hot-brewed coffee, “just the way you like it. Your favorite barista was in today, finally. He was out with a cold, and took a few days off sick.”

Nanami’s free hand frantically moves his mouse, impatiently waiting for his computer to illuminate on. “It’s unfortunate his counterparts cannot mimic his talent. We may have to poach him into our corporate cafe.”

You begin to draft an email, the lingering warmth from his coffee resting in your hands. “I can draft an email for you if you’d like. You have a meeting with Mr. Takada at 2, so it could be opportune to mention it.”

His eyes casually flicker over to the calendar pinned on the dividing cubicle wall, between both of your computers. It was organized in neat font thanks to you and your handwriting. Hazel eyes begin to scan the calendar, with Nanami lightly cupping his mouth. “And were you able to postpone the team meeting for today?”

You nod, never missing a beat, “I’ve long sent the email, and made my rounds earlier today to remind them that we will not be gathering today. I’ve set up an alternative forum that works for everyone's schedule, including ours.” You reach over for a folder you had neatly sitting in your ‘complete’ basket. “I’ve already printed copies for the documents we’ll be going over, and booked conference room 3.”

“My favorite,” Nanami breathed out between swigs of his bitter coffee. “Did you double check everything?”

“All documents were revised 3 times for mathematical errors, grammar, and consumability. I’ve also prepared catering to be brought tomorrow, as the meeting would take place at the beginning of everybody's shift.”

The blonde man stripped off his blazer, revealing his alluring, navy blue shirt. He neatly drapes it over the back of his seat and leans back once again. He crosses his arms over his chest, the bulge of his bicep evident under the fabric of his dress shirt. “Any new updates from Mr. Takada or the team?” You could hear the office quiet down, the sudden silence of keyboard tapping and casual conversation.

“Mr. Takada has yet to send anything, so that is still pending. The team, however, has made quite the advance in their work. They’ve already predicted our numbers for the end of the year, with our solidified, confirmed numbers already calculated and organized in a shared Excel.”

Nanami smirks mischievously, “I don’t believe it. How’d you manage to get that out of these loafers?” A few of the staff playfully complain, receiving a small chuckle from Nanami. You felt your cheeks warm up from his hidden dimple coming to the spotlight of his lips.

They all go back to their work after exchanging light words and laughter. You lean over slightly towards Nanami, not giving him any sort of eye contact. “I let them choose the breakfast we will be catering for the meeting,” you whispered playfully.

He leans as well, “you truly are a woman of trade, Y/N.” He quickly opens up a few documents on the screen while finishing the final drop of his coffee. His bottom lip glistened with coffee, having him casually drag his tongue to wipe it off. “How about our lunch for today? You and I, that is,” he made sure to clarify.

You opened your drawer and fished out a menu. It was a menu from a seafood restaurant that opened close to the office. You slid it to him, opening it up to reveal his annotations when he initially looked through it. “I scheduled an order for both of the dishes that you had circled. Both options look delicious, so I figured we could sample from one another's plate.”

Nanami turns to you, his lips hinting at a smile. He lightly tugs the bottom of his lip with his teeth, sending shots directly at your heart. “What are we drinking?”

“I couldn’t find your favorite iced tea, but they have this pomegranate drink that I think you’d enjoy greatly,” you hum confidently, “it has yuzu in it.”

Nanami’s lips finally curve into that saccharine sweet smile. “Why do I even clock in anymore?” Nanami jokes, “I can be on autopilot so long as I have you Y/N. Thank you for being so diligent.” He begins to rise from his chair, causing a few of your fellow coworkers to look over. “I’m off to the kitchen to grab some snacks. Would you like anything from the cafe?”

You nod, “tell any of the baristas my name, they’ll know. They also have those apple pies you like today, so definitely grab one while they’re still available.”

With an excited hum, Nanami walks away from you, your eyes glued to how good that blue skirt hugged his torso. Broad shoulders, sharper blades, and muscular. His scent wafted you when he left his seat, the notes of sandalwood and frankincense taking you over. But your thirsting thoughts simply had to be bursted by Yū Haibara. He temporarily took a seat in Nanami’s seat, and turned your chair over to face him.

“Keep staring and maybe you might actually start drooling,” Haibara humors. Before you, Haibara was Nanami’s only right hand man. He is not as diligent as you are, but he keeps up with Nanami the way others can’t. “I thought you wanted to keep your crush a secret?”

Before you could respond, your hand immediately cups around Haibara’s mouth. “I’ll punch the drool out of your mouth so we can twin– can you please not say that out loud, in the office?” You grit your teeth after your words, letting your hand fall to reveal a cheeky smile from the obsidian-haired man.

“That is the most aggressive thing you’ve ever whispered to me,” Haibara whispered back, finally using his head voice. He was lucky his voice wasn’t too loud or else you would’ve mauled him. “That’s no way to speak to your manager.”

“If you were my manager, nothing would get done,” you teased, looking back at your computer to analyze some of the numbers Nanami sent you. “Did you need something, or are you just here to mess with me?”

“Both!” Haibara hums. “I’m not messin with ya, rather I just want to keep my eye out for you. I’ve already told you about how Kento feels about dating. I would hate to see you–”

“I know, I know,” you quickly shut down, waving your hand in his face. “I’m not trying to act delusional or anything. I already like him, so there’s nothing I can do.” Haibara stays quiet, not wanting to bother you.

Haibara knows when to draw the line when he teases you. He reveals a paper from who knows where and offers it to you. It was a thank you letter from the Sales Department. “I visited them as soon as I came in today. They thanked you for helping them with a small project and asked to transfer you back.”

You picked up the letter, your cheeks going warm again. You pucker out your bottom lip and hold the letter to your chest. “I miss my team so much! Ah, it felt so good to work with them again!” Your eyes then flicker at Nanami’s small name tag beside your desk.

It wasn’t that Nanami was this amazing man, but he was wonderful. When you were transferred from the Sales Department to the Finance Department, you weren’t sure you were going to do well. Especially considering you were transferred specifically to be Nanami’s assistant. But on your first day, you noticed that Nanami joined you in the empty desk beside your own. His office was not big enough to host you and your needs, so he has refused to use his office since then. He told you it was necessary to work with one another, and that sacrifices on his end must be seen in order for work to get done.

Since then, you have never let him down.

“But I’d never leave this,” you say, the sentiment in your words striking Haibara. “Their words are kind, but Nanami’s words are heavy. I feel… appreciated by him.”

Haibara scoffs enviously, crossing his arms over his chest, “wish that was me. Nanami never made me feel appreciated. He didn’t even congratulate me when I was promoted to Head Manager!”

“And I still won’t,” a deep voice sounded from behind you. Turning around, a smile tickled your lips as Nanami came back. One hand occupied your drink, while the other held a steaming hot apple pie. He delicately places your drink on the corner of your desk before going to Haibara, lightly spinning the chair with a push from his knee. “Off.”

“Am I nothing to you?” Haibara moans theatrically. “You’re commanding me like a dog on your couch.”

Nanami assumes his seat after ripping Haibara off of it, “I’d still let a dog sit on my couch. Anyways, what did you need Ms. Y/L/N for?”

Haibara quickly rushes to your side while playfully sticking his tongue out towards Nanami. “I was passing her a letter from the Sales team. They want to steal her back from us.”

You quickly elbow his stomach from him not saying the whole truth.

But it was too late. “Is that right?” Nanami murmurs. He moves his mouse to wake up the computer, immediately getting back to his workflow. “They can try, but it’ll never happen,” Nanami said simply, “I’d never approve it.”

It was… a compliment? Well, that’s how it felt like to you. It felt like Nanami wanted you all to himself, but only in a work capacity. Despite this being platonic and strictly work related, it still sent waves of emotion to your heart.

Haibara chuckles, “who knows? Maybe Y/N will go on her own accord.” You look back at Haibara, practically seething at his unthinkable words. Haibara quickly puts his arms over his stomach, protecting himself from another potential blow.

Nanami quickly removes his hands from his keyboard and looks over at Haibara. His face was distasteful. “Move away from my assistant before you rub your stupid on her. While you’re at it…” Nanami reaches over to his rack of documents and pulls out a very thick folder with a label that reads ‘To Do.’ He eagerly holds it out to Haibara, who reluctantly takes it from him. “These are all the clients we need to look through. Pick out at least 20 that you think would be an asset to the company if we worked with them.”

Haibara, without another word, drags his feet back to his office. You try to hide your smile as you excitedly pick up your iced drink. Taking a sip, you let out a satisfied sigh. “Thank you for getting me this, Nanami. I hope there wasn’t a line or anything.”

“None at all,” Nanami hums. “I didn’t realize that you liked your drinks so sweet, Y/N. I could swear you usually get a different drink.”

Your shoulders hang a bit from his words, but you were still quite upbeat, “it’s been the same since I was transferred to your department.” You made sure not to imbue your words with disappointment as you would hate to make him feel guilty. “It’ll be a year soon since I’ve joined the Finance Department.” You pointed to the day on the calendar, which was marked clearly with an X.

Nanami looks over at you with a warm smile, “you have been a wonderful addition to the team. I’m glad that Mr. Takada knew what I needed, and recommended you.”

Unable to contain your happiness from his flattery, you quickly glue yourself to your monitor. You tap away at your keyboard like a maniac, attempting to calm the quick beating of your heart. Your drink, in a way, was tasting a little sweeter than usual after his words.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #nanami kento #nanami x you #jujutsu kaisen nanami #jjk nanami #jjk kento #kento nanami #nanami smut #jujutsu nanami #nanami x reader #jjk fic

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starsinthesky5 · 6 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–

#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow imagine #joeburrow #joe burrow fic #joe burrow smut #joeyb #joe burrow fan fic

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goldenhypen · 1 year ago

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all yours ⎯ ౨ৎ

syn. making out with jake. that’s the post.

note. reader has hair long enough to tuck behind ears

wc. 0.4k

a/n. i was brainstorming ideas for another jake drabble and then got carried away w this. brace yourselves cuz im still recovering from writing this :’>

occupied with cleaning the kitchen, it was difficult to notice jake eyeing you from behind.

a yelp left your lips as the top of your head hit a firm surface. you finished standing up in shock, searching for what you had bumped into, and you smiled as you saw your boyfriend's hand protecting the corner of the countertop to prevent you from getting hurt.

a pout painted your face. “awww, jakey, that’s so sweet.” you leaned in and pressed a kiss onto his soft, plump lips that you could never grow tired of.

after pulling away, you turned around and continued cleaning the kitchen. and a pair of familiar footsteps followed. you turned around again.

you laughed, “why are you following me? what are you doing?”

jake shrugged, and you eyed him funny.

“i miss your lips.”

“my—” you continued laughing at how cute your boyfriend was, finding it hard to believe how lucky you were to have this man all to yourself.

you gestured for him to come closer, and his excited giggles and smile had your heart doing somersaults in your chest as he approached you, placing his hands on your waist, and pulling you close.

all in a split second, his grin faded and his expression grew more serious, and before you could process any of it, one of his hands flew to your jaw and pulled you in as he met your lips in the middle.

the kiss was hot, to say the least, as you could always count on jake sim to come through with. his lips were perfect. and even more so as they moulded with yours.

he poured so much passion into that kiss that it didn’t fail to take your breath away. but you kissed him back, of course, and when you felt him bite your lip, the gasp that left you had him smirking against your mouth.

teeth colliding, tongues mingling, bodies shaping into one, after a long while, he pulled away, trying to catch his breath. his lips were swollen and his eyes in a daze—your face probably matching his own, chest rising and falling at the same tempo.

he stayed close, removing his hand from the side of your face to brush a few strands of hair behind your ear, then returning to cup your jaw. he stared into your eyes again before slowly coming back to your lips.

you chuckled. “what? miss my lips again already?”

his eyes didn’t meet yours this time. all he gave you was a nod in response, a desire already returning to his gaze.

“kiss me, jake. i’m all yours.”

a/n. AHH writing this type of theme is v outside my comfort zone but idk my fingers just kept typing away and here we are 😀 are yall okay? im not okay 😀

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taglist. @raimbows4u @sultrybaby @kpop-nct @ajayke-reads @wccycc @enhacolor @enhasfever @nokacchan @yizhoutv @xiaoderrrr @soobin-chois @tyunni @shinsou-rii @vickytodoroki @softkpopplace @belle643 @nar-nia @rapmonie2047 @pshchives @sunjakes @ethereal-engene @exohclipse @yeosayang @4ri-ki @jaeyunjakesim @whoschr @enaus @hoes4hoseok @palajae @annoyingbitch83 @malarign @rcrystallocks @stepout-09-15 @zeraaax @enhasengene @pistachiophobia @svnoofy @sweetjaemss @vatterie @majesticallymark @mnsnts @en-chantedtomeetyou @yeseoist @milisabunny @wonniestars @kazmura @nicholasluvbot @haechansbbg @atrirose @aeriil11

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lostinlovingrevery · 2 months ago

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Cute SMUTTY moments I like to imagine with Logan ~

CAUTION: smut. Lol. Like straight smut and nsfw ideas

-Logan having a bad day, sitting in a chair while he complains about Scott, or Wade, or just some aashole pissing him off. Hes so absorbed in his complaints he didnt notice you pulling all your clothes off, and standing in front of him butt ass naked. His mouth hangs open when he realizes as his eyes take you in.

"Better?"

"Yeah." He nods simply, leaning back in his chair, taking a sip of the whiskey you had handed him too. Spreading his legs and still eyeing you.

-dont worry, he still gets to vent and you listen to him. He just gets to do it with you naked and on his lap.

-Logans thrusting into you and its passionate and clumsy and youre both panting and accidentally bonk your heads, leaving you both giggling, your arms wrapped around each other in a romantic embrace, taking a moment to just kiss and enjoy being together

-lazy sundays (sorry god) where youre both just being naked together in bed, holding each other. His hands explore every part of you as if he hasnt have your whole body mapped out in his head already. Its not so much sexual but more intimate

-messing with his dick. Hes sprawl on the bed and youre between his thighs, playfully jerking him off, and tapping his tip against your lips, giving him teasing kitten licks ams grinning when he groans. Part of him wants you to make him cum already, another part doesnt want you to stop playing with him.

-him coming up to you, his fingers pushing into your jeans, hooking into your panties and lifting, then snapping them against your skin- making you yelp while he grins devilishly.

"Just wanted to see what pair you got on today."

-wearing a dress (esp for plus ladies!) That accentuate your curves and belly. Yknow that cute belly pouch us ladies got? That shit would drive logan insane if youre wearing the right clothes to show that off.

-he sees you in the dress, the lighting just makes you look so damn good, hes pushing you somewhere private to get you both off (the dress stays ON)

-logan would kneed on your tittes or ass when fucking you like deadass.

-surprising him for the first time with lingerie. Omg hes so excited. The way his face lights up like a kid on christmas morning.

-hed probably torture you for an hour because he cant stop looking over how good you look. Hes tracing his fingers over the lace and shape of your body. Hes literally obsessed.

-hes praising you and everything. Calling you pretty girl, how sweet you are to put this on for him. Hes gonna treat you real good for this.

-for girlies with love handles, logan definitely makes good use of those. (Theyre called love handles for a reason 🤭)

-sucking him off and after he cums, you just rest your head on his thigh, your hand running soothingly up and down his other thigh. Its soft and intimate and makes logan feel like you really love him. (You do)

-i made a fic about this but fucking in the shower and then washing each other afterwards. So intimate!!

-the first time you and logan do it, youre so giggly and swooning over him. It ends up being more playful and romantic, which somehow makes it 10 times better. Youre comfortable with each other. Theres a lot of praising here. Logan is smiling like a fool in love over how giggly you are (plot twist he is)

-old man logan. Making him cum, praising his body and soul, giving him sweet kisses over his chest and face while he recovers post-coitus. His eyes shut and hes panting, because he hadnt felt that good in awhile. I want him to feel relief in his body, and know thay i love him ❤️

-dofp (70s and future) logan, yall I want this man to fuck me so hard i black out, he finishes, rolls to the side and lights a cigar while his cum leaks out of me and im shaking violently, and he turns back with his cigar, soothingly rubbing my back and telling me what a good job i did. (Snuggles and praises the rest of the night)

-origins logan, i wanna ride him on the floor of his cabin, while he holds my hips and looks up at me with that lovesick puppy face he makes. Him to whisper how he loves me, and wants us to spend our lives together UGH

-trilogy logan. This man is a mix of desperate sub and mean dom. I want him to fuck me hard into the mattress, hand on my neck- all the while begging me to let him come inside. Telling me im so pretty and he cant hold on much longer. Hes biting your lip, demanding that you cum bc he needs you to so desperately bc he cant finish unless he knows youre taken care of.

-worst logan. I want him to be so rough and mean because he hasnt known a soft touch in ages, only to be so gentle with him and he suddenly melts. Hes slamming into you bc he just has so much anger built in him and then your cradle his face and kiss him softly and he realizes that you really do care, and he slows down, melting into your body as he fucks you hard still, but more lovingly.

-youre wearing a skirt sitting next to logan at a table. He begins to put his hand on your thigh, going on your skirt till he gets to your panties and starts teasing you.

-logan doesnt take baths but then you surprise him with one (youre in it) and suddnely hes asking you everyday if you want to take a bath with him.

-you and logan just fucked and youre getting out of bed to do whatever, and he smacks your ass, a cheeky grin on his face as you yelp and give him a playful scowl

-two can play this game

-next time he gets up, you wind yourself out to smack his butt next, and you do it so hard he actually jumps forward, his hand coming over his cheek where your handprint very quickly faded.

-lets just say youre bent over his lap after that getting punished.

-i said in the fluffy logan scenarios thatll he lay om your titties and ass. Yes.

-hell bite em too

-youre naked on your belly in bed, he comes in and you feel him crawling onto the mattress and then you shout bc you felt his canines sink into your ass cheek, when he then runs his tongue over to soothe it. You glare at him but he doesnt notice bc now hes snuggling his face against your cheek. Does that little head shake to get comfy and content sigh too. What a dork.

-he'll bite your titties too. Its cuteness aggression.

-logan just bites a lot.

-sucking him dry. Like so dry his regenerative factor hasnt kicked in and hes just sprawled out on the bed nearly comatose and you climb up and kiss the tip of his nose and snuggle into his chest.

-once again im imploring you to think about giggly sex with logan. Hes thrusting into you against the wall, and you both cant stay serious, just laughing and moaning into each others mouths. Youre happy. Hes happy.

-awkward things happen in sex sometimes. But you and logan can laugh it off. A quick kiss, and back to it.

-nearly getting caught in the broom closet at the mansion. One of logans moments of grabbing you and yanking you into the most private place nearby. The close call makes you call it off, but he still takes your panties and keep its in his pocket.

-you visting old man logan during his work. You surprise him by requesting his ride. You have very sweet and soft sex in the back, where he praises you being such a sweet girl to him

-logan with his superhero suit i think we all agree drives us insane. The first time you see it on him you practically jump his bones. Hes loves that it drives you so crazy.

-also we talk about him praising us (and believe me as a girly w a praise kink i get it)

-praising HIM. The first time you do it, he becomes so flustered. He gets red in the face, starts stammering on his dirty talk and pretty much cums right then. He gets even more flustered by that but you praise and reassure him that it was SO hot

-youre riding him, the evening sun shining in the window over your figure, and hes looking at you, holding your hips, leading up and down. He looks so lovesick and he tells you how in love with you he is.

-logan has those big puppy eyes. Trilogy logan is super guilty of this. Old man logan is too. It doesnt matter the variant though, they all break out the puppy eyes when they want to fuck you.

-i mean, he definitely got that devilish seductive smile and bedroom eyes that he'll use to seduce you

-but if youre busy or dont seem to pay him enough attention or notice the bedroom eyes, hell break out the puppy eyes and borderline whine for you. (Sometimes you just like to hear him beg. Its all in good fun bc he does it with you too)

-no matter your size, logan definitely loves to pick you up, thrusting into you, hands supporting your ass and hips. Hes like displaying his strength on you. (Esp if youre a bigger girl. He doesnt want you to think he cant fuck you just as hard )

-if youre out in public, in meetings, etc, and logan wants you to know hes feeling mighty attracted to you, his hand will find its way somewhere on yoh (hand, waist, knee) and he'll just rub that spot over and over. Its discreet, but you learn it.

-youre in bed, and he comes home from work/mission/being out and about, he doesnt hesitate, just immediately shedding his clothes as he makes his way to the bed and plants himself firmly between your thighs before he even utters hello. Eating you out is his stress relief.

-having hardcore rough sex, before collapsing on either side of each other, sweating, covered in each others cum, and you both look at each other, and start to smile and laugh. (Yall are so nasty)

-logan getting so giddy when you want to suck his dick like he gets SO excited. Hell def have the dom moments where yknow hes like "cmon baby get working" but then you have those nice moments where hes just a man happy to get a blow

-you convince him to swap underwear. You wear his boxers and he your panties. Hes unsure at first bc it seems embarrassing but then he gets super turned on at wearing your essence around. Sure hes a little uncomfortable bc he cant exactly FIT...but youre happy so.

-(he bends over and you spot the red thong on him and you pull his shirt down before scott notices)

-getting on his knees and pressing kisses to your belly.

-waking up in the morning, having sleepy sex. He sleepily thrusts into you,muttering how good you feel. Eventually you both cum and fall asleep with him still inside.

-he loves fucking you with one of his tshirts on. Loves how it covers your body, just barely hiding the way his dick is burying itself into you over and over

-logan deciding to be super romantic for you one night. He lights candles, rose petals, your favorite wine(or sparkling juice if you dont like alcohol)

-its soft and sensual, his hands touching you, how he thrusts into you. Its almost too much.

-interconnecting hands while fucking, you kiss his knuckles, the space where his claws come out, and he has to regain his composure over it, because youre just so soft and sweet to him. He realizes just how you arent scared of him, how you really accept and love him

"You really do love me... dont ya bub?" He asks, a soft genuine, almost childlike fascination as he looks down at you, and you smile and nod at him, and he moans, before going to work to conpletely wreck you while making plans in the back of his head on how hes gonna keep you happy the rest of your lives...

Thats all for now! Im sure ill come up with more though...😏😏😏

Thank you for reading lovelies!!

#logan howlett #wolverine #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett fanfiction #logan howlett x you #logan howlett fic #wolverine x reader #vans daydreams #logan howlett smut #wolverine smut

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justauthoring · 8 months ago

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SIGNS OF AFFECTION - TOKYO REVENGERS

includes: maniro "mikey" sano, chifuyu matsuno, mitsuya takashi & ken “draken” ryuguji

a/n: bet none of yall were expecting some tokyo rev headcanons tonight (i miss tokyo revengers :()

MIKEY:

physical touch:

Likes to hold your hand; thread his fingers through yours and feel your palm pressed against him. It reassures Mikey that you're still there, with him and by his side. If the two of you are out walking, he'll reach for your hand. If he wants to pull you somewhere to show you something, he'll grab your hand. It helps ground Mikey too, so if you see he's upset or angry, you'll grab his hand and it'll be enough to calm him down.

Always has an arm wrapped around your waist; he thinks his arm fits perfectly slotted against your waist. Likes the way doing so pulls you flush against his side, where he can feel your warmth seep into him. Mikey especially enjoys the way you always lean into the touch, head falling on his shoulder and your own arm occasionally coming to wrap around his waist too. Does it a lot when at school (if he shows up) or at gang meetings to show everyone there you're his.

Constantly asking for hugs; he'll do it in that whiny way he does with Draken or Emma, a certain vulnerability he only shows to certain people. Mikey will open his arms up, the invitation clear and if you don't respond to it right away, he'll pout at you until you do. Usually, that's not a problem though because you love his hugs; like the way he holds you tightly and presses a comforting hand to the back of your head while you thread your fingers through his hair.

CHIFUYU:

quality time:

Plans date nights; he'll always take in consideration on what you want to do, but most of the time, Chifuyu likes to be the one to plan date nights. You have no qualms about it, especially since Chifuyu is a die-hard romantic and is great at planning date nights. He'll make them simple and relaxing or exciting and adventurous depending on either of your moods, and dedicate the entire evening to you and your guys' relationship.

Always asks to study together; even if the two of you aren't in the same class or aren't working on the same subject, Chifuyu will still ask if you guys study together. It can be in the library or in one of your rooms, doesn't matter to im just as long as the two of you are doing it together. It works out too because if you're stuck on something, Chifuyu will push aside what he's doing to help you and you'll do the same for him; studying together is quite effective for the both of you as it eases any stress and gives the comfort of still being able to spend time together.

Likes to cook together; if the opportunity presents itself, which Chifuyu often tries to make sure it does, he'll present the idea to cook together. You'll oblidge, of course, and the two of you work seamlessly together. It's like routine by now that the both of you cook so well together, that it becomes natural to do so.

MITSUYA:

giving gifts:

Makes clothes for you; it's something Mitsuya has done since the start of your relationship, but continuously does and more frequently when he realizes just how much you like it and how much he enjoys the smile on your face when he gives you it. The pride he'll feel is undeniable when you smile at him, tell him how well the clothing fits and how beautiful his work is and the reward of seeing you in his clothing afterwards is more than worth it.

Finds random, small things when shopping and gives it to you; you'll just randomly wake up to a small gift wrapped on your night table with no word from Mitsuya or even a card. It's always random, usually small, like a little figurine or a book and it'll be completely unexpected. When you ask him about it when you see him later that day, Mitsuya will just shrug, say he say you looking at it and decided to get it for you and will blush when smile up at him and thank him with a sweet kiss to the lips.

Gives the best anniversay gifts; no matter how hard you try, Mitsuya's gifts always tops yours. He'll find the most beautiful piece of jewelry or make the most gorgeous, detailed piece of clothing that will literally make your jaw fall to the floor. Mitsuya will do it with a smile and a flush and when you give him your own, the smile widens as if somehow yours is better (it isn't).

DRAKEN:

attention:

Remembers the smallest details; doesn't matter if you said something in passing one day or convinced something heavy and heartfelt, Draken will remember both. He's conscious of the things that bother or upset you, and pays attention to the things that make you happy. He'll offer to watch a movie you randomly said you wanted to watch three weeks ago when you both finally have the time, or buy you a coffee from the out-of-the-away cafe you'd complained about once because he knows you like it so much.

Always makes eye contact; if you're speaking to him, Draken is careful to make sure you know he's listening. The second your lips part and he realizes you're talking to him, he'll shift his entire body if he has to to be able to meet your gaze. It's almost intimidating but endearing at the same time, meeting your eyes when the two of you are naked in bed, in the throes of each other, never wavering and making you feel seen and important.

Drops everything for you; if you're talking, nothing else matters. Draken will quite literally drop everything; a wrench that he's using to work on a car, or a book he's reading, or anything. The second he hears your voice, he's paying full attention to everything that leaves your lips. It warms your heart in an undeniable way, makes you all giddy and flushed when he just smiles at you and encourages you to continue.

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goldfades · 10 months ago

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★ RIZZLER P ─── PB⁵ (part 2/2)

౨ৎ ─ summary | part one -> y/n is a youtuber and on the cancelled podcast, she reveals she has a crush on paige bueckers. y/n gets invited to her first game of the season and they have a lot of fun! part one!!!!!!!!!!!

─ warnings | literally nothing but banter and fun, slight paige slander (but its from kk and ice so its ok), idk what else. oh brooke and tana being protective but its in a sweet way. also i love this mini series i loved it

─ ev's notes | sooo im trying out a semi-new format, lmk if yall like it!!!!!!!

⇨ missing out on updates? check out my wcbb masterlist!

Paige 💕 (paigebueckers) started following you.

Paige 💕 wants to send you a message. Hey, I heard you were into D1 basketball players? 😉

The message stuck out to you, your stomach dropping as you read the message request. You couldn't help but grin as you read her playful message, the nervous energy in your stomach now morphing into a thrilling anticipation. With shaky hands, you tapped on the message request, your heart pounding in your chest.

You couldn't believe Tana's advice had actually worked ─ talking about them on a podcast was the best rizz, apparently.

With trembling hands, you typed out a response, trying to come across confident despite the fluttering of nerves in your stomach.

Y/N 🎀 hi, you saw the episode?

Y/N 🎀 god i'm so embarrassed, sorry if you keep getting bombarded with questions from my fans lol. they mean well i swear 😫

You exited out of Instagram and tapped on iMessage, quickly getting into your group-chat with the girls.

we ❤️ white claws

y/n | GUESS WHO DM'D ME

tana | PAIGE BUECKERS???????

brooke | it better be paige or ur just blue balling us atp

y/n | yes it was paigeeee! *sends screenshot*

brooke | omgggg she's flirting with you!!!!

tana | what did i say bro?? what did i say?????

y/n | tysm tana ur literally the fucking best

As you were typing out your message to the groupchat, your phone buzzed. You looked up at the message, a smile spreading on your lips.

Paige 💕 Haha, yeah, I saw the episode. Don't worry about it, it's all good :)

Paige 💕 And no need to apologize, ur fans are really funny lol

You closed your phone, shutting your eyes as you swallowed a squeal of excitement.

The thrill of talking to Paige was almost overwhelming, but in the best possible way. You'd thought she was attractive since you'd first gotten into basketball back in high school (yes, it was because of your ex but that's besides that point), and it was surreal now that she was not only talking to you ─ she was hitting on you.

──

It had been a few weeks since you'd began talking to Paige and since then, you'd exchanged phone numbers and were talking every single day. She was sending you good morning texts, she made sure to do an fit check every morning, and you found yourself eagerly awaiting each message from her. The thrill of talking to Paige hadn't faded; if anything, it had only intensified as you got to know her better.

However, you knew since the season was beginning she wasn't going to be as free as she was before. You didn't mind, of course ─ you were just happy you were able to talk to her at all. These last couple days had been busy for her and you hadn't been able to talk to her, but this morning you'd gotten something in the mail that you were sure you didn't order.

You ripped it open to reveal Paige's jersey, and it was even signed at the bottom. You couldn't believe it, your heart swelling with warmth at the unexpected gesture from her. Holding the jersey in your hands, you couldn't help but smile at the thoughtfulness behind her gift.

As if on cue, your phone began buzzing in your pocket and you pulled it out. You quickly accepted the Facetime, a grin on your face as you answered.

"Oh my god, you're insane."

"What? You got the jersey?" Paige feigned shock, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she grinned at you through the screen. "I have no idea how that got there."

You chuckled, shaking your head in disbelief. "Yeah, I got it. Thank you so much, Paige. It's... it's amazing."

Paige's smile softened, her eyes warm with affection. "You're welcome. I just wanted to show my appreciation for you, you know?"

You felt a swell of warmth in your chest. "Well, it definitely made my day. Thanks, P. I really mean it."

Paige smirked as she took you in through the Facetime. "So, I guess you'll have to wear it to my games now, right? You can't let this signed jersey go to waste."

"Is that an invitation, P?" You teased, raising an eyebrow playfully as you grinned at Paige through the screen. The idea of attending Paige's games in her signed jersey filled you with excitement, and you couldn't wait to cheer her on from the stands.

Paige chuckled, her smirk widening. "Yeah, you down? You know our first game's on Thursday night, I'll get you floor tickets and everything."

You didn't think she was serious but the more you thought about it, the more you realized she might actually be serious. The excitement bubbled up within you at the thought of attending Paige's game, especially with floor tickets.

"Are you serious?" you asked, a hint of disbelief in your voice.

"Well, uh. I know it's a long flight but I wanna see you. I'll fly you out, I'll show you around and we can spend some time together, and stuff." Paige's usual confident demeanor was replaced with a touch of nervousness, her eyes searching yours for a reaction.

"Paige, are you sure?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. The idea of spending time together in person was both thrilling and nerve-wracking, and you couldn't believe that Paige was offering to fly you out just to see her.

Paige nodded, a shy smile tugging at her lips. "Of course, I would. I mean, if you want to."

"Yeah, of course I would. You're sure?" You spoke softly but earnestly. Flights were expensive, especially when they were as last minute as this.

Paige let out a dramatic sigh as she nodded. "Yes, bro. Yes or no?"

"Yeah, of course. Gosh, so impatient." You teased as Paige laughed through the Facetime.

Paige chuckled, her laughter filling the screen as she rolled her eyes playfully. "Okay, good. Now show me how my jersey looks on you, put it on for me."

You blushed slightly as you nodded, taking the jersey as you walked up the stairs of your house. You couldn't believe it ─ you were flying out to meet Paige in less than a week. You were going to meet Paige Bueckers in less than a week.

──

"Y/N L/N is flying out to see your ass?" KK's voice sounded shocked as sat up on the bed, her eyes wide and her jaw slightly dropped in disbelief.

Paige kept her eyes on her phone as she nodded slowly, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. She tried to keep the whole nonchalant thing going up but her friends could see right through it.

Paige couldn't help but smirk at KK's shocked reaction, though she attempted to maintain an air of nonchalance. "Yeah, she is," she replied casually, her fingers tapping away on her phone.

"She's coming to watch us play, like on Thursday?" KK repeated slowly as she tried to process the information, her eyes still wide with astonishment. "Seriously?"

Paige shrugged, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. "Yeah, seriously. Why is it so hard to believe?"

Ice, who had been lounging next to KK, chimed in with a smile. "Sounds like you're getting serious, P. Bringing her to a game? That's basically a relationship milestone."

Paige rolled her eyes playfully at Ice's comment. "It's not like that, Ice. We're just friends."

"Does she know that? You're such a fuckboy, Paige." Ice rolled her eyes as she exchanged a look with KK.

Paige couldn't help but laugh at Ice's teasing, though she couldn't deny the warmth spreading through her chest at the thought of you. "Trust me, Ice, she knows. And I'm not a fuckboy, I'm just... being a good friend."

KK chuckled, nudging Ice playfully. "Come on, Ice, let's not scare Paige away from the relationship talk."

"Bro, fuck off," Paige groaned as she sighed, leaning back in the gaming chair.

Paige knew she liked you but at this point, she'd only been texting you for a month and before she could be official with you, she'd have to spend time with you in real life. Plus, you lived in California and long distance was not the ideal for her.

"Are we getting those live show tickets or..." KK began as Paige sent her a glare. She put up her hands in defense as Ice let out a small laugh, shaking her head in amusement.

"Don't worry, we can ask her Thursday," Ice teased as she leaned back in the bed, her grin widening.

"Bro, you better leave her alone-"

"Ooo, she's getting possessive already. You have to remember it's Y/N, bro, she's definitely going to have some fans too." KK laughed, joining in on the teasing with a playful smirk.

Paige rolled her eyes at her friends' banter, though she couldn't help but feel a hint of amusement at their antics. "Guys, come on. Let's not make a big deal out of it."

KK chuckled, nudging Ice with her elbow. "Oh, come on, Paige, we'll behave."

"I'll believe it when I see it," Paige retorted as the girls laughed.

──

Y/N 🎀 posted on her story !

You were incredibly nervous and the noise of the crowded stadium didn't do much to calm your already frayed nerves. It was your first time meeting Paige in person, and the anticipation had been building up inside you since the moment you boarded the plane to Connecticut.

The plan was to originally go to a pre-game dinner but it didn't really work out because of the traffic and the hectic schedule leading up to the game. Instead, Paige suggested meeting directly at the stadium, where she would give you a tour and introduce you to some of her teammates before the game started.

As you made your way through the crowds, your heart pounded with nervous excitement. Thoughts raced through your mind, wondering if Paige would like you in person as much as she seemed to over text, if you would have enough to talk about, and if you'd be able to keep your nerves in check. You were a nervous wreck, your stomach twisting in anxiety.

You couldn't help but feel a knot forming in your stomach as you scanned the crowd, searching for Paige among the sea of faces. Suddenly, you spotted her standing near the entrance to the court, her eyes scanning the crowd with a look of concentration. Your breath caught in your throat as you made eye contact, and a wave of relief washed over you.

God, she was even more attractive in real life. Her hair was in her signature braided ponytail and had worn some light make-up, her lashes long and her cheeks pink with blush.

Paige's face lit up with a bright smile as she caught sight of you, and she began weaving her way through the crowd towards you. Your nerves melted away as she drew closer, and before you knew it, her arms wrapped around you in a light embrace.

She was even taller than you expected ─ she practically towered over you, but her embrace felt warm and comforting. As she pulled back, you couldn't help but admire the way her eyes sparkled with excitement as she scanned your outfit.

"You're wearing the jersey!" She exclaimed as her eyes took you in, she had no shame in the fact she was checking you out. You didn't miss the way she bit her lip and how her eyes lingered, your face flushing with warmth at her gaze.

"Yeah, I wanted to show my support," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady despite the fluttering of nerves in your stomach. "Plus, it's pretty comfy."

Paige grinned, her smile widening at your response. "Well, you look amazing in it. Maybe even better than I do," she teased, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

You couldn't help but laugh at her teasing, your blush deepening as you looked up at the taller girl. "You're such a flirt,"

Paige bit her lip as her head fell back as she laughed, her laughter filling the air around you and sending a shiver of excitement down your spine. "Nah, I wasn't even trying that time."

Before you could reply, you felt a tap on your shoulder. You turned around to meet the gazes of two girls and a boy, their expressions nervous and excited. "Oh my god, we are such big fans!"

You smiled instantly as you turned your attention toward them. "Aw, thank you, guys. That means the world, would you like a picture?"

The trio's faces lit up with excitement as they nodded eagerly. "Yes, please!" one of the girls exclaimed, her voice filled with excitement.

"Can she take the picture?" One of the girls asked as she gestured toward Paige. She looked like a deer caught in headlights, her hands in her pockets as she exchanged a glance toward you.

"Uh, sure."

You and the fans gathered closer, posing for the picture as Paige stepped back to frame the shot. With a quick press of the button, the photo was taken, capturing the moment. As the fans thanked you both and walked away, chatting animatedly amongst themselves. You glanced toward the blonde as she began laughing, shaking her head.

"What?" You asked as she drew closer to you.

Paige shrugged. "I just kinda forgot you're like famous, or whatever. It kinda gives me like... an ego boost, not gonna lie."

You couldn't help but laugh at Paige's comment, her candidness adding to the lightheartedness of the moment. "Why?"

"You're like this really pretty girl who's super funny and has like, a whole fanbase. And you flew out to see me, you told everyone on your friend's podcast that you had a crush on me and now you're here, just casually hanging out with me, wearing my jersey like it's no big deal," Paige explained, a playful smirk tugging at her lips.

You laughed at her explanation, feeling a warmth spread through you at her words. "Well, to be fair, you're also this incredible basketball player who's basically taking the WNBA world by storm. And you invited me to your game, so I'd say we're pretty even."

"You're boosting my ego even more though, I hope you know that," Paige replied with a playful grin, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

You chuckled, feeling a sense of ease settle between you. "Just returning the favor," you teased, nudging her playfully.

"Okay, I'ma let me show you around now," Paige grinned as she gestured for you to keep walking. Her hands found your waist and began guiding you through the halls, her touch unexpected but undoubtedly welcome.

You couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement at the contact, her touch sending a jolt of electricity through you. With Paige's arm around your waist, guiding you through the busy stadium corridors, you felt a sense of intimacy that was both thrilling and comforting.

──

As you sat in the stands, surrounded by cheering fans and the energy of the game, your heart raced with excitement. You stole glances at Paige on the court, marveling at her skill and grace as she played. Despite your nerves, you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride knowing that you were there to support her.

She was so attractive (even while running around and sweating), she reminded you how much you loved hoopers. The way she moved, the intensity in her eyes as she focused on the game, it all captivated you. Even in the midst of competition, she exuded a confidence and poise that was undeniably attractive.

Your eyes stayed on her the entire game, not paying much attention to anything else. You were so enamored with Paige that you hardly noticed the passage of time. Every movement she made seemed effortless, every shot she took seemed destined to find the net.

As the game reached its end, with the score neck and neck, Paige seemed to rise to the occasion, her determination shining through in every play. And when she sank the winning shot in the final seconds of the game, the crowd erupted into cheers, the sound reverberating throughout the stadium.

You couldn't help but leap to your feet, cheering along with the rest of the fans as you watched Paige celebrate with her teammates on the court.

As the crowd began to disperse and the energy of the game slowly subsided, you made your way down to the court, eager to congratulate Paige. As you approached her, a wide grin spread across her face, and she pulled you into a tight hug, the euphoria of the win still palpable in the air.

Paige didn't care if people took pictures or if people decided to gossip about it later; all she cared about was you being there in that moment.

"You looked really good out there," the words came out of your mouth before you could really process them. Paige pulled out from the hug with a laugh, her arms still around your shoulders.

"And you looked really sexy in the stands, wearing my jersey." Paige smirked playfully, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she teased you.

"I felt like a NBA trophy wife, I was clapping all cutesy cause I knew people were taking pictures of me," you quipped, feeling a rush of excitement at Paige's playful banter. Her laughter was infectious, and you found yourself grinning in response.

Paige chuckled, giving you a playful nudge with her shoulder. "Well, you definitely looked the part," she teased, her tone affectionate as she leaned in closer to you.

You laughed along with her, feeling a sense of warmth and comfort in her presence. "Guess I'll have to start practicing my trophy wife wave for next time," you replied with a playful wink.

"Ooo, next time? Does that mean you'll visit me again?" Paige teased, raising an eyebrow playfully as she looked at you.

You couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for her at her words. "Of course," you replied, your voice filled with sincerity. "But only if you make me a WNBA wife, P."

She squinted as if she was thinking about it, earning a playful shove from you. "I'm just playing, you're the only girl."

"I'd hope so," you scoffed as you playfully rolled your eyes, unable to hide the smile tugging at your lips.

Paige grinned, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Well, lucky for you, you're my favorite girl," she replied, her tone soft and affectionate.

"So there are other girls?" You teased as she groaned playfully, earning a laugh from you. "I'm just your favorite-"

"That's not what I meant, you're the only one who's wearing my signed jersey, that I sent directly to your house and you're the only one who gets good morning texts and fit checks." Paige countered, her playful smirk widening into a genuine smile.

You couldn't help but laugh at her response, feeling a sense of warmth and happiness fill your chest. "Yeah, I guess you're right," you replied, your tone light and teasing.

Before Paige could reply, she saw Ice and KK approaching from behind you. She sighed as you turned around, meeting their excited gaze.

Paige sighed playfully as she turned to greet Ice and KK, who were clearly eager to join in on the conversation. "Hey, what's up, you two?" she greeted them with a smile, her eyes flickering with amusement.

Ice and KK exchanged a knowing look before KK grinned mischievously. "So, are we interrupting something here?" she teased, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

Paige rolled her eyes, but couldn't hide the smile tugging at her lips. "Y/N, this is KK and Ice. Don't worry about them though, they're just stupid freshman who think they're the shit-"

"Bro, says you!" KK shouted as you laughed, exchanging a smile with Ice.

"I know who you guys are, P talks about you a lot," you said, offering a friendly smile to KK and Ice. "Nice to finally meet you both."

KK's eyes lit up with excitement. "Oh, really? What does she say about us?" she asked eagerly, leaning in closer with a playful grin.

Paige let out a groan, shooting you an amused glance before replying, "Only good things, I promise."

"Yeah, she loves you guys." You smiled as you glanced between Paige, KK, and Ice. "Always talking about your antics and how you keep things interesting."

"She talks about you too, like nonstop." KK began before she earned a shove from a very flustered Paige.

Ice continued, "We thought she was lying until we watched your episode with Tana and Brooke, then we were confused cause you like Paige?"

"Why are you saying it like that? Paige?" Paige mocked Ice, earning a laugh from you and KK.

"Cause Y/N's like a whole baddie, like a 20/20 and you're just like... mid at basketball," Ice explained as Paige sent her a playful glare. "People are gonna be really confused until they see how much you make, then they'll be like ohh,"

"Shut up, bro," Paige replied, but there was a fondness in her tone as she exchanged playful banter with Ice. "It's not about basketball skills, it's about the person."

"Sure, sure," KK chimed in with a grin. "We all know you're a catch, Paige. But hey, if Y/N's into it, who are we to judge?"

You laughed at the girls banter, exchanging a smile with Paige as Ice and KK did the same. "Y/N, we have a question."

"Oh no, bro," Paige groaned as KK nudged her slightly, telling her to be quiet as you nodded, laughing softly.

"Can you get us tickets to Tana and Brooke's shows? Please, we really really wanna go," KK asked, her excitement palpable.

You couldn't help but chuckle at KK's eagerness. "Sure! I'll reach out to them get you guys some," you replied with a smile, already mentally making a note to message Tana and Brooke about it later.

Paige rolled her eyes playfully. "Great, now you're getting my girl to do favors for you," she joked, earning a laugh from both you and KK.

"Your girl?" Ice responded as she raised her brow. "Okay, I see you P, already locking it down."

Paige's cheeks flushed slightly as she playfully nudged Ice. "Shut up, Ice. You know what I mean."

KK leaned in with a mischievous grin. "Oh, we know what you mean, Paige. You're just too scared to admit it."

"Okay, well. Thank you so much, Y/N, you're even more stunning in person. I'll leave you guys to it, now," Ice smirked as she grabbed KK and began walking off the court, toward the team.

Paige let out a sigh before she turned over to meet your eyes, a softness to softness to her expression that made your heart flutter. "Sorry about them, they're like that all the time," she said with a chuckle.

You shook your head with a smile, feeling a sense of contentment settle over you. "No, no, they seem really sweet. They remind me of Tana and Brooke though," you laughed as Paige nodded.

"Uh, sure!" Paige teased as you shook your head in amusement. "I need to go take a shower but um, maybe you can come over?"

Your smile widened at the request as you nodded. "Yeah, sounds like fun."

Again, her hand found the small of your back as she led you toward the team. She was soon reminded of a team celebration they were planning on doing later and the girls insisted on bringing you, she realized that you had become their favorite, too.

But she couldn't blame them, you were perfect.

──

tana mongeau (tanamongeau) started following you. Brooke (brookeschofield) started following you.

tana mongeau wants to send you a message. hurt her and you die, got it blondie ?? not joking btw

Brooke wants to send you a message. Heard you & Y/N had a fun time this weekend! You seem like such a sweet girl, would love to have you on the pod sometime. Promise we'll keep it PG 🤗

Brooke Oh and go huskies!!!! 😁

Paige glanced at her phone with a slight groan, shaking her head. "Oh, you've gotta be kidding me,"

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

978 notes · View notes

stevie-petey · 10 months ago

Text

chapter six: e pluribus unum

“There’s my pretty girl!” Steve giggles, head lolling to the side as he admires you. “Isn’t she the prettiest, Robin?” Robin giggles as well, her face just as bruised and bloodied as his. “So pretty!” “Oh God,” despite their injured state, the two teens are in an unusually good mood. They giggle like school girls, Robin even bats her eyelashes at you. Something is off with them. “How hard did they hit your heads?”

Summary: things get hot and heavy in the face of death, mean russians kidnap your hot almost-boyfriend, you have a philosophical discussion about nerdiness with the kids, acid becomes your new favorite weapon, and steve and robin try drugs together. yippee !

Rating: general, some swearing

Warnings: fem!reader, use of y/n, violence, cursing, blood and mentions of death, use of weapons

Words: 6.7k

Before you swing in: oh BOY do i have a lot to say about this chapter ,,, but for now i will hold off. pls, enjoy her. youve all waited so very patiently for this moment, and im SO excited to see what yall have to say <333

“The gate,” you, Steve, and Dustin breathe out at the same time. You stare at the machine before you; the gravity of the situation settles upon all of you as the machine continues to send pulses of light into the entrance of the Upside Down.

The lights flash, the blue flickers across your face as countless men in lab coats marvel at their creation, and your hands tighten into fists. What they have created will only undo the endless hours you have spent trying to protect everyone, it diminishes every sacrifice that has been made, it taunts the blood that has been spilled.

You hate them, you hate what they have brought back into your life.

“We have to get out of here.” No one argues with you, and quickly you guide everyone downstairs.

“What’s going on?” Robin asks as you gently push her down the stairs, quickening her pace. The urgence of your actions, however, only alert her that something is wrong. “Why do you guys look so scared?”

Days of hiding the truth from her have finally caught up to you, you can feel it, and yet there isn’t anything you can really tell her. Not yet, at least; there isn’t enough time. Hurrying down the stairs, you shake your head at Robin. “It’s a lot to explain.”

“I don’t understand, you’ve seen this before?”

She’s always been too perceptive.

You hate her genius mind.

“Not exactly.” Steve takes over now, trying to help.

Robin’s voice raises, she’s becoming inpatient. “Then what, exactly?”

Two of them argue and Dustin joins in, though you ignore them and reach the last step to start looking for any possible weapons in the room. If you guys have even the slightest chance of making it out of here alive, then you’ll need more than your switchblade and Steve’s surprising new combat skills.

As your eyes scan the room, you realize, too late, that the Russian guard Steve had knocked out only minutes ago is now gone. Horrified, you frantically whip your head to find him, but the man is gone.

Wonderful.

Erica notices this too. “Um, Steve? Where’s your Russian friend?”

With impeccable comedic timing, lights begin to flicker above you as an alarm sounds. Seems the Russian guard snitched, then.

“Oh, shit!” Your switchblade finds its way into your hand. This just keeps getting worse and worse.

Steve curses as well and sprints to the door to open it, trying to find another way out, but instead he finds a swarm of guards all staring back at him. Cursing again, he slams the door shut. He doesn’t have to say anything, you know by the look on his face that you’re in deep shit. “Go, go, go!”

Blindly you shove Dustin and Erica into the nearest door, tugging at Robin, and Steve takes the rear as the group starts to run. Your senses are in overdrive, your head swims with anxiety and your eyes flicker to any possible way out. Your legs ache with exertion, but you have no fucking idea where you are.

You make a sharp right and open a random door, but almost immediately you stumble to a halt when you see that it’s the room to the goddamn machine opening the Upside Down. Of course this is the room you chose. The scientists all stare at you, and you really wish you had stayed in bed yesterday. “Fuck!”

“Go, Y/N!” Dustin yanks on your arm and goes left, finding stairs to run down.

You risk a quick look over your shoulder and your heart drops when you see that the Russian guards are close behind. “We got company!” You’re on the landing platform now, too close to the machine and the gate for your own comfort. Dustin screeches as he shoves a Russian against the railing. You wince, feeling bad despite the horrible circumstances. “Sorry!”

“Why are you apologizing to the Russians–holy shit–” Gripping the back of your brother’s shirt, you save him from face planting into the giant laser beam. “Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit!”

Steve and the others have joined now, and you realize how helplessly cornered the five of you are. You’re standing on the edge of the platform and the laser’s heat can be felt even six feet away while twenty armed Russian soldiers approach from behind.

Defeated, helpless, terrified, you turn to the person whose hand rests gently on the small of your back; the only person who gives you solace. “Steve.”

It’s all you can say, your knees feel weak and your body turns to his, helpless. You don’t know what else to do. Steve’s eyes find yours, he can feel Dustin looking to him for help as well. Robin, Erica. Everyone is looking to him, and yet he’s just as terrified.

“This way!” He doesn’t know where he’s going, he just knows that he has to protect you. Running back down the stairs, he shoves a guard that blocks the path and you’re right behind him, pushing barrels at more guards that round the corner so that no one else can follow.

“Go!” You wave the others ahead, now taking the rear with Steve. The two of you do whatever you can to slow the Russians down as Robin leads the kids towards another door. You’re all blindly running through the endless walls of the facility.

The door flies open and everyone rushes into the room.

Everything happens quickly after that.

Steve slams the door while you hold the kids behind you, away from the door and fearful of the bullets that may rain through it. Steve braces his back against the door. The Russians pound the frame from the other side.

Madly looking around for any sign of an exit, your body fills with unbearable dread when you realize that you’ve locked yourselves in a room without any way out.

Dustin’s scared hand grips at your arm. He seems to realize what you already have. “Shit!”

“Robin!” Steve calls out to her, desperate. He’s rapidly losing his footing to hold his position as the guards’ fists rage a relentless war. “Help me, come on!”

She runs to him and throws her back against the door as well, and the distress in Steve’s voice only hastens you as you run around the room. There has to be a way out. You refuse to die like this, far below Hawkins and the sunlight you’ve come to love within the small town.

Breath quickening, you rush up the steps within the room and drag Dustin along with you. Robin’s face is red now, Steve’s feet keep slipping, and from the force of which the door they hold thuds, you know the guards have started to throw their own bodies against it.

Something creeks below your foot. You look down and inexplicably hope jumps into your chest. There’s a vent grate, this entire underground facility is full of air ducts, it’s how you got into this entire fucking mess in the first place. “Here! I found something!”

Erica joins you and Dustin and quickly the three of you pry the vent open. You help Erica lower herself inside, instructing her to start crawling, now, when Dustin shouts down to Robin and Steve. “Come on!”

“Go! Just get out of here!” Steve screams back, groaning as the pounding on the door becomes more and more violent.

Your hand, which had been on your brother’s back, ready to help him inside the air duct next, stills. Your entire body freezes as you look over at Steve, ice cold fear crawls up your neck; doubt creeps in as you realize, far too late, that there isn’t enough time for them to escape into the vent.

There never seems to be enough time.

But you have to try anyway. All you ever do is try, you will die trying, you just can’t let it be in vain. “Steve, Robin, let’s go!”

Steve clenches his teeth as another body throws itself against the door. Through his exertion he can see how pale you are now, the realization that dawns on you that you will have to leave him behind, and Steve wishes he could kiss the despair off of your pretty face. “No! Just go and get some help, okay?”

“I–I can’t–” Dustin tugs at your shirt to come with him, but your body is unmoving. You can’t, you won’t leave them behind, Steve’s biceps strain against the doorframe and Robin groans in pain, and yet your brother’s fearful grip on you reminds you of your responsibility to him as well. To protect him, to get Erica home, be with them.

But Steve is in danger. He needs you.

You don’t know what to do.

“Y/N!” Dustin calls after you as you tear yourself away from him.

Blindly, as your vision darkens and the terror in your body threatens to consume you, you stumble down the steps towards Steve. You need to be close to him, it’s all your mind and body can register as the roaring in your head nearly deafens you.

As soon as you’re in front of him, grasping at his shoulders to try and take him with you, Steve pushes you away. “Y/N, you need to leave–”

“I’m not leaving you!” The shrillness scares even yourself, the sheer desperation to stay with Steve comes deep from within your chest as you scream at him. You’re panicking now, angry at him for even considering the idea that you’d ever leave him. As if you haven’t just gotten him back.

You’re never letting go of him now that you have him.

Not again.

Robin tries to reason with you herself, distantly you think she pleads with you, but your vision tunnels and all you can see is Steve. Your body hums with the need for his.

“Y/N, listen to me,” Another thud against the door, Robin’s foot slips, and Steve has to throw his head back and brace for yet another impact. He’s angry at you, too. For not listening to him. For how you’ve always blindly sacrificed yourself, harmed yourself to protect others.

Steve won’t let you hurt yourself anymore, not when he can save you.

Not again.

“The kids need you–”

“I need you!” Tears wet your face now, you’re clutching at Steve’s shirt as Dustin continues to scream at you to run, to not abandon him, and it feels as if you can’t breathe as words begin to tumble from your mouth with hysteria. “We–we can run, right now! You’re fast, and–and Robin can jump and–”

Steve’s lips crash against yours.

He’s weak and scared and helpless; this is the only way he knows how to get you to listen.

You breathe in sharply as his lips move against yours, you melt into him. He pours everything into the kiss, your teeth knock against his and your hands find his hair, tugging at it as Steve tries to convey everything that time won’t allow him to.

The kiss is rushed, it’s messy and it’s aching, and through it Steve begs you. To love him despite the fact that he has to leave you, that he’s doing this for you, he begs you to remember him, and selfishly he kisses you because he doesn’t want to die knowing he’s wasted half the damn summer without ever knowing how your lips felt against his.

It isn’t death that terrifies Steve, it’s the idea that he almost died without knowing how you tasted.

When Steve finally pulls away, you’re too shocked to move. His lips are tinged pink and his brown eyes are dark in the lighting and you’re both breathless. Your hands remain in his hair, all you can register is how the strands feel between your fingers and that Dustin is now at your side, yanking at your arm to follow him back towards the vent.

Numbly you allow Steve’s hands to help Dustin move your limp body, your feet rise to reach the steps. The warmth of Steve’s body is gone now. Faintly you feel your brother’s firm, but gentle, hands as he shoves you inside the vent.

There’s a tugging within your chest suddenly, an overwhelming sensation to turn around, and abruptly you come back to yourself. The roaring in your head quiets for only a moment, the lights are bright and Dustin’s fingers dig into your skin, yet still your eyes find Steve.

He’s far below you now, the Russians have almost broken through the door, and his kiss still sears your lips. Urgently, viciously, you scream the only thing you can think of that encompasses all the love and terror within you, “Come home to me!”

Steve opens his mouth to promise you that he will, he always will. You can hear the promise even before he’s said it, but the doors burst open and Dustin slams the vent’s grate down.

You ran out of time.

The echo of the grate’s slam rings in your ears.

–

Erica is the one that guides you through the air ducts.

You haven’t said anything since leaving Steve and Robin behind; it’s been hours now, and yet still you do not speak.

Dustin crawls behind you, worried. He watches your body shake slightly as you crawl through the narrow space. His stomach lurches when he notices how white your knuckles have become from how tightly you clench your fists.

You’re clinging onto what little resolve you have left, it’s evident to Dustin, and he worries about when, not if, you’ll finally snap. He knows that now isn’t the right time to initiate a code blue, but he’s concerned seeing you so broken. He hates that he can’t do anything, that he dragged you away from the others.

The air inside the ducts is warm, almost nauseatingly so, and the ringing in your ears has yet to fade. Steve’s kiss still burns your lips. His promise to you, that he would return and come back home to you, the promise that he couldn’t make, drowns out all of your other thoughts.

Come home to me.

He hadn’t had time to answer you.

The thought nauseates you more than the sickening heat that surrounds you. You left him. Robin, too.

You left them both behind, just like you left Will behind the night the Demogorgon got him. And the kids, that night when you abandoned them at the middle school and left them vulnerable to that fucking monster. And Jonathan, when he thought his brother had died and you were too lost in your self pity when he needed you the most.

Now, after promising Steve you’d stay, sworn in the passenger seat of his car as the snow fell around you both, you’ve left him once more.

Take all the time you need, I’ll be here.

The promises you’ve made burn so deeply that a wince escapes your lips, and Dustin quietly asks if you’re okay.

“‘M fine,” you manage to rasp out, crawling forward despite the tormented tugging that begs you to turn around.

You hear Dustin’s lips part, he doesn’t believe you and wants to argue, but you keep your head turned away from him and he instead settles on sighing. You’re not ready to talk about it, not yet. Not now, not when you feel as if you’ve lost a piece of yourself.

Erica turns a corner and starts to slow down. “Fans up ahead.”

“Great,” Dustin groans when he sees the giant blades spinning, blocking the way forward. “Think we could time it right and jump through them?”

“If you wanna lose a head, sure.” Erica snorts, unpleased with the risky idea. “Don’t you have tools in those lame ass cargo shorts you’re wearing?”

“My cargo shorts aren’t lame…”

You sit quietly as Dustin and Erica try and figure out what to do. You’re still in shock, you can’t gather the energy to try and help them. It’s like a switch has been flipped inside of you, deactivating your ability to do anything other than be plagued with the crippling sensation of loss.

Eventually Erica convinces Dustin to try and break into the control panel next to the fans and shut them down manually. He pulls a screwdriver from one of his pockets (to Erica’s utter amusement), and starts unscrewing the bolts. Through it all, you remain quiet, and when Dustin looks over at you, he finds you staring blankly at the walls with an almost lifeless gaze.

He sighs. Needing to distract himself, Dustin figures now is as good a time as any to explain everything to Erica. The Russians, why they’re here, why you’ve almost lost your mind trying to protect everyone. “It all started the night Will disappeared, two years ago.”

Dustin explains the Upside Down, the Demogorgon and how it was able to travel to their world through a gate El had accidentally opened with her powers, and now how the Russians have somehow found this gate and are attempting to reopen it.

Erica, to her credit, listens. She doesn’t question a thing, and Dustin is surprised by her lack of sarcastic input, but when he finishes explaining everything, the girl only has doubts about one thing: Lucas being involved.

“Wait, so you believe everything about El and the gate, and the Demodogs and the Mind Flayer, but you question your brother’s involvement?” Dustin asks the girl, in disbelief of how her mind works.

“That’s correct.”

Then, surprising them both, you finally speak. “Lucas is brave, Erica. He’s done a lot for the party.”

Erica’s stony expression softens slightly, her usual argumentative demeanor backs down. “Yeah, well. Whatever. You’re damn lucky it’s your birthday and I feel bad for you.”

It’s not much, but you know that she’s spared you her malice. For once you accept the sympathy, even if your luck has run out hours ago when Steve kissed you and then tore you apart. “Lucky,” you snort. “Yeah.”

Dustin and Erica look at one another wearily, though you pretend you don’t see it. After a few heartbeats, your brother clears his throat and goes back to unscrewing the control panel.

“Um, you need help with that?” Erica asks the boy, doubtful of his capabilities. When Dustin tells her no, she doubles down. “I mean, it’s taking a while, so–”

Dustin huffs at her. “Yeah, no shit, Sherlock.”

“Don’t cuss at her.” You butt in, but Erica has already started back with her arguing.

She claims that at the slow pace you’re going, Steve and Robin stand no chance, and her words make the nausea claw up your throat. Dustin notices the way you clutch at your stomach and he quickly tries to reason with Erica, maybe say that she’s wrong, but the girl only continues to talk.

“I mean, we’ve made it about point-three miles in nine hours.” Erica looks down at her watch as she speaks, but her eyes almost swim with the numbers you assume she envisions in her mind. “Then we had to walk three hours down that tunnel, so I’d estimate ten miles back to the elevator, which should take us approximately twelve and a half days.”

You and Dustin look at each other, baffled. No way Erica managed to come up with those numbers all on her own. Sure, you’ve always secretly suspected that she was more intelligent than she let on, but Jesus. You can hardly remember the multiples of seven on a good day.

“Did you just do all of that in your head?” Dustin asks her, eyes wide with astonishment.

Erica shrugs. “I’m good with numbers.”

“That’s an understatement,” you mumble under your breath, though you’re starting to feel more like yourself again. Dustin calls Erica a nerd, which she adamantly denies, and the light hearted conversation almost seems to draw you out of your state of shock, albeit slowly.

Your brother lists off all the proof he has of Erica’s “nerdiness” and you listen, chuckling. The genuine offense on the girl’s face is hard not to laugh at, and when Dustin sees that it seems to be cheering you up, he doubles down on his efforts.

“Fact number three: you love My Little Pony.” He holds up Erica’s backpack that has two ponies printed across it, which you snort at.

Erica crosses her arms defensively. “And what does My Little Pony have to do with this?”

“Let’s recall the ponies’ latest adventure, shall we?” Dustin clears his throat and begins retelling the tales of the ponies, and you cannot believe that your fourteen year old brother still watches the show and pays enough attention to understand its themes and narrative. “Ergo, My Little Pony is nerdy. Ergo, you, Erica, are a nerd.”

“Not to take sides,” you poke your head between the two kids. “But why do you know so much about the show, Dustin?”

“Because I’m a nerd.” He manages to get the control panel open and rips the wires out of it. Electric sparks fly as they disconnect and the fans behind you slowly come to a stop. “Now, let’s go, nerds.”

Erica glares at him before turning to you. “Do you watch My Little Pony, Y/N?”

You shake your head. “No, I’m not that pathetic. I read comics instead, like the mature seventeen year old I am.”

The girl rolls her eyes at you, entirely over you and your brother, and starts crawling through the air ducts once more. As she leaves, Dustin stays behind. “Hey,”

His hand wraps around your arm and stops you from following Erica. You pause, confused as to what he may want. “Yeah?”

“Are you okay?” In the lighting, for just a moment, Dustin looks up at you and he’s the nine year old little boy who once feared you would get lost in your mother’s grief and father’s anger.

The last icy tendrils of shock melt, you come back to yourself when you hear your little brother’s fear for his sister. Taking Dustin’s hand into yours, you squeeze it. “Of course I’m okay. I have you.”

Dustin laughs softly, relief evident within his exhale, and you yank his hat off of his head to break the remaining tension away. He lunges for it, betrayed, though he laughs again anyways, and for a few seconds it’s just the two of you giggling to yourselves as you fight over the hat.

“Are you two shitbirds coming, or do I gotta kill those Commies on my own?” Erica shouts, now on the other side of the air duct.

With one last tug, Dustin tears the hat from your grasp and sticks his tongue out at you. “Last one to Erica owes the other $5!” He starts speed crawling towards the girl, giving you absolutely no chance of winning, and you hang your head in defeat and sigh.

The fucker owes you so much money already.

–

It takes hours.

Back aching and knees bruised, you crawl behind the kids in the seemingly endless maze that resides in the facility’s air ducts. It’s similar to the tunnels you walked through what feels like years ago originally, with Steve holding your hand through it all, though you know it couldn’t have been less than a day ago now.

The entire time, your mind doesn’t once quiet its concern for Steve and Robin. Just when the pounding in your head becomes splitting, Dustin stops you and Erica.

“Y/N, help me remove the vent.”

“Why, what’s up there?” You’re next to him, squinting through the grate’s small holes. All you see are what appear to be a line of vaults, though it’s hard to tell. “I don’t see anyone.”

Dustin starts prying at the vent. “Exactly, there’s no one up there and look, can’t you see it?”

You squint again, getting even closer to the holes to peer inside. Something glows bright green on one of the vault’s shelfs. “Is that…?”

“Uh huh. Now help me, will you?”

It takes a minute or so before you’re able to pry the vent open. Together, the two of you slowly lift your heads through the opening and look around. The room you’ve ended up in is empty. Along its walls are rows of vaults with multiple vials of the green chemicals you found in the elevator.

You’re not entirely sure what your brother has in mind, but you know it can’t be anything good.

“Jackpot!” Dustin breathes out with newfound exhilaration. He climbs out of the air duct first and eagerly starts looking around while you help Erica out.

The two kids look around in amazement, but you survey the area out of habit. It’s too quiet within the room. Being so close to the chemicals again leaves you on edge. “Stay close to me, we don’t know who could be nearby–”

“Oh!” Dustin abandons your caution in a heartbeat. He starts running down the steps, and when you see what’s gotten him so excited, you follow after him. There’s a cart right at the bottom of the stairs, parked to the side without anyone in it.

It could be your ticket out of here, if you’re lucky.

“Do you even know how to drive?” Erica teases Dustin, but you step past her and join him to inspect the vehicle.

He waves an indifferent hand at her. “How hard can it be? Max did it.”

“That was the worst car ride of my life” You shiver at the memory. The taste of blood fills your mouth and you can almost feel the bruises again. Shaking your head, you force yourself to focus. “Think you could hotwire this?”

Dustin furrows his brows and ducks his head under the wheel. He shuffles around, mumbling to himself, before he curses. “No, it’s one of those fancy, expensive carts. Which is goddamn ironic for people who hate wealth. We need a key.”

“Okay, that’s not how Communism necessarily works–”

“Did you two seriously think they’d leave keys in there?” Erica interrupts you, cutting straight to the point as she always does.

Dustin starts digging around the cart now. He checks the mirror compartment, under the seat, wherever his hands can reach. “There’s gotta be a spare…” When he comes up with nothing, he shoves you out of the cart. “Go and look inside the vault room.”

“A ‘please’ wouldn’t hurt.” Though you do as you’re told, trusting that the room is secure enough to leave him and Erica alone for a few minutes as you look.

There are vials everywhere, but no signs of a spare key. You wander the rows, the green liquid glows ominously. Drawing your face closer to one of the vials, the liquid bubbles in its glass container. This small, inconspicuous vial is what melted cement back at the elevator.

An idea comes to you.

“Dustin,” you call over your shoulder, eyes still on the chemical. “What if we grabbed some of these vials and used them as some kind of weapon? I mean, it’s some pretty powerful stuff.” No one responds, which you frown at. It’s then that you realize it’s become suspiciously quiet, and with your heartbeat in your throat, you run back towards the kids.

You find Dustin with spare keys in his hand, a proud smile on his face. “Found ‘em.”

“I’m going to start making you pay me every time you give me a goddamn heart attack.” A hand rests against your chest as you try to lower your heart rate. “I mean, this just can’t be good for me–”

A loud, spine tingling crack of electricity zaps behind you.

Screaming, you jump at the noise and into Dustin’s side. You both turn around, coming face to face with a giant electric prod held by a smiling Erica.

“What the hell is that?” Dustin shouts at her, fear still in his voice.

“A deadly weapon.” She zaps it again and the sound is deafening. “Could be useful.”

Both hands on your chest now, you hunch over and try to not to have a heart attack right then and there. “You kids are going to kill me one day.” You swallow, take a deep breath. “God, why can’t we stick with knives? They’re quiet, quaint. Not at all terrifying.”

“Knives against Commies? I thought you wanted to save your boyfriend, Y/N.” Erica swings the prod as she speaks and you hold your hands up.

“Let’s not swing that around, okay? The last thing I need today is to be electrocuted by that thing.” When she lowers the prod, you continue. “But… you should keep it. It’ll be useful for saving Steve and Robin.”

Dustin steps in front of you. “Wait a minute, aren’t you always lecturing me about being realistic? We don’t even know where they are.”

“And aren’t you always lecturing me about putting the party first?” You can’t believe that Dustin isn’t tearing the place apart to find Steve. “We can’t just leave them here. No way you think I’d let you do that.”

“But there are a million guards up there with weapons way deadlier than that!” He points at Erica’s electric prod. He starts walking towards the cart, keys in hand, and beckons you to get inside it as well. “Admit it, the best thing we can do for them is get out of here and find help. Our chance of surviving, and theirs, rises substantially.”

“No.” You don’t step foot in the cart.

“Just trust me on this.” Dustin tries to get you into the cart, but you plant your feet on the ground and refuse to move. “Y/N, please don’t be difficult right now.”

“I said no.” Your voice hardens. Dustin has never been one to back away from a challenge, and yet here he is. Accepting defeat and leaving Steve and Robin to suffer the consequences of it. You’ve always been the first to stand behind realism, to denounce insane ideas and stunts that the party always manages to get itself into, but this time it’s different.

Somewhere within these walls, your friends are facing unimaginable terrors. They sacrificed themselves to save you and the kids. Once again, Steve Harrington has saved your life.

And you’ve always evened out your debts to him.

“We’re going to look for them.” You walk back into the vault room and start grabbing vial after vial of chemicals. There’s an air of authority in your demeanor, daring the kids to argue with you. You’re taking control now after being numb for so long. Dustin follows you, tries to argue, but you continue grabbing vials from the shelves as a plan forms in your head. “We are going to grab as many of these as we can, load them up into the cart, and then drive around this shithole until we find our friends.”

You shove the vials into Dustin’s arms. He blinks at you, this is the most clear headed he’s seen you since descending down in the elevator. Marching back towards the cart, you place your own vials down. “Then, we are going to use whatever chemical this is to cause a distraction. We’ll melt something, maybe cause a fire. I don’t give a shit what we do. All I know is that we are going to then save our friends and get the fuck out of this hellscape. Do I make myself clear?”

Dustin and Erica stare at you, jaws slacked, both now sitting in the cart. Taking their silence as a yes, you nod, pleased. “Fantastic. Now, my dear brother, start driving or I will. Either way: we’re leaving.”

He gulps and tightens his hands on the steering wheel. When you’ve settled into the back of the vehicle, he starts the cart. “Let’s go, then.”

As Dustin drives, Erica twists in her seat to look at you. She’s impressed, albeit still slightly terrified. “Have you always been so scary?”

“Yes. I just hide it well. Makes it more useful when I need it.”

–

You’ve just finished counting the vials when Erica seems to decide now is an appropriate time to ask invasive questions.

“So what do you see in that hair guy?”

“You mean Steve?” Although, you suppose that hair guy is a pretty good indicator for him.

Erica nods. “Yeah, I just don’t understand how someone like him could impress you. He wears a sailor’s uniform and flings ice cream all day long.”

You’re oddly touched by this, though her description of Steve makes you sad. He’s so much more than just some guy who scoops ice cream. He’s brave, selfless, sensitive, and kind. “Don’t give me too much credit. There’s a lot you don’t know about Steve.”

She makes a disgusted face. “Yuck. It sounds like you love the guy.”

Dustin cringes and looks disgusted as well. He doesn’t want to hear his sister waxing and waning about his friend. “Can we not talk about that right now?”

Erica pinches his side, causing him to nearly crash the cart into the wall. “I’m an inquisitive person and clearly they’re in love. Y/N almost bit your head off when you suggested abandoning him.”

“Okay, I didn’t suggest abandoning him.”

“It’s just the facts!”

They argue, forgetting that you’re there. However, you need the distraction, and talking about Steve has always made you feel braver than you really are. A smile spreads across your face when you think about him. The words spill from your mouth without any effort. “I do love Steve.”

Dustin’s arguing fades away. His eyes meet yours in the cart’s rearview mirror. He already knew that you loved Steve, but to hear you say it, to see the blush that invades your face whenever you talk about him, it makes everything more real. Guilt washes over him. He wanted you to leave the boy you love behind.

“Look,” Dustin sighs. He needs to get this off of his chest. “I’m sorry about telling you to leave Steve and–”

A scream echoes within the hall. It’s feminine, familiar.

“Robin,” your stomach twists. She’s alive. And close. She has to be close if you can hear her screams. You grab Dustin’s shoulder. “Go!”

He slams on the gas and the cart picks up speed. Rounding the corner, he brakes harshly and you’re in yet another hallways. It’s silent, there isn’t anyone there. You close your eyes, you’re close. You can feel it, but you can’t locate them if you don’t know where they are.

“C’mon, Robin, “ you plead. “Help us find you.”

Another scream, this time it sounds even closer.

“That way!” Erica points left, and there’s no time to doubt if she’s right. The three of you jump out the cart and grab the chemicals. Dustin also grabs the electric prod, and then you all start running.

Robin screams again, and this time you can place which door it comes from. Adrenaline rushes through you. You have to work fast. At the end of the hall you see what looks to be an alarm switch on the wall. It wasn’t a part of your plan earlier, but it’ll have to do.

“Erica, go to the switch down there. When I say go, you press it. Alright?” She nods at you, quickening her pace. You turn to Dustin next, grabbing the vials from him. “Get the prod ready. I’ll throw the vials.”

When you get to the door that separates you from Robin, you press your ear against it. Voices are muffled, but still Steve's voice comes through as well. Your heart jumps. He’s with her. He’s alive as well.

Erica stands at the end of the hall and you hold your palm up, signaling her to wait. Looking at Dustin, he nods at you and holds the prod to his chest. Taking a deep breath, you start throwing the vials harshly against the floor.

You use all the anger within you to guide what little strength you have left. The anger drives you, it propels the vials, it shatters them. The chemicals spill everywhere. The cement floor begins to erode away, sizzling. After you’ve thrown your last one, you shout to Erica, “Now!”

Alarms sound overhead. Erica runs back towards you and you shove the kids behind a barrel. Within seconds the hallway fills with Russian guards and they swarm around the melted floor, but you keep your eyes on the door. Silently you beg for your plan to work. The door has to open, whoever is inside has to come and investigate the damage you’ve caused.

An agonizing three seconds pass. Sweat drips down your face. Then, a man comes crashing out of the door. He marches down the hallway and disappears when he turns the corner. As soon as he’s gone, Dustin slams through the door. There’s a man dressed in doctor’s scrubs within the room, but your brother attacks him with the prod and knocks him out quickly.

Erica and Dustin stand over the unconscious man. They’re surprised the plan has worked. Yet all you see is Steve.

Everything else fades away. He’s tied to a chair, his face is bleeding. You run towards him, uncaring about whatever else may be in the room. A whole fucking army of Russians could be standing next to you right now and you still wouldn’t spare them a single glance.

“Oh, honey.” The sentiment drips from your lips as your knife cuts through the rope that binds him. You’re so fucking relieved that he’s okay, that Robin is as well. But there’s so much blood. In your periphery you see a tray with a bone saw on it.

“There’s my pretty girl!” Steve giggles, head lolling to the side as he admires you. “Isn’t she the prettiest, Robin?”

Robin giggles as well, her face just as bruised and bloodied as his. “So pretty!”

“Oh God,” despite their injured state, the two teens are in an unusually good mood. They giggle like school girls, Robin even bats her eyelashes at you. Something is off with them. “How hard did they hit your heads?”

Dustin starts to help you untie Steve. “Get ready to run.” He instructs them with a firm voice. However, Robin and Steve continue to laugh. As if this is all one big joke to them.

They almost seem… drunk.

But there isn’t time to ask any questions. Any minute now the guards will return. You cut the last rope that’s tied around Robin and ask Erica if she can carry her. They’re too loopy to walk straight, you’ll need to help Dustin carry Steve back to the cart.

It takes a lot of yelling, slapping Steve’s hand away from your face as you struggle to drag his limp body to the cart, more bribes for Robin than you ever would’ve imagined, but miraculously you get the two idiots into the cart parked outside.

As soon as they’re secured in the back with you, Dustin steps on the gas and you leave the Russians behind.

“Tried promising you I’d come home, angel.” Steve is sprawled on your lap. His eyes are cloudy, he isn’t quite here with you.

“You didn’t have to say anything. I knew you’d promise me.” You reassure him. Carefully, you brush hair out of his face and you inspect his wounds. The cuts don’t look too deep, but you’re worried he might have yet another concussion. Thankfully, however, the blood has already started to scab over. The worst of it is over, and yet your heart still constricts when you remember that he’s injured because of you. “My poor, sweet honey.”

Steve closes his eyes and hums with content. “I love it when you call me honey.” He rolls onto his side now and nuzzles his bloodied face into your stomach. “Makes me feel special.”

Your fingers find his hair, careful to avoid any bumps and heart swelling at what he’s said. Clearing your throat, you look to Robin who is on your other side. You start checking her over as well. She isn’t as battered as Steve is, though a bruise is forming on her cheek.

When she sees you looking at her, she winks. “I lived!”

“You did,” you squeeze her hand and her head falls against your shoulder. She lets out her own content sigh, and you play with her hair as well. They’re still with you. Still whole and alive.

With Steve and Robin safely wrapped around you, you can finally rest.

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