#it’s really not better!!!! it’s really not!!!!!!!!!!!!!! thanks!!!!!!

[scyphers]

[ID: three photos of Belphegor the devon rex cat. In the first two he sits next to different people, clearly interested. In the third, he's sitting in someones lap like they're a chair. His back legs are sticking out while the human gently holds his torso.]

Belphie is like......ludicrously social. he always targets whoever is newest, and cuddles up to them

[little-jana]

"Good Girl"

Pairing: postprison!Spencer Reid x reader

Genre: steamy, 18+, fluff, no smut

Warnings: kissing, Spencer calling reader a good girl

Words: 3.4k

Summary: Spencer giving Reader a lot of compliments and one of them makes her blush a lot.

Spencer had been different since prison. Not entirely in ways the team would notice—he still rattled off statistics, quoted obscure literature, and beat everyone at chess. But when you’d known someone as deeply as I knew Spencer, even subtle shifts felt monumental. He was sharper now, his edges honed by experiences no one should have endured. But when it was just the two of us, in those quiet, stolen moments, he softened.

That’s why I stayed by his side tonight instead of joining the team for drinks. Spencer had waved off the invitation, saying he needed a quiet night, and when I hesitated to leave him alone, he’d asked me to stay. It wasn’t much—a shared meal and a chess game in his small apartment—but to me, it felt like everything.

“I can’t tell if you’re planning your next move or plotting my demise,” Spencer said, leaning back in his chair as he watched me.

“I can do both,” I said lightly, though the truth was, I’d been staring at the board for so long because I had no idea what to do.

He smirked, tilting his head slightly. “You’re stalling.”

“I’m thinking,” I corrected.

“You’ve been ‘thinking’ for six minutes and thirty-two seconds.”

“Are you timing me?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No, but I glanced at the clock when you stopped moving your hand after your last turn.”

“Of course you did,” I muttered, my eyes flicking back to the board. “Not all of us have an IQ of 187, you know.”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. The soft light from the lamp behind him highlighted the sharp planes of his face, and for a second, I forgot what we were talking about.

“You’re better than you think,” he said, his voice low.

“Better at chess, or better in general?” I quipped, trying to deflect the heat rising in my cheeks.

Spencer didn’t answer right away. Instead, he studied me, his hazel eyes unblinking and intent.

“Both,” he said simply.

My heart skipped a beat, but I forced myself to focus. This was just Spencer being Spencer—kind and honest to a fault. It didn’t mean anything. Not really.

Finally, I made a move, sliding my bishop into place. I looked up at him triumphantly. “Your turn, genius.”

Spencer’s eyes flicked to the board, and he moved his queen with a casual grace that made my stomach sink. “Checkmate,” he said softly.

“What?” I leaned forward, scanning the board. He was right. Of course he was right.

“How?” I groaned, sitting back in my chair. “I was so careful!”

“That was a good game,” he said, his tone genuine. “You lasted longer than usual.”

I rolled my eyes. “Gee, thanks.”

“No, really,” he insisted. “Your defense has improved. That last move was smart.”

“Then how did I still lose?”

His lips quirked into a smile. “Because I’ve been playing chess since I was four, and you’ve only been playing for—”

“Three months,” I finished for him.

“Exactly,” he said, his smile widening. “But you’re learning fast. Good girl.”

The words hit me like a freight train. My cheeks burned, and I ducked my head, pretending to fiddle with the edge of the table.

“Something wrong?” Spencer asked, his voice tinged with concern.

“No,” I said quickly, my voice higher than usual. “I’m fine.”

“You’re blushing,” he observed, tilting his head.

“I’m not,” I lied, even though I could feel the heat spreading down my neck.

His lips twitched, like he was fighting a smile. “You’re a terrible liar.”

“I’m not lying,” I said weakly, avoiding his gaze.

“Hmm,” he hummed, his tone teasing now.

Desperate to change the subject, I stood and grabbed the empty takeout containers from the coffee table. “I’m going to clean this up.”

Spencer followed me into the kitchen, leaning against the counter as I tossed the containers into the trash. His presence was a tangible thing, and I could feel his eyes on me as I wiped down the counter.

“Good,” he said softly.

I turned to face him, confused. “Good what?”

“Good technique,” he said, nodding toward the counter.

My cheeks flamed again. “Are you just saying that to mess with me?”

“No,” he said, his expression softening. “I mean it. You’re good at a lot of things, but you never give yourself credit.”

I swallowed hard, my heart pounding in my chest. “I think you’re overestimating me,” I said quietly.

Spencer stepped closer, his gaze never leaving mine. “No, I’m not,” he said firmly. “You’re smart, capable, and one of the kindest people I’ve ever met. You’re… amazing.”

My breath caught in my throat. The sincerity in his voice, the intensity in his eyes—it was overwhelming.

“Spencer…” I trailed off, unsure of what to say.

He reached out, his fingers brushing against mine. The touch was so gentle, so careful, it made my chest ache. “You don’t believe me, do you?”

I shook my head slightly. “It’s not that… I just don’t see myself the way you do.”

His brows furrowed, and he tilted his head slightly. “You should. Because I’m not wrong.”

The silence between us stretched, thick with unspoken words. I felt like I was standing on the edge of something, and for once, I wasn’t afraid to fall.

“You’re doing it again,” he said softly.

“Doing what?”

“Doubting yourself,” he said, his voice laced with a quiet kind of sadness.

I opened my mouth to argue, but the look on his face stopped me.

“You’re a good girl,” he said, his voice low and steady. “You just don’t know it yet.”

My cheeks burned, and I looked down, unable to meet his gaze.

“Hey,” he said gently, tilting my chin up with his finger. “Don’t hide from me.”

“I’m not hiding,” I whispered, though the words felt hollow.

“Yes, you are,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “And you don’t have to.”

Before I could overthink it, I stepped closer, closing the small distance between us. “Spencer…”

“Yes?”

I hesitated, my heart hammering in my chest. But then his eyes softened, and I knew. I knew he would catch me if I fell.

“I want to kiss you,” I said, my voice barely audible.

Spencer's lips curved into a small, surprised smile. “You do?”

I nodded, my cheeks flaming. “Is that… okay?”

His eyes softened, a mixture of surprise and something deeper—something that made my heart race. “It’s more than okay,” he said quietly.

I barely had time to process his words before his hand cupped my cheek, his fingers feather-light against my skin. He was so close now, his breath warm against my lips. For a moment, we just stood there, suspended in time.

And then he kissed me.

The world fell away.

It started soft, tentative—like he was afraid I’d disappear if he moved too quickly. His lips brushed against mine once, twice, each touch careful and reverent. It was everything I hadn’t dared to hope for: tender, consuming, perfect.

But then I leaned in, my fingers clutching at the front of his cardigan, and something shifted. The kiss deepened, and Spencer’s hand slid from my cheek to the back of my neck, pulling me closer. His other hand rested lightly on my waist, steadying me as my knees threatened to give out beneath me.

The softness gave way to something bolder, more urgent. His lips moved against mine with a fervor that left me breathless, and I couldn’t stop the small gasp that escaped me. Spencer stilled for a fraction of a second, as if startled by the sound, but then his grip tightened ever so slightly, and I was lost all over again.

He tasted like peppermint tea and something uniquely Spencer, and I never wanted it to end.

When we finally pulled apart, I was dizzy, my head spinning in the best way possible. Spencer rested his forehead against mine, his breath coming in short, uneven bursts.

“That was…” He trailed off, his voice unsteady.

“Amazing,” I finished for him, my voice barely above a whisper.

He chuckled softly, the sound warm and intimate in the quiet of his apartment. “Yeah. Amazing.”

My cheeks flushed, but this time it wasn’t from embarrassment—it was from the way he was looking at me, like I was the only thing in the world that mattered.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” he admitted, his voice low.

“Really?” I asked, my heart swelling at the thought.

He nodded, a small, shy smile playing at his lips. “But I didn’t think you felt the same way.”

“Spencer,” I said, shaking my head with a soft laugh. “How could I not? You’re… you.”

His brow furrowed slightly, like he was trying to puzzle out my words. “I’m not always good at recognizing when people care about me,” he said quietly.

“Well, I care,” I said firmly, my hand still clutching the front of his cardigan. “A lot.”

He smiled then, a real, unguarded smile that made my chest ache in the best way. “I care about you too,” he said softly.

For a moment, neither of us spoke. The air between us was thick with unspoken promises, the kind that didn’t need words to be understood.

Spencer’s hand slid from my waist to my hand, his fingers curling around mine. “You’re incredible, you know that?”

I looked away, flustered. “You’re just saying that.”

“I’m not,” he said, tugging me closer. “You’re smart, kind, and strong. And you’re a good girl.”

There it was again, the phrase that sent my heart into overdrive. My cheeks burned, and I bit my lip, trying to suppress the shy smile threatening to break free.

“You really like saying that, don’t you?” I teased, though my voice came out softer than I intended.

“Only because it’s true,” he said, his thumb brushing over my knuckles.

The sincerity in his voice, the way he was looking at me—I couldn’t take it. I hid my face in his chest, my fingers curling into the fabric of his cardigan.

“You’re impossible,” I mumbled against him, though my tone lacked any real heat.

“And you’re adorable when you’re flustered,” he replied, his voice filled with gentle amusement.

I tilted my head up to look at him, narrowing my eyes in mock indignation. “You’re lucky I like you.”

His smile widened, and he leaned down to press a soft kiss to my forehead. “I’m the lucky one.”

---

After we settled onto the couch, Spencer pulled a blanket over us, his arm draped around my shoulders as I rested my head against his chest. The quiet hum of the world outside seemed so far away, replaced by the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

“Spencer?” I asked softly, my voice breaking the comfortable silence.

“Hmm?”

“This is real, right?” I tilted my head to look up at him, my eyes searching his face for any hint of hesitation.

He glanced down at me, his brows furrowing slightly. “Of course it’s real. Why would you think it’s not?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted, my cheeks flushing. “It just feels… too good to be true.”

Spencer’s hand came up to cradle my face, his thumb brushing lightly over my cheek. “It’s real,” he said firmly. “I’m real. And I’m not going anywhere.”

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, but I blinked them away, focusing instead on the warmth in his gaze. “Promise?”

“I promise,” he said softly, pressing another kiss to my forehead.

And in that moment, with his arms around me and his words echoing in my heart, I believed him.

[parfaitblogs]

i have more than enough ❀ s. reid x reader

in which the holiday season is achingly difficult to get through, when you are spencer reid, who believes he is no longer allowed to enjoy them. 

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: hurt/comfort tags: established relationship. post prison!reid. word count: 2k a/n: and for my final act? the parfaitblogs special (post prison reid fic to a searows song). merry christmas from australia because it IS the 25th here!!! this is the end of my christmas advent calendar!! i had soo much fun writing these stories thank you to all that requested ♡

❄︎ advent calendar masterlist

He does not deserve a Christmas. 

Perhaps that is the only thing that runs through Spencer Reid's mind the second the Halloween decor filtered out of the stores, reindeer mugs entered them; while candy canes and Santa hats adorned every little item, and Christmas trees lit up every corner of every mall.

No matter what state he traveled to, he couldn't escape the festivities of the holiday season. He's pretty sure he's the only person who wants to. 

You waited for him. He feels immensely guilty for just how much waiting you've had to do all year. Waiting for him to go to trial, waiting for him to get out of prison, waiting for him to let you in again. 

Waiting, waiting, waiting.

You're waiting again. A Christmas tree that blandly sits empty and undecorated in the corner of your shared apartment; a Christmas roast you aren't sure if you'll even cook takes up too much space in your fridge; gingerbread cookies you promised your friends weeks ago remaining unbaked. 

He knew you were upset about it. His Christmas loving girlfriend forced to mute the celebrations of her favourite holiday because he couldn't find it in him to be excited about it. 

He didn't know how to fix it, really. 

You had tried everything to get him back into the Christmas spirit he's had for the past three years you've spent together. Baking with him, picking out the very Christmas tree that leaves the room smelling like a pine forest together, Christmas shopping for the presents he had no will to buy for his family and friends. 

Nothing had worked. 

"Spence?"

Sitting awkwardly at his — now — very minimally decorated desk, his head lifts from the papers in front of him, eyebrows frowning towards each other as his eyes land on you.

"Hi," he murmurs, putting the pen in his hand down in an effort to give you his full attention. He was getting better at that, these days. 

"I finished dinner," you tell him, fingers fidgeting with one another; a recent habit he had noticed you'd developed in the months between his arrest and release. "If you want to come eat."

He doesn't, but then again, he never does. And despite how awful he feels, he feels even more so for what he's putting you through, and the guilt that chews away at him is enough to will him to do small things — like eating — for you. 

"Yeah," he breathes out, and stands up from the desk, following you silently over to the meal sitting at the edge of the kitchen bench you had cooked for the two of you.

Silence overwhelmed you two as you ate, as it usually does. Sitting curled up beside one another on the couch, sharing a blanket and yet still feeling so distant from each other regardless. 

"Did you call your mom?" you ask him, and his fork pauses in the plate. 

Right. It's Christmas. The time for calling family members and sharing love for them during this supposed to be joyous time. 

"Not yet," he shakes his head. "I'll... get to it. Before Christmas is over."

"You have a week," you remind him, though it isn't to be passive aggressive at all. You genuinely wonder if he's forgotten the date of Christmas that has quickly crept up on you both.

"I know."

You stare silently at the coffee table after a short nod to his words, and you wrack your brain for things to say, just to keep him talking.

"Can I give you your gift before Christmas day?" 

He lifts his head, and you feel his eyes transfix on you.

"If you want."

You want him to want it too, but you aren't sure if that's a reasonable wish anymore. 

"I do," you nod, and quickly finish up your food, before you stand, and leave the room altogether. 

He places his plate next to yours on the coffee table — he'd remember to get to cleaning those later — just as you return, a square shaped brown paper gift in your hands, a purple ribbon tied in a bow around it. 

"You got me a square?" he asks you, and your heart warms at the teasing tone in his voice. He's trying. 

"Open it," you press, instinctively shaking his shoulder with both hands pressed up against it. 

"Okay, okay."

He's meticulous in pulling the plain wrapping paper off, and you almost want to open the gift for him. 

"Did you make this?" he asks you as he carefully pulls the square apart in front of your eyes, though he does already know the answer before you have a chance to start nodding your head. 

A Victorian Puzzle Purse situates delicately in his hands. Hands that pull it apart ever so slowly, taking note of every little drawn and painted detail on the paper, opening it up to a letter that he spent two minutes reading through — confirming that he was not only reading it once through. 

"Do you like it?" you ask him, almost hesitantly. 

"Victorian Puzzle Purse's were how lovers would communicate for Valentine's day," he says, instead of answering your question directly, as he neatly folds it back up into the intricate origami square it was originally when he pulled it out. "Sorry," he quickly adds, his eyes landing back on you. "That wasn't an answer. I do. I like it a lot."

"I know it isn't much, but I don't want to overwhelm you with gifts this Christmas. I'm honestly not even expecting anything big. We can just order food in and watch movies or something this year, if you'd prefer. You just have to promise me you'll at least let me put mistletoe up outside our bedroom, because it's kind of become tradition and... sorry."

He's staring at you, half dumbfounded, half in awe, as you realise you were rambling instead of sitting in the moment of him enjoying something seasonal, but you can't even find it within yourself to be frustrated at it. For he is letting a small smile grace his lips, and you're leaning forwards with a smile of your own, and for a second or more, he is not the shattered prison man, and you are not his distanced girlfriend. 

"You can put mistletoe outside our bedroom," he says, and you're breaking into an even wider grin.

"Really?"

"It's tradition."

You light up enough for there to be no need for a decorated Christmas tree in your apartment anymore, and you're threading your fingers through his hand to drag him up off the couch. 

Your gift to him remains on the coffee table as you lead him over to your bedroom door, prompting him to stay still, as you disappear to find the piece of familiar fake greenery. 

"Mistletoe!" you present it to him, and he takes it from you habitually, using the pin you also hand him and pinning it above your heads on the doorframe.

"I think we need to buy a new one," he says, hands dropping back by his side. His eyes are trained on you, but your own head is still tilted back, inspecting the faux plant. 

"I think we need to buy a real one," you answer conclusively, finally dropping your gaze to him. 

"Next year," he confirms. "Tradition complete?"

You shake your head. "The tradition ends with a kiss."

Hesitation follows your words, and you instantly regret them. 

It wasn't that you didn't kiss, or weren't intimate in any way. It's simply that it was on occasion now, and almost always motivated by something more important than a silly mistletoe tradition.

"It's okay," you cover your unwelcome disappointment with a smile. 

He ignores your reassurance. "It does end in a kiss, you're right."

"But we don't have to," you mumble.

"Yes," his hands encase your waist to do nothing more than to pull you closer to him. "We do."

"Not if you don't want to."

"Did I say that?"

You open your lips to respond, but the words die on your tongue. 

"What did I do to make you think I don't want to kiss you, angel?" he's frowning now, and you feel guilt settle in your chest. 

"Nothing, really. We just—um—don't kiss... as much. Anymore. Which is fine, by the way, and I can understand it. You're under no moral obligation to kiss me. Obviously."

His frown deepens. "I think we're experiencing a bout of miscommunication."

"What?"

"I thought you didn't want to kiss me," he explains, and suddenly, you're mirroring the confusion on his face. 

"Why would I not want to kiss you?" you ask him, incredulously. 

His shoulders slump at the question, and you force yourself not to fill the silence that follows.

"Prison," he replies, quietly. "I didn't think you'd really even want me once I got out of prison. You don't initiate anything anymore, either. I just assumed."

"I didn't initiate anything because I was waiting for you to initiate stuff."

"I can see that now."

"I didn't want to rush you," you tell him, as earnestly as possible. "I know prison was a lot, and you still haven't told me everything that happened, but I wanted you to not rush yourself. Or... us, I guess."

He swallows the lump of emotion that lodges in his throat. "I thought you were disappointed in me. Or—well, scared of me."

"No," your heart shatters, and you're sure he can hear it in your voice as your hands instantly cup his cheeks, fingers brushing over his cheekbones. "No, oh my God, Spencer."

"You shouldn't use the lord's name in vain. It's Christmas," he jokes, weakly. The smile you give him is weak, too.

"I was terrified for you. I was so worried about you in prison, and—and what they were doing to you in there. But never of you. Not a single part of me will ever be scared of you, sweet boy."

"I'm scared of me," he whispers, and his voice cracks in a way that has tears welling in your eyes. "I think differently, you know."

"And that automatically means I should be scared of you? Or makes you any less deserving of love?"

His silence is enough of a response. 

"I love you," you settle on telling him. "No matter what baggage you came back to me with. You deserve so much love, and I hate that you have been through so much. So much so that you believe yourself undeserving. You are not. You never will be. I will spend the rest of my life proving that to you, if I must. Or as long as you will let me."

"Forever," he replies, and you feel his hands close over your own on his face. "I will let you forever."

"Thank God. It'd be kind of embarrassing if I say all this and then you were to break up with me tomorrow," you say, and his cheeks stretch beneath your hands as he huffs a laugh.

"I won't break up with you."

"I wouldn't let you, anyways."

"Oh really?" his hands slide down to your waist once more. 

"Yeah," you confirm with a small nod, your own hands dropping to his neck, interlacing behind it, as you draw his head closer to yours. "You're stuck with me."

"I have not a word of complaint," he replies, and he's close enough that you feel the words tattoo your lips. "I love you."

And then he's kissing you, and there is an overwhelming amount of neglected feelings you had been missing poured into you, from his soul to yours. 

It was a kiss so unlike what you had grown used to in recent months. Fingers dug into your waist as a violent reminder of what you mean to him, and for the first time since May, you believed it. 

When he goes to pull away, you barely give him time to get air before you're chasing his lips again, and he tugs you impossibly closer with a laugh that vibrates against your face. 

You kiss him until your hands go numb behind his neck, and your legs begin to ache, and your waist is sure to have bruised in the shapes of his fingertips. Chest heaving and eyes full of more adoration than you think one human can have for another, you meet his gaze once more.

"Tradition complete."

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

chicken scratches ☆

synopsis : katsuki tries to surprise you...but he's taking too damn long !!

an. merry christmas(if you celebrate) n happy holidays yall !! i love my boyfriend as usual,,btw have yall seen that new hori art ??? dreamy sigh my man so stupid..

cw. itty bitty manga spoilers, but otherwise nun !!

when katsuki manages to hold a pencil again and write with his right hand, it looks absolutely horrendous.

switching from writing with their left hand then back to the right one would've been disorienting for most, and it probably was for him, but he didn't show it much aside from the occasional grumble and scoff at his trembling grip. nothing ever holds him back after all.

you sigh "can i—"

"no. don't look yet." katsuki has his back turned to you, sending you a sharp glare. hunched over his little piece of paper like how he'd hide his page from kaminari's peeking eyes during an exam, always so dramatic. he turns around with a huff and you snort with a roll of your eyes.

you had come over to his room after he’d told you to, mumbling out a quick “come over.” over the phone and hanging up before you could say a word.

and so here you were. waiting.

“katsukiiiiiiii—”

“shut up,” your boyfriend grunts, his scribbling sounds harsher, in a bit more of a rush. “so damn impatient..”

“but i wanna see what you wrote !” you kick your legs up in the air, pouting at his back sitting in his office chair. “i’ve been waiting for decades to see you write with that arm again.”

katsuki scoffs out a snarky laugh “yeah, well how do you think i feel ?” you groan, whining at his dark joke, he laughs again. “just stay put. ‘m..almost done.” he trails off, focusing back on his surprisingly long task.

you do know that despite being able to use his arm again, it had gone slow—surely, but really slowly. then again, he originally wouldn’t have been able to use that arm at all, so you’ll honestly take anything.

but the excitement is getting to you, and you really wanna see what he wrote ! so slowly, surely, you quietly try to sneak the short distance to his desk to peek behind his shoulder. however, your boyfriend has some crazy spider senses.

he sighs “if i turn around and you’re not sittin’ your ass on the bed i’ll—HEY !”

busted. katsuki catches you mid creep, so close to seeing his paper until he swiftly turns in his chair. he reaches out with his left hand, reflexively, and grabs a hold of your arm.

“you can’t ever just—do what you’re fuckin’ told ! knew you were being too damn quiet ! ” he complains between gritted teeth, trying to wrestle you away from him.

“i just—wanna see !” you shriek. when he suddenly remembers he can use his right hand again, and it almost feels nostalgic the way he jams it in your side to tickle you, dropping his pencil in the process. you think you hear it rolling on the floor, but your own noises of surprise overpowered the sound. he’d really gotten better at using that arm again, you could cry if your boyfriend wasn’t actively trying to shove his entire hand inside your ribs and push you away.

during the light scuffle, his hurried movements magically make the paper fly away with a harsh whip of his arm and a gust of wind, you thank every god when you notice it, just a second before he does. you’re half sure the world slowed down as you slide down to the floor and clutch the piece of paper in your grasp like the fate of the world depended on it.

the little piece of paper makes your heart jump, with its crumpled up edges and wonky writing and all.

I love you

both the o’s are too long, his u trails off towards the end and the e looks like he'd written it with the pencil in his mouth. it looks nothing like his usual handwriting.

but it was him, unmistakably, undeniably him and all of him and all of his efforts. all his efforts coming down to this. being able to write i love you and to show you.

your heart does more than jump, it restarts in your chest.

harshly, your flipped over by katsuki. he’s red all the way down to his neck and his eyebrows twitch angrily. but his hands, both his hands are gripping your cheeks hard and pulling at them and you can’t help but laugh.

“little shit. can never jus’ lemme be romantic..” he pouts, pouts like the adorable tryharding asshat he is, and you’re so so happy. your cheeks hurt cus he's tugging at them but his right thumb is digging into your cheek. you can feel the little callous on his middle finger because he holds his pencil with too much pressure on it.

“you’re so adorable.” it tumbles out between a watery laugh before you can stop it, katsuki’s jaw ticks and he gets even redder if that was even possible—he uses his right hand to squish your nose shut mid breath so your ears pop.

“shut it, shut up. ya ruined everything.” ducking down, his teeth make contact with your cheek and your chin knocks against his when you jump with a little scream. "i literally just finished. was just about to hand it to you, but noooo—everythin' has to go your way.." he angrily mumbles into your neck.

you press a kiss to his nape and he stiffens "i'm sorry for ruining your perfect surprise." he scoffs, biting at your shoulder. "i'm really happy though, it was unfortunately very worth it."

"you're a fuckin' fiend." he spits out, and you really can't help but laugh "love you too." you snort out, and his hands, both of them squeeze your sides hard, your cheeks hurt and you can't help but laugh.

[defmaybe]

Promise

12 Days of Christmas: Day 2, December 26th, 2024

LE SSERAFIM’s Nakamura Kazuha x Male Reader

8.8k words

Christmas Masterlist

A/N: This is actually my first time writing about a guy being dominant lol.

—

Ambition.

It’s not really a far-fetched concept for anyone. To aim higher has always been an innate trait in humans. Kazuha is nothing short of that, perhaps having the quality even more than a lot of people.

So, it breaks your heart to say no to her.

“Kazuha, I really can’t. I’m sorry,” you say, despondent in your response. “The solos have never been in our plan.”

She sighs, as if she has already known the outcome of her request. But her eyes remain determined, staring straight into yours. 

She’s not going anywhere.

Kazuha’s personality is nothing short of resolute. Motivation, determination, diligence—she has it all. These are reflected in the over-time practice sessions every single day. The time she pours into perfecting the dance choreographies is unreal. And it really shows on the stage, it really shows.

She stands up, her long, muscular legs come into your view. They’re beautiful, and you can just spend all day looking at them, but that’s going to be postponed for now. There’s the puzzle of guessing her mind right in front of you.

“Is there anything else I can do to convince you? More practice? Better stage perform–”

“No, Zuha, I’m so, so sorry about this, but we’ve never been a vocal group, really. You’ll have to under–”

“I don’t want to be remembered as just another member of this group. Please, this is important to me. I’ll do anything, please,” she pleads.

It’s your turn to sigh. She won’t let up, will she? Your fingers tap onto the handle of the chair restlessly, unable to find a solution for this woman.

“I just can’t find a solution for you right now, Zuha. If you really want that, you’ll have to find your own way, alright? I’m sorry.” You’re trying to sound stern, but there’s only regret within the words.

She takes a step towards you, resting her hands on the table. Her shirt falls down slightly to give way for you to her faint cleavage. Your breath hitches slightly.

“Please?” she pleads, one last time. That slight view of her breasts is giving her the upper hand in this.

Don’t.

You find your mouth latching onto Kazuha’s tits, tasting the sweat after her practice. She cries and cries in euphoria, spurring you on. Your hands roam around her body, feeling her otherworldly tight abs, her supple ass—one that you’ve been wanting to bury your face into. Your fingers then find their place inside her cunt, nudging her sensitive spot deep within.

Don’t

“You know, Kazuha, I found your ambition–” you say, standing up to match her tall height. Still, you have to look up slightly to match her eyes. “–admirable. It’s one of your best qualities. It really breaks my heart to say no to you.”

“Thanks, boss,” she scoffs, looking down with despondency. The fire in her eyes died down. “I’ll come back when I’m ready.”

Kazuha then walks away, crestfallen. Her strides are aimless and disinterested. The view of her back is displayed to you. 

With your eyes, you start to strip her, piece by piece—from her shirt, her pants. She’s in just her underwear now. Your cock starts to grow at the mental image you create inside your head. 

You slowly unlock her bra, fully revealing her toned back. Her body warmth emanates into you. You reach for her pert breasts, making her moan as your fingers graze her hard, brown nipples. But you don’t stop just there. Your frisky fingers wander down into her panties. You found out that she shaves, and she’s already fucking wet for you. Then, you plunge your fingers into her soaked cunt, rewarding you with an airy moan from Kazuha. You nib on her ears softly, bringing out another whimper from her.

Without any patience left, you strip down her last garment, making her bare in front of you, and you can tell that she’s as aroused as you are. Her dripping cunt is finally coming into your view. Her body is yours. She’s yours.

Don’t.

You’re snapped back into reality, though. Back to watching her, almost leaving the room. You have to take your chance. 

Now.

“I’m not done yet, Zuha,” you order, sounding serious for the first time. It gets over you. Lust gets over you.

She stops, looking back at you. Her breath hitches as she sees the newfound determination inside your eyes. There’s something about you, and she can feel it.

“Yes, boss?”

“Let’s say for tomorrow, you wear something–different, something that is a bit more–provocative, and we’ll see what happens.”

Kazuha furrows her brows, giving you a puzzled look. “P–Provocative?”

You only nod, expressionless, trying to hide the fact that your heart is beating so damn fast right now. “Provocative, Zuha.”

“A–And wh–what will I get in return?” Kazuha asks, her voice starts to shake. Her confidence is faltering.

You smile back at her unsure expression. She’s going to get what she wants—a chance to have the spotlight on her own. You’re going to get what you want—her.

“You know how this goes, Zuha. You know how this goes.”

“I–I d–don’t know. D–Do I really need to do this? I mean–I want to have that solo–”

“I’ll be in the practice room tomorrow, make sure to follow my instructions,” you say, stern and confident.

The words linger within her mind. “I–fuck–fine, boss,” and she gives in to you.

“Don’t ruin it, Zuha.”

—

You couldn’t sleep last night.

Kazuha is stuck in your head. Your mind replays the event that might happen—you having a mind-breaking sex with her. Your cock twitches with anticipation, expecting her cunt to wrap around it like a vice. Hell, you might get to fuck her tight ass even. You’ve seen it. You lost count of how many times you’ve watched that Perfect Night dance practice video. The cinematographer did know their job.

“Mmm, that felt so good, boss.”

How in the fuck did you stay assertive like that in the room? That wasn’t you at all. Though, at least it opened a new door for you.

You’re getting to watch Nakamura Kazuha in her tightest, smallest clothes she’s ever going to wear, and maybe, just maybe, they’ll be off by sunset.

—

Kazuha opens the door into the practice room to find you already there, dealing with work, among other things.

You give her a faint smile, satisfied with the way she composes herself for today.

She’s wearing a tight-fitted sports bra, one that shows you the curve of her firm chest. You’d love to put your hand on them, kneading, nibbling her taut nipples through the thin fabric. Her hair is freed, swaying with her strides. Below, her shorts are so damn strained that you can see the outline of her soon-to-be drenched panties. You’re going to use your mouth to take it off, while your hands grip on her muscular thig–

“Hey, boss,” Sakura snaps you back into reality. Standing beside her is Eunchae, smiling brightly.

“Shit–fuck–,” you mumble to yourself. “Uh, hi, girls.”

“Yeah, I noticed it too,” Eunchae says to you, voice barely above a whisper. “She probably forgot to do her laundry.”

“Who–Who?” Fuck, you sound like a goddamn owl doing this.

“Zuha, she’s wearing something that’s a bit–exposing, isn’t she?” Sakura says, smiling.

“Bet she must be so damn embarrassed,” Eunchae adds with a giggle. You can feel your cheeks starting to grow hotter.

“Uh, y–yeah, she must’ve been–”

“Alright, girls, let’s start the practice,” the instructor shouts, clapping her hands.

Sakura and Eunchae giggle at each other before walking away from you.

“See ya, boss.”

“See ya.”

—

As the practice goes on, you can’t help but popping up from your work to watch Kazuha now and then. Just like last night, your length starts to grow, and you’re doing your best to use your laptop to hide the tent in your pants.

(The work is actually a façade, really. If you could just stare at Kazuha for the whole practice, you wouldn’t have risked straining your back carrying your laptop down from the top floor.)

Her movements are nothing short of strong and sensual. She’s committed, showing no signs of relenting. She has always been this determined. Every kick, every sway, every arch, she gives it all.

When she bends down, you have a magnificent view of her supple ass, so juicy. You wish you could’ve put your face in it, tasting her sweat dripping down her tightness. 

When she arches, you have a splendid view of her small tits under that damn tight sports bra. You wish you could’ve sucked on them, tasting her sweat dripping down her valley. You wish you could’ve made her moan erratically in your embrace.

Your bulge is screaming under your tight pants. It aches to be freed, aches to be inside of your employee’s ass, aches to be thrusted into her mouth.

The other women don’t seem to notice, still focusing on the practice. Thank god.

—

As the practice comes to an end, you’re struggling to hide your raging erection under your slacks. It’s time to approach her for the next step, so you stand up and walk towards Kazuha, who is all drenched in her sweat. Her creamy skin shines against the lights in the practice room. She’s stretching to cool down herself, while all the other members and the instructor are already leaving the room.

“So,” you begin the conversation.

“So,” Kazuha repeats. “How did I do?”

You try to compose yourself. “You did well, Kazuha. Committed as always.”

She smiles. It’s a genuine one. “Thanks, boss.”

You continue, “Now, about the solo comeback we’ve talked about.” You sit next to her. You can feel her body warmth close to you. Maybe you’re sitting a bit too close to her. Her expression is unreadable. Maybe she’s expecting something from you.

“Yeah? Is it done?”

“Let’s say–we’re halfway there.”

Kazuha’s breaths speed up a little. She’s anxious.

“Halfway?”

“Halfway, yes.”

“Go ahead, boss. Tell me what to do,” Kazuha says, slightly apprehensive, but she still has her ground. Her fiery eyes bore into yours.

Here goes nothing.

Your hands make a soft contact with her knees. You hear her breath hitch softly. Her eyes weaken. You can feel the apprehension building up within her loins. Her body jolts.

“B–Boss,” she stutters, before she brings her hand atop of yours, putting some force on it. Your movement is halted.

“A–Are you sure that I have to do this?”

You should stop.

You gulp, unsure whether to have this woman go your way or let your lust take over.

Do the right thing.

The image of Kazuha’s body, all sweaty, atop of yours, moving back and forth on your cock, materializes in your head. Her nasty, salty fluid falls onto your naked body. Her pungent aroma fills your nostrils, and it’s driving you insane. Her small breasts rest above you, and you can’t help but give them a taste.

You should stop.

Kazuha mouth’s create a suction around your cock. Your wails echo through the practice room. You grip onto the back of her head, harshly pressing it into your hardness. She gags and gags. Her eyes become watery. Her grips on your thighs grow harsher, and it’s going to draw blood out of you.

Do the right thing.

You’re lavishing Kazuha’s cunt with unmatched hunger. She cries out in ecstasy. You keep attacking her sensitive nub with your tongue. Your fingers are knuckles deep within her, applying pressure on the spot that makes her moan even louder. Her taste is salty, yet so addictive. She tastes so fucking good.

You should stop.

You’re gripping onto her waist, thrusting into her wet cunt repeatedly. “Yes, yes, right fucking there, boss. Please, please, please don’t ever fucking stop,” Kazuha sobs. Wet sounds vibrate through the practice room. The reflection of you two in the mirror only fuels the fire. You bring your hands onto her firmness, playing with her taut nipples. She keens, and it’s one of the best things that you’ve ever heard from her.

Do the right thing.

But you give in.

“How far can you go, Zuha?” You keep your composure. Please make it work. Your heart rate spikes, but your breathing is still saying the opposite. Keep your cool. Keep your cool.

“I–” She stares blankly into your eyes. You can feel that the gears in her brain are turning quickly. Yes or no. Yes or no.

“Stand up, Zuha,” you order and get up from your sitting position. She looks around, trying to find solace in the objects in the room. She’s unsure.

“Fuck,” she mumbles to herself, before getting up. She’s a bit taller than you, but with the power you’re holding, it’s like you’re six-feet tall.

“Stand against the mirror,” you say, sternly, pointing to the reflective wall. She hesitates for a bit before complying with your command.

You walk towards her until you’re just a breath away from her. You kneel. Her cunt is right in front of your face. She’s pervading your nostrils, and you’re so damn happy to make her your air.

“A–are you going to eat me out, b–boss?” Kazuha asks nervously. Her hands are trembling.

“How much do you want this, Zuha?” you ask her back. Your hands are closing in on her tight waistband already. You want to eat her pussy so fucking bad.

“I–I don’t know.”

You let the silence hang in the air for a moment, contemplating your next move. Maybe you should stop just here. Just say no to her request, and act like this never happened. 

But the show has to go on.

“I’ll go slowly, okay?”

“O–Okay, boss.”

You slowly peel down her shorts, slowly revealing her black panties underneath. They’re already drenched with her sweat. God, if you could just give it a taste. You can feel the urge to stick out your tongue. Her creamy thighs are slowly exposed to you, but you can’t just yield to temptation that easily. You have to go slow.

The outline of her puffy cunt can be seen through the dark fabric. She looks so fucking delicious from the outside. You find yourself closing in the distance between your filthy tongue and her pungent, drenched folds.

“Boss, p–please don’t tease me,” Kazuha hisses. Her thighs are shaking from the uncompromising anticipation. You can see sweat running down her toned legs. “If you’re going to do it, just fucking do it.”

And you break.

You yank her shorts down, making her body jolt in shock. 

“Kick it off,” you order her, and she kicks her shorts away in the boiling lust. It’s just her underwear now, before your tongue can taste her nectar. You’re drooling at the sight of the trace of her pussy. Fuck, you’re not waiting anymore.

Hastily, you grab onto her panties’ waistband before pulling it off in a quick swoop, rewarding you with an airy moan. And there it is, the treasure you’ve been seeking. Her clean-shaven cunt already glistens. Her juice shines under the room’s lights. Her scent is so damn addictive. It’s pungent. It’s musky. It’s tart, and you can’t help but–

“Ah! Fuck!” Kazuha rasps as your tongue finds its place on her cunt. It echoes through the empty practice room. Her body turns rigid. Her hands grip onto your head harshly, pushing you into her pussy even harder.

The first taste of her cunt feels salty—a combination of her sweat and her juice. You’re lapping it up relentlessly. You’re revelling in it—the way she moans, the way she tastes, and the way she just fucking keens. It’s all so perfect.

She curses and curses a variety of profanities. Her face displays pure ecstasy and a glint of embarrassment, but your only goal right now is to make her falter. You keep lapping and lapping on her cunt, tasting her nectar without yielding.

Her eyes are lit up with raging fire, fluttering in bliss. Her hands grip onto your head harshly. It's almost drawing blood from your poor scalp. Her cries only climb in volume and frequency, more demanding. It grows louder and higher with each lapping of your tongue.

You double your efforts, eating her cunt out faster and faster hungrily. Her rasps become harsher. You close your eyes and take in her scent through your nose. It’s musky. It’s tart. And you swear that it’s a fucking aphrodisiac for you.

And if it’s not enough, your hands grab onto her firm ass, suffocating yourself with her pungent cunt. She lets out a gasp, and you swear that you’ve never been any more feral like this in your whole fucking life.

Her ass feels so meaty, a product of her consistent squat routines. You do nothing but give them a squeeze and a grab, bringing out endless wails from her thin lips.

Then, an idea pops up in your filthy head.

“Turn around, Zuha.”

“Wh–What, boss?”

“I’m gonna eat your ass.”

She complies quickly, showing her tight ass in front of your face. It’s heaving. She’s expecting. And without a word, you bury yourself in between her supple cheeks. Your tongue immediately plants atop of her asshole.

“Godddd~” Kazuha grunts, her voice low and harsh. The sweat running down her tightness combining with her juice makes up an even better taste. You’re basking in them—her taste, her aroma, her moans, her sounds.

Her body spasms in a bliss. Her hips jerk against the practice room wall, painting it with her salty sweat on her meaty thighs.

And if that isn’t already enough, you drive your fingers deep into her. They’re hugged by her tight walls, before you’d curl them to make her cry even more.

“Fuckkk~” she groans, deeply. She uses her hands to grip onto the back of your head. You’re pressed into her ass even stronger. Her moans start to get frenzy, and that drives you even wilder.

“B–Boss, please, I–I’m gonna cum,” Kazuha screams, echoing over the room. Her entire body turns more rigid, sucking the life out of your dirty mouth.

“Hgnngn.” Kazuha can only form unintelligible sounds at this point. Any lilt in her voice is now replaced by primal grunts and moans.

And she cums. Her frame becomes stiff, gushing out clear liquid out of her plump pussy onto the wooden floor. Her entire body spasms and writhes against the wall, painting it with her sweat. Your mouth goes through the entire ride of her orgasm, feeling her high, savoring her precipice.

As her orgasm dies down, what comes out of her mouth are indescribable groans and guttural whimpers. Her body becomes limped after the mind-breaking orgasm she just experienced.

“Fuck, I–I’ve never thought–” she pauses to catch her breath, trying to make sense of the situation. Her head is hanging from her neck. Her body rests on the mirror weakly. Her boss just gave her one of the best orgasms of her life. “–I’ve never thought that it could be this good with a person.”

You wipe your mouth, getting a taste of her salty squirt remaining on your hand. “My pleasure, Zuha.”

“Guess–Guess I should–I should return the favor, huh?”

You stand up. Even if she’s towering over you by mere inches, you feel like the ball is in your court, and you are going to do whatever you please with it.

“Kneel.”

She slowly gets down. Her eyes lock with yours, filled with uncertainty and anxiety. You aren’t sure what’s filling her mind right now. Lust? Disgust? You can only guess.

You let it go on, anyway.

Her slick forehead shines against the room lights. Her hands start to unbuckle your tight jeans, slowly freeing your cock from its fabric cage. As the first barrier goes down, she watches your covered erection anxiously. Her breathing accelerates. Her hands tremble. She’s unsure, but what is she unsure about?

“B–Boss,” Kazuha stammers.

“Yes, Zuha?” you say, looking down to meet her eyes.

“Wh–What if I don’t do well?”

“I don’t mind, really. Don’t put so much pressure on yourself,” you say with a smile, trying to lighten the mood. Sure, you’d love to have power over her, but not to the point where it leaves her in dread.

“Thanks, boss,” she answers, before grabbing onto the edge of your boxers. She slowly pulls it down to reveal your hardness. It springs free. She’s watching it in awe, taking in the image of your stiff cock.

She starts slowly, stroking your cock from the base. Your breath becomes shorter.

“Are you okay, boss?”

“J–Just go on, Zuha.”

Kazuha then plants her lips on the tip of your cock, making your body shudder in pleasure. She’s coating you in her saliva. She’s making you go wild.

“Fuck.”

Kazuha lets out a giggle before taking in more of your length, starting from the whole tip. There’s determination in her eyes, the eagerness to make you cry out her name in bliss.

She doubles her efforts, second by second. She takes in more and more of your thick cock into her filthy mouth, and you start to reach her throat. It feels so fucking good. Your breathing grows more erratic. You can almost moan in pleasure, if it’s not her teeth that keep getting in the way. They keep grazing your cock, and it’s the only thing that stops you from crying her name out.

“Z–Zuha, shit, fuck, y–your teeth.”

She suddenly pulls back from the act, leaving you lost in the sudden absence of your high. Her hand detaches from you.

“Yes?” she asks, drool leaks out the edge of her mouth.

“Fuck.” You try to catch your breath, trying not to collapse onto the floor. “Y–Your teeth, it keeps grazing my cock.”

“Oh,” Kazuha utters. “Should we just–try something else?”

You stare into her eyes. Her expression is unreadable, but you need an upper hand in this. She’s going to suck your cock.

“Do it again, Zuha. Suck my cock again.” Your voice is commanding. You swear that you’ve never been this assertive before in your life. “Without the teeth.”

She looks up at you. There’s anxiety in her eyes. There’s the fear of letting you down.

“S–Sure, boss.”

She moves her gorgeous face towards your cock again. This time, she makes sure to wrap her lips around her teeth. And at the first contact, you cry out her name. It feels so fucking good.

“Fuck, Z–Zuha.”

She only smiles with the tip of your cock in her mouth. She stays there for a while, giving your tip licks and licks to make you whimper in rapture. Her hands stroke along your length. Her eyes look up at you, she knows she’s having a lead.

Kazuha then takes more and more of you and seconds go by, slowly. You watch as your length disappears into her mouth and her name leaves yours.

She takes your cock in so deep you start to hear her gag. Her eyes start to flutter in discomfort. She’s still trying to look up at you, as her hands go to your testicles. She’s squeezing them.

“God, fuck!”

Her saliva does wonders to the experience, making you suck a sudden every chance you have. It’s hard to resist not pushing her fully onto your cock right now, making her take its length fully.

“K–Keep doing that, Zuha. Keep fucking doing that.”

With encouragement, she then pushes herself fully onto your cock. You are now inside her mouth, and the image is nothing short of phenomenal. Saliva is leaking out of her. Her eyes are blinking rapidly. Tears are running down her cheeks. She’s making unintelligible sounds around your cock, choking on it, sputtering on it. It’s a cacophony. She’s submitting herself to you, and you’re loving every second of it.

“So eager to please, don’t you?” you have to ask. Your hands land on the back of her head softly.

She only let out a hum as a reply. Her mouth is too full of your cock to say anything. It’s huge for her. She’s cock-drunk now.

Finally catching the wind of your dominance over her, you sneer, “Never know that you’re quite a slut, Zuha.” You grip her by the hair, slowly pulling her off your thick cock. She chokes and sputters on the way out. God, what a sight.

As her mouth leaves your cock, you finally get to see her face fully. Black streaks run down from her eyes. Her lips are swollen. She’s drooling. 

“What a cockslut,” you utter, still holding onto her hair. A smile forms on her face. She’s fucking happy to be dominated like this.

“Anything for you, boss. You promised me a solo~” she says sultrily (and drunkenly from your cock), giving the tip of your length a lick as she finishes her words. Your body shudders.

“G–God, Zuha,”

Without another word, she dives onto your glistened dick again, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. Her teeth graze your cock slightly, though.

“Sh–Shit, your teeth, Zuha, y–your teeth.”

She quickly complies, covering her hard teeth with her lips. She’s fucking you with her mouth properly again. She bobs her head up and down slowly, trying to catch the rhythm. Pleasure shoots through you like a bullet. And with the way she’s looking up at you so damn submissively, you swear you can cum right here and now.

She starts to find her tempo, quickening her strokes. She’s going up and down your cock faster. Her hands find themselves on your exposed thighs. Fuck, they’re cold from the air conditioners, and it makes your body tremble in the sensation.

The wet sound of her sucking your cock echoes through the room. Your hands, again, find themselves on the back of her head, pushing her into your cock relentlessly. Your fingers run through her soft hair, feeling her silk.

“Fuck, s–such a willing slut for your boss, don’t you?”

Kazuha only lets out a low groan affirmatively. She’s still aiming to pleasure her boss. Her career is at stake, after all, and you’re rejoicing in the way her mouth moves up and down your cock like this.

And you can feel it, the inevitable. It’s building up inside your loins. You’re going to cum inside her warm mouth. You can’t resist it anymore.

“Z–Zuha, gonna cum.”

She only makes muffled sounds into your cock, too busy sucking your length to say anything, and you’re so damn happy that she’s willing to go this far for you.

“Take all of it, alright? Be a good girl for me,” you groan out. Your mind is so lost in the pleasure Kazuha is giving you.

She can only nod, still bobbing her head without any care. She’s giving you a damn good blowjob, and you start to lose control of yourself.

You’re close. Your muscles grow more tense. Your cock twitches inside her mouth. Your grip on her head becomes harsher and harsher, determined to make her take all of your hardness.

“Gonna–Gonna cum.”

You break. You push Kazuha onto your cock harshly, making her nose hit your pubic bone. Your cock shoots ropes and ropes of semen into her mouth, emptying your balls inside her. She’s damn eager to take it all. She’s gripping onto your thighs tightly. Your scent is filling up her nostrils, making her eyes flutter in unbridled lust. Gagging sounds come out of her mouth.

“Goddamn–fuck!”

Your vision turns white. Your cock twitches violently inside her mouth. Cum is leaking out of your tip into her warm cavern. You’re painting the insides of her mouth white. You’re damn ecstatic. What a fucking ride that is.

Successive spurts grow softer, from shots into drizzles. Kazuha is still determined to take it all. Her hands snake up to squeeze your tight ass, pressing you forward to bury yourself further in her mouth.

“F–Fuck, Zuha.”

She smiles, before finally pulling herself off of your cock. She takes a small gulp, signaling that cum is going down her slutty throat. You watch in awe. She then opens her mouth, tongue hanging open, no trace of cum left inside. Fuck, she drank all of you.

“What’s next, boss?” she asks, wiping the remnants of cum off her face. Her face is a mess, but she’s ready for another round.

Not you, though.

“Wait a sec.” You then sit on the wooden floor, looking into the mirror. Kazuha rests beside you.

“Gotta wait for this little guy to be ready again, huh?” she asks, touching your now-flaccid cock.

“We can talk.”

She then rests her head on your shoulder, faint black streaks can be seen on her face. You can feel her body warmth emanating onto you.

“So.”

“So?” you ask.

“So, I have a question for you,” says Kazuha. Her voice is weak, clearly tired from the oral action she gave you. You two make eye contact in the reflection.

“Go ahead.”

“Why did you decide to become our manager?”

“Well–” you pause, trying to recollect the complete picture. You just keep forgetting it “–I kind of wanted to become an idol, you know?”

She lets out a soft chuckle. “But?”

You can’t help but to laugh along with her. “Yeah, my body isn’t really up for the task.” You then pat your out-of-shape tummy softly on your shirt.

“I’d like to be remembered, just like you,” you continue, sighing along the way. “To live among the stars, all that stuff.”

It starts to pour out now, your story. Despite the earlier dominance, you feel vulnerable with her. You’re showing your heart to one of your employees.

Kazuha laughs again. “It’s not all confetti and flowers, boss.”

“I know, I know,” you say, somewhat understanding her life after a few years of observation from afar. “All of you have gone through a lot, and I’ll forever admire you guys for that.”

“Thanks, boss,” she replies. Her hand moves down to play with your cock again. “Still not there, huh?”

A chuckle leaves your mouth. “It’ll take some time, Zuha.”

“Ask me something, then,” she says. 

You let the silence hang in the air, trying to think of a question. It’s difficult, especially when you’re naked down from your waist like this.

You were about to ask her the same question she had asked you, but you’ve asked her that already. She loves Blackpink, hence her idol aspirations. She's an INFP, used to be an INTP. Her eyesight gets worse with time. What’s left to be asked?

“You know, I was so scared when that interviewer asked me about my type,” she says, her hands caressing your body. Your mind is brought to that interview, the one she–

“I was so afraid that the fans would reject me just because I said ‘men or women’.”

You can only sigh.

“It seemed like they didn’t, Zuha,” you shoot her a smile, holding her hand gently, as if you didn’t fuck her throat senseless mere minutes ago. “Don’t give much fuck about those people.”

She lets out a giggle. “Yeah, I suppose so.”

The conversation goes on for a few more minutes. At first, it was simply a time killer, waiting for your soft cock to get hard again. But as it flows, you feel like you get to know Kazuha more and more.

Slowly, your arousal returns, and Kazuha seems to notice that. It twitches in the expectation of another round.

“Oh, look at him~” she says softly. Her hand is drawn to touching you gently. You can’t help but giggle as she caresses your hard cock.

“Stand up, Zuha,” you command. You’re trying to sound stern, but the exchange earlier just softens your voice.

She complies immediately. Her toned legs are displayed elegantly in front of you. You stand up with her, taking the full view of her body on the way.

What a banger body.

“What’s next, boss?” Her words seem to want you to get this over with, but the small smile plastered on her face seems to say otherwise.

You pause, thinking for some witty response as you unbutton your shirt, revealing your out-of-shape body. You clearly have been eating too much. It’s a bit embarrassing.

What’s next?

“I want your bra off, Zuha.” Well, that’s far from witty.

“Thought you’d never ask that,” Kazuha playfully scoffs before taking off her tight sports bra. Her small breasts come into view, along with the taut nipples proudly sitting atop of them. She can’t wait for what’s next, so do you. The bra is then thrown away onto the floor. Her naked body stands proudly in front of you.

She’s nothing short of unreal—the pert breasts, the firm abs, the glistened pussy. She’s sculpted by a deity. And without a word, you push Kazuha onto the mirror, drawing out an airy moan from her. You press your body against hers, while her back is pressed against the wall.

She sucks a sudden. Her hands are trembling against the mirror. Her eyes are closed, enamored in the expectations of you inside of her cunt.

“F–Fuck, boss.”

“I know, Zuha. Now if you’d bend over for me.”

She quickly follows your orders, flipping her body around so that her back faces you. Your cock is pressed against her ass. You let out a hum in satisfaction.

You draw a line with your finger down her spine, making her suck in the air. Sweat from the earlier activity still lingers on her back. Her body quivers in pleasure. She’s submitting to you now.

“Goddd~” Kazuha groans. She’s at the mercy of your touch.

Your finger runs down the middle of her back, down her sculpted arch, to the ridge of her tight ass. She screams, as your finger makes contact with the outer of her puckered hole.

“Fuck!” Her whole body shakes erratically, overwhelmed by the pleasure you’re giving her. Her breathing grows restless.

“Slut,” you whisper the demeaning word into her ear. You’d argue that it fit her, with her being a whimpering mess under your touch.

You circle your finger around her asshole, heightening her moans. You feel the creased patch of skin on your finger, letting out a satisfied hum, but that’s not your main course. You then draw your finger down, touching her wet heat. Kazuha sucks a sudden, before you push your finger into her. 

Her cunt welcomes you easily. You swear that the wail coming out of her mouth is one of the best sounds you’ve ever heard. You watch her face become contorted in the mirror. She’s lost in the bliss you’re giving her.

You slowly push yourself into her pussy, burying yourself in the wet heat. Kazuha’s body shakes with pleasure. You insert your whole finger into her, before touching a rough patch inside her.

That’s where you make her collapse.

You curl your finger to touch her sensitive spot, and as expected, Kazuha lets out a sharp, sudden moan. Her legs are barely holding her up. She’s faltering, and you’re enjoying every second of it.

“F–Fuckkk~”

You double your efforts, stimulating where she needs the most. Your finger is engulfed by her tight, wet heat. She feels warm. You’re loving the way she feels around you. You’re loving the way she submits to you. You’re loving the way she fucking keens from your finger inside her. Fuck, you need even more.

You quicken the pace, and it is making her quiver uncontrollably. How she’s shuddering around you, how she moans. It’s just unreal for you. This is a once-in-a-lifetime experience. You couldn’t have found a better woman in your life who you’d find as angelic as Nakamura Kazuha.

“Goddamn it, Kazuha. You’re doing so fucking well for me,” you say, playing with her inner walls recklessly. She’s shaking under you. The sound of it is spurring you on. The smell of it is making you go feral. The sight of it is making you feel the power you’ve never felt before in your life.

“G–Gonna c–cum, boss,” she utters, mustering up any energy left to say it. Her eyes are rolling upwards now.

Then, you regretfully withdraw your finger out of her. The engulfing wet heat is now missing from your fingers. She groans in disappointment.

“What the fuck?” Her expression is on the line of anger.

You smirk at her through the reflection, sucking your finger lewdly. She’s salty. Still, that doesn’t seem to lighten up her mood.

“Goddamn it, you’re fucking insufferable,” she sneers, still pissed off by your sudden absence. You have other plans, at least.

“Stand still for me, please,” you say with unwavering calmness, getting a hold of her waist. You’re fucking her properly.

Her expression changes, realizing your next action. “Oh,” she utters.

And for the first time, you plunge yourself into her, feeling the way her tight, wet cunt hugs your cock. It feels so fucking ecstatic. The sensation pierces through your entire body like a spear. She keens loudly, and so do you. It echoes around the room that’s yours.

“Fucking hell–” you give her ass a harsh spank, she wails in the concoction of pain and pleasure “–you’re so fucking tight, Zuha.”

“Th–Thanks, boss,” she replies, as you slowly push your hardness inside her to the hilt. “Y–You’re big too.”

You chuckle, and you swear that it’s the most wicked laugh you’ve ever let out. Your thighs press against her ass, before you drag your hips back. Her tightness around you is making your cock throb, and you thrust back into her cunt. You grunt loudly, and so does she.

“Nghhh~” Kazuha groans, as you find your rhythm in plowing her pussy. You start fucking her properly this time with your cock, pounding into her with no abandon. She feels so good around you.

No words can describe the feeling of fucking Kazuha’s cunt. It’s something beyond your comprehension—the tightness of her alone, the power you’re holding over her, the sounds of her guttural grunts and groans and moans and whimpers. It’s just nothing short of unreal.

“D–Don’t you dare–ah–fucking pull out th–this time, boss,” she commands, trying to sound as stern as possible. Though, it comes out weakly, just like her limp body right now.

“What if I do, huh?” And you give her ass another loud spank. She whimpers. Her resolve falters. Her posture almost collapses.

“Hgngnn.” She can only let out a whimper as you kiss the vanilla skin of her neck. She’s salty from the sweat lingering on her body. Her scent pervades your nose violently. You swear that she’s like an aphrodisiac to you. It’s driving you feral. Her skin shines under the room's light beautifully, and you only wish you can just stay with her like this forever.

“B–Boss,” she mewls, her voice weak and lost.

“Yes, Zuha?” You’re still ramming into her with reckless abandon. Her tight cunt hugs your length perfectly, coaxing the cum out of your balls.

“Gonna–Gonna cum.”

You say nothing but upping your ante, pressing her harder into the mirror. Her tits are splayed on the wall. Her walls contract for you, drawing breathless moans out of your lips. Both of your mouths hang open in bliss. You both want this.

“Cum for me, Zuha, but don’t think this is over yet.” You give her rear another slap. The skin clashes against your hand. She wails, as you lean in for a whisper, “There’s another hole to be filled.”

“Hhgnn,” she grunts under the weight of your promise. Her arms go limp, both hanging just beside her pliant body. Her mind is filled with nothing but your cock inside her pussy.

And she cums for the second time today. Her walls contract around your cock, gripping you like a vice. She lets out a guttural groan from the depth of her lungs. Her right cheek is pressed against the mirror, painting it with her slick sweat.

“Fuck! Goddd~” she shouts loudly from the force of her violent orgasm. You relentlessly fuck her through the forceful orgasm, pulling groans and grunts out of her as much as possible.

Her orgasm subsides, leaving her shaking body as the evidence of it. Her pussy is still contracting around your cock. You slow down, and the other plan comes into play.

You pull your hard length out of her cunt. You’re all glistening in her juice now. It’s strange. You usually cum a lot faster than this. Though, with Kazuha, it’s like you can just go on and on forever.

You insert your fingers inside her pussy, making her entire body tremble in shock once more. You’re trying to gather her slick juice to smear your cock with any lubricant you can find. Your bottle is too far away from you right now (about fifteen floors away, under your table). The wetness of her cunt is really helping you here.

“What a slut,” you sneer at her, as she whimpers in response to the degrading name. “Look at you, all wet for me.”

“P–Please, boss,” she pleads, her voice shaken with unrelenting desire. Her body is trembling with unbridled anticipation.

“Please what, Zuha?”

“Please f–fuck my ass, I–I need it,” she whines, and you couldn’t be happier to fulfill her wish.

You rest your tip at the entrance of her ass—teasing, playing with her. She whines at the act, as if she really wants your cock inside her ass so fucking bad (she does). Your cock in all glistened in her slick juice, ready to fuck her rear hole raw.

And slowly, and carefully, you push your cock into her tightness, inch by inch. Her body trembles as you find yourself inside her once more. She cries out in bliss. The lubricant definitely helps.

“F–Fuck, nghhh.”

You respond to her moans by pushing ever further into her ass. Your body presses onto her more and more, feeling her damp back, gathering her sweat on your body. The warmth around your cock is just too much. She grips you like a vice. 

“Goddamn it, Zuha. Is this your first time in the ass?” you grunt. Your voice is raspy.

“Nghhh, n–no, boss. This is my second time, b–but I–I’ve never cum from that,” she whines. Her hands are pressed against the mirror harshly. You’ll have to be more gentle if you don’t want to break this expensive reflective wall.

You keep pushing and pushing, and finally, you are buried deep up to the hilt. The tightness of her ass is just unreal. A loud moan escapes your lips. Fuck, she’s tight, too tight.

You stay inside the depth of her ass for a few more seconds, feeling yourself inside of her tight ass. You’re hoping that she’s at least enjoying this a little bit.

She does, after all, moaning and writhing like that.

“You love this, don’t you, Zuha? You love having my cock inside your ass like this,” you taunt her, rewarding you with breathless whimpers and moans out of her lips.

“I–I love it, b–boss,” she answers, stuttered and shaken. The sensation is just too much for her. Your hands snake up her body to her small breast, a pair that’s unforgettable for you. You decide to give her nipples some soft treatment with your filthy hands, rubbing them between your fingers.

“Look at you, your nipples are all hard for me.” You run the sides of your fingers up and down her nipples, feeling them between your digits. She lets out guttural grunts and groans in pleasure. “What a goddamn slut.”

“Nghhn.”

After what feels like an eternity inside her ass—so warm, so tight—you draw your hips backwards. Her walls are grazing your cock, making the retreat so damn ecstatic. You pull back until half of your cock is out of her puckered hole, before pushing yourself back in. You let out primal moans with it.

“God, fuck!”

Her ass feels so tight, so right.

You start to find your pace in ravaging Kazuha’s ass. You set the rhythm in fucking her properly. The room reeks of sex, no matter how big it is. The only thing filling your nostrils right now is the smell of Kazuha’s sweat and something that screams her.

Your hands are still kneading Kazuha’s small breasts enthusiastically. Touching them fills you with unbridled joy. They feel so–soft, so–firm in your hands, as you plow into her ass with no abandon.

“Fucking love these tits, Zuha,” you utter. The words come out before you can suppress it. Your mind is filled with the sensation of fucking her ass and groping her tits. “So–soft, so–small.”

“Nghhh, th–thanks, boss,” she cries out, her voice feeling like she’s unable to make sense of what’s going on anymore. It’s just too overwhelming for her. Your cock inside her ass, your hands on her breasts, your smell, your grunts. It’s too much she might have hit the third peak of the day.

Her eyes flutter in bliss—that’s what you see in the mirror. She keens, and you love the way she does it. Her voice reeks of complete submission for you. Her smell is driving you insane. It’s making your grunts more raw, more primal, more animalistic.

You reach out to grab her face. You’re trying not to make it harsh. You don’t want to hurt her. Her moans are interrupted with a gasp. She’s shocked at the sudden contact on her face. She definitely is.

You move in for a kiss.

It’s sloppy, unrefined. There’s no tenderness in it, no romance, no lovey-dovey bullshit. Your hands are still freely groping Kazuha's breasts like they’re yours (they’re yours). Your tongue invades her mouth, gathering her taste. She’s definitely salty—all the sweat and such.

She finally catches the tempo of the kiss, finally holding on her own. Your tongues are now intertwined in a battle for dominance, trying to taste each other as much as possible. The sound of kissing rings inside your head. It’s far from romantic. It’s sloppy. It’s primal. It’s raw.

“Mmmph, fuck,” she utters as you’re still ramming into her ass. Occasional moans into your mouth can be heard. She finds pleasure in it, and you’re happy that she does.

And you pull back. A string of saliva is still connecting your mouths together. It’s vulgar. It’s obscene. That fits. You rest your forehead on Kazuha’s. It feels so intimate. You’re so close to her. You can feel the warmth emanating from her, see her sweat running down, see her pores, and you can only think to yourself: fuck, she really is an angel.

“I’ll get that solo for you, Zuha,” you say, forehead touching hers. Your mouth feels empty without her tongue. It feels great having her inside your mouth.

“B–Better keep th–that promise, boss,” she replies, voice barely holding itself together.  “I’ll fucking join aespa if it’s an empty one.”

You let out a chuckle. She definitely won’t do it, but it’s not like you’re flippant. 

“Sure. It’d be suck to lose another member,” you answer her with a smile. You’re trying to make it as sincere as you can.

You keep pounding into her ass, chasing both of your orgasms. Your hands roam down back to her small, slutty waist. Her breathing grows frantic. You can see the goosebumps on her arms. She’s close. She’s close.

“F–Fuck, a–again, gonna cum again,” she rasps. Her voice is barely holding itself together. Her walls contract around your cock.

Her dam breaks. Her nectar leaks out of her cunt onto the floor. Some of it spills onto your cock, some spill onto your feet. She lets out a primal grunt, spurring you on to fuck her ass with‌ even more roughness. You plow her puckered hole through her orgasm. She’s sensitive, but you don’t fucking care. You couldn’t care any fucking less. You have to cum inside Nakamura Kazuha’s ass.

You buck your hips into Kazuha with reckless abandon. Fuck the other women if they’re going to hear this. You’re more than willing to let them know who owns this angel. It’s you. It’s you. Your hands roam over every curve and contour of her body, feeling her smooth skin on your hand. You know it’s hyperbolic, but she’s nothing short of perfection.

Her moans remain guttural and raw. They’re echoing through this practice room, and you’re damn sure that no sounds can be as ethereal as that. Her body, god, her body, you are going to keep dreaming about it forever. Her ass feels utterly divine. She wraps your cock in a way that’s so damn flawless, and it’s like she was made for your cock and your cock only.

You can feel it. The rising current inside you. It runs through your body. It’s electric. It’s going to burst. You’re going to cum inside your employee’s ass, and you couldn’t have found any better situation to be in.

“Here’s what I’m going to do, Zuha,” you order. Your voice couldn’t be stronger than this. Your grips on her waist tighten. “I’m going to fucking cum inside your ass, and you’re going to take it like a good girl you are, alright?”

“Nghhngn, y–yes, boss,” she groans, her voice breaking into pieces. She’s broken already.

It’s there, that familiar feeling inside your loins. You quicken and quicken your pace, pounding into Kazuha’s ass with an unmatched aggression. Your cock is throbbing inside her, so ready to explode. Your breathing is erratic. It’s all culminating in this. You’re going to cum.

“Gonna–Gonna cum,” you grunt, thrusting into her as fast as you can. It’s there. It’s right fucking there.

“Fuck!”

You lose yourself for the second time of the day, this time inside Nakamura Kazuha’s ass. You can see stars. White spurts paint the inner walls of her. Your body convulses, shaking in bliss. You grunt loudly. Your cock twitches inside her rear hole. The way she keens rings inside your ear as she feels the cum paint her walls. Fuck.

Your cock keeps shooting ropes and ropes of cum into her ass. It feels utterly divine, the way her ass hugs your cock so damn tightly. You press Kazuha against the wall, trapping her in your embrace, forcing her to take all of your cum. She screams in pure pleasure. 

“Fuck,” you groan, as you slowly come down from the earth-shattering orgasm you just had. Both of you are panting in exhaustion. It was tiring. It was mind-breaking.

You drag your spent cock out of her tight ass. Both of you groan in oversensitivity. Cum slowly leaks out of her ass. You’re all limp, and so is she.

Kazuha still can’t seem to catch her breath. She turns around to face you, face all flushed, mouth hanging open before slowly retreating onto the floor. She’s exhausted, and so are you.

You look down to face her. Your hands are resting on the wall, trying to hold you up with all the forces they have left. Your cock is all sore from the act, and you’re going to need a good sleep after this.

“God,” she utters, smiling. “That was–that was fun, huh?”

“Y–Yeah, that was fun,” you reply with a chuckle. The mood lightens up. The lust earlier is now replaced by comfort. You feel the air thinning. It’s not as tense as before.

You sit down next to Kazuha, head resting on the mirror. The trace of her body can be seen on the wall. It’s imprinted, dirty. You don’t really care. Let the staff see it.

You look around the room, trying to cool down from the debauchery, before Kazuha rests her head on your shoulder. You feel the unfamiliar warmth from her head. It’s–comforting.

“Promise me you’ll get me that solo.” She brings up her pinky finger.

It wasn’t supposed to be much more than a currency. Robotic. Mechanical. Transactional. Though, as you experience through it, you somehow find retreat in it. The act, even if as rough as it was, brings out the side you’ve never seen in her, and something you thought you’d never shown to anyone else. It’s weirdly comforting to you. And maybe, just maybe, the two of you might look forward to another encounter where you fuck her brainless again, and you might learn a few more things about her, and she’d share more of her with you, being each other’s solace against the world.

“I promise.”

—

[yougavememyopia]

Crybaby yandere, whose teardrops you could collect in a big jar. He wasn't good at many things — styling his messy tangled hair, fixing his wrinkled and untidy clothes — he sucked at taking care of himself. Bawling his eyes out after failing to do a simple task.

He knew he was pathetic. A whiny useless mess. He was miserable enough, and then he had to fall in love with you. His attempts at wooing you always ended up a huge failure. Even before speaking about his feelings, he'd taste the salty droplets pouring down.

So he resorted to stalking you. His glistening eyes watching you throughout the day. He wasn't very subtle. You could hear his footsteps, his sniffling — he wasn't very good at being sneaky. It was obvious that he was following you around like a lost child.

He was quick to sob no matter what kind of reaction you showed him. A smile, a frown, a glare. No matter what you did, he'd still cried a river. You were confused. Confused what he was always blubbering about. Not understanding his incoherent sentences.

"I-I just... hic… y-you're all I have… hic… I-I c-can’t—hic… I’m so s-stupid!"

You'd tell him to slow down and breathe. Rubbing his back or petting his head. You had to hug him tightly, feeling his tears soaking your clothes as his shoulders slowly stopped shaking.

You wondered how a person like him could exist — so melancholic, in need of tender loving care. (And more importantly, if he was dehydrated or not. You were really concerned.)

You had to admit; you loved seeing his face after his crying died down. Puffy eyes. Quivering pout. Red nose. You had no idea what he was even crying about, but it felt nice to see his slight smile after when you hand him a chocolate bar.

He managed to eventually speak with you normally thanks to your kindness. He wanted to do better for you. He wanted to be better for you.

That didn't stop his creepy side from taking over. He'd steal your things. Anything that had a scent of you on them soothed him. A t-shirt of yours that he could wear to bed. A pillow with the smell of you lingering in it.

He was a weirdo. He knew that, and he felt so guilty for all he did. All those items he took without permission. Just to have small pieces of you with him that he took comfort in.

He couldn't sleep. He couldn't eat. He couldn't drink. He felt sick. Lovesick. He longed for your touch; your gentle arms wrapping around him and telling him everything was going to be okay.

He didn't stop the tears from rolling down his cheeks. Blinking them to clear his sight; your house coming into view. He longed to see you. Craved to be with you. Not caring about how late it was.

He broke into your room. Legs wobbling and head spinning. Seeking the right room. You jolted awake, screaming at the touch of the unknown shadow looming over you.

“I d-didn’t mean to s-scare you… hic… I just wanted to s-see you. Please-please don't look at me like I'm a m-monster..”

You sighed in relief when you heard the familiar sob. His shaking body immediately falling onto yours. Arms snaked around your midriff, face buried deep in your neck. He panted hot breaths, your body shivering in response. His hands clutching your shirt with panic.

You shushed him, breathing in the shampoo from his hair. Slightly groggy after being awakened from a deep slumber, you managed to open your mouth to speak. "Don't cry... Mmh... Wait, how'd you know where I lived?"

"I can't- can't take it a-anymore! Hic… I need you to t-take, hic, care of me. I neeeed you to! I can't.. I can't live without you. Hic!"

He shifted to the other side of the bed. Wasting no time to bury his face in your chest instead. It belonged there. Right where he could hear your heartbeat. You felt him nuzzle into you — his cheek rubbing your side and his fingers grazing right under your ribs. He was whining and moaning about how useless and terrible he was.

"Please, t-take me. Love... hic, love me! I want to be yours! Please? Hic. I dunno know if- If I can do anything without you."

He was starting to be less hysteric — when enveloped by your warmth and scent, he felt safe. The last tears dripped down his chin into the fabric of your shirt. Your entangled fingers in his hair enough to make him go quiet.

Your hummed filled the silence. "I don't know what to say, this is all so sudden. I mean, there's so many things wrong with this situation."

"But-but... You let me latch onto you." He groaned as he looked up at you. "I wanna be next to you through whatever you do. Wanna be yours. Please? I'll try not to become a b-burden if that's what you're worried about."

You closed your eyes. His mind was set on convincing you that the two of you should be together already. He whimpered at the loss of your hand in his hair. "Are-are you mad at me? Do you hate... me?"

You could feel a new storm coming, so you quickly shushed him. "No, no. It's just really late." You used your free hand to cover your yawn. "Let's just sleep, yeah? Too sleepy to think."

"Oh. Mmhm, yeah." His chest warmed up at your suggestion. You turned to your side to hug him properly. A leg pressed on his hip and an arm around his upper torso. "G'night."

He stiffened at first but then relaxed as the realization sank in. You were holding him like a body pillow. He never felt more loved. Whispering "I love you" and "I'm yours" until he fell asleep with you.

[twomanyfandomshelp]

Thanks for the tag!

Last Song: Would You Fall In Love With Me Again from Epic the Ithaca Saga (AHHHHH OH MY GOD THE ITHACA SAGA IS SO GOOD I LOVE IT SO MUCH I CRIED SO MUCH DURING THE LISTENING PARTY BUT THAT’S BESIDES THE POINT JORGE IS A GENUIS AND I’M SO HAPPY WE GOT TO HEAR THE END BUT SO SAD IT’S OVER BUT I KNOW THIS IS ONLY THE BEGINNING)

Sorry about that

Favorite Color: Pink 🩷

Last Book: No One Can Know I Don’t Like Sex: An Aromantic-Asexual Humor Comic by AKHTS (aka @/bloggingboutburgers)

Last Movie: Red One

Last TV Show: Pop Culture Jeopardy (didn’t know that was a thing until the other night, pretty fun, me and my family are definitely better at it than regular Jeopardy)

Sweet/Spicy/Savory: Sweet

Relationship Status: In a Queer Platonic Relationship

Last Thing I Googled: Who is the richest man in the world (it says Jeff Bezos, but then when you google how much he makes it’s like 200 billion something and then Elon Musk makes like 400 billion so I think my Siri is just wrong)

Current Obsession: Epic the Musical, Wildlife SMP, and Impossible Minecraft SMP

Looking Forward To: Going to Florida to see my family for the week after Christmas (the 27th to the 31st) and getting to see my partner on Friday before my family leaves for Florida!

@sushis-mylifeee @ivys-garden @thekingofworems @the-stars-are-ineffable @kingofdandelions @sushi1056 @nyx-of-darkness-1620 @aaronofithaca05 @theghostnamedspecter @rubbercrowy @imobsessedwiththeatre @donutsalami @azoperoa @theylovewinnie @rosegoldenatlas @chaoticrei @moutainrusing @cherrytea556 @harley-the-pancake @thatstevenuniversegay @forest-city @chaotic-agender @alphabetical-az @janru-writer @fallenrain40 @shamelesswolfstarshipper @jarondont @magicalmyths @a-fucking-tornado @poppitron360 @neilarissa @theoneandonlypatches @theconfusedbookshrimp @shellywith2ls @yourlocalbadgerscales @g0blinm0d3 @stargazing-with-friends @nyx-taylors-version @lezberrycake @codexnuminous @little-goblin-in-the-forest @whimsicalwordsmith53 @spiderboi-parker @nyyx-xoxx @scarletbeast + anyone else who wants to join in!

people i'd like to know better tag game!

tagged by @endof-vanity thank uuu ^-^

last song: ... everybody wants to rule the world by tears for fears

favourite colour: green!!!! :DD

last book: last book i properly finished was the name of the rose by umberto eco :'] i have my fingers in too many others

last movie: megalopolis! it was shit <3

last tv show: nbc's hannibal in 2021 LMAO but i am watching amc's the terror. or trying to

sweet/spicy/savoury: savoury!! i would say spice if i was better at it </3

relationship status: single >.<

last thing i googled: 50bc attalus. lol. and a directory for a mall at the same time

current obsession: m...my catie,,,, self explanatory i don't have to justify myself. also monks. reading a monklove book,,,

looking forward to: going out with my friends this sunday! maybe going overseas next june! yippee :3

tagging: @quia-nominor--leo @enlitment @monksexualizer @xxmarvelouslifexx @courtjester69420 if you'd like to doooo itttt <3

[reginamillls]

I Saw My Uncle Kissing Santa Claus

"You really gotta tell him man," Tommy hears Howie's voice coming into the kitchen from the hall. He's about to come in, but the answering voice makes Tommy stop.

"I know," Evan says, sounding odd. "I can't keep this a secret for much longer, it will just make things awkward for Tommy. He needs to be prepared for whats to come."

Tommy's brows furrow at that, and his palms feel sweaty all the sudden-

Things were going good between them, slow sure, but better then it was before. Stronger. This is their first Christmas together since their last one was spent apart and Tommy-

Is overthinking.

Tommy steps into the kitchen then and is met with two identical looks of surprise.

He's been caught.

"No time like the present, hey Buck," Howie grins as he claps Buck on the back before walking past Tommy. Howie then winks at Tommy, and any thoughts he had to worry melt away.

"You know you should really be the one to tell him-" Evan starts but Howie interupts him.

"You owe me big time, good luck, thank you!" Howie sing songs before he's stepping out of the kitchen, leaving a pouting Evan behind.

Tommy decides he just has to kiss that pout and Evan smiles against his lips before grabbing at Tommy's waist and bringing him in for a deeper kiss.

"You're-" A kiss. "Stalling."

"Okay," Evan admits. "I have something to tell you, and ah - I guess, I guess ask of you to." He starts, rambling. "And it-it's kinda cute?"

"Cute?" Tommy asks, raises a brow. "What-"

"Jee thinks you're Santa." Evan blurts out and Tommy's eyes widen.

Out of all the things he expected, that wasn't one of them.

"She. Thinks. I'm. Santa."

"Yup." Evan pops the 'p' at the end.

"Um, why?" Tommy asks, and he's leaning against the counter now, confused at the turn of events.

"She has a list," Evan says and he pulls it out of his pocket to present it to Tommy. The piece of paper has Jee-Yun all over it, from the stickers of every genre to the glittery writing. It makes Tommy smile when he looks at it.

"Why Tommy is Santa-" Evan starts and he clears his throat, being a little dramatic.

"One. He flies." Evan starts and Tommy nods his head.

"I do fly-"

"And so does Santa," Evan pokes at Tommy's chest. "Can I continue?" Tommy makes a motion to do so, and Evan lifts the list off again to read it off.

"Two. Tommy took us to see reindeer, and Santa has reindeer." That was true, Tommy knew a guy who worked for the zoo and was on a team that was rehibiliating some reindeer. Tommy had taken Jee and Evan there a few weeks ago.

"Three. He has a long red coat." That one was a stretch, but Tommy wouldn't argue against it. He had a long wool coat for when he camps out in the mountains, and it was indeed red, though it was a more muted shade then he thought Santa would wear. Jee had seen it last week when she had been over for the night with her brother to give Maddie and Howie a night off.

"Four - and this is where it gets cute," Evan says, completely fond of both his niece and his boyfriend. "He has a big smile and he laughs and makes people happy."

"That's sweet," Tommy says, blushing. He ducks his head and Evan steps closer into his bubble, wrapping his arms around Tommy.

"There's more, like how you always remember what kind of gifts people want and ah-" Evan pauses briefly something that happens sometimes whenever their breakup came into the conversation. "You were gone last Christmas, and I think she thought you were busy."

"Being Santa." Tommy huffs, shakes his head. "Better than what actually happened."

They've talked about it, how Tommy threw himself into work to cope with everything. It wasn't healthy, but he's working on it.

Evan nods his head and the hand on Tommy's waist squeezes.

"She still believes," Evan says. "And with the baby this year, I think she feels a little left out. So when they got into Christmas folklore at school, I think she latched onto the idea that you were Santa. It's why she's been so shy today."

"Okay," Tommy nods his head. He gets it. Believing in something when things were a little difficult could get you through hard times. His old man had told him the truth about Santa when he had been young, and Tommy didn't have that little bit of Christmas magic growing up.

"Do you want me to tell her I'm not?" Tommy asks, undure what they should do here. Evan shakes his head then and Tommy relaxes.

"Chimney and Maddie want to talk to her about it, they just didn't want you to think she was ignoring you-" Evan grins. "I think she's trying to be on the good list. I've never seen her room so clean."

Tommy huffs out a laugh at that. He had thought it was a little strange that Jee hadn't come running to them for a hug when they came, but he figured that she was just being quiet for her brother's sake.

"And what list are you on?" Tommy asks Evan, voice low as his eyes dart over Evan. The other man snorts out a laugh then before he pulls Tommy in for a kiss.

"I think I've been on the good list, Santa-" Evan whispers in Tommy's ear.

Tommy tries.

He really does, but he lasts about two seconds before he bursts into laughter. Evan joins him then, and it feels good, laughing with his boyfriend.

"Uncle Buck?" Tommy hears, and he sees the very person they were talking about coming into the kitchen. "Can we play cowboys and princesses and aliens?" She asks and Evan straightens away from Tommy and he gestures as if he's wearing a cowboy hat, tipping it to Jee and the girl giggles in return.

"I reckon the Princess Cowboys have a lot to do before Christmas Evan tomorrow." Evan says in an exxagerated southern accent.

Tommy is completely charmed by him.

"Are you too busy to play Uncle Tommy?" Jee asks and Tommy feels like his heart skips a beat.

That was the first time Jee has ever called him 'Uncle.'

"Yeah, that sounds fun. Can I be a Princess?" Tommy asks and follows Jee and Evan back into the living area.

He prefers Unlce to Santa, anyday.

[starsinthesky5]

nothings gonna hurt you baby II part 2 || 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: MERRY CHRISTMAS!! oh my goodness i am so sorry this took so SO long to get out! i really hope this was worth the (painful) wait!. this is flashback heavy with smutty smut smut, angst, and adorable fluffy fluffiness 😍 as a reminder, this is after the week two loss against KC. (yeah, i know this took me like 3 months)

warnings: angst, language, SMUT. MDNI.

songs listened to while writing: sailor song : gigi perez, nothings gonna hurt you baby : cigarettes after sex, you’re the only good thing in my life : cigarettes after sex, sweet nothing : taylor swift, slow hands : niall horan, nasty : ariana grande, look after you : the fray, die for you - the weeknd, call it what you want : taylor swift, teenage dream : katy perry 

word count: 48 k (sorry. i know. im sorry)

NGHYB masterlist  ||  part 1 → (read FIRST as this is a continuation of it)

taglist: (ask to be added): @joeyfranchise @joeys-babe @joeyb1989 @softburrow @burrowbarbie @yelenasbraid @lovelyburrow @majestic87

and a special thanks to @sofferaddict for a bunch of these ideas :)

---------------------------------------------

“Hmph,” you mumbled as you jolted awake, a small gust of cold air slipping through the room, sending a chill down your spine. Your eyes quickly fluttered open at the sudden sensation, but the darkness that enveloped the room was thick, making it difficult for you to make anything out in the unlit room. 

You shifted slightly to shake off the grogginess, but all you could see was the glow of the alarm clock on the nightstand. You squinted at the time–3:21 a.m.–which made your stomach churn. You never woke up like this in the middle of the night; you were always a heavy sleeper. Nothing could wake you once you passed out cold–not glass shattering, not a fire, not a hurricane, and certainly not a cool breeze. It had been a mildly concerning yet adorable habit you had since college, a habit Joe discovered when one night, the fire alarms went off in his apartment building and you couldn’t be more unbothered while his building was at risk of burning down. 

Flashback to LSU

Beep-Beep. Beep-Beep. Beep-Beep.

“What the fuck?” Joe mumbled, flipping around in the shower as he wiped the water droplets off his face before slicking his hair back, his brows furrowing at the sudden & strange noise he heard.

Beep-Beep.

“The hell is that noise?” he said again while looking around the shower walls as if the noise was coming from inside of them, “Wait, do I have an alarm set?” he asked himself, then peeked out from the shower curtain to see if his phone was the source of the annoying beeping noise–which it wasn’t. 

BEEP-BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

“Why the fuck is it getting louder?” Joe grumbled as he let go of the curtain and turned the water off before stepping out of the shower in a hurry. He reached for his towel, carelessly wrapping it around his waist while the water dripped from his golden hair and trailed down his muscular back as he moved around in the bathroom to try to find the source of the sound that had disrupted his much-needed post-game shower. 

“Can I not shower in peace?” he complained as he looked aimlessly for the source of the sound in the vanity drawers, medicine cabinet, and even the air vent. “It’s not coming from in here…,” he said a few seconds later before his eyes met the door, then his brain wandered to what...or who was outside of the door. “Hm, she better not have burnt something in the kitchen,” he laughed to himself, imagining you in his kitchen, half naked & half asleep, accidentally setting off the smoke detector while trying to make a late-night snack. But before he could let his imagination wander off too much, the beeping grew louder and he was snapped back to the present. 

He swung the bathroom door open, fully prepared to get a whiff of burnt food at full force. But instead of a smell, the noise hit him with full force, and it was blaring through his entire apartment.  “Shit,” he mumbled under his breath as his eyes trailed up to the flashing red light coming from his ceiling, his heart dropping once he realized what was actually happening. 

There was a fire in his building. 

There was no burnt food in the kitchen. 

There was a fire. 

That was the fire alarm’s sound. 

His eyes then fell to his bed where you were curled up against his pillows, completely unbothered by the piercing alarm above you. A soft smile tugged at the corners of your lips, almost as if you were caught in a dream that was so intense and lively that your body’s alert system was asleep too.

“Unreal,” he muttered, shaking his head out of amusement. It wasn’t as if the alarm sound was coming from down the hall, it was right above you–yet you still managed to stay asleep. “She’s actually sleeping through this?” he chuckled while walking over to your side of his bed. He placed a hand on your arm, gently shaking you while using his other hand to move your hair out of your face, “Y/N? Baby?” he whispered softly. 

“…Mmm,” you hummed in your sleep as you dug your head into his pillow even further, still so caught in the dream you were having to realize Joe was crouched down beside you and his hand was on your arm.

“Lovey? Wake up?” he whispered again, his voice soft and tender, this time using the nickname that he knew made you melt into a pile of goo which usually resulted in a lazy smile or adorable eye bat–but this time didn’t. The only response Joe got was the calm rise and fall of your chest as you stayed in your deep slumber–and the realization of how deeply you were sleeping made his heart squeeze. He really didn’t want to wake you up; you were sound asleep, in his bed, in the comfort of his space, and he didn’t want to pull you from your dream-filled oasis like this. 

Joe let out a sigh before shaking his head, “I don’t want to scare her by waking her up too roughly. But how do I get her up? We need to get out before the building burns down, that’s if there even is a legit fire,” he thought to himself, glancing from your precious face to the flashing alarm above you. It could be a false alarm, but it could also be the real deal. He wasn’t going to risk it, especially because of you, so you both really needed to get going. Shaking you wasn’t doing anything, and saying your name clearly wasn’t cutting through the haze that had you wrapped up in your dreams. So what could he do?

After spending a few seconds thinking of ways to wake you without startling you, a gentle voice entered his head—primarily because he remembered the movie you made him watch last night back at your place. It was one of your all-time favorites, a classic fairytale with an enchanted sleep and a true love’s kiss breaking the spell. He teased you over and over for your choice, but you urged him to watch it with you, claiming it was the perfect comfort movie to watch with your one true love. 

“And from this slumber you shall wake, when true love's kiss, the spell shall break,” the voice in his head recited which happened to be your voice. 

“I am her one true love,” he shrugged as he thought over the silly line from the fairytale you were so cutely obsessed with. “Alright, let’s see if this fairytale logic actually works,” he then smiled as he looked at you for a few more seconds, your captivating beauty making the sound of the alarm fade into the background; you really were a real-life Sleeping Beauty. You were his Sleeping Beauty. He couldn’t help but chuckle softly to himself, realizing that life had its own unique way of imitating art in the strangest moments. 

He leaned down and pressed his soft lips against yours, feeling the warmth of your breath against him as he felt himself getting lost in your touch. 

Kissing you was something he could never get tired of. Joe wouldn’t hesitate to spend the entire day curled up in bed with you, cradling your face and dropping gentle, sometimes passionate, kisses on your lips if he was given the chance. He was like a needy baby whenever it came to kissing you–he always needed that bit of closeness and he just couldn’t get enough no matter how much you gave. Whenever this closeness was taken from him, he’d give you the same tempting pout and those puppy-dog eyes that made your heart melt. It was his way of saying that he needed you, that even the smallest distance between you two was too far for his liking. He was never like this with any of his previous girlfriends, there was just something so comforting and fulfilling about you, something that made him feel at home. And he wanted to feel at home all the damn time if he had the opportunity to. 

After holding the kiss for a few seconds, he gently pulled away with a smile and was met with the sight of your lashes fluttering—meaning it worked. “A true love’s kiss,” he smirked, brushing his thumb against your soft cheek, “I guess it does work every time,”. 

You moved around in his silk sheets for a few seconds, trying to chase the last bit of your dream before your eyes eventually fluttered open. The piercing sound of the alarm filled your ears and the sight of Joe crouched over you made your heart skip a beat. “Wha- What,” you whispered, your voice groggy and your brain still clouded from sleep. “Joey?” your eyebrows wrinkled in confusion as you tried to understand what was happening.  

“Hey, baby,” he whispered gently, trying not to startle you. 

“What’s going on?” you whined, trying to rub the sleep away from your eyes as your head began pounding due to the alarm’s relentless beeping. 

He spoke softly, trying to keep you calm, “Hey, it’s okay, just wake up for me, alright? There’s a fire alarm going off and we need to get outta here,” he explained. 

Your once-sleepy eyes flashed with urgency at the mention of the word fire. “Fire? There’s a fire?” you shrieked in panic as you instantly sat up in the bed. The adrenaline hit you like a wave, washing away any lasting remnants of your sleep.   

“I don’t know for sure, but we need to get outside in case there is,” he said while he stepped back to give you room to stand up.

“O- Okay,” you nodded as you quickly slipped out from the covers and scrambled to slip your shoes on and fix your hair. 

After you got yourself together, he grabbed your hand and started leading you through his apartment, heading toward the door, but as he reached for the handle, you pulled him back. “Wait!” you shrieked, your grip tightening around his hand. 

“What?” he responded after flipping his head back to look at you. “What’s wrong?”. 

You gave him a quick look up and down, waiting to see if he would notice himself, but Joe always had a habit of being adorably clueless even in the most urgent moments. “You’re still in a towel, Joey,” you giggled, watching as his eyes widened and dropped down to his lower half, realizing he was indeed still in his towel. 

“Oh,” he blinked before looking back up at you like a deer caught in headlights, the thought of stepping out in front of everyone basically naked was mortifying for him, and the mental image of that made him want to die. “I just…Let me just-...,” he nervously stammered.  

“Yeah,” you nodded with a soft giggle before giving him a playful shove back to his room. “No girl needs to see my man naked–even if it’s partially–except for me,” you yelled, earning a playful smirk from him before he disappeared into his room. 

A few seconds later, he returned wearing his familiar purple LSU football shorts and a plain black shirt. “I wonder if everyone thinks we’re dead? We’re taking our sweet time which is completely defeating the purpose of that annoying ass alarm,” you chuckled as you turned around and reached for the door handle. But before you could open the door, you felt Joe grab your other hand and yank you back from the door. 

“Wait!” he shrieked, almost as loud as you did a few moments ago. 

“What?” you said, looking back at him with a concerned expression. 

Joe lowered his head, sending you a look as he raised his eyebrows, “You forgetting something?” he asked you, giving you a once over just like you did to him. 

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “No? I don’t think so?”. 

You watched as his eyes fell to your lower half, your eyes following his gaze and your confusion still evident. “I’m not letting you out there with no pants on,” he huffed, folding his arms over his chest with a determined look on his face. 

Once you realized what he was talking about, you shook your head and rolled your eyes at his silliness, “Joe, your shirt is like a dress on me and I have panties on,”. 

“Y/N…Nobody, and I mean nobody, needs to get a peek at what’s under your shirt other than me,” he shook his head, his tone and posture similar to one of a protective dad. 

“It’s not even windy,” you shot back. “I’m not gonna have a Marylin moment, trust me,”. 

He shook his head and placed his hands on your shoulders, flipping you around and playfully pushing you back towards his room as you did to him, “Put some sweats on, or no more me helping you shave your legs in the shower,” he whispered in your ear, his voice playful and full of teasing.

Your eyes widened, “You wouldn’t dare,” you gasped. 

“Oh, but I would,” he responded with a dangerous smirk, making the alarms go off in your head. Whenever Joe said he would do something, he always did it and this should be no different.  

Joe was the absolute perfect boyfriend, and nobody could ever come close to the standard he set for you. No ordinary guy would offer to help his girlfriend shave her legs, but the first time you and Joe showered together, he did. It was a simple gesture, but it meant the world to you, especially because you always wanted to look perfect for him even though you knew he could care less about a few hairs on your leg. He knew how annoying it was for a girl to shave her legs–getting every spot without accidentally nicking herself–so he took it upon himself to help you out when he could. He was so gentle with you, so undeniably caring and sweet, always handling you like you were something as valuable as the koh-i-noor diamond. It’s the way he reached out to you with little acts of love that spoke louder than words. His words were already so powerful but his actions sealed the deal every time. You often wondered what you did to deserve him, someone who cared enough to make the smallest struggles feel a little lighter. 

“Okay, Okay,” you said while throwing your hands in the air and hurrying into his room to grab your sweatpants before he acted on his silly threat. “I am never going back to shaving my legs alone, mm mm,” you shook your head as you stumbled around to slip your sweats on, leaving Joe laughing in the hallway. Even though you were just talking about never going back to shaving your legs alone, that line had a deeper meaning in your heart. 

You didn’t want to go back to shaving alone, but you really just didn’t want to go back to anything in your life that was ‘Pre-Joe’.  

You thought your life before you met him was as good as it would get, but you couldn’t have been more wrong. You thought you were genuinely happy before you met him–comfortable with your post-breakup life, satisfied with your typical, redundant daily routine, pleased with how simple your life was. But when you met Joe, you saw that although simplicity and predictability were safe, the thrill was exciting. The thrill was worth living for.

Joe was the thrill you didn’t know you needed. 

The way he loved you–both physically and emotionally–was unlike anything you’d experienced before. When you first felt the effects of his love for you, you were shocked. He did things that you didn’t think were typical in a relationship. He took the time to learn what made you feel cared for, what made you laugh, and what made you feel adored in ways you never thought to ask for. He was attentive to the smallest details–things you never thought anyone would notice. He knew exactly how you liked to have your coffee with that specific splash of oat milk–-early on in your relationship during the ‘talking stage’ he would show up at your doorstep with your coffee from your favorite breakfast cafe so he could save you the trip and walk you to class. He’d also notice the way your nose scrunched when you tried to hide a laugh, the way you’d fidget with your birthstone ring when you got anxious, and the way you always needed a few extra moments of quiet, cuddling time with him before he had to leave you to go to practice (but to be honest, that was mostly for Joe. If you were clingy, he was clingier).

He took all the time in the world to understand not just your habits and tendencies, but also your beautiful heart. He learned what made you feel cared for–like how you preferred to be held tightly during a storm because you secretly were scared of thunder, or how you always liked to have a hand to squeeze during scary parts of a slasher movie you begged him to watch with you. He even memorized your laugh, knowing exactly what to do to bring it out–whether it was through his silly dance moves or sarcastic and sometimes suggestive comments he’d make during your late-night conversations. 

He treated this like it was something bigger than just a college relationship, he didn’t treat you like you were just his girlfriend, he treated you like you were his partner, his other half, his favorite person ever. He made you feel so secure, leaving absolutely no room for doubt in the relationship. You were the first person he wanted to tell about his day, the first one he thought of when something exciting happened for him, and the first person he’d go to when he just needed comfort after a rough game. He made you feel like you were worth every ounce of effort he put into your relationship, and that was a feeling you hadn’t known before. 

He’d spend the night with you even after a gruesome and exhausting practice or game, just because he wanted to spend time with you and it didn’t matter if he was tired or feeling upset. He’d leave you little notes around your apartment, each one filled with words that made your heart flutter (some of them even a little silly and corny because well, that was just Joe). It was those quiet moments between you as well–when he’d run his fingers through your hair when you felt stressed, or the way he would absentmindedly pull you closer at night in his sleep because he needed to feel you. He made you feel like you were an essential part of his life, and not just a chapter in it. He made you believe that love wasn’t just about being content; it was about finding someone who made the ordinary feel extraordinary.

He showed you that love wasn’t about grand gestures, it was about consistency. It was about those little, everyday actions that showed he was always thinking of you. And this was a feeling you hadn’t felt before with any other guy. A love that didn’t waver with time, but deepend. After getting a taste of what he had to offer, you just couldn’t go back to what life was like before you met him. He brought out a side of you that you didn’t even know existed. A version of yourself that laughed a little louder and lived a little bolder. And even though you had only been together for a short period, the way you felt about him was so intense. It felt like the connection you had with him was deeper than the usual of a new relationship, almost as if your souls already met in another lifetime and you were just catching up on lost time in this life. 

—

After finally getting yourself together, you ran back out to Joe, who gave you an energetic nod of approval. “Better?” you teased, rolling your eyes with a tiny smile.

“Much, Much better,” he grinned, making you chuckle before he reached for the door and finally swung it open. 

He stayed close behind you, one hand resting on your back as he led you through the hallway and to the fire escape stairs. “Thank god you’re not super high up. My slow ass would be long gone if I had to go down more than 3 flights of stairs,” you joked as he opened the door to the stairs.

Joe laughed softly as the two of you moved down the stairs, the echoes of your footsteps mixing with the distant alarm. “Mmm, I don’t think so. I’d be your knight in shining armor, just casually scooping you up and getting you out of danger without breaking a sweat,”.

You shot him a playful glance, “Yeah, I’d probably sleep through half of it too if you carried me. Wake up when it’s all over and ask what happened,”.

He grinned, giving your back a gentle pat as you reached the final set of stairs, “Honestly, I wouldn’t mind. You’re cuter than normal when you’re all sleepy like this,” he said, his voice warmer as he stole another glance at you, your drowsiness clear even in this chaotic moment.

You nudged him with your shoulder, “You just like having an excuse to show off those muscles,” you teased, but deep down, you knew how much you appreciated his instinct to protect you, even when things were shaky.

“Maaaybe,” he said while scratching the back of his neck, “But I think I love you point one percent more,” he teased, quickening his pace to reach the ground floor and swinging the door open just in time to avoid your playful swat at him.

“Joseph Lee!” you yelled, your voice a mix of playful annoyance and amusement as you swatted at his back, both of you stumbling out of the fire escape and into the lobby of his apartment building. 

He let out a laugh before placing his arm around your shoulder and leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering against your skin for a moment, “Kidding. I love you 100% more than anything in the world, including my muscles,” he smiled. 

“Good. I don’t like sharing you or your love,” you nodded, pressing a warm kiss to his neck as you felt his grip around you tighten.

“You won’t have to, lovey. I’m all yours,” he said in a way that made your heart melt. It felt like you two were just in your own bubble, shielded from all the chaos around you as you relished the comfort and warmth that radiated off each of you. 

But that bubble quickly popped when a loud, familiar voice called out from across the lobby. “There y'all are!” Ja’marr yelled from the entrance of the apartment building, a smirk on his face as he took note of how wrapped up you two were in each other’s arms. “I thought you guys died or some shit,” he folded his arms and shook his head like a concerned older brother, clearly relieved but ready to tease the two of you.

Joe waved him off, rolling his eyes with a grin, “Nah, man, just taking our time. We had to have a dramatic exit, you know? Keep everyone on edge,” he said on the way to where Ja’marr was standing.

You couldn’t help but laugh as you leaned into Joe a little more, “Sorry for the scare. We just had a…uh, slight wardrobe malfunction,” you joked. 

“Mmm,” Joe said while tilting his head, “It was a little more than a wardrobe malfunction, babe,” his playful tone made you roll your eyes again.

Ja’marr shook his head while mumbling something to himself before speaking up, “Wardrobe malfunction? Oh, you guys weren’t like…you know…,” he trailed off, raising an eyebrow to drive his point home.

You and Joe stared at him in mutual confusion as you tried to make sense of what he was insinuating. Even though you were still a little sleepy, it clicked in your head a few seconds later, “Oh, no. God, no,” you chuckled, your body shaking with the force of your laughter. 

Joe looked between you and Ja’marr, clearly confused, “I’m lost,” he said, his eyebrows wrinkling as he watched the two of you giggle. 

“He thought we were too busy, you know…busy doing a little something-something to notice the alarm,” you smirked, nudging his side with your elbow. 

“...Oh,” Joe said while raising his eyebrows in realization. He leaned in closer to you as a grin rose on his face, “I mean. That probably would’ve happened after my shower. The alarm ruined our plans,” he sheepishly grinned. 

“Okayyyyy,” Ja’marr groaned, throwing his hands in the air dramatically. “You two need to stop spending the night at each other’s places every day. Y'all too young to have children,”. 

“Hey, we do a lot more than just…uh…stay in bed all the time,” Joe laughed.

“Do we though?” you interrupted with a pat to his muscular chest. 

“You’re not helping,” Joe whispered in your ear with a smile before going back to his conversation with Ja’marr. “Anyyyway, Ms. Sleeping Beauty over here is mostly the reason why we took so long. She was legit sleeping through the entire thing and my fire alarm is right above my bed if that puts this into perspective,”. 

Ja’marr shook his head, his expression showing his disbelief and amusement all at once, “Man, I don’t know how y’all do it. Most people would be out the door in a heartbeat but you two over here in ya own little world,”

Joe just shrugged, giving you a quick and proud glance, “Guess we just roll that way, bro,”.

“Now y'all are lucky this was just a drill. Real fire and y'all was boutta be cooookeddd,” he ridiculed playfully before giving you two a wave as he walked backward to where the rest of the apartment tenets were gathered. 

“This was a drill,” you choked as you and Joe followed Ja’marr out to the parking lot where everyone was, your eyes moving up to Joe who was just as surprised as you. “What the fuck. I should’ve just stayed asleep,” you complained, remembering how comfortable and cozy you were just a few minutes ago. 

“I still don’t know how you were sleeping through that,” he smiled. “I’ve never seen someone so lost in their sleep that their alert system is completely off,”. 

“Welcome to my world,” you grinned. “That’s how I roll. I can sleep through just about anything and that annoying ass fire alarm being one of them. Quite literally nothing can wake me up in the middle of the night,”. 

“Remind me to set up an extra secure security system in the house we’ll eventually buy together in a couple years. If someone broke in, we’re goners,” he shook his head, the mention of living in a house…together…making your heart skip a beat. 

You paused for a few seconds to take in what he said and once you did, a warm feeling spread throughout your chest, “I got you,” you smiled, looking up at him with nothing but pure adoration in your eyes. He never failed to bring up his future with you whenever he could, and it was getting increasingly common as you two spent more and more time with one another. It was the way he’d mention all the little trips he wanted to go on with you with that adorable glimmer in his baby-blue eyes–that camping weekend already being planned out in his head ever since you old him you’d never been, or how he’d talk about how excited he was to have you on the sidelines for every NFL game he’d (hopefully) play in. Those little glimpses into his thoughts meant everything to you because they were a reminder that he saw a lifetime when he looked at you.

“Do you ever think about what our house will look like?” he asked, a playful twinkle in his eyes. “I can just picture us decorating for Christmas and fighting over if the tree should be silver or green,”. 

“Um, it’ll be green…classic is better. Duh,” you couldn’t help but giggle, the warmth that bubbled inside your body because of him spreading even more. Your voice became softer as a shy smile crept onto your face, “But to answer your question…all the time. I think about it all the time,” you said, glancing away as you felt your cheeks heat up. Although the way he was looking at you right now made it impossible for you to stay away. You met his eyes again, this time seeing how soft, how delicate they were after you said, “I think about you, about our future, every morning when I open my eyes. And I think about you, about what our life could be like, every night when I turn out the lights,”. 

Joe paused for a second as his face became more serious with realization. Have you really thought about it? He thought about it all the time–what your life would be like together after all of this–but he never knew if you thought about it like he did. He oftentimes mentioned your future in your conversations and he usually was the one to bring it up, and you two hadn’t talked about it with full seriousness yet, even though in your hearts you both knew where you wanted this to go. He didn’t really know how you felt about it and that made him a little nervous, so you saying that was the best reassurance he could’ve gotten. “I love you. I love you like a lot a lot,” he smiled before leaning down to capture your lips in a sweet kiss, one that conveyed some of those special feelings he couldn’t put into words. 

You stuffed one of your hands into his dirty blonde curls, lightly scratching his scalp as you melted into his lips. A content sigh left him at your gentle touch, his shoulders relaxing as he leaned into you. “Mmm,” he hummed once he felt you suck on his top lip, but just before things could get too heated, the bubble around you two popped once again. 

“Get a room!” Ja’marr yelled from a few away, “Y’all can’t even last 20 minutes without sucking face, damn!” he laughed. 

You and Joe froze in the middle of your kiss for a few seconds, both your cheeks turning an even deeper shade of red than before. You pulled away, immediately hiding your face in Joe’s neck out of embarrassment. His hand instantly shifted to cradle the back of your head as his other snaked around your waist, his protective mannerisms like second nature. 

“You’re just jealous,” Joe shot back with a smirk, sticking his tongue out in a way that made him look more like a mischievous kid than a star quarterback. He enjoyed teasing him, knowing how much it would get under Ja’marr’s skin. “Don’t worry buddy, maybe one day you’ll find someone who can actually put up with you,” he jabbed as he felt you laugh against his skin.

Ja’marr rolled his eyes, crossing his arms as he spoke up, “Yeah, well I’m pretty sure there’s a long line of girls waiting to sweep me off my feet..so be careful there, Burrow,” he said sarcastically, but with a hint of confidence. 

“Please, spare me with the bullshit Ja’marr. The only thing you’re sweeping off your feet is the dust on your fancy shoes since you never have an occasion to take them out. If there was a line, it would probably be full of girls trying to figure out how to escape after one dinner with you,” Joe teased. 

“Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night,” Ja’marr said while waving Joe off. “Just wait till I find my perfect match. Then you’ll see who’s really got game ‘round here,”. 

Joe rolled his eyes, “I don’t need game, bud. I already found my perfect match and I know I’m set for life,” he said before pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, making you smile and nuzzle your nose against his fragrant, freshly washed neck. Their playful banter always warmed your heart. It was always so natural between them, the kind of banter only the closest of friends could have. 

“Y'all make me sick. God damn he’s whipped for you, Y/N,” Ja’marr scoffed, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he shook his head. Even though the sight of you two cuddled up and all over each other made him physically ill, he couldn’t help but be over the moon for his best friend. Seeing him so in love to the point where everything around him faded away was all he could have wanted for his best friend, and the fact that he fell in love with an amazing girl like you was even better. Joe deserved this, to be loved the way you love him, to be happy in the way you make him happy, to be seen in the way you see him. Ever since you came into Joe’s life, Ja'marr felt as if some of the heavy burdens that were weighing on Joe's shoulders had been lifted. It's like you came in, effortlessly took off some of his load, and lightened his spirits. He seems to be carrying less weight, moving more freely, and radiating more energy ever since you came into the picture.

“Anywayyy,” Joe said while turning his attention back to you, “I’ve been meaning to ask, what were you dreaming about earlier? I wanna know what made you so…like gone,” he chuckled after he pulled away, his hands still seated firmly on each side of your hip. 

“Hm, I think I was dreaming about our first date,” you laughed, trying to recollect the specifics of your dream. 

He raised an eyebrow, “Really? What about it?” he asked. 

“Oh, just feeling that amazing night over again. Specifically, the way you were so adorably nervous around me,” you blushed. “The way you were fidgeting with the napkin like that was going to save you from impending doom or something, or how you nervously locked in on the menu as if you were reading some sports magazine article about yourself. But I saw you sneaking looks at me,” you said as you leaned into him a little more. “Not so sneaky as you think you are,”. 

“I was trynna play it cool,” he shrugged as a smile spread across his face. “That was my first real date in a long time and I just wanted to impress you and not scare you off,”.

“Oh, you were sooooo cool,” you mocked, “The coolest man to ever be cool. Might have to start calling you Joe Cool now like they did Joe Montana,”.

“Okay, Okay,” Joe rolled his eyes and chuckled. “I don’t think I’ve done enough to deserve that nickname,”.

“Done enough…yet,” you mumbled under your breath, feeling a tug at your heart as if you already knew he was on his way there.

“Did you end up dreaming about what happened…after the date?” he asked, not hearing what you mumbled as he started to remember that night himself, the memory of it causing his heart rate to pick up. “Just ‘cause it was pretty hot and special in my opinion,”

You bit your bottom lip at the memory of what he was referring to; you could practically feel yourself going back to that amazing night just thinking about it. You were feeling the way he held you firmly below him, your leg nestled around his waist as his hand gripped your upper thigh with a firm yet gentle touch. You were feeling his hot breath against your cheek as he chanted your name over and over, almost as if he had forgotten every word in the English dictionary and your name was the only word he could remember. You were hearing him chant, “That’s it..that’s my girl..fuck, you’re taking me so well, Y/N”. You were smelling the thin layer of sweat that was coating both your bodies due to your frantic and needy movements. You were seeing his eyes darken with lust, with desire, for you and only you. You felt like you were touching and sliding your hands down his muscular arms and thick chest. You were feeling the way he was sending your body to heaven with each thrust, with each pump of his thick shaft. You were feeling how good he was making you feel all over again, especially in a way he had never before. His heated touch, his intense gaze, and the love-struck look on his face were burned into your memory, and you were feeling and seeing all three of these things from him right now. 

That’s how intense the memory was. That’s how intense what happened after the date was. What might happen as a result of this conversation might be just as intense, likely even more since you two had perfected the act since then by repeating it over, and over, and over. Ja’marr was right, you two really spent quite a bit of your time together in bed, usually with no clothes on and coated in sweat, amongst other things. 

“Sadly, you woke me up just before I could get to the good stuff,” you breathed out, your skin tingling from the heated memory.

“Damn-,” Joe shook his head before pausing as he glanced over at the group of people walking back into the building. “Oh, looks like we’re good to go back up,” he added before beginning to walk you both over.

Joe threw his arm around your shoulder as you spoke up, “Oh thank god. I need to go back to-,” you began to say before you felt Joe drop his head so his mouth was level with your ear, his hot breath pressing against the corner of your ear.

“Maybe after we go back up we can continue where your dream left off, ya know? Except this time you won’t have to fall asleep to feel that all over again. I can make it happen all over again. Bet this time I can make you scream twice as loud as you did the first time. Maybe even get you past your fear of hurting me and get you to leave some scratches on my back,” he whispered into your ear, his voice laced with fire and promise. 

You stared straight ahead, refusing to make eye contact with him, as you two walked back into the building. Joe smirked above you because he knew your silence and lack of heated eye contact was because of his words. Your brain froze for a few seconds before you felt his hand move from your waist and down to your ass, giving it an ample squeeze. 

Your breath hitched in your throat as visions of what Joe was promising filled your mind, and boy was it delicious. Your once sleepy body was quickly filled with desire and passion, and you were now running on pure fire. The way he could completely change your mood and vibe was so impressive. It was so effortless. All he had to do was whisper a few things into your ear and touch you like that for you to lose all decency, modesty, and etiquette. 

You moved his arm off your shoulder, gripped his hand tightly, and started leading him urgently through the crowd of people in the lobby, your pace was fast and needy. You didn’t care that you were bumping into the other apartment tenets, all you could think about was Joe and his big…warm-. 

“Woahh, slow down,” he laughed behind you, amused at how easily he could get you like this–all needy and heated, “You’re moving like your hair’s on fire or something,”. 

You glanced back at him with your bottom lip between your teeth, “My hair isn’t, but my body is,” you admitted, the fire behind your eyes sparking something inside both of you. “I don’t think I’m going back to sleep anytime soon. That fire alarm might’ve just been the best thing to happen to me…maybe even you…all day,” you said with a look that made his heart skip a beat…maybe even two beats.

“Really?” he said with a cocky grin.

You gave his hand three gentle squeezes before glancing back at him again, both of you flashing those bedroom eyes at each other. The bedroom eyes were usually his thing, but after spending so much time with him, you picked up on a few things. He was rubbing off on you, and he fucking loved that. “I think we’re going to set it off for real this time,” he winked. 

End of Flashback 

So what made you wake up? You could sleep through a blaring siren but not through whatever made you wake up now. The breeze wasn’t the explanation, was it? It couldn’t have been something so simple…right?

And it didn’t help that the air around you felt strangely empty too. Something wasn’t right but you weren’t sure what it was and it felt like something was missing, the lack of that something being the reason why your body woke you up. This strange feeling was gnawing at you, refusing to let you slip back into slumber.

You rubbed your eyes again, this time feeling the puffiness around your eyelids, a sad reminder of the way you fell asleep, and a reminder of everything that unfolded a few miserable hours ago. The heaviness was still in your chest, the tight knot of emotion hadn’t loosened yet and flashes of earlier moments filled your mind; the high-intensity moments of the game, the comments from the fans, and everything Joe unloaded on you once he got home. 

“Wait,” you whispered. That’s when you noticed the absence of warmth–his warmth. Just a few hours ago, you had your full-time human teddy bear and part-time football player wrapped around you, his arms holding you tightly as if he never wanted to and couldn’t let go. But now, all that was left was a blanket partially tangled around your cold, lonesome body. 

“He must’ve moved over,” you whispered, your voice heavy with sleep as you turned your head to look over to his spot next to you. You were expecting to find him sprawled out beside you because he’d done that before–fall asleep on your chest and somehow end up next to you once he woke up–but to your surprise, his spot was empty. 

Except for his…t-shirt?

You reached out, scrunching up the soft fabric of his worn-out Fiesta Bowl shirt in your hands, “Where did he go?” you thought to yourself as you felt a twinge of anxiety in your body. You blinked a few more times to adjust to the darkness before shooting up from the bed, “Joe?” you called out as you looked around the room–no response. 

“Is he in the bathroom?” you whispered as you looked over, but there was no light coming from there and the door was wide open so he clearly wasn’t inside. It was uncharacteristic of him to get up like this in the middle of the night, especially because he valued his sleep so much during the season. 

You slipped out of the bed, planting each foot firmly on the floor and pausing for a few seconds to ground yourself before walking into the closet to see if he was in there, which he wasn’t. You even walked into the bathroom to check again even though you knew it was empty. 

“Where did he go?” you asked yourself again as you felt a pit in your stomach form, “Maybe his office?” you wondered as you peeked out into the hallway, but saw there was no light coming from any of the rooms, including his office.  

“Joe?” you called out as you stepped out of your bedroom, his shirt in your hand as you waddled down the hallway, your eyes scanning every room and every corner to see if you could find him. 

Your footsteps echoed through your quiet home as you searched for him, the shuffling of your feet mixed with the darkness around you almost enough to scare you back into bed. You weren’t really afraid of the dark, but you just hated being alone…hated being away from Joe.

You were letting your mind come up with any excuse for his absence even though you knew everything you came up with was so unlike him. Thinking he was in his office, grabbing a late-night snack downstairs, on the phone with someone important, or out in the backyard for some reason, was pointless because that wasn’t Joe. You wanted to think that he just got up for a simpler reason, but deep down, you felt like you knew exactly where he was. 

And your suspicions were proven to be true once you made your way downstairs.

“It’s bad if he’s in there…especially right now,” you sighed to yourself after you made your way through the first floor of the house, now leaning against the kitchen island as you stared at the door next to the garage, a soft glow of light coming from inside the room. “I guess what I said didn’t help him as much as I thought it would,” you said out loud, your voice faltering as you felt a familiar wave of sadness come over you. 

You took a deep breath before pushing back from the island and walking towards the room he was in. “I really thought I got through to him a little bit. But I didn’t. I should have, but I couldn’t.” you thought to yourself as you gently pushed the door open, feeling absolutely gutted that he was in there…in the gym. 

When you walked into the home gym, you were met with total silence. Well, other than the shuffling sounds of the treadmill Joe was running on. Normally you’d walk into the pumping bass of his music playing over the speakers, but this time it was pure silence. Maybe it being 3 in the morning had something to do with that, but it still felt weird being in total silence. 

You looked up and saw Joe running on the sleek black treadmill, his broad, tan, muscular back glistening under the warm light of the gym. He was shirtless, obviously, only clad in workout shorts and shoes. His strong legs were powering through each stride as he stared straight ahead with focus, his Bose earbuds in his ears blocking out any and all noise. Even though you couldn’t see his face, you could tell he was lost in thought, pushing himself harder than usual. 

“Fuck..,” you mumbled under your breath, a sense of realization washing over you as you gripped his shirt tighter in your hands. You really wanted to be wrong about finding him in here at this hour of the night, but you always had the worst luck. 

Normally, you wouldn’t be fazed about finding Joe in the home gym, it was one of his favorite places in the house. He loved getting a quick workout whenever he could, especially in a place that was his own. But this was more than just him getting a quick workout in, not just because it was the middle of the night. He didn’t do this too often, but whenever he did, it triggered the alarms in your brain. Running on the treadmill in the middle of the night was only done when he needed to clear his head and nothing worked, not even talking to you (so this was rare). It was his last resort, which meant that whatever was weighing on him was so heavy that even you couldn’t lift it off his shoulders. He felt like running calmed his soul, cleared his head, and helped him get away from his problems. And it did. But only temporarily–like a bandaid instead of a stitch. 

You let out a sigh as you stood there for a few seconds just watching him run, hoping and silently praying he’d turn around and notice you, but he didn’t. 

Some nights when he did this, he noticed you instantly and unknowingly allowed you to coax him back to bed. He wasn’t trying to, but when he looked at you, he had this small pout on his face and this glint in his eyes like he did when he was a baby. Both then and now, that pout meant that he was silently begging for someone to help him and get him out of a zone that caused him discomfort. When he was little, it was to get him out of a zone filled with chaos and high energy that was sometimes too much for a baby to handle, sometimes he just needed nap time. Now, it was to get him out of a darker zone; a zone where he was surrounded by his most destructive thoughts, thoughts that he couldn’t push away. Sometimes, he just needed you.

Luckily for him, you’d always be there to pull him back from the maze of mirrors he found himself in. A maze of mirrors where each frame reflected the worst qualities about himself; his self-doubt, his anxiety, his insecurities. Each glass distorted his image until it became unrecognizable. But you were always there, ready to throw a curtain over the mirror before he got lost in the warped reflections. 

But other nights, nights like these, he was so lost in his head–in that maze of wretched mirrors–to the point where everything around him faded away; only two things could make that happen. 

One was you.

And the other was his deepest, most critical thoughts. 

It should’ve only been you because you made things fade away for a good reason. But tonight, it seemed like he couldn’t block out those stubborn voices and those versions of himself he hated, no matter how much he wanted to. They filled his mind, dimming any and all peaceful thoughts he wanted to cling to. 

You closed your eyes for a second, then took a few deep breaths before glancing back to the workout equipment behind you, “Guess I’ll just wait here,” you muttered, walking backward and plopping down on one of the workout benches. You really didn’t want to leave him alone right now, even though you knew he came in here to be by himself. “I can wait for him,” you said, trying to reassure yourself that you had it in you to wait here. 

You also couldn’t help but blame yourself for his current state as your mind started to spiral again. Yeah, this was a bad loss and that was enough to make him upset. But everything that happened with you was what pushed him over the edge. He was hurting, still hurting, and you could tell. He was hurting because he felt like he hurt you, and you were hurting because you felt like you hurt him. 

Funny, isn’t it? How two people, so deeply and madly in love, can feel so much pain even in their carefully built protective bubble? Each of you thought you were the reason for this mess, but the real culprits hid in the shadows just beyond your reach. They were like silent intruders, slipping through the tiny cracks when neither of you was looking. And here you were, blaming yourselves for a pain that neither of you brought onto yourselves. 

—

You don’t know how long you had been sitting on that black workout bench, watching him run and run and run on that treadmill. But you knew it was long enough because of the little moments where you saw him slow himself down, almost because he was tired. But you also saw him shake his head and then continue to power through each stride on the workout machine. He was exhausted, but he wouldn’t let himself admit it. 

Every few minutes, you’d say his name, hoping to get him to glance over at you so he could give you the chance to ease him back to bed. “Joe? Joey, please. Come back to bed,” you mumbled, your voice so tired and heavy as you watched him run, and run, and run. 

But he wouldn’t even flinch, let alone glance back at you. 

“Baby, it’s late. C’mon,”. 

“Joey, I know it’s hard but you can’t expect this to make it better,”. 

“Joe? Hey? Are you okay?”. 

“J, please? We can talk about it upstairs. Just come back with me?”.

But nothing. Nothing each time you said something. Just. Total. Silence. 

You were starting to get a little aggravated, not because he wouldn’t budge, but because he wouldn’t look back at you. “Is he ignoring me? Or does he genuinely not feel me behind him?”  you asked yourself as you swayed your head to the side to get a good peek at him. His music could only be so loud, it’s not like his headphones were blocking his eyes. 

You let out a deep sigh and groaned as your eyes scanned the room in search of something that could get his attention off of running. You saw that there was a yoga ball, a few tennis balls, and some weights in your reach. “I just want his attention. I’m not trying to hurt him,” you laughed in your head before playing with his shirt in your hands without realizing. 

But when you did realize that you still had his shirt in your hands, you were scrunching it up into a ball and throwing the fabric at the back of his head in a matter of seconds. “Bullseye!” you smiled to yourself as the shirt directly hit the intended target, “If he saw that throw, he’d be proud,”.

You watched his body flinch after he felt the fabric being thrown at him, the jumpscare a little too much for him because he quickly hit the stop button and flipped around. “Finally,” you grinned as you crossed your arms and waited for him to meet your eyes.

Joe turned around with a semi-startled look on his face, almost enough to make you feel guilty for scaring him since you knew how much he hated being spooked like that. “What the hell?” he panted, his hand moving up to take out his earbud. His breathing seemed to steady out once he realized it was just you, “Y/N? What the hell...are you...are you...doing in here?” he huffed while licking his lips. His face was coated with a generous amount of sweat which made his skin sparkle even more. God, he looked so good. 

“And good morning to you too,” you yawned, getting up from the bench and stretching your limbs.  

Joe sighed, “Y/N…it’s late. Go to sleep,” while threading his fingers through his damp hair, then using his hand to wipe the sweat off his forehead. 

“Joe, it’s late. Let’s go to sleep,” you smiled back as you mimicked his tone, tugging on the sleeves of your sweatshirt to feel a comfortable warmth that was similar to the warmth your bed offered. 

He rolled his eyes, his frustration and sadness clearly speaking for him based on the look in his eyes and his stiff body language. “Stop being difficult and just go back to sleep. I’m fine,” he spat out, flipping back around and hitting the start button on the treadmill again. His words felt like a punch to the gut, and he knew that very well because of the immediate regret that filled his tired body. “Why the hell did I say that to her? What’s wrong with me?”. 

You felt your heart sink, the weight of his words settling heavily on your chest. You watched him tense up, his fingers flexing and releasing at his sides out of internal frustration and confusion. “Lying to my face yet again? Come on, Joe. I thought we moved past the shutting me out phase. You promised,” you thought to yourself, anxiously playing with the blue topaz birthstone, his birthstone, necklace around your neck as you felt the tension in the room.

You know he’s pushing you away again, but you refuse to back down because you know in your head he needs you more than anything. He was building that hard shell again, fragile but stubborn, shielding him from you in a way you knew he thought was protective. 

You walked over to him slowly, “Joe, it’s been a long day,” you breathed out. “You’re tired, rightfully so. And I’m tired too. Why don’t we just go back to bed and figure this out tomorrow? You’ve had a really shitty night and I think sleep is best for you right now,”. 

He didn’t respond, didn’t even glance back at you. All you heard was just the quiet hum of the treadmill as you watched him continue to run. But you knew he heard you since his headphones weren’t in his ears, and his extra tense back muscles gave away more than he intended. 

“It’s not good for you to put this much pressure on yourself, baby. You’ve had a long day, a long week. You need to relax,” you added, taking two more steps forward. 

Still nothing. 

“Shit,” you muttered under your breath, your palms feeling clammy because you could feel his stress and tension radiating off him and melting into your body. “He’s not budging. This always works…why is it not working?” the thoughts in your brain were loud, banging from wall to wall and making your head spin. 

“Alright,” you mumbled, shaking your head to push away those agonizing thoughts, “Guess he wants to do this the hard way,” moving closer to Joe and walking around the treadmill so you were standing in front of him. Your eyes slowly move up his chiseled chest as you took in his appearance, the way sweat clung to his muscular frame made his chest glisten in the glow of the room. You felt a rush of heat pool in your belly–seeing him like this always left you a little weak. “Oh, come on,” you thought while shaking your head to push away those types of thoughts.

You moved your eyes up, meeting his icy baby blues which somehow seemed cold yet burned with anger. There was no relief there, just a sharpness that made your heartache. The tension in his body matched the intensity in his eyes, his muscles were taut with the same pressure. He was seconds away from exploding if you made the wrong move, you knew you needed to handle him gently. 

“Joe…,” you said softly, placing a hand on each side of the treadmill screen to catch his attention, which worked. You saw his eyes peek down at your hands, his pace slightly slowing as he met your eyes again. “Stop running, Joe,” you pleaded, your voice gentle but firm, urging him to hear you out and not push himself away. 

His eyes were locked in on yours for a few seconds, his softening gaze nearly made it feel as if he was trying to hand himself over to you. It felt like he was ready to give in, but then, almost as if he couldn’t help himself, his finger inched up the screen and tapped the button to increase the speed. The little chime echoed between you both, and in that moment, it felt like the wall fell back down.

“Is he messing with me?” you thought to yourself as your grip on the screen became tighter. 

The fact that he had been disregarding your wishes for what felt like an hour was bothering you way more than it should have. You knew why he was behaving like this, understanding where this dismissive attitude was coming from, but you couldn’t help but feel angry at the way he was acting with you right now. 

You let out a drained sigh, your shoulders slumping as you slowly release your grip on the screen. His eyes never left you as he watched you stare down at your feet, feeling utterly helpless and small. You tried everything, said everything, but nothing seemed to stick with him. There was nothing more you felt like you could say or do, and the ache in your heart grew once you realized that. 

But as you stared down at your manicured toes, you remembered a somewhat similar moment from a few months ago where the roles were reversed. Joe wasn’t the only one who got like this when something went wrong in his work life. You did too.

A few months ago, you had been working on a crucial, tedious, and time-consuming project for work. You knew this was your shot–the one that would prove your worth, the one that could bag you that promotion you’d been eyeing for so long. Every detail had to be perfect; you were putting in long hours and pushing yourself way beyond your threshold. Just when things felt like they were finally coming together, when you were about to hand it all in, it all came crashing down. One small mistake, one missed deadline, or maybe a combination of both, and the project was a failure. Your heart sank and you could feel the weight of the loss pushing down on you, knowing you had worked so hard for nothing. It was a blow to your confidence, and for a moment, it felt like all that effort had been useless. 

You came home that night with the most defeated look on your face, feeling like an absolute disappointment. All you wanted to do was cry, lock yourself in the bedroom for a week, and wallow in sadness. And you would have done that–if it weren’t for him. The man who promised to wipe away your tears for as long as he could, your Joey. 

He spent the whole evening being there for you in the smallest yet most thoughtful ways. Each time your eyes pooled with ears, he was ready. He plucked a tissue from the box and held it to your nose, murmuring gentle reminders for you to blow. He refilled your glass with ice water each hour because he knew how chewing on the cubes somehow cooled your face down, a comforting ritual of yours after crying that he had memorized. Each time a tear formed in your eye, his thumb was right there before it had the chance to make it down your cheek. He sat with you, promising that mistakes like this happened more than you realized. He offered to talk to your boss and take on whatever came his way as long as he could lighten the burden on your shoulders. But most importantly, he held you close and the quiet reassurance, the gentleness of his touch, and the sweetness of his words reminded you how deeply he loved you and how he’d be right by your side no matter what.

But nothing he was saying really stuck with you, just like how nothing you said stuck with him right now. But Joe didn’t give up once he realized his words weren’t doing anything. Instead, he got an idea–a more Joe-like idea–to get you to relax which involved releasing some…pent-up tension in your body.

So then as you stared at your manicured toes while laying on the bed with him, your mind wandering to all the different scenarios that would play out when you went back to work, you suddenly felt his soft, pillowy lips press slow, wet kisses down your neck. His lips trailed down your arm while his warm hand lifted your shirt and pressed against your bare skin, then his lips moved to your hips and belly. Each kiss caused your stomach to flutter from excitement and your brain to become clouded with only thoughts of him. And the next thing you knew, his head was stuck between your legs, his large hands gripping your thighs and holding them open, his cold nose rubbing against your clit, and your back arching off the bed as his name repeatedly fell from your lips. 

Work was the last thing on your mind after that. 

So maybe it was time to use reverse psychology? 

Screw gentle. 

If he could get you to relax by grabbing your attention that way, maybe you could do the same? It was uncharacteristic of you to use sex as a way to distract him, but it was worth a shot. You just needed him to get off of the treadmill and somehow tire him out enough to pass out as soon as he hit the pillow. This…might just work? No, it definitely will work. Joe couldn’t resist the temptation when given the chance. No way would he be able to hold back from this.

“Joe’s hormones, don’t fail me now,” you thought to yourself as you looked back up, your hand reaching down to grasp the hem of your crewneck sweatshirt, lifting it just enough for him to catch a peek of what was underneath–or more accurately, what wasn’t. You pulled the fabric up slowly, revealing your bare thighs and the lacy purple panties that he could never resist, the ones that always drove him mad no matter the mood he was in. You saw his eyes flash, breaking away from the stare he’d been giving the treadmill screen. 

This was perfect. 

“Joe,” you said, a playful tone lacing your words. “Why don’t you come back to bed with me?” you finished, your sweatshirt now fully off as you threw it to the side, your bare chest now on display for him. The cool air drifting through the room felt like a kiss to your bare body, but the heat in his gaze burned hotter than anything the cold could offer; it was enough to make your knees tremble. 

His eyes widened at the display in front of him, and for a split second, you saw a crack in the wall between you. He gripped the sidebar tightly, his knuckles turning white as he steadied himself, nearly stumbling over his own feet. You knew your little stunt had hit a nerve…the perfect nerve. 

“Careful,” you teased, your voice dripping with need. “I’d hate for you to trip, baby,”. 

His eyebrow shot up, a mix of surprise and desire on his face. His jaw clenched, the tension in his body palpable as his cheeks flushed to the same color as the mark on your collarbone he would love to leave in heated moments like these.

Ohhh yeah. You hit the nerve. Bullseye. 

“What’re..you doing,” he said, his voice dipping down as he saw you reach up to untie your messy bun, your soft, silky hair falling down your bare back like a mystical waterfall. 

You let out a low chuckle, “Getting you to stop running, duh,” as you gave his body another slow once-over, and this time, he noticed it.

The look you were giving him, mimicking the same bedroom eyes he’d often give you, made his body react instantly. The tension between you turned to electricity, and he could feel the growing heat in his shorts, the tent tightening with every passing second. 

“Y- you’re unbelievable,” he scoffed, shaking his head as a small, reluctant smile tugged at the corner of his lips. But instead of stepping down, he tapped the speed button again and went back to looking ahead, refocusing on his run as if he were trying to shake off the effect you were having on him.

“Nope, juuuuust relentless,” you winked.

The heat between you both was hard to deny and you could tell he was slowly cracking with the way his face would scrunch up when he ran a little too fast. The hardness growing in his boxers made it incredibly uncomfortable to run and you were enjoying every second of him pretending like he wasn’t bothered by it. The stiffness straining against his shorts was practically begging for the attention you were offering, despite how hard he was trying to keep it under control. 

You stood there in front of him, letting your eyes wander up and down his body with purpose, occasionally turning around so he could get a view of your bare back and the curve of your hips, just doing whatever you could to break his front. The sounds of his small, frustrated groans and his breath hitching told you that you were hitting your mark. One specific thing you did really got to him though. You leaned forward, resting your arms on top of the treadmill screen so that your chest was fully visible, your breasts dangling right in front of him. You could feel his restraint slipping, piece by piece. His sharp intake of breath and the way his eyes darkened once he looked at you confirmed it. You had him right where you wanted.

“Y/N, stop,” he snapped, his gaze dropping to your pretty pink lips which he desperately needed to feel everywhere. 

“Make me,” you challenged, batting your eyes at him in mockery. 

“If you’re soooo horny, go upstairs and take care of it yourself. It’s not like you haven’t before when I’m not here,” he sneered, the twinkle in your eyes letting him know exactly what you were up to. “Just do whatever and leave me alone,”. 

Those three words felt like a fastball to the face. No way was he on this again, not after the conversations you two had the past week. “Oh hell no.” you thought to yourself, feeling even more irritated by his behavior because he was acting the same way he did after the game last week. You weren’t going to let him push you away this time, not after everything you’ve helped him through. 

But maybe, just maybe pushing his buttons was the answer? You knew how Joe operated all too well; when he got heated, the wall he built crumbled fast and he’d be too focused on that fire. If you could light that fire just enough, maybe he’d finally let go. “Oh, I’m going to hell for this,” you mumbled under your breath, bracing yourself for the words that were about to fall from your mouth. “Here we go again with the ‘leave me alone’ act,” you groaned, seeming more pissed than you actually were in order to make him mad. “Joe, I love you. But please stop with the bullshit because it’s giving me whiplash,”. 

“What bullshit?” he questioned, his brows furrowing in offense. He was slightly taken aback by the tone of your voice–usually playful but now rough. It was laced with a kind of frustration even he couldn’t ignore. 

“You know what I’m talking about,” you rolled your eyes, leaning back so that your entire body was in his view again. “It’s the middle of the night and I’ve been in here for the past hour trying to help you out of this funk but you just won’t quit it with this bullshit,”. 

Joe’s gaze sharpened, “Again, what bullshit.” his lips pressed into a thin line. 

You let out a snarky laugh, “This whole ‘leave me alone’ bullshit, the ‘i’m fine’ bullshit. You’re not fine Joe and it’s okay to admit that. Saying you’re not fine doesn’t make you any less of a man, trust me,”. 

“You better watch what you say, Y/N,” he quickly retorted, raising an eyebrow at your arrogance. His voice dripped with warning and intrigue, he was warning you to watch your mouth but he was just as curious to hear what you had to say. 

“Or what? Or what, Joe?” you snapped back. “I’m so sick of seeing you act like this; being dismissive doesn’t fucking solve anything. And you know what else? I am so sick of you acting like this with me. Just hours ago you were stuck to me like glue and now it’s like you’re avoiding me like the plague. I’m also so sick of getting hundreds of messages asking how you’re doing. What the hell am I supposed to say to them? ‘I don’t know how my own boyfriend is doing because he refuses to tell me and acts like I’m not here?’ Spare me the embarrassment, Joe. I can’t deal with these funks where you’re all over me, confiding in me and then hours later you’re acting like I’m a piece of gum stuck to your shoe that won’t go away,”.

“You know, I didn’t ask you to come in here,” he interjected, continuing to run on the treadmill at full force, his words shaky as he was trying to catch his breath. His eyes trailed up and down your body, and even in this tense moment, he was captivated by your raw beauty. You looked angelic in this light, even though you had just woken up and had a rough evening prior. Your hair was slightly messy, but messy in a way that he adored. The soft light of the room gave you an ethereal glow which made it hard for him to look away. And your face…oh, your face. The softness, and the gentle curve of your full lips both made him feel an ache deep within his heart. All he wanted to do was pull you to his lips and never stop kissing you, despite feeling aggravated by your words. “I didn’t ask you to care, Y/N,”. 

You tipped your head back in frustration, but reminding yourself that you needed to keep your cool with him or this would turn into a screaming match too fast. You closed your eyes and took another deep breath, “Yikes. Okay, maybe I’m pushing his buttons a little too hard. Deep breaths, Y/N,”. 

“You don’t need to ask me, Joe,” you replied once you opened them, your words much softer now that you eased up. “We’re like magnets, Joey. I go where you go and you go where I go…we’ve always been that close. Since LSU? You know that. It’s always just been you and me no matter the circumstance or situation, we count on each other for everything and you promised me that when you told me you loved me. I know when you’re not okay even when you try your hardest to hide it from me. I just want you to let me be there for you like I always have…and I don’t care if you think pushing me away is protecting me. I love you more than anything in this world and you will always come first for me no matter what. I’ll always be there for you, even if I get caught in the line of fire,” you said, your voice heavy with despair. “You need me, and I’m there. I’m always there,”.

The words, “I’m always there” echoed in his brain as his gaze fell to the floor, then back to your wary eyes, almost as if he was trying to decide whether to give in or keep holding his front. He felt your words, he felt the weight of your words. He felt how badly you wanted to help him and get him out of his head. But he didn’t want to hurt you more than he already had, that’s why he was pushing you out again. He couldn’t stand the sight of you wiping your tears after he walked away, or hearing you try to stifle your sniffles to spare his feelings or stare into your bloodshot eyes, knowing he was the cause of your pain. You were his delicate Y/N, the one person who was as fragile as a feather but strong as a block of concrete…for him. You promised to protect him at all costs no matter what happened, sometimes even putting herself in the line of fire just to shield him. And in his own twisted way, he thought pushing you away from him was protecting you.

But what he didn’t realize–what he never seemed to understand–was that pushing you away only hurt you both more. You weren’t afraid of his broken pieces or his rough edges because you knew how to hold the shattered pieces together. You knew how to soften the edges. He tried to push you away time and time again, but you always fought it. And now he understood why. To you, his rough edges and shattered pieces weren’t something to run from–it was something to love through. To you, they weren’t flaws to be fixed, but unique parts to be cherished. You saw beauty in his resilience, strength in his vulnerability, and passion in his devotion to protecting the ones he loved the most. He wasn’t anything like what those idiots said, he was far from it. 

You saw him for him. You loved him for him. No matter what was said, what was done, what baggage he carried, you loved him. You never backed away from him when his entire world felt like it was imploding. He had never met anyone like that…anyone like you. 

Why should he push away the best thing that ever happened to him? Why should he let his fears build walls to separate you when all you ever wanted to do was hold him closer, to remind him that he was enough just as he was? You were protective over the ones you loved and he knew that, but you were protective over Joe more than anyone or anything else. 

He’d always allowed you to be there for him, but this time he was doing everything in his power to push back from you. That was not like him at all. He’d always been open with you, seeking solace in your arms, falling asleep to your reassuring, sweet words, getting lost under your protective touch, and breathing in your calming scent. He’d never been the one to ignore you, snap at you, and make you feel overlooked. But ever since the wrist injury, he had moments, phases, where he would get like this; those phases and moments hurt you more than anything any fan could ever say. It hurt you because he pulled away, something he’d never done. In the beginning, you couldn’t figure out why, which scared the hell out of you, and luckily he realized before it was too late. The guilt was almost unbearable at times when he saw you come down with puffy eyes or give him a shaky response. But as time passed and he slowly started to let you in, you understood why he acted the way he did–and it had nothing to do with you. 

This time, however, it had everything to do with you. The game went pretty badly and he was being overly critical about himself as usual, but that’s not what did it for him. Those awful comments people spat at you, his girl? That was where he drew the line. That should’ve been enough for him to comfort you, to hold you for as long as he could, to be there for you. But instead, he was running further from you, shutting himself out, and making you come after him. He didn’t even think about how upset you must be feeling, how difficult it must be to hide it from him because you didn’t want to burden him with anything else. 

“I’m not fine…I haven’t been fine in months and neither has she. She puts this strong front to protect me and I never even realize how much she must be dealing with right now, how much she must be juggling with me, work, and football. She’s not a robot, she’s hurting too,” he thought to himself as his eyes trailed back to yours, seeing the pain behind your pupils. “Let go, Joe. She’s right there for you. Stop being a hardass and let her be there for you. You’re killing her,”. 

“Joe,” you whispered softly, your voice trembling as if you were on the verge of tears, “I’m not going anywhere. Let me in, p- please?”. 

“Let her in, Joe. It’s just Y/N, the girl you’ve loved ever since she showed up at your door with a bag of caramel apple suckers to apologize for crashing football practice. She didn’t have to do that, but she showed up and did. This is the girl that is the first one to come find you after a brutal loss, knowing how much of a detached asshole you’d be in the heat of the moment. She doesn’t have to, but she shows up and does it anyway. This is the woman you want to marry as soon as possible. Why? Because she has always been there for you through thick and thin–she never once has gone back on her promise to be by your side until her wheels fall off. Lots of people in your life came and went and left you high and dry but she never did that to you. She could have, she had so many chances to run for the hills and never look back, but she didn’t. If you keep pushing her away, you’ll push her away for good. You can’t lose her. You can’t live without her. The thought of losing her makes your chest physically hurt,” he thought to himself, feeling that subtle sting in his chest he was thinking about. 

“I love you, Joe. You don’t have to figure this out alone. I can handle it, whatever it is. Just tr- trust me,” you swallowed, your voice cracking again as you felt the emotional waters push against the mental dam you had built in your mind to keep Joe dry. “Keep it together, Y/N,” you told yourself. 

“Trust her. Trust her. Trust her,” Joe’s subconscious whispered, a mantra meant to bring him to his senses. He let out a deep breath, his voice a barely audible mumble as the words left him, “I trust you.” It was so soft, you couldn’t hear him, but even saying it out loud seemed to open something within him. You never gave him a reason to not trust you which meant whatever you were saying, you meant every word. 

You noticed the way his shoulders dropped, tension oozing out of him like air from a balloon. His vulnerability was almost palpable–but it wasn’t just that. There was something else now, something charged, bubbling just beneath the surface. “I need to do something to get her to relax. She won’t tell me how she’s feeling straight up, but I know she’s like a glass of water filled to the brim, each drop teetering on the edge before it spills over in an uncontrollable flood,” his inner voice said, the thought flipping a switch deep inside him. Joe wasn’t oblivious to your habit of putting everyone else before yourself–it was one of the things he admired about you, but it also frustrated him. He hated seeing you push your own emotions to the side. And now, with you standing in front of him, he could see through the cracks in your armor–the water dancing on the edge of the glass–the quiet exhaustion you tried to mask so well for him. 

His stare darkened as the air shifted between you, thick with an implied intensity. His lips curved into a smirk, and the hesitation that had hypnotized him earlier seemed to melt away in an instant. “You know…,” he began, his voice low, laced with a heat that sent a shiver down your spine, “You’re playing a risky game, Y/N,”.  

You blinked at him, caught off guard by the sudden change in his demeanor.  

Joe’s eyes roamed over your body, slow and unapologetic, lingering in a way that made your skin catch on fire. The smirk on his lips deepened, and he tilted his head slightly, the energy between you crackling like lightning. 

“Out here with no clothes on and that look in your eyes…,” he murmured, his tone both teasing and commanding, leaving no doubt that he was fully aware of the effect he had on you.

Oh. 

Your breath hitched, the heat pooling in your belly as your heartbeat quickened, “Oh, I- I…,” you stammered, your words twisting in your throat. 

He chuckled softly, “What’s the matter, lovey? Lost your words?”. 

Oh?

You stared into his deep blue eyes, and something was different. Something had shifted. The wall you’d seen there before, was…gone?

Wait. Was it really gone? The tension, the guarded demeanor–just melted away? Your teasing, your soft words, the way you’d carefully nudged him…did it actually work? You weren’t exactly doubting your ability to break through to him, but this was Joe. Joe, who could be as immovable as a brick wall when he wanted to be. Joe, who sometimes made you work for every crack in his armor. Your heart skipped a beat at the realization. The icy look in his eyes, the stoic front just…gone. Now it was just the Joe you knew. The Joe who trusted you. The Joe that made you smile in moments like these–where you were far from happy. Your Joe. 

You weren’t sure what exactly did it for him but whatever it was, it made him laugh. It made him genuinely laugh. And whatever it was, you sure as hell weren’t going to grill him about it right now.

Now, it was time for step two: release the tension in his mind and body in the best way possible. 

“No,” you shook your head, “Just…distracted,” as you slowly walked around the treadmill. You lifted your hand to glide across his sweaty arm, lightly scratching his bare skin with your manicured nails, “You can’t be in here looking like this…with no shirt…covered in sweat…and expect me to act normal about it,”. Joe’s eyes darted to where your nails danced on his arm, his breath hitching for a brief moment before his gaze met yours again, a mixture of amusement and something stronger swirling within them. 

“You’re trouble,” he said, a little breathless as you pushed yourself away from him and started twirling around the empty space in the gym. 

“Ohhh noooo. I guess you’ll have to arrest me, officer,” you pouted, a mischievous glimmer behind your soft eyes which resulted in another chuckle from your boyfriend. Your lips curled into a playful grin as you circled him like a predator stalking her prey. “There’s that laugh,” you murmured, your tone light as you moved closer to him. “I knew it was in there somewhere. You’ve been holding out on me, Burrow,”.

Joe raised an eyebrow, his smirk growing as he watched your every move. “What are you up to, Y/N?” he asked, a hint of pleasure mixing with curiosity in his voice.

“Oh, me?” you joked, acting innocent as you came around to stand in front of him. “I’m just here to help…you know, ease some of that tension you’ve been carrying around all night,”.

He tilted his head, that familiar spark of mischief returning to his eyes after he understood what you were implying. “You’re playing with fire, you know that? Gotta be careful,”.

“And yet,” you shot back, stepping just a little closer, “You’re still standing here, letting me,” you said, your voice just above a whisper. 

Your eyes stayed zoned in on his, observing how that little sparkle burnt brighter behind his as a heavy silence fell between you. You knew the effect you had on him, and it was only a matter of seconds before he gave into that need–that need to feel you everywhere. You watched the tension in his jaw increase, how his chest heaved a little harder, and his eyes dropping to your lips and chest. You also saw the twinge of discomfort on his face which stemmed from the growing tent in his workout shorts. 

“Any second,”  you smirked to yourself. 

You continued to look at him with those heated eyes, waiting for the moment when he gave into his desire, his need to feel you. You knew him too well, which meant you also knew exactly how to set him off. “Well…guess I should just go take care of it myself then. Shouldn’t I?” you teased, slowly inching back from him. Joe absolutely hated not being the one to get you off when you needed to feel liquid bliss coursing through your veins. The idea of you sprawled across your shared bed, your fingers between your thighs, his name falling from your lips, and for him to not be there? That drove him wild.

And as if on cue, his hand slammed down on the power button, the treadmill abruptly stopping. Then you watched as he stepped down while his other hand reached out, gripping your wrist with a firm but gentle hold. Before you had the chance to say something, he pulled you closer. Your bare chest brushed against his slick, sweat-covered torso, “Hell no,” he mumbled.

Your lips parted, but nothing came out. Yeah, the effect you had on him was strong and powerful. But when it came down to this, you were a pile of goo in his hands. He knew that and you knew that even better. 

He leaned in closer, his lips ghosting over your ear as his voice sent a shiver down your spine, “You wanna play with fire, baby? Well congratulations. You just got burned,”.

And again, before you had a chance to say something, his mouth was on yours. His large hands slide down to your sides, gripping your hips with a possessiveness that makes your knees weak. The heat of his body radiated to yours as he walked you both backward; you were so lost in the lustful haze that surrounded you to realize where you were going. “Mmph,” you moaned into the kiss, feeling the hardness in his boxers brush against your upper thigh. “Please,” you whimpered, feeling his lips mash against yours in a slow, sultry movement. “Joe,”. 

Suddenly, he pulled away from you and plopped down onto the padded bench behind him, then pulled you down with him before you could catch your breath. His strong arms held you firmly in his lap, each of your legs around him as you straddled him in place. “What am I going to do with you now, huh?” he murmured as his lips traveled from your lips, down your neck, and ghosted over your collarbone. “With all that shit you said to me…I shouldn’t be doing this. You were running that pretty little mouth of yours a little too much tonight,”. 

“Joe…,” you whispered, your breath hitching as his other hand slid up your back, tangling in your hair and tugging at the soft, silky strands. Each kiss he pressed was slow, wet, and hot against your skin; he was savoring every inch of you. 

“What, lovey?” he whispered as his lips went back up the path he traced.

You threw your head to the side, allowing his lips to explore parts of your skin he hadn’t adored yet, “Joey, please…I need it,”. 

A low chuckle left his lips, “What’s got you so worked up, hm?”. 

“You…,” you gasped, feeling him attach his lips to the sweet spot on your neck. “I told you…you look so-,”.

“Me?” he rasped as he moved up your neck. “Have you seen yourself? You look gorgeous, and this?,” his fingers toying with the waistband of your purple lace panties, “These are driving me fucking insane,”  he chuckled.“You always look beautiful for me, so effortless and sexy,”.

A rush of heat flooded your body at his words, at his touch, leaving you breathless. His scruff grazed against your delicate skin, sending a rousing mix of roughness and warmth down your spine. Your hips had a mind of their own as they slowly rocked back and forth against Joe’s, his reaction telling you that you were slowly getting through to him in another way…a more pleasurable way. His lips found your ear, brushing against the corner as he whispered, his voice deep and low, “Mmm, yeah…That’s a good girl.”.  

His words ignited a fire within you, your hips instinctively shifting against him in another strong movement, pressing into the hardness you could now feel straining against his shorts. His hands gripped your hips tighter, keeping you steady as he began to guide your movements, enticing soft gasps from your lips. “You’re making it really hard for me to hold back, baby,” he murmured, the heat of his breath tickling your ear as you rocked back and forth on his cock, your panties soaked from your arousal. His fingers trailed up your side, leaving goosebumps in their path before they dipped beneath the waistband and down to your dripping heat.

“Oh,” you whimpered, his knuckles brushing against your slick core, as he watched your reaction. "Joe…," you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper, a mixture of desperation and desire. “P- please…need to feel you…,”. 

His lips curved into a smirk against your neck as his fingers moved deeper, exploring your warmth. “So needy…is that why you did this…strip naked? Say all that shit to me? To get my attention?”. One thick finger slid in, your walls immediately clenching around it as he pushed it deeper. 

“O- Ohhh,” you sputtered, then dropped your head onto his shoulder, your hips slowly moving back and forth against his–now damp–shorts. 

“That’s it,” he praised, his voice dripping with satisfaction as his scruff pressed harder against the sensitive skin of your neck. You’d never get tired of feeling his scratchy scruff against your skin. Whenever you felt it on you, your body knew that you were in for a treat. He then added another finger, his movements rhythmic, precise, and torturously amazing. “You feel so damn perfect, baby,” he whispered, his fingers pumping in and out of your dripping heat with a faint squelching sound. “So tight around my fingers,” he whispered before planting a kiss to your neck. Your hands found his shoulders, clutching onto him for stability as his mouth returned to your ear, his deep groan making your body tremble. “I should hate you for teasing me like that…but how can I when you’re being so good to me now?”.  

“F- fuck,” you whimpered, your eyes fluttering shut as you felt his fingers graze over your sweet spot. “I- I didn’t mean to…tease you. I just w- wanted to help, oh,” you said, each word struggling to come out of your mouth because of your soft gasps and moans. 

“You’re always so helpful, aren’t you?” he hummed, pressing a soft kiss under your ear. “That’s why I love you so much,”. 

The pressure built within you as his fingers moved expertly, curling in ways that made your body dance to the beat of his drum. His lips left a trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses down your neck and to your collarbone, each one sending shockwaves through you. “Agh, Joe, I’m so close,” you whimpered, barely able to form coherent thoughts as the tension inside you coiled tighter and tighter.  

“That’s my girl…such a good girl,” he whispered against your ear, his lips brushing so close that you felt the pressure of every word. “Let go for me, baby. Show me how much you love me,”.  

“Joe, fuck…I-,” you started to say until your breath caught in your throat from the tight feeling in your lower belly. A few more strong pumps later, “Fuck, oh fuck!” you screamed, your body trembling as your walls clenched around his thick fingers and you reached your high, your fingers pulling at his hair.

“That’s it, baby. Let go,” he murmured against your skin, his deep voice wrapping around you like a soft blanket of security. His strong arms held you tightly, grounding you through the intense waves of pleasure coursing through your body as he pressed a few wet kisses along the curve of your neck. His fingers slowed their pace, a delicate, intimate touch now helping you back down from the high he had guided you to. His lips moved up to press soft, tender kisses to your temple, whispering unspoken promises with each one.

Joe knew you were holding back your own emotions as well, likely so that you didn’t burden him with more weight than he already was dealing with. He knew that you had tension built up inside of you, and he noticed that as soon as he got home and saw your eyes. You’d spent the entire night focusing on him, hiding your own thoughts and fears which he knew were eating away at you. He hated seeing you carry that silent load, hated knowing you were sacrificing your own peace for his. That wasn’t how this worked. You needed release, and Joe was determined to give it to you–to make sure you felt just as cared for as he did.

“You’re everything to me, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice taking on a softer tone as his hands gently smoothed over your back. “Everything I’ll ever need,”. 

You felt the room spin when you opened your eyes, your body trembling and your mind clouded by the aftermath of your orgasm. Every nerve in your body was alive, buzzing from the way Joe had just untangled you. Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath, and the first thing your cloudy vision focused on was Joe’s face. His eyes, glossed over with a mix of desire and sincerity, locked onto yours. They had an intensity that sent another shiver down your spine. The heat between you was substantial, and when you shifted slightly, you felt the unmistakable hardness beneath you, pressing firmly against your core. “Joe,” you whispered again, your voice shaky from the tingling sensation in your body. 

He didn’t say a word at first but his hands slid up your back, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t stand even the smallest distance between you. His lips opened slightly, his breathing ragged as his forehead came to rest against yours, his damp hair brushing against your skin. “You’re incredible,” he said, his voice low and husky, sending a fresh wave of warmth coursing through you. “Don’t ever let anyone make you think you’re not, okay?” he said, his hands gripping your hips, keeping you anchored to him, the tension between you far from disappearing.  

You bit your lip, your body still trembling as you leaned forward, your lips brushing against his. “I love you, Joe,” you whispered, the words barely audible but filled with meaning. You then pressed your lips against his, feeling yourself ease up when you felt his tongue enter your mouth with no hesitation. 

The groan that escaped his throat was enough to give away how much he needed you, how much he needed to consume you and be consumed by you. His grasp tightened as he shifted beneath you to try to ignore his hardening cock, but he moved a little too quickly and accidentally jerked his hips up toward you. “Mmm,” he hissed, feeling his sensitive erection grow at the contact with your soaked heat. Although he didn’t want to, he forced himself to abruptly pull away from your lips because of the aching need in his shorts that was getting harder to ignore, “I’m not done with you yet, baby,” he reminded both you and himself. 

You gave a lazy nod, your body melting against his as he moved under you. With a firm grip on your waist, he planted his feet on the ground and stood effortlessly, holding you as if you weighed nothing. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling the comforting, familiar scent of him–clean, warm, and unmistakably Joe. The gentle scrape of his scruff against your cheek sent a pang of arousal right down to your core again.  

Your arms wrapped around his neck, and while he carried you, the soft light of the room caught the promise ring on your left hand. The delicate shimmer of the diamonds made your lips curl into a faint smile, a silent reminder of everything you’d promised to one another–the love, the loyalty, and the unspoken vow that neither of you would let go, no matter how difficult things might get. 

He carried you over to the couch in the corner of the gym, his steps slow and relaxed. His lips brushed against your cheek to plant a quick kiss as he mumbled, “You okay, babe?”. 

You nodded against him, your voice muffled as you whispered, “Perfect,”.

A chuckle left his lips, “Yeah, you are,” he replied, knowing that when you were with him, ‘perfect’ was always the answer. 

He reached the plush couch and gently lowered you onto the cushions, before straightening up and flashing you with a look so intense it sent a wave of heat coursing through every inch of your body. That long, lingering stare had you squirming below him, desperate for him to touch you again.  

Without breaking eye contact, he slipped out of the last bit of his clothes, his muscles flexing with every small movement. When he finally leaned down, his weight settling over you, the warmth of his bare skin against yours made you shiver. His hands were planted on either side of you, caging you in, but it never felt suffocating–it felt safe. He hovered there, close enough for his breath to mix with yours as his deep blue eyes searched your face, silently asking for reassurance. Any doubt or hesitation in his mind disappeared the second he saw the love reflected in your gaze. “You’re all I’ll ever need,” he whispered, brushing his lips tenderly over yours like a prayer. “You’re the only good thing in my life, and I’m so fucking lucky to have you,”.  

His words should have triggered something–a little siren in your brain, an alarm to unpack the weight of what he’d just said. The only good thing in his life? The significance of that sentence should have hit you harder. But the way he said it–the raw vulnerability in his voice, the tenderness of his touch–made your thoughts blur. The intoxicating mix of love and lust overpowered everything else, and all you could focus on was him and this intimate moment. 

“Joe,” you whispered softly, though it wasn’t a protest. If anything, it was a plea.  

That was all it took for him to close the distance again, his mouth stuck on yours in a kiss that was as desperate as it was soft. Each tug and push was more demanding than the last. His teeth grazed your lower lip before pulling it lightly, earning a soft whimper from you that urged him on. His hands roamed your sides, sliding down to grip your hips possessively. “You drive me crazy, you know that?” he murmured against your lips, his breath hot and uneven. “Don’t know what I’d do without you,”. 

Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath, your voice coming out in a whisper. “You don’t have to. I’m here, Joe. Always,”. 

He smirked, but his eyes softened at your words. “Damn right you are,” he murmured before dipping his head to trail kisses along your jawline and down your neck. His scruff scraped against your sensitive skin, sending shivers down your spine as his lips latched onto a sweet spot just below your ear. You gasped, your grip on his hair tightening as he sucked and nipped at the tender skin, leaving his mark for you to find later. “Joe,” you breathed, your voice trembling as his hands slid under your thighs, pulling you impossibly closer. 

“Shh, baby,” he grunted, his lips brushing against your ear. “Let me take care of you. Just let go,”.

His hands gripped your hips with a force that caused your vision to go hazy as he adjusted himself above you. When he finally pushed into you, slow and gently, your body arched against him. A breathy moan escaped your lips as he filled you completely, every inch of him sending sparks of pleasure coursing through you. “Oh, shit,” you moaned, your mouth falling open as you dug your head back into the couch. 

“God, baby,” he rasped, his forehead resting against yours as his hips began to move, his thrusts slow but deep. “You feel…so fucking good,” he moaned, his lips just inches from yours to the point where your breaths were mixing.

“Joe,” you whimpered, your nails digging into his back as he set a steady, rhythmic pace. You could feel the remnants of his sweat on his back, the pheromonic smell of it sending you into another dimension. It mixed with his natural scent, and all of that was now pressing onto your body, the air around you smelling like a delicious cocktail of natural musk, sweat, and sex. Each thrust was precise, hitting that spot inside you that made your toes curl. “Please…don’t stop. Don’t ever s- stop,”.  

His lips brushed over your ear as he whispered, “Don’t worry, baby. I’m not stopping until you can’t think of anything but me,”. His pace quickened slightly, each roll of his hips deliberate and full of intent. 

You moved your hands along the curves of his sculpted back, feeling his large muscles and the slowly loosening tension beneath his golden skin. “Joey,” you gasped, your voice trembling. “Please…I- do whatever you have to do…to relax…f- fuck,”.  

You wanted him to let go, fully let go. You needed him to let go. It may have been difficult to break through the tension in his mind right now, but you knew that this would help him. There was so much tension pent up inside of his body from the field and from what happened off the field, he needed to let go, and you were right there to help him. 

“Oh, I will,” he murmured, matter of factly. “I just need to hear you first. Can you do that for me? Be a little louder? Use that pretty little mouth of yours the way you were meant to,”. 

“F- fuck, okay,” you whimpered, and with each snap of his hips, you got louder and louder. Your moans urged him on, his hips rutting into yours with more urgency now, his movements becoming almost primal as he chased the pleasure of feeling you wrapped around him. “God, Joe. You always do it so good, ohhh,”. 

Joe’s forehead pressed against yours again, his breaths mixing with yours as he forced into you with a steady, hard pace. The pleasure rapidly builds in your body, only growing stronger with every pump of his large cock. The heat between you was overwhelming, every movement sending shivers coursing through your body. His lips hovered just inches from yours, teasing yet comforting, which reminds you he was right there with you. As his hands caressed your sides in a loving manner that made your heart flutter, he said. “I love you, you know that?”. 

“Please, Joe. Don’t stop,” you whimpered, throwing your head to the side as your voice trembled with need; the couch began to creak under you due to the strength of his thrusts. “Joe, don’t stop ever,”. 

His hips didn’t stutter even for a split second, his rhythm was perfect and unrelenting. “Listen to me,” he insisted, quickly using his hand to move your face back to his, his tone gentle and commanding. “You know I love you, right?” he asked again, his cock pounding into your heat with more force to punctuate his words. 

You gasped when his lips found the sensitive skin of your neck, his teeth grazing before he bit and sucked gently, leaving his mark on you. “O- Oh, Joey,” you moaned, your fingers tangling in his damp hair. “Yeah, y- yeah. I know you love me, baby,”.  

“Good,” he rasped, his forehead pressed to yours again as he kept that hypnotic pace. “Because I fucking do. I love you more than anything,”.  

“Oh my god, Joe,” you choked, your back arching as he adjusted his angle by cupping the back of your knee and lifting your leg a little, hitting a spot that made your vision blur. 

“God damn, baby,” he groaned, his voice strained with pleasure as he felt you open up more than before. “You’re so fucking beautiful, taking me like this. Fuck, I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he said, looking down at his shaft disappearing in and out of your heat, somehow even leaving a little imprint in your lower belly. The sounds filling the room added to the haze, the melodic sound of his cock slapping in and out of your soaked core almost as beautiful as the sounds coming from your lips. 

“Joey. Joey. Joe, fuck,” you cried out, your nails digging into his shoulders.“Right there–oh my god, Joe, right there!” you screamed, feeling his cock hitting your g-spot over and over, his tip abusing your cervix in the best possible way. 

“Yeah? Right there?” he panted, his breath hot against your skin. “That make you feel good? You like that?” he asked, his next thrust being ever rougher so he could hit the spot again. The sight of your breasts bouncing back and forth from the intensity of his thrusts made his eyes roll back, “Damn,” he grunted under his breath. 

“Oh, fuck yeah. Shit,” you whimpered, your body trembling beneath him, your brain completely dark as you lost yourself in his heated touch.  

His lips found yours again, silencing your moans as his pace quickened. “You’re my girl,” he whispered against your mouth, his voice filled with confidence. “My special girl. Nobody can hurt you, not as long as I’m by your side,”.  

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes, overwhelmed by the intimacy and the way his words wrapped around your heart like a protective shield. And well, also because he usually had a knack for sending you to the verge of tears when he was a little intense with you like this. “I know…I- I know, Joe. I’m your girl,” you whispered, your voice cracking as another wave of pleasure overtook you. “Ah,” you hissed, closing your eyes from the overwhelming amount of pleasure you were feeling.  

“That’s right,” he groaned, his hips pressing into you deeper, his pace becoming erratic as he chased his own release. “You’re mine, Y/N. Forever mine,”.  

Your eyes met his baby blues, and you felt a warmth behind them that had been missing for weeks. There was a familiar spark between you as if everything else had faded away, leaving just the two of you in this intimate moment. You had finally broken through the barriers he put up. The way he held you now, the way he talked to you now, was different. He was confident, relaxed, and full of raw need. 

As his lips met yours in another kiss, the words he spoke were soft, yet they carried the weight of everything he had been holding back. “I need you,” he whispered between kisses, his voice raw with emotion. “P- please don’t ever leave me, I-. I need you, baby,” he said again, his earlier emotions threatening to take over during this heated affair. 

“I’m yours,” you breathed out, your brain jumping over what he just said, again. “I’m here for y- you…always, fuck-,”. Your legs moved around him, pulling him closer as the pressure coiled tighter and tighter in your core. Your head fell back against the couch, a loud moan escaping your lips as you trembled beneath him. “God, Joe! F- fuck, I can’t…oh my god,” you moaned, breathy gasps falling from your lips with no end in sight.

Joe didn’t stop, his hips slowing just enough to ride you through your nearing high while he continued murmuring sweet, filthy praises against your skin. “Fuck, baby. You were made for me, made for me to fuck you like this,” he groaned, his cock twitching inside of you as your walls convulsed around him.  

You clung to him, your body still shaking as he slowed his movements, his own release edging closer. His lips pressed against your ears, his breath hot and jagged as he whimpered your name over and over. “Let me take care of you,” you murmured, feeling the need to let him know that this wasn’t only about you–hell it wasn’t supposed to be about you. “Let go, Joey. Do what you need to do,”.  

Joe’s eyes locked with yours, the intensity in his gaze stealing your breath all over again. With a groan, he pushed forward, capturing your lips in another kiss so deep it left no doubt–he was yours, and you were his. Always.  

“Oh, I’m so close,” you whimpered, feeling the band in your belly tighten and your walls start to close in on his thick shaft. 

“Fuck…me too, baby,” he whined, picking up the speed of his thrusts while moving a hand down to your bundle of nerves. His fingers fondled your clit expertly, knowing exactly what you liked and how you needed it. And a few seconds later, you felt a wave of pleasure wash over your body. “God, Joe!” you screamed, throwing your head back into the pillows as you arched into him, “Fuck, I’m cumming,” you whimpered. 

“Yeah?” he growled, pushing into your snug walls with more force. “You gonna let go for me? You gonna stop thinking about what those fucking idiots said earlier? Ah. You gonna relax for me?” he groaned, his voice strained as he felt himself tip over the edge from the way you were reacting underneath him. 

“Y- yeah, I will,” you moaned as your body trembled beneath his sweaty frame, caving at the power of his words. Your adorably scrunched-up nose, your fluttering eyes, your rosy cheeks, and your grip on his shoulders were all enough for him to reach his high. He was the only one to have you like this–so vulnerable and raw. And that thought drove him feral. 

“Y/N,” he groaned, his voice thick with pleasure. “Oh, fuck…Y/N,”. With one final, powerful thrust, you felt him come undone, his entire body trembling as he shattered against you. His cock twitched deep inside, flooding your core with his release as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his teeth clamping down on your shoulder to silence his moans. Your name fell from his lips like a prayer and his arms wrapped tightly around you as if you were the only thing anchoring him to the earth. “God, Y/N…,” he panted, his breath hot against your skin as he pushed himself deeper, making sure every last bit of him filled you. 

“Joe,” you whimpered softly, the faint sting below making your voice shake. “Oh m- my god…,” you breathed out, aftershocks of your orgasm washing over you while your eyes adjusted to the room; his arms tightened instinctively around you almost like he could protect you from even the smallest discomfort. 

You felt so achingly full–the feeling of his load and softening cock deep inside of you, and his hand sprawled across your stomach making you a little dizzy. His fingertips began tracing slow, soothing patterns along the curve of your hip, his touch bringing you back down to earth. 

He lifted his head enough to look at you, his messy hair and lazy eyes looking all too familiar. The corners of his mouth curved into a small, satisfied smile as his baby blue eyes softened. “You wore me out, princess,” he murmured, his voice carrying that delicious, raspy edge you loved so much. “But I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you,”.  

The warmth in his voice was matched by the way he looked at you, his expression a blend of admiration, affection, and a touch of exhaustion. 

“Thank you, god,” you thought to yourself. 

He pressed a soft kiss to your temple, his lips lingering as if he didn’t want to let the moment slip away. “Are you okay?” he asked gently, concern clear in his voice as his thumb brushed over your cheek. “Was I too rough?”.

You shook your head, your hands sliding up to tangle in his hair. “I’m okay,” you whispered, smiling up at him. “Better than okay,”.  

His smile grew, and he leaned down to kiss you again, this time slower, softer, as if he was pouring all the emotions he couldn’t put into words into that single moment. When he pulled back, he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, his eyes never leaving yours. “You’re amazing,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I mean it, Y/N. You’re my everything. I’m so sorry about everything that happened today,”.  

The sincerity in his voice and the way he looked at you made your chest swell with love. You reached up, cupping his face in your hands, your thumb brushing over the curve of his jaw. “Hey, we don’t have to talk about that right now. Just relax. I’m here,” you whispered back, your words filled with quiet certainty as you ran your other hand up along his chest and stopped at his heart. “You might be a stubborn ass sometimes,” you began, earning a lazy chuckle from him. “But you’re all mine…you’re my everything. I love you,”.

“I’m still sorry for–,” he began, but you didn’t let him finish. You leaned up, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that cut off his unnecessary apology. It was soft but firm, a clear message that he didn’t need to say anything more. When you pulled back, your eyes met his. Those gentle, puppy dog eyes of yours told him everything you wanted him to know–your forgiveness, your love, and your reassurance–all without a single word. He exhaled deeply, his shoulders relaxing as he gave you a small, grateful smile. 

He took the hint—that you didn’t want to talk about this right now—and kept the conversation going. The last thing he wanted to do was press you about this after he had just gotten you to loosen up. “That was a way better workout than running,” he mumbled, dropping his head down to your chest and breathing in your calming scent as his fingers brushed against your belly; tracing little shapes into your plush skin.

You chuckled weakly, the sound barely a breath as your exhaustion caught up to you. “Mm, good…that was the plan,” your eyelids grew heavier, and the soothing rhythm of his heartbeat against your body pulled you closer to the edge of sleep. 

“You were extra loud tonight too,” he shamelessly teased, pressing a kiss to your belly. “I liked that,”. 

“…You ask and I deliver..,” you replied lazily, fighting back a yawn. 

Joe noticed the way your responses slowed, your breathing evening out as you succumbed to the warmth and safety of his embrace. “Hey,” he whispered, “You’re fading on me, aren’t you?”.

“Hmm,” you hummed, feeling yourself fall further into slumber. “Mm, tiredd,” you dragged out, yawing again as you closed your eyes for a few seconds. 

“Alright, sleeping beauty,” he murmured, his voice the softest it’d been all night. “Let’s get you to bed, yeah?” he said and moved with such caution as he knew by the look in your eyes that you were exhausted in more ways than one. You stirred a little, nuzzling into his chest as he picked you up in his arms, your body instinctively latching onto the comfort he offered. 

Joe carried you through the quiet house, the dim light casting soft shadows across his face. He looked down at you, his lips curving into a fond smile as you whispered something in your sleep. “I love you, Joey,” you mumbled, rubbing your cheek against his chest out of comfort. 

“I love you too,” Joe mumbled as he pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead, and as he pulled away to look at you, he felt a tug at his heart. You looked so delicate, so precious in his arms and he couldn’t help but feel guilty for making you act this worried about him. You never showed it, but he knew that you were struggling–that you had been since November. “I’m going to be there for you, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m not going to let anyone hurt you. Not again, not ever,”. 

When he reached the bedroom, he gently lowered you onto the bed, tucking the covers around you with practiced ease. For a second, he just stood there, watching the way your peaceful face softened in the comfort of your bed. Leaning down, he pressed one last kiss to your forehead. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. 

Sliding into bed next to you, Joe wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close as he settled in. Even in your sleep, you turned into him, your body naturally finding his warmth. As the quiet night enveloped you both, Joe let out a content sigh, feeling relaxed for the first time all day. Despite the storm raging inside his head, he managed to find shelter in it for you. Now he hoped you could do the same for him, he hoped you could let yourself be open with him. He hoped you’d allow yourself to let him carry some of your weight for once, especially because it was his fault. 

You did what you needed to do–distracting him to get his mind off of things and bring him back to his safe space. But getting you to relax was the true thing that made him take a deep breath and loosen up. Seeing you curled up against him, a faint smile on your lips, your arms clinging to him; that’s what made him genuinely let go. You weren’t just his distraction; you were his peace. And for the first time in hours, he felt like everything was going to be okay.

The Next Morning��

You stirred gently in your sleep, the light of the morning filtering through the curtains and casting a glow over your bare skin. Your eyes fluttered open, lashes brushing against your cheeks as you adjusted to the faint sunshine which was limited by the clouds. A soft, sleepy whine escaped your lips, the remnants of slumber clinging to you as the day began to break through the haze of your dreams.

You turned your head to the space next to you, your nose brushing against his pillow, filling your nostrils with a clean, subtle musk mixed with the faded remains of his body wash–a warm, woodsy fragrance with hints of cedar and sandalwood. Mixed with that was the specific, earthy scent of his skin with the light saltiness of sweat from last night. It was uniquely him–raw, grounding, and intoxicatingly familiar. 

But he wasn’t there. 

“Morning meetings,” you sighed, remembering that he had a typical routine to follow and couldn’t just relax in bed all day with you like you wanted him to. 

You turned your head back to the ceiling, giving yourself a moment to breathe before slowly sitting up. As you moved, a deep, dull ache spread between your thighs–a lingering memento from the night before. “Ooooh,” you hissed softly, biting your lip and carefully lifting your hips to ease the pressure as you shifted forward. The memory of his intensity made a blush rise to your cheeks, and despite the sting, a playful giggle escaped your lips. “Damn, he really went hard last night,” you murmured to yourself, shaking your head at the thought of Joe's unmatched determination–both on and off the field. 

You swung your legs over the edge of the bed and planted your feet on the cool wooden floor. The difference sent a little shiver up your spine, bringing you back to the present as you stretched your arms, feeling your body wake up from its lingering exhaustion. “I’ll see him in a few hours…might as well pull myself together in the meantime,” you nodded, then stood up and slowly walked over to the closet. You grabbed your baby blue robe and carefully slipped it onto your nude body, your eyes glancing at every mark he left on your body last night. From the scattered marks on your neck to the print of his fingers on your hips, they were all beautiful remnants of him. 

You smiled at your reflection, the hazy glow of pleasure from the night before still on your face. With a light hum and smile, you grabbed your towel and headed for the bathroom, eager to rinse off and start the day.

As you stepped into the bathroom, your eyes landed on the mirror, and you froze. A cluster of sticky notes was taped to the glass, their colorful squares bright against the surface. Your chest swelled with warmth as you leaned closer to read them, “What’d you do this time,” you mumbled.

Gone for some meetings. Shouldn’t take too long, be back around lunch.

Thanks for last night ;) I love you sooooo much!!

(Sorry if you’re in pain…got a little carried away lol. I left out a bottle of Tylenol and your heating pad for you)

– j.b 

Your fingertips brushed over the notes, and a flood of memories came rushing back. The sticky notes reminded you of your first date–the way Joe had taped one to your apartment door. It had simply said: Open the bag below for tonight.

Flashback to LSU – You and Joe’s first date 

“I think I’m going to puke,” you said to Emma while you stared at yourself in your vanity mirror as she finished curling your hair. 

“Not over that gorgeous dress. Aim for the side,” she laughed, setting the final curl and then using her fingers to separate them. 

You felt a blush rise on your cheeks as you looked down at what you were wearing–a special gift from Joe. When you came back to your apartment earlier, there was a neon pink sticky note taped to the door with a silver gift bag at the doorstep. You weren’t expecting anything, so this came to your surprise and when you got closer, the sticky read “Open the bag below for tonight.”. You skeptically opened the bag, only to be met with the best surprise–a beautiful midnight-blue dress with delicate spaghetti straps and a flowy skirt that danced every time you moved. You gasped when you pulled it out of the bag, the soft fabric slipping through your fingers like silk. Another sticky note had been tucked inside the bag, reading, “A beautiful dress for my beautiful girl. Can’t wait to see you tonight :) -  j.b”. 

“He’s…something else,” you grinned to yourself, holding the dress up against your body and admiring the way it sparkled in the light.

Now, hours later, with Emma skillfully finishing your hair and your makeup just right, you were feeling…well, terrified.  

“I’m serious, Em,” you said, twisting in your chair to look at her. “What if I trip in these heels? What if he regrets asking me out? What if I say something stupid, or worse, what if I–,”.

“Stop it.” Emma held her hands up in mock surrender, rolling her eyes. “First of all, you’re not tripping anywhere. Second, Joe Burrow is down-bad obsessed with you, so let’s not even entertain that nonsense. Third, you won’t say anything stupid because you’re charming as hell. Just relax,”.  

You bit your lip, a smile tugging at the corners despite your nerves. “...You think he’s…Obsessed? Really?”.

“Uh, yeah. The man went and picked out a gorgeous, sparkly, expensive–did I mention gorgeous–dress for you. And we all know how men do when it comes to picking things out for girls,” she rolled her eyes. “Joe nailed it and you’re only a girl he met only a few weeks ago but he’s out here like he’s shopping for his fiancee or something. Most guys would just go for flowers or chocolate…but a whole dress–which may or may not retail for $150–,”.

“Wait, what?” you gasped, your eyes widening as you looked down at the outfit. The price tag made your heart race because you’d never worn anything this expensive before–never even imagined it.  

You’d always wanted to feel this beautiful, to have someone make you feel special, like a rare gem. And Joe, of all people, being the one to do that? It completely caught you off guard. Warmth spread through your chest as you realized just how much he was making you feel worth it. The lengths he was going to make tonight the best night ever was something that stuck out to you. Tonight was your first official date, but you two have had plenty of hangouts, flirty exchanges, facetimes, and hour-long text conversations that it didn’t really feel like something as noteworthy as a first date. But that didn’t mean you couldn’t be a little nervous about it. It was a date with…Joe Burrow of course. 

“That’s next-level dedication,” Emma finished, smoothing the skirt of the dress as you stood to admire the full sparkle effect in the mirror. If it was nearly $200, those sparkles better be doing their damn job. “Besides, have you seen the way he looks at you? Either he’s looking at you with severe bedroom eyes or with the most love physically possible…like when we hit up that frat party at Sigma Phi Epsilon last weekend? All of the girls that usually chase after him were there, begging for some form of his attention, but Joe just looked at you. Claire even bumped into him on purpose and spilled her drink on herself to get him to say something to her, but when he saw you with that look in your eyes–the one you get when you feel anxious–he dropped everything to walk straight across the room from his guys and her…to you. Joe was glued to your hip the entire night, constantly checking on you even when you didn’t notice. He was the center of attention at the party—just like any other party—but he didn’t care about anyone except for the girl next to him. Everybody’s watchin’ him, but he’s lookin’ at you. That tiger’s tail is wrapped right around your finger, babe,”. 

Your stomach did a backflip as her words registered in your mind, the gentle ache in your heart intensifying at the mention of that party. The party solidified Joe’s uniqueness amongst the guys at LSU. You remembered standing in the middle of the crowded room, clutching a red solo cup filled with cheap, overly sweet alcohol. The music blared, the bass vibrating in your chest like a second heartbeat, while the room spun with too many bodies pressed too close. You became hyper-aware of everything—the way some guys looked at you, their eyes lingering a little too long, making your skin crawl. The overwhelming smell of sweat and spilled drinks. The chaotic energy of laughter and voices meshing together.

It all became too much, too fast. Your breaths quickened, your chest tightening as panic began to creep in. The walls seemed to close in on you, and the laughter around you sounded sharp, almost mocking. You were frozen, not sure of how to calm yourself without drawing even more attention. Your friends were nowhere in sight, likely caught up in their own conversations or flirting with someone in another corner of the house. You felt alone, trapped in a wave of anxiety that threatened to drown you.

And then, like a lifeline thrown into stormy waters, you felt it–a large, warm hand on your shoulder. The touch was firm but gentle, instantly grounding you. It was familiar and comforting, like it carried a silent assurance that everything would be okay.

Turning your head, you saw him. Joe. His kind eyes searched yours with a quiet intensity, his presence breaking through the chaos around you. In that moment, the weight on your chest lifted, the tight knot in your stomach loosening as the panic started to fade away. It was as if, somehow, he had known exactly when you needed him most, and he’d been there to catch you before you fell.

You’d struggled with anxiety for as long as you could remember, and all the guys you’d been with had realized that one way or another. But none of them cared. None of them knew how to help you and it was because they didn’t want to. They didn’t want to deal with the emotional baggage, with the nerves that you brought with you everywhere you went. But Joe? Joe did. He wanted to help you, be there for you, take care of you. He didn’t even ask you how he could help, he just…knew. 

He spent the rest of the party by your side, trading your alcohol for a soda, his arm wrapped around your shoulder, his thumb sliding up and down your bare arm, and his attention all on you. 

You felt comfortable for the first time all night by his side. Your mind and body were at ease for once, and you didn’t know how to describe the new feeling you felt. It was a feeling you hadn’t experienced before–something warm and magnetic, yet light and giddy all at once. 

But did everyone see it–the way that Joe looked at you like you were the only thought on his mind? Did they see how much he cared about you? Was he so obvious about it?

The connection between you felt so electric, almost as rare and whimsical as lightning in a bottle. You didn’t know if you should be terrified of that because the lighting could shatter through the glass and burn you at any given moment. But it could also be something beautiful, something extraordinary. The kind of spark people spend their whole lives searching for.

Even though you’d only known each other for a short amount of time, the time you had spent together made it feel like you’d know each other for a lifetime. He quickly picked up on your little habits, moods, likes, and dislikes—literally everything there was to know about you. You quickly learned who Joe was behind that helmet and jersey he put on every week, who he was behind his hard-shelled demeanor. He let you in without thinking twice, showing you parts of him he had guarded off for a reason. And you did the same. You didn’t know why since normally you’d be hesitant on showing a guy your weaknesses, your most vulnerable aspects, because you thought they would take advantage of them. But Joe never made you feel like he’d do that to you. 

“I just hope he feels the same about me. I really really like him and it’s kind of scary because I’ve never felt this strongly about anyone before and I don’t want to mess it up or screw it up or I don’t know, not give the right vibe? I-,” you blabbed before Emma spoke up.

“Y/N. You’re rambling again,” she said, shaking her head with a knowing smile. “Stop getting in your head over this, babe. You are so hot, so smart, sooooo nerdy, so genuine, and you bring out a side of him that everyone says they’ve never seen. You are the entire package. It doesn’t get any better than you for him,”.

Her words made you pause, your mouth opening as if to argue, but the look in her eyes stopped you. It was determined, full of confidence in you even when you didn’t believe in yourself. You let out a nervous laugh, running your hands down the fabric of your dress as you tried to absorb her pep talk. “You really think so?” you asked softly, looking up at her with a hint of doubt.

“I know so,” she said firmly, leaning closer and placing her hands on your shoulders again. “You’re amazing, Y/N. And if he doesn’t already know that–which, spoiler alert, he does–he’s about to find out tonight,”.

“...You’re right,” you nodded, taking a deep breath and giving your reflection one last look. If this was meant to be, how tonight’s date would go will show that. There was no reason to stress over it anymore–you just had to leave it to the universe now. “How do I look?” you asked, quickly changing the subject so that you didn’t get lost in your head even more, your eyes roaming from your delicate bracelets to your dainty necklaces, and finally to the star of the show–your dress.

“Like you’re about to knock him on his ass,” Emma said with a wink. 

“I sure hope so,” you muttered under your breath, feeling a butterfly in your stomach at the thought of him seeing you in the dress he had picked out for you. The deep blue of it shimmered under the soft lights, almost like the dress was alive. And if you looked closely, you could swear the color matched the exact shade of his eyes–especially when he was focused, locked in on something that required all his attention, like the shade of his eyes during a football game. The kind of intensity you could never pull your eyes away from.

You couldn’t help but wonder if that was why he chose this dress, if the color reminded him of that fire in his eyes when he was doing or looking at something that mattered to him. The thought made your heart race just a little faster because he always had a way of making you feel like you were the only thing in the world that mattered to him when you were together. His eyes were always the same shade as this dress when he looked at you. 

You realized he wasn’t just buying a dress for you. He was buying something that made you feel like you were seen, truly seen by him.

“I know so,” she repeated, her eyes shining with a knowing smile. “Remember, Y/N. He chose you. He decided to ask you out. He chooses you every day, whether it’s spending every free afternoon with you or calling you for hours before he goes to bed. He’s not doing it because he has to; he’s doing it because he wants to. He wants this with you. He wants you,”.

She was right, and you knew that deep down in your heart—the same heart that was slowly having his name carved into it. Joe always had this gentle smile when he looked at you, this way about him that instantly made you feel comfortable. Everything about him screamed comfortable. But he also had this way about him that made you want to forget the rules, to let your hair down in the breeze, to forget about life for just a second, and to savor each moment for what it was. He made you feel alive. Ever since you met him, the world seemed to take on a new energy, like someone had turned up the saturation in your life. Colors looked richer, sounds felt clearer, and every little thing had a kind of magic it hadn’t before. Joe had this effortless way of bringing joy into your life that nobody else had ever done. He made you laugh harder than you ever thought possible, those deep belly laughs that left you breathless and grinning ear to ear. He made you smile longer too, the kind of smile that lingered even when he wasn’t around, sparked by a memory or the very thought of him. 

And those butterflies–oh, those butterflies. They were stubborn, fluttering in your chest every time his name crossed your mind. Whether it was the memory of his laugh, the way his hand brushed yours, or the way his voice dipped when he said your name, they never failed to make their presence known. He wasn’t just someone who made you happy; he made you feel everything more deeply. With Joe, the world was brighter, lighter, alive.

Just like this dress. 

—

While you were inside your apartment getting ready and feeling those stubborn butterflies all over again, Joe was standing in front of the mirror in Ja’marr’s apartment, adjusting his button-up for what felt like the hundredth time. 

“Man, relax,” Ja’marr said, lounging on his bed while tossing a football in the air. “It’s just a date. You acting like you about to propose or something,”.  

“Easy for you to say,” Joe muttered, tugging at the sleeves. “She’s...she’s different. This isn’t just any date,”.  

Justin, sitting at the desk scrolling through his phone, looked up and grinned. “He’s whipped already and they haven’t even gone out yet. Looks like Joey done got struck by cupid’s arrow,” he teased.

“‘Bout damn time too!” Ja’marr nodded. “I’m tired of this man complaining ‘bout how he don’t got a girl when he sees the couples out and about or someone to build legos with ever since I started hangin’ with Shyla,”.  

Joe shot him a glare, but it was half-hearted. He couldn’t deny it–he was whipped. Ever since he’d worked up the courage to ask you out, you’d been all he could think about. He wanted everything to be perfect tonight, down to the smallest detail. “You think she’ll like the dress and flowers?” Joe asked, ignoring Ja’marr’s comments and glancing nervously at the bouquet of carnations and roses sitting on the desk next to the container filled with smarties. 

“Boy,” Ja’marr said, catching the football and sitting up. “You nailed it. She’s gonna look amazing in it, and she’s gonna love that you went out of ya way to pick that out from the most expensive store in the mall and the flowers out. Hell, I think she’ll lose it for real once she sees the smarties box,”.  

Justin chuckled. “You stressing too much, bro. Just be yourself. You know she already likes you, right?”. 

Joe sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I know, but...she’s special. I don’t want to screw this up,”.  

“Special, huh?” Ja’marr teased, smirking at Justin as they both thought the same thing. With the way Joe had talked about you to them plus how he was acting right now only made it clear that he was serious serious about you. They couldn’t really place their finger on why since you’d only known each other for a short amount of time, but they weren’t going to question it as long as Joe had that boyish smile and glow on his face, the smile and glow you put on his face. 

“Yeah, special,” Joe said firmly, his jaw setting as he turned to face his friends. “She’s not like anyone else I’ve ever met. She’s so smart, adorably funny, so natural, and so damn beautiful, and I don’t want her thinking she made a mistake agreeing to this…'cause well…dating the star quarterback sounds scary as hell. I don’t want her to feel nervous around me because of who I am and what I do,”.  

Justin and Ja’marr exchanged a look, their smirks softening into understanding smiles. “Boy quit worrying,” Justin said, standing up and lightly punching Joe on the shoulder. “She seems like a great girl…a lot better than the girls that throw themselves at you. You got this,”. 

“Claire,” Ja’marr coughed. 

“Just keep your cool? Like how you do during a game. Think of it like that,” Justin added. 

Ja’marr nodded, leaning back on his bed. “And if you don’t, well, just let your awkward charm work for you. Girls eat that up,”.  

Joe rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips. “Thanks, guys. Really great advice,”.  

“Anytime,” Justin smiled. “Now go pick her up before she thinks you bailed,” he said, turning Joe around to face the door. 

But Joe wasn’t done with his nervous ranting just yet. “What if I say something stupid though? I don’t want her to be uncomfortable. Or wait, what if I don’t say the things I should be saying? I really like her and I don’t want to make her feel like I don’t, y’know? Like I want her to know I’m taking this seriously,” Joe rambled, overthinking every detail about tonight. “What if she hates the dress? What if she hates the dinner set up? I-”.

“Joe.” Ja’marr shouted, shooting up from his bed and walking over to his best friend. “Wake the fuck up man? What’s wrong with you?” he questioned. “Why you actin’ like you don’t know how to do this?”. 

“I…I don’t know,” he admitted, not sure why he was worrying about tonight. You never gave him a reason to worry, so why was he so scared about messing things up with you? Joe sighed, running a hand through his hair as he paced the length of the room. “It’s just...she’s different, y’know? She’s not like anyone else. I’ve never felt this way about someone before,”.

Ja’marr crossed his arms, leaning against the wall as he watched Joe unravel. “Bro, she already likes you. Hell, she said yes to the date, didn’t she? You’re Joe freakin’ Burrow. Stop psyching yourself out,”.

“But that’s the thing,” Joe argued, stopping mid-step and looking at his friend with a mix of frustration and vulnerability. “I don’t want her to like me just because I’m Joe freakin’ Burrow. I want her to like me, the real me,”.

Justin finally chimed in, a smirk evident on his face. “So show her the real you, man. Don’t overthink it. You’re a good guy, Joe. She already knows that, or she wouldn’t be wasting her time on you,”.

Joe dropped into a chair, his elbows resting on his knees as he hung his head, his stomach doing nervous backflips as if he was getting ready for the biggest game of his entire career. “I just...I really don’t want to screw this up,”.

“Joe, don’t be doing that,” Ja’marr said firmly, patting a hand on Joe’s shoulder. “She’s gonna love the dress, the dinner, all of it. And if she doesn’t, she’s not the one. Just relax, man,”.

Joe let out a shaky laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, okay. Relax. Sure,”.

Justin chuckled, throwing a pillow at him. “For real, though, don’t overthink it. She’s probably over there freaking out just as much as you are,”.

Joe tilted his head, a small smile tugging at his lips as he imagined you running around, freaking out about the date with a tube of mascara in hand and a mirror in the other. “You think so?”. 

“Guaranteed,” Ja’marr said with a grin. “She’s probably stressing about the exact same things you are. Don’t underestimate the depths of girl talk. Shyla told me it’s more than just gossip and talking about sex. They always freakin’ out ‘bout something like their nail color or that their period is late or some shit,”. 

“What?” Joe twisted his head and questioned, not understanding what Ja’marr was getting at and if the thought of you gossiping about him and sex–the sex you haven’t had yet–was supposed to make him feel better. 

“Don’t worry ‘bout it. Now, come on, Romeo. That clock is tickin’, and you got a girl to get. Pull your head up, straighten them shoulders out, take a deep breath, and go get the future Mrs. Burrow,” Ja’marr nodded, his tone half-serious but laced with the usual teasing that always seemed to calm Joe’s nerves.  

Joe couldn’t help but chuckle at his friend’s words, the humor breaking through his anxiety just enough to loosen the tightness in his chest. Leave it to Ja’marr to keep him grounded, even when he felt like he was about to jump out of his own skin. “Alright, alright,” Joe said, standing up and rolling his shoulders back like he was about to step onto the field for a game-winning drive. He took a deep breath, letting the tension in his body melt away as he focused on one thing–you. The thought of your smile, the way your eyes lit up when you laughed, and the softness of your voice filled his mind like a relaxer. Those memories were his anchor, steadying him when the nerves threatened to take over. He looked down at the bouquet in one hand and the container of smarties in the other, his lips shifting into a small, almost boyish smile. He couldn’t believe just a few months ago he was thinking he’d never find the right girl, that he’d be alone for the rest of his life and not have someone to share his happiness with. And now here he was, absolutely obsessed with the greatest woman he had ever come across. The one woman who completely rocked his world the moment she walked in.  

“Alright,” Joe murmured to himself. With one last deep breath and a few goodbyes, he turned to head out, the flutter of anxious energy in his stomach transforming into a feeling of excitement.  

As he walked to his car, Ja’marr’s last words echoed in his mind, making him shake his head with a grin. “Future Mrs. Burrow,” he muttered, the thought simultaneously terrifying and exhilarating. 

The time you spent in those few weeks had made it beautifully clear that you were different from the other girls he’d been with. You gave him a feeling that he’d never felt before, a feeling that only comes around once in a person’s lifetime. That feeling you get when you feel like you’ve met the one. 

You made him feel that feeling.

Maybe you were the future Mrs. Burrow. 

“Only one way to find out,” Joe smiled, staring at the bouquet of flowers he had for you. 

—

A little later, after receiving a text from Joe that he was on his way, you were standing by your door and giving yourself a mental pep talk as your heart hammered against your chest. “Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. It’s just Joe. Everything will be fine. You’ve been alone with him plenty of times before. You can do this,” you told yourself, then heard a soft knock on the door which made your heart skip a beat. “Oh god, he’s here. Just don’t throw up or say the wrong words and it’ll be fine…right?”.

You took one final, deep, long breath before you opened the door to find Joe standing there with his arms behind his back, looking effortlessly handsome in a crisp white, long-sleeved button-up and black pants.  

“Oh, fuck he looks good,” was your first of many shameful thoughts of the night. 

For a moment, neither of you said anything out loud. His eyes scanned you from head to toe before his lips parted. “Wow,” he said, his tone laced with awe, his eyes widening and his stomach fluttering as if he had just come across the most gorgeous thing he’d ever laid his eyes on–which you honestly were. “You l- look...absolutely stunning,”.  

“God, she looks even sexier than usual. The blue really brings out her smile and eyes…,” he thought to himself, his eyes landing on your hips, then your chest, lingering for a second too long which made your breath hitch. 

Your cheeks flushed so hard you could feel the warmth spread to your ears. “The d- dress really s- suits you,” he said, moving back to your eyes, awkwardly letting the words fall from his lips as he felt his heart palpitate in his chest. 

He was stuttering. He was standing here in front of you, stuttering because he couldn’t comprehend how beautiful you looked; his baby blue eyes wider than ever before as he was bouncing back and forth on his feet. 

He was nervous.

Joe Burrow was nervous, because of you. 

Adorable.

“Thanks to you,” you replied softly, glancing down at the dress he picked out, and brushing the fabric nervously with your fingers. “This dress…it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. You have great taste, it’s exactly what I like and I love it. Thank you for this, Joey,”.

Joe’s lips curved into a more peaceful smile now that he knew you liked it, one that reached his eyes, and then, as if remembering something, he brought forward one of his hands. Your eyes widened as he brought out a bouquet–your favorite mix of carnations and roses, arranged in a delicate bundle and wrapped in crisp pink paper.  “These are for you,” he said, his voice shy.

For a moment, you just stared, your heart swelling in your chest as a wave of emotion threatened to smoosh you. The flowers were perfect, like he’d thought of you with each petal–which he did because he remembered you telling him all about your favorite flowers. From the specific flower shop to the specific flowers, to the colors and combinations, you rambled about it for minutes when you grabbed a post-practice meal with him last week. Even though he was sore, tired, and sleepy, he still listened to you as if you were giving the State of the Union address at the White House; like what you were saying was life-altering important. 

You reached out slowly, your fingers brushing his as you took them. “They’re beautiful,” you whispered, feeling your throat tighten. “You’re so sweet, J. I love them,”.  

The vulnerability in your voice must have touched his heart directly because his smile deepened, his gaze softening. “They reminded me of you,” he said simply. “Delicate and gorgeous, their beauty shines through each soft petal-like how you effortlessly light up every room you walk into, leaving everyone around you–especially me–in awe,”. 

“I-,”.

“Oh, and I have something else for you,” he added, bringing forth his other hand, which held a medium-sized, clear container in it.

Your eyes widened as you peeked inside, “There is no way he-,” you thought, realizing it was filled with unwrapped smarties. “Oh my god,” you gasped out loud. “Joe, did you- did you actually unwrap all of these?”.

He shrugged, a bashful smile tugging at his lips. “You told me how much you hated unwrapping them, so…I figured I’d save you the trouble,”.

Holy shit. 

A few nights ago, during a late-night FaceTime call–the kind that only happened when both of you couldn’t sleep–you found yourself rambling about the little things to each other. The conversation had started with a casual “What are you doing?” that spiraled into a deep dive into your love for smarties.

You had told Joe the story with a soft smile on your face, remembering how your brother built the logo of your favorite football team out of the colorful candies for your birthday one year. It was one of your favorite memories, and ever since then, smarties have become your go-to comfort snack. “I love them,” you confessed. “But I hate unwrapping them. It’s so tedious. Like, why do they need to make it that hard to enjoy them?”.

Joe had laughed at the time, shaking his head at how passionate you sounded about something so simple. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he had said with a grin, his face brightened by the glow of his phone screen.

Now, standing in front of you with a container of what looked like more than a hundred pieces of unwrapped smarties, Joe Burrow was proving once again that he paid attention to everything you said.

Your heart swelled, and you couldn’t stop the wide grin spreading across your face. “Joe Burrow, you are ridiculous,” you said, but your tone was soft, full of affection.

“I’m resourceful,” he corrected with a nod, his smile turning playful. “And besides, you deserve to have your smarties stress-free, even if it might have taken me a few hours to make sure of it,”.

You laughed, reaching out to touch his arm. “This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me. You really know how to make a girl feel special,”.

His grin softened as he looked down at you, his blue eyes glowing in the evening light. “You’re worth it,” he said simply, the seriousness in his tone making your chest tighten with a giddy feeling.

You clutched the flowers and smarties to your chest, feeling the weight of his thoughtfulness settle over you. What he did was such a simple thing, yet the way it made you feel was as if he pronounced his love for you in front of the entire state of Louisiana. But that’s just it, Joe had a way of making the smallest, sincerest, gestures feel like some of the biggest deals ever. He listened to the little things, that’s what made him so special. 

“Okay,” you said with a soft smile. “Now you’re just showing off,” you said, referring to how easily he got you to this point–giggly, shy, and oh so soft. 

He smirked, his confidence returning. “Is it working?”.

“Oh my god, he’s perfect,” you thought to yourself, feeling the urge to skip to the end of the movie that was your life, jump into his arms, and run off into the sunset with him. He was so good at sweet-talking, he made it seem so…easy? He never made it feel forced or like he had to say those things–which again, separated him from every other guy you’d been with. All the other guys made saying these little compliments, sweet nothings, feel like a monotonous chore. But with Joe, it wasn’t like that at all. It couldn’t be with the way those things easily and constantly slipped from his mouth.

Before you could respond, a voice cut through the flirty moment. “Oh, for god’s sake, Lover boy,” Emma laughed from behind you, leaning casually against the kitchen counter with her arms crossed and an exaggerated smirk. “How much longer are you going to stare at her like that? You’ll make her blush right out of that dress,”.  

“Emma!” you hissed, spinning around with a glare.  

She shrugged innocently. “What? I’m just saying,” while popping a bite of a brownie in her mouth. “Just…don’t get her pregnant, okay? I don’t want to babysit like ever,”.  

Your mouth dropped open in sheer mortification, and your face burned so hot you thought you might combust on the spot. Behind you, Joe let out a low chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish grin as he tried not to laugh too hard. “Emma!” you snapped, your voice strangled as you clutched the flowers tighter.  

“I’m serious,” she laughed. “You were going on and onnn earlier about how you think he’s the hottest man you’d ever seen, how you just want to pull on his soft hair and want him to throw you aroun–,”.

“Emma Lynn!” you screamed in mortification, shutting her down before she could finish what she was saying, Joe’s cheeks turning red as you whined in embarrassment. He did not need to know what went on during girl talk earlier, especially because the things that you said were so…fueled by hormones. 

But you couldn’t really help it? He was seriously the hottest man you’d ever come across. His soft, adorable, gentle nature went so well with his stoic, hard-headed, sometimes cocky, always sexy, character. When you got a mixture of both his sides, you were right on your knees in front of him. The things you wanted him to do to you would quite literally set feminism back by a few hundred years. 

“I’m just teasing,” she lied, giving you a wink as she pushed off the counter. “But seriously, nice flowers, Joe. Maybe you can teach other guys how to not be so clueless,”.  

“Emma, go away!” you glared, feeling incredibly embarrassed by your friend’s teasing. 

She raised her hands in mock surrender, walking towards your bathroom with a smug grin. “Alrighttttttt. You two have fun…but not too much fun,” she said over her shoulder before disappearing down the hall.  

You turned back to Joe, groaning as you covered your face with one hand. “I’m so sorry about her,” you mumbled, peeking at him through your fingers. But Joe didn’t seem flustered. If anything, his smile grew more relaxed, his boyish charm shining through. “It’s okay,” he said, his voice warm and teasing. “She’s...protective, I guess?”.

“More like annoying,” you muttered, shaking your head.  

“Hey, I don’t mind,” he said with a soft laugh. “It’s nice to know you’ve got people looking out for you. Even if they’re a little...direct about it,”.  

You couldn’t help but laugh, lowering your head. “Yeah, direct is one way to put it,”.  

Joe laughed as he held out his hand, the hand that was always so steady and sure; whether it was gripping a football or your hand, his grip was firm, like he knew exactly what he was going to do at all times. “You ready?” he asked, his deep blue eyes meeting yours, searching for the answer he already seemed to know.

For a moment, everything around you felt different. The air seemed lighter, almost like a soft breeze had wrapped around you both and put you in your own safe cocoon. The sky shifted from baby blue to lilac and orange; you couldn’t tell if it was real or just your imagination.  

Looking at him, clutching the flowers and candy he gave you, a strong feeling rushed through you, one so deep it almost knocked you over. You’d only known Joe for a few weeks, but it felt like longer, like he’d been part of your life forever. There was something about him–a pull, magnetic and impossible to resist–that made you want to stay close, to let him hold you and never let go.  

He gave your hand three gentle squeezes, a small gesture that felt like so much more. You could tell it meant something more, but you didn’t overthink it. It was too soon for that, or at least that’s what your brain said. Right now, all that mattered was him and this special moment.

“Ready,” you smiled, feeling that pull between you tighten once the word left your lips. 

If it was too soon for that then why did it feel like you were saying “ready” for something so much more? This wasn’t a lifelong vow, just a first date. But the significance of the moment hung in the air and it was hard to ignore. Maybe it was the way Joe looked at you, his eyes filled with something you couldn’t quite put into words. Maybe it was the way the dress hugged your body in all the right places, making you feel effortlessly beautiful, or how the soft floral scent of the bouquet in your hands seemed to cast a spell around you, clouding your thoughts and focusing them only on him. Or maybe it was because Joe felt different. A kind of different that wasn’t just exciting–it was safe and grounding but also made you feel exposed in the best way; like he already understood parts of you you hadn’t shared yet. This didn’t feel like just a first date. It felt like the beginning of something bigger, something important.  

Joe must have sensed it too. As he led you out the door, his hand never leaving yours, his pace was slow, unhurried. He looked at you often, his eyes full of stars, like he was etching this moment into memory. It was as if this wasn’t just a step into the night, but a step toward fulfilling something inevitable. Something written in the stars. 

Neither of you said much on the short walk to his car, but his actions spoke volumes. There was a naturality in the way Joe moved around you, a quiet attentiveness that felt so...gentlemanly. When he opened the car door for you, his hand found the small of your back, keeping you steady as you slid into the seat. His touch lingered just a second longer than necessary, sending a shiver up your spine that had nothing to do with the cool evening air. As he walked to the driver’s side, you adjusted in your seat, and you couldn’t help but notice how the tension seemed to grow between you both, turning electric by the second. He didn’t start the car right away, though. Instead, his eyes moved toward you as he waited for you to settle in, like even the small act of buckling your seatbelt deserved his undivided attention.  

Then, with the same quiet thoughtfulness that had your heart doing little flips, he reached out and turned the air conditioner down without a word. It was such a small thing, but it made you pause. 

He remembered. 

He remembered how you’d shivered after one of his games a few weeks ago, and how you’d mentioned, half-jokingly, that you were always cold. That night, he placed his sweatshirt over your shoulders without hesitation–a gesture so casual but so thoughtful it left you floored. He still hadn’t asked for it back, which was great because you wore it to bed almost every night now–which he didn’t need to know. 

You bit your lip to hide the smile creeping onto your face. The fact that he remembered such a tiny detail about you–a throwaway comment from weeks ago–made your heart soar. It wasn’t just the grand gestures, like tonight’s date, but these quiet, understated moments that made you feel seen in a way you never had before.  

A few minutes later, the soft tune of Eventually by Tame Impala played through the car, filling the quiet space. Joe tapped his fingers lightly on the top of the steering wheel, humming along with the song. The streetlights outside cast a soft glow on his face, showing the sharpness of his jawline and the calm look in his eyes.  

But the lights didn’t just light up the road—they brought your emotions into focus, the ones you’d been trying to push down. You couldn’t stop yourself from wondering, were you ready for this? For him?  

You looked over at him. He looked so sure, so steady, and it pulled at something deep inside your chest. Joe wasn’t just another guy. He was someone who could change everything, someone you could fall for completely. It was scary, but at the same time, it felt like there was no turning back. Not now, not with him. He knew what he wanted, now the ball was in your court. 

Being with Joe meant a lot of things: stepping into the spotlight, taking on the role of a quarterback’s girlfriend, and accepting all the emotional ups and downs that came with being with someone chasing a dream as big as the NFL. It meant being recognized by strangers, whispered about in stands and dining halls, and analyzed by people who didn’t even know your last name. It meant late nights comforting him after tough games, early morning pep talks before practices, and balancing your life with the whirlwind of his. 

Were you ready for all that?

And as if on cue, you felt Joe’s soft hand slowly reach over and rest gently on your knee. His touch was soft, but the weight of it felt like an anchor, grounding you in this quiet moment almost as if he knew you were hesitating about this. His thumb moved in slow, deliberate circles over your knee, a simple gesture that sent a comforting warmth spreading through your body. Each soft stroke felt like a promise, an implicit connection that went beyond words. 

And then, you realized being with Joe also meant so much more. It meant laughter that made your cheeks hurt, quiet moments where it felt like the world disappeared, and a kind of love that left you breathless. It meant being someone he could count on when the pressure felt too heavy, and knowing he’d do the same for you without hesitation. It meant being part of his journey–not just as a supportive figure, but as someone he genuinely wanted by his side through it all; someone who he wanted to share his world with. 

Your breath hitched slightly when you felt him give you a squeeze. It was the subtle way he made you feel seen and cared for. It was more than just his hand on your thigh. It was his entire presence, so calm and collected, wrapping around you like a safe hug.

Joe felt safe. You hadn’t felt that kind of feeling in any of your previous relationships, until him. But while he felt safe, he and his world also felt risky. He could leave you heartbroken, shattered beyond repair in the blink of an eye, but he could also make you experience life in a way you would’ve never imagined, show you a love that you thought only existed in the fairytales. Yes, he was a risk, but he was the risk you were willing to take. He was a safe risk. 

And that’s when you realized, without a doubt, that you were ready for this. Ready for him. For all the uncertainties, for the unknowns of what might come next. You were ready for Joe, for whatever this was, wherever it was going. 

You were ready for it because it felt right.

Like all the stars aligned perfectly for the first time in your life. 

And that was something so hard to ignore. 

You looked back up at his face, and this time, his eyes caught yours. “You okay?” he asked, flashing you that gentle, loving smile you had become obsessed with. 

You nodded, “Better than okay, Joey,” while placing your hand over his, picking it up, and pressing your lips to his knuckles–an action that sent butterflies through his body.

—

The soft glow of the candles reflected off the white tablecloth as you walked into the private dining room at Sogno d’Innamorati. The room was intimate and warm, with delicate floral arrangements decorating the small table set perfectly for two. He had rented out the room just for your date, wanting to spend time with you alone and away from any interruptions or distractions. You couldn't remember the last time a guy went this big for the first date, so either Joe was trying to impress you or this was just how he was–intimate and private. 

“He really went all out,” you thought to yourself as Joe guided you inside with his warm touch on the small of your back. A glimpse at the restaurant name on the menu made you tilt your head in curiosity, you wondered what it could have meant.

“This is so beautiful,” you murmured, turning to him with a soft smile. “Sogno d’Innamorati…What does that mean?”.

Joe hesitated for the shortest second, his eyes flickering to you as he rubbed the back of his neck. Then, with a small, slightly bashful grin, he said, “Lover’s dream,”.

You felt your cheeks heat up because of the way he said it, so raspy and almost…shy, sending a shiver through your body. “Lover’s dream?” you repeated softly, a timid smile forming on your face.

He nodded, his eyes locked in on yours for a second longer than intended, “Yeah,” he said, then looking down briefly. “Thought it might be a fitting place for our first date. I heard the food is phenomenal and I thought you might like the vibe, ya know? It’s romantic and warm,”. 

You once again tried to fight back the urge to jump in his arms, but it was getting more and more difficult because he was quite literally sweeping you off your feet with every little thing tonight. “Joe, that’s…that’s so sweet,” you said, nervously glancing from the table to him. “You really went all out for this date…thank you. I love all of it,” you smiled, your facial muscles straining from the amount of times you’d smiled at him in the past hour. 

“God, she’s a lover’s dream,” he thought to himself as he got lost in your eyes–the eyes that had a look in them that seemed like they’d love him for a lifetime. He snapped out of the daze and then led you to your chair, replaying the way your face lit up when you walked into the room over and over again because of how happy you looked.

—

The atmosphere felt light and dreamy, yet tinted with unspoken nervous energy. Joe was being his usual polite and attentive self, pulling out your chair and making sure you were comfortable. But you could tell he was fidgety in the smallest ways–the little adjustments to his cuffs, the quick flick of his fingers over the edge of his wine glass, the fidgeting with his napkin, and his nervous glancing from the menu to your face that he thought you didn’t notice. 

It was absolutely adorable how someone like him could be so nervous around someone like you. 

At first, you both sat across from each other, the classy arrangement of the table separating you. The flowers he’d brought earlier sat between you now, their soft scent mingling with the smell of freshly baked bread and wine. The conversation between you flowed easily, despite the jittery undertone that made you both laugh at yourselves every now and then.

Joe leaned back in his chair,  still fidgeting with the edge of his napkin, a slight chuckle escaping his lips. “So, uh...what’s your favorite part of this whole...dinner thing so far?” he asked, clearly overthinking his question the second it left his mouth.

You raised an eyebrow, a playful grin tugging at your lips. “The whole dinner thing? You mean this?” you gestured to the dimly lit room, the elegant table, and the soft music playing in the background. “I don’t know, I guess...the company?”.

Joe’s face brightened as he realized you were teasing him. “Right, right. The company is, uh, definitely...the best part,”.

You leaned in a little, lowering your voice in mock seriousness. “I’m glad you agree. But I do have to say, the wine is pretty close behind,”.

Joe laughed, his nerves melting a little. “Yeah, wine’s great. I just–,” he paused, glancing down at his hands for a moment, before looking back up at you. “I don’t know, I just don’t want to...I want to make sure you’re having a good time, y’know?”.

Your heart melted a little at his softness and shyness, “He’s still nervous. Aw, Joey,” you thought before you spoke up. “Joe, I’m having a great time. Seriously. You don’t need to worry about me,”.

“I mean,” he continued, rubbing the back of his neck, “I’ve never exactly... done the fancy dinner thing. It’s not... uh...not really my style but I wanted something like this for you,”.

“Oh, I can tell,” you grinned, teasing him again. “The way you looked at the different forks next to your plate earlier told me everything, but you’re pulling it off pretty well. I’ll give you an A for effort,”.

Joe snorted, clearly relieved that you picked up on his vibe. “Okay, well, A for effort, but not, like, a solid A+?”.

You giggled, giving him a playful side eye. “I mean...maybe if you added a little more charm,”.

He leaned forward in shock. “Charm?,” he dramatically gasped, “You mean I’m not charming enough already?”.

You pretended to think about it for a moment, tapping your chin dramatically. “Well, I think you're getting there. But, I might need a few more minutes to decide,”.

Joe let out a dramatic sigh, putting his hand over his heart. “Well, now I’m just heartbroken. I thought I was acing it,”. 

“Like I said, keep up with the charm and maybe my answer will change,” you winked, raising your wine glass to take a sip.  

—

After a while, Joe started shifting in his seat, leaning forward as if the space between you was unbearable. You watched him stand up, and your eyebrows rose in confusion. “What are you doing?” you asked, laughing nervously because you weren’t sure if you said something or did something to make him abruptly get up. 

“I don’t like this,” he said simply, shaking his head in disapproval.

You felt your heart stop, your stomach churn, and the room catch on fire all within the span of a few seconds. “Oh, it’s over. I fucked up. I ruined the date and he doesn’t want this anymore,” you thought, feeling a wave of nausea come over you as you stared at Joe. You had a knack for jumping to conclusions in moments like these, which is why when you saw him pick up his chair, walk around the table, and place it next to yours, you froze.

Oh.

When he sat back down, he smiled, looking much more at peace and genuinely comfortable. “Better,” he murmured, casually draping his arm over the back of your chair, his body warmth immediately enveloping you.

You felt his fingers softly grazing your shoulder, each touch giving your heart the much-needed shocks to start back up again. You didn’t have to do that, you know,” you said, teasing but secretly loving how close he was and how he physically couldn’t be that far away from you.

“I wanted to,” he said matter-of-factly, his blue eyes sparkling. “Wanted to be close to you,”.

You felt his lips press against your temple in a tender kiss, his hand continuing to rub gentle circles on your bare shoulder. The softness of the gesture and the way he let out a quiet laugh–like he was still a little nervous–made you smile.

“Can’t stay away from me, Burrow?” you teased, leaning into his body a little more. 

“Nope,” he admitted, smiling against your forehead. “You’ve got me wrapped around your pretty little finger, lovey,”.

Lovey?

The nickname dangled in the air like a soft melody, and you froze for a moment. It wasn’t the nickname itself but the way he said it–so natural, so affectionate, like it had always been yours.

Your head tilted up to look at him, your eyes wide. “Lovey?” you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joe’s cheeks flushed, his confident smile stuttering for just a second before he shrugged, playing it cool. “Yeah,” he said, his voice a little softer now. “It just…fits, doesn’t it?”.

You blinked at him, the surprise thawing into something warmer, something deeper. “You really just came up with that, didn’t you?”.

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Maybe. But it feels right,”.

The way his eyes met yours, so sincere and steady, made your heart skip a beat. “Lovey,” you repeated again, this time with a soft smile pulling at your lips. “I kind of…love it,”.

Joe grinned, that boyish, lopsided grin that made you feel like you were the only person in the world. “Good,” he said, pulling you a little closer. “Because I’m not taking it back,”.

You laughed, your cheeks warm as you leaned into him again. “You’re such a softie, Burrow. Who would’ve guessed that the stone-cold LSU quarterback was such a sappy, lover boy deep down?”. But…I like it. I like you like this,”.

“Guess I just needed the right person to bring out that side to me, lovey,” he winked. 

Your heart fluttered at the way he said it again, and you knew right then and there that you’d never get tired of hearing that nickname–or the way he made you feel like you were his entire world.

—

The mood shifted as the main courses arrived and the yummy smell of Italian cuisine filled the air. Everything was flowing so easily between you two, and at one point, you caught him staring at you a little longer than usual. “What?” you asked, feeling a little nervous but excited by the way he was looking at you. 

“Sei così bella in questa luce,” he said with a smirk, his voice soft and warm.

You blinked at him, your lips parting slightly in surprise. “Wait. What?”.

He cleared his throat, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips. “It means…you look so beautiful in this light,”.

“Oh my god,” you thought to yourself, “He fucking knows Italian? Is he real?”. 

Your heart skipped a beat as your hand instinctively rose to your cheek. “Joe Burrow,” you whispered, your voice laced with surprise and a touch of shyness. “You know Italian?” you asked while shaking your head in disbelief. What did this man not know?

“A little bit,” he shrugged, though the twinkle in his eyes told you he was lying. He’d actually memorized a few one-liners for you tonight, hoping to add to the vibe and impress you. 

“Hmmm..Really?” you teased. 

He smirked again, leaning back as he tried to keep his cool, “Mi piace sentire il suono della tua risata,” he said, his voice smoother than silk.

You tilted your head, your curiosity piqued as you raised your eyebrow at him. “And what does that mean?”.

“I love hearing the sound of your laugh,” he translated, his excited eyes never leaving yours.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, the sound making his lips curve into a bigger smile. “Anything else you’ve got up your sleeve?” you asked, leaning forward slightly. 

His smirk deepened as he leaned in, his voice a husky whisper. “Sei incredibilmente bella con questo vestito e mi fai sudare,”.

The words sounded impossibly romantic in his deep, husky voice, but the way his cheeks turned pink after saying it made you suspicious. “Okay, now I need to know what that means,” you said, your grin widening.

“It means…you look insanely gorgeous in this dress, and it’s making me sweat,” he admitted, his bashful tone contrasting with the boldness of the words.

You burst out laughing, your head tipping back as you giggle, “You are unbelievable,”. 

“Is it working, though?” he asked, his grin turning boyish as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Oh, absolutely. You’re smooth as hell, Burrow,” you grinned. 

“I mean, I’m being serious, Y/N,” Joe said, the tone of his voice and look in his eyes shifting to something more intense. "You look...really good,".

There was something about the way he looked at you, like he was seeing you for the first time again, but in a way that made you feel seen in all the right ways. “Is that so?” you smirked, leaning back in your chair, pretending to be casual, but the heat flooding your cheeks gave you away. “What exactly about this...look is doing it for you?”.

Joe let out a low laugh, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the edge of his wine glass as his eyes flickered between your lips and your eyes. “Honestly? Everything. The way that dress fits you? It’s like you were made to wear it. It’s...dangerous how good you look,” he said, his eyes roaming your body so incredibly slowly.

You could feel the tension rising between you, like a spark that kept threatening to catch fire. “Dangerous, huh?” You raised an eyebrow, the playful tone in your voice just barely hiding the way your body was reacting to his words. “Careful, Joe. You keep talking like that, and I might just make you regret it,”.

Joe's eyes darkened in an instant, his gaze dropping to your lips before flicking back up to meet yours. “I don’t think I’d regret a single thing about tonight, Y/N,” he said, his voice a low growl, the flirtation clear in his tone.

A rush of heat spread through you, pooling low in your stomach as you felt the tension spark between you like static. You couldn't help but bite your lip, the pull between you two undeniable. “Mmm, well,” you said, voice just barely above a whisper, “Maybe I should keep you guessing. Who knows? You might find out if there’s something worth regretting,”.

Joe chuckled, a deep, throaty sound that made your heart flutter. “Trust me,” he said, his voice dropping even lower, “You’ve got me exactly where you want me. No regrets tonight from me,".

For a second, the world around you faded away. There was nothing but the soft music in the background and the quiet hum of the restaurant, yet it felt like the two of you were in your own little bubble, the air thick with something you were both thinking, but not daring to say. The way his eyes were latched onto yours made it impossible to ignore the heat radiating between you, his confidence and attraction to you only adding to the feeling.

“So,” you said, breaking the tension with a flirtatious tilt of your head, “You think you can handle me?"

“I’m not sure I can handle you,” he murmured, his lips twitching as he felt his heart rate increase. “But god, I want to try,”.

The words hit you like a spark, igniting something inside you that had been building ever since you first locked eyes tonight. “Well," you said, voice thick with lust, “If you’re up for the challenge…,” you trailed off, letting the words linger in the air between you. The teasing smile never left your lips, but you could tell by the way Joe’s breath caught that he was feeling the same thing.

He leaned in a little closer, his thumb brushing against your knuckles before looking at you, “Oh, I’m definitely up for it,” he said, now leaning in closer to your lips, his hot breath hitting them like a rush of hot air on a cold, icy day.

But before either of you could close the gap between your lips, the sound of the door creaking open shattered the moment. A few servers entered, carrying more dishes and breaking the intense silence with the clatter of dishes. You both blinked, suddenly extracted from the magnetic pull between you.

You couldn’t help but laugh at the timing, a soft giggle escaping your lips as you reached out, giving his thigh a playful tap. “Saved by the food,” you said, grinning at the adorable pout forming on his lips. His brows furrowed in mock frustration, but there was a twinkle in his eye that told you he wasn’t truly disappointed.

“Guess I’ll have to wait a little longer,” Joe teased, leaning back in his chair, his lips curling into a sly smile. But you could still see the heat in his eyes, the way his body was still subtly leaning toward you as if he were counting down the seconds until he could pick up where you left off.

“I adore your patience, Quarterback," you teased, unable to hide the smirk tugging at your lips.

“All for you, babe,” Joe murmured, another spark of electricity being sent to your heart when you felt his hand squeeze your bare thigh. But as the servers set down the dishes in front of you, the tension between you both simmered just beneath the surface. You both knew it wasn’t over–not by a long shot.

—

The heated tension between you settled for a little as the two of you continued eating and chatting from everything to football to embarrassing stories from your childhood. As you got to know more about him, it was clear that Joe was just like any other guy. He may have been the star of LSU, but right now, he was just Joe. He didn’t make you feel like you were talking to the most sought out man in Louisiana, he made you feel like you were talking to him. No extra status, no other titles, just simply Joe. 

You leaned into Joe’s side, feeling his steady arm around your shoulders as you giggled at your own antics. “I can’t believe you did that,” Joe chuckled, shaking his head after you’d told him about a poor attempt to be a magician that ended in spilled juice, a ruined rug, and one very upset parent.  

“I was seven, Joe! And in my defense, the rabbit just wouldn’t cooperate,” you said, pouting slightly.  

“Sure,” he teased, his lips turning into that charming half-smile you adored. “And what about the juice? Did it jump out of your hand, too?”. 

“Whatever,” you said, trying to sound annoyed, but the laughter in your voice gave you away. 

“Your turn. What’s the most embarrassing thing little Joey B did?”.

Joe groaned, his head falling back dramatically as he laughed. “Oh, man. There’s one that my parents never let me live down,”.  

“Oh, this is going to be good,” you said, your eyes lighting up with excitement.  

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, the corner of his eyes crinkling from happiness. “Okay, so I was maybe two or three, and we went to this pumpkin patch for Halloween. I guess I got a little too excited about one of the pumpkins,”.  

“Too excited?” you asked.  

He nodded, biting his lip to keep from laughing at his own story. “Yeah. I saw this big, hollowed-out pumpkin they were using as decoration, and for some reason, my brilliant little brain thought it was a great idea to crawl inside,”. 

Your jaw dropped, and then you burst out laughing. “Wait, inside? Like all the way?”  

“All the way,” Joe admitted, grinning sheepishly. “And then I got stuck. Like, really stuck. They had to tip the pumpkin over and basically pull me out by my feet,”.  

You gasped, doubling over with laughter, your hand clutching your stomach. “Joe! Oh my god! That’s the cutest thing I’ve ever heard. Little pumpkin Joe,”.  

“I know, I know,” he said, his laughter mixing with yours. “My parents even took a picture. I had pumpkin guts in my hair and everything. They still show it off every Thanksgiving…specifically when I try to take a bite of Pumpkin Pie,”.  

“That is adorable,” you said, leaning into him and looking up at him with a fond smile. “You were a tiny little pumpkin burglar. I bet you were the cutest kid,”.  

Joe laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he looked down at you. “I don’t know about that...but I was definitely a little menace,”.  

“Well, now I need to see that picture,” you teased, poking his side gently.  

“Not a chance,” he said, shaking his head, though his smile was soft.  

“C’mon,” you pleaded, giving him your best puppy-dog eyes.  

“Maybe,” he conceded, laughing when you lit up triumphantly. “But only if you promise not to bring it up every time we see a pumpkin,”.  

“No promises,” you teased, leaning up to kiss his cheek, sending a shiver down his spine. “Pumpkin Burglar. It has a nice ring to it,”.  

He groaned, but the grin on his face told you he secretly loved how much joy the story had brought you. “Well, Ms. Houdini, I’ll have you know that Pumpkin, especially Pumpkin Pie, is my favorite thing ever. So yeah, I guess I am a Pumpkin Burglar,”.

“And I guess that makes me Ms. Houdini,” you said with a playful shrug.

Joe chuckled, leaning back slightly with an amused twinkle in his eyes. “Oh, you mean with your failed magic trick attempt? At least I made it into the pumpkin,”.

“Hey,” you opposed, narrowing your eyes at him. “I might have bombed that one, but I think the trick I’m pulling off right now is going pretty well,”.

“Oh?” he asked, raising an eyebrow, his smile widening. “And what magic trick is that, Ms. Houdini?”.

You leaned in just a little, your confidence strengthened by the way he was looking at you, his attention completely yours. “Making you fall for me,” you said, your voice light but teasing, a wink punctuating your words.

Joe blinked, clearly caught off guard by your boldness, before a slow grin spread across his face. “Oh, is that what this is?” he said, his tone dropping just a little, a hint of something deeper laced through his words.

You tilted your head, matching his energy. “Is it working?”

He didn’t answer instantly, his gaze dropping to your lips for a split second before meeting your eyes again. “Yes,” he admitted boldly.

A laugh left your lips before you looked at him again, “Good,” you whispered.

“What happens when the trick’s over?” he asked, his voice low, teasing but with an edge of seriousness. He was enjoying his night with you, but he couldn’t help but wonder what would happen when it ended, what would happen if the trick ended. 

“Who says it ever ends?” you shot back, a small smirk tugging at your lips as you grabbed his hand and intertwined your fingers with his, assuring him with your touch that you were not going anywhere. 

—

A little later, as you continued sharing stories and talking until your mouths went numb, the soft tune of “Look After You” by The Fray started to fill the cozy private dining room, adding to the intimate atmosphere Joe had so carefully curated. His leg bounced nervously under the table, his fingers tapping against his thigh as the song played in the back. 

He had spent way too long thinking over the song choices when the restaurant manager asked for recommendations. Most of his picks were safe, but something had compelled him to throw this one into the mix. Now that he was actually hearing it play, he wasn’t sure if it was too much. Would you think it was too forward? Was it too soon? 

It’s not like the song was exactly…casual.

Joe was lost in his own thoughts, nearly missing the way your eyes lit up as the lyrics caught your attention. 

“Oh, oh, Be my baby, Oh, oh. It's always have and never hold, You've begun to feel like home yeah, What's mine is yours to leave or take, What's mine is yours to make your own,”. 

“Oh my god,” you said softly, a nostalgic smile forming on your face, “I love this song,”.

Joe froze for a second, his eyes darting to yours, “You do?” he asked, clearly nervous by the way his voice was slightly trembling. 

You nodded as you leaned closer, “Yeah, it’s one of my favorites. It’s so…romantic,”.

The tension dissolved from his shoulders as he leaned back in his chair, a shy grin pulling at his lips. “I thought it might be a little, uh…on the nose,” he admitted. 

You laughed softly, reaching out to rest your hand on his arm. “It’s perfect, Joey,” you assured him, your touch grounding him in a way that words couldn’t. “All the songs that you played were so perfect,”. 

“Even Mine by Taylor Swift?” he asked, raising a brow as a playful smile tugged at the corner of his lips. The song had played earlier, and now that he thought about it, it might’ve been a little too on the nose. He looked at you, genuinely curious.

Without hesitation, you boldly replied, “Mhm. You know why? Because you are the best thing that’s ever been mine,”. Your words were confident, but your heart raced as the weight of what you’d just said settled over you. A small part of you worried–was it too soon? Too much?

But Joe didn’t seem fazed at all. In fact, his eyes softened, his expression contemplative. “Mine,” he murmured under his breath, as if he was testing the word, letting it roll off his tongue with a certain ease. The way he said it sent a shiver down your spine.

He didn’t just like the sound of it. He wanted it. He wanted you to be his–completely, fully, undeniably his. He didn’t want to share your smiles, your laughs, your love with anyone else. That word, simple as it was, held so much meaning to him.

It was only a matter of time before the two of you had that conversation. The feelings you shared were too strong to ignore, and the connection between you was so obvious that anyone nearby could feel the pull. All that was left now was for you both to be brave enough to face it, to acknowledge the love that had quietly woven itself into your hearts.

—

As the night went on, the feeling didn’t waver, it only got stronger, maybe even louder. It was the gestures, the little things he did that made you fall even harder for him, like he was all yours and was doing this just for you. 

He poured your water before you even noticed your glass was half-empty. Whenever you were talking, he gave you all his attention, his eyes glued to yours, his face tilted to you, and his arm resting around your shoulder. And the entire time you were at dinner, he never looked at his phone. He asked if you were cold, if you needed some fresh air, if you needed to use the bathroom. When you moved in your seat, he asked if you were comfortable, adjusting the chair slightly for you. “Good?” he asked, his voice so sweet it made your cheeks hotter than the sun.

“Perfect,” you replied softly, resting your head against his shoulder for just a moment, this movement making his heart skip a beat. “You’re such a gentleman, Joe Burrow,” you mumbled, smiling like a madman into his chest. 

“And you deserve nothing less,” he said under his breath before he glanced down at you, his lips curling into a small smile at the sight of how peaceful, how natural you fit next to his body. “You okay?”.

“Yeah,” you whispered, looking up at him. “Just…very comfortable,”.

It wasn’t long before you placed a soft, warm kiss against his neck, the warmth of your lips making him stiffen for a moment before relaxing into your touch. His hand, which had been resting on your shoulder, slid down to hold your hand, his thumb grazing the back of it. When you ran your hand lightly along his thigh, you felt his muscles tense, and a low laugh rumbled from his chest. “Careful,” he murmured, though the slight hitch in his breath betrayed him.

You weren’t usually this touchy feely–not on a first date. Neither was he. But something about tonight felt different. There was an enchanting, magical pull between you, a sense of comfort that got rid of any awkwardness. Neither of you could deny that the spark between you was just seconds away from fully catching on fire. 

Joe pressed another kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering this time. “You feel different,” he murmured, almost to himself.

“What do you mean?” you asked, lifting your head to meet his gaze.

“Just…better. Like this is supposed to be happening,” he said, his blue eyes soft as they searched yours. “Like this is exactly where I’m supposed to be. Here, with you. Doing this with you,”. 

Your chest tightened at his words, a warmth blossoming in your heart. You felt it too–that same inexplicable connection. You leaned into him again, your head on his shoulder, and sighed contentedly. “Me too,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, but he heard it. “You feel different…good different,”. 

“You know,” he started, “I didn’t think tonight would feel like this,”.

You tilted your head to look at him, your brows lifting slightly. “Like what?”.

“Like home,” he admitted, his lips curving into a small smile. “I thought it’d be fun, you know, easygoing. But being here with you? It’s more than that. It feels…right,”.

Your heart swelled at his words, the sincerity in his tone leaving no room for doubt. “I get that,” you said quietly, your fingers instinctively tightening around his. “It’s like…like I’ve known you forever, but also like I’m just starting to figure you out,”.

Joe nodded, his gaze softening as he looked at you. “Exactly. It’s crazy, isn’t it? How someone can just...fit into your life like they were always supposed to be there,”.

You felt your cheeks heat under his gaze, the intensity of his words making your pulse quicken. “I don’t know how you do it,” you said, your voice almost a whisper. “How you make me feel so safe and…seen,”.

His expression turned serious, the playful glint in his eyes replaced with something deeper. “You deserve to feel that way,” he said firmly. “Every single day. And I–” He paused, as if searching for the right words. “I want to be the one to make sure you do,”.

Your breath hitched at his confession, the weight of his words settling in your chest. You could see it in his eyes–he wasn’t just saying this. He meant every word.

“Joe…,” you started, but the emotion in your voice made it impossible to continue.

He leaned in, pressing another soft kiss to your temple. “It’s okay,” he murmured. “You don’t have to say anything right now. I just…needed you to know,”.

You nodded, your eyes stinging with emotion as you rested your head against his shoulder again. “Thank you,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. “For tonight. For…everything,”.

Joe smiled, his hand coming up to cradle your face gently. “You don’t have to thank me,” he said, his voice full of warmth. “I’d do it all over again, a hundred times, just to see you smile like that,”.

And in that moment, you realized you didn’t just feel different. You felt loved. Truly, deeply loved.

—

The drive back to Joe’s apartment was a mix of anticipation and tension so thick it could be cut with a knife. The earlier first date anxiety you both had at dinner had melted as fast as your heart did when Joe wrapped his arm around your waist, his touch firm, sure, and almost heated, to lead you out to his car. It was fully dark by the time you went outside, so all the stars were on full display in the night sky above you. You think you might have rambled on about the stars and constellations for about 10 minutes, not caring that Joe was silent the entire time and you were just talking on and on about the things you learned in your astrology class. He just watched in awe, letting you nerd out in the most adorable way possible. After a certain point, you got a little insecure at his silence so you quickly stopped in the middle of your mini-lesson about the meaning behind the Cassiopeia constellation, to which he replied by dropping a lingering kiss on your cheek, then on your ear and whispered, “Keep going. Hearing you talk nerd makes you even hotter than you already are,”.  

That little comment sealed the deal. Now, there was a different kind of energy between you; it was magnetic, hot, and alluring; you could feel it in every shared glance, every quick touch. You had a taste of this energy earlier before you were interrupted by the restaurant staff who were a reminder that you two were still in public, but now that you were actually alone again, the energy was back and somehow stronger. 

Joe’s hand rested on your bare thigh, his thumb absentmindedly drawing small circles against your skin. The touch was light, yet it sent ripples of electricity through your body. He looked at you a few times, his lips curling into a soft, cheeky grin that felt both charming and inviting. The dim light of the dashboard brightened his features, and you couldn’t help but let your gaze linger on the sharpness of his jawline and the way his adam's apple bobbed every time he swallowed.  

“He’s…so so so hot,” you thought, feeling another rush of heat to your lower belly as your eyes roamed his thick, muscular body. “The angels themselves literally crafted him from gold. I mean, look at his arms? And oh…his hand on my thigh? I wonder what it feels like to have those hands all over your body? I just want those two hands on me at all fucking times, gripping my waist, sliding up and down my arm, squeezing my ass…Or that tongue painting pictures across my skin. Damn, I need him-,”. You swore you heard the sound of a bomb exploding because of the way you froze in fear, “What.” you mumbled, startled by your own thoughts, your quiet voice being drowned out by the hum of the tires against the road which prevented him from hearing you. “Woah, Y/N. Chill out? You’re getting way too ahead of yourself, relax. He told you how he felt, but what if he wants to take it slow? Stop letting your hormones control your logic,”. 

But you couldn’t help it because Joe was just…something else. He wasn’t just sexy–though that was obvious–tonight, you saw a side of him that went beyond his looks. He was genuine, thoughtful, and comforting in ways you had never seen before. Every word he spoke, every action he took, showed just how deeply he cared, how much attention he gave to the little details that mattered to you. He was making you feel things you didn’t think you were capable of ever feeling, feelings you thought only existed in fantasies. He was a true gentleman, and all the nerves you had felt earlier seemed silly now. You couldn’t remember why you’d ever questioned this, why you’d hesitated. 

The truth was that beneath all your hesitation laid a repressed thought–something you didn’t want to admit but were now ready to accept. You were falling for him; falling for Joe Burrow in a way that terrified you, yet also filled you with a sense of peace. It wasn’t supposed to feel this safe, this right. But for the first time in your life, you felt like you didn’t need a safety net. Because you knew, no matter what, he would catch you. And that was enough to make you take the leap, headfirst, into everything he had to offer. He told you how he felt about you, he showed you how he felt about you, and now it was your turn to reciprocate the energy. But you just didn’t know exactly how to do it. 

You caught yourself staring at him for a little longer than you should have, deeply lost in your thoughts about him. He caught your gaze, the small tilt of his head prompting you to snap your head to the other side to face the window. He couldn’t help but stare at you when you weren’t looking at him. Joe’s looks at you lingered a little longer than usual, longer than he would let you see. He felt the exact same way about you, your beauty was as captivating as the night sky itself. The way your eyes twinkled in the light of the moon, the way your smile beamed brighter than the stars, the way your body fit so perfectly next to his. From your legs to your gentle thighs, to your soft belly, to your ample breasts, you were the hottest girl he had seen in all his years. He had no idea how he ended up with someone like you, who is not only beautiful physically but also beautiful as a human being. 

“I need to feel her…like everywhere. Her nails dragging across my back, her legs around my waist, fuck even her pretty mouth whispering my name in my ear. She’s so pretty and I just–,” he thought before he froze, his breath hitching in his throat when he saw you move your hair to the side, exposing the crook of your neck. “Holy shit I-. Woah, Joe. Calm down, buddy. She’s not even your girlfriend yet and you’re having those thoughts? Don’t be weird. Easy tiger,” Joe shamefully thought as he imagined your neck displaying pretty purple marks from him. Almost imagined those imaginary purple marks to be a reminder to everyone that you were his. 

Each passing thought strengthened the tension in the car. The date went great and when you left, you two were so giddy and smiley. But once you got into the car, it was silent. A silence that created a unique sense of nervousness that neither of you could understand. This unease stemmed from a shared feeling, but neither of you realized it. He told you how he felt, and despite telling you he didn’t need an answer from you immediately, he actually really wanted one now. You wanted to give it to him, but just didn’t know how. 

When he pulled into the parking lot of his building, you felt your heartbeat quicken for maybe the thousandth time tonight. As you made your way inside, hand in hand, you realized that you’d never been inside his place before, so this was kind of a big deal? And the bubbling sexual tension wasn’t making it any better, either. You’d be in there, all alone, with nobody around, in the vicinity of his private bedroom, and his bed. This could either be as innocent as a movie and some cuddling, or as dangerous as a kiss lasting too long which would turn into being trapped under his sheets (and under him) for the rest of the night. 

“Snap out of it!” you muttered out loud, prompting Joe to snap his head to you as he guided you through the lobby. 

“Hm?” he questioned, a little jittery because of the silence being broken by something as jumpy as that.

“Fuck,” you whispered, before looking up at Joe as he led you into the elevator. “Sorry, just thinking out loud about something…uh..something dumb,” you stuttered, your brain failing to find an excuse. 

Joe looked at you skeptically, his brows furrowing out of confusion. “Are you-,” he started to say before you were joined by a few other people in the elevator which infiltrated your privacy. 

You let out a sigh of relief as the elevator was now filled with the chatter of the other apartment tenants, causing Joe to lose his chance to say something because you knew if he pressed you on it too hard, you wouldn’t have an actual explanation. 

“Weird,” he thought to himself, glancing down at you and seeing you play with the birthstone ring on your finger—the ring he noticed you’d fidget with whenever you got anxious. He first noticed it when you first met at the football practice you accidentally stumbled into, and ever since then, he knew that this was an anxiety-related mechanism.  But…why were you anxious right now? Did he do something? 

“You alright?” Joe whispered, his hand giving yours a soft squeeze as he looked down at you with concern.  

The quick rise and fall of your chest betrayed your nerves, and when you looked up at him, your face didn’t exactly match your nervous reply. “Y- yeah,” you said, the tone in your voice and the way you avoided his eyes told a different story.  

Joe tilted his head, “Are you sure? Because you look–,”.  

The ding of the elevator interrupted him, the doors sliding open to reveal his floor.  

“C’mon,” you cut him off, pulling him out of the elevator and into the dimly lit hallway before he could finish.  

Joe followed, his confusion only growing. You weren’t being subtle about dodging his concern, and he couldn’t help but wonder what had you so wound up all of a sudden.  

When he unlocked the door and stepped inside, you were met by a space that felt unexpectedly personal, almost cozy. The first thing that caught your eye was how much of him was infused into the apartment.  

It was clean but lived-in, with just enough mess to make it feel normal. A framed Athens high school jersey hung proudly on one wall, with a shelf of football memorabilia that added a subtle touch of his career so far. Near his small dining table, a Kid Cudi poster stood out against the neutral walls, its vibrant colors hinting at his taste in music.  

Photos of him from his childhood, some with his parents, and some with his friends adorned the walls and little corner of the room. He seemed to enjoy displaying his most cherished memories and you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d ever find a photo of the two of you in here one day. You knew how much he valued these relationships, but seeing his value for them made that thought hit even harder. 

Your eyes moved to the kitchen island, where a stack of science books sat next to a neatly folded dish towel. “Science books?” you thought to yourself, the detail catching you off guard in the best way. And then there was the Squidward sweatshirt draped over the back of the couch–a hilariously unexpected contrast to the more polished parts of the room.  

You smiled, taking it all in. “Equally as nerdy as sporty. I love it,” you said, letting your eyes roam the space.  

Joe set his keys down and turned toward you, his lips twitching into a grin. “You love it?”. 

“Yeah,” you said, turning to face him fully. “Nothing about this screams football player bachelor pad. It’s…you. And I love that,”.  

His smile softened, his gaze lingering on you for a moment. “I guess I wanted it to feel like home,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “I am pretty far from Ohio so I thought to make this home just like what I had there. I’m glad you think it does,”.  

You nodded, letting the sweetness of his words settle over you as you stepped further into the apartment. The nervous energy that had taken over you in the elevator was starting to fade away, replaced by something quieter and more intimate as you realized just how much of himself Joe had let you see.  

“Make yourself comfortable,” Joe said, the intimacy of the space wrapping around you like a warm blanket. You couldn’t tell if it was the apartment that felt homey, or Joe himself. He grabbed a couple of waters from the kitchen before gesturing toward his bedroom.  

You hesitated, glancing at the door to his room and then back to him, the look on your face as if he had just told you to strip naked and lay out on his bed for him.

“Don’t worry,” he teased, catching your expression. “Just a movie. I promise,”.  

You laughed nervously as he walked over to you and led you to his room, thinking, “Can we not watch it on the couch? Why his room. Am I being punished by the universe for something?”. You didn’t know how this would go–your hormones were all over the place and being so close to him on his bed was just a recipe for disaster. 

When you made it inside his bedroom, you were instantly attracted to his bed–large, inviting, and neatly made with a navy blue comforter that seemed to mirror the color of his eyes. Even his room was clean? Either he did all this for you or he really was the complete opposite of the football player stereotype. There was only a little mess: some piles of clothes, textbooks scattered on his table along with what looked like his football notebook, and some empty water bottles. 

He motioned for you to sit, and you settled on the edge, feeling a mix of nervous excitement and comfort as your eyes scanned the new surroundings. 

He busied himself by setting up the movie–Spiderman: Homecoming–but as it started, neither of you paid any attention. Instead, the conversation from dinner picked back up effortlessly. You eventually lay side by side on his bed after he playfully dragged you up to him by your wrist, the faint glow of the TV illuminating the soft curve of his cute smile. But despite your giggling and silly joking, the electricity in the air from earlier returned. Every accidental brush of his arm against yours sent a jolt through you, and every time your knees bumped, your breath stopped. For the most part, you were doing great at keeping your cool, but you couldn’t help but feel the urge to finish what you started at dinner; to address the electricity humming between your bodies.

“So, do you ever get tired of being the golden boy?” you asked, changing the subject of the conversation from which Marvel superhero you’d want in your corner during the apocalypse. His answer was Wolverine because of his healing abilities and no half-dead human had shit on his claws. Your answer was Spiderman because of his webs, duh, but Joe disagreed and said his heroicness and need to save everyone would get him killed faster than he could swing out of danger. You went back and forth about it for almost 10 minutes before Joe took out the pillow from under his head and smothered you with it to get you to stop yapping about your Marvel crush, your giggles and shrieking filling the room.

Amidst the chaos, you noticed the calendar on his desk, filled with colorful notes that showed his busy schedule. Each day had clear markings for practice days, upcoming games, and other football events. Tonight’s date stood out with a small red heart, suggesting something special. You couldn't help but wonder if he ever wanted a break from his packed schedule–a moment to relax and breathe in the middle of the constant demands of the sport he loved.

“Golden boy? Is that what you think I am?” he questioned. 

You nudged his shoulder gently as you played with the wristbands on his wrist, your heart melting as you saw the football ones. “Well, you’re extremely talented, ridiculously good-looking, and everyone loves you. If the shoe fits…,”.

Joe leaned into you slightly, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Ridiculously good-looking, huh? I think I like where this is going,”.

“Oh, stop it,” you giggled and rolled your eyes. “I just mean that ever since you got here, the spotlight’s been on you nonstop. That didn’t happen to you back at Ohio State. It must be different, right? Even difficult? You can’t go anywhere or do anything without random people coming up to you, and you have all this football stress on your shoulders too. I just wonder if it ever gets tiring. You never get a break, like it’s all football all the time. I don’t think I’d be able to survive what you do if I never got any peace and quiet,”. 

He reached out, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers soft and gentle. The gesture was simple, but the affection in his touch made your heart flutter. “It does get tiring,” he said, his voice fainter now, almost as if he removed a layer from his words and was completely bare in front of you, “But I do get peace and quiet time. A lot more than you’d think, actually,”. 

You raised an eyebrow, “Oh yeah? I don’t think watching an episode of The Office at your locker before practice is classified as peace and quiet time, Joey,”. 

Joe chuckled, “That’s not the peace and quiet time I’m talking about. I’m talking about…you, Y/N”.

Oh. 

Ohhh. 

There it was. Those butterflies. They were blossoming in your stomach again, this time the feeling of them was stronger than they’d ever been before. Your eyes softened, your fingers pausing their fidgety movements as you inched them further down to clutch his. “Joe, I-,”.

“The time I spend with you…it's like everything else fades away,” Joe said, his voice soft and filled with emotion. “You’re my peace and quiet, you know that? When I’m with you, it’s like the rest of the world doesn’t matter–football, school, the whole Golden Boy thing. It all just…disappears,”.

His words made your chest tighten, a warmth blooming in your heart as you searched his face. There was something so raw in the way he looked at you, so open and vulnerable. You could see it in his eyes, the way they softened whenever they met yours. “You have this way of grounding me,” he continued, his voice dropping to barely above a whisper. “Just by being you. I don’t even think you realize it, but you calm me in a way no one else ever has. It’s like…I can finally breathe when I’m with you. I can stop hiding behind the helmet,”.

You felt your eyes well up, the sincerity in his voice hitting you right in the heart. “Joe,” you whispered, your voice trembling as you placed your other hand over his. “You don’t know what that means to me,”.

Being his calm, his peace? That meant the world to you and he had no idea. This was exactly why, every time someone asked about your relationship and you mentioned how short a time you’d known each other, it felt almost laughable. Because time didn’t explain any of this. Time didn’t explain the way he looked at you, like you were the only person in the room. It didn’t explain the way he instinctively knew when you needed reassurance, a touch, or just the sound of his voice saying your name. His actions told a different story–like you’d known each other for a lifetime. 

He smiled, his thumb brushing a tear from your cheek before it could fall. “I don’t think you know what you mean to me,” he said. “I didn’t mean to get so heavy but I mean it. You’re my safe space, my escape from everything. You’re not just someone I like spending time with–you’re the reason I look forward to everything now. You’ve become my favorite person, Y/N,”.

His words wrapped around your heart, squeezing it in the best way. You couldn’t stop the tear that slipped down your cheek, but this time you didn’t care. “I don’t even know what to say,” you admitted, your voice barely audible. The shift in the energy from electric, to giddy, to soft was giving you whiplash–but you loved it. It almost mirrored your relationship with Joe; a plethora of emotions and feelings that had you swooning for him.

Joe shook his head, leaning in closer so his forehead rested against yours. He murmured, his lips ghosting over yours, “Just…stay. Be here with me. That’s all I’ll ever need,”.

You nodded, your hand slipping to the back of his neck as you pulled him into a soft, lingering kiss. It was a kiss that spoke everything you couldn’t put into words–a kiss that said I’m here, I’m not going anywhere, and I feel the same way.

When you finally pulled away, he rested his hand on your cheek, his thumb tracing slow circles. “I don’t care about anything else when I’m with you,” he said, his voice so full of love it made your heartache. “As long as I’ve got you, everything else is just…noise,”.

You smiled through your watery eyes, leaning into his touch. “You’ve got me, Joe. Always,” you promised, your voice steady despite the overwhelming emotions swirling inside you. 

“I love what I do, trust me. But none of this is worth it, none of this is important if I don’t have someone to share it with,” he said, his hand settling on your hip and almost dragging you closer to him. His touch felt needy rather than soft. 

Despite being one of the most talented players in college football, Joe never let the accolades, titles, or prestige define him. That wasn’t who he was. Instead, he displayed himself in the values that truly mattered–his actions, his words, his thoughts. And tonight, with what he had just told you, he had proven that all over again. It wasn’t the grandeur of his achievements that made your heart race; it was him. The way he saw the world, the way he saw his world, the way he saw you.

“And I want to share it with you. Only you. All of this right now and whatever the future brings, whether I go to the NFL or am stuck with some boring 9 to 5. I just want you with me. I don’t know what the future holds, all of this could fade away in the blink of an eye. But the one thing I’m sure about is you. Hell, you might be the only thing I’m sure about,” he confessed, his shoulders releasing the last bit of tension he had inside his body now that he’d told you everything he wanted to. Well…mostly everything. 

You stared at him, unable to pull your gaze away because of what he just said to you. His eyes–lazy yet strikingly alert–held yours like they were trying to say something else his lips hadn’t quite figured out yet. You saw his eyes drop down to your lips here and there, you also felt his fingers slowly moving up and down your waist in a way that was far from innocent. There was a depth there, a feeling he wasn’t used to sharing so quickly but couldn’t seem to help when it came to you.

It hit you then, like a slow, steady wave.

He wanted you. No, he needed you. So much so that he couldn’t quite understand how he’d managed all these years without you by his side…without you in his arms. 

And the truth was, you felt the exact same way.

“Fuck it,” you thought as he saw your eyes darken, and before he could process what you were doing, your lips were on his. The kiss was hesitant at first, a gentle exploration to see if he’d reciprocate the feeling, but the hunger beneath it grew quickly. His hand found its way to your cheek, holding you in place as his lips moved against yours with increasing passion. 

He didn’t want to take it slow, and neither did you.  

Your fingers gripped his shirt, pulling him closer as your heart pounded in your chest. His weight shifted, and he pressed you back against the bed, his body shifting to align with yours. The feel of him, solid and warm, made your head spin. The heat pooling in your panties was hard to ignore, so when he acknowledged it, you felt him smirk into your lips.  

But just as the heat between you threatened to consume you both, Joe pulled back suddenly. His breathing was uneven, his face just inches from yours. His hands trembled slightly as they cupped your face, his thumbs brushing softly over your skin. “I don’t do this on the first date,” he said, his voice hoarse and raspy in a way that made your knees weak. “I just…I don’t want you to think this is all I want. Because it’s not. You’re not just a way for me to get laid. I really, really like you,”.

His words wrapped around you, melting away any lingering doubt. You reached up, your fingers brushing softly along his jawline, the vibe of the moment reflected in your gentle smile. “Joe,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath as you leaned up to press your lips against his, “It’s okay. I don’t do this on the first date either. But with you…everything feels easy. Like I don’t have a care in the world. Like I don’t want to have a care in the world,”,

You gave into the electricity sparking between you, knowing that if you didn’t, you’d regret it for the rest of your life. The words that had been dancing on your tongue all night, scrambling to find their footing, had finally found their rhythm. 

Your eyes searched his, the intensity of your emotions pouring out with every word. “Everything you just said to me…I feel it too. You see me in a way no one else ever has, and in a way no one else ever will. You make me feel safe–so safe–and loved in a way I didn’t even know I was searching for. I love your world and being a small part of it, getting a glimpse of what it’s like, has been the most exciting experience of my life,”. A soft pause settled between you, but it was full of meaning, your heart swelling as you continued. “You’re exactly what I’ve been waiting for, Joe. And now that I’ve found you, I don’t want to let go. I can’t let go. I want you. All of you. And I’m more than okay with this…with us. I want us.”.

“You mean it?” he asked you, his eyes softening at your confession. 

You gave him a smirk and trailed your hand from his soft hair down his back, slipping your fingers under his shirt and lightly scraping your nails along the chiseled expanse of his skin. Your touch sent shivers down his spine, and then you pressed your lips against his to share the warmth he needed. You pulled at his bottom lip, tugging and nipping in a way that revealed your internal desires, “That answer your question?” you asked him after you pulled away. 

Relief washed over his face, and he leaned in to kiss you again, hungrier this time, even slower so he could taste every single inch of you. “Hell yeah,” he smirked as he kissed you. His hands roamed your body with need, each touch more rougher than the last as if he physically couldn’t let go of you let alone want to. “I’ve wanted to do this the second I saw you in this dress,” he whispered, his big hands sliding all along your body over the silky fabric. His touch set each part of your skin ablaze, a fiery path being traced on your body as he grabbed and squeezed anything he could. 

“Please, if you knew the thoughts…mmph, going through my..mm..head on the drive over…ah…here,” you mumbled, his kisses forcibly making you pause in between your words. 

He pulled away from you, his face hovering above yours as he eyes had this raw, unfiltered need in them. A look you hadn’t ever seen in his eyes before, but a look that had you wanting him to consume every part of you. “You shoulda told me then and there,” he smirked. “I could’ve pulled over and fucked you in the back seat of my car if you were that horny,”. 

Your breath hitched at his words, your cheeks turning red as his smirk deepened. “Joe,” you whispered, your voice trembling with both embarrassment and arousal. 

“What?” he teased, his lips brushing against yours but never quite closing the distance. “Don’t tell me you wouldn’t have liked it, baby. The thought of you in my backseat, those pretty legs spread just for me…,”. He groaned softly, his hands sliding down your sides, gripping your hips as he pressed you firmly against him. “I’d have taken my time with you, baby,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your jawline, sending shivers down your spine. “Spreading you out across the seats, my hands gripping these perfect thighs…,” he paused, his grip tightening as if imagining it. “You’d be begging for me to go faster, harder. But I’d make you wait–make you feel every single second of it,”.

You whimpered, your head falling back as his lips traveled to the sensitive spot on your neck, his breath hot against your skin. “Joe,” you breathed, your fingers clutching his biceps, needing something to anchor yourself. 

“Yeah, baby,” he groaned, his teeth nipping your skin before soothing the spot with his tongue. “I can just picture you, your back arched, those gorgeous lips of yours moaning my name while I ruin you in the back of my car,”.

Your heart raced, the mental image combined with his low, raspy voice making your knees weak. “Why didn’t we do that?” you managed to say, your voice shaky.

He chuckled darkly, his hands sliding down to cup your ass, pulling you against him. “Because I wanted to have you like this,” he said, his hips pressing against yours, emphasizing his words. “In my bed, where I could take my time and really show you just how crazy you drive me,”. His eyes locked onto yours, blazing with intensity. “But don’t think for a second I won’t make good on that backseat fantasy someday,” he promised, his voice rough with need. “Because, baby, I’ve got plans for you. So many fucking plans,”.

A shiver ran down your spine at the images his words painted. God, you would’ve loved for him to have his way with you in the back seat of his car. The thrill, the secrecy, the alertness…oh that would have driven you wild. “You’re ridiculous,” you muttered, but your voice betrayed you, dripping with need. The way his entire mood seamlessly switched from soft to drop-dead sexy? Oh yeah, you were in for a damn treat.

“Am I?” he challenged, dipping his head to kiss along your jawline, his lips hot and determined against your skin. “Or am I just saying what you’ve been thinking all night?” his teeth grazed your earlobe, and you gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders.

“Joe,” you moaned, arching into him, your body responding to every word, every touch. “God, you’re driving me insane,”.

“That’s the idea, baby,” he murmured against your neck, his voice husky. His hands slid beneath your thighs, lifting you slightly as he settled deeper between your legs. “So, tell me,” he whispered, his lips trailing lower. “What exactly were you thinking about? Hm? Tell me what you wanted me to do to you,”.

Your breathing was erratic as you tried to find the words. “I…I couldn’t stop thinking about your hands,” you confessed, your voice shaking but honest. “The way you touch me, like you can’t get enough of me…I wanted them everywhere,”.

His groan was throaty, his hands gripping you even tighter. “Fuck, baby,” he rasped. “You don’t know what you do to me,” his lips found yours again, this time with a desperation that matched the fire building between you. His hips pressed against yours, his hardness evident through the thin layers of clothing separating you. “You want my hands everywhere?” he breathed against your lips, his fingers slipping under the hem of your dress, dragging it up slowly. “Then you’ll get them everywhere,”.

Joe’s hands roamed higher, sliding up the smooth skin of your thighs, his touch igniting a fire that made your entire body ache with need. The anticipation was unbearable as his fingers teased the edge of your panties, his lips curving into a devilish smirk against your neck. “You’re already so wet,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, sending shivers down your spine. “All for me, huh?”

“All for you,” you breathed, your hands fisting the fabric of his shirt, desperate for more.

He pressed his hips against yours, grinding slowly, the friction making your head tilt back against the pillows. “You don’t know what you’re doing to me, lovey,” he said, his breath hot against your ear. “The way you moan my name, the way you look at me like you need me as much as I need you…fuck,”.

“I do need you,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “Joe, please. I need you now,”.

His eyes darkened, his restraint clearly slipping as he pulled back just enough to strip off his shirt, revealing his toned chest and the light sheen of sweat glistening on his skin. “Say it again,” he said, his voice commanding but soft, his fingers hooking around the waistband of your panties.

“I need you, Joe,” you repeated, your gaze locked on his, your voice laced with a mix of desperation and desire.

“That’s my girl,” he groaned, tugging your panties down and tossing them aside. His hands returned to your body, exploring every inch of exposed skin as if he couldn’t get enough. His lips found yours again, the kiss deep and consuming, leaving you breathless.

As the remaining layers of clothing were peeled away, there was a rush, an urgency–the two of you needed to feel each other in a way that felt as natural as breathing. His lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of heat in their path, while his hands explored every curve, every inch of skin, as if he was trying to memorize you by touch alone. He was so gentle with you yet so in control, talking you through every little thing, letting you know he was here with you, how beautiful you were, and how much he wanted this with you. The way he looked at you, seeing you completely bare for the first time, was burned into your memory. You thought he couldn’t get any more perfect, but he just continues to prove you wrong every time. 

When he pushed into you, the world seemed to blur, leaving only him–his eyes locked on yours, his whispered words of reassurance and adoration keeping you stable. He moved with a rhythm that was equally as passionate as it was controlled–but you didn’t want him to be controlled. His forehead brushed against yours as he murmured your name like a prayer. “You’re so beautiful, baby,” he whispered, his voice shaky but steady. “You feel so good, fuck,”.

You threw your head back into the pillow as you felt his cock push into your core, exploring you in the most delicious way possible. “Joe. Harder, fuck me harder,” you whimpered, needing to feel him moving against you with no restraints. 

“Y- you sure, beautiful?” he asked, your hands sliding down his sweaty back and into his hair. He was a little hesitant, not wanting to hurt you or push you too far since this was the first time you two were having sex. 

“Y- yes, please,” you breathed, your voice shaky with need as your eyes fluttered open. When they met his, blown wide with lust, it was like a spark igniting a fire. The sight of his messy hair sticking to his forehead, the blush painting his cheeks, and the heat of his breath mingling with yours–it was intoxicating, a perfect cocktail of everything that was Joe.

“Tell me if it’s too much, okay? I need to know you’re okay,” he asked you before pressing a few featherlight kisses along your jaw. 

“I’m okay,” you whispered, your fingers tangling in his damp hair, giving it a soft tug that made him groan. “I want this. I want you,”.

And then, as if that’s all he needed to hear, Joe’s restraint snapped like a tight spring, letting the hunger he had been holding back take over. His hips drove into yours with a need that made your entire body burn, your back arching as the intensity of his movements overwhelmed your senses. Each thrust sent shockwaves through you, his grip on your hips firm and commanding like he was staking his claim on every inch of you.

“You drive me crazy,” he growled against your skin, his voice thick with desire as his lips left a scorching path of wet kisses down your neck. “So fucking crazy, you know that?”, his teeth grazed your collarbone, drawing a sharp gasp from you that only seemed to urge him on. His hands explored your body with a possessive hunger like he was memorizing every curve, every dip, every place that made you tremble.

“Joe,” you whimpered, your fingers tangling in his hair again and pulling, a low, guttural sound escaping him as your nails raked across his scalp. “Don’t stop…please don’t stop,”.

“Never,” he rasped, his lips crashing against yours in a kiss so desperate and raw it left you breathless. His hands grabbed your wrists, pinning yours above your head so that he had you completely under his control, his body pressing into yours as if he couldn’t get close enough, couldn’t have enough of you. “I need you, baby. I’ve needed you for so long,” he confessed, his voice breaking, his movements growing rougher, more frenzied.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper, and the sound he made in response sent a delicious shiver through you. “Harder,” you pleaded, your voice trembling with need. No matter how much he gave you, you wanted more. “Fuck, Joe. Harder,”.

His eyes locked on yours, wild and glassy, as he delivered exactly what you asked for. His hips snapped against yours with relentless precision, every thrust sending you spiraling higher. His headboard banged against his wall, the bed beneath you creaking nonstop at the force of his thrusts. “God, you feel so fucking perfect,” he groaned, his forehead falling against yours. “You’re taking it so well, baby. Damn, where have you b- been all my life,”.

“Right here,” you gasped, your fingers clawing at his shoulders as your body arched again to meet his. “Right here, Joe. Always yours,”. 

His breath hitched at your words, a groan spilling from his lips as his hips drove into you harder, deeper. The force of his movements made the headboard slam louder, but neither of you cared–the world outside that room didn’t exist. It was just the two of you, tangled in this moment, raw and unrestrained. You quite literally have never felt like this. None of the other guys you’d been with prior to Joe were this good, this attentive to what you liked. The way his cock was hitting every sweet spot inside you, pushing you beyond the limits you’d set yourself felt otherworldly. He was the best you’d ever had. 

“Fuck, baby,” he murmured, his voice rough and breathless as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. His lips found your pulse, pressing kisses that sent shivers coursing through your body. “You’re everything, everything I’ve ever needed,”. Joe couldn’t get enough of you, enough of the way you were letting him care for you, enough of the way you were reacting to him. He just couldn’t–. 

“Joe,” you whimpered, gripping the back of his neck, pulling him closer and snapping him out of his daze. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop,”.

“I won’t,” he promised, his voice shaking with the feel of the moment. His hands slid down to your hips, holding you firmly as he angled himself deeper, his pace unrelenting yet filled with so much love it made your heartache. “I’m not stopping, baby. Not until you have everything,”. 

His words sent you over the edge, your body trembling violently as you cried out his name, the sound echoing in the room like a melody. “Joe. Joe. Joee,” you moaned, your eyes rolling to the back of your head at the force of your high. 

“Oh, fuck–,” he moaned at the sound of you whimpering his name, the feel of your walls clenching around him even more enticing than he imagined. “I’m gonna cum,” he said, his grip tightening around your hips as he pounded into you even harder.

“Oh,” you hissed, feeling his cock hit your sweet spot over and over which made the aftershocks of your high feel like pure bliss in your veins. “D- don’t pull out, Joey,” you panted, meeting his eyes once again. 

He looked up at you, his face a mixture of amusement and confusion. “W- what?” he panted, his thrusts becoming uneven which signaled that he was so close. 

“I’m on the pill. I don’t care,” you smiled at him, using your hand to brush back a few of his slick curls before planting a kiss on his chin. “Do whatever you want to me,”. 

Joe's eyes darkened at your words, a low groan ripping from his throat as he buried himself even deeper inside you. “Fuck, baby,” he growled, his voice thick with need. “You’re gonna be the death of me,”. 

You smiled lazily at him, your body trembling under his as you reached up to cup his cheek. “It’s a great way to die then,” you whispered, your voice dripping with desire. 

That was all it took to send him over the edge. His hips slammed into yours with desperate urgency, his grip on your hips almost bruising as he chased his release. “Shit, Y/N,” he groaned, his head falling to your shoulder as his body tensed. “That’s my g- girl,”. As he stilled, his body shaking against yours, you could feel the warmth of him filling you, the new sensation sending a fresh wave of pleasure coursing through your body. His lips found yours in a messy, heated kiss, his breath mixing with yours as he tried to come down from the high. Sounds of skin-hitting skin were soon replaced by heavy breathing and the remnants of your climaxes.  

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, both of you panting and completely lost in the haze. His hands loosened their grip on your hips, moving to gently trace circles on your sides. “You okay?” he murmured, his voice soft but filled with concern.

You smiled up at him, your fingers threading through his damp curls. “Better than okay,” you whispered, brushing your lips against his. “You?”.

A grin spread across his face, that boyish charm shining through despite the flush in his cheeks. “Never better,” he said, pressing another kiss to your lips before trailing down to your jawline and collarbone. “You’re incredible, you know that?”.

You giggled softly, your hands sliding to rest on his shoulders. “So are you, Joey. So are you,”.

He collapsed onto the bed beside you, pulling you into his arms with ease. Even after going at it like rabid bunnies, he still had all his strength in him? Damn. The weight of his body against yours, the sound of his heartbeat under your ear–it was perfect. “I wasn’t kidding when I said you’d be the death of me,” he said, his tone teasing but his expression completely serious. 

You looked up at him, your eyes shining with affection. “Good,” you replied with a smirk, pressing a kiss to his chest. “Because I’m not letting you go anytime soon,”. 

“Promise?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper as his fingers brushed a strand of hair away from your face. 

“Promise,” you said, sealing it with another kiss, one that felt like you were kissing each other's hearts. “Where have you been all my life?” you whispered, your voice shaky but laced with affection as you nuzzled into his chest.

He smiled against your hair, his arms tightening around you. “Right here,” he murmured, echoing your words from earlier, “Waiting for you,”. 

Your breath hitched, and before you could say something, he continued, “You’re one of a kind, Y/N…one of a kind. Which is why…,” he paused, taking a deep breath as his face turned serious. “I want you to be my girlfriend,” he said, searching your eyes for an immediate reaction. “You’re rare…so fucking rare. It’s rare to meet a person like you in this life. And now that I have you, I don’t want to let you go. I know it hasn’t been that long since we’ve known each other, but I seriously have never been so sure about something in my entire life. I meant what I said about you being my peace and quiet. I need that peace and quiet every morning…every night…every week…every year…every time before a game…every time after a game…every time I need someone who can make everything around me disappear. I need someone like you, baby. Someone so perfect, someone who lights up my world the way you do. You’re the one who hangs the stars in my galaxy, the one who completes it,” he added, completely sure of what he was saying but suddenly feeling doubtful because of your blank, emotionless expression. 

“Oh shit. I just scared her, didn’t I?” he instantly thought to himself, realizing how heavy his words were. 

You continued to stare at him in silence, a flurry of butterflies swirling through your stomach and tickling your heart. You couldn’t believe this was real, that he was real. 

“Fuck,” he breathed. “Fuck, I just ruined this, didn’t I? You probably want to take it slow and steady, which is fair because again, we just met not too long ago. And you’re probably stressed about the whole dating a football player thing, which is also fair but I swear I’m not like the other guys. Oh my god. Please don’t think I’m pushing you too fast or…trying to be smooth about this because we had sex…which might I say, it was the best fucking sex I’ve ever had. Wait, what the fuck am I saying? I swear I–,” he rambled in a panic before you leaned up and mashed your lips against his to shut him up. 

His words were cut off by your lips, and he could feel you smiling into him as your chest rumbled from laughter. His nervousness from the dinner date was back, and you couldn’t help but admire how cute he got when he was unsure about something and got in his head. You pulled away, his eyebrows knitted together in confusion as his lips parted to say something, but before he could, you said, “You’re my boyfriend.”. 

“Wait, what?” Joe asked even though he heard you loud and clear. 

“I said…” you began before dropping another kiss to his lips. You pulled away and continued, “You.” then placed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, “Are.” and then a kiss to his chin., “My.” then a kiss to his cheek, “Boyfriend.” you finished, ending the sentence with one more kiss to his plump lips. 

“You mean it?” he asked, genuinely needing you to reassure him because right now, it felt like he was dreaming.

You giggled, and the sound made Joe smile even harder than he already was. “I mean it one thousand percent, Boyfriend. You are all mine, and I am all yours. Completely, utterly, and irrevocably yours. You feel that electricity between us? That’s enough to prove to me that this is different. That you’re different,” you grinned. “You pulled out all the stops for tonight from the dress to the flowers and smarties–which had me on the floor by the way–and then everything at dinner, and now this? God, you’re like the perfect boyfriend, like the heart throbs in the movies. I know that you genuinely care about me and like me, you’ve shown me that since the day we met. And I really like you too, Joe. And I won’t lie when I say that this feels a little risky, but you’re a risk I’m willing to take. You know why? Because you make me feel alive, safe, and so damn loved. With you I'd dance in a storm, in my best dress, at any given time,”. 

“God, I’m so obsessed with you,” he chuckled, the sound vibrating against your cheek, and before you knew it, he was leaning down to kiss you again, the heat between you reigniting like a flame. “I promise I won’t make you regret this. I promise I’ll make you feel loved until I physically can’t anymore. I promise I won’t let anything hurt you,”. 

“And I’m going to hold you to it,” you mumbled between the kiss, letting your body reciprocate those words to him. The way it was responding to his touch was everything he needed to know; the subtle hooking of your leg around his waist, the graze of your nails along his bicep, and the way you were pushing up into him. “I promise I’m…going to be right there with you,” you whispered as he moved his lips from your mouth to your jaw, slowly kissing his way down your glistening body. 

This time, the passion was unrestrained, the desire to feel each other again consuming you both completely. You could feel the growing urge to have each other like that again, and lucky for both of you, you two were so down bad to say no.

“Round two?” you teased, threading your fingers into his hair and pulling his face back to yours. 

Joe looked at you and laughed, then slithered his hands around your hips and easily flipped you onto your back, prompting a shriek from your lips. “Anything for my girlfriend,”.  

“Fantastic,” you shot back with a grin, pulling him down for another kiss. “I think your girlfriend deserves to be reminded of how much you care about her,” you teased before he locked lips with you once again, then used his hand to pull the sheets over you both. 

End of flashback 

“He hasn’t changed a single bit since LSU,” you giggled, your heart fluttering at how thoughtful and romantic his little gestures were. 

Your eyes moved down to the other sticky note, this one reading,

P.S. made you breakfast before i left. your strawberry mango protein smoothie is waiting in the fridge 

to be loved is to be seen, and i see you. always have, and always will. 

j.b 

“Joe,” you whispered, your eyes softening at his last sentence. 

He saw you. He always saw you. He saw your anxieties, he saw your worries, but he also saw your smile, your happiness, your love for him. When he woke up this morning, he knew how awful the past day, past weeks have been for you. And it was all because of his current situation. When he looked at you, all he could see was the worry in your eyes and the hesitation in every word that left your mouth. He needed to do something to bring back that smile, that unwavering happiness that he fell in love with. 

And you felt the same way about him. When you looked at him, all you saw was his self doubt, his fear of failing. You couldn’t see his confidence, his resilience anymore. Nobody could understand his internal struggles, not even you. But you sure as hell weren’t going to let them push you out. 

And then as you stared at the sticky notes—a reminder of Joe and his adorable little gestures, you got an idea. One that could make him feel better, open up, and allow him to relax with you. 

“He’s gone for a few hours, right? What if I do a little lunch date at home for him?” you asked yourself, already pulling out your phone to get started on the idea. This was a great way for him to unwind, for him to feel at ease after how awful the past few days had been for him. And it was also a great way for the two of you to spend time together, the time you’d been craving since football started back up. You both always thrived when it was just the two of you, in those little quiet moments that had you both feeling like you were back in college and didn’t have a care in the world. He was always so relaxed then, even though he was balling out and had the entire state of Louisiana breathing down his neck. He still managed to let loose, give himself some breathing room, a chance to be open despite the weight he had on his shoulders. Ever since he came into the NFL, it’s like there was no room for error for him, no room for him to show his emotions and be vulnerable. And when he did, he felt guilty about it because he felt like he was burdening everyone–especially you–with his feelings. 

—

After finishing up your morning routine and enjoying the delicious smoothie he made for you, you got started on planning your surprise for him. You remembered him mentioning just last week, how he was craving Mexican food. That was all the inspiration you needed. You placed an order for his favorites from your usual go-to Mexican spot downtown, imagining the way his face would light up at the sight of the spread. 

But you didn’t stop there. Knowing Joe, you wanted to add a little something extra–a surprise he’d never expect. You remembered the way he’d lit up talking about The Office Lego set he’d been eyeing for months but never seemed to have a reason for buying it for himself. He always listened to your mindless ramblings about things that caught your eye that you’d never buy for yourself–jewelry, clothes, shoes, bags–and always made sure to buy them for you as soon as he had the chance to. He didn’t ever need a reason to spoil his girl. That was one of the things you loved about him, he was always listening to you even when you thought he wasn’t. You did the same for him, so a few clicks later, the Legos were on their way to come just in time for your lunch date. 

By the time everything was ready, the scene was nearly perfect: the food bags on the living room table, the Lego set placed beside them, and you impatiently waiting for him to come home. But as you sat there on the couch, looking at the setup, something felt off–like it was missing a little magic.

You tilted your head, thinking, and then it hit you like a spark of nostalgia.

A blanket fort.

A grin rose on your face as the memory of those cozy, rainy days you’d spent with Joe came rushing back–days when the two of you would build blanket forts and lose track of time, laughing, snacking, and just being kids at heart. “Oh, hell yeah,” you said to yourself, already gathering pillows and blankets, determined to recreate that same magic. 

If there was one thing Joe loved more than food and Legos, it was the kind of thoughtfulness that made the simplest moments memorable. And you were about to do just that.

You grabbed a few dining room chairs, every plush blanket you could find, and a variety of cloud-like pillows, determined to create the ultimate cozy cave. Piece by piece, you began making your little fort, carefully lining up the chairs and draping the blankets across them with skill. You built a sturdy wall of pillows to keep it snug and inviting, even moving the lamp inside to give it a warm, comfy glow. After a few adjustments to make sure everything was stable, you stepped back to admire your work. The soft light lit up the cozy space, the blankets creating a cocoon of comfort that practically begged to be crawled into. It was perfect–inviting, intimate, and filled with the kind of charm you knew Joe would love.

“I really hope he likes this,” you mumbled to yourself, wanting nothing more than for him to be able to come home and just relax for the first time all week. Your thoughtfulness knew no limits, and Joe always appreciated the hell out of that so you knew he’d like everything you did for him no matter what. 

A few minutes later, as you were carefully placing the food and Lego set inside of the fort, you heard the garage door open, a sign that Joe was finally home. You heard the clank of the keys hitting the kitchen island, and the muffled sounds of him slipping his shoes off, and then his soft voice breaking through the silence, “Baby? I’m home. You in here?” he called out, not seeing the blanket fort in yet. 

“Over here!” you yelled, peeking your head out from the little cave and waving him over. 

He furrowed his brows, a little confused at what you were doing, as he walked over to the couch. You noticed that he had something in his hand, a few bags that made your eyes widen: Taco Bell, Bath & Body Works, and Sephora? “What’s all this?” Joe laughed, seeing the architectural masterpiece that was your little blanket fort. 

“What’s all that?” you shot back, pointing at all the bags in his hand. 

Joe chuckled, setting the bags down on the table and glancing between you and the fort. “This? Just a little pick-me-up for my favorite person,” he said casually, but the slight blush on his cheeks betrayed how much thought he’d put into it. “I felt bad about last night, and everything that happened at the game, and just…, you know, not being around as much lately. Figured I’d spoil you a little tonight,”.

You felt your heart squeeze, the warmth of his words wrapping around you like one of the soft blankets in your fort. “Joe,” you said softly, your voice filled with affection. You quickly came out of the fort and stood up, his opening arms making room for you as usual. “That’s exactly why I did all this,” you gestured toward the fort with a small smile as his arms held you tightly against his warm chest. 

He looked at you for a moment, his expression softening as his hands found your waist, pulling you closer. “You did all this for me?” he asked, his lips forming a little pout.

“Of course,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. “Last night…was rough…,” you began. 

“In more ways than one,” Joe teased, his hand sliding down to your ass and giving it a little squeeze, reminding you just how rough things got last night. 

“Right, in more ways than one,” you giggled. “It was rough and well, everything that happened during the game and you know, the game itself? I just thought you could use some time to relax and just be…Joe. Time for us to just be…us. I’ve missed you,” you sighed, the heaviness of the entire situation still bugging you. “I got you the Mexican food you’ve been craving all week, that Lego set you had your eye on, and topped it all off with the blanket fort. Just like old times,” you said, pressing a kiss to his chest.  

Joe leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment. “I’ve missed you too,” he mumbled, his heart aching at the confession. 

He missed you–missed how easy and comfortable things felt in moments like this. The off-season had been full of moments like these, where it was just the two of you with no rush or stress. But ever since football started, those moments had just…disappeared. He missed the times when it wasn’t about games or busy schedules–just Joe and Y/N, together, feeling at home.

“Thank you for doing this. You always know how to get through to me even when I try to push you away,” he said, his hand moving up your body to cradle the back of your head. He pulled your head back and looked into your eyes briefly, trying to see if you had the same look as you did last night–the tension, the worry, and the fear. It was there, but only bits and pieces; meaning last night worked and everything he had planned for tonight was going to fully push those feelings out the door. 

“I promised you that I’d always be there for you. Nothing, and I mean nothing, is going to stop me, okay?” you smiled, your hands moving up and resting on each side of his neck. 

“I know,” he nodded. “That’s why I love you. You never back down from a fight,”. 

“Exactly,” you smiled up at him, feeling the familiar rush of love that seemed to grow every time you were with him. “Looks like you had your own cozy day-in planned too, didn’t you?” you said, pulling away slightly to glance at the bags. “Taco Bell and Sephora? That’s quite the combo,”.

He grinned, “I know you love those little face masks andddd I also found that pedicure kit you’ve been wanting, so I thought maybe you would enjoy making me look like an alien later tonight and we can do those together. And, well, Taco Bell is my apology for taking so long to make time for this. Guilty pleasure foods are the way to your heart, that I know for a fact,”,

You laughed, shaking your head, “You are perfect, Joe Burrow. You know that? So damn perfect at being the world’s best boyfriend,”.

He glanced at the fort again, a mischievous smile spreading across his face. “Not as perfect as this. A blanket fort? I’m starting to think I’m the luckiest guy alive. I mean, not only do I have the world's greatest blanket fort in front of me right now, but I also have a smokin’ hot wif–...girlfriend, waiting for me every time I come home,”.

“Shit, almost slipped up there. Not yet, Joe. Just a little longer. The wait will be worth it,” he thought to himself. 

You skipped right over his little slip-up and burst into laughter. “Easy there, Burrow. Your girlfriend is still recovering from last night. Give her some time to bounce back, would ya?” you teased, a playful grin spreading across your face. 

Joe’s cheeks turned a deep shade of pink as he dropped his head onto your shoulder, his embarrassment absolutely adorable. “Sorry about that,” he mumbled, his voice muffled against your shirt. “Guess I got a little carried away,”.

You gently pulled him back so you could meet his eyes, the corners of your lips tugging into a smirk. “Don’t you dare apologize for being ridiculously good at making your girlfriend feel like she’s on cloud nine,” you murmured, pressing a soft kiss to his warm cheek as your fingers found their way into his hair.

His laugh bubbled out and his eyes crinkled at the corners in that way that made your heart skip. There he was–your Joey. The tension and heaviness from yesterday seemed to have vanished, replaced by this light, playful energy you adored so much. “Better mood today, huh?” you asked, rubbing the skin underneath his eye.

“Better everything,” he replied, his voice softer now, his blue eyes full of warmth as they locked on yours. “All because of you,”.

You exhaled, letting out a breath you’d been holding in for a long while, “I’m so glad. Last night was…I was worried about you–,” you started to say, but before you could finish, Joe pushed a finger to your lips. 

“No,” he shook his head. “We don’t have to talk about that right now, okay? Don’t stress about it,”. And before you could say something else, he grabbed his hand, pulling you toward the fort. “Now c’mon, let’s see if the fort passes inspection,” he teased, crawling inside first and motioning for you to follow. 

“It better pass the Joey B inspection. I put a lot of effort into this one,” you chuckled, a small shriek following after Joe grabbed your arm and pulled you into him as his back hit the pillows. 

“It’s already a ten out of ten,” he grinned, his arms wrapping around your waist to keep you snug against him. His scent–fresh, a little woodsy, with a hint of something sweet–washed over you, making your heart flutter.

“You’re biased,” you teased, looking up at him with a playful pout. “You’d give anything I make a ten out of ten,”.

“Not true,” he said in mock offense. “Remember that time you tried to make brownies but forgot the sugar? I gave those a solid three,”.

You gasped, swatting his chest lightly. “That was one time! And you still ate half the tray,”.

“Because I love you, and I wasn’t about to let you feel bad about it,” he admitted with a soft chuckle, his fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. His teasing tone turned into something warmer, more serious. “Besides, everything you do has your touch on it. That’s what makes it perfect to me,”.

Your playful grin softened as you took in his words. The way he looked at you, his eyes warm and sincere, made the world outside the blanket fort fade away. “You’re such a sap, Joey,” you whispered, your hand tracing slow circles on his chest.

“Only for you,” he murmured, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Now, tell me–what’s the plan for this top-tier blanket fort? Because I see food, I see Legos, and I see the most beautiful girl in the world. Looks like a perfect date to me? We can do my side of the date–taco bell, face masks, pedicures, with your favorite candles–later tonight,”.

You laughed softly, the sound muffled against his chest as you snuggled closer. “Well, we eat first–because I know someone skipped lunch today–and then we tackle that Lego set. And maybe,” you added, peeking up at him with a mischievous glint in your eyes, “If you’re really good, I’ll let you have the last churro,”.

Joe’s face lit up with mock excitement. “The last churro? You’d really let me have that honor?”.

“Maybe,” you said sheepishly, booping his nose. “As long as you actually help build the Lego set this time and not get distracted and stare at me the whole time,”. 

He laughed, the deep, thundering sound vibrating through you in the best way. “Deal. But I’m keeping the churro safe–no take-backs. And you can’t get mad if I stare at you here and there, you’re like crazy hot and I need to appreciate that you’re mine allll the time,” he smiled, the down-badness in his voice the same type of down-badness that used to be in his voice back in college. Under all that hard-shelled exterior, Joe was still the same as he was back at LSU. He may not let that side come out easily in front of others…or at all…but it always came out around you. 

“You’re really trying to butter me up for the churro, aren’t you?” you teased, raising an eyebrow as you sat up, the playful suspicion in your voice clear.

Joe followed, sitting up behind you with that mischievous glimmer in his eye that always meant trouble. “Mmm,” he hummed nonchalantly, shifting ever so slightly. His arms moved as if he were about to pull you into a hug, but you quickly noticed something was off.

When his hand didn’t quite make it around your waist, you glanced over your shoulder to catch him red-handed–or rather, churro-handed. His fingers were sneaking their way into the bag of Mexican food, inching closer to the special dessert.

“Oh, you sneaky little–,” you started, turning around to confront him. But before you could finish, Joe tilted his head, catching your lips with his in a kiss that was equal parts distraction and charm. The unexpected move left you momentarily speechless, and in that tiny window of opportunity, he managed to carefully extract a churro from the bag. When he finally pulled back, his grin was nothing short of triumphant.

“Oops,” he giggled against your lips, holding up the churro like a prize. His eyes sparkled with mischief, his laughter contagious as you tried–and failed–to keep a straight face.

“Joey!” you groaned, swatting at his shoulder as he leaned back, already taking a bite of the churro with a smug look on his face.

“What?” he said, shrugging dramatically as if he were completely innocent. “I thought sharing is caring, babe,”.

“Oh, you are so lucky I love you,” you muttered, shaking your head as you reached for the other churro in the bag.

—

The two of you spent the rest of the afternoon tangled in each other and the cozy chaos of your little fort. Between bites of tacos and teasing arguments over Lego instructions, Joe’s laughter echoed through the space, filling it with a kind of warmth that you knew only he could bring. He was laughing, genuinely smiling, and having fun for the first time in a long time. It felt like whatever was weighing oh him last night was...gone. And when the sun began to set, casting a golden glow through the makeshift walls, he pulled you closer, his lips brushing against your temple as he whispered, “Thank you for this,”.

“For what?” you asked, your voice soft.

“For reminding me that no matter how crazy the world gets, I’ll always have a place where everything feels right,” he said, fiddling absently with the promise ring he’d given you a few years ago. “And that place is wherever you are,”. 

“...Joe,” you mumbled, your eyes softening as you looked up at him. 

“You know,” he started softly, “Yesterday was tough, but…it wasn’t on me. And I’ve learned I can’t hold onto that. Can’t let it eat me up like I used to. I did my best out on that field, I gave it my all like I always do. I made mistakes, the team made mistakes, but we all make mistakes. I can’t keep beating myself up over things I can’t control,” he exhaled, his thumb running over the diamond ring. “But that’s not what I want to talk about,”.

You tilted your head at him, puzzled because you thought he was going to talk to you about what was going on in his head. “What do you mean?”.

Joe’s eyes met yours, his blue eyes staring deeply into your soul almost. “I mean you. You never talk about how you’re feeling. You’re always so worried about me, about making sure I’m okay. But what about you? Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours? I know you’re hurting, Y/N. I know you cried before I got home last night. I know how much those comments hurt you. I know how much you’ve been trying to balance since I got hurt. I know how hard this is for you. And I know you’re not letting me see it because you think you’re protecting me,”.

The sincerity in his voice caught you off guard, and for a moment, you just blinked at him, your lips parting slightly. His hand tightened around yours, grounding you.

He saw. 

He always saw right through you. He always saw how you’d try to keep yourself from hurting him. He always saw how much you’d put him first over yourself. He always saw how much you wanted to protect him. 

To be loved is to be seen, and Joe always saw you. 

“Talk to me, Y/N. You are always there when I need you…let me be there for you?” he nodded, his hand rubbing circles along your back to calm you down. He was going to get you to open up to him, even if it took a little push or a shove. 

“I…,” you swallowed hard, feeling a lump form in your throat and tears starting to form in your eyes as the emotional dam felt like it was about to burst. All the feelings you were trying to suppress were coming to the surface, and all it took was for Joe to tell you that he could see it; your restraint, your need to protect him, your real feelings. “I don’t know. It’s…hard sometimes. Watching e- everything you go through. Seeing people tear you down or attack me…because of who you are. It’s like no matter what I do, it’s not enough. I can’t protect you from any of it,” you confessed, your voice trembling as you remembered everything those Chiefs fans said to you yesterday. “I get scared, you know? Seeing you shut down like that because of things that aren’t even your fault. I get scared when you start to d- doubt yourself. And I get scared when people say those awful things about you…about m- me…about us. You’ve worked so hard to come back from that wrist injury, that whole process was so hard on you physically and mentally. I just hate seeing people downplay what you went through. They all just want so much more from you, and I hate seeing you think that what you’re doing isn’t enough as is,”. 

Joe’s expression softened, and he pulled you closer, his other hand reaching up to brush a stray tear from your cheek as it slipped free.“You’re not supposed to protect me,” he murmured. “That’s not your job. Just being here, being you…that’s everything I need. You’re the only good thing in my life that feels real, and I’d be lost without you. All the voices that implore ‘You should be doing more, Joe’, but to you I can admit, that I’m just too soft for all of it. I can always tell you how tiring it gets, I can always vent to you about how hard things get. That’s more than enough. You’re the only person who knows me…the real me, which is why you’re the only one I can confide in. You’re always there when I need you, to catch me when I fall. You make me feel safe, lovey. By just being you, being here with me, listening to whatever I have to say, letting me cry on your shoulder. You don’t need to do anything extra to protect me, ever. There’s a reason why I find myself running home to your sweet nothings. Outside, they're always pushing and shoving, but you're in the kitchen humming. All you’ve ever wanted from me is sweet nothing,” he said.

“That’s why I love you and I love the peace and quiet you bring me. You never want anything extra from me…never need me to do more than I already do. But when you start bottling up your feelings, bottling up your emotions…that peace and quiet starts to fade. You know why? Because you aren’t happy. Because you’re hurting, and that kills me more than anything else,”. 

You felt your heartache from his words, a bittersweet mixture of comfort and longing setting over you. The way he opened up made it impossible not to let your own feelings spill out. You glanced down at your hands as you spoke, “This entire world,” you began softly, your voice trembling slightly, “It’s so chaotic. It’s...it’s scary. Those good moments, they’re brief. They last for a heartbeat, and then before you know it, something bad happens, and it feels like everything’s falling apart,” you said, referring to the wrist injury that came out of nowhere last season.

You took a shaky breath, meeting his gaze. His eyes were soft, filled with a tenderness that urged you to keep going. “But you? Us? Our relationship? That’s the one constant. The one thing that feels solid, unshakable. It’s like.. no matter how bad things get, no matter how lost I feel, I always have this place to hide. This place to seek shelter in the middle of the storm. And that place–it’s always with you. But ever since last November…I’ve had this nagging thought in the back of my head that maybe…the shelter is too good to be true. I’m scared that I’ll lose you…lose you to this world of football and unpredictable moments. I’m scared you’ll get too caught up in proving yourself…in being the best…too caught up in your head, and you’ll just–,”.

“No,” he quickly stopped you before those words fell from your mouth. “Don’t…don’t say that,” he said, his voice shaky as you saw his eyes water. 

Another tear slipped from your eye as you kept going, “Even when I’m dreaming, I can feel you leaving. And I know I shouldn’t feel that way, especially because you’ve never given me a reason to doubt us…but I’m scared, Joe. I’m scared that I’m too much for you, that I’m pushing you too much and you’ll just…leave. I’m scared that what everyone said about me was right? I haven’t done enough to protect you, and I said I always would…but I didn’t,”. A sob escaped your lips and before you knew it, the tears were free-flowing down your cheeks, “I can’t,” you cried. 

Joe felt his heart shatter at your confession.

You felt like he was going to leave? 

Never in a million years would he ever think about leaving you…leaving his love…leaving his peace. Never in a million years would he ever even think about living his life without you in it. 

“Baby,” he said with urgency, his hands moving up to your face, wiping the tears away. “Baby, look at me,”.

“I’m sorry, Joe. I don’t know why I feel like this…I don’t know why I can’t stop thinking that you’d be better off without me. I don’t know why I’m letting all of it get to me. I’m supposed to be better than that,”,

“Y/N.” he said, his voice loud enough to silence you. “Stop.”.

His words cracked something open inside you, and the tears came slowly now, silent but steady. Joe didn’t flinch, didn’t rush you. Instead, he slipped the promise ring from your right hand and slid it onto your ring finger, the gesture deliberate and filled with unspoken meaning.

“See this?” he said, holding up your hand so the ring caught the light. “This…it’s my promise to you. That no matter how loud the world gets, no matter how much they push and shove, this…us...it’s our quiet. It’s our peace. You are my peace and I am never leaving you. No matter how hard it gets…no matter how much I keep losing in the NFL. I am never leaving you. No matter how many injuries I have or how many fucking fans want to talk shit on me, I am never leaving you. 

You sniffled, your hand trembling slightly in his. “Joe, I–”,

“Shh,” he whispered, his thumb now tracing the veins on the back of your left hand. The sensation was soothing, grounding you in a way only he could. “You need to know that I am sorry. I am so sorry that I haven’t seen how much you’ve been struggling since my injury. I am so sorry that I always get in a fucking shitty ass mood whenever shit doesn’t go my way. I am so sorry I’m always crying to you about my problems. That’s not how a relationship works. That’s not how we work. We always talk to each other and lean on each other for comfort and security. I’m so sorry that I’ve made you feel like you couldn’t do that. I’ve been trying to protect you by pushing you away, not knowing that it only hurt you more every time. I never wanted you to feel like I was pushing you away for good. I thought protecting you from me, from my doubts, and from all of the bullshit that’s been surrounding me lately would keep you safe. But I was so wrong. I need to keep you here with me, no matter how tough it gets because you’re the only one that can make it better. Winning won’t make anything better. My wrist being 100% won’t make anything better. The fans shutting up won’t make anything better. You? You will.”. 

“I’m not going to leave you, Y/N. I made that clear on our first date back at LSU. Remember? I promised you to love you till I physically couldn’t. And I don’t ever plan on going back on that promise. Don’t ever feel like you’re a burden to me, that you’re pushing me too much, okay? Because without you I wouldn’t be able to do any of this. I wouldn’t be able to do this without you telling me how proud you are of me, without you being there for me after every loss with your arms open, ready to listen to whatever I have to say. I wouldn’t be able to do this without your constant motivation, reassurance, and unwavering support. It’s okay to crumble, to feel upset, and be sad. You are human, baby. It’s okay to worry and feel scared. But I’m here. I’m always here for you and I want you to know you can always tell me these things. I want you to know that I need you with me. I needed you then, I need you now, and I need you forever,”. 

Your breath hitched as Joe’s words washed over you, their weight settling deep in your chest. It was like the dam had burst, finally releasing all the emotions you had been bottling up for so long. You stared at him through tear-filled eyes, his face so close to yours, so calm and full of love. The way he looked at you–like you were the only thing in the world that mattered–made your heartache in the best way.

“I…I don’t deserve you,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I don’t know what I did to deserve someone like you, Joe,”.

“Stop that,” he said gently, cupping your face in his hands. His thumbs brushed away the tears that continued to fall, his touch soft and deliberate. “You deserve the world, Y/N. And if I could, I’d give it to you. But right now, all I can give you is me. All of me,”.

A sob escaped your lips as you leaned into his touch, your hands gripping his wrists as if letting go would shatter the moment. “You already give me everything,” you said, your voice cracking. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Joe. I’m scared of even thinking about it,”.

“You don’t have to,” he murmured, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “Because I’m not going anywhere. Not now, not ever. You are so much more than what those people think. You’re everything to me, I can’t lose you to any of this. If I don’t have someone to share this all with, then what even is the point? If I don’t have you, why am I even trying? I promise you that you’re doing just enough for me. I promise I’m not going anywhere, you’re not going anywhere, and I promise that you and I will always get through this together,”.

The promise in his voice broke through the last of your defenses. You collapsed against him, your arms wrapping around his neck as you buried your face in his chest. His arms came around you instantly, holding you tightly, as if shielding you from the weight of the world. He pressed his lips to the top of your head, murmuring softly, “It’s okay, baby. Let it out. I’ve got you,”.

And you did. You let it all out–the fear, the insecurity, the pressure you’d been carrying on your shoulders for far too long. You cried into his chest, and he held you through it all, his hand rubbing slow, soothing circles on your back. His other hand stayed on your left hand, his thumb tracing the veins there in that familiar, grounding gesture that had always calmed you.

When your sobs finally quieted, and your breathing began to steady, Joe pulled back just enough to look at you. His eyes searched yours, his expression full of concern and love. “Better?” he asked softly.

You nodded, sniffling as you wiped at your cheeks. “A little. Thanks to you.”

He smiled, that boyish grin that never failed to make your heart flutter. “Good. Because I’m not done yet,”.

“What do you mean?” you asked, a small laugh escaping despite the heaviness of the moment.

Joe tilted his head playfully, his fingers still holding your left hand. He glanced down at your promise ring, now on your ring finger, and gave it a small twist. “This right here,” he said, his voice low but firm, “Is just the beginning. You’re not just my girlfriend, Y/N. You’re my partner. My future. And one day, I’m going to replace this ring with a different one. One that means forever,”. 

Your breath caught, your heart skipping a beat at his words. “Joe…,”.

He leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a kiss so tender it brought fresh tears to your eyes. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his voice barely above a whisper. “I love you, Y/N. More than anything. And I’m never letting you go. I am going to be right by your side through everything. We were made to do this together, and I realized that the first night you let me make you mine. It’s you and me forevermore,”. 

The weight in your chest lifted, replaced by an overwhelming sense of love and safety. You smiled through your tears, your hands moving to cradle his face. “I love you too, Joey. Always,”.

Letting your feelings out to Joe, finally saying everything you had been holding onto for the past year, was more liberating and comforting than you ever could have imagined. It was better than any cozy day spent under a blanket or any attempt to distract yourself from the chaos inside. Joe had been right all along–your relationship was built on leaning on each other, on sharing everything, the good and the bad. He had been doing that with you from the start, and now it was your turn to do the same.

And now that you had, you felt...lighter. 

You felt better because Joe had a way of making all those nagging doubts vanish. With his words, his touch, and his unwavering love, he silenced every awful thought that had taken root in your mind. He reminded you of who you were, of what you meant to him, and suddenly the world didn’t feel so overwhelming. Instead of being weighed down, you felt grounded, tethered to the one person who could always make everything okay. Joe felt all of his worries wash away too. He only needed to see you happy, see you at peace, for his own peace and quiet to come back.

“I love you, Y/N. Never forget that,” he whispered to you before wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer to him, letting his heartbeat soothe any remaining doubts in your mind. 

For a while, the two of you sat there, cocooned in the stillness, calmness of the moment. The world outside might as well not have existed. Joe’s fingers never stopped their gentle motions, tracing patterns over your hand, his forehead occasionally brushing against yours.

Finally, you broke the silence with a soft laugh, trying to lighten the mood. “Would you still love me if I was a worm?”.

Joe blinked, caught off guard, before his lips curved into a playful smirk. “A worm?” he echoed, his eyebrow rising. “Like…an actual worm? Wiggles and all?”. 

You nodded enthusiastically, biting your lip to keep from giggling. “Yes! Like if I just…poof, turned into a worm right now,”.

He pretended to consider this very serious question, his lips pursed and his gaze narrowing as though deep in thought. “Hmm…worms don’t have arms, so you couldn’t hug me like this,” he said, tightening his hold on you in an exaggerated squeeze. “But yeah, I’d love you. Because then I could finally keep you safe from everything and take care of you without you fighting me on it,”.

You burst out laughing, your head falling back against his chest as his words sank in. “Joe, that’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,”.  

“And you’re the most ridiculous person I’ve ever loved,” he teased, brushing his nose against yours affectionately. “It’s a perfect match,”.  

Your laughter softened into a warm, lingering smile as you gazed at him. His eyes sparkled with mischief, but there was something deeper there–tenderness, devotion, and a reminder of the unshakable love that made your chest ache in the best way.  

As the playfulness settled, he reached up to cradle your face, his thumb gently brushing over your cheek. “Everything might feel wrong in our life, but with each other? It’s alright,” he said softly, his voice filled with quiet sincerity.  "We just need us. That's all,".

Your heart swelled, a warmth spreading through you that no blanket could replicate. You leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, and he hummed contentedly, pulling you closer.  “See?” he murmured against your lips. “You’re stuck with me–worm or not,”.  

And he meant that. He meant all of it. The two of you were meant to do this together, the connection between you was strong enough to outlast any storm that came your way. Joe knew you were his forever the night of his first date, and ever since then, he'd only made that clearer to you. It was just you and him, for the rest of your lives.

The bond you shared was unshakable, rooted in something far deeper than words could ever express. You both knew that no matter what life threw your way, as long as you were tethered to one another, the flame between you would never waver. It wasn’t just love—it was a connection so profound that it felt eternal, like the universe had stitched your hearts together with threads of stardust.

You didn’t need a ceremony to tell you what was already so obvious in the way he held you, spoke to you, and loved you. But the thought of that moment—when he would ask, when you would say yes—was enough to send a soft thrill through you.

Little did you know, that directly above you, inside the confines of his safe, sat the ring you had been dreaming of, waiting patiently for the right moment to appear on your finger. He had it since January, but he knew this was something so extraordinary that it could never be rushed.

And little did you know, that the moment you were dreaming of was coming sooner rather than later.

Until then, you found peace in the quiet certainty that your flame, your love, would burn brightly forever as long as you were together.

–The End–

[docdudo]

Hybrid 141 As Parents - Foster Human Child!Reader (Part 11)

Their background is clear to you—always has been since your social worker told you about them in her car on the way here.

They’re military men. Most of their long lives have been spent in the field. She even mentioned that their first children grew up on base when they were little.

Which sounded cool, you thought. It was so different from the office jobs other foster parents had. A bonus, even—it made you feel safe in their house.

They were bigger than most. If not by height, then by width. They were large. Buff. Even the damn harpy, who was supposed to be lean, had broad shoulders and lots of muscles.

So you felt safe. That was a big bonus. Better than that weird suburban house you stayed in, where the mother often avoided the creepy neighbor who looked predatory. You remember his strange glances and how nervous the mother was when he came knocking one night while her husband was away.

How nervous you were as you watched their interaction a few feet away.

So, you’ve always had a big thing about safety, thanks to the weird places you have stayed.

And they felt so safe. It was comforting, really. After the initial phase of settling into a foster home—when you flinched away from everyone until you got to know them better—you started to relax.

(Unless they were the angry type. Or worse, the type to lay their hands on you.)

So, when Price sat you on his lap, checking your temperature again and combing your hair with his hand and sharp claws, you felt... calm. Eh, not totally, you admit. You still tensed a little when his hand came near your face and stayed quiet because of your shyness.

But it was progress, and you really, really wanted to feel at peace with them.

When night came, after they gave you more medicine, warm tea, and another serving of John's bean and bacon soup, they decided to put you to bed early.

Which... was fine. You were actually very tired. Sickness does that to you.

Price carried you, lifting you easily from the dining room chair with the booster seat they’d gotten from somewhere. He placed you down carefully in the big nest full of heavy blankets and pillows, the others following behind at their own pace.

Being there gave you a chance to watch more of their routine.

Ghost was the last to enter. You could hear him rattling things downstairs and turning off lights as he came. His low voice confirmed that all windows and doors were locked.

Gaz was already in the room, sitting at the nest’s edge as he combed through his wing with a special tool, a weird looking comb thing. Johnny worked on the other wing with a concentration you didn’t know he could manage. Both of them were close to you, their legs nearly bumping your small form in the giant nest.

Price moved calmly around the room, putting things away and finishing his hygiene routine in the attached bathroom.

"Feeling better?" Gaz cooed softly, his leg—talons, talons, such sharp talons—bumping near you to get your attention.

"Y-yeah, better..." you answered quietly, nodding for emphasis.

"Good." He crooned, satisfied, especially when Soap purred right after.

(Is it really a purr if he’s a werewolf?)

"Good pup, such a good pup. Really brave, huh? Dinae complain even once. So strong..." Soap murmured, leaning over Gaz, who relaxed back against him.

"It's just a small fever..." you mumbled, frowning a bit at his exaggeration. You were shy. "It’s nothing..."

"Not nothin’, kid." Simon grumbled, finally climbing into the nest after discarding his mask and gloves. He lay beside you, checking your forehead again. "Sick is sick. A flu is a flu. Still makes you feel like shit."

"Simon..." Price scolded as he emerged from the bathroom, closing the door behind him. "Didn’t hear the hatchling say one bad word ’til now. Don’t influence her."

"To be fair, we barely heard her speak at all until now." Kyle retorted sassily, smiling at Price before glancing down at you. "Small, quiet fledgling."

"Nah, she’ll warm up to us!" Johnny declared confidently, shaking his head. "Right, pup? Wanna play with Papa tomorrow? We can play anything ya want!"

"Tone it down, mutt. It’s snowin’ outside," Ghost grumbled, already wrapping your small body in one of the blankets.

"We can play inside. We’ve got the space," Soap said smugly, finishing Kyle’s wing before slipping into the nest on your other side. "We can play, pup. Promise I’ll be gentle!"

You tensed a little, unsure. Your expression showed your doubt with your little frown. After a few seconds of silence, you managed to murmur.

"....o-okay... I guess..."

"See? Who said peer pressure doesn’t work?" Ghost deadpanned, making Price snort with laughter, faint wisps of smoke escaping his nose.

"You don't have to if you don't want to, hatchling. Soap will understand." Price says with a quiet laugh, approaching the nest as he adjusts some kind of shoulder weight attached over his sleeping shirt where his missing wing used to be.

You stare at him for a moment, frowning slightly in confusion.

"...Soap...?"

Your question seems to stun them for a moment before they all start laughing softly, like it’s some kind of inside joke.

"Tha’ would be me, lassie." Johnny replies with a big smile, flashing all his sharp teeth as he leans closer. "Just a codename. Military, aye?"

"Nickname...?" you mumble, still confused.

"Close, hun. Codename." Gaz explains with a gentle laugh, sliding into the nest now, his wings resting against Soap and Price’s backs.

"It’s like a nickname, but it’s used for secrecy. So bad people don’t know our real names." Ghost adds calmly, his heavy hand giving your back a slight pat.

That makes you scrunch your nose slightly.

"Why Soap...?"

Once again, the others laugh at your question, except Johnny, who just sighs quietly, though his smile remains.

"Doesn’t matter why." The werewolf says with a shrug, still grinning as he gestures at Simon. "This bastard is called ‘Ghost’ in the field, Kyle is ‘Gaz,’ and John just uses his last name, ‘Price.’"

You nod quietly, blinking as you process the information. It’s kinda weird, but it makes sense for their lifestyle. Military men for most of their lives, huh? That actually makes you wonder...

"...Are your kids also military...?" you ask softly, hugging your knees over the thick blanket.

"Thank fucking god, no," Price answers quickly, sounding both relieved and horrified at the thought.

"I thought we weren’t doing bad words?" Ghost asks slowly, his tone sarcastic as he sends Price a bored look.

"Oh, shut it." Price growls softly back, leaning closer to him with a sharp smile.

"But no, none of them are in the military." Kyle chimes in, smiling slightly. "Doesn’t mean they didn’t think about following our footsteps at some point, though."

"Wee lads and lassies always thought the military was cool, wanted to be like their papas." Soap says dreamily, though his smile falters slightly to a more nervous smile. "We would never let them, though."

"Why?" you ask innocently, tilting your head in confusion. "You didn’t like the military?"

"No, no, not that! Ah love the military, wee lass!" Soap defends quickly, waving his hands around. "Can’t imagine doin’ anything else with my life!"

"But no parent wants their kids in such a dangerous job," Price interjects, shaking his head as he mutters under his breath. "Honestly, if I had my way, they’d still be here in the nest with me."

"Ignore ’im. Dragon instincts get the best of ’im sometimes." Ghost mutters, shaking his head before gently nudging you down into the nest. "Come on, kid. We can talk tomorrow. It’s sleep time."

You’re still curious, but you nod, laying back against the nest. Johnny immediately curls around you, his giant body wrapping you up entirely. You even feel his tail loop around your legs. You tense for a moment at the closeness, but soon relax, rolling slightly to burrow your face into the blanket. His much larger body shields you completely.

"Night, kid." Ghost grunts as he settles, his hand resting on top of your wrapped form.

"Sweet dreams, hun." Gaz murmurs softly.

"Sleep well." Price adds last, leaning down slightly as the others settle into their spots in the nest. "Call us if you need anything, alright?"

"Gonna be monitorin’ her. It’s fine..." Johnny mumbles, still draped protectively over you. "Good night, lassie."

You fall asleep as the lights turn off and the others cuddle into the nest. Despite the heavy snowstorm outside, you feel incredibly warm.

Safe.

[fledgedragonfox]

Secondary Colors & Tertiary Souls

Two lovers have reincarnated throughout history, destined to find each other and fall in love all over again. There’s also this third guy that reincarnates alongside them… we don’t really know what he does.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I've honestly lost track of how many times I've been here. Watching from the outside as they found each other again. Sometimes they remember, sometimes they don't. But they always find each other. And sometimes they find me. But never in a way that matters. I came close once. Violet came back as a beautiful young woman and I happened to be a strapping young man from a noble family.

This was way back when dragons were still trouncing around the countryside. I was her betrothed, and I was so happy. But then she found Forest, as one of the most gorgeous dragons I'd ever seen. To be fair every other gorgeous dragon was either Violet or Forest in another life, but still. He was breathtaking. He stole her away, and they lived happily ever after. 

I don't like to think about how bad things were after they left. I'd like to think that if I came that close to them again I'd handle things better. No elderberry wine and cliff edges for me, thank you very much.

But, well…

It's hard to keep going like this.

There’s a legend about us you know? Two souls, born into the world over and over again. They always find each other. And every time, their love burns through the barriers of forgotten times, and they embrace. Every time, they come back and without fail, a third appears. No one quite knows why, but the third soul is always present. Either in passing, or as a foe, or even a friend. Some say that when the three meet, you can sense it happen. But always it is the lovers, and their shadow. 

They were an orcish warrior and an adorable scholar. I was a merchant passing through their village.

They were a pair of rebellious halflings. I was an elf who barely had a chance to speak to them before the war.

They were a lake spirit and a knight. While I was an ogre he'd been tricked into slaying.

They were a priest and a fair maiden. I was a dangerous lich, despite only using my powers to heal.

They were a bookseller and a musclehead. I was just a regular at the coffee shop they frequented. That time we became pretty good friends. 

They were starcrossed lovers, an astronaut and an alien. And I worked on mission control millions of miles away.

I get to see them come together again and again and again. But I never get a chance. Sometimes we see each other in the interim. The place between life and death. Sometimes they remember me from the previous life, those are the best moments of my existence. We talk, reminisce, apologize, and promise to remember next time. But they rarely ever do. And even if they do, they almost never remember me.

Right now, I'm a bartender. Serving drinks to assholes all night long. Night after night. Last time the higher ups apologized again for the trouble with my memories. They promised that this time things would be different. This time, when I die again, I won't have to come back. My paradise has been waiting for almost a thousand years, and will still be there when I'm ready. I might be ready to just rest, and let them keep up this asinine cycle they have going. 

That’s when I see them. Violet is a tall man wearing a black turtleneck. He looks so kind, like he always does. Forest is a large man, with a thick beard and a wide smile. They are perfect. Just like always. Even when Violet’s sword was cutting through me, or when Forest was soaring away with Violet in his claws. They were smiling at each other, their hands clasped in each others’ as they danced to the pulsing music. They had matching rings on, married once again. 

They glance in my direction and slow in their dance. I fumble, dropping the tumbler in my hands all over the bar. Sticky booze and ice scatter across the surface and soak my apron. I swear quietly, trying desperately to mop up the mess before it could drip onto any customers. I may be set in the afterlife, but here I need this damned job. I jump when paper towels gently move my frantic hands out of the way. My breath catches in my throat. 

They were here. Frantically setting up a paper towel barricade with the help of the security nearby. My hands are shaking. I’m smaller in this life. Lanky, and awkward, and too many stuttered out excuses. I hadn’t really been taking care of myself this time around, if I’m being honest. Forest takes my hands, trying to stop their shaking. My eyes snap to his and I feel it. Oh this one was going to hurt. These ones always did. He remembered me, or at least something about me. I was a homeless man last time. I lashed out in frustration when I saw them walking down the street. They later visited me sometimes after I apologized. They brought me sandwiches sometimes. Then the cycle started again.

“It’s you.” He said. His voice isn’t angry or sad. It’s a soft voice full of awe. I will fully admit that I am beyond confused. We must have been standing here a while because Violet finishes cleaning and looks at us. I expect him to lash out or question his husband, whatever his name is this time. But he doesn’t. He looks at me, and starts to tear up. He remembers too. This is going to really suck. Last time I was so tired and sick. This time I’m a pathetic lanky loser. It’s been a few minutes, both of their hands are clasping mine. I can’t look at them. I keep my gaze to the floor. This will be the last time. I promise myself that, at the end of this one I am staying in the after. 

“Pumpkin.” The name, the name I’ve only ever used sparingly in the after. They said my name. I can feel myself crying as I look at them. Their gazes are full of sorrow, regret, awe, and something that they had only ever had for each other. Forest guides me around the bar, the pair nearly jumping over the counter. The other patrons and bartenders give us strange, knowing, looks. Then they hug me. Well, envelope me more like. They are both bigger than me. They wrap themselves around my soggy boozy body. 

“We’re so so sorry.” Violet mutters into my hair. Forest it patting my front down with paper towels, muttering apologies and explanations that I barely hear. It takes me a few minutes to catch up. But I can still feel it. I feel a shift in myself. Like something slotting into place. 

“You remember…” My voice is a whisper, and I begin to sob when they nod and pull me in between them. They remember. Maybe they’ll want to stay with me in paradise. Maybe this life won’t be quite so bad. They’re running through names I’ve had in the past, some that even I barely recall. When they kiss me, one after the other, it feels like all of the pain is being seared away. 

I’m not a shadow anymore.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

OK! I'm probably gonna make more of these at some point but here we go! A writing prompt for chrimmas!

If you're interested, I have a patreon and unfortunately a gofundme available if you want to support me.

All of the details for the gofundme can be found on the gofundme page, I promise.

Pareon: https://patreon.com/A_M_W_Harris?utm_medium=unknown&utm_source=join_link&utm_campaign=creatorshare_creator&utm_content=copyLink Gofundme: https://gofund.me/d271f0c4

Two lovers have reincarnated throughout history, destined to find each other and fall in love all over again. There’s also this third guy that reincarnates alongside them… we don’t really know what he does.

[shoobysims]

Calliope's Cradle

A late Jeffmas addition.

This cradle comes in 5 wood tones and 15 total swatches (each wood tone comes with the option of patterned, solid color, or off-white bedding).

Calliope's Cradle acts as a crib and supports infants. The ability to apply any upgrades to the cradle has been removed.

Please note that animations which involve adult sims placing their hands on the side of the crib will not line up correct. Additionally, infants who can pull to stand will not hold the side of the cradle correctly (but if an infant can pull to stand they really shouldn't be in a cradle anyways).

The DECO_BASSINET version supports newborns when paired with an invisible crib mod. Don't have an invisible crib mod? I recommend this one.

A special thank you to @surelysims who saw the finished mesh and said can I do the handpainting and I thanked my lucky stars. It's looks 100x better because of her.

download here

[lechrts]

Oscar Piastri where he just can’t (and won’t) stop looking at reader and she’s just like hey so ??? what the hell r u doing

Ever Seen. ✷ Oscar Piastri

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Assistant!Friend!reader

Summary: When he just can’t seem to keep his eyes off you, since you are the prettiest girl he’s ever seen!

Word Count: 2k

Disclaimer/s: just mega fluff tbh. lando cameo too idk.

Vera’s Voice! ohhhh boy i loved this one. first ever request :333 SMIRK. smile. thank u. hope i did it justice baef. mwah. enjoy!!! ^_^

Oscar was staring at you again.

You didn’t notice at first—you were too busy flipping through your clipboard, listing out his schedule for the day in your usual no-nonsense tone.

The paddock was alive with the kind of buzz that only a race weekend could bring, and you thrived in it. But while the engineers rushed past and the fans cheered in the distance, you felt the familiar weight of his gaze, and that now-familiar flutter in your chest stirred again.

“…and after the debrief, you’ve got a window for lunch before the media pen,” You said, keeping your eyes fixed on the notes in front of you. “If you want, I can go and grab you a salmon bowl, and then don’t forget that your Sky Sports interview is at 2:30, and—”

“—qualifying starts at 4,” Oscar cut in, finishing your sentence like he’d memorized it.

“Exactly.” You glanced over your shoulder to find him trailing a step behind you, his race suit half-zipped, his balaclava in his hands.

He was walking slowly, though, like he was in no hurry to actually catch up. His expression? That soft, quiet look that he’d been giving you for weeks now.

You stopped walking.

“Are you actually listening, or are you just pretending again?” You teased, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m listening,” he said, his lips twitching into a faint smile. But he didn’t make any effort to elaborate, and you caught the way his eyes darted away as if he’d been caught. “Ish…” He said with a subtle smile, finally stepping up beside you.

His voice was playful, but the way he glanced at you from under his lashes made your stomach flip.

This wasn’t new. The glances, the lingering smiles, the way he seemed to focus just a little too much on you—it had been building for weeks now. Months, even. And while you didn’t dare acknowledge it aloud, you weren’t blind to what it meant.

You just weren’t ready to deal with it.

Oscar had hired you as his assistant nearly two years ago. He’d claimed, in his usual deadpan way, that no one else could deal with him the way you could.

And while it was true—you knew his quirks better than anyone—you also knew what being his assistant really meant. It meant being with him everywhere.

From grueling race weekends to early-morning gym sessions to late-night strategy calls, you were the constant presence in his life.

It was only natural that you’d grown close. Closer than you’d ever been, even after years of friendship. And now, with every glance, every lingering touch, every moment of unspoken tension, it felt like you were teetering on the edge of something more.

But that wasn’t part of the plan.

Later that day, you found yourself in the driver’s room with him, running through his schedule again while he lounged on the couch.

He was reclined, one leg stretched out lazily while he idly spun a water bottle in his hands. You, meanwhile, sat cross-legged on the floor with your clipboard in front of you, your usual position whenever you needed to focus.

“…And then after the media pen, you’ll have about an hour before dinner with Zak and the team,” you explained, scribbling a quick note.

Oscar hummed in acknowledgment, but you could tell he wasn’t really listening.

You glanced up. “You’re not paying attention again.”

He didn’t respond.

Instead, he was watching you, his gaze soft and steady in a way that made your heart skip a beat.

“Oscar,” you said, your voice quieter this time. “What?”

He blinked, startled, and the faintest blush crept up his neck. “Nothing,” he said quickly, looking away.

“Liar,” you murmured, a teasing smile tugging at your lips.

Before he could respond, the door swung open, and in waltzed Lando, grinning like he owned the place.

“Am I interrupting?” Lando asked, His tone playful as his eyes darted between you and Oscar.

“No,” You said quickly, sitting up straighter.

“Yes,” Oscar said at the same time, earning a sharp glare from you.

Lando’s grin widened. “Knew it,” he said, his tone full of exaggerated delight.

Oscar groaned. “Don’t start.”

“Oh, I’m not starting anything,” Lando defended with a wide smile, his hands raised in mock surrender. “I’m just observing.”

“Lando—”

“You two should really try to be more subtle though,” Lando continued, cutting Oscar off. “The entire paddock’s talking about it.”

You felt your cheeks heat up with a quirked brow, but before you could protest, Oscar stood up, casually shoving Lando toward the door.

“Out.”

“So aggressive,” Lando said, laughing as he stumbled backward. “Alright, I’ll leave you two lovebirds to it.”

“Out,” Oscar repeated, shutting the door firmly behind him.

When he turned back to you, you were staring at him, wide-eyed.

“What?” He asked, his expression unreadable.

“Are people actually talking?”

Oscar hesitated, his jaw tightening slightly before his features softened. “Does it matter if they are?”

His words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning.

And for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond.

Later that evening, after the chaos of qualifying and the non-stop media pen post interviews, you and Oscar found yourselves alone in his driver’s room once again.

You were stood in front of him, going over and planning out his schedule for the next day, while he sat in front of you, unusually quiet.

“…And then after the debrief, I think you should have a free evening before the sponsor event,” You said, your voice trailing off as you glanced at him.

He was staring at you again.

“What?” You asked, a soft laugh escaping your lips.

He didn’t answer right away but he stood up.

Oscar reached out, his hand brushing lightly against yours. The touch was brief, almost hesitant, but it sent a jolt of electricity through you.

“Uhm,” You said quietly, your heart racing. “Something wrong?”

His eyes met yours, and for a moment, the rest of the world seemed to fade away as he took the clipboard out of your other hand and set it aside, looking down at you.

“You know,” He paused, his voice barely above a whisper. “There’s a little wrinkle between your eyes when you talk. It’s the cutest thing.” The words lingered in the air, and you blinked, caught off guard.

“What?”

“This wrinkle,” He said, his lips curling into the softest of smiles. “It shows up when you’re focused. You always get it when you’re explaining something or organizing my life. Like just now.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the way he was looking at you made it impossible to find the words. His gaze was steady and unflinching, a mixture of warmth and vulnerability that you hadn’t seen before—not like this.

“Oscar…” Your voice was soft, your chest tightening.

“Yeah?” His voice was barely audible now, his face inching closer to yours, as if he couldn’t stop himself even if he tried.

You hesitated, trying to ignore the way your pulse was racing. “Are you okay? You’ve been… different lately.”

“Different?” His brow quirked slightly, but his eyes never left yours.

“You’ve been looking at me like…” You trailed off, not sure how to finish the sentence.

“Like what?” He prompted, his voice gentle, but the intensity in his gaze was unrelenting.

“Like this,” You whispered, gesturing faintly to the space between the two of you.

Oscar exhaled slowly, his shoulders relaxing. “That’s because I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you something.”

You froze, your breath catching in your throat. “Tell me what?”

“That I’ve been in love with you for longer than I can even remember,” He said simply, like it was the easiest thing in the world.

Your heart stopped.

The words hung between you, raw and unfiltered, and for the first time, Oscar looked uncertain. “I didn’t mean to spring it on you like this,” He admitted, scratching the back of his neck. “But I just, can’t keep pretending anymore.”

You stared at him, your mind reeling. “You… love me?”

His lips twitched into a nervous smile. “Yeah,” He said quietly, his hands fidgeting at his sides. “I do.”

And just like that, the tension that had been building for months snapped.

Without overthinking, without letting yourself second-guess, you stepped forward and kissed him.

It was soft at first, tentative, like testing the waters. But then his arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer, and the kiss deepened.

The world fell away, leaving nothing but the warmth of his lips and the feeling of being completely and utterly seen.

When you finally broke apart, his forehead rested against yours, and his hands lingered on your waist.

His eyes searched yours, soft and full of wonder.

“Well,” You breathed, a nervous laugh escaping you. “That explains all your staring.”

“Can’t blame me.“ He grinned. “You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. You even manage to make the McLaren kit look breathtaking.” He joked, his grip on your waist tightening as his fingertips traced mindless shapes.

You laughed, not saying anything. Instead, you just pulled him back in, your lips meeting his once more.

likes, comments, & reblogs are all appreciated!!! ^_^ and let me know if you would like to be apart of my permanent tag list!!! <3

extra vera’s voice! this is also an apology for the lando angst I posted last night. Ok? Ok.

tags! @planetpedri @halfwayhearted @wdcbox @freyathehuntress

[fict1onallyobsessed]

Just watched act 1 and I'm actually feral for Sevika. Like omg what?! How is she so hot?! Anyway I've had this idea of sharing a smoke with her. Specially shotgunning. Um. Yeah. Anyway maybe that would turn into something a bit more - NSFW should we say. Definitely biting. You know what I'm talking about lol anyway this isn't a lot to work with I know.. I just saw your post asking for Sevika requests so I figured I'd pop in

Sevika x F!Reader 18+

Her lungs burnt as she inhaled her cigar, watching you fix her arm for the hundredth time this week. Your eyebrows were furrowed in concentration, screwdriver carefully pulling out the broken metal parts in her arm, clinking in the silence.

She could feel your frustration before she even entered your little mechanic shop. People were being more demanding for fixes as Zaun practically relied on prosthetic limbs, and you were rated the best one for the job. Sometimes you felt like a pawn; people didn't even pay that well. You might have to think of increasing the prices...

"You think too much."

You sighed, looking up at your girlfriend who huffed out smoke through her nose. She knew you were busy, and a part of her felt bad last time you stayed late to fix her arm, so she tried really hard to keep it in a manageable state for longer than usual.

Heavy on tried.

"You should learn how to fight." You snapped back playfully, looking back down at the arm for the final few fixes. The arm hissed and popped once, finally being fully functional again. "Even Ran doesn't come in this often. Might have to start charging you."

Sevika scoffed as she watched you stand up to toss your tools onto your very littered desk, your hands coming up to wipe your tired face.

"You're processor is fried. I'll make you a new one soon, but this one should hold up if you can hold off fighting for a few days."

She was listening but all she could focus on is how exhausted your eyes looked. She asked if you were done for the day, if you wanted to go home but you were already backlogged for weeks with new projects and fixes. You politely declined, walking over to her again and taking the cigar from her lips only to put it in your own mouth.

Sevika didn't flinch. It was something you did often, especially on nights where you needed something to keep you awake for a little longer.

Sevika sat on the small couch, looking up at you as you inhaled, smoke escaping your nose before you even got to exhale. She thought for a moment, then grabbed the back on your thighs and pulled you to straddle her.

"'Vika, I need to get-"

"To work. I know." She casually said, taking the cigar from your hands and inhaling deeply herself. Her eyes remained on yours while her hand reached up to grip the back of your neck, pulling you up to her lips.

For a second you thought she was going to kiss you, like she did always in thanks when you fix her up. But instead, she stopped you right before her face, hand now moving to open your mouth with her thumb. Then she exhaled.

You felt dizzy. You had smoked plenty of times, and since meeting Sevika you smoked plenty more. But this was so intoxicating it felt better than any cigarette you've ever tried.

You relaxed on her lap, sinking onto her as you tried to breathe normally. Her mechanic hand held your waist, the other firmly on your jaw to keep it open against her mouth. Just as the smoke began to fade, she pulled you fully against her, lips clashing together in a kiss.

You pulled away only when you felt you couldn't breathe, both of your chests rising and falling as you stared down at Sevika, her pupils blown wide, devouring you.

Work could wait.

You grabbed the cigar back, inhaling so deeply you felt your throat close up momentarily. Still, you leaned down and grabbed her jaw while her hands fell to your hips, gripping tightly to pull you even closer.

You exhaled the smoke as slowly as you could, relishing in the moment for a while before the smoke faded again. You wasted no time in kissing her again, a slight moan escaping your lips and into her mouth. You could taste the smoke in her mouth but it only seemed to rile you up more.

Your hips bucked, unintentionally, and you felt Sevika smirk into the kiss.

"That's all it takes to get you going?" Sevika teased. You replied with a breathy and rushed 'shut up' before going back to her lips, rocking your hips more now she was aware of your intentions. Her grip on you tightened, moving you so that you were straddling one of her thighs.

You really tried to keep your groans in, but the way your clit was grinding against the inside of your jeans. Fuck.

"Fuck. Do it again." You lifted the cigar to her lips, making her inhale it and letting her grab your jaw once more, shot gunning the smoke right into your mouth. You tried to breathe steadily, but her hand made you grind on her thigh more.

"So fucking pretty. Barely touched you and you're gonna cum already?"

You were so fucking close, a whine leaving your lips as you hid your face in the crook of her neck. She could feel the small puffs of air you breathed, trying to maintain some kind of control. Your teeth nipped at her skin, her own composure slowly failing.

You huffed when she accidentally made a sound when you bit into her neck. Your hips stuttered and bucked uncontrollably as you came, lips remaining at her skin until you were stable enough to pull away.

"That's all it takes to get you going?" You teased, mocking her words as angry red marks appeared on her neck. She was flushed and panting, your hips still held by her hands. She smirked, kissing you again before standing up and making you stand on your wobbly legs.

"Home. Now."

[echo-at-the-pond]

thanks for the tag @so-long-londonn 💕💕

"here, have a sandwich"

you like to take care of people. probably because you don't take very good care of yourself, and you know how hard life can be when you don't have someone occasionally looking over your shoulder, offering you food when you forget to eat, telling you to rest when you've overlooked how tired you really are. you want to be that person for other people. you *are* that person for other people, and you're good at it too -- but remember to think of yourself as well when you're making someone else a sandwich. please, keep being you. the world would look a lot better if there were more people like you in it.

so i got bored and made another uquiz. which subtle way of saying "i love you" are you?

[livelaughlovesubs]

Sylus with the prompt: spitting in their mouth and making them beg.

Pls, thank you 🤗 he's a dom for everyone but he's just a lil bratty sub for me 😌

YES YES YES AND I REALLY NEED THIS AFTER HIS MYTH CARD DIDNT COME HOME

Dom!reader x sub!sylus - reader is gender neutral

Warning: teasing, spit, begging, humiliation

Anniversary event

“You are really something, sylus.” You stood in the doorframe to his room, leaning to the side and crossing your arms in front of you, a mocking smile on your face. “I was wondering why you’d invite me to your room, after that little dispute.” The room was dimly lit like always, the furnitures as spotless and elegant as ever, so doubt. But there were rose petals everywhere, really everywhere. On the bed, couch, table and floor. If you took a single step into the room, it’d be like walking on a rose field.

Alongside side the flowery scent caused by the seemingly fresh petals, there were also candles everywhere, lighting up the room. There he sat, on the dark red coloured couch, a glass of crimson wine in his hand, swirling the glass around before taking a small sip. He was going overboard with this ‘bloody red’ aesthetic. “Well sweetie, would you still care to share a drink?” The white haired male said, raising his chin to glance in your direction.

You thought about it for a few seconds, then sat down opposite to him. Then you grabbed the bottle and carefully filled your glass. “So demanding. What have you planned?” A light, calculated chuckle, him with his usual confidence that he’ll get whatever he wants, “you are making me sound like I’m some evil mastermind.” After a quick glance at him, you took a sip as well, it was bitter.

“Sylus, do you really think I’ll forget what happened just because you’ve decorated your room a little?” This time, you were the one laughing, “seriously, you have to try harder than this.” He raised a brow, twirling the glass around in his hand. Then he smirked at you, leaning forward to stabilise himself with his arms, “so? What do you have in mind, sweetie?” You scoffed, “can’t you think of something yourself?”

He stared at you for a few seconds, almost like he was waiting for you to give in, but you wasn’t going to play this game. Instead, you put your focus onto the wine in your hand. “Hah.. feisty kitten.” The male said while fumbling through his white hair. “Don’t call me that.” You snapped, pulling a grimace. He ignored it and stood up from his seat, walking around the coffee table and pinning you to the sofa, “will you accept my apologies now, darling?”

You grabbed his shoulder and pushed down, mumbling, “that’s not how someone asks for forgiveness. Do I really need to teach you?” His eyes had a spark of interest in them, and he followed your guidance until he kneeled on the floor before you. “Try to teach me then.” After a small pause, you leaned forward and yanked his head back, causing him to let out a sharp gasp, he frowned a little at your actions.

“Firstly, you have to show some sincerity and beg.” Even now he hasn’t stopped grinning, and it only fuelled your frustrations. That’s when he said, “alright, I beg for your forgiveness…” he stopped, wondering what nickname he should use “master?” now it sounds like he was mocking you. God bless your patience. “Secondly, don’t act so cocky when you are the one at a disadvantage.” You snarled, grabbing his chin to make him look up at you.

Sylus didn’t resist, he took your challenge head on and nodded, “what else, sweetie?” You sighed and drank the last bits of your drink, putting the glass away, using your thumb to brush against his bottom lip, “thirdly, obey whatever that person has to say.” His breath quickened, and he panted slightly. “Try again.” You ordered, and he stuck his tongue out to lick the tip of your finger, whispering in a soft voice, “please forgive me, y/n.”

It was better than nothing. “Now, open your mouth.” You said, changing your hold to grabbing his chin again. He furrowed his brows at that, and looked at you with a confused expression, “what have you planned?” Instead of answering his question, you reminded him, “rule three.” Though he was a little hesitant, he did as you asked. “Good, stick your tongue out.” You had such a commanding tone, it was fairly foreign to him.

It didn’t take long until he followed that order as well, waiting for what you’ve planned. You leaned over him, looking down, also sticking your tongue out. Saliva trickled from the tips of your tongue. The wait was long, torturous so until it finally dropped down right into his mouth. “You know what to do.” You smiled wickedly, then leaned back against the couch, watching his Adam’s apple move as he swallowed.

Soon, your attention turned to his flushed face. A faint blush covered his cheeks and he struggled a little to keep eye contact with you. The act of swallowing it wasn’t even half as shameful as the awkward, silent wait he had to endure moments before. Him, having to wait for you to degrade, to spit in his mouth. The self sure smirk has been wiped from his face, and so you commented,

“Good job, I’ll forgive you.”