#nostalgia being real here

[mystery-star]

Also wow rewatches after some time are THE BEST.

So much emotion. Feeling like visiting an old friend. It's simply perfect. Making me wonder how I could ever forget about it and love other movies.

Also I am so glad to now have some 'old' fandoms back but one actually like completely gone.

Ngl I feel like I'm in some sort of "tiny thing re-awakens old interest" phase" these months.

And now I feel like rewatching Star Trek because of it. Guess I'll start with the AOS movies and then see what else my brain wants me to indulge in.

[cienie-isengardu]

Why should Kuai Liang even try or want to lead the people who: 1. Ran him and Tomas out of their home 2. Tried to kill him in his wedding 3. Attempted to or killed many of his friends?

Kuai has no footing there in Lin Kuei. They blindly followed Bi-Han to commit crimes in a cowardly ambush and most don't regret what they did after all if the dialogues are any indication. They're as bad as the old timeline Lin Kuei.

While Kuai Liang has to eventually unite both clans, now can't be the time. They've hurt and abused him too much.

Before I answer your very good question, let me preface it by saying this: I do not have a habit to base my judgment on source material I’m not familiar with, especially when the source in question is not even officially released yet. Thus I can’t and at this moment won’t address the Lin Kuei attack on Kuai Liang at his wedding, because - again, officially - it did not happen yet and so far beside spoilers and leaks I DID NOT READ, there is only Kuai Liang’s ending hinting at this upcoming confrontation that hardly looks like cowardly ambush, as both forces face each other while preparing themselves for fight.

Not saying leaks won’t turn out to be true, but I wish to see the storyline and examine source material to get the whole picture before leaping to any conclusion. The fandom is already emotionally explosive as it is and I do not wish to add fuel to it based on things I heard so far from other fans. So you need to forgive me skipping this certain part - once the NRS releases the expansion story mode we can happily come back to the matter.

Now, for the rest of your question, Lin Kuei hurting Kuai Liang is nothing new. His character arc in original and alternative timelines walked this road already. 

His own father, a Lin Kuei warrior himself, kidnapped Kuai Liang and Bi-Han, presumably killing the boys’ mother and younger sister in the process. He and his brother were forced into a clan that trained them into merciless assassins, taking away any chance for normal and safe childhood. After Bi-Han’s death, Kuai Liang was hunted down, his friends turned into soulless machines, or in an alternative timeline he himself became Cyber Sub-Zero against his will. And he still fought tooth and nail to take over this morally corrupt clan - a clan that hurted him emotionally and physically, a clan that exploited him and Bi-Han for literal decades. All to set Lin Kuei on a (more) righteous path. Because despite what happened, or how cold-hearted over the years Kuai Liang became, he cared for Lin Kuei. If not for people itself, then for principles like honor, legacy and duty. His dedication to the clan, the desire to reclaim lost honor and build a better future for his people overcame any other senses. 

Is that a realistic choice to make? In real life most likely not. If Kuai Liang was a real human being, then absolutely his safety and emotional peace of mind should come above any duty or responsibility to the family that on purpose hurted him and his friends. And the safety and people who deeply and sincerely care for him would be the thing I wished for him. But since Kuai Liang is fictional character and as such represents specific archetypes and themes that are part of bigger worldbuilding, I do think Netherrealm Studio’s eventual choice to remove Kuai Liang from his own legacy will simply not work. Not just from the perspective of the story but also from the perspective of MK1 Scorpion’s character arc. 

(And yes, I said I won’t judge characters and events on source material that isn’t even released yet and maybe the expansion story mode will provide rational and sensible reasons behind NRS’ choices. So this is less judging Kuai Liang as character for his (authors’) choice and more explaining my own feelings on the matter.)

I assume the question "Why should Kuai Liang even try or want to lead Lin Kuei" comes from my previously posted statement:

“But if Kuai Liang decided to not replace Bi-Han as Grandmaster and fulfill his duty, then half of the intros will sound very hypocritical of him, I think? Original/alternative Kuai Liang dedicated his life to reforming his clan because he cared for Lin Kuei. Scorpion!Kuai Liang appointing someone else to rule it is, wow, weird as hell. ”

and I stand by it. We all may argue over this or that character’s choice, but there is no doubt that Mortal Kombat has a certain theme assigned to each character. Kuai Liang’s from the start is “Honor” and “Duty”, be it to Earthrealm or father’s teaching.

A trait he shares with original/alternative Kuai Liang and ironically, the strong sense of duty is what he and MK1 Bi-Han have in common too. Their sense of duty is currently contradictory, but both brothers put duty to clan (Bi-Han) or to Earthrealm/tradition (Kuai Liang) over their own blood ties. Now, the thing with Scorpion is that available source material clearly states Kuai Liang:

Always wanted to be Lin Kuei and nothing else

Did not give up on Lin Kuei and is willing to battle with Bi-Han for control over the clan and brings it to its original purpose

This was established in

Scorpion’s Bio before the game even came out

Like his cherished father, Scorpion is dedicated to the Lin Kuei and its defense of Earthrealm. When his father died, Scorpion was bereft. Though he took pride in knowing that his brother, Sub-Zero, would succeed their father as the Lin Kuei's grandmaster. But Sub-Zero's unprecedented moves to cast off the Lin Kuei's traditional duties have frozen Scorpion's enthusiasm. He fears that one day he may have to battle his brother for control of the Lin Kuei's legacy.

hinted/ mentioned in the story mode itself

Kuai Liang: "I knew Bi-Han's frustrations ran deep. But I never thought they could inspire such madness. We can't let his corruption spread."

&

Tomas: "That the Lin Kuei won't aid us is unforgivable. Bi-Han has corrupted them totally." Kuai Liang: "When this crisis ends, we will deal with that one."

repeated in intro dialogues:

Raiden: Did you ever want to be an Earthrealm champion? Scorpion: I have only ever wanted to be Lin Kuei.

or

Geras: Your brother's Lin Kuei are an obstacle to peace. Scorpion: It is *my* duty to deal with them.

or

Scorpion: I fear the Lin Kuei is beyond redemption. Scorpion: Together, we will restore its honor.

or

Scorpion: From the ashes, the Lin Kuei will be reborn. Sub-Zero: Do not presume you can burn it down.

and again stated in Scorpion’s ending:

"No sooner had Titan Shang Tsung been defeated than Bi-Han and his loyalists hunted us down. Outnumbered, we fled to Japan. There we sought refuge from an old family friend. As children, we played together. But Harumi Shirai was a woman now, the head of her clan. Her strength, beauty, and intellect awed me. Also incensed by Bi-Han's betrayal, Harumi agreed to help me forge a new clan. One that would stand against him and defend Earthrealm. Her aid proved invaluable. And as time went on, we grew closer. To honor Harumi and pay respects to my new bride, I named the clan after her, calling it the Shirai Ryu. Now the battle against my brother begins in earnest. The Shirai Ryu won't rest until Bi-Han is defeated and the Lin Kuei's honor restored."

Current version of Kuai Liang is a mix of his original and Hasashi Hanzo’s traits, however despite the differences between MK1 and previous timelines, he never truly gave up on Lin Kuei. Shirai Ruy is a means to both protect Earthrealm and to bring back his original clan to its honorable roots. Even if we may argue Kuai Liang doesn’t care anymore for his rebellious brother or Lin Kuei warriors that hunted him and Tomas, Lin Kuei is still his rightful legacy - abandoning it completely, giving up on centuries old tradition would mean abandoning his cherished father and the man’s teachings. Something Kuai Liang refused to do repeatedly and was catalyst for the conflict between brothers.

So though it is understandable that Kuai Liang (and Tomas) may not wish to live with people that turned against him and brought so much misfortune - something that most sane humans would choose - he is still a Grandmaster’s son and pragmatic leader. The same as Bi-Han, Kuai Liang is a dutiful man that puts duty above personal feelings. Him letting Lin Kuei to be ruled by themselves (and in case of Cyrax, by one that once was Bi-Han’s absolute loyalist as stated by him in story mode) won’t resolve the conflict. The risk to Earthrealm will be still there, and any new conflict between Shirai Ryu and Lin Kuei will be in great part his fault. Because he had a chance to unite two clans into even greater power for Earthrealm’s sake yet choose the “easy way out” by putting someone else in position of power, I presume hoping said person will share his mindset. Not to mention that with Smoke and Harumi at his side, Kuai Liang has a trusted family to either entrust the new clan under their care or be protected by them while he is cleaning up the mess created by his brother. 

For me, Kuai Liang rejecting his duty as rightful heir (that allows him to actively control and redeem Lin Kuei), also rejects his loyalty and duty to late father, Liu Kang and Earthrealm’s safety. But above everything else it put the whole Scorpion’s character arc into question - what was the point of all of this if ultimetaly he did not fulfill his goal of bringing Lin Kuei back to its honorable ways and ensuring personally it stays the way for good? A goal so clearly established in source material? Does that sounds satisfactionally to anyone? To be invested into the crusade against corruption of cherished tradition and father’s teaching only for character to ditch the responsibility like it never mattered in the first place?

Of course, this is just my speculation and personal feelings. Maybe the expansion story will lay out a well-thought-out, logical course of events that will perfectly excuse the change in Scorpion’s character arc or what will be the final deal between Lin Kuei, Shirai Ryu and Liu Kang. I’m holding back my final judgment over it as much as I can, but to be honest, I’m a bit worried at the prospect that Kuai Liang can be removed permanently from his Lin Kuei’s Legacy.

In regard to: “They blindly followed Bi-Han to commit crimes in a cowardly ambush and most don't regret what they did after all if the dialogues are any indication. They're as bad as the old timeline Lin Kuei.” The same as withholding my judgment over the attack during Kuai Liang’s wedding, I have nothing to say at this moment about your statement. I did not read leaks and so far people threw spoilers at me that I have no will to research for confirmation, because again, I would like to experience the story mode as it is in the final form. Maybe the leaks provided enough data, but at this moment I personally did not read anything from Lin Kuei’s perspective that didn’t come from Bi-Han, Tomas or Kuai Liang. Still, I doubt MK1 Lin Kuei are even close to being as bad as the original clan. From what I know so far, Sub-Zero does not sell their skills for the best bidding the way assassin Lin Kuei did, so there is a reason to assume MK1 Bi-Han does not exploit its people the way original Sub-Zero brothers were. 

Though I think we could also argue that what people call “blindly following Sub-Zero” is less about enjoying the criminal activity on their part and more about fulfilling their duty, as Lin Kuei pledged to obey their leader. Which raises an interesting question, if personal morality should stand above one’s duty the way Kuai Liang and Tomas rejected Bi-Han, or it is the other way. I assume the answer will vary from one person and culture to another but the game most likely won’t explore this sadly.

Once the story is out, I’m more than happy to come back to discussion about Lin Kuei’s morality if anyone will be still interested 🙂

[rotisseries]

i was tagged by @light-lanterne to share my top ten albums of all time!

💿 preacher's daughter / ethel cain

💿 razzmatazz / idkhow but they found me

💿 the dreaming / kate bush

💿 the fool in her wedding gown / the crane wives

💿 unreal unearth / hozier

💿 the horror and the wild / the amazing devil

💿 speak now (taylor's version) / taylor swift

💿 bury me at makeout creek / mitski

💿 sawayama / rina sawayama

💿 folie à deux / fall out boy

these are not in a specific order, it was hard enough to pick just ten albums I really like much less actually rank them😭 (although preacher's daughter would probably still be no. 1)

tagging (no pressure obviously) @inutaffy @yearninginblue @hella1975 @verdanthoney @cannibalismyuri @sockfus @yourlocalamoeba and @etchedstars

[sirghostheart]

Can we please stop with this whole " 'X' queer rep is by and for straight people" thing? Haven't we learned nothing of the time when the internet basically forced the author of Simon vs the Homo Sapiens Agenda to come out as bi because just because they didn't like the movie it was based on and thought it was assimilationist and whatnot, the story was written by a cishet woman?

And I don't even like the story! I watched only a third of the movie only to get bored and never read the actual book! Instead, I read critical thinkpieces about it because I'm kinda of a hater I guess.

Anyway, the point is: can we in 2025 please retire this crap? Cause first, just because you're queer doesn't mean you're The Sole Abiter of what is or isn't AuthenticQueerRepTM. Like queer people have different tastes, including whatever you deem shit taste.

Also for the love of god lets stop romanticizing queerbaiting and the Hays Code, ok?

[coffecub]

sometimes I think I'm over my football thing that I had between roughly 2014-2019, but then out of nowhere during the start of the season/during the winter months I get a random burst of interest back?

[sloaneispunk]

“love is a losing game”

frontman! (hwang in-ho) x you

what if frontman had joined the first games with gi-hun? in-ho seeked thrill and decided to become a player in the first games, meeting you. when it was time to play ‘marbles’, he was caught between a dilemma of letting you or his cover go

· · · ──── 𖣠𖣠𖣠 ──── · · ·

‘this game will be played in pairs. please find a partner and shake hands to indicate your pairings’

in-ho was the first to look at you. “y/n, play with me.”

you looked at him stunned, “you want me? what if it’s a game that needs strength?”

“you’re the strongest person i know here, so it’s a yes?” he smiled, waiting for you to shake his hand.

then, you looked to gi-hun who was watching the two of you expectantly as his face dropped. when he saw the worry on your face he shook his head. “no, you two go ahead, i’ll find someone else to play with.”

you gave him a sympathetic smile before turning back at in-ho, taking his hand.

when the timer came to an end, everyone moved towards the next room.

“ah! y’all bastards, play with me please! you need me!” player 212 pleaded as the guards started to approach her. she was the only player that hadn’t found a partner.

her screams and pleads pierced your ears as you looked back at her being dragged away by the guards.

“don’t look.” in-ho said, using his hand to gently turn your head away from the sight.

· · · ──── 𖣠𖣠𖣠 ──── · · ·

you and in-ho followed the guard to your assigned places. it was the porch of a small wooden house, just like yours when you were younger. despite the fake set up, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of nostalgia, taking in your surroundings. small trees encircled the house, its leaves seeming as real as ever.

“i wonder what game they’re going to make us play.” you wondered aloud as you sat on the porch steps.

‘the game is marbles. each player will be given ten marbles, you are to play any game of your choice. the winner will be determined by having all twenty marbles’

your eyes shot to in-ho. “that means…”

“there can only be one winner.” he finished, looking back solemnly.

your distress was rising quickly as the tension between the two of you thickened.

you rushed to the guard, “can we switch partners, please? i can’t play with him!”

“y/n-”

“please.” you sobbed, but the guard remained unfazed.

“hey, it’s okay. we have time, let’s just sit down and talk.” he gave you a smile, taking your hand leading you back to the porch steps.

“in-ho-”

“so what movies do you like?” he cut you off, that stupid smile still bright on his face.

after a brief moment of silence, you answered. “i-i guess i like the marvel movies.”

“yeah? do you have a favourite superhero?”

“black widow.” you let out a suppressed laugh. “as a kid i looked up to her, she was strong.”

“she’s pretty badass, isn’t she?”

you chuckled. “yeah, she is.”

even though it was obvious that in-ho was simply trying to uplift the mood it felt like it was working. if you were going to die here, it might as well be with in-ho.

· · · ──── 𖣠𖣠𖣠 ──── · · ·

time passed and now you only had five minutes left on the clock, anxiety bubbled in your stomach.

“what do you want to do when you get out of here?” you asked in-ho, your head now rested on his shoulder.

he pulled you closer, making sure you were nice and comfortable before he replied. “i guess, pay off my debts and start a new life… maybe a nice apartment with a dog.”

“i like that.” you agreed.

“what about you?” he asked, looking down, placing a kiss on your head as he did so.

“find my family. we’ll all live together again, i’ll buy a big house and we can all be happy.”

“that sounds nice.” he whispered.

“we should play a game.” you sighed, lifting your head. you pulled your legs together, crossing them as you turned to face him, marbles in hand.

“we can play rock paper scissors, winner takes all.” he suggested.

“i really don’t want to play against you.” you said barely above a whisper, looking down.

he smiled, lifting your head up with his finger. “it’ll be okay. on my count okay?”

you nodded hesitantly.

“rock, paper, scissors, shoot.”

you threw scissors.

in-ho threw rock.

but he knew better, quickly changing it to paper right before your eyes.

without a word said, he gave you his ten marbles.

“no! in-ho, you can’t do that!” you shouted, tears flooding to your eyes.

“ah, i knew i should’ve threw rock.” he laughed to himself, acting oblivious.

you got up, kneeling down before him as you grabbed his collar.

“let’s play again, that wasn’t fair!”

“no, the rules were that. i guess i lost.”

you started to weep at his feet. in-ho had been there for you ever since the first game of red light, green light, taking you under his wing.

he would spend the nights keeping watch over you as you slept, pairing with you in every game so he could win for the both of you. he even kept the ridiculous goons away from you when you were being threatened by them, and now you were going to lose the only person you trusted in the game.

he was your best friend and your lover, he couldn’t possibly be stripped away from you just like that.

“y/n, please don’t cry, you’re going to make me cry.” he tried to laugh it off, but he felt his eyes stinging.

he gently scooped you up from the ground, making you face him as he pulled you close, your head on his chest as he shushed, rocking you back and forth.

“you’re okay.” he cooed, “you’re a strong girl, you’re going to make it out, right?”

you shook your head ‘no’.

“yeah, you will. you’ll leave the game with the money, find your family and live a happy life.”

“not without you.” you cried. “i can’t do this without you, in-ho, please. i need you.”

his heart broke into a million pieces. this whole character of his was a facade but it suddenly felt all so real for a moment.

in-ho realised that he too couldn’t live without you, but as frontman, he didn’t have a choice. for now, he could only give you the comfort and company you needed.

“look at me, y/n.” he said softly as you lifted your head once more.

“you’re the most beautiful, compassionate and the toughest girl i’ve ever met. you’ve got what it takes to get out of here… my strong girl is still right inside here.” he pointed to your heart, making you sniffle. “i’ve had the best moments of my life playing these games with you.”

“me too.” you admitted.

he cupped your face, pulling you in for a first and last kiss.

it was full of emotion, relief, joy but also grief. when you pulled away, he nodded, asking you to leave as the timer reached your last ten seconds.

without a choice, you slowly walked out into the corridor, leaving in-ho behind. you couldn’t bear to look at him again, tears still streaming down your face as you were escorted to the exit.

then, there was a loud bang. a gunshot.

‘player 002 eliminated.’

it felt like a part of you had died along with him.

· · · ──── 𖣠𖣠𖣠 ──── · · ·

when he had made sure that you made it through the exit, in-ho glared at the guard.

“dickhead, do you know how close that was to my feet?” he scolded, pushing past him as he walked towards the backdoor.

yes, he felt awful about the whole faking his death thing. but what choice did he have? he knew that he couldn’t let you die on his behalf, he was going to get out of the game either way.

but a part of him was filled with overwhelming sadness, because this meant that meeting you would just be a memory now. there was no way he could face you again.

he sat alone in the dark back in his control room, whiskey in hand as he tried to drown the pain.

· · · ──── 𖣠𖣠𖣠 ──── · · ·

when you met up again with gi-hun, you ran up to hug him but your tears wouldn’t stop flowing. you sobbed the entire time, it didn’t a genius to immediately know what had happened.

he stayed with you the whole night. even when you jerked awake from nightmares, gi-hun made sure to calm you down, ensuring that you got enough rest.

during meal time when you could only stare at your food, he ensured that he kept the food, just in case you ever got hungry in the middle of the night.

little did you know, in-ho kept watch too from behind the screen.

there was a sense of comfort as he watched gi-hun treat you as if you were his very own daughter. he knew that you were in safe hands… for now.

but he knew that sang-woo had turned completely cold-hearted. he was going to be a threat to your safety.

in-ho picked up the walkie talkie on his table, “keep player 455 safe, whatever it takes.”

but how was he going to keep sang-woo away from you?

· · · ──── 𖣠𖣠𖣠 ──── · · ·

a little angst couldn’t hurt anyone.

[requiemforthepoets]

you’re the only friend i need ⟢ OP81

PAIRINGS: oscar piastri x female!reader

SUMMARY: you and oscar were always two peas on a pod. people would often wonder how you, a troublesome kid in brighton, had managed to befriend the calm and reserve boy, oscar piastri. it was truly a wonder.

REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WARNINGS: no use of y/n, angst, heavy feeling fic, implied main character death (mcd), unsaid feelings, mentions of disease (leukemia), mentions of wound and bleeding, googled medical stuff, medical inaccuracies, inaccurate info, reader is a bit of a troublemaker, fast paced-ish, there are unrealistic medical stuff, and minor typographical errors.

WORD COUNT: 12.3k

AUTHOR’S NOTE: this fic is pure angst, there is no happy ending for this one. so if this is not your cup of tea, it’s better you stop reading from here on out. there will be no other part of this fic, bc i’m don’t really know how to pen the rest of the fic (sorry ><), i’m satisfied with the ending of this one. this fic is a love child of me loving childhood nostalgia and coming-of-age genre, and it was also the vibe the i get whenever i hear ‘ribs’ by lorde, bc i SWEAR that song never fails to make me feel stuff +++ the childhood drink, i only had googled it, so if i have any australian reader here, pls feel free to correct me. your comments/reblogs is always appreciated, i hope that you’ll like this one! :)

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You and Oscar Piastri had always been inseparable, practically joined at the hip since the moment your parents introduced you as toddlers. Living right next door to each other in a quiet suburban neighborhood in Brighton, meant that your lives intertwined in a way that felt natural, as if you had always been destined to be a part of one another’s stories. Your parents, close friends long before either of you were born, often joked that it was inevitable that you two would end up being close. Whether it was playdates during the day or sleepovers at night, there was rarely a time when you and Oscar weren’t together.

Sleepovers were always your favorite. Your parents would bring you to Oscar's house with a hastily packed bag, and Nicole and Chris would always welcome you as if you were one of their own. Nicole always had snacks ready—popcorn, biscuits, and sometimes her famous chocolate cake, and how Chris would sometimes tease you both about staying up too late. You and Oscar never really did listen to him, though.

Once the lights were out and the world outside went quiet, you and Oscar would sneak flashlights under the covers, building forts out of blankets and couch cushions. Inside your makeshift castles, you would whisper to each other in the dark, sharing stories that veeted from spine-tingling ghost tales to ridiculous made-up adventures that had you both doubled over with laughter. It was not uncommon for you to laugh so hard your ribs hurt, clutching your sides as Oscar tried, and failed, to stifle his giggles so you would not wake his parents up.

Oscar, even as a kid, was calm and easygoing, which is a perfect counterbalance to your boundless energy and knack for trouble. He was steady, level-headed, and rarely got into trouble, whilst you had a knack for finding mischief, dragging Oscar along for the ride more than not—daring him to climb trees or riding bikes faster than you should’ve, to name a few.

Your parents, on more occasions than they could count, ended up at their wits end because of your antics. From sneaking out past curfew to explore the neighborhood to accidentally setting off store alarms because you thought it would be funny to hide in a display, you always found a way to test the limits of patience. More often than not, you did get caught—whether it was by a passing neighbor, security, or the occasional local police officer, you somehow always managed to land yourself in trouble—but never anything too serious.

It was usually enough to warrant a lecture from your own parents and a lot of head-shaking from Oscar’s. Despite it all, Nicole and Chris never seemed to hold it against you. They’re just kids, Nicole would say, a soft smile on her face. As long as you’re not doing anything dangerous, it’s fine. Chris would usually chime in on the conversation with a mock-serious, just don’t do drugs, alright? his tone was always lighthearted, but you knew they meant it. You would just laugh it off, promising to behave, even though everyone knew that promise would be short-lived.

Your bond with Oscar extended to his entire family. His younger sister—Hattie, Edie, and Mae, all adored you, looking up to you like the cool older sibling they didn’t have. You would play dress-up with them, let them braid your hair, and sometimes even join them for impromptu tea parties. They would giggle uncomfortably at your dramatic impressions of princesses and villains, their laughter echoing through the house. Nicole often remarked how good you were with them, and Chris would joke that you were training to be a babysitter.

Your home as well was equally a second home for Oscar. Your parents trusted him implicitly, often leaving him in charge when they needed someone to keep you grounded. He had this knack for calming you down whenever you’re in one of your hyperactive moods, his steady demeanor a much-needed anchor to your whirlwind of personality. Oscar often got praised by your parents, calling him the voice of reason in your friendship dynamic. But even they couldn’t stay mad for long when Oscar ended up being roped into your schemes. They would shake their heads and sigh, but deep down, they were glad you had someone like Oscar in your life—someone who did not just tolerate your chaos, but embraced it in his own quiet way.

Growing up with Oscar was more than just having a best friend, it was having a partner in every memory worth keeping. From lazy afternoons spent sprawled out on the grass, staring at the clouds, to winter nights curled up on the couch watching movies, every moment with Oscar felt like an adventure.

You had suddenly remembered that one time—it was the kind of night that felt alive, the air cool but not biting, sky’s a velvet canvas scattered with stars. You had been sitting on the edge of your bed, staring aimlessly at the analog clog, when the idea hit you—a reckless, wild idea that made your heart race with excitement. Sneaking out was not new to you, but this time, you wanted company. Specifically, you wanted Oscar.

Convincing him was not really easy. You had climbed through his bedroom window—something you had done far more time than you could count, and found him already half-asleep, wrapped in his favorite blanket with his hair sticking up at odd angles.

“What are you doing?” he mumbled groggily, squinting at you.

“Come on, we’re going out,” you whispered, a grin spreading across your face.

“Out where?” he asked, rubbing his eyes, though you could hear the reluctance in his voice. “It’s already late at night.”

“Just get dressed. Trust me, you’ll love it.” you smiled.

Oscar groaned, muttering something about how this was a terrible idea, but eventually, he swung his legs out of his bed and grabbed a hoodie. You knew that he would come around, he always did. By the time you reached the abandoned public pool, the chain-linked fence loomed in front of you, its weathered surface dotted with a big faded NO TRESPASSING sign.

He stopped in his tracks, crossing his arms. “You dragged me out of bed for this? We’re not getting in.”

“Oh have a little faith, would you,” you said, as you pull out a pair of heavy-duty bolt cutters.

He stared at you, blinking slowly. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope.” you replied, popping the p.

“You stole those, didn’t you?” Oscar questioned.

“Borrowed,” you corrected, grinning mischievously as you hefted the tool.

Oscar sighed, the kind of exasperated sigh he seemed to reserve exclusively for you. “You’re insane.”

“And you love it,” you teased, motioning for him to follow you.

You led him to the back of the pool area, where the bushes grew thick and wild, partially hiding the fence. Kneeling down, you positioned the bolt cutters against the rusted metal links and started to work. The snap of metal breaking was surprisingly loud in the quiet night, but you pressed on, ignoring Oscar’s whispered protest.

“This is such a bad idea,” he muttered, glancing over his shoulder as if expecting someone to appear. “If we get caught—”

“We won’t get caught,” you interrupted, voice calm but firm. “Relax, Osc. I’ve done this before.”

“That’s not exactly comforting,” he said, but voice softened when he saw the concentration on your face. “You’re weirdly good at that,” he admitted after a moment, watching as you expertly cut a hole big enough for the two of you to crawl through.

“Why thank you, my good sir,” you said, brushing the dirt off your hands as you stepped back to admire your work. “Now come on, ladies first.” you teased, to which he just rolled his eyes at you.

Oscar followed you through the gap in the fence, grumbling under his breath but too curious to stop. The pool stretched out in front of you, its surface shimmering faintly under the moonlight. Despite the place being abandoned, the water was crystal clear, a testament to whoever was still maintaining it.

“So this is your idea of fun in the middle of the night?” he asked, tone caught between disbelief and amusement.

“Yep.” you smiled.

Shaking his head, he trailed after you to one of the old sunbeds. You plopped down first, stretching out and tilting your head back to gaze at the stars. After a moment, he sat down beside you, arms resting on his knees. For a while, neither of you spoke. The night was so still that the faint rustle of leaves and the distant hum of crickets felt almost amplified. It was peaceful in a way that made the world beyond the fence feel far away and unimportant.

“You really come here a lot?” Oscar finally asked, breaking the silence.

“Yeah, but somehow, they found where I would sneak in and boarded it off.” you said softly. “It’s kind of my spot. No one bothers me here, and I can think peacefully.”

He glanced over at you, expression unreadable. “It’s nice,” he admitted, voice low.

“Told you,” you said with a small smirk, nudging him with your shoulder.

Oscar chuckled, shaking his head. “I still think you’re insane. But thanks for bringing me here.”

“See? You love it!” you teased again, but this time, your tone was gentle.

He didn’t argue back, just leaned back on his elbows and looked up at the stars. For all his initial protests, you could tell he was enjoying himself.

The quiet stillness of the night surrounded you as you sat on the sunbeds, gazing up at the sky. The stars seemed to shimmer more brightly than usual, scattered across the inky darkness like tiny diamonds. The gentle hum of crickets filled the silence, a soothing backdrop to your thoughts. You turned your head slightly, glancing at Oscar, who was leaning back, arms folded behind his head, and face relaxed but thoughtful.

“So,” you started this time, breaking the silence. “How’s karting going for you?”

Oscar turned his head towards you, brow lifting slightly. “It’s going good,” he said, tone casual, but there was a spark in his eyes as he spoke. “I’ve got another competition coming up soon. You’d know all about it if you actually came to one for once.”

You rolled your eyes, smiling a little. “You know that karting isn’t my thing.”

“Not your thing,” he repeated, almost scoffing, though there was no malice in it. “You’ve been saying that for years. You’ve never even given it a chance.”

“I cheer for you in spirit,” you said, leaning back against the sunbed with a grin. “That counts, right?”

Oscar let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “You’re impossible. But seriously, you should come sometime. It’s not just about the racing—you’d see what it’s all about. Besides, my family would love to have you there.”

“I know,” you said quietly, gaze drifting back to the stars. “But I don’t need to be there to know you’re amazing. I’m always proud of you, you know that.”

He smiled softened at your words, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. Then, as if something had been weighing on him, he spoke again.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you,” he began, voice a little hesitant, “I’m probably moving to the UK soon. There’s more opportunity there for racing. Better teams, better chances to make it in F1.”

The words hung in the air between you, and for a brief moment, you didn’t know to respond to Oscar. You felt a slight pinch in your chest, a dull ache you could not quite place. But as always, you pushed it aside, refusing to let it show.

“Oh, wow,” you said, turning to him with a smile that you hoped didn’t look forced. “So, you’re leaving me, huh?”

Oscar gave you a look—half amused, half exasperated. “I’m not leaving you,” he said firmly. “It’s just something I need to do.”

“Sure, sure,” you teased, poking his arm lightly. “Just don’t forget me when you’re already a big shot in F1, okay? Don’t pretend you don’t know me when I show up at one of your races, like, hey, remember me? The one dragged you into all her bad ideas?”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Like I could ever forget you. You’d probably try and break into the paddock if I didn’t let you in.”

“Exactly,” you said with a grin, though your chest still felt tight.

Oscar tilted his head, looking at you more seriously now. “What about you?” he asked. “What do you want to do? Where do you see yourself in a few years?”

You hesitated, staring back up at the sky as if the stars might have an answer for you. The truth was, you did not know at all. You never had. The thought of planning your life out like that felt daunting, like trying to catch smoke in your hands.

“Honestly, I don’t know,” you admitted finally, voice soft. “As cliché as it sounds, I guess I’ll just…go with the flow. See where life takes me.”

Oscar studied your face for a moment, gaze thoughtful. “That’s not a bad thing, you know,” he said. “Some people tend to spend their whole lives planning and never stop to actually live.”

You turned your head to him, surprised by his words. You know that Oscar was philosophical in some type of way, and it always surprises you, but there was something reassuring in the way he said it.

“Yeah,” you murmured, offering him a smile. “Maybe.”

You reached inside of your jacket and pulled out two juice boxes of sunshine punch. You tossed one to Oscar, who caught it with a raised eyebrow.

“Sunshine punch? Really?” he asked, tone teasing as he turned the box over in his hands.

“I know, I’m the best, aren’t I?” you replied, already poking the straw into yours and taking a sip.

Oscar gave you a small shake of his head but didn’t argue. He was not a fan of the drink, you both knew that early on, but he appreciated the gesture. He poked the straw in, took a small sip, and scrunched his nose lightly. You just laughed quietly to yourself, looking out at the pool.

The water glistened under the moonlight, a perfect reflection of the pale orb in the sky. Silence between you was comfortable, just the two of you simply drinking your juice boxes, watching the faint ripple of water and the shadows cast by the surrounding bushes. But then, a sharp flash of light broke through the calm, your heart jumped as the beam of a flashlight swept across the area. You then froze, juice box in hand, while Oscar turned to look at you, confused.

“Finish your juice box,” you whispered urgently, quickly sipping the last of your drink and tossing the empty juice box into a trash bin.

“What “ Oscar whispered back, voice incredulous. “Why?”

“Just do it!” you urged, voice tight as your eyes scanned the area for a hiding spot.

Lscar grumbled, not really happy that you were hurrying him with his juice box, but he drank it quickly. You were already moving, searching desperately for somewhere you and Oscar could hide, but there was nothing. No bushes dense enough, no shadows deep enough. The pool shimmered ominously in your peripheral vision as the flashlight beam drew closer.

“Hold your breath,” you whispered sharply, grabbing Oscar’s wrist.

“Wait, what—” he started, but you didn’t give Oscar the chance to finish.

You yanked him forward, making him drop the juice box to the ground, and without a second thought, you pushed him into the pool. The water was shockingly cold against your skin as you followed him in, the splash louder than you had hoped. You gestured quickly at Oscar, motioning for him to stay under and not make any movement. His expression was a mixture of disbelief and panic, but he nodded, holding his breath as the two of you sank just beneath the surface.

The water muffled everything—whistle of the night, rustle of leaves, even your own heartbeat pounding in your ears. Above you, the flashlight beam danced across the pool’s surface, light refracting and breaking into shimmering fragments underwater. You held your breath as tightly as you held onto the pool ladder near you, praying you wouldn’t need to come up too soon.

Bright light lingered near the spot where you and Oscar were submerged. You could feel the tension radiating off of Oscar, his body still beside yours. The seconds stretched into what felt like an eternity, every muscle in your body tensed. Finally, the light shifted, moving away from your side of the pool. You waited until the beam disappeared entirely before you tapped Oscar’s arm and motioned upward.

Breaking the surface as quietly as you could, you took in a deep gulp of air. The guard’s faint muttering was distant now, but there was no time to relax. Grabbing Oscar’s wrist again, you pulled him towards the swimming pool ladder, the two of you moving quickly but silently. Once out of the pool, you didn’t even wait to catch your breath.

“Run!” you hissed, tugging him along.

The security had heard the faint splashing as you climbed out and turned, his whistle piercing through the night. “Hey! Stop right there!”

You didn’t look back. Your feet pounded against the concrete as you made a dash for the gap in the fence, snatching up the bolt cutters on the way out. You could not risk leaving it behind, your father would definitely notice that they were missing. Oscar groaned behind you, clearly annoyed but following without hesitation. He was the last one through the gap, and just as you turned to grab his arm and pull him forward, the security’s shouts grew louder.

“Go, go, go!” you urged, practically dragging him by his hand as you sprinted down the street.

The sound of your shoes hitting the pavement echoed in the quiet street of your neighborhood, both your breathing still heavy from running, then noticed the way his right sleeve moved awkwardly against his arm. In the faint glow of a nearby streetlamp, you caught sight of a tear in his hoodie, a dark streak seeping through the fabric. Without thinking, you reached out and gently grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks.

“Wait, Osc, hold on,” you said, pulling his arm closer to inspect it.

Oscar blinked down at you in surprise. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“You’re bleeding,” you murmured, tugging the torn fabric back slightly to reveal a shallow but angry scratch on his skin. The blood was fresh, glinting under the light.

He tilted his head at the sight of it, his expression calm. “Huh? I didn’t even notice.”

“I’m so sorry, Osc!” you blurted out, guilt immediately rising in your chest. “It must’ve happened when we were going through the fence. I didn’t—”

“Hey, stop it,” he interrupted, tone firm but soft. “It’s not a big deal. Seriously.”

You hesitated, still holding his arm as if that would somehow make it better. Oscar shook his head, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Don’t apologize. It’s fine.”

Even though his words were reassuring, the sight of the wound made you feel uneasy. You let go of his arm reluctantly, murmuring a quiet apology one last time. Oscar just rolled his eyes, though there was no annoyance behind it.

“Come on, let’s get home before we freeze.” he smiled.

The two of you made your way to his house, the familiar sight of the front porch of his house coming into view. You slowed your steps as you approached, realizing that sneaking back inside was not going to work. Oscar’s soaked clothes clung to him, dripping water onto the pavement, and your own shoes squelched with each step. There was no hiding this from anyone.

Oscar gave you a pointed look. “You’re ringing the doorbell.”

You sighed but didn’t argue, stepping up to the door and pressing the doorbell. It wasn’t long before you heard soft footsteps from inside. The door creaked open, and Nicole stood there, face shifting from sleepy confusion to startled concern the moment she saw both you and Oscar.

“What on earth…?” she muttered, eyes scanning your drenched forms. She glanced behind you at the perfectly dry pavement and then back at you both, brow furrowing. “It didn’t rain tonight, what happened?”

You opened your mouth to explain, but she quickly ushered you both inside. “Come in, come in. You’re going to catch a cold standing out there like that.”

Once you were in the warmth of the house, she left for a moment and returned with two towels, handing one to you and the other to Oscar. You wrapped the towel around yourself, the fabric soaking up the cold water clinging to your skin.

“I’m so sorry,” you began, clutching the towel tightly. “It wasn’t my intention to get Oscar dragged into this.”

Nicole raised an eyebrow but didn’t interrupt, so you took it as a sign to continue. “We were just hanging out at the public pool, and when the security showed up, we didn’t have anywhere to hide, so we, uh, hid in the pool.”

At that, Nicole’s lips twitched, and then she laughed, a soft, warm sound that immediately eased the tension in your chest. “You two are really something else,” she said, shaking her head.

You blinked at her, surprised by her reaction. “You’re not mad?”

She smiled at you, expression fond. “No, of course I’m not mad. It’s just water. But next time, maybe pick a place where you won’t need to dive into a pool to avoid getting caught, hm?”

You nodded quickly, relieved. “I promise! And please don’t tell my parents.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t,” Nicole smiled again, waving a hand dismissively. “Dry yourselves off, and Oscar, make sure you clean that scratch on your arm before you head to bed.”

Oscar glanced at the tear in his hoodie and nodded. “Yeah, I got it mum.”

Nicole turned to head back upstairs, but she paused, looking over her shoulder. “Oh, and you can stay the night if you want,” she said to you. “It’s so late, and you’re already here.”

You shook your head politely. “Thank you, but I’ll head home.”

She nodded in understanding, giving you both one last look. “Alright then. Oscar, don’t forget to lock the front door and turn off the lights before you head to bed.”

With that, Nicole headed back upstairs, her footsteps soft on the carpeted stairs. You and Oscar were left standing in the entryway, still damp but no longer worried about the consequences.

Oscar glanced at you, lips twitching as if he were about to laugh. “Well, that went better than expected,” he said, running a hand through his wet hair.

“Yeah,” you said, tugging the towel tighter around your shoulders. “Your mum’s the best.”

As a compensation for the troubles you had caused Oscar and waking up his mother, you decided to patch up his wound. You know exactly where their first aid kit was kept, so you wasted no time in retrieving it from the cabinet under the sink. The house was quiet now, save for the faint creaks of the floorboards beneath your wet shoes as you moved. With the kit in hand, you motioned for Oscar to sit at the kitchen counter.

“Come and sit, take off your hoodie. I’ll patch up your wound, it’s the least I can do for causing troubles,” you said softly, gesturing to the torn and bloodstained fabric.

Oscar hesitated for a moment but eventually tugged the hoodie over the head, wincing slightly when his arm brushed against the sleeve. He tossed the hoodie onto the back of a chair and sat down, resting his injured arm on the counter.

You opened the first aid kit and pulled out a bottle of antiseptic, some cotton pads, and a bandage. Setting everything down neatly, you grabbed a damp cloth first to clean the dried blood off of his skin. The scratch was not deep, but it stretched across his arm in a jagged line, red and raw.

“Alright, this might sting a little,” you warned, soaking a cotton pad with antiseptic and dabbing it gently onto the wound.

Oscar sucked in a sharp breath, face scrunching up. “A little?” he muttered through gritted teeth. “Feels like you’re pouring fire on it.”

You couldn’t help but grin slightly at his reaction, though you kept your focus on his arm. Stop being dramatic, it’s not that bad.”

“Says the person not being burned alive right now,” he shot back, though his tone was light.

You rolled your eyes, pressing the cotton pad a little more carefully against the scratch. “If you keep moving, it’s going to take longer. Hold still.”

Oscar sighed and complied, sitting as still as he could while you worked. Once the wound was clean, you grabbed the fresh bandage and carefully wrapped it around his arm, making sure it was snug but not too tight.

“There,” you said, trying off the bandage and stepping back to inspect your handiwork. “All patched up!”

He glanced down at his arm and flexed it slightly, wincing a little. “Thanks, Doc,” he said with a small smile.

You began gathering the used cotton pads and other supplies, discarding them into the trash and returning the first aid kit to its usual spot. As you wiped your hands on the towel draped over your shoulders, Oscar leaned back in his chair, eyeing the fresh bandage.

“Think it’s gonna leave a scar?” he asked casually.

You paused for a moment, glancing at the scratch before shrugging. “Probably. But at least it’ll be a cool story.”

Oscar snorted. “Yeah, breaking into an abandoned pool and almost getting caught by security. Real cool.”

You smirked, folding the towel neatly and setting it aside. “You’ll thank me when you’re older and tell this to your kids. Your crazy aunt gave me this scar.’”

He laughed quietly, shaking his head. “Guess I’ll have to keep you around just for the stories, huh?”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress the small smile on your face. “Anyway, it’s late, or early, I guess. I should head home.”

Oscar stood up as you grabbed your jacket, which was still damp but less soaked than before. “I’ll walk you to the front door,” he offered.

The two of you made your way to the front door, house completely silent except for your footsteps. Oscar unlocked the door and held it open for you, the cool night air rushing in.

“Goodnight,” you said softly, stepping out onto the porch.

“Night,” Oscar replied, lingering in the doorway as you walked down the steps.

The streets were quiet as you made your way home, slipping into your yard and heading straight for the tool shed. You carefully returned the bolt cutter to its original place, making sure everything looked untouched. With that done, you grabbed the ladder that was leaning against the side of the house and quietly climbed up to your bedroom window. Halfway up, you paused and turned your head, glancing across to Oscar’s house, his bedroom window was lit dimly from the inside, and there he was, standing jusy behind the glass. Oscar noticed you looking and mouthed a goodnight, with a smile.

You smiled back and gave him a slight wave in return before turning back to your task. Pulling yourself through the open window, you landed softly on your bedroom floor, finally letting out a breath you had not realized that you were holding.

Years had passed since that night at the pool. Life, as it always did, moved forward, and the close bond you and Oscar had once shared slowly faded into memory. When Oscar left for the UK to pursue his racing career, you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sadness, even as you supported him wholeheartedly. It was a bittersweet goodbye without an actual farewell—you didn’t get to see him before he left. Instead, you relied on Nicole to pass along your best wishes, trusting that she would tell him everything you could not.

Not long after Oscar’s departure, your own life took a drastic turn. Your parents had finally decided to move to Sydney for better work opportunities, a decision that uprooted you from the neighborhood you had ever called home. The weeks leading up to the move were a whirlwind of packing boxes, sorting through childhood memorabilia, and saying goodbyes to the people who had been part of your life for so long��the Piastris were among the hardest to leave behind. Nicole hugged you tightly, and Chris offered his usual kind words, and Oscar’s sisters promised to write, though you all knew how unlikely that was to happen.

When the moving day came, you left quietly. There wasn’t much time for sentimentality—just final glance at the house you grew up in before climbing into the car. Sydney will be a fresh start for your family—as how your parents had put it, but you could not shake the feeling that you were leaving a piece of you behind.

The transition to Sydney was not easy, but somehow, you managed. The city was bigger, busier, and an unfamiliar territory, yet you adapted, throwing yourself into a routine that kept your mind occupied. You rarely thought about the past, though every now and then, something would remind you of Oscar—a fleeting mention of his name in news and online articles, or a memory that surfaced at the most unexpected times.

Nine months after moving to Sydney, something changed yet again. What started as fatigue and unexplained bruises turned into something far more serious. One day, your parents rushed you to the hospital after you fainted at home. Series of tests were run, questions were asked, and finally, a doctor say you down with an expression that left no room for doubt.

Stage two leukemia.

The words hung in the air, heavy and unyielding. You felt entirely detached, as though they were speaking to someone else. Your parents’ reactions were immediate—your mother bursting into tears and your father was gripping your hand tightly. But you were just sitting there, silent and still. You didn’t cry. You didn’t scream. You didn’t ask why this was happening to you. Instead, you felt a strange sense of calmness wash over you, a quiet acceptance that settled over you like a blanket. Maybe it was shock, or maybe it was the realization that no amount of questioning or anger would change what was already done.

Later that night, after the initial flurry of doctors and paperwork, you sat with your parents in the sterile quiet of your hospital room. The fluorescent lights buzzed softly overhead, casting a pale glow on their worried faces. You looked at your parents, both were still trying to process what they had been told, and made a request.

“I don’t want anyone else to know,” you said firmly.

Your father frowned, forehead creasing deeply. “What do you mean? People will want to support you—”

“I mean it, dad,” you interrupted gently but resolutely. “Let’s keep this to ourselves. I don’t want anyone worrying about me.”

Your mother hesitated, voice breaking. “What about Nicole and Chris? They’re family to us—they’d want to know.”

You shook your head, your gaze steady. “No. Please. If they find out, they’ll tell Oscar, and I just don’t want him to worry. He’s got enough on his plate, he doesn’t need to hear about this.”

There was a long pause. Your parents exchanged a glance, the kind of silent conversation that only comes with years of partnership. Finally, your father sighed and nodded.

“Okay,” he said quietly. “If that’s what you want, we’ll respect it.”

“Thank you,” you murmured, leaning back against the pillows.

Just like that, the secret was sealed. Life shifted into a strange new rhythm—hospital visits, treatments, moments of hope, and days of despair. Through it all, you kept your diagnosis close to your chest, unwilling to burden anyone else with the weight of it.

It had been nearly a year of chemotherapy—long days of sitting in cold hospital rooms in silence, hooked up to IVs that dripped chemicals into your veins. Each session left you feeling more drained than the last, your body growing weaker as the fight dragged on. Still, you clung to the silver of hope that the treatments were doing something, anything, to slow down the disease. But hope has a way of unraveling.

Your latest round of tests came back, and the news was worse than you could have imagined. The chemotherapy was not working. Instead of improving, your condition had worsened, and now the doctors were delivering the words you had dreaded since the beginning.

Stage four.

You sat still inside the small consultation room, the sterile white walls closing in around you as the doctor explained your options. Words such as aggressive treatment and clinical trials floated in the air, but you were not really listening to what the doctor was saying. Your parents were, though—you could see the desperation in their faces as they clung to every word, searching for something to hold onto.

Later that night, at home, you lay in bed staring blankly at the ceiling with the weight of the diagnosis pressing down on your chest. You thought about the past years, about how much you had endured and how little had come from it. The endless cycle of nausea, fatigue, and pain had left you feeling like a shadow of yourself. What was the point of continuing if it wasn't even making you better?

The next morning, you asked your parents to sit down with you in the living room. They looked at you with concern, sensing that this conversation was different. You took a deep breath, steadying yourself before speaking.

“I want to stop the chemotherapy,” you said quietly but firmly.

Your mother’s eyes widened, a hand flying to her mouth. “What? No—you can’t mean that, honey. We’re fighting this, remember? You’ve been so strong—”

“I’ve been strong,” you whispered gently, meeting her gaze. “But I’m tired, mum. I’m so fucking tired. This treatment is no longer working on me. We all know damn well that it’s not working.”

Your father’s face was tense, his hands gripping the armrest of his chair. “The doctors said there are other options. Experimental treatments, new drugs—sweetheart, they haven’t given up on you, and neither should you.”

You sighed, trying to find the right words to make them understand. “I know you want me to keep fighting, and I love you for that. But this isn’t living anymore, every single day feels like a battle that I’m losing. I don’t want to spend whatever time I have left feeling like this.”

Tears welled up in your mother’s eyes as she reached for your hand. “There has to be something else that we can do. We can’t just stop.”

“I’m not giving up,” you said softly, squeezing her hand. “I’m just choosing a different path. The doctors mentioned alternatives, things that might help me feel better without the chemo. I want to try those instead, I want to focus on quality of life, not quantity.”

There was a long silence as your parents absorbed your words. Your father looked down at the floor, his jaw clenched, while your mother wiped at her tears. Finally, he spoke, voice low and strained.

“If this is what you want, okay, we’ll support you. But it’s not easy for us to accept.”

“I know,” you whispered, voice breaking. “I know it’s not easy. But this is what feels right for me.”

Your mother nodded through her tears, her grip on your hand tightening. “We’ll talk to the doctors tomorrow. We’ll figure out the alternatives.”

You leaned into your mother’s embrace, feeling a mix of relief and sorrow. It was not an easy decision, but it was yours, and for the first time in a long time, you felt like you could breathe.

You never thought that you would be back to where it all started. The sun was warm on your back as you stood in front of the old house, taking in the neighborhood that had once been so familiar. Everything seemed different now—houses, gardens, and even the way the air smelled, but the tree with the tyre swing still stood proudly in the front yard. The sight of it tugged at your chest, stirring a mix of nostalgia and longing. You remembered how you and Oscar used to spend hours climbing its sturdy branches, swinging so high on the tyre that your parents would often scold you to be careful.

You took a tentative step toward the tree, wondering if the names you and Oscar had carved into the bark were still there. You hadn’t really thought about that in years, but the memory was vivid of how the two of you had sat side by side, each clutching a small pocket knife that you were not supposed to have, giggling as you carefully etched your initials into the wood. Before you could reach the tree, a voice called out your name.

You turned around quickly, heart skipping a beat as you saw her—Nicole. Nicole just stood there, just as warm and welcoming as you remembered. Her face lit up in recognition, and before you could say anything, she crossed the distance between you and pulled you into a tight hug.

“Oh my goodness!” she exclaimed, arms wrapping around you with a familiar kind of affection that nearly brought tears to your eyes. “It’s been so long! Look at you—you’ve grown up so much.”

You smiled nervously as she pulled back, her hands still resting on your shoulders. “Hi, Mrs. P. It’s been a while.”

“Too long, my dear,” she said, voice tinged with both happiness and surprise. “I heard your family was back in town, but I didn’t think I’d run into you so soon! How are you? How are your parents?”

“They’re good,” you replied, voice steady despite the sudden nervousness creeping into your chest. “They’re inside, actually, talking to the realtor.”

Nicole nodded, eyes scanning your face with that same maternal kindness you remembered from your childhood. “And how are you, sweetheart? It’s been ages since I last saw you.”

Your throat tightened for a moment. She did not know. No one ever did, except your parents. You forced a small smile and nodded. “I’m doing okay. Just taking it one day at a time, you know?”

She smiled warmly, completely unaware of the weight behind your words. “That’s good to hear. It’s so nice to see you back, Brighton hasn’t been the same without you.”

You shifted slightly, glancing around the neighborhood before returning your gaze to her. “How’s everyone by the way? The whole family, especially the girls.”

“Oh they’re all doing great,” Nicole said brightly. “The girls are growing up so fast—you wouldn’t even recognize them! Then Oscar…”

At the mention of his name, your heart seemed to skip. You hadn’t thought about him in a very long time, and now, hearing his name felt both comforting and surreal.

“How’s Oscar?” you asked, trying to sound casual despite the flutter in your chest.

Nicole’s face lit up with pride. “Oh, he’s doing wonderfully! You wouldn’t believe it—he’s made it to F1! He was signed with McLaren.”

The words hit you like a burst of sunlight, flooding you with an overwhelming sense of happiness that you could not even describe. Your lips parted in surprise, and you felt your chest swell with pride.

“He did it?” you asked softly, almost in disbelief.

Nicole nodded, smile widening. “He did! It’s been such a journey for him, but he’s finally there. All those years of hard work have paid off.”

You felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes, but you quickly blinked them away, a wide grin spreading across your face. “I always knew he would make it. I never doubted it for a second.”

Nicole chuckled, her hand resting lightly on your arm. “He worked so hard for this, and I know he would love to see you. Oscar’s been so busy, especially with the races, but I’m sure that he’d be thrilled to know you’re back.”

You hesitated for a moment, the thought of seeing him again stirring a mix of emotions you were not quite ready to unpack. “That’s amazing,” you said finally, voice filled with genuine admiration. “I’m so proud of him.”

Nicole smiled knowingly, as if she could see just how much you meant it. “You should tell him that yourself sometime. I know that he’d love to hear it.”

You nodded, though you were not sure if you would.

You and your family are back yet again in Brighton. The day was unusually quiet, the kind of silence that made you feel every sound—rustle of leaves in the breeze, distant hum of cars passing by, faint creak of the porch beneath your weight. You were sitting there, knees pulled to your chest, gazing out at the familiar neighborhood that had shaped so many of your memories. It was strange to think that after today, this house, street, and view would no longer be yours.

Your parents were just inside the house, tying up loose ends with the realtor, discussing the final details of the sale. You had excused yourself, not wanting to be a part of it. The mere thought of walking through the now-empty rooms, stripped off the warmth and life they once held, felt too heavy. So you stayed outside, perched on the porch steps, letting the sights and sounds of Brighton seep into you one last time.

The air carried an unusual faint chill, and you hugged your arms around yourself as you scanned the street. It was still the same in many ways—neatly trimmed lawns, rows of houses with their uniform yet distinct façade. But it also felt different, as if time had moved on without you, leaving you as an observer rather than a participant. As your eyes wandered, something, or rather, someone had caught your attention. You straightened slightly, squinting to make sure that you were not imagining things. Walking down the sidewalk, with an easy familiar stride, was Oscar.

For a moment, you were struck by how much he had changed. He carried himself differently now, more confident, assured, as if the years away had molded him into someone who fully belonged in the world he had always dreamed of. But that was not what held your attention. Beside Oscar, her arm lightly brushing against his, was a girl. She was gorgeous in an effortless way that made it impossible to look away. Her hair shimmered in the sunlight, her laughter rang out softly as she spoke to Oscar, and her smile was the kind that lit up her whole face.

You felt it then—a sharp, unbidden pang in your chest. It was not jealousy, not exactly. It was something deeper, aching. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from them, from the way they walked together, so perfectly in sync, so natural. They looked so good together, like a pair that had been meant to find each other. And you? You just sat there, still and silent, feeling like an intruder on a moment that was not meant for you to see.

You hated the way how your mind began to spiral, unearthing old, buried feelings that you had tried so hard to forget and ignore. You thought you had moved past it, but now, sitting there, it was undeniable. You had loved Oscar, or at least something close to it. You never admitted it to anyone, not even to yourself. But it had always been there, in the way your heart quickened when he smiled at you, in a way you always wanted to make him laugh, in the way you looked for him in every crowded room.

But you never told him. How could you? He was Oscar—steady, kind, driven, and you were you. A troublemaker. Reckless. Always saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. You had convinced yourself a long time ago that someone like him could never feel the same way about you, that you were not the kind of person he would ever want.

But now, watching him with her, it only proved what you had always known deep down. They looked perfect together, in a way you could never imagine yourself fitting into his life. She had the kind of refinement and grace that seemed effortless, while you were rough around the edges and acting on impulsive decisions.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to look away, but it was already too late. The image of them, of Oscar, was already etched into your mind, and as you sat there, you chest heavy with an ache you couldn’t shake, you knew that saying goodbye to this house and street was not the hardest part of leaving Brighton.

The hardest part was letting go of something you never truly had.

You were standing by your family car, hands crossed to your chest, waiting for your parents to finish up inside when you heard someone call your name. Turning, you saw Nicole walking briskly towards you, face lighting up as she reached you. Before you could even say anything, she had already extended an invitation for you and your family to come over to their house for the afternoon.

You hesitated, glancing towards your parents who were just stepping out of the house. A quiet panic bubbled inside you, this was not what you were expecting, and you certainly were not in the mood to socialize. But you did not want to be rude, especially to Nicole who had always been warm and kind. So, with a quiet nod, you agreed.

The Piastri house hadn’t changed that much. The familiar scent of home cooking and the subtle hum of conversation greeted you the moment you stepped through the door. Your parents were warmly embraced by Nicole, their chatter filling up the air as if no time had passed since your last visit. You lingered near the entryway, unsure of where to place yourself, when you heard excited voices. Hattie, Edie, and Mae appeared out of nowhere, voices high-pitched with excitement as they spotted you.

Before you could even say a word, they wrapped you in a tight group hig, their arms squeezing you with an intensity that left you breathless. You tried to laugh it off, but it came out as a wheeze, your words muffled by the weight of their embrace.

“Alright, let her breathe!” Oscar’s voice cut through the chaos.

The three of them reluctantly stepped back, each of their faces flushed with excitement. You caught your breath, offering a weak smile as they began firing a series of questions at you in rapid succession.

“How have you been?”

“What are you up to these days?”

“How are you finding Sydney?”

The questions came at you like a tidal wave, and you barely managed to mumble a response before another question followed. It was overwhelming, too much all at once, and just when you felt yourself starting to falter, Oscar intervened again.

“Okay, that’s enough interrogation,” he said, tone light but firm as he stepped between you and his sisters. “Give her a minute to breathe, yeah?”

Relief washed over you, but it was short-lived. Now, it was just you and Oscar, and the silence between you felt louder than anything his sisters had said. You looked at him, unsure of what to really say or where to start, and in the end, you settled for the safest and simplest thing you could ever think of.

“Congratulations by the way,” you said, voice quieter than you intended. “On making it to F1.”

His lips curved into a smile, soft and genuine. “Thanks. It’s been a crazy few years.”

You nodded, really unsure of how to respond, and the silence threatened to stretch on uncomfortably. But then he added, “I’m back in Australia for the Grand Prix.”

“Oh, that’s amazing,” you said, meaning it. “I’m proud of you, Osc. Really.”

Oscar tilted his head slightly, a smile turning into a more playful one. “You still don’t watch the races, though, do you?”

You laughed softly, the sound surprising even you. “No. It’s still not my thing.”

“Figures,” he said, laughing along with you.

The moment felt almost normal, a small glimpse of the easy connection you used to share. But it was fleeting. Oscar shifted slightly, his expression changing as he turned towards the doorway.

“Oh, by the way,” he said, tone casual. “I want you to meet Lily, my girlfriend.”

Girlfriend.

Lily. There she was. She stepped into view, her presence effortless and magnetic. Up close, she was even more stunning than you had realized, her features flawless and her demeanor warm. She smiled at you, and it was not forced or polite, it was kind, genuine, disarmingly sweet, and most of all, welcoming.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you,” she said, extending a hand. Her voice was soft, yet it carried an ease that made you feel immediately out of place. “Oscar had told me so much about you.”

“All good things, I hope,” you shook her hand, offering a small smile in return. “It’s nice to meet you too.”

As she spoke, her kindness and charm were really undeniable, and you found yourself unable to summon any ill will towards her—it even made you feel bad for even thinking about something badly about Lily. She was lovely, perfect even, and though you wanted to find a reason to dislike her, you couldn’t. Lily was everything you were not—poised, polished, radiant.

The three of you stood there, exchanging conversations. You couldn’t help but take in the way Oscar looked at Lily—the softness in his eyes, the way his smile lingered when he spoke to her. It was clear how much she meant to him, and as much as it stung. You felt a lump rise in your throat, but you swallowed it down, forcing yourself to smile and nod along to the conversation.

It was going to be a very long day, and you just have to get through it. You reminded yourself that this was not about you—it never had been.

The Piastri household was buzzing with life as the afternoon was painted with golden hues. Inside, everyone seemed immersed in their own words. Your parents were deep in conversation with Nicole, their laughter and voices carrying through the air as they caught up on years of life. Hattie, Edie, and Mae were busy entertaining themselves, their giggles occasionally echoing from another room. Oscar and Lily sar close together, their connection evident in the way they talked and laughed, though they were kind enough to include you in the occasional exchange.

Observing what was happening around you, you can’t help but feel out of place, as though you were floating on the edges of a scene that didn’t belong to you anymore. You forced a polite smile, and excused yourself with a mumbled explanation about needing to grab something from the car. No one seemed to question it, and you slipped out of the house unnoticed.

As you closed the door behind you, you let out a breath that you hadn’t realized you had been holding. The tension that had coiled tight in your chest while you were inside slowly began to unwind. You stuffed your hand into your black leather jacket pockets and started down the quiet street, letting your feet guide you without much thought.

The familiar streets brought a wave of nostalgia, and as you walked, your mind wandered back to simpler days. Eventually, you found yourself wondering if that small family-owned store—one where you and Oscar used to visit after his karting victories, was still there. It felt like eons ago, but the memory was sharp and vivid—you and Oscar bursting through the shop’s door, with Oscar still giddy from the races, and celebrating his win with an ice cream as though it were the most important ritual in the world.

When you turned the corner, there it was. The modest storefront stood just as it had all those years ago, the paint already slightly faded but otherwise unchanged. The familiar bell above the door chimes as you step inside, and the scent of sweet, aged wood mixed with the faint aroma of candy hits you instantly. The store looked exactly the same. Shelves lined with old fashioned sweets, rows of snacks, and that unmistakable freezer filled with ice cream in the corner. Your eyes scanned the small shop, and behind the counter stood great old Uncle Roger, his face lighting up with recognition as he spotted you.

“Well, well,” he said, settling down a box he had been unpacking. “If it isn’t trouble itself!”

A wide grin spread across your face. “Hey Uncle Roger,” you greeted warmly. “You still remember me?”

He chuckled, stepping around the counter to stand in front of you. “Of course, I do! How could I forget the little rascal who used to hide in my back room to hide from the chaos she caused and would sometimes scare my customers away?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I wasn’t that bad.”

“Oh, really?” he shot back, raising an eyebrow. “Need I remind you of the time you pulled that prank with the balloons and the flour? Or the time you locked that bou Tommy out of the store and wouldn’t let him back in?”

You laughed again. “Okay, maybe a little chaos.”

“And poor Oscar,” he continued, tone light. “You used to drag him into all your mischief. That boy was too patient for his own good.”

You softly chucked as you nodded. “Guilty as charged,” you admitted. “Though, to be fair, Oscar was a willing accomplice most of the time.”

Uncle Roger let out a hearty laugh, the sound filling the small shop. “That he was. Good kid, though, and look at him now—a big shot race. His folks must be over the moon.”

“They are,” you said, smiling faintly.

“And what about you?” Uncle Roger asked, rone softening as he studied you. “What have you been up to all these years? You look different. Grown up.”

You hesitated, not wanting to delve too deeply into everything. “Life has been…pretty interesting,” you replied vaguely. “Moved to Sydney, tried to figure things out. It’s been a ride, that’s for sure.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly sensing there was more to the story, but he did not push. “Well, you’ve always been a fighter,” Uncle Roger said kindly. “I’m sure whatever it is, you’re handling it like a champ.”

You smiled at his words, though a part of you felt the weight of them in a way he could not even understand. “Thanks, Uncle Roger,” you said softly.

He grinned again, stepping back towards the counter. “Now, I assume you didn’t just come in here to reminisce. Let me guess—you’re here for the ice cream, aren’t you? Same flavor as always?”

You laughed, a genuine sound this time, and nodded. “It wouldn’t feel right to leave without it.”

“Coming right up,” he said, already moving to the freezer. “Some things never really change, do they?”

The hours slipped by without you even realizing it. Time seemed to pause within the walls of Uncle Roger’s store, the air filled with the nostalgic hum of its old ceiling fan and the occasional chime of the doorbell. You had taken it upon yourself to help behind the counter, ringing up purchases and chatting with customers as though you had been working at the store for years. It wasn’t part of the plan, but when Uncle Roger had laughed and handed you an apron, you could not resist.

“I’ve always wanted to work at a place like this,” you had told him earlier with a grin, and he’d chuckled.

“Well, here’s your chance to experience it. Just don’t scare off the customers,” he’d teased before heading to the back to work on inventory.

Now, perched on a stool behind the counter, you twirled a lollipop between your fingers, its sugary sweetness lingering on your tongue. The small television mounted by the corner played a rerun of an old sitcom, the laughter track punctuating the quietness of the store. You glanced at the clock, realizing just how much time had passed since you had walked through the door, but you didn’t mind.

The familiar chime of the doorbell pulled your attention back to the counter, and you straightened instinctively. “Hello, welcome to Uncle Roger’s!” you greeted brightly, a practiced smile already in place.

When your eyes landed on the customer, your heart skipped. It was Oscar.

Oscar’s smile was warm and slightly amused as he approached the counter. “I had a feeling that you would be here,” he said, leaning casually against the edge of the counter, eyes flicking to the apron you wore, and his smile widened. “But I didn’t expect to find you working.”

You shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Well, it’s not everyday you get to live out a childhood dream. I figured, why not?”

He chuckled, shaking his head lightly. “Of course you would.”

He made his way to the drinks section, scanning the shelves before grabbing a couple of items. When he returned, he placed the drinks on the counter in front of you. You glanced at them as you reached for the scanner, hands immediately pausing when you recognized the brightly colored packaging.

It was a sunshine punch. Two juice boxes.

Your eyes flickered to Oscar briefly. “Sunshine punch, really?” you asked casually, though you couldn’t hide the slight surprise in your tone. “I thought you hated this stuff.”

He shrugged, expression unreadable. “Maybe my taste has changed,” he said simply.

You just hummed un acknowledgement, though you couldn’t help but wonder. From what you had remembered, he could barely stand the smell of it, let alone drink it. Then you wondered, maybe it was for Lily and him, you thought silently, and the thought of it tugged at something in your chest.

As you rang up the items, you kept your tone professional, if not, a bit playful. “Would you like to bag these?” you asked.

Oscar shook his head, a small grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “No bag, thanks. Gotta save the turtles, right?”

You laughed softly at that, handing him the total. “Fair point,” you said, watching as he counted out the cash. You handed him his change, slipping into a mockingly formal tone. “Thank you for shopping at Uncle Roger’s, please come again!”

The two of you burst into laughter at how silly you sounded, with your laughter filling the quiet store. It felt easy, natural—like stepping back into a moment frozen in time. But as the laughter faded, a sigh escaped your lips, unbidden.

Oscar laughed outright at that, shaking his head as he pocketed his change. “You sound way too serious. Are you sure you haven’t secretly been doing this for years?”

You chuckled, leaning your arms on the counter. “Hey, I’m just trying to be professional. Gotta make a good impression on the boss.”

“How about we go to that public pool that we used to go to as kids?” Oscar said as he lingered near the counter while you glanced back at him, processing his unexpected suggestion.

“The abandoned pool?” you repeated softly, a mix of surprise and curiosity in your voice.

It had been years since you had even thought about that place, let alone considered even going back there. The idea felt surreal.

“Yeah, it’s still around,” he said with a small shrug, tone casual, though there was a glint of something, maybe akin to nostalgia, in his eyes.

You hesitated for only a moment before nodding. “Yeah, sure. Alright, let’s go,” you agreed.

You head towards the back of the store, pushing open the swinging door to find Uncle Roger hunched over his clipboard, meticulously counting boxes.

“Hey Uncle Roger,” you called gently, not wanting to startle him.

He looked up from his work, expression softening when he saw you. “Finished already?”

You gave him an apologetic smile. “I think I’m going to clock out for the day. Oscar and I are heading out for a bit.”

Uncle Roger’s gaze flickered to the counter, where Oscar was waiting patiently. A wide grin spread across his face as he stepped out from behind the storage shelves.

“Well, now. Look who decided to stick around,” he said, tone warm and teasing. “And in my shop, no less. Oscar Piastri, the Formula 1 driver!”

Oscar laughed lightly, hands tucked into his pockets. “You make it sound way more impressive than it is, Uncle Roger,” he replied modestly.

“Nonsense,” Uncle Roger said with a wave of his hand. “I always knew you were destined for greatness the moment you sat in that kart. It’s good to see you, son.”

Oscar smiled, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. “It’s good to see you too.”

Uncle Roger’s attention turned back to you, eyes twinkling. “Having you two here today, it’s just like the old times,” he said with a wistful sigh. “You, running around causing trouble, and Oscar, trying to keep up.”

You chuckled, feeling a wave of warmth at his words. “Well, as you said, some things never really change,” you said lightly.

Uncle Roger patted your shoulder. “You’ve been a big help today, my dear. I’ve been meaning to start on that inventory for weeks, but I couldn’t leave the counter. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

“Anytime,” you said earnestly. “I’ll visit whenever I’m back in Brighton, I promise.”

He nodded, expression softening even further. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Before leaving, you stepped forward to give him a hug, the kind of hug that lingered just long enough to let him know how much his kindness meant to you. You removed the apron and switched it for your black leather jacket. Oscar chimed in with a quick ‘take care, Uncle Roger,’ and you both made your way out of the store, the bell chiming softly behind you.

Relief mingled with a touch of surprise as you nodded your head. “Alright then.”

When you arrived at the abandoned public pool, it was like stepping back in time—a time capsule. The cool air carried a faint scent of earth and old concrete, and the quiet hum of the town surrounded you. You immediately made your way to the part of the chain-link fence that you had cut through all those years ago. A crude, jagged hole that had somehow withstood the test of time. You crouched down to inspect it, your fingers brushing the edges of the worn out metal.

“I can’t believe that it’s still here,” you said softly, more to yourself than Oscar.

The faintest smile tugged at your lips when you noticed the hole had clearly become a regular entrance for others. “Looks like I set the blueprint for sneaking in, huh?”

Oscar chuckled behind you, voice warm. “Yeah, you’re a trendsetter,” he teased.

You ducked through the opening in the fence, Oscar following close behind. The pool area was almost unrecognizable, yet unmistakably the same. The once-pristine tiles were faded and cracked, the pool itself empty and hollow, walls were now layered with colorful graffiti—messages, drawings, and names scrawled over one another in a chaotic tapestry. Though the old sunbeds still lined the deck, many were now broken and rusted. The whole place felt frozen in time, yet irrevocably changed.

Your gaze landed on one particular sunbed, its white paint chipped and the straps slightly frayed. “Oh, that’s the one,” you murmured, walking over to it.

Dusting it off with your hands, you lowered yourself onto the sunbed, letting the weight of the moment settle over you. Above, the stars were scattered across the vast expanse of the night sky, their light faint but steady. The air was still, and for a while, it felt like the world beyond the place didn’t exist. Oscar settled down on the sunbed beside you, legs stretched out, and arms resting on his knees. Like you, his gaze was fixed on the sky. For a long time, neither of you spoke, the silence between you comfortable—familiar.

You were so lost in your thoughts, mind drifting through memories of this place, that you didn’t notice Oscar moving until you felt something brush against your hand. Turning your head, you saw him holding out a juice box of sunshine punch. The drink you thought that Oscar bought a shop were for someone else, turns out that it was for the two of you.

Your breath hitched slightly as your eyes darted from the juice box to his face. “You bought this for me?”

Oscar smiled, a little sheepishly. “For us,” he corrected. “Figured it’d be fitting.”

A soft laugh escaped you as you took the juice box from his hand, the cool surface pressing against your palm. “Thanks, Osc,” you murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

You popped the straw into the box, taking a slow sip. The familiar tangy-sweet flavor hit your tongue, and for a moment, you could almost imagine that you were back to being kids again—hanging out in the abandoned public pool, celebrating one of Oscar’s karting wins with ice cream from Uncle Roger’s, inciting chaos, and never ending laughter.

Breaking the stillness, Oscar’s voice came, quiet but steady. “How are you?”

It was a simple question that has an easy answer to it, but the question hung in the air, heavy despite its simplicity. You paused, gaze fixed on the sky above. After a moment, you decided to answer, keeping your tone light.

“I’m fine.”

Oscar turned his head towards you, his expression curious but patient, waiting for you to elaborate. You took another sip of your drink, stalling for time. Finally, you added, “you know, the usual. Just…life.”

It was not much of an answer to Oscar’s question, really, and you knew it. But it was the only answer that you were willing to give him. You’re glad that he didn’t push, though his eyes lingered on you for a moment longer before he looked back up the sky.

“Any plans?” he asked after a pause.

You exhaled softly, lips curving into the faintest of smiles. “Plans,” you repeated, as if testing the word. “I don’t know. Maybe I’ve stopped making them.”

Oscar’s brows furrowed slightly at your answer, and you felt his gaze on you again. You tilted your head back, eyes tracing the constellations.

“Plans are funny, you know?” you continued, voice thoughtful. “You make them, and then shit happens. Sometimes, you end up where you thought you’d be, and other times…” you trailed off, shrugging lightly.

Oscar tilted his head slightly, watching you.

You smiled faintly, letting out a soft laugh. “It’s like what I told you back then? Last time that we were here, on the exact same sunbeds we’re sitting on—wherever life takes me, right?”

He smiled at that, the memory lighting up his expression. “Wherever life takes you,” he repeated softly, as if testing the words in his own voice.

“You know…Lily’s amazing,” you said, tone light but sincere. “She’s a very lovely girl, Oscar. I mean, she’s gorgeous, obviously, but more than that. She’s kind, and has this certain warmth to her that makes it impossible not to like her.”

Oscar glanced at you, a small smile forming on his lips. “She really is,” he agreed softly, voice carrying a sense of pride.

You nodded, your own smile growing. “You two are like a perfect match. Yin and yang, you know? She really balances you out. You know that you’ve always been on the quieter side, but Lily brings out the best and talkative part of you.”

Oscar chuckled at your statement, eyes briefly meeting yours. “She definitely doesn’t let me stay quiet for long.”

You laughed softly, though your thoughts remained bittersweet. “I saw the way she looks at you,” you continued. “It’s so full of love. It’s the kind of look people dream of, you know? You’re really lucky to have her.”

His expression shifted slightly, as though he was not sure how to respond to the unexpected depth of your words. He gave a small nod, his smile turning a little shy.

“I’m proud of you, Oscar. Really.” you added, voice a little quieter now. “For finding someone like Lily. She’s good for you, and I’m happy knowing that she’ll be there for you.”

There was a pause before you continued on, tone suddenly turning more painful, though there was a weight beneath the lightness of it. “At least now I know that someone will be by your side when I’m gone.”

Oscar frowned slightly, he felt a little chill and was caught off guard by your words. “What do you mean by that?” he asked, confused.

You hesitated for a moment, quickly realizing how your words could have sounded. You forced a small laugh, hoping to brush it off. “I just mean, you know, since I had moved to Sydney,” you said, tone casual. “I’m not here anymore. I can’t be by your side like I used to back when we were kids.”

His expression softened, though he still seemed a little bit puzzled by your words. You just smiled softly, looking up again as you added, “but it’s okay. You’ve got Lily now, and she’s amazing. You’re in good hands.”

The walk back from the abandoned public pool was quiet. The kind of quiet that was not uncomfortable, but heavy with so many unspoken words. The sound of your boots scuffing against the pavement and the faint rustling of leaves in the cool night air were the only things breaking the silence. Your hand stayed inside the pockets of your black leather jacket, the smooth lining a small comfort against the cold night.

Oscar walked beside you, his own steps steady and unhurried. You could feel his presence, solid and familiar, yet neither of you made any effort to fill the stillness. There was nothing pressing to say, and perhaps, that was enough.

When you finally turned the corner leading back to your neighborhood, the headlights of your parent’s car came into view, cutting through the dim light of the street. Your parents were standing beside it, their postures relaxed but expectant, while Nicole leaned casually against the hood, arms crossed. As soon as they spotted you, your mother straightened up, relief softening her features.

“There you are!” she exclaimed, voice a mix of mild concern and amusement. “We were starting to wonder where you’d gone off to.”

Oscar was quick to answer, tone light and easy. “We were at Uncle Roger’s shop, just catching up.”

Your father nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips, while Nicole’s expression softened, her gaze flitting between you and Oscar. “It’s so good to see the two of you spending time together again,” she said warmly.

Your mother stepped forward, placing a gentle hand on your arm. “We should get going, sweetheart,” she said softly, eyes kind but tired.

The goodbyes came swiftly after that, each one carrying its own weight. Nicole pulled you into a tight embrace, warmth and familiar scent grounding you for a moment. “Take care of yourself, okay?” she said, voice quiet but firm.

When Nicole let go, it was Oscar’s turn. He stepped closer, arms wrapping around you with a firmness that caught you off guard. It was not one of those quick, polite hugs—it was the kind of embrace that lingered, as if he were trying to hold onto something fleeting.

“I’ll see you soon, okay?” he murmured, voice low and sincere. Then he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, a small, boyish grin appearing on his face. “And you have to come to my race one of these days. No more excuses.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, shaking your head. “Alright, we’ll see,” you said lightly, though you both knew it was not a promise.

With that, you turned and walked towards the car. As you reach for the door handle, something makes you glance back over your shoulder. Oscar was still standing there, hands tucked into his pockets, watching you with an unreadable expression. You gave him a soft smile, lifting your hand in a casual salute. He returned the gesture, a faint smile playing on his lips.

Sliding into the backseat of the car, you buckle your seatbelt as your father starts the car. The low rumble of the engine filled the silence, and as the car began to pull away, you could not resist a one last look at Oscar through the rearview mirror. Oscar was still standing there, framed by the faint glow of the streetlights, his figure growing smaller and smaller until he disappeared from the view entirely.

You did not look back again, you never looked back. But something in you stirred—a quiet, unshakable feeling that this night, this moment, would never come again. Neither of you could have known that this would be the very last time you would see each other. The very last time Oscar would ever see you.

[hoe4hotchner]

Helloooo, how are you?I want to make a request about Aaron. Where he and the reader are almost dating but he doesn't feel ready, so he rejects the reader, and she understands. Time passes and they have to go to a case somewhere else, and the officer in charge is an ex of the reader. But not a bad ex, but a really good one, they interact and he confesses to her how much he misses her. I leave the ending to your consideration, thank you ❤️, I love your writing

Almost | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader | WC: 0.9k | CW: Hurt (Is that even a genre?), past relationship, rejection, mild heartache?, miscommunication, it could probably qualify as unrequited love during some parts of the story.

When Aaron rejected you, you understood.

He had stood in front of you, his jaw tense, his hands clenched into fists at his sides like he was physically restraining himself from reaching out. The words had come quietly, like he was ashamed to say them.

"I can’t. Not yet."

You had seen the hesitation in his eyes, the conflict flickering beneath the surface. He wanted you, you knew that much. It was the way his gaze lingered when he thought you weren’t paying attention, the way his fingers ghosted over yours when he handed you a file, the way his voice softened when he said your name. But wanting you and being ready for you were two different things. And you understood that. You understood him.

So you had smiled, forcing a lightness into your voice that you didn’t feel. "I understand, Hotch."

His mouth had pressed into a thin line, like he had hated hearing you call him that again. Like it made the distance between you all the more real.

And so you had walked away, ignoring the ache in your chest, pretending it didn’t feel like losing something before you even had the chance to call it yours.

Months had passed since then, months filled with cases and long nights, with stolen glances that neither of you acknowledged, with tension so thick it was suffocating.

And now you were here, miles away from home, standing beside Hotch as you were introduced to the officer in charge of the case you were called onto.

The moment you saw him, you hesitated.

"Y/N," he breathed, his tone was thick with nostalgia.

A slow smile spread across your face before you could stop it. "Matt?"

Matt was the man you had once thought you might spend your life with. A man who had loved you without hesitation, without fear, without walls—even when your job had become more demanding than his, calling you away more than you were home.

Hotch went still beside you.

Matt grinned. "I can’t believe it. You look—" He huffed a soft laugh, shaking his head. "You look incredible."

Warmth filled your chest, a feeling of something familiar and bittersweet bubbling within. "You too."

Hotch hadn’t moved. Hadn’t said a word. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see his fist clenched at his side, his thumb struggling to do that thing he only did when he was trying to focus.

Matt glanced at him, his brow lifting slightly before turning back to you. "We should catch up after this. Get a drink or something."

There was no ulterior motive in his voice, no expectation—just two people reconnecting after years apart.

Hotch walked away.

Hours later, you found yourself outside, the cold night air settling over your skin. The case was far from over, but for now, there was a brief lull, it gave you a moment to breathe—finally.

The sound of footsteps approached from behind you. The tension in the air shifted subtly, and without needing to glance over your shoulder, you knew exactly who it was—his footsteps alone spoke volumes, a rhythm you had come to recognize in your bones years ago.

"Are you going to see him?"

The question wasn’t casual. It was quiet, clipped, barely contained. You exhaled, tilting your head up to the sky, spotting a few stars peeking out from behind the clouds. "I might."

"Do you still love him?" Hotch finally spoke after a long pause

You let out a breath that was almost a laugh, though there was no humor in it. "Aaron, what does it matter?"

"It matters," he said, and this time, his voice was raw, something fraying at the edges. "It matters to me."

You turned then, searching his face. He looked calm on the surface, as he always did, but you could see the tension in his posture, the way his fists curled at his sides for the second time that day, the way his jaw clenched.

"Why?" you asked softly.

His breath hitched, just barely. "Because I—" He stopped, swallowing hard. His gaze dropped, and for the first time, he looked uncertain. "Because I should have never let you walk away."

Your chest tightened, something sharp twisting inside you. "You didn’t let me walk away. You pushed me away."

His eyes shut briefly, as if the words physically hurt him. "I know."

You took a step closer, close enough that you could see the exhaustion in his face, the faint circles beneath his eyes. "Aaron," you murmured. "You told me you weren’t ready."

"I'm still not," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. His gaze locked onto yours, something breaking in the depths of his dark eyes as you stared at each other. "But I can’t stand the thought of losing you to someone else."

The words hung between you, heavy, aching, and too late—they were not enough.

You inhaled slowly, shaking your head. "That’s not fair to me."

His jaw tensed, his hands flexing like he wanted to reach for you—just like that day—but knew he had no right to. "I know that too."

Silence stretched between you, filled with all the words neither of you had said before.

Then, finally, you sighed, your lips curving into something sad, something resigned. "You don’t get to keep me in limbo, Aaron. If you want me, you have to choose me. Otherwise, I have to move on. I can't wait for you to be ready, what if that day never comes?"

His throat bobbed as he swallowed, as if the thought physically pained him. His eyes searched yours, they were desperate and conflicted, understanding your reasons, but not wanting to believe them.

He said nothing.

And you? You didn’t wait for him to.

You turned, walking away before the ache in your chest could consume you. Because this time, it had to be his choice.

And you weren’t going to wait forever.

[strandedtoodeep]

Poolverine fics rec' ✨

Yes, FINALLY.

So, basically what the title said: some poolverine's fics recommendation because i have 150+ bookmarks and sharing is caring so let's go!

I'll put title, link, tag the author (if they are on tumblr), numbers of words & chapters and probably silly summary or thoughts

I'll be adding some in the future with a red exclamation❗

The ones without smut have a bunny emoji 🐰

My faves are on top

If you have some recs i'm happy to take them thank you 🤲

Faves

Come Hell or High Water by @farmhandler 84k, 11 ch. || love when a fic take mental health seriously and talk about it in a way that feel so right? (bonus the smut is *chef's kiss*

Promise Me We'll Be Back In Time by @back4destiel 108k, 17 ch. || 50 First Dates was one of my favorite movie when i was a preteen (yeah) so this fic fill me with nostalgia and happiness

where soul meets body by @edgebug 33k, 3 ch. || one of my first poolverine's fic and it sets the bar so HIGH (and tbh i cried so much reading it, it's concerning)

silence is what i do best (but still i hear it all) by @cainroses 25k, 3 ch. || feral! logan is very dear to me and the character's voices in it?? absolutely delightful (beware the smut is very good but spicy)

Until you get sick of me, honestly by @3koboldsinahoodie 151k, 27ch. (on going) || i love it so much i want to forget it and discovers it again, the peak of two idiots in love it's beautiful

whoever makes my baby cry (is gonna lose some teeth tonight) by @wickedscribbles 16k, 4 ch. || love some genderplay, bottom and protective logan, my dear, i love it but most importantly the writings is scrumptious

The Void by @rovingotter 115k, 23 ch. || i'm still trying to process what i feel with this fic, please please read this blindly and i assure you, you'll never be the same

The Soundtrack by @greatsnakestintin 43k, 15 ch. (on going) || love a good road trip fic, love music so it's absolutely perfect for me! and the plot is so?? fascinating???

Kaleidoscope by Space_wanderer 79k, 14 ch. || CHAPPELL ROAN REFERENCE! when Logan is such a idiot Wade need to go get him AGAIN in his universe

Don't you want me to run? by @decaying-lover 89k, 26 ch. (on going) || if you love angst, this fic will serve you ANGST! love their dynamics, the tension, their voices, everything

❗Maximum Effort by ArtemisFAYZ012 168k, 33 ch. || OMG the plot?? the spicy spices?? the intimacy between Logan and Wade (AND Logan who falls so HARD for Wade)

On going

Somewhere I belong by @terrasilvershade 24k, 6ch. || another girls dad AU but this one, my god!!! the feels?? it's so interesting to see Logan being envious and it's writing so well

❗Do I Wanna Know by @slut-arc 13k, 5ch. || a 5+1 fic! It's cute and fluffy but also with sparkles of angst, and the ice skating scene??? didn't leave my mind for days ugh

Baby(girl) Don't Hurt Me by @peargreen-jellybean 16k, series with 4 works || 4 fics and i love them all! some good poolverine pining & domestic bliss + men in lingeries (my weakness)

❗Under Your Skin, Over the Moon by RatFlavored 5k, 2 ch. || first Soulmate AU i read for Poolverine and i love it??? So much??? think this trope is underrated ngl, and it's well written!

In Another Life by @flash-bastardd 32k, 10 ch. || x-men origins but better! (bc it's gay) i have some feelings with this movie but this fic healed me and i love it!

❗don't i give you what you need by @wickedscribbles 5k, 2 ch. || i cannot not put the new work of Wicked here, it's so good and the heartbreak??? the angst??? my heart bleed so much for them

call me when you’re ready to be real by @maroonmused 23k, 9 ch. || "and they were roommates" ofc like it's not absolutely obvious for EVERYONE except themself; a very good domestic bliss!

❗Echoes Through the Timeline by @piplover 64k, series with 4 works || i loved so many works in this series, specially the first and last one, break my heart and heal my soul

How To Pay For Rent 💸 by @fictionfeast 59k, 4 ch. || this fic feels like a fever dream, but a OH SO GOOD and well writing fever dream! (ngl as a french person Craig List scares me)

❗🐰 unhappy man syndrome by @gossippool 19k, 5 ch. || don't know if i'll recover from this fic, ever, but i'm so invested and it's pure whump all over (HUG FOR EVERYONE YALL)

❗Got My Mind Set On You by @buttsforabettertomorrow 23k, 4 ch. || Logan try so hard to be good and accepting in this one i love him so much lmao (and it confuses Wade so it's a double win)

🐰 Christmas in Canada by @thatoneartyishperson 7k, 3 ch. || listen, Halloween is still my favorite holidays but Poolverine AU Hallmark Christmas Movies ? URGH i'm here for it!!

❗back to the old house by @nico-di-angelol 71k, 8ch. || it's so interesting that i'm MAD at myself for not reading this earlier, yep it's THAT good! beware chap. 7 will break your heart

Synergy and Entropy by @artemis-pendragon 46k, 19 ch. || i was so sure that i'd put this fic here but no??? anyways, the hurt and angst in this fic are so astronomically good, so beware

❗🐰 Mr. Forgettable by @eliemo 40k, 7 ch. || okaaayy listen, this one make me cry every time i read it, idk how to explain why it feel so personal to me but it'll move you

🐰 make me into something sweet by @mothgardens 30k, 8 ch. || AU poolverine WITH MUSICAL CLASS? it's... it's beautiful! particularly love the dynamic between Logan and Wade in this one

❗knee deep in this thing called life by @secondbreakfastwizard 86k, 13 ch. || i'm so OBSESSED with this fic, autistic Logan is so dear to me (maybe bc i relate a lot) and these two are so stupidly in love

Complete

🐰 the dollhouse by @kanashikute 4k, OS || love the fluffiness in this fic, love how Logan accept to love, be loved and doesn't left Wade behind UGH they're so cute in this one!!!

❗Pavlov’s Dog by @panties-on-boys 18k, 11 ch. || this is the kind of fiction that obsesses me so much, and i don't even like perfume; it's the most smutty slow burn ever hehe

Girl Dads by @starburstsobsessions 40k, 16 ch. || AU poolverine's fic are fire and this one, THIS ONE, omg! this fic makes my dream (aka seeing dilf! logan) a reality

🐰 Glass Shards by greaserbabes 9k, 2 ch. || always love when Logan and Wade are SO STUPIDLY in love; ngl the scene with the glass shards make me cry every time

You Should Feel My Nature Too by sterlingstars 10k, OS || so uh, i love stripper! Wade okay? it's not really that with this one but it's as good AND wholesome (and spicy too) so yeah

🐰 The Folly Of Playing Gay Chicken Too Hard (Phrasing) by GayLord3000 3k, OS || the domestic fic where Wade is the stupid one, being so stupid in fact it's nearly cost him his relationship with Logan whoops

Love shot by lillygoeson 28k, 6ch. || another bartender! Logan one, but AU no powers AND with a good "twist" in the middle; this fic is so bittersweet and good oml

Don't Want To Be A Fool For You by @cuntylogan 96k, 5 ch. || bartender! Logan who try to fight his addiction (and slowly fall in love) has a special place in my heart, you go boy

❗🐰 This Old House by @twentyghosts 30k, 16 ch. || AU with patient! Wade and handyman! Logan, they fall in love, it's full of angst, fluff, hurt, and with a very cute ending

look at you by @weedwilson 3k, OS || yes it's shameless smut and mirror sex, my beloved... and I LOVE when Logan worshipping Wade this much bc he deserves it

❗🐰 Is It Casual Now? by @twilightkitkat 6k, OS || love this bc i have so many feelings about how the X-Men have treated Logan, i love seeing him stand up for himself **sob**

It's Just Chemistry by @farmhandler 37k, 5 ch. || in the same universe of Come Hell or High Water, there is so... so much angst but it's very good angst!!! still love this specific dynamic

🐰 We Should Just Kiss (Like Real People Do) by @nikaandtea 8k, OS || HOZIER REFERENCE! i'm still so happy when a fic talk about chronic pain combined with domestic bliss i'm totally sold

Night Terrors by educatedwish 50k, 13 ch. || love how Logan is written is this fic, how PTSD messed with his feelings in a serious way... my heart melt every time i read it

❗🐰 Relationship Advice by fir_forest 1k, OS || no but the idea of a fic like a relationship advice post on reddit??? i love this!! short, but sweet and very funny hehe

second nature to me now by @edgebug 36k, OS || a investigation in a gay club??? with my two idiots in love?? and with old gay Logan? i giggled so hard reading this, i LOVE IT

🐰 It Feels Like Home by @twentyghosts 10k, 6 ch. || one of my favorite trope is the 5+1 and this one... my god, right in the feels! so much fluffiness, coziness, it warm my heart

a loaded gun, can't contain this anymore (i'm all yours, i've got no control) by @obihoebikenobi 6k, OS || i have nothing to say other than read the tag hehe! but yeah love the concept, the smut is spicy (always like some focus on the claws)

🐰 stuck by the glue (oh and you) by prngslvr 3k, OS || a good rewriting of (some scenes) from DP&W, and one of my first fluff and non-smut fic that i read after watching the movie!

Let Me Get Back to You by RatFlavored 14k, 2 ch. || pls i want to read more fics with phone sex in it (i know it's specific) but in the meantime, this one is SO good (and full of feels too)

❗Heat of the Moment by @finelydressedspacemen 11k, 4 ch. || non traditional a/b/o my beloved!!! and it's always a little bit satisfying to see Scott mentioned (hehehe the drama)

tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow by signifier 10k, OS || i have a thing for time loop and this kind of fuckery, it's short but good and i love the title it make me chuckles

🐰 Take Me Through the Darkness to the Break of the Day by The_Colour_Yellow 17k, 10 ch. || a very good fic around hanahaki disease with my two favorites idiots??? sign me in! even with so much hurt and angst UGH

Oh, God, I Think I'm Fallin' by @slut-arc 15k, 5 ch. || the return of domestic poolverine and YES I KNOW but it's my weakness... and Logan is so emotionally constipated it's concerning

🐰 Little Reflection by @wickedscribbles 11k, 5ch. || poolverine + cute cat + Logan suffering from anxiety and i'm sold! because ofc Logan is a true and pure cat (and dog) dad

❗i bet we’d have really good come right on me, i mean camaraderie by @notesappwitch 31k, 2 ch. || bodyswap trope, love the character's voice bc it's so on point, very funny, a lot of emotions and the spicy scenes are perfect

the bucket list by @kanashikute 33k, 4 ch. || read this one, please, really, it's so bittersweet BUT i promise there's a good ending (and i cried so much while reading it)

🐰 he’s the headlights, I’m the deer by NatalieK 7k, OS || it's interesting to see Logan's losing his healing factor for once instead of Wade! and seeing Wade taking care of him, my heart

when you get a taste, can you tell me what's my flavor? by @slut-for-a-good-latte 5k, OS || one of my favorite thing with poolverine is psychic/quantum thingy bond because of the Time Ripper and this one DELIVERS!!

🐰 holding out for a hero by @splinnters 6k, 3 ch. || once again, i have a soft spot for Logan trusting Wade so much he called him when something is wrong and this, THIS is good

❗it's all in my head but i want nonfiction by @obihoebikenobi 21k, 3 ch. || Wade pinning x Logan perfectly happy in his relationship with his boyfriend who doesn't know he's his boyfriend it's perfect

🐰 I've got some color back (he thinks so too) by @mid13s 3k, OS || just a short fic with non-sexual intimacy because these two need comfort, hugs and a lot of affection (and the Hozier reference is chef's kiss)

who are you, really? by @edgebug 45k, 4 ch. || the sequel of where soul meets body and it's also an absolutely masterpiece! and still trying to process my feelings for this fic

[gracieeegleegal]

The Misus said so | T. Owens

Tyler Owens x wife!reader

A/N: so I’m obsessed with Glen Powell and of course I had to do a little something with Tyler Owens because Glen looked so good in that movie. Hope you enjoy!

SUMMARY : After chasing a tornado, Tyler suggests the team take a break in his hometown—a place none of them have ever visited, except Boone. To their surprise, they discover that Tyler shares his home with a pregnant woman he refers to as his wife and a young boy he calls his son.

WARNINGS : fluff, Tyler being head over heels for his wife, cuteness, some inaccuracies regarding tornadoes

3.4k words

The sun was just beginning to set as the red truck and van rumbled down the dusty back roads of the Arkansas countryside. Tyler Owens was behind the wheel, relaxed but focused, his hands steady as he navigated the familiar terrain. In the passenger seat, Boone sat with an easy grin, the kind only a best friend could wear, fully at home in the quiet camaraderie of the ride. He occasionally glanced at Tyler, clearly anticipating something more than just a pit stop.

In the back seat, Lily was hunched over her tablet, reviewing footage from Cairo, her drone. “The inflow jets were insane,” she murmured. Boone snorted, swivelling to glance at her.

Boon leaning towards Tyler with a raised eyebrow whispered so only Tyler could hear him. “So, when are you gonna drop the act? I know where we’re headed.”

Tyler chuckled, but his eyes stayed on the road. “Guess it was hard to slip one past you, huh?”

“You think?” Boone replied with a smirk. “What gave it away—oh, I don’t know, maybe the fact that I’m Jake’s godfather?”

Tyler shushed him, not wanting Boone to spoil the surprise. Of course Boone knew about your existence and of your son. Boone had been Tyler’s best friend for years, even before they started YouTube. He had been there when you guys met, started a relationship, got married, had your son and the last time he was there was for your gender reveal.

Lily leaned forward and turned toward Tyler, a crooked grin plastered across her face. “Alright, Ty, spill it. Where the hell are we going? You’ve been suspiciously quiet since we left the highway. And now you’ve got Boone whispering stuff into your ear. When has he ever been this quiet?”

Tyler chuckled but kept his eyes on the road. “Relax, lily. I told you, we’re heading to my hometown. Figured we could all use a real bed and a home-cooked meal for a change. Motel breakfasts are starting to taste like cardboard.”

Dani, who talked from the radio given that she was behind in the Van, raised an eyebrow. “Your hometown? Tyler you’ve only ever talked about it once, what is there to do here really? Is there some sort of catch?”

“No catch,” Tyler replied smoothly. “Just thought you guys deserve something better. And I figured it’s finally time you meet someone really important to me.”

The rest of the team stayed curious and said nothing more. They trusted Tyler—he had proven himself time and again in the chaos of the storm-chasing world. If he said they were in for a treat, they believed him.

After another twenty minutes of winding roads and open fields, Tyler turned onto a long gravel driveway lined with vibrant green grass. The farmhouse at the end of the drive came into view, its white paint glowing softly in the golden light of the setting sun. Animals roamed nearby, adding life to the picturesque scene.

The team climbed out of the Truck and Van, stretching their legs and taking in their surroundings. The farmhouse was surrounded by rolling fields, with a red barn off to one side and a small garden near the porch. The air was warm and smelled faintly of wildflowers and fresh hay. There was a small lake in front of the farmhouse surrounded by fences.

“Wow,” said Dexter, the least chaotic team member. “It’s… peaceful.”

“Yeah,” Tyler said softly, his voice carrying a hint of nostalgia. “It is. Home sweet home,” Tyler said as he approached the house more.

Boone followed his pace, grinning. “Ah, the Owens family ranch. Been too long since I’ve been here.”

“You’ve been here before?” Lily asked, surprised.

“Sure have,” Boone replied. “I’m practically family.”

The front door creaked open, and you stepped onto the porch, wearing a white top stretched slightly over your rounded belly and a pair of jeans. Tyler’s cowboy hat sat snugly on your head, the one he hadn’t worn in years. Your face lit up the moment you saw him, a smile breaking across your lips.

“There’s my troublemaker,” you said warmly, your accent as sweet as honey.

Tyler’s grin widened as he climbed the steps, pulling you into a gentle hug careful not to press too hard against your belly. “Hey, darlin’. You look beautiful.”

Boone didn’t hesitate. “Y/N! Look at you, glowing as always. How’s my niece?,” he said, bounding up the steps to greet you. He hugged you warmly, then ruffled your hair affectionately. “And still stealing hats, I see.”

You laughed. “Good to see you too, Boone. Baby’s fine. And yes, it’s mine now.” You turned back to your husband and hugged him once again. The hug felt like home. After days worrying for your husband he was finally back home and in your arms.

The team hung back awkwardly, unsure of what to do. Dexter was the first to break the silence. “Uh, hi. I’m so confused right now.”

You laughed loudly, your eyes twinkling. You knew the team must be confused, as Tyler had never spoken about you unless it was with Boone. “Y’all must be Tyler’s team. I’m Y/N. The wife.”

Upon the reveal, the team let their mouths hang open in shock. They never imagined Tyler out of all people would be married with a kid on the way. He was always the reckless one, the first to jump into danger. Nobody ever really thought about him potentially having a family, with the way he was. They also didn't expect Boone to have known and let this a secret for so long. That man can never shut his mouth.

Tyler turned back to his team, gesturing for them to come closer. “Everyone, this is Y/N—my wife. Y/N, meet the crew: Boone you already know, This is Dexter, Dani, and Lily.”

You smiled warmly and waved them inside. “Y’all must be starving. Tyler called ahead, so I made enough food to feed an army. Come on in and make yourselves at home.”

As the group filed into the house, Lily glanced at Tyler, her eyes wide with surprise. “You’re married? And… you’re going to be a dad?”

Tyler grinned sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. “Yeah, I guess I never mentioned that, huh? Meet the real reason I get back in one piece after every chase.”

The house was cosy, filled with the comforting smells of roast chicken, fresh bread, and apple pie. The dining table was already set, you had clearly gone out of your way to make the team feel welcome.

“This is incredible,” Lily said, taking a seat at the table. “You really didn’t have to go all out for us.”

You waved her off with a laugh. “Oh, please. Tyler told me how hard you’ve all been working. Besides, I saw the live stream of that last tornado. Y’all are insane, by the way. I thought I’d reward your bravery or, well, craziness with a good meal.”

Boone leaned back in his chair, grinning, finally happy to be home. “It’s both, Y/N. And that tornado was a beauty, wasn’t it?”

“Did you see the way the funnel shifted when it hit that open field? Classic EF-3 behaviour.” Tyler suddenly asked as he turned to you. You smiled at the excitement in your husband's voice, nodding towards him. Despite dropping out and never finishing his career in meteorology he was quite well educated in the field of tornadoes.

Dexter nodded, his voice animated. “And the inflow jets—did you catch those? Perfect conditions for a multi-vortex system.”

You chuckled as you started serving the food. “I don’t understand half of what you’re saying, but I could tell y’all were thrilled. It was like watching kids on Christmas morning.”

As the conversation flowed between all of you, a soft noise interrupted. From the staircase next to the dining room came the sound of small, hesitant footsteps.

Everyone turned to see a little boy, about three years old, standing at the bottom of the stairs. He was rubbing his sleepy eyes with one hand, clutching a worn stuffed bear in the other. His curls were tousled from sleep, and he blinked at the group with a mixture of curiosity and shyness.

“Daddy?” the boy said softly, his voice thick with sleep.

Tyler’s expression melted. “Hey, bud,” he said, getting up from his chair. He crossed the room in a few strides and knelt down to scoop the boy into his arms. “What are you doing up? Thought your momma put you to sleep for the afternoon.”

The boy rested his head on Tyler’s shoulder and mumbled, “I Had a dream.”

Tyler kissed the top of his son’s head and held him close. “It’s okay, buddy. Daddy 's here.”

Boone chuckled, leaning back in his chair at the sight of the small kid. “There 's my boy. Come here, kiddo.”

Jake squirmed out of Tyler’s arms and ran to Boone, climbing onto his lap. Boone greeted him with a fist bump. “What’d I tell you about staying up past your bedtime, huh?”

Jake giggled. “Uncle Boone!”

The rest of the team stared, dumbfounded. Dani finally blurted out, “Wait you knew about this?!”

Boone shrugged. “Of course. I’m his godfather and uncle. Perks of being Tyler’s actual best friend.”

“Everyone,” Tyler said, turning back to the group, “this is Jake, our little man.”

Jake lifted his head from Boone's shoulder and looked at the team, his big brown eyes scanning the unfamiliar faces. “Hi,” he said shyly.

Lily smiled warmly. “Hi, Jake. I’m Lily. It’s nice to meet you.”

You walked over and gently ruffled your son's curls. “Jake, these are Daddy’s other friends. They’re going to stay with us tonight.”

Jake’s face lit up. “Really?”

“Yep,” Tyler said, bouncing him lightly. “And you know what? I think they might even make pretty good aunts and uncles, don’t you?”

Jake giggled, his earlier sleepiness forgotten. “Yeah! Now I have more people to play with!”

“That’s right buddy.” Boone smiled, hugging the kid one last time before he jumped out of his lap and went back to his fathers embrace.

The meal progressed with a light-hearted warmth that settled over everyone like a blanket. Boone and Dexter were animatedly recounting their most chaotic storm-chasing moments, while Dani and Lily chimed in with their own tales. Jake sat on Tyler’s lap, happily munching on a slice of buttered bread, his small hands gripping the edges of the plate to keep it steady.

You observed the scene with a soft smile, your hand resting on your growing belly. Tyler caught your gaze as he let his free hand rest on top of the one holding your belly. He smiled down at you. He was happy to be home.

“You’ve done good, sweetheart,” he said, his voice low but full of admiration.

She tilted her head, her smile widening. “Couldn’t have done it without you, Ty.”

The team exchanged subtle glances, sensing the affection radiating between the two. Lily, unable to resist, leaned over to you. “You two are adorable. What’s your secret?”

That caused a laugh out of you. “Oh, it’s no secret. Just a lot of patience and knowing when to call him out on his nonsense.” You shot Tyler a teasing look, and he feigned innocence.

“Hey now,” Tyler said, grinning. “I’m a perfect angel.”

Jake looked up from his plate, his face lighting up with a mischievous grin. “Daddy’s silly!”

The table erupted into laughter, and Tyler tickled Jake’s sides, eliciting a burst of giggles from the little boy. “Come on Bug, eat all your food. Don’t want you to be hungry later.” You looked at your son as you gently grabbed his bread and gave it to him. Gently caressing his forehead and kissing his cheek lovingly. All while Tyler stared at you with adoration in his eyes.

As the evening wore on, You excused yourself briefly to check on the dessert. Tyler took the opportunity to follow you into the kitchen, leaving Jake to sit back on Boone lap and be entertained by the team.

The kitchen was warm and cosy, filled with the comforting aroma of apples and cinnamon as you carefully pulled the steaming pie from the oven. You moved with practiced ease, placing it on a cooling rack, when suddenly you felt a familiar presence behind you.

“Now, what do I have to do to get my hands on a slice of that?” Tyler’s voice was low and teasing, the grin audible in his tone.

You smirked, not bothering to turn around. “Depends. Are you talking about the pie or me?”

Tyler laughed softly and stepped closer, slipping his arms around your waist, his front pressed against your back. “Both, but let’s start with you.” He leaned in, brushing his lips along the curve of your neck.

“Ty,” you said, your voice half a warning, half a giggle. “We have company, remember? We don’t want Boone to catch us again do we?”

“They’re busy stuffing their faces and trying to keep Jake from giving Boone another black eye,” he murmured, his lips trailing to your ear. “Besides, I don’t get moments like this nearly enough.”

You sighed, leaning back into his embrace. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“And you’re gorgeous,” he countered without missing a beat, his hands sliding up to rest gently over your growing belly. “And carrying my baby girl? That makes you even more irresistible.”

You carefully turned in his arms, bow facing each other as you rested your hands on his chest. “You’ve got a silver tongue, Mr. Owens. Has it ever gotten you into trouble?”

He grinned, his hazel eyes sparkling. “Only when I’m not careful. Lucky for me, I married a woman who keeps me in line.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re not so cocky now, are you?”

“Only with you,” he said, leaning down until your foreheads touched. “Well, and maybe with Jake when he gives me that little puppy-dog look. Kid’s got my heart wrapped around his finger. Can never say no to him.”

You laughed softly, holding his figure even more, not wanting to let go. You leaned your head on his chest, looking sideways outside the window to the sun that illuminated your home.

“You’re incredible, you know that?” he murmured as his chin rested upon your head.

“And you’re a shameless flirt.”

“Guilty,” he admitted, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “But seriously, I just wanted to thank you for this. For all of it. I know it’s not easy having me running around the country chasing storms.”

You turned in his arms, eyes meeting his. “Ty, I knew what I was signing up for when I married you. I wouldn’t have it any other way. Besides, you always come back to us. That’s what matters.”

His expression softened, and he placed a hand gently on your belly again. “And soon, there’s going to be even more reason to keep coming back.”

You placed your hand over his, your smile tender. “She’s going to love you just as much as Jake does. Maybe even more if she inherits your stubbornness.”

He chuckled. “Let’s hope she gets your patience instead.”.

Your expression softened as you traced a finger along his jawline. “You’re a good dad, Tyler. I see it every day in how Jake lights up around you. And I know you’re going to be just as amazing with our daughter.”

He kissed you softly, a lingering tenderness in the way he held you close. “That’s the plan, sweetheart. Keep coming back to you, Jake, and this little one. Always.”

The moment was interrupted by a loud crash from the dining room.

“Jake!” Boone’s voice carried through the house. “Why am I always the bad guy?”

“It wasn’t me!” Jake shouted back, his voice ringing with childlike defiance.

You groaned, pulling away with a reluctant smile. “Guess I’d better rescue Boone before Jake recruits the others against him.”

Tyler laughed, giving you a playful smack on the ass as you walked away. “Don’t take too long, baby. I’m still waiting on that pie—and you.”

You threw him a teasing look over her shoulder. “Behave, Ty.”

When you stepped back into the dining room, Jake was perched on Dexter’s lap, gleefully recounting how Boone had “knocked the chair over all by himself.” Boone stood nearby, arms crossed and feigning offence.

“For the record,” Boone declared, “this kid’s already mastered the fine art of scapegoating.”

“I learned it from Daddy!” Jake said with a giggle, earning a roar of laughter from the table.

You sighed, shaking your head as you started slicing the pie. “I see Jake’s picking up all your best habits, Ty.”

Tyler grinned shamelessly, taking a seat next to you. “Can’t blame the kid for wanting to be like his old man.” He reached over to ruffle Jake’s curls, then turned to you. “But if you want to keep us in line, you’d better bring that pie over here before we all riot.”

You rolled your eyes, setting the pie on the table with a grin. “You’re lucky I love you, Tyler Owens.”

He leaned back in his chair, giving you a wink. “Lucky’s an understatement, baby. I hit the jackpot.”

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

As the last bite of pie was finished and the laughter around the table quieted, you leaned back in your chair, feeling satisfied but a little tired. Tyler’s gaze met yours across the table, his expression softening with concern as he stood up, stretching his back.

“We need to clean up.” You muttered under your breath, ready to stand up until Tyler pushed you gently back down to sit.

“Alright, everyone,” Tyler said, his voice carrying the gentle authority that always seemed to get things done. “You’ve all eaten, now it’s time to let my wife take a break. She’s been working hard today.”

Jake, who had been leaning back in his chair, looked confused. “Why do we need to clean up?”

“Because the Missus said so,” Tyler interrupted with a wink, his playful grin lighting up his face. “And trust me, when the Missus speaks, everyone listens.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the playful banter between them, but you appreciated how Tyler always made sure you weren’t overburdened. It was his way of showing care, in everything from big gestures to little moments like this.

One by one, the team began to rise from the table, and soon enough, the dishes were being cleared away. Boone and Dexter were the first to take charge of the plates, laughing as they competed to see who could load the dishwasher faster. Lily helped wipe down the table, while Jake, who still looked a little reluctant, finally took the trash bag outside with Boone’s encouragement.

It didn’t take long before the kitchen was tidied up, and the team filed out to check on the horses. You watched them from the window as they made their way to the stables, chatting with Jake in tow, all smiles and laughter. You felt a contentment settle over you, watching the scene from your peaceful spot inside.

Tyler, noticing that you hadn’t moved from your seat, stepped toward you and held out his hand. “You need a break, too,” he said softly, as if reading your thoughts. “Come on, let’s get some fresh air.”

You stood, taking his hand, and together you walked outside to the front porch. The soft evening light bathed the world in golden hues as you made your way to the rocking chair. Tyler sat first, patting the seat next to him, and you sank into the chair beside him, leaning back with a sigh of relief.

Tyler settled beside you, his hand resting gently on your baby bump. His thumb traced slow circles, a tender gesture that made your heart swell. You closed your eyes for a moment, letting the gentle rocking of the chair soothe your tired muscles. The sound of the team’s voices echoed from the stables, a distant hum of joy and energy, but it felt far away from the calm you found in this quiet moment.

You rested your head on Tyler’s shoulder, your fingers resting over his hand on your belly. “Tired?” He asked you, noticing your calmness and weight on his shoulder.

“No. I’m just thinking about how much I missed you.”

He kissed the top of your head, wrapping his arm tighter around you. “Missed you more. And I mean it, Y/N. Everything we’ve built here… it’s the reason I keep going. The reason I come back.”

Your eyes glistened as you looked up at him. “You’re the reason this feels like home, Ty.”

He smiled, tilting your chin up so he could kiss you again, slow and sweet. “Then I guess we’re even, Baby.”

[cinturongazo]

just got the weirdest anon for saying i didnt like happy gilmore

2 notes

⛺golferswantbeer Follow

just say you hate to see a narrative of unconventionally attractive men becoming valuable in classic aesthetically cisheteronormative elite fields. and you claim to be a communist, fucking liberal

0 notes

🐣chucklarryshipper Follow

girls don't want minimum wage girls want fun jokes and a chill hang out with a beer and to control the universe with a click and to organize a fake wedding so we can be each other's trophy husbands with tax benefits

4018 notes

🐱‍🚀c0medyangster 👒👒👒👒👒👒👒👒👒👒👒👒👒 Follow

i kinda wish adam sandler didn't do so many comedy movies, i want a comedy movie that's just vaguely humourous but has substance, i can't handle jokes constantly being thrown at me

🦂shinel1kead1am0nd Follow

op uncut gems???

🐱‍🚀c0medyangster 👒👒👒👒👒👒👒👒👒👒👒👒👒 Follow

too boring 😕 i want something more positive

5848 notes

😈clicnc-dom Follow

what if i were to hypnotize you so you don't remember me and i made you mine more than 50 times

10 notes

Based on your likes!

🐸laughingboss 🟢🔵Follow

need a hot chick with some banging long skater shorts that can handle a good fart joke

832 notes

🐸laughingboss 🟢🔵Follow

why do all the female sandlerheads dress like adam and not the multiple hot, empowered women he dates? dont they want to be empowered too?

💝dykesandler Follow

keep posting like that you'll see how many sandlergirls will fuck you

1420 notes

💝dykesandler Follow

look at what my butch found in the thrift store. you're not gonna hear from us for like a week lmao 🥴

1369 notes

👻elevatedsandlerhead Follow

i'm not an actual elevated sandlerhead appreciator i just post smut

80 notes

Since you were looking for #hubiehalloween

👻elevatedsandlerhead Follow

His to Control - Hubie x f reader

minors dni 🔞 - Content warnings below:

Read more

593 notes

🐱‍👤c1nephil3 🟢🔵👒👒👒👒👒👒Follow

Grown Ups 2 is a cheap, empty, corporate attempt to resuscitate the glory of Growns Ups (2010). The use of CGI instead of the practical effects awaited dearly by the public are a sign that anyone who enjoyed this movie is clearly not a connoisseur of the essence of the sandlerverse. too many callbacks to the original and what made it great instead of focusing on a real movie, too many forced references to the sandlerverse. characters weren't simpathetic or deep, a cliche of what hollywood expects us to laugh at. comedies should be deep and have your laugh coming from the depths of the abdomen until you're struggling to breathe. instead i struggled to not YAWN. Pathetic sequel, marks the death of cinema.

letterboxd - imdb - rotten tomatoes

8 notes

🍼 softlittlenicky Follow

𝐻𝒾… 𝐼'𝓂 𝒷𝒶𝒷𝓎 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝒸𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓂𝑒 𝒩𝒾𝒸𝓀𝓎…. 𝐼 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒𝒹 𝐿𝑒𝑜 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝐵𝑒𝒹𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒 𝒮𝓉𝑜𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓈 🍬 𝒯𝒽𝑒𝓎'𝓇𝑒 𝓂𝓎 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝒻𝑜𝓇𝓉 𝓂𝑜𝓋𝒾𝑒𝓈. 𝒞𝒶𝓃 𝐼 𝑔𝑒𝓉 𝓂𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝓂𝑜𝓋𝒾𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝒸𝓈? 🍭

👾fartylicious Follow

pixels, it's a nostalgia feast

🍼 softlittlenicky Follow

𝒾 𝒹𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓈𝑒𝓍 𝒿𝑜𝓀𝑒𝓈 🍭 𝑔𝓇𝑜𝓈𝓈 𝓅𝑒𝑜𝓅𝓁𝑒 𝓂𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓂 🤢

🦚peeandcock Follow

how did you get through little nicky then

🍼 softlittlenicky Follow

𝒾 𝒹𝒾𝒹𝓃'𝓉 𝓈𝑒𝑒 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒 𝓃𝒾𝒸𝓀𝓎, 𝒾 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝒽𝒾𝓂 𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝓅𝒾𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓉. 𝒽𝑒'𝓈 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒, 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓂𝑒 🥺

42 notes

👹butchverse Follow

now why is he butch here

🧡adamsapphler Follow

would watch jack and jill if this was jack and jill. who said that

3984 notes

Based on your likes!

[bbydoll18xx]

The Road Not Taken (Looks Real Good Now)

You’re home, back in Minnesota for the holidays, and you're really missing Paige's smile.

Paige Bueckers x Reader

Masterlist

Word Count: 1.7k

Themes: Pining, falling in love with you childhood best friend

A/N: well I was listening to Tis The Damn Season in the shower and daydreaming so that’s how we got here. I really like this, and I hope you do too :)

Please enjoy

~

‘Nostalgia is a mind fuck.’

That was the first thought in your head as you awoke in your childhood bedroom, peeking through the sparkly purple curtains that adorned your window. 

The backyard was blanketed in a soft, thick sheet of snow, illuminated by the golden sun of the late morning. 

You had traded the bustling streets of Los Angeles for the sleepy, quiet suburbs of Minnesota, and for a moment, you almost forget the real reason you decided to come home for Thanksgiving this year. 

It wasn’t for your mom’s famous pumpkin pie. And it certainly wasn’t to explain to your nosy family members why you were in your mid-twenties and still single. 

It was all because of Paige and her ridiculous ability to pull you away from every rational thought in your brain. It was almost laughable. 

Paige Bueckers was your childhood best friend. But there was always an underlying pull that you felt towards her, like your soul physically ached to be close to hers. 

You think back to the moment you knew it was more than just a friendship, the sudden realization slamming into you, knocking the breath out of your lungs and leaving your head spinning. 

You never told her. 

Your head was still spinning. 

It spun throughout college, as you followed her to UConn like a pathetic puppy. It spun as you watched the plane leave as it took her to Dallas when she first got drafted. And when you moved away from home to try and forget about the love in your heart, the desire to be close to her grew, rendering you forlorn.

You could feel the ache now, mixing with a drafty air floating in from the window. You shiver, pulling your blankets in closer around you, cocooning yourself in a protective layer.

You glance around your old bedroom. The holidays always bring back the harsher memories of your childhood. But you were a grown woman now, thank you very much, so you’d push down those old feelings of worthlessness and insecurity.

You were going to see Paige today. And maybe, for just this weekend, everything would be okay again. 

~

“Sweetheart, please tell me you’ve finally found a nice, young man to settle down with,” your grandma croons from across the dinner table just as you put another forkful of mashed potatoes into your mouth. 

A strangled sort of groan escapes your full mouth, her words not necessarily shocking you. You get this question every single year. 

You swallow, sipping your wine, desperate for the alcohol to sink in and take the edge off. “No, grandma. Still single,” you reply politely. She tuts and shakes her head with disapproval.

“Well there’s this nice boy I can set you up with. He goes to my church, and he’s just lovely,” she simpers, drawling on about how he was so proper and wears a cross across his chest. 

‘Paige goes to church,’ you think bitterly, trying not to roll your eyes.

You look despairingly around the table, glaring at the smirks that adorned the faces of your cousins who were obviously glad they were not the brunt of the family matriarchs’ matchmaking. 

“Oh that’s okay, but thank you. Hey! Did Aaron tell you about his new girlfriend?” You exclaim, as your grandma’s attention turns toward your older cousin, finally leaving you in the clear. 

You take a deep breath, taking another, longer drink of your wine as your watch buzzes against your wrist. 

Your eyes slyly glance down, not wanting to be accused of being rude at the dinner table, and your heart jumps dangerously in your chest as you see who is messaging you. 

‘I love my family but, god, they’re too much. Pick you up at 8? I’m using my dad’s truck.’ Paige had texted.

‘Amen. If my grandma tries to set me up again, I might just light myself on fire. See you then.’ 

The words were so simple. But there was so much more that was unspoken. And later as you finish your pie, you can’t help but think that maybe those unspoken words would finally be coming to head tonight. 

~

You stare at yourself in the mirror for the third time in five minutes, pushing your bottom lip out in a subtle pout before glancing at your phone again. 

You hadn’t seen Paige since she was in L.A playing against the Sparks this past summer, and the idea of being wrapped in her arms again, listening to the familiar sound of her heartbeat was becoming just a little overwhelming for you. 

You think back to the way you had cried the whole way home from the arena, wanting to beg her to take you with her. You had never felt so alone after that day, the realization settling in your chest with a thick, harsh finality that it was definitely more than just a tiny crush. 

You had spent years pushing your feelings down. You had become accustomed to seeking bittersweet releases in strange beds in last-minute efforts to momentarily forget the image of bright blue eyes that plagued your sleep.  

Your friends thought it was great, encouraging your forced promiscuity because they’d simply never understand. Because they weren’t Paige. 

You look back at your reflection in the mirror. Your cheeks were flushed and your eyes were glassy with unshed tears. Blinking harshly, you look out your window, headlights illuminate your dark driveway, and your phone buzzes a moment later. 

You take a deep breath, standing up on shaky legs that carry you down and outside to meet Paige. 

The air was freezing, sucking out all of the warmth from your body. You shiver, wrapping your sweatshirt closer to you, watching as your breath escapes into the cold air in small clouds. 

You open the door to the truck, quickly hopping in and rubbing your hands together. “Fuck I forgot how cold it gets here,” you whine, noticing how the heated seat was already flipped on the passenger side for you. 

Paige chuckles, looking you up and down. “I missed you, too,” she teases, pulling you in for a hug. 

It was slightly awkward, the console pressing into your ribcage unpleasantly, but you sink into her arms, her warmth and her familiar scent putting you more at peace than you have felt in months. 

You finally pull away, your gaze locking with hers before letting it momentarily drift down to her lips and back up. She licks them as she notices you staring, forcing your eyes to quickly shift back up to hers.

“I did miss you,” you murmur, your words soft and vulnerable. 

“Course you did,” Paige laughs, throwing the truck into reverse and pulling out of your driveway. You ignore how your stomach flips as she puts her hand on the back of your seat and looks behind her as she reverses. Her hand moves across the spinning wheel with precision. 

“I miss having you drive me everywhere,” you confess wistfully, thinking back to high school and even college. She had gotten her license a month before you, but once you had yours, you rarely drove. You had always preferred her to drive you around. 

“You always were such a passenger princess.” 

The name slips off the edge of her tongue so casually, but behind your cool exterior, you were spiraling. 

She pulls into the parking lot of the high school and parks the truck, unbuckling and turning her body to face yours. 

Her hair is down, flowing over her shoulders like a soft, golden curtain, and the parking lot lights shine across her pale skin, almost making her glow.  

“How’s L.A?”

You shrug. “It's been fine. The weather is nice, and I’ve met some nice people the past few months. But it gets lonely.” 

“That’s how I feel about Dallas. But there’s talk about me getting traded,” she says looking down at her hands. 

“Traded? To where?” 

“The Sparks.” 

Your breath catches, and your eyes widen. Her face has a giant smirk that sends your heart throbbing with a rushing urgency. 

“You’re fucking joking,” you whisper. ‘Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“Nah. I’m trying not to get my hopes up but I won’t know for sure until next month probably.” 

Your mind is flooded with images of the two of you living together in the city, but you blink them away, keeping your hopes small and quiet. 

“That’d be cool.” 

The two of you stare at each other for a few seconds before busting out in loud laughter. 

“You and Cameron Brink together would, like, change lives,” you giggle. 

“You’re just sayin’ that because you think she’s hot,” Paige says, rolling her eyes. 

“She is,” you shrug. You weren’t going to admit to Paige that you thought she was in fact hotter than Cam. That was a conversation for another time. 

~

Time flies in the small space in the front seat of the truck, and you’re shocked to look over and see the clock reading 11 pm. You stifle a yawn, despite sleeping in this morning. The warmth from the car mixing with the peace that Paige brought was enough to lull you into a blissful sleepiness. 

“You wanna sleep at mine? For old time sake?” Paige asks, voice husky and raw. 

You look back over to her, trying to memorize the slope of her nose and the curve of her mouth. She was utter perfection, always had been and always would be. And with the distance, you were afraid you were going to forget her features.

The space created between the two of you had stretched to unbearable lengths since you had both graduated college. And now, sitting here, you didn’t think you had it in you to walk away this weekend. 

So as you mumble a quick word of agreement and as Paige pulls out of the familiar parking lot, your stomach ties itself into knots. 

Because the road not taken was starting to look real good now. 

And you weren’t sure if you’d ever be able to stop.

~

What did we think? Do we want a second part? Let me know:))

xoxo katy

Taglist:

@oldcrdigan, @paigebuxkets, @the-other-half, @patscorner, @tndaqlifwy , @ch12334 , @double22-k , @inthedeathofherreptuation , @authentic-girl03 , @blueredg52 , @kmoneymartini , @mrsarnold , @ittiwdwysylm @hobbybound @makethemhoesmad @moshuka @madivivic @bridgetloveswomen @melpthatsme @onlyhereforpazzi @cierraonline

Want to be added to the taglist? Comment or send me a message :)

[starsinthesky5]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

——————————————————

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

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

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

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

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

For real this time. 

Flashback to last night 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The best trophy anyone can possibly win,”. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

End of flashback 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He was so obviously drunk. They were all drunk. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But I-,”.

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

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

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

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

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

A few hours later - End of the Game

It definitely did not go away.

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

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

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

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

Flashback

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

End of Flashback

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

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

The QB sneak was just one example from this evening.

Flashback 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Joe was tying his shoes. 

That’s why he was crouched down. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

End of Flashback 

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

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

Flashback

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

End of Flashback 

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

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

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

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

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

Flashback to the last few seconds of the game 

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

Joe.

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

Just Joe. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

End of flashback 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But baby-,”.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A half-hour later 

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

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

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

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

your sister: link 🔗 

your sister: what’s going on??

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But you knew that this was Joe. 

Your Joe.

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

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

An hour or so later 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah,” you breathed out, “I know,”.

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Joe was home. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That was just the Joe effect.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

An hour later 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N?” a voice from behind you asked. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Flashback to 2020

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

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

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

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

That was the Joe effect. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Married. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shoot,” you replied. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay,” you grinned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

End of Flashback

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

End of Flashback 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

–To be Continued–

[appocalipse]

doomed plans : ̗̀➛ eddie munson

you and your ex, eddie, are trying to be "just friends". it's harder than you thought it would be. | exes to lovers, suggestive but no smut, 2.2k words

"Fancy seeing you here."

His tone is jocular, but the comment is more of an understated question than a simple greeting. There's no mistaking it—he's pleasantly surprised to see you here at this party.

He looks good.

Eddie Munson looks really good.

Or maybe it's just that being around him makes you feel good, after too many weeks of forcing yourself not to miss him. "Fancy seeing you, too," you respond. "Funny how Nance forgot to mention you'd be here."

A playful glint lights up his eyes as he sidles closer, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth—and the expression is so familiar that your heart leaps before you can think to tamp it down.

"Ah, well, I have a theory about that, actually."

"Do you?"

He gives an energetic nod. You're still trying to muster a casual air, despite the surge of...whatever the hell this is that's hitting you right now; a rush of emotion that's just different enough from mere nostalgia to be unsettling in its intensity.

"I do," he says with another nod, this one emphatic. His smile broadens as he peers down at you.

Oh, Jesus Christ. His grin. The warmth of it. The conspiratorial joy in it.

"Wheeler's too nice for her own good," he informs you. "She didn't want to mention me because she knew you'd bail."

"Why would I bail if you were coming?"

"Because of... you know." He reaches out and taps your hand—just a quick gesture, not lingering, but you feel the feather-light touch of his fingertip like an electric shock that ricochets up your arm. "The unresolved sexual tension and everything."

"What?"

"What what?" he echoes innocently, batting his eyelashes at you with exaggerated sweetness. Eddie loves this game, and he plays it well, even now. "Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about. You and me."

"You and me?"

"Me and you," he says, shoving his hands into his pockets and bouncing on the balls of his feet like an eager child on Christmas morning. The taunting tone is still there, but so is something else that makes your breath catch in your throat. "Done with that yet?"

"With what?"

"Whatever it is that's keeping us apart," he says airily, and then frowns as he eyes you again. "Which, come to think of it, I don't actually know. So, hey, let's talk about that."

"Eds," you begin, then catch yourself as his face lights up at the nickname, "Don't look at me like that. We agreed."

"We did?" He tilts his head and gives you a quizzical stare. "I don't remember that."

"Yes, you do."

"No, I don't."

You just give him a pointed look.

"Come on, Y/N." His tone softens, turns low and quiet and more serious than you're expecting. "I miss you. Do you miss me?"

He's staring at you so intently that you can't bring yourself to lie. You grab your drink and take a quick sip, to stall for time, because the real answer to his question is complicated.

The beer goes down too fast. "Eddie."

"What?" He sounds innocent, but he isn't fooling you for one second.

"Stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

"You know like what," you retort, trying to pretend that your pulse isn't pounding in your ears right now. "You're playing with me."

"Do you want to be played with?" he asks, dark eyes glinting again.

The playful remark makes your skin tingle with a heat that's all too familiar. It's not just the words, either. It's the way Eddie is watching you, the slight smirk curving his lips, the flirtatious shift in his posture as he leans into your personal space again, intentionally crowding you this time.

There's an answering heat in your face now, a flush spreading across your skin.

Fuck.

"You have no idea what I want," you retort, deciding that it's best to keep this exchange lighthearted.

"Bullshit," he replies. "I have a very good idea of what you want."

Eddie looks entirely too pleased with himself right now. You reach out and poke him in the chest. "And what is it that I want?"

He doesn't back away from the touch. Instead, he reaches out and pokes you back, touching your shoulder with gentle insistence as he inches even closer, until your face is just inches from his. "You want this," he says softly, gaze darting to your mouth and then back up again.

Oh.

"Don't," you say.

It's a halfhearted protest at best, though. And when Eddie raises an eyebrow, you shake your head with an exasperated sigh. You're well aware that you don't sound convincing at all. This conversation has spun wildly out of control in the space of seconds.

"Don't?" He parrots the word back to you in an incredulous tone, then pulls his lower lip between his teeth, watching you closely as he lets it slide back out from under his bite again, plump and pink and glistening in the low light. "I'm not doing anything."

Back up, you think. Move away. You shouldn't be standing so close.

You find yourself staring at Eddie's mouth for a beat too long before you look back up into his eyes. You smile. "You're going to get me all confused again."

"Good." He leans forward until your foreheads are nearly touching. "If I do it right, you'll start forgetting all those reasons you were using to convince yourself we should stay broken up."

You laugh as you shove him back a step, shaking your head. "See? There you go again."

He holds his hands up in front of himself, grinning widely as he speaks. "Look, all I'm saying is, sometimes you get all twisted up in your head about things. But, other times... well, you listen to your heart instead. You just need a little reminder that the heart is usually right."

"Oh, really?" You take another sip of beer. Tastes terrible. You wish it would at least do more to quell the butterflies suddenly fluttering in your stomach. "And who told you that?"

"Said so yourself, last summer." He stares at you with a wistful expression. "Remember? The lake. Sunset. I'd like to think you remember that day."

"Eds," you warn.

"And the night after that," he continues, his gaze turning molten now as he reaches out to smooth a stray lock of hair away from your face. "I remember every detail, I can refresh your memory if you want."

It's been too long since anyone has touched you like this, and your heart leaps as his fingertips brush your cheek. It's just an instant, gone in the blink of an eye. Still...

You really are touch-starved, though, if just the whisper of Eddie's hand against your face is enough to make you want to lean into his palm. "So, what are you suggesting?"

"Well..." His mouth twitches. "Are you going to kiss me, or should I kiss you?"

"Neither." You step back and take a sip of beer. Nope. Still terrible. "I, uh, gotta get some...air. Or something."

"Air, or something?"

"Yeah, I'm good," you mutter, setting the plastic cup down on the nearest available surface, which turns out to be a table stacked with pizza boxes. Your fingers find the wooden edge and you cling, leaning your weight into it. "Look, you need to stop doing that thing."

Eddie is watching you like a cat about to pounce on its prey. "What thing?"

"You know, the thing. The thing you do. It's very... persuasive. Very convincing." You fold your arms over your chest, because the safest course of action right now is clearly not letting him get close enough to touch you again. "And it's also not fair, because we agreed."

Eddie puts his hands on his hips and tips his head back, letting out an exasperated huff. "No, you agreed. I didn't agree to anything."

"Oh, c'mon. You did. And you know you did. We both did. It was mutual."

"Uh-huh." He makes a sound of amusement as he steps closer again. "Are you trying to convince me, or yourself?"

"I just—"

He reaches up, grips your chin with gentle insistence, and tilts your face up until your eyes meet. The world narrows until there's nothing but Eddie, who's looking at you with the same sweetly teasing expression he used to wear when he would lean over and whisper stupid jokes in your ear during class, back when you were still tentatively learning how to navigate each other, still in the shy, testing stages of that first year.

Except now, he doesn't look away as soon as you glance at him.

Now, he holds your gaze.

Now, his thumb traces your jawline.

Now, he gives you a moment to consider, before he leans in closer and presses his lips against yours.

It's not a kiss, really. Not quite. Just the suggestion of a kiss, a faint brush of his mouth against yours, a fleeting warmth that lingers for the space of a breath or two, there and then gone again.

You blink up at him, startled by the rush of heat that sweeps through you as his fingers linger on your skin. "Eddie—"

The next kiss is softer, slower, firmer. The gentle, searching pressure of Eddie's mouth on yours, unhurried and deliberate and sure, tugs at a piece of your heart that you thought was already mended, but he coaxes it into breaking open all over again.

"We...we..." You gasp, trying to remember why this is a bad idea. But the rational part of your brain is gone, shut off entirely by the little hum of contentment Eddie makes as he shifts his lips against yours. 

"We what?" His words are murmured against your lips.

Your mouth still feels like it's tingling from his kiss. You lean forward, swaying into him without realizing it. "We shouldn't—"

Another kiss. You let your eyes flutter closed, and Eddie nudges you backward until your shoulders hit the wall. 

His hands slide into your hair, fingers brushing through the strands, tilting your head back. You know you should stop him, but instead, you pull him closer, chasing the kiss when he breaks away, and, oh... his mouth is back on yours again, still slow, still soft, still measured. Not enough.

He is chuckling when he pulls back, the sound so quiet that you feel it more than hear it.

You think, This isn't fair. You shouldn't be able to do this to me. Not anymore.

The whole point of breaking up was so you could get over each other. This, right here? It is not helpful.

"Why, uh..." He clears his throat and trails off. When you open your eyes, you see him smiling down at you, flushed and disheveled, with a smudge of your lipstick on his mouth. "You've gotten really good at that."

Your hand goes up to his lips, finger swiping over the mark left behind by your lipstick. "So...you're saying I wasn't any good at this before, huh?"

Eddie bites his lower lip, his gaze darting to your mouth before sliding back up to meet your eyes again. "I'm saying we could've been doing this the whole time."

"We should stop, before...before...you know."

His nose nudges yours, a touch so fleeting it makes you want to tilt your face up to chase after it, but you stop yourself, because if you keep kissing him, you won't be able to bring yourself to stop. And that would be...bad. Definitely bad. You just can't remember exactly why right now.

"Before what?" Eddie asks in a low voice.

Your mouth, lips still warm from his, curves into a reluctant smile. "Eddie."

He's a breath away. "What, sweetheart?"

Oh, oh. You're in trouble. 

"You gotta stop kissing me," you say, as your fingers trail down his chest. He's so solid, warm under your touch. Your hands settle on his waist, and you grip the worn denim of his jeans to tug him closer even as you keep talking, trying to remember why you even wanted this breakup in the first place. "I'm, uh, working on getting over you."

"How's that going, by the way?"

"Terrible."

Eddie just laughs. "It is, huh?"

"Yeah, it is," you say. "But, see, I have a plan, and your kissing is messing up my plan. And my plan is a good one. So, don't mess it up. Please."

Eddie watches you, that fond, slightly smug smile on his lips again. He takes one of your hands in his and presses a kiss to the inside of your wrist, mouth lingering, his breath warm, eyes still on yours. "Tell me about this plan, then."

You make an indignant sound and try to tug your hand away. "It involves trying to spend less time with you, Eds. Like, you know, avoiding parties at friend's houses and all that. Gotta avoid those kinds of situations."

He presses his forehead against yours, and you sigh, leaning into the touch. "Why, exactly?"

"Because it's too... it's just too hard. It's really hard."

"I'll give you something hard, if you want," he says, a wicked gleam in his eyes.

You can't help but laugh. "You are the worst."

But maybe that's exactly what you need.

Well...that plan was doomed from the start anyway.

[flowafairy]

TONIGHT, GO CRAZY !

★ postscript. what i imagine the bllk men to be like at a christmas party. ★ feat. kaiser, rin, reo, nagi, sae, barou, bachira, shidou, isagi, otoya, karasu, aiku ★ contents. crack mostly, not really x reader LMAO

note. hello. i just wanna start this off by saying i am so so sorry for how late and rushed this is 😵‍💫. i scrapped my other multi cause the idea was sorta dumb and i didn’t know how to write it but.. merry ( late ) christmas and happy new year! hope you enjoy this silly little late gift <3

★ KAISER : WHO INVITED THE GRINCH BRUH..

absolutely does not want to be here, was forced to come because it was his birthday.. not that he actually cares about that. he probably got the most gifts, sent everyone like $1 as a return gift with a proud smirk—“money for the peasants, i guess.” his ass ate all of the cookies and would smack anyone who dared touch him.. ptsd ig 💙

★ RIN : PARTY LONER

not very fond of christmas after his brother dropped the bomb on him that he does not give 2 fucks about him. probably that one loner in the party who stays in the room upstairs. secretly wore a pendant that sae gave him on the last birthday they celebrated together, the picture being rin holding up sae’s trophy with a fond look on his face. christmas makes his heart ache with both nostalgia and sorrow.

★ REO : RICH AUNT

the rich aunt uncle, this motherfucker gifted every single person at the party something well over $1000, and the worst part is he knew exactly what to give everyone too. would brush it off with a “oh, its nothing. just spare change.” .. rich ass. screams in joy when someone gifts him something back, could be a $2 teddy bear and suddenly you’re opening your phone to ‘reo mikage has sent you $3000’.

★ NAGI : LONER #2

also forced to show up like kaiser. parties were never nagi’s thing, he’d much rather stay at home and play video games all day. it took a little bit of convincing ( and a lot of whining ) but he agreed to come if he could bring his phone. does not participate in anything, just lounges in the corner with the occasional damn it when he loses.

★ SAE : THE FUCKS A RETURN GIFT?

he came, with no gifts at all. according to him he expected everyone to be giving him gifts and not expecting anything in return.. i mean, his parents never asked him for a present back so could you blame him? yeah.. you kinda could. i could see him trying to make everything about soccer, imagine this: you’re unboxing your present and you get something like a new pan, and suddenly this bitch speaks up like. “shame its not a soccer ball.. this is why you suck.” someone tape his mouth now.

★ BAROU : PARTY HOST

helped hosting the party, cleaned the house spotless! he also probably cooked 70% of the food, thats what growing with sisters gets you :b. doubled as a security guard of sorts outside the house. except he didn’t ask for identification, he’d yell at you to take your dang shoes off before you walk in. spill anything on the floor? he is coming for you and your entire bloodline.. just kidding!

★ BACHIRA : “SANTA’S REAL..”

unironically believes santa is real, please help this man. to this date he still puts cookies and milk on the table. his mother used to eat them and keep a couple of presents under the tree, thinking he’ll eventually realise santa isn’t real.. which he didn’t. so when the presents suddenly stopped coming and no one ate the cookies, he thought he was on the naughty list forever and sobbed about it for 20 minutes.. poor guy. his heart shattered when isagi held his hand and told him santa isn’t real—he was only trying to help, he swears!

★ SHIDOU : “BRO YOU WEREN’T INVITED???”

shidou is the complete contrast from bachira. does not believe santa is real and crashes the party ( he was not invited. ) yells at children that santa isn’t real and started a tomato war at the party when someone threw a tomato at him and yelled booo! … thankfully, he was later kicked out.

★ ISAGI : SANTA.. NOT REALLY!

epitome of santa, the opposite of kaiser. made hand-made gifts for everyone.. well, almost everyone. ( did not bring one for kaiser <3 ) he had a mini concert at the party, singing his heart out until someone kaiser burst out laughing and started mocking his singing.. things got a little heated from there! lets just say the title of santa was taken away from isagi the moment his ass opened his mouth 💔

★ OTOYA : “WHERE THE HOES AT”

came for the hoes cause he was told there would be a bunch of hotties at the party, which there wasn’t.. but thats okay, he swings both ways! assaulted chigiri with his ninja moves until he got bored, probably pulled up a 10 slide presentation on why he should introduce him to his sister and that he’s got ‘the experience’.. yeah, he got slapped in the face.

★ KARASU : HO ACT LIKE HE A JUDGE..

everybody hates him. constantly judging literally everything.. “these cookies ‘r mediocre at best..” “i could gift ya somethin’ better cutie.” “damn, these decorations lame as hell.” you get the point. starts pouting like a man-child when isagi tells him to shut the hell up, he knows he deserves it but he just can’t help the lil itch in his brain to judge everything okay! ( he just like me fr.. red flag moment 💔 )

★ AIKU : HOES BEFORE BROS

cool unc of the party, drinks are on him alright. i can imagine him grabbing a random sharpie he found on a desk and suddenly giving out tattoo’s for a dollar, broke ass. works pretty efficiently until he’s being labelled a scammer when the tattoo turns out to look like dog shit.. cut him some slack, he’s no artist! leaves the party early when one of his hoes text him to come over.. ima slap the shit out of him n eita 💕

[3liza]

i saw a contrarian "the web was always shit actually you're just blinded by nostalgia" take on here the other day, presumably by someone under the age of 30, and i really disagree. im sorry "enshittification" is such a cringe word and i know we're all tired of it, but just speakinf for myself it describes a real process that i watched happen in real time.

and it's not that 90s-00s internet was unambiguously "good", because it wasnt, but there was a period around the web2 era where there was a really precarious balance of factors that produced an internet that was so easy and so much fun it was doomed to decay. i think the factors were probably too numerous for me to be aware of all of them, and many of those factors were financial/economic and linked to various dot com bubbles, but a few big ones that affected me directly were "normal, non-nerd people who were actually online were confined to walled gardens (Yahoo, AOL, basic email apps) which kept them off of the larger internet and it was very difficult for them to escape" and "'nerd culture' itself was not yet mainstreamed by Disney and other mass corpo buyins" (it is impossible to describe to anyone who wasnt there, but knowing literally anything about Star Wars was extremely niche until approximately the 2010s) and of course the major one was that while social networks existed in a primordial form (Livejournal, Myspace, et al), they were heavily influenced by factors 1 and 2 which just made them a considerably different experience. so a bunch of shit factors were not yet in place, but a bunch of the good stuff about online had already been established, and search engines were functioning better than they ever would again. it's not revisionist or reactionary or nostalgic to observe and state that, it's just true.

smartphones, surveillance, user cookies, and the gradual destruction of defenses against data gathering despite massive resistance developed unstoppably after this, i think it's pointless to lay the blame on users for any of this. you have to spend so much energy and acquire so much expertise to avoid being shunted into the Facebook meat grinder, my personal frustrations with the average civilian internet user notwithstanding, and the capitalist extraction machine is so powerful, that im not sure personal choice can even be considered a serious factor in any of this