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burrowdarling · 5 months ago

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“You’re the love of my life”

tell me about the first time you saw me* — joe burrow

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summary: on your annual lake trip, you find yourself reflecting on your relationship with joe

warnings: smut, fluff, swearing, idk what else

word count: 8.6k

taglist: @starsinthesky5 @joeyfranchise @joeyburrrow @burreauxsworld @burrowdarling @yelenasbraid

notes: FOR MY WIFEY @starsinthesky5 who requested this (literally almost seven months ago. i am so sorry arch) anyways this is based on the mashup taylor (would it be a liv fic if I didn't incorporate taylor somehow?) did at the eras tour (mary's song, so high school, everything has changed). hope you all enjoy 💖

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The rolling hills of Athens, Ohio welcomed you, feeling like a breath of fresh air, compared to the city of Cincinnati. For someone so adamant about leaving the town fresh out of high school, you felt at home. Maybe it was the company.

Joe’s hand rubbed soft, slow circles on your leg, grounding you with such a simple touch. His caresses drew your attention away from the scenery and back into the car. Joe sat with one hand on the wheel and the other on your knee. He wore a black t-shirt and a pair of pink shorts, an outfit that was a staple for him during the offseason. His sunglasses rested loosely on his ski-slope nose, shielding his eyes from the blinding sunlight as it began to set.

His head turned, his blue eyes locking on yours as the truck slowly slowed as the traffic light turned green to yellow. “Come here,” he mumbled after stopping completely. His hand gripped your jaw, both of you smiling into the kiss. The kiss wasn’t rushed, every touch slow and deliberate. The two of you just needed to feel each other for what little time you had at the red light. When you two pulled away for air, you didn’t separate; you just sat there, with barely any room between your faces, foreheads resting against each other. “It’s so good to be here with you,” Joe whispered as if he might break the intimacy of the moment if he talked too loud. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, looking at you like he was trying to memorize every inch of you, afraid you could slip away from him at any second.

You returned the sentiment, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead, earning a small giggle from him. It had become a tradition for the two of you to spend a week in Athens by the lake. Joe’s family has rented out the lake house ever since he was a baby, and you eventually started joining after the two of you started dating in high school.

This year felt different. With your wedding just a month away, this was the final weekend before the chaos would begin. In the upcoming weeks, you would be immersed in last-minute arrangements, picking up the cake, finalizing seating charts, and making sure every detail was perfect. This trip with Joe would be the calm before the storm, a chance to spend quality time together as the reality of the impending celebrations settled in.

For weeks, a single task loomed over you like a heavy cloud—your vows. It seemed pretty simple. All you had to do was write down all the reasons you loved Joe. You could list a million reasons why you loved him, so this should be easy, right?

You soon learned that it was much harder than you anticipated, your mind going blank every time you sat down with pen in hand. The words that felt so vibrant in your heart evaporated, replaced by a frustrating void.

Joe, on the other hand, had effortlessly come up with his vows, a process that seemed to come to him as naturally as breathing. This only deepened your frustrations, a mixture of envy and self-doubt within you. He assured you that yours would come in time, but you still couldn't shake the feeling of being a lousy fiancée. You had decided to set aside this problem for now, choosing to revisit the matter when you returned home, where you hoped inspiration would strike.

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“Are you sure you don’t need help?” you asked, your brows furrowing with concern as you opened the house's front door for him, the keys jingling in your hand.

“Baby, you’ve asked me that three times since we got out of the car,” Joe chuckled softly, carefully watching his steps as he descended the stairs. “I promise I’ve got the bags.”

“You worry me sometimes,” you said, pouting as you followed him inside. But then your eyes lit up, taking in the breathtaking decorations around you. The house had this cozy, rustic charm, with warm wooden beams and nature-inspired touches that made it feel so welcoming. Every little detail seemed to flow together perfectly, giving off this peaceful, woodland retreat vibe. You couldn’t help but smile, feeling instantly at home in the calm, earthy atmosphere.

“Welcome to the casa, babe,” Joe said with a warm chuckle, pulling you into a hug from behind. The familiar scent of his cologne wrapped around you as he gently set your bags down with a soft thud on the wooden floor of the bedroom.

“Thanks, even though I’ve been here probably 100 times since I was 16,” you giggled, taking a moment to soak in the charming decor. The room was bathed in soft, golden light, casting a warm glow over the plush pillows and colorful throw blankets that adorned the inviting bed. “I forgot how cozy it is here.”

“Well, if you’re into the cozy vibes,” Joe teased with a playful grin, “maybe we could cuddle up in bed and get lost in some movies.” He pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, making your heart skip a beat at the thought of spending a snug evening together.

“Oh, I’m definitely taking you up on that offer,” You laughed softly, the sound light and carefree as he pressed gentle kisses to your cheeks, his lips warm against your skin. “I remember all the stories from here you used to tell me when we were little. It’s really nice to get to be here with you.”

Flashback – your parent’s backyard, many years ago

“I even got to play Marco Polo with my brothers and their friends,” a nine-year-old Joe dramatically exclaimed, his eyes sparkling as he recounted the memorable tales from the lake trip he had just returned from that very morning.

“Really?” you replied, genuinely intrigued, your attention remaining on the detailed designs of your floral coloring book, the colors blending beautifully under your careful strokes.

“Mhm. Can I see the blue when you’re done?” Joe asked, glancing down at his Star Wars coloring book that you had gifted him for his birthday last year, his excitement palpable.

“Yeah,” you responded, handing him the blue pencil with a smile, feeling a sense of camaraderie between you.

“Wanna play a game?” Joe challenged, a small, mischievous smirk playing on his lips. “Let’s race to see who can finish their coloring the quickest. If you win, you get to choose the movie when we head back inside.”

“What do you get if you win?” you replied, curiosity lighting up your features.

“If I win,” Joe paused for dramatic effect, his eyes sparkling with mischief, “I get to kiss you.”

Both of you erupted into laughter, the sound ringing through the air like joyful chimes, and shook on the playful bet in a gesture of sealing the deal. As you focused intently on your coloring, the world outside faded away, leaving only the strokes of crayon against paper.

Joe, ever the competitive spirit, lifted his completed masterpiece high, revealing a perfectly colored R2-D2. “I win,” he declared triumphantly, a teasing grin spreading across his face as he leaned in for a kiss. You squealed in surprise, your heart racing, and jumped up, racing down the steps of your backyard treehouse. Joe was quick to follow, both of you bursting out into fits of laughter, engaging in a game of tag around the backyard.

From the safety of the kitchen, your parents observed the playful scene unfold, exchanging playful quips about the two of you. "Can you imagine what it would be like if they ended up together when they’re older?" Jimmy joked with a chuckle, a twinkle in his eye.

Your moms rolled their eyes, a blend of amusement and exasperation on their faces. “Oh my, my, my, Jim,” Robin sighed, shaking her head with a smile, knowing full well the innocence of childhood crushes.

End of flashback

“Yeah, remember how happy we were when we convinced our parents to let you join us for the first time?” Joe asked with a playful smirk, shaking his head as he started unpacking his suitcase, the sound of the zipper filling the quiet room. You followed him, the scent of his cologne still lingering in the air, and brushed your hand lightly against his arm.

“Oh yeah,” you laughed, a bright smile spreading across your face like sunshine breaking through the clouds. “I think it was the compelling PowerPoint that sealed the deal.”

“Thank god for Mrs. Greene’s computer class,” Joe replied, his playful smile transforming his boyish features and illuminating his entire face. “For many reasons,” he added, referencing the classroom where your relationship had blossomed amidst shared glances and late-night projects.

Something was captivating about the way he looked at you, as if the rest of the world had faded into a soft blur, leaving just the two of you in a gentle embrace. His hands, warm and reassuring, found their way to your hips—a place that felt so familiar. That touch sent delightful shivers through you, igniting a flurry of emotions that danced between tender affection and thrilling excitement.

His eyes met yours, filled with a genuine softness that made everything else fade away. There was no deception, no rushing—just the pure, undeniable warmth of his love, radiating from him in waves, as deep and genuine as the sky was wide. In that moment, it was clear that you meant everything to him.

Just when you thought he was going to lean in for a kiss, he suddenly gripped your waist with a mischievous spark in his eyes and playfully tossed you onto the bed. Laughter spilled out from both of you, ringing through the room like music, as he crawled up to you, a playful glimmer in his eye. He leaned down and began showering your face with gentle, sweet kisses, each one igniting a cascade of giggles that danced between you.

When your lips finally connected, the feeling was nothing short of electric, filled with love and passion. Things quickly heated up as Joe’s kisses trailed down your jaw and onto your neck. “Joey,” you gasped as his lips sucked on your skin.

You ran your fingers through his messy hair, the soft strands brushing against your fingertips. Your other hand traced the solid lines of his back, his body relaxing. His warmth seeped into your touch, sending a wave of heat through you. Gradually, your hands moved lower, lifting the edge of his shirt to reveal the toned muscles beneath. Every inch of him was enchanting, from his chiseled features to the way he made your heart race. These moments—full of connection and desire—were something you’d hold onto, never letting them slip away.

His words brushed against your lips, low and heartfelt. “I’m obsessed with you,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. The simplicity of the statement was overwhelming, layered with a sincerity that made your heart race. It wasn’t just the chemistry between you; it was something deeper, a connection that went beyond physical. You could feel it in the way he looked at you, in the way he held you, in the way he made you feel—as if you were more than just a person to him. You were his safe place, his home.

He tossed your shirt and bra aside, his eyes sparkling with fondness as he admired your bare chest. “So fucking beautiful, baby,” he whispered, sliding his tongue around your hardened nipple, evoking a whimper out of you. He always lost his breath when he saw you like this, no matter how many times he had seen it before. He couldn’t fathom just how gorgeous you were.

“Joe,” you whined, his hands roaming over your curves. Your fingers scratched the skin of his neck as he continued pleasuring you. Each touch was soft and sweet yet filled with passion. Everything felt perfectly in place. Your lips moved together in a beautifully choreographed tango, his hands stayed on your body as if he were glued to you, and the look in both of your eyes voiced so much without a single word.

His lips trailed down to your jaw, peppering kisses down to your belly. His fingers fiddled with the button of your jean shorts, pulling them and your panties down all in one go. His eyes grew darker, looking at your heat glistening with your arousal. “Baby,” you gasped as he kissed your inner thigh, his fingers teasing your slit.

“So wet,” Joe groaned. “You gonna let me taste you?” After a nod of your head, Joe brought two fingers up to your mouth. You swirled your tongue around his large digits, letting them go with a pop. He brought them down to your center, circling your clit with his fingers, wet with your saliva.

You gasped when his fingers entered your cunt, surprised by the sudden intrusion. “Fuck, baby,” you whimpered, his fingers curling in all the right places. He ripped his fingers from your core, provoking a protest from you, but you forgot all about the betrayal when his lips come in contact with your clit, sucking lovingly on the bud. The action makes you jolt, your body coursing with pleasure.

Joe’s grip tightened on your shaking legs, keeping them open as he continued his attack on your center. He was devouring you like a starved man, licking stripes up your core. His name was falling from your lips like a prayer as your hands reached for something, anything, to ground yourself.

Your high hit you like a tidal wave, washing over you over and over again. Joe worked you through it, groaning as you grinded on his face. He separated from you, taking in the look on your face, the post-orgasm glow that you had. Your chest heaved, your eyes were heavy and tired, but you had the biggest grin on your face.

Joe was snapped out of his trance by your hand palming his dick through his pants, earning a groan from him. “You’re gonna be the death of me,” he mumbled, a little breathless. He slipped out of his boxers and shorts, his erect cock springing out. He climbed back on top of you, his lips inches from yours. His hand came up to his chin, swiping off your release. He pushed his fingers into your mouth once more, a smirk pulling at his lips. “See how good you taste?” he asked, you whimpered around his fingers.

“Joey,” you whined as he pulled his fingers from your mouth, your eyes tracing all over his body. “Please fuck me,” you begged, pulling his face down to meet yours in a kiss. He spit in his hand, bringing it down to his erection and pumping himself with it.

Your hands rested on his shoulders as he pushed in inch by inch, filling you up in the most pleasurable way. “Are you okay?” he asked, his eyes soft, pushing a stray hair out of your face. You nodded, biting your lip to stifle a moan. “None of that,” Joe said, setting a steady rhythm. “I want to hear you–hear how good I make you feel.”

You could feel his veiny member slowly sliding in and out of you, hitting that spot so deep inside of you. It was so good, but you needed more. “Faster,” you breathed, pushing his hair out of his face. He groaned, his hips starting to snap harder, faster, not only chasing his own pleasure, but wanting you to reach your peak again.

“You know that you drive me crazy, don’t you?” Joe growled into your ear. His hot breath against your skin, his protective gip on your waist, his cock grazing that spot inside of you—it was so much, but you couldn’t get enough of it.

“J-Joe,” you whimpered as he continued pounding into you. His eyes were trained on your face, watching your reaction to everything. “Right there.”

“You like that?” Joe smirked, grabbing the back of your thigh and draping it around his waist, allowing him to pound even deeper inside of you. “God, you’re squeezing me.”

Your legs began to shake as you felt your climax approaching. “Oh god,” you nearly screamed, your back arching off the bed. Joe pushed you back down, his grip tight on your hip. Your vision blurred, and you couldn’t say or think of anything other than him. “Joe please.. d-don’t… fuck.. stop.”

“I’m not, baby,” his cock twitching inside of you, his high apporaching as well. You soon reached your climax, your walls clenching around him. “T-that’s a good girl,” Joe whimpered, his thrusts erratic as he fell over the edge. He emptied himself inside of you, biting down on your shoulder to stifle his sounds. He collapsed beside you, both of you trying to catch your breath.

“Are you alright?” you asked, a few moments later, rubbing a hand up and down his chest.

“Yeah,” he murmured softly, his lips grazing your hand in a tender kiss. “How about you? Are you good?”

You nodded, a warm smile tugging at your lips as he rose from the bed and headed for the bathroom. The sound of running water filled the quiet room as he soaked a rag in warmth.

He returned with the damp cloth in his hand. He moved toward you with a quiet, gentle grace, his touch was careful as he cleaned you, each movement filled with affection. Afterward, he reached for a fresh pair of panties and one of your favorite hoodies of his—its fabric warm and familiar against your skin.

He joined you back in bed after slipping on a pair of boxers, the cool sheets brushing against his skin as he pulled you in close, wrapping you in the security of his arms. You settled against his chest, feeling the calming beat of his heart.

“Wanna know what movie we should watch?” you asked, glancing up at him with wide, hopeful eyes and a playful pout on your lips. American Pie.

“What the hell, sure,” Joe replied, a warm smile spreading across his face. “We haven’t seen that one in a while, have we?”

He reached for the remote, his fingers scrolling through various streaming services until he found the title. As the movie’s cover appeared on the screen, he chuckled softly. “Wasn’t the first time you watched this when you came up here with me for the first time?”

“Exactly, that’s why I suggested it, baby,” you laughed. The memories of that first visit washed over you, making the moment all the more special.

He chuckled as the movie started, his voice thick with emotion when he whispered into your hair, the warmth of his breath sending a shiver down your spine. “I love you so much,” he murmured, each word wrapping around you like a comforting embrace, making you feel safe and completely at home.

“I love you,” you whispered back, your lips brushing the rough stubble of his jaw. The contrast of his stubble against the softness of the moment made your heart swell. “More than anything.”

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The warm morning sunlight filtered through the kitchen window, casting a golden glow that danced across the walls and illuminated the peaceful lake outside, which glimmered like a scene from a painting. You glanced down at the notecard clutched in your hand, where a single word stood out starkly in the delicate ink—“Joe.”

For nine years, the two of you had woven your lives together, watching each other grow and embarking on countless adventures together. With the wedding just a month away, the thought should have filled you with excitement, but an unsettling void lingered in your mind, leaving you grappling for words. It was pathetic, after all you had been through together, and you couldn’t find a few reasons why you loved Joe.

Turning your head to the side, you spotted Joe walking through the doorway, carrying a takeout bag and two drinks. His smile was warm and easy, radiating so much affection that it felt like the perfect match to the peaceful, blissful morning around you.

“I got your favorite from that place down the street: a bacon, egg, and cheese bagel, along with a latte,” Joe said as he placed the bag and drinks on the table, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Thank you, honey,” you replied with a smile, taking a sip of the latte. The warm beverage made you feel cozy and warm. “How was your run?”

“Same old, same old,” he sighed, glancing at your notecard. “I told you not to worry about that while we’re here.”

“I know you did. I thought I had an idea this morning, but nothing came to me,” you said, heaving a sigh as you handed him his breakfast sandwich.

“Hey, don’t be down on yourself. I know you will write the most amazing vows. You want to know why?”

“Why?” you asked, a smile forming on your face.

“Because I know how much you love me. This wedding isn’t about measuring how much we love each other; it’s about celebrating our love with our loved ones—a love that we will feel for the rest of our lives.”

“You always know what to say, don’t you?” You smiled, pressing a kiss to his lips. Joe had this incredible way of making you feel completely wrapped up in warmth. It was like he had this quiet radar for when you needed reassurance or just a little extra care, and he always made sure you felt valued. For him, love wasn’t about grand gestures or big speeches—it was in the small, everyday things that let you know he was paying attention. With him, it felt like the world could disappear, and it was just you two, wrapped up in your own little world.

“It’s a gift, baby,” Joe smirked, taking a sip of his smoothie.

“Does it feel good outside?” you asked, glancing out the window at the clear, cloudless sky.

“Oh yeah,” Joe said, his smile widening as he nodded. “It’s the perfect temperature. Warm but not too hot, with a breeze that makes it feel amazing.”

“Perfect,” you replied, your smile matching his as you breathed in deeply, letting the friendly, inviting aroma of the breakfast Joe had so lovingly brought fill your senses.

You looked up at him, the warmth from his presence spreading through you. “You really know how to make someone feel special,” you said softly, a smile tugging at your lips. “I don’t know how you do it, but I’m definitely not complaining.”

His eyes softened as he met your gaze, his smile that quiet, content kind of smile. “It’s easy when I’ve got someone like you to spoil.” He winked, his words light but full of affection.

You smiled, feeling something warm flood through you that had nothing to do with the sunlight coming in through the windows. “It’s not just the little things, either. It’s the way you make sure I’m okay, even when I don’t ask.”

Joe’s expression grew tender as he met your gaze, the playfulness fading into something deeper. “It’s because I care. You don’t have to ask me to take care of you. I want to—it’s just who I am when I’m with you.”

Your heart gave a soft flutter at his words, the sincerity wrapping around you like a warm hug. “I can tell,” you said, your voice barely a whisper. “And it means more to me than you’ll ever know.”

He reached over, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face, his touch lingering just a second longer than necessary. “I’m glad you feel that way,” he murmured, his eyes holding so much affection. “Making you feel loved is all that matters to me.”

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“Joe,” you chuckled, your voice light and teasing, “take off those socks. We’re about to dive in.”

“Fine,” he huffed dramatically, sounding like an exasperated toddler as he fumbled through his backpack, yanking off his socks and shoving them in with a pout.

Once you were both ready, the air filled with excitement and the scent of the outdoors, and you made your way down the winding path toward the shimmering lake. The sun bathed everything in a warm, golden glow, and the soft rustle of the breeze wrapped around you, making the moment feel even more perfect as you approached the inviting water.

“Do you want to jump in together?” you asked, eyes sparkling with excitement as you reached for his hand. He gave a playful nod, squeezing your hand in response, his warmth grounding you in the moment.

“Yeah, we’ll jump in on three,” Joe said with a devilish smirk, his lips curling up just enough that you didn’t catch it—your attention was all on the glimmering water ahead.

“Okay, one…” you counted, your voice bubbling with anticipation.

“Two, three!” Joe called out suddenly, a flash of mischief in his eyes. Before you could even process it, he released your hand and playfully shoved you into the cool water, catching you completely off guard.

“Joe!” you shrieked, your voice echoing over the water as you splashed into the lake, surprised and sputtering. As you resurfaced, wiping water from your eyes, you found Joe doubled over on the wooden path, laughter bubbling up from deep in his chest, clearly proud of his unexpected prank.

“You better get in here now,” you said, trying to sound serious, but the playful glint in your eyes gave you away. A moment later, he slipped into the water beside you, the cool liquid enveloping him like a gentle hug.

The water was warm against your skin as it surrounded you both, and Joe leaned back, letting out a satisfied sigh as the tension in his muscles melted away. His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer, while your arms instinctively wrapped around his neck. The soft buoyancy of the water lifted you both, and for a long moment, you floated there, completely at ease, the world outside your little bubble fading into the background. It was just the two of you, enjoying the calm, the quiet, and the effortless closeness.

You rested your head against his chest, the gentle sway of the water adding to the sense of peaceful contentment that wrapped around you both. The sunlight filtered through the trees, casting dappled patterns on the water's surface, and for a moment, it felt like time had slowed, just enough for you to savor the quiet connection between you.

Joe let out a relaxed sigh, his thumb gently tracing circles on your back, the motion soothing. “This is perfect,” he murmured, his voice low and calm, like he was content to stay there forever. “You and me, just... like this.”

You looked up at him, a soft smile curling on your lips. “Yeah,” you agreed, your voice matching the calm of the moment. “Perfect.”

He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for just a second longer than usual, the warmth of the gesture grounding you. You closed your eyes for a moment, simply letting the moment wash over you—the water, his touch, the quiet of the world around you.

After a beat, you pulled back slightly, your eyes meeting his. “So, do I get revenge for the surprise dunk?” you asked, the playful edge creeping back into your voice.

Joe grinned, his eyes lighting up with mischief. “Oh, absolutely. But you’ll have to catch me first.” He winked, his grin widening as he shifted his weight, as if preparing to swim off and escape your potential vengeance.

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re lucky I’m feeling too relaxed to chase you right now,” you said, but the challenge was there, hiding beneath your words.

“Good thing,” Joe said, his voice teasing, “because I’m not sure I’d let you catch me anyway.”

You both floated there a little longer, the quiet banter and the gentle rhythm of the water making everything feel effortless—like you didn’t need to be anywhere else, do anything else, because right here, in this moment, was exactly where you were meant to be.

“I’m really grateful that I got pressured to ask you out all those years ago,” Joe said, his eyes sparkling with honesty. A shy smile tugged at his lips as he continued, “I honestly can’t picture my life without you in it.”

You met his gaze, feeling the warmth of his words sink in, and a wave of affection washed over you. “I feel the same way,” you replied softly, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his cheek.

Joe smiled, his eyes softening as he tilted his head, almost like he was soaking in the moment. “I’m just glad we took the leap,” he said quietly, his voice full of warmth. “It’s like… everything just fell into place after that.”

You leaned into him, resting your head against his shoulder, a small smile playing on your lips. “Definitely. And I’m really glad it’s you that I ended up with,” you murmured, your voice soft but full of meaning.

Joe pulled you in a little closer, his arm around you. “Me too,” he said, his voice steady and warm. “I wouldn’t change a thing.”

You were quiet for a moment, savoring the closeness. Then Joe spoke again, his voice a little more serious. “I’ll never forget how scared I was when I asked you to prom,” he said, his eyes meeting yours with a tenderness that made your heart flutter.

You smiled, remembering how nervous he had been. “I could tell. You seemed a little uneasy that night, but I’m so glad you asked.”

Joe laughed lightly, shaking his head as he ran a hand through his hair. “I didn’t want to mess anything up. I had liked you for so long. So, I just went for it.”

“I’m really glad you did,” you said, the warmth spreading through your chest at the thought of that weekend. “It wasn’t just a question…it felt like a turning point. Like everything just felt right.”

Joe’s eyes softened, and he took your hand, gently brushing his thumb over your skin. “I feel the same way. I was nervous, but once the day came… I knew it was where I was supposed to be.”

You looked at him, feeling the connection between you both. “It’s like I was seeing you for the first time all over again,” Joe said, his smile widening. “I mean, we’ve known each other since we were little, but that moment, when I picked you up that evening... That’s when I saw… my girl.”

Curiosity sparked in your eyes as you leaned in closer. “Tell me about it,” you said softly, your voice warm. “Tell me about the first time you saw me.”

Flashback - Joe’s senior prom

“Deep breaths, Joe, deep breaths,” he reassured himself as he pressed the doorbell at your house, his parents standing beside him. You and Joe, longtime neighbors and best friends, have always joked about going to prom together if there was no one else. That joke was becoming a reality tonight as he waited anxiously for you, a corsage in hand. With another deep breath, he waited for the door to open, revealing your dad.

“Burrows! Come on in. Y/n will be down in a minute. Can I get you anything, Joe? Water? A snack? A nerve pill?”

“No, thank you, sir,” Joe replied, declining the offer. He was just as excited as he was nervous for tonight. Honestly, he never minded the jokes that everyone would make at you. Your dad’s joking about the two of you, growing up and falling in love, or the sly remarks his friends would make about you being his “girlfriend.” He knew he had feelings for you—he established that a long time ago—but how you felt was the real question. This prom was maybe the first step to his confession.

He wanted everything to be perfect. He spent late nights researching ideas for a proposal on Pinterest, even creating a whole board of ideas. He eventually found the perfect idea. He practically sped to the store that night, gathering everything that he needed for the plan.

Since you are two years younger than Joe, you didn’t expect to attend prom this year, even with the ongoing joke about the two of you going together. So much to your surprise, when the doorbell rang as you were studying on your couch one night, the door swung open to reveal Joe, holding a poster and your favorite flowers, looking as cute and nervous as ever. The poster read, “I know football season is over, but I have one more play to run!” Prom?” With play schemes on the word “prom.”

You had liked Joe for a long time, and it felt like everything was finally coming together. You noticed the subtle glances in Mrs. Greene’s class—the way he looked at you and cared for you, perhaps in a way that went beyond just friendship.

“You’re looking sharp, son. I never thought I’d see the day! Are you sure you don’t want that nerve pill? You look like you’re about to pass out.”

Before Joe could respond, the chatter in the room hushed as everyone’s attention shifted to the staircase. You gracefully descended, your heels clicking rhythmically against the polished wood, echoing the anticipation in the air. Clad in a stunning, glittery purple dress that shimmered with every step, you exuded an alluring presence. Joe's lips curled into a warm smile, his eyes wide with admiration as he took in your radiant appearance. “Wow, you look…” he began, momentarily lost for words. “Truly beautiful.”

“You look pretty good, too. Very handsome,” you said with a warm smile, your eyes sparkling.

“Oh, this is for you,” he replied, a bright grin spreading across his face as he gently took your wrist and adorned it with the delicate corsage, its vibrant blooms contrasting beautifully against your skin.

“Alright, let’s go take some pictures,” Robin exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she held her camera. The soft click of the lens drew attention, breaking the tension of the moment. “Can’t have you two dallying and running late, can we?” She flashed a playful grin.

—————————————————————————

Joe stood in the dimly lit corner of the room, sipping on some punch as he watched you dance with your other friends. Your laughter rippled up like a melody, and the biggest smile lit up your face as you belted out the lyrics to Dancing Queen by ABBA, your carefree spirit radiating joy. The vibrant lights pulsed in time with the music, casting playful shadows that highlighted the happiness in your eyes.

Earlier, he had spent most of the night glued to your side, sharing whispers and warm glances, but one of your friends had dragged you away to the dance floor.

“Bro,” Noah, Joe’s teammate and friend, chimed in, pulling Joe’s attention away from the mesmerizing scene. “I thought you asked your girl to be your date?”

“I did,” Joe replied, his tone laced with a hint of frustration.

“Then why the hell are you pouting over here like a lost puppy?” Noah asked, casting a sideways glance at the lively gathering.

Joe let out a long sigh, watching you twirl and laugh with your friends. “I just don’t know how to tell her that I want her to be more than my friend.”

“Joe, man, the time is now,” Noah urged, his voice dropping to a more serious tone. “You’re leaving for Columbus in a few months, so time is running out. You need to tell her now.”

Joe nodded, a sense of urgency stirring within him as the opening notes of Hopelessly Devoted To You by Olivia Newton-John floated through the air, soft and poignant. The song wrapped around his thoughts, igniting a spark of determination within him. He took a deep breath, pushed through the thrumming crowd, and padded across the room, his heart racing.

With a warm, genuine smile illuminating his face, he reached out his hand toward you, his fingers slightly trembling with excitement. His voice was steady, masking the rapid fluttering of his heart within his chest. “Care to join me for a dance?”

“You’re asking me to dance?” you replied, feeling a thrill of surprise.

He chuckled softly, a light twinkle in his eye. “You only live once.” The two of you glided toward the dance floor, the world around you fading away as the music enclosed you in a warm embrace. Your arms looped gently around his neck, fingertips brushing his hair, while his hands settled on your waist, a bold yet exhilarating placement that sent a thrill racing through you. The intimacy of your bodies pressed together ignited a flurry of butterflies in your stomach, a delightful chaos that made your heart race.

As your eyes locked, you couldn't help but be captivated by the depth of his gaze. There was an unmistakable spark in his eyes—adoration mingled with something deeper, something electrifying that sent your pulse quickening. It felt as if the air around you crackled with unspoken tension, and you fought the urge to close the distance that lay between you. In that moment, it was clear: something had shifted, a subtle yet powerful change that filled the space with anticipation—a good different that left you yearning for more.

“You look so beautiful,” Joe whispered in your ear, swaying both of you to the beat of the song. “Let’s get out of here,” Joe said, his eyes crickling as he smiled.

Joe led you out of the venue, his fingers intertwined with yours. You felt like you were sinking, your cheeks pink in the twinkling light of the streetlights. His thumb mindlessly stroked the back of your hand, grounding you. There was only one thought in your mind: ‘I just want to know him better.’

Obviously you knew Joe, knowing him for several years. But you wanted to know him. You wanted to know his favorite way to be kissed, what made him blush, what made him giggle like a little kid.

He opened the car door for you, something that felt so natural yet new. There was a difference in the air; something had changed, perhaps everything had changed. You don’t know how things will turn out, but you do know that all you want is to know his face for the rest of your days.

Joe turned into a random diner parking lot, just before he was about to turn the car off, Hopelessly Devoted To You came on the radio. Again.

“It must be a sign; we’ve heard it twice in 15 minutes,” you joked.

“Baby, I’m hopelessly devoted to you,” Joe said boldly, smirking, inching closer to your face.

“Those are the wrong lyrics,” you laughed, clueless as ever. “And you’re at the wrong part of the-”

He interrupted you with a kiss on your lips. They fit together perfectly, like the missing piece of a puzzle. He pulled away reluctantly, searching your face for a response. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you said, grabbing his face and pulling him in again.

End of flashback

“I love how you remember the smallest details,” you said with a laugh, your fingers lightly gripping Joe’s arm as you both floated lazily in the lake. The sunlight shimmered across the water, casting playful ripples of light that danced around you.

Joe grinned, his eyes full of warmth as they locked onto yours. “How could I not? I remember everything about the love of my life.”

You froze for a moment, your heart skipping a beat as his words sank in. “I’m the love of your life?” you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper as you pulled back slightly, letting the cool water swirl between you.

“Absolutely,” he said without hesitation, his tone steady and full of conviction. He reached for your hand, entwining his fingers with yours. The gesture made the moment feel even more real. “You think I would marry someone that isn’t?”

Everything around you seemed to blur—the lake, the sky, the distant hum of the world. All that remained was the softness in his gaze, the crinkle of his eyes as he smiled, and the way his touch made your chest feel impossibly light.

Your cheeks flushed, and as his fingers tightened around yours, you couldn’t help but feel like you were sinking again—falling deeper into something you couldn’t name but didn’t want to escape.

Joe’s hand remained intertwined with yours, his thumb gently tracing circles on your skin. The warmth of his touch, the steadiness of his gaze, made your chest ache in the best way. You wanted to say something, but the words caught in your throat, tangled up with the flood of emotions you couldn’t quite name yet.

Sensing your hesitation, Joe broke the silence with a soft chuckle. “I probably shouldn’t have just dropped that on you, huh?” His voice was light, teasing, but there was a flicker of nervousness in his eyes.

You smiled, shaking your head. “No… I’m just trying to wrap my head around it. It’s not every day someone calls me the love of their life while I’m floating around in a lake.”

Joe laughed, the sound rich and genuine, and the tension between you seemed to ease. “Well, I like to keep things memorable. Keeps you on your toes.”

You rolled your eyes, but your grin betrayed you. “Well, mission accomplished, Burrow.”

He smiled, his expression softening again as he tugged gently on your hand, pulling you closer. “I mean it, though,” he said, his voice quieter now. “You’ve got this way of making everything feel… right. Even this—just floating around in the middle of nowhere—it feels like the best place in the world because you’re here.”

Your heart flipped at his words, and without thinking, you reached up, brushing a damp strand of hair from his forehead. “You’re so good at this,” you murmured, your voice teasing but laced with sincerity.

“At what?” he asked, tilting his head slightly.

“Making me love you,” you admitted, your cheeks heating at your own boldness.

Joe’s grin widened, and he leaned in closer, his voice low and full of affection. “Good,” he murmured, his forehead resting against yours. “Because I will love you for the rest of my years.”

The water rippled softly around you as the moment stretched, both of you suspended in that perfect, unspoken understanding. It felt like the kind of memory you’d hold onto forever, and as his lips brushed against yours, you knew this wasn’t just a fleeting moment—it was the start of something deeper.

As you both drifted closer, the lake’s soft waves lapping against your skin, the kiss deepened, slow and sweet, like the kind that made the world fall away. Joe’s hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin as if he couldn’t believe this moment was real.

When you finally pulled back, both of you breathless, his eyes stayed locked on yours, full of something unspoken but powerful. The corners of his lips turned up into a smile that made your stomach flip.

“We should probably get out of the water before we turn into prunes,” you teased, breaking the silence, though you made no move to pull away.

Joe smirked, clearly not ready to let the moment end. “Or we could just stay here forever. I think I could get used to this.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart swelled at the sincerity behind his words. “Forever sounds nice, but I’m getting hungry, and I don’t think this lake comes with room service.”

He chuckled, letting go of your hand but wrapping an arm around your waist, guiding you back toward the shore. “Alright, alright, I get it. Let’s dry off and get going. If we wait too long, that restaurant we wanted to try is going to be packed.”

—————————————————————————

A little while later, you were in the bathroom, applying a bit of makeup, when you heard a soft whistle behind you. Turning, you found Joe leaning casually against the doorframe, his eyes sweeping over you with a grin that made your cheeks warm.

“That dress,” he said, his voice low and playful, “might just be my favorite thing you’ve ever worn.”

You laughed, turning back to the mirror to finish your mascara. “You say that about everything I wear.”

“That’s because you always look good,” he shot back without missing a beat, stepping into the room to stand behind you. His hands rested lightly on your hips as he met your eyes in the mirror. “But this one? It’s something else.”

You shook your head, trying to suppress a smile as you finished up. “You’re just saying that because you’re trying to get on my good side.”

He leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to your shoulder, his smile warm. “Nah, I live on your good side.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing softly. “Come on, we’re going to be late if you don’t let me finish.”

Joe backed away with a mock surrender. “Fine, fine. But don’t take too long, or I might have to cancel the reservation just to keep you here.”

You gave him a pointed look, but you couldn’t help the grin tugging at your lips as he disappeared back down the hall, humming to himself. Once he couldn’t see you anymore, you got out the notecard and your pen, the ideas flowing.

“Joe,

I won’t lie; it was challenging to express my love for you on a tiny notecard. For a while, I felt like a bad fiancée, but after some reflection, I realized it wasn’t because I didn’t love you enough; it was because I loved you so much.

I remember the exact moment I fell in love with you. It was at your eighth-grade graduation party, surrounded by all your guy friends, and you were about to play a backyard game of football. Instead of making me feel left out, you included me. You made me your wide receiver, and I even caught the game-winning touchdown, might I add.

We’ve always been a team—just us against the world. Many people questioned our relationship when you moved away for college, but we made it work, just as we always have, even when we were kids.

I knew you were the one for me the moment we confessed our feelings at prom. You were all I needed. This was everything I wanted: your hand in mine, riding in your truck until 2 in the morning. All those times our dads joked about us, the playful comments about being more than friends, the shared hugs and kisses, long-distance phone calls, pre-game pep talks, and so much more have brought us here. I wouldn’t change any of it for the world. A lifetime with you sounds perfect.”

You finished up quickly, smoothing down your dress one last time before stepping out of the bathroom. Joe was waiting by the door, his hands casually tucked into his pockets, but the second he saw you, his whole face lit up.

“Ready?” you asked, grabbing your bag and slipping on your sandals.

Joe opened the door for you, grinning. “I’ve been ready, but if I’m being honest, I wouldn’t mind being late if it meant spending a little more time looking at you like that.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing. “Flattery will only get you so far, Burrow.”

He held out his hand as you walked outside, the warm evening air wrapping around you both. “Oh, I’m not trying to flatter you. I’m just stating the facts,” he teased, his fingers lacing with yours as you started down the driveway.

The restaurant wasn’t far, a retro little spot with string lights draped across the outdoor seating area and the scent of freshly baked bread wafting through the air. You were glad you’d called ahead—people were already waiting outside for a table.

Once seated, the conversation flowed easily, the kind where you lose track of time because everything feels so natural. Between bites of pasta and glasses of wine, Joe leaned across the table with that signature smirk.

“You know,” he said, twirling his fork through his plate, “this is one of those nights I’m going to remember. Just us, good food, good vibes.”

You raised an eyebrow, sipping your wine. “You’re sentimental tonight. Should I be worried?”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Not worried. Just… appreciate it. Sometimes it’s easy to get caught up in everything else and forget how good it feels to just be present, you know?”

Your chest warmed at his words, and you reached across the table to take his hand. “I know what you mean. This is perfect.”

He squeezed your hand, his smile softening. “Yeah, it really is.”

The rest of the night passed in a blur of laughter and lingering glances. By the time you walked back to the place under a sky full of stars, you couldn’t help but feel like everything was exactly where it was supposed to be.

As you reached the doorstep, the cool night air seemed to settle around you, wrapping the evening in a quiet stillness. Joe unlocked the door but paused, turning to you before stepping inside.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice carrying a weight that caught your attention.

“Yeah?” you asked, tilting your head as you met his gaze.

He hesitated, almost as if he were searching for the right words. Then, with a smile that was equal parts shy and confident, he said, “I just want to thank you. For yesterday, for tonight, for tomorrow… for making everything feel easy.”

Your heart swelled at the sincerity in his tone, and you couldn’t help but smile back. “I could say the same to you,” you replied, stepping closer. “This… us—it feels right.”

Joe nodded, his eyes holding yours in a way that made the world around you blur. “It does. It always has.”

He looked down at the ground, a warm smile tugging at his lips. “You know, I can see it—years from now, sitting on the back porch. We’d be what, 87 and 89? Watching our grandkids run around, maybe playing chicken in the lake or just laughing like crazy. Our kids would be there too, with their partners, everyone just… happy. Making memories in this place, the way we’ve started to.”

His voice softened, and for a moment, the image he painted hung in the air between you, so vivid it felt almost tangible. The rustling leaves filled the silence, a gentle accompaniment to the quiet intimacy of the moment.

Then, as if unable to resist the pull, Joe leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. It was a tender gesture, grounding you in the here and now even as his words lingered like a promise.

“Come on,” he murmured, stepping back just enough to open the door for you, a teasing smirk dancing on his lips. “Let’s head in before I keep you out here forever. Though, I’ve been dying to see you out of that dress.”

Your laughter bubbled up, light and effortless, cutting through the still night air. “Forever doesn’t sound so bad,” you quipped, brushing past him into the house, his playful words lingering in the space between you.

“It better not. That pretty ring on your finger symbolizes forever, baby,” Joe chuckled. As the door clicked shut behind you, the outside world melted away, leaving only the cozy warmth of the moment. His hands grabbed your waist and backed you up against the wall, his lips attacking your neck. The warmth of his presence wrapped around you like a favorite sweater, grounding you in something that felt utterly right. Whatever tomorrow held, one thing was certain—you would always look at him, like the stars aligned in the sky.

—————————————————————————

#this was too cute #i’m screaming #joe burrow x reader #burrowdarling recs

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burrowdarling · 5 months ago

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could u write joe burrow and a young gf :3

ouuuu i lowkey love this!!! i forget joe is literally almost 30 sometimes cause he's been my baby since 2020 :(

The thing about loving Joe Burrow is that it never quite feels real.

Not in the way people would assume—Oh my God, you’re dating Joe Burrow—but in the quieter, trickier ways. Like how surreal it is to be brushing your teeth while he’s flopped across the bed scrolling through film, mumbling something about coverages.

Or how it feels when his name echoes from TV screens and sports talk shows, but the same voice that commands huddles and stadiums turns soft when he asks, “You good, babe?” after long days.

It started somewhere simple. It always does.

Before all the noise, before the headlines, before the whispers about her being too young or him settling down so soon. You were just you, balancing college classes and internships, while he was—well, Joe Burrow. Quarterback. Face of a franchise. The golden boy with ice in his veins and Ohio stitched into his heart.

The age thing? People love to talk.

"She's barely legal," Twitter said. "He's almost thirty—what could they possibly have in common?"

But nobody saw late nights where he quizzed you for exams between reps of watching film. No one heard him tease you about your Starbucks order or watched the way his whole face softened when you walked into a room.

You weren’t high school sweethearts or some college love story. You met after his star had already risen. He was 26 then, fresh off another playoff run. You were 20, still figuring out your major and how to parallel park. It wasn’t supposed to be anything. But somehow, between weekend flights to Cincinnati, cheap takeout, and late-night phone calls that stretched till sunrise, it became everything.

Now?

Now, he’s 28. And you’re counting down the weeks until your 22nd birthday.

It’s different now. The stakes are higher. His window is now, and yours is still unfolding. People don’t get that. They think he should be with someone who has it all figured out. Someone closer to his stage in life. But Joe? Joe never seemed interested in the version of you that had all the answers.

He likes you exactly as you are.

And maybe that’s what makes this all so dangerous. Because you love him like you have all the time in the world. But what if you don’t?

What if time, distance, and expectations catch up?

The thing about loving Joe Burrow is that it never feels real.

And maybe that’s what scares you the most.

It started in the most unremarkable way, which, in hindsight, made it all the more impossible.

You weren’t supposed to be there that night.

It was late spring—warm air clinging to skin, cicadas humming like background noise. A friend dragged you out, promising “something low-key” that turned out to be anything but. A rooftop bar downtown, lights strung across beams, music low enough for conversation but loud enough to fill silences. The kind of place where everyone seemed to know someone.

You felt out of place almost immediately—twenty, still figuring things out, surrounded by people who seemed to have their lives together. People with jobs, plans, confidence. You clutched your drink like a lifeline, nodding along to conversations you weren’t part of.

And then—him.

Joe Burrow.

You knew of him, obviously. Everyone did. The city’s golden boy. LSU’s champion turned Cincinnati’s hope. The one with the calm stare and colder game. But seeing him there, in a soft gray hoodie and jeans that looked too casual for someone like him, was jarring.

He wasn’t surrounded by a crowd like you expected. No loud entourage, no flashy bravado. Just him, leaning against the railing, a glass of something in his hand, looking out at the skyline like he wasn’t the biggest deal in the room.

You tried not to stare. Failed miserably.

And he caught you.

But here’s the thing—you looked away first. You didn’t smile or wave or give him that Oh my God, it’s Joe Burrow look he was probably used to. You just turned back to your group, back to your half-finished drink, back to your uncomfortable corner.

But he noticed.

It wasn’t supposed to mean anything. Just a glance. A flicker of interest, easily forgotten. But when you shifted places an hour later, needing air and space, there he was—somehow always there. Close enough to talk to, if you were brave enough.

You weren’t.

He was.

"Not your scene?"

His voice caught you off guard—low, almost shy. He wasn’t cocky about it, didn’t lead with who he was. Just a simple question. You glanced over, squinting against the fading light.

"Not really," you admitted, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Yours?"

He shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips.

"Not really."

And that was it. A conversation that began with mutual disinterest in the place you both stood.

No cheesy pickup lines. No starstruck reactions. Just two people, sharing a quiet pocket of space in a loud world.

It started slow after that.

Joe wasn’t the type to rush things. He didn’t blow up your phone the next day. There were no grand gestures. Just texts that came at odd hours—memes, random thoughts, “this reminded me of you” photos. Late-night conversations that started light and ended heavy.

"What do you wanna do after school?" "Not sure yet. Still figuring it out." "That’s cool. You got time."

And he meant it.

He liked listening. That was the first thing you noticed. Everyone assumed he’d be the one with stories to tell, but Joe preferred hearing yours. He wanted to know about your classes, your friends, your opinions on movies you half-watched.

He didn’t treat you like you were younger. He didn’t make you feel like you had something to prove.

And maybe that’s why you fell for him first.

Not that you said it. Not for a while.

You didn’t know it, but Joe liked that you didn’t treat him like Joe Burrow. You talked to him like he was just a guy—messy, complicated, figuring things out. And he wanted that.

For months, things stayed undefined. Texts. Calls. Occasional meetups when he was in the neighborhood. You told yourself it wasn’t serious. Couldn’t be. He had an NFL career; you had classes and part-time jobs.

But then came that night.

It was after a tough loss—one of those games where the city buzzed with disappointment. You shot him a simple text: “Tough one. Hope you’re good.”

Didn’t expect a reply. But he did.

"Come over?"

It wasn’t a question. And when you showed up, hair still damp from a rushed shower, no makeup, heart racing—he looked at you like you were the best thing he’d seen all week.

"You’re here," he said softly, like he didn’t quite believe it.

"Of course I am."

That night, there were no cameras, no expectations. Just Joe—quiet, vulnerable—and you, sitting beside him on a worn-out couch.

He kissed you first.

Soft, tentative, like he wasn’t sure if he should. Like he was giving you the chance to pull away. But you didn’t.

You never wanted to.

So how have you lasted this long?

Patience.

It wasn’t always easy. The age gap made things complicated. He was settling into his prime years—face of a franchise, pressure mounting. You were still growing, still becoming.

But Joe never expected you to catch up. He let you take your time. He liked that you weren’t rushing.

You learned his rhythms—when he needed space, when he needed reassurance. He learned your moods—when you were overwhelmed, when you needed grounding.

You made room for each other.

Not because it was easy. But because it mattered.

And somehow, almost two years later, here you still are.

Joe’s turning 28. You’re on the edge of 22.

Everyone still talks. But neither of you have ever cared much about what they say.

The apartment was quiet in that late-afternoon, honey-gold kind of way. The kind of light that stretched long shadows across hardwood floors and made everything feel softer, slower. The game was on mute—highlights from last week’s win looping on ESPN—while you sat cross-legged on the couch, flipping through your laptop.

Joe was in the kitchen, barefoot, wearing a faded Ohio State tee and gray sweatpants that hung low on his hips. His hair was still damp from a shower, curling slightly at the edges. He moved with that same unhurried calm he always had off the field, focused on slicing up an apple with alarming precision for someone who could launch a 60-yard pass without blinking.

"You want some?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder.

"No thanks," you mumbled, eyes still on the screen.

"Liar," he said, grinning. "You’re gonna steal a piece anyway."

He wasn’t wrong.

Joe crossed the room, dropping onto the couch beside you with a quiet oof. The plate balanced on his knee, and sure enough, when he popped a slice into his mouth, he held another out for you without looking.

"Told you," he muttered around a bite.

"Whatever," you said, accepting it anyway.

This was what you two were like—easy.

No big gestures or loud declarations. Just knowing. He knew you’d take the apple slice even when you said you wouldn’t. You knew he’d watch you more than the TV. The spaces between you were always filled with things left unsaid but understood.

"Whatcha working on?" he asked after a moment, nodding toward your laptop.

"Paper. Boring. You wouldn’t care."

"I always care," he said, leaning back. His arm stretched along the back of the couch, fingers brushing your shoulder lightly. "Tell me."

You gave him a look, skeptical.

"You literally fell asleep last time I explained this class to you."

"Nah," he grinned, slow and lazy. "Just resting my eyes. You were doing great."

"Uh-huh."

Joe bumped your knee with his. "Tell me."

So you did. Stumbling through half-formed thoughts about your topic, tapping at the trackpad, rambling. You knew you were probably losing him—this wasn’t exactly thrilling stuff—but Joe kept his gaze steady on you. Not nodding along just to be polite. Actually listening.

That’s what always got you. He listened.

Even when he didn’t get it, even when he was tired or distracted—he paid attention because it was you.

When you finally trailed off with a shrug, mumbling, "See? Boring," Joe shook his head.

"Nah," he said. "You sound smart when you talk about stuff you like."

You rolled your eyes, but your cheeks warmed.

"I always sound smart," you shot back.

"Yeah," he said, grinning wider. "But especially when you’re like this. Focused. All serious."

He reached over, tugging gently at the sleeve of your sweatshirt. "Cute, too."

"Shut up."

"Make me."

You shoved him, and he laughed, warm and low, catching your wrist with a loose grip. Not tight—never tight—just enough to pull you closer until you were half in his lap.

"Say it again," you teased, narrowing your eyes. "Say I sound smart."

Joe’s eyes sparkled with something playful, something soft.

"You sound smart," he murmured, voice dropping.

His thumb brushed slow circles against the inside of your wrist. His gaze flicked down to your mouth, then back up.

"And cute," he added, softer this time.

Your breath hitched, and suddenly the space between you wasn’t so wide anymore.

Joe always did that—brought things back to the quiet. He had this way of looking at you like you were the only thing in the room. Like all the noise—fans, games, expectations—didn’t matter. Just you.

"You gonna kiss me or keep talking?" you whispered.

He didn’t smile this time. Just leaned in, closing the gap, slow and sure.

The kiss wasn’t hurried. It wasn’t some movie-scene, fireworks kind of thing. It was steady. Familiar. Warm. The kind of kiss that said, I know you. I’ve got you.

When you pulled back, his forehead rested against yours. Neither of you said anything for a beat.

Then—

"Told you I’d make you forget about that boring paper."

"You’re the worst."

"Mm. But you love me."

"Unfortunately."

He grinned. "Lucky me."

And that was it. That was you two.

Not always perfect. Not always poetic. But steady.

Because at the end of the day, loving Joe Burrow wasn’t about the headlines or the spotlight. It was this—apples shared on a quiet afternoon, lazy kisses between conversations, and the unshakable certainty that when the world got loud again, you’d both still be right here.

#oh my god I love this #burrowdarling recs

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