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urdreamgirls-dreamgirl · 3 months ago

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part one

“so how was your first day?” robin asks steve as he slides onto the barstool next to her and chrissy.

“it actually wasn’t that bad,” steve shrugs before taking a long pull from the freshly opened bottle the bartender slides his way.

“it wasn’t that bad?” chrissy asks, incredulous. “so he didn’t make you go to the erewhon all the way across town? the one he goes to because selena gomez was seen there once?”

“that’s why he made me go there?”

“yeah, he really likes that one movie she’s in.”

steve thinks for a moment. “the dead don’t die?”

“no, the one with the dancing,” chrissy snorts.

steve makes a face and then shrugs again. “i made him his breakfast, i drove him around, i organized his tshirt closet… pretty standard stuff for an assistant.”

“you organized his tshirt closet? what the fuck does that even mean?” robin asks, laughing.

“exactly what it sounds like,” steve grins at her. “anyway, really, it wasn’t that bad. sure, he’s insufferable but not anything i couldn’t handle. don’t worry about it.”

“well, thanks for doing this,” chrissy says. “vickie handled it for a while, but i guess once you’ve been fired twelve times in the course of six months, you have to draw a boundary with the thirteenth.”

“it’s really not a big deal, it’s not like i’m doing it for free,” steve responds. “the money is more than worth it.”

“still, i know how he can be. but he’s really not so bad. once he’s… comfortable.” chrissy frowns.

“whatever,” steve shrugs for a third time. “i’m just here for the cash.” he winks and gives her a reassuring smile.

~*~

the next morning, steve pulls up to eddie’s huge beverly hills mansion bright and early, just as he had yesterday. he punches in the gate code, waves to the security guy on duty, and makes his way inside to the kitchen.

eddie storms in while steve is halfway through cooking another omelette, this time with tomatoes and onions and freshly grated cheddar cheese.

“i don’t care, wheeler, i’m not making a fucking appearance and i’m definitely not doing it with him,” eddie snarls into the phone pressed to his face. he hasn’t seemed to notice that steve’s in his house again.

eddie waits for whoever it is on the phone to speak before he says, “well maybe i don’t want to fix it. maybe this is it,” and then hangs up the phone. he lets out a frustrated little scream before he turns to leave the kitchen, finally noticing steve by the stove. “you’re back,” he says, voice monotone.

“i’m back,” steve smiles, sliding the plate full of food across the large island toward him. eddie looks down at it like he’s surprised. “eat,” steve tells him.

“another sweater vest?” eddie sneers instead of picking up his fork.

“i like them,” steve shrugs, still smiling.

eddie rolls his eyes. “whatever,” he mutters and then picks up the plate and retreats from the kitchen.

~*~

eddie is deeply annoyed by how good steve’s omelettes are. he practically licks the plate clean when he’s finished, which only serves to make his bad mood worse.

“can i take your plate?” steve asks from the doorway of the living room.

“jesus christ, man, wear a fucking bell,” eddie grumbles before holding out the plate, forcing steve to walk across the room to the couch and take it from him.

“i’ll remember to announce myself from now on,” steve replies. “chrissy just called; you have another meeting with the pr team this afternoon. we’ll leave here in about an hour.”

eddie doesn’t respond and steve goes quietly back to the kitchen.

~*~

eddie tries to confuse steve with the directions to nancy’s office again, mostly just to annoy him since the car has a built in gps. steve ignores eddie, leaving him to play on his phone in the back seat. the windows are tinted dark, just how eddie likes it & it lulls him into a false sense of security to where he’s almost relaxed by the time they get to nancy’s office.

the meeting is a fucking drag. it’s just a rehashing of the morning’s phone call and eddie had already made himself perfectly clear. he’s not willing to fix anything. nancy and chrissy try to double-team him, begging him to think about the tour & the album roll-out & the rest of the band. the entertainment blogs are running wild with the rumors circulating about the other night and now they’re digging up shit that he wishes would stay buried.

“absolutely fucking not,” eddie spits out. “i refuse to be fucking cordial with that moron.”

“fine,” nancy says finally. “i guess we’re done here then.” she gets up from the head of the conference room table and leaves through the big glass doors and the rest of her team takes that as their cue to leave, too.

chrissy levels him with a look, waiting until the last intern has left the room before speaking.

“eddie, i know you’re pissed right now. trust me, i would be too,” she says, using that tone eddie always hates—the one that makes it sound like she’s trying to placate a rabid dog. “but the label has invested a lot of money into you and they need you to put in some work right now. take a minute, take a breath, and then we’ll talk again. but we need to respond; we can figure out what that looks like. i’ll talk to nance… maybe we don’t need a joint appearance. maybe you can just make a statement.”

eddie knows there are a ton of people relying on this tour & this upcoming album. he knows the band doesn’t deserve the hit from this. but what is there to even say? he’s just so fucking angry about it.

“fine. i’ll make an appearance. but i won’t, under any circumstances, be seen with him,” eddie tells her firmly. he slides his sunglasses back onto his face before pushing himself out of his chair and making his way over to the door. “just tell me when and where. and make sure nancy doesn’t make me sound like a fucking idiot.”

“great,” chrissy smiles so bright she looks like a teenager again. “i’ll talk to nancy. we’ll figure it out.”

any reassurance eddie feels is washed away by a renewed sense of annoyance when he sees steve waiting for him in the lobby, still wearing his pastel yellow sweater vest, drinking a purple smoothie from a straw and scrolling on his phone. he’s laughing at something on the screen and the sunlight comes through the huge front windows just right, making him glow golden, and eddie just feels something inside him twist unpleasantly.

steve looks up then to see eddie coming, but eddie breezes past him to the sidewalk. steve jumps up to follow, handing the valet their ticket. when the car finally pulls up, eddie says, “no liquids in the car,” before sliding into the back seat.

he sees steve shrug before smiling at the valet and handing him his half empty smoothie to dispose of and a tip.

the car ride home is silent. eddie practically leaps from the car before it’s even come to a stop when they pull into the driveway. there are packages on the table in the foyer, likely brought in by the security guy at the gate. “grab those,” eddie tells steve with a wave of his hand.

steve follows eddie into the kitchen, arms laden with paper bags and boxes. most of it, eddie knows, is free product and merch, stuff he never uses and mostly stuff he doesn’t even want. steve places the packages on the counter and watches as eddie sifts through them, clearly looking for something.

“do you want lunch?” steve asks. eddie ignores him, finally finding the package he’d ordered earlier today. he flings it across the kitchen island toward steve on the other side.

steve catches the package in his hands and arches an eyebrow.

“open it,” eddie tells him, nodding at paper wrapping. he opens the fridge to pull out a bottle of water and takes a long sip as he watches steve’s fingers tear at the brown paper.

once the package is open, steve huffs out a laugh, barely a breath, before holding up a bright pink cat collar with a tiny bell attached. he shakes it in the air, making the bell tinkle. the collar clearly will not fit him.

“fuck you, man,” steve says, still smiling.

“fuck you, too,” eddie says.

and then he leaves the kitchen.

part three

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #steddie fanfic #eddie munson #steddie fanfiction #steddie blurb #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie drabble #pre steddie #rockstar eddie munson #personal assistant steve harrington #part two

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v6quewrlds · 3 months ago

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DOCTOR'S ORDERS, JOE BURROW.

pairing⠀⁎⠀joe burrow x doctor!reader. word count⠀⁎⠀9.6k.

summary⠀⁎⠀between petty fights and an abnormal level of clinginess, you're at your wit's end with joe's recent behavior. who would've known that ja'marr could crack the code before you?

author's note⠀⁎⠀combined a couple of different requests into one. collection of scenes more than a real plot? struggled with the smut so pls forgive me if it sucks. i have zero medical training, pls don't yell at me. warnings⠀⁎⠀18+ mdni, established relationship, married couple fights, one (1) communism joke, joe can't shut up when he's in love syndrome, teasing, fingering, oral (fem receiving), joey talks you through it <3

Slumped shoulders and tired sighs filled the still air of their Cincinnati home as you and Joe crossed the threshold just ten minutes apart. Words remained limited to the necessary as you greeted each other for the first time that evening, the clock hanging over the front door reading 6:45 PM. The crisp smell of antiseptic and hand sanitizer mingled with the lingering scent of Joe's familiar deodorant and cologne.

You padded down the hallway to your room, heels in hand, eager to shed your work clothes and scrub the clinical office off your skin. You hadn't seen Joe in what felt like days, your paths only crossing at night, a brief intermission in your chaotic schedules. Between your patients and his training, the time you had together was a blur of tired half-sentences and fleeting kisses.

Mindlessly, you stripped out of your white coat and knee-length dress, tossing them onto the chair by the door. The sound of the fabric hitting the wood was a welcome release of the day's tension. You stepped into the bathroom and turned the shower knob, letting the water heat up. You heard Joe's footsteps approaching, the soft thud of his sock-covered feet entering your bedroom.

You lathered away at your brown skin, softly humming a tune that had been stuck in your head all day. The warm water cascaded over you, the steam wrapping around you in a comforting embrace. Suddenly, the bathroom door creaked open, and Joe's large frame filled the doorway. You paid him no attention, assuming he was just checking in before heading back to the bedroom to answer some emails, settle into bed, and mentally prepare himself for his media obligations tomorrow afternoon.

To your surprise, Joe didn't retreat. He stepped closer to the shower, his blue eyes squinting at you through the foggy glass, a deep sigh escaping his lips. "I need a shower too, babe. Can you hurry?" he said, his voice tinged with annoyance.

You rolled your eyes, holding back before answering him. "I had a full schedule today," you retorted, your voice echoing off the tiles. "You got home before me. Did you not get one in at the facility?"

Joe leaned against the sink, his arms crossed over his broad chest. "No, I wanted to shower at home." He tried to play it cool, but the hint of irritation in his voice was unmistakable. It was one of his rare flaws, the inability to hide his emotions when it came to inconveniences.

You reached for your exfoliating sponge, the sweet scent of your body scrub filling the small space. "Baby," you began, your voice firm yet tired. "I'm almost done. You could've used one of the other bathrooms."

Joe's sigh grew heavier, the frustration in his eyes evident. "It's not the same, all my stuff is in here," he said, his voice tight. "Why are you taking so long? Just hurry up."

You couldn't help but feel a spark of annoyance flicker within you. You had been looking forward to this shower, the one thing you could control after a long day of treating patients and navigating the chaos of your new practice. "Joe, I’ve been seeing patients all day. Can't you wait five more minutes?" you snapped, your voice bouncing off the shower walls.

He stepped closer, his expression unyielding. "Five minutes turns into ten, turns into twenty," he said, his voice flat. "I'm exhausted, babe. I just want to get clean."

You felt a twinge of guilt, but you stood your ground. "I've been looking forward to this shower all day," you said, your voice a mix of frustration and weariness. "You could've just told me you needed to get in first."

Joe grumbled something unintelligible under his breath, pacing for a minute before yanking off his clothes. You felt the cooler air of the bathroom flood the shower before you realized what he was doing. You squealed as Joe stepped in behind you, large hands reaching for your shampoo as if disregarding your personal space.

"Joey," you whined, your pout deepening as the shower suddenly felt much smaller. "What are you doing?"

He shrugged, ignoring the tone of your voice to deliver a straightforward answer. "What does it look like? We're sharing."

The initial shock gave way to a playful scoff from you as you turned to face him, your eyes glinting with amusement despite your earlier irritation. "You're serious?"

Joe nodded, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips as he squeezed past you to stand under the water. "Deadly," he said, "If you’re good, I might even scrub your back for you."

You rolled your eyes, gently nudging him away from the direct shower of the steamy water. "You can’t hijack my shower, Joe. That’s not how this works," you said with a huff.

Joe chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he stepped closer to you, the water now spraying you both. "I'm not hijacking, I'm sharing," he said, his hands reaching for your very expensive, tropical-scented shampoo, squeezing a generous amount into his large, open palm. "Like we learned in preschool?"

You didn't respond, choosing instead to focus on scrubbing your extended arms. You felt Joe's amused chuckle reverberate through his chest as he lathered his hair, the suds cascading over his shoulders and down his torso.

Sensing your irritation, Joe reached over you to nudge the temperature valve. The once warm embrace of water turned frigid, causing you to jump and shriek. "Joseph!" you yelped, trying to avoid the icy spray. You took a step back, your back meeting the solid wall of Joe's broad chest as he rinsed the shampoo out of his hair, the water temperature now to his liking.

"Perfect," he murmured, his voice thick with feigned innocence. "Just how I like it." He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer as the cold water continued to assault your skin. You squirmed in his grasp, the shock of the cold water fading into a laugh as you realized the futility of fighting him on this.

"Joe," you squealed, your laughter mixing with the sound of the water, "turn it back!" Your attempts to escape his grip only made you laugh harder as he held you firmly, his deep laughter vibrating against your back. You attempted to get a hand on the valve but your movement was cut short by Joe's larger hand gently swatting yours away.

"Come on, it's good for your skin," his deep voice rumbled in your ear. You shivered and tried to push him away, but he was too strong. The cold water continued to pummel them, and you felt your body tighten with the shock of it. "You should know better, doc," he quipped, his breath warm against your neck.

Your tense laughter subsided into a whine. "Joey, please," you begged, your teeth chattering slightly. "It's too cold. You're ruining my shower."

"Your shower?" Joe echoed, his tone incredulous. "This is our shower now."

You couldn't help but laugh despite yourself, the absurdity of the situation bringing a smile to your lips. You leaned back into him, your body beginning to warm again as the chill dissipated. His arms tightened around you as the water washed away the last of the soap. The two of you stood in silence for a moment, the sound of the water the only thing breaking up the quiet.

"Alright, Comrade Burrow, let go of me," you said, your voice filled with mock irritation. Joe's arms loosened, allowing you to twist the valve back to a warmer temperature. The lukewarm water washed over you, and you turned to face him, your eyes dancing with playful anger.

"That's strike two," you muttered, a hand settling against his jaw as you pulled him down for a chaste kiss, leaving his skin tingling with a bite at his pink bottom lip.

Joe raised an eyebrow, chasing your lips as you pulled away and turned back around. "Strike two?"

You nodded, your eyes still closed, as you enjoyed the warm water cascading over you. "First, you try to bully me out of my shower, then you try to freeze me to death. You're on thin ice, babe."

Joe leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. "I'll warm you right up," he whispered, his hands skimming over your wet body.

"That's strike three, I'm leaving." You giggled, pushing Joe's hands away with a gentle smack. You stepped out of the shower, your skin glistening with water droplets. Joe stepped aside, the playfulness in his eyes never fading as he watched you wrap a towel around yourself. You grabbed another for him, tossing it onto the vanity counter before exiting the bathroom.

Joe stepped out behind you, long limbs leaving a puddle on the gray mat beneath his feet. He wrapped the towel around his waist, his skin still slightly red from the cold water. "You're cute when you're mad," he said, his voice teasing.

You rolled your eyes, the corners of your mouth twitching with a smile you couldn't hold back. "I'm not mad," you replied, walking over to your side of the sink to start your nightly skincare routine. "Just disappointed."

Joe stepped closer to you, the warmth of his body contrasting the coolness of the bathroom air. He wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, his chin resting on your shoulder as he peered at your reflection in the mirror. "How can you be disappointed with this?" he asked, his voice playful as he gestured to your reflection.

Your hand paused mid toner application, and you couldn't help but smile. "It's the principle," you said, turning your attention back to your routine. You felt Joe's warm breath against your neck as he leaned closer, his arms tightening around your waist.

"Well, the principle is that we both needed showers, and we're both tired," Joe said, his voice dropping to a more serious tone. "Let's just get ready for bed before we start arguing over stupid shit again."

You took a deep breath, feeling the tension in your shoulders ease slightly. You finished your skincare routine, your movements precise and methodical, while Joe brushed his teeth with a hint of minty toothpaste wafting through the air. Joe finished drying off, forgoing a trip to his closet for a pair of sweatpants, and simply heading off to bed.

You set off for the closet, swapping your towel for Joe's raggedy Athens Bulldogs long-sleeve and a pair of his boxers. The fabric of his shirt was well-worn and smelled faintly of his scent. You couldn't help the shy flutter of your heart as you emerged to find him sprawled out underneath your sheets, taking up a good deal of space. The room was dimly lit by the bedside lamp, casting a soft glow over Joe's muscular form. His bare chest peeked out from beneath the line of the sheets covering his lower half. He held his phone in one hand, the other arm bent behind his head as he scrolled through his notifications with a trademark unimpressed expression.

You approached the bed, sliding under the covers with a dramatic sigh, your body heat immediately melding with his. As if second nature, Joe's arm curled around your waist, his free hand coming to rest on your lower back, your head finding its usual spot on his firm chest. The two of you lay there in silence for a few moments, the only sound being the soft rustling of the sheets and the occasional buzz of his phone. Your eyes drifted shut, the warmth and safety of Joe's arms around you acting as a sedative after a grueling day.

"Love you," he hummed, placing his phone on the nightstand before switching the bedside lamp off. The sudden darkness enveloped them, and you felt Joe's chest rise and fall as he took a deep breath. You knew he was waiting for your response, but you remained silent, fighting off the twitch of a smirk.

He nudged you, a hint of urgency in his voice, "You gonna say it back?"

You pretended to be asleep, your body relaxed and limp against him, enjoying the quiet after the shower squabble. You felt his grip on you tighten slightly, a silent protest to your silence. With a dramatic sigh, you opened your eyes and propped yourself up on your elbow, the moonlight from your bedroom window highlighting the mischief in your gaze. "You really expect me to after you ruined my relaxing evening?"

Joe rolled his eyes, but the tension in his body dissipated as he couldn't help but smile at your feigned indignation. "I love you," he repeated, his voice softer this time.

You leaned in, your fingertips tracing his strong jaw as you whispered, "I love you too," before leaning in to kiss him softly. Your kiss held the promise of warmth and comfort, a silent apology for your earlier squabble. As you parted, Joe's eyes searched yours in the dim light, looking for any lingering traces of irritation. Finding none, his features softened, and he pulled you closer, soothing the two of you into your familiar embrace. His hand moved from your ass to your lower back, rubbing in slow, comforting circles as you slipped into slumber.

Your schedules left little time for cuddly nights like those as the season pushed forward. Between your full work weeks and Joe's demanding training and game days, your time together had melted into an afterthought. The occasional dinner date had turned into a rare luxury, and your once-nightly pillow talks had been replaced by quiet grumbling about who forgot to take out the trash or who left their keys scattered around the house.

The world only seemed to grace you with a few fleeting moments on Sundays when the Bengals played at home. Though you wouldn't see Joe until after the game, sharing him with his parents for a few hours before you all retired to bed, you always looked forward to Sunday evenings. It was the one day you could count on for a decent stretch of time together. This weekend, however, had been particularly testy on both your nerves.

Joe's parents, Robin and Jimmy, were staying over before making the trip back home the following morning. You and Robin fluttered between the living room and the kitchen, chatting about the game as you prepared dinner together. Jimmy sat in his designated Lazyboy, nodding along to your conversation, occasionally throwing in a comment about in his southern cadence so similar to Joe's. The house was filled with the comforting scent of dinner cooking and the first pumpkin pie of the fall baking.

You could feel your nerves frazzle every time you came within Joe's grasp. His constant touches, though affectionate, felt suffocating today. You needed space, but he seemed to need you more than ever. Each time he grabbed you, you'd give him a look that was half-playful, half-exasperated, but he remained oblivious, his attention not quite turning away from the conversations at hand.

Finally, Robin spoke up, her voice carrying a hint of teasing. "Joey, let the poor girl breathe," she said, gaining a chuckle from Jimmy.

Joe looked up, eyebrows furrowing in confusion at his mother's words. "What do you mean?" he asked, adjusting his grip on your waist as he pulled you closer to his chest protectively.

You couldn't hold back your laugh. "Sweetheart," you said, your voice light with affection. "You're smothering me today."

Joe met your eye, jaw set with tension. "I just want to spend time with you," he murmured, his voice thick with a hint of defensiveness. His hand remained firmly on your waist, his thumb idly tracing circles against the fabric of your crewneck.

Your smile softened, and your eyes searched his. You knew he was just feeling the weight of your different lives. "I know," you said gently. "But you're being a little clingy."

Robin looked up from the salad she was tossing, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "It's okay to let her go, Joey," she said. "You guys need to learn to live without each other a little."

You shot her a grateful look, which Joe returned with a glower. "You're one to talk," he said, his voice tight. "You and Dad have been joined at the hip for what, thirty years?"

Robin chuckled, setting the salad bowl down on the kitchen island. "That's different," she said, waving a hand dismissively. "You two are still in the 'can't keep your hands to yourselves' phase of being together. It's adorable, really."

Jimmy coughed out a laugh, his eyes twinkling with mirth. "Your mother's right," he said, his gaze flicking from you to Joe. "You're both young, and busy. If you're serious about staying together, you need to find a balance of affection that works."

Joe's grip tightened, and you felt the beginnings of a petty protest brewing. "I just want to spend time with you," he grumbled into your ear, his voice a mix of annoyance and longing. "Barely see each other these days."

"I know, babe," you said, placing a reassuring hand on his forearm. "Just give me a few minutes to breathe, okay?" You gave him a warm smile, hoping it conveyed your love without patronizing his feelings.

Joe hesitated, pouting like a scolded puppy.

"Actually, sweetheart, do you mind taking a look at this?" Robin said, holding up her hand to reveal the beginnings of a scar running along her forearm. "It's been a week since I got it, and it's not healing right."

Your gaze shifted from Joe's sulky expression to Robin's arm. "Sure," you said, your professional instincts kicking in. You stepped out of Joe's embrace, following Robin to the bathroom. You could hear Joe grumble something under his breath as you closed the door behind you.

In the well-lit bathroom, you washed your hands before reaching out to take Robin's arm in your hand. "It does look a bit red," you said, your voice concerned. "How did you get it?"

"Tripped over a box at the garage sale," Robin said with a shrug, her tone airy. "Thought it was nothing, but it's still bothering me."

You continued scrutinizing the scar. "It's definitely inflamed," you said, your voice even. "I might need to write you a script for some antibiotics."

"Oh, no need," Robin said, her voice bright. "I got this checked out on Friday. I just wanted to hear your opinion and get you some space from Joe."

Your eyes widened as realization dawned on you. You couldn't help but laugh. "He's gonna kill me," you said, shaking your head. "But thank you, I needed a breather."

Robin chuckled, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "You guys are going to be okay," she assured you, giving you a comforting pat on the arm. "You just need to remember to make time for each other, and communicate when you need space better. Like Jimmy was saying, you need to find a good balance. I wouldn't want you two to be miserable over communication."

You nodded, your eyes lingering on the scar, which you knew was fine. The whole thing had been a clever ruse, but it had given you the break you needed. "We've been at each other's throats the last week. He just wants to be with me, but he can be..." you trailed off with a sigh.

Robin leaned closer, her expression understanding. "A little too determined?" she offered.

You nodded, unable to hold back a chuckle. "Yeah, that's one way to put it. But I love him, and I know he just misses me. I feel awful asking for space when he's so obviously trying to reconnect."

Robin squeezed your arm. "You're not asking for the moon, honey. Sometimes, Joe just needs a nudge to understand. You two are both stubborn as hell, but that's what makes you work. You understand him." She smiled softly before adding, "Just be upfront with him. Tell him you appreciate the affection, but you need some breathing room."

You nodded, taking Robin's advice to heart as you returned to the kitchen. You could see Joe sulking on the couch, scrolling through his phone. He glanced up, his eyes searching yours, looking for any sign of the argument's resolution. You felt a pang of guilt, knowing he was just craving your attention. You gave him a warm smile and took a seat beside him, your legs curling under you.

"Better?" he asked, a hint of hope in his voice.

"Much," you assured him, leaning into his side. You knew that Joe's clinginess was just his way of dealing with the distance your hectic schedules had forced between you. "Your mom just needs antibiotics for that scar," you said, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible.

Joe looked up from his phone, his expression unchanged. "Oh," he said, his voice devoid of interest, choosing instead to allow you to pull his arm around your shoulders. A sly smile tugged at his lips, he couldn't help but feel the tension in his chest ease slightly.

Your office buzzed with the steady rhythm of a busy clinic, the murmur of patients, and the tap of your heels against the linoleum punctuating the air. You stood at a long counter, finishing up your notes, when one of your nurses, Luca, looked up from where he was entering data into a computer. "Joe's here," he said, a knowing smile playing on his lips.

"Where?" you responded, your focus still on the paperwork you were filling out.

"In room four. He said he had an appointment," Luca replied, raising an eyebrow.

Your eyes darted up, a mix of surprise and confusion. "Appointment?" you murmured, setting your pen down and looking at Luca. "Was he on my schedule?" you trailed off, reaching for one of the stray iPads kept around the office to take a look at the day's appointments.

"Well, no. But your 2:45 was a no-show," Luca explained, his smile widening as he leaned back in his chair. "Taylor did his rooming and said it was something simple, probably just a sunburn."

You couldn't help but laugh, your heart warming at the thought of Joe sneaking in for a visit under the guise of needing medical attention. It had been weeks since you had any real quality time together, with his football schedule colliding with your busy clinic hours. You shook your head as you closed the manila folder you were holding. "Alright, I'll go see what Mr. Franchise needs," you said, your tone playfully sarcastic as you handed Luca the folder and pushed away from the counter.

Walking into the exam room, you saw Joe sitting comfortably wide in the light blue exam chair. He looked up when you entered, a familiar spark entering his eyes when he took in the sight of you. "Hey," he said, his voice low and a little shy.

"Hey yourself," you responded, your smile genuine despite your initial surprise. You set your iPad down, sitting cross-legged in your chair just a few feet away from him. "What's this about?" you inquired, your gaze traveling over his face and exposed limbs for any hint of the irritation that had allegedly brought him into the practice.

Joe shifted, his eyes avoiding yours for a brief moment before meeting them again. "Well, it's…it's my neck," he said, his cheeks flushing slightly. "My skin's been bothering me for a couple of days."

Your smile grew softer as you stood from your chair, walking over to inspect the area. "You know, I've told you before," you said gently, your voice professional despite the intimate setting. "You really need to get a better helmet liner. This irritation is from the constant rubbing."

Joe shrugged, his large hands folded in his lap. "I know, I know. I'll look into it," he said, his eyes meeting yours. The silence grew between them as you examined the reddened skin, your touch feather-light.

"When you sweat, the friction just the irritation makes it worse," you added, your thumbs tracing the inflamed line along his neck. "It's not anything serious, but it could become infected if you don't treat it. With your skin being so sensitive, we need to be careful."

Joe didn't respond, his eyes lingering on yours. You could feel his hands settle gently on your hips, urging you closer. You sighed, setting aside your professional demeanor for a moment. "You know you could've just called me to tell me about this," you murmured, a hint of exasperation in your voice. "Or gone to the team physician."

"Honey, are you listening to me?" you asked, your eyes searching his as you stepped closer, your hand reaching down to thread your fingers through his hair. The ends of his unstyled dirty blonde strands curled around your fingers, reminding you of the hundreds of times you had done this before. His cheek pressed to your chest, his breathing slowed, you knew he was enjoying the simple closeness.

His eyes fluttered closed, and he leaned into your touch. "I am," Joe said, his voice a soft rumble.

You couldn't help but chuckle, continuing your gentle threading. "You know you're being ridiculous," you said, your voice a warm tease. "Is everything okay? How was practice?"

"Practice was fine," Joe replied, his eyes still closed. "I missed you. Just wanted to see you."

You felt a twinge of guilt. "I know," you said, your voice gentle. "I miss you too. I'm sorry we've been like this lately."

Joe's arms tightened around you. "Me too," he murmured, focused on the way your heart beat steadily beneath his ear.

"Did you really come here just to see me?" you asked, your voice filled with a mix of affection and skepticism.

Joe looked up at you, a boyish grin playing on his lips. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said, his blue eyes sparkling. "My skin was irritated so I came to see the best dermatologist in Ohio."

You rolled your eyes playfully, unable to resist the warmth spreading through your chest. "You're terrible," you said, your voice filled with affection. "But I'll take the compliment." You lifted his jaw, meeting his eyes before leaning down to press a soft kiss to the tip of his nose. "I'll write you a prescription, you big baby."

Joe grinned, his grip loosening slightly. "I'm your big baby," he murmured, his eyes lighting up as you kissed his nose.

You couldn't resist the charm, your eyes crinkling with laughter. "You're something, alright," you said, stepping back to scribble something on the prescription pad. You tore off the top sheet and handed it to him. "This should help with the irritation, but you really do need to get that helmet sorted out."

Joe took the prescription with a nod, his eyes never leaving yours. "I'll do it," he promised, his voice earnest. He pulled your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles gently. "Thank you, Doc."

You felt the tension of the day melt away as you leaned into him, your free hand coming to rest on his cheek. "Any other ailments or afflictions you'd like me to check out?" you asked, your voice teasing.

Joe's smile grew into a grin. "Maybe just one more," he said, his thumb tracing a line down your arm. "My lips are kinda chapped."

You rolled your eyes, your own smile widening. "I'll take a look," you said, leaning in to kiss him lightly. "Feels fine to me. But maybe you should keep hydrating," you said, lightness entering your voice once again.

You shared a quiet laugh, the air in the room thick with the intimacy that had been missing from your recent interactions. Your hand lingered on his cheek for a moment longer before you stepped away, washing your hands before reaching for the medical cream you needed to apply. You squeezed a small amount onto your fingertips before gently rubbing it into the irritated area. Joe leaned into your touch, his eyes drifting closed as the coolness of the cream soothed his skin.

"You'll pick this up from the pharmacy, right?" you said, your voice firm but gentle as you capped the tube of cream.

Joe nodded, his eyes still closed. "Yes, ma'am," he mumbled, the tension in his shoulders visibly easing.

You couldn't help but smile at his obedience. "Good boy," you said, your thumb smoothing over the cream to ensure it was evenly applied. "And Joe, please don't make a habit of this. I nearly popped a blood vessel when I thought you had something serious going on."

Joe nodded, his eyes still closed, savoring the moment. "I know," he said. "But sometimes, I just need to feel you taking care of me, you know?"

Your heart swelled. You did know. Your lives had become a series of passing moments, stolen kisses, and rushed conversations. You missed the simplicity of your early days together too. You gently placed your hand on his shoulder, your thumb brushing against the fabric of his shirt in small, comforting circles. "I'll make sure to be home at a reasonable tonight," you promised.

Joe's eyes fluttered open, and he gave you a warm smile. "You don't have to," he said, his grip on your waist loosening slightly. "But I'd like that."

You nodded, your eyes soft as you met his gaze. "Okay, I'll be home by seven. We can have dinner together, and maybe watch Episode IV for the thousandth time?" you suggested, your voice hopeful.

Joe's grin grew. "Now, you're talking," he said as he leaned back in the chair. "You promise to stay awake for the whole thing?"

You rolled your eyes playfully. "It's dangerous to make promises like that," you teased. "But I'll try." You stepped back, your hand lingering on his shoulder before you finally pulled away. "Now, go get that cream, and start looking for liners. No more sneaky appointments unless it's a real issue."

Joe chuckled, standing from the chair. He wrapped his arms around you in a quick, tight embrace. "Deal," he murmured before letting go.

Things had seemed to cool off, but as the weekend drew closer, the two of you were swept back up into your separate routines. By the time Thursday evening came around, you were both exhausted and looking forward to a quiet night in.

It wasn't unusual for Ja'Marr to pop over, especially before important games when Joe had his individual film sessions. The two men had made it a tradition since their time together at LSU, their friendship had remained tight with their close proximity.

Ja'Marr, with his broad shoulders and a fresh cut, strolled into your house without knocking, having memorized the code to the keypad ages ago, a bag of chips in hand. "What's up?"

You looked up from the open fridge, shaking your head with a smile, watching him unload his pockets as Joe's heavy footsteps echoed down the hall. "Hey, I'm about to make dinner, you want some?"

Ja'Marr nodded, tossing the bag of chips onto the counter. "Yeah, sounds good," he said, offering you a side hug as Joe approached. The three of you settled into the kitchen, Joe leaning against the counter, Ja'Marr with his hands in his pockets, while you started pulling ingredients out of the fridge.

"You're cooking?" Joe asked, raising an eyebrow as he watched your flurry of activity. "Why don't you just order something?"

You shot him a look over your shoulder. "Because I want to?" you said, a sassy edge to your voice. You knew Joe's question was more than just a preference for takeout; it was his subtle way of hinting that you were working too hard. "It'll help clear my head."

Ja'Marr chuckled, taking a seat at the kitchen island. "Joe, are you really complaining right now?" he teased, popping a chip into his mouth.

Joe shrugged, his eyes still focused on your moving figure. "Nah, just making sure you're not pushing yourself too much," he said, his voice filled with affectionate concern. "You've been going non-stop lately."

You rolled your eyes but couldn't suppress your smile. "I am literally making you dinner," you said, your voice light. "How are you complaining?"

Ja'Marr laughed outright at that, shaking his head. "You two are something else," he said, taking a sip of water, scowling when Joe reached into his bag of chips for a few pieces.

"What?" Joe said, munching on a handful. "You walk into my house uninvited, man. I can have a few of your chips."

You walked over to Joe, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Go watch film, I'm okay, I promise," you said, gently nudging him away from the kitchen. You knew he was just trying to help, but you needed this time to unwind.

Joe sighed but didn't argue further, grabbing his iPad and retreating to the living room. Ja'Marr lingered behind, watching your every move with an expectant look on his face.

"Yes, Ja'Marr?" you asked, your eyes flickering over to him as you prepped vegetables.

"Are you still driving up to Cleveland on Sunday?" he started with a light tone. "If you are, maybe my girl could sit with you? She's been wanting to see me play in person for a while."

You paused mid-chop, the knife hovering over a bell pepper. You looked up at him, a hint of surprise in your eyes. "No, actually," you said, placing the knife down carefully. "I thought I'd stay home this weekend, maybe go to the spa, and catch the game from here."

Ja'Marr's eyebrows shot up, and he looked at you as if you had just suggested something unthinkable. "You're not going to the game?" he said, his tone incredulous.

Before you could respond, Joe's voice cut through the kitchen, his tone incredulous. "What do you mean you're not going to the game?" he called out from the living room.

You took a deep breath before releasing a long sigh. You knew Joe was sensitive about you not attending the games you typically did, but you had her reasons. "I just need some me-time, Joe," you called back, your voice firm. "I don't want to drive to Cleveland by myself. Besides, you're going to be busy with the game. I won't even see you until we get home at like two in the morning."

Joe appeared in the kitchen entryway, his expression a mix of confusion and hurt. "That's not the point," he said, his voice tight. "You always come to the games in Cleveland."

You took another deep breath, keeping your eyes on your task. "Joe, this has nothing to do with you. I just know I'm gonna be exhausted, and I want to take care of myself."

Ja'Marr looked uncomfortable, shifting in his seat. "Maybe I'll just ask Tee," he offered, trying to ease the tension. "His mom is staying with him this week, she might go to the Cleveland game."

"It's fine," you said, turning to give him a reassuring smile. You didn't want to ruin his night with your relationship woes. "I didn't know you were that serious about her. I wish I could meet her."

Joe's face fell, and he took a step forward, obscuring Ja'Marr's view of your faces. His voice dropped, "Are you really not coming?"

You could hear the disappointment in his tone, and you felt a twinge of guilt. You knew Joe thrived on your support at games, and you had been his rock at every single one, cheering him on from the sidelines. But you were tired, so tired. "I'm sorry, babe," you said, your voice sincere. "I was gonna tell you tonight."

Joe crossed his arms, his eyes searching yours. "Is that the real reason?" he pressed, his voice low. "Or are you upset with me about something?"

You took a deep breath, turning to face him fully. "Joe," you said, your tone measured with a warning. "I have my own life too. Work is tiring, and I need the weekend to recover."

Joe's jaw tightened, his blue eyes boring into yours. "But we hardly see each other as it is," he countered. "I like knowing you're there, supporting me."

"Are you worried I won't watch if I'm not sitting in the stadium? Because I promise you, I'll be screaming at the refs through the TV just as loud." You knew Joe was taking your absence personally, but you couldn't help the way you felt.

"It's not the same," Joe said, his voice gruff. "You know that."

You sighed, wiping your hands on a kitchen towel. "Babe," you began, your voice calm but firm. "I love watching you play, but I can't always drop everything to follow you around. I have my own shit to deal with here."

Joe shook his head, biting at his lip with a frown. "I don't get it," he murmured, his voice tight with frustration. "But whatever."

Your eyes narrowed slightly at his tone, but you kept your voice steady. "What don't you get?" you asked, your patience wearing thin.

"We will talk about this later," Joe said, his voice a low growl. Your jaw tightened, the two of you engaged in a silent staring contest.

Ja'Marr took the moment of silence to clear his throat awkwardly. "I can leave if you need to talk? Just let me know when dinner's ready?"

You offered him a tight smile. "No, it's fine. Stay and watch film."

Joe didn't say anything, choosing instead to continue staring intensely at the side of your face as you resumed chopping vegetables. The kitchen was filled with the rhythmic sound of the knife slicing through the peppers, the tension palpable. You felt a simmer of annoyance build in your chest, but you pushed it down. You didn't want to fight, not really, but you had to stand your ground.

"Okay," Ja'Marr drew out slowly under his breath. "Y'all two fighting like an old married couple. Maybe you need some one-on-one time, or some shit."

Joe grunted, his arms still crossed tightly over his chest. "What do you mean?"

Ja'Marr leaned back against the counter, popping another chip in his mouth as he attempted to play relationship counselor. "Y''all been at each other's necks," he said, gesturing between you. "Maybe you just need to, you know, fix it in the bedroom."

You couldn't help but snort with laughter, turning to Joe with narrowed eyes. "Did your best friend just tell us to have sex to solve our problems? Both of you get out of my kitchen, please. Go do literally anything else."

Joe couldn't help the laugh that erupted from his chest. He turned to stalk off to the living room, already taking Ja'Marr's words to heart. The wide receiver followed him as he muttered, "I'm just tryna help you, bro."

You finished dinner, serving the two men before retreating to your office to catch up on some paperwork. Ja'Marr had left before the clock hit 8:30, reminding Joe of his earlier words.

"Maybe he's onto something," Joe mumbled to himself, watching as the front door closed.

By the time Joe made it up to your bedroom, you were already tucked into bed, your laptop open and the soft glow of the screen casting a cool light over your features. You looked up at him as he entered, your eyes questioning. He paused in the doorway, his mind racing. He knew he had to tread carefully; he didn't want to start another fight, especially not after your earlier tension.

"Hey," he began, his voice tentative.

You paused from her work, the glow from the laptop lighting up your face. You studied him for a moment before closing your laptop with a sigh. "Hey," you replied, confusion etched into your features as you observed Joe carefully.

Joe took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the unspoken words between the two of you. He walked over to the bed and sat down beside you, his eyes searching yours. "I'm sorry about earlier," he said, his voice sincere. "I overreacted. I just miss you, you know?"

You nodded, the tension in your shoulders visibly dissipating. "I miss you too," you admitted, your voice softer, offering him space to climb under the blanket with you.

Joe leaned in, his hand brushing against your cheek as he turned your face to meet his. His eyes searched yours, looking for any lingering anger or resentment. Finding none, he leaned in to kiss you, a gentle brush of his lips against yours that grew more urgent with each passing second. You closed your eyes, your arms sliding around his neck as you melted into the kiss.

Your kiss grew deeper, your bodies pressing closer together as Joe's hand traveled down to your waist, pulling you towards him. You felt the warmth spread through you, the stress of the day slowly evaporating. The two of you broke apart, both panting slightly, staring into each other's eyes as if seeing one another for the first time in weeks.

"Do you want to...?" Joe trailed off, his voice low and hopeful, his thumb tracing the plump of your bottom lip. His palm cupped the side of your face, blue eyes searching yours.

You studied him, the love and desire swirling in his gaze undeniable. You knew he was referring to the "one-on-one time" Ja'Marr had so bluntly suggested. Despite your initial dismissal, you couldn't ignore the spark it had ignited within you. The petty fights had clearly been a symptom of a deeper issue - your lack of intimacy. "Please," you murmured, leaning into his touch.

Joe didn't need any more encouragement. He leaned back, pulling you with him so you were straddling his hips. The weight of you felt like home, the warmth of your skin seeping into his as he kissed you deeply, his hands exploring your curves. Your sighs turned into a moan as you ground your hips down into his, feeling his hand squeeze your ass under his palms before bringing a hand down to hear the satisfying 'smack', the friction sending shockwaves through Joe's body.

He rolled you over, his body pressing yours into the mattress, his hands roaming over your skin, peeling your clothes away. Your hands were equally busy, fumbling with the hem of his shirt, your nails scraping lightly against his chest as you pushed the fabric over his head. The room was filled with the sound of your ragged breaths and the rustle of fabric.

Your kisses grew more urgent, Joe's hands tracing a path down your body, his fingertips dancing along the edge of your panties. You gasped, your body arching up into his touch. He paused, his eyes dark with desire. "Tell me what you need, baby," he whispered against your skin, lips drawing heat as they pressed wet kisses to your chest, nipping eagerly at the fat of your breasts, hands kneading the flesh beneath his palms.

Your breath hitched, your voice thick with want. "You," you managed to get out, your eyes fluttering shut as Joe's mouth found your neck, kissing and sucking the tender skin there. His touch was soothing an ache you hadn't realized you had been carrying with you for weeks.

"I can do that," he said, his words muffled against your salty skin. Your hips squirmed against him, your lips parting with another pretty moan from the feel of his tip pressing against your core. You could feel the frustration of him being so close but not close enough. The thin fabric of your underwear - ironically matching in color - was the only barrier left between you.

With a low groan, Joe's hands slid down to the waistband of your panties, his thumbs hooking into the elastic. Your own hands were busy in his hair, pulling him closer as his mouth found your breasts. He kissed and bit, his teeth grazing your nipples, and you couldn't help but arch your back, pushing yourself into his mouth. He took his time, savoring the taste of you, feeling the tremble of your body with each nibble.

You whined, tugging at the messy strands of his hair. "Joe," you breathed out his name, a plea for more. He chuckled darkly, his eyes gleaming with lust as he peered up at you. He held your gaze as his fingers slipped into your panties, humming in approval when he found you slick and ready. With a nudge, he kept your thighs spread to accommodate him, allowing you access to his lips as his fingers lightly stroked through your folds.

"You're so wet for me, baby," Joe murmured, his voice thick with want. He kissed your stomach, your hips rolling with impatience. He took his time, dragging his kisses down the line of your navel until his mouth was right there, hot breath against your clit. His cheek rested against your thigh, breathing in your sweet scent as he continued to hold you open for him.

Your eyes fluttered shut, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip as Joe's fingers continued rubbing you in slow circles, your hips bucking upward in silent demand. He trailed kisses down your inner thigh, his tongue darting out to soothe you after biting into your brown skin. The anticipation was agonizing, but you knew he enjoyed teasing you, drawing it out until you were begging.

"Joey," you breathed, your voice trembling with need. "Please."

He chuckled under his breath, forcing himself to keep his attention on your sensitive center. His fingers still pressed against you, sweeping through your wet pussy as your arousal began to coat the inside of your thighs and slowly drip down to the bed. He knew if he looked up and saw your face, he'd be lost in your eyes, so he focused on your reactions, the way your body arched and trembled. He brought his face closer, hovering just out of reach, his thumb gently teasing your entrance without giving you the satisfaction you craved.

"Give me a second, honey." He murmured reassuringly under his breath. "Need to make sure she remembers me. It's been so long, you think she does?" He smirked against your skin, his teeth grazing your inner thigh again, making you squirm.

Your grip tightened in his hair, your hips bucking upwards. "She'd never forget you," you managed to gasp out, your voice breathless. "Just..."

Joe took the hint, his smirk growing wider as he leaned in closer, his tongue pressing flat against your center, licking up your slit with a maddening slowness. Your nails dug into his scalp, your body tensing as he finally took you in his mouth, sucking and licking with a hunger that had been building for weeks. The sensation was overwhelming, your thighs shaking as they tense over his shoulders. You released a soft moan, the sound of his name on your lips like a prayer.

Your body was tightening, the tension in your core growing with each flick of his tongue, each gentle suck of his lips. Joe could feel you getting closer, the muscles in your legs tensing as your breath grew shorter. He didn't stop, his mouth working to bring you to the edge of pleasure. Your hips began to rock against him, your moans growing louder, gasping and writhing to his touch, feeling yourself getting closer and closer.

Joe pulled away with a smug smirk, watching you react to his touch as his fingers took over for his mouth. With a start, he inserted one finger inside you, feeling the heat and the tightness of your walls. He stayed close, watching the way your body quivered in reaction to his touch.

"I know, baby, I know," he soothed, voice deep as he kissed your thighs, his breath brushing over your overly sensitive skin. He watched your face, the way your eyes had glazed over and your teeth bit at your bottom lip. He didn't want you to come from his fingers, though. He wanted to feel you come around his cock, wanted to hear you scream his name as you lost control.

"Keep 'em open for me, gonna give you my cock, beautiful," he urged, instructing you to keep your thighs open as you whimpered at the loss of his fingers. He kissed your stomach before sitting up to remove his underwear. His cock stood proudly, thick and hard, the tip glistening with pre-cum. Your chest heaved as you watched him gently stroke himself, turning your head to the side as your thighs closed together, the ache for him unbearable. You could feel your pussy fluttering, begging for his attention.

He wasn't quite done teasing you. As he sat back on his heels, he guided his tip through your folds, using your wetness as his lubricant. You pressed the back of your hand to your mouth, muffling a moan at the sensation. Your eyes were glossed over with lust, watching him with a mix of frustration and need.

Without another word, Joe pushed into you, watching your eyes widen as he filled you up. He took his time, savoring the feel of your tight warmth surrounding him, your inner walls pulsing around him as you adjusted to his girth. Your eyes rolled back, your back arching off the bed as he began to move, setting a steady rhythm that had you both panting within moments.

Joe leaned forward, supporting himself on one hand as the other pulled your leg to rest against his hip. He was positioned directly over you, allowing your hands to reach for his jaw, bringing him down to kiss you deeply. You could feel the heat from his body, his chest pressing against your breasts, and you reveled in the feeling of being filled by him. His strokes grew more urgent, and you could feel the tension building within you once more.

"Come on, talk to me, sweetheart," he groaned out. "'M listening, need to hear your sweet voice."

Your breath hitched, your eyes snapping open to meet Joe's intense gaze. "I need you deeper," you whispered, your voice a desperate plea. He smirked, his eyes lighting up with challenge, and lowered himself onto an elbow, pulling the thigh in his grasp higher on his hip. The adjustment sent him deeper, and you gasped, your body tensing for a brief moment.

He chuckled, his thumb drawing a soothing circle into your thigh. "Breathe, baby," he murmured, his eyes never leaving yours. You took a deep breath, feeling the pressure building once more. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your legs locking around his waist as he began to move again, his hips rolling into yours with a deep, steady rhythm that had your toes curling as you struggled to stay in control of your body.

"Yeah," you moaned, your voice strained, "like that."

Joe's pace quickened, the sound of your skin slapping together filling the room as he pumped into you with an animalistic fervor that had been building since you started fighting. The frustration of the day, the need to claim you, to make you his again, was palpable in every thrust. You whimpered as his nose nudged against yours, reminding you to keep your eyes trained on his. He liked watching you come, liked the way your pupils would blow wide and your eyes would glaze over like you were baring your soul to him.

He felt you tighten around him, your legs squeezing him, your breaths coming out in short puffs. You were close, so close, and he couldn't help the smug smile that tugged at his lips. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. "Right there?"

You nodded, mouth wide, pupils blown, your breathing ragged. "Yes," you gasped, "right there, don't stop. Fuck, yes."

Joe groaned, his eyes never leaving yours as he felt you tighten around him. He could feel his own release building, but he held it back, focusing on you, wanting you to come first. His hips slammed into yours, the rhythm relentless, his cock driving deep within you with each thrust. You were so wet, so tight, the sensation of your pussy gripping him like a glove threatening to send him over the edge at any moment.

You began to squirm as your orgasm approached. Your breathing growing more shallow, your eyes locked with Joe's as if begging for release. His own breaths grew strained, the muscles in his arms tensing as he held himself above you, his hips moving faster, pushing into you with a force that had your body rocking against the bed.

"Uh uh," he tsked, snapping his hips into you with more force, the smugness in his expression growing with each whine you made. "You're not going anywhere, baby. Stay right here with me. I got you. Just let it go for me. Let me make you feel good."

The words were like a dam breaking, the orgasm crashing over you with a ferocity that had you arching into him, your legs tightening around him. You threw your head back, moaning his name as you came, your body shaking with the intensity of it. He watched your face, the way your eyes screwed shut and your mouth fell open in a silent scream, the way you clamped down on him, and it was his turn to moan out. He could feel your pulses around his cock, your walls milking him for all he was worth.

"Yeah, there you go, babe. That's it, baby, good fuckin' girl." Joe's voice was a gruff whisper in your ear, his thrusts growing more erratic as he felt your climax ripple through your body. He held on, waiting for you to come back down before he allowed himself to go over the edge. Your nails dug into his skin, leaving lines on his back, but he didn't care. He liked the push and pull, liked knowing that you were feeling everything just as intensely as he was.

"Oh, my fucking god - shit!" you gasped, feeling your orgasm continue to ravage your senses, each wave more intense than the previous as Joe's hips continued to roll into yours.

"Look at that. So fuckin' beautiful," Joe murmured, his voice thick with the beginning of his own climax. He leaned in, capturing your mouth in a searing kiss as his own release began to build. The taste of you was on his tongue, and it was all he needed to push him over the edge. He groaned, his hips stuttering as he filled you, the warmth of his cum spilling into your depths as his muscles tensed and then relaxed.

Your bodies lay tangled together, a mess of sweat and limbs as you both caught your breath. You felt Joe's weight shift, his muscles slackening against you as his breath evened out. You trailed your fingers through his tousled hair, pressing gentle kisses to his forehead as the fuzziness in his head cleared.

"You okay?" He murmured, his voice gruff with satisfaction.

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. "Okay," you assured him. "You?"

"Better than okay." Joe nuzzled closer, his chest rising and falling with deep, contented breaths. You lay in a cocoon of warmth, the sheets twisted around your legs. "We should do this more often."

You chuckled, stroking your hand down his back. "Damn," you breathed, your voice filled with a mix of pleasure and amazement. "You've never spoken to me like that before."

He laughed, his eyes still closed as he enjoyed the still aftermath of your passion. "It's all that pent-up frustration," he murmured. "But you liked it."

It was a statement, not a question, and you couldn't help but agree. You kissed him again, your hands still tangled in his hair. "I loved it," you admitted, your voice still a bit breathless.

Joe chuckled, his chest rumbling against you as he pulled out of you. "Good to know," he murmured, his thumb tracing over your cheek. "Guess we know what the cure for our petty fights is now."

You couldn't help but laugh, the tension from earlier dissipating. "Next time I start arguing with you about stupid shit, you have my permission to fuck it out of me."

Joe smirked, planting a kiss on your forehead. "Deal," he agreed, his voice filled with a newfound lightness. He rolled away from you, collapsing onto the bed with a sigh of contentment. You turned onto your side, kissing him softly before slipping out of bed to clean yourself up.

Joe followed her, allowing you space to handle your business before taking his turn. When you both climbed back into bed, the air was thicker, charged with the aftermath of your released tension. You lay down with a satisfied sigh, your body still humming with pleasure. You snuggled closer to him, your hand tracing shapes over his chest as you lay in the quiet darkness.

"I'm sorry for being such a pain in the ass recently," Joe said, his voice soft and sincere. "I know you've got a lot going on with work and stuff, but I just feel guilty being gone so much this season."

Your hand paused on his chest, your eyes searching his in the dim light of the room. "I know, baby," you replied, your voice filled with understanding. "It's not your fault, I should've been more honest, should've told you I wasn't going to Cleveland when I made the decision."

"That's okay," Joe said, his thumb tracing lazy circles into your supple skin. "We're good. I'll go up to Cleveland, get a win, and come back for victory sex." His voice was light, the tension from earlier replaced with humor and affection.

You couldn't help but laugh, "Sounds like a plan." You cuddled closer to Joe, feeling the warmth of his body seeping into yours.

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