#thed.i.l.fchronicles

[honeydippedfiction]

Can we get some more of Angel and Joe cause they’re sweet pure love and the other Joe is pissing me off by not being honest with my girl? Other Joe is on time out.

Dilf!Joe would and will never disappoint, other Joe? Oh he's in the doghouse honey

Tactical Distraction

The living room glowed with a warm, lazy kind of light—the floor lamp casting soft amber across mismatched throw pillows and a coffee table littered with the remains of dinner. Crumpled takeout bags, a couple of forgotten spring rolls, and two half-empty drinks stood like the last witnesses of a meal consumed with more appetite than elegance.

Angel sat curled up on one side of the couch, legs tucked beneath her, a game controller snug in her hands. Joe was beside her, slightly slouched, his forearm brushing hers every time he adjusted his grip. The TV lit their faces with bursts of color, a kaleidoscope of flashing kart racers and cartoon chaos.

They were halfway through a round of Mario Kart, and the stakes were higher than usual. Pride. Honor. Possibly a week of dishwashing.

Onscreen, Angel’s Princess Peach teetered just behind Joe’s Yoshi, her kart weaving perilously near the edge of Rainbow Road. Joe’s kart was holding second place with smug confidence, banana peels flying behind him like breadcrumbs.

Angel's eyes narrowed, thumb twitching on the joystick.

“No way you're beating me again,” she muttered through gritted teeth.

Joe didn’t look over. His eyes stayed locked on the screen, one corner of his mouth twitching with the kind of smirk that only someone who’d just dodged their fifth banana could manage.

“Might help if you stopped hitting every banana on the track, babe.”

Angel huffed, not dignifying that with a response. Instead, her gaze flicked sideways, studying him out of the corner of her eye—the sharp jaw, the casual cockiness, the way he leaned into the game like he was born with a controller in hand.

She got an idea.

Her mouth curled into a grin so mischievous it could’ve been criminal.

“Okay,” she said slowly, feigning calm. “Desperate times.”

Before Joe could question her tone, Angel lunged sideways and clamped one hand over his eyes.

“Hey!” Joe yelped, jerking in surprise, his fingers mashing random buttons. “Foul play! I can’t see!”

Onscreen, Yoshi veered violently left, slammed into a wall, and spiraled into digital oblivion.

Angel cackled. “You didn’t say I couldn’t use tactical distractions.”

“I knew you were gonna pull something!” Joe laughed, trying to wriggle away, his free hand still flailing at the buttons. “I should’ve made you sign a no-cheating clause.”

“I play to win, Burrow.”

“I can’t see! This is sabotage!”

“You’ll live.”

She released her hold just in time for him to recover, dodging a Red Shell by a pixel. But Joe was already glaring at her sideways, that playful, dangerous spark lighting his eyes.

“You realize you’ve just declared war, right?”

Angel shrugged, feigning innocence. “Please. I was losing. That was a mercy move.”

“Right. And when I win this race, you’re doing dishes all week.”

“Only if you win without your eyes closed again.”

He surged forward, kart blazing through the final stretch—but Angel wasn’t done. She waited. Timed it perfectly. And then, like a final blow in a silent duel, she launched a Blue Shell.

Joe’s gasp was loud and dramatic.

“You did not—”

“Oh,” she grinned, “I did.”

Yoshi exploded in a fireball of bad luck and shredded dignity. Peach zipped past seconds from the finish line.

Angel sprang up from the couch, arms in the air.

“YESSSS! Peach for the clutch! Let’s gooo!”

She twisted into a full-blown victory dance—some chaotic hybrid of a shimmy and a touchdown celebration. Joe watched, eyebrows raised.

“That’s what we call elite gamer instinct, Burrow,” she said between moves. “You can’t teach that. It’s raw talent.”

He scoffed. “You mean raw sabotage.”

Angel gasped in mock offense, then dropped dramatically onto the couch beside him.

“You lost because I outplayed you. Outsmarted you. And let’s be honest... out-cuted you.”

Joe tried to keep a straight face, but the smile tugging at the edge of his lips betrayed him.

“You’re really enjoying this, huh?”

“I’m thriving,” she said, already spinning in place. “Do you want a song? A trophy? I could use glitter. Shame. A little glittery shame trophy.”

She strutted across the room like she’d just won the Super Bowl.

“And in the final lap,” she announced in a booming sportscaster voice, “Joe Burrow was absolutely demolished by his wildly attractive and talented wife! The crowd goes wild!”

She mimed tossing confetti, fists in the air.

Joe watched her, arms crossed, pretending to be unimpressed.

“You done?”

Angel sashayed past him again, tossing an invisible bouquet into the air. “Oh, I haven’t even started.”

And just like that, Joe stood, grabbed her by the waist, and threw her over his shoulder in one swift motion.

Angel shrieked with laughter. “JOE! What are you—put me down!”

“Nope,” he said, already walking toward the hallway. “You run your mouth, you get a punishment. That’s the rule.”

“This is excessive force!”

“This is Mario Kart prison. Maximum security. No parole.”

Angel squirmed, still laughing. “You are such a sore loser!”

“Correction,” Joe said, adjusting her slightly with one arm. “I am a justified sore loser.”

Angel smacked his butt with her free hand. “Good game, Burrow.”

He paused in the hallway, glanced over his shoulder with a slow, wicked grin. “Oh, that’s how we’re playing?”

Without warning, he ducked his head and nipped at her exposed thigh.

She gasped. “Joe! You animal! That’s not regulation!”

“Told you,” he said, carrying her into the bedroom like a trophy of war. “Actions have consequences.”

Her laughter echoed down the hall, mingling with the faint, forgotten theme music of the game still looping in the background.

The console kept playing.

But the game, for now, was over.

[honeydippedfiction]

I’m back again! Joe is such a girl dad, he always has to have her in his immediate vicinity. Someone from the team wants to hold her? He’s hovering and watching. Time for bedtime? Joe doesn’t want to leave her “Come on babe, just a few more minutes.” as he holds her in his and Angel’s bed https://pin.it/1rDnR4Fqy

nonnie you and your beautfiul mind. here's some Joe and Zariyah moments.

"Nowhere Without Her"

The locker room buzzed with the familiar chaos of post-practice routine—shoulder pads clattered against metal lockers, the low thump of bass-heavy music pulsed from a corner speaker, and players talked over each other in that easy, exhausted way that came after hours of sweat and grind.

But in the middle of it all, standing calm amid the storm, Joe Burrow wasn’t reviewing film on a tablet or breaking down plays with a coach. He wasn’t even halfway listening to the noise around him.

He was holding Zariyah.

Cradled snugly in the crook of his left arm, his baby girl gripped the drawstring of his hoodie like it was a lifeline. Her tiny fingers curled tight around the soft cotton as she blinked up at the fluorescent lights overhead, wide-eyed and completely unfazed by the surrounding world of cleats, helmets, and adrenaline.

She didn’t cry. Didn’t squirm. Just existed—serene and unbothered—like she belonged there.

Because she did.

And Joe? He wasn’t concerned with who might be watching. Cameras. Teammates. Reporters. It didn’t matter. Zariyah went where he went. No questions. No exceptions.

"Yo!" a familiar voice cut through the locker room din. Tee Higgins sauntered over, sweat still drying on his temples, a grin spreading across his face as he caught sight of the baby. “She’s gettin’ big, man. Lemme hold her?”

Joe didn’t move right away. Not his arms, not his feet. But something in his posture shifted—barely perceptible to most, but unmistakable to anyone who knew him. A slight stiffening. That instinctive dad reflex, quiet but immediate.

He didn’t say no. That wasn’t really Joe’s style. But he didn’t say yes either. He just looked at Tee—one eyebrow arched, lips tugging into a half-smile that didn’t quite hide the protectiveness in his eyes.

“You wash your hands?” Joe asked, voice casual but laced with a teasing warning.

Tee laughed, raising both hands like he was being frisked. “C’mon, bro, I’m good. I ain't tryna get kicked off the baby team.”

Joe eyed him for a second longer, then—after what felt like a silent internal checklist—he shifted his weight and gently passed Zariyah over, like she was made of glass and moonlight.

“Support her head,” he murmured, already hovering close.

Tee adjusted his grip, a little more nervous than he expected to be. “Man, she’s so small,” he said quietly, his voice dipping to a register usually reserved for huddles and prayers.

“Yeah,” Joe said, folding his arms and watching like a hawk. “She’s perfect.”

He didn’t step more than two paces away. Didn’t break line of sight. His body relaxed only slightly, like he was on standby, just in case.

It was a scene the guys had grown used to by now.

What had started as locker room banter—just another nickname tossed around the group chat the day Joe showed up late because Zariyah wouldn’t stop crying unless he rocked her—had turned into something else. Something truer.

“Girl Dad.”

It began as a joke. Now, it was his identity. Not just something they called him, but something they felt in the way he moved, the way he held her, the way nothing—not even game prep—came before her.

Joe Burrow might’ve had one of the strongest arms in the league, but everyone in that room knew the truth.

The tightest grip he ever had?

Was on her.

And nothing in the world—not fame, not football, not fourth-quarter comebacks—mattered more than the little girl who fell asleep on his chest without a care in the world.

☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ✧˖*°࿐⋆·˚ ༘ * 🔭☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ✧˖*°࿐⋆·˚ ༘ * 🔭

"Just a Few More Minutes"

The house had settled into its evening hush—the kind of quiet that didn’t demand silence but invited it, like a gentle exhale after a long day. Outside, the world had dimmed, the sky a soft gradient of leftover twilight, and even the wind seemed to tread softly against the windows.

Inside the bedroom, the only light came from a bedside lamp, its amber glow pooling gently across the room. The baby monitor blinked idly on the nightstand, its tiny green light a silent sentinel. But it wasn’t needed tonight.

Zariyah wasn’t in her crib.

She was right where Joe wanted her—sprawled on his chest, tucked beneath his chin, the rise and fall of her breath syncing perfectly with the steady rhythm of his heart. The pacifier in her mouth wobbled with each sleepy exhale, and one small hand, warm and impossibly soft, rested along the curve of his jaw. Every now and then, her fingers twitched, lost in whatever quiet dreams danced behind her fluttering eyelids.

Joe lay there still, one arm wrapped securely around her back, the other draped lazily across his own ribs. His body was tired—practice, meetings, the usual—but his mind was calm, grounded in a way that had nothing to do with football and everything to do with the tiny human snoring softly against his chest.

He could’ve stayed like that forever.

From the doorway, Angel watched them. Her arms were folded loosely across her chest, and there was a familiar look on her face—the one that blended affection and mock exasperation into something that looked a lot like love.

“She needs to go down, Joe,” she said gently, voice low enough not to stir Zariyah.

Joe didn’t look at her right away. He shifted just enough to glance up without moving the baby, his movements slow, careful. The exhaustion in his eyes was unmistakable, but so was the peace. A quiet contentment that seemed to radiate from every part of him.

“Just a few more minutes,” he murmured, brushing his fingers lightly over Zariyah’s tiny back.

Angel exhaled, not quite a sigh—more a release of air than resistance. She wasn’t surprised. This had become something of a routine: Joe clinging to bedtime moments like a quarterback refusing to let go of the ball on fourth and goal. Not out of stubbornness—but because letting go felt too much like losing time he couldn’t get back.

She stepped into the room, the floor creaking softly beneath her bare feet. “You said that twenty minutes ago,” she said, but her voice was all warmth, no pressure.

“I know,” he replied, eyes dropping back down to his daughter. “I just… I don’t know. Every time I think I’m ready to put her down, she does something—sighs, twitches, grabs my shirt—and it’s like... how am I supposed to walk away from that?”

Angel sat down on the edge of the bed beside him, her shoulder pressing lightly into his. She leaned over, resting her chin on his opposite shoulder, gaze falling on their daughter’s peaceful face. “You’re obsessed,” she whispered, smiling.

Joe smiled too, without looking away. “I know.”

“She’s got you wrapped so tight, it’s kind of scary,” Angel teased, though there was no judgment in it—just wonder, admiration. Maybe even a little envy.

“She’s got my whole damn heart,” Joe said, kissing the top of Zariyah’s head with a tenderness that made Angel’s chest ache.

They sat in silence for a moment, the kind of silence that didn’t need filling. Zariyah let out a quiet, contented noise, her head nestling deeper into the soft fabric of Joe’s hoodie. He didn’t move—couldn’t have, really—not with that kind of trust sleeping on top of him.

Angel leaned her head against his, her hand resting lightly on his forearm. “I’m glad she has you,” she said softly.

Joe swallowed, voice barely above a whisper. “I think I needed her more.”

Time passed in slow, golden minutes. Not measured by clocks, but by breaths, by heartbeats, by the stillness that only came with complete presence. Eventually, Angel stood, stretching a little as she moved to retrieve a blanket from the foot of the bed. She draped it over Joe and Zariyah, smoothing it gently across their legs.

“She’s gonna end up sleeping there all night,” she murmured with a smirk.

Joe didn’t argue. His hand rubbed small, steady circles along Zariyah’s back, his eyes already half-closed.

“Maybe,” he said. “But I don’t mind. Not tonight.”

And as the house slipped further into its quiet, the world outside continuing to whisper, Joe stayed just like that—with his daughter asleep on his chest, and his heart exactly where it was supposed to be.

Home.

☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ✧˖*°࿐⋆·˚ ༘ * 🔭☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ✧˖*°࿐⋆·˚ ༘ * 🔭

"Grandpa’s Girl (But Not for Long)"

Family time at the Burrow house was always a warm kind of chaos.

Voices overlapped at the dinner table—someone halfway through a story when another memory came barreling in, louder and funnier, pulling the conversation in a new direction. Platters of food were passed from hand to hand, sometimes twice, sometimes forgotten until someone remembered the mashed potatoes three bites too late. Laughter echoed off the kitchen tiles and bounced against the walls, where old photographs of holidays and birthdays and football games watched silently, framed in nostalgia.

It was messy. It was loud. It was home.

And today, it came with a small betrayal.

Joe stood in the kitchen doorway, arms crossed over his chest, one shoulder resting against the frame. He was still in sweatpants and a long-sleeve tee, hair tousled from a nap he hadn’t meant to take. But his eyes were sharp—focused entirely on the scene playing out in the living room just beyond the hum of voices and clink of dishes.

Zariyah, his daughter, his baby girl, had chosen her grandpa.

She was curled up contentedly in Jimmy Burrow’s lap, giggling at whatever ridiculous noise he was making—a low growl, followed by a quick "boop" on her nose. Her tiny hands kept patting at his beard like it was the softest, most fascinating thing in the world, and every time her fingers brushed over the wiry gray scruff, she let out another squeal of delight.

Joe didn’t speak. Not yet. He just watched, brow drawn slightly, lips pursed in quiet betrayal. The look on his face was subtle, but unmistakable.

Angel noticed it the moment she passed him on her way to grab a drink from the fridge.

“Don’t start,” she murmured under her breath, bumping his shoulder with hers as she walked by.

“I’m not starting,” Joe muttered, even as he kept his eyes fixed on Zariyah like she’d personally wounded him.

Angel gave him that knowing glance—the one she reserved for when he was being ridiculous but kind of adorable about it. “He’s her grandpa, Joe.”

“I know,” he said, drawing out the words like they tasted bitter. “I’m just sayin’… she usually picks me.”

As if summoned by the tension, Jimmy looked up from his chair, eyes crinkled at the corners with a grin. “You better watch out, son,” he said cheerfully. “She’s got good taste.”

Joe forced a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. Then, slowly, he crossed the room and crouched down beside his dad’s chair. His hand reached out instinctively, fingers curling toward his daughter.

“Hey, baby girl,” he said softly, his voice dropping to that special register he reserved just for her. “Wanna come with Daddy?”

Zariyah looked at him. Her big brown eyes blinked once, considering. Then she turned her face into her grandpa’s chest, gave a little sigh, and snuggled in deeper like she hadn’t even heard the offer.

Joe blinked. A slow, wounded blink.

“Wow,” he said, flatly. “Cold.”

Jimmy just chuckled, rocking her gently. “You had her all morning, Joey. Let us have a turn.”

Joe leaned back on his heels, sulking in the way only a very proud, very mildly rejected dad could. “I don’t like sharing,” he muttered, eyes still on Zariyah. “She’s supposed to be a daddy’s girl.”

Angel had settled onto the couch by now, a plate of pie balanced on her knee. “Guess you’ve got some competition,” she said with a smirk.

Joe sighed, but the edge of his mouth betrayed him, twitching upward despite his best effort to stay in his feelings. His gaze softened as he watched his dad sway gently, humming some tune under his breath while Zariyah’s lashes fluttered closed. Her tiny fingers curled into the fabric of Jimmy’s shirt, and Joe’s chest gave a quiet tug at the sight.

Yeah, maybe he was jealous.

But mostly? He was grateful.

Because this—this was what it was all about. Layers of love stacked across generations. The kind of bond that didn’t need words to explain. His daughter, wrapped in the arms of the man who’d taught him how to love, how to lead, how to show up even when you were tired, even when the world pulled you in every direction.

Zariyah’s chest rose and fell in steady rhythm, completely at peace.

And Joe—despite the mock betrayal—couldn’t help but smile for real now, the kind that crept in slow and settled behind his eyes.

Still, he made a quiet promise to himself as he rose to his feet.

The moment she stirred? The second she opened those sleepy eyes?

He was calling her back.

Daddy’s girl, after all.

☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ✧˖*°࿐⋆·˚ ༘ * 🔭☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ✧˖*°࿐⋆·˚ ༘ * 🔭

"Coach Zariyah"

The tablet sat propped up on Joe’s thigh, its screen flickering between frames, flashing defensive schemes, blitz pickups, and coverage rotations. Plays ran in rapid succession, repeating over and over again like a constant loop, slow-motion breakdowns of what worked, what didn’t, what needed fixing. It was the rhythm of his world, of every week. Another game, another chance to perfect the craft.

But nestled in the crook of his arm, like she was running the entire Bengals’ offense herself?

Zariyah.

She was in full-on babble mode, a tiny whirlwind of sound and motion, her little hands flailing in the air like she was calling the shots. Her pacifier hung loosely from the collar of her onesie, swinging back and forth like a sideline whistle, bouncing with each excited squeal she let out. She looked at the screen with an intensity that Joe could only describe as professional. Every so often, she’d point at the flashing images, her little finger stabbing the air as if she were drawing up Xs and Os with the same urgency he’d seen in countless huddles.

"Da-da-da-da-da," she chattered, her voice rising in pitch, her miniature fist punching the air like she was making a game-winning call.

Joe grinned, his eyes softening as he looked down at her. He wrapped one arm around her, holding her close while the other swiped effortlessly across the tablet’s screen. It was like muscle memory. He’d done this thousands of times, breaking down film, scanning defenses, making split-second decisions.

“Oh yeah?” he said, raising his eyebrows in mock seriousness. “Cover 2, huh? You think I should’ve hit Chase on that post route?”

Zariyah’s response came quickly—a high-pitched squeal, followed by a dramatic slap of her hand on his chest, like she was emphasizing her point with a force that belied her size.

Joe chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. "Okay, okay, I hear you, Coach Z. I’ll get it next time."

From the hallway, Angel peeked in, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed. A smirk danced across her lips as she watched the two of them. "Is she correcting your reads again?" she asked, the amusement clear in her voice.

“She’s brutal,” Joe said, glancing up at his wife with a smile that only partially masked his mock frustration. He tapped the volume down on the tablet, turning it low enough to hear Zariyah’s constant stream of babbling. “Keeps telling me I missed the hot route.”

Angel laughed, shaking her head as she disappeared back into the kitchen. “She’s not wrong.”

Joe smiled to himself, letting the sound of Zariyah’s coos fill the space between them. He leaned back against the couch, stretching his legs out, making himself comfortable. The tablet’s screen flickered as the next play looped through, but he barely noticed. His focus was on the little girl in his arms, the tiny bundle of joy who was now half-draped across his chest, wiggling and babbling like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Maybe this wasn’t the way most quarterbacks prepped for Sunday games. Most quarterbacks didn’t juggle a baby and game film at the same time. But then again, most quarterbacks weren’t Joe Burrow. And most quarterbacks didn’t have their whole world nestled into the crook of their arm in the form of a teething, giggling, determined little girl.

With her there, right next to him, tucked in close like she was a piece of heaven wrapped in a Bengals onesie, everything seemed to make more sense. The constant cycle of games, practices, and film—it all had purpose now.

Zariyah let out another squeal, a burst of joy that sent her hands flailing toward the tablet screen, her tiny finger aiming at one of the defenders on the display. Joe squinted, following the path her finger traced on the screen.

“...You might actually be right,” he muttered, furrowing his brow. There was something in the way Zariyah was pointing that made him double-check the play. It was subtle—just a shift in the angle of a defender, a misstep in coverage. It was the kind of thing only a true football mind would catch. And she had just caught it.

He couldn’t help but laugh softly under his breath. Maybe she didn’t know what exactly she was looking at, but there was no mistaking the instinct in her tiny movements. She was already in the game. Already thinking it through, even if her understanding of the Xs and Os was more intuitive than anything else.

"Alright, alright," he murmured to her, shaking his head in amazement. “You’ve got a good eye, kid. We’ll fix it on the next drive.”

Zariyah squealed again, her enthusiasm unrestrained, her tiny body wiggling even harder in his arms. Joe pressed his lips to her head in a soft kiss, feeling the weight of the moment settle in. The film was still playing, but the real victory wasn’t on the screen. It was right here, in his arms, in the laughter and joy of being a father, a coach, a quarterback—one role feeding into the other in ways he hadn’t anticipated.

As Zariyah continued to babble, her face lighting up with every new sound she made, Joe allowed himself to sink into the moment. This wasn’t just preparation for Sunday. It was preparation for life.

And as long as Zariyah was there, sharing her own little commentary, he knew everything would be alright.

☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ✧˖*°࿐⋆·˚ ༘ * 🔭☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ✧˖*°࿐⋆·˚ ༘ * 🔭

—-"Priorities"

The game was over.

The buzz of the locker room was electric—cameras flashing, reporters swarming like bees drawn to the scent of victory, and the clatter of cleats on concrete filled the air as players filtered in. Coaches shouted quick recaps, their voices rising above the chatter, while players slapped backs and exchanged high-fives. Some limped from the bruises of the game, others laughed through the adrenaline, but Joe Burrow?

He had tunnel vision.

The usual postgame urgency—the interviews, the quick hits, the need to be everywhere all at once—was nothing more than background noise to him. He didn’t head straight to the podium like the others. He didn’t even glance toward the media room where the PR staff was already adjusting mics, rehearsing questions, and mentally preparing for the media frenzy that was about to unfold.

Because halfway down the hallway—past security guards chatting in hushed tones, past team staff coordinating the next few hours—stood Angel. And in her arms, bundled up in a tiny Burrow jersey that was three sizes too big, was the one person Joe truly wanted to see.

Zariyah.

The moment Joe spotted them, everything else fell away. The weight of the game—the bruising hits, the mounting pressure, the shifting stats—melted off him like old tape. His entire demeanor shifted, his posture lightening. He wasn’t a quarterback right now. He was a dad, and the world had just gotten a whole lot simpler.

“There’s my girl,” he said softly, his voice warm and affectionate, as he jogged the last few steps to them.

Angel smiled as she handed Zariyah over without a word. She didn’t need to say anything; the moment was enough. Joe wrapped her up in his arms, holding her like she was the MVP of the night, his heart swelling with something deeper than pride. Zariyah let out a soft, sleepy squeak, her little hands fluttering as she rubbed her cheek against the soft fabric of his hoodie.

“Tell Daddy he played good,” Angel whispered, her voice teasing but full of love.

Joe chuckled, looking down at Zariyah with a smile that made his eyes light up. She blinked up at him, her eyelids heavy with the drowsiness of a long day, but still holding that quiet authority, as if she knew she ran the show. He pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head, his hand gently rocking her back and forth, swaying as naturally as breathing.

A team rep peeked around the corner, her voice breaking the peaceful silence. “Joe, you ready? They’re waiting.”

Joe didn’t look up right away, his focus still on the tiny bundle in his arms. He gave her a soft, reassuring squeeze before glancing toward the hallway.

“Give me a minute,” he said, his voice firm but kind, as if there was no question in his mind.

The rep nodded, understanding without needing an explanation. At this point, they knew better than to interrupt this moment—the one where Joe wasn’t just the quarterback; he was the dad.

Time felt suspended as Joe continued to sway with Zariyah in his arms. The noise of the locker room—the reporters, the team members, the bustle of a postgame—faded into the background. It was just Joe, Angel, and their daughter.

When he finally stepped into the press room—baby on his hip, bottle in hand, mic in front of him—he didn’t miss a beat. Zariyah sat like a sleepy queen, her tiny head resting against Joe’s shoulder, blinking up at the crowd of reporters and cameras as though she’d been doing it her whole life. The room buzzed with the energy of a thousand questions, but the sight of Joe holding her so naturally, so effortlessly, shifted the focus.

“Sorry for the wait,” Joe said with a smirk, adjusting the tiny Bengals cap on Zariyah’s head. It was way too big for her, but somehow it fit perfectly. “Had to take care of the real postgame interview first.”

A few chuckles rippled through the room as the cameras flashed. It was one of those moments where the usual protocol didn’t apply. The reporters weren’t scrambling for stats or game breakdowns; instead, they were taken by the image of Joe Burrow—the star quarterback, the Super Bowl contender, and, more than anything else, an unapologetic girl dad—holding his baby girl like she was the true victory of the night.

No one cared about the final score, the passing yards, or the highlight reel plays. They were too busy capturing the headline that was already unfolding in front of them: Joe Burrow—MVP, father, and a man whose heart was already home.

And that? That was the win that mattered most.

[honeydippedfiction]

I just know Tee and Ja’Marr argue over who is Zariyah’s favorite uncle, DAILY

They do! One does one thing and the other automatically tries to one up the other as well...

In the Bengals locker room, there's always a little friendly competition—but lately, it's taken a whole new twist. This time, it’s not about who’s got the best hands or who’s faster in drills—it’s all about Zariyah, Joe Burrow and his wife Angel’s 4-month-old baby girl. And the two main contenders for the title of “Favorite Uncle”? None other than Tee Higgins and Ja’Marr Chase.

It started off as some harmless banter during a team flight. Ja’Marr casually mentioned that Zariyah gave him “the biggest smile ever” during a visit to Joe and Angel’s house. Tee wasn’t having it. “Bro, she literally fell asleep in my arms. That’s trust. That’s real love,” he fired back.

Joe just laughed, shaking his head. “Y’all are ridiculous. She’s four months old. She smiles at ceiling fans.”

But that didn’t stop them. Ja’Marr brought a tiny stuffed tiger the next time he visited—"so she remembers who her real favorite is," he claimed. Tee upped the ante with a personalized baby Bengals jersey that read “Uncle Tee” across the back.

Team practices started including little digs between drills.

“Hey Tee, she spit up after you held her last time—coincidence?” “Ja’Marr, she literally stopped crying when I played Baby Shark. That's called influence.”

Even Zariyah’s baby bag became a battleground. One day it had a miniature No. 1 onesie inside (Ja’Marr’s number), and the next it was mysteriously replaced with a No. 5 bib from Tee.

Angel, meanwhile, just sat back and watched the whole thing unfold with a grin. “Honestly, it’s cute. Zariyah has so many uncles who love her already,” she said. “But between you and me, I think she knows how to play them both.”

Joe added, “At the end of the day, I’m just glad she’s surrounded by so much love… but if they start trying to run routes in my living room to impress her, we’re gonna have a problem.”

And as for Zariyah? Well, she just giggles, blows raspberries, and drools on everyone equally. A true diplomat—already taking after her dad. (Her favorite is Sam but don't tell Ja'Marr or Tee that).

[honeydippedfiction]

how did Joe propose? Was it some big thing? Oh and how did he ask Angel to be his girlfriend??

So I hate to break everyone's hearts but both weren't over the top and extravagant. However their engagement was special to them in an extragavent way, you'll see.

Sunsets and Surprises

It was the kind of golden afternoon that coaxed people out of doors, the edge of spring blurring into the full bloom of warmth and promise. The sun hung low in the sky, not quite ready to say goodbye, casting long, honeyed rays across the quiet park nestled near the LSU campus. Everything seemed touched by light—leaves aglow, grass shimmering, and the laughter of two people strolling side by side carried easily on the breeze.

Joe shifted the strap of the cooler slung over his shoulder, glancing sideways at Angel. Her fingers grazed his now and then, soft and familiar, like a note from a favorite song. They’d been walking like that for a while, not in any rush. Their laughter—free, easy, unforced—rippled between them like the lazy wind.

Angel was radiant in a pale yellow sundress that swayed gently around her knees, the color glowing against her warm brown skin. Her curls were tucked into a soft, effortless puff at the crown of her head, a few coils escaping to frame her face. She wore gold hoops—small and simple, but they caught the light just enough to sparkle when she turned her head to laugh. There was something about the way she moved—graceful, grounded, completely herself—that made it hard for Joe to look anywhere else.

This was date number five. But for Joe, it had been circled in his mental calendar for days. He’d planned every detail, not just for the picnic, but for the real reason he’d brought her out here today. He wanted it to feel organic, casual, yet unforgettable. Something simple, yet meaningful. Something that would mark a new beginning.

They found a secluded patch beneath two towering oaks, their branches arcing above like nature’s cathedral. The grass was lush and cool beneath the blanket Joe spread out with practiced ease. He’d packed her favorite: turkey and avocado sandwiches, cut fruit in neat little containers, cold sparkling lemonade, and—because he paid attention—the lemon poppyseed cookies she always bought from the student union café when she was “just passing by.”

Angel flopped down beside him with a contented sigh. “Okay, I officially approve of this spot.”

He grinned, pulling the cooler closer. “Only the best for you.”

They ate slowly, savoring both the food and the unhurried rhythm of conversation. They talked about classes, her roommates, a professor Joe swore was part robot, and whether or not squirrels could feel jealousy. The kind of topics that only come up when two people are completely at ease with each other.

As they finished the last bites, Joe reached into the picnic basket one more time. “Okay, I’ve got one more thing.”

He pulled out two blank canvases, a small set of acrylic paints, and a couple of brushes, still sealed in plastic.

Angel’s brown eyes lit up instantly. “You brought painting stuff?”

Joe rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly a bit shy. “I thought you might like it. You’re always saying it helps you relax.”

She beamed at him, the corners of her mouth lifting into that smile that never failed to undo him. “This is perfect, Joe. Seriously.”

They set up their little art station, sitting cross-legged, leaning over their canvases. Angel moved quickly, confidently, her strokes sweeping across the surface with a kind of quiet joy. She was painting the sunset—burnt orange and blush pink melting together above a silhouette of wildflowers and the long shadows of spring trees. Every so often, she’d glance at the horizon and mix a new shade with a thoughtful hum.

Joe, by contrast, took his time. His strokes were slow and hesitant, more deliberate than fluid. He wasn’t trying to impress her with skill—he had something else in mind. He layered in a soft blue background, letting it dry while he fidgeted with the cap of the red paint. Then, carefully, he painted a heart in the center. Not perfect, not even symmetrical. But bold. Honest. At the bottom, in thick, careful letters, he wrote four words.

Angel finished first, turning her painting toward him with a light laugh. “It’s not done,” she said, examining it critically. “But I kinda love it.”

Joe smiled, nerves beginning to buzz under his skin. “Looks amazing,” he said, then swallowed. “Uh... mine’s a little different.”

He hesitated, then handed her his canvas.

She took it gently, eyes curious. Her gaze dropped to the heart. Then the words.

Will You Be My Girlfriend?

For a heartbeat, everything stilled. The breeze seemed to hush, the world holding its breath.

Angel looked up at him, wide-eyed. Her voice was a whisper, thick with disbelief and emotion. “Wait… are you serious?”

Joe nodded, the edges of his ears turning pink. “Yeah. I mean—yeah. Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”

He chuckled, but there was vulnerability in it. Confidence came easily to him on the field, where plays were scripted and outcomes were stats. But here, with her, beneath the dying light of day, he felt like he was risking everything.

Angel stared at him for a second longer, then broke into a smile that made her eyes glisten. “Joe,” she breathed, “yes. Of course yes.”

Relief flooded him. And joy. The kind that settles deep in your chest and stays there. He leaned in instinctively, and she met him halfway. Their lips touched softly—no fireworks, no grand crescendo—just a quiet moment, tender and true, sealed under the first stars of the evening.

The sun dipped fully below the horizon, leaving behind a sky painted in deep indigos and violet haze. Around them, the world was still. The air hummed with promise. And somewhere between smudged paint and cookie crumbs, beneath the branches of those old oaks, a new chapter quietly began.

Hand in hand. Heart in heart.

y/user posted!

liked by joeyb_9, lahjay10_, jjettas2, monicaaa, and 12,625 others

y/user: lovely life🌞💜

☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ-ˏˋ♥̩͙♥̩̩̥͙♥̩̥̩ ⑅⑅ ♥̩̥̩♥̩̩̥͙♥̩͙ˊˎ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ-ˏˋ♥̩͙♥̩̩̥͙♥̩̥̩ ⑅⑅ ♥̩̥̩♥̩̩̥͙♥̩͙ˊˎ☾

Their Own Movie

It was a quiet Friday evening in Cincinnati, the kind that settled gently over the city like a familiar song—warm, soft, and unassuming. Spring was just beginning to unfurl itself, and the golden light outside hinted at longer days ahead. Inside a cozy downtown apartment, the world seemed to slow down, wrapped in the scent of popcorn and the promise of a peaceful night in.

For Joe and Angel, nights like this had become their sanctuary. After two and a half years together, their relationship had grown into something steady and unshakable, the kind of bond forged not just in grand moments, but in the ordinary ones—early morning coffees, shared silences, and the kind of laughter that comes easy when love runs deep.

Angel had no reason to think this Friday would be any different. To her, it was just another treasured tradition: movie night, blankets tangled around their legs, limbs lazily intertwined as they settled in on the couch. Their favorite comfort flicks were queued up, and her heart felt full in the simple pleasure of his presence beside her.

She had no idea her life was about to change.

Joe, however, had been planning this for weeks—months, really. He wasn’t one to wing it when it mattered, and this moment, to him, mattered more than any game-winning throw. With more help than he’d care to admit (his teammates would never let him live it down), he’d crafted something special. Something just for her.

The lights dimmed as the television flickered to life. Angel leaned into him, letting her head rest against his shoulder. A soft instrumental track played in the background, not quite familiar—but comforting. Then the screen lit up with the first image: the two of them, blurry but unmistakable, from the night they met.

She sat up slightly. “Wait... Is that us?”

A small, knowing smile tugged at Joe’s lips. “Just watch.”

What followed wasn’t a movie, at least not the kind she’d expected. It was their story—stitched together in a delicate montage of moments only they truly understood. The way their hands had brushed for the first time across a cluttered diner table. The impromptu road trip that ended with them laughing under a sky full of stars. Late-night drives with music blasting, her bare feet on the dashboard. The quiet mornings when she’d steal his hoodie and sip coffee in his lap while he half-slept.

With every passing scene, Angel’s expression shifted—smiles breaking into laughter, laughter melting into tears. Her hand found his, gripping it tighter as the reel played on.

Then came the final scene.

The screen transitioned into an animated sketch—adorably exaggerated. A cartoon version of Joe, all in Bengals gear, appeared on screen. He dropped to one knee with dramatic flair, holding a sparkling ring drawn with a little too much dazzle. Then, the animation turned to face the screen and spoke in a cheeky voice:

“It’s time to give your speech! And you better not be nervous, because if you don’t tell that woman—”

Before the cartoon could finish its line, Joe shifted beside her.

“Okay,” he whispered, his voice low and full of feeling. “I can take it from here.”

Angel turned toward him, confused—until she saw that he wasn’t sitting anymore.

He was kneeling.

Time stopped.

Her breath caught in her throat, and her hands flew to her mouth, trembling as realization flooded her. The flicker of the television bathed the room in soft light, casting shadows around them, but all she could see was him.

Joe looked up at her, blue eyes shining with emotion, his voice steady but thick with nerves.

“Angel… before you, I didn’t really understand what people meant when they talked about soulmates. I thought love was supposed to be this big, dramatic thing. But then you came into my life, and it felt… easy. Natural. Like breathing. Like I’d known you long before we ever met.”

He paused, swallowing hard, eyes glistening now as he continued.

“You’ve loved me in ways I didn’t even know I needed. Through the highs—those moments when the world was cheering—and through the lows, when no one saw the weight I was carrying… you did. You always did. You’ve been my quiet in the chaos. My reminder of what’s real.”

He let out a breath, smiling gently. “You know every part of me. The version of me that wakes up grumpy, the one that gets way too into board games, the one that doubts himself late at night. And still, you look at me like I’m something good. Like I’m someone worthy of this kind of love. And Angel, I don't know what I did to deserve that, to deserve you… but I thank God every day that I get to wake up and call you mine.”

His voice wavered as emotion welled in his throat. He took her hands in his, grounding himself in the warmth of her touch.

“You make everything better. You’ve taught me how to slow down, how to be present, how to feel in a world that often tells me to just push through. You laugh at my bad jokes, steal my hoodies, and somehow still look at me like I’m the lucky one. But Angel… I am the lucky one. A thousand times over.”

He reached into his pocket, slowly revealing the ring.

“So I’m asking you, from the deepest place in my heart—will you let me spend the rest of my life trying to make you feel even half as loved as you’ve made me feel every single day since we met? Will you marry me?”

For a moment, there was no sound. Just the hush of awe between two people at the edge of forever.

Angel couldn’t speak. Her head bobbed in a fervent nod, tears spilling freely as her smile broke through the shock. Somehow, she found her voice—barely a whisper, thick with emotion.

“Yes,” she breathed. “Yes.”

Joe rose and pulled her into his arms, holding her close as if he never intended to let go. The movie screen behind them froze on the animated characters—still locked in their goofy proposal pose—but neither of them noticed.

Because in that living room, everything else had faded away.

It wasn’t extravagant or loud. There were no flashbulbs or crowds. Just them. Two hearts, one question, and the quiet magic of a love that had always been meant to last.

And it was perfect.

A/N: I remember seeing this tiktok a looong time ago and i just knew this would fit Angel and Joe when I thought of him proposing.

[honeydippedfiction]

texts w/ LSU!Joe & Angel The D.I.L.F Chronicles Universe

tw: dirty talking (Joe needs to be fixed), humor, swearing, fluff.

• you DO NOT have my permission to copy my work, upload as your own, translate, or repost on any other website •

Bonus: (Ja’Marr & Angel)

[honeydippedfiction]

How did Angel tell Joe they were having a baby? How did they tell their family and friends.

Let's just say telling everyone else went a lot more smoothly and planned than when she told Joe

Angel sat in the kitchen, the soft hum of the refrigerator the only sound in the otherwise quiet house. She stared at the pregnancy test sitting on the counter in front of her, the two lines glaring up at her like a bright, undeniable truth. She wasn’t sure why she was nervous—it was just Joe, after all. But this wasn’t just any piece of news. This was big. Life-changing. And somehow, despite the overwhelming joy bubbling up inside her, she found herself stalling.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to tell him—it was just... how?

She picked up the test, her thumb tracing the edges, wondering what the best way to break the news was. Her thoughts bounced from one idea to the next. Should she make a cute little dinner and slip it into his glass of wine? Too dramatic. Maybe write it on a cake? But the idea of him finding out from a slice of cake seemed too impersonal. Then it hit her.

She couldn’t even explain why this felt like the right idea, but it did.

She grabbed the remote, turned the TV on, and flipped through the channels until she landed on his favorite show—a random rerun of some sports documentary. She set the remote down, looked at the test one last time, and then slipped it carefully into his gym bag, tucked away under a folded sweatshirt. She wasn’t even sure he’d notice it right away.

He was due home any minute.

When she heard the front door click open, her heart jumped into her throat.

“Hey, babe!” Joe called out, his deep voice echoing through the hallway as he dropped his keys on the counter. “You here?”

“Yeah, in the kitchen!” she called back, trying to sound casual, though the nervousness was creeping into her voice.

Joe appeared in the doorway, his expression instantly softening as he saw her. He was still in his workout clothes, a light sheen of sweat on his forehead from the day’s practice. He looked exhausted, but his eyes lit up when he saw her. “Hey, you,” he said, grinning. “What’s up?”

She forced a smile, trying to ignore the anxious knot in her stomach. “Not much. Just waiting for you to come home so we could... talk.”

His grin faltered, the subtle shift in her tone catching his attention. “Talk about what?”

Angel shrugged, trying to play it off. “You know, nothing crazy... Just something I wanted to share with you.”

Joe cocked an eyebrow, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Sounds mysterious. You’re not planning on, like, surprising me with a huge trip to Europe or something, are you? Because I’m not sure I’m ready for that right now.”

She laughed, her nerves easing slightly. “No, nothing that big. Just something a little more... personal.”

He tilted his head, curious now, and walked over to the kitchen table. “Personal? You’re scaring me here.”

Angel couldn’t hold back the laugh that bubbled up. “I’m not trying to scare you, I swear. Just... give me a second.”

She walked over to the counter, grabbed his gym bag, and handed it to him. “I was cleaning out your stuff today, and I found something. You might want to check it out.”

Joe gave her a puzzled look, then shrugged, unzipping the bag. “Alright... what’s in here? Did I leave my headphones again?”

She could see his mind working as he pulled out a few socks, a couple of protein bars, and—finally—his sweatshirt. But then his hand brushed against something hard in the bottom of the bag. He paused, pulling the pregnancy test out with a confused frown. “Uh… what is this?”

He looked up at her, his brows furrowing. “Angel? This is…”

Her heart was in her throat now. “Yeah,” she said, her voice quieter. “It’s positive.”

Joe stood there, staring at the test, blinking as if the words weren’t quite sinking in. The silence stretched between them.

“You’re…” He paused again, as if trying to wrap his mind around what she was saying. “Wait, you’re telling me—”

“I’m pregnant, Joe.” The words were simple, but in that moment, they felt like the most profound thing she’d ever said.

Joe’s hands trembled slightly as he placed the test back down on the counter. He looked at her, then back at the test, then back to her again. His face, usually so composed, was now a mixture of surprise, disbelief, and—she could see it—pure joy creeping in.

He cleared his throat, trying to laugh it off like he hadn’t just had the wind knocked out of him. “Okay... okay, I did notsee that coming.”

Angel stepped closer to him, her heart thundering in her chest. “I didn’t either, honestly. But it’s real, Joe. We’re going to be parents.”

Joe looked at her like he was trying to make sense of the idea, his eyes wide, but his smile slowly spread across his face. “Wait, you’re really pregnant?” He repeated it again, as if saying it out loud would make it sink in. “You’re sure? I mean, not that I’m doubting, it’s just—”

“Yes, I’m sure,” Angel interrupted, laughing, a tear slipping down her cheek without her realizing. “It’s real.”

Joe didn’t say anything else for a moment. He just looked at her, and for a second, Angel thought maybe he was about to freak out, maybe run away or... something.

But then, his face broke into the most genuine, joyful grin she had ever seen. Slowly, he walked over to her, his hands shaking slightly. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a tight hug. She buried her face in his chest, feeling the warmth of his embrace, feeling the weight of everything they were about to face together.

“Holy crap,” Joe whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “We’re gonna be parents... I’m gonna be a dad.”

She squeezed him tighter, her heart swelling with love. “Yeah, you are,” she whispered back. “And you’re going to be the best dad. I just know it.”

Joe pulled back slightly, his hands on her shoulders, looking down at her like she was the most incredible thing in the world. “I’m so glad it’s you,” he said quietly, his voice full of wonder. “We’re gonna figure this out together, right?”

“Together,” Angel repeated softly, a tear slipping down her cheek.

Joe wiped it away gently, his smile never fading. “I don’t care what happens next. As long as it’s with you.”

And in that quiet moment, the world outside didn’t matter. They were just two people, standing in the middle of their kitchen, on the cusp of something that would change everything. Together.

◦•●◉✿✿◉●•◦●∘◦❀◦∘●◦•●◉✿✿◉●•◦●∘◦❀◦∘●

It was a chilly Saturday afternoon when Joe and Angel decided to share their big news with his parents, Robin and Jimmy. They had driven up just for the weekend, and this felt like the perfect time to tell them—together, but in their own special way. The plan was simple: surprise them with a new pair of jerseys that would make them think they were just receiving yet another set of Bengals gear, a common gift for Joe’s family.

Angel had picked out two matching Cincinnati Bengals jerseys—perfect for Robin and Jimmy. But these weren’t just any jerseys. Instead of “Burrow” on the back, they read “Grandpa” and “Grandma”, respectively.

She couldn’t help but grin at the idea of their reactions. It would be a fun surprise, and just the right kind of playful chaos they both loved. After all, Joe and Angel’s relationship was built on spontaneity and humor, so why would telling his parents about the baby be any different?

The moment finally arrived. The four of them stood in the living room of Joe and Angel’s house, the jerseys folded neatly in their hands. Jimmy and Robin looked excited as ever, thinking they were about to pose for a normal photo op. They stood next to Joe and Angel, grinning ear to ear.

"Okay, everyone ready for this?" Angel asked, holding up her phone, ready to snap a picture.

Jimmy, as always, was the first one to strike a pose. "Let’s go, Burrow family!" he said with his classic enthusiasm, already pulling on the jersey like it was just another game day.

Joe smirked, stepping back slightly as he put on his own jersey, looking at Robin and Jimmy. "I think these are gonna look good on you two."

Robin laughed, taking the jersey from Angel. “You know we love our Bengals. This is gonna be perfect for tailgate season.” She slipped it over her head, beaming with pride, not yet noticing the surprise printed on the back.

“Alright, let’s get a good one,” Joe said, positioning everyone for the picture.

Angel adjusted her phone, making sure the lighting was perfect, and then, with a wicked grin, she said, “Okay, now everyone say... ‘Pregnant!’”

There was a pause—a beat of confusion. Robin and Jimmy both tilted their heads, still holding their jerseys proudly, completely oblivious to what was happening.

“Pregnant?” Robin repeated, looking at Angel with a furrowed brow. “What do you mean—?”

But before she could finish her sentence, Angel and Joe’s grins got even wider. The moment clicked, and then, as if in slow motion, Robin’s eyes dropped to the back of her jersey. She saw the word Grandma in bold letters, right above her own last name.

Her breath caught in her throat.

“No... no way,” she whispered, blinking rapidly, her hands slowly lowering the jersey as the realization hit her. She looked at Jimmy in complete shock. “What did she just say?”

Jimmy’s gaze went from Robin to the back of his own jersey. Grandpa. His jaw dropped, his face turning from confusion to utter shock. "Hold on..." His eyes flicked between the jerseys, then up to Joe and Angel, who were standing there, practically glowing with excitement. "You—you’re...?"

Angel couldn’t contain her laughter. “We’re having a baby.”

For a split second, the entire room fell silent as Robin and Jimmy processed what was happening. Then, as if on cue, the gasps started, followed by a collective shout of joy.

“Oh my god!” Robin exclaimed, suddenly pulling both Joe and Angel into a tight hug. "You’re having a baby? This is real?"

Jimmy, still trying to process, let out a breathless laugh. “You’ve got to be kidding me! A baby? I’m going to be a grandpa?”

Angel nodded, laughing at their shock. “It’s true! We wanted to surprise you with something special.”

Jimmy’s eyes shone with excitement as he hugged Angel tightly. “You’re going to be an amazing mom, Angel. And you, Joe—you’re going to be one heck of a dad.”

Robin was still clutching Joe, a few tears in her eyes. “This is the best news ever. We’re going to spoil this baby so much! And Grandma? I’ve got a lot of practice ahead of me, huh?”

Joe laughed, his eyes glistening. “You better believe it. We’re so excited to have you both on this journey with us.”

Robin finally pulled back, still laughing, and turned to Jimmy, holding up the jerseys. “Well, I guess these will be our official game day jerseys now, huh?” she said, grinning.

“Absolutely,” Joe replied with a wink. “You two are officially part of the team.”

The laughter and hugs continued, the energy in the room electric as they all began to process just how much their lives were about to change. Robin and Jimmy couldn’t stop grinning, showing off their new jerseys to the camera like they had just won the Super Bowl.

“Guess I need to get used to this ‘Grandma’ thing, huh?” Robin said, still in disbelief. “And you, Joe, you better make sure you’re ready for this responsibility!”

Joe just smiled, looking at Angel with that familiar, cocky grin. “I think we’re as ready as we can be.”

And as the picture was finally taken, with Robin and Jimmy proudly holding their jerseys—Grandma and Grandpa—Joe and Angel shared a moment of perfect chaos and joy, knowing that this was only the beginning.

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It had been a few weeks since Joe and Angel had shared the big news with his parents, and now it was time to tell Angel’s side of the family. With Angel's parents' anniversary coming up, Joe and Angel decided to make the trip even more special by flying them to Cincinnati. The timing was perfect—Joe had some free days before the beginning of OTAs, and they wanted to do something meaningful to celebrate Angel's parents and, of course, share the exciting news.

Angel’s parents had always been incredibly supportive, and the idea of telling them in person was something Angel had been eagerly waiting for. Since they were already making the trip for their anniversary, Joe and Angel had carefully planned out the evening. A fancy dinner at one of their favorite spots in the city, followed by a surprise reveal that would take their breath away.

When Angel’s parents arrived, they were absolutely thrilled to be in Cincinnati for their anniversary. It was a big treat for them to be able to spend some quality time with their daughter and her boyfriend—who was now, of course, more like family. They were warmly welcomed with hugs and big smiles, and the couple treated them to a wonderful dinner at a charming little bistro, all decked out in anniversary decorations, to celebrate their many years of love and togetherness.

They ate, laughed, and talked about the memories they’d made over the years. The evening had been perfect, and they had a blast hearing about the little moments of Joe and Angel’s life together in Cincinnati. But Angel had one more surprise up her sleeve for the night.

After dinner, they all returned to the house, and Angel and Joe led them to the living room where they’d set up a little gift exchange. The table was neatly arranged with wrapped gifts—two for Angel’s parents, each one carefully chosen with a hint of fun and a big dose of love.

Angel's mom, Linda, was the first to sit down, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "What’s all this?" she asked, the warm glow of the dinner still lighting up her face.

“We wanted to give you both a little something for your anniversary," Angel said, holding out the first gift. "This one’s for you, Mom.”

Linda smiled as she unwrapped the gift—a beautifully scented candle, one of Angel’s mom’s favorites. She gasped when she saw the label on the jar.

"Smells like you're going to be a grandma."

For a moment, there was stunned silence. Linda slowly looked at Angel, then at Joe, her mouth opening in shock. “What did... What does this mean?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly.

Angel and Joe were both grinning ear to ear, and Joe couldn’t help but chuckle as he watched her reaction. “It means we’ve got some exciting news, Mom,” Angel said, her voice warm with affection. “We’re having a baby. You’re going to be a grandma!”

Linda’s eyes went wide, her hands shaking slightly as she turned the candle jar over, reading it again as if it would somehow make more sense. Then, the tears came—slowly at first, then with full force. “I’m going to be a grandma?” she asked in disbelief, her voice cracking with emotion.

She rushed over to Angel, pulling her into a tight hug. “Oh my God, I can’t believe this! I’m so happy, I’m going to be a grandma!” she repeated, her voice full of joy and wonder.

Joe stepped in, giving Linda a big hug. “You’re going to be the best grandma, we just know it.”

Meanwhile, Angel’s dad, Tom, was already eyeing his gift with curiosity. "Alright, now what’s this for me?" he asked, grinning. He was always the jokester of the family, and Angel knew he’d love the playful nature of his gift.

Joe handed him a wrapped box, and with a wink, Angel said, “Here you go, Dad. Hope this fits your new title.”

Tom eagerly tore open the paper, and when he saw what was inside—a new grill apron—his face lit up. It was black, with a large “Grill Master” logo on it, but the real kicker was the additional wording at the bottom: "Promoted to Grandpa."

For a few seconds, Tom was silent. He looked at the apron, then at Joe and Angel, and then back at the apron again, his face blank with surprise. Then, as the realization hit, he burst out laughing, holding it up to his chest.

“Grandpa?” he repeated, his voice full of awe, though the excitement was unmistakable. "I’m grill master and grandpa now? This is wild! And amazing!”

He pulled Angel into a tight hug, spinning her around slightly. “You’re making me a grandpa?! Oh, this is going to be so fun. I can’t wait to teach this kid all my grill secrets.”

Linda, still wiping her tears, walked over to Tom, chuckling as she put her hand on his shoulder. “Looks like we’ve got a whole new chapter ahead of us,” she said, her voice warm with joy. “We’re going to spoil that baby rotten.”

Angel grinned, looking from her mom to her dad. "We’re so excited for you to be a part of this. We can’t wait for you to meet our little one."

Tom gave a mock sigh, “I’m already planning the first barbecue. You think I’m getting the hang of ‘Grandpa’?” he asked, winking at Joe.

Angel laughed, shaking her head. “Dad, you’ve got plenty of time to work on it.”

After a long, emotional hug, everyone sat down, and the conversation shifted to all the plans and dreams they had for the future. Linda and Tom couldn’t stop smiling, basking in the joy of being on the receiving end of such a precious announcement.

“We’re so proud of you two,” Linda said, holding the candle close to her chest as she beamed. “This is the best gift we could have ever gotten.”

Angel’s heart swelled with love. There was nothing like seeing the faces of the people she loved the most, reacting with pure joy at the news that was going to change all their lives forever.

And as the evening wound down, with laughter and excited chatter filling the room, Joe and Angel couldn’t help but feel incredibly lucky. They were surrounded by family, love, and a whole new chapter of their lives that had only just begun.

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​​The plan for revealing the big news to their friends had to be perfect. Joe and Angel had always enjoyed game nights with their close friends, so what better way to break the news than during one of their usual hangouts? This time, however, they had a little twist in mind. A simple game of Uno, but with a surprise waiting to be uncovered by one of their unsuspecting friends.

They had custom-designed a special Uno card to give the ultimate reveal—a card that was playful, unexpected, and full of chaos, just like their personalities. On one side, it simply read, “New player entering the game,” with a cartoon baby face on it. On the other side, “Adding a new player to the team,” with a baby onesie that had “Coming 2024” printed on it.

The night started like any other game night, with everyone gathered around the table, drinks in hand and laughter filling the air. Sam Hubbard’, was making jokes about how competitive Joe could be, and Ja'Marr was already teasing Joe about how he never seemed to lose at Uno, always playing the perfect cards.

Angel and Joe exchanged a look across the table, both of them barely able to hold back their excitement. They'd spent the last couple of hours keeping it all under wraps, enjoying the normalcy of the evening, but now it was time.

The cards were shuffled and dealt, and everyone was settling into the game, casually playing their hands, chatting, and throwing in a little smack talk here and there. As the game unfolded, they felt the energy in the room shift slightly—the anticipation mounting as they neared the moment when one of their friends would unknowingly pull the revealing card.

It wasn’t long before Ja'Marr, always the confident and carefree player, picked up his card and, without a second thought, slammed it down onto the table.

“Wild card! I’ll change the color to red,” Ja'Marr said, not even looking at the card properly, thinking it was just a typical Uno wild card. The group nodded, some of them grumbling about how he was always so fast with his plays.

But then, Jess, Sam Hubbard's fiancee, who was sitting next to him, leaned over to look at the card in confusion. Her eyebrows furrowed as she read the words written on the back, and her eyes went wide.

"Wait... hold on," she said, her voice suddenly sharper than usual. She looked down at the card again, then at everyone at the table, her hand trembling slightly as she pointed at the card in Ja'Marr’s hand. “This isn’t a wild card.”

The room froze. Jess’s gasp drew every eye in the room, and for a moment, no one moved, unsure of what had just happened.

“What? What’s wrong?” Sam asked, squinting at the card.

Angel and Joe exchanged a quick, knowing glance, trying to suppress their grins. They’d been waiting for this moment for what felt like forever.

Jess blinked in disbelief and then read the text aloud. “'Adding a new player to the team’... with a baby onesie?” Her voice wavered as she turned the card around, revealing the cartoon baby face, and then she read the back out loud. “Coming 2024.”

Silence. The group was frozen for a heartbeat before chaos erupted.

“Wait, hold up—what?” Ja'Marr said, staring at the card, his expression quickly morphing from confusion to shock. He turned to Joe and Angel, eyes wide. “Is this... is this a joke?”

Jess was already jumping up from her seat, hand over her mouth. "Are you serious?! You two are—you're having a baby?!"

Angel’s grin finally broke free as she nodded, unable to contain her excitement. “Yeah! We’re having a baby. We thought this would be a fun way to tell you all.”

The whole room exploded into cheers and laughter. Tee's eyes were wide in disbelief. “What?! Joe, you’re gonna be a dad?” He slapped Joe on the back, shaking his head in amazement. “I don’t even know how to process this. This is insane!”

Ja'Marr let out a loud laugh, standing up and pointing at Joe. “Man, I’m gonna have to teach this kid how to ball when they’re old enough!” He pulled Joe into a tight hug, making everyone laugh even harder. “But seriously, this is amazing! Congratulations!”

It was like a floodgate of joy had opened. Everyone was up from their seats, hugging, laughing, and throwing playful jabs at Joe about his soon-to-be role as a dad.

Jess, still in a bit of shock, turned to Angel and wrapped her arms around her. “This is the best news ever. You guys are going to be the best parents. I’m so happy for you two!”

The whole table was buzzing with excitement as they each took turns hugging Angel and Joe. “A baby?! Man, we need to throw a party!” Sam exclaimed, already planning ahead. “You know I’m gonna spoil this kid, right?”

Angel laughed, shaking her head. “We might need a few extra hands on deck for that, Sam. You know how this group gets.”

As the excitement started to die down a bit, everyone returned to the game, but the energy in the room had shifted to something even more electric. They were all buzzing with excitement, throwing out congratulations, asking questions, and joking about what kind of uncle or aunt they were going to be. And, of course, they couldn’t help but joke about how the baby would probably be better at Uno than any of them, considering the way Joe always managed to win.

The night continued with laughter, playful teasing, and plenty of “pregnancy advice” from the group—though Angel and Joe were more than happy to let their friends have fun with it. And as they wrapped up the evening, the feeling of love and excitement filled the room, knowing that this group of friends was now part of a new chapter in their lives.

“Thanks, everyone,” Angel said, her voice full of gratitude. “We’re so glad we could share this moment with all of you. Can’t wait for you to meet the little one!”

As the night came to an end, everyone was still smiling, knowing that this was just the beginning of a brand-new adventure. And one thing was certain—they were going to be there for Angel and Joe every step of the way, supporting them as they prepared to welcome their little one into the world.

[honeydippedfiction]

Y’all CANNOT tell me this wouldn’t be Joe and Zariyah. Oh my god😭😭

[honeydippedfiction]

can we know more about Angel? I just know she’s a big reader

Don't get her started, she loooves a good smutty romance novel or even a cheesy cowboy one.

She loves horror movies or anything spooky (despite Joe's wariness).

She has a few tattoos. (A drunken game of dare or die lead to her getting Joe's initials when they were first together at LSU, boy nearly jumped her when he seen it).

She had an emo phase in high school. The hair- dyed and cut. Piercings? Yup; septum, both nostrils, & snake bites. (Joe still hasn't seen any photos and she swears he never will in his life).

She played volleyball all throughout middle school until she graduated University, she also did competitve cheerleading.

She's just as competitive if not more than Joe.

She's quiet but don't take that for being scared, she'll drag somebody real quick (ask this girl back at LSU about it).

She is a biter. Joe has grown used to it by now, she just can't help herself and it doesn't help that her husband looks the way he does.

Her and Casamigos do not mix! She will turn into a completely different person.

She has a semi dark sense of humor.

She's the one who gave Joe the idea to change his hair (Slim Shiesty).

She loves longhorns (not the team) and those one fluffy cows (i'm too lazy to look up the name).

She knows Joe hates zoos but she tries to convince him to go just so she can see the otters or penguins.

She only lets Joe help her cook if he can keep his hands to himself (which is never).

She loves Spirit Halloween, Joe swears he has to keep her on a leash or else she would buy the whole store.

She likes pulling pranks on Joe as well (scaring him, nerf battles, you name it). They have an ongoing battle to this day with water guns.

She likes to vent her emotions through music sometimes (that one scene in Lilo & Stitch with Lilo and the record player, that's Angel).

She has read fanfics of Joe and shown him (he has never blushed so hard in his life at some of the words she's read aloud to him).

Likes to call Joe grandpa or old man.

She originally went to school to be a paramedic (she is licensed just not practicing).

She has dibble dabbled with girls before, she's pansexual and very open about it.

When she can't sleep she'll watch First 48 or random stuff on YouTube. (Joe has been scared awake by sirens from COPS multiple times). Or she'll go sit on their backyard swing looking at the stars.

Her and Ja'Marr argue (jokingly) about who has Joe's heart.

Loves to do puzzles, any kind.

Back to her piercings, now she only has her lobes, belly button, and nips.

Loves building legos with Joe.

Their fridge is always stocked with Sunny D because she hates the taste of actual orange juice.

She taught Joe about the Cranberry and Pineapple juice secret.

A bottomless pit when it comes to food.

[honeydippedfiction]

does Joe or Angel ever get jealous?

They're pretty solid and confident in their relationship, so no not really (not as much as they used to back when they were in college, lord they were unbearable back then).

Angel does love to tease Joe by saying "There's your girlfriend" or "I seen your girlfriend today" whenever she wants just to mess with him.

Joe does the same whenever they're watching a movie with Cillian Murphy, Pedro Pascal, or Jeff Goldblum in it. (Angel actually met Pedro once and let me tell you when she got home to Joe and would not shut up about him... Miss Ma'am could not remember her own name for a few hours once Joe was done with her)

[honeydippedfiction]

so we all know Joe partakes in some of the devils lettuce, does wifey too or does Joe keep it away from her

It doesn’t bother her. She couldn’t really partake in college bc of her doing her Journalism interning, she did in high school during breaks. They both agreed to keep it to a minimum because of Zariyah, but during the off-season they might take some edibles or smoke when Zariyah stays the weekend with Joe’s parents for some grandparents/grand baby time. Overall wifey doesn’t care if Joe smokes

[honeydippedfiction]

stop he calls her Angel??? I would fall out. Anyways, you mentioned that wifey/Angel is a Sports Interviewer? Does she work for the NFL or does she cover other sports?

She covers the NBA, before that she was doing UFC/MMA. (During the off season for the NBA she'll help out the ESPN desk for the NFL but not a lot).

[honeydippedfiction]

Angel is pan???? I love her even more (not that this would’ve changed anything. Miss Icon idc)

Yes she is! And very outspoken about it plus being an advocate for the LGBTQ+ community (obvi). But yes Angel is pansexual