caroline!

Pairing: Joe Burrow x Reader

Warnings: 18+ / Smut

Description: It's been exactly a year since the Bengals Super Bowl appearance against the Rams. This fic is traveling back in time to 2/13/22 to relive some of those moments, both good and bad.

Location: Bengals Super Bowl after-party at Pauley Pavilion on the UCLA campus (with a few flashbacks to SoFi Stadium).

A/N: I'm in my Super Bowl feels and decided to churn out a little something to make me feel better. Fair warning: The smut is smutting. There's a 99% chance I'm going to write a part 2 for this, but it'll be a minute (more like a month) since I'm slow as hell.

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You take a sip of your margarita, throwing occasional glances at the stage where your man is singing and half-ass gyrating with Kid Cudi.

"This marg is kinda weak," your best friend announces. "Like lime kool-aid with a tiny splash of tequila."

"Yeah, it sucks," you nod in agreement, rolling your shoulders before thinking back over the past several hours.

The Super Bowl did not go the way you wanted. The temperature was 82 degrees at kick-off, second hottest on record. "This ain't football weather!" seemed to be the battle cry of the Bengals fans in your section at SoFi Stadium. It all went down hill from there. The o-line couldn't block for shit, serving Joe up on a platter for a Super Bowl record 7 sacks and a ton more pressures and hits. You shake your head when you remember how scared you were on that one really awful hit. With 11:38 left in the game, Joe was absolutely hammered to the ground, immediately grabbing his good knee and grimacing in pain. You held your breath until he finally got to his feet and limped off the field, refusing medical treatment. You held your breath on every play after that as well, absolutely terrified that he would get another gruesome injury like he did in his rookie season.

"Hey, you want another crappy drink?" Your bestie's voice pulls you out of your anxious recollection for a second. "Uhhh, yeah. Thanks." She nods her head and waves the bartender over as you slide back down memory lane.

Even with everything that went wrong, the Bengals still damn near won the game. It took a sketchy holding call with less than 2 minutes left to win it for the Rams. "Fuck 'em," you whisper, taking a sip of your fresh drink as you think about the look on Joe's face as you greeted him briefly in the tunnel after the game. You bite your lip when you think of the pain in his eyes.

"This drink is stronger," your bestie chirps, giving you a thumbs up as the music hits a crescendo before slowly grinding to a halt as Kid Cudi's set ends. "Much stronger," you smile, taking another sip while searching the stage for Joe; he knew where you were -- on the far back wall at the makeshift bar -- so you knew he'd eventually make his way to you.

You continue to sip your drink as your best friend chatters in your ear. "This is kind of a weird place to have an after-party," she states. "What's it called again?"

"Pauley Pavilion," you answer. "It's really close to where they guys are staying."

"Cool," she says, swaying in her seat to the fairly subdued DJ set that's just started up. "Are they gonna have another live set?" she asks, "or just this DJ stuff?"

"I'm not sure. I guess we'll find out in a bit." You pat her leg and give her a smile. "I'm glad you're here with me, Gina."

"Me too," she grins, looking around at the other folks posted up at the bar. "Doesn't seem like very many WAGS came."

"They're mostly up front by the stage."

"Oh, that makes sense."

You take another sip of your cocktail before letting your mind wander a bit.

You didn't want to come to the after-party, but you knew you needed to support Joe who really didn't want to come. When he'd locked eyes with you in the tunnel at SoFi, your stomach dropped at the look on his face. You were devastated for him, but you were also really glad he seemed to be in one piece, even though he was slightly favoring his 'good' knee. You'd waited for him to greet his parents before stepping forward to hug him. "I love you," you'd murmured against his sweaty neck, feeling his arms tighten around you as he returned the sentiment. His eyes were glassy as he stepped back and captured your gaze. "You're still coming to the after-party, right?" he'd asked, grimacing for a second while shifting his weight onto his hurt knee before quickly shifting it back. You'd dodged the question. "How's your knee?" He'd shrugged. "Prob just sprained. I'll get an MRI when we get back home."

You smile to yourself when you remember him leaning down until his nose was almost touching yours.

"Babe, I need you to focus. Are you coming to the after-party?" You'd grinned at his bossy tone. "Yes, sir. Your parents aren't coming, but Gina is coming with me. I need to stop by the airbnb first to shower and change clothes. I'm sweaty and gross." He'd given you a quick kiss. "You're never gross," he'd whispered, waving to a team employee who was trying to get his attention. "Gotta go," he'd said, slowly backing away from you. "Text me when you get to the party."

You sigh as a loud burst of laughter pulls you back to the present. A few seconds later, you almost jump off of your barstool when you feel a big hand squeeze your shoulder then slide under your long hair to rest on your neck. "What the hell?" you snap, throwing a nasty look at the offender before realizing it's Joe. "Oh shit, Joe, you scared the hell out of me," you laugh, pressing a hand over your racing heart. "I thought you were some strange perv." He grins at the look on your face. "Nope, just a familiar perv," he teases, giving you a wink. "Good game, Joe," Gina chirps, smiling when Joe makes a stank face. "I thought y'all should've won." Joe heaves a sigh and shrugs his shoulders. "It is what it is," he mumbles, giving Gina a smile to soften his abrupt words.

You squirm in your seat as Joe shifts his gaze back to you, giving you a slow up-and-down look while licking his lips. "I like your outfit," he says, reaching a hand out to finger the slinky fabric of your mini skirt. "Thanks," you whisper, glad you'd opted for the flirty circle skirt paired with a white v-neck tee, cognac leather knee boots and a matching lightweight leather jacket.

Joe leans in close. "I've got something to show you."

"Okay," you grin, giving him an expectant look.

He shakes his head. "Not here. It's behind the stage."

"Oh," you mutter, your eyes going wide at the wicked look on his face. "I can't leave Gina by herself," you say weakly.

He gives you a soothing smile before looking at Gina. "I'll bring her back in like 30 minutes, okay? Just stay here and don't move."

"No prob," Gina says, taking a loud slurp of her cocktail while giving you a knowing smirk. "Take your time."

"C'mon," Joe orders, grabbing your hand and pulling you through the throng of people, keeping his head down so he won't be recognized. You follow close behind, breathing a sigh of relief when you eventually find yourself in a mostly-empty hallway just behind the stage. "Where are we?" you whisper, eyes going wide as Joe opens a door and ushers you into a pitch-black room. "It's a storage room," he answers, flipping the light switch before locking the door. He turns to face you, the bare lightbulb hanging from the ceiling providing just enough light to see his heated look. He strips his jacket off as you take a quick glance at your surroundings -- mostly boxes stacked up against the walls. You toss your purse on top of a large box quickly followed by your jacket, licking your lips in anticipation as Joe closes the distance between you.

"How did you find this place?" you giggle.

"I asked one of the security guys if there was a private room I could use."

"Wait," you whisper. "What if he hid a camera in here?" Joe stops in his tracks and looks around the room before looking back at you. "Shit, can't risk that," he mutters, his voice husky with desire tinged with disappointment.

Damn, you think to yourself, trying hard to keep your own disappointment from showing. Joe takes in the look on your face and quickly makes a decision. "We don't need light," he states, placing his big hands on your waist and lifting you up and to the side before setting you down in front of a stack of boxes. He takes a few steps back and tilts his head. "Back up a little," he directs, giving a thumbs up when you take a couple steps back, your ample ass hitting about halfway up the top box. "Perfect," he murmurs, turning on his heel and striding toward the door, locking eyes with you as he reaches for the light switch. "You done manhandling me?" you laugh. "Just getting started," he growls, something primal flashing in his eyes before he flicks the switch, plunging the room into complete darkness.

You blink your eyes a few times, trying and failing to make out his shape in the pitch-black room. "Uhhhh, Joe? Where are you?"

"Right here," he answers, not more than a foot away from you. You reach both hands out and encounter his muscular chest, flattening your palms against him as he slowly closes the distance between you, backing you up against the stack of sturdy boxes. You feel the heat radiating off of him and smell his scent -- clean with a hint of spice. "It's so dark," you whisper, your pulse rate kicking into overdrive when you feel him drop a kiss on your neck. "Totally dark," he purrs, latching his lips onto your sensitive skin and sucking hard enough to leave a mark. You whimper at the delicious sensation, suddenly aware of how loud you sound in the semi-silence.

"Are they gonna play more live music or just this half-ass DJ stuff?" you whisper, jumping as the next live set starts up. You feel Joe's gruff laugh against your neck. "Now we can be as loud as we want," he murmurs, sucking hard on the delicate flesh just behind your ear.

You close your eyes as he continues to tease you. You can feel the heavy bass from the speakers vibrating up through your legs, syncing up with the throbbing pulse beating in your chest … your neck … between your thighs. You slide your hands from his chest down to his waist and pull him closer, biting your lip as he cuffs his long fingers around your wrists, squeezing hard enough to make you gasp before slowly running his hands up your bare arms. "You have chill bumps," he whispers. "Are you cold?"

"No, I'm burning hot," you moan, a little embarrassed at how needy you sound. There's a pause in the music. You hold your breath and count 2 - 3 - 4 before you viscerally feel the beat drop; a moment later Joe's lips crash down on yours, zero finesse just pure need. You grab his shoulders and hold on as he devours your mouth, his tongue thrusting and tangling with yours to the sultry, thumping beat.

After a minute, you taste the metallic tang of blood just before Joe breaks the kiss. "That's my blood," he breathes. "Sorry. Forgot my lip got busted during the game."

"Does it hurt?" you whisper.

"No. But you're probably grossed out by . . ."

Before he finishes his sentence, you cup a hand behind his neck and pull him back down, sliding your tongue in his mouth as his throaty groan vibrates against your lips. You reach your other hand down to his crotch, sliding your thumb up and down his prominent erection through his jeans several times before flicking the button open and lowering the zipper. You grab his waistband and give a tug, groaning in frustration when he places his big hands over your much smaller ones, stopping the downward progress of his jeans. "I need you in my mouth," you whine, going completely still when you feel his lips nestled against your ear. "Ladies first," he purrs, nipping your earlobe while sliding a hand under your skirt to cup your lace-covered crotch. You feel liquid heat flood your core as he grinds the heel of his hand against your clit. "So wet for me, baby," he groans. "I need to taste you." He gives your earlobe another nip before dropping to his knees at your feet.

You reach down and place your hands on his shoulders, trying to steady yourself in the sea of darkness. I feel like I'm floating, you think to yourself, squeezing your eyes closed when you feel his hands slide under your skirt, long fingers grasping your thong before slowly pulling it down. You grab a handful of your skirt and pull it up, tucking it into your waistband to give him easier access. You steady your hands on his shoulders again, breathless with anticipation for what's to come.

"Shit," Joe grumbles, making your eyes fly open. "What is it?" you ask, looking down as if you can actually see what's going on. "Panties are stuck on your boot zipper," he gripes, trying to delicately untangle the thong for several seconds before giving up. "Fuck it," he growls, ripping the scrap of lace in half and tossing it to the side. "Spread your legs for me," he orders, purring in approval when you widen your stance. You feel his hot breath on your crotch and you bite your bottom lip, bracing yourself for the feel of his mouth on your bare skin.

A second passes … and then another. You feel like you're on a roller coaster, inching up the last few feet of track before plunging over a steep drop; your body is already anticipating the fall, craving that out-of-control feeling but held back by his hesitation. You look down into the inky blackness, the sound of your hammering pulse beating in your eardrums louder than the music pulsating through the wall behind you.

You gasp his name when you finally feel him press a kiss against your clit, your core clenching hard as he follows the kiss with a delicate puff of breath. "Please?" you beg, digging your fingers into his shoulders as he licks a long swipe up your slit before plunging inside, no more teasing, just tongue-fucking you with deep, steady strokes.

He eventually drags his tongue up to your clit, teasing you with delicate licks followed by harder sucks until you're begging for release. "Don't stop!" you whine, biting your bottom lip when he slides two fingers into your slick heat, curling them to bullseye your sweet spot. You make a noise that's half-moan half-scream as your climax hits, hissing in pleasure as he continues to tease you. "My legs are gonna collapse," you whimper. "I've got you," he soothes, his hands gripping your waist to hold you up as you gasp for air.

After taking a minute to catch your breath, you slide your hands on top of his and remove them from your waist. "My turn," you whisper, dropping to your knees, hitting the floor a lot harder than you meant to. Gonna have bruises, you think to yourself, reaching forward as you hear Joe stand up and push his jeans and underwear down. His cock feels hot and heavy in your hands as you circle your thumb over the velvety head, sliding the precum in concentric circles before replacing your thumb with your tongue. You tease him with delicate licks and sucks before running your tongue up and down the length of his shaft, peeking up at him through your long lashes before you remember he can't see you. You usually maintain eye contact when sucking him, knowing it drives him crazy; but here in the absolute darkness you're able to focus on the feel and the smell and the taste of him.

You close your eyes and open your mouth, taking him about halfway in before stopping, teasing him a bit before taking him deep. You both groan when his tip brushes the back of your throat, and you push forward, knowing you're gonna gag but needing to take him deeper. You feel your eyes start to water as Joe places a big hand on the back of your head, his deep voice murmuring filthy praise as you worship his thick cock. Your core contracts at the slightly musky smell of him, causing you to moan. You hear Joe hiss at the added sensation, his hand fisting in your hair as you moan again, tracing the prominent vein on the underside of his cock with your tongue. "That's so good, baby," he grits out, "but I wanna cum in your tight little cunt."

You pull off of his cock just as he reaches down and hooks both hands under your armpits; he easily lifts you up, purring his approval as you wrap your legs around his waist, his cock already buried deep inside you before he sets your ass on the storage box behind you. You grab onto his shoulders and hold on for the ride as he immediately starts thrusting; you throw your head back, hitting it against the wall. Ouch! you think briefly before losing yourself to the sensation of Joe's thick cock pounding into you.

There's a brief break between songs, and you're captivated by the luscious sound of your flesh slapping together before the next song starts. Joe immediately gets into the rhythm of the new song, rolling his hips forward to the beat in a way that causes your eyes to roll back in your head. Shock waves of pleasure shoot up your spine with each hard thrust and you feel the delicious tension building deep inside you.

He leans down and presses kisses on your chin and your cheek before finally hitting your lips. He catches your whimpers and moans in his mouth before sliding his tongue inside, groaning when you give it a hard suck. "So hot tasting my pussy on your tongue," you moan against his slick lips, sucking his tongue back in your mouth then gasping when his next thrust bottoms out. "Jesus," he hisses, sliding a hand between your bodies to rub your clit as his hips snap forward. "I'm close," he grits out, his breath catching in his throat as your climax hits; he gives two more hard thrusts then follows you over the edge.

You suck air into your lungs as fast as possible, more than a little lightheaded in the aftermath of your mind-blowing orgasm. You hear Joe gasping for breath and smile into the darkness. At least he's just as wrung out as me, you think to yourself.

"You okay?" he finally wheezes, his breath warm on your neck.

"Yeah, aside from the bruised knees and cracked skull."

"Cracked skull?" he asks, running his hand over the back of your head.

"I'm exaggerating," you chuckle, moaning as he massages your scalp with his nimble fingers. "I bumped my head on the wall."

"Did you hit it hard? Why didn't you say something?" he asks, the concern in his voice making you smile.

"Because I was getting railed by this tall, hot stud with a perfect cock and I didn't want that to stop."

"Fair enough," he chuckles.

"How's your knee?" you ask.

"Just fine," he mutters, pulling up his underwear and jeans. "Sorry I was a little rough."

"You were amazing," you sigh, clinging onto him as he lifts you off the box and sets you on your feet. "Damn, my legs are shaky," you laugh as you sway against him; he holds you for a minute, giving your legs time to get decently steady.

"You good?" he finally whispers, dropping a kiss on your forehead.

"Yeah."

"Stay right here," he says. "I'm gonna go turn on the light.

"Okay." You untuck your skirt and let it fall back down your thighs. "Who knew having sex in a pitch-black room on a stack of boxes while almost fully dressed could be such a sensual experience?" you muse, locking eyes with Joe when he flicks the light back on. He smiles and gives you a wink. "Everything with you is a sensual experience."

"Thanks, babe," you say before pointing at the floor. "Are those my shredded panties?" He makes a sheepish face while scooping up the scraps of lace. "I got a little carried away," he mutters, eyes going wide as he looks at the ruined tiger-striped thong. "Oh no! These are my favs," he whines, looking at you with a pouty face. "Relax, I have another pair at home just like them," you soothe. "Plus, I can always order more." He nods his head as he grabs his jacket and stuffs the thong remnants in a pocket. "Order like 50 of 'em," he demands.

"Yes, sir," you laugh, digging in your purse for your pack of wet wipes and a fresh pair of panties. You quickly reach under your skirt to give your crotch a wipe before gingerly stepping into the panties. You hear Joe chuckle and you shoot him a glance, noting that he's staring at the ceiling with a wistful smile on his face. "What are you thinking about?" you ask, pulling a compact out to touch up your smeared eye make-up.

He rolls his shoulders a few times before meeting your gaze. "I'm thinking … the bad news is I lost the Super Bowl. But the good news is I made an amazing memory that'll last a lifetime."

"Being onstage with Kid Cudi?" you ask.

"What?" he furrows his brow. "Oh yeah, that too, but I was talking about this," he says, waving a hand toward you. "Sex in total darkness was crazy intense," he continues, a dirty smile gracing his pretty lips. "Maybe we should get some blackout curtains for our bedroom so we can recreate it every now and then."

"Sounds good," you agree, tossing the used wipes in a trash can and returning his smile as you walk toward him. "I also think you'd look really hot in a blindfold," you tease, giggling when his eyebrows shoot upward. "Ohhhh yeah, that sounds good," he mutters, his active imagination already conjuring up dirty visuals.

"Now that I think about it," you continue, "why haven't I had you in a blindfold in all the years we've been together?"

He gives you a cocky smirk. "Cause I'm a bossy motherfucker who likes to call the shots in bed?"

You roll your eyes. "Oh yeah, that's why." You watch him for a few seconds, grinning at the blissed-out look on his face as he stares into the distance. "I'm ready to go," you say, breaking into his fevered musings.

"Hold on," he sighs, closing his eyes. "I'm still imagining that blindfold action."

You shake your head at him. "We just had sex and you're already thinking about it again?"

"Obvs," he chuckles. "It's your fault for being so damn hot." He grabs the doorknob then pauses. "Listen, I wanna say something," he states, turning to face you.

"Okay."

"You see this smile on my face?"

"Yeah."

"You did that. On the shittiest day of my life, you made me smile." He leans down and presses a lingering kiss against your lips. "You make everything better," he continues, his voice cracking a bit as he pulls you into a tight hug. You feel your eyes well with tears as you return his hug. "I love you," you whisper, blinking hard to keep the tears from falling. "Love you, too," he sighs, burying his face in your neck while you run your fingers through his hair to soothe him.

After several minutes he takes a deep breath, inhaling your scent before standing up and locking eyes with you. You wipe a stray tear as it slides down your cheek, searching his face to gauge his mood. He wipes a tear off his cheek and gives a pitiful sniff before speaking.

"So you gonna do the blindfold thing for me tonight?" he croaks, deftly jumping back as you swing your purse at him, just missing. "Boy, you're giving me emotional whiplash!" you snap. "Crying one minute and horny the next!"

"I've been horny the whole time!" he argues. "The gratitude and the love and the tears just bubbled up on top of the horniness!"

He delivers that last line with such an earnest expression that you can't help but laugh. You take several deep breaths before speaking. "Listen," you sigh, running a hand through your hair. "When you finally get home tonight -- probably around 7:30 or 8:00 -- you're gonna be dead tired. You're gonna want to eat dinner and crash not get your freak on."

"But it's Valentine's Day," he pouts, poking his plump bottom lip out for maximum sympathy. You check your watch. "It's well past midnight, so it's been Valentine's Day for a while." You gesture at the stack of boxes y'all had used and abused. "That dirty little romp should count as our V-Day action." He's already shaking his head before you finish your sentence. "Absolutely not!" he argues. "That was post-Super-Bowl-loss sex. No way that counts for V-Day."

"We'll see," you mutter, kind of surprised at how adamant he's being. "Right now I need to know what you want for dinner? I'll get home a couple hours before you, so I'll have plenty of time to make us a nice meal."

He gives you a cheeky look. "I want the blindfold."

"Babe, I need you to focus," you snap, echoing his words from earlier. You point a finger in his face. "When you get home tonight what do you want to eat?" He gives you a wicked grin and opens his mouth to answer; you quickly press a finger against his lips. "Don't say pussy," you order, smiling when he heaves a dramatic sigh. "Way to kick a man when he's down," he grumbles. "Oh hush," you chuckle. "I just want to make sure you get a good meal and get tucked into bed, with or without a blindfold."

"With," he insists, grinning at the exasperated look on your face. "Listen, I know I'm gonna be tired, so you'll have to do most of the work. Are you okay with that?" he asks, giving you a pleading look that you can't say no to.

"Do I get to call all the shots?" you ask.

"You can call most of the shots," he states, sinful lips curling up in a smile as you narrow your eyes at him. He gives you a dirty wink before continuing. "I mean, I've got a few ideas."

"Oh, you've got a few ideas?" you snark, rolling your eyes as you reach for the door handle. "Why does that not surprise me?"

He shrugs and gives you an innocent look.

"Bossy. Mother. Fucker." you say fondly, shaking your head as you sling the door open, giggling when Joe gives your ass a playful smack.

summary; he's quite the hypocrite

warnings; joe still is an asshole what'd y'all expect, swearing, this is the stupidest argument but i would act like this too fr, the pettiest duo ever ong

word count; 900-ish

notes; ughhh i missed frat!lsu!joey so much omg. one of the few fics being posted as a thank-you for 400 followers! pls someone notice how they react similarly to each other with their actions when frustrated

This year, like the few before, Joe had convinced you to come to both of his frat's formals, for you it was a win-win, getting to dress up all pretty and seeing him all cleaned up in his fancy suit. He kept his arm secured on your hip, and both of you stepped out catching the eyes of everyone in the room, per usual.

Boredom has slowly settled in over the span of the few hours you've been here, staring at your nails and chatting with the extremely energetic girlfriends and dates of his fraternity brothers could only hold your interest for so long. "Can we go up to the room yet?" You mumble, trying not to make your growing impatience too obvious, and leaning into him with a pout present on your pretty face.

"Soon, babe," his response is short, obviously just trying to shut you up. You sigh, clicking your tongue, murmuring under your breath about going to get a drink. He barely has paid any attention to you at all tonight, nor did he say anything about the dress he ditched you to go shopping for alone. He swore up and down that he would take you to the mall, and you'd choose something together, but he opted out at the very last minute, simply venmoing you the cash for it.

It takes a lot out of you just to not scream at him to acknowledge your existence for two damn seconds, but no. Everyone, but you seemed to keep his attention this entire time. Your jaw is set tight as you fish your phone from your purse, finding yourself sitting alone and scrolling on your feed aimlessly as Joe continues to socialize.

Time passes slowly, but midnight's creeping up, you remember you both have a keycard on you which prompts you to slip out of the dining hall completely. As you make your way up to your floor you decide a text will suffice, maybe he'll see it, maybe he won't, and it's not your problem anymore.

angel🌟: i went back up.

Before you thought it couldn't get any worse, he somehow managed to piss you off even further. Read 11:54. May the Lord be on his side, that's one thing he never did to you, he knows exactly how you feel about that, you even went as far as to turn his read receipts off to avoid this feeling.

In the time it takes him to finish doing whatever the hell he's been doing all evening, you'd changed, gotten out of your makeup, and were tucked under the cover tightly. Assuring your back was turned to him as he made his way in and kicked his shoes off, "D'you have fun?" His question is followed by a long beat of silence, but he just assumes you're asleep and says nothing else.

After just a few short minutes of him entering the in-suite, he returns in an old t-shirt and basketball shorts. When he climbs into bed behind you and pulls you in close, you stiffen, making his grasp loosen significantly, "Were you like, intentionally ignoring me all night?" His brows crease and for a minute he just opens his mouth like a fish out of the water as he searches for an actual reason for the lack of interaction between the two of you.

"Not intentionally," he responds quickly to get you to be quiet for what seems to be the hundredth time today. The last thing you want is to be treated like the various girls whose feelings he plays with for his own amusement. Still, after tonight, you're severely lacking the cognitive ability to go back and forth with him tonight.

Your silence catches his attention, making the scrolling he was going on his phone come to a halt, "Are you gonna say anything?" In your head, you're screaming at him about how you're feeling, to say more than two words a sentence to you, but to possibly tick him off you bite your tongue and settle for a smartass reply.

A stifled laugh breaks the tension in the hotel room, followed by a snarky response, "Nothing to say." That does him in. Ironically being treated in the same way he treats others, receiving a taste of his own medicine. He slams his phone down on the bedside table, "I'm talking to you now and you're being short with me," another laugh escapes you at his hypocrisy and simply how childish he's acting right now.