#duranhq

When Jarren finally introduced you to the guys, they welcomed you with open arms and took you into their world instantly. You got along with every one of them, blending into their closeness with ease. On days you’re busy with your own life, they’ll always ask him where you are because they genuinely enjoy your company.

Jarren usually doesn’t mind this, actually he loves it. You are one of the most important people in his life and he’s glad that you’re accepted and well liked among his teammates. He knows you have no ill intent being close with some of them, and he knows they all respect him and would never cross that boundary of your relationship that he cherishes so much.

Sometimes, his mind gets to the best of him though.

You’re a few years younger than him, closer to Marcelo’s and Roman’s age. As much as Jarren keeps up with new lingo and what not, sometimes he feels like you click with those two a little too well. The three of you seem to understand new things in media way before he does and you guys bond over it, whether it be new lingo, memes, music, etc. He knows it’s harmless, but he can’t help himself sometimes.

Especially when it’s those two who ask where you are the most. Again, all the guys love you and think you’re good company during hangouts or dinner, whatever it may be. But there’s something about Marcelo and Roman who will ask multiple times if you’re joining them that day or later on that makes Jarren feel a little bit protective. You’re the first person they migrate towards when you two show up to events, which has happened on multiple occasions and he’s taken note of it. Now, he trusts you with his whole heart, but as much as he trusts them, too, it’s a guy thing for him to feel overprotective of you towards them sometimes. Especially knowing that they’re single, love to party, and tend to make girls their priority.

So when a few of them make plans to hang out the night after a game before their day off, he extends the invitation to you knowing that it’s already assumed that you’d be joining unless stated otherwise.

“If you’re up for it babe I’m down to go,” you say with a smile while packing your usual bag for game night.

“I would love to spend some time with them, but we can leave if it gets to be too much or too late,” he replies.

“Sounds good to me.”

Once you agree to it, it’s like clockwork that the text comes through to his phone.

Anthony: Is y/n coming tonight

Jarren just stares at it, slightly annoyed but not enough to cancel plans. He misses Tolle and Connelly, and would love to see them outside of work, which hasn’t been often lately.

Jarren: Yes. She’s coming.

Anthony: 🙏

Jarren forcefully shoves his phone in his pocket, trying to shake the slight pinch of jealousy coursing through his veins.

You pick up your head just in time to see this. “Everything okay, babe?” you ask.

Jarren walks over to you, grabbing your waist and giving you a quick peck. “Yes, my love. All good,” he replies. A lie, but you don’t pester him knowing he has a game to focus on today. He rubs the side of your face with his thumb and gives you a small smile, clearly not wanting to push the conversation any longer.

“Okay, you ready to go?” you ask.

He grabs his things, most of his stuff tucked away in his truck already. “Yes, but we need to make a RedBull stop quick,” he replies, opening the door for you.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” you say, walking out the door of your apartment.

It was another great game in Boston! The guys won 4-1, Jarren scoring a home run in the first inning felt like it really set the tone for the night. Connelly pitched until the seventh inning, and the guys all made great plays in the field, barely letting the other team score. You sat with Devin, watching from afar and losing your minds at how great these guys played tonight. Devin and you have gotten really close over your time in the MLB world, so it was always a great time when she had the chance to come sit with you at games.

“Please tell me you’ll be with us later,” you say once the guys start heading to the locker room.

“Once I knew you were coming, Payton and I immediately agreed,” she says with a big smile, packing up her stuff.

“You’re too cute, I’ve missed you this past week! I’m glad you’ll be there with us. Do you know who else is coming?” you reply.

“Uh, I think just me and Payton, you and Jar, I know Connelly’s coming, Trevor opted out today, the rest of the guys said no except Contreras who said ‘maybe’, and then Marcelo and Roman are coming at some point,” she lists off the top of her head.

You laugh. “Any chance for some drinks and snacks, those two will take,” you say.

She pauses and gives a half smile. “Yeah, that’s it,” she says softly. She pulls out her phone as you two head to the lot. “Payton just texted, Chad didn’t have much to say so they’re heading out now.”

“Damn, that was quick. I’m so happy for them, they needed this win.”

“I’m sure your boy’s excited to see you,” she teased.

You smile, cheeks burning up. Although you and Jarren have been together for awhile, he still gives you those butterflies like you’re in high school again.

Once in the lot, Devin stands by Jarren’s truck with you. You can tell why her and Tolle are perfect for each other- they always look out for their people. She never leaves your side until both of the guys are ready to leave the park. A girls girl, for sure.

The guys start heading over together, both knowing that you two would be at each others hips tonight. Jarren’s running over to you with a big, cheeky grin.

“Hey, hey!” you greet him with a huge hug. “You did amazing, I’m so proud of you!”

“Yes, and you did a great job eating sunflower seeds,” you hear Devin teasing Tolle.

Everyone laughs and Jarren kisses your head. “I always have way more fun knowing you’re there watching and waiting for me. You ready to go? I need to get ready quick before we head over.”

“Yes, I am.” You look over at Devin and Tolle. “We’ll see you guys in a bit!”

They salute you both in unison and head over to their car before peeling out of the lot.

Everyone decided to head over to Tolle and Devin’s apartment, meaning very casual but honestly you loved these times more than going out somewhere with everyone. You chose a pair of jeans and one of Jarren’s hoodies, you wanted to be comfortable and relaxed.

Jarren walks out of the shower, taking you all in. “You look so pretty, baby.”

“Awe, thanks. I just wanted to be comfortable,” you reply with a big, dumb smile.

“You always look so beautiful no matter what.”

“Please, you’re glazing me,” you tease. Jarren pauses and gives you a puzzled look.

“I’m.. what?” Oh my God he’s genuinely confused. This makes you giggle.

“You’re ‘glazing’ me. Like, you’re hyping me up too much.”

“I had no fucking idea what that meant and honestly I was thinking about donuts, I was so confused,” he’s laughing at himself while he throws some clothes on- the same kind of outfit you have on.

“I’m happy to teach you, old man.”

“I am NOT that old,” he protests.

“Hmm, pushing thirty.. I dunno babe..”

“You’re gonna get it later, I swear.”

“Oh I better keep pushing your buttons, then.”

“Watch it, baby.”

By the time you get to Tolle’s, him and Connelly are already in a deep conversation about his pitching that night, it’s not even worth intervening yet.

“Alright guys, as much as I love you, there’s no time to exchange pleasantries. I need someone to start up the Mario Kart tournament to hopefully get these two to actually be present. Buffalo chicken dip will be done in five,” Devin says.

“Yes ma’am. C’mon babe, we’re up,” you guide Jarren over to their couch where the games already set up.

“I’m gonna kick your ass, you know.”

“We’ll see about that,” you get competitive as much as he does- and he kind of loves it.

By round three, Tolle and Connelly have made their way over and engage in your game.

“I love ya and all, but I’m rooting for Jar here,” Connelly tells you.

“Uh, you didn’t even watch my first round, you’re gonna be sorry when I prove you wrong,” you fight back.

He holds up his hands in defense, “I’m just sayin he’s two spots ahead of you.”

You don’t have time to reply before two loud voices make their way through the door.

Roman throws his hands up in the air, “Y/NNNN!!” He’s making his way over to the couch, Marcelo right behind him.

Jarren’s eye twitches, and his knuckles grip the remote just a little tighter. You’re too focused on the game, but Tolle notices and chuckles in response.

“What do we got here?” Marcelo asks, shoveling sunflower seeds in his mouth. You’d think they’d be sick of them after so many games, but not these two. They can’t get enough.

“I’m kicking y/n’s ass in Mario Kart, is what we’ve got going on here,” Jarren says flatly.

“I think that’s the first time you’ve lied to me, babe,” you say, still hard focused on the game.

“Dude, she’s got it. She just moved up one place, she’s creeping up right behind you,” Roman says, taking a seat closer to you. Since he’s gripping the remote as hard as he can at this point, Jarren shifts the weight to clenching his jaw. If he says anything, he might get himself in trouble the next game.

“Go, go, go, gO, GO, GO! FUCK YEAHHH!” they all start cheering. Somehow, some way, you made it first place with only around seven seconds to spare.

Roman and Connelly grab your shoulders and start shoving you around. “What’d I tell ya?” you say, looking at Connelly.

“I’m very sorry I doubted you, ma’am,” he shifts his gaze toward Jarren, “She’s pretty good, man.”

Jarren laughs in defeat, but then notices just how close Roman’s gotten to you at this point. He pats your knee and stands up. “You got me that time. Wanna drink?”

“No, thanks babe,” you reply. You don’t love to drink much. On occasion, sure, but it’s not your main goal for every hangout. You like to be around your people, you like to feel present.

“C’mon, drunk Mario Kart is ten times better,” Marcelo encourages. You look at him and Roman- flushed faces, eyes looking a little tired. It’s clear they pre-gamed a little bit before they came over.

“Really, I’m good. Someone else go, we’re taking a break,” you say, handing out the remote to anyone who’ll take it.

Tolle grabs it. “You and me, Anthony.” He knows. Good man.

You stand up and follow Jarren toward the kitchen. Devin’s been gone for a few minutes, but you don’t have time to wonder where she is before Jae’s hugging you from behind and kissing your neck.

You giggle in response and hold his arms. “Whatcha doin, babe?”

“Just lovin’ you,” he mumbles in response, still kissing the back of your neck. This makes your face feel hot and pink.

“Hmm, save it for later, babe.”

“You’re mine.” He says out of the blue. You turn to look at him.

“Of course I am.” You rub his arms and study his face. He looks shy, but his eyes have a touch of edge to them. “Everything alright?”

“Y/n, I’m kicking Tolle’s ass!” Roman calls to you from the couch.

Jarren stiffens and pauses. You notice his jaw clenches and his eyes grow dark. He pulls from you a little bit, then opens the fridge to grab a water for you.

“Are you not drinking anything?” You ask him. He’s rummaging in the cabinets he’s grown to know since coming to Tolle’s often.

“Vodka water.” He’s not one to drink much either, and usually not at casual hangouts like this.

Before you can question him any more, Devin makes her way back to you two and Connelly makes his way over too. The conversation takes up, and you all share her dip while you talk. You guys talk about Connelly’s family stuff he’s missing out on from working and traveling all the time, Devin’s recipes that are universal favorites, and more that don’t have anything to do with baseball. You notice Jarren, and he’s not nursing his drink like he normally would. It’s gone in five minutes before he pours another. This worries you slightly, but Jarren’s responsible and knows his limit, so you don’t push.

After some time, Roman and Tolle make their way over. Tolle pats Connelly mid bite, “Your turn. Marcelo’s waiting.” He cleans his hands and gets up to take his spot.

“Who won?” Devin asks.

Tolle lowers his head and points at Roman, who’s grinning like a dumb idiot.

“You should’ve seen just how good I was,” Roman announces, taking a spot close to you.

Jarren doesn’t say anything, just begins his second drink with his elbow on the counter, staring into nothing. After a minute, he says, “You’re glazing yourself.”

You look at him and burst out laughing, along with everyone else.

“Bro,” Tolle says with a slight chuckle.

Jarren looks at you. “Did you not literally tell me that’s what that means two hours ago?”

“No, you used it correctly, but it just came out funny,” Romans still laughing and looking at you now, “Did you have to teach him?”

Your eyes remain on Jarren. “I did, but he’s doing good I think.”

He doesn’t look amused in the slightest. You decide to change the subject, wondering what the hell his problem is.

Mayer comes over shortly after, pissed off and grabbing a drink. “This asshole beat me.”

“Alright, I need a break, you two now,” Connelly says, looking at you and Roman.

You head over with Roman, but take note of how Jarren is looking noticeably uncomfortable in his own skin, his second drink already finished. Did it really bother him that everyone laughed at him? Usually he can take a joke.

“This will be a close game,” Roman says to you.

“Yeah, maybe,” you say flatly.

Roman looks at you and notices your vibe is off immediately. “What’s up, you alright?”

“Yeah, just,” you look over at Jarren again, who is now nowhere to be seen. “I dunno.”

“Hey, whatever it is, he’ll be alright. Don’t forget he loves you,” Roman says.

You give a small smile, “Yeah. He does.”

The rounds go quickly, but you two were neck and neck. Like your game with Jar, you end up winning at the last second. One more round to go, you guys are 1-1. By the third round, everyone’s made their way over, but you barely notice who’s there and who’s not, everyone’s super into it because they know whoever wins, Connelly’s up against after.

You win with ease, having stayed in first all the way through the third round. Everyone’s so happy you won, Devins screaming and hugging you, God you love having a friend like her. Connelly looks very nervous, knowing he probably has no chance this next time around. Celo? Preoccupied with a drink and his phone, engaging every few seconds or so. You finally notice- Tolle and your boyfriend still aren’t around. Shrugging it off, you take in the win for a few minutes.

When they do finally emerge from Tolle’s room, they walk over and join the rest of you. Something’s definitely off. Jarren’s barely looking at anybody, tapping his leg in the way he does when he’s overthinking.

“What happened in here?” Tolle asks, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Y/n fucking beat me by a landslide,” Roman says, then he looks at Jar. “She’s the goat, man.”

Jarren just looks at him. “Yeah? Fucking marry her then.”

There it is. Whatever’s been bugging him all day has finally cracked, tension immediately thickening the air around you. Everyone goes quiet, you and Roman look mortified. Even Marcelo put his phone down for the first time in more than ten seconds.

“I’m sorry, what?” You say.

“Bro, what are you talking about?” Roman says, visibly uncomfortable.

He puts his hand on his hip, clicking his teeth and begins pacing. “You know- I see the way you look at her, the way you talk to her, how she makes you go all googly eyed. I’m fucking tired of it man, stay away from her,” Jarren’s pacing around, but keeping direct eye contact with Roman. A death stare.

“Jarren-,” you start to say but he motions for you to come with him.

“We’re leaving.”

“Dude, it’s not like-,” Roman starts but Jarren puts his hand up, building a wall between them.

“I said stay the fuck away. I’m not doing this right now.”

This is the worst time for Contreras to walk in. So he did decide to come. His smile fades quickly when he can feel the God awful vibe he walked into.

“What the hell did I miss?” Contreras says.

Jarren grabs your hand and brings you both toward the door. “Later, man.”

On your way to the car, you beg for the keys.

“Jar, you had a few drinks very quickly, I’m driving,” you protested. He finally gives you the keys, but doesn’t say anything. Just takes his unusual spot in the passenger seat of his own truck.

The silence between you two is loud for a couple of minutes before you can decide on what to say.“What the hell was that?” you ask, getting on the road.

“I’m sorry,” is the only thing he can say, which is barely a mumble.

“You could’ve talked to me about this,” you say.

“I didn’t want you to get mad.”

“I’m not mad at how you feel, but I’m upset that you didn’t come to me about it, especially if it’s been building up.”

“He gets way too fucking close to you and it pisses me off! You’re mine. You’re not his.” His leg is tapping like crazy at this point, and he focuses more on whatever’s passing by in his window than he is on you. “I can’t stand how he’s all over you all the fucking time, it drives me nuts. Tolle had to talk me off a ledge back there, but I couldn’t take it anymore. I snapped, and I’m sorry.”

You don’t live far from Tolle’s, so you end up pulling into the parking garage of your apartment pretty quickly.

“Come on, we’re home,” you say, grabbing both of your things. He stumbles out of the car, a little too tipsy for such a serious conversation, but not drunk enough to be over the edge.

When you get inside, you throw your things on the counter and grab his hand with a little more force than you intended. The mix of frustration, and honestly being turned on by all of this, is a very complicated feeling that you need to let out on him.

“I don’t know what you think was going on, but I love you and only you-,” you start once you’re in the bedroom, but you’re unable to finish because an insatiable desire for you takes over him, and pulls you into a desperate kiss. There’s passion, hunger, and frustration laced in it, making the perfect cocktail for a makeup session.

He holds your jaw with his hands, gently but you can tell he’s serious. “I love you too fucking much to lose you to some twenty year old kid, you’re mine.”

“I am yours,” you say softly, not breaking eye contact. “That’s never going to change.”

He sighs heavily and looks down for a moment. “I’m not mad at you, and I’m sorry if I embarrassed you. I’ll apologize tomorrow, but right now, I need to take it out on you because if it were him, I’d be in jail or fired.”

You watch the tv screen as Chap ends the game with a win for the Sox, striking out the third Yankees player. Everyone on the field looks so happy, grinning ear to ear all running toward the dugout, Tolle and Early being goofballs amongst celebration, and a rare smile from Chad Tracy even sneaks its way in there. Sadly, they skipped your favorite celebratory dance you love to see from Cedanne, Abreu, and Jarren. Everyone looks happy, and you should be too.

But something’s been eating at you all day, and the lingering feelings are making this big moment feel smaller than it should. Jarren will be home soon, you opted out of going to the stadium today, which is very unlike you. He was sweet and didn’t push you to go with him, but you could tell he was concerned. You need to get it together before he comes back.

Maybe it’s hormones, maybe it’s insecurities that have been built over a long time, hell maybe it’s even just one of those days where you feel blue, but you’ve been a mess since you woke up this morning.

You and Jarren have been together for quite some time now, coming close to a year at this point. Your relationship is the healthiest you’ve ever been in, everyone in your life comments on how you’re glowing and showing a newer version of yourself, and you love Jarren so much it concerns you sometimes (but he doesn’t know this, yet). Everything about your relationship is damn near perfect.

But you can’t help the thoughts. You know how fans feel about you. You were a fan who was brought into this world of MLB- this is every girls dream; dating their favorite player. People make sure to express how they feel about it, and they aren’t kind most of the time. Jarren convinced you that maybe it was best for both of you to delete social media for awhile and just focus on each other. You agreed, and it’s been a breath of fresh air for the most part. But today, it’s weighing on you for some reason.

The comments from fans on social media posts and reporters circle in your brain over and over. They think you’re not pretty enough for him, or that you’re going to fuck up his plays (you haven’t- if anything they’ve gotten better), people comment on your appearance all of the time and drag it because that’s all they know about you. You don’t show your personality through social media much anymore since being brought into his life, you aren’t famous on your own for people to know you from any kind of projects or work. You are simply a girl who loved the Red Sox since you were young and just happened to be living the dream of being romantically involved with your favorite player. And you’re not ugly, not even a little bit- but people are jealous and mean, that’s all it comes down to.

And despite knowing this, it still simmers sometimes. You’ve had to work very hard to think even remotely highly of yourself. Most comments don’t get to you anymore, but you’re human and sometimes the negative thoughts just take over.

You don’t even realize you’re crying and that the games been long over until you hear Jarren open the door to the room.

“Sweetheart?” he calls out, setting his things by the door. Shit. You need to pull yourself together. You run to the bathroom and turn the sink on, pressing cold water onto your face. It’s no use. You’ve been crying on and off all day, not even cold water can help the pink around your eyes and the swelling in your face.

“Babe?” He calls out again, closer this time, looking for you.

You creep out of the bathroom half faking a big smile for him. Performing was something you’ve perfected over the years- but even you know Jarren can tell when the slightest thing is off with you. Sometimes he knows it before you can even feel it.

“Hey babe, congratulations! That was a great win for you guys,” you greet him, pulling him into a big hug. Hopefully this can hide your face for just a little bit longer. God he smells so good, too. You love just holding him, taking in his scent and the feel of your lover close to you. “I’m so proud of you.”

He kisses the top of your head, letting his face rest there for a moment before replying. “Thank you sweetheart, we all wished you were there. Tolle was wondering where you were,” he informs you. It’s very unusual that you miss a game- Jarren loves having you there supporting him, and you’re eternally grateful to be in a place where you can pack up your life and travel alongside him to support him and the team.

You chuckle in response. “Yeah, he was probably sad I didn’t come in clutch with snacks for everybody.” You pull away from his embrace slightly, too fidgety to stay put but trying to hide your face as much as possible.

He laughs back. “Did you eat yet?”

“No, I haven’t. Are you hungry?” You ask, making your way towards the kitchen. You couldn’t bring yourself to eat all day, and you had no desire to now.

“Nah, we had something quick right after the game. I’m gonna shower quick.” He pauses and catches you playing with your fingers, hiding your face from him while leaning against the doorframe. “Sweetheart, are you alright?”

You nod quickly. “Yeah, I think I’m just exhausted from traveling. Needed to take a day to catch up.”

He lets that sit for a moment before replying. “Come back here, let me see you.” He sits on the corner of the bed and motions for you to come be with him.

You hesitate, but quickly look at him and give him a small smile before walking to him and sitting on his lap.

“Look at me.” He repeats. You look up into his eyes. They’re so warm and pretty it’s not fair, but they show a mixture of softness and concern. He pushes your hair out of your face and holds your head in his hands. “What’s the matter? You’ve been different since this morning.”

You look away, not really knowing how to respond. You’ve been in your head all day. Had anything happened to get you like this? Not necessarily, but your long-term insecurities decided to hang out with you today and cause your thoughts to spin mindlessly out of control.

“I’m alright,” you lie while breaking eye contact. As good as you’ve learned to be at putting on a performance with your emotions, you can’t do it in the slightest with him. Your vulnerability with him is something completely foreign to you, but you also know it’s simply because he makes you feel safe. As great as that is, it’s times like these where you wish he couldn’t see right through you.

“You don’t look alright, talk to me,” he says softly while rubbing your back.

“I’m not good enough for you,” you barely whisper, tears threatening to fall again.

“What? Babe what are you talking about?” he asks in disbelief.

You shrug your shoulders and bite your lip, hoping it’ll be any help to postpone your cry.

“Sweetheart, why do you think that? That is absolutely not true.” he reassures you.

“You could do way better than me. There’s no doubt in my mind that someone better looking out there is perfect for you,” you reply. It’s too late to stop the tears- but you control them enough to only let a few fall.

He pauses but doesn’t take his eyes off of you. The hesitation scares you a little bit, causing your chest to tighten. Maybe he had been thinking the same thing for a while and had just been waiting for you to say it first.

“Do you remember the day we met?” he asks after what feels like ten minutes. You nod your head, how could you forget? You always managed to sit in the same section- maybe fate, you’re not sure- and after he had smiled at you a few times at a few games, that day he finally came over to you after a game and started to talk to you was the start of it all for you two.

“I had seen you many times, and every time we played at home, I started to realize just how much I was hoping to see you there again. I couldn’t get you out of my mind, and I knew I wanted to get to know you. And when I finally mustered up the courage to talk to you- you didn’t want an autograph or shove a camera in my face. You said…,” he says.

“I said, ‘I’m just happy to talk to you for a few minutes,’” you finish for him.

“And in that moment- I knew I needed to get to know who you are. And I haven’t regretted it since. I had always remembered your face because of how beautiful I think you are. I remember thinking it the first time I saw you, and I remember the little jump I got in my chest when I saw you again shortly after the first time. And then again, and then again. And after that, I found myself praying to God you would be at the next game. And when you were, I knew that was my chance, because what if I never saw you again?” he tells you.

You smile and wipe your tears. “Yeah, that was a great day.”

He pulls your head up to look at him and holds your head in his hands. “I am so grateful I met you. You are the most beautiful woman in the world, I love your personality. You’re absolutely hilarious, the guys love you and even tell me all the time they think you’re funnier than I am. You’re my biggest supporter and are willing to come into my interests and explore new things with me. We make a great team, babe. You are one hundred percent perfect for me. You are the only one I want. I don’t want to know this life without you in it, sweetheart,” he confesses.

You’re crying again, but not out of sadness. Not only do his words mean everything in this moment, but your body can feel the love he has for you. You’re overwhelmed with love and exhausted from a long day of emotional battles.

“I don’t know what to say,” you finally decide to say.

“I love you.” He replies. “I love you so fucking much I don’t even know where to put it or what to do sometimes. You drive me absolutely wild and I love having you in my life.”

You freeze. You haven’t said you love each other yet, trying to take things at an easy pace and see where things go. But you knew you truly loved him a few months in, and you wanted to hold that close until the right time.

“I love you so much, Jarren. I’m sorry you had to come home to this. Sometimes I just get in my head, you didn’t do anything wrong,” you reply. “God, I love you so much it hurts.”

He pulls you in for a sweet, long kiss. The warmth of your body close to his makes you feel safe and sleepy. But you’re feeling so much better. He really is your safe space.

“Don’t apologize for how you feel, baby. I just want you to know I’ll spend the rest of my life showing you how much I love you if you let me,” he says after breaking the kiss. You chuckle and nod, pulling him in close again.

“I would love that more than anything,” you reply.

“Come shower with me, pretty girl. Then we can get some sleep, because someone better be coming to the game tomorrow,” he teases.

.

.

The posts spread quicker than you could’ve ever imagined.

The first one you ignored, knowing that professional sports fans often stir up drama for no good reason other than their own entertainment. You think they’d be entertained enough with how great their team’s doing, but apparently not.

The second one you brushed off, aware that rumors spread like wildfire and reposts were bound to happen.

The more you saw, the more evidence that came with it, and you found it to be true.

Jarren’s ex was at the game last night. Even worse? It was the first game you also attended after publicly launching your relationship a couple of days ago.

You couldn’t help but go down that old familiar road of your own self destruction in your head. Was it simply coincidence that she was there, especially considering how great this team is doing? Or did she have cruel intentions behind it?

There was always a part of you that didn’t feel like you fit into his world. You’d never think less of yourself for a man, but his career and his past sometimes got you thinking.

Your relationship started unexpectedly. You met in Boston at a little shop about six months ago, and the rest is history. Your whole life has done a 180 since then; you moved in with him, got a job in Boston, and he was kind enough to make sure you came to as many home games as you could.

That’s exactly the problem, though. You aren’t a model, you don’t have a platform of your own; you’re normal, and sometimes it makes you feel so small in his big world.

She’s beautiful too, his ex. You can’t help but go to the unblock list, something you’d done a while ago to prevent something like this. Last nights events just nudged the urge too hard for you to have the control to stop it.

Scrolling through her page, you can’t help but compare yourself. She has a body you’d never be able to achieve, a face so effortlessly pretty that it didn’t matter what angle someone took a picture of her from; she was perfect. Why he ever chose you, you’d never know. And now it’s getting to your head.

The sound of the door clicking pulls you out of your thoughts.

Jarren comes over and lays on top of you, definitely messing up the bedsheets.

“Hi sleepy,” he teases with a grin.

You smile and hum in response, giving him a quick peck. “Hi! Where’d you run off to?”

“Got you coffee and breakfast. You gonna get up? It’s late.” He nudges your arm.

You stretch underneath him, which isn’t making it easy. “Well since you got me food…”

He just laughs and kisses your forehead. “You need to eat something, we have a big day.”

“How are you not exhausted after last night?” You ask, finally sitting up. “I’d be dead after four hours and thirteen innings.”

He thinks on it for a second. “Adrenaline rush?”

He shifts to allow you to get up from the bed. “I guess so, my body hurts just from watching you and cheering you guys on in the stands.”

He smiles in response. “Go eat then, you need energy.”

You smile and turn to head to the kitchen.

“Oh babe you forgot your…” he starts, but trails off. Your heart drops to the pit of your stomach. Shit, you forgot to turn your phone off. You feel your body get hot and your heart jackhammering in your chest.

He comes over to you with a look of concern on his face. “Baby, what’s this?”

You look down, too nervous to look him in the eye. You’d planned on not bringing up the fact that she was at the game and pushing down your feelings. How can you tell him everything that was going through your head this morning?

“Uh, I guess she was at the game last night,” you say quietly, still not meeting his gaze.

He doesn’t say anything at first. “Okay? How do you even know that? Better yet, why are you 3 years deep in her Instagram?”

You sigh in frustration with yourself for getting caught. “I kept seeing posts about it, and then I saw some pictures people had taken of her that confirmed she was really there. And I just went down this rabbit hole before I knew what I was doing.”

“How come it’s bothering you so much?” He asks gently, taking your hand with his free one.

“Jar, I really don’t wanna talk about it,” you protest.

“Well I’m sorry, but I do. I’m not letting you sit with this all night while I’m on the field knowing it’s eating you alive,” he puts your phone on the dresser and gently grabs your arms. “Can you please look at me and talk to me?”

“I’m like, nothing compared to her.” You finally look up at him trying to fight back tears. You curse the universe for gifting you with the urge to cry when you’re frustrated. “She’s.. beautiful. She’s successful, and she seemed to just make more sense with you when you stood next to each other. I don’t look like that, I never could. I feel like I’m too normal and mundane for you.”

You can practically see his heart break with the way he looks at you. “Sweetheart, have I ever done or said anything that made you feel that way?”

“No,” you mumble, embarrassed at your vulnerability. When you start tapping your fingers, an anxious habit you’ve had for as long as you can remember, he doesn’t break his gaze when he grabs them and starts rubbing your hands with his thumbs.

“Are you sure? You can be honest with me.”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

“Come here,” he whispers before pulling you in. He rests his chin on your head, slightly squeezing you like he knows to do when you’re anxious.

“This makes me so sad that you think those things about yourself,” he says gently. “I wish you could see yourself the way I do.”

“I get in my head but it all feels so real sometimes.”

He guides you to the bed and sits you on his lap so he can look at you. He brushes some hair out of your face, still messy from your sleep.

“I think you’re the most beautiful woman in the world. I don’t need a model. Guys go for models to have someone on their arm they can show off for media attention. I don’t need that, I don’t want that. I want you. I want you and your kind heart, you and your selflessness who wouldn’t think twice before being there for the people she cares about, you and your motivation and drive for your career that I find insanely attractive. I want you and your ridiculous version of holding a pair of chopsticks after you beg me to get sushi, yet still can’t figure out how to hold them. I want you, the one who always believes in me no matter what, even on my worst days and you still choose me and stick with me through it all. You’re my favorite person to celebrate our wins with. You’re the one I wanna talk to first about absolutely everything. I love you so much, and even when I think I can’t love you more, I’m always proven wrong.”

You didn’t think you could ever be loved and cared for so much, especially when you don’t always feel that way about yourself. His love feels foreign, yet so right at the same time. It’s hard to believe you deserve it.

“I don’t even know what to say, that was just really sweet.”

“You don’t have to say anything, I just wanted you to know. And I’ll tell you a million times if I have to get it in your pretty little head that I mean it,” he says, poking your nose.

You smile and pull him in, kissing him gently. You rest your forehead on his.

“Thank you for loving me. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry. And if it makes you feel better, I’ll get word around to not have her come to any games. Plus, it’d benefit me too. I don’t want anything to do with her.”

“Only do that if you want to. I promise I’ll be okay.”

He smiles and kisses your forehead. “I’m gonna talk to whoever I have to about upgrading your seats right next to the dugout tonight. I’m gonna hit a homer for you.”

You just laugh and kiss him again.

And then he did:)

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tags!: @durandiaries @wildecat1996 @whiskey-princ3ss @iheartbigmuscles @duranjarren @jarrensgirl @jarrensweb @ilovebigswole-blog

You knew it was going to be another tough night when the news came to light on social media. You stare at the phone chewing on the skin of your thumb, reading the headline that highlighted your boyfriend getting into a verbal altercation with a fan today.

"Shit," you whisper, tossing the phone onto the cushion beside you. You feel your heartbeat pick up and a not so kind version of anticipation creep its way in. It's been a hard month for Jarren; what happens on the field comes home with him, and though he tries his best to shake it off, you know better than anyone he's burying more than he'd ever let on.

You run your hands through your hair, focusing on relaxing your nervous system as much as you can. You have to be strong for him right now, he deserves that.

The only thing that seems to make sense in the moment is to do the mundane. You tidy up the apartment, making sure there are no dirty dishes and that the floor is swept, laundry is in the dryer. In the moment it feels right, to make sure there's some aspect of normalcy for when he comes home, to make sure he doesn't have to focus on anything but himself tonight.

Even when there's not another thing you could try and accomplish, it still feels wrong and out of place. You just need him home.

.

.

It takes awhile for him to get home, a few hours or so. Your ears perk up at the sound of the key unlocking the door, and try your best to act like you have no idea what's going on.

He drops his keys on the counter and runs his hands over his face.

"Hey sweetheart," Jarren says to you from the door.

"Hi honey," you pick yourself up from your spot on the couch and make your way toward him. Bringing him into a hug, you whisper, "Great job today, I'm so happy for you guys."

He half chuckles into your hair and just keeps holding you.

"I'm sorry I missed the game," you say with your eyes closed.

"'M kinda glad you weren't there today," he mumbles.

You pull away and finally look at his face. It's not like his baseline, he's hiding what happened so he doesn't crack.

"Why's that?" you ask.

He scratches the back of his neck and returns a big sigh. "I, uh, got into it with a fan at the park."

You just continue looking at him. You picked up on this technique awhile ago- looking at him lets him know you're listening, and makes him feel more obligated to open up without being asked many questions. Questions result in 'yes/no' like answers, not giving him the opportunity to truly say what he's feeling.

"It was just dumb, Willson had to pull me out of it. Nothing happened," he continues. It feels rehearsed, but you don't pester.

"Alright, would you like to talk about it?" you offer.

"No, I'm fine. I just wanna shower and hangout with you."

You give him a soft smile. "Okay babe. There's clean towels and clothes for you."

He gives you a kiss in return and rubs your face with his thumb. "You're the best. I'll be quick, get comfy."

.

.

It's twenty minutes later when he comes back out, hair still wet with some sweatpants and a white shirt.

You're kind of half asleep with how comfortable you are under the blanket. He chuckles at the sight of you. "C'mon, don't fall asleep on me now."

You smile. "'M not, waiting for you," you reply in the sleepiest voice.

He kisses your head as he takes his place, bringing your head onto his lap.

These are your favorite kind of nights; existing contently together. The worry still lingers, he hasn't opened up much this month considering everything going on.

Halfway through the movie you enter a slight limbo. Not asleep, but not in tune to everything going on around you. Until Jarren starts to stiffen up.

"I'm so tired, babe," he says quietly.

You come out of your daze and start to grab the remote. "Alright honey let's go to sleep-"

"No, no," he says with a sigh and you can feel his body tremble. "I'm tired of... everything."

You sit up and look at him, two small tears on either side of his face.

"Sweetheart," you say climbing into his lap and holding his face.

He looks at you with these sad eyes that break your heart. "I'm tired of messing up, I'm tired of the way people feel like they can treat me, I mean they don't even fucking know me." He's shaking, trying his hardest to not break into a sob. "I'm just so fucking exhausted lately, it's too much pressure sometimes." He holds onto your arms that are holding his face and crashes his forehead with yours, finally allowing himself to just feel. He's sobbing, trying to stay strong between big gasps.

You let him for a few minutes, trying not to cry with him. At some point you just hold him while he sobs, rubbing his back and scratching his head lightly.

When he settles a little, you pull his face up to look at you.

"Hey," you whisper, "It's okay to not be okay. It's okay to not be perfect, you're a human being. None of this takes away your talent, your worth, or your intelligence. I'm still here, I'm still proud of you, and I'm always going to root for you- so many other people will, too. I don't know what that asshole said to you, but that's exactly what he is; an asshole. You're amazing, Jar, and I am here to support you with whatever you need. It's all going to be okay."

He takes in a big breath and smiles at you. "I'm sorry if I've been off, I'm having a hard month. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You have nothing to be sorry for. Just don't forget how everything you didn't think you'd get through, you did."

"Thank you for believing in me," he says softly, almost too quiet to hear, but you can tell it's laced with one hundred percent sincerity. "I'll be okay, it's just a rough time but I'll get through it."

"I'm always here."

He pulls you in for a kiss, soft, vulnerable, and loving. He pulls away, "Can we go to sleep? I just wanna lay with you."

You give him another quick peck. "Absolutely, tomorrow's a new day sweetheart." You get up and grab for his hand to bring him along with you.

"Tomorrow's a new day," he repeats, following you into bed.

.

.