JUST A GIRL AT HIS SHOWS ♬⋆.˚🎸⋆⭒˚.🎤
summary: you and joe keep your relationship private, but fans catch sweet moments of you supporting him at shows and walking together, always close. the internet quickly falls in love with how soft and clearly in love you both are.
warnings: fluff, fluff & more fluff
authors note: loveddd writing this, even though it's not my best, joe has been killing lollapalooza so wanted to write something along the lines of that, also south american crowds are everything !!
find my masterlist ⤷ here
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･✧*:･ﾟ✧ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
you and joe have always kept things quiet.
not secret, never secret, but soft around the edges, tucked safely into the spaces between public moments. there are no big announcements, no red carpet hand holding, no carefully staged photos. just the two of you living your life, loving each other in the in-between.
the people who know, know.
and the people who don’t usually just assume you’re a friend, a bandmate’s girlfriend, someone from the crew. it makes things easier that way. it lets you walk beside him without the weight of expectation pressing down on your shoulders.
still, sometimes the world catches a glimpse.
and when it does, it can’t look away.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･✧*:･ﾟ✧ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
the first time it really happens is at the first argentinian show of the hectic south america leg.
the air is warm and electric, buzzing with anticipation, the kind of night where the sky feels too big and the crowd feels endless. you’re standing just off to the side of the stage, tucked behind a line of equipment cases, wearing one of joe’s hoodies that hangs slightly too big on your frame.
not in the spotlight, not front and center, just close enough that he can find you when he needs to.
the music starts, loud and alive, vibrating through the ground beneath your sneakers. the crowd roars as joe steps up to the microphone, guitar slung over his shoulder, curls bouncing as he moves.
he looks different on stage.
brighter. looser. completely in his element.
but even then, even in the middle of thousands of people screaming his name, he still searches for you.
halfway through the first song, his eyes scan the side of the stage, quick and automatic, and then they land on you.
his shoulders relax just a little. his mouth curves into the smallest smile, barely noticeable to anyone else, but you see it. you always see it.
you press your hand to your chest, warmth blooming there.
you mouth the words to the song, swaying gently, completely lost in the sound of him.
later, during a slower song, he steps back from the mic for a moment, fingers moving over the strings, and his gaze drifts toward you again. this time he holds it, just for a second longer than usual.
the lights hit him just right, casting a soft glow around his silhouette.
and you can almost hear his voice in your head.
you give him a small thumbs up, smiling.
he laughs quietly into the microphone, shaking his head like you just told him a private joke.
the crowd cheers, thinking it’s part of the performance.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･✧*:･ﾟ✧ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
after the show, you meet him backstage, weaving through cables and crew members and the lingering hum of adrenaline.
“there you are,” he says, breathless, hair damp with sweat.
“there you are,” you echo, grinning.
he walks straight toward you and wraps his arms around your waist without hesitation, pulling you into him like it’s the most natural thing in the world. you press your face into his chest, breathing in the familiar scent of him — warm, salty, alive.
“you were amazing,” you murmur.
he huffs a small laugh against your hair.
“i messed up the bridge in the third song.”
he squeezes you tighter, pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head.
someone nearby snaps a photo.
neither of you realize it at the time.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･✧*:･ﾟ✧ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
the next morning, the internet is buzzing.
it starts small, a blurry picture posted on social media. joe, still in his stage clothes, arms wrapped around a girl in an oversized hoodie backstage.
but they notice the way he’s holding you.
the captions start rolling in.
'the way he’s hugging her though'
'that’s not just a friend hug'
you find the photo while scrolling lazily in bed, joe still half-asleep beside you, one arm draped across your waist.
“late enough for you to see this.”
he squints at your phone as you hold it up.
his face flushes immediately.
he rubs the back of his neck, embarrassed.
you glance at him, amused.
“we weren’t doing anything wrong.”
“i know,” he says softly.
his arm tightens around you.
“i just… i like that it’s ours, you know?”
you turn your head to look at him properly.
his hair is messy from sleep, his expression gentle and a little vulnerable.
“it is ours,” you promise.
he studies your face for a moment, searching.
“you’re okay with people seeing stuff like this?”
“i’m okay with people seeing how much you love me.”
he hides his face in your shoulder.
you laugh, running your fingers through his curls.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･✧*:･ﾟ✧ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
a few days later, you’re in more cities in south america together, traveling between shows.
the cities blur into a kaleidoscope of colours, bright markets, tree-lined streets, music drifting from open windows. the air is warmer, heavier, filled with the smell of food and sunlight.
this time, there are more cameras.
but somehow, it still feels private.
you’re walking through a quiet park in the late afternoon, golden light filtering through the leaves overhead. joe’s arm is draped around your shoulders, pulling you close against his side as you wander along the path.
his thumb traces lazy circles against your arm.
you lean into him automatically.
“this place is beautiful,” you say softly.
then he glances down at you, smiling.
you roll your eyes, but you’re smiling.
a few people pass by, whispering excitedly, phones subtly lifted.
his arm tightens slightly around you, protective without being obvious.
he presses a kiss to your temple.
he guides you toward a wooden bench tucked beneath a tall tree, the shade cool and comforting. you sit close together, knees brushing, shoulders touching.
for a while, neither of you says anything.
watching children run across the grass. listening to distant laughter. feeling the gentle rise and fall of his breathing beside you.
after a moment, he reaches for your hand.
your fingers lace together naturally.
he lifts your hand to his lips and presses a soft kiss against your knuckles.
so full of love it makes your chest ache.
somewhere nearby, a camera clicks.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･✧*:･ﾟ✧ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
that evening, the photos start spreading.
joe walking through a park with his arm wrapped around a girl, holding her close.
joe sitting on a bench, kissing her hand.
joe leaning his forehead against hers while she laughs at something he said.
the internet loses its mind.
'whoever she is, he adores her'
'the way he keeps her close'
'this is the softest thing i’ve ever seen'
mi’m not even jealous, i’m just emotional'
you’re curled up in the hotel bed later that night, scrolling through the posts with wide eyes.
he looks up from tying his shoes.
he walks over and sits beside you, shoulder brushing yours as he reads.
his ears turn pink almost immediately.
then he sighs softly, running a hand through his hair.
he keeps scrolling, expression growing more thoughtful.
“they’re being nice,” he murmurs.
he sets the phone down and turns toward you, studying your face.
“you still okay with this?”
you nod without hesitation.
you reach up and cup his cheek, thumb brushing along his jaw.
“joe, they’re just seeing what’s already there.”
“they’re seeing how much we love each other.”
his expression softens instantly.
his hand slides over yours, holding it against his face.
“i do love you,” he says quietly.
he leans forward, resting his forehead against yours.
for a moment, the world goes still.
just the two of you breathing the same air.
then he presses a slow, tender kiss to your lips.
the kind that says everything words can’t.
when he pulls back, he smiles softly, eyes warm and full of affection.
he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his chest, holding you close like you’re the safest place he knows.
you melt into him instantly, cheek pressed against his shoulder, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.
outside, somewhere in the world, people are still posting photos.
still whispering about how sweet you look together.
but inside that quiet hotel room, none of it matters.
because this — his arms around you, your fingers tangled in his shirt, the soft brush of his lips against your hair — is the only thing that’s real.
and the only thing you’ll ever need.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･✧*:･ﾟ✧ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
thank you for reading !!! 🪽
