i've been thinking 'bout tomorrow, instead of drowning in the past
summary: it’s january 2022. you went out for a night of dancing and drinks, but seeing joe again turns your evening upside down. old memories, unspoken words, and the air between you make it clear; some connections don’t fade with time.
pairing: ex! joe burrow x fem! reader
warnings: alcohol, mild cursing
word count: 4,1k
author's note: hey everyone :) first fic, kinda nervous. i've had this in mind for a while so it feels good that i finally have it done. the title and feel of this fic comes from the song still - seinabo sey. listen to it, it's a great song. with that said, i hope you enjoy!
You lost your friends somewhere between the bar and the dance floor twenty minutes ago. The place is buzzing — loud, sweaty, electric. Both the Buckeyes and the Bengals won this weekend, and tomorrow’s a national holiday. That means everyone’s out. Raised voices fight the music, animated laughter mixing with the clink of bottles and glasses. You had put on your blue denim shorts, an old band t-shirt, and black knee high boots when you got the text from Alexa. Dancing with your friends, drinks in your hands, after all the stress of the week felt like the perfect way to end it, you decided. A good way to reset for the next.
You turn around from the bar, a new vodka cranberry in your hand. You’re already a little tipsy, leaning against the bartop as you fight to make out faces in the crowd in front of you. Your eyes weave through people, scanning faces, trying to spot someone familiar when your gaze catches – and sticks.
Blue. Not just blue. That blue.
Your breath hitches as you take him in. He looks familiar, but somehow more settled, more like himself than you remember. He’s broader. Fuller. Older. His hair hides under a snapback and on his black t-shirt, a print impossible to make out from here. He leans against the table behind him, casually holding a glass of clear liquid in his left hand. Just the sight of him sobers you up.
Of course you have heard of Joe Burrow after that day in May years ago. It took a while, but after a little more than a year, he was on everyone’s lips again. You never watched any of his games at LSU but you’d have to live under a rock to miss how he totally dominated college football and left his own mark on history. The Bengals drafting him flooded your timeline on twitter for days. You know he was back in state, it’s hard to miss when his face is on billboards all around town. What you never knew, what you never thought at least, was that you’d run into him again.
You blink again, and there he still is. He’s laughing at something his friend said into his ear, swiping a hand over his mouth before his eyes start traveling around the room. You hold your breath as his gaze creeps closer to you… and there it is. The blue looking back at you. You see how his smile washes away off his face as something flashes in his eyes. Recognition.
You spin around, facing the bar again, your grip tightening around the glass as your breathing picks up. You pull out your phone to text Alexa, fingers slightly unsteady. Even though, or maybe because, the alcohol in your system, you’re hyperaware of him now. His presence replaces the vibrant energy that once filled the room.
Despite you not looking at him, you feel him nearing. You close your eyes like you’re bracing yourself. Relief almost escapes you when you hear your name, breaking the tension you didn’t realize you’d been holding. Your name is said with his voice; his steady, grounding voice. The type of voice that doesn’t need to be raised to cut through the music.
”Y/N.”
You take a deep breath before turning around. You put on a small smile as you take him in. He looked the same but sharper, more defined. The eyes and the small grin his lips sported? They were the exact same.
”Hi Joe,” you say. His name feels unfamiliar but easy to form, like when you take your first stroke of the year in the water.
”I wasn’t sure it was you,” he continues. His eyes dart over your face before settling back on yours.
You look away for a brief moment before returning to him, a sheepish look on your face now. You shrug. ”Well, it’s me. In the flesh.”
His eyes drop down to your lips as you speak, and when you are done, the grin grows on his lips. ”Well, it’s nice to see you again.”
”Likewise.” Your eyes dart down to his t-shirt and reminding you why there’s so many orange jerseys out tonight. ”Oh, uhm, congrats on t-”
”I can’t hear shit in here,” Joe cuts in, leaning closer so he can hear you over the bass. ”Wanna talk outside?”
You blink as your brain processes his words before nodding shortly. It was loud in here. ”Yeah, sure,” you say to his ear.
He smiles before turning towards the door and weaving through bodies to get to his destination. You follow closely, slipping through the crowd on the path he clears for you. You catch Alexa’s gaze for the first time in 30 minutes and mouth ’one minute’ as you pass. She gives you a raised brow before her eyes slide over to Joe’s turned back, earning you a sly grin from your best friend. You look away, not trying to entertain anything that goes through her mind.
As you step out into the night, your lungs welcome the crisp Ohio air, feeling the relief wash over you. The music and ambivalence from the club falls to the background as Joe walks down the street. You follow suit, your ears appreciating the rest.
Your arms wrap around you tightly as Joe comes to a stop and turns around. It’s only you and Joe, the dimmed bass from the club and distant city noise. His eyes sweep over you, one eyebrow slightly lifted. “You were saying?”
You give him a lopsided smile. “Congratulations,” you say, your eyes flickering down to his shirt with a big 'AFC CHAMPIONS' on it.
He looks down at it, lets out a huff before he looks back up with a grin. “Thank you.” You hear the pride in his voice. Not bragging, just satisfaction.
The breeze ruffles your hair, and you sacrifice a hand to brush it back into place before quickly rubbing it up and down your arm. He notices. You catch the way his gaze lingers on the way you hug yourself. “Cold?”
You give him a short nod. “Yup. A little.” Your jacket is hanging somewhere in the coat check and Alexa’s taking care of the ticket, since you had an unfortunate habit of losing it.
Joe gestures to a car parked across the street. “I’ll turn on the heat for you.” There’s no pressure in his voice as he says it.
You glance in the direction he tilts his head and then back at him. There’s a pause before you finally answer. ”Okay.”
He gets to the door first and opens it for you. You give him a smile in appreciation and slip past him onto the seat. The car’s cold and quiet.
He closes your door and rounds the front of the car swiftly before getting in himself. He turns on the car and starts pressing buttons on a big touch screen that sits in the middle of the dashboard. Your phone vibrates in your hand and when you glance at it, it’s Alexa asking if you’re okay. You send her a quick text back, reassuring her you’re safe before putting it down. The seat is noticeably warmer now and there’s heat softly blowing at your feet.
“Better?”
“Much,” you reply contently, letting the warmth seep in as you let your hands rest on your lap. He leans back against his seat, his presence grounding somehow. You glance around the interior, the touch screen and sleek design, the yellow and red logo on the steering wheel. “In the big leagues now, huh?” You comment with an impressed expression as you take it in.
His gaze swipes over the dashboard and let out a deep chuckle. “Yeah, they pay pretty good.”
You hum in acknowledgment and glance out through the windshield. People scramble out of the club – stumbling to catch an Uber, lighting a cigarette, chatting on the sidewalk.
“So…” Joe breaks the silence, quietly tapping the wheel inattentively. “How’s life treating you?” His tone’s even, steady. You look to your left and are met with his side profile before he slowly turns to meet your gaze.
You exhale, shrugging. “Good. Got a job and a place in OTR… No Porsche yet but I’m working on that.” You smile at the last part. So does he. “What about you?”
“Good. It’s my second year, so I’ve… somewhat adapted. It’s fun, you know, playing football and being back in Ohio. Nice being close to home.” You nod. “So, what do you do?”
You let your tongue slide over your mouth. “Uhm I’m a child caseworker. So I help kids, families, support foster parents and such mostly,” you explain.
You see Joe acknowledge it with a small tilt of his head from the corner of your eye. “Do you like it?”
It’s your turn to nod. “Yeah, mostly. I love the feeling I get when I help people… I think that’s what life really is about, helping the people around you… It’s really rewarding.” You say, turning to look at him. He looks back at you, a small smile on his face as he hums along, urging you on. “But it also breaks your heart. The system’s broken and you can’t help everybody in the way… you’d want to. You have these kids that have no choice but to put their faith in the hands of us… and it’s not always we can pull through, no matter how much we fight for it.”
He’s quiet for a beat too long, his eyes locked on you. “How do you…cope with those cases?”
You bite the inside of your cheek as you think, your fingers absently playing with the strap of your purse. “In the beginning it was hard. I went home crying a lot, just so fucking devastated… but at some point I realized that I did the best I could and that the blame isn’t on me,” you say with a heavy sigh. ”And I have a great boss and coworkers, and the agency I work for is probably the best in the state… It’s all great support to fall back on when things… don’t go as planned. So that helps a lot.”
His expression softens as you speak. He exhales as he searches for words. “For what it’s worth,” he says, “I don’t think you’re failing anyone. Sounds like you’re fighting uphill most days, and the fact that you still show up to work… says enough.”
You let out a small breath, almost a laugh. A small piece of leather from your bag falls on your bare legs. “Yeah… I guess showing up counts for something.”
”It does,” he says, determined, without missing a beat.
The air between you and Joe shifts as silence drags on. It sits heavy over the two of you and you instantly regret ruining the easy-going energy that filled the car moments ago.
You lean back against the car and take a deep breath. It’s been a while since you sat quietly beside Joe and just let your presence do the job. Several years ago, you never thought you would ever do this again. That you could ever do this again.
“Y/N…” he starts, and his voice is now heavy, still steady, but now filled with weight. And you know what is about to be brought up. His eyes are set on something outside of the car, staring straight ahead through the windshield as his fingers pick on the skin around his nails. He exhales through his nose, shaking his head once.
He turns his face to the side slowly, meeting your eyes. “I’ve thought about this moment a lot,” he says quietly. “About what I’d say if I ever saw you again.”
The words hang between you, the AC’s soft hum filling the silence. Your chest tightens just a little but you don’t answer. You stay silent, giving him space.
“And… I guess there’s two things I really wanna say,” he continues, his voice low. “That… I don’t want you to think I meant to hurt you and… I’m so sorry.”
You inhale slowly through your nose. After a beat of silence, you finally spoke. “I know.” You glance down at your hands for a moment before looking up again. “That you wouldn’t mean to hurt me.”
His eyes move over your face, analyzing, trying to see if you really mean what you say. “How? I was a dick in that car.”
Despite the tension and topic at hand, a small, innocent smile finds its way onto your lips. “You were,” you say honestly, not accusing. As if stating a fact. “That day.” You notice the way his jaw tightens at that. You glance out the windshield for a moment, watching a group of people laugh their way down the sidewalk.
You let air out through your mouth as you try to find the right words. “And even though it took some time to remember that… I know you.” You pause, looking back at him. “Or at least, I knew Joe back then… and you didn’t do anything halfway. And you wouldn’t walk away unless you thought it was the only option.”
He remains silent. The eye contact is charged with emotions that have been brewing inside you for years. “It took a lot to get to that conclusion, trust me. You didn’t really give me a lot to work with… but I know you wouldn’t want me to get hurt. You wouldn't want that for anyone.”
Joe’s eyes drop to his hands. His mouth opens but not a sound comes out of it. He closes it and lifts his head back up again. You stay looking at each other for an extended moment before he finally speaks.
“That junior year at OSU…” He breathes, lets out a quiet humorless breath through his nose. “It messed me up more than I ever admitted. I broke my hand in practice. And when I came back, I wasn’t… anything. A fucking third string quarterback.”
You see how his jaw tightens, how his fingers curl against the wheel. “I had no path and no idea how to fix that. Just a lot of people looking at me like they’d already decided how my story ended… And I started believing them.” The silence stretch between you as he swallows. The air around you feels thick, heavy. “Every day I woke up feeling like I was… borrowing time, somehow. Like I was one bad practice away from being exposed. All the belief… and confidence I had in myself was gone. My sense of self was gone. Because I felt like I was football, and if I weren’t good at that… then who was I…”
Joe inhales sharply through his nose. “And you were… so good, so… steady. Your belief in me never wavered. Even when everybody else’s did, even when mine did.” He exhales. “That scared the hell out of me. I was scared you saw something in me that wasn’t even there. And… fuck, I didn’t want to bring you down with me, to disappoint you – punish you for being so…”
Joe doesn't find the word but you understand. You can’t handle the tension his gaze holds so you look away.
Joe doesn't find the word but you understand. You can’t handle the tension his gaze holds so you look away.
“When Coach O and LSU came into the picture… I knew it was a leap of faith. My last chance. But I couldn't– I didn’t want you to be dragged down with me, to have invested so much only for it to not work out. And long distance felt… cruel and selfish. I thought about it for so long, I somehow-” He stops while his brain works to find the right words. “All of a sudden it was time to leave and you didn’t know.” He shakes his head once. “I told myself it was probably for the best anyway, to just cut things cleanly – leave with as little noise as possible…”
You watch how his thumb rubs over his other hand roughly, like he’s trying to soothe an aching spot. “But I realized… it wasn’t. And it became clearer and clearer by every day that passed. That I fucked up. And I wanted to reach out and tell you how much I had fucked up, but after what I did? What right did I have to disturb you?” he says, his voice filled with remorse. “I know you’ve moved on… and that you don’t need any of this but I needed to get this off my chest and tell you… like the selfish bastard I can be.”
He takes a moment before continuing. His eyes find yours again and Joe hasn’t looked at you like this all night. Not really. “I shut you out of your own relationship. I didn’t even give you a chance to understand what was going on and decided for you… and for that I stress how sorry I am, Y/N.”
It takes you a while to form an answer. Not because you don’t know how to feel about it or what to say, but because you don’t know what to do with them. Ultimately, you redirect his words to 22 year old Y/N, the one who actually needed to hear those syllables leave his mouth.“You’re right, I don’t need your apology,” you say gently. “But I hear you. And I appreciate your honesty.”
Joe’s head falls back against the headrest. His eyes close, a slow breath leaving him like he’s been holding it in for years. You watch him. How his shoulders relax, how the tension leaves his jaw and the way his fingers grip on the wheel loosens.
The car stays silent. None of you say a word for a long time. You watch as the outside world continues on. You see how people open their mouths, how they jump around the sidewalk, but none of their sounds make it inside the car. It feels like someone, or something, is shielding you from everything else — creating this moment for only you and Joe. So you embrace it for a few moments longer.
You let out a soft chuckle, finally interrupting the quiet. “Your teammates must be wondering where you took off.”
Joe slowly opens his eyes, like he’s returning from wherever his mind went to. “Nah, they’re too caught up in celebrating to notice I’m not there.”
You shake your head, turning in your seat so you can face him better. “No, you guys won the whole conference and you lead them there. They’ll notice that their QB is missing! Go out there and party! You’ve deserved it!” Your hand moves animatedly as you speak while the other keeps your purse secure against your lap.
A smile spreads onto his lips. “The job’s not done yet, though,” he says. His smile turns into a cocky grin. “I’ll party for real when I win my ring.”
You can’t help but to laugh at his confidence, and with the way he speaks so surely. You can’t help but to believe that he will win it all. You can’t help but to wish he pulls through either. That he wins the one game he has talked about for as long as you can remember.
With your smile still lingering, you fish up your phone and open your and Jazmine’s text conversation. Your fingers quickly type out a text before looking up at Joe again. “I think I’m heading home,” you said. It’s been a long evening and then a long night, and the conversation that just happened made your head feel ever so slightly scrambled.
He looks at the clock and then at you. “Already?” he asks.
You shrug, glance at the clock displayed on the big screen on his dashboard. 1:22AM. “Well, nothing good happens after 2AM… so I’m just making sure I make it home before that. And I am pretty tired anyway.”
Joe lets out a chuckle at that, his eyes glimmering at the reference. “Alright,” he simply says, the small smile still on his lips. “I’ll drive you. Do you have everything with you?” He already moves his hands to turn on the car, a low hum from the engine filling the air.
It takes a while for you to process his words. “Oh, no, I’ll just walk. Or get an Uber. You have to-”
“Walk? I can’t have you walking home at half two in the morning,” he says as he wheels out of the parking spot, the engine working underneath you as the car moves down the street. He puts on his seatbelt as he keeps his hand on the wheel. You exhale as you accept that you’re being driven home by Joe. ”Do you have everything? Where’s your jacket?”
“Alexa takes care of it.” You put on your seatbelt.
Joe accepts it without question. ”OTR, you said?” You nod back.
He comes to a stop at a red light and reaches over to the display again. A few seconds later, just as the light turns green and Joe hits the pedal, Up Up & Away starts seeping through the speakers in the car. Your lips stretches into a smile as you hear the familiar tones, absentmindedly mouthing the same words Kid Cudi says over the beat. You see how Joe glances at you through your peripheral and sees the smile before he turns back to the road.
The nostalgia hits you immediately. Brings you back when Joe would drive around with you beside him in the passenger seat all those years ago. You would lightly bop your head to whatever song came on on your shared playlist and think about what life really is. It’s a different car he’s driving, and different Joe and you, but the feeling’s just the same. And you know he feels it too.
You give him short directions over the music. The car ride’s short, you only get through two songs before Joe pulls up outside the entrance to your apartment complex. He pauses the music, pressing a button on his wheel. You unbuckle your seatbelt.
“Thanks for the ride,” you say. Just like you had done so many times before.
“Of course,” he gently says. Just like he had done so many times before.
You open the door, the chilly Ohio air hits your right side first, goosebumps immediately prickling your skin. You turn back to him, a small smile on your lips. “Win that Super Bowl.”
He doesn’t say anything for several seconds, just looks at you. Then, carefully. “Do you still have the same number?”
You blink, not expecting that question at all. It takes you a moment to nod. Joe then offers you a smile; a small, careful one.
“Okay, good. I’ll text you. After I win the Super Bowl,” he says, a self-assured smile plastered on his face.
You give him another nod, your smile smaller now but still there. “Bye, Joe.” You climb out of the seat and turn to shut the door close.
“Bye.” The door disturbs the quiet night as it shuts close. There’s some distanced laughter, cars passing by as you walk up to the entrance. Your grip on your purse tightens as the cold surrounds you.
You turn and push in the code to open the entrance. When you look back, Joe’s Porsche hasn’t moved an inch. It’s a habit you remember always appreciating, he always made sure you’d get in safely before even thinking of driving off. You pressed the button to the elevator and waited, tiredness creeping closer. When you arrive at the third floor, your phone buzzes against your hand and you look down to see why.
It was a text from an unknown number.
“This job... you try to save as many people as you can. Sometimes that doesn't mean everybody. But if we can't find a way to live with that... then maybe nobody gets saved.”
- Captain America.
You smiled down at the screen as you stood outside of your door and read it. You remember how you and Joe went to watch it in the theaters after the two of you had done a month-long MCU binge together. Joe drove you there, ecstatic after the news of Spider-Man finally joining the cinematic universe. You thought it was so adorable, his excitement. He looked like a little kid. It was a break from another year of not playing football, constant competition and disappointment.
You read the quote again and it lands differently. Not as a movie line – but as a reply.
Your smile widens as you write back.
Nerd.
author's note: if you liked it, lemme know because this is nerve wrecking, lol. thanks to my irl Alex (@suprbrat) for being helpful and patient always, i <3 you.
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