Requested
Summary: The Reader accompanies her boyfriend Joe to an award show
Reader: female
Word count: 1 020
A/N: Today's post is a bit early, bc after aikido, the class is going to go out for drinks, so i'll come really late, and since i don't want to post when i'm that tired, i'm doing it now.
"I hate these shoes."
Disapprovingly you looked down on the high heels you were wearing. These things were dangerous. One wrong step, and you would fall and break something. On the other hand you could probably take them off and murder someone with them, as Joe had pointed out earlier.
"Nobody will notice if you take them off while sitting later," he told you now, tucking around on his suit jacket.
"True," you admitted, looking around, hoping to find any clue to when you were expected to take your seats.
It was an award show as any other really. But this time you were not here for yourself, but for Joe, your boyfriend. He had been nominated for best guitarist, and since the musicians were always invited to bring their partners, he had dragged you along. You knew how much he liked showing you off, always proud to have such an intelligent, talented and beautiful woman at his side. Honestly, you doubted yourself most of the time, but with Joe always ready to reassure you, you really had started to feel more confident recently.
"Come on, I think they got snacks over there," Joe pointed out, and took your hand, leading you over to a table with food.
"Honestly, seeing you like this, one could assume you're only here for the bruschetta," you teased, taking a grissini yourself.
"Maybe I am," Joe shrugged, "oh look, they got melon!"
For a while you joked around by the buffet, spending entirely too much time trying to identify an almost purple coloured paste, making fun of what it could be. The ringing of a bell announced that the guests were invited to take their seats.
Sitting down you immediately slipped out of the uncomfortable heels, and pushed them under your seat, so nobody would see. Joe laughed quietly, and reached over to take your hand.
Soon the moderator took the stage, and the show began, but you only payed attention half of the time. Mostly you were distracted by Joe playing with your fingers, but when suddenly his name was announced over the speakers, you listened up.
Joe seemed as confused as you, and looked at you wide eyed.
"What happened," he asked, as if he had put fire to something without intention.
"I think you won," you mumbled, with a grin, when all the people around you cheered and patted Joe's shoulder, or shouted congratulations.
"Oh!"
Quickly Joe scrambled to his feet, and kissed your head, before he shook a few hands, and made his way to the front, where he shook more hands, and exchanged a few words with the moderator.
Then he stepped to the microphone.
"Thank you so much, this means a lot," he smiled, holding out the little figure of a guitar, "There are really a ton of people I would like to thank, but naming every single one of them would take all night, so I'm gonna cut it down to four. I want to thank my band mates, Andy, Patrick, and Pete, for always having an open ear to my suggestions, and for always sticking with me, no matter how stressful stuff gets. We've done a couple of weird things these past years, and they've always been fun, and it would not have been possible without these for dudes. Thanks guys. The last person who I absolutely need to name is by beautiful girlfriend (y/n), she's sitting down there-"
He pointed to you, and you could see the people turn around to you, making your shake your head slightly before you covered your face with your hands to hide the blush on your cheeks.
"She's been with me for a long time now, and she deals with all my stupid ideas, and the late nights, and the long tours, and everything else that makes living with me pure hell. She's my inspiration, my voice of common sense, the best friend I never thought I'd find, the reason to get up in the morning, and honestly, I don't care how cheesy it sounds because it's true, she's the fucking light of my life. Without her, none of the things I've done these last years would have been possible, and she keeps encouraging me to try out new things all the time. So really this-" he held out the little trophy, " goes not as much to me as it goes to her. Thank you."
With that he stepped away from the microphone, and quickly climbed off the stage again. On his way back more people got up to congratulate him, and it took him a while until he was back next to you.
"You're a true hopeless romantic," you told him, making him grin.
"You loved it," he reminded you.
"Meh," you hummed, but both Joe and you knew you didn't mean it.
Smiling you looked up at him. Sometimes you wondered how someone could be as perfect as Joe. Of course he was not perfect in the sense of flawless, but he was flawed in exactly the ways you enjoyed.
Joe smiled back, and sat down next to you, your eyes never leaving each other's. Quickly he hooked his hand under your chin, and pulled you in for a sweet kiss.
You grinned against his lips, completely ignoring the ceremony that already continued.
"I love you so much," Joe whispered when he pulled away, his eyes soft and warm.
"I love you too," you told him, gently running your fingers over the side of his face making him lean in.
"What's the soonest we can get out of here, what do you think," Joe wondered quietly.
"I dunno, why, what's up?"
"I am terribly hungry, and the bruschetta from earlier is not really helping much," Joe whined, "I'd rather have some pizza. You know, take you, in your pretty dress, out to one of these 24/7 run down pizzerias."
You giggled at the idea, happy knowing that only Joe loved mixing the "worlds" up; the fancy musicians world and the world of the normal.
"Okay, I'm in," you agreed, "but the pizzeria needs to have grissini."