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goldfades · 4 days ago

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honeymoon! | JOE BURROW⁹ [006]

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MASTERLIST

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 4.1k

⟢ ┈ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | based on a request -> maybe a smutty blurb for the joe series from their honeymoon 😍 night the baby was conceived

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | plot w/ NSFW under the cut, mdni! pretty soft, honeymoon fucking, we all know how it goes. unprotected sex! (oops... that's how our little accident baby was made, ig) p in v, a whole lotta praise, maybe a little too much foreplay, dry humping? SO MUCH EFFING KISSING IT'S ACTUALLY INSANE,

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 began with sunlight slipping through the white linen curtains of their beachfront villa, casting warm, golden streaks across the bed. The sound of gentle waves crashing against the shore replaced the usual hum of alarm clocks and city noise. It was peaceful, a slow and languid awakening to the soft melody of Barbados.

You stirred first, the warm breeze from the open balcony brushing against your skin. The air smelled like salt and hibiscus, mingled with the faintest trace of sunscreen from the night before. Stretching out, your arm brushed against Joe’s chest, the steady rhythm of his breathing letting you know he was still fast asleep.

For a moment, you just watched him. His lashes rested on his cheeks, his hair an unruly mess from a restless sleep on the crisp sheets. His sun-kissed skin glowed faintly in the morning light, a preview of what the week ahead would bring. He looked peaceful, his usual intensity softened in this quiet morning moment.

Eventually, the tantalizing aroma of breakfast—sweet coconut, warm banana bread, and freshly brewed coffee—wafted into the room, urging you to move. You leaned over, pressing a kiss to Joe’s shoulder.

“Joe,” you whispered softly, your voice barely above the ocean breeze.

He groaned in response, his eyes still closed. “Five more minutes,” he muttered, pulling the sheet higher over his shoulder.

You laughed, tugging at the blanket. “If you don’t get up, I’m starting this honeymoon without you.”

His eyes cracked open at that, one brow arching lazily. “You wouldn’t dare.”

With a playful roll of your eyes, you slipped out of bed, grabbing the silky robe from the back of the door and tying it loosely around your waist. The cool tile floor under your bare feet was a sharp contrast to the warmth of the Caribbean morning. Joe watched you from the bed, his lips twitching into a soft smile as you peeked out onto the balcony.

The view stole your breath. A turquoise sea stretched endlessly toward the horizon, dotted with white sailboats that glided lazily across the water. The beach was a postcard come to life: soft, white sand scattered with seashells and bordered by swaying palm trees.

“Okay, now I’m up,” Joe announced, his voice gravelly from sleep as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed.

Breakfast was served on the villa’s private terrace, a table set for two with fresh tropical fruits, flaky pastries, and omelets stuffed with local spices. Joe poured you a glass of orange juice, and you returned the favor by slicing up pieces of mango to share.

The morning passed in the kind of leisurely bliss you could only find on an island vacation. After breakfast, you walked down to the beach, your fingers intertwined as the sun climbed higher into the sky. The sand was warm beneath your feet, and the occasional cool splash of the ocean sent shivers up your spine.

Joe insisted on carrying you over a shallow tidepool when you hesitated, laughing at your squeal as the water splashed higher than you expected. “Can’t have you chickening out now,” he teased, setting you down just as the next wave brushed against your calves.

By midday, you found yourselves sprawled out on two lounge chairs under a palm tree. Joe had traded his usual serious demeanor for something more relaxed, leaning back with a contented sigh as you read aloud from a cheesy romance novel you’d brought along. His teasing interruptions—“People actually say that?!”—had you both laughing until your cheeks hurt.

As the day unfolded, everything seemed perfect in its simplicity. The quiet moments between you, the way Joe’s hand lingered on your back when you walked past, or the way he absentmindedly kissed your forehead when you handed him a drink—it was all the kind of effortless love you’d dreamed of.

┈┈┈

The soft hum of the ceiling fan swirled with the salt-tinged breeze that swept through the villa, carrying with it the promise of a balmy Barbados night. Outside, the waves lapped lazily against the shore, their rhythmic song mingling with the distant chirping of tree frogs. The day had melted into evening seamlessly, the sky now painted in inky blues and dotted with stars.

You stood on the balcony, wrapped in one of Joe’s oversized button-ups, the hem brushing mid-thigh as you leaned against the railing. The ocean stretched endlessly before you, a dark expanse glimmering under the moonlight. Behind you, Joe emerged from the shower, his steps quiet on the cool tiles.

“You always steal my shirts,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing.

Without turning, you smirked. “That’s what you’re focusing on?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, his arms slipped around your waist from behind, his damp skin cool against your back as he pulled you close. His hands splayed over your stomach, his thumbs brushing small, deliberate circles against the fabric.

“You looked good out there today,” he murmured, his lips grazing the shell of your ear.

Your breath hitched at the soft intimacy of it. “You mean when I almost face-planted in the tidepool?”

Joe chuckled, the sound reverberating through his chest. “Even then. You make clumsiness look cute.”

You tilted your head to glance at him, raising an eyebrow. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

His grin was boyish, disarming. “Depends. Did it work?”

You rolled your eyes but leaned into him anyway, your body softening under his touch. His hands didn’t stop their exploration, sliding along your sides, his fingers brushing the edges of bare skin where the shirt didn’t quite meet your thighs.

“Joey,” you started, your voice dipping slightly as you tried to maintain composure.

“Hmm?” His lips found your neck, his movements slow and deliberate.

“You’re being distracting.”

“That’s kind of the point.” His words were muffled against your skin, but the grin in his voice was unmistakable.

He turned you around, his hands settling on your hips as he pressed you gently against the railing. His gaze was heavy-lidded, the playful glint in his blue eyes softened by something deeper, something intimate. He leaned in, resting his forehead against yours.

“You’re beautiful,” he said simply, the teasing gone now. His thumb brushed your cheek as if committing the moment to memory.

The vulnerability in his voice made your breath catch. You reached up, cupping his jaw, your thumb tracing the curve of his cheekbone. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

He laughed softly, the sound warm and familiar. “You’re terrible at taking compliments.”

“Maybe you’re just too good at giving them.”

Joe’s hands tightened on your hips, tugging you closer. “You’re lucky I like you.”

You raised an eyebrow, your lips twitching into a smirk. “Oh? Just ‘like’ me?”

He didn’t answer with words. Instead, his lips met yours, slow and unhurried, as though you had all the time in the world. His kiss was soft, yet his hands were firm, grounding you as they slipped under the hem of the shirt, warm against your skin.

When you finally broke apart, breathless, he rested his chin on the top of your head, holding you close. “For the record,” he murmured, “I more than like you.”

You tilted your head back to look at him, a teasing glint in your eyes. “I would hope so. You did marry me.”

His laughter rumbled through his chest as he leaned down to kiss you again. This time, the kiss was different—more hurried, more insistent. Before you could catch your breath or process the shift in his mood, Joe’s arms slid under your thighs, lifting you with ease. A startled laugh escaped your lips, quickly muffled as he kissed you again, walking the two of you back into the villa without breaking contact.

“Joe!” you managed between kisses, your fingers instinctively tangling in the damp strands of his hair. “You’re going to trip.”

He smirked against your lips, his confidence unwavering. “I’m a quarterback. I don’t trip.”

You wanted to argue, but the warmth of his lips and the steady strength of his hold on you left little room for coherent thought. His stride was purposeful, his hands secure on your thighs as he carried you through the open patio doors and into the softly lit living room. The sea breeze followed, carrying the scent of salt and hibiscus, but the cool air was no match for the heat radiating between the two of you.

By the time he reached the bedroom, you were breathless, your heart pounding for reasons that had nothing to do with the journey. He set you down carefully on the edge of the bed, his hands lingering on your waist, his eyes scanning your face as if searching for something.

“What?” you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joe shook his head, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Nothing. Just... you.”

You rolled your eyes, but the smile you tried to suppress gave you away. “That’s not an answer.”

“It’s the only one I’ve got.” His voice was lower now, a teasing edge to it as he leaned in, his hands framing your face. “You gonna keep arguing, or can I kiss you again?”

Your response was immediate, pulling him down to meet you halfway. This kiss was no longer hurried but deliberate, the weight of the moment sinking in as his hands moved with purpose, sliding under the fabric of the shirt you wore.

The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast long shadows across the room, and the sound of the waves outside became a distant murmur. For a while, the world shrank to just the two of you—Joe’s hands, his lips, his warmth surrounding you entirely.

The teasing was still there in the way he nipped at your bottom lip or murmured something smug when you let out a quiet gasp. But beneath it all was something deeper, something unspoken yet understood between you both.

When you finally broke apart, his forehead pressed to yours, both of you catching your breath, he grinned that boyish grin that always disarmed you. “So,” he said, his voice thick with amusement and affection, “still think I’m going to trip?”

You laughed softly, your fingers tracing idle patterns along the back of his neck. “No. But I might.”

Joe chuckled, pressing a kiss to your temple before easing you back against the pillows, the teasing glint in his eyes softening into something more tender. “Don’t worry,” he whispered, his voice a promise. “I’ll catch you.”

Joe’s lips grazed yours again, soft and deliberate, the teasing smile still lingering at the corner of his mouth. His hands settled at your waist, fingers brushing the hem of the oversized shirt you’d thrown on after your shower. It was technically his, the fabric worn and loose, but he didn’t seem to mind—especially as he slowly started to lift it, his knuckles ghosting over your bare thighs.

“I think this belongs to me,” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly. His baby blues flicked up to meet yours, daring you to argue.

“Does it?” you challenged softly, your hands sliding up his chest, feeling the warmth of his muscled skin under your palms.

Joe grinned, leaning in so his nose brushed against yours. “It does. But I’m willing to share—if you ask nicely.”

The laugh that bubbled out of you was cut short when his lips trailed along your jaw, his hands continuing their slow ascent, sending little shocks of heat through your skin. “You’re ridiculous,” you managed, though your breath hitched when his thumbs brushed the curve of your hips.

“And yet, here you are,” he teased, his voice a quiet rumble against your neck. His lips moved with deliberate slowness, leaving a trail of kisses that had you melting into his touch.

Your hands found their way into his blonde hair, tugging lightly in retaliation, which only made him chuckle. The sound vibrated against your skin, and you felt his grip on your waist tighten slightly.

“Careful,” he warned playfully, pulling back just enough to look at you. His eyes were darker now, filled with a heat that sent a shiver down your spine. “You keep doing that, and I won’t be able to stop.”

You raised an eyebrow, trying to keep your voice steady. “Who says I want you to?”

That was all the encouragement Joe needed. His smile turned wicked, and before you could say another word, he was easing you back onto the bed, his hands bracketing your face as he kissed you again—deeper this time, less teasing, more intent.

His weight settled above you, one hand slipping beneath the shirt to trace the curve of your ribs while the other tangled in your hair. The kisses grew slower but no less consuming, each one leaving you breathless and wanting more.

“God, you’re perfect,” he murmured, his voice almost reverent as he pulled back slightly to look at you. His thumb brushed over your cheek, his gaze softening despite the heat between you.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” you teased, though the words came out shaky, your heart racing under his touch.

Joe laughed softly, his breath warm against your lips. “Not so bad? I think I can do better than that.”

Joe’s teasing edge melted away, replaced by a deeper intensity. His lips pressed to yours with a hunger that left no room for playful quips or lingering hesitation. His hands moved with purpose, slipping under the thin fabric of the shirt as if it had always been in his way before unbuttoning it slowly, slipping it off of you, his blue eyes never leaving yours. You were only left in your bra and underwear, your whole body felt like it was on fire.

Your breath caught as his hands mapped every inch of bare skin they could find, the roughness of his palms contrasting with the softness of his touch. His fingers splayed against your waist, pulling you closer, like even the smallest gap between you was too much before he pulled you toward his crotch. You felt his bulge against your warmth, the feeling too dizzying, you just had to let out a small whimper, your head falling back into the plush pillow.

“You like that?” he murmured, the word barely audible as he leaned forward, his mouth trailed down your neck, each kiss leaving a warm flush in its wake as he began pushing his bulge against you, rougher this time.

“Joey,” you whimpered, your voice trembling as your fingers skimmed over his shoulders and down his back, feeling the taut muscle beneath.

He hummed in response, his lips finding the hollow of your throat, lingering there for a moment before moving lower. He slowly began moving his hips against your covered pussy, eliciting small noises from you. He was rock-hard, you could feel his excitement through the thin material of his gray sweats.

For a moment, he stilled, his eyes roving over you as if committing every detail to memory. “You’re so beautiful,” he said, his voice low and thick, his words sinking into your skin like a promise.

Heat bloomed in your chest, and before you could respond, his lips found yours again, firmer, deeper, his hand sliding up your side to cup your cheek. The world outside the villa ceased to exist; all that mattered was the way his touch sent a current through you, grounding you and setting you alight all at once.

You tugged at his shirt in response, your fingers fumbling slightly in your urgency. He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your lips, before leaning back just enough to help you. The fabric joined yours on the floor, and then he was back, his skin warm against yours, every inch of contact electric.

His hands skimmed over your thighs, hooking behind your knees to draw you closer. The air felt charged, the only sounds filling the room your uneven breaths and the gentle crash of waves outside. He began rocking his hips against yours, letting out a needy groan of his own.

“Please, Joe,” you moaned, breathless and oh so wet, your hand slipping to his chest to feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your palm.

“Please, what?” He challenged, his forehead leaning to rest against yours. His lips were curved, a cocky smiling gracing his features. Yeah, he wasn't giving in so easily—even if he was rock-hard and just as needy as you.

You rolled your eyes, your chest rising and falling as your eyes found his again. His baby blues were dilated and dark, the familiar lustful gaze glazing his eyes. But somehow, there was still that warmth and love you knew he felt for you.

“Just, please fuck me.”

That was all he needed.

His lips found yours again, harder this time, more insistent, as if the words you’d exchanged weren’t enough to convey the depth of his feelings. His hands slid to your hips, pulling you closer with a quiet, desperate kind of urgency that left no space between you, his body practically trembling with restraint.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he whispered against your lips, his voice low, his breath hot.

You tried to reply, but your words were swallowed by the kiss that followed, deeper, more fervent. His hands roamed, fingers splayed wide as they moved over the curves of your back, memorizing every inch. There was no hesitation now, no pretense—just raw affection and the kind of vulnerability that came from letting someone see all of you, heart and soul.

He broke away only briefly, his forehead pressed to yours, his blue eyes searching yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch. “I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you,” he admitted, his voice uneven, like the words cost him something.

The weight of his gaze and the sincerity in his voice sent a shiver through you. “I don’t think I’d ever want you to,” you murmured back, your fingers threading through his hair, tugging gently to anchor yourself.

That was all it took for his restraint to falter. His lips were back on yours, hungrier this time, his hands tightening their grip as if he was afraid you might slip away. His desperation wasn’t rushed or clumsy; it was reverent, like he was determined to make every moment count, to leave no part of you untouched by the depth of his adoration.

Finally, his hands began pulling off his sweatpants, his lips never leaving yours. He tugged them off swiftly, throwing them on the floor as he pulled away for a second, gripping your hips and pulling you impossibly closer. Joe's eyes never left yours as he slowly took off his briefs, your breath hitching. As soon as his briefs were off, his large fingers hooked on your panties and slipped them off.

His lips found yours again, moving forward slowly as he led himself toward your folds. You felt his breath hitch before he slowly pushed into you, broken moans leaving your lips. You already felt so full and he wasn't even a quarter inside yet.

You were sopping wet at that point, he could easily slip into you quickly—but he took his time, as if he was trying to memorize the way your cunt squeezed him so perfectly, how perfect you felt around his cock and how he swore your pussy was made for him. Joe was huge, that was never a secret—the whole “Big Dick Joe” hat was never really a joke.

You felt him fill you up slowly but surely, until he completely bottomed you out. Your hands were gripping his broad shoulders as your eyebrows furrowed in concentration, focusing on the feeling of Joe's cock stretching you out.

And you swore, no matter how many times you fuck—the feeling will never, ever get old.

“Oh God, yes,” you practically cried out as you squeezed his shoulders tighter, your nails digging into his warm skin. He groaned at the stinging feeling, the pleasure coursing through his body.

He let you adjust to his size as he began kissing you again, slower this time. The kiss grew more intense, trailing down your jawline and across your neck, each one carrying a weight that left you breathless. His hands remained steady on your hips as he let you adjust to his size, and yet there was an unmistakable tremor in the way his fingers pressed into your skin, like he was holding on for dear life.

Slowly, he began thrusting out of you, before crashing into you rougher. His patience was wavering, you could see it in his expression.

“Harder, Joe,” you moaned breathlessly as you squeezed his shoulder harder, gazing up at him through your lashes.

That was all he needed. Joe began rocking into you, the bed moving along with each of his hard thrusts. His hands gripped your thighs before lifting your legs onto his shoulders, your hands falling back on the bed as he began fucking you even deeper. The new angle made you cry out in utter pleasure, gripping the sheets as he groaned at the feeling of your walls tightening around him.

“Say you’re mine,” he murmured against the hollow of your throat as he leaned in, his voice rough with need, the words barely audible over the sound of the bed creaking beneath the two of you.

“I’m yours,” you answered without hesitation, your voice trembling but sure. The words seemed to undo him further, a shiver running through his frame as his hips began moving at an almost impossible speed, his forehead dropping against your shoulder.

“You don’t know what that does to me,” he whispered breathlessly, his breath hot against your skin. His hands gripped your hips firmly as if to ground himself, but his lips never stopped their journey—brushing along your collarbone, lingering where he could feel the rapid beat of your pulse.

His kisses became softer for a moment, almost trembling with the intensity of what he was trying to say without words. The movements of his hips were a perfect blend of desperation and purpose—like every thrust, every kiss, was a vow, a promise of just how much you meant to him.

But the desperation was still there, simmering just beneath the surface, waiting to bubble over again.

You felt that familiar tightening in your lower stomach, and your walls tightened around his cock. He was close, too—you could feel it in the way his hips rocked against yours, harder and more frantic than the last and the way he let out his groans freely.

Time seemed to dissolve, measured only by the gentle rhythm of the waves outside and the warmth of Joe’s touch. Every movement between you was deliberate, filled with a perfect mix of care and roughness that made the world outside feel irrelevant.

His hands never strayed far, always returning to cradle your face or trace patterns along your thighs as though grounding himself in the moment.

And right as you were about to go over the edge, Joe’s hand slipped to yours, his fingers threading through yours in a gesture so tender it brought an ache to your chest. The knot in your stomach snapped violently, your orgasm hitting you like a truck, rippling through you harshly.

You cried out loudly in pleasure, the sound echoing in the empty villa. A few more frantic thrusts and Joe was spilling into you, his groans heavenly and loud. You both caught your breathes, slow and heavy all at once. The villa was quiet except for the shared sounds of your breathing, the ocean breeze filtered in through the slightly open windows, cool and refreshing against the heat you shared, carrying the faint scent of salt and hibiscus.

After a moment, his lips brushed your temple, your cheek, the corner of your mouth, as if he couldn’t get enough, as if memorizing you was his life’s work.

“You okay?” he murmured again, his voice softer now, almost reverent, his forehead pressed lightly against yours.

“Yes,” you replied, breathless but certain, your hand slipping to his chest to feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your palm. “Perfect, actually.”

The night stretched on in a haze of soft laughter, quiet reassurances, and the feeling of being utterly cherished. By the time you lay tangled together beneath the linen sheets, exhaustion pulled at your limbs, but your heart was light. Joe’s arm was slung protectively around your waist, his breath warm against your shoulder.

“Love you,” he murmured, the words slurred with sleep but no less sincere.

You smiled, your fingers tracing lazy circles on the back of his hand. “I love you, too.”

The moonlight poured through the open window, silver light painting your intertwined forms as the waves provided a lullaby. With Joe’s steady presence beside you, you felt more at peace than ever—like the rest of the world could wait, because here, in this moment, you had everything you could ever need.

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