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joeyfranchise · 6 months ago

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cuz you know that it’s delicate

joe burrow x fem!reader

summary: what happens when joe’s teammate slips a joke about your size difference and it sends you spiraling? being in love with joe since college has been tough but what happens when he starts figuring it out and trying to unravel you more?

warnings: SMUT, 18+ ONLY, MDNI. heaaaavy size kink, joe being a smartass should be it’s own warning, language, p in v, fingering, oral (f. receiving), roughness. probably more? this one was so much fun, plzzz stick around til the end. 🤭

word count: 3.1k!

note: heyyy everyone! my first joey smut 🤭 i hope y’all love it and again MDNI!! (shoutout to my boo @slimshiesty, hate me later and that stray ball part is rotting in my brain, so i snuck a lil of it in here as an ode to you. ily bbg. 💗) (also another taylor swift title bc i fr couldn’t think of anything else plus i used it a bit.. i swear i’m not trying to steal anyones thing i love all the joey swifties)

tags: @slimshiesty @starsinthesky5 (plz message me or send an ask to be added!) part 2

sexual frustration has to be one of the worst things in the world. sexual frustration at the hands of your best friend, however, takes the cake.

it started at a party two weeks ago when you were invited out by joe, the star nfl quarterback, certified dweeb, and your very best friend all wrapped into one.

flashback

you were sitting around with joe and some of his teammates, listening in on their conversations and people watching the rest of the time. it was easiest for you to hang out with joe and ja’marr since you knew them from college, but the rest of their teammates and their teammates partners were really cool too, and all so welcoming to you.

everyone was laughing and joking, having a laid back time, picking on each other for random things. that was, until, someone mentioned how funny it was to see you standing next to joe, being that he was well over a foot taller than you.

“what? how’s it funny?” joe asked, glancing between you and his teammate. “because you make her look so tiny! like a little doll. get up and stand next to each other.”

you were reluctant to move from your seat, hating where this was leading. it was already hard enough having feelings for your best friend over the span of a few years, but this was crossing dangerous territory. kink territory.

for you, there was something about how much bigger than you joe was. he towered over you. his body was lean but built with thick muscles. he could quite literally pick you up and sling you around like a rag-doll. (and honestly if he did, you’d thank him.)

you hoped his teammate pointing out your size difference wouldn’t be turned into a big deal, but once joe pulled you out of your chair to stand next to him, it was like the gates of hell opened.

you stood side by side, your head barely even reaching his armpit. everyone around the table laughed, including joe. “damn, i guess i never really focused on how little you are, y/n.” joe laughed, and placed his forearm on top of your head like an armrest.

alarms went off in your head. ABORT MISSION. ABORT MISSION.

you cleared your throat quickly, and came to your senses, shoving joe off before getting back into your seat. “maybe i’m not small, maybe you’re just a freakishly large man.” you remark, trying to keep your voice even.

“nah,” he replied, sitting down next to you again, “you’re sooooo tiny.” he laughed, wiggling his eyebrows at you. you flipped him the finger. “fuck you big bird.” you snarked before downing the rest of your drink. god knows you need it. you hoped that your pink cheeks would be chalked up to the alcohol and that nobody else had caught on.

the next instance came a few days later, on a sunday, and it was much worse than the first. so, so much worse.

flashback to sunday

you came to the bengals’ home stadium to watch their game, and since it was early you figured you’d go down to the field to say hi to joe and some of your other friends on the team.

you made it down and waved hi to ja’marr, tee and sam before making your way to joe. he spotted you and smiled, walking in your direction to meet you halfway.

you decided on wearing one of his jerseys and a pair of jeans, something simple and comfortable. as soon as he made it to you, the first thing he did was look you up and down and then pick up the sleeve of the jersey before chuckling.

“damn, this thing is swallowing you!” he comments. you playfully smack at his arm. “shut up, joey.”

“it’s cute, though. you look nice. are you excited for the game?”

you don’t give yourself much time to process that “cute” comment. wtf does that even mean? who cares. ABORT MISSION.

“of course i’m excited! i can’t wait to watch you guys kick some ass today—“

your sentence is cut off abruptly as joe grabs you and lifts you, turning your bodies so his back is now facing the opposite direction on the field. his grip on you is so tight that your chest is pressed into his stomach. you look up at his face, his expression a mix between anger and concern. you can feel your cheeks heat up and your eyes widen in disbelief.

“um, joe, you’re bear hugging the hell out of me right now. wanna put me down and explain what happened?”

he lets you down gently, reaching up to run a hand through his hair. “stray ball was coming right at you. i didn’t want it to hit you, it would’ve hurt you pretty bad.”

you reach a hand up and pat his chest, feeling the thick muscles. “thank you!” you respond, once again monitoring your tone. “i’m gonna head up and talk to everyone, ok?” you ask, already moving to leave. “yeah, ok.” joe says, focusing his attention on the ground. you can tell he’s contemplating something, but you don’t want to ask. you want to get out of there as quickly as possible.

the final instance came a few days later when you went to joe’s house just to hang out and have dinner.

flashback to wednesday night

you park your car in joe’s garage and step out, tucking your phone and keys in your pocket before heading up the stairs. before you make it to the door, joe’s already opening it and waiting in the doorway.

“hi bub!” you call, pushing past him and stepping inside, kicking off your shoes by the door. he greets you back sweetly and the two of you go sit on barstools in the kitchen, just catching up on things that have gone on this week. you rant to joe about your job and he listens intently, offering what advice he can.

he rants back to you about things going on with the team, and frustrations he’s having on the field. you try to return the favor and offer him some advice, but you know you aren’t of too much help. joe appreciates it regardless.

soon after your food arrives, you find yourselves in the living room, sitting on the couch side by side as a movie plays. you and joe always loved just being around each other, you had so deep of a connection that oftentimes words didn’t need to be shared at all.

you both enjoyed those moments.

you felt yourself starting to doze off until joe laughed at something in the movie, the sound waking you a bit.

“oh, sorry. you can go to sleep.” he whispers, pulling you into his side and wrapping his arm around your shoulder. you appreciate his warmth and you rub your head on his shoulder as you get comfy. you hear joe chuckle.

“what’s funny?” you mumble, your eyes still closed. “it’s like i’m hyper-aware now of how small you are next to me. it’s so cute.”

you make no outward moves or sounds, but inside you are screaming. yelling. this is the worst one yet.

you don’t know it yet, but joe’s figured it out. he’s seen you get flustered three times now over these comments, and he knows something is going on in your brain when they’re said. he isn’t aware if you have feelings for him like he does for you, but he knows you liked when he picked you up so easily on the field the other day.

it was effortless to him, despite what you might think of yourself.

you sit next to him in silence, eyes still closed, trying to control your breathing. just try to fall asleep again you tell yourself, hoping that joe has no idea. if you only knew.

when you wake in the morning, you’re still snuggled on the couch with him as the soft morning light shines gold around the living room. you shake him awake.

“joey, i gotta get going. i need to go home and get ready for work and you have thursday practice.”

he pulls you in closer for a moment, hugging you bye, and then wishes you a good day at work. you bolt out the door and to your car as fast as you can, heading home to wash the previous day away in the shower.

end of flashbacks

so, this is where you are now.

it’s been almost a week since you’ve talked to joe, avoiding him because you aren’t sure what to say or do. part of you knows he has something figured out, but you don’t know what or how much.

you’re terrified to let him in on your feelings, what’s going on in your head, because you’re delicate and you don’t want to ruin something that has always been there for you.

the other part of you knows you have to tell him, you need to tell him. you love him, you lust after him. the comments that keep being made about your sizes are driving you to the point of insanity that nothing will fix it unless joe manhandles you as rough as you can take it and he fucks it out of you.

you’re pretty sure your vibrator is gonna be on its last leg soon.

alright, i gotta call him. i gotta get this over with.

you grab your phone off the kitchen counter and dial his number, listening to it ring for a few moments.

“hello?” he finally answers, sounding a bit upset.

“hey joey. sorry i haven’t been talking to you this week. i just— i think i need to talk to you about some stuff and.. would you mind coming over later?”

he says nothing for a moment, but you hear him blow out a long breath. “yeah, of course, y/n.” he finally says. “i can be over around 7?”

you check the clock on the stove, it reads 4:34pm.

“7 sounds great! see you then!” you say, hanging up quickly. now you play the waiting game.

all your chores are done, and you take a lovely everything shower to help calm your nerves, and you make sure to drink plenty of water and have a snack as you tell yourself affirmations.

it’s going to be okay, he’s my best friend. he will understand. he will still be my friend regardless, he’s always been there for me. if he rejects me, nothing will change that.

you sit on the couch and scroll your phone as you wait. there’s still just a bit over an hour before joey will arrive, so you waste time scrolling tiktok, cozy on the couch.

soon enough you hear the doorbell, and you jump off the couch to answer it, stepping aside to let joe in.

he sits on your couch, waiting for you to join him and start speaking. “joe, i, um.. i hav-“

he cuts you off. “you have feelings for me? you like it when people compare our sizes because it turns you on?” he smirks, leaning back on the couch, crossing his arms behind his head. he’s manspreading now, his thick thighs on full display. your mouth falls open for a moment.

“yeah. essentially exactly that.” you finally reply.

“so what are we gonna do about that?” he questions, pulling you into his lap. you place your hands on his chest instinctively, and before you know what’s happening he‘s pulling you in for a heated kiss.

his lips are soft against yours and he gently prods at your bottom lip, sliding his tongue past as you open it. he tastes like mint, it’s intoxicating you. one minute his large hands are splayed over your back holding you to him, the next he’s lifting you off the couch by grabbing underneath your armpits and carrying you down the hall, roughly body-slamming you on the bed.

“dude, save the UFC moves for ja’marr!” you groan, sucking in a large breath. joe jumps on the bed, caging you in by placing his knees on either side of your hips and his hands next to your head.

“no, i don’t think so.” he smirks, leaning in closer until your noses are nearly touching. you felt your cheeks heating up at his close proximity, and his eye-contact with you was starting to feel intimidating, even though you had just been sharing such a passionate kiss. you hated that you could feel your wetness soaking through your panties just from him trying to wrestle you.

he blows gently on your face and you shove at him. he laughs you off and leans even closer, pressing the tip of his nose to yours before moving away and leaning down to whisper in your ear.

“this would be a lot easier if you’d just admit that you want me to manhandle you. you want me to go rough, right?” he teases. you’ve had enough of his smugness. you grab the back of his neck and pull him in for another kiss, tugging at his hair and nipping his bottom lip. he groans into you. he stands from the bed, picking you up again, carrying you across the room before roughly slamming your body against the wall.

you let out a strangled moan, loving the feeling of him using all his strength on you.

“can i take your shorts off?” he asks, looking into your eyes.

“fuck yes, please.” you breathe out, exhilarated.

joe yanks your shorts and panties down your legs in one swift motion, kneeling down in front of you. he’s able to keep your body held up and pressed against the wall. he looks up at you with questioning eyes, making sure this is okay. you give him a soft nod in response.

he leans in and throws one of your legs over his shoulder. he starts by pressing the smallest kiss to your clit, and then licks a slow, languid stripe up your core. you hiss, your body arching off the wall at the new sensation. when you look down, you find him looking up at you, his beautiful blue eyes trained on your face.

your eyes roll back in your head as he continues his ministrations. you feel the hand that isn’t holding you against the wall rubbing circles on your inner thigh before joe slowly slips a finger into you.

you quickly approach your orgasm, your stomach tight with anticipation. joe doesn’t let up, working you there until your body feels like it’s being dunked into warm bath water, the feeling covering you from head to toe. it takes you a minute to regain your sense of self. joe pulls his fingers from your core and removes your leg from his shoulder, standing back up before lifting you so your legs are around his waist.

you waste no time pulling him in for a kiss. “holy shit, joey!” you moan, baffled at what just happened. he smirks into your kiss.

for the second time, you’re thrown onto the bed. you sit up, propped on your elbows as you watch joe stalk closer, his erection very obvious in his shorts. he pulls his shirt over his head and you do the same, unclasping your bra just after so that you’re completely bare for him.

you chalk your forwardness up to being comfortable with him, normally you wouldn’t have the confidence to act this way. neither would joe, actually, but you shrug it off.

you don’t remember seeing him strip his shorts off or climb on top of you, but you know you’re kissing him again. you can’t get over how good his lips feel. one of his hands traces your curves, he runs his fingers along your body until his large hand is cupping your breast.

he moves his kisses to your neck and you gasp, reveling in the feeling of him kissing and touching you softly and sweetly.

you look down at his throbbing cock and suddenly you feel intimidated. joe hears you gasp. he lets out a soft laugh.

“don’t talk a big game and then act scared of it, baby.” he teases, pressing light kisses to your cheeks. you swallow thickly.

joe reaches down and strokes himself, spitting on his hand to slick himself up. he looks at you once again for confirmation, and you nod to him. he helps you get comfortable beneath him, positioning your legs around his waist as he pushes his tip in. you suck in a harsh breath.

it stings, but it isn’t the worst thing. he moves against you slowly, sliding in inch by inch until he bottoms out. he looks down and you, your faces inches apart, and you giggle.

“what is it bub?” he asks, smiling softly. “they weren’t kidding calling you big dick joe.” you laugh out. joe laughs too.

after giving you a few minutes to adjust, he starts moving hips, rocking into yours slowly. you think this is what the peak of euphoria feels like.

he leans back down to kiss you, his hand finding your throat and squeezing ever so slightly. your back is arched, your chest pressed to his as your hands tangle through his hair. his hands move down, finding your hips and holding them down to the bed. you moan at the rough grip.

he starts going harder, his hips pistoning into yours as you continue kissing, both of you moaning out your pleasure.

“joey, i-i’m close.” you warn, your body covered in a sheen of sweat. you felt it again, you were so close to that warmth once again pulsing over your body.

until.

knock knock knock.

what was that? you thought. you tried to focus on joe but everything seemed to be slipping away.

then, there it was again. the knocking. and the shrill of your phone ringing.

you startled awake, sweat covering your body. you looked at your phone screen. 7:10pm. one missed call from joe.

you threw your throw blanket off, trying to gather your thoughts. what the fuck? what is happening?

you thought you’d just had the best fuck of your life, that everything would be okay with you and joe but… it was just a dream? you dozed off and you didn’t even know it.

“y/n, let me in!” you hear joe yell from the opposite side of the door. you’re panicking, your body is hot, your clothes are stuck to you. still, you get up and almost sprint to the door. you open it, taking in his appearance. just like your dream.

black shorts, black shirt. backwards cap.

“can i come in? are you okay?” he asks. you watch as he takes in your appearance. sweaty hair stuck to your neck, your eyes glazed over.

“um, yeah joe. i’m okay. come in.” you step aside, inviting him in, just like your dream. he sits down.

“so, what did you wanna talk about?” he asks. you sit down next to him, blowing out a long breath. this was gonna be a longggg conversation.

2K notes · View notes

v6quewrlds · 6 months ago

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❝ pretty little thing, j. burrow. ❞ ‎ ‎ ┉

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀summary: it is a rare quiet morning for you and joe. while you plan to sleep in and take it easy, your husband has other more active plans.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀author's note: my first joe fic, everybody cheer!! i did not plan for it to be this long but she's fresh, she's cute, i like her. i hope you all like it <333 requests are open for headcanons, texts, blurbs, fics, etc.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀warnings: smut, please do not interact with my work if you are under 18. language, sexual content, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, penetration, very slight praise kink, fingering, joe is pussy drunk fr fr.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀pairing: joe burrow x black!wife!reader.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀word count: 6.7k.

You stirred in the bed, the morning light creeping through the blinds. The soft hum of the city outside barely registered in your sleep-laden ears. The bed shifted as Joe's arm snaked around your waist, gently pulling you closer. "Morning, beautiful," he murmured, his breath warm against your neck.

Your eyes fluttered open to meet his playful gaze. "Mornin'," you mumbled, still clinging to the last vestiges of sleep.

Joe leaned in, kissing you gently. "No meetings today?"

You yawned, stretching languidly. "Nope, not a single one."

Joe's grin grew wolfish. "Perfect," he said, his hand sliding down to your thigh. His voice was low, his eyes dark with desire.

You giggled, swatting at him playfully. "What are you doing, you hornball?"

Joe's grin only grew wider. "What does it look like I'm doing?" he replied, his hand continuing its journey under the covers.

You rolled your eyes but couldn't hide your smile. "It's barely seven in the morning, Joe."

"Exactly," Joe said, his hand reaching its destination and squeezing at your ass, causing you to gasp. "We've got all day to do whatever we want."

"And what is it that you want to do?" You asked, your voice teasing as you felt his fingers dance along your skin.

Joe's eyes lit up with mischief. "I want to fuck my gorgeous wife," he said bluntly, his voice thick with lust.

You rolled your eyes again, feigned annoyance lacing your tone. "Always so romantic," you teased, even as your body responded to his touch.

"Well, it's been a while since we had a morning like this," Joe said, his hand moving between your legs, stroking you lightly. "I want to make it count."

Your giggles turned into moans as Joe's fingers found their mark, his touch sending waves of pleasure through your body as they danced over your sensitive pearl. "You're insatiable," you murmured, your manicured hands gripping the strands of his blonde hair as your lips found each other again in a heated kiss.

Your foreplay grew more intense, Joe's hand working your body with the precision of a maestro, drawing out your pleasure with every stroke. Your breath hitched as his thumb circled your clit, your legs trembling against his muscular thigh. You could feel him growing hard against you, his arousal pressing into your side.

"Fuck me, Joe," you whispered, your voice needy as the ache between your legs grew.

With a low growl, Joe complied, rolling you onto your back and positioning himself above you. He kissed you deeply, his tongue tangling with yours, as he entered you in one smooth thrust. You arched your back, your nails digging into the bed sheets as Joe began to move. He was rough and unrelenting, your bodies slapping together in a rhythm that filled the room with the sound of passion.

Joe's eyes never left yours, the intensity of his gaze matching the force of his movements. "You're so fucking tight," he murmured, his voice strained with effort. "I can't get enough of you."

Your eyes rolled back in your head as Joe's words sent a jolt of pleasure through you. "You talk too much," you gasped, your own voice laced with desire.

Joe chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. "Oh, I'm just getting started," he said, leaning down to nip at your earlobe. He knew exactly how to push your buttons, how to make you crazy with want. His hips slammed into yours, the headboard knocking against the wall in a steady beat that echoed your passion.

You wrapped your legs around Joe's waist, pulling him deeper, urging him faster. You were wet and ready for him, your body responding to his every touch like a finely tuned instrument. He groaned, the sound vibrating through you as he picked up the pace, your bodies moving in a symphony of need.

Your lovemaking was raw and uninhibited, a dance you'd perfected over the years. You knew each other's bodies so well, every curve and dip, every sensitive spot that could send the other spiraling over the edge. As Joe thrust into you, your eyes locked, a silent communication passing between you that was as intimate as your joined bodies.

“Come on, baby, take this dick,” Joe urged, his voice gruff with desire as he pumped into you with a fervor that left you gasping for air. You could feel the tension building within you, your core tightening around him with every powerful stroke. The bed creaked in protest under your combined weight, the sound melding with your moans and gasps.

“You’re going to make me come, Joey,” you panted, your eyes glazed with passion.

“That’s the plan,” he replied with a wicked smile, increasing his pace. He watched your chest rise and fall rapidly, your breaths growing shallower with each thrust.

Your walls tightened around him, your moans turning into a high-pitched whine. Her nails dug into his back, leaving trails of fire on his skin. The sight of your pleasure, the feel of your body clamping down on his, was too much for Joe to resist. He bit his lip, fighting to hold back his own climax. But as your cries grew louder, he lost all control, driving into you with a fierce growl.

“Shit, baby.” Joe groaned as his climax neared, his hips moving erratically. He felt your body tense, your legs quivering around him. “You gonna come for me?” he asked, his voice thick with passion.

“Fuck yes, Joe, I’m coming!” Your moans only served to push Joe further into his trance. “Wanna come for you,” you whined into his ear.

“You’re gonna come on my cock, be a good girl for me, aren’t you baby?” Joe whispered, his eyes gleaming as he watched the ecstasy play out on your face. You nodded, your breaths coming in short pants, your eyes fluttering closed.

The tension between you grew palpable, until finally, your back arched off the bed with a scream of pleasure. Joe’s eyes rolled back in his head as he felt you tighten around him, your muscles pulsing in a delicious rhythm that sent him hurtling over the edge. He filled you with his seed, your bodies shuddering in unison as you reached your peak.

You lay there for a moment, panting and spent, your hearts racing in sync. Joe’s chest heaved with the exertion, his body slick with sweat, as he collapsed onto yours, his weight pressing you into the mattress. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close, savoring the feeling of his warmth against your skin.

"I love you," Joe murmured, kissing your neck softly.

"I love you too," you whispered, your voice still trembling from your orgasm.

As you lay there, Joe’s mind drifted to his morning routine, his thoughts of a hard workout fighting against the post-coital bliss. He propped himself up on his elbow, looking down at you. "You coming to the gym with me?"

You groaned, playing coy. "After that performance, I might need a nap first."

Joe chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Come on," he said, kissing the tip of your nose. "It'll do you good."

You sighed dramatically, but the twinkle in your eye gave you away. "Fine, but you're carrying me there."

With a smirk, Joe didn't need further prompting. He hoisted you over his shoulder in a fireman's carry, your squeals of surprise turning into laughter. Her long coils cascaded down his back as he marched towards your closet, his bare feet cold against the hardwood floor. You playfully slapped at his backside, trying to wriggle free, but his grip was firm.

"You're not getting out of this," he said, his voice filled with good-natured determination.

"Put me down, Joe," you giggled, your cheek pressed against his shoulder as you attempted to squirm away.

"Nope, you said you'd come with me, so you're coming," Joe said with a smug grin, his muscles flexing as he set you down in the walk-in closet, turning to find your workout gear.

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn't deny the thrill of excitement that shot through you. It had been too long since you'd had the energy to keep up with Joe's intense workout routines. You watched him rummage through your neatly organized space, his toned ass on full display in his boxer briefs. Despite your protests, you felt a familiar stirring of excitement.

He pulled out matching sets of black workout clothes, tossing yours onto the bed. "You can thank me later," he said, a knowing smirk playing on his lips.

With a mock pout, you slipped into your gear, your curves hugged tightly by the spandex. You had to admit, it felt good to be out of your business attire and into something that allowed you to move freely. Joe couldn't help but steal glances at you as you made your way to the home gym. You caught him looking and shot him a playful glare, which only made him grin wider.

Once in the gym, Joe turned on his workout playlist, the bass-heavy beats filling the space and setting the mood. You warmed up together, stretching your muscles in a tug of flexibility and strength. You couldn't help but feel a sense of pride as you watched Joe move with such grace and power. He'd always been fit, but his dedication to his career had sculpted him into something truly awe-inspiring.

You began your workout, Joe lifting weights that seemed impossibly heavy while you hit the treadmill. Despite your initial hesitation, you found that your body was responding well to the exertion. You pushed yourself, the endorphins flooding your system as you picked up speed, feeling the burn in your legs. The scent of sweat and effort filled the air, a heady mix that was oddly intoxicating.

Joe caught your eye from across the room, his own workout taking on a more intense edge. You were both so focused on your routines, yet couldn't help but steal glances at each other. The way your breasts bounced with each step on the treadmill, the way Joe's biceps bulged with every curl. You were both aware of the effect you had on each other, the sexual tension building again as the minutes ticked by.

You stepped off the treadmill, your body glistening with sweat. You grabbed a towel from the rack and wiped your face, watching Joe from the corner of your eye. He was doing lunges now, his thighs flexing with each powerful movement. You couldn't help but lick your lips, remembering how those same muscles had felt under your fingertips earlier.

"You okay over there?" Joe called out, a smirk playing on his lips as he caught you ogling him.

You laughed, snapping out of your daze. "Fine, just admiring the view," you said with a wink, grabbing a set of dumbbells.

Joe's smirk grew into a full-blown grin. "Keep that up, and I might have to show you some more of the view," he teased, not missing a beat in his lunges.

You rolled your eyes, but the heat in your cheeks gave you away. You began your dumbbell routine, the clanking of the weights a metronome to the pounding bass of Joe's playlist. You worked out in tandem, your movements synchronized despite the different exercises. Joe couldn't help but admire your dedication, and the way you pushed yourself despite your initial protests. You'd always been strong, not just physically, but mentally as well. Her resilience was one of the things that had first drawn him to you all those years ago.

The air grew thick with your exertion, the scent of sweat and pheromones a potent cocktail that only added to the tension. As Joe moved to the bench press, he watched your ass dip as you did squats, your toned muscles flexing with each descent. His eyes traced the lines of your body, memorizing every curve, every inch. It was all he could do to focus on his own workout, his thoughts wandering to the delicious ways he'd like to explore your body again once you were done.

You felt his gaze on you, and you couldn't help but push yourself harder, a smirk playing on your lips as you caught his reflection in the floor-to-ceiling mirrors. You knew exactly what he was thinking, and it only served to stoke the fire within you. You'd always had a bit of an exhibitionist streak, and the idea of Joe watching you, wanting you, was incredibly arousing.

You pushed through your routines, the room echoing with the sound of your breaths and the clank of metal. Your muscles began to burn, but you didn't stop, your eyes never leaving Joe's reflection. You could see his own workout was taking its toll on him, his face a mask of concentration and effort. Yet, you knew he was just as aware of you as you were of him. It was a silent game of seduction played out amidst the grunts and groans of exertion.

As Joe finished his last set of bench presses, he looked over at you, who was now doing some ab work. Her stomach muscles rippled as you worked through the last of your crunches. With the final crunch, you sat up, catching Joe's eye and sticking your tongue out playfully. He chuckled, feeling the blood rush to his cheeks. You'd always had this playful, competitive streak in your relationship, and it was clear you was enjoying pushing his buttons as much as he enjoyed pushing yours.

You decided to take a quick break, chugging water and wiping the sweat from your faces. You couldn't help but lean into Joe's side, feeling the heat of his body against yours. He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you in tightly. "Shower?” he suggested, his voice low and filled with promise.

Your eyes sparkled with mischief. "Race you," you said, taking off at a sprint towards the bathroom. Joe chuckled, following close behind. You stumbled into the shower, your laughter echoing off the tiles as you both struggled to get the temperature just right. The water cascaded down your bodies, washing away the grime of your workout and leaving you gleaming.

Under the spray, Joe's hands found your body, his touch gentle, cherishing the casual intimacy as the warm water hit your skin. You leaned into him, your head tilting back to allow the water to run down your neck and over your breasts. The shower was a cocoon of steam and sensuality as you took turns washing each other, your eyes locked, smiles playing on your lips.

“Alright, what’s going on up there?” You asked as you looked at Joe, your eyes twinkling with loving concern, and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “You’ve been avoiding having any real conversation all morning, Joe.” Her voice was soft, not accusatory, just curious.

Joe sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly as he leaned against the shower wall. The hot water beat down on his broad back, the steam obscuring the tension in his face. There was no point in hiding his thoughts from his wife. You knew him better than anyone else, and you’d be the first to call him out on his mood swings. You knew exactly what made him tick.

"It's the team," Joe began, his voice echoing off the tiles. "We're playing like shit." He paused, his eyes closing briefly as the warm spray washed over his face. "The defense is a joke, and the coaching...it's just not there."

Your eyes softened, and you reached out to gently rub his chest. You knew how much the game meant to him, how much he put into it. "You're doing everything you can, Joe," you reassured him, your voice soothing. "Everyone can see that you're playing out of your mind. best QB rating in the league, over 80% completion, anyone with a brain knows you’re not the problem Joe.”

Joe leaned into your touch, his eyes still closed. "It's just...frustrating," he admitted. "I feel like I'm carrying the whole team on my back."

Your hand stilled on his chest, your expression serious. "You know I'm here for you, right?" you said, your voice steady. "Through all of it."

Joe's eyes snapped open, meeting yours. "I do," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "And I'm sorry for taking it out on you. I know I’m a dickhead sometimes with my moods. It’s just hard not to let it get to me."

"You are a dickhead sometimes," You teased lightly, your fingers tracing the contours of Joe's abs, eliciting a chuckle from him. "But, unfortunately, I love you for it. I love seeing how passionate you are about your work.”

The warm water cascaded over you, mixing with your laughter as Joe leaned in to kiss you. It was a gentle kiss, one that spoke of your deep connection and understanding. It was moments like these that made you realize how much you'd missed in your usually hectic lives. You pulled away slightly, your gaze searching his.

"Thank you," Joe murmured, his eyes meeting yours with a rare vulnerability. "For everything."

You nodded, your thumb tracing the line of his jaw. "Always," you said softly. “I’d do anything just to see you at peace. You know that."

Joe's arms tightened around you, his eyes searching yours. "I know," he murmured. "You’ve stuck by me through everything, even when I didn’t deserve it." He leaned in to kiss you again, his hand sliding down to cup your waist, pulling you closer against him.

“From the minute I touched down at LSU, you were there, pushing me to be better, supporting me when I doubted myself,” Joe said, his eyes filled with gratitude. “You’ve been my rock through all the shit, babe.”

Her own eyes misted over, you leaned into him. “And you were there for me when I needed it most,” you whispered. “When my whole world was falling apart.”

Joe nodded, remembering your darkest days, post-surgery. The pain, the doubt, the fear that you’d never play your sport again. He’d held your hand through it all, encouraging you to keep pushing, to find a new passion. And you had, in him and in the success of his football career.

You stood there, bodies entwined, the water beating down on your skin, sharing a moment of quiet understanding. It was in these moments that you felt closest, stripped of your public personas and your individual ambitions, just two people in love.

"You know," you began, your voice still soft, "You could always talk to someone about it. Maybe it's time to have a sit-down with the coaches?"

Joe sighed, his eyes closing briefly. "It's complicated," he said. "I don't want to be the guy who throws the team under the bus."

You nodded, understanding his dilemma. "But Joe, you're not throwing anyone under the bus," you said, your voice firm. "You're expressing your frustration, and that's okay. It's not about blame, it's about finding a solution."

Joe looked at you, his gaze intense. "I just want to win," he admitted. "For the team, for the city, for us."

"I know," you said, your voice soothing. "But you can't carry the weight of everyone's expectations on your shoulders. It's not fair to you when you’re playing your ass off and they can’t give you some help."

Joe nodded, his grip on you tightening slightly. He knew you were right, but it was hard to let go of the pressure he felt. "I'll talk to them," he said, his voice a little defeated. "But I can't promise anything."

You leaned up to kiss his neck, your teeth grazing his skin. "That's all I'm asking, baby," you murmured. "Just talk to them. Maybe it'll help."

Joe nodded, his resolve strengthening as your lips moved down his body. He knew you were right. He couldn't keep carrying the weight of the team's failures on his own. He had to trust that his voice would be heard and that changes could be made.

You stepped out of the shower, the cool air a stark contrast to the steamy warmth you'd just shared. You reached for a towel, wrapping it around your body and releasing your hair from its confines underneath your shower cap. As Joe toweled off, he couldn't help but appreciate the artistry of your singular tattoo, the way it danced over your muscles as you moved. It was a constant reminder of the fierce strength that lay beneath your softness.

"Come on," he said, taking your hand. "Let's get dressed and order some breakfast. I'm starving."

You couldn't help but laugh. "Fine, but no more distractions," you warned, swatting him playfully on the ass.

"Scout's honor," Joe said with a grin, his eyes lighting up mischievously.

In the bedroom, you quickly dried off and threw on your clothes, your bodies still humming with energy from your workout and the passionate kiss you'd shared in the shower. Your mind wandered to the kitchen, picturing the ingredients you had in mind for a hearty breakfast to fuel Joe for the day ahead. Heading downstairs, you felt a thrill of excitement at the prospect of cooking for him. It was a small gesture, but one that you knew meant a lot to Joe, especially when his days were packed with practice and meetings.

Joe followed you, his eyes tracing the way your hips swayed in the oversized LSU Football shirt. Despite his earlier promise to behave, he couldn't resist slipping his hand under the fabric to squeeze your ass as you walked in front of him. You shot him a glare over your shoulder, but your smile gave away your amusement. You knew he was just teasing you, trying to get a rise out of you. It was a dance you'd been doing for years, and you found it both infuriating and endearing.

“Instead of ordering, let me cook for you today," you offered as you descended the stairs, the plush carpet cushioning your bare feet. "It's been too long since I've had the chance to take care of you."

Joe's eyes lit up. "You don't have to, babe," he protested weakly, knowing full well that he'd lost that battle the moment you'd suggested it.

"I know," you said with a smirk. "But I want to make sure my man eats good. You give it to me so good, I wanna reward you. Now sit down, I'll handle it," you instructed as you pushed him onto one of the high-backed chairs at the kitchen island.

Joe obeyed, watching as you tied your hair back in a messy bun, revealing the nape of your neck. He found himself craving another taste of you, but he knew he had to be good for now. He leaned back, his eyes tracing the curves of your body as you moved around the kitchen, pulling out pans and ingredients with the ease of a seasoned chef. The sound of sizzling bacon filled the air, and his stomach growled in anticipation.

You began to prep a feast fit for a king. You whipped up eggs, topped with cheese and chives, crispy bacon, and a side of avocado toast. You knew Joe's diet was strict, but today was a day for indulgence. Plus, you knew he had earned it.

“Ja’Marr’s been complaining about that dinner we had to reschedule last week, says you owe him a home-cooked meal next home game,” Joe said, scrolling through his phone. He watched your expression as you cracked eggs into the sizzling pan, your brows furrowing slightly in concentration.

You chuckled. “Tell him to wait his turn. I’ve got my hands full cooking for one hornball Bengal today. I don’t need another one begging me for food,” you teased, flipping the eggs with a practiced flick of your wrist. “Matter of fact, tell him to bring his child next time he wants to eat my food. Maybe he’ll learn some manners from his son.”

Joe’s laugh echoed through the kitchen, his eyes never leaving his wife as you worked your magic. You had always been so fiery, so full of passion and sass. It was one of the things he loved most about you. “You’re gonna have to text him that yourself, babe,” Joe said, holding up his phone. “But maybe save the hornball comment for when we’re alone. I don’t need to hear it from him all week at practice.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the smile that played on your lips. You grabbed your phone from the counter and shot a quick text to your friend. “Consider it done,” you said, setting the phone aside to focus on the meal. The kitchen was alive with the sounds of sizzling bacon and the occasional clang of a pan. The smell of breakfast filled the room, a comforting aroma that seemed to melt away the last of Joe’s tension.

As you moved around the kitchen, Joe’s eyes followed you, taking in every movement, every curve. Her body was a testament to your dedication to maintaining your health, your strength and grace evident even in the simple act of cooking. He felt himself growing hard again, his body eager to claim you once more.

"I swear, if you don't stop looking at me like that, this breakfast is going to be ruined," you warned, tossing a piece of bacon at him. He caught it with a grin, popping it into his mouth and chewing slowly, his eyes still glued to you.

Joe couldn’t resist. He slid off the chair and approached you, his bare feet silent on the cool kitchen tiles. His hands slid around your waist, pulling you back against him. You giggled, trying to shoo him away with the spatula, but your protests were weak.

"Joseph," you scolded, but your voice was playful, not stern. You could feel his arousal pressing into your backside, and you had to admit, it was tempting.

"Come on, honey," Joe murmured, his breath hot against your neck. "Just a little taste," he begged, nibbling at your ear.

Your resolve wavered. You could feel his hands roaming over your hips, his fingers inching closer to the apex of your thighs. "Joe," you warned, your voice laced with amusement. "I'm trying to do something for you."

"And I'm trying to do something for you," he murmured, his voice dropping an octave. He pressed closer, his erection nudging against your backside. "Let me just return the favor."

You felt the heat pool in your belly, the flames of desire flickering back to life. "Baby," you warned again, this time with a hint of a whine.

Joe chuckled, his grip tightening as he kissed your neck. "Please," he whispered, his breath tickling your skin.

You tried to resist, but Joe's hands were already working your magic. He reached around and cupped your breasts, his thumbs circling your hardened nipples. You gasped, dropping the spatula as you leaned back into him. He took that as the invitation it was meant to be and ground his hips against yours, his length pressing into you. "See?" he murmured, his teeth grazing your ear. "I know exactly what you need."

Your body betrayed you, arching into his touch. "You're so annoying," you managed to say, but your voice was thick with need.

Joe chuckled, his hands sliding down your body until they found the hem of your, or rather his, t-shirt. He began to lift it, his knuckles brushing against your bare skin as he revealed your stomach. You squirmed, trying to focus on cooking, but it was a futile effort. His touch was intoxicating, his presence overwhelming.

"Joe," you said, your voice a breathy whisper. "The food."

"Fuck the food," he growled, his hands continuing to lift the shirt from your body. He tossed it aside, revealing your bare breasts and a black g-string he didn’t recognize. His cock twitched with approval. "What’s this? New lingerie for me?"

You turned in his arms, your own desire flaring up at his words. You pushed him back playfully, your eyes dark with passion. "If you want to eat, you'll let me cook," you said, your voice a seductive purr.

Joe's smile didn’t reach his full expression. His blue eyes darkened as he took in the sight of his darling wife, half-dressed and flushed with arousal. He stepped back into his position behind you, giving your ass a firm spank before squeezing a toned cheek in his large hand. Your head fell forward with a gasp as you tried to compose yourself, a moan slipping past your lips involuntarily at the sudden roughness.

If he heard your challenge, he paid it no mind. Hand coming up once more to deliver another smack to your ass, he watched the flesh jiggle before bending down to kiss the tender spot he’d just abused. His tongue darted out to taste your skin, sending shivers down your spine. Your breath hitched, the heat between you palpable as Joe’s hands wandered further down, his fingertips tracing the damp fabric that barely covered your sex.

“We can multitask,” Joe murmured against your skin, his teeth grazing the sensitive spot where his hand last made contact with your ass. His fingertips danced over the fabric of your underwear, teasing the entrance to your warmth.

Your hands tightened around the handle of the spatula as you bit back a moan. "Joe," you protested again, though your voice was less steady this time. You knew he could feel you tremble against him, could see the way your pussy was already growing wet. You tried to push him away, but your legs felt like jelly, your resolve dissolving with every touch.

"Cut the stove off," Joe said, his voice a low growl. "I'm gonna have to eat something else." His hand slipped the g-string to the side, his fingers finding your slick folds. Your knees nearly buckled as he began to circle your entrance, your eyes fluttering shut. You knew you had lost.

Your hands scrambled to turn the stove off, the sizzle of the bacon fading into the background as Joe’s touch grew more insistent. He didn’t wait for permission, sliding the panties down with a groan of appreciation that echoed through the kitchen. Your slick heat was all he could think about, all he wanted to taste. He dropped to his knees behind you, his eyes feasting on your bare ass and the smell of the glistening pussy he could already see fluttering with desire.

“Put your knee on the counter,” Joe whispered, his breath hot against your skin. You looked over your shoulder, your eyes meeting his intense gaze before you complied, your heart racing. You knew where this was heading and you couldn’t wait.

Joe swore to himself as he watched your pussy spread for him. Your hands grasped at the counter for balance as your pussy continued to flutter with anticipation. He hummed in appreciation as his strong hands gripped your ass, pulling you even further apart. His tongue flicked out, tasting the sweetness of your arousal as you gasped, your body taut with need. He took his time, savoring the moment, exploring every inch of you with his mouth.

You couldn’t help but lean further over the counter. Her pretty little pussy was on full display to him, almost begging for his mouth. Joe took full advantage, burying his face in your wetness. He sucked eagerly at your clit while one of his thumbs circled your entrance, sending waves of pleasure through your body. Your moans grew louder, echoing through the kitchen as you lost yourself in the sensation. Her hand reached back to grip his hair, pulling him closer, silently demanding more.

Joe was more than happy to oblige. His tongue delved into you, tasting you deep, feeling your muscles tighten around his thumb. Your hips began to rock back into him, your moans turning into cries of pleasure. You were so close, so beautifully close to the edge, and Joe could feel his dick throb with the anticipation of watching you fall over the edge. He picked up the pace, his tongue flicking faster against your clit, his thumb pressing deeper into you.

Your legs began to wobble as the intensity grew, your knuckles turning white as you clutched the counter. "Baby," you gasped, your voice strained. "You’re so good."

Joe groaned in response, his mouth never leaving you as he felt your orgasm building. He knew your body like the back of his hand, knew exactly how to push your buttons, how to make you scream his name. And scream you did, your body convulsing as you came, your juices flooding his mouth. He drank you in, loving the taste of you, loving the way you felt as you lost control.

When you finally went still, panting and trembling, Joe stood, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Fuck, you taste good," he murmured, his voice gruff with desire.

You turned to face him, your eyes glazed over with satisfaction. "Are you going to let me cook now?" you asked, though the playfulness in your tone suggested you didn't really mind the interruption.

“Nope. I need you to squirt that goodness all over me again, baby,” Joe said, his eyes glinting with mischief as he stepped closer to you, his own length straining against his sweatpants.

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head at his audacity. But as he stepped closer, you felt your resolve melt away like butter in the pan. You leaned back against the counter, your body still humming from your orgasm. Joe stepped between your legs, his erection pressing against your stomach as he kissed you deeply. He gently lifted you up onto the counter, laying you back as his hands drew your long legs to rest on his broad shoulders.

He slid your thighs apart, revealing your glistening pussy to his hungry gaze. His cock throbbed in anticipation as he leaned in to kiss you again, his tongue delving into your mouth. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, your hips raising to meet his as he rubbed his clothes cock against your wet folds.

With a groan, Joe reached into his sweatpants and freed his erection, the tip already slick with pre-cum. He positioned himself at your entrance, his eyes glued to your pussy. You nodded, your breath coming in ragged pants as you gave him the unspoken permission he needed. With one swift movement, he slid into you, filling you completely. You both gasped as your bodies connected, the heat and friction setting off sparks that seemed to light up the kitchen.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so wet for me,” Joe growled, his voice thick with need as he began to move, his cock sliding in and out of you with ease. Your eyes rolled back in your head, your hands reaching for your breasts to pinch and squeeze your nipples as Joe’s rhythm grew more intense. You could feel your orgasm building again, the sensation coiling in your belly like a tight spring.

Joe’s grip on your thighs tightened, his hips moving faster, the slap of your bodies filling the kitchen. He leaned down to whisper dirty words in your ear, his breath hot and ragged, his eyes never leaving yours. "You like that, don’t you? Being fucked like this?"

“Yes, baby, yes,” you moaned, your eyes fluttering closed as Joe’s cock filled you completely, his strokes hitting all the right spots. You felt your climax approaching, your body tightening around him like a vice. “Fuck me.”

Joe’s eyes darkened at your words, his pace quickening as he pounded into you. He could feel your pussy grip him, your walls pulsing with each thrust. The sight of you spread out before him, your legs trembling with pleasure, was almost too much to handle. He leaned in to kiss your neck, his teeth grazing your sensitive skin as he whispered more dirty words into your ear.

“Come for me, baby,” Joe urged, his voice strained with his own need. His strokes grew faster, more erratic, as he felt himself approaching the brink. “I wanna feel you come around me again."

Your eyes snapped open, your gaze locking onto Joe’s. You could feel the tension in his arms, the way his muscles flexed with each thrust. You knew he was close, and that knowledge only served to push you closer to the edge. With a cry, you shattered, your pussy clamping down on Joe’s cock as waves of pleasure crashed through you.

Joe groaned, his eyes squeezed shut as he felt your orgasm wash over him. He didn’t hold back, giving in to his own need as he thrust into you one final time, his cock pulsing with his release. You held onto each other for a moment, your breathing ragged, your bodies slick with sweat and desire.

Finally, Joe pulled out, his cock glistening with your combined juices. He stepped back, his eyes raking over your flushed body, still sprawled out on the kitchen counter. He couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride at the sight of you, so beautifully wrecked by his touch. "Fuck," he murmured, his voice filled with awe. “You’re so sexy when you come like that, babe."

You couldn’t help the smug smile that curved your lips as you watched Joe try to compose himself. You knew you looked a mess, your hair sticking to your face, your body flushed and trembling, but you felt alive, more alive than you had in a long time.

"You think so?" you asked, your voice teasing. "Maybe I should just stay like this all day."

Joe chuckled, shaking his head as he stepped closer to you. "As tempting as that is, we both know we’d never get anything done if you stayed naked all day," he said, his eyes traveling over your body with a mix of admiration and desire. He reached for your hand, helping you hop off the counter. "But I'm not saying we can't revisit the idea another day.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, your body still humming with the aftershocks of your orgasm. "Maybe next time, you can actually let me cook breakfast," you said, though the smile on your face suggested you didn’t mind the detour.

Joe leaned in for a kiss, his lips capturing yours in a passionate embrace. "Deal," he murmured against your mouth. "But only if you promise to let me eat you out again."

Your cheeks flushed, a giggle escaping you as you swatted his shoulder. "You're so horny all the time," you accused, though the spark in your eyes suggested you liked it.

"Can you blame me?" Joe retorted, his gaze roving over your naked body with a hunger that hadn’t been sated. "Look at you”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t keep the smile from your lips as you bent down to pick up your discarded underwear. "You're so annoying," you teased, tossing the garment at him.

Joe caught it in midair, holding it up with a grin. "But you love it," he said, stepping closer to you. He stepped into your space, his own body still flushed from your recent activity. "And I'll never get enough of you."

You couldn't argue with that. You stepped into him, your body fitting against his perfectly as your mouths met in a kiss that was as sweet as it was passionate. You felt the heat of his body, the steady thump of his heart beneath your palm as you wrapped your arms around his neck. For a moment, the kitchen and the world outside it faded away, and all that mattered was the two of you, your love and your desire.

When you broke apart, your smile was soft, your eyes warm with affection. "Let's get cleaned up and then eat," you said, your voice still breathless. "I didn’t make this food for nothing."

Joe nodded, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer before he turned to help you plate the food. He placed a delicate kiss on your shoulder, the warmth of his breath making you shiver. You ate at the island, leaning into Joe’s muscular body as you stood naked together.

The scent of the crispy bacon and the eggs filled the kitchen, making your stomachs growl. You took your first bites, savoring the flavors that melded together perfectly. Despite your earlier distraction, the breakfast was heavenly, a testament to your culinary skills.

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burrowlvrr · 3 months ago

Text

— MORTGAGE MISCHIEF, joe burrow.

PAIRING: Joe Burrow 𝔁 Black!Wife!Reader

GENRE: Husband & Dad Joe

SUMMARY: In which — Y/N caves in and makes a TikTok account, and it doesn't take long for her to try to prank her unserious husband.

NOTE: I love this trend on TikTok so freaking much, bro, I just couldn't help myself. I wish there was more pranks going around TikTok so I could write another one lol! Feel free to send me more ideas and suggestions, enjoy!

UNIVERSE: Tenderhearts & Touchdowns!

Y/N had never been the kind of person to keep up with social media trends. Her Instagram was mostly filled with family snapshots, vacation photos, and the occasional throwback post from her college days. TikTok, though? That was a whole different ballgame.

She’d heard the buzz about it, of course—the dances, the memes, the endless rabbit hole of videos that could steal hours of your day—but it wasn’t really her thing.

That is, until some of Joe’s fans started flooding her DMs.

It wasn’t unusual for her to get messages from fans, most of them kind and supportive, occasionally sprinkled with the usual social media chaos. But after a family photo Joe posted went viral—a candid shot of the two of them laughing while their kids played in the background—her inbox blew up.

Several people had suggested she start a TikTok account, saying things like, “Your family is so cute, we’d love to see more of you guys!” and “Please post more videos of Joe being a dad; it’s the content we all need!”

At first, she brushed it off. The idea of putting her family out there in such a public way made her hesitant. Their life was private, cozy, and real—did she really want to open that up to the internet? But the messages kept coming, and her curiosity eventually got the better of her. One evening, after the kids were asleep and Joe was watching game highlights, she downloaded the app.

It didn’t take long for TikTok to reel her in. The first few days, she lurked quietly, scrolling through endless videos of clever pranks, hilarious parenting fails, and, of course, a whole section of TikToks dedicated to football wives and girlfriends. It was the pranks that hooked her.

Women were pulling the funniest, most creative stunts on their unsuspecting husbands—pretending to be mad over made-up arguments, mispronouncing their favorite athletes’ names, and her personal favorite, casually dropping bombshell “confessions” to see how their partners would react.

She couldn’t resist.

“This would be perfect for Joe,” she’d said to herself one night, already grinning at the thought. He was so even-keeled most of the time, but his sass came out when he was caught off guard, and she couldn’t wait to see what he’d say.

So, Y/N started posting. At first, it was just lighthearted videos of their kids, like Hudson and Elijah racing each other in the backyard or Sawyer trying to crawl after their dog, who always managed to stay just out of reach. The comments poured in, full of love and laughter, and she started to feel less nervous about sharing these little moments. And then came the pranks.

She eased into them, starting small—things like pretending to forget what day of the week it was or asking Joe if she could switch his game-day hoodie with one of hers. His reactions were gold, and her videos started gaining traction. She didn’t know how many people would find it so funny, but apparently, the internet loved Joe Burrow getting pranked as much as she did.

Which is how she found herself, phone in hand, ready to execute her latest and possibly best trend yet: the “I can’t pay the mortgage this month” prank.

The living room buzzed with the quiet hum of family life. Hudson and Elijah were seated cross-legged on the rug, their faces scrunched in concentration as they connected Lego pieces, the colorful blocks scattered across the coffee table like a mini construction zone. Sawyer, their youngest, was on the floor nearby, rolling lazily on her playmat while holding her bottle with both hands, occasionally babbling nonsense to herself.

Joe was stretched out on the couch, the epitome of relaxation in his gray hoodie and sweatpants, his wife’s legs comfortably draped over his thighs. His focus was glued to the MMA fight playing on the TV, and he absently stirred his spoon around a bowl of cereal balanced in his hand.

Every so often, he’d let out a low, “Oof,” reacting to a particularly hard punch or takedown, his body slightly tensing with the action on screen.

Y/N sat beside him, phone in hand, scrolling through TikTok. She stumbled across the trend a few hours ago, and decided that now was too good an opportunity to pass up.

Glancing sideways at Joe, she smirked to herself. This will be fun.

She adjusted her phone subtly, angling it to record, and cleared her throat dramatically. “Joe?”

“Hmm?” he murmured, not taking his eyes off the screen as he scooped another bite of cereal.

“I need to tell you something,” she said softly, injecting a hint of nervousness into her tone.

Joe didn’t look up. “What’s up, baby?”

“Don’t get mad at me, okay?” she added, biting her bottom lip to suppress a grin.

That got his attention. Joe’s hand froze midair, his spoon hovering over the bowl, and he turned his head toward her, squinting slightly.

“What? Why would I get mad?” His sharp gaze shifted to the phone in her lap. “Wait… why’re you recording? You pregnant again?”

Y/N burst out laughing at his assumption, unable to keep up her serious facade. “What? No!”

“Are you sure? ‘Cause that’s how you told me about Sawyer,” he replied with a smirk, leaning back on the couch and rubbing his free hand over his face.

“You just pulled out your phone, started recording, and bam—‘Congratulations, you’re gonna be a dad again!’” Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t help giggling. “I’m serious, Joe. This is important.”

“Alright, alright,” he said, setting his cereal down on the side table and shifting so he was facing her fully. “What’s going on? And why are you being all dramatic about it?”

Y/N took a deep breath, steadying herself before delivering her line. “I, uh… I won’t be able to pay the mortgage this month.”

Joe blinked at her, his brows knitting together in confusion. “Girl, what are you talking about?” His tone was casual but tinged with disbelief.

She tried to keep her composure, clasping her hands together as if pleading. “The school’s on winter break, so my paycheck isn’t going to be enough. I just—ugh, I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

Joe stared at her for a moment, his expression unreadable. “Okay, wait. How much is the mortgage?”

Y/N’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. “Uh… like… $2,000?” she guessed, feigning confidence.

Joe’s mouth twitched, and he let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Babe. You don’t even know how much it is, do you?”

“Well…” she stalled, trying to recover.

“That’s what I thought,” he said, leaning back against the couch and crossing his arms. “You’ve never paid the mortgage.”

“I know!” Y/N blurted, throwing her hands up dramatically. “I was going to as your Christmas present, but my paycheck won’t be enough now!”

Joe’s brow furrowed again, but this time his lips quirked upward, unable to hide his amusement. “So let me get this straight. You don’t know how much the mortgage is. You’ve never paid it before. And now you’re stressed because your Christmas present was gonna be paying it, but you can’t?”

“Exactly!” she said, doubling down.

For a moment, Joe just stared at her, then he broke into a deep laugh, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “You’re crazy,” he muttered, shaking his head. Grabbing his cereal bowl, he leaned back against the couch.

“Don’t worry about it, babe. I got it.” He scooped another spoonful and took a bite like it was the most casual thing in the world.

Y/N couldn’t hold it in any longer. She burst into laughter, clutching her stomach as she nearly dropped her phone.

Joe raised an eyebrow at her, still chewing. “What’s so funny now?”

“It was a TikTok prank!” she wheezed, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes.

Joe’s smirk deepened as he shook his head. “Yeah, I figured. There’s no way you were being serious.”

“You were so calm about it, though!” she said, still laughing. “I really thought I’d get a bigger reaction out of you!”

“Nah,” Joe replied, reaching over to pinch her ankle playfully. “You’re too bad at lying, babe. Next time, at least Google how much the mortgage is first.”

From the floor, Hudson looked up from the Lego set with a curious expression. “What’s a mortgage?”

Joe snorted, pointing his spoon at his son. “Something you don’t gotta worry about, buddy.”

Elijah chimed in without looking up from his Legos. “Mommy’s bad at pranks.”

Sawyer let out a happy babble from her playmat, almost as if she agreed.

Joe laughed, pulling Y/N closer with one arm. “Looks like the jury’s unanimous, babe. Better luck next time.”

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heavyhitterheaux · 15 days ago

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Girl Errands

See Me Through You Blurb

Synopsis: You try to distract your husband from the multiple bags piled up in the back of your car, which was the result of you running "errands"

Pairing: Husband!Joe Burrow x Wife!Reader

Series Masterlist

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

Glancing down at your dashboard in your car, you saw that it was now around two in the afternoon and figured that Joe would probably be making his way home soon.

So, that left you with one task.

Beat him home so that he doesn't see the multiple bags that are a result of you telling him that you were going to run “errands”.

You in fact did not run one errand according to Joe if you were to ask him since they consisted of Target, TJ Maxx, Starbucks, JoAnn Fabrics for more things to crochet, and last but certainly not least browsing the Savage Fenty website for new lingerie which you knew would end up getting torn and would make Joe buy you more.

As you pulled out of the Target parking lot, you were met with a stop sign before turning on the main street and coming to a red stop light. You just so happened to glance to your right to see no one other than your husband drumming his fingers on the steering wheel and waiting for the light to change.

“Shit!” You muttered as you glanced behind you to look at the multiple bags in the backseat.

When you turned back around, Joe just so happened to catch your eye and you smirked before you gestured for him to roll down his window.

You might as well distract him.

“Hey handsome! You got a girl? I'm trying to go on a date with you tonight.” You said as you winked at him while he couldn't help but to laugh at your horrible attempt at a pick up line.

“I have a wife actually and I highly doubt she would like that very much.”

“Well, I won't tell if you won't.”

“I'm trying to save us both from ending up being six feet under. She's short, but don't let that fool you.” He replied as you turned up your nose and glared at him.

“I'm sure I can take it. So what do you say?”

Before Joe could respond, he glanced in the backseat of your car and made a face before turning his attention back towards you.

“Uh oh.” You said quietly before you heard your husband's voice.

“Baby! What do you have in the backseat!?”

“Nothing! Bye!” You told him as the light turned green and you pulled off without another word.

But your luck ran out when you were once again caught at a stop light literally less than a mile from your house right next to Joe as he gestured for you to roll your window down and you shook your head no.

So as soon as you told him no, your ringtone for him started blasting throughout the car and you hesitantly hit accept.

“Princess….”

“Oh thank goodness. There's this weird dude who keeps following me in his car and pulling up next to me every time I'm at a stop light.”

“I am not doing this with you today. I refuse.” Joe said as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Refuse what, babe?”

“Don't act dumb. Now what is in the backseat?”

“Stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?”

“For me to know and for you not to find out because I was supposed to beat you home and hide everything.” You honestly told him.

“Hmm, and how's that working out for you?”

“It'll be fine once I get home before you do.” You replied as you hit the gas once more and sped away from him.

“I am literally right behind you and you better slow down before you get a ticket.”

“I'm pretty and I'll be let off with a warning. Works every time.”

“Why do you love to stress me out on a daily basis?”

“You're the one who asked me to marry you so you did this to yourself.” You replied as you pulled into the garage with Joe right behind you.

Joe got out of his Porsche before coming over to the driver's side door of your car and opening it, seeing you smiling at him, but he did not look amused.

“Hi baby!” You greeted him as you wrapped your arms around his neck and your legs wrapped around his waist.

Placing a kiss on his lips, he didn’t return it which made you frown.

“Give me a kiss and fix your face.”

Joe rolled his eyes before kissing you and continued to make a face at you as he pulled away.

“Is this supposed to be serving as a distraction?”

“A little bit, but I can take my clothes off if it isn't working. Now how about that date you promised me?”

“I never even gave you an answer.”

“You're undressing me with your eyes so that's a good enough answer which obviously translates to yes.”

“We can go on a date... right after you show me what's in the backseat.”

“No.”

“Fine. I'll just get my hair cut and run errands in my gray sweatpants.” Joe told you as your eyes then went wide.

“I… Just get the bags please and I'll tell you.”

“That’s exactly what I thought.”

#joe burrow #joe burrow blurb #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x black reader #joe shiesty #joey burrow #joe burrow fanfiction #nfl imagine #joe burrow fluff

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starsinthesky5 · 1 month ago

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breathe || joe burrow x reader

description: when the weight of everything around him comes crashing down, joe only needs one person. the one person who could help him breathe

a/n: requested by my love @yelenasbraid!! this is so rushed and not my best writing at all but here we are :)

warnings: angst, fluff, mentions and descriptions of anxiety

word count: 4.4k

taglist (ask to be added): @joeyfranchise @joeyb1989 @joeyburrrow @softburrow @burrowbarbie @yelenasbraid @lovelyburrow @majestic87 @grittysbiggestfan @definitelynotdomanique @starkeyswomen @lilfreakjez @fourburrow

───────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───────

The locker room was suffocating after the loss against the Chargers. The air was heavy with the scent of sweat, bitter frustration, and dissatisfaction. Reporters circled like preying vultures, their questions sharp and relentless, making the voices inside his head even louder. Cameras flashed without any hesitation, the artificial light burning into his already pounding head. His ears rang, his pulse thundered against the walls of his arteries, and the words coming at him blurred together into one indistinct buzz.

Joe could barely hear himself think.

This game had been as brutal as they come. Physically, emotionally, mentally--everything about it had left him battered and bruised. From the slow start before the half--24-6--to not one, but two missed field goals, countless defensive struggles, time mismanagement, and playcalling being a nagging issue. Everything that could have gone wrong, went wrong. Every mistake replayed in his head like a cruel highlight reel, the weight of it pressing down on his chest, making it harder to breathe.

The incessant voices, the buzzing overhead lights, the grating questions--What went wrong? What happened? Why didn’t you do more? It was all layering over him, crushing him from every direction.

It was too much. It was drowning him.

This put them in a tough spot, and Joe knew that. He knew it better than anyone. He didn't need to be reminded by anyone and everyone with a mouth and a microphone. If he had to hear the words, 4-7, one more time, he might just fall to his knees at the mention of their standing.

He was giving it his all each and every week, yet somehow, it was never enough. It was never enough for them to win, it was never enough for the league to acknowledge his hard work, it was never enough for himself.

Right now, he was sitting on the chair in front of his locker while Ja'marr and Tee rattled on about how they need to do better at closing games, better at managing the clock, how they need to keep the Bengals in that conversation as it was getting increasingly hard to since they had nothing but one SuperBowl appearance and two AFC championship appearances to back it up.

They were telling Joe everything he already knew.

Tee yanked off his cleats with a frustrated grunt, the sound echoing in the otherwise eerily quiet locker room. "We can’t lose after the bye. At all. Or we’re totally fucked," his words were blunt, his discontent practically radiating off of him, a heavy cloud that lingered not just over his head but throughout the locker room.

Ja'marr rolled his eyes, not even trying to hide his irritation. "I don't know 'bout y'all, but I'm getting real tired of these reporters running their fucking mouths. We know we suck, no need to rephrase it every way humanly possible,".

Joe didn’t answer to any of their complaints and venting, despite knowing that as the leader of this team and as their friend, he should be doing something to ease their worries. His eyes stared blankly ahead, his mind running a thousand miles per minute as he tried to breathe through the frustration tightening in his chest. Every word, every criticism, felt like it was clawing at him, making it harder to focus on what really mattered--keeping his cool while he kept his team together. He could feel the pressure creeping up his neck, settling into his bones, reminding him of everything he hadn’t been able to fix, everything he hadn’t done well enough. He could feel the expectations, the endless hunger for more from himself and from the team, threatening to overcome him.

"You can't keep someone else together if you can't keep yourself together,".

That voice. Sweet as sugar, smooth as honey, soft as a cloud.

Your voice.

The only one that he could hear through the buzz in his head.

But you weren’t here.

And without you, the weight of it all was suffocating. The importance of the loss, the looming consequences, the endless chatter about the playoffs--it bore down on him, stubborn, inescapable. If he spoke now, even he didn’t know what would come out. Frustration? Defeat?

Something he couldn’t take back?

So he just sat there, silent. Letting them talk. Letting their words blend into the static already buzzing in his head.

His fingers curled into fists, nails biting into his palms, grounding himself in the sting. He needed to get out. The walls of the locker room felt too close, the air too thick, the rock on his chest too heavy to bear for another second. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could sit there, pretending it was all fine, pretending he wasn’t fraying in the eyes of his teammates.

And that noise. That god awful noise.

It wouldn't shut up.

And all he wanted was to disappear.

To escape, to breathe, to find something--someone--to hold onto before he drowned in it all.

He needed you.

The only person who could quiet the storm raging in his head. The only person who never demanded answers, never pushed him to speak when the words felt too heavy to say. You just knew--you always knew. You saw past the clenched jaw, the stiff shoulders, the foggy eyes, and you never asked for anything in return. You just gave. Your presence, your touch, your understanding.

He needed the steady rhythm of your heartbeat against his ear, the warmth of your fingers threading through his hair, the quiet reassurance in your eyes that told him he wasn’t alone. That he didn’t have to be Joe Burrow, the quarterback, or Joe Burrow, the leader.

With you, he was just Joe.

And right now, that was all he wanted to be.

He couldn’t sit here any longer, couldn’t force himself to listen, to nod, to act like he wasn’t barely holding it together.

So he moved.

Without a word, he pushed himself up from the chair, his movements stiff, almost mechanical. He grabbed his bags, slinging them over his shoulder with a quiet urgency, his pulse throbbing in his ears. And then, without looking back, he started walking toward the exit.

Behind him, his teammates noticed his sudden shift in demeanor. Ja'marr raised an eyebrow, pausing mid-conversation, while Tee threw him a confused look.

"Yo, where you going?" Tee asked, but Joe didn’t stop.

He didn’t owe them an explanation. He didn’t owe anyone anything right now. The murmurs, the unspoken questions, the tension in the room; it all faded into the background. None of it mattered.

Not when he could already feel you--the only person who knew how to pull him out of the chaos.

With each step, the noise of the locker room faded, the pressure in his chest loosening just a little now that he was putting some much needed distance between himself and everything suffocating him. But the relief was brief. Every step felt like it was heavier than the last, the walk stretching endlessly before him as he passed players, staff members, people who were giving him that look.

The look of pity.

When he finally reached the stadium doors, he didn’t hesitate. He pushed them open, stepping into the cool night air like a man emerging for his first real breath in ages. The crispness stung his lungs, but it was better than the stifling heat of frustration and failure that clung to him inside.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his phone, checking the time--only to be met with a flood of texts.

Tee: yo man, where'd you go? the buses won't be here for another 30

Ja'marr: you good?

Sam: hey, saw you cleared out your stuff. where'd you go? we're not outta here for a little while

And then, another came in.

You: hey baby. i'm so sorry about tonight's game. please don’t beat yourself up over this. i’m always here if you need to talk :( i know you were really riding on this one to turn things around before the bye. just know i love you, and i'm so proud of you. i'm back at the hotel but i'll see you when we get back to cincy, okay?

You: but if you need to, call me.

Your words hit him like a wave--not the kind that dragged him under, not the kind that left him gasping for air. No, this was different.

It was a wave of fresh air, crisp and cool, filling his lungs where the pressure had been before. A wave that washed away the tension, rinsing off the exhaustion clinging to his skin.

A wave that felt like you.

Your words weren’t just comforting; they were exactly what he needed to hear, a glimpse of the steady presence he was craving. It was enough to make the tightness in his chest loosen, just a bit. She wasn’t asking him to be okay. She was just letting him know she was there. And that was all that mattered.

His fingers hovered over the keyboard for a moment, unsure if he should respond to his worried teammates before he sent you a text back. He didn’t want to snap or say something he’d regret to them, but the guilt of slipping away so abruptly gnawed at him. Even though he couldn’t be what they needed right now, he could at least let them know he hadn’t abandoned them completely.

So, he decided to send a brief text to all three.

Needed to get out. I'm going to her hotel. Don't wait up.

He knew he was breaking at least two different league codes by doing this--going to you when he was supposed to be boarding the plane home in an hour--but in that moment, he couldn't get himself to care. The locker room felt like it was closing in on him, choking him.

"Breathe, Joe," he mumbled to himself, but it did nothing to ease the returning pressure building in his chest. Even the mere thought of the night made him feel worse.

The only thing that felt real, the only thing that made any sense right now, was you.

So, without thinking twice, he clicked back on your contact and sent a text back to you.

I love you.

It was simple, but it was everything. It was the only thing that mattered.

—

The next thing Joe knew, he was in the backseat of an Uber, staring blankly outside the window. The city lights cast a harsh glow onto his exhausted, defeated face, amplifying the shadows beneath his eyes and highlighting how pale he’d become in the last few hours. His breath was shallow, a sharp contrast to the rhythm of his heartbeat, which thumped aimlessly in his chest. His hands were trembling, fingers clutching his thighs as if grounding himself would keep him from floating away.

But the pressure in his chest--heavy, crushing, like an unseen force--had only intensified. It felt as if the world itself going black around him, forcing him deeper into the confined space of the car. Each breath he pulled felt shallow, as if the air around him had thickened like molasses, it being replaced by a rigid force of the public's expectations, judgments, and self-doubt. The echoes of the voices in the stadium still haunted his mind, but being alone in the car, trapped with his spiraling thoughts, was even more unbearable than he realized.

And then it hit him. The radio.

The recap of the game blared through the speakers, repeating every mistake, every misstep, every lost opportunity. It was like someone had opened a door to a room full of harsh, biting voices, each one reminding him of everything that had gone wrong. The analysts hummed on, their voices cold and indifferent, dissecting the Bengals’ performance.

"Another missed chance for Joe Burrow, a disappointing loss for the team--,".

Great. Just great.

Joe could feel his stomach twist, his chest tightening even more as they tore apart the very thing he had fought for all night. He could hear their voices--"Same old Bengals. Same old Joe Burrow. Not enough."--repeating over and over in his mind, louder than the actual commentary. He could feel it in his veins, like an electric current of doubt, of failure, surging through him.

The worst part wasn’t even the game, though. It was the nagging feeling that no one saw him for what he was--more than just a player on a losing team. No matter how great he was on the field, no matter how hard he pushed through each and every game, the team’s performance overpowered his individual efforts. And that? That was the worst feeling of them all. The feeling of neglect. The feeling of being overlooked, unseen, despite doing everything he could.

It wasn’t enough. He wasn’t enough.

His hands gripped the edge of the seat, knuckles white with the effort of holding himself together. But with every word from the announcers, every criticism that hit him like a punch to the gut, his anxiety surged higher, chewing at him from the inside. His breath came faster, shorter, and the world around him began to blur, the lights from the city outside dancing in his vision.

He had to get out of there. He had to get somewhere quiet, somewhere safe where he didn’t have to listen to them anymore.

But the voices didn’t stop.

The analysts kept talking, their words cutting through the air like knives, each one sharper than the last. Every comment, every suspicion, every assumption about his performance lodged itself under his skin, burrowing deep into his mind like a splinter he couldn’t pull out.

"He’s not enough. He’ll never be enough,".

Those words were on loop in his brain.

The car turned a corner, the noise and the voices still spinning in his head, and Joe finally couldn’t take it anymore. His chest felt like it might cave in on itself, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could stay in this small, confining space, trapped between his thoughts and the echo of their words. His phone buzzed in his pocket, surely another text from his teammates, but he couldn’t bring himself to look at it--he was already gone.

Everything felt too much. Too loud. He needed space--he needed you.

His hands fumbled with the door handle once the car pulled up in front of your hotel. His legs were unsteady, like he couldn’t find his footing on the ground beneath him. His breath was coming too fast, short and jagged, like his lungs weren’t getting enough air no matter how hard he tried. His fingers tingled, and his vision blurred again as a fog crept over his mind.

By the time he reached the door of your room, his entire body was buzzing with anxiety, the skin on his arms and chest feeling too tight, like it couldn’t contain the frantic energy pulsing underneath. His mind raced faster than he could process, every thought crashing into the next. It felt like his brain was moving too fast for him to keep up, too fast for him to breathe.

His hand shook as he reached for the handle, but before he could touch it, the door swung open.

And then, there you were.

Soft, warm, steady--everything he wasn’t.

Your brows furrowed immediately, eyes scanning over him in an instant, picking up on every subtle sign: the tension in his shoulders, the way his chest was rising and falling too quickly, the distant, unfocused look in his eyes.

You saw it all. You always did.

You didn't need him to speak. You could feel it in the air, in the way he stood there, barely holding it together.

"Come here," you murmured, your voice calm, soothing.

Joe didn’t hesitate.

He stepped inside, the door clicking shut behind him. The second the space was closed off from the rest of the world, he dropped his bags and his hands found your waist, clutching at you like he might crumble if he let go. His forehead dropped to your shoulder, his breath shaky, uneven, because he couldn't get enough air.

"I can’t--," his voice broke, strained, each word like it was a struggle to push out. "I can’t breathe,".

Without thinking, your hands immediately went to him, one curling around the back of his neck, the other smoothing down his back. You could feel the frenzied pace of his pulse beneath your fingertips, the way he was shaking, not just with anxiety but with the overwhelming need for relief.

"Yes, you can," you whispered, voice filled with confidence. "You’re safe. Just breathe with me, baby,".

But it wasn’t that easy. Not for him. His chest was too compressed, his ribs constricting, refusing to expand the way they should. The panic was rising in him, clawing at his throat, sinking deeper into his chest with every breath he couldn’t take.

"He's slipping again," you frowned to yourself as a flashback of all of the times he'd come to you like this played in your head. You'd been through this too many times to count, so you knew what he needed.

You had to guide him.

You slipped your hand over his heart, pressing your palm flat against his chest. His breath hitched at the sudden touch, his heartbeat erratic beneath your hand, but you didn’t pull away. Instead, you held your palm there, anchoring him. "Feel me?" you nodded. "Right here. Just focus on that,".

Joe’s fingers dug into your hoodie, gripping at you like a lifeline, desperate not to let go. His breathing was still too fast, still uneven, but your touch--your calm presence--was helping, even if just a little. His head was still foggy, his thoughts tangled up in a mess of frustration and self-doubt, trying to crawl out from under the weight that had been holding him down all night. He wanted to focus, wanted to feel the calm that you brought him, but his mind kept drifting.

"I can’t…I don’t…agh," he mumbled, his breath catching on every word, a frown tugging at his features as he struggled to find the right thing to say, or even the right way to feel. His chest tightened again, and his hands quivered slightly, like he couldn’t quite catch his breath or his words. The panic threatened to creep back, the pressure of everything creeping up his body, trying to pull him down again.

You could feel him falling. Feel the tension returning, the struggle to stay present, and it broke your heart just a little bit. You knew he wasn’t just fighting the anxiety, he was fighting the feeling of being lost in everything around him. The feeling of it all had him spinning, unsure of how to breathe through it.

But you were here now. You were here to remind him that he didn’t need to deal with this alone. You knew just how much pressure he was under, how this season was more critical than years past. And you knew how much work he was putting in to make sure he was nothing but perfect every time he stepped onto that turf.

Which is why you knew all too well how much this hurt.

How much this was killing him, week after week.

"Joe," you whispered softly, gently cupping his face with your hands, your thumb tracing over the sharp lines of his jaw. "Look at me,".

He hesitated, his eyes unfocused, darting everywhere but at you. He tried to push through, but he couldn’t. The panic was still there, tugging at his chest, making it hard to hold on. "Joe," you said again, a little firmer this time, your voice soft but insistent. "Look at me, baby,".

He slowly turned his face back to yours, the fog in his eyes clearing just slightly as he tried to focus on you. Your gaze softened when you saw the struggle in him, the tears pooling, the need for reassurance, the vulnerability that he so rarely showed.

"I’m right here, Joey," you murmured, your hands resting gently on his cheeks now, your thumbs stroking across his skin as you held him in place. "Feel me. I’m here,".

Your words, your touch--it was the lifeline he needed. The grounding presence he could rely on. He let himself lean into you, closing his eyes just for a moment, letting the warmth of your hands on his face pull him back from the edge. He felt the steady pulse of your fingers, your warmth, and the way your breath met his. You were right here. It was going to be okay.

With a shaky exhale, Joe opened his eyes again, this time meeting yours. A soft breath left his lips as his body relaxed, just slightly, the overwhelming need to push everything away slowly fading into the background.

"I’ve got you, baby," you whispered, your voice steady and calm as you pressed your forehead gently to his. "Just breathe with me? I’m right here," you promised again, then placing the softest kiss to his temple. "You’re not alone. Just follow me, okay?".

He nodded weakly, his breath hitching again as he tried to focus.

"Good," you whispered, your voice stable. "Now, in for four. One, two, three, four…,".

You took a slow, measured breath, exaggerating it just enough so that he could follow. Joe’s breath was shaky as he tried to match you, but it was broken, stuttering, still too shallow. "That’s okay," you soothed, your thumb brushing against his cheek. "Try again. In for four,".

This time, he managed a deeper inhale, the air shaky in his lungs, but it was more than he had before. "There you go," you whispered, your voice a constant rock for him. "Now, hold it. One, two, three…,".

You watched his jaw tighten, his whole body bracing as he tried to hold it in, his chest rising and falling with the effort.

"Let it out. Four, three, two, one,".

His exhale was ragged, but the moment the breath left his lungs, a tiny fraction of the crushing weight on his chest lifted. It wasn’t much, but it was something. It was enough to make him realize that maybe--just maybe--it was possible to find some relief.

You repeated the cycle, guiding him through it, breathing with him, your voice the only thing keeping him tethered to the present, to this moment. Each time he wanted to slip under again, to let the anxiety drag him back into the storm, you pulled him back.

By the fifth breath, his grip on your waist had loosened just slightly, his fingers no longer clutching at you with desperation. By the seventh, his head wasn’t spinning quite as much. By the tenth, the racing pulse in his chest was slowing--still fast, still erratic, but now within his control.

His forehead dropped against yours, his breath warm against your lips, the tension in his body finally starting to ease as he sank into the comfort of your embrace. His chest rose and fell in a steadier rhythm now, the frantic pace of his breaths slowing just enough for him to feel the grounding presence of you. He could feel the soft pressure of your hands against him, the quiet love radiating from your touch, and it was everything he needed right now.

"Thank you," he murmured, his voice hoarse and broken, a sharp contrast to the softness of your touch. His eyes were closed, but you could see the weight lifting off his shoulders, little by little, as the steady beat of his heart slowed. It wasn’t just the physical pressure that was lifting--it was the mental burden, too. And all it took was you.

You smiled softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead, your fingertips lingering just a moment longer than necessary. You were his safe place, his anchor, and you reminded him of that every day without needing to say it. But tonight? Tonight, he needed to hear it. He needed to feel it.

Your hand slid over his chest, tracing soothing circles like a quiet promise, letting him know you were there, that he didn’t have to face any of this alone. You felt the rhythm of his heartbeat, the steadiness returning to it under your hand, and you couldn’t help but smile a little wider, the ache in your chest easing.

"Always," you whispered, leaning forward to press a silent kiss to his lips, almost as if you were trying to suck the pain out of him and bring it into yourself.

Joe exhaled a long, slow breath, feeling the last of the tension leave his body. The tightness in his chest was gone, replaced by the warmth of your arms, the steady sound of your heartbeat in his ear, and the certainty that no matter what the world threw at him, you would be there, holding him up.

You'd be there to give him the shelter from the storm raging in his mind.

You guided him to the edge of the bed, easing him down until his head found its place in your lap. Your fingers threaded through his hair, nails grazing his scalp in a way that sent the smallest shiver down his spine. With your other hand, you found his--calloused and tired--and brought it to your lips, pressing the softest kisses to each of his knuckles, as if you could kiss away the weight of the night.

"You're safe, baby," you murmured, your voice a gentle melody in the quiet room.

Joe exhaled, sinking further into you, letting your warmth surround him. The steady rhythm of your breathing, the way your fingers moved through his hair, the warmth of your skin against his--it was everything he needed. Everything he’d been searching for. And in that moment, wrapped up in you, he finally let himself believe that maybe, just maybe, things would be okay.

For the first time all night, he felt like he wasn’t drowning. It wasn’t just the air that was easier to breathe--it was everything. The thoughts stemming from the horrible loss, the pressure of his own expectations, the piercing noise in his head--it all faded into the background as he moved closer to you, stabilizing himself in the quiet comfort of your presence.

Because you were there, and that was enough. You were his calm, his home. You kept him afloat, and in your arms, he could finally let go of everything else.

He could finally breathe.

--The End--

#joe burrow #joe burrow blurb #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow bengals #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow fluff #joe burrow angst #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow fanfic #joe burrow fic #joe burrow x you #joe burrow x y/n #joey b #bengals #nfl imagine

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goldsainz · 3 months ago

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# JB9 — WATCHED IT BEGIN AGAIN !

MASTERLIST !

001. SUMMARY !

✯ after a bad relationship, a good man always comes around and restores your hopes in love.

002. NOTE !

✯ HAPPY NEW YEARRRR!!!! first fic of they year and first fic for joe burrow 🥳 i debated writing for him a lot cause i know little to nothing about the nfl (forgive me, i’m not for the usa) but i hope you still enjoy it 🙏 also no hate to constantin klein, i just know him as simone’s bf.

liked by ynfan1, ynfan2 and 107,924 others

ynupdates YN in Cincinnati, Ohio. 21/12/2024

view all 1,618 comments

ynupdates guys i wish i had answers as to what she is doing in OHIO… but i dont.

⤷ ynfan3 we’re all wondering the same dw

joefan1 now what is joe’s favourite actress doing in cincy a day before a game.

ynfan4 how does she always look good

ynfan5 SHE’S IN MY CITY???

joefan2 i know joe is giggling

⤷ ynfan6 he manifested it

joefan3 she has to go the game. has to.

joefan4 omg this is insane

ynfan7 who tf is joe and why are his fans all over this

⤷ joefan5 GIRL JOE BURROW???? FROM THE NFL????

⤷ ynfan7 i don’t watch the nfl lmaooo

yourusername and bengals updated their instagram stories!

liked by joeyb_9, avantika and 3,052,487 others others

yourusername first month of 2025, already amazing 🤍

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ynfan21 THIS IS TOO CUTE

ynfan22 okayyy soft-launch 🙌

joefan21 that is 100% joe’s arm

joefan22 WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ABOUT JOEY LIKING

⤷ ynfan23 there is too much to analyse tbh

ynfan24the cincy photo… oh she’s whipped

joefan23 i am soooo invested in this relationship

ynfan25 the way i had this in my 25’ bingo card😭

ynfan26 i need the joe fans to know this is OUR house

⤷ joefan24 stfu some of us are fans of both

ynfan27 cutest soft launch EVERRRR

#*ੈ✩༄ my works !#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #simone ashley #joe burrow x y/n #joe burrow x you #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow fluff #joe burrow fic #joe burrow fanfic #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow smau #joe burrow social media au #joe burrow blurb #nfl #nfl x reader #nfl fanfic #nfl social media au

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mamaestapa · 1 year ago

Text

Happy Turkey Day|| Joe Burrow x reader

•pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

•summary: You and Joe host the Burrow family Thanksgiving dinner

•warnings: mentions of secret weddings and fluff<3

“Joey, can you help me in here?” You called from the kitchen as you wiped your hands on a towel.

Joe got up from the couch and came into the kitchen to help you. He walked up behind you and put his hand on your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“What can I help you with baby?”

You pointed at the side dishes sitting on the counter, “Can you put those out on the table while I grab plates and silverware from the china hutch, please?”

“Of course,” he said with a smile. Joe removed his hand from your shoulder so he could grab the dish full of mashed potatoes in one hand, and the dish with green bean casserole in the other. You thanked your fiancé as you went into the other room to get the plates. With the plates in one hand and the silverware in the other, you walked into your dining room to set the table. Joe followed behind you with the last side dishes in his hands.

“These all look delicious, Y/n.” Joe said as he eyed the bowl full of mashed potatoes. You smiled and walked up to Joe after setting down the last silverware set wrapped in a red napkin. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into you.

“Thank you,” you hummed, “Your mom and dad are bringing the ham, your favorite.”

Joe’s stomach let out a growl from a mix of the smell of the delicious sides hitting his nostrils and the mention of the ham his parents were bringing. You chuckled at the sound and pulled away from him, patting his belly as you teased him.

“Someone’s excited for some ham,” you chuckled, “don’t worry, I think your parents will be here soon.”

Just as you said that, the sound of the door bell ringing filled the silent house. Joe looked down at you, a smirk on his face as he said, “Right on cue.” You smiled and pulled away from Joe’s embrace, grabbing his hand and leading the two of you to the front door to let his family in.

You opened the door with a wide grin as you saw Robin and Jim standing on your doorstep.

“Hi sweetie!” Robin beamed, pulling you into a tight hug. “Hi Robin.” you smiled, giggling softly as the two of you gently squeezed each other.

You always had a great relationship with Joe’s mom. Robin was always like another mother to you.

You pulled away from Robin, letting her greet her son while you said your hello’s to Joe’s father, Jim. After greeting his parents, the four of you went back inside and finished up some last minute dinner preparations. As Robin helped you get the ham plated on a dish, Joe’s brothers and their wives arrived. You all greeted each other and soon enough your previously quiet home was bustling with laughter and loud voices from the Burrow family.

Once all the guests were settled, everyone gathered at the dinner table and began eating the wonderful Thanksgiving meal that you and Joe spent all day preparing. You were hesitant at first to host the Burrow Thanksgiving dinner this year, but it made your heart swell with joy seeing all of your new family members enjoying their time together at yours and Joe’s house.

As you all ate your dinner…you told stories, shared laughs, and had many servings of the delicious food you prepared. Joe had lost count of how many pieces of ham he’s had, but that didn’t matter. He was just happy to have his ham.

“So Y/n, Joe,” Robin spoke, making you and Joe turn your attention to her. She had a giddy smile on her face as she looked at the two of you, “Any new wedding plans?”

You glanced over at Joe, seeing the small smirk on his face as he took a sip of his water. You looked back at Robin with a soft smile.

“We finalized the important stuff yesterday, now we just have to wait for the big day.”

“I can’t wait.” Robin said. “Me neither,” Joe’s brothers wife chimed in, “Seeing you two get married will be such a beautiful thing.”

“We’re really excited.” Joe replied from beside you, a smirk still plastered on his face as he looked at you while he spoke.

You and Joe were keeping a huge secret from your family. That secret being that you two secretly got married at the courthouse a couple weeks ago. You didn’t have much of a reason to except that the two of you were just ready to finally be married. It was a big secret to keep, but it was one that kept for a reason. You and Joe wanted something special for just the two of you before you had your big ceremony in March.

And a courthouse wedding was perfect for that.

After everyone was full of turkey, ham, mashed potatoes, and all the casseroles, you and Joe cleared the table while the men went into the living room to watch football and the women put the leftovers away.

You and Joe insisted that you two would clean the table off because it was your house, but also because you wanted just a moment alone together.

Once you picked up the last plate, Joe walked up to you and wrapped his arms around your waist.

“I’m so thankful for you, Y/n.” he murmured, placing a soft kiss to your forehead. You turned around in his embrace and craned your neck up, blushing slightly as you looked into your fiancé’s beautiful blues. “I’m so thankful for you too, Joey.”

He smiled sweetly at you as the two of you leaned in for a kiss. You pulled away and put your forehead on his, a sly smile on your face.

“Happy Turkey Day, Mr. Anti-Turkey.” Joe rolled his eyes playfully as he replied, “Happy Turkey Day to you too, Mrs. Burrow.”

hi loves!!

happy thanksgiving🤍

i got the idea earlier to do some thanksgiving/holiday blurbs for joe and some hockey players, so here’s the first blurb of the night. i’ve been combining requests too, so i hope that’s OK with everyone that’s sent me something :) also, some of these might be on the shorter side (like this one), i hope that’s ok too

i’ll be posting these little blurbs and ideas throughout the night tonight and all day tomorrow—there’s a LOT, so i hope you’re excited!!☺️

i hope you all had a wonderful day eating lots of food and spending time with friends and family!!

(i’ve got a cute little dad joe blurb coming next🤍)

#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow x y/n #joe burrow x you #joe burrow blurbs #joe burrow fic #thanksgiving blurbs

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bengals-barnesbabe · 3 months ago

Note

Could you possibly make a Joe x clingy wife🫣 My brain is craving it😭

~ enjoy ~

A lot of things in your life make perfect sense to you and your husband.

Like the home office that originally had two desks with some space between them, but now is one long desk with two comfy desk chairs side by side- his and hers of course.

Or the giant loveseat in your mini library/study that could fit the both of you with ease. And the modern shower with adjacent shower heads to spend and save time together.

These things made sense and some others would agree. But not all the things you did made sense to the other people in your life.

Like getting to games freakishly early to see your husband warm up and leaving very late just to go home together. Or never sitting in the warm box seats even when it’s 28° outside, you’ve always chosen to sit behind their bench.

Everyone knows you hate waking up early when it’s not called for, so they’re confused as to why you make sure to wake up whenever Joe gets up (even if it’s 4:45 AM). But what they don’t understand is you don’t wake up for no reason, you wake up for that sweet morning kiss from him that sends you back to sleep with a smile on your face.

Not everything you do has to make sense to them, because it makes sense to you and Joe.

-˚˖ ੭*⠤

It’s finally the offseason. Sure the season didn’t work out the way everyone hoped it would but you still witnessed the love of your life play the best football of his career. But it’s safe to say, you’re more than happy to have him all to yourself now.

So why is your home filled with laughter that does not belong to you or your husband?

Walking down the stairs, the chatter becomes clearer and you get the full picture of Joe, Ja’Marr, Tee, Sam (and his wife), and a couple other friends sitting in your living room.

So fun.

You greet everyone with a kind smile then tiptoe towards the kitchen to grab a large snack tray and hurriedly fill it with enough cheese, crackers and fruits that it can hold for the light dozen of people in your home.

Do you have to immediately turn into the picture perfect host? No, but it’s still a nice gesture to offer them. So you deliver the tray to the living room and place it on the coffee table, then go back to the kitchen and grab a case of chilled spring water to take over there as well.

The small group sung sweet praises for your kind gesture which warmed your heart like no other.

“Babe come sit.” Joe called you over with his pretty smile. The simple command caused fluttering in your stomach, you would never turn any of his offers down.

There was plenty of room for you to occupy, but there was only one seat you would ever want. Now, if the people in the room were strangers, you would sit on the couch next to your husband’s recliner. The seat was open, meaning they expected you to take it. But everyone in this room already knew you too well.

As you approached your destination, your husband instinctively held out his hand and pulled you into his lap while still holding a conversation about your next trip to Vegas with Sam.

Some of your friends chuckled silently as you got comfy in Joe’s lap, your arm resting behind his shoulders while you sat horizontally, one of his arms securing your back while the other tightly but lovingly held onto your thigh. It was perfect. This was you and Joe in a nutshell and no one would ever change that. Even your parents have gotten used to it.

Later on in the evening, most of the guests had cleared out and the snack tray was graciously empty. The only person left was Ja’Marr and considering he lived on the same street as us, he’d find his way home when he was ready and you weren’t one to push.

(Aka he’s a professional 3rd wheel and has pretty much walked in on us in almost every way you could imagine.)

“Hey Shadow,” you looked up from your phone instantly to the nickname the wide receiver had given you moons ago.

“Yes freelancer?” You bit back making Joe chuckle.

Ja’Marr rolled his eyes and relaxed back on your couch. “Relax. I met him before you did, Shadow.”

“And I got a ring before you did.” You smirked, feeling your husband attempt to hold back more laughter, keyword attempt.

The freelancer glares at both of you. “That was just wrong. You not even defending me to your wife, J?”

Joe shakes his head, a shameless smirk on curving up his pink lips. “Nah man, this is between you and her. I’m just enjoying the show.”

You chuckle and lean into him. “Wifey: One, Uno: None.”

Ja’Marr rolls his eyes and stands from the couch, looks back down at you cuddled up against his friend and chuckles. “She’s gonna snuggle you to death one day, J.”

Joe’s hand tightens around you as the front door shuts, emphasizing the fact that you’re now alone.

You look up at your grinning husband and peck his lips softly. “You hear that, I’m gonna snuggle you to death.”

He snorts holding you closer, if it’s even possible, and kisses your head. “Sounds like a perfect way to die to me.”

Turns out he’s just as clingy as you are, a perfect match if you’ve ever seen one.

#bengals barnesbabe #joe burrow x black reader #black reader #joe burrow x reader #nfl imagine #joe burrow #cincinnati bengals #joe burrow bengals #anon request #requests are open #joe burrow blurb #clingy duo #babe answers #joe burrow imagine

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joeyfranchise · 30 days ago

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love is the tuesdays

joe burrow x fem!reader

summary: joe asks your dad for his blessing to marry you, and then he reflects on what love really feels like.

warnings: it’s all fluff 🥺 but mdni with my page, thanks!!

word count: 1.4k.

note: i listened to tuesdays by jake scott and i was immediately inspired to write this. the song has such beautiful storytelling and it just reminded me of joe, so i needed to write it for you all to read. italicized bits are lyrics from the song.

this summer would make two years since you and joe became a couple.

you met him through your job, a small non-profit in cincinnati, where you occasionally took trips to paycor stadium to oversee events that involved the bengals organization and their players.

he was quiet at first, but always polite. he had the kind of smile that could light up a room, the kind that would knock the wind right out of you. he thought the same thing about you.

he was enamored with you almost immediately, the grace with which you handled yourself and the way you spoke so softly, the way you made everyone you talked to feel important. he always enjoyed the days he’d get to see you around the stadium, your presence became somewhat of a comfort for him, even though he barely knew you.

when he finally worked up the courage to ask you out, you accepted immediately, harboring a little crush on him yourself. you loved his laugh, when you’d see him goof off with his friends… in your eyes he was perfect, and he felt the same about you.

the rest was history.

since the first date you’d become inseparable, soaking up all the sweet moments you’d get with each other and falling deeper and deeper in love. that led joe to this moment.

you’d left for a business trip a few states over to help with a fundraiser, promising joe you’d be back in a few days time. he dropped you off at the airport with a sweet kiss and a light tap on the ass, which you scolded him for while simultaneously laughing.

once you were gone he went home, grabbed up his things, and drove to your hometown with the intention of talking to your parents, specifically your father.

joe had everything already planned, but he needed your dad’s blessing. he wanted to propose to you on the anniversary of your first date. he brought the ring with him as well, hoping your mother could give him a bit of insight on it.

when he arrived your parents were shocked, but he pleaded with them not to tell you he’d come by and that he planned on staying for a night.

“what brings you by, son?” your father had asked, raising an eyebrow at joe suspiciously. “not that we mind, of course,” your mom added, “just a bit unexpected.”

“well, sir,” joe began, fiddling with his fingers as he spoke, “i was hoping you and i could talk about something… maybe privately. sorry mrs. y/l/n.”

your father agreed, wrapping an arm around joe’s shoulder and leading him outside. your mother didn’t mind. she’d tell them later she knew all along, something to do with a mother’s intuition.

joe and your father sat down together on the porch swing, and your father kicked his legs out to set it into motion. “so, are you gonna ask for my blessing?” your father questioned, a knowing smile spread across his face.

joe was taken aback by the question, but he only let his confidence falter for a moment. “yes sir, that’s why i came here. i love your daughter so much and i want to marry her, and i know it means a lot to her to do things traditionally. so i’ve come to ask for your blessing and for whatever advice you can give me.”

“it’s been twenty seven years since i married her mother,” your dad started, leaning toward joe a bit, “and i wouldn’t change a single thing. what i’ll tell you is this… love is the tuesdays.”

joe looked perplexed by your father’s admission, simply asking him “what do you mean?”

your dad smiled again, resting a calm hand on joe’s shoulder. “what i mean is, it’s not always picture perfect dancing in a white dress. it’s not just rainy days when nothing stops the fighting. it’s not just highs and lows. it’s everything and all that in between. love is the tuesdays. if you want my blessing, kid, you’ve got it. but you had better treat my girl right.”

joe extended a hand for your father to shake, which he did with a firm grip. “i promise i’ll treat her right,” joe assured, “i love her more than anything.”

“i know you do. she feels the same about you,” your dad said, before hopping off the swing and heading inside. joe came in a few minutes later and spent the rest of the evening just going over his plan to propose to you, where he’d do it and how.

your mother teared up at the amount of thought joe had put into this, he knew how sentimental you were and he wanted every detail to be absolutely perfect. he admitted he didn’t care much for tradition, he’d marry you at the courthouse if it meant you’d be his forever, but he knew what it meant to you. that’s why he took the time meticulously curating every detail, and he knew it’d bring a smile to your face.

your parents enjoyed talking with him, but eventually they went off to bed, bidding him a good night. joe headed off to your childhood bedroom to get settled in for the night, hoping he’d be able to talk to you for a bit before he went to sleep.

the two of you got a few texts in, followed by matching ‘i love you, goodnight’ messages, and then joe locked and plugged in his phone before rolling to his side and closing his eyes, hoping sleep would find him.

as he tried to relax, your father’s words replayed in his mind. love is the tuesdays.

joe thought for a moment about what that meant. and what your love meant to him, what your relationship did for him. he realized that your love is breakfast thrown together, or sleeping in his high school sweater.

he always enjoyed those perfect, comfortable mornings when you didn’t have anywhere to be. you’d make your coffee and sit by the window, staring out at the view as you sipped the warm liquid, often with a book in your hands. you loved wearing his clothes, especially to sleep, and joe thought you were the most beautiful in those soft sweet moments. the way your hair cascaded down around your shoulders, your eyes still puffy from sleep. the way he could see you physically relax as soon as you took a sip of your coffee, your comfort in a cup.

when you’d finish you’d take it to the sink and start on breakfast, whatever he wanted for the day, and you’d eat together as you planned out the rest of your day, and even sometimes your week.

joe realized that love was the season three you’re watching, a little bit of evening walking, and sitting with your best friend talking.

he enjoyed watching any show with you, he loved your reactions and your sensitivity, how you were prone to cry at any given moment.

he loved going for quiet walks after dinner at night, given you both had the free time. the crickets would chirp around you as you walked hand in hand, sometimes stopping to twirl in the street.

he loved seeing you sit and talk with your best friends, how your smile would spread across your face as they made you laugh. love was sitting with his best friend, too.

ja’marr had told him many times, “you’re different around her, burrow. light. i like that.”

joe liked it too. he knew troubles would come, and that it wouldn’t always be easy, but he wanted every moment with you. in sickness and in health, to have and to hold, for richer and for poorer.

your fathers words echoed in his head again. “you’ve got my blessing… but love is the tuesdays.”

he finally fell asleep, and when he woke the next morning he had a small breakfast with your parents before grabbing his things and heading out, back home to cincinnati. he knew he needed to grab you from the airport the next day, and he wanted to be able to relax his nerves a bit before doing so.

he made it home safely, and the next day he greeted you at the airport with a bouquet of pink roses, one of your favorite flowers. “how’s my girl?” he asked you, leaning in to kiss your forehead.

“i’m great, the fundraiser went super well. how are you? did you get up to anything?” you asked, leaning into his side. a mischievous smirk spread across his face. “nah, i didn’t get up to anything. i’m just peachy!” he said.

“alright, you’re being weird,” you said, eyeing him suspiciously. “what’s gotten into you? you’re creeping me out!” you laughed. “nothing, nothing. i’m just excited,” he admitted, pulling you back into him.

“for what?” you prodded, expecting answers.

you didn’t even know the half of what was coming.

photos and dividers are not mine. all cred to owners.

taglist: @joeyburrrow @starsinthesky5 @joeyb1989 @kykysinlovewithafairytale @burrowdarling @loveyatopluto @toterry @unhingedfangirl @superheroprincess22 @burreauxsworld @slimshiesty @yelenasbraid

#joe burrow #cincinnati bengals #joe burrow fanfics #joe burrow imagines #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow x you #joe burrow blurb #joe burrow fanfiction #joey burrow #joey b #joe burrow bengals #joe burrow fanfic #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow smut #joe burrow fluff

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v6quewrlds · 21 days ago

Text

inspired by this ask <3

read more⠀⁎⠀joe burrow masterlist / series masterlist.

It started with a pair of headphones. A white, Apple AirPods Max, sitting unassumingly on the kitchen counter. They were out of place, utterly not belonging to Joe, who preferred his AirPods when he wasn't using his free Bose headphones from a sponsorship deal.

"Fuck," he groaned under his breath, dragging out the word as his head tipped back, eyes squeezing closed.

His grip tightened around his green smoothie, the cold condensation slipping through his fingers. She was hovering nearby, seated at the kitchen island, deep in the throes of her dermatology notes, the rhythm of her favorite playlist pulsating through the air as if a heartbeat only she could hear. She had parted the curtains, allowing the soft, early morning light to kiss her cheekbones, highlighting the soft brown of her skin.

Joe took a deep breath, the scent of her coconut shampoo lingering in the room, and approached her, his movements calculated and exact. He leaned in, his chest pressing to her back, strong hands falling onto the countertop. He effectively caged her in, the warmth of his body falling over her like a blanket. Her eyes remained glued to her notes, though a faint smile played on her lips as she sensed his presence, a familiar thrill skittering up her spine.

He didn't speak at first, just took a moment to breathe in her sweet scent, feeling the steady rise and fall of her body against his. His head dipped, sharp nose finding her neck, and he kissed her there, the softest brush of his lips. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she leaned back into him, a faint sound escaping her lips that was a mix of surprise and pleasure.

Joe's hand slipped from the countertop to her waist, his thumb tracing a lazy pattern over her stomach on the fabric of her shirt. "You look so focused," he murmured, his breath warm against her ear.

"And you feel the need to ruin it?" She quipped without missing a beat, though the delight in her voice betrayed her. She could feel the heat emanating from Joe's body, his scent of freshly showered man and generic deodorant mixing with the faint aroma of the smoothie he set down on the island. He was intoxicating, intentionally so, as always.

Joe chuckled lowly, nuzzling deeper into her skin, his lips finding the tender spot below her ear. "Me? Ruin? Never." His hand traveled upward, his thumb tracing the edge of her bra, a silent promise of the distraction to come. "I'm on my best behavior."

"As always?" she hummed noncommittally, evidence of the effectiveness of his distraction. An eyebrow arched, a smirk tugging at her lips as she leaned into his touch. Her hand reached up to find his forearm caging her in, her thumb stroking a gentle pattern against his taut skin.

"As always," he agreed, his voice a low rumble that seemed to resonate through her very bones. The smoothie was forgotten as Joe's hand moved to cradle the back of her neck, his fingers threading into her thick, dark hair. He kissed her neck more insistently now, his teeth grazing the soft skin there, his blue eyes closed in focus as she tilted her head to give him better access.

Her breath hitched, and she felt a warm flush creep up her neck as his kisses grew more demanding. "It's early," she murmured, though her protest was weak, her body already responding to his touch.

"Is it?" Joe's voice was a soft caress in her ear, his breath warm and teasing. He turned her barstool slightly, so she was angled towards him and leaned down for a kiss. She melted into the kiss, her eyes slipping closed as she savored the feeling of his lips on hers. The tip of his tongue traced the seam of her lips, and she opened for him, the kiss deepening.

When they broke apart, Joe's gaze held hers, pupils dilated with lust. "What?" she laughed, breaking his eye contact to glance back at her notes, trying to regain her focus.

"I need your help with something," he spoke. Help, he decided, was a better term than his actual intent. "In the guest bath."

Her eyes narrowed, a hint of suspicion creasing her brow as she tilted her head, but she didn't question further, assuming it was about a new decoration he was second-guessing or some other minor issue. "Okay," she said with a shrug, sliding off the barstool and setting her notes aside. She followed him to the half bathroom connected to the kitchen, the one used by guests by virtue of its easy access.

As she stepped into the small, pristine space, she couldn't help but note the absence of any apparent problem. The walls were a soft gray, the towels neatly folded and arranged by color and size. The scent of the housekeeper's recent deep clean hung faintly in the air, remnants of the level of care afforded to the home in its entirety. "So?" she asked, leaning against the sink, arms crossed under her breasts.

Joe shut the door behind them with a click, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. He stepped closer, the space between them shrinking until she could feel the heat radiating from his body, the beat of his heart pounding a rhythm that matched her own. His hand reached up to cup her cheek, his thumb tracing the fullness of her bottom lip. "This room," he said, his voice thick with a depth of desire she hadn't noticed before, "hasn't been christened."

In the blink of an eye, she was swept off her feet - literally. Joe's arms wrapped around her waist, lifting her onto the sink counter with an ease that belied his muscular bulk. The laughter that bubbled up in her chest was cut short as he claimed her mouth in a kiss that was anything but gentle.

"Joseph!" she gasped, pushing at his shoulders with a playful scolding. But Joe's eyes sparkled with mischief and something more, a silent dare that thrummed in the air between them. The room seemed to shrink around them as their kiss grew more fervent, his hands moving with purpose as they explored her body. Her fingers tangled in his hair, the softness of his shirt under her palms a stark contrast to the strength of his arms.

Then it struck her. The headphones. The bathroom. The gleam in his eye. This was no random act of passion; this was a deliberate move in some grand mission. Upon reflection, it made a strange sort of sense though she had initially brushed it off as an excessive of off-season energy. The house was theirs now, and Joe was a man who liked to conquer, to claim, to win. This was his way of stamping this new step into every corner of their shared space.

"Hold on," she said, breaking the kiss. Joe's expression was a blend of surprise and confusion. "Why do you wanna fuck in this specific bathroom?" Her lips curved into a smirk as she half teased, half tested her theory.

He leaned in closer, his forehead touching hers. "Because it's ours now," he whispered, his hand cupped her face, his thumb tracing the curve of her cheek. "And I want to claim every inch of it with you."

"Baby," she whispered, her eyes dancing with amusement, "our guests use this bathroom. Your mother washed her hands in this sink three days ago." Her voice was strained, sighing softly as his hands continued to roam. Large palms smoothed over her thighs, pushing her cotton shorts higher and higher. He took a moment to kiss her again, slow and lingering, before pulling back to meet her gaze, his own filled with a fiery determination.

"So?" He shrugged before getting back to business, his thumbs hooking the waistband of her shorts. "It's just a bathroom." His eyes dared her to protest, but she was already succumbing to the thrill of his touch, her body betraying any pretense of protest. "Our bathroom." He added the cherry on top, pink lips breaking into a proud smile as he pulled her top over her head.

Her eyes rolled, but her laugh was warm with affection. "Okay," she conceded, her voice a breathy whisper as Joe's hands dipped into her shorts, his fingertips fluttering over her center. She knew that tone, that look in his eye. He was deadly serious about this, his own brand of love language painted in brazen, physical strokes.

#&. joe x doctor!reader: blurbs.#joe burrow #joe burrow fanfic #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow smut #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow x black reader #joe burrow x black!reader

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burreauxwrites · 3 months ago

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“TIGER” - (joe burrow x reader)

description: while taking a bath with joe, you made an important discovery. he has stretch marks! (i wrote this after discovering that joe has stretch marks 🥹 he’s so lovely)

word count: 708

warnings: fluff, sharing a bath, joe is kind of touched deprived.

it had been a busy day for both you and joe. you had some work you had to get done, and joe had practice. there really wasn’t anything the both of you wanted more than to enjoy a relaxing bath and chat about your day together.

the both of you liked to call it your “nightly debriefing”. joe would talk about how practice went and any funny moments, while you shared some gossip and what your day was like at work.

joe started the water, running his hands beneath the rapid stream to check it’s temperature for the both of you. one the temperature was what you both desired, he put in the stopper, letting you add the body soap. you opted for a warm vanilla scent, compared to lavender.

the both of you stepped into the tub once the water finished filling it up, sinking into the warm, soapy water. joe looked at you fondly, shuffling over to you a bit.

“y/n, babe,” he asks, looking at you with a slight pleading look, “could you massage my back, please?”

“of course, joey.” you answered, nodding and beckoning joe to come closer and turn around.

when he does, your delicate hands run over his frame, kneading and working out any knots. a soft grin formed onto your lips as you heard him relax; he was always one of the most hardest working people you’ve ever known, and he deserved to have time to be calm and not feel stressed.

as you continue massaging him, you stop, a faint gasp escaping your lips.

joe had stretch marks. the most beautiful ones you’d ever seen, really. all of the lines on his back and shoulders stood out against his skin, soft and uneven, like ripples in sand after a wave. you figured they were from him working out a lot and bulking up quickly.

“what…?” joe questioned, noticing your gasp and the pause in your movement.

“you…you have stretch marks…” you murmured fondly.

joe chuckled, the sound rumbling his body a bit underneath your hands. “yeah, i do. it’s no biggie,” he shrugs, relaxing as you begin massaging him again, “when you gain muscle really quickly, that kind of thing tends to happen.”

you smiled, nodding as a soft hum came from you. your hands drew gentle circles around the scars as you stared at them lovingly. they’re so beautiful. he’s beautiful. you loved every single inch of joe, and the fact that he had stretch marks made him imperfectly perfect.

“they’re cute,” you cooed softly, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss onto his shoulder where the marks were, “they’re like…tiger stripes,” you giggled as you traced over the marks with your finger softly.

“tiger stripes, huh?” joe laughed, partially due to the ticklish sensation of your finger, and your words, “what, so i’m a tiger now?”

“mhm,” you agreed, continuing to pepper his shoulders and back in kisses. you pulled back for a moment, taking a warm look at his skin and making it your mission to commit it to memory, “you’re big, strong, kind of intimidating, and beautiful.”

joe shook his head at your words, sighing as you continued massaging his body. you always praised joe, both for his skills and physical traits. he found it sweet; he could have the most mundane mole or scar, and you treated it like a piece of art.

he leaned into your touch, his eyes fluttering shut for a small moment in relaxation. with a smile, leans back, putting a decent bit of weight on you, but not too much; he didn’t want to crush you.

you could tell he was feeling a bit touch deprived, but you didn’t mind. it was easy for you to tell that he was having a moment where he just wanted to be held. so, you leaned back against the tub, wrapping your arms around him with a smile.

“y/n?” joe asked, opening his eyes as he felt you rest your head onto his shoulder.

you perk up a little, “mhm?” you ask, looking at him warmly.

“i love you.” he sighed.

with a softened gaze, you run a thumb against his scarred skin with admiration and profound care.

“i love you too, tiger.”

#joe burrow #joe burrow fic #bengals #cincinnati bengals #joe brrr #joe burrow x oc #joey b #joey burrow #nfl #joe burrow blurb #blurb

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heavyhitterheaux · 1 month ago

Text

To Date or Not to Date

See Me Through You Blurb

Synopsis: Ja'Marr answers the famous TikTok question of "which teammate would he not let date his sister."

Pairing: Husband!Joe Burrow x Wife!Reader

Requested by: a gorgeous anon 😍

Series Masterlist

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

The Bengals had just wrapped up another practice on what turned out to be a windy day in Cincinnati. Everyone was making their way back into the locker room when Joe looked up and noticed that their social media team kept stopping players for what he assumed to be another TikTok that they were filming.

As Joe was approaching them along with Jake, he caught the tail end of the question that was currently being asked to Andrei and Tee.

“Which one of your teammates would you not let date your sister?”

“Love all these guys on my team, but for Geno… it's a no!” Andrei said before walking off and all of the attention was now on Tee.

“Well, Tee, what are your thoughts? Who would you not let date your sister?” Kelsey from the social media team asked him.

“Ja’Marr because he's a hoe! Oh shit, can I say that on camera?” He asked as his eyes went wide. But what he didn't notice was Ja’Marr right behind him.

“Excuse me, Tee! I heard that with your big ass mouth! They're going to have to edit this out.” Ja’Marr told him before Kelsey held the mic up to him.

“Okay, Ja'Marr you're up. Who would you not let date your sister?”

Ja’Marr looked dead into the camera and without hesitation said the name that no one expected.

“Joe.”

“Um, Ja'Marr….” Kelsey started to say when she saw Joe approaching him from behind and said nothing as Joe caught him in a headlock.

“AH! Get off me! I was just playing! Damn!”

“Well jokes on your dumbass because we're married.” Joe told him as Ja'Marr was trying to get out of his grip.

“Ouch! Okay! Okay! I take it back! Unhand me! I'm your brother-in-law!”

“And that's why you shouldn't have said it!”

“Get him again for me, Joe!” Tee yelled as Joe laughed before finally loosening his grip.

Once he finally did, the two of them continued towards the locker room.

“Joe, I'm telling your wife that you attacked me!”

“And you know good and damn well the first question out of her mouth is going to be if you deserved it or not. So therefore, I highly doubt that she would care.”

“You right. She mean as hell and would probably laugh at me. Look, I even asked you THIRTY minutes before the wedding if you were sure about marrying her. I mean better for me since she now had someone else to bother so she wouldn't be constantly blowing up my phone.”

“She still does?”

“You're right, but don't tell her I said that. Wait, am I still invited to dinner tonight?”

“Let’s call her and ask.”

“Wait, what? Joe, don't you dare tell on me.”

“Too late. Hello? Hi, baby doll. Let me tell you what your brother did at practice today.” Joe said into the phone with you on the other end.

“Oh no. Is he still in one piece?”

“I left him in one piece, but he came close to losing a body part.”

“Don't listen to him, Pebbles! I'm innocent!” Ja’Marr said as he tried to take the phone, but Joe swatted his hand away.

“He has never been innocent, so go on.” You told him as you were currently trying to pick out an outfit to go to lunch with your mom.

“So, you know our social media team is always out here and Kelsey asked him ‘which player would you not let date your sister?’ And your twin who was found in a dumpster behind Popeyes…”

“Joe, what the hell!?” Yelled Ja’Marr as he threw his hands up in disbelief.

“Stop interrupting. He decided to say my name and earned himself being put in a headlock and asked me after the fact if he is still invited over for dinner.”

You couldn't help but to immediately laugh before responding back to your husband.

“I'll go to PetsMart on my way home from lunch and get a doggy bowl to put outside for him.”

#joe burrow #joe burrow blurb #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow fluff #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow x black reader #joe burrow fanfiction #joe burrow fanfic #joey burrow #joe shiesty #nfl imagine

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starsinthesky5 · 2 months ago

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I think about this more than a healthy amount for some reason, so I gotta get it out there.

Joe really doesn’t like being called “Joey”. It’s just a childhood name that he feels he’s grown out of. BUT I think he’d have such a soft spot for his girl calling him Joey 🥹 maybe it catches him off guard the first time she lets it slip, but he likes it a lot more than he thought he would. And from then on he only wants to be her Joey and he gets all pouty when she just calls him Joe.

Soft cuddly little Joey bear is my favorite (grumpy irritated Joe is a very close second)

say it, please || joe burrow x reader

description: the ask pretty much sums it up!!

a/n: wow? another blurb? who am i?? this might be how i get back on track with YBWM and I'm not complaining!! again, rushed, written in a few hours, so please don't tell me if you hate it

word count: 1.9 k

warnings: fluffy fluff fluff

taglist: (ask to be added): @joeyfranchise @joeyb1989 @joeyburrrow @softburrow @burrowbarbie @yelenasbraid @lovelyburrow @yelenasbraid @starkeyswomen @grittysbiggestfan @definitelynotdomanique @lilfreakjez @fourburrow

───────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───────

oh joe absolutely despises it when people call him joey. no matter who it is, his mom, his dad, his closest childhood friends, even his nana. he just hates it. he’d complain about how it was too “babyish” and “embarrassing”, and that joe was more adult and manly. joey didn’t fit that stone-cold, joe cool persona he had going on…joey was more like “oh, here’s our soft, cuddly, teddy bear QB1” and he grimaced every time he thought about it.

until you came around.

you knew that he didn’t like the cute little nickname, it was one of the first things robin had warned you about when you had your first one-on-one talk with her. you never really understood why he hated it, because his reasoning seemed pretty dumb. it was just a nickname, right? and it perfectly matched how he’d get when he had those adorable puppy dog eyes and rosy cheeks. it was just so right.

but you loved joe, so naturally you respected his wishes just as he respected yours. you dropped the idea of the nickname and carried on.

until one lazy sunday afternoon in the middle of february.

you were doing your best attempt at shielding yourself from the bitter winter cold, curled up on the couch with your oversized plush bengals blanket and wearing one of joe’s old LSU hoodies. in your lap was your tablet, and the app opened up was your sketchpad. you worked in graphic design, so you were naturally always found with your apple pencil between your fingers and with this app on the screen in front of you. the latest project you had was not the usual kind—this one was a favor called in by a local cafe, a hidden gem in the heart of the queen city which happened to be one of joe’s favorite spots since he came to cincy. it was quiet, hidden, intimate, and the perfect spot to have a normal conversation with normal people; just how joe liked it. so when he had leisurely strolled into the cafe as usual one day after practice, he found himself caught up in a conversation with the owner (more so his newest best friend considering he went to the cafe every single day after practice) and the topic at hand was their recent obsessions. it was silly, but it was a good conversation to have over smoothies & muffins after a grueling day as star quarterback joe burrow. sometimes he just wanted to be joe again, especially with his friends, and this cafe was a great place to do so.

anyway, for steve, his obsession was the latest addition to his cafe. a shiny new espresso machine with too many settings and advancements to count.

for joe, it honestly should’ve been obvious to anyone with working eyes considering every time he thought about it out loud or in his mind—which was a lot—his cheeks turned pink and his eyes softened like he was a stick of melting butter. there was only one thing that could make joe feel and look like that, and everyone in town knew what it was. i mean, it was the hottest topic once you showed up on the sidelines wearing that initial around your neck before the wild card game against the ravens.

his recent obsession was none other than his lovely, adorable, larger than life…future wife.

his precious girlfriend.

you.

he was going on and on about you with that goofy boyish smile to the point where steve was questioning if joe was drunk, high, delirious, or all of the above and just deeply unwell. and honestly, he was.

he was completely, totally, and utterly lovesick.

joe rambled on about anything and everything related to you. from your unique hobbies like forging & pressing flowers into journals and resin molds, to your interests that didn’t involve sitting in the stands and cursing out referees for bullshit penalties, and even your cute little habits such as spraying joe’s cologne on your hoodies while he was at an away game so that you could still be close to him. he just loved to talk about you, to tell people how you and everything about you had been such a breath of fresh air in his suffocating life. you were the change of pace he so desperately needed, and he was going to make sure the entire world knew of that.

then, he started telling steve about your passion for graphic design. you worked full-time at a PR firm for it, but that didn’t stop you from dabbling into side projects in which you had complete control. you’ve designed things like wedding invitations, baby announcements, birthday cards, and even a few shirt designs for your old high school. you were extremely talented, so obviously he’d show you off in that sense too. he loved how hardworking, independent, and creative you were.

that conversation joe had with steve was how you now ended up re-designing steve’s cafe’s logo for him. you really didn’t mind doing it, not that you could say no if you did mind anyway. you knew steve was joe’s friend so if you said no for a good reason, he’d understand, but if word got out that joe burrow’s girlfriend refused to help out a local cafe with something like this…whew. bad bad PR. so, it was a good thing that you loved designing and sketching in your free time because there was no reason for you to say no. everyone would be happy :)

as you twirled your pencil in your hand, gliding the tip along the screen to perfect the border of the design, you felt a weight press down on your shoulder—warm, soft, and familiar.

joe.

he really loved watching you do your thing, bonus points if he got to cuddle with you while you were doing your thing, so this was a natural place for him to be found now. you were completely focused on the task at hand, that you didn’t realize when he started talking to you. your ears picked up on bits and pieces of what he was saying, but most of it was drowned out by your own inner thoughts as you contemplated over which shade of green to use in the logo.

“...so, is it okay if we order in from gloria’s tonight instead of going out in the storm?” he asked, his warm breath tickling your skin as he pushed himself further into the crook of your neck. he’d hide in there if he could, maybe even nestle himself inside your pocket to be as close to you as humanly possible.

you heard him, and you thought you responded, but that must’ve been in your imagination because then you felt him gently poke your thigh to get your attention. “oh, hm?” you hummed, slightly tilting your head down to see him but keeping your gaze fixed on the screen in front of you. “...yeah, that’s fine joey,” you mumbled, not aware of what you were saying, and what name you just said.

his heart stuttered in his chest, skipping a beat before picking up again, softer this time—like it was melting right into his ribs. that name, the one that usually made him cringe, that usually made him irritated, suddenly felt…warm. safe. like something sacred.

because it came from you.

you weren’t teasing him. you weren’t babying him. you just said it, all soft and dreamy, like it was the most natural thing in the world. like it belonged to him, to you—to both of you.

joe blinked, his lips parting slightly, his body no longer tense against you but loose, relaxed in a way he didn’t even know he could be. his fingers twitched against his lap, itching to reach for you, to pull you close, to hear you say it again.

“yeah?” he murmured, voice quieter now, hesitant almost.

you finally peeled your eyes away from the screen, meeting his gaze, and that’s when it really hit him. the warmth in your expression, the way your lips curled ever so slightly, the way you looked at him like he was your favorite person in the entire world.

god.

and from then on, he only wanted to be your joey. not joe. not burrow. not anything else. just your joey.

and he made it painfully obvious.

the first time you called him just joe after that, it was like you stole the sun right out of his sky. his face fell so fast it was almost humorous—eyebrows knitted together, lips pressed into the softest little pout as he stared at you like you’d just broken his heart.

“what?” you blinked, confused at his odd expression.

he huffed, shifting closer to you on the couch, arms crossing over his chest in the most dramatic sulk you’d ever seen. “nothing,” he mumbled, but it was so very much something.

you tilted your head, studying him, before realization hit you.”oh my god,” you gasped, a slow grin creeping onto your face. “are you pouting because i called you joe?”.

he stayed silent. just pouted harder.

you laughed, reaching over to cup his face, thumbs brushing over his warm, slightly flushed cheeks. “baby, do you wanna be my little joey again?”.

his lashes fluttered, shoulders dropping as he leaned into your touch like it was the only thing tethering him to the earth. and then, so quiet, so needy, it almost made your heart burst—

“say it, please.”

your breath hitched.

oh.

his voice was barely above a whisper, but you could feel it—the weight of his words, the way he needed to hear it from you, how it felt different when it came from your lips. he didn’t just want the name. he wanted you saying it, holding it close like it was something precious. like he was something precious.

you softened, pulling him impossibly closer, pressing a kiss to his forehead, then his temple, then the corner of his mouth. “okay, joey,” you whispered against his lips, the name dripping in warmth, in love, in everything he ever wanted to hear from you.

he melted instantly, arms wrapping tight around your waist, his face nuzzling into your neck like he never wanted to leave. and god, he didn’t. he wanted to stay like this forever, wrapped up in you, basking in the way you said his name like it belonged to you and you alone.

because it did.

no one else could say it like you. no one else could make his chest ache in the best way, could make his heart stutter and swell all at once. no one else could make him love the name he once hated.

only you.

his girl. his love. his everything.

your joey.

only yours. always.

–the end–

#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #blurb asks #joe burrow x y/n #joe burrow fluff #joe burrow bengals #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow fanfic #joe burrow fic #nfl imagine #joe burrow x you

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