nainablabla - Tumblr blog

nainablabla · 2 years ago

Text

Ease My Mind

Seldom did Joe lose his serene and composed demeanor. At least not outwardly. It periodically became easier to notice the shift, the sway in his everyday presence. As July rolled in, when the weeks passed in a haze, hot summer heat idle in the air, you observed as your lover lumbered through another day without a vocal complaint. It was the soft sighs, slouching shoulders, tender muscles, and tired eyes repeatedly finding salvage between your arms. Within your grasp, lips pressed against your chest and silky strands brushing underneath your chin, was where he felt most at peace, the voices in his head muted.

It was uncanny, you thought, sitting at the edge of the tub as Joe leaned back, body immersed in an ice bath. Uncanny that a season like Summer symbolizing warmth and positivity became such a dreadful time for him. The pressure he placed on himself tormented, gravely demeaning. It was times like this when the expectations from himself and the public, the desire to perform beyond optimal perfection, settled deep into his soul, rattling his bones, and forcing him past even his own lengthy limits. He was never unrestrained from his job. Instead, he was entirely devoted and enthroned till his very last game. Till the final call, the end of an era belonging to Cincinnati’s golden boy.

When February ended, and March peeked into your lives, it was bliss. You gave Joe grace for a few weeks to wrap his mind around another completed season and permit him time to heal and redeem his emotions. By late February he’d recomposed, football aside, and you both played house. From hometown trips, aimless drives, mid-day chatter, and the ever-so-thrilling nights in bed. The following months leading up to this moment, when the kisses and embraces became more compassionate, the moments held fragile, and the memories of another off-season taunting.

And today as you sat before him, watching dawn grace his face golden yellow, concealing those electric blue eyes, you could not help but feel a twinge of guilt. Off-season despite its bliss, signified more acknowledged time apart. It was easier during the season to work, share meals, take evenings in, lazy mornings in bed on off days, spend your weekends cheering him on, road trips, and fancy team dinners. Any moment together was treasured, the routine ironically steady. But now you pondered if a phone call to the hospital would suffice the turmoils in your stomach. A harmless sick day, an opportunity to play hooky, a chance to pull Joe away from his mind. Your feet moved before the gears in your brain, and within seconds you managed to escape the tiring but rewarding 12 hours ahead, to instead look after your lover.

Upon returning to the bathroom, you met with those captivating blue eyes. Joe smiled at you softly, eyes glancing over your frame. His voice barely audible as he muttered a “Hey you”. Some mornings were brief. He’d catch your lips in a rush, pulling the hem of an oversized shirt covering your body closer precipitously. His hands would find your waist, consuming your senses in just a few seconds, till you’d split, forced to conquer your days. He missed the feel of you against him, the hours spent keeping each other warm, and his ears sought the medley you’d spill from within, only made for him. But his muscles were sore, his legs throbbing, and when he had you alone he selfishly craved your nursing. Familiar hands massaging every aching spot, lips pressing pleasant kisses to sections of pain, and those loving eyes he prayed to call his forever laced with concern before he’d dismiss your mind, venture to revoke the fear in your voice, drive away all worry and pull you into sleep with him, holding you close as if to persuade you he was well.

And as you lay next to him, watching him drift away, observing the crease between his brows resolve and his chest rise and fall with tiresome depth, you knew he was attempting to convince himself.

This morning, however, he noted the relaxation in your stride. His gaze observed as you sat near him, pulling your long hair back before those angelic eyes inched closer, and you pressed your lips to his dearly. The water shifted, barely jumping at the contact of his cold and wet hand against the warm skin of your neck until another held you in place, securing your bare legs, thick fingers pressing into your skin. He groaned as your part, a lazy smile on your lips. The hem of your shirt was wet, water trickling down your neck. Joe’s profound chest was littered with droplets, shimmering against the ray of dawn. You placed your forehead against his, closing your eyes as the feel of his hands crept closer to your bottom. He muttered incoherent remarks at the first feel of thin lace. Before he could pull you in, you spoke.

“What time is practice?” your voice was sweet, almost hushed. His head fell back, a desolate sigh leaving his lips. The room fell quiet again. You placed your lips against his neck, painting a pathway of gentle kisses to his jaw. “Around noon.” His fingers tugged the thin material covering your body, distressed hands longing to have his way. Pulling away, you nodded, your eyes wandering to the large window behind you. The sun was barely up, and Joe had finished an early morning workout already. “Well then,” You faced him again, reaching for a towel on the vanity, holding it out for him. “Better get you some breakfast.”

The house was beginning to glow as the sun inched steadily above the horizon. The white walls became yellow, the hardwood floors shining. The aroma of coffee engulfed Joe’s senses as he made his way down the stairs toward the kitchen. He found you assembling freshly toasted frozen waffles on a plate, dousing them with savory syrup. Before he could protest or retreat from anything outside of his strict diet, you spoke.

“Not today Burrow, one sugary breakfast won’t hurt you.” You motioned to the coffee cups as you lead him to the balcony, nudging the large French doors open with your foot, setting the plates before both of you on the table, as you relaxed into the patio couch. Joe took a hearty bite of a waffle, mouth overcome with sweetness and delight. But nothing matched the pacifying look in your eyes when he turned to face you. “Told you,” you whispered, a smile lurking on your lips. You both ate in silence for a moment, watching the day come alive before you. Finally, Joe spoke aloud, his arm circling your waist.

“Don’t you have work today?” He asked, confusion spreading over his face. He toyed with the hem of your shirt, tips of his fingers daring to graze skin. “No, I called in,” you declared simply, watching as the furrow between his eyebrows became apparent. “I want to spend the day with you.” You added, extending your leg over him, placing your weight on his large thighs. Your hands ran up his neck, as you bent towards him, lips barely apart. “I want to look after you today.” You whispered, exploring his eyes for a sign of solace. “Y/N you didn’t have to …”

Joe admired your drive and passion for your profession. He was in awe of your selfless nature to look after others day and night. During the season you put aside your career some weeks to help him focus, support him and be present with him. And he despised pulling you away from what you loved and did best. “I know, trust me I know, but I want to calm down whatever it is going on in here.” Your voice was an analgesic, and your fingers recovered as they ran through his hair, stroking his scalp. He fell loose before you, allowing you to take authority as you kissed him. His body settled beneath your touch. Your hands ran up his arms which had grown over the last few weeks, along his torso which was more firm. And as your chest pressed against his, your hair falling to frame his face, the taste of syrup and coffee filling his mouth, he guided you underneath him. His calloused restless hands found residence beneath your shirt, feeling the panes of your back as Joe released his weight gently onto you. Your hips pushed against his, a gasp escaping your lips when those blue eyes flashed before you, the larger man practically crawling down your body.

Despite the yearning, regardless of the butterflies in your stomach, you withdrew, mumbling a breathless “Wait”, the tips of your digits pushing into his broad shoulders. “Not yet,” you whimpered, sighing. You swiped the sole curl on his forehead aside as he fell next to you, face nestled into your neck. “Not yet.” You whispered, feeling his lashes flutter against you, the silent consolation when he found your skin underneath fabric again, legs entangling with yours. The pleasure he desired was not a remedy for easing his mind. And while you held him, grazing your fingers through his hair, you observed as his body rose and fell steadily. And as the day awoke, Joe slept within your arms, and you didn’t dare wake him till just before noon.

The sun was fully awake as you stood on the sidelines of Paycor Stadium. The sky above you a vivacious blue, not a cloud in sight. You watched Joe run drills with the team. Those long muscular legs were quick and fast. Daring blue eyes hyper-focused. And every throw was meticulous, as the football spun seamlessly into the hands of his receivers. His orange jersey brought out the tan in his skin which glistened underneath the heat.

As the whistle blew for a water break, Joe permit himself to look at you. When you followed him to the car this morning, any dread of practice seeped through him when you declared you would join. And now, as you stood a few steps away, engaged in polite conversation with the training staff, Joe pulled his ears from the banter amongst his teammates, tuning their voices out, and found serenity at the sight of you.

It was a challenge not to fixate on you during drills, knowing in the back of his mind, from the corner of his eyes that the pretty girl in the blue sundress with tiny daisies was his girl. The sun gleamed down on your rich skin, hair loose, blowing slightly with the soft breeze. White cheeky heart-shaped sunglasses rested atop your head. Your cheeks were rosy from the heat and that pretty smile on your pink lips filled him with warmth greater than the scorching heat as you listened intently to your speaker. Far too mesmerized, Joe barely heard the whistle blow near him. It wasn’t until Coach Taylor yelled his name demanding his attention, followed by the snicker of his teammates as they glanced back at their quarterback’s weakness did he ultimately draw his eyes from you, but not until catching sight of a reassuring smile you sent his way.

In another two hours, you had sought shade in the tunnel watching as practice concluded. As the men made their way off the green grass, some stopping to embrace you, you watched Coach Taylor pull Joe aside. At first, his broad shoulders seemed to tighten, those fine lips pursed, but then as the words left the Coach’s mouth you watched him ease back into comfort. The pair approached you then, anticipation bubbled as a glistening Joe headed straight for you. “Joe is excused from media obligations today Y/N.” You smiled at Coach Taylor as he sent you a wink, bidding you both well.

Your chest rose and fell prominently as Joe stood before you. Your fingers intertwined with his as your backside depressed against the firm wall. “I don’t know what you did, but thank you.” The skin of his cheeks and forehead was sunkissed, the redness evident, and his baby blue eyes more luminous outside. The hair atop his head was messy, which he pushed back with his hand. With weary eyes Joe scanned near and far, before resting a hand over your head, bending down to press a grateful kiss to your lips. His right knee lightly pushed against your thigh, the edge of your little sun dress lifting dangerously higher. Your mind felt foggy, swamped with the fragrances of sweat, grass, and remnants of his cologne. Your arms wrapped around his neck, trying to reach his height as you stood on your toes, practically falling into him. And you didn’t pull back, not until a stream of whistles emerged from nearby. Joe laughed as he walked back into the locker room, turning to find your cheeks blushed, pulling the sunglasses over your eyes.

The house was silent, except for the sounds of soft breaths, the pages of your novel turning as your eyes skimmed over words, and the scratch of Joe’s pen against paper. The sun was beginning to descend below the horizon, the sky outside a canvas of cotton candy pink. The sound of Joe’s heartbeat filled your ears, as you lay your head on his chest, meshed into the couch. Much to your dismay, Joe was distracted with an article on his play. The writer critiqued his form, speed, and resilience. You listened as his heart quickened, frustration evident as he shifted uncomfortably against you. He obsessively underlined phrases and lines, reading over and over what this foreign man claimed he needed to improve. Unable to take it anymore you shifted, your weight no longer pulling into him and he forced his eyes away, a sudden panic as you stood up. Your novel fell in your spot on the couch, unfazed as you lost your page. “Put it away, please, for your sanity just put it away.” Joe watched as the familiar fear clouded your eyes.

There were only so many times he could play dumb.

Circling your hand around his, you gestured for him to join you. Trailing behind you like a lost puppy, he watched your fingers skim as you flipped light switches, the house becoming dark as did the sky, a sleek dark blue. Reaching the bathroom, you pressed your palms into Joe’s chest, pushing him back towards the vanity. He watched as you filled the tub with warm water, the steam rising. You made your way effortlessly through the bathroom depositing rose and lavender Epsom salts into the water. Finally, when the tub was full, the waft of rose and lavender swallowing him, you came closer, your dainty fingers falling to his gray cotton shorts. Your fingers danced through the strings, loosening them as your hands slid up higher, pulling the black shirt over his head. Your eyes never met his, but he kept his on you, watching as the concern laced your features, tears threatening to spill.

“I want you to get in.” your voice was hushed, sending a shiver down his spine as he nodded, forcing his hands away from your waist as you turned without a glimpse. The door shut behind you, and you lingered, holding your breath till you heard the water shift, his relieved sigh loud as you imagined him descending into the water. After a few minutes of solitude, you knocked, peaking your head into the bathroom, catching Joe in utopia, head back, eyes closed as the warmth around soothed every muscle, each nerve, and delighted his skin. Quietly you sat next to him, your hips in alignment with his head.

His eyes opened at the first feel of your touch and closed almost immediately. Loving hands massaged his shoulder, your palms outlining the pane of his collarbone, gracing his back, watching as he tensed and eased back into you. Dipping your hands into the water, you brought them back up, running your fingers through his scalp, washing away the scents reminding you of locker room shampoo. You worked quietly, shifting to press your hands into any exposed skin, bringing his arms to rest against your bare thighs as you relieved each knot, every tense form.

His eyes opened as his head fell against your stomach, his large hands closing around yours resting on his bare chest. The silence was comfort. The night had become cool, the floor beneath your feet icey. “What is it that’s on your mind?” He shifted against you, a sigh following a long pause. “What if I’m not good enough? What if I let everyone down again?” You purse your lips at these words, scouring for the right things to say as your head dipped lower in gloom. “You’re always going to think you need to do better. And whether you or not you see it, you are better, every year. A trophy doesn’t prove your worth.” You hovered your hand underneath his chin, pulling his head back as you grazed your lips over his. He kissed you feverishly. “You just have to remind yourself you are getting better. It isn’t fair to not love and appreciate yourself the way you do others.” His features softened, eyes fading into realization.

As he fell back into you, your hold tighter, you whispered into his ear, pressing your lips against it as if to seal the deal. “You play the game for a living, but you can’t live to play. There will always be someone to tell you that you aren’t better, but if you choose to listen and drive yourself into suffering when instead you can use it to build yourself soundly, I can only speculate how your mind would ease.” For a few more minutes you held him, listening to the sound of his breathing as his eyes stared out into the darkness, your words shifting in his brain.

And as you started the shower, pressing a loving kiss to his lips, you left the bathroom, retreating back to settle your own mind.

When you entered the bedroom again he sat against the headboard, long legs hanging off the bed, feet planted firmly on the ground, and a sober look on his face. Wordless, he reached for you, drawing you near, your legs draping over his thick-toned thighs, skin unveiled as his shorts rose higher. “You’re right Y/N.” The two simple words lingered between you, the concern in your eyes overcome with endearment. You pressed your lips into the crook of his neck, cheek resting on his shoulder as your arms wrapped around him. You breathed in the smells of rose and lavender, your brain fuzzy and stomach filling with butterflies. His fingers danced in your hair, an arm draped across your waist holding you close. “Lean back Joe.” he groaned ever so softly as you pulled away, in search of what it is you needed.

He watched through heavy lustful eyes as you rummaged through the drawers, smiling as you pulled a pain relief oil from one. “Tell me where it hurts.” The room was dim, and as your bodies made shadows on the walls, the glow warm, your eyes glistening before him, Joe obeyed, guiding your hand to his left thigh. Sitting before him on your knees, settled between his outstretched legs, he gulped as you raised his shorts higher, heat rushing to your cheeks as the oil you rubbed between your palms met his thigh, fidgeting underneath your tedious hands. Slowly you made your way through every painful location, and as you pulled the his shirt over his head, your own eyes heavy, you beckoned to switch spots, settling behind him, drawing circles into the panes of his back, up his spine and down his biceps. And with every ease of pain, every delicate touch of love, he fell deeper in love if possible.

He listened as the water ran in the shower, waiting for you as the effects of the oil seeped into his muscles. For the first time in days he felt free. For the first time in days he didn’t dread tomorrow. And as you opened the door, eyes catching his, you made you way back to him hesitantly, afraid to inflict more pain. “There you go, that’s better.” You chuckled at his teasing remarks, cheeks crimson as your core met his thigh, his hands pulling the lace robe off your body, revealing white lace in the most intimate of spots.

“Thank you for today, and everyday,” he whispered, bringing you down with him, rolling over to face you as you fell beneath him. You nodded, knowing slowly but surely Joe understood. Your fingers traced the brim of his nose, the outline of his lips before digging your fingers into the hem of his shorts. You shuddered as his hands inched higher up your thighs, his lips trailing from your lips, down your neck, and descending below your sternum.

You sunk further in bed, engulfed by the sheets as his hands got lost in your hair, trailed down your warm arms and cupped your cheeks as his teeth grazed your bottom lip. “I wish I could make you forget it all” you whispered, words dripping with sympathy. He nodded against you, “I know …, I know …”. Your heart fluttered as his hips pressed against yours, skin meeting skin as your bodies entangled. Cupping his face within your hands you halted him, watching those desperate eyes hold your gaze intently. “You’re more than enough nine”. You watched the calm wash over his face, pictured the wave of relief running through his mind. And you kissed him, drawing him from his woes, pulling him into another world, reminding him just how much you loved him.

#joe burrow #joe burrow imagines #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow imagine #cincinnati bengals #begals #joe burrow one shot #fluffy hair #fanfic #joe burrow fan fic

231 notes · View notes

nainablabla · 2 years ago

Text

Field Day

Two in a row?! Look at me go 💁🏻‍♀️

You thought the division championship would be the highlight of your night? Not if Joe B has anything to say about it…

*filth filth filth. run, little babies.*

@balanceingrace in grace, the KWEEN she is, saved the day with this pic porn ^ AND title ♥️

Another division championship under his belt, and your man was flying high. Joe was a conquerer. He fed on being the defeater in any & every situation, and when he was lucky enough to do so, you reaped the benefits.

Some Family had filtered out, media was finalizing all their comments, & a few of the closest teammates that had lingered around in an easy celebration had started to pack their duffles for home. With a home win like this one, stadium celebrations were a golden luxury. No rush off to the tarmac & having to celebrate over FaceTimes with wives or parents. All the loved ones were at arms length for hugs & champagne spritzes.

You loved to see Joe on top of the world. Exasperated redness in his cheeks, half form a chilly wind blowing into his helmet, the other half a flush from the thrill & liquor.

“Always my lucky charm,” he glided across the room to compliment you with a kiss.

He’d removed his game gear, clad now in his newest ‘champs’ tee and a pair of loose black shorts. A white hat was shifted backwards on his head, sandy curls flipping from beneath it. He was a sight in every positive meaning of the word.

“And always happy to be”, you grinned, receiving his sneaky tongue excitedly into your mouth. He wasn’t one to display such affectionate exchanges in public usually, but these wins made him bold. That masculine boldness that swelled you with the nastiest kind of arousal, the mystery of what he’d do next taunting the gape of your legs.

His parents approached with their goodbyes & congratulatory hugs, yet, you wondered why Joe showed no evidence of packing his belongings to leave.

With only a few cleaning staff members still buried in the mess of a massive celebration had by all, there were some stray coaches left headed to their cars.

“You ready to head out, babe? I’m sure a lot of the traffic has cleared out by now.”

He dropped his head, trying to hide a bitten back smile & wild eyes.

“C’mon. There’s something I’ve gotta do before we get out of here.”

Eerily aware of the cunning cadence behind his words, you took his offered hand & obliged to head back towards the now hauntingly empty stadium.

All the lights had been killed, only the backlight of a scoreboard cast shadows upon you. He slowed at the tunnels exit, appearing to bask momentarily. Rightfully so.

“You trust me?” He grinned with a squeeze to your hand, waiting response behind hooded, buzzed eyes.

“I did before you asked me that…” you chuckled harmlessly.

He steered you farther in the center of the echoing emptiness, the grip around your hand noticeably tightening. There was a faint sound of a humming light lingering, but otherwise it seemed Joey’s heartbeat was thumping over the loud speaker.

He planted his feet, coming to a wobbly stop, and you noticed him fidgeting with the chain of his necklace hidden inside his shirt.

“All of this,” he gestured, “means absolutely nothing without you in the picture. I’d walk away from every fucking bit of it right this moment if you asked me to, as long as you’re holding my hand.”

A quiver fell upon your lip as you noticed a mist fall over his icy eyes. Joe was a sure man, in everything he did. Decisive & steady always. Almost arrogantly outgoing in all his decisions. This Joe, was different.

“You’re the only thing I want to see when my eyes open, and the only thing that makes all this bullshit worth while at the end of the day. All I want, is you.”

You stifled an audible gasp when he fell to a knee, pulling his chain loose into his hand & carefully dropping a ring into his palm. A delicate band held the hearty weight of an oval diamond.

“The only thing to make this day end perfectly, is for you to say yes.” He waited, as if you’d even have to give one minuscule thought to an answer. “Will you marry me?”

With a whooping, resounding ‘yes’, you drug Joe to his feet, pouncing him with smothering kisses and the tightest hugs you could muster.

“I love you, so, so much. SO much!” If a squeal could rupture an eardrum, you were certain poor Joe would be a victim in that moment. Although fully satisfied with the relationship you had with him, truthfully, had this moment never arrived, you weren’t sure it would be much bother.

As you returned his elated kisses, you could almost feel a palatable energy shift in the atmosphere around the two of you. His hands began to roam wildly over your worthy curves, barely breaking your mouths to gasp for fresh air. No question he could feel the impassioned heat igniting inside your jeans, grinding up against his belly where he held you tight.

“Damn it, baby,” he graveled as you sucked a tender spot just below his ear.

“Take me home, fiancé.” You dared, securing a handful of his hardness in the palm of your hand.

“Oh, fuck that. I’m having you right this fucking second.” Joe slung you over his shoulder as if you’d been weightless, & carried you easily to the bench still sprinkled with the leftovers of confetti, massaging you behind unzipped black jeans.

“Wet & ready, just how I like it.” He pointed, pulling your pants loose to lay your bare ass on the cool metal bench.

“So I get a reward now?” You playfully encouraged him, knowing just how to stir him up.

“You better fucking believe it. But first, daddy gets his.” His glorious face slinked to your center, Joe feasting his eyes upon the one thing better than any trophy football had to offer.

The man simply chowed. Engulfed his greedy tongue with your every ounce of flavor, lapping away until you became almost tender to his touch.

Arising from the blissful wreckage he’d left your mound, his lips pink with rash and slick, a sheen of your honey left in the small patch of beard he was trying out these days.

“As much as I’d love to drink you fucking dry, I need to be inside you.”

Agreeing with his wishes, you guided him to sit beneath you before he protested.

“Uh-uh. I’ve got to plow the absolute fuck out of you, beautiful. Lie down.”

Ever the eager beaver, you flattened your back to the rough turf, but changed your mind in a brief instance, and positioned on all fours, peeking over your shoulder with a welcomed glint in your eye.

“Plow away, champ.” The cool air introduced itself to the dampness trickling down your thighs before Joe caught one last treat on his thumb.

“Don’t have to fucking ask me twice.”

With no need to ready himself, Joey worked his thick cock inside of you. Inch by inch by inch. By inch…

You could feel the burn of abrasive turf burning the flesh of your knees as Joe bucked & rutted you ruthlessly back in forth. He tattooed the flesh of your bare bottom with his substantial, callused hand before leaning to find the shell of your ear.

“Wanna bet I can make you say it?”

Your mind, fuck-dazed & foggy delayed a moment in comprehending his proposition.

“Bring. It… Burrow,” you dared between broken moans.

He snaked to find your swollen, soft flower, very well acquainted as every inch of your flesh belonged to him. He tickled your clit, fingers calculated, indulging himself with a pert bit to your ribs, not daring leave a blemish on your milky skin. Your vision turned black but you blinked back the eruption, drawing blood from your tongue to stifle back the very words he was holding you ransom for. But, oh, how the mighty fall, and you burst with admonitions only Joe would ever hear.

“King. Of the fucking. North.” Your orgasm blasted through every cell of your body salaciously.

Knowing there was no willpower left for Joe to muster after finally hearing those damn words fall from your near drooling lips, you pushed your hips back into him, matching his every thrust, insatiable for the friction of his bulge.

“King of the fucking North, baby.” He consented as he emptied himself inside your gripping lips.

He eased you over, assisting in wrapping your hips back into your bottoms, a hellish, sexy smile relentless on display.

“Try not to look so satisfied, you little shit.”

“Oh, come on. I’m sorry. Now, let’s get your fine ass home to celebrate.” Joe cradled you in his broad arms.

“Wait. I thought we just did that?”

“Oh; we did. But, that was for the game. This’ll be a celebration for you agreeing to be my hot shit wife.”

The appetite on this one…

#fanfic #joe burrow #joe burrow fanfiction #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow fan fic #nfl fan fic #joe burrow oneshot #fluffy hair #so hot 🔥🔥🔥#i’m deceased #yes ma'am 🫡#☠️

249 notes · View notes

nainablabla · 2 years ago

Text

After Hours

I’m sooo new to this JB fanfic world! Go easy on me 😎 Someone planted this little seed, so I obliged. Some smutty, smut, smut, so enjoy yourself. You’ve been warned 🫠

Preseason was a plethora of emotions for you. The anticipation of the impending season and the ring it may deliver for your guy was the indescribable high it brought. But, you couldn’t help but feel the heavy dread of Joe’s time with you slipping away once more as the month of May arrived.

Off season for him was coincidentally your slowest time of year at work as well, which meant the two of you were attached at the hip. Actually, more so attached in other places. Much more fun, satisfying places

Joe had fallen into the grind and sway of mini camp earlier last week, and you’d already seen so much less of that beach tanned face than you would ever prefer. A spring event you were knee deep in planning for a new business downtown had your attention on lockdown into the late evening hours, usually after Joe had been in bed for a while upon your arrival home. The ebb and flow of responsibility wearing out it’s welcome in your relationship.

Lucky for you, you had some pull with one very valuable QB, who could snag you some VIP access, & he had planned you join him at the facility for your cardio after work, rather than the 24-hour gym you typically attended alone 4 times a week.

You’d changed in your office as the sun dozed off into the night, & were about to take a left into the stadium lot when your phone chimed.

J: Let me know when you’re here. I’ll come walk you up.

Most spaces were empty as majority of the team had turned in for the night, but occasionally Joe liked to hang around late and get an ice bath in after the heat of his day.

You slung your car into park, gathering your keys and such, and waited for Joe to arrive at your beckoning.

Just as you’d opened the door of your white SUV he’d come gliding out the double doors of the tunnel. Still clad in the sticky residue of a sweaty afternoon, his tussled curls bounced from under the confines of a black headband. The thin coverings of a nearly painted on sleeveless shirt left little to your already soaring imagination as he patiently approached you with a lazy half smile.

“There she is.” He cooed, snaking a wide, sinewy forearm around your waist.

You met his eager kiss, sneaking a salty taste of his top lip between your teeth briefly.

“Let’s get this show on the road, Burrow. I have plans for you when we get home.”

Joe raised his groomed eyebrows in curious intrigue, nodding his head as he intertwined his fingers with yours to escort you inside.

The lights of the hallways had been switched off, the glow of an office here and there lighting the way towards the weight room. Once you’d twisted and turned through the doorways of the locker room and PT areas, Joe let loose of your hand to gesture toward his polar plunge.

“ I lifted while the guys were still here but Ja’Marr and I moved the bike in here for you so we could be closer.”

As he explained, he nonchalantly eliminated the cover of his spandex shirt, the lines of his back showing off in full view.

This man is actually going to have the audacity to outright strip himself like there’s nothing to it.

You played his coy game, realizing if you didn’t, there was no way you’d be able to keep your grubby paws off of him until the two of you reached home.

Slinging a leg over the seat of the exercise bike, you shifted comfortably & moved to pop a headphone into one ear for some background music.

“I can play something through the speakers, babe.” Joe mentioned, dragging your attention to his bear naked frame about to slink into the sea of slush.

His breath hitched, but only momentarily as he disappeared below the beck into the tub, still leaving you a view of his broad biceps laid over sides of his bath.

Smiling, still baffled at his calm, collective behavior, you nodded. “Only if you promise to play things I like too, stereo hog.”

He reached for his phone, poking at the screen behind quizzical brows just as H.E.R echoed faintly through the concrete walls.

You’d already began to pedal, a sheen of liquid collecting on your chest beneath a white tank top. Joe would ask a brief question about dinner, and you’d inquire how camp was going, catching up on each other as the moments passed.

Your focus lie far, far away from anything other than him.

The racket of ice chattered off the sides of the metal tub as he’d shift his apparently sore knees beneath the water, causing him to stretch his thick neck from side to side. A board hand combing back the stray waves ticking his forehead, water from his bath dampened the knotted locks.

Your breaths were hitching with the heaviest rise and fall watching him, the motion of your speedy pedaling easier on you than the sight of him.

“Slow down, baby. You’re not gonna be able to walk outta here.” Joe chuckled, oblivious to the fact that your workout had nothing to do with your panicked pace.

Reaching for a towel, he revealed himself from beneath the water, arising from the pool like statuesque sex. Eyes down as he tied the towel around his hips, not hurriedly, assuring you catch the perfect glimpse of his gifted manhood, he then looked up, bottom lip biting back his arrogant, knowing smile. He winked toward you.

Your movements, and possibly even your breaths, ceased at the sight. Aches all unrelated to the exercise bicycle tore through your core viciously, undoubtedly giving away your want for him.

“Is anyone here?” You simply asked him.

Stepping out onto the floor, he matter of factly marched toward the locker room before picking up his phone.

“Nope.” He answered as he lifted you from atop the seat.

Your legs instantly tightened around his muscled stomach as he carried you with a purpose you were all too readily aware of.

The fluorescent lights of the carpeted room reflected off the wetness of both your bodies as Joe tongued his way inside your mouth, lowering your unsteady legs to the floor.

“Sit here.” He bossed, placing you on a chair directly in front of his name marked locker.

“You’re up to something,” you breathily remarked and he pulled off you shoes, then your leggings, nearly growling to find nothing underneath.

“You better fucking believe I am,” he boldly admitted. “Take off that damn bra.”

Like the law abiding citizen you were, you obeyed without second thought, although curious why he was stepping away from you.

Planting his still towel clad body a few feet in front of you, he lifted his phone to point in your direction.

“Look above your head,” Joe directed so you would turn to see his name plate just over top of you. “Now, touch yourself for me.”

Confusion, however still arousal, swarmed you for a mere second before you connected the dots.

Joe wanted this memory forever. You, naked and flushed with overwhelming heat, pleasuring yourself in front of his locker, his name marker above you like a little gift tag. The success of his dreams come true, and his most prized asset all in one photo. Not to mention there wasn’t anything sexier to him than you being turned on by the colossal badass he was on the field.

You obliged with full commitment, not daring ruin this fantasy for him. As if you’d had to pretend to begin with…

You steadied yourself, legs spread wide, your neck fell back in a heavy daze as you touched between your thighs. Twinges of an anticipated release wasted no time trying to overcome you, almost seconds after you’d began. The excited and unfamiliar adventure of the moment almost too much to bear.

“Enough is enough.” Joe croaked with a scratchy throat. “I’m fucking taking you.”

Before you could protest, (as if you would) he was on his knees feasting and worshipping at the gap of your thighs like a man crazed. You tugged at his hair, latching a leg around his neck to steady yourself for his attack but there was no dignity left between the two of you. Screams of passion and groans of a starving man bounced off your ear drums, sounds you thought you may be arrested for had anyone witnessed.

“I could die one happy fucking man right now, princess. Such a good girl doing what daddy says.”

Trying to resist the explosion you felt in your belly, simply trying to make the moment last, you held your breath. But the resistance had no chance against Joe. You shook from head to toe, squashing the near life out of his handsome face as you clenched in release around him.

Barely taking a second to let him recover from snack time, you swiftly tugged him to the seat now slick with your sticky sweetness & mounted his wide lap with giddy readiness.

You knew better than to slid onto him without slow preparation, but the fire inside you spread like a ruthless flame & you couldn’t take the time for forms of restraint. Joe laid his palm on your panting throat, his thumb bitten between your hard bite. He never took the blown pupils of his eyes off of you as you frantically rode his solid member. Joe’s tongue grazed the love of your ear, the labored exhales of your name encouraging you.

“This what you had in mind?” You whimpered, digging into his shoulder for leverage.

His worked palm’s grazed their way over every goosebump on your swaying body, their destination bound for the gentle shimmy of your plump cheeks. The way he molded into you was an indescribable bliss that your body had learned to crave more than any morsel of food known to man. The sensation of his meaty, toned core flexed under your clawed fingers, and he kissed his answer into your mouth.

“This is always what I have in mind, gorgeous. I never get tired of this soft little pussy.” He chuckled devilishly, his sexy smile only sending you farther over pleasures edge.

Your sudden, clenching jolts, taunting Joe inside of you, and you saw the familiar furrow of his brow that meant he was shamelessly losing himself to your feminine sway.

Tilting your heads back in united ecstasy, the pair of you rode of the finishings, headed skin electric against one another.

“We should make a habit of this,” Joe traced small lines on the small of your back, peppering you with thoughtful kisses. He was proud of himself, cheeky son of a bitch.

He helped you get dressed before clothing himself, escorting you go your car, flirting like a teenager the whole way, his arm snug around your shoulders.

“We still have to shower when we get home..” He reminded.

Maybe the seasons beginning wouldn’t be so bad after all.

#joe burrow #fanfic #joe burrow fan fic #fanction #joseph lee burrow #joe burrow imagine #oneshot #joe burrow fanfiction

367 notes · View notes