joeyburrrow

[joeyburrrow]

coffee or tea || early bird or night owl || sandalwood or lemongrass || spring or fall || silver or gold || pop or alternative || freckles or dimples || snakes or spiders || mountains or fields || thunder or lightning || norse mythology or greek mythology || green or red || flute or guitar || ruby or diamond || butterflies or honeybees || cake or cookies || typewritten or handwritten || secret garden or secret library || rooftop or balcony || spicy or mild || concert or theater || london or paris || van gogh or monet || petrichor or sea salt || denim or leather || chatter or music || forest or desert || dragons or unicorns || masquerade ball or yuletide party || violence or heartbreak || hugs or kisses || bergamot or lilac

omg this was so cute, i'm tagging:

@starsinthesky5 @joeyb1989 and @yelenasbraid

no pressure tho 🥰

୨ৎ ― thank you for the tag - @bvrnesher

coffee or tea || early bird or night owl || sandalwood or lemongrass || spring or fall || silver or gold || pop or alternative || freckles or dimples || snakes or spiders || mountains or fields || thunder or lightning || norse mythology or greek mythology || green or red || flute or guitar || ruby or diamond || butterflies or honeybees || cake or cookies || typewritten or handwritten || secret garden or secret library || rooftop or balcony || spicy or mild || concert or theater || london or paris || van gogh or monet || petrichor or sea salt || denim or leather || chatter or music || forest or desert || dragons or unicorns || masquerade ball or yuletide party || violence or heartbreak || hugs or kisses || bergamot or lilac

୨ৎ ― tags - @the-bo1ter @mysummerchild @auntiejohn @whoo0sh @jjsblueberry @xoxoivy13 @luvrism777 @sophiaurora + anyone else!

[joeyburrrow]

*whispers*

maja guess whattt

I LOVE YOUUU💕💕

well guess what bestie

I LOVE YOU TOO SO SO SO MUCH ❤️

[joeyburrrow]

cowboy like me - taylor swift

[joeyburrrow]

MAJAAAAA BEAUTIFUL

I LOVE YOU AND I LOVE OUR FRIENDSHIP

I hope you’re doing well and doing amazing things 💖💖

MANDA MY GIRL 🥹🥹❤️

ILY SO SO SO MUCH AND IM SO HAPPY TO HAVE YOU AS MY FRIEND 🥹💖

i missed you so much sorry ive been gone 😭😭😭

i hope you're well my love, im sending you the biggest hug ever 💖

[joeyburrrow]

MAJA my loveeeee

i just wanted to let you know that i love you SO MUCH and i appreciate our friendship so so much🥰🥰

LIV MY BABY 🥹🥹❤️ i love you so much and im so so so grateful to have you in my life 🥹🥹💖

you're my bestie for real <333333

[joeyburrrow]

his face...same 😂

Minicamp presser June 10, 2025

[joeyburrrow]

“Here I am”😭

[joeyburrrow]

songbird and I are having unholy thoughts about this headband rn. ijk he put it on this morning to eat her out and just walked out with it on 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

a/n: I FORGOT TO POST THIS

warnings: smut, munch joe

───────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───────

he pulled it on that morning like it was just part of his routine—no fuss, no mirror, just a quick push of curls back from his face and a flash of something dangerous in his eyes. it was her version of his signature bengals headband. the one she left in the bathroom. soft and a little too snug, with the team logo stitched at the front like a stamp of ownership. and he looked so unbothered in it, so casual, but she knew. she knew the second he adjusted it with both hands, glanced her way, and sank to his knees at the foot of the bed.

he didn’t say anything. didn’t need to. just hooked his arms around her thighs and dragged her down to the edge like he had all day to worship her. and maybe he did—because he went slow. thorough. tongue and lips and fingers working in sync like muscle memory, like he’d been dreaming about this since he opened his eyes. the headband kept his hair off his face but did nothing to hide the mess he was making. she could feel it—his stubble catching just slightly against the soft skin of her thighs, the hot drag of his tongue between her legs, the open-mouthed moans he made as he mouthed at her like she was a meal he hadn’t earned in weeks.

he kept her open with both hands, thumbs pressing deep into her thighs like he needed to anchor himself there. his jaw flexed under the burn of stubble and tension, and every time he sucked her clit between his lips, she swore the earth tilted. her back arched. her fingers tangled in his curls—gripping, anchoring, pleading—and still he didn’t stop. the headband shifted slightly with each movement, curling with sweat at the edges, but he didn’t care. he kept going. slow, greedy, thorough. like he was starving. like nothing else existed but the sound of her falling apart.

her breath hitched when he moaned into her, deep and low, like her taste ruined him, and her whole body tightened in response. her thighs trembled around his head, but he held her steady. one arm curled under her knee, the other gripping her hip like a lifeline. his tongue moved in lazy circles, relentless in its rhythm, and when she came, it was with a sobbed version of his name that cracked in the center. he didn’t stop then, either. just eased her through it with gentle, sweet licks, brushing his mouth over her like he was saying goodnight.

and then, with a final kiss to the inside of her thigh, he pulled back. his jaw was slick. the headband was crooked. and she was wrecked. boneless on the sheets, trembling and silent. he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, stood up, and strolled out of the room like nothing had happened.

into the kitchen. shirtless. calm. still in the fucking headband.

and when she stumbled after him a few minutes later, wearing nothing but his hoodie and the aftermath of his mouth, he looked over his shoulder, cracked an egg into the skillet, and said, with maddening ease,

“you want breakfast?”.

as if he didn’t still taste like her.

as if she hadn’t just seen heaven.

as if she wasn’t ready to drop to her knees and beg for round two.

[joeyburrrow]

Mini camp Joe

[joeyburrrow]

i dont think i'm gonna survive this season

hi pretty boy

[joeyburrrow]

All the swaying is to keep his personal bubble in tact!

[joeyburrrow]

arch i literally ran to your inbox.

i need to know songbird’s reaction to the videos of joe from today 😏😏

a/n: hi livvvv :)))) im spiraling hard right now yall

warnings: idek like it's soooo wfniwnfuwjenf. mentions of nsfw? bring a fan because it's hot in this bitch

───────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───────

she wasn’t even planning to go on instagram. she was supposed to be writing—lyrics half-scribbled in her journal, pen tucked between her fingers, hoodie sleeves pulled down past her palms. the kettle whistled in the kitchen. lavender steam rising. her favorite instrumental music playlist hummed low in the background.

and then, her phone buzzed.

“9️⃣'s in the chat.”

she didn’t even mean to click it, but the second she saw the thumbnail...his number, bold and familiar across his chest, she forgot the tea boiling on the stove. forgot the lyrics. forgot her own name for a second

the video started. and there he was.

her whole body reacted—heat blooming low and slow, blooming like a match-catching cotton. her breath caught somewhere near her throat. the screen glowed in her hands, and he looked unreal. like some greek myth dressed in tight white pants and sharp black jersey, curls tucked under a bengals headband, jaw set like he’d been carved out of something ancient and dangerous.

and then he moved.

not even dramatic. just that quiet, cocky shift of his hands to his collar, tugging it a little like he needed air. like he knew she was watching. like he was holding back a smirk just for her.

her thighs clenched. her stomach fluttered like a drumbeat stuttering onstage. she could feel her skin warming under her clothes. her heart was beating too fast, each thud echoing in her ribs like the kick drum of a sold-out arena.

“fuck me,” she breathed. voice barely audible. lips parted in awe of the man on her screen.

and then the wide shot. full body. those long legs planted, thighs unforgivable in white pants. arms flexed, fingertips dancing lightly on his hips like he knew what he was doing. the tilt of his helmet, the stance, the mouth parted like he’d just sighed—like he was thinking something he wasn’t saying.

she had to bite her lip, there was no way she was surviving this.

her fingers trembled as she hit replay. again. and again. she could hear the blood rushing in her ears. the soft hum of her music had faded to nothing—replaced by the sharp heat curling up her spine like lightning with no storm to land in.

her hand drifted down to her thigh, gripping, grounding herself. she didn’t even realize she was whispering again. “joey, what the hell are you doing to me…,”.

because it was him. her boy. the softest man she knew. the one who let her put plush headbands in his hair and sat still for face masks and burned toast every time he tried to make breakfast—now looking like this. like sex and steel and ownership all wrapped into one tight no. 9 jersey.

she texted him with fingers still shaky, you’re getting tackled the second you walk through the door. and i’m not wearing pads like your boys do.

then, after a pause, that video? it should be illegal. i’ve watched it six times and i’m sweating. you’re mine. everyone else can look but i’m the one who gets to bite.

the kettle screamed in the kitchen behind her, but the only heat she cared about was the one rolling through her chest, simmering between her legs—sharp, liquid, dangerous. it wasn’t soft or slow anymore. it surged, seethed, crawled up her spine like a live wire with no safe place to ground, no exit wound. just heat, rising, desperate to consume her from the inside out.

her breath hitched. her mouth, parched. tongue pressed to the roof of it, trying to cool down a flame she couldn’t name. her skin buzzed, too hot to sit still, too bare under the worn cotton of his hoodie. her nipples strained against the fabric, every inch of her hyperaware, aching. and her thighs? they moved without her consent—rubbing, grinding, that subtle, maddening friction she knew wouldn’t be enough. instinctual. involuntary. a pulse flaring behind her navel that no amount of squirming would soothe.

because god, he looked...touchable. biteable. spreadable. like a sin she’d happily beg forgiveness for.

those stupid white pants clung like a second skin, stitched with sorcery. every muscle mapped in high-def. every sharp line and heavy curve of his thighs perfectly caged by the fabric. they demanded attention—taunting her with memories of how they’d felt bracketing her hips, tensing between hers, caging her against every hard surface in the house.

and his jersey? it hung just right, broad across the chest, tight on the biceps, the collar loose enough to make her insane when he tugged it like that. that deliberate grip, fingers dragging against his throat, just enough to tease. just enough to mimic her touch, the one she knew he craved when his nights stretched too long and his hands weren’t busy enough.

the camera caught him mid-smirk. half-lidded. heat in his eyes like he’d just finished dragging someone out of bed and leaving them there, boneless and ruined. like he knew what he did to her. like he liked it.

she felt dizzy. a flush bloomed high on her cheeks, down her neck, between her breasts—everywhere. ruined from a 30-second clip. 720p and it still hit like a freight train.

his forearms flexed in the light, strength and shadow and skin she knew too well. the veins trailed like roadmap lines she used to guide her mouth when she kissed her way up his arm. his wrists were wrapped, just like on game day, but all she could think about was the way her fingers locked around them. bracing. anchoring. when he pushed deep and slow and filthy inside her.

and his thighs. fuck, those thighs.

they spread just slightly, a stance he knew she noticed. the cocky tilt of his hips, the heavy tension sitting perfectly in those pants. a silent challenge. a promise.

you know what i do with these. you know what i’m capable of.

and god help her, she did. every inch of him was muscle memory. every movement a trigger. and her body? already begging for a game that hadn’t even started.

[joeyburrrow]

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Cincinnati Bengals (@bengals)

Holy 😍

[joeyburrrow]

THE HEIGHT. THE SIZE.

📸 (c): Louie G

[joeyburrrow]

maja my love, my fav, my queeennn!! ilysm bestie and im so thankful for you everydayyyyy! thank you for always being you and for being the tay to my sel 🥰

archianaaaaa my love 🥹🥹🥹

thank you for being my friend and for being such a wonderful person 🥰❤️ (i was gonna call u a ray of sunshine but ik your scorpio ass would hate that)

ily sosososo muuuuch and you're forever the sel to my tay 🩷

[joeyburrrow]

that new joe vid.... HELLO

[joeyburrrow]

UHM... HOLY SHIT?

JOE BURROW — miss possessive

summary — She gets a tiny ‘J’ tattooed on her hip. Joe finds out, and he makes sure she knows how he feels about it.

warnings — fem!reader, fluff, SMUTTTTT (MDNI)

requested by — anon! (this took me so long I’m so sorry)

tags — @willowsnook @wickedfun9 @burrowdarling @starsinthesky5 @hannahjessica113 @irishmanwhore @hotburreaux @joeyburrrow @joeyfranchise @joeyb1989 @joecoolburrow @sportyphile @kazsbrckkers @ebsmind @iosivb9 @softburrow @blairsworld22

THE MORNING WAS GREY. Rain pattered on the roof, the dull rattles echoing through the home. Despite the dreary weather, the lovers in the bedroom were tangled up with sheets. The warmth from the blankets shielded them from the coolness of the room.

He was the first to wake. He stirred, the whisper of the sheets under him signaling his consciousness. Joe grunted softly as he rolled on his stomach, stretching his sleep-taut arms under his pillow. His eyes peeled open, a deep sigh rolling over his chest.

She was still asleep, her body turned away from him. The covers slipped over her hips, her skin glowing even in the grey of the morning. Joe admired her for a moment, the peace of her breathing and the tranquility of her presence. How lucky was he to have her in his life?

Joe reached a hand out, gently tracing the spine of her back. His touch was light, admiring how her skin felt under the pads of his fingers. It wasn’t a possessive or sexual touch, instead it was a gentle and loving caress. His hand slowly slid over her body, following the curve of her hip and her thigh. He inched himself closer, lifting a corner of her shirt to press a gentle kiss to her side.

It was then she stirred. Small, soft grunts left her lips as sleep cleared from her head. She hummed as she felt Joe’s lips against her skin, keeping her eyes closed.

“Good morning,” Joe hummed, the husk of his voice sending shivers down her spine. She shifted, her shirt riding up to reveal her black, lace panties. The light of the room also caught something else.

“Morning,” she grunted, rolling onto her stomach. Joe was curious now, and he gently guided her back onto her back. She held a curious look, her brow furrowed as Joe’s fingers peeled back some of the lace of her panties.

“What do we have here?” he asked. He was propped up on an elbow, his thumb rolling over a capital, cursive ‘J’ that was inked into her hip. It was a dainty thing, small and simple, but it sent Joe’s mind spiraling.

“You like it?” she asked. Joe flicked his blue eyes to meet hers, a fire igniting deep within his chest. A buzz filled his ears, possession taking over him. His body tensed and ached; he felt the very need for her down in his bones.

“I love it,” he hummed, leaning down and pressing a possessive kiss to the tattoo. The room was quiet, but it was thick with tension. His lips were plush, soft with his kisses but hot with his passion. His fingers gently peeled her panties off of her hips, adjusting himself so he was between her legs.

“What inspired you to get a tattoo like that?” He asked, settling his hands on her hips, “thought you said it was too big a commitment,”

“We’ve been dating for three years, Joe,” she hummed, “I think we’re committed,”

“Damn straight,” Joe agreed. He kissed right below her belly button. Her breath hitched, one of her hands threading through his thick, grown out curls. She felt the ache between her legs, the slick that built on her pussy, and the more she became exposed to him, the more she needed him.

Joe peeled her panties off of her body, slowly, her slick sticking to the crotch of her panties. His eyes never left hers, even as he lowered his head between her legs, her throbbing pussy right in front of him.

“My girl’s gone all possessive on me,” he purred, kissing the very outside of her pussy. He could taste her, and it sent electricity straight down to his core. She bit her lip, her body trembling with anticipation. His eyelashes tickled her skin, his nose bumping her sensitive clit as his tongue traced her folds.

“Fuck,” she moaned, her fingers tightening in his hair. His tongue flicked between her folds, taking his time. He wanted to savor her, wanted to show her just how much he loved that tattoo on her hip. His hands slid up her sides, holding her in place as his tongue delicately and expertly explored her pussy. Her taste was his favorite alcohol, and with every lick, he injected her into his veins. He wanted his blood to be riddled with her DNA.

Joe licked fatter strokes up her folds, collecting her slick and coating his throat with it. The salty, bitter taste of her arousal stuck to his throat, making him crave more of her. He nose bumped her clit, his desperation to have her fueling every flick of his tongue.

“Shit,” she breathed. Her body was on fire. Every whimper and moan that she pushed out of her throat made it more intense. Her body was trembling, aching with the sensation of his tongue against her folds. Her fingers ran through his hair, scratching against his scalp.

“Taste so good,” he murmured into her slick, his eyes meeting hers. His lips were buried deep into her pussy, his face lathered with her arousal. He teased her entrance with his tongue, the silk of her walls tempting him closer.

“Jesus,” she cursed, “Joe,” she moaned, her toes curling as he sucked at her pussy. One of his hands slid down her body, and he slid two digits into her entrance. She moaned, her body arching into the feeling of his thick fingers pumping in and out of her.

“You’re so beautiful,” he praised, his tongue moving to flick against her swollen clit, “and so fucking delicious,”

His fingers curled, pressing against the plushy spot behind her clit. He thrusted into it, his tongue still lapping at the juices that slid from her body. Her moans filled the air, tainting them with her pleasure. It was music to his ears, a sound he wanted tattooed on his brain.

She gripped his hair, her other hand fisting the sheets. She squirmed, the promise of an orgasm igniting a fire beneath her. Her body was his to command, it was his to taste. She shuddered, jaw slack, eyes rolled into the back of her head.

Then he removed his fingers, his lips leaving with it.

“Fucking hell, Joe,” she groaned. Her body throbbed, the buzz of her blood roaring in her ears. He crawled up her body, dipping his head into the crook of her neck. His lips pressed gentle kisses to her skin, tasting the sweat of her pleasure and the sweetness of her ecstasy.

“Wanna have you cum around my cock, sweetheart,” he murmured into her neck. She rolled her eyes, irritated that she was left unsatisfied. Her hips still twitched, wondering where the friction went. She was empty, her body pulsing, desperately needing something to latch onto.

Her body reacted before her mind did. The head of his cock, velvety and smooth, pressed into her slit. He thrusted, just the head, soft groans leaving his throat. She bit her lip, her pussy slicking as his tip slid in and out of her.

“Joe,” she bit out. She needed him to the hilt, she needed to feel his cock stretch her walls, she needed to feel him touch those places that only he could touch.

“You want all of me, baby?” He groaned. His hands held her hips, fingers pressing into her soft skin. He made sure that his fingers didn’t cover the dainty ‘J’ on her hip; he wanted to have that in full view.

“Yes,” she gasped, the slow and tantalizing thrusts of his hips making her stomach flutter.

He sat up, his eyes dark with his ravenous need. He thrusted the rest of himself into her, a soft groan leaving his lips. He left no room for adjustment, immediately pulling back. He slammed back into her, a moan leaving her pretty, parted lips.

“You wanted all of me baby,” he growled, his thrusts hard and fast, “you’re getting all of me,”

It was an out of body experience. His hands held her in place, his cock thrusted deep into her, but what kept her focused was his eyes. They held so much more than people let on. His softness, his excitement, anger even. In this moment, it held his hunger, the depth of his appreciation for the tiny tattoo she got a few days ago.

Her hands slid up to grasp his biceps, his muscles bulging under her touch. His curls fell loose with every thrust, soft grunts leaving his lips,

“Feel so good, baby,” she whimpered, struggling to keep her eyes peeled. His cock flinched inside of her, his hips adjusting to hit her from a different angle. Praise had always been his thing, his button. She pressed it, and he kicked it into another gear.

And every part of her felt it.

Her back arched into his empowered thrusts, his body coming to rest down on hers. His hands slid up her sides, holding her right under her ribs.

“You’re taking my cock so nicely, pretty girl,” he murmured into her ear, his teeth grazing her skin. Her hands moved to grasp at the muscles of his back, the pressure of an orgasm shaving away at her walls. She whimpered, holding herself closer. Her pussy clenched around him, her body squirming.

“Baby,”

“I know you’re close,” Joe muttered, kissing her under her ear, “can feel your pussy clench,”

Her stomach fluttered, convulsing around his strokes. Her nails bit into his back, his hips meeting her with fervent enthusiasm. She moaned, and when her orgasm finally hit her, her nails raked down his back.

“Yes, sweet girl,” Joe groaned into her ear, the wet feeling of her orgasm coating his cock. It didn’t take long for him to follow after her, filling her with the heat of his cum.

Their bodies tensed with the convulsion of their orgasms, soft whimpers filling the bedroom. Her toes curled into the mattress and his hips were firmly pressed against hers. She released a breath, her eyes watching as Joe came down from his own release.

“Shit,” she cursed, resting her back against the pillow. Joe pressed careful and tender kisses to her neck and shoulder, gently sliding out of her. He kept himself close, resting his forehead against hers. For a moment, the silence lingered. It covered them like a blanket, knitting them together with warmth.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, “and not just because you’re naked,”

“I know that,” she chuckled, her hands cupping either side of his neck. She could feel the beginnings of stubble on his jaw, her fingers gently running over it.

“Should I grow it out?” he asked her, a certain sparkle in his eyes.

“I think so,” she murmured, “I’ve always liked when you sport a 5 o’clock shadow,”

“Oh yeah?” He laughed, his smile brightening the room.

“Yeah,” she agreed, pushing a stray curl out of his face. He leaned down, tilting his head, and he captured her lips in a tender kiss. He sighed against her mouth, letting the softness of her kiss roll down his spine like warm water.

“I love you,” he murmured, “and I love that tattoo,”

“Clearly,” she teased. Even if it was a step of commitment, having some resemblance of him on her would make him unforgettable. She wanted to always remember him, and part of it was possessive. J was for Joseph.

“I should get a tramp stamp,” he mused, “your name across my lower back,”

“Oh my God,” she laughed, rolling her eyes at him, “please, for everyone’s sake, don’t do that,”

“What? You wouldn’t find it sexy?” he laughed, wiggling his eyebrows at her.

“Maybe Ja’Marr would,” you teased, earning a dumbfounded look from Joe. The warmth created from the teasing, from the laughs, it was what she really found picked up her broken pieces. He was always able to make her laugh, even after the most intense of moments.

“You’re no fun,” Joe pouted, sitting up, crossing his arms over his chest. Like a child, he pouted, his bottom lip stuck out for dramatic effect.

“You’re so dramatic,” she chuckled, her fingers dancing on his sides. His skin flinched, and she bit her lip. Joe didn’t go around saying he was ticklish, but she knew.

“Don’t you dare,” he warned with a shaky voice, making her grin spread even wider.

“I’m not doing anything,” she giggled, letting her fingers run wild along his sides. He tried to pry her fingers off, giggles erupting from the man above her. It was warm, healing almost. Even if his body erupted with electric currents, he longed for these moments.

He collapsed on top of her, making her groan. She kept her fingers at his sides, his giggles muffled by his face in her neck. She eventually stopped, her arms wrapping around his body. She pressed a kiss to the top of his head, her heart keeping a steady thrum under her chest.

Every part of him loved her. Every fiber of her being grew towards him. He was her sunlight, and she was his shade. They’d always be there to support each other in the ways they needed.