joeyburrrow

[joeyburrrow]

what other trips do they go on?

a/n: this has been swirling in my head since last night 🙂‍↕️

───────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───────

it’s no secret that joe used to be a bit of a hermit. content to stay tucked away at home, keeping to himself, his circle tight, his world small. he liked the quiet. the privacy. the comfort of routine and walls that kept curious eyes out. it wasn’t that he didn’t love life, he just preferred to live it quietly. out of the spotlight, off the grid. but then she came into his life like sunlight through the blinds, warm and undeniable, and something in him shifted.

she had this way of making the world feel a little less loud, a little less scary. with her hand in his, even the busiest cities felt like background noise. she got him out of the house, out of his own head, out into the world. and now they travel—not for show, not for headlines, but because it brings them closer. road trips through the middle of nowhere. late-night swims in oceans they’d never seen before. mornings in places where no one knows their names. she made him want to see the world, not just read about it. and somehow, with her beside him, it feels safe to do so.

here are a few examples of some of their ventures together:

lake house retreats: joe’s a midwestern boy through and through, so when the offseason hits and the world finally quiets down, they disappear to a secluded lake house tucked into the trees—just the two of them and the sound of water lapping against the dock. they pack light: oversized hoodies, sweatpants, flannels they share, and those matching sweatshirts she had made that say captain and first mate as a joke that made him roll his eyes and grin. phones off. fishing poles propped up at the edge of the dock. she curls up in an old foldable chair, reading while he fiddles with the grill, sneaking glances at her over his shoulder like he can’t believe she’s really his. later, they roast marshmallows and drink red wine in front of the firepit, bundled together under one blanket, her legs tangled with his, her fingers resting on his thigh while he plays with her rings absentmindedly. they sleep with the windows open and wake up to birds and soft light on the hardwood floor. it’s quiet. peaceful. just them.

euro summer: once the season ended, they vanished for a few weeks, ducking away from headlines and expectations and into a summer of gelato, linen, and golden hour kisses. they wandered cobbled streets in italy, got lost in coastal greek villages, and kissed under every string of lights they walked past in southern france. she wore breezy sundresses and carried a film camera; he wore linen button-downs and a backpack he always insisted on carrying for the both of them. they sipped aperol spritzes in the shade, people-watched in piazzas, and bought stupid little souvenirs they still laugh about now. they took trains, stayed in boutique hotels, and shared headphones on park benches like teenagers. they’d already hit paris and cannes for work things earlier that month, but this trip was just for them—messy hair, sunburned noses, and love notes scribbled in the back of receipts she tucked into her journal.

napa valley/wine country: this one started with her. he wasn’t really a wine guy—until she was curled up beside him one night, sipping a glass and explaining the difference between earthy and fruity notes, cheeks warm, eyes sparkling. now? he books the reservations himself. they’ll escape to napa or sonoma for long weekends where she wears flowy skirts and he wears his best button-ups because she told him wine country deserves a little effort. they giggle through tastings, take blurry selfies in vineyards, and walk back to their room arm in arm, tipsy and giddy. she ends up drunk off two glasses, red-stained lips and nose scrunchy giggles, and he buys bottles based on labels with butterflies or fonts she likes. he’s got no clue what he’s doing. just that she’s happy, and that’s enough.

homey road trips: sometimes, they just need to drive. no cameras, no flights, no screens. just her singing off-key on purpose to make him laugh, joe’s hand on her thigh, and miles of open road. they’ve road-tripped to her hometown, to florida, even down to mississippi to see his extended family. she DJs with aggressive control of the aux, feeding him gas station snacks and narrating billboards in ridiculous accents. he smiles so much his cheeks ache. they stop at diners, antique shops, and scenic overlooks just because they feel like it. they take polaroids at every gas station and kiss behind trees like teenagers. it’s on these long drives—when she’s barefoot on the dashboard and the sun’s hitting her just right—that joe swears he’s seconds away from pulling over and proposing...even without an actual ring. these are the days that feel like forever.

beach getaways: they’ve got a weakness for the ocean. hawaii, the bahamas, the maldives—it doesn’t matter where, as long as the water’s warm and the sun’s high. she lives in his old t-shirts over bikinis, and he never lets her walk anywhere without his arm around her waist. they swim together in the mornings, her legs wrapped around his waist, kisses traded in the waves like secrets. afternoons are naps in the shade, skin sticky with sunscreen and sea salt. he braids her hair after she swims, surprisingly gentle with his fingers, while she lays in his lap with her eyes closed. at night, they walk the shoreline barefoot, watching the stars and whispering things they’re too shy to say in daylight. they come back with tan lines and new freckles, but more than anything, with memories that feel like dreams. salty, golden, and impossibly sweet.

destin, florida (the bye week getaway flashback from chapter two): last october during joe’s bye week, they escaped to destin. just the two of them, off the grid. it was quiet, warm, and slow in the best way. they stayed in a beachfront rental where she walked around barefoot in his old college tees, and he grilled them dinner while she danced around the kitchen. mornings were spent with her legs thrown over his lap on the balcony, sipping coffee. afternoons meant long swims, reading together under an umbrella, and him tracing shapes into her sunscreened back. nights brought card games, shared playlists, and kisses salty from the sea. it was the kind of trip that made them talk about the future like it was already here.

ibiza: their ibiza trip was a dream. equal parts chaos and closeness. they went with his ohio state friendgroup, but always found themselves sneaking off just the two of them, ducking into cafes or walking hand in hand down white stone alleys. she wore sparkly beach coverups and sunglasses bigger than her face, and he wore open button-downs and his bucket hat, watching her like the sun rose just for her. nights meant dancing till sunrise, his hands on her hips in crowded clubs, her laugh echoing in his ear. they made out like teenagers in the hotel hallway. it was wild, electric, and so full of them.

[joeyburrrow]

Hello?!

In NYC for Bodyarmor

[joeyburrrow]

wow

Prince Charming😍

[joeyburrrow]

oh my god????

i need to bounce on it

[joeyburrrow]

and when he brings this hair back? then what

[joeyburrrow]

ok so like how often does songbird get manhandled? (please tell me thwt made sense)

───────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───────

frequently.

buttttt...respectfully, lovingly, and often without warning.

joe’s so gentle with her emotionally, but physically? he cannot help himself. he’s so in love with her, and he’s huge, and she’s his girl so of course he’s gonna throw her around a little.

some common moments of manhandling 😋 :

picking her up mid-argument to stop her pacing and force a calm cuddle. she’s ranting, pacing the living room, and he just scoops her up, drops onto the couch with her in his lap, and holds her there until she cools off.

guiding her around with a big hand at the small of her back, or a light grip on her waist/hip. “babe, this way,”.

flipping her over in bed like she weighs nothing. she giggles every time. he acts like he’s not proud of himself but he definitely is.

grabbing her by the thighs to pull her into his lap. especially when she’s teasing him or being a brat. he just tugs her forward and says, “say that again,”.

lifting her up to sit on counters, cars, kitchen tables. he does it without a second thought. she loves the way he never asks, just knows when she needs to be closer.

carrying her to bed when she falls asleep on the couch. even if she insists she can walk. “no you can’t, sweetheart, you’re dead weight. just let me,”.

the classic, throwing her over his shoulder like a caveman when she’s being difficult. he's half-joking, but he holds her like that for a little too long every time.

after a long trip or a big time win, he’s ravenous. tosses her onto the bed like she’s weightless, knees pressed wide open, and tears his shirt off like he can’t get undressed fast enough, “been thinking about this all damn day,”.  when he’s feeling especially rough, he grabs her by the jaw, not harsh but commanding, and makes her look at him while he fills her. doesn’t let her look away even when she’s overwhelmed.

he’s got those quarterback hands, too. big enough to wrap around her thighs, her waist, the back of her neck. and he always uses them. not always sexual. sometimes it’s just the quiet, possessive way he tugs her closer, or rests one hand heavy on her hip while she’s talking to someone else.

and she loves it. every second. it makes her feel small, claimed, loved. every time he does it, she melts a little. especially when it’s not in the bedroom. just everyday softness wrapped in subtle manhandling.

[joeyburrrow]

I’m with you on Pro Bowl Joey. The hair was hairing. The skin was skinning. The eyes were blueing. Perfect 👌🏻

it's one of his top 5 looks in my opinion

​and knowing he only pulled up to get tee and marr their extensions makes him even hotter

[joeyburrrow]

maja!! you’re new theme is so cute i love it 🫶🏼🥹

(i hope it’s new or i’ll feel stupid)

oh my god thank you 🥹🤧😭😭

IT IS new!!!! thank you for noticing 🥹🥹🫶🏻

ilysm 💕

[joeyburrrow]

tbh i'm still here mentally...

[joeyburrrow]

HELLO??? HE LOOKS SO GOOD

STOP AASJDKFLDJD

This is so hawt for no reason

[joeyburrrow]

look at my mother in law slaying 😭😭😭😭

Joe’s mom teaches us to make Snickers salad

[joeyburrrow]

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Cincinnati Bengals (@bengals)

🧡🖤🐯🏈

[joeyburrrow]

The real question is. Has Joe THOUGHT about proposing to songbird 😛. We know they’re nearing their one year but you know how it goes. When you know you know (to quote lana del rey)

───────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───────

there isn't a day that goes by where joe isn't thinking about asking her to marry him. sometimes it was fleeting, a quick thought when she was laughing across the room, or when she curled up against him at night, fitting into his side like she was made to be there. sometimes it was heavier, a deep, aching kind of certainty that settled in his chest and stayed there, beating along with his heart.

july 31st was coming up....one year. a full year since they fell into each other’s lives like it had been written somewhere long before either of them even knew. and yeah, joe knew what people might say. it’s only been a year. you’re still in the honeymoon phase. you have all the time in the world.

but to him, a year wasn’t only anything. it was everything. it was enough mornings waking up with her curled into his chest, enough nights falling asleep to the sound of her voice, enough quiet afternoons spent doing nothing at all but still somehow making memories that would stay with him forever. it had been enough to realize what he wanted, what he’d been looking for without even knowing it.

it wasn’t even about the milestones. it wasn’t about the timeline or what anyone else might’ve thought—it was just them. her. only her. always her. it was the way she looked at him like he was the only thing that mattered, that he was the only thing that made sense in her life, the way she softened in his arms like she’d found home. the way she laughed when he was being stupid, the way she believed in him when he was doubting himself. the way her hand always found his without even thinking.

he’d never felt like this before. not even close. not even when he thought he had. because with her, everything was different—easy and bright and so alive he sometimes couldn’t believe it was real. she loved him like she already knew every broken, battered part of him and chose him anyway. he loved her like breathing: natural, necessary, something he couldn’t live without.

they were the definition of when you know, you know. no second guessing. no overthinking. just certainty, deep in his bones.

he caught himself thinking about it all the time (just like she was constantly day dreaming about their wedding) when she was humming under her breath while baking something, or tying her hair up messily on the couch, or singing to him in that soft, absentminded way she did when she thought he wasn’t really paying attention. he thought about it when she wore his clothes, when she cradled his face in her hands like he was something precious, when she held his hand while he drove and rubbed her thumb over his knuckles.

he thought about it every time she smiled at him like he was her whole world, because she didn’t even realize she was his.

he hadn’t bought a ring yet, but he’d looked. god, he’d looked even when he didn't really mean to. and sometimes, when the timing felt so perfect it almost hurt, he caught himself reaching for the pocket that wasn’t full yet. imagining it. her face. her tears. her hands shaking when she said yes. the life they’d build together, forever, because nothing had ever felt more right than her.

when you know, you know. and joe burrow knew. he’d never been more sure of anything in his life.

one year had been enough to understand that nothing he’d ever felt before compared to the way she made him feel, steady, seen, whole. enough to know that he wanted her by his side, through every season, every step in his career, every messy, beautiful moment life had to offer.

he didn’t want her just for a few more years. not just for the good times, or the highlight reels. he wanted her till the day he died. wanted to grow old with her, to see her laugh lines deepen, to hold her hand through every heartbreak and every triumph, to be hers in every possible way.

he looked at her sometimes, sitting there in the passenger seat of his car, hair whipping around in the breeze from the open window, swallowed up in his old athens high school hoodie, laughing like the joker at something dumb he said about how fish can’t drown, they can only suffocate if they stop moving and the water stops passing over their gills, and it hit him all over again, sharp and sudden, like a freight train to the chest.

it’s you. it’s always been you. and god, i can’t believe it took this long to find you.

one year. not nearly enough time to love her the way he wanted to. but the perfect beginning to the rest of their lives.

one day soon, he promised himself. one day soon, he’d ask her to be his for good. and she’d say yes he knew it, deep down where it mattered most. because whatever invisible thread tied them together, whatever magic had pulled her into his life, it was stronger than anything he’d ever known.

a lifetime still wouldn’t be enough for her. but he was damn sure gonna try.

[joeyburrrow]

they are so sweet I SWEAR TO GOD IF THEY DONT END UP TOGETHER

u might not be able to answer this since labyrinth isn’t done, but what was the moment that justin realized he fell for reader back in high school?

i was actually gonna include this in labyrinth pt 3 but it got too long so i had to cut it, and since it has no spoilers i actually can do this :)

Justin fell in love with her slowly, in the way that he didn't even realize what was happening until it was too late. He'd had a crush on her as long as he'd known her, but when they became friends and started hanging out often, those feelings quickly grew.

He knew he was in love one Wednesday night after practice. His muscles ached and all he wanted to do was feel his head hit the pillow and mind drift away, but like most teenagers, he had homework to do.

Truth be told, he didn't need much help with it and had all but mastered balancing school and sports, but when Y/N offered to help if he ever needed it, he couldn't find it within himself to tell the truth and turn her down.

So instead of getting ready for bed, he sat on the floor of his bedroom, his physics homework in hand, doing the best to keep his eyes open. She was sitting on his bed, legs crossed, trying to explain something to him, but everything was going in one ear and out the other. And really, he didn't need any of the help. He just wanted her there.

They spoke in hushed voices, since it was getting late, despite everyone in the Herbert household still being awake. Justin's door was ever so slightly ajar, his dad had made sure of it when he left the teenagers alone, and they didn't want their voices to carry out into the hall.

"Justin?" she suddenly asked, and he blinked rapidly, trying to come to. "You okay?"

"Yeah," he sighed. "Just a little tired."

She nodded in response, empathetic eyes looking down at him with a gentle smile. "I can go home if you'd rather–"

"No, don't," he said far less eloquently than he'd hoped, nearly cringing at his own social clumsiness. "I'm alright. I just want to get this done."

For a moment she was quiet, before scooting over on his bed and patting the empty spot beside her. His eyes went wide, rapidly moving between the bed and her.

When he made no effort to move, she patted it again and said, "Come sit. You're tired, you shouldn't have to sit on the floor."

"I'm okay here."

She only rolled her eyes, moving even closer to his headboard and taking her things with her. "Don't be silly, Justin. Come sit."

Hesitantly, he stood up and sat beside her, stiff and wide eyed as if they hadn't spent every day together in school for years, as if being near her wasn't the norm. She kept explaining the concepts from their textbook, completely unaware of how fast his heart was beating when she inched just a little closer to point something out to him.

Her sweet perfume took over his senses and her hand brushing against his sent shockwaves down his arm. He'd never felt so alive and terrified at the same time, so comforted and anxious.

It wasn't some sudden revelation nor some thought that struck him. He just knew he was in love. He never wanted the feeling of her near, her gentle voice and her touch to end. And despite being too young to really understand what love was, outside of the love he had for his family, he just knew.

It was calming, in a way, to put a label on it. To know why his hands shook when she was close, why his voice cracked so often no matter how much he hated it.

It wasn't as scary of a thought as one would think. Because he loved her, and that was a good thing. To teenage Justin, love could never be anything other than good.

Eventually, he finished his homework with her help and it was time for her to leave. He followed her out to the front door, past his parents who were sitting in the living room watching TV.

"Are you leaving, honey?" Justin's mom, Holly, asked from the couch, turning around to look at the pair.

"Yeah, it's getting late," she smiled back.

"Are your parents coming to get you," his dad, Mark, then asked, knowing the girl lived just far away that walking alone in the dark wasn't a good idea.

"I was just gonna walk home," she told them, lifting her bag a little higher onto her shoulder. "It's not that far."

"Nonsense, Justin can drive you," Mark quickly shot down her suggestion. "The keys are on the kitchen table," he told his son.

"Thank you so much, Mr and Mrs Herbert."

Holly shook her head with a laugh. "For the last time, it's Mark and Holly, no need for titles."

Shyly, she nodded in response, thanking them once more before Justin led her out the door, but not without hearing a 'Drive safe' from inside the house.

Pulling into her parents driveway, Justin shut off the car just long enough for her to get out and walk to her door. But before she did, he pulled her into a hug, whispering "Good night," to her as they parted.

"Good night, Justin," she smiled softly, before grabbing her stuff and opening the car door. "See you tomorrow."

He kept his eyes on her all the way to the front door, waiting for her to wave and close it behind her before turning the car on again.

Being in love with someone he couldn't have should've hurt. It should've been sad and awful and bone crushing. But it wasn't. He was happy and in love, and that was enough for him.

[joeyburrrow]

happy justin at the pro bowl!

[joeyburrrow]

locker room pics 👀

[joeyburrrow]

he's so 🥹🥹🥹🥹

Beanie Justin 🥹

📸 (c): fan submission