#begals | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mustachrryluvr · 1 year

Text

Spongebob

Joe Burrow One Shot

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: none

“You know what always makes me feel better when I’m feeling overwhelmed?”

“What’s that, bub?” you ask curiously, having no idea where he could be going with that.

“Watching spongebob.”

—

You had been having a rough couple of weeks. Since you were still a student, you weren’t always able to follow Joe all over the country for his games. It is what it is, but sometimes it really got to you that you weren’t able to watch him succeed, or be there for him after a loss as often as you would like. Of course you could watch the games on tv, but it wasn’t the same as physically being there for him.

You were in your very last semester of college, and Joe had always supported you and made sure you knew he understood why you wouldn’t be able to come to all of his games. He would love if you were always there to watch him in person, and he knew that would happen in due time. Once you graduated, you would have time to live the NFL girlfriend life and you couldn’t wait.

You and Joe had only met last summer, so this was your first football season together. You met one random night in May when you were visiting your friend who was living in Cincinnati for the summer. You and your friend were making the most of your visit and were having the best girls’ night out at the bars when in walks no one other than the Bengals’ quarterback. Needless to say, everyone in the bar wanted to hang out with him. He was hanging out with some of his buddies from high school for the evening and knew going out in Cincy would be chaotic, but figured it would be worth the shot. As the evening progressed and bar goers had more drinks in them, everyone started to leave Joe alone. You both happened to stumble up to the bar in search of a new drink at the same time and the rest is history.

Exchanging numbers with Joe that night was the best thing that had ever happened to you. You only lived an hour and a half from Cincinnati, so that made it easy to go up on weekends to see him, with the occasional longer visit when you could get off work. It was harder for him to be able to leave town to come to you with his practice schedule, but you didn’t mind the drive.

Your relationship progressed very quickly. With not being able to see each other constantly and being semi-long distance, you were really able to cherish the time you were together. It didn’t take much time for either of you to realize how real the love between you two was.

You feared the strain the strain on your relationship that would be caused by you being in school while he had a full football season to complete, but you guys made it work. Texts, phone calls, and facetimes made it work. You went to as many home games as you could, but you couldn’t make it to all of them.

But that’s okay, because now it’s the off season and Joe has more free time to spend with you.

Except it’s not okay.

It’s not okay because it’s only the off season because the Bengals lost to the Chiefs in the AFC Championship.

A game you didn’t even get to go to because you had an exam you had to take early Monday morning and wouldn’t have enough time to fly back to Cincinnati and then drive to your campus.

It’s been a few days since the game and you are still feeling immense guilt. Watching the game from your apartment living room was perfectly fine util the game ended and there were tears streaming down your face because all you wanted to do was hug Joe and tell him that everything would be okay. You could tell during the post-game interviews that all he wanted was to get the questions over with from him short answers, and your heart broke being able to see the sadness in his face. He was a tough boy and hid his emotions well, but you could read him like no other. Even though you had a perfectly good reason to not be at the game, you just felt so selfish and guilty for not being there for him when he needed you most.

Now it was the Wednesday after and things still felt so overwhelming. Joe had traveled down to stay with you for a few days this afternoon, and you couldn’t be happier to finally get to see him. But between being so busy with school and still feeling weird about missing the game on Sunday, seeing him made it all come boiling over.

He had barely stepped a foot into your apartment when your smile faded and the tears began streaming down your face.

Worried, he immediately dropped his things, closed and locked your apartment door, and wrapped his arms around you as tight as he could, one around you body with one hand holding your head to his chest.

“Hey, hey. What’s up with the tears, bug? What’s going on, hmm?” he paused to kiss the top of your head and rest his lips there for a beat to see if you were calming down. Once it was clear you were full on sobbing into his chest, he gently turned his head down to try and get a glimpse of you before he spoke in a hushed tone, “Pretty girl, it’s okay to cry…but whatever it is that has you this upset, I would like to know. I don’t know how to help unless you talk to me.”

You lifted your head a tad to speak, but couldn’t stop the tears or catch your breath to get anything out.

“Hey, shhhhh. It’s okay, breathe with me, okay? Big breath in, and let it out.”

Joe walked you through some big breaths for a minute until you finally started to calm down. You burrowed yourself deeper into him and his hands smoothed over your back as his touch felt very grounding.

“There’s my girl. What’s going on in this pretty head of yours?” He asked, once again placing a kiss on the top of your head and proceeding to rest his cheek there as he swayed your bodies and waited for your response.

You sniffled a little then said, “I just missed you.”

“Hmmm, I missed you too, but that can’t be all of it, bug. We are apart from each other all the time, and I’ve never seen you react like this.”

You sighed, annoyed but endeared that he knows you that well.

“I just…I just am so sad I wasn’t there for you Sunday,” you mumbled out, feeling fresh tears on your waterline. “You needed me, and I wasn’t there.

He squeezed you tighter and waited for you to continue.

“I just feel guilty for not being there when you needed me most. It’s just been an overwhelming feeling…you work so hard and deserve the world and I felt so useless. I couldn’t do anything to help you.” As you finish your confession, you could feel new tears streaming down your face. You weren’t full on sobbing, but getting this overwhelming feeling off your chest allowed you to breathe a little easier.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were feeling this way? We’ve talked plenty since the game?” Joe askd, not trying to berate you for not telling him, just genuinely concerned as to why you had been bottling all these big feelings up.

“I just didn’t want to feel like a burden to you, Joey. You had enough you were and are going through. I was just worried about you.”

“Yeah, but I worry about you when you don’t talk to me, bug. I don’t want you bottling things up so much that you’re feeling so overwhelmed. You have absolutely no reason to feel guilty for not being there. All your texts, calls, and FaceTimes have been my saving grace,” he pauses, pulled back from your grasp and reached up to grab your cheeks so you are forced to look into his eyes.

With a serious look on his face he says, “You are not a burden and you are not useless. Okay?” he pauses and looks at you with his eyebrows raised, awaiting a response. You slightly nod and he continues. “I love you. Even if you weren’t physically at the game, I knew you were still there. Because you are always right here,” he says as he places your hand over his heart.

You look down at where he has placed your hand, take a deep breath, then look back up at him as he continues, “I wish you were physically there to hug after, but you were back here being the little smarty pants you are, studying away,” he said with a small smile as you slightly giggled at his wording. “And I wouldn’t have had it any other way. Next year, when you don’t have responsibilities to school, you’ll probably be sick of dealing with me after games. I can be quite the pain in the ass.”

You smile at his words and respond, “Yeah, but you’ll be my pain in the ass.”

“Absolutely,” he responds, happy to be seeing the light come back into your eyes.

He pulls you back into a hug, closing his eyes and smiling as he rests his head on yours.

“You know what always makes me feel better when I’m feeling overwhelmed?”

“What’s that, bub?” you ask curiously, having no idea where he could be going with that.

“Watching spongebob.”

“Of course,” you say with a giggle. “You are such a kid.”

“Maybe, but you love it, bug,” he responds before he reaches down and gives you a big, slobbery kiss on the cheek.

“Ewww!” you laugh as you push him off of you. “Go pull up an episode and I’ll go get some snacks… and maybe disinfect my cheek, Christ.”

a/n: ahhhhhh my first joe burrow one shot??? born and raised a bengals fan so joey becoming our quarterback has made me go insane... obviously ... let me know what you all think!

i also did NOT proof read this and i wrote it in like 20 mins so… hope it’s fine??

#joe burrow #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow fanfic #joe burrow fanfiction #joe burrow imagine #burrow #joeburrow #joe burrow fan fiction #nfl fan fic #nfl fanfiction #nfl imagine #joe burrow fic #begals #bengals fanfic #joey burrow

587 notes · View notes

likehoneyandsilk · 11 months

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 recovery 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 see it or not, 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 #cincinnati bengals imagines #joe burrow oneshot #joe burrow writes #joe burrow fanfictoon #nfl imagine

220 notes · View notes