Joe has to travel for an away game and his wife (reader) is 9 months pregnant who has to stay home - unable to travel due to being so close to giving birth. She gets very anxious lately whenever Joe has to leave because she can go into labor any day now.
Game day is here and the reader is not feeling well at all. She's curled up on the couch with a blanket and some tea, to watch the game. During the game, the reader's water breaks and she goes into labor. Joe's mom is in touch with her. Joe's mom notifies the team staff what's going on... and then they notify Joe during the game.
My heart is SO sorry anon 💔 Requests are currently closed but oh, what a fic this would make!
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.”
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.
Super excited for you all to read this collaboration between me and my friend @alitheamateur ! I've never done a writing collab before so this was a great challenge that allowed me to explore a new format. She is a fantastic author and all of you need to give her a follow.
I'd love to create a series of these writer collaborations in our fandom this off-season, so shoot me a message if you'd like to schedule one!
You couldn’t be too bitter. It seemed all your fortune had fallen on Joe this weekend, leaving you with it's ugly stepbrother-misfortune. He’d notched an away game win under his belt while you’d spent the last 36 hours retching up what seemed to be the air you breathed. Missing him on the field, live and in the flesh, made you feel almost as sick as this lethal virus festering in your belly.
“Find the positives,” Joe would always say. From securing some fresh out-of season grapefruit at the farmers market when they were out of your usual favorite strawberries, to losing out to a colleague on the latest marketing bid, Joe was the epitome of sunny optimism.
You’d just about lost all sense of the positive as you climbed into the stale sheets of your California king, the ache of your illness weighing down your body. You had mustered together the energy to take a lukewarm shower and rid your skin of the bathroom floor grime after spending most waking, and even sleeping moments, toilet-side.
The scent of Joe’s musky shampoo on his pillow beneath your head eased the spin of the room & the nausea residing deep in your stomach, and you’d begun to feel the draw of sleep when your phone chirped.
How’s my favorite girl?
You read the text from Joe with a lackadaisical smile.
I think I’ve rid my body of everything I’ve consumed over the past year but I’m currently clean, so that’s a plus. Digging that new shampoo, by the way. That’s a keeper.
You could clearly picture the cheeky grin likely plastered on his face; his sinewy fingers pushing the damp hair out of his eyes as he read your reply.
Not sick enough for that dirty little mind to obsess over me though, I see😉
A winking face replaced his use of punctuation and you rolled your eyes at his shamelessness.
Ease up, Burrow. My stomach is too weak for your shit.
He usually called you when he’d gotten settled in on the ride back to the hotel on the rare occasions you weren't in attendance of a game, so you sat up a bit in bed to prepare for the inevitable call.
I’m okay to talk for the time being. Call me?
The bubbles of a reply played peek-a-boo on your screen over & over while you waited for the phone to ring.
I’m not in state of mind to hear your voice right now. Not in public at least.
Confusion & dread swelled in your now-heavy chest for a moment, but you knew him better than to assume the worst.
?
You answered, your brow furrowed.
I put in an order for some a tuna roll when I got back to the room for dinner. It made me think of our trip last month and that little sushi spot you dragged me to every day. And then I thought about that white bikini. And then I thought about taking it off.
Joseph, Joseph, Joseph. The memory of that white string bikini would never fade for him, you thought to yourself. Suddenly, you found that positive he was always preaching about as your mind transported to last month.
You recalled the exact moment he was referring to, and soon the nausea in your stomach was replaced with a fervent heat. The two of you had spent three days lazing on the white sand of a secluded Key West beach, alone. Joe had spent this particular afternoon with his head on your chest; his salty strains of sweat mixing with yours.
Rolling over to greet you behind his shielded eyes, he flashed a mischievous grin & untied the halter of you swim top. You’d mounted a brief protest but the delirium of smoldering temps & the sensation of his soft lips on your ribs easily won out. He had subsequently inched his way atop you, the sand from his broad chest sticking to your goose-bumped skin.
Oh yeah? I’m not sure if I remember what you’re referring to.
Liar.
The fuck you don’t.
Refresh my memory then.
Nothing too crazy, I guess. Just my fingers damn near down your throat to keep you halfway quiet while I ate you out. You wouldn’t stop calling me, what was it, again?…’Daddy’?
You felt a fever falling upon you. One completely unrelated to the nasty illness you’d been battling, and unfortunately the remedy was unavailable to you at the moment.
I can fucking taste you right now.
Joe’s eyes twinkled at his screen as he pictured you shifting in the bed, and he wished desperately that you were by his side instead of languishing in Cincinnati.
Oh yeah? Left a good taste in your mouth, I hope?
Pure. Fucking. Candy.
You felt a tickling at the meeting of your thighs and you swore under your breath at the hundreds of miles that currently separated you and Joe. Without any physical touch from his—or your own hands— for that matter, and yet wouldn’t take much more for you to lose it instantly. The filthy mouth on this one, you mused.
You’re pretty delicious yourself, 9. I think that might be just the medicine I need.
Envisioning the gaping reverence you knew Joe was displaying at your boldness got you worked up and you grinned slyly. You’d always been the more reserved partner and the bashfulness you normally displayed whenever a conversation over text got bawdy had disappeared.
I think you might be on to something there.
In that instant, you wanted nothing more to test that theory. Now that you thought about it, there wasn’t a thing that could withstand the lethal, hot touch of that man.
I need you to understand how fucking hard I’m getting just when I see your name popping up on my damn phone.
Mashing your lips together, you typed out the message that would send Joe over the edge in an instant.
If that’s got you hard, you’re going to positively erupt at my confession…
What confession? Have you been bad while I’ve been away?
Before my gastrointestinal demise, I may have watched our little production we made on that trip and let’s just say I was more worked up than you are right now.
The same polka dots of a reply appeared and disappeared for a few minutes while you awaited a response. When one didn’t come, you were concerned that you’d managed to cross some invisible line in your relationship that you didn’t know existed.
Joe? Are you okay? Did I lose you?
Sorry, I had to get to my room. You got me more excited than I really wanted to be in front of the guys.
You let out a giggle of relief and shifted again under the comforter, your tingling now morphed into throbbing between your legs.
Show me.
Not 10 seconds had passed before you were bestowed a photo of one of your favorite parts of Joe; fully erect, slightly red, and glossy at the tip.
You weren’t exaggerating. Someone’s very excited.
Your turn.
Shaking your head, you felt your face flush as you tossed back the covers and tried to smooth out the bird’s next that your hair had become. You snapped a suggestive photo with the strap of your nightgown teetering dangerously off your shoulder before frowning at the image. Too tame. Sighing loudly, you peeled off the sweaty garment and took another, this time pressing send immediately.
Baby, you’re practically dripping onto the sheets.
I know but you’re in Miami and I’m stuck here, so I guess I’m SOL.
No you’re not. Go into the bottom drawer of the nightstand like I know you did the other night when you had that private screening.
You shifted your gaze to the drawer that housed your vibrator and grabbed it; typing out a request of Joe in the process.
Only if you do the same.
Unfortunately I left my purple vibrator at home.
Hardee har har Joe. You know what I mean.
I’m already on it.
Smiling to yourself, you leaned back and closed your eyes as you brought the toy to your aching clit. There was no stopping the animalistic moans that followed; your orgasm soon ripping through your body after the tête-à-tête with Joe. Stars showered your eyelids while your chest heaved, and you must have dozed off for a few minutes when you were woken up by the buzz of your phone.
Well that took no time at all.
Same here.
We are nothing if not efficient.
Exactly. How are you feeling now?
Better but still not as good as I’ll feel when you’re back home. What time are you landing?
2PM. Text me a list of anything you need from the grocery store and I’ll grab it on my way home.
Will do. I love you Joe.
I love you too baby. Please get some rest now.
Yawning loudly, you curled up against Joe’s pillow and inhaled the scent once more, letting the soothing eucalyptus fill your senses as you drifted off to sleep, finally relaxed enough to recharge properly after days of restlessness.
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