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starsinthesky5 · 12 days

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nothing's gonna hurt you baby || joe burrow x reader

description: the first game of the season doesn't go as planned and it kills you to see joe like this. you can't help but feel deja vu...

a/n: ahem, is this thing on 🎤🎤. i'm backkkkk… after a much-needed tiny break (not planned just life getting in the way). this is a little something i cooked up! still working on "taste" which is a slow work in progress but that's the main next fic that'll be coming soon!

as always, thanks for reading & showing love :)))) i hope this wasn’t too much yapping and nonsense lol. the smut isnt my best because i wrote it while i was half asleep but i hope you enjoy it. there’s also plenty of song references throughout the fic (biggest one and the inspiration being this CAS song)

warnings: angst, fluff, smut. that's literally the whole fic :)

word count: 12.2 k

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You leaned back against the wall across from the entrance to the locker rooms, anxiously picking at a thumbnail on your finger as you waited for your boyfriend to come out so you two could go home. You were standing in your orange halter crop top with a little '9' embroidered on the bottom left side and matching white jean shorts with the same '9' embroidered in orange on the back right pocket. The '9' on your shorts was a little bigger than the one on your top which Joe loved because according to him ‘everyone knows who your ass belongs to’. His adorable possessive nature was always something you admired and appreciated. He was very secure in your relationship and knew nobody would take you from him, but that didn't stop him from ensuring everyone knew you were his at any chance he got.

You were also wearing orange stiletto knee-high boots which adds to the overall orange vibe of your game-day outfit. The theme was 'open in orange' so you were wearing as much orange as you could possibly make look cute. Your '9' necklace was the only piece of jewelry you had around your neck, and your wrists were decked out with bracelets given to you by Joe–each one even more polished and expensive than the previous one, and various rings on your fingers. Your favorite one, the beautiful promise ring Joe gave you for your 2nd anniversary, shined brighter than any of the jewelry you had on. It was a ‘secret garden’ inspired ring, one of your favorite books of all time, and also the reason you and Joe met back in college.

There was a growing pit in your stomach as you stood there gazing at the large ‘B’ on the wall outside the locker room, a slow-burning sensation that started about two minutes into the game, and it was only getting bigger as the minutes passed by. By the end of the game, you were the most on edge you had ever been in your entire life.

Since this was Joe's first real game back after his wrist injury, your anxiety was already pretty bad by the time you got to the stadium. Your brain was swarmed with 'what-if?' scenarios and it was eating you alive. Joe, however, seemed the exact opposite of you. He was completely calm, normal, and focused like this was any other game. His peaceful temperament wasn't surprising since he had always been like this before every game but it also should've been expected since he worked through most of his emotions with you the night before and didn’t have anything left to get out. You on the other hand did a complete 360; you were so calm with him last night but right now you were on the verge of ripping your eyelashes out.

Flashback to the night before

You reached over to grab your glass of water, taking a big sip to help wash down the spicy chicken you were eating for dinner. You looked up at Joe as you were swallowing your water, noting how he was playing around with his food on his unusually full plate. You had been eating for almost 15 minutes and by now, his plate should be empty given how much of an animal he was once dinner rolled around.

“Not hungry?” you broke the unusual silence and asked.

Joe's eyes glanced up to meet yours, his cheeks burning because you took note of his behavior, which you weren't supposed to. “Uhh, not really,” he sighed as he placed his fork down and leaned back in his chair, his sweaty hands sliding up and down his thighs out of nervousness.

“You do know you have a game tomorrow, right?” you chuckled as you placed your fork down and leaned back in your chair like he was. “You need all the protein you can get,”.

“...Y- yeah, I know,” Joe mumbled after a few seconds of uneasy silence.

You instantly noticed the change in his body language at the mention of the game; the way his eyes fell down to his lap after his mumbling response, the way he started bouncing his left leg, his shoulders tensing up a little bit, the way he was constantly doing something with his hands as if he was uncomfortable, the way he was chewing at his bottom lip. These were all things Joe did when he was feeling anxious.

But why was he anxious?

“Hey, you okay?” you asked while leaning forward again, his body language making you worry.

“Yeah, I'm fine,” he swallowed, still not meeting your eyes. He knew all it took was for you to get one look at his eyes to figure out he was lying and he really didn't want to burden you with his complicated emotions tonight.

“He’s lying,” you thought to yourself. The fact that he was avoiding eye contact with you was a dead giveaway. “Joe?” you said while lowering your head to get into his view.

“Yeah?” he said, his voice slightly trembling as he finally looked into your eyes.

“Why are you lying to me?” you said as your face dropped at the sight of his tired eyes and shaky voice.

“I’m not ly-,” he began to say before you interrupted him.

“Yeah, you are,” you interrupted. “I know you, remember. I know you better than you know yourself,” you softly laughed.

You weren’t wrong there, you did know Joe better than he knew himself and he was the first one to admit it. You knew exactly what he was thinking, exactly how to put his feelings into words even when he couldn’t do so himself, and exactly how to handle him. There was a reason why you were the only person he let into the bubble that he had around himself once football started back up. You were his shelter in the hurricane that became his life once he was back on the field and without you, Joe would be a mess.

Your response earned no reaction from Joe, he just sat there in silence and continued to bounce his leg up and down as he started to play with the wristbands on his wrist, yet another anxiety-related mannerism.

You let out a tired breath, “I’m not doing this, I can’t have him shut me out again,” you thought to yourself before scooting your chair back, walking around the dining table, and sitting down on the seat next to him. You turned your chair to face him and grabbed his hands, feeling the thin layer of sweat that coated his palms which made your heart hurt.

“Joe, it’s just us right now. Nothing’s gonna hurt you baby, talk to me,” you said while giving his hands a soft squeeze. You were feeling deja vu right now, you found yourself in the same situation you found yourself in many times over the early months of the off-season, only then it was 10 times worse than it was right now.

Joe looked into your eyes, his body feeling heavy as self-doubt, anxiety, and fear crept into his mind. He was nervous about tomorrow’s game. Joe had never been nervous about a game like this and you were sitting in front of him, trying to get him to talk which you shouldn’t need to ‘try’ to do, he should be openly talking to you right now about his feelings. He always let you into the bubble, so why was it so hard for him to do it right now?

He realized that he was shutting down again, just like he had when he first got injured back in November. He didn’t want to go back to that dark place again, especially since coming out of it was a struggle that affected you both very badly. “I’m scared,” he choked out a few seconds later, trying his best to push through the wall he was unknowingly building again.

“Why?” you quietly asked as you felt your heart shatter because of the tone of his voice. You hated seeing him like this, it broke your heart to see him like this. You moved your hand up to cup his neck, the pads of your fingers were softly rubbing his tan skin which was a gentle action that you knew would calm him down.

“It’s my first game back from injury. An injury that could’ve easily ended my career. It should’ve ended my career,” he said while lifting his hand to wipe a stray tear from his eye.

“But it didn’t,” you smiled. “It didn’t end your career then and it won’t end your career now,”.

“How do you know that? I haven’t played in a real game since November. I haven’t gotten hit yet, I haven’t gotten sacked yet, and I haven’t been putting that much pressure on my hand. Tomorrow could easily be the last game of my career. Just one wrong move and-,”.

“No.” you interrupted. “You’re not doing that. Not on my watch,” you sternly said, trying to prevent him from getting too far inside his head about everything. Overthinking was his worst enemy.

“I’m being realistic, Y/N. Who knows if I’ll be the same Joe I was before,” he said while blinking away a few tears.

“You don’t need to be the same Joe you were before,” you soothed while continuing to rub his neck. “What you went through was unlike anything anyone has seen before, if people are expecting you to get right back to where you left off then they have no heart or brains. You’ll get to where you need to be, I promise. Things like this take time,” you added. “The Joe you are now is more than enough. You have grown in many ways that you might not have been able to unless you went through what you went through after November. You’ve worked on yourself and become more open, honest, and loose. You’ve put in the work on the field, in the weight room, in training, and even at home. You’re coming out of this a better person and a better player. A better Joe,”.

“I just don’t want to let anyone down. What if we lose tomorrow? With the slow start narrative getting louder and the aftermath of my wrist injury, this could be really fucked. This year is so important and I just don’t want to let anyone down; the organization, the team, the public, you,” he continued, his grip on your other hand becoming tighter. “I know I have a chip on my shoulder and have a lot to prove this year, but the thought of people not seeing that is killing me,”.

“You won’t let anyone down, Joe. And you could never ever fucking let me down, never say that again,” you said as you continued to rub his neck, seeing that he was getting more loose from your touch. “You’ve worked so so hard the past 10 months to get back to where you want to be and everyone and I mean everyone has seen that. I’ve seen that. Adversity always makes you better, it ignites that fire inside of you. That fire makes you who you are,” you said to him, feeling a little more comfortable yourself after seeing his body relax a bit. “Remember who you are. You’re Joe Burrow. Heisman winner, College Football National Champion, the first overall draft pick, one of the Top 5 quarterbacks in the league, one of the highest-paid quarterbacks, Ohio’s golden boy. You’re all of those things for a reason, Joe. You have it in you. You don’t need to be afraid or doubt yourself because you did all of those things, nobody else, just you,”.

You moved your hand over and wiped the tears that slowly were sliding down his cheeks before feeling Joe grab your hand and press a wet kiss to your palm. “I love you,” he sniffled. “I genuinely don’t know what I would do without you,”.

“I love you too,” you smiled before you leaned up to kiss his forehead. “Tomorrow is unpredictable, I will admit. But you control the narrative. You control what happens and what doesn’t happen out there. It’s just you and the football like it always has been. I know you and I know you’re going to kill it,”.

Joe gave you a small nod as he let your words sit inside of his head; you were right and he knew you were right. He did all of this himself, he single-handedly built his reputation and although there was an immense amount of pressure on him to maintain it, he knew that it was his reputation. He had control over his story, not anyone else. He didn’t need to work at anyone else’s speed except for his own. He knows the narrative that the media has been running with since November, that his career has been hindered by continuous injuries and he’s ’injury prone’. He knows what that title has done to the public's opinion on his career and rank as a player, but they don’t get to define him based on what they think. He is defined by everything he does himself.

It’s not their story, it’s his.

He reached out and placed his hand on your waist, gently pulling you from your chair and into his lap. You instantly looped your arms around his neck and pushed his head to the crook of your neck, this warm hug from you was the final thing he needed to fully calm his nerves. “You always know what to say to me,” he mumbled against your collarbone as you ran your fingers through his slightly grown-out frosted tips, his hands softly massaging your plush skin.

“It’s my job,” you chuckled. “I signed up for this when I met you in English class all those years ago and I plan on staying true to what I signed up for as long as I can,” you added before you dropped a kiss on his cheek, your mind calming down once you felt him relax against you.

“You better plan on it. I’m not letting you go anywhere,” he said as he pulled you in tighter.

“Well it’s a good thing I don’t want to go anywhere,” you giggled in his ear before pressing a kiss to it, then turning back to serious to finish off your little pep-talk. “I’m so proud of you, Joe. More than you’ll ever know. You’re truly the hardest working man I’ve ever met and you continue to amaze me with your dedication and determination every single day. Never think that you’re not good enough and you’re not who everyone thinks you are. You’re Joe Fucking Burrow. Never forget that,”.

“I won’t,” he sighed contently, finally at peace. “I won’t forget,” he said again before he pulled you closer and closed his eyes, getting lost in your palliative embrace.

End of flashback

You were so calm last night and now you were the complete opposite; you couldn’t figure out where and when things went south with your emotions. During the game, your brain was running a mile a minute as you thought of everything that could go wrong: Joe re-aggravating his injury, someone else on the team getting badly injured, and the team not being able to beat the slow start narrative. You were anxious, nervous, and deeply scared once the first quarter of the game started, and your feelings were validated when two minutes into the game Joe got sacked and fumbled the ball.

You remember your heart stopping once you saw him go down as this was the first time he had been hit since November.

“No!” you screamed as you shot up from your seat, your hand gripping the necklace around your neck as you looked down on the field and saw a bunch of large behemoths on top of him. “No, No, No,” you panicked as your breaths got shorter, your anxiety getting worse and worse as you saw flashbacks from the Ravens game in November. “Please be okay,” you thought to yourself as you were on the verge of tears.

Then you remember your heart dropping to your feet once you saw the ball come loose and even though he recovered it, this whole play left a bitter taste in your mouth since it was literally the first few minutes of the game and things were already not going as planned. Luckily, his going down didn’t seem to affect his wrist, but you could only imagine how it affected him mentally.

You thought that would’ve been the only sack of the game, but once again you were wrong. Each time Joe went down, you felt your heart stop. Each time he ran, your heart stopped again as you got flashbacks from early last year with his calf injury. Each time the camera panned to the sidelines and focused in on him, you felt like crying because you could tell the way the game was going was eating away at him by his facial expressions.

Every sack, every fumble, every drive that ended without scoring, and every turnover was killing you because the things Joe feared were happening even though you told him they wouldn’t. Seeing him flex his wrist on the sidelines and in between plays was the one thing that really did it for you. You didn’t know if this was just to keep his hand loose because he was feeling some tightness or whether this was because something was actually bothering him, your brain was in panic mode for the rest of the game.

“I hope he’s okay, that was ugly,” you thought to yourself before you jumped at the sound of the locker room door swinging open and snapping you out of your daze.

You watched as Joe walked out of the locker room, his eyes exhausted and defeated as he gave you a small ‘reassuring’ smile, however, it wasn’t very reassuring because his eyes gave his true feelings away in an instant.

You returned his smile with a smile of your own, opening your mouth to ask him if he was okay but before you could he leaned forward and dropped a kiss on your lips. He held it for a few moments as he melted into your touch which was the only relieving feeling he had felt all day before pulling away, entwining your pinkies, and leading you out to the car.

“That’s not good, he’s never this quiet when I come to meet him after the game,” you thought to yourself. If you didn’t say something first, he almost always did, but he wasn’t saying anything which was concerning. You stayed quiet as he led you out to the garage, your eyes not leaving his weary face for one second. You could tell he wasn’t okay, you could tell he was beating himself up over today’s loss.

A few moments later, he led you over to the passenger’s side of the car, an unusual move since you always drove the both of you home after a game. “I thought I was driving,” you gently said as you looked up at him.

“I got it,” he said with no emotion in his voice, dropping your pinky and looking into your eyes with his now cold and emotionless ones.

“But Joe I-,” you began to say but before you could finish your sentence he turned around and walked to the other side of the car.

“He definitely heard me,” you thought to yourself as you watched him open the backseat door and roughly throw his bag in, then slammed the door shut with a little more force than usual which startled you.

You let out a deep breath before opening your door and sliding into the passenger seat, your body stiff and frozen because of the way he was acting. You were scared to say something, scared to do something because you didn’t know what reaction you’d get from him, “He’s not doing this again, right?” you worried.

10 minutes into the drive home, you started getting agitated. He had yet to say anything to you, not even asking you if you were cold and if he should turn down the AC which he always asked you whenever you were in the car since he knew you got cold easily. His hands were gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles were practically turning white and his eyes were so locked in on the road in front of you that he hadn’t even noticed that you started shivering a little bit.

“Are you okay?” you finally broke the tension and asked, your bottom lip in between your teeth out of nervousness. Joe rarely ever raised his voice at you or got irritated by you saying something to him, but that didn’t stop you from getting nervous around him whenever he was acting like this.

You saw his jaw clench for a brief moment, your heart skipping a beat as you braced yourself for a potentially explosive reaction, but then you saw him unclench it. “I’m fine,” he said, once again with no emotion in his voice.

You gave him a small nod and then a few seconds later asked another question since he wasn’t budging, “How’s your wrist?”.

He let out a sigh, one that you could hear from his nose so it was definitely coming from a tired place, “It’s fine,” he said again, not giving you much to work with.

“He’s not fine, lying yet again. Maybe I could make him laugh? I need to do something to get him to loosen up” you thought to yourself, your brain scrambling to think of something to make him laugh even if it was for a brief moment.

“At least you guys scored a touchdown this time,” you smiled a few seconds later. “Even though you didn’t win the game, I’d say it was better than week 1 last year against the browns,”.

You studied his face carefully after you finished your sentence, searching for any tiny muscle movement that resulted in his lips curling up into a smile, but nothing. “Yeah,” he nodded, once again with no emotion. He then reached over to the center console, turning the knob for the volume up so that the once softly playing music was blasting throughout the car.

You felt your lip quiver and your eyes started to pool with tears as you continued to look at him, praying that he would look at you for even one brief moment, but he didn’t. “He’s doing it again,” you thought to yourself as you fell back into your seat. “He’s fucking doing it again. Just like he did after he got injured. He’s shutting me out,” you thought as you felt a tear slide down your cheek, your head turning away so that you were looking out the window so if Joe did happen to look over at you, he wouldn’t notice your silent tears.

Joe did look over at you. He was waiting for you to stop looking at him because he couldn’t look into your eyes right now, not when his brain was all over the place and he could regret the things that potentially came out of his mouth. He looked over at you when he saw you turn your head to the window from the corner of his eyes, his eyes softening when he saw your body shaking. You were cold. He always asks you if you’re cold, and this time he didn’t.

“I fuck everything up,” he muttered under his breath as he reached over to turn the AC down.

30 minutes later

After a car ride filled with deafening silence, you made it back home a half hour later and were pouring two glasses of water for you and Joe. He was sitting at the kitchen island behind you scrolling on his phone, still quiet as ever. You grabbed his glass and placed it in front of him, getting a peek at what he was looking at on his phone.

Media reactions.

Joe never looked at what the internet was saying about a game after it happened, it was one of his ‘blocking outside noise’ methods, so why was he looking at them?

“You really shouldn’t be looking at all that bullshit,” you said to him as you took a small sip of your water, the cool liquid feeling like a quiet unraveling of tightness within your body.

Joe was so focused on his phone that he didn’t notice that you were talking to him, the only things that he could hear were the voices of reporters talking about the team’s constant slow starts, his poor performance–saying that he played scared, rusty, and didn’t look like himself and that this team is constantly setting itself up for failure.

A video came up on his phone, an analyst was talking about his performance in today’s game, “We have to talk about Joe Burrow. He said he was ready, he said he felt great, and he said that this team was ready. But did that Cincinnati Bengals team that played against the Patriots today look ready? Absolutely not. Did the Joe Burrow who stepped out onto that field look ready? Absolutely Not. He looked scared, he didn’t look like himself. The lack of Deep Balls, the lack of throwing down the field. That’s not the Joe Burrow we’ve seen in years past. What’s truly going on in Cincinnati? Is there a deeper issue within that we aren’t seeing?”.

“They see right through me,” Joe thought to himself, feeling his eyes sting from the hot tears that were threatening to come out. He felt like the room was on fire, and there was invisible smoke. Nobody could really see what he was going through, all they saw was the burning room.

You felt your heart drop as you heard the reporter talk about Joe’s performance in today’s game, knowing that Joe was probably already criticizing himself and this was going to make it worse. “Joe?” you said a little louder, snapping him out of the dark haze he was stuck in.

“Hm?” he hummed as he looked up at you, noticing your pursed lips and worried eyes.

“Are you okay?” you asked again, feeling uneasy from the look he had on his face.

“...I said I’m fine,” he replied, his voice a little rougher than earlier.

You shook your head, “I know you’re not fine. Stop lying to me,” you said with a more rigid tone.

“I’m not lying to you. I said I’m fine. I don’t think it could be more simpler than that,” he rolled his eyes as he picked up his glass of water, taking a big sip.

“If you are really ‘fine’,” you say, making air quotes around ‘fine’, “Why are you looking at all that bullshit? You never look at any of that because you say it messes with your head,” you say.

“Because I can?” he scoffs, standing up from the barstool and walking around the island to place his water glass in the sink.

You take a deep breath, trying not to point out his snappy attitude because you know he isn’t in the right headspace right now. “Joe, seriously. I know you’re not fine but it’s just me. You can talk to me,” you gently say as you walk over to him, placing a hand on his shoulder but he quickly turns around and walks back over to where he was sitting to grab his phone which made your hand drop from his shoulder.

“I know you had a shitty game, I know you’re in your head about it, I get it. Trust me I do, but just let me-,” you begin to say as you walk over to him before he interrupts you.

“Do you though?” he asks. “Do you really get it? Sweet talking and hugs don’t magically make everything better, Y/N,” he says, his voice a little louder.

“Ouch.” you thought to yourself. “No. Remember, he’s not in the right headspace, Y/N. He’s not trying to be hurtful,”.

“I’m not saying that,” you say to him. “I know that doesn’t make everything better but talking to someone about your feelings does. You know that. You spent weeks working on that, remember?” referring to the therapy sessions he had this past off-season to work through the emotional and mental effects of his injury and just overall mental health.

“I know, but I said I’m fine. I don’t need to talk about anything, especially with you,” he said, his words feeling like a punch to your gut.

“Okay, what the fuck?” you thought to yourself. “What do you mean ‘especially’ with me?” you asked, your tone switching from gentle to slightly angry.

Joe stays quiet for a few seconds, his gaze fixed on the concerned look on your face. He knew what he was saying to you was most likely hurting you and you were coming from a place of worry, but he couldn’t control the things that were leaving his mouth right now. “I’m not doing this with you right now,” he shook his head and turned around, walking over to the stairs.

“Doing what?” you said loudly, following him over to the stairs. “I’m just trying to get you to talk to me but you’re making this a bigger deal than it needs to be,”.

“How am I making this a bigger deal?” he grumbles, turning around to look at you. “You’re the one that won’t leave me alone. I’ve said that I’m fine to you like 5 times now,”.

“You’re making this a bigger deal because you’re shutting me out, again,” you say, feeling your cheeks burn with anger, frustration, and sadness. You and Joe hardly fought, and whenever you did, it broke both of you. You felt like absolute shit right now and you couldn’t even imagine how Joe was feeling.

“No, I’m not. You’re being unbelievable right now,” he rolled his eyes again and started walking up the stairs with you hot on his tail.

“No, I’m not,” you say, echoing his words. “You are shutting me out just like you did after your wrist injury. What happened to letting me in your bubble? Because right now it feels like I’m being pushed 100 feet from your bubble for no reason,” you said, your voice a little shaky as you tried to hold back your building tears.

“I’m not shutting you out, Y/N,” he said loudly, his voice even more rougher. “Just because I don’t want to talk to you about how shitty I did today doesn’t mean I’m shutting you out. I just don’t want or feel the need to talk to you about it,”.

“See, you aren’t okay. I knew you weren’t okay. You know you played like shit so you’re clearly not fine,” you huffed as you made it to the top of the stairs.

“Is that all you wanted to hear? That I played like shit? Okay, yeah, I played like absolute shit. You win. Now will you leave me alone?” he said, trying to hold back from shouting at you even though he was dancing on the line that separated shouting from talking loudly.

“That’s not what I want to hear, Joe. You know that,” you said, your voice cracking once you felt a hot tear slide down your cheek. “I just want you to talk to me about your feelings, especially after our conversation last night. I don’t want you to go through all that again because I know how hard you tried to move past this mentally. You shut me out before and dealt with all of this on your own, and I saw how badly it affected you. I don’t want you to do that again. I can’t see you like that again,” you cried, your body shaking as all of your built-up emotions from the entire day were coming out.

You wiped your eyes as you followed him down the hallway, both of you walking past your bedroom and heading toward his office. You made it to the door and watched him open it and step inside. You were going to follow him in, but he turned around on the doorstep which blocked you from going inside. “No,” he shook his head.

“But..Joe I-,” you cried harder.

“No. Just please go away,” he said, his jaw clenching again like it was earlier, but this time it stayed clenched. “I can’t deal with you right now,” he said, his words feeling like a stab to your heart now.

There was nothing behind those eyes now. He had built up that wall again, that wall you tried so hard to prevent from being built because you knew you’d never be able to get over it. The same wall that he had built back in November after his injury. He did it again. After working so hard to be more open and honest about his feelings, thoughts, and emotions, he went straight back to square 1.

“Joe, please,” you pleaded. “Nothing’s gonna hurt you baby, if you just talk to me,” you cried more forcefully.

Joe stared at you for a few heartbeats, his heart-shattering at the sight of the state he had brought you to. It was all his fault. Everything was his fault; the game and now this argument. Deep down, he knew you were right, but he just couldn’t see it because the wall he had built was too high.

He was about to open his mouth to say something, trying to listen to you and talk to you about how he was feeling, but he backed down once he saw you start to shake. He saw your distressed face, your red eyes, your trembling lip, your shaking body, and your rapid breathing. He knew this was all his fault. If he unloaded all of his incredibly heavy, intense, and dreadful feelings on you right now, that would be so incredibly selfish of him.

Joe backed up in the doorway which made you think he was letting you come inside, but just as you were about to come in, he shut the door on your face.

You stare at the closed door for a few seconds, not processing what just happened. He really wasn’t letting you in. After all that, after everything he went through? After everything you both went through these past 10 months?

“Do you know how scared I was the entire game? Do you know how every time you went down my heart stopped? Do you know that I spent 5 minutes crying in the bathroom during halftime because I saw the look on your face?” you shouted at the door, your sobs getting louder. “I know this is hard for you but I’m here, Joe. I’m always h- here,” you choke out.

“Just leave me the fuck alone!” Joe shouted through the door, tears sliding down his cheeks as he squeezed his eyes shut because he instantly regretted saying that to you especially with that harshness in his voice that he knew would hurt you.

You backed up from the door once you heard him shout at you, he never shouted at you, not even when you had arguments worse than this. You looked around the hallway, trying to collect your thoughts but there were none left to collect. You said everything that you could’ve possibly said to get through to him, what more was there left to say?

He wanted you to leave him alone, so you were going to do just that.

“Okay, I’ll leave you alone,” you whispered to yourself, turning around and walking to your shared bedroom, your sobs echoing throughout the house as you disappeared inside your room.

On the other side of the office door, Joe was sitting in his office chair, hot tears sliding down his cheeks as he was drowning with regret. He lamented saying those things to you, he doesn’t know what came over him. What was wrong with him?

“Why did I do that to her? Why the fuck did I do that to…her?” he sniffled. He knows his anxiety and fears are controlling him right now, but there was absolutely no reason for him to take it out on the one person who always is there for him no matter what.

“I fuck everything up,” he cried as he looked at a photo of the two of you sitting on his desk, a photo his mom took after he got his wrist surgery.

Flashback to November 27th

“Babe, can we go skydiving?” Joe laughed as he rolled his head against the pillow to look at you. He had just woken up from surgery so he was feeling the effects of the anesthesia, and boy were they funny. The things that were coming out of his mouth were nothing but lighthearted, pure fun. It was good to see him laugh and smile especially since how melancholic his attitude had been since he got injured.

“Absolutely not,” you said while giving him a serious look. “You are not jumping out of a plane as long as I am on this earth,”.

“But why not? They have parachutes,” he pouted. “I think it would be sooooo fun,”.

“This is the same man who hates flying. Can you believe it?” Robin laughed as she finished typing up a text to send to family members to let them know the surgery went really well.

“I know right?” you laughed with her.

“How long did they say I can’t do stuff with my hand for?” Joe asked you with his adorable wide-eyed stare.

“I think they said to have it in a sling for at least a month right now until your first follow-up,” you said as you brushed his hair out of his eyes.

“A month?” Joe dramatically gasped, his jaw dropping to the floor.

“Yeah,” you laughed. “Sorry baby, you’re not Deadpool and can’t heal within 5 seconds,” you smiled.

“Wait, does that mean we can’t have sex for a month?” he gasped again.

“Joe!” you shrieked, your cheeks turning red because his mom was right in front of you both.

“Ah, wait. Loophole, duhh. You can just be on top which I know you love,” he winked while using his finger to point at you for emphasis.

“Oh my god,” you whined as you hid your face in your sweatshirt sleeves, hearing Joe’s mom break out into a fit of laughter.

“Hey, don’t hide your pretty face from me,” Joe pouted as he used his good hand to lower your hands that were covering your face. “Ahh, there she is. My beautiful, adorable, sexy-as-hell, fiance,” he said after you uncovered your face.

“Fiance?” you raised an eyebrow and asked. “Is this your way of proposing?” you giggled.

“No. When I actually do, it’ll be way more grander, sexier, and special than this,” he winked. “Like I’m talking maybe on the top of the Empire State Building, maybe in the middle of the football stadium, maybe at the top of the Eiffel Tower, maybe even while we go skydiving type special proposal. But I know I’m marrying you and I like the word fiance better than girlfriend,” he laughed.

“You’re insane,” you laughed as you dropped your head to his chest, feeling him cup your head with his good hand and drop a kiss on your head.

“I love you like a lot,” he giggled. “Like a lot a lot,” he giggled again.

“Ohh, I know,” you cheesed.

“You definitely don’t. I love you more than words can describe,” he smiled, you craned your head up to look into his sweet eyes before leaning up and pressing a kiss to his lips. “I love you too, Burrow,”.

After you pulled away you were about to get up from his hospital bed but his mom spoke up, “Wait, stay like that. I’m going to get a picture,” she smiled.

“Yesss,” Joe nodded. “I loveeeee pictures, especially with my fiance,”.

“You are really something,” you giggled as you sat up straight.

You moved your hair back and helped Joe scooch up in the bed before turning your head and pressing a kiss to his cheek, placing your hand under his chin as he had a giant grin on his face. His good hand was wrapped around your waist and was holding you as close as possible to his body.

You two were so happy. For once this past month, you were laughing, you both were smiling.

“Are you going to be my protector for the next few months?” Joe giggled. “Not let anything bad happen to me and my wrist?”.

“Oh, 100%. I am your nurse, personal bodyguard, and protector. Nobody is hurting my man on my watch,” you grinned again as you smothered his cheeks with kisses.

You both knew this wasn’t going to be easy, but as long as you were by each other’s side, nothing was going to hurt you.

End of flashback

“Nothing’s going to hurt me as long as she’s with me. I can’t keep pushing her away,” Joe whispered to himself as he snapped out of the sweet memory and wiped his tears.

2 hours later

It had been two hours since your fight with Joe so it had been two hours since you had last seen him. After going into your bedroom earlier, you spent about 10 minutes crying in the bathroom as you tried to change into some comfier clothes. You felt awful about the whole thing. The way you lost your cool a few times, the way he was talking to you, just everything–it was horrible.

You were currently sitting on the couch, sipping on some water and scrolling through some photos on your phone of the two of you. You let out a small laugh when you came across a silly photo of the two of you at a Hurricane Party you dragged him to at LSU. You remembered he was fully against the idea of going to a party during a hurricane, saying it was ‘batshit crazy’ and a ‘death wish’ but you managed to drag him along with you because you didn’t want him to sit inside and stress about the storm. In the photo, you two were standing on the deck of your friend’s house, the wind blowing so hard against you that Joe’s hat was flying away, and you with the hat you were trying to catch. His hand was tightly gripping onto yours and there were silly, drunk, lovesick smiles on both your faces as you were being soaked from the rain.

“We’re insane,” you sniffled, realizing how batshit crazy it really was to party during a hurricane.

As you were looking at other photos, you heard heavy footsteps coming down the stairs. You looked over at the bottom of the staircase, seeing Joe coming down in comfy clothes and wet hair which meant he showered and came out of his office at some point.

“At least he wasn’t in there for the entirety of these two hours looking at stuff from the game,” you thought to yourself.

Joe met your eyes as he walked into the room, seeing how red and puffy they were which was yet another thing that made him feel like absolute shit. He turned his head away at the same time you turned yours and walked into the kitchen, pulling out a glass from the cabinet.

He started pouring you a glass of water, adding a few ice cubes because he knew you loved to chew on ice after you cried. At first, he didn’t understand the correlation, but then you explained to him that the ice has this cooling effect that can reduce heat and swelling around the face that happens after crying for a while.

He grabbed the glass from the counter and slowly walked over to the couch, standing in front of you and holding the glass out. “Here,” he softly said, his voice just as heavy as yours which told you that he was crying too.

You slowly looked up at him, noticing that his eyes were also red and puffy. He definitely was crying too.

“Thanks,” you quietly say as you take the glass from him, taking a big sip and letting the ice cube float into your mouth.

“At least he remembered the ice,” you thought to yourself, appreciating the fact that he added them.

You start to chew on the ice as you see Joe plop down on the couch next to you, your body freezing up because you remember everything he said to you earlier. You knew he was coming from a place of anger and guilt, but it still hurt. Joe noticed you tense up next to him, because of him, and that felt like a knife to his heart.

You both stayed quiet, staring at the random re-run of an episode of Friends that was playing on TV, but your minds weren’t focused on what was happening in the show. They were focused on each other.

Joe felt his bottom lip start to quiver as his eyes once again pooled with tears, all of his emotions were coming out again. He fucked things up with you so bad tonight that he didn’t even know how to fix it. He hurt you. You were just trying to help him for his own good and he shut down on you. He shut you out. The one and only person that he let into his bubble. The one person he needed in his bubble.

His brain was already crowded with anxiety and fear regarding football, but this was the worst thing out of everything. He didn’t want to go back to that dark place again, he didn’t want to deal with this on his own.

You heard soft sniffles come from beside you so you looked over, your heart shattering again as you saw Joe on the verge of tears, his eyes so red and his lip trembling like he was trying to hold it together.

He didn’t need to hold it together, not around you. You knew that. You needed to make sure he knew that. “Come here,” you whispered to him as you put your arm around his shoulder and pulled him into your chest.

Joe immediately snaked his arm around your waist and rested his cheek against your chest, letting his tears fall from his eyes onto your pink tank top. You wriggled your hand into his frosted tip hair, scratching his scalp and pressing kisses to his head as he cried harder into your chest.

You hated seeing him cry, but you knew he was feeling a lot right now and he needed to get his feelings out and this was the best way for him to do it. “It’s okay,” you soothed as you rubbed his back. “I’m here,”.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m s- so fucking sorry,” he cried harder. “I didn’t mean to yell at you, I didn’t mean to say all of that horrible shit to you. You don’t deserve any of that, you were just trying to help,”.

“I know, baby, I know,” you said, blinking away a few of your own tears. “It’s okay,”,

“No, it’s not okay,” he said. “This is all so fucked up. I fucked everything up,” he sobbed.

“No, you didn’t,” you said to him as you continued to rub his back. “You didn’t fuck anything up, Joe. Everything’s fine,”.

“I did. I fucked up in the game and then I fucked up things with you. Nothing’s fine,” he sniffled.

“Listen, Nothing's gonna hurt you, baby. As long as you're with me, you'll be just fine,” you said to him before pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Like I said earlier, I’m right here. Just talk to me,”.

“...You’re right,” he sniffled, breaking through the mental wall he had built. “You belong in my bubble, I can’t keep you out of it,”.

“So don’t,” you said, pulling him in tighter.

“I’m scared,” he breathed out a few seconds later. “I feel guilty about everything. This game was supposed to be different. I was supposed to be different. I feel like all of this was my fault because I wasn’t as ready as I thought I was. This was my first game back and I played like absolute shit out there,”.

“Oh, Joe,” you said as your face dropped as well as your heart.

“I disappointed everyone. Most importantly, I disappointed you. Even after everything you told me last night, I couldn’t do it. Everything that could’ve gone wrong went wrong and I didn’t do anything to fix it,” he said as a few more tears fell from his eyes.

“You didn’t disappoint anyone, Joe. Nobody expected you to go out there and play like you had a completely normal year. You went through so much with this injury, obviously things weren’t going to go back to normal in one game,” you gently said. “And you could never disappoint me. I told you, I know you. The public doesn’t know you like I do so they’re going to run with whatever bullshit they want as an explanation for why the game went the way it did. I know why things went the way they did, I’m not disappointed in you at all. I’m proud of you for going out there and doing what you did today,” you said as you pressed another kiss on his forehead and moved your hand back up to his soft hair.

“I just feel like I had the shinest wheels, you know? There was so much hype and fire around me when I first got drafted, but ever since then, I’ve just disappointed everyone. It feels like the wheels are rusting. I know what everyone’s been saying, and I get it. I would say the same thing if I was in their shoes. It’s been 5 years of nothing but injuries, slow starts, and coming up short. I feel like I’m falling behind everyone, everyone keeps getting better and I feel stuck. Right now, all of my cages are mental and that’s why I’m scared. If I keep doing this, I’m wasting my potential. I’m stuck as the ‘injury prone’ and ‘wasted potential’ quarterback,” he said, the vulnerability in his voice comforting you because it meant he was letting you in.

“I haven’t done what I promised to do when I got drafted, so why should people believe me when I say that I’m built for this? Why should they believe me when I say that this year will be different? And you know what? They don’t believe me, at least not anymore and I saw that today. They see right through me. Even I see right through me,” he said.

“Can you see right through me?” he asked you, looking up into your soft eyes.

“Yes,” you nodded, his brows furrowing at your response. “Not in that way though,” you added. “I see right through you because I know you. That’s why I knew you weren’t fine the second you walked out of the locker room. Remember, the media, the fans, and the public don’t see through you, they only see the surface level because they don’t know you. They don’t truly know how hard you work, how strong you are, how much passion you really have for this. They’re going to spew whatever bullshit they want because that’s what they do. If they were in your shoes, then they would know why these things happen and the reality of the situation. They can’t see through you, I promise. And as for the not getting better, you’re crazy if you think that. I saw you in practice, your throws have never looked better. You have never looked better, all this muscle and beefiness is a part of getting better. And like I told you yesterday, you control the narrative. You don’t have to be the ‘injury-prone’ quarterback, you can change it. Deep down, you know who you are. Don’t let these trolls and interlopers define you,”.

Joe nodded as he felt his breaths steady out and his tears start to dry up. “I played scared yesterday, and I don’t know why? I thought I was ready, you know? We weren’t supposed to lose that game,”.

“I know,” you sighed. “But you’ve gone through so much these past 5 years, it’s completely normal to be hesitant and nobody should be blaming you for this. Yesterday’s loss wasn’t just on you. You’re on a team, Joe. They didn’t play perfectly either and the blame shouldn’t only fall on you. You’re a piece to the puzzle, a big piece, but not the only piece. The media always wants to pin everything on one person. One thing that I admire about you is how easily you block out the outside noise, don’t change that. Block it out like you always do,”.

“This is game 1 out of 17. Don’t let this define you and don’t let the noise get to you,” you said as you used your thumb to rub the skin underneath his eye, wiping away the wet tear trails.

Joe nodded again, taking in all of the words you were saying to him. You were right, about all of it. He was so in his head about everything and so panicked that he couldn’t use logic and sense to think clearly. This was just one bump in the road as you explained. He had 16 more games to play and 16 more opportunities to show everyone what he’s made of.

“You’re right,” he nodded. “This was one game. I can take this, learn from my mistakes, and get better,”.

“That’s exactly what I like to hear,” you smiled after hearing him work through his complicated feelings. “You’re going to get better. The team is going to get better. If you want to fix the blaring issues, do it with a calm, collected, and cool mind. You’re called ‘Joe Cool’ for a reason. Live up to that name,” you giggled. “Don’t lose your cool, don’t lose your composure over shit like this. I know you feel awful about how things went today, but one bad game doesn’t define a player and doesn’t define the entire season. Things were rough, but you always, no, you will bounce back,”.

“Thank you,” he sniffled against your chest, his brain feeling like it had just been given a nice comfy king-sized bed and cloud-like blanket to sleep in for the night. You were the only person that could make him turn his brain off and he couldn’t thank you enough. “I think I just got panicked after seeing everyone’s reactions and seeing how things looked out on the field plus everything I was feeling yesterday made it worse,”.

“Of course,” you smiled as you gave his head another kiss before holding him tighter against you. “And I get it. Sometimes it feels like the walls are caving in but that’s why it’s always important to talk to someone when you feel that way. Bottling up those feelings only makes it worse,”.

“You're 100% right, Y/N. I’m sorry about earlier,” he said while looking up into your eyes again. “That was so fucking uncalled for. And I’m sorry for raising my voice, I was a dick to you the entire night,”.

“It’s okay,” you smiled. “You were a dick, I agree,” you began to say, earning a laugh from Joe which made your heart smile, “But you’re my dick and I know how to handle you,” you smiled, then quickly furrowed your brows.

“Wait, that doesn’t sound right at all,” you slapped your hand against your mouth after realizing what that sounded like, another laugh coming from Joe’s mouth.

“I know what you mean,” he smiled. “But seriously, everything I said was straight bullshit. You mean the world to me and without you, I really think I would end up in an insane asylum. You’re the single most important thing in my life and I appreciate everything you do for me. Don’t ever leave me alone if I ask you to. Like please, I can’t live without you. Chain yourself to my wrist if you need to,”.

“Noted,” you smiled. “Just don’t freak out on me like that again, okay? You worked so hard this past year to get out of that zone, break free from that dark cloud, and I don’t want to see you back there,”.

“I promise I won’t go back there and if I ever feel like I am, you’ll be the first person I come to. I’m never going to keep you out of the bubble again,” he said as he pressed a kiss to your chest. “I love you,” he said with another kiss to your chest.

“I love you too,” you smiled down at him. “I love you like a lot a lot,” you giggled, echoing what he said to you after his wrist surgery.

“You know, sweet talking and hugs do make everything better,” he laughed as he looked up at you with his child-like smile you loved to see.

“Oh, I know,” you winked. “But you still feel pretty stiff right now. Are you sure you’re 100% okay?”.

“I think it’s just all the tension that I didn’t get to release out on the field. And I guess everything that happened after made it worse,” he grimaced.

“Ah, that makes sense,” you nod, trying to think of a way to help him get his tension out because you knew if he didn’t, he’d be whiny all night about it. “How about some hot, post-loss sex to make you feel better?” you wiggled your eyebrows and asked.

Joe’s eyes jumped up to meet yours as he was a bit taken aback by your straightforwardness. “For real?” he asked as he got up from your chest.

“Mhm, the perfect way to get the tension and aggression out,” you said while licking your lips and giving him a sultry smile.

“I love you, so fucking much,” he growled in your ears before shooting up from the couch, snaking his arms under you, lifting you up, and leading you up to the bedroom bridal style.

“At least the wrist seems to be just fine,” you giggled as he quickly ran up the stairs with you.

Not even 5 minutes later, you two were mostly naked, on the bed, and attached to each other’s lips as if you had never kissed each other before. His lips moved against yours hungrily, signaling that he was feeling that way tonight and that you should brace yourself for what was to come.

You felt him pull away from your lips and start pressing wet, sloppy kisses down your body. “I thought we were getting right to it?” you asked him as you felt his gentle lips on your belly.

“Mmm, I gotta make it up to you first, then we can get to it,” he smiled up at you.

“But I said I-,”.

“Nope. I have to make you feel good first, you deserve it,” he winked before he continued to kiss down your body. You felt him attach his lips to the skin of your inner thigh, rhythmically sucking and biting which would surely leave a mark while his hands crept up to the waistband of your lace panties. He then moved his lips to press a kiss to your clothed core before pulling your underwear down, tossing it to the side, and then flashing you a devilish grin since he saw how you were squirming around on the bed because of the undeniable ache between your thighs.

The next few minutes passed by like a blur and the next thing you knew, Joe’s head was buried deep in between your thighs and your back was arching off the bed. “Joe,” you moaned as you felt him push you back down, the expert swirl of his tongue sending jolts of pleasure throughout your body. “J- Joe,” you whispered, your head falling to the side as your eyes fluttered shut.

Joe couldn’t help but smile into you as he continued to eat you out like a starved man, the beautiful sounds coming from your mouth making his heart happy but also, his dick.

“Mmm, fuck..,” you whimpered as you gripped the silk sheets, tossing your leg over his shoulder and lightly gliding your foot along his muscular back. The sudden touch made Joe groan into your core which sent vibrations throughout your body, your heated touch feeling like fire against his cold frame.

He continued to lap at your drenched folds, all while his hands were tightly gripping your hips and massaging your plush skin. “You’re so fucking good at this,” you whispered with another loud moan following after as you felt his perfect ski-slope nose rubbing against your aching clit.

You placed a hand into his hair, softly pulling on the strands as you pushed him closer to your core and yet another moan came from your mouth. Joe lifted his head out from in between your thighs and looked up at you, “You’re extra vocal tonight,” he smirked, his lips and chin coated with your wetness.

“Shut up,” you whined before you pushed his head back down, a smile appearing on your lips when you felt him attach his lips to your bundle of nerves and flick your clit with his warm tongue. You felt yourself fading away, getting lost in the sensual supernova that was happening down below.

“...Oh my god,” you whined a few seconds later, feeling him thrust a finger into your core which pushed you closer to your orgasm even faster than before. “Don’t stop,” you said while pulling on his hair, your leg lightly wrapping around the back of his neck.

You felt him move his other hand down, his thumb resting on your clit as he rubbed slow circles around the bundle of nerves–this movement made you see stars. The combination of his thumb rubbing your clit, his finger thrusting in and out of your slick core, and his mouth going unhinged was making the imaginary band in your stomach tighten harder than it ever had before.

“I’m close,” you whimpered, your hips gently bucking at the jolt of pleasure moving through your body. “I’m..s- so…c- close,” you whimpered, this time a little louder because his thumb started moving faster around your clit. You then feel him add another finger into your core, your hips grinding against the bed as you search for any form of relief, but the only thing that could relieve you was taking his sweet time.

“Baby, please,” you begged, your eyes fluttering shut as your back arched off the bed again, his fingers rapidly thrusting in and out of your core while you felt a more extreme feeling begging to be released from inside of you. “Oh, fuck,” you moaned, the feeling about to break through in just a few seconds.

Joe curled his fingers inside of your core and moved his mouth back up to your clit, roughly attaching his mouth to the bud and sucking you in a way that he knew drove you crazy. And then just a few seconds later you dropped back down to the bed as you felt yourself tip over the edge, his name falling from your lips like some seductive chant while you came undone. “Joe!” you screamed, tightly closing your eyes and feeling your entire body shake with the force of your orgasm.

Joe looked up through his eyelashes, watching you restlessly move around and hearing breathy moans leaving your beautiful mouth as he lapped at the juices of your intense–still going–orgasm. He was slowly getting more and more worked up as he watched you come apart, knowing he was the only man who had ever seen you this vulnerable and raw and was the only man who was going to see this.

A minute later you open your eyes, your chest heaving as you recover from the intense high that washed over you, “Holy fuck,” you panted as you saw Joe smiling at you, his lips and chin completely covered in your release, his face showing that he somehow enjoyed this just as much as you did.

“Did I just-,” you asked, feeling the soaked sheets below you, as you caught your breath. Your eyebrows shoot up in amusement as you watch Joe wipe his chin with his fingers before using his tongue to lick them clean.

“Yeah,” he chuckled, “You did,”.

“Oh my god,” you said, hiding your face with your hands out of embarrassment.

Joe let out a throaty laugh before kneeling on the bed again and hovering over you, then moving your hands off of your face, “Why are you hiding,” he smiled.

“Because I just…,” you said while biting your lip, his bedroom eyes making you want to pounce on him right that second even though you also wanted to run and hide for some reason.

“What?” he said while trying to hold back his cocky smile. “Squirted?” he asked while moving your hair out of your face.

“You don’t have to say it like that…,” you said while hiding your face again.

After all this time, you still felt shy around him. He’d seen your most embarrassing moments, your best and your worst. He’d seen it all. The fact that you felt embarrassed about this little thing was adorable and another reminder that you were the most precious girl he had ever met.

“Don’t feel embarrassed, babe. It’s not the first time and it’s definitely not the last time,” he softly said while leaning down to kiss your forehead. “I think it was super hot and super sexy,”.

“Really?” you asked while peeking out at him through your fingers.

“Mhmmm. Besides, I’ve seen way worse than this. Can’t forget the time I walked in on you fingering yourself while I was away at practice,” he grinned from ear to ear, as if he was proud that he made you so worked up even when he was away from you.

“Joseph Lee,” you screamed while playfully slapping his bare chest.

“Hey, it was a great show,” he shrugged. “I can still remember the sounds,” he said while clearing his throat. “Oooh, Joe. Ohhh Joe, fuck. Joe, ah… Joey!” he moaned as he mimicked you, all while laughing because he couldn’t be serious about it.

“You know, I don’t have to offer an outlet for you to release your tension,” you shrugged as you started to get up from the bed but felt yourself being caged in by your large boyfriend.

“Ahem, I don’t think that’s how this works, baby,” he shook his head. “Once you put something on the table, you can’t take it off,”.

“Oh yeah?” you teased. “What if I do?”.

“You don’t wanna know,” he whispered in your ear before slamming his thick cock into your dripping entrance with no warning.

“Joe,” you gasped, the sudden feeling of him stretching you out and filling you up so extreme and lively.

“That’s it, baby,” he groaned as he threw his head back, his cock moving at an instantaneous pace. “That’s it…,” he said again but a little quieter while he dropped his head to the crook of your neck, the feeling of your warm walls wrapping around him so intense and special.

“Joe, fuck,” you whimpered as you felt his cock repeatedly slam into your cervix, his body moving against yours recklessly and roughly. His thrusts quickened as he moved deeper and deeper inside you, the sounds of your breathy moans getting louder with each snap of his skilled hips. He sported a euphoric look on his once-tired face, a sign that he felt relaxed and it was all to your credit.

The next few minutes were hot, steamy, and messy as he whispered filthy praise into your ear which matched the pure vulgarity that was happening between you two on the bed right now. His hard thrusts made it difficult for you to hold it together, your nails clawing at his tan back as you bit down on his shoulder and got lost under his touch. “You’re so good to me,” he moaned in your ear, his hand moving up and wrapping around your throat.

“Joe,” you struggled to moan, feeling his grip around your throat becoming a little tighter as the pleasure inside of you was rapidly building.

“Ah, fuck,” he panted as he picked his head up and cupped the back of your leg, and lifted it over his shoulder; this new position opened you up even more and made it easier for him to hit all the right spots inside of you. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whimpered, the sight of his lip in between his teeth and his thick body moving against you making your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“I’m close,” you moaned as you looked down, moaning again at the sight of his shaft rapidly moving in and out of your slick heat.

“Fuck, me…too,” he groaned, his pace getting rougher and rougher as sounds of your skin slapping against each other echoed throughout the room. “I love you,” he moaned loudly once he felt his cock start to twitch inside of you.

“Joe, fuck…please, I need to come,” you whined, his grip on your leg getting tighter.

“I know baby, I know,” he whimpered, “I’m almost there,” he added as he dropped your leg and moved his hand to the headboard, gripping it tightly as he used it as leverage to slam into you even harder. All the tension, all the aggression, it was all coming out in the most fruitful way possible. He was getting away from himself, and it was all thanks to you.

“Ah, fuck,” you screamed, feeling yourself on the brink of pleasure, stars filling your eyes as his pace remained rough and hard.

A few seconds later, you felt him shoot endless ropes of cum into your wet heat which were accompanied by another loud moan from him. “Fuck. Oh fuck,” he panted as he slowed his thrusts into you, making sure that his release stayed inside of you and that you reached your high.

“Joe, please,” you pleaded, needing to feel your high right this second.

“I’ve got you,” he said while giving you a lazy smile, his hand moving down to your clit and rubbing rapid circles around the sensitive bud as he slowed his thrusts even more. A few seconds later, you clamped down on his cock, arched your body up into him, and felt yourself let go for the second time tonight. “Oh my god,” you moaned before you felt him press gentle kisses all along your neck and eventually your face, your lips meeting in a sloppy kiss as your highs washed over you.

A few minutes later, you were both lying against the messy sheets, your head tucked into his chest as he played with your hair and once again apologized to you for how he acted earlier tonight.

“Joe, I promise, It’s okay,” you giggled. “You’ve made it up to me in more ways than one. The fact that I can’t walk right now is an apology enough,”.

“Okay, I’ll stop now,” he smiled. “Thank you for everything though. This and for everything you said earlier,”.

“No need to thank me, baby. I told you, this is my job. We’re in this together and I promise that nothing’s going to hurt you as long as you’re with me. Like I said to you back in November, I’m your protector,” you grinned.

“That you are,” he laughed, his body feeling loose and light under you for the first time all day.

“Thank god he feels better," you smiled to yourself. Joe was the most important thing in your life, having him relaxed, focused, and calm was all you wanted. He deserved all the happiness, success, and love in the world and you needed to make sure he knew that. Moments like this were going to happen all throughout his career, but they were controllable and you were a big reason as to why they were. He wasn't kidding when he said he needed you inside his bubble or he'd end up in the insane asylum. You were his safe haven, his place of tranquility, his calm in the storm.

“I love you more than anything, Joe. Everything's going to be alright, I promise,” you smiled up at him, then leaned in for another kiss before you felt him pull the sheets over you both.

“I love you too, Y/N,” he smiled as he nuzzled his nose against yours and leaned in for another kiss.

–The End–

#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow fic #nfl imagine #joeburrow #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow imagine #Spotify

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afro-hispwriter · 3 months

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My Dornish Love(3)

Aemond Targaryen x Martell!reader

Summary- you and aemond discover you have some common interests

Warnings- mentions of poisoning, some sexual thoughts?

ferronniere- a headband that circles that forehead and will usually have a gem of sorts in the middle(or plain depending on where)

wc- 2.3k

1 2

Aemond waited patiently in the Library. A plate of food and a cup was next to him and a book opened. Another plate was across from him as well as a cup.

The doors pushed open and you came rushing in, starting one of the other maesters. You wore a vibrant violet dress that made Aemonds own violet eye widen. You looked absolutely gorgeous. And the ferronniere really tied it all together.

“Good morrow my prince, I’m sorry I’m late.” You say and pull a chair out and sit down.

“It's alright, and no need for formalities. You called me by my name all yesterday.” Aemond gave you a tiny smirk.

“Yes, but we were around people who don’t particularly care, here in the Keep it is best to keep up appearances.” You lifted your hands onto the table. “Can we eat? I'm hungry.”

“No need to ask, my lady.” You didn’t have to get told twice as you grabbed the biscuit and took a bite. Aemond caught a glimpse of your hand and forearm and he shut the book. “What happened to you?” He pointed at your arms and you looked up at him.

“Oh, I'm alright, it's just me and Thea discovered how much cats don’t enjoy baths.” You laughed nervously.

“Your handmaiden could have done that for you.” He says bluntly.

“It’s alright, I like getting my hands dirty.”

“Hmm. I should get the maester to check them.” He pushes his chair back and you grab his wrist.

“Nonsense, eat first.” He yanked his wrist out of your grip and you drew your hand back.

“It can wait.” He walks past the table.

“No, it can’t, the first meal of the day is very important. Especially for a prince and swordsman such as yourself.” Aemond stopped in his tracks and his jaw tensed.

“They could get infected.”

“I’ve been poisoned before, this is nothing.” Aemond turned around with a shocked look on his face.

“Poisoned?” He sounded intrigued now.

“I can tell you about it if you sit back down and eat with me.” You fluttered your eyelashes at him and he sighed. Aemond made his way back around the table and sat down. He grabbed the grapes and popped two in his mouth. His actions satisfied you and you cut the sausages in pieces. “So when me and Deziel were younger, we snuck into the storage where they keep the poisons because we just wanted to see them, but Deziel being Deziel. He grabs manticore venom and the twat drops it on me. I scream and end up getting cut which lets the venom go into my body.”

“How did your parents react?” You laughed and Aemond dipped his spoon into his oatmeal.

“There was a panic, my body had already weakened by the time they retrieved the antidote. Deziel didn’t see the outside of his room for almost two months, my mother was so angry.” You hunched over in a laugh and Aemond let his face relax and smile. You had such a pretty laugh but then you stopped. Aemond’s eyebrow furrowed in confusion until he remembered.

“I'm sorry.” He says.

“It was a long time ago.”

“And still fresh on your mind.” You huffed and leaned back.

“No need for all this sadness, this is about you so how is your morning so far?” Aemond took a sip of the contents of his cup.

“I trained with Ser Criston and visited Vhagar.”

“I’ve heard stories of how big she is.” Aemond watched a glint in your eye of interest.

“Would you like to see her?” You drew back and your eyes widened.

“I don’t think that's wise.” He finished his last grapes and grabbed his spoon again.

“And why's that, princess? Are you scared?” He looked at you mischievously and you frowned.

“Of course I'm scared, I've never seen a dragon, and what if she knows?” You pouted.

“Knows what?” You sighed.

“That I'm Dornish.” There was a pregnant pause between the two of you. Then you heard it. A tiny little giggle and Aemond’s shoulder moved up and down. You frowned and scoffed. “It's not funny.” Your face burnt in embarrassment.

“What do you think Vhagar would do if she sensed you were Dornish? Eat you?” He asks and you shrug.

“Maybe! Dragons are smart, she fought in two wars against Dorne! My people had killed her own sister in arms.” Aemond kept an amusing look. “You’re mean.” You flicked a blueberry at him, hitting him in the cheek.

“How unladylike of you.” You rolled your eyes. “But at least you know your history.”

“Did you think I was stupid?” You cock your head.

“Not at all, but not many ladies pride themselves on learning these things.”

“Well, there's not much to do on Dorne rather than watch people fight to the death, drink, fuck, and eat. So I have picked up a book and I did pay attention in my classes.” You swirled the contents in your cup and swung a leg over the other.

“Mmm. You should join me for a ride on Vhagar.” Your eyes widened in fear.

“M-Maybe another time.”

“Suit yourself, but I will still send you the proper attire.”

“The riding I know of requires no attire.” You cross your arms and pretend to be annoyed. Aemond let out an airy chuckle.

“In due time princess.”

“Cute. Eat your food Prince Aemond.”

Breakfast was long finished. In the time after, Aemond asked you about Dorne. He wanted to know about it from a native's perspective. He also found joy in hearing you talk.

“As you know it's always hot but here?” You laughed. “I actually had to cover up pretty decently last night but the sheets were quite scratchy, I thought there was a manticore crawling on me.”

“You weren’t scared?”

“I know how to extract their venom so they’re really nothing.”

“Is it true you coat your weapons in venom?”

“Mhmm.”

“How do you do that?”

“To collect the venom we use vials and to hold the creature we would hold them with a large set of tweezers and a small set for the actual venom. For a manticore, the small tweezer would hold the stinger of the tail and you would just squeeze. Then we kill whatever it is and eat it.”

Aemond grimaced at that.

“What? They’re good, you should try one.” He chuckles at that.

“I am sure I will be alright without it.” You put your elbow on the table and pointed a finger at him.

“You’re going to try one.” He gave you a mischievous smile.

“I'm not easily persuaded.”

“We will see about that. Is there anything else you would like to know about, my prince?” You ask and the tips of your shows push against his boots.

“No, I'm sure I have enough information to start a book of my own.” He says with amusement and you scoff.

“Hey! You could have asked me to stop at any time.”

“A simple tease, I enjoy hearing your voice.”

“Fancy me already?”

“Is that a crime?” You shook your head and smiled. The edges of Aemond’s mouth curved up and he looked down.

“How do you feel about the night sky?” You leaned forward.

“I think it’s beautiful, when I ride Vhagar at night I try to get as close as possible to the stars.” There was a glint in his eye the second he mentioned Vhagar.

“I have a book about it in my room, come with me?” You asked and stood up. You held a hand out to him and he pushed his chair back. He walked around the table and he grabbed your hand.

The walk was short and no words were said between you too, but it was not awkward at all. Comforting even.

You opened your chamber door and you let Aemonds hand go. He checked the hallways and when nobody passed he stepped through the door.

You were already bending over to dig into a drawer. Aemond froze and his eye was trained on your ass. He was thankful he wasn’t like Aegon.

“Here it is.” You hold up the brown book and show it to him.

The Mysteries of the Sky by Maestor Elkin

“He has traveled all over the world, he has even gone to The Wall and he reported on these bright lights in the sky.” You say when you open the book to one of your saved pages.

“Fascinating.” Aemond stepped next to you, with hands behind his back, and skimmed over the page you were at.

“He doesn’t know exactly what causes them but he does believe it's the work of the gods. Can you believe if the gods do create what's in the sky, that they share their beautiful creations with us?” You wouldn’t see the smile on Aemond’s face as he solely looked at you.

“I do and they might be too generous at times.”

“Hmm, I think they give us what we need.” You looked up at him by tilting your head back slightly with a smile. Aemonds heart started racing and his cheeks dusted pink.

“We should continue this back in the library.” Aemond starts walking towards your door when a white fluff walks in front of him. She passed along his boots and slid down onto her side. He crouched down and gave the cat some scratches making her purr.

“Or your room.” The cat hissed at you, still very mad about the events of earlier. Aemond looked over his shoulder and his eyes were met with the diamond that was pierced into your belly button. What he would do to just run his tongue along it.

Fuck that stupid (beautiful) dress

He stood up to his full height so he could tower over you.

“If someone catches us-.”

“We are a very anticipated betrothal amongst many. I’m sure they will be more happy that we are getting along than mad that we were alone together.” Aemond couldn’t help but agree.

“Follow me.”

Aemond pushed the door open to his room and he stepped out of the way for you. You walked in and looked at all his furniture and all the paintings.

“It's like everything I imagined. Dark but beautiful.”

“Hmm.” Aemond grabbed a book off his table and sat down in a chair and kicked his feet up on the small table. “Join me?” You gladly sat in the long chair next to his.

“There is more Targaryen heraldry in your room than the rest of the keep.” The painting of a dragon setting ablaze to what seemed like Harrenhall caught your attention.

“That is what happens when the king grows ill and two devout members of the seven take over.” He cracked open his book.

“How is the king? I have not seen him.”

“Dying, slowly.” Aemond really should have said ‘too slowly’.

“I can’t imagine wh-.”

“Not everyone has a relationship with their father as you do.” He cuts you off quickly. “A good one at least.”

You decided not to push forward.

“What are you reading?”

“Political philosophy.”

“Interesting.” You opened your book and kicked your flats off to lay down on the couch. A silence fell over, it was comfortable to an extent. There was a slight tension but you slowly forgot about it as you got deep into the book and your eyes slowly started to droop.

The book clattering on your chest made Aemond direct his attention to you. Book pages were folded on your chest. One hand on your chest and the other dangling. Your head was turned to the side and eyes shut. Aemond chuckled and stood up to a chest that held blankets. He grabbed the softest one and grabbed the book from your chest. It closed on the material of the dress and when he pulled it, the bottom of your breasts exposed themselves.

“Fuck.” He turned away and his cock made a sudden throbbing sensation. Gods, he was acting like a boy again, the mere sight of a woman's body making him hard. He closed his eye and tried to think of anything else.

He tossed the book on the table turned around and quickly splayed the blanket over your body. Aemond sat back in his chair and the material around his crotch down. Reading should make it go down.

You slept until the sun was almost gone. Aemond had finished a couple of chapters and did whatever else he needed to do.

You sat up straight and rubbed your eyes. Aemond shifting caught your attention and you looked back.

“Sorry.” You mumbled and swung your legs so your feet touched the floor.

“Don’t apologize, you’re still tired from your trip. I should be the one apologizing for taking you out so quickly.”

You yawned and stretched, a breeze hitting your nipples suddenly made you very aware that they had slipped out and Aemond had not taken his eyes off them.

“If you wanted to see them, all you had to do was ask.” You teased tiredly and Aemond looked down at his now closed book. “I should get back, me and my brothers are going to see a play in the cities.”

“Then I will see you later, princess.” You stood up and did a curtsy. Aemond frowned at your action but relaxed when you giggled. He even let himself laugh. He did this cute thing where when he laughed his head would shake slightly.

“I hope we continue these meetings, I think something good can come of this.” You say walking toward the door and Aemond stands up to open the door for you.

“I agree, I hope you enjoy the play.” He opens the door and you reach up to kiss his cheek. His face turned pink with affection.

“See you tomorrow Aemond.”

You did not

Comments, likes, and reblogs are always appreciated. I love hearing people’s thoughts🥰

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x martell!reader #my dornish love #ewan mitchell

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mikedfaist · 4 months

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can you do mike w their baby? pleeeeaase😕💘

He is considerably reluctant to hold her for the first time. Petrified, actually. He lets her grip his finger from the safety of her mother’s chest. Before, she was protected by you, nestled inside where all he could feel were her stubborn kicks during her sleepless nights. The same nights he’d stay up with you because he couldn’t fathom resting while you were kept awake. He watches her grimace as a cold burst of air hits her exposed shoulders, and how you instinctively soosh her, kissing her gently on her covered head. It came naturally to you, and he dreaded the thought he wouldn’t be good enough for her.

When he does hold her for that first time, which came quickly after you became noticeably flustered that her father found excuse after excuse to not hold his child, the tears were quick to follow. She was tiny, and incredibly so. 6 pounds 3 ounces feels light as a feather when you can rest it comfortably in one arm. He was mesmerized by her eyelashes, and her fingernails, and how much she looked like her mommy. You were insistent she had his eyes, but he thought she had your everything else.

Dressing her for the first time was a painstaking task. You would have thought your child was made of glass. It took Mike nearly 45 minutes to decide on an outfit for her to go home in because, “Gotta make a good first impression for Austin.”

He drives 10 under the speed limit the entire drive home, and every little bump and pothole has him wincing. “She still asleep, baby?”

When they get home, he demands you go upstairs and rest. (Of course, you weren’t going to argue). He holds his baby girl, snuggled in a blanket his own mother gave her, and gives her a tour around the house.

“This is the kitchen…we make food in here. You won’t have human food for a while—I don’t mean you aren’t human. I know you’re human. I mean big people food—adults. You can’t have adult food for a while—I mean you can have it before you’re an adult—”

“This is the living room…this is where your mom cries when she watches This Is Us. We have strict crockpot rules because of that show.”

“This is our bedroom…this is where you were made.” Mike received a very disheartening scowl. “With so much love.”

“And this is your room…I hope you like it. It took your mom and I weeks to decide on a color. I made you your crib, too. I’m sure it won’t fall apar. I put Austin there and it seemed okay.”

#mike faist #mike faist imagine #mike faist x reader #mike faist talk #i need him as a dad #challengers didn't do it for me #i need more

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daisymbin · 17 days

Text

[21:47] - choi seungcheol drabble

a/n: yes I just posted a mingyu fic like an hour or so ago but I'm having svt brainrot today so I might post a few more today idk 🤷‍♀️

requests open!

check out my masterlist!

"so...." seungcheol starts off as his eyes take in the sight of you. he sees your lips in a tiny pout. your eyebrows are slightly furrowed. your eyes are wandering around the living room, looking and glancing over everywhere and everything, except for him & his eyes. he watches as your fingers fidget with each other, no doubt to calm your nerves and probably to help you think.

"what are you so cocky about? that you've won this stupid game and I've lost?" you bit back sulkily. truthfully, you knew you were being a little too harsh considering the fact that seungcheol hasn't made any sarcastic remarks or any jokes & yet, you couldn't help it. it was a defence mechanism you unknowingly put out because as much as you dont want to admit it, seungcheol was right from the start, he's won this game and you've lost.

the back of his hand rests lightly against the soft of your face before turning his hand to let your cheek rest in his palm as he swipes his thumb across them. "told you I'd make you fall in love with me within 2 months." he said softly as he leaned in slightly. your foreheads now touching and you feel his hot breath on you. "it's not fair, you were being so nice and sweet. who could ever resist you? I was doomed from the start." you answer back; softer this time, admitting defeat.

"life isn't fair, princess, besides, isn't this the best bet you've ever lost?" he asked as he cocks an eyebrow at you. you nod at him lightly, "I guess after all those dates, it's only inevitable. aren't you relieved that all the money & time you invested in me gave you the outcome you wanted?" you teased back; holding eye contact. "you know I'd invest twice, hell, even a hundred times all my money and time on you, my love." his free hand came up to stroke your hair soothingly. you giggled at him as you said "to be honest, I have a confession to make."

"what is it, princess?"

"hmm...I may or may not have already been in love with you before we started this whole....bet.." you admitted as you teasingly bat your eyelashes at him, trying to gauge his reaction. you knew he would never be mad or upset at you over this but still, your confession hangs in the air.

"oh really? is that so?" he chuckled. you decided to tease him more seeing that he was taking it well, "why? do you regret wasting all your time and money on me and all those dates?" you hit his shoulder lightly; a faux pretense of being angry. seungcheol only moved his hands to hold onto your wrists tightly, "don't you know that besides time and money, I've also invested all my love on you? all my time, money & love could never be a waste on you. you deserve every bit of it." only then, does seungcheol finally bring your lips together.

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pucksandpower · 8 months

Text

Something’s Fishy

Lando Norris x sushi chef!Reader

Summary: having a boyfriend who refuses to touch seafood is pretty hard when your whole life revolves around it, luckily you have a plan to fix that

You let out a deep sigh as you stare at the frozen fish sticks sitting on the counter. This is not how you imagined your relationship with Lando would be when you decided to become a sushi chef.

You knew he was a picky eater, but you didn’t realize just how deep his aversion to fish went. Still, you’re determined to slowly open his mind, one tiny step at a time.

“Lando, honey, can you come here for a second?” You call out sweetly.

He wanders in, that charming smile crossing his face when he sees you. “What’s up, babe?”

You sidle up close, running your hands slowly up his chest. “I have a little proposition for you,” you say with a flirty lilt.

His eyebrows raise. “Oh really? I’m intrigued …”

“I know you’re not a fan of fish but I was thinking maybe you could try just one teensy little fish stick.” You reach behind you and grab one, holding it up. “I’ll make it worth your while …”

He frowns slightly. “Babe, you know I don’t do fish.”

You pout dramatically. “What if I gave you a nice long kiss afterwards? To get the taste out of your mouth?”

Lando wavers, clearly tempted. “I dunno …”

Time to turn up the charm. You press yourself against him, looking up with wide, pleading eyes. “Pretty please? It would mean so much …” You flutter your eyelashes.

He sighs, a rueful grin on his face. “Fine, one fish stick. But that better be one hell of a kiss!”

You beam, handing him the fish stick. He eyes it dubiously, then takes a small bite. You watch anxiously as he chews slowly, finally swallowing with a grimace.

“There! That wasn’t so bad, was it?” You say brightly.

“I guess not,” he concedes. “Now, I believe you promised me a kiss?”

You grin and throw your arms around him. “With pleasure!” You give him a long, deep kiss, hoping to make him forget all about the fishy taste.

When you finally pull back, he seems mollified. “Not bad, babe. Not bad at all.”

Maybe this won’t be as impossible as you thought. If you can get Lando to eat one measly fish stick, perhaps you can slowly work your way up to actual fish. After all, Rome wasn’t built in a day.

***

It’s been a few weeks since the Great Fish Stick Challenge and you feel like it’s time to try again with Lando. This time, you’re determined to get him to try some actual fish — specifically, a nice salmon fillet.

You’ve marinated the salmon in a delicious teriyaki sauce, knowing the sweetness will help offset the fishy flavor that Lando hates so much. As the fish cooks, the savory aroma fills the kitchen. Lando wanders in, sniffing the air.

“Mmm, something smells good. What’s cooking?”

You give him your most winning smile. “Oh, just whipping up a little something. Why don’t you have a seat?”

He sits at the counter as you plate up the salmon, along with some chicken fried rice — his favorite. You place the dishes down with a flourish.

“Ta-da! Teriyaki salmon!”

Lando eyes the fish warily. “Baaaabe,” he whines. “You know I don’t do fish.”

You come around behind him, massaging his shoulders. “I know, I know. But remember how well you did with the fish stick? I thought maybe we could try again, move up to the next level.” You kiss his neck teasingly.

“Please? For me?” You purr in his ear.

He shivers a little at your touch. “You drive a hard bargain. I guess I can suffer through a bite or two.”

“Yesss!” You cheer, kissing his cheek.

Lando cuts off a small piece of salmon and pops it in his mouth. You hold your breath, waiting for his reaction.

He chews slowly. “Hmm not bad,” he mumbles through the mouthful. “The teriyaki helps.”

You beam. “I’m so proud of you!”

Lando preens a little at the praise. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t get too cocky — I’m still not sold on this whole fish thing.”

But as you continue to watch him eat, clearing over half his plate, you can’t keep a smug grin off your face. Another victory for you! At this rate, you just may make a fish lover out of Lando yet.

***

This is it — the moment you’ve been waiting for. After the successful salmon dinner, you finally feel ready to tackle the ultimate challenge: getting Lando to try sushi.

You’ve closed the restaurant for the night, so it’s just the two of you. The sushi bar is covered in an array of expertly crafted sashimi, nigiri, and rolls. You’ve prepared Lando’s favorites — cucumber, avocado, tamago. And of course, an assortment of sushi with raw fish.

As Lando walks in, his eyes widen. “Whoa, you really went all out! What’s the special occasion?”

You smile coyly. “I wanted to have a little sushi date night. Just you and me.”

You pat the stool next to you. He sits and you hand him a pair of chopsticks.

Lando eyes the raw fish sushi warily. “You know I’m not gonna eat that, right?”

“Oh ye of little faith,” you tsk. “Haven’t I proved I can get you to try new things?”

You select a tuna nigiri, holding it up enticingly. “I just ask for one little bite. That’s all.”

Lando wavers. You up the ante, leaning in close.

“I promise to make it worth your while later …” you whisper suggestively.

His eyes darken. “Well, when you put it that way …”

Heart pounding, you feed him the nigiri. He chews slowly, contemplatively.

“Huh. It’s … not terrible.”

You want to jump for joy. Instead, you settle for just kissing his cheek. “See? You can handle a little raw fish.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t let it go to your head,” he grumbles, but you can tell he’s pleased.

You spend the rest of the evening feeding each other bites of sushi, laughing together. It’s perfect. And as you gaze lovingly at Lando, you know that somehow, someday, you’ll make a sushi lover of him yet. Patience and persistence are key. But you can be very persuasive when you want to be ...

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gloomwitchwrites · 3 months

Text

Tattoo Artist Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female Reader

Chapter Specific Warnings: oral sex (female receiving), vaginal fingering, unprotected piv (wrap it up irl), multiple creampie, multiple orgasms, brief cockwarming, multiple positions, breeding undertones, talking through it, slightly possessive behavior.

Word Count: 5.1k

A/N: Part Seventeen of Ink & Needle

A/N (2): Thank you to everyone for your patience. With my health issues, I've been trying to write but sometimes it isn't possible. I know this chapter has been a long time coming.

You and Simon finally come together. Simon reveals a few hidden things about himself.

Chapter Sixteen // Chapter Eighteen

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // ink & needle masterlist

Wraith.

That is what you’ve always called him. Even now, with Simon towering over you, he is no longer than lurking danger you sensed in Riot Room. He is still a mystery—still a sealed box with no apparent entry.

But you’re receiving pieces. Little by little you’re starting to build the image that is Simon. Ghost, as you once knew Simon, still lingers in the dark recess of your understanding of him. The picture is incomplete, but it is forming. The film is beginning to show its true nature in the dark room.

The wraith you knew—and the one you know now—are fusing.

Before you, Simon is all hunger. You are completely naked. Bare for him. Legs spread wide for his pleasure. And his gaze is locked to that place between your legs, the one that aches for him and longs to be filled. There is a possessiveness to his stare that heats your blood and sends your bones into vibration.

How are you to survive this man? And why did you run in the first place?

Even now, you witness his need, the starvation. Simon has been depriving himself of you, and you are fully aware of this. The other day when you were in his shower, when you gave him permission to fuck you, Simon resisted.

He was waiting, and now you’re here.

A banquet. A feast. Food for him to gorge on.

Simon’s hands rest on the insides of your thighs. It’s not a harsh touch, though the rest of him is all hard lines. There is no mask. You see Simon for who he is. Blonde hair. Dark eyes with pale eyelashes. A few scars on his face and the ones on his body covered in ink.

Simon is not hiding, and the knowledge of that is enough. It’s trust. And something more.

“You’re so beautiful.”

The compliment catches you off-guard. You’re so absorbed in admiring him that you forgot to listen.

“Thank you,” you murmur, heat rushing to your cheeks in embarrassment. It’s such a silly thing to say in the moment, but it’s all you can muster.

The corner of Simon’s mouth quirks in amusement. His large hands stroke up and then down your thighs absently. The movement is soothing, and you feel your muscles relax beneath his touch. Simon gently squeezes, fingers lightly digging into your skin as he begins to descend to one knee. You watch from between your legs, momentarily paralyzed as he makes himself comfortable. You notice a slight wince, but it’s so brief you might not have caught it if you weren’t paying attention.

From this position, all you can see are Simon’s broad shoulders and thick chest, his strong neck with its blackout tattoo. His blonde hair is a bit messy like he’s been constantly running his fingers through it, but really you were the one grabbing him.

Simon blinks, the middle of his brow creasing slightly. “You still want this?”

He might sound steady but it’s all in the eyes. There is pain there—a hesitation bordering on trepidation. You ran before. Twice now. Perhaps he thinks you’ll slip away again.

“I want you,” is the answer you give, because it’s true. You do want Simon. You crave him like an addiction. A caffeine fix you never want to part with.

All the muscles in his shoulders relax. A calmness appears to settle over him, and though his face is mostly pensive, you notice the small smile that seeks the light. It’s such a tiny thing. A flash of happiness.

His chest heaves, and then his arms snake under and over your thighs, locking you in place. One hand splays wide over your lower belly while the other firmly grips your thigh. There is no escape from him, but you wouldn’t try.

Simon is who you want.

“And I want you,” he replies, voice almost a growl.

He adjusts his hold, pulling you closer to his mouth. Simon’s breath is hot against the inside of your thigh. From between your legs, Simon watches, his lips landing against your skin just shy of his fingers. It’s slow but purposeful, each kiss moving lower and lower to what is clenching—needing him to be inside.

Simon’s lip graze against your pussy, and everything tightens, anticipating the moment he makes contact. The other times Simon has eaten you out, he’s done so with stamina and enthusiasm. Right now, he begins tentatively, the tip of his tongue just grazing your sex.

It’s a tease of a touch. A flash of pleasure that quickly vanishes.

Simon repeats the movement, giving a bit more, sending you squirming in his hold.

“Simon,” you gasp as he lazily runs his tongue over you.

“Fucking love the way you taste,” he says, almost absently.

Your fingers find his biceps the second his tongue returns, stroking slowly. Simon is exploring as if he’s never ventured here before. As if he hasn’t eaten your pussy countless times already.

Your hips want to move. They want to seek out Simon’s mouth. To have the constant pleasure before it explodes into fragments. But you are unable to do much with your lower half. Simon has you locked in, and he’s taking his time.

Each stroke is agony, and yet so fucking satisfying. He gives a little more each time until his tongue flicks back and forth over your clit in a steady pace. The hand splayed on your lower abdomen descends, and you don’t really notice until a finger parts your pussy, sliding inside.

It’s a nice stretch, but insignificant. What you really desire is Simon’s cock. You’ve been craving him, but not how the two of you fucked in Riot Room’s basement green room. There was passion there, but that was between two strangers.

This is different. This is more, and that is all you desire. To be more with Simon.

Simon sucks your clit into his mouth, the tip of his tongue toying it in little circles. Your back arches, hips flexing, but there is nowhere to go. It only shoves you further into Simon’s hold. He growls—almost a warning, like he wants you to quit wiggling.

Your breath comes in short pants, breasts heaving with every inhale. But Simon doesn’t notice. He’s too preoccupied with eating your pussy. Every part of you is tightening, the coil building under pressure. Like floodgates preparing to open, you too are close to bursting.

Simon circles your clit with the tip of his tongue is just the way you need him too, and everything tenses. All the limbs and muscles in your body suddenly clamp, shaking. The exhalation is cut off—choked—before blooming into a depraved moan.

Tension releases, and then you’re truly writhing beneath him. Simon does not cease, his tongue and fingers moving in tandem, stroking so perfectly it’s sending you into overstimulation. You claw at his arms, gasping for breath, wanting to beg but unable to find the words. They keep escaping you, floating off into the air where you cannot catch them.

Your moans grow ever louder, the orgasm pounding through you until you feel it behind your eyes.

“Simon,” you cry, tears beginning to form in the corners. “Please—I can’t. No—no more. No—”

With that one word Simon withdraws, his mouth leaving your sex but not his fingers. Those remain inside you, pumping lazily. His lips and chin are glossy with your wetness, and his eyes are heavy-lidded.

Simon kisses the inside of your thigh. “You good, love? Or can I have a bit more?” He punctuates his questions with a slow, deep thrust of his fingers.

You whimper, nails biting into his skin. Simon leans in and kisses the inside of your thigh again. This time, there is teeth. He bites. Sucks. Soothes with a few kisses.

“Want me to fuck you?” The raspiness in his voice has your pussy squeezing his fingers. He smiles against your skin, as if that alone is an answer.

It is what you want. To be his. To know him as you know yourself. Riot Room was a discovery, but this is a binding. You are giving yourself to him, and he to you.

Releasing his bicep that you’ve been clinging to; you rest your hand against Simon’s cheek. He turns into the touch, eyelids closing briefly as he inhales. Your thumb brushes over his cheekbone as Simon’s lips graze your palm.

“Need to be inside you,” he mumbles, almost absently.

“Simon,” you murmur, voice a caress.

He sighs heavily as if your voice is a soft spring rain. Simon glances at you, those dark eyes all fire, and you see the resolve forming there. He is a pillar. An obelisk. A monument to be erected.

Slowly, he withdraws his two fingers from your pussy. Keeping them together, he opens his mouth and slides those sticky digits over his tongue, sucking them clean. Strong arms release their hold, and then Simon is standing tall, an imposing form before you.

He observes you a moment, the silence stretching under his intense stare. It’s like he’s seeing all of you at once and absorbing the information to commit to memory. Just as it feels too much, and your heartrate kicks up, Simon reaches out, grabbing you by the neck.

It is not a cruel touch. It is possessive. Using that leverage, Simon draws you up to a seated position. His lips find yours, and you taste yourself on his tongue.

Simon whispers your name and you reach out, your palm splaying wide over his tatted pectorals.

“First time is for me,” he says, voice breathy. Simon presses his forehead against yours. “Might be a bit rough.”

“It’s okay,” you reply. “You won’t hurt me.”

Simon hums low in his throat. “Not worried about that. I’d never hurt you.” He goes in for another kiss and this one completely steals your breath. “Second time is all for you. Promise.”

“Take what you need, Simon,” you murmur, running your fingernails gently over his skin.

He shivers, and then grabs your wrist, drawing it away from his chest. “On your hands and knees, love. That’s how I want you.”

Simon’s hands fall away as he shifts back. You hesitate for only a moment, the anticipation pooling in your belly. Slowly, you twist, planting yourself firmly on your hands and knees, presenting your backside to Simon.

You expect his hands to be on you immediately, for him to grab and devour. Instead, Simon’s fingers are whispers against the backs of your thighs. They explore upward, traveling over the curve of your ass to settle at your lower back. Lightly pressing, you submit to his silent instruction, arching your back and pushing your ass into the air. Tucking your legs together, Simon grasps your hips, guiding them up a bit higher.

One hand falls away while the other stays. Behind you, you hear the clink of his belt buckle, of leather brushing against denim, the sound of a zipper. You’re propped up only be your knees and forearms. Fingers digging into the bedding, you wait in wanton anticipation.

When Simon’s hands return, there is no gentleness in the touch. No sensitive love. He is hungry, and his hands speak to that. They both grab hold of your ass, squeezing—almost painfully.

You gasp, only to choke when Simon swipes his tongue over your pussy. He pauses at your entrance and then delves inside, curling the tip to run along your inner wall. Simon fucks you with his tongue, stroking repeatedly until your press your face against the bed and groan aloud.

Simon consumes, and you’re so lost in it that when he ceases tasting you, you don’t realize that it’s no longer his tongue but the head of his cock. He keeps a firm hold on your ass, the head beginning to push in.

At first there is resistance. Simon has your legs pressed together, creating a tighter space for him. It’s silly, really. He doesn’t need it, but fuck does it feel good.

“That’s it. Breathe. Good girl.”

Simon pushes in a bit more and the stretch short-circuits your brain. You don’t remember Simon being this large at Riot Room. You needed patience then, but this is beyond simply breathing through it. You’re being cracked open, split in two, cleaved.

“Breathe,” soothes Simon, stroking one hand up and down your spine. “You’ve taken me before.”

Whimpering in answer, you try to steady your breathing. Simon waits until your next stable exhale. He slides in a bit more, and your toes curl.

“Doing so well, love. Breathe for me again. That’s it.”

With another a steady breath, and some help from Simon, he seats himself entirely inside you. This angle is overloaded. You’re stretched to a point you didn’t think you could reach, and Simon hasn’t even started to fuck you yet.

You reach behind you—seeking him. Simon grasps your hand and he squeezes it before bringing to up to his mouth for a quick kiss against your knuckles. He gently releases your hand, and you bring it back to the bed.

Simon smooths both hands up and down your back before they settle. They find a home on the curve of your ass. Again, Simon grabs hold, and using this grip, slowly slides you up the length of his cock until just the head is inside.

The drag is slow. Languid. A beast with sharp teeth wanting to fill its appetite.

“Oh fuck,” you murmur into the bed, your walls fluttering slightly.

“Fuck,” groans Simon, the vowel elongating slightly.

With that same searing hold, Simon slams you down his length until your ass bounces against his pelvis. He repeats the motion, sliding slowly upward before bringing you back down on him again.

“Fuck,” you whisper into your forearm, because it’s all you can utter.

The stretch is unrelenting, and the angle hits deep, penetrating to a place that has your senses tingling with frenzy.

Simon creates the movement again, but this time the retreat isn’t slow. He sets a pace, bouncing you up and down his cock. With the position you’re locked into, all you can do is dig your fingers into the bed and take it.

He said he’d be rough, that this first time is for him, but it’s not painful—and it doesn’t scare you. If anything, it is primal—lustful. A deep root sinking further to make a home in the earth.

Simon is claiming your body in the way he needs to, and you accept this gladly. If he needs to fuck you like this, you’ll take it. Every time he buries himself inside you, he hits deep, treading toward pleasure.

Penetration alone won’t get you there, but these movements are enough to take you somewhere, and right now, you’re spinning. Clinging. Holding on with all your strength as if that will somehow ground you in the moment.

You’re not sliding across the bed. Simon’s hold on you is too firm. But your upper-half is slipping—melting like a late spring snow.

His grunts behind you are low, coming from somewhere deep within his body. With a slight twist, you dare a look back.

Simon’s head is dipped back in ecstasy, lids shut, jaw clenched. All the muscles in his arms, chest, and stomach flex with every thrust. He looks like a god—a fallen angel. Lucifer himself reborn from the ashes, and the ashes are the ink that marks his body.

One of his hands slide up to grasp your waist, and this hold is more intense. You gasp—choke, rest your forehead against your bicep as Simon continues to fuck you relentlessly.

Time is fleeting. You are lost to the rhythm of his pace, of the tight stretch and the sweat the blooms on your skin.

It is Simon squeezing your ass briefly and promptly withdrawing that brings you back to awareness. You don’t feel sticky between your legs. He did not come. But your confusion turns to sudden pleasure as Simon’s mouth returns to your pussy.

It’s just a few quick strokes of his tongue, and then Simon is flipping you onto your back, dragging you to the very edge of the bed. With one hand, he pushes your left leg wide, and with the other, Simon brings your right leg flush against his front, ankle at his shoulder. He hooks his arm around the leg against his chest, creating an anchor. His free hand rests against the inside of your thigh.

Once you’re in position, Simon returns to your pussy, keeping the same pace as before.

His shoulders are a bit hunched, body leaning forward slightly as he drives forward and back, skin smacking against skin. Other than that, it’s just your breathing and his, and the slick sound of your pussy taking him.

This time you’re free to writhe against him. The bed is not enough. You need to feel his skin.

Reaching out, you try to grasp for anything. What you receive is tenderness. The hand on your thigh disappears, and Simon snags your seeking hand, trapping it against your pelvis. But it’s not a rebuttal. It is not a refusal.

Simon is holding your hand, fingers intertwining.

“Look at me,” he growls, his hips stuttering slightly. You glance up. Make eye contact. It is brief. Fleeting. You are unable to hold his gaze. “Fuck, love. Look at me.”

Your eyes snap open, and Simon grinds his hips against you.

“I want to look into your eyes when I come inside you.” His chest heaves. “Don’t look away.”

You don’t. Never. You hold his gaze as Simon’s pace becomes a hurried, frenzied thing.

Simon groans, eyelids fluttering, and then he’s holding himself flush against you. You feel it then—his release. Your pussy is overly full, and you don’t care at all.

Simon’s breathing is deep, shoulders heaving slightly with every breath. At first, he seems a bit dazed, but then he smiles, and your heart flutters at the sight. After all of that, and he’s still holding your hand.

Without speaking, he brings that hand up to his mouth, pressing his lips to your fingers before bringing it back down to the bed. Simon finally releases them, placing his hand back on your inner thigh.

He does not withdraw. Simon stays inside you.

“Give me a couple minutes,” says Simon with a shaky breath. His hand on your thigh meanders inward, and then his thumb brushes over your clit.

The touch is a shock, and your pussy reflexively clenches around him, all the muscles in your abdomen tensing slightly.

Simon grunts when you squeeze around him, and then chuckles. “We’ll get back to it.”

“You want a second round?” you ask, breathless.

You hardly did anything and yet your limbs feel like rubber.

“Not up for it?” he replies, a cheeky expression on his face.

You roll your eyes and Simon’s deep laugh makes you grin. “Fuck you, Simon.”

“If you insist,” he croons, rocking his hips slightly.

“Stop,” you groan, even as Simon continues to rub your clit.

You begin to squirm, and Simon eases your leg back to the bed. He shifts again to accommodate it, and that one movement sends a bolt of pleasure up your spine.

“Said I wasn’t done with you.”

“I know,” you mutter as if this displeases you. It doesn’t. You do want more, even if your limbs ache.

Simon ceases playing with your clit and returns to stroking your inner thigh. “You good?”

You nod, and reach for him again. Simon accepts the touch.

The two of you linger there for a few minutes before Simon slips from your pussy with a gentle moan. His gaze falls to the place between your legs, and you feel his cum dripping out. Simon is transfixed, staring intently at your pussy before his gaze sweeps to your face.

“Let’s worry about you now.”

With effortlessness, Simon drags you into a seated position before drawing you into his arms. You instinctually wrap your arms around his neck as Simon turns to sit on the bed. He shifts backward, coming to rest against the old headboard. Adjusting you in his lap, Simon puts you into a seated position, your back to his chest, legs open to the room and draped over his slightly bent legs.

His hands caress over your body.

Abdomen. Breasts. Throat.

Simon leaves nothing untouched. He is so gentle—so careful with you. His face presses against your temple, and he sighs as if this is his happiest moment. You snuggle further against him, matching his sigh, allowing your head to rest against his shoulder.

Hands delve. Ascend.

Simon brings one up to the front of your throat while the other sinks between your legs. He goes right past your clit to press two fingers into the mess.

“Mine,” murmurs Simon, pressing a chaste kiss to your temple.

Lazily, Simon moves his fingers in and out of your pussy. The palm of his hand rubs against your clit. The swirling, coiling sensation begins to build again. The back of your head presses against Simon’s shoulder. You reach up and snake your arm to the back of his neck.

“Lift you hips for me, love.”

The instruction is delivered with a sultry purr. You do not hesitate. Simon’s fingers slip from your pussy and in their place is his cock. He slides home and you moan aloud.

“Feel so good,” he says softly, rocking his hips, creating a sleepy rhythm. “Made for me.”

Simon’s hand tightens around your throat while the other settles over your clit. Like his hips, Simon rocks slowly, moving the two in tandem with the other. There is no exertion or need to find the finish line.

There is only you and him pressed together.

The fire in the hearth burns low, creating long shadows in the room, and hardly reaching the bed.

Simon’s head tilts slightly, and with his hold on your throat, he guides your face to him. You already know what he wants, and the kisses that follow are just as slow and lazy. Without rushing, you could stay like this forever. Even your orgasm blooms with the gentleness of pressed linens after a wash.

By the second orgasm, Simon’s hips begin a steady thrust, bouncing you lightly in his lap. Like this, he still does not stop kissing you—still doesn’t remove his fingers from your clit. Every touch and stroke are pushing you over the edge until you entirely melt into him.

He understands. He does.

Simon’s thighs tense beneath you, and his kisses pause. You gasp, wanting him back, and Simon dives in, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth as he finishes inside you.

Simon releases your lip, goes in for one more kiss. This one is deep—a claiming.

He eases you off his cock, some of his cum slipping out in the process, and then helps you settle into the bed.

“Come here,” he says softly, sinking down onto his back beneath the sheets, arms open and waiting.

You crawl into him, snuggling close, inhaling his scent. It wraps around you and fills your lungs. Peace sinks into your skin, your veins, and the marrow in your bones. It is all you know. All you aspire to be.

You are safe here in Simon’s arms.

His lips brush against your forehead and you snuggle in a bit closer, gently stroking your hand over his chest. Your eyelids are heavy, and you’re not really looking at him, but your fingers wander, traveling over his skin, tracing lines and circles in a languid fashion.

“That’s nice,” he says, voice gruff.

“I’ll keep doing it then,” you reply, pressing a kiss to his ribs before returning to your task.

Beneath the ink are divots and rises. They are scars—this you already know—but you’ve never really touched them or even asked about them. You don’t believe that it’s your place to do so. With Simon, you don’t want to push. You want him to come to you.

From his chest, you move to the furthest part of his shoulder. His entire are and most of his shoulder is a blackout tattoo, and beneath it is a rippling map of scaring that stops near his elbow. Still, you do not question, but you give this part of him just as much attention as the rest. You don’t want him to think you’re avoiding it.

“They’re burn scars,” he says, voice a bit flat.

You lick your lips, deciding it’s best to say what you’re thinking. “Can hardly tell with the ink.”

It’s true. It mostly blends in. If anything, it adds an interesting texture. Someone glancing at it might think it’s a creative choice before they thought it was burn scars.

Simon sighs and then glances up at the ceiling. He grasps your wandering hand and brings it to his mouth, kissing your open palm before returning it to where he took it from.

You do not keep tracing. You keep your hand still.

“Got it while I was in the military.”

This you already figured out. His military career is still a bit of a gray area between you. Simon briefly addressed what he did, that he was essentially special forces, but he didn’t elaborate, and you didn’t press him then either.

But you were the one asking. British Intelligence came inquiring about Archie to his family, and you thought Simon might have some insight you could use to figure out if you should worry or not. It does still bother—still wiggles at the back of your mind like a blind worm.

“Before or after Riot Room?” you ask hesitantly, unsure if this is this the route to go.

Simon blinks a few times in rapid succession, still staring at the ceiling. “After.”

He does not elaborate and you do not press. You curl up tighter against him, snuggling into the crook of his arm. Simon shifts, his arm draped under and over your back tightening. He pulls you in, and leans in for a quick kiss on your forehead.

“It’s why I tattoo now.”

You frown. “They kicked you out for burns?”

The question comes out quickly, and you inwardly chastise yourself for it. You’re digging around.

Even with the knowledge you do have, that doesn’t sound right. If someone is able-bodied, and they’re psychologically okay, why would they turn him away? It doesn’t make sense.

“No,” he says, and you hear the sadness in his voice.

Whatever the memory, it’s a painful one. Still, you do not seek out more answers. This isn’t a place for you to run around in without his consent. It doesn’t mean you don’t want to know. You do. You want Simon to open up about these things, to reveal these pieces even if they are mere fragments of understanding.

“But you have your shop now,” you reply, deciding to divert the conversation elsewhere. You return to running your fingers over his skin.

Simon’s smile returns—a genuine one. Even the tips of his cheeks gain a pinkish hue. “I do.” He turns his head so he can look at you. “And you.”

You laugh and start to roll onto your back, but Simon draws your right back to him, grabbing the nape of your neck to bring you in for a kiss.

It is sweet and passionate.

A lover’s kiss.

Wraith.

But perhaps not a wraith any longer. That name could be set aside.

There is nothing hellish about him, and the danger you sensed all those years ago is simply a part of him. A history of violence you don’t entirely know yet but would like to understand if it brings you closer to him.

Those burdens shouldn’t just be on his shoulders.

Simon’s kisses become soft again. Lazy. You linger in the moment, seeking a few more before deciding to ask the next question.

“Are you done with me tonight?” you ask, fingers lightly grazing the line of his jaw. You catch your index finger just under his chin, drawing him back for another quick kiss.

“Could be. Up to you,” he answers, a bit of that heat returning in his gaze.

“Up to me?” you respond, one eyebrow arching in question.

Simon goes in for another kiss, and this time he pushes you onto your back. Your legs naturally part of him, and Simon settles between as if the two of you have done this countless times before.

He keeps his hand on your neck, but his kisses do not abate. They become deeper—hungrier. Incessant and insistent. Your lips part and Simon’s tongue delves inside. You suck on it. Release. Pull a guttural groan from him.

“If it were up to me,” he rasps between kisses. “I’d fuck you all night and into the morning.”

His words send a spiral of pleasure to your core. Your thighs quiver and then tighten around his hips.

“I don’t believe you,” you reply when you finally have a chance to catch your breath.

Simon presses his pelvis against your sex and his hardness is all the answer you need.

“You’re insatiable,” you giggle as Simon teasingly nips at your bottom lip.

“Only for you,” he coos, his teeth finally making a bit of contact.

Heat rises to your cheeks and floods your body. This softness is nice and you want to stay like this. Just the two of you in this old cottage.

“What’s the plan, Simon?”

“Plan?” he mumbles, head dipping so that his lips can nip and kiss along your collarbone.

“Are we staying like this the whole time?”

Simon nods. “You’re not leaving this bed,” he says against the curve of your breast.

“What if I have to pee?”

“Allowed.”

You snort. “To eat?”

“Of course.”

The tip of Simon’s tongue brushes over your pebbled nipple.

“What if I want to go outside? Breathe some fresh highland air?”

At this question, Simon gently bites, pulling a little gasp from you. “I’ll open the fucking window so you can look outside.”

“Simon,” you hiss, smacking the side of his chest.

His head lifts, those brown eyes of his piercing you like a spear. “I want you to myself for a bit.”

I want you to myself for a bit.

There is a desperate tone to his voice that worries you, but you dismiss it.

It’s nothing, and you are with the man you care for the most.

Your fingers slide over his cheek and then thread through his hair. Simon shifts forward, finding your lips again, and you open for him.

He can have you alone.

He can have you just to himself.

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iiwontgiveuponmilkk · 11 months

Text

Subspace | F.W.

summary: *requested* she spent the day purposefully teasing him and getting on his nerves with only one thing in mind. fred fucks her into subspace and takes care of her, she got a little more than she bargained for, not that she's complaining.

word count: 2075

warnings: straight smut, dom!fred, teasing, some fluff, okay honestly it's straight filth

notes: so excited to have a request after such a long time! may change the gif, can't find the right one... also may update this one again, it feels a little short

minors dni. 18+.

masterlist

She was driving him mad, absolutely mad. She waltzed into the shop around noon that day to bring him his lunch. The lunch he would have never forgotten if she hadn’t decided to tease him from the moment she woke up. She decided to join him in the shower this morning, wrapping her arms around him from behind. He thought it was cute at first, then she was gripping his cock in her hand. She waited until a groan fell from his lips before she released him and slid out of the shower. He had turned, reaching out to grab her and pull her into him, but she had managed to slip just out of his reach. He went through the morning frustrated, thinking about what he would’ve done if he wasn’t already running late that morning. And here she was now, a tiny little skirt on that was barely longer than his jumper that she wore. His eyes drug up her body, finding her smiling innocently at him when he met her eyes, batting her eyelashes at him. “I brought your lunch, seems you forgot it this morning, Freddie.” She handed him the small bag, a blush on her cheeks. He grabbed her arm as she turned to leave, pulling her against him. “And what are you up to now, love?” He whispered in her ear, nipping her earlobe. “N-nothing, just making sure you eat today.” She smiled, trying to hold her composure. She gave him a sweet smile, distracting him as her hands moved to his waist. Her fingers hooked under his belt, pulling him against her. She rested her chin on his chest, looking up at him. “You might want to eat that alone.” She bit her lip, a mischievous look twinkling in her eyes. His hand snaked around her waist, “and why is that, love?” The way he looked at her sent a shiver up her spine. She was sure he would take her right here and now if the shop wasn’t full. She let her fingers ghost over his growing bulge. “You’ll see.” She pressed a quick kiss to his lips, wiggling out of his grasp and leaving just as quickly as she came in.

Fred had left a few minutes early, telling George he would close up tomorrow. He had stormed into her flat, finding her cooking dinner. “Oh, hi love.” She grinned, her smile slightly falling as he stalked over to her. “I see you’re still playing your little game.” He shook his head, looking her over. The skirt from earlier was gone, leaving her in just his jumper. He pulled something delicate and lacy out of his pocket, dangling it on his finger. “Did you misplace these? Hmm?” He raised a brow, watching her bite her lip. “I-” She started, only for him to cut her off. “You what, love? You just wanted to tease me all day, is that it?” His hands were on her hips, lifting her onto the counter. His hands slid over her thighs, pushing her legs apart. A whine left her lips as he drug a finger through her folds. “Have you been this wet all day? Just waiting for me to come home?” The only answer that came from her was a moan as he slid a finger into her. “I really shouldn’t be rewarding you.” His voice low as he thrusted his finger into her, slowly working in a second. She rocked her hips forward, trying to get him to go faster, to give her more. “Freddie, please.” She whined as he pulled his fingers out of her. “Not a chance, love.” He lifted her off the counter, gently pushing her down on her knees. She looked up at him as he removed his belt, unbuttoning his slacks. She slid her hands up the front of his thighs, her fingers grasping the waistband of his slacks and boxers, tugging them down. His hand wrapped around his dick, giving it a slow pump. His other hand ran through her hair, grasping a fistful of her hair at the back of her head. She wet her lips, looking up at him. Fred gave a quick tug on her hair as she slid her hands up his thighs. Her left hand gripped his thigh as she spread her fingers. Her other hand wrapped around his dick. She ran her hand up his length, brushing her thumb over the tip. Fred reached out, lifting her chin to pull her gaze back to his. He brushed his thumb over her bottom lip. “You look so good on your knees for me, baby.” He smirked, gently pushing her head forward. She parted her lips, taking his tip in her mouth. A small groan came from him when she swirled her tongue around him. Her hands came to rest on his thighs when she started to move. He let her go at her own pace, but soon realised she was still teasing him. The slow strokes of her tongue and shallow movements, and the look in her eyes when she looked up at him. He grasped her hair tighter, thrusting his hips forward. The moan that fell from her lips as he fucked her mouth made his head fall back. He pulled her off of him when he felt himself getting close. His fingers left her hair, grasping her chin gently as she stood. He leaned down, capturing her lips in a hungry kiss. She tangled a hand into his hair, the other grasping his shoulder. His hands slid down her body, grasping the back of her thighs as he lifted her. She wrapped her legs around his waist. He nipped her bottom lip before swiping his tongue along it. She parted her lips, her tongue brushing against his.

She gasped when Fred dropped her onto the bed. She pushed herself up on her elbows, looking up at him. “Are you ready to behave?” He looked down at her, holding her gaze as she nodded. He shook his head as he began to unbutton his shirt. “Use your words, princess.” He slid his shirt off, watching her as she pulled his jumper over her head. “Yes.” She reached out for him as he moved over her. He used his knee to push her legs apart, his eyes dragging up her body. “Look at how wet you are for me.” He smirked as he got to his knees at the edge of the bed. He grabbed her ankles, yanking her down until her hips were at the edge. He pressed a kiss to the inside of her thigh, nipping the skin before he moved down her leg. She watched as his mouth moved closer to her pussy. Each nip seemed harder than the last. Her head fell back when he pressed his tongue to her clit. His name fell from her lips when he plunged two fingers into her. She felt herself getting closer, then he dragged his teeth over her clit. She yelped at the feeling, her eyes rolling back when he sucked her clit between his lips. He curled his fingers, her toes curled, a moan leaving her lips as she clenched around his fingers. He pulled his fingers from her, he looked up at her as he pushed his fingers into his mouth. Her cheeks heated at the sight, causing him to smirk. He climbed over her as she scooted up the bed. She leaned up, kissing him. She pulled him down as she laid back on the bed. “You’re in for it, love.” He pressed a kiss to her neck, sucking a mark into her skin. “You’ve had me thinking about being inside of this pretty little pussy all day.” He gave her no warning as he sank into her. He tangled his fingers into her hair at the back of her head, yanking down. Her fingers dug into his shoulders as he thrusted into her. She gasped when he nipped at her collarbone. He maintained a tight hold on her hair. The pleasure mixed with small kisses of pain was starting to overwhelm her. Her nails dug into his skin when she felt the warmth building in her stomach. She moved her hips to meet his, trying to reach her orgasm. Fred kissed her hard, biting her bottom lip. He pressed his forehead to hers as she came, lewd moans falling from her lips.

He flipped her over, pulling her hips up so she was on her knees. His hand moved up her back, pushing her chest down to the bed. She turned her head, reaching to move her hair out of her face. Fred grabbed her hands, pinning them above her head as he leaned over her. “Let go, love.” He whispered in her ear, rubbing his tip through her folds. She whined, pushing her hips back when she felt his tip at her entrance. He let go of her hands, leaning back. She gasped when his hand collided with her ass. His palm smoothed over the red handprint. “What did I say, princess? Let go, let me take care of you.” She gasped as he slammed into her. “F-Fred.” She moaned, “I-i.” Her words lodged in her throat as her breath hitched. He slammed into her relentlessly. She knew what she was doing earlier, teasing him. She just wanted him to come home and fuck her over the counter. But this? This was even better than that. She yelped when his hand came into contact with her ass again. He smoothed his hand over her hips, digging his fingers as he pulled her back against him to meet his thrusts. Her legs were shaking, she wasn’t sure she could take anymore. He leaned down, wrapping his arm around her chest, pulling her up with him. His fingers wrapped lightly around her neck as her back arched. She whimpered with each thrust. He pressed his fingers into her pulse point, her head falling back onto his chest. He glanced down at her, noticing her mouth fall open. She reached up behind, tangling her fingers into his hair. He slid his other hand from her hip and between her thighs. He used his fingers to circle her clit. “Look at you, taking me so well.” Fred groaned, giving her a hard thrust. Incoherent babble fell from her lips as her free hand gripped his arm that was pressed across her chest. He could feel her clenching around him, he pressed his fingers harder into her clit. She whimpered when she finally came, the feeling almost too much. Her fingers tugged at Fred’s hair, her eyes fluttering shut. Her fingers slowly slid from his hair as she started coming down from her orgasm. His hips snapped against hers, a groan leaving his lips when he came. She moaned at the feeling of him spilling into her, clenching around him again. He kept thrusting until she was trembling as she came again. She mumbled something incoherent again as her body relaxed against him. She was putty in his hands, if he let go of her, she would fall to the bed. He gently laid her down on the bed as he pulled out of her. He laid down next to her, rolling her over and pulling her into his side. He smirked when he noticed the dazed look on her face. He smiled to himself as he realised what state she was in. She curled into him, laying her head on his chest. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, holding her

“Hey, love.” Freddie whispered, dragging his fingers up her arm. “Mm?” She hummed, nuzzling her face into his chest. He chuckled, pressing a kiss to her head. They laid in silence for a while as he held her. Her fingers traced paths between the freckles on his chest and stomach. “What are you doing down there?” He asked quietly, being patient with her. “I’m naming the stars.” She mumbled, moving her head to look up at him. A lazy smile graced her lips as she looked up at Fred. He brought his hand up to her cheek, tracing a finger under her cheekbone. “You want to take a shower?” He asked, holding her soft gaze. She shook her head gently, pulling herself closer to him. She nudged his chin with her nose, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw. He pressed a soft kiss to her lips. A soft sigh escaped her lips as he brushed his nose against hers. She brushed her lips against his, biting her lip as a small smile formed on her lips. It didn’t take long for her to shift so she was laying on top of him. He lightly drug his fingertips up her spine.

“Freddie.” She mumbled, lifting her head to look at him. “Yeah, love?” He asked, turning his head to look at her. “Can we take a shower now?” She asked, giving him a small pout.

#imagines #one shots #harry potter #one shot #harry potter one shots #iiwontgiveuponmilkk #harry potter imagines #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley #fred weasley imagines #fred weasley smut #fred weasley one shot #george weasley x reader #george weasley oneshot #george weasley

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yuyusboyfriend · 1 year

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i’m no writer but i’m always having massive amounts of brainrot so may i offer the idea of professor!yunho and student!reader,, yk, the whole reader can’t focus in class bc prof jeong is just so hot and he catches on but doesn’t do anything about it until they’re actually on the brink of failing the class so he calls them up to his office and then the rest is history

im sorry im a sucker for power imbalances hides back in my corner

Oh my god. Professor Yunho brain rot is so real. THANKS SM ANON FOR THE ASK🫶

Meet me after class.

pairing: professor!yunho × reader

wordcount: 2,6k

warnings: aged up Yunho (late twenties +), reader early 20s, non idol au, afab reader (use of words cunt, clit, pussy - no mentions of chest), dom!Yunho/sub!reader, use of pet names (baby, star, sweetheart, tiny,) use of Sir, cunnilingus (pussy, once again, ate), rough sex, LOTS of praise, yunhos a sweetheart, also a beast iykwim, lmk if theres anything else

Masterlist!˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Every single day you attended classes like the exemplary student you are. You've always had decent enough grades, whether you honestly liked the lesson or just crammed the last second before exams; you've never "flopped" as your friends would say. It stayed this way until you started taking classes taught by the most stunning man you'd ever seen in your lifetime, Professor Jeong Yunho. When you walked into class for the first time 30 minutes early to claim your seat, you had already been beaten to the front rows by numerous other students. Weird, you thought, most people flock to the other end of the classroom—until you saw the professor arranging his papers at the front of the small lecture hall.

You stood frozen on the steps, staring at the older man. His obsidian-black hair fell just above his eyes, moving against his batting eyelashes as he concentrated on whatever he was reading at his desk. His discarded blazer is on the back of his chair, giving you a full view of his toned back and rounded shoulders in his white dress shirt. You're pretty sure your underwear was already ruined once you looked at his rolled-up sleeves, seeing his muscled forearms tensing while he fiddled with his silver rings. You felt relieved seeing no wedding ring though.

His dark eyes scanned the class as he noticed more students flooding through the lecture room doorway, pausing once they landed on your awestruck figure. His deep gaze was what finally broke you out of your trance, forcing your legs to start walking towards your seat, as near to the front desk as you could get. You made a mental note to arrive earlier next time, even if you had to sit between 20 other thirsty students trying to get time with the professor.

You found that Jeong Yunho's class wasn't impossible (on top of his good-looking self, he was a profoundly competent teacher), but it also wasn't for the weak who only came to eye up the man teaching. That being said, the class dropped from seventy-odd students to 40 in the first few months, and the way your grades were going, you were next in line.

Every class, Professor Yunho would drag his eyes over your form as you tapped away on your laptop, making your stomach quiver and your head dazed. As more students left, he gave the remaining more attention, walking around to see if anyone needed help.

"Y/n? How's your work going?" he spoke over your shoulder just above a whisper to not distract anyone else in your area. His knuckles brushed against your back accidentally while gripping your chair, sending involuntary shivers across your body. You begged the man hadn't noticed how your body reacted to him just being in your vicinity for your self-preservation. He had. He always sensed your gaze on him while he was teaching; you weren't very secretive about it either, seeing as everyone else was looking down, typing out his words.

"It's- I'm good! I mean the work, not me. It's fine." You stumbled over your words, scared to see his expression at the fool you just made of yourself. You were stunned to see the corners of his mouth turned upwards, slightly eyes soft looking back at you. A simple smile from him managed to rip the air from your lungs so effortlessly.

In the short months that he had been your teacher, you became infatuated with the man. When you weren't in his classes, all you could think about was him. You wondered what he had for breakfast, what he was wearing today—although, not much was left to the imagination as your friends snapped pictures of him crossing campus and sent them to you. It annoyed you that they would do it without his consent, yet you still saved every photo to the locked collection on your phone. Not to mention your dreams lately; God, as if your mind wasn't a powerful enough tool to daydream with, your dreams went above and beyond; You'd wake up and need to hop in the shower from the mess you had made in your sleeping state.

The current reoccurring dream was you bent over his desk, his hand on the back of your neck and his hips ramming into yours. He grunted as he kept up his relentless pace. You found yourself almost drooling at the reminiscence of it again, looking around to see if anyone had noticed. You sat in the campus café, trying to refine your most recent assignment for his class; Your grade in his class was still at rock bottom—just then the little bell above the door signalled the arrival of another customer.

Oh. Professor Jeong Yunho strode through the door, his jacket in his arm and a backpack strap on his shoulder. He carried on to the counter ordering "the usual" and sat at a table near the window. The outside light framed his face perfectly as he watched people pass by, sipping on his cold coffee before pulling out a small stack of papers to mark. You had forgotten why you were even there until some people stood in front of your line of vision, forcing you to redirect your gaze. Fuck, the assignment you thought knowing it was due in 20 minutes, indicated by the sight of Yunho walking out of the door, not before nodding at the baristas- and you. His eyes did a quick scan of you before he walked away in the direction of your next class.

You had barely managed to finish it and make it to class on time, knowing you had hardly gone over your writing to check for errors.

"Y/n, Could you meet me after class in my office? I would like to discuss your current grades." His deep tone made you nearly fall out of your seat; you were so concentrated on your thoughts on how good he looked today, that you hadn't noticed him approaching you. You felt your stomach sink at his serious expression. Had you gotten too distracted by the gorgeous man, so badly that you were getting kicked out of his lectures? He walked away to start the lesson before you had a chance to even ask for specifics. This was going to be a long few hours.

"You wanted to see me, sir?" you looked at the man sitting at his desk, like a king on his throne. Even now, you could only think about how fine Yunho looked with his tie slightly loosened and sleeves rolled up showing off his biteable forearms. The way his long fingers tapped on his desk as he looked over at your form standing in his office door frame.

"Yes, close the door behind you and take a seat, please." Your heart raced as you sat across him meeting his gaze once again. "So your grades have been pretty low all semester y/n, but now it's reaching a point where you're going to fail if you carry on." He paused to stand up, before continuing," I've spoken to your other professors and checked your files, You've always had good grades, so what's got you so distracted in my class, hm?" he leans against the desk, the same side as you now and tilts his head. What do you even say? Sorry teach I'm so horny for you please do me against every surface in this room?

"I- I'm not sure, I'll get onto it though sir and-" You feel his presence step closer to you.

"You're not sure, are you? That's interesting, because I'm pretty sure I know what's got your little head so busy, so I'll ask again. What's got you so distracted, sweetheart?" He towers over you staring deep into your soul, feeling as though he can see every dirty thought flying around your brain. He brings his large hand down to your face, softly gripping your chin to stop you from averting your gaze again.

"...You." You whisper under your breath, opting to close your eyes, so you don't have to face him.

"Quick learner." Was the last thing he said before he pushed his face forward to meet your lips. As soon as you registered what was happening, you stood up and deepened the kiss you had been so desperate for. He gripped your hips and shoved you against the desk as his tongue swiped along your lip demanding access. Your breathing had become heavy and unstable, not feeling all that attached to oxygen now that you were attached to Yunho's soft lips. He broke the kiss to swipe his pen holders and a couple of papers off of his desk to replace them with your ass. Truthfully, Yunho had already packed all of his belongings away for the day, hoping that this would be the outcome of your visit.

You rutted against his body, back arching to get friction anywhere as he started toying with the waistband of your clothes, not pulling them down yet. "What do you need tiny? You need my cock? My fingers? My tongue? Tell me what you need baby." His voice had dropped into the sexiest, deepest tone; you could feel it in your body as he held himself against you.

"All. Everything." You huff out, still trying to gain friction on his forming bulge.

"I need to know more than that my star, tell me what you've been fantasising about while I've been teaching you." He's known what you've been thinking about for a while, you realise, making you feel even hotter in his grip.

"I… I thought about sitting under your desk, sucking you off while you try to teach the class, and you bending me over your desk as punishment…" You weren't able to stop the words falling out of your mouth along with heavy breaths as he pressed light kisses down your neck, groping your thighs and hips as you spoke.

"Such an obedient student, hm? Now I'm going to fuck you with my tongue, and if you're good, I might let you come on my fingers. How's that sound, baby?" you moan at his words, nodding your head frantically.

"Words." He sternly whispered on your neck, halting all of his movements.

"Please Yunho- sir", He shivered at you saying his name so needily and lifted your hips to pull off your trousers and underwear, stuffing the underwear in his pocket before dropping to his knees between your legs.

"Am I getting those back- ngh!" A moan ripped out of you before you could even finish what you were saying as he licked a stripe across your weeping cunt till he reached your clit. The feeling had you bucking your hips into his face, but he held your thighs in a tight vice, fingertips gripping into your soft flesh. He groaned as he ate you out, mouth working its magic as he brought you closer to relief. The way he flicked his tongue against you had you grasping his soft hair. You had been so desperate to do that since you first saw him; it was just as nice as you had imagined.

"You're so good for me," the heat of his words hitting your thigh as it kissed it, before bringing his index finger to your hole and filling you. You gasped at the intrusion, unable to concentrate on the sensations as he went back to sucking your over-sensitive clit, moans spilling out of your throat.

"Sir please let me cum- I can't-" you stuttered as he slipped another finger in and sped up his pace, realising you wouldn't have to ask twice for your approaching release. He felt your hole clench around his long fingers as you rode them through your orgasm. Yunho watched your fucked out face as he licked your overstimulated pussy once more, before pulling the zipper on his slacks down and fishing a condom out of his pocket. You sat up to help him pull his dick out of his boxers, him letting out a small whimper as you ripped the condom packet with your teeth and slid it down his hard-on painfully slow, earning a pinch on your thigh. God, he looked delicious like this; Hair dishevelled, trousers just pulled down only enough to have his cock out, his tie loosened and top buttons undone, soft tummy peeking out of the ridden-up shirt as he looked down at you through his lashes. You promised to never forget this arousing image when he taught you next.

"You ready my baby? Gonna fill you so well…" He lined up his hips before stuffing you with his thick length; the ache turning into immense pleasure within seconds. He let you adjust to his size once he had bottomed out, rocking into your pussy when you gave him the green light. You were on cloud nine the way he stretched you and dragged his cock against your G-spot immediately.

"Fuck you fit me so well, baby, so good for my cock. Wanna fuck your tight little cunt every day." He bit your ear lobe as he relentlessly impaled you on him over and over while you cried into his neck in pleasure. He had a way of pounding his hips so delectably it made you feel as though you could pass out from the way he pressed into you.

"Say my name sweetheart, say my name while I claim your desperate pussy, hm? Can you do that for me?"

"Fuck Yunho please keep—please harder."

He laughed at your weak voice, "You don't even know what you want, so obedient for me though- fuck," Yunho muttered as his thrusts became more frantic. He knew you were both close as you chanted his name into his shoulder, fingernails digging into his back. Yunho reached down to stroke your clit with the rough pad of his thumb tightening the knot in your stomach, still sensitive from the first orgasm.

"Yunho, please I'm gonna come-"

"Come for me baby, you can do it, cum on my cock" He slammed into your cunt a few more times before he stilled deep in you, your pussy clenching around him in sync. He stammered out more praises and sweet words as you came down from your high with him still in you.

He pulled out carefully as you leaned against his body with all your weight, not having the strength to hold yourself up anymore, and tied the condom, putting it in the trash.

"You doing alright, tiny? Sorry for going so rough on you, you did so well for me." Yunho asked in concern as he cleaned you up and picked up your trousers, still not returning your underwear. You looked into his sweet eyes, before reaching up to the nape of his neck and pulling him down for another kiss. His mouth still had traces of your arousal lingering, tasting sweet as he kissed you gently like you would break as easy as porcelain. Ironic.

"I'm good, Yunho- sorry, sir…" You weren't sure where the two of you stood after that, office yet to rid of the smell of arousal circling the room.

"Please, call me Yunho... Now, are you going to start focusing in my classes and stop eye fucking me every lesson, or do you need more… private lessons?"

You were pretty sure you were going to end the year with A++ with his special help.

OMGGGGG I melted while writing this bro, I hadn't ever planned on writing Dom!ateez bc I'm just a sucker for them as subs but this. This will not be the last.

Also thank you for 69 followers that's so funny 😭😭😭

#ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez smut #ateez imagine #jeong yunho #yunho drabble #yunho x reader #yunho smut #ateez yunho #jeong yunho smut #jeong yunho x reader #ateez x atiny #yuyus asks ☆

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