#it looked so empty I had to add something
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Breaking Point
pairing: art donaldson x fem!reader
summary: You and Art were hitting partners (and a bit more) in college, so when you run into him a decade later at the U.S. Open, old sparks reignite...
word count: 3.4k
warnings: SMUT, p in v, oral (fem!receiving), slight marking, drinking
a/n: I watched Challengers last night and then wrote this whole thing in one sitting. Nothing in this is really canon other than Art being a major simp lol so no spoilers for the movie! I usually make playlists (or at least find a few songs that get me in the zone) when writing, so I thought I'd start sharing them here too if people are interested!
You should've known he'd be here. You've been following his career for the last decade since you graduated, and ever since he won Wimbledon last year, he's been tennis royalty, but a small part of you still thought you wouldn't run into him here. At the fucking U.S. Open.
Stanford was a lifetime ago, and you haven't kept in touch with anyone from the college team, but there was always something about Art Donaldson that stuck with you. Ten years later, that hasn't changed.
"It's been so long," he calls out when he spots you from across the practice courts. "I didn't think I'd see you."
You didn't either, and you still haven't decided how you feel about it yet, but when he jogs over to your side, you just shrug. "Guess it's your lucky day."
He smiles, and his teeth glimmer in the bright sunlight. "It certainly is."
The loud thwacks of tennis balls hitting rackets echo around you, but you can't seem to focus on anything but the man standing in front of you. He looks good.
He was beautiful in college too, whether he was training across the net or slipping into your bed, but it feels different now, with so much time apart. He looks like a man now.
"Anyway," Art says, jerking you back to reality. "We should get a drink sometime. To catch up."
He adds the last part almost as an afterthought, but it doesn't escape your notice how his eyes have been trailing up and down your body since he walked over.
A drink could mean almost anything with Art Donaldson, but you're too curious to refuse. "Sure. This weekend, after the semi-finals."
He nods, his eyes glinting with amusement, and you grab your bag from the bench beside you before looping the strap over your shoulder.
You walk off the practice courts after one last glance over your shoulder, and you feel his eyes following along until the doors swing shut behind you.
***
He should've expected this. You were a firecracker in college, and you kept him on his toes every single day you were together, so he really should have known what he was getting into when he met you for drinks that weekend.
Instead, he's one too many beers in, and his buzz is only enhancing the glow of your beauty in the hazy bar light. Your dress isn't even that low cut, but something about the shadows glancing over your strong shoulders reminds him of late nights in the Stanford dorms after a hard practice when there was only one thing he wanted more than sleep.
"You played really well this morning," he says genuinely as he sets his beer back onto the table. "After that first set, Mueller didn't stand a chance."
You flash him a dazzling smile as you shrug, resting your chin on your palm. "I had her after the third game, but thanks. It was a quick match."
Art hasn't taken his eyes off of you since you sat down, and while prolonged eye contact usually makes you nervous, you find that you're actually enjoying the attention quite a bit. Attentiveness was never an issue with him, and you would normally give in to your urges, but there's just too much history with him, and you can't afford to lose focus. Not when the title is so close you can taste it.
"I hear the networks are eyeing you for a commentator post," you say, trying to change the subject.
You trace your finger around the rim of your nearly empty margarita, before lifting it to take a final sip, and you don't miss how his throat bobs as you lick the salt off your lips.
"Uh, yeah," he mumbles, clearing his throat. "It was just some chatter, but I'm not looking to retire anytime soon."
You frown. "Is that right?" He's playing better than ever, but he definitely hasn't been himself out on the court in years.
He glances down, clearly trying to avoid the scrutiny, and when his eyes land on your empty glass, he changes the subject again. "You want another drink?"
You shake your head, knowing that another will lead to a less than fun morning, but he isn't done yet.
"You sure?" His eyes find yours again, and this time the eye contact feels primal. "It doesn't have to be here."
Your eyebrows lift and you tilt your head with a knowing smile. "Where were you thinking?"
"I don't know," he shrugs, before his lips curve up into a cheeky grin. "My room's nice."
You saw it coming from a mile away, but it still pulls a laugh out of you. "Oh, I'm sure it is, but this isn't college anymore, Art. You should get some sleep...focus on your match in the morning."
You push your glass forward and stand up, nodding at him as you turn to leave, but then you see him stand too out of the corner of your eye.
"I'll walk you to your car."
He looks at you with a hint of amusement in his expression, and you can't help but want to play along, even though Art Donaldson was nothing but trouble for you.
You don't respond, instead just stepping out from around the table and walking out the front doors of the bar. You don't have to turn back to know he's right behind you, and when you reach your car, parked in the center of the nearly empty parking lot, you spin around.
He doesn't stop walking until he has you practically boxed in by your driver's side door, his face less than a foot from yours as he tucks his hands into his pockets.
He had pushed his sleeves back at some point in the night, from the humid summer heat of the bar, and you can see the veins on his forearms now, under the dim light of the street lamps.
"This is me," you say jokingly, tipping your chin at your car as he looks at you with an expression you can't distinguish. "I'm good from here."
He doesn't move.
It's not that you expected him to give up so easily; you had just forgotten how persistent he could be.
Art's mouth stretches into a slanted smile. "Do you remember the Davis Invitational? Junior year."
Speaking of his persistence...he had been pursuing you for months, not in any tangible way, but you always knew what he was thinking.
After the invitational, where you and Art had been the respective men's and women's champions, you had gone back to his dorm to celebrate. Three hours and just as many vodka shooters later, he had finally gotten you in his bed. Not that you were complaining.
Art knew his way around your body, and even that first night, he had managed to get you off more times than you can remember.
"What about it?" you shoot back, your eyebrows raising at the insinuation.
"Nothing," he says with a shrug, but you don't miss the humor glinting in his eyes. "You just used to be a lot more fun to celebrate with."
"Fuck you," you spit out, shoving his shoulder harder than you mean to. He barely budges, instead grabbing your hand and tugging you a few inches closer, and suddenly a wave of lust washes over you, making your breath hitch.
You press your thighs together under your dress, hoping he can't feel the heat spreading across your skin, but then his smile turns to a smirk and you know you're done for.
"What do you think?" he whispers, leaning in so close that his lips brush over your earlobe. "Want to celebrate?"
Molten lava pools in your gut and you are only peripherally aware of his hand sliding down your hips to the flowy edge of your dress. His fingers glide over your skin as his hand goes under the loose fabric, before rising up to grab your ass, drawing your hips flush with his.
Your arousal is already starting to soak through your panties, but the feeling of his hard bulge pressed up against you sends you flying back to reality.
You lift your hands to his chest and push him back so that he's a few steps away from you. It's not far enough, but at least you can't feel him from there. "I'm not fucking you, Art."
He shrugs, his smirk only slightly shaken. "Who said anything about fucking? I just wanted to talk."
You huff out a laugh. "You're funny. Besides, I'm too tired for this. I need to rest up before my match."
"What about tomorrow night then?" His lip is still curved up in a smirk, but there's an earnestness in his gaze that surprises you.
"What makes you think you'll still be here tomorrow?"
His mouth spreads into a wide smile. "I always win."
You snort. "Fine. Win your match and we can talk."
You don't miss the grin on his face as you climb into your car and leave.
***
You win your next match in straight sets again, so by the time you're out of the locker room, Art's match is still in play. Driven by a mixture of curiosity and intrigue, you head over to his court and find a seat halfway up the stands.
He has won two of three sets, and he's leading the fourth, so with the prospect of the match ending soon, you use the time to observe him from a different angle.
His form is much better than it was in college, and you've seen him play countless times on TV, but you haven't really let yourself see how good he looks out there. The sinewy muscles rippling in his arms as he lifts them to serve. The rugged sturdiness of his legs as he races back and forth across the court.
You wish you could be down there with him, running your hands over the smooth lines of his abdomen, tasting the drops of sweat as they roll down his body-
The crowd erupts in cheers, and you are thrust back into reality as Art throws his arms into the air with a loud whoop. The scoreboard confirms his victory, and you clap along with the audience as he shakes his opponent's hand and heads over to his chair.
People around you stand up to leave, but you stay in your seat, watching as he grabs his bag and stuffs his rackets inside. When he wipes a towel over his face, his head turns up and his eyes immediately go to you, like he knew you were here the whole time.
Your stomach does an involuntary flip and he flashes his eyebrows at you as you bit the inside of your lip, trying to hold back a smile.
When he ducks back down to grab his things, you stand up quickly to avoid letting him see your blush and follow the rest of the crowd off of the stands.
***
You hear it late that night. Three little raps on your hotel room door, just before midnight.
You're in the finals, and you don't have any friends here to celebrate with, so you were sipping a beer and watching old match recordings when you heard the knock.
There's no one else who would come to see you this late, so you're not surprised when you open the door to find Art, dressed in a tee shirt and comfy-looking pajama pants.
"What are you doing here?" you ask, even though you already know the answer.
Art just looks at you, his pupils already massive. "You said if I win, we could talk." He shrugs. "I won."
"Okay," you concede, opening the door wider to let him in. "Just talking then."
He nods, before following you inside and shutting the door.
"You want anything to drink?" you ask as he trails behind you.
He shakes his head. "I'm good."
You grab your beer bottle from the side table and sit down on the floor, crossing your legs beneath you.
Art sits across from you, his feet in front of him and his elbows on his knees. You were assigned to a modestly sized room, but for someone as tall as him, the space must feel cramped.
"How did the match feel?" you ask, taking a swig of beer.
He thinks for a moment. "It was close at first, but once I shook my legs out, it became a breeze."
"Your legs were never the problem," you say, leveling him with a serious look. "It was always your attitude. Or your confidence."
He frowns, his eyebrows scrunching slightly. "I'm plenty confident."
"You are now," you tell him as you swirl the bottle around in your hand. "You won Wimbledon, you have a reason to be confident."
That makes him smile. "So you're saying my legs are fine."
"Yeah," you say before you can process what you're saying. "You looked good out there."
His smile turns to a smirk so fast it nearly gives you whiplash. "You think I look good?"
You let out an exasperated scoff. "At tennis."
His grin doesn't falter so you roll your eyes at him before lifting the bottle to your lips to take another swig. When you tilt the bottle back down to swallow, his hand reaches forward to take it from you. Your grip on the beer doesn't loosen, so the motion sends you pitching forward.
Your mouth parts with a small yelp as his arm wraps around you, tugging you closer, and before you can process what's happening, his lips are on yours.
If you let yourself think too hard, you would realize that there is way too much shared history and way too much baggage here for this to be a good idea...so that's why you don't.
Instead, you let him pull your body flush against his and when his tongue slides over the seam of your lips, you grant him access immediately. Your shirts come off in quick succession and you gasp as his hands run up and down your body, his strong, calloused fingers grasping at every inch of purchase they can find. Yours reach up to tangle in his messy hair, and when his lips move down your neck, your grip tightens, making him moan quietly against your skin.
Something about being on the floor takes you back to your college days, when you'd both be so worked up after practice that you couldn't even make it to the bed, but that feels too real right now.
"Art," you whisper as he runs his lips and teeth over your neck, before replacing it with his tongue to soothe the quickly blossoming marks. "Art, the bed. Now."
It takes him a second to process your words, but when he does, he loops an arm around your waist and lifts you up and onto the bed in one motion, before pushing you back onto the covers.
By the time your head hits the bed, he's already pulling your shorts and panties down, exposing you to the cool air. His lips follow the path of his hands as they trace up your legs, making you squirm under the hot touch of his rough fingers. He presses wet kisses to the insides of your thighs before spreading them apart and dropping to his knees on the floor in front of you.
"So wet for me," he whispers, almost to himself, before he dives in, his mouth making lewd noises as he licks a thick stripe up your core. "You taste so good."
He lifts your legs over his shoulders to give himself some leverage as he makes a mess between your thighs, licking and sucking your clit into his mouth before fucking you with his tongue.
His grip on your thighs is the only thing keeping you pinned to the bed as you writhe beneath him, trying to not squeeze your legs together from the heat spreading up your core.
His mouth feels amazing and it takes only minutes before you're already nearing the edge. You don't want to come until he is inside of you, though, so you yank his hair, pulling him up and off of you.
He looks up at you through his lashes, and he looks ethereal with his disheveled hair and his chin wet with your slick.
You, on the other hand, look like heaven itself with your eyes half-hooded from pleasure, and he can't help the grin that crosses his face as he licks his lips and climbs over you onto the bed. He lets you taste yourself as he kisses you again, and he lets out a low groan when you bite his lip just hard enough to sting.
"Fuck me," you gasp, your voice too breathy to be actually authoritative. "Fuck me the way I like."
Art grins at your desperate tone and the wild lust in your eyes, committing this image to memory for a later time when you're much further away.
He kicks his pants off as he lifts you both further up the bed, and after covering himself with a condom from his back pocket, he lines himself up and slowly pushes forward.
He gives you a few moments to adjust to his size before slowly pulling out nearly all the way and then thrusting in again.
The slight pain turns to pleasure almost immediately, but he keeps his pace steady so as not to hurt you. You need more right now, so you wrap your legs around him for leverage and flip him over so that you're straddling him.
He groans as his head hits the pillow, and when he tries to sit up, you press your hands to his chest, pushing him down as you ride him. This position gives you a lot more control, and you use it to your advantage as you bounce yourself on his cock, feeling the way he fills you up so fully from this higher angle.
His fingers dig into your hips as he helps lift you up and down, and his eyes are practically feral as he watches the spot where his cock disappears inside of you.
He's the perfect size to fill you up completely, and with each swivel of your hips, you get closer and closer to your climax, which is approaching so fast you can taste it.
You cry out when he hits exactly the right spot deep inside of you, and his eyes fly to yours as your movements start to stutter from your impending release.
Needing to see the look on your face when you come, he pushes your lower back forward so you fall against his chest, before lifting himself up to meet you halfway. With one arm locked around you, he brings his other hand down between the two of you to rub quick circles over your clit. The new angle lets him thrust up into you, and the increased pace of his movements mixed with the speed of his fingers sends you flying over the edge.
Your mouth falls open with a loud cry, and you squeeze him so tightly he's practically seeing stars. You look so beautiful when you come, like a goddess sent down here just for him, and when your eyes meet his, he finds his own climax.
His body jerks forward with the force of his release, and you let him thrust a few more times as he finally finishes inside of you.
After pulling out, he tugs you down to lay next to him, and at first you let him, but the emotions warring inside of you don't stay quiet for long.
You know that whatever this was isn't going to go anywhere. You didn't work in college, and you won't work now, and you don't want anyone to get hurt again, so you have to make a choice. Now.
"I need to get some rest," you say quietly, a tiny part of you hoping he doesn't hear you. "Before the next match."
"Yeah," he sighs after a beat. "Me too."
You let him hold you for a moment longer, before he unwraps himself from your body and sits up, tugging his shirt and pants back on. You tug the sheet back and wrap it around your torso as he stands up and walks to the door.
You're not sure what you're expecting as he goes to leave, but what you get is a silent nod as the door swings shut behind him.
#art donaldson smut#art donaldson#challengers#challengers smut#art donaldson x reader#art donaldson x fem!reader#challengers fanfiction#art donaldson x female reader#art donaldson x you
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Slow and Steady Wins
Summary: Joel loves to take his time and enjoy all of you until you’re begging for more
Warnings: mdni 18+ mature content, explicit sexual content
A/N: comments and reblogs are what help writers so please if you like it say something and reblog so others can enjoy! Also, my tag list is always open so please don’t hesitate to ask I would be more than happy to add more! Thanks! XOXO
Hall of Hunks
“That’s it baby. Nice and slow.” Joel’s low voice whispers in your ear as you sink down on his length. Hands on his shoulders to keep yourself upright. Gasping as you feel your walls stretching around him. Adjusting to how thick he really is and enjoying the feeling.
Turning your gaze to the wall trying to avoid his intense stare across your face. Biting down on your arm to return your attention back to him. Chuckling at how shy you suddenly become with such an intimate moment. Leaning forward more to feel your chest against his so your hearts beat as one.
“Can you feel all of me?” Keeping his voice just above a whisper like he didn’t want anyone else to hear.
“Yes.” Mumbling while lifting your hips up just above the tip before pushing him back in. Hands on the fat of your ass squeezing the flesh softly in his palms.
“Does my baby want more?” Nodding your head worried nothing but moans and gasps would slip out. Your fists now tugging on the nape of his hair fingernails scratching along his neck sure to leave a mark. Joel didn’t mind in the least bit.
Stroking soothing circles on your skin as he raised his hips to get a deeper angle. He’s warm and soft and incredibly deep. Feeling his lips glide across your face as you flex your muscles to lift your legs. Both creating a rhythmic motion so you two were in sync.
“Take it easy sweetheart.” He directs you while he pats your ass in warning. Of course you’re so lost in the feeling of his cock and so drunk you can’t stop.
“I need you so bad Joel.” You plea with him pathetically that tears start to form in your eyes. He hated to see you in so much pain that you had to beg him. “Please it hurts.”
“I’m right here baby. I’m not going anywhere.” Reassuring you with a loving smile on his face showing off his dimples. Gripping your hips to drill his pelvis directly up into yours. His brows furrowing in concentration as he could feel you squeezing him so tightly. Like you were afraid he would leave and you would be empty.
“I- I need you.” Choking out as you looked into his dark brown eyes that were glazed over. It was like you were the only person in this world, and all you had was each other. Both of you living in this moment like it was the last.
“Fuck baby so desperate.” His voice dripping like honey so sweet and infectious it had you melting in the palm of his hand. One of his hands wedging between your sweaty bodies to connect with your puffy clit. Circling the sensitive nub hoping to get you closer to your orgasm.
Resting your head on his shoulder feeling the stretch of your thighs as it began to burn. Joel could see you struggling to keep up with his thrusting. Taking matters into his own hands as his arms clasped behind your back and he began to buck into you. Pressing his lips together and holding his breath to the point his face turned beet red.
“Oh my god just like that.” Encouraging him as he hit that sweet spot directly now causing your body to stiffen.
Flexing his abdomen as he ruts into you feeling him all the way in your stomach rigid and hard. With this comfortable position that he kept you in grateful that he was able to give you what you wanted. Joel felt like he was in control and he became drunk on the power.
“Fuck my cock it’s all yours.” Walls clamping down at his crude words snickering at your reaction. Joel looking at your unbelievably disheveled face even when you were a sweaty mess he still thought you looked beautiful. It was his favorite look on you. “Wanna feel that creamy cunt cum on my cock.
Crying out as you gripped onto Joel’s body like your life depended on it. Toes curling as your whole body shook and crumbled into a heaping mess. Chest rising and falling with each quick breath. Stomach trembling with the resounding orgasm that you had just experienced. It was intense and overpowering you felt like you might pass out. Your cunt sore from the beating that you just took stretching you out.
His touch so gentle and comforting as he helped ease you through your release. Soft kisses up and down your shoulders as he rubbed his fingers nimbly up and down your back. This was the Joel that you loved so delicate with you and enjoying every inch of you.
“Took my cock so well baby girl. Such a good fucking girl for me.” Praises whispered in your ear as he remained still inside of you neither of you wanting to move. Smiling lazily at him as you relax into his arms ready to stay like this for the rest of your life.
#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal smut#Pedro pascal blurb#Pedro pascal imagines#Pedro pascal fanfic#Pedro pascal fic#Joel miller#Joel miller x reader#Joel miller smut#Joel miller blurb#Joel miller fanfic#Joel miller fic#the last of us#the last of us smut
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drunk in love || joe burrow x reader
description: after a whirlwind of a few months, Joe finds himself being more open with the public about your relationship, which takes you by surprise.
a/n: im glad i could get this up in time! i think the tag needs to be filled with more positivity and the usual joey b content. we can push through :)
requested by the amazing and extremely talented @joeys-babe, you gave me great inspo! i have also learned that i loveeee writing little flashbacks into my fics just to add more context to the situation. when I’m writing it’s like i'm painting on a blank canvas, and i'm going wherever the brush takes me :)
warnings: smuttttt, language, angst
word count: 7.7 k
——————————————————————
The sounds of enthusiastic fans echoed as you and Joe arrived at the Fifth Third arena for Joe’s podcast taping. Joe had been asked by the Kelce Brothers to be a guest on their live podcast recording of New Heights since they were in Cincinnati, and who better to have on than the QB1? And Joe being the polite and respectful man he is, agreed to do it. You were a bit surprised he was willing to go out in front of a big crowd of people like this and just talk. He rarely did podcasts or lengthy interviews because of the anxiety they brought him and he didn’t like to share his personal life in front of thousands of people, so you were watching him like a hawk the whole night to make sure he was doing okay.
Right now, you both were sitting in the locker room while the brothers were doing the game portion of their podcast. You were snacking on some pretzels, offering Joe some since he hadn’t eaten anything since this afternoon, but he refused.
“Joe, you have to eat something,” you say while pushing a bag of pretzels towards him.
“I’m not hungry,” he mumbled while looking at the monitor to see what was going on in the arena.
“I refuse to believe that. We’re going to Woodys after and we both know that you drinking on an empty stomach will cause carnage,” you giggle expecting him to laugh as well, but he continues to stare at the monitor, seemingly lost in thought.
You look down and notice that he’s bobbing his left leg up and down and is picking at his fingers, an instant signal that his anxiety was slowly creeping in.
You quickly place your snack down, scooch your chair closer to him, and place your hand on his thigh, giving it a soft squeeze. He felt the light touch of your hand and stopped bouncing his leg before looking over at you.
His eyes met yours and you could easily tell that he was getting anxious by the way they turned a shade of deep blue. “Are you alright J?” you ask.
Joe stays silent for a few seconds before letting out a sigh, “Just a little nervous,” he quietly says causing your face to drop. “I haven’t done this in a while and I don’t wanna get weird out there if they ask anything specific, you know?”.
Joe was referring to getting weird if they asked any questions about his personal life. He never talks about his life behind closed doors and rarely talks about you in respect of your privacy. He was worried that they’d ask him about you or your relationship and wouldn’t know what to say or how to answer them. He never really threw the “girlfriend” tag around many people for quite a few reasons. One was that it was mostly implied that you were together, another being that he didn’t want people who may not have known about your relationship to bombard you with questions about him. He kept your relationship carefully locked away because it was the most important thing in the world to him and he was afraid that the world would rip it to shreds if you opened the door a little too much. He wanted to talk about you all the time, even telling you that he might not even be able to stop once he starts. But he just never knew when or how to talk about your relationship without making you sensitive to public discourse.
“You won’t get weird Joe,” you say as you rub his thigh. “It’s okay to be a little nervous, especially because this is out of your comfort zone. You are going to do great and I am so proud of you for doing this,” you say. “I’m gonna be right there, front row on the side. Orlando will be up there with you too. And I know Jason and Travis will respect your boundaries. Maybe they’ll just keep it all about ball,”.
He nods and grabs your hand and gives it a gentle kiss. “Thank you for being here,” he says, finally flashing you a genuine smile.
“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,” you say while pressing a kiss on his cheek. Joe puts his arm around your shoulder and pulls you in for a warm hug. He knew he’d be fine out there but couldn’t help but get a little nervous when he realized all eyes would be on him. Sure, in a football game, all 50,000+ eyes are on him, but that never bothered him because the game was his shield.
“If you feel flustered, give me a look and I’ll cause a distraction for you to run away,” you giggle against his neck.
He laughs and presses a kiss on your forehead, “My knight in shining armor as usual,”.
A few minutes and a handful of pretzels later, you’re sitting on the side of the stage while Jason and Travis introduce Joe. The crowd erupts as they say Joe’s name and the song choice for his introduction makes you laugh like a hyena. “Get the Gat” was playing, a nod to the era that truly started it all for Joe. He was scanning the crowd for you as he walked toward the stage, eventually catching you in the front row, just like you said, in your stunning white dress that highlighted your most precious features.
You gave him two thumbs up and mouthed “You got this,”. He gives you a big smile before walking up onto the stage and greeting the brothers.
Things were going pretty smoothly for him. They were talking to him about his injury and recovery, his questionable tweets about aliens that got the entire crowd laughing their asses off, and some playful football + rivalry talk between Travis and Joe. He seemed incredibly relaxed up there and you felt relieved, until they changed the subject to the one thing that Joe was worried about.
“So enough about ball,” Travis said. “What has Joey B been up to this off season. Where you been, Who you been with?”.
“Uh oh,” you whispered.
Joe laughed softly before saying “Just hanging around. Obviously training and getting better, some UFC events here and there, some boy's trips, spending time with family, but mostly spending time with my girlfriend,”.
Your eyes widen at his words and your mouth slightly falls open. He just mentioned you in front of god knows how many people, and so casually? What the actual fuck.
“Ohhh,” Travis smiles. “Is your lovely lady here tonight?” He asks.
“Yeah, she’s right there,” Joe smiles and points over to you, causing literally everyone in the arena to turn and look at you.
“Ayeee,” the brothers say in unison as the camera points over to you.
Your cheeks turn tomato red as everyone starts cheering and waving at you, and you flash a big smile in return even though you were completely freaking out internally.
“Yep, that's her. She’s the best person in the entire world. I wouldn’t be able to do any of this without her support and love,” Joe says as everyone turns back to face him. “She really knows exactly how to deal with me when I’m too in my head and always shows up for me no matter what happens. I owe a lot of how I am and how I handle things, to her” he adds.
“Awww,” said Jason.
“Especially with this injury. I seriously don’t think I would’ve been able to get through it without her. I was in a really tough spot, mentally and physically, and she really stepped up for me,” Joe says. You feel a shift in his demeanor when he says that. From relaxed and positive, to now a little tense and serious.
The wrist injury took a toll on Joe, and unfortunately your relationship. It took everyone by surprise when it happened as Joe was just hitting his stride after recovering from the calf strain. This was supposed to be his year and when that got taken away from him, he shut down. You tried your hardest to be there for him, and he appreciated you so much. But he needed to figure stuff out on his own which caused a bit of tension between you both. And all of it got too much for you to handle; you had to deal with his emotions, your own emotions, and help him recover on top of 100 other things that were being thrown your way.
Little arguments became common as they always would stem at the most unexpected times. Sometimes they would happen when you would check in on how he was feeling, they’d happen during a happy moment where one of you said something that didn’t land correctly, and sometimes when he would come and apologize to you for snapping at you, but you would become a child and remain stubborn even though you wanted nothing more than to curl up in his arms and let everything out.
Flashback to December
It had been a few weeks since Joe got surgery on his wrist. Ever since then, he’d been acting strangely and it was driving you insane. He was watching some film all day in his office so that he could help out at practice, so you’d hardly have seen him all day.
You got off the couch and decided to bring him a snack, some strawberries and bananas, and made your way up the stairs.
You made your way into his office, making sure that you weren’t getting in the way of anything. He was rewinding some footage with his left hand, but was struggling to do so since his dominant hand was in a cast.
“Here, let me help,” you say as you place the bowl of fruit down in front of him.
“It’s okay, I got it,” he says trying to grab the mouse, but he was too late as you already grabbed it and fixed it for him. You looked over at him and smiled, but in return got a loud sigh and an eye roll.
“Gee, I was just trying to help,” you replied.
“And I didn’t ask for any,” he mumbled, slightly irritated. Your face dropped at his tone but you decided not to push it.
“I brought you some fruit. You skipped out on lunch so I thought you’d be hungry,”.
“Thanks,” he says as he pushes the bowl to the side and goes back to the film.
You stand there for a few moments, debating whether or not you should leave him alone or talk to him. You decided to talk to him because this mood he’d been in was not welcomed.
“Is there something wrong? Does your arm hurt?” You ask as you rub his shoulder.
He immediately slams the mouse to pause the film and looks up. “What’s wrong is that you won’t let me watch the film for this week. I told you I'm not hungry and you’re bothering me,” he snaps.
You’re taken aback by his sudden anger, “I was just trying to help, Joe-”.
“And how many times have I said, I don’t need it,” he spit out.
Tears welled up in your eyes as you took a step back. “I’m sorry, I- I just wanted to make sure you were okay,”.
“I’m fine” He said, slightly shouting as he looked back over to you.
The tears in your eyes made their way down your cheeks as you felt more angry than sad. His attitude was unfucking called for as you were just trying to check in on him.
“You know what, fine. I’m done asking you if you’re okay and if you need something. I get that you’re hurt. I get that this is hard for you. But do not for one second think that I’m just going to sit here and take this bullshit. You’ve been acting like this for weeks, on and off. And quite frankly, it’s giving me whiplash,” you unload as more tears stream down your face.
“Y/N-,” he interrupts.
“No. Listen to me. If me helping you is bothering you, If I am bothering you, just say the word and I’ll stop. You don’t have to tell me how you’re feeling, and I’ll just stop asking. I love you, you know that. But I’m done acting like this is okay,” you spit out, tears running down your cheeks faster than a trackstar running a mile.
He stays silent for a few seconds so you take that as a response and nod your head. You leave his office, making your way into the bedroom and slamming the door shut. He immediately felt bad for yelling at you and making you cry. He fell back into his chair and looked up at the ceiling, thinking about how shitty he was.
You lay down on your side of the bed, crying into your pillow. A million thoughts flooding your head, and a million emotions flowing through your body. You felt bad for him, you really really felt bad for him. But you started to feel bad for yourself because of how he was acting around you. Did you do something to make him act like this? He wouldn’t talk to you much about how he was feeling, so you were in limbo.
You curled up into your pillow, a few tears still falling down your face as you heard the door open. Joe walked in and saw you laying on the bed, immediately feeling like shit because he did this to you. He walked over to the bed, crawling onto his side and gently rubbing your arm.
“Y/N?” he asked.
You didn’t look over at him and remained facing the windows.
He let out a sigh before saying, “I deserve that.”
“Listen, I am so fucking sorry for that. You didn’t do anything and I took my feelings out on you which was totally uncalled for. It’s just, I have alot going through my mind right now. But that is no excuse for me to do that to you, and you have every right to be mad. I’ve been putting you through alot lately and you’re just trying to help,”.
You turned over to face him and moved up. “So then talk to me, Joe?”. “I just want to make sure that you’re okay. I’m here, I’m always here,” you say as you wipe your tears.
“I know. And I’m so sorry. I just don’t want to burden you with all my feelings,” he says.
“You could never. We’re in this together, we have been since we first met. I want you to talk to me whenever you need to. Please, do not keep your feelings bottled up like that,”.
“You’re right,” he says as he pulls you into his arms, his hand rubbing your back for comfort. “I am so so so sorry for treating you like shit. You have been nothing but helpful and patient since the surgery and my dumbass can’t seem to fathome that,” he says.
“You’re not a dumbass,” you say as you look up at him. “You just have alot going on in there,” you say as you move your hand into his hair. “Just let me in and let me help you figure it out,” you whisper.
So that’s exactly what he did. He unloaded all of his heavy feelings, self doubt, and fear onto you. And instead of running out of fear or anxiety, you stayed. You stayed and you helped him just as you said you would.
End of Flashback
You were holding your breaths around each other for a little bit, but luckily you got through it. It was a bumpy few months, but in the end, you got through it together and came out the other side stronger like you always do.
“Seems like you got yourself a great lady,” Jason says, snapping you back to the present.
“I sure do,” Joe laughs while meeting your eyes, setting off butterflies in your belly.
“So what have you guys been up to, if you don’t mind sharing? I think the fans would love to hear it,” Travis says as the fans begin to cheer.
Joe lets out a laugh and runs his fingers through his hair, “Yeah, why not. Well, we’ve gone on a few vacations, watched a bunch of movies we’ve been meaning to for a while, built some legos, and she’s taught me how to bake,”.
The crowd lets out a laugh as he says that last thing. You were surprised at how he was being an open book right now and you didn’t know if you should be concerned at this newfound openness or ecstatic, but you were sure as hell enjoying it in the moment.
“You heard it here first, Joe Burrow knows how to bake!” They announced to the crowd.
“Yup, it’s really not as hard as it looks,” Joe shrugs.
You let out a laugh when as says that. It really wasn’t that hard, but Joe was certainly not a pro baker as he was implying.
Flashback to a few weeks ago
It was a rainy evening in Cincy today, causing you and Joe to postpone your plans to walk around the neighborhood this evening. You were bored out of your mind, contemplating if you should take a nap or do something productive, but nothing sounded fun until an ad popped up on your phone for new cake pans which set off a lightbulb in your head.
“Cinnamon Rolls!” you said out loud as you just got an idea of what you could do for the evening.
You quickly walked over to the kitchen and started pulling out everything you needed to make your famous Cinnamon Rolls, which happened to be one of Joe’s favorites, but Pumpkin Pie remained number 1. Joe was probably playing video games or watching something upstairs so you’d get to surprise him later with the delicious dessert.
A few minutes later, you were in the zone and were starting to make the dough when you heard Joe come down the stairs.
“Hey Babe, whatcha doing?” He says, a slight bounce in his step. He must be feeling good today, and rightfully so. He deserved to feel loose and cheerful after the past few months.
“It’s a secret,” you giggle as you start making the liquid mixture.
He raises his brows at you before examining the surroundings, eventually putting the puzzle together and realizing you are making Cinnamon Rolls.
“Well, Can I help?” He asks as he walks over and hovers behind you, placing his chin on your shoulder.
You stop mixing the Milk and Butter and look back at him, “You want to help me bake?”.
“Why are you saying it like that?” He asks as he begins pressing warm kisses on your neck.
You stay silent for a few moments before taking advantage of his offer, “No reason. Here, let me show you how to make the dry mixture,” you say as he flashes you a big smile.
You spend a few minutes getting Joe situated with all the dry ingredients and then go back to your task. You peek over at him every few moments and although he’s making a huge mess, he seems to be doing just fine. Once you both were done with your mixtures, Joe insisted that he would make the dough in the mixer. So once again, you taught him how to use the mixer and left him to it as you started making the Cinnamon Sugar Filling. He was doing very well for someone who’s dominant hand is still not at 100%.
“Joe, this looks great!” you say as you look over his shoulder, rubbing it as you inspect the dough.
“Yeah?” he asks, feeling proud that he was doing good for his first time baking.
“Mhmmm, just the right consistency. Very impressive for a rookie,” You tease.
The next half hour passes by as you finish prepping the rolls. You roll out the dough and spread the cinnamon mixture across the sheet and Joe helps you roll it back up to cut the buns out. You place them in the fridge to rise and Joe takes responsibility for making the icing, so you pull over a barstool and watch him figure it out.
“You’re doing great babe,” You smile as he begins mixing the ingredients while carefully looking at the recipe.
“This isn’t so bad,” He says looking back up at you. “You wanna taste it? I’m almost done,”.
“Okay,” you say as he dips his finger into the icing and puts his finger out to you. A huge smirk appears on his face once you realize what he is implying.
You pull his finger closer to your mouth and make direct eye contact for a few seconds before wrapping your lips around the sugary tip. You swirl your tongue around his finger, taking in all of the sweet icing. You both still hold eye contact, which makes you feel hot all around as you know how you are making him feel by doing this. A few seconds later, You take his finger out of your mouth and give him the same smirk he gave you.
“Was it good?” he teases.
“Soooo good,” you purred. “Very warm, sweet, and delicious,” you say as Joe walks over to you. He grabs your hand and pulls you off the barstool, causing you to let out a squeal. “What are you doing?” you giggle.
“How long do the rolls take to rise?” he asks as he lifts you onto the messy counter, flour now covering your sweatpants.
“About an hour. Why?” you ask as he starts to kiss your neck.
“Perfect. I think I need an hour to eat my favorite dessert,” He whispers in your ear before rubbing your upper thigh.
You don’t follow what he’s saying, “I didn’t make pumpkin pie silly,”.
“I’m not talking about pumpkin pie,” He says while coming back into your view, his eyes filled with hunger and desire, and his fingers untying the strings of your sweatpants.
End of Flashback
You were incredibly smiley and cheery for the rest of the recording and kept playing back everything Joe said about you. It warmed your heart that he felt a little more comfortable opening the door, even if it was just the slightest bit, to show fans your love for each other. But you were so curious as to what changed his mind. A million thoughts were filling your head, and it also didn’t help that he looked so fucking hot. Although he was wearing a comfy, laid-back fit, he looked mouthwatering and you were trying so hard not to jump at him. The extra few pounds of muscle he gained from his training this year was showing and that messy bedhead look he was sporting was filling your head with unholy thoughts the entire time.
Once Joe had wrapped up his appearance, you headed back to the locker room area to find him.
He was talking to some Bearcats coaches when you found him. No stress was apparent on his face and he looked like he was just fine. You let out a relaxed sigh as you leaned on the door, letting him have his conversation without any interruptions, but he immediately felt your presence and turned around. He mumbled something to the coaches and then they walked away.
“You didn’t have to do that,” you say while moving off the door.
“Yes I did,” he says as he walks over to you, immediately pulling you closer and capturing your lips in a deep and thorough kiss. One hand cupping your face and the other sliding down your waist. You both were literally making out in the locker room and anyone could walk in at any time, but he didn’t care. He pulls away after a minute, leaving you a little breathless.
“Cherry Lip Gloss,” He says. “My favorite,”.
Joe loved your Cherry Lip Gloss. You remembered the moment when you both had your first kiss, he immediately pulled away from you and you didn’t know why until he told you how amazing you tasted and he had to let you know.
Flashback to a few years ago
You and Joe just got back to your apartment after your bowling date downtown. He parked the car in the parking lot and you both were sitting inside, wishing that the night would never end. He turned over to face you, a million thoughts flooding his head. A few being that you looked absolutely enchanting and he really really liked you. You both had been on a few dates so far, each one better than the last, and tonight felt like a dream.
“Did you have fun?” He asked as he stared deeply into your eyes.
“Best date ever,” you smiled. You were feeling a little nervous after tonight's date, only because you realized that you really liked him and that it wasn't just a spur-of-the-moment feeling, and you didn’t know if he really felt the same way. Was he just looking for a girl to have on his side who would take care of him during the season and be good enough to hook up with? Or did he want a girl that he could have a genuine and meaningful relationship with?
He let out a deep breath and said, “You look really pretty by the way,”.
A blush crept up your face, “Thank You,”.
He kept staring into your eyes as you both remained silent. He moved closer to you but you couldn’t process it because you were caught up in your own thoughts. Was he waiting for you to make a move? You both haven’t kissed yet and every date felt like it would end with a kiss, but it never did. You were all in your head about how he felt about you and you didn’t know what to do, so you thought that it would be better to just go inside and avoid the awkward moment.
“I should probably go,” you say while staring into his deep blue eyes, but before you can grab your stuff, Joe leans in and captures your lips in a gentle kiss. You stay absolutely still for a few seconds before he suddenly pulls away.
The blank look on his face fills your stomach with anxiety. Did your breath stink? Did he not enjoy it? Was it a mistake? You felt like hiding in a corner somewhere and never coming out.
“Your lips,” he says. “Is that Cherry?”.
You pause for a few seconds and say, “Yeah,”.
“I love Cherry,” is all he says before pulling you back over to him, and completely attacking your lip with sloppy and eager kisses. You feel him grin into the kiss which immediately gets rid of your wandering thoughts.
“You taste like love,” he says in between kisses.
End of flashback
He presses another kiss on your lips which snaps you back to the present. “You did great out there,” you told him. “They loved you,”.
“Yeah, it felt natural and easy,” he says as he leans back in for another kiss.
Before you could ask him about his sudden change of heart about wanting to not talk about your relationship, a team member came over to tell you both that you’re allowed to leave and go over to the bar and that everyone would join you there in a little bit. Joe nods, wrappinh his arm around your waist, and leading you both out to the car. This newfound PDA was a little weird for you as you were walking through crowds of strangers and Joe seemed to not care. You decided not to push the subject just yet, it would be better to wait till you were alone so you could figure out what was going through his head.
The after-party had a stereotypical College party vibe to it, and it being in a College Bar was definitely adding to the mix. Loud music and laughter, numerous cans of beer scattered across the room, and groups of people playing darts or beer pong. You felt like you were transported back to College and were drunk on nostalgia, and maybe something more.
Joe was standing next to you, one hand firmly gripping your waist, and a beer can in the other, as you were extremely focused on the game of darts in front of you both.
“Andddd, Bullseye!” you yell as the dart hits the middle of the board.
“Great Job, Y/N. I taught you well,” He says as you feel his hand migrate down to your ass, giving it a soft squeeze.
“That you did,” You say as you look back up at him. Here he goes again with the PDA, not that you were upset at it. You loved it, but you were also just as confused. You watched him take another sip of his beer before breaking off to go greet a few more people. You watched as he was conversing with a group of people before he looked over at you and motioned for you to come over.
“And this is my girlfriend Y/N,” he says as you join his side, his hand once again around your waist. You had no idea who he was introducing you to and were even more surprised that he was just tossing around the “girlfriend” tag so casually in front of people that he seems to have met for the first time. A few minutes later, you wrap up your conversation and decide to talk to Joe about what all this was about.
“Hey Joe?” you say to get his attention.
“Yeah? What’s up?” he responds.
“You wanna over there for a bit? I need to talk to you about something,” you say as you point over to the semi-secluded barstools in the back of the bar. He nods and you lead him over to the stools and sit down with your drinks.
“Is everything alright?” he asks as he rubs your thigh.
“Yeah, everything is fine,” you say as you place your hand on his. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay,”.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” he questions.
“Its just, before the podcast you were getting nervous about them potentially asking you about us, and they did,”.
“Yeaahh,” he drags out as he nods his head.
“And when they did, you seemed to be just fine and were like an open book. Not to mention the out-of-the-blue PDA you’ve been showing all night,” you giggle. “I just wanna know, why the sudden change of heart? You know I don’t mind not being so open and public with our relationship, I hope I didn’t make you feel like you had to say or do something,”.
Joe looked deeply into your eyes for a few seconds before responding. “These past few months have been pretty hard for me, and us. You know that best,”. You nod in return, now feeling a little queasy at the mention of the rough moments you had.
“And it gave me a lot of time to think about life,” he adds as he interlocks his fingers with yours.
“I’m tired of acting like you’re not the reason why I can do most of this, aside from actually playing football. You always know exactly how to handle me when things get too chaotic, you know how to calm me down, you help me with literally everything, but most importantly, you put up with all the bullshit that being with me brings,”.
“Joe,” you whisper.
“Wait, I’m not finished. You’re the most important person in my life, and it’s time I make that known to everyone. I realized that I have no reason to be worried about what others will think, I love you more than anything and people need to know that. These past few months have shown me that I need you more than I need anything and the thought of you not being by my side freaks me the fuck out. Fuck their opinion. Fuck their comments. I love you and I chose you. Opening the door just a little will not hurt and if anyone has a problem with it, screw them,”.
You felt like crying as he said all of this to you. Not tears of sadness, but tears of relief. You were relieved that his feelings towards you hadn’t changed, as odd as that sounds. There were a few negative thoughts about your relationship that piled up in the back of your mind over the past few months, but you never confronted them out of fear. The injury did a number on you both and you were scared that you’d lose this special thing you had to something that wasn’t in your control.
“I love you so much, Joe. I’m not going anywhere,” you told him.
“I love you more. And good, I think if you did I wouldn’t know how to function,” he says as he pulls you off the barstool and closer to him, slowly pressing his lips against yours. His lips tasted like your cherry lip gloss and beer, a familiar mix that you would often call ‘drunk in love’. He told you during your first kiss that the cherry lipgloss you had on tasted like love, and the beer was already intoxicating itself. A mix of both felt like you were well, drunk in love.
You were caught up in a heated moment in the dimly lit corner of the bar, not caring who saw you or who cared what you were doing. Your tongues tangled in your mouth as his hand navigated to your waist, holding you tightly. He lightly bit your bottom lip, causing you to moan into the kiss. His hands continued to wander around your hips, slowly moving down to your ass. He gives it a few squeezes, pushing you deeper into him. You pulled away from his lips and said, “Do you wanna get out of here? I’m all for being a little more open, but I think we should finish this one away from public view,” you wink.
He playfully shakes his head and lets out a laugh, “Deal,”.
He grabs your hand tightly and leads you through the bar, giving it a few squeezes as you make your way outside.
“We didn’t tell anyone that we were leaving,” you said as he led you down the street to the Car.
“We’ll be fine,” he reassures you as he opens the car door for you.
He gets you situated before going around and getting inside the driver’s seat. You couldn’t wait to get home and finish what started in the bar. Once he got on the highway his hand navigated to your upper thigh, rubbing it up and down, softly caressing your exposed skin. You were already on edge from your heated makeout before and his hand being this close to where you needed him most was driving you insane.
“Did I mention that you looked absolutely sexy tonight? This white dress is really making me feel things,” Joe says.
“You’re such a tease,” you giggle.
“Hm?” He questioned, acting oblivious.
“You know what you’re doing, Burrow. Got me all flustered from earlier and now this,” you say as you pat his hand that’s on your thigh.
“How did I get you flustered?”.
You sit up in your seat and say, “Well for starters, you looked like walking sex tonight, even if it’s a laid-back fit kinda day. Something about you in all black makes me insanely horny. Secondly, your talking about me caught me off guard but my stomach was fluttering the entire time. And then that makeout earlier at the arena and in the bar? Yeah, I’m this close to literally passing out,”. You fall back into your seat for dramatic effect as Joe playfully rolls his eyes.
“Well then, maybe I should do something about it,” he says while looking over at you for a second.
“What are you proposing?”.
“Just lay back and relax,” he says. So you do as he says, knowing exactly where this would lead, especially because it wasn’t the first time.
His hand moves to part your legs, and then slowly moves higher up your thigh until his fingers are teasing the edge of your panties. He moved them to the side as you let out a quiet whimper because of the newly exposed skin meeting the cool air of the car. His fingers parted your folds, finding your wetness and sliding easily inside you. The feeling was intense, the rhythm slow and gentle as he explored the depths of your desire. You arched your back, pressing your body closer to his hand, needing more of his touch.
“Joe, Fuck,” you moaned as you felt pleasure overcome you.
His fingers moved in and out of you, a familiar sensation building with each stroke. Heat and pure ecstasy were coursing through your body, your breath coming in short gasps as you reached the edge of pleasure. Joe’s thumb found your clit, circling the sensitive bud and sending you fully over the edge.
“Ohhh,” you moaned as you threw your head back into the headrest.
You spent a few minutes catching your breath and he slid his fingers out of your core and up to his mouth, cleaning up the mess on his hand. “Sweet,” was all he said, flashing you a smile.
You laugh and say, “Can’t wait to get home, It’s your turn,”.
He looked over at you, pure lust in his eyes as he gripped the wheel strongly and pushed on the gas pedal a little harder. Once you got home, Joe parked in the garage and quickly pulled you out of the car, eagerly leading you through the halls of your home, not even giving you a moment to take your shoes off.
“Joe, slow down,” you giggle, slightly holding him back so he stops.
He turns around and stares into your eyes for a few seconds, then eyeing you up and down, before tossing you over his shoulders and leading you up the stairs. “Boy, someone is excited,” you laugh. He leads you into your bedroom and gently tosses you down against the silk sheets of your bed before slipping your heels off. He then kneels in between your thighs and captures your lips in a messy kiss.
You slide your hands into his messy curls and pull him closer, if that was even humanly possible, as he starts to fiddle with the straps of your dress. A few minutes later, both your clothes are now on the floor and you are back to making out, ignoring the fact that his boner was poking your thigh. You would never get enough of his lips, so soft and plump, very easy to get lost in. He pulls away and presses a few sloppy kisses around your neck before moving down your body.
You stop him before he goes further, “Wait. I told you that it was your turn next,”.
“You don’t have to, Y/N,” he smiles.
“Mmmm, too bad,” you say as you move out from under him, allowing him to lie back against the headboard. Once he gets settled, you straddle his hips and press a few kisses around his face, then kiss your way down his perfectly sculpted body. You reach his hard-on and wrap your hand around it, giving it a few pumps as pre-cum was beading at the tip.
You looked up at him, making intense eye contact, as you wrapped your soft lips around the tip of his cock, feeling him twitch in pleasure. You start to move your head back and forth, going deeper each time as sounds of pleasure escape Joe’s lips.
“Shit, you feel so good,”.
You continued to bob your head up and down his shaft until you felt him getting closer. Your hands gripped his thighs as you took him deeper and deeper, nearly choking up. His breathing became more erratic as you sucked him harder and faster. He slid his hands into your hair as started to buck his hips into your mouth, a sure sign he was about to cum.
“Fuckk,” he moaned as you felt hot spurts of his cum filling your mouth, making sure to swallow every drop. You slowly release him from your mouth and look up at him with nothing but love and adoration.
“You’re perfect,” you whisper, wiping the spit and salvia off of your mouth.
“And you’re amazing,” he says as he pulls you back on top of him. You let out a soft laugh before kissing the tip of his perfectly sculpted nose. “You still up for a little more?” you ask him.
A huge grin appears on his face, “Always,” he whispers as he moves closer, once again kissing you passionately. You break away to put each of your legs around him and he grabs your waist while moving down to lie back against the bed all the way. You leaned down to press a final kiss on his lips before lining up his cock with your slick entrance. You slide down his length, soft moans leaving both your lips as the feeling of fullness feels like you’re coming home.
You begin to move your hips in a slow, sensual rhythm. Your hands rested on his chest and your fresh manicure left a few marks as you dug your fingers into his tan skin.
“Fuck,” he moaned. “You feel so fucking good,”. His hands moved up and gripped your waist, helping you move back and forth to ease the soreness that you were definitely feeling by this point.
“Yeah,” you moaned.
“Faster Baby,” he whispered. You nodded and picked up the pace, riding him faster and harder. You could feel the tension building in his body, his muscles tensing beneath you as you moved with a steady, relentless pace. Joe started to buck his hips into your slick lower half, making you throw your head back in pleasure. Your breathy moans and sounds of skin slapping against skin filled the room.
“Shit,” you moaned as he continued to pound into you.
“You’re doing so good,” he whispered. You looked back down at him and smiled, he never missed a chance to praise you. He looked absolutely fucked out; his lips were red and swollen from the many kisses you shared, his hair askew, and a content grin on his face. The next few minutes passed by blissfully as you continued to ride him into oblivion. You leaned down, pressing your breasts against his chest, and started to bounce back onto his cock while moaning sweet nothings into his ear. His hands wrap around your back, pushing you closer and closer to his warm body.
“Fuck, I’m so close,” he moaned.
You whimpered in response as heat was building in your belly. He picked up his pace and continued to pound into your core as he felt your walls start to tighten around him. The pleasure became too much for you, so you bite down on his shoulder to muffle your screams.
“I’m cumming, Fuck,” he moaned. You felt his hands around your waist again, tightly gripping your plush skin, as you felt him shoot his load into your core.
“Y/N,” he groaned.
You lifted your head out of his shoulder and pulled him in for a sloppy and needy kiss to stifle his moans. You were once again lost in his lips so you didn’t even realize it but he somehow managed to flip you over so now you were laying back against the bed. He moved one of your legs around his waist and ruthlessly thrusted into your core to help you find your pleasure. Your whole body shaking as he pushed you deeper and deeper into the bed which each thrust.
“Come on Baby,” he groaned. You were so fucked out and the alcohol from earlier was finally in full effect so you had zero thoughts in your head. You just felt your boyfriend pounding into your core and the pleasure building inside your sore body.
“Mmph, Joe,” you whined as you felt the increasing wetness between you both. Breathy moans escaped your lips as you finally felt the rubber band in your belly snap, causing waves of intense and deep pleasure to wash over you.
“Fuckkk,” you whimpered. Joe gently collapsed on top of you, making sure he didn’t crush you with his weight. He pressed a few kisses on your neck as you remained in your high.
“Joeee, Fuck, you’re so good. It’s so good,” you moaned as your orgasm came over you. You spent a few minutes coming down from your intense high and held Joe close against your body. He whispered sweet nothings into your ear, telling you repeatedly how much he loved you like it was a sacred prayer.
You felt him press a kiss on your cheek before slowly sliding out of you, causing you to shrudder at the loss of contact. He went into the bathroom to grab a towel to clean you up before getting in bed; your body was too sore and tired to get up to wash off the sweat and cum.
“Thank you,” you said as he turned off the lights and got into bed next to you.
“No need to thank me, Y/N,” he chuckled.
“God damn, that was a workout,” you laughed as you turned over to face him.
“My favorite workout,” he smiled as he pulled you into his side. You rest your head on his bare chest as he plays with your messy hair for a few moments.
You looked up into his eyes and saw nothing but love and warmth. “I love you, Joe,”.
He moved his hand down to your face, cupping the side and caressing the soft skin of your cheek. “I love you so much, baby. I’m glad I get to show the world how much you mean to me. It’s you and me, forever,” he says before leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss on your lips.
“Always and forever,” you whisper against his lips. You moved back down to his chest and snuggled closer to him. You look back up for a second and see Joe falling asleep, a smile still present on his face. He was happy, you were happy. Everything was perfect.
—The End—
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Reader receives Yelenas nudes accidentally
Authors note: this probably doesn't actually count as an accident but I felt like it kinda still is I think? Anyway, hope you enjoy
Authors note 2.0: sorry it took so long to release this 💖
Word count: 796
Marvel Masterlist How They React To Masterlist
As the blonde tosses back another shot, her mind not only swirls with the effects of the alcohol but with an idea as well. It’s a bad idea, and will likely end with her having regrets and being embarrassed. But in her current state those things don’t really bother her like they should. So she decides to go ahead with the bad idea.
With a smirk she pulls out her phone and clumsily opens the messaging app. She clicks on her earlier conversation with you and then goes to add a picture. She scrolls through her camera roll until she finds her hidden album that contains the few naughty pics she's taken.
She spends probably far too long staring at her options before choosing one and attaching it to your messages. She debates on if she wants to send anything flirtatious with it, but in her muddled state she realizes she would probably do a poor job of getting any point across to you. So instead of adding anything she just presses send.
After realizing that yes, she did actually go through with it she sets her phone down and takes another shot, “O Bozhe(oh god)”
You're in your room across the compound, lazily lounging on your bed as you scroll through netflix looking for something to watch when your phone alerts you to a new message. Being as late as it is, you figured that not many of the other heroes would be up and wanting to chat, so the fact that one of them was texting you was a bit exciting because it meant you didn’t have to be bored alone.
You quickly grab your phone to see a text from Yelena and you smile. The two of you had become fast friends when Nat brought her onto the team, and have only gotten closer since. In fact, if you had to admit it you were harboring a not so small crush on the woman. But there was no way in hell you’d ever admit that, especially to her.
At least that's what you thought. But when you open her message to see a picture of not only her smug smirk but her bare breasts as well, you contemplate running off to her right then and there and admitting everything. You however manage to reign in that thought to fully think about the situation first and decide to type out a reply
Uh, Lena?
It takes her a minute to actually respond, Yes?
It's far too brief of a reply for you though and it also steps around the elephant in the messages entirely, You sent me a nude….
Yes.
You bite back the urge to ask if that was the only word she knew and instead decide to make this conversation an in person one. You shove your phone into your pocket and head off to find her. The first place you go is of course her room, and you knock on the door. There's a rustling on the other side before you hear footsteps, and that's when you realize something else must be going on here because you've never heard the spies' footsteps.
The door opens with quite a bit of enthusiasm, causing your brows to shoot up and your confusion only doubles when Yelena's face beams at you from the doorway.
“Y/n, hiii” she greets before giggling a bit. The smell of alcohol on her breath is apparent and you try not to laugh but it's a bit hard when she shushes herself. That's when you manage to get a glimpse behind her and into the room however, and the sight nearly empty vodka bottle on her bed and the few empty beer bottles on her bedside table has all the dots connecting for you
“Lena, you drink all that by yourself?”
She turns her entire body to look at where your gesturing and sways a bit, “Yup”
You can’t help but chuckle at the way she pops the p sound, “Well, that explains the picture then”
You had said it under your breath but she had still heard you and turns back around, “Oh yes! You like?”
“Lena I…” you're honestly at a loss for words. Because yes you did like it, but you can’t tell her that while she's so clearly drunk because she might hear your yes and see that as a way to attempt to do other activities. Activities she absolutely can’t consent to in her current state
“You didn’t” her frown brings you back out of your thoughts and you want nothing more than to kiss it off her face
Instead you gently cup her face, “How about, we get you tucked into bed and we talk about that wonderful pic in the morning”
Taglist: @lollygagger-s
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Glossy Nails
NEW NAILS, to feed your inner magpie 💅
I meshed this shape way before the war started, maybe in 2021. Those who follow me long enough have seen it posted as semi-abandoned WIP. Only 2 fingers were finished back then. I recall that somewhere in 2023 I wasn't feeling okay, so I opened this project and did the rest of the hand to occupy my mind with something. When I got back to these nails a couple of days ago, I realized they were basically done, just needed minor adjustments.
When I bake textures for my nails, I don't know what they're going to look like. Head empty. I play with materials and environment maps until something I personally like shows up. And since I'm a magpie, I end up going for ✨shine✨ Priorities.
I still haven't figured out the new preview style and had to use the old mediocre one. It's either I do this or these nails never see the light of day. Would be a shame to keep them in the basement any longer. I can't make proper use of them, but there are people who can.
I was so excited to add the 8th entry to my nails spreadsheet, and I finally did. But the sheet is going to break again soon because I'm already working on the next nails. At least they're fire.
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—﹒୨` TELL ME GOODBYE (part 1/?)
˖ ࣪ summary. in which they're gone, but you call them one last time to hear their voice. but instead of the silent beeps and the voicemail message, you hear his quiet breathing. or in which you get one last chance to say goodbye.
˖ ࣪ characters. diluc, kaeya.
( warnings ) around 1k words. angst. gn!reader. heavy mentions of death (his). kind of modern setting since it has phones. mentions of living together (diluc). non-fluent writer
( a/n ) this is based on a book called "you've reached sam" and on a personal experience. also i'm not 100% sure if i should make a series out of this or not, i just had this idea randomly after reading the book and relating to it. and i kind of wrote this in a rush after an entire night awake so... if there is anything confusing or any mistakes, i'm sorry. and yes, i know it's small but i'm starting back slow :')
It had already been a year since your life had completely fallen apart, ever since your lover's passing. You kept wondering if you had made a mistake somewhere down the line or if your life had simply always been this dull.
Though time had completely stopped for you, the outside kept moving on, only precious memories remaining, like flames that spring to life one last time before being completely diminished to ashes.
Before, it was common to joke that you'd never be able to spend even a moment without his presence by your side, but who would've thought? Now, you'd have to spend an entire lifetime without him.
You, above everyone, knew how unfair destiny could be. But of all people, did it have to be him?
It's almost as if things hadn't changed much.
Your reserved seat in the tavern is still there, but this time it's Charles who greets you every time, a compassionate look in his eyes. And you don't know why — actually, you do — but you always find yourself waiting for him. Waiting until the moment you'll hear the door to Angel's Share open, and this time, surely, this time it'll be him. And you'd smile at him like you always did, and ask "where have you been? I've been waiting for you all this time!". But for some reason, you can't imagine what his answer would be anymore.
You always look for him everywhere you go, his red hair in the middle of the crowd, standing out like a rose in a field of lilies. Back then, no matter how much you tried to surprise him from behind, he'd turn around and greet you, like he was able to find you anywhere. He always did.
You always find yourself waiting for him to come back from wherever he is — even if you know where he is. Besides his father, in the cemetery next to the church.
On his birthday, his grave was filled with flowers of all kinds, and on most days, there was a single Small Lamp Grass that you'd change every few times. Sometimes, Kaeya would add a pink carnation to the pile on the days you couldn't go visit Diluc.
It was by no means a lonely and abandoned place there. And if you could be honest with yourself, you'd even say that spending your entire day besides his grave was better than to come home to a empty house. The place in which your voice echoed to nothingness and the silence was unbearable. The future, so meticulously planned together, now mocking you from a distance, out of reach.
Walking from room to room, you find bits of Diluc everywhere, your voice barely above a whisper as you try to connect all the pieces back together. As you try to remember how it felt to have him there. And you can't. You realize, with a coldness in your chest and a choked up sigh, that the human mind could be something so fragile.
So instead of dwelling on a life that no longer exists, surrounded by the shadows of a presence forever gone, you call him, just like you used to do. And for a single moment, it feels like you're back to the past. During the days where Diluc would never let it ring more than twice before answering.
And it seems like it rings forever as you wait for the usual voicemail to start playing, his casual voice saying that he'd call again later if it was something important. But this time, you're greeted by silence. And you're about to start wondering if your phone had glitched, before a familiar voice greets you again.
"(Name)?"
And maybe, you've really gone insane after all this time. Because it was still his voice, in the same way he used to say your name, although now he whispered, almost as if he couldn't believe it himself. Even if this was all a dream, just the fact you could hear him say your name again was a blessing in itself.
So you whisper back, "I'm here".
You can't help but feel like you've been there before. More times than you'd like to admit. It was like people around you were always doomed to disaster, so much so that it made you wonder whether you were somehow cursed.
"Well, then maybe we should be cursed together." Was Kaeya's lighthearted answer to your worries. Although he had quite the charming smirk at the time, you knew he was being serious.
Kaeya was someone that spoke about forever as if he was talking about the weather. In the way he joked about never leaving no matter what happened, and making promises under the stars.
In the end, you won the bet that neither of you chose to participate, the one you didn't even know you were part of. A bet with fate. It was like it was a cruel and twisted joke from destiny itself. To show you that indeed, your 'curse' would always be your downfall. Because no matter how many times you'd been there before, watching yet another loved one being buried, you still never expected it.
A fool's hopeless dreams. Like a firefly chasing a shooting star. Always looking up for the brighter days only to end up in the rainiest ones.
You had always loved rain. But now all your flowers where withering and your plant pots were overflowing, because as much as water can nurture, it can also destroy when it has nowhere else to go.
Mourning sometimes led people to the strangest places. Some would start swearing they could hear their loved one voice calling for them in their home, in the street. Some would even see them. And you couldn't help but wish this paranoia to yourself, because ever since Kaeya was gone, there was a simple and unending cycle of silence. No matter how much time you wasted waiting for something to happen during the late nights awake, you were never blessed by his faint presence again, created by a mind affected by delusions.
And so, with trembling hands you decided to dial Kaeya's number again. Like it had been on instinct, a habit too difficult to let go of. You heard the familiar ringtone as you took comfort in it. Slowly trying to delude yourself that things were still the same, that Kaeya was somewhere simply busy with work and he would call you back in a few minutes.
But the call was unexpectedly picked up. You wondered whether someone else already had his number, and you couldn't help but be angry, because how could they? But it wasn't their fault. Instead, you decided to speak as if it was Kaeya there, on the other side.
"Why?" You asked. Why did you have to leave? Why did you accept to go on that trip? Why didn't you stay when I asked you to? There were many questions you wished to ask, but knew you'd probably never hear the answer to.
"Uh… shouldn't I have picked up?"
The other person in the line suddenly says, their voice cheerful and so painfully familiar. You wondered if there was anyone else in the world that could have his voice, and now that you paid attention to it, you could hear his calm breathing through the phone, the same one that you used to hear when you'd call each other late at night only to sleep 'together'.
It seemed almost impossible to be him, but this time you wished to fool yourself just a little bit.
"Kaeya?"
And you can swear you hear his quiet chuckle, the one he always did when you said something silly.
"Yes, it's me."
#genshin#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#genshin x you#genshin x gn!reader#genshin angst#diluc x reader#diluc angst#kaeya x reader#kaeya angst
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I have a lot of trouble reading amnesia fics, and I’ve decided to dissect that.
I think I just really struggle with reading the rest of the characters in constant emotional pain. I put myself in the shoes of the amnesiac and *i* feel guilty about not being able to remember them
So like. What would it take for me to write an amnesia fic? It would have to be one where no one is hurt by the amnesia. Maybe even one where amnesia is a good thing.
I think it would start from the (3rd person) pov of the person waking up with amnesia.
And it would be written so we as the readers aren’t suffering from the knowledge that the character’s family/friends are missing them/looking for them/sad at being forgotten.
So like. A lulaw fic maybe.
Law wakes up in the middle of nowhere. All he knows is his name and that there’s rage inside of him.
I think we’d meet members of the heart pirates early on, as a promise to the reader that his crew aren’t in pain missing him. They haven’t met, haven’t formed a crew.
Actually I’d like it if the heart pirates (as we know them) are scattered between other pirate crews and Law eventually picks them out and adds them to his own.
But that would be way later down the line.
I think it starts with him waking up in a little dinghy that’s washed ashore on an empty beach. No one around, totally lost, he tries to scavenge but all his inherent knowledge is how to fend for himself in city environments
So when a ship appears, he begs for a ride to… somewhere.
He’s welcomed warmly, excitedly, by the captain with the scar under his eye. The others aren’t as trusting, and the archaeologist looks like she wants to say something, but stops herself.
They bring him aboard and he awkwardly tries to integrate while unsure how much to trust them. He feels anger inside, still, and nothing to do With it.
I think eventually Robin tells him that she knows some of his story. Recognizes his tattoos.
He has his normal forearm and hand tats, but no hearts.
She tells of a man who matches his appearance who is wanted for burning a country to the ground.
He was second in command of a powerful pirate named Doflamingo, she says. No one knew what transpired between them exactly, but there had been an argument, a fight between them, one that destroyed miles of land around them. Scorched earth. No one had seen either since.
Law doesn’t gain his memories there but he wonders if that’s true. He wonders if he’s a monster.
What he knows about himself is he’s surly and can’t show emotions on his sleeve like the captain of his ship. He knows he feels rage.
He knows he doesn’t have natural warmth the way these people all seem to. A carefree joy and happiness that he’s surrounded by.
He thinks he must be evil.
He wonders what he’s supposed to do about that. Turn himself in?
Luffy says no, that’s dumb. You’re a pirate now, and anyway you don’t remember any of that shit so it would be stupid to turn yourself in.
He makes it sound simple.
Law doesn’t think it is.
Oh I think Bepo is on the straw hat crew.
I think he’s drawn to Law. They make quite a pair, the timid apologizing bear and the quiet, angry man.
I think when they reach a larger island, Bepo asks permission to follow Law. He’s worried about him. Doesn’t want him to be alone.
I think that’s the start of the heart pirates.
Penguin and Shachi are on Kid’s crew, and I think Kid only lets them follow Law because Penguin and Killer are married so they’ll always have SOME loyalty to him.
But they find him much later, after Law’s picked up a small ship with Bepo. They have a run in with the Kid pirates because Kid had MET Doffy and Law at some point previously and he tries to fight Law.
This is the first time Law learns he has a devil fruit.
Because he’s running from Kid (“I don’t fucking know you stop acting like I do!”) and Kid is confused why he’s not at the very least using room to get away.
When he stops trying to beat Law’s ass (mostly because Bepo protects him), Kid very angrily explains.
About the op op fruit and about how Law had been the one to sever his arm.
Law maybe has a panic about that. More proof he’s evil.
Kid says with Law’s fruit he didn’t have to worry about bleeding out at least. He just. Didn’t have an arm anymore.
Was that a kindness? Who knows?
(Eventually Law knows. He knows he was trying to help, knows there was something in him that told him enemies of Doffy were his allies).
Anyway he gets Penguin and Shachi there.
He still gets Jean Bart at Sabaody, the next time he sees Luffy.
He still keeps running into Luffy, the personification of warmth and the one who first saved him. There’s gratitude there. There’s love, later.
His memories come back to him in nightmares. Flevance. Doflamingo.
He doesn’t remember Cora.
He doesnt remember Cora but he does remember Doflamingo arranging a marriage. Charlotte Pudding (okay she’s like 10 years older in this timelines are hard). He didn’t tolerate her, but he could never disobey Doffy.
She DID escape the fire. He finds her over a year later. He gets back the memories she took, at Doffy’s command.
He remembers Cora.
The heart pirates get their name.
He gets his heart tattoos.
He knows where the anger in him came from. Even when she took his memories she couldn’t take the love and anger buried in him.
The next time he sees Luffy he’s a full fledged pirate captain with a crew who’s been there as he’s discovered himself.
He’s grateful to Luffy but Luffy doesn’t care about that.
He cares about the first time he sees Law smile with real joy on his face.
And then I dunno they kiss or something.
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icarus rising
(benji dunn/ethan hunt)
tw: suicidal ideation, talks of depression. if you struggle with any of those, please talk to a loved one or a health professional. you’re not alone.
Benji’s quiet, these days. Ethan would know, because he doesn’t dare stop at this desk all that often anymore. His friend’s focused on work, drowns in it, in his own little world.
It worries him. In a way. He wishes he would smile more. He would smile again. He misses the Benji from so many years ago, the freshly appointed field tech, the one who would flash him grins, teeth bared, his singular canine standing out, sharper than the left one.
Instead, this Benji is wistful. It’s what Ethan tells himself, to stop himself from using another word. Worn out. Depressed. Suicidal.
He recognises the pattern. Sees how empty his friend’s eyes are. How his hands seem rougher, how he’s heard about how he was often at the fighting ring. It was unusual, was it not ? For someone as soft as Benji to be amongst the sweaty crowds, throwing punches left and right. Hook, uppercut, swing—a nose is broken. It makes him sick, because he realises that maybe, just maybe, Benji had never been that sweet. Maybe it had been a facade to fool others. Maybe he’d always been so cold. Detached.
Benji’s not eating lunch anymore. They don’t see him leave his office at the break, but they never see him bring any food from home either. He’s lost weight, too. His face is sunken, and he looks visibly thinner. The muscles on his arms and back are more noticeable, and so are the scars on his wrists.
He’d stopped covering them with gauze the day Ethan confronted him about Kashmir. When he’d learnt about the hanging. It had been a slap in the face, and he wishes Benji would’ve just punched him. It would’ve been better than the furious look he’d gotten instead.
Or something.
He’s not in therapy, too. He knows this, because Benji told Jane about it. Said he didn’t have the time. Even with the IMF psychiatrists ? she’d asked. He’d just scoffed, apparently.
Ethan counted the scars on his wrists, actually. He had when he and Benji had gone on a mission together and his friend had fallen asleep in a teeshirt. He’d counted all of them, and now his stomach turns everytime he spots a new one. Fresher. Deeper.
He misses how warm Benji had once been. The field took the light out of him, and he hates himself for it. Hates himself for calling him in Shanghai. For Vienna. For having put him through all the hardships, over the years. Benji did not deserve any of the pain he’d gone through. The bomb. The rope. The torture.
He feels sick. Sick with guilt.
Benji should be laughing with other technicians, maybe have a partner to go home to, have dinner, watch TV. Share a pint.
Not this. Not the countless hours in front of a screen. Not the hideouts in shitty safehouses. Not the quick patching up after missions. The agony of on-the-spot stitches. The silence. The hurt.
The guilt.
The guilt.
The guilt.
Ethan moves at once, knocking on his friend’s office door. Despite their rooms being a few metres apart, he’d felt them drifting away from one another ever since Kashmir. Breaks his heart. His throat is tight, and he waits.
Seconds pass before the door unlocks.
Benji’s standing behind it, the first buttons of his shirt undone, his hair slicked back, except for a few strands. His eyes don’t exactly meet Ethan’s. They’re painted purple, a testament of the sleepless nights.
They stare at each other for a while. He wonders why he’s so afraid to speak. It was just Benji.
His best, most cherished, dearest friend.
It felt so foreign, now.
“Hey,” Benji finally, finally says. His tone is dry, like he doesn’t exactly have time for this. “Do you need anything ?”
Ethan’s voice’s missing. He just gapes.
“I don’t have all day…”
“We need to speak,” he ends up choking out, voice strained. “You and I.”
Benji recoils, but doesn’t add anything. He steps aside, letting him inside the room. He closes the door.
“What is it ?” he calmly asks, “is this about a mission ?”
“It’s about you.”
A pause.
“I don’t follow.”
“It feels like you’re…drifting away,” Ethan mutters, anxiously playing with his fingers. “From the team. From me.”
No answer.
“I miss you.”
“You see me everyday.”
“I miss your sarcastic remarks,” he bravely continues, “I miss how you’d protest against my stupid plans, and how you’d always have something kind of rude to say to me. I miss your smile, I miss…I miss the blue and gold of your eyes. Your laughter. I miss it. You. I miss…you.”
“I don’t understand, Ethan,” Benji softly replies, “I’m still me. I just…grew out my hair, I guess.”
“I miss us,” Ethan whispers, “it’s not been the same, those past months. You hide yourself in your office, you work until well after we all leave, you don’t come for bar nights, you don’t—you barely eat, I just—I’m worried about you.”
His friend’s face crumbles, and he averts his eyes.
“I’m okay.”
“You’re not. You’re not ! And I’m afraid—I’m afraid you’re going to do something desperate and Benji, I can’t—I can’t stand being so scared for you. Everyday I come in and worry you won’t be here anymore. Please,” Ethan begs, “it’s just me. Tell me what’s going on.”
“Nothing’s going on.”
“Benji…”
“You’re right,” Benji admits, “I’m trying to bury myself under work. It keeps me busy. I don’t sleep…a lot, and yeah, I forget to eat but I just—“ he swallows, blinking rapidly, “I…I’m just tired. I’m tired, Ethan.”
There’s a silence, where the words try and form themselves into sentences into his friend’s head. Trying to make sense of it all.
“Tired of the IMF ?” he asks gently, almost shy. “Of…of us…?”
“What ? No—yes—I—“ Benji shakes his head, going to sit on his chair again, face in his hands, “I don’t know. It feels like I’m drowning and I can’t…I can’t seem to stay afloat. It’s scaring me.”
“Why didn’t you tell me…?”
“Because you have other things to deal with, Ethan. My issues aren’t that important in the grand scheme of it all.”
“You’re more important than any nuclear weapon in any dictatorship,” Ethan then says, like it was the most obvious thing on the entire planet. “I’ll skip missions if it means I can stay with you.”
Benji scoffs, halfway between disbelieving and frankly haughty.
“Don’t stay things like that,” he breathlessly laughs, “I’m not a child who needs a nanny.”
“You’re a man who needs a friend,” the other one retorts. “Do you eat proper meals at home ?”
“Go ahead and say I look like shit.”
“You don’t look like you’re okay, Benji.”
“What do you know about that ?” Benji snaps, and the look of devastation on his friend’s face immediately makes him want to take it back. “I—no, I didn’t mean…”
“It’s because I know,” Ethan says, still, quietly walking up to him, “that I’m worried. That I recognise the signs.”
“I’m not mentally ill,” he blurts out, eyes bright and shiny with unshed tears, “I don’t need help.”
“But you do,” the other man whispers, cupping his face ever so carefully, worried he might just break from his touch. “And it’s okay. I want to help. We all do.”
“I’m not okay,” Benji finally breaks, letting the sob escape from his lips, face glued to Ethan’s shoulder, hands shaking so hard he doesn’t know what to do with them. “I’m not fucking okay, it’s so scary, E. I’m scared.”
“I’ve got you,” Ethan whispers, holding him so tight he could just crush him, nose buried in the silky blonde hair, “I’m here. I’m going to stay.”
“Don’t let go of me,” he cries, grasping the other’s back desperately, “I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die.”
“I won’t let that happen, Benj, I’m not giving up on you. I’ll never leave you. I’m with you, okay ? Rely on me.”
“I’m so scared—“
“I’ve got you. You’ll be okay. I promise.”
“I need you,” Benji sobs, undignified and loud, “I need you so much. I’m sorry—I’m sorry, I wanted to tell you, but I was so scared, and alone.”
“You’re not alone,” Ethan reassures him, “I’m here. So are Luther, Will, Jane and Ilsa. We’re all here for you. Yeah ? I promise it’ll be okay.”
“I want to die,” he admits, and that breaks Ethan’s heart. “But I was too scared to do it. So I’d just cut, or stop eating, and sleeping. It’d be a way to punish myself. Like I deserved it.”
“You don’t deserve any of it,” the other man chokes out, “you never did. You deserve—you deserve to be loved. You deserve warmth.”
Benji slightly pulls away, the retina of his eyes turning a light shade of pink, holding Ethan’s face in his own.
His eyes search for his, hesitant. Like he doesn’t quite dare.
Ethan is the one to close the gap between them, soft lips gently landing on rougher, chapped ones.
It doesn’t matter. They’re here, now. It’s all that matters.
He pulls away merely a few seconds later, daring to send Benji the smallest of smiles. The other man mimics him.
“You have a pretty smile,” Ethan whispers. “I missed it.”
“I missed you. I’m sorry for hiding, and…the dishonesty. For worrying you.”
“No more hiding, yeah ?”
Benji nods, resting his forehead on the other man’s.
“Promise.”
He knows he will not heal from a kiss. But he realises, upon waking up the next day, Ethan’s arm slung around his waist and his nose against his neck, that he feels like he can breathe again. That he wants to breathe again.
Maybe, he thinks, things would turn out okay.
Maybe, he will be okay.
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Episode 73 part 2
Just watched it, now to rewatch a couple of times with commentary. (Haven't had a chance to reverse TTv's lines.)
Why did TCam and TSpeaker wait to attack while TTv and G-Toilet were grumping at each other? Just deck the fucker! :D
Now we know yellow and green orb = explosion. Why didn't G-Toilet try the yellow and purple orb, though? TTv would be the most useful Titan to possess because he can command the other two.
I do like how TCam 'nuh-uh'd the yellow-and-purple orb! :D He's become genre-savvy.
Also lols at how un-gracefully TTv landed after doing a big sword attack. I guess rolling gracefully is hard when you're that size. (Also there's a cloud of black fog when he lands - did TTv summon some fog to disguise his ungainly fall? Because lmao)
G-Toilet appears to be fundamentally flush-proof, just like the first time the Alliance tried that. Maybe his cistern's empty.
Poor, poor Titan Speaker, getting parasitised again. I was surprised - I thought he'd be able to no-sell it this time, and we'd be misled into thinking the parasite had gottim but no, he crushed it or something. But he really does get re-parasitised! TTv says something, and it already sounds like 'Get this shit out' when not reversed, haha.
TCam speaks again! "You're mine." How is he doing that??
Rambo Toilet makes a re-appearance and narrowly avoids getting squished. Burrowing exploding toxic waste toilet is pretty cool - it's like a robot mole/crab. The blast radius even makes poor POV cam lose an arm!
We don't see TTv remove the parasite from TSpeaker - I wonder if DFB wrote it that way on purpose to give fans an opportunity to write/animate their own version of how that went down. (Maybe we'll get a look in the full version, which DFB said would have extra scenes.)
Fuck yes! TTv finally remembers he has some fuck-off back spikes!
Does G-Toilet say "You need me"?? I'll have to check once DFB makes the full episode and adds subs. Implying that G-Toilet is the only one who can stop the Astros, perhaps - or that G-Toilet knows some other secret that the Alliance wants to have.
"I will survive." Oh, now we know what the G stands for (Gloria Gaynor).
Wait, so what was in the shipping containers? Just a load of dripping piss rockets? That was all?
Oo, Titan TV is not a happy bunny.
Wait, why is it a thing that G-Toilet can fly over the horizon and stymie the Titans? They can all fly too; why don't they just follow him? :D
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#a silly little thing I made#ignore the cursed cat#it looked so empty I had to add something#I have a little thing planned to go along with this but oh well let’s see if I can pull it off#radioapple#alastor x lucifer#appleradio#alastor and lucifer#deerduck#deerduckie#radioapple fanart#Fanart#my art
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sometimes i think about the armor they're a little sad
#i like that their story is just a concept but i keep thinking of the possibilities#i want to give them friends i had this concept for a character who makes/fixes armor pieces that would be a friend of the armor for a long#time already but also idk if the armor goes around telling people they're actually empty or if thats something noticeable or not... maybe#only friends or people they want ro scare the shit out of see that (help)#the armor is kind of funny to me because they went through basically all stages of grief they're chill now but at some point they were#kind of an asshole scarying people in dungeons and doing pranks and stuff (HELP) so sometimes they look back and its like#that wasnt even them because it was so long ago and they probably dont even have the pieces of armor they used to have at that time#the armor of theseus... talking so much about ocs these days its how you know i have other stuff to do but theyre haunting me#actually ive been thinking about this one other old oc story and slightly changing parts that one is the true oc story of theseus#to me because i keep changing it. but also this time im like why didnt i add this thing here... i need it...#like when you give a character a specific trait and now because of that they mean the world to you yeah 🫶#lulu.txt#thinking about ocs. blows up it feels embarrassing sometimes so tumblr post not even about the ones that are making me blow up
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there’s a non-non-zero chance of success though… _(:3 」∠)_
#long depressing rant in the tags incoming ig? take warning!!#maybe it’s bc it’s 3am and i’m tired or maybe it’s bc of the 8-9 hour old fried vermicelli that i just gave up on eating but my head hurts~~#or maybe it could even be bc i spent like 3 hours unpacking my boxes (note: my fam moved last month) instead of chilling like i wanted to…#either way i saw some things while unpacking that i really should’ve left in the distant past and i’m feeling as empty as my stomach pre-米粉#though i did uncover a dogtag i had engraved years ago with nothing but a ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) on it so that was pretty funny#but other than that… i remembered all the weird things i had given up on in the past via the things i unearthed…#like cooking! i unpacked this huge 1k+ page thick cookbook thing and remembered that i had a phase where i liked to cook#then i remembered that i had mistaken salt for sugar while making some meat dish with a ton of soy sauce and byebye cooking confidence :(#and to add to that i also read a past essay of mine about my culture and i remembered my grandma and i. yeah.#and i also saw stuff from my old hobbies that i had to give up on due to money/time constraints and i just. yeah.#and not to forget all the stuff from my former friends… i swear i always get ghosted the moment we affirm that we’re friends lol#am i a walking maxed social link or something? lol? yeah i have no irl friends. none.#i’ve gotten used to it though~ i don’t mind having no friends. it leaves me with more time for myself and my sleep~#it’s just that… sometimes i get the urge to hop over the country border for some ~chewing gum~ shopping… but there’s no one to go with lol#or like when i see interesting-looking events going on at local attractions but there’s no one to check it out with… or something.#and that got me wondering… am i just wasting my life or something? it’s a new year right? so i should make some lifestyle changes too right?#…and so i bought a hairdryer for the first time a few days back. yeah. that’s enough change for 1 year. lol#who needs friends when you can have a nice warm hairdryer? blast away good pal!!!!!!!!!!!!#anyways yeah. that’s my 3am rant of the day. sorry if you read this lol#sunday’s 🧂saltfest🧂#h e lp i forgot to disable rbs on this for a bit i hate 3am brain smmmm </3
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hello tumblr ive returned and i present. stanley
#my art#kleki#the stanley parable#tspud stanley#i probably shouldve put something in the middle/top/left part but i dont know what...#this is supposed to be the zending room thing#the railing is from the path thing you go on before getting to the stair part#i think it had rails but i forgot#(i just had to put something there bc i drew him leaning on the line but then changed my mind because.#he was going to give the line scoliosis)#i might add something to this eventually to fill that empty space but idk. hey look at the cool background i made in 10 minutes#ANYWAY CAN YOU TELL I LOVE MESSING WITH COLOR PALETTES? i feel like im not too good at it#but it looks SO edible when it works out right#btw this is my stanley design i guess! yay! i'd draw narry but i can't get a design that i really like for him#LAST THING#i might be opening commissions soon if youre into that#and ill be needing examples for each style#so freeee commissions#ill make a post about it when its all ready but it might be a while#keep your eyes out for that cuz itll be first come first serve and i dont expect it to get filled up quick since i'm not very popular but#yeah#ok bye im done
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Saw that the Tumblr icon on my iPad changed so I went to see what’s up and WE FINALLY CAN REPLY WITH THE BLOG WE WANT !!! THANK YOU !!! Now staff make it so when you block someone it’s block on all sb too thanks I’m tired of blocking 3 times
#I’m tired of forgetting to add this is blah blah main when someone somment something on my sideblog 😭#my phone is sadly too full for the update but at least my iPad is ! I’ll answer on it when someone comment ckdnjdnd#now I’m leaving again !#oh I should update that my mom recognized she fucked up (will she learn a lesson though? only time we’ll tell us)#so she apologize my dad didn’t care but he went to get her at work today and they’ve been talking like nothing happen#since they had to go grocery shopping cause the fridge was empty#idk if they talked or they just decided it was better to not say anything and fight again#so I’m happy again don’t wanna d*e anymore until I look for job at least fkdndjdn#which is what I should do but I’m ignoring my problems reading ncjdndjnd#i waited at least today see if my parents were still on the verge of divorcing or not and they seem okay so I guess i’ll check 🙄#pray that I found something nice 😭#I’m tempted to find something that maybe I could work 4 days a week and not 5 but I’ll never find that#cause honestly I only pay for my phone and Sowon food + litter (and vet if needed) I don’t need that much#I did promise them I would pay for Puppy’s pills if I work though cause it’s like 200$ maybe less maybe more even I can’t remember a month#my mom is struggling bad since he got those pills it’s a lot for her small salary#I’m so lucky that my parents let me be even if they struggle but I feel so bad I need to get diagnose soon cause I’m difinetely anxious#and it’s ruining my life#also had to get check for ADHD and Autism words from my doctor for the ladder I’m personally not sure ? everyone tells me no#but those people knows nothing about autism they only person that says there’s ‘’high chance’#is bestie and she study in psychology a little for her field so I trust her judgement way more ! but maybe it’s just a mix of the other 2#that make it seem like I may who knows one day we’ll have the answers#okay I’m talking to much now I’ll go don’t know if I’ll come back soon but at least I wanted to tell you I felt better !#we are back at the normal worries only 🤪#alex.txt
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careful who you’re talking to
[coriolanus snow x reader]
desc: snow hears a conversation with the academy boys about the girl he is secretly seeing and wants them to know who you belong to
warnings: snow being snow like fr (toxic, controlling, insane, blah blah blah), smut, exhibitionism, public sex, unwarranted sexual comments about reader behind her back, she/her pronouns used, reader is wearing a dress, if i need to add any other warnings please lmk
a/n: hiiiii! i'm back again. this is slightly unhinged and i didn't mean for it to be this unhinged but anyway hope u enjoy, send any and all coriolanus requests my way! mwah mwah mwah ily
this work contains mature themes, minors dni
it was a cold night in the capitol, and you were steadily sipping a glass of posca to keep warm in your blood-red dress. the silky material was slit up your leg and cut down to reveal just the right amount of cleavage; you might feel a chill but you looked damn good and everybody knew it.
especially coriolanus snow. the two of you had been spending a lot of time together recently- behind bookshelves in the library, in dark corners of the academy halls, bend over desks in empty classrooms. it had begun as purely physical. stress relief. but after a month or so, you had each caught feelings for the other and were struggling with whether or not to admit it. and in that moment, he was also struggling tremendously to take his eyes off of you.
you stood talking across the room with arachne and livia, unable to concentrate on whatever meaningless gossip they were discussing with the feeling of coriolanus’ ice blue eyes on you; there was an electric thrill passing between you like you were connected with a live wire. to say your relationship so far had been hot and heavy would be an extremely severe understatement, and you found your mind constantly occupied with the thought of him touching you and the need to have him touch you again.
-
“i think y/n is checking me out,” festus creed smirked to the group of boys around him.
coriolanus almost snorted in amusement. you were obviously looking at him, and only him.
“something funny, snow?” gaius asked sharply. “jealous, perhaps?”
snow reserved his irritation. “not at all, breen.”
“whoever she is looking at,” felix stated earnestly, “i’m certainly jealous of them. i mean, just look at her. she looks fucking hot.”
festus nodded in agreement. “i’d love to rip that dress off of her. she acts so innocent, but you just know she likes it rough.”
coriolanus felt his blood boil. you were his. how dare they talk about you like you were a common whore? perhaps you did like it rough. he would know, he was the one fucking you. not these basic capitol losers. none of them could make you scream the way he did. none of them had scratches down their backs beneath their shirts from your nails. only he did. only he ever would, and he would make sure it stayed that way.
the other boys laughed, agreeing with festus. adding on their own ideas. detailing the ways they’d make you fuck them. describing the times you had supposedly sent them signals. assuming that you did not already belong to snow, that you would even think about going near them. that you would get on your knees for them like you always did for coriolanus.
he couldn’t listen to them any longer. “she’s seeing somebody,” he jeered, fixing the cuffs of his jacket and making definitive, unquestionable eye contact with you and subtly tilting his head towards the exit.
festus laughed incredulously. “is she now? i think we’d have heard.”
oh you’ll hear it alright.
“yes,” coriolanus replied with a chilling calm, watching you make your way to the door. “if you’ll excuse me.”
-
on the steps outside the ridiculously grand building, you waited patiently for snow to follow you out. it was only a few minutes before you heard the door open again, turning to face corio and immediately sensing anger. you worried, sometimes, about his anger. you knew he wouldn’t seriously harm you, but the same could most certainly not be said for any others who dared cross his path. the future president of panem could only afford so much blood on his hands.
“what’s wrong, coriolanus?” you asked gently.
he inhaled deeply and stared into your eyes in a way that strongly suggested you would be unable to walk the next morning. you waited for him to answer.
“you shouldn’t have worn that dress," he warned.
“what?”
“you heard me.”
either the cold or a fucked up part of you sent shivers down your spine, hairs standing up on your neck. your underwear dampened at his fury.
“i thought you would like it, corio,” you flirted, stepping closer to him. he placed a large, firm hand on your waist.
“i do like it, y/n,” he said before speaking in a low voice. “i would like it better if you took it off.”
you smiled and leaned up to kiss him, but he turned his head. you pulled a face in protest.
“behave,” he spat. “so desperate. do you not want to know why you shouldn’t have worn this?”
“yes, corio,” you replied, doing your best impression of somebody who wasn’t about to throw yourself on top of him. he liked when you were patient.
“because every man in that room wants to see it on their bedroom floor," he attested lowly.
“and you’re jealous,” you smirked.
coriolanus suddenly grabbed a fistful of your hair and roughly pulled your head backwards so that your face was tilted towards his. “and nobody else should be looking at you like that.”
a jolt of excitement ran through you. “corio-”
he gave your hair another tug. “say you’re mine.”
“am i yours?”
he realised instantly the meaning of your question. he didn’t have to think about his reply; he had thought about it every waking moment since the day you met. “you’re mine. say it.”
“i’m yours.”
“good girl,” snow spoke deeply before kissing you like he’d never kissed you before. without breaking apart from your lips, coriolanus guided you around to the side of the building. he counted the windows you passed until finally stopping by one that was cracked open and pushing you against the cold wall. as he removed his jacket and unfastened his belt, he looked inside the hall and you assumed he was checking no one was looking. he wasn’t. he was making sure that festus creed and the other boys were still stood in the same spot; directly in front of this particular window, and far enough from the rest of the partygoers that only the boys would hear you.
you gathered the skirt of your dress at your waist and wrapped your legs around corio’s sturdy form as he reached to move your underwear to the side. he circled your clit until you were practically whimpering, then slid two fingers inside of you.
“corio, feels so good,” you moaned softly.
he kept his same pace with his fingers, fucking you into a state of bliss where he knew you would be uninhibited and so drunk with his stimulation that people would think you’d finished every glass of posca in this stupid party. coriolanus was too good at what he was doing, you were on the edge of release within minutes and still desperately trying to quiet yourself in the name of dignity.
“corio, please, corio, i’m so close,” you whimpered into his neck.
he pulled away his hand, making you whine in displeasure. he liked to do that. liked to know he was in complete control of you, you would only cum when he willed it.
corio looked through the window again, but the boys had yet to hear anything out of the ordinary. they were still laughing amongst themselves. he unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock, using the slick on from your pussy to stroke himself before he pushed inside of you.
you tried again to stay quiet, but coriolanus began to coax you. “look at you, taking me so well. you wouldn’t let anybody else fuck you like this, would you? who makes you feel this good, huh?”
you couldn’t hold back anymore, his beautiful face spewing such foul things whilst fucking you raw and digging his fingertips into your flushed skin. “you do, corio. fuck,” you moaned, loudly enough that festus turned to look outside.
coriolanus smirked as they made eye contact. the initial confusion about the sounds coming from outside, the look of shock as he realised his classmate was balls deep in a girl he had pushed against the exterior of a building in the damn capitol, his face finally dropping as he realised who corio was fucking by the colour of your messed up hair and the visible strap of your dress, his eyes widening as he heard the things snow was saying to you.
your moans were getting louder too as you got even closer to your orgasm, whimpering corio’s name and repeating “i’m yours,” like a mantra.
snow took his gaze from the boys to you, feeling satisfied that he’d proved his point and starting to performatively enjoy himself, knowing yours weren't the only eyes on him. his pace quickened, driving you over the edge and making you clench around him as you came. he moaned aloud himself as continued to fuck you through your high and the overstimulation that came after until he finished inside of you.
you were completely fucked out, relishing the feeling of snow’s cum beginning to drip down your thighs after he swiftly removed your underwear to fold into his back pocket. he picked his discarded jacket up from the floor and placed it over your shoulders, kissing your head and leading you to the front of the building and helping you into a car which would take you both home. before you walked away from the window though, coriolanus smoothly pulled your lace panties from his pocket and waved them nonchalantly in the night air, catching the attention of the rest of the group. you would never have to know why he fucked you, only that the boys would stop bothering you now they knew who you belonged to.
#coriolanus snow#corio snow#coriolanus smut#coriolanus x reader#coriolanus x you#coriolanus fanfiction#coriolanus x y/n#coriolanus imagine#coriolanus x sejanus#president snow#coryo snow#snow x reader#snow x you#corio snow x reader#the hunger games#tbosas#coryo x reader#coryolanus snow#coriolanus snow smut#hunger games fanfiction#coriolanus snow fic
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following instructions
pairing: theodore nott x gryffindor reader
summary: enemies with benefits with theo where they're constantly insulting each other but they still can't get enough. smut. au where characters at hogwarts are aged up to be 19+. mdni. / requested by anonymous.
author's note: co-wrote this with lily (@softeliza) <3 we honestly wrote this as a theo x hermione, but swapped hermione for reader
✧ read part two: following instructions (headcanons) ✧
Theo's judging eyes watch as you dice the sopophorous bean before tossing it into your cauldron, your gaze shifting between your opened textbook and your cauldron. A bead of sweat drips from your forehead. You were meticulously following the directions, and yet something still didn't seem right about your potion.
Theo scoffs, shaking his head. What an idiot, he thinks.
"You're supposed to crush it." Theo says, demonstrating pointedly with a silver dagger and popping the squashed bean into his own cauldron. The cauldron bubbles, and the liquid shifts a shade darker.
"You're supposed to follow the instructions, which clearly say to cut it," you say through gritted teeth.
Potions was the one class Theo never followed the directions for, and yet he always seemed to be doing significantly better than you. You hated that.
"You know," you add with a huff, annoyance laced in your words. "Just because you don't respect the rules any other time doesn't mean you shouldn't follow a simple recipe."
There was something about pissing you off that gave Theo the right amount of joy to get him through the day. Hearing you huff at his words was like finding a jelly slug in a mountain of acid pops. It was glorious.
"Do you believe everything you read?" Theo asks mockingly, his eyes unmoving from the cauldron in front of him. He doesn't know why he was helping you—this was meant to be a competition for the coveted felix felicis. Maybe it was because Theo knew you weren't going to listen to him anyway. "Besides, I respect the rules." Theo says, but even he can't keep a straight face at his claim, his lips tugging into a smirk.
"I believe everything I read in a textbook," you say, your eyes narrowing and your mouth falling open in shock. Was he serious? "You know, that book of words that literally outlines how to make the potion? How else would you know how to brew it?" You hope he doesn't notice the genuine curiosity in your question. You actually wanted to know how Theo knew what to do all the time. It was so infuriating.
"Natural intelligence and charm." Theo says coolly.
In actuality, Theo had managed to find a textbook filled with inscriptions, correcting the printed text with tips and tricks on how to brew a potion every time. But he wasn't going to tell you that. Theo would gladly and happily let you believe he was gifted.
Theo peeks at your cauldron and has to hold a snort back. It looked just about ready to implode.
"This is a simple recipe, huh?" Theo muses. "Is that why your potion looks and smells like absolute shit?"
"Maybe I just thought I'd throw you a scrap with this one. I mean, we both know you're in desperate need of some luck, especially on the Quidditch pitch. If anyone needs this win, it's you."
"Oh, so you watch me on the pitch, do you?" Theo says with a smug grin.
You roll your eyes. Curse him.
Theo stirs counterclockwise a few times and then once again clockwise. The potion bubbles again. This time, it shifts into its final colour form. Bingo.
Theo, with an expression beaming with pride, calls over Professor Slughorn to inspect the potion. You zero in on Theo's cauldron and let out a small sigh. You didn't need confirmation from Slughorn to know that Theo did it. That bloody asshole did it.
Slughorn tosses a single leaf into the cauldron. The leaf disintegrates, and Slughorn clasps his hands together and announces, "We have a winner! Class dismissed!"
As Theo receives congratulations from all around, you begin to tidy your workspace, empty your cauldron, and pack your things. Anger boils in your stomach. As much as you tried to avert your gaze from Theo, your eyes are drawn to the tiny vile Slughorn passes to Theo. With a triumphant smirk thrown your way, he tucks the potion into his pocket before cleaning his workspace.
"Try to use it for something other than trying to sleep with girls," you quip, clutching your books to your chest. The confident, holier-than-thou persona slips over you like a glove. It was a default shield whenever you felt threatened, especially academically. And Theo was often on the receiving end of it all. "I mean, I'm sure you could use some luck in that department, but I doubt that's what Zygmunt Budge had in mind."
"I'm doing quite well in that department, actually." Theo says. With looks and an attitude like his, girls were flocking to him like nifflers to gold. "Much like potions, really. They all just come to me."
Theo awaits your signature glare and snarky remark, but he was simply met with a silent shove to his shoulder as you headed to the door. His brows furrow, disappointed in the lack of repartee, before Theo's walking after you. He falls into step with you, following you through the dimly lit corridors of the dungeon.
"What's the rush, little lion? Can't stomach losing?"
"I'm not in a rush; I just don't want to be around you. Don't you have some dingy hole to crawl back into?" You fume, your grip on your textbooks tightens, and your pace quickens.
"You wound me." Theo simpers, clutching his chest in mock-hurt.
Being in Theo's presence was getting you more and more riled up. You felt like you were minutes away from becoming a human version of a Filibuster Firework. Theo loved when you got like this. He can't quite pinpoint the exact moment he realized why he liked seeing you so worked up, but he's quickly reminded by the staggered breathing and the rapid rise and fall of your chest.
Theo continues to stroll alongside you, an air of arrogance in each step he takes. You quickly realize you have no idea where you're headed. The echoing of both your steps, coupled with the hovering nuisance on your side, makes you let out a sharp, frustrated exhale. You turn to Theo, glaring daggers into his stormy eyes.
"Can you just go? You're so—ugh." You growl, unable to find the proper words.
Theo's brows perk upward. There's something familiar about the expression you give him. He'd seen it before. Last time he'd seen it, the two of you ended up christening the boy's change room after a Quidditch match—Slytherin should beat Gryffindor more often.
Before you can articulate your frustrations, Theo grabs you by the wrist and pulls you into a vacant classroom. The feeling of his fingers around your wrist sends a jolt of warmth straight through your body. Theo pins you against the door, your books falling to the floor with a sharp thud. He skillfully locks the door with a slight flick of his wand before muttering the muffliato charm and putting his wand away. Darkened eyes meet your gaze, a mixture of amusement and want in his eyes.
"I'm so what?" Theo demands. His hand caresses your cheek before roughly wrapping around the base of your throat. "Use your words."
Your mind goes hazy, as if you've been confunded, the moment you feel his hand on your throat. You'd never admit how much you loved when Theo did that.
With a shaky breath, you meet his intense gaze to say, "Infuriating."
The way you reacted to Theo's touch was unlike any other girl he had the pleasure of fucking at Hogwarts. You were just so obvious, and Theo had no shame in admitting that he found it all extremely arousing. Of course, your mouth would claim otherwise, but Theo always had a plan to occupy your pretty little mouth.
You bite down on your lip, stifling the whimper begging to escape. Your breathing is in sync with each other, and the sexual tension makes the air around you thick.
"Are you going to fix it? Or are you just going to stand there like an idiot?" You tempt, leaning up slightly, just to see if he'll close the gap between your lips and his.
"I don't know," Theo responds, keeping a fair distance—only enough for your lips to brush lightly against his. To keep you wanting. Theo leans into your neck, ghosting breathy, teasing kisses up until he's milimeters away from your ear. "Are you going to say please?"
"You've got to be kidding," you huff, shooting a glare at Theo as you try to keep your breathing steady.
You weren't exactly experienced, at least not like Theo. You had a few moments with others, but no one had ever gotten you to feel as good as Theo did. It enraged you that Theo knew how good he made you feel, but you also took pleasure in knowing that you must be riling him up just as equally because Theo always seemed to come crawling back.
You bring your free hand up, tangling your fingers in his lush, brown locks, before tugging his head back a bit so he could look at you. He groans at this. It was one of many acts that really got Theo going, and it just so happened to be where your hands gravitated to the most.
"Please," you say, the tiniest of smirks on your lips.
Anticipation runs through your veins. You didn't need to say anything else. By the way he was looking at you, his lustful eyes boring into your gaze, Theo knew you needed him right now.
"Good girl," he muses with a cocky grin.
The first time Theo had praised you like that, while laced with ridicule, it had elicited a whimper that had him reeling. Today was no different.
Theo moves his hand from your throat and down to your waist, expertly pulling you away from the door and onto the desks behind him. Theo wastes no time and captures your lips with his. One hand finds your thigh, teasing up your bare skin and under your skirt. Your hands find and tug at his belt. Theo unbuckles it and tosses it aside.
"Let's see if you can keep it up." Theo says hotly against your lips.
It was in your nature to be good. But with Theo, there was that bubbling voice inside you that beckoned you to misbehave—to get under his skin. To be bad, all so he could teach you a lesson. Which is why, as Theo plants nippy, wet kisses down your neck, you can't help the words that blurt out of your mouth.
"Let's see if you can make me shake, like—what was that bloke's name..." You trail off, pulling him up by the collar of his shirt for another kiss and wrapping your legs around his waist to keep him close.
There was no other guy, of course, but you wanted him to think otherwise. The mischievous glint in your eyes changes to amusement as Theo's eyes darken. His fingers drag possessively across the insides of your thighs. It was hard for Theo to imagine you with someone else. You two weren't exclusive by any means, but the way you'd whimper and dig your nails into his back had him feeling territorial.
"Shake?" Theo asks against your lips. There was a tinge of something in his tone, and, deep down, you wanted it to be jealousy. "I'll fucking make you shake."
Feverish kisses move down your neck, eliciting a whine out of you, his free hands taking residence on the base of your throat. He plants open-mouthed kisses down the sensitive spots along your neck, sucking softly on the skin, surely leaving a mark everyone would be able to see. Theo pulls back to admire his work. He's pleased. You, on the other hand, were equal parts excited and annoyed. Excited because the sensation made the blood rush to your cheeks and to your core, and annoyed because you had to explain the markings to your friends.
"Theo," you hiss. "You know better."
Theo doesn't listen, obviously. Instead, he moves down your body until he's crouched and face-to-cunt. Slender fingers reach under your skirt, hook onto your panties, and slide the garment off. In an instant, Theo's between your legs, lapping his tongue relentlessly over your clit.
"Oh my god," you gasp, one hand grasping onto the edge of the desk, your back arching instinctively to bring yourself closer to his tongue. Your free hand finds his hair again, your hips rolling to meet his movements.
Theo's smirks into your core, a low groan escaping his lips as he feels you roll onto his mouth. Strong hands position themselves on either leg, urging you to spread your legs wider. You try to obey his silent requests, but it's not enough. Impatience hits him hard, and he's repositioning your legs so they're slung over his shoulders, a firm hand pushing your hips down onto the wooden desk. The new position allowed him to be flush against you, his tongue circling your entrance and lapping up any arousal.
"Theo," you moan, louder than normal.
You could tell he was pissed. It'd always been your goal, especially in intimate settings, but Theo had never been like this. He buries his face between your legs, his nose rubbing against your clit as his tongue works on your opening. He dips a finger in and withdraws it out of you slowly, contrasting his unyielding tongue. Your eyes flutter shut with pleasure.
"More," you choke out. "Please, give me more."
Your moans were fueling the already raging fire in him. Fuck, he needed to hear more of that. Theo uses his free hand to hold you steady, his tongue and lips unrelenting. He adds another digit inside of you, curling his fingers against your spot. Theo wanted to make you cum now more than ever. He wanted you to remember that even if you were fucking someone else, he was the only one who could make you unravel like this.
"Sit fucking still then," he growled against your slit, stormy eyes shooting up to look at you.
You fight hard to listen to him, desperately trying not to squirm. Theo was cruel enough to stop and leave you high and dry, so it was in your best interest to do as instructed. You dig your nails into the edge of the desk in an attempt to keep your focus on something other than the pleasure growing inside of you.
"Th-Theo," you gasp. "I—"
You're close, and you know what Theo wants—what he always wants. Theo wanted you to ask for permission, and with the image of someone else messing with you fresh in his mind, Theo needed to know he had that control over you now more than ever. Breathy pants fill the room, and you fear you can't hold it back any longer.
"Fuck, please. Can I please..." You moan, throwing your head back against the desk.
"Please what?" Theo says roughly against you. If Theo's cock wasn't already erect, it would be now. Your moans and gasps of pleasure were truly something that needed to be studied. Who knew these delightfully ragged breaths could come out of someone so irritatingly uptight? "Words, Y/L/N."
The fog of pleasure Theo has you in has made it impossible for you to do the one thing you pride yourself on: following the instructions. Typically, Theo would remove himself and make you beg for contact. Today, though, his actions were ceaseless. Despite your strong will to be good, your body wouldn't cooperate.
"Oh my god," you whimper, your back arching as an intense orgasm washes over you. Your body jerks—no, shakes—and your moans are broken up by desperate gasps as wave after wave hits you.
Theo curses under his breath. As pissed as he was that you didn't ask, Theo graciously allows you to release on his tongue, lapping up your sweet fluids. He'd reprimand you later. As you come down from your high, your body collapses onto the desk. You've never felt anything like that before.
Theo stands and slides his fingers out of you slowly. His darkened, lustful eyes are trained on yours. As much as he enjoyed the view, Theo wasn't happy.
"Don't," you breathe. "I know—I should have... I know."
"So much for following instructions," Theo says, disregarding your words. He licks your arousal off his fingers casually, and the sight makes you shift and clench your thighs together. He was the hottest irritant you've ever seen.
"Fuck off," you say with an exasperated huff. You prop yourself up by your elbows, slowly moving into a sitting position. "You didn't exactly help the situation."
So maybe Theo was being a bit of a prick. Not like he could help it—you squirming and moaning for him like that triggered something primal in him. Theo didn't want to stop; he wanted to make you scream for him. Still, it really shouldn't have been hard to ask.
By the way Theo was looking at you, you could tell it would take more than a crass brush-off to wipe the icy glare and pouted lips from his expression. Delicate fingers grip onto Theo's shirt, tugging him closer to you. You ghost your lips against his, meeting his steely gaze. "Will you let me make it up to you?"
You don't wait for a response. Instead, you nip at his bottom lip before pulling him in for a slow, deep kiss. Despite his annoyance, Theo kisses back, placing a strong hand behind your neck to keep you in place. The kiss is full of passion, anger, and need.
You maneuver yourself off the desk, unbreaking the hot kiss, as you reposition so that Theo's the one against the desk. He acknowledges you taking charge, and he allows it because, quite frankly, whenever you did take charge, Theo found it extremely intoxicating.
Only now do you break the kiss, peering up at Theo as your hands fumble with his pants. He kicks them off just as you remove your own top, making a point of leaving your bra intact. Theo's breath catches. God, he wanted to bury his face between the valley of your breasts.
"So?" You ask again, a devilish smirk on your lips, your fingers making progress on unbuttoning his collared shirt. "Will you?"
"Go on, then." Theo says. It's not lost on him how much leniency he gives you—not just in this moment. Any other girl who disobeyed his instructions would have been tossed aside so he could move on to the next. But with you, as vexing as you were, you also very much intrigued him.
At his permission, you lightly push him back so he's sitting on the desk, giving him a much comfortable position to watch as you slowly unhook your bra, letting the garment fall to the floor. You can sense his probing eyes on you, and you can't help the sly smile that appears as you straddle him, one leg on each side of him.
Theo's hands find your waist immediately, slowly sliding up your sides, to your bare back, and then to your front. He squeezes your breasts, eliciting a breathy moan from you. Your skin was soft under his rough hands.
"And I thought you were going to let that ego of yours make a horrible choice for the both of us." You tease.
Theo's too enamoured with this new position (and view) to respond to your jests. One hand rests firmly on your jaw as he pulls you in for a kiss, his teeth grazing your bottom lip. Meanwhile, your hand moves to stroke his length, feeling Theo grow even harder at your touch.
"Shit," Theo groans.
"Someone's missed me," you whisper against his lips. Your thumb teases the tip of his cock, evoking a slight twitch out of him.
"God, shut up."
Theo wanted nothing more than to wipe—no, fuck—that smug expression on your face. And he's just about ready to take matters into his own hands, but you beat him to it.
Still wet from your previous orgasm, you were beyond ready to have Theo inside you. You lift yourself up slightly, guiding him to your entrance. He bites back a groan, his hands gripping your waist. You lock gazes as you slowly lower yourself onto him, your mouth falling open in a glorious 'o' shape as you take all of him into you.
While this wasn't the first time you had Theodore Nott resting deeply in your cunt, you took a moment to adjust.
"Are you going to move, or what?" Theo growls impatiently, bucking his hips and roughly nipping at the soft skin on your neck.
His impatience makes you smirk.
"Hey," you say, with a wry smile. You snake your fingers up to his hair, tugging his head back slightly to give you room to trail a path of kisses along his neck. You were going to prolong this and make you both ache for more. You didn't want to be the only one who was a moaning mess today. "If I'm making it up to you, then it's my rules."
"You know I don't give a shit about rules."
"Too bad."
This makes Theo's jaw clench. Before he can utter another quip, you're rolling your hips, feeling him embedded inside you. The movement feels good, but you know it's not enough for either of you just yet.
"God, I'm thankful your ego isn't the only thing that's big," you moan against his ear.
This makes Theo's jaw clench. You hear a string of curse words in another language, something you've noticed Theo does in moments where his brain had short-circuited. Enough sense, it seems, is knocked back into him as you can understand the breathless words, "And you take me so fucking well."
Theo's lips find the top of your chest, kissing down feverishly. His tongue flicks expertly against your right nipple as his hand moves to grip your bare ass from under your skirt. You arch into him, letting out a sharp gasp at the dual sensation. Despite his sentiment about rules, Theo lets you control the pace. He holds back the strong desire to thrust upwards into you, to fuck you hard.
"Oh, Theo," you whine as you continue to roll your hips. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and lift yourself up, almost completely off his dick. Ghosting your lips against his, you push yourself back down—hard—feeling him go even deeper. You repeat these movements, your moans growing louder.
Theo can't stop the thoughts of how gorgeous you looked from clouding his mind. You weren't bad to look at normally, but seeing you fuck yourself with his cock had to be one of the wonders of the world. Only if that were a reality, Theo's not sure he could stand anyone else ogling you like this.
"Yes, that... that feels good." Theo groans, his cock throbbing from your movements.
You press your forehead against his, your eyes locking with his as you continue. One of the things Theo liked most about this little arrangement was your unnerving ability to keep eye contact—there was nothing more sexy than seeing the woman you were pleasuring crumble. Eyes can tell you everything.
"I'm trying to—" you breathe, rocking yourself against him. The movement wasn't nearly fast enough, but the way you were moving had him reaching depths you didn't know were attainable. "—to be good."
"Are you?" Theo asks between pants, squeezing your ass roughly. He leans into your lips. "Can you be a good girl for me now?"
You give him a small nod, your eyes fluttering shut for a moment. Your breath is quavering as you try to speak; your eyes re-lock onto his. "Am I not being good for you?"
This makes him chuckle darkly. Theo wasn't an idiot. He knew you practically yearned for his words of praise. The knowledge was something he took advantage of from time to time, withholding and dangling his praise in front of you just to see how far you'd go to make him say it.
To prove to Theo you were being good, you push yourself down onto him roughly, a whimper escaping your lips. You increase your speed, unable to hold out anymore, fucking yourself hard, deep, and fast on his cock.
"Fuck." Theo swears, and he can't help himself now. Hands keep you in place as he fucks up into you, cock hitting your spot repeatedly and mercilessly. He relishes the feeling of your wet core around him. Your clit presses against his pelvis at each thrust.
You took pleasure (literally and figuratively) in Theo's natural ability in knowing. He knew what to say, how to touch you so you were melting, and when to take back control. His hands digging into your hips told you everything you needed to know: Theo was going to fuck you senseless.
"I want to be good," you pant, your nails digging into his back, grasping for a release.
"Then you know what I want to hear."
He holds you flush against him, arms wrapping around you as he continues to thrust. He can feel his own pleasure grow. Your head falls onto his shoulder as you feel it building up in your stomach again. This time, you weren't going to wait until it was too late.
"Theo, please," you practically beg. Theo was the only person who'd ever make you feel like this, and you were past the point of caring whether he knew it too. "Can I cum, please? For you."
"Yes," Theo hisses. He was close too. "Cum for me. Now."
Your orgasm hits you hard and fast, your head falling back as you drag your nails into his skin. Theo continues to thrust up sharply, chasing the high for the both of you. You clench around his length, the sensation mixed with your moans pushing Theo over the edge.
"That's my good girl."
Theo's praise for you was not lost in the chorus of breathy moans and grunts of pleasure. His addition of the word 'my' made you shake even more as another wave of pleasure washes over you.
"Oh, God, yes, Theo."
His hand moves to the back of your neck desperately, guiding you into him for a passionate kiss as he spills into you with a moan.
Ragged breaths fill the room. There was always a moment of limbo after every encounter—a moment where the two of you stayed entangled and nestled with each other, savouring the proximity and stealing last, sweet kisses. You knew the moment you got up, the two of you would go back to despising each other again, until next time.
"So?" Theo asks after a moment, expectant of an answer, as if you could read his mind. "That dumb git you mentioned earlier. Was he better than me?"
His question makes you smirk, and you have to bite it back so as not to show how content you were that he had lingered on that thought.
"You don't want me to answer that," you say, giving him a small pat on the shoulder before getting up. You slip back into your clothes and adjust your hair.
The answer should have been obvious to Theo, but you weren't giving him the satisfaction of admitting it because it did nothing for your reality. This was as far as this would go. Theodore Nott was a pretentious asshole who just so happened to be a good fuck. There was never going to be more than that.
"You definitely exceeded expectations today, Theo," you say, gathering your books from the floor. "But you didn't do anything worth an outstanding."
With a swift flick of your wand, you unlock the door and leave Theo in the vacant classroom, already fantasizing about next time.
#if you squint this is theo x ravenclaw reader#theodore nott smut#theo nott smutt#theodore nott fanfiction#theodore nott imagine#theodore nott fanfic#theodore nott x reader#theo nott x reader#theodore nott x y/n#theo nott x y/n#theo nott x you#theodore nott x you#theodore nott#theo nott#*writing
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