#But seriously this is starting to get to me

[beenbaanbuun]

guard dog w/ jeong yunho

pt2

you live in a shitty apartment in a shitty neighbourhood surrounded by shitty neighbours who seem to make it their life’s work to make your life a living hell

the guy that lives across from you is an aspiring dj, emphasis on aspiring

unfortunately with him working the late shift at his supermarket job, it means he likes to practice late into the night

after the first 5 noice complaints, you just gave up trying to get a decent night sleep; part of you thinks he carried on just as one giant ‘fuck you’

the family that live upstairs aren’t great either

the son—timmy? tommy? who cares—thinks it’s fun to sit on the stairs with his buddies and smoke anything they can get their hands on

your air freshener is the only thing keeping you from losing your mind at them! well, that and the fact that quite frankly him and his friends terrify you

they watch you carefully as you make your way down the stairs, pushing through their congregation with a tight lipped, overly polite smile on your face

usually they don’t say a word, giving you little more acknowledgment than a hum as you thank them for barely making enough room for you to push through them

they make you nervous, you can’t deny that, and half of you thinks that’s the whole point

it’s like it’s some sort of strange power play to keep you from complaining to his parents, or worse, the landlord

not exactly a threat, but not not one

maybe it’s those nerves that made you open up to your friend one day

you’d met up with him at a local cafe, offering to pay for his coffee if he gave you half of the sandwich he’d brought with him

“they just spook me a little, y’know?” you mumble as a few crumbs topple over your bottom lip and onto your chin, “it’s a group of 10 over-grown teenage boys; it’s fucking intimidating!”

mingi just nods along, a small frown on his face as he listens to you complain about your living conditions for what seems like the millionth time

he gets it; moving is expensive, especially in the city, and you need to stay relatively close to where you work since you don’t have a car

it doesn’t mean he has to like it, though

“what about a guar—”

“a guard dog?” you cut him off, “mingi, we’ve had this conversation so many times before!”

it’s the truth; it seems like every single time you see him he brings up the same suggestion; scary dog privileges can get you very far in life according to you friend

“too mentally ill to look after another life, sure,” he reiterates the same point you make every single time, “but what about a hybrid?”

again, it feels like you’re in a constant loop of deja vu, destined to relive this conversation over and over again until you can finally afford to move out of that shit hole

“i can’t aff—”

“—afford a hybrid, yeah i know,” you roll your eyes as he finishes your sentence; jesus, he’s annoying, “but what if i told you i knew a guy?”

it sounds suspicious, but you won’t lie and say you’re not a little curious

perhaps you’re just a little too nosy to not lean in a little closer with a brow cocked a question of ‘who?’ primed on your tongue

“can’t say,” is all mingi says, “he doesn’t like people poking around in his business.”

he says it so nonchalantly as if he’s not your best friend who’s just announced that he knows someone who is almost definitely into some dodgy shit

you’d be a bad friend if you didn’t ask at least a few questions, but before you can even open your mouth, mingi beats you to it

“£200 will get you a hybrid though,” you almost choke on the sandwich at the price; this is some seriously dodgy guy if he’s selling hybrids for that little, “£300 if you start laying down preferences.”

“mingi,” you begin, about to beg him to get out of whatever business he’s getting himself involved in

“i’m assuming it’s a no?” he raises an eyebrow; you don’t even have to nod for him to understand your answer

he concedes, throwing his hands up in surrender like he always does whenever you have this conversation

still, the smirk on his face as the conversation moves onto something else doesn’t fill you with the upmost confidence

a week passes by rather quickly; you work, you come home, you go about your evenings as normal, you sleep

nothing seems any different, and why would it? nothing about your life ever really changes without some sort of built up or expectation

and then your doorbell rings

you assume it’s just your neighbour again, around at yours to ask you some sort of stupid question that could easy be solved using a single braincell and google

you trudge to the door with a sour look on your face and a bitterness already growing on your tongue, just to swing it open to see… not your neighbour

not anyone you recognise for that matter

your gaze travels up from the chest you stand eye-to-eye with, traipsing lazily over the defined muscles on his neck before reaching his face

a jaw set in stone, two steely brown eyes and a pair of jet black dog ears are what immediately catch your attention

that and the fact that he’s very handsome; so much so that it takes everything in you not to stare at him with your mouth wide open

“are you going to let me in?” he says as if the hybrid’s arrival at your door was at all expected by you

“who are you?” is the only response you can

“your guard dog,” he replies, and just like that everything clicks into place

mingi, that bastard

“but i didn’t pay for a guard dog,” you argue, hoping that it’ll be enough to make him go back to whatever creep it is that mingi has gotten involved with

“well, someone did.”

he looks bored as he uses a hand to push you aside and steps past you into your tiny apartment, as if this is just another day for him

maybe it is; you don’t know much about hybrids, but you’ve heard enough stories to know just how many of them go through life without a permanent home

they’re tossed from pillar to post as if they’re not conscious beings with minds and lives of their own

it’s sad, the fact that they can be so easily tossed aside by so many people

it’s even sadder to find yourself relating to that feeling

you shut the door, twisting the lock with a finality that you’re not sure you understand

“what’s your name?” you ask as you turn to face him

“yunho,” he sighs

it’s a pretty name, you think to yourself

one that you wouldn’t mind saying over and over again for the… foreseeable future…

seriously, fuck song mingi

“well i’m—”

“i know your name, puppy,” your mouth snaps shut at the authority that laces itself into his words, “it’s all i’ve heard for the past few days.”

you zip your mouth shut, something in your brain warning you not to speak out of turn

something in your brain seems to forget that this is your own home; surely you can speak whenever you want to

“i wasn’t sure what to expect, but you seem to fit the bill,” dark pupils land on your body, dancing up and down your form before finally meeting your eyes, “a pretty thing like you in a town like this? i’m shocked you’re still in one piece.”

“how dare you, i—”

“where am i sleeping?” he cuts you off like your complaints are little more than the stubborn words of a child

it irritates you to no end, and yet you can’t find the words to fight back

there’s just something in his eyes that has you convinced that maybe you’re not the one in charge here

“the couch,” you point to the ratty leather thing, feeling a slight twinge of guilt that it’s the only thing you have to offer

he takes a glance at at for just a second or two before shaking his head

“no,” he replies, “you have a double bed, right?”

“a double—” your eyes go wide, “you’re not sleeping in my bed!”

“yes, i am,” he insists, condescending and annoying. you hate him already, “because i’m certainly not sleeping on that thing, puppy.”

it doesn’t go unnoticed that he’s yet to use your name, instead sticking to that godforsaken nickname

if you thought it would make a difference, you might say something about it, but the stubborn arsehole has already shown enough of himself to make you understand that it would do very little

“the floor is available,” you spit, venemously

“and yet it tempts me even less than the sofa,” he smiles sarcastically and it boils your blood, “you’re just gonna have to get used to sharing.”

he takes a few paces forward until you’re having to crane your neck to look him in the eyes

you can practically feel his breath dancing across your cheeks as he lets out a low chuckle, a darkness washing over his face as he studies you

“you’re gonna have to get used to a lot of things now that i’m here,” warmth spreads across your cheek as his palm moves to cup it, “but that’s okay puppy, i can be patient while you learn.”

[milktiicup]

do you write for mr scarletella? :) if so, may i request jealous scarlet who makes attempts to get closer to reader (court them) after seeing how close they are to mr crawling

persistence is key

That creepy smile grows on his face. "You like me," he says like it’s a fact. “What the- what?” You share a glance with Mr. Crawling. “You slow in head?”

‧₊ ᵎᵎ 🍒 ⋅ ˚✮ yeah idk, lowkey some enemies to (potential) lovers, i have no idea how to characterise mr scarletella, but i tried my best and then i kinda got a little too invested in trying to spin the fic the way i wanted and wrote a little more than usual... sorry if ur disappointed, i tried to keep the whole courting/jealous thing subtle but still kinda there >w<

warnings. canon typical violence >w<

You’re not sure when you met the man in red, but you know he’s stalking you now. And it’s getting seriously old. Unlike the ghosts and monsters you’ve had the pleasure of meeting, this one doesn’t know how to take a hint.

Your first unofficial encounter with him is something that sent shivers down your spine, tucked away under Mr. Crawling’s arm and clutching onto his kimono for dear life. The second encounter was much worse- separated from your other worldly protector and left running down an almost comically long and creepy hallway where he just magically appears in front of you. 

You don’t even think twice before you smash the crowbar into his form with all your strength, but it was futile the way he flickered? in front of your own eyes and left a weird moist residue on your weapon. You scowled, and rudely pointed a finger at him- “What the hell’s your problem, dude?”

In response, he leaned in close- so close that your nose nearly touched his. The tilt of his scarlet umbrella cast a dark shadow over you, and as he peered down, one black eye appeared from behind his hair, locking onto you with a soul-piercing stare. You felt stripped bare under that gaze, vulnerable and exposed, like he was seeing straight into your core, uncovering forgotten memories, pieces of yourself even you couldn’t remember. He smiled—a slow, unsettling curl of his lips that chilled you to your bones—and said something you didn’t understand. It sounded like a question, maybe, though you couldn’t be sure. You didn’t care. You spat out a few choice words and swung again, hard.

At least for a while, he left you alone.

Has it been days, weeks, or even months since you’ve got here? It was difficult to keep track, and it was difficult to even care anymore. The place was, without a doubt, growing on you by the day. Even if it was filled with hostile creatures that wanted to eat you sometimes, and when your skin started to get discoloured and you had the inhuman itch that just could never be satisfied- it wasn’t that bad! Hell, you even made a few friends and claimed a comfortable bed in some random room you found.

However, just as you finally started settling into the place, you had your third encounter with Mr. Scarletella.

It started with a dream- from before you came to this world. That man in red… A test of courage, your friends called it- spending a night in those so-called ‘Ghost Apartments.’ Your friends hadn’t known it then, but you were quite familiar with the building for reasons, and set yourself up in a cosy corner and the night was supposed to sail smoothly.

A rumour had surfaced- a tale of a ruin that appears only on rainy days, where you’re warned never to give your name to the figure you’ll meet there. That figure, they said, would take your soul. At the end of a dim hallway, standing silently under a scarlet umbrella, he was waiting. The man in red, eyes hidden beneath his hair. He was watching you. Or was he? Somehow you could feel his stare even if you couldn’t see it. 

You woke up, heart pounding, muttering a string of curses. You groan, rubbing a hand down your face. The discoloration of your skin hadn’t gotten any worse, but it hadn’t gotten better, either. The longer you stayed here, the more the place left its mark. As long as you remained relatively human, and the only thing this place took from you was your memory, you weren’t too fussed. How could you possibly miss something from the other world when all you could remember was smashing a crowbar into someone’s head?

You swing your legs over the bed, feet touching the cold ground. The chill sent a jolt up your spine, and it was almost too tempting to get back under the cosy, warm sheets. You stretch your arms above your head, bones cracking and popping into place and mumble a hazy ‘Good morning’ to Mr. Crawling that should have been in the other bed. Silence wasn’t something you were used to around him- and you whip around so fast that you gave yourself whiplash.

Cursing, you grab your crowbar and stumble out of the room with a hand rubbing your tender neck. You didn’t need to look far- you could see Mr. Crawling at the end of the hallway.

And Mr. Scarletella. 

The man in red was bent over to be face to face with Mr. Crawling, all-too-familiar sinister smirk on his face. Mr. Crawling didn’t look so happy either, and they seemed to be having an argument. You stomp your feet as you make your way over to the two, hand tightening on your crowbar as you ready yourself to fight literal static if it meant leaving your best friend in here alone.

“You,” you scowl, pointing your weapon at him. “You problem?”

Mr. Crawling scurries to your side, a hand gripping onto your clothes. “Dangerous… should get away!” he urges, tugging. 

You shush him with a pat on his head with your free hand and continue to glare at that menace. 

“You like them?” is the only thing Mr. Scarletella asks with a tilt of his head, smile seemingly disappearing into thin air.

Glancing at Mr. Crawling, his face covered in worry- you feel the familiar itch of your skin. You take a breath, going through all the reasons why you can’t actually kill Mr. Scarletella, and loosen the grip on your crowbar. From what you can sense right now, he’s not actually that much of a threat. Just a nuisance that can’t seem to leave you alone. 

“Them friend,” you reply, deadpan. What type of question was that anyway? This guy was a freak. 

That creepy smile grows on his face. "You like me," he says like it’s a fact.

“What the- what?” You share a glance with Mr. Crawling. You turn back to Mr. Scarletella. “You slow in head?”

The smile on Mr. Scarletella’s face falters just for a moment, but it quickly returns, more chilling than before. He stands there, towering above you. Despite your snarky comment, he doesn’t look offended- no, it’s almost as if he’s intrigued by your resistance.

You tighten your hold on the crowbar. “You problem.” You frown. “Go away.”

Instead, his grin deepens, his head tilting at such an unnatural angle that you can feel your stomach churn. It’s as though he’s studying you, savouring every little bit of your discomfort. Surely, turning your head at that angle is gonna hurt… You audibly gulp.

“Problem later,” Mr. Scarletella says, and with an unsettling flicker, he’s gone. 

The next time you saw him after that was in less tense circumstances. It was unsettling after whatever that was with his coy little ‘Problem later’, you weren’t going to worry too much about it for the time being. You decided you’ll worry about it when the problem occurs, which probably wasn’t the smartest of ideas you had. 

The earth shakes, and you’re completely cut off from Mr. Crawling. Wandering down hallways, resting in random rooms- you never really felt alone. You turn a corner, dizziness growing by the minute, and pause.

“You again,” you sigh. You don’t even bother lifting your crowbar at him. “What do you want?”

He appears directly in front of you, causing you to stumble back a few steps at just how tall he is. He bends down to your eye level, umbrella covering both of you once again. “Give name?” he asks. 

“No. Go away.”

“Give name. Teach.”

“Go away!”

“Teach name.”

“Fine! My name’s… you pause. You didn’t actually have to give him your real name, did you? “...Silvair, or something.”

He gets closer to your face. You take another few steps back, but not before you get the smell of blood and dampness off of him. It takes all the willpower in your body to not scrunch your face up. 

“Wrong name.”

“So what? It’s a name.” You scoff. Mr. Scarletella is silent, eerily so, and you can feel his piercing gaze stare through you once more. You awkwardly avoid eye contact, and clear your throat. “I’m… gonna go now, okay?” You turn on your feet and only make it a few steps.

“You teach them name?”

Them? Mr. Crawling? That guy doesn’t even understand the concept of his own name! The scowl feels as if it’s permanently etched onto your face. You whip around, pointing another disapproving finger into his red raincoat. It feels fuzzy… and wet. It grosses you out, almost. More than Mr. Gap’s greasy hair.

“No,” you hiss. “I don’t even remember my own name.” He stares, silently.  “Me,” you point to yourself, “not know name.”

“...Not know name?” he echoes. What you said has him lost, you could see that. 

Just like that, he’s gone again. You don’t see him for a few more days, nor do you find Mr. Crawling. You spend your time aimlessly wandering, knowing eventually you’ll most likely find someone you know in a friendly manner, and not pondering if every ghost you come across is a friend or a foe. 

You awake promptly to a sound of a chainsaw revving. As if it was a morning routine, you stumble to your feet, grasping for your crowbar that should have, without a doubt, been next to you… only to grasp at air. Okay, now you are starting to feel a little panic.

Through trial and error, you knew that whatever wound you receive will heal, with time- but it doesn’t mean you were looking forward to being maimed to shreds with a chainsaw! 

“Hehe.”

You froze, heart racing, and slowly turn around. There that wretched little being was- the stupid little fucker in the goat costume. The ‘Hooded Child’, the thing was termed. In it’s stupid little fucking hands, it held you handy-dandy crowbar that’s been with you thick and thin. Your stomach churns. 

You gulp and face back towards the open doorway- a long black abyss, stretching on and on, with only the haunting bounce of that chainsaw, crawling along the walls. That chainsaw that was about to mince you in a matter of seconds. That chainsaw that was approaching you rapidly.

Frantically, you grab the nearest thing you could reach for. A metal chair. You wince. Probably not the best thing you could’ve grabbed, but it’ll have to do. It’s a matter of- well, technically life or life, but still! You could feel the sweat on your palms, the adrenaline pumping through your veins and your heart hammering through your ribcage. 

You lift the chair above your head as the monster comes into view- a tall, masked being in a strapless floor length black dress… wait, why was she dressed so sexy? Your surprise leads you to hesitate as she rushes at you with her machine. You let out a yelp as you whack the chair down in front of you, metal clanging echoing throughout the room.

Complete silence. Not even the sound of that chainsaw. Not even the sound of metal.  

“Huh?” You blink, once, twice, thrice at the sliced up body of that creature, blood splatter on your clothes. There was blood even on the ceiling, too… You drop the chair in utter confusion.  “What the hell?”

“Help you.”

“You again!” You spin on your feet, meeting the dull eyes of Mr. Scarletella. You’re about to huff and puff this guy into next week, but pause. You leave your accusing finger down by your side. This guy just saved you from that thing. You avert your eyes and scuff your feet against the ground with a cough into your fist. “Uhm… Thank you.”

Wow, this guy really has an intense stare… Way to make things unnecessarily intense and awkward. 

“Protect you,” he says. “You like me?”

“Take me out to dinner first, man!” you exclaim, crossing your arms over your chest. “Not like. You not bad. Not good. You okay.”

Mr. Scarletella dons an out of place frown that even makes you feel a little uneasy. “Them protect you. You like them.”

“Them friend,” you stress, finally meeting his gaze once more. You kind of regret it. This guy doesn’t blink. “You…” Weird? Off-putting? Freaky? “...unsafe.”

“Me safe. Protect you. Help you.” 

You sigh. “Unsafe to friend.”

He just stands there, holding that stupid umbrella, with that unblinking stare. You blink at him and squint your eyes. His facial expression doesn’t change. Completely unfazed. You can’t even tell if he’s confused, or upset, or whatever he could possibly be. Your breath hitches as his unsettlingly familiar smile returns.

He tilts his head. “Me good. Me show you.”

Then he’s gone again. You can finally breathe. Your heart is still pumping. You slide against the wall, landing on the ground and resting your head against your knees. You clutch at your raincoat with shaking fists. 

Mr. Scarletella - you knew he was meant to be dangerous, but he just saved you a whole lot of pain. Even if he was still a threat to Mr. Crawling, and hounds you for your name, asks you weird questions, could he honestly be as bad as you originally thought he was? You can’t deny that he did save you… but his presence is more dangerous than comforting. He’s both a threat and an aid, but never clear on which he’ll be at any given moment. One thing is for certain, however, and that was that he was persistent for your attention. Wait… 

Oh my good God, does he like you?

“Heh…”  Chuckling, you tuck your hair behind your ear. “I am pretty cute.”

You stand, and decide it’s better to think about while on the move back to Mr. Crawling. You reach for your crowbar, and curse. Of course. The Hooded Child took it with them when they disappeared when Mr. Stalkerella showed up. Well, you sigh as you drag the chair behind you as you exit the room, at least you have a temporary weapon, for now…

Making it back to Mr. Crawling didn’t take that much longer. He greets you, frown on his face and long arms wrapping around your waist. “Me worried! You gone long time!”  

“Long time,” you agree, bending down to his level. You ruffle his hair, a smile finally sliding onto your face. It quickly turns into a pout as you wave your empty hands. “Lost attack tool.” 

Mr. Crawling points to the spilled blood on your raincoat with a high pitched noise. You sheepishly giggle, and gesture to the chair behind you. He tilts his head, processing, before letting out his all familiar laugh. You sigh in content, glad to see a friendly face and let him pet you for a while. 

He stops petting you, and turns around. “Attack tool!” he smiles wide, your trusty weapon in his grey hands. “Them give me.”

“Them?” you repeat, taking the crowbar, twisting and turning it in your grasp. “Them who?”

“Them!” 

Curse this damn language. 

“Mr. Crawling,” you hold his face in your hands, “what look like?”

His smile falters, and if you could see his eyebrows, you’d imagine they would be furrowed. He takes a moment to think, and points to the blood on your raincoat, and attempts to imitate holding an…

Umbrella.

You stare. And stare. And stare. You can’t even begin to process what Mr. Crawling just said to you, debating maybe you actually were growing crazy and it was finally time to bounce out of this place- andddd of course, you notice a red flicker at the end of the hallway. You tilt your head past Mr. Crawling.

That scarlet umbrella tilts slightly, and just for a split second, you catch a glimmer of that piercing dark eye staring straight at you, as if watching every nerve fire under your skin. You can see his smile from here, as if it was a smug ‘I told you so’ but it was actually a ‘Me show you.’ 

Well… Mr. Scarletella did show you. And now you were just left, to put it simply, utterly fucking confused. It just drilled the narrative down deeper of the possibility that he did like you. So… what do you do now? Do you apologise for trying to smash his head in with a crowbar? For being so rude? 

How do you even apologise for something you don’t even remotely feel sorry for in the first place? Mr. Scarletella was creepy! …At least, he was kind of sweet. Not really- his intentions were anything but kind. But still!

You bite the inside of your cheek. …Is it wrong to feel a little flattered? There’s barely any romance in this place anyway!

In your world, things are either friend or foe, monster or protector. But Mr. Scarletella? He exists in some in-between place. Dangerous yet helpful. It’s as if he’s deliberately defying every category you try to force him into. And now, the memory of his unsettling question repeats in your mind- “You like me?” - echoing in your thoughts with a kind of twisted innocence that gnaws at you, a bit more with each repetition.

Mr. Crawling gives a soft, anxious chirp, tugging you slightly, drawing you out of your thoughts. He’s still eyeing the red figure warily. He points. “Them… dangerous? Them good?” 

“Not know,” you mumble, defeated. “Good, maybe.” You stand to your feet, crowbar falling off of your lap and clanging onto the floor. “Me, them, talk. You stay.”

Mr. Crawling makes a noise of protest, hand reaching out to grasp at your clothes. You reassuringly ruffle his hair once more, and make your way to the end of the hallway. You don’t hear him follow behind you.

Face to face, you stand in front of the smiling Mr. Scarletella. He stares down at you, unblinking, unmoving. 

“Can’t give name,” you remind him.

He leans his face down, ever so close. “Me like you.” A pause. “Want you.” Another pause. “You like me. Give me many human. Give me many blood.” 

Well… In your defence, you didn’t know your corpse dumping ground was Mr. Scarletella’s domain. 

“Getting in over your own head…” you grumble, and lift up your hand. You pinch your fingers together. “Little like you. Okay? LITTLE.” You wonder if this guy’s smile could get any bigger, geez… “You want big like?” You point your index towards him. “Be normal. Be good. Understand?”

“Normal? “Good?” He seems to chew over the words like they’re a foreign delicacy, his head tilting at that unnatural angle again. “For… you?”

“You good,” you waggle your finger at him, “I teach name. Maybe. If I can remember it…”

There’s an unnatural, prolonged silence in the air. You’re beginning to feel the awkward tension once more, but your resolve refuses you to break the unblinking eye contact you keep with him. 

And finally, he speaks once more, agreeing to your proposition, “You teach good, you teach name.”

You hold back your groan- whatever this dance you two were playing, was going to take a long time to progress.

But at least something is better than nothing, right?

[v6quewrlds]

❝ goodies, j. burrow. ❞  ‎ ‎ ┉  

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀summary: ja'marr is a lot of things, subtle is not one of them. when he drops the bomb of joe's no nut november pact, it's only fair you make it as difficult for him to stick to it as possible, right?

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀author's note: the idea that started this entire nnn series lol lsu joe 😵‍💫. day six of my no nut november series.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀warnings: smut, please do not interact with my work if you are under 18. language, established relationship, arkansas slander, reader is a menace, sexting, dick pic, unprotected sex, mention of the pull-out method, handjob.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀pairing: lsu!joe burrow x reader.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀word count: 6.2k.

Your living room buzzed with the chatter of friends and the distant sounds of a video game battle royale. You leaned into the couch, your elbow digging into the cushion as you listened to Alani and Portia's latest gossip, their laughter echoing off the walls. Across from you, Joe, Ja'Marr, and Justin were huddled around the TV, controllers in hand, immersed in a digital world of basketball glory. The aroma of pizza and the occasional snort of laughter filled the air.

Ja'Marr looked up from the screen and caught your eye, a sly smile spreading across his face. "So, Joe," he said, pausing the game, "How's No Nut November treating you?"

Joe's thumbs hovered over his controller, his eyes flicking over to you before returning to the screen. "It's fine, man. No big deal."

But your ears had perked up at the mention of the infamous challenge. You felt your eyebrows furrow in reaction to Joe's participation in something so ludicrous. "No Nut November?" you echoed, your voice laced with disbelief.

Ja'Marr chuckled, leaning back into the couch. "Yeah, Joe suggested we do it this season. You know, build up that testosterone for the big games."

Your eyes widened. "Wait, so you're telling me that if I showed up at your place, begging you to fuck me, you’d turn me down?” You challenged, your voice a blend of playfulness and disbelief.

Joe, ever the poker face, barely glanced away from the TV. "Well, you're not begging," he quipped, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "And it's not just about saying no. It's about self-discipline."

You rolled your eyes and whispered to Alani and Portia, "Can you believe this?" The three of you stifled your laughter, exchanging knowing glances.

"Hold up," Portia said, leaning towards you, "If Joe's really into this 'No Nut November' shit, maybe we can make a bet of our own."

Your eyes sparkled with mischief. "Yeah, like how much you think it'll take for him to crack?"

Your competitive spirit ignited. "I bet he won't make it through the week."

Alani and Portia's giggles grew louder, their eyes gleaming with excitement. "Okay," Alani drawled out as she thought for a moment. "We'll bet on it. If you can get Joe to break before the week is over, we'll buy your drinks for the rest of the month. But if he makes it, you're cleaning the apartment for the month."

Your mouth twitched with a smirk. "You're on," you said, tossing your hair over your shoulder. You knew Joe's resolve was iron-clad, but you had a few tricks up your sleeve.

"Are you seriously betting on my bet? That's cold, babe," Joe called out from the couch without taking his eyes off the TV, a hint of amusement in his voice. You stuck your tongue out at him before turning to your friends, your eyes gleaming with determination. "Game on," you said, raising your hand for a high five.

-

The week began with a series of subtle teases from you. You would strut into the room wearing nothing but Joe's oversized t-shirts, your bare legs leaving little to the imagination. You would bake his favorite cookies, their warm, sweet scent wafting through the apartment when he'd stop by to see you. You would casually drop sexually charged innuendos into typical conversations, watching Joe's reactions with a devilish glint in your eye.

But Joe remained unfazed, his resolve stronger than ever. Each day, he'd give you a knowing smile and say, "Good luck with that," before retreating back to his phone or his laptop. The tension grew thicker than the smell of those freshly baked cookies, and the conversations between the two of you were more heated than the Baton Rouge summer humidity.

One evening, as the week dragged on, you sat on the couch with Joe, your legs thrown over his lap, watching the latest episode of your favorite TV drama. You could feel the heat radiating from him, his muscular thighs tense beneath you. The room was dimly lit by the flickering TV screen, casting a warm glow on your faces. You leaned in closer, your breath hot against his neck, whispering sweet promises and nibbling on his ear. His grip on your thigh tightened, and you knew you had his full attention.

"Come on, Joe," you purred, your voice dripping with seductive challenge. "You can't tell me you're not feeling it."

Joe's jaw clenched, his eyes never leaving the TV. "Babe, I'm serious. This is a commitment I made. And I'm not losing."

Your smile grew wider, your eyes glinting with amusement. "Oh, I know you're serious," you whispered, your hand sliding up to his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart. "But I'm just saying, you've got to be close to the edge by now."

Joe's eyes darted to yours, a spark of annoyance mixed with lust. "I can handle it," he said firmly, his voice strained.

The days turned into a dance of temptation and denial. You upped your game, slipping into his apartment while he studied, dressed in his favorite set underneath an oversized hoodie, your moisturized skin glowing in the soft lamplight. You would whisper dirty thoughts in his ear, your breath tickling his skin, your fingers tracing the waistband of his sweatpants, feeling the growing bulge beneath. Each time, Joe would push you away with a gruff laugh, calling you relentless.

But you were more determined than ever. You knew Joe's weaknesses, the way he liked his kisses—needy, all tongue as you moaned into each other's mouths—and the way his eyes would glaze over when you touched him just right.

-

One evening, you decided to bring in the big guns. As you sat side by side in your bedroom, you leaned over and whispered, "Babe, I need you to help me with something."

Joe looked up from his laptop, his blue eyes piercing through the darkness. "What's up?"

You bit your bottom lip, your heart racing. "I can't focus on my homework," you whined, your voice low and seductive. "I'm just too distracted."

Joe raised an eyebrow. "What do you need my help with?"

You leaned closer, your hand sliding onto his thigh. "Well, you know what usually helps me focus..." You trailed off, your eyes flicking down to his crotch before meeting his gaze again.

Joe sighed, setting his laptop aside. "You're not playing fair," he said, though the smirk on his face betrayed the seriousness of his words. You giggled as you shrugged playfully. "But I need you, Joe. I really do."

The air grew thick with tension as Joe contemplated his options. He knew he was close to breaking, and your touch was making it increasingly difficult to hold out. You slid your hand up to his waistband, your thumb brushing against the bulge that had formed in his shorts. His breath hitched, his resolve wavering like a candle in a storm.

"Babe, I can't. You know the rules," Joe murmured, trying to ignore the heat building in his pants. But you weren't one to back down easily. You leaned in closer, your breath hot against his ear. "Please, Joe. Just a little bit," you begged, your voice a seductive purr.

Joe's hand shot up, gripping the back of your neck firmly, his eyes flashing with desire. "Babe, you're going to be the death of me," he groaned.

Your grin grew even wider, your brown eyes sparkling with mischief. You sat up, straddling him, your hips pressing into his lap. "Is that a yes?"

Joe's gaze drifted down to your full lips before he pushed you away, a little too roughly, his breathing ragged. "Nope. Not happening," he said, his voice finding its gruff firmness.

You pouted, your eyes glinting with determination. "Come on, Joe, I'm begging," you whispered, your voice filled with a mix of amusement and desperation.

Joe leaned back, his hand still on the back of your neck, his thumb stroking the sensitive skin there. "You know I can't," he said, his voice strained.

You leaned in, your breasts brushing against his chest. "But baby, I'm horny," you whined, your voice dripping with exaggerated need.

Joe's eyes narrowed, and he chuckled. "You're always horny."

You rolled your eyes as you shifted away from the bed, Joe's smug grin following you. "Fine," you said, pouting. "But you know this isn't over."

Joe chuckled, standing up and stretching. "I'll make it up to you after the month's over," he promised, leaning in to kiss your forehead.

-

By Friday night, you were more than ready to throw in the towel on your little bet. Joe would be playing against Arkansas Saturday night, and you knew he would practically be MIA most of the day. Sitting in the living room of your apartment, you had all but accepted defeat.

"You know what," you said to Alani and Portia, "I think I'm gonna lose."

Your friends exchanged knowing glances, their smiles smug. "You can't give up now," Alani said, nibbling on a slice of pizza. "You're so close to breaking him."

Portia nodded in agreement, her eyes glued to the TV. "Besides, the game's tomorrow. They're playing an SEC rival tomorrow, he might get caught up in the adrenaline and forget all about the challenge."

You scoffed. "Yeah, because Joe Burrow—Joe Cool if you will—is just gonna forget about his sacred 'No Nut November' because they beat Arkansas... a trash SEC team." But deep down, you knew they had a point. The pressure was on, and you had one last shot to win the bet.

That night, as the clock ticked closer to midnight, you lay on the couch, scrolling through your phone. Your mind was unable to focus on the trash reality show that had become a Friday night tradition for the three roommates. Alani and Portia were sprawled out on the floor, surrounded by snack wrappers and empty soda cans, their laughter bouncing off the walls.

Your phone buzzed in your hand, and you looked down to see a text from Joe. Your heart skipped a beat as you read the message.

You're home, right?

You responded, playing it cool.

Yeah, why?

Good.

Came his curt reply, followed by a photo that made you gasp. It was a picture of Joe's covered but visibly erect length, straining against the fabric of his shorts. Your eyes widened as you took in the sight, your pulse quickening.

Your boyfriend had never been one to send many pictures of himself, let alone pictures that bordered on nudes. You felt a thrill of victory run through you as you realized Joe was finally cracking under the pressure.

You texted back, your thumbs flying over the screen.

Oh, is that for me?

Joe's response was swift.

Yeah, it is. Fuck No Nut November.

The words sent a jolt of excitement through your body. You looked over at your roommates, who were now watching you with confused expressions.

"Joe just sent me a dick pic," you sang, rising to your feet, the excitement in your voice palpable.

Alani and Portia's laughter abruptly cut off, their eyes snapping to you in disbelief. "Wait, what?" Alani squealed, reaching for your phone. You dodged her hand, holding the device away with a grin.

Your phone pinged again with another incoming text from Joe.

Open the door.

Your eyes gleamed with victory as you strutted over to the door, your hips swaying with confidence. You threw it open to reveal Joe standing in the hallway, his expression a mix of frustration and need. He stepped into the apartment without saying a word, his eyes locked onto yours.

Your boyfriend was a beautiful man. Dirty blonde hair, blue eyes, clocking in well over 6 feet tall, with a gorgeous smile. But as he towered over you in the doorway, visibly frustrated with pink brushes of color over the bridge of his nose and the apples of his Louisiana sun-tanned cheeks, you couldn't help but feel as if he'd never been more beautiful.

"You told them?" Joe's voice was a mix of annoyance and amusement as he stepped into the apartment, closing the door firmly behind him, hand already reaching for the flesh of your hip. You nodded, unable to suppress the wide grin on your face.

"You sent me a dick pic, Joseph Burrow," you said with a smirk, leaning into his broad frame. The sight of him standing there, looking so flustered and needy, had your heart racing.

Joe rolled his eyes, his grip on your hips tightening. "I know," he said, his voice gruff. "I’ll get you guys your 20 bucks in a minute. Right now, I’ve got something more important to handle."

With that, he scooped you into his arms, his eyes dark with desire. You squealed with surprise, your friends’ laughter trailing behind the two of you as Joe carried you into your bedroom, kicking the door shut.

Alani and Portia giggled, retreating to the front door to give you two space. "Take all the time you need, we’ll find somewhere else to spend the night. Just don’t break the bed!" Alani called out as she closed the door behind her, leaving you and Joe alone in the apartment.

The room was bathed in a soft moonlight, the only sound was the rustling of your clothes as Joe laid you on the bed. He hovered over you, his gaze intense as he reached for the hem of your shirt. Your heart thundered in your chest as you watched Joe's strong, calloused hands peel away the layers of fabric, revealing your bare skin. His touch was like fire, leaving trails of heat wherever he went.

"So, Mr. Self-discipline," you smirked up at Joe as he hovered above you, the bed creaking under your combined weight, "What lesson have we learned this week?"

Joe's eyes narrowed in mock anger as he grabbed the waistband of your shorts, pulling them down. "The only lesson I've learned is that you're a distraction," he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

Your laughter turned into a breathy moan as Joe's mouth found your neck, kissing and sucking as he worked his way down your body. His hands skimmed over your curves, igniting a trail of pleasure that made your toes curl. You felt his erection press against your thigh, and you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer.

"I think we've both learned some things," you whispered, arching your back as Joe's teeth grazed your collarbone. His hands moved your hair away from your face to trail his kisses down to the valley between your breasts. Your eyes fluttered shut, and you couldn't help but whimper. "But the most important one is that I always win," you said, your voice filled with triumph.

Joe chuckled darkly, his eyes meeting yours as he peeled your panties away from your skin. "We'll see about that," he murmured, his voice a mix of challenge and lust. He held back a groan of appreciation as he took in the sight of your bare pussy, already glistening with need.

Your hands found the bottom of his shirt, tugging at the fabric until it was over his head, revealing his broad, muscular chest. You traced the lines of his obliques with your fingertips, feeling his muscles tighten beneath your touch. Joe leaned down to kiss you, his tongue sliding into your mouth with the same urgency that was building between your thighs.

He broke the kiss to pull his shorts off, his erection springing free, standing tall and proud. You licked your lips as you took in the sight of him, feeling a fresh wave of arousal wash over you.

Joe leaned over you, his breath warm and minty as he whispered, "You're so needy, baby. Couldn't go a week without me, huh?" You felt a rush of heat to your cheeks, but you didn't deny it. Your body was begging for his touch, your pussy throbbing with anticipation.

You smiled into the kiss he pressed to your lips. "Not as much as you, clearly."

Joe's smirk grew into a grin as he hovered above you, his cock standing proudly at attention. "Clearly," he murmured, his hand moving down to stroke your thigh, teasing the sensitive skin of your inner leg.

Your eyes fluttered closed as Joe's touch grew bolder, his fingers tracing the edge of your pussy. You were already wet for him, and you knew you wouldn't be able to hold out much longer. "You're so fucking beautiful, sweetheart," he whispered, his voice hoarse with need.

"Show me how much you've missed me, Joey," you urged, your voice breathy.

For a moment, he just stared at you, his eyes a stormy sea of blue. Then, with a curse, he gave in, pushing inside you with one swift stroke that made you arch off the bed with pleasure. Your nails dug into the sheets, your body stretching to accommodate his size. He was thick, and you felt every inch of him, filling you completely.

"Fuck," Joe groaned, burying his face in your neck. His hips began to move, setting a rhythm that had your toes curling and your legs shaking. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, your breasts bouncing with each thrust. The friction was exquisite, and you knew it wouldn't be long before you both started spiraling towards your climaxes.

Your hands trailed up from his back into the strands of his hair, his hips beginning to set a relentless pace that sent waves of ecstasy crashing over you. You could feel the tension in his body, the desperation that mirrored your own. You moaned his name, urging him on, your breath coming in pants that matched the rhythm of his thrusts.

"Jesus, babe," Joe grunted, his movements growing more erratic as he continued working you both to your orgasms. You could feel the muscles in his arms tensing, his hand reached down to draw your thigh to rest against his waist. His fingers squeezed at the soft, supple flesh until you knew you'd have bruises in the morning.

But you didn't care. All that mattered was the feeling of him inside you and the way he filled you so completely.

Your moans grew louder, filling the room as you gave in to the pleasure that had been denied for too long. You felt his muscles tense, his grip on your thigh tighten, and knew he was close to losing his battle against the bet.

"You're gonna break, baby," you whispered, your voice a seductive purr. "You're gonna lose the challenge."

Joe's eyes snapped to yours, a challenge gleaming in your depths. "Don't you fucking start with that shit right now," he growled, his breathing ragged despite the corners of his mouth twitching into a smile.

Joe groaned, the sound of pure agony and pleasure as he fought the urge to come too quickly. Your eyes glittered with excitement, your heart racing as you watched him struggle. But you weren't about to let him win.

He had hell to pay for making you wait.

You slid your hand down between your bodies, your fingertips circling your clit as Joe's cock hit just the right spot inside you. The combination was electric, and you could feel the beginnings of your orgasm building.

Your laugh was breathless, a sweet sound that seemed to push him closer to the edge. You sat up, your breasts bouncing with the movement, and kissed him deeply, your tongue dancing with his.

Joe’s eyes rolled back into his head, a low groan escaping his throat. He could feel his self-control slipping away, the pressure building to a crescendo that he hadn’t felt in weeks. He knew he was going to lose this bet, but he also knew it was going to be more than worth it.

"Let me know when you need to pull out." your voice seemed to curl around him, your eyes gleaming with mischief as you watched Joe’s face contort with pleasure.

"Fuck off, you’re enjoying this way too much," Joe murmured, his jaw clenched as he tried to hold back. "You're on the pill, remember?" He continued, his voice strained as he pushed into you deeper.

Your eyes sparkled with mischief as you nodded, your hands running over his back. "Mmhmm," you hummed, your hips rocking into his. "But I'm not ready to bring a little light-skinned baby into this world."

Joe groaned, his grip on your hips tightening. "Goddamn, babe," he warned, his voice strained. "Can't say shit like that when I'm about three seconds away from making it a reality."

"Pull out, dummy," you laughed, knowing he just wanted to prolong the inevitable.

He pulled out with a gasp, his cock glistening with your arousal. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment, your body begging for more. But you knew the game was still on.

He hissed out a strained, "Fuck," and your eyes widened as you watched Joe’s hand wrap around his throbbing cock, the veins bulging with the painful pulse of his ruined orgasm. The sight of his angry, red tip was almost too much for you to handle, but you bit your lip, keeping your own desire in check. He leaned over the side of the bed, reaching to pull out a condom from the stash in the nightstand.

With trembling fingers, he tore the packet open and rolled it over his erection. The anticipation was killing you, and you could feel your pussy clenching, begging for him to fill you up again.

"Get on top," Joe ordered, his voice gruff with need. You didn’t miss a beat, straddling him and sliding back onto his cock with a moan that seemed to resonate through your very bones. He filled you completely, stretching you in the most delicious way.

Your hands braced on his chest, you began to move, your hips rolling in a sensual dance that had Joe’s eyes crossing with pleasure. The head of his cock hit your g-spot with every thrust, and you could feel your orgasm building again. You threw your head back, your hair cascading down your back like a waterfall of chocolate silk.

The sound of your bodies slapping together filled the room, a symphony of pleasure that seemed to echo off the walls. Your breath grew ragged as you worked yourself closer to the edge, your eyes crafting a hazy image of Joe in his bliss. You could see the need in his gaze, the desire that was just barely being contained.

Joe’s hands roamed over your body, cupping your tits and teasing your nipples until they were pebbled and sensitive. He rolled them between his thumbs and forefingers, a smug smile playing on his lips as he watched your face contort with pleasure.

You leaned forward, your breasts pressing against his chest as you kissed him again, your tongue delving into his mouth with a hunger that matched his. You could feel Joe’s body tensing beneath you, his muscles straining as he held back his release. You broke the kiss, panting, your eyes locked on his.

"You’re so fucking beautiful, baby," Joe murmured against your neck as your hips rolled faster, your breaths coming in pants. He could feel the tightness of your pussy clamping down around him, your walls fluttering with the beginnings of your climax. His own release was barreling towards him like a freight train, the pressure in his balls becoming almost painful.

"Pain in my ass, but so fucking beautiful. "Joe’s voice was a gruff whisper in your ear as his hands moved to your ass, urging you to ride him harder.

You laughed wholeheartedly, a sweet sound that seemed to push Joe closer to the edge. You leaned back, your hands on his thighs, and increased your pace, feeling him swell inside you with every thrust. The sight of you bouncing on him, your pussy clenching around his cock, and your breasts engaged in their own mesmerizing dance, was almost too much.

"Don’t hold back, Joey, I can take it," you teased, your voice thick with lust as you continued to ride him with wild abandon.

Joe's eyes rolled back, and a guttural groan escaped his lips. His hands gripped your hips, guiding your movements, pushing you to the brink of his own release. The tension in the room was palpable, an intense mix of desire and competition that seemed to fuel your passion even further.

You threw your head back, your breaths coming in short, sharp gasps as you felt Joe's cock swell even more. You knew he was close, and you reveled in the power you had over him.

"Do it," you breathed out, your voice a command. "Come for me, baby."

Joe nodded frantically, eyes closing. Then with a whimper, he let go, his hot seed spilling into the condom. Your own orgasm crashed over you, your body shaking with the intensity of it. You remained like that for a few moments, your bodies entwined, breathing heavily as you both came down from your shared highs.

You collapsed onto Joe's chest, your heart racing. You felt his chest heave with his breaths, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of victory. You had won the bet, and more importantly, you had Joe's full attention again. You kissed him softly, your hand stroking his sweaty hair.

After a moment, you pulled back, your eyes twinkling with triumph. "How are you gonna explain this to Ja’Marr and Justin?" You asked, a smug smile playing on your lips.

Joe rolled his eyes, a grin spreading across his face despite his defeat. "I'll think of something. Maybe I'll say you’re a witch with magical pussy powers," he quipped, earning a playful smack from you.

"Asshole," you said with affection, snuggling into him. "You’re so gross."

Joe chuckled, his arms tightening around you. "But you love me anyway."

You couldn't help but laugh, the sound a sweet echo in the quiet room. "Unfortunately, I do."

The two of you lay together, basking in the aftermath of your passionate encounter, the only sound was your mingled breaths and the distant murmur of Baton Rouge outside. Joe separated from your warmth briefly to get rid of the soiled condom. You could feel his dick pulsing gently as it rested against your thigh, the reminder of his release. It was a feeling you hadn't felt in a while, and it brought a sense of contentment that you hadn't realized you had been missing.

Finally, Joe spoke up, his voice a low rumble against your ear. "You know, I should be mad at you."

You pulled back slightly, your smile fading into a look of concern. "Mad? Why?"

Joe sighed, his grip on you loosening. "Because you didn’t even give me a chance to win. You played dirty."

Your eyes sparkled with mischief. "But you love it when I play dirty." You wiggled your hips, feeling him harden against your thigh once more.

Joe groaned, his grip tightening again. "You're going to be the death of me," he said, though his voice held a playful lilt.

You giggled, leaning in for another kiss. "But what a way to go," you whispered, your breath warm against his skin.

Joe's chuckle was strained, his body still humming with the aftershocks of his orgasm. "True," he murmured, his eyes drifting shut as your kisses turned gentle, exploring his jaw and neck.

Your fingertips trailed over his chest, tracing the muscles that had flexed so beautifully under your touch just moments before. Slowly they trailed down to his semi-hard cock, which twitched at the contact. You couldn’t resist the urge to tease him, your nails scraping lightly over the sensitive skin.

Joe groaned, his smile growing wicked. "You're not helping." A large hand dipped down to your ass, giving it a firm squeeze before smacking it lightly. You giggled, the sound spurring his already raging libido.

Your fingers wrapped around him, stroking him with the same skill that had driven him to distraction the entire week. "What if I don't want to help?" you whispered, your eyes full of challenge.

Joe's eyes snapped open, his smirk turning predatory. "You're playing a dangerous game, babe." But the twitch in his cock told you he enjoyed it.

Your hand stroked him more firmly now, your thumb circling the sensitive head. "Isn't that what you love about me?" you purred, feeling the beginnings of his arousal building again.

Joe groaned, his eyes closing briefly as he fought the urge to let go again. "You're a menace," he murmured, his voice a mix of pleasure and exasperation.

"And you love it," you whispered, leaning down to kiss him again. Your hand never stopped moving, your touch growing more insistent as you felt him swell beneath you.

Joe’s eyes snapped open, a smoldering look in their depths. "Maybe," he conceded, his voice thick with lust.

Your smirk grew into a full-blown smile, your hand picking up the pace. The feel of him in your hand was intoxicating, and you knew you had him right where you wanted him. "Maybe?" you teased, your voice rising in mock innocence.

"Fine, I love it," Joe groaned, his hips bucking up to meet your strokes. "But you're going to pay for this."

With a flourish, Joe eased away from your hand and flipped you both over. You found yourself pinned beneath him, his eyes dark with desire. He reached over into the nightstand, grabbing another condom to replace the discarded one sitting in the small trashcan beside the bed.

"Oh, really?" you challenged, your voice laced with excitement. "And what do you plan to do to me?"

Joe's eyes glinted in the moonlight as he leaned over you, his teeth grazing your neck. "I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk straight," he murmured, his cock nudging against your entrance.

Your eyes widened with excitement, your pussy already slick with anticipation. "Is that a promise?" you whispered, your voice breathless.

"You bet your sweet ass it is," Joe said, his voice a low growl as he pushed into you again. Your walls clenched around him, and he had to bite back a moan at the feeling. He’d missed this, missed you, and he wasn’t going to let the opportunity pass without making it count.

He began to move, slow and deep, watching as your eyes glazed over with pleasure. Your nails dug into his back, leaving half-moons on his skin. Your moans grew louder with every stroke, and Joe knew he had you exactly where he wanted you. He leaned down, capturing your mouth in a kiss that was all passion and possession, his tongue dancing with yours as your hips met in a rhythm that seemed to be choreographed by fate itself.

The room grew hot, the scent of sex and sweat mingling with the faint hint of your perfume. The only light came from the moon, casting a soft glow over your tangled limbs. Your breath grew ragged, your moans turning to whimpers as Joe hit that spot inside you that made your toes curl. You felt your orgasm building again, a wave ready to crash over you at any moment.

But Joe wasn’t done with you yet. His hips picked up speed, his strokes becoming more forceful as he claimed your body once again. Your legs wrapped around his waist, your heels digging into his lower back as you matched his rhythm, urging him deeper. Your nails scored his back, leaving red lines in their wake as the intensity grew.

"Such a greedy girl," Joe murmured against your lips, his teeth grazing your bottom lip. He could feel you tighten around him, your pussy begging for release. He didn’t plan to give it to you just yet. He wanted to savor the feeling of you beneath him, savor the way you moaned his name like a prayer.

"Couldn’t let me go for a month, huh? Just had to have my cock fuckin' split you open, huh?" Joe grunted, his rhythm becoming erratic as his own release built.

Your eyes fluttered shut, your breathing coming in short gasps. "Y-yes," you managed to whimper out.

Joe’s smirk grew wider, his cock swelling even more inside you. He knew you were close, your pussy clenching around him. He reached between you, his thumb finding your clit, and began to rub it in small circles as he continued to fuck you hard. Your eyes snapped open, and you stared up at him with a mix of pleasure and desperation.

"Joe, I’m gonna—fuck, yes!" Your voice was a breathy whisper, your body trembling with anticipation.

Joe’s own need was palpable, his strokes becoming more urgent as he felt your walls tighten around him. "Come for me, baby. Show me how much I’ve been neglecting you." He growled, his voice a low rumble that made your insides clench.

Your eyes snapped open, meeting Joe’s intense gaze as you felt yourself teeter on the edge. The orgasm built, a crescendo of pleasure that made your toes curl and your body tighten. With a scream, you shattered, your pussy clenching around Joe’s cock in a vice-like grip that had him groaning in ecstasy. He followed you over the edge, his cock pulsing deep inside you as he filled you with his hot cum, the feeling of him losing control only adding to your own pleasure.

Your heart raced, your chest heaving with every breath. Joe leaned in, placing a soft kiss to your forehead, his thumb gently stroking your cheek. "You win, baby. You always win."

You grinned, your eyes still hazy with passion. "Damn right, I do."

You lay there basking in the afterglow, your bodies sticky with sweat and the scent of sex filling the room. Eventually, Joe rolled off you, his cock slipping out with a wet sound, his cum coating the material of the condom. He disposed of the second soiled condom and then collapsed onto the bed beside you, his chest heaving. You couldn’t help but admire the view, his muscles defined and glistening from the exertion.

"Fuck, I needed that," Joe mumbled, his voice thick with satisfaction.

You chuckled, turning onto your side to face him. "You say that every time we fuck, but it’s like you forget how good it is when you go on those stupid bets," you teased, playfully poking his chest.

Joe caught your hand, bringing it to his mouth for a kiss. "Maybe I need the bets to remind me how much I miss this when I’m not getting it," he said, his voice still rough from his orgasm.

Your eyes searched his, and you could see the truth in them. Despite the teasing, you knew he enjoyed the challenge you presented, and the thrill of the chase was just as much a part of your relationship as your intimate moments of passion. You leaned in to kiss him, your lips meeting in a gentle caress that spoke of something deeper than the physical connection you had just shared.

As you two lay there, your hearts slowly returning to a steady beat, your mind raced with the implications of your victory. You had won the bet, but more importantly, you had proven to Joe that you could break through his walls of self-control. It was a dizzy feeling, one that filled you with a newfound sense of power in your relationship.

"So, what do I get for winning?" you asked, your voice still husky from your love-making.

Joe chuckled, his chest rising and falling with his breaths. "What do you want?" he replied, his eyes playfully challenging yours.

You pretended to think for a moment, your hand tracing a line down Joe’s chest. "How about you never make a stupid bet like that again?" you suggested with a cheeky smile.

Joe rolled his eyes, but the grin on his face betrayed his amusement. "Okay, fine, I’ll never do a No Nut November again if you promise to leave my fantasy football league alone," he countered, his hand coming up to cup your face, his thumb stroking your cheek gently.

Your eyes lit up with mischief. "You’re an NCAA athlete, you shouldn’t be betting in the first place."

"Hey, a guy’s gotta have fun somehow," Joe said with a grin. He kissed you again, his hand resting innocently on your body for the first time that week.

Your smile turned sly. "Well, you definitely had your fun tonight. I’m surprised you have anything left in you after that performance."

Joe’s grin turned wolfish, his eyes darkening with renewed desire. "Oh, don’t you worry, baby. I’ve got plenty more where that came from." His hand trailed down to your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze before sliding up to cup your ass. You giggled, squirming against him.

"That’s enough for tonight, Joseph. Maybe if you win tomorrow’s game, I’ll consider it," you teased, playfully swatting his hand away.

Joe’s eyes narrowed, his competitive spirit riled up. "Against Arkansas? Babe, have some faith in me, holy shit," he said, his voice a low rumble as you both laughed. "But when I win, you’re all mine for the weekend. No distractions, no friends, just you and me."

Your pulse quickened at the thought of an uninterrupted weekend of Joe’s undivided attention. "Can't wait," you whispered.

[heartmix]

Spoiled - LN4

Pairing: Lando Norris x gn!reader

Word Count: 800+

Warning: making fun of the british (slightly), expired food

A/N: the idea popped into my head after watching max's stream a few days ago. Also i'm pretty sure its Lando's birthday already somewhere in europe!

F1 Masterlist / Masterlist

Some days you wondered how Lando was still alive. Never mind driving a rocket ship on wheels for living, no, it was because he decide to put anything in his body without a second thought. Despite spending millions on cars and watches and other material items he didn't give a second thought about something he needs to survive, food. You blamed it on him being british and the fact that they don't have anything good to eat. You knew about the sweet potato incident, even if it was before you knew him. Finding out he went and ate spoiled food again was enough to give you the ick and put your foot down.

The plan was simple. Buy new groceries, do some meal prep and clean out the fridge for Lando while he was playing Tarkov with his friends. He mentioned that he was going to play all day and that max was going to stream later on in the night. That gave you enough time to run to the store and cook some easy meals so you could surprise him with a full fridge.

After waking up early and sending a text to Lando that you were going to drop off something later tonight, you headed to the grocery store to pick up everything you needed. A bunch of fresh produce to meal prep and some snacks that can last on the shelf for a few months. With Lando's strict diet (or lack of there) you pulled out all the stops for a healthy and tasty meal. 

As night time crept up you packed everything in bags and made your way over to his apartment. You got a notification that max started his stream a few ago so it was the perfect time to sneak in and fill his kitchen while dropping off some dinner. Any noise you made wouldn't be too out of the blue seeing as he knew you were coming and that you already had a key. 

While entering the house you could already hear the screaming and weird random sounds coming out of your boyfriends gaming room. That should keep him distracted for awhile. First you started with cleaning and sterilizing his fridge. Doubt he didn't have much which is probably why he ate expired chicken, but one could never be too careful. Once that was over with you packed away all his food that should last for the week. Seeing the finished product brought a smile to your face. At least he was going to be eating good for the week. 

Once his current raid ended you quietly made your way into the room being aware that his mic was on and that possibly a couple thousand fans could hear what could be said, even with this shit mic. When his door opened he saw you and an immediate smile was plastered on his face. 

"Hey baby." He smiled taking off his headphones and motioning you to come by him.

"Hi. I just came to drop off dinner. Don't want to keep you long." You smiled placing the plastic bag on his desk before he pulled you onto his lap.

"It's okay, raid just ended and the mic is off. Stay for a few seconds."

"Alright. I made you my famous stir fry. There's another serving in the fridge for tomorrow." You said bringing out the food and fork setting it up for him.

"What would i do without you."

"Eat expired chicken." 

"Haha i get it." He gave a fake laugh making a real one erupt from your throat. 

"Yeah you seriously gave me the ick. This was going to be a surprise but i stocked up your fridge and did some meal prep. You just have to heat it up in the microwave, although i'm scared you'll even mess that up." You laughed at another joke your boyfriend seemed to be the butt of. 

"Move in with me." All of the joking mood went out of the room as he looked at you with a serious almost pleading expression. 

For you it came out of the blue. Sure you've been together for almost two years and you've spent a good portion out of the year traveling with him to races, but moving in together never crossed your mind. It seemed like the next logical thing in the relationship but neither of you brought the topic up till now. 

"What?"

"Sorry, i was either going to blurt out that or marry me. I figure it's best to go in order." The words came out like it wasn't the most bizarre thing he could say in the moment. 

"You're crazy."

"Yeah, for you. So what do you say?" How could you say no to that adorable smile.

"Well someone needs to keep you alive." a smile slowly crept upon your face liking the idea of seeing with him more and being closer to him. Also it would save you money, monaco wasn't cheap. 

"Perfect." He said leaning in for a kiss before you pulled away. 

"I'm not kissing you after you just ate expired chicken."  

"That was yesterday!" 

[honey-tongued-devil]

Got a request: Jinx x Piltover reader who comes to the undercity a lot to see some action and excitement with Jinx thinking they’re from there only to find out that they’re from topside.

[Arcane preference zaunites] with a s/o from Piltover (viktor, ekko, silco, vander, jinx, vi, sevika)

In less than a week, I’ve gained 500 followers and over 20 requests, so I’ll ask you right away to please be patient. English isn’t my first language, and I don’t think I’ll be able to post more than two or three headcanons a week (since I also draw). I’m sorry to keep you waiting, but I just ask for a little patience. In the meantime, if you’d like to support me, you can follow me HERE (bluesky) even though I haven’t started posting seriously yet, or you can leave a tip HERE. That said, enjoy!

Viktor:

- The most versatile on the subject. He’s the first one who is constantly around the people of Piltover, studying and having his room at the academy, which is even located in a wealthy area.

- Generally, he doesn’t pay much attention to someone’s origins, but as the relationship grows more serious, memories of his early academy years become more vivid.

- Viktor is a chill guy, until he’s no longer chill, (at least the original one).

- Most heated discussions are likely to revolve around politics or events in the city. But as long as you don’t call the people from the Undercity “beasts,” “creatures,” “monsters,” “beings,” or “animals,” his anger won’t be directed at you.

- At some point, he won’t remember anymore that you’re from “different neighborhoods,” and since he needs a hand carrying things to the academy, he’ll start asking you to accompany him to the Undercity when he needs to make purchases or pick up pre-ordered items.

- And although it might scare or intimidate you at first, it won’t take long for you to get used to it.

- Although sooner or later, you’ll learn to change your clothes before going down to Zaun.

Ekko:

- The first meeting with Ekko is straight out of a book: you get caught in a crossfire, and before you can even begin mentally writing your will, an arm grabs you around the torso and pulls you away at such a high speed that you feel like throwing up.

- He can’t take people directly to the hideout, but he can offer you assistance as soon as you’re somewhere safer.

- This is why, the second time he saves you, he can’t help but joke about how it almost seems like you put yourself in danger on purpose, and that you could ask him out in a less dramatic way.

- Of course, he’s just joking to break the tension, but when you actually propose it, even just as a way to repay him, it’s the beginning of the end.

- Between your outfit and the fact that, having run into you twice in a crossfire, you were in some pretty dangerous places, the last thing he expected was for you to ask him to meet up at the bridge and then show up dressed like a Piltie.

- Before his meeting with Cait and the one with Jayce, this would’ve been a breaking point; he wouldn’t have shown up and would’ve just gone back. But now, even if he’s not thrilled, he’ll at least come over to complain that you didn’t tell him you were from the upper city.

- He’s resigned to this fate, but he still remains a bit suspicious and on guard, not knowing your political stance, why you were down there, or how you see the people from his city.

- Even as you become closer, he’ll never stop teasing you about your background. You’re drinking, and you drop your cup? “What a strange way Pilties have of drinking.”

Vander:

- Going down to Zaun without stopping by the Last Drop is a waste, which is why you’re lucky enough to run into the Hound of the underground right away. Not only is he one of the most influential people, but also one with a lot of connections.

- At Vander’s suggestion, you stay at the counter, and he uses the opportunity to ask you a few questions, curious: for example, why is someone from Piltover down in Zaun alone at that hour? What do you study, if you study, or what do you do for work, if you work.

- Vander is extremely sociable, and since he handles negotiations, he doesn’t hold hostility toward upper-city residents, though it’s rare to see them in these parts.

- It’s not even about flirting; he just wants to keep chatting and make sure he won’t have you on his conscience. He asks you to wait until closing, checks in on the kids to make sure everything’s okay and says goodnight, then walks you to the bridge.

- The more regular your visits to Zaun become, the more the other regulars at the Last Drop start to recognize you and get used to you, making that place quite pleasant. And then there’s the deal with the bartender: if you offer him a good chat, he’ll treat you to a good pint of beer.

- The toughest part of getting close to Vander is learning that he’s a single father to four kids, and seeing the hostile and shocked reaction of the younger ones when they find out you’re not from their city.

- But hate is taught, and even if it takes some time, they slowly start to get used to you. Maybe they won’t jump into your arms, but if you decide to stay over, they’ll make room for you or bring you something to dry your face with, in strict silence.

Silco:

- This man, though he may not look like it, is the embodiment of patience.

- It’s his goons who bring you to his office, and the first time, all it takes is a quick glance for him to know you’re not a spy, a rival, a drug addict, or a threat.

- Silco kills, but generally not without reason. So, the first time you have a heart-pounding panic attack from being dragged there, you get off with a warning: if they catch you poking around his business again, it won’t go so well for you.

- But today, Janna’s on your side, and you’re safe.

- The issue is much simpler than it seems: if you live in the Undercity, you know which places to avoid and which gangs control which areas. But if you’re just a foolish Piltie who likes wandering outside your own city, the odds of ending up in one mess after another are high.

- That’s why, the second time they catch you near one of their shipments, his goons already have their weapons drawn.

- This time it’s not even Silco who spares you; instead, a firefight with the Firelights breaks out nearby, and you’re just lucky that bigger problems show up at the right moment.

- It happens repeatedly: either you run into his goons and instinctively wave like an idiot, or you end up in restricted areas, and one of them who’s taken a liking to you motions for you to leave, or you start frequenting the Last Drop and see them all more often.

- Gradually, this brings you more often—and with less dread—to the kingpin’s office, who, since even his daughter likes you, first makes sure to get you a map of the Lanes because “you’re obviously so clueless you must be from Piltover” to keep you from getting yourself killed.

- Then he realizes you’re pleasant enough to let you hang out in his office on weekends, when the noise downstairs is so loud that he couldn’t work anyway.

Jinx:

- You’re essentially the “dumb Piltie” stereotype that comes to mind when people in Zaun talk about those from the upper city.

- Deciding to venture into the alleys without any experience or knowledge of the area purely out of curiosity wasn’t your brightest idea, but at this point, it’s too late to turn back.

- That’s why, after hours spent looking for something interesting—colorful explosions that have been common recently near the docks, some chase scenes—you find nothing, give up, and throw yourself into a bar.

- If it were evening, you might hope for more than just a jukebox playing country music, four young guys playing pool in a corner, and a girl sitting at the bar who looks half-asleep while the bartender cleans glasses, but you still decide to sit down and order something local.

- Everyone’s eyes are on you, but the moment the girl with long blue braids lifts her head, the others snap back to what they were doing, and she looks at you, still drowsy and a bit confused.

- Meeting Jinx is the beginning of the end; she rambles on, is relaxed, and the moment she hears you wanted action, she jumps off her stool and drags you out before you can even sip your drink.

- She has no particular reason—it's just rare to find someone who wants to have fun, although you quickly realize that her idea of “fun” involves risking your neck.

- The first time ends like that; you don’t even exchange names. When it gets late, she vanishes, leaving you no choice but to return to the bar in the following weeks, where you meet her again and pick up on that fun “tour.”

- This “tour” brings you closer, even if you never talk about deeply personal things because there’s never time.

- It’s one night when you’re sitting together on a rooftop, watching the distant lights of Piltover, that she learns the hard truth: you’re from the other side of the river. This single piece of information seems to destroy everything you had built. Without a word, she runs off, and you don’t find her at the bar at the usual time anymore, but you don’t stop trying.

- The bartender probably tells her, or she sees you, who knows, because weeks later you meet again, and she almost looks sad to see you.

- She expected you to give up, not to keep coming back despite how difficult she’d made it, which is why when you pull her into a hug, she stiffens, taking a while to hug you back.

- The closer you get, the more she becomes like a ghost. You even find her at your place, but you never see her on the streets in Piltover. She rarely stays over, but you know it’s because of personal issues.

Vi:

- Vi isn’t for everyone: she’s for those with a “savior complex” or hotheads who can take a couple of punches to the face.

- The reason you’re in Zaun, dressed incognito, is because your colleagues told you there’s some interesting stuff in the underground city’s shops.

- What you didn’t expect was that the “interesting find” curled up behind an abandoned building would be a person.

- Nothing too serious, just a brawl gone wrong. She’d hidden to tend to her wounds in peace, probably in that vulnerable “cornered wolf showing its teeth” state.

- Cooperation isn’t her strong suit, and, not to rely on Undercity stereotypes, but you imagine it’s also rare for anyone to help strangers wounded on the street.

- She becomes more docile after you simply stand by, “covering her back”—basically just staying put and shielding her from view. 

- whenyou blurt out, “Forget gin; I need something stronger.” she starts to like you

- Once she recovers, she gestures for you to follow her, suddenly motivated by the urge to drink. Surprisingly, she takes you over the bridge to your own city, to a cozy pub that smells of wood.

- Drinking there becomes a habit; after a few drinks, you tell her you hate that the evening has to end, and she chuckles, flattered, before saying you can always do it again.

- And you do it again.

- You keep doing it until you end up kissing clumsily in the pub’s restroom, nearly knocking heads together, until she pins you to the wall and your brain signals a warning.

- You tell her you live nearby, suggesting you take things to your place, unknowingly revealing something you thought was obvious.

- She stares at you for a few confused seconds. “You didn’t tell me,” she says, but the truth is, Vi doesn’t hate upper-city people, so once the confusion passes, the alcohol and hormones work their magic, leaving that conversation as a problem for the next morning.

Sevika:

- Her only interactions with people from the upper city have been with Enforcers, but contrary to appearances, Sevika is a big, intimidating dog that’s actually quite tame.

- She doesn’t get her hands dirty unless necessary, so even though she has no fondness for Pilties, she’d never start a physical fight with one.

- You first see her in the Undercity, at the Last Drop, playing cards for a hefty sum of money against two shady types: one bald with a metal nose, and the other dressed like an out-of-place gentleman.

- It’s only when the game ends and she gets up to head to the bar that you clumsily manage to strike up a conversation, receiving nothing but a scrutinizing glance in return.

- She lets you buy her a drink despite the large sum she just pocketed, and when you compliment her on her play, she puffs up with pride and starts talking about how those two just cheated but still couldn’t win.

- For a moment—just a moment—she realizes she’s never seen you around here before, but then she goes back to talking and listening, fueled by the alcohol.

- Getting her out of your head becomes impossible, and if you catch her at the end of her shift, she’s even more relaxed. It doesn’t take many weeks before you find yourself with your knees over her shoulders in the Last Drop’s basement.

- Emotional or mental intimacy with Sevika comes at an incredibly slow pace, but she starts approaching you in the bar, and your “private encounters” become more and more frequent—until you try to make things more serious by inviting her up.

- Her reaction seems angry, but it’s more surprise; she hadn’t realized and didn’t expect it.

- She becomes a lot more guarded around you, until, in time, she learns to trust you again.

[homunculus-argument]

It just occurred to me that you could use comedy as a way of truly illustrating what a culture is all about. Ultimately, the things that people tend to find funny is whatever they've been raised to think of as inappropriate, so comedy is a way to show what the ideals of this people are - by presenting a mirror image of it. Something that the people fear to be or become, deep down.

A culture that is high-context, deeply conservative, traditional, and dead serious in all things would find it funny to see someone unwittingly fuck up so badly that their entire family line has been shamed for generations, and doesn't even seem to understand it. A fool insulting someone important right to their face is so inappropriate that it's funny - but the laughter isn't aimed at the insulted person, the audience laughs at the fool.

While a people who generally do not take themselves or life too seriously would laugh at the people who do. It's silly, laughable and embarrassing to make a huge deal about everything and get offended when other people don't take it as seriously. It's ridiculous for someone to sulk like a child over something like that.

Consider a culture of warrior nomads, who gather once per year for a celebration of their common roots, to trade goods and occasionally members, and meet friends and relatives from other clans. And as one of the features of the gathering, they perform plays. And one of the stock characters of their comedies is the simpering coward, who keeps making or finding trouble and then has his mother fight his fights for him.

And this role is traditionally played by the biggest, burliest man that the clan has, purely because someone who couldn't brawl his way out of problems he causes by having more mouth than muscle simply isn't funny, it's just sad. But a strong man who could be a warrior folding immediately when the beef he started actually finds him is shit-your-pants-laughing hilarious.

While anyone of any clan would be ashamed to have such a man for a son, spouse or friend, within a play such a spectacle is nothing but fun and games. And while the audience roars with laughter and even heckles, playing the role of the coward is not a shame, but as a matter of fact it is downright an honour. After all, it's a much harder man who volunteers to be a laughingstock, than someone who'll stab anyone at the drop of a hat for any hint of disrespect.

[asomaton]

“Wake”

I live alone. There should be no voices here. A dim person with long black hair dressed in gray nondescript clothing is standing by my bed. It raises a hand and says

“The pantheon is expanding. You have been measured and found fit. Comfort your flock Listen to the pleas from the new.”

“Who? What? I’ve got nothing here. What do you want?” I scramble for my glasses but when I turn around the person is gone. Squinting in the dim light I try to see where they went. Bolting from the bed I turn on the lights and scan the apartment. Nothing. My heart is hammering in my chest. Not a trace. Walking round the bed I step into something. Sand. Two footprints like small crescent moons on the floor. After going through everything in the apartment and finding nothing, all doors locked, no broken windows, I grab my phone and take a picture of the sand. Are they really footprints? Was it all a dream and I imagined the sand as footprints? A very vivid dream. These things happen right? I mean it happened to me. I still grab an old heavy shoehorn made of brass and tries to sleep. If they come back I sure will shoehorn them good. Sleep do not come that night.

Two weeks after the “visit” the tinnitus starts. It’s not like in the descriptions, more like a susurrant mumbling. I blame it on stress and the fact that I’ve been having trouble sleeping. Nothing too bad. This is the price for my younger years with warehouse parties and concerts I guess. The tinnitus gets worse though and the noise canceling headphones I get from office only helps with sound from outside the head. Sometimes it shrieks and wails. Damn annoying really. Perhaps I should seek help?

The turning point comes when a colleague who been sick for a long while comes to visit work. Not a close friend. Just some guy with a booming voice who used to claim he had a “zest for life”. Why was he working here then? He’s not booming now. He look pale, almost gray and the skin hangs from his cheeks.

“It’s an experimental treatment.” he says with a hollow voice. “They couldn’t find a donor so I’ve got a lab-grown liver.” He gives a coughing and rattling laugh. “Fancy that huh? I’m like a pioneer.” He looks seriously again. Stricken. “Problem is it doesn’t really want to stick, yeah? Not sure if I get another chance. Probably won’t come back. Just wanted to see you guys one last time.” He smiles twitchy and I hear it. The din in my ears rises up to a choir of a million voices, clear, shivering and full of fright. Something alive, squabbling and scrambling to find something they can relate to. A safe haven. Anything. And something responds in me. A take a step forward and gently place three fingers on the shirt covering my colleagues stomach and says steady and reassuring

“This is your home now. Find peace. “

And my colleague who I’m not really friends with and whose stomach I’ve just touched in a weird way look at me. Confused, but strangely serene. He just calmly turn around and goes back to the elevator. Before he leaves he turns his head to me and waves. I wave back and smile. He’s going to be alright. His liver is going to be alright. I’ve reassured the new life in his abdomen. The lab grown engineered life forms to which I’m set to guide and protect in its many myriad forms.

My first thought after the insight, strangely, is that I always wanted pets, and now I suddenly have billions, manufactured under microscopes all over the world.

You wake up suddenly to find an androgynous being by your bed, congratulating you on your ascension to godhood and vanishing without explaining your domain or power set. Now you have to figure out what kind of god you are, and why you're a god to begin with

[syluslnd]

Hi! I love your writing

Could i request Sylus finding out the reader is pregnant?

sylus finding out that you’re pregnant

You’d been keeping it to yourself for days, maybe longer than you should have. You wanted the timing to be perfect but every time you tried to bring it up, the words got caught in your throat. How would he react? He was always so guarded, so in control—it was hard to predict.

But today, as you sat at the kitchen table, trying to decide on the perfect way to tell him, Sylus’s voice cut through the silence.

“Care to explain this, sweetie?”

Your stomach twisted as you looked up and found him standing by the trash can, holding up the unmistakable pregnancy test with a raised eyebrow. His gaze was sharp but his expression…was softer than you expected. Almost vulnerable.

You shifted, biting your lip and managing a nervous smile. “Well…that’s exactly what it looks like.”

He took a slow breath, his fingers tightening around the test just slightly. “So, it’s true?” His voice was soft but with an undercurrent of tension. “You’re…you’re pregnant?”

You nodded, watching his face carefully, searching for his reaction. “I didn’t know how to tell you. I wanted it to be the right moment and I didn’t want to overwhelm you.”

He let out a quiet, breathless chuckle, shaking his head as he stepped closer. “Kitten, you seriously thought I wouldn’t want to know something like this?” His voice was low and he looked at you with an intensity that made your cheeks flush.

You shrugged, a little shy but holding his gaze. “You can be hard to read sometimes, Sylus. I didn’t know how you’d feel about…us having a kid. The world you’re in…everything…”

He nodded slowly, still processing, his gaze shifting to your stomach as if imagining what it would be like in the months to come. “Yeah, it scares me, not gonna lie.” His voice was rough, almost shaky, and it made your heart ache a little to see him so uncharacteristically unsure. “I’ve spent so much time focused on keeping myself safe, keeping you safe and now a kid? That’s…it’s a lot. But—”

He stopped, taking your hands in his, his grip a little tighter than usual. He let out a slow breath, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “But the thought of you being the mother of my child? That’s something I never thought I’d get, something I didn’t think I deserved.” His voice softened, his hand lifting to gently brush your cheek. “You’re gonna be the best damn mom.”

A laugh bubbled up from you, nervous and warm and you squeezed his hand, trying to ground both of you. “I’m glad you think so,cause I’m kind of nervous myself. But…if it’s with you, I know we’ll figure it out.”

His smirk widened, a touch of that familiar intensity back in his gaze. “Well, you better be ready, kitten. This kid’s gonna have a bit of a wild life with us as parents.” He paused, brushing his thumb over your knuckles as he looked at you with a rare, unguarded sincerity. “But we’ll make it work and I’ll be here every step of the way, protecting both of you, no matter what.”

You grinned, feeling your heart swell as you pulled him into a tight hug, feeling his arms wrap around you protectively. It was the start of something new, something neither of you were fully prepared for—but with Sylus by your side, you felt ready for anything.

[fxrmuladaydreams]

angel on his shoulder: happy birthday (op81)

mean!oscar x sweet!reader

summary: oscar struggles to find the perfect gift for your birthday

notes: again, he’s not really mean, but idk what to call him now

wc: 1533

prev. part

You had somehow managed to do it, to worm your way into Oscar’s life, to make yourself a permanent part of his day. What was once passing glances had now turned into soft smiles and quiet conversations. He looked forward to seeing you everyday, to talking with you.

He started saving a seat for you whenever he ate lunch, or sitting closer to Lando during meetings, so he could sit closer to you. He longed to be at the receiving end of your smiles and laughs, and mentally cheered when he was.

Of course spending more time with you meant spending more time with Lando as well. Oscar didn’t dislike Lando, not at all, but Lando could occasionally be… a bit much. Especially when he was wiggling his eyebrows at him for simply talking with you.

He was sitting in the training room at the MTC one day, getting ready to begin his workout when he feels an arm around his shoulders. He turns to see Lando smirking down at him.

“Hey.” He says.

“Hey yourself.” Lando replies. “What are you up to?”

Oscar furrows his eyebrows and looks around the gym. “What do you think?”

Lando rolls his eyes, but smiles as he walks towards a set of weights.

“Is, uh, is Y/n coming around?” Oscar tries to sound casual, but hearing Lando snort makes his face flush.

“To stay with me while I work out? I doubt she’d be interested in that.” He scoffs. “But I bet she’d be more interested if she knew you were here too.”

“What?” Oscar spurts. “Why would she?” He can feel his face burning up.

“No reason.” Lando says, teasingly. “Hey, what are you doing for next week?”

Oscar furrows his brows. “What’s going on next week?”

“Y/n’s birthday.” Lando answers. “You didn’t know?” He turns to look at Oscar.

Oscar tries to think back, wondering if you’ve mentioned your birthday.

“Well it’s next week. I’m throwing a party for her. You can come if you want.”

Oscar nods. “Yeah, yeah I’ll be there.”

Lando grins. “Good. She’ll be glad to hear that.”

Oscar tries to hide the blush he feels spreading on his cheeks.

“I’ve already got her gift picked out and wrapped. Not by me, of course. It’d look like I was handing her a wad of paper.”

“Gift?” Oscar asks. He feels panic beginning to rise in his chest.

“Yeah, gift. It’s a birthday.” Lando laughs. “You have to get her a gift.”

“Right.” Oscar murmurs. He stands up. “I think I’m done here, for the day.” With that he walks out of the training center, gym bag slung over his shoulder, his gaze locked on the ground as he leaves.

“Didn’t even see him do anything.” Lando mumbles to himself.

Oscar spends the rest of the day wracking his brain for something, anything to get you for your birthday. He could get you jewelry? But that seems too intimate. Money? Too casual.

He sits alone while he eats his lunch, staring off into space as he eats, trying to think of something.

“Hey, Os. You okay?” You ask softly placing your food down on the table next to him.

He snaps out of his thoughts, looking at you wide-eyed.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

You laugh. “I don’t know, you’ve got this weird look on your face.”

He shakes his head. “No I don’t.”

“Okay, fine.” You laugh.

Oscar sighs, looking back at his food, but out of the corner of his eye he sees a book on your lap.

“What’s that?” He asks.

“Oh,” you smile, lifting the book to put it on the table. “It’s the book I’m reading right now.”

Oscar looks at the cover.

“It’s actually like, the tenth time I’m reading it.” You say.

Oscar snorts. “Why?”

“It’s my favorite book.” You shrug. “It’s so good. If you haven’t read it, I highly recommend it.”

Oscar hums.

“No, seriously, it would be so nice to have someone to talk to about it.” You whine. “I tried to get Lando to read it, and do you know what he said? He said ‘I’ll wait for the movie’. Can you believe that?” You ask.

Oscar laughs. “That sounds about right.” He watches as you push the book to the side to eat your lunch. “Hey, I gotta go, but I’ll see you later.”

“Oh, okay, see you.”

Oscar tries not to let the way your shoulders slump affect him. He gathers his things, and leaves you sitting there, pulling out his phone as he walks away.

After work Oscar goes to several different shops, looking for that damned book. He’s just about to give up, when he finally finds one lone copy. He keeps it tucked close to his chest as he walks to the checkout counter, as if afraid someone’s going to try to pry it from his hands.

He spends any free time he has for the week with his nose in the book. He brings it with him to the MTC, he reads it before and after work, he feels like the book becomes a part of him.

He shows up to Lando’s apartment for your party, with his gift tucked under his arm. He’d spent about an hour on picking a shirt, then another on fixing his unruly hair.

He has to admit, he’s surprised when he walks into Lando’s apartment. It’s not the bright rave lights or loud music he’d picture Lando would pick out for a party for himself, instead it’s soft warm lighting with some soft music in the background.

“I see you’ve made it.” Lando says, when he sees Oscar. “And you’ve managed to find a gift.” He smirks. “What’d you get her?”

Oscar shakes his head. “It’s nothing.”

“Keeping it a surprise?”

Before Oscar can answer, he’s pulled into a soft hug. “Thanks for coming, Os.” He hears your voice next to his ear.

Oscar smiles, wrapping an arm around you. “Happy birthday.”

When you pull away Oscar allows himself a moment to admire you. You’re wearing a soft dress that compliments you well. He notices the small sparking stone on the necklace around your neck.

“Pretty necklace.” He says.

You lift a hand to touch the stone. “Thanks. Lando got it for me.”

Oscar feels an uncomfortable twist in his stomach. His eyes search for the brit, who has made himself scarce.

“I told him it was too much. He said it’s the least he can do for me, having to put up with him everyday.” You laugh.

Oscar gives you an unconvincing smile, awkwardly shifting the gift under his arm, the gift he’s starting to feel immensely insecure about.

“Do you want to go sit somewhere?” You ask him. “Lando invited all of these people, but I don’t think I know half of them.” You laugh.

Oscar nods, following you as you lead him to the balcony.

You each take a seat, looking out at the sun setting over Monaco. He can’t help but admire you. The sun makes you practically glow, your eyes quite literally sparkle.

“Thanks for coming, really.” You break the silence. “I appreciate what Lando’s done, but I can’t help but feel a bit… out of place.”

Oscar hums. He holds out his gift to you, figuring it’d be better to deal with the embarrassment of you thinking it’s lame out here alone, rather than inside surrounded by people.

He watches as you tear open the gift, a confused look spreading across your face as you see what it is.

“It’s my book…” You say, holding the same book you showed him at the beginning of the week, though this copy is clearly newer. “Thanks Oscar.” You say, trying to hide your disappointment.

“Open it.”

You look at him confused again. “I swear if you cut a hole in my favorite book-“

“Just open it.” He cuts you off with a smile.

You slowly open it, flipping through the first few pages, the title page, the acknowledgment, the table of contents, until you get to the first actual page of the book.

Inside, surrounding the text in the book are little notes and doodles, scrawled in messy handwriting. You flip through the pages to see them everywhere.

“You annotated it?” You ask softly.

Oscar nods. “I read it this week. I figured it would be nice for you to have someone to talk to about it.” He says. He takes a deep breath. “Look, I know it’s not great-“

“I love it.” You cut him off.

“You do?”

You nod. You had copies upon copies of this book, paperbacks, hardcovers, special editions, sprayed edges, but none of them compared to the one in your hands. The one Oscar took the time to read, then write out all of his own thoughts for you. It felt like you were holding a piece of him in your arms.

“Yeah, I love it. Thank you.” You murmur, pulling him into a hug.

Oscar feels like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders as he wraps his arms around you. He smiles to himself, feeling like he’s successfully planted himself in your heart now.

[mj0702]

Whatever she needs 🔞

smut ahead ... minors do not read!!!

“Hola mi Amores” Jennis voice sounded a little darker through the screen of the tablet that was set up against the bedside lamp in the bedroom

“Hola Hermoso” Alexia smirked you cuddled into her side her arm holding you safely your face on her chest your eyes half closed

“Why so hostile Putellas?” your girlfriend asked mirroring Alexias smirk

“Pulling your shorts up so everyone sees your thighs...” your blonde girlfriend grumbled light hearted

“My girlfriends are far away... I thought I give them something to look at” Jenni shot back just as teasingly

“Hm... all them fans thirsting over your legs..” the blonde hummed pulling you more into her side

“Don't worry Ale... they can thirst all they like... it's your head that these thighs are wrapped around” the dark haired chuckled

“You better remember that the next time you flirt with these fans after a game... the internet sees everything Hermoso” Alexia grumbled adjusting her hold on you once again while you followed the interaction between your girlfriends half awake

“I'm yours and you know that” Jenni smiled softly before she redirected her attention to you “Why so quiet Cari? Not often you don't say anything”

“Hm...” you hummed into Alexias chest avoiding your eyes even more

“Cari?” your dark haired girlfriend now got a little concerned sitting up in her bed her eyes fixed on your delicate frame

Since you didn't really reacted Jenni raised her eyebrow studying your face as good as she could

“Ale?” the Madrista asked the blonde fishing for answers

“Our Cariño is a little sad today...” the blonde hummed calmly before she pressed a soft kiss to your hairline

“Sad... why are you sad Cari? Did one of these soulless Barcelonans said something to you?” Jenni now looked directly at you getting a little snort out of you before you pressed your nose further into Alexias collarbone hiding your face a little

“¿disculpe? Soulless barcalonean?? Who are you talking about?” Alexia exclaimed

“Batlle... Guijarro.... worst one... Coll” the dark haired one waved off “... but seriously Cari... what is bothering you?”

“When are you coming home?” you mumbled into the blondes chest hoping Jenni didn't understood what you said since you already felt stupid

“Oh mi Cariño... mi amor... mi vida” Jenni sighed her voice soft “... two weeks... I have three more games and the second the final whistle blows I'm on my way to the airport... promesa”

“No... you won the League.. you have to celebrate” you mumbled knowing when Jenni starts celebrating it can go on for days

“I don't care about the League....” your girlfriend kept her voice soft feeling how hard the separation is on you

“But you should celebrate” you said again this time with more insistence

“Oh I will Cari... don't worry... I will celebrate...” Jenni grinned wolfish

“Funny you'd say that...” now Alexia piped up

“You already planning something?” the dark haired perked up immediately

“Hm.....” the blonde teased “... not really... but our Cari had a question earlier and I said we – you and I – will provide her with an answer together”

“Oh?” Jenni looked at you confused but curious

“Hm... go on Cari...” Alexia nudged you slightly “... you asked me so you can ask Jenni as well”

“Nuh – uh” you shake your head slightly before hiding further in the crook of Alexias neck

“Cariño...” Jenni now prodded a little bit

“It's embarrassing” you mumbled

“It's not....” the blonde who held you rolled her eyes for good measure

“You know you can ask me everything Cariño...” the dark haired one said gently knowing sometimes you needed the extra caring other times you needed a more... dominant approach

“Ale...” you whined hoping your girlfriend would help you out

“Oh no... you wanted to know... you are going to ask Jenni” the blonde snorted

“But...” you kept whining

“Cari...” Jenni now chose the other approach her voice much more dominant which made you shrunk even deeper against Alexia

“No” you mumbled against the blondes neck

“Cariño... if you want an answer you have to ask the question first” the dark haired spaniard raised her eyebrow at you and you knew you were walking a delicate line

“Howdoesanalfeel?” you mumbled shutting your eyes embarrassed

“¿disculpe?” Jenni asked confused

“She wants to know what it feels like to have anal sex” Alexia blurted out getting tired of your actions

“How should I know?” the dark haired asked looking at Alexia confused while you groaned quietly “You can answer that... I'm not the one on my hands and kn....”

“Jennifer” the blonde snapped making you smile against her skin “... she asked for different reason you Idiota”

“Huh?” Jenni tilted her head before she realized what was happening “... oh... OH... I mean... yes”

“Finally” Alexia rolled her eyes before she started to smirk “... since I'm here and you are not... you can either watch or we could make a nice little clip of it...”

“I swear Alexia...” the dark haired growled “... if you dare to touch our Cariño without my permission you know you'll regret it....”

“You really want to punish her because YOU are in Mexico??” the blonde teased letting her fingertips stroke slowly over your rips

“She's a good girl... she'll wait... you on the other hand” Jenni warned her blonde girlfriend

“What if we wait with the new stuff until you're here but she's been so good and...” Alexia said softly hearing your little needy whine

“I'll know Putellas... if you touch her ass I'll know... and I will make you suffer for it..” the lanky woman growled but saw how much you enjoyed Alexias simple touch

“Yeah yeah....” the blonde rolled her eyes but looked at her girlfriend questioning

“Go on... it's been a while since I saw both of you come” Jenni flicked her hand in a “go on”-motion

“Wha do you want to see?” Alexia looked at her girlfriend gently prying you a little away from her neck

“Whatever she needs” the lanky spaniard said seriously while she watched how Alexia gently pushed you on your back

“You hear that Cariño?” the blonde started to press soft open mouthed kisses against you neck “Jenni is very nice to you... you'll be good for her sí?”

“Mhm...” you sighed closing your eyes enjoying the gentle touches your girlfriend provided

“Then be good and look at her... let her see” Alexia whispered in your ear her voice darker than usual

“Jenni” you whined as you opened your eyes again turning your head which resulted in two things

First – you saw how comfortable Jenni got against her headboard a slight smirk on her lips as she watched how Alexia pushed your shirt up and your pants down

Second – with you turning your head you showed your neck to Alexia who growled lowly before she licked her lips her eyes fixed on the soft skin

“Sssshhh Cari... Alexia will take care of you” your dark haired girlfriend shushed you gently smirking a little bit “Won't you Ale?”

“Sí... whatever you need Cariño” Alexia murmured still transfixed on your neck

“Need you” you whined needy trying to look at the blonde who immediately grabbed your chin turning your head back to look at Jenni

“Look at her.. not me” the blonde growled making you whimper

“She's not mad Cari... she's just in love with your neck... we know that already.. marking you every chance she gets – even after games” Jenni chuckled watching the interaction amused “Go on Ale... mark her as long as you can because you know when I'm coming home there won't be any of it”

That was the confirmation Alexia needed quickly leaning down biting into your neck harshly to point where you thought she drew blood. You whimpered closing your eyes after a few seconds of pain trying to get the blonde to ease up a little bit just to be met with a warning growl. Jenni on the other hand chuckled loudly seeing how easily she still can dictate the situation even from nearly 6.000 miles away.

“Ale” you said your voice low but Jenni could hear the pain

“Alexia” the dark haired one immediately jumped in with a warning knowing sometimes her counterpart could get lost in the sensation

“Hm?” the blonde looked up with a mix of annoyance and confusion

“Slowly” Jenni said seriously nodding toward you

“Lo siento Bebé” Alexia looked down at you apologetic bending down pressing a soft kiss to her mark

“Stop wasting time Alexia” the lanky spaniard warned

“You said slowly” the blonde shot back her attention quickly divided from you to her back to you

“Slowly yes... time wasting no...” Jenni bit out

“Hm...” Alexia hummed now starting to pull your shirt over your head leaving your chest bare the cool air in your bedroom letting your nipple harden immediately

“Finally” your made out Jennis voice through the screen making you open your eyes again seeing how she got even more comfortable

Alexia didn't let you dwell on the sight too much pressing a soft kiss in the valley in between your breasts before she kissed her way over to your perky nipple starting to gently suck on it her tongue applying little pressure to the nub making you moan quietly. Both of them knew even if you mostly let them use you however they please sometimes you just needed the gentle soft intimacy. Even more so when your mind was overwhelmed and you missed Jenni who always was a big support in your life. You came into their relationship when you basically were at your lowest both of them being big parts of your healing and getting back to yourself. Which made it even harder when Jenni took the offer from Mexico. Yes it provided you with another destination for when you needed to get away from the busy schedule Barcelona and the Nationalteam put on your shoulders but it still hurt every time you have to say goodbye to Jenni at the Airport. And every time a little more. Alexia was great yes she looked after you when she noticed you spiralling making sure you eat and rest enough. But Jenni made the House homey – filled it with laughter warmth and homemade lemonade.

“Cari....” Alexia pulled you back into reality with a soft voice “... are you with me?”

“Hm.. yeah sure” you mumbled

“You want this sí?” the blonde checked sitting back on her heels

“I... just” you said getting a little uneasy

“Ssssshhhh Bebita...” Alexias big hands now stroked over your stomach trying to ground you as she quickly glanced at the screen seeing that Jenni sat up more forward her face showing concern

“Jenni” you whined again as you grabbed one of Alexias hand intertwining your fingers

“I know Cari... I know...” Jenni said softly “... I miss both of you too... but Ales there to help you out a little bit okay... let her take care of you”

You couldn't really word your feeling so you went back to whining making Jenni smile with a little pity

“Ale.... clear her mind of all them haunting thoughts” the black haired spaniard nodded towards you making Alexia grin devilish

“My way then....” the blonde smirks pulling your pants down the rest of the way not letting go of your hand “... keep looking at Jenni Cari... be good for me and her and keep your eyes on Jenni”

“Ale...” you whimpered but you knew not to disobey her

“The only sounds I want this mouth to leave in near future are moans...” Alexia said strictly her free hand working getting your boy shorts out of the way

The second she achieved her goal her hand cupped your pussy the heel of her hand applying pressure to your clit making you moan out arching your back a little bit tightening your hold on her hand that held yours

“Exactly like this” the blonde praised you smiling “.... she's basically dripping Jenni... tell me Cari... is it for me or for Jenni?”

“You” you moaned out knowing it would only play into your favour feeding Alexias ego a little bit

“Hm... good answer Bebé” Alexia hummed replacing her hand by sliding her knee in between your thighs now her thigh pressing against your cunt

“She's just saying that because I'm not there” Jenni snorted but she slowly leaned back against her headboard

“You can't feel how wet she is Jenni” the blonde murmured against your skin as she kissed her way back up to your breasts “... only for me”

“Keep telling yourself that...” the lanky one snorted again “... you know she needs to be told what to do”

“What do you want Cari....” Alexia kissed your collarbone

“Wanna come” you moaned as you grinded down on Alexias thigh making her smirk against your skin

“You will Cariño.... I promise...” the blonde whispered “... but you know Jenni decides that...”

“Jenni please” you whimpered looking at her with puppy eyes

“No holding back Cari...” Jennis eye found yours and you could see how dark they got “... let Alexia make you feel good”

The second the dark haired was done talking Alexia captured your mouth in a hot passionate kiss pressing her thigh harder against your core making you moan into the kiss. Jenni hummed appreciative loving to watch the two of you. She knew Alexia was more than capable to take care of your needs what didn't stop her to give in her two cents once in a while

“Stop teasing” your dark haired girlfriend scolded Alexia lightly

She watched how Alexias free hand started to wander first stop was your breasts where she massaged the soft flesh her thumb flicking over the hard nipple making you whine into her mouth. The blonde pulled away from the kiss to get her attention back to your neck – Jenni always joked that if Alexia wouldn't be a professional footballer she'd be a vampire. At the moment you didn't care since you started to feel Alexia everywhere. Her large hand on your breast, her hot breath on your neck, her muscular thigh against your core, her other hand still holding your own. The blonde noticed the slight change in your body quickly glancing at Jenni smirking victorious causing the older one to playfully roll her eyes.

“Come on Cari...” Alexia murmurs against your skin “... I know you want to”

She pressed her knee more into the mattress intensify the pressure on your clit with her thigh making you moan out a whimper. Alexia rocked against your core once more to give you a little push to finally start getting yourself off on her leg. The blonde hummed pleased when she felt you rock carefully against her so you took it as a sign that that's what she wanted you to do. So you continued to rock against her upper leg getting into a rhythm while Alexia nuzzled against your neck letting you use her strong thigh to your liking.

“That's it Bebé...” you made out Jennis voice faintly to caught up in your action “... I knew you could be good for Ale and I”

That simple praise got a moan out of you your movement faltering for a second until Alexia got your attention back on track by slightly twisting your hard nipple. You immediately rocked back against her your breath coming out in panted breath while the blonde on top of you just did the bare minimum letting you take what you needed. She knew you would word it if you needed her to do more or even take over. Right now just the intimacy of the situation was enough for you as you feel the familiar and not unwelcomed warm feeling slowly starting to build. Your rhythm increased while you started to hold Alexias hand even more tightly silently telling her you were close and she started to press soft encouraging kisses against your neck

“Are you close Cari?” Alexia mumbled into your skin you confirming it by whining and nodding your head

“Come Cariño” you heard Jennis demanding voice and you did just that with Alexia pressing her leg firmer against your core making you arch of the bed moaning loudly

“Joder... I'll never get tired of that image” Jenni huffed as you sank back into the mattress and you could hear your blonde girlfriend whispering soft praises in your ear her body now complete covering your own

Jenni would never admit it out loud but being separated from you two was so hard for her. Not just because of the absolutely amazing out-of-this-world sex but also the simple daily things like going for groceries or just laying on the couch having a movie playing in the background with you complaining that you didn't understood a word because it was in spanish and you didn't speak it. Truth was you understood it quiet well and Alexia caught you more than once speaking spanish with Marta or Ona. So both of your girlfriends knew you just liked to complain about something and they just played into it changing the movie to english most of the times so you'll settle down in between them. So yes – seeing Alexia making you come when she was so far away not able to touch you was even more hard.

“You feeling better Cari?” Alexia asked you gently already knowing the answer before you could even shake your head

“Words Bebé” your dark haired girlfriend said seriously

“No” you panted out and the goddess on top of you smirked knowingly

“No?” Alexia smirked teasingly “What do you need Cari?”

“Need more” you breathed out trying to get a reaction out of your girlfriend by pressing your nose into the soft skin at the crook of her neck

“More? Are you sure you realize what you asking for Cariño?” the blonde raised her eyebrow at you but you just nodded

“She wants more Jenni....” Alexia looked straight at the other woman “... what do you say?”

“Whatever she needs Ale...” the older one shrugged her shoulders “... she asked for it – take what's yours”

“Hm... what to do with you Cari?” the blonde mused loudly “... should I just use my fingers? Or my tongue? Or should I get the strap?”

The images that flooded your mind made you moan instantly getting a chuckle out of your blonde girlfriend

“All of it? Sounds like you're in for quite an entertaining night Hermoso” Alexia chuckled darkly

“Then get going....” Jenni rolled her eyes knowing Alexia teased her on purpose “... you don't get any younger either”

That comment made the blonde bark out a laugh childishly sticking her tongue out towards the dark haired one before redirecting her attention back on you

“Lets show her who the better stamina has Cariño” Alexia smirked her hand already on the path downwards with the destination in between your legs

Alexia normally wasn't one for slow rather on the rough side of intimacy but she saw you were balancing on the edge of overwhelming so she held herself back gently working one of her long digits into your pussy. The moment you felt her finger entering you you moaned deeply letting her work her finger in and out of you until she felt you loosening up a little carefully pushing a second finger in. You gasped at the stretch no stranger to Alexias long fingers but after still being a little sensitive from your first orgasm it was a tight fit – literally. The blonde didn't see the point to even let you get used to her continuing to fuck you slow and deep. She hit all the right spots inside you making you moan and groan and when she hit that one spot you actually squeaked a little bit. Hearing your high squeak Alexia faltered for a moment before smirking

“That spot Bebita?” the blonde teased pressing her fingertips into the same soft spot again getting the same reaction out of you

She knew if she would continue like this she'd have you come in mere minutes but she wasn't in the mood for a quick orgasm. You already had one so this time she'll make you wait. The blonde started to fuck you harder and a little faster occasionally hitting that spot that made you melt but every time she felt you tighten around her fingers she went back to slow down and not so deep. You were on the verge of tears after the fourth time Alexia slowed down again your breath laboured when you started to beg

“Please Ale...” you begged desperately “... por favor Alexia”

“Qué necesitas Cari” the blonde teased you only her fingertips just at the entrance to your wet core

“Please Alexia... I can't...” you moaned out as she teased the inside of your lips “... I can't anymore... please”

“I know you can Cari...” Alexia smirked loving the way you were giving yourself to her

“No puc” you nearly slurred your words desperately

“Catalan... that's new... I really like it...” the blonde pressed a soft kiss to your lips “.... no t'atreveixes a venir sense el meu permís”

“Alexia... this is about her” Jenni now interrupted seeing how you came close to your breaking point “... not about you”

“I'm doing this for her” Alexia growled at Jenni “... I know she can hold out a little longer Jenni... I can FEEL it”

Jenni stared at Alexia for a second then nodded her permission for the blonde to continue

“You hold out until I allow you to come Cariño...” the blonde now growled into your ear “... if not you'll feel very sorry once Jenni comes home – I'll make sure of it”

With that she went back to push her fingers deep into your pussy making you moan loudly. Alexia kept her slow but deep thrusts half her hand covered in your juices by now but she knew she can make you come hard enough so you'd be exhausted enough to fall into a peaceful slumber afterwards without her pulling out all the stops which normally resulted in you not being able to properly walk the next day and you still had training to attend. When she felt you tighten around her fingers again she smirked knowing this time you would come with or without her permission and since this really was about you she made it easier on your mind

“She's so tight Jenni...” the blonde looked straight at your other girlfriend who still sat comfortable against the headboard in her own bedroom watching the two of you “... even if I tried I wouldn't be able to fuck her the way I wanted... she's too tight for hard and fast”

“Yeah? Talk to me Ale...” the dark haired spaniard played into the little game Alexia started

“Barely fit two fingers...” Alexia grunted using her upper legs to hold your legs open when you tried to close them trying to trap the blondes hand “... you see how she tries to trap my Hand... you know what that means”

“Let her come Ale... she's been good for you” Jenni smiled seeing how you tried to wriggle away from Alexias frame simply to get a break

“In a minute” the blonde said just moving with you so you wouldn't have the chance to withdraw from her “... no Cari... don't try to get away... you know you want... you know I ALWAYS get what I want out of you”

You felt Alexia pull you against her and pulled you up so you were sitting on her thighs her two fingers still buried deep inside you. She freed her hand from your iron like grip to get her arm around your back holding you up guiding you to ride her fingers. With the new angle it was even harder for you to hold back your orgasm and Alexia didn't help you by sucking a nipple into her mouth using her teeth to bite down carefully

“Ale...” you tried to push her a little away from you but as usual it was no use

“Come Cari...” the catalan growled against your breast as she pulled you down and pushed her fingers up roughly

You didn't really remember anything after her demand. Both women knew how to play your body like an instrument but this time Alexia provided you exactly with what you needed. You didn't remember screaming out her name. The way your body arched against hers. The strong grip that the blonde held you against her. How you slumped against her. When she oh so carefully withdraw her fingers from your dripping cunt. Next thing you remembered was how she gently laid you back down on the bed whispering sweet nothings trying to help you calm that ragged breathing of yours. You whined as she gently let go of you and left the bed for Jenni jumping in telling you how good you did praising you for letting Alexia take care of you. You whined even louder when you realized that the typical warmth of her body and the smell of her skin was missing.

“I know Cari...” Jenni said softly “... just two more weeks... and then you'll get everything you ask for... I promise mi amor”

Alexia came back with a towel starting to clean you up as much as she thought you needed. She didn't see the point in dragging you into the shower now as you both have to shower in the morning anyway. The blonde disposed the towel carelessly on the floor crawling back into bed pulling you against her your face immediately finding the crook of her neck. You felt so light and carefree that you relaxed against your girlfriend the second both of you got comfortable

“She already out?” the Madrista chuckled seeing how your breathing evening out slowly

“Not quite... but nearly” Alexia whispered pressing a soft kiss to your forehead “... she really misses you Jenni... we both do”

“I miss you too...” Jenni sighed “... two more years okay... I found my love for football again and I'm not ready to retire right now...”

“I understand all your reasoning Jenni... I do... WE do...” the blonde said seriously “... but maybe... something closer to us... closer to home...”

“I would die in the english weather...” the older one tried to lighten the mood “... France... been there done that...”

“They say Germany suppose to be beautiful in summer” Alexia teased back “... or Italy... Norway maybe?”

“Sweden... or Denmark...” Jenni thought out loud

“Jenni... lets be serious for a second... what about home?” the blonde turned serious again

“I can't come play in Spain Ale.. you know why? You would personally kill me if I go and play for Madrid... Barcelona made clear they don't want me back... and where else should I go? Levante? Eibar?” the dark haired one turned serious as well

“Well with you... maybe Madrid would get a goal at El Classico for once... Misa is there” Alexia said running out of ideas while you started to snore softly against her skin

“How does y/n always says... it's not Misas fault – everyone makes mistakes... what do you think she'll do when I start playing in white?” Jenni snorted

“We need you closer to us Jenni... it's killing her... it's killing me...” the blonde said her voice breaking a little

“I promise I'll look for a solution” the older one said softly “I promise Alexia”

“Okay...” the catalan nodded

“November transfers are soon... so maybe there's a chance there...” Jenni smiled encouraging “... how are you feeling... need me to talk you through it?”

“No... I can wait...” Alexia smiled knowing exactly what her girlfriend was talking about “... also our Cari would get so mad if she doesn't get to watch or help....”

“You seriously denying me giving you an orgasm because the smallest one would get mad” the dark haired one lifted her eyebrow in disbelieve

“YOU don't have to deal with her in the morning... she's grumpy anyway – if she notice we had fun without her she'll break someones legs...” the blonde said adjusting her hold on you feeling a little bit of drool on her collarbone “... and most likely mine”

Jenni barked out a laugh before saying goodnight to Alexia promising her to call the next day after she had a talk with her agent about potential clubs

“Té amo mi reina” Jenni smiled softly

“You know I hate it when you call me that” Alexia smiled even tho she could feel the tears in her eyes

“Why do you think I keep calling you that” the older one winked “.... Té amo Ale”

“Jo també T’estimo” the blonde whispered back “ho fem”

[wizardsnorlax]

Seriously though, and don't even get me started on the attempts at "paranormal romance" that are literally just some guy with sharp teeth, like WHERE IS THE THRILL?

[peachsayshi]

// brutally soft // II. 

baby daddy!sukuna x reader 

tags: non curse au; fluff; tension; reader and sukuna are co-parents; girl dad sukuna; mentions troubled past with sukuna; alludes to significant size different; sukuna being extremely soft | wc: x | read this for more context & this

note: you and sukuna attend your daughter's winter performance at school

dni if your blog is blank / ageless / or are a minor

your lips part, eyes widening as the crisp air stings the tip of your nose.

you take sukuna in - his tall body leaning against the pillar of the kindergarten in an outfit that's far too sharp than anything you've ever seen him in.

an overcoat, pressed matching colored slacks, a leather belt with a shiny silver buckle, polished loafers and a dark charcoal turtleneck hugging all the muscle he carries. the all black attire highlights his fiery hair and silver piercings glittering underneath the warm light. he has one hand in his pocket, the other flicking through his phone screen.

your heart hammers. the space between your leg pulses.

he looks so good.

you step forward, the heel of your boot climbing up the concrete stairs. he looks up when he hears you approaching, and stands upright to greet you with a warm smile. "hey," he states calmly, berry tinted irises tracking down your body to subtly check you out.

"hi," you reply, but it comes out as a breathy whisper. sukuna rarely ever dressed up like this. he was a t-shirt and jeans kind of guy. he owned one denim and one leather jacket. he loved worn band tees, gym attire and cut out shirts. he hated spending money on clothes because he found it "frivolous" and instead would blow it on his motorbike, booze, and weed. he rented a suit once and complained the entire time. but this...

"you look," you stammered, unable to ignore the slight spark that ignited between the space where you both stood. "you look really good, ryo..."

he runs his hand over his freshly trimmed undercut, the scent of oak moss and wood wafting across your nose and making you picture an evergreen forest.

"thanks," he murmurs with a slight pout, his face falling into an honest expression of uncertainty. "I thought I overdid it a little..." "not at all, you look…fantastic…” you answer with a shake of your head and a firm word of reassurance. "this shit cost me an arm and a leg, but I had nothing else to wear tonight..." he huffed, before relaxing his stance. "glad it paid off at least" you furrow your brows softly, "you bought all this for her play?" a hint of pink kisses sukuna's cheeks and he averts his eyes shyly. "yeah, the brat keeps complaining about my scary clothes and shit..." your heart melts over the gesture.

when you think about how much sukuna cares for your daughter, how much he wants to prove to her and everyone else around him that he does, in fact, take his role as a father seriously, it makes you immensely proud of him.

you've seen the growth in the man.

the sukuna you knew five years ago and the man standing before you now were two completely different people.

and that fact messes with your head.

you swore to yourself that you would never take him back.

that you would never give him a second chance.

"anyway, shall we head inside? the show is about to start in fifteen minutes..." he interjects, cutting your thoughts abruptly before you even have a chance to tell him anything else.

you nod your head, and he casually places his palm against the small of your back to lead you inside.

the parents were cramped in the auditorium, the steel fold out chairs were uncomfortably cold but even more so for your former ex lover who was struggling to find a position for his large physique. after watching him suffer for a few minutes, you finally offered him your own seat on the aisle to give his legs a bit of breathing room.

"fucking hell, all this money we spend and they can't get some decent chairs in..." he complains and you chuckle as you bump his shoulder into his.

the performance was all about celebrating the seasons of the year and each class from the kindergarten were set to perform a specific season. the first batch of kids started with the spring season, where the kids sang and danced in little floral costumes as they taught the audience in question all about how spring brings abundance and the start of something new. the next scene moved into summer, where the performance transitioned to upbeat tempos as the kids celebrated the warmth that the season brings. the third scene transitoned to fall, where the colors of the set morphed into earth tones as the kids sang about the celebration of the harvest.

and finally it was the last scene to honor the beauty of the ice, cold winter. the scene where your daughter was performing. you nudge sukuna when you notice him dozing off, and he instantly perks upright to catch the part that he's been waiting for all night.

his face lights up when his daughter scampers onto the stage, dressed as a sparkling little snowflake. you both can see her eyes scanning the crowd, and her face brightens when she finds the two of you.

sukuna leans in to whisper in your ear, "she wanted to wear that from when she woke up this morning..."

"and did you let her?" you prod, teasing him over his softness towards her and knowing full well that she could have easily gotten her way with him.

"hell no. I wasn't going to deal with the mess of all that glitter," he answers back, your voices getting lower as the audience hushes.

the performance starts - your daughter is twirling and moving with confidence. she sings along with the choir and whenever you glance towards sukuna, you find him beaming with pride the entire time.

and then there was her big moment, her solo.

the one she has been going on and on about for weeks.

the spotlight shines on her as she takes center stage, her small hands squeezing into two tight balls as she shifts her weight from one foot to the next.

she's nervous, you can see it and it makes you itch with anticipation. you can't help but tug at sukuna's sleeve subconsciously, but the man responds by naturally taking your hand in his own.

your daughter swallows the lump in her throat, a hint of fear veiling her eyes as she glances to the side of the stage then back to the audience.

her eyes fall to you and sukuna once again, and the man simply meets her focus as he playfully waves his fingers in her direction.

her small hand relaxes, and she gives him a secret wave in return before easing her stance.

your eyes sting with tears at the interaction before she starts to sing.

you're holding your breath the entire time, pride sitting at your throat as you let go of sukuna to pull out your camera to record the entire thing. her confidence unfurls as she carries on her performance, making you think of all the afternoons and evenings she has spent performing her solo in front of you and probably sukuna while at home. by the end she takes a dramatic bow before returning to the rest of her cast.

you pause the video and turn to the man by your side who is applauding louder than everyone else in the room.

he looks at you with nothing but fulfillment.

"that's our girl," he says with a wolfish grin and cheeky wink, only triggering happy tears to fall.

sukuna drapes his arm around you, and you sling your own around his bicep in return, the other wiping away at your cheek. "yeah," you answer with a sniffle, "yeah it is"

for a moment your eyes lock, the two of forgetting your surroundings as the final song ensues.

“thank you for bringing her into my world,” sukuna murmurs, his lips merely inches from yours. but you don’t even pick up on the depth of what his gratitude even means.

you dab away at the dampness on your face. “that girl is your world, ryo” you tease but pause when you notice his face soften as he dips his gaze to your bottom lip.

“you both are.” he clarifies earnestly, but you are too stunned to speak.

he leans forward, and replicates what happened on the sofa just a few months ago by placing a small but innocent kiss on the corner of your lip.

“you both are.”

[smarteoasis]

❀ new things - nishimura riki

warnings : pussy eating, cussing, inexperienced riki, over stimulation

wc : 914

“i've never eaten out a girl before.” as those words leave your best friends mouth, you stiffle a laugh. “seriously? how's that possible?” you don't believe him, since he's had many girlfriends before.

“im serious! don't laugh at me..” he pouts, glaring at you from embarrassment. “well, why are you telling me?” you rub your eyes in disbelief, questioning him.

“uh.. i was kinda hoping you could teach me.” now this time you don't hold in that laugh. slapping your hand over your mouth, you sit up straight as you notice the pouty look on his face. “wait, actually? you want me to teach you how to eat pussy?”

he nods, mumbling “yea.. was hoping i could try it on you or somethinh..”

your eyes widen, each word making you more shocked, confused and wet. even though it sounds crazy weird, you shrug, sighing. “okay, fine. whatever. i can teach you.” he looks up eyes wide and cheeks red.

“really..? thank you. i just.. don't wanna embarrass myself if i ever have to eat a girl out.. ya know.” you nod, running a hand through your hair. “got it. go wash your hands first though.”

he obeys, running to your bathroom as you take your shorts and panties off on the bed.

when he comes back, his eyes widen as he sees you laying down, legs spread and cunt dripping.

you roll your eyes, “just get over here. ” he stutters, crossing his arms. “i,. didn't think we'd get into this so quickly.”

you shush him, motioning him to get between your legs. riki nods, laying on his stomach and taking ahold of your soft thighs, eyes glued to your pussy.

“do i start.. with the clit? or.. or the hole?” he looks up, his cheeks tinted pink. “doesn't matter. just, use your tongue on both, switch it up.” he nods, taking his wet tongue out and slowly nudging your clit with it. you take a deep breath, the stimulation already good.

he gives kitty licks to the nub before wrapping his lips around it, sucking softly. you gasp, gripping his hair. “like that.. good.” he nods, happy with his progress as he sucks on the clit more harshly.

you cuss under your breath, moaning quietly. “down there too..” riki quickly moves his tongue down to your sopping wet hole, licking it. “like that.. put your tongue in.” he obliges, sticking his tongue inside hesitantly as he rubs your clit with his thumb.

the double stimulation makes your toes curl, wrapping your thighs around his head and squeezing him in place. “s-so good..”

riki hums, the vibration going straight to your core. he sucks on your clit, prodding his midle finger at your gushing hole. you moan his name, already feeling an orgasm coming, the whole situation turning you on. riki looks up at you, wanting you to feel good and wanting to learn.

he pulls away from your clit for a second, chin glistening with your juices. “am.. am i doing okay?” you nod, tugging his head back down to continue.

riki doesn't complain, sucking on your clit and softly sticking a finger into your hole. he moans against you, your warm walls engulfing his long finger. he pumps it in and out slowly, curling it at the spongy spot that he heard feels good.

“shit.. im so close, don't stop.” riki nods, adding a second finger inside as his tongue continues working on your puffy clit.

he curls his fingers, forcing them deep inside to feel all your good spots. unexpectedly, he sticks his tongue inside with his fingers, making you cum quickly.

“cumming!” you announce, your thighs squeezing around his head as he doesn't stop, riding out your orgasm. after a couple of seconds of you panting, you look down at him.

“mm.. enough now.” he doesn't pull away, lapping away at your cunt as his fingers slam inside you. you yelp at the over stimulation, squirming on the bed.

riki is too pussy drunk to care, slurping your cum away like he hasn't had a meal in a good while. he pulls his fingers out, pinching your clit and receiving a squeal from you.

he digs his tongue deeper into your cunt, eating you out like a starved man. you notice how his hips rut against the mattress, a bulge forming in his tight boxers, hidden away in his grey sweats.

you feel another orgasm coming, groaning in pleasure and pain. “fuck.. im gonna cum again.” he hums happily, looking up at you and making eye contact as he sucks on your clit.

the visual makes you squirt on his tongue, your cum dripping down his nose, lips and chin. you moan loudly, shaking more than before.

riki licks your release up, kissing your clit softly. you force his head away, not able to take three sudden orgasms. “too much..” you pant, closing your legs. he sits up, looking at you with wide eyes, your cum shiny on his mouth.

“was i good?” he asks, hoping to receive praise.

you sigh, patting his head. "yeah yeah, clean yourself up." he wipes his chin and lays down next to you. “that was fun.” you sigh, humming in agreement and tiredness.

“i need a nap. you're crazy.” he snickers, watching you fall asleep. as you drift off, riki asks.

“can you teach me how to have sex next time?”

[aaksuitac]

[04:24 am] “what are we?”

wc: 2.3k

a/n: [fluff viktor brainrot thanks to @dilemmars. t dije q me vengaría baby, así q zas, un payback por tus podcasts jdjfjjsd. hope u like cause its ur fault]

he’s humming something you don’t quite understand, a distant tune that sounds familiar —probably you’ve heard him sing it before—, and even if you don’t recognize the melody aside from that, you can’t help but appreciate it.

his hands fidget with whatever he can reach as he sighs once more, as if he was stealing breaths from the world, heavy, almost as lidded as his eyelids. his hair falls on his eyes and in between his slender fingers while he curls the untamed strands, and you fall into an endless pit of staring at him as he scribbles, grunts, sighs, and finally pinches the bridge of his nose.

“statistically speaking, i’m starting to feel like the chances of me getting this right are adversatively proportional to the chances of you accidentally swallowing a fly.”

and you just blink, once, then twice.

he stares at you, gives you a pointed look. he can’t really say if you understood that you were just staring at him with your mouth parted, but you squint at him, snickering.

“what,” his low voice fails to ask, unbothered, knowing that you’ll answer regardless.

and you do, answering. “you haven’t even uttered a word in a while. i was just surprised that you could still talk, is all,” you grin cheekily, playing with a screw on the table as you turn left and right on the chair you’re sitting on.

viktor looks at you, and he can’t help but crack a smile. point for you.

“what you laughing for, mhh, mister science?”

“isn’t it enough to bother me from the moment i get inside the lab in the morning that you need to do it at night too?” he pretends seriousness, side-eyeing you teasingly.

“fair enough. i will consider your offer, man of fleeting memory, and take it upon myself to bother you longer.”

his mean stare wouldn’t even make a kitten mewl, but you take you hand to your heart, pretending to be wounded.

“don’t look at me like that! you’ll hurt my feewings,” you pouted, much to his amusement.

“fleeting memory?” he scoffs, accent rolling off his tongue. “when’s the last time you lost a hairtie, mmh?” he mocks.

“unfair!” you can’t help but giggle as you pretend to hide your hair from his view. point for him. “besides. i take better care of my hair than you do of yours.” you pouted smuggly. “mine looks prettier.”

“what?” he finally asks, letting out a chuckle this time as his eyes land on you for the first time in the good part of an hour.

you play with your hair to style it, and funnily pose, hands on your cheeks as you lay your elbows on the table.

“what, don’t I look pretty?” you smiled, letting out a cheeky giggle.

yes. he doesn’t say it, but his eyes haven’t dodged back to his papers just yet. it’s another point for you. so very pretty.

he doesn’t dare. he knows it. his mind, or at least the small portion of his mind that still ties him with the occasional reminder that he’s human, looks at you and wants you in a way that he’s never wanted before.

so viktor resolves in looking at you. maybe only for a moment, maybe only on those fragments of time when he’s tired enough that he looks at the stars and at the moon, yearning to reach them, only to think he’ll miss the moonlight, finally blinking to the realization that he had been staring into your eyes for too long.

his eyes are dull as he stares at you, and your expression of worry at the fact makes his heart skip a beat. “viktor?” you mumble, softly, sleepily, warily. he can’t stop staring at you, and while he supposes success and defeat can look the same in a mirror —therefore, he doesn’t really blame your confusion—, he finds no words to explain which one he’s feeling as you move your chair towards him by a push against the floor, solely accompanied by the sound of the little wheels rolling to him.

he grabs his walking stick and turns it around, pretending to poke at your chair, as if to teasingly shove it away. if you realize that he settles the walking stick just in the correct place so that your stool can’t move back, he doesn’t know. viktor just stares at the floor, to pretend that maybe the way your eyes turn tender when his reflection shines on them has nothing to do with what you’re about to say.

tsk, tsk. clueless viktor.

he’s expecting it, yes, but even with that on mind, he can’t phathom how your course of action chooses laughing as you fidget with the loose button on his vest, the second one from the top down. viktor purposely forces himself to stable his breathing, worry seeping into him, thinking that maybe you could feel his heartbeat grow faster beneath the layers of clothing.

and he feels like the remnants of a cheap ring that stain a finger blue, when comparing himself as he stands —sits— close and next to you. maybe its because you usually wear rings, and he can feel the ghost of them as your hand trails up and absentmindedly fixes his collar.

he can almost see it. your mind working, the pieces falling into place, the—

“either my eyes are deceiving me or yours have been on my lips for a rather long time.”

and he can just. blink. as if that could break how mesmerized he feels, how his heart swells up and covers his throat, how inexplicably he feels when you’re with him, near and alone. the need to know more. the need to use every trinket and screw to map out your body for him to explore, and to map out the wonders of your mind for the world to admire and maybe then find out the reason of his inability to look away.

he was so focused before. used to be.

he is. now, at you. of you. on you.

you.

another point for you. he isn’t keeping count, but something tells him he’s losing.

and as his gaze falls back to your lips in between a battle against your eyes, lost in which to stare and sink into their devotion, he hesitates again.

he thinks its funny. so funny, viktor holds back the dry chuckle that threatens to go past his lips. how to cherish you in a way that matters. how to love, the scientist wonders. is there a way that would allow him to unveil and unravel himself to you? could there be some kind of language, able to express the depth of his insides, that you, too, could understand?

what is love, anyways? is he in love with you because his coffee tastes better when it matches the dark of your pupils? because when he takes the mug from your hand and his fingers brush against yours, it seems warmer? because he notices how the dark shade in your eyes seems to mix with that of your irises, and the way the black eats the colour when you stare at him? because he claims to hate company while he studies alone, but one chair remains empty as he works, waiting for who it was meant for? because when he fails and surrenders himself to the fall, throws his walking stick against the wall, he yearns for your embrace and how your hair smells in the evenings?

is that love? and if it is, could you understand it?

if it is love, and he could say it, would such a short word convey its meaning, or was he speculating just a couple of paragraphs ago? was he assuming the meaning of what love entails?

even so. if he said it, would you repeat it? would you claim you love him because he loves you, claim to love him too? would you instead claim to love him despite everything, even the uncertainty of love itself?

…does he accept it himself?

he’s overwhelmed by the sheer amount of voices in his head. there’s too much chatter. too many questions he can’t answer, too many commas, too many question marks. too much, too much, too many.

so he silences them. makes the voices dim to a deep silence. and when his lips find themselves suddenly against yours, he finds out the true, effervescent meaning of quietness.

his hand fails to pull you closer because of the damn walking stick that gets in the way. or maybe its the chairs you’re both on that clash against each other. maybe its matter itself. for a while, its the first time viktor doesn’t want to know.

in a bold statement, he couldn’t give a fuck.

he’s kissing you.

and it should be bad because of all the unanswered questions. he’s skipping procedure. he’s gone from the fuck around to finding out and he doesn’t know where he is at this point.

what he does know, is that your hand pulls him by his necktie, and he’s gone. science? yours only. the science that he’d study all of the nights he may have left. the science behind what makes you. the science behind how your hand craddles his face while stroking his cheekbones. the science behind how you’re the closest you’ve ever been to him and somehow still not close enough. the science behind the reason why when you pull away makes his heart beat so loudly, as if it had forgotten how to a second ago.

your forehead rests against his. he shouldn’t have done that. he just… did it. maybe that was bad. was it? could it be? he had been waiting for so long too. he never thought he would…

“viktor, what are we?”

and he’s dead. he knows what the question implies, but he doesn’t want to answer. he could follow you like a lost puppy through piltover and zaun and hell knows where else. if he wasn’t dead now he would die right there and now without a second thought, because the feeling that overcame him was that love was suddenly a sentence or two away.

he knows he doesn’t dare. it’s one of the only thing he knows, one of the things he’s sure of.

but somehow, he moves. he stands up, takes the walking stick, and attempts to walk out the feeling that bounces inside him.

the walking stick always makes a noise when he walks, one with dificulties to interpret in terms of onomatopeia. not quite a thud, not deep enough to reach that quality. not a clack, for it is not entirely made of metal. still, as if it was a mix of both, he keeps walking.

viktor is nervous. thud-clack. he’s not moving far from his chair, nor is he going somewhere else. thud-clack. he still keeps pacing. thud-clack. maybe the answer is somewhere in the room. thud-clack. maybe he can reply.

thud-clack, thud-clack, thud-clack.

only does he then realize that he hasn’t answered your question. and a non-answer statement might as well be a rejection.

no. no, no, no. fuck.

he’s sitting again, but you stand up. your hair follows, long. moving and brushing against the skin of your shoulders in a way that he can’t help but claim it to be endearing.

you’re walking. you don’t make any kind of extra sound when you walk. your heels reverberate against the floor like any other, yet also they mark the beat of his heart.

he can’t reach for you. you walk too fast.

you stop when you feel the walking stick on your side. the part made for him to lean on as he walks hooks you, and you stand, not facing him.

he doesn’t use the walking stick as he stands. no, he keeps it hooked to your core, scared that you might leave. you could, he wouldn’t blame you. but he can’t allow it.

he holds it in the air as he takes one step. another step. you’re turning, surprised to see him standing, and you gasp when he lets himself fall on you.

your touch surrounds him. yes. that’s the closeness he needed. he drops the walking stick, his hands slithering on your body, pressing you against him, for no reason at all yet because it is all needs.

“what can we be?” he whispers. he takes the science approach. the viktor approach.

he isn’t too clueless after all.

he raises enough to look at your darkened, sleepy eyes. he wants to drown in them.

“if i wanted to kiss you everytime you hand me coffee, wanted you to sit on the same chair as ne and hug me from behind as I work, wanted you.” he swallows dry. “then, what can we be?”

he doesn’t want to say the words, and its petty.

it’s the 31st when the clock strickes five am and your hands travel through his hair to kiss him again. to unbalance him enough that he falls back on his chair and you follow him, sitting on his lap.

and as he kisses you, his hands worshipping the skin he can touch, the warmth he can feel through layers of clothing, he feels like maybe there’s a life worth living, so he can’t ask.

he’s heard boys and girls when he was young talk about it. “he didn’t want to celebrate our month-versary,” a girl cried as he played with his little boat, watching from afar as she was comforted by her friend.

it’s the 31st. and he can’t really ask the question now, because if he says it, how could you celebrate each month?

he moves the chair and holds you in his arms as your back falls against the table before him. maybe he can kiss you until next month. until the clock strikes and it’s the 1st.

he smiles as he kisses you, feeling you pull his necktie off. he thinks it’s the best idea he’s had in a while. and a true scientist always tries out their hypothesis.

~k.k. (☆) have fun!

aaksuitac, november 2024 ©

[mywhisperingwords]

these three little words | fred g. weasley

summary: four times fred told you he loved you and one time he truly meant it word count: 3.6k masterlist

“You’re the most annoying person I’ve ever met.”

Fred put a hand on his heart while saying, “You wound me greatly.”

Rolling your eyes, you kept walking, leaving him behind, “And yet you are still alive and well just to annoy me.”

Behind you, you could hear him snickering to himself before he caught up with you.

“Just you, my darling,” he told you, putting his arm around your shoulder, “besides, all I said was that your sudden interest in Potions was quite suspicious. For some unknown reason I doubt that you do it for George and me.”

He put his mouth close to your ear, his hot breath tickling your cheek and the sudden closeness made it hard for you to comprehend the next words he whispered, “One might wonder if some specific professor has anything to do with that.”

It took you a moment, but you finally realized what he meant.

“Are you seriously accusing me of fancying Snape? Snape of all people? Sickening,” you shouted as you pushed him away from you with a revolted expression. “That thought alone makes me want to throw up in your face.”

“Now, now, don’t be so vulgar. Snape is awkwardly handsome, quite old and wise. Maybe he could teach you some things,” he started winking suggestively at you before breaking in a laughing fit.

All you could was stare at him, horrified by the idea alone.

This whole conversation only sparked because you mentioned your study’s that were related to potion making. Which you only took up, to help out with new creations in relation to Fred, and George, of course.

Maybe he wasn’t that far off with the whole fancying idea, he just confused the person you fancied.

“Do you hear that?” he asked abruptly, a serious look on his face, that made your stomach twist in an uncomfortable way.

“What?” you asked, still annoyed but also a bit nervous. You weren’t that far away from the forbidden forest and you never knew what kind of creatures were luring in the shadows.

“I thought I heard,” he paused for a moment, suspension rising, “wedding bells.”

“Merlin, you’re a git,” you moaned.

You swiftly turned away from him and crossed your arms, more annoyed with him and his stupid jokes. Quickly you started walking, trying to get away from him.

Maybe it was your attitude or maybe he just realized that you were done with his jokes at the moment but he immediately went after you.

When he caught up with, he again put his arm on your shoulder, before saying, “Aw, come on. You know I was just joking.”

Ignoring him, you kept on walking in the direction of the castle. You weren’t bothered by his jokes, not really. It’s Fred you’re talking about here, he does not mean any harm — at least not to you.

You were also not upset by his little scare, or maybe a little bit. To be honest, you were not quite sure why you were so agitated currently.

Maybe it was the fact that you spent your free time studying, just for him, and George of course. But mostly for Fred. And all he could do is make a mockery out of it just so he doesn’t have to deal with real feelings.

Because you knew, that he was overwhelmed when you told him your studies were a way of helping him and George with their products. Fred wasn’t someone who asked for help, he’d rather deal with his problems on his own. But he also knew that accepting offered help wasn’t a weakness, especially when it came from you.

You recognized it in the way he got quiet for a moment, avoiding looking at you, his cheeks turning a shade of pink, before starting to joke around.

It was a typical Fred reaction.

“Don’t be like that, darling. I love you, don’t ignore me,” he murmured, pressing his lips against the side of your head.

Sometimes you wondered if he knew, when he said things like that but you were aware of the fact that he only saw you as a friend—he had made that clear numerous times.

“I’ll stop ignoring you if you stop joking about me and Snape,” you told him.

He held up his hands in surrender, “Deal.” Grinning at you, he linked his arm with yours, continuing the way up the hill towards the castle.

After a beat of silence, he interrupted it by saying, “But be honest with me, you fancy him at least a tiny bit, right?”

This time, when you pushed him away, you couldn’t help yourself and let out a laugh at his stupid joke.

&

Nights like these were your favorite.

Sitting in Gryffindor common room that was buzzing with conversation, around the fireplace with the people who felt like home to you, and Fred, who was so much more.

All the jokes, the laughter and the love that was shared between you made it sometimes difficult to deem this your life—it felt too good to be true.

Angelina was just retelling the story of how her newest fling asked her out, right after he won his quidditch game. The whole school witnessed that slightly awkward scene, but Angelina was head over heels about this public display of affection.

You could see that George was not so fond of these news, he was averting his gaze and seemed to obviously be more than annoyed at Angelina’s pawning about this handsome Hufflepuff boy.

If only George would tell her how he felt, but who were you to judge, considering you could not even tell your best friend about your feelings.

George’s behavior seemed to be obvious to anyone but Angelina, but Lee was the one to finally put George out of his misery and interrupt her speech, “I can’t even fathom what rid that guy to do all that in public.”

Angelina rolled her eyes, while everyone else laughed. “Maybe the fact that he knows what a woman wants?” she said, raising her eyebrow at you, clearly looking for support on this matter.

But you were the wrong one to address, because you couldn’t imagine anything more horrifying than somebody confessing their love for you in front of everyone.

“I understand that you like that kind of thing, but me personally, I think I would die of embarrassment. I don’t want my love to be so out in the open, at the end of the day it’s only between me and that person,” you told her, giving her an apologetic smile.

While trying to convey your thoughts on that matter, you couldn’t help yourself but let your mind wander to the person you always thought about these days it felt like.

Fred was sitting right next to you, but he was not his usual loud and joking self. There was something weighing on his mind and you wished you could just crawl inside it to find out what was wrong.

But you could not, so all you could do was lean to his side and quietly ask him, “Are you alright?”

Your words seemed to have pulled him out of his thoughts, because his eyes locked on yours, he was quiet for a moment, taking his time to think about his answer. He seemed to find it in your face, because he slowly began to grin before jumping out of his seat, interrupting George who was just talking enthusiastically.

Even with everyone’s eyes on him, he seemed to have only eyes for you.

“Oh, dearest lady of mine heart!” he exclaimed, striding toward you with a grand sweep of his arm. The room fell silent, a few chuckles escaping from his friends as he carried on with exaggerated passion.

He took your hand, eyes glinting with mischief as he dropped to one knee. “Thou art as radiant as the morning sun that doth chase away the drear of night,” he intoned, voice dramatic and thick with feigned longing. “Might I but win a single glance of thy affection, my soul would soar higher than the castle towers!”

You bit back a grin, feeling your cheeks heat up as everyone laughed, watching Fred carry on his theatrical performance.

He leaned in, lowering his voice just a touch. “Ah, fair lady, dost thou know what torment ‘tis to sit beside thee, with no claim upon thy heart?” His tone softened, eyes suddenly more serious than playful. “For, alas, thou hast bewitched me in ways I can scarce confess.”

Someone whistled, and George called out, “Go on, Freddie! Pour your heart out!”

With a smirk, Fred straightened and gave a bow. “Then, my fair one, grant me but a single smile, and I shall know all is well with my heart—for it beats for thee alone.”

&

You were staring holes into the ceiling, wide awake.

That wasn’t a rarity these days.

The impending war was hanging over your head, the uncertainty these days was keeping you up most nights nowadays. Never knowing if the next day would arrive with word of the beginning of the end.

You were staying at the Burrow, a house that has always felt like a safe place, a second home, to you. Lately it didn’t feel as secure as it used to, only the people occupying the space giving it the feeling of a home.

People were scared and though you tried not to show it, you were too.

Sleep was not going to come, you were sure of that. It has come worse and worse in the last few weeks.

That was the reason for why you would spend most nights in at the porch, looking out at the trees until the sun would rise and the rest of the house would wake up.

Some nights Fred would catch you up, not being able to rest himself, so he’d keep you company for a while, until sooner or later falling asleep on the floor next to you.

He would sometimes try to lighten the mood, trying to get you to laugh. Trying to put a smile on your lips, to make these times feel less daunting. And other times he would just sit in silence next to you, watching the sunrise. That’s when you would know that even Fred himself was struggling with being hopeful.

But you would never talk about it, because that would mean that this was real. The possibility of death and loss might not just be that — a possibility.

This night was different than the others and you couldn’t quite pinpoint why that was.

Maybe the reason was, that Fred was already out of bed. Normally you would be the first to come downstairs and he would soon after follow. Sometimes you would swear that he would just listen for your footsteps down the hallway, before he would emerge from his room.

This time when you walked down the stairs, you saw that the side door was slightly open.

When you walked by the kitchen window, you could see Fred sitting outside, staring at the night sky.

He did not acknowledge your presence when you took a seat next to him. All he did was continue to stare at the stars that shone so brightly, even in times like these, looking deep in thought.

After a few minutes of silence, his quiet question was a startling reminder that this fight was taking a constant toll on everyone, even the ones filled with happiness.

“Don’t you wish that it would all just end?”

You did not expect a question like this from him, the one person in this world that always had a hopeless optimism, no matter how bad things looked, he was the one that always said that things can only get better, even with a dagger in his heart.

There was no answer, that you could give him. At least not one, that he did not already know himself.

After a long moment of silence, where you admired the clear night-sky, you told him in a soft voice, “The stars are beautiful tonight.”

“Yes, yes they are,” he agreed, but when you looked over at him, his gaze wasn’t directed towards the sky, no, it was directed at you.

All you could do was stare back at him, and listen to the beating of your heart. You swore, if you stopped breathing, you could also pick up the beat of his.

“I love you,” he whispered and the beating of your heart stopped, for only a second, “You’re my best friend.”

How strange it was to feel anything at all.

&

You were bleeding.

A few moments before, you got hit, you think, you couldn’t remember when it happened exactly.

All you could do was to keep going, ignoring the humming pain at your side. The adrenaline pumping in your veins was keeping you from thinking clearly, acknowledging the deep wound.

The one and only thing that was on your mind, was Fred.

Ever since you heard his name leaving someone’s lips, mentioning that he was hurt, severely, all you could do was look for him in every face that laid on the ground. So many bodies, so many souls that have left before their time.

You felt guilty, that every time you did not see his face on any of the bodies, you felt a sense of relief.

With every turn you took, people were trying desperately to make it out alive. It was a miracle that you were even still alive at this point, with the way you were running past Death Eaters without a care in the world.

It was in the Great Hall where you finally found him, sitting on one of the gurneys.

Without a second thought, you ran towards him, engulfing him in your arms, needing to make sure that he was real and not just a figment of your imagination. There was too much demise for you not to consider that you yourself have already passed.

But when Fred put his arms around you and pulled you against his body you knew that this was real, because it hurt like hell. He was pressing against the wound on your side and you were hurting him too, you must be, given the state he was in. But not any of this mattered when you felt so secure in his arms.

“What were you thinking?” you muttered in his neck, not wanting to let go of him, “You could be dead.”

Fred’s ghost of a laugh brushed the skin of your cheek, leaving a haunted touch. His response to your worries was unconcerned, “I’m not.”

His carelessness made you push him from you, turning your head to the side, so he couldn’t catch a glimpse of the tears welling in your eyes when you whispered, “But you could’ve been.”

The realization hit you at once. There was a sudden urge to just scream your soul out, as you acknowledged that there was a possibility that you could not be sitting here with Fred.

But you did not lash out, no, you broke down. The adrenaline rush and the fear of losing Fred was leaving your body at once and you began crying, not being able to hold them in any longer.

There were so many emotions you were feeling in this moment, guilt for not staying with Fred, anger at anyone who harmed him, and panic for everything you have endured to still be alive.

Fred reached out his hand, taking ahold of yours, muttering sweet nothings to you, “I’m okay, hey, I’m okay.” But you wouldn’t hear it, even if his words rang true. The idea of finding a lifeless Fred in the Great Hall was still to raw. All he could do to comfort you, was to hold you, and he did as he continued to whisper, “I’m right here, alive and breathing.”

You heard his words but you did not recognize them, too caught up with sorting through the mess of your mind. But his next words finally got through to you, because he confessed with a low voice and a soft smile, “I love you too much to just leave you like that.”

Only a few moments later, he noticed the blood on your shirt, a fearful expression on his face as he saw your exhausted eyes, yelling out, “I need a healer. Now!”

&

Something shifted between the two of you after the war, you could feel it in the air, almost being able to touch it with your bare hands.

It was in the way he looked at you, like you would vanish the moment he looked away, and the way he touched you, the way he refused to let go of you, like he feared that you might fade away from his life.

As if he wasn’t the one that could’ve almost slipped away from you.

Maybe it was a reassurance to him, to feel that he was still here, alive and breathing.

To you it was torture. Never before has he been so close to you, yet so far. It was cruel, if you were being honest.

You had taken on the responsibility of helping out with the shop, with Fred healing and George being overwhelmed with the workload, it only made sense.

That was at least what you told yourself. The whole truth was, that you too were scared that if you only for a second turned around that he would be gone. That it had all only been a dream, and Fred had not survived the war but had succumbed to his injuries.

But he had.

It was a day like the one before, you sat next to Fred in the office after the shop had closed, looking over some of the paperwork.

You worked in silence next to one another, but all you fixate on was the way his thigh was plastered on your thigh, the way his arm was pressing right into your arm. It was hard to tell where you began and he ended, everything was blended together and you loathed it.

You hated it, because it was everything you ever wanted, but it looked wrong, misshapen.

“When I was talking to George earlier, he asked if you were staying over again, I told him that you were,” he mumbled, not looking up from his work.

That had been another thing that had been creeping into your new everyday without you noticing it at first. You spend most of your time at their flat, only going to yours to get the mail and water your plants, that were slowly rotting away with the amount of times you were actually around to take care of them.

Like so many other things, it had been unspoken. An unspoken agreement between you, that was just there.

Just like it had been unspoken that you would no longer spend the night on the living room sofa and instead on Fred’s bed, when he saw the uncomfortable sleep you would have on that sofa. Which was not completely true, because it wasn’t the sofa keeping you awake, it was the nightmares.

It was a day like this, long ago, when instead of letting you go left to the living room, he gently took your hand and lead you into his room. Neither of you said a word, when you got ready for bed. You just laid down together, taking comfort in one another, while holding onto each other.

You did not talk about, how you slept better together, or how the nightmares were fewer now. That was just another thing that sneaked its way into your everyday routine.

So when you walked up the stairs into his flat, that felt more like home to you than your own home, you did not say anything, because it was just the way things were now.

And you did not say anything, when you two stood in his tiny bathroom and undressed for bed, because it was just the way things were now.

And you did not say anything, when you crawled into his bed, onto your side, because it was just the way things were now.

But when he put his arms around you, and whispered those three words into your ear, like it was just a part of your new normal, you could not keep quiet any longer.

“Don’t say that, please, don’t say that. Not if you don’t mean it,” you whimpered into the darkness of the night.

He tightened his grip on you, whispering “But I do mean it.”

You were shaking, and with a raw throat you told him the truth, “Not in the way I want you to.”

“In what way do you want me to mean it?” he asked, voice soft.

“In every way.”

He put his lips on your neck, “I do, in every way.”

For the first time in, what felt like years, you finally let go. You let go of all that pain you endured over the years, all of the confusion and agonizing fear you felt. Sobbing into the arms of the man that you have loved, long before you even knew what love truly meant.

And all he did, was hold you together, so you could fall apart, continuing to whisper these words in your ear.

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 27 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley is required to travel for a week, and both you and he are exhausted. He's hoping this will mean fewer deployments in the future, but in the present, he's going to need to remember where his responsibilities lie.

Warnings: Angst, adult language, lactation kink, body image, fluff, smut, DILF Roo

Length: 3900 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

Once again, your parents extended their stay to spend more time with Rose, but when they finally flew back to Maryland, it felt strange to be on your own with your daughter. You and Bradley fell into a regular routine once more, but it took him days before he came clean about being stressed out. When he got home late from work to find you on the couch feeding Rose, you could tell by the set of his shoulders that he'd had a long day.

"Can we talk about some things?" he asked, bending to untie his boots. You'd been wanting him to confide in you for days, but you were already exhausted again from the late night feedings and had pushed the comments Bradley made to Jake to the back burner.

"What's on your mind?" you asked, secretly pleased that he leaned down to give you a long, needy kiss, complete with his big hand on your neck, before kissing Rose as she ate. It had been a few days since you and he were intimate, and your body was already responding to him as he dropped down on the couch next to you.

"Can we just move to La Jolla? Nothing stresses me out when we have copious amounts of champagne and oral sex."

You laughed at his unexpected response as he ran his rough fingers along Rose's fuzzy hair. "Don't forget about the seafood platters."

"Sweetheart, I'll never forget about the seafood platters," he promised, turning to look at you as his head sank back against the couch. "Your mom and dad are serious about moving out here."

Your smile started to fade away. "Yeah, Roo. They are. And I thought you were pleased by that fact."

"I am." His brown eyes remained fixed on yours. "I am. I told you I was. I want them close, but not too close. Like, I don't want them next door where they can hear me call you my filthy little slut or something."

"Bradley," you said, laughing again as he took Rose in his hands to burp her.

"They don't need to know the ins and outs of how you call me Daddy while you're gagging on my cock either." He kissed the baby on her forehead. "Sorry, Nugget. I'll teach you one day how babies are made, and you'll probably cringe the whole time."

You sighed and reached for Bradley, cupping his jaw in your hand and stroking his mustache with your thumb. "My parents are seriously getting their house ready to sell. So just give it to me straight."

He nodded. "I don't want them over here all the time, okay? I love them, I really do, but they take over our house when they come. And even though we finished the attic so they could have a place to stay when they're here, Rosie can move her bedroom up there when she's older. So it wasn't a waste of time since the contractor saw your tits."

"It was a photo of my tits! I didn't just whip them out for him to see!" Now Bradley was laughing as you said, "It sounds like you're worried about having some boundaries if my parents become our new neighbors."

"Yes," he replied, nodding as you ran your fingers along his jaw. "That."

"I'm sure we can have a conversation with them and address all of your concerns." Rose seemed to be done burping, and you were treated to the view of Bradley cuddling your four month old against his chest. "Now, can you tell me what else made you have a bad day at work?"

"What makes you think I had a bad day?" he asked, placing soft kisses on Rose's cheek. "I could never have a bad day when I get to come home to my girls." You sighed as he ran his nose along her hair and inhaled deeply before he met your gaze. "Okay. It's not the end of the world, but Mav informed me that I need to take a trip to the Naval Airstation in Fort Worth. I don't really have any details yet."

"Okay," you replied softly, finally voicing what had been on your mind. "Well, maybe Rose and I can come with you for a few days? I can't remember exactly how much vacation time I have left, but it could be fun. And you did say the next trip should be for the three of us to enjoy together."

Bradley shrugged and immediately said, "Fort Worth in August? Baby Girl, it's going to be miserably hot. I know you, for some reason, miss the east coast humidity, but this is going to be gross. Ask Jake about it, he's from that ridiculous state."

You couldn't believe how quickly he shut it down. "It was just an idea," you mumbled, watching him snuggle the baby. "So you wouldn't have to miss Rose the whole time while you're away."

His head tipped back as he sighed. "I'm taking this new position so I can hopefully deploy less often and be here more later on. Even if I have to start working longer days, a week or two away from home is nothing compared to five months."

You bristled. "I understand that, Roo. We've talked about this so much. But maybe try to be a little bit more patient with the idea of my parents moving here so I can have a support system when you're busy?"

When you stood and rushed toward the bedroom, Bradley was right behind you, hand reaching out to grab your shoulder while he still held Rose tight. "Are you mad at me?"

Your stomach roiled with irritation, annoyance and disdain. You hated when you got like this, because he was the one who could bring out the best and also the worst in you. "I don't know."

-------------------------------

You were kind of quiet at home. Bradley hated it. You were a bit more vocal during sex, but that certainly didn't make him feel any better about the rest of it.

"I have my dates for Fort Worth," he informed you when he strolled in from work with some yellow flowers and a new book for Rose. Today was important to him. He wasn't sure you'd remember why, but he still wanted to acknowledge it.

"When?" you asked, continuing to make dinner while he looked around for the baby. "She's napping in her crib," you added, seemingly knowing he always wanted his daughter nearby.

"Second week of August," he replied. "So, pretty soon. But just for a week." You nodded as Bradley walked closer, and he realized what you were cooking. "Marry Me Rooster?"

"Yeah." Your voice was soft as you looked at him over your shoulder. You were also still wearing your khaki uniform, and he could tell you were tired. He was tired, too, but he wanted things to feel more natural around here again. He didn't want to accept that this was just how things would be now when the two of you were taking turns getting up with Rose all the time.

He wished he hadn't made such a fuss about your parents, because he really did love them, and it would be nice to have some help occasionally. And now he felt like you were continually annoyed with him, and he had to figure out a way to fix this.

Your voice broke into his thoughts. "It's kind of a special day?" 

You sounded unsure. Like you thought maybe he didn't remember. But a smile immediately found his lips, and he gestured to the flowers. He should have known you'd remember. You remembered everything. You just made him a seafood platter to celebrate Carole's birthday the other day.

"I proposed two years ago." You visibly relaxed at his words as you took the flowers in your hands. He stroked the diamond ring on your finger as he said, "I couldn't wait another minute after I found this in the storage unit. I needed you to wear it. I needed you to say yes." You melted into his arms, and he kissed your forehead. "Can I go ahead and propose something else right now?"

You nodded and hummed, lips brushing the scars on his neck. "I'm just happy you remembered."

"Sweetheart, I remember everything," he promised. "And I propose that we plan a trip for the three of us before the year is over. We can go anywhere you and the Nugget want."

Your eyes lit up as he cupped your perfect cheek in his hand. "I have so many ideas, Roo."

"I knew you would. Can I make another proposal?" When you raised one eyebrow, he whispered, "How about we mess around before Rose wakes up?"

He was already wrapping his arms around you, turning you toward the hallway when you said, "But what about dinner?"

"We'll be fast," he replied confidently, turning off the stove burner.

"You're never fast! You like to linger!"

"It's a new era, Baby Girl. The mom and dad era. I'll learn how to be quick so we can finish before she wakes up."

This was the closest thing to a true quickie Bradley had experienced in a long time. Maybe ever. You were pushed up against the wall just inside the bedroom, belt jingling with your pants down around your thighs. He was going hard at a nice, steady pace with his hand inside your bra. Your warm milk dripped between his fingers and along his palm as he whimpered. 

"Oh, I love this so much," he whined as his other fingers found your clit. "I'm not happy about making this quick. I might need more later."

He could already hear Rose getting restless in the nursery down the hallway, her soft cries ramping up as Bradley slammed his cock into his wife. He wanted to make sure he got you off before he was done, but then you went and said something so hot, he knew he wasn't going to be able to hold on much longer. 

"I could always nurse you later if you want."

When he came, his vision flooded with dizzying color. Bradley lapped your milk from his hand, moaning your name as his hips eventually slowed. Rose was wailing now as you bent down to pull your pants up, cum dripping down your inner thighs as you looked at him with a little grin.

"I take it you're interested in my offer."

"Absolutely," he rasped, pulling his pants up so he could go say hi to his daughter. "If I ever say no to your tits, something is definitely wrong, Baby Girl. That would be your cue to take me out back and finish me off." You laughed when he said, "Happy engagement anniversary. I'll go take care of the Nugget."

-----------------------------

"When's the wedding?" you asked Jake as you dropped your tray next to his at lunch. He was eating the most delicious looking burger and a slice of pizza, and your soup and salad looked pitiful next to them. Seemingly no matter what you did, you'd stopped losing weight since the baby was born, and right now you were so exhausted, you couldn't even think about starting an exercise regimen.

"We've been engaged less than a month," Jake drawled, shoving some of the accompanying fries into his mouth. "Maybe some of us can wait a little longer to get hitched than your husband could, Angel." You rolled your eyes dramatically at him, but you were fighting a smile. "I'm trying my best to make sure that everything is in order for Jeremiah, if I'm being honest."

"Like what?" you asked, blowing on a spoonful of your soup.

Jake heaved a deep sigh, dragging a fry through ketchup. "He already calls me 'dad'. His speech was delayed, but it was still one of his first words, probably because I was around so much. I want to make sure Cat's ex doesn't get any rights, and if that means I need to hire another legal team before we get married, then so be it."

Tears stung your eyes as you patted his cheek gently. You knew you were lucky that you and Bradley were together and that he would do anything to take care of his child, but right now you were just so happy for Jeremiah. "He's such a sweet kid, Jake. And you love him so much."

"I do," he replied before taking an enormous bite out of his burger. You let him chew in silence while you picked at your lunch. Right now, you really wished Bradley was here, but the chances of him showing up were slim when he was out shadowing Maverick again. He was leaving in a few days for Texas, and you were feeling pretty emotional. It would just be you and Rose at home for a whole week by yourselves.

"Well, if you're looking for a nice venue, I know a good parking lot."

Jake barked out a laugh. "There's too much sentimental Bradshaw bullshit in that parking lot. No way I'd be allowed to get married there."

Then Cat showed up, and Jake's attention immediately shifted to her. You poked your salad around on your plate, wondering why you were so damn tired. You still had four more hours of work to get through before you had to pick Rose up and make dinner. Maybe you could just get pizza. But you shouldn't. But it sounded so good as you watched Jake eat his. But your hips and belly were already so big, you couldn't let yourself.

Your afternoon was filled with checking code that someone in Annapolis had entered, and they'd done a really shitty job. When you left your office, your eyes were tired, and you could feel yourself caving. You ordered a pizza and picked it up on your way home with Rose. Then you ate half of it on the couch while you fed her. And when you were done, you really wanted to cry, because you didn't know why you couldn't control yourself right now.

"I'm starving," Bradley groaned when he walked in. "You got pizza?" he asked, shoving two slices stacked up on top of each other into his mouth and moaning. Then he dropped down onto the couch and polished them off while you switched Rose to your other side. "I need to remember to pack my dress blues for Fort Worth."

"Why?"

Bradley shrugged and reached for the next slice. "Apparently, there's some sort of reception for the aviators that are selected for Top Gun in the fall. I don't know how much sway I'll have, but I'm really hoping I can pick some good ones for the next generation of the program since I'm aging out."

"You're not aging out, Roo!" you gasped. "You chose a different career trajectory!" 

"I mean..."

"Stop. You're not old. Don't even try to tell me you're old."

"I'll be forty soon."

"You're thirty-eight."

"That's almost forty."

"You look like a DILF."

He reached for the last slice of pizza, folded it up and ate it while he reached for Rose. Like usual, she curled up on her father. Her features looked so much like his, but he was always the first one to argue with you about that, so you said nothing while he chewed up his food.

"I need you to help me pack for hot as hell Texas. I'm thinking just shorts besides my flight suits and uniforms?"

"I'll help you as soon as Rose goes to sleep for the night."

Bradley took the reins for the rest of the evening while you tried not to fall asleep before the baby. That was much easier said than done, but at least Bradley supervised tummy time while Tramp licked Rose, and then he gave her a bath. He read bedtime stories and changed her into pajamas so you didn't have to, gently setting her in her crib before joining you where you sat in bed yawning.

"You okay?" he asked, brushing his lips along your cheek before heading to the closet to start pulling out clothes to pack.

"Yeah. I just wish I didn't order the pizza, because it's empty calories, and it probably made me feel worse and more exhausted in the long run."

"But it was delicious," he muttered, piling up some of his favorite tropical print shirts. "Be honest, how many of these do you think I'll need?"

You snorted. "Unless every night is happy hour at the Copacabana, probably none. But knowing you, I'd pack at least two."

"See, you understand," he muttered with a smile as you chose two of your favorites and handed them to him. It was strange watching him load things into a duffle bag for something other than a deployment or special mission. You knew exactly how long he'd be gone. You knew it was just for a week and that he could FaceTime you and Rose whenever he wanted to, but it still felt like you were sending him away.

"We're going to miss you." 

He immediately tossed the bag onto the floor and joined you in bed. "Don't cry, Baby Girl," he whispered, swiping at tears you hadn't realized were already filling your eyes. "I'll barely be gone at all. And I don't even have to finish packing tonight. I can do it later."

You nodded and let him envelope you in his warmth. That's how you eventually fell asleep.

----------------------------------

"This sucks," Bradley said for probably the hundredth time in the past hour. Standing at the curb at San Diego International Airport with a beautiful wife and a beautiful daughter, being forced to leave them for a week, was actually awful. He didn't want to go. He wanted to continue to cradle Rose against his chest with his arm wrapped around you until he missed his flight.

"You have to go now so hopefully you can do this less frequently in the future," you whispered, voice shaky with emotion. You looked really tired, and Bradley knew you wouldn't get much of a break this week. That's why he'd arranged for Nat to check on you at home a few times whether you wanted her to or not.

"Count on it, Sweetheart," he murmured, placing kisses to Rosie's soft hair as her little fingers poked at the insignia pins on his uniform. "And I need you to be a perfect Nugget for Mommy. I'll call later tonight after I get settled in the barracks."

"Okay." Your voice was muffled as you buried your face against his neck. "I love you."

"I love you both," he promised, collecting his final kisses from Rose before buckling her into her car seat in the back of the red Bronco. Then he got a particularly filthy kiss from you that left both of you grinning before you started to shove him toward the airport entrance.

"You need to go or you'll miss your flight. And then Mav will be on my case about it."

Before he ducked inside, he cupped his free hand to his mouth and shouted, "I love you!" He watched you blow him a kiss and then pull away from the curb before he headed to the counter to drop off his bag. 

He hated traveling like this, in his uniform. It felt like everyone milling around, trying to check their bags, was looking at him. He was only wearing it today, because he wasn't sure what to expect when he arrived at a base he'd only visited one time years ago. The last thing he wanted was to seem unprepared in front of an admiral, so he wore his khakis as a precaution.

"Lieutenant Commander. Where are you headed?" asked the airline agent when she looked at his pins.

Impressed, he replied, "Dallas-Fort Worth."

She took his duffle, wished him a good flight, and then Bradley slept for the entire time he was in the air. Maybe you weren't the only one who was exhausted, because the nap seemed to do wonders for him. He woke up feeling rested, and just as soon as he sent a text letting you know he landed, he was off in search of a rental car.

To his absolute delight, all he had to do was ask nicely and flash his most charming smile, and he was handed the keys to a brand new, black Bronco. It was a model year newer than your red one back at home, and he was excited to scrutinize all of the little differences as he drove it around for the week.

"Don't like the lack of a car seat," he muttered, tossing his bag onto the backseat where he was so used to seeing Rose's infant carrier. 

Was he really that guy? Did he already miss his kid enough that he had to open up the photo gallery in his phone and scroll through a few pictures before he could drive away? Apparently he was, and it made him ache to be away from her. This was so much worse than going to La Jolla without his daughter, because right now, he had neither of you.

When his stomach started rumbling for dinner, he drove to the barracks and showed his identification, only to be told his room wasn't ready yet. So he went right back out to the Bronco in search of dinner. He knew the name of a tavern popular with officers in the area, so he typed it into his GPS and headed in the direction it told him. He had to laugh, figuring he was about to walk into the Lone Star version of the Hard Deck, but that's kind of what he wanted right now. Dinner somewhere that felt comfortable if not familiar.

"Oof." It looked like a dump compared to his bar at home, but it seemed popular, and he was hungry enough that it didn't matter. When he walked in, he took a quick survey of the space before grabbing an empty stool at the bar. He ordered your favorite beer and a sandwich and took his phone out, careful not to set it on the bar in case the owner was part of some sort of association along with Penny.

He tried reading an article, but he felt as though he was being watched. Bradley tried to ignore it, fairly certain he didn't know anyone on base here, but the feeling nagged at him while he ate. The twang of music playing on the jukebox was distracting, but not distracting enough. When he finished his food and wiped his mouth with a napkin, he picked up his bottle and drained the rest of his beer while he glanced around. 

Then he saw a young woman in a flight suit playing pool not too far from his spot at the bar. Her bright blue eyes were focused on his face, and her lips curled into a grin before she bent to sink her shot. Her patches told him she originated from Virginia Beach like he did, and that her call sign was Indigo. As Bradley turned, ready to sign his bill and leave, he saw her approach out of the corner of his eye.

"Can I help you?" he asked, turning her way again with one eyebrow raised. She was attractive, even up close, and he remained silent while her gaze traveled from his face down to his chest where his name tag was displayed. Then she gasped in delight.

"Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw," she said, eyes snapping back up to meet his. "All the way from Top Gun. I've been waiting to meet you for weeks, Sir."

------------------------------

Well, I hope BG is having a nice time at home without her husband. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

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