#maybe we can ask for an extension

[tabellae-rex-in-sui]

I'm new to Sade so sorry if this is a stupid question, but was Sade gay? I'm currently reading Justine and noticed the passionate, semi-romantic descriptions of m/m sex, which contrast with the crude descriptions of f/m sex. I've not read all of Sade's books, but the ones I have read also feature characters who're mostly disinterested in women, who give off self-insert vibes (e.g. Dolmancé). Am I reading too much into it? IDK but I was wondering if you could shed some light.

Happy deathday to Sade!! lol

Really all that can be said with certainty is that he definitely wasn't straight lol. Like anyone who died before modern queer theory, Sade's sexuality can be difficult to label with today's terminology. He was certainly attracted to both men and women, so for simplicity's sake I just say he was bisexual. But really, who knows...

Characters that he uses as self-inserts like Dolmancé in PitB or Bressac in Justine are pretty exclusively attracted to men. Like you said, there's multiple times in his writing where characters will praise m/m sex and show blatant disgust towards sex with women. But if you look at Sade's life, there's only one known* male sex partner and many women. There's also several women Sade was in love with throughout his life, but there exists no letters of him professing love to any man. Could this be because male victims were less likely to go to the police, therefore less known to us? because women were easier to pursue in public? because even he felt the pressure of societal norms? because he kept relations with men better hidden? because any such letters or records were selectively destroyed by a relative? Who knows! It could be some, all, or none of these things. It's really up to the interpretation of the reader. The misogyny, philosophical extremism, and very culturally different ideas about sex add so many different variables to Sade's sexuality.

To add further confusion: gender and sexuality were much more correlated in Sade's writing (and seemingly in the time period in general, I mean look at the bisexual Lord Hervey being referred to as "the third sex"), male characters who get sodimized call it them "becoming women", women who put on strap-ons "become men", even women who get sodimized are masculinized: Saint-Ange says she wants to be a "Ganymede" to Dolmancé. So sodomy seemed inherently gay to Sade, regardless of the sexes involved or what roles they played. Whereas today, that's definitely not the case. Beauvoir follows along with the sexuality-gender correlation and suggests that Sade felt more feminine than masculine and his written contempt for female genitalia was a product of his own gender frustrations. From what I've read, most modern historians tend to avoid labeling Sade with anything other than "sodomite" and "libertine" only using "bisexual" and "homosexual" to label certain actions he performed like "homosexual sex" "bisexual orgy" etc. This is when the word queer is godsent.

Tldr; He's too 18th century libertine for modern labels. Colloquially, I default to calling him bi, but we'll never really know. Maybe he would have preferred gay due to his preferences/philosophies. Who knows. Safest bet is to just call him queer.

*Should go without saying but, there were obviously more. Latour is just the only named one with recorded proof.

[introspectivememories]

sometimes i wonder what was the source of the obsessiveness between lewis and nico, knowing each other since childhood? i was always curious about lewis acting "no homo" when it came to nico?? is there an answer? i don't really want to have what they had. sounds intense

i'm sorry i'm not answering any of your other questions but "i don't really want to have what they had" is sooo fuckin funny to me

[natsmagi]

Idk if this has been asked before but any thoughts on Rinne... Specifically fem Rinne... Like.. What she would look like? I've seen many people draw her different ways (big boobs or just.. Flat) but I'd like to know how you think she'd look like... Hot either way obviously

oh i think i have answered an ask like this before!! but i dont feel like finding it so ill answer again AJSFHKJ

but i can also see rinne go both ways! personally i prefer her with a shoulder length mullet and ~B maybe C cups, but i can definitely see her with longer hair and bigger bust too!!

the reason behind my approach is simply me trying to carry over the characters charm into femstars, and i think rinnes charm lies in his mixture of rowdiness and sweetness. playful big brother kinda deal. so i personally prefer her with a sort of soft butch appearance!! here is the one time ive drawn her

on the other end though, u can DEFINITELY take the more.... Theming route. since rinnes whole thing is gambling and u very often see casino ladies looking like this

and itd make sense for rinne to look like this when taking his FS1 into account

SO I CAN DEFINITELY UNDERSTAND BOTH PORTRAYALS!!!! i personally find the first one a lil more fun but thats just me!

[newtness532]

i know that graduating one semester later is not that big of a deal and i haven't made any plans about what comes next so it doesnt even make a difference. so why does it feel just so terrible

[songofsunset]

Man, we don’t know each other, like, well, but Lori you are such a consistent positive presence in my life and I’m glad we met via goggles or whatever that goofy google chrome extension was. Thank you.

I still tell that story sometimes when I'm scrolling my dash and you pop up! I'm like HEY YOU'LL NEVER GUESS HOW I MET THIS PERSON!!!

You have been a treasured acquaintance of mine for years and years now, and I am glad to know that I have had a positive impact in your life <3 <3 <3

[totaleclipse573]

Thinking rn about how Terios was raised and grew up on the Black Comet I’ll talk in the tags

[apoloniaspiegelgold]

All my life I've been told by all kinds of people that they can never really tell what I'm feeling or what's going through my mind because apparently I'm always just hiding everything behind a smile so that I've become rather unreadable. And then he just. Takes one look at me and goes 'Yeah. I know that face, oh here we go again, she's about to unleash her thoughts. She's gonna bash that theory I just showed her so hard. Where's my popcorn?' I hadn't even said anything yet and he was already laughing.

And to be honest. It's quite nice to be known, actually.

[toytulini]

Thank you for your tags on the baeddalism post. As someone who is aroace (formerly biace) and a nb transmasc I've literally watched every identity I have be dragged into discourse time and time again and it's always the exact same rhetoric to a nauseating degree. People are so terminally online that they constantly invent new nonexistent stereotypes of other queer identities to get mad at or just pick a queer identity to be the monster of the week, and it's excruciating to see it repeat the same way everytime.

I wanted to try to respond to this more eloquently after i had some caffeine, but if we wait for eloquence itll go unanswered for years. but lmao yea of course. Im also aroace and enby. I was here since like 2014, I suffered through reading all these same stupid arguments about a-specs and my tolerance for it is so fried. The queer infighting and gatekeeping bullshit is so rotting. I hope we learn one of these days. My disillusion that this keeps fucking happening is at least tempered by the fact that all the blogs who I followed for good takes on inclusionism and queer solidarity during the acecourse are also not tolerating this shit, and they are recognizing it as the same old bullshit its been the whole time.

[stellardeer]

I put this in the comments on this post already, and I've brought it up on my blog before but maybe putting it in a reblog will help the idea reach the people who need to see it.

@staff Why do we not have an option to hide filtered posts completely?

If I wanted to filter out content like what anon is talking about, like if I wanted to avoid seeing the phrase 'kill yourself' altogether because it is triggering to me, the filter feature is kind of useless because it hides the post and then tells you the exact filtered phrase that hid it. So if I'm filtering for 'kill yourself' and come across a post containing those words, it goes from being a full text post (that I might have been able to ignore if I weren't in a reading mood) to literally just a post with a grey background and a bright blue message that says 'kill yourself'. How is this helpful to anyone??

At the very least a way to hide/show the filter labels on a hidden post would be nice, even if we can't hide the post completely.

Hoping people kill themselves isn't illegal but posting about it online means the site can ban you for it. More importantly, those posts are triggering as fuck to people who are already on that edge. Yeah jkr is fucking awful and I wouldn't care if she died but you've caused my ocd to feed the depression and now I have to find a way to avoid giving into the urge to try to fucking die.

[reidrum]

you say ‘what a mind’ | s.r.

A/N: she’s back and with fluff! (?) exams were really putting me through the ringer but i missed posting so i fixed up this draft i had, i hope you enjoy :D ive been listening to sabrina 25/8 since she dropped so hopefully song inspired fics coming soon 🤞🏽

summary: you get really excited about something new you learned and spencer gets really excited about you

wc: a short n sweet 1k

cw: none, tooth rotting fluff

_______________________________________________

With Spencer's extensive knowledge of just about everything, you had assumed that there wasn’t much you contribute to his abundant learning.

You maybe weren’t three-PhD’s smart, but you were smart, averagely speaking. But you knew Spencer was smart, and truth be told it intimidated you. He never made you feel bad about not knowing something, ever. Anytime he gets to talk to you about anything his face lights up like the night sky.

There was, however, one time you had come home all excited to explain a concept from class that finally clicked for you. And the first person you wanted to tell was Spencer.

He watched you bound up to him with a spring in your step, bright eyed and wide cheeks as you told him, “I have to tell you about what I learned about today, it finally made sense to me. Like it felt like a real life light bulb final puzzle piece fitting type moment!”

He smiled warmly down at your eager face, “Alright angel, lay it on me.”

“Okay, I know it’s a little stupid it’s taken me this long to get it, but it’s—“

The call of your name sternly yet fondly falling from Spencer’s lips interrupts your self deprecating preamble, “Hey, we don’t do that, remember? We talked about this.”

Your rants almost always started with some self deprecating remarks, and he would always frown and try to interject and shut them down, to which you’d wave him off under the guise of, “If I stop, I’ll forget!” You were smart, but stubborn to a fault. He loved you for it, but it was hard for him to see you not understand the value you held, the value that your voice and your words and your opinions held. The value that he knew with all certainty you possessed.

A sheepish blush rises on your cheeks as you mumble, “Sorry.”

His fingers trickle closer to yours and wrap around them firmly, bringing you to sit on the couch next to him as he pulls your legs over to rest on his.

“Don’t be sorry, baby,” he says saccharinely, “We’re working on being nicer to ourselves right?”

You nod, he smiles softly back at you and continues, “Okay, tell me what you learned today.”

You start on your long explanation of the inner workings of the nervous system and its intricacies, explaining details and anecdotes that really showcase the inner workings of how your mind processes information.

Spencer can’t help but stare at you in deep fascination, complete with an awestruck smile and glimmering eyes.

He’s met hundreds of scientists, specialists, celebrities even, and listen to them talk about their research in extensive detail and with expansive knowledge. Hell, he’s had to do it himself with his three doctorates.

But as he sits in front of you, watching the person he’s most fond of on this planet watch you talk with so much speed, conviction, passion, with your hands move with purpose and excitement, he truly swears he has never been more in love with you than that moment.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you ask cautiously.

“You,” he moves closer, “Are so intelligent, did you know that?”

“Spencer, I’m not in the mood for jokes plea—“

“No, my love. You are brilliant,” he moves closer to be an inch away from you, placing his hands on your cheeks, “The way you process information is fascinating. When I watch you explain things to me I can see you organize it in your pretty head. It is actually mesmerizing watching you absorb knowledge the way you do. You’re like, a beautiful puzzle all undone, but by the forces of nature you’re able to put yourself together and bear the finished product to me, to anyone.”

Your eyes tear up, “Spence…what the fuck.”

He chuckles softly, “I mean it,” he holds you firmly, planting you in the roots of his belief, “What a mind you have, darling.”

It’s enough to make you tuck your head into his chest, obstructing his view from your imminent tearfall.

“You can’t just say things like that.” you mumble against the soft fabric of his shirt.

Spencer instinctively wraps his arm around your torso, letting the other hand take purchase in your hair, gently stroking it down, “Why not?” He speaks softly.

“Because…I might think you're like, in love with me or something.” You joke.

His laugh rumbles through his chest and into your rested head, “Would that be so bad?”

“Yes.”

“And why is that?”

“It’s going to be another whole moon cycle before I have another a-ha moment like this again. I’ll have nothing to impress you with.”

Spencer smiles and sighs, squeezing you tighter against him, “You always impress me.”

You groan, “Ugh, you don’t have to say that to make me feel better.”

“You do know that you’re really smart, right?” you open your mouth to argue but he cuts you off, “You always underestimate yourself, but you’re really one of the smartest people I know. And I know a lot of smart people.”

A deep sigh leaves you, but he continues, “And you don’t have to believe me. I’ll believe it enough for the both of us. You and your brain are remarkable, so when you come to me with your a-ha moments thinking I’ll be impressed with your spark of knowledge, just know that I am impressed with you, but it’s more because I get to see you realize just how capable you are yourself.”

The calming motion of his fingers through your hair tether you back to this world, your insides fluttering about like butterflies in an open field. It was hard not to believe his words when Spencer was always so kind to you. It was always so easy for you to play it off like you didn’t deserve it.

But Spencer knew wholeheartedly that you did deserve it, that you were even entitled to it. And he’d spend the rest of his life reminding you. That, you knew for a fact.

“I love you,” you say softly, “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me angel, I love you too.” He mumbles in your head, his hand trailing down your sides in comfort.

[gghostwriter]

Can i have a fluffy spencer x reader piece. Just something cozy where they are all at rossis maybe after a case for some team bonding and chill time. And like he is offering everyone wine and reader goes along like "i can't" bcs she pregnant? Fluff fluff super fluff pls

Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader Trope: Established Relationship; Fluff! Just fluff! wc: 0.6k A/N: Reader is not part of the BAU, hope that's alright. I had fun writing this, hope you enjoy! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated 💗 Main masterlist

Special Diet. // Spencer Reid

Your fiancee and his team had been out on the field for three consecutive cases all over the country. Just through Spencer’s nightly ritual calls alone, you could tell how tired and stressed he was and by extension the other members. Which was why, during their second night back in home ground, you volunteered to cook them a small feast—as long as Rossi hosted it in his place, which he readily agreed to as he was never one to say ‘no’ when a culinary chef such as yourself volunteers to cook up a meal.

“So what did our local chef cook up for the night?” Morgan asked as the team sat around the laid out table by the backyard.

You smiled, placing the finishing touches on the table. “I wanted to give the Italian cuisine a break so I present to you, French delicacies. For the starters, we have here salade lyonnaise with slices of baguette—” gesturing to the mid-size plate to their upper left. “—our mains, steak frites, and yes, I remembered to make yours rare, Morgan—” a few chuckles escaped from the team members as the called out profiler sheepishly placed his hand down “—and profiteroles for dessert.”

Rossi then started going around the table with his choice of wine to match the lavish dinner you’ve prepared.

“If you weren’t engaged to Reid, I’d marry you,” Penelope gushed as she took a bite of her meal.

Emily chuckled. “Get in line, Penelope. I get to marry her first if she changes her mind.”

“You never fail to impress me, Bambina. Now can I interest you for a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon?” Rossi asked as he reached your seat between Spencer and Emily.

“Actually, no thank you,” your answer eliciting an echo of utensils being dropped on the table. “I’m trying to cut back.”

JJ leaned forward. “Our very own wine connoisseur is saying no to Rossi’s aged wine?”

“I’m trying this special diet,” you shrugged, subtly studying if any of the best profilers the FBI has to offer understood the real reason why. Based on Hotch’s small smile behind his glass wine, the unit chief had caught on quite quickly.

“You don’t need to diet. You’re petite and fit, right kid?” Morgan clarified.

The corners of Spencer’s lips pulled slightly up as he squeezed your hand in his. “Actually, she does need to stick to the diet.”

Penelope gasped, clearly appalled at the stance your fiancee had taken. “Take that back! No way you said that, Reid!”

You giggled at the affronted reactions of the team—minus Hotch and Rossi as the two older profilers clinked their glasses together at the side. “It’s fine, Penny. It’s the truth anyway.”

Emily sent a dirty look to Spencer before asking on. “What else does this special diet entail?”

“Unpasteurized dairy, cold cuts, liver, game meat, and raw sushi to name a few,” Spencer listed out loud and with each, the smile on his face grew bigger and bigger.

“Wait, isn’t that—” JJ mumbled before promptly standing up from her seat and rushing to give you a hug.

Morgan tilted his head to the side. “What? What did I miss?”

Spencer chuckled before revealing the most obvious clue. “She has to follow the strict diet for 36 more weeks.”

There was a beat of silence before shouts and squeals emitted from all ends of the table.

“You’re pregnant?” Penelope gasped.

Emily added on. “With boy genius?”

You both nodded, bringing out a printed sonogram safely tucked in Spencer’s jacket that was draped around your shoulders. It had been a surprise when you went in for your yearly check-up but it was the type of news that Spencer quickly became happy with. His own family was expanding and he couldn’t have chosen a better partner than you.

“We present to you, baby Reid!”

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[astraystayyh]

Israel doesn't want to repopulate Gaza, you loveable dummy

Seriously, find one Israeli on this site who'll say otherwise. And no, quoting Ben Gvir doesn't count (assuming you even know who that is) anymore than quoting, say, Rudy Giuliani would count for anything, even though he supposedly spoke for the president of the USA for a time.

Hamas has 136 hostages. Including women, and actual literal babies, assuming they're still alive, that is. This could all have ended weeks ago if they'd fucking returned them. Israeli society would physically march on Benjamin Netanyahu's home and remove him in a coup if the hostages were returned tonight. But as long as they have Israeli people, and are unwilling to negotiate their return, that's an ongoing war crime. Is Israel evil for being a bull in a China shop trying to get back a "mere" 136 innocent civilians? Maybe. But Hamas started this and they can end it, they just don't want to. Please, justify that.

Hello, since you asked for one Israeli, here, I'll give you multiple statements:

Hundreds of activists at an Ashdod gathering in late November called for the reestablishing of Jewish settlements. “Let it be known that you support the appeal to renew Jewish settlement throughout all of the Gaza Strip. The nation is waiting for you”— Yossi Dagan, head of the Samaria Regional Council.

Israel “should fully occupy the Gaza Strip”— Heritage Minister Amichai Eliyahu, of the far-right Otzma Yehudit party.

An Israeli real estate firm pushes to build settlements for Israelis in Gaza. “Wake up, a beach house is not a dream” reads the ad.

Israeli Knesset member Limor Son Har Melech posted a video of herself in a boat with other settlers off the coast of Gaza. “Settlement in every part of the Gaza Strip … A large, extensive settlement without fear, without hesitation, without humiliation. This land is the land that the creator of the world gave to us.”

Israeli Settler, Daniella Weiss says Palestinians who live in Gaza, have no right to stay in Gaza.

An Israeli soldier saying that Israelis should start “investing” in Khan Younis.

Also why would the words of Ben Gvir not count? He is an elected minister, his words hold weight and they expose Israel’s clear intent to make Gaza inhabitable for Palestinians so that Israelis could settle in there— by destroying the infrastructures, making the health system collapse entirely, bombing entire residential neighborhood, Israel is trying to ensure that Palestinians wouldn't be able to return back to their land, because there is nothing livable left there.

And I'm glad you bring up all of this ending if the hostages were returned— Hamas tried to strike up a deal for the return of ALL the hostages, in exchange of the release of all Palestinian prisoners. Israel refused. You know why? Because this has never been about hostages and their safety for Israel.

There is a reason why Israel shot its own hostages when it mistook them for Palestinian civilians, waving a white cloth. There is a reason why the IDF called to shoot indiscriminately on Oct. 7, knowing that it could kill some of the hostages too. Because Israel wants to kill Palestinians, to "thin out its population" (or maybe we shouldn't take into account the says and actions of Netanyahu too ://). This is why it targets schools and mosques and hospitals and ambulances and refugee camps. Israel knows that if it does get all its hostages back, then there would be nothing to “justify” its genocide in Gaza (although, as UN Secretary-General said : "Nothing can justify the collective punishment of the Palestinian people. The humanitarian situation in Gaza is beyond words")

Israel is the only reason why the hostages aren't fred yet. THEY are unwilling to negotiate the return because they don't want to stop this genocide. What good is a five days ceasefire only for the bombings to return? Do you even realize how psychologically traumatizing it is to have a countdown of when your massacre would resume? The only acceptable deal is for Israel to establish a permanent ceasefire, something that it refuses to do. The only one to blame is Israel.

And you say Israelis would instigate a coup to oust Netanyahu, that's nice, then what? Will you return the land to its rightful people? Will you give back Palestinians their rights unequivocally? Will you call for the dismantlement of Israel that was built on massacres? The reason why Israelis are angry at Netanyahu is rooted in the unresolved hostage situation. Just because you don't support Netanyahu doesn't mean that you aren't a zionist who finds the murder of more than twenty thousands Palestinians justifiable. A young girl had her leg amputated with no anesthesia on the kitchen counter of her home and you talk about “Israel being a bull in a China shop”? You consider the targeted attacks on civilians as careless actions by Israel? It actually astonishes me how inhumane some of you can be.

And here is what Dr. Refaat, who was targeted and murdered by the IDF btw, had to say about this matter:

Whether it's Netanyahu or someone else, it does not matter because Israel as a whole is an occupation, one built on the bloodshed of palestinians.

And it is funny how you choose to distort history whichever way you like it, to regard October 7th as an isolated instance that happened out of the blue. Hamas didn't start anything, Hamas was created in response to the indiscriminate and careless shooting of palestinian civilians in the first Intifada, that was decades ago. October 7th was a resistance to an ongoing colonization, Israel started this when it displaced and murdered palestinians on 1948. None of this would've happened if Israel did not colonize Palestine. It has been 100 days of this ongoing genocide, wake up and stop deluding yourself into a reality where Israel is the victim.

[pathologicalreid]

home run | s.r.

in which Spencer and jareau!reader finally get the opportunity to take the next step in their relationship

margotober masterlist

who? spencer reid x jareau!reader category: smut (18+ mdni) content warnings: sex bro idk. the sweatshirt. smut with a lot of plot, glasses!spencer, dostoyevsky, paulo coelho, ur crazy if you think i proofread this, flirrrrrrting, protected p in v sex, fingering, heavy petting, post coital dysphoria (why can't i let them simply have a nice time) word count: 4.01k a/n: next on my quest to give fanfic readers realistic sex to read, i give you this! as always, tell me how u feel, my inbox is always open.

“Will you unzip me?” You asked softly, pulling your hair out of the way and turning your back to Spencer, who paused his own disrobing to undo the zipper of your dress.

It’d been a long day, the light hours spent in the BAU, and the evening spent at Rossi’s, who wanted to get at least one more cookout in before the weather turned. You’d finally reached the end of your day, and for the first time, you were spending it with Spencer.

Facing away from him still, you let the fabric drop to the floor, taking your sweatshirt from your go bag and tugging it over your head. Spencer hummed from behind you, “I can’t believe you still wear that.”

A small smile formed on your face as you turned around. “It’s comfortable,” you justified, the old FBI Academy sweatshirt had previously lived in Spencer’s apartment, but you’d claimed it for yourself nearly two years ago. It had the perfect amount of wear, making it one of your favorites—among other reasons.

You tried not to let your eyes linger while Spencer changed, instead focusing on details in his room that you’d never seen before and making note of what books he kept on his nightstand. “It’s old,” Spencer responds plainly, putting on an old MIT t-shirt and reaching out for you, grabbing your waist and pulling you close.

Before being with Spencer, you wouldn’t have considered yourself the kind of person to take things slowly, but with him, that was the only option you were willing to consider. You were so scared of things being ruined with him that you only made moves when you knew you were absolutely ready. Maybe that was why it took you nearly two years before the two of you started dating, but he was willing to walk the tightrope with you.

You walked around the bed, sitting up on the mattress and watching him go into the bathroom, “So, what do you want to do tonight?” He asked from the bathroom, coming back out with his glasses on and leaning against the doorframe.

Humming, you look over at him, “Didn’t think that far ahead?” A teasing lilt carried through your question, cocking your head as he made his way over to you. He’d asked you on Monday if you’d like to spend Friday night at his place, and he had seemed surprised when you accepted his offer.

“I have a few ideas, but I wanted to see if there was something specific you had in mind. Since you’ve already interrupted your usual schedule to stay here, I wanted to give you a choice,” he rambled. He always rambled when he was nervous.

You raised your eyebrows curiously, “Spence?”

With him standing in front of you, you studied his eyes. His contacts had a blue tint to them, so seeing him in his glasses was really your only opportunity to see his eyes as they truly appeared. “Yeah, baby?”

Your heart fluttered at the nickname, “We don’t have to do anything special. What would you be doing if I weren’t here?”

“Reading,” he told you unabashedly.

Honestly, you should’ve guessed that. “Okay, then we can read. Do you have a book I can borrow?”

Spencer nodded, “You’re welcome to anything, but are you sure? We could find a movie to watch instead.”

“We don’t have to do anything special just because it’s our first night together, and besides, reading side by side sounds nice,” you told him, waving off his concerns about entertainment and walking into the living room, scanning over his extensive collection. Plucking one off the shelves, you return to Spencer, watching him pull the covers down on the bed, preparing both yours and his side.

You set your book on the nightstand and climbed up on the mattress, his box spring causing it to be almost precariously high. “The Alchemist?” He questioned, reading the title of the book that you had selected.

Tracing the title with your fingertip, you shrugged, “I’ve never read it. Should I pick a different book?”

He shook his head in response, “No, and I don’t want to influence your opinion with mine.”

“Well, what are you reading?” You peered over to look at the book in his hands, reading the cover, “How many times have you read that book?” Since you started dating four months ago, he’d read Crime and Punishment at least three times.

Flipping the book back open, Spencer went back to the pages, “I’ve never read this version before, the editor decided to publish his thoughts along with the translated text.”

You raised your eyebrows curiously, “And what are your thoughts on that?”

“I think his translation of the original Russian is perfectly adequate, but his comments read like a high schooler who was forced to read the book for a class,” he explained, his hand absentmindedly resting on your bare thigh once you settled into the bed.

Humming, you opened your book, reading the foreword and trying to ignore Spencer’s hand placement. There was no reason to lose your mind over a little thigh touching.

Once you made it to the beginning of the actual story, you became vaguely aware of Spencer’s thumb rubbing small circles on the inside of your thigh, leading to you closing the book and setting it back on the bookshelf. Taking a deep breath, you rolled onto your side, leaving Spencer to move his hand from your skin, and you rested your head on his shoulder.

You looked up at him, watching his lips move as he read the words on the page, you felt very lucky to have this part of Spencer. The Spencer who let his glasses slide to the very bottom of his nose and had an affinity for reruns of cartoons from the eighties. “Are you alright?” He whispered once he finished his chapter, reaching an arm up to ruffle your hair affectionately.

“Mhm,” you murmured, “Don’t feel like reading.”

Gently, Spencer craned his head to drop a featherlight kiss to the tip of your nose, eliciting a small smile from you. “Let me know if you need anything,” he said softly.

As odd as it seemed, you liked watching him read, at the very least, it was impressive to watch. You kept your eyes on him, watching how intently he focused on the book despite having read it several times before.

He looked back down at you, catching you staring, “Can I kiss you?”

The question took you by surprise, but you nodded in response, looking at him as he ducked his head down and pecked your lips. He pushed his glasses up on his nose, putting his free hand in front of his mouth as he went back to reading.

In his defense, his resolve lasted for one more chapter, turning the page before snapping the book shut and resting it on his nightstand. Spencer turned his head to yours again, “Hey.”

“Hi,” you responded, unsure about where he was headed with this. Opening your mouth to ask him a question only to be met with his lips on yours, he took his time now, resting a hand on the side of your neck, the pad of his thumb at the hinge of your jaw as he held you close.

Tentatively, he swiped his tongue along your bottom lip, and that single motion drew a small moan from the back of your throat, causing you to pull away from Spencer.

Your eyes were wide in surprise, “I’m so sorry. I don’t know where that came from.”

Spencer shook his head, pulling at your waist, “C’mere,” he said, encouraging you to straddle him, your knees on either side of his hips, “Is this okay?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, leaning forward and resting your hands on his chest, you pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “This is okay,” you whispered against his lips.

It wasn’t like the two of you hadn’t made out before, it was usually just on the couch, or in Spencer’s reading chair, or one time when you were the only two on the jet. This—making out in his bed—it felt different somehow.

Coming back up for air, you looked up at Spencer, a giggle escaping your throat as you tried to meet his eyes. “Oops,” you said, his glasses had fogged up while you were kissing, so you leaned back while he took them off, resting them on his nightstand.

Spencer rested his hands on your hips, his thumbs gently massaging over your hip bones as you studied his expression, “Honey,” he said, suddenly serious, “I want you to know that I didn’t invite you to spend the night with this in mine.”

He was drawing the same conclusions as you, but still, you looked at him doubtfully, “Do you mean to tell me that the prospect of sex didn’t even cross your mind when it came to inviting me to spend the night?”

A soft pink bloomed across his cheeks, you found yourself wanting to kiss them, “Okay, maybe it occurred to me that we might find ourselves in this position.”

You straightened up slightly, “So, I trust you have a condom.”

Nodding, Spencer reached a hand up and smoothed your hair back with the kind of tenderness that made you want to cry. “I do, but we don’t have to have sex tonight, okay?”

“But I want to,” you responded, maybe a tad too quickly. Your face warms, “I mean… I’d like to. If you want to.” With an air of finality, you leaned forward and pressed your lips to his, one of your hands found a home in his hair while the other rested on his collarbone.

As if on cue, the phone started to ring. An incessant blare designed to wake you up in case you were being called in in the middle of the night. Spencer chuckled as you dramatically dragged yourself off of his lap and dug through your bag for your phone.

If it were Penelope or Hotch, you’d answer without a second thought, but the caller ID showed your sister on the other line. You declined the call, texting her an excuse before leaving your phone on the nightstand.

Spencer dragged his fingertips down your arm, “Who was it?”

“JJ,” you told him leaning back over his torso and pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth, “I’ll call her back later,” you continued, kissing the other corner of his mouth.

He hummed in response, settling his hands on your waist, “Tomorrow?” He proposed, gently guiding your back to the bed.

Nodding, you looked up at him, “Tomorrow,” you confirmed, sighing contently as your legs fell open, giving him the room he needed to rest his body between them. You’d never felt so at ease in bed with someone, no one had ever touched you so carefully before.

“Good,” he whispered against your lips, gently parting them with his own as you looped your arms over his shoulders, “Hold on,” he said, pulling back and climbing off of the bed.

Your eyes followed him intently as he stopped in front of his go bag, unzipping the side pouch and pulling out a familiar-looking box. “You’ve been keeping condoms in your go bag?” Your question is succeeded by a fit of giggles, any nervousness disappearing at the realization that Spencer’s been carrying contraception with him all day.

Rolling his eyes, Spencer lobbed the box at you, but you were still laughing too hard to be bothered by the lightweight box hitting your arm. “Excuse me for wanting to be prepared,” he teased back, climbing up on the bed and finding a spot right next to you.

“No, you’re right,” you said, continuing to giggle despite your best attempts to stop. “Okay, I’m sorry, let me put on my serious face,” you pressed your lips together in a thin line, holding them together with your teeth as you tried to stop any giggles from escaping. “You would make a great boy scout,” you told him, failing to keep a straight face.

Sighing, Spencer kissed your smiling lips, giving you a soft peck between every word he said.

“You’re.”

Kiss.

“So.”

Kiss.

“Cute.”

By the final kiss, you’re ready to ascend into the heavens. Knowing you can die happy because you’ve known what it’s like to love him. You’re not even worried about the fact that he chose to call you cute as opposed to hot or sexy. Spencer’s never let you consider the idea of being someone other than who you are.

“I love you,” you whispered, looking at him as he positioned himself between your legs again, taking your lower lip between your teeth because this time you could feel his length. Even through three layers of fabric, his hardness pressed against your core in a way that made your head spin.

Spencer hummed, “I love you too.” His tone was careful as his hands slipped up your sweatshirt, a totem to show where the two of you started and where you are now. His fingers wandered over your skin, an exploration of your body as the hem of the sweatshirt started riding up your waist, “your heart is racing.”

You sat up, trying to encourage him to take your sweater off, “You have that effect on me.” You took a deep breath as he followed your cue and pulled your sweatshirt over your head, once he tossed it to the hamper, you pushed at his t-shirt, whipping it off his body without a care in the world.

He was just looking at you, just studying you in the way someone would look at a piece of art. Feeling encouraged, you reached back to unclasp your bra, letting the fabric fall off of your chest before dropping it just off the side of the bed. “Pretty,” he breathed, leaning forward to kiss you again, his lips making their way along your jawline, along the column of your throat, and just below your collarbones. “Pretty, pretty girl,” he murmured, rendered uncharacteristically at a loss for words at the sight of you topless.

You gasped as his lips attached themselves to your chest, sucking at the soft skin and leaving little love bites behind. He moved his hand to gain better balance, leaving one at the side of your head, “Ow, Spence,” you yelped.

Spencer’s head snapped up, “Are you okay?” He asked, more fear in his voice than was strictly necessary for the issue.

“Your hand is on my hair,” you said, moving your hair behind your head when he instantly moved his hand.

He dropped a kiss to your forehead, oddly domestic for the state of undress you were in, “I’m sorry, honey.”

You shook your head, “It’s okay, c’mere,” you whispered, placing your hand on the back of his head and guiding his lips to yours. Slowly, you extend your free arm between your bodies, slipping your hand between the elastic of his briefs and his stomach, wrapping your hand around his shaft.

He moaned into your mouth at the contact, his lips faltering against yours as you ran your thumb over the tip, gathered his precum on your finger, and withdrew your hand, bringing your hand up to your separated mouths and sucking the liquid off of your thumb. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he groaned, reattaching his lips to your neck, bringing his lips further down your chest until he took your nipple in his mouth, nipping at it gently with his teeth while his fingers wandered up to play with your other breast, massaging the flesh.

“Oh,” you breathed, looking up at the ceiling fan and trying to stop your hips from bucking up as his mouth separated from your breast with a wet pop, his hand skimming down your torso and stopping just above the hem of your underwear, looking to you for permission before he exposed your core.

Slowly, he hooked his fingers in the sides of your panties and dragged them down your legs, leaving them on the mattress for you to find easily as he pushed your knees apart. His hand made its way to your pussy, fingers dragging lazily up and down your slit, “Is this okay?”

Nodding, “Yeah,” you answered, bracing yourself for the intrusion of his fingers, but you were surprised when it didn’t come yet. Instead, his index finger pressed gently against your clit, softly rubbing at the bundle of nerves, trying to prepare you. A soft whine escaped your lips at the sight, “Will you kiss me?” You asked, your eyes wide and pleading with him.

Obliging your wishes, he left his hand in its place while he pressed his lips against yours, you slid your tongue into his mouth, running the tip of it along his bottom lip. You moaned into his mouth as he played with your clit, need growing in your core as his fingers moved.

“Ah,” you gasped against his mouth when he slipped a finger into your hole, separating your lips while you tipped your head back against the pillows. “Oh, wow,” you breathed at the feeling of him knuckle-deep in you, his finger remaining still while you adjusted to the intrusion.

Spencer hummed, bringing his head back down and resting it on your tummy while he curled his fingers in your cunt. You brought your hands down to rest on his head, tugging at his hair while he started to thrust his finger in and out of you, wet squelching sounds emanating from your core as he did.

A moan was ripped from your throat when he added another finger to the mix, stretching your pussy even further while you felt your walls contract around his hand. “Spence,” you breathed, moaning again at the sensations that were coursing through your body, “Spence, baby.”

He tore his eyes away, looking up at you while his hand slowed slightly—just in case, “What do you need, honey?”

Honey. The sweet pet name plucked at your heartstrings as you propped yourself up on your elbows, “I’m— Can we...?” You started, not sure how to proposition him. Can we have sex? Seemed like too little too late. Will you make love to me? Made you want to throw up in your mouth a little bit. “Will you fuck me?” Was what you settled on, albeit a bit crude, but it was your best option at the time.

He withdrew his fingers from your cunt, eliciting a whimper from you at the emptiness, he reached over for the box of condoms that he had previously thrown at you, handing the box to you so he could shed his boxer briefs.

Staring at the way his cock stood at attention, you considered wrapping your mouth around him, just for a moment, but Spencer didn’t seem interested in anything other than doing what you’d asked of him. Instead, you reached out your hand and wrapped your fingers around the base. He was already plenty hard, but you felt the need to reciprocate pleasure, which is why you were surprised when he moved your hand before you could even start.

“It’s okay,” he reassured you, and you nodded a response, telling yourself you’d remember to return the favor in the future. Maybe in the morning.

Handing him a lavender packet, you watched as he carefully tore the package open, pinching the tip and rolling the condom over himself. “Is this good?” You asked, lying on your back as you watched him settle back between your legs, your breath hitched as his cock lined up with your entrance.

Spencer nodded, “You’re perfect. I’ll go slow, okay?” He rubbed at your thigh comfortingly, waiting for you to give him another okay before he started pushing into you. Between your wetness and the added lubrication of the condom, he slid in with little resistance, but he took it slowly, just like he had promised.

He watched you the whole time with the knowledge that you hadn’t had sex in years, the last thing he’d want to do was cause you any pain.

Once he was fully sheathed in you, you buried your face in his neck, pressing little kisses to his soft skin as you focused on anything other than the pressure in your core.

“I’m okay,” you whispered, he didn’t even have to ask you for the reassurance. “I’m— fuck,” you cried out, unable to help the way your walls tightened around his cock. “You can move,” you told him, your voice muffled against his neck.

He inhaled sharply as he pulled his hips from yours before slowly pressing them back together, “I love you.”

You nodded, “I love you too,” you murmured, muffling your moans in his neck as a courtesy to his neighbors, unable to control them as his tentative thrusts turned into a steady rhythm. Carefully thrusting into you while he moved one of his hands up, intertwining your fingers with his at the side of your head—minding his hand placement.

Hooking your ankles together behind his back, you squeezed his hand at the same time as your cunt clenched around his length. He continued fucking into you, pushing your legs open even further until he hit a spot inside of you that made you see stars.

“Spence,” you cried out, trying to warn him about your impending orgasm before it washed over you. Your walls uncontrollably clenched around him as you fully muffled yourself against him, soft squeaks escaping your mouth as he kept going, the pulsating of your pussy driving him even closer to his own orgasm.

His hips stuttered in their movements as you pulled your face from his neck, breathing the cool air as Spencer spilled his cum into the condom. His head drooped, pressing soft kisses to your collarbone as the both of you caught your breath. “I’m gonna pull out,” he warned you, carefully slipping his softened cock from your hole.

A slight panic came over you as you felt tears well up in your eyes faster than you could process them, hiccupping for air as they fell down into your hairline.

That got Spencer’s attention, lifting himself and looking at you, “Hey,” his voice was so soft, “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

Bordering on babbling, you shook your head, “No, I’m fine,” you cried, more tears falling from your face. “I don’t even know why ‘m crying,” you told him, resting a hand on your chest.

“Shh, hey,” Spencer cooed, “You’re okay, I’ve got you.” Gingerly, he laid down on his back and pulled you into him, letting you rest your head on his chest as he smoothed your hair back comfortingly. “There are just a lot of emotions going through you right now, and that’s okay,” he whispered. “You’re safe with me.”

You nodded slowly, “I’m sorry,” you whimpered, having ruined a perfect first time by bursting into tears immediately after.

Spencer pressed a tentative kiss to your hairline, “It’s okay, there’s no need to be sorry. It’s completely normal,” he murmured, one hand in your hair and the other rubbing circles on your back. “You’re alright. Hey, it’s called post-coital dysphoria, and it happens to about forty-six percent of people,” he told you.

Despite yourself, you gave a breathy laugh, “I feel like you’re making that up so I’ll feel better.” You sniffled, wiping at your eyes with your fingers.

“It’s a real thing, I promise,” he reassured you, continuing to comfort you until tears stopped falling. “Hey, what do you say we get cleaned up and we can watch something in bed.”

You hummed in response, “You don’t like screens in your room, you say it messes with your REM sleep.”

“It does mess with your REM sleep, but I’d be willing to make an exception for you tonight,” he said, smiling softly when you lifted your head from his chest. “Come on, honey. I’ve got you.”

[heavyhitterheaux]

Daughter (Slight NSFW)

They keep sayin' that I ain't nothin' like my father

But I'm the furthest thing from choir boys and altars

If you cross me, I'm just like my father

I am colder than Titanic water

Synopsis: You and Joe's relationship is fairly new, and you are taken by surprise when a pregnancy test comes up positive. However, your boyfriend's reaction was the opposite of what you expected. Especially when he has just signed his five year contract extension which is now the highest in the NFL

Pairing: Boyfriend!Joe Burrow x Girlfriend!Reader

Requested by: a beautiful anon 😘

Do not engage if you are underage

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

Soft kisses being placed across your shoulder blade had pulled you out of a deep sleep and you noticed that the sun was barely making itself known as you wrapped the comforter tighter around you to keep in all of the warmth that you possibly could.

You shut your eyes once more, but then you suddenly heard his voice.

“Baby doll, you awake?” You heard your boyfriend ask you as you felt his fingertips now dancing across your skin.

You opened your eyes and once again had to adjust to the light before answering him.

“I am now.” You quietly said as you heard him laugh.

“Good, turn around so I can see your pretty face.”

Moving your body from facing one side to the other, Joe's face came into view who gave you a sleepy grin when he finally laid his eyes on you.

“A sight I never get tired of waking up to.” As soon as those words left his mouth, you gave him the biggest eye roll possible which made him erupt with laughter once more.

“Joey, I look like a hot ass mess. It's okay though so there's no need to lie to me. We are building this relationship on a foundation of trust.”

“I'm not lying. My girlfriend is gorgeous all the time.”

“Hmm, funny. My hair is literally sticking up all over my head because I once again forgot to pack my bonnet, I have bags under my eyes from not getting enough sleep, and…”

Joe simply cut you off by placing a soft kiss on your lips.

“You need to learn how to just take compliments and stop trying to defend them.” He told you and your response was a simple shrug.

“Maybe one day, but today is not that day. So as I was saying..” You began to speak, but Joe promptly cut you off.

“Wouldn't tell you that you're the prettiest girl I ever laid eyes on if it wasn't true.” He told you and you couldn't help but to finally give him a small smile.

“Is that a smile that I see?” He asked as you then scrunched your nose up at him.

“Hmph, not anymore.”

“I never thought I would meet my match when it comes to someone who acts more like Squidward than I do.”

“Patrick is my favorite though.”

“That's surprising for sure seeing as it doesn't seem that you would have a lot of patience to deal with him.” He said as he pulled you closer to him.

“I make exceptions sometimes. For example, I said yes to going out on a date with you.”

“BABY!”

“Just kidding, babe!” You told him as you pinched his cheek and he promptly rolled his eyes at you.

“And it didn't have to do with me being the hottest quarterback in the NFL?” He asked while smirking.

“No, you know that I could care less about that and what your job is. It just happens to be a plus and a perk of dating you.” You told him being completely honest.

It was quiet for a few seconds as the two of you stared at each other when you finally broke it.

“Are you excited for training camp?”

“Yes and no. Yes because I'm excited to get back out there of course and no because I'm not going to be able to spend as much time with you.”

The relationship was fairly new being months old and Joe wanted to spend as much time as possible with you before football took over once more. You were always excited for football season, but even more so now that you had a significant other that played in the NFL.

“Joey, it's your job so I understand. I'm so proud of you and want you to be focused so that you are able to do your absolute best. I'll still be here cheering you on. I promise.” You told him as you brushed a hand through his hair and kissed the tip of his nose.

“I can't wait to be able to look up in my suite at the stadium and see you in there.”

“I can't either. I haven't been to a Bengals game in a while.”

“Even though your dad is a season ticket holder?”

Your dad had been a season ticket holder since before you were born seeing as your grandfather passed it to him. Being a single father to you wasn’t easy in the slightest but the love of football was something that the two of you bonded over.

“Yes, even that. Ever since I became a chef and opened my restaurant, it's been a lot harder. I just have to find more people that I can trust to keep it up and running so that I'm able to come and see you play. That way I'll be able to give you my undivided attention and not have any worries lingering in the back of my mind.”

“You act as if Kendall can’t do it. She could literally run the restaurant blindfolded.” Joe responded as he was referring to your best friend that you had met in culinary school.

The two of you had met when Joe, Tee, Sam, and Ja'Marr wanted to try a new upscale restaurant in the middle of downtown Cincinnati during the beginning of the off season. It was near closing time when Ja'Marr had asked to meet the head chef; the head chef being you to give his compliments personally. Your eyes as well as Joe's had locked that night and the two of you had been infatuated with each other since. It honestly felt like a lifetime ago and not a few months.

“I know she can and I have to give her more credit. On the other hand, I've definitely been spoiled with it being the off-season and being able to spend as much time with you as I want with you also coming to see me at work.” You told him as he smiled.

As soon as you two had met, Joe would be at the restaurant a few times a week and eventually asked for your number one night. Of course you had told him yes and he found himself coming to visit if he wasn’t doing anything else. He always had a specific table that he sat at and would let you know when he was coming to see you so that they could reserve it for him. It was on the second level that looked out over the balcony.

“What time are you going in today?” He asked as he noticed that it was barely seven in the morning.

“I probably should have already left since it'll take me a little longer to get there.” You said as you made an attempt to get up, but Joe quickly pulled you back.

Your condo was closer to the restaurant and staying with Joe added close to another 25 minutes.

“Joeyyyy!”

“Can I have you for at least another hour or so? The restaurant doesn't even open until 4.”

“But I have to prep!”

“Babe, please?” He asked as he started to give you puppy dog eyes.

“No! Don’t you dare give me that look!” You scolded him and at the same time he laid you on your back as he climbed on top of you.

“Please?” He asked again as he gave you a light kiss on your lips and started placing a trail of kisses down your already bare body from the activities from the night before.

His fingers lightly brushed your folds and your hips bucked in response making a light chuckle escape from his lips.

“You sure you don't want to stay? Your body is telling me otherwise.” He asked as he inserted two fingers and slowly began moving them in and out of you.

“Baby…”

“Hmm, one round or two? Knowing you, you're going to tell me one and then change your mind when you remember how good I make you feel.”

Joe didn’t wait for you to answer him as he settled himself in between your legs and added his tongue to pleasure you without his fingers leaving your body.

In order to keep your legs spread and to also keep you from running from, he removed his fingers from you to keep a tight hold on both of your legs as his mouth continued to pleasure you.

“Shiiit, oh my gosh.” Was the only sentence that you could form as both of your hands found a way into his hair.

Joe was the first boyfriend that you ever had that actually took the time to pleasure you and always made sure you had multiple orgasms before he even had one. He had always told you that his favorite thing was to eat you out because of the way you taste. If it was honestly left up to him, he would stay between your legs for hours.

“Keep still, baby.” Joe told you as he then began to suck on your clit.

“How am I supposed to keep still when you do that!?” You exclaimed as he was still holding you in place. The vibration from his laugh was felt as he sucked harder.

“I'm… Oh FUCK!” You yelled and before you were able to get your entire sentence out, you squirted all over Joe's face as he continued sucking on your clit no matter how hard you tried to move away from him.

“Nope, where do you think you’re going?” He asked as he continued to eat you out.

“Give me at least one more and I'll think about letting you move.”

“You are such an ass!” You told him while playfully hitting his shoulder.

“Hmm, is that what you tell your boyfriend as he's eating you out and making you feel good?”

“Yes! Because he won’t let my legs go!”

“Hmm, so you can fall off this high ass bed? I think not. Come on baby doll, one more. My pretty baby can give me one more.”

Keeping him talking gave you a little bit of a break, but that soon went back out the window as he dove back in and gave you his undivided attention once more.

You were starting to squirm and tears were threatening to leave your eyes as another orgasm washed over you. Joe finally stopped to come up for air, but before he did he lightly placed kisses on both of your thighs before climbing back up your body and leaning down to kiss you.

“I knew you could do it. Such a good girl.”

“And you’re still an ass for that.”

“I’ll be that because later on in the day once you leave here and you’re thinking about me because I know it's going to happen. You'll think about me being between your thighs and then the first thing you’re going to do is tell me how wet that made you and how much you want me to make you cum over and over and over again.” He told you as he whispered against your lips before kissing them.

“Am I wrong?” He asked and you shook your head no as another smirk came across his face.

“But for now, I can settle for this.” He told you as he lined up with your entrance and then suddenly stopped.

“Babe?”

“I forgot to go to the store so I don’t have any more condoms. Shit, I forgot about that. But if you’re okay with it?” He asked, searching your eyes for approval.

“I’m okay with it. Gives me a chance to feel all of you.” You answered without skipping a beat.

“You sure you’re ready for that?” He asked while smirking.

“If I wasn’t sure then I wouldn’t have said yes to begin with.”

Nodding in approval, Joe slowly entered you until he bottomed out and you both moaned at the sensation. Feeling every bit of him was going to put you over the edge and the last thing on your mind was the fact that you would learn to regret it later.

—

Training camp was now coming to a close and pre-season games were due to start as you and Joe were on facetime. He had sent you a text earlier in the day saying that he had something he wanted to tell you later on when he got back home. The anticipation had been building all day and you were growing annoyed with him still keeping you in suspense.

“Babe, out with it already.” You told him as you were laying down with multiple pillows propped up underneath you. You hadn’t felt well for the past week and a half and simply blamed it on the stomach bug that you knew that had been going around. You had left Kendall in charge of everything while you stayed home to rest with her periodically checking on you.

“So, the final negotiation went well for my contract.” He started to say and you instantly smiled.

“Oh, that’s right because your rookie contract is over. I forgot that you had to do that this year. Do you feel that you’re happy with the decision that they came up with?” You asked as you took a sip of ginger ale.

“Definitely happy with the decision. Once it’s signed, It’ll be the biggest contract for a quarterback as well as in the history of the NFL.”

“Oh my gosh, that’s so exciting and you definitely deserve it. I see all the hard work that you’ve been putting in and it is definitely paying off. I’m not feeling all that great, but I promise to make you a celebratory dinner so that we can celebrate properly. I am literally so proud of you!”

“Thank you baby doll. Means a lot coming from you.”

“Always going to be here to support you as long as you want me.” You told him as he smiled.

“I want you for the long run, you already know this and besides you’re the celebrity in my eyes anyway. Who would have thought a celebrity chef would go out with little old me who just happens to be a quarterback in the NFL in his spare time?” He asked as you softly laughed. Any intense movement would instantly make your stomach hurt or make you want to throw up.

“You are too much sometimes and so incredibly dramatic.” You told him as you playfully rolled your eyes.

“You’ve literally known this since day one and it hasn’t been a problem so why start now?” He asked as you saw him prop up his phone and move around in the kitchen.

“I feel so bad that I can’t make you anything tonight.” You sadly said as Joe brushed you off, but a look of concern immediately spread across his face.

“Do you still not feel well? Babe, it’s been almost two weeks.”

“I know and I have a doctor’s appointment at the end of the week on Friday. Hopefully they’ll be able to tell me what’s going on because I am so miserable right now.

“Just let me know what they say. I’m going to actually sign the contract that day. So later that night, we can celebrate.”

“Yes, that’ll be the perfect day to make dinner for you. Do you have any special requests?” You curiously asked and Joe answered you without a second thought.

“Hmm, yeah. I’ll just have you for my dinner and my dessert.”

“Joeyyy, I meant actual food. You cannot just eat me out and think that is sufficient enough for you to survive.”

“Says who?” He asked as he took a drink out of the water bottle that he just opened.

“I have no idea what I’m going to do with you.” You told him as you were smiling at him.

“But on a serious note, do you need me to bring you anything? You definitely don’t look like your normal self.”

“I promise that I’m okay. I just have to ride it out and wait for it to pass, no big deal.”

“The minute something changes, you call me. Promise?”

“I promise. The last thing I want is for you to come around me and end up getting sick yourself. Stay away until I give you the all clear on Friday.”

“As hard as I know that will be, I have no choice so I guess I’ll listen to you. The last thing I need is to get sick right before the season starts.”

“Exactly. Have to keep you as healthy as possible.” You told him as you glanced at the clock in your room to see that it was around eight at night.

“I’m going to try and get some sleep since I literally have been puking my guts out every morning for a week and a half straight.” You told Joe who gave you a sympathetic look.

“Go ahead and go to sleep. Just leave your phone on facetime.”

“So you can be a creep and watch me sleep, Burrow?”

“I literally always watch you sleep when you stay with me so this is no different. You just aren’t next to me. I always do it to make sure you’re okay.”

“You are too sweet. One of the many things I love about you.”

“Hmm, so I’m melting that cold ass ice box of a heart you have? Is Y/N showing FEELINGS?!” He playfully teased you as you shook your head.

Joe knew from the beginning how independent you were and that you didn’t need a man to depend on for anything. You can give your father credit for raising you that way. You could fix things around the house, change a tire, change the oil in your car and that wasn’t even the tip of the iceberg. If there was something you wanted or needed, you would stop at nothing in order to make it happen. Even though you were infatuated with Joe ever since you laid eyes on him, you let him know upfront. One thing that Joe admired about you was your will to be independent. Although, he did want to spoil you from time to time.

“You’re slowly melting it, I think you’ve made it about 25%.”

“Only 25%?!?! Seriously?! You have got to give me more credit than that.”

“Hmm, maybe 35% because of how good you eat me out.”

“WHAT? That by itself should equal 1000%!” Joe exclaimed and you had gotten comfortable under the covers.

“Well you are melting it, so just be happy about that. You're the first one to do it in a very long time.”

“I am now close your eyes and go to sleep.”

“You promise to stay on the phone and make sure I’m okay?” You asked and a small smile spread across his face before nodding at you.

“I promise.”

Friday had finally come around and you were now on your way to Joe’s house to celebrate him signing his new contract. However, there was something now hanging over your head. You were uneasy because of the news that you had to share with him and honestly couldn’t believe it yourself.

You stayed in the parking lot at the doctor's office for an extra 45 minutes before you even thought about moving your car.

It wasn’t a simple stomach bug that you had been dealing with for two weeks, it was an entire human being growing inside of you and them trying to make you aware of their presence. The signs had all been there and it wasn’t until your doctor wanted you to do a pregnancy test that the dots were finally starting to connect.

Your period was late and it had never been late in your entire life

Your boobs were sore

Just about everything made you nauseous and being a chef hadn't been working out for you for these past two weeks

You would throw up every morning like clockwork and then be fine for the rest of the day

The looks of shock and disbelief hadn’t left your face since you had departed from your doctor’s appointment and your mind was racing a mile a minute. The relationship between you and Joe had barely gotten off of the ground and the last thing that you wanted to add to that was an entire child that you had no idea if he would even want.

But you had to be honest with him.

For the short time that you had known him, Joe was an amazing person that you saw being in your life for the long run and he was one person that you wouldn’t mind fathering your kids because you knew that he cared about your well-being so you could imagine that he would care about theirs too.

You figured that you had to tell him when you got there because if something was off, he immediately knew and could read you like a book. The hardest thing at the current moment was for you not to break down crying.

Joe asked for you to make a simple dish that you made all the time, chicken and broccoli alfredo. Except for him, you would substitute regular noodles for protein pasta so that he would meet his goal for the day. You had started to feel a little bit better yesterday so you had gone to the store and dropped the ingredients off at Joe’s house so you didn’t have to worry about bringing them with you after your doctor’s appointment.

Parking your car next to Joe’s Porsche, you placed your purse on your shoulder before getting out and making your way to the front door. Pulling out your key that he had given you, you opened it and quickly turned the knob before making your way inside.

Stepping across the threshold, it was quiet except for the television that you could hear in the living room and to no surprise it was playing Spongebob which you had to laugh at. That was one of the first things that you and Joe had bonded over.

As you walked further into the house and made your way into the living room, your boyfriend caught your eye as he was asleep on the couch and you assumed that he had been waiting for you. He looked peaceful and the last thing you wanted to do was disturb him so instead you placed a kiss on his forehead before setting your purse down and making your way into the kitchen to start on the dinner that he requested.

Not wanting to work in silence, you put one of your air pods in your ear and turned on your Kendrick Lamar playlist as you started to move around the kitchen. The decision to only put one in was to be able to hear Joe when he started to stir.

About twenty minutes later, dinner was already halfway done when you heard footsteps entering the kitchen. You turned around from the stove to be met with the sight of your sleepy boyfriend rubbing his eyes as he made his way over to you to place you in a hug and placed several kisses on both of your cheeks.

“Hi, sleepy head. About time you woke up.”

“How long have you been here?” He asked as he kissed you once more.

“Probably thirty minutes give or take. Luckily you chose something that was quick and easy. We probably have about fifteen more minutes. I just have to pour the sauce on the pasta and put the garlic bread in the oven.”

Joe nodded as he left his arms wrapped around you and you quickly squeezed him tighter, hoping that by the end of the night it wouldn’t be the last time that you got to do so.

“How did your appointment go?” He asked as he finally let you go so you could finish cooking.

“Um, not what I expected.” You quietly said as you had now turned around to face the stove leaving you facing away from him.

“Baby, is everything okay? You saying that has me worried.” Joe replied as he turned you around once more to face him.

“I… I just don’t know how you’re going to take this.”

“Take what? Are you sick? Whatever it is, we’ll get through it together, just tell me.” Joe told you as he held onto both of your hands.

Taking a deep breath, you blurted it out.

“It wasn’t a stomach bug like I thought, I’m pregnant.”

As soon as those words left your mouth, Joe’s hands immediately detached from yours.

“What do you mean you’re pregnant?”

“When you have sex multiple times without a condom, these things tend to happen.” You said trying to make light of the situation, but Joe did not look amused in the slightest.

It was quiet for a few minutes and it was you who had to break the silence.

“Joey?” You said and he sighed before pinching the bridge of his nose and responding to you.

“So, was this your plan all along? To trap me?” Joe asked you and the expression that appeared on your face was unreadable to him.

It took everything in you to not cuss him out right then and there.

“Hmm funny. You're the one who didn't bother to wear a condom the last few times we had sex. And I know that you cannot be serious.” Was your response as you crossed your arms over your chest.

“What's also funny is that you said you were okay with it. I obviously wouldn't have done it if you weren't. So it just so happens I signed the biggest contract for a quarterback in NFL history and suddenly my girlfriend of four months is now pregnant? And I am being fucking serious.”

“Are you calling me a gold digger? Because that's what it sounds like.”

“You said it, not me.” He told you as he held his hands up in defense.

“What do I need your money for when I have my own? You act like I don’t even have a career. Did you forget that I own my own restaurant?”

“You obviously don't have nearly as much as I do.”

“You are literally unbelievable right now. You're acting as if this is entirely my fault when it was both of us.” You exclaimed and he continued to look at you with a straight face.

“I'm at the height of my career and the last thing I need is a kid with someone I barely even know.”

Your heart dropped hearing how he talked about you, but especially that last statement and did your best to keep a straight face when in reality hearing something like that would probably make tears fall from your eyes.

The thought that he would be surprised, but also supportive of you had now gone out of the window.

“Well it's a good thing that this relationship is no more isn't it? So you won't have to worry about it anymore.” You said to Joe as you made your way to the living room and took the key to his house off of your keychain and handed it to him while you threw your purse over your shoulder.

He watched as you walked away from him and started to open the front door when you turned back to look at him.

“Remember everything that you said to me because I know it's going to come back to haunt you and you'll end up regretting it. And by the type of person I am, you know that I do not forgive easily or at all.”

“I highly doubt that.”

Hearing his reply, you had to laugh to yourself because at this point in time you knew that he would come crawling back to you sooner or later. His conscience would eat away at him and he would start to feel guilty. Even if you had only known him for a matter of months, deep down he was a good person that always tried to do right by others although he wasn’t displaying that now towards you.

“Just remember I told you so. I never needed you before and I sure as hell won't need you in the future. The difference was that I wanted you simply for you and not your money. Good luck finding someone who valued you as much as I did.”

Slamming the door behind you, once you got into your car and put on your seatbelt, you picked up your phone that you had thrown on the passenger seat and proceeded to block Joe's number.

If he didn't want to be in your child's life, the last thing you were about to do was beg. You made it up in your mind that the two of you were going to be fine with or without him.

The regret of it all was going to hit him like a ton of bricks.

—

A month and a half had gone by and you put all of your focus and energy into the restaurant and spent time reading pregnancy books that were highly recommended especially for first time mothers.

Reading what was currently going on in your body had you scared shitless, but you were determined to make it through this one step at a time. Only person that you could depend on now was yourself.

After blocking Joe’s number, you had also blocked him on all of your social media accounts wanting absolutely nothing to do with him. You went as far as also blocking Ja’Marr, Tee, Sam, and Andrei who would frequently come with him to your restaurant wanting no ties to anyone associated with him.

Plenty of people at the restaurant asked where Joe was, but you couldn't bring yourself to tell them that you had unfortunately broken up, especially one of your favorite hostesses Blanca. She had been obsessed with you and Joe and thought that the two of you looked good together.

I mean from your perspective, the two of you definitely weren't together anymore although when you had originally said it, Joe didn't even bother to react. Because you hadn't told them anything, they always kept his table open unless you told them otherwise. One of these days you were going to get around to banning him completely even if that did seem a little extreme. But on the other hand, he had hurt you and that particular reason was enough.

It was getting harder to hide the bump that was now as obvious as it gets and getting a larger size in a chef uniform every single time your belly grew was getting annoying. So you opted to actually wear sweatshirts as long as it wasn't too hot in the kitchen. If it did get hot, you made sure to have an extra large shirt underneath which left people a little confused but attributed it to simply being your comfort level.

The morning sickness was at an all time high today even though you were well past the time frame of still having it. You made a note in the back of your mind to say something at your next doctor’s appointment. Because of this, the ultimate decision was made for you to stay home, but promised your dad nonetheless that you would make dinner for him since he had gotten a promotion at his job. You wanted to celebrate him properly since you knew how hard he had worked for it.

The food was almost done as you heard the doorbell ring and smiled to yourself because you were excited to be able to finally catch up with your dad. Once you wiped your hands on your apron and walked to the front door to open it, you were caught off guard with your dad placing you in a bone crushing hug with you tightly hugging him back. You knew you had to tell him before the night was over. Once again you were wearing a baggy shirt that hid how big your belly had actually gotten.

“Daddy!” You exclaimed as your eyes met his.

“Hey, pumpkin!”

Once he placed you back on the ground, you moved to the side in order for him to be able to get through the front door. Once you did he followed you into the kitchen and took a seat at the island.

“So, when are you moving into your corner office?” You asked as you poured a glass of red wine and placed it in front of him. It was your favorite brand and it was hard for you to not also pour a glass for yourself.

“On Monday but I already moved a few things over. It's amazing how much you can accumulate over the years.” Your dad answered, but you lowkey knew that he was a hoarder. But being a single dad, you couldn't blame him. Everything little thing counted.

“I am literally so proud of you but it sounds like you could stand to do a little deep cleaning.” Every time you went over to his house, you made it a mission to throw something away without him noticing. So far you had been successful, doing it since you had turned eighteen.

“I never know when I might need something from my stash so I have to be prepared. I told you that hard work pays off but you're definitely no stranger to that. How's the restaurant doing?” He asked as he took a sip.

“Really good. I'm working on debuting our updated Fall menu in the next week or so. The main one already came out.”

“Please tell me you're bringing back the cinnamon apple spice rolls.”

“Of course I am since I know that they're your favorite.”

It took a minute, but your dad caught onto you not drinking any wine and he knew that particular brand that you had given him was your favorite making him look at you in confusion.

“You're not going to get a glass for yourself? Oh, how's Joe by the way? I feel like it's been a minute since you mentioned him. Let me know which Sunday you're free so we can go to a game together.”

“No wine for me tonight and I actually wouldn't know how he's doing because we aren't together anymore.”

“What? Since when? I thought you really liked him. And that's saying something because you hardly like anyone.”

Taking a deep sigh, you turned back to your dad and he could tell by the expression on your face that something was wrong.

“I'm pregnant and Joe wants nothing to do with the baby. After I told him we got into an argument about it, I left his house and immediately blocked him.”

Your father looked at you in disbelief before any words left his mouth.

“What? How could…?”

“He thought it was really interesting how I turned up pregnant when he had just signed his new contract. We got into an argument, he called me a gold digger and I left. Blocked his number as soon as I slammed the door behind me. Gave him back his house key too.”

“Pumpkin…”

“Dad, no. I'm doing this by myself and we're going to be fine.” You told him since you knew the first thing he was going to do was worry himself over it.

“I didn't want this for you. Single parent life. I was hoping that you would get married to someone who loved you for you before you had children.”

“It didn't quite work out that way, but like I said it'll be fine.”

“I need to talk to him so he can get some sense knocked into him. You mean to tell me he had no problem not wearing a condom, but runs for the hills the second you come up pregnant? Really?” You knew your dad was going to protect you at all costs and knew that you had to keep him as far away from Joe as possible.

“No you don't. I don't need him and my baby doesn't need him either. He made his choice and he has to be the one to deal with it.”

“Whatever decision you make, I'm going to support you 100%.”

“Thanks, dad. I appreciate you saying that.” You told him as you set his plate in front of him.

“It's been us against the world since you were born so this isn’t any different. That baby will grow up in a household full of love and won't even notice that someone is missing from their life because they aren't going to want for anything.”

Your mom had literally snuck out of the hospital without being discharged hours after you were born leaving you in a bassinet in her designated hospital room where she was supposed to be recovering. She had left while your dad had stepped out to get her some food since she didn't like the food that they served in the hospital.

No one had seen her since.

Over the years you noticed that your dad wouldn't really talk about her so the most that you knew was her name. There was never a desire to find her since you had it in your mind that she didn't want anything to do with you and those feelings are reciprocated right back towards her.

When your dad had gotten back to the hospital, everyone was frantic and she had never given any inkling that she didn't want to keep you so he was just as confused as everyone else. From that moment forward, your dad made it up in his mind to give you the best life possible and to keep her away from you.

“You taught me not to depend on a man for anything. Or anyone else for that matter.”

“Pumpkin, this situation is a little different…”

“No, it isn't. If he doesn't want to take care of his responsibilities then so be it.”

Hearing your dad sigh as he stabbed his fork into his mashed potatoes, he nodded his head at you.

“So, have we decided on any names yet?”

“Not yet, but I have a very strong feeling that the baby is a girl.”

—

It was a dreary day in Cincinnati when practice had come to a close for the Bengals and Joe was walking back towards the locker room in order to get ready for his presser when Ja’Marr stopped him and pulled him to the side.

“Bro, what is wrong with you? And don’t you dare stand up here and lie to me. I know when something is off with my best friend.”

Ja’Marr had noticed despite Joe’s efforts to remain his nonchalant self, something was eating away at him. He noticed in the pre-season and just assumed he was trying to get back in the groove of things, but as time went on he felt that something was off and wasn’t getting better.

“Nothing is wrong.”

“Bullshit and I’m about to call your mom if you keep lying. I’m due for a bowl of snickers salad anyway.”

Taking a deep sigh, Joe threw his helmet down on the ground before responding which left Ja’Marr a little confused.

“Uh?”

“Y/N is pregnant.”

“Oh! Congratulations. Is that why you’re so damn stressed? I mean I get it. When my girlfriend told me she was pregnant, I think I went into shock for a few days.” He told him as he picked up his helmet for him and he tried to continue walking before Joe pulled him back.

“That’s not all.”

“Oh…”

“She told me this about two months ago when she had been feeling sick for about two weeks and I told her to make a doctor’s appointment. It just so happened to be on the day that I signed my new contract when she told me about her being pregnant. In not so many words, I dismissed her and dismissed the thought of her being pregnant seeing as we had only been together for four months at the time.”

“But, you apologized though, right? I’m trying to go to her restaurant on Sunday after we win. Been a while since I’ve seen her. I get that you were caught off guard by it but I mean the way that you were talking, yall were fucking morning, noon, and night. So, are you surprised?”

“Didn’t apologize, instead I accused her of being a gold digger and she broke up with me and for good reason. I said some not so nice things to her when she obviously came to me scared shitless.”

“Damn, okay. We can fix this. Just have to apologize to her and…”

“Knowing how she is, she is not going to let me anywhere near her or the baby because of how I reacted. Like, she is a person who protects herself and her well-being, as soon as she feels something is off, she cuts you out of her life without a second thought. Her boyfriends have called her cold hearted in the past, but fail to mention how they failed her as boyfriends eventually making her the way she is.”

“Okay, back up for a second. Do you want to be in this baby’s life or not? Because the Joe I know would.”

“I do now that I sat down and thought about everything that went down. I feel so bad about how I talked to her, but when I tried to call her like a day later, I found out she blocked me. But also went as far as blocking me on every social media page she has. I literally cannot find a trace of her and it’s like she doesn’t even exist.”

“Uh? She has an entire restaurant that you can go to? And a house? Go there and talk to her.”

“For her to kick me out? I can imagine that she’s told her best friend Kendall by now as well as her dad who I know probably wants to kill me. He’s a season ticket holder so I know that it’s only a matter of time before he shows up to a game and beats my face in.”

“Okay let me see real quick.” Ja’Marr said as they had finally made it back into the locker room. He went and unlocked his phone and noticed that you had done the same thing as you had done to Joe.

“Shit…”

“What?”

“She blocked me too. I was going to see if I could convince her to talk to you, but now that plan has gone out the window.” He said to Joe as he scratched the top of his head.

“I just need to make this right somehow, someway.”

“Like I said, go to the restaurant and talk to her. The worst thing that she could possibly do is say she doesn’t want to talk to you. If she does, we’ll figure out next steps from there so you can be in this baby’s life. I got your back, bro despite how fucking stupid you reacted to this entire situation. She didn’t get pregnant by herself. We’re going to fix this. Y/N cares about you too much.”

“I think the ship of her wanting anything to do with me sailed away a long time ago.”

After his presser and the day had finally come to a close, Joe got into his car and was on his way home until he started to go in the other direction. He figured that his parents would also be able to help him through this.

To Athens it was.

Majority of the drive was done in silence in order for him to be able to think about what his next steps would be regarding you and the baby. He definitely didn’t want to be seen as a deadbeat father. He wanted a chance for his child to grow up with both parents even though they probably won’t be under the same roof. Walking away would weigh so heavily on his conscience and he knew for a fact that he couldn’t go about his daily life not knowing if you as well as his child was okay.

By the time he reached his parents house, it was around 6 in the evening and saw that both of their cars were in the driveway which he was happy about. That way he wouldn’t have to re[eat the entire story to both of them separately.

Once he reached the front door and opened it, he walked in to see both of his parents sitting in the living room and they looked up at him surprised.

“Didn't think we’d be seeing you until Sunday.” His dad said as he got up to greet him, while Robin was busy analyzing him. She could tell that something was off.

“You would not drive all the way here unless something is wrong so start talking.” She told him after she hugged him.

“Hmm, you didn't waste any time. Who said something had to be wrong?”

“Because we know our child like the back of our hand.” Jim responded as Robin nodded.

“Can I at least eat something first before I get interrogated?” Joe asked and a small smirk appeared on Robin's face.

“We can do it at the same time and lucky for you, the food should be done.” She said to him as she made her way into the kitchen with Joe and Jim walking behind her.

Once everyone was settled at the table, a thought concerning you popped into Robin's head and she made it a point to ask about you.

“How’s Y/N? You haven't mentioned her lately. When are we going to meet her? I was hoping she would be there on Sunday.”

That was when Joe put his fork down on the table.

“I… We broke up at least I think we did and it's entirely my fault and I don't think she's going to forgive me.”

“I'm sure you two can talk it out. You're adults and from the way you talk about her we know she's important to you.” Jim told him and Robin quickly agreed.

It was quiet for a few seconds before Joe laid everything out in one breath.

“She told me she was pregnant the day I signed my contract and I accused her of being a gold digger and we got into an argument and she definitely said that I would regret the way that I had talked to her so here we are.” Joe muttered and both of his parents looked at him in disbelief.

“Joseph….”

“I know how bad it sounds and I was an asshole to her.”

“When's the last time you talked to her?”

“That was it and I haven't talked to her since. She's blocked me on everything and I don't know what to do. When I say how everything went down out loud, I feel bad all over again.”

Jim and Robin sat in silence as they had a conversation with one another only with their eyes.

“We raised you better than this.”

“I know.”

“If you had your suspicions about it, a DNA test could have been performed when they were born. Calling her a gold digger wasn't needed.”

“I know, I already feel bad enough. But I highly doubt that she is going to forgive me.”

“Well from the way you talked to her, do you think that you deserve forgiveness?” Jim responded as Joe took a deep breath and sighed.

“Probably not if I'm being honest.” He quietly said.

“I don't know what you need to do but you better make this right so I can see my future grand baby.” Robin told him as she still had a look of disbelief on her face and pointed her fork in his direction.

—

After the game on Sunday as well as the press conference, Joe was once again sitting in his car and debating if he should go to the restaurant and talk to you. Since it was a night game that was played, he knew that the restaurant wouldn’t close until 2 am and the closer it got to closing time, the less busy you would be.

His mother had been asking him every day since he confessed what he did if he had talked to you and knew for a fact that she was growing extremely annoyed with him since the answer was always no.

By the time he had reached the restaurant, it was approaching one in the morning. He parked and made his way inside only to be greeted by his favorite hostess Blanca. What caught him off guard was her giving him death glares. Blanca had only overheard what he had done from overhearing Kendall and you talking, but it was enough for her to start to not like him.

“Blanca.”

“We’re closed, Burrow.”

“Uh? You don’t close for another hour….” He trailed off and he looked down at his watch in confusion making sure that he had the time right.

“What do you want?” She asked him as she took out a nail file and began to work on her left hand.

“To see Y/N, I need to talk to her.”

“Funny seeing you here now seeing as you haven’t been around for about two months. Word on the street is that the two of you broke up and it was your fault and seeing as Y/N employs me and cannot do any wrong in my eyes, whatever I heard that you did, you definitely did it.” She quietly said as she held up her hand to examine it.

“Blanca…. I really need to talk to her and I’m not explaining myself to you. It’s between me and her, not me, her, and you.” Joe explained, but all she did was roll her eyes.

“Seeing as you have to get past me in order to get to your table, that she should have removed your name from by the way, what’s in it for me? Y/N is an amazing person and you hurt her.”

“And I’m trying to make this right and I’m going to need you to move in order for me to be able to do that.” He told her as he pulled out two crisp 100 dollar bills and she analyzed them for a second.

“Don’t act like you don’t want it. This is what’s in it for you if you let me see her.” He said as he made a move to grab it, but he quickly moved his hand until she agreed.

“Y/N is going to kill me, but fine. Come on.” She told him as she led him to his table.

Once he reached the balcony, it was a clear crisp night where you could see all of the stars in the sky. It was just the right temperature which he was thankful for because the last thing he wanted to happen was for other people to overhear their conversation if he had been forced to stay inside. When he sat down at the table, Blanca made a motion for Joe to give her the money and she quickly snatched it out of his hand.

“I’m always loyal to Y/N, but I can be bribed once in a while. Did you want to order something? I can send a waitress over?”

“No, that’s okay. I just want to see Y/N.”

“Wait until you see her belly. Anyway, there aren’t a lot of guests at the moment so she should be able to step away. I’ll go and get her for you.” She said as she attempted to give him a weak smile making note of how defeated he looked by the entire situation.

As soon as you walked out onto the balcony, the last person that you ever expected to see was sitting at the table that was the furthest from the doorway and tried to turn around to go back into the restaurant, but he saw you and quickly ran over to you and grabbed your hand which you quickly snatched away from him.

“Wait, Y/N. I just want to talk. Just… please.”

“I’m busy.”

“But the restaurant is about to close, I figured that this would be the best time for me to come and try to talk to you.”

“Remind me when this conversation is over to ban you from my restaurant. Actually let's just include everyone who works for the Cincinnati Bengals organization past and present.”

“I… deserve that.” He told you as he glanced down at your protruding belly. Blanca wasn’t lying.

“That isn't even the tip of the iceberg of what you deserve.”

“Look you blocked me on literally everything and you not only blocked me but my friends too so this was the only way I knew I would be able to talk to you.”

“But why? Why do you want to talk to me? I'm a gold digger who was only with you for your money, remember?”

“I said some not so nice things to you and I need to apologize for them.”

“I don't want your fucking apology. I heard you loud and clear the first time and you obviously meant what you said so stand by it.”

“Y/N, please. I want to make this right so I can raise this child with you. I was an asshole and I knew the risks of you possibly getting pregnant, but I didn’t care which was not right at all. Just meet me halfway here.”

“Didn't I tell you that you were going to regret how you spoke to me? And then you said that you highly doubted it?”

“Yes and I ended up regretting it just like you said. And I told my parents about you.”

“For what? So they can harass me too? Tell me that I trapped their son? Because you know the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

“No! They're the ones who encouraged me to try to talk to you right along with Ja’Marr. They want to meet you. My mom actually lowkey threatened me if I’m being honest.”

“I don't think you actually realize how bad you hurt me. It has been years since I was that vulnerable with someone and you just let me know that you didn't care about me at all in a matter of five minutes when I originally told you.”

“I do care about you!”

“Really? Because I recall you saying something about having a baby by someone you hardly even knew. Acting as if I was a complete stranger to you and the four months that we actually did spend together didn’t matter.”

“Okay, Y/N, I'm trying to move forward but how can we do that if all you're doing is reminding me of what I said? I know I fucked up, but I'm trying to make this right.” Joe said as he was trying to keep his voice down seeing as the entrance door to the inside of the restaurant was still open.

“Or is this because you think I'll expose you to the media and say that you're a deadbeat dad? Beloved Bengals quarterback Joe Burrow is amazing on the field and always takes the opportunity to talk to his fans. However, ignores the child that he made with his ex-girlfriend off the field.” You questioned him as you glanced down at your watch to see what time it was.

“It seems like I can't win with you no matter what I try to say or do.”

“Keep in mind that we're having this conversation because of something you did. I was simply going to let you keep living your life and not bother you. I wasn’t even going to bother you for child support. But now, look who came crawling back just like I said he would?”

You were throwing punches left and right towards Joe, making his head spin. He knew before coming here that it probably wasn’t going to be the smoothest conversation, but he did not expect anything like this.

“Can we please just call a truce? I don't want to fight with you and I can imagine that it isn't good for the baby either. I will do absolutely anything that you need me to do to be able to support you through the rest of this pregnancy. You have my word on that. Have you found out if it's a boy or a girl?” He asked and you sighed as you rolled your eyes knowing that he was right.

Being stubborn and hard headed would only be able to get you so far in life. Deep down, you didn’t want to have to do this alone, but since that was the situation you were presented with, you were simply going to grin and bear it.

I was quiet for a little while until you moved to sit down at Joe's table with him sitting across from you not wanting to push his luck.

“No, Kendall is the only one that knows. And I guess you’re right about calling a truce.” You told him as you finally gave in because this conversation was going absolutely nowhere.

“I really am sorry about what I said and how I acted towards you.”

“It happened and we can’t do anything about it now. I also hope you know that I still stand by this relationship being over. Just because I forgave one thing you did doesn't mean that things can go back to being the way they were.”

“I get it and I have to respect your decision.”

“Maybe in the future, but not now.” You quietly said while Joe nodded.

Since your back was facing the doorway, Joe looked up and noticed your best friend Kendall who was a chef as well peeking her head out to look at both of you. He assumed that Blanca had told her that he was here and sent her up to be a mediator if need be.

“You two good up here?” She asked as she made her way to the table. She also sent a death glare to Joe, but that quickly went out the window once she heard your voice.

“We’re fine, no need to worry.”

“I actually had a surprise for you and now because Joe is here, it’ll make it that much better. Let me go get it.”

“What in the world are you up to?” You asked her as she shook her head indicating that she wasn’t telling you and made her way back inside of the restaurant.

Once she returned, there was a white cake with pink and blue sprinkles being held by her and she placed it down in the middle of the table between both of you.

“Kendall, what’s this? My birthday is not for another two months and you know that?” You asked and she smiled back at you.

“Well, I knew you wanted something kind of lowkey for a gender reveal and my plan was to do it after we had closed the restaurant for the night. Since you literally text me everyday to tell you what the gender is even though after you send it, you quickly backtrack and say that you don’t want to know anymore. So, the cake will let you know if it’s a boy or a girl when you cut into it.” She explained as she handed you the knife.

“I don’t know if I want to know yet!” You exclaimed and Kendall immediately shook her head.

“No, absolutely not. We are not doing this for the remainder of your pregnancy. Cut it and cut it now. You are not going to be bothering me every day about this. Besides, baby daddy wants to know, don’t you Joe?”

“Um, yeah.” He quietly answered but also not trying to cause any more tension.

You rolled your eyes as you placed the knife onto the cake and gently pushed down. Once you separated the slice from the remainder of the cake, both your eyes went wide along with Joe’s as all three of you were now staring at a pink cake.

“I’ll finally be able to be the mother that someone deserves.”

One year later

You opened the door to your daughter’s room and peeked into her crib to see her wide awake and looking at you.

“Good morning, Amora. Are you excited to see daddy play in the first home game of the season? We get to sit up in the big suite with grandma and both of our grandpas and you have the cutest outfit that he bought you to wear for today.” You asked as you picked her up and cradled her to your chest.

All you got was a series of spit bubbles and a smile in response.

“I’m going to take that as a yes seeing as soon as I said daddy I got a smile.” You told her as you tickled her small belly now making a laugh escape.

You were caught off guard as you felt arms wrap around you from behind and Joe leaned to the side to be able to kiss your cheek.

“Good morning baby doll.” He told you as he held out his hands to take Amora from you.

“I didn’t even hear you come in. How long have you been awake?” You asked and he shrugged.

“Not long, maybe fifteen minutes.” He replied and you nodded as you went to get her outfit out of her dresser and begin to pack her diaper bag.

“And good morning my princess.” He told her as he kissed both of her cheeks.

“You get prettier every day just like your mom.”

“Stop trying to butter me up, Burrow.” You told him while laughing and getting more diapers from the bottom drawer of her changing table.

“Not buttering you up, just telling the truth. I mean look how gorgeous this kid is. We should make another one.” He replied as he began to play with her.

Hearing this, you stopped what you were doing and looked at him in disbelief as Joe smirked.

“She is literally only four months old, slow your roll.” Your body was nowhere near healed from giving birth to Amora and the thought of having another one so soon was the furthest from your mind.

“Nothing wrong with planning for the future.” He replied as he was now holding Amora with one arm and turned your face with his other hand to face him as he leaned down to kiss you.

“Fine, but I have terms and conditions.”

“Name them and it’ll be done.”

“A ring needs to be on my finger before I even consider having another one.” You told him and a smile instantly broke out across his face as he leaned down to kiss you once more.

“Is that it? But, who’s to say that I don’t already have it?”

[theorist-fox]

Promise rings

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Crossposted on AO3.

Filthy. That's it. If you want some more humiliation kink I highly, highly, highly, highly recommend this by @/the-californicationist

Part 1 >> Part 2 >> Part 3 >> Part 4

18+

Word count: 5.2k

Summary: Simon fingers you in the rec room and you give him a promise ring. Or two—depending on how many fingers he's used.

CW: smut (fingering, finger sucking, squirting), humiliation kink, semi-public, Simon is a little mean but you love it so it's fine, dub con if you squint and mention of safeword

Masterlist 🦊

𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬

“Don’ wan’ anyone to hear ya now, do we?” 

He hushes you, mouth to your ear. His hand is shackled to your hips by the waistband of your sweatpants, two thick fingers already slick and buried to the knuckle.

Simon holds you tightly in place, hand curled at the base of your throat as an empty threat he won’t fulfill unless you kindly ask. He has you tucked between his legs, aptly spread to accommodate your body in between, as he slowly pumps his fingers into your cunt. Your knees are conveniently hooked on each of his thighs, and they’re already trembling even if he’s just begun.

Sweat collects on your back, dampening your shirt and by extension his own too. You feel his heart rabbit in his ribcage, thrumming against your spine. Thick arms glue your back to his chest—just in case you want to make a run for it. 

As if, right?

Earlier that night, he’d caught you out of your room much past midnight, trying to sneak a cuppa in the common area. Told you something along the lines of how he should have you cleaning the toilets because you’re breaking curfew, and you bit back with a hefty dose of sarcasm about how that’s not your favorite punishment he’s ever given you.

And so, he’d grabbed you by the waist and dropped back on the couch with an arm still coiled around it. 

You’re ashamed to say it only took two fingers circling your entrance and his tongue licking wanton stripes down your neck to make you embarrassingly wet. Balaclava lifted to his nose, he’d murmured unholy things to your ear, like how he’d want to drill in your head that you can’t go and break base rules, how he can’t keep covering for you, how he’d love to teach you a lesson by splitting you in half on his cock until you can only part your lips to apologize for giving him a headache.

But alas, the location isn’t sex friendly. 

However, the notion hasn't stopped Simon from adopting a more subtle approach that would lead to a similar conclusion. Like swirling the tips of his fingers around the fluttering hole of your cunt. Or biting softly at the shell of your ear, while keeping you nice and still with a hand on your collarbones.

Doesn’t stop him now, as he curls the pads of his fingers until they press where the velvet of your walls gets rougher to the touch. 

You abandon your head back onto his shoulder, heavy puffs leave your mouth in tandem with the skilled work of his hand, one that knows every nook and cranny of you. Glossy lips start nibbling at his neck and you relish how his throat bobs each time your teeth sink a little deeper. His growing stubble scratches the tender skin of your mouth, but it’s more than fine because you like how it stings.

“Little more, please?” You breathe.

But it’s then that he stops beckoning his fingers, leaving your walls to clamp around them as they fall still. You protest by biting the tendons of his neck a bit harder, suppressing a groan into it.

“Maybe it went over your head,” he drawls, tugging the balaclava down his chin before returning his hand at the base of your throat. “But this is a punishment, love.”

He cruelly leaves your hole to desperately flutter around nothing, but ultimately uses those same fingers to wet the rest of your sex. Keeping quiet becomes less of an option when he starts rubbing idle circles on your clit. He’s neglected it all this time, making it swell with blood and causing its sensitivity to peak. 

You shudder when he first brushes over it. 

As if out of habit, you search for his lips, sure to add a nice make-out session to pair with his fingers. But your mouth only meets fabric, and you frown.

“Don’t be a bastard, Riley.”

He hums, turning away to press a kiss to your cheek through the balaclava. “Only way I know.”

You pout. “Just one.”

“Behave.”

With a sigh, you relent. There’s no use in begging for something he won’t give you. You’ve learned to recognize what you can get from Simon, and what will be out of reach for the time being. If he’s decided he doesn’t want to kiss you, you will not get a kiss. 

But it doesn’t mean that you can’t be a little petty about it. 

You tug at his mask with your teeth, catching his lower lip too, and sharply bite into it.

In response, Simon slaps your pussy. A wet thwack echoes in the silent rec room. It sends tingles up your spine, and you hiss and gasp against his lips. Your nerves are currently haywire, and they cannot discern whether that rush was due to pain or pleasure.

You pull back only to pout, but it's obvious to both of you that there is no animosity in your eyes. In fact, Simon’s gaze falls to your lips with lust embedded in his pupils, and he takes that slightly jutting lower lip of yours as a little plea for him to give you what you need. Which is why he brushes his wet fingertips to your clit again, and again, until he can feel you soften in his grasp with a sequence of breathy, surrendering sighs. Only then, when you feel like molten wax in his hands, he switches to more rewarding, steady circles.

His focus leaves your lips only to take in your eyes. They’re diligently trained on him, because you know he likes to look you dead in the eye when he’s making you tremble to the bone. Eye contact is the only means he uses to communicate with you in the fog that is your relationship.

He’s more absorbed than you are, your eyes getting glassier by the minute. You want to keep it up, to hold your own against his stare that defies you to crack him open and peel the layers and understand. But you and him both know that is the last straw for you. He’s made you sensitive and supple and dull. Your head rolls back against his shoulder, and you push back, once again, the discovery of Simon Riley.

You breathe softly against his neck, trying to give yourself some containment due to the location you’re in. Nails dig in his forearms until they mark pink crescents over his tattoos, hoping that releasing tension through touch would help you keep your mouth shut.

Simon knows you still have something up your sleeve to use against him, because his weakness is to have you yearning for him as much as he does you—to have you pleading for his words, his touch, his presence, like he internally does each time you walk into his same space. 

You’ve never had a problem begging. When you’re confident enough about your person, pride doesn’t even get involved—they’re just words, and if he likes them, then so be it.

As long as he makes you come until your head spins.

“Please, Simon.” You whimper, putting up that act he knows all too well. As if he’d believe you’re truly submitting to him—but it’s fine, to be honest.

He's never wanted you to bend for him. Simon likes that fire that singes your pupils when you’re on active duty, or when you fuck him. He wouldn’t dream of snuffing it out, not when he’s more than aware that it makes him glow, too.

“Bit louder.” He rasps against your ear.

And you oblige, going as far as to wet your lips and bat your pretty lashes at him. Minx.

“Please? I’ll suck your cock after.”

Simon huffs. “Sellin’ it alrigh’.”

He loves to feel the stiffness of your clit under the pads of his fingers, how the more he skims them over it, the harder it gets—as if he’s flipping a switch. Which he sort of is, isn’t he? You’ve turned from the snarky little minx that could make him crack a smile or two, into this soft clay molding under the warmth of his touch.

“Wanna cum,” you sigh sweetly against his skin, sucking tenderly at the exposed flesh on his neck. “Please, Simon, let’s go to my room.”

He tuts at you, slowing down with his hand only to get you annoyed.

“We’re gonna stay ‘ere,” he murmurs, softly shaking his head so that the fabric of the balaclava scratches your skin. 

Then, out of the blue, you feel fingers dig into your jaw and pulling your mouth away from his neck. He forces your eyes forward, where the door of the rec room opens to the dark hallway. 

“You’re gonna cum on my hand, yeah? Soak it nicely.” He rasps against your ear, “An’ you’re gonna be quiet ‘bout it.”

Your cunt flutters.

“Need you sharp. Tha' clear?” He says, commanding as ever. “Answer, Sergeant.”

It almost makes you unravel then and there. Your eyes roll back and your hips buck against his hand. But you still have bits of reason floating around that mush he’s turned your brain into. 

He leaves the grip around your jaw and returns his hand at the base of your throat, thumb and middle finger gently pressing at its sides. Your head lolls back onto his shoulder with blissful abandon.  

“Cameras,” you mumble, sounding a little stupid and definitely on the verge of surrender. “There’re cameras.”

His response comes swiftly. “Not pointin’ at the sofa.”

Your chest stutters. He feels it under the weight of his palm. Your soft moans quiet down, too. A telltale sign of your beautiful brain whirring its cogs again. How he loves it, more than your body. Outwitting his every move. A true opponent—or ally, if only he’d allow you a little closer.

“You planned this, haven’t you?” You whisper cleverly, face still hidden in the crook of his neck and chest still heaving under his hand. Still affected by him, and yet your voice sounds steady and smooth.

And you’re so right. He knows this place by heart and could walk around it blindfolded. When he saw you in your grey sweatpants and an old white t-shirt, fumbling lazily with the electric kettle, blood had rushed so quickly to his cock he thought he could have fainted.

There is something about you invested in this almost boring, domestic light that always strikes him breathless. When the outline of the pillow fabric is imprinted in your cheek. When your hair is tousled by the bedsheets.

You look good in uniform too, all safely cradled in Kevlar and padded in neoprene. But it’s when you look drowsy and soft that sends him spiraling.

With the calculating mind of the pathological control freak he is, he’d retraced the position of the cameras in his head, and promptly decided to have you then and there.

The silence following your question must not be as subtle as he thinks. In seconds, you go from pliantly soft, into a squirming mess trying to escape him. Simon manages to hold you still only because he overpowers you in strength.

“What is it, mh?” You hiss, pushing at his forearm. “Been following me, L.T.?”

He hadn’t. Truly, he’d just stumbled upon you. It wouldn’t be too odd—he’s a sleepless ghost, after all, oftentimes found wandering around base at ungodly hours. The fact that he’d found you in his usual haunting grounds had been mere luck—true, blessed luck.

“You are-”

“Shut up.”

“-Fucking obsessed, and you-”

“Don’t.”

“-can’t even admit it.“

“Sergeant.”

“Coward.”

He plunges those two fingers back inside, punching a gasp out of you, and he gives no time for your hole to readjust to the stretch. Simply, he starts dragging against the front of your walls with a voracity that could be mistaken for hate, if you didn’t know him better.

You stiffen suddenly, arching your back off his chest. Teeth catch your bottom lip in an almost bloodthirsty grip—as much as you want to scream at him, you don’t want to get caught either.

He rams relentlessly into you until you're melting once again. His mouth is painfully pressed against your ear, and if the balaclava wasn't in the way, he would be lapping at whatever piece of flesh he could land on.

“Y’re a clever little thing, uh?” He groans huskily. “Always got the fuckin’ answer ready.”

You laugh under your breath, perhaps because you’re getting exactly what you want, or perhaps because you’ve been reading him more keenly than he thought and you've finally uncovered some new information that has been shrouded in darkness up until now.

He doesn’t care, and he gives in to you.

“Oh, you love it, you bastard,” you bite back breathlessly, which only makes his cock twitch in the tight space of his briefs.

“Smug little cunt.” He breathes in your ear, but you swear there isn’t an ounce of hostility in it.

You turn your head to meet his eyes. The playful smile on your fucked out face is straight out of his dreams—he's seen it so many times and yet it never ceases to amaze him. Nor does the way your hair bounces off your face in recoil from the frantic work of his hand. Or how your cheeks turn ruddy for him. Or how your lashes cast heavy shadows down your face.

“You love this smug little cunt, too.” You breathe, smugly.

Just proving his words, really.

“Don’t get cocky,” he hums in your ear. “Might gonna have to prove ya wrong, then.”

The heel of his hand rolls against your puffy clit in tandem with his fingers, because he wants you to come undone impossibly quick now that you’ve caught him red-handed.

It’s enough to make you forget you’re having a battle of wits with him. Your eyes roll back again, and your head falls limply onto his shoulder.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you wheeze, and he takes that as a sign to not stride away from the pace he’s taken.

His hand at the base of your neck tightens slightly, causing your breathy moans to lodge in your throat. Your cunt clenches right then, and your lips tug in a smile—because you love it, and he knows.

His contorted little mess. His cunning fox, strutting around the base with so much confidence in her gait, looking seemingly untamable. But when you're in his clutches, you're nothing but his pet, the one who enjoys having her leash tugged a little more firmly than socially acceptable.

“S-Simon.” Yes. Yes. C’mon, sweetheart. C’mon. “Simon – oh God –“

You’re being too loud. He doesn’t care if he gets caught with his pants down. He dares someone to confront him about it. Simon doesn’t revel in fickle things like dignity, not after life has done its goddamn worst to strip him of it.

But you? Hell, not you. He cherishes your privacy, in spite of how this whole predicament might make it look otherwise. On top of that, he selfishly likes to think he’s the only one with the delightful honor to see you so flushed and breathless, moaning his name like it’s the only one you know.

“Told ya to stay quiet.” And he stuffs two fingers in your mouth.

You groan and suck them back to your throat, until his pads graze the soft palate at the back. You gag around them, and he almost comes in his pants, wishing it was his cock instead. 

“Bite, don’t shout.” 

And you do. You bite the flesh around the base of his fingers, while his other ones are bringing you closer to the edge. An edge you’ve touched plenty of times with him, but one you’d rather not reach in such a public spot.

Granted, it’s night. It would be a fateful event for someone to walk by—rare, if not unique.

But still.

“Simon,” you moan, voice muffled around his fingers. “Fuck’s sake, no’ ‘ere.”

He chuckles, because he knows.

And you confirm it, by getting all agitated in his arms, eyes wide open staring at the ceiling. Your hand curls around the wrist of his offending hand, still ramming deep into your sex.

“Simon, stop –” You croak, slightly pulling back to speak. “M’gonna cum—stop.”

He doesn’t. That’s not the safe word, is it? Say it, and he’ll stop stock still in less than a heartbeat. 

But you won't, right, sweet thing? No, you won’t. Because it feels too good, doesn’t it? 

“Red?” He rumbles, voice low and measured to give you the impression that he still has some semblance of control left.

You cry around his fingers until your brows touch. Tears prickle the corners of your eyes, and maybe, he thinks, you like this. The thought of getting caught. The thought of someone seeing you come for him, shaking and bucking your hips like you’re a fucking cat in heat.

His fingers don’t relent, because that tiny word still hasn’t left your lips.

“Red?” He insists, as he feels your cunt clench impossibly tight each time he speaks. “Answer.”

But you don’t. Instead, you shake your head with a sob, and Simon would bet his fucking right hand that it’s out of pleasure more than anything else.

He chuckles, low and deep. “Dirty fuckin’ slag.”

He’d recognize that fucked out look anywhere. As if you’re struggling to breathe, eyes unfocused and glassy, lustrous lips puckered right above the knuckle. He regrets refusing your kiss, because he's sure they’d look even more delectable after he’s bitten them to bits.

“You like this, uh?” He rasps against your ear. “Wan’ an audience all for ya, yeah? Wan’ the team to pop in to see you like this?”

You shake your head, muffling a cry around his fingers. 

He tuts at you. “Don’t lie to me, love.”

You squirm and moan, sniffling with your nose as tears travel down your temples and into your hairline. You nod, then, because you’re a good sergeant and you follow orders as dutifully as you hand them out—every time.

"Wan' em all to 'ave a wank as you cum 'round my fingers, don't you?" He croons, even if the thought of someone seeing you like this has his blood boiling.

Drool gathers at the corners of your mouth as you buck your hips to intensify the work of his hand. And you nod vigorously, once again, with your eyes rolled back. Heavy puffs leave your nostrils, shallow and quick.

Simon hums a groan deep from his chest. He loves to see you break, loves to see you crack so easily. Doesn’t care if your mouth is quieted by his fingers, because your cunt is so wet it’s making sounds of its own that are enough for his greedy, insatiable ears.

His forearm starts cramping but he'll be damned if he stops, keeping his ring and middle finger inside as he presses them to the front wall of your vagina, while rhythmically dragging them in and out in a dance he knows will make you shatter.

And then you tense, corded neck tilted back. A long, agonizing moan escapes your stuffed mouth, and your walls signal your orgasm before your lips do. You ripple around his fingers, initially making movements hard, if not impossible. He easily overcomes that obstacle and keeps fucking you raw with the help of your come collecting on his palm. You’re so wet he barely has to try.

He looks at your profile on his shoulder. At the fucked out look in your eyes, misty and unfocused. Keenly listens to the moans you're trying to contain, as they turn into wheezing mewls. Feels the vice grip your pulsating cunt has on his fingers, the indents left by your teeth on his other hand.

Fuck it, you're gorgeous.

You come back down from the high with a wet gasp choked by his knuckles. Your nose is stuffy and it’s probably a little hard to breathe—but he’s merciful and takes out his fingers. 

Or, at least, tries. 

Your head lunges forward before he’s fully pulled them out. You gag when the tips touch the back of your throat again.  

Simon’s eyes widen but he doesn’t waste a second.

He resumes the pace that has already made you come, watching with rapt attention how your face doesn’t even look like yours anymore. There’s spit on your lips, and tears down your eyes. He’s already seen you wrecked, folded in half on his bedsheets. But there’s something even more unhinged about having you panting in the common area of a high security military base. It feeds him a great deal of power—you’re doing this for him, you’re putting yourself on the line because of him. 

That, of course, requires a reward. 

“Look at you,” he croaks. “Gimme one more, yeah? One more.”

Your legs squirm and you kick your heels against the sofa in sudden overstimulation, the hold of your hands on his arm turns into a death grip that paints your knuckles white and his flesh red. You could be skinning him alive, and he wouldn’t stop the onslaught on your pussy. 

He can hear you heaving, sees your pebbled nipples brush against the soft cotton of your t-shirt. Your teeth are sinking into his flesh, and he will most likely be sporting bruised bite marks on his fingers for a few days. He rolls his wrist to cause fluctuations in the pressure on your swollen clit and against your walls. Your hips swing together with his hand. He knows where to touch, you know how to guide him—it’s an intimate dance, and it belongs to you two only.

Simon scratches his cheek against your temple to collect the tears that are falling into your hairline.

He flattens the heel of his hand against your clit, which is once again a stiff kink of nerves—he’s shocked by how far he can push you before he wrings you dry. 

Your eyes touch his own, but you’re not even looking. Still unsated, still greedy for more—you love this, don’t you? Too much on your shoulders: responsibilities, a haunting past and an uncertain future. This job gives you very few rewards for the effort you put into it. That’s why you love it, when he brushes away every fear and uncertainty with a simple roll of his hand. 

He starts beckoning his fingers inside of you, teasing and pressing against that one overstimulated spot that has already made you come. The squelching noises coming from your pussy are enough to make his cock leak as he keeps pressing and sliding against your ass.

“Leakin’ like a fuckin’ faucet.” He rasps against your ear.

You moan around his fingers, and it vibrates through his bones. Your eyes are hooded, lushes clumped with tears, and your body is completely abandoned and at his mercy. You trust him to ruin you in the best ways, and he can only comply.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he whispers in your ear. “Could cum just by lookin’ at ya.”

Feeding you this knowledge seems enough to tip you over the edge again.

He wishes he’d taken this to another room like you asked before, because you slip into a second orgasm with a choked “Fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuck!” muffled by his digits that will haunt him forever.

A rushing flood invades his palm, and he bites the inside of his cheek to keep from groaning at the sight. You come spraying liquid, tense and quivering in his arms. The soft grey marl of your sweats first darkens with tiny speckles, and then it blends into a larger spot covering the crotch of your pants.

Breath is caught in your throat, and if he wasn't witnessing the strength of your orgasm firsthand, he'd be dead worried by the look on your face. Pinched and overwhelmed.

"There it is." He murmurs, low and gravelly, "Fuck, tha's a sight. Fuckin' lovely."

He leaves your hole to flutter emptily only to skim the pruny pads of his fingers on your clit to prolong your orgasm, watching mesmerized how your squirt keeps staining the fabric.

It’s impossibly hot and it makes something in his head tick at the sight, almost like a needle puncturing his brain. His cock twitches helplessly as he unconsciously keeps rubbing the swollen head against your plump rear, before an unexpected warmth floods through him and invades each one of his nerves. 

He tastes blood on his tongue for how hard he’s been biting his cheek. 

Fuck.

A ragged breath around his fingers tells him you’ve returned to yourself. You soften against him like a doll prettily placed on his lap. 

"Breathe," he says softly, watching keenly as you come back to your senses. "Slow n' steady, love. Deep breaths. Tha's it."

His fingers slow, guiding you down to earth. Your eyes are hooded, glossy and now apparently sated, blood collected in the apples of your cheeks. You’re looking at him too, now gently suckling on his fingers to keep quiet, nostrils flaring to breathe as he's instructing you.

You’re so beautiful he forgets he has to be a bastard around you, or you’ll come and try to steal the heart you unknowingly already own.

Simon takes his fingers out of your mouth, not without smearing the spit they collected all over your lips first. You pant and smile. And apparently, you don't care that he's wearing the mask, because you lean in and kiss where his lips would be. Just a peck. He can’t fathom giving you more, not now. Not when his head is so confused, thoughts and feelings twisted in an imprecise knot. He simply kisses you back, silently cursing the fabric separating your skin from his, but ultimately doing nothing about it. Then, he helps you stand. 

“Go on, now.” He murmurs, patting your thigh. “S’after curfew.”

You're looking a little out of it. Simon can't help but feel a brief moment of guilt for leaving you to fend for yourself, when your legs look like they're made of jelly and your head still swims in ecstasy.

You wobble to the table, flattening your hands on the faux wood to regain your balance. Head bowed and still panting, your hair falls to frame your face and hides it from his sight. You feel dizzy, blinking your eyes to center yourself. The pleasure ebbs away slowly, languid, like molten lava leaving the crater of a volcano, dripping down your quivering legs scorching hot, until it puddles at your feet.

Differently, Simon doesn’t move from the sofa. A hand comes to adjust his crotch, and he lifts his hips to get into a more comfortable angle. He stays like that, legs spread as the ghost of you still sits in between them. His thumb grazes the fabric of the sweatpants he uses as loungewear, and he looks at you. Bent at the waist, wet, messy and panting—his name is written over you with a big, fat indelible marker. 

You’re his, his, his. No matter what you say, or what he says—you’re his.

Simon’s eyes are dark and heavy with lust and a tinge of anger, and you can feel them like lasers drawing your profile as if he’s carving it into marble. Whichever thought about him was about to bloom, however, is smothered to cinders when you spot the huge wet patch between your thighs.

Your eyes widen and you turn, if possible, even more flushed. Your head snaps upward and to him in a flash. Your eyes are burning, and Simon can’t help but think he’d love for you to scorch him to the bone.

“Y-You fuckin’ bastard.” You point an accusing finger in his direction, walking awkwardly as the sodden cotton of your knickers sticks uncomfortably to your pussy.

“Go on, I said.” He murmurs in his usual, jaded way. “S’late, you’re gonna get caught.”

You’re infuriated. Incensed. He wants to fuck you all over, flatten your tits to that same table, and ram into you while you shower him with curses and come.

“How am I s’posed to walk around like I’ve pissed myself!”

You’re whisper yelling. Smoke is billowing out of your ears. Your eyes turn crimson and you’re growing horns and a pointy tail.

You look beautiful.

But he simply rolls his neck and keeps his big hand draped over his groin. 

“With your legs, love.”

And you stomp to him until you’re standing once again between his thighs.

“I’ll fuckin’ kill you.”

Simon throws back his head onto the top of the couch and looks at you through hooded eyes, pupils blown into a black hole that sucks the light of his brown irises.

“Can’t kill a ghost.”

"Oh, shut your gob with that shit.” You spit with vitriol. 

“Not so smug now, uh?”

You suck in a sharp breath.

“You-you fuckin’ wanker.” You hiss, but the embarrassed stutter makes you look like a puffed up cat more than a viper. “I fuckin’ hate you.”

“Bet you do.”

“I’m a respected sergeant, I can’t go ‘round like I’ve piss-”

“That all?”

You glower at him. If he didn’t know you like the back of his hand, he would cower. Shame for you that he does, and the irate flame in your eyes only makes his hunger grow because he knows how voracious you are when you’re furious. 

“Told ya t’was a punishment, didn’t I?” He deadpans, “Jog on, now.”

Once again, you splutter. It would be such an entertaining sight, one he’d relentlessly tease you for, if he was in the mood. But he isn't, and in fact, he needs you to leave as soon as humanly possible.

You clench your fists, probably ready to strike him right in his mug. Totally deserved it, he’d let you get him straight on the nose. 

But then you huff and strike you don’t, stomping your foot on the floor like an angry child. Cleverly, you decide to put your hands to better use and tug down the hem of your oversized t-shirt instead—trying to cover, as best as you can, the wet patch on the crotch of your pants.

Scowling, you threaten him with a sizzling “I’m gonna make you pay for it, Riley.”

You turn around, marching away with ire in each one of your steps as if the soles of your feet could melt the linoleum of the floors by sheer, angry heat.

“Sure you will.” He murmurs to himself, knowing fully well he’s started a battle he’ll gladly let you win. 

Simon waits for the noise of your steps to disappear before he sinks into the couch with a defeated sigh. Tugging off the balaclava, he runs a sloppy hand across his face. He can still smell you on his fingers and something in his stomach knots.

Wearily, his eyes travel down his torso until they meet the hand covering the crotch of his sweatpants. With his thumb, he traces the purple indents left by your teeth at base of each finger. Tomorrow, he’ll wear them proudly. A weird promise ring, sure. But yours, nonetheless.

He lifts his hand slowly and scowls.

An incriminating stain stares back at him. Untouched, softening cock sensitive to the barest of movements he makes. 

Looks like you’ll meet again tomorrow in the laundry room, first thing in the morning.

[venus-haze]

Power Play (Soldier Boy x Reader)

Summary: So, you lost focus and had a consensual workplace relationship. It happens all the time. Maybe not quite like this.

Note: Female reader, but no other descriptors are used. Crazy ass 80s Vought debauchery. I might be a little rusty, but it was fun getting back into writing readerfics after two months🖤 Do not interact if you’re under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: Power imbalance, cheating (Soldier Boy’s with Crimson Countess). Mentions of drug use. Soldier Boy is his own warning. Sexually explicit content involving elements of forced intox, semi-public sex, breeding kink.

You were dizzy. With Vought’s investor gala rapidly approaching, you spent the better part of your day camped out in your office, flipping back and forth through your rolodex to call and confirm catering, entertainment—you still couldn’t believe the board of directors actually approved Duran Duran’s booking fee—and transportation, off the top of your head. You already told Stan Edgar you were taking the following week off, which he had no qualms about—so long as the gala went off without a hitch.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when you were interrupted by a knock at your office door, which you’d left open in an effort to be available in the lead up to the event.

“Don’t tell me Edgar’s got you working tonight,” Soldier Boy said, walking in when he saw he had your attention.

“The most important night of the year is less than a week away and I still have a to-do list as long as your dick, so, yeah.”

He huffed out a laugh. “Must be pretty busy then.”

“How about you? Where’s Countess?” you asked.

Soldier Boy probably would have sought you out even if Crimson Countess were around, but from what you’d been hearing through Vought’s extensive grapevine, they were in yet another rough patch. Though, it seemed to you like their relationship was one long, extremely rough patch with some calm once in a blue moon. You weren’t afraid to admit to yourself that you ate up the gossip of their relationship like candy, especially when the other members of Payback—including Countess herself—would rant to Edgar about it. Since your office was right next to his, and most supes had little to no sense of subtlety, you could hear just about everything.

“She’s at one of those wildlife charity things, pandas or some bullshit.” He rolled his eyes. “Bitched at me because I wouldn’t go. She won’t be back until Friday.”

“Soldier Boy, I can’t just—“

“Sure you can. I mean, I’m technically your boss too, aren’t I?” he asked. “So, I say there’s no harm in taking a ten, fifteen minute break. Relieve some stress.”

You sighed. It had been a while since you actually got up from your desk. “Alright. Fifteen minutes, tops.”

He grinned. “Now we’re talking. You keep that minibar stocked?”

“Pick your poison.”

“Whiskey?”

“Sure.”

At least, you were pretty sure. The minibar in your office served as a nice gesture for the variety of people who’d come into your office for meetings related to all of the aspects of event planning you were in charge of. Over the past few weeks, though, you’d been reaching for bottles of whatever you could find to relieve the stress. Powdered your nose every so often, but tried not to make that a habit—not that you blamed your coworkers who did. Working at Vought was brutal and demanding, but hell, who else got to work with superheroes? Especially handsome, smarmy assholes who knew just how to fuck the lingering thoughts of any deadline or event planning out of your mind if you played your cards right. 

He handed you a shot glass. “What should we toast to?”

“To taking next week off.”

“Yeah? What’ve you got planned?”

You threw back your shot. “Nothing.”

“That’s no fun. How does a few days in Miami sound?”

You nearly scoffed. Of course he could make something like that happen on such short notice. For forty years running he was America’s superhero and Vought’s cash cow. After a night of schmoozing at the investor gala, he could very well clear out his schedule and fuck off for a week of sun, sand, and sex, too.

“I might need some convincing.”

“Then make yourself comfortable,” he said, walking back to the minibar to pour another shot for each of you. Almost comical, he’d have to drink the whole bottle and then some to feel the same way you did after two shots.

You glanced at the open door. “Someone might see.”

“Are you gonna make me repeat myself?”

Sparing the door one more glance, you worked at unbuttoning your blouse, tossing it aside. You shimmied out of your skirt and let it fall to the floor. 

“Heels stay on,” he said, his back to you. “Everything else off. Everything.”

With a hesitant huff, you unhooked your bra and pulled off your panties, throwing them in his direction when he turned around with the shot glasses. You made yourself comfortable on top of your desk, pushing some of your belongings aside to accommodate you.

He whistled lowly as you quickly finished off the second shot he gave you. “Look at you sitting pretty for me.” His green eyes burned a hole through you, though your gaze was fixed on the prominent bulge in his pants. He brought his shot glass to your lips. “Drink up, sweetheart.”

And you did, forcing the alcohol down as your vision blurred with tears at the unrelenting burning in the back of your throat. Felt some whiskey dripping from the corners of your mouth when you drained the shot glass. He collected the excess from your lips with his thumb, sucking it clean as he kept his eyes locked with yours.

“See how much fun we have together?” he asked, leaning over you until you laid back on top of your desk. “Could do that all next week.”

He kissed you, hard and mean like you needed him to. Perfect teeth that caught your bottom lip between them for a moment before releasing. Whiskey on his tongue that went to your head even though you knew he could hardly feel it. Rough hands feeling up your breasts, giving your nipples a harsh tug that made you moan in his mouth.

“You’re soaked,” he said, his voice husky as he rubbed his fingers between your slick folds with tantalizingly slow strokes. “If you wanted it, all you had to do was ask.”

“Fuck,” you whispered.

“What was that?” 

You groaned in frustration. “Just fuck me already.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” 

His mouth was on yours again, nearly distracting you from the sound of a zipper, the your gut clenching in anticipation as he pulled his cock from his pants.

It’d been a while since you had to brace yourself to take him, but you were wet, and maybe a little more than tipsy, so your body gave little resistance when he slid his cock inside you. Though, if Soldier Boy were anything, it was a guy who took what he wanted anyway, giving you hardly a second to get used to the feeling of how his cock stretched your pussy before he was pounding into you with harsh, unforgiving thrusts that made you grip the edge of your desk. 

Sometimes you forgot how strong he was. Hell, so did he, and there was little else you could do but lay there and take what he gave you. In all honesty, it was nice letting someone else take charge after having to hold it together all day. Let him fuck the stress out of you and replace it with all the aches and bruises that came with having sex with the strongest man on earth. 

“Harder,” you forced out, pushing that damn rolodex onto the floor.

“I go any harder, I’m gonna break you in half, and I don’t wanna do that until I’ve got you locked away in a hotel room for a week.”

“What are you gonna do to me?”

“Whatever the fuck I want. Not like I don’t already.”

You moaned. “Soldier Boy—”

“I’m not pulling out, so you better be on the pill or say your damn prayers,” he growled, his hot breath kissing your skin. You were on the pill, but nevertheless your hips bucked at his words, pussy clenching around his cock. “Oh shit, you want that, don’t you?”

“Yes—oh my god!” you cried out, muscles cramping as your orgasm pulsed through you, pleasure stealing your breath, choking you gently enough to leave you dizzy. “Yesyesyes—fuck!” Your heart was beating so fast you thought it was going to explode in your chest, especially as he kept mercilessly pounding into you, chasing his own release. 

He soon came with a groan, his cock twitching inside you as he bottomed out, practically knocking the wind out of you with a particularly hard thrust. 

You felt empty and sticky when he pulled out, and you didn’t want to think about the poor soul who was gonna be cleaning the mess you and him left behind the following morning, because you sure as hell weren’t in any shape to clean up the cum that was leaking out of you and onto the floor.

You put your hands on your chest, trying to catch your breath as he stood over you. The guy hardly broke a sweat, and you felt like you just ran the New York City Marathon. Super stamina. God fucking bless America.

“Hey,” he said, waving his hand in front of your face. “You good?”

“Sure,” you managed to answer. “Except now I don’t know how I’m gonna walk out of here, let alone get home later.”

“The ride up to the 99th is quicker. And if you need more convincing about Miami—“

You pursed your lips, considering the work you still had left to do before you could reasonably call it a night. But you were tired, and admittedly drunk, and Soldier Boy was already hard again. “I might.”