CONCRETE

Bad omens, Erra, Hockey. 24. She/her

[windwoventhreads]

26/07/26 - Teuvo Teravainen & Sebastian Aho w/ The Cup

[cncohshit]

Ive cried about this at least 10 times today

[1994worldseries]

i love arm

[cncohshit]

I would fold for him so fast

[settsplitt]

Ehhauch.mp4

[cncohshit]

My last brain cell when im trying to think of something important

[missmisconduct]

On again, off again - Nikolaj Ehlers

summary: Nikolaj and you have been on again off again for years at this point. Then his move to Raleigh was supposed to be the end of it, but a playoff jacket and a series of (bad) decisions lead you to the ultimate dream in the end.

pairing: Nikolaj Ehlers x female!reader

word count: 5.8k

warnings/tropes: on again/off again relationship, sometimes friends with benefits, sometimes relationship, a little toxic relationship at some points, bad decisions

authors note: I had the idea for this when I wrote the other stuff for the stanley cup champions celebration series and it wouldn´t leave my head, so I brought it to life, hope you enjoy!

----

You had never really been able to explain what you and Nikolaj were to anyone else.

Not to your friends. Not to your families. Definitely not to his teammates´ wives and girlfriends whenever they occasionally crossed paths with you.

For three years, you had existed somewhere between relationship and habit.

Sometimes you spent months acting like a normal couple. You flew out to road trips with the other wags when your schedule allowed. He spent Christmas with your family one year. You left a toothbrush and some clothes at his condo in Winnipeg, and he kept buying the same shampoo you liked without ever mentioning it.

Then something would happen.

Never anything really dramatic.

Too many games. Too much travel. Once an argument about priorities. Once a missed call that ended up turning into four and suddenly you wouldn’t speak for weeks.

Then one of you would text.

Miss you or something equally as meaningful and everything started all over again.

Neither of you had ever promised the other forever and that was probably why the whole thing lasted so long.

----

When free agency opened in the summer of 2025, you sat beside him on the couch while he refreshed his phone ever thirty seconds.

He looked nervous. Actually nervous, not hockey nervous. Not game-seven nervous. Life nervous.

You handed him another coffee. “You´re going to wear your thumb out.”

“I´m already wearing my brain out.”

You smiled. “Same thing.”

He laughed and leaned against you for a second. For a moment, everything felt normal. Then his phone rang.

You watched him answer, watched him stand, and somehow, before he ever said the words, you knew.

The deal with Carolina was done.

He listened quietly, thanked whoever was on the other end, and hung up. Then he looked at you. “I´m going to sign with the Hurricanes.”

You smiled immediately, because that´s what you were supposed to do. “That´s amazing, Nik.”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

Neither of you moved, neither of you really celebrated, because both of you understood what the other was thinking.

Winnipeg had already been difficult, but Raleigh was an entirely different world.

----

Over the next week, after the deal was officially announced, people congratulated him constantly.

His parents. Winnipeg teammates. Fans. Reporters.

Everyone talked about opportunity and fresh starts. Nobody talked about the girl sitting beside him at dinner quietly wondering if she would fit into any of it.

Eventually, he brought it up to you.

You were lying in bed after midnight when he said it. “You know I could never ask you to move.”

You stared at the ceiling. “I know.”

“You have your life here.”

“I know.”

“Your job, your family, your friends.”

“I know, Nik.”

He turned toward you. “I mean it.”

“So do I.”

Silence.

Then you finally looked at him. “Would you even want me to come? Hypothetically of course.”

His eyes softened. “That´s not a fair question.”

“Answer it anyways.”

He sighed. “I don’t know.”

That hurt because it was honest.

You appreciated his honesty but it still hurt, because the truth was that you didn’t know either.

Three years of together and apart and together again.

Three years of never fully committing.

How could you suddenly ask the other person to change everything?

You reached for his hand. “I think we already know what to do.”

He squeezed your fingers. “Yeah.”

----

The last week before he left for Raleigh felt strange.

Not sad exactly, just a lot quieter than usually.

You still slept in the same bed, waking up tangled in each others arms, still ate dinner together, still watched movies, but there was a countdown hanging over everything.

Neither of you talked about it until the night before his flight.

You sat on his balcony overlooking Winnipeg. The sun had already disappeared.

“You know this is the end, right?” you finally asked.

He looked down. “Probably.”

“Not because we don’t care.”

“I know.”

“Just because…”

“We never figured out how to do this properly,” he finished.

You nodded.

He nodded.

And somehow that was supposed to be your final breakup.

No screaming, no tears, no accusations, just two people acknowledging what had been true for years.

You loved each other in ways that never seemed to fit.

----

When he drove you home later, neither of you said goodbye dramatically.

He carried your overnight bag to the door.

You stood there awkwardly for a second before he leaned down and kissed your forehead.

“Take care of yourself, okay?”

“You too.”

He smiled sadly before he turned around and left.

----

The first month without him surprised you.

You expected devastation. Instead, you mostly felt empty.

Which somehow felt worse.

You still reached for your phone before remembering. Still saved funny videos to send him. Still noticed things in stores that reminded you of him.

But you never texted and neither did he.

You followed his first few games with Carolina from a distance.

People online half loved him half already shat on him because he wasn’t producing from the get-go.

But he looked happy.

That should have made it easier but it didn’t.

----

By November, life had settled again.

You worked, saw your friends and pretended everything was normal.

Then the Hurricanes came into town to play the Jets.

You tried not to think about what that meant, you really tried. Until you opened Instagram and saw photos from morning skate.

Him.

Back in the city. Back where everything had happened.

You locked your phone and ignore it.

That evening, while highlights of the game played in the background of your apartment, your doorbell rang.

You weren’t expecting anyone, especially not at this time of the night.

When you opened, your entire body froze.

Nikolaj stood there. Baseball cap, grey hoodie. Hands shoved into his pockets, looking just a shocked as you felt.

For several seconds, neither if you spoke. Then he finally said a quiet “Hi.”

You blinked. “Hi.”

He smiled nervously. “I wasn’t sure if you would slam the door in my face.”

“I considered it.”

He laughed.

God.

You missed that laugh.

“What are you doing here?” you asked.

He looked embarrassed. “To be completely honest with you, I don’t know.”

“That’s not an answer, Nik.” The nickname slipped out without issue.

“I know.”

“Nik.” You repeated.

His shoulders dropped. “I missed you.”

The honestly knocked the breath out of you, because you had missed him too.

Terribly.

And apparently time hadn’t fixed any of that so, you stepped aside and invited him in.

----

The apartment suddenly felt too small.

He looked around like he hadn’t been there hundreds of times before.

“You moved the couch.”

You snorted. “That´s what you noticed?”

“It´s nice.”

You laughed quietly and just like that, some of the tension disappeared.

You talked for almost two hours after that.

About Carolina. About Winnipeg. About everything and nothing.

He told you about his new teammates. You told him about work.

Neither of you mentioned why he had really come, but you both already knew.

Eventually silence settled over the living room. Not the uncomfortable kind but the familiar kind that came with knowing someone for a long time.

He sat beside you almost still, close enough that your shoulders touched.

“Maybe this was a bad idea,” he admitted quietly.

“Probably.”

“But I still came.”

You looked over at him. “I still let you in.”

His eyes searched your face. “Tell me to leave.”

Both of you knew that you couldn’t.

Not after months of wondering if you would ever see him again. Not after three years of this impossible thing between you.

So, instead, you leaned forward and kissed him and for a few hours, everything complicated disappeared.

----

In the morning, reality returned quickly.

You woke up first, he was asleep beside you looking as peaceful as ever.

For one blissful second, you forgot, but then you remembered.

Carolina.

Distance.

History.

When he woke up a few minutes later, neither of you pretended.

He sat up and rubbed his face. “We really suck at this.”

You laughed softly. “The worst.”

He smiled, but it faded quickly. “Last night doesn’t fix anything.”

“I know.”

“I still live in Raleigh and you still live here.”

“I know, Nik.”

He sighed. “I don’t want to hurt you again.”

“You already have.”

His face fell.

“And I know I´ve hurt you too.”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

You reached for his hand. “But we knew what this was as soon as I opened the door.”

----

He left not soon after.

This goodbye hurt more than the summer one, because now you both knew that distance hadn’t solved anything.

At the door, he hugged you tightly and longer than usual.

“Take care of yourself,” he said again.

You almost laughed.

Same words. Same ending.

“You too.”

Then he walked away.

This time, neither of you looked back.

----

December passed.

Then January.

Then February.

No texts, not calls, no accidental likes on Instagram.

Nothing.

You told yourself it was for the best.

Maybe if enough time passed, the habit would finally break.

Maybe you could stop checking Canes scores. Maybe he would stop thinking about Winnipeg.

Maybe.

Then April arrived and with it came a package that you hadn’t ordered.

You frowned at the senders address. A place in Raleigh.

Confused, you carried in inside and opened it.

Inside was a leather jacket, when you turned it around you realized it was a Hurricanes playoff wag jacket.

Your size, the number 27 stitched on the side, Ehlers on the back.

You stared at it in disbelief for a second before you noticed the envelope that sat underneath.

Your name written in handwriting you recognized immediately.

Suddenly, your heart started racing, still, you opened it carefully.

The letter inside was short.

I know we are not together. I know I don’t have the right to ask you for anything. But I miss you. Not just when I´m lonely and not just when I´m back in Winnipeg. All the time.

I tried not contacting you because I thought maybe that’s what we needed. Turns out I was wrong.

We´re in the playoffs now and I keep wishing you were here in the stands with the other wags.

No pressure and no expectations. If you say no, I´ll understand, but if you want to come I´d really like you on my side.

Nik

Underneath the letter was a plane ticket to Raleigh for a few days from now.

You read the letter three times. Then a fourth. And suddenly, after months of silence, your phone buzzed with one singular message.

Nikolaj: Did the package arrive?

You stared at the screen, then the jacket in your lap.

Three years, hundreds of almost, multiple breakups, countless second chances.

You should have known better, but your fingers moved anyway.

I Yes.

Three dots appeared immediately.

Nikolaj: Are you angry?

You smiled.

I Ask me again after I decide if I like the jacket or not.

Nikolaj: If you want to hate something, hate the name on the back not the nice jacket.

And just like that, after months apart…he was back.

----

For almost two days, the jacket sat untouched over the back of your chair while you had read the letter too many times.

You started packing twice but unpacked both times before calling your best friend. Then hung up before she could tell you that you were insane.

Because she would. Everyone in their right mind would.

Three years of almost relationships. Three years of loving someone who never fit neatly into your life and now he wanted you to fly across the continent and step right back into it.

Every practical thought told you no, every emotional thought told you yes.

So naturally, so did nothing.

----

Nikolaj texted occasionally.

Never pushing or asking for a decision directly, just normal things.

Nikolaj: Practice sucked today.

Nikolaj: Svech says the jacket is ugly.

Nikolaj: I think I managed to burn pasta

You answered sometimes but sometimes you just left him on read too.

He never complained.

The playoffs started in less than twenty-four hours when you finally made your decision.

Actually, decision was the wrong word.

You were sitting on your couch at midnight when you suddenly grabbed your suitcase again and packed it with everything you would need then you spent the next four hours wondering if you had completely lost your mind.

----

The flight landed in Raleigh shortly before noon.

You stepped off the plane feeling confident, then immediately realized you had absolutely no plan.

You hadn’t told him you were coming and he was probably assuming you wouldn’t given you never let him know your answer.

You didn’t know where he lived or where you would even find him right now and suddenly you felt ridiculous.

You sat on your suitcase at baggage claim for ten minutes, then twenty. Eventually, you took a picture of an airport sign and sent it to him with no caption.

Thirty seconds later your phone rang.

“Nik?” you laughed.

“You´re here?”

You laughed again, more nervous this time. “I might have made a mistake.”

“Are you serious?”

“Possibly.”

“Don’t move.”

“Nikol…”

“Don’t move.”

Then he hung up.

----

He arrived 45 minutes later.

No hat, no attempt to hide, looking slightly out of breath.

The second he spotted you, he stopped walking.

You stood up.

For a moment, neither of you moved.

Then he crossed the remaining distance and wrapped his arms around you so tightly your feet almost left the floor.

“Oh my God,” he breathed.

You laughed into his shoulders. “Hi.”

“You came.”

“I know.”

“You actually came.” He pulled back just enough to look at you. “And you didn’t tell me.”

“I wasn’t sure until it was almost too late.”

He shook his head in disbelief. “You are unbelievable.”

“You broke several driving laws getting here, didn’t you?”

“Maybe.”

You smiled.

And then he kissed you, right there at arrivals, like he had been waiting months to do this again. Which, technically, he had.

----

The first round against Ottawa lasted four games.

Four wins.

Four increasingly loud celebrations.

The first game you sat awkwardly beside the other wives and girlfriend in matching jackets.

Everyone was friendly. Everyone assumed you belonged there because you had the jacket and the pass. Which somehow made you feel worse, because you didn’t know if you did.

After game one, Nikolaj found you outside the family room. “You okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Liar.”

Damn him for knowing you so well.

“I´m just trying to figure things out.”

He brushed hair away from your face. “So am I.”

By game four, Carolina completed the sweep.

The atmosphere in the arena was insane, and you found yourself screaming along with everyone else.

When Nikolaj skated over after the handshake line and pointed at you through the glass, you felt your heart do something dangerous.

----

Round two brought Philadelphia.

Another sweep.

Another four wins.

Another two weeks where you practically lived together.

At first, you intended to stay at a hotel. Instead, after your third night at his house, your suitcase never left.

His routines came back to you naturally.

Coffee in the morning, watching movies after games. Arguing over what to order for dinner.

It was frighteningly easy.

The evening after game two, you mentioned maybe heading home and he immediately looked alarmed. “Why?”

“I´ve already been here for almost a month, Nik.”

“So?”

“I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

He stared at you. “Overstay your welcome?”

You shrugged. “Nik…”

“No.”

You blinked. “No?”

“Stay,” he was quiet for a second, then added “Please.”

You laughed softly. “You can’t just order me around.”

“I´m not.”

He moved closer. “I´m asking, very politely.”

“Nikolaj…”

“I´m serious.” His voice dropped. “Please stay.”

You froze, because you had never heard him sound like that. Almost desperate.

“I miss you every time you leave,” he admitted quietly.

Your chest tightened. “You do?”

He looked a little embarrassed after that. “Unfortunately.”

You laughed and two days later everything was unpacked again.

----

The other women noticed, because of course they did.

But by the conference finals, it felt like you had known them all for years.

You rode to games together, shared dinner, tailgated, celebrated wins, but eventually curiosity won and you couldn’t even blame them.

After game one against Montreal, one of them sat beside you with a glass of wine. “So,” she asked casually. “How long have you and Nikolaj been together?”

You nearly choked before hesitantly answering. “We´re…complicated.”

“Ah.”

Someone else laughed. “That explains why nobody can figure you two out.”

You groaned. “Do the guys talk about it too?”

“Oh, constantly.”

You covered your face. “That´s horrifying.”

“Well, no one has answers.”

You laughed but honestly? You didn’t have answers either.

----

The players were just as confused.

One afternoon after practice some of them gathered at Nikolajs house, you heard laughter coming from the kitchen when you returned from lunch.

There were Frederik Andersen, Sebastian Aho and K´Andre Miller. And Nikolaj.

“Just ask her already,” Sebastian said.

“I´m not asking anything.”

“Bullshit.”

“You guys are obsessed.”

“We´re tired of trying to explain the situation to everyone.”

That’s when you walked in. “What situation?”

Three grown men immediately looked guilty and Nikolaj nearly dropped his coffee.

You burst out laughing at the scene. “Wow. You guys are terrible liars.”

Freddie grinned. “Can you explain to us what´s happening?”

“No.”

“Can he?” he asked, nodding toward his fellow Dane.

“Probably not.”

Everyone laughed. Except Nikolaj, who looked suspiciously red.

----

Carolina took the next four games after Montreal took game one and suddenly, they were Eastern Conference champions.

Four games to one.

Stanley Cup Final bound.

The celebration was chaos.

There was champagne everywhere, music blasting, players screaming and somehow Nikolaj still found you in the crowd.

He wrapped one arm around your waist and pulled you into the picture with the rest of the families.

Someone yelled: “Awww Nik and his girlfriend.”

You and him both froze, but neither corrected it or confirmed it.

----

The Stanley Cup final against the Golden Knights began and every game at Lenovo Center felt unreal.

White towels. Deafening noise. The entire city was buzzing and through it all, you remained beside him.

Game one.

Game two.

Game three.

And at some point, you just stopped questioning why and stopped wondering if you belonged. You simply existed beside him, like you always had.

The Hurricanes went up three games to two by game five. One win away from making history.

Then management announced that families would be flown to Vegas for game six “just in case” but you immediately planned on staying behind.

You weren´t family after all.

At least until Nikolaj cornered you in the kitchen. “You´re coming to Vegas.” It wasn´t a question.

You sighed. “Nik…”

“No arguments.”

“This could be huge for you.”

“Exactly.”

“You should probably know what we are before I fly across the country and potentially celebrate one of the biggest moments of your life with you.”

His expression softened. “I know.”

“You do?”

“Yeah.”

“Then why aren’t we talking about it?”

He looked miserable after you asked that. “Because every time we talk about it, we end up ruining things.”

You hated that he had a point.

He stepped closer. “Please come.”

“Nik…”

“Please.”

You looked away, because deep down you knew he wasn’t just asking about Vegas. He was asking for you, the same way he had asked you to stay a few weeks ago.

Maybe neither if you knew how to define anything, but you knew this, if Carolina won without you there, you would regret it forever.

“Okay,” you whispered.

His entire face lit up immediately and just like that, you were going to Vegas.

----

Game six was madness.

The entire arena felt hostile.

Vegan fans desperate to keep their season and the hope for the cup alive. Carolina fans desperate for this to end today.

Everyone was standing, everyone was screaming.

Your hand shook the entire third period.

It was two nothing Canes but you had seen in these very playoffs that no lead was ever save.

Vegas pulled their goalie with a few minutes to go and suddenly the puck landed on Nikolaj´s stick.

The entire arena seemed to pause, you stood up alongside everyone else. He shot. The puck slid perfectly into the empty net.

Three-goal lead.

Game basically over.

Stanley Cup Champions.

You started crying immediately. Not pretty crying either, actually sobbing.

Beside you, the other wives and girlfriends screamed. People hugged and Champagne already appeared from somewhere.

But all you could see was number twenty-seven raising both arms.

Stanley Cup Champion Nikolaj Ehlers.

----

The moment families were allowed onto the ice, everything became blurry.

You nearly slipped twice. Someone shoved a championship hat onto your head.

Players screamed around you. Children ran everywhere.

And then you found him.

Or rather…he found you.

He dropped everything he was carrying and wrapped you in his arms before either if you said a word.

You were crying, he was laughing and then suddenly he had tears in his eyes too.

“We did it,” he whispered.

You laughed through tears. “You did it.”

“We did it,” he corrected immediately. “We.”

Neither of you questioned it. Not tonight. Tonight, didn’t belong to complicated conversations. Tonight belonged to the joy of finally reaching a livelong dream.

Photographers snapped pictures while he held you against him. exactly like they did for every other couple.

At one point he kissed you while teammates whistled and cheered. You buried your face in his shoulder from embarrassment.

“Ignore them,” he laughed.

“Impossible.”

A few minutes later he handed the cup to another player, then immediately came back to you.

His arm went around your waist. Both of you laughing, neither if you pretending.

For one night, you stopped caring about the unanswered questions. About labels. About the history. About the fact that eventually reality would return.

Because tonight he was a Stanley Cup champion and for the first time in a long time, that felt like enough.

----

The celebration somehow became even louder after the ice.

Buses took everyone back to the hotel long enough to shower and change before the entire organization moved to one of the clubs in Vegas.

By the time you arrived, half the team already looked exhausted and completely wired at the same time.

Nikolaj looked like the happiest person in the world. You had never seen him smile this much.

He introduced you to people you had already met a dozen times as if he couldn’t remember who knew you and who didn’t.

“This is her,” he kept saying proudly, like that would explain anything.

Champagne flowed endlessly. Veterans became emotional while younger guys became louder and eventually everyone became very, very drunk.

Including Nikolaj.

Around two in the morning he stood on a couch with several of his teammates singing something that barely resembled a song.

At three-thirty, he spent ten minutes explaining how much he loved hockey to a security guard.

By four, you decided that your Stanley Cup champion needed to go to bed.

“Come on,” you said, appearing beside him.

He looked up immediately. “There you are.”

“I´ve been here all night.”

He smiled lazily. “Pretty.”

You laughed. “You´re drunk.”

“Very.”

“Time to go, champ.”

He frowned dramatically. “But the party…”

“The party will continue tomorrow.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

He nodded seriously. “Okay.” then he pointed toward the cup. “But I need to say bye first.”

You burst out laughing. “To the cup?”

“Isn’t it beautiful.”

You shook your head but still, you let him spend another thirty seconds staring lovingly at hockey´s most famous trophy before finally getting him back to the hotel.

----

The elevator ride was quiet. Mostly because Nikolaj looked dangerously close to falling asleep standing up.

When you finally reached the suite, he immediately kicked off his shoes and collapsed face-first onto the bed.

You smiled. “At least take off your jeans.”

“No.”

“Nik,” you laughed.

“No energy.”

You sat beside him and laughed softly. “Stanley Cup champions are surprisingly lazy.”

He rolled onto his back. “I´m not lazy.”

“Really?”

“No.”

“You can´t even move.”

“I´m celebrating.”

“By becoming part of the furniture?”

He grinned, but then suddenly his expression changed.

Not to sad exactly but something very emotional before he sat up.

“Nik?” you asked softly.

“I forgot something.”

“You forgot a lot of things.”

“No.”

He stood unsteadily and disappeared into the bathroom. You followed him cautiously. “What are you doing?”

He was already kneeling beside his suitcase as you stared. “Nikolaj?”

He pulled the zipper open with all the concentration of someone trying to solve world peace. Then he reached inside and your entire body froze.

Because there was a ring box.

“Nik,” you breathed.

He turned around with the most serios expression you had seen all night. “I love you.”

Your eyes widened.

He nodded emphatically. “So much.”

“Nik…”

“And I don’t want to do this anymore.”

“Do what?”

“Everything.”

He waved vaguely.

“The breaking up, the distance, the not talking. All the stupid stuff.”

He opened the box to reveal a stunning diamond ring. Your heart stopped. “Nikolaj…”

“Marry me.”

You stared at him, because this man was swaying. His hair was a mess and his shirt was half untucked. He had champagne stains on his sleeve but somehow he looked completely sincere.

“I love you,” he repeated. “You make me the happiest man alive.” Then he frowned. “I had a speech.”

“You did?”

“Yeah.” He looked almost offended. “I forgot it though.”

You almost laughed. “Nik, you´re drunk.”

“No.”

“You absolutely are.”

“Maybe a little.”

“You won the Stanley Cup six hours ago.”

“Best day ever but you could make it even better.” He smiled. “Marry me?”

Your chest tightened, because underneath all the alcohol and exhaustion, you knew he meant it. But you also knew this wasn’t how either if you deserved this moment to happen.

You crouched in front of him. “Come here.”

He looked confused when you gently too the box from his hand and closed it.

“You don’t mean no?”

“No.”

His eyes widened. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Then why…”

“Because you´re drunk.”

He looked deeply offended again.

“I know you are.”

“I love you,” he repeated.

“I know.”

“And I want to marry you.”

Tears unexpectedly filled your eyes.

“I know that too.”

You kissed his forehead. “If you still want to do this when you´re sober ask me again tomorrow.”

He blinked slowly. “Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow.”

Then he finally nodded. “Okay.”

Five seconds later he asked: “Do you think I´ll remember this?”

You smiled. “Probably not.”

“I hope I do.”

He barely made it back to the bed before he collapsed and fell asleep immediately.

----

The next morning, sunlight poured through the curtains after way too little sleep.

You woke up first.

For several seconds, you forgot where you were. Then everything came rushing back.

 The cup.

The celebration.

The club.

The proposal.

You looked over to the other side of the bed. Nikolaj was still asleep beside you.

Part of you hoped he wouldn’t remember. Not because you didn’t want him, but because you wanted him sober and certain.

You wanted him to choose this without being high off adrenaline and champagne and the biggest night of his career clouding everything.

He shifted beside you, then opened his eyes and immediately groaned. “My head hurts.”

“Good morning,” you chuckled.

He buried his face in the pillow. “Never let me drink again.”

“Noted.”

He sat up slowly and froze immediately. “Oh no.”

Your heart skipped but you didn’t want to assume for now. “What?”

He stared at you in horror. “Oh no.”

“You´re scaring me a little.”

“I remember.”

You blinked. “What?”

“The ring.” He covered his face. “Oh my God.”

You couldn’t help bust start laughing while he looked mortified.

“I proposed to you while I was drunk out of my mind.”

“You did and yes, you were very drunk.”

“I had a whole speech.”

“You mentioned that.”

“I forgot the whole thing.”

“You mentioned that too.”

He groaned again. “I´m never drinking again.”

You reached for his hand still laughing. “You don’t have to be embarrassed, not with me.”

He lowered his hands slowly. “I should be.”

“You won the Cup.”

“And then proposed like an idiot.”

“You proposed like a drunk Stanley Cup champion.”

He sighed. “That somehow makes it worse.”

Then he looked at you carefully. “You didn’t say no.”

“No.”

“You really didn’t?”

“No.”

His shoulders relaxed slightly before he stood up. “Wait here.”

You laughed. “Where am I supposed to go?”

He disappeared into the bathroom without a reply.

This time, when he returned, he looked nervous. Even more nervous than you had seen him on free agency day.

He sat beside you.

“No alcohol?”

“Well, much less than last night.”

“No championship delirium?”

“Also, not as much as last night.”

You smiled softly, then he reached for your hands and suddenly all the joking disappeared.

“I don’t know why it took me this long,” he admitted quietly. “I don’t know why we spent three years making everything so difficult.”

You listened silently.

“I think we both got comfortable with almost.” He smiled sadly. “Almost together, almost committed, almost happy. But every time something happened, every good thing, ever bad thing…” he squeezed your fingers. “You were the person I wanted.”

He took a deep breath. “When I left Winnipeg, I wanted you to come with me. When I came back to Winnipeg that first time in November, I wanted you. When we won the conference final, I looked for you first. And when we won the cup…” his voice cracked slightly. “You were the first person I wanted to hold.”

Tears filled your eyes.

“I don’t want almost anymore.” He swallowed. “I want all of it. The boring days, the difficult days. The moving, the arguing, the making up. A future.” A pause. “A future with you.”

He laughed softly. “And now I actually remembered my speech.”

You laughed through tears. “Much better than the first one.”

“I hope so.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled the ring box out again. this time his hands shook. “I love you. No conditions, no breaks, no disappearing. No more almost.”

He opened the box and looked directly at you. “Marry me?”

You started crying immediately, which made him panic.

“Oh god. Are those bad tears?”

You laughed. “No.”

“Good tears?”

“Very good.”

He visibly relaxed. “Okay.”

You shook your head, smiling through tears before rushing out a soft “Yes.”

His eyes widened. “Yes?”

“Yes, Nikolaj.”

He laughed in relief, then he pulled the ring out of the box and slipped it onto your finger. Before he could say anything else, you kissed him.

Long and slow and certain.

When you finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours. “So…”

You smiled. “So?”

“I guess people will finally have an answer now.”

You burst out laughing. “Sebastian will be unbearable.”

Nikolaj groaned. “Freddie too.”

“And all the wives.”

“And all the wives,” he repeated.

You admired the ring on your hand for a second, still unable to believe it.

Three years.

Three years of almost.

And someone, after all of it, he chose you and this time you officially chose him right back.

----

A week later, life was slowly returning to normal.

Celebrations were over, the parade happened, the days with the cup would not start for another few weeks.

The two of you were at his house in Raleigh and for the first time you weren’t there for anything other than to spend time with him.

Not for hockey.

Not for celebrations.

Just for life.

Normal life.

Which somehow felt stranger than the Stanley Cup.

You stood in his kitchen one morning making coffee. Still wearing one of his shirts. Still half asleep.

And suddenly it hit you. This wasn't temporary anymore.

You lived here now if you ignored the millions of things you had to figure out.

Not officially.

Not permanently yet.

But you stayed.

And nobody questioned it.

Not him. Not you.

He walked into the kitchen and wrapped his arms around your waist, burying his face in your neck. "Morning."

"Morning."

He rested his chin on your shoulder. "What are you thinking about?"

"Us."

He smiled against your neck. "Dangerous subject."

"Very." You turned around inside his arms. "Are you scared?"

He considered the question honestly. "A little."

"Me too."

He nodded. "Good."

"Good?"

"If you weren't scared, I'd think something was wrong with you."

You laughed. "Fair."

He kissed you softly. Then looked at the ring again. Still like he couldn't believe it.

"Best decision I ever made."

"The proposal?"

He grinned. "Actually, winning the Stanley Cup was nice."

You shoved his shoulder. "Nikolaj!"

"I'm kidding!"

He laughed and pulled you back. "Mostly."

You rolled your eyes. "Unbelievable."

"You're marrying me."

"Unfortunately."

He gasped dramatically. "Rude."

You smiled.

Then his expression softened. "You know what my favorite part of all this is?"

"What?"

"We don't have to say goodbye anymore."

And suddenly you realized he was right.

No airports. No distance. No wondering when you'd see each other again. No pretending you didn't miss each other. No more almost.

Just this.

The two of you. Messy. Imperfect. Completely ridiculous.

But finally…Finally…Together.

----

Late that night, after dinner and a movie neither of you had actually paid attention to, you found him standing alone on the back patio.

The Stanley Cup ring ceremony wasn't for months.

Training camp wasn't for months.

For the first time in forever, there was nowhere he had to be.

You stepped outside. "What are you doing?"

He looked up at the stars. "Thinking."

"Dangerous."

He smiled. "Exactly."

You moved beside him.

After a moment he said quietly: "I almost lost you."

Your smile faded. "Nik…"

"No, really." He looked at you. "When I left Winnipeg. When we stopped talking. When I got on that plane after November. I thought that was it."

You reached for his hand. "So did I."

He nodded. "And if that package had been too much…"

"It wasn't."

"But it could have been."

You squeezed his fingers. "But it wasn't."

Silence settled between you.

Comfortable.

Easy.

Then he smiled slightly. "Do you know what my drunk self got right?"

"What?"

"I really don't want to spend another second without you."

Your eyes filled unexpectedly. "Good."

"Good?"

"Because you're stuck with me now."

He laughed. "That's my line."

"Too bad."

Then he kissed you. Slowly. Softly.

And then somewhere inside the house, both of your phones buzzed at the exact same moment.

You pulled apart.

Nikolaj checked his phone first. Then immediately groaned.

"What?"

"It's Seth."

"What did he do?"

He held up the screen.

A group chat with half the team.

Seth had sent one message.

Since you're finally engaged, can we stop referring to her as "the situation"?

You burst out laughing so hard you nearly cried.

Nikolaj sighed dramatically. "I hate them."

[missmisconduct]

last UPL request (for now hehehe) can i pls request him and reader going to a fancy team event for the sabres and she is all dressed up looking fab. and at the event UPL is just so mesmerized and realizes how in love he is with her and that he is going to marry her 🥹 thanks jo!!!

Feel free to send in more if you´d like!!

Mesmerized – Ukko-Pekka Luukkonen

The invitation had arrived in a thick cream envelope with the Sabres logo embossed in silver.

It was the organization´s annual gala, a polished evening where players, coaches, staff, and sponsors traded skates and jerseys for tuxedos and champagne.

You had stood in your apartment holding the invitation in one hand and your phone in the other, tying not to overthink the fact that Ukko had asked if you would go with him.

Not because he needed a date. Not because he felt obligated to invite you.

Because he wanted you on his side and somehow that felt bigger than anything he had ever said.

When he picked you up that evening, the winter sky over Buffalo was deep blue and dusted with stars. Snow edged the sidewalks in soft white banks, and the city lights reflected off the ice-crisp streets.

You took your time getting ready.

Your dress was a rich sapphire color, fitted through the waist and flowing softly to the floor.

The fabric caught the light whenever you moved while your hair fell in polished waves over your shoulder and your makeup was elegant without trying too hard.

You wore silver earrings that brushed your neck and heels that made you feel taller, steadier and more confident.

When you looked in the mirror, you felt beautiful.

Not because you were trying to impress him, but because, for the first time in a while, you saw yourself the way he always seemed to.

There was a soft knock on the door.

When you opened it, Ukko stood there in a black tuxedo, broad shoulders filling the doorway, his blond hair neatly styled.

He looked impossibly handsome, but the expression on his face was what stole your breath.

He simply stared.

For a moment he forgot to speak. His brown eyes moved over you as if he was trying to convince himself that you were real.

“You look…” He exhaled, one hand raising to the back of his neck. “Wow.”

You laughed softly, suddenly shy. “That´s all?”

He stepped closer, still looking stunned. “No,” he said. “That´s just all my brain could manage to produce.”

The tenderness in his voice made your cheeks warm. “You look beautiful, rakas.”

You smiled up at him. “You clean up pretty well too.”

He grinned, but there was something almost reverent in the way he offered his hand.

----

On the drive to the hotel, he kept glancing over at you at red lights.

Each time you caught him, he smiled like he had been caught doing something he didn’t mind at all.

The event was held in one of Buffalo´s grand downtown hotels.

Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, scattering warm light over white tablecloths and polished glassware.

A string quartet played near the entrance, and the room shimmered with expensive dresses, tailored suits, and the low murmur of conversation.

The moment you stepped inside, heads turned.

Ukko felt it too.

He had settled at the small of your back as he guided you through the crowd and all he could thing was that you were the most beautiful woman there.

Not just because of the dress. Not because your smile lit up every face you turned toward. But because you were entirely yourself.

----

You greeted everyone with warmth and ease.

You laughed with players´ wives and girlfriend. You remembered names. You made even the most formal conversations with sponsors feel natural.

Ukko watched you talk with Rasmus Dahlin and his fiancée, your eyes bright and your hands moving animatedly as you told a story.

He should have been listening to the sponsor introducing himself beside him. Instead, he kept watching you.

He had seen you in sweatpants on the couch, hair piled on top of your head. He had seen you in his oversized hoodies, stealing his fries. He had seen you half-asleep, blinking at him from beneath the blankets.

And he had thought that you were beautiful every single time but tonight was different.

Tonight, you looked like something out of a dream and somehow, impossibly, you were with him.

You returned to his side a few minutes later and slipped your hand into his. “You okay?”

He blinked, as if surfacing from somewhere far away. “Yeah.”

You tilted your head. “You´ve been quiet.”

He raised your joined hands to his lips and pressed a kiss to your knuckles. “Just busy looking at you.”

Your smile softened. “You´ve been doing that all night.”

“Can you blame me?”

You laughed, and the sound settled into his chest immediately.

----

Dinner was served. Speeches were made. Awards were handed out. But Ukko barely remembered any of it.

He remembered your hand resting on his thigh beneath the table, the way you leaned closer to whisper comments in his ear and how your laughter sparkled brighter than the crystal centerpieces.

But he especially remembered the moment it all became crystal clear.

----

After dinner, the band began to play, and couples drifted onto the dance floor.

Ukko held his hand out to you. “Dance with me?”

You placed your hand in his without hesitation.

On the dance floor his arm circled your waist, drawing you close immediately. Your free hand rested on his shoulder, and the two of you moved slowly to the music.

Around you, the room seemed to dissolve.

There was only the warmth of your body against his. Only your eyes. Only the small smile on your lips as you looked up at him.

“What?” you asked softly.

He shook his head, though his gaze never left your face. “Nothing.”

“You´re staring again.”

“Can´t help it.”

Your fingers brushed the back of his neck.

He felt his heart stumble.

For months, maybe longer, he had known he loved you. He knew it in quiet moments. In grocery store aisles. On lazy Sunday mornings. When he heard your key in the lock the first time after a long road trip.

But standing there with you in his arms, with your dress catching the light and your eyes shining only for him, the feeling deepened into something even steadier.

It was not just love. It was certainty.

He wanted this forever.

He wanted every team event, every holiday, every ordinary Tuesday.

He wanted to grow old with you.

He wanted your shoes by the door and your books on his shelves.

He wanted children with your smile.

He wanted to hear your laugh in ever home he would live until the end of his life.

He wanted to marry you.

The realization struck him with such force that he actually stopped moving.

You looked up, amused. “You forgot how to dance?”

He let out a breathless laugh. “No.”

His thumb brushed your waist. “I was just thinking.”

“About?”

He studied your face.

The answer hovered on the tip of his tongue.

About how I´m going to spend the rest of my life loving you.

But he wasn’t ready to say it yet. Not here, not with a ballroom full of people.

So, he leaned down and kissed your forehead instead. “About how lucky I am.”

Your expression turned tender. “You know,” you whispered. “I was just thinking the same thing.”

His chest tightened.

When the song ended, he didn’t let go immediately.

He rested his forehead against yours and closed his eyes, focusing on your soft breathing. Feeling your hands against him.

And he knew with a calmness that surprised him, that this was the woman he would one day call his wife.

----

Later, as the evening would down, you stepped onto the hotel balcony for fresh air.

The city stretched below, glowing against the dark.

Ukko joined you, slipping his jacket over your shoulder. You smiled and wrapped it around yourself. “Thank you.”

He stood beside you, one arm around your waist.

For a while, neither if you spoke.

The silence was easy. Comfortable.

The kind of silence that only existed between two people who understood each other completely.

You looked up at him. “Did you have a good time?”

He smiled down at you. “The best.”

Your eyes searched his face, as though sensing there was something else. “What?”

He brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. “I don’t think I told you enough how beautiful you are.”

You laughed softly. “You told me plenty.”

“Still, not enough.”

Your expression softened. The city lights reflected in your eyes.

He cupped your cheek, his thumb tracing your skin. “I love you.”

The words were simple, but they carried that full weight of what he felt.

Your smile was immediate and radiant. “I love you too.”

He kissed you slowly, deeply, as if sealing a promise only he fully understood.

When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours and in that quiet moment, with your hands tucked inside his jacket and your heart beating steadily against his, he made a vow to himself.

One day, he would ask.

One day, he would place a ring on your finger.

One day, he would stand before everyone you loved and promise you the life he already knew he wanted.

Because tonight had shown him something undeniable.

He was hopelessly and completely in love with you, and you were not just the woman he brought to a team event.

You were the woman he would marry.

[canesbian]

my hurridanes…

[cncohshit]

This picture is everything to me

[stormsies]

doing my civic duty as the resident KK enjoyer and sharing these

[stormsies]

KK WITH DA CUP

📸: erin.taking.pics & cory lavalette

[cncohshit]

This is everything to me

[mattymartin]

↳ ANDREI SVECHNIKOV | CANES STANLEY CUP PARADE | 6.20.26

[cncohshit]

Alexander Nikishin knew what the people wanted

[andreisvechnikov]

Aura.

[cncohshit]

This picture is literally the best thing thats ever happened to me

[missmisconduct]

yay!!! i’m so happy to hear you will write for UPL :) i have a few requests for him i will send in! ok so he is like hugeeee (6’5” 🤭) can we pls get a fic where reader and UPL are having a wholesome snuggly day and he is just like a big cuddly teddy bear and reader feels so safe with him xoxo

Frist Sabres request!! Looooove adding cute goalies to my request list and let´s be honest he´s one of the cutest ones

Cuddles – Ukko-Pekka Luukkonen

The apartment was quiet except for the soft hum of the heater and the faint rattle of snow against the windows.

You had woken up tucked against Ukko´s chest, halfway buried beneath a mountain of blankets and one very large Finnish goaltender.

His arm was heavy across your waist. Heavy enough that you could barely move under it, honestly, but you never minded.

There was something comforting about the weight of him. At six foot five, Ukko took up space without trying to, all broad shoulders and long limbs and giant hands that always looked slightly out of place holding delicate things.

Or holding you.

The room still sat in the pale blue haze of early morning. His hair was messy from sleep, blond strands falling over his forehead, and his breathing was slow and deep against the top of your head.

You stayed still for a while just listening to it. The steady rise and fall of his chest. The heartbeat under your cheek. Warm, safe and quiet.

His fingers twitched lazily against your hip before his voice came out rough with sleep. “You awake?”

“Maybe?”

A sleepy laugh rumbled through him. You felt it more than you heard it.

“You´re stealing all the blankets.”

“You´re stealing all the oxygen,” you mumbled back.

“That seems less important.”

You smiled against his shirt.

His hand slid slowly up your back, large palm smoothing over the fabric of your sweatshirt. It was absentminded, affectionate, the kind of touch that said he wanted to keep you close even half asleep.

“Are you warm enough?”

You looked up at him. “You´re basically a human furnace.”

“Good.”

His eyes were barely open. Puffy with sleep, soft around the edges.

You thought people who didn’t know him probably found him intimidating at first. He was enormous, after all. Tall enough that you had to tilt your head back to look at him properly. Strong enough to carry two grocery bags in one had without noticing.

But moments like this felt private somehow, because this version of Ukko-Pekka Luukkonen belonged only to you.

Sleepy. Gentle. Cuddly.

He pulled you closer suddenly, like he decided the half inch between you was unacceptable.

“Ukko,” you laughed quietly, squished against him now.

“No escaping.”

“I wasn’t trying to escape.”

“Good.”

He pressed a lazy kiss to your forehead before burying his face in your hair again.

Outside, the snow kept falling. Inside, neither of you moved for nearly an hour.

----

Eventually, hunger dragged you both out of bed.

Well. Hunger dragged you out of bed.

Ukko only followed because you threatened to make breakfast without him.

“You´d burn the apartment down,” he said, trailing behind you toward the kitchen in gray sweatpants and a hoodie.

You gasped dramatically. “Rude.”

“You almost started a grease fire last month.”

“That happened one time.”

“You screamed for me like the building was exploding.”

“It was stressful!” you said, swatting at him with a towel.

He laughed again, low and warm, and wrapped both arms around you from behind while you opened the fridge.

Even half awake, he folded around your easily. Chin on your shoulder, hands linked loosely over your stomach.

You melted backward against him immediately.

“Needy,” he teased.

“You started it.”

“Mhm.”

His nose brushed the side of your neck. You could feel his smile there.

“What are we making?”

“Pancakes.”

“Dangerous choice.”

“You´re banned from judging me.”

“You love when I judge you.”

You turned your head enough to narrow your eyes at him. His expression was infuriatingly innocent. Then he kissed you before you could argue.

Slow. Sleepy. Warm.

The kind of kiss that made you forget what you were saying halfway through.

When he pulled back, you blinked at him. “…I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“No,” you admitted softly. “I really don’t.”

His whole face changed when you said things like that. Not dramatically. Just subtle enough that you had learned to notice. The slight softness around his eyes. The tiny smile he tried to hide.

Ukko was affectionate constantly, but receiving affection still seemed to catch him off guard sometimes. Like he never fully expected it.

He squeezed you once before finally letting go so you could start breakfast.

Though “letting go” was generous.

He stayed directly beside you the entire time. One giant hand resting on your waist while you mixed batter. Leaning against your shoulder while you cooked. Stealing chocolate chips every time you looked away.

“You´re unbelievable,” you laughed.

“I´m helping.”

“You´re eating the ingredients.”

“Someone has to make sure they´re still good.”

“You´ve taste tested twelve times.”

“You want consistency or not?”

You laughed so hard you nearly dropped the spatula. His grin appeared instantly at the sound.

You loved making him laugh. Loved how big he smiled when he forgot to be reserved. Loved how gentle he always became around you.

There were days after games when he came home exhausted and sore and mentally drained, and even then, he softened the second he touched you.

Like his body knew how to relax around you.

This morning felt like one of those days. Easy, quiet and safe.

----

By the time breakfast was finished, snow covered the balcony railing outside in thick white layers.

Ukko glanced toward the windows. “We are absolutely not leaving this apartment today.”

“Agreed.”

“Good.” He pointed toward the couch. “Movie days.”

“You just want excuses to cuddle.”

“I´m not denying that.”

----

The couch barely fit him even though it was already larger than most.

You thought that every single time the two of you curled up there together.

His legs stretched almost the full length of it, and when you settled against his chest beneath the blanket, you felt tiny in comparison.

Not in a bad way, never in a bad way.

His arms wrapped around you easily, one draped across your middle while the other rubbed slow circles into your arm.

The movie played mostly ignored in the background.

You were far too distracted by him. By the warmth of his chest against your back. The scrape of his fingertips over your skin. The occasional press of his lips against your temple whenever he thought you weren’t paying attention.

“You´re being clingy today,” you murmured.

“I´m always clingy.”

“That´s true.”

“Don’t act like you don’t like it.”

You tilted your head back enough to look at him. “Maybe a little.”

His mouth curved immediately. “A little?”

“Okay. A lot.”

“There it is.”

You rolled your eyes affectionately before settling back against him.

The blanket shifted when he adjusted, and suddenly both his arms tightened around you completely like a bear hug.

“Oof,” you laughed.

“Comfortable?”

“I can’t feel my legs.”

“So yes.”

You snorted quietly.

For a while, neither of you spoke.

The apartment dimmed softly under the cloudy winter sky. Snow light reflected pale against the walls. The heater hummed steadily nearby.

Ukko’s fingers traced lazy patterns over your sleeve.

You closed your eyes.

There was something uniquely calming about being held by him. Maybe because he was so big. Maybe because he handled you with such careful tenderness despite it.

He could lift you effortlessly. Could pull you into his lap with one arm. Could reach things from the top shelf while you stared in annoyance from below.

But he never made you feel small in a way that mattered.

Only safe, like nothing bad could touch you while he held you.

“You falling asleep?” he asked quietly after a while.

“Maybe.”

“You should nap.”

“You should nap.”

“I’m already comfy.”

“You’re using me as a pillow.”

“And you’re using me as a mattress.”

“Fair point.”

You smiled faintly.

His hand slid up into your hair then, fingers combing gently through it.

Slow.

Careful.

Your chest ached unexpectedly at the softness of it.

Because Ukko loved quietly. Steadily. Not through grand speeches or dramatic gestures.

Through little things.

Through checking whether your feet were cold. Through making coffee for you before you woke up. Through pulling you against his chest during thunderstorms because he knew loud noises made you anxious. Through reaching for your hand automatically everywhere you went.

You turned slightly in his arms until you could look at him properly.

“What?” he asked softly.

“Nothing.”

“You’re staring.”

“You’re pretty.”

His entire face pinked immediately. It was one of your favorite things about him.

“You say that like it’s surprising.”

“It is when it comes from you.”

You blinked. “What does that mean?”

He shrugged a little, suddenly shy in the way he sometimes became when conversations turned sincere. “You just…” He looked down at you. “You see me different.”

Your heart squeezed. You reached up, brushing your fingers lightly along his jaw. “Well,” you said quietly, “I think you’re beautiful.”

His eyes softened instantly.

You watched emotion move through his face slowly, subtle but real. Like he never quite knew what to do with tenderness directed at him.

“You’re staring again,” he murmured.

“Can you blame me? You’re enormous.”

A startled laugh escaped him. “That’s your compliment?”

“You’re like…” You gestured vaguely. “A very cuddly tree.”

“A tree?”

“A really nice tree.”

He laughed harder this time, head tipping back against the couch. The sound filled the apartment warm and bright.

You grinned helplessly. “There’s the smile,” you said.

“What smile?”

“The one you get when you laugh really hard.”

“You’re making things up.”

“Nope.”

You reached up and poked lightly at his cheek. “It’s cute.”

His expression softened all over again. Then, before you could react, he pulled you fully into his lap.

You squealed quietly as the blanket tangled around both of you.

“UKKO!”

“You were too far away.”

“I was literally touching you.”

“Could’ve been closer.”

Now your legs draped over his while his arms locked around your waist securely. Completely trapped.

Not that you minded. At all.

You tucked your face into the side of his neck with a quiet sigh. He smelled like laundry detergent and maple syrup from breakfast.

One of his hands rubbed slowly up and down your back.

“You okay?” he asked after a minute.

The question was gentle enough that your chest tightened.

“Yeah.”

“You got quiet.”

You hesitated before answering honestly.

“I just feel safe with you.”

The words settled between you softly.

Ukko went still for half a second. Then his arms tightened around you carefully. Like he wanted to hold that confession close.

“You are safe with me,” he said quietly.

Simple. Certain. No hesitation at all.

Something emotional pressed suddenly at the back of your throat. Because you believed him completely. You always would.

He noticed your silence immediately. “Hey.” His voice dropped softer. “C’mere.”

Not that there was anywhere else to go. Still, he shifted you closer somehow, one hand cradling the back of your head against his chest.

His heartbeat thudded steadily beneath your ear.

“You know I got you, right?” he murmured.

You nodded against him. “Always.”

The sincerity in his voice nearly undid you.

You wrapped your arms around him tighter instead. “I love you.”

The words came muffled against his hoodie. But he heard them. You knew because his entire body softened around yours instantly.

“I love you too,” he said.

Then after a beat: “Even when you almost burn our apartment down.”

You laughed wetly into his chest. “There he is.”

“Had to make you smile.”

You tilted your head up enough to look at him. His expression was unbearably fond. Soft blue eyes. Messy blond hair. Sleepy smile. Big warm hands holding you like something precious.

You thought maybe this was your favorite version of happiness.

Not loud. Not dramatic. Just this. Snow outside the windows. Blankets tangled around your legs. Ukko curled around you like he could shield you from the whole world if necessary.

He leaned down, pressing another kiss against your forehead. Then another against your temple. Then your cheek.

You laughed quietly. “What was that for?”

“You looked cute.”

“I’m literally wearing your giant hoodie and haven’t brushed my hair.”

“Exactly.”

You rolled your eyes affectionately, but your face warmed anyway.

He grinned lazily. “Nap now?”

“Only if you hold me the whole time.”

His eyebrows lifted slightly. “You say that like there’s another option.”

You smiled. Then settled deeper against him as he pulled the blanket higher around both of you.

The movie kept playing unnoticed.

Snow kept falling outside.

And tucked safely against the steady warmth of him, you finally drifted asleep in the arms of your giant, gentle teddy bear.

[reidsmemory]

puppy love

bradley bradshaw x fem!reader

summary: adopting a retired police dog from the local station seemed like a good idea. late night cuddles on the couch, early morning barks to start the day, and long runs in the park are now a normal part of bradley's routine. but what happens when his furry friend takes off one morning, leash slipping through his hand, and instead barreling towards someone new?

warnings: 18+, mdni, smut, unprotected sex, semi-public sex (not really but kinda), dry humping (i'm a freak), hand job, fingering, reader is shorter/smaller than bradley (he looks down at reader and picks reader up), strangers to lovers (guys don't fall for the cute guy with a dog ruse unless it's bradley), no use of y/n

word count: 11.1k

a/n: been a fiend for bradley ever since watching topgun again in theaters. that mustache does things to me... also this a very bradley centered fic! loved exploring him as a character in this! enjoy! :)

masterlist

Bradley doesn't know what stopped him on his way off base. Usually, he's barreling towards the exit, can't wait to get home and start his weekend, even if that means reruns of old sitcoms and quiet nights on his back patio alone. Maybe it was the bright pink of the poster, contrasting against the dark navy blue, kaki tan, and army green of the base. Or maybe it was the fact that the piece of paper was dead center on the communal bulletin board. But, ultimately, Bradley's pace slows as he gets closer to the board and catches sight of a picture of a group of German shepherds, all lined up in perfect order, but still somehow looking so happy.

Adopt me! Come by the Coronado Police Station this weekend to meet your new best friend!

Bradley pauses as he reads over the text, taking in the place, date, and time. Tomorrow morning, a fifteen-minute drive from his small two-bedroom house. He doesn't know why, but he reaches into his back pocket to take out his phone, snapping a quick picture. Bradley looks over his shoulder, seeing if anyone has caught him in the act. And just as quickly as he had stopped, he was off again.

The drive home should feel like any other; wind in his hair, aviators over his eyes blocking the rays of the setting sun, and soft classic rock from the radio. But Bradley couldn't help but feel like something was missing.

Phoenix went on and on today about how her family is visiting her for the weekend, saying how excited she is to see her parents again. Bradley smiled at her, genuinely happy at the news.

Bob had talked about staying in with his girlfriend this weekend, saying they were going to try out a new recipe of banana bread they saw on the Food Network earlier this week. Bradley had hummed, telling Bob to save him a slice and to bring it in on Monday.

Jake had even told Bradley about the long run he was going on with a few of the newest TOPGUN class recruits, saying he was going to put them through hell this weekend. Bradley just laughed and grimaced at this, thankful his time in the program hadn't been led by someone as ruthless as one of his best friends.

But as the keys hit the small dish on his counter, Bradley couldn't help but tune into the creaks and groans of his house. Nothing else, just the small and quiet sounds. Even as he cooked dinner that night, the boiling of the pasta seemed drowned out by the stillness of the kitchen, of everything that surrounded Bradley. The episode he had seen at least three times now seemed to go in one ear and out the other. Bradley only heard his breathing and the occasional dripping of the faucet.

The hot summer nights were grueling. Not only due to the heat of his sticky skin against the now warm sheet, but also because Bradley could hear every little bug from the window above his bed. Cicadas seemed to chirp, grasshoppers seemed to sing, and if he listened closely, he could even sometimes hear the buzzing of the fireflies. Too quiet, but so loud. Loudness from the wrong sounds, the ones nobody noticed. Loudness from the beating of his heart from underneath his skin. Loudness of the crinkling sheets beneath his grasp. Loudness from the unsteady breath that escaped his lips.

Reaching for his phone, Bradley looked at the most recent picture in his camera roll. Swiping out and clicking the clock icon, he set an alarm for 8 AM sharp.

જ⁀➴

Bradley pulls into the parking lot and takes in the sight around him. Cars are already packed in the lot, despite it only being 5 minutes since the adoption event started. Minivans and SUVs are taking up most of the spots; his Bronco seems out of place among the other cars. The California sun is barely starting to warm up the air, but Bradley knows in an hour he'll be thankful for the loose Hawaiian shirt he wears.

Off to the right side of the building, he can hear children laughing and dogs barking. Tucking his keys in his back pocket, he makes his way towards the noise.

Like he suspected, families are standing around chatting with volunteers in bright pink shirts, the same pink on the poster from the base. Kids are wide-eyed and fascinated with all of the dogs they see. It's not just German shepherds, but smaller dogs too, and all types of breeds. He wonders why his poster only had the proud-looking line-up when there were so many other options.

But like a man on a mission, Bradley peers over the crowd of people and spots K-9 in big black letters near the middle of the scene. Sending small smiles and tapping his left hand anxiously on the side of his thigh, Bradley weaves through the crowd. Taking in the well-behaved group of dogs before him, he settles down a bit. There's only one volunteer over in this area, a woman with her back turned away from him. It only settles him more, giving him the space to really look over the animals. Some of the dogs are panting, as if being out on the grass has somehow exhausted them. Others are playing with each other, rolling around, and showing their bellies. But one dog sits near the woman, curled in on itself, head tucked into her side.

Without meaning to, Bradley watches this dog, missing the way the woman looks at him fondly.

"He's just a little shy, but I promise he's a good boy," your voice snaps him out of his trance.

Bradley doesn't think he's ever thought so hard about what to say next. You have a soft look on your face, eyes darting back and forth between him and the dog that sits so close to you. The morning light is peeking out from beneath the tree branches, golden rays dancing across your skin. Bradley is glad he doesn't have his sunglasses on right now.

"What's his name?" Bradley walks closer to you, and you turn your body towards him. The dog next to you perks up a bit at the movement.

You smile a little before saying it, "Ducky." Seeing the way his brows raise, you laugh a bit. "He's just a bit of an odd pup out, thought the name suited him."

Bradley couldn't help but feel like it was fate. Ducky and Rooster. It was almost laughable.

"You said he's shy," Bradley led on, looking up to you as he sat on his haunches next to the dog.

"Yeah," you hummed. "Definitely my sensitive boy out of the group. These guys are retiring K-9, but Ducky has a bit of a soft side, wasn't trained properly as a puppy." Your voice seemed to waver a bit at the end of your sentence.

Bradley watched as your throat bobbed before you spoke again. He could tell where this conversation was going, but didn't want to interrupt. The look in your eyes was fiercely protective.

"He was abused by his first owner. So he has some PTSD tendencies. Hyper vigilant, can get really avoidant and shy, whines a lot when he's feeling anxious," you tell Bradley, petting the dog softly.

But nothing in your expression tells him that you don't care for this dog, that you think he's broken because of all of these things. It makes his heart beat a little quicker.

"But Ducky's a good boy. You just have to put some work in to see that." As you say his name again, Ducky peeks out from where he's hiding in your side. You smile a bit at this, ruffling his ears. "You wanna say hi to the sweet man?" you ask in a soft voice, like you're talking just to the dog, like Bradley's not right next to you, hearing every word.

He holds his hand out slowly, knowing not to move too fast. "Hey, Ducky. I'm Bradley." As soon as he says it, he feels a bit silly. But the way your smile deepens makes him continue. "Looking for a home, buddy? I got a nice backyard."

"Oh, he'll love that. Runs around like a bunny when he's all riled up," you told him with a smile on your face, now looking only at Bradley.

Bradley smiles at that, only imagining the life this dog could bring to his quiet house.

Finally, Ducky nudges his outstretched hand, sniffing it first, then licking it softly. He hears you gasp lightly at the action, nothing big though, trying not to disrupt the moment.

"He never does that," you offer. Bradley can see your head shaking slowly as Ducky continues to push into the man in front of you.

Bradley feels his heartbeat steady. It's quiet around him. Even with the squealings of the children around him and the barking of the other dogs, Bradley only hears the little laps of Ducky's tongue against the skin on his hand. But this quiet is something he can get used to, something that grounds him.

"It's a 150 dollar adoption fee, right?" Bradley asks, not tearing his eyes away from the dog in front of him. Ducky's big brown eyes seem to bore into his soul, making him ask the question before even thinking about what he's saying.

You bite your lip before speaking, trying to hide the big grin on your face, even though you know Bradley can't see it. "Um, no fee for him. I already took care of it."

Your words confuse Bradley. He looks over to you for an answer but sees clearly why you had paid the fee yourself.

Quickly, a hand comes up to your cheek as you wipe the stray tear away from your face. "I just didn't want anything to deter someone from taking him home." Bradley's heart clenches at this as you offer him a smile and you fan your eyes.

"Well, what do you say, Ducky? Wanna come home with me?" Bradley finds himself talking to the dog again, not feeling as silly this time around.

જ⁀➴

Bradley looks at the large, fluffy cream colored dog bed lying next to his and the brown wicker box overflowing with colorful chew toys with a small smile. Ducky had been a little hesitant to leave your side at first when he realized what was happening, but with some whispered assurance and a kiss on the tip of his wet nose from you, he jumped into Bradley's Bronco, settling in the passenger seat.

Ducky had whined when Bradley peeled out of the parking lot. The man had glanced over at Ducky as he stuck his head out of the window and looked in your direction. His eyes found your figure in the mirror, blue denim, and a sweet pink-colored top catching his eye. He saw the way you brought one hand up to your heart, and as the other wiped at your cheeks. You loved this dog, every bit of your being told him that.

Bradley couldn't help but feel bad as the dog's whines continued throughout shopping for essentials, the drive home, and the arrival at his house.

Ducky had opted to lie in Bradley's brown leather chair as soon as they got into the house, and he decided to take it as a good sign. But as the day continued, Ducky had barely left the spot, and small cries were coming every few minutes.

Opening up the sliding glass door to his backyard, Bradley called Ducky over, beckoning him to come out and play. But the swings of the bright blue and purple rope and the energetic movements from Bradley weren't doing anything to move Ducky from his spot.

Even when making dinner, Ducky had barely budged from his spot on the recliner. With the wafting scent of the food on the stovetop, Bradley was sure that Ducky would appear by his side sooner rather than later. But nothing came of it, even with the temptation of a seared ribeye with Ducky's name on it.

He had tried speaking softly like he had seen you do earlier that day, but Bradley didn't want to push the poor dog more than it seemed like he already did. Instead, he turned on the television and sat in the company of the shy dog.

It wasn't until Bradley was tucked under his sheets that he heard the faint noise of shuffling paws on his hardwood floors. Ducky sat next to the side of the bed, noticeably avoiding lying on the dog bed next to him. Bradley laughed quietly at this, furrowing his brows a bit.

He wasn't quite sure what to do, to be honest. Growing up, he never had dogs or cats or anything of that sort in the house. He figured it was hard enough being a single mother of a toddler; the added stress of an animal just wasn't feasible in his situation.

Sure, his friends growing up had dogs. He recalled throwing around a tennis ball with one of his friends and their black lab in their backyard almost every day during the summer before 7th grade. But Bradley had never lived with a dog. Never had to deal with big brown eyes looking at him as he lay underneath the sheets.

"You okay, buddy?" he asked in the otherwise quiet room.

To this, Ducky started whining.

"Oh, come on. I thought we got over that a few hours ago," Bradley groans, rolling up to sit in his bed now.

Bradley was man enough to admit it was hard to drag Ducky away from you during the adoption this morning. Ducky's whines as you gave him a few last pets and spoke gently to him, did tug on Bradley's heartstrings. Bradley was sure the dog next to him couldn't stop thinking about your kind eyes and sweet disposition; he certainly couldn't.

Bradley's hands were rougher than yours. He felt the softness as you handed the leash to him this morning. You had explained to him a routine that Ducky usually had with the unit, your hands animated as you looked between the pair in front of you with a smile. Occasionally, one would come down to rub the top of his head. Ducky was probably missing that, missing you.

On top of that, when Bradley smiled at the dog next to him, he couldn't help but think of how goofy he looked compared to you. Your smiles were gentle, drawing him and Ducky in from a few feet away. He could tell you had that kind of magnetism, that kind of energy that just took hold of people and didn't let go. Bradley struggled to think of what the dog in front of him thought as he shot him another small smile.

And Bradley couldn't let go of the way you switched from talking to him to Ducky. How you had described Bradley with a soft tone and warm look in your eyes. You didn't even know him. How did you settle on "sweet man" from what Bradley was giving you this morning? It was a little too mind-boggling to think about for too long.

Shaking away the memories of this morning, Bradley was brought back to the dog that sat at his side. With a small sigh, he pointed to the bed next to him. "That's your bed, Ducky. It's time to go to sleep."

This only got him louder whines.

Bradley sighed and shook his head. He felt clueless.

"Do you want to come up here?" he tried, patting the comforter near his feet.

Within seconds, Ducky was jumping onto the bed and taking claim to the opposite side of the bed.

"Unbelievable. I try to get you to listen all day, and this is what you respond to," Bradley laughed as he looked at Ducky with a smile, not able to get mad at the dog as he cuddled up similarly to this morning with you.

The whines had stopped now, replaced with steady breathing and a small huff. The buzzing of the bugs outside his window that seemed so loud yesterday was now quiet. Bradley was only keying in on the ups and downs of Ducky's chest, something more grounding than he realized.

"Alright, Ducky. Time for bed," Bradley spoke again to the dog, stroking the fur on his back gently. Lying his head back down on his pillow and continuing his movements, Bradley was asleep within minutes. Soft snores from both him and Ducky fill the house with a comfortable, peaceful energy.

જ⁀➴

It was a bit daunting at first. That first week with Ducky was definitely a learning curve. Trying to adjust his routine to best suit the dog's needs hadn't been quick or easy.

The first morning, Bradley woke up to licks on his face and playful growling. At first, Bradley thought Ducky wanted attention, some pets, and cuddles. But as soon as he sat up in bed, Ducky was bolting to the front door.

Sitting in front of the door with the green leash in his mouth, Ducky whined as Bradley slowly made his way down the hallway.

Still adorned in his slippers and ratty college football shorts, Bradley closed the front door and took off with Ducky as the sun rose in the distance. After a few minutes of tugging Bradley down the block, Ducky broke out into a trot, urging Bradley to keep up with him.

That's how Bradley ended up running barefoot in his neighborhood at 5 in the morning, slippers in one hand and leash in the other. He had passed Mrs. Greene, Mrs. Johnson, and Mrs. Nguyen on their morning aerobic walk with a small nod and smile. The older ladies had laughed at the scene, something Bradley couldn't help but join in on.

An hour later, they ended up back at Bradley's house. This time, Ducky barked happily as he opened the sliding glass door out to his backyard, running circles in the yard much like you had said he would. Bradley found himself watching with a disbelieving smile on his face, wishing he could somehow tell you that you were right.

A few weeks later, Bradley runs shirtless, tennis shoes on his feet now, with Ducky on an early May morning. The sun is just starting to peak out from the greenery lining the trail they take every morning. Bradley's grateful for the cool morning air as sweat wicks at his lower back and hairline. A combination of the morning dew and perspiration rolls down the muscles of Bradley's body as he jogs.

Suddenly, Ducky pauses once they reach the familiar park. Bradley looks down at his dog and then up to see what he could possibly be stopping for.

Seeing nothing but the group of older women with small hand weights and crows in the trees, Bradley bends down to Ducky's level. "What's up, buddy? What do you see?"

But as soon as Bradley settles down next to the dog, Ducky's leash is slipping through his fingers. He reaches out to grab onto anything, his dog, his collar, his leash, but ends up grasping at the air instead. Ducky is taking off in a sprint before him.

Rising to his feet and going after him. Bradley swears under his breath and calls out loudly, "Ducky!"

He finds himself weaving through the playground, wood chips kicking up in his wake. But his eyes widen as Ducky zeroes in on a group of women at the edge of the park.

He sees them all stretched down in downward dog as Ducky gets closer and closer. Again, Bradley calls out, "Ducky!"

At this, he sees a few heads turn towards the sound of his voice. But only one woman looks in the direction of the blur of fur coming straight for her. A yelp is heard as Ducky barrels into her, knocking her from her place on the mat. Gasps are heard from the surrounding women, and Bradley's chest heaves as he sprints to catch up to his dog and pull him off the stranger.

But as he gets closer, his heart calms at the sound of laughter. Ducky is lying on top of this poor woman, but at least he's not attacking or barking or anything of that sort. No, he's just licking and nuzzling into the figure on the ground.

"I am so sorry. I don't," Bradley gets out quickly, stuttering a bit as he looks around at the group with an apologetic smile. "He never runs away like that, I'm sorry. Ducky, get over here!"

But the dog stays put, and the laughter doesn't stop. But finally, Ducky is pushed up from the figure on the ground, and Bradley's heart races once more when he sees your face peeking out from behind the ball of fur.

"Oh, it's you." He doesn't know why he says it, but it comes from him like a breath of relief.

You laugh at this, not even taking in the way Bradley scolds himself at the odd behavior.

"And it's you and Ducky!" Your attention is on the dog in front of you, petting him and smiling brightly, only glancing up at Bradley once before returning to the panting dog rather than the panting man.

Bradley kneels down next to you, sweat still rolling down his skin. He doesn't catch the way your cheeks flush as you take in his build. Muscles are a mix of the perfect summer tan and red rosy dusting, no doubt from the sprint he took off on to get here. His arms strain as they go behind him, veins jumping out from his skin. From this position, his tight stomach is also on full display, ridges and divots begging for your attention.

What you don't realize is that Bradley is doing the exact same thing to you, drinking you in fully. You're in flow yoga pants, calves peeking out from the wide-legged flare of the pants. And your top half is barely hidden, only wearing a sports bra, pretty and pink like the top he had seen you in a month ago. The straps dig into your shoulders, and Bradley takes in the swell of your breasts as he follows the scoop of the top.

A bark from Ducky snaps you both back into reality. Some of the women around you laugh.

"You guys seem to be doing well," you spoke softly, voice just as sweet as Bradley remembered.

"Mm, yeah. We've got our routine now, he's been great," Bradley tells you, reaching to pet his dog.

You watch the action fondly, seeing the way Ducky leans into his touch now. The moment is sweet and completely yours, at least that's what it feels like as you and Bradley make eye contact and share small smiles. But a voice clearing is heard as you and Bradley remember where you are.

You turn to a young woman next to you, speaking quicker than Bradley has ever heard before from you. "I'm gonna go with them, I'll be back soon." She nodded at you with a gleaming look in her eye that Bradley didn't quite understand. But you turned quickly towards him, grabbing Ducky's leash and apologizing to the other women around you.

As soon as you had walked away from the group, they resumed their positions, some of them craning their necks to watch the scene a few feet away from them unfold.

"I'm so sorry about that, again," Bradley told you, grimace on his face as you handed him the leash.

But you just shook your head and smiled. "No, no. It was nice seeing you guys again. I was wondering how he was doing with you," you told him. Bradley hoped you didn't catch the way he swallowed hard at your words. Leaning down a bit, your hand came down to Ducky's face. "But you like the sweet man, huh? I knew you would."

Bradley's cheeks flush at the repetition of your description of him, yet again.

The sun paints everything a nice golden color, pinks in the sky still dancing a bit in the distance. But Bradley can't peel his eyes away from you, and it seems like you are having the same problem.

"I should probably get back." Your head is pointing in the direction of the class, now moving through another pose.

"Yes, yeah. Sorry," he doesn't know why he apologizes, but the smile on your face doesn't make him think about it for long.

"Well, bye, Ducky. And bye..." you lead off, looking for him to pick up the end of your sentence.

"Bradley," he says, hoping you say it back to him.

"Bye, Bradley," you tell him, turning away from the pair, but not before sending them one last glance over your shoulder. And Bradley doesn't realize how long he stands there and hangs onto your words, only focusing on the way his name sounded coming out of your mouth. It had never sounded better, sounded sweeter from you.

Begrudgingly, he turns, ushering Ducky to follow him.

"I know, Ducky. Come on," he says, starting off in a slow jog as his dog turns back and begins to follow him. But as the day continues, Ducky's whining starts up again, and Bradley can't help but think of you.

જ⁀➴

Pool balls clack up against each other as Bradley misses yet another wide-open shot.

"Jesus, Rooster," Jake laughs loudly. "Missing your dog so much you can't even focus on one little game of pool?"

It was partly true. It was Bradley's first night out since getting Ducky; he had been opting to spend the nights and weekends at home with the dog rather than out drinking with the squad.

But before Bradley could defend himself, mouth already opening to fire back, Bob had cut in, "No, he's definitely distracted because of the girl."

Bob sipped his soda innocently as the group of pilots turned in his direction with peaked interest.

Looking at Bradley, Bob grimaced; he was always a little loose-lipped after his 3rd soda of the night. "Shoot. Sorry, Bradley."

This set off a chain of questions from the group as Bradley's head hung low, hand coming up to the back of his neck to rub harshly at the skin.

Bradley had confessed his feelings to the WSO earlier this week, not being able to get the image of you out of his brain the entire weekend after Ducky had run you down in the park. He just had to tell someone, and Bob seemed like the logical choice. Smart, level-headed, in a stable relationship. But the words from the WSO only sent him into a spiral as he had finished describing you.

"Sounds like your perfect woman."

Bob's voice seemed to be on repeat the entire week. And God, he was right. You were perfect. More importantly, Bradley felt like he was going through withdrawal. Every time he looked at Ducky, he thought of you. He reasoned that getting out of the house and spending some time with his friends would be good for him.

Evidently, his secret being outed wasn't what he had in mind for tonight.

"Idiots, shut it!" Phoenix's voice rang out above the others. The group was now silent, all looking to the woman. "What girl?" she asked hesitantly.

With a sigh, Bradley's shoulders slumped. "The woman who I got Ducky from. I ran into her again last week, doing yoga at the park on one of our morning runs. And I don't know," he says, face twisting, not even sure why he's volunteering this information to his friends. "I just... I can't stop thinking about her."

The group is silent, understanding and hearing the sincerity in Bradley's voice.

Jake lets out a whistle at this. "Let's get you another drink, lover-boy." And at this, the group seems to hum in agreement.

The blonde clamps a hand down on his shoulder, guiding him to the bar.

"And you don't have her number?" Jake asks as they weave through the crowds of people.

"No, man. I mean, I don't even know her name. The adoption paperwork happened quicker than I expected, and I was just standing there like a dumbass the second time," Bradley grumbles, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.

"Yikes. Any chance she's gonna do yoga again this week?" Jake asked as they sat at two open seats.

"I looked, it said the yoga happens the first Saturday of every month. So, I just have to wait," Bradley explained, feeling a little embarrassed at the admission.

"A month?! Good luck, my friend. You've gone crazy after only a week," Jake laughed. Bradley rolled his eyes at this and groaned, knowing Jake's words held some truth to them.

"Hello, gentlemen. I've got a drink here for you, Lieutenant Bradshaw," Penny's voice makes Bradley's head snap up. Her hand is pointing in across the bar, and when he follows it, he can't help but swear.

"Holy shit," Bradley laughs, turning to Jake with a smile and wide eyes.

"Holy shit, that's her?" Jake asked, looking at you and your friend at the opposite side of the bar, taking in the way she poked your sides and laughed.

"That's her," he spoke breathlessly. Penny grinned at the scene unfolding in front of her.

"Go, dumbass. Go!" Jake pushed him off the barstool, both hands guiding him in your direction.

Bradley recognized the girl sitting next to you, the same one at the yoga class the other day; she was probably your best friend if he was guessing. The way you smiled at her, cheeks flushing as she spoke, and sent you a wink made Bradley giddy. She grabbed her purse and hopped off the stool, gesturing for him to come take her spot before squeezing your hand and leaving.

"Hey," he says, sitting next to you, disbelief on his features.

"Hey, you," you tease back. "Are you in the Navy?"

Bradley takes in the way your eyes narrow at him, like you're trying to put pieces together. He nods and smiles, "I am, TOPGUN graduate."

"So you saw the poster I put up? For the K-9 unit?" You were smiling brightly now, like you had guessed correctly.

"I did. The pink's what got me." Bradley's eyes met yours. This conversation seemed different than all the other you had in the past. Before, you were calm and collected, but here you were excitable and giggly.

"I totally thought you were a firefighter," you spoke honestly. "I put the K-9 posters up at the base, the fire station, and places like this," your finger wagged as you spoke, gesturing to the bar.

"Disappointed?" he asked, a teasing smile on his face.

You held your hands up in faux surrender. "No! Not at all. Impressed actually."

He grinned at this, settling into the conversation more and more. "And what do you do? Not a police officer, right?"

"No, vet actually. I just work pro bono with the police department, specifically for the K-9 unit. Those guys are hard workers, and usually get roughed up after big jobs," you told him with a small smile.

Bradley put together some pieces of his own. How you knew so much about Ducky, why you had gotten so close to him. You had probably gotten to see the pup at his lowest.

Bradley nodded, "Now I'm impressed." You smiled wider at this, laughing at his words.

For the first time since sitting with you, Bradley fully took you in. Your denim shorts that rode up just a bit and your white tank top, the V-neck framing your collarbones and chest perfectly. Your cheeks had a slight blush to them; he couldn't tell whether it was from him or from the fruity drink you seemed to be working on.

Again, you did the same thing. This time, though, Bradley was in a tight white T-shirt and jeans that seemed to strain against his thick biceps and thighs. His hair wasn't as windswept as it had been that day in the park; now it was pushed back slightly, a single curl coming down on the left side of his face.

The squad watched as the two of you talked, Jake practically skipping back to the group to tell them the good news. Every time they glanced over, you and Bradley had gotten closer and closer, fully leaning into each other.

You both sported matching smiles and flushed cheeks the entire night, despite letting both of your drinks sit and become lukewarm. The alcohol couldn't be to blame for the way you were acting.

They saw how Bradley's eyes softened as they met yours. How his shoulders relaxed after each laughing fit. How he opened himself completely in front of you.

You had talked about everything. It seemed to flow so easily out of Bradley, even the hard things. When you asked about his family, you must have noticed the way his face dropped slightly, instantly placing a supportive hand on his thigh. He had told you about his family, the squad, about Maverick. It was nice. You asked questions, not the kind that he had an automatic response for, but ones that made him think.

"Who on the squad is most like a sibling to you?"

"What dish instantly brings you back to childhood?"

And his favorite, "What's your favorite story about your dad?"

He asked you about school, and you indulged him in crazy stories from your early days in the profession. How you had worked out on a farm in Wyoming one summer and helped with the births of calves. It had been a lot more physically exhausting than you would've imagined. How you had studied in Australia for an exchange year, learning all about marine wildlife and how to care for them. The way your eyes lit up when you told him about a baby turtle hatching you had witnessed had him giddy.

You had told him about all the adventures you had gone on and all the ones you wanted to do in the future. Swimming in Baja, Mexico, with the Whale Sharks was at the top of your bucket list, and while Bradley was a bit scared of deep waters like that, he had to admit it didn't sound as scary if you were going to be by his side.

In exchange, he told you a few things about his time in the academy. The risks he had to take on missions, the close calls that happened more often than he would like. He saw the pain this job caused his mom, and he didn't want you to go into this without knowing the risks. But the way you bit your lip and told him that you thought what he was doing was so brave made his heart race and a wide grin break out on his face. You had hit his shoulder lightly at this, saying you were serious, but Bradley just smiled wider.

"Is there anything else I can grab you two tonight?" Penny asked, wiping down a glass as she looked at the pair, effectively popping their bubble.

"Oh gosh, I'm sorry. We stayed way too late," you spoke, digging into your wallet to pull out some bills to give the kind woman.

"Sorry, Penny," Bradley chuckled, handing her a handful of cash before you could even finish fumbling with you wallet. Your eyes met him, mouth about to open to argue, but he just offered you a hand as he hopped off the barstool.

"Goodnight, you two," she called as you both walked out with sheepish smiles.

You hadn't dropped Bradley's hand as you led him through the parking lot to your car. He relished in the warmth and softness; the feeling was vaguely familiar as he recalled the earlier touches from when you had first met.

"This is me," you told him, as moonlight danced across your features. Bradley couldn't help but run his eyes over your face, thinking to himself how beautiful you looked.

"Can I get your number?" he asked brazenly, a tad louder than he needed to. You giggled at this but nodded regardless, hands reaching for his phone as he stared at you.

Despite the cold breeze that came from the ocean just a few meters away from you both, Bradley felt a deep warmth spread in his chest. He opened your car door, closing it softly as you waved through the window. And once you backed out of your spot, Bradley found himself smiling all over again at the paw print stickers on your back window.

જ⁀➴

3 months later...

You and Bradley sprawled out on his couch as the movie finished up in front of you, Ducky sitting by your feet. Lying on Bradley's chest, you couldn't help but listen to his heartbeat beneath you.

These past few months with Bradley had been nothing short of perfect. He had texted you the morning after you had sat at the Hard Deck for hours, asking if you were free for dinner that same night. You remember laughing at his eagerness to yourself, but agreeing nonetheless.

He appeared at your door at 6:30 PM sharp, taking you out to a nice dinner on a beach patio. You teased him about not bringing Ducky, saying you thought they were a package deal, but you quickly paused the teasing after seeing how nervous he was by the way his cheeks flushed brightly.

He asked you about your career out here, only really talking about school last night with you. He said he wanted to learn more about you now. It was more thoughtful than you had expected.

Halfway through the dinner, you moved your chair over to Bradley's side of the table, something that caught a glare from the hostess. But you had to, as you scrolled through pictures and pictures of animals on your phone. You told him each of their names and all the little quirks they had, told him about the family you had worked with, and how much each of these animals meant to people. You hadn't noticed, but he smiled the entire time, not really looking at your phone but instead at the way you lit up when you spoke about the animal you've worked with.

When the date wrapped up, you told him that you'll just have to see his dog another time, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before you closed the door to your apartment. He hadn't seen you peek through the curtains, but you saw the way he pumped his fists like a dork while walking to his car. You couldn't help but fall even harder for the man.

Two days after your first date, Bradley had asked you to meet him in a little coffee shop near your apartment. He had apologized countlessly for the timing, seeing as he had requested 6 AM as the time, saying it was okay if you wanted to wait for the weekend, but his training schedule was just a little hectic at the moment. But you insisted it was okay, saying you had your own share of early mornings too and that you wanted to see him.

As he walked you to your car after a quick coffee and pastry, you smiled at him. Leaning against your car, you tugged him down by the collar of the familiar plain white tee he wore, pulling him in for a kiss. Bradley's hands found purchase on your hips, fingers giddy against your scrubs.

It was the fifth date, and both of you opted for a night in, where he promised to cook for you. It had also been the first time you had been in his apartment, Ducky clinging to your side the entire night.

Bradley had asked you to be his girlfriend before dinner was even finished, too distracted by the way you sat on the countertop to focus on the food simmering around him. You laughed as he flushed from the question and the sound of the smoke alarm going off, but ultimately said yes with a smile as he leaned down, caging you against his firm chest and the cabinets, to capture your lips in a deep kiss before waving a towel in front of the alarm. You couldn't help but laugh as you moved to open the sliding glass door to let the smoke out of the little house and to get some fresh air for yourself, too, after feeling how Bradley's hands rested on your thighs.

Recently, though, you had been having your fair share of sleepovers with the tall aviator. The first time he had slept over, you had shared one too many glasses of wine over sushi takeout from your favorite place downtown. After glancing at the clock and the empty bottle between you, you asked quietly if he wanted to spend the night.

Bradley hadn't ever seen you so shy before, but he figured the rosiness of your cheeks definitely matched his own and said nothing. Instead, he nodded, kissing your forehead sweetly as you further pushed into his hold.

He remembers feeling your soft face up against his bare chest as you dozed off, not being afraid to lean into his side once you had settled under the covers. The smell of your shampoo and lotion was strong, wafting off of you after your shower. Bradley lay there for a few minutes. Not daring to close his eyes, he instead wanted to take you in as you slept on top of him. The combination of your sweet smell and soft skin had the man reeling.

Now you lie on the couch at his apartment, and Bradley sees your eyes blinking away sleep as you curl up to his side. With a kiss pressed to your hair, your eyes widened as Bradley ushered you to the bedroom. Big hands coming up to your sides to support you, strong chest pushed against your back to guide you.

It was the first time you had slept over at his. But after grabbing a quick shower, inspecting all of the hair and body care products he had available, you took your place in bed. Bradley's sheets were softer than yours, and you wondered why it had taken so long to sleep over at his.

But before you were about to call out and ask him, the answer came jumping onto the bed next to you, taking Bradley's spot. You laughed softly as Ducky turned on his back, urging you to rub his tummy.

Getting out of the bathroom, with nothing but a tight towel around his waist, Bradley groaned. You giggled at this, but Bradley shook his head you and Ducky all cuddled up already.

Walking into the small closet on the other side of the room, your eyes tracked Bradley. The way the small towel around his hips was working to show off his deep V-line had you squirming in your spot on the bed. You watched his back muscles push and pull as he rolled his neck and stretched a bit while walking. Maybe you could offer to work out the knots; it'd be a win-win situation for you and your boyfriend.

As he emerged from the closet in nothing but a pair of boxers, you urged yourself to calm down. It wasn't like it was your first time seeing him in this state; you did have sleepovers at your apartment quite often. But it was the first time that you could actually do something about it.

There had been countless times when you and Bradley had been pretty handsy, but all of them seemed to be interrupted. Whether it was an emergency call from the clinic or an alert on Bradley's phone that Ducky had knocked over another vase in the house, something always tore you away in those moments.

You had felt Bradley's frustration, seen it firsthand. The way his jaw ticked each time, and his hands got all grabby before either of you had to leave. You didn't blame him, often finding yourself rubbing your thighs together after your time together was interrupted. Maybe even having a wandering hand shoot down your panties if he was the one who had to go.

But tonight you might have him all to yourself, whether that means deep kisses or holding each other tightly and finding sleep. That was until Ducky refused to move.

"Come on, Ducky, off the bed tonight," Bradley told the dog, standing over him.

"You let him sleep on the bed regularly?" you asked with a playful look on your face. Bradley caught your tone quickly, sending you a lighthearted eye roll.

"Yes, because I love my dog," he spoke, ruffling Ducky's ears.

"But what's the big bed for then?" you questioned again, smile growing bigger with every second.

Bradley wanted to lean over and kiss it off your face. But with the big dog in his way, he just shrugged. "He didn't like it."

You giggled at this, Ducky turning to you at the sound. "Gosh, he's a big softy, huh?" you told Ducky in a sweet tone, something that made Bradley suck his teeth and grin.

But with Ducky's attention elsewhere, Bradley was able to shift the dog to the end of the bed. Getting under the covers, Bradley reached for you automatically. Instead of feeling the cotton of your pajama pants that you usually wear, he instead felt your warm skin.

Seemingly watching the confusion spread across his face, you offered an explanation, "Your sheets are nice. And it's a little hot out."

If nice sheets and 90-degree weather were what it took to get you in the little lacy pink underwear your wore now, Bradley would buy a set in every color and run his heating system even on hot nights like tonight.

But instead, he just hummed, fingers tracing over the lacy trimming of your panties.

On top of this, you wore one of his old Navy shirts. Not expecting to sleep over, you had limited options available. Bradley had never been more thankful.

"Let's go to bed, pretty girl," Bradley told you as he saw the way your eyes started to blink closed again. You nodded sweetly at this and settled under the covers as he turned off the lamp on his nightstand.

Settling under the covers, Bradley's big hands found your stomach, pulling your back into his chest. From this position, sure, his hands could roam all over you, and he could touch anything that begged for his attention. But what stopped him in his tracks was the smell of his body wash on your skin.

It made logical sense. You had showered before getting in bed while he washed up the dishes and straightened the living room, but it didn't hit him until this very moment that you were fully his. The woman he had pined over for a month, not even knowing your name, only remembering your kind eyes and soft touch. Now, you were in his bed, falling asleep next to him in his shirt after washing yourself with his body wash.

What did he do to deserve you? You who cared for animals so much that you made a career out of it. You who held his hand and kissed away his tears when he finally told you about what happened to his father. You, who at every chance were unapologetically yourself, either dancing in the kitchen while making dinner or sobbing your eyes out while watching Marley & Me for the hundredth time.

He loved you. Bradley realized in that moment that he loved you. More than he had ever loved anyone like this before.

At the thought, his hands had squeezed your waist tightly, and you stirred next to him.

"Baby, are you okay?" you asked, voice laced with sleep.

Letting his grip on you loosen, he was quick to come down and kiss your neck in an apology. "Sorry, just thinking about you. Didn't mean to wake you up."

You hum, shifting against him slightly. Your neck is now on full display, and Bradley just couldn't help himself.

Feeling his warm mouth work against your sensitive neck made you squirm against him. Bradley's mouth was relentless, biting and licking underneath your jaw and down the side of your throat. Your breath hitched as he moved a spot near your pulse point, chest rising and falling dramatically.

Bradley's hands wrapped around your stomach once more, but this time, one of his hands snaked underneath your shirt. "Can I touch you like this?" his voice was deep, breath hot against your ear.

"Yes, please," you whispered.

Suddenly, his mouth was back on your throat, and your hips pushed back further into his now hard length. His hand came up to grab your tits. They were in the perfect position for Bradley, who was able to pinch and roll your nipples in between his big fingers.

"Oh gosh, Bradley," you huffed, eyes fully rolled back into your skull as his hand worked against your puffy nipples and he ground his length into your ass.

"Yeah, baby, feels good?" he asked in a cocky coo, watching the way you bit down on your bottom lip and nodded up and down at his words.

Your mouth opened, not quite knowing exactly if you could speak with the way his touch seemed to intensify in mere seconds. But still, you tried, aching for him now, "Touch me, please. Down-"

A loud bark had you jumping out of your skin. Ducky growled at Bradley, starting to shield you protectively.

You laughed at his dog's actions, and Bradley looked at you in disbelief.

"Ducky, down! Off the bed!" Bradley's voice was loud, but it carried no real weight to scare the dog. Ducky instead settled down in between you two, almost pushing Bradley off the bed.

You laughed again.

"This is unbelievable," Bradley scoffed as he threw the covers off his body and got out of bed. From here, you could see the way his length strained under his boxers.

But it wasn't long before Bradley was over at your side of the bed and scooping you up into his arms.

"What are you doing?" you asked, legs instinctively wrapping around his waist.

"Trying to give my girl what she wants. This time uninterrupted," Bradley huffed, sending a glare at Ducky on the bed as he carried you outside the bedroom.

But when Bradley closed the door, Ducky only started scratching and barking even louder. You looked at him with a small smile, pressing a kiss to his temple to calm him.

"I've got an idea," he spoke, something dancing in his eyes. "Go open the door to the patio."

"Bradley, no! You can't leave him out there!" you chastised with a small frown on your face.

He hummed, head falling into your shoulder. But just as quick as it fell, it came back up again.

"Okay, you go outside then. Wait for me," he told you, planting a searing kiss on your lips that made you forget any questions you had. Bradley placed you down softly and watched as you padded over to the back patio, underwear now clinging to your skin in a way that almost looked uncomfortable.

But as soon as he heard the click of the sliding glass door shutting. He opened the bedroom door and let Ducky inspect the living room.

"I don't know where she is, buddy," he told the dog, shoulders shrugging, really trying to sell the bit. Ducky sighed and made his way back into the bedroom after a few sniffs and laps around the couch.

After seeing him settle back into the bed and toss and turn for a few minutes, Bradley crept out the back door, swiping the big, soft blanket you liked so much, on his way.

"What'd you do?" you asked the man as he came up to you and draped the blanket around your shoulders.

"He's sleeping. Do you really think so poorly of me?" he teased, hands once again coming to your waist.

"I never said anything," you shot back, failing to hide the small smile on your face.

Bradley walked backwards until he reached the little love seat on his back patio, pulling you down so you were sitting on his lap. You smiled at the eager look on Bradley's face, giggling to yourself.

"Hi," he said, leaning in to press his lips against yours.

"Hi," you teased back, meeting his lips halfway.

Bradley's mouth moved in a delicate, yet passionate way. His hands were planted firmly on your hips; you could feel his thumbs pressing into your skin as the kisses turned more intense. You gasped as Bradley dragged your core across his hard length, cotton rubbing together to create a dizzying friction.

Taking advantage of your open mouth, Bradley pushed his tongue into your mouth, licking into it with urgency. The noise that came out of your throat at his movements was quiet, but Bradley heard it nonetheless. Groaning into your mouth, Bradley moved your hips once more, going a bit crazy at the feeling of your heat against him.

"Come on, baby. Show me how much you need me, huh?" he broke the kiss to speak, eyes searching yours. But all he saw was the gloss already over them as you nodded quickly and threw your arms over his shoulders.

Bradley kissed down your neck as your hips started to move back and forth against his length. Your pace was slow, but he heard the hitches of your breath and decided not to push you just yet. His hands instead crawled up underneath your shirts and began to toy with your nipples again. At this, you captured your bottom lip between your teeth and nuzzled your head into the crook of Bradley's neck.

"So sensitive for me. Doing so good. You like it when I touch you like this?" he asked, nudging your head out from its hiding place.

With another nod of your head, Bradley grabbed your chin, quickly swiping your bottom lip out of its hold.

"Wanna hear you, please, baby," he begged, kissing your face sweetly. It was the exact opposite of how his other hand moved under your shirt, twisting and rubbing your pebbled nipples like they were his own special toys.

"Feels so good, Bradley," you said breathlessly. At the sound of his name falling from your lips, Bradley's hips jumped to meet the steady rhythm of yours. You yelped as he did so, but he was quick to capture your lips in another deep kiss, keeping his hips pressing harshly into your heat through the cotton of both your underwear.

"You're driving me crazy," he confessed, hand coming up to the hem of the old Navy shirt you were wearing. Looking to you for permission, you nodded wordlessly and felt the shirt being taken off your body.

Bradley threw the shirt across the patio and drove straight into your chest, taking one of your nipples between his lips. He lapped and sucked, feeling your hips roll with more urgency across his length at his ministrations.

"So beautiful, baby," he spoke in a low tone before switching to your other breast. One hand snaked around to hold onto your lower back, helping you with the drag. The other pinched at your now wet nipple softly.

"Bradley," you warned, eyes rolling to the back of your head at the combined feeling of his mouth, hands, and hips. The new pressure from the hand on your back was now pushing your hips in the perfect position, feeling his tip make contact with your clit through the cotton.

The man watched as you became consumed with pleasure, lip wobbling as your hips moved back and forth. He felt your fingernails dig into his shoulder blades, surely leaving marks.

His mouth popped off your nipple and made its way up to your open mouth, licking into it once again.

"Gonna come for me, baby? It's okay, I wanna feel you come. I'm right here," he spoke softly to you, watching your brows furrow and face twist.

The words and the intense look in Bradley's eyes made the tension in your tummy snap, hips moving fast to chase your high. You tried collapsing into your boyfriend, but with a firm hand that stayed on your jaw, you were forced upright, looking straight at Bradley as you came on his lap.

Your bare chest heaved as you came down from your high, pressing into Bradley's warm figure. His hand traveled from your lower back up to your hair, stroking it sweetly while placing soft kisses on your hairline.

"Can I feel you?" Bradley asked, fingers now toying with the lace on your underwear again.

"Yeah, but I wanna feel you too," you told him with a small smile on your face, bringing your fingers down to the waistband of his boxers. He chuckled at your actions, but still brought you into a sweet kiss.

Your hands pushed down his waistband and grasped his length in your hands. He was heavy in your hold, twitching as you rubbed a finger down the side of his member, tracing a prominent vein.

"So big," you whispered, more so to yourself, but the way Bradley's fingers moved to push into the front of your underwear made you think he must have heard you, too.

You felt one hand plant firmly on your waist while the other cupped your heat softly. His middle finger circled your entrance, rubbing little circles and spreading the wetness around, something that had you squirming in his hold. Bradley's thumb rubbed similar circles on your clit as you hunched over into his hold.

Your hands worked to rub at his tip, one hand coming up to your mouth to collect some spit, making the movements more fluid. Bradley shuddered as you found a steady pace, feeling your fingers continuously working over his sensitive head.

A finger pressed into your entrance, stretching you in an unfamiliar way. You whined into Bradley's neck at the feeling, tensing up for a moment. But he was quick to keep rubbing little circles against your nub, relaxing your muscles.

The finger pumped in and out of you at the same pace as your hand. Bradley's lips find your neck once more, now breathing heavier and lapping at more of your skin. As you ground down on him further, he moved to push another finger inside your wet entrance.

"Jesus, baby. Feel so fucking good around my fingers. Can't wait to have you on my dick," he groaned, feeling you clench and squeeze around his fingers. You moaned at his words, pushing further into him to rub your breasts against the hard muscles of his chest. Your nipples rubbed harshly against him as you moved your hand more quickly to keep up with the rhythm of his fingers.

"Need you, please, Bradley. Now," you gasped, feeling your stomach wind up again. He nodded at your words, pulling his fingers from your entrance and instead picking you up off his hips, pushing you up against the wood railing of the patio.

"This okay, baby? You okay with me taking you like this?" Bradley asked, referring to your back meeting his chest, taking you from behind. Your stomach jumped at his words as you braced your hands against the railing.

"Yes, please, Bradley." The words were barely off the tip of your tongue when you felt Bradley tug down your underwear, leaving you completely bare in the warm summer breeze. He quickly did the same with his own underwear, fully allowing his member to spring free and rub on your ass.

One of his large hands came to wrap around your hips while the other guided his cock into your entrance. Feeling your breathing pick up, Bradley placed sweet kisses on your neck before whispering, "Breathe for me, baby. I got you."

Taking a deep breath, you exhaled as Bradley pushed into you. It was only his tip at first, but the way you pushed your hips back at the feeling of him drove his hips further, pushing in fully.

Gasping at the stretch, your head lay back on Bradley's broad chest as he snuck his other hand around to toy with your tits. Your nipples were still sensitive from his actions earlier, so this only caused you to push further into his hold.

"Can I move? Are you okay? Need to hear you, talk to me, baby," Bradley told you, kissing the top of your head softly.

"Feels really good, please, Bradley. Need you to move," you complied, as he nodded, pressing his hips into you before drawing out and pushing in again.

You whine as he sets a steady pace. His hands roam all over your body, trying to grab onto every part of you. Your tits, your thighs, your throat. You feel your eyes cross once his thumb lands on your clit once more, squirming and crying out in a nonsensical plea.

Bradley watches as you start to fall apart on him. His hips are moving to piston his hard length into your warm heat, finding it hard not to fully bend you over the railing and have his way with you. Instead, setting a pace that had you crying out every few seconds, mouth open, and eyes closing at his deep movements.

The crude sounds of his hips meeting your ass were filthy and the loudest thing in contrast to the otherwise quiet night. The extra squelching sounds surely come from the previous orgasm you had. Bradley wondered what you tasted like, but he'd have to save it for next time.

"So good, feels so good. My pretty girl," Bradley groaned, head dropping to kiss along your exposed jaw line, hand pushing your tummy to arch you even further into his hold.

You moaned in response, feeling him deeper, feeling more pressure. "For you, only you, Bradley," you told him, head turning to capture his lips in a kiss.

Bradley felt a surge of energy at your words. His thumb worked in tighter circles against your clit, the kind that had you shaking earlier on the loveseat.

"Yeah? This is my pussy, baby? Gonna let me fill you up?" he asked, spit mixing with yours as he bit harshly on your bottom lip.

"Mhm, please. All yours," you cried out as his other hand came to hold across your hips, helping him push you to the edge by bending your frame even more than it already was. Your back arched away from Bradley as your hips and head pushed back to meet his solid body.

"Fuck, baby. Can't say shit like that," he scolded, but his hips kept pounding into you.

Bradley's filthy mouth was somewhat shocking to you. The only other time he had cursed around you was when he had stubbed his toes on the corner of your bed 3 weeks ago. So his words sent a chill down your spine despite the heat of the summer air.

Bradley's thumb stayed in its spot, working your clit and making you twitch and begin to thrash in his hold. But his other arm thrown around your hips made sure that you still felt his deep thrusts.

"Bradley," you breathed out, head tilting back to look at the man. Sweat dripped from his hairline, but he still moved to swoop down and catch you in a searing kiss.

"I got you, I got you. Come for me, baby. Wanna feel you come on my dick." His words pushed you over the edge as he licked into your mouth once more after speaking. The constant rub from his thumb and deep thrusts had you shaking as you worked through your high with him.

Seeing the way your body tensed, your tits bouncing with every movement, and your thighs shaking, had Bradley releasing in you with a low groan. His hips canted into you, slowing down slightly with each thrust, only moving to help you both work through your respective highs.

He had neglected to turn on any porch lights to not alert any neighbors or even Ducky, but the way the moonlight streamed through the trees and painted your features was something Bradley wished he could remember forever. Your lips were still parted, taking labored breaths. Your eyes were glossy, like you were trying to focus and come back into your body. Your cheeks flushed a deeper shade of rosy pink than he had ever seen on you before.

You were beautiful.

Bradley leaned down to kiss your cheek, and he felt you smile against his lips.

"Feeling okay, that wasn't too much, pretty baby?" he asked, genuine concern making his brows furrow.

You moved a thumb up to smooth the creases, kissing him softly on the nose with a small giggle. "Felt really good, Bradley. Gonna need some help walking, for sure though."

He chuckled at this, kissing your lips this time, deep and slow.

"I can help with that," he told you as he pulled out, both of you wincing at the loss. He quickly picked you up bridal style and carried you into the house, only letting your feet touch the ground as he set you down on the edge of the guest room bathtub.

Bradley moved to start the water, running his fingers under it to make sure it wasn't too warm or too cold before plugging the tub.

His big hands came down to frame your face, fingers a little wet, but you leaned into his touch regardless. "Gonna go grab our stuff outside and start a pot of tea and come back, okay?" he asked, searching your eyes. You smiled at him, and he leaned down once more to capture your soft lips between his own, the brush of his mustache making you giggle into the kiss.

"I love you, Bradley," you told him, lip now pulled between your teeth as you looked sheepishly at him.

But the man smiled wider than you had ever seen as he began to pepper kisses all over your face and head. You giggled at this, hands coming up to hold his which still framed your face.

"I love you so much," he told you, coming down to peck your lips once more, but the sound of the whine made you and Bradley turn towards the entrance of the bathroom.

Ducky huffed, lying on the cool hardwood, making you and Bradley laugh.

"We love you too, Ducky," the man teased, sending you a wink as you bit back a grin at the sight in front of you.

[kniesonice]

Absolutely love the idea of your summer requests, can’t wait to read all of them!!

Could I please request smut prompt 14 from list 1, with Freddie Andersen 🤭

list no.1, smut prompt no.14: pool/hot tub sex

smut 18+

freddie is unbelievably down bad for you. it’s obvious in everything he does—how he speaks to you in that low, raspy voice that gets you hot. how he treats you like you’re the most precious thing in his orbit. because the thing is, being love by your husband never comes quietly.

it’s in the way he looks at you like he still can’t believe you’re real, even after the ring, even after the house, even after years of waking up tangled together in the same sheets. it’s ridiculous, honestly. sometimes embarrassing, even. the kind of devotion people write songs about and swear can’t actually exist.

expect you’re living proof that it does.

because freddie would do anything for you.

you mention liking a certain brand of tea once, and suddenly the cabinet is stocked with every flavor they make. you complain about your feet hurting after a long day, and he’s on the floor in front of the couch before you can even ask, hands warm against your ankles, grinning when you call him dramatic. he remembers every tiny thing—how you like your coffee (black, one and a half sugars. almond milk added in the spring), which side of the bed you sleep on when you’re upset (the middle because you’re petty), -‘d the exact look you get when you’re pretending not to want attention.

and he’s so gone for you that he doesn’t even try to hide it.

his friends and teammates tease him constantly. hell, even your friends do too. they’ll make comments about how whipped he is, how pathetic he looks trailing after you at parties, eyes fixed on you like you hung the moon yourself. but freddie just laughs every single time, arm sliding around your waist while he says, “yeah, and?”

because to him, loving you like this isn’t humiliating. It’s the easiest thing he’s ever done. which is exactly how you ended up here now.

you’d made one passing comment at the beginning of summer about wanting a pool. not even seriously—just a distracted little “god, imagine having a pool right now” while sweating through a heatwave on the back patio of your carolina home. but your husband was already googling local landscaping places to deliver you just that.

so you weren’t even surprised when three weeks later, construction trucks started showing up.

and now there’s a massive in ground pool glittering in the middle of your backyard, sunlight dancing across the water while freddie lounges in a chair nearby looking entirely too pleased with himself simply because you’re beaming.

“all for me?” you had teased, stepping into his line of sight. looking entirely too beautiful in a tiny bikini you’d thrown on that morning—now suddenly feels very tiny under the weight of his attention as he gazes at you. sunglasses sliding down the bridge of his nose as his eyes dragged over you, completely shameless, mouth parting slightly.

“jesus christ,” he muttered in danish under his breath.

you just laugh, shameless and feeling so in love before dropping onto his lap with a shameless straddle. then immediately started pressing kisses to his burnt cheeks and stubble covered jawline.

he moans under your, hands finding the hump of your ass to keep you close against him. “I bought you a pool,” freddie says, like this somehow proves a point. “you can’t come out here looking like that after I bought you a pool.”

you giggled again, pulling back just enough to meet his half lidded gaze. your bottom lip finds home between your teeth, sultry without even trying. “I love it baby,” a kiss to his already awaiting lips, “how can I show my gratefulness?”

that’s how you end up here—in the brand new, heated, pool. blue and turquoise tiles slippery against your back with your husband pressing you against them.

freddie’s got you held open and exposed, bikini bottoms abandoned in a wet heap on the side of the pool, because no half assed, pulled to the side works with him. not in your own house—in your brand new pool nonetheless. and with that, you’re at the perfect spot for him to thrust into your awaiting, greedy entrance. sucking him in like a vacuum.

you’re moaning with it, desperate for more. with every lazy, yet somehow perfectly executed thrust, your clit smacks against his pelvis. sending the water up your bare torsos and over the edge of the pool like an erotic, choline filled porno.

your small hands dig into his shoulders before sliding up to his neck, holding him tight, grounding yourself. “freddie,” you gasp, tears prickling at the corner of your eyes when he delivers a particularly beautiful, sharp thrust into you. “please.”

lips parted, heat crawling down his neck and giving him a sexy flush, your husband meets your needy gaze without stopping the attack on your fluttering pussy. “feel good baby?” his chest is heaving against yours, adding more delicious pressure. “like when i’m fucking you like this?”

you can only mewl, leaning forward in search of a sloppy kiss. and it’s like he knows what you’re asking for, because he gives you a toothy, sloppy kiss without a beat.

“god,” freddie curses, momentarily looking through the distorted water, watching his cock impale you like it’s a brand new sight and not something he’s witnessed hundreds of times. “you look so fucking pretty like this. my pretty wife in her pretty pool.”

it’s usual praise he gives you when you’re having sex, but that doesn’t mean your body is immune to hearing it, and the way your inner walls slicken and flutter afterwards is an indication of so.

“I’m close,” you tell him, even though your husband knows your body well enough to be well aware of your approaching climax—sometimes even before you are. “please don’t stop,” you whine.

he doesn’t stop, but instead, he increases the speed of his thrusts, using his sheer size and strength to keep you spread and held up for him. it probably burns your inner thighs, but you can’t even tell. not now. if anything, you’re craving that pain coupled with pleasure that only your husband could ever grace upon you.

“oh my, fuck—baby,” freddie grunts, dragging you impossibly closer against him. at this point, it’s more grinding and rubbing than anything else, but it’s honestly perfect. because your pebbles nipples are getting friction against his hair littered chest, and your puffy clit is perfectly gliding against the beat patch of hair above his length.

and just like that, you’re cumming with a shout too loud considering that even though they’re pretty far, you do have neighbours. but that’s something that freddie secretly love about it—your sheer volume. another way to tell everyone that you’re his.

with that, he follows suit, emptying his warm seed into you.

[roughffalo]

i’m sure this means a LOT to some of you sluts.

[cncohshit]

Youre correct, it does in fact mean a lot to me

[grndgame]

adley in baltimore's new city connect threads

[cncohshit]

He makes me feral

[maluvv]

make it to the morning - lh43 x f!reader

★ A/N - i have not a lot to say ab this... anon 🐛 wanted lake house luke smut, so i ran with it❤️. i'm very grateful for all you divas who have been supporting me and read my stuff. i'll kiss each one of y'all if you'd let me.

☾ warnings - dryhumping (YALL DONT GET THE HYPE OF TS, HOP ON BOARD), dirty talk????????, sleepy smut, established relationship, unrealistic luke waking up... ik that guy would most definitely sleep through a tornado, not proofread properly (i am so tired and gave up)

APPARENTLY I DONT KNOW HOW TO LABEL THINGS AGAIN

✽ word count - 1786 words

The first time you wake up, it’s because of thunder.

Low and distant over the lake, vibrating softly through the walls of the lake house while the fan hums somewhere in the corner. The room is dark except for silver moonlight spilling through the curtains, enough to make out the shape of Luke beside you.

Bare chest. Curls sticking up all over the place. One arm heavy around your waist, even asleep, keeping you tucked close against him.

And god, that’s the problem.

Because you’ve been trying to behave all week.

Trying not to think about the way his swim trunks hang low on his hips when he’s carrying coolers down to the dock. About the lazy touches he gives you in passing, completely unaware of what they do to you. His hand settling on your thigh during movie nights. His mouth brushing your temple when everyone’s around. The teasing little “you okay, baby?” when he catches you staring too long.

You’ve been trying.

But now it’s the middle of the night, warm rain tapping softly outside, and you wake up aching.

Actually physically aching.

Your thighs press together instinctively beneath the blankets, and you let out the smallest frustrated breath into the dark.

Beside you, Luke shifts.

“Baby?” His voice is rough with sleep.

You close your eyes for a second. Of course he decided now would be the perfect time to be a light sleeper. “Go back to sleep.”

Immediately, he’s more awake, one hand sliding slowly over the surface of your waist. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Mm.” He pulls himself up onto one elbow, peering down at you with sleepy suspicion. “You’re squirming around.”

Heat floods your face.

“Lu,” you whisper miserably.

That alone tells him everything.

He softly exhales through his nose, his hand squeezing your hip gently, the mattress shifting when he tries not to laugh too hard.

“My poor girl,” he murmurs.

You groan quietly and bury your face in his chest. “Don’t make fun of me.”

“I’m not.” His lips brush your hair. “C’mere.”

He shifts onto his back and pulls you over him until you’re half sprawled across his chest, one of his hands smoothing slowly down your spine beneath your oversized sleep shirt that you had stolen from his closet earlier.

“You need me that bad?”

Your silence answers his question.

Luke lets out the quietest laugh, warm and sleepy and unfairly sweet. “Baby…”

“It’s your fault,” you mutter against his skin. “Walking around looking like that all day.”

“Looking like what?”

You lift your head just enough to glare at him.

His grin appears faintly in the dark.

“There she is.”

You try to hide your face again, but he catches your chin gently between his fingers before you can.

Moonlight catches the softness in his expression when he looks at you.

No longer teasing, just completely gone for you.

“My love,” he says quietly, thumb brushing your bottom lip, “you could’ve woken me up.”

“I just did.”

“Mm. True.”

His mouth finds yours slowly, lazily at first.

Sleepy kisses that melt deeper after only a few seconds because you can’t help it—you kiss him like you’ve been starving all week. Your fingers slide into his hair immediately, tugging softly, and Luke exhales against your mouth, chest rising sharply beneath yours.

“Easy,” he murmurs, though his hands tighten on your waist. “You’re basically shaking.”

“I know.”

“You wanna tell me what you need?”

Another whine leaves your throat before you can stop it, and Luke actually groans this time, forehead dropping briefly against yours.

“Jesus christ.”

Your hips shift instinctively against him, feeling out how hard he already is beneath his boxers, the sensation makes your head spin.

“Baby,” he breathes warningly, but he doesn’t stop you.

One large hand settles firmly on your hip while you move against him again, slow and desperate through the thin fabric between you both. The friction pulls a quiet gasp from your mouth, and Luke’s eyes close for a second, his jaw tightening while he fights for control.

“There you go,” he whispers. “That feel good?”

You nod quickly.

“So needy tonight.”

You kiss him again before he can tease you more, and he lets you climb further over him, lets your thighs spread around his hips while his hands drag slowly up and down your sides.

The rain outside gets heavier, but inside, everything feels warm and hazy and messy.

Luke’s mouth leaves yours only long enough to kiss along your jaw, your throat, lingering beneath your ear when you grind down harder against him.

“Fuck,” he mutters softly.

Your hands clutch at his shoulders.

“Lu, please—”

“I know, sweet girl. I know.”

His voice drops lower, soothing enough to make your stomach tighten.

One hand slides into your hair, tilting your head back gently so he can look at you.

“You’re so pretty when you need me.”

The praise goes straight through you.

Your movements get sloppier after that, desperate little drags of your hips making the bed creak softly beneath you both. Luke watches the whole thing with heavy eyes and parted lips, caught somewhere between calming you down and making it worse. He kisses you again, deep enough to steal the air from your lungs. When you whimper into his mouth, pulling back slightly to brush his thumb along your lower lip.

“So sensitive,” he whispers. “Look at you.”

Your thighs squeeze around him hard enough to make him groan.

“Baby,” he says against your mouth, voice strained now, "you keep moving like that and I’m not gonna last long.”

But his hands are still guiding your hips, still helping you grind against him slow and deep until your breathing turns shaky and uneven.

Every soft sound you make seems to hit him right in the chest.

“That’s it,” he murmurs. “Use me.”

Your forehead drops against his shoulder as you move faster without meaning to, chasing the pressure desperately while Luke holds you steady beneath him.

“There you go, my love,” he says softly, kissing the side of your head.

A shaky sound leaves your throat when he rolls his hips up into yours once, slow enough to make your stomach tighten painfully.

“Oh my God.”

Luke huffs out a laugh at that, though it sounds strained now.

“Yeah?” His hands spread wider over your hips, fingers digging in just enough to keep you moving against him. “Feel good?”

You nod helplessly against him.

The chain around his neck catches against the collar of your shirt every time your bodies shift together, riding higher on your thighs while his hands keep roaming over your waist and hips. Everything feels too warm, too tight, too sensitive.

Especially when Luke starts whispering to you.

“That’s my girl.”

“Pretty thing.”

“So desperate for me.”

Each one goes straight through you.

Your breathing breaks apart completely when he kisses under your jaw again, open-mouthed and lingering this time. He’s still half sleepy and still soft around the edges from being dragged out of bed, but there’s something wrecked in the way he touches you now.

He likes this far too much.

Your hips stutter when the friction finally starts building properly, enough to make your eyes squeeze shut. Luke notices immediately.

He whispers again, softer this time. “C’mon, sweet girl. Let go for me.”

You bury your face in his neck with a muffled whine.

“I can’t—”

“Yes, you can.” His hand slides up your back slowly, calming and grounding all at once. “I got you.”

The words hit something deep in your chest.

Suddenly it’s too much. His voice, the rain outside, the way he keeps kissing your forehead between every sentence as if he can’t stop touching you.

Your movements turn frantic for a second before Luke steadies you again.

“Easy,” he murmurs, repeating, “I got you.”

“Lu—”

“I know, baby. I know.”

Luke kisses you slow again, grounding and deep, but the second you grind down harder against him, he breaks with a low groan into your mouth. His forehead falls against yours, eyes squeezed shut for a second while he exhales shakily.

“You’re killing me.”

“Sorry,” you whisper automatically.

That makes him laugh softly despite everything.

“Don’t apologize.” His nose nudges against yours affectionately. “I like when you need me.”

Your hips move again before you can help it, a moan cracking from within you as your clit drags perfectly against his throbbing length through your clothes.

Luke curses quietly under his breath. “That’s the one, huh?”

You nod quickly, breathing unevenly now.

He keeps helping you through it, guiding your rhythm with both hands firm on your waist while his own hips start moving more openly beneath you.

Every rock forward pulls another broken sound from your throat.

You finally lift your head enough to see him properly.

His hair is messy, lips swollen from kissing you, chest rising hard beneath your hands.

Completely undone for you, and the sight nearly makes you cum alone.

“Luke…” Your voice breaks around his name.

“I know.” His hand slides into your hair again immediately, gentle despite the tension running through him. “I know, my love. I got you.”

The praise and softness and pressure all blur together at once.

Your movements lose rhythm completely, desperate now. The second your forehead drops into his neck with a choked little sound, core snapping, twitching from your orgasm with unsteady breaths, Luke’s composure finally snaps too.

“Oh, fuck.”

His hands grip your hips hard enough to still you for a second while a sharp breath punches out of him. His head tips back against the pillow, spilling into his boxers while he rides it out beneath you, every muscle tense under your hands.

“That’s it,” he whispers hoarsely, pulling you back down against his chest almost immediately after. “Good girl. Good fucking girl.”

You can feel the uneven rise and fall of his breathing against your cheek while his hands rub slowly up and down your back again, gentler now.

Rain fills the silence for a few seconds.

Thunder rumbles somewhere out over the water.

Then quietly, still catching his breath, Luke presses a kiss to your temple.

“Feel better?”

A sleepy little laugh leaves you against his skin.

“So much better.”

“Yeah?” His arms tighten around you beneath the blankets. “Good.”

You stay tangled together in the dark for a long time after that, Luke lazily tracing shapes onto your spine while the storm rolls softly over the lake outside.

Every few minutes he kisses your forehead absentmindedly, warm and lingering.

“My sweet girl,” he murmurs eventually, his voice drifting and sleepy again. “Next time just wake me up sooner.”

thank u for reading!! feel free to chat in my inbox!! i am always down to be a freak or talk whenever! ✭

2026 © MALUVV all rights reserved. do not plagiarize, repost, or translate on any other platform pls & thank you!

[harleybrini]

Please queen can I get prompt 11 from list 1 with Ukko or Harls after playoff exits 🙏 obsessed with u

ukko-pekka luukkonen ✶ nsfw content (0.9k)

went with upie for this one because I haven’t written anything for him yet! And also because he just looked so sad in all the post final interviews :( hope he’s doing okay + also obsessed with u too my ♥️

cockwarming, angsty, praise, crying during sex

How sad he looked as the interviewers that surrounded him went off on everything he did wrong in the last game. How defeated he seemed as each minute passed by, utterly hopeless. 

You hated to see it; this wasn’t your Ukko, your sweet boy that always seemed to have a smile stretched over his warm face. He was happy, carefree and childish in all the right ways. But now it appeared that part of him had fizzled out the moment the final buzzer rang.

The air in the locker room felt cold, empty even despite the people contained inside it. You stood off to the side, arms wrapped around your body as you tried to self-soothe. You wanted to help him, be there for him as he fell into that hollow shell of loss, and pull him back out again before he travelled too far into it. But you couldn’t, not when the press were so busy with him. 

He catches your eye from over the shoulder of some mousy journalist, your brows furrowed the moment you spot the welling tears and darkening eyebags. He’s exhausted, your Upie. You see it in the quietest of moments, when everything else has been swallowed up with noise. The goaltender is the last line of defence, the be-all and end-all of the game. The weight on his shoulders was immeasurable, and unfortunately this time round it was just far too much for him to handle. 

The journalists drone on, asking stupid questions that he can’t answer properly because there isn’t an answer good enough. His gaze remains fixed on you; they'll chalk it up to dissociation, but you know that he’s looking right at you just to ground himself. 

You drive the car home tonight. Not that he wanted you too, but you took it upon yourself to make the decision. Ukko was in no headspace to be making those types of choices, so you did instead. His hand rests tightly around the circumference of your thigh, your jacket, the WAG jacket he was so obsessed with in his lap. He doesn’t say much, lightly hums whenever you ask something, and exhales shallowly whenever the vehicle passes by a pedestrian on the sidewalk with a red and blue coloured jersey. It doesn't take long to get home, but every second feels longer than the rest. You walk slowly behind him as he trails up the stairs; he doesn’t say anything then either, but on the third step his hand moves and opens up in your field of vision to latch onto and hold. You do so, weaving your fingers through his, letting him squeeze down once and then do the same to make sure he can feel it. 

When his back is to the couch, you know that this is the one thing that can make him feel better, if not for a few minutes. Your legs straddle his, knees digging into the soft plush surface of the sofa. He’s already hard by the time you’ve peeled your underwear down and slid him out of his jeans. He mutters something benign in Finnish under his breath, something you can’t quite pick up so you assume it wasn’t really for you. He’s warm in your hand, and drips of pre glide go down his length. You thumb over it, rubbing the fluid into his skin as it dries slowly. Ukko’s groaning now; each breath feels tempered with pain and pleasure all at once. His head tilts back; soft blond curls cling to the surface of his forehead. You brush the hair back and press a kiss to his sticky skin. He moans then, a stuttered, crackly sound that was beyond involuntary. You say nothing, not a single utterance of a joke or cruel words; he blushes out of embarrassment anyway. 

Carefully, you guide his throbbing length into your heat, mouth opening at the burn of the push. He’s huge; this is something you’ve become very familiar with, but no matter how many times it happens, you never accurately anticipate the sheer size of him inside you. The process of reaching the hilt is slow; his hands dig into your naked hips as he levies his weight enough to push your dress up even higher. Your hands are on his shoulders, then they phase to rest on either side of his neck. Once your pelvis is flush with his, you lean in and kiss him. 

Moulding your mouth into his, the control falls into your shaking hands as he just lets you do whatever you want. Your hips stay still; not a single movement is made where the two of you meet. As your teeth graze his, he bucks up accidentally. You lift slightly and break this kiss as he grumbles. 

“Wait. I just want to feel you.” 

He moans in response, nose brushing against your clothed collarbone. “You did so good today. I’m so proud of you.” 

Ukko crumbles into you, arms wrapping around your back until they meet on either side of your ribs. You ignore the way he continues to slowly roll his hips into you, just allowing him to do whatever despite your previous statement. He’s grateful for it, but not nearly as grateful for the way you simply don’t mention the feeling of tears cascading down your shoulder or the way he bites down on your flesh just to stop the sobs that will eventually break through. It’ll ruin the moment he’s sure, but you know it won’t.