HelloAleCW

It's all about Joe Burrow

[venusbabyy222]

i’m going to explode

[barzysbaby]

Happy birthday to the loml

[mattymartin]

↳ MAT BARZAL IN THE HAMPTONS | 5.29.26

[mattymartin]

↳ MAT BARZAL IN THE HAMPTONS | 5.29.26

[pwpdealer]

babygirl

[barzallyyours]

idk what’s going on with that hair pookie but this is better than being bald 😌

[pwpdealer]

HOLYYYY

insta @ ibbyali11

[gabelandeskog]

2026 IIHF Ice Hockey World Championship Pre-Tournament: France vs Canada | May 10, 2026

[ahoneybeing]

the outfit?!?!!🙂‍↕️

[harddeckstories]

To Catch A Hint

Summary : No matter how obvious you make it for him, Bradley just cannot seem to get the hint.

Pairing : Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Fem!Reader

Disclaimer : English is not my first language so sorry for any grammatical errors that might have escaped my proofreading💞

Word count : 3.9k

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“Yo, Mickey give me the schedule, I want to see who’s playing on the main stage.” Reuben called out to his friend.

“I don’t have it, dude, you do.”

“No I gave it to you after lunch, remember ?”

Mickey pulled out the inside of his pocket to prove his point, “I have nothing.”

Letting out an exasperated sigh, Reuben turned to the rest of the guys who seemed deeply uninterested and not at all concerned.

“Anyone has it ?”

Jake who was showing something on his phone to Javy didn’t even look up, “do we have what ?”

Reuben pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation, God were these guys incompetent when they weren’t flying at supersonic speed in a war machine.

“What are you sulking for, Payback ?” Natasha asked.

As soon as Bradley heard her voice, he looked up from his phone, on which he was pretending to be busy. Sure enough, you were right next to Natasha, back from your little trip to the bathroom.

Bradley had willed himself to not look too excited when Natasha had asked if you, her best friend, could accompany the squad on their outing to the music festival that had settled on the edge of town for a weekend. They all knew you pretty well by now, Natasha had already dragged you along to multiple hangouts with them. But it had only taken a few minutes after your first meeting for Bradley’s heart to do somersaults in his chest at the mere mention of your name. Still, he had yet to make a move. Why ? He didn’t really know. Each time he worked himself up to ask you out, or not even that, simply ask for your number, he would backtrack.

Bradley didn’t consider himself to be a shy guy, hell no. But there was something about you that made him a bit tongue tied whenever you were too close to him, and he would lie if he said that it didn’t embarrassed him a bit, at his age to still feel a schoolboy blush creeping up his cheeks when you sent a smile his way.

“Do you want me to hold your bag ?” Bradley asked, cringing a bit at how earnest he sounded.

You shook your head with a warm smile, “I’m okay, but thank you for proposing, that’s really nice.”

You affectionately squeezed his shoulder and Bradley’s breath hitched almost imperceptibly. The sole, brief contact of your hand on his covered shoulder was enough to send butterflies flying in his stomach with the force of ten Super Hornets.

“Yo Rooster, did you get sunburnt on your cheeks ?” Jake questioned with a smug grin, finger pointing to his own cheeks to accentuate his point, “you’re super red.”

Bradley only glared at him, and before he could retort anything, Natasha hit Jake on the back of the head.

“Leave him alone, Bagman.” She warned while Jake looked at her, deeply offended and rubbing the back of his head like the overly dramatic man he was, “now come on troops, let’s go to the main stage. In the toilet, Y/N and I heard people talking about a huge band that’s gonna play there.”

Everyone agreed and quickly started walking towards the main stage. Bradley was walking beside you, instinctively matching your pace to stay close to you. The squad was already quite far ahead when Bradley noticed that you had — purposely ? — slowed down a bit, leaving the two of you separated from the group. And being, if only a little, isolated with you like that made him equally as nervous as it made him giddy.

“Jake’s right you know, your cheeks are kinda red, you should put on some sunscreen.” You said softly, eyes fixed on the crimson hue painting his face.

Hearing the words ‘Jake is right’ coming from your pretty lips perhaps shouldn’t have left such a big sour taste in his mouth. Bradley tried to swallow the feeling off and focused on trying to not blush any harder under your soft and worried gaze.

He cleared his throat, “yeah, I probably should.”

“I have some in my bag,” you said helpfully, looking in your tote bag for the orange tub.

Your concern and desire to help him felt like a soothing balm on his bruised ego and he couldn’t contain the small, sheepish smile that pulled at his lips.

“Thank you, Y/N.”

But when he made a move to grab the sunscreen tube you seemed to be holding out for him, you immediately retracted your hand out of his reach.

“Let me ?” You asked, a glint in your eyes that made his heart skip a beat.

Bradley let out a small, surprised, but nonetheless absolutely delighted laugh. He stopped in his tracks, slightly lowering himself so it’d be easier for you to reach his face, which had definitely darkened in shade by now.

“Go ahead.” He said, voice dripping with fondness.

The word ‘sweetheart’ almost slipped away from him but he managed to reined it in at the last second. You giggled softly and squirted a small amount of sunscreen on both of his cheeks.

“Let’s not forget the forehead and chin as well…” you mumbled under your breath, which made Bradley smile even more.

Very gently and carefully, maybe more than anyone had ever been with him, you began to rub the cream onto his cheeks, making sure that it was fully covering and protecting his face. The feeling of your delicate fingers almost affectionately rubbing his face was sending his heart into a frenzy, accompanied by a warmth that spread in his entire body. It felt so good and for a moment Bradley was conflicted between closing his eyes to enjoy the experience to its full extent, or stay like this, his gentle brown eyes gazing down at you with surely nothing short of adoration as you focused entirely on getting every little nook of his face.

When you finished, you cupped his face with infinite tenderness.

“There, you’re all good to go now.”

And as quick as you had put them on him, your hands were gone. And the intensity of the longing Bradley felt for your touch probably should have been concerning.

“Thank—“ his voice came out strangely hoarse and he was quick to clear his throat, “thank you, Y/N.”

You offered him a sweet smile, your hand coming up to squeeze his shoulder… for the second time in under ten minutes he noted.

“Well, looks like we lost them,” you said, when you turned your head to look at where the squad was suppose to be, just a bit ahead of you. In their place was now a whirlwind of people passing through, and none of them looked like cocky and overconfident naval aviators.

“It’s okay, we know where they’re going.” He said, voice dropping into a sweet and low register, the way it usually did around you.

Instinctively, and before he could do anything to rein it in, his hand reached out to yours, ready to protectively guide you into the swarming sea of people. And as soon as his hand made contact with yours, it finally registered in his mind. His hand retracted as if he’d been electrocuted by your touch.

“Sorry !” He said quickly, “I just thought— I mean I didn’t want you to get lost in the crowd, you know ?”

God, he was embarrassing himself.

Fearing to see repulsion on your features, his gaze fixated on the worn out and yellowing grass under his feet. A few seconds passed and the lack of any reaction coming from you made his heart sink at the bottom of his stomach. He had fucked it up, fucked it up before he could even make his interest clear, and after all perhaps it was for the best, at least he was fixed now, a girl like you couldn’t possibly be interested in a guy like him anyway—

Bradley’s whirlwind of self deprecating thoughts stopped dead in its tracks, rendered silent by your arms wrapping around his. His eyes snapped back up to meet yours.

“There, that way it’s more secure,” you explained, the warm smile never leaving your lips, “you won’t lose me.”

It was like time had froze for an instant, Bradley looked down at your bright smile that was meant for him, only for him at that moment and he physically felt his heart stutter. The feeling of your body pressed against his arm was almost too much for him, and the outline of your breasts against his arm downright felt like a test from God.

While willing his racing heart to calm down and his cheeks to not overheat, Bradley guided you in the crowd, making sure that nobody was jostling you too much. And his eyes immediately darted to you when he felt one of your hands slip away from his bicep. Just as quickly, he averted his gaze when he saw your hand going to the low neckline of your top, seemingly readjusting it, Bradley just prayed that you hadn’t follow his line of sight.

He was gonna move on, but when you repeated the movement three times just under the span of five minutes, Bradley felt like he could perhaps address the matter.

“Is everything alright ?”

“Yeah, it’s just—“ you did it again, hand coming up to slightly move your top, “this top is gorgeous but it’s itchy as hell.”

You were right. The top was gorgeous, more precisely it was gorgeous on you. All day, Bradley had willed himself to keep his eyes away from the pretty dip of the top which was showing off the swell of your breasts, the top made them sit so prettily, in a manner that had his mind spinning if he thought about it too long. But now that you mentioned it, the fabric indeed did not look very comfortable.

“I think it’s slowly starting to give my boobs a rash.”

Oh.

The mere mention of your chest had his cheeks flaming up again. Damn it, just when he had managed to get his blush under control.

Hearing you complain suddenly, and very strangely he had to admit, gave birth to an urge to fix your problem, provide a solution. And his brain was quick to find it.

“I can give you my shirt, if you want.” Bradley supplied before he had anymore time to think about it, and what was there to think about really ? He’d give you all his clothes in an instant if you’d asked.

You eyed his open Hawaiian shirt, “are you sure ?”

“Yeah, don’t worry. I still have my tank top.”

You seemed to think about it for a second but made your mind pretty quickly.

“Well if it’s really not a bother then yeah, I’ll take it. Thank you, Bradley, that’s really nice of you.”

And then your hand came up to squeeze his bicep and Bradley wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to handle all your casual touches, which were very much not casual to him.

“Alright, let’s go to the toilets so you can change, yeah ?”

Turning back around and thus abandoning all the progress you had made in the crowd, you made your way towards the toilet.

“Oh god.” Was the only thing you were able to say as Bradley and you gazed at the endless waiting lines in front of each of the five portable toilets installed by the festival crew. “There literally were only five people ten minutes ago. I’m not waiting half an hour just to change clothes.”

Bradley’s mind was racing, trying to find another solution for you to change with the privacy you deserved. There was no way he would let you change outside here for everyone to see—

“I’ll just change outside.”

His head whipped towards you so fast he almost gave himself whiplash.

“Outside ?!” He repeated, deeply offended and distressed you would even suggest something like that.

But his alarmed tone didn’t faze you, a small smile pulled at your lips, a mix of mischief and warmth that was doing dangerous things to him, “yeah, we’ll find a quiet corner, plus, you’ll shield me, right ?”

Like his life depended on it.

Thus, similar as a man on a mission, Bradley looked for a quiet place in the midst of the festival’s craziness. Anywhere near the toilets was out of questions, as well as any of the stages. Too much people.

Finally, Bradley managed to get you to a more tranquil space, just near some hotdog food truck, he found it bizarre to see a food stand without anyone agglutinating in front of it, but one look at the hotdogs quickly supplied him with all the answers. The trailer was empty, so he ushered you behind it, in the corner. He hastily took off his shirt, opened it wide open to cover you so nobody could even think of taking a glimpse.

“Alright, try to make it quick.” Bradley turned his head to give you privacy and also to look out for any creeps.

He heard you chuckle, along with the sound of moving fabric. “Who knew you could be so assertive ?” You teased.

But Bradley cringed at the tone he had dared to use with you, “sorry I didn’t—“

“No, it’s fine.” The smile in your voice was evident, “I like it.”

Gazing out in the empty part of the festival field, he tried not to say anything stupid now and ruin all the progress he’d made. He felt his shirt slip from his fingers as you delicately took it from him, promptly, he turned around, his back facing you and continued to stretch out his arms to shield you.

After a few seconds he heard you put something in your bag and then your fingers went to gently tap his shoulders.

Terrified of misinterpreting your cue, he asked, “can I turn around ?”

“Yes you can,” you agreed in an endeared laugh.

Nothing could have prepared him for the sight blessing his eyes. Standing with a sheepish smile, you were showing off your new outfit to him. Outfit composed mainly of his Hawaiian shirt, falling onto your smaller frame perfectly. The few top buttons were opened, allowing the fabric to reveal just the beginning of the valley between your breasts before draping delicately over them.

Bradley felt like his brain short circuited. You looked nothing short of ethereal in his clothing. And the thought that right now, something of his was touching your arms, your stomach, your breasts… you, was entirely too much.

“Well ? How do I look ?” You prompted, facing his silence.

Bradley cleared his throat, “you— you look good. Great actually, it suits you better than me,” he tried to joke lightly, except it was nowhere near a joke, it was the pure, blatant truth and the casual laugh he had opted for sounded awfully hoarse.

Your smile widened and only then did Bradley catch the way your eyes seemed to be raking appreciatively over his now uncovered shoulders and arms. He preened on the inside and subconsciously puffed up his chest a little, desperately trying to appeal to you in anyway.

“Should we go find the others ?”

“Yeah.” Instinctively, you went back to his side, your arms snaking around his.

While trying to make your way back to the main stage, you passed by a relatively small one surrounded by quite a lot of people, quite the contrast compared to the size of the stage. Lively music was booming from the speakers, and the crowd was happily moving along to the beat. Bradley’s fast pace was suddenly cut short when you gently held him back, tugging lightly on his arm.

“Is everything okay ?”

“Let’s dance, Bradley.”

His heart skipped a beat.

“D— dance ? What about the others ? Don’t you want to get back to them ?”

“Not yet. Right now, I want to dance with you.”

Akin to an angel who came down on earth to bless him with your smile and presence, you gently pulled him towards the middle of the makeshift dance floor, giving him time to backtrack if he wanted to, but there wasn’t any world out there in which Bradley could ever pull away from you. The music suddenly changed. The rhythmic tunes subdued by the gentle sway of a slow dance.

“Ohh, look at that, perfect timing.” You smiled up at him.

Bradley was usually a good dancer, a pretty smooth one if he said so himself, comfortable in his body and the way it moved. But right now all his muscles were stiff, rendered useless and rigid under your expectant gaze.

“Don’t look so nervous,” you chuckled, taking his hands and placing them on your waist.

“I’m not.” He lied, not very convincingly.

Bradley prayed to God that you couldn’t feel the way his hands were slowly becoming clammier as they hesitantly rested on you. Your arms went around his neck, getting a bit closer to him. You swayed naturally to the slow beat of the song, taking him with you, and soon, guided by your elegant steps and soft words of encouragement, Bradley relaxed. Your fingers were lightly playing with the hair on his nape, and the occasional small drag of your nails there was rendering him putty in your hands, a tiny, delighted shiver going down his spine everytime. And for a moment, it seemed as if the crowd had disappeared, leaving you and Bradley alone, he was bathing in your attention and nothing had ever felt this good.

Your eyes were all too warm as they gazed up at him, just the tiniest bit squinted from the smile that never seemed to leave your lips whenever you were in his presence. And Bradley’s heart did somersaults in his chests when he caught your gaze flicking, almost imperceptibly, to his lips.

“I didn’t know you were such a good dancer,” Bradley whispered in an attempt to not break the moment, voice a bit husky from the closeness he shared with you.

You let out a small, endeared laugh. It was a stupid compliment, you both knew it. It wasn’t dancing, if anything it was more gently swaying and stepping to the side every once in a while, but he’d take any chance to compliment you.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

And by God did he want to know everything.

And just as he was about to finally voice this consuming desire, the music faded out, immediately replaced by loud drums, shattering the moment in the same time as the courage he had been mustering up all evening.

“Don’t look so gloom.” You almost cooed.

Shit, his face must have shown how annoyed he was at himself. Why couldn’t he just make a move ? The answer came too quick. What if you rejected him ? Bradley didn’t mind getting turned down, sure it was a little humbling at times, but it wasn’t that deep. But coming from you ? That was an entirely different story. One he wouldn’t be able to cope with if it ended badly.

Your voice got him out of his sulking turmoil.

“Bradley ?”

His eyes immediately snapped towards you.

“Yes ?” Voice going a bit high pitched at the end.

A chuckle passed your lips and Bradley got hit with a bone chilling realization, had you just been laughing all day at his inability to act like a normal person around you ? Did you think he was weird ? After all, you never really had the opportunity to truly see what he was like, since he was so guarded and uptight around you. Perhaps you thought he was the awkward, weird one of the squad. Oh god, what if you were just being nice to him out of pity ?

“Could you drive me home, please ? I’m a bit tired.”

That was it. You were tired of him, done, didn’t even want to go back to the squad.

“Are you sure ? Didn’t you want to stay for dinner at the Hard Deck after ?” He tried to reason, having a difficulty swallowing the lump in his throat. “The squad is gonna wonder where we are.”

“Yeah I’m sure, I’d like to go home, if that’s okay with you.”

“Of course, no problem.”

He’d be damned if he didn’t at least make sure you got home safe after making you endure his presence all day.

“And don’t worry your pretty head about the squad, they’ll manage just fine without us.” You squeezed his shoulder for the nth time tonight, and when it had felt thrilling just a few minutes earlier, it just felt painful now.

“Alright.” Bradley hoped his smile came across as kind and did not convey any of the dread he was feeling up forming a pit in his stomach.

The drive to your house felt awfully charged to Bradley, and not in the way he usually liked. The soft hum from the radio was the only thing filling in the silence in the car. The sun was well set into its descending phase now, subduing a red and pink glow for the dark of the night. Bradley was unusually quiet, in the hopes of getting you the peace and quiet he thought you were looking for, after spending the last part of the evening babysitting him.

“Bradley ?”

God did he love hearing his name coming out of your mouth, and he prayed that after the awkward teenage boy act he had pulled tonight, that he would be given the chance to hear it again.

His eyes flicked over to you, seeing your hands playing with the buttons of his shirt on your chest.

“Yeah ?”

“You really are an oblivious guy, aren’t you ?”

Frowning, Bradley fully turned his head to get a look at you. His eyes widened when he saw you undoing every single button of the Hawaiian shirt, the fabric draping gracefully over your breasts, revealing the valley in between them. He quickly turned his gaze back to the road, his pulse roaring in his ears… and traveling quickly somewhere down south.

“I— um, I’m not sure, what is—“ his eyes flicked to you again, shirt open, your head was lolled to the side, looking at him with something he realized he might have misinterpreted from the start, his gaze returned on the road, taking the turn that led to your house, “what are you saying ?”

You let out a giggle as Bradley parked in front of your place, your bottom lip was caught between your teeth as your gaze traveled to his mouth, a smile stretching yours. Wordlessly, you got out of the car. Confused, and ridiculously turned on, he got out as well, rounding the car and watching you walk to your door while he just stood there, unsure of what else to do. Did you want him to walk you to your door ? Did you want him to just leave you the fuck alone…? He was so confused.

And so he just watched as you unlocked your door and walked in… without ever closing it. You turned around in your entrance hall, eyes boring into his despite the meters separating you.

“If you didn’t catch the hint,” you said, and Bradley watched wide eyed as you let the shirt slip off your shoulders and fall gracefully to the ground, baring yourself to him, “that was an invitation for you to get in.”

Oh yeah, he definitely got it now.

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Author's note : I like to imagine Bradley as either this very observant and aware guy, or totally oblivious, there is no middle ground. Also I’m still having a bit of trouble writing Bradley and characterizing him so if you think I wrote him out of character too much, please do tell !!

Alsoooo there are 300 of you guys following me, that’s insane !! Thank you so much, I’m really honored. I have some very excited things coming up and I can’t wait to share them with you all !! Thanks again💞💞

[barzxxx]

[hogans-heroes]

He be looking so CUTE in the One Night Only Trailer. The AUs about to be cooking

[w1ldthoughts]

Operation: Seasons of Change

Summary: You fought for your life and made it to your second trimester. Little did you know, that would be a beast of a different kind. Hormone surges, backaches and holidays are just the tip of the iceberg.

Word count: 9.8K

The Bengals were 7-1, their best start to the season since 2015, when you finally felt healthy enough to get back to your normal routine. Contracts had been signed for the development with you as lead architect for a beachfront property you were planning to turn into a flagship restaurant for a catering company. The deal was one of the biggest of the year for your firm and after the last 13 weeks of your life being spent either throwing up, gagging with your toothbrush in your mouth OR just having no energy to do anything but look at city permits, revisiting floorplans and if the layout actually aligns with the design concept. Now that you were firmly back on your feet, a dark cloud loomed over your head on whether or not the project was far enough along for a ceremonial groundbreaking ceremony in a little over six weeks.

“Where are we at on the local consultant responses?” You asked your assistant Reyna during your redline meeting.

“R.D Olson Development is in, they let me know last week and Slater Builders is also a solid back-up plan since the initial plans had an issue with the stairs being up to code.”

“Mei and her team wanted to open up the balcony area for hibachi grills and really emphasize that farm to table aspect,” you read off your client notes from the business owner, making sure her needs were met. “The open space is important so whatever we need to do to get those stairs, we should talk to Van and see what he and the design team can come up with and print out their new drawings. Get a couple different eyes on it.”

Reyna nods and jots a couple things down as talking points, including a discussion about technical systems like HVAC units and finding the balance between aesthetics and functionality. And with her knowing that you were having a baby, you had someone to confide in who trusted you and knew your work ethic to know you’d get the job done but also knew you well enough to let you know to slow down if you were on the slippery slope of biting off more than you could chew.

“I’ll talk to Van and his team, you drink water and get out of here, I know you have prenatal yoga or whatever responsible married adults do in the afternoons. I will let you know what I find tonight and we'll pick it up from here in the morning.”

You give her a small smile, sipping your water as you grab the rest of your stuff, taking one other glance at the drawing board. “You’re amazing, call if you need anything, seriously." She nods, waving you off, already pulling out her work phone to meet with the design guys downstairs as you slipped out of your office.

Dr. Chen, your OB had encouraged workouts as long as you felt up to it and with the lack of physical activity you'd participated in during the first trimester, light Pilates felt like the safest and most consistent option. You'd spend maybe an hour at your local private studio, worked up a little sweat and went home to shower and embrace this new journey, even though the changes you knew were happening within your body weren't visible yet. That part was nice because it bought you more time to keep the questions at bay.

Luckily at home, there were no secrets. This was a baby that you'd carefully planned for and so far, everything was going according to that careful plan, even in the midst of football season. Tonight was one of the rare quiet nights where he'd come home before you did, his car parked in his normal spot in the garage, likely upstairs looking through film on the week's opponent. Morgan was in the kitchen putting finishing touches on what Joe had been looking forward to all week.

Homemade sushi.

As soon as your husband mentioned it in passing on Tuesday, his private chef immediately got to work and began the lengthy process of finding the freshest fish he could, along with the best produce to create a spread worthy of the franchise leader of arguably the best team in the league so far this season. On Friday night, the stage was set: crispy rice, thinly sliced sashimi, avocados, lite soy sauce, sriracha and market grade wasabi and ginger laid out to the side.

"This is restaurant quality," you point out, setting your bag down in a chair. "Give yourself a pat on the back, Dominguez."

"Last name? You're really impressed," Morgan says with a sly grin, rolling up his sleeves again to wash his hands.

Joe comes down the stairs in a gray hoodie and shorts, tablet in hand and his face lights up when he sees everything laid out on the counter. "Oh my God."

"You said you wanted sushi." The chef notes casually, although he's mentally pumping his fist that he got such a positive reaction from a usually very subdued man. You and Morgan both watch as Joe leans over the counter, examining everything like a restaurant critic.

"This looks insane. And you even got the little crispy onions I like, sick." He reaches for a piece immediately, popping it into his mouth and promptly giving the creator a thumbs up. You walk around him and take a closer look at everything Morgan made, a pensive look on your face.

"Does sushi not sound good?" Joe asks, wiping his hands on a paper towel, eyebrows curled in concern, "is it the smell?"

"No it looks like it came straight from Japan. And I mean that in a good way, Morgan you really went all out. It's just all...raw."

Both guys stare at the table, collectively pausing before Morgan puts his tattooed hands over his face. Joe's eyes widen in horror. He steals a glance at your stomach like the answer was written on the front of your shirt.

Figuratively speaking, it was. "I'm an idiot."

"Well, no."

Morgan looks absolutely horrified, "this is my fault. I blanked, I should've made some baked rolls. It didn't even cross my mind, I'm so sorry. Can I make you something else? There's extra salmon."

"You don't have to apologize, it's fine. I'm gonna order some Thai food and shower," you looked in Joe's direction, noticing that he put down the piece he was about to shove into his mouth, "eat your food."

Joe looks at the platter again like it's now personally insulted him. "I asked Morgan to make sushi, this is kind of my fault."

"Relax, it's nobody's fault. I'm gonna live."

"Okay, but I'm not eating until your food gets here. Least I could do."

"So you're gonna starve yourself because you feel bad that I can't eat raw fish?"

"Yeah it's fine, I can wait." He promises, still looking guilty.

You place a hand on his shoulder and walk towards the stairs, "my food will be here in 40 minutes so I'm gonna go upstairs and shower. You can eat, I promise. You're fine."

He narrows his eyes at you, waiting to see he can detect animosity in your voice. "You sure?"

"Yes."

"You promise? This isn't one of those tests where I eat and you're mad."

"It's the middle of the season and you need the calories. I'm not gonna be upset with you for eating dinner like a normal human being."

"Fine," he exhales as Morgan nudges a spicy tuna roll towards him, "I still feel bad I forgot you can't have any."

"You'll survive. Eat."

He nodded, grabbing chopsticks as you headed upstairs after kissing him on the cheek. That night, he felt so bad about the dinner mishap he suggested giving you a foot rub even though he thinks toes are weird looking, determined to make it up to you. You gladly accepted the gesture even though you weren’t upset with him.

Bye week was off to a rough start before it even really began. The clock hit zero on the first Battle of Ohio game of the season, a Sunday afternoon matchup in Cleveland and you knew you were in for a very long seven days.

The Bengals were going into the break 7-2, after a 31-34 loss to a division opponent with a losing record.

Joe was at the facility Monday morning at 6AM, both hating and relishing the quiet. Normally, in the NFL you didn’t have time to stew over a loss because you had to quickly shift your brain to the next Sunday with a fresh mind and a new opportunity to compete. There was no game, no opponent to prepare for, and no shot at redemption for the next thirteen days. He should’ve felt relieved to give his body time to fully rest and recover, instead, all that he felt was the sour taste of defeat.

He met with offensive coaches who didn’t give him much of an answer on how to prevent a slow start after the break, which only added fuel to his irritation. Maybe he’d send a fiery text to the captains group chat about coming out with energy and not lose momentum during a crucial part of the season.

It wasn’t often that he felt the need to speak up, but there were times that he wanted his voice heard and his stance known. This was one of those times.

The text was drafted and sent by the time he knocked on the door of your home office, temporarily putting aside his professional grievances to check in on what you were doing.

“Right, yes. That’s the plan. I was thinking arriving on Tuesday so I could meet with them in person before the big day.” He heard you say to your screen, clearly still in a meeting. “Then we’ll have dinner Wednesday night with everyone for a quick site walk and get going Thursday morning with the ribbon cutting.”

He stepped in carefully, standing in the doorway without making a sound, listening to a mix of people chime in on their travel plans in a few weeks for the groundbreaking ceremony that had been green-lit. Drawing plans and a lengthy itinerary sat neatly at the front of your desk and you barely noticed you had company, fully consumed with what was happening in front of you.

You finally turned in his direction after the meeting was over, a little surprised he didn’t make his presence known. “How long were you standing there?”

“Only about five minutes,” he shrugged. “You done for the day?”

“I am,” you rose from your seat to greet him and he pushed himself off the wall to close the distance, stopping short when you got closer. “What?”

“Turn to the side real quick,” he pressed, slightly tilting his head. “Is that…?”

“Yeah? I think so?” You smoothed a hand down your shirt, feeling the slight swell in your midsection.

“That wasn’t there last night, was it?” The curve had undeniably appeared this morning when you woke up, a recent development from the daily bloat you dealt with at night after having dinner.

“Kinda was, today’s more undeniable though.”

“Huh,” Joe shifted his weight, hesitantly reaching down to feel for himself. “I knew this was happening but this is…weird.”

“Weird good or weird bad?”

“Weird good,” he said quickly. “Just—” He paused, searching for the words.“It’s real now.”

“Sixteen weeks,” you whisper, still trying to wrap your mind around the fact.

Joe sighs, taking his hands off of you. “We’re really in it now.” He’d originally come in to complain about how annoyed he was about the lack of urgency and being told to enjoy a couple days off but after seeing that there was an actual person the two of you had made and you were actively creating, all of his thoughts about the last week seemed irrelevant. Instead, he suggested rewatching the Umbrella Academy before it got boring.

When they faced the Cardinals fresh off a week of rest, recovery, and excessive preparation to make sure they came out swinging, Joe slept peacefully that night, crashing hard after a hard-fought win.

You were super excited for him and the team in general. There was always a livelier buzz in the city during the season after a win, and Todd, the director of finance at your firm always brought three dozen donuts from Milton’s. But donuts were not what roused you out of your sleep in the middle of the night. You needed ice cream and you needed it now.

For as long as you’d known your husband he was a creature of habit, during the season especially. Without getting into specifics he had a lengthy routine he followed to keep himself in peak physical shape from week 1 to week 18 and hopefully until to a deep run in the playoffs. The offseason was a different story entirely but the one rule that never changed no matter what time of year it was, was the ‘no food in the room’ rule. Not that he was a germaphobe, he just hated crumbs in the bed. Crumbs meant bugs which meant changing the sheets more often than necessary and that just made no sense. Food is a downstairs thing and you respected that rule, carefully sliding out of bed and walking slowly down the stairs in search of your new favorite creation, raspberry and white chocolate ice cream bars.

Our bed is a sanctuary, not a drive thru, your heard him say in your head as you dug through the freezer. The ice cream was supposed to hold her over, soothe the uncontrollable need to eat something before the fetus started eating at her insides. The cool berry flavor was satisfying, but it needed to be paired with something else.

Peanut butter sounded amazing right now for some reason and she walked through the pantry and only found the weird high protein, low fat stuff Joe put in his shakes so she headed back to the freezer and dug in the back in hopes of finding her golden ticket she’d stashed a few weeks ago.

An Uncrustable, the very last one.

Unfortunately, it was frozen solid so you had to wait until it thawed. You took a look at the time, 2:05. Would’ve given up if you had the choice but this was literally a matter of life and death.

The ice cream bar was finished soon after that and you were still unsatisfied, needing something salty to complete your middle of the night snack. You thought about ordering something, nothing like a DoorDash doom scroll to pass the time, tacos did sound kind of good. That craving vanished about as quickly as it appeared when you thought about the Cool Ranch Doritos you made Morgan buy on his latest grocery run.

You grabbed a bag and opened it immediately, the crunch provided everything you’d tirelessly looked for. Chip after chip landed into your mouth as you stared at the uncrustable, like you could melt it faster with your eyes, not looking away from it for a second.

Until you heard footsteps gingerly coming down the stairs. Joe appeared in the kitchen doorway, looking every bit like someone who had just played an NFL game and then woke up unexpectedly at two in the morning. You almost felt bad but then you remembered that it was 50% his fault you were awake at this hour, shoveling food in your mouth like you hadn’t eaten in the last decade.

He rubbed his eyes to wake himself up a bit to take in the scene before him, squinting at the one light you’d turned on. “What are you doing?”

“Eating.” You tell him simply.

“It’s two in the morning.”

“I’m aware.”

Joe rubs his face, grabbing the seat next to your standing form. “You woke up hungry?”

“Starving,” you correct him. “Thought I was gonna die.”

He looks at the Doritos bag. And the ice cream wrapper. And the untouched peanut butter and jelly on the go snack.

“How many different things did you grab?”

You shrug, still digging in. “I had ice cream, now I’m eating these. And I’m waiting for that to thaw then I think I’m done,” you said, nodding towards the plastic covered sandwich in front of him.

He sighs, standing up to grab a cup out of the cabinet, filling it with ice and water. Once he’s screwed on the lid, he pulls out a straw and sticks it in, tucking the uncrustable under his arm and slowly walking back toward the stairs. “You coming?”

“Where are you taking my food?”

“Upstairs.”

You frown. “Did you forget your strict no food in bed rule?”

“Honestly, I’m tired,” he sighs, “and you’re hungry. And I can’t sleep knowing you’re down here alone wandering around the kitchen.”

“So your plan is for me to eat in our room?”

“If that’s what it takes, yeah.”

“This is a big development.”

Joe rolls his eyes, standing on the first step. “Don’t get used to it. This is an exception.”

You smiled to yourself anyway, all the way up the stairs, watching him unwrap your sweet victory before he pulled the covers over himself.

“Please try not to get any crumbs on me.”

“Look at you. Already making sacrifices for our kid,” you laugh as he closes his eyes.

As much as you wanted that night to be a one-time thing, the cravings got more intense. You’d be in the middle of a brainstorming session with Reyna and you’d pause in the middle and tell her to order chocolate chip pancakes from the diner five minutes away before you could go any further. One day for lunch you had a cheeseburger, cucumber spears with whipped cream.

They didn’t care if the combo made sense or if Reyna looked at you and asked “are you sure?” every single time you asked her to put in the order, you had to have it.

Joe thought he’d seen it all and he was prepared for everything. But one night after dinner he realized, maybe he wasn’t.

He found himself standing in the kitchen again, watching you assemble something that looked like a the easiest way to a sugar coma.

“You can have Snickers salad but sour candy salad is where you draw the line?”

Joe blinks once, slowly, before responding.“That’s different.”

“Why?” You counter. “Because it has apples in it? I can take a few bites of a Granny Smith if it’ll make you feel better.”

“What would make me feel better is knowing you’ll have teeth in four months.” He steps around you and heads to the back of the kitchen. “We can satisfy your sweet tooth with something else. How about trail mix or blueberry overnight oats? I’ll even add agave to it for a more natural sweetener.”

You scoff, “I’m not eating nuts for fun. Do I look like a squirrel to you?” You point a gummy worm at him. “Actually, don’t answer that.”

He shook his head, biting back a smile. “How can we meet in the middle then? I’ve already conceded to the eating our room, there’s gotta be a candy compromise.”

Luckily for you both, there was a licensed nutritionist who could satisfy the sweet cravings while also protecting you from gestational diabetes. Joe fully leaned into letting go of the ‘no food in the bedroom’ policy, installing a mini fridge by your bedside table, stocked with frozen yogurt, grapes and apple juice. As well as the little basket full of other quick snacking options like cinnamon sugar banana chips and vegan cookie butter that actually tasted like the real thing.

The idea was so helpful you added a mini fridge and a snack drawer in your office. That one did have a few small bags of peach rings. Reyna promised to keep that just between the two of you if anyone ever asked.

Getting the cravings under some sort of control came at the perfect time because your work bag was stoked with snacks that were handy to have in Newport Beach. The construction site tour with the builders went on without a hitch, David, the lead constructor and his team knew you’d be working mostly remote and made accommodations for that and even scheduled two in-person check ins for you over the next few months, should your schedule—and body—allow it.

Watching Mei cut the ribbon at the ceremony felt like a relief. One small step for the project but a huge step for your firm and proof that you were still good at your job while your body was busy doing another. The only problem was that your win came at a cost. Throughout the week, you tried to be present in meetings and even successfully found business professional clothes that helped you blend in.

“Do I look pregnant in this?” You’d asked Reyna that morning, adjusting the cap sleeves of your off-white, knit, mock-neck top. The shirt was stretchy enough to pair with chocolate brown wide legged trousers that fit high waisted and the dark color created enough of an optical illusion. You just needed confirmation.

Reyna looks at you like you’re joking, slightly afraid to answer. “I don’t really know what I’m supposed to say.”

“The truth, preferably.” You tell her immediately, now feeling a bit more paranoid that you hadn’t hidden it as well as you should. “Can you tell? Because the last thing I need is the focus to be on me instead of this property development.”

“Oh. Then no, you can’t tell.” Reyna tucks her iPad into her bag. “Seriously, you’re good. And we’ll be in the back anyway. Nobody will notice.”

That sense of paranoia didn’t last long after, replaced by this sudden bout of homesickness, even though you’d only been gone for two days. Leading up to the ceremony, Joe crossed your mind a few times, he’d call when he got home right before bed because he knew you were having dinner around then. But you still thought about him, all the time.

You missed him, wearing one of his hoodies every night while you were away just to have the feeling of having him in the room with you. And that innocent longing thought quickly became primal when you got home.

Hugs were no longer enough. Light goodnight kisses or small touches in passing felt like the ultimate tease. You wanted to live in his skin, but you’d settle for your bodies being flush against each other leaving no room for personal space. His scent lingered in every room: the bedroom, the bathroom, the kitchen, the living room. And he wasn’t even seducing you on purpose.

“Was he wearing those gray sweatpants?” Sasha asks, pouring herself a cup of cranberry juice.

“You mean the ones that look like leggings and accentuate his ass?” Nikki pipes up. You and Sasha both look at her like she’s lost her mind. “What? I’m a lesbian, I’m not blind. I can appreciate a nice ass and his is unfortunately top shelf, get it?”

“Yeah…I do.” She holds her hand up and you high five her. “And no, he was just wearing a normal shirt and normal sweats. Nothing crazy, nothing revealing. But guys, I need help. I’ve actually never been this horny in my entire life. I feel like a teenage boy.”

They laugh at you, cutting into their food. Sasha had decided to host girl’s brunch at her place for a clearly much needed catch up session.

“I mean you guys sometimes have busy stretches during the season where you have to get creative, right? This isn’t the end of the world.”

“No you’re not hearing me. It’s getting unreasonable.”

Nikki rests her head in her hands, pushing her plate to the side. “What’s unreasonable to you?”

“The other day I was reaching for a plate in the cabinet and he stood over me to grab it. When he stuck his hand up here to help me I saw a sliver of his stomach—literally a few inches and I almost asked him to bend me over the kitchen counter right then and there. It was like I was a Victorian era man seeing an ankle for the first time.”

“Was Morgan in the room when this happened?” Sasha asks, a laugh already building in her body.

“Yes he was,” you gritted out. “I had to hold my breath until Joe was gone. I don’t even think I said ‘thank you’ I was so flustered.” Sasha sets her fork down, wordlessly agreeing that this is getting a bit out of hand.

“You need a sex toy.” Nikki says with a sad sigh, the quickly recovers. “I’ll send you my favorite website. They ship super discreetly. Looks like a generic box.”

“Or you could just talk to Joe?” Sasha points out.

You think on it. The thought of telling your husband who comes home every night and watches endless clips of grown men tackling each other before getting into bed by 8:45PM to carve out an hour of his carefully scheduled day sounded like repeatedly slamming your finger in a car door. You looked at Nikki, “text me that website.”

The rose toy arrived days later, carefully selected and ordered on your phone while your husband peacefully slept beside you, perfectly unaware that you were about to change your own life. You’d tackled intense hunger, physical body changes and now raging hormones all within the last three weeks.

Pregnancy had nothing on your ability to problem solve.

The halfway mark of your walking incubator experiment fell the week after Thanksgiving and with the week full of weather below freezing, the spirit of Christmas had to be represented in your home. And of course, your one-man audience was less than impressed.

“Can we hire someone to put everything up?” Joe asks, Airpod case resting in his hand.

“How did you take the most fun activity out of the holidays?”

“Sorry, here I thought the holidays were about hosting both sides of the family after playing on national television and doing everything in your power to avoid touching the storied turkey.”

“That only applies to you. Why can’t I have a good time?”

Joe looks up, arms folding over his chest. “Do you promise not to get on any ladders? And wait until Tuesday so we can decorate together?”

“You just suggested hiring someone to do it. Now you wanna decorate?”

“Absolutely not. But I need to make sure you’re not standing on top of chairs to string lights onto things.” His dad voice was already scary accurate.

“I won’t climb anything.”

Saturday morning, as soon as Joe was on the team plane heading to New York for their matchup against the Jets, you texted your group chat nicknamed Charlie’s Angels.

He’s gone, we’re set.

Nikki and Sasha were in the living room 20 minutes later and the three of you brought out all the Christmas decor.

“The tree is on its way,” Ivy states, entering the garage even though your house manager never works on weekends. But as soon as you mentioned a secret plan to turn your futuristic smart house into the North Pole, she was more than eager to provide an assist.

“We’re gonna start with the living and dining room then,” Nikki says, telling Sasha to lift with her legs.

Joe wasn’t the biggest fan of the color red so you leaned heavily on white and gold: fake snow, mini reindeer and more plants to make the main level look like an enchanted Christmas forest. The truck carrying the greenery arrived with enough time to get everything on from top to bottom and the stockings hung up before dinner. You and the girls celebrated your clutch performance and Ivy wished you luck for when Joe inevitably found out you did all this behind his back.

He walked in half asleep and tossed his bag by the door, relying on his phone flashlight to get him upstairs. There was a fake, grass-like thing looped around the railing but he didn't think anything of it. All that was important was his head hitting his Saatva cloud memory foam pillow.

Life was much simpler last night when the only thing he had to worry about was Minkah Fitzpatrick in disguised coverages. Instead, he walked downstairs and found that his home, his personal sanctuary, looked like Santa’s workshop had exploded, in a tasteful way, but still a jarring change. You almost laughed when you saw him, watching carefully as he looked at every new item that had been placed in the house.

His eyebrow twitched and you knew you were having this conversation before either of you left for work. “You said you weren't getting on ladders. That we’d do this together.”

“I did agree to not getting on ladders and I didn't.” You reassure him. Joe seems slightly less on edge after that. “But about the other thing...technically, I never said yes. Because that was just your way of stalling until it's too close to the 25th and we have no choice but to hire someone else to do the work. So...now it’s handled.” Beaming, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, whispering, “I have something to show you too.”

Joe hesitated, wanting to add a bit more of his thoughts to the lecture but he put the pieces together, seeing Nikki and Sasha’s influence. As well as the warning text he got from Ivy that was on his phone before he even opened his eyes. He appreciated not being completely blindsided and now the deed was done so he may as well accept it and see this secret thing you were so eager to share with him. You let him stand from the bar stool, leading him to the Christmas tree in the living room. “Notice anything new?”

The tree had so much going on, he wasn't sure where to look, “nothing’s jumping out at me.”

You pulled a glass ornament off the side of the tree, hanging it up high for all to see. In his hand rested the latest ultrasound where they could see the baby's arms and nose and a clear outline of the shape of their head. “Look at her little stomach,” he barely uttered out, “and leg.”

“Her? You think it’s a girl?”

“It?” Joe chuckles, resting his palm on your belly. The ornament stayed in his other hand.

“You know what I mean. Next year we'll have an actual human person with their own gifts, this is our last one before baby boy is with us.” Christmas morning, and every morning after that, for the rest of your lives would be changed by parenthood. Whether you or Joe had guessed correctly.

Even if you did have a gut feeling fetus was a boy and couldn't wait to rub it in his face if you were right.

Joe’s birthday always falls in the middle of the season, which is great for him, he loves his job and gets to treat this day like any other. Your attempts at throwing him a small dinner party were vetoed, he claimed he needed a quiet night in because of the playoff push and the team's potential to secure the top seed in the AFC became more of a reality. The last thing you wanted to hear about was how you disrupted his mojo by god forbid, celebrating his 35th birthday. The lack of plans actually ended up working in your favor because your back had started to protest normal function the last few days, a painful reminder that things were starting to stretch and expand at a rapid rate. Over a steak dinner, truffle fries and Brussels sprouts, he gave you a rundown on the team's hypothetical run to the Super Bowl while you explained the difference between laminated and insulated glass.

The back pain got worse, so much so, that you had a massage chair replace your normal office chair at work. Some days, you dreaded leaving the office even just to have a lunch meeting because of how comfortable your office was. Reyna had also found one of the best prenatal chiropractors in the area, so you started driving to Kentucky for appointments twice a week, growing very familiar with the staff, using your maiden name to maintain your privacy. You may have done a little too good of a job keeping a low profile because you’d overheard some of the staff compliment your strength. Something about how single moms were fearless.

You got home one evening after an adjustment, feeling like your spine had been kissed by Jesus himself, and found three gigantic boxes in the foyer. “Joe? Did you order more art pieces to hang up?”

“They’re pregnancy pillows,” he says looking proud of himself, “I know you’ve been hurting so Carson helped me out. I didn't know which one you’d like the most so I got all three for you try out.”

Placing a hand on your chest, you feign getting emotional, even though you are really touched he thought of you. He also probably thought this would help him get less interrupted sleep without you tossing and turning all night, moving pillows around. “You’re the best husband I’ve ever had.”

“I’m the only husband you've ever had.”

“Hm,” you shrug, “that you know of.”

“Hilarious. How’s your back feeling now?”

“Really good actually, I think the heating pad and everything else has been helping.”

He opens the first box as you point, carrying it up to the room. "You look better. Can't believe they're just gonna keep getting bigger. Last week she was tiny. This week you definitely look like you’re growing a person in there. It’s kinda sick.”

You glare at him as you feel the baby shift. “Thank you. That makes me feel a lot better.”

The u-shaped pillow might have been the best invention since the internet. It took up half the bed but that wasn’t saying much since the bed was massive anyway.

Joe hated it.

You worshipped it.

That pink monstrosity had both fixed your back issues and created a physical wedge in his marriage. Normally, he prided himself on finding solutions but in this case his solution had backfired. He couldn’t even see you in bed anymore, lost far away by a barricade he was regretting introducing to your lives with each passing second. But he also had to tolerate the creature because you slept, really slept, well enough that you didn’t have to drive out of your way to see the chiropractor as often.

And that mattered more than him being touched starved. For weeks Joe treated the pillow like a necessary evil.

He’d shove it aside enough to kiss you goodnight.

Sometimes he’d wedge an arm over it to reach your stomach when the baby kicked. Mostly, he ignored it.

One afternoon while you were still at work, he got home early after walkthrough and decided to take a quick nap.

The bedroom was quiet, bed perfectly made with the pregnancy pillow tossed over your side like an extra thick throw blanket.

Joe stared at it, half wanting to toss it across the room but instead of moving it, he grabbed the pillow and gave it a firm squeeze, almost doing a double take at how supportive the thing actually was. He laid down with it, just for a minute to find out why you enjoyed wrapping yourself in the pillow almost as much as you liked spooning him once upon a time. One leg was hooked around the pillow, the other went over, and his head resting over the curved top, molding around him so precisely he almost forgot why he ever hated it.

He was asleep in minutes.

An hour later Morgan walked in through the front door, having forgotten something from the grocery list.

Joe had mentioned a specific brand of electrolyte packets earlier in the morning and Morgan wanted to double check the name before driving across town. He’d texted Joe earlier to ask but didn’t get an answer so he figured the quarterback had written it down on a piece of paper somewhere in his office.

That’s where they’d been brainstorming supplements and a new variation of protein packed snacks.

Morgan pushed the door open and immediately found the brand name scribbled on a notebook, snagged a picture of the sheet and promptly made his way out. He was heading down the stairs before he noticed the master bedroom door was open.

That was unusual.

Curiosity got the better of him and the chef continued down the hall and stopped in his tracks seeing Joe in bed, arms around the very pillow he’d heard his boss call the bane of his existence.

He decided to file the information away carefully and bring the conversation up at the right time.

“They had that cherry juice we talked about, for recovery if you want to have that instead of a shake tonight.” Morgan tells Joe that night after dinner.

“Sounds good,” he says, scrolling through his phone.

Morgan opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of it, sliding it over. “Back feel alright?”

“Yep, it’s solid.” Joe didn’t look up until he heard you coming down the stairs. He gave up his seat so he could stand next to you, so close your arms were touching.

“What’s this about his back?” You asked.

Before he could press any further, Morgan paused, hoping to do this delicately. “I was just asking because I swore I saw you cozying up to a certain oversized cushion.”

Joe’s eyes bore into his chef’s soul. “What?”

Morgan sipped his coffee and shrugged like it was nothing. “Just sayin’. Thought I saw something like that. Looked real cozy.”

Joe narrowed his eyes. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh?” You added in, looking at the suspect.

“No, never happened.”

“Are you calling Morgan a liar?”

Joe takes a sip of the juice, barely reacting to the tartness of the fruit. “Cozy isn’t a word I’d use. And the pillow is still obnoxious, it also happens to be functional.”

Naturally, he’d have some scientific explanation to excuse his impromptu assisted slumber, deliberately being vague even though you and Morgan both knew he thoroughly enjoyed his afternoon.

Joe noticed things. He liked taking pride in recognizing patterns better than most, it was one of his best qualities and why he'd been one of the best in the league for as long as he had. His brain was wired differently than other people and he had an advanced degree in recognizing your behaviors.

Especially when they were abnormal.

One of your love languages was physical touch, especially during a busy season where your private moments were few and far between, you liked being close. Not in a clingy way, just to remind yourself that you did have a husband that loved you. There were little reminders in the evenings when you randomly hugged him or gave his arm a squeeze when you passed by him on his way back to his office, often touching him somehow.

He couldn’t remember the last time you kissed his jaw or sat thigh to thigh on the couch and asked him questions about zone versus man coverage, not because you didn't know, but because you just liked listening to him speak. It was kind of frustrating for him to note that it took a few weeks for him to fully register the change. In his defense, he chalked the physical distance to you being uncomfortable, tired, or distracted with work. Pregnancy was a new set of challenges every single day it seemed and the last thing he wanted was to pester you about something small. But patterns mattered and he didn’t want to make a pattern a new habit.

Wednesday night, he was halfway through watching clips of the Steelers secondary when he paused the tablet and leaned back against the couch cushions. You were sitting beside him, legs covered with a fluffy blanket, laptop resting on top of them.

“Is everything okay?” he asked, turning off football Joe for the day.

You looked up immediately. “Yeah...why?”

He shrugged, eyes drifting to the third wheel who constantly liked to make their existence known. “You’ve been kinda quiet lately.”

You frowned slightly, waiting for him to elaborate and he sighed, sitting up. “You used to play with my hair when I watched this stuff,” he said simply. “Or scratch my back.”

Not really knowing what he was getting at, you didn't say anything back. He continued, still casual but a hint of unease brewing on the surface.

“You haven’t done that in a while.”

There was a brief moment where you thought you hadn't heard him correctly. Of all the things you expected Joe to notice during the middle of football season, the absence of casual physical affection had not been in your top five.

You cleared your throat, “I didn’t think you noticed.”

Joe gave you a really, look. “I notice stuff.”

“I know, it’s just that you’re usually so deep in your mind I didn’t think it’d be a problem.”

“You mad at me or something?” he asked after a moment.

“What? No I'm not mad at you. You didn't do anything.”

“You sure?”

Instead of responding, you were going to just lay the truth all out there now that this had been brought up, feeling like you were about to rip off an old band-aid. Upstairs, you grabbed the item out of your drawer, taking a deep breath. “Moment of truth. You were a fun little secret to have.”

Joe looked at the box in your hand with a bewildered expression. “What is that?”

“It’s a rose toy.”

“What’s a rose—oh.” It was like a lightbulb had been turned on. No pun intended. “When did you get a vibrator?”

“A month ago maybe?”

“And you…” he didn’t want to be in your business but he did want to know, “do you use it a lot?”

“Not every day if that’s what you’re asking. I just know during the season you’re tired and focused and this isn’t me replacing you at all. There was just a time where I was feeling really really needy—embarrassingly needy. And I bought the rose to help me out.”

“Why didn’t you say anything? I had no idea.”

You pulled in a generous amount of air before speaking. “Morgan was there? And it wasn’t exactly the kind of conversation I wanted to have in front of veal chop and quinoa. But I did want to jump your bones simply watching you exist and it was getting desperate.”

“Was? As in, you don’t want to anymore?”

He didn’t look offended, just pensive, like he was trying to remember specific instances where you seemed…distracted. “Not that I don’t appreciate a visual of you using this, because I really do. But I’m here and if you need something or are feeling something and I can be of assistance, in season or not, I want to be.”

“Even if I eat snacks in bed?”

He nods, kissing your lips. “Even then. Do you wanna show me how that thing works?”

“Of course I do,” you laughed, pulling him in again, making up for a tiny bit of lost time as the kiss deepened. Joe let out a soft content sound, leaning further into the couch and gently pulled you closer, enough that you were practically sitting on him.

“See,” he said softly, eyes closing for a second. “That’s what I’ve been missing.”

Week 24

Wild Card Weekend - Week Off

The Bengals had officially secured the number one seed, giving them a first round bye. This gave your friends the perfect opportunity to throw a super casual, very small gender reveal gathering. Joe only agreed to it because he claimed he’s been waiting long enough and needed to be sure.

He came down the stairs in a pink beanie, pink sweats and a black hoodie.

“Subtle,” you noted, folding your hands in front of you. “It’s a good thing you like pink because he’s gonna think you’re sad when you don’t see all the blue.”

“Still putting all of your eggs in the baby boy basket, huh?”

“I don’t know, I just have a good feeling about them being a perfect little boy. Could be wrong.”

The wardrobe was your mom’s idea. Something she’d heard from a friend and she pitched the idea to Sasha and Nikki who loved the concept. They were the only ones who knew and no matter how many times people bribed them, they’d kept this secret for four whole weeks.

Joe’s parents arrived first, his dad already had the first games of the weekend playing on his phone and Robin brought a neutral gift, socks, even though you have specific instructions not to bring anything. Your parents arrived next, your mom was already teary eyed.

“How’s my grandbaby?”

You hugged her as she stepped in. “I am a person too, mom.”

“I know that. And I know you’re doing well. You look like the poster child for pregnancy glow. I don’t need to ask you how you’re doing.” She laughed and you caught her up to speed on your week at the office and your upcoming HR meeting to discuss maternity leave.

Conversations kept going as Sasha and Nikki arrived and suddenly the portable closet standing off to the side like a prop felt…real.

“Alright everyone!” Sasha says, excitedly clapping her hands, “let’s get this reveal going.”

You were more nervous now standing in front of this small group of people than you were presenting anything at work. At least there you were in control of the outcome, here, everything was up to chance.

“Ready?” Joe asks, one hand in yours and the other on the handle. You nodded, lifting your hand to wrap your hand around the handle in front of you.

Everyone gathered behind you to get a good view once the doors parted and they counted down, “three…two…one.”

You each pulled your door open. Inside the wardrobe hung a bunch of tiny clothes: onesies, beanies, sweatshirts, shoes.

All variations of blue.

No one said anything for a few minutes, until Jimmy spoke up. “It’s a boy.” That’s when the room erupted. Your friends hugged his parents who hugged your parents who hugged each other and you stood, quietly enjoying your sweet victory.

“I knew it.”

Joe hadn’t said anything, still examining the clothes like he was trying to wrap his mind around the concept of a person being able to completely fit into something so small. Someone who immediately became less of an idea, more of a person.

A son.

You placed a hand on his back. “Are you disappointed?”

“No,” he clear his throat. “God, no. Look at them.”

Behind you the celebration continued as your guests migrated towards the food spread. Your dad and Joe’s made predictions on how many traits from each side of the family he’d have while your mom and Robin got online to start ordering more clothes and making plans on airport pickups during the offseason, closer to baby time. Nikki and Sasha looked proud that they’d pulled off the first surprise and you may have heard a tidbit about shopping baby shower themes.

Tears pricked your eyes watching your family strategize their different roles to assist you both in this next chapter of life. “I’m really grateful he gets to have all these incredible people that love him.”

Joe carefully pulls you into a hug, only pulling back to place both hands on your stomach, lightly shaking his head in disbelief. Behind his eyes was a look of pride and indisputable elation. “Our little man’s in for a wild ride.”

Week 25

Divisional Round - Patriots at Bengals

Paycor stadium had just witnessed an offensive shootout that would go down in history. Joe had thrown for 416 yards in a playoff win against the Patriots. Upstairs, his suite was much quieter than the stands where celebration still rang heavy and people filed out quickly, eager to see who the team would match up against next weekend.

Joe’s best friend Zacciah sipped on his beer, replaying the last drive with you and a few other friends that had been invited. “Four touchdowns? Dude was unbelievable tonight.” A few of the other guys nodded, replaying the last drive in their mind where Joe turned a 3rd and 22 into first and goal with a 60 yard bomb to Tee. Zacciah still felt like he had to pinch himself during these moments. He’d been with Joe through middle school, the awkward bowl cut phase that haunted them to this day. Then there was the heaviest partying days when he was third string at Ohio state, set for a job in finance and maybe a move to New York.

That New York job quickly faded when he watched his friend leave Ohio for the bayou and come back with one of the all time great seasons for a college quarterback, giving him the keys to a franchise he still happily carried on his back.

There were days that they’d play video games in Columbus and Robin would drive up to do Joe’s laundry. Now, thousands of dollars were chump change to him. And somehow this success, this talent suited Joe. It made sense that his overly determined, refuse to lose attitude, UFC obsessed best friend would be one of the premiere gunslingers. That tracks.

The baby thing…that was much harder to wrap his brain around.

“You’re really carrying a kid in there,” Zacciah said suddenly.

You raised an eyebrow. “That’s generally how pregnancy works.”

“Yeah but like…” he gestured vaguely, searching for words. “Joe’s kid.”

“Still very much how pregnancy works.”

“I know it’s just, insane.”

You laughed, placing your water bottle down. “Do you wanna feel him?”

He looked at you like you’d spoken a different language then collected himself. “Seriously?”

“Now’s as good of a time as any, he’s been pretty active all night. I think he knows game days are important. Teach ‘em young, I guess.”

You saw him hesitating a bit, not exactly knowing where to put his hands so you gently grabbed one, placing his palm to the side of your belly. Zacciah held his breath waiting in anticipation.

He was about to make a joke about how your baby had performance anxiety but then he felt a small thump against his hand. Another kick followed immediately after, stronger this time and he froze, “holy shit. That’s him?”

“Yes,” you smiled at his bewilderment.

The rest of the room became nonexistent to him after that, peppering you with a million questions about if he kicks eating certain foods (yes) or hearing different voices (definitely yes) convinced that pregnancy is too foreign of a concept to become an expert in one night.

Joe came upstairs after his press conference, hugged his guests and made plans to watch the other game at his house, inviting whoever wanted to come over, to join him. He found you and Zacciah in the leather chairs facing the turf, his best friend standing in next to you, looking like he was seconds away from crying.

The quarterback noticed immediately. “What’s going on?”

Zacciah shook his head, letting out a quiet laugh. “Man,” he said, pointing at your stomach. “Your kid just kicked me.”

Joe’s expression changed instantly, and he looped an arm around your shoulders, his other hand resting at the bottom of your bump. “Yeah? He does that.”

“You sound like a proud dad already.”

“I am.”

Zacciah looked at him for a second before shaking his head again, still smiling.

“You’ve done a lot of cool stuff, man,” he said gently as Joe glanced at him. “But this?” he said. “This might be the coolest thing you’ve ever done.”

“Cooler than ‘Cartier glasses, I won’t even peek at you?’” You chimed in. “I’m offended for Micah.”

“That was a close second, you guys created a person that kicks and stuff. Takes the cake by far.” Zacciah says and grabs his drink to distract himself from getting more emotional. His best friend is gonna be someone’s dad and as crazy as it sounds, it’s starting to make a lot of sense.

Week 26

AFC Championship Weekend - Colts at Bengals

Using the frigid weather as an excuse to layer up more than usual is another reason why you two planned to have this baby when you did. The long black coat you chose over a hoodie over a long sleeve covered the very obvious baby bump underneath. At least well enough that wouldn’t confirm anything to an already speculating general public.

Sasha had sent you a tweet last week from a cincy insider claiming they had an inside source about QB1 becoming a dad soon. They didn’t know how soon because Joe kept everything close to the chest but word on the street was that Joe might be on diaper duty soon. The Twitter thread was enough to send a chill down your spine but they also had no proof, no due date and definitely no verbal confirmation from anyone that mattered.

So needless to say, it was nice to hide behind a bulky winter coat while tailgating because you didn’t stick out like a sore thumb.

Once the game started, you felt a shift in the atmosphere and Joe looked good early. The offense was firing on all cylinders, looking like the well-oiled machine he’d been willing into existence since the early days of camp. But halfway through the first quarter, things changed.

You saw it the second it happened.

Joe stepped up in the pocket to throw and a defensive tackle came free, shooting the gap, slamming into him just as the ball left his hand.

The hit was brutal.

He hit the turf with a crunch, his shoulder taking most of the impact before the rest of his body could even register the hit.

The stadium went silent in that collective inhale that happens when seventy thousand people realize something might be wrong.

You stood up before you even realized you were moving because Joe was still down. It wasn’t long, just long enough for your heart to travel up your esophagus.

Then he rolled over and sat up, trainers checking him over as the crowd all let out the breath they were holding right along with you.

Everyone watched as he walked over to the sideline and immediately entered the blue medical tent. You sank back into your seat, hands automatically resting over your stomach.

“It’s okay,” someone behind you said. Probably Robin, you really weren’t sure. “He got up.”

You nodded, but your eyes never left the sideline until he was back on the bench holding a tablet like nothing ever happened. The only sign was after halftime seeing a black brace supporting his non-throwing shoulder and the heating pad he tucked under the coat when he wasn’t on the field. Some of his movements on the bench looked stiff from your perspective but the adrenaline rush must’ve been through the roof because when he was actually playing, you couldn’t tell.

The entire second half was an emotional roller coaster, lead changes, big stops, momentum swings on both sides. With two minutes left the Bengals were ahead. All the defense needed was one stop.

One.

You stood near the glass as the opposing offense took the field, the entire stadium on its feet. The first play gained twenty yards. The second pushed them near midfield. Joe stood on the sideline, helplessly watching the drive unfold with that still, focused expression he always had when things slipped slightly out of control.

There were 12 seconds left when the opposing quarterback dropped back and heaved the ball downfield. One last effort to make a play. Nikki held your hand from her seat, eyes closed because she was too nervous to watch. The receiver came down with it in the end zone, ending the Bengals’ season.

The drive home was pretty quiet, not even music could mask the dreary feeling of losing at home, one game away from the Super Bowl on a freaking Hail Mary.

You walked into his arms after removing all of your layers, trying to see where his emotions were after approximately four hours of high intensity.

“No more practice, no more games.” He sighed, kissing the top of your head.

“Played really well though,” you tried. “How’s your shoulder?”

“Sore.” He admits. “But I’ll live. Got a baby to carry around in a few months so I could use the recovery time.”

Week 27

Offseason, week one

When Joe said recovery time, you thought he meant massages or ice baths.

He meant sleep. And lots of it.

You left for the office at 6:30AM and he was asleep. He was still out by the time you got home at 3:15PM.

“The guy’s on nap number two already today.” Morgan notes, “I was gonna knock and make sure he’s alive but I don’t want the glare.”

“You’re smart. I’ll go up there.”

Quietly entering the room, you smiled to yourself watching him peacefully enjoy not having a schedule.

“Did you at least eat lunch today?”

He didn’t move at first, tucked haphazardly in the blanket, pregnancy pillow fully claimed. “Asking if you’ve eaten is my line.”

“Well I’m borrowing it. Did you?”

Joe cracked one eye open, smirking. “Yeah I had something earlier,” he pats the open space in front of him, lifting a hand to make a grabbing gesture.

“Uh oh, grabby hand. You must be really tired,” you sat down next to him anyway as your hand found his hair.

“You’re not supposed to judge me during recovery week.”

“I’m not judging,” you counter, “I’m making an observation.”

He sighs. “How was work?”

“It was fine. I peed thirteen times today.”

“Nice. That a record?”

“So far, yeah.”

Joe lets out a laugh, both eyes open but he still looks tired. “Nap with me?”

“I have things to do still, not all of us get an offseason.”

“You just worked for eight whole hours and then you worked out and showered. Take a break.” He tries reaching for you but you know he’s gonna try to pull you down so you scoot away from him, making sure you’re just out of reach. “And it’s not just the offseason, it’s officially baby season. We need all the sleep we can get.”

“We do…” you relent, lifting up the duvet and sliding in next to him. Your head rests on his chest, feeling him slip his large hand under your shirt to rest it on your bare skin, a light kick welcoming him. He sighs and you reach up to kiss his neck before closing your eyes. Maybe two naps a day isn’t the worst thing in the world.

[mattymartin]

↳ MAT BARZAL PREGAME | NYI v. SJS | 3.8.26

[barzysbaby]

I don’t really know why, but this is like the sluttiest thing he could’ve done

[signedwithluv]

Riley Green X S!nger fem reader

Riley had always loved the road. The hum of the bus wheels, the blur of landscapes passing by, and the energy of performing live for his fans were all parts of the life he adored. But this tour was different. It had a new, exciting edge to it, and the reason was Y/N L/N.

Y/N was an up-and-coming artist with a voice that was both raw and enchanting. Her music had a soulful depth that resonated with audiences, and her lyrics were poignant and heartfelt. Riley had noticed her talent early on and invited her to open for his tour, knowing she would captivate the crowd just as much as he did. What he hadn’t anticipated was how captivated he would become by her.

Rumors had started to spread like wildfire. Fans and industry insiders alike speculated about Riley and Y/N’s relationship. The two of them seemed inseparable, often seen laughing and talking backstage, and the chemistry between them was undeniable. Then came the whispers about a duet a song they had supposedly written together. Fans were buzzing with excitement, and the anticipation was building up to a fever pitch.

Riley and Y/N had been trying to keep things under wraps. They cherished the moments they had in private, away from the prying eyes of the world. They spent late nights writing music, sharing stories, and slowly falling in love. Their song, “You Look Like You Love Me,” was the culmination of their shared experiences and emotions, a melody that told their story.

As the tour progressed, the day of their big reveal grew closer. Tonight, they would perform their song together for the first time, and Riley had something special planned. They had kept their relationship a secret for long enough, and he was ready to share his feelings with the world.

Backstage, just before the show, Riley found Y/N in her dressing room. She was sitting in front of the mirror, her guitar resting on her lap, looking more nervous than he had ever seen her. Riley walked in, his presence immediately calming her.

“Hey,” he said softly, sitting down beside her. “You ready for this?”

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes filled with a mixture of excitement and anxiety. “I think so. Are you?”

Riley took her hand in his, squeezing it gently. “We’ve got this. The fans are going to love the song, and they’re going to love us together. I promise.”

They spent a few more minutes together, going over the song one last time before it was time to take the stage. The venue was packed, the crowd buzzing with anticipation. Y/N performed her set flawlessly, her voice captivating everyone in the room. Then it was Riley’s turn. He took the stage with his usual charisma, performing his hits and thrilling the audience.

Finally, the moment arrived. Riley paused his set and addressed the crowd. “I’ve got a special treat for y’all tonight,” he announced, his voice echoing through the arena. “There’s a new artist I want to introduce to you, someone incredibly talented and very special to me. Please welcome Y/N L/N!”

The crowd erupted in applause as Y/N walked back on stage, her guitar slung over her shoulder. Riley joined her, his guitar in hand, and they began to play “You Look Like You Love Me.” Their voices blended perfectly, the chemistry between them palpable. The audience was mesmerized, completely drawn into the intimate performance.

As they reached the chorus, Riley stepped forward, his eyes never leaving Y/N’s. The lyrics spoke of a love that couldn’t be hidden, a connection that was undeniable. And then, as the final notes of the song echoed through the venue, Riley made his move.

He gently set his guitar down and walked over to Y/N, pulling her close. The crowd held its breath, sensing something monumental was about to happen. Riley looked deep into Y/N’s eyes, his heart pounding in his chest. Then, without hesitation, he leaned in and kissed her.

The arena erupted into cheers and applause, the fans going wild. Flashbulbs popped, capturing the moment for eternity. Riley and Y/N stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world around them fading away. In that instant, everything felt right.

As they pulled away, Riley took the microphone once more. “I guess the rumors are true,” he said with a grin, looking at Y/N with pure adoration. “We wrote that song together, and it means a lot to both of us. And yes, we’re together. She’s not just an incredible artist; she’s the love of my life.”

The crowd roared in approval, their cheers echoing through the night. Y/N, blushing and beaming, took the microphone from Riley. “Thank you all so much,” she said, her voice filled with emotion. “This tour has been an amazing journey, and sharing this moment with you all is something we’ll never forget.”

The rest of the concert was a blur of energy and excitement. Riley and Y/N performed with a newfound intensity, their love fueling their music. As the night came to a close, they stood together on stage, hand in hand, basking in the adoration of their fans.

Backstage, as the adrenaline began to fade, Riley and Y/N found a quiet moment alone. “We did it,” Riley said, his voice filled with awe and gratitude.

Y/N smiled, resting her head on his shoulder. “Yeah, we did. And it was perfect.”

As they stood there, wrapped in each other’s embrace, they knew that this was just the beginning. Their love and music would continue to grow, and together, they would face whatever came their way. The road ahead was uncertain, but one thing was clear: they would travel it together, hand in hand, their hearts forever intertwined. The concert was over, and the crowd had slowly trickled out of the venue, leaving behind an empty but still electrified space. Riley and Y/N had basked in the afterglow of their performance, enjoying the lingering cheers and applause that had filled the arena. But now, as the night deepened and the lights dimmed, it was just the two of them again.

The tour bus was parked out back, away from the commotion of the fans and crew. It was their sanctuary, a place where they could be themselves without the prying eyes of the world. As they climbed aboard, the hum of the engine and the gentle swaying motion provided a comforting backdrop.

Riley closed the door behind them, the click of the latch signaling the start of their private time. The interior of the bus was cozy, with plush seating and warm lighting that cast a soft glow over everything. Y/N was still buzzing from the performance, her heart racing from the adrenaline and the kiss they had shared on stage.

Riley turned to her, his eyes dark with a mix of desire and affection. "You were amazing tonight," he said, his voice low and husky.

Y/N smiled, her cheeks still flushed from the excitement. "So were you," she replied, stepping closer to him. The air between them was charged with an electric tension, a palpable heat that seemed to grow with each passing second.

Riley reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair away from her face. His touch sent a shiver down her spine, and she leaned into him, craving more of his closeness his lips inches from hers.

Before she could respond, Riley closed the distance, capturing her lips in a passionate kiss. It was as if all the pent-up emotions of the evening were pouring out, a fiery mix of love and desire that consumed them both. Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened.

Riley's hands roamed over her back, exploring the curves of her body through the thin fabric of her dress. The intensity of his touch sent waves of heat through her, and she responded in kind, her fingers tangling in his hair as she pressed against him.

They moved together, a tangle of limbs and heated breaths, until they reached the back of the bus. Riley guided her to the bed, gently laying her down on the soft sheets. He hovered over her for a moment, his eyes locking onto hers with a look of pure adoration and desire.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N nodded, her heart pounding with anticipation. "I've never been more sure," she replied, her voice steady despite the butterflies in her stomach.

With a deep, rumbling groan, Riley captured her lips again, his hands beginning to explore her body with more urgency. He slid the straps of her dress off her shoulders, revealing more of her soft skin. He kissed a trail down her neck, savoring the taste of her, the warmth of her skin beneath his lips.

Y/N's hands found the hem of his shirt, tugging it upwards until he pulled back just long enough to strip it off. She marveled at the sight of him, his toned muscles illuminated by the soft light. She traced her fingers over his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart under her touch.

Riley's hands found the zipper of her dress, slowly pulling it down until the fabric pooled around her waist. He kissed his way down her collarbone, his lips leaving a trail of fire in their wake. When he reached the swell of her breasts, he paused, looking up at her with a smoldering gaze.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice filled with awe.

Y/N blushed under his intense gaze, her body aching for more of his touch. "Riley, please," she murmured, her voice breathless with need.

He didn't need any further encouragement. With a swift, fluid motion, he removed the rest of her dress, leaving her in just her underwear. His hands roamed over her exposed skin, eliciting a moan from her as he kissed and caressed every inch of her.

Y/N's fingers fumbled with the button of his jeans, her urgency mirroring his. Riley helped her, quickly shedding the rest of his clothes until they were both bare, their bodies pressed together in a heated embrace. The sensation of skin against skin was almost overwhelming, the intensity of their connection taking her breath away.

Riley's hands were everywhere, exploring, teasing, and driving her wild with need. He kissed her deeply, his tongue tangling with hers in a dance of passion. When he finally moved lower, his mouth trailing kisses down her stomach, Y/N could barely contain her desire.

"Riley," she gasped, her fingers gripping the sheets as his lips found the sensitive spot between her thighs. The sensation was almost too much to bear, and she cried out, her body arching towards him.

Riley took his time, savoring every moment, every sound she made. When he finally moved back up, positioning himself above her.

“I love you,” he whispered, his voice filled with emotion.

“I love you too,” she replied, her voice shaking with the intensity of her feelings.

With a gentle, yet insistent motion, Riley entered her, the sensation sending a shockwave of pleasure through both of them. They moved together in perfect harmony, their bodies finding a rhythm that was both urgent and tender. Each thrust, each touch, each kiss brought them closer to the edge, their connection deepening with every moment.

The world outside ceased to exist. It was just the two of them, lost in their own world of passion and love. As the intensity built, their movements became more frantic, driven by an overwhelming need to be as close as possible.

When they finally reached the peak, it was a wave of pure ecstasy that crashed over them, leaving them breathless and spent. Riley collapsed beside her, pulling her into his arms as they lay there, their bodies still entwined.

For what felt like ages, they stayed like that, wrapped in each other’s embrace, the steady beat of Riley’s heart a comforting rhythm against her cheek. The world outside could wait. For now, it was just the two of them, lost in each others eyes.

[cilliansmesoftly]

worst way

pairing: riley green x fem!reader

summary: riley needs you after a long month of tour and missing you

warnings: smut!, pining, yearning, breaking stuff, multiple rounds, etc.

wc: 4.4k

tonight was the night riley was coming home. after a month long of not seeing each other, well besides facetime. he couldn’t wait another minute. tour was long. and it isn’t even over, he just has a few weeks before he’s out on the road again and he intended to spend every minute of his time off with his girl. his y/n.

he could picture her now.. standing in the kitchen, or maybe even the living room, comfy clothes on with her favorite show playing on the television. she’d be chewing on her bottom lip, no doubt leaving cherry red imprints from the pressure, just itching to be back in his arms.

at least, he was itching to be back in hers. he didn’t know what had gotten into him. on the ride from the airport, his sweatpants had been doing no good hiding the excitement he was feeling. to shield from even more humiliation, he took his carry-on bag and held it in front of the growing need. his hands were sweaty and he kept pushing his hair back with his hands, a nervous habit he’d picked up since growing it out.

why was he so nervous?

it’s not like you haven’t been together for about a year now, and friends longer than that. but, god, he was feeling like a teenager going on a first date.

the ride was shorter than riley anticipated, and he could feel his heartbeat in his throat as he got out the truck and hauled his bags and guitar case up the steps to the farmhouse he got built a couple years back.

home never felt so good.

and he knew it would feel even better once he got y/n back in his grasp.

however, when he opened the front door, no television was on, no sounds were heard, and no beautiful woman was standing there waiting for him. he sighed, setting down his bags in the middle of the room and fishing his phone out of his pocket.

he clicked y/n’s contact and brought his phone up to his ear.

ring…. ring…

he was starting to get worried. did she meet someone while he was away? no, she’d never do that. maybe she’s out getting some groceries, because god knows what was left in the fridge from the time he left to now. right as his heart rate picked back up, he heard a click and then her gorgeous voice through the speakers.

“hey, baby.” she said softly. “what’s up?”

“hi, honey. well, i came home expecting you to tackle me to the ground and shower me with love and kisses like you normally do, but there’s not a soul here.” he walked to his bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed. it was made, but he could tell where her pretty little head had been laying on his pillow.

“oh, shit. i’m so, so sorry. i went to pick up some food for us. you’re a little earlier than what i was planning for.” she sighed into the phone, he heard a car door shut and then an engine ignited. “i’m on my way back now, though. i’ll be home in, like, 10 minutes?”

“okay, baby. i can’t wait to see you.” riley had a small smile glued to his face, a blush coating his cheeks all the way down to his tanned chest. “be careful, i love you.”

“i love you, more. bye.” he could hear the shy grin in her voice and he could feel his heart clench at the sound.

he figured he could kill some time by taking a quick shower and washing off all the dirty airport germs off of him. so, he stood to his sore feet and grudged into the bathroom. he stripped himself of his sweatshirt, then his sneakers and sweatpants. he looked at himself in the mirror while the shower water ran. he’d worked out a lot during the times he wasn’t performing, just out of boredom and partly because he hated being in that cramped bus for 10, maybe even more, hours a day.

as he stepped into the shower, he let the water run down his face and back, washing off his worries and stress down the drain along with it. he was so happy to be home. so happy to have a break. and so happy he was about 7 minutes away from being with his best girl again.

y/n walked into the house with bags of takeout in her hands. she huffed as she tripped over riley’s bags in the room.

“riley?” she called through the house, setting the bags onto the counter. when she didn’t hear a response from anything but water running and humming, she knew exactly where to go. she tiptoed into the bathroom and started to take off her clothes. she could see riley’s silhouette through the white curtain hung up and even from that, her body ached for him. she quietly pulled back the curtain, he was facing away from her, so she slid her hands around his body. from his back to his torso, she ran her fingers all over the soft, tan skin. he jumped at first, but quickly turned around and gripped her cheeks in his hands.

“hi, baby.” she smiled up at him. he had shaved his beard into just a mustache and she could feel her stomach flutter at the dirty thoughts running through her mind. she pictured that mustache on her lips, kissing her wildly and so loving that her mouth would be bruised. she pictured that mustache kissing down her body, going between her legs and loving on her like she hadn’t felt in so long.

she was broken out of her fantasy by riley’s lips capturing hers in a searing kiss. the bathroom was filled with hot fog and was suffocating her lungs, but that kiss allowed her to take a deep breath that she hadn’t been able to catch since he’d left.

riley laughed as she squealed when he picked her up so her legs would wrap around his torso. his cock was already hard at the thought of having her right then. against the cold tiles of the shower. “my girl.” he breathed into her neck once they had broken the kiss. “you don’t know how much i missed you.”

“don’t i?” she was scratching the back of his head with one hand and clinging onto his back with the other. riley groaned into her skin as she pulled his hair gently. “take me to bed.”

he didn’t have to be told twice. he shut the water off and stepped out onto the cool floor. he laid y/n down gently on the bed and leaned back, captivated by the sight of her. her hair, a little wet from stray water droplets, was splayed behind her head onto the sheets. her body was tanned from the summer sun, no doubt taking advantage of the deck out back.

“see something you like? just take it.” she kicked her feet up to place them on his chest as she giggled. she admired his body, too. strong arms with veins running all the way down to his forearms and hands. tanned chest with a thin gold chain dangling from his neck. his body was work of god.

“don’t threaten me with a good time, honey.” riley grabbed her ankles and kissed each leg before leaning down against her. her skin against his felt like heaven. this was better than what he imagined. he pushed the hair against her forehead away, taking in every part, every detail of her face. it was an intimate moment, one that neither of them took for granted. it’s like they were falling back in love all over again.

“you seriously have no idea how much i missed you, riley green.” y/n sighed, brushing a hand through his hair. he grabbed her hand and kissed her palm, melting into her touch.

“how much did you miss me?” he was already panting, trembling even. y/n was so turned on she could barely stand it she kept trying to rub her legs together to ease some of the ache, but riley kept his hands on the inside of her thighs with a such a firm grip that she couldn’t move a muscle.

“enough to call you every night and listen to your voice. pretend it was your fingers all over me, making me wet, playing with me.” riley groaned, laying his head down on her chest. his wet hair was cold and it sent a shock through her, but it did wonders to cool down her blazing skin. “did you touch yourself to me?” she asked into his ear.

“‘course i did, baby. couldn’t go through a single day without you there with me. don’t matter if it was through a screen.” he kissed her chest, sucking a dark mark onto her skin. she moaned softly and it caused riley to ground his hips into hers, the head of his hard cock hitting her clit just right. “god, baby. gonna fuck you on every square inch of this house tonight.”

“please,” she whimpered, closing her legs tighter around his body, trying to bring him closer to her.

“we got all the time in the world.” he leaned back and cupped her cheek in his hand. she cuddled into his touch with a pout on her face. “let me take my time with you tonight, honey.”

she nodded softly, leaning up to catch his lips with hers. he slid his tongue over her lower lip, begging for entrance and when she granted it, he stifled a moan into her mouth. she tasted like strawberries and heaven. he couldn’t get enough of this girl. he moved his mouth down to her cheek, over her chin, down to her neck where he sucked another tattoo kiss onto her skin, left to be purple and bruised tomorrow. he brought his mouth to her nipple and she jumped at the sensation, she hadn’t been touched in so long. he licked around the bud before sucking it into his mouth and releasing it with a soft pop.

“you’re gonna be the death of me.” she whined into her hand. her hips were restlessly trying to gain friction from anything they could reach. riley sat down on his knees and hooked his arms around the back of her legs. she gasped as he dragged her to the edge of the bed. her thighs were trembling as he kissed the inside of them, breathing her in as he did. y/n felt the facial hair on his upper lip tickling her skin. he was driving her crazy. she hadn't seen this man in a month. he didn't do anything extravagant, he didn't bring home flowers, he didn't bring wine. he just wanted her.

she was broken out of her thoughts by the feeling of his tongue licking a straight line up her core. she gasped and her hips jumped off the bed. riley shook his head against her, his nose brushing her clit back and forth as he did so, and laid his muscled arm over her hips to hold her still.

"you're so sweet, honey." he moaned against her. the vibrations made her throw her head back against the mattress, eyes rolling to the back of her head. she bit her lip as he sucked her bundle of nerves into his mouth, his fingers finding their way to her entrance. he spread her arousal with his thick digits, licking off what was left. "mmm." he prodded at her entrance again, just barely entering before pulling them back out. he was teasing her and it was torture.

"riley, please." she breathed out, panting. she lifted her head up just so she could catch his gaze and that shit-eating grin he wore made her groan and throw herself back against the bed.

"please, what, sweetheart?" he smirked. he knew what she wanted, he just wanted to hear her say it.

"just fuck me, please." she whined. he smacked her thigh and she hissed.

"that's all you had to say." he smiled, kissing her clit and the inside of her thighs sweetly before leaning up and capturing her lips with his. y/n hummed into it, taking a grip of his hair and pulling slightly. he groaned, reaching down to stroke his cock a few times before lining it up with her pretty pussy. he looked back at her eyes, her mouth open and panting, her cheeks rosy and flustered. she was so beautiful. even when she wasn't trying to be. he was suddenly taken back to the first day they met. sophomore year of college and he thought she was the most breathtaking thing at jacksonville state.

"what's going on in that handsome head of yours." y/n huffed, pushing a stray hair behind his ear.

"i just love you." he shook his head, grabbing her hand and kissing her wrist. "so much."

"you have me for the rest of your life, riley. you are the most precious thing i have." she leaned up to kiss him, slow and passionate. "i love you."

he pushed into her, moaning loudly from how tightly she enveloped him. she sucked a breath in through her teeth, the stretch was delicious and what made it even sweeter was riley leaning his forehead down onto hers, locking those deep blue irises onto her e/c ones. he slowly started to thrust into her. the tamed patch of hair below his stomach was brushing against her bud of nerves and she bit her lip to contain the graphic noises begging, screaming, to be released. she could feel the imprint of him in her stomach and she grabbed his hand and placed it on the point so he could feel it. riley whimpered and thrust harder into her.

"god, yes." she yelled out, wrapping her ankles around his back to keep him close to her. her nails were raking down his back, no doubt leaving red marks in their wake. "harder."

riley quickly obliged, hiking her leg up around his waist further to hit an angle he hadn't before that had y/n moaning almost pornographically. "you have no idea how much i missed this pussy, sweetheart."

"you have no idea how much i missed this cock." she retorted, turning her head to the side so she could kiss his stubbly cheek. she pushed his head to her chest and he could hear her wild heartbeat. he could hear her whimpers right in his ear and he wished he had something to record this so he could cherish it forever. his hips picked up speed in their ruts against her. he felt like a mad-man. he was touch starved for too long and so, so wrapped up in her. she might as well be tattooed against his skull from how much he thinks about her.

his thrusts were so forceful, the framed picture above his bed frame was hitting the wall repeatedly and eventually just fell back behind the bed. they could hear the glass shattering, but they could care less. riley picked y/n up and turned her around so she was sitting on her hands and knees. she laid her head down onto the soft sheets, arching her back softly so her ass was in better view. he rubbed the soft skin soothingly before smacking it lightly. y/n giggled and then groaned when he pushed into her again. his had one leg on the floor and the other was propped up and bent. his hands were wrapped around both of her hips and he pulled her back against his cock. he was hitting so deep inside of her and y/n could feel the coil inside of her tightening even more. riley was no better than her, he could usually last a while, but, because of the prolonged distance, his tummy was fluttering and his cock was twitching relentlessly. his body was begging for a release.

"y/n." he whimpered, his pounding thrusts against her were getting sloppy and he reached around her to toy with her clit.

"oh, i know, baby. me too." she was breathless, her knuckles were white from gripping the sheets so hard and she was sure she would have bruises all over her backside tomorrow from how rough he was pushing into her. "cum inside of me. please, please." she begged. she wanted all of him, she was so close she had tears in her eyes.

"oh, my." he threw his head back before leaning down against her back. he kissed all over her neck, her shoulders. his fingers were still rubbing circles onto her clit and her body was collapsing beneath her. "i'm gonna cum, honey." he thrust a few more times, working her clit harshly. she was screaming his name, a thin sheen of sweat coating both of their bodies. the coil in her belly snapped quickly at one particularly hard thrust and she curled into herself while riley was milking her for everything she had. a few more thrusts and riley was completely undone. he released into her, pushing his cum into her further before laying down against her back. she turned her head so she could kiss his lips. "i love you. i love you." he muttered against her skin.

"i love you." she kissed the top of his head. riley leaned up and pulled out slowly, watching the mix of their climaxes leak from her core and onto the duvet. "i broke home takeout."

-

they sat at the island in the kitchen, ravishing their food like two starving cavemen. she got riley and her some burgers from his favorite spot in town. they laughed and shared fries with each other. they fed each other like an annoying couple they would've made fun of back in college.

"do you think we would've been friends in high school?" she wondered, taking a sip of her cold busch light. riley brought his lips to his drink, too. one thing he loved about her is that she actually enjoyed drinking beer, maybe even more than he did.

"absolutely not," he wiped his mouth with a napkin. "i was a little shit in high school."

"you were a little shit in college, too." she giggled, pushing his shoulder. they were just sitting in their underwear, but nothing had ever felt more comfortable. more like home.

"i was worse in high school. ask momma." he laughed. "got cops called on me one time for poppin' fireworks in my principal's yard."

"riley green!" her jaw-dropped. "and to think, the worst thing you did in college was get kicked out of a bar for fightin' a guy."

"he was hittin' on you. had to do somethin'." he shrugged, smiling while taking a bite of another fry.

"you didn't even like me like that back then... did you?" she side-eyed him suggestively.

"baby, i've liked you since we first met at the gym." he slipped his hand up her leg, rubbing her thigh with his calloused fingers. rough partly from years of playing guitar and partly from the hard work he's done in his life. "when you didn't know how to work the equipment, i was hooked on you."

"oh, ew!" she scrunched up her nose. "i was wearing stained sweatpants and an old lynyrd skynyrd shirt."

"hence my attraction." he breathed out a laugh, his fingertips still rubbing over her skin. she clutched her hand to his and brought it up to her lips, kissing his the pad of his fingers.

"why didn't you tell me?" she asked softly, placing his hand against her cheek. it was warm and she leaned into his touch.

"thought you were out of my league, to be honest." he rubbed his thumb across her cheekbone, tracing her freckles from the warm alabama sun. "i thought you were the prettiest thing i'd ever seen and i didn't wanna embarrass myself by askin' you out, so i figured being friends was a good way to keep you in my life."

she fell into a fit of giggles and riley scoffed with a smile on his face, pulling back from her. "yeah, laugh at my misery. it's fine." he went to stand, but she pulled him back down, trying to calm herself.

"no, it's not that! i swear!" she bit down on her lip to contain more laughter. "that first day," she took a breath. "i fell in love with you, too."

"pft, nah." he stood up, collecting their food wrappers and walked to the trash can to throw it away.

"pft, yeah!" she stood up, too. she watched as he washed his hands and he shook his head. "you don't believe me? you were starting quarterback and completely jacked, might i add. plus, you helped me with gym equipment without making me feel stupid. i texted mom about you that very night."

"you serious?" he braced his hands on either side of the sink and she couldn't help but catch a glimpse of the veins running down his arms, she licked her lips and looked back up at him, nodding. "alright," he threw his arms up in surrender. "i believe you."

"so that means we wasted.... what?" she started counting up the months.

"at least 10 months." he finished her thought for her and she brought her hands up to her face. she could've been with him from the very first moment they met, but they both thought too lowly of themselves to make a move.

"riley, that's awful." she groaned through her hands. he laughed and walked up to her, pulling her hands away from her face and wrapping them around his body. he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her lips sweetly.

"we got all of our lives to make up for that time, baby." he mumbled against her. she moved her hands up to wrap around the back of his neck. his fingertips tickled down her sides before picking her up and sitting her on the counter top. he laid her down gently and kissed down her neck, all the way to her navel. she brought him back up to her and captured his lips with her own, licking over his bottom lip. he opened his mouth further and their tongues danced together, even though they tasted like their dinner, they couldn't care less.

"make love to me." she whispered against his lips. he let his hands trail around her body before moving behind her back and unclasping her bra in one swift move. he bowed his head to kiss around her breasts, then down to her belly. he traced the hem of her panties, blue and lacy, his favorite. he pulled them down her legs, his fingers causing goosebumps to raise on her legs and follow the path he took down to her ankles. he threw the undergarments somewhere towards the living room and kissed his way back up to her lips. he kissed her lips and pulled his boxers down his thighs, letting them drop and pool around his feet. he grabbed the back of her thighs and slowly dragged her further to the edge of the counter. she leaned up to slowly stroke his cock. he leaned his head back in pleasure and she kissed the open space of his neck, licking around the stubbly skin. he lifted his head back up and kissed her sensually. this was a different kiss. it was passionate, but it was more like a promise. a promise of 'i'm yours'.

she lined his cock up with her entrance and he pushed into her slowly, laying her back down flat against the cool marble counter. his thrusts were slow, but rough. he left his branding kisses on her neck and chest. their moans were soft and intimate, a low, but intense sound of pure adoration and infatuation. y/n stretched her arms out behind her head, accidentally knocking off the decorative wooden bowl in the middle of the island. "sorry." she whispered.

"ain't worried 'bout nothing but you." he responded, his face tucked into her neck and his cock working wonders on her. she was already close. she was so full of love, so full of him. she wanted to cry, she loved him so much. and he was thinking the same because he whispered in her ear, "i love you."

"i love you so much, ri." she whined. she felt his cock twitch inside of her, but she wanted him to hold out. she wanted this feeling to last so much longer than it could. "don't cum yet." she breathed out, brushing through his hair with her fingers. "wanna feel you."

"yes ma'am." he kissed underneath the lobe of her ear and she shuddered, trying to prolong her peak. he slowed down even more and y/n could feel every vein, every curve of his cock. they felt like puzzle pieces, perfectly made for each other. the way he pulled out just to push roughly back in was driving her mad, it was getting harder to hold back. "cum for me, sweetheart. know you need to. can feel you squeezin' 'round me."

she whimpered softly and all he had to do was reach down to circle her clit and she was done for. her climax hit like no other had and she was clenching around him so tightly that riley came right after she did, kissing all over her face, her neck, and chest.

"we're makin' a mess of this house." she laughed as she looked at the mess of clothes around the floors, the bowl spilled out onto the hardwood, not to mention the fact that they had to pull the bed out from the wall sometime to clean the glass up from the picture frame.

"y'know i'm gonna have to write a song 'bout this." he chuckled and she rolled her eyes. "even though they're all about you already." he kissed her cheek and she blushed.

"let's keep it that way, baby." she kissed his lips then hopped down from the counter, brushing her body up against his. she leaned down to pick up her bra, pushing herself onto his pelvic bone with a grin on her face.

he grunted and she leaned back up, but he grabbed her arm before she could walk away. he caught her lips with his and picked her up, throwing her over his shoulder. she shrieked and kicked her legs, trying to get him to put her down. she was in a fit of laughter by the time he tossed her onto the couch. "i still want you in the worst way, darlin'. you ain't getting away from me for the rest of the night."