#go listen to roommates by the home team!!!

[wastingawayinmyroom]

@rosekillermicrofic - prompt: falling - word count: 235 - warnings: mcd

The first time Evan asks him to dance, it's on a balcony, outside the crowded club, and Barty is powerless to say no.

"Just like that," Evan whispers in his ear, as they move their bodies together. There is no music outside; they don't need it.

The invent their own beat, their own melody. They create something new. Just like they created the bond between them.

Barty feels himself falling deeper and deeper into the blue of Evan's eyes, the subtle roughness of his voice, and he's powerless to say no to that, too. He doesn’t want to, anyway.

He feels himself smile. He doesn't know if Evan can see, since the sun went down ages ago, but he knows Evan can feel it, and he feels Evan smile back too.

...

The last time they dance, it’s in the kitchen, the warm glow of evening sunlight filling the space.

”You can’t do this forever,” Evan whispers, lips brushing against the shell of Barty’s ear.

Barty doesn’t want to acknowledge that. “I can. I will.”

Evan shakes his head, the movement slight and subtle. “I’m already gone, Barty. You need to let go.”

His voice is soft yet confident, and Barty finds himself wanting to bottle the sound. “Then what?”

Evan smiles. The light dances across his forehead, and he leans in. “You live, love. For me, hm?”

And when Evan Rosier, the beloved fragment of his mind, disappears, Barty realizes he is powerless to say no to this too.

[gremlingottoosilly]

I met a guy in the Summer (dilf!Konig x fem!Reader)

Your boyfriend is an asshole. Luckily, his hot dad just returned from deployment. CW and Tags: Cheating, dub-con, size kink, daddy kink, age gap(reader in 20s, Konig is early 40s), Konig is a pervert, slightly obsessive Konig, love(and lust) at first sight, fingering, dom!Konig Word count: 3713 AO3

“Just one more game, babe, don’t be a buzzkill. I don’t want to end at a loss.” You didn’t want to be a buzzkill, of course. You simply wanted to be a good girlfriend, have some domestically cozy date, and for your boyfriend to at least try to put an effort into being with you. It wasn’t much to ask for, really. You hoped so, at least. You didn’t want to be an annoying, nagging girlfriend who only ever waits for another reason to yell at him, but your patience started to run thin. 

You spend the past three hours either listening to his apathetic rambling about the shows he watched – really, you wanted to invest in stuff he liked, but an abnormally large amount of animes he talked about had 1000-year-old girls who looked like they were 10, wearing inappropriate outfits, and you started to raise the alarm. 

You also watched him play – and also listened to his rage quitting and angry voice messages to his team that, honestly, made you slightly anxious. You never liked loud people, people who were so easy to rage about something as silly as some colorful video game with too many characters to look after. 

So, like a good girlfriend would – you wanted to be a good girlfriend, he was such a nice guy before you started dating, and you need something to think about besides the tremendous amount of study work you are doing for college – you decided to go and look for snacks. Maybe bring something for him as well. 

— I’ll find something to eat, alright? 

He didn’t respond at first, so you shook his shoulder. Your boyfriend took off his headphones with annoying look on his face, half-turning to look at you. You gulped, suddenly feeling like a child in front of the principal – not a feeling that you were supposed to feel around your partner, but with him, you somehow constantly felt like you were being judged. 

— Nah, stay here. I don’t want my father to see you. 

— Ah…your father is at home? 

You never heard anyone else being at the house – big house, you must admit, and it’s embarrassing almost how you never thought about his family. He lives with his dad, apparently, and the depth of your relationships can only be judged by the fact you literally didn’t know what his father’s name was. 

— Returned from his fucking deployment. He’d ask too many questions about you. 

— You didn’t tell him about me? 

Ah, now you’re hurt a little bit. You knew it wasn’t anything serious or too committed yet, but you intended to make this work. To try and fix all the problems you can without ending things abruptly. 

— He never asked. Not like he cares too much, but…

An apathetic dad, huh. 

You started to slowly piece together the puzzle that was your boyfriend’s horrible boyfriend skills. Now, you want to meet the man who conceived him and kick him in the nuts for creating such an unlovable human being who somehow captivated your chronically lonely heart. 

— If you don’t want me to come and meet him, I can go home. 

He doesn’t answer because his queue is finally coming to another match – you simply nod, knowing everything you need to. You can grab a little snack for yourself, fuck off to your dorm and rethink your life choices while your roommate is getting pounded by some gruss British bloke with an accent that makes your ears bleed. 

You have dignity, and right now, it has asked you to get some snacks from the kitchen. 

*** Now, the only thing König wanted after returning from deployment was to take as many hot showers as he could, shut his bastard of a son up, and get some delicious food waiting for him in the freezer. He was already home for a few days, but adjusting is always hard when you basically fucking hate living at your own house. Of-fucking-course, his son was watching the house while he was away – and now he can’t even think of a good excuse to set him off to his mother. Too old to do this, and split custody never really worked when not even one part of the relationship wanted to take care of the kid. 

König closes the door of the refrigerator – of course, his son took every good thing that he stashed for himself. With a groan, the colonel fights the urge to finally throw him out of the house – a thing he needed to do a few years ago, just when he celebrated his 18th, but some sentimental part of his heart instead promised to help with finding a place close to the college. No good deed goes unpunished. 

With a groan, he takes a few steps from the fridge – and then he almost stumbles across an angel. 

Scheisse

Now, König never thought of himself as a predator who prefers running after college girls who might as well be his daughters. He never thought of himself as a gut who liked them young – his wife, god forsake her name, was his age when they started dating, and he hardly had any sexual encounters with a person under 25 in the past few years. Well, not like he had any sexual encounters in the past years, but…

The thing is – he never thought he liked girls with wide eyes, pouty faces, and trembling hands who were holding a bag of his cookies that he carefully stashed away from his son. 

You are wearing something cute, a nice skirt and an adorable pink cardigan that looks so cozy and warm and soft, and he fights the urge to grab your skirt and simply lift it, You’re dressed up for a cute coffee date, and König has to double check if he isn’t dreaming and no one has decided to play a prank on him and send him a cute callgirl. 

— Oh! Sorry. It’s yours, isn’t it? 

You give him his cookies back – but not before your fingers fished another salty caramel goodness out of the bag, and you bit it. He looks at your teeth, at your lips, and glimpses of your tongue – god, he is an old, dirty bastard because even his baggy pants aren’t enough to hide his boner. You have no right to look this pretty for a man who hasn’t seen a woman in three months and hasn’t had sex in the past few years. 

You lick the crumbs from your fingers – it’s such a deliberate action that he can’t believe he actually sees it, and it’s not even something from porn he used to like. 

— Ja. You can have it. 

He would give you the code to his bank account if you asked for it. 

— Thank you, sir. I’m…well, I assume if Paul didn’t introduce me to you…I’m his girlfriend. Nice to meet you. 

You lick your lips and take a step back, pressed against the counter. He looks at the sway of your hips, a bit of crumbs on your shirt, and almost brushes it away with his hands. It would be a good excuse to touch your chest – but he can’t be like this, he has to keep his urges under control, or else his son will never forgive him. 

Yeah, like he needs a better reason to throw his useless son from his home. 

— Girlfriend? He never spoke about you. 

You look sad, and he immediately curses under his breath. For a moment, you look too fragile – too real. He can’t handle this look on a woman, especially as pretty and young as you are. You bat your eyelashes, even involuntarily, and he already prepares to give you the keys to his home just so you’d stop with such miserable expressions. He has a spare bedroom. 

He has his bedroom with a bed that would be enough for both of you. 

— Ah. Um. We’re…I guess we’re not at this stage yet. 

— Knowing him, you’ll never be, Schatz. 

You look at him immediately – you’re offended, angry, and sad at the same time. There is a certain stubbornness in your eyes that immediately makes him want to simply scoop you in his arms, lift you, and drag you straight to the altar – and here he thought that his impulses over getting married would be over after his first divorce. 

— What do you mean by this, sir? 

You look uncertain now, he can see this in your eyes – and really, knowing his asshole of a child, he is almost sure that Paul never once got you off, either physically or emotionally. 

Now, König never once considered himself to be a good man. He has killed countless people, overthrown many governments, and made shitty jobs for shitty people way more than saving hostages to help the good guys – and in the romantic field, it’s even worse. Wife, unsatisfied with his controlling tendencies and inability to feel normal love for a human being – and a son who hates him because, in fact, he never once wanted to have a kid. 

He looks at you and sees a pretty young thing, still in college or freshly out of, probably without a stable job and normal social standing – a good girl won’t be with his son if she isn’t stupid or extremely desperate for a relationship. 

The thing is, König is also extremely desperate for another warm body next to his, to feel a woman beside him, to love and obsess over someone – he looks at your pouty lips and shaky hands, at the way you bite the corner of your glossy mouth, and he almost wants to drop you on this very table and fuck you until you’re crying under him. He can’t do just that, of course. It would probably make you extremely uncomfortable and scared, but…well, quite frankly, his son doesn’t deserve you. 

König is. 

— I won’t sugarcoat it, Schatz. My son is a Scheiß Arschloch…fucking asshole, that is. I’m surprised he brought home someone as cute as you. 

You feel embarrassment collecting in your body. Paul’s dad is a…interesting man. 

Tall, broad, very muscular – even his baggy house clothes aren’t really concealing his extremely interesting physique from your eyes. He looks yummy and tasty, and you fight the urge to eye the bulge in his pants because you’re a good girl, you don’t look at your boyfriend’s dad like this. 

König has greying ginger hair, locks already curling slightly at the lack of cutting, and you fight the urge to sit on the counter and get your palm in his scalp, massage his head gently, and pull him closer for a kiss. You feel like a dirty, horrible woman – your boyfriend is in his room, probably enjoying his time on your “date” while you’re lusting over his father. 

Then again, this date already felt like a disaster. This relationship, too. 

— Paul isn’t all that bad, sir. 

“He at least has a nice dick,” you wanted to add but stopped yourself. Paul is tall and somewhat strong – if he weren’t sitting at his computer all day, you would call him even muscular. And he has a nice dick, yes, even though he had no idea how to use it. You liked the idea of laying with him, of spraying your jaw trying to fit all of this in your mouth, but his kinks and his sex skills being directly taken from porn…not really your thing. 

You look at König and wonder if they are similar in all of the places. He is his father, after all. 

König catches your gaze locked on his bulge and smirks. 

God, if he knew his son had such a cute girl, he would ask her to come earlier. He is two weeks off deployment and probably won’t take another long contract for a few months because they just upped his retirement payings, and he can afford to slack off a little bit, only visiting the home base for some training and instructions for rookies. 

He can afford to retire and never worry about money again – but he needs someone to make his days less boring, right? 

You look like a good candidate. 

— I’m sure my son was convincing, but I know him better than anyone. He doesn’t deserve you, Schatz. 

He is shitty at flirting, it’s not his forte – he can flaunt his money, maybe, show you in his wallet and bank account face first. He can just straight up ask you to be his sugar baby and suck his cock instead of doing your studies, but he can’t flirt and manipulate to save his life. Lying isn’t something he is good for, this is why his wife has left. 

— I…not sure we should be having this conversation here. 

You’re a good girl, and it’s infuriating. He knows that having someone in his bed shouldn’t be the end goal for his leave, but he wants you, and by the look on your face, you aren’t opposed to the idea. König doesn’t understand if he likes that you’re so reserved about it or if he wants you to be a bit more slutty – but he captures you in the space between the kitchen counter and presses you with his body. 

— You want to see the bedroom then?

Pushes you so close his knee gets between your legs – it might look involuntary like he didn’t exactly want for it to be placed here, but you aren’t dumb, you know what he wants from you. Like a good fucking girl, you’re too shy to give it to him right about now. God, sometimes he hates being so nice to people around him. 

— Sir, this is very…

He got you caged in his hands, body trapped in his embrace – you jerk your head upwards a little bit, staring at him like a small bird in the hands of a predator. He isn’t a strong man in regard of morals, he doesn’t see anything wrong with fucking his son’s girlfriend – if the girl is up to it. And if she isn’t…well, he better make sure she is. 

— What is it, Schatz? Paul won’t hear us in his headphones.

You know just how wrong it is, and you almost want to escape – his dick grinds on your pelvis through his pants, and you’re horrified to see how big it is. Excited too, of course, he is bigger than your boyfriend ever could be, and you don’t want to be a slut, but, oh well, not like you were in a committed and serious relationship anyway. 

Paul was seeing your friends more than you ever saw them – it’s probably a sign that you should settle for someone older. You did enjoy Lana Del Rey's songs, after all. 

— I don’t want to break his heart. 

— He doesn’t have one. 

You’re lost when he pushes his lips to kiss you over and over again – a surprisingly good kisser, and you give in because it was the first time in forever a kiss made you feel this good. His lips are sending electricity down your spine, you want to moan just from his knee, pushing on the softness of your cunt through that adorable skirt you liked so much – you feel so small like this, so tiny in his hands, you…

God, you feel like a slut, and you like it. 

Soon enough, you answered the kiss, your lips meeting his in a dance that made you feel hot, that made you feel like your boyfriend never could. Never thinking of yourself as someone who can fall so easily into the hands of an older man, now you know that he got you right where he wanted. 

You push your hand on his pants, trying to get the control back – but he stops you, a giant hand enveloping your wrist and pushing you back. With a surprise on your face, König just wants to kiss you all over. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that you deserve way more than being fucked on the rough kitchen counter while your so-called boyfriend is too busy dickriding his friends in some useless online game. 

— Not now, princess. You deserve better than being fucked on the kitchen counter, ja? It can come later. 

“Later” sounds like a promise, and you bite back your moan when he keeps pushing his knee against your cunt, making you throb and clench on nothing. He is such a gentleman, you can’t help but compare him to his son – and his fabulous ability to make you feel dirty after fucking you in the backseat of his car and tossing you to your dorm with your pussy still wet and messy after you didn’t cum. 

You sob, not from sadness, but from pleasure mixed with some weird, unnatural for you emotions – you feel weird, strained here like this, but you hug his neck and whisper something in his ear. Something, dangerously sounding just like “daddy, please” 

König is blushing, and he looks fucking adorable. 

— Daddy, ja? God, you’re dangerous, liebling. Going to get me in trouble with my son later. 

He laughs when he kisses you again, his hand slipping in your panties only to find them completely soaked – he knows you deserve a nice pillow and soft sheets under your body, and he pushes you up so you can hug his waist with your legs. You rely on him like a cute pet, and you’re so perfect in his hands he curses himself for not seeing you before. 

He is going to ruin you for anyone but him. Put so much cum in you, it will make your tummy bulge – make you his precious sugar baby, pay for your dumb college and make you move to his bedroom instead of some shitty dorm you probably share with four other people. 

He can be good for you – but he will ruin you for anyone else, anyone appropriate, every guy your age who clearly doesn’t know how to treat a lady right. 

— So wet for me…such a filthy thing, I didn’t know my son dated a whore. 

— N…not a whore, please…

He kisses you on your forehead, silently apologizing. You feel his crooked, scarred smile, and you push your face up to kiss him – you want to touch him so badly it makes you feel stupid. 

— Sorry, Schatzen. Not a whore, a good girl for her daddy, ja? So nice for me, too fucking young…

— W…we really shouldn’t… — Tshhh, don’t think about it. Thinking will only hurt your pretty dumb head. — I’m not…

— Quiet, little one. Let daddy handle everything.

He kisses you over and over, his fingers playing with your pussy – meaty digits digging in your hole, making you whimper from sudden intrusion. He is big, bigger than anyone else, just two of his fingers are enough to spread you as much as normal cock would, and even though you’re used to taking Paul’s size, you just know that his dad would be much, much bigger. He is going to split you open, and you will love every fucking second. 

It feels so wrong, you still aren’t sure if you want him to touch you like this. 

It feels so right, he is experienced and eager, pushing every button to make you squirm in his grasp. Your orgasm comes embarrassingly quick – maybe because you haven’t gotten off in ages, only miserable masturbation sessions and poor attempts at faking your orgasm made it feel real. Paul never cared enough to actually get you off – but now…

You aren’t ready for him. You squirm in his grasp when the pressure becomes too much, and he soothes you, two fingers still buried in your soaked cunt. You feel so dirty, so wrong right now – you are cumming on the fingers of your boyfriend’s absent father, and you love every second of it. 

Post-orgasm clarity makes you whiny and sobby, and you whimper in his shoulder when he gently lifts you in his hands. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that he just scrambled your brain with that orgasm – it’s good, really, he might just want to keep your pretty head nice and empty for him. Not like you would ever need to think in his presence, the colonel can handle everything in- and out- of bed. 

König holds you close, not allowing you to scramble away no matter how embarrassed you are. You are his precious thing, with a pouty face, and he will do everything in his power to make you squirm on his fingers again and again before he makes you his wife for good. 

So impulsive, maybe this is why his son is such an asshole – taking the worst traits of his father. 

— Don’t cry, Schatzen. You’re okay, it felt good, didn’t it? 

— W…we shouldn’t have. Shit. I’m sorry, it was a m…god, I need to tell Paul. 

— I’ll tell him. 

— No! — I will tell my asshole of a son that you’re my girl now, ja? And then I will take you to the bedroom, so we can fuck. 

— I need to return to my dorm. 

— And then I will dine you properly, okay? Sorry, Liebling, I know I should court you before all of this…but we can afford to go a bit off board, ja? 

He is smiling, so smitten and obsessed over just having you cum on his fingers once – you don’t have the heart to say no. Never did. You’re a good, proper girl, and Paul was never treating you right anyway. You feel dirty, yes, but somehow, it is almost right. 

He peppers your face with kisses, like a dog lapping its tongue all over your skin – you’re so concentrated on the warmth of his strong, seasoned body that you don’t even look in the direction of the doorway to the kitchen. 

Paul, however, looks straight at you, disheartened and shocked. 

— W…what the fuck, dad?! König laughs, kissing you once again – deep, hot, with tongue and loud, sloppy sounds of your mouth pressing into one another. You’re stuck in place, still caged in his arms like a precious little pet you are. 

— She’ll make a good step mom, ja? 

You don’t even register his hands slowly caressing your fingers as if he already tries to check the ring sizes. 

[demonicbaby666]

Dom Emily prentiss x intern fem reader is all i ask!! Smutty ofc, a lil bit of a humiliation kink if you’re comfortable!!! Thank yewww

Packing Heat

One shot | Criminal Minds Masterlist | Masterlists

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x fem!Reader

Genre: Smut

Words: 4.8k+

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, strap-ons (r!receiving), semi-public sex (office sex, again…), praise, degradation, mommy kink, kind of dub-con at one point, top!Emily, bottom!reader

Summary: Interning at the BAU means you don’t interact with the person in charge a lot. Of course, this doesn’t mean you haven’t seen the section chief in passing or exchanged pleasantries; it's that they’re simple, short-lived and often anti-climatic. However one evening, you find yourself in the desolate office with no chance of going home, work to be done, but no one to sit with you through the process. With only one other soul residing on the sixth floor, it seems Emily may be your best bet for company.

A/n: Listen, could she be more dom? Yes. Is there any humiliation? Not really... But I got lost while writing, so please don't be mad at me... Hope you still enjoy!

When you'd first started at the BAU, it was safe to say you hadn't seen much of the woman calling the shots. There were always updates about when the team were taken out of state, what their cases would entail, the steady progress being made, and the brief comical encounters Garcia spewed around the office. When they were back, everyone made an effort to small talk. They welcomed you well and continued to appreciate the little things you did for them daily. Emily, however, was constantly on the go, meaning every encounter you'd had with her consisted of one-way glances and hopeful smiles in the event she decided to notice her surroundings and the human lifeform less than two metres away. 

She never did, though, until one uneventful evening. 

Almost everyone had vacated the building. The only remaining souls left on the sixth floor were you, Emily, and a one-person cleaning crew—whom you watched exit through glass doors before approaching the brunette's office with shaky knees. Peeking through the window, you saw her attention dart to and from the bright computer screen to the mountains of bureaucratic paperwork lying atop her desk. It was easy to get lost in the little creases between her eyebrows, brought out by the deep scowl she wore, the delicate way her fingers were woven together, and the pads of her thumbs skirting against one another as she pondered in deep thought. 

It was nearing eight, and you were struggling to understand how someone could appear so put together at this late hour, given that their day was most certainly jam-packed with non-stop slog. 

Emily's eyes suddenly flashed up. She squinted toward her door, trying to figure out who'd be here this late other than herself. When she appeared to have worked it out, she leaned back victoriously in her chair, a smug smile on her face, when she called out, "Are you going to stand out there all night?" 

You could have done two things: scurried off like a teenager caught peeping or held your chin up high and walked into the older woman's office with little to no shame. Somehow, you managed to do a mix of both, scurrying in with sagging shoulders, a guilty smile plastered on your face and trembling hands clasping your laptop over your chest.

"Well, it's eerily quiet out there, and I would go home to write this paper. It's just that my roommate and her boyfriend have an awful tendency to forget about volume control when they're—" You cut yourself off, realising it probably wasn't appropriate to talk to your boss about your roommate's over-the-top borderline pornographic soundscape. "I was wondering if I could, you know."

Emily, satirising as ever, waited with a raised eyebrow and a relaxed smile for you to continue your purposefully unfinished question. 

"Sorry, I should let you work." You surrendered to your weak resolve with flushed cheeks and began to turn around.

"Sit," she ordered before you had fully turned back around to the door, nodding to the available chair on the other side of her desk. Her eyes followed your journey to the seat, watching as you placed your laptop down and opened it with shaky fingers. Satisfied, she turned her attention back to her work. "I could do with some company." 

The following silence, starting as unsettling and stagnant, blossomed into something warm and comfortable. There were occasional glances thrown your way and vice versa. Their acknowledgement and appreciation were shown in the form of timid smiles on your end and double takes followed by teasing smirks on Emily's. 

When half an hour had passed, your shoulders had finally relaxed, your fingers had stopped their infernal twitching, and your paper neared its completion. There was a proud smile cresting, and you were trying to prevent it from forming, knowing how dorkish it made you look. But you knew there was no hope when your cheeks ached and your jaw locked. You granted yourself the freedom to display your gloating smile. 

Just as expected, Emily had a questioning look on her face when you dared to look up from the document. There was a playfulness to the upward quirk of her lips - the superiority of a predator knowing the power they have over their prey, ready to prove it at any given moment. 

"I've almost finished," you timidly admitted, feeling obligated to explain as heat infiltrated your jutted-out cheeks. 

Without a second thought, the ravenette stood up and made her way around the desk. She could have easily chosen to turn the laptop around. Instead, she took the far more intimate route. 

Soft curves grazed your shoulder blades, causing you to shiver. The weight finally settled, soft padding pressed flat against your back as Emily read your paper, and suddenly, your stomach had worked itself into looping knots, and your heart was racing. 

The struggle continued as you fought not to fidget, if only to alleviate the growing tension mounting between your thighs. This was only made worse when Emily's right hand left the back of your chair to drop down over your shoulder and land comfortably on your thigh. 

"Such a smart girl," she whispered sultrily into the shell of your ear, squeezing generous flesh between her fingers. 

With a scrambled brain, there was little fight to be put up against the meek whimper that crackled against the constricted lining of your throat. Subconsciously, your thighs tensed, and your pussy fluttered as you were reminded how close Emily's hand was to where you could only dream she'd touch. 

You'd thought you imagined it—the subtle shift in the room from breezy and light to torrid and all-consuming, but with Emily's fingers veering off course, inching higher and higher, reality came crashing down. 

"Thank you," you struggled to get the words out, and when they did come out, they were tremulous and feeble. 

Turning to look at her may have, in hindsight, been a mistake because where her gaze should have been fixed on the laptop screen, it was glued to your lips. Unexpectedly, your stomach flipped, and you felt dizzy. She was still superbly perfect up close, skin smooth like silk, cheekbones sharp as a razor, and lips cut from velvet. It was too close, dangerously so, you had to look away. Outside the window, you spotted a swarm of birds barely visible against the night sky. You ignored the clanking of your heart as you focussed on their synchronicity, watching them circle each other until they became one big blur of messy movements. 

The hand resting on the leather backing of your chair rose, skirting up and over your neck, until a firm grip was established around your dangling ponytail. She was gentle when she tugged, aware that though she wanted to educate you in the art of being owned, you were delicate.

"I think a pretty thing like you deserves a reward," she baited. "Don't you?" 

Her grip on you may have been physical. However, a stronger pull was coming from deep within you, an unimportant piece of scrap metal drawn in by a powerful magnet. It was useless to deny her. The mesmerising glow of her chocolate eyes and the promise of being made to feel special was too powerful. So, you nodded slowly but eagerly, desire painting your eyes dark shades of lust. 

"That's a good girl." 

Emily didn't miss how you preened at the praise and safely stored that information away for further use. She shifted to your side, hands migrating to the small of your waist, guiding you to your feet. The act of it was far gentler than you'd expected, like a gentleman asking a maiden to dance, sweeping her off her feet to whisk her away into a fairytale land filled with magic and romance. 

Certain the benign treatment would be short-lived, you granted yourself the leniency to enjoy it whilst it lasted, refusing to get too caught up in the dull ache between your legs that craved the form of savagery Emily displayed in the field. 

There was nothing short of passion in how she worked. It drove you crazy. As wrong as it felt, you couldn't help but envy the dirtbag the team was working to catch because you saw how badly the brunette wanted them. The look in her eyes, gratification and disgust all at once, when she'd achieved what she set out to do and was staring the devil right in the face - it made your heart race, your palms sweat and your cunt throb. 

The memory kickstarted what could only be described as a brutal attack upon the older woman's lips. To her credit, Emily indulged the outburst for a lot longer than you'd have thought. As if she'd expected it, she quickly responded, pulling you into her body and tilting her head to the side to deepen the kiss. The lead was stolen promptly from your grasp when Emily wedged a leg between your thighs, backed you up against her desk and tactically slid her tongue into your gaped mouth. You would have gasped if not for the fact you were immediately indulged in the minty taste of your boss's tongue skirting over the roof of your mouth. So much so that you scarcely noticed the pressure coming from your core was no longer just a phantom need manifested but taut clothed muscle pressing you further and further into the sharp wooden edge of the desk. 

"Emily," you breathily moaned, pulling back and separating your kiss-swollen lips from the brunette's. Ordinarily, you wouldn't have allowed what happened next to occur, but this was Emily, after all, the BAU section chief, and if you were to let anyone order you about, it would be her. 

She backed away from you with a final nip to your bottom lip, letting it go with a pop, and you fought the urge to reach out and pull her back to you. You knew you'd already tried to take things into your own hands once, and doing so again may undermine any chances you had of keeping the ball rolling on tonight's affairs. 

You could feel the tight pull of your ponytail and all the places where hair had been lead array from the confines of your hairband, and it truly dawned on you how out of sorts you must have appeared. Tracing your fingers over your lips, you could make out how swollen they were - puffy and hot, yet desperate and pouted, begging for more. Your breathing was laboured, filling the room's silence, and your shirt suddenly felt too tight as your chest expanded with each intake of oxygen. It almost came as a relief when Emily opened her mouth to finally speak until you heard what she'd said.

"Take your clothes off," she mindlessly ordered, walking around to her chair and sitting back in it. Her eager eyes trained over your body with the faintest shimmer of mirth. 

Initially, it was a shock. Of course, it was. You were in an official government building, personnel still sparsely spread throughout, and a goddess of a woman was asking you to bare yourself to her. 

For the longest time, revealing your body to someone always felt like giving up something. Perhaps some kind of purity. The moment you gave it up, it bred only guilt and shame that twisted and pulled at the pit of your stomach until you felt sick. You stood there, waiting for that feeling to come. It never did. 

Remaining still, your body pulsed not with nerves but with exhilaration and anticipation. It took a few seconds to realise this was precisely what you wanted. You wanted to give this false sense of purity away. There was not a sudden influx of courage soaring through every living cell of your body. However, there was enough for you to put on a front and do as you were told. 

"Slowly." Emily sat further back and placed her elbows neatly over the arms of her chair. She laced her fingers together, offered you an encouraging nod, and then was back to watching you raptly.

Feeling like a glutton, you followed a path of desire and heeded Emily's request, fingers increasingly fumbling over each button of your shirt. 

"So obedient." And in no way was it said negatively; the adulatory smile she gave you only sought to prove that further. 

The way she looked at you made you feel as though you were already naked. Maybe that was why it was so easy to get lost in the subtlety of undressing. It was art, and you were a performer. That's what you told yourself. And for the most part, it worked. 

With closed eyes, you trailed your fingers over your shoulders, letting your shirt drop to the floor. The AC raised goosebumps over your chest, pebbled your nipples under your plain bra, and you smiled. You smiled because this was the most alive you had felt in months. The thrill of moving on to your slacks and deftly unclasping your belt felt like being on a rollercoaster, like missing a step and laughing fear in the face afterwards. You felt utterly fearless. 

In the back of your mind, you could sense Emily's eyes still on you. You could hear her moving around but didn't think to check her reaction. You were in your element, and far be it for a look of appraisal, or lack of, to stop you. That was until your trousers hit the carpet with a soft thud, and a sharp breath was heard from across you. 

Your eyes snapped open, and you found Emily's smile was absent. The brunette now had her bottom lip trapped between her teeth as she looked you up and down, knuckles white from her deadly grip over the armrests. 

She lifted a hand, palm facing the ceiling as her index and middle finger crooked. "Come here so I can get a proper look at you," she said, slightly breathless. 

The desk had conveniently covered the lower half of Emily's body, which meant that when you circled around and came to stand next to her, you could see exactly what the earlier ruffling had been about. 

"Is that?" You froze, both shocked and utterly intrigued by the thick black dildo jutting out from the older woman's opened slacks. 

She didn't need you to finish the question, already nodding as she followed your line of sight. Leaning forward with an outstretched arm, Emily coiled her fingers around your wrist and pulled you forward, causing you to almost stumble over your own feet. At this closer distance, you could tell the faux cock would give you a run for your money. It was thicker than anything you had taken before, though that was not a hard trophy to earn, given that the most you had let anyone put inside you was three fingers. 

"Do you want to come sit on mommy's lap?" Emily asked with a tilt of her head. 

She didn't miss how your breath caught in your throat, how you seemed to stop blinking, stop moving, stop existing.

"Are you scared?" the lioness asked, sights set on her prized fawn. 

You shook your head and placed one foot in front of the other, eyes downcast as you took in the size of Emily's additional appendage. The shake of your jaw gave you away. 

"I don't like being lied to," she snapped, eyes dimming to an even darker shade of brown. 

She pulled you in by your waist and sat you on her lap, cock brushing over the thin material of your underwear. Instinctively, you wedged your bottom lip between your teeth to quiet yourself. But Emily wasn't having any of it. Her thumb came to your captive lip, where she helped release it with a soft flick. 

The smooth texture of Emily's cock through your sodden panties was a needed relief. Its head purposefully pressing against your sensitive bundle of nerves evoked a flurry of shivers to run down your spine. And with nothing holding you back, you moaned in gratitude. 

"Feels good, doesn't it?" Emily smirked, watching you rut against her. 

"Yes," you uttered, breath caught in your throat. 

Happy to watch, Emily relaxed her shoulders and leaned back, enjoying the show you were putting on for her. Only when she recognised the tell-tell signs of frustration wash over your features, from your creased brow to the bite of your lip between your teeth, did a sick smirk lick the edges of her lips. With a mischievous glint shining in her eyes, the older woman shifted her position, pointedly ignoring the sound it pulled from you. 

"Something wrong?" she asked with a hitch of one eyebrow, adamant to appear oblivious. 

You gave no reply, only held tight to her shoulders in defiance and continually ground down on her, trying so hard to pleasure yourself to no avail that your eyes began to sting with the emergence of tears. 

With sweat threatening to spill down the side of your face, the tension between your legs starting to ache, and your release nowhere near in sight, you threw your head back with a sigh and whispered a quiet 'please' to the ceiling.

"Please what?" Came the dull reply, tone bored, unamused, unimpressed.  

You tried to impale yourself, failing as strong hands held you down. It was driving you crazy—pleasure being so close yet so far. 

With one hand removed from your hip, Emily gripped your jaw and turned your attention solely to her stern gaze, "Are you going to stop being a brat and tell me what you want?" 

When no answer came, she let go, jerking your head back as if disgusted with the lack of compliance. 

"Get up." 

Ice, you were made of ice. Sat still, shocked, speechless and slightly mortified. 

"Do I need to repeat myself?" Emily's voice was no longer flat; it was not roaring either. Instead, it was layered, resembling the same barbed tone a teacher might use with a disobedient student. It was enough of a motivator to get you to rise to your feet. 

Following you closely, the older woman, too, rose to her full height, hands meticulously reaching behind your back to expertly relieve you of your bra. Never once did she look you in the eye. 

With the same callous approach, you were turned and pressed against the desk, papers sticking to your heated chest. Emily was quick to loop her fingers through the hem of your underwear and slip them down your thighs, allowing gravity to do the rest. 

The full-bodied presence behind you lessened, and you took it as the opportune moment to glance back. 

The brunette had let her trousers drop to the floor, allowing you to see how her porcelain skin was directly contrasted by the black leather of her strap-on. Unlike yourself, she did not appear nervous or afraid. As she kicked the tailored pants aside and met your gaze, you realised how in control she was. 

Her gaze moved down your body, hands running down your back, until finally, she pressed herself against you and lowered her body atop yours. 

"I can feel how wet you are," she teased, running two fingers through the mess between your legs. "Are you always this wet?" 

"Emily, please," you begged. 

"I asked before, please what?" She raked five fingers down your side, moving them back up till they wound tightly in your hair and gripped your neck to an uncomfortable arch. Two fingers pushed inside you but did no more than that, remaining still as stone. "If you're going to be a baby and refuse to tell me what you want, you'll get nothing." 

"Fuck me!" You no longer had the sound of mind to acknowledge shouting something vulgar could attract attention. Logic had evaded you, allowing you to play right into your boss's hands. "Please just fuck me."

Sliding her slick fingers out of you, she proudly stated, "That wasn't hard, was it?"

If the older woman wanted an answer, she did not allow for one. In one fluid motion, she rose from over you and snapped her hips forward, sheathing the entire length of her cock into your cunt. Your breath caught in your throat, resulting in a strained groan tumbling out of your open mouth. The pit of your stomach dropped, and try as you might have not to clench around the toy inside you, you did precisely that. 

It was new, the foreign feeling of being filled so fully that one slight move would summon pleasure that sent shivers through your whole body. It wasn't unwelcome, especially when Emily started to move, and heat engulfed your entire body. Her pace was languid, allowing you to feel each slide of her cock along your slick walls, how each push of her hips ended in the tip hitting the spot within you to cause the furling in your stomach to expand tenfold. It was all you could do not to scream when the push and pull and Emily's hips moved with more purpose, jerking your body into the edge of her desk. 

"I've barely started, and you're already dripping down your thighs." Her voice was laced with mirth, finger smearing your mess as if to prove an unnecessary point that had your cheeks burning up. "How long have you been thinking about this?" Emily finished her question with an arduous thrust. "How many times have you sunk your fingers into your pussy and thought of me?" 

The questions continued, each hitting the nail right on the head. Your cheeks were scorched with the embarrassment that comes with having your desires known and exposed, but it did not take hold of your conscience as the event of falling in front of a large crowd might have. It was comparable to how a blushing maiden may feel when caught by a suitor in only their undergarments. It excited that small part of you that gave in to demoralisation and encouraged you enough to meet Emily halfway as she thrust into you. 

As your pleasure mounted, the need for more grew. Your clit, swollen and needy, begged for relief, and you beckoned to its call, sliding one hand from above your head to the juncture between your legs. It was when the tips of your fingers brushed against your sensitive pearl and you gained the briefest taste of the euphoria that Emily removed her hand from your thigh and snatched your hand away, halting all movement. 

You could have cried, having everything, then nothing, so quickly. 

"Did I say you could do that?" 

Abruptly pulling out, Emily stood tall and proud, staring down at you with curiosity and disappointment lining the brown of her eyes. She heard you whimper and acknowledged your sniffle. 

"There's no need to cry," she tutted, flipping you onto your back and lifting you by your shoulders. "You're going to listen to me from now on." 

You nodded, and she once again lined her cock to your opening, only now she waited, taunting you with possibilities. 

"Beg," she instructed. 

And you heeded. 

"Please. I need you." 

"You can do better." She sounded bored, and this struck a nerve within you, one that begged you to impress her, show her you could be a good little girl, and beg as though your life depended on it. 

You took a heaving breath and looked into Emily's eyes, sporting your best puppy eyes. "I need you. I want you inside me. I want you to fuck me with your big cock, mommy. Make me scream out your name. I need it." 

"There's a good pet," she cooed, mesmerising you with the bating of her lashes as she looked down to where your bodies were so close to touching. 

It all happened in a blur. The next thing you knew, your nails were digging into muscled shoulders, legs wrapping around a slim waist as the brunette filled you, wasting no time in picking up a brutal tempo. You barely recognised the sound of your voice as high-pitched obscenities spilt past your lips. You felt your whole body light up, heard blood pulse in your ears, and saw in real-time just how easy it was to aid Emily in calling upon your impending orgasm. 

Your vulgar mouth, luckily, seemed to amuse Emily enough for her to let you continue rutting your hips against her. The corners of her lips curled, and her smirk lasted only so long for you to see before she inched forward and kissed you with passion and hunger. It was easy, so easy, to melt into the brief moment of intimacy. The butterflies felt tangible, and the sparks crackled in your ears; it felt so fucking good you'd almost forgotten just where you were. Of course, bubbles eventually popped, and this one was demolished by rustling outside Emily's office. 

What little movement Emily allowed, her hands holding you firmly against the desk by your waist, was not enough to wriggle free and glance behind to see what was happening. Instead, the possibility of being caught weighed heavier with each drawled-out second. 

"Emily," You tried but were cut off by a tongue sliding into your mouth. "Emily, stop."

With a bite to your lip, the older woman backed off, confusion marking her features, "What is it?" she punctuated her question with a hard thrust. 

"Someone's o-" another hard thrust. "Someone's outside."

Emily smiled, picking up her pace, forcing you to breathe so deep you felt your lungs expand. 

"You'd better be quiet then." 

Whatever protest you were about to give died in your throat when nails skirted up to your chest and dug painfully into your breast, and Emily pushed herself so deep within you that you felt her hitting your cervix. A strangled cry was briefly heard before you managed to clasp your hand over your lips and silence your own mewls. She was fucking you as if her life depended on getting a reaction out of you that would draw attention. Nevertheless, you held firm and stayed as quiet as your muffled sobs would allow you to be. 

"Emily, please," you were pleading for release and for the brutal fucking stop because you knew there would be no chance you could keep a lid on your volume; there would also be no chance you would survive not cumming. 

Taking note of this, the older woman took the route of giving you your release, dragging a thumb down over your clit and applying the right amount of pressure to have your tense legs turn into a shaky mess of tremors. She didn't stop there; with a brief slide, she ran your slick over your bundle of nerves and started to circle steadily. 

"Fuck!" You screamed out, missing the way the ruffling outside suddenly stopped. "I'm cumming. I'm cumming." 

"That's it," the brunette encouraged, her fingers coming up to crook and tangle through the mussed mess of your hair, nails slowly working against your scalp. "Let everyone hear what a slut you are, letting me fuck you over my desk." 

She didn't stop, though, not when your clit felt raw and your pussy tender, not when you begged and not even when you reached out and tried to grab her wrist. Emily only yanked you down by your hair, relishing the thud the brutal move made. She fucked you harder till stationary fell to the floor from your thrashing arms, and by then, her lips were already wrapped around a nipple, sucking firm whilst you cried through a second orgasm. 

When you finally felt empty, you didn't even try to open your eyes. You knew your vision would be blurred if not blacked out. Instead, you focussed on coming back down to earth, steading your breath and not thinking about how you strangely missed being filled by Emily despite being so fucking sore. 

"Are you still alive?" a smug voice asked from above, and you pried your bleary eyes open to weakly smile. 

"I think so," you whispered, peeling your sweat-slick back from the desk. That was when you remembered the unknown personnel outside and shot a look at the door. 

"They're gone," Emily said, cupping your chin and turning you back to her. Again, you were greeted by that conniving smirk. "After your commentary, I think they understood we didn't want to be disturbed." 

"But-" 

"Uh-uh." she silenced you with a finger to your lips, the smell of yourself still narrowly fragrant. You took the digit into your mouth, patting yourself on the back as you watched Emily's eyes turn dark. "You want to make Mommy feel good now, don't you?" She knew the answer, but oh, how she loved to watch you sink to your knees and eagerly nod anyway. You helped unclasp the straps of her harness, then set to pealing the last barrier keeping you from her heat down her legs. 

"My good little pet," she said, smiling down at you and happily watching you beam. Her hand cupped your jaw before moving to the back of your neck, where she pulled you to her core and began singing a melody of moans. 

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[azsazz]

Over Ice

Hockey!Rhysand x Reader

Summary: Anon Req: I think we could really have fun with the different courts and Illyrian values on a thematic basis but ALSO if the reader is in something very artsy and hasn’t really been into sports and then she’s walking around Campus and BOOM right smack dab into Broody McBrooder!! She THEN finds out he’s the tutor for one of her hardest courses (personally Psych would be a good one) and they become super duper close with him and the team!!! She decides to wear Cass’ jersey to make him mad and when he finally gets a hold of her after the game: *cue innocent shrug* he asked me to!

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 3032

Notes: While I work on a plot for an azzy hockey x figure skater au, please enjoy a rhys hockey au 🤪

This was originally an Az idea but I thought it fit better for Rhys bby so here we are. I feel like I've forgotten how to write and this is shit (dont judge me im going thru smthin rn)

_________________________________________

A giant FU stares up at you.

Well, actually, it’s only an F, but it may as well be the former with the way it’s circled in thick, red ink.

Three. Fucking. Times.

Tears sting the back of your eyes but you refuse to let them fall. It never feels good, failing, and even if you’d gotten a C+ like you hoped, you would’ve still beaten yourself up over the grade because plain and simple: that’s who you are.

Two months ago, at the beginning of the semester, psychology had seemed like a breeze. The lectures were easy to listen to and intriguing, and you had no trouble following along with the professors’ slideshows as you took detailed notes of everything on the screen. Your assigned readings were completed in a similar state, though they weren’t graded but included important information you’d find on the tests.

Somewhere along the line, your grade slipped, and you don’t remember if it had been between studying for Biology or reveling in your newfound freedom away from your parents, partying and enjoying a true college experience with your roommates.

Whatever happened, the repercussions are hitting you right in the face, the taunting letter you have never seen before on any of your assignments throughout all your years of learning.

If your parents saw this, they would bring the entire house down with their scolding.

It’s not like you didn’t try. You studied, even if the word is a loose term for what material you used. Things started piling up this month, with it being a new semester and all. You didn’t schedule out the time to focus on psychology when the classes you were really interested in—Introduction to Nutrition and Kinesiology—took first and second place for your attention. Plus, with the number of social events your best friends—who are also conveniently your roommates—invited you too, it was almost impossible to say no. Friends are a vital part of the college experience and you were in desperate need of some fun after having spent the summer lounging at home with your parents.

You found a psych support group that met at the library once a week to study together. It wasn’t anything like you thought it would be, a bunch of clueless students with grades similar to yours. All they seemed to want to do with your precious time was bitch and moan about the professor instead of actually trying to conquer the areas of study for the upcoming test.

And now the consequences of your actions have made themselves known.

Grumbling, you shove the test into your binder before shutting it with a snap that does nothing to ease your frustration. A few students still trail from the room, though most bolted right after being released. Some linger at the bottom of the lecture hall where the professor sits, answering their questions.

You have about a million-and-one of your own but you’re too worked up about your grade to go down there and hash it out with Mr. Hybern. His peppery colored hair is perfectly coiffed on this terrible day, his beard trimmed close to his jowls. His gleaming, golden skin makes you think that maybe he’d spent his weekend grading tests out in the sun, and you have half a mind to stomp your way down the stairs and demand a second review of your test.

It wouldn’t solve your irritation, and it would certainly be embarrassing if in fact your F is correct.

Placing your binder, notebook, and pens back into your bag, you zip it, sling it over your shoulder, and make your way to the exit, holding your chin high because if there’s one thing you’re not going to do, is cry over your terrible, awful grade in public.

The waterworks will just have to wait until you’re locked in your private bedroom in your shared dorm.

There is good news. It’s Friday, which means you can snag the pint of your favorite ice cream that your roommates won’t dare touch because ‘no ice cream that’s worth it should have fruit in it, that’s like asking for a steak on your spaghetti.’ You have no idea what Mor—one of your roommates—was on about when she brought up the awful comparison, and in reply all you’d done is scooped out a chunk of cherries embedded into the creamy, pink goodness and stuffed it into your mouth.

With it being the weekend, you can also wallow well into the night without having to worry about hiding your puffy eyes in the morning. You’ll have all day tomorrow to figure out a plan of action, once you allow yourself the time to properly grieve and process…and maybe have a drink or two.

You shoulder through the heavy lecture hall door with your head down, hiding the red stain to your cheeks. So, maybe you’re not going to hold you head high as you trail back to your dorm, but you will not cry.

The door swings open and you barely catch the noise of surprise before you’re barreling into something that’s akin to a brick wall. Your breath leaves your body in a whoosh and your balance slips out from under you, arms flailing as you fall.

You squeeze your eyes shut, bracing for impact, but it never comes.

Slowly, mortified because you know exactly what’s cushioned your fall, you peek your eyes open, carefully meeting a sapphire gaze that surely would take your breath away should you have any left.

This close, you can see the perfection of his angular features: a long, straight nose, high cheekbones under the dusting of pink that caresses his own face. His lashes are dark as charcoal, the same color of his hair that looks as soft as silk.

Whatever it is that has you entranced by his beauty, the sentiment seems to be mutual. Those bright eyes trace across your features, carefully drinking you in. You don’t know if you’re thankful that your face is already as red as the marker on your test or if you want him to see the way your cheeks go molten.

There’s a warmth against your hips that you don’t notice until he speaks, his hands that have a solid grip around you, keeping you steady to his chest. His whispered breath brushes across your lips. “By all means,” he teases softly, “Take your time.”

“Oh, my Gods, I am so sorry,” you squeak, rolling off his chest. You can hear his chuckling as you scramble to climb to your feet, but your knees are so weak at the sight—and touch—of the most handsome man you’ve ever seen lifting gracefully to his feet, holding a hand down to help you up.

You try not to notice just how big his hand is in yours, and for the second time today, you fail.

“Don’t worry about it, darling,” he says, displaying an easy grin that makes your heart stutter in your chest. The door opens with a loud click and the both of you startle. His hand comes down warmly on your spine, ushering you out of the way of the student that’s beaming grin falters into apology at the idea of almost running you down, already on the phone with someone and gushing over their test result.

It’s hard to reign in your glare.

The student’s conversation seems to jolt the man out of his stupor. He blinks, shaking his head as if to rid him of a spell you might have cast on him, or maybe he’s testing to see if he has a concussion from the fall.

When he returns his attention to you, it takes everything in your power not to melt into a puddle beneath that gaze.

“Is Mr. H still passing out tests?” he asks, and you swallow the sourness that accompanies the name of your professor. You and he are not on good terms right now, not that this boy knows that.

“Yeah,” you answer, remembering you saw him sitting on his throne (desk chair) with his loyal citizens (students) kissing his feet (talking through their tests). “I think so.” Then, because you’re pretty sure you would remember a face like his if he were in your lecture, you ask, “Are you in this class?”

“No,” he answers with a scoff that tells you he breezed by this class. “I took Psych 101 freshman year, but I have Professor Hybern again for Cognitive Psychology and I need to turn in my paper early.”

Turning in a paper early? What is he, some kind of genius?

“Oh,” you answer lamely, “Cool.”

His answering grin cracks open the casing of the butterflies you didn’t know were living in your stomach, taking off in a flurry of emotion.

He shrugs like he couldn’t really care less about any of it, but to you, the fact that he’s managed to pass Psych 101 at all is an impressive feat, though you don’t know why he’d sign up for even more torture. “Sure. Look, I’ve got to run, but are you sure you’re okay?”

It’s nice of him to ask if you’re okay when he’s the one who had his back painted to the floor only moments ago. “Yeah, I’m fine, but I should be the one asking you that. Are you okay?”

His laughter is rich and warm, and you want to melt into it. Before you have the chance to make even more a fool of yourself in front of this handsome stranger, he answers. “I’ve been checked harder, darling. You have a nice day now.”

“Thanks, you too,” your words trail off as he catches the door on its next outswing, ducking inside without waiting for your response.

Jeeze, he must really be in a rush, then.

It’s when you exit the doors to the psychology building that you curse yourself. You should’ve gotten his number, his name at least. You could’ve invited him over for something more distracting and yummier than the ice cream you’d planned on demolishing.

At least you have something better to think about tonight than your test.

With a heavy sigh, you allow your backpack to fall off your shoulder. Now that you’ve arrived back to your dorm, you’re suddenly feeling more exhausted than ever.

The walk home from class had been nice, your time spent thinking about the boy you’d run into. The broadness of his shoulders you didn’t seem to notice until he turned away, stretching wide beneath his tight t-shirt. The bulge of his biceps beneath said t-shirt, flexing as he pulled the door open for himself. The shape of his ass in those snug jeans.

The sight of that is what had your eyes nearly popping from your head. What’s he doing that gives him such a bubblicious ass? Squats? Lunges? You can do those. You choose not to, but if there’s a guarantee that you’d have an ass like that, you’d start right this second.

Tucking your lip into your mouth in concentration, you plant your hands on your hips, making your way to the refrigerator that your ice cream is housed in, lunging your way there.

It’s not that far, the communal space in your shared dorm is small, but your heartrate is elevated by the time you’re two lunges away from your prize: your ice cream.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Mother!” You shout as the voice of your roommate breaks your concentration. Your knees wobble and your thighs shake, unable to hold you up from the burst of exertion you used. You clearly need to get into the gym more, another thing to add to your already busy schedule. “You scared me!”

Mor rolls her chocolate-brown eyes, sliding into one of the stools at your counter. It’s not built for it, the laminate countertop doesn’t hang over the island far enough for your legs to fit, but you and your roommates thought they were cute, nonetheless. You can suffer having to hunch over your knees to reach your cereal bowls in the mornings in favor of having more space for company to sit.

When you haul yourself off the ground, you take in your roommate. She’s wearing some kind of jersey, one you’ve never even seen in her wardrobe before, and you probably spend more time in there than her because she has every item of clothing you could ever imagine. The top she’s wearing now totally clashes with everything that screams Mor: silk scarves, tight bodice tops, leather pants, and what she has on now isn’t even red, a color that’s a staple in her closet.

“Well, if you were paying attention,” she scolds playfully, flipping open the compact in her hand, checking her makeup in the tiny mirror. She makes a few faces that would make you chuckle if you didn’t notice how she looks like she’s ready to go out, and that means she’s going to try to drag you with. “You would’ve heard me walk into the room. I am wearing heels, you know.”

Of course you know. Mor doesn’t do sneakers, only when it’s five in the morning and the sun is still sleeping, the perfect time for working out where nobody will catch her. Maybe I should join her, you think, mind wandering back to that boy’s butt.

“Why are your cheeks all red?” She asks, planting her palms on the counter and leaning towards you, eyes narrowed in inquisition.

“Nothing,” you wave her off, reaching for the door to the freezer. It’s the last thing between you and the cherry chunk ice cream calling your name.

Before you can open it more than an inch, it slams closed, Mor’s sharp, bright red fingernails splayed out to stop you.

Damnit, how does she move so silently?

“What do you think you’re doing?” You question each other at the same time, biting back your smiles at the mistake.

She answers first. “Why do you look like you’re about to get the ice cream, put your pajamas on, and wallow in bed all night?”

“Because that’s exactly what I’m going to do,” you cross your arms over your chest defiantly. “So, if you’ll excuse me…” You trail off, hoping she’ll step away and leave you to your peace.

She doesn’t. That’s not Mor.

“I had a rough day!”

“You say that every day,” she whines, stomping her heel-clad foot. “Don’t you even want to know what I’m inviting you to tonight?”

“From the look of your clothes, no, I don’t want to know what you’re doing tonight, Mor, and no, I don’t want to join you, either.”

Your roommate scrunches her nose, tipping it towards the ceiling. “I’ll have you know that this outfit is cute.”

“Yeah, if the definition of cute changed to ‘not pleasing or appealing to look at.’”

“You take that back,” Mor shouts, full naming you.

As your lips part in apology, because that was rude of you, your other roommate pads out of her room. Her reading glasses are perched up on her nose, blue eyes round and wide, and it always looks like she’s looking around the room in wonder. She has a blanket thrown over her shoulders and looks every bit of cozy you wish you were.

“Gwyn,” you sigh in relief at the sight of her. “Please, help.”

“I already said no,” she offers you a sympathetic wince. “I don’t think there’s any getting you out of the hockey game, sorry babe.”

Now it’s your jaw that falls to the floor. No, it falls through the floor and about five more floors down, hitting the lobby with a crack that echoes through the building.

You whirl on Mor. “Hockey game? Since when have you been interested in hockey?”

“Since my cousin got named team captain this year,” she says smugly, and you don’t know why she’s acting vain, it just means that he’s captain of the douchebags now, even you know that. Mor turns, showing off the back of her jersey. The number one stands out like a beacon, and you brush her blonde hair over her shoulder to read the smaller patches spelling out what is in fact, her family name.

Cunningham.

“Think of all the parties we’ll get into,” she says over her shoulder, and she does have a point there. The athletes at your college are a group of students that you don’t ever interact with, nor do you care. Mor is all about connections though, and if she wants to go to the hockey game, then it looks like you’re going with her.

You wonder what excuse Gwyn used to get out of it. She looks mighty comfy right now, slinking over the plop down on the couch and turn on a movie.

“Why do we have to go to the game? Can’t we just go to the parties?” You ask, grasping for anything to get out of this. You don’t want to go sit in the cold arena and watch a bunch of guys wearing full-body padding slide up and down the ice. Why couldn’t her cousin have been on the baseball team? They have nice, tight uniforms.

“Because,” Mor emphasizes with a glare, spinning to face you once more to give you the full effect of her irritation. “I’m a good cousin, and if we don’t attend the games, we’re going to be blacklisted from the parties,” she grumbles, the fight leaving her a little bit. “I’ve already argued about it with Rhys, I don’t want to have to argue with you too.”

It’s with your sigh that Mor brightens. “Fine. I’ll come with you, but I’m not going to be happy about it. And don’t expect me to cheer.”

Her squeal pierces the sound barrier. What the fuck have you gotten yourself into?

Mor grabs your hand, dragging you towards the empty single room that’s left in your dorm. She uses it as an extension of her closet until someone else gets placed with you. So far, you’ve been lucky, living here since freshman year, just the three of you. “Great! I got you a shirt!”

_________________________________________

Over Ice Taglist:

[barcaatthemoon]

passenger princess || mackenzie arnold x reader ||

sometimes, you wish that mackenzie would let you drive.

"come on, we're gonna be late!" you shouted at mackenzie. the two of you both had media to do, and mackenzie had taken all morning getting ready. you thought that she looked absolutely stunning, but you didn't want to get yelled at for missing your required media.

"your chariot awaits," mackenzie said as she opened the passenger's side door for you.

"mac, babe, i love you, but i think that i should drive today," you tried to tell her. it was really no use because mackenzie obviously didn't want to listen. she always got like this whenever you suggested driving the two of you somewhere.

you had grown up in the city, and while mackenzie had been there for a good amount of time, she wasn't a local. mackenzie didn't know all of the shortcuts and side roads that would cut your travel time down by a third. and so, the two of you truged into the training facilities about 10 minutes late.

"sorry boss, traffic was horrible." mackenzie was quick to diffuse your coach and the media team's ire towards the two of you. they didn't seem too annoyed with mackenzie, but that same courtesy wasn't extended towards you. mac was their world class goalkeeper, and you were just another midfielder that they had gotten cheap. you had come up with a team that had come up during a relegation swap. whenever they went right back down the next season, you had joined west ham instead.

"we could have gotten here sooner if someone would have let me drive," you said. a few of your teammates started snickering behind you, as did mackenzie. you turned to glare at all of them, but the look that you sent your girlfriend was a bit more hurt.

"don't take it personally babe, but you're just not the driving type. you look too pretty in my passenger's seat." mackenzie was trying to be sweet, but it didn't work. she placed her fingers underneath your chin to tilt it up and kiss you, but you turned your face at the last second. a chorus of 'ooo's rang out from your teammates as you stormed out of the locker room.

the media bit was a little intense after that. mackenzie had only been joking, and her attempt at an apology had been brushed off. she didn't mean to upset you. driving wasn't something that she thought would be such a big deal for the two of you. she just liked doing things for you, and since you were normally very independent, this was one of the few things she had the opportunity to even attempt.

"are you ready to go back home?" mackenzie asked as the two of you made your way towards the parking lot.

"i'm not going home with you tonight," you told her. mackenzie's face fell immediately at the news. you hadn't been back to your apartment in two months, having stayed at mackenzie's. your lease was going to be up soon, and your roommate was in talks with a new transfer about moving in. however, you still had a couple of weeks before that happened.

"no!" mackenzie shouted. you winced at the loudness in such a close proximity. mackenzie's face softened a bit as she grabbed you by the arm and tugged you towards the car. "you don't live there, you live with me. we always go home together, you know this. did what i say really upset you this much?"

"it's not just the passenger princess jokes, mac. it's also not just you. i don't want all the girls and the staff to think that i can't do anything for myself. you don't hear all the jokes and comments. i swear that some of them think i can't do anything for myself." mackenzie's face fell as she saw how genuinely worked up you were getting over this. it went a lot further than she had known, and suddenly, mackenzie felt absolutely terrible that you'd been holding in these feelings for so long by yourself.

"hey, (y/n), look at me." mackenzie grabbed your face and leaned in close enough for you to feel her breath against your cheek. "i am sorry for making you feel bad. i am sorry for letting things get so out of hand. i know that you're independent. hell, you do practically everything for me, and driving you around, it feels like the only thing i can offer to help you out. if you want to drive us back, you can, just please come home with me. i don't want to spend a single night without you if i don't have to."

"mac, baby?"

"yeah?" mackenzie seemed scared, as if you were going to tell her that you still wanted to go back to your own apartment. a night in with mackenzie, even whenever you were mad at her, was better than a night in with your roommate any day.

"take me home," you told her. mackenzie's shoulders sagged down a little with relief. you pressed a quick kiss to her lips and threaded your fingers with hers. the two of you walked through the parking lot together towards mackenzie's car. she got the door for you, absolutely beaming when you kissed her cheek in thanks. "can we stop by tesco's on the way home?"

"of course. i'll take you anywhere you want to go." mackenzie grabbed onto your hand and kissed the back of it. you let out a little giggle and settled back into your seat. there wasn't any tension in the car, which you were beyond grateful for.

mackenzie pushed the cart for you in the store, following as you walked around picking out seemingly random things. some of it was groceries that you had noticed earlier needed to be replenished, but quite a bit of the things you were buying weren't things that you normally bought at all. mackenzie didn't bring it up, assuming that it was for some sort of surprise at home.

"can i get some assistance from my favorite sous chef?" you asked mackenzie. she looked up from the couch to see you standing in the entryway of the kitchen holding an apron that you had bought her as a joke. mackenzie could cook, but she rarely did outside of using the grill every other weekend during the summer months.

"i don't know what you're making," mackenzie told you. you brushed it off and helped her into the apron. you gave very clear directions and within the hour, you had a homemade sauce simmering for a spaghetti night.

"how does it taste?" you watched nervously as mackenzie tasted a bit of the sauce.

"if football doesn't work out, you should open a restaurant," mackenzie told you. you moved to press a kiss to her cheek as thanks, unsurprised when mackenzie turned so your lips landed on hers. her hands grabbed at your waist, squeezing gently as she deepened the kiss. "better yet, i'll keep you on as my personal chef. and i can be your chauffeur if you'd like."

"sounds good to me. now, go set the table, the food is almost ready." you gave mackenzie a gentle shove away from you. mackenzie blew you a kiss as she carried the plates and silverware out to the dining room table. mackenzie sat excitedly at the table when you got out there, right next to the place that she set for you. she spent the whole meal practically just staring at you, often to the point of spilling a bit of her sauce on herself every other bite. it was ridiculous, but another reminder of why it was so easy to love mackenzie sometimes.

[foreingersgod]

what about like a paige x reader like they met on vacation somewhere during a break and then they hooked up or something thinking they would never see eachother again but turns out reader is the new uconnwbb team manager

Naked in Manhattan . PB

pairing: paige bueckers x reader

synopsis: you were devastated to face the reality that you’d never get to see your one night stand while on vacation, but maybe the universe has other plans for you

new crush

high school love again

it was finally spring break. no more midterms or study sessions to worry about, just your feet in the sand and a drink in your hand. you and your roommates had planned a small trip to california to celebrate the hard work you’d all put in for the semester. nothing too extravagant, just a quaint beach house right off the coast to let all of your worries wash away.

it was beautiful, just big enough for the 4 of you. when you had arrived you were practically planning out everything you would be doing. a week of doing nothing but sitting on a soft towel, bathing in the sun, listening to the waves crash while you read your book sounded like heaven.

but your roommates had other plans for you. they had heard about a ‘beach bro party’, whatever the hell that was, that a local fraternity was throwing. anyone and every was was apparently invited. the second the raggedy flyer hit the cool marble counter tops of your air b&b, you knew any plans of relaxation were gone.

so there you were on your second night of vacation, crammed into the single bathroom with your roommates, doing your makeup and hair for this dumb party. if it weren’t for the girls begging you to come, you truly would have stayed behind. but they were too convincing and now you were here, shoving your boobs into the most uncomfortable bra known to man and dousing yourself in perfume.

after about 30 minutes at the frat party you were about ready to call it quits. the drinks were absolutely foul (you were sure it was straight acid) and the lights and heavy music were giving you a blaring headache. spring break was starting to feel less and less fun as you pretended to enjoy whatever the hell was going on in that house. you didn’t know anyone, your roommates had ditched you for some random frat guys, and you didn’t have the keys to get back home. in hopes that you could wait it out, you snuck off into a corner of the house, taking a seat on the cigarette smoke infused sofa.

you tried to distract yourself until at least one of your roommates was finished fucking around with a guy so you could leave. closing your eyes, fiddling with the frayed threads of your shorts, scrolling on your phone, nothing helped to kill the boredom. you were about ready to stand up and drag your friends out the door yourself until someone approached the couch, taking a seat next to you.

she had a drink in hand, half empty, still laughing about something someone shouted across the room. she was tall, blonde, and if you were being honest, smoking hot. you glanced at her briefly to try and study her face, trying not to make it too obvious. her hair was pulled back into a flattering ponytail, body clad in a black tshirt and jeans, teeth a sparkling white as you watched her smile and laugh. she was definitely your type.

but eventually, your stares began to linger a little bit too long and she caught you. her eyes meeting with yours just before you could turn away.

“you good?” she asked, setting her drink down the on coffee table.

“hm?” you asked, trying to sound oblivious “yea i’m fine”

“are you sure, cause you keep looking over here”

“i don’t know what you’re talking about” you felt her gaze linger on you, too nervous to make eye contact with her.

“yea,” she laughed, scoffing under her breath “sure you don’t”

“i’m serious, i think you’re a bit drunk cause i genuinely don’t”

“well i’m sober enough to know that you keep staring at me when im not looking soooo”

“why would i being staring at you, huh?” you retorted “a bit full of yourself?”

“maybe it’s because, i don’t know, you see something you like?” now she was just fucking with you. she had this stupid, lopsided grin on her face as she watched your jaw drop in offense.

“oh please”

“i don’t know,” she said “you hesitated there, think i’m right”

you resisted rolling your eyes “and so what? god forbid i look at an attractive woman? my bad”

“so you admit then?” she questioned “that’s why you were staring?”

“if that makes you feel better? then sure, yes that’s why i was staring” you bit your lip and watched as her tongue darted between her teeth, swiping her bottom lip. she eyed you up and down, eyes darkening.

“it actually does” she scooted closer to you, arm extending past you to lay across the back of the couch “what’s your name?”

“…YN” your breathe caught in your throat as her thigh came in contact with yours. “you?”

“paige”

The rush of slumber party kissing

somewhere in between the banter and the alcohol, paige’s tongue found its way down your throat. she had so politely invited you upstairs while her hands were already making their way up you shirt. you obliged and followed her upstairs to some abandoned bedroom while you tried to ignore the aching feeling between your legs.

the door gently clicked behind you as you shut it. when you turned around, paige was already pressing you against the wall. her lips finding their way to your neck and sucking lightly at the smooth skin. you audibly moaned, fingers automatically diving into her scalp and tugging lightly at her blonde locks.

you shuddered when you felt her fingers against the skin of your abdomen again, creeping their way up your shirt like they had previously. she stopped at the bottom of your bra as she pulled away from your neck.

“this ok?” she asked.

you hummed in response, nodding your head violently, taking her face in your hands to plant a passionate kiss on her lips. with little hesitation, she was already pulling your top over your head and unclasping your bra, hands desperately squeezing at your breasts as she backed you up towards the bed.

with lips still attached, the back of your knees hit the foot of the bed causing you to fall onto your back gently. paige followed and climbed atop your body, not letting her hands off of you.

out of breathe and wanting more, you pulled away, tugging at the bottom of her shirt. “can i?”

she didn’t need to hear anymore. the black piece of fabric was already being thrown to the floor, revealing her sports bra which you also tore off her. what a lovely sight to see, you thought.

not long after, both of your pants were discarded, then your panties, and then her boxers. she planted wet kisses down your abdomen, throwing your legs over her shoulders as she made herself comfortable between your thighs.

“is this crazy?” you panted. you managed to bite back a moan of pleasure to look down at her, seeing her look up at you with eyes blown with lust.

“maybe a little” she said “but i can’t help myself”

Don't touch, I'll never cross the line

So I pushed you down a million times

waves crashed against the shore outside, chatter of people walking by slithered past the window of this foreign room you were in. your head was throbbing as you rose from your slumber, you definitely had too much to drink.

shuffling sounded from the other side of the room, causing you to fully wake. you looked over, pulling up the sheets above your bare body, to see paige was already awake. she was almost completely dressed, buttoning up her pants and lacing up her sneakers.

“was i that bad?”

her head snapped in your direction, startled to hear your voice. part of her wanted you to say it again, liking the way the it groveled from the early hours of the morning.

“no” she laughed, offering a smile “you were amazing actually”

“you weren’t too bad yourself”

she was beginning to look around for her keys and wallet, seemingly ignoring you as you remained in bed, still naked and vulnerable.

your brain was screaming at you, begging you to call out to her. part of you wanted to ask for her number, ask for her to stay with you. but the other part of you knew what this was, this wasn’t a date or anything serious. sure, you had developed a liking to paige over the course of the night you spent together. how could you not? she absolutely worshipped you, made you erupt with pleasure, was so sweet to you. this wasn’t something you wanted to let go. but it was unrealistic, you lived miles away from here in another state and paige most definitely had her own things to worry about. pursuing her was not in your cards.

so you kept your mouth shut, watching her shove her keys into her pocket. you assumed she’d just walk out, mutter a goodbye and leave, but she paused and turned to you.

“i-uh, don’t normally do things like that” she said, trying not to look at the outline of your body beneath the duvet “but i wanted to say thanks. i know that that’s cringe, but it’s true. you were…unforgettable”

you could tell she was going through the same thing. mind swamped with conflicting emotions, wanting to stay to see how this played out but also forcing herself to be realistic.

“you too” you gave her a bittersweet smile.

she just nodded at you before heading to the door, fingers wrapping around the cold metal handle.

“bye, YN”

“bye, paige”

and just like that, she was gone. maybe in another lifetime you’d get more time.

I'd love if you knew you were on my mind

Constant like cicadas in the summertime

every since that morning, paige had invaded your thoughts. the remaining time you had on vacation was spent obsessing over what could have been, what might have happened if you just asked for her number. spring break didn’t even seem fun anymore. you didn’t join your friends as they explored the shops in the city or attend anymore parties they managed to scope out. instead you went to the beach, like you originally intended, letting your mind wander as you listened to the ocean. something in you wished that the nagging feeling would eventually go away.

it never did though. even after break was long over, all of you heading home and resuming your schoolwork, she was still on your mind. it made it difficult to do anything. getting homework done, attending lectures, going out on weekends. it was useless because all you could think about was paige. your heart ached as daydreams of her consumed you.

back at UCONN you were doing your best to keep motivated. trying to rid your mind of a foolish dream that you knew was never going to come true. you tried joining clubs and making new friends just to distract yourself. you had even gone so far as to get a new job for the university, taking on the position as the assist team manager for their women’s basketball team. it was a perfect match: you, someone with a general liking and background for basketball who needed to get her life back in order, and a team who was thriving and needed all the help they could get.

Boys suck and girls I've never tried

And we both know we're getting drunk tonight

you woke up at 6:00 am on the dot. it was going to be your first day on the job and you wouldn’t be caught looking unpresentable, so you made sure to give yourself time to get ready.

it was a lovely day as you stepped outside of your apartment building. birds were chirping, the sun was shining, and the traffic was light enough that it didn’t give you a migraine. you made the decision to walk to work, let your thoughts dissipate as you tried to enjoy a relaxing morning.

the walk, like you had hoped, was freeing. you didn’t feel as anxious anymore as you walked into the building, ready to tackle the trials of the day. being the new girl, you had to go through all the new orientation material. get your ID picture taken, fill out some paperwork, the whole process. then it was time to meet with geno and the rest of the management crew.

“you must be YN” he shook your hand firmly “it’s nice to meet you”

“the pleasure is all my mine” you grinned. you made your way around the room, introducing yourself to any unfamiliar faces and learning more about what the job would entail. after some light mingling, geno found you again.

“the girls are out there warming up right now, are you ready to get acquainted with team?”

“definitely”

shoes squeaked against the glossy gym floor, heavy breathing filled the room as you followed geno into the gym. you watched as the girls made shots, passed the ball, and ran drills with ease. it was quite impressive. geno had hollered for them to gather upon your entrance, signaling for them to form a circle so he could introduce you.

you stood timidly next to him, watching the girls round up. trying to inspect each girl carefully as they approached the huddle. they all looked extremely kind. a few offered you a smile or a wave and you smiled in return.

then, as geno began talking, the final few girls joined the group. the last girl in particular had grabbed your attention. you couldn’t see her face very well, only able to catch glimpses of her as she pushed her way through to the front. but when she emerged past the front row, your heart skipped a beat and your breathe caught in your throat. you wouldn’t miss that familiar blonde in a thousand years.

“this is going to be the newest member of the team,” geno stepped aside, putting you on the spotlight “YN, she’s our new assistant team manager. i expect you all to get to know each other and play nice. i’m looking at you paige”

it hadn’t felt real until you heard her name. like it was ingrained in your mind, you finally found the courage to lock eyes with her. there she was in all her glory, staring back at you in disbelief. while everyone else laughed at geno’s innocent joke, greeting you briefly before heading back to their warmups, you and paige remained frozen. she stood across from you, confused expression on her face. you felt like you couldn’t move, like you couldn’t breathe.

“YN” her voice was barely above a whisper.

“paige”

she looked over her shoulder, assessing to see if anyone was paying attention before walking over to you. paige lightly grabbed your forearm, leading you off the gym floor and into a more secluded corner of the building. you had to admit, it only took that one touch to make your heart start racing again.

“what are you doing here?” she asked, now that you were in a private area.

“what am i doing here?” you asked in return “what are you doing here?”

“well obviously i play basketball here”

“ok smart ass,” you rolled your eyes, she hadn’t changed much “i just meant that i had no idea you were going to be here”

“i thought you knew” she breathed “when we met, i thought you knew who i was. i thought that’s why you were staring at me that night”

“of course i didn’t know!” you were unsure what to say.

“have you really been at UCONN this whole time?” she continued “oh my god this is insane”

“what are the odds, right?”

“i thought i’d never see you again”

“me neither” you said before an uncomfortable silence fell between you. nor you or paige had ever expected to see each other again, accepting your fate that you would evidently go your separate ways.

“so what now?” she asked.

“would you…i don’t know what to get a drink or something?” a poor attempt at asking her out “that sounded really fucking dumb, but i’d like to catch up”

“yea,” she scratched the back of neck, trying to hide the goofy smile that formed on her lips “i’d like that”

Touch me, baby, put your lips on mine

Could go to hell but we'll probably be fine

the dress you were wearing was practically suffocating you. neckline scratching your chest, straps digging into your shoulders, hemline riding up your thighs every time you moved. the bar stool you sat at was of no comfort, either. you shifted uncomfortably as you looked around the bar, waiting for any sign of paige. you had made plans for the weekend to meet up so you could make up for lost time.

the night was beginning to drag on and it was getting awfully close to 8:00 pm. you hoped she wasn’t going to stand you up. but, as if on cue, the door to the bar opened revealing a very exasperated paige. she spotted you there, alone with a drink already in front of you.

“hey i’m so sorry” she apologized for her near tardiness “traffic was a bitch”

“it’s ok, was just worried you’d stand me up” you joked.

“i wouldn’t miss it for the world”

you blushed, looking down at your drink. paige ordered one of her own before finally settling in the seat next to yours. you didn’t think she could look anymore beautiful, seeing her there with her hair cascading around her face and dressed in neat clothing. she eyed you carefully, it was starting to seem like a habit the way she kept sneaking glances at you.

“you look beautiful” she chewed on the inside of her cheek.

“stop” you laughed.

“no really” she shook her head, swallowing deeply “i mean it, you’re breath taking”

“well thank you, and thanks for agreeing to go out tonight. i’ll be honest…i’ve been thinking about you…like a lot”

“i’ve been thinking about you too” her demeanor started to shift “i really regretted just walking out that night. i was in my head and i just assumed that we’d be going our separate ways”

“i don’t blame you, i was too” you tired to offer consolation “i mean who would have assumed that we both went to the same school and just happened to vacation in the same place?”

she laughed at that, finally giving you a relaxed and genuine smile.

“a crazy coincidence…i’m really really happy you’re here, YN. this just doesn’t feel real”

“i glad i’m here too” you felt like a weight was lifted off your chest, no more wondering about who paige was or what she did. you knew now, she was here with you.

hours went by as you and paige reveled in conversation, spilling every detail, every story, every memory of your lives. it felt like this was meant to be, that the universe had purposely aligned yours and paige’s path. it felt so natural to talk to her. she was easy going and funny, she was an attentive listener and laughed at all your jokes. it was unbelievable that you found her again and you were more than grateful.

“would you-i don’t know, maybe this is too forward” paige began, gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips as you were finishing up your drinks “would you want to come back to my apartment?…i don’t want this night to end”

“i would love that” you blurted with urgency, butterflies forming in your stomach.

she nodded, not even bothering to respond. her hand came in contact with yours as she paid your tab and dragged you out of the bar.

cold air nipped at your bare skin as you walked with paige to her car. she politely opened the door for you, helping you in. the drive to her place wasn’t long at all, but you had noticed she was right, traffic was a bitch. but her music taste was impeccable and you had plenty to talk about so the drive didn’t feel excessive at all.

when you arrived at her apartment, she pulled out her keys to unlock the door, hinges creaking as she led you inside. it was a perfect little apartment from what you could see. it was warm and cozy, definitely well loved, and you thought it fit her perfectly. she turned on the lights and told you to take a seat on the couch and make yourself comfortable.

paige sat next you, leaving a few inches between you two. the distance and the dimly lit room took you back to spring break. it felt like you never left.

“i like your place,” you commented “it suits yo-”

“can i kiss you?”

“what?”

“please” she closed the gap between you, scooting closer to you just like before “i don’t think i can sit here, replaying that night in my head over and over and not know what it feels like to have your lips on mine again”

you let out a breathe, not realizing you had been holding it in the first place. she looked desperate, leaning into you, hands making their way up to cradle your jaw. her fingers caressed the curve of your chin, fingers hooking underneath to pull you in. but she stopped, painfully waiting for your response.

“yes” you said “please, please kiss me already”

so she did, teeth clashing with yours in haste, pulling you into her without a second thought.

I know you want it, baby, you can have it

your discarded clothes made a messy trail down the hallway to paige’s bedroom. your shirt crumpled on the couch, belt slung over the stair railings, bra tossed onto the end of her bed. her clothes followed, making a pile on the floor. your hands were buried in her hair as she nibbled at your ear, then kissing down to your collarbone. the room was silent all except for your breathy moans and the disgustingly erotic, wet sounds from paige’s lips.

it was needy, it was passionate, and it was absolutely perfect. the way her body fit with yours like a puzzle, it was written in the stars.

Oh, I've never done it, let's make it cinematic

Like that one sex scene that's in Mulholland Drive

it could’ve been a scene from a movie. something you’d watch as teenage girl, when you’re at a slumber party with your friends and someone snuck in an R rated movie. and you’d all watch it, gasping and giggling when the actors would start to take of their clothes. you would stare at the screen while everyone was pretending to gag and freaking out, shutting it off before it got too intense, but all you could think about what how beautiful it was. that those two people loved each other so much that it was like fireworks going off, every touch and every word muttered served as a declaration of love.

that’s what it was like with paige. it was like that movie had come to life. everything about it was like something from a fantasy.

the satin sheets bunched around paige’s hips as she worshipped you. the gentle whimpering in your ear as she rutted into you. your not so gentle moans as you came undone around her fingers. how the room was hot and humid from your pure passion.

all of it was pure magnificence.

I wanna know, baby, what is it like?

I know you want it, baby, you can have it

you awoke the next morning, sunshine filtering in through smoggy clouds. paige began to stir next to you, arms finding their way from under the blanket to the bareness of your torso where she traced meaningless shapes into your skin.

“good morning” she muttered into the pillow, still fighting off sleep.

“morning” you beamed, watching her eyes flutter open “how’d you sleep?”

“better than i ever have”

you yawned with a lopsided grin, soaking in her elegance as she sat up to stretch. the world might as well have just stopped from the way she looked at you, like you were the only thing that mattered.

“hey paige?”

“hm?”

Oh, I've never done it,

“please don’t let me go this time”

naked in Manhattan

“i won’t” she replied “never again”

[arlana-likes-to-write]

Marry Me

Summary: Once upon a time, you dreamed of marrying your girlfriend of two years but she broke up with you before you had the chance to ask her for her hand. Now with a wedding invitation in your hand, she's getting married but she's not marrying you.

Pairings: Past!Wanda Maximoff x reader, Yelena Belova x reader

Warnings: mention of cheating, angst with a happy ending, modern AU, no powers/Avengers, Starks aren't dead and decent parents lol

Word Count: 4.4k

‘Together with their families Wanda and Vision invite you to their wedding,’ the world around you seemed to become white noise. You didn’t hear your roommate talk about some guy that stood her up or the weatherman talking about the weather. Nothing else seemed to matter. “Are you listening to me?” No, you weren’t. That’s what you wanted to say but you stayed frozen, unable to speak. Sarah snatched the invitation out of your hand. You didn’t bother to stop her. “No fucking way this bitch invited you to her wedding,” Sarah had strong feelings about the ending of your relationship with Wanda. She had every right to be upset as she was the one to mend the broken pieces. “Are you going?”

“Fuck Sarah I don’t know,” you glanced at the time on the stove. “And I do not have time for this.” You were supposed to have a quick lunch at home and then return to the office for a meeting with important investors. Being blindsided by an invite to your ex-girlfriend’s wedding was something you didn’t have time for. “I have to go. Just leave it on the fridge,” you grabbed your backpack. Lunch was a protein bar and a banana.

“Hey, dumbass,” you stopped at the door, turning to face your roommate. “I love you.” You rolled your eyes.

“Love you too, dumbass.” You walked out of your apartment, not bothering with the elevator. It was a beautiful sunny day, a stark contrast to the emotions that were swirling inside of you. Once upon a time, you dreamed of marrying Wanda. You were together for 2 years and knew every detail of how she wanted the wedding to be. It would be out in the country, not too many people to save on money. Maybe on an apple orchard or magnolia trees surrounding the ceremony. You would have given her everything, no matter the cost, and you were looking at rings to buy. Then she broke up with you. It was rather sudden, out of the blue, and she never gave you a good enough explanation. She told you that she fell out of love with you. A month later, she and Vision started dating. Sarah figured she was cheating on you. You couldn’t stomach that possibility.

“Nice of you to finally show up,” Tony said as the elevator’s door opened to his office. You rolled your eyes and sat down in the empty chair in front of his desk. You gave Pepper a small smile.

“I’m technically early,” you opened the protein bar. “I got distracted at home.” Tony sent a questioning look to his wife.

“Do you want-?”

“No,” you cut him off. “Let’s begin.” You got out your tablet and the meeting began without a second thought. You were the Chief Entrepreneur of Stark Industries. Your parents were close friends with the Starks and you and Tony grew up together. He was the brother you never had. So when Howard stepped down as Executive Chairman, Tony took over and promoted Pepper to CEO and you to Chief Entrepreneur. You were responsible for managing a portfolio of entrepreneurs. Your team was the future of Stark Industries, taking on risks and coming up with new products while Pepper ran the company. You didn’t envy her job and you loved working here. It was the best part of your day. However, it got uncomfortable and awkward when you had to deal with the CFO, who happened to be Vision and Tony’s brother.

They weren’t related by blood but you knew that made no difference, you were close with Natasha and Yelena. Howard and Maria adopted Vision when you and Tony were in high school. He was two years younger than you. You remembered the day when Vision and Wanda announced their relationship so clearly. Tony dragged you into his office and asked if you wanted him to fire Vision and kick his ass. You told him that it wasn’t necessary. You were professional and respectful with the man. It was rare that your paths crossed. You only had to be in the same room as him during company-wide meetings or meetings with investors. Of course, you had one today. The universe was testing you.

Once Tony concluded the meeting, you and Pepper left his office. It was rare that he came to these types of meetings as he trusted you and Pepper to make the right calls regarding the company. You both stopped to make a quick coffee. “Can I ask you something?” She nodded. “Are you helping Wanda with her wedding?”

“She’s asked me for some advice here and there,” she looked at you curiously. “Why?”

“Do you know why she invited me then?” In hindsight, you probably should have waited for the CEO to not be taking a sip of her coffee before dropping the news. She coughed, choking on the hot liquid. You bite your lip, trying to get your laughter under control, and rubbed her back to help her calm down. “Sorry.” You giggled. She waved you off and wiped her mouth with a napkin.

“It’s fine,” she cleared her throat. “She invited you to her wedding.” You nodded as you continued on your way to the board room.

“I got the invitation today,” you said. “It was why I was late, kind of took me by surprise.” You took a sip of your coffee.

“Shit, I don’t blame you,” you giggled. You loved Pepper. She was a perfect fit for Tony. She was the only one that could reel in your brother’s energy. “Are you going to go?” You didn’t answer. “Tony is Vision’s best man and I know Wanda asked Natasha to be her maid of honor.” You weren’t surprised by that. Natasha was the reason Wanda was part of your workgroup and how you met her. The redhead held onto a lot of guilt because of what happened. You didn’t blame her.

“Not sure, Pep. We will see,” you saw Yelena and Natasha waiting for you and you quickened your pace. Natasha was the Chief of Staff and the first person you hired when you got promoted. She helped you manage executive goals and you trusted her to oversee projects you didn’t have time for. You worried when your relationship ended with Wanda your friendship would the redhead was going to be jeopardized. It wasn’t and a huge weight was lifted off your shoulders. “Are you ready?” You asked Yelena when you got closer. The blonde was the reason you were having the meeting. She was a new hire but there was no limit to the ideas she had. Her latest project would partner Stark Industries with Wakandans International to develop a better prosthetic.

“I think I’m going to throw up,” her Russian accent took you by surprise when you first met her as Natasha introduced her as her sister. You laughed, shaking your head.

“Don’t be nervous,” she gave you a pointed look. “Come here,” you dragged her away from her sister and Pepper to a more private area. “You are going to kill it today. Do you know why?” She shook her head. “Because you have a passionate for this project on a level I’ve never seen before,” she began to smile. “And you have the support of everyone at this company, okay?”

“Okay,” you smiled.

“Just go in there and speak with the same passion you had when you explained it to me and you’ll do great.”

“Thank you. I appreciate you having some much faith in me,” you put your hand on her shoulder and squeezed it.

“No need to thank me,” you brought her back over to her sister with her hand still on her shoulder. You didn’t miss the questioning look the redhead sent you and you removed your hand quickly. “Shall we?” You opened the door for your group and everyone found their seats to wait for the others.

The meeting went…okay. You introduced everyone to Shuri, T’Challa, and Okoye. You’ve spoken to the trip on the phone but it was nice to meet them in person. Yelena began to present her research and the importance of the partnership but Vision questioned every little thing to an annoying degree. You understood it was his job to understand how this would affect the company financially however it was starting to piss you off. Even Yelena knew he was getting on your nerves as you tirelessly defended everyone in your group. The glares he was sending your way weren’t helping. Was there trouble in paradise?

In the end, the deal was signed and work with the Wakandans could being. Plus, you didn’t murder your ex’s fiance so it was a win-win in your book.

*

You loved when a new deal was signed. It meant an influx of projects for your team to work on and more people to help. But the first day was meant with paperwork, scheduling, and delegating responsibilities. And meetings. So many meetings. You were tired, hungry, and in desperate need of a beer. You were putting on your headphones as you exited the elevator and headed for the door but a voice calling out your name caused you to stop. It was a voice you knew so well. “Wanda,” you said as your ex-girlfriend approached you. She looked good, wearing a long dress that touched the ground. Her hands were resting in front of her and she was playing with the rings that were on her fingers. A tale sign of her anxiety. “What are you doing here?” You questioned.

“Waiting for Vision,” Right. Of course, she was. That was a stupid question. “He said you and Yelena closed on a big deal.”

“We did,” you said. “Yelena did a majority of the work. I just guided her in the right direction.” You saw a strange emotion flash across her eyes. It was gone as quickly as it came so you couldn’t place it.

“Well congratulations,” you smiled as your thanks. An awkward beat of silence passed between you two. God, you didn’t know how to get out of this conversation. “Did you get your invitation?”

“Uh yes, I did,” Great. This is exactly where you didn’t want this conversation to go. “It was beautifully designed.” It wasn’t a total lie, you just had no memory of what it looked as you stared at the tagline - ‘Wanda and Vision invite you.’ Wanda and Vision. She wanted to get married but she wasn’t marrying you.

“Do you think-” your name being called out cut her off and you turned towards the sound. It was Yelena. You didn’t realize the blonde was still at the office and you never been more excited to see her.

“Ugh,” she groaned. “I didn’t think you were going to wait for me.” She said as she got closer. “Oh hi, Wanda.” The blonde plastered a fake smile on her face.

“Hi Yelena,” the smile on Wanda’s face was strained. Yelena looked at you.

“Ready to go get drinks?” Drinks? Her green eyes said a lot more than her simple statement. She was giving you an out. You made a mental note to increase her yearly bonus.

“I am,” you smiled at your ex. “It was good seeing you, Wanda. I’ll see you around.”

“Of course,” she said. “Congratulations, again. You both deserve to celebrate.” Yelena linked her arm with yours.

“Bye Wands,” the blonde dragged you to the door. When you both stepped outside and you were out of sight, Yelena dropped her arm. “Boy, you could feel the tension in the lobby.” You let out a relieved sigh.

“Thank you for the save,” you said. “I owe you one.” She shrugged.

“Don’t mention it. I do it a lot for Kate and America when we go out. It’s second nature,” she started to smile. Oh, that smile was trouble. “Buuuut, if you want to make it up to me I know of a bar that is close by. We do have something to celebrate.”

“Hmm,” you placed your hand on your chin pretending to think. “I don’t think we have anything to celebrate,” you teased. “And I am pretty tired.” You faked a yawn.

“Suka (bitch),” you pushed on your shoulder. You gasped.

“That is assault,” you said. “I’m calling HR.” Yelena rolled her eyes.

“Are we going or not?”

“Lead the way, printsessa (princess),” you bowed. She laughed, throwing her head back at your pathetic attempt at Russian. You liked the sound of it.

*

“I still can’t believe you are going to this stupid wedding,” Sarah said through Face time. You sighed as you put your tie underneath the collar of your shirt. “And you didn’t even bring me.”

“I didn’t have a plus one,” that was 100% on purpose. The last thing Wanda would have wanted was for your best friend that wasn’t her number 1 fan to come to her wedding. “What else was I supposed to do? Tony closed the office because everyone was invited and you are visiting family.” You weren’t going to sit at home and be depressed. At least some of your friends were going to be there, but most importantly Yelena. “You put your jacket on. “How do I look?” You were in an all-gray suit with a white shirt. The only pop of color came from your tie.

“Hot,” Sarah said. “Damn if I were into chicks I’d grab you.” You rolled your eyes.

“Thanks,” you sighed, looking down at the watch Howard gave you for your 18th birthday. “I better get going. I’ll text you after the ceremony.”

“Good luck!” You ended the call. You were going to need more than you, what you needed was at least 5 shots.

*

The ceremony was in an apple orchard. It appeared the happy couple rented out the inn and the orchard for a private wedding. You were handed confetti as you approached the rows of seats. There were small groups of people, all of them you knew, waiting for the ceremony to begin. You saw Pepper, who sent you a small wave. You waved back and sat in the back row at the end of the row. Thankfully, no one came up to you to talk because you weren’t in the talking mood. Instead, you played with the watch on your wrist. “Well,” you looked towards the voice and saw Howard Stark. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”

“Mr. Stark,” you stood up, holding out your hand for him to shake. The man rolled his eyes and pulled you into a hug.

“Please. I changed your diapers when you were a kid,” you felt your body heat up in embarrassment. “Drop the act, kid, it makes me feel old,” you smiled and sat down, leaving the end seat for him. “How are you? You don’t come by the house anymore.” That was true. You didn’t want to run into Wanda or Vision by chance.

“I’ve been busy,” you told him. “Your son is running me ragged.” It was the furthest thing from the truth but it pulled a laugh out of the older man.

“It was the best decision that boy has ever made promoting you and Pepper,” you smiled. “But how are you?” He asked again. “How is this?” He placed a gentle hand on your heart. You sighed, looking at the ceremony. This was going to be you, marrying Wanda but she picked someone else.

“Tired, Howard, if I’m being honest. I feel a little lost,” he nodded. You knew the man would never judge you. He’s seen you at your lowest point when you found out your parents were killed in a car accident. You were in a meeting with him and Tony when Maria came in to tell you. Losing them broke you but the Starks were there to catch you. It was why it hurt so much that it was Vision who started dating Wanda.

“I always told my boys to go after what they wanted, I never expected that advice to hurt someone I considered a daughter,” your breath hitched. You always so him as a father-like figured but hearing him call you his daughter brought tears to your eyes. You looked at the archway. You didn’t blame him. “But,” he grabbed onto your shoulder. “You will have your love story that will arrival that of your parents and I can’t wait to see it,” you fought the tears that threatened to fall. “You will always be a Stark, okay?”

“Okay,” you whispered.

“Now I must be going but we will drink at the bar,” he stood up fixing his tie. “I believe I’m paying for it so drinks are on me.” You laughed, whipping away a tear.

“Thank you, Howard,” he gave you a salute and got ready for the ceremony. Folding your hands you sat back and watched as the seats began to fill. Soft music began to play and you were going to need a drink after this.

*

You took a glance at the seating chart. Table 3 with Natasha, Bucky, and Yelena. You were grateful she did that for you. Did you look like an alcoholic as you were the first one to the bar? Probably but you didn’t care. Besides you knew everyone at this wedding and it wasn’t like you were here to impress anyone. You ordered a strawberry mojito and waited for your drink as the rest of the guests filed in. “You know,” you turned to face Yelena as she walked over to you. She was wearing a light green full-length dress. It had a deep v-neck and a slit that went up to her thigh. Her blonde hair was braided. “I did not believe my sister when she said you’d RSVP but here you are.” She ordered herself a long island.

“Yelena,” you said. “You look gorgeous.” The compliment flowed so easily off your lips. You liked the blush that crept up on her cheeks.

“You don’t look half bad yourself,” she fixed the collar of your shirt. “How did you enjoy the ceremony?” She got her drink from the bartender.

“I’m glad to be drinking,” you said, holding out your arm. She took it and you walked her over to your table. The blonde laughed.

“Well, it’s an open bar. So let’s drink till our heart’s content.”

The reception was fun. The first dance was beautiful and speeches made by Tony and Pietro made you laugh. But if you were being honest with yourself, you weren’t paying attention. You found yourself watching Yelena. You weren’t sure when your feelings shifted for the blonde. Since the partnership with the Wakandans, you and she spent late nights at the office. Those nights were filled with laughter, stories, and dreams shared, and stressing over upcoming deadlines. For the first time since your breakup with Wanda, you felt free. Even Tony said something about your mode change.

Natasha sat down next to you with another drink. “I love that you’ve moved on from Wanda,” she handed you the drink. “But can you stop undressing my sister in front of me?” You jumped, startled by the accusation.

“Nat, shit, I’m sorry,” her laughter cut your nervous rambling off. “That’s not funny,” you whined, taking a sip of your drink. It was a lot stronger than your other ones. You wondered if she made it herself.

“I think it’s hilarious,” she leaned back in her chair. “So are you going to ask her out or just stare at her all night?” You groaned, rubbing your hands across your face.

“I don’t know,” your eyes immediately went back to the blonde. She was standing with Kate and Carol. The brunette must have said something funny because she laughed. God, she was beautiful. She must have felt eyes on her because she looked around until her green eyes found you. She waved and you waved back.

“Look, I’m going to intervene because I love you both. She likes you so make a move,” you looked at the redhead, trying to find any sense that she was messing with you. But you found none.

“Are you sure okay with this?” You questioned. “Because if you aren’t I will ignore my feelings for her,” Natasha put her hand on your shoulder.

“She will treat you better than Wanda,” she squeezed. “And if she does anything to hurt you. I won’t hesitate to kill her.” You covered your mouth as you laughed to now draw attention to you. “Go be happy.” You stood up, grabbing your drink.

“Thank you,” you began to walk over to the blonde. You were nervous. If she was going to allow you to date her, it would be different than dating Wanda. You worked with her, you were technically her superior. If it ended as badly, it could affect the work dynamic. But you couldn’t think like that. You had to take it one step at a time.

“Hi,” Wanda stepped in front of you. She changed out of her wedding dress and into a shorter one. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you all night.”

“Must be hard being the woman of the hour,” you took a sip of your drink and locked eyes with Yelena over Wanda’s shoulder. You gave her a reassuring smile. Wanda chuckled, sipping on her drink. It wasn’t her normal cocktail, which was strange unless being with Vision changed her that much.

“Do you have a minute to talk?” You didn’t but you nodded. She led you to a balcony, and your surprise there was no one out there. She leaned her back against the metal railing. Her hands were on her stomach, playing with the wedding ring. It hit you. The drink wasn’t alcoholic, her hands on her stomach. You took a sip of your drink.

“Your pregnant,” you said. She almost dropped her glass.

“How did-” she cut herself off with a laugh. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.” You moved to stand next to her. “It was impossible to keep things from you.” ‘I guess you found a way,’ you wanted to say but you bite your tongue.

“How long?”

“2 months,” That was why they got together so quickly. That was why the engagement came out of nowhere. She cheated on you. Your stomach dropped. “Y/n-” she went to touch your arm but you jerked away from her.

“Don’t,” you hissed. “Don’t try to justify your cheating on me.” Oh, Sarah was going to have a field day with this. You took a deep breath in and slowly let it out, trying to keep your emotions at bay. “Are you happy?” It took a moment for her to reply.

“I am,” you nodded.

“Then go be happy with Vision and I’ll be happy with someone else. Have a nice life.” You turned to leave.

“With Yelena,” you didn’t like how she said her name. A hint of dislike and jealousy. When you faced her she was already looking at you. That same look was in her eyes that night in the lobby. She was jealous and possessive. Oh, it was comical.

“Don’t say her name like that,” you said, closing the gap between you and your ex. “Do you want to know the difference between me and you? You moved on while we were still together and didn’t have the guts to call it off because you slept with someone else. You have no right to be jealous over something you have no claim to. See around Wanda,” You waved over your shoulder as you walked back into the party. Drowning the rest of your drink, you saw that Yelena was still talking to Kate but America joined them. You through your cup away and walked over to the trio. You placed your hand on Yelena’s back as you approached them. The blonde looked at you, smiling. “Mind if I burrow her?” Kate and America smirked at each other.

“She’s all yours,” you thank them and moved your hand into hers, leading her out of the party. She squeezed your hand every few seconds, singling she was still with you. Finally, you stepped outside.

“I was going to give you 5 more minutes with her before I went and saved you,” you smiled, bringing her closer to you. She set her drink on the table. God, she was gorgeous. The lights danced in her green eyes.

“Can I kiss you?” You asked the urge was becoming too strong to ignore.

“Please,” she whispered. You connected your lips with hers without a moment’s hesitation. Her arms wrapped around your neck, pulling you closer to her. You felt her smile against your lips. Soon you pulled away but you kept her close, feeling her breath against your lips and her heartbeat racing. “I’m sorry about Wanda.” The mention of your ex snapped you out of your haze.

“Did you know?” She looked away, glancing at the reception through the window. But you gently placed a finger underneath her chin to look at you.

“I did but I’m not even sure if Natasha and Tony know and I thought she told you,” she was working herself into a panic attack. You brushed your nose against hers and captured her lips in a quick kiss. She calmed down. “I caught them at the office. It was late like so fucking late,” you chuckled. “I wasn’t sure what the hell I stumbled on. I think you were with Tony on a business trip to Japan,” you remembered that trip. You didn’t want to go as you and Wanda were planning on going to visit her family. “I’m sorry.” You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or her being so close, you weren’t sure why she was apologizing. But that brain power was for the future, sober you to figure out.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” that much you knew. You didn’t blame her. “We’re okay.” She let out a sigh. “Do you want to get out of here?” A playful smirk formed on her lips.

“I’ve been waiting all night for you to ask.”

*

Wanda stood in her kitchen, listening to her twins playing with their toys with the TV on with the latest episode of Bluey, as she flipped through the mail. A majority of it was junk mail; magazines she didn’t remember signing up for or ads trying to get her to buy something. Her fingers stopped on an envelope addressed to her and Vision written in beautiful writing. She ripped it open and stared at the invitation, ‘You are invited to the wedding of Yelena and Y/n, with a reception to follow.’

_

Part 2

[sugrhigh]

BOY NEXT DOOR - ( c.s )

part two

summary- you and your roommates live beside a bunch of senior hockey players, one of them being the infamous team captain chris sturniolo. he’s effortlessly flirty and undeniably attractive, but he’s also a pain in your ass. you find that you have to fight between lust and hatred as you finally get to know the boy next door, whether you want to or not.

warnings- swearing, drinking, no smut (yet 😁)

neighbor/hockey!chris x fem!reader

a/n: WELCOME TO MY FIRST REAL SERIES! i have a lot of ideas for this cuz i love this trope dearly so buckle up! more parts will come soon. also working on a tattooartist!reader x matt series (thank you anons) that will also be out eventually. in the mean time if you have smaller/specific reqs you’d like to see, my inbox is open babies! and if u just wanna say hello or ask a question i’m here xoxo

the music booms over the speakers inside the house next door, just like it always does on the weekends (and occasionally on thursdays too). it always drives you up a wall, but tonight it’s particularly bad.

you sit up slightly in bed, absentmindedly wondering who the fuck is on aux. you’re not sure why the thought crosses your mind, but you know it’s not chris, because these picks are horrendous.

it’s already past two in the morning, not to mention it’s the middle of the week. you haven’t been able to get a wink of rest, even with your headphones blaring at full volume. usually they do the trick, but tonight’s party is relentless, demanding to be heard.

wine wednesday, you think to yourself sourly.

neither of your roommates are home; they’re both off with their significant others, somewhere that’s not here, listening to fuckface and his friends get drunk.

you’re usually pretty passive about the noise, because they provide free alcohol for you guys when you show up and typically give you notice that they’re throwing something.

but tonight it’s just too fucking much. you’re tired, and groggy, and very much so still in your silky pajama bottoms and oversized t-shirt, but you don’t give a shit.

you jam your feet into some sneakers and grab a jacket, clutching it close to your chest as you head down the stairs to the main level of your own house.

you pass the dark living room, shadows leering in the corners as you’re guided only by the light coming from the street lamps outside.

you step onto the porch and the cold smacks you in the face, breath fogging up the air. it’s the middle of january in boston, and the expanse of dead grass between your houses crunches under your feet as you tread toward the front door.

the rest of the street is quiet, aside from the party. but they’re all senior hockey players, and it’s the beginning of their last semester, so what else can you expect?

besides maybe some basic human decency every once in a while. in fact, you’re so frustrated that you’re going in without backup, and without a real plan of any kind.

for some reason, once you get up the three steps to their door, you pause to knock. as if anyone would hear you over the music, or care enough to open the door for someone who’s fucking knocking.

so you twist the handle next, and it’s unlocked. of course.

it opens to a hazey front hallway that you recognize, stairs to the left hand side, blocked off by a young-looking guy you assume is probably a freshman on duty.

the front area is full of people, pressed against the walls, chatting over the music. well, more like yelling over it.

you can smell weed, which confuses you slightly. you know none of them smoke, not during the season at least. they usually don’t let anyone do it inside the house, so it must be an allowance for a girl.

you’re already getting strange looks as you step inside, which is fair. your shorts are hidden by the length of your shirt and jacket, so you’re just legs and shoes. you’ve got no makeup on, and you didn’t check your hair before you came.

but you swallow the lump in your throat, because it doesn’t matter right now anyways.

you shift your way through the crowd, gaze skipping over the people as you finally reach the dark living room. multi-colored strobes flash, lighting up the hoards of tipsy college kids dancing on the soaked wooden floor. furniture is pushed aside to make room, though the championship banner from last year still hangs on the wall.

his eyes find you before yours find him.

he stares at you across the tops of people's heads, standing by one of the couches that’s shoved against the wall. one of his roommates, connor, is leaned back on the cushions, watching the two girls they were talking to pass a joint back and forth.

but he’s no longer focused on anyone else, because he’s spotted you across the room, and he thinks this is the most disheveled he’s ever seen you. your angry eyes lock in on him seconds later, and they narrow instantly.

you beeline toward him, right through a group of people that are half-dancing along to the terrible playlist.

he lifts his eyebrows at your attitude, but not in fear. he’s actually a little impressed. his friends are watching you warily, just as confused as everyone else who saw you walk in.

he can’t help but stare at your legs as you finally reach him, admiring how cute you look in your pajamas, pale pink bottoms peeking out underneath your shirt with every step. he briefly wonders if you’re even wearing a bra.

then you open your mouth, and the fantasy is over.

“what time is it, chris?” you snap at him, one hand balled into a fist, the other clutching your phone.

“i don’t know, but i have a feeling you’re going to tell me.” he takes a sip of his drink to try and hide his grin.

it takes a lot of self control to keep yourself from slapping it out of his fucking hand, just because of how smug he looks. you hold up the screen to his face.

two twenty-two in the morning. chris almost laughs.

“the answer is way too fucking late to be having a party on a wednesday.” you reply, bringing the device back down to rest by your thigh.

“why didn’t you come? i missed you.” he pouts.

you glance over at the people on the couch, at the girls who are still making eyes at you as they converse with connor. he’s giving you a weird look too, as if no one could possibly understand why you’re here like this.

“yeah, sure you did,” you turn back to him, “now shut this shit down before i call the cops.”

chris puts his hands up in surrender, though he knows this is an empty threat just as much as you do.

“wow, somebody’s grumpy.”

you roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest self-consciously. “i’m serious. tell the puck bunnies to go home for the night or i’ll do it myself.”

he takes a tiny step closer, just a few inches, and yet it still seems suffocating. he looks too good, clad in a simple black tee and jeans, and he’s studying your face with the fire of a thousand suns.

“you don’t have to be jealous because other girls are here. you know you’re my number one.” chris replies easily.

even though his tone remains light, his expression is serious now. it enrages you more, that he thinks he has so much control over you.

“as if i give a fuck. i just want to sleep, so the choice is yours. police,” you wave the hand that holds your phone slightly, “or call it off.”

chris takes another sip of his drink, tipping it back so he can finish the rest of it in one foul swoop. then he nods his head, like he’s admitting defeat.

“fine. i’ll send everyone home.”

you can feel the relief creeping over you, knowing that you don’t have to actually get law enforcement involved. “thank yo—”

“on one condition.” he interrupts, and you furrow your brows.

“no conditions, chris. we’re not bartering right now.”

“come to the game on friday and we can hang out after for a bit. i’ll even give you a practice jersey to wear.” he offers, and the trademark smirk has reappeared on his face.

lights dance across his features, morphing his expression every few seconds. you just stare, because for once, you’re actually not sure what game he’s playing.

“what, can’t get a date without having to resort to blackmail?” you taunt, and he laughs.

“please, i don’t date. and i’d hardly consider this blackmail. just think of it as getting to know your friendly neighbor on a more personal level.”

there’s a humorous glint in his eye, one that’s daring you to say yes. what’s there to be afraid of? all you have to do is watch hockey, eat some popcorn from the concession stand, and deal with his attitude for an hour afterwards.

you’re still not sure what chris is getting out of this, or why he’s insisting that you need to be there, but at this point you don’t care. all you can think about is salvaging the rest of your sleep.

“alright, fine. now you have five minutes to get everyone out, and i better not hear any more shitty remixes for the rest of the week.” you point an accusatory finger at him and he shrugs, though he’s clearly content that you caved in.

“your wish is my command, princess.”

you turn on your heel to head back outside, retracing your steps from earlier as you slip through the mob. you half expect chris to follow, just because he’s annoying, but he doesn’t.

the overhead lights are coming back on now, and you can hear deep voices shouting, combined with collective groans from the crowd as they all realize they’re being kicked out.

luckily you make it out the front door first, and you jog back up the steps to your own place to get out of the cold.

you’ve only been inside for seconds when your phone buzzes in your hand.

chris

see you friday

sweet dreams ;)

[g-hughes]

Bite Me - Q. Hughes

hockey masterlist | g's graduation celly

synopsis: When one of Quinn's teammates asks if their sister could stay with him to bounce back after a break-up, Quinn said yes. But six months later, Quinn feels like he has met his matched. Or when Quinn Hughes falls for his roommate, who happens to be his teammate's sister.

word count: 2.3k

warnings: smut mentioned! friends with benefits situation, Boeser!Reader, nudity, cursing.

Quinn Hughes thought of himself as being a “good guy”. He held doors open for people, swapped seats on airlines when asked, donated money to various charities, and spent time, when he could, coaching the Canucks Youth Team. He was a good guy and an even better teammate and captain.

He prided himself on being the one on the team the guys could go to when they needed advice or just someone to sit and listen to them rant. He would give his teammate the shirt off his back if one of them asked. So when Brock Boeser, Quinn’s best friend, asked if his younger sister could crash with him for a few days, Quinn said yes without even really thinking it through. 

“It’ll be a few days,” Brock assured Quinn as he brought in one of her suitcases, “Her dick head ex cheated on her and threw all her shit in the driveway. She was gonna spring for a hotel, but I couldn’t let her do that. I’d let her stay at mine, but we’re remod-” 

“Don’t worry about it, man,” Quinn assured his winger, “I know you’d do the same if it was one of my brother’s. She can crash here as long as she needs.” 

“She swears it’ll only be a few days.” 

But a few days turned into a few weeks, and a few weeks into a few months. Now it's been six months and Y/N Boeser has become Quinn’s official unofficial roommate. And he hated it. 

Quinn didn’t want a roommate, nor did he need one. He actually loved coming home to a quiet apartment after weeks on the road. He liked the solitude of being able to hide away from the cameras and the press in his face and following his every move. He liked to be able to walk around damn near naked and not have to worry about being walked in on. But having a roommate, all those privileges had been taken away. 

“Quintin! You parked in my fucking spot!” Y/N yelled as she slammed the front door shut. Quinn smirked to himself, as he finished mixing around the vegetables in the pan. He knew exactly what he did and he knew it was going to piss you off. Quinn had two parking spots, one for himself and one for a guest (which had become Y/N as of late), and he decided that tonight, he was going to forget his driver’s ed training and park in the middle of the two spots. 

“Quintin,” Y/N groaned, coming into the kitchen, setting down her bags from work. Quinn looked over his shoulder, trying his hardest to fight the urge to stare at your breasts. 

Yes, Quinn hated having a roommate, but it did come with its own perks. Such as, his roommate was very, very attractive. 

“Oh hey sweetheart,” Quinn smirked, “Did I miss something?” 

Y/N narrowed her eyes at him, crossing her arms across her chest, pushing her tits up even more in the tight tanktop she was wearing, “You know what you fucking did, you parking in the middle of the spots again!” 

"Oh, I did?" He feigned innocence, "Well, maybe if you didn't leave all your damn shoes by the fucking door!"

"It was one pair! One pair, Quintin!"

"Quit calling me Quintin!"

Y/N groaned and grabbed her bag, stomping her way out of the kitchen. Quinn turned back towards the dinner he was cooking, his mood sour. He had such a good day too. Practice went smoothly, Toch only yelled at them for an hour instead of two. Things were finally starting to take a turn after a losing streak that put everyone on edge. Quinn felt the weight of the world on his shoulders, his first season as captain after a disappointing season. He had to prove himself, he had to prove that he was worthy of the captain spot. 

Oh, and waking up with Y/N’s mouth wrapped around his cock was an added bonus. 

Quinn hated to admit it out loud, it made him feel dirty and wrong about it, but there was nothing dirty and wrong about it. It seemed to have happened naturally, the tension between them building since the moment Quinn first saw Y/N. He had done his best to ignore her for the first week she was occupying his guest room. She had just been broken up with in a horrible way, and was trying to pick up the pieces of a shattered years-long relationship. But then she started to come out of her room, and she was like a storm, Quinn had no idea how to brace for. 

She was sassy, and smart, and beautiful, and stubborn, and messy, and so fucking sexy when she was pissed off about something work or at Quinn for parking over the line of his parking spot. 

It was bound to happen, the tension and animosity growing between them as the days went by. It turned into more than Quinn bitching about the shoes by the front door, which he had repeatedly told her to stop leaving them there. It turned into her bitching at Quinn for leaving dirty plates in the sink. Then it was Quinn bitching about how she would take the full garbage bag out of the can and leave it by the front door (in her defense, the dumpster was in the alley behind the building and Quinn didn’t feel very comfortable with her taking it out late at night). Then it was Y/N bitching about Quinn leaving his travel bag, unpacked, in the laundry room between roadies. 

The final straw for both of them was when they both came home, unsatisfied in different ways. Quinn had come home from a long roadie, the majority of them being losses. All he wanted to do was take a bath and relax and regroup for the next series ahead. Y/N, had come home from yet another shitty date. She insisted that her date didn’t need to walk her to the door, but he wanted to make sure she got in safely, or so he said. Quinn could hear her fake laughter from the other side of the door, as he stood at the kitchen counter, waiting for the tea kettle to whistle. 

“I had a good time,” She said, “Thanks for walking me back.” 

“No problem,” A male’s voice sounded out, “Ya know. . . this doesn’t have to end here.” 

Quinn grimaced. It didn’t take a genius to know that Y/N wasn’t interested. 

“I uh. . . I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Quinn could almost picture her nervously pushing her hair behind her ear, “I’ll give you a call.” 

“C’mon,” The guy was sounding desperate, “We both want to end the night right.” 

It was silent for a moment, and for some odd reason, anger flowed through Quinn’s body. Was the guy kissing her? Was she seriously considering letting him in? Quinn had never brought it up, but he assumed that Y/N wasn’t having people over. Not that she couldn’t, he guessed, it was her place too. But for some reason, the idea of her having a man in her bed pissed him off. 

“You’re right,” Y/N sighed. Quinn’s body seemed to move on it’s own accord as he walked over to the front door, his hand wrapping around the knob, “I better go see if my vibrator is charged. Night, Marcus!” 

Quinn jumped back startled as the front door was pushed open and Y/N charged in. He could see the confused face of the man, Marcus, behind the door as it slammed in his face. Y/N groaned as she kicked off her shoes and tossed her purse on the couch. Quinn wanted so badly to make a comment about her shoes, but instead he said;

“You have a vibrator?” 

Y/N looked at him, one eyebrow raised, “I am not a 16 year old. Of course I have a vibrator. Almost every woman has one.” 

“You use it?” 

“Yes, perv,” Y/N scoffed, and reached for her purse, “Boe said you were quiet, but I didn’t know quiet meant stalker. Night.” 

Quinn blinked several times as she walked down towards her room. His mind, again, thinking of other things to say, like apologizing for asking her such a vulnerable question, but instead, once again he blurted the wrong thing. 

“I don’t want you having sex in my house.” 

Y/N paused in her walk, holding still for a moment and turning around to face him, “Excuse me?” 

“I don’t want you having sex in my house,” Quinn stood firm on what he said, even though he regretted it the second he said it. Even though her name wasn’t on the lease, she was still living and paying rent (Quinn told her several times her money was useless, but she cried and told him she had to contribute somehow). 

“I am not.” 

“Good.” 

“Good?” 

“Mhm,” Quinn nodded. It was silent again as the two of them stared each other down, tension thick in the air like smoke. 

“Need anything else?” Y/N asked, breaking the silence. She folded her arms under her chest, pushing her breasts up in the tight black dress she was wearing. Quinn gulped, taking in her appearance; short, tight black dress, black leather jacket, black heels that made her legs look like they went on for miles. Her hair was pulled back in a sleek ponytail, a dainty good chain around her neck. Quinn gulped, thinking and praying of anything that would keep the blood from rushing south. 

“Nope,” He shook his head. 

“Good,” Y/N responded, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to end my night right.” Quinn felt his boxers grow tighter as she turned on her heel, and walked down to her door. She stopped just before going inside her room, “Ya know, a gentleman would ask if I need help.” 

Quinn watched as her eyes seemed to turn a shade darker and looked him over from head to toe. In two quick strides, Quinn was pushing her against her door, his lips on hers. Her hands were in his hair, pulling on the locks she told him not to cut. His hands roamed her body, pulling her as close to him as she could possibly get. He shamelessly rutted her hips against her, his cock begging for release from his pants. 

“If I fuck you, will you stop leaving your shoes by the door?” Quinn mumbled, his lips leaving a trail of searing hot kisses on her skin. 

“If you do a good job, I might consider it.” 

From that night, their friends with benefits relationship blossomed. One would think with the among of orgasms they gave each other, that the animosity would be nearly nonexistent. But it only seemed to up the ante between them. The fights were louder, the pranks were almost near nuclear, and the sex. . . the sex was downright rough and dirty. It almost became part of Quinn’s pregame ritual, to fuck Y/N or jerk off to a video of her. 

Y/N clenched her jaw as she threw her dirty work clothes into the hamper, getting ready to shower the day off. She grabbed her speaker, making sure to turn it up loud enough to annoy Quinn down in the kitchen. He hated her taste in music, and she was well aware of it, always taking the aux cord from her when they would drive to Roger’s. Quinn also liked to eat his dinner in silence, claiming it was one of the only times of his day he had to himself. 

Smiling, she turned on Taylor Swift, letting the bass hit her ears as she stepped into the hot stream of her shower. 

Quinn was mid bite when the all too familiar intro to “SLUT!” started playing. He groaned, slamming his fork down, “One dinner. One fucking dinner in peace.” He pushed his chair away, storming down the hallway towards Y/N’s room. He wasn’t surprised to find her bedroom door unlocked, almost as if she was expecting him. He was about to push the door open, when he heard another all too familiar sound coming from the other side, the blood in his body rushing south. He smirked, imagining how deep her fingers were inside of her to get that kind of reaction. 

Quinn could tell she was getting close by the way her moans got higher pitched. He knew now was the time to strike. Pushing the door open, he walked right over to her shower and yanked back the curtain. 

“Quintin!” Y/N squealed, pulling her hands away from her core and covering her chest, “What the fuck!?” 

"Don't be shy, sweetheart," He smirked, looking up and down her soaking wet body. He licked his lips, and she scoffed, turning away from him, "Oh come on, it's not like I haven't seen it before. Turn back around, lemme see the girls again."

"Oh bite me, Hughes!" Y/N turned the shower head towards him, affectively soaking him. Quinn turned his body away from the water stream that was not only soaking his t-shirt and shorts, but the floor. 

"No," Quinn grunted and grabbed the shower head, turning it back towards her, "You'd enjoy it too much."

Y/N looked over at him, "You're all wet."

"That makes two of us now, huh," Quinn shot her that megawatt smile. Y/N rolled her eyes and snatched the shower curtain from his hand.

"You just lost your invite!"

my requests are open!! :)

[wileys-russo]

leah being described as strict gave me a thought:

imagine dating her (the team knows) and since she’s captain and takes her role very serious, you get into trouble for not listening and talking to someone else on the team while you’re supposed to be doing drills and she makes you do a few extra drills which you’re obviously not happy about

so after trainings done and you’re at home with her you refuse to hold her hand or let her hug you and say that you’re too sore from the extra drills she made you do which Leah does not appreciate and it ends with her just grabbing you anyway until you give in since you secretly wanted to hug her and were just throwing a little tantrum

thank you if you do write it 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

drill sergeant II l.williamson

"ky there is literally no way thats possible." you scoffed with a shake of your head, sat in your cubby next to hers as the girl was avidly recounting how she built a house of cards last night using 101 cards.

"ask teyah!" kyra nodded as her eyes searched the room for her blonde roommate. "she's already doing her program in the gym." alessia chuckled on your other side, also doubtful of the young australians tall tale.

"i did do it, i'm being serious swear!" kyra whined with an annoyed huff as both you and alessia shared a look. "well its like the little boy who cried wolf. maybe if you lied less we'd be more inclined to believe you!" you grinned as clapping sounded.

"get movin girls! pitch in two minutes or its a fine and laps." your girlfriend shouted, clapping her hands as there was a thunder of cleats clicking against the floor as you and alessia scrambled to tug your own boots on, kyra darting off.

"if we get laps because of her big mouth-" the blonde striker huffed, standing to her feet having gotten her laceless boots on in milliseconds as you hurried to tie your own laces.

"relax lessi! i've got the girlfriend card to play and you get protection as the best friend of the girlfriend." you grinned, jumping up and slinging an arm over her shouder.

"future maid of honour of the girlfriend!" alessia reminded with a wag of her finger as you pushed her hand away with a grin and both beelined it out of the change rooms.

unfortunately for you two you were the last to the pitch, and with kimmy out with a flare up in an old hamstring injury it left leah to run the pack beneath jonas who would be a little late this morning due to a meeting.

"right you two. thats a ten pound fine and a lap then stretch, if you're not back in five its another!" leah barely glanced at the two of you as alessia groaned loudly and you stared at your girlfriend in disbelief.

"clocks started girls, move it!" she called seriously over her shoulder as alessia sighed in defeat and started to run, you eventually following after her as leah continued to ignore your looks sent her way as she focused on warm ups.

"so about that girlfriend card?" alessia shot you an unimpressed look as you rolled your eyes. "declined!" you huffed, the two of you falling into a comfortable silence as you saved your breath and jogged the pitch.

it appeared you'd returned just in time as leah sent you both a nod and gestured for the pair of you to stretch, turning her back to converse with kelly who'd just arrived to help out. kyra sent the two of you a guilty smile as alessia's blue eyes shot daggers her way and you couldn't help but smile.

"leave her be she didn't mean any harm less." you chuckled, knocking your shoulder into alessia but a little harder than intended, and given your best friend was horizontally challenged she was sent tumbling to the ground accidentally taking frida down with her who in turn grabbed onto lia who joined the small pile up.

"oi! whats going on?" leah was there within seconds with a scowl as laughter errupted from the team and the three girls helped one another up, alessia's face burning bright red as she shoved you.

"you two, lap again! grow up." leah scolded, returning back to kellys side as your jaw dropped. "for fuck sakes." you grumbled under your breath, alessia sprinting off this time as you jogged, making sure to send your girlfriend a look which she seemingly stared right through as if you weren't there.

that made you frown, then lost in your own thoughts you hadn't realised alessia had long finished, choosing to sprint it to get it over with faster as by the time you returned everyone had already paired off for drills.

which of course, left you with leah.

"next time you dawdle its sit ups, come on." the blonde nodded, tapping a ball your way as you mocked her under your breath but followed, the two of you completing the drill in silence.

normally the taller girl would be talking your ear off as she had been ever since she was able to touch grass again, elated to finally be back with the team.

you weren't sure where the disconnect had grown from, as she was her usual self all morning, in the car ride over here and at team breakfast. yet here she was barely able to look at you without shaking her head in annoyance and it begun to grate at you.

things seemed to worsen throughout the session as time after time leah would use you as an example for simple comments or mistimed mistakes which would normally be overlooked or a warning.

it wasn't just you who would be punished, a lot of the girls settled into their own extra drills with a sigh as they were called out for slacking off or chatting, but it felt personal as it seemed leahs eyes were constantly watching and waiting for you to slip up.

you tried your very best to take them on the chin and tell yourself she was just doing her job as stand in captain, you knew she'd been nervous at taking back the mantle up with having had so much time off due to her injury, but you'd had weeks of training with her now without any issues.

"oi! did i say run your legs or run your mouths? 30 push ups, the pair of you!" leah yelled as kyra jabbed her fingers into your sides making you laugh loudly and tell her off, your face falling as kyra sighed and dropped to her stomach.

"leah she just poked me, thats hardly a contact violation or a reason to punish either of us. lay off would you!" you rolled your eyes, having had enough of the little comments and gestured for kyra to stand up, the australian looking nervously between you and leah.

"no kyra keep going. you too, drop!" leah warned crossing her arms over her chest and staring you down as the two of you locked eyes unwavering. but with a few murmured warnings to let it go from your teammates and you dropped, grumbling angrily under your breath as you went.

by the time you'd finished it was time for a round robin of games, something leah thankfully would only be a participant in as jonas and the coaching staff took the reigns.

focusing in on the game you tried to use it to let out the last of the frustration toward your girlfriend which was bubbling just below the surface, pushing hard as you could to score which paid off.

"get in, super boot strikes again!" you couldn't help but grin as beth jumped onto your back as your team won their final game, jogging around and twirling her for a moment before placing her back down on her feet.

training called for the day you ignored the smile sent your way by leah as she approached you, turning on your heel and hurrying to wedge yourself inbetween lotte and alessia, slinging your arms over their shoulders.

"lift me!" you demanded hanging off of them and causing all three of you to slam down into the ground, a tangle of sweaty limbs and laughter as you all peeled yourself off one another. "you do that every time and every time you never learn it doesn't work!" lotte groaned rubbing her neck as the three of you wandered into the change rooms.

"or the two of you need to learn how to lift me!" you grinned latching on and swinging between them as again all three of you tumbled to the ground.

"you are the worst." alessia groaned causing you to reach out and smack her, lotte standing with an amused roll of her eyes as the pair of you rolled around for a minute, the other girls stepping over you as if you both weren't there.

"practicing your wrestling are we babe? wrong sport i think." you looked up to meet leahs eyes and let go of alessia, standing to your feet and brushing the dust off your training uniform, choosing not to make a comment and striding over to your cubby.

your girlfriend gave you a strange look but just put it down to you being tired, waiting patiently for you to shower and change. "ready?" the blonde asked with a smile, sat at your locker and twirling her keys around her finger.

you blanked her once again, reaching past her to grab your bag, accidentally smacking her in the head with it as you turned and strode out of the change rooms. rubbing her head with a frown leah looked at alessia for help who held her hands up mumbling she wasn't getting involved before leah hurried after you.

you must have sprinted your way out of colney because she didn't catch you until she arrived at her car where you stood waiting, arms crossed and sunglasses covering your eyes. normally you'd wait for her to open the door for you, rewarding her with a kiss and a joke about chivarly.

but the moment leah unlocked her car you were sat right inside, tossing your bag on the backseat and shrinking away from her, pushing her hand away as it rested on your thigh as normal.

"alright whats wrong? why are you being like this?" leah scowled in confusion and annoyance at your dismissive behavior. much to her continued frustration you ignored her, busying yourself with your phone as leah sighed and shook her head, driving off none the less.

every attempt at conversation ignored leah gave up, drowned out by your continued turning up of the radio as you stared out the window.

finally arriving back to your shared home you were just as fast to exit the car as enter, grabbing your bag and wrestling your keys out, letting yourself in as leah followed behind.

"right, thats it!" the blonde huffed as you slung the door shut in her face, yanking it open and storming in after you. "whats up your ass then?" leah snatched the remote from you and held it out of reach, raising an eyebrow clearly expecting a response.

when she didn't get one, the anger faded.

"babe!" leah whined, throwing her head back with a groan. "i miss you, gimme a cuddle cmon." leah flopped herself basically on top of you as you pushed her off and tucked your limbs into your body.

"baby!' leah groaned again, trying to yank your arms open to settle into them. "sorry i'm a bit tired from the laps and the sit ups and the sprints and push ups the stand in gaffa had me doing for no reason!" you finally snapped, shooting her a glare and scooting your body away from hers.

realizing now why you were behaving this way leahs lips curled into a smile which only furthered your infatuation with her. "stop giving me that stupid fucking smirk before i smack it off your face!" you warned, leahs grin growing as she raised her eyebrows as if to challenge you to even try.

"oh babe, you cannot seriously be mad at me over that?" leah chuckled, scooting her body closer as you tried to expand the distance but having reached the end of the sofa you were stuck.

"over that? leah you singled me out, picked on me and didn't get off my ass the entire session, and for the most stupid shit!" you seethed, your girlfriend grabbing your legs and tugging them into her lap.

"you were mucking about love and you had plenty of warnings." leah smiled, fingers tracing lines up and down your calves as you huffed and stared away from her. "didn't we long ago make an agreement about not letting our relationship affect us on the pitch?" the blonde continued.

"whats that got to do with anything?" "well, it would mean that i don't give you any special treatment." "the way you singled me out today sure felt like special treatment!"

"baby-" you didn't give her the chance to finish, kicking her hands away and swinging yourself to your feet, thumping off to the kitchen. "oi, stop running away before you let me finish." leah followed after you, watching as you rummaged through the fridge still ignoring her.

"if i give you special treatment and let you get away with-" once again you didn't let her finish, ducking under her arm and returning to the living room, flicking on the tv and shoving the remote into your pocket.

it was only a few seconds before the grinning blonde blocked your view, staring down at you as you met her eyeline with a glare and averted your eyes.

"if i treat you any differently than the other girls just because we're together, i'd be a bad captain. its the same at england camps and i've never once heard you complain!" leah continued as you stayed silent once more.

you were surprised as she seemingly gave in and sat down beside you, though of course that was a generous assumption as instead your girlfriend switched tactics to gain your attention.

"fuck off." you mumbled after her foot dug into your hip for the fifth time, shoving her legs aggressively away from you making the defender smirk. "no, give me attention." leahs legs swung repeatedly into your lap as you continued to push them off.

as time passed by without leah having any success her amused smile melted into a frown of frustration. "fine, you leave me no choice!" leah suddenly stood and before you could even blink her hands were wedging under your arms and tossing you over her shoulder.

"leah put me down!" you smacked her back with your hands as she carried you upstairs with ease. "stop ignoring me, you're bein childish." leah threw you down onto the bed, crawling on top of you before you could move.

"i'm being childish!" you scoffed in disbelief with a roll of your eyes. "glad you agree babe." leah grinned as you shot her a glare. "now since we're home and captain williamson is still at colney, how about your girlfriend gives your poor tired legs a massage?" leah smiled, propping her head up on her hand.

"its a massive turn off to hear you talk about yourself in the third person." "leah disagrees."

you tried to hold back a smile at that but you cracked, the corners of your mouth curling upward. "leah see's that little smile, can't hide from her." your girlfriend beamed, kissing all over your face as you gave in with a sigh, unable to really be mad at her anymore when she was her normal charmingly sweet self.

"girlfriend leah is still very happy to give you a massage baby girl." "stop!" you gave a half groan half laugh at her repeated use of her own name.

"i'll take the massage though, least you can do after picking on me all day." you frowned, pouting your lips upward as your girlfriend who knew you all too well ducked down to press her own against them for a moment.

"my poor baby, picked on by her big bad mean captain." the blonde cooed mockingly once she'd pulled away, squeezing your cheeks between her hand.

"yeah she's awful, so stern and rigid and uptight. sort of miss when she was sidelined and her coaching wasn't so hands on!" you sighed, squealing as leahs slender fingers dug into your ribs for the comment.

"oh i'll show you just how hands on i can really be my girl."

[a-small-writer-in-a-big-world]

Home is Whenever I’m With You

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x f!reader

Warnings: some angst, fluff, smut (18+) mdni, handjob, oral (m!receiving), sub!Ghost, sleepy sex? Ghost finishes early

Words: 11.7k

Synopsis: Simon is finally home and a few things need to be taken care of…

Link to The Roommate Series Masterlist

You are currently reading part 6 of The Roommate Series

Simon’s eyes fluttered open when there was a knock at the front door of the flat and he was met with you sleeping just inches from him, a sight that was incredibly unfamiliar to him but he had never felt more grateful for. He could’ve fallen back to sleep, he had never felt more comfortable laying in his bed than he did right now, especially as he listened to your soft breathing. He would’ve if he wasn’t so enamored by how much he liked the way you looked across from him.

He had seen you asleep before but this was something else entirely. You were asleep in his bed, you were asleep next to him in his arms as if this were something normal, as if the both of you had done this before.

You were deep in sleep, not moving an inch except for your breathing, and yet you still held onto him with the same comforting warmth you gave him earlier this morning.

You. It’s all he could think about now and last night, it was everything he had missed for three months on base and in the battlefield. You had been stuck on his mind practically the entire time he was gone, he had dreamt about this moment so many times and had hoped that once he was home he could have you fall asleep on him just like you had before he left.

Of course, that had been before he had been injured.

Simon stared at your face and noticed your puffy eyes. A small pit formed in his stomach as he was reminded of how upset you had been and his face fell. He pulled an arm away from you and dared to rest his hand on your cheek, holding his breath as he waited for you to stir. When you didn’t, he very softly, as if he weren’t touching you at all, ran his thumb across your skin.

He had never seen you cry so much. He’d seen you cry over university but this had been entirely different, this had been something that he wasn’t used to and it made his chest ache the more he remembered the panic in your eyes.

You had been crying because of him, for him.

No one had ever cried for him before and he wasn’t sure why he hadn’t expected it when he had run home to the one person he knew who wasn’t familiar with the wounds he’s gotten from the military. He didn’t want you to cry for him or because of him but unfortunately the damage was already done.

He had hurt you, intentionally or not, by coming home before he was properly patched up. He had been so desperate to see you one more time, thinking in his delirious state that it was going to be the last, that he had hurt you.

Not only that, he had ruined the separation between you and his other life that you should never come into contact with.

You saw his dog tags, which was bad enough considering it was impossible to come up with a lie as to why he had them around his neck, but worst of all you had seen the mask.

The one that enemies saw when they were about to die, the one that was covered in blood, the one that haunted the nightmares of those who managed to escape but not for long. The one that kept him strong and hid everything that was Simon, that was the reminder that Simon Riley is in fact dead to everyone but you or his team.

You had glimpsed the image of Ghost. Simon would run away if he had the chance.

He’d run because you didn’t need that in your life, you didn’t need the hardened, cold blooded killer who would do anything to get the job done, who you would probably look at with fear and disgust. He didn’t want Ghost to be known by someone who is his life, who was everything to him when the persona was the worst parts of him that should never be seen.

He’d run and hide from you because he knew that if you dug any further into who he is, you’d do it before he could. He didn’t want you to leave him and yet he couldn’t think of a life without you in it.

Especially as you unconsciously leaned into him, your warmth over taking him once more and bringing him out of those dreaded thoughts.

His eyes fluttered shut and he very carefully rested his forehead against yours as if he would be able to read your thoughts, as if he could wiggle his way inside your mind so you could think happily of him in your dreams.

A soft sigh left his chest and he situated himself to go back to sleep. There was no point in getting up when you were right there, holding him like you loved him, and when it hasn’t been more than an hour since the two of you had fallen asleep.

Another knock, louder this time and more demanding made Simon clench his jaw as he was reminded of the intrusion. He glared at his bedroom door and debated on whether or not he should even get up before he decided that he would scare off who it was before they woke you up.

Very carefully he untangled himself from you and watched you like a hawk to make sure that he wouldn’t disturb you.

His entire body was heavy as he attempted to get up. He began to breathe heavier as he felt dizzy once he managed to sit on the edge of the bed. He suffered too much blood loss because he couldn’t have been bothered to stay on base for a few days longer so now he was paying the price for his stubbornness. He should’ve let you take him to the hospital, especially now as he fought against passing out next to you, but he didn’t want you to go through that.

You would’ve been stuck inside the waiting room for who knows how long and the doctors probably wouldn’t have told you anything. He couldn’t put you through more strife than he already has.

Though, as he glanced back at your exhausted face he was sure it wouldn’t have made a difference.

Simon took a few deep breaths and pushed himself off his bed. He stumbled and caught himself on the wall before he fell on the ground. He groaned when a splitting headache hit him almost immediately and he thought about slumping back into bed, but another aggressive knock came from the front door.

You made a noise and he snapped his head back towards you. You rolled and turned your back towards Simon before you went still again, hopefully going back to sleep since you desperately needed it.

He let out a soft huff before he stumbled out of his room with the intention to scare off whoever was banging at his door at such an early time in the morning. He had to walk along the wall as every step felt like he had lead in his feet and he was sure he probably looked half dead, but he didn’t care. He hoped that it would deter the people knocking on his door, especially if it was one of the neighbors he didn’t particularly like.

Simon swung the door open with a glare and his heart stopped.

All three of his teammates were standing in the morning mist outside of his flat. The very place that had been off limits to every single one of them for the past three years, the one place that hadn’t been touched by the other darker part of his life until this very moment.

He stood there frozen in the doorway as his team gave him worried but relieved looks.

“Fuckin’ hell, you’re alive.” Price breathed out and looked him over before he placed a supporting hand on his shoulder.

The contact made Simon jump and he stood up straighter, narrowing his eyes at them as he tried his hardest to get his pounding heart under control. He prayed that you wouldn’t wake up now, he had never wanted you to stay hidden more than this moment as he gripped the door tightly.

“What’re you doing here?” He asked shortly.

“What do ye think?” Soap exclaimed a little too loudly and Simon clenched his jaw. “Ya fuckin’ ran out bleeding like a stuck pig.”

“We had to make sure you were okay and to drag your ass back before you bled out.” Gaz added and crossed his arms with a serious look.

“Let’s get you sorted out, yeah?” Price attempted to wrap an arm around Simon’s shoulder so he could help him to the car but he didn’t budge.

Simon shrugged off the old man’s hand and didn’t look away when his superior’s eyes hardened. He wasn’t one to push Price away often, if at all, and he could tell that his stubbornness wasn’t welcomed, especially since it had been a long trip from the base to his flat.

“M’fine.” Simon gestured to the bandages around him but Price didn’t look convinced.

Rather, he looked incredibly unimpressed as he crossed his arms and gave him a serious look, one that he often used on insubordinate rookies or on one of the sergeants when they decided to dick around for too long. He looked Simon over and licked his lips in deep thought.

He saw right through Simon, he always did. It was like the man had studied him his entire life, he knew everything from his little ticks to the way that he knew Simon would never run out from the base for anything. Nothing else but work was that important to Simon, at least, that’s what he thought he knew.

“You wouldn’t run off like this for no reason.” Price stepped closer to him. “You’ve been acting strange and I want answers.”

Simon thought of a million different lies he could tell him and he was sure that the old man would know that he was lying. Nothing would sound believable, nothing would make leave him the infirmary, half stitched back together and beaten bloody, except for you but you were supposed to be a secret. He was supposed to keep you safe by not saying anything about you.

He opened his mouth to say something, anything to get the heat off his back.

“Simon, what’s going on?” You called out from further in the flat.

Simon’s stomach dropped and his mouth went dry. He wasn’t sure what to do and he suddenly lost his voice as he looked back into the flat to see you rushing into the living room with the same look of fear you had just an hour ago. His eyes softened as he saw just how exhausted you looked in the light of day and if it weren’t for the fact that he could hardly hold himself up, he would’ve carried you back to bed.

You placed a gentle hand on his arm to steady him, your eyes full of worry before you looked at his team.

“Oh…hi.” You weakly greeted them and attempted to give them a welcoming smile.

Price’s eyes softened and he uncrossed his arms as he gave a quick glance towards Simon, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. There was a small smile hidden underneath his beard however as he looked back at you.

Simon wasn’t sure what to do. The cat was out of the bag now and though he wished he could tell his team to forget you and for you to just pretend that you didn’t just see a part of him that he never wanted you to see, he knew that was childish. There was no point in trying to keep up the facade, especially after everything that happened before this moment.

You stepped closer to Simon and gave him an unsure look. He could see what was going on through your mind and how you were putting the pieces together, you were too smart for your own good.

“Sorry to wake you so early.” Price gave you a polite smile as he outstretched his hand for you to take. “Price. Friend of Simon’s.”

“I’m his roommate.” You took his hand with a hesitant smile of your own and introduced yourself.

The gesture seemed to break Soap and Gaz out of their spell, they had been staring between you and Simon with wide but knowing eyes, before they introduced themselves as well. Simon didn’t like the way their faces had lit up either, especially when they gave him smiles that had him wanting to pull you back into the flat.

Truly, he regretted coming back home the way he did.

“I don’t mean to sound rude, but why are you here?” You wondered in a soft voice that couldn’t be mistaken for rudeness even if you tried.

“We came to check up on him.” Price nodded towards the bandages around Simon’s midsection.

You gave Simon an uncertain look as you came into closer contact with his work than you ever had before. You took a few steps back but Simon placed a hand on your lower back to stop you which had you giving him a nervous glance, as if to ask him if it was alright for you to be present, which hurt him a lot more than he wanted it to.

As much as he wanted to keep you a secret, it would be wrong to do it now that his team knew about you. He couldn’t control you or this situation so there was no point in trying to act as if there was a chance to recover from this. In this moment, you didn’t need him to keep secrets, you needed him to be truthful, especially after you patched him up.

“They’re not bad.” He gave you a reassuring look and rubbed his thumb into your back.

“‘Not bad’, he says.” Soap lightly mocked and shook his head. “Worked with ya for over three fucking years and all you can say is ‘not bad’?”

Simon heard you hold back a chuckle and his eyes snapped down to look at your face. He felt some relief when he saw that you had some of the brightness back in your eyes as you watched Soap grumble about Simon being ‘an arsehole’. Just seeing a different expression on your face that wasn’t sadness or fear was enough for him to let go of the fact that you were meeting his team.

“If you don’t mind,” Price caught your attention as he continued to give you a polite smile. “Can we come in so I can check on your roommate?”

You glanced back and Simon did as well, seeing that your eyes were glued to the mess in the living room. You glanced up at him and he knew that you were unsure about letting them see the flat in such a state. However, he shrugged and stepped out of the doorway.

“Sure.” You followed after him, practically gluing yourself to his side as you wrapped a hand around his forearm to steady him.

Simon couldn’t help but rely on you to keep him steady even though he wished he had enough strength to at least pretend he wasn’t in bad shape. It was nearly impossible to fake it when your warmth sunk into his cold skin and practically healed every sore feeling he had stuck inside his muscles. He couldn’t push you away, not that he even would think to, especially when he glanced at you and saw the deep concern that struck him to his core.

A pit formed in his stomach as you helped him sit down on the couch once more, a soft puff escaping his chest.

“Let’s see.” Price stepped over and sat next to Simon before he began to undo his dirty wrappings.

It was splotched with dried blood that got darker the more he took them apart. The giving pressure from his side made his eyes twitch as the throbbing pain came back. It was dull this time but it was just more on top of his exhausted body that had him just wanting to pass out to forget about everything since he went on the mission.

He looked up at you and his heart ached.

You were holding your arms closer to you as you stared intensely at his side as his wound was slowly being revealed. You dug your fingernails into your skin and he could tell that you were taking deep breaths to calm your nerves. The worry across your face made you look even more exhausted as you hovered behind Price as if you were waiting to jump in and help.

“This is a really nice flat.” Gaz spoke up with a calming voice and caught your attention as well as Simon’s. “I know Simon didn’t decorate it.”

“It was a little bare when I moved in.” A small smile tugged at your lips and Simon remembered how empty the flat had been before you.

“No color, right?”

“None.”

Gaz chuckled and you smiled, your attention pulled towards him and not Simon which let him feel some relief. The sergeant glanced his way and gave him a discreet thumbs up that he nodded at, understanding immediately what he was doing and couldn’t help but feel incredibly grateful for his friend.

“How long have you two lived together?” Soap wondered curiously with that wide grin of his.

“Three years.” You explained and both of the sergeants' eyes widened. “I moved because I go to the university near here.”

“Oh, uni! Been to any parties?”

Soon conversation was flowing between the three of you, not exactly too upbeat but it was enough to distract you as Price took the rest of the bandages off. Simon had his attention on you the entire time, feeling a mix of so many emotions as you forgot about him for the time being.

He’d have to pay them back somehow, to show his gratitude.

“Ripped your stitches.” Price grumbled, low enough for just Simon to hear.

Simon glanced over at his captain to see the serious look on his face as he began to clean his wound and start rewrapping it. He uttered an apology that he truly didn’t mean but the captain shook his head as he glanced towards you, a slight twinkle in his eyes.

“S’alright, the pain is punishment enough.” He gave him a quick smile. “Just let me know next time, eh?”

“You weren’t supposed to know.” Simon flinched when he touched a particularly sore spot.

“Sorry, Simon.”

However, the captain looked anything but apologetic, in fact he looked a little too proud of himself for having invaded Simon’s private life. Though, Simon hadn’t given him much of a choice to do so and he blamed the fact that he was bleeding out for not thinking that Price wouldn’t come to find him.

Out of everyone, Simon would’ve told Price first if it came down to it and if this hadn’t happened. The old man was reliable to a fault, he couldn’t think of a time when he had thought he couldn’t trust him, so he knew that if Price had known about you from the very beginning he would’ve done everything in his power to get him back to you as quickly as possible. He was sure he was going to air more on the side of caution when sending him out on missions now.

Price finished bandaging him up and hummed at his handiwork.

“Should get you through until you see a medic.” He gave him a comforting pat to his shoulder and Simon nodded. “Ready to go?”

Simon frowned. He knew that he was going back to base the moment that he laid eyes on Price, but he couldn’t help but wish it wasn’t so soon. He didn’t want to leave you, he didn’t want to be away from you anymore, not after he was finally home after three months of self-imposed mental torture.

He just wanted to be with you and feel alive again. He didn’t want to be Ghost anymore, he just wanted to be Simon.

Despite this, he knew he couldn’t push his luck with his captain. He had already tested his boundaries by running out so asking him to let him stay would be too much. He also needed to be properly patched up or else he was looking at an infection.

Simon nodded and with Price’s help, stood up from the couch. He stood there for a moment as he let the dark spots leave his eyes and ignored the dizziness that came from it before he looked at you.

You looked at him with a worried look still on your face but seemed a lot less tense since Soap and Gaz had distracted you.

“Are you okay?” You asked softly and he found himself at a complete loss of words for a few moments.

It was a simple question, something that was normally asked in these kinds of situations and yet hearing it from you made him want to fall into your arms again. The way you had said it didn’t help either, not when you said as if you were prepared to do anything to help him feel better, as if you were going to wrap him up in a blanket and hold him close to you like you’d done before.

He felt his chest warm at the thought, at the promise of safety and warmth from the one person he loved more than anything and it made leaving so much worse.

“Yeah.” He sighed out after he realized he had been staring at you for a lot longer than normal again.

You offered him a smile but he didn’t return it as Price caught your attention.

“There’s a few things that need to be taken care of.” He began and Simon’s mouth went dry when he saw your face fall. “Simon needs to come with us, but I’ll make sure to have him back before the end of the day.”

Simon wanted to laugh, not because Price was lying, but because he knew that it was incredibly unlikely that would happen. It didn’t matter how efficiently things ran in the task force or on base, everything always ended up taking longer than originally planned in order to cover all bases. He’d be lucky to get back home before the end of tomorrow.

“Okay.” You clenched your jaw and held your arms close to your chest again.

Simon could tell you were fighting back a storm of emotions to make yourself look less miserable but you failed at it. It was easy to tell that you were upset as it was written across your face but you didn’t say anything, you didn’t complain, or try to negotiate something.

He didn’t like your silence.

“It was nice to meet you, we’ll see you again, yeah?” Price gave you a smile and you tried to return it as you weakly nodded.

“That’d be nice.” You agreed.

Price glanced towards Simon and gave him a nod before he gestured for the sergeants to follow him. He turned and walked out of the flat without another word as the other two gave Simon sympathetic looks.

“Yeah, we’ll come back around again.” Gaz made his way to the door as well.

“Ye won’t be able to get rid of us.” Soap offered you a fist bump that you accepted before he made his way to the door. “See ya!”

The flat was left silent as the door clicked behind him. It was like there was a dark cloud hanging in the room, the air was thick and it felt like every breath Simon took squeezed his lungs tightly. He didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to comfort you as you looked at him with tears in your eyes.

They were threatening to fall and he saw you bite your lip to keep it from quivering. You swallowed hard and opened your mouth to say something but when nothing came out you sniffled.

“You need a jacket…” You mumbled and left before he could stop you.

“Thanks.” He said when you came back and handed him one of his black hoodies.

Simon put it on and found his mask, making sure to conceal most of it from you as he grabbed his keys. He searched for his wallet too, and his gloves, and tied his shoes a little slower than normal as he prolonged the inevitable, prolonged the pain instead of ripping the bandaid off.

When he couldn’t find anything else to stall his departure, he came up to you and gently pulled you into him for a hug. He shut his eyes when you wrapped your arms around him and dug your fingers into the fabric of his hoodie as if he’d disappear.

Technically to you, he was.

“Get some rest and don’t wait for me.” He said in your ear and you sniffled again.

“I’ll try.” Your voice was strained and he clenched his jaw.

He pulled back and took your face in his hand, seeing that a few tears rolled down your cheeks despite the fact that you were trying so hard to keep them in. Every tear hurt him and he desperately wanted to be able to hold you for the rest of the day. His eyes softened and he wiped a few of them away with his thumb as he fought the urge to just say fuck it, and stay with you.

“I’ll come back.” He promised and placed a soft kiss on your cheek. “No more tears today.”

You sucked in a breath and let out a strained sob before you wiped your tears away. You nodded and took a few shaky breaths as you tried your hardest to stop crying.

“I’m sorry…”

Simon shushed you softly and placed another kiss on your cheek before he moved to your mouth. It was a chaste kiss since he knew that if he went any further he wouldn’t be walking out of that door, but it took away the rest of your tears for the time being.

When you broke apart he stared down at you with soft eyes full of affection but always deep desire. If anyone dared to take him back into the field before he was ready this time he would have to be dragged out of the flat, he wasn’t leaving for a long time and if he had to pull some strings for it, he would.

He caressed your cheek one more time before he stepped away from you. He didn’t look back as he felt his throat tighten up and tried his hardest to wipe your sorrowful face from his mind.

Unfortunately, it was all he could see as he shut the front door behind him and walked to the car his team had driven to come see him.

~

It was past dinner when Simon stepped back into the flat, maskless. His tired eyes scanned the now clean living room for you while the heavy weight of the past twenty-four hours pressed against him. He could barely move without feeling like his feet were full of lead and he was sure that had to do with the medicine the medic gave him, which barely took away the pain. He wanted nothing more than to collapse in his bed, hopefully with you again, but he couldn’t get rid of the pit in his stomach that worsened his mood.

He couldn’t disregard the fact that he had put you through so much turmoil because of his own selfishness.

He’d do anything for you even if you didn’t ask, just to make up for the fact that he

Before he could even open his mouth you walked into the room, still surprising him with your ability to know when he’s home even though he made no noise, and dropped his bags on the floor.

His eyes bounced around your face as you came up to him. You looked refreshed, a better contrast to how exhausted you had looked earlier this morning and he felt a little relief when he saw the small smile on your face. However, you still gave him a look of concern as you carefully wrapped your arms around him.

Simon didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you. He held onto you firmly, letting your warmth melt away into the exhaustion he had and he leaned into you. He rested his chin on your head and breathed in the shampoo smell from your hair, the overwhelming feeling of home hitting him so hard he shut his eyes as his vision began to blur.

Fuck, he really missed you.

“You look a lot less pale.” You mumbled into his chest after a few moments of silence. “Good.”

“Fixed my stitches.” He reassured you and pulled you closer into him.

You let out a shaky sigh and nodded before you buried your face in his chest. You were shaking slightly and he knew it was because you were holding back tears. He went to comfort you when you pulled back and looked up at him with teary eyes but a genuine smile on your face that made him clench his jaw tightly.

You were smiling. After all of what he did, you were still smiling at him and all he could do was stare at you as if he hadn’t stumbled in half dead and scared you.

“You’re home.” You sniffled and wiped your eyes. “Sorry…it’s just finally setting in.”

“Did you eat?” He wondered, trying to change the subject even though he was beyond grateful to finally be home with you.

Simon narrowed his eyes at you when you shook your head. He grunted when you gave him a sheepish smile and nearly dragged you into the kitchen so he could force you to eat. The pit in his stomach told him that you hadn’t eaten all day, which he hoped wasn’t true, but he wouldn’t put it past you especially if you had gone back to sleep.

“Why?” He demanded in a soft voice.

“Because I woke up an hour ago and then took a shower.” You explained truthfully but that didn’t stop the look he had. “I also wanted to wait for you…”

“Told you not to.”

“I didn’t want you to eat by yourself!”

Simon let out a heavy sigh. You were too nice, too considerate for his heavy and dark mind right now. He was exhausted, he felt guilty and like shit, which had significantly ruined his patience since this morning and yet you were being so kind to him. He couldn’t understand why you would still act this way after he had shown you what his other life was like.

How could you still want to wait for him? You should’ve eaten and just gone to bed.

“I was going to make ‘Welcome Back Dinner’ anyway.” You shrugged, still smiling as you slipped out of his grasp.

“I’ll help.” He followed you into the kitchen but you shook your head.

“And break tradition? No.”

Simon huffed loudly and stopped you in your tracks. His shoulders had tensed up significantly and he balled his hands into fists as he stared at you. He didn’t really know why he was so upset by it; you were an adult, you were choosing to do this on your own and not because he forced you and yet he couldn’t help but feel incredibly irritated by it.

He should be the one cooking for you and taking care of you. He should be fixing his mistakes, he should be making you feel better, not the other way around.

You turned around and looked him over with knitted eyebrows. You frowned slightly when you noticed how tense he had gotten and for a moment he wondered if you could read his mind just by looking at him. He wondered if you could feel exactly what he was feeling, if you could feel the guilt he had, the anger he had towards himself.

“Hey.” Your voice was soft as you came into his space again and placed a gentle hand on his cheek.

The simple touch made him flinch but somewhat pulled him out of whatever dark pit he was slowly finding himself in. The warmth from your palm had him leaning into you again as his eyes softened and he stared deep into your pretty eyes, finding himself lost in the concerned look you gave him as you gently ran your thumb across his cheek.

You ran your free hand down his arm and grabbed his hand without breaking eye contact before you carefully massaged your thumb in between his knuckles.

They were simple touches, but the more you did it the more he could slowly feel himself lose the tension locked within his body. As it melted away, he almost let his eyes close from how heavy they got as you gave him a reassuring smile.

“Let yourself take a break. I don’t mind helping.” You told him gently and he sighed as he leaned his forehead against yours.

Simon couldn’t argue with you, not when you touched him so gently and not when you talked to him with enough patience for you both. This was a battle he was going to lose since he wasn’t exactly in the best shape to try to cook anyway, just standing was already taking a lot out of him.

He didn’t say anything as he nodded. He didn’t pull away from you which made you smile as you slowly helped him into a seat at the table. It took him a moment to let go of your hand but he eventually let you go when he reminded himself that you needed to eat.

It was almost surprising how quickly you both fell back into the normal routine that you had set up when he came home. You spoke to him as you cooked, your voice gentle as you talked about what you had done since he was gone and brought him out of his head more than you realized.

He was grateful you weren’t deterred from your usual talk after what you had seen and especially since he barely had enough energy to respond to you like usual. He worried about how he may have ruined your normal life by barging in with his military life, but you didn’t seem to be bothered by it at all. He didn’t deserve that kind of leniency from you and yet he couldn’t help but feel like he was the luckiest man alive to be able to stay in this life of domesticity that felt foreign and familiar to him at the same time.

You made it so easy to fall into it, you made it easy to fall in love with this life that he had never had before. You made him crave it, you made him want it so bad against his better judgment and you made him want you more than he had ever wanted something in his life.

Soon dinner was ready and Simon felt more at ease as you sat across from him. Both of you began to eat and he found that he was staring at you a lot more often than he usually did as it finally set in that he was home and going to be for more than just a few days this time.

“I like your friends.” You said while you ate. “They’re nice.”

“They’re reliable.” He said truthfully and felt some pride knowing that they liked you just as much as you liked them.

“I was worried you were alone when you worked.”

Simon shook his head. He had been used to working alone often before Price had made the task force, and even after he had been in the task force he worked alone, but since Las Almas he had been more open to working with others. His perspective changed because of Johnny, much like how it had changed after the two of you began to grow closer.

Now he couldn’t really see himself working alone. He’d never admit it out loud that he enjoyed the company of his friends, or even that they were his friends, but he realized that working with others was also the reason why he was able to sit in front of you.

If he had been alone on this last mission, he would’ve died since Gaz wouldn’t have been there to save him, and he wouldn’t have been able to come back to you.

You would’ve been left alone, and who knows if anyone would’ve come back to tell you what happened.

Simon felt sick just thinking about that.

“No. We work together often.” He assured you and watched as you gave him a relieved smile.

“Good.”

He grunted and went back to eating. It was strange talking to you about work, he wasn’t sure he really liked it but he preferred these simple and surface level questions over anything else. He would much rather answer your questions about his teammates than any questions about what exactly he does or where he goes. He wasn’t prepared for that and he was sure it would lead to other deeper questions that would bring along far too many old wounds.

You went a little quiet and he glanced up at you. You bit your bottom lip as you stared at your plate, stabbing the food with your fork absentmindedly while you had an unsure look on your face.

Simon swallowed hard. He already knew that you were debating on asking those questions, and he found that it was hard for him to continue to eat. He cleared his throat when he felt it tighten, causing you to look up at him.

When you realized he was staring at you with suspicion you tried to give him a smile.

“So,” You began. “You have dog tags. Why haven’t I seen them before?”

“I take them off before I come home.” He replied shortly with a little more attitude than he had intended, but he could slowly feel irritation build up in his stomach, or perhaps it was fear. All he knew is that it was triggering something in him that told him he needed to either run into his room or shut the conversation down now.

However he couldn’t say anything as you gave him a slow nod. He knew that you were trying to lead up to the real question you wanted to ask but he was dreading the build up as well as trying to guess what you were going to ask.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Simon’s mouth went dry and he gripped his fork so tight that his knuckles turned white. Out of all the questions, this was one he never wanted to answer and he couldn’t believe you were asking him it.

Why did you have to be curious? You shouldn’t ask him these things, you weren’t supposed to know about this.

He glared at his plate and thought that maybe if he stayed quiet you’d just give up but he knew better.

“Simon.” Your voice was still gentle even as he glanced up at you.

“Because…I just didn’t.” He cringed at his answer and felt his stomach drop when your eyebrows knitted together.

He was acting strange, rude, standoffish. He was acting like Ghost, not the Simon that you were used to and yet he couldn’t help but fall back into that side of him as you tried to peek behind the facade, as you began to dig through him into the buried parts of him that were meant to be hidden.

You were searching for things you wouldn’t like, things that would turn you away, things that would make him lose you in ways worse than you leaving him. If you found out what he did, who he dealt with, how could he be sure you’d survive tomorrow? Or the next day?

How could he be sure he wouldn’t find you dead in your room the next time he came home?

“I’m not asking you to tell me what you do.” You explained carefully but he clenched his jaw. “I’m asking why you didn’t tell me. Do you not trust me?”

“I trust you. This isn’t about that.”

“Then what is it about-”

“Stop.”

The moment that the word left his mouth he regretted it especially as he watched you try to make yourself look smaller as you looked away from him. He had never snapped at you, never, not even when the two of you got into those rare arguments. He had never treated you maliciously even when he was upset and yet here he was forcibly shutting you down because of his own issues.

This was familiar, too familiar to a time in his life where he was in your shoes. He could scream right now as his heart went into his ears and he felt his palms start to get sweaty if it weren’t for the fact that he was frozen with fear.

It only got worse when you sat there in silence with a sad look on your face. You weren’t fighting back. You weren’t trying to stand up for yourself and he couldn’t help his mind from racing.

Had you been afraid of him this entire time? Did he make you feel like you had to be careful around him, to walk on eggshells because you were afraid he’d lash out?

Simon felt like there was nothing he could do to fix this but he had to do something, he had to try and he’d beg on his knees for your forgiveness, if he had to.

“I’m sorry.” He practically blurted out as he struggled to look at you. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

“I pushed too hard.” You told him and he shook his head.

“Don’t make excuses for me.”

Simon dared to look up at you and saw that you were giving him a confused look now. He wasn’t exactly able to hide the panic like he normally could, which he blamed because of everything that had happened to him this past twenty-four hours, and it was affecting every thought he had.

Of course you were going to ask him these types of questions, you had every right to especially after his team had shown up. Keeping you in the dark after that, after everything, was wrong and unfair to you because if he wanted to have anything with you he had to be truthful.

“What I do is dangerous.” His voice was low and serious as he stared at you. “I deal with dangerous people. You wouldn’t be safe around me. That’s why.”

Simon held his breath as he waited for you to say something. He watched as you stared at him with a serious expression across your face as you took in his answer. He anticipated you to leave, to run away from the table and to tell him that you never wanted to see him again because who in their right mind would stay with someone so dangerous?

“Okay.” You nodded. “Thank you for telling me.”

He stared at you in disbelief. You were crazy, you had to be, and yet he couldn’t help but feel some relief that you didn’t run or spit in his face. Though, he really wouldn’t blame you for it if you did. He was still waiting for some kind of repercussion for snapping at you.

You probably wouldn’t speak to him for a few days. It would hurt but he was used to far worse treatment and if you were still around then he could deal with it.

“Let’s go to bed.” Your voice was lighter as you offered him a small smile. “I can tell you haven’t slept since this morning.”

Simon’s eyebrows knitted together and he didn’t move from his spot even as you did. All he could do was watch you put your plate in the sink before you looked at him expectantly. He felt like a spotlight had been put on him as you stared at him and he clenched his jaw.

He was waiting for the other shoe to drop. He was waiting for you to disappear, to give him some sort of passive aggressive remark and leave him alone for a few days but instead you were waiting patiently for him to stand up from the table.

“If you want me to carry you, you just have to ask.” You teased but your face fell when he didn’t play along.

You stared at each other, your eyes bouncing around his face as you studied it for a long moment before he saw sadness creep up into them. He watched as your shoulders slumped and he tensed up when you stepped closer to him. He was still waiting, he was still preparing himself for you to say something to hurt him back

It took only a few moments for you to somewhat connect the dots, to see that he was anticipating something bad from you and you couldn’t help the ache in your heart.

Yes, you were hurt that he snapped at you but you were more hurt over the fact that he thought that this once instance had caused something between you. You were baffled by his unwillingness to give himself some grace after all that he had been through.

“Simon, I forgive you.” You told him with a gentle voice but a serious look on your face. “It’s okay.”

It couldn’t be that easy, even when it was you. You were just saying that, you were just trying to make him feel better when you shouldn’t. It wasn’t your responsibility to fix his mistakes.

Simon swallowed hard and forced himself to loosen up despite the fact that he couldn’t accept your forgiveness. Not yet, not until he made it up to you.

He stood up from his chair, hiding any of the soreness he felt, and stood in front of you with weak confidence as he thought back to that night where he called you for the first time while he was away. That was the only way he could make it up to you right now, tomorrow he’d do something different until you had truly forgiven him, even though you already had.

“Let me make it up to you.” His voice was soft, almost pleading, as he leaned into your space.

“You don’t have to.” You stared up at him still with that bit of sadness in your eyes as you placed a gentle hand on his arm which made him involuntarily tense from the contact.

“I want to.”

It was a white lie, because he truly believed he had to, but it didn’t matter as he carefully placed a hand on your hip and pulled you closer to him. His eyes never left yours as he studied your face, waiting for any sign of discomfort before he placed a gentle hand on your face.

He hesitated for only a moment before you wrapped your arms around his neck and he leant down to place a kiss to your lips. He started out slow, barely pressing his lips against yours as he tested the waters to see if this was something that you truly wanted.

When you deepened the kiss, he couldn’t help but let out a sigh as most of the guilt and any thoughts left his mind as you kissed him tenderly. You were calm after a long, horrible nightmare, peace within his mind as you moved your lips against his.

You moved a hand through his hair and he couldn’t help but give out a low resounding hum from his chest as you ran your fingers through his long hair.

Simon tightened his hold on your hips, his fingers digging through your shorts into your skin as he trapped you between him and the counter. He smiled when you let out a surprised squeak and placed his other hand on your other hip, giving them both a teasing squeeze.

He gently bit your bottom lip and stuck his tongue in your mouth when you let him, a fire setting burning in his stomach when you let out a soft, breathless moan. He explored your mouth again, loving the way you lightly tugged on his hair as he pushed your hips against his, purposefully grinding his hard on against you.

Another moan from you as he came into contact with your heat had him kissing you more desperately, chasing the desire to please you and make the past twenty-four hours worth it, to make you feel better, to make up for his mistakes.

He continued to grind his cock against you, grabbing the underside of your leg to get better access to your cloth cunt as he chased the sweet sounds that came out of your mouth.

He trailed kisses from your mouth to your jaw, sucking and licking a spot that had you shivering in his hold. He kissed down your neck, doing the same until you were writhing underneath him as he continued to tease you through your clothes.

“Simon…” You moaned softly and it sent a shiver down his spine, the sound being so much better than he could’ve ever imagined. It made him kiss you more and grind against you even harder. “Your stitches.”

“Don’t care.” He grunted, his mind now set on only one thing, stab wound and pain be damned, all he wanted was you.

“I do…don’t want you to be in pain.”

His grip tightened on you again and he furthered his assault on your neck despite your protests. He could be on his deathbed and he would still fight to make you feel good, he could be ripped apart and he’d still do it. He just wanted you, he wanted you so bad in so many ways that his chest ached at the thought of having to pull back now.

This was the only way he could show you how much he loved you. This was the only way you’d forgive him and love him.

“You’re stubborn.” You breathed out as he rocked his hips against yours.

“I’m fine.” He assured you despite the fact that he felt uncharacteristically out of breath for such a minimal amount of activity.

He ignored it, ignored the feeling like he was going to collapse from exertion and ignored the creeping dull ache that was starting to fall across his entire body. Instead, picked you up with ease without taking his mouth away from your jaw, deciding that he wanted his first time with you to be on your bed.

“Simon!” You squealed as you held onto him tightly.

“Won’t drop you, promise.”

He stared at you with intense desire as he walked you to your room, kicking the door open. By the time he made it to the edge of your bed, his muscles were screaming at him to let you go from the overuse of his already exhausted body.

He managed to have enough strength left to place you on your bed softly before he hovered over you, chest heaving as if he had run a marathon. He could hardly hold his head up as he stared down at you with unfocused eyes as he fought back the extreme dizziness. His skin had paled again as he leaned against the bed for support.

You were out of breath also but for a very different reason and despite your many protests, you stared up at him with desire until you noticed the state he had forced himself into.

“Oh, Simon.” Your voice was full of worry as you stared up at him with knitted eyebrows.

You ran a hand through his hair, softly stroking his face to soothe him and his eyes fluttered shut from the touch. He knew he was in no shape to do anything with you but he couldn’t let go.

“M’fine.” He tried to convince you, dipping his head down to lightly nip at your lips, but you shook your head. “Please.”

He opened his eyes and your breath hitched from the look he gave you through his eyes. Desire, want, need, the only thing stopping him was you and the fact that he could hardly keep himself up.

He pushed himself more on top of you as you squirmed underneath him, giving him a similar look as you fought with yourself. He managed to run a hand across your face and down your neck, gently palming at your covered breast and watched you arched into his touch.

You keened and dug your fingernails into his shoulders, tugging on his hoodie to move him up the bed.

Simon did as you wanted him to, happy that you would let him give this to you, as he continued to run his hands over your body. He let you push him onto the bed beside you and he sunk into the softness of it, nearly finding himself consumed by the comfort of it before he was brought back when you began to kiss his neck.

He grunted and leaned into you, still trying to recover, as you began to run your hands over his body. He jumped when you slipped them under his hoodie, the feeling of your soft hands against his scarred skin had him shivering and biting back a few whines.

You touched him so delicately, so gently as if he deserved that, as if he wasn’t built from being broken apart in every way possible. You had always left soft touches against him but this was entirely, this was much more intimate, much more than just a lingering touch on his arm or shoulder. It made his heart race and his breath hitch in his throat as he felt you kiss under his jaw.

It was too much, this tenderness was too foreign and too much but not enough. He could already feel himself getting addicted to your hands against him, to the burning feeling that you left behind on his skin from every touch you gave him.

He shifted closer to you, wanting to feel more of you against him and involuntarily bucked his hips into yours again, eliciting another one of your sweet moans from your mouth.

He went to kiss you, to run his hands and feel you again when your hand ran across his hard cock.

Simon groaned softly and shifted his hips into your touch as you palmed him through his pants. Pleasure raced up his spine and he started to feel out of breath again as he swallowed any noises that threatened to escape from his mouth. It was just your hand through his pants but the friction was enough to have him rolling his hips into your hand.

He had never felt this good from someone touching him or from touching himself and he couldn’t help but shut his eyes as he gave himself away to the feeling. You had ruined him in more ways than one and he couldn’t be happier.

He ran his hands down your waist, dragging his fingers up your shirt against your hot skin and slipped them past the waistband of your shorts. His fingers were about to part your lips and he felt his stomach flip at the thought, until you pulled away from him entirely.

Simon nearly pouted from your lack of touch and opened his eyes to see you in a beautiful daze. He stared at you unsure of why you stopped but he didn’t try to reach out to you again as you stared at him with intense need while you panted.

“Touch me and I’ll stop.” You shook your head and Simon’s eyebrows knitted together.

He was baffled and for a moment couldn’t say anything as he stared at you and your puffy lips. His eyes raked over the small marks he had left on your neck and he couldn’t help but grab your shirt to tug on it impatiently.

“I want you.”

He saw you shiver and watched as you squeezed your thighs together for just a moment. He clenched his jaw as he stared down at your clothed cunt, just imagining what it would feel like, how wet you were and what you tasted like. He couldn’t help but lick his lips at the thought and he nearly pushed you on your back so he had better access but you gripped his wrist tightly.

“No.” You said softly and the look in your eyes was still gentle. “Not me.”

Simon clenched his jaw and he wanted to argue, wanted to tell you that this shouldn’t be about him, this was supposed to be for you, to make you feel better because of him. He couldn’t let you do this, it was wrong and selfish.

“Let me make it up to you-”

“You don’t have to.” You interrupted him and placed a loving kiss on his lips that stole his breath away.

It was impossible for him to argue because you weren’t relenting with your kisses, you were making his head dizzy and when you palmed him through his pants again, he let out a breathless moan. You made him feel so good with just a simple touch that he could hardly focus on trying to argue with you.

He wanted to return the feeling, the desire and need to make you feel just as good making his grip on your shirt so tight that his knuckles turned white but he couldn’t bear the idea of you pulling away from him again.

You stuck your tongue in his mouth and he kissed you desperately, pushing his hips into your hand again as you gripped the hem of his pants and tugged them down.

He hissed when his hard cock sprung free and bit your lip a little roughly, causing you to gasp before you broke the kiss.

“Shit…” You whispered and Simon followed your wide eyes to his cock which was already leaking pre-cum out of the tip.

He knew that he was a bit larger than most and yet seeing you stare at it with bright eyes full of excitement made his stomach flip. Heat rushed across his face and chest as you wrapped your hand around the base of his cock. A groan escaped his chest as you gave a tentative squeeze, watching as some of the precum dribbled down his shaft. He somehow got impossibly harder as he saw that your hand couldn’t wrap around fully and it made his mind race.

Thoughts of how it’d look inside of you, how he’d probably struggle to get it to fit unless he ate you out like his life depended on it and what you’d look like once it did and how hard you’d squeeze him. He’d do anything to feel more of you right now, to give you the pleasure you wanted from him. If only he hadn’t been stabbed-

All thoughts went out the window as soon as you started to move your hand. Your thumb grazed his tip and spread his pre-cum over his cock causing him to let out an involuntary moan.

You stroked him slowly at first, almost like you were teasing him as you ran your fingers over the prominent veins.

Simon felt light headed as you sped up and the hot pleasure that spread across his abdomen was so intense that he couldn’t help but throw his head back as he gripped you tightly. It was too much and he could already feel himself getting closer even though you had just started.

“F-Fuck…slower.” He groaned out and you began to kiss him across his neck.

You didn’t listen to him as you sucked on his skin and lightly bit him, completely overwhelming his senses as you ran your free hand over his chest again. He was already incredibly sensitive as you treated him so much differently than any other time this has happened to him.

Every sound he made, every time he moved you kept your hands where he wanted them, made his head spin as you pulled out sounds from him that he didn’t even know were possible.

He had considered himself to be quiet in the past but he was being noisy and he thrusted his cock in pace with your hand. He couldn’t help, not when he jolted from the pleasure that was rapidly building up and not when all he could think about is you. You had taken over all of his senses which made it difficult to control the intense pleasure that threatened to spill over.

He was so close already. He was keening and whining for you, the thought of asking you to stop made him want to cry but he wasn’t sure if he had any self control, especially since he was already exhausted and he didn’t want this to end.

“Please…please slow down.” Simon begged breathlessly, his hand grabbing your wrist but he made no effort to stop you.

“Relax.” You whispered into his ear and he whimpered. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You kissed his jaw slowly while you stroked his cock at a fast pace. You snaked your other hand up from his neck and ran your fingers through his hair before you lightly tugged on his hair.

Simon let out a low, guttural grunt as the band of pleasure snapped and hot cum spurted out of his sensitive cock. You stroked him through his orgasm, causing his thighs to start twitching and for him to jolt with pleasure as more moans left his throat. The pleasure was nearly blinding and he felt a warm fuzzy feeling inside his stomach as you continued to stroke him. It almost bordered on too much before you stopped and slowly pulled your hand away from him.

He felt heat rush across his face and entire body as he turned a bright red. He was quick to hide his face in the crook of your neck, panting heavily and still in a daze as embarrassment wracked his body.

Usually he could last for a good bit. He was a trained soldier, he had been in the military for a long time and had enough stamina to be on the field for days without sleep or rest, and yet the moment you had put your hands on him he was about to cum. It had only been minutes, maybe not even five and had already cummed.

He was so embarrassed, even more so than when he had kissed you on his birthday, and if he could hide in his room he could. This was one moment where he wished he had his mask on so you at least couldn’t see his face.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled into your neck. “I didn’t mean to…that was quick.”

You shook your head and somehow managed to pull him off of your neck. You placed a soft kiss on his cheek, looking at him through your lashes as he saw a fire in your eyes, some sort of desire that he had never seen from someone. It was more than want, it was more than need and he felt himself growing harder even as he stared at you while at a loss for words.

You leaned forward and kissed him on the lips tenderly.

The embarrassment slowly left him as he kissed you back, letting you explore his mouth with your tongue as he relaxed into the mattress and into you. He felt like he was on cloud nine in your arms again, especially as you went back to running your hands over his body again while placing little kisses across his face.

No one had ever made him feel this calm, no one had ever made him feel this relaxed. It was more than just the heat of desire and the want for more of that rushing pleasure, this was tenderness that had him feeling safe.

You made him feel safe. You were safety.

If it weren’t for the fact that you were kissing him, he probably would’ve fallen asleep into hopefully a dreamless state where he could enjoy you beside him, but luckily you were still kissing him.

You still wanted him.

Simon wanted to return the favor. He inched his hands to your waist, ready to feel how wet you were and hopefully see what you would look like when he slid his fingers inside of you. He wanted to make you tremble with just his fingers like how you had done for him.

You pulled away from him however leaned your head down to his cock.

His eyes widened and his cock twitched when he felt your hot breath fan across the head of his cock. Heat raced across him as you pushed his hips down on the bed to give you better access to him and he gripped the blanket beneath him as if his life depended on it.

He couldn’t quite believe you were about to give him head and normally he wouldn't complain, but he still had some of that guilt stuck inside of him from earlier.

“You don’t-”

“Someone has to clean up the mess.”

You don’t try to hide the twinkle in your eye as you glance up at his wide eyes. You somehow look innocent yet devilish at the same time and all Simon could think was that you were going to be the death of him.

He left out a long heavy sigh when you ran your tongue from the bottom of his length to the tip. His eyes were stuck on yours as you gave his cock kittens lick, taking the cum into your mouth before you wrapped your fingers around him again. A strangled moan left his throat as you slowly began to stroke him again as you left small kisses all over him, purposefully avoiding the tip as you cleaned him up.

Simon became a panting mess as you tease him. He looked down at you with lidded eyes as you continued to work him up slower than before all while staring at him with heated eyes. He bucked his hips to try to get more friction but you placed a hand on his pelvis and pushed him down.

“Stop teasing…” He groaned and you smiled.

You gave him a few more kisses before you wrapped your lips around his sensitive tip, your hot wet mouth causing a short circuit within his mind.

He moaned loudly as your tongue worked against him and his hand shot to the back of your head. He didn’t push you down but somehow holding you was enough to ground him as you slowly sunk your mouth further down onto his cock. It felt like all of the air in his lungs had been knocked out as he felt your tongue run over the veins on his cock.

You tried to sink further. He grunted when he felt the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat and nearly came again when you gagged around him. He tugged on your hair to stop you, luckily you listened to him this time before you hollowed out your cheeks and began to bob your head up and down.

Simon threw his head back as you began to suck. He felt himself flush from the wet sounds of you taking in your mouth and he writhed against you, trying his hardest to not buck his hips into you as you stroked the parts of him you couldn’t reach.

He was still sensitive from his last orgasm but this felt so much more than overstimulation. Electricity raced through his body and his muscles twitched as you bobbed your head faster, your eyes never leaving his. The feeling was too much and he tightened his grip in your hair when you hummed, his eyes fluttering shut from the extra stimulation.

A string of incoherent words left his mouth, he could hardly think to even say anything as you sucked his cock as if your life depended on it. Pleasure built up inside of him quickly and he let out whimpers the more you continued but he was beyond caring.

He was lost in the pleasure, lost in the feeling of your mouth, lost in the feeling of you.

Before long he was close again and when you swiped your tongue across his slit, his hips bucked involuntarily, causing you to gag. He apologized to you, barely above a breathless mumble but you only hummed, which caused him to do it again, and stared up at him with tears in your eyes.

You sped up and he let out a string of curses, unable to control whatever escaped his mouth.

“Gonna…” His voice got stuck in his throat and that was the only warning you got as his hot cum seeped into your mouth.

Simon’s eyes rolled back and he let out a low groan. He could hardly catch his breath as he felt you swallow everything that was given to you. His legs shook underneath you as you ran your hands down them soothingly, helping him come down from his intense orgasm while you kept your mouth on his.

His chest heaved up and down while extreme exhaustion hit over him. He could hardly open his eyes to watch you release his cock from your mouth and pull his pants back up. He felt so incredibly tired but he wasn’t ready to fall asleep.

He removed his hand from the back of your head and grabbed your wristing, using the last of his strength to pull you up to him before he smashed his lips against yours.

The kiss was sloppy and he could taste himself on your tongue which made him hold onto you even tighter. He breathed heavily into your mouth as you gripped his hoodie and gently pushed him further into the mattress.

When you both broke apart, he stared up at you with sleepy eyes as you placed a hand on his cheek. He felt a smile spread across his face that you mirrored before you settled next to him, wrapping your arms carefully around his abdomen to make sure you didn’t touch his wound.

The only thing on Simon’s mind as he drifted off to sleep was how loving you looked at him and how safe you made him feel.

Link to part 7

A/N: Alternatively, you meet the family and Price has a Proud Dad moment tm also this is my first time writing a bj scene so bare with me

The tag list is closed!! I am so happy that so many of you want to be tagged for this story but I will not be accepting anymore requests to tag people in this series since this list has gotten long and it's hard to keep track of how many I have to add! Sorry for the inconvenience!

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[cutielando]

conflict | g.r.

synopsis: in which she doesn't know who they are anymore

a/n: this is probably going to be among the only angst fics i will post, i was just feeling inspired

my masterlist

Loneliness.

Neglect.

Emptiness.

Those were just some of the things that you had been feeling ever since your boyfriend's career had sky-rocketed and your lives had changed completely overnight.

Getting a call from Toto Wolff and being offered a contract to drive for Mercedes had been his dream ever since starting out in Formula 1 with Williams. It would be anyone's dream to drive for Mercedes, really.

But with his dream starting out, so did the problems in your relationship.

They started appearing as realistically insignificant things.

He would spend a whole amount of time on his simulator, locked away in his office for entire days at a time without so much as a break. He would be on his phone all day, barely paying any attention to you or even bothering to listen to you talk bout anything. He would stay out late at the factory, claiming that he needed to spend his entire free time there to prove to the team that he was committed and grateful for the opportunity.

You understood it all, you really did. You knew how important it was for him, how he viewed it as more of a privilege to be chosen by the team than anything else. But you also wanted your boyfriend back.

It seemed like you were apartment roommates or just friends rather than an actual couple.

You spent the majority of the day alone, you would cook him dinner and leave it for him to find at whatever hour he would decide would be a good idea to come home. You guys barely saw each other anymore, he was gone by the time you would wake up and he would come home long after you had gone to sleep.

George had entered a cycle of self-destruction and exhaustion that you didn't know how to prevent and didn't know how to deal with.

Only by talking to him would anything even come close to being solved, but he was never home. When would you get to talk if he was never there?

That miracle happened one night when you were cooking dinner and heard the front door open and close. Looking at the clock, you noticed it was far too early for George to be home.

"Hello?" you called out, continuing to stir the pot you had been working on.

"It's me" George said, appearing in the kitchen without his bags, looking more exhausted than he usually did.

You nodded, not saying anything else as you got back to your cooking.

The silence in the room was nothing short of suffocating. It felt like the walls were constricting, like there was an invisible barrier between you and your boyfriend which prevented you from interacting with each other.

“You’re awfully quiet” George was the first one to break the silence, noticing for the first time in a while just how quiet you were.

Before your relationship took a drastic turn, you had always been the chatty one. Telling him about your day, about the latest gossip you had heard, about the plans you would make with the other WAGs. You would just talk about everything and he would gladly listen.

Now, sitting in the kitchen, watching you cook silently, George realized just how long it had been since he had heard your voice speak more than 5 words to him.

You scoffed, shaking your head lightly. “You don’t say” you mumbled, trying hard not to start an argument right there with him.

“What’s going on?” his voice held so much innocence, so much cluelessness that made your blood boil.

“I don’t know what you mean” if he could act clueless, then so could you.

“Don’t give me that. You haven’t spoken a word since I got back. Something must be bothering you” he pressed.

You let out a breath, trying to calm yourself down so you could at least attempt to have a civil conversation with George.

You set aside the spoon and turned off the stove before turning around and resting against the counter.

“You want to know what my problem is, George? You. You are my problem” his eyebrows furrowed, certainly not having expected that answer from you.

“What did I do wrong?” his absolute cluelessness made you all that angrier.

“You did nothing, that’s the problem. I’ve been as understanding as any person can be about your schedule since you signed with Mercedes. The late nights, the time spent on the simulator, the calls and everything. I’ve supported you and been by your side, but I never see you anymore, George. It’s like we don’t even live in the same apartment. You’re never here, you’re gone by the time I wake up and you come home at ungodly late hours. We never see each other anymore, we never talk, I feel like your maid and not your girlfriend” it felt like a big weight had been lifted off your chest, finally being able to say everything you had been bottling up for weeks and weeks on end.

George was speechless, to say the least. He had been so caught up in his work to even think about how you must have been feeling, not having home the entire day and when he would finally come, he would lock himself away in his office to hop on the simulator.

He had been neglecting you, taking for granted the food waiting for him, the folded laundry you would do for him, the fact that you put up with everything when you could choose not to.

He had been a bad boyfriend. Hell, he had been an awful human being to you.

“I had no idea, I didn’t even realize how much I was neglecting us” he confessed, not taking his eyes from his lap, where he was playing with his fingers.

“I know you didn’t, that’s why I never bothered to say anything. We can’t continue like this, George. I can’t go on pretending to be in a relationship with someone who isn’t even here at all. I feel like we’ve become roommates and that’s it. This isn’t healthy for us” your anger had long transformed into sadness, the reality of your words hitting you just as deeply as it was hitting George. 

He got up, shaking his head and coming to stand in front of you. He brought you into his arms, squeezing you tightly until you couldn’t resist anymore and hugged him back, melting into his embrace.

It felt so foreign being in his arms again, the feeling you had missed for so long and didn’t know if you would ever feel again.

“I’m so sorry, for everything. I can’t even imagine what you must have felt, but I never want to make you go through that ever again. I promise to never neglect you again, to always put you first and not let myself get so wrapped up in my work that I forget what's most important to me. Us” he promised, planting kisses on the top of your head and you buried your face into his chest.

You knew it would take a while for things to completely get back to normal, frankly until he would manage to balance out his schedule, but you had a feeling you would be okay.

You had to believe that you would be.

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[aaliyg]

Mine All Mine, All Mine

Word Count: 1.1K+

Pairing: Azzi Fudd x black!fem!OC

Prompt: Jealousy + Friends to Lovers

Warnings: drinking, tipsy oc, VERY suggestive but nothing actually happens

Dialogue Color Code: Azzi, Liyah

(You have this edit to thank and also @iminlovewithpaigebueckers for enabling me🤭)

Azzi had never really been one for bars, especially if her team was involved. Tonight was a little different though. It was the last night of her freshman year at Uconn, and her roommate Liyah had made it her business to get Azzi out of the dorm one last time. At first, Azzi thought they were going to Ted’s since it was closest, but obviously, the shorter girl had other things in mind.

Now, Azzi found herself trailing her roomie around the new bar further into the city called Pour Decisions. It wasn't hard, she just had to keep an eye on the full head of black and copper locs. While she of course trusted Liyah when she was sober, tipsy Liyah was another beast entirely. Within twenty minutes of them being here, Liyah had somehow gotten at least five free drinks with varying levels of alcohol from other girls that had gone out that night. While Azzi and Liyah weren’t exactly an item, she still couldn’t help but feel a little jealous. Maybe it was because they had lived together all year, but Azzi had just gotten so…used to having Liyah’s undivided attention. Now to see her multitask like this…

Before she could even continue her train of thought, another girl was already coming up to Liyah and asking if she wanted a drink. By now, Liyah was swaying slightly, so Azzi politely pulled her away.

“Sorry, but I gotta take this one home. She’s had a bit too much for one night.”

Azzi made it a point to ignore Liyah’s obvious confusion as she steered her out into some fresh air. The campus wasn’t too far away, so they walked over in silence. Azzi could practically feel Liyah’s gaze burning into the side of her head, but she didn’t want to talk in public about this where anyone could listen in. Instead, she chose to speed up her gait, which made Liyah huff in annoyance as the click-clack of her heels sed up in tempo.

As soon as they crossed the threshold of their dorm, Liyah gave Azzi a look.

“Wanna tell me what that was all about?”

Suddenly the floor looked really nice to Azzi, but even then, she could see Liyah’s foot tapping impatiently. She mustered up what courage she could and sighed softly.

“...Six drinks would be a bit much don’t you think?”

“Azzi.”

Azzi took a deep breath and finally looked up, meeting Liyah’s unimpressed gaze. She usually found humor in that withering look since it usually wasn’t directed at her. Oh, how the tables have turned.

“Okay, it’s not just about the drinks. You were getting all this attention, and I just..”

Azzi could practically hear the puzzle pieces click together in Liyah’s mind as her frown slowly turned into a knowing shit-eating smirk. She knew that look all too well, and it never boded well for her in any situation, especially not this one.

"Ohhhhh…"

That smirk stayed in place as Liyah swayed her hips slowly towards Azzi. Suddenly the already small dorm felt VERY cramped and humid.

"I think I see what's going on here."

Azzi felt her chest flutter as she was slowly backed against the wall.

"Liyah…it's not like that."

Liyah raised a brow knowingly and chuckled a bit.

“Oh, but I think it is like that. You’re not exactly subtle about it, you know.”

Azzi squeezed her eyes shut as Liyah leaned in, and the scent of alcohol on her tongue wafting around was certainly not making the situation any better.

“...Are you jealous?”

“If I say yes will you lay off me?”

“If I say yes will you lay on me?”

Azzi's eyes flew open as Liyah's words registered, her heart pounding in her chest. The sheer boldness and flirtatiousness of her roommate's response left Azzi feeling both flustered and oddly intrigued. Liyah grinned as Azzi’s eyes darted every which way, visibly trying to grapple for a shred of control over herself.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

“Mhm aight then, Az. Please remember that I am a STEM major…I’m not dumb babes.”

“I never said you were…”

Liyah hummed as her fingers traced Azzi’s arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake, and Azzi's voice wavered slightly as she tried to find the right words.

"I didn't mean to come across as jealous. I just... I guess I've gotten so used to having you all to myself, you know? And seeing you with all those other girls, it just..."

Liyah could almost coo at how vulnerable Azzi looked. Taking pity, she backed off a bit, but kept her tone low and enticing as her eyes twinkled in a way that Azzi just knew meant trouble.

"You don't have to be jealous, you know…. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you’re literally the only girl I’ve actively flirted back with."

Azzi felt her chest burn as Liyah's words sunk in. She had been so caught up in her own insecurities that she hadn't even noticed the clear implication behind Liyah's actions. But…now that she said it…Azzi realized she was right.

“You look like you’re having a midlife crisis…”

Azzi ducked her head and smiled shyly despite herself. She didn’t know she could be this blind.

"I guess I just never thought you saw me that way. I mean, we're roommates and all that. I didn’t wanna…you know…"

“Ruin anything? While I appreciate it…”

Liyah gently tilted Azzi’s chin up and smiled softly at the woman before her.

“I really do like you, Azzi. If I had known getting free drinks would’ve done this then we should’ve gone out WAY sooner.”

Azzi felt a flutter in her chest as Liyah's words sank in. All this time, her feelings hadn't been one-sided after all. She couldn't help but chuckle at Liyah's playful remark. Azzi could already feel her confidence and composure seeping back in.

"So all I had to do was get a little jealous, huh? I guess I should’ve known better."

Azzi rolled her eyes playfully, even as a smile tugged at the corners of her lips. She couldn’t help but look down at Liyah’s lips as she moved closer.

"Well, if that's the case, maybe I should get jealous more often."

Liyah let out a low chuckle, her thumb tracing the outline of Azzi's mouth, voice heavy with want and promise.

"I don't think that'll be necessary babes, because from now on, you've got my undivided attention."

That’s all Azzi needed before she leaned in to kiss the woman in front of her. It felt like everything was being put into place as the universe intended it to be, and she couldn't be happier.

[zepskies]

Break Me Down - The Epilogue

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader

Summary: You’re a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk — leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcher’s team.

Truly, you joined the S.A. for the right reasons. But after you become his accidental hostage, Soldier Boy will break down every single one of them…

💚 Break Me Down Masterlist

AN: This chapter is set about a month before "Love Actually." So...are you ready?

Song Inspo: For this last chapter, it’s “The Book of Love” by Peter Gabriel. (It’s just lovely. I listened to it while writing the second half of the epilogue!)

Word Count: 7,800

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Violence and peril, angst, familiar bickering, smutty smut, bit of breeding kink, tender fluff, hurt/comfort, and an ending…

Epilogue: All My Living Time

“I’m not fucking around,” he said. “I want you to live with me.” 

Your smile was soft and bright when you took his hand. Ben wouldn’t admit it, but something in his chest stuttered to life then.

“Okay,” you said with a nod. “Let’s do it.”

Six months later…

You were frustrated with your roommate.

And yes, you used the word roommate, because he hadn’t seen fit to give it any other label.

You stewed in your irritation as you also stirred the beginnings of chicken tortilla soup. It was early in the morning before work, and Yvette had been teaching you how to master the crockpot. Hopefully, by the time you and Ben got home tonight, it would be ready and waiting for dinner.

Six months. You had to nag him about cabinets left open, dirty boots left right in front of the door to your shared apartment, and hell, actually going to his therapy sessions.

While that last one had taken months of convincing and cajoling, he’d caved when you suggested that acknowledging and dealing with what happened to him in Russia might help him control the nuclear power inside him. And maybe, just maybe, they wouldn’t have to patch another hole in the ceiling.

Mind you, he wouldn’t actually talk to said therapist about anything related to his PTSD. But at least he was going. And the therapist was apparently getting an earful of Ben’s celebrity encounters, with all the explicit, gushy details.

However, even with all of this, it also sometimes felt like you were an in-house maid rather than a partner.

The latest reason for your frustration returned to you when Ben strolled into the kitchen in search of coffee. He wasn’t yet dressed for work in his supe suit; instead, still in the plain shirt and sweatpants he’d slept in.

He glanced at you, and seeming to sense your mood, he kept to himself as he found his usual mug and poured a cup of steaming French press in silence.

You took in a breath, trying to calm yourself. Maybe he’d had time to sleep on it. You closed the crockpot and went over to him. Your hand on his arm made him pause.

“Hey,” you said, “have you thought about what I asked you last night?”

Ben’s expression remained flat. “I think I already said my piece on that.”

You sighed.

“Why is dinner with my family such a hard thing for you?” you asked. Your brows furrowed. “My sister’s starting to warm up to you! And Mom just wants to get to know you. What’s the problem?”

Ben scoffed. “Your sister fucking hates me.”

You bit your lip. He wasn’t totally wrong, but in fairness, Louisa wasn’t happy to learn about why you’d nearly died in the hospital, when Vought Tower collapsed.

She thought you needed therapy for an egregious case of Stockholm Syndrome. But the more Ben worked with Supe Affairs, helping to clear the streets of out-of-control supes and cleaning up the remains of Vought, you were slowly getting Louisa to come around.

“She just needs time to get to know you too,” you said.

Ben wasn’t having it though. He rolled his eyes and tried to walk away from you with his coffee and a newspaper—aiming to get to his favorite lounge chair in the living room. It was the way he always started his morning, like the old man he was.

You followed him.

“Come on, one dinner won’t kill you,” you said. “And by the way, neither would moving your dirty-ass boots out of the doorway.”

You went over to grab said boots, and in your annoyance, you all but tossed them into the hall. Ben frowned at you, throwing down the newspaper onto the coffee table.

“Why’re you nagging me like a goddamn wife?” he snapped.

“Wife?” you scoffed, crossing your arms. “You don’t even call me your girlfriend.”

But God forbid another man even smile in your direction. Ben was possessive, protective, and claimed with all but words that you were his. And yet, he wouldn’t say it.

You shouldn’t have been surprised that he was afraid of commitment, but you’d been living together for six damn months. Almost seven, if you counted the safe house.

When you found this nice, but cozy apartment in Scarsdale, you’d sat him down at the breakfast bar in the kitchen, like the two of you used to in that house in Medellin.

And you established the ground rules before you two officially moved in together: 

First, an exclusive relationship meant exclusive. Meaning no fucking around. (He’d raised a brow at you.)

Second, you were his partner, not his slave. You expected him to carry his hefty weight, not only in the relationship, but around the house. (He’d most definitely rolled his eyes at that.)

And finally, don’t be an asshole, you’d decreed. “Be honest when you’re not feeling right about something. But don’t be a dick about it.” 

That cut both ways, of course, just like the other two rules. He’d agreed to all of these, albeit begrudgingly. You hadn’t really known then if he meant it.

And now, looking at him, you still had no idea if he was trying, or if he was just tired of being alone…and if you were just a convenient bedwarmer. You bit your lip once again, this time with a growing fear blooming anxiety in your chest.

“Do you even love me?” you asked.

Ben blinked down at you, and his lips pulled into a deep frown.

“Stop fucking around,” he said.

“I’m serious,” you insisted. Your crossed arms tightened, as if to protect yourself from what he might say. “You’ve never said it once.”

“And the fact that I agreed to live in this mediocre fucking apartment doesn’t mean anything?” he said, gesturing around him with a hand. “I take you out, I buy you shit. Matter of fact, I fucking spoil you.”

“And you take off whenever you feel like it, especially after missions,” you shot back. “Sometimes I don’t know where the hell you’ve gone for hours. For all I know, you’re out there doing blow with a caravan of strippers!”

While that did sound like a damn good time, that hadn’t been Ben’s M.O. in recent months. And in his mind, you should’ve known better.

“I haven’t fucked anyone but you since we moved in here,” he snapped.

Even longer than that, if he was honest. 

Meanwhile, you wanted to trust his words, desperately, but you just didn’t know if you could. 

“Even if I believe you, what’s the problem here?” you asked. Your gaze fell from his as you worried your bottom lip. “Am I doing something wrong?”

You didn’t see the way Ben’s brows knitted together, his eyes softening a bit.

“Other than annoying the hell out of me right now, no,” he replied. 

“Okay,” you nodded with a sigh. You looked up at him again. “Then just tell me the truth. What are we doing here?” 

“What the fuck do you mean?” Ben’s hands went to his waist, and once again, he frowned in irritation. “I’m here. What more do you want from me?” 

“Do you love me?” you asked. “And don’t lie to me.” 

He knew very well that you would be able to detect if he was lying. Which was why, you suspected, he hadn’t tried to. 

He couldn’t seem to answer you though…and that broke your heart.

Shaking your head, you walked away from him to get ready for work.

Your attitude at work was snappish at best. Annie had pulled you from the Surveillance department on your lunch break to join her and your friends in the breakroom, but you couldn’t enjoy yourself like you usually would.

“Smooth and creamy, all the motherfuckin’ way,” M.M. said. Sitting across from him in the breakroom was Frenchie, pelting him with a roasted peanut.

“This is why you are an unsophisticated, bourgeois, fucking fuddy-duddy,” Frenchie remarked. He was also vaping, as Annie was trying to get him to stop smoking indoors. “Extra crunchy peanut butter is the only way to do business.”

“What’s the point? Just eat peanuts if you want it that crunchy,” M.M. countered. He blocked each roasted nut thrown at him and organized them in a perfect pile on the table.

“You know what? You’re right. Smooth and creamy is how I’ll eat out your mother’s sweet and savory vajine,” Frenchie teased.

M.M.’s deadpan face was priceless. But when a peanut projectile strayed and hit you in the cheek, you leveled Frenchie with a glare.

“Can you guys not act like children for five goddamn minutes?” you snapped.

His brows raised, along with his hands in surrender. M.M. and Annie looked at you in mild surprise, and the latter with concern after the guys eventually left.

“What’s going on with you? You’ve looked tense as hell all day,” she asked. You sighed, holding a hand to your brow.

“I know. I’m sorry,” you replied. She gave you a knowing look.

“Is…something going on?” she asked. “Is it Ben?”

Most of the S.A. was still wary of Ben, while M.M. tolerated him at best. (You understood how hard he was trying.)

You appreciated Annie though. She was a good friend, and along with Hughie, she’d been another who started to come around to the idea of Ben. Not only as he occasionally worked with the S.A., but to the man himself, after she’d seen the way he did his best to save you, Yvette, and her son Devon.

You nodded at her question. You couldn’t help the tears burgeoning in your eyes. Annie scooched her chair over so she could rub your back in comfort. You sniffed and tried not to break down here in the middle of the breakroom, over your sad ham sandwich.

“We had a fight,” you admitted. Annie’s gaze was tight with concern.

“Did he…hurt you?” she asked. Her brown eyes were as direct as her words, promising her protection as well as retribution, depending on how you answered.

Your glassy eyes widened. “No. He’s not like that, he…believe it or not, but he’s never hurt me, Annie. Not once.”

After a moment, she nodded. “Okay, good. Well, tell me what happened.”

You wanted to. But before you could, both of you got an incoming text in the team group chat. It was from Grace Mallory.

She had a new mission.

Grace asked you to join the team on your first field mission since you’d returned to work three months ago. She also called in Ben, as in her words, it was another “all hands on fucking deck” situation.

Ben and Butcher eyed one another with similar stoic frowns, before they proceeded to ignore each other. Despite how you felt about Ben right now, the brief exchange almost made you smirk.

Apparently the whole I saved you with my super blood thing was awkward for both of them. You knew Ben had seen it as a means to an end. You still didn’t know how Butcher felt about it, but it seemed as if a begrudging respect had formed between the two men.

Or at least, they were civil, anyway.

“All right,” Grace said, once she saw that everyone was in attendance. “Let’s begin.”

A supe named Sapphire had been giving the CIA trouble for years now. She was moving drugs from South America to the States, to the Middle East, whoever would deal with her. And she was smart. She had a network of spies that transcended continents, and so she had evaded every attempt at arrest.

She was also a powerful supe, with the ability to channel vaporizing energy not unlike Crimson Countess had. However, this supe could spear blue shards of light through her enemies as well.  With her damn eyes.

Grace turned to you after she finished explaining the details of the mission.

“Sapphire’s internal security is advanced. Our system can’t penetrate her firewalls. You’ll need to get a hand on the mainframe from there, shut down her system. Then our Surveillance team can back you up here.”

You nodded, but in the corner of your eye, you noticed Ben frowning as he crossed his arms.

“What?” you asked.

“You’re out of practice,” he told you. “You really think you’re ready for this?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? I train every day,” you snapped back.

Ben’s expression fell into irritation. “Not the same, and you fucking know it.”

Butcher, Annie, and the others watched the exchange with mixed wariness and discomfort. Grace looked between you and Ben with curious, narrowed eyes.

“Is this going to be a problem, you two working together on this?” she asked.

You turned from Ben’s annoyed face and met Grace’s gaze directly.

“Not at all,” you said.

Sapphire had been spotted doing business in the Meat Packing District. By day, the building was a beef butchering factory. By night, it was apparently one of the most massive drug running operations in the city.

As such, her security team was extensive—at the front, the back, and the roof. So while Butcher, Kimiko, and Ben broke through the front, making a lot of noise and distraction, the rest of you went under.

Unfortunately, that meant the sewer. Annie lit the way through, while M.M. followed a set of schematics to find the right spot.

“It’s not my first time in the bowels of New York City, but please God, let it be the last,” Hughie quipped. You tried not to breathe the foul smell through your nose.

“Watch the fucking rat,” M.M. said with a grimace, before he set up the double-sided ladder he brought. He and Frenchie climbed either side of it up to the metal ceiling which, according to the building’s schematics, led directly beneath the factory basement.

They took up welding guns and masks to carve a large hole into the metal and cement above. And soon enough, they pushed up and slid over a large portion, creating a gap you could all crawl through. 

M.M. helped Annie up first, and she shot a few star bolts at the three men inside, who had been smoking and eating deli sandwiches. Each of them went down, alive, but groaning in pain. That allowed the rest of you to climb up and into the basement.

“We’re in,” M.M. said into the Bluetooth communicator in his ear.

“We’re cutting through her goon squad,” Butcher said. “Sapphire’s here somewhere. I can smell a massive cunt already.”

“Gross. Thanks for that visual,” Annie remarked.

From there, you all took off toward the stairwell. It was your task to find the operation’s security control room. So Hughie and Frenchie went with you as backup, while M.M. and Annie went to join the fight and find Sapphire.

It took you a few tries to find the right room. Most of them were offices. One contained wagons of discarded meat parts (disgusting). But eventually, you found a large room filled with computer equipment and a huge wall monitor with several panels of camera feeds. You and Frenchie raised your guns and took out the team inside.

Then you and Hughie went to the controls. Frenchie watched the door while you worked to disable the firewall first. You instructed Hughie on how to knock out their communications as well. And within a few minutes, your work was done. You were able to make a call to the S.A. Surveillance team.

“Hey, friend!” a cheerful voice greeted you. You smiled; it was your coworker Jess, who you’d worked with for the past two years. 

“Jess?”

“Yep! I’m helping out on this one. What do you need?”

“I shut down the firewall. I’m giving you the I.P. address now so you can connect.”

“…Okay, got it. I’m in. I can see all twenty cameras, and you! Hey, there.”

“All right, where’s Sapphire?” you asked.

“Looks like they haven’t found her yet,” Hughie said, pointing at the camera feed in the main room, filled with rows of conveyor belts, and a massive fight as Ben, Butcher, and the others made their way through the building.

“We’ll just have to help them clear each room,” you said. “Let’s go. Jess, keep an eye on us, but look out for Sapphire.”

“Will do. I’m patched into your comm now too,” she said. So you hung up your cell, and you left with Hughie and Frenchie.

You ran into more security when you left the room, more than the three of you could realistically handle as a fire fight began. You guys ran in the opposite direction, but while you veered right around the corner, Frenchie and Hughie ran left. Bullets tore in between, making sure that none of you could cross the hall to join back up.

“You guys keep going. I’ll find my own way out,” you called out to them. Neither of them liked that idea, but Frenchie nodded and pulled Hughie away when Sapphire’s security team closed in.

You kept running down the hall. You knew you were being chased. Several heavy footsteps thundered behind you. 

“Jess, I need a way out of here,” you commed in.

“You’re on the second floor,” she said. “The closest stairwell is the one you’re running away from.”

“What’s the second closest?” You panted as you ran.

“Hmm, you can cut through room 234. The exit stairwell is right on the other side.”

 “Is the room clear?” you asked.

After a moment, Jess answered. “Yep, it should be.”

"Should be?”you said dubiously.

“What the hell’s going on?” you heard Ben’s voice on the line. You heard the edge of his annoyance (and underlying worry), but you didn’t have time to talk to him right now.

“Looks clear on my end,” said Jess,“but this connection is a bit wonky.”

Damn it, Jess, you thought. When you reached room 234, the door was solid gray. There was no window to peek into, and you didn’t have time for caution, as a stray bullet nearly caught you in the head.

You ripped the door open and ran in, slamming the door shut behind you and locking it for good measure.

You turned around and stopped short. A gasp caught in your throat.

The room was huge, and it was filled wall-to-wall with white packages, of what you could only assume was cocaine. A few men were continuing to stack them. At the center of it all was a tall woman, rich tan skin, long black hair, wearing a deep blue pantsuit and killer heels. She looked like a boss ass bitch.

But unfortunately, she was also looking straight at you, raising a brow.

“Ah,” she said. A smile curved her lips, painted with a dark plum lipstick. “You’re one of the little bitches making a mess in my office.” 

Her eyes glowed blue, and yours widened. You dove for the nearest shelter—a wall of cocaine parcels. White powder exploded and wafted in the air as you ducked and ran across the room (and tried not to inhale). You drew your gun and shot out the legs of her men underneath the long stretch of table, but you yelped as bullets continued to follow you.

“I found Sapphire! Need backup in 234!” you shouted into the comm.

But when a blast of blue energy rocked into the wall directly behind you, you screamed as you were thrown forward. You landed painfully on your side, with the wind knocked out of you.

After a moment, you drew breath into your lungs and were able to pick yourself up. The exit door was close, a mere few feet away, but the second you reached for it, you had to pull back as narrow blue shards of light pierced the door. 

Sapphire was quickly approaching, just a yard or so away from grabbing you.

Instead of shooting your gun, you went for the taser at your belt and shot fast. Sapphire grabbed the end of the line like a fucking moron. Her blue eyes widened in outrage and pain when it shocked 50,000 volts of electricity through her body.

You took your chance, and you ripped the door open and fled. You just didn’t expect the bolt of energy that shot after you when you reached the stairs.

It didn’t hit you, but trying to dodge it made you lose your balance. You uttered a short scream as you were forced to jump the first flight of stairs.

You landed on the middle platform between the first and second floor. This time, you knew you twisted your ankle badly on the way down. You whimpered, holding your ankle and shin, but you knew you didn’t have time to waste.

It was a struggle to claw your way up to the guard rail. You could barely put pressure on your right foot, but you had no choice as you scrambled down the rest of the stairs. Already the door to the stairwell was blown open, and a pissed supe was on her way down behind you.

After shoving the door open on the first floor, you stumbled out and took another painful spill across the concrete floor. To your relief, M.M. picked you up by your arms.

The door behind you swung open, and before Sapphire could fire off a vaporizing blow, Ben raised his new titanium shield in front of you and M.M.

The blue energy bounced right off, and Ben used his shield to bat the supe right in the face—like swatting a fly. With a shriek, she was thrown hard against the wall.

Sapphire sunk to her knees, then the electric blue flickered out of her eyes as she fell unconscious to the floor.

When you all returned to Supe Affairs, Ben thundered down the hall towards the Surveillance department.

“Ben!” You hurried after him the best you could with a sprained ankle, bare-footed and wrapped, while M.M. and Hughie trailed behind. The others were busy getting Sapphire into custody.

Hughie was concerned for you though, while M.M. also wanted to know how you were going to try and reign in Soldier Boy.

“What the hell are you doing?” you called after Ben.

“I wanna know what goddamn moron cleared that fucking room,” he barked, but he didn’t slow down.

M.M. called your name from behind.

“Get your boyfriend in check,” he warned.

You sighed in irritation. At this point, you didn’t even know if he was your boyfriend.

But you struggled to reach him. You were practically hopping on one foot. The moment you tried to put any pressure on your right one, you faltered with a cry as you all but crashed against the wall to catch yourself. Hughie went to help you, grabbing your arm gently with a supportive hand on your back.

You didn’t see it, but that was when Ben stopped short. His jaw ticked. And he turned on his booted heel. When he saw you struggling to support yourself against the wall, he reluctantly went back. He knocked Hughie’s scrawny hands off you and wrapped an arm around your waist.

When he tried to just gather you into his arms to get the weight off your injured foot, you snapped at him.

“I can walk!” you said. “Let’s just go home please.”

His nostrils flared in irritation, but he helped you try to walk back toward the exit instead. You winced in pain with every small step.

Ben growled in annoyance. Fuck this. 

He hefted you effortlessly into his arms. You gasped and clung to his shoulders, and afterwards, you glared at him.

“I said I can walk!” you insisted.

“Shut up,” he grated out, swiftly heading for the exit doors down the hall. M.M. and Hughie watched with wide eyes while you and Ben devolved into what you did best.

“Don’t tell me to shut up!” you raised your voice.

He glared at you. “You’re in rare fucking form right now.”

“You’re the one being an asshole!”

“And you’re being a disrespectful brat!”

You rolled your eyes as anger burned hot in your veins. “What-fucking-ever, grandpa.”

Ben’s teeth clicked and grinded together. It took everything he had within him not to toss you. 

“You really wanna fucking get it, don’t you?”

“Suck my dick. How about that?” you sassed back, unfazed by his warning. 

Ben bulldozed through the double doors with a swift kick that shook them on their hinges. The bickering continued long after you two exited the building. 

Hughie just stared, mouth gaping, while M.M. crossed his arms. 

“That is some volatile shit,” Hughie remarked. 

M.M. scoffed, with a subtle shake of his head. 

“Nah, man,” he said ruefully. “That’s true motherfuckin’ love.”

Meanwhile, in the car, Ben drove home to Scarsdale. You simmered in the passenger seat. He glanced at you.

“Are you gonna be a hissy bitch all night?” he asked. You glowered at him.

“You’re the fucking grouch,” you shot back. In times like these, you liked to fantasize. Sometimes you wished you could rip out his spine and play Jenga with the vertebrae.  

“And you’re the one who nearly got yourself killed,” he retorted.

You took issue with this, your brows raising high.

“Excuse me? You’re really blaming me for what happened with Sapphire? You were ready to take out my friend for making an honest mistake.”

His gaze briefly left the road, turning to you in frustration. He didn't understand how you couldn't get it through your thick skull. You had been one shaky step shy of being fucking vaporized today.

No blood. No body. Just...nothing.

“Case in point, you’re the best in Surveillance," he said gruffly. "You don’t need to be in the field."

His compliment stopped you, warming you a little, but he was missing the point.

“I go where I’m needed, just like you,” you said. “You don’t get to tell me how, when, or where to do my job.”

Needless to say, it was tense for the rest of the way home.

Ben helped you inside, after which, you were determined to get to the bedroom by yourself. He watched you hop away from him with a frustrated shake of his head.

He sighed and started to peel off his gloves and untie his boots…but instead of leaving them by the door, like he usually would, he kept walking until he made it to the bedroom he shared with you. He sat on the edge of the bed and took his boots off there.

He watched you ignore him as you closed yourself into the bathroom.

You came out of the shower a little while later. Your hair was damp, but unwashed as you hadn’t been able to stand there for very long. The wrap on your ankle had gotten wet, so you grabbed the spare one that the paramedic had given you.

Ben didn’t look at you as he took his turn heading into the bathroom. After the door shut, your shoulders slumped with a sigh.

You tried to put on some shorts, but you quickly gave up and instead put on an overlarge shirt over your underwear. You remembered then that this shirt was an old one of Ben’s, and now a favorite of yours, because it still smelled like that earthy mix of his cologne and aftershave.

Frowning, you sucked in a deep breath. And you made a decision.

By the time Ben came back out with a towel wrapped around his hips, he found you still in the bedroom. Except you were packing a suitcase—the same one he’d brought to the safe house he’d shared with you for a month.

You were stuffing clothes into it from your side of the dresser. Something churned uncomfortably in his stomach, and he approached you.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he demanded to know.

You glanced up at him, but continued packing.

“Well, you made yourself very clear this morning that we’re just roommates. So I’m going to the guest room.”

“All right, don’t get all fucking hormonal,” he said, reaching out with a hand to stop you. You snatched your hand away from him. His brows raised in disbelief.

When you tried to get past him on the way to your closet, he held fast to your arm. With an angry frown, he then grabbed your suitcase and spilled it over onto the bed. You didn’t need a fucking suitcase to move one room over. Not that he planned to let you go any-damn-where.

“Enough,” he said sharply.

You met his intense stare with your own, but your eyes were shining and red. In that moment, you both stilled. The silence was palpable. For you, it was heartbreaking.

“I can’t do this anymore, Ben,” you confessed. Tears welled up in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall just yet. “I put my all into this, and I just…I can’t be with someone who won’t be honest with me.”

You started to grab your suitcase again, along with your discarded clothes. Ben stopped you. 

“I said enough,” he snapped. 

You then threw the heap of clothes to the floor, suitcase and all.

“Why?” you tearfully retorted. “Why should I listen to you?” 

His deep green eyes searched yours. For what, you didn’t know.

Eventually, you started to see through the cracks of his anger.

“Because I fucking love you,” he said. 

You blinked up at him, with hope stuck in your throat. But you were stubborn in your denial.

“You’re just saying that to get me off your back,” you argued. “Either you’ve just gotten used to having me around, or you just don’t feel like being alone. But you don’t really care about me.”

You knew you were saying words you didn’t mean.

You knew that wasn’t true…but you couldn’t help it.

You were more upset than angry now, seconds away from dissolving into pitiful tears. You were just stubborn enough to hold them at bay.

“Just shut up for one goddamn second,” Ben said. He held you by your shoulders, though his hands soon moved down to grip your arms. It wasn’t a painful hold, but it was firm, and quite possibly pleading.

Despite your better judgment, you gave him time to speak.

“You really think I’d stay here in this shithole if I didn’t want you?” he asked. “If I didn’t care about you?”

You unconsciously held your breath. For a long moment, he hesitated to continue.

Again, you waited for him.

Meanwhile, Ben knew he was being a coward. He’d been holding back. Not because he wasn’t serious about you, but because he’d been burned before. 

He knew he’d spent his life being a fucking bastard, in most ways. He knew he’d been wrong, and hadn’t given two shits about it. But Crimson Countess…Tess…he’d been willing to settle down with her. He’d actually told her he loved her and hadn’t been totally lying through his teeth. 

Yeah, he’d fucked around. Flirted with other women in front of her. He knew he was a hypocrite. Still, in whatever way he could at the time, he thought he’d loved her. 

And she’d lied to him. She’d gone through the motions of being with him. For fame or fear or whatever her reasons had been, she went along with it. And then she’d sold him out, along with the rest of their team. 

For nothing. Just to get him the fuck out of her life—out of the world. 

So what was he supposed to do with you? Just let you walk the fuck in, give you the deepest parts of him? A dark fucking space that he’d never given to anyone.

Well, he knew now if he didn’t, you were going to leave. But he wasn’t willing to let go either.

So…he relented. For once in his life, he told the truth.

“I love you,” Ben admitted. “In my whole damn life…I think you’re the only one who’s made me feel it for real.” 

Tears finally slipped down your cheeks. You reached out and grasped his wrist, mostly for stability as you took in his words. He took that hand, held it to his warm chest. Always warm. 

“But one day, I’m still going to fucking lose you,” he said, looking down on you. “Then I’ll be right back where I started.”

Alone. 

You looked up at him with a sad, rueful smile. 

“Not exactly where you started,” you replied. He wasn’t the same man you met last year. You pressed your free hand to his cheek.

“Taking Compound V doesn’t guarantee I’ll come out like you, with a longer lifespan.”

“It’s something the CIA can work on,” Ben said. 

“You want Dr. Baker to experiment on me?” you asked, quirking a brow. The CIA had recruited her, ironically enough.

Ben closed his eyes for a second, letting out a slight huff. “That’s not what I’m fucking saying.”

You nodded and soothed your fingers through his hair. 

“Okay, we’ll have that conversation. I promise.” Then you smiled. “But let me just have this moment…my boyfriend loves me.”

You looked into his eyes and you knew he meant it. His hands moved to your waist, around to the small of your back. You clung to his shoulders and shifted off your aching ankle with a wince. Ben noticed, and he raised you up to him. It had the added benefit of letting you reach his face easier.

He guided you into a searing kiss. You responded in kind, delving into his hair again and opening your mouth to his demanding tongue. With the tips of your toes, you pushed up from the ground and he helped you wrap your legs around his waist.

The towel he wore was starting to slip, and you shoved it the rest of the way off with your foot, until he stood in the center of the bedroom in all his glory. 

He smirked into your lips and walked you to the bed. But before he could lay you down, you broke the kiss and held his face.

“You really love me?” you asked, just to make sure. It was the part of you, perhaps still scarred deep down, that had to ask.

Ben chuckled. He rested his forehead against yours. “You’re mine, sweetheart. Don’t you fucking forget it.”

You grinned, and you kissed him this time, only breaking when he lowered down to the bed. Once your back met the plush mattress, all bets were off. He wrenched your shirt up over your head, and you reached for him again.

Your lips drew a hot, wet path from his jawline to his neck, biting and sucking all along the way to that sensitive spot between his neck and shoulder. His hand clenched in your hair, a deep sound caught in his throat when he felt the sharp sting of your teeth, playfully biting, then soothing with your tongue.

Your nails bit into his skin, but merely felt like teasing down his back, making a shiver trill along his spine. He all but pressed you into the mattress as he made his own descent.

Your fingers trailed up and into his hair while his mouth worked its way down between your breasts, stopping to lavish attention on each one. You made sounds of pleasure when he took a hardened nipple between his lips, between his teeth, dragging deliciously over your skin.

Your thighs wrapped around his hips again, He bucked teasingly into your clothed core, making you moan when you felt his wet tip dampening your panties.

“Ben…”

His lips curved, but he didn’t answer you. His fingers were pressing into the flesh of your thigh as he continued to tease your breasts. You’d felt how hard he was already and frankly, you were surprised he was taking his time.

“Listen,” you panted in his ear. “You’ve gotta wrap it up this time. Do we even have condoms?”

You knew for a fact that Ben didn’t buy them. 

But his brows furrowed. His mouth left your breast as he looked up at you.

“What?”

“I haven’t replaced my IUD yet,” you confessed. Its five-year lifespan had been up, and so you’d gotten the birth control device removed a few days ago.

Now, you watched in amusement at the way his lips curved into a pleased grin.

“No, don’t you even think about it,” you warned. Though you almost laughed at how excited he looked. “We’re not ready for that.”

“Why fucking not?” Ben asked. His pressed his length against your core more insistently. The idea of fucking you raw, spilling into you, putting his seed deep inside you without resistance, had his cock throbbing with anticipation.

“Ben!” You had to laugh. You two hadn’t even been living together that long, and you had just gotten on the same page after six months of trying to figure out what you were together.

“Don’t tell me you don’t want kids,” he said. And he began to ply you with tantalizing kisses along the column of your throat, down your neck, the scraping of teeth making you shudder in delight.

“I do,” you could admit. “But is right now really the best ti—”

He choked a moan out of you as his fingers pushed your underwear aside and spread your folds, then delved right in. Your core pulsed, hot and wet as his thick digits sunk deep inside you.

“God,” you uttered, gripping his hair tight. He stretched and explored your inner channel with two fingers, while his thumb found your clit with ease.

“When then?” he asked. But his hand was unrelenting, working you over until your toes curled and the coil in your lower belly began to tighten. You looked up at him helplessly.   

“Can we talk about this later?” you keened. Ben smirked and suddenly withdrew his fingers from your dripping pussy. He snatched your underwear, ripping them down the middle and making you gasp.

“No time like the fucking present,” he insisted. He lined himself up to your entrance, but you stopped him with a warning look. You knew if you let him inside you now, he was going to try and get his way.

“Ben,” you warned.

He sighed and let you stop him, but then his teasing edge faded.

Ben pressed a hand to your cheek. When he leaned down to kiss you, you felt the need and wanting behind it. 

He pulled away to meet your eyes. You softened looking up into his, because you understood what he wanted.

“We have time, baby,” you promised, stroking his chin. “We’ll have a family…just give us some time.”

He was disappointed…but he nodded. Sighing again through his nose, he clenched a hand into the now tangled mess of your hair.

“Say it,” he demanded. “Say you’re fucking mine.”

Your eyes widened. In all of this, you’d forgotten to be honest yourself. 

“Of course I’m yours,” you said. “I love you, Ben. So much, I can hardly take it.” 

He closed his eyes with furrowed brows. It had been a very long time since he’d heard those words. Maybe the first time someone had said them with any real sincerity, besides his mother. 

You encouraged him to look at you, both with your voice and your hand gently touching his face. And when he opened his eyes, you marveled at the depths there. 

Smiling, you guided him back to your lips. It was slow and sweet…until it wasn’t, deepening in passion and urgency again. Need burned inside you, so deep and strong that you couldn't take it anymore.

You slipped a hand between you to grasp his still hard cock. You caressed him a few times, letting your thumb circle around the sensitive head. Ben couldn’t help thrusting into your hand, releasing a grunt. His eyes briefly closed again as you pressed open-mouthed kisses to his neck, down his chest.

“I need you,” you whispered against his skin. Ben nodded while you held his length poised at your entrance. He raised your hips, tucking your ankles over shoulders. For your injured one, he rubbed your calf.

“What a fuckin’ trooper,” he said with a smirk.

You smiled, but it soon fell into a moan as he began to push inside you. Every time, he stretched and filled you completely. Your inner walls wrapped around him and already fluttered with heat.

“Fuck, baby doll. Got me tight as a damn glove,” Ben remarked. You had to giggle, but that just squeezed him harder. When he began to move, it was all you could do to cling to his shoulders.

As basic as the position was, you liked being able to see his face. You knew when to spur him on, and when to just hold on for dear fucking life. But above all, he was a skilled man, and you enjoyed watching him work.

You were so consumed by it that when he came, it took both of you by surprise. He spilled into you hot and deep, but he still filled you with ragged thrusts, which hit that special place inside that made your entire body shudder with pleasure. You couldn’t help but come apart with him.

Your nails bit fruitlessly into his skin as your voice rose on a high moan. The two of you panted for breath, and he pulled out and let down your legs back to the bed. Once you felt the telltale dripping of his release slipping down from between your legs, your eyes widened. 

Oh shit, you thought. “We forgot the condom.”

Ben stared down at you, first in confusion, then in surprise. And finally, with a broad, Cheshire-like grin.

You laid a hand over your eyes as you relaxed into the pillow behind your head, trying not to laugh.

“I can’t believe we just did that,” you said.

“We? I was following your lead,” Ben said. He moved to lay beside you in full satisfaction, folding his hands over his chest. He looked like the cat that caught the horny-ass canary.

"Haven't you heard of, oh, I don't know, pulling out?" you quipped. Ben rose a brow at you, still with that smug look on his face.

"Not my philosophy, sweetheart," he said.

Your mouth dropped open incredulously. Your gaze narrowed, but looking into his gleaming eyes, you really just had to laugh. His smile grew.

Ugh. Whatever, you thought. For now, you closed your legs and moved over to rest your head on his shoulder. He welcomed you with an arm wrapping around your waist.

What’re the chances that I’m ovulating anyway? you thought.

After a beat, you huffed another laugh. With your luck, you’d definitely have to stop at a drugstore for a pregnancy test.

And yet, in times like these, you were happy that you caved when Ben insisted on installing a TV in the bedroom. After you both got cleaned up, it was nice to fall into bed like you used to and find something new to watch together.

There were so many things you wanted him to catch up on, and he was generally game for whatever you thought he might like.

Three episodes of The Office later though, you stopped laughing so much and fell into your thoughts. Ben noticed, tugging on a loose strand of your hair.

“What’s the matter?”

“You really think our apartment is a shithole?” you asked.

He shrugged. “I might’ve embellished.”

“Seriously. If you’re not comfortable here—”

“I’m comfortable,” he said, turning his gaze to you. “Why’re you asking me that now?”

“I don’t know,” you said. “I just want you to be happy here. I want this to feel like home for both of us, but not like, boring either.” 

He smirked. “Hence the caravan of whores and blow.” 

You shook your head with a laugh. But he still saw you trying to stem off that worry. That all this wasn’t enough for him. 

Well, Ben could complain about being cramped in this three-bedroom apartment…but he knew that when he came home, he wouldn’t be alone. 

He’d be able to see your stuff on the nightstand, by your side of the bed, your half of the closet, your sweet-smelling soaps and lotions in the bathroom. All of that was familiar to him now. 

It was home, he supposed. And so were you.

The beginnings of a softer smile curved his lips, but he edged it into a smirk.  

“You’ve got something they don’t,” he said. 

“What’s that?” you asked, raising a brow. 

“You try the ever-living fuck out of my patience,” he said, “unlike anyone on the planet.” 

With a giggle, you rolled over onto his arm and chest, resting your head on his shoulder. 

“Buuut…?” 

He conceded with a nod, if also a roll of his eyes. His arm lifted to once again slip around your waist.

“But no matter how fucked up it got, you stayed.”

With me, his tone implied.

“That’s more than anyone else in my goddamn life,” he said.

And that made you tear up all over again.

“So you’re staying,” you clarified, only half-teasing.

It reminded you of when you’d sat tied to a chair, wondering why the hell Soldier Boy would want to let you live. You could’ve never known it then, but you’d stared straight into the face of your future.

You didn’t know if Ben was remembering the same thing, but he smiled a little, brushing away your tears with his thumb.

“I’m staying,” he replied. Your smile brightened, and you leaned up for a kiss.

“Then we’re square,” you whispered against his lips. 

He chuckled and deepened the kiss. He turned off the TV, chucking the remote further down the bed and turned to trap you beneath him again.

“Nope.” You finished wiping your eyes and pushed against his chest. “You’re not finessing me twice. Go find a damn condom.”

He gave you a grumpy look. “Fucking killjoy.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you laughed. You reached up and took his face in your hands.

“I promised, didn’t I?” you reminded. “We’ll get there.”

His gaze searched yours.

“Soon, not someday,” he said. You nodded, soothing your thumb across his cheek.

“Soon,” you agreed. And you reminded him, even as your throat constricted once more with emotion. “Ben, I love you…God, I love you. And I’ve never wanted this with anyone but you.”

Ben paused, but after a moment, he nodded in acceptance. You were grateful for it. Even though you weren’t quite ready yet, he wasn’t the only one who wanted a family.

While your fractured past and upbringing made it hard for you to move past your fears, your insecurities, you knew that this man made you feel safe.

For the first time in your life, you also felt whole.

Soon enough, you’d be brave too.

AN: That's all, folks. Been a great ride...

Ha! Just kidding. I'm nowhere near done with these two, even with this long-ass epilogue lol.

But honestly, no matter what part of the journey you jumped into with this story, thank you so much for sticking with me until the end. It's truly been one of my favorite stories ever to write. And I'm so glad I got the chance to share it with you. 🥹💚🥹

Read More in the BMD-verse:

There are several more sequel stories listed under the Break Me Down Series Masterlist. Next up is a one-shot taking place a shortly after Part 17, and before this Epilogue:

Summary: You and Ben have tackled the insurmountable together, but no one said the recovery would be easy.

▶️ Next Story: In the Dark

Before you keep reading, please let me know what you thought of the BMD finale! 💚💚

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[trevuorzegras]

━╋ BETTING, PART TWO

summary: in which y/n y/l/n falls for the wrong guy, who turns out to have just bet on her. 2/4

mark estapa makes a bet that y/n will fall for him, for a great price of $100 from his friend, adam fantilli.

strangers to lovers to enemies to lovers.

pairings: mark estapa x fem!reader

prev part

next part

her.

For the next month or so, Dylan, and Y/N had grown closer than ever. In fact he was attending her physical therapy sessions whenever he wasn’t busy with hockey, or classes. She was grateful to have someone by her side, who understood her struggle as to why she hated being away from the ice.

Y/N had friends, of course she did, she was a ray of sunshine. She was amazing to be around, and people knew that. However she didn’t have friends that understood the love she had for skating. Having Dylan around was like a breath of fresh air for her, she finally had someone she could talk about her problems with.

Dylan didn’t mind her ranting, because ultimately he knew how she felt. He couldn’t imagine not being able to skate, let alone not being able to skate for the rest of the year. Y/N enjoyed that Dylan didn’t look at her wiyh pity, like she was just the girl who could no longer preform. He looked at her like she was someone who would recover, and would do something great.

Y/N enjoyed Dylan’s company, just as he had enjoyed hers. He enjoyed her company so much so, that he had invited her to almost all of his games. She attended as many as she could, most were home games. She may not have been able to skate herself, but she enjoyed watching Dylan, and his team.

He had invited her quite a few times to join him at the post hockey party that accrued after every home game, however she always had an excuse. “I’m busy.” “I would love to, but i have early class tomorrow.” “I promised my roommate i’d be home early.” “I’m actually hanging out with my friends tonight.”

She knew her excuses were pathetic, but she couldn’t bring herself to go to parties. Not after all that had happened, she mentally cursed herself for the way it all went down. Her couch told her she wasn’t ready, she told her! She just hadn’t listened. She thought she could do it, but she couldn’t, eventually possibly coasting her the future she wanted.

After what felt like an eternity, Dylan was finally able to convince Y/N to come to a party with him. The conversation had begun just after the two of them left the doctors office, at which her physical therapy sessions were held.

Dylan stopped walking for a moment, causing Y/N’s eyebrows to furrow. She turned towards the boy who stood a few inches taller than her, a look of confusion clear on her features. “Sunshine, i know you will most likely say no, but would you please consider going to the party tonight?” Y/N thought for a second, before shaking her head, “I don’t know, Duker.”

Dylan had a pleading look in his eyes as he turned towards the girl, a look of hope in his eyes, “Please? Come on Sunny! It’s a Saturday!” Y/N looked the boy in his eyes, she watched as he gave her a look. A look that she knew all too well. It was look Dylan gave her when he wanted her to do something with him. She mostly got the look when he wanted her to attend a party. It became a routine of Dylan’s, asking Y/N to come to parties with him, that is.

Y/N took one last look at the boy who still had that same pleading look on his face, before groaning. “Fine! One party, that’s it.” Dylan’s face lit up, and the words that left her mouth, a small squeal leaving his throat as a smile broke onto his face. “You won’t regret it!”

So there Y/N was, a couple of hours later stood in her dorm room, Dylan sat on her bed as she got ready. He couldn’t explain how excited he was that she finally agreed to go to a party with him. Dylan had told his team about the young girl on multiple occasions, however they’ve never seen the girl. They also didn’t know her real name. Dylan had been referring to Y/N as Sunny, or Sunshine since about a week into their friendship.

The entire hockey team had only known the girl as Sunny. That’s what Dylan had always called her in front of them, it never occurred to him that he didn’t ever tell the group her real name, nor showed them a photo of her.

Dylan sat not so patiently on the girls bed, as she finished putting on her lipgloss. Dyan had been complaining none stop since she started getting ready, “Can you hurry up, we’re going to be late.” Y/N rolled her eyes at the boy, a sarcastic smile on her face, “You cannot be late to a party, Dyl.” The forward let out another groan, throwing his head back, causing Y/N to laugh coming out of the bathroom.

As Y/N walks out, she smooths out her tight black leather skirt, the red corset hugging her body tightly. Y/N’s eyes meet Dylan, as his mouth opens slightly. Dylan takes a moment, before he speaks up, “You look great, Sunny. I’m glad you decided to come with me tonight.” Y/N smiled at the boy’s compliment, “Thank you, D. I’m glad i decided to attend as well.”

Eventually Y/N found herself in front of the hockey house, Dylan standing by her side, a soft smile on his face. Dylan asked her if she was ready to go in, to which she nodded. As the duo walked into the house, loud music overtook the girl, her face scanning for any familiar faces.

Y/N hadn’t seen anyone that she recognized, she moved her eyes forward deciding to ignore the unfamiliar feeling in her stomach. She finally moved her eyes forward, as Dylan had come to a stop. She was about to give the boy a confused face until she saw they had stopped in front of a group of guys, causing her face to flush.

“Sunshine, this is some of the guys i’ve been telling you about.” Y/N thought for a moment, before her face lit up, “Oh yes! The team, right, nice to meet you guys, i’ve heard a lot about you all!” Y/N look towards a taller boy, with a slight beard, and damp hair as he spoke, “Nice to meet you, Sunny, is it?”

Y/N laughed for a moment, before looking back up to the group that stood in front of her, “My name isn’t actually Sunny, you guys do know that, right?” One of the guys eyes widened, as he looked towards Dylan, “No we did not know that, we always kind of assumed your name was Sunny, because of the whole Sunshine thing.”

A smile once again takes over her features, as she playfully punched the boy stood beside her. “You never told them my real name, Dyl?” As the boy turns away embarrassed, he groaned, “I thought i did! I guess Sunny, and Sunshine have always just been what i say in front of them.”

Y/N smiled at her bestfriend, throwing her arms around him, pulling him into a hug. Dylan quickly hugged the girl back, before she pulled away, “Well my name is Y/N. Sunshine, and Sunny are just nicknames that Duker has picked up.” Dylan groaned again, “Whatever. I’m going to go get a drink, want anything Sun- Y/N?” Y/N let out a laugh at the boy, before nodding, “Just a water is fine.”

As the boy made his way to the kitchen, Y/N turned her attention back to the group in front of her. To her surprise the guys had already been staring at her, “So you’re who Dylan has been spending his time with?” Y/N blushes slightly at the sudden question, before nodding slightly, “I guess so? We’ve been hanging out a lot more recently, and he takes me to my physical therapy sessions sometimes. I’m sorry if i’ve been taking up all his t-”

The girl was quickly cut off by a boy with fluffy blonde hair, who if she had to guess would be Mark. “No, no. Don’t apologize, we just haven’t really seen Duker hang out with anyone who wasn’t the team. We’re glad he has someone who he can escape with.”

The boy stood beside him, who had assumed her name was Sunny spoke again, “He told us about the accident, we’re really sorry about that. We understand how hard being off the ice is. I can’t even imagine being off ice until next year. That must really suck, huh?”

Y/N looked towards her feet, as she suddenly felt on the spot. She hadn’t thought about the accident much anymore, at least not anywhere outside of physical therapy. Y/N nodded at the boy, “It’s been hard, but if i make sure to keep up with physical therapy, then i should be back the second the new season starts.”

Y/N was grateful when Dylan had finally gotten back with their drinks, him quickly saying something about the kitchen being packed. All she could do was nod, trying to be polite without sounding bitchy.

Y/N didn’t have a problem with Dylan’s teammates, in fact they seemed nice, but the last thing she wanted to do right now was think of the accident. That’s all she had been thinking about the last month or so, everything reminded her of it. The decorations hanging on her walls, the metals from comps, her teammates, everything. She hated the feeling, this feeling she had been feeling for the last month, but slowly it had been going away, with Dylan it was going away.

For what seemed like forever, Y/N followed Dylan around like a lost puppy. She wasn’t afraid to say she stuck by his side, she hadn’t known anyone besides him there. Well she did know the hockey team now, but she definitely wouldn’t say they were friends.

Dylan had decided he wanted to play beer pong with Rutger, Luca and Ethan. Sure enough Dylan had asked her to join, to which she quickly declined. Y/N was never a drinker, even before her accident. She would maybe drink once every couple of months, but now she had honestly sworn off drinking.

him.

Mark stood beside Adam as his eyes drifted to Y/N. He wasn’t sure why, but he was intrigued by the girl. Maybe it was the fact she was a skater? Maybe it was that she was pretty? He may never know what drew him into her.

His thoughts were quickly cut off by Adam, who slapped his arm, “You’re staring.” Mark shook his head, taking one last look at the girl who was now sat on a couch, phone in her hand. “No i am not.”

Luca cut into their conversation by throwing in a quick, “You definitely were.” This caused Mark to let out a groan, throwing his head back against the wall he stood in front of. “Why don’t you ask her out?”

Mark looked towards Adam as if he had three heads, shaking his head quickly, “Absolutely not, dude i just met her!” Luca shrugged at he took a shot at Ethan, and Dylan’s cups, “You won’t ever know her if you don’t ask.”

“He’s right, Mark. She’s my bestfriend, i’m sure she’d say yes. She hasn’t really had time for a relationship, cause of the accident, but with summer coming up, i’m sure she’d like to try.” Adam smirked at Dylan’s words as an idea popped into his head, “Why don’t we make a bet?”

Mark raised his eyebrows at the younger boy, “What kind of bet?” Adam simply shrugged, throwing his arms around the dirty blonde. “I bet you.. Let’s say a hundred bucks, that you can’t get Y/N to fall for you. If she falls, you get a hundred bucks, if she doesn’t.. Then consider me a hundred dollars richer.”

Dylan was the first to protest, “Dude i just said she hasn’t had a relationship in a while, and your first thought is to fucking bet on her?” Adam once again shrugs, bringing Mark closer to him, “Just think about it.”

next part

check out my college hockey masterlist, here!

i’m so excited for this story, you guys actually have no idea. i don’t really ever have opportunities to actually write so i took my chance 🤗 (not proof read.)

taglist | @wnderify @bunbunbl0gs

[wosoimagines]

Captains - Leah Williamson/Reader

part one | part two | part three | part four

prompt: What happens when Captain America and Captain England are roommates?

warnings: none

words: 4317

(Y/N) POV

“I am not rooming with her,” Williamson said as she pointed at me. I rolled my eyes at that. It was true, the two of us had not gotten off to a great start when I joined Arsenal... and we still hadn’t been able to get along even though I had already been playing with the club for nearly two years now. “No way. I’m not dealing with the bad accent. Or her bad attempt at mocking my accent.”

“Listen here, doll, I don’t want to deal with your bad fake southern accent either,” I drawled out. I had purposely thickened my southern drawl for her. “There is a reason why Captain America and Captain England never do room together.”

“I understand that you two don’t get along,” Jonas started out as Leah sent me a glare, “but you’re both the future of this club unless either of you plan on leaving. Do either of you plan on leaving?”

Both Leah and I shook our heads. I knew that Leah was a die-hard Gooner since she was a kid, but I had been as well. It was a dream come true getting to play with Arsenal and I wanted to put them on top.

“Well then, you’ll both have to room together because I can’t have you two at each others throats any longer. While you two have shown that you can be great captains on the national level, I need you to show me that you can put your differences aside off the pitch as well. Especially if you’re both going to be here for the long run.”

All Leah and I could do was watch as Jonas walked away from us. The two of us turned to each other as soon as Jonas went into his own room.

“Look, he’s right,” I said causing Leah to raise a brow. “We should be able to get along. I mean, we work great together on the pitch, so why can’t we off the pitch?”

“You’re doing it again.”

I furrowed my brow in confusion. I had no idea what Leah was talking about.

“You’re mocking my accent.”

I hadn’t even realized that my southern accent had dropped much less that I was copying her accent.

“You ever thought that maybe I’m not mocking it?” I suggested. Leah scoffed as she shook her head at me. “I’ve lived here for the better part of two years now. The only time I go home is during part of the off season and when I have national team duties. It isn’t a stretch to believe that my accent is going to start to change eventually.”

“‘It isn’t a stretch to believe that my accent is going to start to change eventually.’“

I rolled my eyes at her as I pushed past her and into the room that we were sharing. Leah followed me in as she tried talking with my accent.

“You talk too fast,” I said as I turned to face her once I threw my bags on the first bed. Leah paused as she tilted her head at me. “You talk too fast to get mocking my accent down. Slow down how you talk and drawl out your vowels. It’s how to get the drawl right.”

“Whatever.”

Leah pushed past me as she crossed her arms and rolled her eyes but took a seat on the other bed. 

I shook my head as I stared at her. At least I was trying to be friendly. I made sure to grab my key for the room as I headed out. Even if I did have to room with Leah, I could at least spend my time around others who didn’t get upset with me for the slightest thing.

I ended up in front of the door that I knew was Beth and Viv’s room. I rocked myself on the balls of my feet as I waited for one fo them to answer the door. As soon as the door was opened, I pushed my way in.

“I can’t believe her. She seriously drives me mad,” I ranted as I paced in front of the beds. I didn’t pay attention as Viv joined Beth on the bed. “Who the hell does she think she is? I’ve been mostly nothing but nice to her since I transferred here two years ago and all I get in return is mocking? And when I give her some pointers on how to mock me better? An eye roll and a fucking pout. Is she a child?”

“Did Jonas bunk you and Leah together?”

I paused mid step to look over at Beth. I knew that I hadn’t said Leah’s name so I wasn’t sure how she knew that.

“Yeah. How’d you know?”

“You two are so blind to your own feelings about each other all you two ever do is rant about the other,” Beth said with a small shrug.

“I do not.”

“Yeah, you do,” Viv nodded. I shook my head at that because it wasn’t true. “She gets you with a clean tackle and you complain the whole day that it was a foul. You trip her up with your skills and she complains that you get in close enough to knock her off balance.”

“That’s a bullshit lie and she knows it,” I said as I pointed at Viv. “I don’t even touch her.”

“Point is you two talk about each other all the time,” Viv said. That couldn’t be true. “No, I’m serious. All the time.”

“Well it isn’t like I haven’t tried to be nice,” I shrugged. I had made efforts to get to know her. “Leah doesn’t care.”

“She’s had a crush on you since the World Cup,” Beth said. I rolled my eyes at that. It couldn’t be true because if it was then Leah had a funny way of showing it. “And then you were kind of a dick.”

“I was not.”

“You kind of were,” Viv agreed. I huffed at that. “You came over and claimed you would be the best to ever play for Arsenal for a long time. Not only that but everything had to be about you.”

“Everything was about me when I came over,” I pointed out. It was a true statement. Arsenal had fought hard to get me to join them especially since I had been looking to play with other clubs overseas as well. “Everyone has always talked about me as if I’m some savior wherever I go. And if I can’t live up to that? You don’t know what it’s like. To be a kid and be the reason why the national team lost, it isn’t easy especially when you were supposed to be the saving grace. So yeah, it is easier to just give in and embrace the attention and the narrative and then deal with the fallout.”

“You were also pretty harsh to Leah during practices,” Beth added.

“And now she’s an even better defender.”

“That’s not how everyone is always going to see your approach,” Beth said. I shook my head at that because it wasn’t anything personal against Leah, but I needed the best defense to practice against or else I couldn’t improve as much. “Look, all I’m saying is that, to Leah, you’ve always been the cocky American who thought she was better than everyone else.”

“I am better than pretty much everyone else though.”

“That’s the problem,” Viv said. I rolled my eyes at that. It was the truth. “You’re too cocky about it.”

“If I don’t have that, then what do I really have?” I asked. They didn’t get it. “The World Cup? I won it because I’m one of the best. My family? They’re all shit and they kicked me out because none of their kids will be gay and if you are then you ain’t part of the family. All I have is being the best.”

“You could be nicer about it,” Viv said. I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do because it wasn’t like I went around actively bragging about it. I just didn’t deny it. “I get it. Well, I don’t cause I hate exercise honestly, but you hold yourself to a higher standard. But you can’t hold everyone else to the same standard.”

“If you don’t want to be the best, then why are you playing?”

“They teach you that in the States?”

“No, Viv, my father drills it into each of our heads. Okay? All I have is being the best. That’s all I’m worth, so I have to make myself worth it.”

“That’s not all your worth.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I don’t?” Beth asked. “I’ve seen you. You’ve worked with people who really need help. You think we wouldn’t notice that you took on a building project to build homes for people in need? You’ve gone and worked with kids who can’t afford club training. You’re more than just some football player.”

“Then why does no one else see me as more than ‘just some football player’?”

Beth went silent at that. It was also very true. I hadn’t been shy in raising money for charities or even going to help out when I could. I tried to put on as many free football clinics as I could and help where I could. But no one ever talked about that.

“You know how many people I run into that only see me as an athlete and not more? Everyone.” I shook my head. They just didn’t understand. “I went and helped feed those in need and asked one of the other workers if she wanted to go out sometime. She told me yes and then on the date all she tried to talk to me about was soccer. No one, outside of my national teammates could even tell me what my favorite color is.”

“It’s blue,” Viv said. I turned my gaze over to her. “It’s like a deep dark blue.”

“It’s forest green.”

“Okay, so we’re shit teammates.”

“You’re not shit teammates because you don’t know my favorite color, Viv,” I denied. None of them were bad teammates. Just because we weren’t friends outside of the club didn’t make them bad teammates. “But I ask you guys to come and hang out and those of you who do show up don’t try to get to know me. I get left alone to my own devices while the rest of you just invade my apartment to spend time with everyone but me.”

“We do care about you,” Beth said.

“No one said congrats when I won bronze at the Olympics, or when I won the golden boot, or when I won the Ballon D’or,” I pointed out. I hadn’t even received any texts from my teammates. “No one ever said it in person or over texts or anything on social media.”

“Your national teammates did,” Beth said.

“None of you did. The first thing I got asked when I went to the November camp and the first thing I get asked after the first game against Germany? How did I celebrate with my Arsenal teammates,” I explained. I shook my head at that. “I had to lie to them about that, but hey I don’t expect any of you to know that because I doubt any of you even watch my national games.”

“Do you watch ours?” Beth asked.

“Every single game. I congratulated you guys on social media and praised you guys when you won,” I said as I sent her a soft glare. “If I can’t catch them live, I record them.”

“You do?” Viv asked.

“Yeah, I do,” I nodded. Was it really that hard to believe that I was interested in my own teammates performances? “And I’ve made public comments about your performances. All praising them because you’re all amazing players.”

“You left Leah out of the post you made about the Euros,” Beth said softly.

“I took pictures with you and the others. Leah didn’t want a picture with me. That’s not on me,” I shook my head. “And I said congrats to all of my Arsenal teammates.”

“Well, Leah took it the wrong way.”

“Then that’s on her.”

“You should still probably have an actual talk with her. I mean, the rest of us get that you aren’t just some cocky asshole,” Beth shrugged. “But that doesn’t mean that Leah does.”

“And why should I? I’m not exactly craving the desire to get close to someone just to have them kick me out of their life.”

“(Y/N), do you want her to like you or not?”

“You don’t get it, people don’t like me. They tolerate me until I’m not worth anything anymore and then they leave,” I said. I didn’t miss how Beth and Viv shared a look between themselves. “I’m not the only one here. I’m not the only one who needs to make an effort.”

With that, I headed out. Even if I didn’t want to go back to my room, I could at least go hang out in the lobby.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Here,” Leah said as she held out a bag to me. “It might have been brought to my attention that I should extend an olive branch and it shouldn’t be entirely up to you to make the effort.”

“Is it gonna kill me?”

Leah laughed as she shook her head. I hesitantly opened the bag.

“Viv might have told me that your favorite color was forest green.”

“You got me a hoodie?”

“You kept talking about how your old one was getting really old and it had holes in it and that it was mostly worn out,” Leah shrugged.

“So Beth and Viv told you what we talked about?” I asked.

“Well, not all of it,” Leah said. I looked away from her as I held onto the hoodie. “They really just said that I was kind of being an ass and that you aren’t always some cocky American. Which I’m not sure about that, but I figure that the least I could do was extend the olive branch.”

“I appreciate it,” I assured her. Leah softly smiled at me before I pulled the hoodie over my head. “So, how’s it look?”

“Not bad,” Leah said. I grinned at that. “It’d look better on me, but it doesn’t look the worst on you.”

I shook my head at that.

“And you can’t even compliment me.”

“Only in your dreams, (Y/L/N).”

“Oh, trust me, we do a lot more than compliment each other in my dreams,” I muttered under my breath.

“What was that?”

“Nothing to worry that pretty little head about, Williamson.”

“You think my head’s pretty?”

I only shrugged as I got up. I didn’t mind as Leah followed me continuing to ask me if I thought she was pretty or not as I headed up to our room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I groaned as someone knocked on my front door. I really didn’t want to get up. Besides, I hadn’t been expecting anyone since it was already so late at night. Plus, I had training in the morning, and I wanted to get in early so I could get some extra skills work in.

Maybe the person would just go away if I didn’t answer.

The knocking echoed through my house meaning that they were going away. I sighed as I pulled myself up from my couch where I had a random game playing on the TV. Once I got to the door, I pulled it open to.

“What the hell are you doing?” I asked as I grabbed onto the blonde’s arm as I pulled in her inside my house.

“I-I don’t... I mean, I didn’t... I’m an idiot.”

“You’re not an idiot, Leah. However, you are soaking wet, so stay here.”

Leah nodded as I turned and headed to the bathroom. I opened the cabinet under the sink before pulling out a couple of towels. I walked back out to the door before giving one to Leah before I bent down to start wiping up the water that was on my floors.

Leah eventually pulled off her shoes and left them next to the door as I stood up. She was still running the towel over her hair trying to dry it off.

“You should probably get a warm shower,” I said. Leah looked over at me before slowly nodding. “Come on, you can use my shower. I don’t have any shampoo or conditioner or body wash in the guest bathrooms.”

Leah followed me as I headed through the house to my room. I let her into my bathroom before pulling out some fresh towels and sitting them on the sink.

“I’ll leave some clothes for you on my bed. You can throw your clothes into the wash when you get out.”

Leah nodded at that as she wiped at her eyes. It was obvious to me that she had been crying, but I definitely wasn’t going to point that out to her. I closed the door behind me as I exited the bathroom. I went through my dresser and closet before pulling out a pair of my sweatpants and a hoodie for Leah. I also left a pair of my socks on the bed with them. I threw a couple of different packages of unopened underwear and sports bras on the bed for Leah as well.

I immediately headed to my kitchen. I had a feeling that Leah might want some comfort food after all. It was a while as I made a couple of grilled cheese sandwiches as well as some crispy potato bites.

“I didn’t know you could cook.”

I glanced over my shoulder as I grinned at Leah.

“Don’t worry, it’s nothing too fancy. Or too southern for Captain England,” I said as I plated the food and placed it in front of Leah. “Besides I was pretty much on my own at a young age, so I had to learn if I wanted to eat.”

Leah looked down at the plate in front of her before hesitantly lifted the top part of the sandwich.

“Those are obviously potatoes.”

“Obviously.”

“But what the fuck is this?”

“That? That? That is the best grilled cheese you will ever have.”

“This is not a grilled cheese.”

“That is not a grilled cheese. It is the grilled cheese,” I assured Leah. I motioned to the sandwich. “Feta cheese, spinach, bacon, and mac and cheese. It will be the best grilled cheese you have ever had.”

Leah raised an eyebrow, but she picked up the sandwich. I grinned as she took a bite from the sandwich before her eyes widened. I grabbed a plate for myself as I put my sandwich on it and some potatoes.

“That is really good.”

“I told you.”

We both fell into silence as we ate on the sandwiches and potatoes.

“So, is there a reason you showed up outside of my house soaking wet?” I asked, finally breaking the silence.

Leah stayed quiet as she picked at her potatoes. I sighed as I nodded my head at that. I truly hadn’t expected that she answer me, but it would have been nice to know why Leah had suddenly turned up.

“Jordan and I got into a fight,” Leah admitted. I raised my head to look at her. “I think it’s over between us. For good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

I nodded at that. I knew how rough a breakup could be especially when you lived with your partner and you were the one being blindsided by it.

“You can stay here for as long as you want.”

“(Y/N), I couldn’t impose-”

“You wouldn’t be imposing. Not really,” I assured her. I motioned to the space around us in the kitchen. “It’s a big house.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

Leah nodded as she went back to picking at her potatoes.

“Don’t worry about your clothes. We can go pick them up tomorrow. And I’m assuming your car,” I said. Leah looked back up at me and I only shrugged. “I assume you ran here considering you were soaking wet.”

“I just had to get out of there,” Leah admitted. I softly smiled at her. “I didn’t think about grabbing my car.”

“If you were that upset, it was probably best that you didn’t drive.”

“Why are you being so nice to me? I mean, we aren’t exactly friends.”

“Because there was a time in my life when I was alone and I had nowhere to go, and I refuse to turn someone I care about away like I had been.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You know, you’re going to have to cook for me more often now,” Leah said as she took another bite from her breakfast burger.

“It’s just a burger with bacon, egg, and cheese,” I pointed out. Leah rolled her eyes at me. “I mean, I don’t mind having someone to cook for. It’s just that it’s something simple to make that you could probably make it in your sleep. Well, so long as you can make a good burger.”

The two of us fell into silence as we both ate on the sandwiches that I had brought for us.

“You didn’t have to let me sleep in your bed last night,” Leah said as I went to take a bite from my burger. I paused as looked over at her. “I would have been fine on the couch.”

“Trust me, I’ve fallen asleep on the couch more times that I wish to admit. I’m quite used to it. I think I’ve slept more nights on my couch than I have in my bed,” I admitted. Leah raised an eyebrow at that. “Being in such a big house can be lonely sometimes. I don’t like having a TV in my room, so I fall asleep on the couch watching TV so it isn’t so quiet at nights.”

“Have you never had a TV in your room?” Leah asked. I shook my head. “Something else the States taught you?”

“No, not the States,” I denied. Leah tilted her head to the side. I glanced at the clock on my dashboard, we still had a little bit before training was supposed to start. “My... father. My siblings and I weren’t allowed to have TVs in our rooms growing up. We were only allowed to watch stuff approved by him too, so I’ve never exactly been too into movies and shows. So getting a TV for my room when I moved here seemed silly since I didn’t care for any shows.”

“That actually sounds kind of sad.”

“It’s just how he is.”

It didn’t bother me anymore. I guess you couldn’t really miss what you never had.

“What you said last night...”

I turned to look out my window. I wasn’t sure how I felt about Leah knowing about my past. Sure I had told Beth and Viv, but that was different. I didn’t care if they looked at me like I was messed up because of my past. I wasn’t sure if I wanted Leah to look at me that way.

“My parents and I... we had a falling out when I was a teenager. I had scholarships pulled because of how unstable everything in my life was, and every single one of my friends showed their true colors,” I admitted. I scratched the back of my head as I wasn’t sure just how much to tell Leah. “I was homeless for a little bit since I was supposed to leave for college. Then my Stanford scholarship got pulled because false reports about me were made. I immediately made it known that I was looking into going pro rather than college. My reputation was pretty damaged though. I was put on probation with the national team.”

“I... didn’t know that.”

“Most people don’t. All they see are the fancy awards and trophies.”

“I’m sorry it’s like that.”

I shrugged at that. I had grown used to it by now. Besides, there wasn’t anything anyone could really do about it.

“So the big house?”

“Just playing into the narrative, I guess? I decided somewhere along the way that if I was going to be painted as some selfish bad guy, that I could at least enjoy the stuff I was supposed to while I was still helping others.”

“Isn’t it lonely?”

“Sometimes. But that’s what teammates are for. They’re my found family. I’ll always have my national teammates. And I hope that Arsenal is going to be my home for a long time.”

Leah nodded at that. I glanced at the clock on my dash again.

“We should probably go in,” I said, causing Leah to look at the clock before she nodded in agreement. “Don’t want to be late.”

We both got out fo my car before heading in. Both of us still eating on our breakfast burgers. I wasn’t too surprised at everyone who was already in the locker room. I moved away from Leah as I moved to join Beth and Viv who were sitting near Viv’s locker. The two forwards were glancing between Leah and I as I dropped my bag in my locker.

“Hey, isn’t that your hoodie?” Beth asked. I looked over at her before looking over my shoulder at Leah. She was still in the hoodie I had left out for her last night. “The one that Leah gave you?”

“And you both came in together?”

“It’s a long story,” I shrugged. I turned back to my bag. “And it’s not mine to really tell. If Leah wants to tell you, she will.”

“I told you that Captain England and Captain America would get together.”

I rolled my eyes at that because we definitely weren’t together, but maybe this was a start to something that could be more than friends.