#where silence has lease

[neopuff]

rewatching s2 more like "yes this IS an 80s scifi show"

not my most accurate drawing but it made me laugh

[sshbpodcast]

Character Spotlight: Katherine Pulaski

By Ames

We may have only had Dr. Pulaski for one season of The Next Generation, but that didn’t stop her from leaving an impression. Your hosts here at A Star to Steer Her By are big fans of her character and also of Diana Muldaur’s performance of the cantankerous and brilliant doctor who graced the Enterprise-D’s sickbay during Dr. Crusher’s time away from the ship (more on her next week!). She even made a couple of our top characters lists from TNG!

There’s a lot of negative feelings about the McCoy knockoff in the Star Trek community, and we’ll cover some of those below, but overall we have to give credit to the good doctor for how much she grew in only the twenty episodes we had her. By the end of season two, she was viewing Data as a peer, saving lives left and right, and fighting for the rights of other species. There’s no telling how much better she’d get if she stuck around. So raise a cup of Klingon tea to the best CMO of the Enterprise (I said it!) with our highlights below and elaborated upon in this week’s podcast episode (timestamp for this one is 58:29). Fight us, haters.

[Images © CBS/Paramount]

Best moments

Crammed full of crumpets We’ve made a running gag on the podcast about how Professor Moriarty stuffed the doctor full of crumpets in “Elementary, Dear Data” but there’s more to this episode than crude jokes and blue humor. Pulaski ran with the Holmesian scenario in the holodeck, proved to be stalwart and brave in a hostage situation, and totally rocked the period attire!

At least someone still remembers quarantine procedures While the whole thing did backfire on her, Pulaski’s actions in “Unnatural Selection” kept the rest of the crew safe. She was willing to risk her own health on her hunch that the augmented children weren’t carrying any pathogens, but let’s give her credit for taking the child and Data out in a shuttle so that, if (and when) things went wrong, things were contained.

Knives and bearskins! When the biobeds are on the fritz due to the contagion in “Contagion” and her staff is whining that the bone knitter isn’t working, Pulaski pulls some tried and true methods out of her back pocket – make a splint! It may be archaic medical technology, but it’ll do in a pinch and having that kind of medical knowledge saves the day (or saves someone’s leg at least).

Generous doses of PCS I just really love the sweet little moment during “The Icarus Factor” when Dr. Pulaski is tending to some crewmember suffering from the flu and says part of her prescription is PCS – Pulaski’s Chicken Soup. It shows how much she cares about her patients and gives the audience that warm feeling of having someone care for you when you’re home sick from school.

Jettison the emotional baggage you’re still carrying around Also I have to give my girl some props later in “The Icarus Factor” when she’s flirting with Kyle Riker right in front of Will. We find it a nice character inclusion that she and Kyle used to be down to clown, and even that she would have married him in a heartbeat, and she tells his son off in the most “oh no she didn’t!” way and then proceeds to drop like fifty mics all over Ten Forward.

Take your Prime Directive and shove it up your hatch! We on this podcast (who am I kidding; it’s mostly Chris) have a certain skepticism about the Prime Directive sometimes, and it’s usually the CMOs of their respective shows that get to question it most blatantly. Pulaski sure does in “Pen Pals” because screw the prime directive in this case! When a whole planet is on the line, Pulaski is the conscience that we all need!

Forget me, forget me not This is one that could have gone in either the Top Moments or the Worst Moments list because, face it, mind wipes are horrifying. But I’m gonna give Pulaski the win for erasing Sarjenka’s memories in “Pen Pals” because it’s impressive as hell. And she uses it to kinda-sorta stay within the Prime Directive that we just shat on. Plus she let Sarjenka keep the singing rock!

You’re still the Captain. Invincible. I’m still not certain what Chris was getting at about Pulaski’s letting Picard avoid the heart treatment he’s been neglecting out of sheer vanity in “Samaritan Snare,” but I’ll do you one better: she winds up fixing his stupid ticker for him in the end anyway! And is the grouchy little man thankful afterwards? Not even a little bit! Pulaski gets no respect, I tells ya!

Quote me a little of that poetry While you’ll see in just a moment that Pulaski’s views on Klingons were initially unkind, by “Up the Long Ladder,” she’d bonded with Worf enough that she was willing to engage in some Klingon rituals. She goes out of her way to concoct an antidote so she can take part in a poisonous tea ceremony with him, which is above and beyond (and also fuels some shipping), and she also keeps Worf’s measles a secret!

Bust him up, Data! In “Peak Performance,” it’s Pulaski who sets up the Strategema match between Data and Sirna Kolrami, and she ends up feeling really bad for goading him when he loses to that smug Zakdorn prick. So it’s that much sweeter that she’s there cheering him on when Data thinks outside the box causes the stalemate, telling him that in that way, he did indeed beat him!

Feelings of warmth and friendship What a shame that the last episode we got with this amazing character was one of the most infamously bad. But none of that is on Pulaski because she’s actually on full display in “Shades of Grey,” partly because she’s one of few characters in the non-clipshow scenes. But she (and Troi, as I brought up last week) pulled out all the stops to save Riker’s brain from certain doom.

Pull your head out of your ass! Okay, this last one’s not canon, but I just couldn’t help including this plug to go read Caitlin’s fanfic “The Pulaski Maneuver”!!! Or listen to it on the podcast back when we wrapped TNG with our episode “Tales from the Holodeck.” Pulaski finally telling Geordi everything that he’s deserved to hear might be my favorite moment, and it’s so in her character that I say it counts!

—

Worst moments

The cold hand of technology Most of Pulaski’s negative personality traits are going to circle around her treatment of Data as a piece of equipment and not an individual. In her introduction episode, “The Child,” one of her early interactions with Data is to tell him he’s not wanted in the delivery room because he lacks the human touch. Lucky for us, Troi sticks up for him and he gets to watch her whelp an alien baby.

One is my name; the other is not Shortly afterwards, still in “The Child,” we get one of the fandom’s most hated moments from Pulaski when she not only mispronounces Data’s name, but doesn’t seem to understand that doing so is rude and problematic, instead deciding to put the onus on him for being capable of offense. It’s a tough moment for fans to accept, and if that were the level of bigotry her character stayed at, I’d understand why so many Trekkies dislike the character.

I’m not accustomed to working with non-living devices More growing pains come from Pulaski in “Where Silence Has Lease,” in which she refers to Data as “it” and Picard has to gently correct her. We’re two episodes into the season at this point, and Pulaski is still finding it difficult to accept the personhood of this fan-favorite character, something viewers pretty much got on board with in episode one. At least she apologized.

The mystery of the lack of any mystery Here we are, three episodes in when we reach “Elementary, Dear Data” and we see more of Pulaski judging Data for being incapable of thinking creatively when he solves Holmesian riddles. We may have blamed Geordi for accidentally creating Moriarty when we covered his character spotlight, but it was definitely Pulaski who goaded them on in the first place.

Medical research is sometimes a risky business While we may have praised her above for not putting everyone else at risk when she released the augmented child from his wrapper in “Unnatural Selection,” Pulaski was still dead wrong about the experiment being at all safe. She still got contaminated by the fast-aging disease and was resigned to her fate until Picard and O’Brien were able to transport her back. Speaking of which…

I’m a doctor, not an original character One rather understandable complaint we can see in the Pulaski character is that she’s just Dr. McCoy in a skirt. Which may not be a bad thing, per se, but when we see her racism against the outsider character, her Bones-like irascibility, and even her specific fear of transporters in “Unnatural Selection,” we start to wonder if the writers couldn’t have been a little more original.

I’m just glad that humans have progressed beyond the need for barbaric display We get a couple glimpses that Pulaski is a little repulsed by Klingon culture throughout the show. First, in “A Matter of Honor,” she’s grossed out by Klingon cuisine and calls Klingons barbaric, and not in the way Klingons would probably like. And she also gets a little smug after watching Worf’s Age of Ascension ceremony in “The Icarus Factor,” which she seemed pretty judgey about (but hey, at least she went!).

Quit cloning around! We gave Riker some guff for this as well in his character spotlight, and there’s enough guff to go around to give to Pulaski as well for their actions in “Up the Long Ladder.” Sure, the clones were made of them without their consent, but to take matters into their own hands and murder these people without discussion is not the Starfleet way.

Never to be heard from again… Obviously the worst character moment for us is Pulaski leaving the show after just one season. Notice how most of the bad moments come from earlier and the good moments are mostly from the latter half of the season. That shows how much the character was getting better, even in the rough first couple seasons of the show (you’ve heard our coverage of Chaos on the Bridge, right?). And while many celebrate the return of Crusher, we still have to wonder what the show would be like with more Dr. Pulaski.

—

And just like that, she’s gone and so is this blogpost. Keep following along because we’ve got another doctor of the Enterprise-D to discuss next week, and it’s not Selar! We also hope you’re making the schlep through Enterprise with us as we cover the whole thing over on SoundCloud or your podcast platform of choice. Wave your medical tricorders over our Facebook and Twitter pages, and get the pronunciation right: It’s Data, not Data!

[fakedtales]

It’s Monday, it’s time for Casual Trek and today we’re embracing the cosmic horror that lurks under the surface of so much Star Trek.

Star Trek: The Original Series’ “Immunity Syndrome” brings us a space amoeba which drains the life force of everything around it. This sounds terrifying, especially as it starts with the destruction of a solar system’s worth of people. Can it keep up the terror when the main result is the crew getting sleepy? And how catty can Spock get with McCoy when they both want to be Kirk’s special boy and sacrifice themselves?

Star Trek: The Next Generation’s “Where Silence Has Lease” has a malevolent force in space who seems way too into killing the crew of the Enterprise. Is the best solution killing themselves first? Apparently so.

Enterprise’s “Impulse” gives us a very logical zombie apocalypse as some nearby asteroids give a Vulcan ship way too many feelings. Can the crew escape with their lives, especially as T’Pol’s showing signs of infection?

https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/casual-trek/episodes/A-Face-in-Space-e2l777j

[filmjunky-99]

r e m e m b e r i n g

Earl Boen

8 August 1941 – 5 January 2023

⚘️

[pic: boen as nagilum, where silence has lease, tng]

[riotdyke]

Best Star Trek alien. Nothing beats this.

[eleftherian]

not nagilum reading picard for filth 😭😭😭

[perrin-aybaras-hammer]

I want to start a gimmick blog about characters i want to transfeminize and trans reading of fictional men.

I also want to start a gimmick blog comparing how scary horror movies are compared to how much Star Trek: The Next Generation Season Two Episode Two "Where Silence Has Lease" scared me as a kid.

[captain-huggy-bear]

Scratchy

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: MDNI 18+, smut - lil' spicy, lil' racy, lil' bit of Lottie is feeling touch starved and it shows 😅 Not for the kiddos at all! Get off my lawn!

Summary: Quinn will do most things to make you laugh, his favourite thing about growing out his beard is the fact that it's a weapon of mass destruction when breaking that laugh out of you. It also makes you a little weak at the knees and hot behind the collar too which is a bonus.

Notes: I haven't kissed someone in 3 years, okay? I miss the scratch of a beard and Quinn has such a good beard at the moment, leave me alone! Don't judge me, just enjoy the fruits of my imagination.

Also Merry Xmas/Happy Holidays for tomorrow, this is my present to you all :) xx

Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :)

Writing Masterlist

It's a still sort of evening, the sort of dim, cozy quiet that only ever seems to happen when the night is dark, and you've made your way back to Quinn's apartment after a date to the silence of his apartment.

The lights are low, but warm because Quinn had changed all the bulbs to a soft amber after you expressed how much you missed the warm glow of the old street lights from your childhood. You're curled up underneath Quinn's arm on his white sofa, both of you pretending you're watching Home Alone but really it's just white noise as the two of you cuddle up together. The TV taking a background role to the two of you, the main actors in this play.

Technically, you should consider getting your shoes on, grabbing your jacket and going back to your apartment, the clock ticking closer and closer to 11pm, but you both know that's not going to happen. It's a Saturday and Sunday means no work for you, Quinn has a bit of a gap before he has another game, and there's absolutely zero urgency or desire from you to leave the spot you're in. You've never been more comfortable.

Every date night goes the same way. Quinn picks you up from your apartment, bringing flowers to the door and wowing over your outfit. Looking at you like it's the first time as he calls you beautiful or pretty or any other compliment he can think of, before taking you to dinner somewhere the two of you have been wanting to try. Dinner is always fun, the two of you bantering back and forth, feet hooking together under the table, and hands twisted together on the tablecloth whenever you're not eating. Then Quinn always asks if you want to come back to his for a movie, every single time you say yes as he helps you into your coat and into his car. Like clockwork you always end up curled up together on the sofa, something playing in the background that neither of you are really paying attention to and like always you end up staying the night, the spare toothbrush now not spare, but yours, and a couple of drawers holding your essentials for the inevitable sleepover. Sometimes Quinn jokes that you might as well move in, except it's not really a joke and you both know that the minute your lease is up you'll do just that.

Quinn's cheek is pressed into the crown of your head as you lay back together across the sofa, your legs are tangled like tree roots, one of his hands resting on your thigh that's slung over his lap, the other wrapped around your shoulders, fingers brushing soothing circles into your upper arm. Your eyes feel heavy in that soft, comfortable sort of way, not sleepy but relaxed as you lean into the crook of his neck, pressing the odd kiss to his shoulder every so often - lazy, content, sweet.

He loves moments like this, where he's not captain, just Quinn, just your boyfriend. Where he can watch the way your shoulders relax around him, feel the softness of your skin beneath his fingertips, the press of your lips to his shoulder. It's that sort of slow intimacy that has him tilting your head towards him, hand cupping your cheek as you rearrange yourselves to face each other.

"You're so pretty, baby..." It's a mumble, soft and sweet, his bottom lip poking out just ahead of his top. You're tempted to catch it between your own but don't get a chance before he's pressing his lips to your forehead, dragging them down across your temple and cheek.

The scratch of his beard tickles slightly and it has you twitching and pursing your lips to contain a giggle. That little shake of your shoulders as you try to hide it has Quinn stopping just shy of your lips, hovering in place with that delectable smirk of his that he gets from time to time (but not often enough).

"Does my beard scratch, baby?"

"Nooo..." You deny it even as he teasingly brushes his cheek against yours, purposefully brushing the bristles of his beard against your skin until you squirm in his lap, twisting yourself up and above him to avoid it. Your hands planted firmly on his chest as if that will keep him away from you and keep your skin free of beard burn. As if you're strong enough to stop him if he truly wants something.

It's not a sensation you actually dislike despite the way you scurry out of his reach, in fact, he knows you love when he grows out his beard. The scratch of it always sends little shivers down your spine, but it sets your nerve endings off in a way that always makes you giggle like a little kid. It's cute, has been since the first time he kissed you and you pulled away laughing in such an endearing way he couldn't even be offended.

Quinn doesn't let you scurry away for long, flipping the two of you until you're on your back underneath him, he shifts a pillow under your neck as he does so. A small gesture but one that speaks volumes about his priority of making sure you're always comfortable. His hands bracket your head, nose brushing against yours as he stares down at you under his lashes, big eyes softening at the corners. He's so beautiful that you think you might combust in that moment, having all his attention on you like that makes you squirm.

"You're such a liar. This doesn't scratch? At all?" He doesn't give you much time to answer. Long fingers and wide palm of his hand gently encircling your neck, thumb hitting just underneath your jaw, holding you in place as he scrapes his face against yours roughly, the scratch of his beard across your cheek forcing a giggle from your throat that has him stopping briefly just to savour it. It's one of his favourite sounds.

The reprieve doesn't last long, Quinn moves, rubbing his cheek down from your own to the sensitive skin of your neck. Your legs kicking out at the sensation, fingers grasping the back of his shirt as you laugh harder, despite all protests you lean your head away to give him more room.

"Oh, yeah, this totally doesn't scratch! Not a tickle, huh? Such a liar, pretty girl." He rubs his beard across your neck and shoulder, the sensation has your toes curling, a hand sliding up his neck and into his hair, fingers gripping tight to silky brunet strands.

"Quinn!" You laugh it out, but there's a hint of desire riding your tone, eyelids fluttering closed. The scratch of his beard, one of your guilty pleasures, a secret you think you have kept well, but that Quinn knows all about. Has ever since the first time he shaved and your eyes held nothing but disappointment that you tried your best to hide, same way he knows you love when he keeps his hair a little longer. You're terrible at poker.

"Nuh, this is your punishment for lying to me!" He stops briefly to press a kiss into the underside of your jaw, even then his beard scratches as he does it, an inescapable sensation that has your fingers tightening in his hair, "Not really a punishment though is it, baby?"

"Shut up..." You mumble it out, embarrassment riding your tone even as your toes curl and your back arches into him, a leg rising to wrap around his and pull him closer.

"Oh, what? Cause you're embarrassed? My pretty girl's embarrassed that she likes my beard?" He brushes his cheek back against yours again for emphasis, nose trailing across your cheek.

"Quuiiinnnn..."It's an embarrassed sort of whine you let out as you turn your head into the pillow behind you, cheeks warm as a squirm out of embarrassment and something like desire winds its way to your stomach.

His fingers grip your jaw, turning your face back towards him, not allowing you more than a moment to hide away from him. Quinn's lips find their way to yours, open mouthed and soft as he captures your bottom lip between his. He lowers himself down to you, body squishing yours into the sofa, hips rocking against yours in a targeted fashion. You pull at his hair as you writhe beneath him, legs trying to pull him closer, a sigh breathed against his mouth like a prayer.

"You were saying?"

"Shut up..." It's an absent sort of mumble, unable to really think of anything else to say when he's this close to you, this warm, when all you really want is for him to kiss you again.

"Is that the only thing your pretty little head can come up with right now?" He's being mean as he squishes your cheeks together, lips a breath from yours as he mimicks you, "'Quinn!' 'Shut up!'"

"You're being mean..." You pout even as the familiar burning twisting sensation stirs in your gut, even as you struggle not to wiggle your hips against him and pull him in for a kiss.

"I guess I should get off you then, since I'm so mean?" He starts to move away, your head shaking vehemently no at the illusion of distance, "Oh, no? Thought I was mean?" Quinn attempts to push off and move away from you, arms defined and strong, straightened up next your head as he pretends to pull off you.

"Stay, please?" Your legs lock around him like a vice as he attempts to back up and put distance between you under the pretence of leaving, teasing you even as he has absolutely no intention of actually going anywhere.

"Is that all you want, sweet girl? Just me to stay right," he punctuates the end of his sentence with a roll of his hips back between yours "here?" He's rock hard against you, but he doesn't really care, this isn't really about him, it's about you and all he wants is to get you off. He could care less if he cums tonight. Not when you're whining into his neck and looking up at him like you might cry if he pulls away from you right now. Clingy and needy, desperate for him in a way that has his heart. He loves the idea that its him you want, only him, that no one else can fill that space.

Your neck almost cracks with how rapidly you shake your head, because as much as you want him to stay pressed against you, warm and heavy and delicious, you're not sure if that's enough anymore. Not when Quinn's commanding your attention, domineering over you like the captain he is.

"Use your words, baby, 'm not a mind reader, can't read that pretty little brain of yours." It's breathed out against the shell of your ear, the first stop before his lips trail down the side of your neck. This time the scratch of his beard is anything but funny, a little whimper leaving your throat as he sucks a hickey into your neck, one he's determined to make stay for at least a week, next to the beard burn you're definitely going to have as well.

"Want you, Quinny" Your fingers make their way back to his hair, its grown out so far in the season, long enough for you to tug on it when his own long fingers slide between you and tap your sternum.

"I'm right here, baby." It's frustrating and even more so as you squirm because you can feel his smirk against your neck, know he's purposefully acting like he doesn't know that you want his fingers in you.

"No, want you." you try to emphasis the point without words, too shy, always too shy to say what you're actually thinking and wanting and it always gets to Quinn. God, you're so fucking cute, how you refuse to tell him even while you're rutting against him and tugging on his hair.

"Here?" His fingers slip further down, hand pressed against your belly before slipping around to your waist, grip tight but not enough to leave marks.

You shake your head again, frustration building as you try to wiggle his hand lower.

"No? Mmm.." A kiss lands on the front of your throat and down to the dip where your sternum starts, while his hand moves again this time to your outer thigh, pulling you leg tighter against his hip, "Here?"

"Baby..." your voice actually cracks and breaks and when he pulls back to look at you there are tears in your eyes, frustrated tears that get to him and make him more than a little weak for you. He loves you too much to keep teasing you, pressing a kiss to your lips before mumbling against them.

"Oh, I see, you want me here instead, huh?" Quinn presses his thigh up between your legs, pressing firm against your cunt. You really can’t help it as you roll your hips against the intrusion, the fabric of your underwear brushing against your sensitive clit with each roll. It's an attempt, an effort to find some sort of friction, some sort of relief from the desire that burns in your belly and has your panties slick.

"Sweet girl wants to ride my fingers till she gets off? I got you, baby, don't worry." He doesn't expect a response and he doesn't get one, not really, just a babbling mess of words that broadens his smirk because you’re so pretty rutting against his thigh as you lie underneath him. You tug at his hair so hard he nearly hisses, but he's taken worse hits in a game before and he'd let you pull all his hair out to hear the way you whine under him.

Quinn's mouth covers yours at the same time as his hand slides up your thigh, long fingers pushing your panties to the slide quickly. Even quicker is the way he slides one finger into you, thumb seeking your clit in double time, as you moan into his mouth, hips wriggling against his hand.

"You're so fucking wet, baby, this all for me?" He murmurs it against your lips, thumb circling your clit as he presses a second finger into you, curling them until he finds that spongy little spot inside you, the spot that has you crying out his name and gasping for air, back arching off of the sofa and towards him.

There's not much mercy from Quinn as he thrusts his fingers into you, each time determined to curl against that same spot, his lips kissing from your mouth to behind your ear, sucking and licking hickies into your skin like your his own personal Monet painting.

It’s a third finger stretching you open, eased by the sheer amount of wetness that you drip with, and the way his beard scratches at the delicate skin of your neck, creating a shivery sort of delight through you, that has you cumming so hard and so fast that you think he might have broken a world record. You're gripping so tight around Quinn's fingers that he worries he might lose circulation in them.

You whine and moan his name so loud that he’s grateful he lives alone, no roommates, no brothers, no parents. Your body shivers and rolls, tensing and relaxing as your orgasm rolls through you in waves, as Quinn works you through it, thumb rubbing your clit and fingers still working against you but more gently this time, careful of your overstimulated nerves. “Fuck, there we go, I got you, baby...look at you, so fucking pretty."

Your hips jerk away from his touch, overstimulated and overly sensitive, Quinn lets you push his hand away, drags it out of your panties and catches your eye as he slips his fingers into his mouth, sucking you from his skin. He hums like you're the sweetest thing he's ever tasted and in his opinion you might just be.

His hand, still wet from his spit, cups your cheek gently. You press your cheek into it, eyes blinking up slowly at him as he rubs soft circles there. Soft and tender as he waits for you to catch your breath and come back down from it all, as his eyes watch you for any ounce of discomfort.

“You okay, baby?”

"Mmm...?" Quinn can't help but chuckle at the way you look up at him a little dumb smile on your face, eyes half-lidded and hazy. He’d be worried if I hadn’t seen that look on your face before.

"That good, huh? Got you a little stupid, baby?"

"Mmmm..." Quinn presses soft kisses across your face. Hitting the high points of your cheeks, the top of your forehead, the tip of your nose and the end of your chin. Careful as he helps you come down from it all, you start coming too a little, worried as you call out that he hasn't cum yet and he just shushes you. Tells you this wasn't about him, that he's fine and really, he is. He's happy just servicing you tonight, he knows he'll get his reward in the morning, the soft sort of sex that's all tender and sweet, the best kind.

He eases himself off you, even as you whine about it, hands and fingers grabbing at him, trying to pull him close again, always clingy after you cum.

“Need to get you cleaned up and ready for bed, baby...'m not goin' anywhere, don't worry.” Quinn's hands find yours, pulling you up with him as he stands from the sofa.

He's gentle as he guides you and your wobbly legs to the bathroom, as he helps you undress fully and stand under the warmth of the shower. His hands soft as he washes between your legs and over your sweat soaked skin, pressing soft soothing kisses into the beard burn and hickeys across your neck, even as he smirks proud of himself, of the marks he's left on your skin, claiming you as his for anyone to see.

He's careful as he washes your hair and helps you remove your makeup that has smudged. He's steady and sure as he helps you into one of 'your' favourite t-shirts, one you stole from him and claimed months ago.

You breathe out a soft sigh when you finally curl up under the covers with him, his body engulfing yours in his arms, pulling you back tight against him. You feel safe, so utterly at peace that it doesn't take long for you to fall asleep in Quinn's arms, even as he keeps his eyes on you with a soft smile, more than happy to stay awake just a little longer, just to capture this moment for a little while.

[ronearoundblindly]

Lease

best-friend!roommate!reader x Steve Rogers

*This was a totally random and spontaneous idea. Not edited. Light language (so we can get *the joke*), pining, light angst, hurt/comfort, and fluff. This work is for all ages! WC ~2k

Sam Wilson introduces you. Both your parents were veterans and active at the VA, so you practically grew up there.

At first, you’re reserved, a little formal, but very nice. Oddly enough, Steve just likes that you don’t hound him with questions about his military service and how it was different based on the decade, etc. You are just…around to listen.

He finds himself filling any (comfortable) silence between you with stories. Stupid things. Things that don’t have to do with the VA or his past or even his present, which is entirely work as Captain America.

Steve gets to a point where he is itching to live off of Avengers Campus, but he doesn’t want to live alone.

One day he finds you hunched over a laptop and grumbling, “why is everything so fucking expensive?”

A sentiment which, of course, he frowns at.

“Sorry,” you shrug, a look of sincere apology on your distraught face. “I didn’t realize it, but apparently, I’m poor with my measly three-thousand-dollar-a-month budget for an apartment. Now I have to find a roommate, and—“ you start wagging a finger at him sarcastically “—I don’t know if you’ve noticed there’re some real weirdos out there. It’ll take me longer to find a safe, stable roomie than it takes to—“

“I can move in with you.”

Steve almost gasps at how fast the words fly out of his mouth.

“Well, not ‘move in’ to your current place. I mean. I can—I would be willing to live with you. Sorry! That sounds bad. You’re not bad. I meant…you know, anytime you want to chime in and stop me would be helpful.”

You remain silent and smirking.

“Right. Okay. So…think about it? Or not, that’s fine.”

“Let’s talk figures, Rogers. The square-footage just doubled, and I need to rework the budget.”

Moving in is shockingly uneventful. You’re easy to get along with, when not suddenly up on your high horse about something, and Steve is easy to get along with under the same circumstances. You push his militant rigidity to the brink on purpose, but never too far.

Things sit out in the wrong place, but it’s never dirty. Stuff doesn’t always get returned promptly, but if he asks, you’re on it.

There are two bathrooms, thank mercy.

He has random and odd hours. You work nine to five, mostly. It’s the perfect level of independence without loneliness for Steve.

Sam and Natasha stop by regularly or ask you both out for drinks or to fun, new places.

One time, when Nat is ribbing Steve to go talk to a cute girl ordering at the bar, he panics and takes your hand in his on the tabletop.

“How can I do that when my date is right here?” he grits playfully through his pearly white teeth. “Leave it alone.”

Each word is punctuated by a shift forward and a slight tilt of his head.

Natasha is unamused and instantly grabs your other hand (which was holding your drink) to pull you toward the dance floor.

It’s awkward for multiple reasons. You’d pay a whole month’s rent to know what Sam and Steve talked about after you left.

Sam takes a different approach, luring—or attempting to lure—Steve into setting up just one dating profile online.

“You don’t have to put photos,” Sam assures, “and you can stick with your first name only. I swear to you, man, this’ll be good for you. Get you out there more. Help me out here, Tagalong!”

He turns to you for support. To be fair, you did quite literally tag along with your parents for years to the VA, and it stuck. Why it sticks as a grown-ass adult? You’ll never know. You just don’t mind Sam Wilson saying it because he means well and never uses it in public.

“Uh, nooooo.”

Sam’s face falls. “What?”

You look at Steve and grimace, clicking your tongue. “He’s not ready for that,” you conclude.

Steve jumps out of the chair, arms wide with victory.

“THAT’S WHAT I’VE BEEN SAYING!”

“I know you told her to say that,” Sam shouts back.

“Did not,” Steve barks.

“He did not.” You lean against your bedroom doorframe. “I just think it’s obvious.”

That makes Steve deflate a little. “Wait, but…I’m not that bad.”

“Oh gosh,” you fake with a huge smile, “look at the time! Gotta be off to bed…”

The men keep fighting albeit muffled from your side of the wall. The only part you can make out before giving them privacy is Sam, whining, “but you actually like bubble baths and walks on the beach, dude. You’re gonna be money on there.”

“Hey, why do you not, ya know, date?”

You look up from your breakfast, stunned because that came out of nowhere. You’ve lived together over six months now, and Steve hasn’t asked for one iota of personal—well, romantically personal—information.

Twiddling your fork around, you think.

“I always imagine what my parents would think of him, any guy I’ve ever considered being with longterm, and…I was just never proud to say ‘here, here’s the one,’ I guess.”

Your parents have been gone for years. You value their opinion anyway.

“Mhm,” Steve hums, “the one?”

You take a bite of food, straightening your back, tossing a dismissive hand in the air. “Yeah, if you believe in that sort of thing.”

He’s quiet for a while.

“So you’re waiting for the right partner?” Steve finally mutters, and he watches your noncommittal gesturing intently.

That was a ‘yes.’

Natasha knows. Sam knows. Steve suspects but won’t admit to anything. You are kind and unreadable.

You’ve always been kind, so there’s no discernible difference to signal you have feelings for him in return. He can’t bring himself to be anything less than a gentleman at home and makes absolutely no moves to find out.

He stays out in the living room a lot more, all hours, hoping you’ll mention staying in for a movie, praying you’ll be tired enough to fall asleep on his lap on the couch.

He’s in way too deep.

What Steve suspects is that it would be too awkward to start anything while living together, but he doesn’t want to leave you in the lurch for rent or a roommate. He also desperately doesn’t want to move out. The status quo is comfortable.

He loves being comfortable with you.

The stress of not telling you, while needing to make some sort of arrangements should telling you blow up in his face, starts to wear on him.

Steve is a pro at compartmentalizing his life, so it’s when he’s stuck at the apartment without any missions, a handful of meetings, and a team that all have lives for two long months that he cracks…in the least attractive way.

He’s messed up his sleep schedule with worry and playing innocent, and out of the not-so-blue, a horrible, vivid nightmare hits him. Steve isn’t even on the mattress anymore by the time he figures out there wasn’t carpet like this in Germany and the desk chair he grips is not a motorcycle.

“Rogers,” he hears. “Rogers, can you look at me?”

The dark room is somehow hollow and stifling all at once. His head turns slower than his brain tells it to.

Steve blinks.

“Do you know where you are?”

“Hey, sweets,” he husks from a dry throat. “What…”

“Can you tell me where this is?” You step closer and pry one of his hands off the mesh to cradle in yours. “Where are we, Rogers?”

“Home.” He swallows. “Our home.”

Your smile doesn’t reach your eyes, but you nod like he’s done well.

“Okay, Steve, I’m going to get you some water. If you want—“ your fingers smooth over the back of his hand, nudging the other to release the chair “—you can sit on the bed.”

You don’t leave. You don’t even get up from the floor.

He doesn’t notice he’s clutching your hands, shaking slightly until long seconds go by.

“Yeah. Okay.” Steve lets go, otherwise unmoving, contemplating how he ever thought the semi-rough industrial carpet felt the same as mud.

You carefully hand him the water and rub his back, using your nails to trace invisible patterns. He can’t remember what he was so scared of a minute ago. He only knows he’s sweating that empty kind of confused.

“What’s that supposed to do?” he asks absently.

You shrug. “Eh. Back scratches just feel good.”

Steve’s mind remains blank as he sips his water.

: We need to renew the lease soon. Like this week.

Steve has stalled as long as humanly possible; he is officially not being a gentleman now. He is a coward.

: Talk about it when I get home?

: Could you at least tell me if this is a hard NO on staying here or just some concerns/questions? : I don’t get why you’re being like this.

Steve gets it, but he hates it.

: I’ll be back tonight. Should I pick up food?

: ffs : Fine. Whatever you want.

Steve also hates when you’re mad at him…which has been happening more and more.

He’s been distant, he refuses to let Sam or Nat come around for fear they’ll play match-maker and ruin the whole thing, and he is about to ruin the whole thing anyway.

Because he is not smooth. Because he is not prepared. Because he’s built up this perfect and amazing, sweep-you-off-your-feet moment.

And he bungles it.

“Out with it,” you command, haughtily yanking your portion of food from the countertop beside him, heading for the dinette.

“I want to be with you,” he blurts.

“Thank god,” you sigh, settling in your spot. “So we’ll go down to the office and sign in the morning. I don’t want there to be an issue if you’re off to wherever for who-the-hell-knows how long on the date the thing expires.”

“No, I…” but Steve’s voice is too quiet.

“There’s only a tiny window where they’re open before I have to head to work, so let me physically sign first, right? Then I gotta go.”

“Sure,” he slurs.

“Steve?” You turn to see him staring down at his food. He’s still across the room. “Are you okay?”

“I said I—I meant that—“ he huffs out his breath and taps his fist on the counter “—I meant that I’m an idiot,” he finishes softly.

Approaching with that beautiful, open-hearted kindness that haunts his days and soothes his night, you cross to him, scratching his back just the way he’s grown to crave.

“Think you might be hangry,” you chuckle.

He cannot do this. Steve is hanging on by a thread until the graze of your hand slides down his forearm to take his plate, and he spins.

He’s thought about kissing you so many times, he mapped out the angles he’d have to hold himself at, how far he needs to lean to get to you, the care to take wrangling in his strength and sheer excitement.

Steve Rogers is good at planning, at least, this part.

Gentle pecks of his plush lips to yours leave gaps in contact that let you whimper, and he fears you stopping him. He presses, wrapping his arms around you and molding your bodies together. The linoleum of the kitchen floor makes sticky sounds beneath your shuffling feet, squeaking once you hit the adjacent wall.

The force of that knocks your frozen arms into his chest, and painfully, Steve relents to step away, but not far. He bites his bottom lip and tastes the balm from yours, his head tilted in shame but fiery eyes watching you from beneath long lashes.

“Oh,” you breathe out. “Oh…you meant…”

Steve’s tongue darts out hungrily.

“Yeah.”

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

They're soooo cute!!!!!!

[rikerxworf]

that's Where Silence Has Lease for you baby!!!

Worf and Riker at the start of TNG s2ep2

Gay

[sshbpodcast]

Episode 69: Experience Points

TNG: "The Child" and "Where Silence Has Lease"

This week is all about alien lifeforms trying to understand humanity, and neither of them go about it in a way that isn’t terrible! First up, Troi gets impregnated by a mysterious light-being in “The Child”, an episode so bad we mostly talk about how we learned where babies come from. After that, an extraterrestrial face uses the Enterprise crew as lab rats in “Where Silence Has Lease”.

Also this week: Season 2 changes, the history of Scrooge McDuck, and possibly our longest outro yet.

Content warning: nonconsensual impregnation and all that entails.

CORRECTION: DONALD DUCK'S SISTER IS NAMED DELLA, NOT DAHLIA

Timestamps: synopses: 1:00; The Child: 2:30; Where Silence Has Lease: 38:50

[cyberteez]

pt.1 - pretty

pairing ⋆ seonghwa x afab!reader

genre ⋆ smut, angst

wc ⋆ 2.6k

summary ⋆ when money is tight and rent is short, you and your partner turn to posting adult content online.

warnings ⋆ reader has anxiety, money troubles, unprotected sex, slight oral fixation, top!seonghwa, bottom!reader, creampie, multiple orgasms

networks ⋆ @illusionnet @cromernet @pirateeznet

series masterlist

"Rent's short again."

A sigh.

"I can't use my credit card again."

Silence fills the kitchen as the pair face each other. Your gaze flickers between the bills present on your dimly lit computer screen and the man that sits across from you. His polished nails drag slowly through his scalp, face contorting as he thinks.

"Well… what are we going t-" you begin.

"I don't know, pretty," he interjects, pushing air between his teeth.

Seonghwa backs away from the counter, his steps heavy as he exits the room. Disappearing down the hallway, you hear the slam of a door. Your hands cradle your face, eyes welling with unshed tears as you shut the laptop lid. This isn't what you expected when you had agreed to move in with him. To no fault of either of you, your landlord decided to raise the rent midway through your lease, straining your finances to the max. Even working nearly fifty hours in a week wasn't enough to cover your expenses in the more affluent neighborhood you had settled into. Stress ate away at your very being, leaving you cold and anxious all the time.

Seonghwa reappeared in what felt like hours. You had curled up on the couch soon after he hid himself away, blankets bunched around your figure, exhausted sleep overtaking your mind with ease. He settled next to you on the cushion, hand coming to pet your hair till you stirred. A whimper left your mouth as you stretched your legs, shifting to lay against him.

"I'm sorry," he said lowly.

"S'fine," you mumble in response.

Seonghwa stays silent for a few minutes, continuously petting your hair, untangling knots and dragging his blunt nails against your scalp. When he does speak, it surprises you. "I think I know a way to get the money."

"How?"

"You know how we've taken videos of each other?"

Your mind blanks, thinking back to times where you recorded his silly reaction to dragon's breath, or times he's taken videos of the two of you riding amusement park attractions.

"Be more specific?" You query, still not picking up what he's hinting at.

"Like… like us. In the bedroom," he sheepishly remarks.

"Ah." Is all you can manage at first. Then, "you want us to post our sex life online? Like making porn?"

His face turns a delicate shade of red as you look up at him. A giggle worms its way from your mouth, Seonghwa joining in as soon as he realized you weren't upset.

"Yea, we can do that," you answer. "You act as if we haven't chatted about this before."

It was true. The pair of you had considered it in the past, but the fear of being found by friends, family, potential or current employers were enough to make you halt. Now, the notion of being homeless and in debt outweighed anything else.

"So we're gonna become amateur porn stars, huh."

It wasn't hard to get the right supplies. You basically had everything you needed anyway. Seonghwa proposed a first person point of view during the videos, to make it feel more intimate. You had no objections.

Dressed in the prettiest and shortest pink skirt you owned and a cute cream top, you sit patiently on the bed, waiting for your lover. Your hair falls cutely around your face, framing the lacey mask that serves as a basic disguise. While not the most concealing, it would still provide some cover as to not tip off anyone you knew. You decided to go without a bra, but opted for some sweet panties that hugged your hips nicely. When Seonghwa entered the room, you almost couldn't hold your laugh in. While his facecard was beautiful, the camera attached to him looked plain silly. He basically had a go-pro on, but you reminded yourself it was for the money, so you dealt with the awkwardness.

"Is that thing gonna get the right angle?" You asked, adjusting your pose so you sat on your hands.

"We're gonna find out, I guess. It feeds to the laptop, so lemme get it set up and we can adjust from there."

After a few minutes of finagling, you both agreed on the view from the camera. His long fingers ghosted over the keys, logging into the site you would be using.

He announces, while still facing away from you, "My thought is we can do a couple basic videos to start off with, then maybe we could move to live streaming?"

You nod your head, not realizing he wouldn't know your response. Seonghwa turns around to look at you and you nod your head once more. "My bad. Yea, that sounds good to me. Ready to get started?" He nods.

Nerves buzz through your limbs, settling in your fingers that remain securely under your thighs. His gait is relaxed as he steps to the edge of the bed where you sit. He gives you a silent look. One that asks if you're ready to go through with this. You blink up at him a few times before exhaling the breath you were holding and nodding once.

A click of the camera and a red light blinking once before becoming stagnant indicates that the scene has started. Your nerves settle almost instantly. A hand smooths over the skin of your cheek, cupping it softly. To say your reaction was instantaneous wouldn't be descriptive enough. You keen into his palm, allowing him to smooth the thoughts from your mind. His fingers glide down to pinch your chin between them. He pulls your gaze up to his, whispering, "Just look at me, pretty."

Heat pools in your lower abdomen at his words, staring directly into the camera as if it were his own eyes. As the grip on your chin recedes, his thumb drags at your lower lip. You eagerly open your mouth for him, allowing him to slip the thumb inside and flatten it against your tongue. A heavy whimper falls from your open mouth, allowing him to play with it how he pleases. Your fingers itch to touch him, but you know he'd stop his motions if you did. He leans in, getting a better view at the saliva pooling in your mouth before angling downward at your tits. His free hand smoothes over your chest, cupping the bottom of one before moving on to the next. A sigh escapes his lips as he leans back, seemingly lost in thought.

Seonghwa's hand tugs the button on his pants free, pulling the sides open enough to slip his member free from the confines. Even after being with him for years, you're always shocked at how thick and long he manages to be. Your eyes flicker from the camera to his length, waiting for permission.

The thumb that rests in your mouth leaves as his hand cards through your hair, grip becoming firm as he guides you to his length. The salty precum leaking from his tip covers your tastebuds as you take him in your mouth. You moan at the taste.

His breathing becomes heavier the more you take into your mouth. Whatever you can't fit into your mouth is cradled by your hands that slipped from underneath you. A tug at your scalp has you looking up at him, eyes wide and starting to tear.

"Did I say to stop looking at me?" He asks gruffly, eyes narrowing slightly.

Your response is to take him deeper in your mouth, a slightly bratty move and momentarily gagging yourself, but providing the exact reaction you wanted. A guttural sound resounds from his throat, head tipping back as you work yourself on his length. He doesn't stop you. Pulling back to where his tips just rests in your mouth, you lick the soft underside of his head before pushing yourself to your limit.

"Fuck, pretty, you take me so well," he muses.

Breathing through your nose, you continue to take him, sucking whenever you pull back and licking at his veins whenever you push in. Tears track down your cheeks, continuously pushing past your lids whenever he bumps the back of your throat. Whines and whimpers fall from your mouth, becoming loud every time his grip tightens in your hair. Your hands cradle his balls, kneading them between your palms, eliciting breathy moans from your lover. He fights to keep the camera angle on you, desperately trying to not lose himself to the shockwaves of pleasure you give him. It doesn't take long before he's pulling you off his cock completely, pushing your body backward on the bed and flipping up your skirt. His hands greedily pull at your thighs, teasing and tickling along the innermost parts, but avoiding where you need him the most.

"So cute, pretty. Did you get all dolled up for me?" He asks, getting a better view of the panties that are currently sticking to your lips. They're nearly see through at this point, dripping from the arousal that's pooled between your legs. "And you're so worked up, aren't you? Do you think you deserve to be touched?"

You nod furiously at his words, your lower lip starting to pout. A breezy chuckle leaves his lips before his hands are tugging down the soft material, discarding it somewhere behind him. Two of his fingers spread your lower lips, giving the camera a better view of your dripping cunt. You nearly forgot you were filming, so wrapped up in giving him pleasure and chasing your own. A whine erupts from your throat the moment Seonghwa circles his fingers around your puffy and untouched clit. He smiles softly before dipping them just inside your cunt, dragging them back up to circle around your clit once more. You can tell he's testing you when he does it a few more times, a huff nearly falling from your lips at his teasing. The impatience quickly dissipates as both fingers plunge into your heat, curling up slightly before pulling back. Your head falls back against your shoulders, obscuring your face from the camera. His motions stop. You lift your head quickly, looking back at him as he shakes his head lightly.

Seonghwa resumes his motions and each time he delves inside, his fingers loosen your walls to prepare for his length. He murmurs small encouragements all the while, praising you for how pliant you are, how pretty your pussy sounds for him. Your abdomen continues to knot further and further, the coil threatening to snap at any time. His free hand rests on your clit, rubbing small circles in order to throw you into your climax. With a cry you come undone, your cunt sucking his fingers in. He continues his motions until you squirm away from his touch, pleading with him to stop.

You can hear him shuffle around and his pants hit the floor before the bed dips and he straddles you. Hands push at your shirt, freeing your tits for the camera. Seonghwa kneads at them and tugs at your nipples, giving each a slight smack. His hands travel down your hips, grabbing at your thighs to wrap them around his waist.

"Is my princess ready to take my cock?"

"Please," you beg, looking pointedly into the camera.

"Since you asked so nicely, how could I refuse?" His length glides through your folds, tapping gently against your abused clit. The motion elicits more sounds from your mouth, increasing in volume as he pushes in with one move.

"Ngh, yes," you whine when you feel his hips meet yours. One of his hands splay over your stomach, holding you down as he starts to move.

"God, fuck," he starts, "you're so tight, pretty."

The drag of his cock against your walls is delicious, rubbing everywhere you need and filling you so nicely you couldn't think of anyone but him. His pace remains consistent, but he moves your legs in different positions until they both rest against his shoulders.

You cry out at this new angle, his cock hitting the spongy patch inside with abandon. His thumb finds your mouth again and you readily open for the appendage once more. You pose for the camera, batting your wide, innocent eyes and sucking on his thumb as his hips smack heavily against your thighs. You know he's close when his pace increases, but loses rhythm. The thumb in your mouth moves to circle your clit once more. Heat pools in your belly once more, another climax threatening to unleash.

"Come on, pretty, cum with me."

It's not but seconds later when you both fall apart with each other, your walls milking him for all he has. Seonghwa doesn't immediately stop recording. Instead, he pulls out and closes in on your cunt, spreading your lips and allowing globs of cum to seep from your stretched hole. When he pans back to your sweat sheened body, he clicks the camera off.

It's like a switch clicked as soon as the camera was off and discarded on the desk nearby.

"How are you doing, baby? Let me get a cloth. Or do you want to go straight to the bath?" A smile graces your lips in response. Just like the first time you spent the night together, he's always fretted over you after you have had sex. It was something you appreciated as past partners had never considered you. You sigh contently, slowly pushing yourself up.

"Let's go take a shower and then work on editing the footage, okay?"

"Of course," he responds, taking your hand and leading the way.

Lathering soap across both of your bodies, you talk about how the scene went, praising him for providing direction so easily. His hands shake, words coming out jumbled as he attempts to compliment you. He worries over your body, taking extra care when scrubbing your scalp, easing the tension from the grip he had in your hair. Seonghwa soon scatters kisses across your shoulders, murmurs of affection and adoration filling the steamy room.

Working on the video didn't take much time as you didn't want it to look heavily edited. You sat in his lap for most of it, his arms wrapped down your waist while you gave feedback on what you could both do better next time. Posting the video was the hard part. Well… emotionally at least. You both sat there for a while, pondering titles and wondering if you would actually go through with this. It would–hopefully–provide the needed income, but you would be putting that out there forever. Anxiety crept into your being as you worried if you looked good enough for something like this. Seonghwa soothed you while you worked through the heavy feelings, rubbing your back softly and pressing kisses around your face. Nothing could compare to you is what he told you, that you were beautiful and if the viewers couldn't see it they were blind.

Eventually, you calmed down enough to ask,  "what should we name it?"

It was a challenge. Trying to think of something that wasn't going to blend in with all the other content on the site but was also eye-catching enough to gain views.

"How about: Pretty? It's what I call you, and it's unique enough. As long as the tags fit then it should still be seen."

"I like it. Let's do it." Enthusiasm and warmth fills your chest as you both click on the mouse to post the finished product. You don't expect immediate views, nor do you receive them right after posting, but you hope it'll be enough to cover rent the next month.

© cyberteez 2025

[filmjunky-99]

s t a r t r e k t h e n e x t g e n e r a t i o n created by gene roddenberry [where silence has lease, s2ep2]

'I have learned all I needed to know. Would you like me to share some of my conclusions?' - nagilum

'I'm not interested.' - picard

'Of course you are. You are too inquisitive not to want to know.

You seem to find no tranquility in anything. You struggle against the inevitable. You thrive on conflict. You're selfish, yet you value loyalty. You're rash, quick to judge, slow to change.

It's amazing you've survived.' - nagilum

[magneto-was-fucking-right]

The Ghost Next Door - Chapter 1

Prompt: After suffering an almost lethal injury in combat, Simon "Ghost" Riley expected a dull, and uneventful leave back at his shitty apartment. His new next-door neighbor ruins his plans. Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader (named Riley Thomas for plot purposes)

Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Disclaimer: slow burn; neighbor!Simon; will eventually contain very graphic descriptions of smut;

Chapter summary: Ghost returns home to find he has a new noisy neighbor: a socially awkward veterinarian with questionable cooking skills. Word Count: 1.5k

When Simon Riley limply walked in on his flat after four months of deployment, he could barely breathe. The stale air from the lack of proper ventilation had trapped in the humidity of the past rainy days, the walls poorly insulated, and therefore, moldy. As per usual, the place looked terribly dull, the scarce decorative elements inadequately arranged, but certainly well-fitting to the dingy apartment complex in Manchester.

Dropping his duffel bag by the door dismissively, instead of opening the curtains and letting in the evening light, he first headed to the fridge, analyzing its usual contents: two beers, a carton of milk (most likely spoiled by now), a jar of marmite and an old noodles container from the Chinese restaurant he liked, stinking up the place.

“Forgot ya little fucker” he made sure to remember to throw it out later, before grabbing a beer and plopping himself on the couch, careful enough to not hurt his wounded leg any further. But as soon as he grabbed the remote from under his thigh, ready to turn on the news and resituate himself with the current ongoings of the British populace, he finally paid attention to the commotion next door.

“Bloody fucking hell” He groaned “What’s all this racket?”

He heard thumping, scratching, something breaking, quick footsteps and what seemed to be a gentle voice cooing “oh no, please, not again”. Just as he was processing the fact that he didn’t remember having any horizontal neighbors since he first signed the lease (one of the main reasons why he even signed in the first place), an aggressive knock on his door made him instantly rise to his feet, grabbing a black facemask from his bag and moving silently to peek through the peephole.

“Mr. Riley!” The old woman on the other side called out, still knocking, and Simon sighed deeply in annoyance. “I know you’re in there, I saw you come in earlier.”

“Fucking cunt” He muttered under his breath, weighting whether ignoring her would make her leave at once (it wouldn’t, and they both knew it).

He took a deep breath before unlocking the door, regretting it immediately.

“There ya are” She started, shoving a couple papers on his chest, and forcing a pen between his calloused fingers “I need you to sign this immediately.”

“What are you on about?” He tried his best to keep it polite and cordial, but the woman’s presence and constant complaints always filled him with inevitable rage.

“Your neighbor” She pointed to the door next to his, where a great deal of noise still stemmed from the walls “She cannot and will not stay here. She is insufferable.”

Well that makes two, innit? He thought to himself, biting down his tongue.

Faced with his menacing silence, she carried on with her melodramatic monologue:

“It’s a petition to kick her out, I’m getting everyone to sign, even the new tenants, then I’ll arrange a meeting with the landlady for a formal hearing.”

“What the fuck did she do?” Simon inquired, clearly irritated, reading the five signatures on the first page. He was pretty sure three of them were in the same handwriting.

She looked at him indignantly, extending her arms at the door once again, indicating the ongoing clatter.

“She has a bloody jungle in there! Cats, dogs, birds, and God forbid, rats if you can believe it!”

“Mrs. Parsons, I think we all had rats in our apartments at some point this year.”

“Not as pets! It’s disgusting, and everyone’s been complaining about the noise!”

He glared at her indifferently, eager to return to the comfort of his privacy and wallow in his frustration, giving his leg some much needed rest. She stepped back, seemingly realizing that Mr. Riley was in one of his moods, not keen on indulging in useless chatter or gossip.

“Right, well, not interested.” He tried to return the signatures, to which she vehemently refused, pushing them back to his chest.

“At least consider it Mr. Riley. She lives right next to you and the walls are thin. Your signature’s the most important one.”

“Will do.” He shut the door on her face, mindlessly throwing the papers and the facemask on the coffee table as he limped back to the couch and turned on the tv. He hissed after realizing he had ripped his stitches as he sat down aggressively, a splotch of blood soaking the fresh bandage he had been arranged on base.

“Fuckin’ hell” he sighed tiredly, deciding he would deal with it first thing in the morning.

***

As the pandemonium progressively decreased throughout the night, Simon had fallen deep asleep on the sofa, tv still on and feet kicked up on the table. But when there was a new knock on the door, this time softer, he felt like he could have only been sleeping for five minutes, exhaustion and grumpiness still ingrained in his bones.

“What now?” He groaned to himself, massaging his sore neck, and finally remembering to kick off his boots. He was so used to sleeping fully clothed, often even geared up and ready to go, that he always took some time to remember how to act like a civilian again once he was back home.

Just as he readjusted himself to go back to sleep, his lids semi closed and arms crossed over his chest, one more knock arose anger in his belly at his newly interrupted rest. Frustrated, he sighed before getting up, easing up the pressure on his wound as the sharp pain reminded him of the ruptured sutures from the previous evening.

Facemask on once again, Simon opened the door aggressively, expecting Mrs. Parsons to come collect her newfound project in ruining other people’s lives, and therefore halfway of saying “What the fuck do you-”

“I-I’m so sorry! I know it’s early and I was probably a huge bother all night, but I wanted to apologize before leaving for work and-”

“Slow down.” He commanded, stopping the young woman’s panicked rant. He had barely rubbed sleep from his eyes and his mind wasn’t yet ready to take in another dreadful monologue. He observed her intently, as he often did to potential threats (usually concealed by the shadows), but as the circumstances proved different, she observed him right back. He always felt strange and vulnerable without the skull mask, regardless of the black facemask covering half of his visage anyway.

She couldn’t possibly be over 25 years old, her bright and cheerful complexion not carrying the weight of the tired lines that came at 30. She was considerably shorter than him, but still quite tall for a woman, her frame concealed under oversized scrubs that seemed ridiculously out of place; her hair messily tied in a long braid. She held up a tray with what seemed to be freshly baked cookies, but about half of them were burnt.

As she smiled nervously, he noticed one of her canines was slightly chipped, and the small white scar across her right eyebrow almost distracted him from the dimples. If she had noticed him stare at the small imperfections, she didn’t seem bothered at all, continuing her anxious speech as if she had practiced in front of the mirror beforehand.

“Right, I’m sorry, I really hoped we could meet in better circumstances.”

“What time is it?” Simon groaned, looking at his wrist to check his watch. “Fuckin’ hell, it’s 6 in the bloody morning.”

“I know, I’m sorry, I was gonna bake you a cake and offer you tea, but I was called in unexpectedly yesterday an-”

“That’s lovely and all, but why are you knocking on my door at six in the morning with half-burnt cookies?” He interrupted moodily and almost regretted it once he saw her smile falter and her cheeks redden in shame.

“Oh…” She lowered the tray, her eyebrows scrunched as she analyzed the overcooked treats and tried hard to recover. “Well, I just wanted to apologize for all the noise from last night before I left for work. I feel terrible about it and-”

“Apology accepted.” He stepped back, ready to shut the door.

“Wait!” She held it with her foot, nervously trembling under his cold gaze. She took a deep breath, and he sighed, his head slightly tilted to the right, as if deciding what to think of the socially awkward woman meddling in his business. “I just…”

“Go on.” He encouraged, trying to speed up the end of the uncomfortable encounter.

“I’m new here.” she blurted out “I moved in about a month and a half ago and people don’t seem to like me very much already” she sighed, and he noticed the dark bags under her tired eyes.

“So I’ve heard.”

“I work at the Vet clinic a few streets nearby-”

“I didn’t sign it.” He interrupted once again, and she would certainly be frustrated if she wasn’t so happy about what he said.

“The petition?”

“Yeah.”

“Really?” Her face gleamed with relief “Because I-”

“I’m due to consider it.” He added, her expression quickly dropping to disappointment.

“Why?” Her soft, defeated tone could almost pull on his heartstrings. If he had one.

“I don’t know if you’ll bother me yet.” Now he was just messing with her.

“I won’t!” She argued, defensively.

“Alright. I’ll think about it over that cake.” He closed the door, leaving her open mouthed in shock, the tray of cookies still in hand.

He heard her softly press her forehead to the door after a thoughtful moment, and then yell out:

“Are you allergic to anything?”

“People.”

A/N: I'm back! I wrote this months ago but only just decided to start posting these series :) I LOVE writing porn but when it comes with a cute backstory attached it's just *chef's kiss*. I plan on keeping the chapters simple and comforting - writing has been really helping me cope with seasonal depression, and the boredom of routine in general. New chapter coming soon... Enjoy!

[thatchickwiththecamera]

ROOMMATES | Jesse Cash One Shot

Pairing: Jesse Cash x Reader

Warnings: Contains Smut, 18+ Only

Your studio in the house wasn’t the same as the spare rooms Michael and Noah used or the garage space Jesse converted to write and produce music. Your desk and iMac were set up in one corner, with a small makeshift reading nook in the neighboring one by the window. The other half of the room had a couch flanked by two tall reading lamps on either side with miscellaneous shelves and crates of camera gear along with a few spools of various colored backdrop paper hung neatly on the wall. 

You worked as a digital media creator and while you worked in the music industry, your realm of expertise was more in tune with the world of photography, videography, and graphic design as opposed to the actual creation of music like your roommates. You had met the guys through working on a few projects with your friend Orie McGuiness and when he moved out he had vetted you as being the perfect person to take over his portion of the lease. 

Living in a house full of creatives was quite the experience. It wasn’t unusual for one of the guys, mainly Noah or Jesse, to randomly pop in unannounced while you were in the middle of a project. Your studio was sort of neutral ground. It was a place where they could take a break from their own work while still being in a creative environment. They’d come in and inquire about whatever project you were currently working on and you’d take the time to get a fresh eyed opinion on the progress you had made.

Noah would sit on the couch and tell you all about the newest anime he was watching, what artists he and Jolly had recently been hired to write for, or whatever new ideas he, Matt, and Davis had come up with for the next tour. 

With Jesse you’d end up talking about almost anything and everything. One day you’d have a long discussion about something as simple as pro baseball box scores and your mutual appreciation of the Red Sox. Other days you’d talk about things like why Anthony Green has been in so many rock bands, and why Circa Survive was your favorite over Saosin. 

If it was too hot to sit outside, Jesse liked to come in and commandeer your reading corner, claiming that your window had the best natural lighting in the house. Which had also led to a portion of your bookcase being overrun with books Jesse had finished and insisted that you should read next. 

There were many nights where you’d both end up in your studio reading. It was one of your favorite routines that had developed since you had moved in two years prior. Either one of you would be in the chair in the corner and the other would be on the couch, or sometimes, you’d both end up curled up on opposite ends of the couch under the two reading lamps with whatever books you had become engrossed in that week. 

Around six thirty, you heard the door to the studio open. Right on time. 

You looked over from where you sat on the couch to see Jesse walk in with the latest Stephen King novel he was reading wedged under his arm. You slipped your bookmark between the pages of your new Sarah J. Maas bestseller and moved the pile of pillows next to you. He kicked off his shoes and settled into the other end of the couch. You shared a smile before the both of you slipped into a comfortable silence. 

About an hour or so had passed before Jesse reached down and grabbed one of the discarded throw pillows and tossed it toward you. You set your book down and watched as he laid his head against the pillow now propped up against the side of your lap and kicked his feet out, resting them against the opposite end of the couch. Once he was comfortable, he reopened his book and continued reading. You smiled to yourself before resting your arm against the top of the pillow and returning to your own book. 

As you got lost in the pages of the fantasy book, your fingers began absentmindedly fiddling with the mess of curls that peaked over the top of the pillow. Jesse hadn’t cut his hair since the start of the year and the brown coils he usually hid under his favorite black ball cap had grown long and wild over the last six months. 

You found yourself drawn into the rhythm of reading, the soft hum of the air conditioning providing a soothing background noise. Jesse’s presence beside you was comforting, his warmth seeping into your side where he leaned against you.. 

Lost in the world of your book, you almost didn’t notice when Jesse shifted beside you, stretching out his legs a bit more. You looked up instinctively, meeting his eyes briefly before he glanced back down at his book, a small smile playing on his lips. 

"Hey, do you ever wonder if there’s more out there?" Jesse's voice broke the silence, his question unexpected but not entirely out of place given the late-night contemplative mood. 

You considered his question, choosing your words carefully. 

"More in what way?" 

He hesitated, as if searching for the right way to phrase his thoughts. 

"I mean... more than like what we're doing now. More than just work and routines. Like... possibilities we haven’t explored." 

The air between you felt charged, the weight of his words hanging in the small space of your studio. You could feel your heart race a little faster, a mixture of excitement and nervousness bubbling up inside you. But before you could respond, the door to the studio swung open abruptly, startling both of you. 

Noah stood there, grinning mischievously. 

"Hey, sorry to interrupt... but I need Jesse’s help with something. You guys are reading together again, huh? Cute." 

Jesse shot Noah a playful glare, but you could see the slight flush in his cheeks as he quickly straightened up, removing himself from the cozy position against you. 

"Yeah, I'll be there in a sec," he replied, gathering his book and pushing himself off the couch.

"We'll talk more later," he added with a meaningful look before following Noah out of the room. 

Left alone in the wake of their departure, you let out a sigh of mixed emotions. It seemed every time the atmosphere between you and Jesse began to hint at something more, it was swiftly interrupted or diverted. The unresolved tension lingered in the air like an unfinished melody, leaving you wondering what could have been said if only there had been a few more moments of silence. 

With a shake of your head, you returned to your book, though your mind kept wandering back to Jesse’s question and the unspoken connection between you. 

—

A few days passed and you hadn’t seen Jesse much. He was busy fine tuning the last few guitar riffs and lyric ideas he had in preparation for when he met with the rest of the ERRA boys to track their new album the next week. 

It was a little after two in the afternoon when you emerged from your studio and shuffled your way downstairs to the kitchen. You hadn’t planned on working as long as you had that morning, but you had found yourself locked in on your most recent project and had lost track of time. You hadn’t realized how late it was until your stomach started growling from lack of food. 

You popped a snack plate of leftovers in the microwave to reheat and decided to knock out some of the dishes that were left in the sink from earlier in the day when the guys had made their morning coffee. You were drying Noah’s white ‘Shuh Da Fuh Cup” mug when you heard the sound of the sliding glass door open. 

You looked up to see a shirtless Jesse walk in wearing a pair of athletic shorts and sneakers. His curly hair was damp and his upper body glistened with a layer of sweat from working in the backyard all morning under the blazing California sun. Living with three guys, you were very much used to seeing the guys lounge about and walk around the house in various states of undress. 

But your eyes couldn’t help but follow his form as he walked through the kitchen. Noticing the details of the familiar tattoos that adorned his stomach, chest and arms as he grabbed a clean glass from the drying rack next to you and filled it with water from the tap. 

He leaned back against the island where you were standing and raised the glass to his lips. Adam’s apple bobbing with each gulp. The colors of the flower on his right hand were highlighted as his long fingers wrapped around the glass. Your mind started to drift and you couldn’t help but wonder what that hand might feel like wrapped around your throat. 

“Enjoying the view?” He asks. 

The sound of his voice snapped you out of your thoughts. You’d been caught and felt a blush start to creep across your face. 

Your eyes flicker to his and he smirks at you in amusement before downing the last of the water. The smell of sweat mixed with his body wash filled your nose as he reached around you to place the empty glass in the sink. You could feel the heat radiate off his sun kissed skin.

His face came dangerously close to yours, eyes never breaking contact. You roll your eyes and he sends you a playful wink before making his way out of the kitchen and toward the stairs, presumably up to his room to shower. 

You stood there for a moment trying to process what had just happened before you were startled by the sound of the microwave over the stove. With a sigh you retrieved your food and retreated back upstairs to continue working.

As you returned to your studio, the encounter with Jesse in the kitchen replayed in your mind like a scene from a movie. His casual remark about enjoying the view left you flustered, but you couldn’t deny the thrill it sent through you. Jesse had always had a playful, teasing side, but lately, it seemed his interactions with you held a subtle undercurrent that made your heart race.

Back at your desk, you tried to refocus on your work, but your thoughts kept drifting. You found yourself glancing at the doorway, half-expecting Jesse to reappear, yet knowing he was likely downstairs working in his studio by now. The memory of his closeness, the scent of his sweat mixed with the faint trace of his cologne lingered in your memory. 

The afternoon sun cast warm hues through the window, illuminating the room in a comforting glow. You tried to lose yourself in editing photos, tweaking colors and compositions, anything to distract you. But every now and then, your mind would wander back to his question from a few days earlier. The one about possibilities unexplored, about more than just the routine of work and friendship.

Hours passed in a blur. The sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the room. You glanced at the clock and realized it was nearly time for dinner. With a sigh, you saved your work, shut down your computer, and stretched out your stiff limbs. 

In the kitchen, you found Noah already cooking up something, dancing and singing to a song that blasted from the bluetooth speaker on the island. He greeted you with a grin and a teasing comment about being lost in your work again. You chuckled in response, helping him set the table as you exchanged small talk about the day.

Soon, Jesse sauntered in, dressed casually in a worn band tee and joggers. His hair was still a little damp from his earlier shower, curls slightly tamed, and he greeted you with a genuine smile. 

You couldn’t help but notice the ease with which he moved around the kitchen, effortlessly sliding into conversations with Noah about the new songs they were working on.

Dinner passed in a haze of laughter and shared stories. It was just you, Jesse, and Noah since Michael was off spending the weekend with his girlfriend. The familiar banter and camaraderie among the three of you was comforting. 

After dinner, you cleared the table together, rinsing dishes and stacking them in the dishwasher. Jesse volunteered to dry, and you handed him plates and glasses with a smile, trying to ignore the way your fingers brushed against each other’s.

As you finished up in the kitchen, Noah excused himself to take a call from Matt about one of the band’s upcoming studio sessions. Jesse leaned against the counter, watching you quietly with that thoughtful look that always made your heart skip a beat.

"So," he finally said, breaking the silence, "did you get much done today?"

You nodded, a nervous energy tingling in your fingertips. "Yeah, I made good progress. How about you? Productive day in the backyard this morning?"

Jesse chuckled, setting down the dish towel and stepping closer to you. "Yeah, it was alright. Hot as hell out there, though."

You laughed softly, feeling the proximity between you like a magnetic pull. "I can imagine."

He hesitated for a moment, his gaze dropping to the floor before lifting to meet yours again. 

“Listen, about earlier... in the kitchen."

Your heart skipped a beat, anticipation and uncertainty swirling in your chest. 

"Yeah?"

He took a deep breath, his expression earnest yet guarded. 

"I just... I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable or anything. I was just teasing."

You shook your head, smiling softly. 

"It’s okay, Jesse. I know."

There was a pause, his eyes searched yours, as if trying to decipher something hidden beneath the surface. You held your breath, waiting for him to say something more. 

But before either of you could speak, the sound of footsteps echoed down the stairs, signaling Noah’s return. The moment shattered and Jesse stepped back, running a hand through his curls.

Noah announced he was headed out for the evening. He had to go to their friend Davis’ house to work on finalizing the designs for the next few merch drops and some visual ideas for the band’s upcoming tour. 

With Noah's departure, the house suddenly felt quieter. You and Jesse exchanged a glance, a flicker of something unspoken passing between you before you turned back to finish drying the last few dishes.

"I should probably go and finish up the track I’m working on," Jesse finally broke the silence, his tone casual but his eyes lingering on you.

"Yeah, I've got a few things to wrap up myself," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady despite the nerves dancing in your stomach.

As you moved toward the stairs, a sudden loud rumble of thunder startled you. You glanced out the window to see dark clouds rolling in, blotting out the remnants of daylight. The distant flash of lightning illuminated the room, casting eerie shadows across the walls.

"Looks like we're in for a storm," Jesse remarked, his voice low. 

"Yeah, seems like it," you agreed, feeling the tension in the air thicken with the impending storm.

You retreated to your studio upstairs while Jesse headed to the garage. The sound of rain started as a soft patter against the window, gradually building into a steady downpour. You tried to focus on your work, the glow of your computer screen casting a faint light across the dim room. 

Minutes turned into hours as the storm raged outside, the occasional flash of lightning and rumble of thunder punctuating the night. The power flickered once, twice, before finally plunging the house into darkness. The sudden quiet was almost deafening, the absence of the hum of appliances and electronics leaving you acutely aware of the sound of your own breathing.

You sat back in your chair, momentarily stunned by the abrupt darkness. You reached for your phone, activating its flashlight to navigate your way downstairs.

As you made your way downstairs the light from your phone cast eerie shadows against the record plaques and framed tour posters hung along the wall. The power outage seemed to have affected the entire neighborhood, plunging everything on the block into darkness.

Navigating carefully through the hallway, you headed towards the kitchen where you knew there were candles stored for situations like this. As you rounded the corner, you nearly collided with Jesse, who seemed to be on the same mission.

"Shit! Sorry!" he exclaimed, steadying you with a gentle hand on your arm. "Didn't mean to scare you."

"It's okay," you replied, heart still racing from the unexpected encounter. "Just looking for some candles."

"Yeah, same here," Jesse said, his voice low. "I think they're in one of these..."

Together, you searched through various drawers, finally locating a cabinet of miscellaneous colored and scented candles. He lit a few and placed them strategically around the kitchen, casting a soft, flickering light that danced across his features. 

You struggled to reach where the emergency lantern sat on the top shelf in the kitchen cabinet and had to resort to climbing up on the counter to grab it. You felt a hand ghost your lower back steading your movements as you lowered yourself to a sitting position on the counter top, legs dangling over the side. You handed the lantern off to Jesse. 

"Thanks," you murmured, he lit the lantern and set it beside you on the counter. 

“No problem,” he replied, voice husky in the quiet room. 

The warm glow illuminated his features, making his eyes sparkle with a mixture of amusement and something deeper. He moved closer and stood between your legs, hands resting against the counter on either side of where you sat, his gaze locking with yours. His eyes scanned your face looking for a sign to stop as he leaned closer. The air between you crackled, the charged atmosphere inside mirroring that of the storm outside. 

Your noses brushed against each other, breath intermingling for a moment before the remaining distance between you vanished. The kiss was tentative at first, a soft exploration of lips meeting in the dim candlelight. But as the moment stretched, the intensity between you grew, fueled by the proximity and the emotions that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long.

His lips were warm against yours, a contrast to the cool touch of his fingers on your skin. The kiss deepened, becoming more urgent, both of you had been waiting for the moment, this acknowledgment of the desire that had been building between you.

Time seemed to stand still in that moment, the storm outside forgotten as you melted into each other's embrace. One of his hands ran up your arm and rested against the side of your neck as the other slid around your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between your bodies. Your hands found their way into his mess of curls. The scent of his aftershave mingled with the subtle aroma of wax and rain, the mixture of smells enveloping you both.

When you finally broke apart, breathless and flushed, Jesse rested his forehead against yours, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on the exposed skin of your thigh. The silence around you was profound, broken only by the soft crackle of the candles and the distant rumble of thunder.

His eyes darkened as a flash of lightning illuminated his face through the window. His lips connected with yours once more and he lifted you from the counter, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carried you toward the couch in the adjoining living room. 

You sat straddling his lap as his hands found their way under your shirt. You lifted your arms and the article was quickly cast aside. His own shirt soon followed. You ran your hands over the tattoos of the chieftess and eagle across his chest and the roaring tiger that covered his stomach. His arm snaked around your back and unhooked the clasp of your bra before throwing the article on the floor. 

He rolled you off his lap and positioned you so you were now laying down on the couch. He crawled between your legs and hooked his fingers under the waistband of your shorts. You lifted your hips, allowing him to slide them off along with your underwear. 

He stood up and discarded his joggers and briefs before settling back down between your legs. Your hands shot up and covered your face realizing how exposed you now were. 

He reached up and softly grabbed your hands and pulled them away from your face.

“Don’t you ever try to hide from me, Darlin.” he said, planting kisses along the backs of each before placing them above your head, securing them in place with his left hand. “I want to see that pretty face as I watch you come undone.” 

He planted another tender kiss upon your lips and watched you react as he ghosted his fingers over your core. 

You let out a shaky breath as he gently slipped a finger inside and fell into a steady rhythm before adding another. You struggled against his grip as his thumb rubbed against your clit. His movements never stopped even as he started planting kisses across your throat and chest.

He took one of your breasts in his mouth. Your head snapped back against the pillow behind you at the added sensation when he bit the sensitive bud of your nipple before soothing the pain with the pad of his tongue. 

With each move his eyes looked up at you, watching as your face contorted with pleasure, letting out shaky breaths and moans from the stimulation. He left a trail of wet kisses down your stomach and he released your hands as he kissed your inner thigh. 

“Oh, Fuck!” You gasped, hands quickly finding their way into his curls as his tongue flicked over your clit before biting and sucking on the bundle of nerves. 

The pleasure in your voice made his dick twitch and flipped a switch in him. He devoured you like a starved man and it drove you over the edge. You felt the familiar feeling of an orgasm build and tighten like a knot in your stomach. You tried to move your hips to match his movement but he firmly held you in place, leaving you writhing under his grasp. 

“Jesse” you whined. 

His name sounded like a prayer on your lips as you grew closer to your climax, and he was there to worship you with his whole being. The knot snapped and your hands tightened their grip through his now tangled curls. But he didn’t stop, continuing his physical praises as the orgasm washed over you like a flood. 

You let out a whimper from the absence as he made his way back up your body and planted another searing kiss against your lips.You wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him deeper into the kiss. 

“Fuck, this is better than I dreamed.” he said with a sigh before kissing you again.

He pulled back, letting out a gasp as he felt your hand reach down between the two of you and grab hold of his cock. You watched as he shut his eyes and let out a shaky breath as your thumb swiped away a bead of precum from the tip. His breathing became sporadic as you worked your way over the sensitive member. 

He had enough of your teasing. You gripped his arms, nail leaving indentations against the tattooed skin as he gently slid the head into your entrance,  pausing for a moment to allow you to adjust before sinking the rest of the way. He wrapped your legs around his hips and pressed his forehead against yours, eyes locked, as he thrusts faster, harder, deeper.

You moved your hips to match his thrusts as you both chased your highs together. Your eyes flutter closed as you feel that familiar pressure begin to build once more. 

“Look at me, darlin,” he commanded. “Look at me when I’m fucking you.” 

Your eyes snap back open, his words making your eyes almost roll back in added pleasure. His pupils were blown with ecstasy making his light brown eyes almost appear black in the candlelight. He picks up his pace with a grunt. You pull him close, wrapping your arms around his middle, snaking a hand up through his hair, giving a gentle tug as his hips snap into you. 

“Fuck, Jess.” you cry. “I’m so close…”

“Doing so good for me, darlin.” he praises through gritted teeth. 

You moan against his mouth as he slots his lips against yours in another deep kiss. 

White flashes line the edges of your vision as you cry out in pleasure. Jesse buries his face in your neck as he fucks you through your orgasm, his breath shaking as chases his own not long after. 

As your breathing finally returns to normal, he stands up and pads over to the kitchen, taking his added warmth with him. The cool air in the house washes over you despite the storm also knocking out the A/C. He returns a moment later with a clean damp washcloth for the both of you.

He disappears upstairs for a moment before returning dressed in a pair of his briefs like how he usually sleeps with a folded up white t-shirt in his hand.

He motions for you to raise your arm and slips the oversized shirt over your head. It's his favorite shirt with a map of Alabama record stores on the front. 

“Damn, you look good in my shirt.” he states, pulling you up from the couch and kissing your forehead. You wrap your arms around his middle as he holds you close.

A mischievous smile then slides across his face. He bends down and wraps his arms around your thighs, throwing you over his shoulder. 

“Goddammit, Jesse!” you exclaim, hitting his lower back with your fists. 

His hand smacked your bare ass peeking out from under the shirt as he carried you up the stairs and into his room. He threw you onto his unmade bed before climbing on after you, pullig you flush against him, and tossing the discarded comforter over your bodies.

He wrapped his arms around you and nuzzled his face into your hair. You happily laid like this for a few moments, both of your energy spent from the activities downstairs. 

“Hey, Jess?” you ask. 

“Hmm?” he replies, voice muffled by his face pressed against your neck. 

“You ever wonder if there’s more out there?” You ask, referring back to your unfinished conversation from the other night.

You felt him smile. 

“I used to.” He replied. 

“What changed?” You asked, turning now to face him. 

“I met you.” He replied simply, before pulling him toward you and wrapping his arms around you. 

You rested your head against his chest and snuggled into him further. 

He continued, “Everything I need is right here.”

You lay like this wrapped up in each other’s embrace for the next hour or so before the lull of the moment is broken by the sound of the front door and Noah’s familiar voice breaking through the silence after he stumbles upon the pieces of clothing you had left behind. 

“I fucking knew it!” 

[secretswiftymarvelfan]

Boston Bears: Fake Out - Rugby Player! Ari Levinson x Reader (Part 2)

Summary: After a week back on the East Coast you start your new job at the Boston Bears only to find out your boss has an interesting job for you.

Word Count: 7.6k words

Warnings: Language! Angst! Mention of Cheating! Sexual Tension!

Rugby Explained

Dividers by Me!

Fake Out Series Masterlist /Boston Bears Masterlist / Masterlist

Chapter 2

You were sat with your chin resting on your knee, on Elena’s bed which technically was your bed now. You glanced around the room which was now yours, the entire apartment was yours. The first thing Elena did Tuesday morning was put your name on the lease and take her name off. That evening she started packing up her stuff and helped unpack yours.

It didn’t feel like your apartment though. You wondered whether it would when she was fully moved out and only the small collection of your belongings remained. But then it would just be as empty as you felt, most of your things were back in LA and you wouldn’t get them back for another couple months.

Even now the apartment felt quiet. Elena was at work and it was just you. The silence was deafening. Elena had asked if you wanted her to stay a couple night to keep you company but you lied and said you were fine. Last night you had just stared up at the ceiling until exhaustion finally took over.

You were pulled from your thoughts by your laptop coming to life. A video call from your parents. You’d been expecting this, your mom had texted you yesterday to ask what was going on. You hadn’t felt ready to tell them yet so you said they could call you today.

“Hey mom, hey dad” you forced a smile as the call connected and you saw the concerned faces of your parents.

“Hey sweetpea, how you feeling?” Your dad asked with a sympathetic look.

You let out a weak chuckle “shit” you admitted. There was no point denying it, they knew how you felt even if they didn’t know why.

“Has this got something to do with Dan calling us to ask if you were here?” Your mom asked softly.

You nodded, you expected that too. Dan had called Elena Monday evening, she played dumb and said she didn’t know where you were and if she did she wouldn’t tell him “did he tell you why?”

“No he didn’t, he just asked us to call if you turned up” your dad told you. 

You scoffed and shook your head. He didn’t tell Elena what he’d done either, didn’t admit his mistake “Did you tell him I was with El?” 

Your mom shook her head “No we didn’t, we knew that you clearly didn’t want to be around him and we respected that”

“Thank you” your voice felt weak as you looked down “The um- the wedding’s off… he’s been cheating on me with the wedding planner”

“The motherfucker!” Your dad growled shooting up from his seat, only sitting down when your mom grabbed the back of his sweater and tugged him to sit back down.

“More like wedding planner fucker” you joked weakly.

Your mom sighed “I’m so sorry sweetheart you don’t deserve that, he doesn’t deserve you either” 

“Is El looking after you?” Your dad asked.

You nodded “She’s at work now but yeah she has, she’s given me her apartment and her and Chris got me a job working in the PR department with the Bears, I start tomorrow they’re gonna give me a bit of an induction ahead of the game again Washington on Friday night”

“That’s good, will you be travelling with them?” your dad asked.

“No the PR and comms team takes it in turns to go on the road and report back, I’ll just be shadowing the team who stay in Boston and post updates on the match etcetera” you explained.

The new job was a bit of a step down, not just in pay. You’d gone from one of the best PR firms on the West Coast that handled movie stars to being a PR and Comms staff for a sports team. But it was just temporary, you’d find something with better pay once you were a bit more settled.

“Well I’m sure you’ll smash it darling” your mom said, making you snort quietly they’d been living in the UK for less than a year and the British vernacular had already snuck in.

“Thank you and I’m so sorry that the wedding has been called off, I know you guys have put a lot of money into it” you sighed, guilt wracking your body.

“Sweetpea, money means nothing if you’re unhappy, we’d rather you be happy than marry that piece of shit because of the money that’s been spent,” your dad told you.

“And look the wedding wasn’t going to be until spring so we might be able to get some of the deposits back,” your mom said “Why don’t you leave that with us to sort and you just focus on yourself and your happiness”

“Thanks mom, that would be really helpful,” you said, a lump of emotion forming in your throat.

“What are you going to do about Christmas? You’re more than welcome here” your dad said.

“I don’t know, I’ll have to look into it, money is gonna be a bit tighter now and I don’t know what my work commitments will be” you sighed with a shrug of your shoulders.

“That’s okay let us know as soon as you know what you’re doing, you know we’d love to have you” your mom smiled.

“Thanks Mom,” you said before chuckling quietly “I don’t know why I was so scared to have this chat”

“You never have to be scared to talk to us, the only person who should be scared is that piece of shit, I swear he’s dead when I next see him” your dad swore.

You chuckled “that’s good to know, so how is rainy Britain?” You asked to change the topic.

You and your parents caught up for the next hour or so, by the time you finally ended the call you felt so much better. You wished they were here to hug you and make you feel better but just talking to them did enough to make you feel a little less empty. It made taking on the next chapter of your life less scary.

Your first couple of days working at the Bears had been a whirlwind. While you were mostly shadowing over the weekend it still felt like you had been dropped in the deep end. The entire office was a hive of activity during the game. You were used to this level of activity being a bad thing because it meant someone was having a PR disaster. But in this new world, it was a good thing because it meant the team was winning.

You had to admit the excitement was a little contagious, the entire PR team were avid fans. Cheering and complaining at the ref as the game played on the big screen. You didn’t know much about the sport nor the players so you couldn’t follow it very well. You did see Ari get sent off for a yellow, one of your colleagues said he was lucky it wasn’t a red but there was enough mitigation that his high tackle remained as a yellow. What that actually meant you had no clue.

It was Monday morning when your new boss, Steph called you into her office.

“Is everything okay? I haven’t done something wrong have I?” You asked as you followed her into her office.

“No, no, you’ve been great! Frankly, you’re overqualified” She smiled as she sat down “I just want your input on something that’s all” She gestured for you to sit.

“Oh I’m very flattered, I know I don’t know much about the rugby world,” you said bashfully as you sat.

Steph smiled softly “You’ve done a lot of PR work with celebrities back in LA right?” She asked leaning back in her chair.

“Yes my company worked with a lot of celebs” You nodded shifting in your seat.

“Did you do a lot of PR relationships?” She then asked.

You nodded your head again “Yeah there are not as many PR relationships in Hollywood as people think, but I have worked on quite a few” 

“Good, so what makes a successful one?” She asked.

“Um well, it depends on what image you’re trying to get across” you explained.

“Someone settled, someone you can trust and is moving past their wildcard days” Steph  supplied gesturing with her hands in a vague manner.

“Right well you want someone who is that kind of person, no one who grabs the spotlight for the same reasons you’re trying to fix” you told her.

She sat forward and started taking notes “What else?”

“You have to make sure the people are well matched, if one of them has a clear type then you need the meet that type. So if someone has publicly said they like a woman with curves you can’t set them up with a Victoria’s Secret model” you explain.

She hummed studying you for a moment before returning to her notes “Anything else?”

“A mutual connection helps, makes it more believable. If fans and media outlets can easily trace how they would have potentially met then they’re more likely to believe it. So in this case if it was someone a fellow teammate knew, there’s a clear link, if you pick someone who has no connection to the player people are going to be suspicious” you continued.

 “And you’re close with Elena and Chris aren’t you?” 

Your brows furrow for a moment confused as to what the relevance was  “uh yeah Elena is my best friend, I don’t know Chris that well though” you shrugged your shoulders.

“Okay” she hummed tapping her pen against her chin in thought.

“Are you considering it for one of the players?” You asked.

“Yes, I’ve never suggested one before though, usually you just send the players to charity events but he needs a long-term solution” she explained.

“Well if you want I could maybe take the lead, or advise?” You suggested.

A smile tugged at her lips “I’ll keep that in mind, thank you for your insight I have a lot to think about before my meeting with him tomorrow”

“No worries glad to help, is there anything else you need?” You asked.

“No thanks, can you go with the team who will be filming training content? Familiarise yourself with that?” She suggested.

“Of course” you nodded before getting up from your seat.

As you walked back to your desk you wondered which of the team needed a PR relationship. You barely knew any of them, so you could only go on what El had told you. Chris was out for obvious reasons, from what you knew of Curtis you doubted it was him. Ari came to mind but you instantly shook that thought from your head. Not because you didn’t think it was him, but because you didn’t want to work with him. You settled on Johnny instead, even though El said he was a bit of a secret softie he was known as a player. 

You nodded to yourself, yeah it had to be Johnny. You instantly thought of different strategies for him, where to stage the dates. He’d be an easy client too, the only problem would be getting him to keep it in his pants. You just hoped that whatever reason he had would be incentive enough to keep him in line. 

Ari grunted in pain as Elena dug her hand into the back of his shoulder “Jesus fuck woman” he complained, fists clenched “Do you get off on torturing people or something”

Ari hated physio, he swore it was just the medical team’s excuse to get some revenge.

“It’s your own fault you’re here” she pointed out as she continued to work on his shoulder. 

He knew she meant his high tackle that resulted in a yellow card and sore shoulder “There was mitigation” he reminded her. 

“You were lucky, if Chris hadn’t tackled him too your shoulder would have gone straight into the wolves’ head and it would have been a red” Elena pointed out as she finally stopped working on his shoulder. 

“Like I said mitigation” Ari said as he sat back up sending a smirk her way. 

She rolled her eyes “That’s not the only reason I’m pissed at you” she said with a pointed look as she grabbed a towel and wiped her hands clean.

Ari dropped his shoulders with a heavy sigh instantly knowing what she meant again. You. You had been on his mind for over a week now. He was pissed off at himself for the way he treated you, he kept replaying the situation to see what he could have done differently. In the perfect situation, you would have ended up in his arms as he comforted you. He wanted to apologise and make it right but he also didn’t want to make it worse.

 “i know, i just haven't seen her to apologise” he sighed glancing down at his hands. 

“Haven’t seen her or avoided her?” Elena asked with a brow arched “She was in the gym on Monday” 

“I was at my 1-2-1 analysis while she was there” Ari reasoned “getting ripped into by your dad for that yellow” he added a pointed look.

Elena shrugged “You deserved it”

“Whatever” Ari huffed as he pushed himself off the medical bed “Look I promise I'll apologise to her now, I’m heading up to the PR office for a meeting after this” 

“What do you need PR for?” Elena asked her brows furrowed.

“I want to make the national team this summer, your dad said I need to improve both on and off the pitch” Ari explained as he grabbed his top and pulled it back on.

Elena nodded “It is criminal that you haven’t been picked yet” she hummed “Don’t worry I’m sure whatever Y/N has cooked up will work, she’s the best around” she winked before pointing at him “Just don’t make her life difficult, she’s been through enough shit” she warned.

Ari held his hands up in surrender. He still didn’t know the full picture, only that you were back on the East Coast without your engagement ring. He’d asked Chris what had happened but he said it wasn’t his story to share “I swear, I won’t” he promised “You can beat the crap out of me if I do”

Elena smirked “Good, now go on and stop doing stupid shit,” she said waving him out of the medical room. 

Ari huffed as he walked out, he wanted to stop doing stupid shit too. But that was easier said than done. He’d been told that he was hot-headed for as long as he could remember, there were times when it felt like he blacked out and one came back around after he’d done the stupid shit. Like the fight he started at the cup final, he remembered seeing Bryce make the illegal tackle on Chris and then the next thing he remembered was Bryce on the floor below him as he landed multiple blows to the face. 

He’d always been like this. Like there was pent up anger he had at the world. He could blame the first five years of his life for that. He was signed up to play rugby at the age of 7 at the advice of his teachers to try and work through a lot of that anger. Rugby helped a lot, it gave him somewhere to direct his anger and frustrations and work through it in a healthier way. 

It didn’t take away all the pressure though, evident by the way he shouted at you. Another moment when his frustrations got the better of him and he blacked out. He just hoped that you would accept his apology.

He spotted you as soon as he stepped into the PR and Comms office. He couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips as he looked over you. You were standing at a coworker's desk, looking over his shoulder at something on the screen. You had a contemplative look on your face, your red-tinted lips pursed. You listened to whatever your co-worker was saying before nodding your head, arms crossed over your chest. You were wearing a red sweater that seemed a little baggy on you but still looked incredible. Especially with the black skirt and knee-high boots you were wearing.  

When you finished what you were saying you finally looked up and over at him. The expression on your face became guarded as you studied him. He expected you to tilt your head up in defiance but you did the opposite. Your chin dropped as you went to move back to your desk, shoulders turned inwards. 

Ari internally cursed at himself, he’d fucked up majorly if you weren’t fighting back against him like you did back in LA.

“Y/N,” he said as he stepped in your path. 

“Ari,” you said forcing a smile as you looked up at him, which was wrong you should have crossed your arms and arched an unimpressed brow at him. 

“I wanted to apologise for the other week, I was out of line” he apologised “I was tired and was having a shitty day and I took my anger out on the first person I came across”

“That’s no excuse” you pointed out as you looked down at your feet.

That response was closer to what he expected from you, the words were right but the delivery was off. The words should have been sharper, not downtrodden. 

“You’re right it's not,” Ari said before holding his arms out “So c’mon rip into me” he invited with a playful smirk “We both know how well you can do it, knock me down a peg or two” 

You studied him for a moment. Ari could see the gears turning in your head which made his smirk grow. He knew you were going to come out with something brilliant, something that would knock a less confident man out. He couldn’t wait. He wanted to see that side of you again, he wanted to play. 

“I’ve got work to do” you muttered as you dropped your gaze and stepped around him.

Ari frowned as he turned around “Y/N” he muttered in disbelief, his hands dropping back down to his side. 

“I’m busy Ari and I’m sure you have training or something” you sighed as you refused to look at him as you gathered a notebook from your desk.

“Y/N c’mon” he pressed stepping in your way as you went to walk away again, “I said I was sorry, why are you still freezing me out?”

“Apology accepted, now leave me alone I have a meeting” you said looking up at him with a tired expression on your face. 

Ari’s brows furrowed in concern as he took you in, how tired and worn out you looked. It made his fists clenched. Whatever happened back in LA did this to you and he wanted to know what so he could beat the crap out of it. 

“Y/N,” he said softly. 

He reached out to put a hand on your shoulder, feeling the need to provide comfort in any way he could. He wanted to ask what happened, what he could do to make it better and bring back the version he knew.

He didn’t get the chance though, before his hand even made contact he was interrupted by Steph “Ah Ari, perfect timing, we have the perfect strategy for you” she smiled from her office. 

He didn’t look away from you so he saw how your brows furrowed in confusion, looking over at Steph and then back at him. 

He let out a quiet sigh as he took a step back “Glad to hear it” he said as he turned and walked towards her office.

He stopped though when she said “Good, right c’mon Y/N” She waved for you to join.

He looked over his shoulder and saw you take a deep breath as you looked down at your boots. The fake smile plastered on back on your face when you looked back up and said “Of course”

Ari blinked in surprise when you walked past him into Steph’s office. You didn’t know he was your meeting and clearly weren't happy being trapped in a small office with him for the next half an hour or so. Evident by the way you sat in one of the furthest away chairs. 

“Right I have decided on the best strategy for you, and I want to remind you that you said you’d do anything” Steph said as Ari sat down in his chair. 

“That doesn’t concern me at all” he smirked as he leant back. 

“Trust me this will work” Steph smiled “We’re going to set you up with a PR relationship for the rest of the season”

Ari arched a brow, he wasn’t expecting that at all. He expected lots of charity work, which he wouldn’t have minded, but not this “a relationship?” 

“Yes, we want to portray you as settled or at least settling, what better way to do that than a relationship” Steph said with a proud.

Ari nodded slowly as he took in the information “With who?”

The smile on Steph’s face widens “Well we want this to work so I’ve brought in the best” she grinned before turning her attention to you “Y/N will be the perfect match”

“Excuse me?” you squeaked in surprise. 

Ari frowned, you had clearly been blindsided by this idea. Something that didn’t sit right with him, it wasn’t fair on you. 

“Yes you said so yourself, there needs to be a mutual connection and you were the only person we found that had one” Steph explained as she gestured over to you “Plus you know how to do this better than anyone, I trust you to take lead on this”

“Steph this isn’t going to work” you stuttered sitting forward in your chair “I’ve just broken off an engagement, no one would believe this”

“Is there any evidence of your relationship online?” Steph asked, her head tilted in question.

“Uh- no, I- I deleted everything,” you said your voice cracking. 

“Well that’s one less thing to worry about, plus it's not uncommon for people to get into a relationship soon after another” Steph points out. 

“There must be someone else” you pleaded.

Ari’s heart broke, as much as he would love just the chance to be your boyfriend even if it was just pretend, he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. 

“Not someone who fits the criteria you gave me, and we need this to work for Ari” Steph sighed, her voice sympathetic “you’ll be in charge and will take the lead on it so you’ll have control over what happens, you can make it suit you, I only ask that it's believable” she continued before turning her attention back to Ari “what do you say?”

Ari took a moment before turning and looking at you, hoping his expression conveyed how sincere he was “I’m in if you’re in” he said softly “I need this and I trust you, but if you really don’t want to do it then we don’t have to”

You sat there stunned, staring back at him with a look of panic in your eyes. 

“Why don’t I leave you two to talk it through some more and get back to me when you’ve come to a decision” Steph said as she stood from her chair and strode out of the room. 

Once she was gone Ari turned to look at you, your hand was resting on your heaving chest, the look of panic in your eyes getting worse. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” Ari said moving to crouch in front of you, keeping enough distance between the two of you to make sure you were comfortable “Take some deep breaths,” he told you, when you didn’t respond he put a cautious hand on your knee “deep breaths sweetheart”

You finally responded to him and took the deep breaths you needed, your eyes finding his. He watched as the panic slowly faded from them with every deep breath you took.

“Feeling better?” he asked after a moment. 

“Not really” you admitted as you shook your head, “I thought it was gonna be Johnny that needed this not you” you muttered as you rubbed your forehead “and that I would just be leading it not actually part of it”

“Yeah, I didn’t like how she blindsided you with that” Ari told her earning a huff of a laugh from you.

“You could say that again” you mumbled “What do you even need this for? I mean you got yellow cards recently but I thought those weren’t a big deal” 

Ari nodded his head “Normally they’re not, but if I don’t reign myself in this season I won’t make the national team, the head coach is gonna be watching me and I want him to know he can trust me” he explained. 

“You’re doing this for a spot on the national team?” you questioned “Seems a bit extreme”

Ari let out a small chuckle “Yeah well I’m pretty desperate, it’s been a dream of mine ever since I was a kid, a dream that hasn’t happened yet” he admitted. 

“Right” you muttered looking down at your fiddling hands. 

“Can I ask what happened back in LA?” Ari asked, causing your eyes to shoot back up at him. 

You took a couple of moments before admitting “My fiance cheated on me with the wedding planner”

“The fucker” Ari growled making you jump “Sorry” he apologised taking a deep breath to calm himself “Well dating a sexy rugby player is a great way to say fuck you to him” he then smirked. 

You rolled your eyes “Yeah but Johnny’s not the one who needs it” you muttered making Ari grin. This was the side of you that was missing, it wasn’t completely gone it just needed coaxing back out. 

“There she is” Ari whispered earning a small confused frown from you “Look I won’t lie to you and say I don’t need this because I really really do, but considering all the shit you’re going through and the fact I don’t think you’ve actually accepted my apology” Ari continued “it's up to you, take the time you need to think it through and I promise if you decide to do this I won’t make your life difficult and I’ll do whatever you say”

You took a deep breath and nodded your head “Yeah okay… I’ll think it through and I’ll um get back to you”

“Great, that's all I can ask for” Ari said standing back up “And look I’m sorry about your fiance, he’s a dick and clearly insane for not realising he already had the most incredible woman on the planet” he said, Your lips parted in surprise as you stared up at him. 

You went to say something but Ari didn’t want to hear you turn him down so he just flashed you a smile and walked “See you soon” he said as he stepped out.

You thought about Ari’s proposition all day and still couldn’t come to an answer. You thought it would be a simple answer, a straight-up no, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say it. There was a small niggling thought at the back of your mind that was holding you back. 

So instead of going straight home after work, you went to Chris and Elena’s house to talk it out with them. Hopefully hearing them say it was an insane idea would reassure that little thought and you could just say no. 

So here you were sitting on the couch, feet tucked up beneath you as you cradled a cup of tea. You would have preferred a glass of wine or something stronger but you needed a clear head, drunk decisions were almost always bad decisions. 

“Right, so what is it that Steph wants you to do?” Elena asked as she sat down on the adjacent couch next to Chris, their dog Dodger jumping up to join them. 

“She wants me to be Ari’s fake girlfriend for the rest of the season” you sighed, running your finger around the rim of your mug. 

“Why you?” she questioned. 

“Because I stupidly gave her the perfect criteria and I match it” you scoffed shaking your head “the mutual connection, someone who’s looking to settle down” you didn’t say the part about being his type because you weren’t quite sure what to do with that information yourself. 

“And there’s no one else?” Chris asked as he scratched Dodger behind the ear. 

“Apparently not” you shrugged, “Steph said she trusted me because of my expertise in the area”

Chris hummed and nodded his head “What did Ari say about it?”

“He’s in, said he’s desperate to make the national team and is willing to do whatever it takes” you sighed, taking a sip of your tea. 

“Makes sense, he’s 30 now, will be 31 by the next world cup and 35 at the one after, but he might have retired by then” Chris shrugged “This might be his last chance”

You let out a small huff “Thanks that doesn’t make me feel guilty at all”

Chris gave you an apologetic smile “Sorry, it’s just that being his captain I want to see him make that team, it would be awesome to play alongside him at the world cup”

“Why is it that you don’t want to do it? I mean before last week you two seemed to get on pretty fine” Elena asked as she sat forward a bit.

That was another problem. You two did get along well, too well. You could recall the first time you saw him, you noticed him the moment he walked into the hotel. It was like a moment in a romance novel when the female lead sees her love interest and the whole world stops for a moment. 

You’d looked away before he spotted you, you were engaged and couldn’t be ogling other men. When he came over and shook your hand it made your entire body jolt and your next breath felt like the very first. You tried to put up a front and push him away but he kept coming straight back and you felt your resolve breaking. You had felt so guilty at the time, especially when you had a less-than-innocent dream about him that night. 

You had tried to forget about him, but he seemed rooted in your mind. When you watched the livestream of the cup final you told yourself it was for Elena’s sake, even if you had told her you wouldn’t be watching. But deep down you knew it was because of a large man with gorgeous long locks and a thick beard. 

“Because I just got out of a long-term relationship” you landed on with a sigh “I can’t just fall back into another one”

“It's not a real one though” Elena pointed out “You’ll still be single, and you’ll have time to be single for a while without interference and find who you are without Dan”

“I guess” you sighed.

“And we both know Dan is going to work out you’re here if he hasn’t already, if he saw you had moved on with a big beefy rugby player he’s gonna be too scared to try and win you back” Elena added. 

“You know when I came over I expected you to agree that it was a bad idea” you pointed out over the top of your mug, taking another large sip.

Elena chuckled “I’m sorry but I wouldn’t be a good friend if I straight up lied to you” she pointed out “I understand where you’re coming from but I can see how this benefits you too”

“Yeah and frankly i don’t think you could find someone better to do this sort of thing with” Chris added.

“You really think you should do this?” you sighed. 

“I think you should at least give it a go” Elena nodded. 

You took a deep breath. Everything they said was true, yeah you would be in a fake relationship in person but in private you would be single and undisturbed. Ari would provide you with that privacy, and in return, you could help him achieve his childhood dream.

“Okay fine I’ll do it” you sighed in resignation. 

Elena smiled back excitedly “Yes this is gonna be great!” she grinned “You should let him know now”

“Not now, we’ll have to go over the rules and the plan,” you said shaking your head. 

“You could invite him over here? Go over it together with us?” Chris suggested with a shrug of his shoulders.

“You’re not going to drop this are you?” you sighed knowingly.

“Nope. please this is so exciting! It's like something out of a movie!” Elena grinned. 

You rolled your eyes “Fine, but I don’t have his number so you’ll have to call him”

“Sure not a problem” Chris said reaching into his back pocket to grab his phone.

Faster than you expected Ari was knocking on the front door. Dodger instantly ran to greet him, you could hear Ari’s deep chuckle down the hallway. Chris and him were chatting as they walked towards the living room. You noticed that his long hair was damp, it wasn’t raining so you wondered whether he’d just gotten out of the shower when Chris called. The mental image of Ari in the shower flashed through your mind, your mouth went dry at the image, all the moisture travelling elsewhere. You cleared your throat and shifted in your seat as you pushed the mental image from your mind. 

Ari’s gaze shifted to you and a lopsided smile grew on his lips “Y/N” he greeted.

You cleared your throat again “Ari” 

“Chris said you wanted to talk to me about the whole fake dating thing,” he said as he walked over and sat on the same couch as you. 

You took a deep breath, which you quickly regretted because even though he was sitting on the opposite end of the couch you could smell his body wash. It was pine with a hint of citrus, it was fresh and comforting all at the same time. 

“Uh yeah, I uh thought it over and I think we should do it but we have to lay out some rules” You shifted and turned towards him, fidgeting with your hands in your lap. 

“Of course, like Steph said you’re in charge and I’m your puppet” he smirked reclining back, arm resting across the back of the couch.

Your gaze shifted to his hand, his long thick fingers which were now much closer to you. You hadn’t noticed how large his hands were. Your mind started down the rabbit hole again, you wondered how warm and comforting they were. How they might feel against your body… holding you…

“So what rules have you got in mind?” Ari’s fingers drummed against the couch breaking you out of your trance. 

“Right yes rules” You cleared your throat, shifting further away from him “Well obviously we cannot tell anyone about this, the fewer people that know the better”

Ari nodded “of course, I’m assuming you two won’t say anything” he glanced over to Chris and Elena. 

“Lips are sealed” Elena confirmed, “what about your parents though Tommi?”

You shrugged your shoulders “with them in England it should be fine, especially since we’re gonna take this slow, a whirlwind romance doesn’t sell settling down” you looked over at Ari who was rubbing his hand over his beard “what about your parents?”

“Same as you, they’re travelling” he hummed “How slow are we taking this?”

“Uh well we need to lay some groundwork first” you explained “like establishing that I’m here in Boston not LA”

“What about your ex? Are you sure you want him to know that?” Ari frowned, hand dropping back down to the back of the couch. 

“Not really, but I’ve blocked him and any of his friends so I should be fine,” you told him. 

Ari tightly nodded “As long as you’re sure, so what’s after that?”

“Uh well, maybe a social event that we’re both at, somewhere where we can appear in the back of photos chatting?” you suggested.

“Johnny is throwing a Halloween party next week? You could be my plus one” Elena suggested. 

“What about me?” Chris huffed looking over at Elena.

“You have your own invite meatball” Elena slapped his chest, shaking her head at him. 

“Okay yeah that works, there will be group photos and we can be in the background of a couple” you nodded thinking it through in your head “It’ll establish a when and where we met”

“But we met back in LA, don’t tell me you forgot that lunch?” Ari pointed out, a fake look of hurt on his face.

You rolled your eyes “It will establish it for people online” you clarified before taking another deep breath “And then after that, we need a time where we meet up, maybe as a four?”

“We can go to brunch?” Chris suggested. 

“Perfect, and then we just need to go out a couple of times just us two but we can decide on that later, are there any events I should be aware of?” You asked glancing around at everyone, only allowing yourself to look at Ari for a second or two.

“Only Thanksgiving and the Christmas charity dinner at the beginning of December, the rest of our events are at the end of the season” Ari explained.

“You don’t go home for Thanksgiving?” You frowned, you couldn’t imagine not spending time with your family for Thanksgiving. Although it didn’t look like you’d be able to fly to England to celebrate with your parents this year.

“It depends on what day the match is that weekend, if it’s Sunday or Saturday some players do go home to family but if it’s Friday like it is this year my dad organises a team Thanksgiving for players who don’t have family in the state” El explained “players can bring a friend or their partner”

“Are you going to your parents?” Ari asked grabbing your attention.

You shifted in your seat, glancing down at your fiddling fingers unable to focus with his intense gaze “I don’t know, it might be too expensive this year” 

“I could help if-“ Ari started but you interrupted. As much as you wanted to see your parents for Thanksgiving, you didn’t want to owe Ari money.

“No it’s fine, me going to this player's thanksgiving is good for PR, it can essentially confirm the relationship and then we’ll make our official outing as a couple at the charity dinner” you said with a sharp shake of your head.

It looked like Ari went to argue but when his eyes met yours his mouth snapped shut. He cleared his throat and nodded in agreement “sounds like a good plan… what else do we need to discuss?”

You were grateful for the slight change in topic but the only thing left to discuss was the part that made you the most uncomfortable. Public displays of affection. You knew you couldn’t outright ban it but you just weren’t sure how you felt about Ari holding you and kissing you. 

“Right” your voice came out strained so you cleared your throat “Of course we will have to do some PDA but we should ease into it as a normal couple would and we should clear it with each other beforehand”

Ari nodded “Understandable, I’m not one for big displays of public displays of affection”

You breathed out a sigh of relief even though there was a small part of you that was ever so slightly disappointed. You pushed that part away though, you had just gotten out of a serious relationship, you needed to be single for a while and focus on yourself. Even if you did have to be in a fake relationship to do so. The irony was not lost on you.

“Cool I think that’s it for now, I’ll um plan out more of the strategy for later on is there anything you want to ask?”

“What’s the end date on this?” Ari asked.

“Well I guess once we know if you’ve made the team we can start putting things in place that lead to the eventual breakup” you shrugged “which works nicely since I’ll probably want to move onto a better-paid job in New York or something”

Ari frowned “You don’t plan on staying here?”

“You just got here” Elena pouted.

You looked over at Elena and felt instantly guilty “I know and I’m grateful for what you guys have done but sports PR is a bit of a step-down, I’m staying on the east coast though so we’ll be able to see each other easily”

Elena gave you an understanding smile “Guess I can live with that” she playfully rolled her eyes.

You smiled back before shifting your gaze back to Ari who still looked unhappy at the idea of you moving. For whatever reason you had no clue. You could practically see the cogs in his head turning as he looked back at you with an unhappy frown. It made your hands itch like you wanted to reach out and comfort him. It made you quickly jump up from the couch, you needed out. Especially when Ari’s frown changed to one of concern at your sudden motion.

“Right if that’s everything, I’m gonna head home because it’s been a long day” you ran your hand through your hair, pushing it from your face.

Ari slowly rose from the couch “Me too, I’ll walk you out” he said barely looking away from you as he said “Thanks for having us Evans”

Both Chris and Elena had amused looks on their faces as they looked up at you “sure we’ll see you both at the Halloween party” Chris nodded.

“Thanks, I’ll see you tomorrow El” You cleared your throat and grabbed your bag and made a swift exit.

Ari with his long legs had no issue keeping up with you, following you at the door and towards your car. His jeep parked next to yours, you had expected him to be more of an Audi kinda guy. You had seen more sides of him since landing in Boston than you expected. The angry, grumpy side, the cheeky side and a really calming and sincere side.

You couldn’t forget the way he put his hand on your knee and calmed you down with just that gesture in Steph’s office earlier today. The way he had apologised and told you how blind your ex was. An apology that you had yet to officially accept. You paused as you reached your car, you couldn’t go into a fake relationship and not accept his apology.

With a deep sigh, you quickly turned around. Ari’s brow quirking in surprise as you looked up at him “I accept your apology for the other day, you had a bad day and so had I, it’s all water under the bridge”

Ari nodded “My bad day was no excuse, I am really sorry and I promise not to hurt you like that again” he held his hand over his heart.

“Thank you… I’ll um see you at the party or at work I guess” You nodded, and just as you turned back towards your car Ari spoke up. 

“Hey I know you said about asking before doing public displays of affection, but what about the other kind of PDA?” Ari asked. 

You frowned in confusion and turned to face him “What other kinds?” surprised to find him a couple of steps closer. 

Ari smirked down at you “private displays of affection”

You let out a scoff that sounded more like a squeak “Definitely not”

“C’mon we can call it practice, the only reason I play well on game days is because of practice” he points out “It’ll mean you’re not as awkward when it happens”

“What about you?”

“Trust me the last thing I’ll be feeling is awkward”

You thought about his reasoning. You had seen plenty of fake couples who couldn’t sell it because they seemed uncomfortable in each other’s presence. The slight flinches here and there.

“Fine but you have to ask” you huffed starting to turn back towards your car.

“Good, so can I kiss you?” Ari asked 

“Now?” You squeaked.

“Yeah I don’t see why not” he shrugged “It's dark, no one’s around, seems pretty perfect otherwise I’d have to sneak to your apartment or something and risk getting caught and that’ll blow the going slow part” he sighed.

“Fine! One kiss” you snapped glaring up at him.

Ari’s smirk grew as he stepped closer and cupped your jaw “one kiss” he promised with a whisper before leaning in.

Your intention had been to pull away a second later. It didn’t need to be anything more than a peck. But it was like your mind shortcircuited and instead of pulling away you stepped forward. Your hands moved to rest on his chest as he tilted your head back, his other hand moving to the small of your back to pull you closer. 

You had planned to be the one to pull away but when Ari did you found yourself chasing his lips. 

“I’d say that was a perfect practice attempt,” he said, voice low as his thumb brushed over your cheekbone.

That snapped you back to reality. You scurried back until your back hit your car door. Your hand touched your lips as they continued to tingle. 

“Yes, right. Bye. I’ll um see you at work or the party or” you didn’t finish your sentence. You just got in the car, slammed the door shut and drove off as quickly as you could.

You glanced in the rearview mirror as Ari disappeared into the distance. You could see him laughing as he shook his head, watching you go.

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