𝒜𝓃𝑔𝑒𝓁

Shane wiped the blood off his face as he stood up from the man under him, the crowd stood and cheered, chanting his name as Shane raised his fist, yelling back to the crowd.

Shane's team surrounded him inside the cage, his coach hugging him tightly, Shane smiled once his coach let him go he turned back to the crowd, there she was staring back at him.

Shane threw a wink towards where his girlfriend Rose sat in the crowd.

After the interviews and calling out men, he knew all he had to do was huff hard enough and he'd win against them.

Shane walked back into the locker room, a towel wrapped around his hips, his hair slick with water. The door opened, Shane looked over towards the door. Smiling when he saw miss Rose Landry.

"Rose. How'd you get past security?" He asked her, turning around to put his dirty clothes in his duffel bag and taking out a clean pair.

Rose smirked, "Wow, one hit to the head makes you forget that I'm just as famous as you." She chuckled softly.

Shane shook his head, "I didn't take any hits to the head, not today." Shane corrected her with a straight face as if he was offended by her comment.

"Well, besides that. I wanted to tell you bye, I'm gone for the week, shooting in Paris. Y'know...famous people stuff." She exhaled.

Shane rolled his eyes even if she couldn't see them. "Okay. Thank you." He looked up, "Call me when you land." He said.

Rose winked, "Always." She took a step to him, getting on the tip of her toes to kiss him, his lips didn't move against her lips. "Buh-bye Shane." She spoke as she turned and left the locker room.

Shane exhaled a breath after the door closed behind her. He turned, changing into his clean clothes.

Shane left the locker room, walking past security. Duffel bag hanging off one shoulder as he walked down the tunnel.

"Shane! My boy." He heard behind him, Shane turned exhaling slightly at the sight of his best friend.

"Hayden." He answered, "Congrats man, saw you put up a hell of a fight out there." Hayden came to walk beside Shane down the hall.

Shane smirked, "Didn't have to do much actually, he tapped out in the first five minutes." Hayden chuckled, "Damn, cocky one ain't ya." He said as the finally made it outside.

Shane moved to his car, tossing his bag in the trunk. He turned facing Hayden. He hummed, watching Hayden smile down on at his phone, the screen lit up.

"What is it?" Shane asked, stuffing his hands in his pockets. Hayden looked up from his phone, "Where are you going after this?" He asked.

Shane's brows furrowed, "Home, I'm pretty drained so-" He was cut off by Hayden grabbing his shoulders with now a big smile on his face.

"We're going to a boxing match. A friend of a friend hooked me up, and were set baby" Hayden wooed.

Shane took Hayden's hands off of him, "Hayden, I would never see a boxing match." Shane huffed.

Hayden's eyes rolled as he groaned, "Oh god, drop the one sided rivalry and go watch some boys get rough."

Shane exhaled, "It's not one sided, that whole sport is full of assholes who think their better than any breathing being on earth." Shane crossed his arms over his chest.

Hayden rolled his eyes with a groan, "Blah, blah, bullshit. You're going, hey you might even take a few pointers." Hayden smirked with a shrug.

Shane hit Hayden on the arm before moving to slip into the driver's seat, Hayden in the passenger next to him.

The ride there was silent to say the least. Hayden kept his gaze out the window, Shane drove occasionally humming to the lyrics of the song that echoed off the radio.

Just Dance - Lady Gaga

As they entered the venue Shane was pulled by his arm, he stumbled before walking alongside Hayden at a fast pace.

"C'mon, got us VIP tickets, we're gonna be late to meet the fighters." Hayden spoke as he dragged Shane through the large crowd of boxing fans.

Once they finally got in Hayden let Shane go, Shane looked around the huge arena the one he fought in wasn't this big, never could be.

He exhaled, his eyes found their way back to Hayden who had his phone out, filming the sorrounding.

"You don't get this fan-boyish when it comes to my fights." Shane pointed out. Hayden turned to Shane, his camera pointed at his face.

"Because your my best friend not my idol." He winked. "Asshole." Shane smiled.

Shane turned away from Hayden again to look at the arena, his eyes stayed locked on the trophies staff was putting up. His jaw clenched, was it envy? Resentment? Sadness? Maybe even happiness for who ever owned those four trophies.

"Your Hayden? I'm Ilya." Shane heard behind him, his brows furrowed. Ilya? Like Ilya Rozanov? The Russian man-whore who tweeted just how much he'd like so see baby MMA fighters like Shane Hollander get just as many gold medals as him.

Shane turned, his jaw clenching tighter, his best friend shaking hands with Rozanov. Was this what he wanted? For Shane to get pissed? What, for the two to fight? What the fuck was he thinking?

Ilya looked up towards Shane, his stupid smirk returned, "Shane Hollander. I've been dying to meet you." Ilya took a step towards him, extending out a hand.

"You hate tweet about me." Shane grumbled, his fist clenched by his sides. Ilya laughed, like actually laughed. What was fucking funny?

Ilya sighed after his giggle fit. "Aw c'mon. No way you bought that. Hollander believes the media, what a joke." Ilyas hand dropped down to his side.

Shane scoffed, "Excuse you?" He took a step towards the Russian blonde. Hayden extended his arm between the two. "Woah, ladies. Come on now." Hayden looked between the two.

"Excuse him, he just finished a big fight." Hayden smiled looked at Ilya, Shane looked at Hayden then back to Ilya.

He scoffed, "It wasn't a big fight. He tapped five minutes in." Shane corrected Hayden. Ilya smirked, "Wow, am I supposed to be impressed...?" Ilya smirked, his shoulders shrugging.

Shane opened his mouth to silence Ilya but the Russian cut him off before he even started, "Eh eh." He shook his head, he extended his hand towards Shane again.

"I'm sorry." Rozanov spoke, it sounded forced. Shane looked over to the side, and sure as hell it definitely was forced. Two camera men stood with their big cameras pointed to the two men.

Ilya grabbed Shane's hand forcefully, he brough his mouth to Shane's ear whispering something to him. "Keep up your good boy act, hm. I like it." Ilya spoke before he pulled back, that same smirk plastered on his face.

Ilya turned when his team approached him, walking him back towards where the locker room should be.

Shane's jaw clenched then let go, his hand felt weirdly cold, like if the contact made him sweat. He wasn't nervous to meet Ilya. Ilya is a legend but he wasn't Shane's idol or anything. Just a guy he'd watch on the boxing channel in his hotels frequently. Just the guy who's wink was engraved in his head. Just the guy who made Shane question his-

"Shane!" Hayden pushed Shane's slightly, Shane snapped back into reality, looking towards Hayden, "Sorry, lets sit." He swallowed. "What'd he say to you?" Hayden asked as they sat down front row.

Shane shrugged, "Couldn't hear him," He lied, Rozanov's words were already setting inside Hollanders head and they sure did plan to stay.

After the game Shane had dropped off Hayden at his house, greeting his wife and million kids in the process.

Shane entered his hotel lobby. The sound of the busy bar caught his attention. He was exhausted from the past 24 hours but a cold drink could help? Maybe?

Shane took off his jacket holding it in his hand and as he walked over to the bar. He moved to a barstool seat. The only empty one and of course it was between two people. His jacket draped over the seat.

He waved down a bartender, "One shirley temple, please." He muttered to the man behind the counter.

He nodded, making the drink in front of him. He felt his phone buzz in his jeans pocket. Shane reached down and grabbed it he exhaled of slight relief when he saw the text message from Rose.

Rose: Landed. The hotel they put me in is so run down I'm scared I might die in the middle of the night lmao

Shane: Please don't.

Rose: I saw you met the Russian prince

Shane: Please don't remind me.

Rose: Lol, he can't be that bad in person

Shane: He's not. He is worse.

Rose: Wow. Maybe he found you cute I know a few Russians who flirt mean?

Shane: Please, Rose. I don't need you to be a wingman and my girlfriend it feels wrong.

Rose: Girlfriend to the public wingman in private, perfect if you ask me

Shane: You should sleep, you have a shoot tomorrow. Right?

Rose: Wow look at youuu

I do. Ughhh I'll call you tomorrow, night

Shane: Good night.

Shane put his phone faced down by his drink as the bartender slip him his glass, he thanked him with a nod as he took it.

Shane looked over his shoulder, bodies around the hotel bar either, sitting, drinking, or waddling back towards the elevator with another being.

He left out a breath, Shane wasn't a fan of drunk people but you didn't have to know him to know it. Drunk want good for business, relationships, life in general.

Shane's eyes glanced over to his right. The side of a man's face, blonde curly hair on his head, a few scars on his cheek, a glass of vodka being nursed in his hands.

The thought of Ilya returned to his mind, Shane looked away back down to his glass. "Stupid..." He muttered to himself.

Shane took a big gulp from the glass before setting it back down. He stood, grabbing his jacket from the chair.

A hand reached out to his wrist to stop him, Shane turned.

Of course. He just had to be in the same hotel as this man, and also be unknowingly drinking next to him.

Ilya fucking Rozanov.

"Ilya." Shane muttered, he regretted the words the second they left his mouth.

Ilya stood up to his full height, "Your following me." He said more like a statement than a question. Shane's brows furrowed. "Why would I be following you?" He scoffed.

"Don't be full of yourself." Shane reached down to remove Ilyas hands from his wrist and Ilya let go willingly.

Ilya grinned, full of teeth and drunk lust. "C'mon, admit it. You like me." Shane scoffed, "Oh please-" He started just for Ilya to cut him off.

"You like the chase, you like that I don't like you and you enjoy being compared to me." Rozanov took a step closer to Shane. "Tell me I'm wrong." He breathed out, so close Shane could taste the vodka on his lips.

Shane's jaw clenched, "Fuck off." He turned heading towards the elevators Ilya right on his tail.

"What's your room number?" Ilya asked Shane as he pressed the call button next to the metal doors.

"I wont tell you." Shane answered, his grip on his jacket tightened like he was fighting demons. He hated Ilya, right? So why was it so tempting to tell him exactly where he would be spending the night?

Ilya huffed behind Shane and he would've thought the Russian was pouting behind him.

The door opened and Shane entered and of course so did Ilya, he didn't say anything. Either he gave up or was planning something new to say.

Shane couldn't handle the silence, he turned and looked at Ilya but the man was already looking at him. "...Why did you say that to me earlier?" Shane asked.

Ilya straightened, his hands in his pockets. "I mean it." He shrugged.

Shane's brows furrowed, "I don't get it. Why would you like anything about me?" He spoke.

Ilya took two steps to Shane, Shane's back met the metal elevator walls as Ilya backed him up.

"Who said I didn't like you?" Ilya asked, his hand trailing up Shane's arm. Shane swallowed, "The media..?" Shane spoke with his voice lower.

Ilya smirked, his thumb tracing over Shane's jaw. "You believe the media very well." He hummed. His eyes tracing his fingers movement.

"I like it. Show's that you have obedience." Ilya spoke, lowering his voice. The elevator beeped, Ilya didn't move till Shane did.

They both left the elevator, Ilya still following Shane. "I'm not inviting you in." Shane said as he stopped in front of a door. Ilya walked to the door next to his.

"I won't make you. But my door is open." Ilya offered it like it was nothing. Ilya didn't look gay, but Shane didn't either. The actor girlfriend was a great coverup.

Shane watched as Ilya left into his room, he didn't hear the sound of it locking on the other side.

Shane entered his room, closing the door behind him. He walked towards the bed, dropping his jacket on the matress. Shane puffed out a breath.

He moved towards the bathroom, he stripped down to nothing, turning on the shower. He let the water cascade down his body.

A breathe left his mouth, his hands ran down his body, the thought of Ilya came back to him.

Shane paused, Ilya was an asshole, no, don’t let him win. Not this time.

Shane finished his shower quickly before stepping out into the bathroom, he wiped a hand in the foggy mirror staring back at him. Purple and yellow bruises painted and scattered his pale skin.

Shane grabbed the smaller towel rolled up into the hotel sink counter, rubbing it across his hair till it was damp. Shane left the bathroom, he dried his skin before stepping into a new pair of clothes.

He fixed his favorite navy blue, hockey team sweater on his body, paired with black athletic shorts.

Shane tossed himself onto the bed, he exhaled in relief. Felt good to finally be in bed after a day like the one he just had.

He heard a sound come through the wall, the side where Ilya Rozanov should be.

He sat up listening incase the sound came again, the sound of a loud grunt came through the plaster.

Shane shot up, he was worried. Why? Maybe cause a fellow man he sorta knew was in trouble.

Shane left his hotel room, standing in front of the door that led to the Russian.

He stood there for a moment contemplating if he should even be here, maybe he stubbed his toe or hit his head? He didn't have to be so worried over a man like Ilya.

Shane shook his head, if he didn't check up on this man he'd be up all nigh thinking about it.

Shane lifted his fist lightly tapping it against the door.

He took a step back looking down the hall to see if anyone was coming down the hallway as if what he was doing was illegal.

The door opened, Ilya stood there with a towel wrapped low around his waist.

He smirked once he saw who was knocking on his door.

"You couldn't resist it could you?" Ilya tilted his head at Shane. He stepped aside to let the other man come inside his hotel room.

Shane rejected his offer with a shake of his head, "I just wanted to check if you were alright. I heard something." Shane cleared his throat, he kept his eyes everywhere but Ilyas.

Ilya noticed.

"Come inside, I'd rather talk to you with clothes on." Ilya spoke. Shane nodded, that made sense.

Shane slowly stepped inside, his hotel wasn't much different from his. His sheet's already messy as if the first thing he did was lay down once he got inside.

His suitcase in the corner of the room, a Russian flag tied around the handle.

A finished cigarette in the ashtray, a black lighter next to it.

An unopened bottle of vodka on his dresser.

Shane let out a cold breath. Something about standing in enemy territory felt good to him.

Like he was testing himself.

Ilya cleared his throat behind Shane, causing him to turn.

Ilya had only sweatpants on, still topless. “You were saying?” Ilya spoke.

Shane swallowed the lump in his throat, “I uh…heard something. Just wanted to make sure you were alright.” He nodded.

Ilya smirked, “Ah. I see. You know…usually I don’t go for boring-sticktobook-Canadians but, you seem fun.” He shrugged, his hands in his pocket as he took a step toward Shane.

Shane took a step back, “What? No I-I just came to make sure your-“ “Fine? Yes I heard.” Ilya took a step to Shane again.

Shane stepped backwards the back of his knees hit the edge of the mattress making him sit down.

Ilya looked down at him, using his knee to spread Shane’s legs apart to allow himself to stand between them.

The tension between the both wasn’t just rival wise, it wasn’t just because of Ilyas hate tweets either.

“Oh mister Hollander, what will I do with you…” Ilya whispered, his right hand coming out his pocket to cradle Shane’s chin.

Shane looked up at Ilya, the light reflecting off his big brown eyes.

Ilya swiped the pad of his thumb on Shane’s bottom lip.

"What a good trick..." Ilya muttered, his eyes tracing his thumb, Shane's doe eyes watched him.

"She isn't even your type, thought you'd find a better coverup." Ilya looked up at Shane.

Shane's brows furrowed, "What?" Ilya cut to the chase, "Rose, your fake girlfriend." Ilya was blunt. Like the name Rose on his tounge was the equivalent to thorns.

Ilyas thumb slipped past Shane's pink lips, Shane's tounge welcomed him in. His lips wrapping around him like a lollipop.

"Obedient." Ilya repeated.

Shane hated that word, moving Ilyas hand away from him, a string of saliva keeping them connected.

"What's wrong?" Ilya asked, a flash of worry in his eyes.

"You keep calling me that." Shane stood, Ilya didn't step back, they were practically nose to nose.

"Aw, did I hurt your feelings?" Ilya pouted, "Fuck you." Shane smirked. He was liking this.

Ilya grinned, "Soon." Ilya promised. He pushed Shane back onto the mattress, letting him scoot himself up till he was in the middle.

Ilya was in no rush, taking off his sweatpants.

Shane exhaled, catching Ilyas attention. "What? The baby impatient?" Ilya looked up at Shane as he kicked off his pants leaving him in his boxers.

"You're such an asshole" Shane smiled up at Ilya as he crawled over him.

Shane reached down to the edge of his sweater, starting to pull it up. Ilya stopped him, "Let me." He spoke.

Shane didn't fight it, he watched as Ilya Rozanov removed his sweater, tossing it before moving to his athletic shorts. His hands soft on the other mans skin.

It was unlike Ilya. At least for what Shane knew about him.

Well what the world knew.

Ilya never answered personal questions in interviews, never let anyone in. He was seen as a mysterious man who smoked cigarettes religiously, drank heavy yet still was a great fighter, asshole energy, cocky, large ego.

But Shane wasn't seeing any of that right now.

Ilya tossed Shane's shorts elsewhere. "Still okay?" He asked, setting himself on top of Shane.

Shane nodded, Ilya pressed his lips to the mans temple, lips dragging down his cheek and jaw to the line of throat.

Ilyas hand trailed down the mans thigh, cupping where Shane needed him most.

Earning a groan from the Canadian.

"Oh your easy." Ilya snickered in his neck. Shane rolled his eyes. He gripped Ilya, flipping their postions.

Shane straddled Ilya, "Fuck you." Shane spoke, "Anything for you." Ilya spoke, grabbing Shane by his cheeks, pulling him closer their lips meeting roughly.

Ilya slowed Shane down with a hand on his hips.

"Zamedlyat" He muttered in Russian. Shane slowed down, he had gotten a bit too excited kissing the man he swore he hated.

Shane broke the kiss. He moved himself on Ilya scooting down towards the end of the bed until his face was between Ilyas legs.

Legs dangling off the mattress.

Ilya clicked his tounge, "No." He pulled Shane back up to his lap. Shane seemed confused, "I was gonna-" Ilya cut him off, "I will fuck you properly first. Then you can suck my dick." Ilya patted his cheek with a smile on his face.

Shane and changed position's on the bed, Shane on his back under Ilya.

Ilyas lips pressing soft almost teasing kisses to his freckled stomach.

Ilyas right hand on the curve of Shane's ass, squeezing the fat like a stress ball.

Shane groaned as Ilya bit his skin, "Ilya." He whined.

Ilya squeezed Shane again. "Shane." He muttered back, Ilya straightened, lifting Shane's legs upwards.

Being a professional athlete had it's quirks, Shane was extremely flexible.

Ilya used one hand to push his boxers off.

"You're taking too long." Shane whined again, Ilya's eyes shot up straight to Shane's.

"What was that? Are you being impatient?" Ilya let his cock free, it sat on Shane's stomach.

"Beg." He ordered.

Shane rolled his eyes, "I don't beg-" Ilya grabbed Shane's shaft, gripping it tight almost painfully pleasing. Shane's body shot up, he moaned loudly already so worked up by a single touch.

"Fuck, Ilya." He groaned. "Beg." Ilya responded his accent darkened.

Shane whimpered, thinking about how stupid he'd look if he begged, but his dick was already in another man's hand it couldn't get any worse.

"Please, Ilya. I need you." Shane met Ilyas eyes as he begged. "Where?" Ilya replied.

"Everywhere." Shane breathed out.

Ilya smirked, "Good boy." He said.

Ilya's member pressed against Shane's hole. Shane squinted, tilting his head back as Ilya eased himself inside.

Shane let out a shaky breath as he felt completely filled.

Ilya watched him, "Fuck, Hollander." He growled. Ilya wasn't even halfway inside Shane.

They sat there for a moment, Shane adjusting and Ilya holding him. Waiting for his boy to recover so he can continue.

After some time Ilya pushed himself completely into Shane earning a deep groan from the Canadian.

Shane’s eyebrows knitted together as Ilya thrusted slowly, Shane could tell he was holding back.

Shane swallowed before speaking, “I can take it.” He nodded, trying to believe himself.

Ilya huffed out a breath, a cocky grin plastered on his face. “Oh really? If you say so.”

Ilya gripped Shanes hips as he pulled all the way out, the head of his cock almost falling out of Shane.

He pushed all the way back inside and slightly past the limitations. He thrusted hard and rough like he wanted to impregnate this man.

Ilya looked down, watching himself disappear inside of Shane, Shane on the other hand couldn’t keep his eyes open as he whimpered out moans and Ilyas name in sloppy English.

Ilya reached up a hand, hitting his cheek enough for Shane to open his eyes, “Eyes on me.” He ordered as he kept going.

Shane gripped the white, hotel, bedsheets under him. “Oh my god, Ilya.” He groaned, “Fuck—fuck.” He panted.

Shane looked down to where there hips met, he moaned at the sight of the nine-inch hard member disappearing inside of himself.

His eyes flickered up to meet Ilya’s but he was already looking at him.

A low grown left the man, Ilya reached a hand to Shanes chest, squeezing his left pec.

“Fuck I’m gonna—“ Shane whimpered, “I know baby, I know.” Ilya let out an unrestrained moan.

Ilya gave it all he had, Shanes hands gripped knuckle white onto the bedsheet.

“Yebat!” Ilya cursed. He pushed himself balls deep into Shane, panting as he coatedhis inside.

Shane’s cock twitched on his stomach as a pool of whites left him.

The two were speechless, panting collectively, the room felt thick and musky now, reeking of sex.

Ilya soon pulled out of Shane, grabbing a towel on his bedside table to wipe him clean.

Ilya bent and gave Shane’s forehead a kiss before collapsing down next to him.

“How’s that?” Ilya exhaled as he looked up at the ceiling fan.

A beat passed before Shane replied, “Perfect.” He smiled as he looked over at Ilya.

Ilya turned his head to meet Shane's eyes. “Good.” He hummed, patting the Canadians cheek.

So this took me a whole month to finish couldn't tell you why, this is also NOT proofread so don't talk to me about misspelling I couldn't care less I want to just publish this bs already.

It started with teaching you how to make a good cup of gold (tea), then showing you how to wrap your knuckles and not die, how to work comms, how to spar, how to breathe in a chokehold-he's practically taught you all you knew.

He was the one you'd go to when it was time to whenever to practice punches or time to go over simple movements

You two grew close quick, bonding over everything he taught you. Tea and fighting. That was probably all it took to spawn in a Simon Ghost Riley out of a witches pot.

It was still early. break day. No plans but to kick back and watch some good TV.

Which was your original plan until MacTavish thought it was nice to interrupt that for you.

You sat on the couch on in the mess hall, bag of chips tucked under your right arm. left hand elbow deep in it.

"Soap moooove." You whined at the dancing Scot blocking your sight, "No!" He refused, "Come fight me." He stuck out a tounge at you.

"Your such a child!" You yelled at him. "C'mon, I wanna see if your any good. You only ever fight Simon." He crossed his arms over his chest.

"There's a reason for that." You stood, putting the chip bag away in the kitchen, cleaning you fingers clean afterwards.

"Like what, you guys fuckin' or somethin'?" He huffed from the living room. You closed your eyes tightly, then opened them with a sigh.

"Bye Johnny." You spoke as you came back into the living room. "Wait! I was joking, please Y/N." He pouted.

"You're a joke." You moved towards the exit, Soap followed closely behind, "I know for a fact that your having no fun going against Ghost every sparring period." Soap spoke behind you.

"It doesn't matter, he's so much better than any one else on base, you haven't even asked him to teach you that's why you fight like a bitch." You exhaled deeply.

You continued down the hall, "I am great at what I do." He mumbled sounding offended.

"Yeah sure." You nodded.

"Look, it wont hurt to fight me. at least on-" Soap babbled on but you cut him off as you turned around to catch him off guard. "Fine!" You raised your voice in annoyance.

So here you were, sitting on a bench wrapping your knuckles like you've been taught.

You stood kicking the floor twice before you walked to the mat, Soap waiting for you long time ago.

"Don't say I didn't warn you m'kay?" You spoke. It wasn't often that you flexed or spoke about your skill, but now you knew you were going to hand Soaps ass to himself.

He smirked, cocky as ever. You could read his body language something else he had taught you.

Soap opened his mouth to say something but you cut him off, grabbing his shoulders you brought his chest to your knees. You watched as he stumbled to the floor.

You smirked, taking the opportunity to do something you have been dying to try. You laid down next to him, grabbing his arm and pulling it through your legs. You wrapped your hands tightly around his wrists as you pulled tightly.

This move was forbidden, at least it what Ghost told you. He said it wasn't something you were ready for. You were already in it, locked and loaded.

"Over your shoulder."

You and Soap both looked to the source of the sound, Simon stood leaning against the wall his eyes piercing into your soul as he met your eyes.

Soap took notice how you loosened your grip as your attention faded away from him, he took the initiative. Quickly grabbing you by your collar, forcing you into submission.

He held you in a chokehold, his legs came around to pin your wiggling ones.

You didn't get to prep like you usually did with Ghost, your breath coming out in short pants. You groaned, your hand gripping tightly on his forearm as you fought the urge to tap.

Ghost watched, he moved off the wall. He stepped onto the mat looking down as he watched you.

"You can't steal my move than tap out." He warned you.

Your eyes became blurry with tears as Soap dug his arm into your throat. Your head hurt, your thoughts ran wild as you tried to think of how to get out of this.

You groaned out loud, all your breath was practically gone. "C'mon." Soap muttered to himself. He huffed as he held you tighter.

Your finger weakly tapped his forearm as you gave up.

Soap immediately dropped you, your body limp as your face met the mat. Soap smiled proudly. "I'm ready to go again." Soap spoke.

"Get out." Simon ordered Soap, his smile haltered, "W-What?" Soap opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by Simon again.

"I won't tell you again sergeant." Ghost took a step to Soap, he put is hands up in surrender. Soap left the gym soon enough.

The gym was filled with the sound of soft gasps as you caught your breath. "Sit up." Simon came over to you.

He helped you up, "Breathe, baby, your fine." He wiped your forehead clean from sweat.

"You with me?" He kneeled by your feet. You slowly nodded, he exhaled. "I told you not to try that move and instead its the first thing you do." He spoke.

"You don't listen do you?" He tilted his head slightly. "I would've had him if you hadn't said anything." You spat back.

Simon scoffed, smirking slightly. "Oh please. Don't blame me that you cant hold your own." Simon spoke.

"Your the one who trained me." You moved your feet away from him.

Simon rolled his eyes, "Your the one who never changed." Your jaw clenched, You kicked out a foot yo him, aiming directly for his liver.

You know you hit it when he bent forward and grunted in pain. You moved again, pushing him back you straddled his waist hands clenched around his throat.

"This better?" You smirked on his lap. "Definitely." He muttered. Maybe it was the position you wo were in or the tension that's just been increasing or the way he said definitely, that had you feeling a way.

Simon reached up grabbing your cheek. He pulled you to him, your lips meeting in a bruising kiss. Your hands left his throat, cupping his cheek as you kissed him back.

"Simon, we shouldn't-" You hummed in the kiss, "Shh don't stop." He cut you off.

"Your the worst." You smiled slightly in the kiss, making Simon pull back to look at you. "You love it, baby." He smirked, tucking a hair behind your ear.

He was over it, already tapping the bottom of his cigarette box against his palm as he walked over to the entrance of the reception.

He didn't really give anyone much more than a grunt all day, this wasn't his scene. A wedding and Simon, yeah no.

He hated these types of things, people only really had big weddings with huge cakes, a stupid dolphin ice sculpture because they wanted to prove their love was stable and worthy.

It was complete bullshit.

But. He couldn't lie seeing his friend get married to the love of his life even if that's the exact words he called Simon approximately three years ago, drunk on his couch, was nice.

If he wanted to go marry this woman and throw away money on a wedding when you can truly save it up for a nice vacation then he could go be Simons guest. Simon would just judge from where he stood.

He let out a breath of the cigarette between his lips, a hint of the tabaco left on his tongue. He turned his head to the side.

Simons eyes glanced over the reception as John danced with his bride, the only others I knew watched from the sidelines. Kyle, Alejandro, Rudy, and Price.

He put out his cigarette, thinking that maybe he should join them, maybe he should watch his friends first dance with his wife.

As he tried to make it over, there was no spot he could stand without his sight being covered. he groaned, his eyes glancing over to any possible places to where he could stand and see.

Then he saw it, it was a balcony that sat at the perfect angle. He walked over to the building before quickly making it up to the balcony.

It was hotter up here, he grunted to himself as he tried to fix his tie, he watched as John dipped and kissed his bride the people who watched and stood around them both gave them a warm round of applause.

Simon would have too but his tie made it hard to.

He grunted, he dropped the box of cigarettes in his hand, "Bloody fuckin' tie..." Simon grumbled.

"Need help?"

He stopped in place, he turned to put a face to the voice he'd never heard before. Simon met eyes with the woman. He knew her, she was the maid of honor, the brides best friend.

Simon cleared his throat, "I got it. I just—" He pulled more on the knot of his tie, "One sec." Simon nodded.

She giggled, but not like she was laughing at him, but like she was enjoying watching Simon struggle. Kind of rude for a woman whose makeup was slowly melting off in the blazing Italian sun.

She took a step to me, "May I?" She asked. Simon gave her a look before his hands came to his sides, giving up and letting her try.

She quickly loosened his tie, softly patting the spot when she was done.

She took a step back. Simon cleared my throat, he turned leaning against the railing of the balcony.

She cleared her throat, it took him a second before he turned his head to her and noticed her hand out to him, Simon was so focused on her eyes he almost didn't notice the box of cigarettes in her hand, Simons cigarettes.

He sighed, "Thanks." He pursed his lips, he grabbed the box out her hand, his fingertips brushing against her palm.

He grabbed a cigarette and put the rest of the box in his suit jackets pocket.

Simon placed the cigarette between his lips, inhaling then exhaling the dark grey smoke.

She started to speak, Simon wasn't up for conversation but he wasn't a complete asshole.

"So you're the...uh, grooms best man?" She spoke, sounding...in a way angelic to one's ears.

Simon took the cigarette out from between his lips, he nodded, "Yeah. You're the maid of honor 'm guessing?" Simon asked but more so stated.

She gave a small chuckle, "Yeah, I am." She said to him, they weren't looking at one another but watching the reception below themselves.

The space between them could fit another person.

"Yeah...never thought Soap would've settled down already." Simon spoke through his thick British accent.

She inhaled a breath before speaking, "I knew from the start. I always saw how he looked at Hannah." She nodded.

He gave a slight chuckle, he knew exactly how John was. "Johnny's been obsessed over the idea of having a family since the day I met that guy." He nodded. He took another breath from my cigarette.

Simon glanced over to her, seeing her hand swat away the slight smoke coming her away, he turned, tossing the cigarette on the ground, he put his foot over it.

Simon turned back to her, "Sorry, I didn't even think to ask if you were 'right with that." She shook her head, looking at the man. "It's okay." She spoke with the same tone from earlier.

Soft and angel like.

He opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by the sound of John's voice coming from the entrance of the balcony.

"Oi! There you two are." He said to them both, his speech slightly slurred. He was probably many drinks deep and neither wouldn't blame him.

Simon turned around to face him, noting how the maid of honor didn't turn with him but instead lean against the railing like he was doing previously.

John stumbled over to the two, a smile plastered on his face as he leaned on Simon for support, "You two look cozy out here." He teased, clearly not noticing Simon's already annoyed face from the fact that he did interrupt Simon.

Simon rolled his eyes, giving him a helping hand. "We were just getting a breath of fresh air." Simon corrected him.

He looked to the woman behind Simon over his shoulder before he looked to Simon.

His smile grew, "You should come dance with me." He nodded.

Simon shook his head, fuck no. "I don't dance and I'm pretty sure you are aware of that." Simon spoke.

"Don't tempt me with a good time." She said behind Simon. "We'll be there in a bit." She told John in a promising tone before he nodded and turned, leaving them both alone on the balcony again.

Simon let out a breath, he turned to her, "Hey, maybe you didn't hear me but, I don't dance." He shook his head.

She gave him a smile, "Everybody dances." She spoke, she grabbed his wrist and led him to the dance floor where pretty much everyone else was.

He laughed with her as they danced, they'd go from his hands on her hips and her arms draped over his shoulders to her jumping up and down and Simon watching, laughing at her.

He was out of breath by the end of it. Simon shook his head as he swallowed. Trying to speak over the speakers.

"Hey! Let's get a drink!" He said to her, trying to point to the bar with his hand.

She watched him, she shook her head. "No thanks. I'm not thirsty." She nodded to Simon.

He sighed at her words.

Simon put a hand on her shoulder, he brought his mouth to her ear before speaking to her.

"I'm thirsty. We've been dancing for a straight hour." Simon spoke to her. He straightened, watching her face for any reaction.

Simon watched as she built a response she waved him down and he came down, his ear to her mouth.

"You want me to come with you?" She asked. Simon went down to her ear.

"N-No. I'm just...uh forget it." He was aggravated, the music was too loud, people's sweaty arms kept rubbing against him, everyone was yelling and bumping into him.

He turned, moving through the crowd of people to get to the bar.

He didn't drag her with him.

Once Simon got to the bar he ordered himself a cup of cold water with no ice.

He leaned his back against the bar watching the dance floor being filled with life.

Simon looked around to try and spot her but he couldn't.

"Okay friend's and fam, please clear the dance floor for the bouquet toss!" The bride announced on the DJ's microphone.

The crowd soon began to gather on the sides of the dance floor, Simon was already at a good spot where he could see everything so he didn't have to move.

There she was.

She was shaking her head at the bride as she dragged her to the other group of bridesmaids for the bouquet toss.

Simon watched as she started to look for something maybe someone.

Hannah, the bride. Took a step away from the ladies, turning her back to them she held up her white rose bouquet.

She raised it in the air.

Then threw it.

Simon's eyes followed the bouquet as it landed in someone's hands. He didn't hear no fighting over it, bummer. That would have been the best part of his night.

It hit him.

She caught it. Simons eyes stayed on her, the only people to congratulate her was the bridesmaids, John, and Hannah.

His brows furrowed slightly.

No boyfriend to come celebrate with her? No "Im already married"?

He tilted his head, bringing the glass of water to his bottom lip.

Simon turned, facing the bar now.

Simon watched ahead of him as they all soon filled his view of sight.

The maid of honor, the bridesmaids, and the bride. All together taking rounds of shots to celebrate once again but this time over poison in a cup.

Simon couldn't help but think good for them.

"So who's going to be the lucky guy?"

"Luna, have you got your eye on anyone?"

"There's plenty of single men here..?"

He listened as the bridesmaids nicked and poked at her all night.

The only useful thing he got out of it was her name. He hadn't asked for her name all night and now he got it. Sucks she didn't get his, not that it mattered. It didn't matter to me. It didn't.

Luna.

Simon ended the night leaving the wedding silently. The party was going well but he was in need of some well deserved rest, he left the party while everyone started crowding the bar, getting their "last drinks of the night."

Which was a fat lie, as he left he could hear the words, "One more." Being yelled throughout the reception, yeah no thanks.

The morning after John and Hannah insisted that Simon joined them both for breakfast, "Your best man duties aren't over." John had told him over the phone when he called.

Simon tried to seem annoyed but who would to free breakfast.

Once Simon made it to the hotel lobby he caught up with the two newlyweds. John tried to convince Simon to stay with them on their honeymoon.

"I swear It's fine. Please I don't want to interrupt you two." Simon shook his head as the three walked towards where breakfast would be.

"Please, I'm not renting out a fucking beach house just to use one room." John nudged Simon, pleading.

Simon glanced to Johnny, "Jesus-you can't take a no, can you?" John responded with a smirk before nudging his mate, "I'll take that as a yes." He winked.

Simon shook his head, watching John leave his side and walk alongside his wife.

As they made their way to a booth, she was there, who invited her?

Simon sat next to Luna, Hannah and John across from the two, "You two look like you're getting along well." Hannah spoke with a smile looking at the two.

Simon's brow furrowed. They hadn't even said anything to each other. "We met briefly yesterday." Luna spoke. Simon nodded in agreement. not adding to her already truthful words.

John stood to grab utensils, Hannah left to the bathroom, cleaning her hands.

Simon cleared his throat, he glanced over at Luna. "Wanted to congratulate you." He muttered. Luna looked to him.

Her brows furrowed, "On-?" Simon responded realizing he gave zero context, "The bouquet toss. Isn't it a thing to congratulate over...?" He spoke softer.

Luna smiled, "Yeah, for sure. Thanks."

Simon nodded in relief. "Who's the lucky guy?" He asked her, Luna shook her head, "I'm single." She responded quick,

"Oh." Simon swallowed, "Sorry." He nodded, "Ah, no worries. Being single in todays day n age is a privilege.' She smiled, chuckling like her own words made her laugh.

Simon laughed lowly with her, soon enough the two others joined back, the four ate peacefully.

"Luns, you should join us on our honeymoon." Hannah spoke after she swallowed her egg whites. Luna looked at her best friend like she was crazy.

"No? I don't really want to be there when you two are making my niece or nephew." She swallowed a gulp of water.

Simon hid a laugh with a bite of bread.

John gestured to Simon, "He's going."

Luna looked at Simon, Simon met her eyes, "He chose for me." He corrected, Luna huffed looking back to Hannah, "Fine."

John and Hannah shared a look. Hiding their smiles with food.

The ride there was silent well at least in Luna and Simon's car. The soft sound of Simons engine and music softly humming in the background.

He drove, one hand on the steering wheel the other on the console.

"You 'an change the song if you'd like." He spoke up, Luna looked up from her phone Simons phone in his hand as he handed it to her Spotify already open.

"Anything you hate hearing?" Luna asked as she clicked the search bar. Simon chuckled, "I asked you to pick."

Luna shrugged, "Your car, your music." Simon glanced at her quickly before looking back to the empty road. The car far ahead of them John and Hannah.

"I asked for your music, not mine." He spoke. Luna smiled softly before clicking play on The Morning - The Weeknd.

The ride went by quick, Simon was a good driver slowing to stops with ease or taking turns without even adjusting in his seat.

They got to the beach house, "Fuck, this is huge." Luna mumbled under her breath as she took in the large house ahead of them, the soft sound of waves crashing against the shore could be heard already from this far.

"Watch your mouth young lady." Simon spoke as he picked up both their luggage out his trunk, Luna closed it by the button and followed him, "I can hold my own bag." Luna reached out for her bags.

"I got it." He spoke, leaving no room for argument.

She didn't even ask for him to carry her stuff.

As hours slipped by the group slowly settled in the house, Luna and Hannah outside. Luna helping Hannah take pictures for her instagram.

Johnny and Simon inside, sharing a beer as they cooked. Steaks in the oven. The smell of seasoned meat wafted through the air.

"So...you and Luna, hm?" John hummed as he started peeling potatoes. Simon chuckled softly.

"Fuckin hell, that's why you brought us here. To play bachelor?" Simon watched the man.

John shamelessly half-nodded, he set down a potato. "C'mon Si, How long has it been since your last relationship?" John looked at Simon.

Simon finished his glass of corona, "Unimportant." He exhaled as he swallowed. John huffed when he didn't get the answer he wanted. "She seems like a good girl." John shrugged.

Simon cringed at those words. "Stop talking." Simon spoke as he moved, grabbing both their empty bottles and tossing them.

Johnny chuckled softly, "Just try it. Worst that can happen is she rejects you. Or...you find out she has a boyfriend." John shrugged.

"She's single." Simon straightened, clearing his throat seeming how that sounded, "We talked a bit." Simon moved to the fridge. Grabbing two beers.

He slid one to John and kept the other for himself. Opening it with his hand as he watch Johnny use a bottle opener.

It was probably at least one in the morning, Simon couldn't sleep. His head spinning, why did all thoughts have to come when you had to sleep?

Simon tossed the sheets off of him, he swung his legs over to the side of the bed. His head hurt.

Simon stood pulling up his sweatpants that hung low on his hips. He didn't bother to put a shirt on, nobody would be awake at this time. Right?

Simon slipped out his room, the door in front of his closed. Luna's room. Directly across from his. The sudden thought of entering her room to watch her sleep creeped up into his mind. He scoffed at himself before moving to the kitchen.

He stopped when his eyes locked onto the body he knew well from, watching it across rooms, Luna.

The fridge and freezer were both open, she stood in them exhaling deeply. "Are you..." He started.

Luna jumped at his voice, "Simon. Jeez, you scared me." She said, a hand coming to her chest as she met his eyes across the room.

Her eyes slowly trailed down his torso. "Okay..." He muttered to himself. "You should close those." Simon spoke, moving into the kitchen, pretending he didn't just feel her eyes tracing over every dip in his torso.

Luna didn't say anything as she watched Simons back, his muscles flexing as he grabbed a ibuprofen, opening it as he swallowed two easily.

He poured himself a glass of water, cold. "So why were you basking in the fridge?" Simon turned to look at her as he sipped water from the cup.

Luna swallowed, "I wasn't basking, I have no ac." She leaned back against the counter, Simon nodded.

"Didn't plan on asking for help?" He swallowed. "It's late." Luna crossed her arms over her chest, still embarrassed from being caught in such a stupid position.

"Sleep in my room." He gestured down the hall with the glass in his hand. Luna furrowed her brows. "Wow, take me to dinner first."

Simon smirked, "C'mon. You can have the bed." He was already moving towards the hall. Luna grunted before reluctantly following behind him.

Simon held the door open with a hand letting her in first. "Don't get awkward now." Simon hummed, closing the door behind her.

Simon moved, setting his cup down. His back to her. The soft sounds of a lighter flicking on and off filled the room, Simon lit a cigarette exhaling deeply before he turned, his eyes brushing over her. "Bed's all yours." He gestured to it.

Simon moved outside to the balcony connected to the room. Smoking his cigarette away from her.

Luna sighed deeply, how could she have gotten in this predicament.

Luna slowly sat herself in the middle of the bed, her back against the headboard. "Simon?" She called out to the air.

Slowly Simon came back in the room, exhaling smoke before he entered. "Princess." He answered.

Luna sat up slightly, the pet name making something sting in the pit of her stomach.

"Where are you sleeping?" She asked, Simon walked to the end of the bed. The cigarette twirling between his fingers like he was itching for a hit.

"Floor." He answered. She didn't know what it was, maybe him being shirtless, the fact that he saved her from a heat stroke, the delicious steaks he cooked the house earlier, or maybe the cigarette smoke making her dizzy.

But the way he kept looking at her had been making her heart beat, since they shared a dance on their friends wedding night.

"You're starin'" Simon huffed, Luna blinked, "Sorry. Don't...don't sleep on the floor. Sleep here with me." She said her eyes locked on his.

"Have you been drinking?" He asked her, Luna exhaled, she crawled to the end of the bed right in front of him. She took the cigarette from his fingers and placed it between her lips. Inhaling deeply before exhaling in his face.

He didn't flinch like it wasn't the first time smoke had been blown in his face.

Simons jaw clenched, his pec jerked slightly. "What are you doing, missy?" He questioned her as he leaned in closer.

Luna slowly pushed the end of the cigarette into his skin, Simon didn't flinch or stop her. He just watched her face as she burned him.

"You don't know what your asking for." Simon took the cigarette from her tiny hand, tossing it into the ash tray nearby.

"I'm well aware what I'm asking for." Luna met his eyes, her eyes flickering down to his lips then back up.

Simon exhaled, which sounded more like a growl. He reached out to her jaw pulling her lips to kiss them aggressively, like he was hungry.

Luna groaned softly in the kiss. Simon’s hand gripped under her thighs bringing her back onto the bed. “Simon, hurry up.” She moaned into his mouth.

He huffed, “Patience baby, I’m gonna take my time with you.” He growled lowly.

Simon’s fingers disappeared under her shirt, his hand cupped her breast, “No bra? You were asking for this, hm?” Simon hummed.

Luna moaned softly throwing her head back, she gripped his shoulders to keep her grounded. “Fuck. Quit teasing me Simon.” She muttered out.

Simon smirked slightly at her plea. He leaned back on his knees looking at her, “Fuck…” he muttered.

Luna bit her bottom lip she looked up at him, “What?” She asked, Simon chuckled softly. “Sweet girl, think you might’ve gotten too excited he said. “You’re soaked.”

Luna gasped she bent forward to check for herself and sure enough there was a wet patch through her shorts. Simon chuckled softly, he moved her hand.

“Don’t hide from me.” He said his fingers moving to hook onto her shorts, pulling them and her panties off in one go. He tossed them somewhere off the bed, Luna closed her thighs.

Simon looked into her eyes, “What did I just say?” Luna tilted her head, “Your still dressed, unfair.” Simon chuckled softly. He moved off the bed to take off his sweatpants leaving his boxers on. Luna opened her mouth to protest but Simon cut her off.

“Nope. You haven’t earned dick privilege yet.” He spoke, he dived back between her legs, forcing them open easily. His breath brushed over her already slick core. She shivered “Fuck.” She muttered.

Simon shook his head in disbelief, “That’s it? You’ll come if I breathe hard enough.” He stated, Luna scoffed. “No! I—nngrh” Simon cut her off with his tongue diving into her flaps.

Luna groaned biting back her moans, Simon sucked harder against her bud. “Mmm, lemme hear you.” He hummed against her slit.

Luna gasped for air under him, “Fuck! Oh—my god.” She moaned, her hands digging into the sheets under them both.

“Cmon pretty girl, give it to me.” Simon growled on her clit. He looked up at her as he sucker with passion.

Luna’s mouth hung open as he ate her like the last meal on earth, his tongue flicking at her bud.

Luna whined, “Simon—oh Si-“ She moaned. Simon bit softly at her flap, that did it. Simon watch as she tried to make words. “C-Coming.” She announced.

Simon watched as she got right to the edge before he pulled away from her, catching his breath softly. Luna gasped she sat up, “You asshole! Why’d you stop I was about to come?” Luna sighed.

Simon licked his lips, “I want you to cum on my dick.” He huffed out aggressively.

Lunas brows furrowed “W-“ She couldn’t even get the word out before Simon pinned her, her knees to her chest as he kicked off his boxers.

His cock sprung out between the two. He didn’t waste time on prepping her. He shoved himself into her, he was pent up.

Luna gasped her head hitting the headboard, “Fuck!” She yelped. Simon waited for a moment before moving, he slid out till his tip almost fell out her beauty.

He slammed back into her, doing it consistently, “Si-nggrh—please.” She babbled. Cock drunk.

Simon continued his rampage, “Use your words, baby.” He panted. His hands digging into the back of her knees as he watched his dick disappear and reappear on loop.

“I’m gonna come!” She gasped, Simon slowed. “Wait for me, doll.” He ordered. He slowly built back up the pace.

He reached up, gripping her left breast, rolling the bud between his fingers. Luna whined, she was overstimulated.

“Take it like a good girl and stop whining.” He panted, his eyes flickered to hers. Watching her face as she held herself back.

Another whine slipped, “That’s whining, I thought we talked about that.” Simon dug himself into her.

“Simon please!” She choked out. Simon whimpered, “Fuck princess.” He muttered.

Simon nodded, “Give it to me, baby.” He nodded as she came, her soft walls pulsing on his cock. Simon soon oozed into her, filling her to the brim.

Simon panted, pulling himself out of her.

He met her eyes, lying next to her as he panted softly. “Sorry.” He swallowed staring at her boy next to him.

Luna smiled, “That was perfect.” She kissed him.