#cl84

But now you were home. In your own house with your own rules, and not a single soul around to interrupt what was well overdue.

The front door barely clicked shut before you felt Colston’s hands finding your hips from behind, pulling you flush against him before you could even drop your purse onto the hallway table. “Got some business we need to handle,” he murmured into your hair, voice low enough that you felt the rumble of it against your back more than you heard it.

You laughed, tipping your head back against his chest as he walked you forward, leaving your luggage abandoned mid-step with his grip sliding up to your ribs, fingers pressing just beneath the swell of your breasts in a silent proposal.

“Damn, we can’t make it upstairs?” you breathed out at the feeling of his colder palms slipping under your tank top, callouses scraping your ribs and making you shiver despite the warmth of the late afternoon sun filtering through the windows.

Colston’s response was a rough exhale against your neck as he caught your earlobe between his teeth. “Oh, we’re makin’ it. I need space,” he murmured, hiking you up effortlessly over his shoulder, one hand anchored possessively on the curve of your thigh. You gasped, your laughter dissolving into a surprised intake of air when his palm landed sharp against your ass, the sting reverberating through the skin and leaving a staticky, warm feeling in its wake.

“Mmm… music to my ears,” he hummed, turning his head to leave a kiss against the soft skin of your inner thigh as he carried you toward the stairs.

Your feet didn’t touch the floor again until you crossed the threshold of their bedroom. Colston deposited you onto the bed with a controlled roughness that sent you bouncing once against the sheets. Before you could right yourself, his body caged yours, one knee pressed between your thighs as he leaned down to capture your mouth in a kiss out of pure impatience. You arched into him, fingers twisting in the fabric of his shirt, running up his arms, over his shoulder, and finally cradling the back of his neck.

The scent of him flooded your senses, almost overwhelming considering the week or so without the feeling of him pressed this heavily against you. Your chest rose sharply when his hand slid under the hem of your tank top, fingers splayed wide across your stomach before dragging upward. The material bunched between you, and you lifted your arms instinctively, letting him peel it away with one impatient tug. His lips left yours only to trail down your neck, his teeth grazing the hollow of your throat before his tongue soothed the sting.

You whimpered out, swallowing hard at the way his thumbs hooked into the waistband of your jeans, dragging them down your hips to discard them over the side of the bed. Colston’s breath hitched, his grip tightening as he took in the sight of you sprawled beneath him. You were bare except for the cotton clinging to your hips. Chocolate brown eyes drifted over your moisturized skin scented with your favorite body butter.

“Damn,” he muttered, pulling back for a brief moment to maneuver your body beneath him, aligning himself between your thighs as his hands slid up your legs, parting them further. You released an audible puff of air when his fingers traced the outline of your damp underwear. You rocked your hips against him, cursing under your breath at the feeling of his palm flattening against your abdomen to still you.

“Easy, mama,” he murmured, bending to drag his lips along the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. “Got all night now.”

Your fingers tangled in his hair, your breath coming uneven as he traced slow, deliberate paths up your leg, pausing just shy of where you ached for him. The tease was unbearable with his grip on your hips holding you in place as if you might dissolve beneath him. You swore you could hear your own heartbeat pounding in your ears as Colston glanced up, catching your gaze with a intensity behind his eyes that made your stomach flip.

“Turn over for me,” he murmured. You rolled onto your stomach the second you processed the request, the sheets cool against your warming skin. Colston’s hands smoothed up the backs of your thighs, fingers pressing into the soft give of your flesh before dragging your hips upward until you were on your knees. Another whimper escaped you when his thumb pressed against your covered entrance.

Colston chuckled deeply at the way you arched back into his touch. “Ooh, she missed me,” he laughed breathlessly, hooking his fingers into the sides of your underwear and pulling them down.

You bit your lip against the sound that threatened to spill out when the fabric finally slipped past your thighs, the air hitting your overheated skin making you press your chest further into the sheets. His hands returned immediately, kneading the curve of your ass before delivering a sharp smack that had you gasping into the comforter. Colston’s laugh was dark, appreciative, his fingers trailing lower to trace the slick evidence of your need for him.

“Fuck,” he muttered, the word rough and reverent all at once.

His fingers pressed between your thighs from behind, sliding through the wetness gathered there with a groan. You shuddered, fingers twisting in the sheets as his touch grew bolder, dipping into you with a slow, torturous curl that had your hips undulating back against his hand.

“Look at you,” Colston murmured, voice thick as he withdrew his fingers only to drag them through your slickness again, circling your entrance without pushing in. “Prettiest thing I ever seen.”

Your breath hitched when he leaned down, his lips brushing the middle of your back, the rustle of fabric just slightly reaching your ears before you felt the heat of his bare thighs pressed against yours. His dick slid between your thighs, heavy and insistent, his hand dragging the pink head through the wetness his fingers had coaxed out of you. The friction made you sigh when you felt the first rock of his hips, his free hand trailing down from your waist to your hip.

Colston’s palm settled at the small of your back, pressing down until your stomach met the bed. He groaned as he slid the tip of himself against your entrance, pausing just enough to make you whine. “That’s it,” he murmured, voice rough against your ear as he pushed forward in one slow roll of his hips, just enough to let you feel the stretch around his tip before retreating again. You clenched around nothing, fingers clawing at the sheets beneath you.

“Colston—” you breathed, halfway between frustration and desperation, your shoulders tensing when his breathy laughter floated into your ears.

“Don’t—oh—” Your voice broke off when he pushed forward again, sinking deeper this time, his grip tightening on your hip as he bottomed out with a ragged exhale.

You could hear him mutter something low and broken to himself under his breath as he watched, and felt, you adjust around him. His warm palms soothed over your skin, attempting to ground you through the slow roll of his hips. You clenched your teeth against the onslaught of sensation, of every inch of him dragging against walls that had waited too long for this. His hand slid up your spine, fingers splaying between your shoulder blades as he sucked in a long, deep breath through his teeth.

Colston’s fingers curled into your waist, digging into the soft skin there as he pulled back almost entirely before snapping his hips forward with a groan. You moaned, the sound punched out of you as you arched against the mattress. Slowly, he worked his way up to a pattern, building a rhythm with the wet slide of him inside of you demanding his attention. He absorbed the way your body yielded to him, how your breath stuttered when he thrust particularly deep, the muffled whimpers, moans, and pleas you buried into the sheets when he angled himself just right.

His grip shifted, lifting your hips higher, aligning your body so he could sink deeper, grind harder, make you feel every inch of him stretching you apart.

“Oh my god… shit, baby. Right there. Harder—” you panted, the syllables of your words spilling from your lips unevenly with each rough bounce of your body against the mattress.

Colston growled low in his chest, his fingers digging into your hips as he obeyed, snapping his hips forward with fervor, the slap of skin against skin filling the room alongside your ragged breaths. You could feel the throb of him inside you, the way his rhythm faltered just slightly when you clenched around him, drawing a hoarse “fuck, mama,” from his lips.

His hand slid up your spine, fingers threading through your hair before fisting at the base gently, just enough to tilt your head back, exposing the column of your throat as he leaned over you, his breath hot against your skin. “Look at you takin’ it so well,” he praised, voice heavy in your ear, his free hand keeping his weight up. “So damn perfect. Sound so pretty for me.”

You keened, the words sending a fresh wave of heat through your belly as his hips snapped forward again, deeper this time, the angle shifting just enough to make your toes curl.

Your moans pitched higher, pathetic and broken as Colston’s thrusts grew uneven, his control slipping with every drag of your body against his. The bed creaked beneath you, the headboard tapping rhythmically against the wall as you pushed yourself up onto your elbows.

“Hmm… what was that? Couldn’t hear.”

He knew he was playing with fire with that comment. He knew you could dish back as much as you could take. But it was devious, really. The way you arched your back just enough to tighten around him, milking a ragged groan from his throat as you craned your neck to glance over your shoulder with eyes half-lidded and lips parted. Colston’s rhythm faltered, hips stuttering mid-thrust as you squeezed, then dragged your nails down the length of his tattooed forearm where it braced beside you.

“You…” His words dissolved into a deep moan when you rocked back against him, swallowing him deeper with a slow roll of your hips that made his head tilt in awe. “Tryna take it from me? That what you want?”

You answered with a breathless laugh, circling your hips in search for more friction. The movement shifted the angle, dragging a whimper from your throat when the blunt head of him rubbed against that sweet, swollen spot inside you. Colston’s breath caught, fingers gripping your waist tight enough to bruise as he watched the way your body moved, how your thighs trembled when you took him deeper, as if controlled and torturously slow.

“If I have to,” you eventually replied, taking your bottom lip between your teeth as you ground against him. He could feel the tension coiling in his gut, the way his control frayed at the edges with every push back from your hips.

When he finally shook off the awe, he took control of their rhythm once more, pulling you flush against him, watching your ass press firmly against his pelvis. You gasped at the sudden shift, the sharp sting of his palm landing against your backside again before he gripped the flesh tight, spreading you open further as he fucked into you with renewed urgency.

“Mmmh, fuck…” your voice fractured as Colston’s thrusts grew rougher, his grip on your hips just bordering on painful, his fingers pressing into your skin like he was memorizing the shape of you. The air between you grew heavy with the scent of sex, sweat, and what remained of the body butter still clinging to your skin.

“You feel—god, mama—” His words dissolved into a drawn out growl, his hips snapping forward erratically as he chased his release. You arched beneath him, your fingers twisting in the sheets as you met him thrust for thrust, your body tightening around him.

“Boutta cum… shit,” Colston’s warning was whispered, his fingers digging into the softness of your waist as his hips stuttered.

You arched higher, pressing your forehead into the mattress to stifle your moans when he dragged you back onto him, grinding deep as his release hit. You felt the pulse of him inside you, the hot spill of his cum making your hips tense where they pressed against his. His groan was rough against your spine, lips dragging damp, open-mouthed kisses along your shoulder blades as he rode out the waves of his orgasm.

His grip loosened, fingers smoothing over the indents he’d left on your skin as his hips slowed to gentle, shallow rolls. Before you could speak, he managed to find enough control over his limbs to pull you upright against his chest, his lips pressing lazily against your temple while his hands trailed down your torso, fingertips dancing over your damp skin. You sighed into him, your head lolling back against his shoulder as his touch wandered lower, brushing over the sensitive flesh between your thighs where you still throbbed for him.

“I didn’t forget about you, mama. I promise, I didn’t,” Colston murmured into your neck, his voice still rough, fingers slick as he circled your clit with slow, purposeful strokes. You shuddered, your thighs pressing together instinctively, not intending to stop him, but to chase the pressure of his touch. His free arm tightened around your waist to keep you upright as your legs trembled.

“Uh uh, none of that runnin’ from me,” he chastised, holding you tighter as his fingers worked your slick flesh with the same ease he’d used to memorize your body over the years. You moaned, your nails digging into the thick muscle of his forearm as the pad of his fingers pressed firm against the swollen bud, and you arched against him, your eyes screwed shut.

Colston kissed a trail along your shoulder, his teeth scraping lightly as his fingers worked you, his rhythm shifting between slow circles and quick brushes and taps just to hear your breath hitch.

“Close, baby?” he murmured, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.

You nodded wordlessly, your thighs tightening around his hand as the coil in your stomach wound impossibly tighter. The fingers on your right hand fell over his, feeling the rhythm of his strokes as he coaxed you toward release. His left hand, traveled from where it wrapped around your waist to find the sides of your neck. He heard you whimper and arch within his grasp just enough for your head to tilt back, allowing your eyes to meet his when he finally delivered a short, soft squeeze.

“That’s it,” he breathed against your skin, watching your bottom lip tremble before he leaned down to take it between his own. You whimpered into his mouth, your body tensing as the first wave of pleasure crashed through you, your fingers tightening around his wrist as if he might slip away.

“I got you… I got you…” he assured you, taking in the way your brows dipped as your body surrendered to the pleasure. His fingers slowed but didn’t stop, dragging out the build-up to release until your thighs shook against his hand, your breath coming in uneven gasps against his lips. “Mhmm, just like that. It’s okay. You can cum for me, angel.”

Nobody’s said anything. You know it’s standard procedure. You know that phones aren’t allowed in the medical tent. You know he’s in the best hands possible.

It doesn’t help your anxiety.

You check your phone for what must be the hundredth time since he went down. 

Still nothing.

Not even an update from the Bears app.

This has always been your worst fear.

It’s part of the life you’ve chosen. 

But when you think back to that night in April last year, when Colston got the call saying that the Bears had drafted him, you’ve had this small hope, this ideal world in which he never has to pay a visit to that dreaded blue tent.

It could happen to any player in any game. It just had to happen to Colston in the last minute of a divisional playoff game. 

A text tone coming from your phone nearly makes your heart jump out of your skin. Your hands are so sweaty that they fumble the device as you check it, hoping it’s Colston or one of the staffers on the sidelines giving you an update.

It’s your group chat with your friends, asking for updates.

From: Daisy

Saw Colston go down, he okay?

From: Jay

He’s been in the tent for a while. Hope he’s okay. ❤️

From: Cici

Let us know if you need anything, babe 🫶

There are other messages. Other friends. Family members checking in.

You don’t have the heart to reply. You will, once you know that Colston is okay.

‘Come on, Colst, give me something, babe,’ you mutter more to yourself than anyone around you. 

The pacing continues. Your hands rub your face, ignoring the makeup that you put on this morning. It feels like a lifetime ago that you were putting on your LOVELAND 84 jersey on, excited to watch your boyfriend in his first ever NFL divisional game.

Seconds feel like hours. Time seems to crawl forward. 

At last, at long, long last, the tent flaps open and Colston shuffles out. There’s a split second where you hope he’s been cleared, but when he passes his helmet to a nearby staffer you recognise as the equipment manager, your heart sinks when you realise the reality.

Almost at the same time, a graphic comes up on the overhead board and the PA system announces:

‘Colston Loveland has been declared out. Concussion.’

Tears spring to your eyes.

You watch on, completely helpless, as Colston is walked off the turf, down the tunnel and towards what you know is the medical room where he’ll be having further assessments. His head is down, gait is awkward and sluggish. One of his hands, huge even from the distance you are away from him, comes up to the point of his head where he made impact. Your heart gives a jolt of something, something like I’m right here, baby. 

At that moment, he looks straight up at the suite. His eyes are squinting at the effort of it through the obvious pain in his head, but he does it all the same. 

He’s looking straight at you. Then, he gives his chest two taps.

Two taps. 

His sign since sophomore year at Michigan that he’s okay and he’ll see you soon.

Your hand reaches up to the glass and you rest a hand on your heart. You don’t know if he can see you, but you do it all the same. It’s for your sake just as much as it is for his. 

He disappears into the tunnel and down towards the backrooms of the stadium. 

The absence is felt sorely in your body. 

There’s still over a minute left on the clock. You know you can’t see him until the game is over. 

You hardly focus through any of it. Not the field goal, not through overtime, not even the final whistle blaring out and declaring the game a win for the Rams. 

Even though your heart is heavy for the team, all you want is Colston. You need to see him with your own eyes so your body can finally process that he’s going to be okay. 

You’re not quite sure what the procedure is from here, but before you can think about it too much, there’s a knock at the door.

‘Miss Y/L/N?’ a voice asks quietly through an opening in the door to the suite.

You turn around to see a woman in her thirties, wearing Bears team gear and a radio, leaning on the door.

‘Y-yes?’

She steps in closer to you. 

‘My name is Sheri, I’m with player operations. I wanted to give you an update on Colston. He’s okay, he does have a concussion. It appears to be mild but we will need to do some more checks to be sure.’ 

Mild.

The word lingers in your brain like a slice of hope. 

Sheri continues.

‘Normally, we would wait until after these checks are completed to allow family and partners down, but Colston asked specifically for you. Several times, actually.’ Her mouth quirks into a soft smile. ‘He wanted you to know that he’s okay, and he’s sorry you had to see that.’ 

A soft sob of relief chokes out of your chest before you can stop it. 

‘So, so I can see him? Now?’ You ask through tears.

She nods, almost reassuringly. 

‘Yes. I’ve come to take you down.’

Her words release just some of the tension that your body has been holding since the minute Colston went down. 

‘Is he okay?’ you ask as Sheri leads you down the corridor and then into a back staircase. You know that this is where fans aren’t allowed, and you’re grateful that you won’t be asked questions by fans. As well-meaning as they may be, you just don’t have the energy for it. 

Sheri pauses to consider her words, but keeps walking. She knows how to handle things like this by now, knows how to talk to partners who are scared and saw their boyfriends or husbands go down the way Colston did. It never makes it easier, though. 

‘He’s going to be okay,’ she begins. Your heart loosens. ‘The initial checks weren’t overly worrying. He knew his name, knew where he was and what quarter the game was in. What concerned the med team was some slightly delayed processing, slurred speech and slowed eye movement. It was enough to rule him out there and then.’ 

Delayed processing.

Slurred speech.

Slowed eye movement.

Even from your limited medical knowledge, the clear signs of concussion were enough to make your heart rate spike once again. 

‘Okay. And… when I see him, what should I expect?’ 

‘He’ll probably apologise. He’s been apologising to everyone since he got to the tent. He feels guilty, responsible for the way the game ended.’ 

You can’t help but smile, despite the situation.

‘Sounds like Colston.’

‘Agreed. In terms of immediate and longer term aftercare, no screens, no driving and no bright lights. He also shouldn’t be left alone.’ 

You nod, mentally noting down her words and already making adjustments in the house. 

‘And warning signs to be aware of?’ 

She falls in step with you, looking at you with a small smile on her face again.

‘Not many are this… involved in the care of their partners, you know.’ 

You shrug, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

‘We’re in this together.’ 

‘That’s a nice thing to hear. Refreshing.’ She draws herself back up, all business once again. ‘If he starts to get confused, if his headache gets worse or nausea sets in, you call.’ Panic flares in your stomach. As if she can feel it, she steps closer. ‘But right now, this is manageable. I’ve seen far worse, and I know that doesn’t seem like much right now. But Colston’s tough, and he’s got you by his side. Having someone like you with him is a lot more than many NFL players can honestly say they have.’ 

The rest of the walk passes by in companionable silence. You’re internally preparing yourself for what lies ahead, for how to act around Colston, to bring up your walls so you can be the tough one.

At last, you reach a door that says MEDICAL ROOM A. 

‘He’s in here. Hugging is fine, just don’t pull him too hard. Don’t speak too loudly. Just remember that his brain’s taken a bit of a hit, so he might be a little emotional. Not quite the Colston you’re used to. He’ll come back, though.’ She pauses to allow you to prepare yourself. ‘Are you ready?’ 

‘Yeah,’ you say softly. ‘Just want to see him.’ 

‘Okay. You can knock, let him know it’s you. I’ll be back in ten minutes to take you to the locker room to collect his personal belongings. Equipment team have already taken his pads and helmet up to the storage. You’re doing really well.’ 

Sheri reaches out to squeeze your hand, and then walks off. 

Your hand raises and pauses by the door as the last of your resolve builds up. Then, you knock twice, softly.

‘Colst? It’s me.’ 

The answer comes a second later than it should. 

‘Come in, baby.’ 

When you turn the handle and open the door, the first thing you see is the sterility of the room. It’s white. Too white. The lights are too bright despite the injury sustained by the patient in the room. 

Colston is sat on the training table. His shoulders are slightly hunched and he’s too still, as if he’s been told not to move too much and is obeying that instruction to the letter.

He blinks up at you, eyes not quite focusing on you, and your heart shatters when he squints at you through the headache. Then he bows his head again as the light becomes too much for him to process. His body language alone screams guilt; slumped shoulders, hands fidgeting in his lap and posture weak, not the strong, statuesque stance you’re so used to. 

For a second, you just stand and look at him. 

‘Oh, baby,’ you whisper. Tears are already threatening, but you know you have to keep strong.

‘I’m okay, sweetheart. I’m sorry.’ It comes out softer than usual, even though his voice is wrecked from being on the field for nearly a full game. 

You cross the small room in just a few short strides and stop in front of him, thighs brushing his knees. He leans into your touch when you cradle his face in your hands, his hands reaching up to hold your forearms to anchor himself on you. 

The two of you are silent for a few moments. He still smells of turf, sweat and grime. He’s yet to shower, which you’ll no doubt help with once you’re home. His eye black is mostly wiped off but a few patches remain. Your thumb absently swipes away at them, trying to rid his face of what’s left of the game. 

He’s the first to wrap you up in a hug, pulling you closer to him as if he’s trying to assure you that he’s real, he’s there.

You take that as permission to wind your arms around his neck. 

‘I’m okay,’ he repeats in a murmur into your ear. ‘Took a bit of a hit, I know that, but they said it’s a mild concussion.’ His eyes lock on yours, wanting you to believe his next words. ‘Should be just fine in a few days.’ 

You hold his gaze for another second, before you rest your head on his broad shoulder, exhale into his neck and press a kiss to the damp skin there.

‘You scared me.’ 

He tightens his grip on you, reassuring but gentle. 

‘I know,’ he sighs heavily. ‘‘M sorry, love bug.’ 

You pull back from him just slightly and hold his face again. 

‘Just glad you’re alive. You’re here.’

He leans up to kiss your forehead.

‘We both are, sweetheart.’ 

You step back into him. You’re holding him just as much as he’s holding you. 

Not many words are exchanged after that. You just hold each other. Colston’s heart is still thrumming in his chest, but the more you hold onto him, the slower it gets. His huge hand rubs up and down your back in soothing strokes, while your thumbs brush gentle circles into his shoulder blades. 

It’s only when your shoulders gently heave with a sob that he taps you on the back.

‘Hey,’ he says softly. ‘Look at me.’ 

His eyes are still slightly out of focus when you look at him, but you know he’s lucid and meaning what he says. It’s his turn to cup your cheek in his large hands. One of his thumbs brushes away a stray tear that’s fallen down your cheek.

‘I’m sorry, I don’t mean to cry, I just…’ Your shoulders shake as another sob bursts out of your chest before you can stop it. Colston’s hand immediately rubs soothing circles into your back. ‘I feel bad for crying, you’re the one with the concussion, but I… I saw you go down, you didn’t get up, Colston, I was… I was so scared, nobody told me what was happening… I’m sorry…’ 

He pulls you closer so your faces are inches apart and his hands cradle both sides of your face, thumbs brushing away tears as they fall. 

‘Darlin’, I need you to look at me when I say this. Don’t ever apologise for feelin’, baby. Especially when it comes to things like this.’ His hands that are resting on your hips tighten their grip just slightly. The tone is firm, but the words are said quietly, reverently. ‘I went down, it wasn’t pretty. You’re allowed to cry. You’re allowed to be scared.’ 

You nod weakly. It will take a while for the words to become true in your heart, even though your head realises it now. Being scared is normal. You saw the love of your life go down and not get back up straightaway. That will mess with anyone’s head. 

He kisses you gently, unhurriedly, to bring you back to him. Colston can always tell when your head is running away with you. He’s getting quicker at catching you before you disappear. 

The kiss continues in that sweet, gentle way it always does when either of you need to remember that you’re here, you’re with him, you’re where you’re meant to be right now. You’re stood so close to him that your chests are touching. 

His lips pull away from yours and trace gentle kisses to the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, your forehead and then your temple. 

He takes your hand and brings up to his chest where you can feel his heart beating. It’s slower, now that the adrenaline and shock have both worn off.

‘Feel that, sweetheart?’ You nod again. ‘See, I’m right here, my girl. Right here. Not goin’ anywhere, promise. Neither are you.’ 

You shuffle closer to him again, not wanting to stray more than a foot away from him. Both of you are going to be clingy tonight, you know that much. He chuckles softly and winds his arms around your waist. 

‘I love you, baby. Thank you for being here.’ 

You kiss his cheek.

‘Nowhere else I’d rather be, Col. I love you more than anything.’ 

The moment is broken by a knock on the door, and you automatically step back from Colston, suddenly very aware that you’re still in his place of work. He keeps your hand in his, craving physical contact, like always.

One of the medical team steps in, followed closely by Sheri.

‘We just need to do a few more tests before he can go home,’ the med staffer explains quietly.

‘Y/N, I’ll take you to the locker room to collect the last of his belongings, like we talked about.’ 

You turn back to Colston, suddenly not wanting to leave his side. He nods encouragingly at you, a small smile flickering across his face, and squeezes your hand.

‘I’ll be okay, baby, go.’ 

You hesitate a moment longer, enough time for him to pull you back in for a sweet kiss, making both staff in the room look away pointedly, before he murmurs, ‘go, honey, I’ll be just fine, I promise’ against your lips. 

Finally, with one last squeeze of his enormous hand, you extricate yourself from his arms and exit the room, but not without a glance over your shoulder as the medical staffer holds a light out in front of Colston’s eye. 

It’s another quiet walk to the locker room. 

‘Here’s his locker,’ Sheri announces when you arrive at the locker bearing his number and team photo above the cubby hole. ‘Like I said before, the equipment team took all his pads, helmet and mouthguard back to Halas Hall. All that’s left is his duffle and backpack.’ 

You nod and busy yourself collecting everything to go into his backpack. 

It’s a backpack you’ve seen probably hundreds of times, but it still feels strange in your hands. It feels like you’re handling something that doesn’t belong to you. Colston makes everything look tiny, and this bag is no exception. 

His phone is beeping with messages, lighting up every few seconds. You recognise a few names; JJ McCarthy, a few friends from Gooding, coaches… He’ll respond to them eventually, when the concussion has eased. For now, though, you pocket his phone and shoulder his bag, carrying his duffle in your other hand. 

‘I’m ready,’ you say when Sheri comes back in. 

‘Okay. They’re still doing the last of the tests, but you’re welcome to wait outside. They won’t be long.’ 

The wait outside the room while they complete the last of the checks seems just as long as the wait for the game to finish. 

You can hear muffled voices from inside the room, Colston’s low timbre rumbling through the walls right to your bones. There are chairs for you to sit, but you don’t. That anxious energy is back again, worrying that they’ll find something, worrying that he’ll take a turn for the worse…

But then the door opens and he’s there. Tired eyes and shoulders still slightly lower than usual, but he’s there. His huge frame fills the entire doorframe, broad shoulders almost touching either sides of it. 

He reaches out a hand towards you the second he sees you.

‘All good to go home, babe,’ he smiles gently, as if he could sense that a spiral was imminent. ‘Long as you’re drivin’.’ 

You return his smile, relief finally flooding your body for the first time since seeing him go down, and cross the distance to him once more. When you stand close enough to him, he immediately pulls you in for a hug, holding you so close it’s like he’s scared you’ll float away if he loosens his grip even slightly. He kisses you again, softly and reassuringly, huge hands cupping your face to keep you close. 

‘Let’s take you home, superstar,’ you mumble against his lips. 

The two of you walk towards his car, keys in your hand because there’s simply no way he’s driving for at least a few days. It’s quiet, peaceful and reflective. 

Even with a concussion, Colston opens the door for you and holds out his hand to help you in. He leans in to press a fleeting kiss to your cheek as you pass him. You pretend not to notice, but your flaming red cheeks betray you. 

‘So this is it? No games until September?’ You ask as you buckle up inside the car.

‘Yeah. Feels weird.’ 

‘Good weird or bad weird?’ 

He tilts his head in thought. 

‘Weird in a way that will take a while to get used to, but will be nice once I’m used to it.’ 

You giggle and lean across the centre console to kiss him, wanting to be close to him. 

‘Look at you, all mature after your first proper NFL season.’ He laughs back at you, then winces when his head pangs. ‘Okay, no laughing for at least twenty-four hours.’ 

‘Kind of impossible with you around, darlin’.’

You scoff, laughing, and shove his chest playfully. 

‘Charmer.’ 

He doesn’t back down. He looks across at you, still slow in his movement but determined, even now, to make you blush as he fires a wink over at you. 

‘How do you think I pulled you, sweetheart?’ 

You look across at him after pulling out of the parking lot, wiggling your eyebrows playfully.

‘The half a bottle of vodka I’d had when we met certainly helped.’ 

It’s his turn to scoff and laugh, the first slice of normality returning. 

And you know from the second he reaches across to kiss your cheek, you know he’s going to be just fine. 

He’s got you. You’ve got him. You’ve got each other. 

And that’s enough.

The sun peaked through the curtains causing you to blink as you slowly woke up. The off-season meant you and Colston could sleep as late as you wanted to, you look at the clock to see its 10 am. Colston is still asleep, as he feels you moving to get out of bed he tightens his grip around your waist.

"Where are you going?" His morning voice is your weakness

"To start some breakfast" you reply as Colston tugs you back against his chest.

"No, your staying here" Colston mumbles against your neck as he places a few kisses on your neck. You can feel his morning wood poking you in the thigh, "I want you" Colston mumbles against your neck. He trails his hand down towards your bare cunt, your thanking him for his idea to sleep naked last night but after last nights activities it was much easier to sleep naked. Colston runs his pointer and middle finger through your wetness spreading it around, "your so wet for me baby."

"Your not the only one needy in the mornings" you reply.

Colston picks up you leg and lines his cock up with your entrance before slowly sinking into you. Once he bottoms out he stays still for a minute letting you adjust before he starts moving slowly.

Colston uses his free hand and puts it around your neck not squeezing just resting it before he moves your face so he can kiss you.

"Colst faster please" you beg.

Colston growls before he speeds up causing you to moan, "your so tight baby, squeezing me so well."

You let out a moan as Colston thrusts in and out of your sopping entrance, Colston starts kissing and biting along your neck marking you up.

"Rub your clit for me baby I want you to cum with me" Colston says.

You reach down and start circling your clit causing you to moan.

"Good girl" Colston says.

You let out a moan as Colston starts snapping his hips faster desperately chasing your release and his. "I'm so close baby, get ready to cum with me" Colston says.

"Colston I'm cumming" you manage to get out as your orgasm hits you. Colston stills as your orgasm triggers his orgasm causing him to groan in your ear.

In Colston’s mind, there’s no feeling better than the sight of your mouth taking every inch of him, a mixture of saliva and him dribbling down your chin as he comes inside your mouth, but there’s something extra special about it being after a huge win.

The Bears are bound for the divisional playoffs, and you’re going to be standing by him through every step. 

Now, though, the tension has reduced to a simmer. 

Colston’s been upstairs in his gaming room playing Madden with a few of the boys for a couple of hours. Echoes of shouts, whoops and the occasional swearword tumble down to you in the kitchen and you smile at the thought of him being happy. 

This is the happiest you’ve seen him since your Michigan days. You’re loving every second of his Bears career, and it’s only the start. 

But you can’t help but feel a little… neglected tonight. A little forgotten about. Colston has barely spoken to you since dinner, just a quick smile here and there while he’s locked in. 

So, a plan has formulated in your brain.

A wicked smile appears on your face as you prepare the last of the vegetables, then pad upstairs to the gaming room.

He doesn’t even acknowledge you when you poke your head through the doorway. He just continues chipping whoever’s on the other end of the headset, probably Rome and DJ. 

The lights are low. Colston’s face is illuminated by the faint blue glow from the PlayStation. His voice is still hoarse from the game yesterday and it sends a vibration of pure desire shooting up your spine.

‘Colst?’ you ask quietly. 

No response. 

‘Colston.’ 

Nothing. 

You huff to yourself in annoyance and move further into the room, standing behind his chair. 

Still, though, he doesn’t notice you. Normally, he senses you the minute you walk in, but now? It’s like you’re a ghost.

The more you stare at him, the more feral you’re starting to feel. 

He’s sat in the chair with his feet on the floor, huge thighs bulging enough to threaten to rip the unfairly small Bears shorts he’s wearing and his hair mussed from the headset. He’s wearing a plain white tee that stretches taut across his chest and shoulders, long legs stretched out lazily in front of him. 

After a few minutes of watching his game from behind him, you make a decision. 

Enough is enough. 

You’re in dire need of attention. Your body craves his hands on you like a drowning man craves oxygen. 

Now is the time to pounce.

When you round the chair to face him, his eyes flick briefly over to you and he smiles softly at you.

‘Hey, you good?’ he asks. Even in those three little words, he’s distracted and not looking at you properly, attention completely focused on the game. 

You don’t respond. 

Instead, you move slowly towards him, toes curling into the carpet as if they’re the only thing that’s anchoring you to the ground. 

It’s only when you’re standing over him, your shadow from the screen behind you falling over his rugged face, that he finally looks at you properly. His eyes are darkening as he takes in your appearance, one of his old Michigan shirts and a pair of shorts, legs on full show in front of him. 

Colston’s mouth goes dry at the sight of you. The controller slides from his hands onto the couch next to him, forgotten at last. You can hear DJ’s voice in his headset, calling his name as the game continues without him, but he doesn’t respond. 

‘You’ve been ignoring me all evening, Colly,’ you murmur to him. ‘Been patient all evening. Been waiting for you.’

‘I’ve been right here, baby,’ he mumbles pathetically.

‘But I need attention.’ 

You step forward to close the distance even further and waste no further time in lowering yourself not so carefully onto his lap, knees moving to bracket themselves on either side of his hips. He grunts as the weight of you falls onto him. One of his hands moves instinctively to hold your waist, where your thigh curves into your ass, and squeezes. 

His face falls slack in shock at the sight of you sat on his lap like this. He can feel your core dripping through your shorts. The groan that threatens to bubble up out of his mouth is sinful, and then you have the audacity to rub his firm pecs, hands gliding up to his shoulders… 

He’s in dangerous territory. He knows that far too well.

‘Darlin’, you didn’t say anythin’.’ 

You rock your hips, just once, and the impact is immediate. He hisses through his teeth at the friction and has to physically look away from you, rubbing his face with one hand while the other remains on your ass. 

‘I said something. I said something a few times, actually. You just weren’t listening.’ You shift yourself so you’re sat right on top of his dick. You can feel it hardening beneath you, the thought making you tremble with excitement. 

‘What’s your plan?’ he asks with a devilish smirk. 

You lean in and press a kiss to the shell of his ear. His skin erupts with goosebumps at the feeling of your breath fanning his neck as you mutter the next sentence to him, almost purring with need.

‘Pull your shorts down, Colly.’ 

He looks at you, eyes wide. All traces of the arrogant smirk are gone. 

‘B-but…’ 

You cut him off with a kiss to his mouth. It’s hard and needy, enough to make his dick throb under you. He grinds his teeth when you rock your hips into him again, slow, purposeful and deliberate. 

‘I said, pull your shorts down, Loveland,’ you hiss against his lips. 

It doesn’t take him long to obey. A few seconds, at most. As much as he’s dreading the real possibility of embarrassing himself in front of his teammates, there’s nothing he loves more than fucking your mouth. He knows he’s not paid you enough attention tonight. This is his comeuppance.

His wide hips shimmy underneath you, bucking up as he lowers his shorts with shaking fingers. 

Seconds later, his fully hard length springs free from his shorts. It’s huge, thick and veiny, already leaking with precum that you can’t wait to taste. Colston actually swears under his breath when you rock your hips again, harsher and more provocative than before. 

‘Baby, fuck, the boys…’ he whispers urgently.

‘The boys are grown men. So are you,’ you singsong sweetly into his ear again. ‘You’ve found this stupid game so interesting for the whole evening, surely not even a nice little blowjob can distract you?’ Your lips graze across his cheek, down his jaw and find that sweet spot on his neck. 

Colston whimpers into your neck when you suck and nip at the skin next to his Adam’s apple, and you can tell he’s trying so hard not to be caught on the still-hot mic. 

You pull back to reach across him, grab the controller and push it back into his hand. 

‘Keep playing. Keep quiet,’ you order quietly. ‘Don’t you dare mute yourself, because I’ll know.’ 

His shoulders move as he inhales deeply, trying to keep the last morsel of composure, but then you shift position, moving yourself so you’re kneeling on the carpeted floor between his huge legs. 

‘You are…’ he starts to say, but breaks off when you kiss the inside of his muscular thigh.

You giggle softly.

‘What am I, Colly?’ 

‘You’re a fuckin’ menace, is what you are.’ 

Another kiss, higher up his thigh this time. 

‘You love it.’

And God forgive him, he does. 

When you finally take his length in your mouth, his whole body jolts at the sensation. He fists the arm of the couch. One of your hands braces yourself on his thigh while the other wraps around his calf. Your teeth scrape up his shaft and he claps a hand over his mouth to stop the grunt from being caught by the mic. 

‘Are you playing?’ you purr in between kissing his tip. He closes his eyes and nods weakly. 

‘Y-yeah, yeah baby, I’m… I’m playing.’ 

‘Good boy.’ 

He swears under his breath again, head tilting back onto the back of the couch.

You hear Rome on the headset, asking Colston if he’s good for another round, and you nod encouragingly up at him while hollowing your cheeks to take him deeper into your mouth. His mouth purses in shock, but you tap his thigh as if to say, ‘use your words.’ 

‘Ye-yeah, man, let’s… let’s do this…’ He looks down at you as he says the last three words, as if challenging you. You smile up at him, impossibly sweet and demure, and bat your eyelashes. 

You work him expertly. His enormous bulk is tense as he feels you swirl his dick around your mouth, then pull away to press gentle kisses to the bulbous tip. His huge hands tremble violently in their effort to keep hold of the controller. Every few seconds, he glances down at you, the sight of you on your knees in front of him, slurping on his cock and the mixture of your saliva and his precum dribbling down your chin gradually proving too much. 

Instinct tells him to rock his hips to fuck your mouth, but he’s winning on the game, he doesn’t want to be the reason they lose… 

‘Holy f-fuck,’ he gasps quietly out of nowhere when he feels his length hitting the very back of your throat. Part of you hopes the gag that retches out of your throat isn’t caught on the mic, while another, bigger part of you secretly hopes it is. 

He’s normally swearing like a sailor while playing, especially Madden, but the game’s loading with no action taking place.

‘Bro, you good?’ DJ laughs over voice chat.

Colston glares at you, trying to hold some semblance of composure together, but fails the second he sees you lick his length from his balls right to the tip. A strand of saliva sticks to your lips as you pull away from him with dark eyes and swollen lips.

‘’m fine, just… external interference,’ he replies darkly, but there’s no threat behind it. He’s enjoying himself far too much, seeing you kneeling in front of him and taking all of him in your mouth. He’s exercising so much self control; usually he’s loud during sex, especially when you give him head, but having to keep his mouth shut is proving harder than he first thought. 

Another groan threatens to bubble up from his throat, deep and rumbling.

‘Stay focused, Colly, keep playing,’ you murmur. 

‘Please, baby,’ he mouths at you. ‘I love you, I’m sorry.’ 

You just smirk back at him, shrug your shoulders as if to say, ‘what’re you gonna do about it?’, and take him back in your mouth. He actually has to close his eyes and removes a hand from the controller to cradle the back of your head, encouraging you to bob your head up and down on his dick. His hips buck up and down in time with your rhythm. 

The room is humid, the air thick with tension. The smell of sex is already lingering and he’s not even inside you yet. 

The moment that seals the deal is when you hum contentedly against his dick. He’s close, you can feel it, but the vibration of your voice on his dick accelerates the feeling of his high approaching him. His hips have become sluggish in their rocking motion into your mouth. His face is tense, eyebrows furrowed, and it’s not because he’s focused on the game.

Colston’s hand leaves the back of your neck to grab a pillow for him to moan into, but quick as a flash, you reach up and knock it clean out of his grasp. He widens his eyes at you, wordlessly pleading with you for some semblance of dignity. 

You just smirk up at him. He momentarily sees stars at the sight of your watermelon lipgloss coating his dick in a layer of thin pinkish hue and mixing with his precum and your saliva. 

‘Oh, sweetheart,’ he moans out loud as his high approaches with gathering speed like a tsunami threatening the coastline. 

There’s a very heavy silence on the other side of the headset.

You pause, just for a second, shoulders heaving with silent giggles at the way he’s just told on himself, then hum again, eyes watering at the feeling of his dick continually hitting the back of your mouth over and over again, the result of his hips repeatedly snapping up to fuck your mouth in that delicious rhythm.

The boys have gone quiet again, but neither of you care. One of them asks what’s going on. They definitely know by now that something’s going on with him. 

Colston doesn’t answer. He’s too busy focusing on his dick throbbing in your mouth, close to reaching that high. 

With one final bob of your head and one last suck on the most sensitive part of his tip, you feel his cock seize beneath your lips. Warmth hits the back of your throat, spilling so fast that it makes you retch again, this time loudly, loud enough for the boys to hear. His head rocks back to the back of the couch and his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he breathes hard through his nose. Your eyes water with pleasure at the feel of him slipping down your throat. What you can’t swallow dribbles out of your mouth and down your chin. 

You gaze up at the man sat above you. His broad chest is heaving with adrenaline from his high. When he looks down at you, eyes hooded and dark upon locking with yours, there’s a thin film of sweat on his forehead. Your hair is tangled from his fingers threading through it. 

Colston gestures with his hand for you to come back up to him. You crawl back up his chest and lock your arms around his neck, fingers combing through the hairs at the back of his head, while your knees sit on either side of his hips again. He’s still breathing heavily under you as his arms hold you steady, fingers splayed across your back and rubbing up and down. His cock is still hard, slapping against his happy trail down to his shorts.

You rest your head on his shoulder with your face turned towards him. 

‘Hey,’ he murmurs quietly to you as the boys load in another game. You look up at him and he kisses you, hand cradling your jaw. ‘Keep me warm, baby girl?’ He smirks at the sight of your entire face lighting up with a feral grin when you realise what he’s saying.

Neither of you say another word. He adjusts his position, sitting lower in the couch and widening his hips to allow you to sink yourself onto him, both of you closing your eyes in pleasure at the stretch he gives you. 

‘One more game, baby girl, then I’m yours.’ His lips graze your shoulder, pressing quiet kisses to your neck as they move up to finally capture your mouth. 

He sighs into your mouth when he tastes himself on your lips. 

‘’M gonna fuck you so good, honey, right here on this couch,’ he promises into the kiss. ‘Make up for the evenin’ you spent without me. ‘M sorry.’ 

You squeeze your arms tighter around his thick neck, reassuring him that you forgive him. 

‘Focus, Colly, get us the dub.’ 

The game starts, and for a few minutes, all you can hear is the roar of the crowd within the screen and his fingers padding at the controller. There’s the occasional flick of the joystick and he hisses to himself when he misses a chance. 

Through it all, he stays buried to the hilt inside you. Every now and then, your pelvic bone rocks against him to get some friction, or you tighten your pelvic muscles around him. When you do so, his arm grips you tighter. It’s his way of wordlessly confirming, ‘yeah, I’m here, I haven’t forgotten’, although with you draped across his chest and his dick deep inside you, it’s hard to think of anything but you. 

At last, the final whistle blows and the boys cheer at the win. 

Colston can’t log off fast enough. The second the game saves, he’s turned off the console and thrown the controller somewhere onto the floor, a problem for the future. 

‘You,’ he growls. ‘Are a fuckin’ menace.’ His arms hold you flush to his chest and he all but throws you down onto the couch. He looms above you, smiling all the same at your triumphant grin that you got what you wanted. ‘If you wanted me so bad, baby girl, you just had to say.’ He leans down to kiss your forehead that’s already beading with sweat. 

You shrug innocently.

‘My way was more fun, don’t you think?’

He leans down to kiss you again, smirking against your mouth.

‘If by fun you mean, I just embarrassed myself in front of my teammates, then yeah.’ 

You scrunch your nose and grin wickedly. No shame. No apology. 

Colston immediately shimmies your shorts down your legs and they join his shorts on the floor, to be forgotten about for now. He spreads your legs and lines his cock, the tip brushing your entrance, teasing you. 

‘So lucky, baby, can’t believe I get to call this pretty pussy mine,’ he murmurs into your ear. ‘You made me feel so good back there, baby, took all of me in that perfect mouth like the good girl you are.’ 

This time, it’s your turn to whimper. Your fingers fist his shirt, wanting more contact. 

‘Off,’ you mumble. Quick as a flash, he shrugs it off over his shoulders and tosses it onto the floor. 

‘Your turn, sweetheart, let me see all of you.’ 

He helps you out of the Michigan shirt. When it joins the rest of your clothes on the floor, he groans at the sight of your tits. The nipples are hard and the skin is stippling from the sudden change in temperature. 

‘Look at these beautiful tits, all mine,’ he murmurs, immediately taking a breast into his mouth. The other hand kneads your other tit, swirling the nipple around. 

His tip continues to nudge your entrance and you squirm with need, hands tangling in his hair and pulling gently. 

‘C-Colston… pl-please…’ you stammer. He chuckles into your chest.

‘What do you want, baby girl? Use that snarky mouth of yours, I know you can, darlin’.’ 

Your body jerks when his teeth gently nip at your nipple, teasing you. 

‘Words, baby girl.’

‘Need… need you inside… me, please, Colly.’ Your breathing is heavy beneath him, and he knows exactly what you want. 

Colston pulls back to watch you writhe underneath him for a second longer, before he gives you what you want. 

‘Atta girl,’ he murmurs into your neck, and then he’s sliding inside you, thick and whole. ‘Wanna get cracked, sweetheart? Want to feel all of me?’

You nod eagerly, but you know that won’t suffice.

Sure enough, he mutters, ‘words, please,’ into your collarbone in between pressing kisses and nipping at the skin there. 

‘Give it to me, Colston, give it all to me, I can take it.’

He smiles proudly against your skin and you immediately feel him bottoming out inside you. 

‘Fuck, baby, you’re so tight f’me,’ he hisses through his teeth as he feels himself deep inside you. ‘This good, baby girl?’ 

‘Yes, Col, feels, fuck, feels so good…’ 

He gives you a second to adjust, before he snaps his hips up, fucking you in that delicious way only he knows how. 

The sounds that fill the room are sinful; your moans of pleasure as he hits that sweet spot inside you, his grunts of exertion, the couch creaking and begging for mercy beneath the two of you as he intensifies the rhythm, and the sound of skin slapping against skin as he drives into you over and over again. 

Your body arches beneath him as his hips continue to snap above you, driving his dick deeper inside you, but his hand moves to your abdomen, keeping your body down where he wants you. 

‘Stay right there, don’t you dare move,’ he drawls. His Idaho accent always thickens during sex, and you love it. Your favourite thing in the world is seeing the country boy fall out of him, and it’s always when it’s just the two of you, when he’s deep inside you, that it happens. 

‘Fuck… Col, oh my… you’re so… so deep…’ 

He grins happily and kisses you again, sweaty forehead resting against yours. 

‘Yeah, feel that, baby girl? Takin’ me so good, see that? Look down, baby, look at us.’ 

You glance down at your pussy and your eyes immediately widen when you see the way his hips are driving in and out of you, like a train’s pistons. He’s thick and hard, coated in a mixture of your slick and his cum that’s left over from your mouth. 

‘Fuck,’ you whimper. 

‘Still good, honey?’ he asks gently, impossibly gentle for how hard he’s fucking you. 

‘I’m good, Col, I… fuck, I love you,’ you reply. Your hands move up to cradle his jaw, pulling him down close to you so you can kiss him fervently. 

‘I love you too, sweet girl, love how good you take me, love this perfect pussy. Made f’me, like God made you just for me.’ 

Colston has a unique way of talking absolute filth into your ear while also making it perfectly sweet and loving. 

‘Talk to me, sweetheart, tell me how good you feel.’ 

Waves of pleasure wash over you. You can feel it start to crest, that familiar feeling in your abdomen twisting and coiling with every piston of his hips into you. 

‘I’m, fuck, I’m close, Colston, please… feel so good.’ It comes out as little more than a whimper. Your entire body is on fire. Every synapse is firing on high. You feel him in every part of you, he’s all you can think of. Nothing else matters, not while he’s making love to you like this. 

‘C’mon, baby, let me hear you, show me how good I make you feel,’ he whispers encouragingly. 

You’re close. It’s like walking the edge of a dangerous cliff, close enough to the edge for one little push to make you fall.

That little push comes in the form of Colston’s fingers reaching for your clit. He works your clit perfectly, just like he always does, and you know from the way the coil is completely stretched in your stomach that you’re seconds away from that delicious high… 

He thumbs a circle into your clit and the coil snaps. 

With a scream of his name, you come crashing down over the edge, orgasm hitting you like a semi truck going twice the speed limit. Your entire body is trembling. Your legs are already spasming as the aftershocks of your high reverberate through you.

Colston chuckles happily at the sight of you coming apart around him, and he follows you seconds later, filling you up to the brim with his warmth. 

His hips cease in their snapping movements, but he remains looming above you as the adrenaline starts to seep out of his system. His huge arms move to brace himself on either side of you.

Both of your bodies are slick with sweat. Your limbs stick together as you untangle yourselves from each other, Colston shifting so he’s lying on his back with you next to him, head on his shoulder and his arm around you. He reaches across to grab the blanket, as he knows you get cold after sex. 

There’s a comfortable silence for a couple of minutes, in which his lips press gentle kisses to your forehead, nose and cheeks to help ground you back in the moment, just like he always does after intense sex.

Then, he speaks softly.

‘That was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.’

You look over at him, quirking an eyebrow. 

‘Sex on the couch?’ you tease.

‘Not just sex on the couch,’ he replies, almost shyly. ‘You givin’ me head while I’m gaming. That was fucking hot.’ 

You blush at his admission.

‘I was worried maybe you wouldn’t like it.’

He looks over at you, eyes full of love and fondness for you. You can feel the adoration seeping out of him.

‘If I didn’t like it, I’d say, I promise. You don’t have to worry about that, angel.’ 

Your body relaxes further into him with the knowledge that he enjoyed it, filing it away for future reference.

Another pause follows, before he rubs his face with a sheepish grin.

‘The boys absolutely knew.’ 

This time, you cackle out a laugh and bury your face into his neck. He lifts you effortlessly onto his chest, chuckling along with you, and squeezes you tightly. Your head rests right over his heart and you listen to the strong, steady rhythm of it beating. 

‘You have my thoughts and prayers when you go into work tomorrow, Col.’ 

He kisses the top of your head, smiling like a fool.

‘Yeah, I appreciate it, baby. It was the best distraction ever.’ 

You tilt your head up to kiss him through a shit-eating grin on your face, making him laugh harder. 

‘So you won’t ignore me again?’ 

‘Oh, baby, if it means you give me the best head of my life while I’m gamin’, I might have to ignore you more often.’ 

It’s his turn to cackle with laughter at the look of complete betrayal on your face, and he’s quick to reassure you that he’ll never go that long again without giving you attention.

‘I’m serious, though, honey. If you need me, just say.’

You kiss him, sweet and gentle. 

‘I’ll hold you to that, Loveland.’ 

The two of you have no further plans for the day. You need to clean yourself up, Colston needs a shower, dinner needs to be finished and it will probably be takeout instead of what you were making, but for now, the two of you stay wrapped up in each other, safe and warm in each other’s arms. 

From the morning after the last game, when Colston came home from his exit interview, he’s been exhausted. 

Most nights, he’s barely made it to nine in the evening before shuffling upstairs to bed. 

He still hugs you, still kisses you, but it never… goes anywhere. It’s all just sweet touches and kisses, neither of which you mind. 

You love it, and you would never dream of making him do anything he didn’t want to or making him have sex when he was too tired or sore from the season. 

But you’re starting to get pent up with need.

The Saturday after the last game of the season, nearly a week of doing nothing together. 

You come home late from dinner with a few friends to find Colston on the couch. There’s a massage gun in his hand and he’s trying to reach his shoulder, the one that he had surgery on before the season, but he’s having trouble reaching the perfect spot on his shoulder blade. 

He’s shirtless. Your mind goes temporarily blank at the sight of his enormous shoulders, toned abs and deliciously biteable biceps. The sinews of his muscles flex and ripple in the low light of the living room. Your mouth waters before you can even register it. You don’t even realise how hard you’re clenching your hands until you feel the pain in your palm. 

The sound of your keys dropping into the bowl on the entryway table alerts him to your arrival. When he looks up and sees you shrugging off your coat, his whole face lights up with a gentle smile. 

‘There she is.’ 

Something in his body shifts the second you make eye contact with him. His shoulders drop, then he leans forward on the seat in anticipation. 

It’s clear that he’s happy to see you. Relieved, even. Then something else melts into his eyes, something that makes them flash. Could it be… need? Just a little bit of… arousal? 

You’re intrigued. You’re willing to bite. So you walk over to him, heels clacking on the hardwood beneath them.

The closer you get to him, the more his face darkens.

You stand next to him, so close that you can feel the heat from his body. 

‘Hey, Colst,’ you murmur.

‘Hi baby girl,’ he replies, voice equally soft. ‘Good night?’

You hum in response.

‘Better, now.’

His eyes rake over your body, mouth slowly falling open as he takes in the little black dress that shows both cleavage and leg, accentuated by the black six-inch heels you’re wearing. One of his enormous hands grips your calf just strong enough to make a gasp leave your body. 

‘You’re staring,’ you say softly. 

He doesn’t even try to hide the up-and-down he gives you with his eyes. Colston knows he hasn’t paid you nearly enough attention over the past week. 

That changes tonight, he decides, matter-of-factly.

‘God, you are so perfect.’ 

You lean down to kiss him, humming against his lips in response. You’re unable to stop yourself. As your lips move against each other, slow and desperate, he groans into your mouth. The sound is sinful and makes heat pool low and bubbling in your stomach. 

‘Give it here, Colly.’ 

Colston looks at you, confused, but then sees your outstretched hand in the direction of the massage gun. 

‘Oh, baby, you don’t have to, it’s…’ All protests, whether genuine or otherwise, stop when he looks up to see the way that your eyes are hooded and dark with need. ‘Yeah. Okay. Here.’ 

You smirk in victory, knowing exactly the effect you’re having on him. 

The massage gun is heavy in your hands. You flick the on button and the room instantly fills with the dull, whirring thrum of the gun. 

‘Where?’ you ask, barely above a whisper, so quiet that you’re surprised he can hear you over the gun. 

‘Uh, just… on the shoulder blade, right side,’ Colston gestures with his hand where he needs it. ‘Just go round in circles. I’ll tell you if you need to move.’ 

You nod and move closer. Your body shifts so that you’re half standing, half kneeling on the couch behind him. Your body tingles with the proximity. 

The gun moves towards his skin. 

‘Tell me if it hurts?’ You’re suddenly scared of causing another injury, but he reaches back and squeezes your thigh.

‘Baby, I block three hundred pound men for a living. You could never hurt me.’ 

The room falls quiet the second the massage head of the gun hits his skin. A vein in his neck pops when he clenches his jaw without even realising, making you smirk behind him. Colston’s head tips forward just a fraction to allow you more access to his shoulder.

‘Left a bit, babe, please?’

When you obey, he actually hisses through his teeth when the massager hits a particularly troublesome knot in his muscles. 

‘Fuck, that feels good,’ he groans into the air. 

Your brain temporarily goes offline, but you continue to slowly move the gun in circles around his shoulder. The skin is turning slightly red from the impact, but he never tells you to stop. 

Colston’s never been so turned on in his life. 

All thoughts have abandoned his brain. The only thing he can focus on right now is you, massaging his shoulder with a Theragun while standing behind him, wearing a tiny black dress and tottering heels. The perfume you’re wearing is sensual and heady, and then he realises with a low, guttural groan that it’s one that he bought for you. 

To make matters worse, the hand that isn’t holding the gun slips to the back of his neck, playing with the short hairs at the nape. Then they move into his hair and tug at random strands, pulling his head back towards you. 

‘Baby,’ he groans out loud when you kiss him. A smirk appears on your face when you see that your dark red lipstick has transferred onto his mouth, slightly smudged. 

‘Hi Colly,’ you singsong quietly in response. ‘Missed you.’

‘You saw me this morning.’

You lean down and kiss him again, still slow, still unhurried despite the tension that’s crackling between you. Your lips move against his at a snail’s pace. He’s craving more, you can tell. He runs warm anyway, but you can feel the way his body temperature has risen since you took over the massage gun. 

He actually whimpers, like a child that’s had their favourite candy taken away from them, when you pull back to purr into his ear,

‘That’s not what I meant, Loveland.’ 

His eyes darken even further and he reaches back to grab the gun.

‘We’re done here.’ 

‘But Colly, I’m helping!’ You reply sweetly, eyes wide in faux indignation. ‘The Bears can have a new athletic trainer, I can help…’ 

Quick as a flash, tight end reflexes kicking in without prior thought, Colston pulls you down into his lap, arms cradling your body so you’re lying across his lap and facing towards him. He’s hard as a rock underneath your ass that’s lying snug on his crotch. He kisses you roughly, lips attacking yours in that hungry way it makes your mind go hazy.

‘I’ve gone too long without makin’ love to you, darlin’.’ He murmurs the words against your lips, then trails kisses down your cheek and following the line of your jaw. ‘Could tell you’ve been missin’ me, baby, could feel you missin’ my cock inside you, that true, huh?’

One of his hands moves to your thigh, just high enough to make stars appear in your eyes. It’s not where you want him, though. Your dress hiked up your legs when he pulled you down onto his lap so he has free and unlimited access to your pussy… but his hand doesn’t move. It just rests there, claiming and possessive on your skin. 

Colston nibbles your bottom lip and the moan that jumps out of you is utterly sinful. It bounces off the walls, echoing around the otherwise quiet room. He chuckles appreciatively through kissing your neck, teeth nibbling on the skin and causing bruises to bloom already.

‘You know I love the sounds you make, sweetheart, but tell me how much you’ve missed me being balls-deep inside you. Need to hear your words before I take you upstairs.’ 

It’s your turn to whimper. Your entire body is white-hot with arousal. It takes a few seconds for your mind to clear and words to form in your mouth.

‘I-I’ve missed - fuck - missed you, Col-Colston, you were… you were tired, though,’ you manage to get out. It’s pathetic, really, how he reduces you to a mumbling, stammering mess every time. You wouldn’t have it any other way, though, not when his hands are burning against your skin and when his mouth is pebbling kisses to your neck…

His head moves from the crook of your neck, where a variety of bites now litter your skin, purple and blue already, back to your lips. The kiss when his mouth meets yours is searing. Your vision goes foggy all over again. All you can focus on is him, the way he smells of clean laundry and something woodsy, his hair tickling your forehead as the kiss deepens in intensity and his huge biceps trapping you next to him with nowhere else to go. 

‘Good girl,’ he growls. ‘C’mere, and hold on.’ Without another word, his arms tighten around you and you know what’s coming, so you loop your arms around his neck and hold on.

And suddenly, you’re airborne, Colston holding you bridal-style in his arms.

Neither of you break the kiss as he carries you upstairs, expertly negotiating the stairs and doors on the way to the bedroom. When he reaches the master suite, he places you down on the bed, still gentle and precious in the way he lowers you onto the mattress. 

His enormous form looms over you, all huge shoulders and toned biceps and washboard abs. Your mind temporarily goes hazy with how beautiful he is, and he’s all yours. 

He reattaches his lips to yours, breathing heavily and hands roaming your body. Yours move to his bare chest, skin flaming hot to your touch and warming up your hands that are still getting warmth back from your journey home. The sensation of your cold hands on his warm skin makes him hiss through his teeth.

Colston shifts without breaking the kiss so his shoulders are directly above your head. They’re so broad that he blocks the skylight above the bed. It’s dark outside, so you can see your reflection and the muscles of his back in the darkened glass above you. 

Your palm roams his bare chest and stops, right over his heart. It’s pounding in his chest cavity, harder even than it is when he goes onto the field. 

‘Heart’s going fast, Colst.’ 

‘Yeah, well,’ he grits out through his teeth, breath whispering hot and intense against your face. ‘My woman is laid out on the bed in front of me and she’s got too many clothes on for my liking.’ 

You grin into the kiss and he uses the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth. 

‘So take ‘em off, then, baby.’

He instantly obliges, unzipping your dress and shimmying it down your thighs. Your bra comes next. It’s thrown somewhere over his shoulder with no thought to where it lands. He immediately takes one of your nipples into his mouth, swirling the hardened nub with his tongue and making you arch up beneath him. 

Electricity surges through your body. It’s becoming painfully clear that neither of you are going to last long tonight. 

You suddenly remember that your heels are still on your feet, but he stops you the second he feels your hand moving towards the clasp, hand gripping your wrist and moving your arm back to him.

‘Nope. The heels stay on.’ 

‘But what about my…’ 

Colston doesn’t let you finish your question. The tell-tale sound of tearing fabric tells you that your panties are no more, making you whine. Cool air rushes against your soaking pussy and you hiss at the sensation. 

‘Colston,’ you whine, ‘I liked that pair.’

He moves so he’s above you again, lips inches away from yours. His eyes are almost black with lust. It drives you even more insane. 

‘I’ll buy you more, sweetheart.’ 

And then he’s kissing you again, hands roaming your naked body as if he’s committing the feel of you back into his memory after a week of not appreciating you the way he should have, mapping every sinew, every perfect inch of you. The kisses move down your body, in between the valley between your breasts and down to your sides, inching closer to where you need him most but not quite reaching it. 

‘Colston, please,’ you mumble pathetically. 

He chuckles, the sound reverberating through his chest. 

‘I wanna take my time with you, baby girl.’ 

‘But I am slightly wine drunk and I need you.’ 

He shifts his body to sit between your legs, looking up at you with that shit-eating smirk that means he’s about to go down on you in a way that should be recorded in the history books. 

Without another word, his mouth finds you in a way that has your body arching up off the mattress like you’ve been touched with a live-wire. 

‘Oh - Col - fuck…’ you whimper. Your eyes flutter shut in pleasure as he grips your thighs slightly tighter than usual to hold you open for him. He licks you in long, meaningful strokes that has you gasping and mewling all at the same time. 

He finds that spot almost immediately, curling his tongue around it to make you squirm underneath him. Your head curls back into the pillow behind you, while one of your hands disappears into his hair to thread through the dark strands. They’re longer than they have been all season, making it the perfect length for you to hold onto and keep him there. 

Your legs hang limply on the bed as Colston’s mouth continues its work on your clit. He can see the way your feet are weighed down by the stilettos, and it makes him even more feral for you. 

‘Colly - ‘m gonna…’ 

The sentence disappears on your mouth the second one finger, then two fingers slide into you. They curl up and hit that spot inside you, the sensation making your body arch off the mattress. His name escapes your mouth in something that’s not a scream but not a whisper, something in between. 

He hums against your core and the vibration is what pushes you over the edge. 

‘Mm,’ he hums, ‘let me hear you, baby girl.’ 

The coil inside you snaps without any prior warning. Heat blooms over your body as pleasure rocks you to your core, pulsing through you in shockwaves. Colston’s mouth stays on you through it all, only moving away when the stimulation becomes too much. 

‘H-holy fuck, Col,’ you whimper. It comes out as less sound, more breath. 

He smiles wickedly from between your legs. His chin glistens with your slick, fresh from your orgasm, and the sight makes warmth thrum through your entire body. 

‘God, you’re so beautiful.’

And he’s right. Your bare chest heaves with the aftershocks of your orgasm. Beads of sweat trickle down the valley between your breasts, making your mouth twitch at the ticklish sensation. Behind your head, on the pillow, your hair fans across the material, creating a halo effect that makes you look angelic in the late evening light from the window. 

You try to sit up to reach him faster, but he places a warm, huge hand on your shoulder to encourage you to stay horizontal.

‘Let me take care of you, sweetheart,’ he murmurs. He crawls up the bed to lie on top of you, mouth finding yours once again. They move against yours as if they’re trying to devour you while one of his hands moves to gently cradle your face. 

‘P-please, Colston, I need… need you.’ 

‘Alright, honey, alright, I hear you,’ he whispers against your mouth. You feel his hips rock and thighs shuffle above you. Moments later, something hard and fleshy hits the inside of your thigh, and you realise it’s him. Warm, thick and already soaked with pre-cum. 

He looks at you, eyebrow raised in a silent ask for consent, and you kiss him with a nod. He adjusts his hips to line himself up with you. 

‘Thighs a little wider for me, baby.’ 

You comply and are instantly rewarded, with a gasp from your mouth, with the sensation of him pushing into you, slowly but determinedly. It’s deliciously steady, the way he fills you up. 

Above you, Colston grunts at the feeling of you taking him perfectly, just like you always do. When he bottoms out, the stretch of him inside you makes your eyes water. 

‘H-holy shit…’ he groans in pleasure through scrunched eyes. One of his hands reaches up to hold him steady against the headboard behind you, muscles flexing in his bicep as he does so. 

‘Colston, move, please,’ you snap quietly with a gentle tap to his face to bring him back to the moment. 

He smirks down at you.

‘My bad, baby, thought you needed a minute to get used to me back inside you.’

‘Don’t flatter yourself, Loveland.’ 

The smirk turns into a shit-eating grin, as he knows that you’re loving this. He loves when you get snippy like this. 

When he starts moving, stars appear in your vision. Your walls squeeze around him, adjusting to the feeling of him again. The thrusts to start with are soft, steady, getting used to each other again after so long without this feeling, this intimacy. 

‘Feel good, sweetheart?’ Colston asks huskily into your ear as he continues his rhythm. 

‘Harder, Col, faster,’ you reply. He kisses you once, twice, then holds your lips with his. You moan, loud and uninhibited, into his mouth as the pace and strength of his hips driving into you picks up.  The sound makes him grin into your mouth, like it always does. 

Every other thought melts away. Nothing else matters but him. 

The room is quiet. All you can hear is the obscene sounds of sweaty skin slapping against sweaty skin, his grunts with every thrust and your own gasps of pleasure with every piston of his hips. 

‘There’s my girl, huh,’ he mutters into your mouth. ‘Takin’ me so well, look at you, wearin’ nothin’ but those damn heels while I fuck you, hottest thing I’ve ever seen.’ 

You’re so overwhelmed with pleasure that words fail you. All you can do is hold his face with your hands and keep him over you, body arching into him. 

Then he’s nibbling your lips. Then his hand is reaching down to your thigh. 

‘Leg, leg around me, baby, get a - fuck - new angle…’ 

You immediately obey. His name falls from your lips in a yelp when the new angle makes his dick start to hit that spot inside you over and over again. 

‘Fuck, fuck Col… feels so good, fuck…’ 

Colston grins against you in victory, then grunts again. He’s close. His thrusts growing sloppy and the feeling of his dick twitching inside you give it away. 

He falls quiet again, face scrunching in focus as his high builds inside him. 

Your own climax starts to linger inside you. 

‘Col, baby, I’m… I’m close…’ 

He nods weakly. 

His hand moves down between you and his fingers find your clit, still sensitive from his mouth. The stimulation pulls your orgasm closer, so close that it’s right above you. All it takes is a rub from his thumb and a mutter of ‘come for me, baby, let me hear you’ from him…

And you’re shattering. You come apart on his dick hard and violently. 

And then he’s burying himself deep inside you as he follows you over the edge with a grunt so loud that it seems to make the walls shake around you. The neighbours definitely know what’s just happened, but neither of you can bring yourselves to care. 

Heat ebbs over you in waves. Pleasure rocks through you in shockwaves all over again. Overstimulated and overwhelmed, you gulp in breaths of air like a woman resurfacing from water after too long being submerged. 

Colston flails above you, miles away from the coordinated, calm professional athlete you’re used to seeing on the field, and then he’s flopping. 

Two-fifty pounds of Idaho mountain man collapse down onto you, making you giggle breathlessly. 

‘Col,’ you whisper. ‘Col, I love you but you are too heavy to be on top like this, baby.’ He takes a second to breathe, chuckling softly to himself, and then pulls out so that he can move off you. He rolls over, moves under the covers and lies down next to you.

‘C’mere, then, menace.’ He opens his arms and you instantly shuffle under the covers to tuck yourself into him. 

For the first few moments, there’s quiet between you. 

You’re both sweaty. His hair is sticking down to his forehead from the exertion. Your body is still pulsating with the aftershocks. Both of you are breathing heavy, ragged and uneven, the room heavy with what just happened. 

Colston’s fingers thread through your hair. You trace absent shapes into his bare chest, sweat dried on his skin that makes him feel slightly sticky but still perfect. Still yours.

Then you remember that your feet still have the heels on.

‘Colly, my heels are still on,’ you declare quietly. 

He huffs a laugh out of his chest and props himself up onto his elbow to look down at you with a grin.

‘And I suppose you’re wanting me to do something about that?’ 

You reach up to kiss him. Both of you smile against each other’s lips, and you nod. 

‘Yes, please, Colston. I would love for you to do something about that.’ 

He doesn’t waste a single second. He unfolds himself from the bed and moves around to kneel in front of where your feet are resting on the mattress. When he lifts the comforter up to take the heels off, the cool air makes you wince in surprise, but then you feel his warm fingers against your skin. 

Seconds later, there’s two small thuds against the carpet. Relief instantly fills you at the feeling of your feet being bare. 

Colston presses sweet kisses to your ankles, then moves back to the bed and takes you in his arms once more. 

‘Thank you, my prince,’ you smile into his neck. 

He chuckles softly and tightens his grip on you.

‘Anything for my girl.’ There’s a beat, before he turns his head to look down at you. ‘I’m sorry I haven’t been very present the last week. Just been so tired and drained since the season finished.’

Your hand reaches up to cradle his cheek, thumb brushing the skin. 

‘I know, Colly. You don’t need to explain anything to me. This season was hard, you guys fought so hard. I’m so proud of you.’ 

His jaw tightens with emotion at your raw honesty, then he drops his forehead to yours.

‘I just didn’t want you to think it was you. I never want you to worry that I’m not in this, forever. Because I am. There’s nothing I’m more sure of than you. Football will come and go, but this? This, I want to last.’

You kiss him again, sweet and soft.

‘It will last. Because we want it to. We’ll work on it. Good things don’t come easy, my grandma always said that.’ You fiddle with his hair, with the slight stubble he’s had growing in since the season finished. He looks years older than his twenty-one. He’s matured so much since the start of the season, not just physically but mentally too. You can feel it, you can see it, in everything he does. 

Colston looks at you like you’ve hung the moon. 

‘You’re the best thing in my life, you know that?’ 

You shrug playfully. 

‘I’ve got a pretty good idea.’ 

He chuckles and brings you in close again, holding you tight to his side. 

‘I love you, baby,’ he murmurs into your hair. You shift to rest your head on his shoulder. 

‘I love you too, Colston. My boy since freshman year.’

He hums happily, fingers resuming their rhythmic threading through your hair. 

Your eyes slowly start to close, and he stays awake until your breathing evens out, just like he always does.

Because one thing about Colston? He might be feral as fuck for you, but he will always wait for you to fall asleep first. 

He watches you fall asleep, eyelashes brushing your cheeks in sleep, and realises, not for the first time and definitely not for the last time, that he is the luckiest man in the world. 

The Michigan Days

THE FIRST DAY [coming soon!]

THE FIRST WEEK [coming soon!]

STUDY HALL [coming soon!]

THE FIRST DATE [coming soon!]

THE FIRST KISS [coming soon!]

SO... WHAT ARE WE? [coming soon!]

THOSE THREE WORDS [coming soon!]

NATIONAL CHAMPIONS

Summary: You find Colston in the locker room after Michigan win the National Championship, ending the season fifteen-oh.

DON'T STOP NOW...

Summary: The fallout of you and Colston finding each other in the locker room after Michigan win the National Championship. Smut.

DRAFT DAY [coming soon!]

RIGHT HERE, RIGHT NOW [coming soon!]

MOVING DAY [coming soon!]

The Bears Days

LET ME LOVE YOU [coming soon!]

TRAINING CAMP [coming soon!]

MY SWEETHEART [coming soon!]

HOME TO YOU

Summary: You get to go home to your boyfriend after a chilly and stressful day in the Windy City. Fluff.

TRADITION

Summary: Colston scores a touchdown and you celebrate with a tradition that dates back to your college days. Smut.

BEST DISTRACTION EVER

Summary: Colston hasn't paid his girl enough attention, so you take things into your own hands. Smut.

YOU SCARED ME

Summary: Colston sustains a concussion in the final game of his rookie season, with you watching from the suite. Hurt-comfort, fluff.

MY PROMISE TO YOU

Summary: The night he was drafted, Colston made a promise to you that you would never fall second to football. In typical rookie fashion, however, even the best-laid plans go awry. Angst, comfort, fluff.

JOY OF MY LIFE

Summary: You and colston slow dance in the kitchen to Joy Of My Life by Chris Stapleton.

PREGNANCY SCARE

Summary: Your period is late, causing a very real pregnancy scare. Comfort, fluff.

VOICE NOTES

Summary: A peek into the voice notes that you and Colston send to each other day-to-day. Fluff.

HEADCANONS

Summary: A look into what Colston is like as a boyfriend. Fluff, mild smut.

TOILET PAPER GATE

Summary: A blurb about sweetheart's texts to Colston about the toilet paper debacle at the Super Bowl event.

THE HEELS STAY ON

Summary: Post season has meant that Colston's sex drive has been less than usual. You come home from a night out with the girls and the last week comes to a head. Smut.

EVERYTHING I'VE EVER WANTED

Summary: Sweetheart tells Colston just how much she loves him and how much he means to her. Fluff.

SEVENTY TWO HOURS

Summary: Colston is going away for a road game and Sweetheart gets worried. Hurt-comfort, fluff.

Colston is lying on his back, head propped up on the cushions and turned towards the screen. You’re lying on your stomach, spread across his chest in a way that only happens when someone is truly comfortable with their partner. Your head rests right above his heart so you can hear the steady rhythm of his heart beneath you.

Thum-dum. Thum-dum. Thum-dum.

It’s the sound that’s lulled you to sleep for the last four years. It’s helped you through sleepless nights at Michigan. Anxiety-fuelled all nighters before finals, where Colston would sit up with you in your dorm and patiently quiz you with your flashcards. That night in April last year before the draft where neither of you could sleep. All you had was his heartbeat keeping you grounded.

Nothing will ever knock you out the way hearing his heart does. 

A constant reminder of him. His warmth. That he’s real. That he’s yours. 

He always will be. 

You shift slightly, shuffling up his body like a little caterpillar so your head is tucked in the gap between his neck and shoulder. Broad. Warm. Home. 

Colston smiles and absentmindedly kisses the top of your head, then your forehead. It’s automatic, like a reflex - whenever you move when you’re tangled up like this, he kisses whatever spot he can find. Whatever spot that’s closest to his lips. 

‘Love you, baby,’ he murmurs quietly to you. 

Your arms are wrapped around his torso. He smiles to himself when you give him a squeeze.

‘Love you too, Col.’ 

It’s less said, more mumbled into his chest, words muffled by his hoodie. The temperature outside barely nudges freezing. It doesn’t touch you, though, not when you’re curled into Colston, your personal walking furnace. He often jokes during the winter that Idaho prepared him well for Chicago winters. You don’t doubt it for a second. During the winter, you’ve spent more nights attached to him like a koala than anywhere else, trying to steal every last ounce of warmth from him that you can. 

Rain starts to tap at the windows around you. Wind howls outside, so hard that the house seems to tremble with the force. 

You’re safe, though. Colston would rather die before letting anything get to you, especially when you’re at peace like this. 

Because as far as Colston is concerned, his entire world is wrapped up in his arms. The most important person in his life is lying on his chest while his fingers thread gently through your hair. He’s never been more sure that this? This is what life is all about. 

Your thoughts are in a similar vein. Nowhere feels as safe, as right as being tucked up in his broad arms, resting on his wide chest. You breathe him in, filling your lungs with his scent, something like pine, vanilla and clean laundry that reminds you of home. 

It hits you, right then and there, square in your chest, that the way he’s holding you, flush to his chest with his arms around you, as if you’re the most important gift he’s ever been given… 

Home. 

You realise that it’s not a place. It’s a person. 

You’re so overwhelmed that you feel the need to look at him. You need to take in his face to remind yourself that he’s real and he’s here. 

So you do. 

You tilt your head up and just look at him. The way his nose curves into his eyebrows. The dusting of stubble across his strong, angular jaw. His impossibly soft lips that quirk into a smile when he feels you looking at him. That’s the thing with Colston. He can always tell when your gaze falls upon him. It’s instinctive. Primal. Whether it’s like this, curled up against each other, or across a room at a party, he knows when you’re looking at him. 

Slowly, gently, he turns his neck to face you. 

‘What’re you lookin’ at, my girl?’ he asks softly. The Idaho accent is thick, vowels curling into consonants like syrup. It always happens when he’s tired like this, when he feels safe enough to let the country boy out of him. The guard is down. No tight end bravado. No football toughness. Only sweet, humble Colston, as genuine as he comes. 

You open your mouth, then close it, suddenly shy. Then shrug with a small smile. 

‘Just you.’ You reach up to fiddle with the chain around his neck. Even in the low light of the room, it sparkles as you play with it. It catches the blue light from the screen and casts flecks of light across the ceiling above you. 

Colston smiles when you giggle softly, almost to yourself, as you move the chain and see the lights move across the ceiling. There’s something so endearingly childlike in your smile, in the brightness of your eyes, that makes something in his chest crack open. 

When you look back at him, you lean in to kiss him. No heat. It’s not going anywhere. It’s just a kiss. One of his hands slides up your back and rests at the back of your head, keeping your head exactly where he wants you as he kisses you back. You hum happily into the kiss.

You pull back first. Colston opens his eyes and rests his forehead against yours.

That’s when the admission comes to your head. It’s so random that you worry it’s the wrong moment, but it’s one of those things that can never really happen during the right moment. 

‘Can I tell you something?’ you whisper.

He nods. No hesitation.

‘Always, my girl, you know that.’

A flush dusts your cheeks in a faint pink that’s visible even in the low light. 

‘You’re, um…’ The words falter in your mouth. Colston’s grip on you tightens, just slightly, wordlessly reassuring you that he’s here and you can tell him. ‘You’re just… everything I’ve ever wanted. In a man. In my best friend. In a partner.’

His eyebrows furrow and his head tilts just slightly to the side, not necessarily in confusion, just curious. Intrigued. Heart already filling up with love. 

‘You know, I used to think about what my future boyfriend would look like. How he would act. How he would treat me. I always had hope that I found find a good guy who treated me well. But then I met you, that first day at college, orientation day, on the quad at Michigan, and you just walked right up to me and said you had no idea where anything was.’ 

The two of you chuckle at the memory. It’s a day you think back to all the time. A day that, for so many, was big for one reason - the first day of college. For you, though, it was colossal. It wasn’t just your first day at college. It was the day you met the love of your life. Not many people can say that. 

‘Since then, we’ve just… we’ve been through so much and life has changed and neither of us are the same people we were back then, but still, you’ve never made me doubt you. Never made me doubt us. You’re kind, Colston. You’re good. You treat everyone as if they’re friends you’ve known all your life. You haven’t got a single bad bone in your over-sized body…’ 

‘Hey! That over-sized body earned me a sixteen million dollar signing bonus!’

You kiss him again, just to shut him up, but both of you are giggling into the kiss. 

‘Anyway,’ you continue pointedly, smirking down at him. He chuckles up at you, but quietens down so you can finish. ‘You’re patient with me. You laugh with me, not at me. You make me feel safe in ways nobody else can. You can sit here with me in silence or we can sit here together for hours and talk about everything. You protect me without being possessive. You’re gentle, loyal, and so funny that you make my ribs hurt every day. You never make me feel like I’ve settled. You constantly strive to be better, not just on the field but as my partner, as my guy. We’re a team.’

You’re crying now. His own chest is tight, eyes burning suspiciously bright as he listens to you. His hand has slid under your Bears hoodie and is moving up and down your back in soothing circles, skin warm against yours and grounding you in the moment. 

‘I used to think…’ you choke out a wet laugh through tears. ‘I used to think men like you were a myth. Just something to wish upon a star for. But then along came you and you prove to me, day in and day out, that good men are out there. I know that because the best of men is lying on this couch with me tonight. And somehow, out of all the people at Michigan, out of all the people in the world, I’m the one that he chose. I’m the one who gets to do life with you, Colly, and I’ll never get over it.’ 

That’s the part that breaks him. Hearing you say that you’ll never get over the fact that you’re the one that he chose, because to him? There was no second guessing. There never has been. Not since the second he laid eyes on you on the quad that fall day in Ann Arbor. Not for a second since has he ever had a doubt that you’re the one for him. 

Colston’s chest heaves with emotion. He knows how much you love him, of course he does. You show him every day, but hearing it like that, raw, real and vulnerable, the way you’ve just poured your heart out to him right there on the couch in front of a true crime documentary… it splits his heart open in ways he hasn’t experienced before. 

He reaches up and gently cradles your face with one hand. 

‘You got any idea how much I love you, sweetheart?’ he says gruffly, voice hoarse with emotion. His eyes are just as bright and glassy as yours are. 

One thing about Colston is he’s never been shy about his emotions, especially not with you. All it takes is you looking at him with that look in your eye - soft, happy, so undeniably his - and he’s gone. Wrecked. A tear leaks out from his eye, which you reach up to brush away with your thumb, touch as gentle as his is on your cheek. 

‘You are.’ It’s little more than a huff of an exhale from his chest, then he laughs, trying to get the words out in a way that doesn’t reduce him to a weepy mess on the couch. ‘You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Used to think I’d have to wait years to find the love of my life, and then I came up to you that first day, asked you if you knew where the cafeteria was and that was it. I’ve been gone for you ever since.’ 

‘Colly,’ you whisper. His hold on your jaw tightens as he brings you in for another kiss. This kiss is somehow even softer. His cheeks are damp, but so are yours. Neither of you care. 

‘Some days I feel I don’t deserve you,’ he mumbles, almost hesitant about saying it.

‘You do,’ you say immediately. No hesitation. 

Colston smiles. It’s watery and his lips are trembling, but it’s that same smile you would recognise anywhere. The smile that brings you home. The smile that you look for in every crowd, every game, every country. 

‘I’m going to spend the rest of my life bein’ the man you deserve. That’s a promise. Because you’re everything I’ve ever wanted, and I don’t take that lightly. I look at you, and I see the love of my life. My girl since day one, literally since day one. We’re growin’ up together, we’ll make mistakes, we’ll mess up, hell we already have messed up, but what’s important is how we move forward. Together. As a team. And I love football. I love the Bears. But this team, you and me? That’s the most important team of my life.’ 

He takes hold of your face with both hands, now, both thumbs brushing your cheeks. His eyes are so full of love that you all but melt into him. 

‘I love you, Colston,’ you murmur. 

He kisses you again.

‘I love you, too, sweetheart. More than anything.’ 

You rest your head back on his chest, lips brushing kisses into his shirt. His hands find their way back to your hair, fingers threading through the strands and applying the lightest pressure to your scalp. A happy sigh breathes out of your chest. He chuckles softly. The kiss he presses to the top of your head is gentle but undeniable. 

‘Everything I’ve ever wanted, right here on this couch. Ain’t I lucky.’ 

He wraps you up in his arms, strong biceps folding around you, warm and safe under the blanket he throws over you. 

In that moment, Colston can think of a few things he’s gotten wrong in his life. A roping competition during his rodeo days. A throw during a game at Michigan. An interception during the Packers game that just didn’t get timed right.

But he’s never been more sure that you’re not on that list of things he’s gotten wrong. You’re first on the list of things he got right. He’s been sure of that since the second he first approached you that fateful day at Michigan. 

It led him here, to the couch in his home in Chicago, with you falling asleep, safe in his arms. 

The best thing he’ll ever have. 

Nobody misses the way he’s looking at you. You’re talking to his teammates, literally just talking, and yet Colston’s stood next to you, looking down at you with an expression of love so tender that it would melt even the steeliest of hearts. 

The more the party drags on, though, the more his look changes. It morphs from a look of love into a look of need. A look of lust. His eyes change from warm honey to dark determination. His face becomes lined with determination and his shoulders have hunched with having to physically restrain himself from you. 

Colston prides himself on his patience, but when it comes to you? All bets are off. 

And the best part is, he knows you’re not faring any better. If anything, you’re worse. He dares to look at you with that look of I need you so badly, it hurts, whenever you look up at him, and then there’s the eye-black situation… 

His eye-black has been a secret obsession of yours since the very first time he wore it, and it sends you into a feral, dripping mess every single time. He knows what it does to you and that’s exactly why he loves wearing it. 

Some of it is still smudged on your face from when he kissed you. You’ve tried several times to wipe it away, self-conscious of the fact that everyone - including his parents - absolutely knows how it got there, but every time, Colston’s raised a hand to yours and gently swiped it away.

‘Remind everyone who you’re going home with tonight,’ he whispered into your ear after the second time you tried.

Heat blooms low in your stomach as you watch him move around the room, arm firmly tucked around your waist so you have no choice but to follow him. Your eyes never leave his enormous form. People can definitely see the heat in your eyes. Neither of you care. 

A pause in the party allows him to pull you close to him. His strong arms hold you tight to his chest around your waist while you tilt up to your tiptoes so your arms can loop around his neck. 

‘You’re makin’ it so hard for me to behave, baby girl,’ he croaks into your ear so that nobody else can hear. He disguises the words by planting kisses to your temple.

‘You just won a national championship, Colly,’ you singsong back to him, just as quietly. ‘Don’t think anyone expects you to behave.’ 

He exhales heavily. 

‘Need you so bad, it’s not even funny.’ It’s little more than a whine into your ear, as if he’s not getting his own way. 

‘Need to wait, Colston. Coach Harbaugh wouldn’t take kindly to you railing me up the wall in this locker room in front of everyone.’ 

Colston glares at you, but he knows you’re right.

The minutes drag by. Time passes so slowly, it seems to go backwards at one point. 

Your Loveland Michigan jersey burns your skin as your body temperature rises. Colston is next to you, talking to JJ and AJ, but all he can focus on is your warmth next to him. He can feel you edging closer to him, can feel the warmth radiating from your body. 

His hand moves under your shirt and up your back, under your bra strap to fiddle with the clasp. You have to physically close your eyes to stop yourself from saying something. He doesn’t break conversation with the boys, but he’s still smirking.

At last, someone yells something about going outside to the bus. 

‘Party downtown, y’all! Everyone pull up!’ 

The crowd moves as one enormous unit towards the doors. There are shouts and whoops of excitement for the night to continue. 

JJ asks Colston if the two of you are coming. For a moment, your heart pounds when Colston says yes, worrying that you’ll have to go another two hours, at least, before you can go home, but then he says, ‘I’m gonna take another shower, we’ll Uber over’, and the heat in your stomach returns with a ferocity that almost knocks the wind clean out of you. 

The quarterback looks between the two of you with a smirk, but mercifully doesn’t say anything. 

Colston busies himself at his locker, pretending to look for a change of clothes, while the sound of everyone’s voices grows fainter the further away from the locker room they get. 

Finally, the last of the hollering fades out, and then it’s just the two of you. 

Colston immediately locks the door from the inside.

‘So nobody comes in while I’m showerin’,’ he smirks to you as he crosses the room back to you.

‘Oh yes, very important to not let anyone disturb you while you’re showering.’ You grin up at him when he looms over you again. The minute he’s back in your space, he’s holding your face and kissing you hard, humming against your lips. One of his hands moves to grip your waist to keep you close to him, while the other cradles the back of your head. 

He breaks apart and rests his forehead against yours, eyes fluttering shut. Your eyes close as you soak in the moment, soak in the warmth from his body that’s still simmering with adrenaline and need. Both of you are breathing hard.

‘Thank you for being here,’ he murmurs after a few moments. 

You don’t even need to think about the response.

‘You know there’s nowhere else I would rather be.’ 

Colston pulls back just enough to look at you. He takes in your eyes that are still bright with emotion from the win, rakes over your cheeks, flushed from the cold of the field, and the way the eye black is still smeared under your eyes. His eye black. Possessiveness clouds his eyes.

‘There’s my girl,’ he mutters as his lips trail kisses from your temple down to your cheeks. ‘Don’t have long, baby.’ 

You shrug playfully.

‘A quickie in the locker room, who said romance is dead.’ 

He laughs heartily.

‘I’ll take you home and take my time with you there after we finish, how ‘bout that, darlin’,’ he whispers into your neck. You whine and tilt your head back as you feel his teeth nip the skin.

‘Shut up and kiss me, Loveland.’ 

He obliges immediately, mouth hitting yours in an urgent kiss that makes heat pool low in your abdomen. You’re wet already, you can feel the slick through your jeans. 

A gasp falls from your mouth as he grips your waist tighter with both hands, pulling you into his chest and lifting you in one effortless motion. Your legs wrap instinctively around his waist while your arms curl around his neck to support you against him. He takes a few steps forward until you feel your back gently hitting the wall. 

Looking around, you see that he’s got you pinned up against the wooden paneling by his locker. The screen above the gap in the wall is emblazoned with LOVELAND 18 in bold yellow lettering. 

You look back at him with a smirk.

‘Of course.’ 

He returns your smirk and kisses you, teeth nibbling at your bottom lip. Without even realising you’re doing it, you moan into his mouth and hold the back of his head with your hand. 

‘Need you, baby, need you now,’ he growls. 

‘Take me, then, Colston.’ 

He doesn’t waste another second. His fingers shake as he fumbles with the fastening of your jeans, and he grumbles to himself about ‘fuckin’ buttons’, making you giggle into his mouth. Finally, he lowers your jeans to your ankles and kicks them to the floor. His arms hold you steady at the wall where your back is still pinned to. He’s huge, but up close? He towers over you. Huge shoulders blocking everything else in your peripheral vision. 

He’s hard as a rock underneath his game shorts. You can see the bulge, it’s practically staring up at you through the yellow of his shorts. The thought of him, thick and delicious, makes your mouth water. His eyes follow yours. He knows what you want, you can tell from the filthy smirk that cracks his face open. 

‘See somethin’ you want, princess?’ he grunts. 

You don’t have the words. All you can manage is a whimper and a nod, making him chuckle. 

He doesn’t waste another breath. The second he kicks his shorts down and lets them pool at his ankles, his dick slaps up to his lower abdomen. It’s already leaking with pre-cum, and when it bumps against your upper thigh when you wrap your legs around him again, your mind loses track of thought completely. 

Colston looks at you with an eyebrow quirked, silently asking for consent like always. You give him a nod, and the shit-eating grin you have on your face makes his chest nearly split open with love. 

But then he’s pushing into you. He grunts with the effort, the sound reverberating through your ear where his chin is resting on your shoulder to keep him stabilised. 

‘Shit, Col,’ you gasp, more breath than sound, burying your face into his neck.

‘I know, baby, I know, I’m not gonna last long,’ he laughs just as breathlessly. His huge body is still simmering with the adrenaline of the win, but now it’s got need and raw desire mixing in with it. 

Urgency reminds Colston that you realistically don’t have long. Five minutes, maybe ten at a push. His hips start moving immediately, snapping up and forward in a rhythm so fast, so strong, that it makes your entire body thrum with pleasure. Each of you are completely undone, trying so hard to keep quiet. You actually have to bite down on the skin on his shoulder to keep your moans under control. 

‘Keep bitin’ me like that and we won’t go to the party at all, sweetheart,’ he groans. His face is still buried into your neck, his voice barely more than a muffled suggestion against your skin. 

You can’t answer, as much as you’d like to snark him back. The rhythm of his thrusts driving into you - deep, hard - has you seeing stars. Your head rocks to lean back against the hardwood paneling behind you and a moan punches out of your chest when he hits that spot, the spot only he knows how to reach. 

The moan bounces off the walls and reverberates through the air. Anyone walking past the locker room will know what’s happening, there’s no doubt about that. 

Colston’s hand comes up from your thigh to your mouth, gently covering it and clamping down. Not hard enough that you can’t breathe, just enough that it muffles some of the sound. 

‘Try be quiet, baby,’ he mutters into your ear through the rhythm of his thrusts. ‘Can’t let the coaching staff know I’ve got you railed up against the wall.’ The obscenity of the words makes him chuckle softly before he can help himself, because it hits him, then, that he’s really got you backed against the wall of his college locker room, your legs around his waist and coming apart on his dick. 

He shakes his head, then turns his head back to you so he can kiss you again. Your mouths barely brush, barely make contact, it’s more a way of distracting himself so he doesn’t follow your moan with a grunt that’s even louder. 

His dick pumps effortlessly in and out of you. He pulls back just enough that the head nearly pops out of you, then drives it back into you with such power that it makes your head spin. One of Colston’s favourite sights is seeing your eyes roll to the back of your head. He grunts softly with pleasure when he sees it happen now, alongside your mouth falling open to make an ‘O’ shape as your high bears down upon you.  

The thrusts become sloppy against you. You can feel it, but your high still feels miles away. 

‘Hey,’ you mumble into his mouth. ‘Don’t stop now, Colston, keep going.’ 

He whimpers against you. His eyes scrunch in concentration as he tries to keep his own climax at bay; he always makes sure you finish first, no matter what. 

His hips continue to become sluggish, so he resorts to sliding a hand down to your clit. When his fingers find you, you let out a yelp that can most definitely be heard from outside the room. Neither of you can bring yourselves to care anymore. You’re too engrossed in the feeling of being wrapped into each other like this. The sensation of his fingers swirling your clit around and applying just the perfect amount of pressure makes your high come racing towards you.

Colston smiles to himself when your body arches into him at the feeling of the added stimulation. You cling to him tighter. Your arms instinctively pull him closer. 

The feeling in your stomach builds. The coil tightens. 

‘Fuck, Colly, ‘m gonna…’ you gasp out, tears leaking from your eyes as the stimulation becomes too much, too overwhelming. 

Colston kisses you again. 

‘Come with me, sweetheart, I’m right here, right here with you…’ 

With one last sweep from his thumb and one last drive from his hips, your walls clench around him as you come apart on his dick. He squeezes inside you and seconds later, with a grunt from him, you feel his warmth shooting into you. A cry jumps out of your chest. It sounds suspiciously like his name, but it’s so breathless that neither of you can tell for sure.

Your arms are still wrapped around his neck to brace yourself against him. He hisses when he feels your fingers digging into the skin at the nape of his neck, aftershocks of your orgasm ripping through you and making you twitch against him. He’s still buried inside you, but you can feel him softening already. 

The room is quiet for a few moments. All that can be heard is the sounds of your breathing mingling together, trying to come down to earth. Colston heaves out a breath. Your body starts to tremble, and he looks up at you. 

‘You okay, baby?’ he asks quietly. 

You’re about to respond and assure him that you’re okay, just completely fucked out, when he pulls out of you, causing you to hiss at the change in pressure and loss of feeling. He apologises, quietly and honestly, and kisses your temple. 

Then he helps you back down to your feet, hands firm on your waist to keep you steady. 

‘Just breathe, baby, you’re good,’ he murmurs into your ear. Your head tilts forward to rest on his chest, so close that you can hear his heart through the navy jersey he’s still wearing. His heart thrums rapidly under your ear. Still, though, he focuses only on you and making sure that you’re okay. ‘I’ve got you. I’ve got you.’ He repeats it like a prayer, muttered into your ear. 

The atmosphere in the room is thick with the scent of sex. Tension that was present at the start slowly starts to seep away, the result of it finally being addressed. 

You lean back so you can tilt your head up to look at him. When Colston looks down at you, he takes in your eyes, sleepy and fucked out, and your lips, swollen from kissing him, slightly bruised at the corners, no doubt a result of him nipping at them with his teeth. His arms fold you into him and hold you close to him. Obsession and adoration drips from every pore as he gazes down at you with those soft eyes that only you receive. 

‘You okay?’ he asks again. 

Your legs are shaking. Your groin is already starting to ache. You’re slightly concerned that someone heard you.

But you’re perfect. You’ve never been better. 

‘Yeah, Col,’ you whisper up at him. ‘Never been happier.’ 

His finger tilts your chin up so he can kiss you properly. This kiss is soft, steady and gentle, miles away from the way he kisses you during sex. He smiles against your lips, making you smile in return. He chuckles, buries his face into your shoulder and exhales deeply, as if his body is finally releasing the adrenaline and tension from the day. 

‘Damn, we just had sex in my locker room.’ His huge shoulders shake with laughter when the realisation hits him. The room fills with the sound of your giggles, partly at the realisation of what you just did but more at the way his laughter is just so infectious. If you could inject it to have as an IV when you’re feeling low, you would.

‘And all because neither of us could keep our hands to ourselves until we got home.’ 

He releases you just for a moment to pick up your jeans and his shorts, and the two of you put them back on, still giggling. Once you’re back to being fully clothed, he brings you back in for a cuddle, one hand roaming to slide under your hoodie again. Your back is sweaty and your entire body is starting to ache, but you don’t care. 

Colston turns to you, winks and smirks.

‘So what do you say we go to this party for an hour, then go back to the dorm and finish what we started?’ 

You gasp in mock-horror and shove his chest, playfully. 

‘You are such a horn dog, Colston Loveland!’ 

He shrugs, nonchalant and unbothered, as usual. 

‘Only because I’m dating the hottest girl in Michigan.’ 

This time, you blush furiously and tilt up onto your tiptoes to kiss him again. 

‘Flattery gets you everywhere, though.’ 

He grins in victory, then softens when he thinks about the words you said to him a few moments ago. 

‘Have you… have you really not been happier? Like, ever?’ He says it so quietly, so shyly, that your heart nearly splits open. You reach up to hold his face with your hands. He leans into your touch, like always, and kisses your palm. 

‘I have genuinely never been happier, Colston. You make me the happiest girl in the world. You really do.’ 

His eyes become suspiciously glassy, but he grins all the same.

‘Especially when I pin you against the wall and rail you?’ 

You swat his chest again, both of you laughing heartily. 

‘Yes, Colston, especially then.’ He leans down to kiss you, grinning into your mouth. ‘Come on, national champ, let’s get to this party before the team send out a search and rescue team.’ 

Colston grabs your hand and leads you out of the locker room. The few staffers that are left in the building glance at you as you make your way out to the exit with knowing smiles, but nobody says anything. 

After all, Colston is a national champion now. For at least the rest of tonight, he can do what he wants. 

Although there’s not much else that he wants in this life, especially not with you by his side.