House on Fire
Summary: You and Elisa are friends with benefits.
Author note: Not going to lie these are all old drafts I’ve had sitting here for ages and just needed to clear them out. I am not as engaged in the fandom as I once was and this will likely be the last thing I post for Elisa. Plus she’s getting a lot of hate right now so please don’t take this as me supporting her. I’m just trying to clear drafts, don't shoot yall. If anyones interested in other things I write I could post my ao3 account where it’s mostly Harry Potter related content. Otherwise this is goodbye, love you guys.
Word count: 4.2k
Tw: Sexual content and lowkey toxic relationships. Extreme possessiveness. Swearing.
Minors stay out please!
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You’d tried hard not to fall for her. You really did. But when you woke up in her bed, under her arm, nose tucked into her neck one too many times it felt impossible not to love her. So when she sensed you getting too close- too comfortable she understandably distanced herself from you. It hurts, you won’t lie. Going from good friends who occasionally slept together 2-3 times a week to people who barely interacted on or off the field.
It happened so naturally, you’d been laying in bed together basking in a day free of training or games when you’d laughed and looked over to find her staring at you with an odd look on her face. Your breath had hitched in your chest when Elisas eyes dropped from yours to your smile. Before you’d had a chance to process the moment, the next thought in your mind had been a neon blinking sign.
I love her. How could I have missed this?
Fingers slotted perfectly between yours and her jokes rolled off your tongue as she finished thinking them. How could you have possibly ever thought you’d only be friends? You two were inevitable.
From there it had snowballed into something uncontrollable. She’d call you an hour after you got home from training to come over. Her touches lingered longer when she wrapped an arm around your shoulders. Unnecessarily placing a hand on your waist when passing by. Grabbing your hips to turn you to her whenever possible. Putting her head on your shoulder. All of a sudden she was taking up all the air in the room by constantly being in your space. You loved every minute of it.
When it all came crashing down around you, the reality check you had needed, you felt helpless to stop it. Of course there was nothing you could do to stop her storm from coming in, up-ending your whole life and then leaving. Privately, you thought to yourself as you lay in bed alone at night you’d let her do it again. Just to have and pretend for another moment she was yours. She chose you over anyone else and let’s be honest she could have anyone else. But she’d chosen you and your warmth and your bed and wasn’t that enough?
One summer when you were younger you had spent days working and nights training to be a footballer. You were exhausted day in and day out, barely sleeping, eating, having the time to bathe was a luxury. Loving Elisa felt a bit like that summer. You were never still. Even though you were exhausted you were still restless, never satisfied, never full.
You aren’t quite sure when the death of what had never had a chance to bloom started. Maybe it was dying from the start. A tragedy always ends in death. She wasn’t trying to rub it in your face… you don’t think. It just happened that when you guys all went together as a team she was flirtatious with other girls. It chipped a little at your heart but she still came home with you each time, dress bunched up around your waist while she fucked you with her tongue or her fingers.
You reasoned with yourself that it was basically a relationship. You two simply didn’t feel the need to put a label on it. You spent time together outside of training going to restaurants and doing activities. You spent all day together at training. You came home together most of the time. Except when you didn’t. When you wouldn’t come home together, you home, your flat, never hers, you wouldn’t hear from her all night. You tried to not let it get to you. You grit your teeth and pressed your fingernails to your palms and chewed your lips until they were chapped. You almost convinced yourself she was just with friends or family and then the next day she would come back with a hickey or a scratch you hadn’t put on her body. After that it would be tense for a couple days. Until it healed, until all the marks of others were gone from her body.
It was fine. You were fine. You just weren’t enough to satisfy her.
It all culminated after an argument. You had been trying so hard but she came home smelling like champagne and a perfume you didn’t wear. The last straw had been when she fucked you smelling like someone else. You lay there arms wrapped around her shoulders and legs around her hips with your heart in your throat and tears threatening to spill from your eyes. Her face was busy sucking dark red marks into your neck and chest, claiming you as hers.
Elisa was possessive and jealous when it came to you. She hated when anyone else made you laugh or touched you in any way besides a celebratory cheer. Most of all she hated going out with you. You turned heads, people always trying to catch your eye. She felt so special when she had you under her. That starstruck look in your eyes as you gazed up at her. You could have anyone and you let only her fuck you, claim you, make you hers. She knew you. She knows the chapstick in your nightstand tastes like cherries and the one in your purse tastes like mint. She knows you’re particular about the way you clean. She knows you like to wear rings but don’t because of your profession. She knows exactly what brands you buy for shampoo, conditioner, lotion, body wash and that you get the same ones every time.
She’s scared to say the least. She’s never known this much about anyone. She doesn’t care this much about anyone else. So when her eyes caught on a beautiful ring while she was out and her first thought was you, she tried to convince herself it wasn’t so serious. Like she wasn’t a little, definitely, in love with you. She hates when she goes on dates and goes back to her flat and wakes up alone without you pressed up against her. She hates it and revels in it when the girls she fucks leave marks on her and she can see your eyes catch on them. She knows you’re wondering if she says the same things to them as she does to you. She can’t let you in. It’s not in her nature.
Once she had made you cum, she rolled off of you and you quickly got up to go to the bathroom. You didn’t want to cry in front of her. You didn’t want her to leave. You could feel your heart squeezing painfully. You were so angry and tired of it all. But you loved her company even without the added benefit of coitus. You had made up your mind. You weren’t going to lose her as a friend. You’d rather sacrifice the best sex of your life then lose her.
You came out of the bathroom and stopped in the doorway. Her eyes drag lazily from her phone to you, a small genuine smile on her face. Each time you think this is it. She’ll finally pick me, just me after this. She only smiles at me like this. But you remained firm in your decision. There's a voice in your head - heart that is screaming not to do this. To just be content with what you’ve got.
“I don’t think we should do this anymore.” You say slowly. Looking down at the floor scattered with your clothing. You look up to meet her eyes.
Elisas eyes widened momentarily in shock? Confusion? Then narrowed suddenly and her expression darkened. Her eyes raking up and down your body, was she looking for something?
“Why?” She demanded.
Was someone else taking her place above you? She couldn’t see any marks on your body she hadn’t left herself. She usually left them in the same spots. To know if you were seeing anyone else. The hickeys on your inner thighs, the bruises from her grip on your hip bones, the teeth marks in your shoulders. You were covered in her. She felt a hot rush of primal possessiveness at this thought. Why were you done with her? Hadn’t she fucked you well enough? Had she not given you enough attention? Maybe she had gotten your mood wrong this evening, although she doubted it, she always knew when you wanted it a certain way.
“Because-“ You falter, the beast inside you is begging to be let out, ramming against the inside of your ribcage. You’ll fuck this whole thing up if you say one more word. If she knows you love her, she’ll really leave.
Oh it’s already fucked up something inside of you cries, you fucked it up the second you didnt push her away.
You know, You know, You know but you’re pleading with this monster (your head) to let you have Elisa for a little longer before she slips away from you entirely. She doesn’t want this. Doesn’t want to come home to you. You could be sick.
You’ve never felt so in sync with a person, every foot fall matches, you know her jokes before she does, she knows when you aren't feeling well with one look. Worse, she's all the best parts of you. You aren’t exaggerating when you say she’s your better half. Sure she fucked up your whole relationship because she’s got issues but she’s good. There’s some golden string inside of her that shines through the cracks. You’ve made a homeland out of her. She’s where you’re from. There’s no you, right here right now, without her.
There’s no way to describe the way she makes you feel other than you’re burning from the inside out. The flames are licking up your calves, spreading through your fingertips, her energy climbs up your body leaving you with a warm sensation until you’re burned. You don’t mind, you always loved the sun.
How can one person feel like coming home and being lit on fire, it’s contradictory and yet it works.
She’s a house on fire. A home on fire.
Your home is on fire, you wouldn’t have it any other way. But you can’t live while you die.
Her energy, her smoke is lining your lungs. Ironically you have no urge to cough, only to suck her fumes down deeper into your body. Drag me down with you, I love you, I love you, I love you. Your fists are clenched to maintain some semblance of dignity, you have to remain strong. You deserve someone who doesn’t fuck you while smelling like someone else’s perfume. Your eyes are watering again at the thought. This is a new low.
“Because I want you.” There it’s out there. The beast is in the room. She knows now. She can choose to take it or leave it.
“You know I only do casual, baby,” She says. Like that will somehow change your decision.
“Yeah exactly, so this,” you gesture to the space between you and her. “has got to end. I don’t want to lose you as a friend. Sex is making us complicated. I’m sorry.”
Elisa hadn’t taken that well. She had all but stomped out with a thunderous expression on her face the whole time. She practically ignored you for the next three weeks. Going cold turkey from her was lonely, it felt like a real break up. But it was for the best…right?
It hadn’t proved to be much of a problem- until the latest team hang out where teammates are allowed to bring significant others for the sake of bonding. When Elisa gets there she has a preppy blonde with her, who looks so sweet she’d melt in water. She makes her way around the table introducing herself to everyone. Jennifer? Oh god, you should just get up and leave. As you introduce yourself she doesn’t balk or change her pleasant expression. So she doesn’t know about your history, unsurprising but ouch. The knife wound is still fresh. Right as you’re about to fake an illness to get out of having to watch Elisa with her arm around someone else all night, someone catches your eye. The waiter comes around and takes drink orders, once his eyes reach you his smile widens and his voice drops a bit. You can totally play into this and flirt. Two can play at this game.
When he comes back he flirts with you some more and your short dress lets his eyes roam your legs. He likes what he sees as if it’s any indication since he continually comes back to check on you and your group. You can feel eyes burning into the back of your head whenever you’re talking to him. You smile and giggle and kick your legs out a bit so he can see what you’ve got to offer. Elisas loss really, you think, I’m a total catch.
Just then you hear Jane's voice cut through the conversation you hadn’t been paying attention to about current love lives.
“So Y/N what's going on in your love life? That waiter seems pretty interested in you huh?”
Nobody on the team was explicitly told what was happening between you and Elisa but none of them are stupid. Especially since things have been so cold between you two at training the past few weeks. You hear several intakes of breath at once. Carefully avoiding eye contact with Elisa, you shoot Janine a fake smile.
“All quiet on the western front right now, and yeah the waiters IS cute.”
Elisas jaw ticks.
Jackie jumps in with what she thinks must be helpful “Y/N has never really been one to shop around much, she’s definitely a homebody.” You know she’s only trying to help and what she means is you like committed relationships but could she have made you sound any lamer?
“Oh that’s alright, so was I before I met Elisa here a couple months ago, but she’s so much fun! You’ll find your person, don't worry.” June says
A few months ago? You’re fucking livid. If you squeeze your glass any harder you’ll shatter it. Fuck this. You’re going to hit on that waiter and maybe he’ll fuck you in the bathroom. Maybe then you’ll be able to get the feeling of Elisas eyes and hands off of you. Three weeks of scrubbing your skin raw and she’s still there.
You down your drink and put it down on the table a little harder than necessary. You were going to do it, Elisa and Julia be damned. You stood up from the table and ran your hands over your short dress. You knew you had nice legs, why not use them to your advantage?
“If that dress was any shorter, we’d be able to see your underwear.” Jackie teased.
You grin back at her, and lean in conspiratorially
“It’s really cute you think I’m wearing underwear.” You say in a mock whisper.
As you turn away to head for the bar you see Jackie choke on the sip she has taken. Laughing to yourself you head for the bar in search of the cute waiter.
You don’t really want to do this, the voice in your head says. You’re doing all this to make her jealous. You don’t even really like casual sex honestly, there’s no intimacy to it. That’s part of what you’d liked best about being under Elisa, she knew you inside and out. She knew you liked to shower and cuddle after sex. She knew you had a sweet tooth but always preferred something savoury after an intense round. She knew which places to touch to make you lose your breath, how to draw it out- NO. You were not thinking about it anymore. She was dead to you now. Her and Jessica could go ride off into the sunset somewhere as far as you were concerned. You’d be too busy bagging people left and right, being super successful.
You stop just short of the cute waiter and look over to the table. No ones watching you. You breathe a sigh of relief and beeline to the bar instead. Maybe another drink will loosen you up. Liquid courage never hurt anyone right? You’re at the bar waiting for your drink when you feel the brush of a hot hand against your bare thigh. You turn to see who’s touched you without even a hello and meet dark furious eyes. Bingo. No! Ugh she’s dead to you. But not really. You want her hand back on your thighs. You want her warm hands in between your thighs spreading you open. You want her mouth and her marks all over you again in places only she can see. Her invisible claim looms over you hanging in the tense air between you two.
If she wants to fuck you again, she’s going to have to chase you. You move away from her space, after all she’s the one crowding you while being here with another girl. Justine. Whatever her name is. You’re bitterly reminded that’s who Elisa has chosen to show off tonight. A privilege you never had. At least not where people knew you both.
Elisa is vindictive. She knows what it does to you to see her with someone else. She knows you’ll hate her and yourself to see it. She also knows you get turned on by a little shame about not being nice about everything all the time. She can see the way your legs are rubbing together for friction at the bar. This contempt you hold for her, it’s always fueled your relationship. From the day you met you’d semi hated each other. You love each other more, don’t get her wrong. But your fire was the reason she ever wanted you in the first place. You always gave as good as you got. And this right now? This is playing dirty.
The fingertips against your bare thigh was the tip of the iceberg. What she really wants to do is stand directly behind you and bury her fingers in your cunt until you admit no one else could ever fuck you like she does. No one else can take you in public. You don’t trust anyone else to get you off but her. She doesn’t even like the thought of you masturbating. All of your orgasms should belong to her and her only.
She knows you know how to play on her jealous streak. She knows she doesn’t like to share her toys, especially not her favourite one. Her most cherished one. She doesn’t mark anyone else the way she’s clawed you up.
Mine. Mine. Mine.
Something cruel unfurls itself blooming in the centre of her chest. She wants to crack open her own chest and keep you there. Wants to eat you, to have you close. Fully consume you and your attention.
Is it too late to own you? She could never be your girlfriend. Only your keeper.
You’re looking at her like you’re innocent. Like you didn’t specifically choose the dress she’s eaten you out in several times. It just makes you look so damn deletable. She loves to lick you off her fingers. She wants you back. Badly. Josephine was a ploy to get you riled up. She wants to feel some sort of guilt over it but nothing matters as much as you.
“I’m done playing games.” She says. Does she think you’ll fall right back into her lap?
“I’m not sure what you mean?” Bullshit you don’t.
She looks around like someone in the loud restaurant might hear her. Before ducking down and whispering in your ear.
“I want to come home.” Her voice sounds a little whiny. Her finger tips are back on your bare thigh. You can feel your skin breaking out into goosebumps upon her touch. Your body is a traitor. Home is your flat, your bed, between your legs, the smell of your hair, you.
You turn your head to the other side so to anyone else it won’t look like you’re engaging with her and this behaviour. Acting like a poorly behaved dog.
“Please?” She places a featherlight kiss on your shoulder. You can feel her hot breath more than the indent of her lips.
Of course you miss her. More than the sex, you want her in your kitchen and on the couch. You want her clothes strewn about and dirty dishes in the sink. You want the smell of your lotion on her so everyone knows she’s as much yours as you are hers.
Can she feel your resolve breaking? Because steadily it’s crumbling. That extra drink was not a good idea.
You meet her eyes again. She’s mad but she’s earnest. You could always see it in her eyes when she was being sincere.
“Could we talk please? Outside?” You supposed an old dog can learn new tricks. Talking? She’s a quick learner and she’s driven by you.
You look back at the table to see Jasmine laughing but looking around to see where Elisas gone. You feel bad for her you really do but the gravitational force between you two was always going to trump any other relationships you had. You meet Elisas open eyes and nod slowly allowing yourself to be guided outside into the cool french night. She intertwined your left hands while her right hand is settled on your lower back to keep a hold of you through the crowd. It’s sweet and unlike her. It makes your heart wrench. Once you get outside she stays quiet for a moment. Allowing herself to admire what she thought she’d lost for a moment.
She thought she could be okay with it. She told herself she didn’t care what you did or who you went out with. You were another conquest in her books. But as soon as you had set your jaw and gotten up to seduce the waiter, her stomach had dropped straight to the floor. She was sweating and her pulse quickened. She knew then she had no other choice but to commit to you or die. She needs to be yours. She doesn’t even like who she is when she isn’t around you. Her hierarchy of needs involves food, shelter, and you. She can’t not have you.
“I love you,” She says. It is low and quiet in the night. Almost carried away by the wind.
“And I think I need you, genuinely I don’t do anything without thinking about you anymore. I’m in the kitchen and I’m thinking about the way you dance when you cook and how we always cuddled up on the couch and I was so content with what I had I didn’t realize I needed it until it was gone. Please, I want to come home.”
This is it. This is everything you wanted to hear. But you can’t help feeling insecure, she’s burned you before.
“Whatever you’re thinking, I’m willing to work for it. I’m willing to wait. Cause I can’t see you with anyone else. I need to be yours and you need to be mine so please.. Could I have another shot?”
You feel like you’re being pulled in two directions. Can she change? You hope to god she can. You sign and drag out your response before saying “You hurt my feelings a lot. It won’t be easy. But I’m willing to try.”
She smiles brightly at you. Lips quirked up until her entire face is a light. You’ve never seen this expression on her before. She swoops down halfway as if to kiss you before stopping herself.
“Can I kiss you? Would that be alright?”
You roll your eyes fondly.
“Quickly, it’s only celebratory.”
She kisses your lips chastely. She pulls back slightly to groan and say “Oh god love, nobody tastes like you do.” You pull her back into you. You need her and she needs you and everything is burning around you but it’s okay because you’re home. You pull away to meet her curious eyes. You grab her hand and squeeze it once.
“This means we’re monogamous right? No one else?”
“I can’t even think about anyone but you. And if you ever kiss someone else, or flirt, or want someone else I’ll die so yes we’re monogamous.”
You smile brilliantly up at her.
“Let’s go home.”
