#my friend is moving out of her room and she asked the landlord if i could simply move in and he said yes<3

[darcyolsson]

ALSO i forgot to mention but i finally found a new place to live and im moving out of my parents place again soon 😭😭😭😭💛💛💛🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶 no longer killing myself

[nerdie-faerie]

This has got to be the worst move out yet

[moonstruckme]

i was wondering if we could have some roomate!james where him and reader have a disagreement over something and reader feels like james don’t want her there anymore but he comforts her??

Thanks for requesting!

cw: reader feels financially insecure

roommate!James x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

“James.” You run your fingers worriedly over the small tears in the doorframe. Look to your roommate in the kitchen. “This is getting out of hand.” 

“What is?” 

“Juniper’s been scratching on the doorframe again.” 

James tsks. “Junie-girl,” he coos, little reprimand to be found in his tone as he looks down at the orange cat currently winding through his ankles, “what are you trying to do to us, huh?” 

You’re not quite so amused. Since James had agreed to look after his friend Lily’s cat while she’s traveling, Juniper has knocked down and broken two of your glasses, scratched up a corner of the couch, and pissed on the carpet in James’ room. You’re lucky you don’t have to deal with the smell of that last one yourself, but you doubt your landlord will be pleased if James can’t get it out by the end of your lease. 

“She’s got to stop,” you say, oddly unsure if you’re trying to reason with James or the cat. “It’s getting really noticeable.” 

“I’m not sure what else to do.” James shrugs. His pan sizzles as he turns over the chicken he’s cooking. “I’ve already moved her favorite scratching post over by the door and sprayed it with the catnip Lily gave me.” 

You cross your arms and sit down on the couch, chewing the inside of your lip. “I’m worried about the security deposit,” you admit. 

“Oh, don’t be.” James waves a hand vaguely in your direction. “My last apartment was way worse than this when I moved out, and they didn’t charge me for anything.” 

His unconcern nettles you. Of course, why would James be upset about a security deposit? He likes to pretend at independence, but you know his parents will always give him funds if he’s in a bind. He doesn’t worry about money the way you do. 

 “Yes, but that was a different landlord, wasn’t it.” There’s a bit of bite to your tone, and you try to soften it. “Maybe someone else could take her for the rest of Lily's trip?” 

James turns, eyebrows lifting as though he’s surprised you’d even ask. “She couldn’t get anyone else to take her in the first place. Mary’s visiting her family, Marl’s allergic, and Sirius would have a cow.” You’re not very inclined to find the last one a spectacular excuse, but you keep your mouth shut. “I agreed to take her,” he says, somewhat firmly, “and I don’t want to go back on that.” 

Heat prickles over your skin. “I just—listen, I can paint over the small things,” you say. “I’m going to try to cover up as many damages as I can, but when your friends come over and break the handle off the microwave” —true story— “or you let their cats tear up the apartment, I don’t know what to do.” 

“I told you I’m going to fix the microwave,” he says without turning around. 

“When, James? That was months ago, and—” 

“And if my friends coming over is a problem for you, it’s not like you didn’t have plenty of opportunities to mention it when we first moved in.” Now James is growing agitated too, his posture stiffening over the stove. “I don’t get where this is coming from. I told you before we moved in that I’d want to have friends here often. When I asked if Junie could stay here, you said it was fine!” 

“I didn’t know it’d be like this!” You feel ridiculous, nearly shouting at him in your mostly lovely apartment. James really isn’t a bad roommate overall; you know you could do far worse. But the small things have begun to add up, and you really cannot afford not to lose your deposit. “I like your friends, and I like Junie, but this is—it’s too much.” 

“You shouldn’t have lived with me if you couldn’t deal with it.” 

James flicks off the stove, turning around to speak to you directly, and you see the moment he sees the glossy sheen in your eyes. His expression pinches. 

“Sweetheart—” 

“No. Do not feel bad for me right now,” you hiss, blinking furiously. “Just because I’m not good at arguing doesn’t mean I’m not still mad.” 

Your anger is rapidly fading, though, as his words reverberate around in your head. You shouldn’t have lived with me. Does he really think that? There are certainly things upon which you don’t see eye-to-eye, but you love living with James. You love spending time with him, sharing things with him, just being around him. The idea that he doesn’t feel the same about you starts spiderweb cracks going through your heart. 

“I’m not good at arguing either,” he says with a hefty sigh. The tension seems to go out of his shoulders with it, and he starts toward you with heavy steps, plopping down on the couch. “Can we just talk, please?” 

You sniffle, working hard to suppress your tears. “Do you think it’d be better if we didn’t live together?” you ask. 

James' eyes widen behind his glasses. His brows hook up in the middle. “No. Why would you say that?” 

You shake your head, not quite looking at him. “I honestly do like your friends. I don’t mind them coming over or helping you do favors for them, and I get that—that sometimes things happen.” You take a shallow breath. Ignore the way James’ hand twitches in his lap. “But you’re right that I didn’t consider all of this when we moved in together. I’m okay with trying to get past it, but if you want me to move out—” 

“Oh my god, no.” James leans forward, trying to catch your gaze. You don’t let him, because just then a small droplet of water squishes out of the corner of your eye and begins a slow trudge down your cheek. “Sweetheart, I don’t want that. I like living with you.” 

Juniper hops up onto the couch, plodding onto your lap and rubbing her side against your stomach affectionately. A wet laugh bubbles out of you, more tears cresting your cheeks as you scratch awkwardly between her ears. 

James makes a sound so soft you think you’ll dream about it. “Can I hug you?” 

You lean toward him in answer. He meets you halfway, needling his arms under yours and folding you into him. You press your face, hot with embarrassment and upset, into the crook of his neck and shoulder, and James’ hand rubs your back in big, sweeping circles, before it stops moving at all, pressing flush to your spine, easing you closer. Junie hops off your lap. Evidently, she considers your comfort taken care of.

“I don’t want you to pity me,” you mumble. When you blink, your lashes leave wetness like the strokes of a paintbrush on his skin. “If you want me to move out, it’s okay.” 

“I don't,” he promises, squeezing you until it almost hurts. “I was being rash. I was only being defensive because you were angry. About very reasonable stuff, if I’m honest. I can pay for your half of the security deposit if we lose it.” 

You shake your head, shifting your body to hug him harder. James meets you a hundred percent. “You don’t need to do that.” 

“I do, it’s fine. It’s my mess. Just don’t talk any more about moving out, okay?” 

You mumble your agreement into his neck. It tickles, and James squeaks, but he doesn’t let you go.

[nadvs]

please can we have sleeping with the enemy reader taking care of rafe with his hangover (from your last blurb) 😚😚

aaaa yes omg the fluff! (and the everyone but them can see it trope!) (and the overdue confession!) 🙂‍↕️

based on this fic, continutation of this blurb

rafe can’t even open his eyes yet. he feels like he’s an inch away from death.

about a month ago, he moved out of his dorm and into a house with a group of his teammates. it was a nightmare securing a lease on a house because of the reputation athletes have left on the landlords off campus.

but because rafe was the one who worked so hard on getting the house, and because he’s the team captain, he got the biggest and best room, ensuite attached.

it’s in the top floor. it’s quiet. it gets the best ac. but no amount of ac can make the sickening heat of the hangover he has this morning any better.

he finally opens his eyes. she’s not beside him. if he remembers correctly, he asked her to sleep over last night. and… goddamn it, he called her his girlfriend.

there’s a good chance he scared her away. they’re best friends who hook up sometimes. that’s it. no matter how much his teammates - at least the ones who have the balls to - fuck with him about it.

a few nights ago, a girl struck up conversation with rafe at a party and one of his buddies told her not to bother because ‘he’s basically married’ and the crazy thing is, he let her believe it. he hasn’t hooked up with another girl in ages. he hasn’t wanted to.

it got to him. maybe that’s why he slipped up last night, calling her his girlfriend. if he remembers right, it’s like they agreed to being something more in a roundabout, drunken way. or maybe she was just humoring him and is planning to let him down easy when they’re both sober.

she’s in the kitchen, wearing one of rafe’s shirts, cutting up what little fruit the guys have lying around. the blender was a bitch to clean, tacked with residual protein powder.

she’s awake before everyone, making rafe a smoothie to help cure his hangover. this is 100% girlfriend behavior. she’s doing the absolute most. she knows that.

she tells herself it’s because they’re best friends. she’d do the same for any other friend. but doing it for rafe feels so much more gratifying than if she did it for anyone else.

as she drops banana slices into the blender, she thinks about the regret that washed over rafe’s face last night.

she wonders why he so obviously wished he hadn’t called her his girlfriend. was it because he accidentally exposed what he really thinks of her? or because he didn’t want her to get the wrong idea?

she blends the smoothie, cleans up and pads upstairs to rafe’s bedroom. when she opens the door, he’s sprawled out on his bed, down to his boxers, the duvet half-covering his body.

she’s seen him naked so many times before. but this weirdly feels like it’s the most intimate they’ve ever been.

“did you take my clothes off last night?” rafe grumbles, staring up at the ceiling.

“somehow,” she answers. “i fell on my ass trying to pull your jeans off.”

“oh, yeah,” he laughs. he heard her fall to the floor in the dark. it was hilarious. but then he clutches his head. even laughing hurts. “fuck.”

“imagine how bad you’d feel if i didn’t force water on you last night. you’re welcome, by the way,” she says.

she places the glass on the nightstand and sits on the edge of the bed, glad she only had a couple of drinks last night.

“i made you a smoothie. you need to replenish.”

his tired blue eyes finally land on her. he takes her in, the way her brows are knitted in concern, the way she looks in his shirt.

“and your blender was disgusting,” she adds. “it’s pretty sad that a whole group of grown men don’t know how to properly wash dishes. it took me forever to clean it.”

“you’re talking too much,” he rasps, massaging his temple with his thumb.

normally, she’d tease him back. she knows he’s joking. but the joke doesn’t land. she looks away.

in the sober brightness of the morning, she realizes she feels stupid. they agreed they were just friends, but she’s playing house and acting like a girlfriend to someone who either doesn’t want her like that, or does and won’t admit to it when he’s not drunk.

she doesn’t mind taking care of him. but she’s catching feelings. how can she be friends with someone when every second that passes that they’re not more than that feels like a little dose of rejection?

they’ve always been direct with each other. at some point, that stopped. at least on her side.

“i’m fucking with you,” rafe clarifies. “thank you.”

she scoffs. he hardly ever has manners. she must really look mad.

“sure,” she says. she leans forward, picking up and handing him the smoothie, knowing he’s too tired to get it himself. “do you remember what you said last night?”

rafe’s eyes dart away. he rakes back his tousled hair, sitting up slowly to hold the smoothie. tortuously slow, he takes a sip, making her wait for his answer.

“what’d i say?” he mumbles.

she tilts her head, her lips in a firm line. he said he wouldn’t be embarrassed the next day. he’s acting like he is now, though. or maybe he really doesn’t remember.

she suddenly feels bad for pushing this heavy of a conversation on him when he’s clearly exhausted and feeling so terrible.

“we’ll talk about it later,” she says. it gives rafe a wave of anxiety. maybe she’s planning to let him down gently. to tell him they can’t be more than friends. “hydrate, got it?”

she stands, pulling his shirt off over her head.

“where are you going?” he asks, watching her bend over to pick up last night’s clothes.

“home,” she says. “text me if you wanna hang out later when you feel human again.”

she leaves. he lets her.

he’s in a funk the rest of the morning. he eventually finds the strength to take a shower. he eats his first meal at three p.m.

when he sees the blender on the drying rack in the kitchen, his chest tightens. this isn’t normal. he shouldn’t miss someone he saw just this morning. but he does.

and whatever happened last night is hanging over him. if he knows her, he knows it’s bothering her, too.

he texts her: feeling human again. u busy?

she replies: i’m free and starving.

he smirks at his phone. pick you up in 30

when she sinks into the passenger seat of his suv, she’s uneasy. jittery. as if this is a first date. but when she takes in how tense he looks, she pushes all her feelings away.

“what’s wrong?” she asks. “you good?”

“i’m… this feels weird,” he admits. she stills. so it’s not just her who senses it.

“weird how?”

“what do you wanna eat?” he asks. “where am i going?”

“you’re staying here until you tell me what’s up.”

rafe chews on his lip. he turns his key, shutting the car off, parked in front of her dorm building. he knows there’s no point in arguing with her. she can be stubborn.

“weird how?” she repeats.

“like… i’m nervous or something.”

rafe has known for a while now that he’s someone else around her. or maybe he’s actually himself, and she’s the only person who coaxes it out of him.

“nervous?” she echoes. rafe is only ever nervous before an important game, and even then, he’s more hyped up to win than anything.

he can’t take it anymore. he’d rather rip off the bandaid.

“be straight with me,” he says. “what’d i say that you wanted to talk about?”

she can’t recall the last time she felt so shy around him, if ever.

“do you remember calling me your girlfriend?” she says.

he shuffles in his seat, expelling a heavy breath.

“if i fucked things up, just say it,” he rasps.

“so, you remember?”

“yeah.”

“do you remember how you said you wouldn’t be embarrassed for saying it?”

“yeah,” he mutters sharply. “can you get to the point?”

“can you not be a dick right now?” she says.

he sighs. can’t she tell he’s anxious?

“are you?” she says. “embarrassed, i mean?”

“no,” rafe begins. “i’m annoyed that i said it. it made things awkward.”

“it did,” she agrees.

“okay,” he huffs. “so what now?”

she clasps her hands together in her lap, looking out at the side mirror. she could just say they can forget about it. grab takeout. go back to normal. but going back to normal kind of feels impossible.

“my friends always tell me we act like a couple,” she finally says. “this morning, i was washing your dishes and organizing your fridge and i thought, they’re right. this is the kind of stuff a girl in a relationship does. but then i was like, no it’s not like that. we’re just best friends. but then last night... you said you’d be a good boyfriend.”

“mhm,” he says, bracing for the rejection. the let’s just be friends. or worse, the things are too weird now and we should probably stop hanging out.

she swallows hard.

“i wanted to know if… did something change? were you just drunk or do you actually want to…” she trails off.

for once, it feels odd saying her thoughts out loud to him. because he was always as adamant about not wanting commitment as she was. things have gotten so messy all because he blurted something out last night.

rafe stares at her profile as she looks out the window. she’d fiddling impatiently, like she was the night they first talked at the bar months ago, waiting for someone to take her drink order.

“the guys mess with me about it, too,” he tells her. “they say we act like we’re married or some shit.”

she quirks her eyebrows. they basically do. they see each other almost every day. they bicker. they’re constantly subconsciously touching, whether it’s through joined hands or bumped knees. they have too many inside jokes. they take care of each other. she reminds him of things he can’t afford to forget, like appointments or exams. he makes sure she eats and he pays for everything they do together.

“i don’t look at other girls,” he confesses. “and i know you get hit on when you go out, but it never goes anywhere. i… okay, yeah, fine, something did change at some point. i don’t know when.”

for the first time since she got in the car, she cracks a smile. they’re best friends who are ridiculously attracted to each other and joined at the hip. if that’s not a relationship, what is?

“are we already kind of dating?” she says, finally meeting his eyes.

rafe breathes a chuckle, the heaviness in his chest lifting all at once.

everything was always so easy with her. he assumed it’s because they had no expectations between them. but that wasn’t it. in reality, they had been quietly meeting each other’s expectations without having to try.

“yeah. we are,” he says.

her eyelids flutter as she looks down, gazing at his hand splayed over the dark denim on his thigh. her stomach is numb. her mind is buzzing.

“how’d you get so lucky?” she teases.

rafe doesn’t even have it in him to joke back. he needs to touch her. he leans forward, cradling her jaw, capturing her lips in his.

they’ve kissed a thousand times before. but never like this. this is a kiss that says there’s an understanding that she’s his and he’s hers. and maybe it took them a while to realize that, but now that they’re here, they’re not going back.

(continuation)

[alotofpockets]

Roommates | Kyra Cooney-Cross x Gorry!Reader & Katrina Gorry x Sister!Reader

Where you start dating your sister's bestfriend after she becomes your roommate.

Woso masterlist | Words: 1.8k

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"You're still going to pick up Kyra from the airport and drive her to her introduction at the Arsenal training grounds, right?" Your sister has asked you this question at least ten times now. Her Matilda's teammates, and one of her closest friends Kyra Cooney-Cross was making the move from Australia to the UK, just like you had done two years ago, and your sister had asked you to look out for her there. 

"Yes Mini, don't worry. I will pick up Kyra and drive her to London Colney. You can go to sleep and stop worrying, I promise I've got her." 

Katrina seemed to finally relax a bit, "Okay, text me when she gets there? I told her to do that too, but she'll probably be too tired from the flight to remember.” Your sister loved Kyra like family, and it was sweet to see how similarly she cared for Kyra as she does for you. 

“I will text you when I see her at the airport, now please go to sleep.” You laughed at the slightly annoyed sigh that escaped her mouth. “Thank you again, and goodnight.” You hung up the phone after wishing Katrina a good night as well.

You finish your workday, and run some errands, before you head home. You made a funny poster to welcome Kyra to London before you head to bed for an early wake up call to head to the airport.

When you saw Kyra walk down the gate hall, she looked exhausted from the long flight, a feeling you knew all too well yourself. She was wearing a pair of sweats and a hoodie, combined with a messy bun. When she laid eyes on your poster her face lit up. Welcome to London, my favourite Tillie!

"Oh we're so showing Mini your sign." She greets you with a hug. “Yeah, let's send her a picture. I promised I'd text her when you landed.” The two of you pose together with the sign, while someone next to you takes your picture. 

“Are you hungry?” You ask while you take half of her bags. “I ate on the plane, but am in desperate need of a coffee.” In the coffee shop you catch up for a bit over coffee, and breakfast for you, before Kyra gets a call. She walks out of the shop to take the call, while you scroll on your phone.

“What’s wrong?” The panicked look on her face as she walked back in immediately grabbing your attention. “That was the landlord of my apartment, he just let me know that he accidentally double signed. In other words, I don’t have a place to stay anymore.” Without a second thought you had a solution for her problem. “I’ve got a spare room that I never use. It’s yours if you want it.”

The following week you helped Kyra get settled and went with her for her introduction meeting at Arsenal. Initially you would just drop her off and pick her up later in the day, but she had insisted you’d join her. Together you got the Arsenal tour, and you sat to the side for all her video and picture moments. All in all, it ended up being a fun day.

The two of you had gotten close quickly over the days that passed, sure you had known each other already, but now living together brought you on a whole new level of friendship.

Tomorrow would be Kyra's first training session at Arsenal, as well as meeting the team for the first time. Besides her Aussie teammates Steph and Caitlin, she didn't know anyone more than a familiar face. You had known she was nervous, but you didn't realise just how much until she knocked on your bedroom door.

“Hey Ky, what's up?” The usual smile the girl was wearing was replaced by a frown. “Were you homesick when you first moved here?” You had been so adamant that she was just nervous, that you hadn't taken the move to another continent into consideration. “Yeah, I did. Come here.” Patting the spot on your bed besides you, you offered her a place to sit. 

You talked for a while before you both fell asleep. The next day you drove Kyra to her first practice with Arsenal. You were just going to drop her off, but when you saw Caitlin get out of her car, you had to go say hi. You knew all of the Tillies from the many times you had met them in the family and friends hall after matches. 

“Y/n, hi, what are you doing here?” She greeted you with a quick hug. You point back to your car where Kyra appeared from behind the trunk. “Ky has been staying with me.” 

On queue Kyra appears beside you, and drops her bags to hug Caitlin tight. While the two of them embrace, another player walks up to greet you. You knew it was Katie, but as far as you remembered you had never properly met. “Hi, I'm Katie, nice to meet you.” She extends her hand. “Y/n, nice to meet you too.”

Katie inspects you, trying to figure out where she knew you from, until it finally clicked. “Oh you're Gorry’s little sister, aren’t you?” Kyra stepped out of her hug with Caitlin to defend you. “She's her own person you know.” It was really sweet, but you really didn't mind. “It's fine Ky, I am.” You rolled your eyes at her defensiveness, but behind that facade you secretly loved how she stuck up for you. 

From then on Caitin and Katie picked up Kyra for practice, since you basically lived on the route to the training centre.

Kyra joined you in your room on more days than not over the next few weeks, and you would be lying to yourself if you didn’t enjoy the moments you spent together. You were quickly falling for her, and every part of you hoped that she felt the same way. 

Then one morning you woke up with Kyra cuddled into your side, and her leg draped over yours. You lift your hand to gently play with her hair, she hums with enjoyment and cuddles further into your side. “Good morning to you too.” You were like a deer in headlights, caught by the fact that she had, unbeknownst to you already been awake. “Don’t stop.”

You release the breath you were holding and continue. You must have laid there for another hour before you got out of bed. “Can I maybe take you out for breakfast?” The way her eyes lit up at your question was enough for you to realise that she did indeed feel the same way. “I would love that.”

The two of you had been together ever since, just keeping it to yourselves to enjoy your time together away from prying eyes. Which is why you were stressed since your sister had called that she was coming to visit with her family, because she was meeting with the West Ham United team. You had offered your home as a place for them to stay while she had her meeting, and while her and Clara would be looking at homes for their family. 

“Relax babe, we never changed my room back to a guest room, so they won’t notice a thing if we act like just friends for a couple days.” Kyra tried reassuring you. You had talked about telling her, but ultimately you decided that you weren’t ready to tell her yet, and Kyra was fine with that. 

Kyra offered Mini and Clara her room, while she took the couch, and your niece Harper was overjoyed to be having a sleepover in your room for a couple of days. It was nice having your family around, and you were excited to have them closer after the move as well. 

Mini and Clara were out house hunting while you and Kyra spent some time with Harper. Harper insisted on some painting, and you could not stop laughing when the girl had started painting Kyra instead of her paper. While Harper was dancing and singing her little heart out to Frozen, you cleaned Kyra’s face. When you were done you placed a quick kiss on her lips. “All done.”

Meanwhile a few blocks over Mini’s mind was on something besides house hunting. “I think they’re together.” She stated to Clare, who was busy inspecting the kitchen of the place they were currently in. “Who?” 

“Y/n and Kyra.” This got Clara’s attention. “What makes you think that?” Mini went on and on about how Kyra’s room looked like it hadn’t been touched in weeks, that you looked so comfortable together, the glances she had noticed between the two of you, and just the general vibe when the two of you were in a shared space. “Well, if they are, what would you think of that?” Mini thought for a moment before ultimately deciding that she thought the two of you would be cute together and good for each other. 

Mini had not expected to get answers to her question on if the two of you were together or not, but when she put Harper to bed, her little girl snitched on you right away. “Did you have fun today?” The girl nodded her head enthusiastically before telling her mom all about the things that you had done today and finished her story with, “Oh and Auntie and Kywa was kissing.” Mini smiled to herself. “Oh did they now, sweetheart? I am glad you had a good day. Sweet dreams.” 

The next morning you head out to breakfast all together, before your sister and her family fly back for a couple more months. “This place is great, y/n. Where did you find it?” You’re glad that they are enjoying the food just as much as you do. “I took Kyra here when she was all settled in.” You were soaking in all the time with your little niece as much as you could, so you were helping her colour in her drawing while you were speaking to the adults at the table.

“Oh, did you go here for your first date?” Since you were so focussed on the colouring you didn’t think before speaking. “Yeah- oh.” Your head shot up at your older sister, though you relax when you see the proud smirk on her face. “You knew?”

Mini points to Harper, “We’ve got ourselves a little snitch on our hands, she saw you two kiss yesterday. I did also have a feeling already.” You felt relieved now that your sister knew, because she was the person you were most scared of telling, with Kyra being one of her best friends and all.

You drove Mini, Clara, and Harper to the airport with Kyra, where you said your temporary goodbye’s. Knowing that they would be back in two months to move to London. You couldn’t wait to have your family close again. 

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[pennjammin]

JJK ROOMMATES (aka my tumblr debut)

summary! he comes home to find that you’ve been drinking, and sees you in a rather… compromising situation of sorts. things are said, some teasing is done, and your relationship with your roomie is forever changed.

PAIRINGS. gojo/reader, nanami/reader, choso/reader

CONTENT: implied smut, switch!reader, slight exhibitionism, cunnilingus, afab!reader

this is my first post on tumblr!! i hope everyone enjoys. crit welcome ^.^

GOJO [with Geto + Toji Cameo.] oh so you can twerk on your friend? come show me what that ass is really good for.

You had invited your girls over for a sleepover. A small group, only three of you. The goal had been to get wine drunk, paint, and play some drinking games. (Like naming all the things you like about Satoru Gojo.)

A few glasses in and plans had changed, though.

You were in the center of the living room, the furniture moved out of the way, as you all had a ‘dance battle.’ But you were so far gone off of wine by now, that you were basically just dry humping your friends and taking turns throwing it back on both of them while they cheered you on.

You could smell the noise complaint letter from the landlords a mile away, but right now you didn't care.

The wine had your senses tingling. You could sense the unwanted urge to text your roommate and ask him what he was doing. But you knew full well that he had declared his own plans away from home with his friends, and that it was not your place to rush him.

But God, it was so hard. Your impulse control had practically vanished by now. It would be nothing to sneak away and call Gojo, putting on your whiny voice that always got him to fold like a lawn chair.

As if eavesdropping on your thoughts—right when you were in the middle of bending down in front of your friend to touch your toes and hit an extremely raunchy dance move—the front door busted open and in walked Gojo with two of his friends you'd only seen a few times: Toji and Geto.

Gojo was carrying a tower of pizza boxes while Geto held two thick bottles of clear liquor, and Toji stood empty-handed, a smirk on his face.

"We're crashing your party!" Gojo announced, sitting the boxes down on the counter. If not for his sunglasses, you would be able to see his eyes practically burning through your clothes.

You didn't bother straightening up or pretending that you weren't just throwing ass on your friend. And she certainly didn't pretend not to be catching all that you were throwing.

And the boys certainly didn't pretend to not be looking.

Y/F/N who had been standing to the side, recording, dropped her phone and spoke up, annoyance in her tone.

"Who the hell invited you?" she demanded.

"Well, I do live here, so write that down,” Gojo retorted, coming around the island, pointing at you. "Secondly, look at how you have my roommate acting. Looks like I got here just in time. I didn't even know she knew how to..." his eyes had latched back onto your ass. "Do that."

"Jealous that someone knows how to twerk better than you, Satoru?" Geto chimed in.

Gojo was silent, as that was clearly not what he was jealous about.

“Alright, sounds like a twerk battle is in order!” Toji boomed, clapping his hands, walking towards you girls.

“They just want to see us shake some ass,” your friend whispered from behind you, as you stood straight with your back to her.

You giggled, not caring in this slightest if it was a trap, as you’d gladly show off your skills to the white-haired boy. His friends could look if they wanted to, but it was his gaze, his opinion that mattered most to you.

The boys piled into the living room with schoolboy expressions and tried to sneak onto the couch.

Your girls immediately started exclaiming, “absolutely not!” “Get your ass up and twerk.” “You thought this was just going to be between us girls?”

The boys insisted on you allowing them to catch up to your level of drunkenness, to which you agreed.

And that is how you ended up in the corner of the living room, grinding on Gojo's lap.

The scent of tequila clouded the room. The music, at some point, had been switched from thumping party music to soft reggae, the lights all turned down.

Toji and your friend (who had yelled at the boys) were eating each other’s faces in the kitchen, and your other drunken friend was in deep conversation with an equally as drunk Geto on the couch; both of them sitting cross-legged and dangerously close, in their own bubble.

Everyone was occupied. So no one noticed Gojo's hands drunkenly slithering up your back side, his fingertips digging into the soft skin of your hips, his breath hitching as he tried to keep himself quiet.

You kept dragging your hips forward and backward on his clothed dick—that had long since hardened beneath you—the world fuzzy around the edges as you barely registered what exactly it was you were doing.

The "twerk battle" had been just this, essentially since it started, because Gojo had lost his mind when you'd started throwing it at him, and the liquor had gotten the best of his lightweight ass.

"Y/N, wait..." he groaned out suddenly. “What are we doing?”

A surge of confidence washed through your veins as you stood and turned, wanting to see his face. His blinking eyes, now free from the sunglasses, were stunned as he stared at you, lips parted.

“What do you think we’re doing?” you questioned, biting your lip, perching yourself back up on his lap and proceeding to make the same motions with your hips from before.

A low groan escaped from deep within his throat.

“But Geto and—“

You placed a finger over his soft lips. He bared them back to nip the tip of your finger with his teeth. The sensation flooded your nerves, down to your core.

“Do I hear the Satoru Gojo being… shy?” you teased.

His hand flew to your throat in a flash, the pads of his fingers pressing into your glands and forcing your face towards his, the aroma of different kinds of liquor mixing together in the air between you.

“Who’s shy?” he purred, cocking his head to the side. “You honestly saying you can handle being fucked in front of your friends? That what you want?”

You gulped a bit.

“I…” The words got hung in your throat.

“As I figured,” he cooed, pulling you even closer to him. “It’s alright, we’ll kick everyone out soon, and then I’ll mark you all over this livingroom. But for now, keep grinding, princess.”

NANAMI miss me so much you had to touch yourself in my shirt baby?

Maybe just a little masturbation wouldn't hurt. To rub one out quickly and relieve some of the pent up energy you had from not having a partner in months couldn’t possibly be weird.

Except for the fact that here you lay, a bottle of tequila with a noticeable dent in it on the table next to you, snuggled up in one of Nanami's big, blue dress shirts. You'd never admit this to him aloud, but on these times that he was gone on long trips, you missed him.

At first you'd chalked it up to missing the security that came with living with a man, but you realize now it was one-hundred percent his company, his warmth, him that you missed. His shirt was the only thing that filled the void for you. You’d secretly wear them all week, but this was the first time you’d found yourself masturbating in one.

One minute you’d been sipping curtly on your tequila, the next you’d begun picturing Nanami; his fingers unclasping the heavy golden watch that he always wore, then you’d laid back on the couch and imagined what other things his big fingers could do.

Your hands found the top button of his shirt, and then the second, and then the third, until your breasts came free, the cold air eroticizing your nipples until they were so hard that it hurt. You slid a hand underneath the waistband of your underwear and began to tease yourself, the free hand twisting one of your nipples as you let out a gasp.

You could smell Nanami's cologne. Strong, but sweet; just like him. The scent of a man in general was driving you forward as you slid your fingers across your slick clit in circular motions.

You kept inhaling deep breaths through your nose to get more hints of the cologne; his general musk. You couldn't help picturing his face with his lips parted in pleasure, his hair between your fingers, his hands sliding up your arms, binding them together with harsh ropes—

You gasped as you tried to shake such nasty thoughts about your sweet roommate away, but the pleasure coming from your wild imagination was adding to your arousal.

His face appeared in your mind’s eye all over again. You shut your eyes and finally stopped fighting it. You were aching to slide a finger in, so you gave your body exactly what it wanted. You let out a gasp, a gasp so loud that it masked the sound of the door opening.

You began pumping your finger in and out, wringing pleasure from every stem of your nerves. You whined at the intensity, still seeing Nanami in your mind's eye, hovering over you. He’d massage your thigh with his free hand as his fingers pumped mercilessly into your dripping core. Despite his innocence, you knew he’d put your pleasure first. You knew he could take care of your needs and satisfy your hunger. Another whine fell from your mouth.

By this point you needed those restricting lace panties to come off and give you more room to open your legs. You opened your eyes so that you could see what you were doing, and when you did, your visions of Nanami didn't go away, because he was standing over you.

You let out a yelp and immediately took your wet finger out of your core, using your hands to pinch his shirt closed and hide your breasts.

"N-Nanami, you're home,” you rasped, your throat dry from embarrassment. “I’m so sorry, I—“

"No, I-I'm sorry," sped out of his mouth, cutting you off. "I should have looked away the second I saw you."

His cheeks were as red as yours felt. And yet, the expression his face did not seem very sorry. It was an expression similar to a starving man watching people eat through the window of a restaurant.

"I've never come home to a woman touching herself in my shirt, though," he added sheepishly, swallowing so hard that his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat.

"I just..." you started, sitting up, your heart racing; as you still hadn't shaken the embarrassment. You didn't know what to say, so you started gushing out apologies. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, this is weird and creepy and—"

"So fucking hot," Nanami breathed.

"W-What?" you blinked up at him, unsure if he’d really said that or if the liquor was really hitting now.

"I mean, it's..." Nanami cleared his throat and started tugging on his collar. "It's so fucking hot, in here."

"Maybe you should take your shirt off," you heard yourself say, though it sounded so far away. You couldn't believe you'd just said that. Had those words actually come from your mouth?

He had long since looked away, but now his neck snapped back towards you, his pupils black with desire.

"Of whom?" he asked.

"Me," you whispered, as if your pussy was speaking for you.

If Nanami was shocked, he didn't show it. He dropped his suitcase on the ground with a thud and was sitting in front of you on the couch in milliseconds.

He reached up and took off his glasses, sitting them down on the table, next to the liquor bottle. A single strand of his blond hair had fallen over his glistening forehead, and you were so deep in heat that it made you even wetter.

“How much have you had to drink?” he questioned. “I… don’t want to feel I am taking advantage of you.”

“Hmm,” you began, “maybe that’s what I want. I solemnly swear that I am…” you hiccuped a bit, inciting a deep chuckle from him, “mostly sober.”

Your arms fell away from your chest and your breasts popped back out of his shirt. He licked his lips, clearly wanting to hold back, but he must have lost the battle with his morals because his erotically cold hands found the buttons of his shirt on you—and started expertly popping the rest open.

One. By. One.

His shirt fell away from your chest and exposed your entire naked torso, which Nanami gazed at like it was the last supper. You shifted before him, wanting to hide yourself.

"You always get so bashful when I stare," Nanami cooed, a soft hand pushing the shirt down off of your shoulders until it was a big pile around your waist. "Never understood why. You're so..." he sucked in a breath and dropped his hand, curling his fingers. "I want to eat you alive."

You bit your lip. You wanted to beg him to make good on his threat, but you knew it was already so wrong of him to be undressing you, let alone to put his mouth on you. But you wanted him to. Wanted it so bad, it was causing pain between your legs.

“Then feast,” you tutted back, leaning on your elbows and slowly spreading your legs—revealing the light blue lace panties, complete with a tiny pink bow; the ones Nanami had caught himself staring at a few times when doing your laundry.

It was like you could read each other’s mind, and before you knew it, those panties were across the room; your roommate’s head in their place.

CHOSO i just saved you! how are you gonna repay me?

Choso opened your apartment door, grunting in pain for the hundredth time at the searing wave of pain that was traveling up his back. He could go for a hot shower and a massage, but he was lucky to even get the 'hot shower' part, given your apartment had the shittiest plumbing he'd ever seen.

A long day of working out, and all he'd wanted now was to sink into the couch and pretend to fight with you about putting on face masks and having a movie night. Verbally, he always claimed he hated it; because apparently, guys weren’t supposed to like that kind of thing, but internally, that quality time was sometimes the only thing keeping him going.

He glanced around the living room and kitchen. You weren't anywhere to be seen. Not unusual, you could have just been out with your friends. Your car was out front, but that hardly meant anything; you’d disappear for hours and even days without your car at times. He knew you had a life, but he also felt it to be his duty to make sure you were safe.

Choso sent you a text about dinner plans, and decided to start dressing down while he awaited your reply, partially taking off his sweaty gym shirt and resting it around his neck. The gnawing suspicion that you were home was confirmed when he heard your phone ding across the room. He hummed, deciding he would juuuust have to wait for you to emerge. Hmph.

It was as Choso began to unpack his gym bag that he heard banging, like someone knocking on a door. In the silence of the home, he was able to catch your bone-dry voice shouting on top of the knocking.

He went into action. Adrenaline immediately began to make him sweat all over again as he hustled around the house to locate the noises, realizing they were coming from down the hall.

He pulled on every doorknob until he found one that didn't twist: the bathroom. Locked.

He heard your voice from the other side; completely frantic, hoarse from an undetermined amount of screaming.

His heart sank. The thought of you in trouble caused his mind to wipe clean of all ideas and thoughts besides getting you out of it.

"Y/N?" he called to the other side of the door. "Are you... are you locked in there?"

You wailed from the other side. Choso's heart had already sped up, but now it was completely shattered.

"I...I don't know," your muffled voice slurred from the other side

Choso realized then that you had been drinking, and locked yourself plain into the bathroom. He wondered how many hours you'd been there. He had been at the gym for most of the afternoon.

"What did you drink?" Choso asked, still shaking at the handle, trying to wedge it free.

Deflecting the topic to try and make you feel better had been something he’d learned while trying to navigate this new world of human emotions.

"I only had a..." a hiccup cut you off. "I only had a little bit of cognac."

"How much is a little bit?" Choso questioned. "You've locked yourself in the bathroom, Y/N. How much did you drink?"

"I don't... remember," you cried. "Been stuck for hours. Choso..." your voice practically screamed the last word, and he could hear your voice cracking more. "I need you."

Choso didn't have time to debrief exactly what a statement like that did to his psyche before he was super-manning back to the livingroom to search for the chain of keys that unlocked each door in the apartment.

He would have to try them all, one by one, because he had no faith that he would be able to explain to you how to unlock the door from your side.

He came back and heard you crying his name once again. He put his hand flat on the door, as if you could see or feel him from beyond it.

"I'm here, Y/N," he said softly. "You'll have to be patient with me, but I will get you out. I promise."

"Please," you called back, equally as soft.

That was all the push Choso needed to ram every single key into the lock with panic. Over and over he frantically shoved each key in with shaking hands, trying to set you free.

He finally felt the lock click as a key found its match to the ridges inside and the doorknob shifted. He rattled the knob a bit and then the door was coming open.

He looked down to see you, red-faced and tear-stained on the floor, your knees to your chest.

Choso took a deep breath knowing that you were not bleeding out on the bathroom floor or anything, but his heart still thumped rapidly in his chest at the fact that you had been in here, with no food or water, and apparently no cellphone for hours.

And before he had a chance to utter a single word, you were on your feet and stumbling toward him, throwing your whole body weight on him, which didn't even make him stumble.

He raised his black eyebrows in surprise. You were... hugging him.

He let himself melt into the hug for just a moment, smelling your soft aroma mix beautifully with the liquor.

"You saved me!" you cried out, your little arms trying their best to make it all the way around his frame.

He let his own hands wrap back around you for a moment, patting your back awkwardly, despite the feminine urge to let his hands linger.

"I just unlocked the door," he joked, his voice coming out quite dry.

You backed away from the embrace then, staring up at him with dilated pupils.

“I need you more than keys need doors," you said suddenly. “I…I want your key.”

Choso blinked in disbelief, unsure how one responded to that.

"Let's get you something to eat," he said instead, deflecting again, plucking your hands away from his heated body but swallowing thickly all the while.

He grabbed you by your elbows and pulled you gently out of the bathroom before placing one hand on your hip to steady you as you stumbled with him down the hall.

Despite your stumbling, you didn't impact Choso's pace at all. You were falling into him in all kinds of ways, your head lolling on his chest, and there he walked next to you as steady as ever; his breath hitching each time the side of your body rubbed against his.

He brought you to the couch and coursed you down slowly. But, just when he was about to stand straight, you grabbed him by the sweaty shirt that hung around his neck and kept him close to your face.

He gasped, his perfect lips letting out the most beautiful sound you'd ever heard. His eyes widened, and you imagined them rolled back deep into his head, wondering what other noises you could wring from him as your hands explored the shapes of his muscles.

"I don't like repeating myself, Cho," you said through your cracked and sore throat, soberness creeping up on you very suddenly. "So you either fuck me; or I make you sit here and watch me get myself off while moaning your name."

He looked shocked but only momentarily, then his face twisted into a representation of his desire. You caught a quick glance at his sweatpants; whatever he said next would be easy to tell a lie from the truth, because the hardened length in his pants had already given his answer for him.

"I think you’re a little too dehydrated,” Choso cracked, trying to plaster a grin on his face, but it was hard for him to laugh through the overwhelming urge to obey you.

“I don’t need water,” you said, your raspy voice betraying you, “I. Need. You. How else can I thank such a good boy like you for helping me out of the bathroom?”

Good boy. You’d called him a good boy. His eyes practically fell out of his head.

Alright, fine, he thought. It wasn’t like you hadn’t been flirting with each the past few weeks, it wasn’t like he hadn’t already heard you moaning his name, it wasn’t like he hadn’t noticed you leaning your head on his shoulder during movie nights.

He sat down next to you on the couch and reached over to grip you by your hips and effortlessly brought you down on top of him.

“Wanna thank me for helping, huh?” he mewled. “Let’s see how grateful you really are.”

still working on mastering their characterizations; i feel like gojo’s was a lil off, but with more practice i know ill get there >.<

xoxo, pennjammin

[blaxcunicorn]

One-shot

Heeey! I just wrote something random as I felt a bit inspired after reading Just kids by Patti Smith. I have been busy with my exams which is why I've been gone for so long but we back!

Content: fem!reader, NSFW warning, Rockstar Eren before fame, friends to lovers, poverty

You hissed as you cut your pinky finger on a thorn while making a flower bouquet for a customer. You sucked it up and gave the sweet lady her bouquet with a smile. “It’s perfect, thank you. My daughter is going to love it.” She smiled. Her smile warmed your heart. Being a florist wasn’t the most fulfilling job, but making people like her smile motivates you. Well, that and putting food on the table. You grew up in the city's poorer side, so there weren’t many opportunities for you after high school. The florist job was the best thing you could find, it isn’t all bad, the owner has been nothing but kind to you. You heard the doorbell ring as Mrs Johnson came walking into the shop with bags that smelled like heaven. She and her husband owned the bakery next to the shop, and they would always bring you the leftovers of the day. “Here, my love, it’s not that much, but hopefully, it is enough for a day.” She smiled gently. You opened the bag; it was a sandwich, a croissant, and a whole loaf of bread. “This is more than enough, thank you.” You said gratefully, setting the store ready for closure. 

You walked into your tired apartment building, greeting the tired landlord who was seated at his usual desk spot. He gave you a sad smile as you stood outside your brown door with an eviction note taped on it. They were increasing the rent, and you were already struggling to meet the current increase of the last one. You had to sell your bed in order to afford last month’s payment. You opened the door to your small yellow-walled studio. You put the bakery bag on the counter, grab the sandwich, and cut it in half, leaving the other piece on the plate. As you sat down with your sandwich, you noticed a pair of pants with holes on the left knee on the table. You shook your head and pulled out your sewing equipment. As you almost finished stitching the pants, you heard the familiar sound of the heavy steps of construction boots.

Eren entered the room, greeting you with a warm grin. “Man, I’m exhausted, Gold, but how was your day?” He asked, putting his yellow helmet on the counter. He has called you Gold since childhood, which you never entirely understood. You and Eren grew up as neighbours in the very same building. You lived in another apartment with your grandmother, and Eren lived with his parents. Life dealt the two of you shitty cards, and Eren’s mother was killed in a robbery gone wrong when you were only five years old. His father passed away from a heart attack when he was fifteen, and he had to drop out of school to find a job. Your grandmother didn’t have the financial means to help him, but she would cook him meals as often as possible. Unfortunately, that didn’t last long, as she passed away when you were sixteen. Eren offered you to move in with him so that you didn’t have to drop out like him. Mrs Johnson, who was your grandmother’s friend, helped you get a part-time job as a florist. You managed to finish high school, and well here you are. 

“Hello, Gold. Are you okay?” He asked, looking concerned. You jump a little as you had zoned out, I mean, how could you not? The construction job had made Eren quite built, he literally looked like a Greek God. “I’m fine, sorry. Just a little tired, that’s all.” You smiled while finishing the pants throwing it at Eren. “Thanks, you’re the best!” He grinned, caught it, and grabbed the other half of the sandwich. His smile disappeared the moment he came closer. He held your hand and stroked your finger with his thumb. “Don’t worry, I just cut myself a bit at work”, you smile, trying to ease the tension. Eren doesn't respond, his eyes are focused on the scar. “I will provide you a life where you don't have to take jobs that will leave you scars” he muttered. “Huh?” You said, looking confused. “Nothing..Hey, I brought a surprise!” He grinned, pulling out two bottles of cheap white wine. “What are we celebrating?” You smile, folding his pants. “The guys and I finished fixing the van! We are leaving for LA  by the end of next week!” He said excitedly, pulling out two plastic cups. You swallowed hard but tried to put on a smile for him, although your eyes were stinging. 

Eren learned how to play guitar from Armin’s grandfather at the age of fifteen. He owned an instrument shop and noticed that a couple of kids were interested in the instruments. It was first Connie who came in looking at the drums. Armin’s grandfather sat the bold boy down and taught him how to play the instrument. The second time Connie came, he brought his friend Jean. Jean was mesmerised by the beautiful black and white bass. Which after a few weeks, it became his best friend (after Connie, ofc!).

 Lastly, we have Eren, he was on his way home from work when he saw Armin’s grandfather struggle with some boxes. He offered to help, which the elderly man accepted. One of the boxes contained a black electric guitar. Armin’s grandfather offered Eren to try it out as he saw his green eyes glow at the sight of it. Weeks later, he introduced the three boys to his grandson Armin who could play both keyboard and guitar. The boys quickly became friends and started playing together in the evenings. Armin’s grandfather believed that it was better for the boys to be distracted from the crimes in the city, and what better distraction than music? The elderly man passed away four years later. From there on, the boys knew that they wanted to start a band and make it out of the city. They found an abandoned van that they spent a year fixing with the help of Jean’s mechanic background. The plan was to use the van to drive to LA and sleep in it if they couldn't afford a Motel. Now it being done meant that Eren would soon leave to follow his dreams. 

You took the cup, he offered you, “Cheers to you for making it in LA!” You said, smiling. “Cheers for the two of us making it in LA!” The Chestnut-haired man said, correcting you. “Us? As in..” 

“Would you think that I would leave you behind in this shitty city?” Eren asked, looking at you like you had stated something silly like the moon was made out of cheese. “Yeah, I mean…ehm”, you played with your fingers. The guys always referred to you as their fifth member. You weren't a direct member of the band, but you had sewed them a few pieces to wear when they’d do free bar performances. “I could never leave you behind, it’s you and me against the world. Like it always has been.” He grins, toasting his wine before downing it in one go. It warmed your heart to know that Eren would never forget about you. After finishing the bottles, the two of you are pretty drunk. “Eren, could you please play something for me?” You ask, batting your eyelashes.

You look so damn cute drunk. How could he say no? “Sure, what song?.” He says, picking up his guitar. “This Charming Man!” You say excitedly. You danced to Eren’s angelic voice, “Ah, a jumped-up pantry boy who never knew his place!” You shout, and Eren gets up and dances with you. One day, I will write you a song that will make you dance like that, he thought to himself.  The two of you danced like you had no care in the world, as putting food on the table was not an issue, as you weren’t surrounded by crime and death. 

The two of you lie in bed, dizzy and out of breath but happy. You turn your bodies to face each other. “Eren, did you mean it when you said that it was the two of us against the world?” You ask for reinsurance. “Of course I did, I can’t imagine any other woman by my side but you.” The alcohol in his system was exposing him. You smiled while massage his ear lobe. “Is that so?” You whispered, dying of happiness on the inside. He doesn’t respond but looks at you like a lovesick crackhead. Your cheek burned, and you turned your head to face the cracking roof in embarrassment. 

Eren cupped your cheeks, forcing you to face him again. You leaned into the warmth of his rough hands. “What am I to you, Eren?” Your lips were almost touching, and the smell of wine filled your nose. He leans in and kisses you passionately. His lips were a big contrast to his hands. You felt a needy heat growing between your legs, it seemed like Eren was reading your mind as he slid his two fingers under your dress. “Already wet for me?” He whispered. “Yes,” you whined.

 Eren removed your dress and underwear, and you hissed in the chilly air. Eren doesn’t break eye contact with your as he spreads your legs and gives your cunt a long lick from the bottom of your vulgar, covering his tongue with your sweet juices. “God, Gold…you…taste…so…good”, he whispered, diving into your cunt. “Ah, Eren” you moan. You were confident that your neighbour Eric on the other side of the wall heard you.

 All Eren cared about right now was to make you cum, to release you from all the stress from your everyday life. "'I’m gonna cum," you whimpered, realising all over his mouth. “Good girl”, he whispered, kissing you, letting you taste yourself. “Eren, can you please fuck me?” you asked pathetically. He flipped you on your stomach. He leaned over and growled in your ear, “You don’t have to ask me twice. Get on all fours,” and kissed your back. You did what he demanded, feeling shivers all over your body.

 Eren collected cum from your vagina and smeared it all over his veiny cock. He gripped tight around your hips and hissed as he was entering you. Eren pumped slowly back and forth, the air was filled with your moans as your pussy was getting used to Eren’s colossal size. “Fuck”, he moaned as he started speeding up, digging his finger further into your flesh. “Gold, fuck me back. Fuck your cock back, it’s all yours”, he growled. Being the obedient woman you were, you threw your ass back. “Harder” he demanded, spanking you. “Ah, fuck Eren”, you moaned as your arms gave up on you and collapsed on the bed. That didn’t stop Eren as he lifted your hips and placed his cock inside of you. “Fuck, your pussy feels good. Keeping this from me for six years,” he groaned, continuing fucking you. Your face was on the pillow, which was a good thing as you were a moaning mess. 

Your eyes teared up as you felt your second climax blossoming. Eren could tell as you clenched around him, “Give it to me, give it to me.” He growled, feeling you squirt all over him. “Gold, I’m not finished. Take this cock.” He demanded, filling the air with your whimpers and the sound of your skin slapping. You used the last energy to get on all fours again, fucking him back “Ah, fuck! You want me to get all out, too, all this fucking frustration. Fuck it all into you.” He groaned. “Yes”, you moaned, throwing your ass back. His thrusts became rigid and slow as he was filling you up. 

Eren collapsed on the bed next to you while catching his breath. He kissed your forehead before you went to the toilet to pee. You walked out to see Eren comfy in bed. You lay down beside him, and he wrapped his arms around you. “Eren, you never answered my question, " you said, turning to face him. I’m in love with you, silly. Always has been, and always will be.” He said, yawing.

[cozycryptidcorner]

Context for each one:

She told me this when I first moved in

Wasn’t just the apples. She had to direct him to everything on the list she gave him. On the phone.

I watched them walk past me in the kitchen and shut her bedroom door like 🧍‍♀️

Also told me this weeks into me moving in. Her ex wife would send her pictures of girls hanging off her during deployment. Her ex wife is the one who filed for divorce.

“I don’t see why we can’t still hang out and get a beer after this” she says. I straight up told her that I don’t want to be her friend, and that I don’t even know why she wants to be my friend, especially if she’s so bitter about splitting the cost of her 3 bedroom house 50/50.

Outside of work I don’t think she actually has friends.

Hey if she and none of her coworkers are on tumblr (she thinks it’s a shitty social media website) then is it really airing out her dirty laundry if no one knows who she is

[tropes-and-tales-archives]

Sonny Carisi: I Need a Place to Stay

WC: 1,645

TW: Fluff.

AN: This was based on the prompt "I need a place to stay." And it's also the first piece I ever published on this hell-site!

Fridays were rarely calm at SVU, but the stars aligned in just the right way that you and your team found yourselves in a lull.  Not that anyone was complaining – the week had been unusually busy, but nearly all of the cases were closed or ready for trial dates, and you and the other detectives finally had a moment to breathe.  It was late afternoon, and Liv pulled on her coat and grabbed her bag.

“I’m heading out now,” she announced to you and the other detectives as she strode across the floor.  “I’m taking advantage of the quiet and going to take Noah to that Lego movie.”  She smiled and gestured towards the door.  “I suggest you take advantage too.”

Your partner, Fin, immediately slammed his laptop shut and grabbed his own coat.  “I’m right behind you, Liv.”  He waved goodbye and disappeared with your boss on the elevator.

“I suppose it’d be nice to take Franny for a walk while the sun’s still out,” Amanda said.

“And to get a head start on the weekend,” you added with a smile.  Amanda had been doing amazing at her recovery from her gambling addiction, but you knew that she still loved the thrill of watching sports – especially any and all playoffs.  Tonight was game six of the American League playoffs between the Yankees and the Red Sox, and as a native Bostonian, you knew you were at odds with your fellow detectives.

“You got any plans?” she asked as she packed up her stuff.

You looked down at your computer screen and sighed.  “Not really.”

“Well, take advantage of the calm here before it’s gone,” she said as she walked out the door.  “You’re only young once.”

You waved her off with a smile and returned to your computer.  The bullpen was quiet except for you and Sonny.  The lanky Italian detective was furiously typing on his laptop, his brow furrowed at the screen.  You watched him furtively, taking in the sight.  His hair, usually perfectly gelled and shellacked into place, was a bit tousled, and a strand fell over his forehead into his eyes.  He had taken off his jacket earlier, and the sleeves of his white shirt were half rolled up, revealing his fine hands.  You fantasized about those hands more often then you wanted to admit even to yourself, and you felt your face turning red.

“Done!” Sonny exclaimed, closing his laptop.  “I’ve got every piece of paperwork finished and caught up.”  He turned to you and grinned.  His smile was infectious, and you found yourself smiling back.

“You about done?” he asked as he stood up from his desk.  “I’ll walk you out if you are.”

You ducked your head and blushed.  “Actually….” You started to speak and then stopped for a moment.  “I’m going to stay here tonight.  In the crash room, I mean.”

Sonny cocked his head to one side and narrowed his blue eyes.  “You’re gonna sleep here?  Why?”

“I need a place to stay,” you mumbled.  It was embarrassing – your building had a roach problem, and the landlord finally was going to fumigate the place over the weekend.  It wasn’t your fault, but you hadn’t made many friends since you moved to New York from Boston.  A handful of casual acquaintances, but no one close enough that you felt comfortable crashing on their couch for a few days.  You explained the vermin problem to Sonny and hoped he didn’t judge you.

He frowned.  “You can’t sleep here.  Those cots in the crash room are disgusting and uncomfortable.”  He looked at you a moment, his blue eyes searching your face. 

“Stay with me,” he said.  “My couch is super comfortable.”  He tried to read your expression.  “But only if you want,” he added, uncertain.

You thought about it.  On one hand, Sonny was right:  the crash room at SVU was disgusting.  The cot mattresses were stained with god-knows-what, and the paint was peeling from the walls and ceiling, leaving little green flakes all over everything.  On the other hand, you had a major crush on Sonny, and you handled it by being extra reserved around him at work.  You imagined the potential pitfalls of staying at his place for a few days and shuddered.

“We can order pizza and watch the game tonight,” he added, and that sealed the deal for you.  You nodded at him and grabbed your overnight bag from where you had stashed it under your desk.  “Let’s go,” you said with a tentative smile.

********

The subway ride was short, and Sonny was uncharacteristically quiet, making a little small talk.  He lived on a quiet street (for New York, that is), on a third-floor walk-up.  Ever the gentleman, he had taken your bag from you and carried it, and you followed him up the stairs to his apartment.  He hesitated when you reached his door.

“Can you wait here a minute?” he asked, shuffling his feet.

You nodded, and Sonny unlocked his door and disappeared inside.  Through the door, you could hear muffled thuds and thumps and his footsteps.  A moment later, the door swung open and he invited you in with a flourish.

“What was that about?” you asked as you walked past him.

The tips of his ears grew red.  “It’s been awhile since I had company over.  Had to make sure the place was presentable.”

You laughed and took off your coat.  “So you shoved all your Playboys under the bed and tossed your beer can collection in the trash?”

Sonny’s ears got redder, but he grinned.  “Something like that.  Anyway, I’ll give you the tour and then we can order something for dinner.  How’s that sound?”

“That sounds great, actually,” you replied.  “I’m starving.”

********

It was the fifth inning of the ballgame, and you and Sonny had put away an extra-large pizza and more beer than you cared to count.  You were both settled on the couch, Sonny’s legs stretched out and you curled up on the other side.  The Yankees and the Red Sox were tied up, and the teasing, which had started out tentative, had reached a fever pitch.

“I’m just saying,” said Sonny, “we got twenty-seven titles to….how many World Series have you won again?”

You scoffed.  “Maybe we don’t stack our roster with super expensive players.” Sonny laughed.  “That’s the whole point of baseball, doll.  To win!  If you hadn’t traded away the Babe and cursed yourselves…”

You blushed at him calling you doll.  “Who believes in curses at all, let alone sports curses?” you replied, hoping he didn’t notice your cheeks burning. 

He laughed again and took a swig from his beer.  You watched him out of the corner of your eye.  Sonny was usually the squad’s resident ray of sunshine, but you could see a definite difference between Work Sonny and Casual Sonny.  At home, his hair was tousled and messier, making him look years younger, almost boyish.  The lines that were forming around his eyes were relaxed, and his blue eyes lit up as he told you about his grandpa taking him to Yankee games when he was a kid.  He had changed out of his suit into worn jeans and a grey Henley, and his entire aura exuded a calm that made you forget your apartment situation and the fact that you were spending the night on your crush’s couch.

 You had changed into more comfortable clothes too, the crash-room appropriate outfit you had packed for sleeping in.  If you had known you’d be sleeping over at Sonny’s, you might have considered packing something other than your worn sweatpants and oversized tee-shirt…

 Your mind drifted off as the two of you watched the game.  Back and forth, the two teams stayed tied.  You finished your beer and set the empty bottle on the coffee table in front of you.  You felt a sudden chill and shivered.

Sonny saw, and he shot up from his place on the couch.  “Sorry!” he said.  “It can get a little cold in here in the fall.  The landlord likes to wait to fire up the furnace, I think.”  He reached past you and grabbed the blanket from the back of his couch.

“Here, take my blanket,” he said.  He didn’t wait for you to answer or take it from him – instead, he stood over you and covered you gently with the blanket, tucking it around you until only your head peeped out.

“There,” he said, satisfied with his handiwork.  Instead of returning to his place on the other side of the couch, he settled in beside you, wrapping one arm around your shoulder, rubbing you gently through the blanket.  “Better?” he asked.

You nodded your head, unable to form words.  Sonny kept his arm around you, and you cleared your throat.

“Thanks for letting me stay,” you said quietly.  “I don’t have many friends in the city yet.”

“It’s no problem,” he murmured.  He glanced down at you and smiled, his eyes as blue as the sky.  The beer had gone to your head, making it feel fuzzy and warm.  You closed your eyes and leaned against Sonny, taking in his warmth and the lingering smell of his cologne that you knew so well.  His grey Henley was soft under your cheek, and you could hear the steady thump of his heart beating.  The stress of the busy week drained out of you, and you felt yourself falling asleep. You felt Sonny shift slightly, pulling you in closer as he settled against the couch and adjusted the blanket around you.  You were startled for a moment as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, but sleep pulled you back under almost immediately.  You smiled as you heard him say, moments before you were asleep completely, “you have at least one friend here in the city.”    

[brokenpieces-72]

In and Out

Navigation

Just want to say thank you so much for your guys love and support on this series. I genuinely appreciate it. My request box is open and empty and I love getting requests, whether it’s AUs or something else. If you want to be tagged let me know.

Milena knocks on your old apartment door. No answer. She knocks again and still no answer. This was ridiculous, what was the point of this? You’re just some tagger running with some men doing who knows what. Honestly she wants to be going over more of the land deals and getting home and health inspectors into that neighbourhood as soon as possible. More evictions more chances to rebuild.

Milena turns to walk away when she sees you, stopping her in her tracks. You have your bag over your shoulder, wearing a hoodie with a leather jacket overtop. You’re wearing a cap you “borrowed” from Kyle, old jeans and gloves. Of course you also had your scarf on.

If you didn’t know who Milena really was you would be wondering why she’s here, but you have some guesses. Before approaching her you noticed her approaching your building. You’d caught a photo and asked for instructions from your friends. You have a small group chat with them but Price and Ghost were busy doing other stuff. So Kyle and Johnny were left to take charge. Kyle suggested hiding and waiting until she left. Johnny said to see what she wants.

Y/N: what do I say if she sees me?

K: Be nice.

J: mess with her!

The texts came at the same time. Then Johnny sent another.

J: Record it too!

Your phone is recording audio, as you simply stand there waiting for the socialite to start talking.

“Sorry do you know who lives here?” She asks you.

“Yep.” You say. There’s a pause as you just stare at her.

“Um, is the landlord here today? I need to talk to him about this apartment. I was told it’s going up for sale.”

“No it‘s not and no you weren’t.” You say with a slight smirk.

“I’m sorry?” She asks sounding irritated.

“Do you want to take a look around? Seriously it ain’t impressive.” You say walking up to her casually and unlocking the door. She steps back as if you were dog rushing up to bark at her. You step inside and hold the door open for her.

“Still occupied, sorry. But it’s the same as every other apartment if you’re interested in moving in. Come in I don’t mind.” You leave the view of the door frame and go to the kitchen, setting your bag down in the corner. Milena can do plenty, but this is your own personal turf.

“Want a drink?” You ask, opening the fridge, and your garbage. Good thing you stopped by to grab stuff, the last thing you want is a mushroom farm in your fridge.

“Coffee or something stronger.” she says, absently surveying your unit.

“Uh… sorry don’t really have… cider okay?” You ask tossing another expired container into the bin.

“It’ll do.” She says, sitting in one of the chairs in the living room as if it were her own office. You shrug it off and get her a can of cider. Oh shit you forgot you had those. Definitely need to take those back with you for a personal pleasure. Hopefully none of them liked popping boba.

“So uh…” you start as you close the fridge. “You trying to evict me? Like the homes down in the south east neighbourhood?”

Milena looks up at you with wild eyes as you hand her the drink as if you found her diary.

“I don’t know what you mean.” She says taking the drink, eyeing the tab.

“New manicure? Here.” You take the drink from her and open it. “So what’s up.”

“I came to give you an invitation to a party.” She says offering you an envelope. You take it and look it over before looking at her.

“How old are you?” You ask.

“Excuse me?” She says offended. Damn she was easy.

“Milena Romanova, realtor and socialite. You make a lot of money in real estate and land deals. Land deals that don’t land the same money you do. Must be good.” Milena looks ticked.

“Now you’re funding the police, making friendly donations and spending time with the chief commissioner.”

“What are y-“

“Just making small talk. A couple guys I know from the precinct told me you guys are dating.” You say reclining on your old sofa, as if it were a throne. Milena doesn’t know what to make of you. You are certainly…different.

“My love life is my own.” Milena states. You shrug. “The invitation is for an event, inviting a few large names from the city. I understand you’re an aspiring artist.”

“Something like that.” You admit. Hopefully she hadn’t seen your most recent work. It may or may not have involved her posing on houses with… unmentionables spilling out the windows.

“I believe this could be a great opportunity for you. I know plenty of large names and often have art showcased at open houses.”

“Not sure I have the money to afford a nice outfit.” You say.

“If you’d like I could buy a couple of your pieces to cover costs. Of course it’s your choice.” She offers. She stands without you giving an answer, and leaving the open untouched can of cider on the coffee table along with the invitation.

“I have places to be. I hope to see you there.” She says going to the door. Milena steps out but turns to address you.

“I should mention, the chief commissioner has been looking for you. I think he’d like to get to know you more. If you don’t mind I’ll let him know where he can find you.” And without another word, she shuts the door. The room is silent. All you hear is the sound of the carbonation from Milena’s open cider. You take the cider and take a swig before getting to work.

Then you hear a noise from one of the rooms. You keep your phone recording, and go to your bag taking out your gun. You keep it pointed to the ground as you get closer to the closed door. You put a hand on the knob before shoving it open aiming the gun at the intruder.

“You mother fucker!” You shout.

“I can explain.” Graves says.

“Like hell you can.” You say. “Also my bedroom, seriously? This is a whole new level of creepy.”

“Thank you I try.” Graves puts sarcastically. “I came to leave you a note, I assumed you’d return. I wanted to warn you about Makarov but… you just had tea time with Milena.”

“Hardly tea time, she didn’t drink anything.” You say. “She follow you?”

“I hope not. Just in case don’t leave for a few hours.” Graves says. You nod understanding. “Stupid question but why are you here?”

“Came to pick up extra stuff.” You say going around him and getting the duffle bag from your closet. You start packing, and your hoodie sleeve slides up again. Graves notices.

“Who grabbed you… or are you and the boys of the 141 getting clo-“ Graves stops the question after you glare at him. “Teasing.”

“…Nolan grabbed me. I don’t know his last name.” You admit. You haven’t told anyone else.

“Does Price know?” He asks. You shrug and focus on packing extra clothes, before going to the bathroom to grab some extra supplies. Graves is quiet.

“You gonna go to the party?” He asks.

“Haven’t decided.” You say.

“Let me know if you want a ride.” He offers. “Take it Milena hasn’t seen your recent work. Hoo boy that’s some slander.”

You look at him, incredulous. “You saw nothing.”

“I saw works of art, and have no clue where they came from.” Graves says raising his hands. You smile a little but he doesn’t get to see it.

“How are you doing?” Graves asks. “You eating okay? Sleeping well?”

“The guys take good care of me.” You say coming back to the bag with a couple of items. You look around the room to see if you’re missing anything else.

“He’s getting close.” Graves says. “Makarov keeps asking me about you, and I’m giving him what I can without putting either of us at risk.”

“I need a favour.” You admit. Graves raises an eyebrow. “There’s a raid planned. The… a gang went to the docks a while ago trying to take down a drug shipment, but the drugs were protected. I know when the next raid will happen, and if you’re there you can look further into it.”

Graves stands there, admittedly surprised. You were giving him a lead, one to Makarov sure, but one that could get the others in shit.

“Send a tip to the station, make sure it comes to me and only me ya got that.” He instructs. You nod.

“Thank you.” You say. Graves gives a nod, and it’s an awkward silence. Graves looks at your wrist again.

“He grab you anywhere else?” He asks calmly. You rub your arm, and Graves sighs. Without warning he holds your shoulders, before pulling you into a hug. It’s oddly nice. A comfort. You can’t talk to Graves much but right now, you feel like you could spill your guts and he would listen.

“You stay safe kiddo.” He says quietly, not expecting you to hear it. You do. And you just squeeze a little tighter. He lets you go, looking down at you. Graves is about to say something but stops himself.

“Chill here, call a ride, go home.” He says. You nod and after a final good bye he walks out into the night.

Milena came over to Makarov’s home, greeting him with a kind smile.

“They’re all sent out?” He asks.

“Of course.” She says.

“Now we wait.” Makarov says. “The pieces will fall where they need to.”

Taglist: @yourlovely-moon @kaoyamamegami @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @sans-chara @1mommyrose4ever29 @tai-the-gemini @yuki2129 @whitetiger846 @graystorm444 @chibiduck @reaperxxxxzz @danielle143 @sobbingnshtting @cringeycookies @cryingpages @smitten-haematite-quartz @dcnocap207

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

aita for getting an unhoused dude kicked out of my building?

long time reader first time caller. this happened a few years ago but i still feel mildly guilty about it. i (21 at the time, nb) lived in an oldass new england inn that had been subdivided into two halves, side A and B, rent a room style. i lived with 9 other people, all girls or nb, at the time. sides A and B were accessible to each other through the attic or basement, but otherwise to pass from side to side one would have to go through a locked outdoor breezeway. each room didn’t really lock and anyone living in this building would have pretty easy access to anyone else’s room should they want to. this is fairly important

during i believe november, an empty room in our house on side A suddenly contained a random man. i personally lived on side B, but we were all close friends with each other throughout the house. when this guy appeared, the folks on side A got pretty freaked out, as we had been told a new girl would be moving into that apartment in a week, not a man. no one on side A wanted to talk to the new guy as they felt too frightened, and as i was kind of operating as the ‘man of the house’ at the time (tough tall dyke privilege), i said i would talk to him for them.

when i met him by myself he seemed like a nice guy. tall, maybe 6’4”, white and presumably cis, athletic build. he was fine but i could see how the side A residents were intimidated. however, when i talked to him, he said he was staying in this room because his friend (who lived there over a month ago and had moved out) had told him he could crash there. we were not in contact with this previous resident; presumably he had made copies of his old keys. new guy said he was looking to stay indefinitely until he could find a new place. we parted ways fine enough and i informed my roommates of what he said.

they were not pleased about his ‘indefinite stay’ plans and reached out to our landlady, who decided to come that day and talk to him as well. she asked me to accompany her as she was a little lady and also scared of big men (understandable) (i’d like to say as a footnote fuck landlords but she was an exception, lovely mom-like figure who kept our rent low as hell)

when meeting with new guy with the landlady, she did all the talking and i stood mutely as a witness and a bodyguard, i guess. she told him she didn’t want to kick him out, but she had a new renter coming in a week and if he couldn’t get out by then they would have a problem. now here is where he started to get verbally aggressive. his frustration was very understandable and landlady was mostly patient with it, but when he started calling me an “ignorant bitch” and accusing me of trespassing (given i lived on side B, not side A), she snapped, said not to talk to me like that, and told him he had until the end of the day to clear out. ultimately, he refused to clear out that night. the next day around noon landlady came with the cops to help him leave. he wasn’t arrested or anything, just escorted out after packing up.

ultimately i feel pretty guilty about this because if it were entirely up to me i wouldn’t have snitched on him, just warned him about the new renter coming. but because my roommates felt very unsafe i felt i had to put on my bad guy boots and support them and my landlady; but if i hadnt been there as “bodyguard” maybe things wouldn’t have gotten aggressive? i have no idea what happened to the poor guy afterwards, i saw him walk down the street away from our house and never saw him again. i hope he’s doing ok now. so was i the asshole?

What are these acronyms?

[internet-ink]

Would you write a fic where LW and reader have been best friends for years, both play for arsenal. They’ve both been in relationships until this year. Reader thinks she’s straight until she realises she’s in love with her best friend

Confessions

Thank you for the request anon!

I haven’t wrote anything like this before but I hope you enjoy it :)

This past year had been a difficult one. It started out great - I was with a wonderful guy, I was doing well at Arsenal, and I had my best friends surrounding me.

Then it all went to shit.

In the space of a week I had caught my boyfriend in his bed with another girl and my childhood dog had passed away.

This was ten months ago and now there was another issue arising. My landlord had decided that now would be a great time to evict me. One night I had a few people round and apparently someone had complained about the noise. He said that he had past complaints about the noise from my flat which just wasn’t true but I really couldn’t be bothered to argue with him.

I had nine days to find a new place to live. Originally I had planned to just find another place to rent, however with the days going by and having no luck finding anything I was beginning to worry.

“Y/N! Pass the fucking ball!” Katie shouted, interrupting my thoughts. I snapped out of my day dream and quickly passed the ball to her.

“Sorry.” I replied.

She ran over to me and put her hands on her hips in a sort of ‘you better tell me what’s going on’ way.

With a sigh, my shoulders deflated as my mind went back to all the issues in my life. “I’m just stressing about this whole finding a place to live thing. You’d think in a big city like London there’d be at least somewhere that was available. But no…anything that is available is just ridiculously expensive and out of my budget. Like what am I meant to do? Live on the streets? If my stu-”

“You could stay with me?” A voice from behind me interrupted my rambling, and a smile took over my face as I saw it was Leah.

Leah and I had been close friends since I joined Arsenal three years ago, I mean we were literally inseparable from the first day of training. She was there for me through everything that had happened this year and I was there for her while she was going through her break up with Jordan.

Up until a couple of months ago everything was normal between us but then I started to get butterflies whenever she gave me a hug which then turned into feeling awkward whenever she’d hold my hand - everything that felt normal before now turned me into a complete mess. I had come to the realisation last month that I was in love with her…with Leah.

“Uhh…em. Do you have the room?” I stuttered, mentally kicking myself for acting so awkward around her.

“Yeah, Jordan moved out a couple of months ago so I’ve got a spare room.” She shrugged although I could still see that the mention of her ex-girlfriend’s name hurt her.

I scratched the back of my neck out of awkwardness before replying. “Only if you’re sure.” I said while scrunching my face up.

“Y/N we’ve been best friends for years, of course I’m sure.” She smiled. My heart sunk at the words ‘best friends’. That was all we would ever be and it hurt to think of that.

“Okay well if you insist.” I giggled.

———

“Is that all you’ve got?” Leah asked after I brought all the boxes with my stuff from my car and into my new house. There was a significantly smaller amount of things with me now than what Leah was used to seeing at my old place.

“Uh yeah, I donated some stuff. Decided to start over.” I laughed. Leah took a box and carried it into my new room, which was across the hall from hers.

“Well this is you. Feel free to decorate obviously…just don’t go knocking down any walls.” She deadpanned making me uncomfortable before she started to laugh at me. Leah was always like this.

With a roll of my eyes, I started to unpack the first of my boxes. As I turned to place my fake bonsai tree on the bedside table I noticed Leah staring at me with a small smile on her face, snapping out of it when she noticed I was looking at her.

“Takeaway pizza for dinner?” She asked.

“Yup. Plain cheese?” I replied. She nodded with a chuckle before turning to leave the room.

I spent the next hour or so unpacking everything and decorating the once plain room. It felt weird knowing that this room once belonged to her ex, I wasn’t entirely sure if they did sleep in the same bed while they were together, but I did know that this room was Jordan’s from the previous times I had come over. It just never once occurred to me that I would be living here with the girl that I had a fat crush on. How was I going to survive this? How would I manage if Leah ever brought home another girl or guy? I didn’t know how to feel.

“Y/N! Pizza’s here!” Leah called up to me from downstairs. I sighed to shake the doubts from my head before walking down to where Leah was waiting in the living room with one big box of pizza.

With a confused look on my face I opened the box, my confusion only growing as I confirmed that there was indeed only one pizza. “Where’s the other one?” I asked.

“Oh, I only ordered one. I thought we could share.” She shrugged as she sat on the couch and patted the cushion next to her, telling me to sit down.

My heart fluttered at the idea of sharing a pizza with her. “Cool. Sounds good.” I smiled, internally groaning at how weird I sounded. Leah returned a small smile before reaching over to take a slice.

Pull yourself together, it’s a pizza for Gods sake.

“You okay?” She asked with her hand covering her mouth to prevent the food from showing. I nodded before taking the seat that she had previously pointed at.

“Sorry, just in my own head.” I giggled as I grabbed a smaller slice than the one Leah had, letting out a small moan at the taste of it. Leah whipped her head to look at me with wide eyes as I blushed at the thought that I had actually done that out loud. “I’m so sorry, but holy shit where do you get this? This tastes better than most pizzas I’ve ate.” I exclaimed.

Leah laughed before shaking her head and wiping her hands with a napkin. “This chippy down the road. Discovered it when I was drunk and I’ve been loyal ever since. I can’t say I’ve ever moaned at the taste though.” She spoke, still laughing her head off. I rolled my eyes before taking another slice.

“Shut uppp.” I groaned. “It just slipped out.” I sighed, still feeling rather embarrassed about the whole situation. “Wait…you kept this delicacy from me this whole time?” I questioned, my mood now going from extreme embarrassment to confusion and slight betrayal.

“Guilty.” She put her hands up like she had been caught red handed before the both of us folded into each other in laughter. During our antics, Leah’s hand made its way onto the top of my thigh, making my breath hitch and my laughter halt. As her laughter stopped too, I looked up to see that she was already staring at me with a nervous look on her face and her eyes half closed, focusing on my lips.

“Leah?” I whispered. The tension in the room grew as the distance between us shrunk until I could feel her warm breath on my lips. My heart rate rapidly increasing as her eyes fully closed and her lips moved closer so that they were millimetres away from my own, my chest finally felt like it exploded as I finally felt the weight of Leah’s lips on mine.

I wrapped my arms around her waist and she wrapped hers around the back of my neck as her tongue licked my bottom lip, sighing as I opened my mouth wider and felt her consume me. We broke apart as the need for oxygen overcame us.

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

I panted as Leah looked intensely into my eyes, making me feel more nervous than I had ever felt. “Are you alright?” I finally asked as she had been quiet for quite some time.

She leant forward so that her elbows were resting on her knees and her head was in her hands. Feeling immediately off, I reached forward with her and placed a comforting hand on the back of her shoulder.

In all honesty I thought it would’ve been me that was like this if we ever kissed.

“What was that?” She finally asked, leaning back into the couch and staring at me again. I felt my heart sink as she asked that. She sounded annoyed.

“A kiss.” I deadpanned.

“Obviously.” She rolled her eyes. I let out a breath as I mentally prepared myself for the possible rejection that could come from my next statement.

“I like you.” I replied, now looking anywhere but Leah as I didn’t want to see the current look on her face. “No…I love you. I have for awhile - well, a couple of months anyway.” I continued.

“Really?”

I frowned as I stared into the wall behind Leah. “Yeah. I’m sorry.” I said.

As I was getting up, a hand on my knee prevented me from moving anywhere. I took a deep breath as I looked at Leah, not seeing the disgusted face I though I would, in fact she had a huge grin on her face.

“I love you too.” She stated, making my world feel like it crumbled. She actually liked me back? I sat back down next to her and looked at her with wide eyes.

“Really?” I replied.

She laughed and leant in closer to me. “Of course I do, I thought I made it obvious but maybe not? Ever since that night when you held me while I was drunk crying, not complaining once about the snot that I had gotten on your favourite jumper. I love you, Y/N.”

“I think that’s the most romantic thing someone has ever said to me.” I smiled, noticing the crinkles on her nose as she smiled and the small freckles that dotted her nose.

“Shut up and kiss me.”

[anthemofgvf]

Behind Closed Doors: Jake Kiszka x Reader Fanfiction

Part Two

description: when your best friend asks for a favor, that being having his twin move in with you, you're hesitant. you've never really liked him, but you are struggling to meet your rent, so you oblige. who knew with time that you would become more upset with his presence, or upset with the fact you have underlying feelings for him that you don't want to face?

-the masterlist for this series-

trope: enemies to lovers x roommates au!

warnings for this series: alcohol and tobacco usage, explicit content (18+, minors dni), angst, swearing

word count: 6.4k+

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

You had dialed your work as soon as you shut your door, standing far away from the door as possible.

"Brewology Coffee House, this is Sydney." Your manager said into the phone.

"Hey, Sydney, it's y/n. Was wondering if you guys needed any help today or if I could come in and shadow you?" You ran your fingers over your mouth.

"Hi, y/n! I thought you were taking today off to help your new roommate move in. Everything okay?"

"Yeah, but I've already finished helping him get settled, so the rest of my day is free." You told her.

For a moment, there was silence from the phone.

"Well, we're fully staffed today so unfortunately you won't be needed. You can come in and shadow for me Friday night if that's okay with you!"

"Yeah, that sounds good. Still alright with me coming in tomorrow?"

You had strictly limited yourself to working doubles on four out of the five days you usually worked. Your manager was concerned about overworking you, so you always had to ask and make sure she was alright with it.

You'd recently been promoted to acting manager, as she was leaving the store in a few weeks and would have you replace her and run the place. That would mean more money and responsibility for you, along with taking the weight off your shoulders of working double shifts nearly every day.

"Yeah, but I want you to just come in during the morning. We've got a few trainees showing up tomorrow evening and I already have Justine and Mary lined up to train them. You'll be able to meet them Friday night, though!"

"Alright, yeah, sounds good. Thank you." You pressed your lips together with a nod.

"Of course, have a good night at home!" Your manager said to you and hung up the phone.

You sighed deeply, running your hand over your forehead and sliding your phone into your pocket. You were now left with a full day with Jake. You were given the unfortunate opportunity to interact with him a bit more, rather than staying locked up in your room and ignore your new roommate.

So, with the slightest bit of convincing yourself, you stepped outside of your room to see Jake setting a paper off to the side and dropping the pen.

"Looks like I have work off for the day." You clasped your hands together as you took a few steps forward towards him.

Jake swiveled around on the chair, standing up with a, "Hmph", and grabbing the papers off the island. He made his way over to you and held them in front of you with a blank face.

"That's everything. Can go ahead and give these to the landlord now." He said.

You grabbed the papers. "Thanks. You heard me, right? About having the day off."

"Oh, yeah, I did. But you'll be working tomorrow, right?" He asked you.

"Only in the morning. My manager doesn't want to overwork me - stuff like that."

"Huh," he nodded, "then I guess it's just me and you for the night then." His lips curled into a small smile.

"Unfortunately." You sighed. "But I think I'm going to head down to the landlord's apartment and give her these." You shook the papers in front of his face.

"Don't want me to come meet her? I'm sure she'd-."

"No, I can handle it myself, thanks." You walked past him, throwing on a pair of sandals you left by the door and shooting him a wave.

With these few minutes you took to walk over to the landlord's place, you had to come up with something to keep you and Jake busy, or better yet, you busy. You didn't seem to have much in common with him, so the night was bound to grow awkward as it went on. You ran through different ideas of things in your head to do, but they were minimal and didn't stick.

Your landlord had a small mailbox outside of her apartment, intended for lease papers, bills that were paid by check or cash if needed (she was quite lenient with payment methods) and other things intended for her.

After walking back to your apartment, which was on the first floor, along with the landlord's, you had entered your apartment to see Jake sprawled out on the couch. He was intently focused on his phone, but his mind seemed to be rather blank.

You rummaged through one of your kitchen drawers, finding the spare keys you had in there left from your previous roommate.

You placed them on top of the island. "I left your keys on the counter."

He gave you a short hum in response but didn't acknowledge your presence.

“Icebreakers?” You spat out.

He turned his head over the couch.

“Icebreakers?” He repeated.

“Yeah, so we could get to know each other a bit better considering we now live together.” You huffed a laugh out of nervousness.

You shut the door behind you and slipped off your sandals before making your way to the opposite end of the couch. You sat patiently, waiting for him to say something to you.

He had kept his eyes on you from the moment he turned his head to see you at the door. His phone was flat on the armrest, one arm rested on top of his phone while the other laid above the couch cushion.

“You're not going to leave me alone until I play along, huh?”

You shook your head with a smile, which caused him to sigh.

"Alright, fine." He exhaled. His hands were folded on his lap, and he began to watch his thumbs circle each other.

You sat on the couch, opposite of him and turned to him crisscross on the sofa. The bit of uncomfortable silence had surrounded you and him, and you decided to straighten your posture to release any tension you felt.

"Would you like to go first?" You offered to him.

"Well, you were the one that suggested the game." He threw his hand towards you.

"Okay," you sighed, "what's your favorite color?"

He chuckled. "That's what you want to know about me? My favorite color?" His lips rested into a teasing grin.

"You're the one that wanted me to go first!" You rolled your eyes. "What, do you have a better question?"

He clicked his teeth and took a moment to think of something to ask you. "What's your biggest fear?"

"Starting a bit deep then, huh?"

"Isn't that the point?" He folded his arms. "Answer my question."

"You didn't answer mine." You said in a faux aggravated tone.

He exhaled, looking off to the side before meeting your eyes. "Red. Now-."

"I figured it was black, considering you seem to wear it the most." You remarked.

"Okay..." He trailed off with an odd expression, as if he found it weird you had noticed that about him. "Well, you're wrong. Are you going to answer my question, or are we going to keep talking about colors?"

You pressed your lips together. He was growing upset, and in a guilty way, it satisfied you a bit. With his seemingly careless attitude, he never showed signs of letting things bother him. So, getting under his skin a bit always felt like a win to you, as childish as it may sound.

"My biggest fear is probably dying. Second is spiders." You nodded.

"Have you ever heard the phrase, 'life is short'? Does that scare you?"

"You're annoying, you know that?" You shook your head. "What's your biggest fear then, since you don't seem to be scared of anything?"

"Losing family and friends. It's inevitable, but I'm definitely not looking forward to that day."

"You have a good relationship with your family then, huh?" You resituated yourself, pulling your legs to your chest and wrapping your arms around your knees.

"Yeah, I do. I mean, I've always been super close with Josh. But I guess that just comes from us being twins. We're kind of supposed to be close." He gave you a shrug. "What's your dream job?"

"I'm surprised you're asking a good question." You huffed a laugh through your nose. "I've always wanted to own my own business. A bakery, to be specific. I used to bake all the time with my mom when I was little, and sometimes my work lets me bake some treats for open mic nights on the weekends. But I just haven't had the time to do it in a while."

He hummed. "Why haven't you started your own business then?"

"Too scared of failing, I suppose. Maybe I'll go to school and get a business degree, but it seems unlikely." You shrugged.

"Are you not good at baking? Is that why you're scared of failing?"

"No," you rolled your eyes, "I'm more concerned about not making any profit. Putting myself into a deep hole of debt." You rested your chin on your knees.

"I'd like to be the judge of that - of your baking, I mean."

You quirked your eyebrows in confusion. Whether it was playful banter or not, he seemed to be acting kind towards you. It was foreign territory, but you didn't mind it. Although, it did make you wonder when the arguing would start, or when your face would start to burn out of annoyance. But there was no point in putting your energy into those negative thoughts. Things were going well, and you wanted to keep it that way.

"Are you some sort of food critic?" Your lips curled into a small grin.

"I dunno, maybe. I like cooking - always have, so."

"I would've never guessed." You chuckled. "Is that a hobby of yours?"

"Yeah, I guess. I don't think it counts as a hobby when I do it all the time."

"Does that mean I'll be getting homemade meals from now on?" You widened your eyes.

"Eh, I usually cook for myself. If you start being a bit nicer to me, maybe I'll consider it." He shrugged. He stood up from the couch with his palms pressed flat on his thighs.

"I think me giving you a place to stay is nice enough. A good meal would be a great housewarming gift." You said in a singsong tune.

He turned his head over to you. He opened his mouth to speak, but quickly shut it into a small smile and left you in the living room alone. If all you could get out of him were a few small facts, you considered the small conversation a successful one.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

While Jake stayed locked inside his room, you took the liberty of having your day off to meet Josh for lunch. You debated the idea of whether or not to invite Jake, but keeping the conversations short with him were the only way you figured you two could tolerate each other.

While you sat outside at the small restaurant, sipping on your water cup, you checked your phone. You had left your phone number on the dry erase board that sat on your refrigerator door for Jake in case of any emergencies. You didn't expect him to text you, nor did you expect him to see it while you were out. You were waiting from a response from Josh, who did text you letting you know he was on his way. But that was about 30 minutes ago, and "Josh time" was very different from normal time.

Josh was a bit late, per usual, so you ordered the both of you a house salad and waited patiently for his arrival.

"Sorry for running late. Lost track of time." He said in a rushed tone, taking a seat and immediately grabbing the glass of water that sat in front of him.

"I'm not surprised, but 20 minutes has to be some sort of new record." You giggled.

"I'm always beating my records, what can I say?" He shined a toothy grin. "How's living with Jake so far?"

"Surprisingly, no complaints. It started a bit rocky, but I think we're getting somewhere good. Learned a bit about him, and he was actually acting nice to me. Not really talking about himself like he usually does."

"Dare I say that I told you so?" He wiggled his eyebrows at you.

"Whatever. This is only the beginning to a very long journey." You widened your eyes to emphasize your words.

"Well, what did you learn about him? Anything good?"

"Nothing too interesting, other than that he likes cooking. Never expected that." You shrugged.

"Oh yeah, he's big on cooking. You know, when we were little, he used to stay up all night watching cooking shows?" His eyes lit up as he spoke about his brother, boasting about him and his "hidden" talent. "He's actually very good at it."

"Well, now I'm curious: what other secret factoids about him are there that I don't know about?"

"There's a lot, but I think it's his place to tell you all those things. I think that's kind of the point when you're getting to know someone." He cocked his head to the side. "And besides, I'm sure you'd want to know what he dislikes so you can bother him and drive him out of your apartment."

You laughed. "I'm not that mean. What kind of person would I be if I made him feel miserable, which would cause him to act the same way towards me? If I want to keep on tolerating him, I have to keep our conversations sweet and short."

Josh began to speak, but the waitress came out and brought you both of your salads. He thanked her graciously and picked up his fork.

"He may seem a bit quiet, while I seem like the talkative one. But, once you get to know him a bit better, he holds a pretty good conversation." He stabbed a piece of lettuce with his fork and shoved it into his mouth.

"You seem a bit more excited about the living arrangement than me." You said and began eating.

You two continued to talk over lunch, about any upcoming events in his life and yours. You didn't have much, of course, but you always enjoyed hearing about the various projects Josh was working on. Picking at his brain was always satisfying to you, and while you loved talking, you preferred to listen while he spoke.

He offered to stop by the apartment, but you insisted on him heading home instead of making the short drive over to your place. With the small progress you were making with Jake, you figured keeping him by himself for a short period of time would allow the progression of yours and his's relationship to continue down a path of positive growth.

You entered your apartment to see grocery bags lined up on the counter. Jake was exiting the small pantry you had, going into another bag and not noticing that you had entered or choosing to ignore your presence.

"Restocking my fridge and pantry?" You said.

He didn't respond to you, rather kept his continuous motions of unloading different foods into the fridge.

"I didn't know if you wanted to go out to lunch with me, so sorry for not asking." You spoke again. You tried to keep your tone light, despite how his ignorance began to bother you.

"Did you go out with Josh?" He kept his eyes on a small clear bag of fruit he pulled out of a bag.

"Yeah, it was just a small lunch. We try to meet up once a week, if not twice." You nodded.

"Something going on between you two?" He raised his brow, opening the fridge and placing the assortment of fruits in a small drawer.

"It's not like that - it never was. We're just really good friends."

He shut the fridge door and continued unpacking different foods and spices. "If you say so."

"I'm serious, Jake. We've always just been super close." You said with slight aggravation in your voice.

"How long have you known him for?" He threw away the grocery bags as he talked to you.

"For about a year or so. We met at a concert, actually. Why are you being so curious?"

He nodded with a hum, placing his hand on the island and leaning his full weight onto it. "Just making conversation. You're so defensive." He teased at you with a shrug. "Am I not allowed to get to know you anymore?"

"You're getting to know me and Josh's past. That's a bit different." You pointed at him. "Try asking me questions that pertain to me, not your brother."

"Maybe another time." He tapped his hand on the counter and began to walk away in the opposite direction. "I don't see the point when you're not opening up."

There it was. The stinging sensation that started at your neck and ran to your ears. You were waiting for it to arise; the unfortunate conversation that would tank the seemingly good path you two were on.

"Opening up? I'm making the effort to try and get to know you so living with you isn't unbearable. I'm sorry that I was getting bothered with you trying to make assumptions about me and Josh." You dug your finger into your chest.

He swiveled on his heels to face you. "Then why'd you let me live with you then? It's not even been a day and you've deemed the living arrangement as unbearable because I was just kidding around." He threw his hands up. "Were you that desperate for a roommate?"

You opened your mouth, struggling to speak. Was there a point in continuing this argument and digging the knife deeper into your guys' relationship? Everything began to look hopeless from this point on, and your doubts once again consumed you.

He decided to speak up before giving you a chance to utter anything. "Think you should try and be a bit grateful for the way things turned out instead of regretting your decisions." He grumbled at you with squinted eyes.

He left you in the kitchen and walked into his bedroom. Once the door was shut, you exhaled a deep exaggerated sigh. You circled around the space you stood in with your hand placed on your forehead. Your emotions flamed into your system, gripping tightly at your insides and burning your entire body. You didn't just want to storm into your room and sit in your frustrations, so you chose to allow yourself to run a bath in the connecting bathroom to your bedroom. Hopefully, this would bring you relaxation.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Wrapping your damp body in a grey towel, you stepped out of your bathtub and began searching through your dresser drawers for some comfortable clothes to wear for the night. The apartment was quiet, and for a moment, you were at peace. As in, you forgot Jake was right next door, and you weren't actually alone. The faintest smell of food cooking hit your nostrils, causing you to perk up. It was around dinner time, and maybe Jake had cooked something for the both of you.

Your door flew open, and you immediately clutched your towel against your figure in case you weren't as covered up as you thought. Your heartbeat rang into your ears, with your body tensing up to see Jake in your doorway.

"Do you ever knock?" You groaned. You shot him a stern look, then began to pull out a pair of sweatpants from your drawer.

"You never listed that as one of your rules, y/n." He leaned against the doorframe with folded arms.

"That's an unspoken one. It's a privacy thing, Jake. I mean, what if I was indecent?" You set the grey-washed pants on top of your dresser.

"Well, you weren't. But it won't happen again." He threw up his hands in defense, then folding them again.

"Alright, now that we have that cleared, can you get out? Please?"

"Fine," he leaned off of the doorframe, "you're a bit angry tonight, aren't you?"

"You scared the shit out of me, so I'm a bit tense. Do you blame me?"

"Did you forget that I live here now?" He stepped into your room.

You watched his movements. He didn't come over to you, but instead decided to wander around your room that he had yet to discover fully. The new environment seemed to intrigue him, but that could be him playing the role in trying to get under your skin once again.

"I tried to. I miss the silence." You turned around to see him holding a picture frame that sat at your bedside. You immediately walked over to him and grabbed it out of his hand to place it back in its rightful spot. "But, if you would please-."

"Is that your family?" He pointed to the picture.

You flicked your eyes down to see you in the middle of your parents in the photograph. You were about sixteen in that photo, with shiny teeth flashing into a smile. Your brother was next to your father, while your little sister was hugging onto your mom. "Yeah, that was during a trip we took to Hawaii." You began to notice the visible tan that you worked on, accompanied by your bright, burned red cheeks from the unforgiving sun. You let yourself remember the moment, surrounding yourself in the tropical background that was captured in the background. It was a memory that you always were fond of.

"How old are your siblings?" He pointed at your brother and sister.

"My brother is 17, and my sister is 13. I'm the oldest." You nodded.

You tore your attention of the photo and met Jake's eyes immediately. Something you quickly learned with him is that if you concentrated hard enough, you would forget you were talking to him, in the sense that you never thought he'd care about someone's life other than his own. Although, now remembering it was him who stood before you, you were filled with that gut feeling of irritation. It was something that you were unable to stop, and you weren't quite sure why you couldn't push it away. But with his body mere inches from yours, you chose to break the proximity and walk to your closet behind him.

"Are we done playing 20 questions? I'd like to change, now."

"Excuse me for trying to take your advice." He turned his body towards you. You flicked through your shirts to find one comfortable enough for the night.

He began to stride out of your room after you kept your silence, but as soon as he reached the door, you spoke up. "Did you cook something?"

He sighed, turning around to you. "Yup. Hungry?"

A faint smile hit your lips. "Made enough for me?"

"Oh, no. Was just wondering if that's why you asked." He smirked at you. He grabbed the door handle, giving you a wave with his fingers and shutting the door softly.

You threw your head back and blinked up to the ceiling for a moment. All that progress for nothing, you thought.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

You shot up from your slumber to the sound of silence filling the air. You checked the time in case you had missed your alarm only to find you were early by 30 minutes. What had woken you up at 7:30 in the morning?

And then you heard the wailing of a guitar, barely muffled by the thin walls that divided yours and Jake's bedroom. With an aggravated huff, you threw yourself out of your bed and stormed to Jake's room.

You knocked loudly enough for him to hear over his guitar, waiting a few moments for him to answer.

"Come in!" He yelled.

You flung the door open with squinted eyes. The morning sun covered your sight, and you brought the back of your hand to cover the blazing light shined onto your face to see Jake sitting on the edge of his bed.

"Can you keep it down a bit? Especially in the morning? You woke me up before my alarm for work was supposed to go off."

He pulled his pic out from his teeth and placed it in his fingers. "Told you to invest in a pair of earplugs."

"I shouldn't need to wear them to sleep because you decide to turn your amp all the way up for the neighbors to hear." You said. "If you read the papers you were signing, you'd know that quiet hours end at 8 AM, which it is not."

"You're just a ray of sunshine in the morning, aren't you?" He pulled his eyebrows together.

"Turn it down, please." You pressed.

He widened his eyes at you for a moment, then turned the knob on his amp to a lower volume.

"Thank you." You said in your best polite tone. "Why are you up so early playing anyways?"

He sighed, standing up and setting his guitar down into a stand he had set up in the corner of his room. For a moment, his figure covered the sun, and you were able to see his bare back, along with the plaid drawstring pants that hugged at his hips.

He turned to you. "Just woke up early, I guess. I like playing in the mornings to start my day. I've got a gig coming up, so I always like to make sure I'm targeting my weak points and fixing them before I get on stage."

You nodded. "Well, you can play a little bit quieter. Don't they have headphones designed to plug into amps?"

"I don't have a pair." He scratched at his head.

"Well, maybe you should invest in a pair." You lightly mimicked him. "I'm leaving for work in about an hour and a half. So, do what you want with that information."

You shut the door behind you and left to your kitchen to start on breakfast.

You quickly made yourself toast with jam, not quite examining the new products that filled your fridge. You decided to take a look when you got home, but your main priority was to just eat and wash the exhaustion off your body.

With your extra time on hand, you allowed yourself to take a longer shower than normal. Feeling the hot water trickle down your body as you scrubbed your hair with shampoo and conditioner, then turning your back to the showerhead to allow wash it all out. Relaxation overtook your body, and although that was a telltale sign that you weren't helping yourself wake up, you didn't care to dismiss the hot water and make it a bit cooler. The steam coming from the shower and fogging up the mirror in your bathroom was the perfect aroma for you as you washed your body clean and stood for a few moments to soak up just as much time as you could without wasting it under the water.

You made sure to lock your door as soon as you got out of the shower and stepped foot into your bedroom, then began to get dressed. You were thankful with how laid-back your coffee house was, which allowed you to wear a black sleek skirt and a tight white top with nonslip shoes. You went light on your makeup today, only covering up any blemishes on your skin and layering your lashes with mascara.

You checked the time on your phone, and you figured it wouldn't kill you to be early to work. Your hair was blow-dried and up in a tight ponytail, so you considered yourself ready enough and left without saying a word to Jake.

You saw Stacie at the counter, talking to your manager and turning her head over her shoulder to see you.

"We've got a lot to talk about, don't we?" She said with a sweet smile.

"Lots." You widened your eyes.

After you clocked in, greeted your manager and tied your small apron around your waist, you walked to Stacie and grabbed her wrist.

"I don't know how to win with him, Stace. There will be instances where everything is fine, having a good light-hearted conversation. And then, annoyance just builds up in my body and we start to argue. It's not like we're just teasing each other, it's more like siblings fighting over nothing. I just don't get it."

She bit back a grin. "It's only been a day and he's that bad, huh?"

"Well, I mean it's not terrible. Just...hard." You sighed. "But I'm going to stay hopeful and consider the positives over the negatives."

"So, you've made some progress? Well, that's good!" She nodded quickly with a smile.

"Barely." You leaned your hand onto the counter.

"Well, like I said, it's only been a day. I'm sure with time you guys will grow a beautiful friendship." She exaggerated with her hands.

"Ha, ha. We'll see. My hours will get cut as soon as I become manager because I'll be getting paid more to work, so no more avoiding him because I have to be here." You threw up your hand. "But I guess if he's living with me, then I should be able to tolerate him more than I do now."

"Well, what kind of progress did you make with him? Learn anything interesting about him?" She wiggled her brows.

"He likes cooking and he's close with his family. That's pretty much it. Oh, and his favorite color is red."

"How'd you learn that his favorite color was red?" She giggled.

"I asked him to play a game of icebreakers after I took his papers to the landlord. I didn't know what else to ask him, in my defense." You pressed your hand flat on your chest.

"What interests me most is that he's a cook. That makes any man a bit more attractive." She pointed at you.

"His personality cancels anything out that might make him slightly attractive. Josh told me that he was a different person when you're alone with him, and right when I think I can believe that he becomes the same person I've known."

She walked away from you to the coffee grinder. "What about starting over?"

"What?" You turned your body in her direction.

"You know, saying, 'hey, why don't we forget about our past and redo our first impressions?'" She shrugged. "It's not a bad idea, y/n."

"Maybe I should give it a few more days before I tell him he needs to reintroduce himself to me. I'm a firm believer in change, you know."

"You say that, but I think you're quite set on the fact that Jake will never change his ways."

You rolled your eyes. She was right. "So, from now on, I'm changing my mindset on him. Does that sound good to you?"

"Well, it benefits you, so yeah, it sounds like a plan. Try a breathing exercise or something next time he gets on your nerves and keep yourself cool and collected. I'm sure he feeds on your anger."

You scrunched your face at her choice of words. "That's one way to state it. He just reminds me of my little brother, always getting on my nerves."

She turned to you with a cup of coffee, placing it on the counter and pushing it out to a customer who sat at one of the barstools. "Then," she looked to you, "change your viewpoint on him. He's your roommate, not your brother."

You shrugged. "Yeah, I suppose so." You released your words with a sigh.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

You got off of work a little after lunch hour, so you weren't surprised to see Jake sitting at the island in the kitchen with an empty plate.

He lifted his eyes to you. "I was just about to call you."

You gave him a confused look. "Why?"

"Nice sentiment of you to leave your phone number on the fridge by the way," he nodded towards the dry erase board, "but I was thinking about grabbing a cup of coffee."

You set your purse onto the island after slipping off your shoes and walked over to your cabinets. "Promise me you'll never come visit me while I'm working."

He chuckled. "Why not? Are you embarrassed or something?"

You began to fill your glass with water from the fridge. "Because I don't see a point in you coming to my work for coffee when there are a ton of other places you could go to."

"Well, what if I want to visit my roommate hard at work?" He leaned over his plate towards you. "I wouldn't want to miss an opportunity to see you in that little outfit." He pointed at your work clothes.

You tugged your skirt down after setting your cup of water down. "Shut up. Your actions are usually filled with malicious intent."

"What kind of guy do you take me for? I'm harmless." He placed his hand over his heart.

You rolled your eyes. "Sure, but you annoy me. I'd like to have a bit of peace and quiet while I'm at work, since I won't be able to get it in my own home anymore."

He grabbed his plate and walked over to the sink. "Is this about me waking you up? You still hung up on that?"

You pressed your tongue into your cheek. Deep breaths, you thought, be more approachable.

"I would just like an apology, that's all. I guess I overreacted a bit this morning. I'm not much of a morning person."

He chuckled as he placed his plate into the dishwasher. "Nor am I. I like staying up late. Don't usually wake up early." He shrugged. "I'm sorry, though, for waking you up. I'll be a bit more mindful of you next time."

"Good to know you're thinking of others for once." You said with playful sarcasm. "And thanks for apologizing."

"You're so very welcome, sunshine." He said with a coy grin.

You groaned at the nickname. "Don't make that a thing."

"I think it's got a ring to it. And it's a bit ironic considering you're not really a ray of sunshine."

"Oh, and you are?" You picked up your glass.

He pretended to be in thought for a moment, lifting his chin up and pressing his lips together. "Yeah, yeah I think I am. I mean, I'm a bit more enjoyable to be around than you are."

You scoffed a bitter laugh. "You hold yourself on a high horse, you know that?"

"Well, I prefer to be confident in myself than not. Is that so bad?" He looked at you with slight confusion.

"It becomes a bad thing when you appear to be vain." You took a sip from your water and began to leave the room.

"Was that your first impression of me? Vain?" He called.

You exhaled deeply. "Yes."

You continued your steps towards your bedroom, but that didn't stop Jake from talking.

"I remember meeting you. I didn't think you were too bad. Thought you were quite nice, actually."

You turned on your heels with both hands wrapped around your cup. "Do you still think that?"

"No," he said with a grin plastered on his face, "you're aggravating."

"That's because I was annoyed with you boasting about how much of an amazing guy you were. Those kinds of things don't impress me." You nodded your head at him.

"Really? And here I thought you were head over heels for me." He teased at you with squinted eyes.

"You're funny, I'll give you that." You laughed.

He walked from the island, making his way to you with his hands shoved in his pockets. "Are you being nice to me?" He said with playful shock.

"Soak it up, Jake. Me being nice to you is going to be very rare. I still don't like you." You quirked your brows.

"Well, then I guess I'll take your very rare compliment with gratitude." He stopped in front of you. "You'll have to come around someday if you want to make living with me less 'unbearable'."

"On second thought, I think I'll just continue being bitter to you, you know, since you seem to thrive on annoying me." You cocked your head to the side.

"You might be right about that." He smirked. "But I find you somewhat difficult, so pushing you over the edge is entertaining to me."

You rolled your eyes. "And I’m the difficult one?"

"You know you didn't have to agree to this," he motioned between the both of you with his fingers, "but you did. I wasn't eager to live with you either. But I chose to be the bigger person and suck it up because in the long run, it benefits the both of us." He gave you a faint shrug. "Are we done talking about this now?"

You exhaled deeply. You wanted to push back at him, eat him out with all the anger that was built up in your body. But what was the point in being stubborn? What made you more frustrated was how true his words are. You didn't have to let him move in with you, but you did because it would help you out financially and rid you of your constant fatigue. You didn't want to pack up your things and downsize, because after all, you were attached to your apartment. You loved how it was spacious yet felt like a cozy home. And, at the end of the day, Jake was just merely a guy crashing in the room right next to yours.

You didn't need to continue the conversation any longer, so you turned away from him as a silent response and walked into your bedroom.

After shutting the door behind you, you set your water cup on your bedside table and plopped into your firm mattress. It was hard to change your mindset on Jake, despite your optimism. You couldn't force him to be a different person, so you'd have to do the same thing as him to keep yourself sane: suck it up, and let things be the way that they are. If you were unable to see him in a different light, then so be it. But that's no reason for you to act out in immaturity and make him feel miserable in his new home.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

-part three-

series taglist: @jakekiszkasmommy @anythingforjtk @gold-mines-melting @twistedmelodies @ageofhearingloss @classicsneverdie @lmaooharry @raviolilegs @mydarlingdanny @iheartjakekiszka @edtvdf @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @gvf23 @flo-gvf @madneedshelp @carlyfleet @pinkunicornsandbluecows @joshysgirl @jasminesworldd

other tags: @songbirds-sweet @sacredjake @mountain-in-springtime @ignite-my-fire @gvfsstardust @jakesguitarsolo @fallonfatality @digitalcalamity @demolitionndannn @lipstickitty @lexii-nv-c @joopsworld @gvfpall @hellowgoodbye @writingcold @loverleaverslayerbeliever @stardustcatcher @absolutely--mental @hippievanfleet @haileygvf @gretasfallingsky @dont-go-home-without-me @beckahvanfleet @threadthatssacred @indigofallingsky @audgeppp

[bluelancess]

Midnight Blooms | Elriel AU part 1/?

Sports romance, college AU.

Summary: When Elain is told by her father, a ruthless politician, that she is to marry the son of one of his closest friends, Lucien Vanserra, to assure her father’s win on the next election, she has no other choice but to agree. What she never expected was her convictions being tested by a tall, devastatingly beautiful black-haired hockey player who moved in right next door. And if there was one thing Elain was certain of, was that Azriel posed a dangerous threat to the previously dormant desires roaming inside her. And she needed to stay far, far away from him.

Tags: forbidden love, arranged marriage, forced proximity, modern setting, slow burn

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Read on AO3.

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Chapter 1

I never saw you coming

ELAIN

I never thought the house where I’ve only lived for a year would become the place I’d end up calling home, but here we are.

It’s a two story brick structure, with four bedrooms and two bathrooms. The kitchen is big enough for me to spend dead moments baking, and discovering new recipes, the living room is open, and gorgeous, with a somewhat high ceiling, a chimney and big windows that showcase the back patio beautifully. My favorite thing, no doubt, is the garden. The one in the back to be more exact. It is the main reason why I fell in love with this property last year when my sister Nesta, and I were hunting for a place to live during the school year. 

The big patch of land was pretty much dead. 

The landlord said he didn’t have time to waste planting flowers or trees, and laughed at me when I mentioned the immense potencial this place has. Right now, is unrecognizable from how it was when we moved in. I have a little vegetable garden at the far right corner, the newest addition, it has been a pain on my butt to get the flimsy vegetables to grow, but I think I’m going in a good direction. 

Right below the windows, there are planters with my favorite flowers, when some of them get to big to share the space I move them into either the soil along the sides of the wooden walls separating this property from the ones beside it, or I give them their own special little planter and distribute them along the backyard's sitting area. It depends on my mood, really. 

Anyway, I haven’t been here in two months, since last semester ended, and summer break began. Father has us stay with him during vacations, and holidays, and although I wanted to sneak out and come check and make sure my flowers were nice and watered, he didn’t allow it. Good thing I decided to ask Mrs. Wade to help me during the months I’d be away. Being the sweet old lady she is, she agreed in a heartbeat, only demanding I bake her some of my special chocolate chip cookies once I returned. 

I’ve been anticipating coming back here so much, that feeling absolutely nothing when I do, wasn’t really what I was expecting. 

Guess it has everything to do with the silly, little fact, that I’m getting married in six months.

Twenty-six weeks. 

A blink of an eye, in wedding planning time. 

Even worse considering I don’t even know the man I’m supposed to marry and spend the rest of my life with. 

Father and his dreadful ideas you can't refuse. 

“We should call the police,” Nesta says, sitting angrily at my side by the breakfast table, although her eyes remain glued to the little kitchen window, it has an excellent view to the house on the other side of the street. “Look at them! They totally sell drugs.” 

She crosses her arms, and furrows her thin brows, her mouth is slanted on a grim pout. I blink, rapidly, trying to make sense of her words. I have no idea what she might be referring to, but Nesta has a reputation of hating everyone and everything that crosses her path, so I don’t take her words very seriously. 

“Sure,” I reply, bringing my cup of tea to my lips for a sip. It’s cold, and doesn’t taste as good as it usually does. 

How long have we been sitting here in the kitchen? We got back here at lunch time, and we've been cleaning and setting things up all afternoon. It feels like just seconds since I boiled water to have a nice cup of tea and relax a little, but considering my cup is still full, and mostly cold... I have a habit of drifting too far into my thoughts and having trouble coming back. 

“I’m serious, Elain.” She insists. “It would be just our luck to end up being neighbors with…” she points at them with a firm and accusing finger, “jerks like that.” 

I look out the window, and my lips part when I see the reason of my sister's fury. 

Three guys. All tremendously tall, broad shoulders, dark hair, tattoos covering their tan skin. All of them, shirtless, wearing low rise sweat pants, laughing and playing around like little kids on the front yard, bottles of beer in their hands. 

“Who was the owner of that house, again?” Nesta asks, still not turning around to look at me. “Didn’t our landlord mention he knew them? Maybe he can get me their number, I’m sure a call would solve this.” 

“I don’t see the problem,” I say and she lets out a tiny, frustrated groan. “They’re just guys. It might be nice to have someone our age living near us, for the first time in forever.” 

“You say that now, but when you can’t sleep because of the noise they’ll make throwing parties… then you’ll agree with me.” 

“You like parties.” I point out. 

“Not when I want to rest.” Nesta points out. "You're so unbothered because your bedroom isn't the one looking out into the street." 

Her bad mood makes me smile a little. What can possibly be bothering her so much? She loves male company most of the time.  

“Are you sure that’s really the problem here?” 

“What is that supposed to mean?” Now she looks at me, with liquid fire in her eyes at the accusation. I giggle. She might think she is hiding her true feelings well, but I know her better than she’d like to admit. She's spent all summer away from men because father would be furious if he found out one of his daughters is sleeping around, the tabloids would go crazy if it got leaked to the press, and he'd probably cut her allowance off. Which is why she behaved. 

But father is not here. And if some guy is stupid enough to not recognize my sister as the eldest daughter of our soon to be governor, then it is fair game for her. 

“What are you guys talking about?” Feyre asks, coming into the kitchen wearing a knitted sweater and denim shorts. 

“Nesta is drooling over those guys.” 

“I'm absolutely not!” Nesta says, standing up to point towards the window, moving the think, embroidered curtain to a side, to show Feyre the show. “I’m just saying that they don’t look like the kind of guys you want to have as your neighbors. They probably cook meth in the basement.” 

Feyre’s mouth opens and her eyes follows the three muscled man like a hungry beast following their prey. When she notices this, she shakes her head and takes a step back, awkwardly walking towards the fridge to retrieve a chilled bottle of water. 

“They’re fine… I mean, they don’t look like meth dealers,” she says, and clears her throat. “How come you guys never mentioned you had such hot guys living only a couple feet away, huh?” 

“Because we didn’t.” Nesta says, looking out of the window again, I’m pretty sure she’s giving them her signature death stare. “The house was empty last semester.” 

Feyre shrugs. 

“I don’t see the problem.” She brings the bottle water to her lips, peeking through the window once more. 

“That’s what I said.” 

“You two are too naive.” Nesta says, and then in a flash, her back straightens, and her shoulders tense. “Motherfucker.” She mutters, shaking her head from once side to the other so violently, the braid on the top of her hair looses a bit. “I know who these idiots are!” 

“What?” I ask, standing up from the table, to peek at the window with them. Feyre is pretending not to be as intrigued as she is, and Nesta is just spewing curses. “Who are they?” 

“The fucking hockey players, you know, the Night Beasts. Won the hockey tournament last year, or whatever it is called.” She says, and right as the words come out of her mouth, one of the guys, the tallest one, with shoulder length dark brown hair, half of it put up on a messy man bun, looks straight at us, the mischievous smile in his face only growing. “Is he looking at us?” Nesta lowers her voice as if she spoke a little louder he might listen, and the three of us freeze in place. 

“Can he even see us?” Feyre asks. 

“The window is glass, of course he can see us, Feyre.” 

"I meant from that far." 

And then, after a beat, the guy blows us a kiss and Nesta seems to me fuming at the ears. 

“Cocky bastard,” she says, closing the curtain and grabbing our arms to get us away from the scene of the crime. “That’s it. I’m kicking them out.” 

“You can’t kick them out, it’s not your house.” Feyre says, leaving the water bottle on top of the breakfast table, looking at me with concern. Neither of us really understands exactly what has Nesta so riled up, but she’s not listening to reason right now, and she most definitely won’t stop until all the anger boiling inside her disappears. 

“What are you going to do?” I ask, following her with quick steps towards the main entry of our house. She rapidly puts on some shoes, fixes her braid, and storms out the house with a very scary aura surrounding her. 

“Should we go too?” Feyre asks at my right. “She might kill them.” 

“She won’t kill them,” I assure her, not sounding sure at all. 

“Hey, you assholes! This is a family neighborhood.” We both hear her scream, and come to the silent agreement that yes, we should probably go stop her. Feyre moves faster than I do, crossing the threshold in three long, clean steps. 

“Hey, there!” The tall guy says, waving a hand at us. “Maybe you should get binoculars next time, my abs are more impressive up close. That is, if you don’t have the balls to actually cross the street, our door is always open.” 

“Don’t be a jerk, Cassian.” One of the guys say, he’s the shortest of the three, not less handsome, his torso also covered in dark ink, hair short, and perfectly combed. He looks friendlier than his friend. As soon as I join my sisters, I notice that Feyre’s feet are glued to the floor, her stare unmoving from the new guy’s face, and when he notices my sister, his eyes glisten at the attention, his smirk grows, and then he has the audacity to wink at her. 

Feyre’s cheeks turn rosy pink, but she rolls her eyes.  

“This is me being polite, Rhys,” Cassian replies, not breaking the eye contact with my sister, and hey, props to him for having the balls to face Nesta, not many have survived. 

“Ladies, I’m sorry my brother here has the manners of a brute,” Rhys says, walking slowly to the side of the street, right where their front yard ends. 

“I couldn’t care less about your brothers manners,” Nesta says. “This is a residential street, parties or loud noises after ten p.m are not allowed. And you don’t look like the kind of guys that live a very… quiet life. So, pack your shit up, and find somewhere else to live.” 

“Nesta…” Feyre warns. 

“Wait,” The Cassian guy says, pointing at my sister with one of his fingers. “I remember you.” 

“What?” Nesta says, and I approach my sister until I’m standing next to Feyre. 

Cassian laughs, throwing his head back as he does, like he can’t really contain it. “Don’t play dumb, now.”

“You don’t know me.” Nesta states as a fact. 

“Oh, I know you,” he shoots back. “Very well, I might add.” 

Nesta arches a brow. And the tension between them is so strong, it’d probably give you whiplash if it cut in half. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“The alley behind Elysian the last week of February? Ring any bells?” He teases her, and I chew the inside of my cheeks, watching their word war is like waiting for a grenade to explode. 

Now it makes more sense why Nesta was so riled up by the presence of these men. She would’ve never admitted it to us, though. Not if we tried to pry the truth out of her with the worst kind of torture. She’s closed off like that when it comes to the men she dates, or sleeps with. Dating is not really on her dictionary. 

“Seems like you have it committed to memory,” She teases him back, and Feyre looks at me surprised, biting her lower lip to keep herself from laughing. “Can’t say the same, I don’t waste time remembering guys who are… underwhelming, to say the least.” 

Cassian’s confident smile disappears in a blink. 

“You gave me a fake phone number, you know?” He tells her, like he’s wanted to say that to her for months, but never had the chance. 

“Oh, I did?” Nesta feigns innocence. “Guess I couldn’t be bothered to remember my real one.”

Feyre chuckles beside me, then clears her throat. “We should go back inside.”

“I’m done here, anyway,” Nesta says, turning around on her heels. But before she can fully go back to the house, she says to them, lifting a single finger in the air: “One transgression to my rules, and I’m calling the police.” 

“You’ll be joining in on the fun soon, gorgeous, don’t worry,” Cassian tells her, his confidence is back in place, like Nesta never gave a life threatening punch to his ego. 

“In your dreams, asshole.” 

“Believe it or not, my dreams come true all the time,” he tells her. “Mostly the dirty ones.” 

Nesta rolls her eyes, and goes back inside of the house, closing the door with a bang. 

“Sorry about that, my sister can be… a little intense.” Feyre says.

Cassian looks over Feyre's shoulder, like he's hoping to get one final glimpse of Nesta. “Just how I like them.” 

“Cass,” Rhys warns and Cassian shuts his mouth, then Rhys turns his attention to feyre. “We won’t bother you. Much.��� 

“Oh, don’t worry about us,” Feyre says, also turning back around to go inside the house. “It’s Nesta the one you want to keep… content.” 

“Will do,” Cassian replies, fast as lighting, like he’s accepting a challenge and he hasn’t even realized it yet. 

“Good luck with that.” 

Feyre takes a couple steps towards the porche, and knocks on the door. Nesta completely forgot we were outside with her when she decided to do her grand exit. 

I’m about to follow my sister, when a new, rich, and velvety voice that we hadn’t heard before reaches my ears. 

“We are throwing a little get-together tomorrow night,” he says. I look up at the sound, and my mouth dries at the sight of the man in front of us, my breath catches and my heart pounds so fast, all I can hear is the frantic heartbeats. High cheekbones, and a boyish grin on his face. Short dark hair like his friends, but a little messier. I hadn’t noticed him before, standing on the porche, like hidden by the shadows. Now, he’s all I can see. “You should come.” 

“Azriel is right, you should come. It’ll be something small, I promise,” Rhys says, also walking back towards the house, putting one hand on top of the shoulder of his friend. “A one time thing, even. To kick start the year. I’m sure your sister won’t mind if it’s a Friday, correct?” 

Azriel. 

He looks down at his sneakers, but there’s a tiny smirk on his lips, the right side of his mouth lifting up slightly more than the left. Then his eyes look up again, directly at me, and my knees buckle, like they want to give in at the heavy weight of my body. God, he’s beautiful. 

Beautiful, like it should be forbidden, illegal, to be. 

Men like him don’t exist in real life. They just don’t. 

And it is so unfair, so unfair, that he happens to live so close. 

“Will there be booze?” Feyre asks, and Rhys smiles at her. 

“What kind of booze do you prefer?” 

She takes a couple seconds to answer, chewing on her lower lip, gloating at the way the guy can’t keep his eyes off of her. 

“I really like wine.” She replies. “Good wine, though.” 

“I’ll get you the best.” 

She smiles even broadly. 

“Great,” Feyre knocks on the door one more time, and it opens with an angry force, I chuckle when I see Nesta walking away with heavy and furious steps towards the stairs. “I’ll bring my boyfriend.” 

And then Rhys is not smiling anymore. 

“Come on, Elain.” She tells me and I giggle. “Wanna order pizza for dinner?” 

“Sure.” I turn around and wave at them. “Goodnight.” 

Rhys and Cassian grunt, twin annoyed grimaces in their faces. 

But Azriel... he smiles at me. 

And then waves back softly. 

---------

hi! thank you so much for reading! I've been wanting to write an ACOTAR fanfic in a modern setting for so long, and i finally have the time (and the ideas) to do it, so i really appreciate you taking the time to read it! I will be updating it as i go, i hope to post regularly, so we'll see!

i´m also posting this on AO3, so it'd be great if you guys could go support me there as well! <3

ps. i always say this, but english isn't my first language, so i apologize if there are any mistakes<3

[tideswept]

So I'm in trouble but... also inching my way out of it. Precariously.

Yet I still need help.

I've covered the last few months in two other posts, so forgive me for a brief summary before an update.

In September, my mother killed herself when I told her I wanted to move out. She had B(borderline)PD and it'd gotten bad. I couldn't take it anymore.

Unfortunately, I'd quit my job to take care of her after a series of hospital stays and to also secretly do her job for her, as it paid better, and we could survive on it as long as I kept my head down and just did the work.

So overnight I lost my mother and my job. I had no savings because her self-destructive behavior was stealing to buy herself things, and by then she'd stolen my identity and tanked my credit.

With the help of a friend, distant family members, and you guys, I managed to stay afloat a little longer searching for a way to survive. There's no social help available where I live; my last hope was to plead with my aunt to allow me to sleep in her garage while I worked and saved money, paying her what I could in rent, and she told me I wasn't a part of her family.

By then I hadn't been able to pay November's rent, but the landlords kindly did not evict me until this week. With the aid of a friend I've moved temporarily into a motel, and my luck is turning around because I've found a room to rent at a decent price! There's finally a way forward instead of the constant wall I kept slamming into.

I'm terrified. But for once I'm also hopeful. It's a new city, strangers I don't know, and I intend to find a job immediately, but I need a little help. I'm afraid to lose my chance if just one thing doesn't go right. Any money I receive will be spent to pay my phone bill (so that I can apply to jobs), bus fare (more job applying) and a little food. (energy for even MORE job applying)

All I can offer in return for any generosity is my fic writing services, and I will gladly do so. (Okay, well, I could also alpha/beta for you and make moodboards but honestly, I'm not sure anyone wants that. Unless... anyone want a tarot reading? no? okay, I'll shush.)

I'm uh, not ashamed to admit that I'm starting to get overwhelmed and have likely rambled on enough, so I'll just drop the links and say thank you for reading this far. Truly--thank you for listening. It means a lot to me.

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CashApp: $dkbauer

(Ah, one final thing; If you donated before this and want a fic, please poke me! You can remain anonymous if you like, ko-fi will let you message me and my anon asks are also open, just pop in your receipt with your request so I know which donation was yours.)

[blouisparadise]

Here are some amazing bottom Louis fics that were posted or completed during the month of October. We hope you enjoy this list. Happy reading!

1) Leave My Heart Open | Explicit | 1,587 words

Note: The main pairing is Louis/Zayn Malik.

Louis is gorgeous. There’s no room for doubt. But he’s looking at Zayn like he wants to devour him, and Zayn would be kidding himself if that kind of intense focus didn’t scare him a bit.

2) Attention | Mature | 3,629 words

The fact that Harry said "I want you ready for me" not only meant that she had to look pretty, but it was more about the fact that he needed her lubricated, dilated and preferably without underwear to make things easier. Louis was aware that maybe she was in for some rough sex in her husband's office after so much provocation and that was just what she wanted.

3) You Wrap Around Me and You Give Me Life | Explicit | 4,778 words

Louis cockwarms Harry in his office and decides that he's bored enough and begins to ride him without his permission. Harry has other plans to pleasure his bratty boyfriend.

4) Naughty Little Elf | Explicit | 5,231 words

Harry is busy and Louis is supposed to be helping him. He's not.

5) Pilot | Teen & Up | 5,279 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

“We have fifteen minutes.” Harry glanced down at the watch on his wrist. “How fast do you think my tongue can make you come?” Still against the wall, Louis felt a shiver run from the back of his neck down his spine. In three years walking on moving planes, he'd never had such zero control over his legs. At least not until now.

6) White Noise Frequency | Explicit | 5,574 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

In the dark, something crashes. Louis stirs, barely opening his eyes as he gropes across the bedside table for his phone. Muffled cursing is coming from the hallway, probably about ten feet away from the bedroom door. Allowing himself the tiniest of smiles, Louis yanks the phone free from the charger and slips out of bed, leaving the blankets pooled on the floor. He doesn’t bother with shoes or clothes, moving silently across the floor in his bare feet. Eyes open now, adjusting to the shadows in the dark room, he waits behind the door, crouched down. There’s no more noise. Louis waits, breathing slowly, steadily. He’s awake now, fully alert. He’s got a loose grip on his phone, and he doesn’t glance down at the screen no matter how much he wants to. This really shouldn’t be happening anymore. Three years, two new houses, an upgraded security system and actual money to throw at the problem means this definitely shouldn’t be happening anymore.

7) Wearing You Like Clothes | Explicit | 5,908 words

Louis rushes over to his door and hopes against hope that maybe he got lucky and it didn’t lock this time. He jiggles the handle, but no dice. Louis groans. Great, so he’s locked out and it’s after hours so his landlord will be difficult to reach. He does have a spare key, but it’s with his best mate Niall, who is conveniently out of town this weekend. And it’s not like Louis can go anywhere to ask for help. Not when he’s only wearing knickers.

8) Spiders Don’t Fly But Gods Do | Mature | 6,655 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Louis Tomlinson is an underpaid photojournalist in NYC. He leads a pretty average life, getting shots of town heroes, dodging flirtatious remarks from old coworkers and being the Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man. But what happens when a sex god comes to crash in his apartment?

9) Say You Love Me | Mature | 7,496 words

Harry and Louis are friends with benefits, but Harry wants more. Louis is scared because of his last relationship not ending well. Will Louis let his guarded heart go free or will he keep it locked up and away forever?

10) Always Had That Heart Of Mine | Mature | 7,804 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Louis is nesting, though he won’t admit to it. Between being ill, the stress of uni, and near drops, the only thing keeping him afloat is Harry’s scent. The fact they don’t get along is neither here nor there.

11) The Knothead Neighbor | Mature | 8,058 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Prompt 3: Neighbors AU, preferably ABO! Harry works evenings/nights (maybe like a surgeon something that requires him to be gone for long hours) and has a cat. The cat has a little kitty door at the back so that it can explore and such. Louis just moved next door and the cat seems to always end up at his door. Eventually, Louis lets the cat in, as he’s new and he’s feeling quite lonely. They become fast friends, so much so that the cat prefers to stay with Louis rather than go home. Harry gets concerned that the cat starts to stay out all day/night so he eventually leaves a note attached to the cat’s collar with its name and phone number. Louis texts him telling him he’s his neighbor and not to worry, the cat just likes to hang with him as it might be lonely. Harry gets pissed that this stranger is stealing his cat so he goes to confront Louis and tell him to stop stealing his cat. Of course, as soon as he sees Louis, he falls in love with him and the rest is history. (If ABO could be cute that both Harry and Louis like to cuddle with the cat because it holds the other’s scent)

12) Could Start A Cult | Explicit | 8,750 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

He lowers down the top that Louis is wearing, successfully unclasping his nursing bra as well, letting Louis’ tits bounce at the sudden movement. Harry massages both breasts to stimulate the milk flow, and he can feel his cock hardening inside his pants.

13) Please, Don’t Say You Want Me | Teen & Up | 9,320 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Prompt 496: ABO/royalty AU. Where Omega Prince Louis is forced to marry alpha King Harry by his father for the benefit of their kingdom. After the wedding, Harry lets Louis know that he didn’t want a mate and to not expect a relationship from him. Since they are already mated, Harry has to officially reject Louis’s omega to break ties. This practice is so taboo that he doesn’t know the omega has a maximum of a year left to live after rejection. As time goes on, the omega gets weaker and weaker.

14) Sugar Water | Explicit | 9,454 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

When his most familiar begins to feel all too unfamiliar, Harry finds out what it means to love like real people do.

15) You Know It Ain’t Fiction, Just A Natural Fact | Not Rated | 13,312 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

“Look, Lou” Harry whispers, “I can’t do it, and as much as I like having dinner with you, and hanging out, I think we should just do it without the tutoring part because I am not smart enough for school.” “That’s bullshit,” Louis answers quickly, “what do you like?” he asks, “I mean, other than football and asking me stuff about my family. There must be something else you’re good at.” “I play football and fuck, Louis. That’s it.” Louis definitely doesn’t flinch at that. He does not.

16) Only You And You Alone (Can Thrill Me Like You Do) | Explicit | 13,346 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Harry wrinkles his nose as he fights Louis' dress to get his hands underneath it, panting deeply. "Alpha..." "I'm still hungry, Louis," he claims with a severity that is derailed by his ragged breathing. "I thought I heard you say you were going to take care of everything."

17) Stockholm Syndrome | Explicit | 13,584 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

"That's it!",Harry screamed in his face, "I'm done with you! I'll take you to your home, where you belong, where your father will be waiting for you with a belt in his fucking hands!" He could not go home. He was finally free. He will do anything to not go back to that place. He desperately and uselessly tried to free his hands, stumbling on his feet. "NO! No! No please, please, please don't take me back, please! I'll behave, I'll listen to you, I swear! Don't take me back, Harry! Please! Alpha!!" By now tears were flowing down his cheeks. Screw his stupid brain and his stupid heart. He was too good for the world. He was too hopeful to think that Harry was any different from his father and his brothers. It was true, all the alphas were the same. All with their disgusting need to control and breed and ruin the life of an omega. To take and take and take, and never give anything back. It seemed as if expecting goodness from the world was a crime and he was the biggest sinner.

18) I’ve Got Something To Confess, I Keep You In My Pocket To Use | Explicit | 16,770 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

"You made Harry Styles practically swoon over you, admit you’re beautiful to basically the world, he asked for your number and you said no. Like, you have to be joking.” Bella tsks as she sits up straight, grabbing Louis’ computer off his lap and putting it off to the side. Louis moves to reach for it, sighing in defeat as he leans back against his pillows. “You know how it goes with those sports guys. They’re just after having a good time before they have to go to the next city and play another game and find another person to swoon.” Louis explains. “It just wouldn’t have worked and I’m too busy right now.” Louis shrugs. “Too busy to fuck Harry Styles?” Bella asks with a raised brow. “Yes, even too busy to fuck Harry Styles.”

19) Swap Me For Your Shadow | Explicit | 16,829 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

“…I’m just … so in love with him.” Louis blinked. What??? This hushed revelation from Harry came like a gunshot- loud - and made his heart plummet. He could hardly process it, as he stood there freezing in the wind, hidden behind the balcony door. Harry was … Harry was in love?? Since when?? The shock and confusion that had fallen over him like a bucket of ice was slowly washed over by a feeling that ran hot and acidic. Somehow, it gripped around his lungs tighter, more cruelly. Harry was in love with someone….and it wasn’t him. If Louis thought being in love with his best friend was a knife that continually twisted into his heart before, it was nothing compared to when Harry started to go around talking about having fallen for someone else.

20) A Package Deal| Explicit | 18,875 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Louis knows Harry hasn't fucked and run because he can hear him talking quietly in the next room. He shouldn't care enough to get up and find out who he's talking to—he knows cops get phone calls at all hours of the night and day—but Louis has always been too curious for his own good. He pushes himself up off the couch and pulls on his underwear, which he finds several feet away, folded in a small pile. Harry must have done that while he was still asleep. It feels a little silly to be tiptoeing around in his own home, but Louis does it anyway. When he finally peeks around the corner to the kitchen, he sees Harry kneeling on the floor with Biscuit, and that alone is enough to disrupt Louis' usual heart rate. When he realizes that Biscuit is allowing Harry to scratch around his ears while he mutters to him quietly about what a pretty boy he is, well, okay. Now Louis might need a defibrillator. For the past three years, it's just been Louis and his one-eye orange cat, Biscuit. When Louis starts sleeping with Harry, the aggravating cop stationed at the ER where he works, he has no reason to think anything will change. Unfortunately, Harry and Biscuit have other plans.

21) Wild At Heart | Mature | 21,006 words

Louis had never left his fathers farm. At age 16, he knew nothing about the outside world. Louis’s world was just peaches, his family, and his friends. As a punishment from his father, Louis has to help train the new farm workers who happen to be no good city boys. Louis gets tangled up in their antics and tangled in the sheets with Harry Styles. A messy bet leads to drinking, drugs, and sloppy kissing. But lying only gets you so far when your with the Tomlinsons…

22) Heart Eyes | Explicit | 21,465 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

What the fuck did he just do? “Harry?” the demon asks as he tries to catch his breath. Louis looks like he’s been fucked to hell and back. His eyes are half-lidded in what Harry can only describe as erotic bliss, even as his crumpled form lies on the dirty ground. The incubus truly is a sight for sore eyes. He’s gazing up at Harry with those infuriatingly pretty heart eyes as if he's hung the very moon. This is wrong. This is all so fucking wrong. Or: Harry is a dedicated sentinel with a strong aversion to demons, and Louis is the lovesick incubus who will go to any lengths to win Harry's heart.

23) It Was All By Design (‘Cause I’m A Mastermind) | Explicit | 21,980 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

“You can’t be serious. You think I would be so awful to work for - you would rather quit?” “Don’t be all high and mighty about it,” Harry scoffs. “Surely you would do the same.” “I’m not being high and mighty. It’s called being professional.” “Really?” Harry pushes. “You’d work diligently under me with no complaints? You’d do whatever I asked of you?” “That would be my job, so yeah.” Harry shakes his head. “I’d work you so fucking hard,” he says slowly, “that you’d have to quit.”

24) Splash Me Across The Silver Screen | Explicit | 22,851 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Harry shrugged. “Maybe you just need to get even more outside your comfort zone. Maybe we need to try something a bit more… adventurous?” Curiosity successfully piqued, Louis tilted his head and toyed with the fringe dangling from his lace shrug. “Like what?" “We, uhm—maybe we try filming you in more compromising positions,” Harry suggested carefully. He kept his tone low and even as he studied Louis’ expression, hands skating over his curves soothingly. If Louis didn’t know any better he might have thought that Harry was talking about filming him naked. But that couldn’t be right—could it? “Like porn?”

25) The Bluest War And Peace | Explicit | 27,138 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

For centuries the Black Haven pack had a tradition where the first born omegas and alphas were to be introduced to each other. The pups were barely ten, dressed in their finest clothings and made to look presentable. That's when he first saw his ruins and he knew that he was never going to be the same.

26) I Found An Angel So Divine | Explicit | 30,990 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

“Arishem should have abducted a human instead, to fiddle with their memory. Would have been more effective.” Thena, who had been staring into space for a few minutes, looked up. “Why don’t we just bring a human with us?” Everyone turned to stare at her. “What?” she retorted sternly. “Why not introduce him directly to a human being, so he can see how special humanity is?” Pip, who had dozed off against a wall with his pint still in hand, woke up with a start, while Druig tried to make sense of Thena’s words. “Not a bad idea, but who? Personally, I don’t know any human being worthy enough to represent his entire bloody species.” Angel. Eros thought. “Louis!” Pip shouted.

27) Deleted Scenes | Explicit | 33,623 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Agent Harry Styles was injured on the job a few months back, and gets roped in one last mission before he can retire prematurely: playing house with Louis, a widower who has amnesia. The assignment seems simple at the beginning, but soon enough Harry's twisted in a web of his own making, and can't get out anymore.

28) Tainted Love | Mature | 39,381 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Broken awards, cut-up blouses, childish pranks and lots of nastiness? This is apparently all that remains of Louis and Harry after a sudden break-up and they walk a fine line between love, revenge and jealousy. Will the two find their way back to each other or are they both too hurt?

29) Yours, Mine & Ours | Explicit | 40,311 words

Note: This a sequel to this fic.

With their secret out, Harry and Louis must find a way to fight the spotlight, and battle the media, in order to keep their family in one piece.

30) All The Small Things You Do (Remind Me Why I Fell For You) | Not Rated | 53,685 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Prompt 68: Pack alpha Harry only wants to marry for matrimonial benefits but no other omega wishes to marry him for his reputation of being a big scary wolf who snarls at everyone for even breathing the wrong way. Omega Louis, to improve his pack’s condition, decides to be Harry’s pack Luna but is taken aback by how soft and sweet Harry actually is with him. AU where Harry is intimidating pack alpha but is very sweet and lovely with his soon-to-be mate and would do anything for his pack Luna, even make fool of himself in front of everyone just to see his giggle.

31) Valhalla | Mature | 73,282 words

Harry Styles is one of the strongest Norse warriors of his generation, an alpha with a noble title and local chief of his tribe, which is composed of alphas, betas, and omegas who have followed him into battle and their families. They live on a large island intentionally named Valhalla, the Norse warriors' paradise. He is almost accepting that he will never find an omega to mate, until he meets Louis Tomlinson, a young exiled omega warrior and also the most beautiful he has ever seen. And the alpha feels that this omega who must have the blood of Freyja running through his veins belongs to him and that he was blessed by the gods. Determined to conquer him, he takes him out of exile by taking him to Valhalla, but Louis is completely skittish and stubborn, determined to tear Harry's neck out with his sword if the alpha continues with this idea that the omega belongs to him. It's in the midst of conflicting feelings, rituals, and battles that alpha and omega find redemption and love even though they end up using their swords against each other.

32) Charmed | Mature | 163944 words

Louis had always felt he was different, but he had never understood why. At least until one particular event devasted hum, turning his life upside down forever and bringing to the surface a past he didn't know, a present he thought he knew, and a series of unexpected events that will trigger the beginning of a future he's not sure he wants to live.

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