#pros: i guess the roommate is moving out before tonight?

[the-everqueen]

bitching in the tags

[yung-notorious]

I LOVE THE KINKS, B*TCH, PANTIES TO THE SIDE, BAE! I GOTTA SNEAK 'CAUSE YOUR B*TCHES DO NOT LIKE ME!— ♡

— your roommates are gone for the next couple of hours, and you're in the mood for some company...served with a side of tongue of course. you ain't asking for too much. — feat. satoru gojo

+18 MDI. WARNINGS. baddie!reader x college!gojo, excerpt from never lose me chapter 7, porn with plot, situationship, late-night sneaky links, pillow talk, risky unprotected sex, dirty talk & body worship, light spit & cum play, squirting, missionary & backshots, fingering & p*ssy eating, cunnilingus, voice kink, breeding kink, exhibition kink, almost creampie, gojo’s character may be questionable but his stroke game is A1. notes. word count 6k, apart of a larger body of work but can stand alone as a one-shot. you can read the full chapter here: A03 & master post. title: baby keem - pink panties

There’s just something about getting those “I’m outside” texts that makes your heart race and your tummy tingle just enough to have you rushing downstairs with some pep in your step. You thought answering the door wearing tight little Nike Pro shorts would shake him up, but seeing him walk up the front porch steps wearing something as simple as a black slim fit tee is doing you in way worse. 

Wherever he just came from looking this fine, he couldn’t have been up to any good, but fuck it— y’all can get into that later. All that matters now is that he’s here and you’re minutes away from riding him like the little red polo player on his shirt. 

“You took forever~” You say playfully, arms slinging around his neck as he pulls you into a tight hug, his hands coming down to gently hold you at the waist. Maybe you’re too down bad to think straight, but at this moment you truly believe nothing will ever come close to the affect his sweet touches have on you and when he holds you closer, it’s almost like melting into his arms. 

“I got here in an hour like I said.” He lets you go with a kiss to your cheek, then you’re taking his hand into yours just like before, leading him up the steps to the second floor your apartment unit is on. 

“Come on, come on!” His hands come to lift your butt as you climb the stairs in an attempt to push you up the steps further. 

“Stop, before I trip!” You snap, but it comes out as more of a hushed whisper, trying to keep your voice down out of respect for your neighbors. 

“You’re not gonna trip, come on you’re moving too slow!” He says, giving your butt a few playful taps that have a bit of impact behind them that have you giggling and picking up your pace. He should have just carried you up the stairs if he wanted to get you in the bed faster.

“Where’d you park?” You ask, unlocking your door, making room for the both of you to step inside. 

“Like around the corner, there weren't any spots why?” 

“No reason.” You say all cherry to keep things low-key. You might have failed to mention to him that having him here tonight is a bit problematic. You know for a fact the girls will throw a fit if they found out you skipped dinner to sneak him in.

“I’ll take your shoes— put them in my room.” You pick them up; they're New Balances, and you don’t even want to try to guess what size they are. You don’t know when the girls will be back, so you’ll have to hide them with you. 

Following you down the hall to your room, you lock the door behind you. You’re doing it right this time by having the vibes set before he came through. The lighting is dim and you have your oil diffuser going with music playing off your TV. Unsure of what to throw on you chose the first ‘Calm Night’ playlist that came up on Youtube. Young Nudy’s ‘Passion Fruit’ is playing low…which is a choice…but the beat is hot enough for you to freak too so it’ll do.

“Where’s your roommates?” He sits at the edge of your bed, pulling you in by the waist to stand between his legs, your hands coming down to rest on his shoulders as you look down on him. 

“Out eating— Ow stop! I’m ticklish.” His hands come up to rub circles around your lower abdomen.

“Where at, how come you ain’t go?” He lifts you up to take you in his lap, shifting up your bed as he does so, laying back on your pillows— your stuffed animals already tossed to a corner of your room.

“At some Italian place down the street, and because I was tired. Didn’t feel like going out tonight. I already told you this.” You shift to sit more comfortably. “And why are your pants still on?” You move to tug at the waistband of his sweats but he stops you before you can do so, collecting your hands in his then letting them go. 

“Uh-uh, just wait. I wanna talk to you first— I missed you. How your day been, what you been up to?”

“Mmm…I slept most of the day. I was doing homework with my friend when you texted me—” You slide down his body to rest your head on his chest, and he shifts with you, wrapping you in his arms. You’re close enough to hear his heartbeat, his chin resting gently on your head as he holds you.

“You were on campus?”

“No, we did it together over Facetime. She lives in your dorm actually, that’s who I was with yesterday.”

“Do I know her, what’s her name?”

“You don’t know her— and I’m not giving you her name!" You laugh.

“Why? You tryna have spies on me?”

“Yeah, can’t have you know who I got spying on you— Ow! Stop it!” You yelp, feeling him playfully pinch at your side. It doesn’t actually hurt, but it catches you off guard since you’re ticklish there.

“What do you need spies for? You think I’m sneaky?”

“Anyways!” You draw out, dodging the question in an effort to keep the peace.

“After that, I helped Utahime and Shoko get ready for this girl we’re friend’s with birthday dinner.”

“Oh so you ain’t get invited? That’s why you stayed in?” 

“Tsch, No! I stayed back because I found out at the last minute that it was tonight. By that time I didn’t feel like getting dressed to go.”

“You probably should have gone, she invited you because she wants you to be there.”

“I mean yeah— but she’s more Utahime’s friend, not mine. She’ll be alright.”

“I don’t know…” He chuckles, “You know how girls get when it comes to their birthdays. She might stop fucking with you and never talk to you again.”

“Tsch, oh my god it’s not that deep.” You roll your eyes at the dramatics. That girl will be okay!

“Utahime and I got into a whole argument about it too. She tried to call me selfish. You think that’s selfish?” You lift your head to look at him, seeking his opinion. “All because I didn’t wanna go to dinner?”

“Wasn’t just a dinner, it was a birthday dinner. And that isn’t selfish— if you didn’t want to go then you didn’t want to go. Don’t stress about it anymore, it's over with. You can’t do anything about it now.” 

“It’s not always good to be everywhere all the time. I’ll come out once in a blue but I’m inside a lot, my friends know me for that but it’s all cool.” He adds on. 

Aww, see, this is why you like him! If a man can’t take your side even when you’re slightly in the wrong then y’all shouldn’t be fucking! 

“They know I’m here?” He asks, his tone sounding as if he’s caught on to the reason behind your actions back at the front door when he had first walked in. 

“Maybe…” You admit, halfheartedly already caught in your lil scheme.

“No way you got me in here after getting into a fight with your roommates. Let me leave now before they get back, you’re setting me up.”  He laughs and starts to lift you off him to make his exit, but you use your weight to try and keep him down.

“Aht! No! Lay down!” 

“I’m playing, I’m playing.” He lets you go, arms tightening back around you smoothening you into his chest then letting you go.

“And we didn’t fight, we just exchanged a couple cuss words. We’re all good.” You shift onto your side, settling into his embrace with his right hand resting on your shoulder. 

“Uh-oh, I know how your mouth gets, I even get a little scared of you when you’re mad.” 

“Shut up—”

“Auhp! See, there it goes.” He laughs, cutting you off. 

“I swear I’m a nice girl, y’all just make me mad sometimes. Pushing my buttons.”

“Who’s y’all? I already know you’re an angel, you don’t have to keep proving it to me.” 

“So what were you doing that took so long, said you were with your friends?” You ask, trying to take the subject off of you. 

“Uhhh— we got together in one of my mans dorm. Had a conversation,  all of us were just chilling.”

“And that took you an hour?” You ask, genuinely curious.

“They talk a lot.” He says with a snarky laugh.

“Saying what?” You push further. Y’all fuck for real now so you want to know all the tea— where he’s going, coming from, and who he’s been with. It ain’t controlling either, it’s overseeing. 

“Nothing too serious– just a lot of weird shit going on. Nothing for you to worry about though...kid shit.”

“And you had to put on cologne for that?” You question, nipping playfully at his shirt. You’re not entirely buying his story, and you’re also not trying to accuse him of lying, but you can tell he’s leaving out details that are probably going to catch him up on whatever’s actually going on. It’s cool though, you’re going to find out eventually. Trust.

“Baby this a fresh polo tee, came right out of the pack today. I ain’t put on cologne.” He says smoothly. 

“So you just always smell this good, naturally?” You continue teasing. It’s a silly question, but you’re not backing down from this little debate— or whatever it is.

“Yeah, probably? But I also wash up.” He says with a tone that makes it sound like the most obvious thing in the world, and it has you cracking up.

“And when are you gonna repost my story? It only has a few hours left, I’m tryna get more views on it.” He says bringing you closer, turning the topic back on to you.

“What yo!?” You suck your teeth. Out of all the things to talk about, he’s bringing that shit up, and now. Stopping to take in the sound of what’s playing in the background, you see that it’s Tinashe’s newer track ‘Uh-Huh’. You should have picked the music yourself tonight, because you surely would have liked getting crushed to her album ‘Nightride’. 

“What, you ain’t fuck with my post?” He teases.

“You know I ain’t like it, stop playing— and what do you know about some Nardo Wick!?” 

“You were turning up to Sexyy Red at the bar, I had a feeling you’d know that song.”

“Mhm…sure.”

“You still want me to delete it?”

“It’s the end of the day, you might as well leave it up. Don’t know why you thought it was cute to embarrass me like that...” You’re over it, seriously you are. But that doesn’t mean you can’t continue pressing him about it. 

“I ain’t embarrass you. You started it, I ended it for you. Told you I was going to get your goofy ass back.” He pokes your cheek and you swat back at his finger.

“Look—” He shifts to pull his phone out of his pants pocket. Like India at Durk, you’re looking all at his phone screen as he opens up Instagram. “You got all these likes and heart eyes. I got a bunch of DMs from people I know saying I’m capping and that I ain’t pull you.” He taps on his story to show you the reactions on the post you’re tagged in, then scrolling through his DMs quickly. “Look at this one, this my bro from back home. He’s laughing at me, saying you ain’t my girl.”

“See, he can even tell you’re a fan.”

“Fuck them, I don’t care. I’m your biggest fan, and I’m back in your bed. Now what?” He locks his phone and sets it face down on your nightstand— the tell-tale sign of a sneaky hoe.

“Tsch— ughh!” You roll your eyes at the irony of his words though you walked right into that one.

“When are you gonna stop playing hard to get?”

“How am I playing hard to get?” You tease, firing back with the same playfulness he uses on you.

“Oh, so I got you then?” 

“I ain’t say that.” You say smart with a little bit of sass mixed in.

“Damn, so you're still treating me like a hoe? You just called me here for some dick and to rub on your booty, didn’t you?” His hand comes down to squeeze your butt, making you smile. 

“Aww see, you know me so well!” You say sarcastically. 

“Uh-uh, I’m tryna get to know you more.” He says, shifting to hover over you. He plants his hands on either side of your head to support himself, looking down at you. “What you do on the weekends, what you’re into, what makes you laugh, smile. I wanna know all that.” You can feel the heat that’s long started to burn in your stomach rise to your cheeks.

“Mmmm, see there you go again blushing. Don’t try to hide it.”

“You talk too much.” You clap back. What more could you say or do, deny the truth?

“And I can keep talking too— help me take these off you.” He says softly, tugging at the waistband of your shorts. Your que to lift your lower half up for him to pull them down. You’re left in your pink thong once they’re off, the cloth at the middle damp and wedged in between the folds of your pussy. His hand comes down to teasingly stroke at your heat, a ticklish feeling that has you instinctively widening your legs. He might think all his sweet talking softened you up, but the truth is that he had you growing wet the moment you answered the door and his big hands held your waist. 

“What time are your roommates coming back?” 

“Not sure…they won’t know you’re here. What you scared?” You bite your lip, looking up at him with teasing eyes. 

“Not scared of them— just gotta be quiet when they get back.” He grabs at your body tightly, large hands spanning over your hips and thighs. “Turn the music off, gotta listen out for the door.” He says, and you’re reaching for the remote you stuck behind your pillow to turn the TV off entirely. 

“Leave them on for a second.” He says, stopping you from taking off your thong next, mesmerized by how it digs into your hips and how its color perfectly complements your complexion. Slipping your hands under his shirt to run them up his chest, you pepper kisses along the side of his jaw as he pulls your thong to the side. Teasing two digits between your folds and around your clit to gather up slick, you can’t help but to buck up chasing more of the feeling. 

“Relax.” He tells you, a firm hand coming down to your hip. You hadn’t noticed you were tense, too caught up in a hurry trying to chase the sensation his touch brings. His command has you easing up, sinking yourself further into the mattress as he moves closer into your space to hover over you, not once breaking eye contact— eyes that you know better than to try and look away from. 

Dropping your hands to lay at your side, he tucks an arm behind your neck to rest his face in its crook, leaving kisses and soft bites along your skin. Running your fingers up into his hair to cradle him closer, bringing him chest to chest, he begins to drive his two fingers deep into you with each and every curl having you moan out in pleasure, widening your legs more in an attempt to rock up against them, chasing his fingers down to the knuckles.

You love the squish sounds your pussy makes, right along with the wet noise of his mouth as he works down your neck. He’s fully clothed still, and when you get the chance to look down you're sure he’s rock hard with the way he’s tenting his sweats. You’d take him out his pants to give him a helping hand, but with the way his fingers are fucking into you so damn good you’re too blissed out from pleasure to find the strength to do so.

Lifting off you a few good strokes later, he moves to tug his clothes off leaving him in his boxers, and you can’t stop your eyes from watching as he takes them off next. His pretty dick, already so hard and heavy, leaking pre. Taking him into your hand, you give his dick a few tight strokes then move to align him to your entrance. 

“I can’t get a taste first?” He breathes out catching your hand, a soft lustful look in his eyes. Oh he’s such a sweetie, always so eager to please, who are you to deny such a beautiful man? Letting go to maneuver your thong off for you, he shifts further down the bed pushing your thighs to the side, plump lips quickly meeting your pussy to give kisses to your clit.

Maybe it’s the pillow princess in you, but there’s nothing you love more than the view that comes with getting your box ate. His head buried between your thighs and your long acrylic nails gently playing with his hair. Your oil diffuser has been running in the corner this entire time— the light emitting from its LEDs casting a purplish glow onto everything throughout the room, and funny enough his soft white hair now resembles pink cotton candy. 

“Fuck—” You moan out softly with your toes curling, caught off guard by his tongue finding its way inside you. Pulling off to spit on your now sloppy pussy, he takes a thumb to smear it in, rubbing circles on your clit.

“Again.” You whine, dragging an index finger down to widen your pussy as you look down for a closer look when he spits again, this time nearly straight inside you. Watching his fingers push in and out of you afterwards heightening your arousal. It’s nasty, unlike anything you’ve experienced before, but you’re starting to enjoy being nasty for him. If he can be your lil' munch, you’ll happily be his lil' slut. Especially when he holds you this close, grips you just right, savors you up like a delicious treat, and murmurs how amazing you taste, loving how wet you get for him every time. 

“Condom?” He pulls off, coming up to lean over you waiting for your response before proceeding. “No…why you still gotta ask?” You say through a teasing smile. It’s only been him, no one else— can’t he tell? 

“Just wanna make sure…” He whispers, left hand trailing up to your chest to wrap around your neck then planting a kiss to your cheek. 

“‘Cause it’s mine right?” He taunts, with a thumb tracing your lower lip. Moving to aligning himself to your entrance you watch him push in slowly, allowing you to adjust to the stretch of his girt as he sinks deeper into you.  

“Shit—” He draws out coming to a hilt, feeling the way you tighten around him he slowly pulls out then back in to watch the way your pussy grabs back at his dick. Taking ahold of your waist he uses a knee to widen you up more, then begins a slow roll of his hips fucking into you in such a way that has you whimpering in pleasure the moment his thighs meet the backsides of yours. 

It’s not enough though, too slow for your liking. You’re more into when fucks you down onto him rough and uncaring, really letting you feel every inch of his dick. The both of you know he’s got it in him, you hate that he’s holding back. 

“More— harder...” You whine out trying to rut against him, taking your left arm to wrap behind his neck, pushing him closer in effort to spur him on to quicken his pace, your other hand grabbing onto his side. 

“Uh-uh, we don’t have to rush…” He murmurs softly, “…i’m not going anywhere.” He shrugs off the arm that’s wrapped around him, taking a hold of your wrist to lay down at the side of your head then intertwining his hand into yours. 

“Let me make you feel good.” He pulls out again, this time sliding the tip through your folds then tapping it hard onto your pussy, causing an audible slap sound that has you humming in pleasure. 

“Wanna take my time with you— tell me where it feels good, okay?” 

You nod in response, voice stuck in your throat as his words fuel the fire that’s burning in your stomach. Lifting your head up a bit to watch as he slides back in, you bring a hand down taking two fingers to part your folds, fingers fixed in a V shape allowing his dick to thrust between them into you  

“There you go— spread it open for me.” He grunts, hips rolling slow and shallow, wetting his thumb to rub circles into your clit. “That feel good?” 

“Mhm— fuck…deeper.” You nod, he’s only got half his dick in and as much as you love the fact that it’s not even fully in you, yet still has you squirming, you know you can take more— all of it. 

“I got you…” He hushes, right hand taking ahold of your right thigh, folding it in towards the side, the new angle has him fucking deeper into you just the way you like it with the both of you watching as you squeeze around him as he continues thrusting in and out of your pussy.

“Toru…right there— don’t stop....” You moan, your own finger now coming to play at your clit. Pussy becoming even more drenched and your whole body growing hot from the way he’s now hitting directly onto your g-spot. 

“Here?” He gives another deep thrust hitting your cervix and that has your back arching, a hand coming down to his stomach to push him back. 

“Don’t run from it…” He thrusts again, loving the way your mouth parts into an O shape and how tightly you clench down onto him. He spits on your pussy again, looking down you catch a creamy ring starting to form around his dick and that’s turning you on even more. You love this nasty shit, letting him it raw and sloppy, slutting you out this good you’ll do just about anything for him. 

“Hold your legs.” He grunts, and you take a hold of your thighs folding them in, his right hand coming down to rest flat onto your stomach holding you steady as his hips snap faster. “Keep playing with it…” He says, and you let go one thigh, keeping it raised to rub at your clit. 

As much as you love getting fucked from behind, you’re growing to love missionary just as much. Him caging you in, whispering the nastiest shit he comes up with into your ear, holding yourself open for him to thrust deeper into you, watching the way his dick works into you as you play with your clit. You don’t love this boy but you definitely love the way he lays pipe, fucking into you just right as if he’s already learnt the layout of your pussy. Arousal overtaking your entire body you slide a hand under your cami to grab at your boobs. Your thighs are now starting to tremble then the next thing you know you’re leaking wet fluid then squirting all over his dick. Tightening up so much he has to pull out.

“Shit— come back.” You pant, nails drenched along with the finger that was playing with your clit pruning. Sitting up some you move to wipe your hand on your stomach to get most of it off you. Taking his fingers to push through your folds he collects up just enough slick, bringing them to your mouth for you to suck clean and you happily oblige wrapping your lips around his two digits. 

“See how wet you are…” He draws his hand back, coming down to rub small quick circles into your pussy, then a few light taps producing a squish sound it’s wetness. “This how I want you to have it ready for me whenever I come see you.” He leans over to whispers into your ear, you’re then feeling him push back into you causing you to buck your hips up chasing his length and god…just the thought of being in your bedroom playing with your pussy, getting it all nice and wet for him before he comes through is taking you from one hundred to a thousand— it’s about time the slut comes out, no more slow shit, you want to fuck for real now. 

“Fuck me…c’mon…wanna cum.” You whine, and that has him taking a hold of your ass, scooting you down the bed closer to his hips quickening his pace, snapping his hips fast, helped by the curve of his dick hitting your g-spot with damn near perfect precision. 

“There— don’t stop.” You whine, yet your hands still come down to the tops of his thighs to push him back. 

“Stop running.” He collects both wrists into his hands, holding them down above your head as he begins to fuck into your mercifully, hips never stuttering.

“Spit on it again.” You beg, and he does. A fat wad that you feel drip down between your ass. You weren’t into getting your coochie spat on before but fuck it, you’re with all the nasty shit tonight. 

“You nasty baby, ain’t think you’d be into that shit. What else do you like, talk to me.” He pants, looking you straight in the eye as he says it, and you're blown away by how gorgeous he looks despite already looking spent with the front of his hair sweated out against his forehead. 

“Like when you spank m— ahh!” A hard slap then grip to your ass cuts you off, he thrusts into you deeper in response to your moan. “Fuck, do that again— mhmp!” 

Slap!

“Mmmm— what else?”

“Like when you grip me tight— on my waist…there just like that.” You stammer out, a hand coming down to squeeze where you showed him to hold. 

“Like when you put your hands around my neck— mmm like that…don’t choke me.” You moan, his large hand wrapping around your throat without any pressure, and you’re batting your eyes all pretty, biting your lip, clenching down on him in return. 

“You feel so fucking good…love how you fuck me…what it feel like for you?” 

“Feels amazing baby, every single time.” He grunts, deep thrusts followed by each of his last three words. “My pretty girl— you’re so fucking perfect.”

“Swear— not one bitch out here comes close to you.” He says clearly for you to hear— no believe it, and that has you dizzy, clinging onto him and letting out choked up moans that are music to his ears spurring him on.  

“Fuck— cum in me.” You moan, too fucked out to care about how you sound right now. You don’t want him to pull out this time, want him to take you however which way he wants, bury his dick deep and bust all up in you. 

“Mmm— want me too?” He teases, feeling his dick twitch inside you. 

“So bad….” You run a hand up into his hair, gripping his locks to bring him closer towards you.  “…wanna watch it drip out…want you to put it back in so you can keep going then cum in me again.”

“Ooooo— don’t say that…” He chuckles low, you can tell by the way his hips stutter that the thought of it is fucking his head up. 

“Serious…it’s your pussy— ahh!” Another hard slap to your ass cuts you off, “You said it’s mine now?” He grins wickedly, knows he’s got you slipping, can hear it in your voice.

“Been yours.” You spit back, tired of the teasing. “Said I’m your girl right? Treat it like it’s yours then, cum in me.”

“Heh— you don’t know what you’re saying.” He says low, and you hate that look in his eyes, like you’re out of your mind, too dick drunk and fucked stupid to know what you’re asking for. 

“Cum in m— ahh mmmh…t-think about you when you’re not here…want you to fuck me everyday— cum in me as much as you wa— shit ahh!” Another deep thrust that hits your cervix again, making you grip the sheets pressing your heels into the mattress to lower yourself, running from it. 

“Lemme be that girl for you…” You continue powering through, wrapping a leg over his back to lock him in. Your voice is needy and dripping with sex, you don’t care how you sound, you'll say anything to tip him over the edge and spill into you. 

“Stop talking…” His voice shakes, your own having an affect on him as you feel his dick twitch again up inside you. 

“Thought you like it when I talk…” You tease with a smile, he’s getting weak, you can tell you’re about to make him cum. 

“Not when you— stop that…” He pushes a hand down on your stomach as you clench around his dick again in an attempt to pull another reaction out of him.

“I was wrong about you…” He speaks up sounding more collected, taking a thumb to part your lips, then dragging down to take a hold of your chin to raise it up. “…you’re not shy…” He slows his thrusts, coming to a complete stop buried deep in you. Two hands come to caress the side of your face, then down your neck, running all over your chest and back up again as if he’s taking in the softness of your skin. “…you just ain’t ever have somebody turn you out…’least not the way I do.”  

You can’t help but smile at the fucking truth that is, a small giggle that you’re able to hold down almost coming up from within you.

“I’m not nutting in you tonight.” He states plainly, “But I can fuck you like the lil pornstar you’re tryna be…come lick it up real quick...I need a break I don’t wanna nut just yet.” He pulls out of your wrecked pussy, sitting back on his heels holding his dick in his hand ready for you to clean off.  

Lifting up with a breathy groan from how sore your thighs ache, you arch down low in front of him, taking him in your hand and squeezing roughly at the tip just the way he likes it, licking up every bit of yourself off him. 

“Bring it up for me…yeah.” He leans over you to grab your ass, and you’re raising it up higher for him to get a better grip.

“Get the front. Sides. All of it.” You do as he instructs, swirling your tongue as you stroke his dick then you’re wrapping your lips around him. About a minute or so later, once you're sure you’ve cleaned it all up, you’re pulling off with an audible pop and a smile on your face. 

“Turn…” He motions for you to move. You turn around, arching down low as he knees his way up the bed, his hands resting on either side of your ass, aligning his dick to your entrance. “Scoot back closer to me…right here…arch…lower…there you go.” He guides you down into position, hands rubbing up and down your back as he does so. 

Missionary great but backshots are even better. Love how it feels when he pushes in, hands pressing deep into the dimples of your back, dick hard and curving up into you fast, tight grip of his hands on your body working you down to feel every inch of his length.  

You don’t miss the string of curses he lets out as his hips slam up into you either, the sound of your ass clapping his hips as you fuck back onto him. Even the weight you’re putting on him is throwing his rhythm off to where he’s taking a hand to your shoulder to steady himself as he fucks into you like a bully. Just wait till I see you again— yeah that was code for ‘Imma bust your shit open’.

Slap!

“You got it baby— just like that.” He groans against your ear, followed by another hard slap against the underside of your thigh almost making you crawl up the bed. 

Slap!

“Uh-uh come on, keep pushing back.” He calls out, pushing you down further causing your legs to widen for him, giving more access to fuck into you. He’s so deep, degrading thrusts knocking up against your cervix with you panting out in a mix of pain and pleasure yet you love it so much. Love the way he fucks like you’ve got the best pussy he’s ever been in, tearing your shit up like he’s mad at you. 

This ain’t just fucking now, nah this is different, y’all screwing. The type of fucking you shouldn’t be doing with just anybody, likely as to why it feels so damn good this way. He ain’t your man just yet, but he’s definitely becoming your something. 

Arching with your chest completely flat against the mattress, you then bring a hand behind yourself to spread your cheeks apart, holding your pussy open for him with his hand coming to grab you at the wrist tight to hold you back. 

“Whose is it?” 

“Yours!” You cry out, taking your free hand down in between your legs to play at your clit. Face squished into the mattress, you can feel yourself drooling but you don’t care, you need to cum so bad. You’re almost there. 

“Uh-uh, say my name baby. Yours who?”

“Yours Gojo!” 

“Mmmm.” You hear him chuckle, pleased by the way his name sounds coming off your tongue. “What I gotta do, nut in you for you to remember?” 

“Yeah— go ’head do it.” You whine out looking back at him and holy shit the look on his face has you burning up even more, you can tell he’s trying his hardest to hold back from bussing. You fucked him enough times by now to know he’s close when his brows knit together like that. 

Lifting yourself up to hold onto your headboard for leverage, he comes up closer behind you, your back to his chest as he fucks up into you deep and hurried holding onto your breasts. The creak of your bed frame and squeak of your mattress coils adding to the pants and moans coming from the both of you. 

“Can’t even feel my dick— that’s how wet you are.” He breathes into your ear, your hands coming to cover his own two holding him closer, loving the way they feel grabbing and squeezing your tits.

“You really gonna let me cum in you one day?” He breathes, unsteady too and you love the sound of it— how he’s not shy to show how weak your pussy gets him. 

“Of course—”

“Fuck— I think I heard the door, your roommates might of came back.” He breathes out, yet neitherare stopping as he’s still fucking into you chasing his own orgasm.  

“Your bed is loud…we gotta slow down.” He warns, and you feel his pace start to slow, and that just won’t do— you need him to cum. You don’t give a fuck if your roommates hear, you spent too many nights hearing them get fucked. They can give you a damn pass. 

“Don’t stop— keep going.” You buck back, “ ‘ts your pussy…take it whenever you want…stop fucking worrying about shit.”

“Fuck you want them to hear you?” His hand comes up to your neck, wrapping around your throat a bit tight as he fucks you down onto his length picking his pace back up. 

“I don’t give a f— hmph!” You squeak, not expecting his hand to slap over your mouth to hold back your moans in an attempt to keep you quiet. He’s fucking into you relentlessly now, hips snapping like crazy as he chases his orgasm. Bringing your finger back down to continue rubbing circles into your clit you soon feel that familiar heat rise up your body, then the next thing you know you’re cumming and moaning in pleasure but he doesn’t stop, continuing to fuck up into your tore pussy. 

Dropping his hand from your mouth he presses you back to the mattress and after a few final thrusts he’s pushing off you with his back hitting the mattress, stroking his dick fast then cumming all over his knuckles and chest. 

“Shit— fuck!” He pants, white ropes of hot cum dripping off the side of his toned stomach. “We gotta chill…” He breathes out. “…I almost nutted in you.” He pants, completely fucked out.  

“I know…” You roll onto your back besides him, watching as he gives his dick a couple more strokes, squeezing the last bit of cum out of him, slowly dripping down his dick. 

Post nut clarity is starting to hit. He’s right, y’all need to chill…your ass isn’t on birth control, and you haven’t told him that yet either. You know in your heart he’s the last person you want to have to send a ‘I need to tell you something’ text too.

Reaching around for your phone, you glance at the time to see it’s just past midni— for more, read the rest of the chapter here…

[woso-fan13]

Concussions and Cuddles

Lindsey’s the first to spot you as you enter the room, instantly opening her arms for you. Half asleep and cocooned in a blanket, you stumble over and settle in. 

“Hey, little buddy,” she greets you softly. “You know you didn’t have to come tonight if you don’t feel up for it. You won’t miss much, I think we’re just watching a movie.”

You hum slightly before responding, “I wanted to, Linds. I feel fine, just a little tired.”

She sighs slightly but tightens her grip around you. She was worried about you, they all were. You had a pretty serious knock in the head during the game today, but you passed all of the concussion tests. Even when your teammates protested as you wobbled on your feet, Coach still insisted you keep playing. Needless to say, you had been quickly escorted to bed once you got back to the hotel, and- with a warning to your roommate to watch over you- you were left to nap it off with a nervous Mal watching over you. 

By now, the rest of the team had noticed your entrance. The room had gone quiet as everyone watched you relax into Lindsey. Kelley, a pro at head injuries and an absolute mama bear, moves to sit in front of you. 

She uses one hand to push your hair out of your face, trying to simultaneously feel for any bump that might be forming. Your eyes fell closed at her gentle touch, your face relaxing. 

“Alright, kiddo,” she starts, causing you to blink your eyes open. Your eyes are unfocused and tired as you try to look at her. 

“There we go. I need you to be a tiebreaker, Alex and I were arguing about where we are. Do you remember?”

Somewhat confused by the odd question, you respond, “a hotel, Kel.”

“I know that much,” she says, playfully rolling her eyes, “I meant what state. I thought we were in Texas, but Alex thinks we’re in Colorado.”

That’s a tougher question. You were at camp, you knew that much. And you think that it had been cold out earlier. Deciding to risk a guess, you answer, “Alex’s right, it’s Colorado.” 

Kelley looked back to the group, exchanging a concerned glance. Rose stands up and leaves the room, no doubt to go find someone from the medical staff. 

Alex appears next to Kelley. Where did she come from? You didn’t even know she was in the room. 

“You’re close, sweetpea, we’re up in Canada.”

Your face scrunches slightly at that piece of information, you don’t remember going to Canada. You don’t really remember anything about today. 

“I played against Jessie?” you ask, trying to understand, “I want to see Jess.”

Lindsey shifts behind you, getting your attention, “no, bug, Jessie didn’t come to this camp, she’s still in London.”

Now, you’re slightly upset, you need to see Jessie. She would make everything better, just like at UCLA. She was basically your big sister. 

“I need Jessie,” you plead, eyes watering. 

The single tear running down your face causes Mal to pull out her phone before a ringing fills the room. 

“Mal? What’s wrong?” a worried voice floods over the speaker. “I can’t really talk, practice is just starting.”

Hearing the familiar voice, you let out a pitiful cry. “Jess. I need you.”

“Oh, love, why are you crying? Did something happen?”

Kelley grabs the phone from Mal, holding it out so you could see Jessie over FaceTime. She’s in the locker room, headphones in. You can see her teammates in the background, desperately trying to snoop without being obvious. 

Seeing her face, the tears start pouring out freely. Lindsey keeps one hand wrapped around you, using her other to guide your head to her neck. She rocks you as you sob, cooing softly into your ear.

The door to the room opens as Rose leads the medical staff to you. Clearly, she had given them a run down on the way there. Mal takes the phone back from Kelley, walking into the hallway to explain to her confused friend what had happened. 

The medics try to pull your head out of the safety of Lindsey’s neck, and you whine pitifully. Kelley steps in, pulling you into her arms and using one hand to keep your head steady. A heartbreaking sob leaves your mouth as you lose your comfort and are bombarded with a pen light and a variety of questions. Kelley almost breaks her hold on you after hearing that sound, but Alex slides closer, reinforcing her grip. Seeing you weakly struggle, Lindsey has to leave the room, unable to watch. 

After a quick assessment, the medics start talking with Alex and Kelley. The medics start questioning Kelley and Alex pulls you fully into her arms before standing up and heading into the hallway. Your arms and legs are tightly wrapped around her, your head buried in the crook of her neck. She bounces slightly, shushing you and placing kisses to the top of your head. 

She manages to balance you in one arm, using her other to pull her keycard out. She walks you into her room, taking you over to the bed she and Kelley share. Everyone on the team knew that you would be in their room tonight. She sits on the edge, just allowing you to cry. 

It was going to be a long night. 

[angieloserathend]

Geto Suguru is such a tease.

(Little story I wrote for one of my nsfw drawing, which it can be found on my Twitter: loserathend Also link is below)

You have been roommates for six months, but never kissed or did anything dirty. One night, Suguru comes home from work. Being a mechanic has its pros and cons. Having a strong muscular body is definitely a pro. You always noticed how he comes home with his shirt dirty with motor oil stains or even ripped sometimes. You are chilling on the couch as he comes through the door. White shirt, almost transparent, his pectorals are showing and his nipples are hard. He stretches as you see his v line and happy trail. Sure you thought of him sexually before, but this is different. Something is different tonight.

“Hey, didn’t see you there”

“Sorry, Suguru. I hope i didnt scare you.”

“No, not at all. We’re home at the same time. What are the odds? Anyways, do you need the bathroom? I’m gonna shower real quick.”

“N-no…you are..you’re fine”

He goes to the bathroom and takes a long hot shower. So hot you can see the steam coming out of the door. You’re still laying down on the couch but hear everything that’s happening. Water running, then it stops. After a while the bathroom door opens, and you know he’s done and going to his room. After a few minutes you get up and go to your room. You’re about to open your bedroom’s door when…

“Y/n?”

(What? He’s calling me?)

“Yeah?”

“Would you mind come here for a sec?”

“Um, sure. Are you dressed?”

“Yeah”

*you open his bedroom’s door*

He’s still naked and a bath towel is the only thing covering his private parts.

“Uh…that’s not what people call ‘dressed’”

“You don’t like what you see?”

“I-I…guess.”

“Your cheeks are getting quite red”

“Maybe it’s because you’re naked?!”

“Come sit next to me”

Slowly making your way to Suguru, sitting on his bed, next to him. He smells good. He leans towards you, his mouth gets closer to your neck, his hand gently moving your hair out of the way, giving you small kisses, then using his tongue, savoring you. You let out small moans.

“Why are you doing this?”

You say while he’s busy tasting your skin.

“Because, you’re so…”

“We should really stop Suguru”

“Your body says otherwise”

You didn’t even notice but your hand is grabbing his arm so hard. And you got goosebumps all over your body.

“Do you want to see it?”

He asks.

It’s like you’re paralyzed. You can’t even talk. All you can do is looking at him and how fucking good he smells. With one movement with his hand he takes the towel off, revealing his massive hard on.

“Look. Pretty, isn’t it?”

You stare at it for a moment. His massive cock, it’s so fucking pretty just like he said. The veins, the precum. It’s begging to be touched.

“Please touch it.”

And what happens after is pretty obvious.

‼️⬇️Nsfw drawing⬇️‼️

[inkofamethyst]

March 27, 2024

daylist: symphonic nerdy wednesday evening (city pop, japanese jazz, orchestra, film score [it was exclusively ~vgm~ (lots of NieR and Final Fantasy, lots of vocal tracks!) lol], mmorpg)

song obsession of the week: The Old Witch Sleep and the Good Man Grace - The Amazing Devil gfkgdkjgkjfgkjd

Man I am just so pro-right to repair. Was thinking about getting some new headphones because the earpads on the ones I've had for years have been flaking bad for months, but they sell what are essentially the same earpads online! The headphones themselves are still fully functional, so why contribute to electronic waste when I don't have to? And now they feel perfect :)

Speaking of repair though, I've been done dirty by orthodontists and dentists all my life. And now I might have to pay, again, to fix issues that were ultimately caused by them. I've done (almost) everything right. Wore my retainers nightly, brushed, and I'm now into flossing regularly. So annoying.

Anyway I'm lowk stressing about the future (because of course I am) because even though I could "afford" a solo apartment, I also can't help but feel like that would be squandering my opportunity to save a ton toward the future when my savings would make the most impact (yeah, sorry, it's another one of these, and won't be the last I'm sure). Living solo is something I want and would love to do. And according to my calculations, I could. Even without sacrificing retirement and saving toward a house. Which is more than most graduate/PhD students are ever able to do during their schooling. But it's the anxiety of knowing that I could do more if I had even just one roommate. It's like, considering my situation as a student, what I already have saved, what I will be able to save, what I will have left over each month (a seriously comfortable sum (because, like a platypus, I don't do much)), I would be fine. I would be happy! But having one roommate wouldn't be the worst thing in the world, I guess. And then I could contribute more to my future happiness.

I don't know.

Can I place a monetary value on comfort?

I have a little under a year to figure out what I'm going to do. I can tell you what I want. I want someone to tell me that choosing to live alone would not be ruinous. That it'd be okay. That it'd be worth it for my contentment. That I'm taking the right steps, that I have a good foundation set. But I have to make the decision by myself. And then live with it. Through whatever comes. Because I don't really want to move more than once more before my program ends (and another thing, it would be much more difficult to save up for moving again if I lived alone).

Part of me wants to approach this with the mindset that the future is never guaranteed. And that, as a result, it's okay to splurge now. (Also there's the part about my grandmother potentially not being able to take care of her dog as she ages, and I wouldn't want to rehome her entirely (the puppy, not my grandmother).)

But like, okay. The 50-30-20 needs-wants-saving axis, right? I could stick "living alone" as part of wants since I don't otherwise really spend that much in wants ultimately.

Let me go calculate.

Okay. Post-tax (which is how you're meant to calculate 50-30-20), I'd be doing a bit better than the suggested model (but!!! this includes all the help I'm getting without which I simply would not consider this in the first place).

Let me... let me do some future sims.

nerdwallet says I'll be fine.

Okay. Okay! okay.. Ohh-kay.

I'm not completely decided but at least I have all that information available to me.

Today I'm thankful that.. I don't have a lot of homework tonight. So I can go to bed. OH OH ALSO thankful the person I've wanted as my secondary advisor for months but was too afraid to ask said yes and seemed happy to say so <3

[edit, ~a week later: the trouble will be finding a 1b/1b at my price point (still pretty low for this area since I don't really want to settle for a studio) that's close enough and has my minimum requirements (I suppose another potential option would be saving aggressively for another year to grind out a pot of money that would sustain me for three years at a slightly higher price point)]

[clementinesjourney]

Record Shop Funk - Pt. 1 Like real people do

A.N. : Hey guys, so i had this idea yesterday, and i really hope you'll like it. <3

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Words: 1,9k

Pairing: camboy!Steve x Reader, roommate!Bucky x reader, Stucky x reader (as the story goes)

Warnings: nothing yet :)

Summary: Who knew that having a secret crush, then a hearbreak will end in such a sweet thing..

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You and Bucky shared an apartment above the recordshop you both worked in. Your aunt was the owner of both, so it was a fairly good payment, and a fairly good apartment for a cheap price. It was a bright and big apartment with two bedrooms, so your decided to rent it out, all while searching for a helper to the shop downstairs. When Bucky came in applying for the job, you asked out of joke if he needs a place to live since you had seen around 5 people already and none of them felt right. His eyes lit up as he said he is in fact looking for a place. Since he was fitting for a job, and looked like a decent guy, you congratulated him on his new job, and asked if he wants to see the place today. You still had one and a half hour to close, but after it you would gladly show him the apartment.

He had nothing better to do, so he agreed to it, feeling happy about having a job he might actually like and a coworker he might actually will get along with.

-Do you drink coffee? I was thinking of getting one in the meantime. My friend works close by, and they make the best coffee in town. - He asked.

-I could go for one thank you - you smiled at him - iced cold-brew, no sugar, i'm sweet enough.. - you said with a smile.

He couldn't help but smile back at the joke. When he arrived at the café, he saw his friend Steve flirting with a girl whom he could visibly see trembling just cause he talked to her. Steve always had his way with girls, ever since the serum of course. After he broke up with Peggy, it was mostly just hookups, never finding a girl worth keeping around. Not as if they werent kind, pretty or good to him, it just never felt right. Bucky smiled at his friend, Steve immediately shifted his gaze from the girl, to a very happy Bucky.

-Did you get the job?

-Better.. I got the job, and she has a room for rent which i'll see tonight.

-Wow Bucky, i didn't know you were even better then i am.. sooo how does she look? - asked Steve with a slight wiggle of his eyebrows. He wanted Bucky to get a girl since ages and hearing this, his mind immediately ventured there.

-5'7, ginger, green eyes, freckles, curvy just the right places. why?

-Nothing Buck.. nothing.. - Steve said smirking at his friend.. Bucky never realized when he liked a girl, so he never really acted on it. He last had a woman back in the 40's.

-Sooo i know you didn't come to have chat with me, one black coffee and.. ?

-ah, iced cold-brew, no sugar..

After paying for the coffee, he hurried back to the shop, hoping to get to know his coworker a little bit better.

You thanked him for the coffee, and when you tried to pay, he refused.

-Next round's mine then. - You smiled at him with your 1000 watt smile, which again he couldn't help but smile back at.

-So tell me about you Bucky, what do you do in your freetime?

-Nothing really, just reading, spending time with my friends, kind of thats it.. I have a boring life really. What about you?

-Well, i work here, then i go home and listen to music, cook, god i love to cook, thats a big pro for the apartment.. just saying. - you said with a playful wink. - besides that nothing much. Sometimes i go to a nearby bar with my friends maybe concerts and thats it.

-I like washing dishes if that helps with the application for the room. - he said with a shy laugh which made your heart skip a beat.

- It sure does.. Do you leave your stuff around?

-No i'm a tidy person.. thank you very much. - he said cockily (just for the sake of being funny really).

-Okay okay, if you like it you can have the room, just promise to tell if you bring up a girl so i can leave. The walls are kind of thin.

-It's okay, i don't really...

-Oh um i'm sorry, i didn't meant to intrude, it just something i would really like everyone to add to their rental contracts. - you chuckled embarassed.

-Noo no, it's okay, i'm not embarassed by it. I guess i don't want hook ups, if one day there's someone i'll tell in advance.

-yea me too, i promise. If you end up renting it anyway haha. on that note it's time to close so i can show the room in a min.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

When you opened the door to the apartment Buckyquietly took in it all. It was really bright, white walls with paintings all over the walls, plants in every corner or shelf you can put one on, a comfy looking mustard couch, aztec-y rug under the coffeetable, and a wall fully shelved, filled with books and little trinkets, it looked like a home he never had a chance to have. The livingroom had an american kitchen on the side, island in the middle of the kitchen area, it was white, and blue which reminded him of greece, down the hallway you showed him the bathroom which of course had a lot of plants that liked the atmosphere of a bathroom, a shower in the corner and a bathtub under the window. You then showed the empty room he could rent out. It only had a shelf and a wardrobe, and a queen sized bed. No decorations, no signs of anybody ever living there. You then pointed to the room the opposit of what could possibly be Bucky's in the future, saying that is yours. You didn't show your room, he wasn't gonna go in there anyway, and showing your most private space on the first day didn't seem like a good idea either. You then invited him out to the balcony, watching the setting sun, smoking a cigarette.

-So thats about it, what do you think?

-I really like it, and i mean.. my workplace is pretty close so thats a plus, also you said something about cooking all the time.. sooo if it's alright with you i would love to rent it out.

-It's settled then roomie. I'll give you the keys, you can move in whenever you want to. Tomorrow we are closed, so maybe that would be ideal.

-Yea, then tomorrow it is then. I'll ask my friend to help, then we can maybe hang a bit if you're free.

-Sure, i have nothing planned, and it's good to know who i'll be living with. - you said with a smile.

Before closing the door, you said your goodbyes, and you realized what did you just do, after he wished you good night with a killer halfsmile that almost had your knees buckle. You just agreed to living together with possibly the most handsome man you've ever seen who is also your new coworker, so you will basically spend most of your time with him.. Guess we'll see how this goes you thought to yourself.

Morning came soon enough, you were sitting out on the balcony when you saw Bucky arrive with a very tall, just as handsome man, carrying boxes of books, and bags of clothing. Bucky looked up at the balcony, waving towards you, you waved back, then moved to open the front door before going back out to the balcony, resuming your coffee and smoke.

When they finished bringing all Bucky's stuff in, it was already midday, so you decided you'd order pizza for all of you, as in like a welcome present.

-Hey guys, i'm thinking of ordering pizza, what kind would you like?

-Oh (y/n) you don't have to. - said Bucky, earning a smirk from Steve as he looked back and forth between you two.

- Noo i insist, today won't be the day i'll start to slowly kill you with my cooking. - you said giggling a bit.

- Whatever's fine peach. - said Steve with a wink, that you decided was just out of friendlyness. You didn't veen knew his name, and he seemed like a lady's man anyways. Not really your type no matter how handsome and muscular he is.

- Steve, by the way, nice to meet you.

-(Y/n), likewise. - you shook his hand.

When the pizzas arrived you called them to the kitchen, listening to all their shared stories from their early years. They seemed like really close friends, and genuinely good people. You had a really great time. It was nearly 9 pm when Steve left, for saving a dame from dying cause of boredom he said. You and Bucky chuckled, then he let him out, closing the door, locking it for the night.

-I guess i have some packing to do, so.. good night (y/n).

-Good night Bucky, if you need anything just knock. - you said with a smile, and he couldn't help but smile back. He felt at peace. He had Steve, now he had a job, and a room to make a home of, and you as a new addition. You were so kind, so eager to help if he needed anything, he loved how the scent of raspberries and flowers lingered in the apartment mixed with coffee and cigarette smoke. It seemed to have a calming effect on him.

You heard a soft knock half an hour later. WHen you opened the door you saw a smiling Bucky, awkwardly scratching the back of his head.

- Hey, um.. sorry. I forgot i didn't bring a blanket, could i borrow one until i get my own?

-Yea sure, i'll get one in a min. - You said, leaving the door open, letting him see a bit of "you" while you were searching for your spare blanket in your wardrobe. The room really was you. White, with mustardy curtains on the window, plants everywhere, books piled up here and there, a really comfy looking bed, pictures of you and your friends on the walls. And damn, your room smelled even more like you. If he wouldn't pay attention your scent would lure him into your room and never let him leave he thought.

-There you go. - you handed him the blanket smiling.

-Thank you very much.

Then he stood there for a moment drinking in the sight of you in front of him. You were wearing an oversized tshirt, that ended just around the middle of your thighs, hair in a messy bun, no makeup. He could swear he thought you were pretty before, but seeing you as you were made him fancy you even more.

With a small smile you told him goodnight again, then closed the door in his face.

You could hear his little laugh on the other side of the door, then his door closing. For the first time in months he didn't wake up in the middle of the night, and he didn't had a nightmare either. He was afraid he would, and then he would wake you up with his screaming, but looks like the blanket which smelled just like you calmed him enough.

After waking up because the rays of sunshine on his face, he smiled to himself guess i'll wait with getting my own blanket then...

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: A Hoarding Problem.

Pairing: Pro-Hero!Yandere!Touya/Reader (Boku No Hero Academia).

Word Count: 2.5k

Synopsis: Todoroki Touya has a problem, and he’s not sure he wants to fix it.

TW: Hero AU, Minor Spoilers, Kidnapping, Mutual Extortion, Emotional Manipulation, Slight Gaslighting, Bondage, Implied Infantilization, Mention of Sedatives (No Actual Use), and Themes of Poverty. 

Todoroki Touya had a problem.

He had a lot of problems, technically. His secretary always managed to schedule the most important meetings at the least convenient times, his coffee never seemed hot enough but always burnt his tongue, and despite his fame and wealth and strange, cult-like popularity, the only thing journalists ever seemed to want to talk about was his father, why Touya didn’t inherit the ‘Endeavour’ title, how long it’d take him to live up to all those stacking, swelling expectations. He had a lot of problems, dozens, hundreds. He had a lot. Everyone did, but Touya didn’t have to deal with everyone else’s.

He just had to deal with you.

You were one of those concentrated types, your smile always a little too personal and your stare always a little too intense, like you were trying to see how much his organs would go for on the black-market before you bothered to cut him open. You were put together, too, and if he hadn’t taken the liberty of following you home so many times, he never would’ve guessed you were staying at some cheap, back-alley motel, the kind meant for people who just wanted to be anywhere but the place they used to be. A run-away, he’d guessed, at first, but you were too old for that, and you were too good at pretending you weren’t living out of the suitcase Touya was starting to get tired of rummaging through. Maybe you were a petty criminal, a villain too minor to be on his radar - he didn’t know, and he really wasn’t interested in finding out. All that mattered to him was that he’d met you, decided he liked you, and hadn’t been able to think about much else since. It was an issue, really, and it was starting to get in the way of his work. It was starting to get in the way of everything.

But, he’d had this kind of problem before. He knew what to do. He knew how to handle it.

You seemed to want to be handled, too.

You were laughing, again, but he wasn’t really sure why. It might’ve been something he said, your own little joke, but he didn’t mind the sound, all bells and wind chimes and a practiced ease that threatened to divert his focus, as he tried to keep his eyes on the road. You were slumped in the passenger seat, and if he checked, he was sure you’d be looking out the window, counting turns, memorizing street names, doing what little you could to track the convoluted, darkened route he’d been sure to plan out days ago. You’d come willingly, but you wanted to make sure you’d be able to find your way back without his help. For his own sake, Touya pretended you were just being cautious. 

“I didn’t expect a Hero to live so far from the city.” Your voice was just as light, just a notch more confident than it had been at the convenience store you both frequented, the one you’d been working at when he stumbled in, closer to sunrise than sunset and ready to fall in love with the first person who smiled at him. The job hadn’t lasted, but Touya couldn’t think of a reason to mourn the loss. You wouldn’t have been desperate enough to take him up on his offer, if you still had a steady income. “Didn’t mark you down as one of those ‘cabin in the woods’ types, either. I’m not going to find, like, a box of dismembered body parts or anything, right?” 

“Obviously,” He scoffed, his tone just playful enough to be disarming. “I try to keep my victims in one piece. Hackjobs aren’t as satisfying as you’d think.”

That earned a jab to his side, an offended ‘my hackjob would be’, but you lost interest in the exchange as soon as he reached the driveway, coming to a stop in front of that sprawling, climbing villa, three stories of concrete and glass, a stark contrast from the forest that surrounded it. You took a moment to take it in, scanning over the building, a predator evaluating its docile prey. When you turned towards Touya, your smile was just a little wider, your expression just a little brighter. “I really can’t thank you enough,” You went on, your tone so sentimental, Touya could almost ignore the hollowness behind it. “You sure you’re alright with this? My last place fell through, but I’m sure I’ll be able to find somewhere else to--”

“Don’t worry about that. All this is curtesy of the Hero Commission, and they don’t keep track of who comes ang goes.” Touya didn’t wait for you to finish, he didn’t have to, even if he did let himself enjoy your faux-gratitude as he undid his seatbelt. “Besides, it’s my job, right? I wouldn't want to find out you went and got yourself hurt because I couldn’t be bothered to clean out my guest room.” There was a slight pause, a short hesitation. You flinched when he raised his hand, but you didn’t pull away as he cupped your cheek, only learning into his warm palm. “Besides, I can’t say I’d mind a little company, all alone out here.”

In his defense, he wasn’t going to kiss you. Really, he wasn’t that mean, but he didn’t have a chance to refuse, not before your lips were on his, your hands in his hair, all sudden passion and over-eager excitement. He was stunned, at first, but Touya recovered quickly. Biting back a smirk, he leaned into the gesture, slinging an arm around your hip, tilting your head back and doing whatever he could to bring you close, to keep you close, just like he’d been dying to for months, now. He could feel you stifle a laugh, moving to pull away, but Touya only drifted to your neck, nipping at the edge of your jaw before he found your jugular, aiming for the sensitive area just above it. You only chuckled, blunt nails running over his scalp. “And I thought I was the needy one,” You chided, half-hearted pushing at his chest. “It’s cold out here, Todoroki. At least take me inside first.” 

Right. Of course. He got carried away.

He almost forgot why you were actually here.

He didn’t let you go. He didn’t want to, so he didn’t bother trying, pulling you over the center console in one swift motion, leaving you in his lap, his face buried in the crook of your shoulder and an arm under your thighs, supporting your weight as he jerkily kicked open the door, letting you duck your head and giggle, always giggling, always trying to pretend to be meek and harmless and innocent. He wondered if you’d stop, eventually, if you’d drop the act once he decided both of you should show your true colors. He’d be lying if he said he hated the idea of choking it out of you. 

The front door wasn’t locked. He didn’t bother, not with his profession, not when he knew he’d be coming home with you, tonight. If you noticed, you didn’t seem to mind, focusing on locking your ankles behind his back, on swallowing down that small, pained groan as he slammed your back into the nearest wall of his darkened villa just a little too hard, pretending not to notice as your smile wavered in the minimal light. “I don’t think this counts as protecting the--” 

You were cut off by a loud thud, metallic and hollow, like someone hitting drywall with a baseball bat. You paused, for a second, your gaze flickering to the space behind him, but he was quick to kiss your cheek, to bring your attention back to where it should be, on him. “‘s just my roommate,” He mumbled, hoping you’d be too used to the excuse to linger on it. “Don’t pay it too much mind. He’s probably just fucking around.” 

This time, your smile dropped completely. “The Hero Commission... lets you have a roommate?” 

He caught his mistake a second too late. He opened his mouth, ready to explain, but another noise interrupted him, a rattling this time, followed by another deafening, irritating thud. He grit his teeth, but you only stiffened, your next shove to his chest a little more insistent than the last. “He might be hurt,” You started, the concern in your voice more genuine than it’d been all night. “We should check on him, that sounds--” 

“It’ll be fine.” He spoke a little too quickly, a little too aggressively. Instantly, your eyes widened, your entire body going tense against his, and Touya had to fight not to lose his composure completely. It was too soon. It was too early. He wanted to be sweet. He didn’t want to be mean, not with you. “Just ignore it, sweetheart, it’s not important. You’re here for me, right? The brat shouldn’t--” 

It was a slip-up. A petname so common, he hardly noticed he’d said it until you were scrambling, writhing, digging your nails into his biceps deep enough to break the skin, forcing him to let you go out reflex alone. You barely managed to catch yourself, but you stayed on your feet, shoving past Touya while he was still hissing out curses, clutching at bleeding wounds and broken scars. There was another thud, and you moved to sprint in the direction it’d come from, but he was a Hero, he was trained for this. You were on the ground before you could take a step, Touya straddling your stomach, his hands around your neck. He didn’t squeeze, though, he didn’t want to strangle you. He was going to be patient. This was going to be different. “Just behave,” He growled, fighting to hold onto the last threads of his restraint. “It’s not important. I’m important, and that’s all you have to care about. That’s all you’re ever going to care about, from now on.”

You didn’t hesitate. As soon as he finished, you were jerking forward, your forehead colliding with his and forcing a ragged scream from both of you. He’d give you credit for that. Villains and Heroes fought with quirks, specialized weapons, tactics and strategies and purpose. This was blunt. This was thoughtless. It was impulsive, and it was stupid, and it worked, letting you push him away as he recoiled, suddenly too focused on his pounding skull to care about what you might find. It wouldn’t matter, anyway. None of your little tantrums would.

He’d find you, eventually. After that, the results would be the same.

That might’ve been why Touya took his time, pushing himself to his feet slowly, following the sound of your footsteps before they abruptly stopped. He tried not to be bothered by it, even if there was a familiar pang of anxiety when he saw you, your mouth agape and your body slack, leaning against a door that should not be open. He might’ve walked a little faster, out of habit, but if you noticed him, you were too distracted to care. He couldn’t blame you. Not when he knew what you were looking at. 

He got a little carried away, with the girls’ room. Pale pink paint coated on every surface, fairy-lights strung along the ceiling, and a white, circular rug, fluffy and stainless and just small enough to stop before it reached the three cots, settled along each of the walls, each with its own frilly sheets and plush mattress and bare, metallic frame, something Touya might’ve considered swapping out if their opponents were a little more grateful. Two were empty, the first a spare if he needed room for a future ‘guest’ and the second a reminder to check on the bitch in his basement, and the third was on its side. That was what you were focusing on, what he couldn’t seem to pull you away from as he slotted himself against your back, wrapping an arm loosely around your waist. 

That, and the girl sitting in front of it, a ball-gag stuffed in her mouth and a collar around her neck, thick and leathery and attached to a chain, keeping her tethered to the nearest wall. There were a few noticeable dents in the plaster around her bracket, but Touya had better things to worry about. 

There was a garbled scream, something that might’ve been a warning, but Touya silenced her off with a glare sharp enough cut glass. “Shut it,” He barked, all pretense of patience gone. “Shut up, or you’re going to spend the next week in a muzzle. I’ll deal with you later.”

“You kidnapped her.” At least you waited your turn, even if the delay did little too soften the disgust in your voice. “You’re a monster. You’re supposed to be--” 

“A hero?” You tried to shove him away, to pry him off of you, but he only tightened his grip. “And you’re supposed to be an innocent civilian, aren’t you? Something soft and appreciative I can feel good about helping, fuck, and forget about the next day, right?” 

“Don’t try to--” 

“Where do you keep the bottle, sweetheart?” Now, it was your turn to go tense, to know he saw something he shouldn’t have seen. “Don’t lie to me. It won’t be pretty, if we start off this relationship on a bad foot.” 

You hesitated, for a moment. He saw your swallow, watched your eyes dart towards anything that could’ve been considered a weapon, but his fingers slipped under your shirt and you bowed your head, giving in at the slightest threat of something worse. He liked that about you. Such a simple thing, too afraid of pain to take the risk. “My jacket. There are pockets on the inside - it’s on the right.” 

He’d give you credit. It looked realistic, if nothing else, a translucent orange bottle with a white lid, the label scratched off in a way that could’ve been mistaken for nervous fidgeting, if Touya didn’t know better. With one hand, he popped off the lid, barely glancing at the unmarked pills inside before letting out a pleased hum. 

Sedatives. Not lethal, but effective. The type you could get from any low-ranking Villain with a surplus supply and a greater need for clients than most. 

The type that could be slipped into wine glasses, mixed into water. The type that’d keep your trusting, unsuspecting host nice and unconscious while you helped yourself to anything that wasn’t nailed down. While you robbed him blind, stowed yourself away in another cheap motel room two towns over, and scouted for the next poor guy who’d be too embarrassed to say anything.

Touya couldn’t help himself. He laughed, loudly and shamelessly, watching as you withered, glaring at the tiled floor. He couldn’t tell if it was fear of loathing, half-suspended terror or that deep, ingrained hatred any good predator should feel when it’s caught in a trap, but your voice couldn’t have made it more clear. “What’s your plan?” You spat, all humiliation, all spirited, adorable anger. His grin widened, the lasting tension in his shoulders dissolving, but if you noticed how much he enjoyed your little show, you didn’t bother trying to keep your mouth shut. “Arrest me? Hand me over to the police and let me tell them all about your creepy, fucked-up dollhouse?” You never looked up. You never so much as tried to meet his eyes, let alone glance at the ‘victim’ you’d been so intent on saving a few minutes ago. “Let me go. You don’t have another choice, unless you’re willing to get your hands dirty.” 

“Oh, don’t worry about that, I’m not gonna kill you.” It wasn’t a lie, but you didn’t seem to believe him, going rigid as his lips brushed against the nape of your neck. It was a fleeting gesture, but he didn’t let himself linger. He’d have plenty of time for that once he got you used to your new role, under his care. Once you got used to him. “I’m not gonna hand you over, either. That’d just be a waste.”

He might’ve been a little mean, after all. If he wasn’t, he wouldn’t have given you so much time to answer, so much time to tremble. At least you didn’t try to get away, this time. You were already learning. “I… I don’t--” 

“I’m going to take care of you, angel. Just like I’m taking care of her.”

There was a moment of stillness, a small, ragged sob, but Touya couldn’t bring himself to feel guilty. He couldn’t bring himself to feel anything but satisfied. 

Because Todoroki Touya had a problem. Because he was awful and hungry and greedy, and he had a problem.

And he wasn’t sure he wanted to fix it.

[keichan]

The Confession (Part 2)

You had a crush on your friend Bokuto Koutarou in high school. Though he rejected you, you moved on years later. Or so you thought.

Part 1

wc: 2.3k

A/N: This was requested through an anon however I won’t be taking requests off of originals anymore. Truthfully this was really difficult to write since the rejection was actually something that had happened to me about a month ago with a pretty good friend of mine. Anyways feel free to send me requests and headcannons of other things! My inbox is DRY!!

“Hey. Let me in.” Bokuto’s voice sounded clear as day over the phone.

“I didn’t know you were back in Tokyo. Why are you outside the apartment?” You were on the brink of sleep when he called.

“Didn’t Akaashi tell you that I was visiting? It’s been a while. C’mere.”

You sighed. Bokuto has tried his best to keep in touch with you since he had graduated. The first year was simple per usual. Though you admitted you distanced yourself from him. However since you and Akaashi became roommates and started college. You just didn’t have time.

“Hey. “ You quietly opened the front door to let him in. He looked good as ever. He pulled you tightly into a hug as he sighed into your hair. 

“Long time no see, huh?” He pulled away and started walking towards your bedroom. You yawned as you followed him inside. He stood at the door way as he studied the walls. You tapped on his shoulder gently and stepped around him to sit on your bed.

“So are you gonna crash on the couch again?” You yawned. He nodded. Still standing.

“I’ve had something on my mind for a while now and I’ve gotta say, I was wrong.” He said plainly.

“About?” You body perked up in bed. His golden eyes turned to you. The moonlight that peaked through the blinds illuminated his face.

“I didn’t think I’d be able to do it, but I have more time than I could have imagined since I’ve gone pro-“

“What are you talking about?” You propped yourself up, swinging your legs onto the ground. Bokuto wasn’t the kind of person to sound cryptic. 

He sat on the bed beside you, now looking to the ceiling. Studying the cracks, the texture before returning his gaze to you.

“You know. Two years ago I said no because I thought it would be more beneficial for the both of us. I didn’t want to hinder you at all. So I acted like it meant nothing.” He sighed as he laid onto your bed. Eyes back to the ceiling. You swallowed a lump in your throat. What was he talking about?

“I don’t even know if you’d even still be interested. I mean we don’t talk as much. It was even a little awkward for a while.” He continued.

“I was hoping that you would want to give it a try.” He closed his eyes as he sucked in a breath, flailing his arms behind him.

“Give what a try?” 

His body shot straight up and he looked at you knowingly.

“You know!” 

Your hand quickly clamped onto his mouth. 

“Akaashi’s asleep right now. You need to be quiet.” 

He nodded as your hand slid down onto your lap.

“You know!” He whispered. “When you asked me out and I said no.  That whole thing. I want to date. Or at least try.” 

You gave him a dumbfounded look. 

“You’re funny, Bokuto. I’ll give you that. I think I’m going to go to sleep now, I’ll see you tomorrow.” You began to get under your blankets, facing away from Bokuto.

“But, I”m being serious.” 

“Goodnight, Bokuto.” You heard him sigh as the weight from the foot of your bed lifted. Your bedroom door creaked closed. You stared at your bedroom wall. The smallest, dumbest conversation made your feelings resurface.

-

“So where is she?” Bokuto dug into the breakfast that Akaashi had prepared for them.

“Oh? She’s on a breakfast date with some guy from her biology class.” 

Bokuto froze with his spoon in his mouth.

“Date?” His voice is slightly muffled by the utensil. Akaashi nodded as he pressed his coffee cup to his lips. The steam fogged up his glasses ever so slightly. 

“Yeah. I think he asked her last Friday. She left about two hours ago.” He placed the cup on the table looking at him knowingly. Bokuto stared into his food and flipped it over, cutting it into small bits. Akaashi glanced at his friend as the front door opened.

“Hey! Oh Akaashi! I didn’t know you were cooking this morning!” You looked over the counter before you reached into the cabinet to  grab yourself a plate.

“You’re still hungry?” He questioned.

“Yeah! We ended up eating pretty quick and walked around the park off of campus! It was pretty nice!” Once you realized that Bokuto was poking at his food, you sunk awkwardly into the chair next to him. He didn’t say a word or even look at you.

“So!” You took a bite of your second breakfast.  “What do you two have planned out today?”

“I have to go to a study group for English tonight. I’m not doing too well.” Akaashi stood to pour himself another cup of coffee. The sound of the liquid sputtering into the glass raised an unbeknownst tension between you and the gray-haired man beside you.

“I guess we can watch movies or something.” Your stomach dropped with the realization that your roommate has class at noon. Akaashi checked his watch as he slung his bag over his shoulder.

“I’m going to class. See you guys.” As soon as the door closed the silence was deafening. It felt like the two of you were sitting there for an hour, when in all reality the two of you finished eating in silence for three minutes. You made a poor excuse that you were going to take a nap. He tried to bicker with you to spend time with him, but you ignored the man as your bedroom door loudly closed behind you.

-

You groaned as you sat up in bed. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you rose and made your way to the kitchen. You slowed as you saw Bokuto looking around in the fridge. Using his other hand he was using a towel to dry his hair.

You let out a breath you didn’t know that you were holding. What do you say? Or do you not say anything. May as well pretend that the run in never happened. Again…

Turning on you heel, you proceeded to go back to your room, when a hand grabbed your shoulder,

“Y/N.” You turned to see Bokuto. Face to face he gave you a small smile. Drops of water littered his forehead. He was so close. 

“When are we gonna talk about last night? Or are you gonna brush it off until I leave?” He spoke in a low tone. His eyes not leaving yours once. You attempted to turn away from him, but he yanked your wrist towards him. Nose to nose now, you gulped as you leaned away from him, but he followed.

“Why’re you avoiding me?” His eyes reflected the dim light from your kitchen stove. 

“I’m not-”

“I know when you’re lying to me.” HIs grip tightened slightly. Bokuto’s breath fanned your face. Your eyes scurried, looking everywhere, but him.

“Just tell me.” He said gently.

“You don’t get to do this to me.” You squeezed your eyes shut, turning your head away from him once more,

“Do what?”

“Do you understand how long it took for me to get over you? I had to pretend like it didn’t bother me for the end of the year! I never ever told Akaashi what happened because I didn’t want it to affect the dynamic of our friendship. I was in love with you and I had to deal with that. You don’t get to tell me that you were wrong and you finally want to go out. You don’t get to say whatever you want so loosely when I know it doesn’t affect you the way it does me!” 

HIs hand fell slack to his side. His head tilted to the side. His face was solemn.

“You know that’s not true.” His voice was barely above a whisper. You held your wrist that he held to your chest. At this point your body was trembling. You didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or yell.

“I knew you liked me. I didn’t want to hold you back at all. I didn’t want to be a let down to you when I left. I took the last two years to be a better version of myself so that we can work out. I just wanted to be normal for you.” He clasped his hands together awkwardly. You nodded before waking to your room. He called after you, his footsteps creaking after yours. You slid down to the floor. You felt the door shudder on the other side, assuming Bokuto had done the same, tears began to slide down your cheeks.

Hugging your knees to your chest, Bokuto began to speak on the other side of the door.

“You know. From the moment I saw you I liked you. You accepted me for me and I loved that. I loved spending time with you everyday. I enjoyed every second of it. These negative thoughts kinda began to eat at me.” He choked on his sentence. You heard a deep inhale before he continued. “What if you get sick of me. I saw how my teammates would treat me sometimes. But I couldn’t help with the way I acted. It was just me. I couldn’t change that some things had me down in the dumps. Then it was the whole what if she likes me back? She’ll date me and then look at me how everyone else does. She’ll be around me too long and I’ll have to put up a front that’s actually appealing to you so you won’t leave. Just you leaving.” His voice faded. 

You studied the wood floors at your feet. The way the crevices connected into each other. You made patterns along them to pass the time. Words couldn’t escape your lips. The minutes passing felt like hours. Your heart had a dull ache. 

“And then you said that to me in the gym that day.” He began.

“When you said that, it was everything that I had ever wanted to be truthful. Though at the same time all I could think of was why would you like me? I don’t dislike myself by any means, but I just couldn’t understand why someone as good as you could like me. I couldn’t say yes and let you down. So I said no. Then I saw you the next day and it was like nothing had happened. So I assumed that it wasn’t a big deal to you. I assumed that it was just a simple phase of your life for you. And for me…  For me..” He paused.

“I’m going to sleep. I’m sorry that I disrespected your personal boundaries. I’ll leave in the morning. I wish you the best.”

Tears silently poured from your eyes. You looked for patterns in the wooden panels again to soothe yourself. Maybe this was for the best. Just to part ways…

No.

You shakily rose to your feet, resting your hand on the doorknob, you took a deep breath before opening the door. Your legs carried you to the living room. But Bokuto wasn’t there. The blankets that he had used to sleep on the couch were nicely folded on top of the pillow he had used. His gym bag was gone.

You went to the bathroom. The lights were off. Towels were hung nicely. His toiletries were gone.

You ran your hands through your hair as your stared around the room anxiously. Tears threatened to spill from your eyes once again.

Exiting the room you made way to the kitchen. A note on the fridge.

Y/N, Akaashi

I had to get back to Osaka early! Coach called me earlier and I didn’t want to inconvenience the two of you since you guys were already asleep.

Till next time

Bo

You crumpled the note in your hand. It had probably been at least fifteen minutes since he had left your bedroom door. He couldn’t have made it that far. 

You took off through the front door. Barreling down the stairs you made it to the street. You turned the corner to the train station, you saw him.

“Koutarou!” You shouted. The tall man turned to see you. His eyes were red and puffy. He took the palm of his hand to wipe at his eyes.

“You know Tokyo is dangerous at night. You shouldn’t be running around. You’re not even wearing any shoes. What if someone littered and you stepped on a broken bottle.” He cried harder as he kept looking at you. He took both of his hands and covered his eyes.

“Koutarou, the trains aren’t running right now. Come back with me.” 

He shook his head. “I don’t want to inconvenience you. I know you don’t want to be by me right now so I’ll just sleep in the station until they start running.”

You froze in front of the man as he turned his head away from you, continuously wiping his tears away. Not once in the three years that you had known Bokuto Koutarou had you seen him cry.

You stepped towards him slowly. You arms wrapped around his back and you pulled him into a tight hug. You began to sob. You felt your body tremble as cries silently escaped through your mouth. You felt his hands clasp around your back, pulling you closer to his chest.

“Shhh.” He attempted to soothe you. Running his hand repeated over the back of your head.

“You don’t need to cry just because I can’t handle my emotions. You have that guy you’ve been getting breakfast with. You’re doing great with school. Just don’t worry about me.”

You lifted your head off of your chest to meet his gaze. He gave you a sad smile. Reassuring you that it was okay. He had streaks down his cheeks from where his tears had fallen. You used your thumb to wipe them away. 

“But he’s not you.”

You gently pulled him down by the nape of his neck and placed your lips gently on his . His eyes widened in shock. You pulled away, giving him a small smile.

“I hope you know that I would never ever get tired of you. I like you for you. Nothing could ever change that. We’ve waited long enough. Let’s finally give us a try.”

“Really?” His hands rushed up to your cheeks. He held your face as if you were the most delicate thing to exist. Tears welled up in his eyes once more.

“Really.”

He placed his lips on yours once more. Turning his head to deepen the kiss, you placed your hands gently atop of his. You could feel him smiling with every motion.

Pulling away he placed a kiss on your forehead.

“Let’s go home.” You stuck your hand out towards him smiling. Your features glowed beautifully under the streetlight. He placed his hand into yours and the two of you returned to your home.

[livexdolan]

The Cage - Part One

A/n: so hi! This is a UFC based fic about Grayson Dolan. This is an AU with an OC. There is no face claim as of now but they might change idk. I’m not going to ramble lol I’m just very very nervous. Anywho please enjoy and let me know what you think! There will be many parts to this series by the way lol so this part is kind of slow but just wait aha

Word Count: 5924

Warnings: fluff, mentions of death, explicit language, and triggering topics (maybe?) mentioned

“I’ve always wondered what it’d be like to be famous- never telling anyone but I’ve always wanted to know- wanted to get in the head of someone famous and see what they go through- but I could’ve never guessed this was how I was going to find out.

It all started when I was 22, fresh out of college, with a crappy assistant job at a publishing company in Los Angeles, California. Having been stuck at this job for almost three years and never even having my articles read, I was starting to lose hope that I would never be more than an assistant. Until one day…”

“Lily! Get in here! And bring me a coffee!” I scurry to Mr. Lane’s office, clutching the coffee I had just gone and grabbed for him, stopping by my desk to grab my notebook and pen.

I opened his glass door and put his coffee down on his desk, pushing up my glasses as I opened my notebook and clicked my pen, looking up at him expectantly, waiting for him to say what he needed me to do. He looks at me, his eyes bright at first but quickly losing their color and he sighs as though he’s already exasperated, “What is this?” He holds up a copy of a story I had put on his desk.

Oh jeez, another rejection. I push my glasses up again and start to stutter out an explanation in a quiet voice, “Well, I-I heard you talking to some of the reporters about need-needing a new story for next week's issue and well, I-I already had an idea so I thought I’d-” He cuts me off with a quick raise of his hand and a stoic look on his face, giving nothing away.

“Look,” he sighs and rubs his face with both hands before continuing, “It’s not a bad story, but it’s a half-baked idea. That’s your problem. That’s why you haven’t gotten a byline yet- you can never deliver a full idea- let alone a full article, do you understand?”

I look down, refusing to let him see my cheeks burn red and my eyes water. This is what he says every time I give him an idea. “Do you want to be a journalist?” He questions.

I make eye contact with him quickly lifting my head and squaring my shoulders to try and seem more confident, “More than anything, sir.”

“Well then, I have a proposition for you.” He gets up from his chair, his tall, lean body going to perch on the corner of his desk as he looks up at me his blue eyes sparkling with a mischievous glint, “I’ll give you a lead, and if you can follow through and get me a full 12000-word article by Monday, you can keep your job and I might throw you a lead here and there. But if you fail to deliver…” He pauses momentarily, thinking over his next words carefully, “you lose your job.”

I gasp and try to reason with myself for a second, making a mental pro-con list before replying quietly, “What’s the article on?”

He shakes his head and smirks lightly, filling my stomach with more unease, “No, you have to agree to the proposition. Then, I will tell you the story.”

Can I do this? Can I risk everything? I mean, that’s what my life’s been so far, a lot of risks and sacrifices. But is this a sacrifice I’m willing to make?

What would mom do? I sigh, “O-ok. Okay, I accept. Now, what’s the story?”

He claps his hands together excitedly and looks up at me with a boyish grin, he moves swiftly behind his desk and grabs an envelope, handing it to my shaky hands, “Grayson Dolan, he fights tonight here at the arena, go with a press pass, get an interview with him and ask him a couple of questions. Oh, and make sure we get a quote.”

I stare at him open-mouthed, frozen to my spot, “What? The Grayson Dolan?! You and I are both very aware that he refuses to do interviews. This isn’t even possible.” I say without trying to raise my voice too much.

Jace just leans back in his desk chair, lacing his fingers together and putting them behind his head, “Not my problem- it’s yours now. If I don’t have that story in my hand Monday morning, just pack your things up and leave, got it?” He smirks up at me.

I just silently walk out of his office and back to my desk, sitting down and putting my head against the cool wood surface. I don’t know if I want to cry or punch myself in the face.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“And then he told me that if I accept- but fail to give him a story- I lose my job!”

“Wow! I never liked that guy, you know. He gives off such- such a douchebag vibe.”

I can’t help but chuckle at my dad’s voice dropping a little, he hasn’t been big on cursing since mom passed. At first, it was weird because both my parents cussed when I was growing up. But after mom passed, dad decided that, ‘there’s enough hate in the world’ and that he’s not going to add to it with foul language.’

“I know Dad, but what am I supposed to do?”

“Don’t accept it! You should never risk your whole career on whether or not some guy is feeling up to an interview!”

“Ok, one-” I start, “it is not just some guy! This is Grayson Dolan! And two,” I lower my voice and chew my lip, a bad habit I picked up in middle school, “I already agreed.”

“Of course you did!” he sounds exasperated and I pull my phone away from my ear a little out of reflex, “You are just like your mother, you know that?” he sighs and the line goes quiet.

“Daddy?” I whisper into the phone. He stays silent. It’s my turn to sigh and fall back onto my couch. I mutter into the phone, “He wouldn’t tell me the story until I accepted. I have to go get ready, I’ll talk to you after the match. I’ll be sitting ringside so look for me, ok?”

“Ok, I will. I’m still not happy about this.”

“I know Dad, you’re not happy with two-thirds of the things I do.”

That gets a reluctant chuckle out of him, “I guess you’re right. Good luck, by the way. If anyone can get an interview out of Dolan- it’d be you. And if you can’t, your childhood bedroom would love to have you back.”

“Ha-ha. Thanks. I love you.”

“Love you too baby, I’ll see you soon?”

“Dad,” my stomach drops at his hopeful voice and I can’t bring myself to tell him the truth, “Maybe, bye.”

I hang up the phone before he can say anything and I sink into the couch.

I wake with a start, my neck sore from the back of the couch. Oh no. I grab my phone in a haste, I turn it on and my whole body sags in relief when the time shows up; 6:45.

I have about an hour and a half to get ready, that’s enough time!

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Wrong. Very wrong. I feel a wave of heat wash over me, igniting my anxiety as I look at the time on my phone; 7:45.

I quickly put on my normal, light makeup consisting of moisturizer, skin tint, blush on my cheeks and nose, giving me an almost sunburnt look. I shape my eyebrows a little, fix my glasses, and put on my chapstick. I quickly brush out my short, wavy hair and clip back the front parts. I shake my head slightly to get my bangs in place and do one last check in the mirror before heading to my closet.

Too pink. Too casual. Too tight. Too- ugh where did I even get that from? I start moving the hangers faster, getting frustrated with my lack of options. I move past a pastel purple dress- wait. I go back to the dress and grab it off the rod, holding it up in the light.

When did I buy this? My eyebrows furrow as I look at the beautiful and delicate dress that I must’ve forgotten about. I pull it off the hanger and slowly put it on, saying a silent prayer that it fits.

I smooth the soft material out and look in the mirror. I’m pleasantly surprised by how the dress fits. It’s silk with spaghetti straps and is a lilac color with little flowers all over it.

I don’t have time to overthink my outfit now. I throw on my roommate’s white Timberlands, grab my black purse, making sure my ID, wallet, and phone are all tucked safely inside. I grab my press pass and put the lanyard around my head carefully.

Taking a deep breath, I walk out to the living room where my roommate is sitting waiting for me to come out.

I clear my throat and try not to look too awkward. Ryan looks up from her MacBook and gasps, tossing her laptop onto the couch next to her, she moves over to me, her long legs gracefully walking around the coffee table.

She investigates every part of my outfit, making me feel small and self-conscious. Before I can stop myself, I start rambling in a quiet tone, “Is-is this too much? Do you th-think it looks okay?”

She grasps my shoulders and a wide smile makes its way onto her face, “Of course, you look amazing!” I smile at her and she winks at me, “When that pretentious ass sees you- he might want to do more than just let you interview him.”

I snort and roll my eyes and she laughs, “Yeah right,” I mumble.

She walks over to our coat rack and pulls off a small black cardigan, “Here, I know it gets cold in there,” I smile gratefully and take it from her, folding it over the crook of my arm and taking a deep breath.

I start to walk towards the door and she calls my name, I look back at her as I open the door, “You look hot Lil- knock ‘em dead,” I smile at her and nod, walking out before I get sappy.

I pull into the busy parking lot of the arena and gulp down my bubbling anxiety. I find a parking spot, towards the back of the lot seeing as I don’t get bothered by having to walk a little. I go up to the line, seeing a sign that says, ‘PRESS ENTRANCE HERE’ I smile at the worker looking at me and pointing to the Press sign and then at my pass hanging around my neck, he nods.

I go towards the other entrance and show a different security guard my pass and he opens a door for me, I smile up at him, “Thank you-” I glance at the small name tag, “Don.” He blushes slightly and coughs.

I blush too and walk through the door quickly. I realize that I’m ‘backstage’ and can hear the fans cheering for one of the main card fights happening. I check my small watch and see that it’s going to be another hour or so before Grayson Dolan fights.

I take another deep breath and start walking forward, trying not to look like a lost puppy and failing when a man wearing a UFC crew shirt comes over to me with furrowed brows, “Who’re you looking for?”

I look at him, his deep voice vibrating against the walls, “Grayson Dolan,” I answer back.

He gives me a once-over and I try not to make a face when he meets my eyes and smirks, “Oh, he’ll like you.” I furrow my brows but decide not to question it as he points down a long hallway, “Four doors down, take a right, then the last door on the left is him- the one that’ll say, Grayson Dolan.” I thanked him even though he was a bit rude, and made my way down.

Once I turn down the hallway I see someone sitting outside one of the rooms on a single chair. I make my way closer and my heart drops into my stomach when I see it’s a girl sitting outside Grayson Dolan’s room, “Hello? Are-Are you okay?”

The girl looks up at me from her phone and gives me a once-over, except it’s different from the way the worker did- she looks annoyed with me. She stands up, her high heels making her about an inch or two taller than me, “Who are you?” She asks, crossing her arms over her chest, pushing her cleavage up.

I cough to clear my throat a little, taken back by her abrasive tone, “I’m a reporter- Are you okay?”

“I’m perfectly fine, and if you’re here for Grayson Dolan- he won’t talk to you.”

“I- I’m sorry, why do you say that?” The woman steps closer to me and I try not to gag at the smell of her cheap, overused perfume. I step back from her and she straightens up slightly, glowering at me.

“Just run along, maybe you’ll understand when you’re grown,” She says, looking back at her phone, when she glances up and sees I’m not leaving she rolls her eyes, “Grayson Dolan doesn’t talk to reporters. I wouldn’t be surprised if you weren’t actually a reporter anyway, you’re probably just here to fuck him, huh? Get in line,” She laughs.

My whole body feels like it’s on fire. I don’t understand why she’s being so rude and malicious towards me but I have to get this interview. I can’t let people like her bring me down anymore. When she gives me a fake smile and sits back down, I decide to be the bigger person. Not snapping back at her and ignoring her. Because she doesn’t know me and she doesn’t know what I’ve been through.

The door opens before I can say anything anyways and we both look over, startled. A man looks over at us, then turn and glances back inside the room before he nods, looking at me, and asking what my name is, “Lily Taylor, here with Ace Publis-” I try to tell him but he cuts me off opening the door wider and my eyes widen as he tells me to come in. I try to keep from laughing when the girl asks if she can come in but he just shakes his head at her, I turn around quickly before he shuts the door, “If I were you- I wouldn’t lie to others and say you’re around his age, it’s very obvious that you’re old enough to be his mom,” And the door shuts on her shocked face.

I realize my heart is pounding in my ears and that is probably the meanest thing I’ve ever done, “I should probably apologize,” I whisper to myself and jump slightly when I hear a deep chuckle.

“What can I help you with, Ms. Taylor?” My shoulders tense at the familiar voice and I turn around slowly, facing a couch with a very amused Grayson Dolan sitting on it.

“I- I’m so sorry for being so rude to her. I didn’t mean to be.”

“Why do you think I’d care about her? She’s been sitting out there for two hours,” He laughs and I think he caught the raise of my eyebrow but ignores it, “I asked you once, Ms. Taylor, I don’t like repeating myself.” He reminds me of his question.

I square my shoulders, “I’m here with Ace Publishing & Co., I would love if you could answer some questions for me,” I smile at him, trying to come off as friendly.

His amused expression drops and he scoffs, “You’re one of them? God- here I was hoping you were a die-hard fan. Was going to make you feel very special,” He smirks at me and I scrunch my nose out of habit at his gross words. I quickly stop, realizing I need this, “Frank- show Ms. Taylor out please,” He sighs, and my eyes widen and I stick my hands out and Frank stops moving for a second.

“Wait! Wait! Please I-” Frank huffs at my refusal to move and grabs my arm as I move closer to Grayson, “Please. I wouldn’t be this adamant if I didn’t need this. Please. My career is counting on this moment. Please, I will get down on my knees and beg if I have to, please,” I put my hands in a pleading gesture, hoping he’d take pity.

He holds his hand up to Frank and he lets go of my arm, I sigh and straighten up a little, hoping to gain back some of the dignity I seemed to have lost, “What do you mean?” He cocks his head to the side curiously and I blush, glancing at the ground.

“My boss he uh- he told me that if I don’t get at least a quote from you I can kiss my job goodbye and well, it’s not the best job but I’ve worked my ass off to get where I’m at and he’s being unfair and I understand that this isn’t your problem and I understand why you don’t like to talk to interviewers-”

He cuts me off, “You know why I don’t talk to interviewers?” I look up at him and nod meekly, “Why? Explain it to me,” he crosses his arms and I think he might be upset with me.

I look back down at the ground and take a breath, glancing back up at him through my lashes, “You don’t do interviews because doing an interview is personal and revealing. You’re scar- scared to let the world see who the Grayson Dolan is because you don’t think they’ll like you as much.”

He cocks his eyebrow and uncrosses his arm, sighing, looking away from me to the wall, his tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek as he contemplates for a minute, “You got like 20 minutes to ask me whatever you want, and no stupid questions that all the interviewers ask, okay?” I nod and move to sit in the chair next to the couch.

“Do you mind if I record this? I’d like to keep this paper-free, meaning I don’t have a notebook out and try to write everything down. We’re just going to have a conversation and let it flow. I can stop recording at any time if you say something you’d like erased. I’m not here to expose you, just here to get to know you. As a person. Not as a fighter. I’m not going to ask you anything about how being a fighter’s been or what your inspiration is. I’m going to ask you about you. As a whole. Because the UFC is not your personality,” I explain to him, pulling my phone out and pulling up my voice memos app and looking back up to him, waiting for an answer.

He stares at me until finally, I say his name quietly, hoping he’s okay, he blinks and flushes, shifting, “Sorry, y-yeah, that’s okay. I just- I didn’t expect you to be like- acting like a human.”

I laugh and start recording, “Maybe that means I’m a bad journalist? I don’t know- I feel like it’s easier to connect and get the questions in without papers and cameras and all that other stuff.”

(this part is going to be a dialogue as though we are just listening to the recording)

“That makes sense, and no I can tell you’re going to be great, you treat me like I’m just- a guy, which doesn’t happen often.”

“I bet, you don’t deserve that though. Okay, I’m going to start us off with some icebreakers- so tell me what your childhood dream job was, your favorite ice cream flavor, and 3 things you do on the weekends.”

“Oh, jeez, what is this- first day of 6th grade? Fine- Uh, I always wanted to be a pro wrestler, that was my dream job as a kid. My favorite- vegan- ice cream flavor is probably mint chocolate chip. And, uhm, three things I do on the weekends...okay okay I got it; eat, sleep, workout. Now you.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you, Miss Reporter. If you want this to flow you gotta participate as well.”

“Okay, fine. Uh- as a kid I always wanted to be a veterinarian, and then when I was like 10 I realized I wanted to be a writer. My favorite ice cream flavor is probably mint chocolate chip as well. And on the weekends...I’d probably say; read, watch fights with my dad, and drink tea with my best friend at a cafe.”

“Every single weekend?”

“Yeah, my dad lives on the other side of the country so we do a FaceTime call and watch UFC together. My roommate has a job that takes up a lot of her time during the week so we go to this small cafe by our house every weekend.”

“Wow.”

(this is where the rest of the interview would be but, for later in the timeline, we aren’t going to cover every question she asks him :))

“Okay, now tell me about your family. Where you grew up, were your parents married, did you have a dog, and how do you think this all helped make you the man you are today?”

“I grew up in New Jersey; my dad left when I was 10. I’m allergic to dogs and cats, so I have a parrot named Gizmo. My mom never remarried and my sister lives with her. My brother and I moved to LA when we were 18, with no money, no job, just hope. We went to a gym and asked them if they’d train us. The next thing I knew, my brother was getting a job working at the gym and becoming one of my trainers. I learned how to fight and used my wrestling experience and worked my way into the UFC.”

“You didn’t answer my last question.”

“Yes, I did.”

“No, you told me how you got started in the UFC. I don’t want to know about that- everyone knows that story already. I want to know how you think the things you went through as a child have shaped you as a person.”

“I- I guess- I don’t know, to be honest. I don’t think much of who I’ve become so that question is hard to answer.”

“Why do you say that? You are one of the most accomplished men in America.”

“To others, but this- I wasn’t supposed to be a fighter. Everyone sees me as accomplished but I just feel like this was an accident. There was no great event in my life that caused me to become an MMA fighter- it just happened.”

“You don’t believe in fate, Mr. Dolan?”

“No, I don’t. Do you, Ms. Taylor?”

“Yes, I believe that we all have a path we are meant to follow and that everything happens for a reason.”

“Why?”

“Because- I don’t know- it’s nicer than the alternative to me, I guess. I don’t want to live in a world where nothing has a reason behind it. We’ll move on to the next question. You don’t disclose personal information; relationships, family, children, etcetera.”

“Where are you going with this?”

“Why is that? Are you afraid?”

“Afraid? Of what?”

“The same reason I said earlier as to why you don’t like interviews; you are scared people will see the real Grayson Dolan and not like you as much or think you’re different.”

“Are you like- a profiler or something? Why do you think that?”

“I’m not a profiler- I’m a journalist. It’s my job to look for clues, pick up on the small things about someone no one else would notice.”

“Ok, I’ll accept that. Is it my turn to ask you questions?”

“No that’s not how this works.”

“You said you wanted this to be like a normal conversation, did you not?”

“Yes, I did say that, but-”

“Okay, well, I don’t know about you but normally when I’m getting to know someone- I get to ask questions just like they do.”

“Fine. What do you want to know?”

“I want to know...if you’ll go out with me?”

“What? Like on a- like on a date?”

“Yes, a date, Ms. Taylor.”

“Uh- I don’t know, maybe, I-”

“30 minutes to the fight, Dolan! Gotta get you warmed-up!”

(the story is back to normal now)

“So?” He questions as he stands up and I try to gather all my stuff. Trying to push down the butterflies while I stop the recording. I just continue to get more flustered, especially when he puts his hand out for me and I shyly take it, he pulls me to my feet and I stare at him through my lashes.

“I- sure. On one condition,” I smile slyly up at him and he raises an eyebrow at me, I ignore the unfamiliar feeling between my thighs at the look on his face and continue quickly, “You have to win this fight. I’ll be in the front row watching. If you win- I’ll go out with you.”

He smiles and then chuckles, “I thought you were going to make it hard? I could win this fight in my sleep baby, I’ll let you know the time after the fight, just stick around, yeah?”

I snort and roll my eyes, ignoring the pull on my heart when he calls me baby, “I’ll be there,” He smiles at me again and I jump a little in surprise when I feel his warm, large hand on the small of my back, he opens the door for me and leads me into the hallway.

I try not to laugh at the face of the Instagram model when she sees Grayson’s hand on me, “I’ll be looking for you in the front row, just so you know.” He teases.

I smile at him and kiss him on the cheek, “I’ll be the one cheering the loudest. Knock Em dead!” I walk away quickly and glance back seeing him standing there, his right hand gently going up to touch the spot I kissed and we both blush. My heart drops into my stomach when he looks over and sees the model. I have to turn the corner and get to my seat so I don’t see how he reacted. He wouldn’t sleep with her right after asking me out, would he? My subconscious snaps back; you barely know the man! Maybe he does this all the time! I push her down and ignore the bad feeling in my gut.

As I sit down in my seat, everything that just happened hits me and I slouch into my seat, what. the. fuck. I’m going on a date with Grayson Dolan! I got an interview with Grayson Dolan! I kissed Grayson Dolan on the cheek! I bite back a smile and take out my phone, taking a video showing me smiling at the camera, then flipping the camera around and showing off how close I am to the octagon. I sent it to my dad quickly.

He responds almost immediately.

*From Daddy: Wow!! So cool! Have tons of fun! Not too much though! Not ready to be a grandpa...yet ;)

I snort and roll my eyes, responding and then turning my phone off when the lights in the arena dim.

*To Daddy: Lmao, shut up. I’ll try to have fun though! The main card is starting! I’ll talk to you later, love you <3

After I watch a few of the fights before Graysons’, I take some pictures and jot down some information about the fights and who won, knowing it’ll add more substance to my piece.

I watch as the whole arena transforms and the whole place is bursting with barely-contained energy and the place goes dark. Suddenly, lights start beaming and music starts playing, I smile at the Kid Cudi (each fight he uses a different Cudi song) choice for tonight- Enter Galactic as it blasts through the speakers everyone goes wild, Grayson moving swiftly to the octagon with his head low and singing the song softly to himself. I can tell he’s not the same Grayson I was talking to, he has flipped the switch- as he told me he does- and is now The Grayson Dolan- UFC Fighter and Champion.

He takes his shirt off and I blush at his tan skin, the rippling muscles making my brain go straight in the gutter. The ‘doc’ pats him down and puts vaseline on his face. I try not to laugh at how weird he looks with his eyebrows slicked down.

He makes his way into the octagon and I see him scanning the front row when his eyes land on mine. I smile at him but he just gives me a curt nod in response before turning away. I’m taken aback by his attitude but I know he has to stay in his fighter mentality.

The other fighter, Dominick Reyes, comes in and he has a good amount of people cheer for him but the majority of the arena boos when he comes out. I know that having some of how this fight goes in my article will make it look better because it’s such a big deal, so I jot some notes down, some about Grayson and some about Reyes.

I subconsciously chew on my nail, scolding myself when I realize what I’m doing. He’s going to win. I tell myself to calm down, I’ve never been to a fight before so the chaotic and anxiety-filled energy around me must be getting to my head.

The ref announces them both, and then they go to the middle, Grayson goes to touch Reyes’ fist, but Reyes pulls back and smirks at Grayson, “C’mon pretty boy,” he sings.

Grayson’s jaw clenches and he starts moving around the octagon, Reyes slowly falling into a pattern of chasing him around. Grayson continues to step to the right until suddenly, he moves to the left, and Reyes doesn’t see it. I watch in astonishment as he puts all of his power into the punch, hitting Reyes perfectly on the temple. Reyes drops to the ground and Grayson’s about to follow him to the mat but the ref stops him, officially calling the fight. Grayson looks over at me, my mouth hanging wide open and he smirks, winking at me.

That asshole just winked at me.

I stand up quickly, cheering loudly with everyone else and he shakes his head, turning back to his team as they run into the octagon to hug him. Once Grayson is done with everything and the crowd starts shuffling out, Grayson comes over to me, “D’you see that?” He smiles and I smile back.

“Yeah, yeah, I saw,” He chuckles and grabs my arm pulling me into him.

I gasp as I hit his hard, sweaty chest, “You’re sweaty,” I scrunch my nose up and try to pull away but he tightens his grip, staring down at me with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“You owe me a date,” He responds and I roll my eyes, ignoring the hammering of my heart at how close we are to each other.

“What time and where?” I say, acting bored.

He chuckles down at me, “I’ll pick you up at 5:30. This Saturday. Just bring your beautiful self and don’t worry about anything else.”

“What’s the dress code?” I raise my eyebrow and he shrugs.

“Whatever you want to wear, although I’ll tell you right now they might frown upon you wearing lingerie or something like that.”

I snort and as he moves away from me a little and we start walking behind his team I realize that I’m a lot colder than I realized, rubbing my arms subconsciously and realizing that I left my sweater in the car damn it.

Grayson notices me rubbing my arms and bumps my shoulder, “You cold?”

“A little. I have a sweater in the car, I’ll be fine.”

He frowns as he opens the door to his dressing(?) room, “I have a jacket you can wear.”

He goes over to a chair in the corner and grabs a big, soft black jacket with DOLAN on the back and the UFC and Reebok logo on the front. I shake my head, “No, r-really it’s- it’s okay,”

“Just take it, you can give it back later, s’not a big deal, I don’t need it. I’m way too hot right now.”

He hands it over to me and I look down at it in his hands and then glance back at him, crossing my arms. He rolls his eyes and comes over to me, putting it on my shoulders and looking down at me, “Just wear it. Please?” He whispers and I flush, seeing that if I moved too fast our lips would be touching.

I nod softly and he steps back. I take a deep breath and put my arms through the sleeves and the jacket immediately warms me. I relax into the warmth and pull it tighter around me and he smirks, “Like you in my clothes.”

I blush and look down, “I- I should be goi-going,” I point my thumb at the door and he bites back a smile.

“Yeah, I’ll see you Saturday then?”

I nod and stutter out a response as I walk back to the door, “Y-yep! 5:30! Wait- I didn’t give you my address o-or my phone num-Ow!” I yelp in surprise when the door handle digs into my lower back and he can’t hold back his laugh as he walks over to me, trapping me between him and the door.

I swallow at his large frame covering me up, his arms resting on each side of the wall by my head, I can see his large biceps and the veins running up his arms in my peripheral vision. He smirks and leans down, “Check your pocket,” he says softly and I look up at him with furrowed brows.

I slowly move my hands to the jacket pockets and after digging around a little I feel a small piece of paper in the right pocket. I pull it out and open it up. I glance up at him in surprise at the digits scribbled onto the paper.

“H-How did you- why-” He cuts me off by moving away from me, my body on fire from how close he had been to me.

I move off the door when he motions for me to move and he opens the door, “Ms. Taylor,” He says, trying to hide a smirk.

I scoff incredulously and walk past him, stopping outside the door in the cold hallway, I turn back to look at him before I walk away to go have a panic attack in my car, “Mr. Dolan.”

A/n: okayyy so I know it’s bad and I’ll be editing it soon but I’m posting this on an ipad lmfao so please cut me some slack.

Tag List:

@pineappledols @episkygrant @georgia302 @dolan-habits @leahs-existentialcrisis @persistence-ofmemories @bubsdolan @ohdolans @vinylhazza​ @vintagedolan​​ @astrodolan @zeusgrayson @deeperdolan @blindedbythelightt @dolsobsessionz @evergreendolan​ @dicedols @plantbasedgray

[prettywordsyouleft]

Something For You

Pairing: Jackson Wang x female reader

Genre: fluff / roommates to lovers

Warnings: implied nudity through bathing

Word count: 1855

Jackson couldn’t watch you hobble about in good conscience anymore. It had been going on for days now, and each time he saw you, it seemed that your legs were barely coping with the strenuous activity you were enduring.

“I’ll be fine,” you told him whenever he questioned your unusual gait, the grimace mixed in with your smile not convincing him in the slightest. You were definitely in pain, the gasps of air and the deliberate effort it took for you to get out of a chair only concerning him further.

He knew your office moving buildings was going to be exhausting, but Jackson wondered if you were doing too much. Had you not hired movers to lift the heavier items? Surely it would be cost-effective to employ manpower than run yourself past the point of no return.

Deciding he had to do something – anything – for you, Jackson stopped by a pharmacy on his way home. Armed with various muscle soaks and topical creams, he waited for you to return to the apartment you shared. Dinner was being served up when you made your way through the front door, struggling to get up the step into the living area.

Shaking his head, Jackson came over and helped you before clucking his tongue at you. “Enough, Y/N.”

“Huh?”

“You need to rest.”

“There’s one more day of-”

“You won’t survive another day of this,” he pointed out, and your gaze lowered knowingly. Jackson sighed before pushing a smile onto his lips. “I cooked dinner.”

“You didn’t have to.”

“Were you going to stand here after doing all you have today and fix yourself something nutritious?” he wondered, and your brief look in his direction confirmed his suspicions. “Ramen is not going to help you recover back your energy!”

“Thank you,” you mentioned as you allowed him to help you over to the table where a pasta dish sat waiting. It took you some angling of your body before you managed to sit down comfortably enough, and then you eyed the food with interest. “Woah, you went all out!”

“Hardly. Maybe I need to cook more often around here if you think this pasta dish is me putting on a good display of my cooking skills,” he boasted, and you giggled, a sound he hadn’t heard from you all week. It fuelled Jackson on, ensuring you spent the meal smiling the whole time. Although you had only been housemates for a short period of time, you were special to him. And after you had helped him get over a cold last month, watching you suffer now made him determined to return the favour.

It also just pained him far too much as a fellow human to see you struggle.

After dinner, you headed into your bedroom, and Jackson waited twenty minutes before launching into phase two. He started running you a bath, adding a generous amount of the muscle soak to the water. The bubbles overfilled the tub, and he was satisfied with how inviting it looked.

Knocking gently on your door, Jackson then entered your space, finding you at your desk, slumping over your laptop with evident distress from how much your back hurt. Jackson came to your side and shut the lid down. “I said rest!”

“Jackson! I have to find some time to work too!”

“Not tonight. You’ve done enough.”

“I’m too sore to go to bed and sleep right now,” you mumbled in response, and he nodded, helping you to your feet.

“I know, which is why I did something for you.”

You glanced at him curiously. “What?”

“Come with me,” he urged, helping you into the bathroom and the pointed to his efforts.

However, your reaction wasn’t what he had hoped for. “Oh. A bath.”

“I stopped by a pharmacy and picked you up a muscle soak,” he explained and whilst your eyes flashed with gratitude, you still didn’t seem overwhelmed. Perhaps you were too tired to show such emotion.

“I’ll leave you to enjoy it. Make sure you stay in there until the water cools off!” he enthused, shutting the door behind himself.

Jackson hoped it would relieve some of the tension.

The following morning over breakfast, Jackson eyed you carefully. You seemed to be ambling along with a little more ease, and this brightened his mood tremendously. You had gone to bed right after the bath last night, so he didn’t have a chance to ask if it helped until now.

You glanced up at him and smiled awkwardly. “I mean, it helped. Thank you.”

“Why do I sense a but in there?” he asked cautiously, and you bit at your bottom lip. “Did I overstep my boundaries as a housemate?”

“Oh no!” you gushed, waving your hands about dismissively. “It’s just… I don’t really have baths.”

“Ah.”

“It’s nothing traumatic, so don’t worry. I’m touched you thought to help me as you did. I don’t understand the concept of baths, though. I mean, what do you exactly do in them?”

Jackson frowned. “Well, you lay there and relax.”

“You and I both know I don’t know how to do that well,” you replied with a chuckle, shaking your head softly. “I sat there, and for a bit it was nice, but then my brain got bored with laying there and I started to overthink about things. How long do you wait it out?”

Jackson stared at you for a moment in silence, and then a snort left him. It was followed by a loud bout of laughter until he had to hold onto his side and try to calm himself down when he noticed your arched eyebrow. “I’m sorry. I’ve never heard anyone complain about how to take a bath before.”

“Well, my points make some sense. You see in the movies everyone is covered and soaking with pure happiness, drinking wine or reading a book. I don’t drink wine, and wouldn’t the book get wet if you lay down to cover yourself properly? Maybe it’s because I’m not as thin as those in movies. I definitely had to move around to keep parts of my body that were exposed warm in there.”

“You’re serious.”

“Completely,” you responded, and Jackson’s humour eased. He hadn’t ever thought about it. He had just taken a bath when his body required it and not really contemplated what it would be like for others.

“So it didn’t help you at all?” he wondered, slightly dejected. He had hoped you would feel better from it.

You sighed heavily. “That’s the problem I’m faced with. It did. My legs didn’t hurt as much to get out of bed this morning. So I guess I now need to learn how to enjoy a bath until I feel better.”

“I can help you,” he offered, and you cocked your head to the side with his words. Jackson grinned. “Not physically. But maybe I can give you some distractions to allow the soak time to not end in a rumination session.”

“Really?”

“Sure. If it’s helped even a little, it’s worth trying again, right?”

That night, you came home and had a bath. Jackson had recommended you listen to a podcast during the session, and it appeared you lasted longer in there. The following day, you had another and mentioned after that you had played with the bubbles for a bit as you once had as a child.

You seemed more relaxed within the bathtub.

And your legs, once swollen and hard to maneuver, were starting to look better from what he could tell. Jackson was pleased his efforts had helped with some of the recovery.

You smiled brightly at him when he returned home from work the next evening. Jackson gaped at you and then back at the door. “Since when do you beat me home from work?”

“Since I listened to your advice and took the afternoon off. And I had another bath.”

He smirked. “I thought you weren’t a bath person?”

“Well, that muscle soak really helped ease the pain. I figured it was worth getting through my discomfort if it meant I could function again.”

“So I did something right by you?”

“Don’t you always? You’re the best housemate I’ve ever had,” you told him genuinely, and Jackson was surprised that your compliment made his stomach erupt in flutters.

Blinking several times, he wondered if there was more to how special you were to him now.

“I’m going to run you a bath. I need to do something for you!”

Jackson chuckled heartily as he slowly moved through the house. It was ironic how years ago he had been the one to convince you of the magic in relaxation for your aching body in the bathtub. Now, he didn’t even have to say much to hear the tub filling up regularly. You poked your head around the corner of the bedroom door and grinned at him. “I put a lot of muscle soak in. I thought you said you were fit.”

“I didn’t realise that playing tennis against a pro would hurt this much,” Jackson lamented, and you pouted, walking towards him and reaching out for the bottom of his sports tee, lifting it over his head as gently as you could.

Jackson hissed as his shoulders dropped too quickly, and the pain seared again.

“You poor baby,” you cooed, and Jackson nodded, relishing in the special care you were giving him in his time of need.

It was out of compassion that the pair of you had gone from housemates to something more intimate. He had helped you when you suffered from pain moving office, and then you helped him when he got stressed out. With each time that you did something for the other, you grew closer, and soon it was at a level where you loved on each other through the hardships and highlights that life threw at you both.

Just as right now, your adoration was evident as you led Jackson down to the bathroom.

He eased into the tub with several groans, and you ran your hand repeatedly through his hair, hoping to relax him further. It was working, as was the muscle soak on his weary body.

“Can I get you anything?” you asked, and Jackson nodded once. “What do you need?”

“You.”

“I’m right here.”

Jackson nodded towards the bathtub. “It’s big enough for us both to share.”

“You are sore,” you pointed out and rolled your eyes when he pouted dramatically. “Seriously?”’

“I’m sure I’ll feel much better with your comfort in here with me.”

“Are you after a massage, Jackson Wang?”

He grinned. “That would be nice.”

“I’ll make sure you pay me back when it’s my next bout of body issues,” you warned as you started to strip off your clothes, stepping into the tub and moving close enough so you could work on the knots in his shoulders.

Jackson stared at you for a moment before shifting close enough to reach your lips, kissing you passionately. When he pulled away, Jackson smiled up at you. “I like baths better when they’re with you.”

_________________

All rights reserved © prettywordsyouleft

[GOT7 Masterlist] | [Main Masterlist] | [Request Guidelines]

[official-weasley]

First Date (Bill Weasley x OC one-shot)

Warnings: fluff + fluff = this story

Word count: 3,317

Characters: Bill Weasley and my OC Theodora from the story Love, William which you can find here

A/N: First of all I am back! Second of all, I have more ideas for Bill and Theo 🙈 Third of all, I bring fluff! Fourth of all, I am done creating new OCs for a while and want to spend some time creating and bonding with my 3 girls (mostly Nova and Theo because I only have 5 ideas for Rhylee but 47 for Nova (no, she's not my favorite, what are you talking about?)) so you can expect more one-shots from my previous OCs rather than new stories 🥰

“Theo, come down here a sec!”

Theodora peered over the top of her book toward the door and sighed. One of these days, she might get to finish a chapter without her having to leave the room and check out what the twins need.

With them, it was always a guess – either it was something serious and had to do with the shop or they called her just to see her annoyed face when they would tell her that they already took care of it.

“Yes?” She said, halfway down the stairs.

“There's a package for you.” George grinned at her and gave her a rather big box.

“Who is it from?” Theodora's interest was piqued.

“There's no card. There's probably a message inside.” Fred pursed his lips, thinking.

“Is it from Bill?” George sent a wink to Theodora.

It has been 3 days since Bill came to the shop and very spontaneously kissed Theodora full on the mouth. 3 days and Theodora still can't stop thinking about it.

After the twins went away, letting the pair have a private moment, Bill officially asked her out on a date. He was very secretive about it – giving away only the date and the time and saying that she should wear something more formal.

Theodora was so enchanted by the kiss that she simply nodded to everything Bill said and it wasn't until the next day when she started to think about what she is going to wear – wanting to impress Bill – that she realized she has absolutely nothing that would fit the category 'more formal'.

She liked her clothes simple. Tank tops and linen shorts for the summer. Jeans and long-sleeved shirts – preferably in dark green or burgundy red – for the winter. There was nothing in between. She never had the need to buy other clothes and she liked to be comfy – especially since they opened the shop and it was so busy all the time.

The morning after Bill's visit, she threw every pair of pants and every shirt out of her closet. The most formal thing in there was her old Hogwarts uniform and she can't show up in that – Bill would think she has lost her mind.

She sat on her bed, trying to find a gap in her work schedule where she could slip out and get a dress or something. Her face screwed in an uncomfortable expression – she was not a type of a woman to wear dresses. But on the second hand, Bill might like that and if she was completely honest with herself, she never gave dresses a proper chance.

She let out a panicked sigh when she acknowledged that she won't have enough free time in the next 2 days to get the dress. There was also no time to inform Bill that she can't go or ask him if they can postpone so she can buy something for herself. Just the thought of admitting to Bill that she has nothing to wear – finally understanding her roommates which had closets full of clothes but always complained that they can't find the right outfit – made her stomach turn.

Another sigh. If she asks Freddie and Georgie if she can go out for two hours, they are going to tease her or ask her where she is going and if she says she needs something to wear to go on a date with their brother, she will listen to howling, whistling and seeing their eyebrows move up and down mockingly until she leaves for her date with Bill.

It was enough that their first kiss was in front of them. They didn't shut up about it for hours after Bill left for work that day. They teased her in front of customers, when they had their break, when they closed the shop and they waited for her when she came from the shower. She knew that they were happy for them and they were just excited that it finally happened but she also decided then and there that she is never sharing anything about her relationship with Bill with them ever again.

After a day of beating her head around it, she gave up and now that the day of their date has arrived, she tried to bury herself in her book so she wouldn't think about how she is going to wear the same shorts and a top to their first date in which Bill saw her last year at the Burrow.

“I don't know,” Theodora mumbled looking at the big box, shaking it a little.

It was quite light for a box that she could barely hold and the curiosity inside her chest was getting bigger. She wasn't expecting a package. Eric will come and visit in 2 weeks so he wouldn't send her anything. If the box was heavier, she would have a mini heart attack, thinking that perhaps Charlie has sent her a baby dragon.

She put the package down on her bed and carefully opened the lid. It dawned on her that it could easily be the twins trying to prank her. They knew that today was her date with Bill – it was the first thing they mentioned this morning at breakfast. But they wouldn't try to sabotage that, would they? No. No, they would not.

Nothing jumped out of the box when she took the lid completely off. There was something wrapped in thin grey paper and there was a note on the top. Theodora took it and turned it around.

Dear Theodora,

I was so overwhelmed by our kiss the other day that I didn't even consider the fact that I didn't tell you what you should wear to our date.

I apologize for that. I have known where to take you for our first date ever since we admitted our feelings to each other through letters.

To make it up to you, I have bought you a little something to wear. I hope you'll like it. I can't wait to see you tonight.

Love, William

If Theodora didn't find Bill perfect before, she definitely did now. She inhaled and exhaled sharply. She couldn't believe it! He solved her dilemma with one box.

Her heart was racing, looking at the wrapping paper as she placed the card on the bed next to the box. Bill bought her something to wear? He bought her something?

Suddenly she felt really uncomfortable. He shouldn't have. She doesn't deserve this. What if he spent a lot of money on this? Spending any kind of money on her was not okay in her book. She didn't require any gifts, she just wanted him.

Her hands were shaking nonetheless and she finally gave in to opening the box. A loud gasp escaped her mouth when she pulled out a long princess-like black dress. Was Bill insane?! This had to be the most expensive fabric she has ever laid her hands on. And were those feathers, flawlessly falling at the back? A lace corset with a princess cut with a lower part that was shorter in the front than in the back.

Theodora was holding the dress high, staring at it with an opened mouth for solid 5 minutes. Where was Bill taking her that she would have to wear anything like this and why would he put so much effort into their first date?

She put the dress down and looked at herself in the mirror. She frowned at her hair. What is she supposed to do with it? It's as straight as if she was ironing it. Perhaps a high ponytail? A braid to the side would be nice but she never learned how to do that and she never paid attention when her roommates were braiding each other's hair. A ponytail will have to do. She nodded at herself and turned on her heel.

Another wave of panic stroke her as she looked at the dress again, remembering that she has no shoes to match such a beautiful garment. She has boots and flip-flops and a pair of sneakers. Her eyes escaped back to the box – wistfully gazing at it, wishing some shoes would appear there.

She pressed her lips together and peaked inside once more and started rummaging through the wrapping paper.

Theodora wasn't even that surprised when her hand got a hold on something that felt like a shoe. Of course, Bill thought of everything. She couldn't stop a smile from spreading all over her face even though she wanted to. Bill put all this effort into this and what will she do? Just appear there and let Bill do all the work. Pathetic!

She sat down on her bed, now a shoe in each of her hands. She stared at them, half in admiration half in terror. Heels. Bill bought her heels. She swallowed hard, cursing herself to ever make a decision to be comfortable and laughing at the thoughts of ever putting something that made you taller for more than 3 centimeters.

Another mini heart attack. How is she supposed to do this? She couldn't walk in heels! She barely even laid her eyes on a pair. She tilted her head to see the time on the clock she had by the door of her room. 2 more hours until she has to meet Bill.

2 hours to learn how to walk in heels and properly put on a dress with a corset. How hard can it be?

—

“How's it going up here?” A gentle knock on the doorframe and Fred's voice, made Theodora look away from the mirror.

“I-I'm fine.” She bit the inner side of her cheek and smoothened her dress to calm her nerves. “Why?” She asked, turning back to the mirror.

“Well we have heard some heavy footsteps and some thumping here and there and I decided to check up on you. What were you doing?” Fred giggled.

“Oh, nothing. Embarrassing myself, mostly.” Theodora let out a nervous chuckle and showed herself to Fred.

“Theo, wow!” Fred gasped, forgetting how to close his mouth.

He has never seen his best friend in a dress before. She was more likely to wear something of his or his twin than ever put on a dress.

“Where did you get this?” Fred asked after he composed himself.

“I received it in the box this morning.” Theodora's cheeks turned scarlet.

“Bill bought you an outfit for your first date?” His face turned into a smug one immediately.

Theodora nodded and once again turned to the mirror. She put the dress on correctly and she was quite proud of herself for doing so. The heels were surprisingly comfortable but her ankles hurt from her stepping the wrong way, almost breaking them a few times.

“He isn't always like this, right?” Theodora turned to Fred.

“What do you mean?”

“It's just a one-time thing, right? He won't spend money and give me presents?” Theodora explained her question.

“He might.” Fred shrugged. “He fancies you, Theo, let him spoil you.”

“I don't want to be pampered like this.” Theodora frowned. “It's enough if he holds me tight in his arms, smiling softly, listening to me, and showing me with gestures how much I mean to him.”

“I know. You like things simple.” Fred bestowed her with a small smile. “But that won't stop him. Unless you tell him that it's making you uncomfortable.”

“It's not. It's just,” Theodora sighed, “I don't feel worthy of it. I have nothing to give in return. What am I supposed to buy him? A tuxedo?”

“No.” Fred laughed wholeheartedly. “Just show him how much he means to you. I know you never experienced this with any of your ex-boyfriends but Bill is very traditional and a romantic. You might need to get used to this.”

“Okay,” Theodora said slowly. “If it makes him happy and this is something he enjoys doing then I will do it for him.”

“That's the spirit!” Fred exclaimed and wrapped Theodora in a hug.

“Sorry, to interrupt your mo, but Theo, it's time for you to go.” George appeared in the door, pointing at the clock on the wall.

“Bloody hell, I'll be late!” Theodora stood up, trying to balance herself in those heels. She grabbed her black purse – grateful to have at least one item to match – and hurried past George, completely ignoring the dumbfounded expression on his face when he saw what she was wearing.

She hurried down the stairs and out through the back door, hoping she won't be too late. Bill told her to meet him at the only square in Diagon Alley and said that they are going to apparate to Muggle London together from there.

Theodora was surprised at how fast she could run in those heels. She was almost better at running than walking in them. She slowed down as she reached the square, spotting Bill immediately.

Her heart started racing when she saw how dashing he was wearing a black tuxedo and tie and a white buttoned shirt. She must be dreaming – this whole scene and them dressed as they were – it looked like something out of a fairytale.

Bill was turned in the opposite direction, his hands crossed behind his back, rocking on his feet – he seemed nervous. That calmed Theodora down and her heart stopped trying to escape her ribcage.

As she approached him, the sound her heels were making made Bill look in her direction. His eyes widened and all the air in his lungs escaped him as she took his breath away. Theodora bestowed him with a sheepish smile, stopping a few steps away from him.

“So what do you think?” She cleared her throat to make herself appear more confident and twirled on the spot to the best of her abilities.

It was true, the dress did grow on her and she didn't trip over her legs just yet and she wanted to show Bill just how grateful she is for the gift.

“How uncomfortable are you right now?” A giggle escaped his throat, taking a step toward her and offering her his hand.

“It's not as bad as it was 2 hours ago.” Theodora bit her lip.

She felt relieved. Bill knew that this wasn't her cup of tea after all.

“I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable or for you to think that I reckon you don't have a proper attire for where I am taking you tonight,” Bill said with burning cheeks.

“You saved me, actually. I was panicking for far too long about what to wear tonight. I have nothing 'more formal' whatsoever in my closet.”

Theodora loved many things about Bill, but the fact that she could be brutally honest with him and tell him exactly what was on her mind was one of her favorite.

“I promise you can toss the dress the second I get you home safely tonight.” Bill smiled, put his left hand on Theodora's lower back, and pulled her closer to his body.

He first kissed her forehead, then her nose, and then put his other hand on her back and kissed her on the mouth. At first, the kiss was gentle but as they both missed each other so much, it quickly got stronger.

“I have no words for how beautiful you look tonight,” Bill whispered in Theodora's ear, making her knees weaken.

“Thank you.” She breathed.

“I saw the dress yesterday when I was walking home from work and I decided to buy it for you. I wanted to see you in it so badly.” He said, almost apologetically.

“Hopefully, there won't be a lot of dresses like that. I don't want you to spend money on me.” Theodora said truthfully.

“I might, here and there.” Bill winked at her and gestured for them to start walking. “I want to make you see that you deserve the world.”

“Then I'll get all spoiled and demand dresses.” Theodora giggled mockingly.

“See, that's why I want to buy things for you because I know you will never turn into someone like that.” Bill giggled with her.

“So,” Theodora made puppy eyes, “will you finally tell me where we are going tonight all dashing and fancy?” She scanned him from head to toe and winked at him, making Bill's face match the hair in his loose ponytail.

“I'm taking you to the opera.” Bill cleared his throat, trying to hide that he was nervous about how Theodora would react to his date idea.

“To the...” Theodora blinked at him. “...wow.” She didn't know what else to say.

She was never the one to obsess over Muggle things too much but she loved their music, especially classical one. She was pretty sure she never told Bill about that before but she couldn't imagine a better first date.

“I thought you might like it. Last summer you mentioned that you love to listen to music and I wanted to do something not as cliché as a fancy restaurant.” He scratched his cheek.

Bill has been nervous about their date ever since he asked Theodora out. Taking her to the opera seemed like a brilliant idea up until the point he arrived at the square and waited for her there. What if Theodora wouldn't like it? What if she would think he is weird for taking her to the opera?

Bill's face brightened up when he saw the sparks with which Theodora was looking at the opera house. He felt so relieved that she liked the idea and wasn't disappointed about where he was taking her.

“What are we listening to?” Theodora questioned, looking around and reminding herself of how she looked at the Enchanted Ceiling when she first arrived at Hogwarts.

“I think it's called Carmen by...”

“Georges Bizet!” Theodora squeaked but then quickly put her hands over her mouth, realizing how inappropriate her behavior was for such a beautiful building.

“You know it?” Bill let out a silent laugh.

“Know it? It's my favorite.”

Without thinking about it, Theodora jumped into Bill's arms, hugging him as tightly as she could.

Suddenly she didn't care about the people walking past them, she wanted to express how much this meant to her. She never thought she would be lucky enough to go to the opera, let alone to listen to her favorite one.

All of Bill's doubts if this was a good idea were diminished the second the music started playing and the singers appeared on the stage. Theodora was sitting on the edge of her seat the entire time, her mouth slightly opened, her eyes glistened with tears of admiration for their voices and the beauty of it all.

Bill has never been to the opera either and if he was perfectly honest with himself, he wasn't sure how much he would like it, but seeing Theodora enjoying it so much was completely worth it to him.

He was thankful that he could enjoy listening to it without paying attention to what was happening on the stage because he couldn't take his eyes of Theodora. Not only did she look breathtaking but the way she was paying attention to the stage – how happy it made her and how she admired the singers – made him fall in love with her even more and he couldn't wait for her to tell him about all the places she ever had a wish to see and visit because he wants her to have more moments like this.

They decided to walk back home. Bill insisted that he accompanies her to her apartment and despite being worried that Theodora's feet might hurt in those heels, he didn't want to apparate because Theodora couldn't stop talking about what they have just experienced in that opera house and Bill could listen to her for hours, his heart melting by the passion in her eyes.

[liibrii]

Yours, tonight

continuation of Forbidden

timeskip!Akagi x fem!reader

Genre: the legendary and there was only one bed. a true classic. y'all know already how this is gonna end. smut with very little plot. explicit, 18+

Warnings: badly written smut, other than that none. 

wc: 2.6k

a/n: writing this fic made me realise how awkward all synonyms for boobs sound. this is my first smut so ya know. keep that in mind when casting judgement. as always feedback is greatly appreciated!

'Winds of fate are cruel. They blow and turn your life around and always hit where it hurts most.' Whoever said those words must have had about as much luck as you.

“Gather round!! Arata, what did I say about vendin' machines?!“ Akagi calls out.

Of all the teachers it has to be Akagi you got partnered up with for this field trip. He doesn't seem to mind nearly as much as you do. His carefree smile is as wide and bright as always.

His completely normal acting around you stings, mainly because your cheeks heat up every time he's around. Ever since he kissed you all those weeks ago you feel like a teenager with the biggest crush in his presence and to be completely honest; it’s embarrassing. 

Students head for their rooms and after you finish helping them settle down you finally head to yours. The door clicks open when you slide your room card and you shuffle awkwardly through it. When you enter and see who your roommate is you drop the bag.

“Oh,“ is all you manage to utter.

Seeing you makes all colour drain from Akagi's face.

“I, I think I got the wrong room,“ you say after a few very uncomfortable moments of silence.

You didn't. Slight panic starts to take over. No, no, this can't be happening. You doubt you can stand to spend three nights in the same room as him without doing something incredibly foolish.

You hurry down to the reception but no matter how hard you try to convince the lady you need one more room you return empty handed.

“So I guess we're stuck together,“ nervously chuckles Akagi.

You want to punch someone. Preferably whoever messed up the number of teachers coming on this trip. The room is so small it's hard to stay out of each other's personal space. After seeing there is only one bed you're on the verge of grabbing a pillow and sleeping in the hallway.

“I'll sleep on the floor,“ offers Akagi.

“Where exactly?“ you ask with more irritation in your voice than intended. “There's barely enough space for our bags.“

You end up dividing the bed with some sheets and extra pillows. Akagi jokes it's almost like building a pillow fort. If you weren't a sack of irritated nerves you'd laugh and agree.

You take much longer preparing for bed than you need. Despite being exhausted you aren't looking forward to climbing under covers. Being so close to Akagi is nerve wracking. Even with blankets and pillows between you you still smell his shampoo.

“Hey, y/n, whaddaja think, should we give kids more free time tomorrow?”

How can he be so calm? “What's the plan like?”

“Museum in Nara.“

“Maybe... I mean, majority of them won't find it very exciting anyway. How much longer are we talking?“

Akagi shrugs. “An hour.“

You think it over. “Sounds good,“ you agree. “Let them run wild in the park with the deer. At least we won't have to worry they'd run in the street.“

“They could get attacked by the deer though,“ chuckles Akagi.

“But it won't be our fault.“

He looks over at you. “I thought you were supposed to be the responsible one here.“ You roll your eyes. “Well Arata will like it. Did ya know he wants to be a zookeeper?“

You readjust the pillow to make yourself comfortable. “No, no I didn't.“

Akagi tells you about the career plans students have told him about. A warmth spreads through you, thinking how nice it is to hear they trust Akagi with their dreams.

“-He’d known he wants to be a university professor since he was 7! Can ya believe? When I was his age I wanted to join circus. What?“ he looks over at you when you fail to hold back a giggle.

“Nothing.“ The picture of Akagi in circus is just too funny. And kind of adorable. “What did you want to be? Clown?“

“Knife thrower.“ His face lights up when you laugh again.

“Let me guess, your parents disapproved so you had to choose a different career?“

“Found another love when I started playin' volleyball. Before high school I even wanted to go pro.“

“Why didn't you?“

He shrugs. “Wasn't good enough. What about ya?“

You have to think a little. It has been a long time since you've thought about your childhood dreams.

His eyes trail over your face when you speak. “Mhm, can see ya.“ He pauses. “Kind of.“

You smack him with a pillow. “What's that supposed to mean?!“

With Akagi's laughter echoing in the room you can't stop a smile creeping on your face. You turn away and burry your face in the pillow. “Goodnight Akagi.“

He turns the lights off. “Night.“

The next morning you wake up before alarm rings. Akagi's still deep asleep, tightly hugging a pillow. In the faint morning sun coming through the window he looks so peaceful. And kind of cute. Despite the snoring. You get ready and leave the room before he wakes.

During the day you try your best to keep your distance but your efforts do nothing to stop Akagi from circling and annoying you throughout the day. In the crowd at the museum he sticks close, his hand grazing yours when you pass each other. When the time for a break comes and you head outside he trips you just so he can catch you in his arms. For heaven's sake, he's being more childish than the students you're supposed to be looking after.

For the third time that day you grab his hand before he manages to tickle you. “Stop that.“

“Stop what?“ he innocently asks but the grin on his face is anything but innocent.

You glance around, making sure students have already scattered throughout the park. You step away from Akagi seeing one of your teacher colleagues is still nearby. Luckily her back is turned. “We could get in trouble.“

“Over what?“ The innocent look in his eyes could as well belong to a toddler asking for candy. “Besides, I like trouble,“ he winks before walking away.

By the time you return to your accommodation it's already evening. Just the thought of being in the same room as Akagi makes your heart pound. He leaves the room when you take a shower, saying he'll check up on the students in the mean time, and you're thankful for this little act of mercy.

You're not sure how much of his teasing you can take before you wipe away that mischievous grin of his. With a slap or a kiss, you have yet to decide.  

You make yourself comfortable on the bed. You pay a lot more attention to the schedule for tomorrow than usual. Mostly because it's Akagi's turn to shower and you're trying to keep inappropriate thoughts out of your mind.

At least he has the decency to come out wearing a shirt. He dries his hair with a towel and stretches his neck. “These pillows are just so weird, dontcha think? It's been hurtin' the entire day.“

You don't look up from the schedule. “Maybe you just don't know how to sleep.“ He playfully smacks you with a towel. “Come here,“ you pat the mattress beside you.

Akagi sits down. When your fingers touch his neck he freezes for a mere second before relaxing. You  press the sore muscles of his shoulders, running your fingers to the back of his neck.

“You have so many knots,“ you notice.

He chuckles. “First field trip. It's more stressful than I expected.“

You rub circles down his back and focus on the particularly stubborn knot just below his left shoulder. The muscles under the thin fabric of his shirt are pliant beneath your fingers.

He hums contently and leans closer into your touch before freezing and sitting up straight as if he just remembered there's a line he's not allowed to cross. His smell is intoxicating. You move back to massaging his neck. Tips of his hair is still wet from the shower.

“Better?“ Something is telling you you're on thin ice.

Akagi turns to face you. Brilliant smile on his face makes your heart skip a beat. “Much better. Thanks!“

Only now you become aware of just how close he's sitting. You can feel the warmth radiating form his body. Ah, fuck should've listened to that small voice telling you this was a bad idea.

You kiss him.

When you pull away he's beaming. Before you can speak he pulls you into another kiss, his hands slowly move up and down your back. “Knew ya wouldn't be able to resist for long,“ he smirks.

You’ve crossed the line already. So what damage would it be taking one more step? You climb in his lap and run your fingers through his damp hair. His lips feel perfect against yours. You can’t seem to get enough. One more, you tell yourself, just one more. When he pulls away you drag your teeth along his jaw, just testing the waters. He carefully lowers you on the bed and moves to plant sloppy kisses on your neck. His hands roam down your sides and slip under your shirt, making you shiver.

Akagi gently nips at the skin under your ear. “Stop, no marks.“

He plants a soft kiss on the reddening patch. “Sorry,“ he murmurs.

“We could get in trouble.“

In response he grinds against you. “Told ya I like trouble.“

He slides his tongue past your lips. His touch makes your head spin and a knee pressing to your core isn't helping. It’s embarrassing how eagerly you grind against him.

“Listen,“ he pants, “I know we shouldn't...“ You put your hand on his flushed cheek then brush your lips against his again. “I want ya,“ he mumbles against your lips, “I want ya so bad. Even if it's just tonight.“

Your stomach flips. “Just tonight,“ you breathe.

When you kiss him deeper and drag your tongue against his he trembles. You fiddle with the hem of his shirt before pulling it over his head. Without a warning he pins you underneath him, grinding his already noticeable bulge against your throbbing core. The moan he draws from you is almost shameful. Not that you care since you're far too preoccupied with helping him get you out of your clothes.

The way his eyes darken at the sight of your naked body makes you flush even harder and you bashfully try to cover yourself. He grabs your wrists. “Hey. What are ya tryin' to hide for love?“

His hands wander over your arms. He trails kisses down between your breasts and nips at the skin of your abdomen. When you squeal and playfully smack his head away he grins wider and presses a soft kiss over your naval before moving lower.

He takes his time kissing and nipping at the skin of your tights. As good as it feels you wish he'd just fuck you already.

The way his eyes glisten when he drags his fingers between your wet folds sets you on fire. You can barely hold back a whimper which only becomes harder when he parts them and latches on your clit. He's sloppy, his tongue lapping in quick circles, his fingers digging into the flesh of your tights. You buck hips against him wanting more. “Michi.“ His name is a whimpering plea.

Fingers replace his tongue, rubbing soothing circles that only make the knot in your stomach tighter. “I got ya love. Just relax and enjoy.“

He sinks his teeth into your inner tight, making you yelp in surprise, then laps his tongue over it in soothing circles. You know it will leave a mark. His fingers slide from your clit to your entrance, slowly sliding one finger inside. He observes every shift of your body. He returns to giving attention to your swollen bud  and it isn't long before you feel orgasm building. You grab on the sheets. His pumping fingers graze your sweet spot just enough to make you see stars. It's hard holding back moans as the waves of pleasure wash over you. When your orgasm hits you clamp a hand over your mouth, trembling and clenching around his fingers.

He presses soft kisses all over your body while you come down from your high. “Ready?“ he asks once you've caught your breath. You nod.

He climbs off to grab a packet of condoms from his bag.

“Did you bring them with you?“ you half joke.

“Nah. Bought them yesterday. Just in case,“ he winks.

You can't help but laugh. His hair is a mess and the blush on his face makes him even more adorable than usual.

He lets you put the condom on and digs his fingers in your shoulder when you slowly stroke him. You peck his parted lips. He’s panting and you almost can’t believe the lust in his hooded eyes is all for you. He pushes you on your back and lines himself up with your entrance. He holds your hand while he slowly pushes in you, giving you all the time to adjust to his length.

A string of breathy curses fall from his lips. “Fuck y/n yer so hot, fuck, finally-���

The way he fits inside you makes your head spin and the fast, relentless pace he picks up isn't helping either. He leaves messy, wet open mouth kisses down your neck and chest. “Slow down Michi, slow down.“ Slow down, this is the only night we got.

“Shh,“ he presses his hand over your lips, “we can't have them hear ya, right?“ He kisses your forehead and slows so you can catch your breath. His hand slips in yours, pinning it above your head, fingers tightly intertwined with his. His lips brush over your cheek. His skin burns against yours. Each of his slow thrusts pulls a moan from you that gets muffled by his hand.

Akagi stops and sits back on his heels. He's covered with a sheen of sweat, his chest heaving. He runs his hand through the mess you've made of his hair in an attempt to compose himself. His fingers brush over your nipples, down your stomach. Then he hooks his arm under your leg and gently pushes it towards your torso. He moves the hand from your lips to cup your flushed face. “Be good and quiet for me, yeah?” His finger brushes over your lower lip and you nod.

The new position makes him reach even deeper. You clasp shaking hands over your mouth when he hits your sweet spot. He notices your reaction, thrusting again and again in the exact same spot. His fingers find their way back to your clit, rubbing frantic circles and it isn't long before the pool of heat in your abdomen bursts. Akagi's fingers dig into your hips, holding you steady as he thrusts faster, helping you through your high.

His lips meet yours again, hungry and almost desperate. In the darkness of the night they muffle his whimpers as he comes closer and closer to the edge, you feel him shudder and inhale sharply every time you clench around him. He hides his face in the crook of your neck, picking up a much faster pace.

Your nails dig in his back, he's reaching so deep and it feels like heaven and you don't want him to stop. A thrust more and he comes, biting your shoulder to hide his loud moan.

For a moment there's only the sound of your panting. Akagi lifts himself on shaking arms to kiss you. Softly. On your lips and your cheek. He caresses your jaw, peppering kisses all over your face.

“One more?“ you murmur.

He kisses your nose. “I was hopin' you'd ask.“

Just tonight, you think to yourself, just tonight he's yours.

[be11atrixthestrange]

The Loft Chapter 4

After a bad break-up, Hermione Granger moves into a messy and dysfunctional loft with four single men. What starts as a temporary home until she gets back on her feet becomes so much more, as she learns there's a lot of life - and love - that happens at rock-bottom.

Inspired by the TV Series ‘New Girl’

--------------------------------

Also on A03 | FFN

More Chapters

--------------------------------

Chapter 4

[Ron]

Ron would best describe the loft as a mess, but a clean one. After hours of scrubbing, the windows are clear and smudge-free, and the concrete floor shimmers with its long-forgotten natural color. What makes him feel most at home, however, is not the fresh pine scent of the couch cushions, but the fact that they're strewn about the floor like plush stepping stones. The boys have arranged them around the trash can in the middle of the room, which is empty save for a dried-up bottle of Febreeze.

Ron's desperate to know Hermione's opinion on the new decor. Despite lifting an eyebrow at the bad doodles of United States presidents and the cardboard cutout of a bald eagle plastered to the wall, she doesn't say anything. She must know better than to think he'll offer an explanation.

After cleaning and decorating the loft, Neville, Seamus, and Harry dispersed into their rooms to make themselves presentable, leaving Ron and Hermione alone in the kitchen to finish up the last of the dishes. He hands her a plate to dry, and she takes it with a smile.

"Thank you for helping, Hermione."

"Of course! But I'm not sure why we're cleaning so much if it's just going to get trashed."

Trashed might be an exaggeration, but she's right in the sense that the new cleanliness of the loft isn't going to last very long. Tonight they're throwing a party, Hermione's first as a loft resident, and she's in for a treat. The boys have been purposely vague regarding loft parties, as any accurate descriptions might turn her off attending. Ron would hate to have her make other plans tonight, whether those be with the girls, or worse, a date.

"Hey, we're not animals. But if it's going to get trashed, it's nice to know it's new-trashed, not old-trashed," he says, earning an eye-roll from Hermione.

"So I'm guessing that this party is America-themed?"

"No. Why would you guess that?"

"No reason," she says, eyeing the miniature blow-up Uncle Sam doll that the boys have been tossing around like a basketball.

"The decorations are just for the drinking game we're going to play," he says, motioning to the multiple cases of PBR lining the wall.

"Right, how do you play?"

"It's not really a game you can explain. You just have to experience it. Nice try, though."

"Then I look forward to experiencing it." She finishes drying the last dish and stacks it away neatly in the cupboard. "What else do we need to set up? Everyone's coming at eight, right?

Ron checks his watch. "Shit, you're right. People should be here soon. I'm going to get ready. Can you start on the beer castle?"

"The beer castle?"

"Yeah. Just stack beer cans in a castle shape around the trash can in the living room."

Ron doesn't wait for Hermione's reaction before he slips back into his room. He rummages around his closet in search of something to wear, something that makes him look both put-together and laid back, ready to party. He lands on a pair of khaki shorts and a pastel blue t-shirt that looks quite nice with his eyes.

He's pretty sure Hermione hasn't seen him in it. Not that it matters, anyway.

He pulls off his shirt and catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Surprisingly, he looks pretty damn good. He's a bit skinny but firm and fit. It comes as a pleasant surprise because he's been slacking on his workouts ever since Hermione moved in and he lost his home gym. It's been difficult to exercise in his tiny bedroom, so he doesn't. He hasn't wanted to work out in the living room for fear of Hermione seeing him, but maybe he should give that a try…

With a shrug, Ron pulls off his pants and stands back up. He can't resist the urge to take another look at himself in the mirror. As much as he wishes he was a bit more muscular, there are pros to being lanky. By comparison, his scrawny self really does accentuate his already well-endowed state.

He checks himself out from a few more angles before deciding that physically, he doesn't have much to complain about.

Before he has the chance to put on his pants, the door to his bedroom swings open. Ron startles when it crashes against the wall and Hermione barges in uninvited.

"Hey Ron, I have a question about the beer can castle—"

"Hermione!" Ron, completely naked, scrambles for something to cover himself with but doesn't have time before she's standing right in front of him. "You have to knock!"

She's staring at the two cans in her hands until she pauses and looks up, but her gaze never makes it to his face. Instead, it lands directly on his penis, and she seems to stare at it for an eternity. Thanks to his utter panic, Ron can't move.

It almost feels like time has stopped, and he's frozen there like the statue of David while Hermione ogles him. She appears to be frozen too, eyes wide, mouth agape, staring.

If his dick could blush, it would match the color of his ears, which are bleeding scarlet.

For a split second, he wonders if it's truly as bad as it seems. Maybe Hermione likes what she sees. A tiny seed of hope takes root.

But that hope shatters when she opens her mouth to speak and lets out the worst sound he's ever heard. It's somewhere between a scream and a giggle, and he wouldn't wish such a reaction on his worst enemy.

Without further ado, a red-faced Hermione mutters a quick and useless 'sorry' and rushes out the door and slams it behind her.

Ron stands there for a few seconds, dumbfounded, before the reality of what just happened crashes down.

Hermione just laughed at his dick.

Well, fuck.

Now that he knows how she really feels, he'll never be able to look her in the eye again.

Ron stays in his room until there's a knock on the loft's door, and he has to show his face in order to let in his guests. He's opted for a hoodie over his shirt so he can hide behind the hood whenever Hermione looks at him, because when she does, his neck prickles with heatwaves, and he feels like he's naked again.

It doesn't make sense — Ron's never reacted so strongly to having a woman see him naked, and he's had a decent amount of experience in that arena. He's no Seamus, of course, but he's not a stranger to the occasional hookup.

It's just because she laughed—no other reason.

He opens the door to find his sister Ginny, her roommate Demelza, and two of their mutual friends—Dean and Luna.

"Welcome," says Ron, opening the door.

"Hey, Ron!" says Ginny. "Hermione!"

Ginny crashes into Hermione for a hug, then introduces her to everyone else. "This is Hermione, Ron's new roommate."

"Nice to meet you all!"

Hermione falls into easy conversation with Ron's friends before they get a chance to greet him, but they don't seem bothered by it. He watches her through narrowed eyes and doesn't even realize he's glaring at her until she looks at him and scowls.

"What?"

"Nothing." He turns back toward his friends, hoping they didn't notice their interaction. "Make yourselves at home. Drinks in the fridge, food on the counter, and you know where the beer is," he says, pointing at the beer castle.

Harry turns the music up just as their guests crack open their beers, and everyone starts to relax. Except for Ron, of course. Even though he's hyper-aware of Hermione, he still manages to bump into her and make more frequent eye contact than he'd like.

For some reason, they seem to gravitate toward the kitchen to replenish food and drinks at the same time, and they barely manage a conversation when they run into each other.

"Oh, sorry," she says, trying to slide past him, only for him to walk directly into her in an attempt to get out of her way.

"Erm—"

"I'll go left; you go right."

"Yeah, okay."

Are they always this awkward around each other?

Every time he tries to act normal, all he can hear is her weird little high-pitched scream-laugh, and he just wants to disappear into his hoodie. On occasion, Ron can sense Hermione watching him, but she looks away whenever he tries to catch her gaze. Not that he wants to make awkward eye contact with her, he just wants her to leave him alone.

He continues to keep himself at a safe distance to avoid talking to her, making sure he's always involved in a conversation with someone else. Over the course of the party, he becomes progressively more resentful of how much mental space it requires to avoid her.

Then, like a hawk, she swoops in and catches him alone while he's in the kitchen grabbing another beer.

"Ron!"

"Jesus," he says, nearly crashing into her. "You scared me."

"Why are you being so weird?"

"I'm not."

"Is it because I saw you naked?"

"No."

"It's not a big deal, Ron."

Of course, she has the nerve to act like he's the one who's being childish.

"Oh yeah, Hermione?" he says. "Then why did you laugh? Too immature?"

Hermione opens her mouth to answer, but in the moment before she does, he turns away from her and shouts to the crowd, "Who's ready for True American?"

The loft whoops their approval and begins to gather in the living room.

"Right now?" whispers Hermione behind him. "We're still talking."

But he ignores her.

"The game is True American," shouts Ron at a volume much louder than necessary for the size of the room. "Say 'aye' if you've played before."

There's a chorus of 'ayes' and a room-wide scrambling toward the furniture. When everyone hops onto a cushion, a table, or a chair, Ron notices Hermione looking around frantically, her expression disheartened.

"I'm the only one who's never played?" she asks.

"It's okay, Hermione," says Harry. "All you need to know is that it's about fifty percent drinking, fifty percent life-size Candy Land."

"I'd argue that it's seventy-five percent drinking, twenty percent Candy Land, and the floor is lava," says Ginny. "Which is why we're standing on the furniture. Hermione, you're melting."

"Oh no," she says, hopping up onto the coffee table between the beer castle and Demelza, who extends a hand to help her.

"Honestly, guys, it's ninety-percent drinking and has a very loose Candy Land-like structure to it," says Neville. "There's also a truth or dare component."

"I just need to know how to play—"

"You're smart; you'll catch on," says Ron. His tone comes off a little more terse than he'd intended, so he quickly continues, "I'll start. JFK!"

"FDR!"

Everyone but Hermione shuffles to a new location, avoiding the lava floor, and Hermione is left standing in her same spot between the beer castle and now, Luna.

"What just happened?" she asks, looking confused.

"Hermione, since you're the last to find a new spot, you have to pick someone, and they'll ask you a truth or dare question," explains Ginny. "Just answer and drink."

"Okay, then," she says. "Um, Neville. Truth."

"How do you like loft life?" asks Neville brightly, eliciting a groan from the crowd.

"Neville, you can do better—" starts Seamus.

"It's her first game!" he says. "Let's ease her in. So, Hermione?"

"Well, it's great so far."

"Just so you know, not every question will be that tame," says Ginny from her precarious perch on the armchair.

"Go figure," says Hermione before chugging back a gulp of her PBR.

As soon as she swallows her drink, Neville shouts out, "The only thing we have to fear is…"

"Fear itself!"

When the crowd joins in, Hermione looks around the room, dumbfounded.

"Hermione, you didn't complete the quote," says Harry.

"I didn't know I was supposed to!"

"Well, now you do! Drink, and then pick someone."

"I feel like I'm at a disadvantage since you didn't explain the game," she says, challenging Harry.

"We've all been there," Harry says, shrugging, "It's a rite of passage."

"Fine," Hermione takes a long swig and points at Ginny. "Ginny, truth."

"Sweet!" says Ginny, beaming mischievously. "Hermione, are you attracted to anyone in the loft?"

Ron's ears tingle at Ginny's question, and he tunes in for Hermione's answer.

"Nope," she says, taking a hasty drink.

In his curiosity, Ron has made prolonged eye contact with Hermione for the first time since the penis-incident, but when she catches his gaze, he quickly looks away. Ron's stomach clenches. Not that he wants Hermione to be attracted to him, but after she saw him naked, it's quite the low blow. Trying to look casual, he pulls back a swig of beer.

"Really?" presses Seamus. "None of us?"

"Ginny's turn!" says Hermione, ignoring Seamus' question.

"Alright, here we go," says Ginny, her eyes narrowed in concentration. "Abe Lincoln! George Washington!"

"Cherry Tree!" shouts Ron.

"Correct! Pick a person and an amendment!"

"Hermione, second."

Everyone looks at Hermione, and Ginny tosses her an unopened can of beer.

"I don't understand," she says. "You still haven't given me any information."

"You have to shotgun a beer! And then pick someone to ask truth or dare," says Dean.

"Wait, what? That doesn't make any sense."

"Give it time, Hermione," encourages Neville. "I didn't understand it at first either."

Hermione groans and sets down her half-full PBR, and reaches into her pocket for her key. She stabs the bottom of her can, then tips it into her mouth, chugging it down while the loft's onlookers cheer in the background.

Eyebrows raised, Ron watches her shotgun her beer, trying to ignore the smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He never thought he'd see that, and he isn't complaining.

"Yeah, there's no going back now," says Hermione once she finishes. "Luna, truth."

"Yay!" says Luna. "Did you and Ron get into a fight? You've been avoiding each other all night."

Ron's face grows hot. He bores his gaze toward Luna, who is staring intently at Hermione and doesn't seem to notice Ron's glare.

"Is that really your question?" she asks.

"Yep!"

"Luna, you've never seen us interact," says Ron. "How would you know that?"

Luna shrugs. "I can just tell."

"You know what," says Harry as he looks between Ron and Hermione. "You two have been acting weird tonight."

"Is it that obvious?" asks Hermione.

Ron feels Hermione's eyes on him, and his palms break out in a sweat. Once again, his refusal to make direct eye contact probably serves as a sufficient answer to Hermione's question.

"Well, fine then," she says, turning back toward Luna. "Earlier, I walked in on him changing. But it wasn't a big deal."

"Ron, is this true?" asks Harry.

Everyone turns to look at Ron, who groans. "Yes, but as she said, it wasn't a big deal."

His roommates might as well be shining an interrogation light on him by the way they all continue to stare.

"If it wasn't a big deal, why are you all fidgety?" asks Seamus.

"I'm not," says Ron, but his defensive tone suggests otherwise.

"Yeah, women have seen you naked before, Ron," says Luna. "Why is it different with Hermione?"

"Whose turn is it?" says Ron, much louder than necessary. Anything to divert the attention from Luna's oddly specific question.

"Oh, it's my turn," says Luna. "One, two, three, go!"

Luna holds up the number five to her forehead, and everyone else follows suit with their own number. Ron looks frantically around the room and breathes a sigh of relief when he matches numbers with Harry.

It appears that Hermione, who was the last to catch on, as usual, is the only one without a partner.

"Not again!" she says. "But at least that one made sense. Seamus, truth."

"Are you sure you want to do that?" asks Ginny.

But it's too late. Seamus, who is already slurring his words, looks at Hermione and asks, "So, Hermione, what does Ron's dick look like?"

"Dude, what the fuck?" shouts Ron.

"Seriously, Seamus," adds Harry. "That's not even an interesting question."

"Sure, it is! I'm interested!"

"Old news," pipes in Neville. "We've all seen Ron's dick."

Embarrassed, Ron glances toward Hermione. She looks lost for words. "You don't have to answer, Hermione."

"No, we haven't!" says Seamus.

"Really?" says Dean as he side-eyes Seamus. "I've seen it, and I don't even live here."

Ron looks toward the loft door. Maybe he can make a run for it.

"Am I the only roommate who hasn't seen your dick?" asks Seamus, now appearing uninterested in Hermione's answer. When everyone in the room turns to look at Ron, he feels like he's naked in a crowd again.

Ron shrugs. "I guess so," he says, casually taking a sip of his beer.

"When? Where?"

"I don't know, dude. Locker rooms, penis fights, I'm sure you'll see it someday," says Ron. "Can we stop talking about my dick, now?"

"Yes, let's move on," says Hermione with an apologetic glance in Ron's direction. "Just ask me a different question."

"Fine," says Seamus, his words melding together, "Hermione, what did you think of Ron's dick?"

"Seriously, Seamus?"

"I guess we can't," mutters Ron.

Hermione rolls her eyes. "Whatever. He has a very nice penis."

"I wouldn't know," says Seamus bitterly. Then, just as quickly, "JFK!"

"FDR!"

Everyone scrambles for a new spot, and this time Ron's the only one left out in the shuffle.

"Fuck," he says, looking around for someone who won't ask him a dick-related question. "Uh, Demelza, truth."

Demelza smiles. "How did Hermione react to seeing your dick?"

"I picked you because I thought you wouldn't ask about my dick, Demelza."

"Sorry," shrugs Demelza.

"It wasn't a big deal," says Hermione.

Before he can stop himself, Ron scoffs, and once again, everyone snaps their heads in his direction.

"Sounds like it was a big deal."

"It wasn't!" says Hermione. "I mean—"

"Hermione, don't," says Ron, but Hermione continues without a missed beat.

"I laughed at first, but only because I was nervous."

"You LAUGHED?" asked Demelza. "No wonder you two are being so weird."

"It was an accident!"

"Let's move on," growls Ron. "Demelza, your turn." He shoots a glare in Hermione's direction.

"Niagara!" says Demelza.

Everyone brings their drink to their mouth and begins chugging. As soon as each person finishes, they toss their empty cans to the PBR castle in the middle of the room. Hermione, having caught on a moment too late, is the last one to toss it.

Hermione groans. "Harry, dare."

Harry grins. "Well, to make Ron feel better, I dare you to repeat after me. I love Ron's cock."

Ron's ears grow warm again, but they're also buzzing from the beer, which takes precedence over his embarrassment. Also, it'll be interesting to hear Hermione follow through with this dare.

Hermione narrows her eyes at him. "Fine. I love Ron's penis."

Ron sends her a curious glance. She said it so… formally, like she was taking an oath in court.

There's a tense silence while everyone stares at Hermione. "Try again," says Harry.

"Why?"

"I love Ron's cock," he repeats. "Say it."

"I did."

"You said penis. Not cock."

"Same thing!" she protests.

"Hermione, why can't you say cock?" repeats Harry.

"Penis is the technical term," she says, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

Ron chuckles at the argument playing out before him.

"What about dick?" suggests Demelza.

Hermione stares at Demelza, her cheeks flooding with color. "Why?"

"Schlong? Wang? Knob?" offers Seamus.

"Seriously, what's wrong with 'penis'?"

"Nothing, it's just weird that you won't say cock," says Harry. "I think that should require two drinks for refusing a dare."

Ron looks around the room; everyone nods in agreement.

"Fine," says Hermione before taking a second sip.

As soon as she finishes her sip, Harry shouts, "Give me liberty or—"

"Give me death!"

As assumed, Hermione is the only one who doesn't catch on.

"Ugh," she says. "Dean, dare."

"I dare you to make it even!" slurs Dean.

"What does that mean?"

"He showed you his; now you show him yours."

"Executive order," says Ginny. "Vetoed."

"Why?" asks Ron. "I don't think it's a bad idea. Plus, it would make me feel better." He pouts at Hermione with wide, puppy-dog eyes and grins when her cheeks flood with color. He's well aware that she never responded to Dean.

"Too far, that's why," says Ginny.

"Well," says Ron. "You guys are no fun."

There's a moment of silence when no one seems to remember where they are in the game or whose turn it is. Seamus breaks the silence with a question directed at Ron.

"Can I please just see it?"

Ron groans and rolls his eyes. "No. And I'm going to bed."

"Why?" whines Seamus.

"I didn't think my dick would be such a huge topic of conversation, yet here we are."

"More of a slightly above average topic if you ask me," says Harry.

"See what I mean?" says Ron, as he hops off his cushion and turns his back to the crowd. "Goodnight."

x

After chugging a tall glass of water, Ron retreats to his room for the night, ready to escape his roommates' drunken shenanigans. He changes into sweats, settles underneath the covers, and is about to turn off the lights when there's a knock at his door.

"Erm, come in."

The door creaks open, and Hermione pokes her head into his room. "Hi," she says.

"Hi," he responds, raising his eyebrows at his unexpected guest. "Thank you for knocking."

"So—"

"I'm not naked. Sorry to disappoint you." He cuts her off, aiming for an icy tone, but unfortunately, it comes off whiny.

Maybe he has been acting a bit petty and childish.

She stares at him, expressionless, for a few tense moments and then bursts out into laughter. He can't help but follow suit. Her laughter is quite contagious when he's fully clothed.

"For the record, I'm not laughing at the thought of you naked," she assures him as if reading his mind.

"Sure, Hermione. Sure," he says. His cheeks are heating up, but he's glad it's not from embarrassment this time.

"I meant it, you know," she says, as soon as her laughter dies down.

"You meant what?"

"That you have a very nice—" she clears her throat, "cock."

Ron beams — at both the compliment and her word choice. "You said cock!"

She stands a little taller. "I've been practicing."

"Say it again!" he urges.

"Please don't make me."

"Pretty please—"

"Fine," she says, taking a step, so she's fully in the room. The door closes behind her. "Cock. Dick. Schlong. Willy."

"Okay, now you're embarrassing yourself."

"Give me more words," she says, now grinning. "I want to prove that I can do it."

"Okay, why don't you try Peter Pecker. Big Red. The Orange Cannon."

Hermione's face flashes red, and she slaps a hand to her mouth.

"Too much for you?" asks Ron.

"Did you nickname your penis?"

"No!" Ron protests, although his flushing cheeks likely give him away. "Those are from former lovers."

"Oh, well, I'm not going to say them then."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not your former lover," she argues.

He catches a slight emphasis on' former' and forces himself to keep his expression neutral. Maybe some good will come from the penis incident. Either that, or he's imagining it.

"While technically true, I still want to hear you say them."

"Too bad."

Thankful that the awkwardness seems to be dissipating, Ron grins at her. "Then you'll have to make it up to me another way."

As soon he speaks, he winces, hearing the implication of his words a moment too late. Did he actually just say that?

Hermione doesn't waste any time with her response. "How? By making it even?"

Ron cannot interpret her expression — it almost looks like she's trying to keep it neutral. In his effort to decipher it, he hesitates for too long, and by leaving her comment hanging, he might as well have agreed.

"That was actually what I came in here to do," she says, biting her lip.

"Really?"

"Yes."

At this point, it feels like his whole face is on fire, and Hermione's smirk isn't helping at all. He can't bring himself to look away from her eyes nor say anything, as the air feels too thick with tension. She could be bluffing, but he has no desire to call her on it if she is.

Is she joking?

His question answers itself when Hermione averts her eyes to the ground and hooks her thumbs at the hem of her shirt.

Holy shit. She's not.

Hermione keeps her eyes on the ground, and Ron can't help but grin at how her cheeks turn bashfully pink. He wishes he could help it because he's definitely beaming like an idiot. With a deep, nervous breath, she pulls her shirt up and over her bra—

She's not wearing a bra.

Fuck.

Ron lets out a breath that he didn't even know he was holding. "Well damn, Hermione."

Still holding up her shirt, she meets his gaze. "Yes, Ron?"

"You have amazing… knockers."

"Ron!" she says, shoving her shirt back down. He immediately misses the view, but he doesn't regret his word choice. "They're called breasts."

"Boobies. Bing Bongs. Spongey love mountains."

"And I'm the immature one?"

"Jesus, woman, just take the compliment! I'm trying to tell you that I love your tatas." He speaks before he can filter himself, hoping she doesn't read too much into his phrasing. There's nothing wrong with showing appreciation, after all.

She lets a small smile at his admission but quickly narrows her eyes and crosses her arms over her now fully-clothed chest. "If I have to say cock, you have to say breasts."

"Sorry, Hermione," says Ron, his tone veering dangerously close to flirtation. Then, feeling a bit bolder, he continues, "what I meant to say is you have wonderful breasts."

Her face tinges red, and she smiles smugly. "Thank you, Ron."

"You're very welcome. Your turn."

"What?"

He motions toward his pants. "I want to hear you say it again."

She groans. "Fine, but this is the last time."

"Sure it is."

She rolls her eyes before continuing. "Ron, you have a lovely cock."

His breath hitches in his throat. Hearing her say that again definitely does something to him, and it's not helped by the sincerity in her tone. She's not lying. As a result, his hair stands on end, heat pools in his stomach, and he's thankful for the positioning of his bed covers.

"Thank you, Hermione," he responds, looking directly into her warm brown eyes. Reflecting her slight smile, they appear softer and darker than usual, as if they're deep in thought.

Ron and Hermione keep eye contact for a few elongated seconds before the awkwardness of the interaction kicks in, and they avert their eyes, looking anywhere but each other. What an odd conversation to have with a roommate.

"I should go to bed," says Hermione, pointing at the door.

"Erm, yeah. Me too."

"So I guess I'll see you in the morning?"

"Good night," he says, but Hermione's already out the door. He sighs.

It shuts behind her, and Ron turns off the light and leans back in his bed. When he closes his eyes, the image of Hermione's perfect breasts is still fresh in his mind, and he makes no effort to let it morph into something else because who knows if he'll ever get to see them again.

Why would he? She's just his roommate.

Yeah. I'm definitely attracted to my roommate.

A smile creeps onto his face. It feels good to admit it, even if it's only to himself.

[i-need-entertainment]

Don't Close Your Eyes

Character: Numai x reader/ [it's a secret;)]x reader

Based off of the song "Don't Close Your Eyes" by Keith Whitley

Warnings: Unrequited love, no cheating but he ain’t the one on her mind, hurt for Numai, Toxic but not abusive, unresolved ANGST...I don’t really know what possessed me to do this but I can’t say i’m too remorseful.

(No complaints, I guarantee this hurt me more than it could ever hurt you 🥲)

Numai blinked his eyes open, rolling onto his back as he placed his hands over his eyes, slowly breathing in and out. Opening one eye, he softly called your name as he patted the bed beside him, only to find it empty. He wasn’t too surprised, you never did stay in bed too long in the morning. Usually he’d find you half-dead at the kitchen table or zonked out on the couch, but never beside him, cuddled up in bed.

Sighing he sat up, sitting on the edge of the bed as he stretched his back, hands coming to rest on his knees as he just...sat there. You and Numai had been living together for about 6 months now, you’ve been dating for 3 years. But to be honest, it didn’t feel like 3 years. It felt more like 3 months.

When the two of you had first met it was your junior year of college, his senior year. You had just gotten out of a long-term relationship with someone, the break up had been a messy one too. You never really told him what happened, just the basics. The rest he pieced together through friends or stories he heard about your high school days. All he really had to go off of was a name you let slip a few times, and that he played volleyball. Atsuhiro? Tsu-something-or-the-other? He couldn’t remember much, but...it was obvious, you never really got over him.

You never told him that, but it’s not like you needed to. He was given enough clues by you alone to piece it together. For one, you weren’t ever really there. He could tell you were distracted, often staring into space completely entranced in what he guessed was some perfect fantasy world, where your ex never left for the pros and you had followed after him.

When you kissed him, it was lacking passion and romance, it was lacking love. When you fell asleep next to him at night, it was like 2 strangers lying next to each other in the dark. No late night conversations, no holding one another while you fall asleep. To someone who didn't know better, they'd probably say you were roommates. But to be fair, those who did know better wouldn't give much more credit to your relationship. 

And it's not as if you didn't like your current boyfriend, after all he was an amazing boyfriend! But every time you almost forget about him, every time you can feel yourself moving on you freeze...because Numai isn't him, and try as you might you can't fall in love with another man because you never fell out of love with him. And no matter how much both of you wish or pretend, Numai isn't him.

Sighing Numai stood up, stretching out his back and groaning as It popped. Slipping on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt he walked out of your "shared" bedroom and into the kitchen/living area. And sure enough, there you sat, still in your pajamas, half-dead as the counter scrolling through your phone. "Morning Babe." You sat up, eyes filled with an expression that danced on fear as you turned your phone off and flipped it over onto the counter. Taking a sip of your coffee you smiled, "Mornin' Kazuma." 

That was another clue you gave him that you never got over your ex. 

You only ever called him by his name, it was almost a year before you even tried using his given name, and now it was only Kazuma. Never any nicknames, never any pet names or terms of endearment. Only Kazuma. And at first, he just figured you didn't like pet names, which is fine...but when he asked, your friends told him you didn't dislike them, and used them with your ex a lot.

And then there was the 5th, and final clue you never got over your ex. 

Numai continued into the kitchen grabbing a coffee cup from the cabinet and pouring himself a cup before going to sit on the couch. But before he did, he walked behind you, noticing you had turned your phone back on and opened Instagram. Now, Numai wasn't one to snoop, to eavesdrop or break your privacy in any way.

But he didn't have Instagram, having deleted it during college, so he didn't know what you posted, if anything at all. But watching over your shoulder, he could see you scrolling through your page, no pictures of the two of you or him. It was mostly pictures of you/your friends, normal things he supposed. Until it got to just 3 years ago, and that's when he saw him. 

The 5th and final clue you never got over your ex.

There he was, in his fair-haired 6 ft something or the other glory, signature smirk as his hand was wrapped around your waist. You paused at that picture, spending more time looking at it then you did the others. Numai turned on his heels and walked to the couch, turning on the TV to try and drown out the incoming wave of hurt and insecurities he knew was coming.

It was funny, the first time Numai had seen your ex. Eyes picking out the similarities between the two men. There was the dyed blond hair, the light brown eyes, the love and passion for Volleyball. 

The Rebound...that's what he was, and he knew that. He was someone to keep you company, someone to warm your bed at night and comfort you when you needed it. He was your boyfriend, and he only wished he could call you his.

But your heart never really belonged to him, he wasn't sure he even had a peice. How could he, when you had already given it wholeheartedly to him, [REDACTED].

And he supposed he should leave. Cut his losses and heal from the 3 year heartbreak he's been experiencing. But he couldn't. Or rather, he didn't. Cause there was still that hope, still that longing that someday, someday you'd open your eyes and realize you had someone who loved you right there, someone who gave you their all for nothing in return.

But as the days go by, knowing that if your ex so much as said 'hello' you'd be gone in an instant. Numai can't help but think it'd be better if he just...left. And with a text to one of his old high school buddies and a trip to the closet go get his suitcase, that's exactly what he does. And sure enough, not even 2 months later there you are, smiling and bright eyed as you stand next to him, your one and only, Atsumu Miya. The one person's side who you never really left, as long as you just closed your eyes. 

"Don't close your eyes, let it be me

Don't pretend it's him, in some fantasy

Darling just once, let yesterday go

And you'll find more love than you'll ever know

Just hold me tight, when you love me tonight

And don't close your eyes"

[hqprotectionsquad]

Notice Me (Kenma x Reader)

Title: Notice Me Pairing: Kenma x F!Reader Summary: If you move in with Kenma, you save money and you get to go to your dream school in Tokyo. Just one thing: you start developing a crush on your roommate who you barely know. Word Count: 2441 A/N: This is the original fic I had planned before I lost it for a few bits. I wrote a whole HC set for this, which is very similar because I wrote down everything I could remember. This would be an extension of a sort in that case.

A few months ago, it was never like this. You were just about ready to attend a junior college because your top choice university waitlisted you for your program. You were okay with it, considering the price was significantly less than what you expected to pay at university. What are two years working on transferrable credits anyway? In the grand scheme of things, you were making the right choice.

And then you got off of the waitlist. You jumped for joy and your parents baked you a cake for your achievements. Everything was dandy, up until you remembered the tuition. It wasn’t like you’d be in crippling debt if you attended, just debt that isn’t as crippling.

Luckily, your neighbor, Kenma is also moving to Tokyo, to study something like business or management or something like that? You don’t do much of exploring his personality until you hear a plan that your mom proposes to you.

“Mom, are you serious?” You can’t believe what your ears are hearing.

“Of course! We don’t have much money to send you, let alone boarding. So while you’re in Tokyo, you can stay with Kenma! Kenma will have a large enough apartment, according to his parents when I spoke to them about this.”

“You already spoke to them about it?!”

“Yes! And you both move in two weeks.”

It’s weird, packing up your entire life is weird. Waves of nostalgia crash every time you notice an old toy you used to play with or old photos you forgot existed. Soon enough, you’ve got everything you need in boxes that will meet you in Tokyo.

Tokyo. It still feels like a fever dream. Something that is, but you aren’t sure how it happened. A few months ago, you were days away from enrolling in junior college, and now, you’re going to Tokyo.

Today, your family packs the car with all of your clothing and things that can be easily carried. Later on, you’re in the apartment, settling your items. Soon enough, your family’s back in the emptier car on their way home. Everything goes too quickly.

The process of getting to know Kenma goes too slowly. Sure, you’ve been his neighbor for your entire life, but you’ve never really spoken to him, even though you’ve gone to the same high school and boarded the train together in the mornings.

Now, if you have classes in the morning, you take the train with him to the university. Still, after a few weeks of moving in together, you haven’t spoken much to him. It’s like ebb and flow, except he’s flowing at his own pace.

On the train to classes one day, you ask, “Kenma, do you want to have dinner together? I can pick up something after my last class.”

“No, it’s okay, I’m streaming something tonight.” So that’s all the noise he makes at two in the morning, not that you could assume anything based on the yelling.

“Oh. I didn’t know you streamed. Um, what do you stream?” You don’t want this conversation to stop. From all the years you’ve known him, you were actually jealous of Kuroo for being able to know Kenma so well. This could be your chance to see what’s going on behind that pretty face of his.

“Mostly games.” He digs into his messenger bag and you assume that the conversation is over. This is it, he probably just wants to be roommates without being friends. “You forgot this earlier, by the way. On the counter.” He puts a book into your hand.

“Thank you.” And thus begins your habit of forgetting things and him retrieving them for you. For the most part, it’s not on purpose; you’re just a forgetful human being. However, one time, you checked to see if he’d actually notice if you left something. It was a bit of a gamble, but you just wanted to see. Sure enough, Kenma came right before your class began to hand off a notebook.

These drop-offs are simple, yet his attention to detail is what draws you to him. His perspective means everything when you’re asking him for his opinion on assignments or life events.

You wish there was something more, though. He’s so reserved. It’s not like he’s actively trying to hide something, but maybe, he just wants to be by himself.

That’s such a lonely life.

He has his friend Kuroo, as far as you know, who is a year older than you two. You’re at the extremes of your mind, weighing the pros and cons between your two halves. If you try to befriend Kuroo, that could be your way to knowing Kenma, but Kenma might also be confused by your friendship with his friend. If you don’t try to befriend Kuroo, then you’re essentially stuck in the same place without a stimulant to move forward.

So you do what any college student would do; decide your fate on a coin flip. Heads is get to know Kuroo, and tails is to stay stagnant and find a way through. You flick the coin off of your thumb and it sails into the air until it finds solace in your hand. You slap the coin onto your opposite hand, and what do you know, it lands on—

“Heads.”

Huh. You’re going to have quite a time. You even begin laughing to yourself because you have no idea how to start.

“You know, Kuroo’s a chemistry tutor.” Your friend informs you after she sees your brain unfolding when you go out for a literature study session. She seemed very concerned, but you reassure her that you simply had a crush on your roommate and you aren’t sure how to go about it.

“I’m taking introductory chemistry, and I’m not near failing, Mika.”

“Exactly, it could just be supplemental and you use the studying so you can get a better grade.”

“You know what, I think you’re right. I’m going to do that.” A smile graces your lips and it’s something in between a smirk and a genuine grin, but you’ll take it.

The next time you visit the library, you stop by the corkboard by the entrance. You trace your fingers to find the chemistry tutoring sign-ups and you find Kuroo’s name at the top of a page in bold font. Lines are filled left and right, and you find an opening for two days from now. Now that you’re looking at it, there aren’t too many girls who have signed up for him, just mostly boys. You suppose you’ll find out why soon.

When you approach a table on the day you’ll be tutored, your mouth gapes when you see the face of this guy. How are there more boys who sign up for him than girls? If you weren’t faithful to your mission, you’d probably be reconsidering everything.

“Hey, I’m (Y/N), you’re Kuroo, right? You’re tutoring me in intro chemistry,” you say as you take a seat and unload your notebook and textbook from your backpack. You place your items onto the table, including your trusty highlighters and pencil case.

“Hey.” He offers you a smile. “Glad you could make it.” He does one look over you before asking, “Haven’t we met before? This isn’t an attempt to pick you up, but I mean if you wanted me to, I wouldn’t object.”

You roll your eyes and grin. This guy has no shame from the get-go. “Maybe in passing. I’m Kenma’s roommate.”

“Right, right, that’s where I’ve seen you.” Kuroo nods. “So did you want to get into the parts you have trouble with or do you want to do a brief overview first?”

“Brief overview would be good.” You start to get into all of the general basics of chemistry, like the formulas and diagrams you’ll need for tests. The way Kuroo explains all of this makes so much sense, even the things you thought you knew before.

“Alright! Water break.” It’s been about an hour, but judging by Kuroo’s expression, you might be here a little longer. Even though the world has passed by around you, it feels like you just arrived and introduced yourself.

“Have you considered being a teacher? You’re really good at explaining.”

After chugging down half of his bottle, he runs some fingers through his hair and you’re surprised he can even get them out based on the messy appearance. “I’ve thought about it, but I kind of want to go into forensics or research. Something like that. But something tells me you’re not here because you want to do better on your tests.”

“Red-handed,” you say with your hands up. “What makes you think that though?”

“You’ve kind of got everything down, but I wouldn’t expect anything else from a pretty and smart girl like you.”

Your mouth hangs open just the slightest bit and you have to force yourself to press your lips into a smile. You try to look anywhere else except meet his eyes. “I,” you stop to breathe. “I’m flattered, but um, I guess I did come here with a different intention than just studying.”

“And that would be?” Kuroo clasps his hands together and leans forward. By the looks of it, he’s even tilting his head so his ear faces towards you.

Your breath can’t make a silver barrier between Kuroo and your flushed cheeks. “I, um, kind of have developed a crush on Kenma, and since you’re his friend—”

“Damn. I really thought I could get a girl from tutoring, but it looks like she’s only interested in my best friend.” He then does this thing where it looks like he’s smirking and fake crying at the same time and you can’t really tell what he’s trying to accomplish from this. Still, he bites his lip and you’re led to believe he’s actually a little upset that he’s being passed over.

“I’m sorry, Kuroo.”

“Why are you sorry?” He laughs through his question.

“I don’t know.” With your smile on your face, you peer down at your chemistry notes, the ones you’ve just written. “I’m really thankful for all your help with this. I’m sorry if it seems like I’ve taken advantage of you.”

“Believe me, it’s no big deal. You’re one of the first girls I’ve tutored and you’re pretty cool. I still don’t know why I keep getting guys to tutor, don’t know what witch cursed me with that.” Kuroo clicks his tongue before continuing, “But you’re his roommate. Shouldn’t you at least know him up to a certain extent? I just don’t get it when you could just try to seduce him.” He pauses. “Don’t actually do that, it probably won’t work, it’s Kenma.”

“Exactly. He’s been my neighbor for basically all of my life, but I don’t know him enough to try to start something. I can’t tell if he enjoys my company or not.”

“You know what, I know you’re Kenma’s roommate and you barely know him, which is understandable, because it’s Kenma. Come check out the intramural games and you’ll get to meet the team.”

You tilt your head at his statement. “Intramural games? For what?”

“For volleyball. Kenma’s the setter, I’m the captain for our team.” Kuroo nods. “Saturday at 4. I’ll invite you out for ice cream and it’ll be all cool.” He starts packing up his stuff and shoving it into his backpack.

“Alright, I’ll see you then,” you confirm while you mirror his actions. You bid him goodbye and the last thing you hear from him is mumbling that you had to, of course, like his best friend.

Saturday comes and you wish you could say it wasn’t a blur, but with all of the volleyball lingo—still unsure what some of the positions are, but at least you know Kenma’s—and the men just talking amongst themselves, it’s not hard to get stuck in the whirlwind.

“Are you okay, (Y/N)?”

You give your head a little shake before looking to see who was speaking to you. “Yeah, I’m okay. Thanks for asking, Kenma.”

“If you don’t want to be here, I can take us back to the apartment. I’m sure Lev’s loud voice is hurting your ears.” He casts a strained glance to the man leaning back on the counter, slurping his ice cream like it’s a soup. The rest of the lot is in the circle, speaking to teammates, and whoever happened to respond to Kuroo’s invitation. Turns out you weren’t the only one that wanted to share in the company of the team.

With your unfinished ice cream cup still in your hand, you bid goodbye to Kuroo and the other team members. Turns out there really is a whole world outside of your small circle at the university. Without them, you wouldn’t have realized how interesting life could be if you continued to hang out with them all.

You wondered if you kept this up, maybe you’d have a chance with Kenma, and so you did. They were all kind enough to allow you to tag onto their plans, even if you’ve stuck onto them like unwanted glue residue. They never grumbled when you walked into cafes with Kuroo, nor did they whisper underneath their breath when you joined them for movie nights at Tora’s apartment. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say you were becoming very good friends with all of them, including your roommate.

Nowadays, he’ll subtly expect to have dinner together when you are both free and you’ll commute to school with him on the days that your classes start around the same time. All the while, you’re still trying to talk to him. Ask him about the weather, what can he recommend as far as video games go — anything that will get him to move his mouth. He really enjoys talking about the games he plays and it seems like that’s his life. Behind his nonchalant expression, fiery eyes dance.

One day on the train, he sits next to you. Everything takes you back to earlier in the year when you barely knew him. All it took was volleyball and the intervention of a very important person in Kenma’s life. He’s no longer just a roommate. He’s a friend, someone to talk to, someone who listens to you.

He turns his head and looks you up and down, from your eyes to your shoes. His gaze is sure but slow, and you aren’t certain of his intentions.

Finally, he asks, “(Y/N), are you flirting with me?”

Hearing this come from his lips tugs your own into a smile. “You finally noticed?”

navi! | master list | tag list form

[cynergy-laughter]

Meet The Family: Obey Me! One Master to Rule Them All!

Fanfic Series by: @cynergy-laughter

(Featuring: Defined MC) (Fluff, comedy, angst) (PG-rated)

Chapter 1: A Letter From Home (Word Count: 3,463)

*

*

*

*

Summer is finally here. RAD classes were out and Brendon took the time to walk home alone today. He was excited to see what Summer had in mind for him, another beach trip? A hot springs town? The possibilities were endless. You had so much fun fantasizing that you didn’t notice you had someone accompanying your stroll home.

“Happy Summer, Brendon.” Solomon smiled handsomely while Brendon was shaken from his summer fantasy.

“O-Oh! Hey Solomon, happy summer!” He smiles back, “How long were you next to me?”

“About two minutes, but I have something for you. I was informed that there is a service in the Devildom that allows exchange human students to get mail from their world. It’s over at Akuzon. And I was told to give you this, it looked important.” Solomon said, handing him a letter.

“Oh?” Brendon said as he looked at the envelope and his eyes widened as he saw the return address. “T-Thank you Solomon, I have to hurry home, I hope you have an awesome summer!” He said, hurrying off to the House of Lamentation.

“And I hope you have a good summer too…” Solomon said smiling.

Brendon made it around the corner from when he put the letter in his bag, and continued on towards the gates and into the House of Lamentation. He listened closely to see if anyone was home. Good, it sounded quiet. He went on through to his room and closed the door before changing out of his uniform and into his everyday clothes, a shirt, kilt, and his long black double zipper hoodie before taking the letter out, beginning to open it up.

___________

“Dear Brendon,

It’s your mom, how are you? I hope this letter finds you well. I wanted to write to you because I didn’t see you last summer’s annual family vacation, and was worried. I tried calling you, but you didn’t pick up.

But I wanted to let you know that we will be going on our annual vacation this summer, and I wanted to invite you. All your brothers are gonna be there. And we all felt a part of us was missing last year. And Davey said he had a surprise for us all this summer so we’re all excited for this summer.

I really hope you’re doing well abroad, and hope this letter finds you in good health. I hope to hear from you soon. I love you so much. We love you so much.

Your dearest mother,

Lydia.”

___________

Brendon bit his lip and realized he didn’t even get in contact with his family during his time in the Devildom. He put the letter down and began to dial a number on his D.D.D.

“Hello? DeHallows Residence, Lydia speaking.” The sweet voice on the other side spoke.

“Hi Mom, it’s Brendon.”

“Brendon? Brendon! Oh my gosh, I’m so glad you’re okay! I was worried sick.” Lydia sounded so relieved on the phone, it made Brendon tear up.

“I’m sorry for worrying you, I was busy, and didn’t have much in the way of communication… I finally got your letter. How are you?”

“I’m doing so much better now that I know you’re okay… oh, and I’m glad you got my letter, I wanted to see if you were gonna be able to make it this year. We’re going over to Kyoto.”

“I would have to check with my roommates, cause we were gonna do something for summer. But I can definitely look into it. Umm, do you know if Dad was gonna make an appearance?”

“Honestly I don’t know, honey… I know you two don’t see eye to eye… on a lot of things, but I don’t want to think about ‘what if he shows up’, rather, I want to look forward to seeing you. I’m currently packing for our two month trip, and I have most of your brothers here at home, spending the weekend before we head to the airport early on Monday.”

“I see… yeah of course… Hehe, are they just as excited as you?”

“Ohohoho sweetie, excited is an understatement. They are all getting on each other’s nerves here. It’s like none of them moved out. Although Davey is already at our vacation destination, getting it prepped up. He’s been very busy. But he’s been on the grind ever since high school, you know how he is, I just hope he isn’t working himself sick. Maybe this is what all the family needs.”

“Yeah… Well, if I do come, would it be okay to bring my roommates along?”

“Oh of course! The more the merrier! I’m sure Davey wouldn’t mind.”

“Awesome! Thanks mom. Well, I gotta go, I think I’m in charge of dinner tonight…”

“Oh of course, I would give the phone to your brothers, but they had just left before you called. I’ll be sure to pass on the message, I’m so glad you called me, Brendon…”

“I’m sorry I missed them… but tell them I miss them and that I’m okay.”

“You bet honey. Well I’ll let you go, sleep well, and I love you.”

“I love you too, sleep well too. Bye.” Brendon said with a smile and laid down on his bed, sighing.

————

At dinner, everyone was up to their usual energy and antics, Mammon was getting into it with Levi again, Asmo and Satan were having a bit of a discussion amongst themselves, Beelzebub was getting seconds, Belphegor was watching Mammon and Levi going at it. Lucifer was eating peacefully, but noticed Brendon was kind of silent, picking at his food a bit.

“Brendon? Is something on your mind?” Lucifer asked, and Brendon blinked awake from his trance to look at Lucifer.

“Huh? I’m sorry, what did you say?” Brendon shook his head a bit.

“I’m saying you’ve barely touched your food. Is something the matter?” Lucifer put his fork down gently and met Brendon’s eyes.

Brendon blinked as he looked into Lucifer’s eyes, he then noticed that it was silent, he turned his head to see everyone was looking at him.

“Brendon, are you not feeling well?” Asmo asked, frowning.

“You aren’t in trouble are you?” Mammon asked, “If anyone hurt you, I’ll kick their butt!”

“You have been pretty quiet ever since you came back home.” Satan concerned, “But I’d be happy to join Mammon in any efforts if you were threatened.”

“N-No… it’s nothing like that… it’s… I got a letter from my mom… and she was worried about me cause I didn’t show up or contact her about attending our family’s annual summer vacation…” Brendon shook his head and waved his hands in assurance.

“You got a letter from your Mom? Down in the Devildom?” Beel asked, tilting his head.

“Oooohhh, Lord Diavolo was talking about that at the student council meeting today… right?” Asmo said, resting his chin on his hand.

“Y-Yes! Akuzon is apparently making a service that will allow postage from the human world to come to the Devildom. In response to the exchange program of course.” Levi said excitedly.

“Oh, so I take it that it’s a success then, we’ll I’m glad to hear the positive progress.” Lucifer said as he continued eating.

“Yeah… and I called my mom and she asked if I would be attending the family vacation this year… I said that I would ask you all, cause I didn’t know if we had any plans.”

Everyone suddenly stopped and looked at Brendon.

“You’re thinking about leaving for vacation?” Belphegor asked, tilting his head.

“Well, I wanted to know if I could bring you all along… meet my family, you know?” Brendon smiles, sounding hopeful.

“Brendon… I don’t know if we’ll be able to. We wouldn’t really be the kind of people to bring along to a family event…” Lucifer said, “And even then, we would have to present the vacation to Lord Diavolo…”

“Whaaaat? Come on, Lucifer, we are able to go on trips to London, why can’t we just go on a trip like this?” Mammon whined and frowned.

“Because Mammon, we have duties and responsibilities as members of the student council. And plus, that London trip almost ended in disaster because you couldn’t keep out of trouble, even with me and Satan watching over you.” Lucifer raised an eyebrow at Mammon.

“When’s the vacation start, Brendon?” Asmo leaned in, tilting his head.

“My mom and brothers go to the airport on Monday, heading for Kyoto, so I guess it’ll start on Tuesday.” Brendon said, looking at everyone.

“We can see about talking with Lord Diavolo about it, but we can’t make any promises.” Lucifer said. “It might just be one or two of us if we get the okay…”

Brendon smiles and nodded. “I would appreciate that… I really want you guys to meet my mom and my brothers.”

“Oh yeah, you did mention to me that you have siblings. How many in total?” Beel asked, as he continued eating.

“Including me, seven.” Brendon chuckles. “You’ll like them.”

“Seven? Where do you stand in age?” Satan raised an eyebrow.

“I think I’m the second youngest child… yeah. Second youngest.” Brendon nodded as he went back to eating.

Everyone else began looking at each other, seven brothers?

———

Brendon had been listening to music in his room after dinner, when there was a knock on the door.

“Brendon? It’s Mammon. Can I come in?” He said from outside the room.

“It’s unlocked.” Brendon yawned slightly as he sat up a bit. “What’s up?”

“Well… it’s about your trip… I don’t wanna be stuck here for the summer, so… I want you to bring me with you, if it turns out that we can’t all go.” Mammon said, crossing his arms.

“Huh? I mean, I don’t really know who I would pick… like everyone of you would have pros and cons about going…” Brendon turned to Mammon on his bed.

“I mean, I’m your first, so I should be your first pick. There should be no debate about it.” Mammon sat next to you. “And what do you mean pros and cons? I am a pro all the way around!”

“Mammon, you have no sense of direction… you have sticky fingers, and some of my brothers are very possessive of their stuff, you tend to say before you think, and the biggest con is that you are literally a con artist.” Brendon listed, weighing in.

“... H-Hey, why do you have to put me down like that? Dang, and I thought you were on my side.” Mammon got up and began walking out.

“... Mammon, come.” Brendon sighed.

“G-Gah! H-Hey! You said you wouldn’t do that again! S-Stahp! Oof!” Mammon began to walk involuntarily back over to Brendon before plopping down onto the bed.

“Mammon, if you would have let me finish… I can start on your favorite part… now you know the rules about my bed.” Brendon said, sighing as he laid down on the bed and watched Mammon kick his shoes off before crawling further onto the bed.

Mammon saw Brendon gesture to his chest and Mammon reluctantly rested his head on his chest, slight blush on his face.

“Fine… but you better make it the best qualities about me.” Mammon said, pouting.

“Hehehe, I swear, you are just as narcissistic as Asmo.” Brendon chuckles as he pet Mammon.

“Grrr… S-Shut up… don’t compare me to him, idiot…” Mammon growled.

“Hehe, rich coming from the guy who keeps on trying to get a picture of Lucifer sleeping. Didn’t he douse you in steak sauce and tossed you into the catacombs where Cerberus stood guard, the last time you tried it? After the flash on your camera went off?”

Mammon shivered a bit. “Why’d you have to remind me about the Mammon Steak incident? I smelled like steak sauce, and fear for three weeks, Beel kept barking like a dog to make me jump… Why don’t you have sympathy for me?”

“Sorry, but you know I don’t like being called an idiot.” Brendon cuddled Mammon and rubbed his belly gently. “But anyway, onto your pros… You are very thoughtful and determined when you put your mind to it. You’re pretty much the most easygoing of all seven, you’re energetic and like to have fun, you’re hilarious, and you’re a good hugger.”

Mammon blushed and smiled like an idiot, “Hey, did I say you could stop singing my praises?” He asked, smirking.

“Oh? Well, I guess I could rustle up a few more…” Brendon smirked back, “Let’s see… you don’t hesitate to come to my need… you’re handsome, charming… and… you’re fun to tease.” Brendon then began tickling Mammon’s sides and abs.

“A-Ah! Hehey! Noho tickling! No-HOhohoho! Get out of my shirt!” Mammon began to regret falling into Brendon’s trap, he got him right where he wanted him.

“Hehe, very very fun to tease~.” Brendon bit his lip and went up to his ribs and his armpit while his other arm had wrapped around his waist. Mammon was now flailing.

“Stahahahap! I’m sohohorreeeee!” Mammon squealed as he said just what needed to be said to get Brendon to stop.

“And you’re very apologetic~.” Brendon winked.

“Hehehe… phew… Brendon… you’re the worst…” Mammon panted, and looked up at him.

“Hehe, if I was, you wouldn’t still call yourself my first.” Brendon leaned down and kissed Mammon.

“... I mean if you keep that up, I guess I’ll promote you to… not so bad…” Mammon blushed.

Brendon snuggled Mammon closer. “But, in all seriousness, I’d have to give it some serious thought, and there is the possibility that none of you can go… and if that’s the case… I won’t be going… I’d miss you all too much…”

Mammon blinked and looked up at Brendon and sighed. “Well, I don’t want to keep you from your family either… so I hope at least one of us can go…”

Brendon rubbed Mammon’s shoulders, hoping he didn’t have to see his dad on the trip, especially without the demon brothers there with him. “I hope so too…”

Mammon hummed contentedly as he practically melted in Brendon’s touch. But tension came back in knots when the door burst open.

“I knew it! Mammon’s trying to butter Brendon up so he’d get picked to go to Kyoto!” Levi growled, followed in by Asmo, Beel, and Belphie.

“Just when you thought you pulled the wool over our eyes!” Asmo crossed his arms and smirked.

“Now get off Brendon’s chest, that’s my spot.” Belphie glared at Mammon cozying up to Brendon.

Beel was just munching on a rotisserie chicken. “I kicked down the door.”

“Umm… speaking of the door, it wasn’t locked…” Brendon frowned and sighed.

“Get out, all of you! I got here first fair and square!” Mammon growled. “This is my human! I am his first!”

“All of you, stop! I don’t know who I’m gonna pick, or if I’m even gonna go.” Brendon sighed. “And all of you coming at me at once with PowerPoint presentations is not helping!”

“What? You’re thinking of not going? This is a lifetime opportunity, of course you should go!” Asmo gasped.

“WhaaaaAAAATT?! You get to go to Kyoto and you don’t even wanna go?! The waste!” Levi’s jaw practically dropped at the declaration. “It isn’t fair!”

“Levi, trust me, if you knew the stakes of going to this Kyoto vacation alone, you wouldn’t want to go either…” Brendon looked down as he let go of Mammon and rolled out from under Mammon, to lay on his side.

“Brendon… What do you mean by that?” Belphie asked.

Beel blinked. “Is there someone that you don’t want to be there on your vacation? It isn’t one of your brothers is it?”

Brendon looked down and sighed. “I’m sorry, I’m just exhausted… I need to get some sleep… I have a lot of thinking to do… could you all leave, please?”

Everyone frowned and looked dejected, but Asmo thought about it. “Brendon’s right, he needs to think, and we need to get up early for the meeting with Lord Diavolo tomorrow. Let’s go.” Asmo said, as he kissed Brendon’s cheek. “Sorry for bothering you, honey. Beel, get Mammon.”

Mammon’s eyes widened. “Hey! Don’t kiss him! Gah! Bee put me down!” Mammon flailed as Beel slung him over his shoulder.

“Umm… good night… sorry Mammon, maybe tomorrow night…?” Brendon watched them kidnap Mammon but then blinked in realization. “You all owe me a new door! And Mammon you forgot your…” They had already gone. “... boots…”

In the House’s Library, Beel tosses Mammon on the couch, much to Mammon, and a reading Satan’s protests.

“Gah! Can you give me a warning before you choose to throw Mammon onto the couch where I’m reading?! And get your feet out of my face Mammon, they reek!” Satan gritted his teeth as he pushed his legs away, making Mammon turn onto his side on the couch.

“They do not, you hypocrite! H-Hey! Wait a minute, I forgot my shoes in Brendon’s room! Beel, you couldn’t even wait for me to put my shoes on?!” Mammon glared at Beel.

Beel was eating a chocolate newt before looking at Mammon, “Asmo waved this when he told me to get you. I waste no time.”

“Stinky feet and bribes aside… Asmo, what’s this about?” Satan asked, putting his book down.

“Well, I call this meeting of the younger brothers to draw attention to something that concerned me… Did anyone else notice how Brendon looked a bit somber earlier?” Asmo, looked at everyone, crossing his arms.

“Well, he didn’t seem to be happy about going to Kyoto… which I don’t know why, that sounds amazing.” Levi clenched his fists!

“I noticed, Brendon mentioned something about stakes about going to the family vacation alone…” Belphegor frowned, “That set up a red flag for me… I mean he seemed excited for us to meet his family, so I don’t know why he hesitated about it when there’s a possibility that he’ll go alone…”

“And it seems Beel is the only one to whom Brendon mentioned any part of his family to. Is that right?” Satan looked up at Beel, who was now eating a bag of chips.

“Mm-hmm. And it wasn’t until earlier tonight that he mentioned exactly how many brothers he has.” Beel nodded, “And from what Mammon gathered, he talks about his brothers favorably…”

“Hmm… Well regardless of what Brendon is worried about, the point is: he’s worried about going alone. And I want to advocate for all of our participation in going to Kyoto with Brendon.” Asmo began pacing around in front of his other siblings.

“Well, that’s not exactly our decision to make, we would have to convince Lord Diavolo, and even then, we don’t even know if we have to convince him of anything.” Mammon sighed, leaning back.

“Maybe we won’t have to convince him… what if Brendon convinces him?” Belphegor asked, “He’s practically the student council intern at this point.”

“I mean, that’s true… Brendon is pretty good at convincing Lucifer and Lord Diavolo at times.” Satan nods in thought. “But you don’t think it would be pushing it? I mean, how long is the stay?”

“Hmm… good question… maybe we should ask Brendon for more details. And while we’re at it, we can plead our cases as to why we should be chosen to be Brendon’s Vacation Boyfriend~.” Asmo winks, sticking his tongue out. “I don’t think it will be any contest, I’m the perfect candi-date for Brendon~.”

“Woah woah woah, hold on now, that’s only if Brendon convinces Lord Diavolo that at least one will go with him to Kyoto. And no you will not, Asmo, it’s gonna be me!” Mammon growled and stood up.

“Hehehe, not even in either of your dreams, Brendon is my best friend, and it is my dream to go to Kyoto! I am getting that spot as B.V.B!” Levi stood up and gritted his teeth.

“I suppose I can broaden my horizons in Kyoto, I wonder if there is a library at the estate they’ll be staying at.” Satan smirked.

“You all are at an unfair advantage, but I won’t lose.” Belphegor clenched his fist.

“... Kyotonian Delicacies… I’ve always wanted to eat their finest dishes…” Beel was drooling as the other brothers were locked in a glaring rivalry.

“Wait… we shouldn’t forget about Lucifer, whether he try to not count him, he’s also a candidate, even though Lord Diavolo would think it ideal to keep him by his side in the Devildom.” Asmo realized.

“I guess until we find out if one, two, or all of us can go, it’s every demon for himself.” Mammon said, and with that, all the demon brothers parted ways back to their rooms.