Hi guys I hope you enjoy my little writings unfortunately this is a side blog so I can’t comment back but my inbox is always open for anything thank you all so much for the likes reblogs and comment they all mean so much!!!
It was impossible to wipe off the grin on your face stepping into the arena, even the strut of your walk matched the bass of the music playing as one of the fighters walked out.
“I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you so happy,” Layla spoke from behind her phone pointed at you.
“Wait till you see me during the main event.” Throwing a cheeky wink, you turned back to follow the man leading you both to your seats.
You and Layla were both influencers, though you’d use the term more loosely than Layla would. She was the famous one you were just the fan favorite in the background, keeping her out of trouble. But it did get you ringside at the biggest UFC event of the year. So who really cares about titles.
Settling into your seats, you took the time to glance around at all the people. It wasn’t even the main card yet, and it felt like they couldn’t fit a single extra person.
“Here, take this.” A shot of vodka slid in front of your face so close it made you jump back. Seeing you were about to say no, Layla pouts. “Pleaseeee just this once!”
“Only one!” Layla cheered!
You were already feeling anxious from all the people, so maybe one shot would do you good. Just to ease the nerves. And just like that, one turned into two, which turned into too many to count.
Which is how you found yourself incredibly hungover and trying to dull the sounds of doors slamming down the hall by burrowing your head into the ridiculous amount of pillows on the bed.
Your fingers brushing over something cold made you flinch, but that wasn’t what forced your eyes open.
“I’m not one of those who sleep with the belt that was your idea.” A low, masculine voice sounded from across the room, making you shoot up.
“Oh my god.” Sitting in the chair mirroring the bed sat none other than half of last nights main event Khamzat Chimaev. Who gave you a crooked smile.
“Uh what?” You mentally cursed yourself for asking such a stupid question. But it was all your foggy brain could come up with. Khamzat stood with a low laugh, taking slow steps towards you, reminding you of his namesake, the wolf. Although it didn’t appear he was trying to look like a predator stalking prey, which unfortunately would be you in this scenario, it looked casual.
Landing next to your knees on the comforter, he lastly leaned back on his arms, raising one eyebrow. Watching you from the corner of his eye.
“You don’t remember.” He stated with a sigh, stretching across the bed, reaching for his phone from the other nightstand when you shook your head no, flashing a sliver of tanned skin where his shirt lifted with the movement.
Still on his back, he clicked the screen till your voice started playing. Previous shyness be dammed you lunged, crawling under his arm that held the phone up. Your cheek pressed against his jaw, the TikTok playing distracted you from his scratchy facial hair against your neck.
You watched yourself take shot after shot on the screen, then he scrolls to another video this time of him getting patted down by the cutman, eyes locked on something off camera, till it pans to you staring right back, clutching the railing between you both. Even through the screen you could feel the tension you couldn’t imagine in the actual moment, Well couldn’t remember.
He scrolled again
The camera is shaky but there’s no mistaking Khamzat in the cage opponent furiously tapping against the arm across his throat. The next second Khamzat is jumping over the cage and running to the vip section aka your section. You watch yourself get flung over his shoulder with very little effort and carried off when it all comes back.
You let out a umpf as your stomach slams against his shoulder the crowd is freaking out as well as the announcers. You’re pretty sure you can hear DC screaming. You scrambled for purchase against his sweaty back, finally settling on the waistband of his shorts.
“Hey! Let me go!” You yelled trying to swing around to see his face but it just made the room spin. His arm tightened around your thighs like a vice keeping you from flinging yourself to the ground.
“I will.”
“Can you do it nowwww?” Your words turned choppy when he started running through the tunnel. Everyone he ran past turned to watch the unusual scene while you tried not to throw up from the moments.
After what felt like forever and to many turns to keep up with, he finally entered his locker room setting you back on your feet. his hands didn’t stray from your ribs to hold you steady when you swayed.
“Hi” Khamzat bent at the knee to meet your eyes. You were so much shorter than him you can tell he was trying to make you feel slightly more comfortable but with left over blood staining his torso countered the effect.
“You can’t just say hi after kidnapping me!” The rest of your rant gets muffled by his hand covering your mouth
Instinctively your hands flew to his wrist not that you could actually stop him if he really wanted to hold you there. His eyes flashed with realization. Hand slowly dropping still clasped in your grip. Sometimes he forgot not everyone was used to harsh touches.
“Sorry if I scared you.” He smiled trying to appear smaller again but it still looked awkward.
Your jaw dropped wordlessly, for the life of you, you couldn’t figure out what was going on the vodka and blood from hanging upside down swimming in your head wasn’t helping.
“You remember now?” Khamzat asked looking down at you best he could in the current position, your nose brushed his as you looked up at him.
You felt his laugh more than you heard it as you pushed off his chest yelping at the proximity, forgetting you were still under his arm which sent you crashing back against him just as fast.
Feeling merciful he lifted his arm enough for you to scramble clear across the room
Space you needed space. Ideally you should leave immediately. The man grabbed you out of the crowd and brought you to his hotel room! This is crazy, and so unlike you.
His gaze tracked you like a laser never left you while you paced around the room. God you probably looked like a wreck feeling slightly self conscious with all his attention you ran a hand through your hair hopefully not making it worse.
“Shit.” You curse a nail getting caught on a knot, pulling it free you saw it wasn’t your nail that got caught but possibly the biggest diamond ring you’ve ever seen.
Khamzat watched you pause staring at the ring he dropped a chunk of his fresh check on just a few hours ago simply because your eyes lit up when you saw it.
“You don’t remember it all huh?” At his words you held up your hand pointing at it with the other staring accusatorially at him.
“Explain this!” Looks like you’re not scared of him anymore. He kind of likes the fire suddenly lit in your eyes.
He sat up at your yell wordlessly handing over his phone, Laylas account already pulled up. With a sigh you started to scroll. Her feeding you more shots at an after party scroll a close up of a hand around your waist passing you a water with the other you now recognize as Khamzats.
The next video was Layla alone in the bathroom mirror breaking down the night so far ending it by saying you and Khamzat should get married because you are both “so cute” then it cuts to a still photo of you in his arms in front of a courthouse.
Turning the phone off with a sigh you passed it back to him. Already in fix it mode.
“Okay it’s no big deal you and I can go fix this I’ll find Layla we’ll fly back home and we can act like this is some publicity stunt that stays in Vegas.” You started to pace again mentally making a todo list.
“I have a podcast today you can come with me we can go to your friend after” Now standing to full height he steps closer using a single hand to stop you in your tracks. Apparently ignoring everything you just said.
“No! the only place we are going together is a lawyer to fix this then I’m finding my friend!” You pointed your finger between the two of you. Khamzat rolled his eyes leveling you with his gaze once again.
“She didn’t seem like a good friend feeding you alcohol and pushing you into marrying me.” He tilted his head up when you went to interrupt.
“All night she only talk to followers, she’s your best friend she got you drunk and left you with as you said man who kidnapped you, while I just meet you and I took care of you. Who’s with you now.” His arms spread to prove a point. Seeing you not have a rebuttal at least for now he walks to the dresser grabbing something before sliding it into your hand. Car keys.
“I have to go, you can find your friend if you want to but be back here by tonight.” He slid a keycard out of his pocket and into your hand, quickly leaning down to leave a kiss on your forehead seeming too gentle for the same guy that choked out another man last night and left the door clicking shut behind him. You don’t know what felt heavier, his presence or the silence.
Step one on the surprise marriage todo list: find Layla
You had no idea what the car looked like that belonged to the keys. But the best plan you had was walk around the lot pressing the alarm button repeatedly until you found it.
Feeling the heat made you rethink your plan the second you left the lobby, uber couldn’t be that expensive just before clicking order there was movement to your left.
Valet was parking a McLaren among the expensive cars along the entrance there were Ferraris and Lamborghini lined up with the occasional Mercedes which happened to match your key. If they were going to park anyones car up front it would be the world champions car.
The matte black G Waggon at the end flicked its lights on as you pressed unlock of course he’d drive a tank of a car. With a roll of your eyes you climbed in. You knew the drive to your old hotel would be fast but the entire drive your mind swam with clips of last night before you left the room you found your thankfully charged phone and watched every video tagged #khamzatsnewwife you could find and still none of it made sense. But Layla will help if you can even get her to talk with how hungover she’d be.
Well this wasn’t what you were expecting. You froze watching the scene in front of you. There was a crowd around a lounge chair by the hotel pool and of course Layla was in the center looking much better than you felt. But that wasn’t the only surprising part.
“She’d do anything for me we are sooo close she’s going to introduce me to Alex Pereira then it’s goodbye to you pool boys.” Layla sang playfully waving off the men surrounding her not that they left.
“Ugh you should’ve seen the wedding it was beautiful a very private affair only a select few got to go.” She continued to brag. Your wedding? The drunk wedding with a man dressed as Elvis was ‘beautiful’ Clearing your throat all the eyes shifted to you.
“Y/n..! Omg come meet my new friends, boys you can look but don’t touch, her new champion husband wouldn’t like it.” Layla screeched. You were frozen in your spot she’s never talked about you like this. Suddenly what Khamzat said made since.
You took small steps towards her squinting in the sun. “We need to talk.” Layla tilted her head Gucci sunglasses sliding down her nose as she shot glances at her ‘friends’ as if she was busy.
“We can talk here we are all just getting to know each other.” She sang giving the big guy with tattoos and ufc shirt a flirty wave. Your jaw clinched this is not what you needed right now. One of the bolder guys in the group reached for your hand to pull you into their circle. “Yeah beautiful let’s get to know each other.”
Scoffing at the audacity you hold up your left hand staring him down. “My husband will rip your throat out with his teeth if you touch me again.” You didn’t think he would, but the man jumping back two feet clutching his hands to his chest didn’t know that.
Hopefully stealing khamzats predatory aura you turned to the rest of the posse extending the threat they didn’t stay long after that. Turning back to a pouting Layla.
“Looks like you’re free now.” She followed with a huff as you walked back to your room starting in on her immediately.
“What happened last night?!”
“Uh you had a fun night honestly I don’t know why you’re so cranky.” Laylas eyes rolled as she casually put her things away like you were talking about the weather.
Your mouth gaped and shut so many times Layla actually moved to lounge on the bed on TikTok. Now feeling anger break past confusion and frustration you snatched her phone throwing it on the other side of the bed. Earning a yell.
“What happened last night! And why aren’t you hungover?” That was something that set off red flags for the first time in your friendship Layla was a lightweight three shots and she’s be passed out the next day unable to even look at her phone which is saying something definitely not at the pool.
Now deciding to pay attention she sat up slowing down her words like you couldn’t understand. “You had fun last night I know that’s new for you but you did, even got a hot rich husband that was somehow obsessed after seeing you for two seconds that’s the only reason I didn’t try and steal him, I knew you wouldn’t appreciate it.”
“And I was drinking club soda someone had to stay sober to hold the camera steady and you were way to gone for that.” shrugging her shoulders as if it’s no big deal she waved it off. Suddenly you felt like a bucket of ice water washed over you as you connected the dots.
“You staged this didn’t you.”
“Maybe not Khamzat originally because from what I do remember he didn’t even look at you but the rest of it me getting drunk and marrying him.” You knew she manipulated her ex’s and strangers to help out her imagine but she’s never acted like you were a pawn for views before.
“I just thought maybe it was time for you to get out from behind my shadow.” You toned out the rest of whatever she said you’d heard enough. You moved across the room grabbing whatever was yours and shoved it in your suitcase.
You could hear her trying to explain her side of it obviously noticing it wasn’t going the way she wanted she eventually stormed out leaving you to pack in peace which thankfully didn’t take long.
You kept your head down during the trip to the lobby. Your life has changed so much in the last twelve hours you could barely get a grip. You lost your best friend of ten years somehow got married to a world champion fighter of all things and you’re stranded in Vegas.
Well stranded might be the wrong word if anyone asked the figure leaning against the borrowed G wagon. Dressed in all black Khamzat was clearly waiting for you.
“It’s too early in the relationship to be stalking me.” You joked despite your mood. His shoulders jump with his chuckle. Reaching to grab your bags when you were close enough.
“I like to move fast.” He winked moving to load your stuff in the trunk opening the passenger side door for you as he passed. Settling against the leather seat you didn’t have to wait long for him to join you.
“How did you know where I was?” At your question he smiled taking a minute deciding if he wanted to mess with you and say he had a tracker on you but his curiosity for the real reason won out.
“I heard I had to rip someones throat out.” You groaned head smacking back against the seat. Can nothing stay private anymore. You looked over to apologize and found the man.. was he preening he looked like he just won an award which to him he did. Just this morning you were scared of him now you’re using him to scare off men.
“I didn’t actually think you would I just-“
“I would.” Was his interruption, not knowing how to follow that the car was left in silence. Seeing that might’ve been too soon to admit he tried again.
“How’d it go with Kayla? I thought you’d be halfway to the airport by now.” Snorting at his mistake you didn’t bother correcting him.
“Is that why you showed up?”
“No.” Yes. But he’d never admit that he cut the podcast short because he couldn’t stop imagining you sneaking off right under his nose.
“She said marrying you would get me out from behind her shadow.” You played with your fingers in your lap voice small, while his turned white around the steering wheel.
“You’ll never be in anyones shadow not even mine.” His tone was so sure you almost believed him, you wanted to at least. Turning your head to watch him drive you realized in this moment was the most relaxed you’ve been in a while.
“You’re not what I expected you to be.”
Sparing you a glance again seeing you watching him.
“Is that good?” He was almost nervous of the answer everyone wanted the ruthless wolf he was in the cage no one cared about who he was outside of it. Out of the corner of his eye he saw you nod and that was enough for him.
Seven months later you walked into a different arena with a team you’ve come to consider family trailing behind you and Khamzat your hands locked together waking past the ufc camera crew.
Watching your husband warm up you reflect on the past few months, Just like you said in the car life with Khamzat wasn’t at all what you expected he didn’t go anywhere without you even when he trained he still sent text to check in if he didn’t bring you along on days you were free.
He was always the first to celebrate your accomplishments no matter how small they seemed to you. All of his friends quickly became yours, the loyalty difference between them was a stark difference to Layla.
Even preparing for his second title defense he still stole glances your way. You asked once why he stared so much he replied saying that he just couldn’t believe you were actually there, you learned to love the looks.
Khamzat lifting Baisangur straight off the ground met your eye shooting a wink always sure to show off when you were watching before laying him down and continuing to wrestle.
Surprise wedding be dammed this is exactly where you wanted to be.
I wasn’t originally planning on adding Khamzat to this series but I hope you all likes it let me know if you did and who else I should add 🫶 also would yall be interested in seeing text from this series like my ufc text? I think it could be cute.
Including: Khabib Nurmagomedov, Usman Nurmagomedov, Islam Makhachev, Paul Hughes, Arman Tsarukyan, Khamzat Chimaev, Tom Aspinall, Magomed Ankalaev, Alex Pereira
Okay yall the ufc text pranks or just ufc text requests are open if you have any ideas plus a fighter that just MUST be included add that too(if I like them I’ll add them) preferably fluffy or funny ideas
I will pay you money if you write a headcanon on jealous!arman
Jealous Arman HC
Another Arman Stan!! In honor of his fight today we’re doing it!!
So I don’t think Arman fully knows what jealousy feels like first off I did touch on it in my fic here. But here’s how I see it going
Jealous Arman doesn’t even know he’s jealous if anyone asked what was wrong he’d just say he didn’t like how close someone was to you. protective he would call it.
That same “protectiveness” is what drove him to stride across the room and throw his arm over your shoulder or around your waist and death glare whoever was unfortunate enough to be standing there.
If it was another fighter talking to you he would go about it differently not wanting to start swinging in the hotel lobby..again
He’d ask you to hold his Rolls Royce key and his wallet for him while he signed posters. The contrast was stark between the key and your fresh manicure, also him. Smirking inwardly as the other fighters eyebrows rose at the clear display. “You can’t give her what I do” was rolling off him in waves.
He loves showing off on his socials I mean look at the yachts and food he post well he also loves posting you on said yachts wearing the beautiful dress he bought you and well what he didn’t love were the comments of other men on you.
“It’s disrespectful” he’d say not at all recognizing that green feeling in his chest for what it really was. so how did he fix it? He made sure every picture since had him in it as a reminder.
Picture of your new shoes in the mirror he’s on his knee fastening the strap.
Leaning on the hood of his Lamborghini You’re covered by the largest bouquet of flowers anyone has ever seen in your arms.
Taking a selfie he’s either behind you smiling or his hand is resting in the crook of your neck ridiculous priced watch and large hand clear as day against your skin.
His brother makes fun of every display seeing them for what it is and calling him out. “She’s mine I’m keeping her safe” he reaffirmed
In the crowd at his last fight the seats were a little to close to each other if you’d asked him everyone packed shoulder to shoulder and while Paddy was a doll of a seat neighbor. Arman was seething watching the tv in the locker room pan across the crowd.
“Why is he sitting next to her!” He’d bark pacing the mat. Artur watching in mild amusement.
“Maybe because you got her front row seats” that caught Armans attention shaking his finger at his brother like he cracked a code.
“That’s it I should buy the seats around her I don’t want her to get squashed it’s safer this way.” Typing away at whoever could get it done he managed to buy the tickets around your seat normally reserved for fighters or whoever the ufc invited.
“You need to go sit with her to keep her safe.” Artur rolled his eyes knowing you were fine but Arman was persistent practically pushing him out the door.
“And sit between her and Paddy!”
I love these little asks I hope you all liked it!!
Including: Khabib Nurmagomedov, Usman Nurmagomedov, Islam Makhachev, Paul Hughes, Arman Tsarukyan, Merab Dvalishvili, Jiří Procházka, Khamzat Chimaev, Tom Aspinall, Magomed Ankalaev, Alex Pereira
let me know which was yalls favorite I think mine was Usman
here you go girly you sent the request on the wrong page so I can't reply directly to it @ufc-dollie23
This is the eptomite of if you want it do it yourself, heavily inspired by twisted love I think I hit every trope minors DNI
Ufc/mma masterlist
Request for Paul and others are open!
You were losing your mind, you had been walking up and down south beach looking for your friends that just disappeared when you turned around for a second for the last hour, and now your phone was dead and you were soaked to the bone, not a combo you were happy about.
The short dress your roommate Jess practically forced you in rode up your thighs every step you took, and you're pretty sure your mascara was giving you major raccoon vibes.
You would call your brother but you only remembered his Ireland number not the U.S one plus that brings you back to the dead phone, which you did book an uber on before it clunked out but you don't hold out hope for it.
Right as you were about to kick off your heels and go barefoot the bright lights of a familiar gym came into sight. "Thank god" you mumbled
The lights of Made gym were almost blinding compared to the dark clouds as you swung open the door, it was nearly deserted at this time but you were hoping your brother would still, Paul, oh Pauls here.
Paul was your brothers roommate and also a fellow cage fighter, you’d known each other for years obviously but you wouldn't call it friends. Most of the time anyways.
You saw Tyler, Pauls strength and conditioning coach nod in your direction. Which given your state probably wasn't a welcomed view.
"Y/N?" Paul racked the barbell he was doing curls with that honesty look the same weight as you and met you half way, his eyes questioning as he took you in.
"What are you doing here?" The smell of his sweat hit you the closer it got and you wished it was more repelling.
"My phone died." Was all you gave like it explained enough, you thanked Tyler taking the offered towel to dry your hair with and the puddle you were leaving in your wake as you followed Paul who wordlessly guided you to his stuff with a hand hovering over the small of your back. And sat you down next to his bag.
You sat down on the empty bench, while Paul dug through his bag and pulled out a spare hoodie and sweat pants.
"Here, Bathrooms that way." You didn't move to grab the clothes, just shook your head.
"I don't need all that can I just borrow your phone to call an uber." Flashing the puppy eyes that make Rhys bend to your will, did nothing as Paul now started to glare.
"Rhys would kill me If I let you get in a strangers car looking like that." Jutting his chin in your direction you huffed. It can't be that bad, OH.
"Was it like that the whole time!" You yelped throwing your arms across your chest while simultaneously trying to tug the seam back down your legs.
Paul shot a warning glare at the few other men in the gym that watched you walk in and hummed in confirmation.
Before you could grab the offered clothes he shifted, changing his mind moving to snatch the entire bag and his keys. Grabbing your arm in the process. And leaving Tyler with a half hearted wave before dragging you back out the door.
"Can you stop that!" You barked almost tripping on the wet pavement with your heels to match his pace.
"You weren't complaining when you walked all the way here from wherever you were." Was his retort holding open the passenger door of his blacked out Mercedes, a fight bonus check no doubt, and looked at you expectantly.
With a roll of your eyes you plopped down against the leather waiting until the door shut firmly.
"Actually I was you just weren't there to hear it."
"What?" He asked leaning in from the back seat where he apparently leaves his gym bag, 'Nothing!"
With a mumbled 'fine' he dropped it rounding the car to settle in behind the wheel, the car rumbles as he pushes the button making the rush of cold air blow out through the vents. "Jezz are you missing the snow you Neanderthal?"
He huffed reaching back to grab the discarded hoodie while you stared harshly through the windshield to avoid looking at the V line his shirt exposed. You can think he's a caveman and still appreciate the physique.
You were thankful for the extra warmth as goosebumps covered your arms while he adjusted the heat. The ride was silent as he drove one handed almost white knuckling it.
"Why did you pass the exit." He sped right passed your neighborhood well your random building that had a flooding problem every time it rained.
"What happened tonight?"
"Just..wanted the party to last longer than my roommates did.” The same roommates you shared that one bedroom with. That story was less embarising than admitting they forced you to come out stating you didn't have a life then ditched you when you didn't want to get black out with four frat boys from the university of Miami.
Paul laughed in the same irritating way he has since he was younger it takes over his entire body and filled up the car despite your deadpan expression.
"So they dragged you out and left when something more reckless came along?" God you hated how much he and your brother talked. "Rhys needs to mind his business."
"And you need new friends." You crossed your arms ignoring him, Chris Stapleton filled the air with a twitch of his fingers. The soft sway of the road almost lulled you to sleep the car slowed as he turned on his street. You sat up suddenly way more awake.
"Rhys is here!" He cringed at the volume of your question, "Well he does live here." The door slamming shut saved him from the daggers you imagined throwing at him.
You sat pouting in the car long enough for Paul to swing open your door.
“Come on princess you can’t sit out here forever.” Grumbling you took the offered hand following him to the door the sleeves of his hoodie sliding past your fingertips. Shyly sneaking a glance inside around Pauls shoulders you released a breath not seeing Rhys.
“He might be on a run trying to get used to the time difference.” Answered your unasked question.
Rhys had a fight in Dubai in a few months but he was leaving soon to prepare in country similar to what Paul did for the Usman fights.
You snickered remembering the glare the Irishman sent you every time Usman came on screen and you let out a sigh like a woman watching her lover go off to war.
“You can use my shower take whatever you want from the closet I’ll be here.” Paul blindly pointed to his room down the hall while leaning into the fridge no doubt looking for scraps.
“I think I can raid my brothers closet.” You voiced but crossed your arms holding tighter onto the hoodie, it’s not your fault it’s soft and smells good.
Paul laughed sounding like he almost choked around whatever he found to eat. “Sure go wear your brothers underwear didn’t know yous were that close.” His brows raised like he had one over on you and he did.
“Fuck you Paul.” Your favorite saying from years ago making a comeback as you flip him off but heading in the direction of his room.
“Wish you would.” He mumbled into his cup hoping the cold water would calm him down. That car ride has been the longest he'd been alone with you in years. And suddenly you weren’t Rhys little sister following them around anymore in his mind.
Speak of the devil. The door swings open and a disheveled Rhys strolls in chugging the last of his water shirt sticking like a second layer of skin from sweat and the left over rain.
Whatever greeting he was about to give Paul, paused when he heard the shower come on. Rhys eyes widened almost as much as his jaw, pointing to the hallway.
“Did you bring a girl home?” It was unheard of for that to happen. Paul nodded wordlessly.
“She’s in your shower?” Paul nodded again. And Rhys smile grew teasing
“Is she hot?” He leaned in like he could see through the set of walls.
“She’s your sister.” Paul took great joy in watching his friends body revolt in on itself at the information.
“Oh god no! Why! Why didn’t you tell me!” Rhys shivered pushing past him to grab a fresh bottle. Paul shrugged blaming it on Rhys not giving him a chance.
After the shock and disgust wore off Rhys sat on the couch knowing youd throw hands if he took a drop of hot water, it was safer to wait.
“I guess that brings up a question or well a favor I wanted to ask.” It was rare for Rhys to sound that serious so it caught Paul’s attention.
“You know how important Y/n is to me and I’m going to be gone for a few months would it be okay if she stayed in my room here with you until I got back?”
“What?” Paul is sure he didn’t hear that right. But he nodded and continued.
“I mean I can’t leave her with her shity roommates.” Paul decided against bringing up what happened tonight with said roommates.
“I mean she’s my little sister, I trust you more than anyone to watch out for her. .”
That was Rhys problem, he saw you as his little sister. Paul did not.
Not with the way he practically dove for his hoodie when he saw your nipples pebble up through your see through dress in the car.
“I don’t think that’s a great idea, I mean my coaches are here all the time.” Paul tried to do the right thing but got waved off.
“You wouldn’t let them do anything that’s why she needs to stay here she’s to nice to be out there alone.” Paul has only seen this nice side when you weren’t speaking to him, not since a hand full of years ago.
But he could see how much stress the thought of you alone put on Rhys and sighed.
“Yeah sure I’ll look after her.” It will be fine he’s a champion in a combat sport he can control himself.
It was that same moment you appeared again, hair clean, face free of any makeup, legs bare under his hoodie you slid back on. He watched you smile at Rhys and come up with some lie about wanted to see him before he left and Paul knew, it would not be okay.
The first week was fine it was a whirlwind of Rhys leaving and you moving in wearing the smallest clothes while lounging on the couch he’s ever seen in the few times you both cross paths.
The reality of you living there was way easier than Paul thought, he barley noticed you were even there, the only proof, was the left overs in the fridge and the occasional low music playing through the door.
And Paul had known you far too long to know that wasn't normal for you. Not when you've purposely left lipstick in his car years ago to piss off his girlfriend at the time which made her dump him, granted she cheated on him first, a fact you didn't share until later but still you were a tiny tornado in his life, so why weren't you now. It put him on edge.
Once again he came home from a training session with his coaches already telling them you were there and to behave, in fact he spent the entire session and the car ride over talking about it.
"I thought you said Y/n was here?" Both men looking around the house like they've never been there before looking for this new roomie of his seeing nothing.
"Y/n I'm home with visitors!" Paul shouts not skipping a step in putting his things away. The guys were going to joke that this 'girl' was in his imagination till you padded down the hall.
Paul had to ground himself before turning around hearing that sweet tone you put on for new people.
He hesitated after taking in your clothing choice, a large hoodie and yoga pants were your uniform, either one of Rhys or his they no doubt mixed up in the laundry before you moved in, but today you forgone pants and wore a hoodie he's never seen.
You could feel Pauls eyes on you with their normal distain as you made small talk with his coaches, Ryan and Colin, you had tried to make yourself as small as possible, not wanting to bother him in his own house, but you didn't know what you did this time.
His coaches however are lovely what you planned to be a polite pop in and out turned into a gossip session about the other fighters in the gym.
"He said Carlos could sleep with his wife if he beat him? Thats crazy!" You cackled from your spot sitting criss cross on the couch clapping your hands.
Paul rolled his eyes at all of you but you caught a small smile when he added in extra detail he's heard only adding to the humor of it all.
"It was everywhere after the fight luckily Ian won but everyone was watching that one." Ryan chuckled shaking his head at the memory.
After yapping for a coupe of hours Ryan and Collin headed out you took our escape back to your room while Paul walked them out.
You've never understood why your brother had a mini fridge in his room until now, now you couldn't live without it. Snatching a poppy all set to curl up in bad with your fluffy socks.
Rhys would kill you if you told anyone, but you both always watched reality tv from wherever you were in the world then after, would always have something to talk about, its a big roll as to why you both are so close if you had to guess.
Just as you were about to press play a quiet knock sounded at your door. You furrowed your brows knowing it had to be Paul, but he's never sought you out in the time you've been here.
Suddenly you racked your brain for anything you could have possibly said to embarrass him in front of his team.
"Come in" the door softly pushed open and without surprise Paul stepped in leaning his shoulder on the door frame you caught his eyes roaming, noticing the few changes you made to the room before his questioning eyes landed on you.
"Why are you." He started before shaking his head, and dropping his shoulders deciding that wasn't the way to ask his question. "I just wanted to make sure you're comfortable here. You don't have to always hide in here.”
Oh, you didn't know he noticed, always the workaholic he didn’t always see what was happening around him. So you were shocked he did, even more that he mentioned it.
You felt your guard lower a little at the sincerity in his gaze this wasn’t a random thing he had thought about it. Making you feel at home.
“That’s uh nice Paul thank you.” You swallowed. Picking at your nails under the covers watching Paul shrug his shoulders like it was nothing.
“If there’s anything I can do to make you feel more at home just let me know.”
As far as you could remember you and Paul fought like a married couple, he was never..soft like this. Considerate, You didn’t know how to take it.
“I’m about to watch the secret lives of Mormon wives. Do you want to join.” His eyebrows shot up at the suggestion watching you pat the empty spot next to you on the bed, and suddenly his body was moving before he could think.
Paul was sure a bed had never felt smaller than it did in that moment. Of course you weren’t watching it on the flat screen across from you no. It was on your laptop. Your tiny, currently sitting on your bare thighs Laptop.
“Can you see it from over there?” You spoke innocently enough over the intro of the show but the teasing smile on your face told him he wasn’t hiding his tense shoulders very well.
Clearing his throat he scooted closer, bed shifting with his movements
Until you could feel the heat of him brushing your shoulder.
After about thirty minutes of Paul sitting ramrod straight next to you, an idea popped in your head. He wanted you to be comfortable right.
You picked up your computer, sitting it on his lap before he could protest and slid your arm around his, curling into his bicep. Which you swear is bigger than the last time you were both in this position.
Granted you were half way to black out drunk when he picked you up from a party and you might've drolled on him but now, you just sighed into his shoulder the smell of his body wash you recognized from his borrowed hoodie, currently hung up in your closet.
Eventually you felt him relax under you, his fingers twitching against your knee.
The rumble of his chest was surprisingly soothing as he laughed at the show. Not nearly as annoying as normal.
The show ended but Paul hesitated just watching you lean against him, noticing you weren’t quick to move either. This was the worst realization he could’ve possibly had.
When you finally did pull away he lunges out of the bed, awkwardly standing in the center of the room like a soldier waiting for orders, making you giggle behind your hand.
Paul playfully rolled his eyes heading for the door until you called out to him. You were back to fiddling with your nails again. That same soft look in your eyes as before.
“You wanted me to be comfortable here right.” He hated how small you sounded like you couldn’t believe he’d even care about it.
“Well normally when I’m at home…”
You dragged out second guessing telling him.
“Whatever you need, you just need to say it.” He reaffirmed. You nodded your head meeting his gaze again.
“I normally walk around naked.” Shrugging your shoulders you couldn’t hold in the giggle any longer. Paul’s groan echoed, waving you off before exiting.
“Good night!” He shouts through the door followed by Irish mumbling. And like a little girl you fell back onto your bed giggling.
You laid back staring at the ceiling as the laughter faded and the feeling of how right tonight felt, like maybe you weren’t alone.
On the other side of the door Paul leans against the wall, he swears he could still feel you pressed against him, breathing in sync.
He hits his palms against his head hoping it knocks some sense into him or at the very least knock you out.
But six years of getting punched in the face hasn’t worked. So why would this.
“Fuck Paul,” you gasped as he canted your hips changing the angle. Nodding along with your babbles.
“Yeah right there?” He asked knowing you were far too gone in pleasure to answer.
His hands ran up your waist to your ribs fingers splayed out to cover as much skin as possible now that he finally could as you bounced. Whimpering every time he hit that spot inside you.
“You’re such a good girl for me.”
The sounds wrapped around his brain like barbed wire tugging him closer to your body with every noise that left your parted lips.
“God.” He choked when you changed pace now a dirty grind in his lap. Your moan echoes with every brush of your clit against him.
He couldn’t believe how perfect you felt so wet so warm. and tight enough he felt like you were tugging his soul out with every rise of your hips before slamming back down.
Pauls head fell backward with a deep groan you felt and heard wash over your body, the line of his throat to welcoming you couldn’t help leaning down to press small kisses and bites to his neck when it felt just to good.
Your nipples rubbed against his chest with every movement, you felt him all around you his voice talking you through it, hands never staying in one spot to long the stretch of him inside you was all to much.
Mumbling out a mixture of words Paul could only pick out a few of. “Can’t” “feels good” with some curses mixed in to your sweet sounds you were making.
For him, only him.
Reaching up he lead you to rest your forehead against his keeping eye contact with you by the grip on your jaw.
“Does it feel to good huh? Me filling you up like this over and over.” He punctuated his words with upwards thrust, the combination making you feel dumb with it just letting him use you however he wanted.
“I’ve thought about this forever, I’ve always wanted you, knew you’d be so perfect and good for me” he panted against you seeing your brows scrunch up and felt your grip on his shoulders tighten.
“Yeah that’s it let go for me, give it to me I want to feel you.” Just as he felt your body start to shake he shot up gasping
He blinked rapidly trying to clear his vision only seeing the empty bed he fell asleep on and no you.
“Fuck!” He shouted slamming a hand down on the mattress. This was hardly the first sex dream he’s had about you.
But it was the first you were just one door away, if he really wanted to he could knock on it praying you felt the same way and could make it a reality.
No, no that’s your best friend little sister you can’t do that he repeats like a mantra staring a hole in the ceiling.
It’s fine he’s just going to put as much distance as possible no more cuddle sessions in bed with you. The number one priority is staying away.
This was not staying away from you. Paul almost broke his neck from how fast he turned around hearing your voice, for a second he thought he was imagining it.
But no, there you were. Wearing a matching blue gym set, walking side by side with one of the other fighters.
Looking perfectly content with him carrying your bag for you while Paul, was losing his mind.
This was his safe place, but you walked in immediately making it yours. Because of course plaguing his dreams wasn't enough, you had to take over every waking moment as well, he'll give you that, you don't do anything half way.
He turned to Ryan and Collin, almost to make sure they were seeing the same thing he was and you weren't some mirage, judging by their matching knowing smirks, they did.
That morning you had woken up with a new perspective, you and Paul had been hot and cold, enemies to friends dancing around each other for to long. You were over it.
So now you were in control, done waiting for Paul to set the tone now. You've made him lose it before knowing exactly which buttons to push, you could do it again. And step one was walking right into kill cliff.
It was almost to easy, you weren't past the threshold of the gym before someone was sliding up all to happy to carry your bag and lead you across the floor to where the cage was set up.
Making your laugh a touch louder than normal caught your targets attention, you watched a flurry of emotions cross his face. But that wasn't enough for you.
Luckily the gym wasn't as busy as usual, so stopping in the middle of the floor was no problem. Fluttering your eyelashes at the fighter whose name you honestly didn't remember.
"Thank you again for carrying my bag." Luckily for you, dude was the classic gym bro and was all to happy to show off the size of his arms.
"It's no problem sweetheart it's what these are for." He flaxes his free arm closest to you, veins bulging like he has no worry of getting drug tested. Not your type.
Taking the invitation and hammering in the nail. You reached up giving it a squeeze oohing and awning. And he ate it up.
He was in the middle of telling you all the weight he could lift when you felt it. The unwavering presents of the irishman at your back.
"Hey sweetheart," Paul gritted out between a clenched jaw, smiling in faux politeness at the man, his arm was heavy from where it landed across your shoulder.
you inwardly smiled it was so easy, just a beat later he was taking your bag from gym bro and sliding it on his own shoulder.
The guy looked between you and Paul confidence unwavering, feeling the tension coming off of Paul you worried for a second you might've picked the wrong time and place.
He might not be a hot head but he was in a place where violence usually lead.
"You two know each other?"
"She's my-" "we've crossed paths." You shrugged, smiling innocently, ignoring the glare currently aimed at the side of your face. Gym bro nodded slowly.
"Does that mean you want to go-"
"What's that Ryan? You need us okay!" Paul shouted across the room, steering you with both hands on your waist towards his coaches. Who shook in barely contained laughter.
Once you were far enough away and Paul had enough people in between you and lover boy over there he dropped your bag with a thud, Hands now moving to his hips as he stared at you.
"What are you doing here?" Your head tilted in confusion, you have him right where you want him.
"Well you and Rhys talk so highly of this place I wanted to check it out." If his eyes rolled any harder you'd be worried they'd stay like that.
"Don't lie to me, you don't even know how to punch." His head shook looking like he was going through the five stages of grief. one second his fingers were pinching between his eyes the next throwing them in the air.
"You're right," you paused tapping your chin with a finger as if deep in thought,
"I bet he'd teach me though." You hadn't turned around a full inch before he was yanking you back in front of him.
"Whatever that is, isn't training so why are you really here." He gestured all round you rapidly, dropping his chin to meet your eyes like he could read your mind.
"Well you don't look like you're training either." You point out, waiting until you bent down to let the smile cross your face, as you dug through your bag for part two. Paul sighed pursing his lips to not blow up at you.
He knows he acted like a caveman seeing you touch another man, but it was just last night it was his arm you were leaning on.
He blames the dream on his sudden possessiveness. Being confronted he shuddered out an excuse about watching out for you like Rhys asked of him.
“Who’s lying now.” You scoffed straightening back up, sucking the lollipop between your lips. The action not going unnoticed as Pauls words stumbled to a stop.
His coaches were fussing over something behind you a few feet away, so the show was just for him.
"When are you going to stop blaming my brother for how you act around me." He's done it for years, steering clear of you one day then the next beating up your ex boyfriend for making you cry,
Rhys didn't even know about it, it was Paul you told. Alright maybe his possessiveness wasn’t so sudden.
Your relationship has always been like that, being each other's persons when it mattered but acting like it was nothing, well now you wanted something.
Pauls eyes hadn't left your lips as he battled an internal conflict. The next time he spoke his voice took on a tone you haven't heard before.
"Let's go." Paul scooped up both of your bags much like that night in the rain except this time his hand didn't settle on your back, no it came up to the back of your neck,
fingers squeezing slightly against your jugular as he steered you through the gym and parking lot. As quickly as he grabbed you he let go.
Throwing both your bags in the truck he started to pace the length of the car.
"This is a bad idea we shouldn't cross that line." running his hand over his head. he was trying to convince himself not to while nodding his head yes. He was right there on the edge just one little push.
"We've already crossed it Paul." You spoke honestly, the secret hidden kisses you shared when emotions were high that honestly ruined anybody else for the both of you. All those moments ran through his mind as he froze.
With a new found assuredness he slowly closed the gap. Until you felt his steady breath, hands framing your face as he leans in, words brushing against your lips as he swore.
"Fuck it."
"Surprised you're both alive." Rhys sang. Lounging back on the couch across from Paul, his plane landed a hour ago back to the states having won his fight he carried an ease about him.
That probably wouldn't last much longer.
"So what'd I miss." before Paul could respond you came in arms full of the welcome home snacks you made Rhys.
Setting them nicely on the coffee table between both men. And took your new spot next to Paul, instinctively throwing your leg over your boyfriends.
Who immediately entered a stare down with your brother, nerves filling his body as Rhys eyes shifted from your leg over his to your eyes then to Pauls for a tense minute. Paul flinched when Rhys started laughing.
"It's about time!" In shock Paul looked to you seeing an easy going smile on your face as you shrugged. "Told you it'd be fine." You winked.
More at ease he chuckled leaning back with his arm behind you on the back of the couch.
"Just wait till he finds out you moved into my room."
"Wait what?!"
Yay I hope you guys liked it leave a comment if you did I love reading them 🫶 I haven’t written smut in forever so I hope it wasn’t cringe
In which Magomed falls hard and fast for his pretty new translator. UFC MASTERLIST
Had a bit of writers block so it’s not perfect but it definitely got me back in the swing of it I hope you all like it. Also I don’t speak Russian well enough yet so just imagine it’s Russian when they are talking
'This is a horrible idea.' You mumbled to yourself, how you let Alexei talk you into this you don't even remember but a quick glance back at the almost completely glass house the ufc rented you jogged your memory a bit.
Gathering whatever courage you had, you let your fist rap against the door.
Nervously you wiped your sweaty palms that you'll blame on the Vegas heat on your pants, flinching when you heard a crash inside.
Nearly jumping back from shock at how quickly the door swung open, obviously the man on the other side was just as shocked to see you standing there.
“Uh no English” he stumbled through. Eyes darting around the yard behind you like he was expecting someone else.
“That’s no problem I’m looking for Magomed I’m y/n.” His shoulders dropped in relief hearing you speak Russian. Meanwhile you were praying it sounded right. This was your first conversation in the language with anyone other than Alexei.
“He’s not expecting any women.” Before the bearded man could shut the door, you flattened your palm against it with a smack keeping it ajar. His head tilted like he was trying to read your intentions.
“I’m his translator the ufc hired me.” Which seemed to be the magic words as his body language changed
His mouth made a o shape, almost looking embarrassed as he let you through.
The house wasn’t a total mess but you could tell a bunch of men were staying here. The man Boris you learned lead you outside into the back yard where a group of men were playing some form of basketball in the pool.
Boris shouted announcing your arrival making the mens heads swivel in your direction.
'Oh my god' you're suddenly regretting not even googling Magomeds name on the flight over, that would've saved you from the embarrassment of drooling over him as you watch him step out of the pool like some Baywatch actor. It was easy to tell he was the guy with how the rest of them moved around him.
The team were not at all as intimidating as they looked and of course they saved the best for last.
Magomeds eyes ran over you feigning disinterest but you caught a flash of amusement in his eyes. running a hand over his beard as he spoke.
"You don't look like my last translator." He stated the obvious, making you shrug your shoulders.
"I'm funnier too.” That earned a low laugh from everyone as he nodded in possible acceptance.
Much like the day before your second day started early at the fighters hotel with some media, you learned quickly as the day went on it was the same question just worded differently it was draining.
You slumped against the backseat of whatever car the team had today trying to make yourself as small as possible to avoid being squished against the door and Sukhrab, the coach.
Magomed unlike you stretches out in the passenger seat with a sigh, tilting his head enough to catch your eye.
“You eat dinner with us.” He phrased it like a question but you knew a man like him didn’t make many requests. It was an order.
You were surprised to see the house looked cleaner when you ducked under Magomeds arm through the door the massive Russian following closely behind.
The air smelled like a five star restaurant as the private chef made their magic, the island was covered with steak, chicken and vegetables. You almost forgot about the weight cut.
Magomed walked past you and tapped his fingers on the back of a chair you took the hint and sat down, slightly shocked when he landed in the seat next to you.
Sure he was always polite but never got this close to you always keeping a respectful distance, you glanced around at everyone else already in their seats as the chef passed out everyone’s plates it wasn’t till the conversations lulled that you noticed them all starring in your direction.
“We’re waiting for you to eat first.” You shivered at the low timber he whispered in your ear. Oh. Taking a small bite hoping to get all the eyes off you, instantly the conversation picks up again and everyone goes back to what they were doing. Until Magomed leaned in again speaking in your ear.
“So how did you learn Russian?” You swallowed something about him made his attention feel like you just touched a live wire it made you feel equally nervous and excited.
“Your original translator Alexei, was my neighbor growing up, he didn’t speak English when his family first moved here so we learned off each other really, Boris was the first conversation I had outside of him.” You explained, while Magomed tried to not let the slight twinge of jealousy show that he wasn’t the one who opened the door yesterday.
He’s sure he hasn’t taken his eyes off of you since then actually even during media when everyone asked him questions his eyes didn’t leave you. Noticing how you look up and to the left when you’re trying to remember what was said. Or how your head tilts when you’re teasing someone. Or the sparkle you get in your eye when he drops his tone, which he's not even sure you notice that one about yourself, but he did.
He already had his manager drafting an official email to the ufc demanding you always be assigned to him or he wouldn’t fight. It might have been chance you were picked at random but he decided you were his now.
In fact he already had a plan.
Who in their right mind would be banging on your door right now. With a groan you pulled yourself out of bed ready to bite whoever woke you up head off.
But the second you opened the door you were lifted in the air with a yelp and carried back inside.
“Why aren’t you wearing clothes you didn’t even look to see who it was!” It took your sleepy brain a second to catch up who was talking to you even longer to realize you were eye to eye with Magomed and not having to crick your neck. You kicked your dangling feet to confirm what you thought, he had you in air jail.
“Better question is why are you banging on my door at.” You turned your head to read his watch. “At 5:30 in the morning!”
“We’re running.” Finally setting you down in favor of looking down at you with his hands on his hips, sighing like an exasperated parent.
“Since when?” Blinking up at him you racked your brain for when you agreed to this.
“I decided you would join us last night.”
You scoffed, the last thing you want to do is run if you were being honest you only went to bed like three hours ago to busy watching edits of the man in front of you on TikTok for hours.
He clapped his hands as if to hurry you along when you didn’t move.
“Can I join you tomorrow please….”
“No get dressed.” With another groan you mopped upstairs feeling like you could easily collapse back in bed at the sight of it, you threw open the closet doors when an idea hit you.
Striding right past the one gym outfit you had instead you slid on the shortest silk shorts and matching deep blue top, if he thought your T shirt that went to your knees was bad he wasn’t letting you leave like this.
Striding back down the stairs a fresh pep in your step you stood behind Magomed waiting for him to turn around.
“I’m ready!”
“No.”
“This is all I have!”
“That’s even worse than before.” He mumbled to himself rubbing his palms into is eyes like he couldn’t believe this is what he was dealing with, suddenly he straightened and stripped off his hoodie and slid it over your head in one fluid motion. Smirking to himself like he solved it.
“It’s 100 degrees out I can’t run in a hoodie.” You could feel your hair standing in all directions at his actions. Struggling to get your arms through the sleeves.
“Fine, tomorrow you join team..and we buy you real clothes.” He pointed a finger at you driving the statement home and opened your front door.
"Lock the door behind me." He softly demanded, tone completely different from two seconds ago and shut the door behind himself.
You only had a second to sigh to yourself before the door was ripped back open again making you jump back ten feet with a scream.
Magomed popped his head back in, a cocky smirk plastered on his face seeing you literally clutching your pearls staring wide eyed at him.
He nodded his head as if saying 'see' he shut the door softly this time and looked in through the window next to the door, pointing at the lock until you moved and flipped it shut did he finally leave. Releasing a breath you pressed your back against the door mumbling to yourself.
"Crazy Russians."
After getting a few extra hours you were more awake and ready to play tug of war with two languages all day, you walked through the doors of the fighters hotel seeing ufc personal take over the lobby, and of course you didn't see your massive Russian anywhere,
woah when did you start calling him yours? Shaking those thoughts out of your head you stopped the nearest person asking if they knew where you were supposed to go, they didn't but they pointed you towards some other group of men.
Making your way towards the group you waved to gain their attention trying English first, "Hi im Y/n do any of you know where I can find Magomed Ankalaev?" The tallest of the four smiled politely and shook your hand introducing himself as Jiri, offering to take you where you need to go.
"Do you work for the UFC?" Jiri asked, leading you down the maze of hallways pointing out important rooms on your way. His accent such a stark difference than what you've been hearing the past week.
"No, well yes. Maybe I'm not sure." Jiri's shoulders shook with his deep laugh,
"I think that was every answer possible." He tease holding the door open for you.
Your giggle accidentally drew Magomeds attention from in front of the camera. Snarl immediately twisting his face. The camera man was none the wiser of the rising danger in the room the longer Jiri spoke to you. "There we go look mean" followed by rapid clicks.
"Im his translator"
"you're Alexeis friend?" Jiri interrupts, looking like he pieced a puzzle together.
"Yeah, how'd you know?" You couldn’t help but smile at the shock.
Before he could answer your name was shouted your heads turned seeing Magomed pointing at the photographer. "What he saying?"
"Turn to the right." You spoke earning a glare at the short response. But begrudgingly doing as told still keeping you in view.
"I should probably go back to work." You explained looking back to Jiri who shook his head.
"I think he's fine im enjoying talking to you." Honestly it was nice speaking English again and not having to second guess it so you stayed huddled in the corner oblivious of the fire burning in Magomeds chest.
It wasn't ten minutes of talking that a shadow loomed over you and Jiris' eyes left yours to something behind you. Big hands covered your upper arm the next second warming you to the bone.
"Ankalaev."
Magomed didn't respond just looked at him with that flat look, his gaze softening as he tiled down to see your face.
"Can you come over here" before I kill him. he kept to himself. Jiri shot you a wink after saying goodbye leaving you and Magomed alone.
Who was much closer than you thought when you turned and nearly ran into his chest. His..shiny...strong…shirtless chest..less than an Inch away. Uh oh.
"What'd he want?"
You literally couldn’t form a thought the lighting in the room made the contours of his muscles look even more defined like you would cut your finger if you reached out.
“I uh he we just talked.” Your eyes dragged back up to his face where he was still expecting an answer.
“Drama is the next room over, you ready?” Boris luckily for you, walked up cutting the tension handing Magomed his shirt. Not breaking eye contact he slid it on fabric almost brushing your nose at the proximity.
“After you.” Magomed reached past your arm and opened the door. Gripping it at the top to hold it ajar, letting you slip under his arm.
You both walk silently down the hallway breath catching every time your hands brush together.
Magomed left your side to sit next to Nina, only after making sure you were settled next to the camera.
As Nina called action you were focused flawlessly translating everything she said and the same for the Russian.
"Seriously?" He rolled his eyes as you translated her question of what fruit he'd be. You decided to just nod and keep his irritation between you.
"Watermelon." You replied to Nina as she flipped through her book the question went on and on you kind of zoned out just mindlessly switching languages. Until one made the room temperature drop and rise at the same time.
"Ive always wondered because we've all seen that video of Khabib and DC fighting over who's gloves are who's how do you keep up with your stuff and not get them mixed up?" She innocently asked seems like an easy question but to Magomed who's only been picturing you leaning into Jiri and laughing, it had a double meaning.
"I mark what's mine." He's been looking at you the entire time, actually since you met him but its never had that heat behind it before.
"Uh he writes his name on it." Close enough right.
"Thats not what I said." He points out, oh now he knows English huh.
"It's how it's translated in English!" You barked, he immediately leaned forward resting his forearms on his knees.
The intense look on his face shifted suddenly as he shrugged and relaxed back into the chair.
"Thats fine, you're the only one that was meant to hear it." Now you were blushing, you cough looking at an expectant Nina hearing a lot of conversation for a short answer.
"Can you cut that out." He smirked seeing you flustered, that was more like it. You looked better blushing for him than laughing at the Czech.
The room filled with steam as you stepped out of the bathroom towel drying your hair, this is the first time today you were free of Magomeds stares,
after all the media and photos you took cover at you house while the guys went to do whatever it is they do before dinner, where you'd normally meet them after but pizza was calling your name so you rain checked. Which with a quick glance from the floor to ceiling windows in your bedroom includes the pool again.
Nope redirecting your eyes from the water you take in the pink and yellow hews of the setting sun which shines beautifully off of Magomeds back,
'no, no stop that'
You yelped and dropped to the floor as you locked eyes. You sighed and dropped your forehead to the floor as you heard your phone ding. Army crawling across the floor to avoid farther embarrassment, and of course its the man himself.
Magomed: While you're looking you should look on your front step.
You: I was watching the sunset.
Magomed: from the floor?
You: that was yoga..
Magomed: be good and look out front.
You peaked your head up just to see him standing hip deep in the pool phone in hand pointing to the front yard. You listened mumbling to yourself the entire way until you opened the door.
"Oh" different size clothing bags covered the porch some you immediately recognized like the tiffany blue, and Dior, orange Hermes thrown in.
You bend down seeing a note hanging from one of the handles.
"Some real clothes - M"
"Thank you!" You shouted already grabbing as many bags as you can carry at a time. Ding,
Magomed: You're welcome.
Now bouncing up the stairs tossing the bags on the bed immediately ripping into them. You hate he spent this type of money on you and won't touch the reason why he did with a ten foot pole, but you did love shopping.
You were mostly through all the bags new gym wear already folded. Jewelry laid out, The designer shirts made from the softest fabric you've ever felt hanging up. there was one bag that didn't look like the rest.
You sat down sinking into the plush comforter and pulled the black duffel towards you. Zipping it open you see the familiar ufc and venum logos of the fighters kit, sweat pants, jackets and shirts even a pair of gloves, all with Ankalaev written in gold on the back. You grab your phone snapping a picture.
You: I think you mixed up one of your bags.
Magomed: I didn't. Wear it tomorrow we're going to the gym. Goodnight Y/N.
Yeah you forgot about the gym deciding to take his advice you call it a night, cleaning up the rest of the bags and setting your clothes for tomorrow on the back of a nearby chair. The gold lettering of the shirt reflecting from the streetlights outside as you laid down making a single sentence from earlier pop in your head.
'I mark what's mine.'
The next day you were up bright and early being driven to the PI, seeing you were still half asleep Boris took pity on you and lead you to the cafe leaving you with a coffee and directions to their reserved space. Magomed practically floated up the stairs, been smiley all morning seeing his name across your back.
An hour later you were half way through the coffee and now felt alive and ready to join the guys.
"Excuse me, are you a fighter?" You halted In your step shaking your head at the receptionist.
"Oh no I'm"
"You have to be accompanied by a fighter beyond this point." The lady looks half way to calling security before you could start to explain a heavy arm draped over your shoulders followed by a deep familiar accent.
"She's with me." You looked up to Jiri shooting you a wink and directing you up the stairs without a spared glance to reception.
"Thank you." Jiri waved off your thanks. "Don't worry about it those girls always start drama I'm sure that interaction will be on twitter before the days over"
You both barely hit the second floor before the room paused everyone looking in your direction or more closely the point of contact between you and the Czech,
it didn't tale long at all for everyone to catch on to Magomeds possessiveness over you. So they looked back and forth like a tennis match.
You and Jiri to a stiff and staring Magomed.
Even you caught on this time and decided to deescalate the situation, shrugging off his arm, waving goodbye as you speed walked over to magomeds side. Who almost looked pleased at your decision and continued to train.
“Guess no one taught him to read” you heard him mumbling and asked what he said unable to make it out.
“Nothing.”
Alexei promised you a vacation. Getting up at 5am and being on the same diet as MR. weight cut over, the pizza night excluded, wasn’t your idea of tanning poolside with doughnuts.
But here you are in a sauna squished between a bunch of Russians sweating out every toxin in your body or at least that’s what Magomed said every time you whined.
“It’s not that bad just wait for the weigh ins thats when it gets crazy, fighters everywhere.” Magomed groaned at Boris’s reminder. Making you huff out a small laugh.
“That doesn't sound that bad everyone seems nice, at least compared to media" You point out. Remembering your headache every night after. Magomed looked down at you. Even sitting he still towered over you.
“Thought you didn’t know fighters?” He asked tilting his head watching your response.
“I mean Jiri seems nice enough.” You were so busy trying not to pass out from the heat you didn’t realize everyone else slowly leave the sauna till only you and Magomed remained.
A large hand gently grabs your jaw and pulls it to look him in the eyes stopped your musings. His thumb glided over a bead of sweat on your cheekbone.
“You're wearing my name, hm?” So stunned from the sudden chain of events you just nodded his hand moving along with it. Now you were about to pass out for another reason. The hand slid down to your throat, not squeezing just a reminder of who was in charge now.
"You stay by me yes? No more Czech. Understand." Again at a loss for words you nod.
“Good” he moved to stand holding out a towel for you, squeezing your shoulder once it was wrapped around you,
After that day Magomed was a magnet. Lingering touches, forehead kisses that lasted a little too long to be innocent when you said goodnight.
Plans together after the fight, Even a email from Dana White himself offering a permanent position.
Fine print of course saying your saddled up with a certain Russian who was currently sitting across from you, a look of victory matching the belt hanging over his shoulder.
"What did you say?" He asked after you read the contract to him leaning back into the wall every step closer you took. You sighed smiling at him resting your hand over the best settling yourself in his lap, his hands coming up to rest on your hips. "You going to be mine?" He added.
“Well I signed the contract if that’s what you mean.” You replied unable so stifle a smile when he moved the belt to your shoulders, the weight of it surprising you.
Magomed was too busy permanently cementing the image of you in his lap. Wearing his name on your back with his belt laying against your chest.
His silence meaning that wasn’t exactly the question he was referring to. So he asked again this time in heavily accented English but the sentiment wasn’t lost, he was trying to make it easier for you.
Running your nails through his short hair the lingering sweat not even catching your attention with the way he tilted his head into you and gazes at you. Like he would burn the world for you if you asked.
That type of devotion would have scared you coming from anyone else but you’ve known him long enough now to see that’s just the type of man he is. All or nothing.
“Thought I already was.”
Hi! Hope you all liked it leave a comment and reblog if you did request are open as well! 🫶
Just saw an interview with Merab where he said that he wants 10 kids…damn
But what kinks do you think that merab has? 🤭
This! Just this!! I love little question like this
Okay let’s try this! Also my messages are always open if anyone wants to fan girl with me
Overstimulation for sure if you’re good we all know he can go for hours man has a never ending gas tank I mean he spared 5 rounds the morning of his last fight that energy has to go somewhere
Now if you’re bad I think it could flip to edging just making you a complete mess while he barely breaks a sweat and he loves that power imbalance.
With what you said about ten kids (which I thought Islam was crazy when he said 7 but now this is crazy)
Probably a housewife kink just coming home to you having dinner waiting house clean kids taken care of just makes him go haywire he wants to spend all his money on a big nice house for you to fuss over and seeing you bent over the sink just makes him want to fill you up and make sure you always have something to take care of.
Now I don’t know what this one would be called but you know he loves showing off the few times you go to the gym he’s fighting EVERYBODY “look how much faster I am” “how much stronger I am” that type of thing, he knows it gets you hot watching him ragdoll these men and it hits that same housewife thing showing you how much of a man he is that he can provide better than anyone else.
And he loves showing you off too the nice jewelry draping off you in glitter and gold your one of a kind birkin handing off your shoulder like it’s nothing the tiny shorts or skirts you wear knowing he won’t let anything happen drives him wild knowing you trust him like that. likes to feel better than all the men that gaze at you. Knowing they won’t dare take a step in your direction unless they want to meet the machine.
