#antoine rousself

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Antoine Roussel #1

Requested by Anon:  Since it seems Antoine loves to fight could you write an imagine where Antoine Roussel gets in a bad fight during a game because a player on the other team was making vulgar/rude comments about you. Afterword when you see him he's all cut up and being adorable but still angry at what the other man had said.

*Here it is!! Aaah, thank you. I hope you like this one. Rouss is my favorite French man. <3 Enjoy!*

Word count: 808

Minou was nowhere in sight, which is weird because that cat is with Antoine wherever he goes. How many times have you woken up in the middle of the night just to find them cuddling on the couch? Countless times, you couldn’t even remember the last time you cuddled on the couch without Minou sitting by the foot, waiting for his turn.

“Where’s Minou?” you asked curiously, sitting on the edge of the couch and putting the basin of lukewarm water on the floor.

“Je ne sais pas,” he shrugged before wincing, clearly not hiding the fact that his shoulder is bothering him.

You frowned, “it’s weird that you don’t know,” you told him honestly, “or it’s weird that he’s leaving us alone,” you sniggered.

Minou is a jealous cat. He’s always been in Antoine’s life and then maybe he wasn’t fond of having someone else, like you, share his alone time with his human.

“You’d like that,” he teased.

It’s not that you hate Minou, you love that cat, it’s just that his jealousy gets to you sometimes. Is that weird? You, a human, jealous of a cat? That’s funny.

“Sometimes,” you chuckled, “but he has these cat instincts and he just knows every time you get into a fight,” you paused, “which is every other game, mind you,” you couldn’t resist pointing out.

You took out the warm, damp, hand towel and pressed it against his bruising face, “tonight was particularly bad,” you started to clean the cut on his lip, “I thought you broke your nose.”

He smirked, “but I broke his nose which is more awesome.”

You snorted, “you say that like you came out of the fight unscathed,” you pushed the towel a little harder and he winced, “you need to be extra careful now,” you reminded him, “you’re not the youngest enforcer anymore, Rou.”

He pulled you into his embrace, “but you have to agree,” he kissed the top of your head, “I am still the most handsome.”

“Only because Segs doesn’t fight,” you laughed, joking before sobering, “you can’t punch everyone who looks at you silly,” you told him.

“But he wasn’t just looking at me funny,” he defended.

“Well, you can’t punch everyone who chirps you,” you changed your statement.

He stroked your hair softly, as if you were the one who had a messed up face and not him, “he was not a good person,” he justified his actions, “he said some pretty mean things.”

“Oh yeah?” you asked, turning so you could see his face, “like what?”

“Did they tell you Django was an ugly cat?” you joked. No one would ever dare tell Antoine Roussel that his cat was ugly. Minou isn’t even ugly, honestly. For all his jealousy and the times he slept on top of your fresh underwear, Minou is a lovable and mellow kitty.

“More like he told me that you looked like the type to fuck the entire Stars roster,” he said grumpily.

You frowned at that, “that’s not really nice,” you muttered, “I’m glad you punched him,” you leaned back against his chest, “he deserved it. Did he say more?”

You felt him nod, “but I’m not gonna tell you anymore,” he growled, “so I hope you understand why I had to break his nose,” he reasoned, “I would’ve broken more if I could.”

You sat up and looked down at him, giving him a gentle smile, “thank you,” you kissed his jaw, “but you didn’t have to do that. I’m furious and I will kick his balls the next time I see him,” you started, “but you didn’t have to get your face wrecked for me.”

He frowned, like maybe he didn’t understand what you were saying, “I love you so I did,” he scoffed, “no one has the right to say bad things about my girlfriend and my cat.”

You sniggered, “of course.” Minou is included in the equation, “would you have fought just as hard when he said that Minou was the ugliest cat he’s ever seen?”

He frowned, “are you telling me that Minou is the ugliest cat you’ve ever seen?”

You laughed, “hypotheticals! And no, Django is not ugly, so?”

He sniggered, pulling you against him again, “maybe not as hard,” he told you, “maybe I would have docked more.”

“Okay,” you smiled, satisfied by his answer. What would you have done if he said yes? Strangle the cat.

“You have to repay me for defending you honor,” he chuckled.

“Oh yeah? How?”

When he didn’t answer, you lifted your head to see his face. He had his bruised lips puckered, “maybe a kiss?”

You kissed him gingerly, making sure that you didn’t apply pressure to his bruise. Pulling back, you beamed at him, “just a kiss, my gladiator?”

He grinned back at you, tightening his hold on your waist, “maybe also a cuddle.”