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golden-cherry · 2 years ago

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deal - cl16 (3/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: Charles takes you on an adventure, that you won't forget that easily.

Warnings: angst (talks about Charles dad), comfort, google translated French

Word Count: 3.4k

series masterlist

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A/N: part 3! hope you enjoy it! feedback is appreciated!

Sitting on the passenger side of your own car is strange.

It doesn't feel completely wrong, but still, a queasy feeling spreads through you. Like when you lived with your parents. Whenever someone was visiting, your mom had said, "Just sit anywhere," and of course the guests didn't know that you had an unassigned assigned seat. And when they actually sat down in your seat and you couldn't sit in yours, you had the same feeling as you do now at this moment.

After you dressed for the weather, you grabbed your car keys and your camera. If Charles was actually taking you to the most beautiful viewpoint in the country, then maybe you could snap some pictures for your private Instagram account. Your little private photo album. With no followers, no obligations.

Charles car is at his primary residence, according to his statement. Except for a few cars, the underground garage where your car is parked is empty. Your roommate insisted on driving because, first, you don't know where the trip is going and, second, he doesn't want to tell you where to go. Grumpily, you threw him the key and he caught it with a grin.

Then Charles made himself comfortable in the driver's seat of your old Renault as if it were his birthright. Right hand on the wheel, left elbow on the door and head propped on his hand, he maneuvers you through the streets of Monaco. Black sunglasses sit on his nose and the radio plays a pop song that somehow gets played every time you get in the car. Charles whistles along with the rhythm.

You turn in his direction. "Are you going to tell me where exactly we're going?"

Instead of answering you, he just shakes his head briefly. He runs a hand through his brown hair once, whistling merrily along.

You roll your eyes and rub your forehead.

Not only did you just get in the car with a stranger - to be fair, it's your car and Charles isn't a stranger (anymore) - but he actually won't tell you where he's going. "Like I said, we're going to the most beautiful view," is all he replies.

You've looked it up. According to Google, there are about fifteen lookouts. And each of them is supposed to be the "most beautiful view in Monaco," according to the websites. You looked up the locations on Google Maps, but none of them are in the direction you're heading. Maybe he's trying to kill you after all.

"I haven't driven a real stick shift car in ages." Charles wraps his big hand around the gearshift knob to shift into the next gear. His bracelets slide from his forearm to his wrist as he does so. Without much jerking and very smoothly, you move forward.

You raise an eyebrow. "So you only drive automatic cars?"

Charles shakes his head. "My personal car - the one that's at my other apartment - is an automatic. The company car I drive is manual." His hand moves from the shift knob back to the steering wheel. His long fingers grip the worn, dark leather.

"So what do you prefer to drive?"

He shrugs. "I like both."

You purse your lips and look out the window. You drive past small boutiques whose clothes you could never afford, and see cars whose insurance per month is sure to exceed your former annual salary. But this is nothing new to you. This is Monaco, after all. "I've never driven an automatic car before."

Charles glances over at you for a moment. "Really?" You shake your head. "It's kind of like riding a bumper car. Two pedals, gas and brake." He has to grin. "But if you ever drive automatic, please don't crash into other road users."

"Haha."

Charles drives the car out of town. The view out the window changes from old houses, whose architecture enchants you every time, to rocks and trees. By now, a quiet song is playing on the radio, Charles has stopped whistling, and somehow you're enjoying sitting here, next to your roommate, who wants to show you new, exciting things.

It's been ages since you've been introduced to something completely new.

The brunette turns off the main road onto a path that you would have missed yourself. It's not paved, which is why the car jolts quite a bit as you drive along. Trees and bushes line the path, and it is so narrow that it would be quite difficult if another car were to come towards you. If you were driving, you would have peed your pants for sure.

But not Charles. He drives as if he were driving this route every day. He knows where there are big rocks that he has to drive around to avoid damaging your car - which wouldn't be so dramatic - and also where he has to countersteer to avoid driving over potholes deeper than the Mariana Trench.

When he stops after a few minutes, he turns off the car. Then he turns to you and takes off his sunglasses. "I know this place looks pretty shady, and I can understand if you don't trust me. But if you get out of here with me now, I promise you, you won't regret it." He pulls the key out of the ignition. "Unfortunately, we can't get any further here by car. That's why we have to continue on foot for a short while. If you want."

You took a leap of faith when you decided to drive here with him. And he didn't try to kill you last night. That's a big plus. And that's why you hold out your hand to him without giving it much thought. "As long as I can have the key."

A smile spreads across his face as he drops it into your hand. "Let's do it, then."

Charles wasn't lying - it's actually not a long walk. You walk side by side in silence, the key held tightly in your hand. There's not a whole lot of sunlight shining down on you through the trees, and you regret not taking a thicker jacket. You didn't expect it to be so cold in the shade.

And then you arrive. At the most beautiful view in Monaco.

You're standing on a small hill that can't be seen from the main road. There is a single tree here, which is why the sun can shine relentlessly on you despite the winter, warming the skin on your face. You take a few steps forward, not realizing that Charles is not following you as you take in the view.

From here, from this beautiful spot, you can actually overlook all of Monaco. The houses, the yachts, the luxury for which this country is famous. But you don't only see the typical postcard Monaco. You also see the green of the forests, small blue bays of the Côte d'Azur, which you have never seen - neither in reality nor on the Internet - and the Mediterranean Sea, which stretches out in front of you and whose sound you can hear despite the distance.

You feel Charles next to you, but can't tear your gaze away from the view. "It's..." You can't think of a suitable word to describe what you're looking at. None of the million words, both in English and the few in French, would do it justice.

"I know." His voice rings softly in your ears. "Shall we sit down?"

You settle down near the tree. The meadow is dry - thank goodness - as you sit down cross-legged, facing each other. For a few minutes, you enjoy the view in silence until Charles interrupts.

"My father showed me this spot when I was little." He plucks a few tufts of grass from the ground. "He liked to come down here when the world down there" - with a nod of his head, he points to beautiful Monaco - "got too stressful for him. Or too noisy. Or just too much." He smiles faintly. "With three young sons who liked to mess with each other, I can't blame him."

You watch as he grinds a few blades of grass between his index finger and thumb until they trickle down in small pieces. "Then he's lucky you're all grown up now."

Charles lips pucker into a thin line and he lets the remaining grass fall to the ground. He folds his hands in his lap and looks toward Monaco. Even though he has his sunglasses on, you can see he closes his eyes. He takes a deep breath. "My father died when I was nineteen."

You don't know how to respond. You're glad Charles keeps talking. "Aside from my mother, he was the best and kindest person I know. He saw something good in everyone, even if they didn't deserve it. He..." Charles swallows the lump in his throat. "He always pushed me to be better, but always brought me back down to earth when I took off. He was never disappointed in me, ever."

You have to smile. "Sounds like a wonderful man."

Charles nods. "He was." He looks back down at his hands. "I miss him every day."

It's strange to hear someone talk about their parents like that when your own are the complete opposite. You can't remember your parents ever being proud of you. Their disappointment and criticism were your constant companions, which is why you couldn't wait to finally move out. And you haven't looked back since.

"I like to come here when I'm stuck. When I'm stuck in a situation where I wish I could ask him for advice. Or I'm feeling lonely." A faint smile returned to his face. "I may not get an answer here, but somehow - I don't know - I don't feel quite so alone anymore when I'm here."

You don't know what to say to him. You've known each other for less than twenty-four hours, were at each other's throats yesterday, and yet he's confided something so intangibly private to you, while you've been nothing but skeptical of him. Charles has revealed himself to you, laid bare some of his cards, made himself vulnerable. And he did so without much hesitation.

"You don't have to tell me who called you. Or whatever that person screwed up. But if you need to talk to someone, I'm here for you." He takes the sunglasses off his nose so he can really look at you, and hangs them on the collar of his sweater. The green of the woods behind you is beautiful, but nothing can compete with the green of his eyes. "That's what friends are for, after all."

You have to smile. "Are we?" You point your index finger at the distance between you. "Friends?"

You feel your question is justified. After all, your "friends" dropped you after ... after everything that happened.

Charles shrugs. "If that's what you want. After all, we live together. Of course, I don't want to force you into it, nor could I. You'd sooner smack me with a rolled-up magazine. I just think it's almost impossible for us not to become friends."

He is right. The apartment is not very big and there is no way you could avoid each other. Especially since you don't have any obligations anymore, no job to go to every day. You'll be hanging out at home all the time and you'll definitely spend all your time next to each other, as long as Charles has nothing to do either.

That you two will become friends is inevitable.

One look at Charles and you'll throw all worries out the window. Charles, who lets you live in his apartment. Charles, who lets you have the bedroom. Charles, who can cook incredibly well. And Charles, who takes you to the most beautiful place, even though it means so much to him.

He looks at you in surprise as you pull the car key out of your jacket pocket and toss it to him. Surprised, he catches it. "I guess I won't need to lock the bedroom door then, will I?"

Charles grins. "I promise not to kill you while you're sleeping." With his index finger, he makes a cross over where his heart beats in his chest. "I might try it when you're awake, though." He winks at you.

Your grin widens. "Luckily, there are still some magazines lying around at home that I can use to defend myself. Just please don't do it when I'm only wearing a towel. That would be an unfair fight."

Charles laughs. He laughs even though he has just expressed one of his deepest feelings and this place reminds him of someone he loved and lost. Even though he's poured his heart out to you. And yet he's sitting there, cross-legged, in front of you, and he's got his head thrown back and he's laughing so loud you're afraid he can be heard all the way to Monte-Carlo.

And good heavens - it's the most beautiful sound you've heard in a long time.

For a moment longer, you enjoy the moment. Despite the call and Charles past, a lightness has spread through you that you haven't felt in ages. The worries have not fallen off your shoulders, but they are no longer so heavy and you would like to thank Charles for that. But as soon as you can open your mouth, he's on his feet in front of you again, looking down at you.

"I didn't promise you too much, did I?" Confused, you look at him. "I mean, about the view."

You shake your head and stand up as well. Side by side, you gaze down at Monaco. "It's the perfect postcard view."

Charles watches you while you take some photos with your camera. You try to take a good picture from every angle, from every position, and as far as you can tell from the small display, some of the shots don't turn out too badly. When you turn around, Charles is standing right behind you.

"If you need another model," he puts his hands on his hips, "I'll volunteer."

You laugh. "Absolutely not. Or I'll get a crack in the lens."

He pushes his bottom lip forward and pouts. "Okay, wow. I'm going to take that personally. Then don't." He's about to turn away from you when you manage to grab the sleeve of his sweater. He glances briefly at where your fingers are gripping the fabric, and unsure, you let go.

"All right. One photo." You raise your camera. Charles tries to get a decent stance, puts his hands in his pockets, then decides against it, crosses his arms in front of his chest, drops them again, runs his hands through his hair. "You'll have to stand in style for me to take a decent picture."

A slight blush creeps onto his cheeks. "What exactly do you want me to do? What would you like?"

You smile at him. "Relax. This isn't a professional shoot, after all." You lower the camera again. "You said you have two brothers. What's the funniest thing you've been through together?"

Charles thinks for a moment and starts to grin. As he tells you about a Christmas when Arthur had been in charge of dessert but unfortunately switched sugar for salt, making the food inedible, you snap a photo of him. His smile is wide, a dimple adorns his cheek, and the wind ruffles his hair. You don't need to snap another. This picture is perfect.

" ... And then we went to McDonalds in the middle of the night to get ice cream," he finishes his story. He looks up. "Did you take a picture? I didn't even notice!" He stands close to you so he can see the camera's display. His perfume hits your nose. "Oh my God." He takes a step away from you, his grin wide. "I've never looked so good. Can you send this to me?"

The walk to the car takes longer than the walk there, in no small part because you don't really want to leave. You memorize every single step so you can find Monaco's most beautiful view again.

"Thank you for bringing me here."

He looks up from his feet and over at you. "I've never brought anyone here before." He smiles gently. "But somehow I felt like you needed this. To be away from it all for once."

"I appreciate that very much. I promise I won't tell anyone about this." You draw a cross with your index finger where your heart beats. Just like he just did. You know how much this place means to him. Never in your life would you bring anyone else here.

Your car comes into your field of vision. In a moment you would drive back home and everything you successfully repressed until just now would be waiting for you there. But it still can't spoil your mood. Not after the beautiful morning.

You hear Charles inhale to say something when suddenly his phone rings. Annoyed, he pulls it out of his pocket and looks at the screen before tossing you the car keys. You almost drop them on the floor. "I need to make a quick call." His voice tone is cold, definitely not as warm and mellow as it was just a few minutes ago. "Go ahead and get in the car. I'll be right behind you."

You nod to him and walk the few feet. You catch the beginning of the conversation anyway.

"Nous en avons déjà parlé. Je t'ai dit que je ne rentrerais pas chez moi pour le moment. Non, écoute, je n'ai ni le temps ni les nerfs pour en parler avec toi. Je suis en déplacement en ce moment. Cela ne te concerne pas". coming home – discuss – not your business

You unlock the car and plant yourself in the passenger seat, which, unlike a moment ago, no longer feels too wrong. While you can no longer understand what Charles is saying, judging by his facial expressions and gestures, it's definitely not a pleasant conversation. His face is flushed and he runs his hand through his hair several times before rolling his eyes.

When his gaze catches yours, you feel caught. As if you're watching him do something private that's none of your business. And for a moment you think that Charles is annoyed, telling you to do something other than watch him. But he just tilts his head and smiles softly before raising a finger in the air with his free hand. His mouth moves and it looks like "One minute" and some French word you can't make out by lip-reading.

You also answer him with a smile and look at the photo on the camera again. It's a little blurry and definitely not your best work, but it was taken from a beautiful moment and is one of your favorite pictures for that alone.

"Sorry." You barely notice Charles sitting down next to you in the car.

You drop the key into his open hand and look at him with concern. "Are you okay?"

He breathes in and out before putting the key in the ignition and letting the engine rev. He doesn't give you an answer to your question, but starts a new topic. "We're going to see Joris. I'd love to know how he got the idea to rent out the apartment without discussing it first." He doesn't smile, but his voice is no longer so callous. You just nod.

The situation is tense, and there's nothing you can do to defuse it except sit quietly and let Charles feel his feelings without judging him. You'd like to reach for his hand and squeeze it so he knows he's not alone. But you don't dare. The look on his face when you just touched his sweater-not even Charles per se-and the thought that you might be crossing a line burns into your brain.

You interlace your fingers in your lap and look out the window.

Of course, you don't notice that Charles' gaze briefly falls on your hands and that he wishes he could take yours in his for a little comfort.

next part

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc prompt #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x female reader #Charles Leclerc one shot #Charles Leclerc angst #Charles Leclerc fanfiction #charles leclerc x reader #Carlos Sainz jr

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bearzflu · 21 days ago

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✦ relationship with members ✦ (hyung line)

enha 8th member navi

✦ HEESEUNG ✦

he is like the big brother she never had

their relationship is so warm and soft hearted, every time she needs someone to depend on, heeseung is always there

you will never see these two fighting (im being serious) heeseung legit refuses to raise his voice at her

#minsi's protector squad no.1, he is there 24/7 to make sure minsi is always safe and sound

oh no minsi tripped? heeseung is there to give her a piggyback ride all the way back to their dorm, no way! minsi had her knee scraped? heeseung will 100% be there with 3 different first aid kits to make sure her precious knee is all good

"are we missing someone?" "wait where did minsi go?" heeseung is running all the way back to the convenience store to get you back safely ☺️

✦ JAY ✦

he is her sugar daddy

no kidding, he literally spends half his money on her

one of the reasons why minsi refuses to go shopping with him because he will end up getting her literally everything she sets eyes on 😐

"jay are you serious i glanced at that dress for maybe one second" "that means you liked it right?"

lovesss cooking for her, breakfast lunch dinner, everything is set up for her the minute she wakes up

#minsi's protector squad no.2, you will never see him go against her as in his perspective she is always right

you can be arguing about the most stupid shit with the other members and he will be there to back you upp! it is very serious for him.

"but jay minsi literally ate all my leftover pizza slices that i saved up for MYSELF" "ok but she must've been really hungry, did you want her to starve?"

✦ JAKE ✦

definition of soulmates

always seen stuck together and have gone viral multiple times for being the most clingiest ship out of the group

jake ADORES minsi and is always seen with a stupid smile on his face whenever he sees her face

he has her face on his lockscreen and is seen calling her 'sunshine' as a nickname

you could also see them as the cat and dog duo, but in this case they're both equally hyper

minsi often goes to jake when she just needs to chill or eat out for dinner, they also often go out together for shopping and give each other fashion advice

"hey why is jake smiling like that? its creepy, his mouth is gonna fall off" "hes watching minsi's latest fancam"

✦ SUNGHOON ✦

the first romantic couple out of the bunch

enemies to lovers type beat!

he loathed her during trainee days and so did she

they were always comparing themselves to each other as they both though the other one was better (stupid fools!)

sunghoon and minsi are the ones that argued he most you could say, even throwing around hurtful words "you're never gonna debut minsi just give it up, did you see how sloppy you looked?"

sunghoon realized it a little too late that minsi was struggling just as much as him, seeing her collapsed on the practice room broke his heart into regret

they both apologized and become one of the strongest relationship in the group

they are veryyyy private and fans miss almost all of their hidden hand holds under the table at a fan sign event or the very quick pecks at the waiting room when a member is vlogging

#minsi's protector squad no.3, you could say he's the most protective of them all

always covering her up, giving her his jacket and making sure no one's looking at her with a perverted look

"how does this skirt look hoon" "it will look better with my leather jacket on your waist princess"

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lazyneonrabbitt · 9 months ago

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Rough times.

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Requested: Hi! Would you be willing to maybe do a one shot with Daryl x reader in a pre established relationship but the reader is pregnant with a child that doesn't belong to him and she isn't proud of? (non-con if you're comfortable with that) Some angst about the reader being worried he won't love her once he finds out 👀

Warning: Non-con, unwanted pregnancy, some angst but happy ending.

What you had with Daryl started early on at the quarry. You were one of the few who didn't look at the Dixons with disgust and actually appreciatwd their hunting efforts and looked past the less than pleasant habits the older brother had.

After Daryl returned injured from his search for Sophia, you were his primary caretaker seeing he was calmest around you. By the time he got back to good health you were officially boyfriend and girlfriend.

Only you two knew, no one else really noticed much of a difference seeing you still slept in your own tents and never kissed. You were both too new to relationships and seeing Daryl needed to get used to being no longer on his own you agreed to let it all take as long as it needed.

When you arrived at the prison and cleared it enough to call home you shared a cell. Well, you slept in the cell in front of where Daryl laid out his matres and he used your cell to change and store his items.

By now you ate breakfast together and paired up on guard shifts. You were always at the gate to welcome him back after hunts and eventually he's always stick around after bringing you the meat at the outside kitchen after taking in the woodbury folks.

Yet still you were at loving smiles and shoulder touches, sometimes the short hug goodnight.

It was only the night before the prison fell you shared your first kiss.

And then you were on your own.

The Governor attacked and ended any posibility of returning to the prison and all you heard between the chaos was "RUN!" so you ran. You ran like crazy until you couldn't anymore and realized how screwed you were without your group.

It wasn't long before you were starving and tired, swaying in your walk to a point of not even noticing the men approaching you and catching you mid fall until you were in his arms. Your vision faded and you were out cold, not catching the man's words.

"Claimed."

When you woke up you were in a warehouse with a bunch of strange men and your guts told you to run. Run and find Daryl, or anyone from your group. Except you never made it far seeing they had plans for you.

One of them came to fetch you, held your wrists together behind your back and held you out for the others to stare. Then they started to offer things to the one holding you. Crazy stuff like weapons and food rations that would last a single person a week easily. The whole situation just kept getting worse and worse up to the point of you learning they were offering trades.

Trades of material worth to get time with you. And each trade was accepted and ranked from best to worst.

Ranked in what order they got to fuck you after the one who claimed you had finished.

You couldn't remember when or how long you were passed out when you were woken up by your owner, telling you to dress for a little trip.

He took you to a house not far from their warehouse spot and while he sounded kind and offered you food he only brought you there for some private one on one time..

You tried to stay strong, keeping faith in the fact that Daryl would find you and suffer theough this with the least possible resistance.

Lucky for you the house wasn't empty and just when your captor was going to make amove he was downed by no one else than Rick.

You cried the second he came into view. Letting it all out and dropping to your knees, clamped to his leg you sobbed inyo thr fabric of his pants. And he let you. He gave you the time to let it all out and calm down before he helped you up and took you downstairs to see Carl and soon out of the home to be back on the road.

Three days passed on the road with your refound group before your nightmares turn real when the group of men who assaulted you catch up and threaten to kill Rick and then the rest of you too.

Eyes wide you stared at the leader talk to Rick, no longer catching a single word when your eyes found him

Daryl.

Why was he with them?

Your surroundings blurred and sounds drowned out when the panic set in. Curled into yourself you only heard close gunshots and the accompanied loud ringing until a hamd rested on your shoulder where you sat against the side of a car.

"Y'alrigh?" Daryl's voice made you jump, sitting upright and throwing your full body against him, only to repeat the full crying session from inside the house again but this time against the leather of your boyfriend's vest.

Time passed and it seemed like you and Daryl were back on square one. Daryl blamed it on the trauma of having to flee the prison in the way it happened, but the truth was you still hadn't told him about your time apart.

You lost track of your days after your time with the group Daryl called the Claimers, not thinking about the whole situation much anymore until your third day in a row started with you puking up anything that hadn't been digested entirely yet.

The first two days you blamed the canned food and maybe undercooked meat but now you were hunched over at the side of the road when the harsh reality set in. This was in no way or shape a positive thing. Not after losing Lori in the way you did. Not because you were still without a more permanent home and even less because it wasn't Daryl who caused it. You hadn't been able to tell him what happened to you and you were out of time to prepare for the conversation.

You sat crouched and stared dead into the woods, trying your hardest to focus on a single leaf until your breathing was back to normal but your mind was too loud.

Your stomach emptied itself even further over the forest floor as sobs racked your whole body. You shivered as a cold sweat broke out. You and Daryl were already on worse terms than before the prison fell with being in survival mode constantly, there was no time to fhink about improving your relationship right now.

With your arms clutched around yourself you heaved as your stomach had nothing left to and your entire body hurt with every sob that left your lips.

"Hey," Daryl's voice and his hand on your shoulder had you freeze in panic. "Y'alrigh?"

It was now or never, forcing your head to shake. "No.." Your voice was barely above a whisper, and Daryl crouched down next to you to investigate. Your mind screamed at hou to lie. Fake being just ill and keep his mind on surviving for a while longer but your heart knew it was wrong.

You had already been lying to him for so long by not telling him immediately and you started to feel like it would be the proper punishment to be alone in this after you told him.

"I think I'm pregnant."

Instead of an answer Daryl was up and pacing at the edge of the road. You both knew it wasn't his and without hearing your side of story his mind went to every possible scenario that made him want to walk off and keep going until his legs gave out but you were still his partner. The teo of you might not have acted like it for a while but it was still true and he never forgot that.

He stopped at your side and leaned against a tree. "Talk.. please." He huffed the last word after seconds of silence, he needed to tone down the anger that came too natural to him.

You fell back on your ass and wiped your face on the bottom half of your sweater before steading your breaths and talking Daryl through the happenings of your time apart. The strange men, their deal that ended in the most traumatic night of your life and the trip to the house where Rick saved you and reuniting with Carl and Michonne up to where you met again.

When you finished your recollection of events you couldn't make yourself look up at Daryl. You felt like the worst person in exsistence for lying to him and it got only worse when he announced he needed some time and left.

You spent the days in the back of the RV, unsure if you should stay in this relationship and have Daryl raise a kid that wasn't his. Secretly you begged this world not giving you enough to have it survive long enough and go through the physical suffering of losing it but keep the man you loved.

Were you going to be okay, raising a child that that came into the world like this? Were you goinf to be okay dealing with a living, breathing reminder of what happened? Would Daryl?

You let this happen. You should have kept walking even if it killed you.

Daryl kept his word and hadn't been near you for a while. His time spent not hunting was filled with talking down at himself.

He let that happen. He should have been at your side. He should be at your side but he wasn't sure how he'd manage. He couldn't even go find the one who did it to you and make sure he suffered as much as you did since that whole group was dead by now.

The thought of you in such a situation almost cost him his life, the anger causing him to miss a walker on the ground under some leaves as it snapped at his leg and missed by a hair.

He took it out and stalked back to the group who by now lost their vehicles and had to travel on foot.the group knew about Daryl's anger and his inability to close off that part in a healty way. They knew of your doubts, your secret wishes and especially now traveling on foot they saw your tiredness, your sadness.

You spent all your time apart. Both unable to word the things in your minds as you ate dogmeat, got caught in a much needed rainstorm and hid in a barn where you were found by a stranger who claimed to have a community that would house you all.

A Whole month had passed after the horrible events and now you laid down in the community's infirmary, being examined after all the women of your group had dragged you into the room to be looked after and get needed supplements. The appointment made everything you still tried to deny true and you were sent back to your group with medication, vitamins and a sad heart.

Daryl watched how the women swarmed you and felt like the biggest asshole for not doing what they did. He should be there with you to comfort you about all of this. To tell you he'd make it all work as long as you two did it together. But why wasn't his body moving as he told himself this?

It was Rick's hand on his shoulder that pulled Daryl from his own mind back into reality. He was pulled up and taken along in the direction where you rested on the couch. Carol saw them and ushered the others aside, making sure Daryl had a place to sit beside you as Rick set him down and the others walked off.

"Hey," his voice was soft, barely above a whisper. Even throigh your own still twisted nerves you could feel his and welcomed him into your space with a smile. He came to you and didn't run as soon as Rick's hands were off him, he stayed on his own.

"S'good fer ya ta hav'a roof over yer head now." He was fidgeting with loose ends on his clothes, hoping his words made sense.

"Yeah, you're right.." You should tell him. You have to tell him.

"You know you don't have to stick around, right? It's not your kid, not your problem." The words hurt coming out of your mouth, and they hurt reaching Daryl's ears.

He may not have shown it, solely because he didn't know how, but he loved you. "I ain't lettin' ya do this on yer own." You heard his spoken words and knew they translated to more. More that Daryl had a difficulty saying out loud.

It was moments like this you thanked not needing many words to understand each other. It was one of the things that attracted the two of you in the beginning after all.

Daryl wasn't going to leave you over this. He was willing to do this with you and it took a huge weight off your chest. It was going to take a while but you were going to be okay, the three of you.

When the group fully settled in their homes and everyone was welcomed into the community you spent a lot of time in the garage with Daryl. He wanted to keep an eye on you as the baby grew, but he still needed to get work done so he had set up a corner for you to lounge and read books in. He's catch you staring his way more often than not, but it didn't bother him if it was you.

"Denise came ta drop these off for ya." Daryl walked into the bathroom where you were soaking in the tub. He placed your refill pharmacy order on the counter and came to kiss your forehead, admiring your bump for a moment before retreating into the bedroom to lay down and wait for you to call for assistance.. You were okay with you being nude these days, although Daryl still preferred to have his upper body covered and slept in an old ratty shirt.

Daryl sat on his knees next to the bed, he held your hand, your thigh, the towels when Denise instructed him to do so. He was everywhere to make sure you were comfortable and cried the second the baby made a sound and cheers went around the room.

He watched as the women cleaned the baby girl and laid her down on your chest. He had moved from side to side, feeling like he was in the way of all the moving people that assisted in helping your child into the world but was assured he was exactly where he needed to be for now, up till Denise gave him new instructions after a while of him doing nothing but stare and admire.

Sniffling he made his way to the other side of the bed on the doc's orders and scooted against your shoulder.

His hands were shaking since the second Denise told him to go lay down and take off his shirt. He thanked himself for wearing a button down as he kept his back against the pillows and undid the buttons to only shove aside the front of his shirt so it hung off his shoulders.

This time it was Carol who came to help, showing the new parents how to hold and handle theit newborn as she took her from mom's chest and placed her on dad's.

~~☆☆☆~~

A/N: Okay this one took me out. I'm sorry it took so long!!

#sometimes I write #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon fanfiction #twd #the walking dead #twd daryl

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97keanu · 11 months ago

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Valentine’s Day with the Keanuverse <3

John Wick: John would def start your day with breakfast in bed, and he is a wonderful cook, making everything you like and presenting it perfectly. He may take this time to give you a back massage while you enjoy your morning coffee, anything he can do to make you feel relaxed. Depending on the vibes of the day, he may have a lot planned out, like a surprise trip to your favorite destination, a spa day, dinner reservations, buying out a movie theatre just for the two of you(he loves if he can have you all to himself!). He may also opt for staying in, making you lunch, dinner, anything he can do to make your life perfect today(my boy’s love language is acts of service!). He will likely end the night with you in a bubble bath, enjoying each other’s company over an expensive glass of champagne, he’s not even afraid to do a face mask with you and really find some time to relax after everything. He is not letting ANYTHING come between you and him enjoying yourselves today. You end the night in bed with John lavishing your body with his hands, mouth, and whatever else he can to completely please you.

Types of presents include: Trips, cars, anything you want that he could ‘know a guy’ and make happen(remember that concert you really wanted that sold out?), spa day packages, handcrafted(but John is like, really good at it. Perhaps he tracks down one of your favorite childhood stories and restores the book for you!), shopping trips, homemade meals, anything you ask him for!

John Constantine: Let’s be honest, he probably forgot about Valentine’s Day, and is trying to work something out last minute. He’s running to the store to try to get flowers, but they’re already out, so he’s out doing something crazy like stealing from some poor soul’s grave. He’s trying to remember any hints you gave for what you wanted and barely remembering what your favorite candy is, which he luckily obtains. He calls up every restaurant in the city but all he gets is laughs when he tries. To make a reservation. Constantine is sooo disorganized for this, but the pressure hits him last minute because as much as he can be a callous asshole, he can’t have you thinking he thought you don’t deserve anything for Valentine’s Day. He finally finds somewhere that will let him buy takeout, and he takes home a bounty of last minute gifts and decor to his apartment where he quickly tries to plate the food and pass it off as his own.

In the end, after he picks you up and takes you back to his place, you enter to find his apartment set a glow with candles, soft music playing on his old busted CD player, and the smell of your favorite takeout. You are certain when you see the scene that he scrounged all this together, but at the same time, he looks at you with those dark puppy eyes, and you can’t help but be glad he remembered at all and tried. He gives you his slightly wilting bouquet of yellow and white flowers (claiming they were all out of red, but you suspect differently.) and you two have a lovely meal and a night in with some of your favorite feel good movies that Constantine would typically never sit down to watch with you. Even if it all seems small, you enjoy having some genuine time with him, and even getting to see him laugh and claim not to be teary eyed at some of the sappy scenes of the movie.

Types of presents include: Handmade, experience style gifts (perhaps taking you to his favorite secret spots!), flowers, all your favorite candies(that he could remember), maybe a chance to finally get to see his softer side.

Kevin Lomax: He’s going all out, he’s starting your day by sending breakfast to your door (all of your favorites of course!), sending dozens of flowers to your office just to make all the other girls jealous, sending a private car to pick you up too and from work, and leaving designer dress options and shoes in our bedroom for when you come home from work. You choose the dress you want to wear for the occasion, and your driver is taking you across town now to the fanciest restaurant in town. You meet him there, and Kevin looks absolutely dashing in his black suit and tie. He greets you with your first real gift for the night, a stunning piece of jewelry he knows you’ve been eyeing, then you two have a lovely dinner before going back to his apartment where you walk in to find the largest teddy bear you’ve ever seen holding more presents. He totally love bombs you for Valentine’s Day because giving gifts is on the top of his love languages, and you aren’t complaining. You two end the day in bed trying out some of the new toys he bought for the occasion.

Types of presents include: Perfumes, high end makeup, designer lingerie (for later of course), bondage gear (he loves making you his rope bunny <3), and anything you desire that money can buy. He may even surprise you with some heartfelt pillow talk when all is said and done.

Neo: Like Constantine, he is a bit forgetful of Valentine’s Day, but more in the sense of he has no idea what to get you and is absolutely horrible at deciding on a gift. He keeps trying to figure it out until it’s a week or two out and he’s found out he’s too late for reservations at all your favorite spots and on top of it there’s no way what he wanted to get you will ship in time, so he improvises. He sends flowers to your door and a note on where to meet him tonight. He doesn’t have much money so he hacks into wine and paint class via their online booking and you two end up having a great time trying to draw each other, despite his looking quite crude in form. He then takes you to a hotel reservation (that he also hacked his way into…) in the presidential suite, enjoying champagne and room service that is being charged to a card that doesn’t exist. You wonder how he got all this done, but you also know he has his ways, and don’t want to ruin the moment. You enjoy the room’s hot tub together while getting a little dirty trying to get clean. You have no idea how down to the wire he really was for making Valentine’s Day happen. He ends the night by gifting you a computer program that he made for you, and it’s awesome because it helps you with a daily task you’ve been irritated with. You two end up spending lovely quality time together, enjoying your time together and each other’s bodies no doubt!

Types of presents include: Handmade gifts, handcrafted technology (think: my boyfriend built me a computer!), hacked tech that would help in your everyday life, and he may even surprise you with something that you mentioned a long time ago(that he totally didn’t hack your search history to know about.)

Ted Logan: Ted is super sweet and caring for Valentine’s Day, surprisingly not forgetting that it exists in the first place. He ends up making you a handcrafted card and leaving it at your place of work with some hand picked daisies, all while saying it’s from a ‘secret admirer’ but Ted is the only person you know who would misspell ‘admirer’ in the first place. He doesn’t have a lot of money to get you anything fancy, but everything he does get you is heartfelt and well thought out. He picks you up after work and takes you to your favorite diner, then he finds the best spot in San Dimas to watch the stars together, tell jokes, and maybe even have a smoke sesh. You two end the night with munches being fulfilled by the nearby Circle K and a movie night at his apartment where he serenades you on his guitar between films. He buys all your favorite snacks for you and tries his best to make you feel really special. He is a words of affirmation guy so expect lots of sweet talk in your ear! He ends the night with his surprise gift, a locket with a picture of you two in it that he spent the last of his money on. He also gives you a handmade little notebook with all his favorite moments written in it with Polaroids of you two since you started dating!

Types of presents include: Handmade gifts(extremely arts and crafts, pink glitter glue ‘Will You Be My Valentine?’ Styled cards), your favorite candies, a small plush of some sort, picking wildflowers because he can’t afford the outrageous store prices, a song he wrote for you (performed alongside bill as his back up player), anything music related like making you a mixtape of your favorite tunes.

#john wick x reader #john Constantine x reader #neo x reader #Kevin lomax x reader #ted Logan x reader #my writing #my imagines

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giamee · 7 months ago

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CHAPTER XII! encore

<- prev masterlist next ->

GOING SHOPPING WAS A VERY WELCOME DISTRACTION from everything. leaving the guys after getting breakfast together, taking a bus into the busier marketplace, and perusing all the different items that mondstadt had to offer, you and layla were feeling properly satisfied.

in particular, the clothing stores had caught you and layla's eyes. the fashion was so different to sumeru's and you couldn't help but want to find some dresses and other clothes similar to what you saw the inhabitants of mondstadt wearing as they went about daily life.

layla knew a few specific brands- heard from a friend of a friend- that she dragged you along to, and you walked down the aisles together, scanning the racks of clothing. layla pauses to inspect a dress, a pretty blue one that would really complement her hair, before she turned to you conspiratorily.

"so, i knew that i said that we should ignore last night, but you and cyno, huh?"

you got flustered, gaze averting to another dress, a thick material that you thought would melt off of you during a sumeru summer.

"oh it's... yaknow."

"it didn't look like a yakno. looked a lot friendlier than that."

"you know how it is, layla. i mean, we broke up."

"and exes can't hook up?"

you looked up at her, shocked. she's smirking to herself, glancing at the dress' pricetag before grimacing and releasing it from her grip.

"i mean, hot girl summer, right?"

"and where was this energy when you were telling me to be careful, hm?" the girl simply shrugged, grinning at you elfishly.

"eh, fuck it. besides, i see the way you two look at each other. it's obvious that you two aren't over it."

"we are." your voice is quieter now, a fact that doesn't go unmissed by your friend.

"then maybe that's a conversation to have between you and him, yeah?" as if waiting for a cue, you and layla's phones both chimed, and you saw messages from the trip groupchat, as well as some unread ones from your inazuma friends. you'd fill them in later.

the place in question was a restaurant called the good hunter, one that albedo insisted was extremely popular with the locals. his recommendation proved to be right, too, judging by how busy it was around lunchtime. it was absolutely packed, the aroma of food making your mouth water as soon as you stepped in. you hadn't even realised just how hungry you were, but this was much appreciated.

albedo himself was nice enough, but there was something about him that reminded you a little too much of alhaitham for you liking. as for the man himself, he had arrived late, ending up wedged in one of the only seats left- right next to you.

the sheer volume of people talking in such a small place made this bustling restaurant... surprisingly private. albedo was seated at the other end of the table, telling your friends some story along with the help of kaveh's dramatic reenactment, and you could barely hear what the pair of them were saying.

and with everyone else's attention elsewhere, it was easy for alhaitham to scoot closer to you, leaning down so that his face is level with yours.

you don't pull away, but you eye the man warily. you never really knew what to expect with him, after all. his words and his actions told two different stories.

"so, you're getting back with cyno?"

you're glad that you weren't eating, otherwise you would have coughed everything out upon hearing that. you choke on your water, though, and you hate that alhaitham instinctively pats your back as you recover. his palms are warm against your bare skin, and you wish that you hadn't worn something that left you so exposed. you hated the fact that you found his touch soothing even more.

"who told you that?" you rasp out after finally catching your breath. his fingers linger against you a touch too long, and there's a flash of something akin to... remorse? in his eyes as he peels his hand away from your back. it feels cold without his touch.

"were you not... never mind then." you look at him, confused now. all of the mixed messages that he was throwing you in the past couple days was making your head spin.

"why the sudden interest? i thought you didn't like me." he looks confused now, more than anything, and in any other circumstance you would laugh at the way he gaped at you. it's a long few seconds before his head falls forward, his arms uncrossing to let his fingers pinch at the bridge of his nose oh-so delicately.

"i said to move on because i didn't want you or cyno to get hurt again."

"...oh."

"yes, oh."

"and not because you didn't like me?"

"...quite the opposite." alhaitham peeks up at you now, his expression uncertain, and you feel like you can finally read him. he sounded a lot softer now, the drone of everyone else in this restaurant fading away, and it felt like just the two of you again.

"then... why did you act like that yesterday?" his face scrunched up, a frown forming at your question.

"i don't know." disbelief was an emotion that you were beginning to strongly associate with alhaitham. "i thought that it wouldn't be right to tell you."

"but that didn't stop you from kissing me." he paused, looking away bashfully, before he meets your eyes again.

"that was an oversight on my part. it shouldn't have happened." the urge to rip your hair out was beginning to grow. instead, you laughed lowly, focusing your attention to the food on your plate. you really weren't hungry, but anything was better than looking at him right now.

"i'm sorry, y/n." you pick at the food on your plate with your fork, watching as it drops back down with a plop. "this won't end well, you'll both get your hearts broken again." you couldn't help but laugh at the stupidity of this entire situation.

"and what about yours, alhaitham? don't act like you're doing me such a favour by being a pussy." you spit out that last word with more venom than was probably necessary, if the way that alhaitham flinched away was any indicator. his mouth opened, and you watched him flounder for a little, but it was cut short by nilou calling your name from across the table.

you plaster what you hope is a convincing smile on your face, idly responding and ignoring the rising tide of emotions within you in favour of tuning in to the recollection of akademiya stories that your friends were relaying.

the rest of your time in the restaurant, greeting and saying goodbye to albedo, walking back to the hostel with your friends, felt like you were in some third person mode, the overbearing weight of alhaitham's inadverted confession leaving you well and truly stunned.

what now? he likes you but he's made it more than clear that he won't do anything about it. you're stuck between a rock and a hard place.

you find yourself staring down your reflection in the bathroom, once again having your inner thoughts consumed by the infuriating gray-haired man.

and like a severe case of deja vu, cyno slips into the bathroom the same time as you, his hip bumping against yours as he sidles up next to you.

"hey."

"hi." your voices sounds flat even to your ears, but cyno merely smiles at your greeting. he takes his precious moments to get his toothbrush, squeeze out some toothpaste onto it, before he turns to you- ever so casual, deliberately light tone.

"i don't have a movie to watch, but... would you want to sleep in my bed tonight?" you lock eyes with him through the mirror, those amber eyes boring into you, imploring you for an answer. cyno had always been good at that- wrangling some answer out of you that you didn't even know was there.

it's quiet, save for the water running from the tap as he wers his brush. it gives you time to think. temptation was not an ugly man- he had a sweet smile and a promise of familiarity, and you decided that that's what you needed right now.

"yeah, i'll get in after you." cyno beams, eyes crinkling with the intensity, and that's all that needs to be said for the rest of your time shared in the bathroom.

and then he's gone again, so quick that you have to reassure yourself that he was ever there at all, and you repeat the steps that he went through, washing your face, before turning to the door leading to all of the beds.

you really needed to update your friends about this. but it could wait.

✦ ⠂⠂୨୧ trivia :: despite majoring in chemistry and not architecture, albedo was able to increase kaveh's grades to solid a's while tutoring him

✦ ⠂⠂୨୧ gia's notes :: uhm. i don't have anything to yap about for once lol. my stomach hurts. ooh i know what to say cyno fuckers lovers yall are in for a TREAT next chapter 🙈 now give me one billion gajillion notes or i wont post it 🔫 also the haitham drama is over (?) now yay!!! he's emotionally constipated and rationalises his feelings away ok guys everybody makes mistakes 😞

✦ ⠂⠂୨୧ taglist :: @makimakimi @aeongiies @sukunasrealgf @ssoliva @sakiimeo @eggn0gcookie @yxcade @fiona782 @heartswonder @eunchaeluvr @clumsyphuq @pinksodacan @aelxr @themusingsofmany @obervation-subject-753 @kittycasie @aimno256 @maxineshearts @mafuyuslover @meigalaxy @mintydump @v4lerixxq @artwitchh @geo-hew-hew @imkaaayy @c4tsfr0mh3ll @kokoscutie @erzarq @eu-la @ddiluc @ichikaisflowers @rahhhmen @esmetrees @rain-and-a-nice-nap @g8mmaaa @wuthering-seas

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tmblrcolouredpaper · 4 months ago

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Clothes with TXT

OT5 TXT; 5 scenarios member/ reader wc: 1178

🧸 Yeonjun

he'd get matching underwear with you.

In general he'd be a sucker for clever matching outfits, but nothing would beat wearing the same design of underwear during a night in together with you.

lounging around only in briefs, he'd melt seeing you appearing with the same minimal amount of fabric on your body.

when lying down with you, are close, thin fabric on thin fabric and the rest of touch being directly skin on skin, he wouldn't be able to avoid glancing down, seeing his sensitive parts matching yours with such conscious intention.

it's not just matching colors or minimalistic designs, he'd feel so much giddy joy seeing some cute designs facing each other, maybe beige underwear with cute little bears on them or silly ducks.

his favorite would logically be pandas.

when you're outside, wearing completely different genres of clothes, secretly only underwear matching, he'd feel so proud, smirking at the privat coordination of life, the intimate moment of getting ready together precious to him.

and when it's not a mutual decision, but a coincidence that he discovers when you find your way back to another at night, stripping down to take a shower, he'd throw himself at you with the happiest hug. He just loves finding familiarity in you.

shopping trips include getting matching underwear. To people's entertainment, you'd probably stand there arguing while holding up random pairs of panties. It doesn't matter what section you're in, men's clothes, women's clothes, who cares. You just want to find the cutest little piece of fabric to add to your collection.

🧸 Soobin

he's such a winter inspiration to me, so I think of scarfs, gloves, and any warm fuzzy clothes.

he'd wrap you up, put a huge scarf around your neck, carefully put gloves on your painfully freezing hands after he tries warming them with his breath.

at home, he'd have a large collection of fuzzy socks for you, cute designs and pinterest-y overknee pairs.

he'd put them on you, pulling them up slowly and once having your feet warm, he'd pull your legs into his lap caressing the soft fabric in such a manner that you could just fall asleep like that.

especially during stormy winter nights, he'd have you in only a shirt, underwear and overknee socks in his bed beside him. With one arm he'd hold you close and with his free hand, he'd have his palm run up and down your dressed leg to warm and calm you.

when he's in a playful mood, he'd tuck on the hem of your socks, pulling them up and down, tickling you oh so lightly until you get a bit annoyed at him, because it also means you'd be shifting more of your attention to him.

🧸 Beomgyu

matching accessories. Only both of you already wearing a cap when going out together, he'd find it so cool.

For fancy dinner dates, he'd enjoy matching belts or both of you wearing a tie.

It doesn't have to be cute or a huge sign of connection, he'd just enjoy feeling good in his clothes and having you match his energy. It gives him an ego boost, assures him of himself and his taste, that he is someone who can be seen as orientation and some sort of role model.

Having you maybe exploring your style with his in mind, would make him grow more curious of his own possibilities, too.

It's just fun for him.

In a more domestic realm, he'd love seeing you wearing matching slippers. You'd just buy a 2 for 1 set. It's practical and lets him feel like he's truly living life together with you.

On more serious occasions he'd aim for jewelry, bracelets or necklaces with matching charms, little engravings, such as each one half of a sentence.

On dates he'd love handcrafting colorful pieces with you, bold pearls and cotton candy coloured strings braided into memories of carefree moments with you. They're his lucky charms and he feels even luckier when he sees you wearing them with the same enthusiasm.

🧸 Taehyun

simple, yet impactful having-you-wear-his-shirt-type-of-guy

whether it's at home or outside, he loves seeing how you make his clothes look like.

he lets you pick shirts for him, having in mind that you would wear them, too.

sometimes you like to mess with him, suggesting shirts you know he wouldn’t like, silly ones, immensely cute ones or extravagant shirts with attached bows. He’d sigh, shake his head, but go back to the store by himself from time to time to get the shirt, having you find it in his closet.

he’d go full out when you ask him to give you a private fashion show, throwing all his silly poses into the room, gifting the pieces of fabric a whiff of his energy that makes you giggle whenever you wear the shirts.

when it’s about his personal favorite shirts he’s be a bit reluctant at first, but when he sees you treating them with such care, not eating in them to keep them stain free, wearing them truly when you need to be just a bit closer to him, making the feeling of having company in life more present, he’d gently help you get dressed in his clothes.

he’d have his hands linger on you, smoothing out the fabric on your body, automatically caressing in a calming manner.

all of it is just something that would happen alongside daily happenings. It’s nothing deeply thought through, but casual joyful endearments between you.

🧸 Kai

would throw his hoodie at you.

his main intention not being that it's cute, but that it's simply practical.

Why would you buy hoodies and such, when he could open his own store with the amount of pieces he has?

however, once you start returning them to him, one by one, with your scent on them, he'd start melting, adoring the routine he carelessly introduced.

giggly, kicking his feet, falling asleep in them, wearing them in situations that stress him out, make him feel anxious, he'd start relying on shared clothes.

some hoodies become destined to be your clothes of sadness, catching his and your silent tears. Whenever he finds a wettened hoodie you were currently wearing discarded on your bed, he'd search for you to hold you.

when he silently drowns his sadness in the mixture of his hoodie and your scent, you'd know when he throws it into the washing machine.

hoodies become a way of communicating hard feelings with another.

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆ ˚｡ 🧸⋆୨☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★୧⋆ ˚｡ 🧸⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★୧⋆ ˚｡ 🧸⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆🧸If you enjoyed reading this, you might also like:

🧸Sleepy Scenarios with TXT

🧸You Are Changing with TXT

🧸When TXT is making you comfortable

🧸When TXT is having a secret crush on you (sleepy scenarios)

🧸Holding Hands with TXT

#tomorrow x together fluff #tomorrow x together #txt fluff #txt sfw #txt imagines #txt scenarios #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun fluff #choi soobin fluff #soobin x reader #beomgyu fluff #beomgyu x reader #taehyun fluff #taehyun x reader #huening kai x reader #huening Kai fluff

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bloodyinkandquill · 2 months ago

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Rocket and sibling Reader

ok it is a full week since i last worked on any of these, lets try and get like three done and post them all, we got rocket and singling reader first coolio, ok technically we have shuriken x knife reader then toxic yuri reader x scythe but i have no clue what to do for the shuriken x knife reader imma reach out to the requester if they didn’t request on anon and ill do the scythe after this because i kin rocket so i wanna do this first, even if i self ship with scythe

- Even if Pokémon doesn’t exist in the world of Phighting you and your brother are straight up Team Rocket Jessie and James, one of you spawned, hung around the spawn building for a little while when suddenly ‘you have a sibling here you go’

haven’t worked on this since the 21st it’s the 15th now, ok let’s do this shit i’ve got kesha playing for motivation it’s only 10:30 i got this… let me read his wiki real quick so this is as accurate as possible, alright let’s do this, chappell roan decided to play but im not complaining about good luck babe

- Even thought one of you is older by a few months, maybe a year at most, you just decide to say you’re twins, sharing a spawn day even if legally that is not your spawning day, while still in the spawn building’s care you get each other a small but heartfelt gift, either stolen, bought with stolen money, or hand made, you both kept every gift

- You both had explosive and dangerous gears, and with how violent Playground is you both end up angry and in a lot of fights, but the only demon either of you let your guard down around is each other, dressing the others knuckles with stolen gauze as they either boast about the fight they just won or grumble that they didn’t even try

- Since unless you’re both in private you don’t let your guards down if either of you wanna discretely say ‘I’m here’ you softly bump horns, almost in a pavlovian fashion both of you instantly calm down some

- You two only really had each other so you both were very clingy to each other, falling asleep in whatever shelter you could cuddling to conserve warmth, and it makes it easier to protect each other in case someone stumbles upon you two, usually thought you would take turns sleeping and the other would keep watch, Playground is fucking dangerous so neither of you felt too comfortable both sleeping at the same time, especially when you had no home, just abandoned buildings or dark forgotten alleyways

- Rocket is a bit more reckless than you, so you on probably four, maybe five separate occasions had to grab him and book it, a wrongly timed and placed rocket and people were chasing you wanting you dead, he’d laugh maniacally and you would join him, once you two were somewhere safe that is, but if you got hurt because of him he’d feel like shit, if it was bad he might even cry and beg for you to forgive him, but you could never stay mad at your brother, after all you only had each other

- When the incident happened that cost him an arm and a leg you weren’t spared, coming out with your own bad injuries too, you both knew, you had to get out of this place, it was too dangerous and you couldn’t loose each other, so you left once and for all, vowing to never come back

- -Skip to after Zuka adopts you i’ve wrote how i think that went down before for a creative writing assignment i don’t wanna do it again sue me

- You slowly began to relax, Zuka gaining your trusts slowly but steadily, giving you what you needed, space, a shoulder to lean on, a trip to a rage room, whatever, overtime you both calmed down more, redirecting your anger to pyromania, ok maybe not the best but fire and explosions were fun!

- One day Zuka called to you that you had guests, when you went to the living room the last thing you expected to see was a deity but his son was chill, the three of you got along great, slowly becoming amazing friends, when he recounted a time two years ago he dyed his horns green to match his dad it gave Rocket an idea

- From that day onwards Rocket had you or Sword help him carve his horns to look more like your adoptive father, you’d chat, gossip, smack talk, and bicker while shaving down the extra parts on your bother’s horns, it was during one of these monthly times that you jokingly suggested maybe you two could become phighters, fast forward two months later you were sneaking out to go sign up for the next phight, Zuka wouldn’t approve so it was easier to ask for forgiveness then to ask for permission

- Even as you two changed your relationship never really did, you two stayed incredibly close, still pretending you were twins and even if you were no longer alone you both knew you could rely on each other to hell and back

coolio hope this is good lemme work on the next one, it’s 11 if i keep up with this pace i’ll have the three finished before midnight then i can do the final request(s?) tomorrow morning since i’ve got classes

#x reader #phighting x reader #phighting #phighting!#platonic #phighting rocket x reader #rocket x reader phighting #phighting rocket #rocket phighting #rocket x reader

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dmercer91 · 2 years ago

Note

hiiii, could you write something for protective matthew knies :))

protective!matty headcanons, mk23

matt knies is the boyfriend, actually

maybe you’re a little accident prone (this is incredibly self indulgent)

so he isn’t just protective in the sense that he’s dealing with other people or PR, but he’s physically protective over you too

he realized very early on that you seemingly didn’t care to pay attention to what you were doing, ever.

you walked straight into a patio door and then stood back, chuckled and then opened and walked through the door, just completely unfazed

so he’s started trailing behind you to be your eyes and protect you from random things

he doesn’t even realize it sometimes.

you’ll drop something under the table and he’s covering the corner of it with his hand while you go under to get whatever fell

he only realizes he even did it when you actually end up knocking your head on his knuckles on your way up

he’ll pull you back into his chest by your collar like a cat when you’re about to trip over something

if he’s walking in front of you he’ll kick stuff out of your way and keep his head down so your feet are in his peripherals

you’ve fallen off the bed, so now he just has you on the side by the wall (though you were originally very stubborn about which side of the bed you got) or he just lays directly on top of you

if you’re ever spending the night with the tavares’ since he moved up to toronto, he’s trying to inconspicuously always be the one to take your shirt off cause the basement ceiling is low and he knows you’ll go too fast and punch it so hard your hand swells

when he takes you skating the first time he watches you extremely closely

he’s consistently reminding you that you cannot take things out of the oven without the oven mitts on

if you’re making pasta or something he always lurks until it’s done boiling so he can strain it for you (and make sure you remember to turn off the stove)

if you go for a walk together he’ll always hold your hands or put his arm around your shoulders or keep his hand on your lower back or neck so you don’t stray away

he’s told you before that you need blinkers and break lights (he’s right, however you slap his arm for saying it)

if he’s talking you to the mall (especially somewhere like the eaton centre) he never strays from you

that’s one of the only things you noticed, because very early into your relationship he came into a lingerie store with you and you told him maybe six times that he could wait outside if he wanted

he was so obviously flustered but he just kept shaking his head cause he knew that you’d forget that he was sitting on his phone and go to the next store without him

you honestly thought he just wanted to partake in dressing room endeavours until he did the same thing at a kitchen supply store in which he looked so bored he might’ve actually shed a tear (dressing room endeavours he got regardless, he wasn’t gonna complain about it)

it finally clicks for you that he does all these things when someone on the team sees him pull you away from a curb before you can trip over it and comments about how grossly in love you are and how well he knows you

“you two are disgustingly cute,” “what’s that supposed to mean?” “he didn’t even look up from his phone! just grabbed you like it was an instinct. happens all the time, too. it’s like you’ve been engraved into each others brains or something,” “… huh,”

matt blushes harder than he ever has “don’t read too far into that,”

on top of this, he’s also protective of you when it comes to media, especially when he gets to the nhl

the leafs media is pretty brutal, and he was actually forewarned by multiple teammates to ignore any and all press releases or reporters on twitter so he knew the two of you would have to stay more or less private

he has an instagram story full of sweet pictures of the two of you but all of which include less than half of your face and no @

your account is kept private, but the photos there are more relationship confirming, obviously (some of them he is heavily teased for. cooley has your notifs on just so he can comments ludicrous shit)

if you’re in any wag group photos you ask not to be tagged and his number / last name is always covered

he actually goes to aryne to ask for advice if ever you do want to be more public (he leaves it entirely up to you) and she thinks it’s the sweetest thing ever that he wants to make sure nobody makes an issue for you

if ever you do get found out against your will, he’s probably more nervous than you are and he’s making you promise not to hide it from him if someone ever says something

if someone asks about you in a scrum he’s always so excited to talk about you but he keeps it very short and sweet in case he’s accidentally giving you away

the best way to put it is private, not hidden

cause in another life he’d be boasting to everyone about how amazing his girl is, so he doesn’t want to hide you completely but he prioritizes your personal life and protection over his need to brag

he’s also very protective of you in the conventional way, meaning about other people in person

the first fight he gets into in the nhl is because someone chirped him about you

you were by the glass during warmups and he basically spent half of his allotted time parked in the corner flirting with you like a complete idiot

obviously someone will notice, that’s a little strange behaviour

unfortunately that someone isn’t well known for keeping their mouth shut

it’s his first fight, so he absolutely got his ass handed to him, and you were in the press box just aggressively rolling your eyes

if ever you’re out for drinks together or even with the team he’s like your shadow

downtown toronto is not the place for someone unfamiliar with the area to be left, so you’re kinda glad for it

that’s until he’s a little past tipsy and he’s glaring at every man from ages 19-40 in the bar the second they come near

he sends poor mitch a cold stare after he asked you if you liked being at the game and you were like matthew it’s mitch??? mitch marner??? toronto maple leaf mitch marner, your alternate captain??

he does the same to a middle aged man who comes beside you to order a drink and mind you, the guy hardly even notices you’re there

“i don’t trust him,” “he’s fifty!”

you don’t really get it until it comes in handy and then you never complain again

if he actually feels like he needs to be protecting you he sobers up extremely quickly and suddenly your sweet, usually angel boyfriend actually seems his size

the only time he’s had to step in he was promptly laughed at cause of his age, only for the guy to look behind you, and be met with a table full of the maple leafs staring at the commotion

you quickly learn that the unspoken rule where players protect their rookies certainly extends to the rookie’s girlfriend

one time he had to go to the bathroom at an mlse event and rather than leave you for what ended up being a minute and a half at best, you were given a body guard out of jake mccabe

easily the most awkward experience of your life, but hey! now you’re best friends with jake mccabe

if you’re on a walk or something and there’s commotion in front of you or someone strange looking is walking behind you, matty is suddenly very hungry and you’re taking the nearest right into the door of a diner until things calm down

“do you want dinner? im hungry,” “matty it’s one in the afternoon we just ate,”

that’s actually how you found your favourite spot for date nights, cause he bought a slice of pie and you swore he could’ve eaten the whole thing if it was put in front of him

he’s always calling you on roadies to ask how your day is going, and then he’ll immediately ask if anyone’s been giving you trouble

“anyone giving you a hard time? guys in your dms i get to fight off?” “well, jacer [tavares’ son] is becoming quite the flirt. he drew me a flower n’ said it was pretty like me” “oh, so i’ve got some competition?”

he’s never weird or jealous about it, but he knows you’re very non confrontational so he tries his best to make sure you’re not uncomfortable without sounding like he doesn’t trust you

he’s never been angry with you about it, so you eventually realize that he’s just incredibly and fiercely protective of you and you come think it’s sweet over time

#e’s headcanons !#matthew knies #matthew knies x reader #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #toronto maple leafs

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sissylittlefeather · 6 months ago

Text

Let's Forget About the Stars: Chapter 3

A/N: Another installment for Elvis and Dove! This one is a little spicy, but don't worry, these two are still hopelessly devoted to each other.

Need to catch up? Masterlist HERE.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, kissing, cussing, masturbation (m&f), phone sex, ejaculation, oh and racism

Word count ~2.5k

They drift off to sleep together, Elvis's mind racing with plans of how and when to ask and visions of her in a white dress walking down the aisle towards him.

******

Elvis has two weeks before he has to go to Vancouver for his concert in August of '57. He and Dove spend as much time together as possible until then, even staying together at Graceland several times. They don't have sex, no matter how much they want to. He's waiting for their wedding night and even though he hasn't said it to her, she's okay with waiting. That doesn't mean they don't have their fair share of fun similar to that first night they stayed together. Still, though, she hasn't touched him and they haven't seen each other naked.

When the time finally comes for him to go to Vancouver, he takes her home to pack a bag to come along. However, he didn't think about how his manager might respond to the idea. He shows up at his house with Dove in tow only to run into the Colonel.

"Oh! Colonel, this is my girl, Dove Morningstar." The Colonel purses his lips and nods curtly at Dove. She holds her hand out for him to shake, but he doesn't take it.

"My boy, your daddy told me about this new... adventure... of yours."

"Adventure? What did Daddy tell you?" The Colonel looks at Dove, down to the overnight bag in her hands, and then back at Elvis.

"She is not joining us in Canada." Elvis looks at him shocked.

"Why the hell not?"

"She is not acceptable. I would've rather had this conversation in private, but you force my hand."

"Force your hand? Colonel, what the hell are you talking about?" Dove shifts uncomfortably.

"Jumbee, I don't have to come if it's-"

"No, Dovey, you're coming." He turns back to the Colonel. "She's coming. Or I'm not."

"My boy, the flight is booked and she doesn't have a ticket. She will not join us." Dove can feel the anger roll off of Elvis as his nostrils flare with rage.

"What the fuck is the problem, Colonel?"

"Look at her. She does not meet the standard of what a man of your caliber should date, if he dates anyone at all. Now, I am happy to arrange a date with someone appropriate, but you need to see this trip as an opportunity to move on from this silly obsession."

"Silly obsession?! I love-"

"Yes, you love her. Given enough time, that will fade. You'll see. Now, say goodbye and come with me to the airport. Someone will make sure she gets back to where she belongs." Dove looks at the ground, willing the tears not to fall. This is exactly what she has been afraid of since she met him. She turns and heads for the door with her bag in her hands.

"Wait, Dovey, no, don't leave, you're coming." He stops her at the door and she turns to face him.

"Elvis, it's really okay. I don't have to come. Maybe he's right. You're Elvis Presley. I'm just... me." He holds his hand up to her cheek firmly.

"No, honey. I'm Jumbee and you're the love of my life. I will fix this."

"Just go to Canada. We'll figure this out when you get back." He pushes his forehead to hers and closes his eyes.

"I don't wanna be without you."

"I know Jumbee, but it'll be okay. I'll be right here." He nods and kisses her deeply.

"I love you, Dovey."

"I love you too." The Colonel rolls his eyes and ushers Elvis out the door quickly. Gladys and Vernon are set to follow later, so they're still there when Elvis leaves. When Dove falls to her knees in tears in the foyer, Gladys goes to her immediately, wrapping her in a hug and pulling her to the couch to hold her as she cries. She shushes her and hums quietly. Vernon watches the way she weeps and something inside him softens. When a good amount of time has passed, he offers to take her home. She nods, defeated.

In the car, Vernon and Dove ride in silence for most of the way. As they get closer to their destination, he clears his throat and she looks over at him.

"You really love my son, don't you?" She turns and looks out the window.

"Yes. I do."

"I'm not a monster. I want him to be happy. I just worry what people will say. Surely you can understand that." She swallows deeply.

"I do. I've tried to tell him it won't be easy, but he insists that he doesn't care."

"My boy is headstrong. When he wants something, he'll do everything he can to get it, and he usually does. That's why I'm talking to you. You need to decide if you want to do what's best for him." She looks up at him. Is he suggesting what she thinks he is?

"I'm not ending this."

"Even if it means the end of his career? Think about what's most important to him. Do you want to be the reason that's taken away?" They pull up to the front of her boarding house and she looks back at Vernon.

"If he ends this for his career, I will respect that. But until he tells me himself that he doesn't want to be with me, I will be with him. Every step of the way." She opens the door and gets out of the car, walking up to the porch without looking back.

******

On the plane, Elvis and the Colonel have a similar conversation, but the Colonel is not as nice as Vernon.

"An Indian girl?! Elvis what are you thinking? You might as well be dating-"

"Stop. You seem to think I care that she isn't white. That's wrong and you know it."

"You may not care, but your fans will. Half of them will lose all respect for you. The other half will be devastated that you're unavailable. You are only you because of those fans. Do you really want to alienate them?" Elvis looks down at his hands in his lap. He knows the Colonel is right. But he loves her more than he loves his career. He looks at the Colonel sternly.

"I'm going to say this once and I hope you hear me. I would go back to being an electrician before I'd give up Dovey. We're done with this conversation."

"I hope she's worth it, my boy."

"She is."

******

Elvis performs in Vancouver to a raucous crowd and has an amazing show. He's pleased with his performance, but there's one thing missing: Dove. When he comes off the stage, he's hit with a wave of wishing she could be there to celebrate with him. He decides then and there that she will be at his next show if he has to drive her there himself.

The Colonel arranges a party for after the show and fills it to the brim with pretty girls. He's determined to distract Elvis and get his mind away from that girl in Memphis. Besides, Elvis is too old to be what he is. It's time for him to become a man.

But his efforts are all for nothing. Elvis politely greets the women the Colonel thrusts at him, signs autographs and even kisses a couple of cheeks, but nothing more. He almost seems bored with the party.

What he really is is anxious to get back to his hotel room and call Dove. He misses her so much he can barely stand it. All these other girls might as well be invisible.

"Colonel, I think I'm gonna turn in." Elvis gestures towards the door.

"No, my boy! We're just getting started! Here, have you met-"

"No. No more girls, Colonel. I'm going to bed." The Colonel leans in to Elvis's ear and whispers.

"I could always send one of them with you." Elvis snaps his head back to look the Colonel in the eye, shocked he would even suggest such a thing. He's not even sure how to respond. "It's time, my boy."

"No. It isn't. Goodnight, Colonel." With that, Elvis turns on his heel and heads out the door to go back to his room.

******

"And then he said he could send one back to my room with me?!" Elvis lays on his bed with the phone pressed to his ear.

"Wow. What did you say?" Dove is on her side in bed, holding the phone with her shoulder as she plays with the cord. She's missed Elvis so much it hurts, so hearing his voice on the phone is exactly what she's needed.

"I told him no! You know you're the only girl for me, Dovey." They sit quietly for a bit. "I wish you were here."

"I know, Jumbee, I do too. I miss you like crazy."

"I miss you too, baby." Dove smiles and lays back on her bed.

"What would we do if I was there?"

"Well, we'd be snuggled up together on this bed, for one thing."

"Yeah?"

"Yes. And I'd be kissing you." She giggles.

"Oh, you would? Where would you kiss me?" He smiles slyly.

"Everywhere. Your neck, your cheeks, your lips..." Elvis looks down at himself and notices his dick as it hardens in his pants. What he wouldn't give to be kissing Dove right now, rubbing against her passionately.

"Mmm I would like that. Then what?" Dove's chest heaves as her heart races. She feels her arousal building between her legs, desperately wishing Elvis was there to work his magic with his hand.

"Well, then, then I-I-I would..." He trails off, wrapping his hand around his cock without thinking.

"Yeah? What, Jumbee?"

"I would touch you..." Elvis moans softly as he begins to stroke himself.

"Elvis, what are you doing?"

"Nothing... I'm just... nothing." He stops touching himself and then whimpers. "Maybe we should hang up."

"Hang up? Why?" He takes a deep breath. He knows he has to tell her, as awkward as it might be.

"I'm too... I need to... well, baby..."

"What is it?"

"I don't want to... shock you..."

"Elvis, you can tell me anything." He looks down at his rock hard cock and sighs.

"I'm too turned on. I need to... take care... of myself..."

"What? You need to...? Oh." Her mother told her that this kind of thing happens to boys sometimes. She blushes, but he can't see it.

"Yeah, so maybe we should just hang up..."

"No, I'm not ready yet. You've... finished with me before. What if you just did it now?"

"While we're on the phone?!"

"Yeah... we could keep talking..." He's quiet for a minute, thinking.

"You could... do it too..."

"What? No! I'm a girl! I wouldn't even know what to do."

"Dovey, baby, you just move your fingers on yourself the way I do." Her heart is pounding at the suggestion, but she's craving the feeling so badly.

"I wish you were here!"

"I know, baby, I do too. But just pretend it's me touching you. Sometimes I pretend it's you touching me."

"You do?" His hand slowly moves back to holding his dick.

"Mhmm. I pretend like you wrapped your pretty little hand around me and you move..."

"Would you like that? If I did that?"

"Oh, Dovey, I would love it." He unzips his pants, freeing his cock and starting to stroke it again.

"What does it feel like?"

"It feels so good. Like when I rub my finger on you and then slide it inside." She whimpers, her core throbbing with need. "Just touch yourself, baby. Make yourself feel good. I'm right here."

He moves his hand a little faster, sliding his foreskin back and forth, giving himself just the right amount of friction. Dove's hands shake as she slides her pajama shorts and panties down. Slowly, she puts her finger on her clit and moves it back and forth. She whimpers a little.

"Are you doing it? Talk to me baby." Elvis whispers breathlessly into the phone. She moves her finger more boldly, getting lost in the sensation.

"Yes, ohhh, yes I'm doing it. It feels so good."

"Good. That's good. Just imagine my finger on you, moving so fast over that little spot that makes you wild."

"Yes, Elvis! What are you imagining?"

"Oh, baby, I'm imagining your hand on me, pumping up and down, making me feel so good."

"I'd like to... try that... sometime." The thought makes him groan.

"I would love that, baby. Now, slide your finger inside, like I do." She pushes her middle finger into herself and moans loudly. He grunts, collecting some precum from his tip and rubbing it around. "Yes, baby, like that. Does it feel good?"

"It feels so good... oh God..." He pumps himself harder and faster, trying to match what he assumes is her pace and she slides her finger in and out of herself.

"Don't stop baby... I want you to cum for me..." She uses context clues to figure out what he's talking about and moves her finger over her sensitive bud faster and faster.

"Are you gonna cum too?" He nods and then realizes she can't see him.

"Y-yes baby, I'm so close, oh!"

"Me too, Elvis! Yes! Yes!"

"Fuck, Dovey, yeah baby!"

She throbs and pulses around her own finger while his hips buck and he ruins his hand with his release. They both sit on the phone breathing heavily and trying to recover from their orgasms. Finally, he speaks.

"Dovey, are you still there?"

"Mhmm. That was... I liked that..." He smiles, desperately wishing he could snuggle her and kiss her forehead.

"I miss you, baby."

"I miss you too. Come home to me soon, okay?"

"As soon as I possibly can." She smiles into the phone.

"Then I'll see you soon."

"Not soon enough. I love you, Dovey."

"I love you too, Jumbee."

******

Several days later Elvis finally gets back to Memphis. Gladys calls Dove and makes sure she's at Graceland when he gets home. Vernon watches anxiously, wondering if anything he said will make a difference.

When Elvis walks through the door, he kisses his mama first and then runs over to Dove, scooping her up to wrap her legs around him. He peppers her with kisses wildly as she giggles.

The Colonel looks at Vernon, frustrated. Elvis is oblivious as he carries her up the stairs directly to his bedroom. Gladys smiles and walks back into the kitchen, leaving Vernon and the Colonel alone together. Vernon speaks first.

"I tried to appeal to her better nature. I think she really loves him."

"I don't care if she does. This cannot continue. She will completely derail him."

"They're both pretty insistent. I'm afraid if we push them we'll make it worse."

"No. Elvis is not stupid. I'll come up with something."

"Colonel, maybe we should just let him be happy. It probably won't last anyway."

"Is that a bet you're willing to lay your son's future on?" Vernon swallows and shakes his head.

"No. It's not."

"Then I will need you on my side when I come up with something."

"Okay"

"I will be back."

******

Stay with me!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist;

@wildhorseinkansas @everythingelvispresley @ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @atleastpleasetelephone @cinnamoroll-things @burnthheparaphilia @jhoneybees @cattcb @returntopresley

#elvis presley #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis #elvis fanfic #elvis presley fic #elvis smut #elvis fanfiction #elvis fic #elvis x oc #Elvis x Dove #elvis presley smut #elvis presley x oc #Elvis Presley x Dove Morningstar #let's forget about the stars

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goaskangel · 1 month ago

Text

bookie!

journalist!reader x business-man!hakari

cw...NSFW, slight manipulation, mention of intox, use of "mister" "sir" "doll", dumification, degradation, all the usual smut stuff LOL

word count...4.8k

a/n...this is my first fic ive posted publicly EEEK lowk nervy but i've read like 2 good hakari fics on this mf website and i js figured i might as well do it myself. my writing here IS NOT MY BEST, i plan to indulge into how i usually write. smut is a little harder for me to write so be patient AND NICE PLZ. mdni!please understand what kind of media you are consuming and be smart about it.

just the way hakari presented himself, it felt as if even if you didn’t suspect anything from him, it was obvious he was a secretive and cocky man. from how he dressed with his constant change between pimpy-fur coats and vulgar tanks with his ever-changing colored hair between purples, blacks, and blondes, it was no surprise he must’ve lied his way to the top.

and even with this assumption, you couldn’t deny the offer of living with him and your company's team. not necessarily living with him but staying in a private luxury hotel, and sure, maybe your job here wasn’t very important as a journalist but your boss insisted on you attending.

what kind of moron would pass on the opportunity of possibly breaking through one of japan’s wealthiest and slyest business men anyway?

something about interviews but mostly projects, maybe even a documentary went in your ear and out the other when your boss spoke to you about the expectations on this “trip.”

after being stuck on a reserved bus, you finally manage to push through and make it to a not very deserted place. matter of fact it was right in front of a busy street in the busiest city. you stretched your legs, cracked a few fingers, and headed to the entrance of the tall—what seemed to be marbled—hotel. if you could even call it that. seemed like a resort more than anything. you were told your bags full of equipment for work and clothes for the three day project would be handled by security. the front of the building were two big guards protecting any outsiders. pretty confidential for just a few days. it stays on brand with hakari’s whole attitude, a whole ass hotel in the city only allowing a few people with specific identification.

inside it looked like everybody from every corporate office in town had been messily dragged in. heavy steel tables were set randomly with even heavier bags and briefcases on top, open with papers and documents spilling out.

the man himself was sitting at one of the sturdy desks, his head down.

before you noticed that he decided to go purple, left his black blazer on the shoulders of the chair he sat on, you watched as his hand shook carefully on a paper given to him by the lady standing nearby.

his hot pink eyes dart back and forth across the page. you assume he was looking for another place to sign because he handed it right back to her after examining. hakari returns back to a binded notebook, the pen still in his fingers. he scribbles words down vigorously. part of you wonders what he’s got going on. another part wonders where your room will be.

you observe the rest of the lobby. you glance at your boss finally coming through security, the dumb, happy guy starts a conversation with almost everyone as he came. he calls hakari over as if they’ve known each other since the dawn of time, and he follows. they greet one another and you go blank on the rest until your name is called. quickly, you turn to face the men again and walk towards them.

"if the interview goes well—which i'm sure it will—perhaps the documentary could follow up.” your boss explains, still turnt to hakari.

“mhm oh yeah man i’m sure of it, yep.” he agrees, mooning. his white button up hugging him perfectly.

scrunched up sleeves, pen marks on his forearms. a few buttons undone from the neck.

“this young lady right here is the foundation of the writing department.”

“oh yeah. so i’ve read.”

he reaches a hand out, “took you a while to say hi.”

“you seemed busy, signing shit n’ whatnot.” you smile politely and firmly shake his hand. he cheeses a toothy grin, blue and silver gems shine back at you.

“pardon her words, man. you know how writers are—can write page upon pages yet their mind goes blank when they have a chance to speak—hah.” your boss shines his own nervous smile.

“ya, know what they say about business men, can talk for hours and hours, spill what seems to be almost everything, and still have secrets.” he darts his eyes to yours before closing and laughing richly with the older man.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

you spend the rest of the night cozying up into your hotel room and lazily journaling down ideas, even scraping up an idea against hakari. you stretch your arms after tossing your notebook shut, you glance over at the alarm on the desk,

11:24 P.M.

it would be a good time to grab a snack, now that everyone should be asleep. at least you hope so as you walk out in casual clothes.

you toss the room’s card from hand to hand and pass quiet rooms until turning left to the snack bar. you were told earlier that food would be available for the company whenever, so you figured it must be open now too, with all the staff asleep or at their posts.

there was an incredible aroma of columbian brew with a dash of vanilla dancing with something hot, something fresh out of the oven. you’re greeted with his strong back. shaped tightly, almost too tight, was a simple white tank. on caramel skin, his wide shoulders flexed as he took a small spoon into his mug, tossing sugar packets and singles of liquid creamers into a trash bin. but it doesn’t really phase you. what were the chances of somebody being here? let alone hakari. it’s ironic and mostly awkward.

you could’ve left but the pastry before you was calling your name. how awkward could it really be?

you walk towards the counter he was just at, he who was walking back to a two-chaired table.

“it’s almost midnight.” he speaks and you freeze as if you’ve been caught. obviously, you haven’t, so you quickly grabbed a floral napkin and the pastry.

“writers stay up late, i know that. but they’re usually alone.”

“well how was i supposed to know somebody else was gonna be up? it is almost midnight.”

“you’re the one writing stories about me and talking shit, i’d assume you’d know everything about me.” he grins as he pulls a chair out, sitting in it and slowly stirring his coffee. steam swirls up from the cup. “take a seat.”

you walk to him and pull the other chair out, sitting quietly. you break apart the food in your hands and eat it piece by piece, examining the table subtly.

he’d been sitting there for a while; papers closed a binder with a few pens spilt around. an empty chip bag, a few crumbs near the bottom of the coffee cup, his hands warming up around it.

his hands were nice.

you swallow casually and look back at him. “you read my stuff? which one of your little employees do you have search for works written about you, huh?”

“i find ‘em myself, ‘nd you're lucky i don’t report them. can’t have nasty stuff circulating around me, whether if it’s true or not.”

“—or should i call them workers instead?” you ignore him.

“your writing is admirable.”

something about that made you lose track of what you were saying.

you lay back in your chair and mumble an okay.

you watch as he takes a sip of his sugared coffee, the steam cupping his face gently and flowing up.

“so when do you sleep?”

“i’ll go in a couple,” he says, cracking his knuckles. “schedule’s got all fucked ever since i got here. my manager—and don’t tell her i said this—doesn’t understand the concept of time, or maybe she’s fucking with me. how can i get three hours of paperwork done, meetings between each pile, ‘nd make phone calls back to back, but can’t stay up late?”

“damn, you’ve even got your sleep schedule sorted?”

“gotta sneak out here like some goddamn teenager. it’s no big deal, she’s knocked out at 10. jus’ gotta keep kissing her ass and thank her for taking such good care of me. she won’t suspect a thing.”

you giggle at the irony, “might as well be your girlfriend.”

“god, more like my mom.” you can see the outline of his tongue grazing his teeth as he grins. probably feeling the gems on his smile, you cross your legs at the view.

funny and handsome.

speaking of closing your thighs—you remember you have to get back to your room.

“we’ve got just three days,” you say as you stand from your chair, “i’m sure we’ll have to work our asses off tomorrow.” hakari looks up at you.

“hmm nobody tell you wha’s happening either?”

you shake your head and carefully bite the inside of your lip.

“m’kay. have a good rest of your night, then.” he nods back down and sips his coffee. his tone indicated he practically knew you weren’t sleeping immediately. to enjoy the rest of your night.

“yeah, i’ll make sure of it. goodnight.”

as happy as you were to receive a half-vacation, half-business trip at a hotel – the benefits of not having to wake up early just to drive almost an hour to work everyday, the entire company just being outside, your hands would not suffice. you thought to yourself earlier, how great it’d be to stay in a nice, cool room and wind down from a long day. keeping dirty fantasies in your head and just when you thought the tight, small circles on your heat could master an orgasm. but the thought of him kept interrupting.

a hand crawling up your neck and the other circling underneath your panties. closing your eyes as you concentrated on silver-haired men kissing your breasts, guys who stunk of cigarettes and coffee making out with your clit, god anybody willing to run their hands on your body. you jolt at the sudden twitch of your cunt, your back arching slightly. you groan. the man you’ve been practically stalking and have to work with is now appearing in your head while you masturbate. you switch the bedside lamp off and take off-white sheets over yourself.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

on the second day, you pass new people while walking down narrow hallways. each person looking more tired than the one before. you notice just how many people could fill up the lobby and snack bar. as enticing the syrup from breakfast smelled, you keep your distance from everybody else. carefully, you lick the inner of your lips and taste the lipgloss you applied earlier.

now popping your lips, backing up slowly, still examining the room until you feel what seems to be a pillar or wall behind you.

“hey… you got a light?” behind you. tall, peeping over you – was that a fur coat? hakari watches everybody else almost as intently as you were.

you stutter before reaching into your coat’s pocket, “yeah.” he takes it and quickly lights the now-appeared-cigarette of his mouth.

“a smoke for breakfast? that can’t be healthy.” you cross your arms as he flips the lighter in the air.

“it wouldn’t have been, hun, we had breakfast this morning already. don't you remember?” he exhales smoke that passes your jaw, making you shudder.

“here, sounds like you need it.” he says the last part through his teeth, pinching the end of the cig and lowering it to your mouth. you glare to your side and lean in to wrap your lips around it, inhaling. you pull away and spew smoke out much more discreetly. he takes another, blowing it out, licking his lips, “tastes like bubblegum.”

after set-ups and mic-checks in steel stools and numerous questions, you’re sitting in front of a laid-back hakari. his legs man-spread and his hands fixing his hair every other second. a very specific rage comes back to you. the same anger that you felt staying up to post blogs about complicated, but evident-filled, theories and what you truly think is the truth about the man sitting in front of you. the feeling is nostalgic. your nerves are overfilled with different emotions – since when could a man controlling so many industries, controlling so many people and still handle an underground fight club while acting like a semi-normal person? but normal people don’t wear fur-fucking-coats on the regular, let alone keep illegal ranges where people fight like bears just to be bet on like horses.

two cups of steaming coffee are placed in the high-wooden table between you and hakari.

“this part of the interview will be audio-presented. the second part will be videotaped.” the host of the section stands above the recorder, the rest of the crew standing around or still finishing breakfast. “etiquette for the tape is pretty simple – ‘ms and mr’ is usually set and the rest is self-explanitory.”

you nod kindly and look at the man, meeting his eyes, ones that perhaps never left you.

easy, almost-boring questions are asked but it hadn’t prepared you for what was going to come. the questions slowly make less and less connection and stay focused on hakari. “ethicality is mentioned within businesses and is no exception to your work, ms l/n.” before being asked the repetitive question, the topic being how many times can we make hakari look like a god in one tape, you interrupt the host.

“morals are nowhere to be found in such work. there’s – again – no sense.” now slouched, hakari responds, “tell me, when searching for a job that pays well, were you interested in the pay or how many hours you had to work? ‘s there something you w’na say about being able to survive or how comfortable you are?”

“sometimes it just boggles me to think about how one person needs more than one business. is it for fun, mister?”

“is what for fun, girl?”

“is being a con-man to violent people and making them believe knocking each other’s teeth out will help for fun?”

the host stutters and gets shushed, “well, you’re very right. that wouldn’t be ethical at all.” he smiles very faintly. too faintly for you to lash out and not make it seem like you’re crazy.

“untruthful about being a bookie and fight-promoter. does gachinko ring a bell?”

“any more questions? how about all my employees' salaries? wanna know my salary? how’s about ‘you busy after this?’”

the recorder falls off the foldable table after being shaken, “for the love of god.” your boss yells and stops. scrunching his fat nose and pinching the bridge. “that was the fourth time. i just… you know what, we’ll continue tomorrow morning. kinji you’ve got a meeting we’ve, i’ve, been trying to hold off but it seems like everybody’s in the mood for a break.” he walks to the exit of the lobby, followed by some of his crew. hakari gets up, exhaling and cracking his fingers and wrists.

“almost as good as your writing. but writers always gotta fuck up while speaking.” he picks up the recorder from the ground and tosses it to the full cups of coffee.

“are they going to post it?”

he shakes his head.

“then what?”

“might do it all again tomorrow. a little more strict, too. it’s not like it was a bad tape either. just like you know, i can’t let shit spread around about me. i would never allow it.”

you scoff and watch him walk off, cursing under your breath.

it’s the evening when he comes back, bringing a few drunk men through the guards. you nod your head back and forth between your open laptop and the men that find their wobbly way to the lounge's couches. you tune out their slurred talk and how hakari’s joking gets belly-laughs from them. he cackles with them, clapping his hands bluntly. he sighs, tears in his eyes, as he walks past the random suitcases and desks spread-about.

you type away at your slightly dull keys, clumsily taking your gel-pen and drabbling a note down.

“workin’ hard, i see.” you feel a heavy hand land on your left shoulder and glance over to the other side of the desk, hakari’s ringed-fingers tapping away at the steel.

“what’re you writing down…” he mumbles and leans over obnoxiously. you lean back in your chair, looking at him looking at your notes.

“god, are you drunk? didn’t you just have a meeting?”

“drunk? nah, i don’t get drunk.”

“i can smell the whiskey from your breath.”

“ah-ha, you knew i drank whiskey, huh. looks like even an overworked girl like you knows how to have fun, too.” he looks at you with literal joy in his pupils. face tampered with blush while smiling like a hyena. “anyway,” he stands back up, the grip on your shoulder falling to your bare-arm. “even your handwriting is nice.”

“uh-huh…” you press your thighs together, feeling the cold metal of his jewelry on your skin. his hand so big compared to your arm. part of you hopes his long gaze is down your blouse.

it is.

“ya look good.” he speaks through the rasp in his throat but all you hear is a mutter, he gives your arm a squeeze before patting it and walking toward the corridor of rooms.

you let out a shaky sigh and feel yourself burn up, staring at your yellow-notepad. hakari strides to his room, the last room of the hallway, stretching his arms. he takes a gold card out and shoves it into the slot.

he lets out a serene moan when his back hits the bed. tossing his keys, phone, and whatever junk out of his pockets onto the nightstand. his large coat following. he groans and kicks off his shoes. something still bothering him. he reaches his hands down to his belt and unravels it, throwing it down. unbuttoning and zipping to comfort the ache below his stomach.

god, how hard could a guy get from one conversation? his slit brows raise as he grins, taking his weeping cock and holding the base.

thinking about all the things you’d say,

you’re so vulgar. not enough action recently, huh? what stress’ll do to ya…

“yeah, baby, stress.” he takes his other hand and taps the underside of his cock in his palm. closing his eyes and imagining your sweet self between his legs, those same tits in his view. your pink tongue lolling out for him. “finally shut that smart-ass mouth up… use her for something fuckin’ useful.” he groans, stroking himself.

what makes him throb is how dumb you’d gotten when his hands were on you. how fucking sweet and quiet you went when his fingers stroked your arm, weren’t you exposing him just a couple of hours ago? what a desperate girl. he swears out as he jerks spurts of come onto his clothed shirt. “yeah, hmph god, yeah, that’s good..” he pants like a dog, eyes going heavy.

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another day passes and you haven’t come. guilt swats your hand away everytime you try, anyway. you start to get sick of the syrup and eggs roaming the air. you sit at the same spot from last evening and observe the room.

half of your company is eating breakfast or still passed out on the couch. the others, probably asleep or dealing with tech. your boss walks towards you and places a cup of coffee down in front of you.

“we oughta work on you, huh? hah!” he stirs wood in his own cup.

“you’re not hungover? i’m surprised you’re up this early.”

“gotta stay professional, ya know…i only had one shot. maybe a couple. this coffee’s really good, drink some.”

“right because drinks on the second day of a work-trip is highly professional.”

“hey, come on.” he frowns and drinks a sip of his obviously too hot roast. “where is everybody? hell, where’s kinji?” he drifts off to a new group of people near the snackbar.

the lobby fills again with the occasional technical difficulty, yet no hakari to be found. you wish you could throw it off and be so disconnected that you didn’t even realize the star wasn’t here like some of your colleagues, but you kept your eyes on that same corridor. the loud bitch from the room on the tallest floor went through your ear and out the other. you didn’t even realize the fly that was constantly buzzing had been trying to get your attention.

“do you know where kinji is?” she was beautiful but still his assistant, loud and fussy like a bad mom. if she didn’t know where he was, how were you supposed to know? you put on a concerned look with a little smile, “might be in his room.” you get up and begin walking to the hallway, how the hell did they not check his fucking room? you swear your eyes roll so far to the back of your head, that if you didn’t have ears to hear the bitch’s loud heels clacking, you could’ve seen her behind you. you turn to the last door on the right and knock, remembering how many men had to carry luggage upon luggage inside.

“hello? mister, we’re waiting on you.” you knock faster than time. “hakari?” the door swings open and your hand is met with another. before you can say anything, he shushes you and looks around, pulling you into his room and says, “give me a’minute. take a seat.” he leaves. by seat he probably refers to his bed, the entire room cluttered by stuff. you sit on the edge of his bed and sigh, taking a moment to collect what just happened.

he was shirtless. the bathroom door being open and light on explains why, he’d taken a shower. the mirror was still foggy and the towel hung on the door’s hanger. there was a faint smell of vanilla and something floral. you would’ve been pissed to be in a messy room like this but you figured it was better than being out with everybody else.

the door opens again and a calm hakari walks in, closing the door and locking it.

his hair is damp but you only notice how he’s clothed in a towel. one that hangs low at his hips.

“everybody’s waiting, and you’re not even dressed yet.”

“s’fine, y/n. i bought us some time. these people, they’ll listen to whatever i say.” he says with a smile, and you look back at him with confusion.

“but the interview…?” your mouth drops gently when his hand comes to hold your face.

he sighs and looks up and away. your legs are shut and you swallow the sudden pool of saliva in your mouth as your eyes are fixated on his sharp, shaved jawline and how his adam’s apple flexes as he speaks. “this job’s real tough, i know it is, ‘nd you want a break. doesn’t everyone?” he looks back down at you, his eyes filled with what seems to be.. lust? you furrow your eyebrows and nod slowly. he carefully puts some hair behind your ear and leans down to whisper against your skin, “w’na be a good girl and take some of that stress away from the both of us?” he kisses a part of your jaw, “my good girl?”

oh god.

did you write half of your career on this greedy man just for him to be licking your ear? leading a hand to your button-up and slowly undoing the pearly clasps?

his hand now on your bare leg, going up and up your mid-pencil skirt. you feel yourself get dizzy from the thought of him feeling your lacy panties, holding a hand on his strong shoulder, his skin slightly wet. did you wear them on purpose? you can’t think. he stands back up, his hand slithering and rubbing the back of your neck. breathing heavily, you start to undo the rest of your shirt’s buttons. “yeah, there ya go.” he encourages you until your laced bra is exposed.

he hooks a finger on the side of your panties and tugs them off, you reach under your skirt and tug the other side. he takes both sides and peels away, “mhhm, always liked a matching set.” your skin burns at embarrassment, not from what he said but how wet the middle of your core was and how drenched the crotch of your panties were.

“a lil’ kissin’ got you this soaked, huh? you want this? ain’t you just sweet, doll.” he throws it to the corner of the bed and hums when you nod. “s’quiet when you’re needy.” hakari pushes two fingers at your lips just when you thought you could finally say something. “open.” he demands gently and grins when you comply. they find their way to the middle of your mouth and you can’t help but suck softly. “mhm that’s good, suck ‘em good. cost about’a milli’ each, heh.” he takes them out and pushes you slowly onto your back, spreading your legs, holding one up with a burly arm.

“fuck.” is the only thing you manage to let out when he bunches your skirt up to your waist.

“be quiet f’me now.” he spits a glob onto his two fingers and presses them to your clit. you gasp at the content.

“so wet.” he mumbles.

circling tight, slippery rounds on your aching bud. the guilty friction you’ve been craving finally went through. a sudden warmth and pleasure take over your pelvis. heat rises to your upper body, your hands slightly shaking and your ears burning, god, what were you doing? you watch and feel his dirty mastered hand bring you shame. your entire career faltered just for your fulfillment, the guilt so heavy, it makes you moan out.

“huuh, mister – shit, i need it.” you speak whispers breathlessly.

“yeah? you need it, baby?” he brings his focus to your pathetic expression, pushing and curling two fingers into your cunt. you moan out and watch, feel, as his fingers pump in and out of you. his hands are skilled as they break you open little by little. “sweet girl with a needy cunt, must’ve hit the fuckin’ jackpot.” your clit throbbing as you watch him grope himself and ease his own ache through the white towel.

“c’mon, please sir.” you tap the side of his waist with your heeled foot.

“patience, girl.” he pulls his fingers out and pats your vulva a few times before pulling your body close to his. his hand finally, finally pulling down the towel. the thing that kept distracting you from nights of sleep now dripping pre just above your heat. he gives himself a couple of strokes, long and heavy as your body begged, driving yourself closer ‘til your ass was almost off the bed.

“shh shh.” he rubs his wet tip against your folds as you start begging quietly, your slits sloppily kissing. he groans when your cunt flutters, pushing himself into the first tight muscle.

you writhe at the sudden burn, making you mewl ever-so quietly.

“be a good girl f’me.” he presses a hand on your lower stomach in comfort before moving his hips forward with no intent of stopping until he’s bottomed out. you moan long whines and grind your body down to try and get more, the stretch already burning. “fuck, goddamn it.” the warmth you bring him is unmatched, all he can think about is how hot you feel.

“fuck me – wan’ more.” you clench down and get a moan out of him. his hands hold down onto your plush thighs as he rocks back and forth into you, your folds swallowing him whole everytime. your throat burns at the way you choke out whimpers, drool seeping from the sides of your plump lips. “what’s your company g’na think of you now, hmm? director of the – fuckin’ writing department– their smart girl’s gotta fuck it all up cause she couldn’t resist some cock.” his hips start to fasten and he keeps a tight grip on your legs, your pretty, fucked out, face stays red. “‘s okay, pretty. you ain’t gotta say nothing, jus’ take it like the dumb girl you are and i’ll forget about all the mean little things you said, mhm?”

“uh-huh.” your head’s spinning from the grinding he’s now doing, the underside of his cock rubbing back and forth and back and forth on the rough spot inside of you. your thighs tremble as you feel yourself getting close. you get louder and hiccup about how good it is.

“ya – yesyesyes please awh fuck,” your hands groping at the back of your neck and the hard nipples of your breast as you arch your back off of the white sheets, “coming – oh god kin’ i’m gonna come, come. thank you thank you…!” the hard waves of heat and fuzziness take up what seems to be your entire body as you cream all over the base of his cock, hakari still pumping himself inside, riding your release out. “god, fuck, baby. stay still.” eagerly, he takes his hard-on out and jerks himself above your mound before coming straight, hot lines of cum onto your stomach.

he pants, “you wanna talk to me about my morals?”

“jesus fuck. shut the fuck up.”

#goaskangel #jujutsu kaisen x reader #hakari kinji #kinji hakari #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #jjk x you #new author #gojo x reader #nanami x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #toji smut #toji fushiguro #toji x reader

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evilsniigura · 2 months ago

Note

Yandere Bully Adam x Trans fem reader x Yandere Bestfriend Eve

Cw: Transphobia but adam doesn’t actually mean it

this asks did something to me. i literally ascended reading that. idk why but your brain anon!!! please. share more ideas with me. i have a special place in my heart for trans fem reader sisnskdksk

YANDERE BULLY ADAM the love of my life and the man i hate the most. all in one!!!! he’s so annoying and makes these awful comments, which he doesn’t even mean. he’s so far up in denial. adam is all like „i’d MAYBE hit it if you were a real girl but nothing would change that ugly face“ and then he goes home, pulls up his burner accounts and goes stalk readers pictures online to jack off. we all know reader got him blocked 😭😭

YANDERE BEST FRIEND EVE!!!!!! i didn’t even think of the possibility somebody arrest me. UCHHHHH i know she’s a bit paranoid. in my mind eve and adam are broken up because of eves cheating. and she loves reader she really does!! loves experimenting with make up and clothes and hyping up her best friend!!

and well. in my mind, since they all go to a catholic private college reader goes not really through bullying but there are rumours and stuff going around. it’s hard for her to make friends :( it’s okay tho, because eve is there!! lucifer and lilith are also great ally’s!!! but eve doesn’t like having reader around them lmaoo

eve teaching reader all about girlhood. like. how best friends totally make out on the regular. and how reader should totally send her nudes for her to rate. is genuinely sad when reader declines like :((((((( she just want to be there!!

idk i imagine adam losing his mind. like why does reader like eve so much?? he’s much cooler, much better, way more loyal?? at the same time he’s the guy who trips reader in the hallway, continuously flips readers skirt up to look under it (genuinely surprised when reader stops wearing skirts and dresses. has the audacity to miss the outfits), follows reader around to mock her 😭 he at least punched someone else for insulting reader. but reader didn’t see it happening. loss for adam

in my mind reader and eve are in the locker room. reader usually changes somewhere else (toilets) and is waiting rn for eve to finish up who is taking extra long 😭 keeps dancing around reader in her underwear while giggling eienekek

adam wants to be in the changing room because lute forgot something in there. sees reader and eve. his first instinct is of course to peep. disappointed reader isn’t in underwear 😔

nearly has a heart attack when he sees eve kiss reader. happy to see reader turns her face so eves lips crash into her cheek instead of the lips. but eve can easily hug you and press her plush body against your own while you always scatter away from adam

eve is observant and spots adam. because she already has a suspicion that he’s emotional constipated as always when it comes to reader she just ramps up the affection she usually showers reader in. eves lips are on your neck while you’re giggling about how it tickles while she tries to slide her hands up your shirt and you keep pushing her hands away with a laugh. totally just gals being pals

i always like imagine eve and adam inbetween readers legs fighting over who can put their mouths first on reader. reader just uncomfortable because well eve actually liking reader was excepted but adam?!?!? having adam groan out a „such a pretty girl“ BSIAJAJSKSJ

adam and eve have to share and somewhat get along. if they keep fighting all the time they lose focus on what’s important (reader). they’re hissing at each other and then reader is talking to new people and they’re like. actually lets form an alliance 🫱🏽‍🫲🏿 because adam and eve is all you need! eve can even get adam to apologise to you!! he will be much much nicer trust her

they’re both so horribly obsessive and possessive i need them BADD

#cw yandere #ask #adam.thoughts #eve.thoughts

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brainddeadd · 2 months ago

Text

Six: Rebuilding and Reconnecting

The fight changed things—not in a bad way, but in a way that made you both more aware of how much this relationship mattered. Luke wasn’t perfect, but he was trying. And so were you.

He became more intentional with his time—sending you sweet texts before practice, FaceTiming you from hotel rooms on away trips, and surprising you with flowers and takeout when you least expected it.

You stopped overthinking every canceled plan or late call, choosing to believe in the connection you had rather than your fears.

The two of you found your rhythm again, like skating on freshly resurfaced ice.

A Trip to the Arena

One cold winter afternoon, Luke texted you with a surprise: Luke: Meet me at the rink? I’ve got something planned.

When you arrived, you found him waiting at center ice, dressed in his practice gear. A wide grin spread across his face when he saw you.

“You ready for your private skating lesson, Sunflower?” he teased, tossing you a pair of skates.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “You really want me to fall on my ass in front of you, huh?”

He laughed, helping you lace up your skates. “Not a chance. I’ll catch you.”

And he did. Every wobble, every slip—Luke was right there, his hands steady around your waist, pulling you upright.

Eventually, you found yourself skating in sync with him, your fingers tangled with his. Under the glow of the arena lights, it felt like the rest of the world melted away, leaving only the two of you.

When you finally stopped, breathless from laughter, Luke pulled you close. “You’re getting pretty good at this,” he murmured, brushing a kiss to your temple.

You grinned. “Must be the world-class instructor.”

He chuckled, tucking a stray hair behind your ear. “Or maybe I just got really lucky with the student.”

The Night It Became Forever

Weeks later, after one of Luke’s games, the two of you celebrated with a late-night beach walk. It was freezing, but you didn’t care—his arm around your shoulders and the sound of the waves were more than enough to keep you warm.

The moonlight reflected off the water as you strolled in comfortable silence, Marley trotting happily beside you.

Luke suddenly stopped, turning to face you with a look you’d never seen before—nervous but determined. “I’ve been thinking a lot,” he began, shoving his hands in his pockets. “And I want you to know… I see a future with you.”

Your breath caught. “A future?”

He nodded, stepping closer. “Yeah. I mean, I know it’s early, but I’ve never felt this way before. And I don’t want to just date you, Sunflower. I want it all—everything. You, me, forever.”

Tears welled in your eyes. You could feel the sincerity in every word he spoke.

“I want that too,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

Luke grinned, pulling you into a fierce hug. “Good,” he murmured against your hair. “Because I’m not letting you go.”

Facing the Future Together

Over the next few months, life continued to throw challenges your way, but you and Luke faced them as a team.

When the media attention got overwhelming, Luke was quick to defend you. “They don’t know how lucky I am to have you,” he would say, brushing off rumors and speculation like they were nothing.

When the long-distance stretches during the season got tough, you found new ways to stay connected—sending each other care packages, planning surprise visits, and leaving silly voice memos that never failed to make each other laugh.

Every time life got hard, Luke proved that he was in it for the long haul. And you? You showed him that love didn’t have to be perfect to be real.

The Proposal

One day, after a particularly beautiful win, Luke took you back to the arena—the place where everything had truly started.

With the ice rink empty and the lights dimmed, he dropped to one knee, holding out a small velvet box.

Your heart stopped.

“I know it’s sudden,” Luke said, his voice soft but certain. “But I’ve known since the moment I met you—before I even knew your name—that you were it for me. And I don’t want to wait any longer.”

Tears filled your eyes as you stared down at him, this man who had become your home.

“So… what do you say?” he asked, his smile nervous but hopeful. “Will you marry me?”

For a moment, you couldn’t speak, your heart too full. But then you found your voice, a joyful laugh spilling from your lips.

“Yes,” you whispered, throwing your arms around his neck. “A thousand times, yes.”

Luke’s relieved laugh echoed through the empty rink as he stood, spinning you in his arms. And when he kissed you, it felt like the perfect ending to one story—and the perfect beginning to another.

Happily Ever After

From that moment on, life was a whirlwind of wedding plans, laughter, and late-night dance parties in the kitchen.

Your love wasn’t perfect—it was messy and complicated and beautifully real. But it was yours.

And as you stood hand-in-hand with Luke, ready to face whatever the future held, you knew one thing for sure:

Happily ever after isn’t about perfection. It’s about finding someone who sees every piece of you—the good, the bad, the broken—and chooses to stay.

And Luke Hughes? He chose you, every single day.

#luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagines #luke hughes fanfic #° braindead writes

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onceuponaoneshotfanfic · 2 years ago

Text

Paris (Superstar Chapter 5)

I'm so in love that I might stop breathing

Drew a map on your bedroom ceiling

No, I didn't see the news

'Cause we were somewhere else

Privacy sign on the door

And on my page and on the whole world

Romance is not dead if you keep it just yours

Roy and the Reader continue to see each other in secret while the AFC Richmond goes on a road trip.

Roy Kent x Reader

6.2k words

Warnings: Language, suggestive references, mentions of adults drinking adult drinks, Roy Kent showing lots of green flags, fluff because boy did I need it after the last couple chapters

“Don’t fucking go,” Roy grumbled, grabbing a fistful of the too-big Richmond shirt I wore and pulling me back towards him.

“Just getting some water,” I murmured, trying to wiggle out of his grasp.

Moonlight made his skin glow pale as he started to sit up, groaning quietly. “Lemme get it for you.”

I pushed his chest back down, my fingertips brushing against thick hair. “I’ll be right back,” I huffed with a giggle. I pressed a hard, sloppy kiss to his lips before climbing out of his bed, tugging at the hem of the shirt he’d given me to wear in place of proper pyjamas.

Despite my drowsiness, I practically skipped down the stairs, my heart full of something I wasn’t quite ready to name yet. After we’d had a good talk about everything that happened at the fundraiser and what we wanted out of our newly established relationship, Roy had pulled out a homemade chocolate dessert to share, and things had escalated in ways that made me blush to think about.

A mumbled love song lingered on my lips as I opened and closed cupboards to find a cup I could use, straining to see in the dark. The glowing green numbers on the stove read 3:56. Perfect. That was plenty of time before I had to head home and get ready for brunch with Keeley and Rebecca. I could go back to bed and cuddle and maybe even wake up Roy for another round-

“Good mornin’.”

“Fuck!” I shrieked, trying to pull down Roy’s shirt to cover my lower half as a bright light shone on me. I squinted at the figure across the kitchen. “Jamie?!”

Jamie Tartt stood there, dressed for a run and wearing a shining light on his head. “Er, is Roy home?” Even in the dark, I could see him trying to avert his eyes from my figure. “We’re supposed to go for a run. I let myself in, sometimes he forgets to lock his side door…”

My entire body burned with embarrassment. “I, um, I-” I tried desperately to think of a reason, some excuse, to explain why I was half naked in Roy Kent’s kitchen, but nothing came to me.

“Oi! Tartt!” Roy stormed down the stairs, still in the sweatpants he’d worn to bed. “The fuck d’you think you’re doing here?” he bellowed as he flipped on the kitchen light. “I fucking texted you to run on your own today.”

Jamie’s mouth formed a perfect O as Roy towered over him. “Shit, I lost my phone at the party on Friday. Think one of the papps nicked it. Keeley’s picking me up a new one today after brunch.” He shrugged. “Sorry, Coach.”

Roy’s face and whole chest were red with rage. “Well now you fucking know. So get the fuck out.” His eyes landed on me as I tried to strategically hide myself behind the kitchen island. He glared back at Jamie. “And don’t fucking tell anyone about this. Or I’ll slice your prick off, have it properly taxidermized, and give it to Keeley as a fucking Christmas gift.”

“We’re just trying to keep things private for a bit,” I clarified to Jamie, who still looked confused. “This… thing is still new, and we’d just like to not tell everyone at work yet.”

Jamie nodded, blinking a few times. “Nah, I geddit. Don’t need the other gaffers and the guys givin’ you shit.” He gave a small salute to Roy. “See you Monday, Coach.” Then he shot finger-guns at me. “And you have fun with Keeley later, yeah? I promise I won’t tell her about-” He pointed back and forth between Roy and me. “-this thing.”

Roy shadowed Jamie all the way from the kitchen to the front door, slamming it shut behind the player. When he came back into the kitchen, his face instantly softened. “Sorry ’bout that,” he grumbled, rubbing his tired eyes. “Fuckin’ Jamie Tartt, losing his fucking-”

I approached Roy and wrapped my arms around his middle, blushing at the feeling of his bare skin. “Don’t worry about it,” I assured him. “I highly doubt Jamie’ll tell anyone. That threat of yours was painfully vivid.”

Roy’s body relaxed against mine as he wrapped an arm lazily around my shoulders, pulling me close so he could plant a kiss on the top of my head. “I know a real good taxidermist, too,” he grunted.

“Lovely,” I snorted, lifting my head to look up at Roy’s face. We exchanged sleepy smiles. “Hi,” I hummed.

“Hi,” he whispered. He bent his head towards me, touching his lips to mine so softly I could barely feel them. “Wanna go back to bed? Get a bit more sleep before you gotta head home?”

My cheeks warmed as I gazed back up at him, my heart purring. “I wanna go to back to bed,” I began slowly. “But… I don’t want to sleep.”

Roy’s eyebrows flew up. “In that case-” He lifted me and threw me over his shoulder, giving me a light smack on my butt as he carried me back upstairs, my squeals of laughter echoing throughout the house.

It took all my strength to pry Roy’s muscular arms off me later that morning. He proposed that I cancel on Keeley and made several other suggestions about how I could spend my time, all of which had me red in the face and rolling my eyes as I gathered my clothes off his bedroom floor.

Roy Kent is absolutely smitten with me, I hummed to myself as I drove to brunch, my mobile vibrating to let me know that Roy Kent⚽ was texting me for the dozenth time since I’d left his house that morning, asking me to change my mind and come back. After finding a parking, I silenced my text notifications, not wanting to give either of my friends an opening to ask why in the world my officemate was texting me so obsessively on my day off.

Heading into brunch. Call you after I typed as I walked towards the restaurant, not bothering to hide the wide grin on my face.

“Ooh, is someone sending you a dirty picture?” I jumped as Keeley hooked her arm through mine. “Is it Roy?”

I quickly stuffed my phone into my purse, hoping she hadn’t seen the number of heart-emojis on the screen. “Ha. Hello to you too, Keeley.”

Keeley kissed my cheek as we entered the restaurant. “Come on, I need all the details,” she demanded. “Please, I’m dying!”

We quickly found Rebecca and settled in with drinks and food. The conversation almost immediately turned to Rebecca’s party, which she declared a success.

“Oh, but what about…” Keeley nodded to me. “You know…”

Rebecca raised her eyebrows as she swallowed the champagne she’d been drinking. “What? Did I miss something?”

Before I could explain in a way that didn’t worry my boss, Keeley leaned forward. “Okay, Roy thought that Richard had done something, you know, unseemly to this one.” She waggled her eyebrows and nodded towards me. “So, Roy tried to actually murder Richard, and Jamie and I took them to a side room so they wouldn’t cause a scene- yes, I know, I’m a great PR person, you’re very welcome- and these two-” Another nod towards me. “-had some weird, very sexy energy between them. Then they were alone in that room for a while and when they came out Roy actually danced. Twice.” Keeley smirked at me. “Let me repeat, Roy Kent danced.”

Rebecca’s eyebrows flew higher and higher with each word out of Keeley’s mouth. She gawked at me. “Holy shit, are you and Roy shagging?” she gasped.

“I mean this with all due respect because you’re my boss, but sod off, Rebecca,” I grumbled. “Keeley’s exaggerating. There was a misunderstanding with Richard, Roy was a tad drunk and got carried away trying to be protective, we calmed him down, and he was a perfect gentleman to me, his friend.” Girlfriend, girlfriend, girlfriend.

“Don’t listen to her Rebecca,” Keeley teased. “She’s completely in love with Roy and he’s just as smitten. In fact, Jamie was telling me-”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. “What did Jamie say?” I tried to keep my voice even and my face uninterested; deep down, I knew I was failing. There is no way Jamie would tell her. No fucking way.

Keeley smiled; she knew she was winning this game. “Just that you and Roy are always holed up in your office together. He brings you lunch all the time. Sometimes gives you a ride home from work. And Jamie swears that Roy’s been less brutal during their training since the day you started at Richmond.”

Rebecca nodded. “I can’t help but notice that you two are practically attached at the hip at work,” she added sheepishly.

“Well, yeah, Roy says I give him a break from having to talk to Ted and Beard all day.” They didn’t need to know that he’d mumbled that while half-asleep in bed that morning.

Keeley was now completely smug. “The man’s in love with you,” she declared with finality.

I rolled my eyes. “It’s called friendship, Jones. Try it sometime.”

“It’s called romance, babe. And you and Roy Kent should try it sometime.”

“How about Much Ado About Nothing? With Emma Thompson?”

“Fuck no!” bellowed Roy from the couch as I walked back into his living room, carrying a beer for each of us.

I rolled my eyes. “Come on Roy, a little Shakespeare won’t kill you.”

He sat up, baring his teeth at me. “I fucking hate Kenneth Branagh,” he growled, accepting the beer I handed him. “With his fucking around on Emma Thompson. What a prick. The woman’s a treasure.”

“Oh.” I stared at him for a moment, ever amazed at the things that flew out of his mouth. “So, do you hate Helena Bonham Carter as well then?”

Roy shook his head, making room for me on the couch. “Nah. Emma Thompson and her made up. No bad blood there.” He took a sip of his beer. “But fuck Branagh.”

“But Emma’s in Much Ado,” I pointed out as I plopped down. “And Keanu Reeves. You can’t let Branagh ruin it.” Roy rolled his eyes. “How about this,” I offered. “Emma Thompson double feature. Much Ado About Nothing, followed by Sense and Sensibility. That way you get to see her win an Oscar and meet the love of her life Greg Wise.”

“Hmmf.” Roy narrowed his eyes at me, debating my proposal. Finally, he settled into the couch, wrapping an arm lazily around my waist to pull me back with him. “Alright. I could go for some Jane Austen. On with the fucking Branagh movie then.”

Satisfied, I grabbed the remote to Roy’s massive television and found the movie. As soon as Emma Thompson appeared in the opening scene, I laid down my beer picked up my work laptop from the coffee table and opened it. Roy groaned louder than usual beside me.

“Fuck, are you really doing work right now?”

“Sorry, someone’s got to double check the reservations for the Paris game.” AFC Richmond would be playing in an exhibition against a French club team, and Rebecca had tasked me with making sure the lodging was all arranged. I suspected it was mostly because I had casually mentioned taking one French class in school, but it was nice to have responsibilities besides editing the grammar on Coach Lasso’s tweets and returning Coach Beard’s library books.

There was a small pressure on my shoulder. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Roy leaning on me, his eyes skimming the room arrangements spreadsheet on my screen. “Oi, I think there’s been a mistake,” he hummed. “You’re in room 218, and I’m in room 222. Shouldn’t I be in 218 too? Would help save a few pounds.” He raised an eyebrow at me, not bothering to hide the grin on his face.

Unable to resist, I planted a kiss on his scruff. “Or, I could let the club pay for the rooms, and if you want to see me, you can put in the effort of sneaking down the hall like a gentleman.” I raised an eyebrow at him. “Unless you want to announce to the whole club that we’re dating, and Ted can spend the whole trip calling us his OTP and making comments about being in the City of Love.”

Roy was clearly weighing his options as he stared at me. Finally, with a sigh of defeat, he put his beer on an end table leaned back onto the cushions. “Fine. Just make sure you slip me a key to your room. I’m not going to be standing in a hotel hallway knocking like some fuckin’ creep.”

I rolled my eyes. “Sure.” I made myself a note to ask for two keys for every room; less suspicious than just asking for myself. “Any other requests?” I asked dryly.

“Hmm.” Roy feigned thinking. “Throwing Jamie Tartt off the top of the Eiffel Tower might be a fun team-building activity. Montlaur too while we’re at it.”

“Thought you were over that,” I hummed, checking my confirmation email from the hotel and using Google Translate to make sure I didn’t misunderstand anything.

Roy shrugged, his hand lightly grazing my hip. “Still don’t like the way that prick looks at you.”

I snorted as I sent Rebecca the confirmation email and room assignments for her approval. “And what way would that be?”

“The way I look at you.”

Email sent, I closed my laptop and returned it to the coffee table. “Roy,” I said slowly, straddling his lap and taking his face in my hands. “No one has ever looked at me the way you do.” I kissed his neck tenderly. “Besides, why would you want to waste your time in Paris on Jamie and Montlaur? Wouldn’t you rather be with me?”

“So, you’re saying we can skip going to fucking Paris and just spend the weekend here?” His nose nudged my cheek. “I’ll even let you put on more Kenneth Branagh movies.”

“Oh, hell no,” I scoffed, sliding off his lap and leaning back to watch the movie that had gone ignored during our conversation. “You are not talking me out of a free trip to Paris.”

“Alright, so I’ve got some Albert Camus for Beard, sudoku for Ted, and a sleep mask for Roy.” The coaches held their hands out for their requested road trip items. I held tight to the hardcover copy of The Stranger that Beard reached for. “No writing in the margins,” I ordered. “Library says you can’t do that anymore.”

He rolled his eyes and took the book. “Fine.”

Ted smiled as I handed him the book of sudoku puzzles I’d picked up on my way to work. “Thank you so much,” he gushed. “This is real sweet of you to get these little presents for us. We might have to start callin’ you Willy Wonka.”

I shrugged. “Honestly, no problem, Coach. We’ve got a long trip ahead, might as well enjoy it.” I just don’t want to play “I spy” all the way to Paris. I turned to Roy. “And sleep mask, as requested.”

His eyes narrowed as he took the sleep mask out of my hands. “It’s pink,” he grumbled.

“Goes well with your eyes,” I answered cooly.

Roy glanced around, making sure the other coaches were out of earshot. “Is this from your fucking nightstand?” he hissed, biting back a laugh.

I shrugged, now completely grinning. “Yeah, I was hoping you’d recognize it.” I playfully batted my eyelashes at Roy. “You’re gonna wear it on the bus, right?”

The man was seriously fighting a smile. “Maybe,” he growled quietly.

Before I could make another flirty comment, Ted came back, rubbing his hands together happily. “Alright ya’ll, should we get these puppies onboard this puppy?”

Roy sighed and turned around, glaring at the players who were milling around the parking lot while Will finished loading their luxury-brand luggage onto the team bus. “Whistle!” he shouted, getting their attention. “Oi! Get your asses onboard now, or else you can fucking walk to France!”

When the Paris exhibition game was first announced, Rebecca had planned on everyone just flying; it was the team, particularly Sam and Jamie, who insisted that a six-hour drive would be fun. Part of me was not looking forward to six hours on the road, but knowing I’d spend those six hours next to Roy made it bearable.

I nudged Roy as we watched the team load onto the bus. “Sit with me?” I whispered.

“Like you even have to fucking ask,” he muttered out of the corner of his mouth, gesturing for me to climb aboard.

An hour later, we were on the road, and the boys had finally gotten sick of singing “Richmond Til We Die”, much to Roy’s relief. Now they were all having their own conversations, or listening to music, or watching movies on their phones. The quiet time meant that the coaches and I could finally chat at the table at the back of the bus. As usual, Roy sat next to me and spread himself out a little bit, his thigh pressed against mine and our arms brushing; he often did this “manspreading” at meetings as a way to have physical contact without drawing suspicion.

“Alright, so lay that schedule on us,” Ted was saying as he tossed a handful of the trail mix I’d packed for him into his mouth. “What’s on the itinerary, Ben and Jerry?”

Unable to resist cracking a grin at his little rhyme, I opened the document on my tablet. “So, once we arrive, we’ll have a team meeting to go over strategy with the boys, followed by team dinner at a local restaurant, Rebecca and Higgins’ll join us for that, and then movie night.” A shiver went down my spine as I fent Roy’s knuckle graze my arm. “It’s all arranged with the hotel. Then tomorrow, team breakfast at the hotel and head to the stadium for the game. And after the game everyone’s on their own until we meet at ten the next morning to come back to Richmond.”

Ted smiled. “And the movie is set to go?” Despite the publicity surrounding the exhibition game, the man absolutely knew what his priorities were.

We quickly finished confirming the team’s plans for the trip, with Ted making a few jokes about eating fries and frog legs and toast. The entire time, Roy strategically pressed himself close to me, making me want to finish our meeting so he and I could retreat to our usual seats together, where we could stealthily hold hands between our seats. Instead of dismissing us, though, Ted announced that he had one more topic to chat about; Roy groaned loudly, but a sharp look from me shut him up.

Beard cleared his throat. “So, we’re currently looking very seriously at this Spanish player, Dario Vargas. Skilled striker. Would be a great asset to us.”

“And he’s actually going to be in Paris at the same time as us,” Ted explained. He turned to me. “D’you think you could find a good place for me and Rebecca to have dinner with him tomorrow after the game? We’re hopin’ to wine and dine ’im and reel in the big fish before we head home.”

“Sure, Ted,” I assured him, starting a search on my tablet. “Dario Vargas….” I cocked my head at the men. “Why do I know that name?”

Coach Beard sat up a little. “Well, he’s been a pretty big name on a couple of Italian and French teams in the last few years. So maybe you’ve seen his name on a sports network or something?”

No, that wasn’t it. This guy’s name was so familiar, but I didn’t associate it with football. For some reason, his name made knots begin to appear in my stomach, and I didn’t like it.

“Hmm, maybe,” I agreed, wanting to end the meeting already. “Anything else?” Roy growled beside me.

Ted shook his head, all smiles. “Nope. We’re all set, Mookie Betts.” He nodded to Roy. “You can go take a nap now.”

“Fuckin’ finally,” he grumbled, jumping up. Internally, I rolled my eyes at his dramatics.

About fifteen minutes later, I had Ted’s reservation settled and could put my work away. With a sigh, I collapsed in my seat next to Roy, who was indeed wearing my sleep mask. I pulled out my phone, quickly typing a text complaining to Keeley about her decision to stay home from the trip.

A hand brushed against my thigh. When I glanced up, Roy had lifted my sleep mask slightly and was staring at me from under it. “Oi, what fucking movie are you making us watch tonight?”

“Bridget Jones’s Diary,” I answered as my mobile vibrated, letting me know Keeley had sent me a reply. “It’s one of my favorites.”

The sleep mask was now entirely lifted and resting on top of Roy’s head. “Because you fancy that wanker Hugh Grant?”

A snort flew out of my mouth. “Colin Firth, actually.” I glanced at the words on my screen; Keeley was suggesting that I ask Roy about his baguette. In return, I sent her several middle finger emojis.

“You like that whole Mr. Darcy shit?”

I rolled my eyes; Roy was talking as if he hadn’t just been completely invested as he watched the five-hour miniseries of Pride and Prejudice with me a couple days ago. “Yes, I like that whole Mr. Darcy shit. Have you seen Pemberly?”

“No wonder you like my house,” he muttered, grinning. His eyes flickered to my phone. “Why’s Keeley sending you so many eggplant emojis?”

“No, I like you very much. Just as you are,” Colin Firth said to Renee Zellweger onscreen.

In the back row of the hotel conference room turned private theater, I let out a breathy sigh. Roy eyed me carefully, the lights from the screen playing on his face.

“You like this?” he whispered, barely audible.

I nodded. “I like anything Colin Firth says,” I answered.

He narrowed his eyes at me. “And the grand gesture shit?”

“Obsessed,” I replied, grinning.

“Good to know,” he muttered, slumping in his seat a bit, his knee knocking into mine. He leaned over once more. “What’re you doing after this?”

I craned my neck to make sure everyone was preoccupied by whatever antics Bridget Jones was getting herself into. “Going to bed, probably. Yourself?”

A smirk graced the face I always found myself thinking about. “Probably going to your bed.”

Sure enough, I woke up the next morning curled up in Roy’s arms. It had quickly become my favorite way to start my day: turning around and seeing that bearded face still half asleep, tracing shapes on his arm as he squeezed me a bit tighter to himself, and murmuring sweet nothings back and forth before starting our day.

The light coming through the space in the curtains told me that we didn’t have much time before Roy had to sneak back to his own room before the team started milling around the halls and heading to breakfast. And my mobile ringing on the nightstand told me that I wouldn’t even get to enjoy the time we did have.

“Hello?” I grumbled into the phone, giving a small stretch as Roy stirred beside me.

“Good morning, darling!”

The sound of my mother’s voice had me scrambling to sit up and cover myself with the blankets, as if she could see the way I had turned Roy’s black shirt into pyjamas. “Morning Mum,” I blurted out. “What’s up?”

“I’m sorry it’s so early, I just wanted to catch you before you get busy. How’s Paris?” Her voice was nonchalant, oblivious to the scene on my end of the call.

I cleared my throat as Roy began to wake up, squinting up at me with a scowl on his face. “It’s great, Mum,” I answered, raising my eyebrows at Roy, who nodded in understanding. “Text me what you want me to bring you as a little souvenir, yeah?”

“Sure, love.” In the background, I could hear dishes clanging; she was probably getting breakfast ready.

“So, everything’s good? The team’s treating you well?”

My hand rested on Roy’s arm as I completely sat up and leaned against the headboard. “Yeah, they’re great. They’re basically big kids, really.”

“And the gaffers?”

Roy turned over to wrap his arm around my waist, gazing up at me with a sleepy grin. “Very nice,” I assured her.

“And how’s Roy?”

I nearly choked. “Roy?” I repeated, shoving his arm off me.

She chuckled into the phone. “Yes, Roy. You know, tall, brooding, handsome, football star. Photos of him all over your walls since his Chelsea days. Disappeared upstairs with you at Dad’s birthday dinner. That Roy.”

Roy tapped my shoulder, tiredness all over his face. “Can you ask your mum when I can come over for dinner again? That was some of the best fucking pasta I’ve ever had.”

There was a long silence on the other end of the line while I swallowed hard. There was no way my mother didn’t hear Roy. And she was definitely capable of recognizing that it was way too early for me to have company. Finally, whisper came from her end: “Is that Roy?”

The options weighed in my head. Flat-out lying and telling my mum that she was crazy, that she’d just heard the television, no way was Roy Kent in my hotel room, was probably not an option. She’d had dinner with the guy; she knew his voice. There was always telling her that the team was getting together for an early-morning breakfast, but the room was too silent to believe twenty-something football players were horsing around a hotel dining room.

That only left me with one choice: the truth.

“Yeah, Mum, that’s Roy,” I admitted, biting my lip.

To my surprise, she laughed. “Well, I’ll be! I was wondering what happened after Dad’s dinner. You hadn’t mentioned any other fellas in a while.” She paused thoughtfully. “Does he treat you well?”

Her voice was softer than I’d ever heard. “I’m so glad, darling. When you’re back from Paris, we’ll have the two of you over for dinner. No birthdays this time.”

My gaze fell to Roy, who was watching me curiously, eyebrows raised. His eyes were full of the adoration I had quickly gotten used to as his fingers traced circles on my hip. “Really well,” I promised my mum, smiling down at Roy. “The best, actually.”

Relief and joy filled my chest. “That would be great, Mum. Roy’d love that. He still asks about that pasta you made for Dad’s birthday.” Roy smiled at the mention of the food he’d been bothering me about since the dinner in question. “Listen, I gotta go, we’ve got some team things to do before the game. But I’ll send you and Dad pictures, and I’ll call you when I’m back in town, alright?”

We said our goodbyes and hung up. When I placed my phone back on the nightstand, Roy was sitting up, watching me carefully.

“You told your mum about us,” he observed quietly. The look in his eyes was unreadable.

I pulled my knees to my chest, nodding. “Hope that’s okay,” I murmured. “I… I hadn’t planned on telling my folks yet. But I know they won’t tell anyone til we tell them we’re ready.”

To my surprise, Roy leaned over and planted a kiss on my cheek. “Of course it’s okay. Just promise me one thing.”

I leaned my head against his, nodding earnestly. “Anything.”

“Get me that damn pasta recipe.”

The game went magnificently. The French club had a stellar reputation, but the Greyhounds were up to the challenge. Two remarkable assists from Jamie, incredible goals each from Sam and Colin, and an unbelievable penalty kick from Dani led to a Richmond victory.

Back at the hotel lobby, the boys made plans to go out on the town to celebrate, with Richard taking the reigns thanks to his own experiences in the city. Ted and Rebecca bowed out to go to the dinner reservations I’d made for them and the player they were trying to court, and Beard had already left to meet his girlfriend who had made the last-minute decision to fly in that afternoon to spend the evening together.

That just left me and Roy.

“You didn’t want to go out with them, did you?” he asked quietly as we watched the guys debate where to start their night.

I shrugged. “They invited me,” I admitted. “But someone had given me instructions to pack that red dress I’d worn to the charity ball, so I was hoping I had plans tonight already.”

Sneaking another glance at the team, who slowly made their way back up to their rooms to change into their clubbing outfits, Roy slipped me a piece of paper, scrawled on in his sloppy handwriting. “Go outside at eight. There’ll be a car waiting for you. Give the driver this address.” He paused, his eyes flickering to my mouth for a brief moment. “Wear the red dress,” he added.

“Aye, aye Coach,” I agreed, shooting him a puzzled grin. With a short growl, Roy turned and walked out of the lobby, leaving me with the paper in my hands and several questions in my head.

At eight on the dot, I made my way down from my room to the lobby. With the red dress and heels on, as well as the inordinate amount of time I’d spent on my hair and makeup, and a night in Paris ahead of me, I felt a bit like a movie star. A few of the guys were lingering in the lobby, waiting for the group to assemble. They waved when they saw me and called out compliments; I even heard a joking wolf-whistle from Colin.

“Thanks guys!” I called out as I approached them. “You guys going to get into some trouble?”

“You comin’ out with us?” Isaac asked, gesturing to the group. “Richard’s got a great night planned for us. We’ll all take turns dancing with you and you won’t have to buy a single drink, it’s all on us.”

Dani winked. “Unless you ditch us for a French guy and we don’t see you until mañana.”

“I don’t think Roy would like that very much,” Richard chirped, cackling to himself.

The guys all turned and glared at him, hissing at him to shut up and reminding him that we all agreed not to tease her and giving him a warning that Roy’s going to kill you.

I cleared my throat, hoping they’d assume the blush on my cheeks was just makeup. “Um, I’m sorry, what’s happening?”

The guys all looked at each other helplessly before Colin finally spoke up. “We just all noticed there’s a bit of… tension between you and Roy? The good kind,” he added quickly. “We all totally ship it.” There was a murmur of agreement among the team.

Jamie cleared his throat. “Come on guys, leave ’er alone. They’re friends. Roy’d murder all of ya if he heard the way you’re talking.” He smiled at me. “You, go. Have a good night, whatever you end up doin’.” The wink Jamie shot me had me wondering if he knew what awaited me once I walked out of the hotel.

After wishing each other good evenings, I left the team and headed outside. Indeed, there was a black car waiting for me with a driver, uniform and hat and all. He nodded at me as I approached.

“Mr. Kent’s friend?” he asked, smiling.

“Um, yes,” I confirmed, pulling the piece of paper out of my clutch. “He said to give you this.”

The driver took the paper and opened the door for me. “If you’re ready.”

I gazed out the window as we drove, glancing down at my mobile every few minutes. I had sent Roy a text when I got in the car to let him know I was on my way, and all I got was a thumbs-up emoji. While part of me was enjoying the mystery of it all, I couldn't help but feel nervous. Where was he taking me? Some small café on the outskirts of the city where no one would notice us? Another hotel, where we could actually share a room? Wherever it was, it would probably be somewhere dark and quiet where we could hide in a corner.

Instead, we slowly pulled into a parking structure. Fuck, maybe Will was right when he told me he thinks Roy might be a serial killer.

The driver parked and turned to me. “We’re here,” he announced, although I couldn’t figure out where “here” was.

“Er, thanks,” I mumbled as I opened the car door. “Will you wait here or…?”

“’m not going to kill you,” a familiar growl called out.

There was Roy, hands in his pockets, standing under the light of the parking structure. He wore the same black suit he’d worn at the gala; if he was a serial killer, he was the most attractive one in history. He smiled and waved me over.

Click, click, click went my heels on the sidewalk as I approached him. He reached out and took my hand before planting a firm kiss on my lips.

“Roy, where are we-”

“Just watch,” he chuckled as he led the way. The street was shockingly empty, considering this was Paris of all places.

Before I could ask Roy any more questions, we turned a corner and my heart jumped into my throat. “Roy, is that-”

“Yeah, that’s the fucking Louvre.”

I stopped dead in my tracks. “What’re we doing at the Louvre?” I asked incredulously.

Roy rolled his eyes and tugged me onwards towards the lit-up pyramid. “Stealing the Mona Lisa.”

“Roy.”

A smile graced his face. “Having dinner. Happy?”

I shook my head, my mind spinning. “How… I mean what… Holy shit…”

“Sometimes being a retired footballer comes in handy,” he joked. “I called a guy, wrote a check, and they closed the most famous museum in the world for us.” He shrugged. “No big deal.” The sparkle in his eye told me that no, he wanted me to think that this was a big deal.

Which it absolutely fucking was.

We made our way into the museum, with the security guard tipping his hat to us and greeting “Mr. Kent”. Our steps echoed on the marble floor as we walked from room to room, Roy never letting to of my hand. He pointed out a few paintings as we walked, softly sharing the names of artists he particularly liked.

Roy Kent likes art, I thought to myself. Every new thing I learned about the man made my heart fall a little bit further in… No, don’t say that yet, I scolded myself, trying to focus on the name Roy was whispering to me now.

We finally arrived in the room that held the most recognizable painting in history: the Mona Lisa. But my eyes were drawn away from her and to the table that had been set up and the waiter who stood beside it. I looked at Roy.

“We’re having dinner with the Mona Lisa?” I hissed.

He shrugged and led me to the table, pulling my chair out for me. “Hope that’s okay.”

It was more than okay. It was the most romantic thing I’d ever heard of, probably the most grand gesture I’d ever seen.

“When’d you set this up?” I asked as the waiter poured two glasses of champagne.

Roy cleared his throat and bobbed his head a bit, a nervous habit I now knew well. “Late last night,” he mumbled.

I narrowed my eyes at him, a smirk on my lips. “Before or after Bridget Jones?”

“After,” he growled, pink tinting his cheeks. “Satisfied?”

My smile grew. “So, after we watched Bridget Jones and you asked me what I thought of grand gestures, you went and planned the grandest gesture of all time?”

A laugh escaped his lips. “I take it this is more impressive than Pemberly?”

“Much more impressive,” I confirmed, taking a sip of champagne. “Thank you, Roy.”

He leaned forward and laid a hand on top of mine. “Well, I figured we should celebrate.”

Now it was my turn to blush. “What’re we celebrating? Not today’s win, I assume.”

“Fuck no.” He took a deep breath and gave my hand a squeeze. “I just figured that the longest relationship I’ve ever been in is worth celebrating.”

Numbers flew in my head as I quickly did the math. “But Roy, we’ve only been-”

He shook his head. “It has been four months and six days since your dad’s birthday. I know it’s not the official day we got together or anything, but I figured it's…” He shrugged, trailing off. His eyes were begging me not to laugh at him or tell him he was wrong.

As if I could.

“Something worth celebrating,” I repeated, lifting my champagne.

Roy smiled and lifted his own glass, tapping it to mine with a clink. “To really fucking liking each other.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “To really fucking liking each other.”

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