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heartfullofleeches · 2 years

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Grand Prize: Yandere Show Host x Reader

Summary: A road trip leads to you becoming a guest on a radio game show. What could possibly go wrong

Tw: scoptophobia, body horror

word count:4.7k

Dread. The single, perfect word to describe how you felt as you tightly gripped your steering wheel. The wide open roads singled you out, tossed further into the sea of obscurity with each bump you hit. You can’t recall how it happened; one wrong turn leading you to current turmoil. You were lost – sure of it. Lost, and the only way back on track was with the assistance of another – if you’d ever came across anyone.

A few weeks prior, you had won a luxurious vacation for a weeks day at some fancy resort. Most likely a company thing; given you don’t recall signing up for it and you received the news at work. One moment you’re doing your job, and the next your hands were clasped by a strange man with an iron grip and a flashy smile – congratulating you on the win. Due to some error on their end, you had to get there on your own with a car provided by them. This wasn’t a terrible deal since the drive was only twelve hours and you were allowed to keep the car – until your phone died and you had to rely on your own navigation skills.

You remain on lookout for any place to receive directions, the last fifty miles was nothing but mountains and desolate side roads. As luck would have it, you eventually spot a sign for a diner a few kilometers ahead. You make a beeline for the exit as it approaches; the smooth asphalt road fading into bumpy gravel and dirt.

You drive down a narrow path till you reach the establishment; walls painted a faded orange. The air stood still despite the dust filled parking area, time frozen in the mid hours of day. You park in one of the many vacant spots and head for the door. A bell’s chime signals your arrival; multiple heads turning in your direction including the lone waiter tending to another guest.

“I'll be with you in just a second! Take any seat you’d like.”

You do as told, sitting in a booth by a window. A TV hung overhead, images fading in and out through a fog of static. What you could see seemed to be a reading of lottery numbers; the announcer an ink blot in a suit beside the bold lettering. Aside from you, there's less than a dozen people in the diner. An older couple, a group of young adults around your age or older, and so on. All were enamored with their own lives, chatting amongst each other while they waited. A few eyes glanced your way, but you paid little mind.

Although the place was far from packed, the next time you see the waiter they’re carrying multiple orders. Balancing the plates, they have no time to figure out whose order is whose, calling out to the others as an alternative. In the commotion, they nearly trip over their own feet and send food flying – something you notice and decide to help with.

“Can I help you?” You ask, bracing your arms beneath one of the trays as they regain balance.

“Y-yes. Thank you.” Clearly flustered, the waiter hands off one of the trays to you – pointing in the direction of its table. You set it down and return to your own table to wait for them to finish. Finally, they reach you, pen in hand and a soft smile on their face. They place a number stand on the table; the number is scratched but still somewhat eligible.

“Thanks again for your help. What can I get for you?”

“Actually, I was hoping if you could help me with some directions?”

“Oh, sure. If you can wait a minute, I’m about to go on break.”

Once their break begins, you discuss the directions and other things that come by in passing. You, your trip and them, their life in the town not too far beyond the diner. Jamie, as their nametag read, had grown tired of small town life. They planned to leave as soon as the opportunity arose, even throwing their hat into the ring for the lotto. You had noticed them looking around throughout your conversation, but didn’t know the reason. You look up at the television, the final number yet to be read. You could have sworn the listing had began before you arrived, shouldn’t it have been over by now?

“07”

The voice is as clear as day amongst the static. Jamie’s head snaps up to the TV at the announcement, then to the ticket in hand – then a final time upward. The final number had just been read; the shine in their eyes a clear telling of events to come.

“I…I won..”

“Wait, seriously?” Jamie slides the ticket over for you to see; the first string of numbers matching perfectly with those on screen. The expression on their face is difficult to describe with one word. Disbelief, jubilation, and…… something you can’t quite put your finger on.

“Congratulations.” Is all you can muster.

“I can’t believe I won..” They stand up; overcome with emotion and wanting to express it with any in proximity – you being the only person available. They sling their arms around you like you’re long time friends; body shaking from joy. Understanding the sentiment, you return the hug; eyes wondering over to the clock on the wall. Time had slipped away from you; hands pointed nearly two hours from when you first arrived.

“I’m really happy for you, but I need to get going soon.” You mutter sheepishly; lightly tugging on their arm. Their body stills completely For a second, you wonder their heart had stopped before they finally slither their arms from around you.

“Right. Sorry. Just a bit overwhelmed. Here.” They reach into their pocket, placing a coin in your open palm.

“A quarter? What’s this for?”

They point over to a wall of capsule machines. “You really helped me out today. In more ways than one in a weird way.”

The confusion on your face only worsens. They move their finger over to the number stand. Scratched and worn to all hell, you could still make out the distinct curve of a number seven on the board.

“You picked those numbers out yourself, though.”

“Still, I’d like you to have something to remember me by. It’s going to be kinda hard to forget you.”

The faintest glow of red dusts their cheeks. Not wanting to push it, you walk over to the machines; eyes on your back the whole while. It takes a hard turn to get your reward, gears stuck from lack of use. Out pops a keychain in a grey capsule. It appears to be just a ball on the chain, gold star in its center.

Back in your car and on the right road, you start to relax a bit. The stress from earlier seemed silly in hindsight. You start playing around with the radio; limited, but decent options passing along. After picking your music of choice, you lean back in your seat – getting to know it and the landscape rolling by. You hum along, tapping your finger against the wheel to the beat.

“Ladiiies and Gentlemen!”

The abrupt and rather loud change cause you to swerve; volume a few notches too high for your ears. On reflex, you turn it down before you can process what happened. You then push buttons at random, trying ad nauseam to change the station; but nothing happens. The new voice, masculine and boastful, continues on without bother.

“Boy and girls. Those lovely folks who are neither or both. Welcome back to your favorite show with your favorite host – Eyes on the prize! The only game where everyone goes home a winner.”

Thunderous applause and a generic soundtrack crowd the air that the speaker leaves to fill. A game show? That was certainly – different. Initially annoyed, you decide to listen – as if you had any sat in the first place.

“Unfortunately, our guest couldn’t make it today due to some…. unforeseen circumstances.”

A few boos and “aw's” echo from the crowd, the host chuckling at the display.

“Worry not, folks. For we have a solution. As much as we’d like to give you a chance, we think it’s only fair for the listeners to get a turn. The first person to call this number will be today’s lucky contestant.”

The host lists off the number to call, the crowd silent in anticipation. You wait along with them, festive music looping in the background, buzzing in your ears like flies – right behind them like a backseat driver. Once you got home, you needed to get thus radio checked out. Five minutes go by with nothing; not even a second reading of the number. Must not have been a popular station.

Your luck had already been running high with this trip, so what could be the harm of throwing the hook once more? Stopping on the side of the road, you pick up your phone and dial the number, line connecting before the first ring. You swear you could hear the grin on the other end, voice doubled as it sounds through the radio and your speaker.

“H-Hello?”

“Looks like we got our caller, folks, and from their voice it sounds like we have a real catch. Welcome to the show!”

The crowd's cheering keeps you from a response, their enthusiasm knowing no ends – except for when he speaks.

“Quiet down, everyone. I have to give our guest a warm greeting! Guest isn’t the right word for you, though. We couldn’t do today’s show without you! You’re more like a.. co-host.” He muses, seeming pleased with his choice of words.

“We’re so glad to have you here, so, would you do us the honors and introduce yourself?”

“My name is Y/n…” You pause, thinking of what to say. “I’m on vacation and I came across this station on accident, but I called in since no one else seemed to.”

“Wonderful. Just wonderful! If you’re lucky you’ll be walking away with even more than all the excitement that might bring. The rules are simple. All you have to do is answer five round of three questions, and make sure you don’t hang up. Real easy stuff, got?”

“Okay..”

“Perfect! First question, what do bees make?”

“..honey?”

There’s a chime – like someone dragging a mallet over xylophone, followed by canned cheering.

“That’s correct! We always ease into things in the beginning – but I can tell you’ll do great! Let’s continue.”

You place your phone in the seat beside you, pulling your car out of park and drifting back on the road. While road safety was important, you hadn’t seen another vehicle for the majority of your travel plus you were sure you could keep your focus on the road.

“Question two, Which organ has four chambers?”

“Um.. the heart.”

The sound queue plays again.

“Question three… Are you.. alone?”

There’s a subtle change in his tone with the last word, losing its exuberant manner for one, single precise moment. The background music drowns in the awaiting silence; all waiting for your answer though you can't see the starving look in their stares.

Answer quickly.

“Y-yes?”

The music returns with gusto, the crowd clapping in approval at your answer and to the end of the first round.

“Cor-rect! Bit of a trick question, but we need to make sure you aren't cheating. And with that we have our first round! Pat yourself on the back.”

You let go of a breath you hadn't realized you were holding onto. Out of nowhere, there's the sharp ringing of a phone piercing your ears.

“You know what that means, folks, it's time for our audience questionnaire break! What that means for you, Y/n, is that some lucky few will be asking you whatever comes to mind. We like to let our crowd get real personal with our guests. You're allowed to not answer, of course, but what you do will be considered extra points.

You nod subconsciously; realizing your mistake as you blurt out. “Give me all you got.”

“That’s what we like to hear~. Let’s pick our first asker, shall we?” There's an uproar of eager people, shouting over each other like a group of seagulls. A drum rolls out; the image of a stage light shining over the crowd coming to your mind. You image it landing on one individual, as all the noise stops except for an excited squeal.

“You there, down in front. Come on up!”

Footsteps screech along tile floors; feedback booming from the mic as you hear another voice. “Hello, I'm S from California and I've been a huge fan of the show for a while. I'm excited to be here, and to meet you. What do you do in your free time?”

You answer honestly. The process continues.

“What color are your eyes?”

“What makes you laugh?”

“Who knows you best?”

“Favorite color?”

You answer them all as truthful as possible. No point in lying.

“Do you consider yourself to be a lucky person.”

The question throws you off guard; delivered robotic and cold. In a way, the voice was almost recognizable. Thinking back to the question, you didn't really know. Sure, you won this trip, but there were other parts of your life that couldn't be dealt to someone who had lucky constantly on their side.

“I.... I don't know”

The xylophone plays again. You thought that was only for right answers.

“I see..”

“Wait what was-”

“Are you single?”

In the few seconds for the words to leave your mouth, the person had slipped away, replaced by another with a query that makes you forget the last instantly. You reluctantly answer; it being the last question in this particular segment.

Round two starts without a hitch – questions slightly harder, but still in the realms of basic trivia. It's over almost as soon as it began, another tremendous applause at your completion. The road goes smoothly as the questions. but you notice that the sun was still high in the sky; just faintly dipping into a mellow evening. It was by no means late, but by now there should had been a hint of nightfall on the horizon.

“Are you nervous in front of others ?”

“What's the first thing someone should know about you?”

“What’s your zodiac sign.”

Your throat feels dry; tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth. You should have got something to drink at the diner before you left.

“I think it’s time for a bit of change, don’t you folks? We’ll call this round, the sensory round. Y/n, what is the animal that makes this sound?”

You hear a bird’s chirp, and answer accordingly.

“Yet another right answer. How about this one?”

Two tap against glass, too close to be from a soundboard, clicking straight in your ear, as though it came from your back window. Your body tenses; glancing out towards the back seat through the side view mirror. Empty as could be.

“Is everything alright?”

You rub the anxiety from your eyes. “Yea I’m.. I’m fine. Could you repeat it?”

“Certainly, my dear.” The sound plays again, a full fist instead of the gentle fingers from what you hear the first time. It rings along a different surface; hollow and wooden.

“Someone knocking on a door?”

“Perfection. Final question of the round. What do you see on the billboard you are about to pass?”

Your heart falls into your stomach. As if on queue, you rush past a billboard; its message burnt in though you only see it for a split second. Bold black lettering on a yellow background; an eye hiding in the lens of a camera beside it – staring down all who passed.

“Smile. You’re on camera.”

“T..there’s a picture of a camera.”

That damn xylophone chimes yet again; the applause popping like fireworks in your ears.

“What a fantastic round! We’ll skip on the questions this time, you need the rest.”

Your hands tremble. Was this some kind of prank. You need to hang up the phone – you felt it; but you can’t. A sharp ping hits your stomach; hunger stronger than the worry. A sign comes up for a gas station a few miles ahead. Before you could figure out what the hell was going on, you needed to take care of.

The store is quiet, the only occupants being you and the cashier with lidded eyes pointed at a magazine at the counter. He watches you, surprised to see someone around his age all the way out here. Your phone hung dormant in your pocket. Something told you leaving it behind wasn’t a wise decision. Shrinking under the many surveillance cameras around the place; you grab your items of choice and head over to the desk. Your phone buzzes for the tenth time before you’re able to retrieve it; unlocking to find dozens of messages from your boss wondering where you are.

“What… but I thought.”

“Is everything alright?”

“Yea, my boss just is asking where I am, but I thought he knew I was off for the week.”

His lip quirks. “Sounds rough..” He slides a card “First cup of coffee is on the house, and by the looks of it, you might need it...” He trails off at the end.

“Thank you, but I don’t need it. I shouldn’t be on the road for too much longer.” You try your best to smile, placing your items on the corner. The guy looks you up and down; a flash of recognition coursing his eyes as he looks at your pocket.

“If that’s what you want. “ He rings up your things and bags them up for you. As you grab the bags, you hear the scratches of a pen before your receipt is thrust your way; crumbled slightly as if to hide what was written. You take it, but his hand remains clutched; eyes narrowed at the paper. He straightens as you lightly tugging on it, smiling as he let's go.

“Have a pleasant day.”

You head outside, turning the paper over. You didn’t know what you expected, but it definitely wasn’t what you read.

“Drop your phone and run. Make it an accident.”

“We’re back, folks.” The voice makes you jump. No music in the backdrop. No audience. Only Host.

“Now, Y/n. We only have one question for round four. What’s on the paper.”

You don’t respond, making a break for the car. The light of the gas station fades into obscurity as you fumble with the door. His voice raises ever so slightly – like a parent scolding their child.

“Don’t ignore me. Or you’ll have to face a penalty.”

You climb inside, your phone tumbling from your pocket without intention. Making sure to turn off the radio, you peel out of the station. The second lane is no longer there, but you pay no heed – intending to return the way you came no matter what it took. Nightfall had finally taken hold, swallowing the road around you. The stars hang low like stage lights; forever unblinking – never deterring from the ones below their gaze. The radio jolts to life with a pitched cry.

“I really wouldn’t like to see you get hurt, Y/n. Even though you broke a rule, I’m willing to forgive you. Just answer the question.”

“I quit!”

“You can’t.”

Your foot slams down on the gas; trying to run from the voice as if it wasn’t in the seat next to you – whispering. Soothing in a melancholic way; preferable to the cries of outrage behind you. Your silence was worse than a refusal to answer; mocking those who waited for your turn – those who fell before you. You would never experience the same fate as them, and they all knew it; longing for the moment they could have a chance at joining you to their nameless chorus.

Luminescence finally breaks the endless darkness, persisting past a single beacon like the diner or the gas station. A town; your guard raised in defense, but unlimitedly known it’s where you end up where you liked it or no. What could you even do once you got there? Going to the police was completely out of the question. You just needed to get your head clear.

The entry to the town dawns, streets empty just like everything before it.

You hurry to the first desk, slapping whatever bills you could find on the surface with no explanation. The manager pushes a key over to you; you not even bothering to look up at them as you run off. The room is on the other side of the hotel, in its on little pocket of isolate. You shut the door; slinking down it to the floor below. You hold your head in your hands. This was all just some kind of fucked up prank. You’d be home before you knew it.

Taking deep breaths, you survey the area. The average twin bedded room you’d see in movies; the mattress your own slice of heaven. You'd go to sleep, leave the second morning broke, and never look back. If the buzzing would let you rest; swarming in your head. You should probably turn off the TV.

The tv. The one thing you didn’t notice on your first look around. Static dances across the screen, washing out to a clear image; and you finally see it. See him. The thing that’s been haunting you your whole journey. Slicked back hair. An ashed suit matching his single toned body. An eternal smile plastered on his face from ear to ear; hooked to the flesh like a skin tight mask. Featureless beyond, his blank face points directly at you and you can swear that that grin gets even wider.

“Y/n I have something to admit. I’ve gone pretty easy on you this entire time. You’re… not like anyone else we’ve ever had.. Special. My generosity can only go far. I can only protect you from so much.”

There’s a bang on the door, rattling it in its hinges; shaking every bone in your body.

“Please answer the question.”

A bang, followed by studio laughter.

“Answer me.”

Bang.

“My shining star.”

“H…he told me to run away.”

Everything goes hush. Everything except for the tell-tale sign you won yet another around. The laud is overpowering; whistles of cheer and chants of adoration blocking all other senses out.

“There we have it! Let’s get this show over with and bring our star home.”

The television shuts off, accompanied by the slick of someone peeling tape from a wall. Your surroundings quiver, foundation falling around due to lack of unseen support. They crash against titled floors; no longer there to shield you from piercing lights above. You cover your eyes with your hands as you get used to them, narrowing your vision at whatever lies before you. You sit on the floor of a large stage; reflection bouncing off the smooth, black surface. You see rows upon rows of filled chairs; silhouettes squirming in their confines from hyperactivity. You aren’t keen on finding out what lied in the shadows. You direct your attention to the person towering over you to ignore it; tapping the mic in hand to get both your and everyone’s focus.

“And here they are! What a beaut, wouldn’t you agree?”

The clapping is unnatural; prolonged by skin sticking against skin – hollow strikes thrown into the mix like hitting bone. Host helps you to your feet, his fingers cold around your wrist; stiff like in a stage of rigor mortis, but soft to the touch. Looking at him, it was easy to see his suit was just an itch or two off from properly fitting his long limbs; the two a match regardless of the shortage.

“Unfortunately, things aren’t over yet. We still have one last round for you to complete.”

“Why me?....”

“Well you did call us, Y/n.”

“You said I’m different from the others, but why?”

The question shuts him up. If he were able, you were sure he’d had a neutral expression on his face. In an instant, he bursts out laughing; audience joining along with him.

“Why. Why, I haven’t the faintest idea and that’s what makes you so amazing! Your kind appear to obsess over the smallest thing. The one that seemed most interesting, was luck. A ripe source of it for you was these silly little shows, and I couldn’t help but play along. It became one of mine as well. A good host always studies his guests well, and I studied you for alooong time. It was like you knew you were being watched. You started to make me become interested in these I wouldn’t have be in a thousand years. It’s.. fascinating.”

His body writhes beneath his words, muscles pulled right against his bones. The skeleton is unlike anything human just from what you see. Ever changing – a formless shape attempting to keep configuration. Jutting with each chuckle, his expressionless face contorts; reality blending to make room for the perverse allusion that is his true shelf. Digits curl and stretch the flesh even further; threatening to break the barrier keeping whatever inside. Your body tell you to run; somehow knowing if any of . A covetous existence wanting to swallow you whole. With a blink of an eye, he returns to “normal”.

“Sorry about that. Having you here does.. things to me. I was keen on letting you enjoy your vacation, possibly for the rest of your day’s; but the thought of you by my side sidetracked those plans. A treat like you will be a hit with our audience. I'd never let them anywhere near you though. Call it penalty for losing.”

You glance back at the crowd. In the massive sea, your able to make out the shadow of a nametag pinned to one’s shirt and a pair of headphones on another.

“So everyone out there … lost?”

“Ding ding ding. Smart as ever, Y/n. Unfortunately, there will always be repercussions in life, but I’d say this one isn’t so bad. They get a front row seat to the show and if they’re lucky… they get to play a part in it too.”

His voice fluctuates at the end of the sentence; hard to point out who he was impersonating.

“My eyes in the streets, but of course eyes do wonder sometimes; such as what happened earlier. It was rude to send you, but I’ll forgive him this time. Of course, you were never in any danger. You could say I was in your pocket the entire time. Our guests never wanted to harm you either. Just a little pressure to get you talking. Enough with the questions, least from your end. It’s fine for the final question.”

The concluding praise is unlike all before it; shrieks high to false heavens and soulful. Host places his hands on your shoulders, pushing you forward to their eminence delight. He cranes his body down to your height; grip firm as he breathes.

“Listen to those people. They love you. We all want you to stay. You’ll be awarded with whatever your mortal body desires, long as you remain under our gaze. We'll have plenty of guests, but the spotlight will always be on you. Our everlasting star. If you answer correctly you win. We all do.”

“For the grand prize of eternity, will you be my co-host?”

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sankatsuka · 2 months

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Gintoki Sakata Discussion: Takasugi's Influence on Gintoki - What it Means to Truly Protect Your Soul

This is DEFINITELY overthinking it and stretching it beyond canon, but nevertheless I wanted to share my recent thoughts... Spoilers for the entire story, of course. Also, warning for Takagin/Gintaka.

Edit 22/2/2024 (marked with *): Small section added for more evidence on how Gintoki was never a naturally straightforward person.

Maybe it was Takasugi who ironically inspired Gintoki to be who he is today: the man who never gives up, even if he's beaten down and everything seems hopeless - he will stand back up and protect everyone and everything around him. Just like how Takasugi senselessly was as a dojo challenger.

When Gintoki was younger, he was never like this. He was just fighting for his survival. When Gintoki first meets Shouyou, Shouyou points out how Gintoki was just wielding the sword to protect himself in a harsh, bloody environment.

This is why Gintoki doesn't give up when sparring Shouyou. He needs to be as strong as possible to keep protecting himself. Gintoki brings up how he has never lost to an adult - as if he wants to beat Shouyou simply so he can never lose ever again (so he wouldn't end up dying).

And then, Shouyou mentions how monsters are something born from a bloodstained karma. Gintoki is naturally drawn to bloodshed and death, because losing meant death in the environment he used to grow up in. So he needs to be strong and be capable of killing others so he can survive in such a place. You can just see it in the fear in Gintoki as a child standing on a pile of corpses.

(It's probably why Gintoki carries his sword around with him everywhere as a child, too. So he feels safe at all times.)

This all goes to show how Gintoki would have never had anything he would want to fight for as a child. He would just fight to be with Shouyou who was the only one he could trust or to protect himself. That's why this personality to want to protect everything within his sword's reach was definitely never innate.

Then comes Takasugi, whose Gintoki's first impression of is an irrational kid who would challenge a poor temple school with no actual reason other than wanting to win. You can see how Gintoki is clearly confused by him.

And even after losing many times, he just wouldn't give up on coming back. Gintoki even tells him to give up - he had no reason to keep getting hurt and beat up like that. It wasn't like he had to fight for his survival like Gintoki, he was clearly a privileged kid.

It is only when Takasugi wins and laughs that Gintoki no longer expresses this confusion and disagreement with Takasugi's actions. It's shown in how Gintoki suddenly tells Takasugi to come back, when Gintoki had initially told him to give up.

As if Takasugi's and everyone's smile and laughter after all that ridiculous irrationality made Gintoki realize something that made him change his mind.

Gintoki had a glimpse of Takasugi's way of living - to fight to the very end and keep getting back up for what you want, even if it was silly and stupid. In the end, you'll be rewarded with your own laughter and the people around you laughing along to your sincere, honest spirit.

It was a pointless, dumb way of living, but everyone was still laughing like that and happy. So maybe there was actually some worth in living dumbly and straightforwardly like that.

This may even be why Takasugi's laughter always stuck with Gintoki, even as he cut him down. Because it defined his life - that you should live by facing the present - just as much as Shouyou's words to use a sword to protect your soul stuck to him.

It was Shouyou who first taught Gintoki that what you truly want to do couldn't be the desperate instincts driving you, but rather something deeper down that should feel genuine - the soul. Then it was Takasugi who came along who seemed to demonstrate what living as your soul really was like - to do what you felt like doing in the moment, no matter what the people around you would say.

Even Shouyou encouraging Takasugi's pursuit suggests how this was Gintoki's lifelong answer. And only Takasugi could have demonstrated it best for Gintoki to imitate (instead of imitating Shouyou, as Shouyou had warned him against).

It truly feels like Takasugi is the humanity Shoka Sonjuku cultivated (Katsura did already know what he wanted, after all).

Takasugi's straightforwardness could have inspired Gintoki to tap into his own dull feelings deep down that he carries as he lives his everyday life. If those simple feelings for Takasugi were to grow stronger, then could there be such a thing for Gintoki too? Instead of being drawn to the joy of beating someone stronger than him, Gintoki could realize he seems more inclined to just living for some reason--

Even with no ambitions, he was still fine with just sitting around doing nothing. No matter how mundane, monotous and boring his everyday was without the excitement of a dream, Gintoki was still living for some reason. Maybe his joy in life was right there then--

--It was people. We see throughout the story that Gintoki is solely motivated to fight for the people around him.

Gintoki's actions have always, always been motivated by a desire to protect the people around him. He loves them: simply seeing them laugh when they want, cry when they want and fight to live as their truest selves. So isn't it fine for him to just want to fight for something as simple as that? Just like how Takasugi only fought for the petty reason of growing stronger.

This could be why Gintoki can now confidently say that he just loves the world as it is, even despite all the tragedies that's happened in it that made him suffer.

Not only did Takasugi potentially inspire Gintoki's present way of life, but Takasugi may even be the embodiment of what Gintoki found himself loving most about the world - that imperfect humanity of simply living, chasing what you want, getting lost, failing and suffering, but celebrating those small victories when you finally get there and laughing with everyone. This soul is what Gintoki always wants to protect within Edo, too.

After all, the mundane moments they shared in Shoka Sonjuku and Takasugi's laughter are the only things running in Gintoki's head as he resolves himself to cut Utsuro-Takasugi down. Gintoki truly loved them all.

If this wasn't the case, Gintoki would have never told Takasugi to come back. If Gintoki's motivations was never just the joy of seeing people be themselves, he would have set out and pursued whatever his soul wanted from being inspired by Takasugi's straightforwardness. He wanted to see Takasugi again, because he wanted to see that sincere, straightforward soul once again.

It could be why Gintoki is the one who disagrees with the way Takasugi does things in the present more than anyone.

If it was Takasugi who taught him that happiness of being sincere and straightforward with chasing what you wanted, and given that same spirit was exactly what Gintoki realized he loved most and wanted to protect - Gintoki would fight with all his heart for Takasugi to be that person Gintoki loved again.

It's also a nice touch that Gintoki says "I, the you who is me" when declaring he would never give up to Takasugi, as if implying how Gintoki took that lesson of straightforwardly never giving up from Takasugi himself.

Just as much as Gintoki's acceptance of Takasugi helped him, Takasugi's straightforward passion helped Gintoki just as equally.

*More evidence that Gintoki was never the person he is now is what he chooses to do after the war. Unlike Katsura and Takasugi who went off to pursue their goals, Gintoki's first instinct was to wander around and detach himself from people out of fear of losing people again. Gintoki seems to be more naturally a coward, and only when he lets people in does he find the courage to once again embrace the straightforwardness that Takasugi demonstrated.

After the events of the story that help Takasugi come to terms with himself, Takasugi's straightforwardness is later emphasized as his strong point that resonates with people. It wouldn't be a surprise then if he was the natural source of this straightforwardness in Gintoki, especially when the latter has always been defined as an empty person.

Takasugi and Gintoki are opposites who complete each other, to the point that even outsiders who only briefly meet them together no longer cared about how one of them was a terrorist. One way of seeing it is Takasugi represents the strong, unrelenting humanity that Gintoki realized he loved and wanted to live for, and Gintoki represents the impossibly white soul that the outcast Takasugi found as a place to belong to.

It was important for them to find each other: for Gintoki to realize he wasn't empty and was always capable of emotions, and for Takasugi to realize he wasn't wrong for who he was which the world made him feel.

It's why their life-defining events most often involve the other: Takasugi's laughter was a pivotal point in Gintoki's life where he finally grasped a real reason to fight in his empty everyday, while Gintoki's tears was a pivotal point in Takasugi's life which forced Takasugi to face his biggest enemy: himself.

Ironically enough, their ways of living now could even be said to be a a reflection of their love for each other: Gintoki facing the present because he loved that part of Takasugi and wants to be in the present with him, and Takasugi facing the past to feel closer to Gintoki who is obviously incomplete without the emotions of his past.

Naturally, there is no present without the past, and it feels like Takasugi decided to live in the past to represent it for Gintoki (but probably more because he's too scared to face the present because of his self-hatred and blame, but to be fair Gintoki is afraid of facing the past too even though he should). It's why I liked that the story ended strongly with Takasugi's death, because its impact really conveyed how there was someone who was always chasing Gintoki's entirety - he definitely had a place in someone's heart. He would still be loved no matter what, even if he always felt he was a monster different from others for how he grew up and thus would never properly have a place to belong.

You can see I really, really love Takasugi... From inference and parallels alone, Takasugi has always demonstrated so much importance to the narrative, but it's never laid out beyond how he's the one who lost himself and now has to redeem himself.

Gintama feels like a story about the two of them, not just Gintoki. Especially if Takasugi was the one who originated Gintoki's straightforward way of living, and given how Takasugi seems to literally be the human sword Shouyou prophecized to cut down Utsuro in the end.

It's really because Gintoki avoids thinking about the past and Takasugi hates himself for his emotions that we have to infer how much these two affected each other... But I do enjoy things not being shoved in my face, the avoidance really makes it a lot more emotional.

#gintama #gintoki sakata #sakata gintoki #shinsuke takasugi #takasugi shinsuke #takagin #gintaka #lmao the way writing this made me realize i completely misinterpreted a line and had a very very wrong idea of gintoki from there #i thought shouyou was the only one who made him the way he is today and that's why i misinterpreted gintoki's character #the scene of takasugi laughing feels so so important to understanding gintoki's character i swear #gintoki felt like a robot who was sticking to shouyou's teachings until he got somewhere before this #but now he feels like a loving person with a cruel isolating past who's just trying his best to be happy

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miryum · 1 year

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HI!!!! Good morning/afternoon/evening to youuu! First, I want to say I really enjoy your fics, it makes me feel like I'm on cloud 9. Too bad their just fiction. Anyways....

Idk if you write fics about benny watts, but ig it's worth a shot, I'm obsessed with play date by Melanie Martinez and that song really fit with benny. When benny was only with the reader to practice or play with her but they have a little thing that a couple does but without label. So the ready gets really tired and have a fight with him, and at the end benny told her his feelings.

Really hope you can make this. And advance thank you! <33

YES!!! My beloved Benny Watts!!!! I love him so much 😊 Thank you so much for your words, yet alas, mine are just fiction *sigh* (also, love your username)

Benny moved a rook across the chess board and your face scrunched up. You were nowhere near the level that the great Benny Watts was, but you liked the think you could predict his moves. You had known Benny since you were children, and therefore were able to practically able to read each other minds. That was an argument Benny used many times to rope you into playing chess with him. If you, the person who was able to prophesy his every move, wasn't able to beat him, then he was confident no one could.

You had tried multiple times to get out of playing chess with Benny (albeit thankful that it was a bit of steady income for the two of you, seeing as you were roommates), but he always managed to trick you into playing with him. Sometimes it was through bets, or he got you tipsy, or he simply looked up with you with puppy dog eyes and you melted.

It was hard though, being Benny's friend. You were constantly left alone at the apartment- if you could call it that- and sometimes had to pick up extra shifts because Benny was too engrossed in chess that he forgot to pick up a check. Your friends had urged you to move out, seeing how the stress could get to you, but you refused. You felt bad about the prospect of leaving Benny. He was your best friend, although you sometimes wondered if you were his. He clearly shared a special relationship with Arthur and Harry, simply because they were all the same sex.

And then there was Beth.

You were unsure of when the girl had first appeared in your life; she had just showed up at one point. And you saw how Benny reacted to her.

You were about to move a knight when a knock sounded on the door. Sharing a look with Benny, both silently agreeing to pause the game, you got up and opened the door. Sighing at the character who was waiting to come in, you moved back to the chess boar and plopped back down on the ground.

"Beth!" Benny smiled brightly. You hated him for it. Your feelings for Benny were probably a main factor in why you stayed by his side, even after he had pushed you into the friend-zone multiple times unknowingly.

"Are you guys playing?" Beth moved to sit by you.

You scooted away from her and towards Benny, gesturing to the board and saying, "Play for me, will you? I could never win against the prodigy."

"Hush," Benny took your hand in his. "You were doing wonderfully."

Without another word, you sat back and watched as the two young adults warred in a battle of the wits. No matter how many times you would watch it, you were always awed at the swift, defiant movements that they shared.

An unwanted pang of jealousy wormed its way into your stomach. Why couldn't you've been great at chess? Would Benny than pay more attention to you? And how could he be so blind? Who else had stood by his side for as long as you?

Throughout the match, Benny continued to hold you hand. When you went to pull away, reaching for a book or magazine to interest yourself in, he pulled you back and muttered something about 'his good luck charm'.

Rolling your eyes at his persistence, you shrugged him off. After a while, Benny was declared the winner, but by a slight margin. Even you were able to see how Benny narrowly avoided defeat. He had gotten lucky. Beth thanked you for letting her drop by, saying she had originally come for a book that Benny suggested. After she had left, you started to pack up the chess board. You had come to live with the fact that in your shared apartment with Benny, chess boards would outnumber anything else.

"You alright?" Benny stretched out on the floor, glancing over your figure.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Come on, Y/n." Benny shot you a hard look. "I've known you forever. I can see when something bugs you. Out with it."

"Are you blind?" You rounded on his suddenly, your odd question confusing the boy.

"What do you mean?"

"Can you see what's in front of your eyes?" you pressed again. "Because I don't think you can. Every time that Beth, a lovely girl, no doubt, but only a new, shiny toy to you, rounds the corner, you're transfixed and I can't understand why."

"Where is this coming from?" Benny exclaimed, feeling bombarded.

"Haven't I been enough?" You ignore him and continued on. "I've tried to be a great friend, but it's hard sometimes. It's especially hard when I've been crushing after you for the past few years and you can't realise that I like you!"

"You like me?" Benny stilled, blinking owlishly at you.

"Of course, you idiot!" You wanted to throw the chess board down but knew that a line you shouldn't cross. "We've had some pretty bad arguments in our lives and any other friends would've separated by now. Why do you think I always come back to you?"

Benny couldn't help but let a laugh escape. "You come back to me?" he clarified, shaking is head. "No, Y/n, I come back to you. God damn it, I like you too. Love you, in fact! Ever since I first set my eyes on you. You, may I remind you, had a school-girl crush on that one boy, Jack. So, I backed off. I've been harbouring feelings for you ever since."

You stared at him. "Pardon?" you asked finally.

"I guess I am blind." Benny flashed you a brilliant smile that made you melt. "Blinded by my love."

#benny watts x reader #benny watts #queens gambit #queens gambit x reader #benny watts imagine #benny watts oneshot #literally wrote this in one sitting #not proofread #thomas brodie sangster #i've missed writing for him

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ariespellz · 2 years

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hand holding hcs !!

ft. genshin guys + gn!reader

includes: diluc, xiao, albedo, thoma, zhongli, itto, kaeya, childe.

one, two, three.

cw: fluff, established relationship, me simping (kinda), mentions of blood and battles, it gets kinda angsty in kaeya's (not too much. god im so in love with him it's unhealthy).

A/N: THEM!!! also this got progressively more informal KDHZJSBS sorry abt that lol. and sorry for having parts longer than others ://

DILUC

top tier hand holding. bless his soul.

his hands are warm due to his vision. they're big and strong, and his palms are a bit rough.

he also has some scars, most of them he'd rather not talk about.

"just... and accident" he'd reply softly, clearing his throat.

some others are from small falls he had as a kid, or from training.

he doesn't like the scars at all, so if you were to tell him something positive about them, his cheeks would turn pink (please compliment them).

he's not the fondest of PDA but hand holding is one of the few things he'll do in public

when it's just the two of you it's better, though. he'll take his gloves off and smile when you interlace his fingers in yours :'))

you know the rubbing thumb thing?? yeah he does that

it's just something ingrained in his brain, really. his father did it when he was only a child, taking walks with him through the forest whenever the adult had some time to spare.

to him, hand holding is sacred. it just feels so intimate in a way he can't quite describe. fingers interlocked, little glances you sometimes steal the other, and your light giggles when you catch him.

OH and he's totally the type to lean down and kiss the reverse of your hand

with EYE CONTACT

makes your knees wobbly every. single. time.

and he knows that

so he only does it behind closed doors. to save you from the embarrassment (and totally not because he can't help the smirk tugging at his lips and the small laugh that scapes his lips when you cover your face with the free hand)

(yeah definitely not that)

you were the one initiating the contact the first time.

you see him all suave and mysterious and cool

but the first time you held his hand?? he almost combusts right there

you were walking home after a dinner out. it was your second date together and the opportunity just presented itself when he suggested taking a stroll instead of using a carriage.

and you just... went for it when he accidentally brushed his hand against yours.

you had some mercy and didn't interlace fingers.

but still. WOW. the reaction was immediate. you could hear a sharp breath and a shivering exhale. if it wasn't for the silence that accompanied the night, you were sure you wouldn't have heard it.

but it also was the night and it's darkness that you couldn't clearly see his raging blush. you two were lucky he didn't accidentally set anything on fire.

the redness extended from the apples of his cheeks, to the tip of his ears, to his neck and collarbones.

and the fluttering in his belly, which had been bothering him the entire afternoon, was going wild.

he couldn't LOOK at you. he was scared that you could hear his heartbeat. humiliating.

for him of course. you had the time of your life teasing him (and it was also cute so it's a win-win)

"is something the matter, master diluc?" you ask feigning innocence, a cheeky smile adorning your face "you don't look too good. perhaps you have fever?"

"i am perfectly fine, (y/n). thank you." he muttered through gritted teeth after a long silence. you just giggled in response.

good thing he didn't get to see the flush adorning your face, and how you had to bite back the loving sigh that threatened to leave your lips.

archons. you were down bad.

XIAO

he won't initiate it but he won't stop you either (a.k.a he's too proud to let you see how soft it makes him)

"you mortals are weird" he scoffs. you don't fail to notice that he doesn't even try to pull away.

and that he won't meet your gaze.

his hands are so pretty omg. slender fingers that would look delicate if it wasn't for the sheer strength they have.

that's one of the reasons he's hesitant to touch you.

PDA with him is non existent. zero. maybe some acts or service, or the obvious way he favours you over anyone else present.

but there won't be a single touch that could confirm that.

(you swear you can see zhongli smirking behind his cup of tea, eyes flickering between the two of you full of amusement. oh, and archons forgive that hu tao's there, ready to point out the way his gaze softens when he hears your voice.)

the lack of contact in front of others is nothing to get worried over

it's just that he's kinda clueless when it comes to affection.

specially physical one.

but he's willing to try just to see you happy.

you don't initiate much either, considering how private he is.

to be completely honest, if he allows you to freely touch him without any grumbling (let alone hold his hand) it means that he's completely and absolutely smitten

you're the only one he could ever commit to. someone whose only purpose is to kill, to harm, to get his hands stained with blood. the same ones you're now cradling in yours, brushing your thumb lovingly over his knuckles, after practically begging him to take off his gloves, just to feel him.

"these hands have taken countless lives" he says, voice stern "why would you want to hold them?"

and he looks so genuinely confused.

golden eyes, perfect porcelain skin, teal hair moving with the breeze, watching the sunset in wangshuu inn's roof.

he feels himself melt. muscles relaxing for the first time in centuries.

and the way he looked at you, even if it was just for a moment. so full of love. so full of devotion.

you may or may not have had to sneakily dry a tear after that.

ALBEDO

hmm

he's a wild card

maybe because he doesn't really care

it's not like he dislikes it (not at all) it's just that it feels so casual, so natural to him that he doesn't see the point in lingering in the thought for too long.

his hands are perfect. they were carved to be like that, after all.

soft palms, slender fingers, and clean, perfect nails.

his digits grazing your skin feel like kisses covering every inch they touch.

even if the gesture isn't a big deal for him, it feels comforting. he won't really hesitate to take your hand in his while walking around dragonspine, or while taking a stroll in the city.

he silently slides his digits between yours. the usual between you two. you were taking a different path home today, after an afternoon in his lab.

"so you don't get lost" he says. you know that's not the real reason, but no words are needed.

he was the one who suggested it first.

"just to see how it feels" or some bullshit excuse like that.

lies. it was because he read it in a romance book LMAO

don't even get me started on how kaeya wouldn't stop mercilessly teasing him about it after he caught him reading it. twice.

"this is nice. we should do it more often" he suggests with a straight face.

your lips inevitably quirk upwards.

"yeah," you mutter, feeling your face heat up "we should."

he likes it. that's it.

not a big deal.

but, just a secret between you and me...

...he'd only ever do it with you

ZHONGLI

average hand holding enjoyer

seriously though. this man will NOT let go of your hand

(unless you ask ofc. but you probably won't lol)

going for a walk around liyue harbour? he's holding your hand. filling paperwork for a funeral? he's holding your hand with his free one. dinner out? hand holding OVER THE TABLE‼️ the waitress is swooning (it was me. i was the waitress/hj)

what can i say. a gentleman.

he's so natural with PDA, too. does not give a single fuck about who's watching.

oh and HIS HANDS

lord have mercy

we must stay focused brothers

they're strong and veiny, but also slim at the same time. for someone who as slaughtered hundreds, if not thousands, he has a surprisingly low amount of marks.

he heals fast. he's a god.

you may notice a few scratches if you look closely, but that's about it. he doesn't hesitate to tell you the full story if you ask for it.

"oh, that one?" he let out a low chuckle "it was a long time ago..."

yeah, get ready. he likes to ramble.

but his stories are interesting and you love to listen, sooo

just like diluc, he's 1000% the type to kiss the back of your hand.

he'll lean down, golden eyes boring through yours, digits holding your hand in place, and place a chaste kiss right in the middle.

dancing with him ugh<3

as stated before, he does NOT hesitate to do it in public. if hu tao or childe are there, get ready.

anyway back to the point.

he also does the thumb rubbing thing.

i don't know how to describe it but his hands are always the right temperature.

you'd have to be the one to do it the first time.

it's not that he doesn't want to, its more of a what if you don't want to.

so, you were walking around liyue harbour, and it was really busy

he's really tall, so you would've been able to find him if you two got separated

but it was the perfect opportunity to grab his hand.

when you suggested it he smiled softly and let you decide how you wanted it.

"the scenery is beautiful today, isn't it?"

"indeed, it is" he answered. he, however, could only look at you.

probably one of the best hand holders in teyvat ngl.

THOMA

THIS ONE

THIS ONE RIGHT HERE

your hand is always entangled with his

but it's less casual and more... passionate

going for walks in the nature, he'll interlock your fingers with his

he'll kiss the back of your hand, yeah, but hear me out:

he'll kiss your palm while looking at you in the eye.

dunno about you jut i'd just MELT

oh and going around through the market, buying groceries?? you WILL dangle your conjoined hands back and forth

it's so cute PLS the vendors have a heartache every time they see you two.

(honestly same)

he's a PDA guy. he's a private person, as extroverted as he can be, but he loves showing you off because he knows you're so cool and great and yadda yadda yadda

he also knows your worth

also!! imagine having a hotpot with the kamisatos at komore teahouse.

he's ambidextrous (a hc of mine) so he'll hold his chopsticks in one hand and yours in the other.

ayaka is practically fantasizing and sighing adoringly while ayato is being a dick teasing you

"my, thoma! i didn't take you for a showoff" ayato says. "when's the wedding?"

ayaka lightly taps his thigh, annoyance written all over her face. thoma just chuckled, tightening his grip.

his hands are rough thanks to all the work, but still delicate in some way. careful and precise, long fingers and veiny forearms. he also manages to always have his nails perfect?? clean and the right length.

same as diluc, his vision makes them warm.

he initiated it the first time.

"can i hold your hand, (y/n)?" he asked. it was your first date and he had just picked you up. nothing too formal, just a walk around the city at night.

your heart was racing, and you were sure your palms were sweaty.

and his emerald eyes flickered nervously, not quite connecting with yours

and his beautiful smile was trembling a bit with excitement

and his cheeks and the tip of his ears were colored pink

"sure, i'd love to." you couldn't contain the happy giggle that scaped your lips because oh my god you were holding thoma's hand.

another one who does the thumb thing

ladies, gentlemen and nobles of the court he is the PERFECT MAN. his hand holding will make you ascent to celestia.

ITTO

he's a passionate one that's for sure

sometimes he's a bit too passionate, and you have to ask him to calm down (otherwise he might just break your hand lmao)

oni stuff we don't get it

his hands are huge, and warm, and full of scars, and nghhh please i wanna hold his hand and kiss the marks

most of them are from doing dumb shit lol

shinobu always gets you to treat his scratches because she knows he won't resist you (an that he actually listens to you)

big PDA guy.

he OWNS it

he could make out with you in the middle of a busy street as long as you wanted him to

so it goes without saying that his hands are ALWAYS on you

but he specially loves to hold your hand

it feels so romantic to him hehe <3

it makes him lightheaded and his stomach fill with butterflies

he feels so joyous that he always chuckles when you do it

"so we don't get separated" you'd excuse yourself.

unpopular opinion YOU WERE THE FIRST ONE TO DO IT

yes his love language is physical touch, yes he was shy about it. so what?

you were in a beetle fight, the two of you cheering for your onikabuto to win.

and then...

it did!

you weren't officially dating yet, so kissing him was out of the question (even if you really wanted to, just by hearing his cheery laugh and seeing his adorable smile)

instead, you picked one of his hands with both of yours, looked up to him and thanked him

"see?" he stammered, trying to play it cool "what did i tell ya? the small ones are the best!"

he scratched the back of his head with his free hand, avoiding eye contact. he was a stuttering, babbling mess. face reddened, heartbeat quickening, and hands sweating.

it didn't take him long to ask you out after that.

loves to touch you and loves hand holding. totally worth it.

KAEYA

you'd assume he does it a lot

WRONG

wait not too wrong

he loves to touch you (same as itto, he's all over you) but hand holding somehow feels vulnerable to him

which means it makes him shy

hands holding your waist? cool. an arm draped over your shoulders? nothing out of the ordinary. his palm on your thighs, caressing and grabbing the flesh? how daring! still nothing new.

but your fingers toying with his? his thumb brushing over your knuckles? to feel your grip tighten or soften depending on the mood?

holy shit he's malfunctioning

because yes, he can be a smooth talker. a flirt. someone who's handsome and knows it.

he'll be as cool as a cucumber as long as it's not intimate.

because kaeya's heart its surrounded by an everlasting blizzard. because he's scared of commitment, of intimacy.

because he's scared of attachment, but even more scared of loneliness.

so he'll play it off with lingering touches that feel burning on your skin. with fingertips stoking your back. with a playful kiss on your cheek.

he wants to be liked, but he can't be important.

so when the touch is innocent, genuine, caring. when you allow yourself to wear your heart on your sleeve just for him.

it's when you see past the façade.

"oh." he gasped softly. thank barbatos the street was practically empty. you can feel his muscles tense for a second, but he doesn't waste a second to chuckle and dissimulate it with faux-confidence "feeling needy, aren't we?"

you just roll your eyes. what a guy.

still!! not as big on PDA as you initially assumed. if you're in a flirting/first dates phase, he might be a bit more public.

the moment it becomes official, he's more lowkey.

the grannies and grandpa's of mond remind you two how lucky you are to have each other.

OK OK BACK TO THE POINT

you were the first one to hold his hand (go get him tiger)

diluc had knocked on your door one day at around two in the morning.

"that guy is drunk and i don't want him making a mess" he had said. judging by the look on his face, he meant something like "im worried about him but i don't want him to know".

so, you tidied yourself as much as you could and went to angel's share.

the walk to his home was torture. he would not stop whining with his face in the crook of your neck.

at one point you got frustrated and told him to stop. your voice came out colder than you wanted and you instantly regretted it.

"i'm sorry. please don't leave me."

you heard your heart break. not wanting to push his boundaries, you settled for taking his hands in yours.

"i won't, i promise." you sighed. "let's get you home, then, yeah?"

"...yeah."

needless to say, he had a lot to think about the next day, when he saw you sleeping on his couch.

your response to his vulnerability was what made the difference for him.

CHILDE

childe would love nothing more than to spend his whole life with his hands on you.

but he can't.

PDA with him has to be settled to a minimum. the last thing he wants is to let any of those ten menaces and their minions to know just how important you are to him.

that's why holding hands is the most he'll do in public

when he's sober, at least.

due to the cold, it's the usual in snezhnaya to hold hands. not even in the romantic sense. just another way to maintain the heat.

so he doesn't really see it as something that intimate or relevant.

he does like it, though

specially with you.

he does this thing when he grabs your wrist and expects you to do the rest just so he can tease you for it and 'gaslight you' into believing you were the one holding him

"aw, (y/n), do you really like me that much, hm?

"not this again, please."

#Free(Y/N)

ANYWAYS his hand is always in yours, similar to zhongli or thoma.

unless his co-workers are nearby.

noone really knows who did it first.

you were going for a stroll one day and tried it at the exact same time.

an "accident".

(he saw you staring at his hand and tried to make it less awkward by doing that)

(king shit)

his hands are veiny and also a bit bony?? (is that a thing lol)

slim and long fingers

his palms are softer than you'd expect. he always wears gloves while training

still, he has a lot of scars. mostly cuts and scratches.

contrary to popular belief, he's not fond of his scars. he likes the stories that go behind them, and the experience they give him.

but god forbid that any of his younger siblings see them. specially teucer.

"i think they look good on you" you complimented one day, kissing them one by one. "it's in character of you."

he smiled softly, sliding his digits between yours "i think you look good in everything."

man that was SMOOTH /j

hand holding is a big deal in snezhnaya because of how common it is.

so he'll use it as an excuse not to let you go.

what a dork. i want to marry him.

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onceuponaoneshotfanfic · 10 months

Text

How You Get the Girl (Superstar Chapter 9)

I want you for worse or for better

I would wait for ever and ever

Broke your heart, I'll put it back together

I would wait for ever and ever

Roy and the Reader finally figure out what they want.

Roy Kent x Reader

6.8k words

Warnings: Language, teeny tiny angst at the start, lots of apologies, hard flirting & allusions to smutty activities, adults drinking, fluffy fluffy fluff

Thanks for sticking with me through the angst! Hopefully this chapter makes up for it because I made myself giggle and blush from some of the fluff in this chapter 💖

Choosing a game day outfit had never been more stressful. Normally, it was quick work: jeans, Greyhounds sweater, comfy shoes, sometimes a cap on sunny days. But most game days didn’t follow a text from Roy Kent asking if we could talk. The first text he’d sent me after our breakup. Five little words that gave me a glimmer of hope that maybe- maybe- we could fix things.

I hadn’t told anyone about the text; not Keeley, not Rebecca, not my girlfriends, not my mum. What if I was wrong? What if I’d totally misread everything at the ballet and in the car? What if Roy still totally hated my guts and was dating someone new- or worse, Brittany fucking Brett- and was doing the decent thing and telling me first before I saw it online?

But I couldn’t help but feel some non-Roy-related joy as I sorted through my worryingly obsessive amount of Richmond sweaters. Despite my personal anguish, there was something truly exciting happening: the Greyhounds were winning. And today’s match against Chelsea had the potential to do the impossible: put AFC Richmond in first place. There was still plenty of season to go, but everyone couldn’t help but feel hopeful going into this game and what it would mean for the rest of our season. Even with whatever was happening in my personal life, I couldn’t help but skip down to my car, humming “We're Richmond till we die. We know we are, we're sure we are, we're Richmond till we die!”

For the first time in weeks, I parked my car close to the building; in fact, I parked it right next to Roy’s big stupid car, the sight of which made my heart rate race just a bit faster, especially considering it was way earlier than his usual arrival time. I had to stop myself from rushing into the offices and looking too eager; but, as it turned out, I didn’t need to worry about how I appeared walking into my office. Roy wasn’t there.

Pretending that I wasn’t disappointed, I started on my game day routine, putting things where they belonged and making sure the gaffers would have everything they needed once they arrived. But I couldn’t stop thinking about Roy’s text.

The night before, after I’d read his text for the hundredth time, I’d responded with Yes, of course. I saw those three little dots and then… nothing. It had been a little off-putting, but I somewhat understood; it was Roy after all. He’d find me when he was ready.

“Oi, you busy?”

I turned and saw Jamie standing in the doorway, holding a little orange piece of paper in his hands. He had that bashful look he wore the night he brought me my box of stuff from Roy’s, but there was a mischievous glint in his eye this time.

“Me? Busy before a match? Never.” I grinned at him. “You’re here early. D’you need something?”

“We did this morning’s workout here because Roy said he had business to handle before the match.” He stepped forward and handed me the little piece of paper. “Told me to come give this to you. And to ask you to please go to your assigned seat as soon as possible.” He nodded to the little note I now held. “Then I’ve gotta go run for somethin’ like a thousand hours on the treadmill, but I think he was just jokin’ about that one.” He paused, clearly thinking. “I hope.”

I looked at Jamie quizzically, unable to resist chuckling at his equally confused expression. “Alright Jamie. Thanks for the message.”

Jamie gave me a small salute and sauntered off. As soon as he was gone, I looked carefully at the little orange sticky note in my hand. It simply read the number for a stadium seat. A bit puzzled, I grabbed my tablet- the one thing I was never without on game day- and strolled out of the office, briskly making my way to the stands.

As I walked through the empty seats, I spotted a lone figure in a dark shirt sitting exactly where I was headed. My heart skipped a beat as soon as I saw him, and I did my best to bite back a smile. No matter what this conversation held, I couldn’t deny how happy I was to see Roy.

“This seat taken?” I teased as I approached.

He grunted and nodded towards the seat next to him, his mouth twitching in the corner, the way it always did when he was fighting a smile. I sat down and looked out at the field; I’d sat out here many times before with my family or with my mates, seen this view many times before, but somehow the grass seemed greener, the red and blue seats seemed brighter, the white lines seemed crisper. Perhaps it was because Roy Kent wasn’t running down the pitch, but was instead next to me, looking as anxious as I felt.

“This isn’t too fucking dramatic, is it?” he asked with a scowl. “Sitting out here and all?”

I shrugged. “Just dramatic enough for my taste.”

“Hmmf.” He paused for a moment. “Did you enjoy the recital last night?”

I turned back to Roy, who was looking at me with his eyebrows raised. “Oh, um, yeah.” Not the question I was expecting. “Did you?”

He shrugged, his leg shaking a bit. “It was a bunch of eight-year-olds jumping around to instrumental versions of Taylor Swift songs. It was fine.” He paused, his gaze shifting down. “But I liked that you were there,” he mumbled.

My eyes fell to my tablet as my finger traced the AFC on one of my stickers. “I… I liked being there too. It was nice to see Phoebe. And your sister.” I paused, letting my eyes flicker to Roy. “And you. Thanks for driving me home, by the way.”

“Couldn’t let you walk,” he grumbled, shifting slightly in his seat. He was silent after that.

I cleared my throat. “So, is that what you wanted to talk about? Phoebe’s ballet?”

“Fuck no,” he grunted, clenching and unclenching his fist. “I wanted to talk about… well, you know…” He gestured between us. “This thing.”

“This thing,” I repeated with a slow nod. “You and me, you mean?”

He coughed. “Yeah. You and me.”

Clearly, I would have to be the one to get the ball rolling. “And what about you and me?”

Roy let out one of those giant sighs and looked up at the blue sky. “I fucking miss you,” he mumbled. “Even more than Oscar does.”

I didn’t hide my smile. “Well, I miss you fellas too,” I admitted. “Quite a bit actually.”

With an abruptness, Roy turned and faced me, his eyebrows knitted together. “Listen,” he said, his voice low. “I get now that you didn’t do anything wrong or on purpose, but I’m still really upset about that fucking article. It feels like shit to be talked about that way in print, which I’m sure you get now. Makes you feel like…. Like….” He tapped his fingers on his jiggling knee. “Like that fucking scene in Finding Nemo where the fucking braceface girl is tapping on the aquarium and the fish all freak the fuck out.”

“I guess you could say reporters are piranhas,” I joked, immediately understanding the feeling he was talking about.

My reference was rewarded with the sight of Roy’s mouth tugging upwards in the corners. “Exactly.” He folded his arms and slouched a bit. “But yeah. It fucking sucks. And the idea of trusting someone with all my secrets and knowing that at any moment all of that could be leaked is kind of…” He bobbled his head, his eyes on the sky. “Scary,” he finished in a low voice. “And it makes me feel… exposed.” He looked at me carefully, as if he dared me to laugh at the words coming out of his mouth. When I didn’t, he sighed and continued. “It’s not exactly a secret that I have a bit of a shit track record with the press and my love life.”

I couldn’t argue with that last point; I’d religiously followed his dating history over the years, a fact I suddenly felt embarrassed by. “I wouldn’t do that to you, Roy,” I whispered, resisting the urge to grab his hand. “D’you trust me on that?”

Roy let out a deep, growling sigh. “I want to,” he admitted. “But when you’ve been fucked over as much as I have…” He shrugged. “Shit’s fucking hard.”

Knots appeared in my stomach. “Oh.”

As if he could read my mind, he reached over and grabbed my hand. He spoke quickly, as if he wanted to get his next words over with. “So, I’ve made an appointment with Doctor Sharon so I can start working through all that shit and be…” He closed his eyes and let out a deep, growling breath. “A better version of myself,” he said through gritted teeth.

“That’s really good, Roy,” I assured him, squeezing his hand. “I’m proud of you for taking care of yourself.”

He opened his eyes and tilted his head to look at me. “I love you,” he said. Simple. Straightforward. Easy. “I really fucking love you. And I want to make sure that we can give each other what we need.” He stroked the back of my hand with his thumb. “What I need is someone I can trust. Someone who isn’t going to turn around and blab all my shit. Someone who’ll protect me.” He raised his eyebrows at me. “What do you need?”

I paused. “Am I allowed to say you?”

The smallest smile graced his face. “No. But thank you.” He bumped his shoulder into mine. “Come on, tell me what you fucking need.”

“Hmm.” I thought for a moment, ignoring how wonderfully warm Roy’s hand felt in mine. “I need… I need to feel like I’m not something to be embarrassed by. Like I’m not some dirty secret.” I scrunched my face as my voice got small. “Like I’m not some little fangirl with a crush instead of a woman in a relationship. Like I don’t have to compete with models and actresses.”

Roy nodded thoughtfully. “Alright. I hear that.” He looked me in the eye intently and gave my hand a squeeze. “But just so you know, in my mind, you never have to compete with anyone, you hear?”

A lump formed in my throat when I saw that adoration return to the eyes I loved so much. “Alright,” I whispered. I looked down at our hands. “So… where does this leave us, Roy?”

With his free hand, Roy lifted my chin so I could look him in the eye. “We keep talking,” he said slowly. “We fucking tell each other what we want and need. We give each other our best, every fucking day. And we see how that goes.” He paused. “Is that alright? For now, I mean?”

“Yeah, that’s alright,” I breathed, giving his hand a squeeze. I cleared my throat, realizing that it was about time for the gates to start opening and for the team to get ready to warm up. “We should go get ready for the match, hmm?”

Roy nodded, standing and pulling me up with him, giving my hand a gentle squeeze before letting go. “You’re still coming to see Oscar today, right?”

“Of course,” I assured him as we made our way out of the stands. “I think I’ve missed him more than I’ve missed you,” I teased, hoping Roy would laugh.

And he did.

“Go on, Sam!” I shrieked, bouncing up and down, my knuckles white as I clutched my tablet to my chest.

We were well into stoppage time, somewhere in the ninety-seventh minute, tied 2-2 with Chelsea. I could feel the roar of the crowd vibrating deep in my chest as Sam raced down the field, far, far ahead of the defenders. I didn’t need to check my data, all the numbers on spreadsheets that showed what an amazing season Sam was having, to know he had this. I could see it in the way he carried himself.

My entire body tensed as he inched closer, closer…

And scored.

Almost immediately, the whistle shrieked, signaling the end of the game, and Richmond’s new place at the top of the Premier League standings. I screamed and threw my tablet into an empty dugout seat, knowing Will would be too excited to properly catch it. I followed the gaffers out onto the pitch, joining the team in tackling Sam, whose infectious laugh I could hear somewhere in the crowd. In all the jumping and cheering and laughing, I registered Ted smacking a kiss on my cheek, and Beard ruffling my hair, and the rest of the boys hugging me tight.

Finally, my eyes found Roy, who wore that big smile, the same one he’d worn after our very first kiss at my parents’ house. His smile softened as he made his way to me, shaking off players’ attempts at congratulations, stopping in front of me. I wondered if a hug would be too much to ask for-

“I’m proud of you,” he whispered, his hands cupping my face. “Really fucking proud of you.” He looked at the celebration raging around us. “And I want all these pricks to know it.”

Before I could ask what he meant, he ducked his head and crashed his lips into mine. His kiss was desperate, hungry, needy. Like he was a dying man with one last request. I smiled against his lips, remembering how much I loved the tickle of his beard against my skin as I laid my hands on his hips, pulling him closer. When I opened my mouth, he let out a small hum of delight, the vibrations rumbling against my chest. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I registered the rowdy shouts and whistles coming from some of the players once they spotted us, the hearty “Well I’ll be!” from Ted, and what sounded like shrieks from Keeley and Rebecca- and was that Higgins too?- in the owner’s box. But all I could truly focus on was Roy. The feeling of his lips, the taste of his tongue, the sound of his gentle moan against my mouth, the smell of the cologne I’d bought for him in Paris, my fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt, the intense pounding of his heart.

“Oi! Coach! Keep it family-friendly over there!”

With a low growl, Roy removed his lips from mine, instead pressing our foreheads together. “I’m gonna fucking kill Jamie Tartt,” he grumbled, his gentle smile contrasting his violent words.

I couldn’t help but laugh and bury my face in his chest, tightening my grip on him. “What happened to ‘privacy’?” I asked, my voice full of teasing.

Roy shrugged, lifting my face so we were looking at each other. “Fuck privacy. My team’s in first place. I wanted to fucking kiss my girl.” As if to prove his point, he planted a kiss on my lips again, smaller this time, but just as heated. When he released me, he brushed a loose strand of hair out of my face. “What’re the odds we can get through this party without having a dramatic row?”

I shrugged, fixing the sides of his shirt where I’d been gripping him. “Third time’s the charm, Kent.”

Roy insisted on not splitting to go get ready for the team celebration that night. Instead, he drove us both to his place so I could spend some time with Oscar while Roy got ready, then to my place so I could change into the little black dress he liked. When I walked out of my bedroom, transformed from “Game Day” me to “Going to the club with Roy Kent” me, his jaw dropped softly as he eyed me from the couch.

“C’mere,” he mumbled, grabbing my hand and pulling me into his lap. “Fucking gorgeous,” he purred, planting a kiss on my shoulder. He moved my hair away from my neck and laid a slow kiss there. “Do we have to go? We don’t seem to have the best luck at parties,” he teased, as if his real motivation wasn’t completely obvious.

I shoved him playfully. “Come on, Kent. Let’s go break our curse.”

The celebration was in full swing when we arrived at the swanky club the boys had chosen for to honor the occasion. As we approached the doors, I tightened my grip around Roy’s hand. As if he could feel my anxiety growing, he bent down and planted a kiss on my cheek.

“Ready for the official debut of Roy Kent and his anonymous assistant?” I joked tensely.

With a small smile, Roy shook his head. “Fuck that. I’m ready to make our debut as you and me. Just us.”

My heart skipped a beat when I caught sight of the affection in his eye. “Just us,” I repeated. “I like the sound of that.”

Hand in hand, we walked through the bustling club, offering nods of acknowledgement to the players who shot us mischievous looks. Roy led me to the bar, where he ordered my usual drink and a beer for himself.

“Cheers,” he murmured, handing me my drink. He leaned on the bar and gazed at me as he took a sip of his beer, his eyes moving slowly down my figure. “You look so damn-”

“You guys!” Keeley squealed, throwing her arms around us and giving a squeeze before letting go, Jamie at her heels. “Holy shit! I have so many questions, you have to tell me everything!”

I glanced at Roy and intertwined our fingers. “Not much to tell,” I said with a shrug, suddenly feeling bashful.

Roy lifted my hand to his lips and kissed my knuckles gently. “What she said.”

Jamie tapped his drink to Roy’s beer. “Cheers, Coach.” He smiled. “Guess this means we’ve got some double dates in our future, yeah?”

“Fuck off,” Roy scoffed, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. The squeeze he gave my hand assured me that yes, we would have double dates with these two, no matter what he said with his mouth.

“Well, well, well, would you look at you two!” Ted approached us, his grin wider than I’d ever seen it. “Caught your lip lock after the game. All ya needed was some rain and y’all woulda given Ryan Gosling and Rachel McAdams a real run for their money. The Notebook, more like the Playbook, ya know?” He winked at Roy. “Went and got ’er, huh?”

Another eye roll from Roy. “Yeah, yeah, thanks for the advice.” He turned to me. “Can we go sit down now? My fuckin’ knee is killing me.”

I stifled a giggle as I let him lead me to a secluded couch, away from the curious gazes of the Richmond players and staff. He wrapped an arm around my shoulder and stared at me with a lazy grin. I turned my body to face him, the gears in my head turning.

“So, Ted gave you advice about us, hmm?”

Roy took a long drink of his beer. “He may have told me some stuff.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Y’know, before I left to go get ready for Phoebe’s recital, I heard Ted and Beard barking and running out of the office. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you, Kent?”

He let out a low growl and bobbled his head. “I may have asked the fucking Diamond Dogs for advice,” he muttered.

“You must’ve been desperate,” I teased, nudging him with my shoulder.

His eyes softened. “Guess I was,” he hummed, leaning towards me to steal a brief kiss. “Fucking missed this,” he mumbled, pressing his lips to my neck. “Missed you.”

“So, what advice did the Diamond Dogs give you?” I pressed, not willing to let him distract me from the topic at hand. “Or is it totally confidential?”

He tossed his head back with a defeated sigh. “They told me to fucking communicate with you. And to be willing to be, I dunno, vulnerable and shit.”

“Vulnerable,” I repeated, taking a sip of my drink. “That’s pretty sexy, you know.”

His eyebrows flew up. “So, if I spill all my fucking secrets and cry a bit, you’ll come home with me tonight?” he teased, leaning close.

“Only because I want to see Oscar,” I shot back, bumping his nose with mine.

Before Roy could retort or kiss me, Sam, Dani, and Colin ambled over, shit-eating grins on their faces. Roy scowled at them, while I opted for a smile and wave.

“Hi boys,” I greeted, prepared for the teasing we were about to receive.

Dani raised his eyebrow at us. “So, this is for real, yes?”

Colin nodded emphatically. “Don’t go jerking us ’round. We’ve been waiting for this for months.”

A look of almost revulsion spread across Roy’s face as he scoffed. “Are you pricks fucking serious?”

“Dead serious, boyo,” Colin confirmed. “Er, Coach,” he corrected under Roy’s glare. “We’ve been rooting for you. Even had a pool going about when you two’d get together.”

Sam grinned. “I had bet on the last game of the season. I am a very big fan of a dramatic slow-burn romance.”

As the boys chattered on about the different bets they’d placed and why, Roy leaned close to me. “Should we tell them we first got together fucking months ago?” he whispered in my ear.

I shook my head. “Don’t spoil their fun.”

I woke up smelling cinnamon. I turned over in bed, finding only Oscar, who’d ditched his own bed for Roy’s at some point.

“Morning, Oscar,” I mumbled, stroking the dog’s fur. “Where’s Roy, hmm?”

When the dog didn’t answer, I rolled myself out of bed and headed downstairs, the pitter-patter of Oscar’s paws following me the whole way. I found Roy in the kitchen, fully dressed, whistling and making French toast. Keeping quiet, I hovered in the doorway, watching him as my heart swelled with joy. He moved with a lightness I didn’t think I’d ever seen. It took me a moment to realize he was whistling “Something Good” from The Sound of Music. Unofficially “our song”.

Doing my best to step silently, I approached and wrapped my arms around his middle. “What’re you up to?” I asked innocently, batting my eyelashes at him.

He peered down at me, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Making some fucking breakfast.”

“For who?”

“Jamie fucking Tartt,” he grumbled sarcastically, kissing the top of my head. “Who d’you fucking think?” He nodded towards the kitchen island. “Sit.”

I made a face at him. “Yes, Coach,” I teased, slipping my arms from around him and taking my usual seat. On the countertop were Roy’s car keys and a cup of tea. I took a sip and glanced up at Roy, who had resumed his whistling. “Did you go to the shop this morning?”

He shrugged. “Needed syrup.” He glanced back at me. “Hope your tea’s still hot.”

“It’s perfect,” I stared at him. “What’s with the production this morning?”

Roy plated a couple slices of French toast and brought it over to me. “Fuck d’you mean?”

I shrugged as I took the plate. “You went to the shop before I was awake to get syrup. Let me sleep in. Made sure my tea was ready. Cooked my favorite breakfast.” I raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re spoiling me, Kent.”

“Ah.” Roy grabbed a fork and the syrup and slid them over to me, then leaned his elbows on the counter. “I… am just glad you’re here,” he said slowly, looking at me intently. “I have mentioned that I fucking missed you, yeah?”

My face warmed as I turned my attention to drowning my French toast in syrup. “You may have mentioned it once or twice.”

He let out a shy chuckle, a sound I didn’t hear too often. “Well, I just wanted to, I don’t fucking know, celebrate getting back together.” He wrinkled his nose, clearly feeling the same nervousness I was feeling. “I know we’re still figuring all this shit out, but it’s nice. It’s fucking nice.”

“Yeah,” I agreed softly. I took a bite of French toast and felt myself melt at the familiar taste. “Shit. I almost forgot Roy Kent can cook,” I teased.

Rolling his eyes, Roy turned and served himself a plate before joining me back at the island. “Alright. So, I was thinking-”

“A dangerous pastime.”

He narrowed his eyes at me. “Almost forgot you never fucking shut up.” He took an aggressive bite of his breakfast. “Like I was saying, I was thinking we should swing by your place today.” His eyes flickered up to me. “Pick up that box of stuff Jamie brought you.” The air felt heavy for a moment at the mention of what I thought of as the ‘break-up box’. “Y’know, because you need a toothbrush.” He wrinkled his nose playfully. “Your morning breath is fucking awful.”

“Prick,” I mumbled, unable to contain my grin.

It felt good to be back.

That Monday, after pulling into his usual parking at Nelson Road, Roy turned off the car and eyed me carefully. “What?”

I raised an eyebrow at him. “What what?”

“You’ve had this fucking… look on your face the whole drive over.” He shrugged. “You thinkin’ about something?”

“Oh.” I looked down at my hands. “Just… everyone knows now,” I huffed, trying to sound casual.

Roy leaned his head back against the headrest. “Don’t fucking tell me you want to go back to keeping things secret?” he asked teasingly. “Because I will drive this car off a fucking cliff.”

I laughed. “No. It’s just going to take some getting used to. I fully expect at least a month of teasing from the guys.”

“Yeah. But at least I can do this whenever I fucking want.” He leaned over and pressed his lips to mine, slowly, tenderly, full of affection.

When he pulled back, I smiled, the butterflies in my stomach now completely gone. “Whenever you want, hmm? I’d love to see you try that during training.”

“Don’t tempt me,” he murmured.

I nodded towards the building. “Come on, then. Can’t have you making me late, you menace.”

I had walked into the offices side by side with Roy before. Many times. It wasn’t a secret that we drove to work together sometimes, claiming that I liked to use the carpool time to try to transcribe Roy’s shit handwriting to our digital playbook I’d made.

Now, however, Roy casually threw his arm around my shoulders, making me feel like a teenage girl walking down the hall with the most popular boy in school, my cheeks growing a smidge warmer with every pair of eyes that glanced our way with knowing smiles.

In the changing room, the guys all stood a little taller, mouths open with glee, when we walked in. Before any of them could make one of the million comments they’d probably had prepared for months, Roy cleared his throat, shooting them his most intimidating glare.

“Don’t.”

Quickly, each Greyhound turned and pretended to be very busy in their cubbies. I chuckled and knocked my hip into Roy’s as he led me to the coaching offices, where Ted and Beard sat, sipping coffee.

Beard raised his eyebrows at us. “Well, hello there,” he greeted in a sing-songy voice, tapping the brim of his hat.

Roy nodded with a small grunt in return, speaking the wordless language only the two of them understood.

Ted lit up as he looked us over. “Move over Becks and Posh, there’s a new hot couple in the soccer world!” He lifted his paper cup in our direction. “Seriously, I am very happy for you two. Roy, you are practically glowing.”

The furrow in Roy’s brow at Ted’s comment was almost enough to make me giggle. “Right, I should let you gentlemen get ready for training.” I beamed up at Roy. “You pick lunch today.”

“Fine.” He bent his head and kissed my lips, eliciting little oooohs from Ted and Beard. Roy growled at them, but I could see a playful glimmer in his eye.

I practically skipped to my desk and set my things down, glancing at the to-do list I’d left myself before the weekend. As I opened my laptop and started looking at the week’s schedule, my eyes were drawn to the wall space above my desk- specifically, to the spot formerly taken up by a particular little orange sticky note.

Roy stepped into the office and dropped his duffel on his chair. Apparently, his gaze was drawn to the same spot. “I should write you a new autograph,” he murmured, his voice light.

“I’ll just ask Keeley to give the old one back,” I replied with a shrug.

“Nah.” I heard scribbling behind me. “Here.” Roy leaned over me and stuck a new sticky note on the wall.

To my favourite fan. XOXO Roy

I tilted my head up to see Roy gazing down at me. “How much d’you think I could get for this on eBay?”

“Fuck you.” He kissed the top of my head. “See you later.”

As soon as Roy and the other gaffers were out of the office, I couldn’t help myself; I spun around in my chair, giggling like a schoolgirl in love.

“I don’t need a chaperone,” Roy grumbled as we walked arm-in-arm through the building. “I fucking know where her office is.”

I rolled my eyes. “I know. I’m just offering my support. Being a good girlfriend.”

Roy grunted. “Fine. Whatever.” We walked in silence for a bit before he opened his mouth again. “Thanks. For being supportive.”

“Anytime.” I smiled up at him. “I’m really proud of you, y’know.”

Glancing around us at the empty hallway, Roy stopped walking and leaned against the wall, sliding his hand down to hold mine. “And why’s that?”

I pressed myself close to him. “Because. You’re doing something, I dunno, brave. Working through something that’s hard for you. Being vulnerable.” I put a teasing emphasis on the word, knowing Roy hated it.

Sure enough, he growled. “You still find that sexy, right?”

“Very,” I assured him. I kissed his cheek. “I find it so sexy I’m thinking I’ll spend the night at your place again tonight.”

He smirked. “That’s three nights in a row.”

I shrugged. “What can I say? You’ve been very vulnerable lately. I can’t resist.”

“Imagine how much you’ll like me after my therapy session.” He pulled out his phone and glanced at it. “Which I am going to be fucking late for if I don’t get going.”

“Alright, go, go.” I planted one more kiss on his lips. “You’ve got this. I love you.”

An hour later, Roy returned to our office, where I was working out a schedule to send to Keeley so she could have some of the guys in an advertisement. As soon as I heard the familiar sound of Roy’s heavy footsteps, I whipped my chair around.

“So, how’d it go?” I asked in a cheery tone as Roy plopped into his chair.

He grunted, swiveling his chair from side to side. “Fine.”

I eyed him carefully, his expression unreadable. “You don’t have to tell me anything,” I assured him. “I just hope you found it helpful.”

Roy glanced through the window into Ted’s empty office. “Are they gone?”

I nodded. “Pretty much everyone’s already left for the day.”

“Good.” He pushed his chair closer to mine. “Doctor Sharon was good,” he started. “I, uh, told her about what happened with us. About all the shit the press I’ve had for, like, ever. About how Brittany Brett treated me. About having my watch stolen.” He paused. “Really fucking liked that watch too.”

“And did Doctor Sharon say anything you found helpful?” I asked, trying to get Roy back on track.

“A lot of the same shit the Diamond Dogs said, actually.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Communication, being willing to be vulnerable-”

I pretended to swoon. “My favorite word.”

He smirked. “And she talked about being very honest with you when something makes me uncomfortable or if I need something from you.” He leaned forward and grabbed my hands. “She also reminded me that you were very patient with me when I asked you to keep things quiet. That you have shown over and over that you care about me, just Roy, not about me as a football legend.”

I made a face. “D’you ever feel like a wanker when you call yourself a ‘legend’?”

“Why? Do I sound like one?” He wrinkled his nose.

“Just a bit.”

He chuckled. “Fuck me then. Anyway.” He squeezed my hands. “Doctor Sharon also said that we… should try to forgive each other.” His eyes searched mine. “So, I’m sorry. I’m sorry if I made you feel like a secret or like I was fucking ashamed to be with you. That was never what I wanted. I’m…” He paused, glancing down. “I’m very fucking proud to be with you, actually.” He cleared his throat. “You’re fucking amazing. Fucking smart as hell, and kind, and you’re great with Phoebe, and you love football, and you’re fucking fit.” His eyes flickered back to my face. “And most importantly, I fucking love you.” He took a deep breath. “So I hope you… forgive me.”

I leaned back in my chair, taking in every word Roy had just said. “I forgive you.” I leaned forward and kissed the tip of his nose. “And I’m sorry, Roy. For letting Brittany Brett get to me and not respecting what you had asked about keeping quiet. And for making you uncomfortable by being so pushy that night instead of having an adult conversation.” I offered an unsure smile. “Forgive me?”

“Course I fucking forgive you.” Roy’s ears were a deep red. “Alright, is that enough being vulnerable for today?”

I chuckled. “Sure, Roy.”

“Good.” Without warning he stood and picked me up, one arm under my legs and the other behind my back, smirking at my surprised squeal. “When we get home, you can show me how much you like me being vulnerable.”

“You fucking sure you have to go?” Roy had asked me the same question about twenty times on Friday evening from the moment we left work to the moment I tossed my overnight bag into his car.

I rolled my eyes, biting back a grin as I wrapped my arms around him. “Yes, Roy. Keeley’s gone all out planning this pyjama party and if I cancel on her I’m pretty sure she’ll murder me.”

“I don’t mind planning a funeral,” he muttered, kissing my face. “Might be kind of fun.”

I pretended to be offended. “Really? You’d let someone kill me so I don’t go to a fucking slumber party?”

He shrugged. “I… fucking like waking up with you next to me,” he muttered, rolling his eyes with embarrassment.

“You needy thing,” I mumbled, breaking out of his grip and opening the passenger door. “Come on, you said you’d be my chauffer.”

“Hold on, I've got somethin’ for you.” He disappeared into the house and came back out holding-

“Is that my fucking lucky sweater?” I gasped as he handed it to me. “You had it this whole fucking time?” I thew it on over the t-shirt I was wearing with my leggings. “You prick, I was busting my ass looking for this.”

Roy looked sheepish. “I meant to put it in the box Tartt took over to you,” he admitted. “But I just…” He shrugged. “I couldn’t.”

My annoyance gave way to soft affection. “Roy Kent, you sentimental fool,” I muttered, kissing his cheek. “Still have to take me to Keeley’s though.”

He grunted and helped me into the car. “Was worth a fucking shot.”

Keeley Jones had the perfect house for a good, old-fashioned slumber party. Everything was pink and neon and glittery and covered in feathers. She answered the door in the cutest pink-checkered pyjamas I’d ever seen, with her hair held in pigtails by matching pink pom-poms and fuzzy pink slippers on her feet.

“There you are!” she exclaimed, wrapping me in a hug. “Rebecca’s already inside, she’s making mimosas.”

“Oi!” Roy leaned out the car window, smirking at us. “Take good care of her, alright? I want her back in one piece.”

Keeley stuck out her tongue at him. “No boys allowed! You can have her back tomorrow!”

Roy rolled his eyes, still smirking, and waved before driving off. I turned to Keeley, who squealed excitedly and ushered me inside, where Rebecca greeted me with a kiss on the cheek and a glass in my hand. The three of us settled in Keeley’s living room, bubbly pop music blasting from a speaker as we clutched fluffy pillows and dug into the snacks Keeley had put out.

“Alright,” Keeley started, waggling her eyebrows. “Spill.”

I sipped my drink, trying to be casual. “About?”

Rebecca scoffed. “Don’t be coy. Tell us everything about you and Roy.” She made a face. “Shit. Didn’t mean to rhyme.”

A soft chuckle escaped my lips as I brought my knees to my chest, feeling every bit the young girl at a sleepover. “I mean, what’s there to say? We were together, that stupid article happened, we got back together. That’s it.”

“No, not all the drama,” Keeley said, wrinkling her nose. “We want the details.” She leaned in close. “Like, what he’s like when you’re alone. The dates you go on. That sort of thing.” She touched her glass to mine. “Of course, what’s said at pyjama parties, stays at pyjama parties, alright?”

I shot her a thankful smile. “Fine.” Another sip. “Roy’s… wonderful,” I sighed. “He’s so gentle and romantic. So fucking sweet to me.” I thought for a moment. “He cooks. Likes to make me my tea in the morning.” After a pause, I added, “He let me name his dog.”

“Roy has a dog?” Rebecca asked, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah, Oscar.” I grinned. “Named him after the Sesame Street character.”

Keeley giggled. “Oh shit, that’s so cute!”

We sat like that for hours, chattering and drinking, giggling and singing along to the songs that Keeley played. Finally, after a particularly spirited rendition of “Wannabe” at around midnight, Keeley perked up.

“I have a fabulous idea,” she announced, jumping to her feet with a surprising agility for someone who had lost count of her mimosas. We gazed at her expectantly. “What slumber party is complete without some pranks?”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “What’d you have in mind?”

An hour later, we stood in front of Roy’s house, chalk in hand.

“Oh no,” I protested. “Roy’s going to fucking kill us.”

“Come on, we already did Jamie’s house.” Keeley pouted. “We’ve gotta do your boyfriend’s house too.” She lit up like a Christmas tree and held up her piece of chalk. “Let’s get to work!”

Giggling and shushing one another like children, we tiptoed up Roy’s driveway and began drawing all over his driveway and walkway. Keeley, classy as always, drew very detailed anatomical pictures, while Rebecca doodled an exaggerated but sweet caricature of Roy. My vandalism was simple: a giant heart with our names inside.

Right as I was adding smaller hearts around my drawing, the door burst open.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

All three of us dropped our chalk.

“Run for it!” Keeley squealed, jumping up. “Looking fit Roy!” she called over her shoulder as she sprinted back to our Uber, Rebecca laughing behind her.

Before I could catch up, Roy’s arms wrapped around me. “Gotcha,” he grumbled, giving me a playful squeeze.

I looked up at him, completely drunk and in love. “Hi there.” Despite the number of times I’d slept next to him, I couldn’t help blushing at the sight of him shirtless.

His tired face softened. “What the fuck were you guys doing?” He stifled a yawn.

“Playing a prank,” I admitted. I pointed to the ground. “I drew that one.”

He looked down. “Cute,” he snorted. He glanced across the driveway, where the girls were clambering into the Uber. “You don’t have to go back with them, do you?” He was practically whining, something I’d never heard before.

I kissed his face. “I’ll see you in the morning. Go cuddle Oscar if you miss me so much.”

“But he doesn’t look nearly as fit as you do in my old kits.” He gave me a squeeze and kissed my forehead. “Go on, then. I’ll pick you up in the morning.”

As I sat in the back of the car listening to Keeley and Rebecca howl with laughter, I leaned my head back and smiled, feeling drunk and sleepy and lucky and so in love with Roy Kent, who I knew would pick me up in the morning with a smile on his face and a chocolate muffin in his hand.

Taglist: @optimisticsandwichgladiator @giggling-sewer-ginger @katdahlali @sonyume @djarindroid @reading-blogs @thezimi @benedictscanvasmain @wibblywobblyvampywolfystuff @puckyou-forpuckssake @old-enough-to-know-better73 @ladygrey03 @soundofboots @justsomefunshit @geekgirl1996 @tedssweaters @queen-of-dumbasses @miaalltheway @di-essere-amato @shakespeareanwannabe @hotdoglamp @mal-adaptive-dreams @allthetroubleiveseen @netflix-addict @callmecasey81 @forgetmeaway @royalestrellas @kingleahhh @lemoonandlestars @ghxxxf @jill2629-blog @sunderland-6

#roy kent superstar #he's here he's there he's every fucking where #roy kent #roy kent fanfic #roy kent fic #roy kent x reader #roy kent fanfiction #roy kent fluff #ted lasso #ted lasso fic #ted lasso fanfic

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yanderes-galore · 4 months

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Could I perhaps request Kung Lao (mk11) when the time merger happens he learns of his child from that future could it be a one shot with prompt :

63.) "You're my everything!"

Btw Have an amazing day :)

I tried to see what I could do with this! Wasn't that bad yandere-wise compared to what I usually write, hope you still like it! I didn't have much to go off of.... I was also rusty on MK11's plot so this is pretty much mostly spoiler free.

Yandere! Platonic! Kung Lao Prompt 63

Pairing: Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Overprotective behavior, Murder, Blood, Darling doesn't mind his lapse in judgement, Possible OOC Kung Lao, Darling just wants a father and accepts him, This could lead into a future fic but I'm out of ideas rn, Dubious companionship.

Kung Lao never thought he'd have a kid. That was the last thing he thought he'd see when the time merge happened. Yet here he is, his past self, meeting his future kid.

You too were confused. You never entirely met your dad before he became a revenant, only a few times. As a result, your encounters with him were only ever with the revenant form of your father.

While Kung Lao was shocked at the fact he even had a kid somewhere down the line, you're shocked at meeting your father alive. You didn't expect your father to be so… Arrogant at first. However, you didn't entirely blame him due to your bloodline.

Kung Lao was unsure how to warm up to you when he met you. He noted the fighting techniques you naturally shared with him and saw how well you've trained. Kung Lao actually… Pities you a bit considering his present counterpart's fate.

Due to the existence of his present counterpart and you, Kung Lao actually drops his arrogance. Instead he wants to focus on learning about you while fighting beside you. You deserve a good future, don't you?

While the events of Kronika's plan develops, you end up spending time getting to know Kung Lao and Liu Kang. You barely knew the two growing up but feel at ease with their younger counterparts. You feel a bit of resentment that you never got to have moments like this until now.

Liu Kang teases you and Kung Lao as you talk with one another. Usually it's something along the lines of how soft Kung Lao is with you instead of his usual arrogance. Kung Lao tries to brush him off, simply saying he's learned to appreciate other things than winning and proving himself.

Why does he have to prove himself when he has you right here?

It seems as though anything he talks about captivates you at times. The idea of that makes him a bit sad. You must've had a hard life, huh?

Kung Lao has a hard time denying the fact he's attached to you. He understands he doesn't belong in this timeline but he can't bring himself to just leave you alone. Is he really just supposed to leave you to the revenant version of himself?

No… He doesn't want that. He doesn't think you do either.

As time passes Kung Lao finds himself unable to let you go. You'd be so alone without him, right? Clearly… He has to do something, right?

Kung Lao ignored the fact you were a mature adult. He still thought of you as a kid, his kid, that he's meant to protect. So for you… He'll make an exception to the pacifist rule.

You've been told your father was a reckless pacifist at heart. Which is why when Kung Lao returned to you after an attack… Covered in blood… You felt a pang of fear in your heart. This… This was still your father, right?

Kung Lao ignored your changed mindset towards him. Even when you asked why he changed his ways so suddenly afterwards… He gave you an eerily calm smile. One on any other bloodthirsty warrior would make sense… But not your father.

“I've learned sometimes more lethal violence is necessary to protect what you fight for…” Kung Lao hums, quickly pulling you into a hug. You remain stunned in his arms… It's the welcoming hug a parent would give… But felt wrong here. “Was I supposed to just let you get hurt?”

You pause your fear and think on his words. Kung Lao, even when he wasn't your Kung Lao, killed to protect you. You meant that much to him… The thought soon begins to soothe you more than scare you.

“You're my everything.” Kung Lao mumbles while holding you. This felt… Natural. This felt like it was meant to be. Why were you denied this before?

You felt the same, checking to make sure you were in private before huddling closer despite the blood.

Part of you yearned for this…

Even if you were unaware of the dark changes you stirred within this past version of your father.

#yandere mortal kombat #yandere mortal kombat 11 #yandere kung lao #platonic yandere #yandere platonic kung lao

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blinkpen · 4 months

Text

nother lil life update!

appointment with housing admin lady got rescheduled to tuesday, but that's not too big a deal since that is the soonest day they could officially open up that apartment for me anyway, so if the answer was going to be yes, rescheduling when i get the yes to said day, doesn't delay the move-in, except by like, maybe, one more additional day of just. going back to get/move my stuff? so i am Unbothered and maintain the same level of cautious optimism leaned optimism as before

and again my stress level is way lower now knowing there is likely a light at the end of the tunnel (hell that a tunnel even EXISTS now) and mom is, at least for now, sobered by the intervention of other adults for whom going

"ummmmm but the very existence of trans identity is a personal attack against me and my beliefs bc i believe their existence is blasphemous they stole the rainbow from christians and desecrated the noah's arc story that's why i'm so mean to [not my fucking pronoun] whenever anything remotely close to the topic of gender comes up, asking nicely to so mach as -gag noises- humor they/them is a deliberate attack on me first, and forcing the queer agenda on me, so i get to attack back with full venom unloaded and vote in favor of making queer peoples' lives more difficult if not impossible, so like, i'm the victim actually? [not my fucking pronoun] needs to stop being so entitled and unholy and learn to deal with Different Opinions and stop Undermining me"

will not fucking fly and she can't make inflict Power Word: Guilt Trip to make them crumple away the way she does to me to instantly win and make the argument stop so she is now not pushing buttons and keeping her toxicity to herself methinks bc "ah fuck, an actually benevolent authority figure nobody in town would question is looking at how much my grown but wingclipped and disabled child's mental and now physical health has deteriorated to life-threateningly poor levels and looking in my direction while Knowing details i cannot possibly spin in my favor to outside observers; the only people who'd swoop in to take my side would only make me look worse by association, though i'll probably still refuse to think about The Implications of that, so i will Be Mask On now about it if nothing else"

like she got a stark fucking reminder i think of the fact she is a mean person who publicly boasts about being mean because she thinks its funny and also equates being smart with being cynical and therefore if you're aggressively cynical you're automatically smarter than whoever you are talking to or about, and is the kind of person who literally owns a "leftist tears" coffee mug, while claiming herself a Good christian just because she didn't kick me out for being queer like the Bad christians do, but like, she can still give me shit for being queer as much as she likes and if i stand up for myself i'm an ungrateful little bitch, those are her Vibes,

and being that way, makes it hard to defend yourself as totally innocent of any wrongdoing and victim-blame someone most people in town know, by contrast, as "the borderline mute Always a Hoodie n Headphones kid who spends a lot of time just wandering around town for the heck of it and seems a bit touched in the head/lost in their own little world, but is unfailingly friendly if you do try to talk to them for whatever reason, and will sincerely ask if they could be of any assistance to anyone who enters their cone of vision who seems to be in a pickle" once they start developing what seems like a wasting illness and an aura of hopelessness they didn't have before and finally show up at the hospital looking like they're about to drop dead from what is clearly several months of physiological stress and self-neglect and they don't even have their meds handy because you locked their disabled ass out in retaliation for leaving for one single night because you wouldn't stop screaming at them about how their gender thing is blasphemous and [checks notes] eavesdropping in on them while they shower to make sure not even their anguished crying and muttering to themself even in there isn't saying anything you don't like??? what the f-

even the crusty old farmer i know who i guess probably would go "not sure i like that but whatever" about transness otherwise enters "now what makes you think that makes [not my pronoun but i forgive bc its not done Maliciously] less of a person, what makes you think that's okay" mode over that

lol, said the frog, as a human hand scoops it out of the water just in time, and places it on a nice log where it may recover from the sting, while pointing to the sinking scorpion suggesting they go to therapy instead of stinging everyone around them and going "but i'm a scorpion so that means i am not responsible for my actions and nobody is allowed to expect better of me" lmao,

okay that went from a life update to me venting a bit? but. i eared that i think, it helps keep my grounded, hoenstly.

anyway we gotta send my doc a fruit basket or somn

#cw for discussions of transphobia and all that

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archivallyfound09 · 10 months

Text

Stars & Stripes pt.2

Summary: Jake meets a new girl on base and pursues her, not realizing that she may be exactly what he needed all along.

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x reader (no y/n, afab) Warnings: Everything is mature folks, swearing, drinking, adult-y stuff- the usual rules for my stuff :)

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"I'm sorry....you...went for a JOG?"

Horrified, her hands flew up to take her phone off of speaker.

"Yes, sometimes I do actually enjoy going out and getting some fresh air and being near the-"

"Oh cut the shit, who is he?" The stuttering that happened on the other end of the line confirmed the suspicions. "See- I knew it. You pick up a weird random hobby when there's a guy around."

"Actually, if you must know," her tone was still a bit shaky, but the confidence was returning, "I went out for a run hoping to avoid the guy I literally ran into last night."

The loud male chuckle on the other end made her blood steam. "You went for a jog on the one road that leads to the military base and it's hangers to avoid the one guy who was clearly going to go to work on the military base and it's hangers...."

"Shut up, Edward," she tried to growl, a smile pulling at her lips, "maybe you should've left me a map!"

"I'm back in two weeks. You think you can handle yourself until then, Magellan?" She rolled her eyes and gave an affirmative. "Alright, good. Stay out of trouble, okay? Can't beat anyone up for hitting on my lil' sis!" She groaned at the nickname- though they weren't related Eddie had been in her life far longer than any of her other siblings. He had certainly been around enough to know all of her annoyances.

"Goodbye Edward."

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Jake tapped his eraser on the tip of his front tooth, clearly not interested in the recounting of Rooster's latest conquest. This time, Coyote wasn't the only one to notice Hangman's clear disinterest. Normally, it would become a one-upping contest, with someone making an outrageous lie, being called on it, and then the liar being forced to get the first round of drinks that night.

The day had passed relatively uneventfully. Hangman had been correct- Maverick had swapped him for Rooster to fly with Phoenix and Bob. Their unsuccessful kill made him feel much better about the decision.

He had gone up with Harvard and Yale and, though unsuccessful, they had come much closer to hitting their target. Hangman internally clung to his two confirmed air kills and puffed out his chest and shrugged when Maverick asked what went wrong. He partook in his push-ups silently (shockingly according to Phoenix) and then had wound up here, sitting on top of his desk ignoring Rooster's antics.

Fanboy had had enough. "Alright, Hard Deck, let's go!" Everyone let out a halfhearted cheer and looked at the clock, thrilled to see they had meet their training requirements. Normally, Monday was a bit early for drinks, but with the impending mission looming in the distance and the inability of anyone to complete the simulation successfully, it was the one thing Fanboy knew they needed.

He also got no resistance and ignored the voice in his head that said "You're all crazy and alcoholics."

-------

For a Monday night, the Hard Deck was just about empty. A few booths were taken up by a couple or two, a rescheduled first date, and a small group of women who were clearly just trying to get away from their kids for a few hours.

Penny looked up from the bar amusedly. Her arched eyebrow asked "that bad, huh?" and Fanboy and Coyote's fervent nods confirmed her fears. She was still figuring out her stuff with Pete, but whatever this mission was, he was putting these kids through hell.

"Alright, first round on me. After that, your problem, ok?" There was a tired, but relieved cheer that went around as Penny pulled the draft pull and started filling pints. Hangman took one of the first poured and raised it up to their fabulous bartender, winning a smile from Penny.

Soon the group had settled after a beer or two (or 4 in Bob's case...) over near the pool table and the darts. Hangman had played Coyote twice and smoked him, so he had moved on to Fanboy and pool. Rooster had tried to go to the piano twice but had been persuaded away by Phoenix and Halo, begging him to wait until Friday night (and not wanting to disturb literally everyone else in the bar).

"Hey Penny- tried to find the screw setter bits for the drywall in the back, but hardware store was fresh out. They say they'll have them in Thursday- want me to hed back then?"

Fanboy had spotted her first. Then Coyote, then Phoenix, then-

"Hey, Hangmaaaaan. Look who's here!!" Rooster's voice cut through every conversation like a knife. Hangman rolled his eyes, half expecting to see Jesus Christ himself at the bar after Bradshaw's introduction.

What Jake had not intended for was that the woman he had met last night (and again this morning on her run) was standing in the same, semi-empty bar that he was in. She had heard Rooster's idiocy and peered over Penny's shoulder to lock eyes with him. She gave him a small smile, doe-eyes twinkling, and then it turned into a stifled laugh, her lips curling into each other as he looked down.

It was then that he felt it: Jake had managed to spill was was left of his beer on his lap. As the cold liquid settled on his thigh, he jumped up, pushing it further down his leg, into his sock and onto the floor. The entire squad around him had seen the fiasco and were losing it. Over the cackled and jeers, Coyote had made his way up and placed a sympathetic hand on Jake's shoulder.

"Smooth move, Seresin! You gotta leave some ladies for the rest of us!"

Hangman rolled his eyes and headed away from the group and up to the bar. In the moment since he had held her gaze, she had vanished. Penny handed him a dry bartowel and gave him a bit of a smirk.

"You hurt my girl, Lieutenant, I'll make sure you never see the sky again."

Jake smiled and finished wiping down his pants, handing the rag back.

"Yes ma'am," he shot her his thousand dollar smile and headed out the front doors, leaving the crew to their laughing fits.

-----------

"Hey Stripes!"

She froze, her hand on the key in the ignition. She had left the window down due to the cool ocean breeze (and the broken A/C), but she was thrilled that she had. Here came sex on a plate, running out to her car, calling her name (kinda), and wanting to talk to her. THe butterflies had migrated up into her ribcage and she felt like she was vibrating.

In the bar it had taken everything in her to waltz in as cool as she did. She had spotted Jake's car from this morning in the parking lot (along with the rest of the team- she didn't exactly get new neighbors in military housing) and she had spent 15 minutes outside trying to get her cheeks to stop flushing and her heart to stop pounding out of her chest.

"This is ridiculous," she told herself over and over again, pacing a line into the gravel parking lot, "You met a guy, IN THE DARK, and are now acting like this? Come on, you're not that shallow...but maybe he's nice and sweet and-" She could hear Eddie's voice now "HE'S A GUY. And a military one at that! You know what he wants..."

She finally had calmed her conniption down enough to go in (after rehearsing the line to Penny over and over again in her head), but when she saw him in the back, the orange glow of the lighting and the wood against his tan skin, his blond hair a bit more tidy than when she had met him last night, the top of his uniform undone, she froze. It felt like a magnet had locked her in place and all she could see in the room was him.

Once the beer had started to tip, the magnetic field broke. She stifled a laugh and Penny rolled her eyes, nodding towards the door with a knowing glance. She had heard Penny give "the talk" to Eddie lots of times when she was visiting, but this was the first time it was going to be threatened on her behalf.

She walked slow, countered step to the Jeep and sat in the cool air and silence for a few moments. Everything seemed like an eternity, so just as she was about to turn on the ignition and play (literally) hard to get, she heard his voice.

His forearms crossed and were over the precipice of her open window in seconds. She could see the slightest shine of sweat near his hairline and the few freckles that coated his nose. He was so close that-

Her eyes finally met his. She was completely lost in the pale green eyes that stared back at hers, the smile lines crinkling in the corners, the slight glint of the setting sun. She felt time slow down and could feel every pinprick of sweat start to form on her skin.

What she didn't know is that the man standing in front of her was even more enraptured by the woman in his view. He tried desperately to capture every detail of her face, every fleck of color in her eyes, every dotted freckle, the way her lashes curled at the ends, the slight pink that dusted her cheekbones- Jake was terrified he was going to forget something.

It was her smile that finally broke him out of his panic. She had taken in a deep breath, her lips slightly parting as she adjusted herself in the driver's seat. She handed him a small piece of paper.

"We can't keep bumping into each other like this, " she said, confident but also completely unsure of herself. Jake quickly opened the paper and smiled. He saw a name and a phone number.

"Nice to officially meet you, Stripes," he smiled, giving her a small Texas bow. She giggled.

"Nice to officially meet you too, Hangman."

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#top gun maverick #jake hangman seresin #hangman top gun #jake seresin #jake hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #top gun hangman

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