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loafgeto · 6 months

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BOY BEST FRIEND'S BROTHER | choso

choso kamo x fem!reader

synopsis: you and yuji are the closest in your little group of friends, but there’s one secret you haven’t told him: you have a huge crush on his eldest brother.

contents: fem!reader, 18+ mdni, explicit language, she/her pronouns, virgin reader, foreplay, dirty talking, praising, cunninglus, fingering, overstimulation, orgasms, corruption kink, protected sex → unprotected sex, pet names (baby, angel), soft/gentle choso. fluff at the end(?), not proofread!!

word count: 7.1k (longest one yet😍)

notes: reposted for the millionth time… pls, let me just feed my readers.

You’ve known Yuji ever since your first year of high school. The two of you became exceptionally close, as if you both were born in the same womb. He was like your older brother— since he was older than you, and extremely supportive and kind. Sure he enjoyed playing jokes and messing around with you, and there would be bickers between the two of you, but you both would find ways to solve your problems.

A lot of people have easily mistaken you two to be in a relationship, it was normal for the two of you. Some asked if you’ve kissed, or even fucked. Of course, none of those are true— but most assume you’re just too shy to admit.

Either way, you and Yuji don’t allow the misconceptions of others impact your relationship. It’s been roughly four years since the two of you became friends. And honestly, it’s good to say you two know each other from the back of your heads. There were never much secrets or anything hidden between the two of you.

Well, except one.

You know Yuji never forces you to tell him everything but he was always the first person you’d go to when something happened or came to your mind. It was a secret you’ve been quiet about for an entire year, and it’s gotten to the point where you’re starting to feel guilty for not telling Yuji.

It was a month before this secret of yours occurred. You were invited to Yuji’s house due to the amounts of homework assigned and you planned to stay the night. You knew Yuji had three older brothers, but you’ve only ever met two of them. His eldest brother was occasionally occupied with his job and was barely home, so you never met him until that night.

When you first met Choso, it was like the same interaction you had with his other brothers. You both shook hands and introduced each other, but he was rather reserved and didn’t necessarily want to converse much due to the workload he receives each day. You couldn’t blame Choso though, and figured he’d come around.

Well, it was more like you did.

You found yourself spending most days at Yuji’s house, especially when Choso was around. You both grew quite a bond, and Yuji was extremely happy to see his best friend get along with all of his three brothers. Choso used to return home around 10pm each weekday night, but after a couple months, he begin returning around 6pm.

This gave you more interactions with Choso, and eventually, you began developing feelings for him.

You couldn’t grasp how or when you started receiving these feelings about him. It was just— one day, you were looking at him and talking to him, unable to break your gaze while your heart raced quick. You were flustered, breaking your words and trying to remain calm. Choso never brought the fact up either, and seemed rather unaware about it.

And you were embarrassed to tell Yuji about your huge crush on his elder brother, so you just remained silent and pretended as if nothing was bothering you. Of course, Yuji often noticed your moods and always questioned what was worrying you, but you always dismiss it and claim you were just having a gloomy day.

Yuji had no reason to question you further. He was an optimistic person, who causally lightens the mood of others and makes the atmosphere more pleasant and cheery. And because Yuji perceives your relationship with his brothers as casual and friendly, he never suspected anything.

You've seen numerous situations where someone had a major crush on their best friend's sibling, and the outcome was either good, or bad. And now that you're in the situation, you anticipated on the worse outcome.

"Hello? Y/n?" Yuji taps your shoulder, causing you to snap away from your thoughts. You turn to him and he chuckles. "What are you thinking so much about?"

"Oh. Nothing, of course. I'm just dozing off easily today," you reply with a small smile. You couldn't admit to Yuji that you were day dreaming about his older brother.

"Is something bothering you? Like for real?" Yuji tilts his head, sounding genuinely concerned. He noted that this behavior has been frequent, and he worried that you were facing issues that caused you to daze away like this.

"Not really. I'm just getting small sleep, that's all. Don't worry too much," you try to reassure Yuji, and your friend nods, seeming to back off since it appeared you didn't want to talk further more about it.

"Well.. anyway, wanna have a sleepover tonight? All of my brothers are home, plus it's a three day weekend! We can all stay up and play games- oh! Or even watch an entire movie franchise- like the Hunger Games with Jennifer Lawrence!" Yuji quickly switches the topic, sounding enthusiastic as he mentions this sleepover.

Sleepovers were common between you and Yuji, and your parents even paid no mind to Yuji spending the night at your place. So, you accepted. Not only because the sleepover was going to be fun, but because Choso was going to be there too. Your heart began beating fast as the image of Choso pops in your head and you refrained yourself from smiling too much in front of Yuji.

"I'll come by around 5. Gotta pack my stuff and help mom cook rice before I leave," you inform Yuji, who nods while pulling out his phone.

"I wish Megumi and Nobara can join us, sucks that they're going out of town this weekend," Yuji sighs in disappointment.

Your other two friends- Nobara and Megumi, were often occupied with their own things. There were several times where you four had sleepovers other than hanging out, but you all still were the bests of friends. You heard that Nobara was going to another city for her weekend, while Megumi was visiting his dad a few towns outside of Tokyo.

“Come on, let’s head back to class,” Yuji says, groaning as he jumps out of the chair he was in.

Lunch period was about to end soon, so the two of you left the cafeteria and joined up with your friends that were already in the classroom. Needless to say, the rest of the school day flashed by at an instant and you were already heading home.

You were honestly too excited as you walked the entire way home with Nobara, since she lived a few streets away from you. While she was babbling about some of her shopping experiences, you were pondering about what to wear, what perfumes to bring, or whatever would get Choso’s attention. Should I wear my expensive lingerie just incase? You thought.

“You’re not even listening to me,” Nobara nudges you away from your thoughts and you turn to her with an apologetic expression.

“I’m sorry, Nobara. I’m just spacing out a lot today,” you give the same excuse, smiling awkwardly.

“You’re always spacing out,” Nobara smirks before leaning close. “You got a boy on your mind?”

Blood quickly rushes to your cheeks and you turn to her, immediately shaking your head to which she laughs.

“Hah! Yes you fucking do have a crush on someone!” Nobara’s smile grows wider as she steps closer to you. “Come on~ tell me! Who is it? I won’t tell anyone! Oh, let me guess- Yu—“

“What! No, no! No way, definitely not Yuji!” you decline quick, glaring at Nobara.

“Well that means you do like someone though.”

“I don’t.”

“Don’t lie, yes you do!” Nobara huffs, furrowing her brows as she continues to nag you about your crush. But you just didn’t answer her at all. “Come on, I won’t tell a soul. Not even Megumi!”

“Bye, Nobara. My house is this way,” you roll your eyes at her with a grin, as you quickly retreat down your street to your house.

“Y/n!! I’m going to find out!!” Nobara shouts after you.

You sigh, feeling relieved that Nobara didn’t follow you and further inquire you about your crush. Of course, it wouldn’t necessarily be bad to tell her or anyone at all, but you still felt embarrassed, let alone anxious.

For one, Nobara had a thing for Choso. Well, it wasn’t necessarily a huge fat crush, but she considered him to be quite attractive and would definitely date him. Yuji heard the statement, of course, and immediately declined her being his older brother’s girlfriend. So imagine Yuji reacting to your crush on Choso.

Well, you didn’t want to imagine it further.

Shaking those thoughts away, you quickly enter your house. You change into a set of comfortable clothes before entering the kitchen to prepare rice so that your mother would have less work to do when she arrives home. You texted your parents that you’d be staying at Yuji’s afterwards, and got to packing.

You were probably going to stay the entire weekend, so you packed enough clothes until then. You gathered your woman products, skin products and shower products and other essentials you needed. And just incase, you wore your nice and expensive lingerie.

Not that you expected anything to happen, though you were somewhat hopeful. It was easy to imagine because you’re still a virgin. And it was imaginary to have Choso be your first time. But you just couldn’t help it at all.

You left the house afterwards and made your way to the nearest bus stop to get to Yuji’s house. He lived farther away from you, though it wouldn’t hurt walking there by feet, you just decided to take the bus since it’d be easier for you.

The bus ride lasted 20 minutes and soon enough, you arrived in Yuji’s quiet and welcoming neighborhood. You didn’t know a lot about their parents, but Choso was primarily the one taking care of his siblings. He worked countless of jobs, trying to earn enough money while going to school. He honestly did everything for his younger brothers, and he was able to get them all a nice house in the neighborhood. You admired Choso for that too.

You step onto the porch, pushing your suitcase with you before pressing the doorbell. It was about 5pm, so Choso mustn't been home yet. You waited by the door for several minutes, and heard footsteps on the other side of the door.

As the door clicked and swung open, you expected to see a smiling Yuji standing there- but instead, it was Choso. Your mouth slightly dropped as you saw him. Of course, you didn't expect to greet him first.

"Oh, you're here," Choso says, stepping to the side to allow you inside. "Need me to carry your stuff?"

"Ah, no, it's fine," you give Choso a reassuring grin, feeling blood rush to your cheeks as you stepped into the house. Choso nods, closing the door afterwards and follows you into the living room. "Where's Yuji?"

"He's in the game room with Kechizu and Eso," Choso replies, watching as you push your suitcase close to one of the sofas and he returns his attention to your figure. "Do you want to try my cream puffs?"

"Cream puffs?" you turn to him, raising a brow. You notice that he was wearing an apron, long sleeves rolled past his elbows, and hair tied back into his usual two high pony tails. He wore his usual aloof expression, but when it came to you, his expression seemed to soften.

Choso nods. "Yuji told me you were sleeping over this weekend, so I decided to try making cream puffs. I've only made three so far," he replies, directing you into the kitchen.

You follow him, smiling and becoming even more excited to try the dessert he prepared. "I would love to try some."

Choso grabs a plate with three cream puffs on the top as you followed him. He turns to you, gesturing you to take one. “This is my first time making them, so tell me how they are.”

You nod, taking the cream puff in the middle. You examined the dessert for a brief moment, it looked tasty of course and for Choso’s first time making them, it was amazing already. You smile at him before taking a decent bite out of the cream puff. You could taste buttery and lightly rich flavor, especially with the pastry’s cream.

“They’re amazing, Choso! You should definitely make some more,” your eyes brighten and your smile becomes wider as you take another bite of the cream puff. Choso was initially a great cook, and anything he made would turn out perfect.

“I’m really glad you like them,” Choso couldn’t help but grin at your reaction to the pastries.

Hearing you compliment him made him feel some sort of way he couldn’t describe. Maybe it was from all of the years spent working hard to make sure his siblings got what they needed to live a happy life. He never stopped to take care of himself, or done anything in his own time since he was always working or taking care of his brothers. Choso never complained or expressed his concerns, exhaustion or anything to his brothers, due to not wanting them to worry. And they always assumed he was just fine.

Choso decided to try one of the cream puffs next, surprised at how good they actually turned out. He was definitely going to make more and share with his brothers, and you, of course. He was glad that he took time off work today.

“I’ll make some more. You can join Yuji and the others upstairs,” Choso says, placing the plate down before returning to the rest of his baking materials to create more of the pastry.

“I can help— if you want,” you offer with a smile and he turns to face you again.

Choso contemplated, but he nods his head shortly afterwards. “Sure. Just put on an apron.”

You nod before walking over to the wooden drawer beneath the kitchen counter. You pulled it out before grabbing a simple white apron with a bunny sewed onto it. After lacing it around you and washing your hands, you joined Choso’s side.

As he was beginning to demonstrate on how to combine the pieces of the cream puff, your mind quickly went somewhere else. The idea of you being alone with Choso made your heart skip beats, and you could feel your face becoming hotter as you realize how close you were to him.

It felt as if you two were on a home cooking date. It was insane to think about such things, especially if you aren’t even dating— but you couldn’t help it at all.

“It’s quite simple and easy once you get the gist of it,” Choso remarks as he finishes creating his cream puff. He then hands you the piping bag with the cream filling and gestures you to fill the choux pastry prepared beforehand.

You take the piping bag into your own hands as Choso moves to the side, observing how you moved your hands. You were becoming nervous, feeling his gaze directly on you and you were definitely going to mess up.

“You got this. There’s no need to be anxious,” Choso assures, pressing a hand against your back to relieve some tension. "Here."

Choso stands behind of you, his build completely towering over you as he places his hands over yours. You didn’t move an inch as he begins guiding your hands with the piping bag to fill the choux pastry, and you could feel his hot breath lightly brush against your ear.

You could feel your heart pounding in your eardrums and you turn your head slightly, noticing how close his face was to yours. Everything about him was just so appealing, and you wish you could just kiss him in that moment.

“Got it?” Choso questions.

“Yeah.. I got it,” you reply with a nod as Choso removes his hands away from yours, but he still remained standing behind you as you picked up the cream puff that was just made.

You took a bite out of it, not noticing Choso was still there and turn around. “Choso?”

Choso tilts his head, noticing how some of the cream got on the side of your mouth. “You got some on your mouth,” he says and lifts his hand, using his thumb to brush off the cream. The gesture was completely unexpected and you swore your heart could leap out of your chest.

He was still so close to you, and you refrained from making any awkward or flustered expressions as he licks the cream off his thumb. You both stare at each other for a brief moment after that, not speaking until Choso initiates a step closer to you.

“Y/n, there’s something I want to ask you,” Choso begins and he reaches for your hand.

At that moment, alarms went off in your head and you’re internally panicking. This was one of the moments you’ve been dreaming of and waiting for, but you don’t even know how to react properly. You open your mouth, about to respond as he was leaning forward to grab your hand.

“Do you-“ Choso starts to say, but he was completely cut off when someone rushes down the stairs.

“Big bro, is Y/n here—?!” Yuji’s voice echoes from the stairs. Your eyes widen slightly as you drop the cream puff from your hand and quickly push Choso away when Yuji steps into the kitchen. “yet— oh, you are here! When did you get here?!”

You give Yuji a bright smile as you walk past Choso, patting your hands against your apron. “Been here for a little bit. Just decided to help Choso make some cream puffs, since you were busy playing video games,” you reply, furrowing your brows at Yuji.

Yuji slaps his hands together and slightly lowers his head. “Sorry, forgive me!”

“It’s fine. I got to eat some cream puffs though!”

“Whaat, big bro, are you still making some?!” Yuji asks, tilting his head to look at Choso who was picking up the cream puff you dropped.

“Yeah,” Choso nods, not giving you or Yuji a look before facing his back against the two of you. “I’ll make some more. You guys go have fun.”

“Great!” Yuji excitedly replies before returning his gaze back to you. “Come on, come on. Kechizu just got a new multiplayer game for all of us to try and play! We need a fourth player!”

You give Yuji a nod before he starts walking out of the kitchen. You remove the apron from your body and glance at Choso, who still had his back facing against you. You didn’t want to blame Yuji for ruining the moment, but you were curious on why Choso acted like that.

Well, it wasn’t like you could inquire about it since Yuji came back to drag you away. But it remained occupied in your head as you joined Yuji and his other two brothers in their video game.

Choso shortly joined after, bringing along a small plate of at least 10 cream puffs. He didn’t utter anything and just quietly sat on one of the bean bags while you, Yuji, Eso, and Kechizu all bickered loudly over the video game.

You glanced at him occasionally, and he had that same aloof expression while watching the four of you. The two of you would make short eye contact, but you’d always be the one to break away first. You felt flustered— embarrassed, especially because that moment in the kitchen earlier remained in your mind.

For the remainder of the evening, you avoided long eye contact with Choso. The atmosphere continued to be cheery, as Yuji and his other brothers were lightening the mood with their loud voices and enthusiasm. It got you distracted for a while.

When dinner time came around, Yuji suggested takeout instead so Choso didn’t have to cook, and Kechizu ordered a large family takeout platter from a local Japanese restaurant. You ended sitting next to Choso while you all were dining, and it was somewhat awkward. But you and Choso didn’t make it obvious, so there were no further complications.

Afterwards, the five of you gathered by the large TV in Yuji’s room and watched one of the Hunger Games movies— because Yuji wanted to. It was boring, since you’ve all seen the series countless of times but Yuji would never get bored of it.

And shortly enough, you all fall into a deep slumber.

It was late into the night now, and you happen to wake up several hours after everyone else had fallen asleep. The entire house was quiet, and you could hear the faint sounds of everyone sleeping, minus Eso’s snores.

You adjusted your eyes to the darkness around you, before getting up slowly. You were lying on Yuji's bed while Yuji was on the other side, hands and legs sprawled out. Kechizu and Eso were sleeping on Yuji's couch by the TV, and Choso was sleeping while sitting up on one of the bean bags.

Ignoring your thoughts, you close your eyes in order to return to sleep. But no matter what, you just couldn’t. After tossing and turning to find a comfortable position, you decided to get up for a glass of water.

You leave Yuji’s bed and slip out the room and quietly walk down the stairs. You read the clock by the door, and it was about 2:30 in the morning. You enter the kitchen, walking towards the fridge and opening it before grabbing a cold water bottle.

The image of Choso popped in your head again, and you could only let out a sigh. Who knew what was going to happen now? Was it going to be awkward— or would you two act as if nothing’s happened? You quickly open the lid of the bottle before gulping down half of the liquid. You figured if you didn’t act awkward, and as if nothing happened, then the two of you would be fine.

“Y/n?”

Choso calling out to you immediately causes you to jump slightly from your spot, and you turn to him with a surprised expression before glaring. “Please don’t scare me like that.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” Choso replies, stepping further into the kitchen. Even though it was dark, you could still see his silhouette and as he went closer, you were able to see his face. “Can’t sleep?”

You shake your head, putting the water bottle in your hand down on the kitchen counter. “I guess I’m still energetic from earlier— when we were playing the games,” you reply a lie, not wanting to admit that he was the reason why you couldn’t sleep.

Choso went silent for a moment, until he approached you closer. “Can we talk about what happened before that?”

“H-Huh? Before that?”

“I wanted to ask you something,” Choso continues, now standing directly in front of you. His dark eyes pierced into yours, and your heart rate began pacing fast again. “Y/n, how do you feel about me?”

“I..” it took you several moments to even utter something, as you were completely astonished from his blunt question. He was so close to you, watching how you reacted while desperately waiting for an answer. But before you could even continue your answer, Choso sighs softly.

“I didn’t mean to put you in an awkward position. You don’t have to answer my question if you aren’t comfortable,” Choso starts backing away, lifting an hand to awkwardly rub the back of his neck. “Just forget I asked and we can just act as if nothing happened.”

Choso turns around, starting to walk out. You’re uncertain of what to do, but your body responds before your brain could and you follow him. You quickly wrap your arms around his waist and press your face against his broad back.

“I like you, Choso,” you murmur, but enough for him to hear clearly.

There was a brief pause before Choso turns around to face you. At that moment, you couldn’t describe how you felt— you were just all over the place since you basically confessed. His eyes were slightly wide, but he looked relieved and a smile forms on his lips.

Choso doesn’t reply and only pulls you forward in order to press his lips against yours. With no hesitation, you return the kiss as your hands grip his shirt. The moment was surreal, and even it if was just a dream, you wanted to feel the moment.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to kiss you,” Choso speaks once he pulls away, keeping his lips near yours. “Been waiting too long.”

“Me too.. Been wanting you ever since we met, Choso,” you reply, nearly unable to meet his gaze until he kisses you once again.

“I’ve been bad. So fucking bad,” Choso continues as he pulls away again, gently pushing you back against the wall before smashing his lips onto yours more passionately. You let out a soft moan into his mouth as you feel his body press against yours. Choso places a hand on your hip, while the other moves to hold your jaw. He pulls away again, “I was always thinking about you. Always thinking about how I could make you mine. I even changed my shifts so that I can come home early to see you whenever you visited.”

“C-Choso..”

You pull Choso back to kiss him again, sparing him no time to continue rambling about his feelings but it was very much mutual. The moment was tensed with passion, and you both quickly became addicted to one another.

Choso moves his lips to your cheek, down to pepper kisses on your jaw and then along your neck. You bite your lower lip, unable to refrain the arousal you were receiving from him.

“W-Want you s’bad.. Choso..” you mutter with a short whimper, a hand going up to grasp his hair that was becoming loose. “Have always wanted to feel your kisses.. and your touch.”

Choso grits his teeth. Goodness, you were too cute. He still honestly couldn’t believe that you reciprocated his feelings. You were always with Yuji, laughing snd smiling— always having a good time. Choso, like many others, found it easy to believe that you were infatuated with Yuji.

“Damn it. You make me want to ruin you,” Choso quietly says before he gently takes your hands into his. “Come on.”

He leads you back up the stairs and pass Yuji’s room, where everyone else remains dead asleep, and quietly into his room down the hall. When you both enter inside, he quickly shuts the door before pulling you close for a deep kiss.

The room was filled with the soft sounds of your kissing and muffled noises, and Choso couldn’t seem to keep his hands away from you. He walks you back towards his bed and pushes you down, lips still against yours.

You tug Choso’s shirt as his body hovers over you. He was showering you with kisses all over your face and body, touching you like how you’ve always imagined him doing. “Fuck.. touch me more,” you coo as Choso moves to kiss your jaw.

“Where do you want me to touch you?” Choso asks, brushing his hand over your thigh.

“I-I don’t know.. everywhere-“ you reply, quite uncertain. You were practically new to this but no matter where Choso touched, he was able to pleasure you either way.

“You have to be more specific so I don’t make you uncomfortable,” Choso frowns slightly, lessening his touch on your inner thigh which makes you squirm. He acknowledged that you were inexperienced and timid, but he remained patient. “Do you want to show me instead?”

You nod, guiding his hand near your inner thighs. He understood quite frankly, seeing how much of a mess you already were under him. Choso gives you another kiss, but on the forehead before rubbing his hand against your inner thigh, causing you to tremble slightly.

It all was causing you to soak your panties, and you guide Choso’s hand that was on your thigh underneath the shorts you were wearing. You had no idea what came over you, but at that moment, it didn’t matter. Even Choso was surprised with your gesture but he didn’t stop.

You felt the tip of Choso’s fingers rub against your wet folds and you moan softly as a response. “You’re so wet..” Choso comments quietly, proceeding to rub two of his fingers against you before pushing them in.

The sensation of his fingers spreading you causes you to gasp and you return your hand to grip his shirt. Choso doesn’t move his fingers, instead he waits for you to adjust to them.

“Do you want me to stop?” He asks next but you quickly shake your head.

“K-Keep going..” you murmur, and Choso could feel your walls clench around his two fingers.

Choso could feel blood rush to his already hardened dick, and he starts pumping his fingers in an out of you at steady pace. He was still able to receive soft moans from you, and you held him close as he gradually starts increasing his pace.

Shortly after, he slips off your shorts and underwear, spreading your legs apart to thrust his fingers deeper. You hold back your louder moans, as it was still late into the night and you can’t wake the others up.

Choso peppers kisses against your chest before moving down for your crotch area. He gives you a glance and you nod before he latches his mouth against your clit and slowly began moving the same fingers in and out of you. Your moans start to penetrate through your sealed lips, and your hand grips Choso’s hair.

His circles his tongue around your clit slowly and lazily, and curled his fingers to rub your g-spot. “Always thinking about this pussy. So, so beautiful,” he comments.

You moan as a response, indicating that he was pleasuring you too well. You have never felt his sensation before, but you knew damn well that it was addicting. You were practically craving for more now that you know the feeling, especially from Choso. The way your body reacted to his touch caused him to increase his pace, and his eyes raise to meet yours as he fucks your pussy with his mouth and fingers.

“Ohh, fuck yes. That feels- s’good,” your voice breaks at how deep and fast his fingers thrusts into you, making your back arch. It felt so different from your own fingers and you were quickly reaching your orgasm.

“You close, baby?” Choso questions, pulling his lips away but still thrusting his fingers. You give him a nod, being unable to properly respond with words. His lips meets yours once again, and the two of you share a rough, passionate kiss.

Choso’s fingers began thrusting quicker, to the point the wet squelching noises of your pussy began resonating the room. He covers your mouth with his as your moans kept coming out and he knew you were reaching your high.

He pulls away, going back down to flick his tongue against your clit. At that moment, the two of you couldn’t care less at who was hearing you. Both of your hands grip the bed sheet as you release over his mouth and fingers, a loud mewl following after.

Choso licks his mouth clean, before licking the other wet areas of your body where you cum got on. He kisses you, pressing his tongue against yours and you two share a sloppy kiss before he leans back to stand up. He was so goddamn hard, and you could even see the tent in his pants. Choso was so pussy drunk, and so desperately wanting to shove his cock into your virgin pussy.

“Please.. Choso..” you whimper, spreading your legs wider for him. “I need your cock in me..”

Something snapped in Choso as you said that and he couldn’t wait any longer now— seeing how your pussy was waiting for him. Choso pushes his pants and boxers down, freeing his throbbing hard cock. Your eyes watch as he pumps his dick a few times with pre-cum leaking out and he leans over to open a drawer next to his bed.

He grabs a condom kept inside and quickly opens it, slipping it on his cock. “This okay, baby? Are you ready?” he asks and you only nod again before he aligns himself against your wet entrance.

Your lips tremble as you feel the tip of Choso’s cock push into you slowly. It felt weird, and your reaction immediately causes him to stop moving. “Are you uncomfortable?” he asks again.

“N-No.. I’m okay,” you reassure, grabbing his forearms that were propping your thighs. His tip was already stretching you out, and you couldn’t imagine his entire length in you just yet.

Choso nods before slowly pushing his cock in all the way. You both let out a gasp, and Choso could feel your tight walls clenching so hard around him. It hurt, and you could feel tears reaching your eyes. He starts rocking his hips sensually, allowing you to adjust to him and the feeling.

“You okay?” Choso asks again, leaning down to kiss your cheek. He notices your welled tears, wiping away the ones that were poking out.

“Y-Yes..” you reply as your hands interlock with his, feeling his cock rub your walls so well. “It hurts..”

“I know, baby. Do you want me to stop?” Choso whispers, kissing away your tears that streamed down the side of your face.

“No, no. It’s okay. It feels good too..” You shake your head, eyes shutting as you adjust yourself to the feeling. “Faster..”

Choso was quite appalled but he didn’t decline your request. He starts thrusting faster, moving your hands over your head and grunting lowly at your tightness. It aroused Choso to know that he was the first, your first and how you practically wanted him to be the first.

Your moans fall out each thrust he gives, and his pace starts fastening as you wrap your legs around his waist. Choso was so deep into you, wrecking your walls and turning you into a sex lover. You never thought it would feel this great, and you understood why so many people were addicted to it. Choso then kept his mouth on yours as he fucked you faster, balls slapping against your pussy and you could feel him drill his cock deeper and deeper.

"Mmh- fuck!" you mewl out as Choso pulls his lips away, pounding you in the position.

"I knew I'd love this pussy of yours," Choso grunts, pulling his cock out before guiding your body over so that you'd lay on your belly. He places his hands on your hips, pushing them back against his and sliding back into your aching hole.

"S-So deep!" you cry out, feeling his entire length sink deeper into your pussy.

Choso grips onto your hips as he thrusts his cock quickly into you, his hips slamming against your ass cheeks. You bury your face in the sheets of his bed, refraining your erotic moans to echo the entire room. But it just felt too good- his cock and this position that allowed his cock to make him feel so fucking deep in you.

You throw your head back slightly as your hands move underneath your chest to prop up. Choso leans forward, eyes nearly shutting because of how good your pussy felt around him. He was nearly reaching his orgasm and he knew you were close again too.

"'m so close- Choso!" you utter through your moans, more pleasured tears rolling down your cheeks.

"Me too, angel. Fuck," Choso groans, groping your ass to the point his hands could leave a print.

A knot forms in your stomach when Choso's cock rubs against your g-spot each deepening thrust and your head drops to the mattress as your moans uncontrollably escape your mouth and bounce off the walls of his room.

"Baby- shit. You gotta lower your voice," Choso reminds, groaning as your pussy clenches his cock again.

"I-I know.. But I can't.." you reply, covering your mouth with a hand.

Honestly, Choso found it slightly amusing, yet cute about how you were trying to keep quiet but couldn't. And even though he was the one to tell you to lower your voice, he wanted to pound into you faster, and deeper- and make more moans escape past your pretty lips.

“C-Cumming..” you utter beneath your hand covering your mouth, and Choso hastily slips his cock as you came all over him.

You’ve never came this much before— it was appalling to see how much you can cum. Your mind was dizzying and fogging up, and you could feel Choso pull his cock out. He was panting heavily, hands still holding your hips before he uses one to slip off the condom filled with his cum.

Yet, he was still hard.

“Again,” you say, turning yourself around and pulling him close by placing your hands on his nape. “Wanna ride you, Choso..”

Choso didn’t expect you to want to keep going, but he couldn’t resist the urge of wanting to see you ride him. After you situate yourself on Choso’s lap with his guide, he rests your hands on his shoulders. You bite your lower lip, quite conflicted because you didn’t even know how to ride a dick properly.

“Don’t worry. I’ll guide you,” Choso reassures, caressing the side of your face before leaning towards the drawer to grab another condom.

But you stop him and shake your head. “No protection.. it’s okay.”

Choso raises a brow. “You sure, baby? It’s risky without it.”

“It’s okay.. promise. I trust you.”

Choso’s heart ached at the way you softly spoke of how you trust him, and he nods his head before returning his hands to the side of your hips. He props you up with his strength before pressing the tip of his cock at the entrance of your swollen pussy.

He gives you a final look before guiding your body down, and his raw cock pushes pass your folds. You both moan in unison as Choso’s entire length fits into you perfectly. The bare skin of his cock in you was entirely different from when the condom was on, and Choso could also feel how different your insides were.

Choso starts guiding your hips up and down on his cock, and you’re both moaning, staring at each other with affection and lust. Your grip on Choso’s shoulders tighten as he indirectly allows you to bounce by yourself, allowing you to experience.

You’re on your heels as you bounce on his throbbing cock, moaning and mumbling his name as you’re clenching him whenever you slide your hips upward. Choso’s watching intently, low grunts increasing as he feels your pussy taking him just as he’s always imagined.

“You’re doing so fucking good, angel. Fuck- keep riding me like that,” Choso praises, his head leaning back as you start bouncing faster. You’re literally uncertain whether or not you’re moving correctly, but with the guide of Choso’s hands and his reaction, you assumed you were doing good.

You could feel the tip of his cock smack the entrance of your womb whenever you sink his entire length deeper into you, and you’re looking at him for more direction since you still clearly didn’t know what else to do. Choso used his hands to guide your hips to grind forward on his dick, and he looks at you.

“Just like this, baby.”

You take what Choso guided you to do in mind and then action, seemingly noting that he enjoyed those certain movements. Now, he’s the one moaning louder, whimpering lowly and muttering how amazing your pussy was.

He initially starts lunging his hips up as your bounces on his cock become more erratic, and he cups your ass. “C-Choso! Your cock- feels so, so good,” you could only utter as your legs start trembling, and you’re barely unable to keep yourself up.

“Yeah? I’m all yours now, baby- I’ll give this cock to you whenever and wherever you want,” Choso groans, gently tightening his grip on your ass as he starts controlling his thrusts up into you again. “Fuck- let me be your boyfriend. Please, angel.”

“Yes, yes, yes!” you nod your head, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him close for a deep kiss.

Before Choso could reach his final orgasm, he quickly pulls you off him and his cum shoots all over the floor of his room. You both pull away from the kiss, panting heavier and fall back against the bed.

Choso stares up at his ceiling, taking in what just happened. Hearing your pacing heartbeat and heavy pants, he lifts a hand to gently rub your back.

“You okay?” he inquires.

“Mhm..” you reply, snuggling yourself close to him.

Choso chuckles softly, more elated with the fact that you were now his, and he was yours. He’s never necessarily been in an official relationship, besides from the experiences of blind dates or one night stands. He’s met a few nice girls, but he wasn’t into them the way he was into you. When he first met you, he was originally happy to know that his younger brother had a good friend. But as you often came around, he started to notice the little things about you. And one day, he just discovered how deeply he was falling for you.

He was always occupied with his job and taking care of his siblings that he subsequently forgot about his own health and care. But you were there— making sure he had his dinners, chatting with him about his day, making Yuji and the other two help clean up the house so he didn’t have to. And in order to see you often, Choso started sending in requests about changing his schedule to the main office. It took a few months, but with how diligently he worked, he was granted the schedule change. And he was so grateful, because it allowed him to spend more time with you— even if you were there for Yuji.

But now, he knows your feelings for him and it was all that mattered. Tonight, and possibly for the rest of his life, he’s the happiest man in the world.

LOAF4U. thank you for reading! please do not copy my work or publish in another media without my permission.

#loaf4u #18+ minors dni #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen one shot #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #anime smut #choso smut #choso kamo smut #choso x reader #choso x you #choso x female reader

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kaitlynpcallmebeepme · 18 days

Text

Sea Sickness

Luke Hughes x fem!reader (established relationship, but still new)

Idea: Reader gets nauseous from being on the boat at the Hughes’s Lake House and snuggles up to Luke.

Requested: Nope.

Author’s Note: I know I’m bouncing around who I’m writing for, but I’m on a NHL spree right now. I also get nauseated if I'm on a boat or in the ocean for too long. Fun Fact: I wrote the beginning part of this on a note card while working by myself in the OR today. We had a really long case where I just had to check up on people during the middle of it (hence why I wrote this on a card because I don’t like going on my phone when I’m in the OR. It's unprofessional). I don’t know any of these people personally. The closest I’ve gotten to the team (that wasn’t just playing in the band at the games or when they were walking past us down the 2023 red carpet in tampa) was a tuba was talking to some of them in his plane row on the ride back from that trip (he ended up being the tuba you see in the senior picture from 2024) and one of the coaches had to share our bus on the way back from the 2023 frozen four game with his wife and two young daughters (I kept trying to get the younger one to smile at me unsuccessfully). Someone from my hotel room also shared the elevator ride up with the entire Fantilli family the night they lost that game in 2023 (I think Adam also won the Hobey Baker award that same night). I’ve also been playing my lego lord of the rings game. Anyway, enjoy this little blurb.

Tagging some of my favorite Hughes/NHL writers, love y’all.

@wineauntie @thedevilrisen @winterbarnesblog @sc0tters

I forgot to mention that this is kinda based on the cute stuff @bedsyandco writes

I'm now sad when I'm uploading this because a friend from college drumline has an incurable brain cancer. Please keep him in your thoughts and prayers (he's only 19 or 20).

Requests are still open. Feedback is always appreciated. Also, tell me if you want to be part of a Tag List and I’ll tag you when I upload something new. If you want to only be tagged when I upload something for a certain character or shows, let me know as well.

Warning: None, just general fluff. Feeling sick on a boat.

Word Count: 488

Being on a boat wasn’t your most favorite thing in the world, mainly because the last time you were on a boat, it got stuck in the middle of the laek and had to be towed back to shore (true story), but when your boyfriend Luke invited you to spend the weekend at the lakehouse with ihs brothers and friends, you weren't going to say no. The weekend had been filled with lots of eating, playing outside, and the boys being competitive at every game they pick up (even the old board game you brought to teach them how to play). Just trying to keep up with them all was exhausting, so that’s how you ended up on the back of the boat enjoying the warm air instead of diving into the water again. The boys had been going back and forth between wakeboarding and chatting on the boat deck. With them supplying the lake with plenty of waves, the constand up and down was starting to make your stomach sick. You scooched over and made yourself comfortable laying your head on Luke’s shoulder. He then opened his arms and wrapped you in his warm embrace so you could crawl on his lap and snuggle closer to his chest.

“You feeling ok?”

“Yeah, just want to stop the constant movement.” It was getting to a point were you just wanted to stop the constant movement. It being really hot out didn’t help either.

“We’ll head to shore soon. Then we can cool off inside.”

Being wrapped up in Luke’s embrace with his fingers gently carding through your hair or down your shoulder leaving goosebumps in their wake and shading you with his fit body definitely helped keep your mind off of your stomach and the boat’s ever shifting movements. Luke wasn’t much of a pda person, but you always encouraged him to show little bits of it at least in front of his family or close friends.

Little did you know, that’s exactly who was eyeing the interaction. Jack, Quinn, Trevor, Cole, and Dylan all had stopped what they were talking about in favor of watching the interaction between you two. Eventhough they were not all related, they felt like proud older brothers seeing Luke be so considerate and affectionate in front of them. Of couse they’re all going to tease him relentlessly later about this, but they were gentlemen in regards to respecting the timing and the moment.

“Just lay down and close your eyes. We’ll be on shore soon.” You snuggled deeper into Luke’s neck keeping your eyes closed and focused on his soft skin, his natural scent, and the way his warm body curled around yours. He even tugged on your legs to pull you fully into his lap as his large frame wrapped around your body fully encasing you in his warmth and comfort.

Nothing better than enjoying the summer with those you love.

#nhl imagine #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes #hughes brothers #luke hughes fluff #luke hughes imagine #jack hughes x reader #quinn hughes x reader #nhl #nhl players #hockey #hockey imagine #new jersey devils #nj devils #umich hockey #umich imagine #umich x reader

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diqldrunks · 1 month

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DATE ME TO SCARE THEM — R. CAMERON

summary: rafe cameron didn't do girlfriends, or make deals — so why did he agree so quickly to being your fake boyfriend — for the sole purpose of pissing off your parents? (based off the song 18 by anarbor)

a/n: this is very different from the original which got lost when my acc got terminated

cw/tw: none! this is really short but other parts will be much longer!! asks for rafe (in this au and others) are open!! anons are welcome!

word count: 0.8k

DMTST — PART ONE

next part | nav | inbox

rafe masterlist | main masterlist

:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ

you and rafe had been sitting on the beach when you asked him.

it was late summer, and the sun was slowly setting. the two of you had spent the entire day together, and the entire time, rafe couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d done something to upset you.

you had barely said 5 words to him that hadn’t been prompted by a question he asked you; there was an air of awkwardness surrounding the two of you and any interaction you had, and rafe hated it.

he spent ages going over anything and everything he had said, trying to figure it out. he'd eventually decided he'd had enough, and when you were reapplying your lip gloss, he decided to speak up.

"sweets," he asked, using the nickname he began using years ago after he realised the extent of your sweet tooth, "everything good with you? anything going wrong in your little world that i can help out with?"

the two of you had met two years ago, when your parents had dragged you to an overly formal dinner at the country club after you had moved — you were sat across from him and one of his sisters, sarah. together, the three of you tried to tune out the insufferably dull conversations that were happening — with one of ways being rafe and sarah explaining kildare to you, introducing the concept of ‘pogues’ and ‘kooks’ (with sarah later introducing you to some of her kook friends without rafe’s knowledge).

after a couple of these dinners, the three of you became friends — with it soon becoming commonplace for you to spend days and nights at the cameron’s’. you spent mornings in town shopping, afternoons on the boat and evenings at parties. though you met other people your age — both kooks and pogues — and became friendly with them, rafe and sarah were always the ones you were closest to.

over time, sarah became more distant, and your afternoons on the beach as a trio became just you and rafe. your parents weren’t that happy, having voiced their dislike for the boy, but as they worked away for business a lot, they didn’t have a chance to stop it. this month, they were away again, in chicago this time for a series of conferences, but were coming back in a few days.

they had phoned you a few weeks ago, and were clearly excited to be talking to you — one of their business executive friends had a son, and, although they didn’t say it explicitly, they expected you to go on a few dates with him. his name was matthew, and he was coming to outer banks with his father a few days after your parents return.

you were anxious and angry, and for days had been racking your brain for a solution — one that you could make last as long as you matthew went back home. you had eventually came up with a plan — it was risky, and frankly just a terrible idea, but it should work. you just had to get rafe on board.

you looked to rafe, his hair almost glowing gold from the sunlight.

"i need you to be my boyfriend."

the brunette paused, one of his hands frozen in place as it hovered over the cooler from where he was about to grab a second beer.

he was silent for a moment, his eyebrows slightly raised so the ends of his hair began to cover them.

"i'm sorry sweets, i need to what?"

this time your voice was louder than before, but still quiet enough that rafe had to try and block out the sound of the crashing waves to hear you clearly. "i need you to date me for the next two weeks — three at a push."

you take a quick look at rafe before turning you attention back to the hands in your lap as you continue to talk. "it's my parents — they're coming to visit for a few weeks and the last time i spoke to them, they were trying to set me up with one of their business friend’s sons — a guy called matthew-"

rafe ran a hand through his hair. "god sweets, do i really have to get dragged into this? your parents despise me-"

"that’s why this is so perfect rafe. they are setting me up for misery — let’s be real, matthew’s going to be as dull as a rock. i want to throw this stupid idea back in their faces — make sure they won’t do this again."

"you’re gonna use me to piss off your parents, sweets?" rafe smirked, remembering just how much you're parents hated him. "fake date me just so you can scare them?” rafe pauses, pretending to think. god, he was insufferable. “i don't know, seems like an awfully one sided deal..."

you needed rafe to agree, otherwise you risk sitting opposite full matthew at the country club for dinner. "rafe cameron i will literally do anything for you to agree."

rafe smirked. "if you say so sweets."

rafe taglist (lmk if you want to be added!); @izabellaemerson @spiderflunk @kitty-m30w @vincapandora @uraesthete @wickedtactics @harmoneeee24 @starkeybae @fairydvstss @alexiskirkland @devils-blackrose @makaylalovessmut @winterrrnight @clearbolts @slayystuff @neilove @littlemissborntolose @emyslittlebubble @ldrsog @stargrltara @isabelllauer @alexasznisforever @zizuras @sadgirlelenora @djosfuture @leaskisses444

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macfrog · 4 months

Text

the sweetest con cowboy like me chapter fifteen

well. this is it. we made it, kids. thank you so, so much for reading for all this time. for all your patience, and kindness, and loyalty. i will carry this pair, their story, and all of your love for them with me forever. love you guys. xx

pairing: dbf!joel miller x fem!reader

summary: every cowboy deserves his ride off into the sunset.

warnings: age gap (reader is 23, joel is 48), lotsa guilt from reader, dreamy love sequence & mention of unprotected piv/creampie, more greys anatomy spoilers, reader's dad is either Bald or has a Receding Hairline (you choose), more sex - this time reader and joel sixty-nine, face sitting, oral (f and m receiving), more (inferred) unprotected piv, making dirty, hot love ALLAT, cursing, a little smut n a lotta fluff n a droplet of angst at the end

word count: 10.8k

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist | follow @macfroglets w notifs on to be the first to hear when i post 🧡

“How the fuck did this take you three minutes? Three?”

“I’m telling you. I’m a genius.”

You snort. “Shut up. You only passed Math ‘cause you were fooling around with that nerd – Thomas? Was it Thomas?”

“Timothy. And you don’t need math to do a sudoku puzzle, loser. You just need brains. Logic.” Anna taps two fingers against her temple, tilting her head.

“Logic,” you murmur, shaking your head.

Sal’s is quiet today. He’s out of town for his father-in-law’s funeral and made the genius decision to leave the two of you in charge. Since opening at nine, you’ve had four customers. The to-do list left for you was completed by ten, and since then, you’ve been hunched over your phone at the cash register, messing around on some puzzle app Anna made you download.

It's a Wednesday. Nothing exciting ever happens on Wednesdays.

Anna’s behind you, tearing apart and flattening the cardboard boxes you spent all morning emptying. “That level,” she clicks her chewing gum wetly between her teeth, scent of mint over your shoulder, “that ain’t even the hardest one. Ooh, no, babe. Three goes –”

“Shh!” You bat her arm away, curving your hand over your phone screen. She snorts and wanders off through the back, wad of cardboard under her arm.

Anna wasn’t your closest friend in high school, and you sure didn’t stay much in touch past the odd Facebook post update when you left. But working with her, and her dad being your dad’s buddy – she’s sort of become one of those people you just can’t shake.

Like a stray puppy. Or…an annoying hangnail.

She’s nice enough – talks a lot of crap sometimes, but she cares for you. You’d go as far as saying you two have grown pretty close since you came home. Still, the acidic sting of resentment sits on your tongue, anytime you think of her involvement in the unravelling of your little lie. Think of your dad calling hers, Hank asking her where you were.

Think of the fact that, if she hadn’t been honest with him – I don’t know where she is, Dad – nothing would’ve gone wrong.

That’s not fair. If you’d never touched Joel in the first place, nothing would’ve gone wrong.

It’s just – she had a hand in pushing the first domino.

The bell above the door jingles and you lift your eyes from tiny numbers and blank squares to meet a familiar pair of hazel. An Alanis Morissette T-shirt under a denim jacket. She tucks her thick, soft hair behind her ears and smiles, then skips around the counter and links her hands at your tummy; her ear flat against the nape of your neck.

“Why so clingy?” you ask, and Sarah straightens up.

“Just excited to spend some time with my favorite person. That allowed?”

Your eyes scan her up and down as she leans against the counter, stealing a gummy from a jar beside the register. “Been staying with you for nearly three weeks now, you ain’t sick of me yet?”

She shakes her head, jaw chewing, cheeks swollen with a grin. “Are you done yet? I wanna make sure we get good seats.”

“We will,” you assure her. “It’s only, like, three p.m.”

“But it’s Barbie,” she says, “and I wanna get some snacks before we head in.” She holds the decapitated gummy worm up, eyebrows high, before pulling it between her teeth until it snaps. She drags the withered red tail over her tongue.

“That thing you just mauled,” you gesture to the masticated shape in her fingers, “candy. Snacks. Just take some of that.”

“You won’t even buy your date movie theater candy? Damn. Mom’s a cheapskate. Wish I could say my dad’s a lucky guy.”

You shove her off, disguising your laugh with a shake of your head. “You are on thin ice, I’m not even kidding.”

Sarah’s laughing, reaching for another worm. “You know what that sounds like?”

“Hm?”

“What you just said.”

“What’s it sound like, Sarah Miller?”

“Something a mom would say.”

“Alright,” you stand, “get out. Get outta my store.”

The door opens when you point to it, Texan heat sweeping in to swarm the one rickety fan you have in here. The brass bell trembles, and beneath it, a man in a tucked shirt and jeans, glum face and tired eyes.

You blink at him and he blinks back, and no words are spoken between you, but your dad understands to move, to keep walking – and you understand to let him.

“Shoot,” Sarah whispers, twisting her gummy around her finger. “That was awkward.”

Three weeks of staying with them – Sarah and Joel – also means three weeks of zero contact with your dad. The most you’ve heard from – or, rather, about him is that, last week, Joel bumped into Hank at the gas station, and the old man mentioned that he and your dad had grabbed a beer the night before.

What’d he say? you asked Joel, dragging a dish towel around the rim of a glass.

He shrugged, flicking his hands dry over the sink. Said the Rangers aren’t doin’ too good. I said, Yeah, that’s cause a’ –

No, Joel. What did he say about me ‘n my dad?

He waited a second to let the offense of your interruption soak in. Took the towel from your hand, replaced the glass on the draining board. Nothing, he said, I don’t think he knows.

It sat with you the entire night. The three of you watched a movie, occupying either side of Joel’s couch, though you’re sure you don’t remember a word of it. The image of him sat center-stage in your mind until you pulled yourself against Joel’s body in bed that night. Sat in his recliner, flicking through TV channels, the only sounds in the house that of Ice Road Truckers, the ticking of the kitchen clock, and his own fucking breathing.

Alone. Not even Hank to talk to about – well.

You’ve done your best not to think about him. And it works, most days, when you’re with Joel. Helps to go do stuff: ride shotgun while he picks up supplies for work or grabs groceries. Helps to play pretend like his house is yours, too. Tidying when he’s not home, lighting candles and sinking into a bubble bath for him to find you in when he finishes. Helps to be at Sal’s, with Anna. Sudoku and her fucking Tinder account to keep you both occupied.

Most days, you forget to consider the lonely shape of your dad at all – but that seems to hurt all the more. Like forgetting to tend to an open wound; instead, letting the infection blister and bubble so that, when you do bump it again, the pain feels sharper. Hissing at you, poison seeping from flesh.

His showing up, waltzing straight into the store – feels less like a bump, and more like a pair of hands diving straight into the gash, tearing it wide open again. Blood and poison gushing all over the checkered floor.

Anna materializes between two aisles, hands on her hips when she stands behind you. “Y’all still not really talkin’?” she asks.

You and Sarah shake your heads. The three of you watch the shape of your dad’s skull over the shelves, bobbing from bay to bay. Door hinges to fence paint. He painted the fence last summer. He doesn’t need fucking fence paint.

“Nope,” you reply. “’s been, what, two and a half weeks now?”

“Yeah,” Anna mutters, the slope of sympathy in her voice. “My dad’s been talkin’ to him about it. They’ve spoken, like, almost every night on the phone.”

“Oh, fuck,” you hiss, head falling into your hands. “Are you serious?”

“Not about you and Joel. Just about the fight.”

Your jaw slowly slackens, eyes thinning as your gaze slides over to your friend, a saddened expression on her face.

Sarah nods, like an accessory sat on the dash of a car. Bobbing bobbing bobbing, until her brows drop and she turns to you, finally realizing. “Wait, what?”

Anna blinks between the two of you. “What?” she asks, lips pressing together.

“You know?” Sarah asks, glaring at her.

Anna snorts. Neither of you break. She quickly quietens and clears her throat, bending to stuff more cardboard under her arm. “Well…” She sucks in a deep breath. “At rodeo night, when you left your phone on the table, me ‘n Kara wanted to leave a bunch of selfies for you to find later. But when I went to grab your phone, you had a text from him. Joel. Something about someone winning you over like he did, or something. I can’t remember. But that was the first thing.”

Sarah’s face sours at the mention of her dad’s flirty text, scoffing as she swipes another gummy from the jar. “Real fuckin’ subtle, Dad,” she murmurs.

You sharpen your gaze at Anna, blurring the brown curls and low brows from your peripheral. “Uhuh…?”

“Then, there was the lying to your dad about where you were. That Monday – you said you were at mine. You weren’t. Your dad called my dad to ask, ‘n my dad asked me why the hell you’d lie. I figured, What a weird coincidence, right?”

You slip off your stool, legs feeling more liquid than bone. “Oh, Jesus…”

“But then…then, I saw how you were when he called on the way to Frank’s. In the car. You were…fucking weird. And then Joel punched that dude – that basically confirmed it. I don’t think either of your dads would do that for me. It felt…it felt personal. He took your hand ‘n dragged you outta there, and it felt like…somethin’ else.”

You’re leaning against the counter, head in your hands. Struggling to even listen to her piece it all together. Were you this fucking obvious, the whole time?

Anna answers for you. “Yeah,” she says, nodding, “I didn’t catch two fucking boyfriends cheating on me, and not pick up some detective skills, babe.”

You stand straight, composure slowly building over shame. “And your dad doesn’t know? My –” you flick your head across the store, lowering your voice, “– my dad hasn’t told him?”

A laugh spurts from somewhere deep in her chest. “Hell, no. Are you tryna give him a second heart attack? No. He just thinks you were somewhere you didn’t want your dad to know – a boy’s or something. Which – well, I guess you were.”

You nod, half-appreciation, half-resignation. Alright. Now shut up about it, would you?

“But listen,” Anna says, apparently not as good at mindreading as she is at secret-revealing, “y’all gotta work on being sneaky. You’re, like, really bad at it.”

“Yeah,” you sniff, “thanks, Anna.”

You grip the edge of the counter and try to draw your eye away from your dad; a little angry that he’s here, and yet, a little more thankful that you’ve had at least a tiny glimpse of him. Desperate for him to come over, to acknowledge your mutual existence in the same room, and yet – petrified that he does.

He keeps his back to you, though you notice him turning every so often, looking at you from his peripheral. Nope – your black shirt and blue jeans are still behind the counter. He turns back to the shelf.

“Hi, sweetie.” A woman in a pink blouse approaches the counter. She lays down a couple pairs of plyers and you ring her up, asking if she found everything okay. Choking a little when you inhale the scent of her perfume.

“Beautiful day for you to be in here workin’, huh?” Her rosy cheeks fill as she hands you the cash.

Oh, yeah. It’s a beautiful day to be stuck selling plyers to pink women in pink blouses smelling of pink perfume, while my dad – still reeling from the revelation that I’ve been sleeping with his best friend, by the way – pretends to peruse the store.

“I’m almost done,” you reply, blunt enough to deflate her expression only a little, sliding the paper bag stamped Sal’s back across the counter.

She nods in thanks and slinks off, suffocating aroma following her. And like a magician, when she disappears off to the side, your dad stands in her wake. A few feet from you, keeping his distance, watching carefully before he dares to move. Waiting for your go-ahead.

When you lift your chin, beckoning him forward, Anna takes Sarah’s arm and yanks her away, shoving some shredded boxes into her arms. “You wanna help me?” she asks the nosy Miller, tossing something of an alarmed glance back at you and your dad.

There’s a funny feeling behind your eyes when he steps up, empty hand resting hesitantly on the counter. “She coverin’ up the smell of a dead body or som’?” he asks.

The air pushes from your lungs, a laugh barreling with it. Your hands clasp on the surface opposite his. A scorch of white heat at the nape of your neck. “Very vibrant, huh?”

“Very.” He clears his throat, shakes his head a little, and takes a deep breath. “I figured this might be as good a place as any to find you. I didn’t want you to think I was…cornering you, or anything, if I showed up at Joel’s.”

“I wouldn’t – I mean, maybe. But, y’know…this is fine.” Your arms cross defensively, the baggy material of Joel’s shirt wrapping snug around you.

Your dad seems to know. Evidence being that it’s you, in a shirt all too big – a shirt he’d likely see his best friend in, too. It forces your arms tighter, sucking in the scent of Joel to combat the dizzying feeling of nerves.

“I’m glad to see you’re alright,” he says eventually, fingers drumming awkwardly. “I just wanted to know you were fine.”

“I am fine. I promise. Just – working a lot.”

He nods, looking down to his feet. Twists the toe of his boot into the linoleum.

“I’m glad to see you’re alright, too,” you offer, the words fluid and spilling from one to the next – something forceful in their nature.

Your dad’s eyes lift at the same time that his cheeks do. Relief. “Thanks, kiddo. I actually – I was hopin’ that maybe we could talk. If you’re free. I don’t know what time you get off today.”

“I finish in ten minutes,” you say, and hope seems to paint across his face – washing away instantly when you add, “but I’m going to the movies with Sarah.”

He’s nodding again, eyes fixed back on his boots. “Right, right.”

“…But maybe once we’re done I can swing by?”

“Oh, well – I’m workin’ late again. I’ll be out by the time…Yeah. Sorry, hon.”

“That’s okay.”

“Late one again tonight.”

“This, uh – what’s his name again? Kel–?”

“Kelman, yeah. Yeah. How ‘bout I call you tomorrow ‘n we can work somethin’ out? You and Sarah, you enjoy your night.”

You lean back from the counter, slowly more confident in your ability to hold yourself upright. “Yeah. Okay. Thanks, Dad.”

His lips press together in a flat attempt at a smile. “I’ll leave you to it. You mind if I…give you a hug?”

And then you’re the one awkwardly, forcedly smiling. Your teeth gritting behind taut lips. “Not at all,” you whisper, and wander carefully around the counter to where he stands.

He opens his arms and pulls you against his chest, your head tilting to rest your ear on his shoulder. You hook your arms under his, feeling his wrists crossing at your spine. Like two statues, two figures of stone fixing their crumbling bodies in an embrace, suddenly disjointed and ill-fitting. Your heart hurts beneath layers of rock, swelling in attempt to reach for his, shrinking back crestfallen when he feels too far.

He kisses the side of your head, pulls away, and taps your cheek once. “You know,” he says, letting you withdraw from his grasp, “I really miss you.”

You nod. “Miss you, too.”

“Let’s talk soon, alright?”

“Yeah.”

And then he’s leaving, drifting back out into the summer sun, rock disintegrating as the light catches him again. More human, less monster-under-your-bed. He’s just your dad again, just that swaying, bumbling man who used to sprinkle rainbow flakes over your ice cream and double-knot your laces.

The shadows of Sarah and Anna appear at your elbows, the three of you watching your dad sink into his car. You still feel made of rock, splitting somewhere down the middle as you stare at his figure.

“Well?” Sarah asks.

He turns right out of the parking lot, disappears behind a hedgerow.

“Yeah,” you reply, turning in a daze. “We’re gonna…gonna talk.”

“That’s good, right? That sounds…promising.”

You shrug. “I guess.”

Sarah places a gentle hand on your arm, drawing your attention to her kind eyes and infectious smile. “We should probably get goin’,” she says, and you agree.

“What movie are you seeing?” Anna asks, filling your spot behind the counter as you turn, making for the back of the store.

“Barbie,” Sarah tells her.

“Nice. She paying?”

“Obviously. Mom duties.”

You kick the door closed on their giggles.

Two days pass without a word from your dad. No text, no call, no visit to Sal’s when you’re on shift the following day. By Monday, you’ve convinced yourself that the entire thing was a dream, a hallucination conjured up by your imagination in attempt to rid you of some of the guilt still chewing at your heart. Bat it out of your brain, like swatting the rear end of a wild animal let loose indoors.

Guilt which is only remedied, only soothed by Joel. By the feeling which overcomes your chest when you look at him – lungs faltering, heart leaping. The peace of falling asleep in his safe embrace, the heat from his body enough to keep you comfortable all night, and then waking up tangled in his sheets – the smell of bacon and eggs twirling through the house, the distant sound of his humming drawing you downstairs to his side.

Late nights on the porch, watching the sun bleed heavily into the sky. Your ankles in his lap, a guitar over his thigh. Thumb gentle on the strings, soft timbre of song lulling you to some place far from reality: the same rosy, dreamlike state you’ve mostly occupied since he dragged you through his front door, kicked your shoes and all of your worries to the side, and made you forget that anything bad had ever happened.

The most comfortable you’ve ever felt in your life, the most loved – a world where your every word is heard and weighed, rolling around Joel’s palms and slotting carefully into his back pocket. A world where his lips on your neck as you make dinner, where the crook of his arm catching you as you pass by, is all normal. Where I love you and I love you, too become the last words your sleepy ears hear at night, right before you sink into a shared sleep.

All of it becoming as natural as the pale moon switching for her golden sister at dawn. As instinctive as breathing.

“Have you ever made love to anyone?” you ask him one night, the aftershock of an orgasm still soaking into your skin.

Joel pauses, hips slowing between yours. “Yeah,” after a couple beats, “sure.”

“What’s it feel like?” you ask, honestly. Combing his dark hair through your fingers. “I’ve never…No one’s ever…”

“Baby,” he says. “We’ve done it. I’ve done it to you.”

Your body tenses and then melts around him. One blink and suddenly the world softens, seems to bow into the background – the only sharp object Joel, the twinkle in his eye piercing through the haze like blinking white stars in thick, dark clouds.

You whisper, “Can you do it again? So I can feel what it’s like?”

He pushes himself up, one elbow planted by your ear, the other hand lifting your thigh. Hooking it over his waist, lowering his arm again to cage you under his body. He nudges your chin with his nose, lifting it to line your lips with his, hold every part of your body as close to his as he can.

Deeper, in every sense of the word. Slow, hard. Eyes on you the entire time, watching the way your face contorts and your jaw slackens, holding the shape of your head in his hands, swallowing his own moans and grunts to make space between you for yours.

“Look at me, baby, eyes on me,” he says, and by instinct, your eyes roll forward, focusing or half-focusing on the slick hair at his forehead, the red flush climbing his neck, seeping into the skin under his beard. “You feel it? Feel where I’m goin’?”

And yeah, you whine, you do feel it. Feel him dragging you further away from this world and into the next – somewhere a plain away, somewhere new and different to anything you’ve ever known before. Where physicality is a language, a fluid conversation between the melding of his body and yours; where there are a million words swirling around his pupils, hypnotizing and entrancing and drawing you in until you’re tumbling headfirst into the inky pools.

Where I love you sounds like the groan Joel can’t hold back, feels like the pulsing flood as he snaps between your legs. Where making love is as simple as the squeeze of his hand around yours; the shove of his plate over the kitchen table, offering you the last bite of grilled cheese or simply admitting that it was yours before he’d even taken the first. That addictive laugh of his when you stall the fucking truck for the fifth time: You asked me to teach you, baby, I’m tryna teach you. Foot on the gas, c’mon. You got it. That’s it – now, slow. Slower. Try to feel it. No, really feel it.

Feel it. Really, try to feel it. Can you feel it? Do you know the difference yet? The difference between everyone who was before, and the one who is now? Do you finally get it?

“I feel it,” you cry out, and his frame holds yours together as you fall apart.

It feels like – you.

How did I ever know anything before I knew you?

“That one’s nice,” Joel says, his voice jumping the short distance between his lips and your ear.

You tilt your head, body moving with his when he lifts his hand to swipe through some more of the images. The spacious living room, newly refurbed kitchen, the view of downtown Los Angeles.

He adjusts the blanket draped over your legs. “Washer dryer, walk-in closet,” and then, leaning in closer, whispers, “a balcony. That’s cool.”

“Hm,” you turn to face him, your body shelled by his in the corner of his couch, “I bet you like the balcony, cowboy.”

He smiles plainly in response, squeezing your nose between two knuckles. Yeah. Lots you can do with a balcony.

A sharp gasp from across the room pierces the sweet moment. You and Joel turn in its direction, its owner wide-eyed and blinking at the TV.

“Wait a second,” Sarah yelps. “George is the John Doe?” She gasps again when Meredith announces the same news to her friends onscreen. “Shut – the fuck – up!”

“Language,” Joel clips, chest rumbling between your shoulder blades.

“Oh, like you didn’t have the exact same reaction. George is the…Oh, that sucks. Are you kidding me?” She fishes her phone from the waves of blanket surrounding her, thumbs rapidly typing, eyes shooting from screen to screen.

You snort, turning back to your own phone in your hand, when a text appears at the top of the screen.

Dad: Hey kiddo. Sorry to keep you waiting, work been hectic. Off the rest of today if you’re free to come over.

Your thumb latches onto the message, holding it for Joel to read, too, before letting it disappear off into your notifications.

He tightens his hold on you, burying his nose into the cotton of his own hoodie over your shoulders. His breath pushes heavy and thoughtful across the material. “Still seems as calm as the other day.”

“Too calm,” you admit, “it’s freaking me out.”

“What can he do, you know? You’re here, he’s there. Your dad ain’t an idiot, baby. He knows stayin’ angry about it’s only gonna push you further away.”

“Sure made ‘im feel like an idiot…”

Joel catches the comment and pockets it before it gathers enough weight to bruise. “Well,” he clears his throat, “it’s up to you. I ain’t letting you do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

“Mhm,” you reply, and wait for more words to fall to your tongue. An answer, a response. A decision that you know you don’t feel equipped or even rightful to make.

“Do you want to go talk to him?” Joel asks.

“I…I want to make things right. I wanna fix it.”

“Okay. And will talking to him do that?”

You turn to face him, frowning. “I don’t fucking know,” you mutter. “Will it?”

He smiles sympathetically. “Wish I knew, darlin’. Would it help if I came? Sat outside in the truck, waited for you? It gets too much, you decide you wanna leave – we leave.”

“You ain’t scared to be near him again?”

He gulps back a laugh, Adam’s apple bobbing awkwardly before he allows himself to answer. “Only thing scary about your dad is the sunlight reflectin’ off his damn head. No, I ain’t scared.”

You study him a minute longer, eyes roaming from the lips you could sketch every score of from memory, the beard you’re sure has forever altered your prints from the number of times you’ve run your fingers over the bristles. The eyes which know every secret, every whisper, every thought behind your own.

You sigh, smiling dumbly as he wraps his arms tighter around you. “Fine. Let’s go.”

Joel pulls up by the curb, parking politely at the end of your driveway rather than alongside your dad’s car, like he usually would. Like he used to.

You crane your head, looking past the shape of him to survey the unassuming house. Quiet, still. No sign of hurricane or earthquake, no tremors of rage or words like rocks raining down on the truck roof. Your thumb plunges into the buckle of your seatbelt, the webbing whipping over your shoulder.

“Sure you’re okay?” Joel asks, watching your fingers lift to the door handle.

“Mhm,” you reply, distant. “’s just my dad, right? What’s the worst that could happen?”

His eyebrows lift, agreeing. He takes your hand in his and holds it to his lips. “Whatever it is,” he mumbles into your fingers, “if it happens, you come straight back out here, you hear? I ain’t moving.”

The urge to stay exactly where you are and let him carry you off back to his place overwhelms you for a brief second. To stay in the safety of the truck cabin, stay within touching distance of Joel. And as quickly as it’s there, it’s gone. Overcome by the memory of that stony hug in Sal’s, the vacant, lonely eyes boring into late-night TV.

A sharp chap over your shoulder shocks you back to life. You twist in your seat, looking down at a face wrinkled by curiosity and wisdom, sheen of lipstick curved in a mischievous grin. You roll the window down, mirroring her smile.

“Joel Miller,” Rita calls, lowering her ring-adorned fist and pointing over to her car. “Help me with these groceries.”

“Afternoon to you, too, Rita,” he calls back, and she raises two thin, penciled eyebrows. His sigh trickles into a chuckle as he snaps the door open, leaning into you. “I ain’t moving,” he mutters, swinging out of the truck.

“Sure looks like you’re movin’,” you call back, letting Rita pull on your door to let you out.

“How are you, darlin’?” she asks. “Haven’t seen you around in a while.”

You hop down beside her, helping her tug the shawl around her arms back over her shoulders. “Yeah, I’ve, uh…I’ve been busy.”

She nods, and then her eyes drift to somewhere behind you. “They go in the kitchen, son.” She points to her house. “I’ll come help you unpack ‘em.”

Joel’s face twists, eyes wide, hands outstretched. You swallow back a laugh when he looks to you, an almost teenage expression which asks, You seein’ this? as he turns back to the Nissan.

“I better go,” Rita says then, giving your arms one last squeeze. “You take care, now. Tell your dad I’m askin’ after ‘im.”

“I will, Rita.” You turn on your heel and saunter around Joel’s truck, giving him one last twirl as he hoists two bags under his muscled arms, rolling his eyes as you spin.

You pull the weight of yourself up your drive, passing past versions of yourself as you near the front door. She’s stumbling towards her dad’s car, a bucket of soapy water sloshing around between her knees. She’s sat on the curb, waiting for Joel’s truck to roll up, praying she never hears another Marty Robbins song again.

She’s naïve, still. Knows no better, knows no worse. Chasing a high, chasing the thrill of being caught and the thrill of nobody ever knowing. A relationship built entirely on lies and deceit. A love woven with dark threads of shame and anger, a tattered mess in one corner where the edges fray and loosen.

And you think: you’ve never felt more jealous of anybody your whole life.

The front door clicks open easily, like the building welcomes you home with a relieved sigh. You follow sunlight into the hallway, feeling it easier to walk through than before – less dense, less suffocating. Less guilty. An honest thief, back to return the bleeding heart she dragged out the door with her.

Secrets like shards of broken glass on the floor, debris from that day. And as if he hears the crunch of your footsteps, your dad appears at the bottom of the hall.

“Hi, hon.”

Eyes wide with a misplaced shock, you say, “Hey.”

“You okay?”

“’m good.”

“Good. Come in, come through.” He beckons you forward, a smile only half-forced on his lips. “You want a drink or anything?”

You follow him into the kitchen, politely accepting a glass of water when he offers it.

He turns with two steady palms on the island, watching as you drag a chair free and sit at the table. “How’s Joel?” he asks, swallowing roughly.

The words come delayed, your open mouth lying in wait. Your body selfishly trying to hoard the information, protective the second the image of that six-foot, two-hundred-pound man crosses your mind. “He’s fine. He’s out front.”

It sounds like a warning, though you don’t mean for it to. Just conversation. He’s helping Rita with her groceries. She’s asking after you, by the way. But your dad seems to sense the natural amber tone of it – the sparking of a flame, daring to catch. He’s waiting for this to go south.

He nods, accepting the fact of it. His own failed attempt to separate the two of you only drove you closer together. Only made you want Joel more.

But then he’s nearing you again, pulling out the chair opposite yours. “I’m glad you’re here,” he says, settling with a sigh. “Glad we’re…we’re talkin’ again, at least.”

Your head angles. “Are we?”

His body jerks, flinching from the sting of the question. “Well,” his head wobbles, jowls quivering, “I sure hope so. I was takin’ it as a good sign that you’re here.”

“I’m here,” you repeat, “but that doesn’t mean I’m staying.”

“No, I know. I know. Joel’s out front, ‘n all that.” He looks down at his hands, clasped in his lap. Holds his tongue behind his front teeth, waiting for the next turn of conversation.

You lean forward, elbows on the table, softening your voice. “Dad?” you say, and he looks up. “This whole entire thing – I think…I think we oughta try and understand each other, a little better. Hear each other out.”

“I am tryin’, hon. I’m really tryin’. You dealt me an awful lot to hear out ‘n understand.”

You rock back, sinking against the hard chair. Tracing the wood grains in the table, nails digging between. Shame coiling like a snake beneath your tongue, taking up too much space in your mouth. Its venom dripping between your teeth, acrid and sour; tendons in your neck jumping with the bitterness of your dad’s tone.

He sighs. “Be honest with me a second.”

“Huh?”

He waits a beat, watching you carefully. Opens his mouth, pauses, and then speaks. “Who instigated it?”

Your finger pushes harder into the surface. Digging new divots. “Um…kinda both of us. Was sort of a two-way thing from the get-go.”

His lips twist, almost imperceptible. He looks behind you to the patio outside. You can’t read what’s in his eyes. It makes you say more, say things you reckon you’ll regret later – but something to fill the silence between you. Something to let him sink his teeth into.

“There was flirting. Lotta flirting. And then it…it just sort of snowballed.”

“Snowballed.” He looks uncomfortable, lifting his hands to cup over his face. “I just didn’t take him as the type,” he says, muffled into his palms.

“As what type?”

He drops his hands, hitting his thighs with a slap, and looks you dead in the eye. Sad, almost. “Arthur Kennedy type.”

“He’s not.”

You say it instinctively. Your ears hear it at the same time your dad does. He looks at you blankly.

“He’s not,” you repeat, a little looser. Less hasty. “Look,” you sigh, “I know it’s not what you want to hear, but…everything that we ever did, I wanted to do. I already told you. There ain’t nothing we did that I didn’t ask him to. I swear to you.”

You think back to the cookout, how angry Joel was at the thought of Arthur Kennedy hanging over you. How pissed he’d be, hearing your dad line him up against that old leather boot of a man. Comparing, contrasting. Here’s how you measure up, son. How much of a phantom Arthur Kennedy has been, your whole life, and how much of a sanctuary Joel is in comparison.

Your stomach twists at the thought. A tight knot, wound by a desperation to clear the name of a man whose worst offense was doing exactly what your dad would’ve told him to: leave.

“This whole thing,” you go on, “it’s a mess, alright? It’s – totally fucked. And we shouldn’t’ve lied, shouldn’t’ve been keeping things from you, but then…what did you expect?”

Your dad cuts in like a bullet: “I expect the two of you not to do what you were doin’.”

“No, I know that. But we did it, right? It’s done now. I meant, did you really want us to sit you down in the living room ‘n say, Hey, Dad – guess what?”

He grimaces at the thought.

“Didn’t think so. We didn’t even know what it was. We had no idea what it’d turn into. But you gotta hear me out: it wasn’t just…some fling, or whatever you’re thinkin’. I swear, Dad, it wasn’t.”

He still doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t lift his stare from the table. You feel like a little kid, desperate to make him love you again. Desperate to make him listen. The space between you fills with the bored tick tick tick of the kitchen clock. Each second hurting a little more than the last.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I’m sorry that I hurt you. I’m sorry I let you down, but…I’m not sorry that I did it. If I could go back, knowing everything I know – I’d do it all over again.”

The words roll across the table to him like billiards. You lean back again, watching them as they rattle from his side to yours – your sentence delivered back into your ears. You nod, a sure thought in your mind.

I’d do it all over again. All the covering, all the hiding. The aching, the wishing and wanting. Staring at Joel’s empty hand, dying to slot yours into it. Dying to put any part of yourself near him; your head under his chin, your arms linked around his waist. Knowing you two would feel, knowing everyone else would see, just how perfectly you fit together.

The chasing your own tails: Did you lie well enough? Do they suspect anything? Did we leave any evidence? Disturbed sheets, a collar still upturned. Can they hear us? Have they noticed we’re missing? We’re always fucking missing.

You’d do it all over again. You know what it cost, now, sat directly opposite the price. His polite smiles like veneers over rotten teeth. The tremble in his lip when he opens his mouth to speak.

And it was worth it. Joel. He was worth it all, in the end.

All over again.

“Do you know that every time I look at you, there are…probably four versions that I see?”

You frown. Did he hear what you just said? All ov–? “What?”

Your dad laughs to himself. “When you walk outta that door, I see a little pink backpack over your shoulders. Gym bag in your hand, maybe. I see missin’ front teeth, I see those little clip-on earrings you used to love so much.

“And – and when you’re mad at me, when we fight, I see you at fourteen. Growing pains, y’know? I still remember you slamming your bedroom door in my face, all ‘cause I wouldn’t let you go to that girl Molly’s birthday party.” He looks up, smiling at your perplexed expression.

“I don’t even…remember that, hardly.”

“Long time ago now. My point is,” he continues, “you’re twenty-three. You’re grown. And I just can’t figure out how to make those other versions…grow with you. You still feel like my kid. Still that little girl with the pink backpack.”

“But,” you clear your throat, trying to swipe her from your own memory, “I’m not. I’m not her anymore, Dad. And I think maybe you gotta give me the space to be someone different, now.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose, nodding. “I know, I know. I just didn’t think this new version of you would…y’know. Be with Joel, ‘n all. That is something I did not see comin’.”

“You think I did?” You spit a laugh. “If you told me when I came home that this is what was waiting for me…that I was gonna fall…”

Your teeth close around the sentence, dropping your dad’s eye. But it’s too late.

He stares back at you like the sun. “…Fall in love with ‘im?”

And you cower. You wince, almost. The last secret. The last thing he doesn’t know. “I don’t…I don’t know, I –”

“You love him. You do, don’t you?”

Your thumbs run circles around one another, fingers locking until your knuckles hurt. “I don’t know,” you mumble, wishing for the tenth time since you sat down that Joel was beside you, in front of you, around you.

“’s what Anna seems to reckon.”

Your eyes flit up. “Anna?”

He hums. “She is her father’s daughter. A damn meddler. She called here, last night.”

“Oh, Jesus,” you groan, head falling into your hands. “Ignore her, please. Ignore all of it. She doesn’t –”

He holds a palm up. “Now, hold on. You don’t even know what it was she said.”

You huff a sigh, twisting your hand in the air. Go on.

“She reckons you do love him. Reckons he loves you back. More, if that’s even possible, she said. Told me all about the way he stepped in front a’ that boy at Frank’s. About your face when he picked you up from rodeo night, how ecstatic you were. The difference she sees in you.”

“Difference,” you scoff, glancing out to the backyard. “What difference?”

“Same difference I see, probably. Same difference Bill said he saw, too: you’re happier. Even I can’t deny it, hon. It’s damn hard – you never make nothin’ easy on your old man – but…but I am willing to try.”

The hurt begins to slowly fizzle away. Cooling, washing from your skin like foamy waves. Curiosity left to shine through.

“You may not understand this ‘til you have kids of your own – if you have kids of your own – but there ain’t a thing in this world that I love more than I love you. And when you love somethin’ that much, you’ll do anything to stop it from getting hurt. Anything. That’s all I want you to know.”

A silence falls between you, thoughtful and waiting. The clock’s ticking grows sharper again. It seems to consider the same as you: there should be more to this. More to be said, to be convinced. More yelling, even.

But you arrive at the same conclusion, at near enough the same time: there is nothing more. Cards flat on the table, eyes pouring all over them. To question it, to second-guess any of it, would be to tempt fate.

“Anyway,” your dad sits forward, clasping his hands on the table, “tell me what’s goin’ on. What’s been happening in your world?”

You shrug. A little, shy thing. “Work. Been hanging with Sarah a lot. And I, uh, I had a job interview last week.”

“Oh, yeah? Where?”

You shift awkwardly in your chair. “For, uh…that one in LA. They called to offer it a couple days ago.”

A smile pulls across his lips. Growing, growing, growing until he’s grinning back at you. Pride, little bit of surprise. Whole lot of amusement and joy. “You take it?” he asks, figuring he knows the answer already.

“Not yet,” you reply. “Think I’m going to, though. ‘s too good to say no.”

He lifts his eyebrows in agreement, looking down at his hands. Shoulders lurch some under the weight of your news. “There goes that little backpack,” he mutters to himself, and you smirk.

“Can’t hold her back forever.”

“I never had a hold on her in the first place. You were walkin’ on outta that door the minute you found your own two feet.”

You snort. “Good! Good for me. Let me go out into the big ol’ world; let me go fuck it all up ‘n come home for dinner once I’m done.”

“I intend to,” your dad says, nodding along to every passionate word you say. And then he asks, “How’s Joel feelin’ about it all? About LA?”

Your shoulder jerks in a half-shrug. “He’s fine, I guess. Says he’ll miss me, but then – we haven’t exactly had the most typical relationship up until now. Survived a lot I reckon would break any normal couple…”

It’s the first time you think you’ve ever said it. Couple. You’ve thought of it – flicked through the words you might use to describe him. Your boyfriend, your partner. None of them seem to fit exactly who he is to you. None of them strong enough to carry the weight of what’s shared between you. He’s Joel. He’s your Joel. Nothing will ever come close.

Your dad hears it, too. The newness of it. The crisp shape of the word, not yet thawed to this new world. Your tongue still learning how to pronounce it, how to pair it with the image of Joel.

“Guess he can fly out ‘n visit whenever, right?”

“Yeah,” you swallow, “and I’ll be back here, too. Christmas ‘n all.”

Your dad smiles. Relieved, assured. Light slowly returning to his eyes.

“We’ll be fine,” your chest swells, “so Joel says. I trust ‘im.”

You both quieten, sitting back in your chairs. What once felt like a room ablaze, flames tearing the skin from your body as you dragged your heels through it – now feels like a gentle warmth. Waves wrought with enough power and force to destroy you, now seeping off with the change of the tide. Bumps on the horizon.

“Speaking of,” you say, making to stand, “I should probably get goin’.”

“Yeah. Yeah, hon.” Your dad follows, arm on your shoulder as he walks you down the hall.

The sun intrudes, tosses herself into your arms as you pull the front door open. In her golden-rayed wake sits that dark truck, same as always. The same dark tee, the same dark-speckled-gray hair. Arms folded, stood against the body, waiting. Eyes on the house, on your figure as you step down onto the doormat. Joel straightens when your dad follows you out, chest sucking in a ragged breath.

They look at one another, and that’s about it. Something of a nod from Joel – not quite returned by your dad. You figure that might take some time to come back around. And that’s okay. You can make peace with it.

You turn back. Your dad’s looking down at you, hand over his eyes to shield them from the sun.

“You know,” you take a deep breath, “the only times he’s ever hurt me, are the times he’s left. The times I haven’t had him around.”

And then you step back, the magnet in your chest telling you it’s time to return to its partner.

In high school, your English teacher tasked the class with writing a short story. Any genre you wanted, any word count up to two thousand. The boys mostly dicked around, wrote action-packed, blood-and-guts garbage. One girl wrote something you’re sure you’d seen in a Hallmark movie before.

But you – you spent two weeks straight, writing. Awake until all hours of the night, hunched over your laptop, sunbathing in the blue hue of an open document. Fingers hammering rapidly into your keyboard.

A man and a woman meet in Central Park. She – hair the color of rust, spilling down her shoulders and lifting at the ends, twisting around the fingers of the blustery wind. A red glow around her third finger where gold once lived. Sat on a bench, alone. Hiding, perhaps. And he – sharp suit and tie, clean-shaven, a steel-blue gaze that might cut glass. Missing the city traffic by taking a walk through the park on his way home. Fleeing, perhaps.

He notices her trench coat first. Bright red, a poppy swaying in the breeze. A little hopeless, a solemn wilt to it. The quickly dampening fire of her hair in the rain, the opaque sheen of polish chipping from her nails. And he thinks he recognizes the constellation of freckles painted across her cheeks. Thinks he might’ve mapped them, once, in some kind of past-life.

She looks up and realizes she recognizes the cut of his gaze. Piercing through her, splitting her in two. Thinks she might’ve felt it before, the opening of her soul to someone who looked just like him – a little more baby-faced, a little more spirited. In some kind of past-life, too.

She stands, and he slows, and they meet somewhere in the middle. Words exchanged; body heat transferred through hugs. Is that really you? You look so different. It’s been years. He doesn’t ask about the lack of jewelry on her third finger. She doesn’t ask about the gray circles beneath his eyes. Just, You wanna grab a coffee? and, Yeah. Yeah, I do.

They sit at the window, watch the yellow taxis and the black umbrellas and the trembling traffic lights. They talk about life then, life now, and silently agree to forget about the part in the middle. They look at each other the same way they must have before they lost one another, before life and love and everything else got between them.

They agree to meet again in a week. They swear that they will not fall back in love.

They know as well as each other that they’re really promising to do just that.

Love – twisted and turned over and over, until it’s a different shape altogether. We started as one thing, and we watched it shift into something completely different. Clay in the potter’s hands. Didn’t you think it might fall apart? There was a moment I thought the heat of the kiln might break us. I’m glad it didn’t. I’m glad we’re made of tough stuff.

I’m glad I found you again, in that park. The pissing rain and the wind so strong I felt it lifting the sense from my mind. In that hardware store, in that bar filled with weed and bad intentions. I’m glad you split me open, glad you could see the good that was still inside. I thought I’d lost her for a minute. Thought she’d forgotten her way home.

Let’s go get a coffee. Let’s pretend it’s always been this way.

Let’s fall in love. The rest will take care of itself.

It takes three weeks in total to properly pack up your things. Two days after you accepted the job, you bought boxes and tape, and began to dismantle the identity you’d spent twenty-three years creating for yourself, a little bit at a time. Taking apart the pink-walled museum of your life, artefact by artefact.

Joel has helped as much as you’ve let him. Laid back on your bed when you’ve dismissed him one too many times, raised his eyebrows and laughed with you whenever you come across some old, forgotten piece of memorabilia. Something ceremonial to it, something innocent and fun. Like a little graduation for all the parts of yourself.

Soon, as the last of the summer sun dampens outside, your room lies vacant. Empty of any real evidence of your being here. Bedsheets and pillows folded, packed away; framed photos and posters unpinned from the wall and wrapped up safely. Drawers and closets barren, left with a selection of your less-loved, less-worn clothes. A wardrobe built from stuff you’ll only ever wear when you come back home to visit, if even then.

Joel’s sat on the bare mattress, looking around your room. You’re stood opposite, leaning against your half-empty dresser. The sun filters feebly through your turned shades, averting her eyes.

You look over at him. Golden, like the sunlight outside. Warm, like the breeze through the trees. Yours. Yours yours yours.

“What?” Joel asks, his eyes having finally found their way back to you. He smiles at your focused expression.

“Nothing. I don’t know. Just…”

“Talk to me. Tell me.”

“You are – this is…” You sigh. “This is good. I think it’s good. Not just all the stuff we did. But you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you tell him. “You’re good for me.” You grip the wooden lip tighter, swaying nervously when you add, “But I think it was always gonna go this way, wasn’t it?”

He sniffs. Shoulders jerk in a weak shrug. “Yeah, I think so, baby.”

Your eyelashes flutter, soothing the prickling feeling of tears forming. “I don’t – I don’t know if I want it to.”

“Yeah,” Joel says through a groan, pushing himself up, “you do.”

You shake your head as he approaches, and his hands cup your cheeks.

“Hey,” he whispers, pulling your body tight against his. Your face buries in his chest; your tears wet on his shirt. He shushes you, rocks you gently back and forth with a hand on the back of your head. “Listen to me.”

“Joel –”

“Listen to me.” He pulls you back, swipes the tears from your cheeks as quickly as they fall. “We’re fine. We are going to be fine.”

“I don’t want to leave you –”

“I know, I know. But you want to go do this. And that’s okay. Both of ‘em, at once.”

Your head shakes again. Like an instinctive reaction to the thought of being separated from him.

Joel smiles softly. “I am going to miss you like hell. You got no idea. But,” he pulls your head back to face his, tucks your hair behind your ear, “I want you to go. You gotta go after this. Right?”

“I know,” you whisper, lungs lurching for breath. “I just – wish it didn’t mean leavin’ you.”

“Darlin’…” Joel coos, pulling you in again. “You know how much I love you? What do I keep tellin’ you? We’ll be alright. It’s you ‘n me, right?”

You nod, salty tears slipping between your lips onto your tongue. When you look up, you notice the same expression on Joel’s face. He blinks his own away before they fall.

“’s you ‘n me,” you repeat, and he pulls your lips together.

You roll your tongue onto his, letting him taste you – all of you. Your mouth, and your thoughts, and your tears, and your pain. You let him take it all, let him hold it for this moment as you breathe him in, let his body fill yours in every way.

Your hands are in his hair, your chest pressed against his; he’s every thought on your mind and every beat in your heart. He’s the blood thrumming through your veins, he’s the oxygen filling your lungs; he’s the words between your teeth and the flesh around your bones.

And he pulls you, and you follow, his shirt in your fist, over to the bed where he lays you gently and falls on top.

“When’s he get back?” he asks, taking your bottom lip between his teeth.

“Later,” you mumble, your fingers picking at the hem of his shirt.

He pushes back, letting you tug it up up up over his shoulders at the same rate he peels your tee from yours, both tossing each other’s clothes to somewhere else in the room. Jeans undone, shorts dragged from your hips, underwear discarded until you’re naked under him, and he’s naked over you, and there’s nothing and no one between.

Joel cradles you, holds you close as he presses a palm roughly against the underside of your thigh, opening your body to him in a way only he’s mastered. In a way you only would, for him.

His hand cups your sex, fingers nudging between your folds, pushing in when your jaw slackens and a wanton moan echoes from your throat across Joel’s tongue.

“Yeah,” he coos, wrist jacking between your legs, “’s my girl. Gotta get you warmed up, huh? Get you nice ‘n wet.”

Your back arches, arms linking around his neck to pull him closer, pull him deeper. Hold him tight enough to you that your bodies feel one, feel connected at the meeting of Joel’s hand and the most intimate part of you; the meeting of your tongues between teeth.

And you gasp, the nudging of his fingers against the deepest part of your body, the messy circles of his thumb on your clit. The shape of him, solid and warm against the seam of your thigh.

You reach down for him, wrapping your fingers around his cock, and his breath hitches. Teeth bump into yours. You’re fucking irresistible to him.

“Darlin’,” his voice is low, daring you to keep going, “you wanna cut this short ‘fore we’re even started?”

You breathe a laugh into his jaw, hot and needy. “You get to play with me,” you whine, “I wanna play with you, too.”

Joel growls, seizing his movements, leaning back in what you take as him granting full access to his body. But then he says, “Turn around,” in a strict voice you’ve come to know as meaning one thing, and you pause.

You peel your eyes from his dick to blink up at him. “Turn –?”

“– around, now.” He takes your waist, hoisting you up until you’re straddling him, holding you inches above his body. “Turn.”

“What the fuck are you –?”

“Many times do I gotta tell you? You said you wanted to play.” He twists your waist until you follow his movements, swinging one leg over the other. He grabs your hips, tugging you back towards his face. “So, play,” he mutters, lowering your cunt down to his lips.

You gasp, falling forward and hitting the mattress between his legs. “J– fuck me. Are you s-serious?” You moan, hips rocking against the feeling of his bearded chin at your clit. “You’re like – a fucking – horny teenager. Oh, fuck.”

Your head falls forward, hands splaying out over his thighs, before your eyes refocus and you notice the hardened shape of him, tip oozing precome all over the hair-spattered plain of his groin. Your hand lifts, shakily taking hold of him again, and you lean down.

Elbows hooked over his thighs, you bring his tip to your lips, letting a thick bead of saliva fall and drip down the length of him, meeting your closed fist to be dragged up and down.

Joel’s hips almost buck. He holds it, manages to catch it, but you spot it. You’ve done this too many fucking times not to notice the reaction you draw from him.

“’s good,” you whisper, circling your hips on his face, tongue slipping across his cherry-red tip. “Feels so good.”

He responds in the form of a deep groan, rattling from his chest through your clit, shocking like lightning up your spine until the very same noise is thrown from your lips. You push down, tongue molding around every vein and the slow curve of his cock until your lips meet the thick brush of hair at his base, his tip kissing the very back of your throat.

Your throat which jumps, jolts at the feeling of something intruding – before you’re retreating again, pulling him from your body, warm, wet spit linking the two of you when you come up for air. And then you sink back down, head moving up down up down up down as his stomach tenses beneath your chest.

Joel’s palms keep a heavy hold on your ass, his tongue lapping between your folds like they’re the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted – like he might die if he doesn’t get his fix of you. And you think, they are, and he might, as your cheeks hollow and you bow down over him again.

You establish a rhythm, two waves swirling between one another: your hips rocking, Joel’s lifting ever so slightly as you suckle on one another. Your hand fisting the parts of him you can’t quite reach, not without choking; Joel holding you fixed to his jaw, letting the tip of his tongue hook around your swollen clit, then dragging it down until he’s letting you ride the wet muscle.

The approach of your first orgasm, a tiny spark catching to life in the pit of your belly, incites you with a need to open up further for him. Your throat taking more of him, your thighs slackening as you drive your cunt harder against his mouth.

“’m so close,” you whimper, lips curving around his cock. “So – fucking – ah, keep doin’ that. Right th-there.”

His hands hook around your thighs, tongue darting across your clit. His nose nudges somewhere between your folds, quickly becoming coated in the slick you’re leaking all over him.

“Joel,” you say, fists pumping his cock. Your voice a warning: it’s coming. You’re gonna – Fuck, you’re gonna come.

His voice is looser, more of a shrug of the shoulders when he pulls away from you. He inserts two fingers, curls them like before, like he knows drives you fucking insane. “Let go, babygirl,” he murmurs, lips immediately returning to position. And then, muffled and rough: “Come all over me.”

“Fuckfuckfuck,” you pant, hands squeezing around his cock, feeling that same spark ignite into flame, your entire body bursting with heat.

Your high rips through you, battering through each vein in your system, each nerve electrified. You collapse between his legs, his rough pubic hair sticking to the sweat on your chest, hips rutting wildly against the sharp cut of his jaw.

The mattress absorbs most of the desperate moan which streaks across your tongue, nails digging hard into the flesh of Joel’s thighs. And you hear the deep sound of his voice, the thud thud thud of a chuckle against your clit: the cocky fucker laughing to himself as he unravels you for what feels like the thousandth time.

“Alright,” Joel says, more to himself than to the fucked-out shape of you between his legs. He sits up and shifts you carefully down the bed, settling you face-down on the mattress and lifting your ass to meet his hips. “Okay?” he asks, kneeling behind you.

You feel his tip between your legs, slotting happily somewhere in your opening. Waiting for your response. A response you don’t feel able to give, as much as you’d like to; your lips puffy and confused, words jumbling behind them in a tangle of bliss and love.

“Baby,” Joel says, hand slinking down your back, pressing gentle circles into the nape of your neck. “You okay?”

Your head lifts, glancing over your shoulder to see his hairy torso, his thick arms caging over you. He lifts your chin with two fingers, cranes your neck up until you’re looking into his eyes, heavy lids blinking dumbly.

“Just fuck me,” you whisper, and Joel slips his tongue into your mouth.

You used to dream of coming back home. A few years away, doing whatever you wanted, wherever you wanted. Dreaming things up and then chasing them until they happened. Tiring yourself out, lungs gasping for breath and eyes always searching, always looking for a new target to pin up. But always coming back.

Austin, Texas. Its jagged skyline, the streets lined with a vibrant glow and star-spangled bunting. The river like a silver-bellied snake slithering through. Home.

You dreamt of living out your days here, once your blood had slowed and your mind settled. A quiet life in the country, a big wooden house with a wraparound porch. Two little rocking chairs, so you and whoever your husband turned out to be could sit and watch the sky fade from red into orange into white and then dull gray into deep blue.

Breeze kissing your cheek, his lips kissing your knuckles.

Joel.

Home.

You tell him, and he smirks. “That so?” he asks, wrapping his arms a little tighter around your naked body.

You nuzzle your cheek into the palm of his hand, breathing in the sweet scent of sweat and sex sitting in the air. “Mhm. You could play guitar until the stars come out.”

He hums in agreement. “Sounds like a pretty good dream. Tell you what: you go to LA, do what you gotta do. By the time you come back, there’ll be a big ol’ farmhouse, wraparound porch, rollin’ fields for the dogs. Coffee ‘n sunsets. How’s that sound?”

“And you’ll be there?”

He smiles. Scoops you in one arm and rolls you onto your front, chest to chest with him. His fingers ghost down the curve of your shoulder. “Baby,” he whispers, “I built the damn thing.”

It forces a laugh from your chest, something you’ve gotten used to by now. Joel and his ability to steal a giggle from you, the dumbest moments seeming the funniest. “You’re gonna build me a damn house?” you ask, chin resting between his pecs.

“That what you want?”

Your head rocks left to right, considering. “I just want you. That’s all.”

“Then you got me. I’m all yours.”

In his hazel eyes lives every moment you’ve ever shared. Every conversation, every kiss, every fight. Every minute he’s spent looking for you or at you, every minute you’ve spent looking back at him. It’s all in there. You see it like a movie reel, frame by frame.

It lands like a slot machine on that first night. Cleaning up after pizza. Shoulder to shoulder by your kitchen sink. You wish you’d just kissed him. Even with your dad right there. Wish you’d lifted your heels and put your lips on his, just for the fucking hell of it. Just to condense all of it, every second of longing and hurt and pain into one fleeting moment.

Wish you’d pulled him into you, against you, the weight of his body like an old friend. Welcomed it with open arms, like you’d spent your entire life missing it, waiting for it to come back to you. Let yourself feel your own heart, peeling between the cage of your ribs, reaching out for his. Always reaching for him.

Wish you’d looked him in the eye, tears softening the tufts of graying hair, vignetting the smirk only you can tell is there. Looked at him in that knowing way, that language only you two know; the glint in your eyes translating a thousand messy words into three. Just three – the simplest, lightest words you’ve ever known.

I love you. Let’s skip to the good part.

#welp i didn't cry when i hit post. me? no. no way #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #the last of us #tlou #tlou fic #dbf!joel miller #dbf!joel #joel miller smut #cowboy like me

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scuderiahoney · 3 months

Note

Hello again box box! Me and my friends were doing a “do you have a crush on your best friend” quiz with each other and there was a question about whether you get jealous when they get a romantic partner and while I did say that I definitely got jealous (what was this man doing stealing my bestie🤨) imagine that with Oscar and the emotional aftermath of a confession like that…

-🦐

hi I wasn’t sure if this was a blurb request or not but I wrote a blurb anyways!! I’m calling this part of my 1k celebration. anyways this was a cute little idea I’d also be jealous if Oscar was my bestie

“What?” You ask, staring at your friends, bewildered. “Why is everyone looking at me like that?”

“You get jealous of Oscar’s girlfriends?” One of them asks, wide eyed.

“Well- yeah, but not like, in a weird way,” you say, shrugging. “Like. You know. We’re best friends, we spend a lot of time together. When he’s dating someone that changes. So.”

Someone elbows you. “That’s not normal.”

You rear your head back. “Okay, well it is for us. We’ve talked about it, he feels the same when I’m dating someone. We’re not like, toxic about it.”

You’re met once again with wide eyed looks. Someone calls your name from across the yard, and you sigh in relief- it’s Oscar. You turn to go towards him. The rest of your friends move on to a different topic, but someone grabs your arm. One of your closest female friends. She has her brows furrowed.

“The two of you being jealous of each other dating people,” she says, firmly. “That’s not normal.”

You blink at her. “Well, neither of us are dating anyone right now so it doesn’t matter. Seriously, it’s-“

“No, I understand that the two of you have talked and agreed it’s fine,” she says. “But I’ve seen the way you look at each other. You’re in love, and you’d be stupid to waste it.”

You look around your group of friends, hoping nobody else heard. Your face grows warm with embarrassment. Instead of responding, you just turn back towards Oscar. He’s watching you from across the yard, gaze warm and soft, and something hits you deep in your gut. Your heart skips a beat. Shit. You turn back towards your other friend, eyes wide. She starts to laugh.

“You can’t seriously just be figuring this out,” she says, gaping at you.

You nod and press your lips together.

“Oh my god,” she says, softly.

A hand lands on your shoulder. Without looking, you know it’s Oscar, you can tell just by the weight of his fingers. Obviously he’s grown tired of waiting. Your friend widens her eyes at you.

“I need a partner for a game,” Oscar says. You turn to him, and he stares back with a warm gaze. “You in?”

You nod. Your friend pokes your side. You ignore it, and the fluttering feeling in your stomach. Your emotional epiphanies will have to wait- there’s beer pong to be won.

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cryinginmyroomsposts · 3 months

Text

New Year's Day - Kim Mingyu

tags: fluff, friends to lovers, slight angst, lil' bit jealous, college boyfriend Mingyu, non-idol!au

masterlist

Not proofread!

"Tell me why we thought hosting a New Year's party at our apartment would be a good idea!" Your roommate's voice comes booming from the kitchen as you struggle to organise the lights on the wall above the sofa in your shared apartment living room.

"It definitely was not my idea." You bite back, regretting the idea the more by the minute as you clean and plan for the party.

"Haw! The audacity... you invited 15 people." Sam glares at you from the doorway, one hand on her hip and the other holding a ladle in a menacing way.

"I didn't know we would end up having to invite all of them." You admit. Sam sighs and walks towards you. "It's okay babe, I know you only wanted to invite Mingyu. It's not your fault he wanted to bring all 12 of his friends. And that two of them would want to bring their significant others."

"I really am sorry for all the trouble you go through for me Sam. I really appreciate it. Thanks." You both know you mean it. Sam had agreed immediately to the idea of the party seeing as how excited she was to see you and Mingyu get together.

Mingyu had been one of your closest friends in the last two years of university and you have been in love with him since the first semester you had met him. After two very lonely and self-destructive semesters of breaking your own heart, watching him date other girls and staying away from the one person you wanted to be close to, this last fall semester Mingyu had finally shown signs of reciprocating your feelings. Or so Sam felt.

At this point, you were so in your head about the whole thing that you could not differentiate reality from the illusions in your head. Breaking your heart had become a child's play for you and now it took constant encouragement and reiteration from Sam to even try to make moves on Mingyu.

He had been single for a whole semester and his behaviour toward you recently had been way different than before. The whole idea of a New Year's Eve party had been Sam and your idea to get Mingyu to finally realise his emotions (if he had any other than that of friendship for you). While the details had not exactly been worked out, you figured you would at least get to spend time with him in a closed setting.

The initial plan was to invite three of each of your friends and keep it as intimate as possible so that you and Mingyu could spend most of the time together. But when Mingyu had excitedly asked if he could bring along some friends, you had given in thinking it would be two or three but it ended up being thirteen instead. Not your fault that he looked like an absolute puppy when he wanted something.

The party was in an hour and now the two of you were running around trying to set right the drinks, decorations and food. Mingyu had promised to show up earlier and help with the food and setup but he was yet to arrive.

The sound of the doorbell breaks your train of thought and you go to open the door.

Speak of the devil.

"Ya! Why are you so late?" You question before he could greet you. As always Mingyu towers your entire doorway while looking gorgeous. He's wearing a simple black tee and joggers but manages to look like a million bucks.

He giggles and pulls you into one of his famous bear hugs and before he can reply another voice echoes from the stairs leading to your doorway.

"Mingyu ya, help me here please." The voice is soft and high-pitched. Before you can question it, Mingyu turns around and runs downstairs. When he returns, there is a girl in front of him, she is dressed in a modest pink dress, with bouncy curls lining her shoulders and a smile that lightens up her whole face. She is very pretty.

"Oh hi. You must be Y/N, Mingyu talks about you a lot. I'm Maya." She says extending her hand out to you. Her voice is soft and she looks very friendly and you shake her hand with a smile on your face.

"Hi, Maya. Welcome! I hope he has only told good things." You joke lightly and she laughs nodding.

"Yes, yes! I hope it is not a problem for me to join." She says as you lead her in, Mingyu towers over both of you as he walks behind her holding a box full of you're not sure what.

"Absolutely not an issue Maya! Please go have fun."

Once they are in, you close the door and walk straight to the closest restroom. When the locks are secured you open the tap and let out a breath that you didn't know you were holding in. It is not logical for you to jump to conclusions, but the fear still creeps in.

"Y/N, stop being stupid! She's a friend, seems sweet and is probably an amazing friend." You tell yourself through the mirror. But the problem is not her, you wouldn't hate or behave differently with her for a second. the problem is you and your fear that Mingyu has again chosen someone else over you. The problem is he doesn't see you, again, and you get left behind to be the best friend only, again.

The feelings are all too familiar to you after all this time. You are very close to breaking your own heart, hurting yet another piece of you to show up as Mingyu's good friend and support him. You are almost entirely convinced and right as you are about to break down the knock on the bathroom door interrupts you.

"Ya Y/N, you okay?" Mingyu's soft "Y/N-voice" (as Sam calls it) booms through the bathroom doors and stabs your heart like a glass shard. This is why it is so much harder to break your own heart. Because this man is so good and caring and everything you could ever want and yet he would never be yours.

"Y/n?" He calls out again. You wash your face and clear your throat as fast as possible. "Yeah, I'll be out in 5. Go mingle with people." He doesn't reply and you are too preoccupied trying to look party-presentable. This is why you jump when you find him staring right at you when you open the bathroom door.

"Jesus! Why did you scare me like that?" You ask trying to calm your heart rate. Instead of replying to you, he locks the closed room door and faces you while holding your shoulders. "What happened? Who should I hurt?" You chuckle and the worry on his face eases a little bit. His care for you only makes it so much harder to distance yourself and try to move on. This man makes it so hard not to love him.

"I'm fine Mingyu. I just had to use the restroom." You try your best to sound convincing but judging from the look of judgment on his face you can say he didn't buy it. Before he can begin his usual "Let people care about you" rant, Sam calls your name from the other end of the house and you excuse yourself to return to the chaos of the party. The rest of the three hours go by in absolute chaos of 13 grown men and 6 girls trying their best to socialize, vibe, and party in your apartment. You keep your distance from Mingyu and Maya, and find yourself clinging to Seokmin- Mingyu's friend. Seokmin is a very hot guy who is determined to be the party clown and you can't help but laugh every other minute at his antics. Everyone seems to be enjoying it, and several games are played.

"Everyone gather round and settle down. Ten minutes to midnight guys!" The sudden excitement in the air is infectious. You see that Seungcheol and Jihoon have settled on the couch with their girlfriends, Vernon is trying to be subtle about sitting next to Sam's classmate who he has been talking to since the evening began.

Right as you can figure out what to do about your Midnight seat, Sam pulls you into the kitchen.

"Where do u think you are going ?" She has the usual no-bs Sam stance, arms crossed across her chest and sharp eyes that can pierce through you.

"I- I am going to sit before Midnight strikes." You know where this conversation is headed.

"Y/N, why were you going to sit on the stool, alone. At midnight." If Sam's eyes were daggers, you would have bled to death in those few seconds of eye contact. The living room is buzzing with energy and you realize there are only 5 minutes left.

"Sam..." you exhale. She shakes her head in disappointment and walks away. You face the kitchen wall away from the living room and breathe.

Inhale... Exhale... Inhale... Exhale... In- "Hey..."

Mingyu's soft voice breaks your flow and you whip your head to see him standing right next to you. His palm is placed on the kitchen counter next to you and he is practically shielding you from the outside world.

"All okay?" He says, his voice is soft and slow. His eyebrows are furrowed in concern and he is leaning down to your height, face inches apart. His face is dripping with concern and it breaks yet another piece of your heart.

It would've been much simpler if you had only considered him a good friend like he does with you.

Mingyu lifts his eyebrows emphasising his question when you don't reply. You clear your throat and nod in affirmation.

"I'm good Gyu." "You sure?" You let a small smile at his concern, god he was so sweet. "Yes, Gyu. Don't worry. Just needed a small break from all the crowd before the new year."

He nods because he understands that sometimes crowds can overwhelm you.

"Why are you here?" You ask him, turning slightly to face him better. This immediately turns out to be a mistake as you are now trapped in between the kitchen counter and Mingyu's big frame. As the noise outside gets louder he leans further down toward your face and you repeat your question closer to his ear.

Can he hear how fast your heart is beating? Will he ever know how much you like him?

"I came to check on you because you were missing." He states matter-of-factly and you roll your eyes.

"There are only two more minutes for midnight Gyu. You should be out there, having fun."

"Yeah, you too." He sounds serious and you sigh.

"I will come out but you should go there. Maya will be waiting for you." Your voice croaks the last sentence and the knife in your heart sinks in further.

Mingyu looks confused at your words. "Why would she be waiting for me?"

"30 seconds to the New Year guys!" Someone shouts from the living room and you take another deep breath. Mingyu's eyes haven't left you and you are too nervous to see him for more than a second at a time.

"See less than a minute. Go out there before you miss your midnight kiss." You say in the brightest tone you can muster, hoping he understands you are referring to Maya and his midnight kiss.

"I don't need to be out there for that." He says the words slowly as his face is inches away from yours.

Huh?

Judging by the smirk on Mingyu's face you probably look like a deer caught in headlights at the moment. You're not sure how long you stay frozen like that until someone yells 15 seconds from the living room.

"Wha- what do you mean?" You gulp.

Mingyu moves his face closer, and he lifts one hand from the counter next to you to hold your chin. He angles your face and analyses it.

"Y/N?" Mingyu's voice comes out in a question, one you seem to be understanding.

Your heart is screaming in joy - "HE WANTS YOU TO BE HIS NEW YEAR'S KISS".

Your head is screaming in fear - "HE IS TOYING WITH YOU. RUN."

You gulp again. Mingyu has the softest smile on his face.

"Mingyu, don't play with my heart." Your voice is barely audible but you know Mingyu heard you. The smile on his face illuminates his eyes.

"Would never dream of it." He says in a deep and soft tone.

"5 SECONDS", a voice travels from the living room.

"Is this real, Gyu?" Your heart is beating in your eyes and you are staring deep into his.

He is now holding your face in both of his palms and your back is pressed on the kitchen counter.

"3 SECONDS!"

"As real our beating hearts, Y/N."

You believe him. Your heart believes him. Your brain has shut the fuck up for once.

"2 SECONDS GUYS!"

"So... can I kiss you ?" Mingyu's expression is now clouded with worry and you smile from your heart.

"1 SECOND!"

You nod quickly and right as everyone from the living room is yelling Mingyu's lips come crashing on yours.

It is everything you imagined, and so much more. His lips move against yours slowly. Both of you are smiling into the kiss. Neither of you is in a hurry at that moment, He is savouring you and you are melting into him.

After what feels like an eternity, both of you break apart for the practical purposes of breathing( who invented that huh?!).

Mingyu's face is still close to yours, lips lightly brushing against each other's.

The living room is bursting with energy and all your friends are there but you couldn't care less about anything at this moment.

"Happy New Year." Mingyu sounds content, his eyes are shining with happiness and his smile is incandescent.

"Happy New Year Gyu."

"I'm never starting a new year any other way after this," Mingyu says and you laugh. "Or any day for that matter." He states as he wraps his arms around your waist now.

God, you could get used to this!

"Oh wow, loverboy! Slow down... we still need to talk about things." You remind him because you have always been the one to bring all the anxiety and sense into this relationship.

"Hmm yeah, but a kiss first?" He asks in his signature puppy-Mingyu face. As you're about to lean in you see Sam enter the kitchen from the corner of your vision. She is startled at first and then breaks into the biggest smile as she leaves the two of you alone.

Your smile widens as Mingyu captures your lips once again.

It's been 5 minutes but this is already turning out to be your favourite year ever!

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psychickiss · 8 months

Text

i’m not too late

— saiki kusuo x reader (gn, 2nd pov)

— summary: You come over to Saiki’s house to give him a (kind of last minute) birthday gift, which ends with you two hanging out in his room.

— notes: nottt beta read also!! maybe ooc kusuo 😵 also also! dt @kusuokisser

— things: confessions... blah blah... romantic!! quite awkward

— masterlist | request form | retrospring

Saiki’s mom calls out to her son, “Ku! Check who’s at the door for me, please?”

Saiki nods. He’s already heard the inner voice of whoever rung the doorbell to his home– he knows it’s you, and he knows why you’re there.

“Belated happy birthday, Saiki! Sorry I’m late, I didn’t know your birthday at first.”

Now, he needs a way out.

First, he accepts your gift. Maybe you’ll leave after he takes it. Of course, Saiki can’t just rudely shut the door on you– he doesn’t want to hurt your feelings get scolded by his mom. So, he engages in small talk. “It’s alright. You got the month right, at least. The only ones who greeted me correctly are Mera, Aiura and– to my surprise– Toritsuka.”

Confused, you ask, “And who... got the month wrong?”

“Everyone else. We partied in May. Is that all?”

Saiki tunes in to your thoughts, and he’s hopeful he’ll spend the rest of the day alone. Yes? No? I wanted to hang out, but maybe not? He clings onto that “maybe not” of yours.

Like any other person, you get curious. You ask him again, “No...? May? You guys partied in May?”

“It’s a long story,” he says. He’s hearing your (still) inquisitive thoughts. Saiki internally sighs. I need to get this over with, quick. There’s a show I want to watch that airs at 4:30 PM. It’s only 1 PM, but time is fast. He steps to the side, allowing you to walk past the gate. He doesn’t know why he’s letting you in. Saiki takes off his footwear before entering his house, and you do the same.

Saiki announces his presence to his mom, as well as yours. “Oh, dear! Are you here to celebrate Ku’s birthday? Have you eaten lunch already?”

You nod in response to both questions from Saiki’s mom. “Well, I’m not too sure about the celebration part... I figured I’d just give Saiki his gift, then leave–”

Saiki’s mom shakes her head. “No, stay! You obviously made the effort to come all the way here. Stay as long as you’d like.”

Good grief. Saiki forgot to take his mother’s friendly nature into account...

“Okay, I’ll stay.”

... As well as your politeness. Not to mention, the fact you’ve been looking for opportunities to be alone with him.

So, you and Saiki head up to his room.

You two aren’t the closest of friends. Sure, you’d go straight for him when you needed a partner for school and you two would sometimes walk home together, but you aren’t as close to him as Nendou and the others.

That doesn’t stop you from having feelings for Saiki, though. What started as a silly crush to help you pass the time in class developed into full-on fantasies of going on dates with him.

Usually, Saiki wouldn’t mind such things when it came to people like you– people who don’t act on their feelings– because that means he wouldn’t need to actively avoid you, but you confused him.

Saiki sometimes wanted nothing more than to ask you about your feelings for him, but that just felt uncharacteristic for him to do.

He wants you to act on your feelings– tell him how you feel. For what reason? He cannot put a pin on it. Not yet.

Saiki opens the door to his room, letting you enter first.

You sit on the foot of his bed and ask, “Did you have fun?”

Saiki sits on the chair in his room, which isn’t too far from you, before answering. “I don’t really celebrate my birthday in the way others would, but I splurged and bought lots of coffee jelly. My mother baked cake too.”

You give him a small smile. “So, is that a yes?”

Saiki nods.

Saiki didn’t really have much of a plan or intention to kick you out of his house. You didn’t talk his ear off as often as his other friends, so he figures you two can sit in his room alone in silence. He doesn’t hear you mentally complain, anyway. Most of your thoughts at that moment were in regards to the way his room looked.

Most of your thoughts.

I should ask about the show that’s going to air later this noon. Oh. My god. I can’t believe I’m alone with the guy I like, it’s the perfect time to confess!

Saiki hears your thoughts, yet he does not do anything about the confession part. He and you both know you’ve thought of confessing your feelings multiple times but chickened out everytime.

Hm. Saiki wonders if this time, you get the courage and finally tell him. He knows what he’ll say.

Your eyes dart nervously to Saiki, then at the TV right next to his bed, where you’re seated.

“Have you... Do you know about the show that’s airing later? 4:30?”

Saiki nods.

“Would you want to watch it together?” You take a deep breath after asking. Fortunately, he nods.

“Would you like something to drink? Or eat?” Saiki asks. If you’re staying, he might as well be a good host.

“Ah, just water. Maybe, uhm, coffee jelly– if you’re going to get some of your own.”

Saiki nods and he exits his room, leaving you alone.

You eye the gift you handed to Saiki. You had only gotten him a cardigan, unsure of any specific tastes of his, although the design was quite... un-Saiki; it wasn’t plain, but it wasn’t too much design. It just didn’t look like something he’d wear often, though you figured he could probably try out new things.

You just hope he likes it. To be safe, you had bought him a gift card to the store you got his gift from.

Saiki opens the door with a tray in his hands. Two cups of coffee jelly and one glass of water.

You make yourself comfortable on the floor of his room, Saiki sitting across from you and setting the tray down.

You take a sip of water before muttering, “Thank you.” Saiki gives a small nod before silently eating his coffee jelly.

He doesn’t really like being talked to while he’s eating, you think. You’re left to just look at Saiki with that expression he’s always wearing when he’s eating anything sweet. It’s cute.

You’re opting to confess, Saiki feels it. As unromantic as the scene seemed to be– two friends sitting on the floor without talking– he figures if he should be confessed to, it’d have to be nothing grand.

Plus, he knows what he’ll reply, anyway. He’s prepared his response since the first time you backed out of confessing to him.

You grab a plastic spoon and open your cup of coffee jelly. Before you take a bite of the sweet treat, you finally say the words.

“I like you.”

I know. I’m still chewing, hang on.

You quickly eat a spoonful of coffee jelly before Saiki could even respond. Say something, please?

You anxiously eat your coffee jelly, waiting for Saiki to finish eating his.

...

Finally, finally, Saiki replies.

“I don’t really know yet, but I might like you too.”

You feel as though a wave of relief washes over you. At least it’s not a rejection. Oh my god. “Really?”

Saiki nods. He doesn’t say anything else, and in shock, neither do you.

“Don’t ask me how I know this–”

Mentally, you interject, I probably won’t, but continue.

“–but I know you’ve liked me for a while now.”

You sigh in frustration. “I thought I was hiding it well...”

I can’t help that I have telepathy. Saiki discards that thought, instead saying, “No, you were pretty obvious.”

You laugh quietly. “God, I’m sorry! Glad that you might like me back. At least that being obvious wasn’t in vain.” You smile at Saiki. “Belated happy birthday, again. Next year, I’ll be sure to greet you on time.”

Saiki lets out an amused hum. “We’ll see.”

#saiki kusuo x reader #saiki x reader #saiki k x reader #saiki k #saiki kusuo

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heyhihellosworld · 8 months

Text

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞

Charles Leclerc x reader

Word count: 2.7k

Summary: Sending your boyfriend alone with his friends to Ibiza shouldn't be a problem, right?

Warnings: Angst, mentions of cheating, slightly toxic relationship (or maybe a lot)

Notes: Angst is all I can write right now so here is some for you all. I just wanted to clear everything up with the pictures as well. I did not intent to include the girls in the story. The girls mentioned in the story is made up people but since it's so much easier to find pictures with them and Charles I chose to have the pictures. This is a bit messy but I tried

Summer break was made for relaxation, made to spend time with family and friends, made for rest. It was suposed to be a break from the hectic reality, a break from all the different surroundings and traveling. A break from formula one.

However summer break didn't feel like any of those things for you. No it was nothing that at all. All it was was hurt, stress and heartbreak. Anger and betrayal, no time to rest and no relaxation.

A fucking mess was what it was.

Charle's eyes were wide blown, like he were a kid caught doing something he shouldn't and it was pretty accurate, he had been caught

"Don't look at me like that" you spat at him, feeling anger brewing in your veins after you'd found him stood on your doorstep, begging you to talk, fucking talk

You didn't need to talk you needed to scream, punch or at least kick something. Your anger needed to get an outlap from your body, trapped in your clenched fists.

His adorably sad face made your frustrations hit the roof.

You stood far away as he stepped into your condo, only in your pj's as it was too fucking early in the morning.

Your whole body hurt as he did those small things he always did at your house, like taking off his shoes and neatly putting them to the right of your door and changing the date on the small date-decoration you had on the hallwaybench. Something so domestic didn't feel right anymore, he had betrayed the right.

You had been with him for a year by now, a year of exciting travels, experiences, love and adoration. He had been your closest person for a long time, having had you under his wing and you genuienly thought he would be the one to the end. The one you'd end up marry and have a family with, the one to the end.

But oh how things can turn

"You're really about to let him go with his friends to Ibiza just like that?"

You shrugged at Carmen who stood over you on the sofa, her hands on her hips looking like a scolding parent. Her face was showed suprise, eyebrows raised and mouth in tight line.

"I don't know what I can do about it, he wants to go, I can't" you simplified, met with her shaking of the head. Letting you know she didn't think this was a good idea, didn't approve of it.

"What? You don't trust him?" you asked, looking her in the eyes, a rush of concern errupting in your body. "Do you?" she countered seriously

You sat up, shrugging your shoulders again, an unsettling feeling in your body "I don't know, I mean I really should, we've been together for a year"

"That's not a yes sweetie"

You groaned, throwing you head back "Ugh I don't know, I still can't get Ana out of my head you know"

"I know and I can't either, that's why I'm sceptical" "Well fine but that was a a year ago, straight in the start in our relationship, I wanna think he wouldn't do anything like it again" you spoke

"Okay, okay, it's your relationship" Carmen nodded, finally sitting down next to you in the sofa. "I don't wanna worry you y/n, all is that I care about you and that I want you to be happy and he just.. he screwed up once so I can't trust him"

The sigh that left your mouth was heavy, you knew she was right but you didn't want to admit it. You had been together for long, trying to push the warning signals to the ground, maybe it was time to see them for real.

"Well what to do, let's hope he dosen't screw this up" you sighed, dusting the dirt of your pants before standing up, looking at your friend who stroppily looked back at you "Again" she snarled

Wagsgossip

Liked by 573 783

Wagsgossip Charles Leclerc seen with multiply different women, women who is clearly not his girlfriend Y/n.

Charles Leclerc reportedly left to Ibiza with some friends and co-drivers on the grid this monday. Leclercs girlfriend Y/n, who he has been dating for around a year was not with the group to Ibiza despite the fact that many of the other guys have their missus with them. Rumours about the pair has been spread over the course of the last few weeks regarding a possible break up but nothing has been official if that's the case.

Pictures have been spread all over internet of Leclerc now cozying up to multitude different girls, wonder how this will reach Y/n

What do you think of this?

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f1lovees OMG what is he DOING?!

justanInchident No Leclec, no

charcharles finally

f1111 He fumbled

chacha Please tell me this isn't true

Carmen was at the door before you even had the time to gather your head around the articles that traveled all over the internet. You'd felt it coming, felt it since he took the step onto that fucking plane, you knew this was it. You should have known better, he was who he was, like he was, he was an ass.

Charles were sweet and loving, soft and calm. He was fun to be around and when things were good between you he was someone you could picture forever with. The only thing was that when he fumbled, he fumbled hard.

The first weeks into your relationship one of those situations had accured, he had seen this girl, behind your back a bit into your relationship. You should have put the breaks in then, but you hadn't. Forgiven and forgotten you'd said.

Now you regretted that.

You should have ended it before it even started after that fuck-up but you didn't, too smitten by his adorable smile and light mood. You got to pay the price.

And you did because now you stood here like an idiot.

Carmen stormed into your apartment, steam practically brewing from her ears as she let out a shout of frustration. "I told you! I told you you couldn't trust the fucker!"

You huffed, not knowing what to say or do, it wasn't rage, not sadness, no all you felt were emptiness, maybe a tad of embarrassment.

"He is such an idiot! I can't believe him!"

"Carmen calm down, it's fine. I guess"

"It's not fucking fine! Come on Y/n! He cheated on you! He made a complete fool out of you!" she spoke, her eyes so wide you worried they were gonna pop out of her skull.

Like on cue George stormed into your small condo, seemingly out of breath and clutching his stomach. "Shit, I'm so sorry Y/n, I tried to make her give you some space but she ran... fast"

You couldn't help but let out a small giggle at your friends. It felt weird in your body, not knowing what was going on, knowing your relationship would end. You didn't know how to react.

George sat down next to you in the sofa, taking your computer who sat next to you with the articles open. "I can't actually believe it" George muttered to himself as he scrolled to the hundred different articles and pictures that was circling around.

"I'm sorry but why aren't you more upset?!" Carmen spoke harshly, George shooting her a disaproving look "I mean, I am upset but it just feels like... I knew I had it coming"

"What?" Geogre echeod Carmen "I don't know, it just feels like our whole relationship is built on false hope, on false trust. Like since our rocky beginning I knew deep down something like this would get the best of us. I knew he would fuck up again and since the idea of Ibiza came up I don't know... I just felt it coming"

"Are you not mad at all?" George asked shocked but you laughed coldly at his question

"Of course I'm fucking pissed. Lets face it, the man tricked me into false hopes and false trust. He made me feel loved and comfortable only to go and jump the closest girl the second I'm not there. He made me look like a fucking fool in front of the media, not once, not twice but for all this year. Fucking hell, I can't believe I've actually been this blind, stupid love eyes" you grumbled, facinated by your own realization

"Finally" carmen sighed out, looking at you with a soft smile.

"So, what are you gonna do about it? Has he even contacted you about it?" George asked, propping his elbows on his knees, leant forward in the sofa. "No, he hasn't. He's probably to gushed with some chick down in Ibiza to even see all the notifications and articles. But when he do, well then he's gonna hear it all" Just as on cue your phone started ringing, the tone making you flinch up from the sofa. You didn't touch it, just stared at the phone which showed you Charles contact.

The ringing stopped, replaced by a never ending buzz as he sent you message after message and Carmen sighed

"Do you want us to stay?"

You shook your head "No, it's fine, thank you though, for coming so soon" you smiled, hugging both of them before walking them out the door.

When the door locked it felt like someone poured a bucket with ice-cold water over your head. Fuck.

This was the reality, this was actually happening. A sick feeling settled to your stomach, how could he do this? Why would he do this? Everything had been great, hadn't it?

You swallowed thickly before walking back to the sofa, settling in it, your knees to your chest as you put on the tv, hoping the sounds would distractract your wandering mind.

Soon enough you couldn't ignore your phone anymore, the never ending buzzing and ringinging on boardeline to drive you crazy.

"Yes Charles?" You spat down the phone, drowned by a hundred words at once. He shouted down everything he could down the phone and you could only make out certain words from the blur.

"We are not talking about this on the phone" you cut him off firmly. "Fuck, okay but I'm not home in another few hours, please stay there, I can explain"

"Just stop talking until you're here" you muttered, clicking him off and throwing your phone to the other end of the sofa.

The night was chilly, cold and lonely. Despite your gut feeling, despite his fuck-ups you loved the guy and had done for a long while so to sit here facing the truth that he apparently didn't, or at least didn't care enough to treat you with respect was though, harsh and heartbreaking. To think of everything you'd done for him, all the travels and extra work to get school done whilst supporting him. All the sacrafices and this was how he treated you. It was unfair.

Charles were on your step the first thing the morning after, not reading the situation at all because you were tired. Hadn't slept a wink and not in the mood for an altercation before coffee and breakfast.

But Charles were Charles after all. Storming into your condo and sitting firmly in your sofa like he was protesting before you could.

- "Well then, say what you need to say and then get the fuck out" you spat, the early morning not helping your hurt feelings as you opted to sit in the armchair, far away from him, arms folded over your chest.

He looked nervous as hell but he should be, he fucked up after all and this time it was all on him.

"Well... I just.. I'm really sorry, I-I didn't mean to-to"

"To fucking what Charles? You didn't mean to fuck her or you didn't mean to hurt me?"

"Well, both"

"Ah, how classic, is that all you have to say? You didn't mean too?"

Charles took a deep breath, swallowing all the words, accepting his fate because you were right, he'd fucked up big time, so big this was unfixable regardless of how much he wanted it to be fixable.

"Come on then, defend yourself, say what you needed to say so badly.

Charles bit his bottom lip, something you found annoying at the moment, but used to find so hot. His eyes fleeted around the floor, not daring to meet yours.

"I don't know what to say... I fucked up, okay! I did and I don't know what to say about it, It was a mistake but it happened!" You saw red at his raised voice, his voice accusing like you were the one causing problems, like it was your fault because you didn't forgive him and it made you furious.

"Lower your fucking voice" you growled at him, pinning him with your eyes as you spoke slowly but firmly. "You did fuck up, so bad, to the point were there are no return. I said that, but still you wanted to talk to me and explain. I'm giving you the opportuinty to talk so explain, nicely or leave me the fuck alone"

Another sigh left his mouth as he lowered his gaze again, having the heart to atleast look sheepish. He knew you, he loved you, knew you would never forgive him for this, loved you for that, for having that respect for yourself.

"I just wanna know why, Charles. Why did you cheat? What am I lacking? What needed to change? Was it me? Us? Or are you just an selfish fucking bastard, have you been using me this whole time? Talking me into this. Fuck I should have listened to my gut with Ana"

Charles shook his head quickly, his eyes so big he could be misstaken for an alien. "No, no I haven't used you! I just... I don't know, okay! I can't explain it, you weren't there and my mind didn't work right and it happened. I love you, I really do and I haven't lied-" "Don't fucking say you love me!" you spat at him, standing up, over this conversation since he clearly had nothing of value to say.

"But I do! I really do!" he promsied "Fuck off Charles! If you loved me you wouldn't have treated me like this, you wouldn't have held me in this relationship, built my hopes nor let me make the sacrifices I have done for you, for us! You wouldn't have talked to the media about me like I was worth nothing and you for sure wouldn't have cheated on me, multiply times!" you close to shouted, arms out from your sides in defeat.

"I don't know what you thought to achieve coming here today Charles, talk me into another chance? I don't know, I don't care but this is over" Charles met your glossy eyes, his own glazing over as his head dropped. "I am sorry" he whispered, standing up from the couch and walking towards you. If you had the energy you would move away but you felt drained, drained from all energy and all emotions.

His lips met your temple, forehead resting against the side of your head for a moment before he whispered "I'm sorry" and leaving.

Leaving you and your relationship behind.

yourusename

Liked by maxverstappen1, carmenmundt and 78 893 others

yourusername Life lately 😋

View all comments

Y/nstaan You go girl

F1worlds Y/n in her revenge era 😮‍💨

waags Love her sm, she deserves better

carmenmundt Lovee it!

georgerussell63 Y/nnnn

pierregasly 😮‍💨😮‍💨

#f1 imagine #f1 imagines #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #ferrari #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fanfiction #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc oneshot #f1 oneshot #scuderia ferrari

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writtenbymisunderstoodnerds · 3 months

Text

Secret softy (Ashley Sanchez x Reader)

Based on this request

Sorry this took a while to finish, writers block is a pain. Hopefully this is okay and is kinda what you wanted. Thanks for reading and hope you enjoy :)

Warnings: None I think

Words: 2.4k

Three months had passed since I last saw Ashley. We had been together officially for almost four years, but we had been mostly long-distance since the start. With us both being professional athletes, her soccer and me hockey, it didn't leave as much time for visits during on season. We would spend off-season with the other when possible, Ashley had been pretty busy lately, unfortunately. It didn't matter now though, my season was officially over which meant more time with her.

I was trying to enjoy time with Ashley, but I was kind of freaking out. I was going to be going to more of Ashley's camps so we could spend more time together. The only problem was her team didn't seem to like me very much. I knew I could be a bit standoffish when I met new people, but I had tried to be more friendly when I met them. I wasn't actually sure if that's why they didn't like me, it was more an assumption based on past experiences. They were her team, some of her closest friends, honestly, I wanted them to like me. Three years had passed since our first meeting and I didn't know how to change it.

Ashley wrapped her arms around my shoulders, snapping me out of my thoughts, "You okay Y/n/n?"

"I'm fine."

"No, we don't do that. You can be stoic, grumpy, tough, or whatever around everyone else, but not me. If you don't want to talk to me about it, tell me, I won't push. Just don't pretend you're fine when I know you're not."

"I'm sorry. Cuddles?"

Ashley lay down on the couch, letting me lie on top of her, head resting against her neck. It was a lot easier to deal with feelings when wrapped up in the comfort she provided. After a few minutes, all my thoughts just tumble out.

Fingers ran through my hair, making me groan. Ashley always knew what I needed, when I needed it. It's one of the reasons I loved her so much. "My love, it's not that they don't like you. I know what you're going to say, but it's true. They just find you a little bit intimidating, they don't know how to act around you, they don't know how to read you."

"You couldn't have mentioned this like 3 years ago?"

"Don't take that tone with me Y/n. I didn't know how they felt until recently when I told them you'd be around more this season. All you have to do is try to be a bit more open, talk to them, interact with them. A smile every now and then wouldn't hurt either. I know it's not easy for you, but even trying will make a difference."

I sighed, nuzzling my face further into her, "I'm sorry Ash. Okay, I can do that. At least I think. I'm sorry for being grumpy with you. Let me cuddle for a minute then I'll make dinner and we can finish packing, maybe a bath?"

She kissed my forehead, fingers running through my hair, "You weren't grumpy at me, you just let the nerves get the better of you. Don't make a habit of it though. A bath sounds fantastic. I love you grumpy."

I peppered her face with kisses before dragging myself up, "I love you."

---

A smile instantly appeared as arms wrapped around my waist, accompanied by the familiar voice of my girlfriend. "Hi baby."

I turned around, wrapping my arms around her and lifting her up, her legs wrapping around me. My head rest against her chest, enjoying the feeling of her again. Honestly, it hadn't even been that long apart, I had to spend a few weeks at home before joining her. Ashley was my place, my home, my comfort. Anytime we were apart, even for a few days, felt like forever. "I missed you."

Some of Ashley's team were in the lobby hanging back waiting for her. I sent them a quick smile and wave before turning my attention back to Ashley. She pecked my lips, arm wrapping around my shoulder, letting me cuddle against her. Despite what most would think, 90% of the time I was the little spoon and I loved it. "I missed you too. Dinner tonight? We have training this afternoon so maybe 7?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world, I'll find somewhere and sort it."

"Thank you. Also, team bonding tomorrow night if you're up for it. No pressure."

"I'll be there."

All I really wanted to do was spend alone time with Ashley. I decided on a picnic on the beach instead of a restaurant. So while Ashley was at training, I went to the store to pick up some of her favourite snacks, drinks, desserts, and of course flowers. At about 6:30, I ordered Ashley's favourite pizza then headed to the beach to set everything up, then texted her where to meet me. My original plan was to pick her up, but I also wanted everything to be set up before she got there.

Right at 7pm, Ashley came walking along the beach. Dressed in sweats and a hoodie, looking as beautiful as ever. "What's all this?"

"Well, I wanted alone time with you and this is more romantic than a restaurant I think. This is okay right?"

Ashley smiled, lips connecting with mine in a deep kiss, "Y/n/n, anything you do is amazing. I love this and I love you so much. Are those flowers?"

"I love you more. Of course, can't have a romantic dinner without flowers."

After dinner, we ended up lying on the beach watching the stars. Ashley cuddled into my side, leaving light kisses along my neck. "How did I get so lucky with you?"

"I'm the one who got lucky Ash. For some reason, you met my grumpy ass and decided yes that is who I want to be with. You are incredible my love, you fill my life with so much love and happiness. I wouldn't give you up for anything in this world. I love you."

"I love you Y/n/n. I will never get over this side of you. Your grumpy ass is stuck with me for life, just gotta make it official."

I laughed, tapping her nose. It was mostly a joke, Ashley knew that I would propose likely in the next couple of months. I just wanted it to be perfect and not that she knew, but I wanted both her team and her family there. "Soon my love."

----

It had been a few weeks since I started coming to camp with Ashley. Since she told me I was kind of intimidating, I was trying to be more friendly. It wasn't the easiest thing, I had always been more withdrawn and perceived as grumpy or tough. I wanted her team to like me so I was trying. They were important to her so I wanted to at least make an effort to get along with them.

Most of them still kept a bit of a distance from me. They were friendly and included me when I was around, but there was still some unsureness on their part. Emily on the other hand seemed to make it her mission to annoy me as much as possible. In a way, it was nice that she didn't seem to mind my so-called grumpiness. It was also incredibly annoying. Despite that, I had a soft spot for her.

Emily ran at me the moment Ashley untangled herself to go get a drink, managing to jump on me before I could stop her, "Emilyyy, get off."

My hair was messed up before Emily dropped back to the ground, tongue sticking out at me.

"Grump."

"Irritating."

"Yeah yeah whatever, you love it. Some of the girls and I are going shopping, you wanna come?"

"That is the last thing I want to do. Shopping is my nightmare and I already do enough of it with Ash." Emily looked slightly disappointed which made me feel guilty. I also realised this could be a good opportunity to develop my relationship with at least some of them. I couldn't bring myself to go shopping so I suggested the next thing I could think of. "I could meet you for lunch or coffee instead if you guys are doing that."

"It's a date. I'll text you when we're heading for lunch."

Ashley popped up next to me, making me jump slightly at her sudden presence, "You going on a date with someone else?"

Emily wrapped her arm around my shoulder which I instantly tried to push off, but she just wrapped it around tighter. I didn't have the energy for a fight so just let it go. "Yup, I'm stealing your girl."

"You and whoever else you're dragging shopping."

Of course, Ashley got excited at the idea of shopping and decided to go along with them. It wasn't a surprise, Ashley loved shopping and it made Emily go away so I was happy. Now I just had to get her to let me stay back. "Finally. Don't even ask, don't pout, it's not going to work. I'm not coming shopping, you have your girls, I'm going to the gym. Go have fun baby, I'll be there for lunch. I love you."

"Fine, I'll carry my own bags. Just this once. I love you and thank you for trying. By the way, I think Em really likes you."

"She alright I guess. Now go."

Throughout lunch, Ashley was on one side of me and Emily was on the other. Which meant Emily annoyed me while Ashley laughed at me. I admit it helped with the nerves, and stopped me from thinking too much about everything. Emily poked my cheek over and over until I slapped her hand away, poking her cheek instead. I unsuccessfully looked at Ashley for help, her being distracted in conversation.

I groaned, leaning back, trying to be as dramatic as possible, "Why are you hellbent on annoying me? You're like the annoying little sister I never wanted."

"Because I can and you're stuck with me as long as you're with Ash."

"Dammit, that means I'm stuck with you for life."

Emily stopped her annoyance, smiling at me instead, "You going to be with our Ashley for the rest of your life?"

"That's the plan."

A hand landed on my shoulder, running down my arm as lips pressed against my cheek, "I like that plan."

My hand ran along her thigh, kissing her cheek, "I do too."

"Alright, before things get even more gross. How did you two meet? I don't think we ever heard that story."

---

I crawled up the bed, settling myself on top of Ashley, letting out an appreciative groan as her fingers ran through my hair. This trying to be nicer thing was a lot of work. It had meant being more aware of my actions or how I held myself around them. I had never had to put that much thought into myself before. It was honestly exhausting.

"You know I would give up hockey in a heartbeat for you. I miss you so much."

"I know you would, I would do the same, but we both know we would be miserable not doing what we love. What's wrong? You get like this when somethings wrong."

"Ugh, I know. I'm just looking forward to the day when distance isn't part of our relationship. I'm just tired. Putting effort into being nicer and less intimidating is exhausting."

Ashley peppered my cheek with kisses, ending with a soft peck to my lips, "Well you're doing an amazing job Y/n/n. Half the team loves you already and the rest are on the way. You know I appreciate you right? How much you're trying to get along with them."

"You mean the world to me, Ash. Even if it's exhausting or hard, I would do anything for you. This team means a lot to you so it's important to me to get along with them. I'm just sorry it took longer than it should have."

"I'm just happy all the people I love get along."

We spent a while cuddling and making out. There weren't many words spoken, we were just enjoying time together after a couple of crazy days on her end. In our jobs that was the reality, where we barely saw each other all day, only to fall asleep minutes after getting to bed. It left me missing Ashley even though I spent every night cuddled up with her. I missed the awake cuddles, the soft kisses or not-so-soft kisses, the light touches, the comfortable silence, and the random conversations. I could have stayed there all night, but there was team bonding tonight so we had to drag ourselves down to Alyssa and Alex's room.

Everyone was waiting already, fighting over what team bonding was going to be. I made myself comfortable on the floor, leaning back against the wall while Ashley went to join in on the fight. I must have zoned out watching her because I didn't notice Kristie sitting next to me until a hand waved in front of my face.

"Sorry."

"Don't be. I get like that with Sam all the time. You make her incredibly happy, you know that right?"

"All I want is for her to be happy so I will do everything in my power to make sure she is. Seeing Ashley happy, makes me happy."

Kristie pat my shoulder, "That's what I like to hear. Keep her that way."

"Yes ma'am."

Ashley had run back to our room for a deck of cards so I was left alone with her team. Since lunch the other day, I had gotten closer to some of the younger girls, but the veteran players were still a work in progress. I hadn't actually been alone with them pretty much ever. Honestly, I felt kind of awkward, like I needed to clarify that I didn't hate them or apologise for being so standoffish, "Look um I know we got off on the wrong foot-"

Alex interrupted me pretty much instantly, "Hey don't worry about it, we've seen how you are with Ash. You may seem grumpy and mean, but really you're a big softy. You treat Ashley like royalty so we like you. You also put up with Emily so you can't be that bad."

"Yeah well, she does that to me. Look I may seem grumpy or uninterested, but I don't mean to. I really like you guys. Even Emily."

"Hey!"

"Also, before you even give me any sort of talk. Ash is my forever, I plan to marry her one day soon, to spend the rest of my life with her. I would never do anything to jeopardize that. I would hurt myself before I ever dreamt of hurting her."

"Good. Welcome to the family Y/n."

Ashley came back soon after the conversation had ended, settling herself in my lap to whisper in my ear, "You okay?"

"I'm more than good my love."

#uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #woso imagines #woso x reader #uswnt imagines #ashley sanchez #ashley sanchez x reader

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strniohoeee · 4 months

Note

Can I request a Matt x childhood friend reader, like I’m talking since diapers. But like everyone knows they like each other I’m talking EVERYONE 😭. But they’re both oblivious asf.

Oblivion

Pairing: Matt Sturniolo X Female Reader

Synopsis: Y/N could not fathom the idea of being in love with Matt. It’s been shoved down her throat by her mother her whole life, and she’s never agreed. But one night she starts to think, and things take a turn🌙

Warnings⚠️: NONEEEEE, hope you enjoy tho🫂

Song for the imagine: Mind Over Matter- Young the Giant

You know you’re on my mind?

And if the world don’t break

I’ll be shakin it

Cause I’m a young man after all

Being an only child makes some people think you have it hard. You know since there’s no one you can really run to other than your parents. However I’d beg to differ.

I have been friends with the triplets and their brother Justin since I was in a diaper. Our moms being friends since high school really made it nice for us. It was an automatic built in friendship.

We had a lot of play dates since I had no siblings and no immediate family my age. I looked at them as my brothers and Justin as an older brother.

Our childhood was so fun, often going up to the Cape with them for the summer since my parents had to work. I never ever felt alone. Occasionally bored when they went on a vacation my parents didn’t let me go on, but still never a dull moment.

Matt and I got the closest since we shared similar interests, but also we felt like the odd ones out. Most times sticking with each other because Nick and Chris had their own group of friends we didn’t really like to hang around with.

My mothers always told me Matt was my soulmate whether it was romantically or platonically. She always said I gravitated towards him the most since we could crawl. I often cringed at this statement because he was like my brother.

I think I gravitated towards him the most because we liked a lot of the same things, and we were more reserved than Nick and Chris. We’d always get the same gifts because well like I said, we liked the same things. After a while our parents only got us one thing we’d both liked so we could share. Like vinyls for our record players, movies, CDs, and even accessories like hats and even rings.

I didn’t think Matt was my soulmate per say, especially not romantically. I mean sure I had a crush on all three of them at one point, but that’s totally normal. I got over it quickly. I even had a crush on Justin, and he’s 7 years older than us. I mean what’s not to like? He was a cool 17 year old with nice clothes, a cool bike and a new phone. To even be in his presence made me nervous. But like I said I got over those crushes quickly.

By the time we got to high school I’d say I never thought of any of them in a romantic way. They were gross teenage boys and I looked at them as stinky brothers. Matt had a lot of trouble attending school, so we didn’t hang out much till we all got home.

I found myself looking for him in the hallways, at lunch and even next to me when the seat was empty. I felt like I started to like him again, but quickly those feelings died down when I had a fair share of experiences with some boys at our school.

Matt really hated the guys I talked to, and I wasn’t sure why. By senior year we had our first argument over a guy I was dating. He told me he’d hurt me and use me, and I was so blind to it that we got into a fight. I didn’t speak to them that whole summer, and to my surprise that guy was a complete asshole like Matt said he was.

I went to a local college while the triplets focused on their YouTube career. After that summer ended I decided to make up with Matt because I really missed my best friend. I swear best friend breakups are worse than breaking up with a significant other.

We were all 18 and living our best lives as the four again. Spending every second of every day together. I tagged along with them while they filmed and did some things around the city.

I had finally gone home after being at their house for 2 weeks straight. Going from campus to their house and back stopping at my house to shower and change, but that was about it.

“Holy shit she’s home” I heard my dad say as I closed the front door

“I know I know the celebrities back home” I said nodding my head

“Where have you been?” My mom asked laughing

“Well to school and then the triplets and then back to school” I said

“I’m about to tell Mary Lou to let you stay there and charge you rent” my dad said

“Ahaha veryyyy funny” I said sitting down across from them

“You and Matt seem to be doing good” my mother said

“Yeah we’re good now” I replied back

“Sooo did you admit your feelings to him yet?” My mom asked

“Feelings?” I said furrowing my brows

“Yeah…you like the kid and he likes you it’s pretty obvious” my dad said laughing

“I don’t like him, and he doesn’t like me we’re just friends” I said crossing my arms over my chest

“Mmm I don’t know about that he seems like a love sick puppy” my mom said

“Yeah whatever” I said laughing

“Even their mom says it. Just confess already you guys are madly in love” she said

“What? Mom don’t be crazy” I said shaking my head

“You better admit to these feelings soon because that boys following you around like a guy under a love spell” my dad said

“You guys are being insane I’m going to bed” I said rubbing my temples

I went to my room and laid in my bed. My hands crossed over my stomach as I fiddled with my thumbs.

In love? No I couldn’t be.

Matt is my best friend, and that’s all.

Well I mean…..he is really handsome, sweet, and funny even though he says he’s boring which he isn’t. He’s super caring, always putting others above him.

He’s always there for me, he loves watching chick flicks with me and reading sad love stories. He loves my poetry that I write, always helping me make it better…..

I mean I couldn’t like him….right?

But then I started thinking

Friends don’t offer you their jacket if you’re cold, they don’t hold your shoes for you when your feet hurt, they don’t pick you up in the middle of the night because you’re sad, they don’t take you on Long Beach walks at night, or take you out to eat and pay EVERYTIME……..they definitely don’t watch romance movies and read sad romance books when you know they hate it. I mean, could he like me back??

No of course not, don't be irrational Y/N….hes just a very very nice friend is all.

My heart started to race and my breathing quickened. I shot up in my bed and looked into the darkness of my room.

Was I in love with Matthew?

The boy who would wipe his nose on me

The boy who would trip me to make his brothers laugh

The boy who would walk by and steal some food from my plate

The boy who would crack a joke and look at me to see if I’d laugh

The boy who waited for me in the rain when I was fighting with my ex

The boy who made me smile

The boy who made me look for him in everything I did

Holy shit…..

I AM IN LOVE??? WHAT THE FUCK???

I began to panic because of course I had boyfriends, but that was because I was bored. I’ve never loved a guy I dated

But for some reason I am in love with Matthew?

Cursing myself out internally because my mom was correct, and so was Mary Lou.

Suddenly my thoughts stopped when I heard something hit my window.

I jumped up from my bed and slowly walked over to my window when small pebbles hit the glass again causing me to flinch.

I looked out the window and to my surprise I saw Matt standing in my lawn??

Was this a cheesy 80s film? Where’s his boombox? And the stupid sunglasses?

I opened my window

“Matt it’s 1AM what are you doing here?” I said in a whisper

“I was bored” he said back

“You were bored? You could’ve texted me” I said raising an eyebrow

“Well yeah…” he said scratching the back of his neck

“Tell me the real reason you’re here” I said giggling

“I also miss you” he said smiling like a dork

“Miss me? Matt you’ve never said you missed me a day in your life” I said leaning on my palms as I look down at him

“Yeah I know, but I don’t know I just have been seeing you for so long that I guess I just really miss your presence” he said laughing a bit

“I’m loving this little Romeo and Juliet moment we’re having” I said laughing

“Oh shut up you know you missed me too” he said trying to throw pebbles up at me

“Mmm I’m not too sure” I said shrugging my shoulders

“And you left your lip gloss in my room” he said digging in his pocket

“That could be one of your girlfriends” I said laughing

“What? No….there's never girls in my room but you” he said pulling the lip gloss out

“Mmm how do I know you’re not lying” I said

“You’re the only girl I know who has used this same exact strawberry lip gloss since we were in 7th grade” he said showing me the gloss

“Alright you win” I said rolling my eyes

“And I never bring girls home” he said again

“I got the point Matthew just say you’re in love with me already” I said laughing playfully

“Not if the feeling isn’t mutual” he blurted out

“What?” I said shocked

“You heard me… Y/N I have been in love with you since we were 10, and if all my gestures haven’t made it possible. Then me standing out here on your lawn embarrassing myself at trying to say I love you better work. If I have to scream it to the world I will” he said swallowing thickly

“I….I” I could not form a sentence

“I’m sorry….this was wrong oh so wrong” he said shaking his head and turning around

I backed away from the window and ran down the steps to my front door.

I swung the door open and walked out and saw Matt walking away back to his car.

“Matthew! Don’t go” I said loudly

He turned around and looked at me stopping in his tracks

“I have been ignoring this feeling for far too long. Everyone around me is telling me how I feel and how you feel about me. I was so scared to open my eyes and realize that you may have been the one for me since forever. I never sat down and thought about it until tonight. When I replayed many interactions in my head. And I couldn’t wrap my head around why I’ve never loved any of my past boyfriends, and that’s because Matthew I’m so madly in love with you” I said breathing heavily

Matt walked over to me and crashed our lips together. I won’t lie, I have kissed plenty of guys before, but I’ve never enjoyed the kisses. I’ve never gotten butterflies or felt my face flush with heat. It had always been matt and it took me so long to realize.

His lips disconnected from mine as his thumb ran over my cheek staring into my eyes.

“I always wondered how many more time I had to watch The Notebook with you before you realized I was so in love” he said laughing

“Oh shut up” I said rolling my eyes and laughing

“God I’m just so in love with you” he said looking at me

I began to blush and looked away

“Will you be my girlfriend?” He suddenly asked me

My eyes snapped to his and my heart began to beat faster

“Yes Matt, yes I will” I said smiling

He smiled at this too and crashed our lips together once more.

That night I snuck Matt into my bedroom, and had a feeling that wouldn’t be the last time I’d do that.

We spent the night watching The Notebook and talking while we cuddled into each other's arms eventually falling asleep.

How could we both be so oblivious this whole time?

The End

I hope you guys enjoyed this one🥹🤞🏽. I’m at 1,410 followers which is MADNESS?? Like what???? I love yall so freaking much🥺🖤🖤

-J💅🏽

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets imagines #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo imagines #matthew sturniolo imagines

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pink-sparkly-witch · 5 months

Text

Girls Night

Summary: Jensen’s girlfriend comes home a bit drunk after a girls night and tries to seduce him.

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Female Reader

Warnings: Fluff, implied sexy times to come.

Words: 0.7k

A/N: I’m so proud that I set out to drabble and succeeded! 🥳 I’m a wordy bitch, so usually, when I set out to drabble, I fail epically 😅 All mistakes are my own.

Consider reblogging to spread this far and wide around this Hellsite or leaving a comment. It really does fuel a creative’s muse. If you’re too shy or too cool for people to know you read fanfic and don’t want it showing on your blog, you can submit an anonymous ask or drop me a DM. 💖

My Masterlist AO3 Ko-Fi

“It’s been far too long since we last did this!” you declare, slamming another empty shot glass onto the wooden table.

“I know! And we say this every time, but we shouldn’t leave it so long next time,” Fiona shivers violently at the aftertaste of the tequila.

“Well,” Robin smirks, “if y’all put hoes before bros every now and then, we’d see each other a lot more often!”

“Excuse you,” you feign outrage. “If I remember right, you,” you point your finger for good measure, “are the one who didn’t come last time so you could ‘Netflix and Chill’ with Scott. I hadn’t seen Jensen in six weeks, and I came!”

“Oh, I came, alright!” Robin grins when you and your closest friends descend into laughter.

The familiar intro of Lionel Richie’s “Dancing on the Ceiling” begins, and you and the girls quickly make your way onto the dance floor.

You spend the rest of the night cutting your best moves, singing at the top of your lungs and drinking tequila.

Walking into the hallway with your heels in your hand, you try to be as quiet as possible. Jensen has been working hard at the brewery and had been learning a script for a movie that starts shooting next week, so you knew he was likely sleeping at this late hour.

You carefully hold onto the handrail and climb the stairs, shushing your shoes every time the heel hits the wooden rail.

Once at the top of the stairs, you frown when you see the bedroom light still on. You walk with heavy feet towards the door, peeking your head through the gap.

“Hey, baby,” Jensen smiles as he looks up at you. “Did you have a good time?”

“It was the best! We drank and talked and danced and drank. Did I already say that part? I think I already said that part. Anyway, we danced and sang. My throat will hurt tomorrow,” you stumble over to the bathroom and drop your shoes haphazardly on the floor. “But it was worth it,” you giggle.

“I’m glad,” Jensen grins. He always says you’re adorable when you’re drunk. Always so happy and carefree.

“What are you doing still up?” you ask.

“Gotta learn this script, baby. I’ve put it off too long,” he rubs at his tired eyes and smiles wide as you leave the bathroom in your underwear. “What are you doing, sweetheart?”

You climb on the bed—surprisingly gracefully, given your drunken state—and crawl up Jensen’s body. Straddling his waist, you run your hands under his shirt and up his stomach and grin as you feel his muscles twitch under your touch.

“Been thinking about you all night, Jensen. How much I wanted to be here with you, how you make me feel. I want you so bad, baby.”

“As much as I wanna say yes, baby girl, you’re too drunk,” Jensen says as his hands slide up your thighs.

“I’m not that drunk,” you pout more than complain.

“Even so, I think it’s best we just cuddle,” Jensen soothes.

“Ugh, fine!” you huff, throwing yourself off his lap and onto the bed. “But I want your A-game tomorrow!”

“When have I ever not brought my A-game?” Jensen laughs as you pull at the bed covers and ungracefully try to get into bed.

“Uhm, when I wore that dress to the 300th episode party? You barely lasted ten seconds!” you laugh.

“Excuse me! You looked really fucking hot that night! You knew I’d been ready for you since you’d stepped out of the hotel bathroom wearing that thing! And I made it up to you!”

“Yeah, you did!” you giggle. “Alright,” you say as you finally tuck yourself under the duvet. “What about the thirty second fumble on Jared’s boat?”

“Really? You really want me to explain to you how incredibly sexy it was rubbing sun tan lotion all over you and the idea that anyone could have seen me fucking you that day?”

“Okay, I’ll give you that one too,” you yawn and lie down, shuffling into his side and twisting your legs around his. “Just promise me you’ll bring you’re A-game in the morning.”

Snuggling further into him, you lay your head on his chest and your hand on his collarbone. Jensen wraps an arm around your shoulders and pushes the script he was reading to the floor.

“I promise. Good night, baby, I love you,” he chuckles softly as the heavy breathing tells him you’ve fallen asleep.

“Not that drunk, my ass!” he whispers as he kisses your head and turns out the bedside lamp.

Tags: @akshi8278 @ashbatz @candy-coated-misery0731 @chriszgirl92 @deans-baby-momma @deans-spinster-witch @deansbbyx @deanwanddamons @duncanhillscoffeecups @foxyjwls007 @giggles1026 @globetrotter28 @hobby27 @hoboal87 @impala67rollingthroughtown @iprobablyshipit91 @jackles010378 @jamerlynn @jc-winchester @k-slla @kazsrm67 @kmc1989 @lacilou @ladysparkles78 @leigh70 @lyarr24 @michecolegate @mrsjenniferwinchester @nancymcl @negans-lucille-tblr @perpetualabsurdity @roseblue373 @sandlee44 @sexyvixen7 @snackles87 @spnwoman @stixnstripesworld @stoneyggirl2 @suckitands33 @synmorite @tristanrosspada-ackles @twinkleinadiamondsky @waters-2567 @winchestergirl1720

#girls night #december drabbles #jensen ackles x female!reader #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x y/n #jensen ackles fanfic #jensen ackles rpf #jensen ackles

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onceuponaoneshotfanfic · 10 months

Text

You Are In Love (Superstar Chapter 10)

You kiss on sidewalks

You fight and you talk

One night he wakes

Strange look on his face

Pauses, then says

You're my best friend

And you knew what it was

He is in love

Roy and the Reader settle into their life together.

Roy Kent x Reader

9.7k words

Warnings: Language, allusions to smutty things, adults drinking, teeny tiny talk about insecurities, some of the most self-indulgent and fluffy writing I have ever done in my entire life

Author's note: I'm feeling really emotional about posting this final chapter, and I just really want to say THANK YOU. This story really helped get me out of a writing slump, and your love & support has been a huge part of that. I've loved spending so much time with these characters, but more than that, I loved getting to share this story with you. From the bottom of my heart, THANK YOU. I hope you enjoy all this sugary sweet fluff!

Roy stared at me in utter disgust, as if I had just told him I was becoming a Man City supporter or hated The Sound of Music. “That is the fucking worst combination of words in the history of the fucking world.”

I rolled my eyes at his dramatics. “Brunch with Keeley and Jamie is not torture, Roy.”

“To me it is,” he growled, pulling back the blankets and crawling into bed.

“Come on. It’ll be fun. Keeley’s one of my closest girlfriends, and Jamie’s your best friend,” I pointed out as I followed suit, pulling the blankets over us.

Roy let out a deep groan. “Why the fuck does everyone keep fucking saying that?” He turned to face me, propping himself up on his elbow. “I want to really, actually, literally murder him. I fantasize about it almost as much as I fantasize about you. How the fuck is that friendship?”

I shrugged and kissed the tip of his nose. “Everyone has their own love language. And violence towards Jamie Tartt is yours.”

“Want to know my love language when it comes to you?” he asked suggestively, his hand snaking its way under the t-shirt I wore. “I’m fucking fluent.”

“I’d prefer if your love language was going to brunch,” I teased, giving him a playful shove.

He grunted, annoyed at my lack of response to his flirting. “Fine. But I’m drinking as many fucking mimosas as I want.”

The next morning, Roy begrudgingly sat at a patio table across from Jamie, listening to Keeley and I gossip and giggle over mimosas and a ridiculous amount of food. Suddenly, she lit up.

“Oh! Roy, there was something I wanted to run by you.” She took his grunt as the signal to continue. “So, with the Greyhounds doing so well, there’ve been lots of requests for interviews and stuff, y’know? And there’s this hot new talk show, hosted by…” She took a quick look at her mobile. “Ryley Sharp. Two Ys. And his people reached out to see if they could get a gaffer to come on for a chat.” She shrugged. “Would you be interested?”

Roy narrowed his eyes and downed the mimosa in front of him. “Why me? Doesn’t this seem more Ted’s kind of shit?”

Keeley shifted, shooting Jamie a glance. Jamie nodded encouragingly; he’d clearly heard this whole pitch already. “I could ask Ted, but…” She thought a moment. “I mean, you’re a household name, so it would be very good ratings. And, as a friend, I was thinking it would be a good opportunity for you to…” She trailed off, her eyes flickering to me.

“For me to do what exactly?” Curiosity floated behind his stony expression.

“To control your own narrative,” Keeley finally said. When she saw the confusion on both our faces, she continued. “Listen, I know you hate the media-”

“I wish they’d all die in a fiery explosion and then have all their ashes fed to feral hogs who eat their own shit so there’s just an endless cycle of their ashes being eaten and shit out for all eternity,” Roy confirmed.

Keeley nodded slowly, glancing at me as if to ask ‘This is your boyfriend?’ “Right. But think about it this way. You’re a very public figure, Roy. And now that the two of you are done pretending you’re capable of hiding your relationship, you’re going to be going out in public together. And you are going to be photographed together. And your name-” She turned to me. “-is going to become known as well. And I assume none of us want a repeat of… you know what.”

A snort flew out of Jamie’s nose. “Boy-toy Roy,” he cheeked.

Roy bared his teeth. “I have my taxidermist on speed-dial.”

“Boys,” I scolded. “Keeley, please continue.”

“Thank you,” she hummed. “Now, Roy, if you go on this show, you’ll talk about Richmond of course. All about how well they’re doing, how great Ted is, how you see yourself in the lads, that sort of thing. And then, Ryley’ll ask you about yourself. Particularly…” She gestured towards me. “This way you get to decide what people know about you. No room for speculation from the press, no room for making shit up to sell a magazine. Just ‘I’m Roy Kent, I’m in a very happy relationship with the world’s fittest woman, and we have an adorable dog’.” She offered up a hopeful smile. “What d’you think?”

All three of us looked at Roy expectantly. He shoved a piece of fruit into his mouth, then reached over and grabbed my mimosa and gulped it down.

“Tell me about this Ryley Sharp prick,” he finally muttered, taking my hand under the table.

Keeley perked up and gestured to a passing waiter to bring more drinks. “He’s not too bad actually. I’ve watched his show before. Bit of an airhead, but very sweet. And I’ve asked around to see what people have to say about him. Not a bad word from anyone. He’s absolutely not the gotcha kind of guy. He’ll ask you lots of easy, soft questions, make you look good, give you the opportunity to gush about this one here-” She winked at me. “-and he won’t go into anything you don’t want to go into.”

Roy grunted, tapping the table. He glanced at me. “What d’you think?” he asked earnestly.

I looked back at him. His eyes were unsure, eyebrows all scrunched. He’ll do whatever I ask, I realized. He wanted to make me happy, to help me feel safe and secure. And fuck, I wanted to do the same for him.

“I think,” I started carefully. “I think you should do what you want. Keeley makes some really good points about getting out in front of things and not giving the media room to speculate, but if it’s going to kill you, don’t do it.” I squeezed his hand. “I’ll support whatever you decide.”

“Hmmf.” He looked my face over, thoughtfulness in his expression. “Fuck it.” He looked at Keeley. “I’ll do it, but I’m not saying nice things about that prat.” He nodded at Jamie.

Keeley squealed, ignoring the outraged look on her boyfriend’s pretty face. “Ahh! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She grabbed her phone and began typing rapidly. “I’ll pop by tomorrow with all the details. And a backstage pass for you,” she added, winking at me. “And don’t you worry, Roy, I’ll be there the whole time to make sure it goes well, I promise.”

He nodded curtly. “Yeah, well.” He cleared his throat. “I can still swear and shit, yeah?”

I smiled watching Roy through the mirror as the makeup woman attempted to powder his face. He was wearing his signature scowl, along with a charcoal suit that hugged him beautifully. At Keeley’s insistence and my prodding, he had gotten a haircut and tidied his beard. All in all, he managed to look even better than he did on any of my old posters.

I really get to go home with this man, I thought with a giggle as I nestled further into the couch I shared with Keeley in the greenroom. Noticing the giddy way I was watching him, he met my eyes in the mirror and cracked a smile.

“No, you’re not putting makeup on me when we get home,” he warned.

“Spoilsport,” I teased as the door opened and a production assistant entered to let Roy know that he would be on after the commercial break, which meant it was time for all of us to leave the greenroom.

Keeley linked her arm through mine as another assistant led us to a pair of audience seats that had been reserved for us to watch the interview. “I made sure they told Roy exactly where we’re sitting,” Keeley assured me as we settled in.

Sure enough, as soon as Roy walked out onto the set to thunderous applause, his gaze found mine. I wondered if the viewers at home would also notice the tiny twitch of his mouth when our eyes locked. He plopped down into the stylish chair by Ryley Sharp’s desk.

We had gotten to meet Ryley Sharp before the show, and Keeley had been right about him; sweet and a bit of an airhead, in the best possible way. He was very excited to have Roy on the show and was thrilled to know I’d be sitting out in the audience with Keeley. He was completely onboard with everything Keeley had discussed with us and thought that Roy wanting to chat about me during the interview was simply “adorable”.

Keeley gripped my hand as Roy was interviewed. I was hugely impressed; he was almost charming and nearly friendly, he actually answered questions, and he even managed to keep his “fucks” to a minimum. It was the best interview I’d ever seen him do, and I’d probably watched every single one he’d done in his entire career. Multiple times.

My cheeks hurt from smiling so much as I listened to the audience laugh at some cheeky comment he made about Ted.

Ryley Sharp shifted in his seat, running a hand through his bleached hair. “Alright, so it looks like things are going well for you, Roy. Happily retired from a massively successful career, coaching Richmond to one of the great underdog stories of our time. What about in your personal life?” He raised his eyebrows. “Got a girl?”

Roy shifted in his seat, clearing his throat. “I actually do,” he admitted, his eyes flicking in my direction as the studio audience ooohed.

“Roy Kent, are you squirming?” Ryley Sharp humorously gasped, leaning forward.

“Do I have to answer that?” Roy asked, a teasing edge in his voice.

Ryley Sharp shook his head. “Not if you agree to tell us about this girl of yours..”

Roy nodded. “Sounds like a deal to me.” He gave a small cough. “She’s, uh, she’s amazing, yeah. We work at Richmond together and, I dunno, we clicked. Decided to give it a go, and so far, so good.”

“Descriptive as always,” Ryley Sharp teased, eliciting some light chuckles from the audience. “Mind if we do some lightning-round questions to learn more?”

Roy nodded firmly. “Fuck it, let’s do it.”

Ryley Sharp cleared his throat. “She like football?”

“Loves it.”

“Fan of yours?”

A smirk graced Roy’s face. “Huge.”

“Her parents like you?”

“I like to think so.”

“She smart?”

“Brilliant.”

“Funny?”

Roy bobbled his head. “She thinks she is.” He winked in my direction as the audience chuckled.

Ryley Sharp’s friendly smile widened. “She pretty?”

“Fucking gorgeous.”

“And am I to understand…” Ryley Sharp perked up a little. “She’s here in our studio audience?”

Sharp had come up with this idea, explaining that the audience would find it charming as hell. Keeley had left it completely up to us whether we wanted to go along with it, and I’d left it up to Roy, who surprised us all with his yes. My heart skipped a beat when I saw Roy sit up straight and turn his gaze back to me.

“Um, yeah, yeah she’s here.” He gave a little nod in my direction. “Sitting right over there with our friend Keeley.”

Sharp waved to someone off-stage. “Could we get a mic out there?” he called.

In an instant, the same production assistant from earlier was standing next to my seat, holding a microphone. Roy gave me a thumbs up as Ryley Sharp turned his attention to me.

“Why don’t you stand up, love?” he asked as the house lights came on and a camera turned my way.

Keeley pushed me to my feet as my face burned. I smiled and gave Roy a little wave as the production assistant handed me the mic. “Hi,” I said timidly, suddenly hating the sound of my own voice.

Roy smiled, a full smile, and nodded back. “Hey,” he called tenderly. Even from my seat, I could see his eyes were full of affection.

Ryley Sharp cleared his throat playfully. “Alright, lovebirds, back to the interview.” He focused on me. “So, Roy Kent’s girl, eh?” I nodded, suddenly bashful. “What’s it like dating this guy, hmm?”

I lifted the microphone to my face. “Lovely, actually. He’s a pretty good one.” The wink Roy sent me bolstered my confidence.

“Alright, I’m sure all the hardcore football fans out there are dying to know.” Sharp looked at me with mock seriousness. “What is the most romantic thing Roy Kent has ever done?”

My eyes drifted from Ryley to Roy who raised his eyebrows at me. He spoke up. “It’s Paris, innit?”

I nodded, biting back a grin. “Can I tell them about it?”

Roy sat back in his seat and shrugged, as if it were totally normal for us to have a conversation on national television. “Why the fuck not?”

I turned my attention back to Sharp. “Um, well Richmond had gone to Paris for a friendly. And after the match, Roy here surprised me by taking me to the Louvre.” More ooohs from the audience. “After hours,” I added cheekily, garnering more hooting. “And we had a lovely time. Dinner and champagne, the kind of thing only a retired footballer can afford to do.”

Sharp joined in the audience’s chuckles. “Goodness. If that’s a date, I can’t wait to see what his proposal’ll look like!”

My cheeks burned, but I tried to maintain my composure. “Yeah, well, you and my mother have something in common then,” I joked, earning a laugh from the whole room- most especially Roy, who was shaking his head and looking at me like I was the most wonderful, special thing he’d ever seen in his life.

Ryley Sharp asked me a couple more questions- about Oscar and about what Roy and I liked to do when we weren’t at work- before wrapping it up. “Ladies and gentlemen, please give it up for Roy Kent and his lovely girlfriend!”

As the audience gave a hearty round of applause, I handed the microphone back to the assistant and looked at Roy, who was still staring at me. I blew him a kiss, and he looked down, clearly blushing. He turned back to Sharp, shaking his hand and looking uncharacteristically cheerful.

After the show wrapped, Keeley and I made our way back to the greenroom, where Roy was chatting with Ryley Sharp. He offered me a smirk when he saw me and placed a kiss on my forehead.

“You were fucking brilliant,” he murmured in my ear.

Ryley Sharp reached out and shook my hand. “How’d it feel?”

I cleared my throat. “It was fun,” I admitted. “But not something I could do every day. Don’t know how you all live with being famous.”

Keeley giggled and nudged me. “Oh, so you don’t want me to set you up with a modeling contract then?”

“Hell no,” I laughed. “Being Roy Kent’s girl is more than enough attention for me.”

Life became predictable. Easy. Routine. And I loved every moment of it.

We’d spend our days at Nelson Road, with Roy in training and me doing my best to bring some semblance of order to the coaching staff, eating lunch together almost every day. Our evenings were often spent with Phoebe and Oscar, making dinner together, playing, and watching movies until Roy’s sister came for pickup. Nearly every night was spent together, either at his place or mine, and our mornings were spent waking up in each other’s arms. On weekends we were with the Greyhounds, or taking Phoebe on outings, or meeting up with friends, or just sitting on the couch and reading.

From time to time our picture would end up online or in a magazine: playing at the park with Oscar, or sharing an embrace after a Richmond victory, or getting drinks with Keeley and Jamie. More often than not, the picture featured a blurred gesture on Roy’s part, but he could always be counted on to point out how stunning he thought I looked in the photos.

Amidst this domestic bliss- or “the boring life of dating an old geezer”, as Roy called it- was one thrilling constant: Richmond was still winning. They’d bounced around the top four spots over the course of the season, but there was actual expectation for them. More than one pundit even selected them as their pick to win the “whole enchilada”, as Ted and Dani loved to say in unison. Things came down, in true dramatic fashion, to the last match of the season, which would be against Arsenal.

Roy had already gone running with Jamie and was showered and set to go by the time I woke up, so he sat on the bed with Oscar and read as I got myself ready. He not-so-stealthily watched me over the top of his book as I dug through the half of the closet I was slowly taking up and cleared his throat.

“Wear the sweater,” he mumbled, absently turning the page of his book.

I turned to him. “Hmm?”

He glanced up at me again. “The fucking lucky sweater,” he repeated. “We could use all the fucking help we can get. Wear it.”

“Oh.” I looked at the sweater that was always in his closet. I wore it at home all the time, wore it out for errands occasionally, but had never worn it to a match. It felt a little silly, and I didn’t feel the need to give anyone fodder to tease us with. I turned back to Roy, who had set his book down by now. “Won’t I look a bit funny, wearing your name with you there in the dugout next to me?"

Roy sat up, his face soft. “I mean, people should get used to seeing you wearing my name.” He paused, tilting his head. “Right?”

I felt myself blush. It wasn’t as if I hadn’t thought about marrying Roy someday; I’d been thinking of that pretty much since I hit puberty. And the topic had been one that our friends and colleagues teased about from time to time. And it was something I felt myself wondering about more and more lately.

“Oi.” Roy was grinning at me, clearly amused by my silence. “Don’t worry, I’m not fucking proposing after the match or anything like that.” He stood up and came over to where I was, wrapping his arms around me. “I mean, someday, sure. But not today.” He kissed my forehead. “Alright with you?”

Roy Kent wants to marry me someday. Roy Kent wants to marry me. Roy Kent wants to fucking marry me.

I gave an embarrassed laugh and returned his hug, pretending that he hadn’t just filled my heart with more love than I knew how to carry. “Alright. I’ll wear the fucking sweater then.”

Clad in my dark blue sweater, KENT screaming across the back in white lettering, I stood by the coaches all game long, screaming and cheering louder than usual. Rebecca had been lovely enough to get my family amazing seats, and I swore I could hear my father’s shouts above the rest of the crowd. I tore my eyes away from the gameplay to check the clock, which was fast approaching the 100th minute. By some incredible miracle, we were up 2-1 and just needed the ref to blow the fucking whistle.

As we watched the boys do all they could to keep possession of the ball and push towards Arsenal’s goal, I felt Roy grip my hand tightly and heard him muttering “Come on, fuck, come on,” under his breath non-stop.

Fweet fweet fweeeeeeeeeet!

“Holy fuck!” At the sound of the final whistle, Roy picked me up and spun me around, squeezing me so tight I swore I’d have bruises the next day. Everyone from the dugout raced onto the pitch, where the team was screaming their heads off, jumping on each other like children.

I spent God knows how long on that field, hugging sweaty men and kissing their faces, shouting out expressions of pride over the roar of the fans who were forcing their way onto the pitch. Roy finally pulled me back to himself with urgency, as if he couldn’t bear to be far from me for long.

“Are you fucking crying?” There was a loving edge of teasing in his voice as his thumb swiped across my cheek, which I hadn’t even realized was wet.

I nodded, not caring that I was full grown woman weeping over a football match. “Fuck yeah I am,” I confirmed. “They fucking did it, Roy.”

He shook his head and wiped away more of my tears. “We fucking did it. You’re part of this team. Don’t you ever fucking forget that.” He kissed my forehead, my cheeks, my nose, my chin, every square inch of my face. “I love you,” he mumbled as his mouth finally found mine.

“Love you too,” I managed to huff out between kisses that were slowly becoming heated as the boys began shouting the Richmond chant at the top of their lungs and formed a conga line. “Watch it, or Jamie’s gonna give you another warning about keeping things family-friendly.”

“Fuck it. If they wanna broadcast this, we might as well give ’em something worthwhile.” With that, he dipped me backwards, latching his lips to mine in a way that could only be described as cinematic.

That kiss was as if he’d managed to peer into every girlhood fantasy of mine and decided it wasn’t enough. As if he’d taken every great rom-com kiss and wanted to show them how it was done. I knew my girlfriends were sitting in a pub, cackling with glee about how I had twenty-eight posters of this man in my childhood bedroom and was now snogging him on national television. I knew my parents were in the stands, my mum beaming with joy at seeing me so in love, my dad playfully grumbling and asking if Roy really had to kiss her like that, but unable to help the smile on his own face. I knew we’d have to endure lots of teasing at the team celebration, with the guys egging Roy on to kiss me like that again, and with Roy giving in after having just the right amount of shots that would make him forget to be grumpy. And I knew I’d be thinking about this particular kiss for a very, very long time.

As I touched his face, wondering how long we could get away with this embrace before we crossed over into truly insufferable, my mind drifted back to our conversation that morning, and an obvious realization hit me: I want to kiss Roy Kent for the rest of my life.

Rebecca’s email took me off guard. It was a week since the Arsenal match, and Roy was outside putting our suitcases in the car while I double checked the reservations for the weekend holiday we’d planned to celebrate the end of the season. It was supposed to be a simple, easy weekend, full of food and drinks, relaxing, reading, maybe a little sightseeing if I could convince Roy, and no football whatsoever. Just us, a normal couple. But now Rebecca’s email would be looming over my head the whole time.

Roy noticed. Of course he noticed, he noticed everything when it came to me. We had stopped to have lunch and for once, I was quiet. He tilted his head at me as I poked at my food.

“Alright. What the fuck is wrong?”

I looked up at him, the concern in his eyes contrasting with the harsh way he spoke. “Nothin’,” I lied.

He shook his head. “Come off it. I’m not going to spend my first chance to actually relax in months with you not talking to me. You’ve got me too used to all your fucking prattling.” He reached out and took my free hand as his voice softened. “Come on. We’re supposed to tell each other things. Fucking vulnerable, remember?”

Despite myself, I smiled at our favorite word. “I, um, got an email from Rebecca this morning.” I squirmed, not quite looking at Roy.

“Doesn’t she know it’s your fucking break?” he teased, clearly trying to help me relax. “Fuck does she want?”

I set my fork down and took a deep breath before I spoke at hyper speed. “Rebecca wants to make me the Assistant to the Director of Football Operations. Working directly under Higgins. She says they both were very impressed with everything I did this season, and they want to see what I can do with more responsibility. And Higgins wants more time with his family, and he and I get along so well already, and it would be a really great opportunity-”

“I know.”

His suddenness caught me off-guard. “What d’you mean you know?”

He bobbled his head in that nervous manner of his, half-smile playing on his lips. “Rebecca and Higgins came to the gaffers before the Arsenal match and asked what we’d think of the move.”

My stomach fluttered as I stared at him. Fuck, I should have ordered a drink.“And what did you tell her?”

Roy sipped the beer he’d been smart enough to order. “Told her she could fuck right off if she thought she could move you out of our office.” He smirked and shrugged. “And that you completely fucking deserve it.” He leaned forward earnestly. “You’re too fucking good to stay down there with us, babe. You should be running the whole fucking club, not just bossing around me and Ted and Beard. You are going to be amazing. I’ll fucking manage to figure out how to get to interviews and press conferences on time, I promise.”

Tears I didn’t realize had formed threatened to fall when I saw the excitement and pride glowing on his face. “Just put a fucking reminder on your phone, you idiot,” I managed to choke out.

“See, it’s that loving, patient guidance I’m going to miss when you’re upstairs plotting your hostile takeover of the football world.” Roy lifted my hand to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to my knuckles. “Almost as much as I’ll miss seeing your gorgeous face every time I walk into our office.” He squeezed my hand. “Take the fucking job.”

“It’s a pretty great job,” I murmured, gazing at our hands. “And I mean, who knows, maybe someday I could have Higgins’s post.”

Roy’s smile widened when he saw me seriously considering the position. “Ruthless woman. I’ll let Higgins know you’re coming for his job.”

He earned a laugh from me. “We’ll see how I like being his assistant first,” I assured Roy. I squeezed his hand, thinking. “I’m just really going to miss sharing an office with you, y’know?”

He shrugged. “Guess we gotta figure out a way to make up for all that lost time.” He paused, taking a sip of his beer as his eyes suddenly became shifty. “Say, what do you think of that flat of yours?”

I almost choked on the sudden shift in the conversation. “My flat? It’s fine. I like it well enough.”

Roy’s face became serious. “But d’you really like it? Because I’d be willing to move in, but fucking Oscar’s spoiled and likes having a yard. I really think he’d prefer it if you moved in with us.” He licked his lips anxiously. “I’d fucking like it too.”

Roy wants to live together. Roy wants to live together. Roy wants to live together. “You want me to move in with you?” I squeaked, wondering, as I often did, when I would wake up from the dream I was living in.

“You already have your own key. You’re there even more than your own flat. Half your shit is already in my closet. I fucking hate it when you’re not there. Besides, you can’t fucking cook, so I’d like to make sure you’re well-fed.” He shrugged. “D’you want to?”

He was doing that thing. That thing where he acted like something was insignificant and casual, like it didn’t matter too much, when underneath he was a ball of nerves, anxiously waiting for an answer. It was a defense mechanism, for sure. A way to make sure people knew that whatever they said didn’t matter to Roy, even though I knew that what I said mattered to him very much. It was, in my opinion, one of the most adorable and attractive things he did.

I didn’t make him sit in that nervousness for long. “Yeah. Yes. Definitely.” My smile was probably the dopiest, silliest one I’d ever worn. “I’d love to.”

“You sure? You don’t seem too thrilled.” Roy grinned and leaned back in his seat, staring at me for a moment. “Look at you. Kickass new job, moving in with your dishy boyfriend. Your life fucking rocks.”

“I’m sorry, did you just call yourself dishy?” I snorted.

He cleared his throat, cheeks tinted pink. “Fucking saw someone call me that on Twitter the other day. Figured my girlfriend would agree.”

I shook my head and laughed. “God, what’re you going to do without me in the office telling you when you sound like an absolute wanker?”

The off-season involved a lot of moving on my part. First, I had to pack up my entire flat and move everything into Roy’s house; luckily, Roy was right when he said that half of my things were already at his place. He’d managed to wrangle the players who weren’t away on holiday to help us move all the boxes one afternoon, rewarding them with pizza and beer, which somehow evolved into a karaoke party in Roy’s- our- living room, with Oscar jumping from person to person, just waiting for someone to drop a slice of pizza.

It was well past midnight by the time everyone left; I assumed Roy would want to go straight to sleep after the exhausting day we’d had. Instead, he dragged me into the kitchen once I’d changed into an old Sunderland shirt of his.

“Didn’t you have enough pizza already?” I asked, stifling a yawn. “’m ready for bed.”

“Just have one thing to do first,” he mumbled, rummaging through the fridge. “Grab a couple of glasses from the bar, yeah?”

Rolling my eyes, I did as I was told, picking up a pair of wine glasses that Keeley had gifted us in honor of the move. When I brought them back to Roy, I stopped in my tracks.

On the counter was a chilled bottle of champagne and a tiny cake, just perfect for two. Roy leaned on the counter, eyeing me carefully, a smirk playing on his lips.

“What’s all this then?” I breathed, blinking from either the tiredness or the surprise. Maybe both.

Roy shrugged, picking up the bottle. “Fucking celebrating of course.” He opened the bottle with ease, but not without champagne starting to flow out. “Shit, bring me the glasses,” he laughed, trying to avoid spilling everywhere.

The kitchen filled with sleepy giggles as we managed to get most of the champagne into the glasses rather than on the countertop. Once we’d finally gotten our glasses filled properly, I sat in my usual spot, with Roy opting to stand next to me, gazing at me softly. He held up his glass.

“Welcome home,” he murmured, tapping his glass to mine with a small clink.

My cheeks warmed as I sipped my champagne, staring at Roy as he did the same. Maybe it was the late hour and my tiredness, but it didn’t feel real, moving in with Roy. And it wasn’t even because it was Roy freaking Kent; rather, it was because I found it hard to believe anyone was capable of feeling the intense love that burned in my chest as Roy handed me a fork and slid the little cake towards me.

We ate and drank in a comfortable silence, the only sounds being the clinking of forks against the plate and Oscar pattering around and our soft chuckles every time our eyes met. After Roy put everything in the sink, mumbling something about taking care of the dishes in the morning, he turned to me, sleepy smile on his face.

“Oi, you brought the blanket, right?”

I had this one particular blanket that had always laid on my couch in my flat. My gran had made it, and it was, without a doubt, the warmest, comfiest blanket in the universe. Roy had gotten in the habit of stealing it from the first time he’d come over to watch The Sound of Music and often brought it to bed when he spent the night. Honestly, there was a very real chance he asked me to move in just so he could have the blanket at his house.

“Um, yeah, it’s one of these boxes somewhere…” I ran my fingers through my hair, eyeing the ridiculous number of cardboard boxes that now decorated Roy’s- our- house.

Before I could suggest he waited until the morning to look for it, he had already walked over to one of the boxes and started digging. Since he clearly was not going to bed until he found it, I figured I might as well do the dishes. I was rinsing the glasses we’d drank champagne out of when I heard-

“What the absolute fuck is this?”

When I turned around, there were two Roy Kents in the doorway. One was my boyfriend, shirtless and ready for bed, eyebrows raised higher than I’d ever seen them, his mouth wide open in amusement, laughter bursting out of him. The other was cardboard, clad in his Richmond uniform and wearing a scowl.

“Oh fuck!” I nearly dropped the glass I was holding. “You weren’t- that box was supposed to go to my mum’s- shit!” I was choking on embarrassment as my face turned redder than a tomato.

In all the years I’d spent watching him on television and the countless hours I’d now spent in his presence, I had never heard Roy Kent laugh so damn much. He was doubled over with laughter, wiping away tears and making so much noise he woke up Oscar.

I turned off the sink and stormed over, folding the cardboard cutout back up and tossing it on top of the box it had come out of. With a huff, I turned to Roy, who was finally starting to breathe again.

“It was a gag gift from my dad for my birthday a few years ago,” I mumbled, not looking at his smug face. “Kept it because my mates and I thought it was funny to bring out when we watched matches at my place. I was going to take it to my mum’s, figured one of these days I’d sort through all my… football things and throw some stuff out and decide what to do with the rest.”

Seeing the humiliation on my face, Roy sobered up and grabbed my shoulders. “C’mere,” he chuckled, tugging me close to himself. “Please tell me you were not going to throw that thing away.”

I shrugged, still avoiding his gaze. “Probably. I dunno. Wasn’t planning on deciding that right now.”

“Hey.” He lifted my chin, forcing me to look at the tenderness in his eyes. “Don’t you dare be fucking embarrassed.” He tilted his head when I let out a little hmmf. “Did I… did I ever apologize for bringing up your posters that night?”

We both knew what he was referring to.

“Dunno,” I muttered, knowing full well that the answer was no. We’d never brought up that particular comment.

“Oh.” Roy’s hands slid off my shoulders and he grabbed my hand, leading me to the couch. We sat, and he kept my hand in his. “I’m sorry. I… I never want you to feel embarrassed about having a fucking crush on me, alright?”

I shrugged, glancing away. “It’s… it’s silly. All those posters and the sweater and now the freaking cardboard cutout. It just reminds me what a crazed stalker fan I was before we met. Makes me feel a bit embarrassed.”

He smiled and shifted closer. “It might be a little silly,” he agreed. “But it’s also fucking flattering.” He brushed some hair out of my face. “Y’know, when I first saw all that stuff in your room, I thought my heart was going to fucking stop. Because there you were, my stunning new officemate, with my stupid fucking face on your walls. Even the really bad pictures.” He shrugged, suddenly bashful. “Made me realize I had a real fucking shot with you.” He gestured towards the folded-up cutout. “So, I know when you see that shit, you feel embarrassed and all, but when I see it, I remember how fucking excited I got when I realized that you were at least attracted to me. And how seeing you get all flustered, just like you are right now-” He poked my nose affectionately. “-gave me the guts to kiss you.”

To punctuate his point, he leaned over and gently pressed his lips to mine, reminding me of that moment in my bedroom, where he sat on my bed and asked if he was still hot and kissed me for the first time. It felt just as surreal now as it did then, and I asked whatever god was out there to not let me wake up from this dream.

When Roy pulled back, he wore that same fucking smile, the one I didn’t think I’d ever get used to seeing. “Right. Help me find the fucking blanket so we can get some sleep, hmm?” Holding my hand, he helped me to my feet, and the two of us set to work, looking for the blanket so we could finally go to our bed.

Working for Higgins was an easy adjustment. I loved my new office upstairs; I had put up photos of Roy, both of my little orange sticky notes, a couple drawings from Phoebe, pictures with Keeley and Rebecca, Oscar, the team, my family, Roy’s family. The handmade card that Ted, Beard, Roy, and the whole team had signed to congratulate me on the promotion sat on my desk, alongside a framed photo of Roy kissing me after the final game against Arsenal, courtesy of Keeley, who’d found it in a tabloid.

I loved having my office right next to Higgins, who liked to pop in for a chat in the late mornings, and brought in treats that his wife made for us to share, and tapped out a beat on our shared wall when I played my music loud enough for him to hear. He listened excitedly to my ideas and suggestions, and he quickly stopped referring to me as “Assistant to the Director of Football Operations” and began calling me “Assistant Director of Football Operations”; it was a change everyone at the Dog Track was quick to adopt.

But I had to admit, my favorite thing about my new office was the window by my desk. As much as I missed my office that I had shared with Roy, this office had one great advantage: the view. My window overlooked the pitch, where I could watch training. Meaning, I could watch Roy. When my window was cracked open, the way it always happened to be when the team was on the pitch, I could hear him screaming “Whistle!” and swearing at Jamie. Sometimes I’d just stand by the window and watch for a bit; that always managed to catch his eye, and I was always rewarded with a smirk and a wave from Roy, sometimes some teasing whistles from the team or a cheerful “Howdy!” from Ted.

After a bit more than a full season working upstairs, I found myself skipping from Higgins’s office to mine. We’d been pursuing a great young player out of Mexico, someone Dani had brought to our attention, and we’d finally signed him. And, despite my insistence that this was a team effort, I had been instrumental in making it happen. So, Keeley and Rebecca decided to take me out to a celebratory lunch, one that Rebecca informed me would take the rest of the afternoon and also required me to dress nice. Accordingly, I had worn heels and a springy little dress that had made Roy’s jaw drop with a soft “Whoa” that morning as we got ready for work. Seeing that man check me out still managed to make my heart flutter with delight.

After popping into Higgins’s office to let him know I was heading out, I went back to mine to open the window and shout down a quick goodbye to Roy. Instead, I found an empty pitch. Weird.

I figured they must have gone into the weight room or something, just a spontaneous change of plans. Par for the course with Ted in charge. So, I made my way downstairs, thinking I’d pop into Roy’s office to see if I could get a proper goodbye.

The changing room was eerily quiet, as was Ted and Beard’s office. I poked my head into Roy’s office, which I hated to admit looked empty since I’d moved upstairs. It was especially empty without Roy. With a small hmmf, I paused to glance over his desk, smiling when I glimpsed the picture of us that sat on his desk, a selfie in front of the Mona Lisa that he’d grumbled good-naturedly about.

“That’s a great picture of us.”

Roy stood in the doorway, kebab takeaway container in hand. He smiled and walked over to me, placing the Styrofoam box on his desk. He kissed my forehead sweetly and let his eyes trail over my face.

“Just wanted to say bye before I head to lunch,” I explained, giving his leather jacket a friendly tug. “You look nice, by the way. Interview today?”

He shrugged. “Just didn’t want to be in fucking workout clothes all day,” he mumbled. He nodded towards the takeaway box. “Got you somethin’.”

I frowned. “Kebabs? Roy, I told you I’ve got lunch plans with Keeley and Rebecca.”

“Open the box.”

I rolled my eyes. “Seriously, Roy, I’m gonna be late. Can’t you just toss these in the fridge, and I’ll eat them tonight? Or you can eat them. Or-”

“Just open the fucking box,” Roy said with a laugh, eyebrows raised. “Shit, you really never fucking shut up.”

Narrowing my eyes, I picked up the surprisingly light container. I glanced back at Roy, who nodded at me, encouraging me to open it. With a sigh I opened the lid. Instead of finding our usual lunch, there was a small, velvet box inside and a little orange sticky note that simply read:

To my future wife

XOXO Roy

I snapped my head up to look at Roy, whose smile had grown. Hands shaking slightly, I picked up the black box, letting the Styrofoam container plop back onto Roy’s desk. When I opened the little box, I gasped.

Inside was a diamond ring. It was simple, a small diamond, the exact kind I’d described to Keeley and Rebecca at our sleepover so long ago. I looked back up at Roy, whose eyes had that old anxiety swimming in them, alongside affection and tenderness.

“I’d get down on one knee, but, y’know,” he mumbled, offering up a bashful smile. He cleared his throat. “If I could go back to the first time I bought you kebabs for lunch, I’d have done this. Because every minute of not being married to you is a big fucking waste of time.”

My breath caught in my throat as I blinked back tears. “Roy,” I gasped, my eyes shifting back to the beautiful ring.

He reached over and took the ring out of the box and held it up to me. “What d’you say?” His voice was soft, tender, full of adoration to an extent I’d never heard. “Please say yes.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at the familiar phrase. “Yes.” I leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips, my heart bursting at the feeling of his smile against mine.

To my surprise, he pulled back. “She fucking said yes!” he hollered, slipping the ring on my finger.

In an instant, every Greyhound player, along with Ted, Beard, Rebecca, Higgins, and Keeley, burst into the tiny office, shouting and cheering and hugging each other with even more joy than when they’d finished first. Someone- Dani and Colin and Sam, I presumed- started throwing confetti around the office while we were ambushed with hugs and kisses and congratulations.

Keeley and Rebecca smothered me in their arms, offering their own words of excitement and joy. I looked at them suspiciously.

“There was no lunch, was there?”

Rebecca scrunched her nose and shook her head. “Roy asked if we could find an excuse to dress you up,” she admitted, tears in her eyes.

Keeley, who was openly crying, held up her phone. “And a good thing! Look how fucking beautiful you look!” Sure enough, I looked gorgeous in the photos Keeley had managed to take of the proposal. But my eyes were drawn to Roy’s face and the absolute joy that could be seen there.

I felt someone grab my hand and tug; Roy smiled down at me as he pulled me close. “Did I do good?” he murmured. When I nodded, he grunted. “Good. I’m actually impressed that these muppets could keep a fucking secret.”

As he pulled me into a proper kiss, Jamie and Sam started a chant that everyone quickly joined in: “He’s here, he’s there, he’s gonna marry her! Roy Kent! Roy Kent!”

The night before the wedding, I packed a bag to go stay at my parents’ house, where Keeley, my maid of honor, insisted on having a sleepover so she could see the shrine, as my childhood bedroom was often called.

Her mouth widened into that Cheshire-cat grin as she took in all the posters. “Holy shit, it’s even better than I imagined!” she giggled, setting her things down. “You’re telling me that Roy saw this, and that’s what made him decide to kiss you?”

Sitting down on my bed, I chuckled. “I know. He must’ve really fucking liked me.”

Instead of joining me, Keeley meandered around my room, pointing out different posters and tittering at them. She turned to me, eyebrow cocked. “Alright. Which one is your absolute favorite?”

I bobbled my head, grinning. “Well, there’s always this one.” I pointed above me to the poster of a young Roy that my dad and I had argued over the placement of. I stood and skipped over to the closet. “Or this one.” Taped inside my closet was a picture of a shirtless Roy running, the one that I’d secretly ripped out of a magazine when I was sixteen and spent far too many hours drooling over.

Keeley howled with laughter at the sight of it. “Holy shit, no wonder you’re marrying him, he looks fit as fuck there. Has he seen this one?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely not,” I answered, joining in her snickering. “That’s the one secret I’m going to keep from my husband, thank you very much.”

We spent the rest of the night sitting on my bed, gabbing and giggling and sharing the champagne Keeley had packed in her overnight bag, until Keeley knocked out next to me. I gazed up at the ceiling, staring at Roy, unable to believe what my life had become. When I had put that poster up, I was a giggling young girl, fantasizing about what it would be like to meet the guy on the poster, the one who made me betray my family and watch Chelsea matches. And in mere hours, I’d be standing in front of that same man and marrying him.

Oh, if only my teenage self could see me now.

As excited as teenage me would be about marrying Roy freaking Kent (and the fact that we got to shag that gorgeous man), she’d be even more excited to find out that he was kind. And loving. And funny. And good with dogs and kids, despite himself. And that he loved The Sound of Music and reading. And that he was a damn good cook. And that he begrudgingly sang Spice Girls songs on road trips. And that he loved us.

Before I drifted off to sleep, I blew a kiss to the Roy on my ceiling, silently thanking him for his role in introducing me to the real Roy Kent.

My hands started to sweat as I heard the violins playing. Keeley had squeezed me tight and shoved my bouquet in my hands before walking down the aisle, where Roy stood with Jamie, who he’d asked to be best man through gritted teeth. After Keeley went Phoebe, in her poofy dress, who, at this point, was probably more excited about the wedding than anyone else.

As I took my position in front of the closed doors, my dad linked our arms, smiling at me with gentle pride. “You ready?” With my mouth insanely dry, all I could manage was a firm nod. “Roy Kent,” he clucked, shaking his head. “You’re really marrying Roy fucking Kent.” He kissed my cheek. “And more importantly, you’re marrying someone who loves you the way you deserve.”

“That I am,” I managed, taking a deep breath as the doors opened.

Roy’s eyes lit up the moment he saw me, just like I knew mine did at the sight of him. As a surprise, I’d asked the violinists to play the wedding march from The Sound of Music for my walk down the aisle; I could see the moment Roy realized it, because he threw his head back and rolled his eyes cheekily.

After my dad kissed my cheek and placed my hand on Roy’s, Roy leaned forward. “My fucking Maria,” he whispered, shaking his head.

“My Captain von Trapp,” I countered with a wink.

Rebecca had meant it as a joke when she offered to let us use the Dog Track as our reception venue. But Roy and I jumped at the offer, thinking it was fitting, considering how central A.F.C. Richmond was to our relationship. In the days leading up to our wedding day, we spent hours transforming the pitch into a proper party space, surpassing all of our expectations.

After allowing people to mingle with appetizers and drinks, Ted, who we’d allowed to play emcee for the night, called us forward for toasts. Roy sighed and rolled his eyes, more of a reflex than anything else, and gripped my hand tight as we walked to the stage that Keeley had managed to have brought in.

Roy took the microphone from Ted with a grunt and a curt nod. He let out a deep breath and brought the microphone to his mouth. “Right. So, for some reason, everyone thinks that prick over there is my best friend.” He pointed at Jamie, who stood up, looking prouder than when he was named Player of the Year. “But honestly, this right here is my best friend in the world.” He turned back to me, ignoring the offended scoff from Jamie. “From the moment I crashed her father’s birthday dinner, she’s become my very best friend.” He cleared his throat and gave his head a little nervous scratch. “So, most people who know us know the story of how we got together. Dad’s birthday dinner, posters in the childhood bedroom, secret relationship that apparently everyone at Nelson Road fucking knew about. But, I’ve never told anyone about how I was basically a fucking stalker before any of that.”

I looked over at Roy quizzically. He smirked and continued.

“See, I fancied her the fucking moment I met her. Like, Ted brought her into the office, and I couldn’t say a fucking word. I think I told her not to wear any rank perfume and then just slouched off.” Everyone gave out a light chuckle. “Then I bought her lunch, as a way to, I dunno, make conversation. And we sort of started chatting at work a bit after that. And then this one Friday night she leaves early. And Ted says that he forgot to give her some papers he’d wanted her to work on over the weekend, and he’s all ‘Oh well, she can get it Monday’. But me, being properly whipped at this point, I fucking say ‘I’ll take it to her’.”

My jaw fell slightly; this whole time, I had thought Ted must’ve begged or bribed Roy to bring me those papers. Had he really brought them just to see me?

“I made up some shit about how she told me whereabouts she lived and that it wasn’t too far from my place. And now, looking back, I don’t think he fucking believed me.”

“Nope!” Ted called out with a hearty laugh. “I knew you were in love!”

Roy playfully shot Ted his favorite gesture and continued. “So, I realized I had no clue where she lived. And I felt like an absolute wanker. But then I remembered, we were on some stupid Snapchat group with Ted.”

“You’re welcome!” Ted chimed in again.

Roy rolled his eyes. “And this gorgeous idiot had her location on. So, I did what any sane guy would do: I fucking stalked her. And I turned into fucking Hugh Grant in Love Actually and went knocking on every door in that neighborhood like a right idiot. Until finally, I knocked on a door and saw this beautiful face.” He smiled gently at me. “And I realized right then that I loved that face. And I wanted to see that face every day.” He leaned over and gave me a small kiss. “So, I just want to say, I fucking love you. And I am so happy that I get to see your face and buy you kebabs for the rest of my life.” He took the champagne flute that Ted was holding out to him. “To Mrs. Roy Kent.”

“Mrs. Roy Kent!” everyone repeated, clinking their glasses together and sipping their champagne.

I toasted with Roy and took the microphone he offered me. “All I can say,” I started as everyone quieted, “is that dreams really do come true, and sometimes you get to marry the guy on the poster.” Everyone gave a light chuckle before I went on. “Honestly, though. Anyone who knows me knows that I have had a monstrous crush on this beautiful man for years. Pretty much since the day he made his debut. My poor dad had to watch me put up posters of a Chelsea player on my walls. Best day of his life was when Roy Kent came to Richmond, because it finally meant me putting up Greyhound posters.”

My dad’s laugh was the loudest of all.

“But I realized that today I’m not marrying some guy on a poster.” I turned to Roy and looked into his eyes. “Today I’m marrying Roy. The fit guy I met at work who cooks and who is a wonderful uncle and who loves Dan Brown novels and makes me happy.” I knew my smile was big and silly as I gazed at him. “When I met you, it was a dream come true, getting to know my big celebrity crush. But now, the life I’m living is better than any dream. And I love you for that. I absolutely love you.” I leaned over and planted a heated kiss on his lips, eliciting wolf-whistles from the Greyhounds. Blushing, I raised my glass. “To Roy!”

“To Roy!” came the echo, amidst cheers and sips of champagne.

Rot was relieved when the toasts were over (especially Jamie’s surprisingly tearful speech). We went through the rest of the motions- first dance, dinner, cutting the cake- and finally came to the part of the evening we were most looking forward to: the party. We danced with our friends and drank, reveling in the joy we all shared.

I was enjoying a dance with Beard when Roy grabbed my hand, saying he needed to show me something.

“Roy, can’t you wait until we leave for our honeymoon?” I teased as he led me away from the dance floor.

He rolled his eyes. “Sometimes I think you talk so fucking much just so I kiss you to try to shut you up,” he quipped.

We came to a stop at the edge of the party, where a flat wrapped package sat alone. I stared at Roy quizzically as he picked it up and handed it to me.

“I think your office can use some more décor,” he started slowly. “Especially because I heard some rumors about Higgins thinking about early retirement.”

I sighed and bit back a smile. “There has been talk,” I admitted. “Nothing set in stone, but I am definitely in the running to eventually become the D.F.O. once Higgins is ready to hand over the reins.” I gestured to whatever it was I held in my hands. “But what’s this?”

He bobbled his head. “Wedding gift. For your office. I’ve owed you this for a while now.”

My curiosity growing, I quickly opened the gift, letting the paper fall to the floor. It was something in a frame. I turned it over and threw my head back when I saw it.

It was the poster from my ceiling, the one Roy and I sat under when we kissed for the first time, only now it was framed. And more importantly, autographed.

“You’re an arsehole,” I laughed, cupping Roy’s cheek and pressing a kiss to his lips. “And I fucking love it.”

He shrugged, taking the poster from my hands and laying it down so he could hold me, leaning his forehead to mine. “Told you I’d autograph it for you,” he mumbled before peppering kisses all over my face. “I think it’ll look fucking great in your office, don’t you?”

I laughed and nodded. “Even if I don’t become D.F.O., I’ll still have the best office decorations in the building.”

Roy pulled back, studying my face carefully. “Fuck that. You’re going to get it.” He kissed me again. “After all, you’re a fucking superstar.”

I let out a small huff, embarrassed by the praise. “Roy-”

“Don’t you ever stop talking?”

And with that, he shut me up in the best way he knew how.

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