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skyewritesstuff · 7 months

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greedy | p. mellark

my masterlist.

summary: after months of being in what you think is a situationship with peeta, you finally confront him about whether or not there's anything truly there or if you're just another girl who has fallen for his kindness and misinterpreted the signs.

pairing: peeta mellark x reader (college!au, fratboy!peeta if you squint)

fandom: the hunger games

warnings: nothing too serious. implied nsfw at the end. afab reader. sorta ooc peeta...it's mostly environmental because we all know peeta's a flirt.

notes: based on greedy by tate mcrae even though the verse at the end gives me everlark vibes. also, this has been beta read. :)

word count: 2.8k

He’s here. Are you coming?

You looked at the blue and gray text thread, Clove’s name, and contact picture with a little clover emoji sitting right on top of it. A sigh escaped you as you looked up from your phone at the fraternity house that was positioned in front of you. You’d been leaning against the fencing that surrounded the yard for what felt like an hour, but in reality, it’d only been a few minutes.

As of late, facing Peeta Mellark has always been an unpredictable situation. While he was kind, polite, and charismatic, that charisma oftentimes led to him getting entangled metaphorically (at least you hoped) with other girls. You couldn’t tell if he didn’t know how to say no, was weighing out his options, or if he was what Clove often referred to as a “fuckboy”.

Fuck it. You rolled your eyes, stuffed your phone into your jacket pocket, and made your way across the cement walkway leading to the house. Having second thoughts, you pulled your phone back out, pulling up the same conversation with Clove.

Is she here?

The person you were speaking of was none other than Katniss Everdeen. She was the most recent girl that Peeta had been hanging around with and was simultaneously the cause of your latest installment of confusion. According to some of your other friends, she’d been friends with Peeta for a while and the study date you ran up on in the library was nothing but a platonic catch-up amongst busy friends.

However, one Madge Undersee had more than the opposite to say. All it took was one group mirror shot in the bathroom at a nightclub posted on Instagram, featuring you and Peeta in the outskirts of the photo, his arm wrapped securely around your waist, for her to send you a heated DM saying that he and Katniss had been a thing for forever and that you were coming between them.

You very quickly sent back, “Funny how the alleged ‘other girl’ always gets shit while the dude gets to slide by.” with a sarcastically placed upside-down smiley that was left on read still to this day.

A typing bubble appeared in Clove’s thread.

I don’t think so!

You let out another sigh, relieved that for now, Katniss wasn’t a worry. You walked into the house, looking around. There was a cloud of smoke in the air, presumably from various substances and/or a smoke machine, and bright lights coming from various directions. You squinted, trying to make out anyone you knew, but specifically trying to find Clove.

“Hey!” The greeting was slurred, long, and drawn out as an arm was all but dropped onto your shoulders. Finnick Odair was standing beside you, laughing at what appeared to be nothing. Finnick was a grad student that you’d met while waiting in line for coffee, quickly discovering that you two had mutual connections.

“Y/N…Y/N…you look…beautiful, stunning, ravishing…Have you seen Annie?”

You chuckled at how rapidly his thought process changed. “Nope, I just got here! Maybe try calling her?”

“Ha,” he let out, “I don’t…I don’t know her number…”

“But she should be in your… never mind, you’ll find her I’m sure.” you grinned, shaking your head.

“Alright, sweet!” Finnick started to walk away, but then quickly turned on his heel back to you, pointing in your direction.

“Almost forgot…Peeta’s looking for you!”

“What?”

The question was ignored as he walked away, approaching another male at the party the same way he’d approached you. Peeta was looking for you? Was he serious or just on another planet from the amount of alcohol in his system?

You kept maneuvering through the crowd, trying to locate the kitchen, knowing that’s where most of the snacks and drinks were. The kitchen also usually served as a good place to wait around if you were looking for someone.

You pulled out your phone, shooting a text to Clove to meet you in the kitchen. You stared down at the screen, hoping for a speech bubble to pop up saying she was either on her way or giving you simple directions to wherever she was located. You then felt yourself collide with someone in a way that wasn’t painful, but most definitely was going to lead to an awkward exchange.

“Oh shit…I’m so sorry…”

You were met with blonde hair and a black hoodie and then a beautiful set of oh-too-familiar blue eyes.

“Don’t be!” Peeta smiled, “I was looking for you! I sent out Finnick to look for you and everything.”

You rolled your eyes with a smirk, “Well, you might want to find someone sober enough to complete the mission next time, just saying.”

“You are probably absolutely correct…but it’s fine. Why send someone else when it’s something you can do on your own way better, right?” he smiled, leaning on the wall, taking a sip from his cup, “Do you want something to drink?”

“What is that?” you gestured to the cup, raising a curious yet somewhat fearful eyebrow.

Peeta shrugged, “I think it’s some kind of jungle juice. The base has to be Hawaiian Punch because of the color if that helps.” He extended the cup towards you, “Want to see for yourself?”

You nodded and took the cup, taking a sip. It was definitely Hawaiian Punch, and it wasn’t as strong as you thought it would be, which could either be a help or a hindrance.

“Pretty good, right?” he asked. You nodded in response, handing the cup back to him. “Do you want me to get you some of that…or I can try to mix you something myself?”

“Whatever that is, that’s fine.” you answered, following him over to a large orange Gatorade dispenser that had the word “NOT” written on a piece of tape, stuck above the label. You chuckled under your breath as you watched the blonde grab a cup, scoop out some ice, and then fill the drink. As he did this, you took the time to take in his appearance as your brain had been busy keeping up with the conversation instead of taking a good look at him.

He was in a black hoodie with a small logo on the chest; his blonde hair falling into his face a little. He also was wearing gray joggers with his university lanyard sticking out of the pocket, falling onto his leg with a pair of somewhat beaten-up sneakers. Despite his relaxed appearance, he looked put together. He looked good.

Peeta turned back to you, handing you the cup, which you took with a smile. “Do you wanna go somewhere quieter?” he asked, gesturing to the surroundings before refilling his cup.

Your stomach turned with nerves. He probably just meant to talk, but what if he didn't? You knew for a fact that your bra and underwear were not fancy, nor did they match, and you probably had the lowest body count in your friend group. You took a hard swallow.

“...To talk…” Peeta laughed, his tone sounding a little nervous as he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly and took a sip from his cup. The lights well-hid the red flush on his face.

“Oh…okay, yeah!” you laughed back, watching as he extended his hand. You took his hand, noticing how he immediately laced your fingers together as he walked you through the main hallway that you’d just walked through and up the stairs.

Someone at a distance must’ve seen you both making your way upstairs, because someone wolf-whistled and then called Peeta’s name, causing him to sharply turn over his shoulder to try and identify the person. He quickly stuck his middle finger up at no one in particular, given the culprit was never identified, and then sped up a little as you both got up to the top of the stairs.

“I'm sorry. People are dumb and make ridiculous assumptions…like I’m really not trying to…”

“Peeta, it’s okay.” you reassured him, “If Clove had seen me, she probably would’ve been ten times worse and reminded me of one of her ridiculous tips to supposedly eliminate your gag reflex that she learned on TikTok.”

Peeta somewhat choked on the sip of his drink that he was taking, laughing at your comment, “Who said you couldn’t learn something off of the internet.”

He led you down a shorter hallway to a door. He knocked twice before opening it, finding it just as he must’ve left it, as you quickly put two-and-two together that this was his room. He shut and locked the door behind him, took another sip from his drink, and sat it on his bedside table before flopping on the bed as you leaned against the wall.

You took a big sip of your drink, hoping the alcohol kicked in sooner rather than later to get some control of the nerves that were bubbling up across your entire body. You watched as the blonde turned on his side and looked over at you.

“I'm not gonna bite, sweetheart…unless you’re into that.”

You couldn’t refrain from rolling your eyes at his cheesy line before you walked over to sit your drink next to his. Then, you removed your jacket, hanging it from his footrest. Before you could even turn your attention back to him, you could feel his eyes on you. It was like he was bearing a hole into the exposed skin on your back that was left uncovered from your dress now that your denim jacket had been discarded.

When you turned back around, he rolled onto his back with his hands behind his head, smiling up at you. “You’re gorgeous.”

It was spoken so matter-of-factly as if he was telling you the most basic of observations…as if it were obvious to anyone who looked at you. You could feel your chest swell slightly at his words. Your instinct was going to be to tell him to stop or to refute what he said, but you took a breath and let out a small, “Thank you” in response as you sat on the edge of his bed and then slowly inched your way back onto the bed, laying next to him.

The room was silent, aside from the bumping music that was playing behind the door and down the stairs, and your eyes were fixed on the ceiling fan, watching it spin to avoid meeting Peeta’s eyes, fearing the burning blush that would overtake your body if you did.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked, breaking that silence.

“Nothing…” It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the full truth either. You weren’t giving your full thought process to anything. Instead, your brain was in several places at once. You’d thought about the makeup tutorial you’d seen earlier set to the song that was playing downstairs. You’d thought about how close Peeta was to you. You’d also thought about Katniss and Peeta’s study “date” from a while back too.

“Baby, if something’s bothering you, you can tell me.” he said. You finally glanced over at him. He was on his side, facing you, leaning against one hand while the other played with his hoodie string.

Baby.

Before you could stop yourself, the bigger question tumbled out of your lips, “What’s up with you?”

His features scrunched together in confusion, “What do you mean?”

“You take me on dates. You kiss me. You hold my hand. You call me baby.” you paused, “But then, I see you at the library with Katniss Everdeen and I have one of her stupid little friends in my DMs accusing me of being a homewrecker because you have your arm around me in a photo I didn’t even post…and I’ve seen you talking to other girls too, Peeta. You do the same thing, leaning against the wall, standing close to them. You’re smiling and laughing and the girl is playing with her hair and laughing back at you. What is all of that? Am I just the one you know will answer your random texts and calls to hang out…go to the club… make out in your car? Am I some weird escape from reality like…who…”

You were quickly silenced by his lips on yours, one hand coming up to your cheek, pulling you in closer to him. It was almost second nature at this point and your body quickly betrayed you despite your frustrations and melted into the kiss as it deepened, your hand coming to rest on his ribcage, progressively snaking onto his back and then upwards into his blonde locks as he moved over top of you.

The motion of him nudging your leg with his knee so he could position himself knocked you back into reality like a harsh slap to the face. You put both hands onto his chest and applied just enough pressure to jerk him back into the present as well. He looked confused. His chest was rising and falling rapidly and his lips were slightly swollen.

“Did I do something?”

You propped yourself up, causing him to move, rolling back onto his back, his arm dropping across his chest as he rather obviously tried to cool himself down. You sat up, looking down at Peeta, whose eyes met yours.

“You never answered my question.”

“Yes, I did.” He looked at you like you’d missed the most obvious sign in the universe, but you already knew he meant the kiss, and that was not the answer you were looking for.

You shook your head, “A kiss isn’t an answer. If anything, it just proves my point. I don’t understand you. You clearly, in some way, want me. So, what is it? Are you just playing the field…fucking a bunch of random girls…Are you in love with Katniss still?”

“Katniss?” Peeta looked like you’d slapped him clean across his handsome face.

“Yes, Katniss…” You repeated, glancing from him to the door, wondering if it’d just be better to get up and go home. You knew fully well that he’d follow you. There was no getting out of this.

“I get it. You’re hot. You’re nice. I genuinely don’t think you’d try to intentionally hurt anyone, but…”

“That’s it, right there.” He pointed toward you as you spoke, “You talk about me and my mixed signals…what is that? You go from basically saying I’m some piece of shit heartbreaker to saying I’d never hurt anyone. You do that a lot. You’ll go from dancing with me and kissing me…letting me hold you while you’re sleeping to acting completely disinterested in anything outside of a friendship. I’ve never dealt with anything like this before. Girls are usually pretty forward with me…regardless of whether I feel the same or not. I don’t know if it’s intentional…like you think it’ll make me want you more or what, but it’s driving me crazy. Other girls may want me...I don't know for sure, but I know for sure that I want you, not them. I’m trying my best to show you that…but you just keep pushing me away and I wish you’d stop.”

Your eyes dropped to the floor, suddenly hyper-aware of a scuff on the toe of your boots. Your heart pounded as you tried to process what he’d said. He was usually so confident and sure in his abilities to keep sucking you back in, but the wavering tones in his voice indicated otherwise. He was serious.

You turned back to him, “I…I like you a lot…a lot more than just a friend…which is why seeing you with those other girls drove me fucking insane. I want you and for you to only want me. I don’t want to just be some kind of convenience for you. I’m either your girlfriend or nothing at all.”

His lips curved into a smile as your arms crossed over your chest, waiting for a response from the blonde. Peeta sat up and moved in closer to you, his forehead resting against yours, lips inches from your own.

“As you wish, girlfriend.”

His lips were on yours as soon as the title was spoken, moving slowly and sensually. His hand came to your waist as you fell back onto the bed, pulling him down with you as you finally let him move over top of you. The kisses grew needier and more passionate as your hands moved to the hem of his hoodie, pulling it and his white undershirt over his head and allowing for him to toss them behind him.

The articles of clothing caught your jacket, bringing it to the floor as well. Your phone slid out of the pocket as it vibrated, going completely unnoticed next to the clothing.

Where are you?

Hello?

Oh my god, Cato just said he saw you going upstairs with Peeta. Good luck. ;) Remember what I told you about spelling your name. Trust me, works every single time.

#the hunger games #thg #the hunger games fanfiction #peeta mellark #peeta mellark x yn #peeta mellark x you #peeta mellark x reader #hunger games x reader #fanfiction #catching fire #mockingjay #josh hutcherson #peeta mellark imagine

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sihtricfedaraaahvicius · 1 month

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Shooting a Movie part 2

Note: as if I can write a one chapter thing. nope! once again; shoutout to @foxyanon for letting me ramble about this fic to her as I made it up!

follow up to part 1.

Warnings: 18+!! smut/brief hint of angst. The pornstar plot continues with Sihtric.

pairing: Modern!Sihtric x you (f)

summary: your next job offer was to make a movie with Sihtric.

wordcount: 5k

Masterlist

Your movie with Masema had been a success, and the movie offers came rolling in your manager's inbox ever since it was released.

You viewed all the offers but none really made you excited as they were, as expected, all made for the hardcore porn industry. Masema had told you he'd always be up for another movie if you would be interested, all you had to do was contact his manager and he'd be game. But as much as you had loved your little adventure with the dominant man, the hardcore stuff was not what you wanted to focus on necessarily right now, so you turned down offer after offer.

However, after a few weeks you contemplated hitting up Masema again, as you simply needed work in order to pay your bills, but before you could reach out you suddenly received an interesting message; a role in a more soft porn movie was available, and the male co-star was none other than Sihtric Kjartansson.

Sihtric was a very well known name in the industry, just like Masema, and it wasn't easy to make it through the selection to work with him. You and many others swore Sihtric and Masema could've been twins, but they both truly didn't know each other nor had they ever met, despite working in the same industry. There were some differences between the two men though. Sihtric was scarred and had several tattoos on his body, and he had an outrageous but damned sexy haircut with half of his head shaved and the other half full with long, dark curls. But their personalities were completely different as well. Masema was stern, serious and rather quiet, whereas Sihtric was not taking himself seriously at all, he just wanted to have fun. And from the stories you had heard in the dressing rooms and at parties, Sihtric was truly kind, gentle and very warmhearted. Everyone who had worked with Sihtric had nothing but praise for him, and you hoped you would soon be one of the lucky ones who could tell nice stories about him.

You reacted to the available spot, and to your surprise you got a phone call from Sihtric himself only a few days later to tell you that you were his first choice.

'There's a script,' Sihtric said on the phone, 'it's a roleplay but I haven't read it yet. I thought maybe we could go through it together?'

Sihtric's voice melted your insides, sounding so warm and playful, and you already couldn't wait to finally meet him. You'd seen several of his movies, and you had never failed to get off by watching him, but you weren't exactly planning on telling him that.

'Sure, that sounds great,' you said, glad that he couldn't see your flushed face.

'Great,' Sihtric said and laughed softly, which weakened your knees, 'how do you want to meet? I just want to make sure you're all comfortable, you know? I could come over to your place if you'd wish, if you feel safe and at ease there, but you're always welcome to come over to my place. Or, we could always meet up for lunch or something and just go over it, no matter how weird that may be,' he laughed again.

'Eh,' you stammered a little lightheaded, 'no, I- I'll come over to your place, no worries.'

You preferred to visit your co-stars instead of inviting them over to your home, that way you can always leave whenever you want to in case you don't vibe with them.

'Alright, cool,' Sihtric said with clear excitement in his voice, 'I'll make sure I have the scripts here and I'll text you my address. If you're cool with me texting you of course,' he quickly checked.

'Sure, you can text me,' you smiled.

When you arrived at the apartment building Sihtric lived in you double checked the address he had texted you before getting out of your car. The neighbourhood looked rather dodgy, even on a late afternoon, and not a place where a famous and rich pornstar would live. You were hesitant to get out of your car as you saw a group of men hanging out near the building, and so you texted Sihtric to ask if you were really at the right place. You looked at the building again and got spooked when your phone suddenly rang as Sihtric called you.

'Sihtric?' you answered.

'Yeah, hey,' he chuckled as he ran down some stairs, his footsteps echoing loudly in the background, 'you're at the right place, but I know how it looks. I'm on my way to pick you up, don't worry.'

He had barely said those words when you saw the main entrance door swing open and Sihtric stepping through it. He looked so good while so casually dressed, wearing black leather boots with black sweatpants and a half buttoned up grey flannel on top. His outfit coincidentally matched with your short black skirt and dark grey t-shirt.

Sihtric hung up as soon as he saw you step out of your car, and he showed you a big smile as he approached you with open arms, inviting you in for a hug.

'Hey, babe,' he said so smoothly and naturally while he pulled you in for a tight embrace, 'sorry about the place,' he rambled before you could even greet him back, 'I've lived here almost all my life and I'm used to it. I actually never invite colleagues over for that reason and stop by them, so when I invited you I forget this place looks dodgy as fuck. Sorry about that,' he took a step back and held your hands, 'damn, you look gorgeous by the way,' he made you twirl around for him as he held your hand so he could check you out, 'how are you, darling?'

'I- Oh,' you giggled as you nearly fell in his arms, 'I'm good,' you smiled and already felt yourself getting lost in his mismatched eyes, 'and how are you?'

'Couldn't be better,' Sihtric smiled sweetly and then noticed he had never given you the time or space to close your car door, so he shut it for you.

'Thanks,' you felt yourself already constantly blushing in his presence.

Sihtric waved off your gratitude and took your hand, holding it as he walked you towards the building.

His apartment was bigger than you had expected, but still very modest and it was evident that a single guy lived there. His living room was a little bit messy, but not dirty, and you wondered why someone who earned the amount of money he did lived in a place like that. There was nothing wrong with it though, but it was the total opposite of Masema's mansion for example, as Sihtric only seemed to have one bedroom instead of six. And in a way you actually liked that, because Sihtric clearly wasn't flashy and showing off his money; he liked to keep life simple and it seemingly kept him grounded too.

You sat down on his black leather couch while he poured you a drink, and after some small talk you moved on to the reason for this meeting.

'Okay,' Sihtric said with a sigh as he held the scripts in his hand, 'I've only read the pairing and it's as cliché as it gets, but,' he paused for a second and handed you the one script, 'I think it's hilarious and we can work with it.'

'What's the pair- oh,' you snorted when you saw the roles selected, 'teacher and student, really?'

'I know,' Sihtric laughed and let himself fall back into his comfy couch next to you, 'let's see what we got here then,' he said and flipped the first page.

You sipped your drink while his eyes scanned the first page, and a frown appeared on his face before it transformed into a grin.

'Oh, hold on,' he chuckled, 'I expected me to be the intimidating teacher and you the hot student, but it looks like they reversed the roles for once.'

'What?' you nearly choked on your drink and flipped the page, 'oh, shit,' you laughed.

'This is ridiculous,' Sihtric laughed again as he read the context of the written scenes, 'I have to eat you out to crank my grade up? And in return for my good behaviour you give me a blowjob? I would've been a fucking A student in school if this was how it worked,' he snorted, and you both laughed as you continued to read.

'Oh, we have sex on the teacher's desk, obviously,' you rolled your eyes with a smile.

'I love how awful this is,' Sihtric said and shook his head, smiling, 'who even writes this shit?'

'The writer should be stated in the back right?' you had barely spoken the words or Sihtric already flipped to the last page.

'Let's see. Hm, one… Osferth?' Sihtric furrowed his brow and then laughed, 'what a freaky dude. Anyway, are you up for this though?' Sihtric looked at you and threw his script on his salon table.

'Eh,' you paused as you quickly looked through the written acts again, 'yeah, it's all fine by me. Nothing we haven't done before. I'm cool with this. You?'

'Of course,' he said and turned to face you, resting his arm on the couch's backrest behind you.

You also turned towards him, feeling comfortably shy under his intense but soft and sweet gaze. You knew he wanted more than to discuss that script with you, but it was also clear that he gave you enough space to tell him you didn't want anything more right now if that would be the case. But you had no plans of stopping him, as you wanted to explore him as much as he wanted to explore you. And Sihtric sensed that, he was good at reading people and feeling their energy, and he liked what you radiated. He then leaned in a little closer and hooked one finger around the delicate golden necklace you wore.

'Gift from a lover?' he asked as he looked at the little heart pendant.

'Oh, no,' you said, 'I just liked it and bought it myself some years ago.'

'Ah,' he clicked his tongue, 'fair. I saw it in one of your movies and I thought it was just an accessory at first, but I got curious now seeing you wear it in private.'

'You got curious?' you asked with a playful smile, 'curious to what? If I'm seeing someone?'

'Just curious is all, sweetheart,' Sihtric said with a soft voice, and he smiled while his fingers grazed your collar bones lightly after letting go of your necklace.

'So you've seen my work?' you continued to question him.

'Your latest one, yeah,' he confessed, his fingers trailing down your arm, 'I had heard your name a few times before, I knew you were pretty new but also rapidly gaining an impressive resume.'

'And you wanted to work with me because of my last movie? Because that was really just me exploring the industry a little further.'

'I figured,' Sihtric smiled and placed his hand on your thigh, 'but it was a good movie. And you're now the first girl who got to kiss Masema on screen.'

'That's a title I proudly earned,' you smiled, to which Sihtric laughed and leaned in closer.

'You know, I'm also not one to kiss in my movies,' he half whispered and circled your lips with his thumb, 'but I understand Masema, because you make it so damned tempting.'

You smiled a little shyly, which he enjoyed, and he moved even closer while you remained somewhat frozen.

'You can touch me, you know,' he purred with a flirty smile and took your hand to place it on his chest.

You giggled softly, and Sihtric lightly caressed your cheek with his fingers. You looked up at him for a moment, and then your eyes darted between his slightly parted lips and his eyes, which popped out because of his black eyeliner, and you immediately looked down at your hand on his chest after you noticed he saw you had looked at his lips.

'What's the matter?' he asked sweetly, 'getting shy? There's no reason for that. I'm sure you've seen my work, so we've seen each other naked already anyway, what else is there to be shy about?'

'I just struggle to not kiss you,' you confessed.

'Why do you want to kiss me so badly?' he asked with a smirk.

'Because you're cute,' you shrugged, 'and really good looking of course.'

'Well, so are you,' Sihtric half whispered, 'so in that case, maybe you could kiss me.'

'Can I?' you asked as you both leaned in closer, feeling his breath on your lips.

'You can, but you're getting me all nervous now,' he chuckled, 'it's been a while since I properly kissed someone.'

You smiled compassionately at him, hoping to ease his sudden nerves, and you moved your hands up to his neck as you leaned in to softly peck his lips. Another nervous chuckle escaped Sihtric as you pulled back to look at him, wanting to make sure that everything was fine with him, but the blush on his cheeks told you everything you needed to know without even asking, and you brought your lips back to his again.

'That okay?' you asked after a longer kiss.

'Mhm,' Sihtric hummed softly against your lips and moved his hands to your face, pulling you back in again for another tender kiss.

He pulled you in his lap, and you straddled him while you continued to kiss gently and slowly, while not lacking the intensity of that steamy kiss you had shared with Masema. Sihtric moaned softly into your mouth when the kiss deepened, and you became a little lightheaded when you felt his tongue piercing lightly grazing your lips and tongue.

'You good?' you asked after he broke the kiss for some air.

'Mhm, don't stop,' Sihtric breathed against your lips, and immediately snuck his tongue in your mouth again at the first opportunity.

His fingers slid under your short skirt, settling on your buttocks while you unbuttoned the rest of his flannel and pushed it down his shoulders. You felt the cold steel of his silver rings on your skin while you kissed his jaw and up to his earlobe, where you playfully tugged his dangling cross earring lightly with your teeth, before you kissed under his ear and down his neck.

Sihtric smiled and threw his head back on his couch, enjoying the way your lips felt on his skin a little more than he perhaps should, but you somehow made him feel so good, he relished in it.

He hooked his arms under your knees after a moment, and lifted you smoothly his arms as he got up, walking you over to his office desk which was located in front of the living room window, overlooking the rather shady neighbourhood from the third floor, and he took off his flannel as soon as he had sat you down. You bit down on your lip as you smiled, eyeing up his muscular and scarred torso before you placed your hand on the back of his neck and pulled him back in for another kiss while you wrapped your legs around his waist, locking him in.

'Tell me what you like,' Sihtric breathed against your lips, his hands roaming your body before taking off your shirt.

'Anything, handsome,' you laughed your signature cheeky laugh, which took Sihtric by surprise and he simply melted inside.

He smiled at you, his eyes half dazed while his lips were touching yours and his hand holding your face.

'Anything, baby?' he murmured playfully and then pushed your mini skirt further up, his fingers curled around the elastic band of your seethrough panties, 'that's not good enough for me though, I need to hear what you want.'

'Your cock,' you smiled and cupped his arousal through his black sweatpants.

'You want my cock?' he teased, 'hm, how badly?'

His warm and soft voice sent tingles down your spine while he held your face close to his, lips and noses touching as you both smiled at each other.

'Really badly,' you whispered seductively and lowered his sweatpants.

You attempted to pull down his boxers too, but Sihtric playfully slapped your hands away.

'Nah-ah,' he chuckled, 'it's my turn first,' he winked and dropped to his knees.

He pulled your panties down so fast you had no idea how he had done it, and before you could even adjust to the sudden change your legs were already upon his broad shoulders and his head between your thighs. He knew the script had more foreplay, but he also knew neither of you were sticking to the script in any way right now, except that you were sitting upon a desk and he was about to taste you.

You gasped when you felt him kiss and suck your clit lightly before he started to lick you, his piercing then hitting the right spot with every roll of his tongue. You squirmed at the feeling and fell back on his desk. His grip on you was loose and relaxed, he knew you weren't going to try and get away from him because the sounds you made told him you were enjoying yourself too much.

Your breath hitched in your throat at the feeling of his facial hair against your skin, and you couldn't stop smiling at the way he pleasured you so gently yet firm. You moved one hand down into his dark curls, and the vibration of his low and satisfying hums against your core made you squeal and tug his hair each time while you arched your back, much to Sihtric's own pleasure. He had you at his mercy so easily and he loved it. He wanted you to feel as good as it felt for him, and knowing he didn't even have to use his hands on you to make you feel this good stroked his ego and made him feel content too. He could get off by just pleasing you all night.

'Hm, please,' you mumbled, smiling, desperately needing more.

You pushed yourself up your elbows to look at Sihtric, but you immediately fell back down lightheaded after having locked eyes with him while he slowly teased you with the tip of his tongue and winked at you. You were left breathless and swore you saw stars after you laid back down again, and that was not just because you were looking out of the window.

'Just relax for me,' Sihtric cooed and moved up, leaning in over you and pressing his hard trapped cock against your folds while he took your chin, 'let me take care of you, please? A pretty girl like you deserves to be taken care of.'

'But what if I want to take care of you?' you asked with a slight pout.

'You're too pretty to get down on your knees for me,' Sihtric whispered with a soft smile, 'we can do that when we're filming. But I'm not letting you do that here, not this first time, okay, sweetheart?'

'O-okay,' you mumbled as he leaned his forehead against yours.

'Did you like that?' he asked, his lips touching yours with every word he spoke.

'Yeah,' you sighed dreamily, 'I really did.'

'Good,' he smiled, 'all I want is to make you feel good.'

He kissed you passionately and didn't stop until his cock became painful, desperate to be freed from his tight boxers so he carefully asked, 'You wanna fuck, baby?'

You nodded impatiently with your desperation for him clear in your eyes, to which he smiled. He wasn't sure what exactly he was feeling inside right now, as it was new but also pleasant and he wanted to chase it, so he lifted your chin with a tap of his index finger and he kissed you deeply again, wanting this moment to last while he took off your skirt.

He continued to kiss you while he pulled out his leaking cock, giving himself a few good strokes before teasing your entrance. He knew you were desperate and he wanted to see you smile, and it worked.

'Stop teasing,' you giggled with a soft whine.

You attempted to push his hand away so you could feel him inside you, but he didn't move. Instead, he wrapped his free hand lightly around your throat, smiling as he looked down into your eyes. He then moved his hand further up and tangled his fingers in your hair, giving you a firm tug to keep your eyes locked with his.

'Or what?' Sihtric asked sweetly.

'Stop it,' you laughed and slapped his chest playfully.

'Or what?' he dared you again with a smirk as he towered over you, then politely commanded, 'open your mouth for me.'

Without any hesitation you listened and opened your mouth for him, his grip still firm on the back of your head, and you allowed him to let his spit slowly drip from between his lips and down on your tongue. You gave him your cheeky smile as you thanked him, to which he kissed you in response, a little more heated than before. Once he broke the kiss he quickly covered your mouth with his hand, silencing you as he sheathed himself entirely inside you in one smooth movement.

'Ahh, fuck,' his words were dragged out with a low moan as he stilled inside you, letting you adjust to his size which stretched you the same pleasant way as Masema had done, and you never thought you'd ever feel this full again.

You tugged his hair firmly while your other hand squeezed his bicep, digging your nails into his skin as he began to slowly thrust into you. So slowly you felt every twitch of his cock with each stroke and your moans began to sound muffled as your mouth was still covered. Sihtric removed his hand and pushed you to lay back on his desk, he took your legs and threw both over one shoulder before he grabbed onto your waist and began fucking you with a pleasantly slow and steady pace.

Sihtric was never rough nor too soft, he had the perfect balance that wasn't fucking you senseless but also not something you'd consider making love, it was something pleasant inbetween the two. He fucked you deeply but with a certain passion, and nothing made him harder than knowing he was taking you in front of the window, in clear view of those who lived in the surrounding apartment buildings, who could see how good he made you feel without having to ravage you.

He leaned in occasionally, taking your face with one hand while he continued to thrust into you slow and deep as he kissed you and caught your soft moans in his mouth. You arched your back once he moved away from you, and he had his strong arm wrapped around your legs to keep them in place on his shoulder while he had one hand pressed down onto your stomach, feeling his cock inside you as he enjoyed how tight you felt in this position.

'You're making me cum so easily, sweet lady,' Sihtric huffed with a devilish yet soft smile.

'Then cum,' you breathed, wanting to feel his warmth spread inside you.

You looked up at him with alluring eyes, feeling dazed at the sight of his black curls sticking to his glistening face and the way his smiling lips were slightly parted, from which his soft moans and heavy breaths escaped. His eyes were hooded, his eyeliner still applied perfectly and his cheeks were a light rosy colour. He took his time with you, thrusting deep inside you so slow it made your head spin and you could only laugh your cheeky laugh in between your moans and gasps.

You experienced hard porn and soft porn, but this was neither of those. This was something entirely different, softer and slower than you'd ever felt before, and despite the slow pace it felt extremely intense you couldn't say anything that made sense. And the entire sight of you on his desk, looking like a beautiful mess as you fell apart for him while he was so gentle with you pushed Sihtric over the edge before he wanted to, but he couldn't help himself and spilled inside you with a heavy grunt. He continued thrusting into you through his own high, and he massaged your clit with his fingers to ensure your climax was just as intense and blissful as his had been when you came shortly after him.

You were left shaking on his desk, and as the adrenaline rush left your body you started to feel cold as you laid naked on his desk, while the window was slightly opened and the cool night's breeze touched your skin. Sihtric was fast to clean up and put on his boxers while you were gradually coming down from your high, and he noticed you were trembling once you finally sat up on his desk, completely naked.

'Hey,' Sihtric gently took your face as he positioned himself between your thighs again, 'are you okay?' he asked, concerned.

'Just… c-cold,' you chuckled, a little dazed still.

'Oh, sweetheart,' he whispered and quickly grabbed his flannel off the floor to drape it over your shoulders.

He then wrapped his arms around you and pressed your bare chest against his in an attempt to warm you as fast as he could, to which you smiled. You wrapped your arms around his waist, stealing his body heat, and you embraced like that for a long moment without exchanging a word, just enjoying each other's warmth, scent and touch. And Sihtric only broke the embrace to cup your cheek, so he could peck your lips sweetly, over and over again while he looked completely smitten.

'You never kiss, and yet now you can't stop?' you murmured.

He hushed you and smiled, then went in for another kiss but you teasingly backed away. Sihtric looked confused, but his smile returned quick enough once you leaned back in and nuzzled his nose softly.

'Kiss me,' he whispered pleadingly, and you kissed him passionately several times more.

'I could kiss you all night,' he murmured against your lips once you broke the kiss.

'You're too cute,' you giggled and then finally got dressed again.

You jumped off his desk and then held out his flannel to him.

'Keep it,' Sihtric smiled.

'Are you sure?'

'Yeah, it looks good on you.'

'Thanks,' you chuckled and put his flannel over your shirt, loving the way it was comfortably oversized and smelled exactly like him, 'so, you always rehearse scripts like this?'

'No,' Sihtric laughed, 'this, eh, really got out of hand. Sorry,' he blushed.

'Don't apologise. It was really nice,' you reassured him.

'I'm glad it was nice for you too,' he said, 'it's, eh, still kinda early in the evening I suppose. Do you want a drink or something, or maybe some food? I could order us something,' he mumbled almost shyly.

'Oh,' you sighed with a smile, 'that's so sweet, baby. But I think it's best if I get going.'

'Oh, y-yeah, of course,' Sihtric cleared his throat, knowing it wasn't very professional to ask you to stay for some crappy take-out meal, but he was disappointed regardless.

You grabbed your belongings and Sihtrc walked you to your car, where he took your hand before you could get in.

'Get home safe, okay?' he said, 'let me know you're home safe?'

'I will,' you kissed his cheek, and he then suddenly took your face and kissed your lips.

The kiss was long and passionate, until he abruptly pulled away with a shaky breath.

'Are you okay?' you asked, a little surprised.

'Yeah,' he sighed and gave you a weakened smile, then stopped you again as you attempted to get in your car, 'hey,' he said softly, 'don't… this line of work, it's- just promise you won't do anything against your will, okay?'

'I won't do anything I don't like,' you said, 'I promise.'

'Good,' Sihtric swallowed hard and lightly touched your face, 'you're just… you're too pure and too beautiful for this industry, sweetheart. Girls like you,' his voice trembled lightly, 'they get taken advantage of if they're not careful. Look after yourself, okay? And if you ever need anything or if there's trouble, you have my number, yeah?'

'I will be careful,' you promised and pinched his cheek to lighten his mood, which made him chuckle, 'I'll see you again soon, right?'

'I hope so.'

'I'll have my manager set up a day to shoot and all that,' you said, 'you'll hear from me.'

'Sure thing,' Sihtric said and finally allowed you to get in your car, and he then leaned on its roof while he looked down at you, 'and, well… you know where I live now. You're welcome anytime.'

'For sex you mean?' you chuckled.

'For anything, sweetheart,' he smiled and watched you start your car.

'You're too cute,' you smiled and waited for him to step away so you could close the door, but he didn't budge. 'Sihtric?' you snorted, 'I gotta close the door?'

'Oh, shit,' he laughed and pulled away, 'yeah, shit, sorry,' he stammered and then politely shut your car door and blew you a kiss before you hit the gas.

With an uneasy feeling in his stomach he watched you drive off and cursed himself for kissing you. Because he knew better than to kiss someone the way he had kissed you, and he shouldn't catch feelings for anyone in the same industry because it would always cause trouble. But he also knew it was already too late for him to not catch any feelings for you.

taglist: @foxyanon @alexagirlie @sihtricsafin @neonhairspray @gemini-mama

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if you want to be added to/deleted from the taglist, message me 🖤

#sihtric x reader #sihtric x you #sihtric kjartansson #the last kingdom #sihtric #tlk #sihtric fic #modern!sihtric #tlk au #sihtric au

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millenialfanfictionaddiction · 1 year

Text

Being Inarizaki’s Manager

Manager Defends Inarizaki

Inarizaki x Gn! manager

Warnings: swearing (?)

AN: this is a request from @plutoistireddd!

Being the manager for such a stoic team isn’t easy

They have high standards and literally work their butt off to fill them

They can be dramatic at times, namely two specific individuals 👀

So needless to say, finding you, our unbothered, calm angel was a blessing for these boys

Literally nothing rattles you

When Atsumu is aCtInG lIke a ToDdLeR you simply ignore him and move on

When the twins fight, you simply assure nobody else is in harms way and walk away 💅

You are probably the calmest person anyone has ever met

Kita, Aran, Omimi and Akagi adore you

Literally you provide the chill they need without the dramatics

Like when Atsumu gets all worked up, you simply say “Sumu you are literally the best high school setter in Japan right now, what do you have to worry about?”

Atsumu 👉🏻😐🤨 you’re right YN!

Literally there’s absolutely nothing that phases out sweet Yn

Onetime, you were walking back to the gym and the water bottle carrier broke, spilling water bottles and water all over the floor

The team thought “this is it, this is the one!”

Suna was ready with his phone 📱

Kita, Aran and Ginjima were ready to calm you down

But nope, you just shrugged and said “well now I won’t have to mop the floors tonight” as you went, grabbed a mop and cleaned up

The guys 👉🏻👁️👄👁️

Literally they were convinced nothing would ever break you

But what they didn’t realize is that their precious Yn had one weakness and they were too silly to see it

To outsiders, it was obvious how much you carried for your team

You would do anything in your power for them

You carried for them all like friends and family

So when Inarizaki made it to Nationals, their cheer section followed

And while you appreciated the support, you knew first hand how annoying and awful they could be

Sure they were supportive but they could also be huge jerks

During the game everything remained pretty neutral

When Riseki, our precious first year was up to serve and panicked, the crowd started in on him

That’s when your irritation started to grow

It had happened at other games but you we’re definitely reaching your limit

You tried your best to remain calm but it was difficult

During the final set, the crowd was all over the place

Boos and cheers were intermixed and your agitation only grew

“YN you ok?” Coach asked, noticing your balled up fist

You simply nodded, “trying to find your chi” as Hinata would put it 😂

When they twins quick was stopped by Hinata and Kageyama, you watched the ball fall as the boys frantically chased for it

You knew it was over and you knew what was about to happen

But unbeknownst to the team, you weren’t going to deal with it

Kita called for the boys to line up as you quickly followed

Akagi, Suna and Kita all watched you come to stand in front of the team

Your arms crossed and you stood in a power stance, protecting your boys

Suna was so mad he didn’t have his phone 😅

“ALRIGHT LISTEN UP!” You screamed as the crowded settled

The guys rn 👉🏻 🧍😐😳

“They boys played their hearts out and sure they have regrets but I swear, if I hear ONE BAD THINGS about them, I will personally ruin EVEDY SINGLE ONE of your pathetic lives! This is the time when our team needs support and if you can’t BE that support, then walk your butts right out that door and never come back!” You shout as the crowd all look at you

The team 👉🏻👁️💧👄💧👁️

The crowd 👉🏻😳🫣

The coaches 👉🏻😐😏

You 👉🏻🔥👄🔥

Suddenly the crowd starts applauding as the team stands there

“YN is right, these boys played a fantastic game?” Someone yelled

You nodded, happy with the outcome as you strolled off the court and to the sidelines, grabbing your stuff and heading out

The boys silently followed you, Kita in the lead as he spoke

“Umm YN,” he said

You turned around, putting your hand up to stop him

“Kita don’t thank me. I love you guys and I’ll do anything to protect you. You played your hearts out and while I’m sure you have regrets, that match was beyond amazing and well, today just happened to be Karasuno’s day,” you smiled as the boys all started to cry

You set your stuff down, going to hug them as a team

“I gotta say Yn, that was pretty badass,” Suna added

“I’m actually surprised it wasn’t Atsumu who finally broke you,” Osamu said

“Hey! I’m not that hard to deal with!” Atsumu said

“Oh you definitely are Sumu but we all just deal with it because we love you,” you say 🥰

Atsumu 👉🏻🥲 pain

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onceuponaoneshotfanfic · 1 year

Text

Sweet Nothing (Superstar Chapter 6)

They said the end is coming

Everyone's up to something

I find myself running home to your sweet nothings

Outside, they're push and shoving

You're in the kitchen humming

All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing

Roy and the Reader enjoy simple domestic bliss.

Roy Kent x Reader

8.3k words

Warnings: Language, mind-numbing fluff, an overprotective dad, allusions to smut

Wow, this came out kind of long! It was fun to write and I hope all this fluff was worth waiting for!

Keeley eyed me carefully as we ate lunch in my office, door closed to keep out all the men. After the Paris trip, we’d had a hard time synching up our schedules, so she’d finally cornered me and demanded a lunch date, kicking Roy out of the office in the process. We sat on the floor, shoes kicked off, stabbing at the salads she’d picked up for us.

“So, what about after the game?” she asked, eyebrows raised. “Did you join the boys’ clubbing? Jamie didn’t mention if you did.”

“Oh, no,” I admitted, taking a sip from my water bottle. “They asked me to, though.”

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Then why were you all dressed up?”

Suddenly, the tomato on the end of my fork looked really interesting and required all of my attention. “Who said I was dressed up?” I asked in my most disinterested voice.

“Only all the guys,” Keeley said with a giggle. “That little red number from the gala- you’re welcome by the way- and some heels with your hair all sexy.” She raised an eyebrow. “I think there’s a couple little crushes in that changing room, you know.” A smirk played on her lips. “Not as big as the one Roy has on you, of course,” she added.

I looked at the non-existent watch on my wrist. “Damn, is my lunch over already?”

“Come on,” she urged, giving me a friendly shove. “Where’d you go all dressed up?”

My story was ready to go. “Just went out exploring and wandering about. Found a nice little bar to sit in, read a bit on my phone.” I shrugged. “Nothing too exciting.”

“What about Roy?”

Once again, my salad was fascinating. “What about Roy? Didn’t he go out with the guys?”

“Nope,” Keeley answered, popping the “p” loudly. “You sure he didn’t join you at the bar?”

“He did not join me at the bar.”

You’re not lying, I thought to myself as I remembered our date at the Louvre, eating dinner with the Mona Lisa, followed by slow dancing in front of the statue of Cupid and Psyche. After that, we strolled around the museum, champagne in hand, gazing at the art. The whole time, I found myself wondering if I’d wake up back in my old room, its walls covered with Roy Kent, to discover the last four months had been a dream. Instead, I had woken up to find he’d run out to grab me a chocolate croissant for breakfast before the sun was up.

But Keeley didn’t need to know any of that right now.

Not that keeping Keeley in the dark was something I liked. Outside of a couple of my really good school mates, Keeley was quickly becoming my best friend. She was sweet, savvy, kickass and independent, and a great hype woman who made anyone feel like they could do anything. There was a part of me that was dying to grab her by the shoulders and scream, “I’m shagging Roy Kent and I think I’m in love with him!”. But I was loving the small bubble Roy and I were living in, where only Jamie Tartt knew about our existence and was threatened into silence. The little bubble where we were constantly holed up in my flat or his house, watching movies or making dinner together, drinking on his back porch and whispering sarcastic jokes late into the night, not having to answer anyone’s questions about how we got together or who liked who first or how someone like me got someone like him. No, thank you. Roy and I would stay in our happy little bubble for as long as it suited us.

“How do I look?”

I poked my head out of Roy’s bathroom to look at him. He was wearing- surprise, surprise- all black: black jeans, black shirt, black jacket.

“You look like Roy Kent,” I answered, running my brush through my hair. “Dunno why you’re so nervous. You’ve met them before. Don’t you remember my dad tackling you?”

Roy sighed and traded one black jacket for another nearly identical one. “Yeah, but that was as ‘Roy Kent, football legend’. This time it’s ‘Roy Kent, old man sneaking into your daughter's hotel room in Paris’.” He turned to me, waiting for my verdict on his outfit.

Tossing my brush on his bed, I strolled over to him and adjusted his jacket, fixing the neckline. “How about ‘Roy Kent, boyfriend who makes their daughter really happy’?” I offered.

A smile cracked through his nerves. “I like the sound of that guy.”

“Me too.” I kissed his cheek. “Now, let’s go so you can stop bugging me about my mum’s pasta.”

The drive to my parents’ was quieter than our usual car rides. It wasn’t hard to figure out why; Roy had already told me that he hadn’t met too many parents in his previous relationships. He was never really with someone long enough to reach that step, and the few times he did, it didn’t go great. He was especially embarrassed to talk about the mother who had propositioned him when her daughter was out of the room. Stories from Roy’s past made me sad sometimes; he’d had a hard time finding people who made him feel cared about for himself, not his skill or fame.

No wonder he clings to Phoebe and his sister, I had realized one day. I hoped my parents would join the apparently short list of people who made him feel special for just being Roy.

We easily found parking in front of my parents’ house and quickly made our way to the door. I carried a pie we’d picked up on the way over, and Roy held a bouquet of flowers he’d brought for my mum. As I unlocked the door, I glanced at him; he looked more nervous than the teenage boyfriends I’d brought home during my school days.

“Relax,” I whispered, planting a small pack on his cheek. “They already adore you.”

As if on cue, my mother yanked the door open, nearly ripping my arm off in the process. “We thought we heard something!” she greeted, ushering us in. She took the pie out of my hands as she kissed me on the cheek. “How was Paris?”

“Great,” I managed, closing the front door behind us. “The team won, and I got to check out the Louvre with Roy.” I shot Roy a knowing look, which seemed to relax him slightly. It also captured my mum’s attention.

“Roy, we’re so glad to have you over again,” she gushed, giving him a half hug that had him frozen in place.

When she pulled away, Roy cleared his throat and held out the flowers. “These are for you,” he stated, a bit stiffly. “I, uh, felt bad for interrupting your dinner last time without bringing anything so…” He trailed off, glancing at me as my mother took the flowers.

I slid my hand into his, giving it a small squeeze. “Where’s Dad?” I asked my mother, trying to put Roy at ease by taking some of the attention off him.

“Dad’s in the kitchen. Hope you don’t mind, we sent the boys to a friend’s house, so it’s just the four of us.”

Atta girl, Mum. My brothers were great boys, but they’d be positively tickled at the idea of having Roy Kent at their dinner table again and would probably be all over TikTok bragging about their “future brother-in-law” before we’d even had dessert. Just the four of us would mean that Roy could just be Roy, my boyfriend getting to know my parents, not Roy Kent, football legend and my lifelong crush.

My dad greeted Roy with a firm handshake, much calmer than the last time he’d seen us together. “How’re you doing, Roy?” he asked in a detached voice, as if he hadn’t been smothering the guy in the entryway just a few months ago.

“Good, sir,” Roy answered, more nervous than I’d ever seen him. “Yourself?”

Dad nodded, letting go of Roy’s hand. “Fine, thanks.” He quickly led us to the dining room, where Mum had clearly gone all out.

On the table was my parents’ best China that usually only came out when my dad’s boss visited or for my gran’s birthday, and there was a bottle of wine that I knew was twice as expensive as the kind they normally drank. Much to my relief, they (most likely Mum) had had the foresight to tuck away any embarrassing photos from my awkward teenage phase as well as that one photo my dad had of an extremely drunk me on my 21st birthday kissing my Roy Kent cardboard cutout, which currently laid flat under my bed at home, where Roy would hopefully never find it.

Roy pulled out my chair for me and then took the same seat he’d been in the night of my dad’s birthday. He shot me an awkward glance; God, this man had played in the freaking World Cup, yet here he was, jiggling his leg and blushing like a schoolboy on his first date.

Fuck, he must really like me, I thought to myself, feeling a bit stupid at such an obvious revelation. Of course Roy liked me; we spent every free moment we could together and when we couldn’t, we were constantly texting or calling each other. Heck, he’d even started using the Snapchat account Ted had made him sign up for so he could send me pictures of his uncle-niece dates. The man was clearly smitten, and the feeling was completely, totally, absolutely mutual.

My mother urged us to load our plates with pasta and salad, which Roy did not need to hear twice. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed that he didn’t start eating until I’d taken my first bite; a gentlemanly gesture I’d never had a boyfriend do.

Once we’d all served ourselves food and wine and begun eating, my dad cleared his throat. “So how long… er, when did…” He gestured to the two of us. “When’d this start?”

I shot Roy a glance as I sipped the suddenly very necessary wine; his face had gone a little pale. Apparently I’d have to field this question myself. “Actually, when Roy popped by on your birthday,” I admitted. “Believe it or not, he saw all the posters in my room and didn’t run away.” I took Roy’s hand under the table and gave it a squeeze. “Since it was painfully obvious that I liked him, he asked me out the following weekend, and we made things official about…” I glanced at Roy, doing math in my head.

“A month ago,” he finished for me promptly, a shine in his eyes. “We went to this fundraiser thing hosted by the club owner and…” He trailed off with a shrug. “Dunno, we talked, realized we like being together, and made it official.” His eyes shifted to my dad, as if Roy was hoping he’d be okay with all this.

My dad was staring at Roy with an intensity I’d never seen in my life. Part of me could understand my dad’s hesitation to be as enthusiastic as my mum about this relationship; Roy had about a decade on me (though honestly, neither of us felt it), his temper on and off the pitch was nothing short of legendary, and, thanks in part to my stalker-like tendencies, my dad knew quite a bit about the rotation of gorgeous women who made up Roy’s dating history. During his last visit, Roy had just been someone I shared an office with, so Dad could fawn over him without a second thought. Now, Roy wasn’t just some girlhood crush on my walls, but a real, viable romantic partner. The concept must have been a bit terrifying for the father of an only daughter.

After the longest minute of my life, my dad spoke directly to Roy. “And you… you like my daughter?”

Based on his wide-eyed stare, Roy was not prepared for such a blunt question. “Oh. Um, yeah, of course, I really fucking like her.” Somehow his eyes grew wider. “Shit. Sorry. I mean-” He screwed his eyes shut and let out a tiny growl. With a sigh, he opened his eyes again. “Yes, I like your daughter. A lot.”

Dad didn’t seem ready to let up. “And you treat her well?”

Roy shrugged. “I’d like to think so. I respect her and try to make sure she knows I care about her more than I’ve ever cared about anyone. I like making her laugh. And once she decides she’s sick of keeping us gaffers in line, I’ll support her whatever she ends up doing.”

My dad stared at Roy hard, his jaw set. Come on Dad, ease up, I prayed. Go back to worshipping the grass this man walks on. Remember the way you sobbed when he walked off the field during his last game. Remember how much you want me to be happy. Please.

Finally, my dad nodded slowly. “Alright then. Thank you for your honesty, Roy.” He took a long sip of his wine as the rest of the table stared at him expectantly. At last, he set down his glass. “So, how d’you think the Greyhounds’ odds are for avoiding relegation this season?”

And that was it. The rest of the evening was a blur of laughter and stories and Roy getting second and third helpings of my mum’s pasta. By the time my mum brought out the pie, Roy and my dad had made plans to grab a drink later in the week to watch a football game together and my mum had promised to have us over for dinner again the following week. Roy’s face was full of relief as my mum gave him a hug and my dad shook his hand warmly.

“Was that so bad?” I teased once we were settled in the car.

He shrugged as he started the car, not hiding his smile. “I had a good time. Your parents are pretty great.”

I cleared my throat, keeping my eyes on the road. “Sorry about my dad, though. Not sure what came over him when we sat down.”

“Oh, come on,” he scoffed. “You’re his only daughter. I’m an old man who has something of a reputation. Can’t blame him for not loving the idea of us together.” His voice was thoughtful. “But I hope he believes me when I say I really fucking care about you.” He took my hand. “And I hope you believe it too.”

I turned to look at Roy, who was already glancing at me. “I do,” I assured him. “And I really care about you too.”

Turning his gaze back to the road, Roy nodded. “Good.” He paused for a moment, clearly thinking hard about something. “Just… please don’t tell your dad about our sleepovers. Because with my shit knee, he may be able to outrun me.”

“Oh no, Roy. He could definitely outrun you.”

“Here you go, dear.”

“Thanks, Rose,” I murmured, taking my drink from her. I turned back to Roy. “Alright. Now you can tell me about practice.”

Roy sipped his beer. “Actually, I had something I’ve been thinking about lately that I wanted to ask you about.”

I tilted my head at him. “Anything wrong?”

“Well…” Roy bobbled his head a bit. “Just thinking about how unfair it is that I’ve met your family twice now, but you haven’t met mine.” He glanced at me, playful suspicion in his eyes. “Unless you’re one of those women who thinks it should be all your family all the time and my family can go fuck off a cliff?”

Puzzled but intrigued, I leaned forward. “Absolutely not. Did you have something in mind?”

He tapped the side of his beer bottle. “’ve been promising Phoebe I’d take her to see this fucking stage production of The Sound of Music on Friday. Take her out to ice cream or some shit after. You want to join us?”

While he spoke in that disinterested voice he often used, I could sense the apprehension beneath it. He wanted me to say yes so badly, to be excited to meet the most important person in his life. To be interested in every part of his life, not just football. This would be a key moment in our relationship, and Roy obviously knew it.

“That sounds great,” I gushed, taking his hand. “If I’m being honest, I’ve really been looking forward to meeting Phoebe.”

“She’s dying to meet you too, actually.” He rolled his eyes, as if he wasn’t talking about his precious little niece who was the absolute light of his life. “Been bugging the shit out of me about it ever since I first told her about you.”

A flutter ran through my heart. “You talk about me to Phoebe?”

“Fucking course. Don’t tell her, but that little idiot’s probably my best friend.”

“Don’t let Jamie hear you say that,” I warned with a grin. “He’ll get jealous.”

Predictably, Roy bared his teeth at me. “I’ve told you a million fucking times, Jamie Tartt is not my best friend. He’s not even my friend. I fucking hate that prick. I want to cut his face off and hang it up as a Halloween decoration so I don’t have to pass out candy to fucking trick or treaters.”

“Wow, your best man speech at Jamie’s wedding is gonna suck.”

Despite his best attempt at annoyance, I could see the grin Roy was trying to fight. “Do I have to do that shit where I kiss you just to shut you up?”

I shrugged. “Can’t guarantee it’ll work. But you’re very welcome to try.”

Work that Friday seemed to go in slow motion. It took all my restraint to stop myself from asking Roy a million questions about Phoebe, what she liked, what she knew about me (about us, really), how to make a good impression on her. Instead, I scurried around making sure Ted had a Spanish-to-English dictionary available for a Zoom call he had late in the day and giving Rebecca a non-answer when she asked about my weekend plans.

Finally, Roy and I packed up our things and hopped into his still ridiculous car, stopping at his place to change into what he told me Phoebe called “fancy theatre clothes” before finally going to his sister’s place to pick up Phoebe.

Shit, is this how Roy felt at my parents’? I asked myself as I shook Dr. O’Sullivan’s hand. Of course, I knew her face from the photos of her at Roy’s place, but God, she was beautiful in person. And the smile she wore told me that Roy had definitely mentioned me at least once or twice.

“Is Phoebe fucking ready or what?” Roy sighed after introductions had been made.

“Uncle Roy! Uncle Roy!”

A blur of blonde and pink launched itself at Roy, nearly toppling him over. Phoebe clung to her uncle and gazed up at him, her face full of that love that a small child had for her hero. My entire body melted at the sight of this little girl in a pink dress hugging him tight. Feeling like I was being watched, I glanced over at Roy’s sister, who was looking at me with a pensive expression. We exchanged soft smiles before both turning our attention back to Phoebe.

Roy crouched by Phoebe, ignoring the small crack coming from his leg as he did so, and gestured towards me. “Phoebe, this is-”

Before Roy could finish, Phoebe hurled herself at me, giving me a tight hug. “Oh my gosh. I’m so excited to finally meet you!” Her smile was infectious. “My uncle Roy really likes you.”

“No shit, Phoebe,” Roy growled. “Let’s get going. If you make me miss the opening song, I’ll leave you there and you can become another Von Trapp brat.”

During the ride to the theater, Phoebe asked me a million questions: about my job, my friends, my family, my flat, and what I thought the best ice cream flavors were. In turn, I learned about her school, her friends, her mother, which of her stuffed animals were her favorite, and all the things she loved about her Uncle Roy. By the time we’d found our seats in the theatre, Phoebe was holding my hand like we were the best of friends and begging Roy to let her sit next to me, since he got to sit next to me in the car.

“It’s only fair,” I pointed out to Roy, who smiled and rolled his eyes in that goofy way that made my knees go weak.

The first act of the show was as wonderful as I expected. Phoebe was entranced the entire time, and on her other side I could see Roy mouthing along to every song. We locked eyes a few times, especially when Maria and Captain von Trapp were onstage together. Each time we exchanged bashful smiles, as if we were kids with crushes rather than two adults in a fairly serious relationship.

At intermission, we found seats in the lobby. Roy headed to the line at the bar to get us something to drink, leaving Phoebe and I alone.

“Are you enjoying the show?” I asked, offering her my softest smile.

“Very much,” she said. “Uncle Roy’s made me watch the film about a million times, so we know all the songs. Do you like it?”

I nodded. “It’s one of my favorite movies, too. Can I tell you a secret?” Phoebe nodded earnestly, clearly excited to learn something so important. “I nearly always cry when Maria and Captain von Trapp admit they love each other.”

Phoebe giggled good-naturedly. “My uncle Roy reminds me of Captain von Trapp. Always yelling, but he’s really very nice.” She gazed up at me, a pondering look on her little face before she broke into a huge grin. “I guess that makes you Maria!” My tongue was suddenly too tied to reply, so she continued. “You know, Uncle Roy talks about you all time.”

Clearly, this was the topic Phoebe was most interested in. “And what does your Uncle Roy say about me?” I asked, humoring her.

“Well, the first time he talked about you, he was telling my mum that you had started working at Richmond and he was kind of mad that he had to share his office with you. But then Mummy asked if you were pretty, and he told her to shut up, but he was smiling.” She thought for a moment. “He also says you’re very nice and very smart and that the team would fall apart without you. And he told me that being nice to you is very important because you’re his girlfriend.” She glanced down at her sparkly shoes. “Uncle Roy never introduces me to his girlfriends.”

Part of me knew I should change the subject, but the part of me that turned into a giggling teenage girl whenever I thought about Roy couldn’t resist. “No?”

She shook her little head as she looked back up at me. “No. But my mum says you’re different. She thinks Uncle Roy is going to marry you someday. Would you let me be your flower girl?”

Before I could manage a response, Roy appeared, holding three glasses. “Here. Shirley Temples.” He handed one to each of us. “Don’t fucking spill on your dress,” he warned Phoebe. He sat down beside me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. “What were you two chatting about?”

Of course, Phoebe pipped up before I could open my mouth. “Our favorite songs in the play. Mine’s The Lonely Goatherd.”

“That’s a shit choice,” Roy snorted.

While he went on a rant about why Edelweiss was a perfect song, I turned my gaze to Phoebe, who was already smiling up at me knowingly. Something in my heart warmed with the realization that I had made a new little friend.

The rain pitter-pattered against the window as I folded the laundry I’d managed to avoid for a couple of days. Some cheesy movie played on the television, more for background noise than anything else. My mind was occupied with thoughts of the weekend before, when we’d taken Phoebe on our second outing together: the zoo. She’d been thrilled to hold both our hands and explain everything she knew about each animal; she was especially excited to tell me all about how her Uncle Roy reminded her of the giant gorilla in its enclosure when it banged on the glass.

As if he knew I was thinking about him, Roy interrupted my thoughts with a phone call.

“Hey,” I greeted casually, pretending my heart didn’t skip a beat every time his name lit up my mobile screen.

“What’re you up to today?” he asked in lieu of a greeting.

I lowered the volume on the television. “Told you, I’m having my girlfriends over to have a proper catchup and grabbing drinks with them. I haven’t seen them since before Paris and I feel like I’ve been a shit friend since I started at Richmond.” Since you decided to take up my every waking thought.

“That’s not til tonight, right?”

Onscreen, the two romantic leads began their big blowout argument that threatened to break them up. “Yeah. But I’ve gotta tidy up a bit.” My curiosity got the better of me. “Why?”

“Got an errand to run and wanted your help.”

My curiosity increased. “What sort of errand?” I tucked my mobile between my face and shoulder so I could resume folding.

Roy sighed. “Phoebe’s been bugging her mum about getting a fucking dog, but there’s no fucking way my sister has time for one. So, I was thinking I might as well go down to the pound and get one myself so she can shut up already.”

I scoffed. “I’m sorry, you’re going to adopt a dog just to make your adorable little niece happy?”

There was a pause on Roy’s end. “Yes. That a problem?”

A smile crept across my face. “No. Just trying to figure out what Nora Ephron movie you walked out of.”

“Fuck you.” I could hear Roy’s smile through the phone. “You take that shit back.”

“Nope,” I insisted, my grin growing. “Sorry, you’re a regular Billy Crystal now.”

Now he scoffed, clearly offended. “Billy Crystal? Really? Can’t I at least be Tom fucking Hanks?”

Damn, I love a man who knows his rom-com leads. “If it’ll make you happy, fine. You’re Tom Hanks. Congrats.” I remembered the reason for Roy’s call. “So, why’re you asking me to go with you to get the dog? Not that I mind, but shouldn’t it be Phoebe? She’s the reason you’re getting one to begin with.”

There was a long pause on Roy’s end. With a deep breath, he mumbled, “Well, I kind of wanted to surprise her the next time she comes over. And I also kind of figured… I dunno, you’re my girlfriend and you’re here all the time, you’re gonna see the fucking dog a lot, I wanna make sure you like it too.” He paused a moment. “You could even help me name it and shit. If I let Phoebe name it, I’ll have a dog called Princess Sparkle Rainbow or something equally fucked.”

It wasn’t a big request; just go help Roy pick out a dog, maybe pop in a pet shop to get toys and food and a collar, talk him out of naming it “Fuckface” or some name Phoebe wouldn’t be allowed to say. An easy Saturday morning. If anyone else in the world was asking, it’d be an easy “Sure” and I’d have my shoes on already. But because it was Roy asking, the invitation to join him felt heavier, like it held some meaning other than “Come keep me company”. He wanted my opinion on this multi-year commitment he was making to whatever dog he found; that meant he expected me to stick around for a while, right?

Maybe Phoebe wasn’t so off base when she divulged her mother’s thoughts about Roy and me.

“Sure, Roy,” I answered after what was probably too long of a pause. “I’d love to help you pick a dog.”

Half an hour later I heard that familiar knock at my door. When I opened it, Roy immediately leaned forward to peck my cheek before he entered my flat, twirling his keys in his hand.

“You ready then?”

I nodded, closing the door behind him. “Just need to grab my shoes.” He lingered near the door as I quickly ran to my room to put on some trainers. When I came back, Roy was snickering to himself. “What?”

He shrugged, trying to compose himself. “Nothin’. I just really like your sweatshirt.”

Confused, I glanced down. Dark blue AFC Richmond sweatshirt, one of a million I’d collected over the years. This one, my usual go-to, was pretty simple, with just a small Richmond logo above my heart. It wasn’t like Roy hadn’t seen me wear one a million times at this point, especially on game days.

“The fuck are you on about?” I asked, feeling like I was missing an obvious joke.

Biting his lip, Roy grabbed my arm and pulled me close. “It’s honestly kinda hot seeing you wear my name.”

Oh. Despite the sweater being my favorite, I had found it that morning hung in the back of my closet, untouched in quite a while. Now it made sense why: Roy’s last name and number were emblazoned on the back in large white letters. I hadn’t even noticed when I tugged it on after my shower, especially since I had no plans to see Roy that day.

My cheeks warmed with the reminder that not too long ago, I was just an adoring fan. But Roy’s tightening grip on me brought me back to the moment.

“I’ll just go change really quick,” I breathed, trying to focus on anything but Roy’s hand that had moved firmly to the small of my back.

He shook his head, eyes burning into mine. “Absolutely fucking not. I like seeing my name on you.”

I managed an awkward chuckle. “Come on, Roy. Me wearing your name while I’m out with you in public might be asking for a little bit of trouble, hmm? All it takes is one picture and bam, front page of some rag tomorrow morning.”

Roy stared at me for a moment, his grip softening slightly on my back. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Was that a tinge of disappointment in his voice? If it was, he quickly recovered, adding, “That sweater should be your new pyjamas at my place. Let me see you in it more often.”

“Deal,” I agreed, kissing his cheek before dashing my room to put on a more inconspicuous sweater.

In the car, Roy told me all about Phoebe’s great longing for a dog. She was constantly looking up photos of different kinds of dogs, only wanted dog stuffed animals when out shopping, and had a very long list of possible dog names scribbled in her diary. Despite his ever-constant scowl, I could see the delight in Roy’s eyes when he talked about how “fucking feral” his niece would go once he introduced her to the dog.

At the shelter, Roy got plenty of double takes from employees, but he ignored them, completely focused on the pups in their kennels. He paused in front of one and knelt down beside it. After staring intensely into the crate for a moment, he waved for me to join him.

“What d’you think?”

The medium-sized dog was clearly a mix of about a few different breeds and his black fur looked like he desperately needed a wash. More importantly, his eyes were bright and eager, and he jumped as best he could in his confinement as he gazed at Roy.

I couldn’t help my smile. “I think this might be him.”

An older employee brought us and the dog to a small side yard where we could see him outside the kennels. He immediately jumped on Roy, licking his hands with excitement. Then he turned his attention to me, laying his paws on my thighs. For about five minutes, Roy and I tossed around a toy, watching the dog run around to find it and bring it back to one of us.

After the millionth successful round of fetch, the employee spoke up. “It’s amazing, he’s usually a bit of a grouch. Not aggressive,” she clarified. “But he’s not usually this friendly.” She smiled at us. “He must like you two.”

I turned to Roy, who was on the ground with the dog. “So? You want to take him?”

He gazed up at me as he scratched the dog behind his ears. “Do you like him?”

From the look in Roy’s eye, I knew the answer to that question mattered just as much- maybe even more- than what Roy himself thought of the dog. The idea caused my heart to skip a beat, another reminder that I really mattered to this man.

“I kind of love him already,” I admitted with a chuckle, reaching down to give the dog a pet. “But it’s your choice.”

He nodded, a smile slowly forming. “Yeah, I think he’s the one.”

We spent another five minutes sitting on the grass with the dog, tossing names back and forth, rejecting classics like Max or Fido, deciding against naming him after any footballers, and me forbidding Roy from using any swear words in the name.

Finally, I felt the lightbulb switch on in my brain. “Oscar.”

Roy furrowed his thick eyebrows. “Oscar?”

“For Oscar the Grouch,” I explained, as if it were obvious. “Phoebe told me the two of you always joke that you’re basically Oscar the Grouch. And this guy is supposed to be a grouch, but he loves us. Just like-” I stopped, knowing the next words that almost tumbled out:

Just like how you’re a grouch, but you love me.

Right?

Roy nodded, understanding what I meant. “Oscar,” he murmured. He patted the dog on its side. “What d’you think, fella? Feel like you can live with being called Oscar?”

Immediately, the dog sat down, gazing at Roy expectantly.

“Guess his name’s Oscar,” Roy agreed, his smile widening as he looked at me.

By the time we bought everything Oscar would need for his first few days at home and I helped Roy set his house up, I had to hurry home and finish getting my flat ready for my friends. Roy drove me home and walked me up, his arm wrapped lazily around my shoulders.

“Thank you again,” he said once we reached my door. “I really appreciate you helping me find Oscar. I think Phoebe’s going to fucking love him.” He leaned against the wall, looking at me carefully. “So, your friends are coming over, huh?”

I nodded, fiddling with my keys. “Yeah, we’re going to meet here, then head out to grab a drink. It’ll be nice to catch up with each other.” I shoved Roy playfully. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell them about how Roy Kent and I have regular sleepovers.”

He stared at me for a long moment, then let out a small huff of a laugh. “Hmm. Yeah, guess you shouldn’t.” His eyes lingered again. “Why don’t I pick you up from the bar once you’re finished? You can spend the night. Help me with Oscar tomorrow.”

“Oh, Roy, I dunno what time we’ll be done, I couldn’t ask-”

“I want you to ask,” he interrupted bluntly. “I don’t want you driving home if you’ve been drinking or getting a ride from someone who has. And I don’t want you taking a fucking Uber when you have a boyfriend who is more than willing to give you a ride home. Even if you make fun of my car.” He held my chin tenderly. “Alright?”

I melted into his touch, unable to look away from the look of intense affection in his eyes. Roy Kent wants to take care of me. And I wanted to let him.

“Alright,” I whispered bashfully, trying not to grin too hard. I stood on tiptoe and gave him a small kiss. “I’ll call you when I’m ready to come home.” I paused. “I mean, when I’m ready to be picked up.”

He nodded. “Good.” He gave me one more quick kiss. “Be safe, alright?”

Of course I’d be safe. It was just me and two of my close friends from school, women I’d known for what felt like forever. I had just tucked away a photo of Roy and me in Paris when I heard a commotion outside my door. When I opened it, I was tackled from both sides- Carly and Allison.

We squealed like children as we hugged and chattered about how good each other looked and how mad we were that we’d gone so long without hanging out together. We sat on my couch for a bit, gossiping about old schoolmates and the things they overshared on social media, before finally getting up and piling into Allison’s car to find a pub not too far from my place. Once we had settled a high-top table, drinks in front of us, we were ready to properly catch up.

“So, how’s life at Richmond?” Allison asked, emphasizing the team name the way all our dads always did. “The team’s actually winning these days!”

I shook my head. “It’s amazing. Believe it or not, the American knows what he’s doing. And he’s honestly the nicest guy in the world.”

Carly leaned forward, clearly already feeling her drink. “And is Jamie Tartt really that pretty in person?”

A snort caught in my throat. “Oh, Jamie’s beautiful,” I assured her. “And his very serious girlfriend Keeley is otherworldly gorgeous and the kindest person I’ve ever met. Sorry.”

Allison nudged me. “Who’s single, then? Because I am obsessed with Dani Rojas. That accent, that hair.” She fanned herself with a napkin.

“Or what about Isaac McAdoo? The things I would let that man do to me…” Carly purred.

I couldn’t help laughing. “Oh God. I’ve seen these guys puke after being run too hard at practice or with bloody noses because someone kicked a ball wrong or playing a game of ‘the floor is lava’ in the changing room or drooling in their sleep on the way home from away games. These are not sexy to men to me.”

“Oh, I know what the problem is,” Allison hummed, shooting me a wink. “She’s got eyes for a certain coach.”

My cheeks warmed. “Dunno what you’re talking about,” I answered, taking a sip of my drink and hoping I looked casual.

Allison rolled her eyes. “Come off it, we’ve all seen the shrine. Hell, I bought you some of those posters.”

“If you marry him, you’ll be just like Princess Kate with her William poster!” Carly giggled.

I turned to Carly. “You know Kate said that never actually happened, right?” I asked, trying to shift focus.

Allison caught my game. “Don’t change the subject! Come on, give us the details. Does Roy Kent, love of your life, know you exist?” She shot me a playful wink.

Despite my flushing face at the sound of his name, I snorted. “He better fucking know I exist, we share an office. We eat lunch together almost every day.”

“What’s he like?” Carly asked dreamily.

I paused. I couldn’t tell them about us dating, but surely that didn’t mean I couldn’t tell them about the Roy Kent I knew. “He’s… surprising,” I finally murmured. “He’s actually very kind and thoughtful. Like if he grabs himself breakfast on his way to work, he usually brings me something. He’s got this little niece he absolutely dotes on, and she positively worships him. And fuck, Roy Kent was a great athlete, but I can’t even begin to describe him as a coach. The man’s kind of brilliant but refuses to take any credit for the team’s success. And he’s funny as hell. Very sharp and witty.” I stopped, realizing that I was completely gushing at this point.

My friends stared at me with looks filled with a mix of surprise, fondness, and a bit of pity.

Allison finally spoke. “Fuck, this goes beyond the posters and teenage idol worship. You’re actually in love with the man.”

I rolled my eyes. “Stuff it. So, I’m a bit attracted to him, big whoop. People get little crushes on their coworkers all the time and do nothing about it. It’s not a big deal.” We’re just in a full-blown relationship. No big deal.

“But most people don’t work with someone they have twenty-seven posters of in their bedroom,” Allison pointed out, giggling over her drink.

Carly sat up. “Twenty-eight,” she corrected. “Don’t forget the shirtless poster in her closet that she was hiding from her dad.”

My jaw dropped at the betrayal from my friends. “You’re both off your rockers,” I scoffed. “Roy Kent’s a nice guy, we’re friends, end of story.”

Somehow, I managed to get the girls to find other topics to focus on. At some point I lost count of how many drinks we’d had; it was easy to lose track when having fun with friends. Once I could feel our energy start to fade, I took out my mobile and shot Roy a quick text telling him where I was.

On my way, he answered.

Once our tab was paid, we headed out of the pub, with me assuring my friends that I had a ride, hoping they would assume I had ordered an Uber. They wouldn’t be thinking that once we actually stepped outside, though.

There was Roy, leaning against his stupidly giant black car, looking every bit like my personal teenage fantasy in his tight black jeans with his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. His face lit up when he saw me, as if I were a Victoria’s Secret model and not his girlfriend stumbling out of a pub.

“Need a ride?” he called out casually; he knew exactly how sexy he looked and was really leaning into it. Prick.

The amount of alcohol in my system was enough to make me forget everything except how fucking happy I was to see him. I ran at Roy and jumped on him, enveloping him in a giant hug. He chuckled and wrapped an arm around me casually, mumbling “Fucking hello to you, too” into my hair.

My friends’ faces were a jumble of shock, giddiness, and a giant helping of confusion. Their eyes darted back and forth between Roy and me, waiting for some sort of explanation.

Keeping his arm around my shoulder even after I’d let go of him, Roy offered the smallest of smiles to my friends. “Hi. ’m Roy.” He gave a little wave, as if they somehow had no clue who he was. He nodded towards me. “I’m giving this one a ride home if that’s alright.”

Mouths slightly agape, the girls nodded. Still feeling tipsy, I waved to them. “G’night!” As Roy opened the door and placed his hand on my waist to help me into the car, I looked up at him, a dopey, lovesick expression on my face. “Roy?”

“Hmm?” His smile was softer than I’d ever seen it.

“You know I exist, right?”

He nodded, looking at me like I was some magical thing instead of a very sloshed woman. “Yes, I know you exist. Now get in the fucking car before I have to throw you in, hmm?”

Roy managed to get me in the car and then managed to not kick me out of it despite my incessant talking the entire ride back to his place. Instead, he walked me inside and helped me change into one of his sweaters, the one I loved to sleep in. While he changed himself into his sweats, I sat cross-legged on the floor, petting a very sleepy Oscar, now drunkenly explaining to Roy why Paul McCartney was the best Beatle.

As I expressed how much I loved “I Saw Her Standing There”, Roy joined me on the floor, watching me with admiration in his eyes. He absently rubbed Oscar behind the ears, nodding and offering small “Uh-huhs” from time to time.

“You going to kiss me so I can fucking shut up already?” I joked, realizing that he’d never let me go uninterrupted for this long.

Instead, he shook his head. “Nah. I like listening to you.” He paused, his face turning thoughtful. “I really fucking like listening to you.”

I leaned forward and kissed his face. “Thanks,” I murmured, my body now buzzing from the look in his eye rather than the alcohol.

His face screwed up, like he was debating something. “I love you, you know,” he finally breathed. “Like, I really fucking love you.” His shoulders tensed as he stared at me, waiting for me to say something, anything.

Roy Kent loves me. Roy fucking Kent loves me. Roy Kent fucking loves me.

“Holy shit. I love you too,” I blurted, my heart hammering. I blinked a few times. “Wait, you really said that right? I’m not just that drunk?”

Roy’s entire body relaxed, and he laughed so loud he made Oscar jump. “Yeah, I really fucking said that, you sloshed little muppet.” He leaned forward and planted a kiss on my lips. “I love you,” he mumbled against my mouth. “I absolutely fucking love you.”

When I woke up the next morning, Oscar was in his bed, but Roy wasn’t in his. With a small hum, I got up and headed downstairs, where I found Roy sitting on the couch and reading. He gave a small salute when I walked in with the dog at my heels.

“Mornin’,” he greeted, scooting over so I could sit beside him. He pecked my cheek. “Sleep well?”

Despite my giant yawn, I nodded. “Yourself?”

“I always sleep well when you’re here,” he answered nonchalantly, eyes returning to his book. “You hungry?”

I shook my head. “Could go for some tea though.”

He started to get up. “Let me put the kettle on.”

“I’ve got it,” I insisted, standing back up. “You keep reading-” I glanced at the title. “The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe?”

“Phoebe roped me into her fucking book club,” he grumbled, turning the book so he could glance at the yellow lion on the cover. “We’re doing the whole series. You want in?”

I chuckled. “Sure.” As I turned to head to the kitchen, he grabbed my arm.

“Hey,” he said softly, looking up at me. “I love you.”

Color flooded my cheeks as I smiled down at him. “I love you too.”

He nodded. “Just… wanted to make sure you heard me say it when you’re sober.” He leaned back and returned to his book. “Go on, then.” His eyes flickered up playfully as I made my way into the kitchen put some water on. While I waited for the water, I could hear ping ping ping from the next room.

“No fucking shit,” I could hear Roy exclaim.

Curious, I grabbed my own mobile and looked at it. Despite it being early on Sunday morning, there were several texts on the thread between Ted, Beard, Rebecca, Roy, and myself.

We got Vargas!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The following messages were all emojis and gifs sent by Ted, a simple thumbs-up emoji from Beard, and several smiley faces from Rebecca. I rushed into the living room, where Roy was gazing at his mobile. He raised his eyebrows at me.

“This is fucking huge,” he said. “I mean, this deal was more Beard’s doing, I don’t know fuck all about the guy, but my understanding is that Vargas is supposed to be a big fucking deal very fucking soon.”

I nodded, scrolling through the still-incoming texts. “I can tell,” I chuckled. My mind was already running, thinking about all the things I’d have to get done on Monday: helping Keeley schedule a press conference, making sure Will was on top of things in the changing room, getting Ted a new Spanish-English dictionary, because goodness knows he’d already lost the one I’d just bought him.

As if he could feel my to-do list building in my head, Roy waved me over. “Get over here,” he grumbled. “We’re gonna have a fucking busy week, so let’s just be lazy today, yeah?”

A lazy day with Roy. Roy, who drove me home when I was drunk and wanted me to help pick his dog. Roy who loved me.

“That sounds great,” I agreed with a smile. “Let me just grab my tea.”

Once I had my cup in hand, I settled back onto the couch, tossing my legs over Roy’s lap. Oscar settled himself on the rug, clearly satisfied with his new living arrangements. Outside, I could hear the rain begin to pitter-patter as Roy rested a hand comfortably on my shin. A perfect, lazy day indeed.

“Oi, I picked you up one of those fucking rags when I was at the shop the other day,” Roy muttered, nodding towards the coffee table. “Clerk looked at me funny, the prick.”

I snorted and leaned forward to grab it. “Thank you for your sacrifice,” I retorted, flipping the gossip magazine open. We sat in happy silence as I turned the pages. Suddenly, a photo caught my eye, the sight making me choke on my tea.

Roy eyed me with mild concern. “Alright there?”

“Er, yeah.” I nodded. “I just, uh, I figured out where I know Dario Vargas from.”

“Oh?” Roy could not be less interested.

I folded the page back and handed the magazine to Roy. “I’ve seen him in paparazzi photos before. With his girlfriend.”

There, in full color, was a photograph of who I could only assume with Dario Vargas, with a sickeningly gorgeous woman on his arm. Below them was a simple caption: Football star Dario Vargas out for a night in Rome with supermodel Brittany Brett.

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

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honeeslust · 4 months

Text

Choso Kamo | Screen Time

🖤 After months of this just being an idea and then a few more that I spent plotting how to make all the concepts fit together and lastly me trying my best to make it a little dark but still sweet at the same time because its Choso and he's so babygirl😌 😩. Bare with me. I got a bit long winded at the end and was running out of dialogue on the readers end 😬.

Anyway...

Im glad I ain't give up on this one.

Here goes....

🖤 WC 3k+

🖤 songs on repeat when writing…

Screen time Max Millz.

Body say Demi Lovato. (Don't judge me)

The offering. Sleep Token.

High Water Sleep Token(particularly because the drums around 3:25. it builds.. ya know 😮‍💨👌🏾 ... )

Pov: A pretty brown skin girl is sitting in her bed. Freshly showered and effectively dosed with a tall glass of wine. Her favorite pillow is tucked between her legs while she plays a game on her switch. Her phones somewhere over on the nightstand charging. So her boyfriend isn't privy to the glow currently spreading across her cheeks when he begs her...

Show me...

What?

Of coarse you heard him. But something about that deep monotonous tone bellowing into your ears has your brain tripping over itself.

I wanna see em'. Face time me.

Tsk!!Choso, nooo. Im on the last level... and besides. I'm already in my bonnet.

Bae you for real? C'mon. Like I care... now lemmie see you. His voice gets all deep and smokey sounding. Forcing you to pause your game as those damn butterflies started up their familiar dance in the depths of your stomach.

Fine. You say reaching for your phone. You tap the icon above his picture, and moments later, there he is. Eyes smoldering through the messy tendrils of hair fringing his face.

Alright pretty girl. Lemmie see em'

Meanwhile...

Fuuuck! I need this girl.

That's all that Choso can think right now as he stares at his phone admiring the view. A slight chuckle escapes his lips even though he didn't think it looked funny. He only thought it was cute because your normally fluffy hair was now confined to the polka dotted satin bag, giving the top of your head a funny shape.

Baby, c'mon...Put the bonnet thingy back on. You look cute in it. I like it... you look like one of the toad things from Mario.

Boy stop. You get on my nerves Choso.

I know...He says boldly as if he were proud of himself. Put it back on... pleeease!

Ugh, fine!! You tugged your bonnet on to your head feigning annoyance. To get back at him, you set your phone down leaving it to stare up at the ceiling.

Nah! Get off that game. Cmon and show me. He blares when he hears that you've switched your game back on.

He begs unnshamedly until you finally set up your phone and bring your body into view. Showing off the tight top and booty shorts that hugged the curves of your body. Your nipples poke through the thin ribbed fabric, making his mouth water after thr sight. The little buds would gently bounce underneath, moving with the shy laughter rattling in your chest as he gasses you up.

You need that one in every color.

Stop teasing Cho.

I'm not... Make sure you pack those when you come and visit me. I wanna see you in it up close....

Mmhmm. Sure Choso. But only if you make it worth my while. It's your turn. Show me somethin cutie.

Nah. These sweats are nothing special. You've seen me in them before.

I don't care...Thats not what I'll be looking at no way. Cmon Big head. Don't get all shy on me now.

He pretends to think about it before shaking his head. Nope.

Nuh-uh! Thats not fair!

Bae, what's not fair is you being so damned far away. I feel like I'm going fuckin mental over here. He sighs, visibly exasperated, he pushes his hair away from his face just for it to fall over his eyes again.

Exactly!! You exclaim looking into the camera. C'mon Cho.... Show me what I'm missing.

He relents, shaking his head over the full lipped pout you were giving him. He raises his phone and pans the camera down to show off all the prominent muscles as they flexed along his torso. He knew what you liked to see.

Ooh. You beamed, your face lighting up at the camera as you settled into a cozy spot in bed, ready to spend this night just like every other... laid up talking til the sun comes up.

…

As a vampire who never slept. He'd spend the daylight hours restricted to the confines of his home. And as a drummer. His nights were often spent playing bars and headlining secret shows, leaving those sleepless days wide open to sit around pining for the pretty girl who stole his heart.

The opposing schedules meant most nights were the same. Him just listening on the other end of the call, many times staying long after you'd fallen asleep. Rather than saying goodbye, you'd just nod off after a long comfortable silence.

Choso never complains about it though. Something about you sleeping was so gratifying. If he closed his eyes, your soft sighs would hum to him. Sobering yet siren-like. Momentarily easing the agony of the unbearable distance.

…

Tonight was no different. Eventually your sentences are shortened to half yawns and low sounding moans, your eyes lowerin, glittering with tired tears. He smiles to himself, knowing it wouldn't be long now before you drifted off.

He relaxes against the pillows. His half naked body buzzing as it always does at this hour. It's those steady breaths from you coming through his headphones and him visualizing the skimpy pink pajamas you wore stained with your blood when suddenly a soft thumping in his ears interrupts his daydream.

He glances at the screen and it's only a moment or two before he realizes what's happened. You had to have been exhausted, given that the phone somehow ended up underneath you and you hadn't budged to correct it.

At first he calls your name a few times hoping to laugh about it with you, but then... he really listens.

Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

He perceives each and every pulsation with eager ears, obsessively committing the rhythm to memory. Without thinking, his hand begins to wander along his body, a whisper of your name threatening to escape the place it hung on the tip of his tongue. He slips his hand underneath the waist band, intending to do something about the intense straining happening there. A half moan erupts from his lips when he flinches from his own touch, his dick so swollen and tender that it aches.

He makes out every little impulse coming through his headphones. Now spreading the sappy pre-cum around himself and dragging it down along the shaft. Your heart thumps unsteadily, making his erection lurch responsively within his grip. His hips buck lightly off the mattress. Soft whimpers beginning escape through his clenched teeth while he fucks himself against his grip.

He swallows his whines, hoping his pathetic sounds won't wake you. But he's unable to stop. He draws his lip under his teeth, stifling his slutty cries as he edges himself to you. Pacing in time with the barely audible surging of blood from within your chest. He keeps up until his toes are curling and thick ropes of cum are stroked out over his stomach.

…

From then on, he went on thinking he was losing his mind. Day by day, he grew a little more infatuated with the girl that was stuck in his screen. He drove himself crazy obsessing over what it would feel like to lay his head against your chest and feel the motion of it bumping against his ear. He was so desperate to hear it again that he found himself behind his drum set, replicating the cadence that was set within your chest.

The night comes when he finally gets the chance to see you in person. And from the moment he spotted you in the crowd, he couldn't take his eyes off you. You sang and danced in the front row, like you were a mirage made manifest from his crazy obsessive fixation.

For so long you were only a bundle of pixels trapped in his phone that you started to feel like a dream...Your lips. Always un-kissable. Your body so agonizingly unreachable and the hold you had over him completely unshakable.

The set ends and he rushes off stage to find you. He downs a handful of drinks, listening to you struggle to talk over the music. He's barely feeling any of the alcohols affects but since you've indulged in a few yourself, you've come out your shell a little. He can tell how the fruity drinks are affecting your inhibitions as you stand and face him, a look of determination on your face.

Dance with me.

He lets you drag him onto the dance floor. He touches with slow hands, pulling until you were nestled perfectly against him. Once you were writhing in his grasp, letting you go was not an option. He welcomes the weight of your body against him, pulling your hips closer until your ass was crushed against his lap. The song is a fast one, but steady tantric movements of your hips stir in tandem with the inner beat.

Holding you this way allows him to take his first real breath of you and suddenly the rest of the world falls away. He draws you closer, his arm resting heavy and possessively over your chest. Your intoxicating scent permeating his senses and altering his state of mind. His fingertips embark on a journey along the length of your body... Pursuing the hills and valleys of your curves till they met bare skin.

Your bodys response was immediate and electric. Causing your odd little heart to misbehave, tempting him to taste you right where you stood.. Your body moves like art against him, afflicting his ability to remain in control.

He dips his head into the curve of your neck and presses his lips to your exposed skin, eliciting a sharp quiver to trail the length of your spine. Sly fingers gently began to toy with your nipples through your dress as he snuck a tiny nip at the crest of your shoulder, resulting in a feint lapse in the rhythm he had become completely spellbounded by.

You turn to face him, emboldened in your elated state. You step up on your toes to whisper in his ear that you were ready to go. He was almost too hopped up on the high you gave him to let you go, but he takes your hand in his and leads you away.

…

The car ride did you no favors and once you got back to his place, you were embarrassed to admit the alcohol had caught up to you. But he offers aspirin and water and invites you to his studio to put your feet up for a bit.

He helps you relieve yourself of your shoes, adorning you with sudden lengthy stares as he commits every aspect of you to memory.

Now that you were off your feet and you've hydrated. He could tell the alcohol was slowly wearing off. Your eyes shut as though you were lost in the music... Lying with your legs resting across his lap while you listened to some of his songs.

His hands begin caressing the soles of your feet. rubbing in tight circles, unwinding you knot by knot. He gives the right spot a firm squeeze, earning a moan that broke into a squealas his fingers trail a line along the inside of your foot. You giggle, nudging his crotch with your toes. Cho... that tickles.

What? ...This?? He mocks, letting his fingers continue their steady path up the inside of your calf. It's there that he stops to thrum out a little beat.

You laughed weakly wrestling your leg away from him. You and that drumming thing you do... it's cute.

He hadn't really realized he was doing it... but his favorite part of percussion was blaring through the speakers and bouncing perfectly off the soundproof walls. That which...unbeknownst to you was basically a musical rendition of your ekg.

How would you respond if you knew how obsessed he'd become with getting to this very moment?

You sit up, eyes still low from the lingering buzz. Giving him a look like something was on your mind.

I like this one...

He looks to you, his pale features blooming with color when he speaks. What would you say if...I told you this was you?

What do you mean?

You'll think I'm crazy if I try and explain it. Choso stares down at his hands now atop your thighs. It's ... Hard to put it into words...

Your expression brightens when you speak, helping to ease his nerves. Aww. Cho look at you blushing. You gotta tell me now. Cmon...pleease.

He's breaking apart at the seams, falling for everything about you. Your pulse stammers away in your excited state. And he's fixated, there's and aching his jaw, a sharpness ready to break through, when he bites his tongue, managing his control as best he can, all while continually rapping lightly over the little scar on your thigh.

It's you...

What?? You asked those endearing wide eyes affecting him in more ways than you knew.

This... he says gesturing to the sounds surrounding you. I memorized it. He utters astutely aware of the way your skin was smoldering beneath his finger tips.

Your eyes widen toward him and a certain melanated crimson warms your features under his gaze. Baby...you can hear that?

It's my favorite headache

You come closer but your heart stutters. Your favorite huh?

Mmhmm. My favorite. He repeats lowly and honeyed.

Let me see... You say extending your hand to him. You take his hand and place upon your chest... Now...you can feel it too.

His ghostly complexion reddens with desire. Your proximity is so mouthwatering that it alters him from each moment to the next. Your pulse yammers away under his palm causing the cascade of events currently taking place within him.

Abysmally deep wine colored eyes are suddenly overcast in a blood soaked tinge. A hungered gaze rests upon you… Riiight on the little spot just above your collar bone that was jumping frantically as your pulse quickened.

He wants you, more than he's ever wanted anything in his lengthy existence.

Its you. Its the blood. It's the touch. Its the way your lips are mere inches from his, impairing his ability to keep a humanly composure.

Just a taste y/n...please? he begs in a voice just barely rasping above a whisper.

His hand pushes up to your throat, wresting you closer to him so he can press his lips to your skin. You smell so good... I could just bite you right now. Bae...You just don't know...

The answer to his plea comes with your lips crashing into his. He can hear the air escaping your lungs and feel the heavy thudding of your carotid jumping underneath his palm.

Slow movements of your tongue lap against his, and your head tilts to deepen the kiss. He feels your hand brushing over the stiff region under his jeans, and gasps into your mouth.

God your mouth... nectarous and your tongue artful. Drawing slick little circles around his own...Rousing a heady crescendo that builds in almost perfect timing with the music still playing in the background.

You clamor your way into his lap, feeding his appetite to feel you everywhere all at once. You shove him against the back of the couch as you settle neatly into his lap.

He tears your body free of your clothes, and buries his face in your chest. He drowns himself in your body heat, drawing a nipple between his teeth to tease and prod while pinching the other between his fingers.

Ahh. you cried curling your fingers into his hair giving his mouth free rein across your chest. His hips buck between your legs to let you grind into the opposing friction. Your rapid breaths aren't enough to drown out the soft wet gush coming from the place between your thighs. Your body responds so pleasingly to his touch and its causing the burning within him to deepen. He breathes you in deeper, his hands dipping between your legs to press into the wet imprint there. The slick feeling on his fingers has him unable to hold back now that he finally has you for himself.

The next moment he's ripping down his zipper and freeing himself with one hand and using it to drag his thickness through your leaky arousal. He coats your folds with the heady slick before pressing himself inside. Your walls cinch up, ensnaring him one mere inch at a time, until your nails are digging craters into his skin and you’re stretched tight around him.

Cho... That's so fucking deeeep! You wail half flinching.

Mmhmm.... I waited so long for you bae. He mutters into your skin finding it impossible to be gentle. His nose trails down the side of your neck, roughly bunting his cock into you. I need to taste you bae... Its all I think about. Please... Say yes.

Weakly, you finally nod, churning your hips against him when his fingers thread themselves into your hair. He yanks, roughly revealing the awaiting spot on your neck currently pulsing out of control. The sharp edged incisors erupt from their confines, ready to taste. Shh... I promise...It only hurts at first. He breathes only granting you a second to prepare for the sting that follows.

He sinks his teeth in deep, indulging without restraint. His bite is burning now as more of your essence slicks down his throat, inherently feeding the latent beast within him.

His movements grow harsh and erratic. Soft grunts rattle against your throat as the oncoming climax has your core bearing down around him and the elixir sweetens on his tongue. Your breaths are coming shallow and your strangled moans are dying as the rythym in your chest slows.

Choso acts swiftly. Releasing his teeth from you to bite into his wrist. He brings the hot liquid spilling from his veins onto your lips.

Drink, you'll be okay baby.

You obey, merely sipping at first...,Still lazily grinding yourself into his lap. The blood runs slower from your wound as it heals over and your body lingers on edge. He takes over, guiding your hips back and forth, holding so tight his fingers bruised your skin. He can feel the spongey center of your womb, tensing as he continued kissing that spot as repeatedly and as steadily as you needed it.

Cho... I.... Its too... You ramble on clutching him tighter as your climax left the words halted in your chest.

Fuuuck... don't wanna break you bae... but I need more. He moans out before sinking his teeth into your shoulder. You scream his name in surprise and tremble in pain. Crying tears from your eyes and pussy.

He can't let himself hurt you, but you're too fucking good to let go of. You cling to him, gasping loud and ragged versions of his name, grinding down against his cock until your insides squinched and trembled. The soppy elixir of the combined wetness makes a mess of his lap.

This time he stops short of you passing out and finds what humanity he can tether himself to and regains control of his senses. He nips his finger to expel more of his blood. You suck it between your lips allowing the droplets to coat your tongue.

He lays your body against his couch. Eagerly searching for a taste of you before the spasms between your legs had even stopped.He kisses along your inner thigh, his fingers withdrawing from your lips to toy with your nipples. He pinches harshly, peppering your clit with concise movements of his tongue until the swollen bit vibrated.

He was leaking his own release as he tasted yours dripping down on his tongue. He moans into your cunt, teasing that little knot until it hardens under his tongue and another mind splitting release had you pulling on his pigtails.

He arises from between your legs, panting as he licked up the messy trail of blood that had spilled down your body. The tickle of his tongue slowly brings you back to life.

You'll let me have more... wont you baby. ???

You pant to him as he claims his place between your legs, and slides himself back with a sharp grunt when the new angle had you strangling his cock in a completely different way.

You're ok right? he mouths against your lips before kissing you. Blood and saliva mix between his lips and yours. He slides away and pushes back again, fucking you stupid, cutting out a perfect metronome with his hips meeting yours to the soundtrack of you own making. A soft smack sounds as his mouth separates from yours, leaving them bruised.

Yesss, God you feel so good. Bae. Mmm please come for me, he moans out feeling his body shake as he was ready to let go with you. He finally loses his rhythm. His thrusts become shallower, dragging our your climax until your nails cut into his back. Fuuuck Cho—.

Bae.. its so good I cant stop. You can keep taking me right??

Something about the half dazed look in your eye makes it hard not to keep after you. He could feel it again...

Even as your body tries to give out. He can't stop himself. Not until he could fill you up, again and again until smell his scent lingered on you. If he could procreate, you would've been pregnant for sure.

He lost count of how many times he fucked you. Right now all that mattered was this.

Thump-thump Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

Choso... you ask lazily running your fingers through his hair while his head rests against your chest. You could've told me ya know. I don't care that you're a vampire.

Endings kill me.😩

#smut oneshot #smutxanime honeeslust #blackgirlswhowriteanimesmut #jjk smut #choso fanfic #vampire choso #choso x you #choso x black!reader #choso x y/n #choso headcanons #choso kamo #choso smut

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serxinns · 5 months

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Scarlet Witch reader x yandere Mha Extras: Babysitting!

• your crazy classmates turn into kids and now you're stuck with them great...

•Turns out that while they were on a mission a time Villian decided it was a good idea to enable his quirk while he was being pinned down and now all your classes are turned into 4-5-year-olds and your teacher is now the same age as you

• when you 1st walked into the room the kids surrounded you and looked at you some were in wonder, some were amazed and some were possessive a tug on the bottom of your shirt caught your attention to look down to see Izuku with his all might figure in hand "hi would you like to play with me!" he said with a big smile in his face you smiled back "ok sure!" "I wanna play with y/n too! "me too!" momo said while frowning the other kids whined begging you to play with them as we "Guys guys!" you released yourself from them "ill play with all of you I promise but I izuku asked 1st so I'll play with him you want to join u can or you can play with Aizawa" your friends all whined protesting but it was quickly shit down by the grumpy teen izuku look back with a smug smile while holding your hand the classmates glared and all thought of one single thing

Game on

•Babysitting your kids was absolute hell for you and aizawa all of your friends wanted to play with you individually

Katsuki wanted you to be the kidnapped prince/Princess so he can be the big hero to save you

Shoto wanted to draw you so you had to sit there and stand still so he can be done (it was a drawing of you and him kissing)

Momo and Aoyama wanted to do a mini-fashion show and wanted you to be the judge so they could both compete with each other and see which one is the best

Kirishima wanted to impress you and get your attention by attempting to break stuff with his quirk so you can call him manly you had to stop him many many times

Tsuyu tryna put makeup on you saying how pretty you are and Hakagure is doing your hair and if you ever move you're hit with a brush by Hakagure

Sero tryna to play Spiderman so he can be your Spiderman to save you but you and aizawa panicked tryna persuade him to come down

Koji is the tamest one he tries to teach you different types of animals and species and whenever you praise him for it he gets so happy he tries to invite them in thinking he'll get more praise at 1st it was small animals but u had to stop him cause it was gonna invite a whole ass snake in there

Sato drags you in the kitchen and makes you watch his baking and wanting to be his taste tester

Mina wants to have a dance battle with you making you put up a much of songs you and herbsould like and make you dance with her

Ochako Wants you to join her making matching love bracelets thinking if you would wear this the two of you could be a couple

Iida wanted to be the little class pet trying to tell off the Kids to let you be and tryna convince you into thinking that he's the only good student here

Tokoyami Wants to nap with you which is your fav thing and he loves to want you to read stories to him

Shoji just wants to cuddle you no playing no running no nothing just cuddling with you while your watching your fav show on ur phone

Ojiro wants to play Karate with you so you pretend to spare with him in karate and pretend to be defeated

Denki wanted to play hide and seek with you but his hiding spot are so bad you tried your best not laugh and see him at the same time

Mineta just kept flirting with you so you had to put him in timeout

Izuku Wanted you to be the villain and he she to be the hero to stop you

You were being pulled in different directions the kids arguing about who gets to spend more with who Aizawa tried to break it up but when they hissed at him and he gave up and said "Nope" It was all up to you so the two of you you were about to snap at the children telling them to stop but you had an idea

you whispered it to Aiwzawa so while the class was arguing you quietly tiptoed to the door gently shut it making sure they didn't notice and out and got some snacks and drinks for them

You got back and everyone was glaring at aizawa

Y/n: Tf are y'all glaring for

Bakugo: Where did he take you

Y/n: To get some snacks-

Tenya: no fair! I would've helped you if you would've asked me

Mina: Me too!

Kirishima: hey I wouldve been a better helper

Katsuki: U STUPIDS WOULDNT BEEN STRONG ENOUGH TO CARRY IT

Y/n: QUIET! it doesn't matter you want the snacks or not

Class 1a: Yea!

You and Aizawa sat them down in a circle-like formation and watch them eat their food praying that the night quill would work

It didn't

The kids were as hyper as ever they couldn't stop jumping around chasing each other Tatsumi was chasing around Kirishima and Mina with a knife it was chaos u had to lock yourself in the closet and grabbed ur cross and pray when someone announced that you were theirs LORD IT WAS A WAR you hid in the closet for what felt forever when you realize it was all quiet

You looked out to be the coast was clear but saw your classmates sleeping Thank god

You brought sleep bags and mats for them and they all slept soundly

#yandere bnha #tw yandere #yandere ua #tw obsessive behavior #yandere x reader #platonic yandere #bnha fluff #yandere class 1a #tw stalking #yandere mha

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clubdionysus · 2 months

Text

[BAD DECISION #16] Overindulging

warnings: just a lovely little fluffy chapter!! breakfast food!! chatting about jaykay's big dreams!! we visit yoongi and he calls us out on our bullshit of being besties!! a very cursed bird falls </3

a/n: our first calamity of the purge - i cannot find the header image for this chapter ANYWHERE :( i've checked both laptops and my phone, know the exact date it was orginally posted (nov 20, 2022 if ur curious) and yet nothing - there's actually a few around this period which are lost in the void </3 the og was one of my fave headers too :( it had a cute lil market stall :( waaa

soundtrack: wish on an eyelash - mallrat

wc: 5.3k

bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

"So you really quit then, huh?" Jeongguk mumbles, before blowing against the top of his coffee. It's steaming hot, the cold air of a fast-approaching winter not enough to cool it down.

The pair of you walk by the canal that runs through the city; Jeongguk in his gym gear, his skin still a little clammy from his session, you in a pair of comfy sweats despite the fact you haven't worked out at all.

It's a Sunday, and neither of you slept much last night. He'd been behind the bar, and you'd been on the other side, disco balls in your eyes and trouble in the tequila smile that you were greeting him with every five minutes. It's not your fault that he was the most interesting guy in the bar all night.

You nod, taking a sip on your americano - still iced (because "warm coffee is for pussies" ).

"Wasn't getting my money's worth," you explain, but he knows this perfectly well. You only ever went to the gym to grumble about how much you hated it. That, and to pretend like you weren't looking at him in the mirror whenever he took off his lifting belt. He caught you every single time, but he'd grown to enjoy how shamesless you'd become with it. "Plus Danbi's finally nagged me into joining her pole class, so I'm-"

"Shut up," Jeongguk laughs, cutting you off with his exclamation. He briefly stops in his tracks. Looks at you all lovely and bemused. "You're not?"

You're almost offended by his disbelief.

"Oh, but I am, Jeon," you grin. It's not how you ever thought you'd get your primary source of exercise, but Danbi's core muscles have never looked better. You figure may as well give it a try. "Had my first class yesterday afternoon."

"Did you?" He asks, only waiting for a small hum before he questions you further. "How was it? Have fun?"

Truthfully, you've never been so quickly humbled. Danbi and the other girls in the class make it look effortless. It's a small group, and they've all been lovely and overwhelmingly encouraging, but you can't help but feel out of your depth.

"The pole spins," you tell him, because you can't believe you were the only person who didn't realise that. "Always thought it was the people spinning, but nope. Just the pole."

"What?!" He almost chokes, just as confused as you had been yesterday.

"My thoughts exactly! So yeah, that helps," you acknowledge, nudging his arm to push him in the direction of the street market.

It runs up a lane, connecting the canal to the main street, and has been active for hundreds of years. Old traders would dock their boats on the canal and set up shop down the alleyway, away from the prying eyes of the law enforcement looking for black market traders. These days, it's all flowers and produce, with the occasional hotteok stand during the winter.

Jeongguk's bag rustles as he hikes it a little further up his broad shoulder, sniffing sharply to clear his nose. It's the first sign of a winter cold, and he regrets not wearing a coat, now.

You're babbling on about your class, and how your legs have never been more bruised. You're not even sure he's really listening, but you don't mind. There's no pressure for him to retain this information, no pop quiz coming later.

You just enjoy each other's company. Talk about nonsense because you can. It's like you're playing a game of sims, prattling to one another just to make those little green plus marks hover above your head, your socialising bar restoring to full health.

"Honestly, you should see my legs - I look like a bloody watercolour painting. All purple and blue."

"Oh, yeah?" he finally responds with a teasing grin, glancing over to you as you meander towards a flower stall. It's small, but overflowing with native flowers. Considering how cold it's becoming and how orange the leaves are on the trees that line the river, it's nice to see some green. "Maybe next time I'm at the cafe, you'll have to live model for me."

You stop in your tracks. Bunch your face up like an old newspaper, as if he's just said the most offensive thing you've ever heard, and then you scoff.

Jeongguk turns to look at you fully, a goofy little smile on his pretty lips (though you really ought to stop thinking of his lips as being pretty ), and raises a brow. He's baiting you out. Teasing you. Was deliberately looking for a reaction like this, because he finds them funny.

Folding your arms, you knock your shoulder against him as you walk past and say, "you're never seeing me naked."

" Again ," he calls after you. "Never seeing you naked again ."

The ajumma sitting by her stall just a metre away, with her homegrown cucumbers and cabbages, scowls in Jeongguk's direction. Tuts beneath her breath. Looks away as he turns to apologise, his cheeks flaming red like they always do when he's had too much soju.

He's not had a drop all week, though. He's been working hard, and studying even harder. It's all work, no play. The walk home from the gym is the most free-time he's indulged in since he left your apartment last week.

You had been right in saying that the water pressure of his shower is far better than yours - but he'd insisted on showering at yours regardless. Together. Just friendly. Like you normally do. Didn't want to have to explain things to Jimin. Is still not exactly sure even he knows how to understand your friendship - just that he likes it, and he doesn't want to lose it.

He also likes the scent of your shampoo. Rummaged around in Jimin's old haircare stuff for a shower cap just so he could preserve it for an extra day. Doesn't tell you this though, as he thinks it's a bit weird.

Probably just as weird as the way you'd rearranged your pillows that night just to keep the scent of his aftershave close. You tell yourself it's a comfort thing. In all actuality, it most likely is.

"I can't believe you shouted that-"

"I didn't shout!"

"- In front of that poor old lady," you hiss beneath your breath as he finally catches up with you, now holding a cabbage. "Why do you have-"

"Felt bad. Bought a cabbage from her."

"The fuck are you gonna do with a cabbage?"

He shrugs. "Eat it?"

Nonchalant in the way he approaches life, Jeongguk feels like a summer breeze even as temperatures begin to dip below a comfortable level. You've got a heat pack in your pocket, and when Jeongguk sniffs again, you pass it over to him. Think that he needs it more. He tells you it's okay, and that it's fine, so you just stuff it in his pocket despite his protests.

By the time you've reached the end of the alley, Jeongguk is the one ignoring your protests as he pushes you forwards into a cafe. The buttery scent of fresh pastries is so heavenly that you're half convinced you did actually die of embarrassment when he announced his awareness of your bare skin to the entire neighbourhood.

Various loaves of bread line the counter towards the front of the shop, golden brown and just begging for you to buy every single one of them. Pastries, cakes, too. It's overwhelming.

"They do the best french toast," he promises you - and how can you refuse?

You're practically salivating as Jeongguk plonks you down by the window of the only free booth. It's tucked away slightly, but offers the perfect people-watching spot - which is why it's his favourite seat in the entire cafe. He tells you to wait there while he orders at the counter.

You're too busy people-watching, but you notice the lack of his presence. The cafe feels duller. Less warm. Less inviting. Less... like home. He's taking longer than you thought he would.

Perhaps there was a queue? You can't see from your vantage point - but, eventually, you can see Jeongguk as he comes to stand in front of the window with a closed-lip smile, his silver ring flipping in the corner of his mouth. In his hand is a small bouquet of posies. Wildflowers, you think, from the stall down the other end of the alley. He must have sprinted. The way his chest heaves a little confirms this.

"For you," he says as he comes to sit opposite you a moment later, holding them out for you to take. There's a variety of flowers in the bunch, tied with a white ribbon, but you don't know the name of any of them. You just know that they're beautiful. He senses your confusion, so he clarifies. "An apology. Sorry for telling the entire street I've seen your tits."

You narrow your eyes. Tilt your head. Jeongguk thinks you look like a little puppy. Tells you so.

"Careful, or you'll have to buy me more to make up for the fact you just called me a dog," you tease as he places a small black disk down on the table. It's from the front counter, given to him when ordered the food. On the side, a bright red 07 lets you know your order number.

"I like dogs," he says as he shakes his hoodie off, tucking it over the back of his chair. "It's a compliment."

Sometimes, you forget Jeongguk has tattoos. His eyes are so doe-like, his nature so tepid and warm, that the idea of him engaging in anything remotely painful shocks you - but you've also seen how hard he goes at the gym, and have also felt his firm grip on your body. You know he most likely finds pleasure in a little pain.

They trail up his arm, thick intricate lines mapping out his identity for all to see - or at least the parts of him he doesn't mind other people knowing. If you didn't know Jeongguk, you'd be able to learn a lot about him from his arms - right down to the fact that one of them covered in ink, while the other is pristine and free of it. He's a man of two halves, and you're lucky enough you get to indulge in both.

"What?" He grins when he realises you're contemplating something.

"Just not sure I forgive you," you tease, crossing your arms in an attempt to make it look like you weren't reminding yourself of the way his fingers - the ones with the tattoos - feel inside of you. It was only a brief thought, but any thoughts like that outside the confines of a fallen bird are dangerous, you decide.

"Got you flowers, got you brunch - what more do you need?!"

You sharply inhale some air, teeth gritted, eyes to the sky in contemplation. "More compliments."

Jeongguk has to try really hard not to roll his eyes. He looks around, as if he's scared someone will hear him, licks the corner his of mouth and shakes his head.

" Fine . I like your outfit."

"Pathetic," you say almost immediately. "If I wanted appearance compliments, I'd go on tinder."

"You have tinder?"

"Give me something that's actually a compliment. Something none of my tinder boys could say."

"You have tinder boys?"

"And girls," you shrug.

The truth of the matter is that you have neither at the moment. The app lies dormant on your phone, unused because you just can't be arsed with the hassle. There are only so many times you can be asked if you're 'open-minded ' or if you live alone. As much as you don't mind hooking up with strangers in bars, you hate meeting people off of apps. It's too much pressure.

Still, you don't let Jeongguk derail the conversation, although you can see that behind his eyes there are some cogs turning. Whatever he's thinking will take a while to formulate. You know what he's like now; how he likes to think things through before he says them.

"So," you lift a shoulder, lazily shrugging. "Compliment?"

He reclines back into his chair. Finds himself narrowing his eyes like you so often do. You're challenging him, and he's weighing up how much of a chance he has of winning. Thinks his odds are pretty high.

"Tae couldn't have sorted out his art show without you."

As much as you wanna pretend like it isn't exactly the sort of thing you wanted to hear, a smile forms on your face. Acknowledgement of your hard work is always appreciated. You press your lips together, but still, a smug grin prevails.

"Nah, seriously, Byeol," he adds on. "Thank you. I mean it. It's been Tae's dream since I met him. You've no idea how cool it is to watch all of this happen."

"I played a tiny part," you smile, secretly enamoured with how happy he is for his friend's success.

It's a trait that says a lot about Jeongguk. Who he is as a person. Makes it all the more clearer as to why he's so keen on helping you with your issues. He wants the people he cares about to thrive, no matter the circumstance.

"So? The nozzle is a tiny part of a fountain gun," he says, making reference to the bar he works behind. "But without it? The drink would go everywhere. It's important. You're important."

"You're giving me far too much credit," you deflect, a little embarrassed, now.

He shakes his head. "I'm not giving you enough."

He holds your gaze for a moment. Wants you to know that he really does mean what he's saying. He wouldn't bother hyping you up if he didn't genuinely think it. He knows Tae well, and knows he has enough drive to make his dreams come true, but he had been drawing blanks recently - until you came along.

It's not just the space of the art cafe that's helped, but you willingness to help market it, get the news out to local artist circles that Tae wasn't privvy to. You've taken insurmontable wieghts from his shoulders. All Jeongguk could do was put posters up in the bathroom stalls of Dionysus.

"What about you?" You ask, wanting to move the focus away from yourself. "What's your big dream?"

He goes to speak, but is cut off the by the small black disk with a flashing 07 on the side of it. The vibration tone is so loud that it actually makes him jump.

"Hold that thought," he says as he heads off to the counter to retrieve the food, leaving you to watch the window once more - but you find yourself glancing in the mirror that's up on the back wall.

The woman at the counter smiles at him, and you see him bow slightly as he says thank you. His manners are never forgotten.

You bet he's the kind of customer the girl behind the counter will daydream about coming in again. A takeaway order, maybe. He'll stand by the till and wait for it, chitchatting with her. She'd hope he would enjoy her company and make himself a repeat customer. One day, eventually, he'd ask what she's doing after work. Ask if she wants to grab a drink, or something.

But Jeongguk is Jeongguk. Even if he wanted to, he wouldn't.

You know this.

Still, you find yourself dreaming up this little hypothetical life for him; one in which his fears don't exist anymore.

When he returns, he pretends he didn't see you looking.

"Samgyeopsal," he simply states, as he organises the plates to make them look pretty, just in case you wanna take a picture.

"What of it?"

He's proven right as you pull your phone out and open up the camera. Tweaking a plate ever so slightly, you're impressed with his arrangement. He's got an eye for composition. You're less impressed with the fact he sticks his middle finger up in the background of your shot.

"Child," you scold. He just sticks his tongue out to further solidify your point.

"Well," he hums as he redistributes the plates and hands you some cutlery. "I really enjoy working at the bar, but I hate not being able to make big decisions about what happens there - here -" He passes you the tiny jar of syrup that came with your french toast. "- and so I'd like to own my own place. Thing is, I really fucking love samgyeopsal."

"Oh yeah?" You laugh at how much he exaggerates his tone.

"Love it more than maybe anything else on this planet."

"Even me?"

"Oh, especially you."

"Rude."

"Shut up," he laughs, focusing his attention on his croque monsieur. "Anyways, I think it would be really cool to have my own joint, yanno? Decorate how I like, serve my favourite side dishes. Get a good team working for me - probably would poach Yeonjun from the bar."

"He'd do well in a restaurant," you nod. "Good people person."

"Exactly," Jeongguk beams, thinking about the prospects all over again. "I even know the exact building I wanna be in."

"Really?"

"Mhmm," he confirms, swallowing down a bite of warm bread and cheese - no ham ,though. They really scrimped on the ham. He'd never scrimp on meat in his place. When you notice how furrowed his brows are, as if he's furious for how delicious his food is, you smile. "Few streets over from your work. There's been a vacant unit next to the makgeolli bar for a little while. I've registered my interest, but like - I'm still in fucking school." He laughs now. It's all a bit of a pipe dream. "I need to speak with investors. Raise funds. That's what scares me the most."

"Oh?" You encourage him, not wanting to interrupt his train of thought - and also not wanting to stop eating. He was right. The french toast is to die for.

"I know all of the hospitality tricks," he continues. "Been working long enough to know how to run a place on the people side of things, but I'm a bit out of my depth when it comes to business."

"Do you not cover that at school?" You question with genuine curiosity. "Thought you were under the business faculty?"

"I am," he nods, pleased that you have apparently been listening to him. "But you can only be taught so much, yanno? Nothing compares to actually experiencing it. It's the little things, like bank meetings, and shit. That's what's scaring me."

Funny. You'd never really considered that Jeongguk's fear of rejection could trickle down so far into his bones. It's like he's fearful nothing he wants is a viable option - career path included.

"Have you spoken to Yoongi?" You ask, mindlessly soaking up the maple syrup on your plate with a chunk of french toast. "He's got his own studio, right? He's gone through this process?"

Jeongguk nods. "Something similar, I suppose. Hospitality is a little different to what he does. I think technically - when it comes to tax and shit - he's listed as a construction worker?"

He laughs, and shakes his head. Has seen Yoongi painstakingly craft the most beautifully ornate home furnishings. Thinks he couldn't be further from a construction worker if he tried (though Yoongi would argue that the red pine hanoks he built with his own bare hands beg to differ).

"To be fair," he considers, "I actually need to pop by Yoongi's on my way home."

"Oh?"

"There's some work to do at the bar out back. Boss wants to convert the little courtyard next to the staff room into the smoking area, and change the existing smoking area into a patio bar," Jeongguk sighs as he rolls his eyes. He thinks they may as well just add a bar to the existing smoking area and leave the courtyard free - mainly because he likes to hide there on the nights he can't be fucked with punters. Only for a minute or so. Maybe five minutes. No longer than ten. Apart from that one time he fell asleep, but that's neither here nor there. "Doesn't wanna hire workers though, so yours truly has been tasked with the job. Gonna get Yoongi's advice on it."

You nod. Remind yourself of what Jeongguk looks like with a lifting belt on, and replace it in your mind with a tool belt. Press your lips together. Your legs, too.

"What?" He asks, when you shift away from him slightly.

"Oh, no, nothing," you smile, deflecting. "Just really good food."

He narrows his eyes. Chooses not to press. Has no idea that you're getting yourself all flustered because of him . Instead, he hauls the conversation forward - asks you about your dreams instead, where you want to end up in life. It's a big question, you tell him, and he agrees - but he finds fantasising about future possibilities fun. Gets you thinking in hypotheticals. Lottery wins, winning a free trip to a country of your choice, only having one day to live - that kind of shit.

The conversation carries on for far too long. Brunch is long gone, and Jeongguk suggests another drink not once, but twice. Orders some french toast for himself, and gets you a cake from the counter even though you insisted on not wanting anything, just because he doesn't wanna eat alone.

Midafternoon sun encroaches on your window spot, and he finds himself grinning whenever the glitter catches in the light. There are a few rogue specks that have strayed from your eyes. He leaves the ones on your cheeks alone, but reaches over and dusts off the ones that are on your forehead. Says nothing as he does so. You just let him, and continue talking.

He can encroach on your personal space and recieve zero complaints. You're comfortable. The significance isn't lost on him, but it is tucked away into a safe part of brain, not to be distrubed for the time being.

Once he's done with his french toast (and also done complaining about the fact he's eaten so much he might die ), you head on your way.

There's a chill to the air that wasn't present earlier, and you know that you're gonna have to start wrapping up a lot warmer soon. You hate how quickly summer turns into winter - autumn is far too fleeting.

As soon as the leaves turn golden brown, they've fallen, only for the snow to fall just as quickly as soon as the New Year arrives. You've a month or so to go.

"Best season," Jeongguk says as he kicks a few leaves that are brittle and brown, settled on the pathway, crunching beneath his feet. He loves the rustle of autumn leaves.

Loves the blossom season in spring, too, and will swear that it's his favourite season instead come April.

The cycles of life; evidence that life goes on, always. No matter how defeatist he can be, no matter how much he can fear the variables of the future, it's proof that there invariably will be one.

He leads you through a twisted road of alleys, that you'd no doubt get lost in without him, before eventually reaching Yoongi's studio. "I'll be quick, promise."

And how can you refuse? You owe him for the food, and know that he absolutely will not accept it when you try and pay him back, so not kicking up a fuss or complaining is the least you can do. It's not like you have plans for the afternoon. Had sort of figured you'd spend it hanging out with him anyways.

You're also really nosey. Are intrigued by Min's. Wanna see inside the studio, to see if it looks like how you've imagined it to(though you have already looked at the instragram, so you reckon you've got a fair idea in your head).

Jeongguk ushers you up a narrow staircase that brings you above a mandu restaurant. The smell of hot oil and fresh dough wafts in the air and follows you up the stairs, while Jeongguk whinges about being hungry again.

He absolutely cannot be hungry already, but he swears down that he'll die (a common complaint from him) if he doesn't have some mandu soon. You put your palms on his lower back and encourage him up the stairs, stopping him from turning around when he tries.

It's only made worse when you enter Min's studio, only to find Yoongi munching on flat mandu. Jeongguk whines again. Tells Yoongi that he's being cruel, then tells you the same thing for your refusal of allowing him to indulge in such a delicacy.

Yoongi just looks at the pair of you a little bewildered, half a mandu in his mouth, the rest held snug between his chopsticks. He swallows down the food and raises his brows. "Can I help you?"

As it turns out, he can. Jeongguk explains the task at hand - "ballache, if you ask me" - and Yoongi offers to help, free of charge, without even batting an eyelid. Brushes his hands off on his dark grey apron, tosses the empty paper container of his mandu into the bin, and sets about finding that right tools for the job.

It's a no-brainer to him: invest in the people you care about, and they'll invest back. He knows that Jeongguk would help him in a heartbeat, too - and he will also be sure to remind him of this moment in the future when he's in desperate need of a bar space for a showcase.

Min's is everything you thought it would be.

Deceptively large, it has more than enough room for there to be a few extra members of staff - but Yoongi works best alone. Likes his solitude. The rowdiness of his friendship group more than makes up for how quiet his job is - and when the saws and sanders are blaring, it'd be redundant having other people to socialise with.

The back wall showcases more saws than any one man could possibly need, but they all serve a distinct purpose that Yoongi would argue couldn't be achieved with anything else. In all truth, he's skilled enough to be able to mimic the texture and appearance of certain saws, but he likes doing things the old-fashioned way; as they should be done.

There's a stack of wooden boards on his work table, that he's been sanding by hand because there's something far richer about the finish than when they're machine done. He'll charge a little extra for these ones - and it'll be paid without hesitation because of how beautiful they are.

"Has he mentioned dinner at our place to you, yet?" Yoongi asks when Jeongguk finally makes a break for it to go and buy some mandu.

You glance over to him from the display unit, where small ornate objects sit, perfectly polished and prettily waiting for new homes. "Dinner?"

Yoongi nods. "Our place. Weekend before Tae's show - has he really not mentioned it? I've reminded him twice already."

Shaking your head, you laugh. "Boy's got a complex. Not good with invites."

It's something Yoongi is well aware of - after all, he'd been the one to watch Jeongguk with you, a smile on his face, as he finally spoke to a new girl at the bar a few weeks back.

"Mhmm," Yoongi hums. "Just didn't realise it applied to you, too."

"Doesn't normally," you admit, trying to hide the slight confusion you feel. It really is out of the ordinary - he usually invites you to things to avoid having to invite an actual girl. Makes you feel a little insecure. "Maybe he just doesn't fancy me being there?"

"Who doesn't want you where?" Jeongguk says through a muffled mouthful of mandu, pushing the studio door open with his shoulder. Stops in his tracks when he sees Yoongi slowly fold his arms over his chest, giving him a hard stare. "Ah. That ."

He glances over to you, noticing your furrowing brows and the hurt that's delicately kissing your features. It's faint. Barely there. But he knows you well enough now to know exactly when you're feeling affronted.

"So you don't want me there-"

"No!" Jeongguk chimes before you've fully finished your question. "No, no. It's not that, I just keep forgetting. Honestly."

He really does. The last time Yoongi sent him a reminder, he'd been on his way to the art cafe hell-bent on getting forgiveness. And like, he did get it, so it's not like it was a fruitless endeavour. Ended up nearly getting laid in the process, but that's neither here nor there.

Yoongi sighs. "If you want a job done properly, do it yourself."

And then he's the one to invite you for dinner. "Our place. Seoyeon is dying to meet you."

You say yes in a heartbeat, as you've been dying to meet her, too. Yoongi says he'll just bypass Jeongguk next time and invite you himself, to which Jeongguk doesn't protest like you half think he will.

In fact, Jeongguk actually really likes that Yoongi considers you a part of the group. Likes that you're becoming their friend, not just his.

Jeongguk's eyes are warm as he looks over to you; teacups full of steaming americanos. Enough caffeine to keep you up for hours, but cosy enough to calm the shakes. And, just like a good cup of coffee, you find yourself always going back for more. Warm coffee might be for pussies, but maybe you'll make an exception this time.

Eventually, Yoongi shoos you both out of the studio. He's got work to finish, and you're distracting him as you mess around with the soldering pen he uses to sign his work. Neither you nor Jeongguk can really work it properly, and are just using it to write profanities on scrap wood anyways.

"You're like a pair of flirting teenagers," Yoongi scolds. He actually quite enjoys the way you banter together. It's nice seeing Jeongguk like him old self again - but he worries. Knows what happened the last time Jeongguk got a little too close to a girl who was 'just a friend' - so he deliberately makes things awkward to force a little self-reflection upon his friend. "If I didn't know the pair of you, I'd think you were fucking, or something."

The way Jeongguk glances over towards you is nefarious; a reminder that what's done in the dark should remain in the shadows.

That's the thing about Jeongguk, though. There's no hiding him. He'll shine even in the darkest of rooms - and when he's facing a girl with enough glitter to rival a mirrorball, his shine would only ever be amplified.

Still, he gags and tells Yoongi not to be a 'weirdo,' and that 'guys and girls can be friends without fucking,' and asks 'do you not have any girl friends?' then says 'like, literally, what the fuck Yoongi?' and 'take that back ' and 'we'd never fuck' and 'we're not even each other's type' and-

"You're deflecting a little hard, there, Gguk."

All you can do is laugh. Yoongi's right. He is deflecting hard.

Plus, on a technicality, you haven't fucked Jeongguk. Not really.

Which is probably a good thing, considering that when you arrive back at Jeongguk's place, there's a single bird waiting on his bed for you both.

The folds are pristine. Expert. His .

He looks at you as you read it to yourself first. Isn't sure if you're grimacing or smiling. Thinks both would be bad, given the nature of literally every single bird on his ceiling.

"So?"

You eventually look up at him, and turn the bird around for him to read:

Let a friend set me up.

"So," you take a deep breath and smile. It's convincing. "Looks like I have to arrange you a blind date."

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

#jungkook fluff #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader

36 notes · View notes

veeluvss · 6 months

Text

✮⋆˙ snowed in

day 4 of 12 days of Christmas

the team (Emily JJ, Hotch, Derek, Spencer and Rossi.)

1226 words

the team are stranded due to the snow so start to enjoy it

Emily groaned and threw herself onto the nearby sofa. Rossi shook his head, frustrated he was going to miss his poker game. JJ pulled out her phone to text Will. Derek sighed, frowning out of the window – almost threatening the weather to change. Spencer pulled out his book, ready to settle with another few hours reading.

“I know it sucks. I wanted to get back for Jack,” Hotch sighed.

“Do you have any idea when we can fly back?” Emily asked. “Sergio can only hold off so long.”

“You don’t feed him at all when we’re away?” Derek exclaimed.

“No, I starve him,” Emily rolled her eyes. The whole team looked at her with raised eyebrows, genuinely concerned. “I’m joking! Garcia feeds him. I meant he can’t hold off long not seeing his mommy.” The team fell into laughter, relieved that Emily wasn’t actually cruel to her cat.

“You know, we could make this delay better…” Derek said after a few minutes.

“Don’t say it, Morgan,” JJ sighed, looking at his smirk. Snow was falling pretty heavily outside now. Having already checked out, the team had no where else to go and nothing else to do.

“I agree with Derek,” Emily laughed, standing up.

“About what? What are you all talking about?” Spencer asked, looking up from his book with his confused frown.

“They want to build a snowman,” JJ sighed, rolling her eyes at their childish antics.

“Come on JJ, it’ll be fun!” Emily whined, pulling her up from the sofa.

“I’ve never built a snowman before,” Spencer perked up.

“Oooh pretty boy, you are missing out!” Derek said, slapping him on the back. Spencer put his book away. JJ groaned again.

“Emily the snow is cold,” she huffed.

“It’s part of the experience. Oh please come JJ.”

“Yeah, it’ll be fun JJ! You can teach me the tricks of building the best snowman,” Spencer encouraged. JJ thought about it for a few minutes. She looked down at what she was wearing and then out at the falling snow. It did look kind of fun. She knew she’d have to pass the time some how.

“Okay fine,” she sighed and threw up her arms. The other three cheered and then they turned to their boss, wide grins across all of their faces.

“I’m not helping you build a snowman,” Hotch said, not even looking up from his file.

“Oh Aaron please!” Emily begged.

“Nope. I have work to do,” he said.

“Fine, come on let's leave the billy no mates here,” Derek said and began heading outside.

“At least put warmer clothes on children, you’ll freeze out there.” Hotch said, trying to hide his smile.

“HEY!” Spencer gasped as the snow ball collided with his back. Derek laughed and shrugged.

“That’s what you get for not moving out of the way baby boy.”

“My back was turned and you didn’t warn me, how was I supposed to know you were throwing a snowball at me?”

Emily slapped Spencer’s shoulder. “Just throw one back.” She handed him the perfectly round snowball and Spencer frowned, eyeing it. JJ laughed from behind the tree she’d found and Emily smirked.

“What do I do?” Spencer asked Emily.

“Throw it, straight at him. Like a baseball.” Spencer scoffed, remembering how bad he was at baseball.

“Come on Reid. I’ll give you an open target,” Morgan said. He spread out his arms and legs, standing facing straight towards Spencer and Emily. What he failed to see was the other snowball in Emily’s hand and the two in JJ’s who had moved from around the tree. Reid, however, had seen them in the hotel window’s reflection and knew the plan.

“Will you count me down?” he asked, keeping up the nervous act.

“Of course, on three.”

“One.”

A wide, cocky smile spread on Morgan’s face.

“Two.”

Emily and JJ both got into their positions and Spence lifted his arm to throw the snowball.

“Three!” Emily screamed as five snowballs flew in the direction of Derek. Hotch had come from behind another tree, a pile of snowballs curled into his arm. Spencer and Emily ducked as JJ launched more from the pile by her tree. Derek shrieked, shrinking into himself as piles of snow hit him with force.

Once the snowball fight, well - attack, was over, the team worked together to build a snowman. A few other families had come out of the hotel and were building their own but Emily and Derek wanted theirs to be the best.

“You know, they’re mainly kids, you have to go easy on them,” JJ said, laughing at her competitive team mates.

“JJ, my snowman will be the best whether you like it or not-” Derek said. Emily shoved him and he fell into the snow behind him.

“OUR snowman,” she reminded him. Derek scoffed and got up, shoving Emily into the snow. JJ rolled her eyes and turned to help Spencer with the head.

Hotch had gone back inside, claiming he did actually have work to do.

They built the snowman as a team, JJ and Spencer working on the head and Emily and Derek worked on the body. They had to of course make sure it was a body builder snow man with defined muscles, big legs and fists of iron, as Derek said. It was the tallest and best built in the garden and they were impressed.

“I’m cold now, can we go in?” Spencer said.

“Me too, come on Spence,” JJ said, turning away.

“No, wait! Get Hotch to take our picture with it!” Emily suggested. Derek turned to the hotel, seeing Hotch through the window, who had been watching his children with amusement.

“Hotch!” He screamed, causing everyone to look at him.

“Derek!” JJ scolded. “At least go over and ask him!”

Hotch was, however, already on his way out.

“Right, stand nicely and pose. Big smiles!” Hotch teased as the group stood proud around their snowman. Derek and JJ kneeled on the ground in front of it and Emily and Spencer stood behind it.

“Okay, now a silly face!” Emily exclaimed before any of them could move. They laughed and pulled their funniest faces.

The trudged inside, tired and cold from the snow fun.

“Oh amigos!!” Rossi smiled and opened his arms as they came in. “Come this way for some warm pie and hot cocoa.” He lead them into the hotel restaurant and they all smiled. In each place was a steaming bowl of pie and vegetables and they each had a hot chocolate, piled with cream and marshmallows by their places.

“Oh Rossi this is sick!” Emily exclaimed, sitting in her spot.

“That’s something Henry would say,” JJ laughed, sitting beside her.

“Yeah, I saw it on Twitter. I’m trying to be more down with the kids,” Emily said.

“It’s not working,” Spencer replied, mocking what Emily had said to him years before.

“Eat up guys, pilot said we can fly home tonight since the weather cleared up.” Hotch announced, watching his kids delv into their post-snow antic food. At least they had fun, despite the back stop.

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theyluvlyss · 21 days

Text

𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨 !

today, I figured I'd make a list of all of my DRs/places I'm shifting to :). I do actually have quite a bit, and while most of them aren't really all that fleshed out (I'll indicate which ones I have the most info on with a key), I figured it'd still be nice to share.

plus, who knows, maybe you'll find that we have a common DR that we can bond over🤷🏽‍♀️. you guys can even ask me whatever questions you want on any of the DRs you see listed below, and I'll be happy to answer them (it gives me an excuse to run my mouth💀). Also, I listed them in alphabetical order!

───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────

𝐤𝐞𝐲 :

♡ - fully scripted out/main DR

° - tons of lose ideas/thoughts

* - some lose ideas/thoughts

if there's no symbol, that means I have literally nothing on it to tell lmao (but I do welcome suggestions of any kind pertaining to literally anything, idc, I just want shifters to engage plz😭🙏🏽).

───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────

𝐩𝐫𝐞-𝐞𝐱𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐚 :

- avatar (the blue ppl lol)

- blue beetle

- avatar: the last airbender

- °darby and the dead

- *descendants

- °fairy tail

- *henry danger

- *insatiable

- *jessie

- *kick-ass

- marvel cinematic universe (mcu)

- °nope

- once upon a time

- *rise of the guardians

- ♡shazam!

- *shazam! (but it's a fairy shapeshifter(?) princess based one that has nothing to do with the plot of either of the previous movies, I'm just super in love with Billy lol)

- *spider-verse

- °speed racer

- *stranger things

- °super sons

- teen titans

- °the black phone (the grabber doesn't exist, nobody dies, but Max is the loveable local ‼️RECOVERING‼️ crackhead)

- *the imperfects

- *the walking dead game (except there's a cure for the zombies so that's cool)

──────────────

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥/"𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐮𝐩" 𝐃𝐑𝐬 :

- *(teen/20s) actress

- (2000s) actress

- boarding/prep school

- *coven/witchcraft-popstars

- girl group/pop stars

- indie band

- *"last" person on earth

- metal band/rockstar

- *nepotism baby

- *rapper

- *reality tv show

- *runaway (with possible alien and/or power-having elements? idkidk-)

- *travel/vlogger

───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────

𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐩...

those are all my desired realities that I wanna shift to lmao😭. I know, it's quite a bit, but you've gotta understand, I was/am the type of person who - has not only constantly wanting a way out/knew there had to be more than, yk...THIS (if that makes sense) - but has always, always, always wanted to be apart of so many of the cool dynamics and whatnot I've seen in all of my fave medias. like, I'd give anything to live any one of these lives at least once, so ofc I have a lot😭✨️.

but anyways, yeah, like I said, feel free to just engage however you want, I truly just felt like showing them off and will definitely be expanding more on each one later in separate posts :)!

𝐜𝐲𝐚/ᐠ•˕•マ~!

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the-offside-rule · 2 years

Text

Pedri Gonzalez (FCBarcelona) - Worried Much?

Requested: by anon

Prompts: 1 - "If anything were to happen to you."

40 - "You're so hot when you're mad."

Warnings: cursing

Pedri rested his head on the steering wheel of his car, letting out a sigh. The team was meant to get the bus back to the Camp last night, but the bus had issues meaning they had to stay at a hotel. Everyone was bummed of course, but most of all was Pedri. He had lost the ball eith only a minute or so left to go, they thought they would have had a draw at least, but the ball got taken and the player that had taken it scored. No one blamed him, it was a tough game but he of course blamed himself. As he got off the bus at the Camp Nou, he looked around for his girlfriend's car but it was nowhere to be seen. He threw his arms up in frustration and groaned as he covered his face. "Need a ride?" He turned to see Frenkie his teammate in his own car and so, Pedri had no other way home. "Yeah, yeah that'd be great."

The ride home was short and close to no co versatipn bar the occassional remarks about their surroundings from time to time. Both players were tired and both didn't have much to talk about. The Spaniard grew more and more excited to get home that by the time they had even driven up the street, he had forgotten all about the match. Pedri's face twisted into one of confusion as Frenkie pulled into the empty driveway of his house. "Is your girlfriend out?" Frenkie asked. "Maybe she was at Camp Nou and I just didn't see her." He took out his phone and called. It rang and rang but went to voicemail. "Well if that's the case, she must not be happy with you." Frenkie chuckled and slapped his teammates shoulder. "Yeah, I'll see you tomorrow man." The pair bid their farewells which ended in Frenkie driving away while Pedri walked up slowly towards the front door. He reached for the handle and to his surprise, it was already open. His eyebrows knotted together as he pushed open the door and called through the house.

"Baby? Amor?" Nothing. Just the sound of cars passing by. "Y/n!" Are you here?" He grew more and more worried about his girlfriend being seemingly missing. Did she have work? Nope. College? No! It was Sunday! His calls became louder and louder as he walked quicker and quicker around the house. "Y/n! Y/n! Can you answer me baby?!" He turned into their bedroom and saw her dancing around the bedroom with her headphones on and undoubtedly up to the highest they would go. ""Ay dios mío!" His hand rested on his chest. "What's wrong with you?" She asked, taking off her headphones. Before she could ask another question, he had her practically smothered in his arms. She didn't get an answer to that question, she simply got pulled into a hug. "Why didn't you answer me?! I was getting worried!" Y/n arched a brow. "I just couldn't hear you. My headphones-" He cut her off with a soft kiss. "That doesn't mean you can shout at me, dickhead."

"Im sorry but, if anything were to happen to you." He mumbled, his neck nuzzling into the crook of her neck. "This may be out of place but you're so hot when you're mad." She joked. "Don't tease me like that." He whispered into her ear, a shiver running down her spine. "And what if I do?" She hums in an amused tone. "You'll find out, don't worry about that."

#pedri gonzalez #football #laliga #fcbarcelona #pedri gonzalez imagine #barca #football imagines #football oneshots #pedri gonzalez blurb

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cobalt-knave · 1 year

Text

For those who doubted the number of NPCs named Justin, here are four of them. Clerk Justin, Justin in security, Host Justin aka Beefy Justin, and Justin with a knife.

Transcript is very long, so it's under the cut!

(ep 19)

Justin: And you see a… sign that says, “Check in … here.”

Travis: Oh, okay?

Justin: Yeah. [chuckles]

Griffin: Seems this is the place to be, man.

Travis: We go there.

Justin: Okay, you go in and there’s a person sitting behind the counter. He’s about 5’7’’, he’s wearing—

Griffin: [laughs]

Justin: [chuckles] He’s wearing a T-shirt and jeans.

Beef: Hail and well met!

Justin (clerk): Hey.

Beef: All right.

Justin (clerk): My name’s Justin, welcome.

Beef: Woah?

Griffin: You’re not 5’7’’, are you?

Justin: No, the character in the— what are you talking— no, this— the character in the game is 5’7’’.

Montrose: We’re staying in cabin 37, may we please have our medallions as quickly as is possible?

Justin (clerk): Oh, yeah, sure.

Justin: He reaches into a drawer without even looking and pulls out three medallions

Justin (clerk): Here you go, you’re in cabin 37.

Justin (clerk): There’s probably just a bed in there. [chuckles]

Montrose: Just one?

Justin (clerk): Three.

Emerich: Oh, thank God.

Justin (clerk): Yeah.

Beef: Okay.

Montrose: I thought we were about to have ourselves a little Kevin McCallister, a little… a little party in there.

Justin (clerk): There— yeah, there’s three.

Beef: Could we… could we request some extra pillows?

Justin (clerk): Yeah, sure, you can request that.

Beef: Will we get ‘em?

Justin (clerk): Nope.

Justin (clerk): Yeah, I just sit here. It’s very boring and doesn't seem to be important. I just kind of sit here and wait for people to come, like yourself. And then hand them the medallion for their room, and then… just kind of cease to…

Montrose: Oh, well, sir—

Beef: Can I have—

Montrose: You must have more of a higher aspiration—

Justin: I mean, I have other stuff I’d like to do. But I—

Montrose: Oh, like what?

Beef: Like what?

Justin: Well, I like to do podcasting, actually.

Beef: Really, podcasting?

Justin: Yeah, I’d like to get into podcasting. But I’m not great with voices, and I’m worried that it’ll be—[chuckles]

Montrose: Hey, that said it was cool for you to give us your keycard.

Justin (clerk): [chuckles] Who’s they?

Montrose: The, you know, higher ups here at Ephemera.

Beef: Shroog.

Justin (clerk): The thing— the only things that I’ve ever done in my life are get medallions out of this drawer and hand ‘em to people, that’s it.

Montrose: Well then, you should be pretty well equipped to hand over the medallion that you have on your neck right now.

Justin (clerk): I don’t have a medallion. They don’t let me go into any of the rooms. This door in front of me, the one that you just walked in, it’s always unlocked. I’m a fucking sitting duck here. But—

Beef: Hey, it sounds like you hate your job? Have you ever been—

Justin (clerk): I don’t hate my job, I don’t love my job. I nothing my job. I don’t have anything interesting to say or do about my job.

Beef: You are fascinating! We’re gonna come back and talk to you. I can’t get enough of this.

Emerich: I don’t know what you’re gonna talk about in your podcast. What will you talk about in your podcast?

Justin (clerk): People that stay too long in here when there’s nothing for them to do or see!

Beef: Oh yeah, I hate that, man! I hate when people do that.

Montrose: I just, I—

Beef: I’d listen. I’d listen to your podcast.

Montrose: I’m updating my speed dial on my phone, and my emergency contact at the hospital, to Justin and Shroog.

Justin (clerk): I can’t leave! I can’t leave this room, I’ve never left.

Montrose: The door’s unlocked.

Justin (clerk): [chuckles] I’ve never left this room.

Montrose: The door is unlocked, though.

Justin (clerk): I was born in this room, I’m terrified to leave.

Beef: Oh, come with us!

Justin (clerk): No.

Montrose: Come with us? We’re having a—

Justin (clerk): [laughs] I’ll never leave! I’ll never leave this room.

Travis: Justin, I pick up Justin and I carry him out the door with us.

Justin: [chuckles] The second you touch Justin—

Montrose: [chants] Justin, Justin, Justin!

Justin: [laughs] The second you touch Justin, you’re electrocuted, for level one harm.

Travis: And I punch Justin.

Justin: Okay?

Griffin: Yeah, let’s kick his ass!

Justin: Okay, you take a swing at Justin. And you’re… he—[chuckles] Your fist lands squarely against his jaw and he is knocked out. It is a beautiful punch. But it isn’t until this exact moment that you see the camera directly behind Justin that starts— [Griffin giggles] And you noticed it’s turned directly at you. And you start to hear the phone on Justin’s desk ringing.

Travis: I pick it up.

Montrose: Real quick, Weekend at Bernie's. We’ve practiced for this. We have practiced this!

Griffin: I put an arm under Justin’s armpit.

Justin in Security: Hi, this is Justin in security. Is everything okay over there? ‘Cause it looked like Justin got punched out or something—

Beef: No, he wanted to learn about stage combat, and I was showing him how to do a punch. He’s here, though. Say hi, Justin!

Clint: I’ll wave his arm. I got a hold of his arm and I wave it from behind him.

(ep 22)

Justin: Dad, here’s what I want for you to do. I want you to roll a sway. And this sway roll is going to be convincing this unnamed gentleman… who I’m going to call…

Travis: Oh, I can't wait.

Griffin: This is gonna be good!

Travis: Brace your asses, everybody!

Justin: Justin.

Travis: Nice.

Griffin: God damn it.

Justin: And—[chuckles] I want you to try to convince Justin for the tier of work that you are ready for.

Justin (Host): What do you— hey, I know you’ve been out of the game for a while.

Emerich: Yes?

Justin (Host): Where are you at right now, skills wise, Emerich?

Emerich: I am really at the top of my game.

Justin (Host): Wow. Wow. Huge stuff, huge stuff. We can all agree, right? Huge stuff.

Griffin: [in silly voice] “Huge stuff, boss!”

Emerich: And if I’m able to sway you, I will demonstrate this projection to you, so you can see.

Justin (Host): You know, it’s so rare people just openly say that they’re attempting to sway you. I appreciate your forthrightness.

Emerich: Well…

Justin: Wow.

Clint: Whoo!

Justin: Great job, dad. Great job.

Clint: Now wait, is that Justin or Justin telling me great job?

Travis: Woah…

Justin: That was Justin.

Griffin: Yeah, this guy’s not your dad in game.

Justin (Host): Hey, you did a great job.

Emerich: Thank you, son.

Justin (Host): I’m really proud of you.

Travis: Now, that was Justin.

Griffin: [chuckles]

Justin: That was Justin.

Travis: Okay.

Justin: [chuckles]

Justin (Host): Okay…

Emerich: Well, Scott, I would like you to meet Justin, who is not my son.

Travis: It’s weird, people don’t often clarify that as much as they should.

Griffin: Yeah, I appreciate it.

Travis: When I’m introduced to people all the time, I’m not told whether or not they’re their son.

Griffin: Yeah.

Scott: Hey, I’m Scott Boldflex, and I’m just realizing I only have one voice for real guys-guys.

Griffin: [chuckles]

Scott: You know, it’s just this one. One voice for guys-guys. Guys that are more guys than me. And I just have this one voice for guys. You know, guys—

Clint: And I recall Scott. I recall Scott into the Give a Ghost Projector.

Justin: Thank fuck. [chuckles]

Justin (Host): That is really impressive!

Clint: No, I said I recalled Scott.

Justin: [chuckles] Fuck off, Dad.

Griffin: [laughs]

Justin: Eat shit forever. [chuckles]

(ep 30)

Justin: The doors open. And you hear the speakers come on again.

Funnyman: And now it’s time for you to [laughs]

Montrose: Go ahead, Funnyman. No, don’t crack yourself up.

Funnyman: And now it’s time for you to face my – one of my most devious, most devious henchmen. Get ready [laughs] Get ready to meet a middle aged man with a paring knife!

Knife Justin: Oh hey. Oh hey, guys.

Beef: Hey, man.

Knife Justin: Welcome to my floor. I guess.

Beef: Are you evil?

Knife Justin: Um. I mean, nobody thinks they are, right?

Beef: Oh wow.

Knife Justin: But I mean I am working [sound] I am working for Funnyman. I guess he’s not the – the best guy, but I mean—

Beef: Well, in this economy…

Knife Justin: If you follow the ladder far enough. I mean, even if you buy fucking salad dressing, Black Rock owns it. You know?

Beef: Yeah.

Knife Justin: So if you follow the chain, it hard to say are any of us evil or good, but I mean, I don’t know. I do have a paring knife, and he told me to try to – I mean, stab you.

Knife Justin: Well, I’m not gonna put the knife down. I mean, that’s—

Beef: Ok try to stab me. Try to stab me.

Knife Justin: You sure?

Beef: Yeah.

Justin: Alright, Travis. You see him. He’s gonna go Norman Bates, like, he rears back with his hand over. He’s gonna go—

Montrose: No, no, that’s – That ain’t. That’s not proper stabbing.

[overlapping voices]

Beef: No, no, no, no. Do underhand. You’re going for the gut, man, what are you doing?

Knife Justin: Oh, ok.

Emerich: This is a paring knife!

Knife Justin: I’ve never actually…

Emerich: You know—

Beef: Yeah, don’t go for like –

Knife Justin: So you go for the— Go for the gut?

Beef: What are you – stabbing me in the top of the head? Yeah, man, you’re trying to chu-chu-choo, ya know?

Emerich: Are you left handed or right handed?

Knife Justin: I’m left – I’m a lefty. Should I be using my dominant—

Montrose: You’re holding it in your right hand. What are you doing?

Emerich: Yeah, it’s in your right hand.

Knife Justin: You guys are being so cool about this. Thank you very much. I really appreciate it.

Beef: We wanna give you a chance.

Travis: I slap him again.

Knife Justin: AH FUCK!

Justin: So, he, uh [laughs] I don’t even think you have to roll for this, Travis. He just – He goes to stab you, and he does! And he stabs you in the stomach. And you can see his eyes, like, pop out, and the knife’s like buried in you, and you don’t seem to be daunted by it at all. And he pulls the knife out. And he’s kinda looking at you to see if you’re gonna do anything.

Beef: Ok, so now’s the part where I get to, like, either seriously hurt you, or can just, like, give me the knife.

Knife Justin: Oh! Uh, yeah. I mean, here. You can have it. I’m—This is what he told – I only had to stab you guys, so…

Beef: Ok. Now [overlapping]

Montrose: And how did that feel?

Beef: Good question!

Knife Justin: Can I, Can I be honest? I think I’m gonna go to, like, a night school or community college or something. I don’t think career wise this is for me.

Montrose: What’s your name there, bono?

Knife Justin: What?

Montrose: What’s your name?

Knife Justin: Justin.

#taz steeplechase #steeplechase justin #this took longer than it should have #also the transcript for ep 30 isn't up yet so I had to transcribe that bit by hand forgive any errors

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oscurascout · 2 months

Text

Y/N As A Doorman

From That's Not My Neighbor game

Part 2 (Part 1, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10)

A few hours had passed since the twins left again, and to be honest, being a doorman was more boring than I had thought. "Well, maybe it's because they are still at work," I thought as I lay in the chair. Surprisingly, the chair was very comfortable. I lay there with my headphones on, listening to music and scrolling through social media. That's when I saw that someone had arrived. I looked up and saw a woman with a stitched face—her mouth and eyes were stitched. "Okay, let's do this as professionally as possible," I thought as I got closer to the desk. I then noticed that she didn't give me any documents.

"Um, ma'am, I need your entry permit and ID," I said, looking at her. I tried hard not to show any emotion, but who could blame me when faced with something straight out of a horror movie? "That's why I was watching some doppelganger on Instagram, to prepare myself, but I guess nothing prepares you for the real thing," I thought as I waited for a response, but she remained silent and still.

*Sighs* "Okay, let's do this, ma'am. Since I see the, um, condition you are in, and well, I actually like you. Wait, not like romantically or anything, but like a friend. So, if you could please leave. I seriously don't want to do this, but if you don't, then I'll have to call the D.D.D.," I said, starting to sweat. I didn't say all of this just to be kind, but because I don't want this doppelganger after me once I leave work. I "fought" with the twins, but because they won't do anything. Those two are cowards, but these doppelgangers. Nope, they will probably do something to me. So basically, right now, I am the coward, but I don't care if it saves my skin.

I waited for her to do something, ready to push the red button, yet she only nodded and then left. I let out a sigh of relief. "I can't believe that worked!" I thought, smiling as I looked through the window and saw her leaving through the front door. I lay back in the chair and released another sigh of relief. "Okay, back to watching these weird videos," I thought, continuing to watch.

After a few hours of work, it was already 9, and honestly, I feel like I did an amazing job. I encountered approximately six doppelgangers, and three out of six people had come in. I only needed to wait for Francis and the two twins. "Two more hours, come on Y/N, you can do it," I thought, encouraging myself. Yet again, I saw a figure at the window. Not exactly a person, more like a doppelganger. This one had a white uniform and a hat with the words 'Milkman,' but his face immediately told me he was not human. Instead of normal eyes, there were two black holes with two little white dots as pupils and a black void as a smile.

*Sighs* "Here we go again," I thought as I scooted closer to the desk. He handed me all his documents, and I checked them over. I noticed the ID number was wrong, so I looked at the doppelganger. "Hey buddy, um, your ID number is wrong, but hey, you got everything else right," I said. I don't know if it was my imagination, but I think I saw him become happier. I returned his ID and threw the entry permit in the trash. "Well, buddy, since I have discovered the error, you could either leave on your own, or I can call the D.D.D.," I said, waiting for his decision. For the first time, he spoke.

'Francis' - “Hoon”

I blinked a few times. "Huh?" I said as I looked at him.

'Francis' - *happy* Hoon!“

I slowly nodded, and he took his ID and left. "Huh?" I said one last time before getting on my phone, trying to find a way to understand what the doppelganger said.

The clock struck 10, and I was dying of boredom. My phone died, and I was hungry, since the only things in the fridge were water and a bowl of fruit. I could feel my soul leaving when I saw the possibly real Frank or Fernando or whatever his name is!

He got close to the window, handed me his documents, and greeted me. I got up and started to read his documents.

Francis - “Mmm, long day?“

*looking at the ID* “..6, mm? Oh yeah, more than a long day. This lady didn't have any food when she said she did!" I said angrily. He gave me a small smile.

Francis - “Yeah, she's like that. Actually, it's probably better if you bring your own food after all. She only comes here to collect rent or pay the doorman.”

I stopped and looked at him with an 'Are you serious' face. He only chuckled, and I let out a sigh. I then slammed the green button. “This is why none of her doormen last. Actually, I don't care anymore. If those two brats don't arrive right now, then I'm leaving!” I said angrily. He only chuckled while grabbing his papers and entering. I locked the door and was about to start gathering my things when those two pretty models came in. The one in the yellow dress approached me first.

“Agh, just get over here, you two. I don't care anymore,” I said as I saw Selenne smirk at me, which made me angry. “You know, I had 6 or 7 doppelgangers today. I think the D.D.D could probably deal with the two that I have right now,” I said angrily. Selenne only bit her bottom lip, clearly understanding what I meant and what would happen if she said anything.

I pressed the green button and let them go in. After that, I grabbed my things and left. “I swear I'm going to eat a very big meal once I get back home,” I thought as I got into my car and drove away.

#that's not my neighbor #thats not my neighbor #francis mosses #hoon man #nacha mikaelys #nacha stitchface #y/n as a doorman #selenne sverchzt #elenois sverchzt

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inksandpensblog · 9 months

Text

AvA Sticktober 2023 | Prompt 1: Sticks

"And this," Orange proclaimed, flourishing the object in his hands, "is the master stick. Whoever picks this one up can use it to move other sticks during their turn. It also has the most points out of all the colors."

"Oh," Yellow's brow furrowed. "It's not just one point per stick?"

"I thought the colors were just so we could tell them apart," Red chimed in.

"Nope." Orange glanced at the rules. "It says that each individual stick has a set value of points, based on color: yellows are one, greens are two, blues are five, and reds are ten."

Yellow frowned, staring at the collection of sticks on the floor between them with a thoughtful hand held to his chin.

Green seemed to be of a similar mind, pulling out his phone and swiping his hand across the screen. "Greens are only two?"

"Uh, yeah? Why?"

"Are you mad that yours aren't worth as many points?" Blue guessed, a smirk dashing across his face at Green's answering pout.

Orange stared. "What? They're not- the colors aren't assigned to players. Anyone can pick up any color; otherwise there'd be a way to eliminate players. And there aren't any orange sticks, so I wouldn't be able to play if—"

Orange cut himself off when Green scowled at his phone, swiping at the screen with more vigor.

Red leaned in, peeking over Green's shoulder. "Huh, different variations?"

Green pushed him lightly away. "Yeah, I was just checking the numbers. There's other versions of the game where the colors are a different amount of points."

"But it's the same order every time," Red persisted, trying to lean back in as Green kept shoving at him. "See, look, red is always the most, and—"

"Shush, you're ruining this!"

"Green does have a point," Yellow ventured.

"Yeah, I do!"

"No, he doesn't," Blue maintained. "You two are just grumpy that you aren't more points."

"Guys," Orange insisted, "the colors have nothing to do with you."

Yellow shook his head. "I didn't mean like that! I mean it doesn't make sense that some colors are worth more when the game has the same number of sticks in each color!"

"Oh," came the answering chorus, followed by everyone joining Yellow in squinting at the collection of sticks on the floor.

"...huh, that is a good point..."

"Yeah, shouldn't the sticks that are worth more be rarer, or something?"

"That is odd..."

"...maybe we should just play it as one point per stick, then?" Blue suggested.

Orange scratched his head. "But where's the challenge, that way? If everything's worth the same value then there's no reason to not just go for the easiest ones every time."

"And speaking of easy, what about all the ones that end up outside of the pile?" Red gestured at the floor around which the collection of sticks lay. "Whoever goes first can just sweep all of those up on their first turn, they'll have a head start."

"Oh, we don't need to worry about that, actually." Green looked up from his phone. "This says that a lot of people have it so that those loose sticks are removed from play before the first player goes."

Orange nodded. "Okay, I like that, we'll do it that way."

"Hey, what if we use that to determine the value?" Blue volunteered. "We look at those loose sticks that get removed from play, and measure the value of each color based on how much of each one got taken out?"

"That...that could work, actually," Yellow mused.

Orange nodded again, a smile beginning to form on his own face. "We'll make it so that whichever color is present in the greatest volume is one point, next two, then five, and then the least-available color will be ten. If any of them tie, we can just re-drop the pile."

Green grinned. "Well, since you brought it up...this also says that there's a version where, on their turn, a player can decided to re-drop the pile instead of picking up a stick."

Orange froze. "Uh, I don't know if I want to worry about the value of each stick changing partway through the game."

"Oh, fine, play it safe."

"I'm not being safe, I'm trying to keep it fun for everybody. Including the scorekeeper."

"Eh, fair point."

"How many points is the master stick worth?" Blue piped up.

"None, right?" Yellow reasoned. "It helps you pick up more sticks; that's it's value. Oh, but wait," he frowned again, turning to Orange. "You said it had more points than the others, didn't you?"

Orange winced. "Yeah, actually. It's, uh, twenty-five."

"What?!"

"How is that fair?!"

"It's- it's not an automatic win! If it's at the bottom of the pile then—"

"But what if it isn't? What if it falls on the top?"

"Oh forget it just falling on top, what if it's one of the ones that rolls away? If we were keeping those in play, whoever had the first turn could sweep it up with the rest of 'em and then they'd have it for the whole game when they already have a head start!!"

"But we already decided we're not keeping them in play!" Orange raised his voice, waving his hands. "Why is it an issue then?!"

"Because points!"

"There's only one! It being more points is actually justified!"

"Maybe it would be, if that was all it did. But it also helps you pick up other sticks. Anyone who picks it up is already gonna be getting more points, even without it having twenty-five pre-attached! You have to admit, that's a little unfair."

"Well, I'm not hearing any better ideas! What, should we just set it aside and not have it in the game?"

"No, no!"

"What? Oh, no."

"No!!"

"Nobody's saying that."

Orange blinked at the sudden shift. "...no?"

"Yeah," Red insisted. "It's the only stick that can move the other sticks."

Green nodded. "Having it to obtain during the game is, like, it's own prize, regardless of who has the most points by the end. That's why we don't think it having its own points is fair."

Orange considered, taking a moment to breathe.

"Okay...what, then? Should we just have it be worth no points?"

They all spent a moment in thought.

"...what if we passed it around?"

Everyone looked at Blue.

"You mean," Yellow inquired, "once it's picked up, it has to be passed to the next person at the end of the turn? That kind of takes away that challenge, if everyone has it. And the prize-aspect."

But Blue shook his head. "Not quite; I mean, what if it gets passed around every time another stick is picked up?"

There was a pause, then everyone leaned forward.

"That way, it can't be used on every turn," Blue elaborated, "so whoever picks it up first isn't just guaranteed an easier time picking up sticks as the game continues. It'll be up to chance, whether anyone has it when their next turn starts."

"...I think...I like that," Orange murmured cautiously.

Blue nodded excitedly. "It also means that whoever is holding it by the end of the game will also be up to chance."

Orange's eyes widened. "So, it could still have the twenty-five points?"

"And it wouldn't be unfair," Green caught on, "because it wouldn't go into effect until the game ends."

"You know, if the master stick is only passed along when a stick is picked up, then if someone holding it were to purposefully botch their turn, they could prevent the person next to them from having the aid of the master stick at the start of their turn..." Yellow grinned.

"Ooh," Red wondered, "what if instead it starts at no points, but then has another point attached every time it's used successfully?"

"Whoa," Blue marveled. "So you can botch your turn and keep the master stick from your opponents, or increase the overall value of the master stick as you pass it along."

Orange felt his own grin form. "Oh. I do like that. Alright, are we all agreed?"

The quartet nodded enthusiastically.

"There's just one more thing: we need to repaint it."

"Huh?" Orange looked at Green, then at the others, then down at the black stick still in his hand. "Repaint it?"

"Like you said," Green teased. "There aren't any orange sticks in this game. Let's fix that."

#AvA Sticktober #Sticktober 2023 #animator vs animation #animation vs minecraft #ava shorts #avm shorts #ava enthusiasts

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acsis-narf · 2 months

Text

Real DecaP DARK Fanfic.

Warning: contains quite a bit of violence, blood, some swearing.

This isn't DecaP fluff fanfic (there's a bit at the end tho), I wrote this while imagining a DARK DecaP game. Harvard is an actual merciless bastard, and his teammates don't have a good time.

Writing this caused me some emotional pain, so be prepared.

(Also I'm so tired, this is like 5,500 words long... I didn't beta read it, no energy left 😅 I'm sorry if there're any wording mistakes)

Plot: The team experiences Harvard's darkness firsthand.

*Huff puff*

Carl was running alone in an abandoned building.

'Where is everyone?' Carl thought as he went around a corner.

*BANG*

'What was that?!' Carl heard a loud sound coming not far from where he is.

'Are the others in trouble?!' He tried to once again contact his teammates through his special police assigned phone, but it still didn't work.

'Damn it... I guess there's no other choice...' Carl began to turn the other way and started running to the source of the loud sound he had heard.

'Everyone... please be okay...!'

*bang*

"Hm? That was..." Zhang muttered to himself as he checked his laptop for any contacts from his teammates.

"It was quite loud, but still far off from where we are," said his partner, Manimani.

Her tone of voice signaled worry, yet still radiates a strong calmness.

"Any news from the others?" Manimani asked her partner.

"No, not yet..." Zhang shaked his head and began typing on his laptop.

"We've been separated from them for quite some time now... Did Mikey contact you?" asked Manimani again.

"Nope... This is just speculation on my part, but I think this old building is jamming our signals," Zhang begins to explain.

"Mikey just went in to search for Carl and Harvard, so maybe he hasn't had any new info to tell us," he continued.

"...but it's weird that Carl or Harvard hasn't contacted us at all, is what you're saying right?" Manimani said.

"Exactly," said Zhang as he finally tears his sight away from his laptop screen to face Manimani.

"Especially Carl," Manimani emphasized.

"Especially Carl... he's the biggest worrywart of this team," Zhang agreed.

"So, what should we do know? Me going in after them won't solve any problem," Manimani puts her hands on her hips, slightly annoyed.

"Right..." Zhang begins to think.

"Honestly we were so lucky to be regrouped with Mikey, only for him to immediately went off in search of those two," Manimani briefly remembers when they managed to accidentally find Mikey in this labyrinth of a building.

"Mikey!" Manimani shouted a bit to get her teammate's attention.

Mikey was running, about to turn around a corner when he heard Manimani's voice calling him.

"Goodness! What a coincidence! Good to see you two!" Mikey, noticing Manimani and Zhang, began to ran over to them whilst shouting a bit.

"A coincidence of great effort, this place is like a maze!" Zhang said, "Why didn't you contact us?"

"Oh! Yes, contact! Sorry, I forgot!" Mikey admitted, an embarrassed smile began to form on his face.

Zhang and Manimani sighed at the revelation, 'Knew it,' they both thought at the same time.

"Putting that aside for a moment, did you find anything? Where are our leader and his partner?" Manimani asked.

"Very weird. I found nothing, not a single person. And no Harvard or Carl either," Mikey said, perplexed.

"Wait, not a single person? But you came from the other way. We also didn't find anyone, so thinking logically, you should've had more chance in encountering those members!" the news shook Manimani.

"Yes, very weird. This is hideout of a big crime organization, correct?"

"Right, but we also didn't find a single person..." Manimani looked to Zhang for correction, and he only nods.

"Could it be that they already fleed?" Zhang raised a possibility.

"No way, Harvard clearly told us they'd be here. He was sure of it," And Harvard was rarely wrong when he's that sure, Manimani added in her mind.

"Damn it, this is turning into a mess. I thought we'd be able to instantly raise our achievements if we're able to caught a big crime organization by ourselves," Zhang sighed.

"I told you so," Manimani said perturbed.

'What a mess... This is what happens when you don't listen to Carl and me, we're like the only functioning brains with common sense in this team...!' Manimani swallowed her words, making the situation worse is the last thing she wants to do right now. Scolding Zhang can come after they're all together and safe.

"How about we search for leader and Carl together?" Mikey asked, sensing the disturbance in the air.

"Can't do, I wanna try contacting headquarters," Zhang said, rejecting Mikey's offer.

"I see, what about you Manimani?" Mikey turns his focus to Manimani.

"I want to, but Zhang's horrible at fights. Can't risk him getting jumped by the enemies while he's working on contacting headquarters," Manimani shook her head, a bit disappointed she couldn't go searching for her teammates.

"That's okay I understand, Zhang's the worse at fights in our team. I would also be worried if I were to left him alone in the middle of enemy territory," Mikey agrees.

Zhang didn't mind being spoken off like a deadweight at fights, he's good at other things after all. And he's about to demonstrate that other things right now as he opens his laptop and begins working.

"Alright, then see you guys later!" Mikey said as he began to run off to find Harvard and Carl.

"Ah, don't forget to contact us with updates!" Manimani shouted at Mikey's running figure that's getting farther and father away from them in just a few seconds.

She could see him making an 'OK' sign with his hand, and lets him leave, hoping he wouldn't forget again.

"Maybe we shouldn't have let him leave after all..." Manimani said a bit dejected.

"Don't say stupid things like that, if that happens then we three'll be sitting ducks here when there might be something happening to our two missing teammates," Zhang debated, he's already working on his laptop again.

"Right, Mikey's strong anyway, he'd be able to handle himself just fine. You say some pretty good stuff sometimes too, huh?"

"Yep, glad you understand," Zhang answer as he types on his laptop.

"How's the progress with contacting the headquarters?" asked Manimani.

"No luck, we're sitting ducks," Zhang answered, his typing stopped.

"Figures," Manimani sighed, "Still, what was that noise anyway?" she asked.

"Don't know, but it seems to be coming from the way Mikey ran off to, so he may be close to it. We're definitely far off though," Zhang said.

"Should we go there?" suggested Manimani.

Zhang closed his laptop with a clicked, "Sure, it's not like we're making progress here," and stood up.

*Huff puff*

Carl could hear himself breathing.

The building he's in is old and so very quiet.

He could only hear his footsteps and rapid breathing.

'That source of that noise should be close... Damn it!'

Carl thought about how it all came to this, and almost swore to himself to give Harvard a good beating when he sees him next.

'Harvard, you stupid...!'

He remembers when Harvard came to them with surefire proofs on a crime organization and a plan to catch them all by themselves.

He and Manimani tried to convince him otherwise and to at least tell their higher-ups, but Harvard wouldn't listen.

Not only that, he managed to gain Zhang's support by luring him in with talks of achievements and promotions or whatnot.

With Mikey not really supporting one or the other, they were at a tie.

But Harvard was reckless enough to tell them that he would even go by himself, so there's no use stopping him.

Carl has been friends with Harvard for at least 3 years and he had an ability to understand other people's hearts and, through them, their thoughts and personalities.

He understands his friend and partner's personality very well.

So he knew he couldn't stop him, but, "Okay, we'll come with," Manimani gasped, shocked at his decision.

"But, let me contact our instructors first. At the very least, they should know if we're about to attempt this. Things may go south after all, we may need their help," Manimani's relieved sigh reached his ears.

Harvard gave him a look, indicating 'not bad', then smirked and shook his head, "If they know, they would first stop us from going, then issue a formal request to their higher-ups to be allowed to catch them. It could take DAYS. There could be an information leak, and the entire organization could be gone from that building by the time that venerable permission comes out."

Carl couldn't say anything, especially when he thought about what's going on inside the force currently.

There were talks about traitors inside Broadstone Police Force.

"We're going, NOW," was what Harvard said last before he left the room.

Carl wasn't about to let that kill them all though, so he whipped up his phone and was about to call one of their instructors, Misae or Granger.

But just then, a message came in. From Harvard. Carl pales and closed his phone, he then followed the others and left the room, chasing after Harvard.

*BANG*

'It's that noise again, I'm getting close!' Carl thought as he fasten his pace.

*BANG BANG BANG*

'It's increasing?! What are they from? Gunshots? It's so loud, like metal...'

*SCREAM*

'What in the-?! I need to hurry up, someone's life could be in danger!'

Carl slowed his pace as he gets closer to the source of the loud metal noises and screams.

He very carefully peeked inside the room where the noises originated from.

'What is... ugh-!' Carl held his breath.

*BANG BANG BANG*

"Agh! Spare me!" pleaded a bloody man covered his head with his hands.

"Sure, once you tell me what I want to know!" a voice resembling his partner's, Harvard's, told him.

"I already told you, I don't know anything- UGH!" the man's words were cut short by a metal pipe hitting his side.

*BANG*

"Harvard...?" Carl stood shocked, unable to let a single word out.

"I'll give you another chance!"

"I don't know, please-"

*BANG*

Carl reflexively turned his face away and closed his eyes.

When he opened them again, he took a glance at the room they were in.

There was a lot of red splattered on the floor and the wall, and...people. Unmoving people. Dead people.

Carl felt nauseous.

"C'mon, spill it!" Harvard demanded.

No, if this goes on...!

"Harvard stop...!" Carl heard himself scream.

Harvard seemed to hear him, his hand holding the steel pipe froze and he turned around to face him.

"...Carl," was all that Harvard said in this situation. Carl could hear the annoyance in his tone of voice.

"What were you doing?!" Carl asked, terrified.

"I was just beating information out of our suspect here," answered Harvard, his hand still holding the steel pipe.

"Oh goodness..." Carl could feel himself dizzier by the second, his partner was showing absolutely no signs of guilt.

"Look at all these people Harvard! Y-you... What did you do to them?! They couldn't be...dead?" Carl asked in disbelief.

"Don't worry, I made sure they're still alive," Harvard said, his patience getting thinner.

"That's not the problem you-"

"It was self-defense. They attacked me first with steel pipes, I just returned the favor," his voice exasperated.

Carl felt that Harvard is saying, 'Are you done yet?' with his body language.

"Harvard, j-just put down that steel pipe first," Carl begged.

Harvard sneered, "Or what? You'll beat me up?"

There was no way Carl could win against Harvard, his fighting prowess is second only to Mikey in their team, while Carl is only as strong as Manimani.

Beating Harvard in a hand-to-hand combat is like asking for broken bones and pain.

Yet, he can't use any of his official police assigned weapons, like his gun, he needs permission from their higher-ups.

And he for sure didn't even tell their direct higher-ups, their instructors, that they would even be here, in this mess.

'Harvard's mess...' thought Carl.

Carl stayed quiet, unable to answer Harvard's provocation.

"Just like I thought," sighed Harvard as he went back to terrorize the bloody man that couldn't even stand up anymore.

"Now, tell me what you know, or I'll bust your head open."

"I-I don't know, I don't know...-"

*BANG*

"UGH!!" the man let out a muffled scream and coughed out some blood.

"HARVARD STOP!!" before Carl realized, he was running to stop his partner.

Carl tackled him from behind.

Harvard's footing wobbled, but he easily pushed Carl away.

Carl landed on his back, "Guh...!"

"Carl, I'm warning you, don't get in my way," Harvard's voice was serious and laced with anger.

"You can't do this! This isn't right!" said Carl as he attemped to get up.

"And who decides on that?" Harvard sneered.

"The law does!" Carl yelled.

"Well, the law is wrong."

Harvard's eyes looked down on him, and Carl trembled from the fear and pressure.

Harvard's eyes were merciless, his eyes now were like the eyes of criminals they've caught together before.

Dark, cold, merciless, cruel...

Carl couldn't bear to look at them.

Harvard turned away from Carl and looked back at the man lying down in his own blood.

"Tell me, what do you know about the Clown case from 10 years ago?"

The man didn't answer and only laid still while covering his head with his hand pitifully.

"Answer me!!" Harvard screamed as he swung the metal pipe once more.

"HARVARD NO!!"

Carl ran over and gripped his partner's hand that's holding the steel pipe tightly, trying to get him to let it go.

"Harvard, please don't do this!" Carl cried.

"Carl, LET. ME. GO!" Harvard's strength outpowered Carl and he swung down the pipe to hit Carl's upper arm.

"Aagh!!" Carl wailed as he fell down.

Harvard sighed annoyingly as he steadied himself, he lifted his hand again to hit the man.

"Harvard no...!" Carl clenched Harvard's leg, pleading for him to stop this madness.

Harvard kicked him back and swung down his metal pipe on the man again.

*BANG*

"Harvard no! This is wrong! Please stop it already!!" Carl could feel tears streaming down his face.

"Is this your justice?! Harvard!!" Carl cried at the top of his lungs.

"That's right, this IS my justice," Harvard coldly answered.

Carl's heart fell.

Why am I so weak? Carl hated himself at this moment.

If only the others were here, any one of them could do a much better job at stopping Harvard than he could...

"Harvard STOP!!!" Carl forced himself to get up, the pain in his upper arm tearing through him mercilessly, but he hold it back.

Carl tackled Harvard from behind again, and he felt a sharp pain stabbing his stomach.

Harvard had elbowed his stomach.

Carl could taste blood in his mouth, but he held his ground.

"Har..vard!!" Carl swung his fist to Harvard's face, but Harvard caught it.

"Stand. Back. Carl."

Harvard kicked his stomach and threw him back.

The impact from hitting the ground made Carl gagged on his blood.

Carl felt pitiful.

If only anyone from his team were here, they could surely stop Harvard.

Carl couldn't, Carl never could. He was too weak, too fragile, too much of a pampered crybaby to do anything.

He was scared, terrified. He couldn't even properly look at his friend without trembling so much.

He wants to go home to his family. He wants to sleep in his soft and large bed, and have his parents and elder siblings tell him that everything will be okay.

He hated this. Why did he even go to Police College for? He should've stayed and continued his family's business. What dreams? Being a hero? Laughable.

"Uhh...uwaaaa..." Carl cried.

He couldn't even lift his arms anymore, one of them hurt too badly and he just has no more energy left to lift the other anymore.

'It hurts...' Carl's whole body was screaming in pain, he was coughing up blood, but most of all, his heart hurt.

His friend and partner is doing something so horrible, yet he couldn't even stop him.

Since he's 2 years older, he always feels like should show Harvard the way, that he should guide him on the right path.

But he failed, miserably.

He is a failure.

*Sniff sniff*

Unbeknownst to Carl, Harvard was silently watching him, his expression contorting slightly.

Harvard suppressed the feelings in his heart, and began to interrogate the man again.

"I'll ask again, what do you know about the Clown case from 10 years ago?"

The man curled up and stayed silent.

"I know you know something. I've obtained information that before you founded this criminal organization 8 years ago, you were in contact with Clown. My source even told me that you were sending hit list to them."

The man kept silent.

"Tell me, 10 years ago, were you the one that gave the instruction to kill a woman surnamed Marks?" his voice intensified.

"..." silence.

"Hahaha... is that how you wanna play? Fine."

*BANG BANG BANG*

"You know, maybe you'd be interested to know who's the source of all my information on you," Harvard gave a forced smile.

"Do you have any idea of an old woman and her daughter who's surnamed 'Hart'?"

"...!" the man responded slightly.

Harvard smirked, "The old lady has trouble with her left leg and walks with a cane, while the daughter has burn marks on her right hand. Do you suppose know who they are?"

'...You-" the man's teeth clenched.

"Willing to talk now?"

"What did you do to them?" the man face Harvard with a new fiery determination.

Harvard let out a geniune laugh, "Ahaha, nothing. Yet."

The man lunged at Harvard as if his wounds aren't bothering him.

"Heh!" Harvard easily evaded him, "If you tell me everything you know and did with Clown, nothing would happen to them."

"You...monster!" the man screamed as he lunged forward to attack Harvard.

Harvard just clicked his tongue and kicked him back, "Monster? If I'm a monster, then what the fuck are you huh?"

"You killed people, you terrorized them, you were so evil that you wife and kid left you AND told all of your wrongdoings to the police to get you in jail. You're a fucking PIG in a human society."

"SHUT UP!!" the man yelled and got up again.

"You're the shit of society, the least you could do is own up for being a shit and tell me everything I want to know from you."

The man attempted to tackle Harvard, but Harvard dodged and hit him hard with his metal pipe.

*BANG*

"Feel like talking now?"

*Cough cough* the man coughs up a lot of blood.

"Harvard...stop...he's gonna die...sniff," Carl tried to force himself to stand up again.

He's a failure, sure, but if he and the man were gonna die in his partner's hands, the least he could do is to reduce that kill count from 2 to 1.

He's used to cleaning up after Harvard anyway, one more time wouldn't hurt.

"Stand down Carl. What am I gonna tell your prestigious family if you get hurt any more than this?" Harvard sighed.

Carl clenched his teeth and forced himself to get up again, and, oddly enough, he couldn't quite feel the pain anymore. Is that good or bad? He was supposed to be knowledgeable about this, but he couldn't quite remember. He feels dizzy.

"ZHANG, MANIMANI, MIKEY, HELP!!!" Carl screamed loudly.

Carl couldn't do it alone, so he called for help. After all, that's what teammates are for.

*Huff puff*

"This place is a labyrinth!" Manimani said between breaths.

"Tell me about it," Zhang unenthusiastically replied.

"At least we are together!" Mikey added.

"I'm glad we found you! But why were you still so close to our location?" Manimani asked.

"I got lost! This place is a labyrinth!" Mikey said a bit too enthusiastically.

"Wow," Zhang replied.

*BANG BANG BANG*

"We're already so much closer to the source of those loud noises, just a bit more!" Manimani said.

"I hope Harvard and Carl are already there, I don't think I could manage to run around again to search for them," Zhang said, out of breath.

"Don't worry, I could still go for another run!" Mikey said with a reassuring smile.

"Gee, good for you," said Zhang.

*BANG*

"Another loud noise! It's so close now!" said Manimani.

"C-Can we take a short break?" Zhang pleaded.

"Not now! We're so close..." rejected Manimani.

"B-But I'm so tired...can't go on running...!"

"That's why we always told you to train with us! But you always refused!"

Manimani and Zhang were about to start a scuffle.

"ZHANG, MANIMANI, MIKEY, HELP!!!"

"Huh, that was...!" Manimani was suprised for a second, but immediately began to search for the source of the voice.

"Carl...?" Zhang added, surprised and out of breath.

"Here! Let's go!" Mikey acted first, the two then followed behind him.

"Carl!!" Mikey called back.

Carl could feel his heart literally jumped with joy and relieve hearing that voice.

Mikey was the strongest in their team, if anyone could stop Harvard, it's him!

Carl sniffled for one last time before steadying himself, 'That's right, this isn't time for crying. We need to stop Harvard. We need to help him!'

"Mikey! We're here!" Carl called out to Mikey again.

Harvard's expression showed his displease, 'More annoyances...'

"CARL!" Mikey's loud voice was even louder as he got closer.

And he finally managed to find them.

Carl almost cried again out of joy when he saw that Zhang and Manimani were also with him.

"Carl- What in the?!" Manimani spoke first, she scanned the room and immediately formed a hypothesis.

"What the..." Zhang was second, he turned paler as his gaze traced the people lying on the ground in blood.

"Oh goodness..." Mikey was the last as he looked between Harvard and Carl in confusion and horror.

"Carl, what is happening?!" Manimani asked agitated.

"Speak later! Mikey, you need to restrain Harvard!" Carl's orders were straight and sure without a hint of doubt.

That, coupled with Harvard's annoyed expression and his steel pipe, were enough to mobilize the three people who just arrived.

"I don't really get what's happening, but I need you to drop that steel pipe leader!" Manimani demanded.

Harvard sighed, and finally dropped the steel pipe.

"Mikey, go get that man lying beside Harvard!" Carl instructed.

Mikey carefully went over to Harvard's side.

As he bended over to grab the man, Harvard's kick swerved upward aiming right on Mikey's stomach.

Fortunately, Mikey managed to dodge at the last second due to his natural fast reaction and body control.

"Harvard...?" Mikey got into his fighting pose as Harvard picks his steel pipe up again.

"Manimani, Zhang! Help Mikey restrain Harvard. Subdue him if necessary," Carl quietly said.

Manimani and Zhang gave a short nod as they ran over to Harvard.

Harvard was now surrounded by his 3 teammates.

"I don't know what's going on, but I don't want any trouble," Zhang said to Harvard.

"Harvard, drop that steel pipe. I'm warning you," said Manimani.

"..." Mikey stayed quiet, his fighting pose maintained.

...

After some very long seconds, Harvard finally spoke up, "Try me."

Mikey went first, his fist aiming at Harvard's stomach.

Harvard dodged him as his steel pipe swerved to hit Zhang who's coming from behind him.

"Uugh!" Zhang grunted in pain as the steel pipe hit his side.

"Harvard!" Manimani yelled as she tried to kick Harvard.

Harvard dodged again and was about to hit Manimani's side with his steel pipe as Mikey suddenly came from behind Harvard and restrained him.

With his arms locking Harvard's torso, Mikey pulled him back.

Due to Mikey's height, Harvard was currently lifted a few centimeters off the ground.

Manimani rushed over and quickly tore the steel pipe from Harvard's hand.

She also put handcuffs on him to make sure he can't attack anymore.

"It's over, mister!" she said to Harvard as she turned back to check on Zhang just as quick as she came.

Mikey, relieved, let his guard down for a second.

Just then, Harvard tried to kick Mikey back.

"Mikey focus!" Carl yelled.

Mikey immediately let go of Harvard, swiftly pulled up behind him and, with one fell swoop, knocked him out.

The unconscious Harvard immediately fell, but is caught by Mikey.

Relieve washed over Carl as his legs buckled and he fell down himself.

Looks like his body finally gave up.

The last thing he could hear was Manimani screaming his name.

...

Carl woke up in a hospital room.

"You're awake?" a familiar voice called out from beside him, it was his eldest brother, Alfred.

"Elder brother...?" Carl called out sluggishly.

Alfred gave a nod, "Do you know why you're here?"

Carl tried to think back and remembered Harvard's madness.

"H-Harvard, what happened to him?" Carl asked, worried.

"Don't worry, he was just knocked out by your other teammate. No other external injuries were found, it's almost a miracle," his brother answered.

"How is he now? Will he be punished...?"

"Hm, it seems like his higher-ups will give him some sentences for going off alone and badly injuring a key person in the case," his brother calmly told him, "but, all of the other people he injured confessed that they attacked first, all of them just lost."

"So, it's really self-defense?" Carl asked.

"Yes, it seems so. The only injuries he caused because of his own agenda, were to the man who was the key suspect and leader of the crime organization that used the building as their base of operation and to his teammates, including you," explained his brother.

"But," Alfred continued, "none of the injuries he caused were life-threatening, case in point, the worst injury you got is a cracked left upper arm, and to the man, quite a bit of cracked and broken bones."

"He also caused injuries on your, the man's, and one of your teammate's stomachs, but none of it was life-threatening," Alfred concluded his explanation.

"I see..." Carl said as he quietly digest all of the information.

"Keeping a lion and disguising it as a cat is quite dangerous, sometimes it causes this sort of unexpected trouble, but the benefits it gives to the Police organization are also immense. It could even be said that this sort of trouble is just a small price to pay for all of its given benefits," Alfred continued, "The city has never been this peaceful in years."

Carl listened quietly.

"He didn't want to hurt you nor your other teammate, Carl. Trust me, I already had the chance to spoke to him for a lengthy while," Alfred puts a hand on Carl's shoulder.

"As for the man though, he was quite fortunate that your partner still wants to be on the side of the law, not against it."

"He still has use for it, you mean?" Carl asked with a painful smile.

"I don't have an answer to that, maybe you should ask your partner about it. Although, I doubt that, at this point in time, he knows the answer himself," Alfred pats Carl's head and gives him a soft smile, "Be there for him, why don't you? I know you could never leave him alone."

Carl clenched the blanket tightly.

"Harvard Marks could be the one to greatly alter Broadstone. As Oxfords, we will continue to be watching over him," Alfred said as he began to get up.

"...for the Oxford's sake?" Carl asked, almost bitterly.

His brother gave a smile and said, "A lion who obediently follows his owner, is nothing more than a cat. Harm his owner though..."

Somehow, in Carl's eyes, his brother's smile seemed terrifying.

The day is turning dark as Carl said farewell to his 3 teammates, Manimani, Zhang, and Mikey who came to visit him in his hospital room.

Zhang's injury was pretty light and had already healed fully, maybe Harvard really held back against them after all.

Carl too, aside from his cracked upper arm bones, all of his other injuries were healing rapidly.

"What did the doctor say?" Manimani asked.

"He said that I'm actually able to be discharged already, but my family wanted me to at least stay for another 3 days, jut to be on the safe side," Carl explained.

"Gee, your people sound great!" Manimani said with a smile.

"Yeah, we're a tight-knit family," Carl gave a wry laugh.

They had a pretty nice converstation.

The 3 were visiting after all of the 'Harvard caused' paperworks were done, and stayed for about an hour.

It seemed like Harvard just acted like his usual self back in their office, much to their chagrin.

Harvard didn't tell them anything, or even if he was sorry.

He did, however, bought Zhang lunch today, which was a very rare occurence.

Maybe that's his way of apologizing, Mikey suggested.

Zhang, reluctant at first, soon maximized Harvard's offer and bought lunch enough for the other 2 as well, much to Harvard's chagrin.

Carl laughed at their story, and briefly wondered when he'll be able to talk to Harvard again, and how'll their conversation flow after this incident.

After the 3 left, Harvard immediately visited him.

"I thought they'd never left," Harvard said.

"You were waiting for them to leave? Why?" Carl asked.

Harvard awkwardly scratched his hair and said, "Explanation, I thought I owe YOU at least that much."

Harvard seated himself on the chair beside Carl's bed.

"So yeah, about your injuries..." Harvard started.

"My bad."

Carl waited to hear Harvard's continuation, but it seemed that there was no continuaton.

"Wait, that's it?" Carl asked baffled, "Where's the explanation?"

"Yeah, maybe I changed my mind," Harvard gave a joking smile.

"Don't joke around!" admonished Carl, still he's kind of happy to see Harvard back to his usual self.

"...10 years ago, my mom was killed by Clown," Harvard began.

Yes, Carl knew about that.

"The man I was trying to get info out of? 10 years ago, he was the one giving out hit lists to Clown."

"Huh? But, Clown was a serial murderer, not a hitman," Carl said confused.

"On the cover that is, I have information that suggested Clown actually took requests from big corporations," Harvard said serious.

"W-wait, are we alright with talking about this stuff here?" Carl looked to the surveillance camera on the corner of the room.

"Don't worry, I talked with your brother. This hospital belongs to the Oxford right? He'll be able to do something about it, besides, it's not really super-secret anymore. I heard the higher-ups plan to release this info to the masses soon, since Clown's long dead," Harvard calmly explained.

"A-alright, then please, continue."

"During the course of my investigation into Clown, I met the 'Hart' mother and daughter. The mother told me about her divorced husband being a possible carrier linking Clown to the bigshots."

"Though she said 'possible', her demeanor showed that she was sure of it," Harvard said while thinking back on the mother-daughter duo.

"Next, I researched into her husband's past and current whereabouts, and, lo and behold, turns out now he's the leader of a crime organization right here in Broadstone," Harvard eyed Carl meaningfully.

Carl doesn't need further explanation, he know that the divorced husband was the man from the building.

"So, it was all connected to your mother?" Carl asked after some time thinking.

"Everything, is connected to my mom. Everything I do is for her," Harvard answered, his eyes directly locking into Carl's.

"I admit, I lost control," Harvard remembered the state Carl was in, coughing up blood and crying on the ground. Something inside him hurted, "So, my bad."

Carl's right hand slowly reached up to the top of Harvard's hair, and he gently pat him.

"Next time, Harvard, we'll handle it together," Carl spoke gently.

Harvard made an expression like a sad and guilty kitty, making Carl smile a bit, "There, there."

As the youngest of the Oxford siblings, Carl only had older siblings, so he had always wanted to have a younger sibling.

When he met Harvard and, subsequently, as they got closer, Harvard's existence felt like the younger brother he had never had but always wanted to have.

Sometimes Harvard made him angry, other times he made him happy.

Sometimes Carl couldn't take his eyes from Harvard lest he'll make trouble, and sometimes Carl couldn't help but to depend on Harvard.

Being with Harvard was as frustrating as it was fun.

Carl both adore and admire Harvard, but deep in his heart, there was a sense of uncertainty and fear as well.

Carl knew Harvard so well, he fears himself getting too close to the darkness inside Harvard.

A deep, black, unending darkness.

It could consume Carl whole if it so wishes to.

He briefly wondered, what he means to Harvard.

And, if the time comes when the darkness inside Harvard is unleashed, would their bond endure?

------

Author's note: if you read this far, thank you!!

Also, before you ask, "Clown's dead?"

Yes, I headcanon (for this fic) that they're already dead, since at the end of the 'Concept Image Trailer', Harvard said that he wants to meet Clown in DecaSim.

That raises the question: "Why not just meet him in real life?" Unless he CAN'T.

#decapolice #harvard marks #carl oxford #zhang tsinghua #manimani manoa #mikey princeton #fanfic #pretty dark decapolice fanfic #careful harvard is pretty brutal #poor carl #i feel bad for him did i go overboard 😅

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