Hi! I hope requests are still open! I would love a Roy! Reader x Mattson with the “No, no. Leave your clothes on” prompt.
Lukas Matsson x (fem Roy) Reader
prompt: No, no. Leave your clothes on.
It was your birthday, which meant it was Roman’s birthday, which meant that the Roy twins were going to burn down the town that night. You arrived at Roman’s townhouse with a bottle of champagne under each arm. You sauntered past the bodyguards at his door, weaving through crowds of high-profile guests, until you finally saw the familiar head of light brown hair, famously disheveled for the occasion.
“Hey, whose birthday is it?” you teased.
Roman turned to greet you with a smirk.
“Who invited you?”
He kissed you on the cheek and took the champagne bottles, eyeing them appreciatively.
“Late to your own party, I see,” he said.
“It’s only half my party.”
“What are you going to do with your half?”
“I have some ideas.”
You peered around at the guests. Roman groaned dramatically.
“Oh my god, no,” he said.
“What?”
“I know who you’re looking for.”
“Well, is he here?”
“I’m not telling you.”
“Come on, I just need someone to flirt with tonight.”
“Well, you picked the wrong person. Lukas is incapable of flirting.”
“Can you just chill out? I’m going to go look for him.”
You turned and disappeared into the crowd, leaving Roman with a bottle of champagne in each hand.
“Fuck.”
He squeezed through the crowd into the kitchen, where chefs were churning out hors d’oeuvres at rapid speed.
“Can someone relieve me of these hefty bottles?” he called.
“Serving drinks at your own party?”
Roman turned, coming face to face with Lukas Matsson, hands in pockets and dressed for the occasion. Roman put down the bottles and wiped his palms.
“Hey man. You look spiffy. What are you doing in the kitchen?”
“Avoiding people.”
“You know,” Roman said grudgingly, “My sister was actually looking for you.”
“Siobhan?”
“No, other sister. Y/N.”
“Oh. Looking for me?”
“Pretty sure that’s what I just said.”
Lukas ran a hand through his cropped blonde hair.
“Huh. Interesting.”
“Listen man, I like you,” said Roman, taking a step closer. “We have a good thing going, yeah?”
“Sure.”
“I’m not going to tell you not to fuck my sister tonight.”
“Okay. But?”
“But I’d really like it if you didn’t fuck my sister tonight.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“I can’t make any promises,” Lukas admitted.
Roman threw his hands up.
“Fuck it. I know. If you do, just don’t let me find out. Please.”
“I get it. Do you want to open that champagne?”
“Yes please.”
“Happy birthday.”
“Fuck off.”
Your search for Lukas had been futile so far. In every room, you were served another drink. You downed glass after glass, flitting from group to group in search of the Swede. By midnight you were staggering on your feet, giddy and woozy from champagne. You collapsed into an arm chair by the fireplace, digging into a tray of canapés. You vaguely felt a presence approaching behind you.
“I heard you were looking for me.”
You twisted around, gazing up at Lukas Matsson in a black blazer and black t-shirt, hands in pockets.
“Oh shit,” you said.
Lukas grinned and sat down in the chair across from you.
“Happy birthday,” he said.
“I didn’t think you were here. I thought you hated parties.”
“I do hate parties.”
“Then why are you here?”
“Because you invited me.”
You smiled, raising your glass in a toast.
“Thanks for coming to my party.”
You stood up suddenly, swaying on your feet.
“Shit. I don’t want Roman to see us together.”
You staggered forward. Lukas swiftly stood, catching your arm.
“Take it slow,” he said.
“Sorry. It’s the champagne. And you’re making me light-headed. I think I need to sit back down.”
“Is there a quieter room?”
“Take me over there.”
With an arm around your shoulder, Lukas led you through the crowd. You slipped into one of the guest bedrooms, closing the door behind you. It was quiet and dark in the room. You collapsed onto the bed as Lukas flipped on one of the lamps.
“Lukas,” you said. “Can you sit with me?”
You felt him sit down on the edge of the bed.
“You know,” you said, “I actually hate birthdays.”
“Why is that?”
“They make me sad. I’m getting older. And year after year, I never get what I really want.”
“What do you really want?”
You turned your head, gazing up at him.
“Right now I want you.”
He gazed back at you, eyes glittering in the dim light.
“Is that so?” he said softly.
You sat up, edging towards him. The room was quiet, detached from the party just outside, and you could hear the sound of his breath as you moved closer. You brushed your hand along his.
“Yeah,” you whispered.
He lifted his hand and grazed the back of his fingers along your jaw, your cheek.
“Do you know how amazing you look tonight?” he murmured. “You’re glowing.”
“That’s probably the champagne. And you’re making me hot all over.”
His brows furrowed with a surge of desire. He ran a thumb over your lower lip. You let out a soft breath. Then, cupping his hand to your face, he drew you in and kissed you softly. A deep, gentle kiss. You slid your body towards his, feeling the heat through his shirt.
Growing flushed, you threw one leg over him and straddled his lap. He slid his hands over you lightly, tentatively. You took his hand, guiding it over your body more firmly.
You pulled back, gazing down into his face, each of you wearing a breathless grin. Then you stood, positioning yourself between his knees. You began to shrug down the straps of your sleeveless blouse.
He reached for you, taking your hand.
“No, no. Leave your clothes on.”
You looked at him questioningly, cheeks flushed, the strap of your shirt hanging down. He gently slipped it back over your shoulder with a finger.
“I think you’re a bit drunk.”
He took your hand and kissed your fingers gently.
“Not that I wouldn’t love to…”
“Is that the only reason?” you asked. “Because I’m drunk?”
“That’s the main reason.”
“Roman didn’t ask you not to sleep with me?”
“Well, he did. But that wouldn’t stop me. I assure you.”
You smiled, reassured, then curled up on top of the sheets.
“Will you stay with me?”
In response, Lukas removed his blazer, hanging it on the back of a nearby chair. He curled up behind you, cradled against your body. You lay your head on his arm, feeling his warmth, his breath on your neck.
“Happy birthday,” he whispered. “Don’t be sad.”
“I’m not. Not anymore.”
Morning light crept through the thin curtains. The party was over, the guests had departed in the early hours. Roman stumbled through the house, looking for stragglers. Looking for you.
He opened the guest room door and gazed inside. Stunned.
You were curled against Lukas, who was flat on his back, your head and arm across his chest. Both of you still fully clothed, shoes and all. Lukas’s eyes peeked open at the noise. He and Roman shared a long look. Then Roman gave a small nod.
“Thank you,” he mouthed, then silently shut the door behind him.
Closing his eyes again, Lukas pulled you closer, listening to the hum of traffic outside, as the light crept over your bodies.
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a few reminders because i’m tired and angry
fandom is a hobby, not a form of activism
adult women aren’t inherently creepy for being in fandom and having hobbies apart from raising babies and doing taxes
the vast majority of people pushing back against the worrying trend of instigating harassment over fictional characters and relationships aren’t incest supporters or pedophiles, actually
liking a m/f ship doesn’t make someone a dirty heterosexual invading your space
preferring gay ships doesn’t make you ‘’woke’’ and good
no one owes you a disclaimer that they are a good person who recognizes that their favorite fictional villain’s actions are evil and that they don’t condone those actions irl
liking a fictional villain is in no way comparable to advocating abuse/murder/genocide/etc and you’re a fucking idiot if you believe that
just because a woman is attracted to a fictional villain doesn’t mean she’s promoting toxic relationships or going to end up in a toxic relationship. assuming women can’t tell fiction and reality apart stinks of internalized misogyny
some rando’s a/b/o fanfics have none of the level of influence that popular tv shows and movies spreading propaganda have
no one owes you a detailed description of their traumas and mental health problems
abusive relationships are not the same as enemies to lovers ships
y’all need to chill the fuck out over people, relationships, actions and events that don’t actually exist and learn how to enjoy and discuss them like normal people
fandom is a hobby, not a form of activism
feel free to add more
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