makemeasong | Open post/meme overflow 💫

[ Well, she said it, and Roy feels so happy he could laugh - and he actually does because did she seriously call him a dork back? God, he loves her for that. ]

You think I'm more of a dork than you? Fuck off.

[ He may be romantic enough to have driven to her place in the middle of the night and given her a sweet love declaration, but he's still Roy Kent who tells his girlfriend to fuck off, which really means I fucking love you (swearing is his love language). And despite telling her to fuck off, he does the exact opposite and lifts her up into his arms, her legs wrapping naturally around his waist, his hands under her thighs, holding her in place. Picking her up is one of his favourite things, whether it's for an embrace like this, a piggyback, or holding her up while he fucks her in the shower. He loves raising her to his level so she doesn't have to stretch to reach his mouth.

His chest tightens too when she brings up her mother because he knows how much pain that's caused her, and maybe she won't ever fully heal from that, the same way he carries his grief from his grandad's death with him always. But together they're healing one another, and together they've made a home for themselves in each other's hearts.

He wipes a stray tear from her cheek, then he leans in and kisses her. ]

[ They're a good match in that way; her parents were too. If you can't laugh about yourself with the person you love, then who can you? They both know how to pull that out of one another in their own, unique ways. Clara laughs too, and by the time he lifts her up and her legs wrap around his hips, she's grinning. Her dimples are deep, and her eyes are shining, and she absolutely loves it when Roy picks her up.

Hands locking around the back of his neck, she doesn't get a chance to say anything else before he kisses her, and that's just fine with Clara. She can take a minute to explore his mouth and let it sink in that he loves her. Actually fucking loves her.

She only breaks the kiss to press her lips along his jawline, then against his neck, managing to speak in between kissing him. ]

Fine, fine, I'll take this one, since I'm such a dork I made it my job to teach other little dorks.

[ And she loves it. Not as much as kissing him though, and as she does so, she begins to wave backward in the general direction of her bedroom with one hand. ]

[ He smiles not just a little but with his teeth when her mouth drifts from his lips to his jaw, to his neck, and he responds by gravitating a hand to her butt, giving it a cheeky squeeze. ]

Mmm, yeah, fucking love you and your little dork army...

[ Now he's said he loves her once, apparently he can't get enough of saying it. And he takes the hint, moving with her in his arms towards her bedroom. It's not long before they're through the doorway and he's fallen forwards onto her bed, Clara underneath him. He soon presses her down into her mattress and starts kissing at her neck, forgetting to use less teeth because she's got work in the morning and she probably shouldn't show up with lovebites in front of a classroom full of kids - but that's exactly what they are, bites to her neck, made with love. ]

Can I sleep over? [ He murmurs against her skin, as if there's any chance she might say no. ]

[ She has no idea how he can make her laugh the way he does, and she does, right before he's navigating and kissing. By the time he's speaking into her neck, it really could've been any question, the answer would have been the same and just as breathless. ]

Uh-huh.

[ That brief consent to a sleepover is all he gets before she's tilting her neck toward the other side in encouragement. She should stop him, but that's a problem for A.M. Clara; right now, she doesn't want him to stop. She loves him, and as it turns out, she loves hearing him say it, those words, sometimes three, sometimes two, but coming out of Roy's mouth, Clara doesn't just believe it, she feels it. This isn't anywhere in the realm of what she thought really, deeply being in love with someone would feel like.

She gets why her dad was a shell for so long after her mum died. There's no part of her mind that wants to think of a day without Roy. But for now, all of that is easily swept aside as she reaches down for the hem of his shirt. Only pulling apart to tug it off and over his head, she pauses to look at him, just for a second. ]

I really fucking love you, Roy Kent. Like, a lot. Just so you know.

[ She can't say it enough to him, just like him, she isn't sure if she'll stop now. ]

[ A.M. Clara might have to wear a neckerchief tomorrow, or an AFC Richmond scarf if she has nothing else, which won't look weird at all indoors...

With her tugging on his shirt, he raises his arms to help pull it over his head, revealing his chest in all its hairy glory. Beaming down at her words, he allows himself a second to soak in this moment. A look of realization passes in his eyes, one of his fuuuck moments, only he looks a lot happier about what he's just figured out. ]

Remember on our first date, you asked me if I could travel back in time, what moment I would go back to? [ He thought it was just one of those icebreaker questions, not knowing just how relevant it was to her life. I had no fucking clue, and I never really thought about it again...

[ He has his answer now. ] I'd go back to this. Right here, right now, one hundred fucking percent.

[ And that's saying something - out of all the greatest moments of his football career, he'd still choose this. He wants to be loved more than he's ever wanted football trophies. ]

[ Clara waits, and what he says means so much to her, pulls at her heart in such a specific way, that she feels her throat tighten. She can't even find words because what he's said means so much to her. reaching out, she cradles his face in both hands so that her thumbs can move over the apples of his cheeks. ]

You're perfect.

[ He isn't, he really isn't. She isn't either, but he makes her feel like she is, and that's all that matters to her. He makes her feel a lot of things and she fully intends to show him. ]

I'm keeping you.

[ With that, she tugs him down into a deep kiss, working on the rest of their clothes. She's tactile and craves their skin touching almost as much as anything else, as content to be held against him as pleasured by him. Though, she'd be lying if she said she wasn't ready to give Roy the best night of his life after all of this. ]

[ Let it be known, Roy probably has some abandonment issues from leaving home at a young age to train for football. He thinks back to that time and wishes his parents had made more of an effort to keep him at home, at least a couple more years. Long enough to spend more time with his grandad. Part of him wishes they'd decided keeping him close was more important than him building a future football career, but he probably wouldn't be where he is now if he hadn't gone to Sunderland.

So Clara's words mean a lot - they feel like a promise she won't break. He can't think too much about it or he'll turn into an emotional wreck, so instead he focuses on showing her just how much he loves her, through the power of intimacy rather than words.

Down to his boxer briefs, he pulls down the last thing Clara is wearing - her shorts, dragging her underwear down with them. He spreads her legs, trailing kisses from the inside of her knees to her inner thighs, his beard tickling her skin. ]

Fucking perfect, every inch of you...

[ And finally, he buries his mouth between her legs, and his tongue is here, there, every-fucking-where. ]

[ Clara Oswald is a very vocal person; she's moved the bed from the wall she shared with the neighbors, but still. Has it helped? She has no idea. ]

Holyfuckingshit.

[ It comes out as one word, and Clara arches her back as one hand moves to the back of his head to hold on for dear life. His beard grazing her skin is the cherry on top of her pleasure, and she tugs at his hair every time he does a particularly fantastic thing. She never lasts long with him, not unless he's dragging it out on purpose. The love he's said she can now feel (which does more for an orgasm than she ever thought it would), and a choked out cry falls from her lips. The closer she is to coming, the longer between the sounds she makes, but when her body begins to tighten and all it takes is that one last push, his name tumbles from her lips loudly and often along with choice curses.

Jerking beneath him, Clara's cries of pleasure begin to fade to gasping whimpers and moans. Even as she's coming down she's reaching for him, trying to find a place for her hands to land as she shudders. ]

[ Roy definitely laughed at her request to help her move the bed, knowing it wasn't for feng shui reasons.

Roy has slept with a lot of women, which isn't something he'd ever brag about, especially when he's had a lot of meaningless one-night stands. It does mean he's had plenty of experience to be good at going down on women, though. He unquestionably knows what he's doing and he enjoys it. It's one of his favourite things to do to Clara because of how vocal she is, how she grips his hair - particularly when she rides his face, rubbing herself against the friction of his beard.

The sounds of his tongue lapping her up are obscene, until he finally gives her body a moment to rest, lying on his side, facing her. He smiles at her like he's just scored a winning goal, taking hold of her hands to rest against his chest. He's in no hurry for his own release. He's happy to bask in the afterglow of hers. ]

You're so fucking beautiful.

[ It takes a minute for her brain to figure out how to talk again, and a little longer for her to feel like she's caught her breath enough. Palms flat against his chest, Clara finally opens her eyes, her pupils dark and dilated. But she doesn't rush either, and it's hard not to give him a lopsided grin at the way he's looking at her. ]

Oh, I've been told. By you, in fact, many times, and I love it. I love you.

[ She's probably gonna say it a billion times, she can't help it. Reaching up to hold onto his face, she draws him in for a kiss, purposefully taking her time to delight in how she tastes on his lips. Then, after a few lazy kisses, she rolls so that Roy's on his back and she's on top of him, grinning. ]

I do believe I promised to take you on the ride of your life.

[ But first, she reaches down to wrap her hand around his cock, just slowly stroking, biting at her bottom lip. ]

Any objections?

It's worth repeating. [ In case she ever forgets, just like it's worth repeating how much they love each other. He's someone who's wanted to hear those words all his life, so it's never going to hurt to say it too often to him.

His face is filled with delight when she positions herself on top. At work he's the one in charge, so it's always refreshing to have Clara flip that switch for him and take control. And she's damn well good at it.

His eyes are dark with desire as she gets him ready for her, not that much effort is required. He was half-hard from getting her off, but hearing her declare her love for him post-orgasm went straight to his prick. When had showing emotion suddenly become so sexy to him? ]

I can think of one. [ Why he isn't inside her already, judging by the way he's lifting his hips off the bed, not even caring how desperate he appears. ] Fucking hell, babe, you're killing me here...

[ That's what she wanted to hear, and she guides him into her before falling forward with her hands on his shoulders. Her hair falls down around them almost like a curtain, hips rolling against his. Unable to pull her eyes away from Roy's, she begins to move eagerly but still manages to speak breathlessly. ]

I love you. I love you more than anything, Roy.

[ Anything. She's never meant that before, never said it like that, and she has to bend down to kiss him and give him the words. They're more than words, it's her heart served on a silver platter right to him. It terrifies her, but he's worth it, she believes that. ]

[ His hands grip her hips securely as she descends, safe in his hold, there to catch her any time she falls in life. Meeting her gaze now is even more intense than it's ever been before. It feels so good to finally feel the love he's been yearning for - the love he deserves. ]

Yeah? More than time travel?

[ He grins up at her at his joke, only to moan against her lips when the gravity of her words sinks in with every thrust. ] Fuck, I love you so fucking much, don't stop, please...

[ It sounds like he's telling her to not stop moving, but maybe he means don't stop loving me too. ]

I can't. I won't.

[ Her voice has dropped to a whisper that's quiet compared to the sounds they're making as they come together, again and again. Loving Roy is like breathing now; he fills her thoughts, he's become the first person she thinks of when she thinks of family and home. She will always love the stars, time travel, the Doctor. But Roy is in a category all on his own.

Moving faster, Clara's eyes close, trusting that he has a tight hold on her as she rides him until her entire body tenses. ]

Oh fuck, Roy, I—

[ That sentence never gets finished because she comes again for the second time that night, crying out his name as she jerks in no real rhythm at all, too focused on grinding out her pleasure to make it last as long as she can. Somewhere in there, she thinks she begs him to come with her, wanting to feel him, wanting him with her. ]

[ The closer he can feel her getting, he manages to sit up, one arm supporting her waist, his free hand between them, rubbing against her clit to stretch out her second orgasm for as long as possible. Her clenching around him is enough to bring him close to the edge, but he needs one more thing from her. ]

Look at me, Clara—

[ Once he gets her to open her eyes again, her ceaseless love for him shines brightly in them, and that's when he comes, harder than he ever thought physically possible. He can't even swear or say her name, he just lets out a choked cry before he's left panting into her neck, his entire body shaking, his arms wrapped around her like he never wants to let her go. ]

...Your neighbours definitely heard that one. [ He breaks the silence before collapsing back with her on top of him, exhausted but not enough to stop him laughing softly. ]

[ There's a fire in her eyes when she looks at him, an intensity only partially clouded by pleasure. This is how it's supposed to feel when she's in love. When he touches her, she knows she doesn't want it to ever be anyone else, and when he says he loves her, it sounds like the truest thing she's ever heard.

He's so vulnerable with her at the moment he comes, she thinks she might fucking cry. Instead, she clings to him as tightly as she can, letting him hold her, letting him have her any way he needs while her heart slams against her ribs. One hand is planted at the back of his head when he buries his face against her neck, holding him close to her, and she's still catching her breath when he falls back.

She happily plants herself against his chest, not minding the residual warmth for now, not wanting him to let go of her. She does laugh with him, but it's more of a punch-drunk giggle as she presses a kiss to his chest. ]

Hope they enjoyed then, because that's the best sex I've ever had in my entire life. If everyone had sex like that, there'd be no war.

[ Clara's joking, sort of, but when she raises her head to look at him, that same soft look she has for him is on her face, her voice quiet. ]

Don't go tonight. Stay here, I'll call off and get a sub.

[ She isn't that person, not usually, but right now, she doesn't want the rest of the world in a few short hours. She just wants this moment, even if it only exists for a day. ]

And fewer divorces. [ Roy snorts, his fingers tracing her spine. They're probably both going to need a shower - that was definitely a sweaty performance - but that can wait until the morning. Now it's time for cuddles, and if anyone knew how cuddly Roy can be post-sex, he'd never hear the end of it. (Fortunately, Clara keeps his secret to herself.)

He raises one of his thick brows at her suggestion to call off work in the morning, silently asking if she's sure, before he gives her a nod. ]

Okay. I'll take the day off too. There are enough grown men to cope without me.

[ He's never not showed up to do his job, even when he should have been at home, resting his knee. It says a lot about how much he adores Clara. ] Look at us. Rebels in love. [ He grins down at her before he cups her chin, keeping her head in position for a kiss. ]

If we lived together, I'd never have to leave you...

[ He's musing aloud, but then a lightbulb goes off in his head. ]

Move in with me. [ His gaze looks serious. ] Tomorrow.

[ She’s almost giddy when he agrees to call off with her; she does love his cuddles, all of them he has to spare, which is why it’s so easy to let go of being responsible for at least a day. ]

We’ve earned it, I think.

[ She’s still grinning, pressing it to his skin when he asks her to move in with him. It’s so surprising that her head pops up, lips forming a perfect ‘o’ of shock. But she does begin to smile slowly, almost hesitantly. ]

…Really? No one’s ever asked me to move in before.

[ She eyes him, faux critically. ]

What about all my books?

Well, that ain't a good sign. Are you some kind of terrible roommate?

[ He's teasing her with a grin, expecting a pinch from her for his cheek. ]

You mean your fucking library? [ He actually wouldn't mind her books at his house. It means he'll have a whole library of books to choose from and she can stop making fun of him for only reading Dan Brown. ]

They'll fit in my room of football memorabilia. You can have half the room. [ He thinks about how many books she owns. ] Or two thirds. Or the whole room if you want. I can always move my shit into the attic. [ That's how much he loves her. ]

[ Clara has an idea then, and even while she's laughing happily, she's shifting to sit up, straddling him again so that she can really see his face. ]

I have a little money, and I know you're going to want to say I shouldn't use it, but what if we bought a place? Together? You shouldn't have to put your life and achievements in the attic, Roy, not even for me.

[ But she does love him just that little bit more for saying it, and she leans down to kiss him softly. Her money won't get them all of the space they need, so she knows it's mostly symbolic, but she wants to. ]

The money's from after my mum died, and I never really knew what to do with it. I used a little to get on my feet when I moved here, but there's plenty left. If you think that's something you'd wanna do with me at all, this is what I wanna use it for.

[ She finishes softly, doubting herself for a second because buying a house seems like a bigger leap than moving in together. It's a big deal, and they've had some big firsts tonight. But she loves him, and why not move into a space they pick together? ]

Or your place. Your place is good, but we'll figure out something else other than the attic.

[ Roy wants to argue that it's probably tragic that he has a room dedicated to his achievements that he goes to sit in with a cup of tea (or something stronger when he's really depressed) and reminisce. Maybe he ought to box it all up and not think about it anymore. Focus on the future...

Apparently she's been thinking about the future too because she wants to buy a house with him. With her mum's money. It would be a big life change for them, but it's not like he wasn't hoping it would happen one day. Maybe it was happening sooner than he expected, but if he was hopelessly in love with this girl, why wait?

(Fucking hell, he was probably going to ask her to marry him as soon as they moved in together at this rate.) ]

I guess there's no point telling you I probably have enough money to buy us a really fancy house and you could spend your money buying first-edition books to fill it with instead?

[ He knows her well enough by now. It wouldn't be their house if he only used his money. He's also not bragging about how much money he has - he's just stating facts as a former professional footballer and now manager. ]

It might take a while for us to find the perfect house. We should probably still live together at mine until then to make sure you can stand living with me. [ He laughs but it's actually a genuine worry of his. He's not really programmed to give someone space when he's in love with someone and living with them. Once she learns this, it might spell the end of their relationship. ]

But I think it's a fucking great idea, babe. [ He leans up, chasing her mouth for another kiss, his hands clutching her thighs. ] I'd move into a fucking shed with you tomorrow if that was your dream. [ And he'd be content too, so long as he woke up with her in his bed every morning. ] But you'd have to buy one of those garden gnomes giving you the middle finger to put in front of it. So people know I live there.

[ She would argue that she wants to be in that room with him, listening to him say literally anything. It's how she learned as much as she does about football, he taught her because she just wanted him to talk. And now she has the added bonus of being able to really talk about it with him. It makes her feel a specific sort of warmth every time she surprises him with what she knows. ]

Why don't you use the money you save to buy me all the first editions you can find for me?

[ She rubs her hands up and down his arms before nodding along to his words. ]

Also, I think that's a good idea. Will you drop me off at school in the mornings?

[ She has absolutely no qualms, apparently. No hesitation and it's because he's looking at her in that specific way that's only for her. She kisses him, again, then again when she can't help but laugh about the gnome. Falling off to her side, she props herself up on her elbow, still laughing. ]

Let's get a gnome anyway. Put it right by the mailbox.

[ He fakes a gasp at her. ] What happened to you wanting me to give that money to charity? Now you want me to spend it all on you? [ He tuts at her. ] Clara Oswald, are you becoming a wag?

[ She should know he's only teasing her, a shit-eating grin on his face. ]

If you want me to. [ He strokes at her hips. ] If you don't mind me walking you to the gate for a goodbye kiss. [ He can imagine many parents gawking at them while dropping off their kids at school, mostly because of who he is, but he doesn't care because he likes the idea of kissing Clara at the school gate before wishing her a good day at work.

He laughs when she laughs, a hairy arm curling around her waist once she's facing him. ] You want a gnome? I thought you thought they were creepy. Remember that time we got drunk and you were too scared to pass that front garden full of 'em? [ He's laughing even harder at the memory. ] Fucking hell, you were adorable. [ He's never seen Clara scared of anything but that army of gnomes. ]

[ Clara gasps back, playfully and ineffectually punching him in the shoulder. ] Shut up. I was just saying if we’re talking books, I love it when you buy them for me. I think it’s sexy, thinking about you standing in a bookshop, picking something out for me.

[ He always gives her thoughtful gifts, but books are so personal, and she wants a section of her library to be Roy’s picks. Bought with money not ear-marked for charity, of course. Then he keeps going and there’s a heart-melting image; Roy bending down to kiss Ms. Oswald goodbye. Just the thought makes her grin. ]

Of course you can. I want you to.

[ Her eyes are half-lidded at the feel of his fingers tracing patterns on her skin, but then she’s laughing again. ] Okay, wanker, I was drunk first of all. Second, no sane person has that many gnomes. I’m never not gonna think that was weird, even sober. But you did protect me from the terrifying garden, I remember that. The first time you gave me a ride on your back, I think. [ She grins so hard at the memory that it makes her cheeks dimple, and she leans in close to lightly drag the tip of her nose along his. ] My hero, Roy Kent. With our house full of books and trophies and plants. I’m adding plants. How many rooms is that so far? How many do we want?

[ A kiss is pressed to his lips, waiting on an answer after curling up against his side, one leg haphazardly falling over his. ]

Oi, don't beat up an old man. [ Roy rubs his imaginary injury, hoping she'll kiss it better. ] Am I wearing glasses in this sexy bookshop daydream of yours? Speaking of, I think I might actually need a pair. My eyesight's getting worse lately. [ He pulls a face. ]

You're a lightweight. And I don't even give Phoebe piggybacks. You must be special. [ He's heard many people call him their hero, but there's something about hearing Clara say it, even teasingly, that warms his heart. He draws her leg even further over him, squeezing at her thigh. ] If you want plants, you're watering them... [ He can't see himself becoming a Plant Dad, but that's what they all say. ]

Do you want an indoor swimming pool or is that too much? [ He thinks about that for a moment before he realizes something. ] Actually, fuck that. Phoebe would be over every day.... Unless we have one but don't tell her about it. [ Would it be easy to hide a swimming pool in your house? ]

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