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beybaldes · 5 months

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i swam a lake of fire, I’d have walked across the floor of any sea

masterlist

Sejanus plinth x gn!reader

summary: While you don’t enjoy being in the arena, you’d spend the rest of your life there if it meant you were there with him.

warnings: okay I wrote a second part lol but can definitely be read as a stand-alone fic, loosely accurate but not like word for word scene for scene or anything, I typed Coriolanus about 7000 times for this and it doesn’t feel like a real word anymore, slightly angsty once again but fluff I promise! title is hozier unreal/nth

an: dear all my Ted lasso mutuals that may be seeing this, the gods have struck me with inspiration but for this man and this man only, Roy Kent will one day renter my heart and when I do you will get 10 million fics, I love you all dearly

Only hours ago you were sat on the steps of the academy, not an inch of space between you and Sejanus, him alive and breathing and right in front of you. And now, Dr Gaul was on the other end of the phone line, telling you that Mrs Plinth and Coriolanus Snow were on their way to pick you up, and that the three of you were to go to the arena and get Sejanus the hell out of there.

If you knew him any less, you’d say you didn’t know what got into him, but this was exactly who Sejanus was. You had no doubt in your mind that he had snuck his way in there for Marcus, for something that only he could understand; it’s why you hung up the phone without another word and practically ran down to the street, waiting for Mrs Plinths car to come for you.

Within a minute of you getting to the curb, a long, sleek, black car pulled up in front of you, and Coriolanus Snow came out of it, holding the door open for you and gesturing for you to get inside. You’d never seen him so gentlemanly. Sure, he was always polite, especially to others at the academy, but it always held a limit. A condition.

“Thank you, Coryo.” Coriolanus was startled by the three little words. You’d never called him Coryo before. Maybe it was a slip of the tongue, or maybe Sejanus’s use of it over the years was starting to wear you down and warm you up to the blond.

As you entered the car, you moved to sit directly next to Sejanus’s ‘Ma’ reaching and taking her hand in your own. “It’s going to be okay Mrs Plinth. We’ll get him out of there.” Her grip on your hand tightened with each second you got closer to the arena, just like Sejanus’s had hour earlier when the two of you were sat side by side in the safety of the academy. He definitely had his mothers smile and tenderness, and ability to ease your worrying soul just by being in her presence.

The rest of the car ride went in tense silence, no one daring to say a word until you had seen that Sejanus was alive and well, and out of the arena. Gaul and the peacekeepers had no problem all but shoving you and Coriolanus into the arena upon your arrival, the two of you gripping onto each other in mutual fear as you walked yourself into what could be your deaths.

Silence filled the arena, and it seemed as though all of the tributes had gone into hiding for the night. For all you knew Sejanus, kneeled in the middle of the room beside Marcus’s body, was the only living thing here.

As the two of you neared him, Coriolanus’s foot hit a stone, making just enough noise to startle Sejanus, who jumped as he turned around, thinking this might finally be his end. Upon seeing you and Coryo, he turned back to Marcus, letting out a breath of relief. “I thought they’d send in my Ma.”

“She’s outside, waiting for you.” You stepped forward before Coriolanus could say a word, not allowing his nerves of being in the arena to let him speak to Sejanus in a harsh tone. Sure, coming into the arena was stupid, of course it was, but that thought didn’t dare cross your mind right now. All that mattered was him. “Sejanus, what are you doing here?”

“I’m making sure Marcus has enough food to get to the afterlife with.” Sejanus explained softly, his head hung low and eyes unmoving from Marcus’s still body. “It’s a tradition, in district two, to make sure they don’t go hungry. I can’t let him go hungry.”

A clang could be heard in the distance, the children from the districts slowly beginning to stir around the amphitheatre after the noise made by you and Coriolanus emerging through the barricades. You knelt by Sejanus’s side, taking his hands briefly in your own.

“That’s beautiful, you’re beautiful, but we need to leave.” Your hands were once again against Sejanus’s face, cradling his cheek and frantically pushing his curls out of his eyes. His brow creased, confused with the whole situation before him; he thought you knew how important this would be to him, that you’d let him stay, stay with him even.

“But you were right.” Oh God. What had you said to make Sejanus think that this was a good idea, an idea at all? If Sejanus was to die in here you’d never forgive yourself. “I have to go where the cameras are. I have to do this.”

“Sejanus, no.” Tears threatened to pool at your waterline, knowing that what you’d said only hours ago could’ve led Sejanus to his death if he hadn’t been spotted sooner. “Not like this. Please.”

He went to fight against it, knowing that if he wanted to make change his best chance was from here, at the heart of the problem, but he never got the chance, you cutting him off before he could even begin to speak. “Gaul has cut the cameras, if you die in here she will just pretend that you died of the flu. There are better ways to make change, and I know you can and you will.” Closing what distance there was left between the two of you, you rested your forehead against his. Would anything be enough to get him to leave with you now? “You will be the change you want to see in this cruel world, Sejanus, but not in here, not like this.”

Despite the loud clanging of metal against the concrete floors of the arena, you kept your head pressed firmly against his, running your thumb across the apple of his cheek in hopes he’d leave the arena with you now, before things had the chance to get worse. As the clanging of metal got louder, and Lamina, the girl from 7, began to rise from her slumber above you, Coriolanus stepped closer to the two of you, moving away from where he had been keeping watch.

“Sejanus please, we need to go.” No sooner than Coriolanus had got the words out, Bobbin, the boy from 8, came charging at the three of you from the darkness, a large, machete-like blade in hand. Coriolanus reached out for your hand as you reached out for Sejanus’s, the three of you breaking into a sprint in hopes to escape the tribute before he could hurt any of you. The whole run he was hot on your feet, swinging his sword carelessly in hopes he’d land a hit on one of you. And as you jumped over the barriers, ready to rush for the gate, you thought you’d gotten away scrape and scratch free, however, Sejanus’s knee caught against the turnstile, sending him crashing to the floor while you and Coriolanus landed on your feet.

“Sejanus!” Without hesitation you turned back for him, coming to his side and reaching to help him up, but before you could lay a hand on him, Bobbin swung for you, slashing your arm from shoulder to elbow over the barricade. “Fuck.”

Coriolanus had grabbed a plank from the rubbled floor, swinging at Bobbin in an attempt to get him to back away from the three of you. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Your arm, your arm.” Sejanus gasped, his hand flat over the wound as if he could heal it with his touch. “This is my fault, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I’m okay.” You repeated, pulling Sejanus to his feet and slinging his arm over your shoulder while you wrapped your arm around his waist. As you turned to see if Coriolanus was still alive, you were met with the sight of him pummelling the tribute to death, blood coating the concrete floor. You don’t think you’re ever going to forget the sight of Coriolanus snow heaving in breaths as he stared down at the dead child. The child he’d killed. Though right now you didn’t have time to dwell on it, Coral and her gang running directly towards you, weapons in hand and ready to slice. Coriolanus jumped across the barrier in one swift movement, coming to Sejanus’s other side to help practically drag him through the tunnel and out of the gate. “Open the gate! Open the gate!”

“Open the gate!” Coriolanus yelled, the gate opening just enough that the three of you could get out to the other side, and closing immediately after, Coral and her team trapped on the other side of the gate as the three of you fell to the floor.

As Coriolanus stood, staring down Coral as she spat insults and threats at him, you turned to Sejanus, throwing an arm around his neck and crushing him in a tight embrace. “You’re okay, I’m okay, we’re okay.” Taking a second to breathe, you pulled yourself away from his touch, only enough that you could see his face and make sure he actually was okay. Sejanus leaned into the soft touch of your palm to his cheek, pressing a dazed kiss so delicately to the inside of your wrist. A smile curled on your lips. “We’re okay.”

“Your arm.” Sejanus started blubbering apologies, both to you and Coriolanus, not only for having to come into the arena to get him, but for the injuries you’d sustained in doing so. “I’m so sorry.”

Coriolanus just walked away from the scene, nodding at Mr and Mrs Plinth as he went to get his bloodied shoulder attended to and speak with Gaul, but you stayed with Sejanus, paying absolutely no mind to the searing burn that emitted from your shoulder as you helped him up. It could wait. You once again held him up by his waist, allowing him to put his arm around your shoulders despite the pain that seared through them at his touch, and helped him walk over to his Ma, who’s arms he fell into almost immediately.

“I’m sorry, Ma. I had to do it, I had to do it.” Mrs Plinth just ran her hand over his back, soothing his worry with each gentle touch.

“You need to get your arm bandaged up.”

“I’m fine, Coryo.” The blond had appeared beside you, shirt in his hands as he’d just been covered in bandages and gauze. His whole body appeared stiff and you weren’t sure if it was due to the fight he’d just won or the consequence of it.

“You’re not, you’re bleeding.” He stated, poking you at the breach of your wound as if to make a point. “See, that must hurt.”

“I’m fine, Coryo, seriously.” You folded your arms across your chest, stealing the expression on your face and taking in a long deep breath as though it would ease the pain and stop you from showing just how much it hurt. “Sejanus will need his knee looking at, I will get my shoulder looked at after.”

Coriolanus only scoffed, his sympathy for you extremely limited now. If you wanted to bleed to death to make sure Sejanus, who nearly gotten all three of you killed, was okay, then who was he to stop you? “Suit yourself. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

Only you and Sejanus made it to the capitals hospital, his father insisting that if he was grown enough to go into the arena by himself, then he was grown enough to go to the hospital by himself. And though his Ma had insisted she come with, Strabo had made it clear she would not. While the damage to his knee hadn’t been terribly bad, it was still likely that Sejanus would feel sore and walk with a limp for a while. You hadn’t thought about the cut along your arm once the whole time, but Sejanus clearly had, distracting himself while the nurse put his knee in some kind of splint by tracing his finger along the jagged edge of your uniform, split open by the curve of Bobbins knife. The second the nurse announced she was done with sorting his knee, he made his move. “Can you look at their shoulder? It’s still bleeding.”

The nurse took one look over you, noticing the torn material of your red blazer and the deeper red of the blood that coated it, then ordered you to take off your clothes except for your undershirt, so she could tend to it. “Oh sweetheart, this looks nasty. Why didn’t you say anything sooner.”

“It’s not that bad.” However, your lie almost immediately fell through as she poured some kind of transparent, white liquid on the wound, you gasping as it made contact with your skin. Sejanus immediately reached for your hand, squeezing it and offering a channel for your pain, his other hand coming to rest against your temple, his fingers brushing back though your hair, much like you had done to him earlier in the day.

“You’re okay.” Sejanus soothed his thumb running across your cheek. “You’re okay.”

You were okay, but not because your shoulder was finally being tended to. Sejanus was safe. Alive and safe. And you didn’t plan on letting him out of your sight for as long as you possibly could. When the nurse had finished cleaning up the wound, she excused herself to go and find some gauze and a big enough roll of bandages, promising to be right back.

“Did you mean what you said?” Sejanus asked, his eyes not quite meeting yours, instead focusing on where his thumb met the skin of your cheek, it running over the slightly grazed skin. You must have scratched it against the floor when you fell. “Before? Outside the academy?” When it was clear to him that you weren’t sure of which thing you’d said that he was talking about, he let out a short laugh, rolling his eyes at you lovingly. “That you’ve… grown fond of me?”

“Sejanus…”

You didn’t get to chance to give your obvious answer - you’d only ever been honest with Sejanus, and you weren’t about to change that now - he started talking again. “Is that the reason you came to get me out of the arena?“

Slowly, as he continued to stream out endless questions in your direction, you leaned over from your seat in front of him, placing your hands either side of where he sat on the cot and placing your lips softly against his. Sejanus froze under your soft touch, entirely unsure of himself; he’d never kissed anyone before, and he’d thought so often about kissing you that it didn’t feel real. At least for a second, anyway, as when you tried to pull away at his unresponsiveness, he pushed his lips against your own, not too rushed and not too firm, one of his hands coming to rest against the small of your back.

“I have grown so much more than just fond of you, Sejanus plinth.” You pulled your lips away, smiling to yourself as he chased after your kiss. Less then an inch separated the two of you from locking lips again, and the only thing seeming to restrain Sejanus from kissing you again and again right then and there was the fact he wanted to hear what you had to say. He always did. “I’d follow you anywhere across Panem, from across the districts to the arena itself. They haven’t invented a word for what it is I feel for you yet.”

Sejanus seemed to be in a daze, his mind not quite up to speed with the rest of his body. One of his hands moved to cup your neck, and his eyes kept scanning over your face and repeatedly landed on your lips no matter how hard he tried to look elsewhere. Now that he’d kissed you, he worried the only thing that would be able to come out of his mouth would be the fact that he’d kissed you, at least until he had the fortune of kissing you again. Almost breathless and with a slightly shaky hold on you, Sejanus knew what he had to do.

“Will you kiss me again?”

an: mwah!!! Thank you for reading guys and for all the love on my other Sejanus fic/part one!! Potential third part set in the districts when Sejanus becomes a peacekeeper what do we think??

part 3: of the goodness, love, that I still carry for you out now!!

#beybaldes wrote a fic!!#sejanus plinth oneshot #sejanus plinth imagine #sejanus plinth x reader #tbosbas x reader

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its-time-to-write · 10 months

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Ok first of all I love Jamie and I love how you write him.

What about a secret girlfriend or wife that no one knows about who is really smart and they’re discovered but it’s the POV of others. And they’re all shocked that such a smart person is with Jamie.

Like Roy or some team members.

I have a hard time doing other’s POV’s. I’m sorry. This is the best I could do. Thank you so much for requesting!

island made of faith

You’re a familiar face around Nelson Road long before anyone realizes why.

You suppose people just think you’re friends with somebody else, like how Ted thought you were friends with Sam, Sam thought you were friends with Dani, Dani thought you were friends with Higgins.

Everyone finds out in their own, memorable ways, and by the end of it you just wish you had taken Rebecca up on her offer to post a public service announcement.

You’re there because you’re dating Jamie, obviously.

How it took everyone so long to figure it out, you don’t know. You think it’s because you’re always talking to everyone that no one notices Jamie’s arm is slung around you in a more-than-friends type of way. I mean, to be fair, Sam slings his arm around you. So does Dani. Richard is constantly flirting with you and so is Bumbercatch, but that’s just how they are, so no one pays attention when Jamie does the same thing and you blush just a little bit deeper than the others.

Maybe they’re just dumb.

Anyway, here are a few of the more unique ways people find out:

Ted finds out because you and Jamie are making out in the parking lot late at night, after everyone else has gone home. He immediately recognizes Jamie’s bright orange shirt and ICON hat, but is unfamiliar with whatever girl he has pressed against his car. Ted isn’t one to shy away from embarrassing one of his kids, so he shouts, “Good night, Jamie!” from across the lot. You both jump and break apart, leaving Ted to see Jamie’s surprised face covered in lipstick smudges and your embarrassed one, illuminated under a light.

Ted is surprised as well. He didn’t know you were dating Jamie, and he says as much. He says he’s happy for you both, but he still has that same look of surprise. The next day, he assumes you two are trying to be secretive about it, because he doesn’t say anything in front of anyone, and you and Jamie don’t bring it up.

Dani finds out right after Sam, and it’s because he’s showed up at Jamie’s house on a Saturday morning with a large bottle of tequila and taco supplies. Jamie had forgotten about their breakfast taco plans, so you’re not expecting Dani when you open the door in one of Jamie’s t-shirts, hair messy from sleep.

Dani looks at you, you look at him, and you yell, “Jamie,” without breaking eye contact. Jamie thunders down the stairs, says, “oh shit,” and that’s how you, Jamie, and Dani come to be taking tequila shots at 10:30 in the morning while putting the most outrageous things in between Dani’s homemade tortillas and having the audacity to call them tacos.

You’re not too far into your second taco when Dani points between you and Jamie and says, “It doesn’t make sense, amigo.”

Jamie looks at him. “What do you mean, mate?”

“You and her,” Dani replies, “She has such intelligence, and you’re you.”

A Look flashes across Jamie’s face and Dani hurriedly says, “I mean no offense, Jamie.”

Jamie grins and says, “None taken, muchacho,” and leans over to kiss you.

Dani ends up passed out on your couch by 1pm.

Higgins finds out two days after Van Damme because Jamie needed a ticket for you. “That’s sweet to look out for her,” Higgins says, “She’s kind of like the team’s sister, isn’t she?”

Jamie lets out a snort. “She sure isn’t my sister.”

Higgins looks up from his computer, surprised.

“She’s my girlfriend,” Jamie clarifies. “That’s why she’s around all the time.”

“Oh!” Higgins replies, “That’s, well, that’s a little bit, well, shocking if I do say so myself.”

Jamie nods once then shakes his head, confused. “Sorry, how d’you mean?”

“Well,” Higgins seems flustered, “she just- I suppose, she’s just incredibly intelligent, and well-educated, and usually girls like that don’t go for star footballers.”

Jamie just looks at him. Higgins shrugs. “You know it’s true, Jamie. Look at her friends and see what types of men they go for.”

Jamie’s just at the point of feeling like absolute shit when Higgins says, “She’s lucky to have you.”

Now Jamie’s really confused, but Higgins continues, “I’ve noticed she smiles a lot more since she started coming around. She isn’t as quiet as she used to be. Rebecca was just saying the other day that she seems more- comfortable. She’s special, you know. Not many women go beyond exteriors to get to a man’s heart the way she does. She knew you had a heart of gold the moment she saw you. Take good care of her, because she’s a keeper.”

Jamie says, “Oh. I will,” because what else does he have to say to that? He’s out the door so he almost misses when Higgins says, “I know you will, Jamie.”

Jamie tells you about it later that night, and, because it’s dark, he doesn’t see you frown.

Other people find out in similarly “interesting” ways. Richard asks you out and then when you say you’re dating Jamie, asks, point-blank, “Why? You are so smart and so beautiful and he is so, comment dit-on,” here he searches for the right word and settles on, “he is so not.”

You wrinkle your nose at him and say, “I’m pretty sure he’s smarter than you,” and then go to find Ted to ask him if he has any food allergies, which is why you’re even in the smelly weight room in the first place.

Roy hears about it from Keeley, and he walks up to you after training while you’re waiting for Jamie to finish showering.

“Why the fuck are you dating Tartt?” he asks, no preamble. By this point, you’re getting pretty annoyed with what people think of Jamie. You make a mental note to murder the next person who reacts like this.

You glare up at Roy. “What’s it to you?”

Roy shrugs. “He’s just a prick. And you’re not. You’re actually fucking smart. You use more words in a sentence than he has in his whole brain.”

“Don’t fucking talk about Jamie like that,” you say, anger radiating off your whole body. You’re shorter than Roy, but you swear you can be scarier. “Say something like that to me again and I will personally wax your eyebrows off.”

Roy takes a step back, hands up in defense. “Oi, look, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hit a fucking nerve. I say shit like that to him all the fucking time. I didn’t mean to set you off.”

He’s sincere, which causes you to deflate a little. You peer behind Roy to see if Jamie’s on his way out yet. He’s not.

“Look,” you say, “everyone has been giving us shit when they find out about me and Jamie. They say something really mean about me being smart and him being dumb, and I’m over it. He’s way smarter than any of you give him credit for, and you all just don’t pay attention because of his accent or his himbo energy or whatever, but I pay attention, and he actually has a fantastic grasp on the difference between academic and conversational language, a distinction many intelligent people cannot make. I just want everyone to back the fuck off.”

Roy says, “Shit,” and then Jamie’s bounding out the doors and you do your best to dispel the previous tension.

Roy looks at you both thoughtfully as Jamie gives you a quick peck and then opens your door. Maybe he and the team are too fucking hard on Jamie, although he’ll never fucking admit it.

—

You’re slicing carrots a little too violently when Jamie brings it to your attention by saying, “You trying to murder them, love? Pretty sure they’re already dead.”

You look up from your pile of carrot shreds, pulled from your thoughts. Jamie smiles, the dopey one he does to make you laugh. You barely crack a smile, which wipes the grin off his face. Now he’s concerned.

“What’s wrong, babe? This about the fuckin’ carrots?”

You shake your head. “No. This is not about the fucking carrots.”

“What’s wrong, then?” he asks. “You’re obviously thinking the carrots are something else, so what is it? D’you need me to kick someone’s fucking nuts in? Is it Roy?”

You ask, “Why would it be Roy?” in a tone that states it wasn’t not Roy.

Jamie shrugs. “I dunno, maybe the fact that your face looked like a thundercloud two seconds before I kissed ya, or the fact that his fuckin’ eyebrows were scrunchier than usual.”

That makes you smile for real. “How did you even notice that?”

Jamie smiles back, relieved that you’re no longer hell-bent on chopping the carrots and pretending they’re someone else. “I’m a genius at body-science,” he jokes. “I’m as smart as you, I just hide it better.”

That statement brings back your cloudy face and suddenly you’re ranting about Dani and Higgins, Richard and Roy, and anyone else who made similar comments including (but not limited to) Beard, Bumbercatch, Jan Maas, and a goddamn pub regular who you think is named Baz.

You’ve finished your knife-waving and put it down safely on the cutting board when Jamie pulls you into his arms and kisses you. It catches you off guard, so you pull back for a moment.

“Want to go upstairs?” he asks.

Incredulity is written across your face. “I say all of that, and you want to go have sex? Please explain your logic.”

Jamie grins. “Babe, they’re gonna think what they’re gonna think. Can’t change it. Been using it to my advantage actually. So, I don’t care. But-” he continues, “I think it’s fucking sexy that you care. Hence, me fucking asking you to go have sex.”

You have to admit, that is a good logical jump. And he used the word hence. Correctly.

You concede and let him pull you away from the carrots.

—

You’re at Nelson Road again, this time in the locker room. Sex with Jamie be damned (not really) but you still fucking care. It doesn’t help that someone from work commented on your relationship in the same way the Richmond team has, a comment you shut down with something along the lines of inappropriate workplace conversation and I’m technically your boss.

Basically, you’ve had enough. You storm into the locker room and climb on the middle bench.

“Oi!” you shout above the din. The team quiets down almost immediately. “If I hear one more word about Jamie being out of my league, or his intelligence, especially when all of yours is highly questionable, I’m going straight to Ted and I’m telling him what really happened that night at last month’s away game.” You hold up a hand. “And don’t say he won’t believe me, because I know for an absolute fact he will take my word over all of yours any day, especially in this because it makes more sense than that bullshit story you fed him and Beard. Under stand?”

The team nods and mumbles, “Yes ma’am.”

“I cannot hear you,” you return snappishly.

You’re almost deafened by the “Yes ma’am!” they deliver in unison.

“Good,” you say. “Now, since I’ve all got you here, who’s coming for family dinner this Friday?”

Hands go up around the room and Jamie just stands back in awe. How the hell he landed someone like you, he has no idea. But he’s not worried about it. He doesn’t need to know. He’ll let everyone else worry about that.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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albatmobile · 23 days

Text

parent teacher conferences and other places to meet a pornstar

next: [2] coming soon: [3] [4] || ao3

𓅪 Rated: E | 4.5k includes: cam girl AU, teacher AU, masturbation, public sex, caught, fingering, voyeurism, come swallowing, facial, deep throating misunderstandings, confessions

𓅪 cam girl fem!reader x jason todd, eventual cam girl fem!reader x roy harper, eventual cam girl fem!reader x jason todd x roy harper

You hated people your age. Always quick to judge and even quicker to shun.

Kids, on the other hand? You could deal with them.

Kids couldn’t turn their noses up at you, they couldn’t gossip about you and they definitely couldn’t use Google. If they could, they’d find your not so clean history. You’ve never been fucking arrested- none of that shit. No, you needed to make up extra money to compensate for the low paycheck you take as a teacher during the day by becoming a camgirl at night.

It hasn’t been a problem at this school yet, but it always seems to pop up at the most inconvenient times. Eventually, a dad catches whiff of it, their wife gets jealous and you’re quietly let go. This is your third school in four years and you didn't really want there to be a fourth.

That’s why you dread running into parents who come to pick up their kids.

You catch this all-telling gaze of a redheaded man from across your classroom. He’s helping Lian with the cupcakes she’d brought in for her birthday today and you quickly adjust your glasses, hoping he won’t recognize you.

The hope is in vain.

Your smile is strained as he makes his way over to you with his little girl and leftover cupcakes in tow. His gate is too assured, his eyes too jovial. So, you do what you do best: ignore the parents.

You bend down to Lian’s level to help her remove the cupcake wrapper from the red cupcake her dad’s given her. “Did you have a good birthday in class today, Lian?” She nods excitedly, chomping into the dessert with gusto. “Do you have any fun plans for tonight?”

Your question is obviously for Lian, but it’s her dad who responds.

“Do you?”

You clear your throat, standing from your squat as you face the redheaded man. This isn’t the first time you’ve been hit on but it always throws you off guard when it happens.

You shut him down easily, “Grading Lian’s test from today. Isn’t that right?”

Her pigtails bounce up and down, “It was about the different types of clouds in the ‘mosphere.”

“Atmosphere,” You correct her with an amused smile.

Much to your chagrin, he continues on like you haven’t rejected him. “You look like someone I know of,” He trails off as if trying to place your face.

Mr. Harper- Roy, you correct yourself, looks to be in his mid-30’s. He has a decent amount of stubble, crows feet grace the corners of his verdant eyes and his hair looks like it used to be a brighter orange than the faded strawberry color it is now. He’s exactly the type of audience you cater to on your porn channel.

“A person you know of,” You repeat his words with an uninterested drawl. You wish the conversation would resolve itself or just fucking end. This beating around the bush shit isn’t for you. “Odd phrasing, but alright.” You need to change the subject and quick. “I’ll be seeing you at the open house next week, right?”

“Wouldn’t miss it, babe.”

You barely contain your eyeroll as you correct him on your name. “It’s Miss,” You tell him your last name again sternly.

“You’re killing me, Miss,” He says your last name, obeying your correction.

“Tragic, I’m sure. Anyway,” You continue on unphased as you focus on saying goodbye to Lian.

He finally moves out of your classroom but lingers in the doorway, “Have you… Were you ever a librarian?”

Don’t reveal anything. Don’t reveal anything.

You calm your breathing. It’s too pointed of a question for him to not know the video that made you famous: a librarian who gets bent over any and every surface in the library.

“I’ll see you next week, Mr. Harper,” Is all you respond.

You’re fucked.

➸💋➸

The Sunday before the parent teacher conference, you’re scheduled to stream.

Most of your material is solo streams and uploads, which makes it easy for you to make content and stick to a schedule. The few production videos you’ve done required a lot of coordinating and planning in advance. It’s a total hassle. That’s why you like your streams. You’re able to wear what you want, use whatever toys you want and you get to pick the location.

The library closest to you is always deserted, especially so on the second floor where the old Fax Machines are stored. The second floor holds records, old newspapers and magazines as well as a smaller collection of nonfiction. Total snoozefest for some, but the perfect public filming spot for you.

The nonfiction section is a separate room from the rest of the second floor and is hidden behind the shelf of vintage magazines. You’ve filmed in here a few times before, but never streamed. This is why you’ve chosen to come in around two hours before they close to eliminate as many possible chances for someone to catch a peak.

You’re giddy as you wave to the librarian who always seems to be behind the counter as you make your way up to your favorite spot. You’re wearing a cotton, white wrap dress, no bra, red thong and heels. The light material shows off everything. Coupled with your signature glasses, you look irresistible.

There’s one desk inside the room, right in the middle that you quickly shove out of the doorway view. The heavy desk is the bane of your existence, especially in your fucking heels, but this way no one can see you unless they literally walk into the room. It’s not fool-proof, but it’s what you’re working with.

Always punctual, you start your stream right on time.

avid_reader began stream

Slowly, viewers trickle in as butterflies stir in your stomach. No matter how many times you stream, you always feel a rush of anxiety as soon as you click ‘Start.’

Private streams are a whole different ballgame.

Though you do offer it, you charge a steep price for private cams. So far, only your top fan has been able to meet that price more than once. The dude isn’t a creep, nor did he have any kinks you weren’t comfortable with, hell, the dude was pretty funny too. Out of all the fans to get you in private, you’re glad he’s the only reoccurring one.

From his requests, you can definitely tell he’s an ass man. You also know that he likes when you wear clothes like you are today: inconspicuous yet revealing. Though he’d never say no to your lingerie, he always preferred tight fitting, see-through tops and short skirts more so than babydolls and matching sets.

Before you get too into everything, you tease the camera you’ve set up on the desk with your nipples that poke through the fabric. You adjust your glasses that fall down the bridge of your nose as you do so, earning you your first tip of the night.

You like to wait for your top fan to join, or at least give him a chance to, but you don’t have to wait too long before his name pops up.

inmyarsenal: this is gona b gud

Though his typing is horrendous, it easily brings a smile to your face, something he notices and tips generously for.

It’s going to be a good night.

You reach your first goal and slowly draw your tits out of your dress out into the open. Your nipples are already perky as you grasp your hands around them and squeeze. Your nipples poke through your fingers as you jiggle your grip around your breasts

inmyarsenal: someone’s gonna walk in on you babe

You bite your lip, looking toward the empty doorway, “I’ve been lucky thus far.”

inmyarsenal: i want t walk in on u baby. sO good for me

He sends another tip, completing your next goal all on his own.

“Eager today, aren’t we?”

Your stomach flips, knowing what comes next. You shoot another worrying gaze toward the doorway before scooting the chair back a bit from the desk so the camera can see down to your knees as you spread them. Your red thong is on full display for your thousands of viewers.

You pull up on the fabric, leaving the thong to disappear into your pussy lips as you do. You tease a bit longer like this before finally puling the fabric away and exposing yourself fully.

You spend a few minutes slowly rubbing your cunt until you feel wet enough for what comes next. You tease the egg vibrator against your entrance, noting how the tips come in what seems like every second now. Within a minute, you reach your next chat goal- this one allows the tippers in the chat to set the speed of your vibrator. The more they tip, the longer they get control over it.

You slip the egg inside of you with a breathy moan. You use the silicone string that hangs out to continue to make the vibrator bob in and out of your hole, moving the camera to offer an up-close view of it.

No one in the chat gets a chance to call dibs before your top fan swoops in with a tip big enough to control the remote for over 15 minutes. You both know that you won’t last that long with him on the controls.

He starts off strong tonight, easing you into it for only so long before he ups the ante. Your settings on the app allow your viewers to control the tempo with their own vibration patterns that they create, meaning every single sinful vibration is caused personally by him. It makes it that much better.

Today, however, it’s like he has a personal vendetta against you or something with he way he clearly wants you to leave the library with a squirt stain on your dress. Hell, he’d probably tip extra just for you to film your walk of shame, too, the fucking sadist.

“Fuck,” You can’t hold back your moans any longer, not caring how loud you’re being when it feels this good.

One hand teases your nipples and squeezes your tits while the other rubs desperately at your clit. Your legs are spread over each side of your chair at this point, though they’re not much support when they’re shaking this hard.

You’re about to come when you notice him out of the corner of your eyes.

“Shit!”

He’s not the ugliest person to orgasm to, that’s for sure. The man, however, is someone you fucking know.

ABORT! ABORT!

If anything, your top fan seems to pick up that someone’s walked in on you and uses the last few seconds of his control to push the vibrator to its limit. Your hips fly from the chair, arching as you orgasm with a pathetic whine.

You end your stream, shaking and panting while your come-hazed mind struggles to address the Wayne ward in front of you.

“I’m so fucking sorry,” You rush, trying to regulate your breathing.

You’ve already covered yourself up with your dress, but your thong is around your ankles and there’s no nonchalant way to fix it. That, and the large wet stain that now adorns the lower half of your dress from the front and the back.

Luckily, as soon as you ended the stream, your vibrator ceased, though it still remains inside of you.

“We’ve met before, haven’t we?”

You’re at a loss of what to say, what to do, let alone where to put your come-dripping hands as you stare wide-eyed at the gorgeous man in front of you.

Normally, you’d think it was a pick up line, but no, you have met before. Many times.

Your mother had been Bruce Wayne's elementary school teacher. Each year you were invited with her to the annual Wayne Gala. Even after her passing years ago, the invitation still came, now addressed to you. Throughout the years of attending, you’ve met him a couple of times, but never much past the standard ‘how are you’ and never memorable enough to even remember his name.

This is a lot more than a ‘how are you.’

“I don’t really know how to answer that right now.”

Surprisingly, he snorts, “I can grab some towels from the bathroom for you.”

You just nod dumbly, half planning to escape the second he turns his back, half wanting to stick around and see how this all plays out.

While he’s gone, you pull off your thong and shove it in your bag along with the vibrator you pluck out.

Moments later, he returns with what seems like the entire roll of paper towels. He hands them to you, eyes never leaving your face before moving out to roam about in the room over.

You try to hurry up, wiping yourself down and packing up your shit at record speed. You walk into the other room sheepishly, paper towels still scrunched up in your hands as you meet his quirked brow and blank face.

"Thanks," You say, hoping he won't bring it up.

Luckily, he doesn’t.

“So,” He draws out the word. You’re honestly surprised he hasn’t left at this point. “You like nonfiction?”

You burst out laughing, something he appreciates with a small smirk as he turns over a title in his calloused hands. “I just like that it’s private up here,” You tell him your actual favorite genre before asking what’s been on your mind. “You’re Dick, right?” Out of all the Wayne ward’s names, this is the only one that springs to mind.

He huffs, putting the book back on the shelf, “Fuck no.”

“Sorry,” You hesitate. Should you just leave him alone and flee with whatever little dignity you have remaining?

“I didn’t mean it like that,” He sounds apologetic. “It’s Jason.”

That name does sound familiar.

“Jason,” You repeat out loud without meaning to, something he notes with a small smile.

“That’s the one,” He drawls with a deep, gravelly voice. Most normal people would respond with their own name, however you just sit there in your squirt covered dress as he flits into the nonfiction room you’d just been in. Oddly enough, he asks, “Can’t really recall your name either, if I'm being honest, kid.”

“‘M not a kid,” You mumble in embarrassment, holding your laptop case against your wet spot. You’re 25 for fuck’s sake.

“Probably a good thing considering what I just saw,” He jokes lightly, though his attention appears to be on the books in front of him. You can tell his gaze is slightly unfocused, though.

You tell him your name as you make to leave. “Maybe I’ll catch you around,” You say.

His emerald eyes finally lock onto yours again, “Maybe you will.”

➸💋➸

At open house the next day, all the dads stare at you, while the moms result to glaring at you.

It’s what you’re used to.

You’re hot as fuck, it’s why you do porn. It’s why men like Mr. Harper think you have a familiar face.

Speaking of, the man’s been well-behaved for the most part. Aside from his lingering emerald gaze, he remains in the back of the room with crossed arms as he leans back in Lian’s chair.

The button-up you’re wearing shows off your lofty cleavage and tucks nicely into your skintight pencil skirt. To someone like Roy, you assume you look like a walking wet dream. Your hair’s up in a bun and your signature glasses as your red heels clack along the laminate floors.

You go over your plans for the remaining half of the year as well as the project and letter the kids had created for the open house. It’s an hour long event with time left for questions after, meaning you’re fucking drained by the time you’re ushering the last of the parents out the door. Surprisingly, Mr. Harper doesn’t linger, nor does he actually say anything to you. It’s entirely odd, but you’re not complaining.

You need a fucking drink.

You didn’t plan to go to a club, it’s totally not your scene. Somehow, tonight it feels right.

It’s a seedy place, but the drinks are strong and cheap and it’s exactly what you need after a long day like this one. You’re still in your teaching attire as you settle into the practically empty bar. Monday nights and clubs don’t exactly mesh well, meaning it’s close to dead but that’s fine with you. You’re just here for a few drinks, then maybe treating yourself to some Chinese food.

You let your hair down, shaking it out as the lanky bartender comes over to take your order.

There’s a man across the bar from you. His face is obstructed by a red hoodie as he asks the bartender for something. If you tilt your head just right, you're able to get a better look at the white tuft of hair hanging prominently in front of his eyes. It kind of reminds you of Jason…

It’s as if he feels your curious gaze on him because his sharp one flickers your way.

Green eyes meet your wide ones.

It is Jason.

Do you make the first move, or does-

Before you can finish your mental question, he raises a questioning brow your way as if asking for an invitation to come closer. You grant it, moving your purse over so he can sit.

“Hey,” You say as his hulking form sits down beside you.

“Not feeling nonfiction tonight?” He gestures down to the book you’d been reading before he approached.

You blush, hating how easily he has a hold over you.

Though you’d only planned to stay for a drink, you order another just to keep the conversation going. The two of you talk about everything and anything. The one topic the two of you keep coming back to is books and he doesn’t exactly let you off the hook for the library.

“Don’t think I’ll ever view that section the same way again,” He takes a coy sip of his whiskey.

“I really am sorry,” You apologize genuinely. “I didn’t know anyone even used that section and I-"

You start to ramble but he cuts you off gently.

“Trust me, I didn’t mind,” You watch as he downs the last of his drink and signs his tab. “You want to get out of here?”

You blush even harder. The liquor settling into your system warmly surely doesn’t help any, nor the heat behind his half-lidded eyes.

“I don’t know if I can wait that long,” You bite lightly at your lower lip.

“You do like public places, don’t you?” You snort, covering your face in embarrassment, but he won’t allow it. He removes your hands from gentle, placing gentle kisses to each.

“I do,” You agree with a light smile.

“There’s an alley out that door,” He offers lowly.

It’s all he has to say to get you up and out of your seat, following behind his muscular form.

His thumb draws light circles against your hand as he holds open the door for you to leave through first. “Shit,” He says suddenly. “You left your purse.”

You look behind you and notice that, yes, your dumbass left it on the seat next to you. Without another word, he leaves you to grab it.

You still have your phone on you and use the camera app to check over your makeup and hair as you wait in the alley for him. You hear a random noise from the rooftops, but think little of it as the hooded man sneaks up behind you. His large hands caress you from behind as he pulls you backward against his strong chest.

“Can I touch you?” He asks lowly.

Your breath sputters, wanting nothing more, “Jason.”

His hands slip even lower on your torso, applying a gentle pressure as he reaches your lower stomach. “What kind of panties are you wearing?” You can’t help but snort. He must’ve liked the red thong because you feel his dick stir to life when you mention much of the same. “Shit,” He groans when he shifts up your dress.

He runs his fingers along the fold of where your thighs meet your pussy as if to check if you’re telling him the truth.

You hear more clattering from above but can hardly focus on it when Jason turns you around to face him. It happens so fast that your mind’s still reeling from the action as he backs you against the brick wall of the club to finally slip a finger inside your thong.

“Fuck!” You buck against his calloused index finger as his body molds against yours.

His lips capture yours in an instant with an intensity that leaves you crying out with want. It’s muffled against his lips as he holds your hands above your head with only one hand while the other focuses on working through your already slick folds. He refuses to touch your clit, which leaves you mewling and struggling against his hold.

It feels so fucking good.

All of a sudden, there’s a loud ‘thump’ that forces Jason to startle slightly away from your gasping form.

“Ma’am,” A gruff voice startles the two of you. “Are you alright?”

Before you can respond, words are already out of Jason’s mouth. “Arsenal?” Jason asks, sounding entirely confused.

Your head untucks from Jason’s sweaty neck to see a random-ass dude in a costume staring at the two of you. Your mouth is wide as you take in the new form in front of you. Your eyes trickle lower on his red uniform to where it protrudes out around his crotch.

Apparently, Jason’s seen enough. His hand shifts slightly as he moves and you can’t stop the light breath it draws from you.

The costumed man visibly takes in the man’s face as if it’s familiar.

“I thought she was in trouble,” He trails off as he realizes that everything going on here is completely consensual.

They stare each other down for a few more seconds before Jason’s lulling you back in.

Instead of stopping, Jason’s fingers soon begin again and you resort to hiding your face against his neck as you allow it. He notices the man’s continued presence and smirks down at you, “Are you good with this?”

You nod, moaning loudly when he rewards you with another curl of his thick finger. You definitely aren’t used to doing this shit for free, let alone for a live audience, so you feel a bit shy. The shyness only lasts for so long before you suddenly grow bolder, throwing your head back erotically as Jason brushes against your g-spot.

Jason nips at your neck, leaving bites and bruises in his wake, but your half-lidded eyes are focused on the masked man in front of you. He’s yet to move, let alone breathe, it seems.

You can't deny that he’s ripped, nor that his muscular arms are doing things to you.

He’s hot.

“I don’t care if you touch yourself,” The words are out of your mouth before you can realize it.

It’s as if the floodgates have opened as the vigilante begins palming himself through his suit. His movements are erratic and sloppy as if he’s never touched himself before, though you suppose he’s never run into a camgirl in an alley before, not that he even knows.

You don’t even have to try to put on a show, Jason’s really that fucking good. Every moan, every writhe of your body and every shaky word you beg are all real reactions to his skillful hand.

Jason’s hand picks up speed as you draw nearer, his lips catch deliciously against your own as he coaxes your tongue lewdly with his. “There we go,” You whimper, then cry out as his fingers squelch in and out of your slick cunt. “Just like that.” With Jason and the other man’s eyes attached to your pathetic form you come, nearly crumbling to the ground as you do. Luckily, Jason’s strong arms catch you with a small laugh, “You alright?”

It’s your turn to laugh, “Fucking amazing.” You bite your lip, eyeing the obvious strain in his jeans, “Would you want me to-?”

“Fuck yeah,” He breathes out, pulling you in for a deep kiss. You tantalizingly pull your hair up, something you did in your infamous scene.

Both men watch with slackened jaws as you squat down and unzip his jeans. His clothed cock tents out from the opening of the zipper and you waste no time in sucking at the head through his boxers. Once the fabric is thoroughly soaked through, you pull him out to fully admire.

You bite playfully at your lip, staring Jason in the eyes as you spit on his bobbing cock before slowly taking his length down your throat. When you reach the hilt, you moan, feeling the vibrations of it settle across his skin, “Mm.”

“Shit,” He groans and his arms shoot out on the brick wall behind you as if to control himself from fucking into your mouth. “Done this before, babe?” He teases you, though his eyes are completely dark with lust.

“A time or two,” You jest back with an impish smile. Your glasses have completely ridden down to the tip of your nose at this point, something he notices and pushes back up with his thumb.

The action causes a loud groan from the vigilante beside Jason, “Fuck, man.” He’s eagerly fisting his cock at this point, eyes never leaving you.

“Want to taste her come?”

The moan the other man produces sounds pained, desperate, as he latches onto Jason’s calloused fingers coated with your slick.

You suck more eagerly, watching the whole interaction with fascination. You’ve never done something like this before, but you don’t think you’d mind doing it again.

“You taste so good,” The other man mumbles. You have no choice but to blush around Jason’s thick length, deepthroating him until tears spill from your eyes. “So good,” He mumbles again, completely lost in you.

You swap between teasing and deepthroating until you can tell he can’t take it any longer and attempt to finish him off with one of your signature moves.

“Fuck, I’m gonna-“ Jason caresses the back of your head as he empties out into your mouth. He pulls out and splatters the remnants of his come across your lashes.

You blink heavily, turning to the other man as an invitation, “Not sucking your dick, but you can come on my tits.”

“Fair enough,” He mumbles, completely distracted as you pull your tits out of your bra.

Your tongue pokes out to taste Jason’s come on your face while your hands squeeze at your tits like you had on stream. Poor dude doesn’t last another 20 seconds before his hot come splatters across your chest with the rest of his load drizzling down into your bra like a claim.

Definitely have to wash that when you get home.

Both men help you stand, though the vigilante takes off soon after zipping his pants.

Jason sticks around to walk you to your car, sending you off with his phone number.

When you get home, you barely have time to reflect on what the fuck had gone down in the alley when your laptop chirps oddly. You set down your purse on your kitchen island as you traverse over to your desk. Upon opening it, you find your channel pulled up and see inmyarsenal has left you a $200 tip.

You shake your head quizzically, eyebrows furrowing as you search to see if it’s been a mistake, considering you haven’t streamed since the library. You go to refund it to him only to see the note he’s left with it:

inmyarsenal: have to stop coming by your streams. tAke this as compensation- no refunds :)

A/N: I've been waiiiiting to finishing this fic since last april!!! not super edited if i'm being honest

if you'd like to send me nice things in my ask box, it would make my day :,)

[next] || ao3 || pinned

#reader x roy harper #reader x jason todd x roy harper #jason todd x reader #reader x jason todd #dc x reader #x reader #my fic: parent teacher conferences and pornstars

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tiyoin · 21 days

Note

Twisted anxiety reader in a singing contest show (MHAHAMHAHAH) It would be a reason why she was singing in the woods.

✨ imagine✨

MC is feeling useless and unhelpful and just wants to pull their weight in supporting the dorm and stuff. Just overall trying to be more useful to Yuu.

So she overhears smth about a anonymous singing contest and the winner will get $5000 which for mc, Yuu and Grimm that's a lot of money. And 2nd and 3rd also has cash prizes. I think she goes for 2nd place ,so she has the money of 1st without the popularity of 1st. So she puts her fears to the side (🤨no she doesn't) to help her friend and cat.

I see this contest being an online voting type thing. Also celebs 😉 do go on the show to help promote it, to judge them and what ever else they do.

In the show they give the contestants a "wish"/ charm that can help them with their performance (enter ✨shimmers✨ & instruments magic that was talked about). It what makes the show popular

Now we give MC song/writing abilities. She honestly has a diary of kind. She needs it.( Torture her bout it later😈)

Now I'm sure we wondering how does this come into play

THEY THINK THE SONGS ARE ABOUT THEM

They'll all find a way to connect the songs to themselves. If songs says an eye color or hair color the characters with said color goes crazy about it.

Enchanted by Taylor Swift is one that comes to mind as a song that everyone relates to.

Rook/ jade would send clips of MC singing on the show and "THIS IS THE VOICE I HEARD"

I have so many sub-plots for twisted singer reader.

Also I'm really glad to like hearing things like this. I was really nervous to send the asks.

More to come along at one point or another ☺️☺️

i immediately thought of “ivory skin and eyes of emerald green” from jolene and rook just going:

shout out to @/a-twistedheartslonging because i WILL NOT stop using this cute little rook meme they made fldkaldkakwkdkxkakdkfhx

OH MY GOD READER IS SO NERVY AND SCARED AND THINKING SOOO MUCH ABOUT THIS SINGING COMPETITION AHHHHH

they’re physically reacting to thinking about it. they’re nervous tics come out (that happens to me, whenever i’m suppppper nervous i start chanting and get anxiety induced tics) and yuu and grim are getting worried because nothing has happened, so why are you so anxious?

OH MY GOD HAHSHSHAH IMAGINE THE WHOLE CONTEST IS FILLED WITH INTROVERTS HAHDHAHAHAH they all get to suffer at our expense

MUWHAHAHAHSHZHHAH AHHHAHAHA AHAHAHAHAH😈😈😈

*clears throat* anyways 🙂

reader : *sings enchanted*

ALL of the guys she made eye contact with that week: …so you’re proposing?

OH MY GOD MAYBE ROOK AND JADE (for totally separate reasons) SEND IN A CLIP THEY TOOK OF Y/N SINGING AND SENDING IT TO THE SHOW BAHAHSHAHA

idk maybe there’s some super duper advanced magical technology (marvel’s equivalent of ‘quantum’) and y/n gets an invitation and they’re like????

I DIDNT EVEN DO ANYTHING YET

THE CELEBRITY ENDORSEMENT IS SOOO REAL-

ROOK BRINGING VIL TO THE FOREST WHOSE GRUMBLING ABOUT HOW HE HAS HOMEWORK AND HOW THIS’LL THROW HIS SCHEDULE OFF-

“non non! roi du poison you must come with me avec hâte!” (with haste)

and they’re crouched behind a rock for a few minutes and vil is annoyed because rook is doing rook things again and he does not have time for this. especially not today because he has to find someone to endorse for the music show he volunteered to judge.

only problem: EVERYONE SUCKS OR HAS AN UGLY PERSONALITY!! vil is disgusted by the cockiness and the greediness of these… influencers who paid their way to be on the show.

it puts a horrible taste in his mouth, especially with how shameless they are to try and win his favor. he’s not some cheap executive they can bribe to put their foot through the door, especially with their lack luster… abilities.

vil almost called it talent, but you had to be good to have that.

just as he’s about to voice his complaints and leave, rook’s grip on his shoulder stopped him from moving and the finger to his lips stopped him from breathing. vil was visibly shocked because rook never put hands on him, especially like this.

there was a snap of a twig up ahead. rook’s forest green eyes flicked to the horizon a few times, head too, urging him to look.

and he’s more than pleasantly surprised to see… you- well as much of yourself that you would allow the watchful eyes of the trees see. your ceremonial robe covering your short stature.

rook looked at vil expectingly, but vil was still confused, so what if a student was in the woods? unless it was his own this was a problem rook should bring up to the other house wardens. and it wasn’t illegal, nor against the school rules so-

then, you started singing.

he couldn’t recognize the song. but he could recognize the passion. yes you were untrained and flat in a few sections but that didn’t matter. you were good, pitchy but good.

song after song, sometimes repeating a few as you danced and bowed your heart away.

he wasn’t sure how much time passed but it was a considerable amount since the sun that once well over the trees now peeked through the canopy and was gazing longingly at the moon.

cursing, you looked around, bent down to collect the things you brought with you, and scurried away towards another entrance towards the forest.

vil was quick to react, to follow but rook stopped him. looking down at his vice house warden with an incredulous look, rook only shook his head softly. there was a reason you were alone in the woods and not in the various music clubs.

this was your little secret.

vil who WAITS for your submission so he can back you but you never submit… hm,

with a snap of his manicured fingers, rook is on it! maybe rook knows who you are, maybe he doesn’t, vil could really care less since the whole show is based off of anonymity.

(vil side eyes the influencers and other contestants who practically spell it out for the audience who they are so they can vote for them)

maybe to… put you on the right track vil has rook go to your little forest spot and place a flyer there, practically ENCOURAGING YOU TO SIGN. UP.

you think someone would get a hint right?

“huh, that’s weird… maybe i should change locations since someone else was here”

that’s it. rook’s sending in your video and you’re getting a flyer stapled to the tree saying you’re accepted. yes yes this is because of your fairy god mother’s NOW SING

vil also giving y/n some song recommendations he thinks that are good, up until he sees you gently pull out a FUCKING LOADED BOOK from your backpack filled with songs.

yes darling those are great but lol at all the nice songs he gave you! they’re in your range too!!

vil slowly finding out who you are because he heard you hum a song in the hallways that only the mysterious ‘forest nymph’ (what a ludicrous myth the students came up with) sang.

and yes he’s shocked that the ramshackle neet (ouch vil 😿) has golden pipes.

THE CHAT ROOM IS NOW INVITE ONLY TO THE PEOPLE WHO HAVE HEARD THE ELUSIVE FOREST NYMPHS SONG!!! (i’ll cook smthn better i promise)

VIL THINKING WHAT TO SEND THEM TO HELP THEM IN A CUT THORAT BATTLE ROUND AND ROOK OFF HANDEDLY COMMENTING ‘if only there were an orchestra here to play along with their beautiful singing’

ERUKIA!!

*cue golden instruments*

but in hindsight sight:

we’re gonna give her so much anxiety she’s not gonna know what to do😈 sorry pookie!! there’s no safe space at night raven college☺️🫶

#so many thought & yet so little space 😔#just know that i’m right here- patiently waiting in the wings for your next ask so i can info dump some more ☺️#i don’t want this to get too long but #sorry for the long post babes🙈#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #tiyoin’s cuties 。　 ඞ 。#VIL THINKING OF WHAT TO

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mysterycitrus · 23 days

Note

I keep hearing people say to ignore Devin Grayson’s Nightwing but I also see people reference it. I feel like I’m getting mixed signals. Should I avoid it or read it? Are there specific issue I should avoid or read? is the avoiding advice only for people who are new to the comics? Or should I really just avoid the whole thing?

short answer — u do not have to read devin graysons nightwing run. i wouldn’t recommend it to new readers, and there isn’t anything significantly important that happens so like. it’s an easy pass. i do encourage people to at least read what she wrote about, though, because devin accidentally kickstarted the next twenty or so years of bad writing in nightwing books.

the long answer — devin grayson was a writer for nightwing volume 2 from like….. issue #70ish to #115ish. she did a lot of weird things during her run — her takes on dick’s relationships with bruce and slade and helena come to mind — but the most popular talking points wrt her writing are issue 93 and maaaaybe the renegade arc but that is literally the tip of shit mountain.

it’s funny u say that people are telling u not to read it cause based on my experience in fandom it is very, very clear that very few people have read any of the run at all, or even #93 and it’s preceding issues. which is fine, because it’s bad. but it’s important to understand why it’s bad, and how it’s affected dicks characterisation in both canon and fanon.

nightwing #93 is the issue people say to avoid because it features dick’s assault at the hands of a former ally that devin refused to acknowledge was rape until like… 2014. it’s bad. the build up to this point — haleys is set on fire, dicks apartment is destroyed killing everyone inside, dick watches this ally kill a man on his behalf while he is helpless to stop her — is rarely discussed in the context of the scene. it’s a lot, but because people haven’t read it they misunderstand the dynamics that devin had created.

the worst parts about nightwing in the present — his lack of conviction and competence, his sexualisation and dehumanisation, the fundamental lack of empathy for his retconned bg as a poc — all started with devin. literal ground zero. i cannot emphasise how her i incapability to understand that she’d written an assault arc with her self insert as the instigator has played into dick’s status as a character in the 2020s. many people accidentally engage with the same tired, racist tropes that devin herself contributed to, because people simply do not know (or care to know) what she’d written. think about much fanon content revolves around dick being an accessory to his own assault, or being literally unable to advocate for himself, or relying on jason fucking todd to kill his rapist. it’s like im rereading nightwing vol 2 all over again, and that’s not a good thing.

however what people also tend to forget about is the racism. devin grayson introduced dick having rromani heritage into canon, sure, but she did it because she thought it was sexy. we see this with her writing for roy’s navajo heritage too — a lack of research and care, though dick’s was clearly egregiously fetishistic. she retconned the character that assaulted dick into a latina character, and retconned her into being an aggressively sexual and violent person that was at significant odds with her og characterisation. that seems to be a trend with nightwing writers — wolfman did the exact same thing like fifteen years earlier with about the same degree of nuance and empathy.

ig my answer is that nightwing vol 2 is very much a pick and choose run, make ur own adventure type experience. bizarrely, u can get better nightwing characterisation in the titans 1999 run, or batman plus arsenal, which were both also written by devin (heartbreaking, the worst person u kno just made a good point). id be wary of people telling u to avoid it entirely, because i think ignoring its existence just exacerbates the problems devin created. just be discerning, ig. but also read nightwing vol 2 #118-#124 (just after devin leaves) because it is gd hilarious

#sorry for the essay i just. have SO many opinions about nightwing 93 and how no one gd understands it like i do #dick grayson #nightwing #rape tw #dc comics #the ask and the answer

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ao3sbatfamily · 2 months

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'No Cops at Pride (Only Batman)' by emmacortana

Author: @emmacortana

“Yes. Secretive.” He breathes in again; this time holds it in. “Bruce, I have something to tell you.” The words come out a little too quickly; a few pitches too high.

Bruce patiently (or so he tells himself) waits for the words. Just two. Three without the contraction. Four if he addresses Bruce directly. He’s not an idiot—he knows it would be unbecoming to assume that out of his many children, there would not come a day where he has to prove to them that his love is unconditional, that he accepts any-and-everyone they deem worthy of their love (as long as it’s not someone idiotic like Roy Harper or the likes).

He’s as prepared for it to happen today as he would be any other day.

“Bruce…” This is it, Bruce knows. He already has the I know, and it’s okay on the tip of his tongue. Dick just has to say it first. “You’re gay.”

…

“I’m sorry?”

That is… not what Bruce meant to say. But he can no longer remember what he did mean to say, because Dick looks a picture of empathy and compassion as he pats Bruce on the shoulder. “You’re gay,” he says again, but slower. “It’s been a long time coming, and it was time for you to know.”

Inside Bruce’s head, one would find some kind of hell with static-like white noise and a fog of plain confusion.

#ao3 #fanfic #fic rec #dcu #batfam #batfamily #batman #dick grayson #bruce wayne #superbat #nightwing #batdad #batboys #bat bois #batkids #bat boys #bat fam #bat family

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courtingchaos · 4 months

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Not a Loser

Gator Tillman x Fem Reader

A/N: Just chumming the waters. It’s been rotting in my notes for a bit.

18+ NSFW No Minors

You’ve been on his ass all day. It started bright and early with your unannounced arrival to the house, dressed for a day out that he’d half promised you. Roy had the pleasure of letting you in and that was the first tick, the compliment.

“Well would you look at that, a dress today.” He’d laughed and you’d laughed and Gator had come down the stairs so fast he almost tripped.

“What are you doing here?”

“You promised me a date, Tillman.”

He doesn’t miss the up and down his father gives you when you walk into the foyer, especially doesn’t miss the raised eyebrows Roy shoots at him.

‘Get in there’ He can practically hear him saying it.

“Yeah. Later.” He wanted to avoid this. Any interactions with his family since you weren’t the keeping your mouth shut type.

“Well get dressed son, she’s waiting.” Roy admonishes him and shakes his head at you and Karen comes out to invite you into the kitchen for coffee and Gator needs to get you both out of the house.

You pitch a fit with him when he’s finally dressed and he wants to drive even though you made to 40 minute trip over on your own just fine. He corrals you into his truck and then you can’t agree on music and he’s sucking on his vape to try and keep his mind clear. It’s moments like this, when you find something to pick at and prod, that he wonders why he bothers with you at all.

But then when he gets to the mall an hour away and you hop out of his truck he’s reminded of one reason. He watches you adjust the skirt of your dress and he catches the black flash of your underwear.

“What are you grinning at?” You snap at him while reaching back in for your purse and he drops his smile quick, a heavy eye roll taking its place. You drag him around to stores he hates, stores that smell too much and have too many people. Stores with shit he doesn’t care about. When he tries to veer off into a GameStop you scoff and ask if he even has enough friends to play online with.

“Why do you have to be such a bitch?” He asks you real close while you both wait in line for a cinnamon roll. You chew on the straw of your iced latte and eye him from the side.

“I’m just pickin’ at you Gator, don’t be so sensitive.”

“I’m not fuckin’ sensitive.” He’s defensive, bordering on getting loud, when you put a hand on his arm.

“Hey,” Your fingers dig into the plush of his pullover, “Calm down, baby.” Placating tone layered under the nickname and suddenly he doesn’t feel so angry. The girl at the counter calls your name and you grab the overly big box, already opening it to pull at the center piece. “Want a bite?” You hold up the gooey bit for him and he takes it right out of your fingers with his teeth.

Back in town and when he asks where you want to eat and you’re back at square one, shrugging shoulders and “I don’t know, you pick.”

Everything he suggests is stupid apparently and his boiling point is dangerously close to being hit. He takes you to the diner and you pick at your sandwich and steal his toast but when he tries to steal a fry off your plate you click your tongue at him.

“What, you can steal my food? I can’t have one god damn fry?”

“I didn’t even want to come here.”

“What the fuck is the matter with you?” He can get loud in here and no one will bat an eye but still he keeps his voice hushed. Dips his head to catch your eye while you’re pouting into your plate. “All you’ve done today is be a pain in my ass.”

“Well you ignored my texts last night.”

“I was busy. You know my dad’s got me doing shit, important shit.” He makes that point with a harsh finger jabbed into the table top.

“It’s always fucking Roy isn’t it?” You push your plate across the table and the cutlery clatters. “Why don’t you just fuck him then, huh?”

His fist hits the table and everything clashes together. He sees how you jump and a small part of him feels satisfaction but the rest of him wants to bury his face in his hands. A big sigh, deep and full of spite, escapes between his fingers gated over his lips. “You coulda just picked a place.” He mutters and shakes his head.

“And you could just pretend to give a shit.” A fork gets thrown at his head and before he can reach out for your wrist to pin you down you’re out of the booth and out the front door.

“Hey!” He yells at the window while you stalk down the stairs outside. “Where are you going?!” He throws a $20 on the table and runs out after you while you seemingly start walking towards the farm 30 miles away.

“I’m going home!”

“You don’t live that way!”

“I need my car, Gator!” You scream at him and stomp your foot. You’ve smart mouthed him and called him names but you’ve never screamed at him like that.

“Get in the fuckin’ truck.” He wrenches the passenger door open. “Now.”

“Or fuckin’ what?” You stare at him unmoving. He knows the wind has to be cold on your legs but you barely react when a big gust comes through except to hold your dress down.

Yeah or what? He tries to think of something smart to say but there’s nothing there past his anger at you acting out all morning.

“Fine. Walk. I don’t give a shit.” He starts the truck and waits for a second to see if you’ll get in. He wants to gun it out of the parking lot and spray gravel and teach you a lesson. He wants to laugh about it and go home and tell his dad about finally putting you in your place.

But then you take a tentative step towards the door and he doesn’t turn his head but he does watch you from the corner of his eye. Wordlessly you hop in and slam the door behind you and it just lights the fire for another match. The whole drive home it’s barbs traded over the center console and every time you hit his dash to make a point he’s slapping your hand off of it, yelling about how expensive it was.

“Your dad bought you the damn thing, you care about it more than me!”

“You’re god damn right I do! It doesn’t yell at me!”

“I’m not yelling, I’m making my point!”

The truck jerks to a stop in front of his house and you jump out before the engine is off so you can beeline for your car. Gator takes a long pull off of his dying vape, thick cloud obscuring his vision until he finally gets out grumbling. From the front porch he hears a low whistle that has his head snapping up to find his father standing there with a shit eating grin.

“Trouble in paradise?” Roy tilts his head at you digging through your purse angrily.

“It’s fine.” Gator grits out while trying to edge his way past, only to be stopped by Roy with a big hand to his chest.

“Now you know how I feel about this one.”

“Well she won’t be around for long, so you don’t have to worry.” He feels like a child again, petulant and glaring at his father that still stands taller than him.

“You could fix that easily if you’d get your head out of your ass.” Gator doesn’t hear the footsteps behind him, grass muffling the hurried steps while you come up to ask for your keys he still has in his pocket.

“Remember that Claire girl?”

“‘Course I do, you don’t need to-“

“She left you because you couldn’t be straight with her.”

“No, we broke up-“

“She left you because you couldn’t keep her.” His palm swallows Gator’s shoulder when it claps down hard. He wants to take a hit off his vape for something to with his hands but he knows he’d just get scoffed at for something else. “Just, stop being a loser.” It’s a pitying smile he gives Gator before his gaze drifts behind him and he sighs. “You got in you somewhere.” Roy keeps his eyes on you as he walks down off the porch and Gator follows his look over his shoulder, tensing when he sees you standing there awkwardly.

“You uh, you have my keys.”

“What.” He feels lightheaded. He’s avoided any real interaction between you and his dad mostly on account that you were supposed to be just for fun, but this doesn’t feel fun anymore. Not the ringing in his ear making him wince or the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“My car keys.”

“Oh.” He’s on autopilot while tapping all his pockets. They jingle in his pullover and he tries to shove his cast in there and it catches and there’s the breaking point.

“Gator.” You try to get up the stairs to help him before he has a meltdown but it’s too late. His face is red and he’s tearing at his fleece and swearing up a storm. He thinks he might have stomped his foot and the embarrassment is swallowing him whole. “Gator come on.”

You’re only trying to steer him inside the house but he pushes you back when you grab him.

“I don’t need your fucking help!” He cries at you.

“Then give me the keys, asshole!” You yell back.

He knows his dad hears all this with the way your voices carry across the open expanse between the barn and the house. He can already hear him later while he sits in front of the fireplace. Sitting with his new wife and his new kids, the better ones, the ones that haven’t fucked up yet. He’ll drink his whiskey and shake his head at his fuck up and he’ll remind Gator for the next few weeks about this fight.

“Jesus Christ Gator, get it together.” You’re not gentle when you shove him into the door and open it. He stumbles in over the threshold and your hands hold him up and steer him to the stairs. He’s not sure if anyone is home and he doesn’t want them to see you taking him to his room but you move fast with him in front of you. Up to the landing and he trips again. You push him into his room and he makes for his bed like a kid being sent in for time out.

“Do you have a bottle of water or something?” You glance around, noticing the half empty fifth on his nightstand and his stomach plummets further.

“No.”

“God can you…” You take a steadying breath and shift toward him. “Let me get my keys.” You only pause when he doesn’t immediately move to let you rifle through his pocket. This close he can smell your perfume and he’d like to lean his head in but that’d be a stupid fucking move too. A sigh grazes his neck when you get your keyring out and stand up.

“Listen.” You cross your arms and give his room a good once over before another sigh works out of you, big and heaving. “Contrary to all of this, I don’t think your dad should be calling you that. It fucks with a person.”

“What, a loser?”

“Yeah.” You give him a sympathetic look and he hates it. He doesn’t know what to say though, just wants to be alone at this point. “Just, you aren’t a loser.” A shrug before you seem to second guess your departure and sit lightly on the edge of his bed. “An asshole for sure. And a dipshit.”

He laughs hollowly but your hand on his knee gives a reassuring squeeze. “I know I started this morning off on the wrong foot. I did that on purpose but I didn’t think uh, Roy was gonna…” You trail off. Behind you on the headboard the stupid handcuffs he keeps there jingle when he stands abruptly. Two steps to his door and he shuts it quietly and turns the lock and you sigh, again.

“Gator I don’t really feel like fucking around today.”

“Humor me.” He doesn’t meet your eyes when he turns back and kneels in front of you. He picks up one foot to wedge off your heeled boot and then the other, your socks rolled off your toes gently and placed inside your shoes.

“Gator.”

He ignores you and sits up, grabbing your hands and pulling at the thin rings to set them on his nightstand. Your bracelet and watch follow, both snaked around the tiny pile of rings.

“What are you doing.”

He just shakes his head, brows furrowed while he tries to unbutton your cardigan. You let him work but you watch his movements, gentle for the first time ever you think. He pushes the sweater down your arms and pulls it around you, folding it before laying it on the corner of his bed.

“You’re freaking me out.” You laugh quietly. He looks like he’s thinking while those long fingers start in on the buttons down the front of your dress. “Hey.” You grab his chin to pull his face up. “What are you doing?” You ask again, this time looking him dead on.

“You really don’t think I’m a loser?”

“Oh.” You ignore the glaring warning sign tacked to the wall beside your head for a moment. All the little centerfolds and the random bullets around his room. You instead focus on the purple light in the corner with his tarantula he’s had since high school. The bits of hand drawn personality, however strange they are, hanging around the corners of his room. The handful of empty fifths you noticed in the bottom of his closet. “No.” There’s a ‘but’ at the end of that ‘no’ however now isn’t the time.

There’s no reason for him to unbutton your dress when he can just push it up but he takes the tedious route, always the hard way for some reason. He hooks long fingers into the waistband of your underwear and pulls until you lift your hips. Again he does his methodical folding and you file that away for later to ask him about when he isn’t lost in some kind of stupor.

It only feels nerve wracking to have him between your knees because he’s quiet. Big palms grip under your thighs and pull you toward the edge of the bed before he hitches your legs over his shoulders.

“Say it again?” Hopeful breaths huff across heated skin, nerve endings on fire suddenly with his lips so close.

You smirk at him looking eager and pitiful between your thighs, his finger already digging into soft skin, hair mussed and falling out of its slicked back order. “You’re not a loser.”

#Gator Tillman Fic #Gator Tillman Smut #Gator Tillman x Reader #My Work #My Fic

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midnightfictionlibrary · 10 months

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Oh, Honey - Jamie Tartt x Fem!Reader

Jamie Tartt x Fem!Reader

Content : jealousy, friends to lovers, a bit of violence, flirting, kissing

Word Count : 1.6k

Plot Summary : Jamie doesn’t know how to react when he sees you flirting with a West Ham player.

A/N : More of my love, Jamie, there's a criminally low amount of Jamie fanfic---as always pls like and reblog if you enjoy <3

“Well don’t you look gorgeous?” You hear the voice before you see its owner, and you roll your eyes before picking your drink up from the bar and turning around.

“And you are?” You deadpan.

“Westley Smythe. But I’m better known as the star player of West Ham.” He quirks a smile at you and you try hard not to laugh right in his face.

“You do know who I am?” You ask him, and he raises an eyebrow, looking you up and down as if there was no way he could know.

“I’m Richmond’s athletic trainer. ” You watch the wheels turn in his mind, and you smooth your dress on yourself, flashing him your own brilliant smile. “I don’t really associate with West Ham.”

He shrugs. “No one has to know.” He says, and this time, you do laugh out loud, actually tickled that this man was being so bold.

But your laugh alerts your own star player, a certain number 9. Jamie’s jaw clenches when he sees you laughing with Smythe, and the grip on his beer bottle (a rare treat Roy allowed him) tightens. He feels Roy lean over, and he rolls his eyes in anticipation for whatever Roy has to say.

“Bloody fucking hell, Tartt. Just tell the girl you like her.” Jamie can’t help but steal glances at you, where you’re chatting away with the West Ham player. And…are you enjoying his company? He thinks about you, how you move when a song you like comes on, the smell of your honey scented perfume.

“I can’t.”

“Yes you fucking can.” Roy grunts, and with that he puts another beer in front of Jamie and wanders off to mingle with Ted and Beard.

This leaves Jamie with admittedly, a lot to think about, even though Roy hadn’t said much.

You keep a tight smile on your face, and you glance to the boys, noticing Jamie was watching you. Your face flushes and you tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. Even though Westley was definitely not your type, you decide you could maybe use him to make Jamie a bit jealous.

For the past few months, it always seems like Jamie is on the edge of asking you something. There’s stolen glances, smiles that linger a bit too long. You even find yourself checking over him after games more often than other players. You and Jamie were friendly, even friends, but you couldn’t deny the extremely large crush you held on the Mancunian.

You reach out and brush a light hand on Smythe’s arm, causing him to step a bit closer to you. You glanced again at Jamie, the muscles in his perfect jaw jumping at the sight of you and Smythe. You grin to yourself, angling your body so you’re facing away from Jamie. You felt maybe a little evil, but maybe it would push him to talk to you a bit more. Of course, you could talk to him, but it seemed like anytime you tried to flirt, Jamie was completely oblivious to what you were trying to do.

You roll your eyes as Westley continues to drone on, casting a peek over your shoulder. Jamie was still watching you, but he was standing now. He sets his bottle on the table and skulks out of the bar, and you can’t help but smirk.

The next day, you’re up in the box with Keeley and Rebecca, who you inform of your jealous-Jamie plan.

Keeley grins. “I love it babes.” And Rebecca nods.

“Maybe it showed him what he was missing.” She suggests, and you point a finger at her, settling into your seat. You cross your arms and gaze down at the field but the huge monitor over the stands shows closeups of the team. You can’t keep your eyes off of Jamie, and Keeley leans in.

“He looks grumpy, I think your little plan worked, yeah?” She grins, nudging you. You shrug, but secretly you were pleased. If he was jealous over you, surely that meant he liked you.

The game starts, the usual fast paced back and forth making your head spin. You notice that Smythe has the ball, about to score, when suddenly -

“Oh my god!” You exclaim, standing straight up out of your seat. Jamie had slide-tackled the other player, knocking him down, causing Smythe to roll a little bit. Westley Smythe stands up and charges towards Jamie, who didn’t seem like he was going to back down, in fact, he was smirking, walking to meet Smythe. Jamie pushes Smythe hard, but before a real fight can break out, the referee interferes, gesticulating to Jamie.

Finally, the referee pulls out a red card.

Keeley and Rebecca sit next to you, stunned.

You look up at the monitor and catch Jamie smirking, tongue out, cocky expression on display as he walks back towards the dugout. You sit down, slightly stunned. But also, slightly into it. You watch Roy shake his head at Jamie and send him into the locker room. You quickly stand up, making your way out of the box.

Your tennis shoes make a soft tap, tap, tap on the floor as you walk down the long, bright hallway to the locker room. You round the doorway and stop, right as Jamie looks up at you.

“What the hell, Jamie? A red card? Not to mention, you could have hurt yourself and then work on your ankle would have had to start over.” You put your hands on your hips, moving forward towards him.

“Oh sorry, are you worried about your little West Ham boyfriend?” He says, scoffing as he stands up, turning to face his locker.

“Boyfriend? I don’t care about Westley.”

“On a first name basis, huh?”

You clench your teeth. He was going to be difficult about this. “Why do you even care?”

Jamie shrugs, still facing away from you. “I don’t.”

“So why’d you tackle him, then?”

At this, you can see Jamie’s body tense. “He’s a bloody wanker, that’s why.”

At this, you scoff. He was really going to stand in front of you and pretend as if you didn’t know what this was about. At the sound of your noise of indignation he turns around to face you. There’s a glint in his eyes and he steps closer to you. Very close. Noses almost touching close. He’s slightly taller than you, so he looks down at you.

“Maybe I don’t like the way he was looking at you last night, yeah? Like you were a piece of fucking meat.”

“I can take care of myself.” You assure him, biting back a smirk. You can’t help it though, a devilish smirk was playing on the corners of your lips. “Are you jealous, Tartt?”

You expected him to smirk. You even expected him to maybe laugh, that beautiful smile on display. Instead, he licks his lips, quirking an eyebrow at you. “I think you know the answer to that.”

“Then say it.” You challenge.

At this, Jamie smirks. “Yes. I was jealous. You are smart, funny, and kind, and seeing Westley Smythe all over you made me want to tackle him on the pitch.”

You’re a bit taken aback. You didn’t expect him to pile compliments on you, and your eyes soften. “Oh..” you breathe out.

Jamie continues to gaze down at you, leaning in even closer than he was before, his lips hovering centimeters above yours. You watch, mesmerized, drunk in his presence.

“Seems you might like having me jealous over you, yeah?” Jamie teases. “But that’s okay, as long as I get you all to myself.”

You swallow, your eyes trailing to his lips. “You’ve always had me all to yourself.” You whisper, glancing up to meet his gaze again. But the look on his face is different. Where before it was smirking, sexy, teasing, now it was surprised and anguished.

“Wh..what?” He manages to get out, and you kick yourself, believing you said the wrong thing. “Just how long have you been trying to make me jealous?” He asks, reaching up to gently push a strand of hair behind your ear.

You shrug, suddenly bashful, cheeks burning red hot as he brushed his hand there briefly. You feel a gentle hand under your chin, lifting your gaze to meet his. He searches your face, a small, pleased smile playing on his lips.

“Only since last night. I couldn’t take the tension anymore.” You whisper, and Jamie laughs softly. He slides his hand to the side of your face, lifting his other hand to mirror it. Cradling your face gently, he leans in.

Before anything happens, his eyes travel from your lips to your eyes. “Can I kiss you?” He whispers. Your mouth feels dry, but you nod, and he leans in, gently connecting his lips to yours.

You kiss him back, feeling as if you were melting, and you slide your arms around his neck, pulling yourself closer to him. His hands leave your face and snake around your waist, holding you as close as he can. “You are as sweet as honey.” He breathes into your ear, and you shiver.

“Oi!” You hear a booming voice yell from the doorway and you instinctively look over, still tangled in each other’s arms. There stood Roy, an eyebrow raised. “Not that I don’t think it’s about time the two of you kissed, but Ted wants to see you, Tartt.”

Jamie looks at you, stealing another kiss before winking at you, following Roy out of the locker room door. You stood there, smiling and blushing to yourself. You guessed Jamie just needed a little push, is all. You couldn’t wait to continue what you started.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt #jamie tartt fanfiction #ted lasso fanfic #jealous trope #jealousy #friends to lovers #jamie tartt x y/n

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celaenaeiln · 4 months

Note

What would you consider to be Dick's very best qualities? What would you consider to be quintessential qualities for Dick Grayson to be Dick Grayson? Thank you 😊

Oooh! I’m gonna talk about the qualities that make up the core of Dick Grayson. Writers have different ways of writing him but if they’re lacking one of these qualities then it’s not him they’re writing. Super generally, there are three things he must have.

1. Over-competence

If Dick isn’t the best then it isn’t him. No doubt, canonically Dick is the best. This isn’t even a take, he’s so good at what he does and who he is, people literally form complexes because of him. Tim has a complex about him, Jason has a complex about him, Bruce has complex about him, Roy, Wally, heroes, villains, even freaking Deathstroke has a complex about him. He’s just so good at fighting, solving crime, and tactical maneuvering that he is quite literally considered the height of excellence. Freaking Bruce has relationship issues because Dick is so perfect that he fails like he - Batman - is failing!

Dick’s entire relationship history with everyone - romantic, platonic, friendship, every type can be summed up to one thing - his perfectionism and how others are affected by it. So if Dick isn’t easily kicking villain butt then that’s not him. Everyone just knows that he'll always win or survive.

Like Helena says -

Detective Comics (2016) Issue #1056

He'll be fine. He's freaking Nightwing.

2. His kindness

While Dick loved adventure and fighting as Robin, what he loved even more was talking care of people. He thought of it as Robin’s job to help the victims, and he did it because he wanted to. Soothing crying children, reassuring worried parents, finding lost pets - he loved the joy that came with make people feel happier and better. Batman might be the dark avenger obsessed with fighting crime but Dick was the one who focused on the first responder type of cases from the victims side.

His first instinct is to help people. That's also why he's such a good character because he can wipe the ground with almost anyone but he's also sweet and soft enough to just feed a bird that hopped inside.

The New Titans (1988) Issue #71

This scene is probably my favorite Dick Grayson scene of all time.

3. His leadership

Quite frankly the greatest leader. Qualities that make up a great leader is the ability to actively listen, properly delegate tasks, communicate effectively, show empathy, make difficult decisions, be accountable for their actions, have strong integrity, and have a strategic mindset. Dick effectively displays all of this to the maximum extent.

And the whole community adores him for it-

Titans (2003) Issue #23

Superboy: "Nightwing and Starfire brought wave two. Which is just about everyone who's ever been a Titan."

"It's a natural thing when Nightwing shows up. None of us are conscious of it, really--but we all look to him for orders."

It's because of these three qualities, that Dick Grayson is who he is and why he has the blanket adoration of the hero community.

#dick grayson #nightwing #helena bertinelli #huntress #titans as family #dc titans #cl confusedhummingbird asks #cl asks #thanks for the ask!

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security-chief-odo · 6 months

Text

To Love and be Loved in Return

Roy Kent x Reader

Description: Both you and Roy Kent are in love, but of course neither of you knows your feelings are requited. Who will be the first to spill the beans?

Chapter 1 - World’s Greatest Boss

Word Count: 1k

• • •

You have been working as a coaching assistant for AFC Richmond for the past six months. Though your job technically speaking is to assist the entire coaching staff, in reality, you were hired to manage Roy Kent.

Though he is an excellent coach, he is god awful at things like maintaining a schedule, filing any paperwork in a reasonable time frame, and generally dealing with the public. This is where you come in and make his life (and Rebecca’s) easier.

Your life on the other hand has gotten much harder as a result of this job. You have had a school girl crush on Roy since he was still playing for Chelsea. A crush you had assumed was just superficial and would fade as you got to know him as a coworker and a friend. If only life was ever that easy.

If anything, your crush has just gotten stronger because not only is Roy insanely hot, but he is kind, smart, and surprisingly funny. Perhaps more importantly though, he is sitting in front of your desk, not noticing as you stare at him.

“What do I have to get done this weekend?”

“Well, it’ll be a busy one for you. You need to go pick up your suit from the tailor tomorrow for the gala next weekend.”

He groaned, “I still don’t see why I have to go to that stupid thing.”

“It is quite literally in your job description Roy.” He rolls his eyes at that but lets you continue. “You have a game Tuesday, press conference after that. Do you have your shoes for the gala?”

“I’m not getting new shoes for that shit, I have a pair that’ll do. Do you have my talking points prepped for the press conference?” You hand over a bullet pointed page. “And if we lose?”

“You won’t, but that’s on the printer.” You turn in your chair to grab it but he's up and behind your desk already, skimming over the page.

“What would I do without you?”

“Crash and burn, probably”

He chuckled at that, “Yeah, probably. So I, uh, wanted to ask before, but are you going to the gala?”

“I’m office staff, I’m not sure I’m invited”

“Of course you’re fucking invited.”

“I’ll ask Rebecca about it.”

“No need, you can be my plus one.” You stop dead in your tracks at his words. Of course you want to go to the gala with Roy but there’s no way he means it like that and sitting by his side all night just might be the death of you.

“Oh um, I don’t know”

“Come on, y/n”

“I don’t have anything to wear. My wardrobe isn’t exactly fitting for a gala”

“Then I’ll buy you a dress.”

“You don’t need to do that. I’m sure you had some model you were going to bring anyways.”

“I’m not that guy anymore, y/n. And anyways, you deserve to go, you’re part of the team” Right, part of the team. He’s being a good boss. That’s all he was ever doing.

“I’ll think about it.”

“I’ll give Keeley my credit card and have her pick you up Saturday”

Returning to your emails, you began typing as you continued the conversation. “Anyone ever told you that you’re kind of an amazing boss?”

Right, you only see him as your boss. Nothing more. Probably never will be anything more. He just needed to accept that.“I don’t know that that’s the word the boys would use.”

“Well, maybe you should try buying all of them fancy dresses?”

“You know, that just might do the trick,” a smile threatens to cross his face, “but I don't think they’d look nearly as good.”

“Careful sir, don’t let Isaac hear you say that one.”

That one actually got a laugh out of him. “You’re right. Then I might have to bring him as my date instead–” His eyes widen as soon as the word ‘date’ leaves his mouth and he stumbles out, “not that I’m asking you as my date. I’m not. I just–”

Despite the sinking feeling in your gut, you let him off the hook. “Of course not Roy. I didn’t assume you were.”

“Right. Well. I’ll just leave you to uh, you know, I’ve got a meeting.” He rushed out, nearly slamming your door behind him. As soon as he was out of earshot, he groaned “Fuck.” Roy should have known better than to say anything. You are sweet and beautiful and fucking brilliant and he might have just ruined everything.

You are sitting in your office, having completed Roy’s schedule, you move on to Beard and Nate. There’s no way those meetings will be nearly as painful as your last one. You never thought Roy would return your feelings, but you figured you would at least have to ask before he could reject you.

Roy and you are clearly avoiding each other all day Thursday. He takes his lunch in his car. You don’t even leave your office. You wait until the end of the day to go meet with the assistant coaches about their calendars, hoping that Roy may have left early.

You aren’t quite so lucky and bump into him as you enter the locker room. Of course this knocks your papers out of your hands. You squat down to pick them up.

“Fuck,” he growls, “sorry.”

“It’s ok. I wasn’t exactly looking where I was going either.”

He extends a hand to help you up. Your hand feels nice in his and you both are holding hands for a moment longer than necessary before pulling away.

With nothing left to say, you find yourself looking into his kind eyes before you are interrupted by Nate.

“Oh y/n, I was just about to come grab you for our meeting.”

“Right.” you turn to Roy, “See you tomorrow!”

He waves as he walks away, not for a second noticing where your eyes were as you watched him leave. You follow Nate back into the office for your meetings with the assistant coaches, your thoughts however stay on the head coach.

• • •

Click here for chapter 2!

Let me know if you’re interested in joining my taglist, either for this series or my general taglist. Otherwise, just let me know what you think!

#reader insert #roy kent x reader #roy kent #Roy Kent/reader #idiots in love #ted lasso fic #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso #afc richmond #to love and be loved in return

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wambsgansshoelaces · 3 months

Note

prompt number 4 with shivvy please 😇

Honey

Prompt: “C’mere, you can sit in my lap until I’m done working.”

Siobhan Roy x Reader

summary: cuddles, baked goods, and insecurity

okay so a few things… this is my favorite fic I’ve ever written. I’m sorry that it’s so much shorter than everything else, but I’m sooo proud of it I love it so much it’s my little baby

I wrote way beyond the prompt, so I hope you don’t mind xx I was just making myself feel better haah xx

anon, thank you so much for requesting <3 I love you and I hope you love it xxx

tw for weight and eating talk. you’re beautiful, I love you, and you deserve the world, reader <3

Word Count: 1.628k

“Come on, babe, just give me another half hour.”

You’re perched on your girlfriend’s desk as she works. Shiv’s been here, at the Waystar office, since six in the morning. It’s now eleven P.M.

“You’ve been here for way too long,” you point out. She doesn’t say anything, absorbed in whatever it is she’s working on on her computer. “I wanna go home.” You pout at her, trying to earn some sympathy.

She heaves a sigh, going to type something. “Then go home.” Her voice comes out harsh, and you wince. She’s been overworking herself for weeks. You know she doesn’t mean to be snappy- it just happens to her. She gets overwhelmed, she gets frustrated, and she’s still working on being able to regulate her emotions when they’re negative. You frown at her from your spot on the corner of her desk. She stops herself, taking a short breath. “I’m sorry. I just really need to finish this stuff.” She rolls her chair closer to you and leans up, capturing your lips in a sweet kiss before going back to work.

“Love, what’re you even working on?” you ask softly, moving to hook your fingers around hers. She smiles, but keeps her eyes trained on her laptop.

“Just some campaign things. They need to be done before tomorrow afternoon, and I have meetings all morning…” She fiddles with one of the rings on your pointer finger.

“Look, do you know you really can’t wrap up now?”

“No, really, babe, I have to get this done-”

She’s interrupted by the noise you make sliding off her desk. “I’m sorry, it’s just- I’ve been here all day, Shiv. You have, too, and if you’re not going to come home with me…”

“What? You’re going? No, No.” She looks up at you, brow furrowed. “C’mere, you can sit in my lap until I’m done working.”

“Siobh-”

“Come on.”

With a sigh and dumb smile on your face, you go over and deposit yourself into her lap. She strokes up and down your thigh with one hand, reaching around you with the other. She sets her head on your shoulder and she continues to peer at whatever it is she’s doing.

You lean back into her, strangely content. You turn your head far enough to be able to kiss the side of her temple. “I love you.”

“I love you more,” she murmurs into your shirtsleeve. “You know, I like this.” Her hand shifts from your thigh to the side of your neck, her fingers hunting for a strand of hair to play with. She twists a soft lock around her fingers, pressing a lazy kiss into your shoulder.

"So, how's Weston doing?" you ask with a smirk on your face. You'd met him at one of her work parties, and she swore up and down that she had nothing to do with him. You believe her, obviously. You know she's only interested in you. But you know Weston's into her, and she's oblivious.

"He's been acting... strange lately. I think you scared him," she says, lips brushing over your neck. You laugh. You enjoy teasing her like this. You know she doesn't take it personally. She's just happy she gets to spend time with you, see you laughing, see your face split into that radiant fucking smile of yours.

"Ha! Good." You nuzzle into her, using your hips to burrow further into her lap. You can feel the heat rush through her body, her hand clamping down on your side. It's only a matter of seconds before her attention is off of you, to your dismay. "Shiv," you whine. "Enough work for the night. Please? For me?"

She lets out an airy sigh, pressing a kiss onto the back of your head, into your hair. “I’m sorry. Let’s go home.”

You take her chin and guide her mouth to yours.

She makes a satisfied noise against your lips. She tastes like honey. Honey crafted by Dionysus for one of his wines. She groans deeply when you shift in her lap, unintentionally grinding against her.

You get to your feet, Shiv following after packing up her things. Her computer bag slung over her shoulder and her hand in yours, she drags you through the parking garage. “Do you really have to go to work tomorrow?”

“What kind of question is that?” She pauses to toss her stuff into the back seat of your car while you climb into the driver’s seat. “But no. I’ll stay home. I know you have the day off.” She gives you a peck before you start driving.

God, you love staying home with her. Your life became infinitely better when you moved in with her. You were both so madly in love with one another. Life was in color when you were with you, in black and white when you weren’t.

Before she disappears into the bathroom to begin her nightly routine, she kisses you deeply. You’re sure you can get drunk off of the way she tastes alone. She tastes like pure sunlight. Like liquid gold.

She’s stressed, she has so much on her mind, so much to do. It’s getting late, but you want to do something for her. If you hurry, you think you can have your plan neatly executed before she’s inclined to go to sleep. As fast as you can, you find the spare dough from the last time you did this for her. You quickly roll everything out, shaping the cinnamon buns, and have a glaze and frosting made. You pour honey over the dough so that when you bite into the buns, the honey oozes out, warm and sweet. You dip them in the glaze and you have them in the oven under the half hour.

Shiv strolls out from the bathroom, hair pulled back in a messy ponytail. God, her eyes. You can never look away from her eyes. Her silk pajamas leave most of her skin exposed- her supple thighs, her plush arms. Her hips fill out her shorts in a way that makes you embarrassingly hot and bothered. She's a goddess walking on earth unworthy of her. You want to drop everything you're doing in your life to just do whatever the fuck she asks of you. To spend the rest of your days with her. She's so fucking beautiful and you can't believe she's committed herself to you. You just love her so much. You feel so fucking lucky.

“What’s baking?” she asks, cuddling up to you on the couch. “It smells nice.” She takes your arm and puts it around her. Her cheek presses into your shoulder. She’s blinking back sleep, but she’s holding on. Anything to spend more time with you.

“Your favorite,” you murmur back.

“Are you sure? It’s late,” she says unconvincingly, looking up at you with a dreamy look on her face.

“You should treat yourself, Shivvy,” you tell her. Your expression is one loaded with affection. You hope you two never have to separate.

She kisses you quickly. “I love you.” Soon enough, your timer rings, and you get up to get the honey cinnamon buns out of the oven. She hovers over you as you set the tray on the counter. The steam swirls through the air, twirling between the two of you. Her arms wind around your waist, her head leaning into your neck. “I mean it. You’re the best human being on the planet.”

You kiss the top of her head. “You’re my girl. I’d do anything for you.”

She plants a warm kiss into the crook of your neck before grabbing a plate from the silverware cabinet. “Let’s share one!”

“Oh, uh, you can have it all,” you say quickly.

“No, you too. I can’t eat this all by myself.” She cuts the bun in half, settling both sides on the same plate so you could share. Like you always do.

“Um, I really shouldn’t be having any sugar,” you say meekly. “I’ve been gaining.” You look away, ashamed.

You’ve had issues with your body, with eating, for as long as you can remember. It was embarrassing to admit, but they started and childhood, and no matter how hard you fucking tried, they never went away. Especially as of recently.

Going to the gym, eating healthy. You did it all- or at least you thought it did. But you suppose not, because you were worse off than you started.

“Baby,” Shiv says incredulously. “Gaining? Where? If anything, it’s muscle.” She nudges you with her hip. She can tell when things run deep. This is one of them. “Come on. You can’t actually think you need to lose weight.” When you don’t say anything, she presses on. “Is this a self confidence thing? You’re literally the prettiest woman I’ve ever seen in my life. You’re hips are the sexiest thing-”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, let’s just eat?”

“No, no, I’m solving this issue,” she insists. “I don’t care if you’re a little chubby- which you’re not -because that doesn’t mean anything. You’re healthy, you’re a smoke show, so what’s it fucking matter?”

She drops the knife she was waving around while she spoke, instead coming over to smooth her hands over your jaw and give you a nice, long kiss. She pulls away and presses a fat kiss to the spot just above your belly button.

The two of you eat together, you albeit hesitantly, but she urges you on. You’re glad you have her. She’s everything to you, and you’re everything to her.

When you kiss her the last time for the night, she tastes of what you imagine the rest of your life with her is going to look like.

Honey, pure sunlight, liquid fucking gold.

#shiv roy #siobhan roy #shiv roy x reader #shiv roy x you #succession #succession hbo #succession fic #succession x reader #wambsgansshoelaces #anon ask #requests open #prompt writing #siobhan roy x reader #siobhan roy x you #shiv your oneshot #wlw #I’m so gay

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hopefulromances · 9 months

Text

Long Time Coming I Chapter Seven I Hits Different

Summary: Being hired as the first female assistant coach in the league was a challenge of it itself. Being a football protigy and University Football Legend was easy enough. Coaching Jamie Tartt was a challenge all on its own.

Word Count: 3.2k

Warning: Talk of death, angst, angst, and oh yeah, angst

A/N: The absolute love that's been coming from yall this week has made me so soft! Thank you! Enjoy this chapter ;-)

Prologue One Two Three Four Five Six

When I got the call that Rebecca’s father had passed and that we would all be going to the funeral, I didn’t know exactly how to react. Daddy issues aside, what was I meant to wear? What do you say to someone who’s father passed? I was never good at these types of things.

I came late, purposefully. Trying to avoid as much awkward small talk as possible. As I stood outside the church, I felt my palms getting sweaty. The last funeral I’d been to… well let’s just say it hadn’t gone well. Man, I could really use Ted right now.

I walked in quietly, trying not to attract attention. Unfortunately, the door closed much hard behind me, making a rather large noise as it closed. It caught the attention of Keely who was standing with Sassy inside.

“Hey babes!” She greeted, reaching out her hand to me. “Welcome to the party.” I grabbed her hand and entered the group, giving her a side hug. “I thought this was a funeral.”

“Holy shit, your tits look great!” Sassy complimented, motioning to her chest.

I looked down subconsciously, trying to fix my dress to cover up my cleavage “Oh, is it too much?”

“Definitely not.” Keely reached up and adjusted my dress again, so it was back to how it was originally. “You look great.”

“Oi, what were you saying about Rebecca secretly dating someone?” Sassy interrupted. I turned wide-eye to Keely.

“Rebecca’s dating someone?” I removed my arm from around Keely and turned so I was standing next to Sassy. “And you didn’t tell me?”

“I don’t know anything for sure, but I’m pretty sure it’s been going on for like weeks now,” Keely whispered. Now that she mentioned it, Rebecca had been acting differently. She wasn’t coming out as much or spending as much time in the locker room. It was like she was hiding something.

“Now.” Sassy’s eyes gained a mischievous look on her face. “Is today an inappropriate day to inquire/badger her into telling us who?”

“We’ll never know unless we try!” Keely responded, giggling. Suddenly her gaze turned warning as she looked over my shoulder.

“Keely.” Jamie’s voice surprised me from behind. I turned around and was surprised to see him in a suit, with a shirt on underneath.

“Jamie. Wow! Nice suit!” She greeted, turning to see him. Then as Jan and Nate approached as well “All of you. Look at you!”

I felt like my voice was caught in my throat. This was a funeral, a really bad time to be thirsting over Jamie but he just looked so damn good. I swallowed hard, glancing down at his feet.

“And no trainers! On any of you,” I chimed in. “Making me proud.”

Jamie looked surprised when he saw me, and I didn’t miss the way his eyes darted down and back up. “Hi (Y/N). I didn’t see you come in.”

Ever since the night club, I’d tried to avoid Jamie as much as possible. I woke up the next morning, unfortunately sober, and remembered how lose my lips were the night before. And the fact that we had almost nearly kissed on the dance floor. Our morning practices were short and I had begun taking my lunches with Keely and Roy to avoid spending anymore unnecessary one-on-one time with Jamie.

It hurt, of course, to be away from him. I had become really attached to him and his presence in my life. I don’t know if he felt it, but to me it was like there was a giant Jamie sized hole missing.

I glanced over at the door. “Oh, yeah, I was… late, I guess.”

“Well, you look great,” he commented. “It’s a nice… err… dress.”

“Yes, your breasts look very nice in that dress,” Jan agreed, giving me a warm smile.

Jamie turned and smacked Jan on the back of the head. “Now is not the time to be commenting on her breasts, twat.”

“Oh! I did not mean to be offensive.” In his defense he did look apologetic. Well, as apologetic as the Dutch man could muster. “I simply meant your dress fits you well.”

“And Nate!” Thank God, for Keely. “Is that the suit that Ted got you.”

“What, this?” He looked surprised by the question.

“Yeah!”

“Um, I can’t remember… uh, yes! Yeah,” he stumbled through his answer.

I nodded at him. “it’s a really nice suit!”

“Another man buying you clothes is infantilizing, yes?” Jan Maas interjected, a curious look on his face. There was an awkward pause as we all tried to figure out how to answer.

“Fucks sake,” Jamie muttered. He turned to me. “Want to go find a seat?”

I glanced over at Keely. She had heard all about that night from me and had insisted that it was a sign. She was fully on the (Y/N) x Jamie train and told me that I just HAD to confess my feelings for him in the most romantic way possible. I, however, felt like every time I spoke with Jamie, I ended up sticking my foot in my mouth.

Right now, she was giving me a not-so-subtle signal to go with him. God, why did it have to be a funeral.

“Sure! Let’s go. Let’s go find a seat!” I said, coolly. Though not that coolly. More, oddly than coolly. But Jamie didn’t seem to notice as he started to lead me further down the aisle. I turned back to look at Keely who was giving me a big thumbs up. As if I would confess my feelings to Jamie right now. ‘Hey Jamie, I know there’s a dead body in front of us, but do you want to make out with me and have lots and lots of babies?’ Didn’t exactly roll off the tongue did it.

He stared quietly ahead of us at the crucifix above the alter. I couldn’t read his face. I wish I could tell what he was thinking in this moment. But instead, I found myself looking over the delicate features of his face. His eyes, his mouth, his lips. I was going to burn in hell.

“I didn’t know you owned a dress shirt, Jamie,” I decided on saying, giving him a smile.

“I didn’t. Had to go buy one,” he told me, looking down at his shirt. “Did you know that you can buy these in bulk for like 20 quid?”

“Yeah… yeah I did know that.”

“Fucking wild,” he muttered. “Had to go with Colin and Dani to a shoe store down the street to get dress shoes.”

I was suddenly overwhelmed with softness at the thought. The boys all got together and decided to come to this all on their own. They came, dressed to the occasion, to support their owner even though she didn’t ask them to.

“Well, it means a lot,” I said, softly. “To Rebecca, that you all came.”

He looked over at me and shrugged. “Yeah well… we’s a family, ain’t we?”

He truly was a completely different person than when we first met. I knew that, but it really hit me in this moment. I opened my mouth to respond to him when we were interrupted by Spanish cursing. Dani came up from behind us, praying and cursing under his breath.

“I hate dress shoes so much, Jamie,” he whined, leaning on Jamie for support.

“I know, muchacho,” Jamie responded sympathetically. “Cause remembers, they ain’t made for people like us. They’re made for sheep. They’re made for Muggles. They’re made for twats.”

�� “Thank you for your sacrifice, Dani,” I encouraged.

“When I get home, I will set them on fire, and their memory will burn in hell.”

Jamie and I stared at each other. “Jesus, Dani.”

Dani looked at us, an incredulous look on his face. “Jesus has no place in the conversation of these damn shoes.”

With that he began limping forward, resuming his frantic praying. I watched him leave, feeling his pain from where I was standing.

I suddenly felt really hot and my palms began to sweat again. Then in an instant, my heart began to race as a sense of panic washed over me.

“You alright?” Jamie’s voice broke through my sweat.

I swallowed, trying to get some moisture back in my throat. “Uh, yeah, I’m fine I just… I need to step outside.”

I began to walk off towards a side door. I turned over my shoulder and saw Jamie watching after me, concern lacing his face. Got I wanted to go back and hold him. Tell him everything that was bothering me and let him comfort me. But now was not the time or the place. Instead, I pressed on and walked outside.

As I did, it felt like I was coming up for air after taking a dive into the deep in. I covered my face as I tried to ground myself in the current moment. If only Ted was here. He would know how to help me right now.

Suddenly, I heard loud laughter. I looked around for the source of the noise and saw a back room. I wandered over to the room and saw inside Keely, Sassy, and Rebecca along with her mother and Nora.

“What is going on in here?” I laughed, coming in to join them.

Keely stood up and clapped her hands. “Someone is secretly shagging a footballer!”

I gave Keely a look, there was no way they were talking about Jamie and me. “We aren’t shagging!”

There was silence in the room as the women a looked at each other. Then they burst out into another round of squeals and screaming. I looked around, realizing my mistake. They were not talking about me.

“Wait, wait, if you weren’t talking about me, then who-“

“No, you’re not getting out of this,” Rebecca cut me off, pointing at me. “Who are you talking about?”

“Rebecca is shagging Sam,” Keely blurted out, giggling like a toddler.

My mouth dropped. Not what I was expecting. “Wait, what?”

“Shut it, Keely, that is old news! Tell us who you are shagging.” Sassy tugged on my arm, practically pulling out of its socket.

I waved my hands around, trying to get my mind wrapped around the situation. “Okay, so Rebecca is shagging Sam, which is true. And I’m not shagging anyone, which is also true.”

“But you implied that you SOMETHING going on with someone else,” Nora pointed out. I glared at her. “What! I’m just saying!”

I looked over at Keely, begging for any kind of help in the situation but she was too caught up in the excitement to offer a diversion. Sassy came over and grabbed my arm.

“C’mon, anything you say in here, stays in here, we promise, right?” She comforted looking around at the other women for encouragement. I don’t know how much I trusted Sassy though. She could be a bit unpredictable, but honestly, I felt so safe in this room with these women. And fuck it, I was having a bad day.

“Okay…” I wavered, closing my eyes. “I have serious feelings for Jamie.”

The room broke out into screams of excitement, a thousand questions being thrown my way. I glanced over at Keely who was just smiling at me. Luckily, before I could start answering questions, the vicar came in and kicked all of us out.

Rebecca gave me a look that said We’ll talk later, and we walked out. Keely caught up to me and locked out arms together.

“You doing alright, babes?” She asked, tugging on my arm a bit.

“Me? Yeah. I’m doing great!” I shrugged, looking straight towards the church. “I mean who doesn’t love a good funeral.”

“Not me,” she grumbled. “Roy’s been giving me a hard time all day. I hate death.”

I laughed. “Bold statement, ‘I hate death.’”

“I don’t need shit from you too!” She protested, but she was smiling just as well.

We reentered the church and Keely went to join Roy. I started to make my way to the back of the church where I could sit in one of the empty aisles when I heard someone whisper call my name. I looked around and saw Jamie waving at me. When he saw he got my attention, he pointed to an empty spot next to him. He saved me a seat. My heart fluttered as I made my way over to him. He scooted down to give me a bit more room as I side stepped through the aisle past Isaac.

“Thanks for saving me a seat,” I murmured to him.

“Don’t mention it,” He replied. “I just got sick of listening to this one.” He pointed over to Dani who was sitting across the aisle. “I don’t know what padre he’s praying to, but I hope he fucking listens.”

I snorted, covering my mouth to keep my laugh in. Jamie smiled down at me as I regained my composure. I looked over at him and nudged him with my shoulder.

“You’re ridiculous.”

The funeral was interesting to say the least. Rebecca gave a unique but moving eulogy to her father that contained more Rick Astley than I was expecting and afterwards we all went back to Rebecca’s place for a reception.

Somehow, I lost Jamie. He started acting weird after the eulogy, like he was deep in thought. Which for Jamie, was never a good sign. Once we got to the house, he completely disappeared from me. I instead, found myself rounding the snacks table by myself.

“(Y/N) (L/N)!” Ted’s cheerful voice came from behind me. I was relieved to hear him. As much as he could get on my nerves with his constant optimism, right now, it was exactly what I needed. When I turned and saw him, I felt myself overwhelmed with emotion. Despite his voice, his eyes were sad.

“Hi Ted.” My response came out hoarser than I meant it to.

His eyes immediately flooded with concern. “Hey, you alright?” That was a question I had heard a lot today. ‘You Alright’. And I kept saying yes. Despite the turmoil in my head about the millions of emotions I was feeling about today. About funerals. About fathers. But hey, join the daddy issues club, I guess.

“Yeah,” I assured him, thinking on the issue. “My dad died six months before I started at Richmond.”

Ted raised his eyebrows at me as he took in my statement. I hadn’t told anyone that in my time at Richmond. I’d barely told anyone outside my family. But I told my dad that I got my job and a month later he was dead.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know that,” Ted consoled, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

I shrugged. “I haven’t told anyone. But… the funeral… it’s just…”

“Brought up memories?” Ted offered. At my look, he let out a breathy laugh. “Join the club.”

I wasn’t sure exactly what he was referencing but I’m sure it was his explanation for showing up late today. I decided not to press further and opted instead to pass him a beer bottle.

“To dads?” I beckoned, holding my own beer up to his.

“To dads!” He joined. Then paused for adding. “And to the things we left unsaid.”

I held my drink for a second thinking on his words before taking a sip of my beer. As I did, I finally found Jamie. He was walking across the living room to approach Keely. Everything that had happened between us in the past few months went through my head in an instant. From the early morning practices to the encouragement during training, to the bus ride and the club. He was someone I wanted in my life for the foreseeable future. He was someone I wanted in my life permenantly.

Things left unsaid.

“If you’ll excuse me a moment, Ted.”

I didn’t listen for his response and instead walked straight towards Jamie. I was going to do it. I was going to tell him. His back was to me as he chatted with Keely and I approached walking quickly, with a purpose. As I got closer, Is started to hear what he was saying.

“I didn’t just come back to Richmond to get away from me dad. I also came back ‘cause of you.” It felt like all the air in my lungs was knocked out of my in an instance. Keely’s face was frozen in one of shock as he spoke to her. “I finally think that I’m becoming the best version of meself, the kind of man that you always knew that I could be.” He was saying all the right things. All the wonderful things I had been thinking about him for weeks now. He was saying all the right things, just not to me. “And I know that this is a mad, shitty thing to do, but… I love you, Keely.”

Keely’s eyes lowered a bit and finally they met my eyes. My brain couldn’t process exactly what was happening. The relationship I had created with Jamie truly was all in my head. I had created the idea that he had leaned in to kiss me that night. It was all a lie.

Before he could turn around, I left. I left as fast as my feet could take me and get outside. My palms were sweaty again and that feeling of panic that I had felt in the church returned. I finally made it out the front door and took a big gulp of fresh air. I sat down on the porch and shoved my head in my hands, trying to ground myself once again. Vaguely, I heard the door opening behind me. I knew it was Keely without even having to look.

“(Y/N), I… I’m so, so, sorry,” she said as she sat down next to me. “I have no idea where that came from.”

“No, it’s alright, it’s not your fault.” I felt a laugh bubble it way out my chest. “It’s all my fault! It really is.” Keely looked at me like I was crazy. “I’m used to this! I’m used to getting my heart broken. I’m used to hearing the ‘love is a lie’ speech from my friends.” Finally, I took my head out of my hands and rested my chin in my hands. “But… it just feels different this time.”

And with that the laugh left my voices as my disappointment caught up with me and it was replaced by a sob. I covered my mouth, surprised by the noise that had just come out of it. Then my lip was shaking, and my eyes were shimmering with unshed tears.

“Oh, (Y/N)…” Keely cooed.

She wrapped her arms around me and pulled me into her. I rested my head on her shoulder and let myself cry.

Taglist: @heletsmelovehim @higherthanheroes @ajax-petropolus-wife @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @optimisticsandwichgladiator @kno-way-home @sleepy-time @wigglegiggle

hehehehehe

#jamie tartt #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt x y/n #ted lasso #ted lasso show #jamie tartt fanfiction #angst #enemies to lovers

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its-time-to-write · 11 months

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I love your writing! Can I request a Jamie tartt x reader where the reader is a famous actor or musician and it’s like the team meeting them or the media finding out? Thank you!!

I loved this! Thanks for requesting!

you know, you’ll always know me

“Jamie Tartt has been spotted around Manchester with lead singer and songwriter from band Room 17,” Isaac reads aloud. He snaps the paper shut and looks at Jamie. “Oi, when did you have time to go to Manchester?”

Jamie shrugs. “I dunno, mate, two nights ago?”

There’s a clamor of disbelief from the team throughout the locker room.

Colin’s voice cuts through the din. “Mate, that’s a four-hour drive. You drove eight hours to hookup with a famous singer?”

Jamie grins. “No.”

Isaac: “Elaborate.”

Jamie replies, “Nope,” popping the “p” sound at the end.

The boys chorus, “Aye, c’mon man, what the fuck,” right as Ted and Beard walk in.

“What’s all the hubbub?” Ted asks. “Usually that level of resignation is reserved for one of my many, specially-tailored puns.”

“Jamie hooked up with someone famous,” Sam answers.

Beard looks at Jamie. “Saw the papers. You’re way out of her league.”

Jamie puts his hands up. “That’s not what she said Tuesday night.”

“So you did hook up with her!”

“Look-” Jamie replies, “she said I ain’t allowed to talk about it in the locker room and I ain’t allowed to tell just anybody. She likes things private and I don’t blame her because you lot are a load of animals.”

Ted makes a mock offended face while Beard shrugs like yeah, that’s true.

Will looks up, thoughtful expression on his face. “Jamie, she said no locker room talk?”

Jamie says, “Yeah, why?”

“I mean, we could just, I dunno, go… somewhere else?”

“Will, you fucking genius,” Colin says, and Isaac gets up to go shake Will’s hand while saying, “Everyone, boot room, now!”

Less than a minute later, everyone is crowded into the boot room. Including Trent, Rebecca, and Higgins, who are never ones to miss a good story. Roy is the only one not present, with a short “fuck off!” at Ted’s extended invitation.

They’re all huddled around Jamie, whispering quietly amongst themselves until Isaac holds up a hand.

“Alright! Jamie’s going to tell us how he managed to pull the lead singer from Room 17, and then he’s going to apologize to,” Isaac checks a note on his phone and reads, “Dani, Sam, Richard, and Jan Maas because he knew they had a crush on her, and then to Colin because that’s his favorite band and you didn’t say shit to him.”

“Eh? That ain’t fair! We all had equal opportunity, I’m just the only one who took it,” Jamie replies indignantly.

There’s a “WHAT,” in unison from at least half the team followed by more clamoring.

“Oi, oi!” Jamie says. “Pipe down, and I’ll tell ya.

It was when we went to that club last month. I was gettin’ drinks for me and Dani, and there was this absolutely gorgeous girl sitting at the bar, scribbling somethin’ on a napkin. I was gonna introduce meself, but right as I went to say hey, she stood up and knocked both drinks out of me hand. One got on me and the other got on her napkin and I said ‘sorry about your napkin,’ and she said ‘nah it’s shit anyway. Sorry about your shirt,’ so I said, ‘it looks better on the floor.’ Guess she liked that, ‘cause that’s where it ended up.”

“That was a month ago, Jamie,” Sam interjects. “How did you end up in the papers this morning?”

Jamie grins and sticks out his tongue. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Isaac smacks the back of his head and Jamie yelps. “Ok, ok, I’ll tell ya!”

The team crowds closer. Rebecca is farther in the back, and she’s seemed strangely uninterested this whole time, typing on her phone.

“So. Turns out, she’s fit and funny, and she starts telling me she writes her own songs. And she say it ain’t a big deal, just something she does for fun, and I say I play football and it is a big deal, but she already knew who I was. Anyway, didn’t figure out who she was till after I asked her on a proper date, and I guess she thought that was cute or some shit. We’ve been sneakin around ever since.” Here Jamie smiles angelically. “I am cute or some shit.”

Ted, Beard, and Trent nod in assent and just before the team can bombard Jamie with questions, his phone dings then rings. Rebecca finally looks up from her phone in the back as Jamie checks his.

You’re calling him, so he makes a pipe down motion and answers.

“Hello Jamie Tartt,” you say. “What are you doing right now?”

“Hey babe!” he replies, team saying silent oohs and making kissy faces. “Not much, just with the lads. Did you see the papers?”

You laugh. “Yes, I saw the papers. I suppose it was only a matter of time before it got out, and I know I’m a little late to the party, but you can tell the team now.”

You can hear Jamie’s smile through the phone as he says, “Thanks babe. Y’know they’re like my family.”

Even though he can’t see you, you nod. “I do know. That’s why I’m not upset that you’re in the boot room right now and have already told them everything.”

Jamie is stunned into silence as the team whispers, “what did she say, what did she say?”

“You can put me on speaker,” you say.

Jamie does and then asks, “How the fuck did you know where I was and what I was doing? Are you psychic?”

Jamie looks up around the room and Rebecca of all people catches his eye and winks as you say, “Oh, well, Rebecca Welton and I have been close for ages. She started texted me the moment she heard you were going to the boot room. She’s known about you and me since the first night.”

The room erupts into “WHATs,” and “Holy shits,” while Jamie goes to speak again.

“Babe,” he tries, but you can’t hear him above the noise. He pushes his way through the throng and out the boot room, Rebecca patting him on the shoulder as he goes past her.

“Babe,” he says again, “you sure you ain’t mad?”

Now he can hear your smile through the phone. “Yes, I’m absolutely positive. You could have told them sooner. And I think it’s funny that you went to the boot room to talk about it. Rebecca says it smells worse than shit.”

Jamie sighs. “Good. Good, yeah. I’m glad.”

“Actually,” you continue, “this got me out of my writing slump. I’ve been writing like crazy every time you leave. Got half an album in the works already.”

“Fuckin mental.” Jamie shakes his head. He’s great at football, sure, but your musical talent is something else.

“Jamie?” you ask hesitantly. “I- you know I- I mean-”

He cuts you off mid sentence with, “I love you.”

You’re holding your phone with both hands now. “How did you know what I was going to say?”

Jamie shrugs, then remembers you can’t see it. “Just your voice, I guess. Didn’t want you to feel awkward about it. Know we haven’t said it yet, but I do. And now that it’s out, maybe you can come down to Richmond for a proper football game, meet the lads.“

“I’d like that,” you smile. “Oh shit- my food’s burning. I’ve gotta go. I love you!”

“Love you too,” he replies. He hands up, slides his phone back into his pocket, and turns to see the entire Richmond team crowded around the boot room door, faces pressed to the glass. Jamie rolls his eyes, flips them off, and walks away, laughing. You’re going to love them.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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richeeduvie · 6 days

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Saw a vid of a mom asking her husband if he would babysit their daughter (as a prank tehe bc this one influencer made a vid ab how she has to bribe her husband to “babysit” their child and it was v upsetting bc she was just laughing it off :(() anyways the dad was like:

“??? what ru trying to say ¿¿¿ of course I’ll spend quality time with our daughter while ur out, don’t call it babysitting I’m not sitting on no baby 🤬”

He was so angry at the implication he wouldn’t want to take care of his baby for one night, it just gave ROMAN!! He would bite Baby’s head off if she tried to mess w him like this, and then he would bite her leg for trying to leave the house without her life companions. Why can’t he come with you to the spa? It doesn’t matter that he doesn’t want any services they provide, he is perfectly content to sit on a chair in complete silence and just stare at your face while u get pampered. That IS his preferred self care routine. And the baby? The misty air and soothing aura has her in a deep slumber, her chunky cheeks smooshed into her papas chest she’s securely wrapped against. She’s a perfect little thing, Roman is,,, a scrappy little thing BUT STILL! Baby mommy claims to love him anyway, so why does she want to go alone???

All of this just for Baby to not even have an actual evening away planned 😭 poor woman. She just upset her impish man, and saddened her angel who heard her papas wails of distress “Mama u want to go away 😞?” Stupid Roman when will he learn he can’t go on his tirades anymore, there’s a toddler who roams these halls! Baby pinches him and walks away pissed w her baby, he’s always ruining her fun. He comes to bed an hour later, she makes him grovel but puts him out of his misery because he did in fact book them a weekend getaway to the Hamptons yay! All 3 Roy’s are coming tho bc he’s still her ball and chain.

This took me so long to type and it’s supposed to be a request 😭 my apologies, feel free to change anything and everything you’d like, I gotta go take a test I’ve had all day to complete and pushed to the last minute.

I love when you people write drabbles. I get to be the reader. I get to consume!! And it's always great. I love this!

Babysitter

Roman Roy x Reader blurb - DogandBone!AU

He is her father. Not her fucking babysitter.

------

Roman watches your daughter just toddle around. She's perfect. And this is perfect. He's such a father.

He became a father when you had her, yeah. But here - just looking at her, something soft and swallowed in his eyes, it's all the more prominent.

She plays with blocks. Roman watches intently. It makes you warm and you think he's under the sun like this, he's getting red in the face for it. He can't handle her being cute, which at this point, you think that just means your little girl being a little toddler.

"Top blue. No red. Ba ba blue."

It almost breaks away the giddiness of a prank.

Roman's with your baby all the time. You are with your baby all the time. You're with Roman all the time. Safe to say, you think he'll call you an idiot whore for the idea that he's babysitting. That or it'll be meanie. Mean wife.

You smile.

"Roman, I was planning on going out tonight."

"...It's five. I have to get ready? You didn't want to plan on going out tonight yesterday? Look at her, she's not mentally prepared for being outside. Also, fuck the outside. It was smelling like sewage when we came in, but I think it was that guy who looked like his name was Eddie."

"I was just thinking by myself. I didn't make an appointment but I think they can fit me in for a semi-retreat."

Roman looks to the babbling toddler with her blocks. She's very focused on building it high. Then he turns to you.

"Are you sick of me? Fuck you. What did I even do?"

"Nothing. I just felt impulsive for a spa night."

"I didn't even do anything - like actually...nothing? And now you want to go get your feet rubbed by someone else? Whore. Whore Mommy."

"Ba!"

You roll your eyes. You know Roman has to remember that he gets too whiny and puppy-eyed whenever you mention a foot rub you've had from a spa day. You've taken your feet just for him.

"It'll be quick. Maybe a facial. You can babysit her for a bit?"

"I can literally give you a facial. If you make me, I can-"

Roman's shift with his hands, his attempt to convince, humor, and humiliate.

"...What did you just...what the fuck?"

His eyes get sorta squinty. He's riled. You like Roman riled - you can always get him small and defenseless when he goes too far in a defense. But here, in how you try not to laugh, you'll have to know when to settle.

Maybe now with the vein popping in his forehead.

"Daddy go swear. No swear, Daddy. Blocks like when ears are clean."

Her block tower is almost as tall as her. But she's come up to Roman, shaking her head at his bent knee. She's making sure her Daddy hears her.

You swallow when Roman's not bending his anger to his humor. He just squeezes your daughter's chubby little hand.

You don't think the word babysit has sat well with him at all.

"Did you just tell me to fu...did you kinda just tell me to babysit her?"

Yes, you do. It was funnier in the video. But the husband in the video wasn't Roman.

You should know better, you love him too much that you should know better.

"Why Daddy look crazy?"

Roman pinches his nose bridge and swallow again.

"You just piled a cock-load. A massive cock-load of hurt on me. Wow. Okay." He stands. He's gotten so seriously so quickly. "You're mean and you've been snorting my dead dad's blood clot medication or maybe you've had a brain aneurysm because is she not my kid?"

Your daughter, her sweet head looking up to her Daddy, looks just as confused as you.

"I have not left this place and I really didn't want to because she's my kid. It's not babysitting - I'm not a nanny. We agreed on no nannies? I'm a nanny?"

"Roman-"

"Is this your way of telling me I've been secretly cucked and she's not my baby?"

"...M' not baby?"

You and Roman both turn at the softest voice. It's sweet and genuine and so toddler-like. She is too cute and she is just a toddler. A perfect child who bites her fingers.

Then Roman looks sick - and even though you're the dumb one here, it serves him right for making your sweet girl ask the question in the first place.

"No. Honey, you're my baby. I'm not a babysitter. Do I look like I crush babies?"

Roman's voice tightens in a whine. Possessive and defensive. All of him in the small of his throat.

"Mommy just doesn't like us." Roman looks down, feigns a moment of thinking with his the line of his mouth pushing to one side. "Well, what are we gonna do? We just have to let her go away and do a spa day without us. It's just us now. Forever. Sucks for Daddy mostly cause I've always planned suicide for this route but-"

"Roman."

"Mommy?"

"Oh, sweetheart-"

Her tiny, perfect voice breaks. She's more confused than ever and your heart twists.

"Mommy. No go, I don't-I don't-" She looks to Roman. "...You go away? Why?"

She's very soft and shy in her voice, like she always is. Still too kind for a toddler as she gets teary-eye.

You look to Roman, it's easy to show disappointment along your face.

He looks like he's about to vomit watching his daughter.

You bend down.

"No, sweetheart. Mommy's not going anywhere. Nowhere, okay? I was just joking. Daddy was just joking."

"I don't- I don't know."

"It's okay. Now you do. Mommy's here forever."

She sniffles and unlike her father, she doesn't feign thinking - she thinks really hard. She nods and rubs her cheek against your chest.

"Sorry for crying. But okay." She wraps her arms around you as much as she can. "Daddy, I don't know why you tell that."

Now your little girl is back to a silly voice in questioning.

"Yeah, Daddy. Why did you say all of that? To a little baby girl?"

"...I didn't - Daddy didn't mean..."

Roman's voice fades and breaks.

Well, you've gotten him small this way. You sigh and stand up, taking your daughter with you. You don't think it'll bode well if you try to leave her by skin.

"Jesu-!"

"You love a good nipple pinch."

Roman rubs his nipple with a scrunched face.

"It's my sorry. I'm sorry, Rome - it was a joke. I don't even have any plans. I just wanted to see how much babysitting would fuck with you. And it fucked with you."

And not pinching the other nipple is his punishment.

You hear a little mm on your shoulder. You kiss your daughter's cheek.

"Sorry, baby."

"She's a smart baby, she understands now. No suicide talk, at least.

"...Sorry." Roman just looks to his shirt. You think it's because he can't look to you. "That was like...mean. She's my baby."

"I know. That's why it's a joke. I'm gonna be in the room. Come with your own sorry."

You're almost asleep with your baby in your arms when Roman comes. You don't know he's been swallowing the sickness down while staring into the threads of the couch. Cause he's just the worst fucking Daddy who can't take a joke. That's him. He's a cute, smart sort of guy that everyone should want with the one person he wants being a super hot Mommy-lady. His best friend. But he's also fucking stupid. He should die, maybe?

Roman scratches a digging sort of scratch at the image of his daughter in her almost tears, confused and reaching for her mommy.

He needs a kiss. He needs a kiss right now or he'll die. It feels like it. He can't breathe, stupidly.

Roman comes into the room and monkey cuddles you from behind. He manages to play with her hair. Her asleep, mouth slightly parted like her father when you watch him sleep.

"We'll go to the Hamptons and we can give facials there. Make them creamy. But it's all of us that are going. And you can't leave me. Like. Actually. Not out of my sight. You won't be able to perceive anything but me and our daughter and that means no stupid ideas.

"Roman."

"She's asleep. Also...sorry for being the worst Daddy. I really did mean for my quip to end up putting our baby in tears."

You sigh.

You know he's suffered enough. He's real in his insecurity.

You kiss his forearm and you hear a sharp breath from behind, it moves against your spine.

"You're the best Daddy. It was nothing. She'll make you play floaties with her forever in the pool."

"...Fuck yeah. She will do that. Hopefully, if, you know, I didn't slap trauma on her face at my attempt at humor against a toddler-"

"Roman."

It's not his name that shuts him up, it's just bite to his forearm. It's all the love in your teeth.

"Yeah?"

"We love you."

"I was hoping on that for my will to not throw myself over the timber Brooklyn bridge..."

You feel his cheek press into your back.

"I love you guys too. Tell her I said that if I fall asleep before she wakes up."

You smile against Roman's bitemark. You'll try your best. It's the least you can do after your mess of a joke. Your love in making more small and needy for you after everything never outranks the need for him to know that he is loved.

Roman nuzzles before there's a lick.

"Can do."

#inbox #hc's #drabble #dog and bone!au #roman roy x reader #succession fanfiction

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