#the things i would do for you mr kent

[masochistartt]

roy kent, 1x01

#roy kent #ted lasso #the things i would do for you mr kent #yes i needed to gif sweaty roy for science #no other reason

[bomertheshark]

Scenting

A Clark Kent x top male reader

Short

You worked as a contract assistant for hero’s . Anytime a hero needed anything to be taken care of when they were visiting from out of town or if they just needed an assistant during their personal life while they were out fighting crime. To get into this job you had to have a certain commitment since the pros would divulge personal information about their true lives, which was no laughing matter if you were just going to sell them out.

All of this to say that your newest client was the elusive Superman also now known to you as Clark Kent a writer for the Daily Planet. With good recommendations from your boss and previous clients he decided to hire him as his assistant for around 8 months. He didn’t really want to commit to the full year but it was better than nothing. You waited on him hand and foot for anything he could need. If he needed groceries, needed a tableau submitted, for his clothes to laundered, even to contact other pros for assistance and such. In order for you to be close to him you rented an apartment near him without being so close that it was suspicious. You learned a lot about him at the 6 month mark, He loved being a reporter but hated the people he worked with, a lot of women actually liked him but the most persistent so far was a woman named Lois Lang. no matter how hard he tried to get her off his back she wouldn’t let go. It got so bad that she had started to slightly stalk him to the point where she became suspicious of you and Clark’s relationship. She actually tried to confront you about it saying things like “You should stay away from Clark he isn’t gay like you.” And “Even if he was gay I could turn him since he would never consider you.” None of it bothered you per say since you were comfortable with your sexuality and knowing the rules of your contract even if you liked him you couldn’t be together since he wanted clear boundaries after working with you for 4 months. But you were concerned for Clark just in case you were seen with him as Superman as well and some villain pieced it together, to pull the suspicion away from you both you and your boss decided it would be better if you started meeting a coworker and making it look like you were in a relationship.

Everything was going fine for the next few months even though Clark had become a bit weird around you. He stopped asking for things sometimes or he started asking for a lot from you. You were starting to get slightly suspicious when it all came to a head when he came to you wanting to break the contract. You were slightly alarmed at first but understood that since he didn’t even want to commit to the full year he must not have needed you anymore, no fuss no muss you signed the break and alerted your boss that the contract was no longer in place and that you would be moving back to your previous residence.

Thought something weird had happened the night you were to move out of the apartment, Clark had been watching you closely but not offering to help which was strange since he normally was really nice and made conversation before insisting on helping you move something around. You made a point not to point it out but it still struck you as strange. Once you finally moved back into your place you visited your coworker to tell thank them for pretending to be their partner so that it wouldn’t out your client. Obviously he had no quips about it and sent you on your way with some leftovers after you two had dinner together.

Time passed and you were just going into your room to take your before bed shower. You were startled to see your old client Clark Kent standing near the doorway to the balcony. “Oh God! What are you doing here Mr. Kent?” You said calming your beating heart. “Oh, well I’m not sure I think I just wanted to see you… I’m not sure.” He responded looking fidgety.

You weren’t really sure when he made his was over to you but he was now holding on to you as he was smelling your neck, not aggressively just almost soaking it in before you pulled away, something was obviously the matter. He almost looked like a dog with its hackles raised a look of someone had touched something that was his. “You went to go see them again?” He said in a low tone. You confused responded by asking him what he meant. “That man, I can smell him on you. Did you go to see him again?” He said almost like he was accusing you of lying. “Oh! You mean my coworker! Yeah I went to have dinner with him and talk.” He was not satisfied by this answer as he shoved you onto the bed. “You had dinner with him?! Why would you have dinner with him?” At this point you were really confused, concerned and a tad agitated, your client who broke off the contract found your residence and is now throwing you around while asking really weird questions, fed up with this you full on asked him what he meant by that, why he was in your bedroom and why he just decided to throw you onto the bed. He didn’t answer anything just standing there staring at you.

You changed your position to be sitting on the edge of the bed hands behind you holding you up with your legs spread and leaning a bit back to get a full look of his face. Once this change happened Clark seemed to have some sort of realization before apologizing to you and getting on his knees. “Clark are you okay? Do you need me to call someone for you or something?” This broke him out of his trance and now he was in between your legs staring up at you. Startled you instinctively grabbed him by the hair tilting his head back. He whined from this, he fucking whined. At this point you start to realize what all of this has been, it all made sense now. He was jealous of the fact that you were “seeing” someone else, broke the contract at the realization that he liked you because he wanted to get closer and the night your contract was officially terminated he came to see you hoping to be with you but smelt the very man he was jealous of and thought you were dating.

Once you brought this up to him he confessed and cried to you a little about how he wanted to be with you and wanted you to like him back. This also made you realize that you totally forgot to tell him why you were “dating” this guy and that it was all fake in the first place.

You also realized that your boss totally knew this and probably didn’t tell you to because she knew that the hero liked you in that way.

All of this now led to now where he’s all over you, naked just covering you in his sent while enjoying the feeling of being full from your cock. Everything was exactly as he wanted it.

You’ll thank your boss later for this but for now you have to take care of the hero who was drunk off your scent.

Sorry this one took so long! I really liked just writing more about the time together than the smut.

#bomertheshark #top male reader #dom male reader #x male reader #seme male reader #male reader #bottom character #clark kent x top male reader #clark kent x male reader

[indigowallbreaker]

In before the update tomorrow

Here are my predictions/wishlist Stardew Valley 1.6 update! These range from "could happen" to "just let me dream":

Children aging past toddlerhood; gain ability to change their outfits

Another set of romanceable NPCs (eyeing Sandy and the Wizard particularly)

More post-marriage dialogue/events. Like an anniversary date

Festivals changing as the years go on. For example: after getting 8 hearts with Sam, Abigail, and Sebastian, maybe their band plays at the Stardew Valley Fair; the governor brings his wife to the Luau the year after you make the soup taste Delish

The ability to properly befriend certain NPCs like Marlon and Gunther

Separate screen to keep track of farm animals, similar to villager screen in the menu (helpful to me when I play a file I haven't logged into in a while and discover after 3 in-game days that I have sheep)

Non-binary farmer option

Please let me interact with the stuff in the community center I spent my whole file trying to fix

NPCs will repeat dialogue to you after you've spoken to them already during a festival to avoid the creepy situation of wandering around an event and not being able to speak with anyone like they've suddenly become statues and you're the only living thing left in town

Other bachelors/bachelorettes getting together after you're married (little bit of the old Harvest Moon rival system)

More NPCs that move to town the longer you live there, like Kent arriving in Year 2

Morris shows up every once in a while after you complete the Center just so you can appreciate how much you ruined this man's whole life. Or he experiences Growth from being in the Valley, whichever

Heart events occurring more than once. For example: replaying Abigail and Sebastian's gaming/RPG heart events; Leah can hold more than one art show to sell exclusive art; Elliot will have a new book for you to hear an excerpt from every year or so; help Penny teach the kids again; etc.

More ways to increase max health

Could I have a birthday please Mr. Ape ;_;

Fix the "Leek Surprise Gift" cutscene unlocked after Evelyn's special request so that I don't wanna crack George over the head afterwards just because I picked the dialogue option that would give his poor wife credit

Make George Nice To His Wife Every Once In A While patch

Option to fist fight certain villagers, either instigated by them when their friendship gets too low or instigated by you if you've just always hated them and wanna do something about it

At 10 hearts Jodi runs away to travel with Emily and Haley's parents because apparently no one on that street actually wanted to be a parent

Give me ten good reasons Willy can't adopt me

#Stardew valley #mine #stardew #cannot WAIT to see how many of these are way off base usagcvisdahf #first on the list was gonna be a new farm map but ape already said there would be one so it feels like a cheap shot #can you tell whomst I'd wanna punch most it's Jodi #readmores are for paying costumers

[shakespeareallanpoe]

The Kents

Honestly, we just don't talk enough about how Clark discovered his powers. Or young Clark in general. And personally, I think that's very unfortunate of us.

Not to mention he was the quintessential "aliens crash land into a farm in the middle of nowhere" around the same time in history that America had its alien crop circle conspiracy phase/obsession.

Just sayin. One could milk a great deal of entertainment out of that...

Some kid at school: "Good gravy. Did y'all hear what the radio folk are all preachin' these days? Aliens are crashing into our fields left an' right! Ain't that the darndest thing..."

Clark, 12, seeing all his classmates in x-ray because his vision turned on a day ago and he can't turn it off: "uh- uh huh."

Alternatively:

Teacher: "I just don't know what to do Mrs. Kent. Clark was such a a well behaved boy an' now he just ain't listenin' to a thing I say!"

*Clark, twitchy and exhausted because his super hearing zeroed in on 1 specific cricket that hasn't shut up for the past three days*

Mrs. Kent: "...Well I'm sure it's a phase, all the boys would rather be playin' in the outdoors at this age anyway." *Seriously considers wacking Clark on the head with a tool to give the poor boy some sleep but rethinking it because last week they found out he was invincible. (Not that she would ever hurt her son anyway)*

Alternatively:

Clark: "What am I doing? Am I God? Why me?"

Cow: "mooooo" 🐮

Clark: "You know, any day now I could start speaking cow-eese and then you'll have to watch your mouth Betty."

#He never did learn cow-eese #that superpower has yet to kick in #Betty says it like it is #dc comics #dc fanon #superman headcanons #clark kent #Superman #kal el #DC universe #DC comics #smallville

[axelsagewrites]

Roy Kent*Locker Room

Pairing: Season one!Roy Kent x f!reader

Word count: 2063

Warnings: swearing (kent style), m! receiving oral, voyeurism/exhibitionism, Jamie flirting with reader, Roy’s inner thoughts aka light violence, smut 18+

Masterlist here

Jamie fucking Tartt was about to get his front teeth knocked out his fucking skull if he didn’t back the fuck down was all Roy could think about during practise. that and knocking him over the head with a heavy rope, or a rock, or his fist, or his shoe, or really anything. of course, the American didn’t see the harm in Jamie running up and down the pitch like a twat but as captain Roy wanted nothing more than to ship all three of them back on a plane to wherever the hell the cowboy came from.

the only solace Roy got during that practise was your text saying you would pick him up after practise for a surprise date. for a moment it actually brought a smile to his face. that was till he caught sight of Tartt doing his own chant, so he sent back a quick ‘love u’ text before going to yell at the knob head celebrating a fake match.

Roy counted down the seconds till he could get off this damn pitch however when coach lasso called, he decided to fall back. by making sure Roy was the last one in the locker room and showers he could make sure he was as far back from Jamie Tartt who was running like he was being chased. if only it was Roy chasing him with a big stick.

anyone who spoke to him only received a grunt in return. as Roy came back from the showers with only a towel round his waist most of the team had left. Jamie was at his locker taking his stupid tongue out selfies as Issac said a quick goodbye to him, dodging Roys gaze as he and Collin split, Sam not far behind.

Roy inwardly smiled at the way Nathan ran out the room when he walked in. when he got to his locker the first thing, he did was check his phone to discover you were already here, so he quickly let you know he just had to get changed. when lasso and beard tried to say goodbye Roy just grunted as he pulled on his jeans.

when he glanced behind him, he was grateful to see Jamie finally sauntering out the room, not even bothering to say goodbye to his captain to which Roy was thankful for. when the door shut behind Jamie Roy let out a sigh of relief being the only one left in the room.

you however had decided not to wait in the car and just meet Roy in the locker room. you nodded and smiled to all the boys you passed but didn’t stop to talk since you weren’t there for them. as Isaac and colin left the two wondered how in the hell you and Roy worked considering you were always kind and happy whereas Roy was, well Roy.

You were barely able to slip passed ted and beard with just a howdy hello. However only one of the boys managed to stop you in your path, “Look who it is,” Jamie grinned, opening his arms out wide making you roll your eyes with a smile, “Its Mrs grampa,”

“Hello to you too Tartt,”

“Don’t worry love I won’t keep ya. Can’t risk grampa having to wait for his sponge bath,”

You rolled your eyes again as you kept walking, knowing full well Jamie was staring at your arse, “You’re just jealous he gets one and you don’t,” you grinned, excited to finally see your boyfriend after a long day.

“If you ever wanna be with a real footballer love you’ve got my number,” he said, clicking his tongue and firing finger guns at you before spinning on his heels and finally leaving.

you were laughing quietly as you opened the door to the locker room, finally laying eyes on your boyfriend. Roy looked up with a stone face, but a smile fell over it when he saw you, “What’s got you laughing then princess?” he asked as he fastened his belt.

“Just Jamie being a prick,” you said as you walked up to him. before Roy could start his impending rant, you looped your fingers in his belt loops, pulling him closer, “Sad I missed the show though,” you smirked, leaning up to kiss him.

Roy practically melted into your touch as his hand cupped your jaw, his other resting on your hip, “Im sure I could hit rewind for you,” he teased as he pulled back, his hands moving to your back to pull your body flush against his, “I’ve missed you,”

“You saw me this morning babe,” you laughed as your arms moved to rest over his shoulders.

Roy chuckled, his eyes glancing down, “Been thinking about you all day,”

“What about me specifically?” you teased, catching another quick peck.

his hands slid down your back slowly before he suddenly slapped your arse making you have yelped half squeal. “You know exactly what I’ve been thinking about. walking in here looking like this,”

“Looking like what?” you said, leaning in so your nose brushed against his.

“So, fucking fuckable,” he said, his voice somehow lower than before making your stomach do flips and knocking the butterflies all over the place, “Been thinking about those fucking lips all day,” Roy said before his lips crashed onto yours in a desperate messy kiss.

your hands gripped his hair making Roy groan into the kiss as his hands squeezed your hips tightly knocking the wind out of you. “Well, I can’t do much else with these lips till we get out of here,” you said, finally pulling away for air and walking backwards leading Roy towards the door.

“Says who?” Roy said, his hot breath fanning over your neck before his lips soon to kiss down your skin making you moan when he reached the crook of your neck. Roy moved you back till your back was against the locker room door.

“We can’t Roy,” you moaned, your grip tightening in his hair.

“Sure, don’t sound like you wanna stop,” he mumbled against your skin.

it had been a thought you’d had a lot, fucking Roy in the locker room. or really anywhere at Richmond. Roy had even said after his last win that he would’ve taken you on the pitch right then if he could. ever since the idea had been in your head and with the season just starting again it was seeming tempting, but you knew the cleaners would be coming round soon.

but not right now. Roy groaned when you pulled his head from your neck but his eyes about popped out his skull when he felt your hand on his belt buckle. “Seriously?” he asked, almost getting giddy about the idea as you unbuckled the belt, working quickly on the button of his jeans.

You hummed in response as you undid his zip, “Just my mouth though. for now,”

“Hey im not fucking complaining,” Roy grinned but his mouth fell open, a small moan from his lips when he felt your hand wrap around his cock, “Fuck babe wait- “he said making you almost pull your hand out his boxers but he grabbed your wrist to stop you, “Over here. so, we’re not in the middle of the room yeah?” he said as he led you over to the closest locker.

you laughed when you looked up at the locker, “You want me to suck you off in front of Jamies locker?” you said, still following Roy over.

“Cmon,” Roy groaned, his cock pulsing in your hand as he reached his enemies spot in the locker room, “This would be the ultimate fuck you. the fuck yous of fuck you,” he said as the backs of his legs hit the bench.

your hand moved from his dick, much to Roys dismay, to hold his shoulders. Roy was about ready to call it quits when he felt you push down on his shoulders, making him sit down on the bench. you stayed stood for a moment, your hand tracing over his jaw, “You Roy Kent, are a petty bitch,” you said as you slowly moved down onto your knees making Roy somehow get even harder, “Who I love,”

“I’ve never loved you more,” Roy said as he watched you with awe. you rolled your eyes as you leaned down to press a gentle kiss to his tip.

if you were going to do something so wrong you were going to do it right. you licked slow soft licks around his tip making Roy groan as his hand found its way into your hair, but he knew better than to rush you. he nearly gasped for air when he felt you lick down his shaft, your hand resting on the other side of his sensitive member.

you teased him for a few moments till you finally began to swirl your tongue around his tip before slowly sinking down his cock. Roy moaned, not caring if anyone was still here to hear him as your hands moved to cup his balls. his moans were all the encouragement you needed to keep going, your head bobbing down with an increasing pace as you felt his tip hit the back of your throat.

Roy felt like he could cum at any moment, but he wanted to enRoy this. his eyes were screwed up with pleasure but for some reason he felt the need to open them. when he did, he saw Jamie, standing at the other locker room door, his hand still on the handle and his jaw practically on the fucking floor.

having Jamie seeing this was somehow even better than him never knowing it happened. it took Jamie a moment to notice Roys eyes were open and when he met his captains eyes all Roy could do was smirk, leaning his head back to rest against the wall as Jamie stood there in awe. Roy wanted to enRoy this feeling, that was until he felt your cheeks hollow around his cock and his eyes screwed up in pleasure once more.

Roy knew he couldn’t wait any longer but when he went to tap your shoulder to tell you that, a signal you had decided upon months ago, you decided to keep going. Roy couldn’t contain himself any longer and he gasped as he felt himself spill his cum down your throat. your movements slowed but you didn’t pull your lips away till you had practically sucked all the life from the footballer.

when you pulled off, wiping your mouth with the sleeve of your shirt, you looked up to Roy with those doe eyes he loved so fucking much. seeing them made him reach down, pulling you in by your jaw to kiss you harshly. you heard some kind of click and you pulled back, glancing behind you, “Did you hear something?” you asked, slowly getting up from your suddenly sore knees.

“Nah,” Roy said as he helped you stand, getting up himself and zipping back up, “But we should go. gotta get you home so I can repay the favour,” he said making you giggle and rush towards the door, Roy slapping your arse as you went making you fake scold your boyfriend.

as you walked the halls Roy briefly wondered if he had taken it too far but after all it was Jamie, so he didn’t worry. then he wondered why Jamie hadn’t confronted him? was it actually Jamie that had seen him or some orgasm angle? if Jamie had down that to him Roy would’ve fucked him across the room and kicked the living hell out of him.

it must’ve been someone else Roy thought, trying his best to act casual as he walked with you to the parking lot. however, when Roy opened the door for you to walk into the car park, he looked up to see Jamie, sat his car eyes closed. Roy barked a laugh at the sight, making your head spin around looking for what was funny.

however, Jamie had heard your boyfriends laugh and by the time you spotted his car it was speeding out of the parking lot. You looked after the car, head tilted, “Jamies a weird one,” you said as you unlocked your car, and all Roy could do was laugh. next practise was gonna be the cats’ pyjamas.

Taglist: @clairacassidy @valeskafics

#ted lasso #ted lasso imagine #ted lasso x reader #ted lasson smut #ted lasso season one #roy kent #roy kent imagine #roy kent x reader #roy kent x you #roy kent x y/n #roy kent smut #roy kent fic #roy kent fanfiction #roy kent x jamie tartt #jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader

[skyjasper]

Don't call me crazy

Professor!Az X Student!Reader Modern AU

Masterlist

Summary: Y/N has been lusting after her new British professor since the first day of class, what a perfect coincidence he also becomes her private teacher in all things war and torture.

Warnings: vulgar content, smut, 18+, age gap romance, oral (Fem and Male receiving), choking, praise, dom!az.

Word count: 4207

The first time I stepped into Mr. Singers' classroom I was expecting an old white man who thought he was funny.

What I wasn’t expecting as I took my seat in the front row was for a mid-age, tan skin, handsome man with tattoos and a thick British accent to walk out of the office. I wasn’t the only girl who sighed at his devastatingly handsome face.

“Good morning class. Let’s start with basic attendance so I can put faces to names and then we will get started.” The words rolled out of his mouth with the most sensual deep British accent.

The professor for War and Peace in Historical Perspective was not at all what I thought. Not with his crisp black button-up that had to top button undone and the sleeves rolled up. Not with the inky shadows that peaked up the collar of his shirt and down his very muscular forearm.

I was too busy daydreaming about those muscular forearms holding my waist to hear him call my name.

“Mrs. Y/N?” He asked again, which I only heard because of my seatmate elbowing me.

“Here.” I hesitantly lifted my hand, slowly sinking back into my seat out of embarrassment. His gaze fell upon me with his golden honey eyes.

“Next time, if you choose to be in the front, be more present.” He scolded me before moving on. A blush rose over my cheeks with the stern words.

~~~~

My War and Peace class hadn’t necessarily gotten better but also not worse. My work excelled and I never got below a B. So one could imagine my disappointment when my latest paper on Torture Tactics in War got a C-.

Mr. Singers' hand stayed on my desk as he whispered into my ear.

“See me after class or during office hours today.” His deep voice rolled through my body, shooting straight in between my thighs.

Was it inappropriate to have a huge sexual crush on my teacher who was 20+ my senior? Absolutely. Did it stop me? No. Goosebumps rolled down my bare legs and under my pleated white skirt. I nodded my head quickly as he moved to the next student.

After mentally going through my schedule I decided it would be best to stop by during office hours later.

~~~

My fist lightly knocked on Mr. Singers' office door.

“Come in.” He rumbled.

I opened the door before stepping into the dark space. His dark mahogany desk was neat and organized with papers and notes. The room only being illuminated by a tall lamp in one corner and a smaller salt lamp in the other corner.

“You wanted to see me?” I ask as my hands pull at the end of my navy sweater.

“Ah, yes Mrs. Y/N I wanted to discuss your last paper. Sit.” He nodded to the chair across from him. My feet moved on their own accord to sit, as if aching to obey his every word.

“Yeah I saw I got a C- and I was pretty confused. Is there any way I could revise the paper? I planned on using the topic for my dissertation.” I pulled out the printed paper from my bag.

He watched my every movement very closely. His eyes raked my body from my white headband, over my navy blue sweater and white skirt, and down my bare legs that were currently crossed.

“Yes, the topic is very good however the research is not accurate which in turn made most of your paper inaccurate. I was very disappointed to have to give you a C. You are a bright girl Y/N. I know you have a bright future in history, so I do want to work with you so you can gain better research skills and a better understanding of the topic.” He spoke, moving his dark round glasses back onto his face.

The glasses gave him a nerdy Clark Kent look. The glasses made me want to rip off his shirt and ride him. My thighs squeezed a bit tighter at the warmth that pooled in the lowest parts of me. I nodded with understanding before he continued.

“I specialized in War Torture when I was in school. I interviewed real victims and studied the methods and techniques.” He paused pushing up his sleeves and leaning back before continuing. “In the least creepy way possible, I became a master of torture and its history. When I decide I want to know something, I won’t stop until I devour all I can about it.” He finished.

I think I was delirious because I swear that last phrase was an innuendo. My toes curled in my black boots.

“I understand, and I would love your help since you’re so knowledgeable about it. I double majored in History and Journalism so I could research. How would this work? Should I stay after class or come to office hours?” I asked with a tilt of my head, I felt my hair fall off of one shoulder as I did so.

“How about it this, every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday you stop by at let’s say 5:30? Right after office hours so that way we don’t take time from other students.” He asked with his eyebrows raised.

“That works for me! Is there anything I should bring sir?” I asked as I gathered my things.

“Maybe a notebook and your laptop for notes. Other than that we can wing it as we go.” He finished with a small smile and a shrug of one shoulder.

We said goodbyes before I walked out of his office, my thighs now slick in anticipation.

~~~

“Today I figured we could work on the actual technical details of the methods. It is important to understand the thought behind each movement.” Azriel spoke as I walked into his office.

We have been doing this mentorship for the last two months so far. It’s been going well, both of us flirting now and again but never quite crossing the line. He asked me to call him by his first name outside of class, and what a beautiful name he had. Azriel.

I felt his eyes take over my outfit choice for the day. With the warmer weather, my skirt and sweater combo has become more rare. Today I wore a tight white skirt with a cropped white tank top with a thin dark blue cardigan over it and some platform boots. even with my platforms Azriel still stood over me.

“You-you want me to torture you?” My breath hitched with the statement. He let out a small chuckle under his breath.

“No, I’m going to see if you can handle the most basic form of torture. If we can’t understand what torture feels like how can we accurately report it?” He said while moving close to me.

“So what are you going to do to me Mr.Singer?” I asked looking up into his eyes.

“Sensory deprivation. We start with sight, sit down.” He voices as he walks behind me and gently pushes on my shoulder to sit me down.

I took deep breaths as his large hands brought a thick strip of black fabric in front of my face. I felt his presence all too well as he placed the cloth over my eyes and tied it behind my head.

“They start with sensory tactics because there is nothing quite like the paranoia of not being able to see your capturers and what they are doing.” He spoke, his voice drawing quieter as if he moved across the room.

“For example,” He whispered in my ear, easing a small jump out of me. I hadn’t heard his come back, his footsteps silent.

“You have no idea what I’m about to do to you.” He whispered in my other ear, running his fingers over my shoulder. Goosebumps appeared in his wake.

“Can I remove my cardigan? It’s warm in here.” I asked before my fingers fumbled to find the bow holding the top of my cardigan closed. I felt a pair of hands wrap around my own small hands. His fingers slide over mine, quickly pulling the strings of the bow and slowly sliding my cardigan off.

“How are you feeling?” His voice rumbled thick with an accent as he took my cardigan out of my lap.

“I’m ok, it just feels like everything is heightened. Like I can feel everything around me, every breath, every touch. How is this torture?” I whispered with a shaky breath. I know his touch could be innocent but with the massive want between us, every touch feels like he’s about to fuck me.

“It isn’t yet, the next thing they would do would be take away your hearing, they would play sounds that would drive you insane. I’m not going to subject you to that however I am going to create certain sounds and I want you to identify the sounds and objects. Knowing how to use the heightened hearing to your advantage is something that could be very useful in a situation like this.” This time I heard his steps, like he purposefully made them louder.

I gave a nod, moving my hands under my thighs to keep from fidgeting. The first sound I heard sounded like glass. I waited another second before responding to be sure.

“Is it a glass? Like a cup?” I tilted my head towards the sound.

“Yes very good. Would you like some water Y/N?” I felt his approach to my front. I gave another quick nod, sticking out my hands for the cup.

“Ha, knowing you if I tried to hand you this glass you would spill it all over yourself.” He chuckled under his breath.

“You’re not wrong, but how else am I supposed to drink the water?” I lifted a curious brow even though he couldn’t see it.

“Tilt your head back.”

A simple command, yet hearing it set my body alight. I felt warmth gather low in my belly as I did what he asked. As I felt his fingers grasp my chin, pulling open my mouth, I felt that warmth seep out of me. I tried to cross my legs, not realizing how close he truly was.

“Is something wrong Y/N?” He asked with what sounded like knowingness in his voice. I tried to shake my head but couldn’t because of his grip.

“Use your words.” He spoke again. More heat seeped into my panties at his command.

“Nope, nothing's wrong.” My voice came out more breathless than intended.

He hummed before touching the cold rim of the glass to my bottom lip. I felt him tip back my head some more before pouring in the water.

“Would you like to know something Y/N?” He asked as he closed my mouth, allowing me to swallow with a gulp.

“What’s that Mr.Singer?” I asked, feeling his thumb coming up to wipe a small dribble of water that escaped my lips.

“You look divine like this, I can only imagine what you would look like if I could see your eyes.” He whispered as his hand moved from my jaw into my hair.

I sucked in a harsh breath before lifting my hands to remove the blindfold that prevents me from seeing him.

“Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. I didn’t say you could take it off just yet.” His voice was light and full of amusement. Then the entire room shifted as his hand fisted my hair and brought my face closer to his.

I felt his heated gaze take over my body as his breaths gained speed. Then I heard the most torturous sound leave his lips. A groan that sounded like I hit him. Then his heat was gone, all contact broken.

“I shouldn’t do this. You’re my student.” He spoke with anguish. I stood quickly, a little too quickly by the way I swayed. I felt his arms wrap around my waist, steadying me. One hand found the tie holding together the blindfold, I quickly undid it and let it fall to the floor.

My eyes raked over his chest as I adjusted to the light. Did he get hotter while I couldn’t see? His shirt was messy like he had been raking his hands over it. And when I tilted my head to meet his eyes, a whole head and a half taller than me, the hunger I found there was insatiable. And whatever he found my eyes must have changed something for him.

“Fuck it.” He whispered before pulling my head closer to him, smashing my lips into his. I melted as he kissed me.

He kissed me like he was a man dying of starvation and I was his only food source. The hand that was holding the back of my neck moved into my hair pulling it tightly. He ripped his mouth from mine with a gasp.

“Fuck.” He muttered with a new horse and raspy voice. There was a war in his eyes, a conflicting battle.

I decided to end that battle by slipping one of my fingers over his black button-up, slowly undoing each button. When his chest was fully revealed I took a second to marvel at the gorgeous tattoo that spanned his entire muscles chest before pressing a kiss into his pecks.

“Please, Mr.Singer?” I asked, looking up at him with doe eyes and using my softest voice. I saw the battle end and that hunger take over again.

“Jesus fuck, you will be the death of me, baby.” He grunted as his hands slid under my thighs and lifted me onto his desk.

A smile overtook my face as his hands gripped my ass. I gently tugged on the open shirt, asking for him to remove it. I almost let out a cry at the loss of his heat. He pulled his shirt off in one fluid motion, stepping back in between my spread legs.

Azriel slants his mouth over mine once again, his hands grazing over my bare thighs, reaching under my skirt. I let out a small moan when his fingers gripped my thighs.

“Do you like that Y/N?” He asked with a raised eyebrow before sliding his hands under my thighs and pulling me to the edge of the desk.

“God yes, Mr. Singer.” I moaned as he continued to manhandle me. His hands roamed from my thighs to my waist pulling my chest into his.

“Fuck I love the way you say my name. But I love your beautiful tits even more.” He grunted out before pulling my tank top down.

“You have no idea how many times you’ve distracted me in class. Prancing around in these tiny skirts without any tights and your tiny tops. The number of times I’m lecturing and all I can look at are your beautiful thighs.” He ground out as he brought his mouth to my nipples.

A wave of pleasure rolled through me as his tongue swirled my nipped. A loud moan fell out of my mouth when he lightly bit it. My hips bucked forward, almost causing me to fall off the desk but his hands were there, sliding me back onto the steady table.

“Careful there baby. Tell me what you need.” His breath whispered over my nipples with a shuttering sensation.

“You. I need you Azriel.” I whined, grinding my hips into the air. He fell to his knees, his hands pushing my skirt up.

“How do you need me? Do you need my tongue?” He asked as he licked a line from the base of my core to my clit, letting his tongue linger with an audible groan.

“Do you need my fingers?” His strong fingers followed his tongue, drawing a line through my wetness and swirling around my clit, causing me to gasp. My hand reached for my nipple as he paused, leaning back to look at me. After a beat of silence and direct eye contact, he said,

“Or do you need my cock?”

I’m pretty sure I almost orgasmed from those words alone, but I still replied.

“I don’t know, just please. Touch me. Anything, please.” I begged as my hips writhed against the desk. A wicked cruel look came into his eyes.

“Please what? If you’re gonna beg you might wanna address who you’re begging too.” An eyebrow hitched as he slowly brought the finger that hand wiped my wetness to his lips. Rubbing my arousal onto his lips.

“Please, Mr.Singer. I don’t care how but I need you to fuck me.” I whined out.

“Good girl.” My body came alive at the praise and the sight of him moving forward, face into my pussy.

His tongue licked another stripe before sucking on my clit over my panties. One of my hands fell to his hair, holding him into me as he continued to eat me like his life depended on it. His fingers slid up my thighs before grabbing the waistband of my panties and tugging them down. The cold air sent shivers down my spine as he hesitated.

“Mr.Singer?” I asked, looking down at where he sat with his eyes locked on my bare core.

“You are so fucking beautiful. I haven’t stopped thinking about this since the first day of class so I’m going to enjoy it,” he whispered in a daze. His hand forced my legs open even wider, completely exposing me to him.

His thick fingers traced every part of me as one of his hands fell to his hard erection in his pants. My gaze slid down to stare at the now bulging point in his black briefs. I took a moment to truly appreciate the sight before me.

One of the hottest men sitting on his knees, palm rubbing himself, his lips glistening with my arousal, hair a tossed mess from my fingers, and those damn tattoos that moved with each of his breaths. I nearly came at the sight.

I closed my legs, nimbly sliding onto the floor in front of him. My knees hit the hard floor as his gaze dragged over my bouncing tits. One of my hands found his belt and tugged, trying my best to convey what I wanted without words.

He stood quickly, one hand unbuckling his belt and pulling it off in a fast and clean motion. He took a second to wrap up the belt and place it on his desk, not once breaking eye contact. My thin hands slid up his legs, quickly unbuttoning his pants and pulling them down.

His cock sprang free with a small bounce. A small gasp left my mouth as I beheld the sight of his long and thick cock that has barbell piercings along the shaft. I rubbed my thumb over his head, collecting the small bit of pre-cum, and sucked it into my mouth.

Azriels head fell back with a groan, one that became even louder as one of my hands wrapped around his length. I let my lips softly kiss the head of his cock before sucking it into my mouth. I took a minute to warm up to his size before looking up at him.

The second I made eye contact his hand flew to my hair and forced me down on his cock. Tears welled in my eyes as I struggled to take it all.

“Come on, be a good girl and take my cock, pretty girl.” He ground out as his thumb from his free hand smudged my mascara with my tears.

I moaned around his cock and I forced myself up and down him. He was too long to fit in my mouth so with what I couldn’t swallow I used my hand. I pulled off of his cock with a pop, leaning forward and spitting on it before using two hands to jerk him. I moved his cock over my chest, savoring the professor's low groans and curses.

I felt two strong arms slid under my arms, stopping my movement. He picked me up until I was face to face with him and my feet were dangling. He started at me with so much heat to anyone else it might seem like anger. He slid his arms to my waist and pulled my body against him as I kissed me. On instinct, my legs wrapped around his waist, lining me up perfectly to feel the head of his cock push against me.

We both gasped at the contact. It didn’t take him long to walk us over to the wall by the chair, pushing me against it and thrusting his cock so he slid through my folds. A loud moan leaves my mouth when he hits my clit.

“I need you. I’m clean, please fuck me Azriel.” I begged.

A long and overdrawn “Fuck” left his bruised lips. One of his hands guided his cock to line up with my hole.

“I’m gonna fuck you, it’s not gonna be sweet, and it’s not going to be slow. It’ll be hard, and dirty, but fuck will it feel good. Is that ok baby?” He tormented me by nudging the very tip of him into me.

“Yes, god yes.” I threw my head against the wall. I would do anything to just put him inside me.

“Good, I want you to ride me, I wanna see those beautiful tits bounce as you struggle to take me in your little cunt.” He whispered into my ear before moving us so he was sitting on the chair and I was sitting on his thigh. I rubbed against his thigh for any friction I could get.

“Fuck you’re killing me.” His hands ran up and down my sides, as I readjusted myself so I was hovering over his cock.

One of my hands gripped his shaft helping me to sit on his cock. I did it slowly, letting myself feel each inch, feel the stretch of him. We both moaned at the sensation, and he didn’t give me much time to adjust before his hands were moving my hips.

I moved with his hands, grinding on his cock, watching his face contort in pleasure.

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt something as good as this. You are perfect.” He said as he tilted his head back. I started to move up and down on his shaft, every so often switching to grinding against him.

His head snapped back to lock me in the eye before his hands found my hips with a bruising grip, stopping my bouncing. He thrust his hips up, hard and fast.

“Oh fuck.” I screamed out as he continued to fuck me.

His arms enclosed my waist fully, holding me to his chest as my fingers raked the strong muscles.

“You’re so good, thank you sir.” I moaned and pulled my nails down so hard I left marks.

His replying hum was more than enough for me as he moved his lips to suck on the sensitive spot between my neck and ear.

I felt a tight tension run down my spine as my orgasm grew closer. He let me grab one of his hands, and I guided it around my throat, gently squeezing to signal what I wanted.

“You want me to choke you? Maybe you did pick the right field.” He muttered with a condescending laugh. But still, he obliged, squeezing the sides so I got that beautiful blood rush. His pace quickened as I tightened around him.

“Cum baby, milk my cock with your cunt. Be my good girl and cum.” He said before he licked a strip of my neck.

My orgasm shook my body with a force that I hadn’t felt before. Frat guys are notorious for not making girls cum. My cunt squeezed him as he jerked up into my cunt before pulling out. I whimper at the loss of contact before I felt ropes of his cum paint my stomach, just where it would be if he were inside me.

As I came down from my high I felt his fingers dragging up my stomach, collecting his cum onto his digits. He brought them to my mouth and pushed them into my lips. I took no time licking them clean of his cum and sucking them like they were his cock. I kept my most innocent eyes as I swirled my tongue around them and popped them out of my mouth.

“One day I want to see your mouth full of my cum. For now, I need to clean you up and get you back to my place.” He gently lifted me and sat me down on the couch before turning and getting a rag out of his office cabinet.

He sunk to his knees before me, gently wiping me clean and muttering praises. My mind was a puddle and my body was spent. He gently pulled my tank top back up and covered me with his suit jacket. We made sure the coast was clear before walking to his car and driving to his apartment where we spent the rest of the night fucking, cuddling, and getting to know each other better.

~~~

A/N: here it is!!!!!! Next up, chapt 4 of S&S!!!!!!!

Taglist: @littlelunatica @going-through-shit @annaaaaa88 @i-am-infinite @impossibelle

#azriel #acotar #elain archeron #azriel x oc #nesta archeron #feyre archeron #azriel x reader #sjmaas #class of 2013 #batboys #modern azriel #modern au #teacher crush #teacher x student #rough Azriel #dom!azriel

[mysterycitrus]

What do you think of people saying Tim should be Nightwing after Dick

controversial take — i think the only person who should be nightwing after dick is chris kent. robin is a mantle that was never supposed to be a mantle, and was transformed from dick’s family legacy to something else beyond his control. i don’t think his different aliases should be a testing ground for successive heroes. it’s boring. come up with some new ideas

tim has like….. terminal copycat syndrome. the only two original ideas he’s come up with are mr sarcastic and drake (derogatory). narratively, he desperately needs a win. leaving robin behind was an important part of his character arc, and now we’re stuck in the limbo of dc being too afraid to turn him eighteen, and too pussy shit to do anything remotely interesting. let him be rook! or cardinal! let him go to college and kiss boys! the yj generation growing up to create their own identities would be good storytelling and distinguish them from the titans

damian shouldn’t be nightwing either for the same reason as he shouldn’t be batman— an important part of his character is a rejection of fate and destiny, and the forging of one’s own path. he should become his own thing, his own person! we must shed the need to make every batman character step into the boots of another. he also shouldn’t be flamebird btw.

#does that make sense? idk #dick grayson #tim drake #nightwing #damian Wayne #dc comics #the ask and the answer

[supercap2319]

"You got me in a lot of trouble today." Y/N's voice was in wind as he stood on top of the Daily Planet. The spinning golden globe was shining with the lights from the night. A few feet away from Y/N, a man in a red cape and tight blue spandex suit hover in the air with a kind smile and eyebrows raised.

"And how did I do that?"

"That interview I did with you the other day? My boss loved it."

"I fail to see the bad. Isn't that a good thing?"

"Not when you step on Lois Lane's toes and take her spot in the Superman writing stories." Y/N said.

Superman's smile faltered. "Oh. I can see why you would think that's bad. But I'm sure Ms. Lane will be a mature person about this. After all, she has to give credit where credit is due."

Y/N snorts. "You've obviously never worked with her before. She's as we say in the bullpen.... 'the bitch on heels.'"

"I'm sure Ms. Lane isn't as bad as you think, Y/N."

"Oh, no? Sorry, Man of Steel, but outside of saving Lois, you don't know how she acts. Just the other day, she yelled at some poor sap because he ate the last bearclaw."

"I assume that was you?" Superman asked.

"Yes, but it wasn't my fault. I skipped breakfast that morning, and I needed something to eat."

"Why did you skip breakfast? It's the most important meal of the day." Superman grins.

Y/N rolled his eyes at Superman's spokesman's voice. "I was up late writing a story for my boss, and I overslept."

"You shouldn't push yourself too hard. It's not good."

"Says the guy who pushed a meteor from earth with his bare hands just last month."

"Believe me, Y/N. Even I have limits. We all do, but if you really are stressed out about this new opportunity. Maybe you should talk to someone in the workplace?" Superman suggested.

"I could ask Mr. Kent. He's always so helpful and full of good advice."

"That sounds like a great idea." Supeman smiled. "But if you'll excuse me, I must be getting home. It's left over Chinese food night."

"Well, i wouldn't want to keep you. Goodbye, Metropolis Marvel." Y/N teased.

Superman chuckled at his teasing. "Goodnight, Mr. L/N." He flew off into the night sky.

#x male reader #male reader insert #male x male #clark kent #clark kent x male reader #superman #Superman x male reader #henry cavill #tyler hoechlin

[mamawasatesttube]

“You haven’t laughed in a long time, and I guess I was staring ‘cause I forgot how that looked like.” with timkon maybe :) the sillies

The Batcave is draftier than Tim remembers it being.

He’s gotten used to his setup in his apartment building’s basement, and it’s a couple of degrees warmer over there. Probably because of the giant computer sans an entire cave to heat up.

Oh, well. That’s what capes are for. Particularly the ones made of blankets. And also thick, fuzzy socks. And fluffy pajamas stolen from Dick’s drawer (it’s not like he’s touched it in ages, since he’s off in New York, but Tim still hopes he’ll notice the theft and be indignant about it eventually).

Cold water drips from his hair onto the back of his neck, and he shivers. Scowls at the keyboard in front of him. He took such a nice, hot shower immediately after Kon got him back—getting tossed into the harbor in midwinter sucks—but the draftiness down here doesn’t care.

“Thanks for the tea, Alfred,” Kon says, somewhere behind him. “Are you sure you don’t want me to get the dishes? I really don’t mind—“

“Certainly not, young Mister Kent.” Alfred sounds almost fond. Kon’s got Ma Kent’s country manners drilled into his head; Tim has to admit it’s pretty cute. “You are a guest in this house. It would hardly be proper. Besides which, you’ve already helped me plenty by ensuring I don’t need to dig any bullets out of Master Timothy tonight.”

Tim resents that. He wasn’t in any danger of getting shot—okay, no more than usual, anyways. He was a lot more in danger from the guys who managed to chain a cinder block to his ankle and then threw him off a boat. However, since he’s a paragon of maturity and not an insufferable pedant, he elects to finish typing up his stupid mission summary while it’s still fresh in his mind, instead of arguing.

And then, the strangest thing happens:

Alfred squawks.

There’s a clatter of porcelain and a whoosh of air, and Tim whips around just in time to see Kon, holding Alfred’s tea tray in one hand, catch Krypto by the cape with the other.

“Dude!” Kon scolds. Krypto’s tail wags a mile a minute. “You can’t just do that outside the house! What is wrong with you? Oh, man, Mr. Alfred, I’m so sorry, he’s never done that to anyone but Pa before—”

…What did Krypto do?

Alfred scrubs the back of his neck with a daintily-folded pocket handkerchief, his face is filled with disgust. He examines the handkerchief, mustache quivering with indignance, and then sighs. “I do hope this is just regular slobber and not some sort of super-related variant."

Krypto barks once, excited, and prances in a circle around Kon’s hips, wrapping his cape around Kon until Kon sighs and lets go.

Tim—

Tim wheezes.

Krypto just silently snuck up and licked the back of Alfred’s neck?! And—and he used to do that to Pa Kent? Does he just have a thing for licking old guys on the neck or something? Or is he replacing one old guy with another, now that Pa’s dead? And he’s so pleased with himself now, sitting back on his haunches in midair like he expects a treat!

Tim laughs so hard his stomach hurts. Every time he thinks he’s gotten ahold of himself again, his mind just flashes back to the look of utter revulsion on Alfred’s face, and he loses it all over again.

By the time he catches his breath, Alfred has vanished, tray and all. He’s probably upstairs muttering derogatory things about dogs. Kon and Krypto, however, are still here; Krypto’s inspecting the crumbs on the floor where Alfred nearly dropped the tea tray, and Kon…

Kon is staring, the tenderest smile Tim has ever seen on his lips.

Oh. Um. Tim’s cheeks heat. “…What?” he huffs, folding his arms over his chest. “That was funny, okay!”

“Oh, yeah, no, I’m not disputing that,” Kon says absently. He’s still looking at Tim with that soft, adoring smile. “You just, uh… you haven’t laughed in a long time, and I guess I was staring ‘cause I forgot how that looked like.”

What.

Tim opens his mouth. Closes it again. Looks away, face burning. “Oh, come on. I’m sure I’ve laughed recently. Pretty sure I laughed after you fished me out of the harbor.”

“Yeah, but that was all, like, sarcastic and ‘ooh, look, I’m making jokes because I nearly just drowned in the smelliest harbor on the planet’, not ‘cuz anything was actually funny.”

Kon closes the distance between them and rests a hand fondly atop Tim’s head. His smile fades, slightly, and his hand slides down to cup Tim’s chin, tipping his face up. Blushing or not, Tim meets his gaze and holds it steadily, raising an eyebrow.

Kon just tilts his head ever so slightly, the same way Krypto does. He looks a little contemplative. That’s new; he never used to be nearly this introspective before. Dying and getting resurrected probably does something to a guy’s psyche, Tim supposes, but he wouldn’t know.

And then Kon asks, “Rob… Have you actuallylaughed at anything since I died?”

He may as well have just sucker-punched Tim in the gut. All the breath whooshes right out of Tim’s lungs. “I… I’m sure I have. I must have,” he says, and frowns. He can’t really think of anything that made him feel particularly light in the past year and then some, but… just because he can’t remember doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. Statistically, he had to have laughed properly at something, right?

Kon lets go of his chin to ruffle his hair. “Man,” he says, and sighs, dropping onto an invisible chair at Tim’s side. He’s close enough that their thighs press together; Kon’s a solid line of warmth against Tim’s body. He tosses his feet up onto an invisible footrest and folds his arms behind his head, leaning back. “You nearly done with whatever you needed to do here?”

“Nearly,” Tim says, glancing at the screen. “I think that’s enough details for anyone trying to pick up the smuggling case to use, if they wanna do something before I get to it, I guess.” Though he doubts anyone will. They’ve got their own cases to work on. He’ll get the weapons smugglers next time; they got lucky this time, that’s all.

“Cool.” Kon glances over to Krypto. Tim follows his gaze; Krypto’s inspecting the dinosaur now, floating up near one of its eyes. “Krypto, be careful with that!”

Krypto wags his tail in acknowledgment.

“I hope he doesn’t try to eat it,” Kon sighs. “He got ahold of a T-Rex bone this one time we went back in time—long story, it was that thing with Lori’s mom I called you about a few weeks back. But I just hope Krypto didn’t, like, acquire a taste for ‘em.”

Tim snorts. He hits save, then lets his head fall against Kon’s shoulder. “Would be kinda funny if he did, though.”

Kon snorts, too, draping his arm around Tim’s shoulders. Even through his sweatshirt and the thin blanket he’s using as a cape, Kon’s warmth radiates gently against his skin. The weight of his arm is… nice.

“Would be kinda funny,” Kon agrees, sighing fondly. “Anyways, you done with that thing?”

“Yeah.” Tim hums. “If you wanna go back to my place, we could do that, or if you’re busy, that’s chill, so…”

“Oh, actually, I’m kidnapping you,” Kon says breezily, and just like that, the familiar net of his TTK wraps around Tim’s body and scoops him up. “I’ve decided you need to laugh at something dumb some more, so we’re gonna go back to the farm and watch this one really weird anime about the composers that Bart showed me last week. Krypto! Come!”

What. “I didn’t even pack anything. Do I get a say in this?” Tim asks. Kon’s already heading for the exit with him in his arms, so he gets the feeling that he’s already got his answer, but still.

“No.” Kon grins. “Didn’t you hear me? I said this is a kidnapping. You’re already in PJs, and you can just borrow something to wear tomorrow. We got spare toiletries at the house. So it’s chill.”

Tim rolls his eyes. But, as they emerge outside under the starry night sky, he finds that he doesn’t really mind.

#timkon #lemonlimestar #woops this kinda got long. into that awkward length i hate (between 800-1.5k) skjdf #BUT. fun fact my dog did that to my dad once #obviously not by flying but like hes a big dog he just walked up behind where my dad was sitting #and i immediately was like. who is the funniest person for krypto to do that to and i think its alfred #tim #kon #alfred #krypto

[1970sgothfreak]

The forgotten Twin’s birthday

L“Sorry, can’t make dance tonight busy with the boys”

You looked away from your phone and around your room annoyed at the fact that your father blew off your father-daughter date to train with the boys (mainly Damian) you shrugged and placed the phone back onto your bed.

This wasn’t the first time he had done this, hell even the boys blew you off but at least Bruce had the common decency to at least text you and not have you embarrass yourself.

So you decided to just go into the library and try to read to calm your thoughts which is what you did, on your way there you bumped into Alfred who was making his way down the hallway, probably to deleive bandages to Bruce or check on Tim to see how much caffeine he had had.

“Oh, Madam Wayne my apologies I did not see you” the butler apologies with a slight bow, you felt your lip twich up into a slight smile at the butler. Alfred was the only one in the family who actually cared about you no matter how silly or embarrassing the situation was.

“No no it’s fine Alfred i wasn’t watching where I was going, do you need help with anything at the moment”

“No Madam Wayne, I do want to wish you a happy birthday tho, I can’t believe you are now Sixteen” he said with a small smile which made you pause…Alfred..actually remembered?. You looked up at him with a small smile and thanked him before heading towards the library to do some light reading.

~later that night~

You were in your room scrolling through Instagram only to see a bunch of sappy happy family’s and other people celebrating their own birthdays or the girls at your school having fun at the dance with their own dads.

Shrugging and closing the app you threw your phone to the foot of your bed before getting up and stretching deciding to head downstairs to see if your so called family was back home from patrolling the shit city you lived in.

As you walked down the stairs you could hear voices…singing?, you quickly yet quietly continued down the stairs and peeked around the corner only to see the others along with Jon singing happy birthday to Damian, he was looking down to hide the small blush of embarrassment that appeared on his cheeks.

You just stood there…watching them sing to him before you felt something wet your cheeks, you lifted your hands to your face to feel what the wetness was only to realise it was tears…you were crying but you didn’t feel sad. You turned around and went back upstairs not seeing the confused yet concerned look that Jon sent your way.

“Kent? What is wrong with you why do you look concerned?” Damian questioned looking at Jon with a slight eyebrow raise

Jon looked at Damian, then to the others and that’s when he realised…did…did no one else remember it was also your birthday?, is that why why you had teary eyes. He looked at the entire family confused.

“Did you know..?”

“Know what Jon?” Dick said raising his eyebrow with confusion, the fact that he didn’t know pissed Jon off a little.

“The fact that it’s also y/n’s birthday?” He said in a tone that sounded as it should have been obvious what the thing they forgotten was.

When he saw non of them react to his words he stood up and sighed, he then turned to Bruce.

“Mr Wayne I have a lot of respect for you but…what you did was shitty, she’s your daughter and you Damian” he said turning to the now shocked Damian as Jon was never known for cursing

“She is your twin! I would have expected to you to have at least had the common decency to say happy birthday to her…but she’s not your sister to you is she..” he trailed off and started walking to the staircase.

He paused, turned his head to the Men in the room with a slight glare in his eyes and said

“She was never your sister, nor was she ever your daughter..at least not in your eyes because clearly in your eyes she was nothing” before turning back to the stairs and heading up them.

~With you~

You were sitting on your bed, a book in one hand and a cup of tea in the other only taking small sips of the the beverage that Alfred had left you with a small birthday note and a plate of his delicious home made cookies. You looked up hearing a knock on your door, you placed your tea down and put your bookmark in before going up to your bedroom door and unlocking it.

You opened it to see…Jon?, he was standing there with that same adorable awkward smile that you had grown to love, aside from Alfred Jon was also there for you when needed him to be even if it meant waking him up at the crack of dawn to get burgers with you.

“Hey Jon..what’s up?”

“Happy birthday Y/N!” He yelled and pulled you into a hug smiling, you felt yourself tense up at first not knowing how to react…he..he remembered..?, you slowly raise your arms and hug him back burying your face into his neck and softly began to sob letting out all the pain and frustration you had been feeling that day.

He tightened his grip onto you slowing rubbing your back with one hand while the other held onto your waist, he knew that sometimes they family would ignore you but to this extent..? He sighed and continued to rub your back letting you sob until he felt you go limp, he looked down and saw you had passed out.

He stared down at your face admiring your features, you had a slight redness to your eyes but he still thought you looked beautiful, he kept staring until his gaze fell to your soft lips slightly parted because of your staggered breathing.

“No…no stop it Jon she’s your best friend”

he scolded himself in his mind but…he couldn’t stop looking at your face and gently placed a soft kiss upon your forehead before bringing you to bed and laying down with you, he tensed up feeling someone grab onto his arm only to look down and see you cuddled up to his arm with a small soft smile in your sleep.

~back downstairs~

No one’s pov: (IK this is probably annoying but I can’t do personal pov’s yet lol)

The boys sat at the table saying nothing and just continued to stare at the staircase when Jon had previously stood and scolded them, had they really forgotten that it was also your birthday? No they couldn’t have…could they?

“I see you boys finally understood why Miss Wayne has been upset recently” Alfred’s voice spoke from the entrance way to the kitchen, no one looked at him simply confirming his statement.

“She…we…I-I..it’s not” Dick stuttered trying to come up with an excuse but stopped when he realised that they had indeed forgotten your birthday and they felt horrible. Damian stared at the cake feeling angry but not at you for once…he felt it at himself, he remembered the promise he had made to you…the promise to make sure he protected you and was an actual brother to you but instead he did nothing, he simply trained with Bruce and the boys never inviting you.

“Wait…her birthdays today and she’s Damian’s twin meaning she’s sixteen…didn’t she invite us to her to her play yesterday…?” Jason spoke up making them all realise…when was the last time any of them actually acknowledge you and that’s when they realise..

They never went to the play

Dick didn’t show you some of his old tricks like you had begged him to

Tim hadn’t come and watched Game of Thrones with you after training like he promised

Jason didn’t go to your lunch date that you set up

Damian…he couldn’t remember the last he was with you in this house doing something together like normal twins

And…

And Bruce realises..he had cancelled his plans of going to the father daughter dance at your school with you. None of them actually spent time with you since you arrived only focusing on each other.

They were horrible brothers and they were finally realising it which also made them realise that you might never forgive them and they couldn’t have it so they made a silent promised to make sure that tomorrow was going to be the best make up birthday ever.

#batfam angst #batsis reader #30/90 #jon kent x reader #platonic #bruce wayne x daughter!reader #batfam x batsis #The forgotten Twin’s birthday

[benedictscanvas]

pick me up at seven - roy kent x reader

pairing: roy kent x fem!reader

word count: 3.1k (they won't all be this long i don't think!!)

warnings: language of course, and this is a little steamy but with no actual smut. my favourite genre HA

request: I can’t find any good Roy fics until your recent one and I’m dying for more 😭 Anyway you could write something else for him? Maybe they’re at a bar and he gets pissed when he sees Jamie flirting w her? (Not a pre established relationship) - @kashee-h

a/n: your wish is my demand!! i'm so happy you enjoyed the first roy fic of what i hope are many to come. this one totally got away from me, i loved writing it so so much, thanks for a request that I really got to make my own! <3

---

Roy is the one who’s invited you here. Roy is the one who trekked over to your office at the end of the working day and told you that everyone was going out that evening. Roy is the one who suggested you come, even when you seemed reluctant to join in on what appeared to be an evening for just the players and the coaches. Roy is the one who convinced you that it would be fun, that he’d make sure of it.

All of this is making it very hard for Roy to accept that you are currently sat in a corner booth with someone else. The fact that the person you seemed to be having such an in depth conversation with was Jamie fucking Tartt was the icing on a very shit cake.

He knew he could be having a better night than just sitting on a barstool trying not to watch the two of you, especially when Ted and Beard arrived to get the next round and he didn’t even acknowledge them. They’d hired out a private room, so it was filled with people he generally tolerated the company, some he’d even go as far as to say that he liked. None of that was registering, however. 

Jamie leans in when you can’t hear something he’s said and he watches you nod solemnly, duck your head to stare at the floor as if flustered, and he wants to walk right out that door and never come back. Maybe he could get a job at Chelsea, or something.

“Now, what’s wrong, Jeremy Strong?” Ted asks, and Roy has to bite back a ‘fuck off’ so hard he wonders if his lip is bleeding, “You look just about ready to start wreckin’ the place.”

Out of the corner of Roy’s eye, he sees Beard lean in to whisper in Ted’s ear and points over at you. Ted looks surprised. Roy does not want to deal with this.

“You’re telling’ me our very own Mr Kent has his eyes on our very own Miss Y/L/N? Well, that’s just great! She’s sweet as anythin’, good for you, Roy.”

“She’s sweet on Jamie fucking Tartt, more like,” he says, even though he knows he’s being so fucking unfair. He hates it about himself. He knows how hard he’s worked on these feelings, on frustration and anger and jealousy, knows that a few years ago he’d be getting ready to fight Jamie down an alley further through tonight. Now he’s done that work, however, he can recognise the overriding feeling that he’s actually just hurt and that’s so much worse. It’s much easier to be jealous than upset.

“Does this call for an impromptu meeting of the Diamond Dogs?” Ted asks brightly and Roy is only able to stop him after his second howl. Higgins has looked over briefly but Beard signals him to stay where he is.

“Fuck no,” Roy blurts out, then reconsiders. Maybe he could at least talk to Ted, “I just- I was going to tell her. Tonight.”

“Tell her what?” Ted’s doing that thing where he bats his eyelashes like he’s in some sort of rom-com. Beard’s got his head resting in his hand, looking similarly up at Roy. They’re insufferable. 

“That I fucking like her, okay? Take those fucking looks off your faces.”

Ted and Beard scramble to look normal but come up short. Ted’s got the awful kind of shit-eating grin on his face that he gets when he sees Sam and Jamie hugging or watches Isaac doing his handshakes with everyone before a game.

“So, you’ve been spending time together? Or are you telling her out of the blue?” Beard pipes up.

Roy thinks that over. You’ve been spending a lot of time together actually. More than anyone at the club would probably even believe. He slips away to your office to eat lunch under the guise of needing a break from the American Circus downstairs. You text him when you’ve brought in ice cream because you know he’ll never say no to ice cream. You’ve met Phoebe. That one was by accident in the park, but you stuck around for four fucking hours and nobody made you.

Still, he wonders whether it would be completely shocking to you or whether you’ve been waiting for him to make a proper move. You’re incredibly difficult to read alongside being so stupidly pretty that sometimes he wants to swear less around you. He doesn’t manage it, of course, but he thinks it.

“Yes, we’ve spent time together. No, I don’t know what that means. Probably doesn’t mean shit to her, not that it would be her fault if she doesn't.”

Ted and Beard tilt their heads simultaneously at him and he wishes he could bash their heads together for a moment.

“But it means somethin’ to you, hey coach? I don’t think Miss Y/N sittin’ with Jamie should stop you from tellin' her how you feel about ‘er, hey coach?”

Roy’s lost track of which coach Ted is even talking to, but Beard chimes in.

“Surely her spending time with Jamie should be all the more incentive to tell her. Find out how she feels. Get that crushing disappointment out of the way now. It’s only downhill from here.”

Roy raises a brow at him as Ted gives him a look. Beard sighs, then picks up his drink and seems to disappear. Ted leans into Roy.

“Him and Jane are on a break again, I’m sorry. Look I’m goin’ to have to go find him but he was right, until he wasn’t. Go get ‘er, Ross Gellar!”

And with that, Ted’s gone too, weaving his way through crowds of people until he’s lost to them. When Roy glances back in your direction, Jamie’s got Colin and Isaac beside him instead and you’re nowhere to be found. He sighs and stands from his barstool, making his way to the exit. Maybe he’d think about what Ted and Beard had said tomorrow: for now, he just wanted to go home.

Except for the fact that when he finally managed to push his way outside to breathe in some fresh air, he found you. Leaning against the wall of the club, with definite tears in your eyes, even under the dim street lamp light. He was going to murder Jamie Tartt, slowly, with rope and paint and suffering involved.

But he knew to take a slightly softer approach with you. If at all possible.

“Hey,” he says quietly, trying not to startle you. You're quick to look up at him, startled anyway, and he grits his teeth as he asks, “Are you alright?”

He doesn’t make any comment about what the fuck Jamie had done to you. Doesn’t think it would be received all that well. Again, he’s biting the inside of his lip harder than ever.

“Yes! Oh god, yes, sorry,” you’re blinking furiously. He admires your resolve when the nearly teary face is quickly replaced by that bright smile that makes him weaker in the knees than he already is, “Fuck, sorry. I’m all good. I’m not sure this is my scene, I was just going to call a taxi.”

There’s an opening. He’ll be damned if he’s not taking it, even though confessing anything is the furthest idea from his mind - he’s much more focused on making sure you’re okay and nobody’s done anything to hurt you. If they have, he's already resigned to a short stint in jail if necessary.

“Do you want to walk?”

“Uh, I mean not really. It’s quite late, so…”

“With me, I mean,” he quickly clarified, wanting to bash his head against the brick wall, “I could walk you home, if you wanted. Or not. That’s fine too.”

“Oh, right,” you’re looking down at your feet as you contemplate it, “That would be nice, if you’re sure. Thank you.”

“It’s nothing,” he insists, falling into step beside you as you begin to walk. He wants to give you his jacket and maybe his shirt too with the way you’re shivering, but he can’t bring himself to do it. He’s a fucking coward, but he will get to the bottom of what’s the matter if its the last thing he does, “You gonna tell me what’s wrong now?”

You huff out a frustrated sigh, at him, at yourself, he isn’t sure.

“I made a fucking fool of myself tonight,” you say eventually, and he can’t even imagine you doing that, “I thought…god, it doesn’t matter what I thought. Everything just feels worse when its…1:30 in the morning, don’t you think?”

You’d lifted his hand to check his watch before you said the time. Again, he wanted to hold on, but he let you drop his hand and it just went limp.

“It fucking does, yeah. Don’t think you could make a fucking fool of yourself if you tried though. Not around us lot.”

Your family, he heard Ted’s voice in his head. He was not fucking saying that. To his surprise, you let out a loud bark of a laugh at his words and he was staring at the side of your face as you spoke out into the dark air.

“I thought you were coming to pick me up tonight, you know?” you began, and his heart drops to his shoes. You’re upset about him?

“What?”

“Something you said earlier, when you asked me to come. You asked where I lived, then told me it would be a twenty minute walk to get there. Then you said ‘see you at seven’.”

He could have stopped walking. He had said that, but he was just trying to help you plan out your timings for the evening - you’d mentioned to him once that you were known for having some time blindness when you were getting ready for things. Of course he should have realised how fucking stupid that was, how much that sounded like he would come and walk with you.

He would have fucking loved to walk with you.

“Fuck!” he exclaimed, far too loudly for the quiet night that surrounded you. You carried on undeterred, shaking your head. He could see your frustration was at yourself now, and he hated himself even more than he had earlier.

“My fault for assuming, I know. But that’s why I was so late. And when I arrived, trying talk myself into not feeling like a twat, you were already over with Dani and Isaac and Bumbercatch, clearly never intending to come pick me up. Which, why would you, of course. I just…felt shit. Jamie tried to help, bless him, but I just wanted to go home, honestly.”

Roy is the biggest idiot on the planet. He wants to go back into the club and hug Jamie for looking after you, then ask him to punch him in the face. Roy could punch something, anything right now, but he just grits his teeth.

“I’m-” he grunts when his voice comes out all strangled, “I’m really fucking sorry, Y/N. I’m the fucking twat. I was asking where you lived and that to help you with that fucking time blindness thing you told me about. Should’ve known how it sounded though. Fucking idiot.”

He directed the last comment at himself, kicking a stone he’d found on the pavement. He kept his eyes firmly trained on his shoes as the two of you continued walking, now at a significantly slower pace. Your eyes were burning a hole in the side of his face.

There was a silence that stretched on as you stared at him, until-

“Fucking hell,” you groaned, “That’s so fucking sweet. You’re the worst.”

He doesn’t know if he can remember being called sweet before. Phoebe was often excessively complimentary of him in a way that made him uncomfortable, but sweet had never come up. He didn’t feel sweet.

“I am the worst,” he grunted, spiralling, “Making you feel so shit. Ruining your fucking night. I was the one who convinced you in the first place and now you’ve had a shit fucking time and I’m the worst.”

He’s a little out of breath and loud again by the end of his rant. The two of you have stopped walking. You kick the toe of your heel against his shoe, placating.

“No, you’re the worst ‘cause you keep giving me all this hope. I fucking hate hope, no matter what Ted says,” you chuckle to yourself, and he’s not sure what you’re saying but he’s peering into your now smiling expression as he tries to work it out, “Look, do you like me or not? You’re a good guy Roy and either way, I’m grateful that you’re walking me home. I just think if I ask, maybe I can just feel like a twat for the night and get it over with by tomorrow.”

“Do I…like you?”

He sounds thick. He feels thick. Feels like his mouth is full of honey that his tongue is having to wade through to even speak to you. It’s stuck to the bottom of his mouth, heavy.

“Yeah. As in, do you just enjoy eating lunch with me or do you ever look at me and just want to kiss me? Cause I do that all the fucking time, Roy, but I can’t be arsed to dance around it anymore.”

You look really tired as you stare up at him, but he feels more energised than ever. You’ve both just established that he’s the absolute worst, and yet here he is, with everything he could’ve wanted right in front of him. You, looking fucking gorgeous and looking at him like that? Even getting a job at Chelsea wouldn’t help him against you - he was gone.

There’s a smirk on his face that he can’t bite back as he takes your face in both his hands and revels in the gasp he can pull from you. He should have known you’d be the first to say something. You weren’t the coward he was.

“Let’s not fuck about then, yeah?”

Low and breathy. You respond with a nod so eager that he’s practically grinning when he pulls you in. It’s quickly replaced by a hunger he’s been keeping at bay, allowing his hands to slide into your hair as he deepens the kiss almost as soon as it’s started. He can feel your hands clutching at the lapels on his jacket, but he’s more excited when you throw your arms around his neck instead, tugging on the hair at the base of his head.

He growls and you actually whimper. It’s like he’s been set on fucking fire. Like he’s been struck by lightning.

When he pulls away for air, you stay close, peppering kisses along the scruff of his jaw, up the side of his face and back down again. He holds you to him tightly around your waist and feels wanted. He’s wanted you for so long, but to be wanted in return, so openly, it’s both hot and meaningful. He’s not sure anyone’s ever told him they liked him before. Most models he’d dated were pretty sold on the idea that he had to make all the moves.

Still, when you begin trailing kisses down his neck and there’s a hand on the top button of his shirt, he has enough sense about him to stop you. Even if he really doesn’t want to.

“I don’t know what street this is,” he breathes out, low voice little more than a rumble, “But maybe we don't give your neighbours a fucking show.”

You look thoroughly kissed when you look back at him, but he doesn’t think it’ll ever be enough. He leans in to kiss you once more to punctuate his sentence, watching as you duck your head, all shy, even though your arms are still around him. He knows now that when you ducked your head with Jamie, you were embarrassed. This is you properly flustered and it’s one of his favourite looks on you.

“Good call, yeah. Okay. I’m- I’m just around this corner, I think.”

“You think?”

“Shut up, you,” you whack him lightly on the shoulder, as the two of you resume walking, “Think you can make it all the way there?”

“I’d carry you if my knee wasn’t fucked,” he admits, watching you with a lopsided smile, “Really fucking like you, by the way. If that wasn’t proof. Thought you should hear me fucking say it.”

You close your eyes in a little half laugh - giddy, he thinks. 

“Well, I did wonder. We’ve spent a lot of time together the last few weeks for someone who doesn’t like spending time with people.”

“Your first clue,” he agrees, taking your hand with pride now as the two of you keep walking, turning the corner towards your house. The pace is a lot quicker than it was before. He hopes he knows why, “I’ll be less of a fucking idiot now. Promise.”

“Eh, don’t worry,” you shrug, letting go of his hand only to thread your arm through his and take hold of his hand again, even tighter, “Nothing sexier than fucking idiots. I like my men with no thoughts behind their eyes.”

He properly laughs at that, head tilted back, feeling your head against his arm as you laugh with him. You slow down, gesturing left. Your house. The two of you walk down the drive until you’re at the door, face to face again and Roy is having a small internal battle.

“Look, I know you said no show for the neighbours,” you begin, almost nervously, “But does that mean a…private show is totally off the table too?”

He watches you picking at your nails. Can’t help it. He pulls you in for another breathless kiss, just to watch you come alive again, confident and fucking into him, however much of a miracle it seems. You pull away this time, clearly keen for an answer, but he groans.

“Tryin’ to be a fucking gentleman, here. Why don’t we do dinner tomorrow? Proper date. And I’ll fucking pick you up.”

You giggle. Still, there’s a glint in your eyes, as you sigh melodramatically.

“That does sound nice. Only thing is, there could be an intruder in here, you know? So, and I’ll only ask once more and then I promise I’ll let you go if you say no, but maybe you should walk me to my bedroom? To make sure I’m safe, you know? And then you can pay for my breakfast in the morning like a good old fashioned gentleman, if you want.”

You’re looking up at him, all hopeful again. His resolve is dwindling. You spin your keys around one finger and its a simple gesture, but it’s the final straw.

“I’m paying for your fucking lunch too,” he growls, diving into you once again. He’s beside himself when he hears you mutter a faint ‘thank fuck’ as you fumble to unlock the door and all but drag him inside.

---

if you've read this far, i fucking love you, you beautiful sunflower <3 requests open for this angry man and his favourite jamie tartt if you're interested!!

#roy kent x reader #roy kent #ted lasso #ted lasso x reader #roy kent fanfiction #roy kent imagine #roy kent x you

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

It's Flawless, Really Something

Roy Kent x Teacher!Reader

Warnings: Language, flirting, a pervy parent, non-academic activities in the classroom

2.6k words

Teach Me Tonight Masterlist

“Did you save me that biscuit?”

Roy Kent leaned forward, hands on the plastic table, and smiled at you. His eyes were bright, and his black leather jacket hugged him deliciously; he was perfect, you thought. Stupidly, ridiculously, wonderfully perfect.

“Only if you’ve got exact change,” you managed to joke, holding out your outstretched hand.

Roy looked surprised at your teasing reply. Surprised, but also pleased. After your talk with Leanne, you’d made the terrifying decision that you were going to flirt with Roy Kent. You liked him, you knew that much. He clearly liked you, at least a little. And if he was ever going to ask him out, he, like any other man, needed a little encouragement.

With a content chuckle, the coach reached into his pocket and pulled out a couple of quid, definitely more than the cost of one chocolate chip cookie. He pressed the money into your hand, curling your fingers into a fist as his warm grip lingered.

Despite your immediately wavering bravery, you held his gaze, not caring that he could probably see the way you gulped at his touch. “That’s a little too much, Coach,” you hummed.

“Consider the rest a tip,” he answered, giving your hand a squeeze before letting go. “For exemplary service.” He tilted his head at you. “How long’re you here for? Do they let you take a break, or do I need to call the union?”

“Maybe another half hour and then I’m pretty much done.” You smiled, not caring that there were students, and parents, and other teachers flittering around. “Why? You want to buy me a lemonade or something?”

He shrugged and picked up a chocolate chip cookie. “Or something,” he echoed with a wink. “Have fun.”

You watched unabashedly as he walked away, to where his sister and Phoebe were waiting for him. He handed the cookie to a bouncy Phoebe, while his sister waggled her eyebrows at him. Roy gave his sister a shove before glancing back at you, his smile widening when he caught you staring.

As you were wondering whether Leanne would kill you if you left her alone, Mrs. Seling rushed over mischief all over her face.

“Teresa’s dog got sick,” she said in place of a greeting. “We need someone in the dunk tank, just for twenty minutes until it’s Mrs. Halpern’s turn. Can you do it?”

Shit. The damn dunk tank. Every year, teachers brokered deals and offered bribes to avoid having a shift on the stupid thing, treating it like the torture chamber it was. The water was gross and weirdly warm. The air was freezing cold when you were soaked. Students lined up in droves to try to dunk their teacher into the water, and, worse, dads lined up to see the results.

Of course, Lee chose that moment to absolutely betray you and busy herself with selling brownies to a student’s grandmother, leaving you only able to smile weakly at Karen and mumble, “I guess.”

So, there you sat, hating the fact that you’d chosen today to wear a light-colored shirt to go with your jeans, but thankful for the fact that your students had terrible aim. Phoebe O’Sullivan stood among the gaggle of children who were desperate to see you fall into the tub of water that you tried not to think too hard about; her uncle stood not far, eyebrows raised in amusement, trying not to think too hard about how you’d look once you got dunked.

Normally, Roy thought of you as cute, pretty, adorable. An absolute distraction. But the thought of you in a soaked shirt, material clinging to your body… fuck, he needed to get his thoughts under control. After all, he hadn’t asked you out yet, hadn’t kissed you yet. But fucking hell, his mind was racing as he tried not to turn into a teenage boy with fantasies of a beautiful teacher in a wet t-shirt.

“Uncle Roy, you should try!”

Phoebe’s little voice dragged him out of his increasingly adult thoughts. “Hmm?” He stared at the ball in his niece’s outstretched hand, quickly comprehending what she’d just said. “Oh. Sure.”

He stepped up after watching one of Phoebe’s classmates throw a very wild pitch. Your eyes found his, carrying a mixture of amusement and embarrassment. He knew he could hit that stupid red target; he was a retired athlete, after all. A flick of his wrist, and you’d be soaked from head to toe.

But he saw the way Jack Price’s dad was leering at you, the way that fucker always did when his wife wasn’t around. And he felt that tightness in his chest again, the tightness he’d had that day at the zoo when he watched that skeeze put his hand on your shoulder. No way was Roy going to let slime see his personal fantasy.

Besides, you’d probably appreciate Roy not dunking you, right? It’d be rather gentlemanly. And you seemed like the type that wanted a gentleman. And Roy wanted to be what you wanted.

So, he gently tossed the ball, shrugging at you when it hit the backboard instead of the target.

“Thank you,” you mouthed, warming away that tightness in his chest. The relief and gratitude on your face was worth looking like he couldn’t throw a damn ball, as well as the fifty pence the ball had cost.

As he pondered how he could leverage his chivalrous gesture to finally ask you on a date, someone tapped his shoulder.

Jack Price’s dad smiled at him, that stupid, sharkish smile, tossing a ball up and down. “Guess you’re not as good at pitching as kicking, hmm?” he joked, as if they were the kind of people who joked with each other. “Watch and learn.”

Your gasp was sharp as you felt the bench disappear from under you and were instantly underwater. Dammit. You’d almost made it the full twenty minutes dry as a bone. Fucking Mr. Price and his fucking cricket hobby. You came back up rapidly, cheeks burning as the kids cheered on the sight of seeing their beloved teacher soaked.

To add insult to injury, Mrs. Halpern stood beside the dunk tank, ready to take your place. You clambered out of the dunk tank, shivering in the approaching evening air. All you wanted to do now was go home, shower, and put on your warmest pajamas. Never mind letting Roy Kent buy you a lemonade. You were cold, wet, and, admittedly, a little embarrassed by the way your shirt clung to your skin.

But you grabbed your things and put on that fake smile for your students who giggled over your misfortune and tried to make a speedy exit. Unfortunately, Mr. Price slowed down your plans.

“No hard feelings, right?” he hummed, eyes everywhere but your face. “It’s for a good cause, after all.”

Instinctively, you crossed your arms, attempting to hide as much as you could. “Of course,” you murmured, making a pathetic attempt to sidestep him.

He blocked your path, eyeing your figure. “Need help with those wet clothes?” he whispered as his hand landed on your shoulder, the way it had at the zoo.

“Oi.”

As you shrugged off Mr. Price’s hand, Roy Kent approached, peeling off his leather jacket. “You must be fucking cold,” he mumbled. Pointedly ignoring Jack’s dad, he wrapped the jacket around your shoulders. “How about that lemonade?”

“Thanks,” you sighed as Mr. Price scampered away. “But I should probably head home. Need a shower after being in that thing.” As you spoke, you did your best to ignore the feeling of Roy Kent’s jacket hugging you, enveloping you in the scent of whatever wonderful cologne he was wearing, a cologne he’d picked out in the hopes of bumping into you today.

“Sorry the jacket’s not more comfortable,” he grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. “But you can just give it back to me Monday. Keep you warm on your way home.”

You shook your head. “I have a sweatshirt in my classroom. I can just throw that on.” Seeing the slight disappointment in his brown eyes, you swayed forward slightly, batting your eyes at him- something you weren’t sure you’d ever done. “Walk me to my classroom?”

There was that smile. That fucking smile, the one that was bright enough to make you forget Roy Kent’s infamous rage, the perfect smile you wanted to kiss right off his bearded face. He kept on smiling as the two of you slipped away from the fall festival.

He liked seeing you in his jacket. It was just big enough to look cozy wrapped around your shoulders, and he cherished the way you tugged it tightly around yourself. Admittedly, he was a big jealous of the way his jacket got to be wrapped around you. He wondered if it would smell like you when he got it back; probably like the dunk tank water, unfortunately. Maybe he could offer it to you again sometime. Maybe even after a date.

You quickly unlocked your classroom and led Roy in, trying not to flinch when you heard the door close, silencing the already distant sounds of the festival. Neither of you bothered with the lights, instead letting the last of the sun softly illuminate the classroom. Roy followed you to your desk, wondering if you wanted him to leave or stay, and hoping beyond hope that it was the latter.

“Oh, here.” You slipped off his jacket and handed it to him. “Thanks again, Coach. Very chivalrous of you.” Your smile was probably the most confident he’d seen, playful and teasing. It was probably his favorite smile.

“Any fucking time,” he breathed. He was fighting so fucking hard not to stare at you. He knew he wasn’t a married dad like Mr. Price or the others, and he was pretty sure you liked the way he stared at you- but still. He didn’t want to be grouped with them, a creep who ogled you like a piece of meat.

But fuck, you were making it hard. That shirt clung to you like it wanted you even more than Roy did, flaunting the body you usually covered with cute dresses and jean jackets- a body Roy really liked. You pulled your dripping hair up in a clip you found on your desk, exposing a neck that Roy was sure would look great with a few marks on it. And you gazed up at him with wide eyes and parted lips, as if you were going to ask him a question.

He cleared his throat. “You headin’ home after you grab your sweater?”

You nodded absently. “Probably.” You took a tiny step back, hitting the edge of your desk. “You sticking around?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m with, uh, my sister and Pheebs.” Despite his best efforts, his eyes wandered. Fuck. “Sorry,” he muttered, wincing when he realized how obvious it was; he might as well be drooling.

You cocked your head at him. “For what?”

He shook his head, ears burning with shame and, if he was being really honest, desire. “For fucking…. Staring.” He made himself look you in the eye, which was somehow worse. “’m sorry.”

To his surprise, you smiled. “Don’t be. I… I like it when you stare.”

“Do you?” His voice was quiet, as if he thought being any louder would scare you off. “Why?”

You shrugged and hopped up onto your desk. “Because it’s you,” you said simply. Feeling dizzy from the way Roy looked at you, you reached out and touched his hand, grazing his skin with the tip of your finger. “You’re… you’re the kind of guy a girl likes to have staring.”

There it was. Since the first day of school, when he saw you in your little white sneakers and jean jacket, he’d been waiting for a clear sign that you were just as infatuated as he felt. And now, in your dark classroom, with your eyebrows raised and your hand on his and your lip caught between your teeth, Roy finally had his fucking sign.

He took a step forward and settled himself between your knees. Watching you carefully, he put his hands on your waist, digging his fingers into the soaking material of your shirt. You tilted your face towards him, finally giving him permission to do the one thing he’d been desperate to do since the moment you met.

Your lips were soft, even softer than Roy had let himself imagine. He had often wondered what kind of ChapStick he watched you apply on warm afternoons; cherry, he realized. Fucking cherry. For the rest of his life, he knew, whenever he tasted cherry, he’d be thrown back to this moment, kissing the pretty teacher in her classroom, amazed that someone so sweet would kiss someone so fucking miserable.

And kiss him you did. You brought your hands to the back of his head, pressing your chest flush against his. His hands fisted at your shirt, tugging it up a little so his fingertips could brush over your soft skin, still wet from the dunk tank, but quickly heating up as you deepened the kiss. Roy let you take the lead; he waited until your lips parted to open his own mouth, and your tongue was the first one to tentatively flick against his.  

He groaned softly into your mouth and let one hand cup your face, thumb caressing your heated cheek. He could get used to this, Roy thought. Used to your cherry-flavored kisses and hands in his hair and body pressed against his, and used to your sweet smiles and shy giggles and bright eyes. He wondered briefly what other things he could look forward to getting used to.

“We,” you huffed into the kiss. “We should go before-” Your breath hitched as Roy’s mouth wandered to your jaw. “-before someone sees us.”

He sighed against your skin. You were right. Roy knew you were fucking right. This was a school. You were in your classroom. As exciting and tempting as it was to keep going, he needed to respect that. After harshly pressing his lips to yours one more time, he pulled back.

“Let me take you out,” he all but begged. “On a fucking proper date.”

Your smile was brilliant. “That would be lovely, Coach.”

He let out a breathy chuckle, the hand on your waist giving you a gentle squeeze. “I think you can call me Roy now.”

“Right.” You giggled, that adorable bashfulness returning, somehow even more endearing now. “That would be lovely, Roy.”

Fucking hell, his name sounded good coming out of your mouth. It sounded so good he couldn’t help pulling you in for another kiss, a slow, tender one.

“Any chance you’re free tonight?” he breathed.

You nodded. “I just need to go home. Shower away the dunk tank.”

Roy did his best not to let his mind wander to that shower. “Right. Right.” He cleared his throat. “And I’ve got to drop my sister and Phoebe at home. Think I could come around at eight?” He kissed your jaw. “We could go get a drink. I can stare at you some more.”

“Sounds perfect.” With a teasing shove to Roy’s chest, you hopped down from the desk and grabbed your sweatshirt from where it hung over your chair, quickly pulling it over your head.

The two of you ambled out of the classroom wearing matching grins and blushes. It was a good thing your classroom was clear across campus from the festival, because it was painfully obvious that the two of you had just been pawing at each other.

“Be ready at eight,” Roy hummed, intertwining his fingers with yours. “And get ready to be stared at all night.”

“Looking forward to it.” You leaned forward and kissed his lips quickly. “See you in a bit, Coach.”

Roy growled at you, a playful, sexy sound.

Your laugh warmed his chest. “Roy,” you corrected as you squeezed his hand. “See you in a bit Roy.”

Taglist:@infinetlyforgotten @gothicwidowsworld@taytaylala12@amieinghigh@klaine-92@misshall14@rosesheerio@goose-101@gee72sstuff@alainabooks143@lwritesstuff@hayden-maximoff@optimisticsandwichgladiator@veryprairieberry@scott-mccall-could-lift-mjolnir@jaymum@shakespeareanwannabe@axelsagewrites@kidd3ath@brainscabs@v-nest@just35yrsandtrying@idk1234567@ohwauwdoritos@wearethecanadians@deliriousfangirl61@laukora1030@its-a-show-stoppin-number@blue-bujo@ohwauwdoritos@seatbacksandtraytables@amieinghigh@libsybum@dark-academia-slut@tweasley20@missemilygilmore@luvr-bunnyy @larascorneroftheworld @sarahjoestewy-blog @chewymoustachio

#roy kent teach me tonight #roy kent x teacher!reader #he's here he's there he's every fucking where #roy kent #roy kent x reader #roy kent fanfic #roy kent fic #roy kent fanfiction #roy kent fluff #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fic #ted lasso fanfic

[little-pondhead]

It was rare for the Fentons to go on a family vacation together.

What made this one special, however, was the fact they were going to another dimension. And while everyone was good and excited, the portal the family was using was only big enough for a single person. They didn’t think about how going into the portal one by one would land them all in different places.

Now, while technically trapped in another dimension and completely stranded from one another, each Fenton must request help from the local heroes.

Except, their perception of “urgency” was a little screwed.

Jack Fenton adamantly refused Superman’s help; instead he preferred the company of the lovely older couple whose farm he landed on. Martha and Jonathan Kent.

Jazz Fenton was on the streets of Gotham for less than a day before she ended up beating the Joker unconscious with a thermos and then seeking the aide of Red Hood. (Bonus points for Anger Management.)

Maddie Fenton meets Wonder Woman pretty darn quickly, but keeps wandering off to examine the hero’s villains in great detail. Her favorite study subject is Cheetah, who does her absolute fucking best to avoid the crazy woman in the teal hazmat suit. Wonder Woman can’t figure out if she’s upset at this woman for getting into things she shouldn’t, or thankful because now she can catch a break.

Danny Fenton was probably the worst. Somehow, someway, he keeps managing to end up in places that are completely illogical and highly illegal. He’s been spotted all over the world, doing the most random shit without ever needing to go ghost. Several heroes catch up with him, as do villains. He rejects all promises of power or help, determined in his stubborn teenage brain that he can find his family on his own.

And if that requires visiting every major tourist spot he’s ever wanted to see, then so be it. His parents obviously aren’t on top of the Leaning Tower of Pisa, so it’s time to move on. India next, maybe? They have good food.

Extra: Dani came along with them, and got plopped down in The Flash’s path in the middle of a battle. He tripped, landing face first into the rough asphalt. She panics, picks up the Flash in a fireman’s carry completely ignoring the now flabbergasted villain behind them.

Dani doesn’t know where to go; she essentially just kidnapped a superhero and her family was missing. So Flash wakes up in a makeshift dumpster bed that hides him from the public, with a green sticky note on his forehead.

Sorry I tripped you, Mr. Dude. But I can’t afford the insurance if I take you to the hospital so hopefully we’ll never see each other again:)

-Elle

#danny phantom #dp x dc #danny fenton #jazz fenton #maddie fenton #jack fenton #dani fenton #superman #wonder woman #the flash #red hood #danny phantom crossover

[spaceman-earthgirl]

Supercorptober 2023 Day 18: Lena

(Just a heads up, I won't be posting over the next few days (until the 24th at the earliest) as I'll be out of town. I hope you enjoy this one!)

ao3 fic link. series link.

Lena Luthor is nothing like Kara expects.

She’s beautiful, which Kara did know before meeting her, she’s seen photos, done enough research into Lex to know who she is, but seeing a photo and seeing her in front of her are two separate things.

She’s absolutely stunning, and Kara is having a hard time focusing on what Clark and Lena are saying.

Kara knew Lena was smart, you have to be to be CEO of a company like Luthor Corp. But she’s sharp, and witty, and clever in a way that makes Kara want to find a way to drag this conversation out, just to hear her talk more.

Kara expects lies from Lena, expects deceit, things she’s become accustomed to whenever the Luthor name is involved. Maybe Lena is just better at it than the rest of her family, but Kara can’t help but believe her as Lena speaks.

And then Lena is talking about her family and being adopted and wanting to make a name for herself outside of her family and Kara totally understands, feels it even more strongly with Clark standing by her side.

Lena hands Clark a flash drive and Kara just knows, she can feel it, that Lena is telling the truth, that they can trust Lena.

Not that she can tell Clark that, so she does something dumb, something that Clark would definitely disapprove of, something she spends absolutely zero time thinking about (which is honestly sometimes for the best) and she quickly places her notebook down on the edge of Lena’s desk. Quick enough that neither of them notice, not even Clark.

They leave Lena’s office, and Kara already maybe regrets her plan a little, but it’s too late now, because Lena has her notebook and she needs it back.

“Shoot,” Kara says as she steps onto the elevator with Clark. “I left my notebook behind, I’ll meet you outside.”

She steps out of the elevator as the doors close, leaving a confused looking Clark behind.

Kara takes a couple of deep breaths before knocking on Lena’s office door.

“Sorry, I left my-“

“Notebook?” Lena finishes, holding up the book in her hand.

“Yeah, sorry,” Kara stammers. “I’m not used to this reporter thing. Not that I’m a reporter, I was just here with Clark, which you know, so I mean…” Kara trails off, realising she’s rambling when Lena tilts an eyebrow up. “Sorry,” Kara says for a third time.

“Don’t be sorry, but I am curious as to why you left this here. Don’t think I didn’t catch you leaving it on my desk.”

Kara is pretty sure her cheeks were already red after her little ramble, but now she feels her whole face flush at being caught.

Kara takes a deep breath. Again, she’s not sure what she expected coming back here, not sure entirely what she wanted, but she may as well be honest, there’s no point in lying now. She’s embarrassed herself already, what’s a little more?

“I didn’t have a plan exactly, was more of a spur of the moment thing. But I didn’t want to leave without telling you that Clark might not believe you but I do. I’ll figure out why the Venture exploded and prove to Clark he can trust you too.”

“I’m not sure Mr Kent is very quick to trust.”

“He’s my cousin, I’ll make him see reason.” Kara hesitates. She could leave it there, but she has one more thing she wants to say. She’s never usually this forward but something about Lena feels like it’s pulling her in, and she wants to know more. “The other reason I came back is I wanted to ask for your number because I know I’d regret it if I never saw you again. I’ve never met anyone like you before.”

There’s that eyebrow raise again, this time Kara can tell Lena is surprised.

Lena picks up a pen and scribbles something on the notebook before she hands it back to Kara.

“Thank you,” Lena says, and Kara can tell she’s being sincere. “Not many people trust me because of my name, and I’ve never met anyone like you before either.”

Lena smiles and Kara feels her knees go weak.

“Have a good day, Miss Danvers.”

“You too, Miss Luthor,” Kara replies with her own smile, feeling more confident that Lena hasn’t laughed at her or had her thrown out. “I’ll see you around?”

“I hope so.”

#supergirl #supercorp #kara danvers #lena luthor #supercorp fanfic #supercorptober2023

[makethatelevenrings]

Day 3: Anal w/ Roy Kent

kinda wish today was choking bc I had a joke about no one chokes harder than the Republican party

Kinktober Masterlist

“Are you sure about this?”

The question startled a laugh out of you. You laid back on the plush bed beneath you and spread your arms out against the soft, cotton sheets. Despite dating a very rich man, the life of luxury still amazed you and if there was one thing Roy never skimped on, it was on his sleep.

“Yes, you muppet. You’ve asked me that three times now. I’m sure.”

He raised his hands in surrender. “I just want to make sure I’m not fucking this up.” Roy meant it to be humorous but you could see that he was tense. You pushed yourself up and settled on your knees so you could lean up and grab his shoulders.

“I wouldn’t trust anyone else but you, Roy Kent. So get that pretty head out of your arse and get your other head into my arse.”

It was times like these that he regretted dating a younger woman.

“Fucking hell,” he choked out. “Have some compassion on my nerves.”

“Alright, Mrs Bennett,” you teased. You smoothed your hand down his shoulders and then traced your fingers down the soft hair that covered his chest. “If you’re not comfortable with it, then we don’t have to do it. It’s totally fine.”

“No, I just…I don’t want to hurt you.”

Your big softy. You cupped his cheek and smiled softly at the conflicted look in his dark eyes. For such a menacing man, he really was the biggest softy when it came to you. Your thumb rubbed along the soft skin of his lips and he breathed out against your touch.

“Knowing you the way I do, you did your research, right?”

“Might’ve asked Tartt if he’s ever popped a cherry before,” he grunted. You giggled at the mental image of that conversation.

“See? And I’ve done my research and I know my safewords. If at any point either one of us needs to stop, we stop. Right?”

“Right.”

You pushed away from his chest and landed back on the soft mattress. “So pop my cherry, Kent.”

He growled and flipped you over in that deliciously strong way of his. You sighed as you laid out on your stomach, but then he was grabbing your hips and making sure your back was arched and ass prominent. Roy slid his hands over the soft cotton of your sleep shorts and then slowly eased the fabric down, revealing the puckered hole he had yet to breach.

Your eyes fluttered shut in anticipation and you burned with the unreleased desire that had been slowly building in your veins. This was some wild fantasy that had come to mind. You never thought he would actually-

Holy shit. Roy Kent was rimming you.

The rough burn of his beard against your sensitive flesh lit your nerves on fire. His strong hands pulled your ass cheeks apart so he could access your hole better. You moaned at the warm touch against your skin and it nearly covered up the sound of the lube bottle being opened. Fuck, this was really happening.

One of his lube-covered fingers replaced his tongue as he probed at your hole. You instinctively clenched and then relaxed as he eased the tip of one finger in and then let it rest until you gathered your bearings. This was so much tighter than your pussy. A startled gasp escaped you as he pushed in further and Roy paused.

“Alright?” His other hand stroked down the inside of your thigh and you nodded.

“Yes. Yeah. Fuck. Keep going.”

He worked you open, slow and gentle and completely unlike the man he was portrayed to be, until he could work in two fingers. Then three. It was at that point that you were practically whimpering into the pillow underneath you.

“If you don’t put that cock in me in the next five seconds, I won’t let you near me for a month.”

“Yeah right,” he snorted. The sheets rustled beside you and the snick of the lube bottle being opened once more caught your attention. Roy adjusted himself on the bed and then he was there. The blunt head of his cock pressed against the mess he had made of you and you scrambled to grab the sheets as he started to slowly fuck his way into your tight channel.

“Fuck, Roy. Fuck,” you moaned. “Just like that.”

He leaned down to kiss the small of your back before he slid fully into your ass and then settled, giving you time to adjust. You flashed him a thumbs up and he slowly slid out before thrusting back into you. Your body jolted with the thrust and you moaned in appreciation at the feeling. It was foreign and strange, but so fucking hot.

You could tell he liked it too based on the way his breathing became ragged and rough at the edges. This had to be a totally new sensation for him too. Tight and controlled. His hips snapped against yours and your eyes rolled back into your head. Shit, that felt good.

Roy reached down and rubbed at your clit, pushing you towards the edge and forcing you to tumble over until you were whining and sobbing into the pillow below you. His hips stuttered as he came, spilling into the condom, and then he was carefully pulling out of you and lying you down on your side.

Silence, except for your labored breathing, filled the room. Your brain was mush. Gentle hands caressed your side, your hair, your thighs.

“He’s here. He’s there. He’s every fucking where,” you mumbled out. Roy barked out a surprised laugh and leaned over to kiss your cheek.

“Came everywhere in you now, haven’t I?” he hummed.

“Roy Kent,” you sang. “Roy Kent fucked my ass.”

“God, I love you.”

#roy kent x reader #roy kent smut #roy kent imagine #kinktober #kinktober 2023

[unmotivatedwrit3r]

One in Eleven Million (ch. 6)

damian wayne x reader x jon kent

(A/N): So I think this ends up being ten chapters? I'll try to post more frequently; I've tortured you all long enough haha. Though I'm hoping to get a couple different things out in the next couple of weeks, so you'll get more from me, just not always of this.

As always, masterlist linked here.

warnings: air travel, turbulence

wc: ~1300

~~

Damian turned from where he was watching you continue your project to face Jon. He pulled off his zip up sweater, tugging down the sleeve of his long sleeved shirt to hide the bandages Jon did at the hotel earlier in the morning, before passing it over to Jon. 

“Here.” Damian nudged him. “For the sunglasses.” 

Though he could feel your eyes on the back of his neck, Damian ignored you for now, taking his sunglasses back from Jon’s outstretched hand. In the corner, Jon curled into a ball, head tilted against the wall and face buried in Damian’s sweatshirt. Damian watched him for a moment, chest tight. No matter how many times he’d been through this with Jon, it didn’t get easier seeing him in pain. Jon flicked him a thumbs up and Damian relaxed, turning back to you. Overhead, the safety announcement came to a close. 

“He’s okay?” You asked, eyes fixed on Jon. Your arms, already wrapped around yourself, tightened. Damian nodded, eyes straying back to his left for just a moment before returning to you. 

“He will be, once we get up in the air and away from the chaos of the airport.” He tipped his chin at the project left abandoned in your lap. “How long have you been doing that?” 

“Oh a couple of years maybe? I’m not sure exactly. Do you,” you hesitated. “Do you do some kind of art? And you read Arabic, right? I saw the book you were reading last night.” Damian’s eyes scanned your face. You looked nervous, though genuine, and he found himself not minding the questions. It felt more like curiosity than idle small talk. He hated small talk.

“I do. And speak it.” Your eyes lit up. 

“Cool,” you breathed, smiling. “I’m not great at languages but I would like to be fluent in a few one day. And art?” 

“I draw,” Damian revealed. “And paint.” He fought to keep from mirroring your smile.

“That’s awesome. I write a little bit, but only as a hobby.”  

“Really? About what?” He asked genuinely. 

“Whatever I get motivation for I guess? I wish I had a better answer but I just like it.” 

“Doing things for liking them is an answer.” Damian could almost see you mulling the words around in your head. He took the moment to observe your features up close: beautiful eyes and an unexpectedly striking smile. 

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” 

“I know.” 

Your startled laugh tore the last of his self restraint down. Damian’s face split into a grin.

The two of you spent the next while talking about everything and anything. You shared your reasons for being on the plane at all, your favorite color, your other hobbies. In turn, he showed you pictures of his art, his cat and dog, and gorgeous shots of Gotham at sunrise. He had a lot of pictures of him and a brown man with shaggy dark hair and bright blue eyes. In the recent pictures, Damian began to overtake him in height. “My oldest brother,” Damian offered when you asked. 

“You’re the youngest?” He nodded. 

“Of several. I am one of the tallest, though.” 

“Oh boy,” you laughed. “I bet your older siblings hate that.” 

“They do.” 

And then there were the pictures of Jon. Jon by himself or with Damian’s pets, Jon captured in Damian’s art, and Damian and Jon together. 

“Where was this?” You asked. In the picture, Damian was standing on a pathway covered in a dusting of snow, bundled up and on crutches. Jon, in a blue zip-up and jeans, was making a snow angel on the ground in much deeper snow beside him. 

“A few winters ago. In Gotham.” 

“I remember that snowfall” You thought back to the remnants of a Mr. Freeze plot. Following Batman’s intervention, all that was left was a snowy cold front. “But mostly I stayed inside and caught up on work during the snow day. And watched too much TV.” Damian huffed a laugh. 

On his other side, small snores emanated from the pile of denim and red fabric. Jon didn’t wake when the flight attendant came around with snacks. Damian accepted Jon’s pretzels for him.

“How long have you two known each other?” You asked, some time in. Damian looked over at Jon. The lights in the cabin were dim, and both boys were bathed in shadow. 

“A decade or so, now,” he said. Then, a little quieter. “He’s my best friend.” 

“You’re a good friend Damian.” Your eyes followed his over to Jon. He looked smaller than you’d ever seen him, all 6ft something curled up in an economy airplane seat. “He’s lucky to have you.“And I know I don’t know you guys that well but I can tell he’s a good person. And that you’re lucky to have him too.” 

Damian didn’t argue. 

“I am.” 

Two hours in, Jon stirred, pushing the hood off his head and blinking slowly. 

“Hey,” he mumbled. Your breath caught unwittingly in your throat. Jon’s voice was rough and his hair was mussed from where it had been smushed underneath his hoodie. You curled your fingers into your palms, resisting the urge to push back a curl that had dropped onto his forehead. Jon rubbed the backs of his hands against his eyes, dislodging his glasses. “Did I fall asleep?” 

“Morning,” you managed. Some part of you was surprised you managed to get out any words at all, much less in a tone that wouldn’t pass for a squeal. 

Damian took his sweatshirt back from Jon’s offering hand. “Feeling better?”

“Yeah,” he said, attempting to stretch while crammed in a seat with no legroom. You just watched, chest squeezing pleasantly. Damian was watching similarly. What am I doing? You wondered to yourself. He’s not yours, neither of them are. 

“You needed the sleep,” Damian said beside you. Jon snorted out a laugh. 

“Thanks Dames,” he said dryly. 

“Always.” 

You wrenched your attention away from the boys, turning your phone over in between your hands. It was too late, you knew. You were already attached. But this was a plane, a vehicle to get you from place to place. There was no reason they would be any different, just a passing point in your life. Selfishly, you hoped they might be more. 

A tap on your shoulder from Damian brought you back into the conversation. 

“Huh?” Two sets of concerned eyes were watching you carefully. Your eyes met green then blue for only a moment. “What’s up? I zoned out for a moment, sorry. Tired.” 

Damian looked like he wanted to argue with you. You hoped he wouldn’t; you might have only met him the day before, but you had a feeling he’d figure it out anyway. 

“Do you know how far we are?” Jon asked instead. 

“Oh sure I can check that one sec.” You opened the airline map on your phone. “About an hour and a half away.” The little airplane icon on your phone screen placed the plane somewhere above the Chicago area. “See?” 

“Oh that’s cool!” Jon said to Damian, taking the device from you. “Kinda looks like the thing your dad has for my dad.” There was context you were missing, you assumed. Damian huffed a laugh. 

“It’s a similar technology.” 

“What do your dads do?” You asked them. 

“He’s a journalist,” Jon offered. 

“Businessman.” Damian’s lips quirked up. “Family business.” 

That did not clear it up for you whatsoever. You snapped your mouth shut on any follow-up questions at the jump of turbulence. Your shoulders stiffened instinctively for a moment before you relaxed back into your seat. This wasn’t your first batch of turbulence and it probably wouldn’t be your last. Damian didn’t seem shaken. Jon, though, looked terrified, one hand gripping Damian’s wrist and the other tapping furiously against his thigh. 

“Is this normal? On commercial planes?” 

“Sometimes,” Damian assured. “The pilot warned of turbulence earlier.” 

“They usually come over the loudspeaker when it happens, just to reassure people.” 

Your prediction came true with a crackle of the intercom. 

“Just an average bit of turbulence folks. All numbers are still in the green, so no need to worry. As a precaution, the seatbelt signs are going back on so please stay seated if possible.” 

The pilot’s voice seemed to reassure Jon. You, for one, were tired of hearing it.

#damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x reader x jonathan kent #damian wayne x reader x jon kent #damian wayne imagine #damian wayne x gender neutral reader #jon kent imagine #jon kent x gender neutral reader #jon kent x reader #OIEM series #emerson writes sometimes