#do i tag roy he’s just standing there

[swearingcactus]

what can i say, i like assholes who are messy crybabies

#jamie tartt #ted lasso #i drew this tag #do i tag roy he’s just standing there #his chant is baby shark man wtf is wrong with him (affecionate) #finally figuring out procreate btw hooway

[axelsagewrites]

Jamie Tartt*Prick

Pairing: Jamie x f!reader

Word count: 2744

Warnings: swearing, Jamie having daddy issues and insecurities, sad Jamie, drinking, Roy being Roy

Summary: after seeing how upset Jamie gets at Roys treatment of him reader decides to take a stand. set in season one but a timeline where Jamie is still a prick but not quite as prickish as the show

Inspired by a post by @if-i-look-straight-look-again (hope you don’t mind me tagging you)

Masterlist Here

“Hey baby how was your day?” you called out from where you lay on the sofa as you heard Jamie dragging himself in from practise.

all you had to do was look at him to see how it had been. the way he dumped his bag and let his jacket slump from his shoulders onto the floor before he trudged towards the sofa. you held your arms out for him to fall into as he curled up beside you on the couch. “Fucking shit,” he mumbled, his hand moving to grab yours to pull your arm over his tense frame till you were spooning him.

your hand shot to his hair, running slow strokes through his sweaty mane but that was an issue for later. when Jamie got in his own head, he’d often turn to you for comfort, needing to be held without having to ask. “You wanna talk about it?” you asked, kissing his temple.

“Roy was just being so mean,” he grumbled, his eyes closing shut as he settled into place, “And for no reason right. like I get I can be a prick but like I was no being that bad the day. then he was just shouting at me like I was stupid and I was no being stupid like,” Jamie sighed, almost sinking further into the couch.

usually, you and Jamie would tease and rile each other up but you knew now was not the time, “I know baby,” you said, kissing him again as he began to relax. “I know its sucky baby but maybe eventually he’ll tone it down,”

“Doubt it,” Jamie mumbled as he began to trace circles onto your hand resting over his chest. “Just sucks you know. I thought I was gonna train with some great footballer, but it turns out he’s just a has been,” you sighed but you didn’t want to provoke him further so the two of you fell into silence.

you remember the day Jamie found out he was going to Richmond. you had only just started dating then but he wanted to celebrate the news with you. he was weirdly excited about the whole thing which shocked you since he’d always talk about if he went to man city or Chelsea but there he was bouncing around like an excited schoolboy when he got the news.

he ended up inviting you to join him, his mum, and stepdad out to dinner to celebrate. it was the first time you’d met her, and you had to say she was an absolutely wonderful woman and you understood instantly why Jamie loved her. she had insisted it was far too late for you to go home after you’d spent the whole evening playing monopoly with the family. she had insisted you stay the night, and you ended up squished beside Jamie on his childhood bed for the night.

it wasn’t till you were about to fall asleep you noticed the poster on his wall, “Doesn’t Roy Kent play for Richmond?” you asked, disturbing a tipsy Jamie from his almost slumber.

“Yup,” he grinned as he pulled you into his arms even tighter, “Im gonna be playing with the Roy Kent,”

“You gonna get him to sign your poster?” you teased, leaning your nose in to rub against his making him laugh. Jamie had spent the rest of the night telling you about the highlights of Roy’s career before eventually you both fell asleep.

cut to his first day at Richmond he called you to say how the only thing Roy said to him was in the form of a grunt. you’d insisted that it would get better, maybe he was just shy, but here you were now with him curled up on the couch pouting over Roy. you knew better than anyone else Jamie could be a bit of a cocky prick. you loved it about him, most of the time, but you knew why he was the way he was.

you knew he craved the attention and praise he’d desperately tried to get from his father and then suddenly from his old hero. you remember Jamie’s calls after practise where he was absolutely exhausted from going full out when he didn’t have to. he had to move when he transferred to Richmond, and you had been unable to move with him at first. he’d tried to hide his disappointment over the phone, but you knew it was there.

you ended moving down after his first season and threw a housewarming party that he invited the whole team to. the party was swimming with footballers, even Higgins came, but no Roy. Jamie was all smiles and perky the whole night, showing you and the house off to all his friends, but once everyone left you could see the sadness in his eyes. despite that now seeming like so long ago you knew deep down it still bothered him.

“Do you think he’ll ever like me?” Jamie mumbled in the voice you knew meant he was on the verge of sleep.

“It doesn’t matter if he likes you baby,” you murmured, kissing the back of his neck, “it just matters that you like you,”

it was a couple of days later while you were getting ready for the day you noticed Jamie’s phone still sitting on the nightstand. this was especially odd since Jamie never left the house without his phone and practise was supposed to be starting right now. it wasn’t uncommon for Jamie to wake up a bit late so you grabbed his phone, figuring he must’ve forgot it so you would be generous and drop it off for him.

it was as you were about to drive off you got a phone call from a front desk lady at Richmond saying Jamie had asked you to bring it in. you laughed at the predictability of your boyfriend before heading off to the club. you were able to get in no problem and insisted on dropping it off to Jamie yourself to not create more work for the receptionist.

you headed to the pitch, knowing the club like the back of your hand by this point. they were all practising what you thought was dribbling when Jamie suddenly noticed you. he paused mid dribble and waved with a goofy smile before running over to you.

“You’re a life saver princess,” he said as he took the phone off of you to stash in his hoodie he’d left at the side of the pitch.

“You need your girlfriend to teach you how to play Tartt?” a gruff voice barked from behind.

you span around to see the culprit of your boyfriends upset storming over, “Calm down grandad,” Jamie scoffed as he stood back up, “Was just getting meh phone alright?”

Roy stared your boyfriend down as he said a quick goodbye to you, kissing your cheek, before jogging back over to the rest of the boys. you could see Jamie’s new coach walking towards you in the corner of your eye, Ted you think Jamie had said, but your eyes were glued on Roy as you folded you arms as he began to walk away, “What is your problem?”

your words shocked the whole team into stunned silence as they stopped their drills, “Excuse me?” Roy asked, his eyes wide as he turned around.

“Do you need the attitude to play or is it just an added bonus?” you glared right at him, not caring how loud he chose to yell at you.

“Your boyfriend the one with the fucking attitude,”

“At least my boyfriend can still kick a ball,” you spat back making the boys behind Roy gasp and a vein pop in the captain’s neck, “What kind of captain just grunts orders and expects their players to play well?”

“This one fucking does,” Roy said.

At this point the new coach decided to step in, getting between you and Roy, “Well howdy there im Ted,” he said, holding out his hand for you to shake which you did while still glaring at Roy, “Is everything all hunky dory here?” he asked, looking between you both like an actual fight might break out.

“Everything’s perfect,” you smiled, your eyes locked on Roy’s.

“Fucking peachy,” he grunted back, his eyes not leaving yours either leaving Ted in an uncomfortable silence, “I’ve got training to do,” Roy said, eventually backing down from the challenge and stomping back to the team, waving off anyone who tried to speak to him.

you glared after him before turning back to Ted. instantly a smile spread across your face as you reached out your hand to shake his, “Nice to meet you Ted, I’m Jamie’s girlfriend,” you smiled as you introduced yourself and you could see the confusion written in teds face as he tried to figure out what was happening.

he snapped out of it as he shook your hand, a smile spreading to his own face, “Well nice to meet you, I think,” Ted said, and you spoke to him for a minute or so before finally leaving.

you wondered for the rest of the afternoon if you had went to far as you waited for Jamie to get home but when the door slammed shut and a loud, “I’m home,” rang out across the house you knew it had been a good practise, “Babe I gotta tell you that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” he praised as he found you in the kitchen and pulled you in for a kiss.

you laughed against your lips before pulling back and turning your attention back to dinner, “Well im glad you had fun,”

“We should have even more fun,” Jamie said as he wrapped his arms around your waist, kissing your shoulder making you giggle as he wiggled his eyebrows.

“Later,” you said, hitting him in on the shoulder with a wooden spoon before turning back to attempt to finish making dinner, “Also I think we should have another team night. invite everyone round,”

“Why?” Jamie said as he settled to hug you from behind as you cooked.

you shrugged as you stirred the pasta, “Be a nice way to welcome Ted to the team I suppose,” you said. it did not take much Jamie much convincing to have a night of casual drinking with his team mates even if that meant inviting the new coach round.

the boys of course were more than thrilled at the idea since apparently the last couple movie nights had ended up in hour long fights over which film to watch. they all began to pour into your house on Thursday evening. Collin and Sam were the first to arrive, Sam even bring you a bottle of wine as a thank you gift, but it wasn’t long till your house was filled with footie obsessed boys who had brought lots of vanilla vodka and beer bottles.

Ted seemed a tad overwhelmed when he arrived, but you made sure to get him settled in, which was made much easier when the other coach, beard you think, arrived. everything was actually going pretty well until the room suddenly got silent.

you glanced up from where you sat on the back of the couch to see Roy Kent standing in your doorway. he walked in slowly, not bothering to say hello as all eyes were on him. “Roy,” you said, slowly getting off the couch as you tried not to step on Issac or Jamie.

he grunted in response before finally adding, “Hey,” he said before looking around, “What’s everyone staring at?”

everyone’s eyes darted away as they tried to pretend to be in conversations, “Kitchens over there if you wanna stick that in some ice,” you said, motioning to the drinks he had brought. Roy nodded before walking off to the kitchen.

before you could walk to follow him, Jamie grabbed your wrist, pulling you down so he could whisper in your ear, “Roy Kents at my party!” he drunkenly grinned in your ear.

“Yes, he is baby,” you whispered back, no where near as buzzed as Jamie, before kissing his cheek and standing back up, “I’ll be two seconds alright?”

you quickly went to join Roy in the kitchen who was opening his beer bottle on your countertop but now did not feel like the time for arguments. he looked up silently as you walked in but as you walked over, he held out the bottle for you which you gladly accepted as he opened one for himself. “Suppose this is when I say sorry for being a dick,” you said before taking a sip out the bottle.

“Are you gonna?”

“Nope,” you said, popping your p with a grin.

Roy laughed, well chuckled slightly, but still, “Good. couldn’t respect you if you did,”

you both fell into a somewhat comfortable silence as you sipped your beers. You decided you couldn’t take it anymore though and decided to break it, “Why are you so hard on Jamie?”

“Your boyfriends a prick,” Roy grunted, and you laughed a little, “Which im guessing you already know,”

“Obviously,” you said before hopping up to sit on the counter, “Just don’t know why it bothers you so much,”

Roy sighed as he downed the rest of his beer, “Because I was the prick,” he said as he began to open another bottle, drinking half of it in one go like a pro, “When I started, I was just as irritating as that shit, if not worse,”

“So, because you sucked you have to take it out on him?” you asked.

“He’s not gonna get anywhere by having everyone kiss his ass,” Roy spat right back leaving you in a far tenser silence than before which was only broken by a regretful sigh from Roy, “He’s good alright. really fucking good. but he needs to fix his fucking attitude,” he said making you raise an eyebrow with a slight laugh, “Alright I get the irony,” Roy said as he sat his beer down.

you hoped off the counter and held your hand out to him, “Truce?” you asked and silently he shook your hand, and you wondered if he had deliberately made his grip extra strong, “Lets just try have a good night. socialising is fun,” you teased as you took another drink making Roy roll his eyes.

almost as if on cue Jamie walked in the room, stumbling slightly, “There you are,” he grinned, quickly moving to your side and wrapping an arm round your shoulder before placing a wet kiss to your cheek, “Whatcha talkin about?” he asked with a drunken grin.

“You,” Roy deadpanned making Jamie’s eyebrows furrow in confusion, “Your girlfriends…nice,” he finally said before walking out the room, his third beer in his hand. you wondered if drunk Roy would be more fun and contemplated switching his beer for vodka given the chance.

Jamie turned to you, his jaw hanging open as he began to hold you tighter, “Roy Kent likes my girlfriend,”

“Roy Kent likes you too dummy,” you giggled as you turned to try escape Jamie’s grip to no avail.

Jamie gripped your wrist, his eyes going wide, “He said that?”

You didn’t want to lie but you knew how much this moment meant to Jamie, “He said, and I quote, ‘really fucking good’ and that you reminded him of himself,” you said, leaving out the insults so Jamie could have his win.

Jamie jumped up and down on the spot, doing a silent cheer as he grabbed your hands, “No fucking way,” he whispers shouted and you wondered how on earth drunk Jamie was quieter than sober Jamie, “Man that’s so cool,” Jamie gushed as if he was still twelve, “Except im prettier than him, obviously,” he said bringing out that cocky side you secretly adored.

you took his face in your hands, giving him a swift peck on the lips, “Much prettier. now should we get you back to your party?”

Jamie grinned as he pulled back before sticking his hand out dramatically for you to take which you gladly did. he pulled your arm, spinning you around the kitchen making you laugh loudly before finally leading you back into the living room. even if Roy was sitting silently in an armchair watching the team make a full of himself you swore you saw a smile at the edge of his lips. the ice was finally melting.

a/n: writing this feels very ironic for me since i started the show as a roy lover and jamie hater but now im a die hard jamie defender (still love roy just as much tho if not more than when i started)

#ted lasso #ted lasso imagine #ted lasso x reader #ted lasso fluff #jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tart x reader #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt fluff #jamie tart fluff #roy kent imagine

[cantstoptheimagines]

Golden Boy (Dani Rojas | Ted Lasso)

Summary — All Dani wants is your attention.

Warnings & Other Tags ➳ Fluff; co-workers to lovers; some canon-typical cursing (mostly from Roy); feigning excuses to see one’s love; Dani being Dani (a golden retriever); Roy being a frustrated, unintentional wingman; Reader is a physical trainer for AFC Richmond.

Notes ➳ Word Count is 1,735. ➳ Reader is gender neutral (they/them). ➳ This work has a visual edit!

FAQ | Masterlist | Fandoms | Requests | Coming Soon | Schedule 

“He’s doing it again.”

Ted furrowed his eyebrows. His eyes sharpened beneath his dark sunglasses. Next to him, Roy and Beard had their attention focused on something other than the players on the training pitch. Nate was merely shaking his head. Ted, however, felt his face burst into a cheerful expression when he noticed what he gained their attention.

Across the pitch, Dani Rojas was very slowly going through some drills, weaving between some cones with an occasional limp as he gently kicked a ball. It would be very unlike him to be so subtle during practice, if he didn’t have his preferred audience, that is.

From the sidelines, you were watching him carefully. Your hands rested on your hips while your eyes were unwaveringly set on his left ankle. It was something he had been complaining to you about for a few days.

“That’s the third fucking time this week.”

Roy’s grumbles forced Ted out of his thoughts. He tilted his head and grinned, “Oh, c’mon, Roy! Don’t tell me you never had a crush someone? Dani’s just experiencin’ some classic symptoms of puppy love right now. I say we let this run its course.”

Ted ignored the way Roy rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. Even from the other side of the training pitch, it was easy to see how well you and Dani got along. Dani was always happy, of course, but whenever you came around, his smile had a tendency of becoming ten times brighter.

But what was good for Dani wasn’t always good for the team, much to Ted’s disappointment. Richmond’s happy-go-lucky striker had gone from Greyhound to Golden Retriever the moment he met you. And the fact that you were one of the team’s physical trainers didn’t help. You practically had Dani at your beck and call without even realizing it.

And Dani was either too shy to start a conversation without having an excuse for doing so prepared or he was genuinely turning into the biggest klutz on the team. After his ‘injuries’ began occurring on an almost daily basis, however, two things became clear.

The first being that, despite his sweet disposition and undeniable good nature, Dani Rojas was a damn good liar when he wanted to be. It had taken everyone weeks to see through his façade.

And you, who seemingly had no clue about Dani’s stunts, had officially become what was potentially the worst type of person in all of sports. The type that every locker room loathed and every coach feared. A distraction. 

“Oi! Rojas!”

Ted jumped at the sound of Roy’s sudden angry shout. Despite being on the other side of the training pitch, Dani did as well. While Ted had become lost in his thoughts, Dani had stopped doing his drills altogether. Instead, he had moved to stand mere inches away from you, smiling brightly as he absentmindedly played with the hem of your shirt.

It was something you didn’t even seem to notice, but his teammates, along with Roy, certainly did.

“Get back to fucking practice!” 

Ted watched as Dani bid you a quick, quiet farewell. He then scurried onto the pitch to join the rest of his team. If he had a tail, it would certainly be between his legs.

“Sorry, Coach!” he called, face flushing with embarrassment. “Let’s play, mis amigos!”

This was a small victory for Roy. He let out a satisfied grunt, watching with his hawk-like eyes as you quickly made yourself scarce. Ted, meanwhile, couldn’t help but give his fellow coach an exasperated stare. Beard tried to keep a smirk off his face while Nate simply shifted awkwardly. 

“Really, Roy?” asked Ted. “Really?” 

The man in question scoffed, furrowing his eyebrows with a scowl, “What? He’s back on the pitch, isn’t he? That’s where he’s meant to be! Not off chatting on the sidelines!”

Ted shook his head, quietly muttering, “Seems to me you just don’t want Dani to find true love.”

“Now wait just a fucking minute—!”

“Uh, guys,” said Beard, voice shaking, “hate to interrupt the friendly chat, but I think we’ve got a problem.”

It was then the other coaches realized what he was referring to. On the training pitch, Dani was on the grass, groaning loudly as he clutched his ankle.

“Oh, shit!” exclaimed Roy.

Each of them quickly ran onto the training pitch. Nate quickly grabbed his phone before following, ready to call for help if it ended up being an emergency.

The players had surrounded Dani, trying their best to help him. His face was twisted in pain. He curled into himself and rolled onto his side. Beard kneeled next to him, removing his sunglasses in order to get a clearer view of the situation.

“What’s going on, Rojas?” he asked. “What happened?” 

“¡Ayúdame! Coach, please!” exclaimed Dani. “¡Mi tobillo! The right!”

Nate winced, “Do I need to call—?”

“Whistle! Whistle! Hold it!” shouted Roy, eyebrows sinking even deeper into his irritated expression. “I thought it was your left ankle that was fucking you up? Not the right?”

Even Dani himself paused at that. The chaos of the moment dimmed. He could see smirks growing on the faces of some of his teammates while others simply shook their heads and returned to practice.

“That’s it!” grumbled Roy, reaching down and roughly pulling Dani to his feet. “C’mon! We’re settling this shit right now!” 

Ted glanced at both Beard and Nate, who each had concern written across their faces. Meanwhile, Roy was practically dragging Dani by the back of his uniform in the direction of the Richmond clubhouse. Ted grimaced at the sight, and muttered, “Why don’t you two stay here and watch the team? I’m gonna try to help ‘em sort this whole thing out.” 

Before either of them could so much as blink, Ted had spun around to follow an angry Roy and a shaking Dani. His quick pace led him into the clubhouse. His footsteps echoed loudly as he did his best to catch up to the other two men. 

Ted caught up just in time to witness Roy roughly opening the door to your office. It slammed against the wall so hard that Ted wouldn’t be surprised if there was a hole left behind.

You nearly wet yourself at the sudden scare. Your heart pounded within your chest. Adrenaline, along with complete and total confusion, flooded through your body as Roy forced Dani to stand in front of your desk. You hardly even noticed Ted watching the scene from the doorway, anxiously biting his nails. 

“You’ve become a fucking problem,” glared Roy.

The disgusted expression that crossed your face nearly made Ted sick. Your lips curled and your eyes narrowed, “And you haven’t? You nearly ripped my door off, dickface!” 

Roy paused, seemingly taking in your words as he stared at you. Finally, he grunted, “Look, we just need you to fix him.” 

Your eyes followed in the direction he suddenly began pointing. When your gaze met Dani’s brown eyes, Ted and Roy noticed the way your glare softened.

“Dani, I told you this already,” you chuckled, shaking your head. “I think your ankle’s fine. Just wrap it up and elevate it tonight with some ice, you’ll be good for the game—”

“He’s not injured,” interrupted Roy. “The team’s ‘golden boy’ here is a liar—”

“Okay!” exclaimed Ted. The look of displeasure once again blooming within your eyes gave him a reason to finally leap into the conversation. “Now, I don’t think Roy meant that in the way it sounded.”

Your shoulders seemed to lose their tension as he spoke. Instead of glaring at Roy, you gave your full attention to Ted. But honestly, Ted wasn’t sure if that was better or worse in their situation. 

“We just think Dani’s got somethin’ to tell you about that ankle of his,” he continued, and then he gestured to the footballer in question. “Ain’t that right, Mr. Rojas?” 

Dani, who had been admiring you from his place in front of your desk, froze when the three of you looked at him expectantly. He twiddled his thumbs at the sudden attention, “It is true. I have been lying to you, my friend, but I meant no harm by it. My reasons were innocent! ¡Prometo!” 

Dani admired the confused expression that overwhelmed your features. You always looked so wonderful to him, no matter the emotion. He only hoped you wouldn’t be upset with him.

With an encouraging nod from Ted, he continued, “My ankle was never injured. I have been lying in order to, well... I only wanted to spend time with you. But my actions seem to have only brought frustration to my teammates. I am sorry.”

You tilted your head with a small smile when his voice trailed off. Leaning back in your chair, you chuckled, “Dani, you’re so sweet... but I already knew you were faking.”

“You did?!”

You blinked in surprise at the sound of all three men shouting in unison. They stared back at you in shock, though Roy in particular seemed to be feeling some irritation as well. You tried not to grin as Ted ripped off his sunglasses, eyes wide with disbelief. And the way Dani tightly gripped the edge of your desk, leaning forward with a dropped jaw, was also quite amusing. 

“Uh, yeah! You footballers aren’t exactly what I would call subtle when it comes to flirting,” you shrugged, shaking your head at them. “Plus, Colin told me about it weeks ago when he came in for me to look at his shoulder. I’ve basically just been waiting for you to gather up enough courage to ask me out, but it seems like I’m gonna have to take the first step. So, Dani, why don’t you pick me up at seven?”

Ted had never seen someone look so happy. Dani smiled so excitedly, Ted thought he might put the sun out of business. 

“Yes, yes!” exclaimed Dani, back to his usual enthusiastic attitude. “A million times yes! I will see you tonight! Oh, I cannot wait to tell mis amigos! Let’s go, coaches!”

He whooped and cheered loudly as he quickly left your office. Ted and Roy watched him leave. While Ted sported a wide, happy grin, Roy looked on in bewilderment. After a moment, however, he turned to you with yet another glare.

“You couldn’t have fucking done that sooner?!”

#2023 #ted lasso #ted lasso imagine #ted lasso imagines #ted lasso x reader #dani rojas imagine #dani rojas imagines #dani rojas x reader #golden boy

[willalove75]

Keeley and Rebecca would gossip at lunch about Roy and Reader . Especially after seeing them workout together , reader has tattoos . Maybe they go on a double date or with Jack ? Some banter , teasing . Rebecca KNOWS what gets reader going 😳🔥

Yessss!! Love this request so much! Sorry I took literally FOREVER to get to it💕

Warnings: 18+ ONLY. Minors DNI

Tags: flirty, teasing

A/n: Holy shit it's been a MINUTE since I've done a Rebecca fic! I'm going to be trying to do a better job at responding to the Rebecca requests that have been in my inbox for months. I'm so sorry it's taken so long to get through them!

Rebecca and Keeley walk through the halls of AFC Richmond together as they're on their way to lunch. They make their way through the locker room in search of you. Rebecca knocks on Ted's office door and walks in.

"Well howdy boss! Keeley! What are you two rascals up to?"

"Good afternoon Ted." Rebecca says. "Have you seen y/n? I thought she would be in here."

"Ah, I think I saw her and Roy head into the gym a little while ago."

"Of course that's where they are." Keeley says with a playful eyeroll.

The duo head to the gym and lo and behold, there you were. You were doing bench presses and Roy was your spotter.

Rebecca's breath hitches in her chest when she sees you. Her eyes rake over your body, your legs spread on either side of the bench, the little arch in your back, the tight white tank top you had on - you must have pulled your work shirt off. She was practically drooling over the way your muscles flexed when you brought the bar down to your chest and pushed it back up. The tattoos covering your arms were glistening with a thin layer of sweat and it made her heart skip a beat. You didn't even know she was standing there and you were already driving her crazy. It was baffling to Rebecca that someone had such an effect on her.

"Hi babe!" Keeley says as she trots over to Roy and kisses him on the cheek.

As you bring the bar back down to your chest you hear Keeley and look over and see Rebecca practically gawking at you. You flash her a quick smirk before Roy brings you back to reality.

"You're not done yet." He growls. "Four more. For every second you stare at her I'm adding two more."

You quickly refocus and bang out the last four reps before Roy helps you rerack the bar. Using it as leverage, you pull yourself up into a sitting position and look back over at Rebecca who's strutting her way over to you.

"Hey babe." You say.

"Hello my love." She says, leaning down to give you a kiss on the cheek.

"What are you guys doing here?"

"Well we were going to invite you to lunch, but it looks like you're rather preoccupied at the moment." Rebecca says.

You look over at Roy who lets out a low growl letting you know he's not finished kicking your ass yet.

"I'm sorry baby, but it looks like Oscar the Grouch here isn't done torturing me just yet."

"You asked for this." He deadpans.

"It's okay my love, we'll get lunch another time." She says.

"Okay lets go! I'm so hungry I could fuck a horse!" Keeley says.

You, Rebecca, and Roy all look at Keeley.

"Don't you mean 'eat a horse?'" You ask.

"Nope. Bye babe!" She says before kissing Roy and heading towards the door. "Lets go Rebecca!"

You shake your head at her and Rebecca looks down at you. Looking up at her like this does things to you and she knows it. She tries to do it as often as she can and it drives you wild. She bends forward and subtly squeezes her breasts together so you get the best view of her cleavage since you can see right down the front of her shirt. You can feel your cheeks turn red and it's not from working out. Rebecca cups under your chin and pulls you in for a kiss.

When she pulls away and you open your eyes you're met with a beautiful pair of piercing green eyes staring back at you. Your heart stutters in your chest and she gives you a little smirk.

"I'll see you later, love." Is all she says before turning around and walking away. She sways her hips a little as she walks away and you develop an ache between your legs.

After she leaves you drag your hands down your face and groan.

"That woman will be the death of me."

Roy snickers at you and you shoot him a look.

"You chose that punishment. I have no sympathy. Lets go, you have two more sets to finish and then I'm throwing you in the ice tub." You groan in protest. "After that little, whatever the fuck that was, you're gonna need it."

At lunch Rebecca and Keeley are seated at a table and they go over the menu after placing their drink orders. Rebecca is chewing on her bottom lip as she looks over the menu and Keeley giggles at her.

"What?" Rebecca asks.

"You."

"What about me?"

"She really got you flustered by just existing, didn't she?" Rebecca rolls her eyes at Keeley and looks back at the menu. "Oh come on! I saw the way you were looking at her and how you practically eye fucked her in front of the entire team!"

"Keeley Jones! I did no such thing!"

"Oh yes you did and you know it!"

"I wasn't eye fucking her, just, playfully flirting."

"Yeah, okay. Anyway, we should go on a double date, we haven't done that in ages!"

"That sounds like a wonderful idea, Friday night?"

"Perfect."

Friday night rolls around and you and Rebecca and dressed and off to your double date with Roy and Keeley. Her driver drops you off at the restaurant and Keeley and Roy pull up right after you. After exchanging hello's the four of you head inside and are lead to your table. Drinks and orders are placed and the conversation starts to pick up.

"So how do you think the boys are going to do at next weeks match?" Rebecca asks Roy.

"They better kick their fucking asses." He says.

"How's Isaac's injury?" Keeley asks you.

"He should be fine to play next week. Luckily he didn't tear anything in his knee so I worked on him throughout the week to try and strengthen it so he should be good to go." You say.

"Well that's a relief." Rebecca says.

You go to speak but your words die on your lips when you feel a foot drag up your leg. Looking across the table at Rebecca, she's resting her chin in her hand and looking at you as if she's not teasing the shit out of you right now.

"Are you okay, love?" She asks.

"Yup. All good." You say as you take a sip of your drink.

Her foot climbs higher and pushes your legs apart a little and you try to not choke on your drink. Thank god Roy and Keeley started talking about something else so they don't see you struggling.

The waitress comes over with your food and you feel Rebecca's foot pull away and a wave of relief washes over you. The four of you start eating and just as you're about to take a bite her foot begins stroking your leg again. Looking at Rebecca she has a smirk on her face and you watch as she slowly brings her fork to her mouth and wraps her lips around it before pulling it away. You take a sip of water when you feel your face flushing. This woman can breathe in your direction and immediately fluster you.

"So how has working out with Roy been?" Keeley asks you,

"It's been really good, he's been kicking my ass."

"You needed it." He says.

"Okay, listen-"

"That wasn't a question."

"Such a prick." You laugh.

"Why have you been working out so much, love?" Rebecca asks.

"I don't know, I like it. Especially since I have full access to a gym at work I mean, why not?"

"You have certainly gotten stronger over the last few weeks." She says as she reaches across the table and squeezes your bicep. She's subtle about it but you can feel her drag her nails across your skin as she pulls away.

"Thanks." You sputter and try to cover it with a sip of your drink.

Throughout dinner Rebecca keeps catching your eye, maintaining eye contact when she takes a bite of her food, watching you squirm when her foot grazes the inside of your thigh. She drives you crazy the entire night.

The waitress brings out dessert and Rebecca maintains eye contact with you once more as she takes a scoop of her dessert and eats it.

"Here." She says. "Try it."

Rebecca picks up a spoonful and reaches across the table and feeds you. She slips the spoon between your lips painfully slow and pulls it out at the same pace, not once breaking eye contact. You let out a small moan and try to play it off as if you're moaning about the dessert. Keeley and Roy don't seem to notice but Rebecca's eyes flash with lust for a moment.

She reaches across the table again and drags her thumb across your bottom lip, wiping away some of the dessert left behind.

By the end of the night you're squirming, the heat between your legs is damn near unbearable and she knows it.

You say your goodbyes to Keeley and Roy and climb into the car. Rebecca pushes the button to pull up the privacy divider between the front and back seats of the car and looks at you with lust in her eyes. You try and make a move but she stops you pinning you back against the seat. A pathetic moan leaves your lips and she smirks.

"What's the matter, love?" She says as her lips ghost the shell of your ear.

"Rebecca." You pant.

"Yes love?" She asks before placing soft, open mouthed kisses on your neck. "What's the matter? Got you all worked up?"

"Yes." You groan.

"So easy to fluster."

"Please."

Rebecca cups your core and presses her fingers against your soaked panties.

"All this for me?" You nod your head.

She pulls her hand away and you whine.

"Don't worry my love, when we get home I'll have you whining for all of the best reasons."

#willalove75 #hannah waddingham #rebecca welton #rebecca welton x reader #wlw fanfic #rebecca welton fanfic #ted lasso fic #ted lasso

[its-time-to-write]

in love with an idea

This is a very, very, v e r y minor study in the way that Jamie handles his sexuality, and the fact that sometimes it seems he thinks his only value comes from being sexy and playing football. And the fact that sometimes, one night stands are crap even if they feel good. It happens. Especially if you go home with someone wishing they were someone else. Anyway, I have another fic in the works, should be posted soon. I’ve been absent because I’m writing a long one that will never ever see the light of day because it is way too self indulgent. As if this next one isn’t going to be long and self indulgent as well. Thanks to all y’all who support my writing!! Those of you who leave comments/tags have my whole entire heart, and there is no such thing as too many comments. Special shoutout to @whimsical-roasting and @qquell bc you’re probably my biggest/most vocal supporters and I love you🥺🥺 Ok that’s enough words, enjoy the fic!

in love with an idea

Jamie feels like shit which is weird, because he doesn’t usually feel this way after hookups. He can tell you don’t notice because you just plop down on the locker room bench next to him and ask, “Did ya call your mum yet?” while grinning far too brightly. 

Jamie is going to throw up. You’re smiling at him and he’s going to throw up so he gets up and rushes out of the room without a word. He pretends that he left so fast that he didn’t see your grin fade. 

He’s headed to the pitch because that’s where he’s supposed to be anyway, but all he can think about is the fact that it should have been you in his bed last night. After all, it was your name that had been on the tip of his tongue all night. It was your face he kept thinking of, and your body he was imagining. 

The girl had left satisfied, knowing exactly what she had signed up for, but he still feels like he used her. It’s not her fault that he’s in love with you but took her home, and yet it feels bad anyway. He wonders why no one ever talks about the shitty side of one-night stands. He has a vague recollection of Roy saying something to that effect one time, but other than that, he’s in completely unfamiliar territory.

He throws himself into training with more vigor than usual, purposely running himself ragged. 

Meanwhile, you’re still on the bench looking stupefied. Isaac slides next to you in the spot Jamie vacated. 

He says, “You should probably check on him,” with his usual solemn gravitas so you nod and decide to do just that.

—

You don’t have time check on Jamie until after training. Ted has you running all around Nelson Road so you just barely catch Jamie in the parking lot. 

“Hey!” you call. “You alright?”

Jamie spins around, icon hat atop damp hair. “Yeah, sure, good, yeah!” he says, and now you’re absolutely positive that something’s wrong. You raise an eyebrow. 

“That totally sounds like something a completely alright person would say, but for some reason I don’t believe you. Is something wrong with your mum? Is that why you got all weird when I asked?”

“What?” Jamie says. “Oh. No. She’s good, yeah. She’s good. I did call her. Talked for a while, which was nice. Talked about this girl I like, actually.” 

The words are barely out of his mouth when Jamie wishes he could sink into the ground. Fuck his stupid rambling. 

“Oh?” you say, eyebrow still quirked. “That’s new.”

Jamie shrugs. “Yeah, it is,” he says and then his mouth betrays him once again as he continues, “I’m actually really nervous about talking to her.”

You laugh. That is utterly ridiculous, and you tell him so. “You’re Jamie fucking Tartt, Premier League footballer. People throw themselves at you every day and you eat all that attention up. Why is she so different? Hold on, are you blushing?” 

You laugh. He totally is, but he denies it. 

“Look,” he says. “She ain’t like a lot of people. She’s fucking…smart or some shit. Not that other people aren’t!” he continues, “But she’s just… different, like. She’s one of fucking… four people who are immune to my natural sexy glow.” 

The way Jamie says the word sexy is always interesting because he never used it comedically. It’s always inserted in some serious declaration of himself, as if that and football are the only points of value he believes he has. You wrinkle your nose. “How is that possible? No one is immune. Except maybe Roy. I heard he got his anti-Tartt vaccine boosted last week. Maybe it worked a little too well,” you say worriedly. 

“I dunno,” Jamie says. “She said she’s looking for someone smart and I don’t really think I fall in that category. All brawn on me, innit?”

He quirks a smile to mask this strange discomfort he has. You’re not used to seeing him anything less than confident. 

“Well Jaim,” you say after a beat, “as someone who is also looking for someone ‘smart,’ it really isn’t about IQ. It’s like… it’s like someone who actually talks to you and has interesting things to say. And is interested in learning, not just from me but from whoever and whatever. And someone who doesn’t talk down. Because, god,” you laugh, “I’ve been on so many dates that are just exhausting because all these smart people want to flex their knowledge instead of sharing it. It’s like a fucked-up power struggle. I never feel that way with you, y’know?”

Jamie tilts his head in a cocky go on type of way. 

There he is. 

You roll your eyes. “What I mean is, you actually listen to what I say and ask questions, and aren’t rude when I don’t understand something that comes easy to you. My corner kicks are getting better, by the way,” you interject. “Sunday evening practice is paying off.” Jamie comes over every Sunday evening to kick a ball around with you on the Richmond Green.

“Of course they are,” he grins. “Learning from the best, aren’t you?” You flip his hat off his head and catch it, returning his smile. 

“Just ask her out, Jaim. I’m sure it’ll be fine. And,” you add, “bring her round! Not enough footballer girlfriends around here.”

Jamie looks at you a moment, taking in the picture of you in Nelson Road’s parking lot, his cap on you head and a smile on your face that he made. 

“Right,” he says, then turns to walk to his car. He’s at the door when he turns and walks back. 

“Forgot something,” he says to your bemused expression. You point to his hat still on your head. 

“Nope,” he shakes his head. “That ain’t it. It’s you. You’re the girl. I talked to me mum about you because I think you’re fucking great. If I’m not your type, that’s alright, but fuck it, I just really fucking like you.”

He takes a step closer. “I’m going to kiss you, so now’s your chance to walk away.”

You don’t. 

You let him flip the icon hat backwards and cup your face in his hands, far more gently than you thought him capable of as he tips your head up to his. 

His lips are soft on yours, and you’re vaguely aware of the fact that Trent Crimm is walking by you, shooting furtive looks your way but you don’t care. 

“I think you’re fucking great too,” you reply when you finally come up for air. 

Jamie grins. “Wanna go on a proper date tonight? Been thinking about where I’d take you for ages. I can pick you up in an hour thirty.”

You smile. 

That sounds great. 

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

[saintblk]

*ೃ— INDULGENCE | ROY HARPER + KALDUR’AHM

warnings: foul language, drug and alcohol use, mfm intercourse, dubcon (reader is drunk + nonconsensual creampie), threesome, p in v, double penetration, manipulation of you squint, unprotected sex (use protection pls!), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, use of pet names (all gender neutral), roy x kaldur (established relationship), college au — gender neutral afab reader, considered to be black + thick

word count: 3.9k

note: RAH ITS FINALLY OUT. i been wanting to finish this for sooooo long:0 if there are any pronouns please don’t hesitate to let me know ! i proofread like three times but there is a chance that i may have missed something. lmk what you think! i might do a poly drabble/series if ppl really like it🙈i think this was more for me than anyone else but enjoy;3

had to repost cause it wouldn't show up in tags the first time:(

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT

YOU WERE OUT of your element — that much you knew. in your three and a half years of college, never had you been invited to a frat party and it seemed convincing yourself you weren’t missing out on much finally paid off. because you truly could not see the appeal of the environment before you. it was hot–no, humid. the entire house stunk of sweat, alcohol, weed, and something else you couldn’t quite put your finger on. the air was charged with hormones and filled with so much smoke you weren’t sure how there was enough oxygen. not to mention, the amount of times you nearly threw caution to the wind to fight the third guy who used the tight space as a reason to grope you.

it had to be a lie when people talked about how fun and crazy a party was. a ruse to rope other people in to make a big house feel like a small, stuffy room. the reason for your attendance that night and your very best friend was donning a screwface that went quite well with her dark red dress as her gaze stayed attached to the man who’d invited her. he had one hand wrapped around a bottle of beer, and the other around the neck of the girl he was sucking face with.

“i told you, he’s not serious about you.” you tried to reason with her over the loud music. “let’s just split and you can forget about him-”

“fuck that. i’m gonna stay and show him exactly what he’s missing out on,” she decided before eyeing the crowd of people. “you can chill, grab a drink or something.”

rolling your eyes, you make your way to the drink table and find mini bottles of tequila. packing several of the untouched bottles into your shoulder bag, you make your way to the more quiet, mellow staircase. finals had just ended; a reason for this raucous soiree, though you much rather spend the night and every night over the summer break locked up in your room, binging trash reality tv shows. you supposed you couldn’t expect everyone to be like you, to not want to spend their night trying to get around multiple people all standing in the same hot room, acting on impulsive desires and liquid courage.

you blew a raspberry and scanned the room once again, catching sight of your friend grinding on a man you hadn’t seen before, and you were sure she hadn’t either. certain you were going to have to keep an eye on her so she didn’t get into anything potentially dangerous, you leaned your head against the nearest wall and got comfortable. eventually, you’re joined by a couple who decided the steps behind you were as good as the privacy of a bedroom. you could hear the man whispering empty promises to his female companion. how he was serious about her and only her, with each one of her complaints shushed so he could continue his inebriated ramblings. after downing three shots and placing the empty bottles on the floor beside you, escape came in the form of the 6’3 hunk who happened to be in your poli-sci class. kaldur’ahm smiled warmly at you, taking note of the exhausted look on your face.

“are you enjoying yourself?” he asks anyway, standing in front of you so as to not block the staircase.

with a scoff, you look down at your perfectly manicured toes in a pair of heels you couldn’t help but think were being wasted on this event. it wasn’t as though you could ever look kaldur in the eyes anyway. kind soul that he was, he still managed to intimidate you with his build and height, and the only time you could appreciate his god-given looks were from afar when he wasn’t looking at you.

“i’d literally rather be anywhere else…” you drawl while fishing another nip of tequila out of your bag.

though you can’t see it, too busy avoiding his gaze, he feels bad. despite living in the very house, he could never really keep his friends from throwing insanely wild parties that always ran too long.

“would you like to join me upstairs? roy thinks it’s quieter there but i don’t think there’s a difference.”

a smile comes over your face, and without meaning to, you let your eyes flick up towards his. when he offers his hand you don’t see a reason why you shouldn’t take it until you catch sight of your friend, pressed up against the guy she was so ready to swear off not even an hour earlier. you open your mouth to argue that you should keep an eye on her only for her attention to shift for a moment towards you. the thumbs up she gives you is encouragement enough, and you keep yourself from rolling your eyes when you place your hand in kaldur’s.

he guides you through the bodies littered up the staircase and standing around the rooms none of the guests were allowed to go in. his skin is warm and surprisingly soft and you inwardly swoon when he squeezes your hand. you find that the once booming music becomes a low thump on the walls, matching the bass when he leads you into his room. still loud, but not enough to egg on the headache plaguing you. sure enough, roy greets you with one of his lopsided smirks while he busies himself with rolling a fat blunt. the involuntarily bashful smile you respond with reminds him of the reason why you’re really there and why kaldur had gone downstairs in the first place.

“hey pretty,” he greets with a quick once over of your figure. “you look like you been drinkin’.”

you shake your head and fiddle with your fingers, anxious under his gaze while he lights his blunt. “m-mm, i’m fine.”

“do you have to smoke in here?” kaldur griped as he approached the redhead.

“what, you gonna be mean to me in front of company?” roy shot back smoothly. “i’ll even let you take the first hit since you clearly need to relax.”

kaldur waves him off and bats away the hand that reaches towards his waist as he walks towards the couch on the other end of the room. you take the seat beside him and take out your phone to let your friend know where you are and to call when she’s ready to leave.

“be careful,” you hear roy warn. “kal gets pouty when he’s tired.”

“i’m not tired and i don’t get pouty,” he bites out much to your amusement.

“no? you weren’t just being fussy about wanting me to get ready for bed?”

fed up, kaldur simply sinks in his seat and crosses his arms over his chest. while thinking about how adorable their dynamic was, you notice roy’s gaze lingering on you again. it was no secret that he was just as attractive as kaldur and when the fact began dawning on you is when you began reconsidering your presence in their bedroom.

“you don’t look too happy yourself.” he gets up and plops down on the other side of you. “what’s got you down, sugar?”

your lips twist as you recount your night up until then. somehow, you suppose under the influence of alcohol, you don’t seem to notice or care how close the two men have gotten. roy’s arm found its way on the back of the couch and kaldur was sitting close enough for his knees to be knocking against your own. the cannabis from roy and the sweet vanilla just barely filling your nose from kaldur give you a heady feeling, the mixture of their scents nearly as intoxicating as the liquor in your system. somehow it’s just as hot as it was downstairs and your heart is starting to thump erratically in your chest.

“your friend is an asshole-”

“don’t say that.” you chide just before emptying another bottle. “she just really likes this guy.”

“she abandoned you,” kaldur joins.

at the thought, your shoulders slump and your eyes get just a little glazed. with a maudlin mind, you can’t help but consider their words ringing true. did she really care about you? about the fact that you were extremely uncomfortable at parties? social butterfly that she was, couldn’t she have taken one of her other, far outgoing friends? you sniffle a little, overemotional and perhaps a lot more drunk than you thought you were. but they’re both there to place strong hands on your thighs in consolation; squeezing and rubbing maybe a little too close to your hips, you’re too far gone to care. perhaps part of you knew what they were up to, how sleazy they both really were. but to have been wanted by two very hot guys at the same time was a bit uplifting in the moment. you turn to roy first who moves your braids back over your shoulder.

“y’know, we can make you feel better.” he husks and caresses your cheek.

you can feel kaldur’s breath fanning against your ear now as he hums an agreement. it sends goosebumps down your arms and an insatiable fire up your spine. a soft, breathy moan slips past you, encouraging him to press his lips against your throat and draw out more of your saccharine sounds. the upturn of roy’s lips against the corner of your own is what makes you close your eyes in anticipation. your eyebrows are furrowed and your hand is clutching desperately to his shirt, he’s sure there’ll be strains and wrinkles on the fabric. but he thinks it’s all worth it to see you practically on the edge of tears for a single kiss. when he finally does kiss you, it’s a quick, soft peck that forces a whine to erupt from you.

kaldur rolls his eyes at the sight, “stop toying with her. give her what she wants.”

“nuh-uh,” he snickers. “not until she asks for it. tell me what you want, y/n.”

“w-want you to kiss me,” you gasp when he nips at your jawline teasingly. “plea-please, roy.”

“so well-mannered,” he hums sarcastically. “think you should be rewarded for that?”

you nod frantically, just as he wraps a hand around your throat. you watch him wet his lips, following the movement of his tongue before he starts to pull you closer. roy kisses you once, then again, and finally presses the fervent kiss you so richly deserve on your waiting lips. you moan approvingly as you lean into him. all the while, kaldur’s exploring hands dance towards the jewel between your thighs. unconsciously, you spread your legs further and further until he has his hand up your dress, palm pressed up against and cupping your heated center. your moans are muffled through roy’s mouth, as you buck your hips to feel something, anything.

“so needy…i’m willing to bet you haven’t been touched in so long.” kaldur husks, slipping a finger past your damp panties to rub your throbbing clit.

a choked mewl fills the room as delirium begins to seep into your brain. he lets you grind against his fingers, frenzied and fiending for release. roy pulls away from your lips in time for kaldur to slide two fingers into your sopping cunt. the both of them relish in the sounds they’re drawing out from you while they work on marking up your neck. your senses go into overload when another set of fingers begin rubbing on your clit again. between the tongues dancing on the skin of your neck, clashing with one another every so often, and the assault on your lower lips, you’re being driven crazy by the two men.

your climax arrives like a wave crashing against your body, incapacitating you and forcing your every thought to be nothing but fuzz and static. the party has long since flitted from your worries; it’s simply you and two people who want you more than anything in that moment. the garble of nonsense you spew makes roy chuckle as he plants hot kisses up your jaw. kaldur is still going with slower strokes despite the way you burst on his fingers.

“look at the mess you made,” he breaths and pulls his fingers into your view. they’re coated in your essence, though neither of them seem to mind when roy tugs his hand towards his mouth.

you watch with glossed eyes, filled with arousal as he licks kaldur’s fingers clean. the lewd act has you clenching your thighs together to sooth the returning ache between them, only garnering kaldur’s attention once again. with a hum, he cups your chin with the hand covered in a light sheen of saliva and turns you towards him.

“was that not enough?” he inquires, gazing deep into your eyes and you can’t find it in you to look away. “do you want more, angel?”

all you can do is nod before leaning up for a kiss. his lips are soft and sweet and make you feel like you’re floating in the air. while kaldur’s tongue delves into your mouth, roy is helping shift you on the couch. you let them move your body as though you were nothing but their plaything, and soon enough you’re seated in kaldur’s lap with your back pressed against his broad chest and your legs spread. with your head twisted to continue locking lips with him, you don’t notice roy kneel on the floor in front of you until his hands come in contact with your thighs again.

simultaneously, kaldur’s hands flit from your waist up to your chest. tugging the straps of your dress down and allowing it to pool at your waist, he cups both your braless mounds and begins to massage them. your panties are removed next, abandoned somewhere behind roy. both you and kaldur pull away to watch roy press hot, open mouth kisses on his way up to your pearl. his hair tickles the skin near your knee but that’s soon forgotten when his lips come in contact with your labia. your mouth falls open with a sharp gasp, and for a moment roy considers drawing this out. but just the sight of you, in his boyfriend’s arms, pretty, and waiting and so very patient, he doesn’t think he could deny you of what you want any longer.

his tongue laps vigorously at your clit, only moving down to fuck your hole every so often. he groans at the taste of you, determined to make you cum again so he could share the taste with kaldur. your mind struggles to focus between the pair’s actions, only to allow pleasure to take over and blanket your senses. while roy indulges in your soaking cunt, kaldur pulls your head back so take your lips into his own.

you moan into his mouth with each of roy’s actions but kaldur doesn’t mind. he swallows your lewd noises, snaking his tongue past your teeth and seeking out your own pink muscle. calloused fingers tweak and twist your nipples before one hand begins to slide downwards. with your ankles locked behind roy’s head, the ginger struggled to feast the way he intended to. that was the case until kaldur spread your pussy lips for him, giving him full access to every part of you.

when your second climax approached, roy didn’t bother slowing down. he nipped and sucked on your clit relentlessly, watching with gleaming eyes as you were overcome with an earth shattering orgasm. you shook and thrashed in kaldur’s arms, whining as roy continued to abuse your overstimulated parts.

only when he needed to breath did roy come up from between your thighs. reaching up past you, he cupped the back of kaldur’s head and pulled him down. you watched hazily as the two met for a sloppy kiss. the taste of you on roy’s tongue found its way onto kaldur’s taste buds. he groaned, deep and low before delving his tongue into roy’s mouth.

“taste so good,” kaldur mumbled before pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

“think you’re ready for more?” roy inquired as he gets up and rids himself of the white marina he’s wearing. you nod dazedly much to his disappointment. “use your words, pretty.”

“yes, wan’ more.” you blurt, “please gimme more.”

kaldur leans into your ear, lips brushing against the cartilage. “get on your hands and knees, angel.”

you do as he says without hesitation. before long you find yourself looking up at an equally naked kaldur while roy, who also stripped himself of the rest of his clothes, inspected your backside. a wad of spit fell from his mouth onto your swollen sex and his hand followed to spread his saliva. just as a moan fell from your mouth, you felt something prod against your bottom lip. looking up, you noticed kaldur easing his girth into your mouth. quickly, you began to suckle on his tip before he continued pushing into your mouth. he filled every crevice, pushing past your uvula and hitting the back of your throat.

“you can take us both, can’t you?” he asks, so soft you can’t bring yourself to do anything but hum an agreement.

as if on cue, roy’s thick mushroom head eased it’s way into your cunt. he parted your gummy walls, suppressing the noises building up in the back of his throat. your walls were quivering and warm and sucked him in like you wanted him to stay inside you forever.

“fuck…” he grunted, eyes closed and eyebrows furrowed. “f-fuck baby you’re so tigh-tight.”

incapable of replying, all you could do was let your eyes roll back and take both men. ecstasy enveloped all three of you, encouraging you to chase the high you all desperately craved.

so when roy’s hips began to stutter and his movements slowed down, you took it upon yourself to fuck him back. it only proved to help when kaldur found purchase on your braids and began thrusting into your mouth. the recoil from his movements were strong enough to help you send your backside into roy’s hips.

“bein’ so good.” kaldur grunted over you only to pull himself out of your mouth. “but i need you to look at me, angel.”

while he slapped himself against your lips, you managed to drag your eyes back up at him. the pleased hum he let out only sent you further into an oblivion you didn’t want to find your way out of. the simple thought of being able to satisfy both men seemed to take you to rapture and beyond.

with kaldur in your throat, all that told of your orgasm was the garbled noises you made around him and the way you clasped around roy. he groaned as you gushed around him, soaking the both of your thighs and the couch underneath you.

“already?” he snarked, pulling out as kaldur’s movements slowed. “what d’ya think kal — should we give y/n a break?”

“not yet; not until i get to be inside them.”

sea green eyes bore into your’s, making the depth of your abdomen twist with need. the hand that held your braids slid down to caress your face and ran a thumb over your bottom lip.

“you’ll let me do that, won’t you angel?”

an eager nod soon has you trapped between two large bodies, incapable of remembering what exactly led up to this. with kaldur below you, holding your legs open, he pushed into you until he was bottoming out. roy, who stood before you, took a step closer and placed his tip against kaldur’s shaft. the red headed man slowly worked himself into you.

“w-wait, i can’t–” you squealed once it dawned on you what roy was attempting, and proceeded, to do. “s’too much!”

“‘course you can, baby.” he grinned down at you. “y’said you could.”

the stretch came with a slight burn since your body had never experienced any of this before. your innocence was what previously kept you from indulging in desire, and what now allowed you to welcome it all the same.

you could barely breath as they lay inside you, granting you the chance to get used to the feeling. surprisingly, disregarding all the patience he possessed, kaldur was the first to move. with an unrelenting grip on your thick thighs, he thrust upwards, eliciting a groan from roy and a gasp from you. roy was quickly following suit, he and kaldur both eager to please you and one another.

you were soon reduced to a mess of nonsensical noises and high pitched whines. every touch sent a wave of heat through your body; it was too much and not enough all at once. sweet release came and left and came again, but it did not stop both men from fucking you like they were possessed. in that moment you were nothing but an object to them; a hole for them to use that happened to have a pretty face. and you were treated as such.

you had past the point of fucked dumb, incapable of doing anything but wailing from the growing intensity of every orgasm that followed. tears danced down your cheeks and attempting to form the simplest thought was fruitless. all that remained in your mind was the everlasting feeling of lust and gratification.

trapped in hedonism, both your companions increased their relentless pace. each of them were far too occupied chasing their own highs to worry about you. roy, who had wrapped a hand around your neck, kept his eyes closed as he approached release. meanwhile, kaldur nipped and sucked on your neck while thrusting into you from below. his grunts and deep groans reverberated against your skin, eventually filling your head along with roy’s guttural sounds.

“taking us so well,” kaldur praised in your ear. “ we should keep you around, huh? you want that angel?”

after receiving nothing but whines and moans in response, kaldur canted his hips and ground himself up into you. you shrieked in ecstasy, gushing around both men for the nth time. the only difference however was the feeling of roy pulsing against both you and kaldur.

the latter shifted his attention to the red head, “make them ours roy. cum in–”

your protests cut him off and came in the form of incomprehensible babbles that made it all the more easier to ignore. leaking from his tip, roy thrust inside once more and emptied his load inside you. kaldur was prompted to do the same, biting down on the nape of your neck as he finished off with one final stroke.

even when they pulled out, you still felt filled to the brim. the cum slowly seeping out of you was testament to that feeling. the two men who had just finished rearranging your insides stood over you, looking down at their work. their sexual magnum opus lay on their couch, breathing heavily and still attempting to come down from several orgasms.

kaldur took it upon himself to get you cleaned up and into some fresh clothes while roy returned to smoking his blunt.

“should we drive them home?” he inquired, watching kaldur gently wipe the tears off your face. “or were you serious about keeping them around?”

“have you ever known me to joke about anything, roy?”

chuckling, roy took one final drag from his blunt and proceeded to join them in bed after putting it out. you soon find yourself pressed between their bodies once more. this time it’s in an embrace that warms your aching muscles as you surrender to lethargy.

2023 ©️ all rights reserved by saintblk (me) | do not copy, repost, promote, or translate any of my works without my permission

#roy harper x reader #kaldur x reader #young justice x reader #young justice smut #kaldur smut #roy harper smut #kaldur x black reader #roy harper x black reader #collection :: yj #꒰ slim’s works ꒱

[littleredwing89]

PRINCE OF GOTHAM - PART 1

PRINCE OF GOTHAM

CEO!Jason Todd x Reader

Warnings – Language. NSFW Smut. 

A/N: Please remember this is a revised version of “The Intern” but swapped out Roman for Jason. Some other characters are changed too, hopefully you’ll enjoy the cameos etc. I’ve tweaked parts of the story here and there so it suits better. I hope you all enjoy xoxo much love. Let me know if you want a tag list / to be on the tag list.

*** 

Roy lounged back in his leather office chair and smirked as Jason sauntered in without knocking. “And what do I owe this displeasure?”.

“Just wanted to see how things were going, you know, it is my company after all”, Jason glanced around the office. Roy liked to keep things minimal, although the addition of the little cactus was new. An almost feminine touch. He made a note to question him about that later. He’d never known Harper to take an interest in plants before.

As the office door closed behind him, arguing erupted outside, barely concealed by the walls. He raised his eyebrow and looked through the window seeing a short, stumpy man in a suit become red and blotchy in the face.

“I don’t know why we still pay that moron”, Roy grunted and waved his hand to the disagreement outside. The stubby man, Eric, was tugging at his tie as a more feminine voice dressed him down confidently.

“I can have HR carry out a performance review if you’d like”.

Jason glanced out between the blinds and saw you storm around one of the desks, straight into his vision, hands flying violently as you spoke. He swallowed as his eyes followed you; a tight fitting grey pencil skirt paired with a wine silk blouse. He raised an eyebrow in interest. Your hair was pinned up in a messy bun, strands falling down to frame your petite face. Lips painted a deep shape of rouge. You laughed venomously before pointing to one of the free standing boards, a colourful diagram adorning it. Eric shook his head and turned away, only infuriating you more. Jason smirked, enjoying the little show.

“She’s been here 5 minutes…down boy”, Roy chuckled and grabbed something from his printer. Scrawling his signature across the bottom.

“You say that like you'd wait even 30 seconds”, Jason scoffed, a little embarrassed and slightly impressed at how well Roy could read him.

Roy looked up from the papers and grinned, “I give at least 3 to 5 working days as a courtesy before I pounce”.

Jason felt his stomach churn at the thought. He spun around quicker than he would have liked and raised an eyebrow, “Oh...so you’ve tried then?”.

“What’s it to you if I have?”, Roy grinned, noticing Jason’s reaction.

“I want to see if she has taste”, Jason quipped and turned his attention back to the escalating discussion outside. Hoping to hide the pink tinting his cheeks. You’d now dragged the whiteboard across to Eric, jabbing at one of the PowerPoint slides before rubbing your temples in frustration.

Roy scoffed to hide the laughter before getting out of his seat strolling across to Jason to hand him the signed papers, “You know, she’s the woman that saved you 500 grand last week”.

Jason frowned upon taking the paperwork from Roy, “I don't remember hearing about it”.

The white haired man shrugged to the shouting, “Take a wild guess why, Todd”.

“He played it as his own victory?”, Jason’s gaze fell back to you. Eric was crossing over your work on the board with an ugly red marker, sneering at you. Jason felt his temper surge at the blatant disregard for your hard work and effort. His brow creased at the unfamiliar emotions swimming in the back of his mind.

Roy slapped him on the shoulder suddenly, a dark grin on his lips, “Oh! So you do have a brain”.

Jason rolled his eyes, rolling his broad shoulders, “Contrary to popular belief, yes I do”.

Roy laughed deeply as he watched you with Jason through the window, your irritation bubbling over as you repeatedly jabbed your pen to the graphs on the board, voice becoming louder with every word, “She’s a real pistol”.

“I can see”, Jason hummed appreciatively as you stalked off towards the coffee room, the skirt pulling tight against you, highlighting the curve of your ass perfectly. 

Eric looked flustered as the rest of the staff in the room stared at him following the heated exchange. He shouted something to them, causing them all to bow their heads behind their computer screens. Roy grumbled something under his breath Jason couldn’t make out. Eric turned towards Roy’s office and stiffened when he saw both men watching him. Jason smirked at him, giving a subtle wave before turning to Roy, “You know what, I will send HR down this week to investigate”.

***

You checked yourself in the mirror of the elevator again, nerves making your stomach somersault. The dress had been an extravagant splurge but the moment you laid your eyes on it, you knew you had to have it. It was a floor length, backless crimson dress with a daring thigh split. You ran your hands down the front of the fabric, the satin soothing your clammy palms.

Your hair was curled loosely and draped down your bare shoulders, lips a dark red to match your dress. Briefly, you hoped, you hadn’t gone overboard with your outfit. The invitation had said ‘formal wear’. The elevator dinged and before you could think too much, the doors slid open revealing you to the party. You heard someone gasp in the distance and that’s when the entire room turned to your direction.

You were used to people staring at you in the office because of your fiery attitude but this was different. You felt your skin prickle. An odd sensation driving through your nerves. Everyone had paused to stare at you as you stepped into the room. The music faded in the back of your mind, replaced by the hammering of your heart. You straightened yourself and strode into the room with all the false confidence you could muster.

His eyes. Jason. You could feel them burning more than anyone else’s. He’d stopped mid sentence when you entered the room, cigarette left smoking in his hand. He was surrounded by his executive team, including your area manager, Mr Harper. Whilst you felt heat spreading across your cheeks, you felt somewhat pleased you’d stunned your loud mouthed CEO into silence. Roy had slapped Jason on the back, a dark smirk on his face drawing his attention away from you. He glared at Roy before taking a long drag from his cigarette, continuing with his conversation as though nothing had happened. The group of suited men dissolved into barks of laughter.

You needed a large drink. Preferably a strong one too if you wanted to last the night. You headed straight towards the bar, as fast as your towering heels would allow.

———

Jason patted one of the executives on the shoulder, making his excuses before striding across to you as you leaned against the bar, your bare back on full display. He swallowed thickly, you looked majestic under the glittering fairy lights draped around the room.

He settled next to you at the bar, clearing his throat before speaking, the deep timber of his voice rattled your core, “I think...I've seen your face before”.

You rolled your eyes at the terrible opening line before turning to face him. The black suit fitted him perfectly, showcasing his broad shoulders, his blood red tie knotted tightly against the collar of his crisp white shirt.

“Probably during one of your lonely nights over a bottle of chardonnay”, you lazily waved your hand at him.

Jason smirked at your attitude and laughed, “You think I’m chatting you up princess?”.

You pursed your lips together, nodding, “It certainly sounded that way to me and I really don’t know what else you would do after swaggering away from that crowd just to talk to lil’ old me”.

“I simply had to talk to the woman who stunned the room into silence”, his smooth voice sent shivers over your skin, oozing charm. You imagined it worked on every woman he encountered. It almost worked on you.

“Very smooth Mr Todd”, you teased and tried to wave the bartender down with no luck. You sighed and cursed under your breath.

Jason clicked his fingers, drawing the attention of the waiter immediately, “Two large glasses of Malbec please”, he winked at you when the bartender reached to the top shelf of liquor, “I know who you are”, Jason gave you a devilish smile, “You’re the 500 grand woman”.

“Y/N”, you winked and wiggled your finger at him in a joking fashion. The grin on your face widened when the wine was set down in front of you both. The rich, spicy smell drifted up your nose.

You dug your hand into your purse but Jason shook his head, “It’s on me”.

“Oh”, you clicked your tongue playfully, “You’re too kind”, you smirked at him.

Jason wouldn’t admit it, but he knew exactly who you were. He hadn’t been able to get you out of his mind since he laid his eyes on you last month. Your spitfire attitude had spread through the office and you’d made quite a name for yourself. Cutting impressive deals and smart talking anyone who tried to shoot you down. The only thing Jason had lacked was an opportunity to talk to you.

He held up his glass of whiskey and looked down at you, his dark eyes sweeping over your face, “A toast”, he leaned down towards you, his hot breath fanned across your cheek, “To Y/N”, his voice dipped lower, a gravelly rasp, “The most beautiful, enticing woman in the room”.

“You forgot to add smart”, your voice sounded more breathy than you intended, giving Jason an idea of the effect he was having over you.

He winked, “The most beautiful, enticing, smart mouthed woman in the room”.

“To me”.

You clinked your glass with his before bringing it to your lips, taking a long sip. The alcohol burnt your throat in the best way, the deep red of your lipstick staining the rim of the glass. Jason couldn’t help but stare at the smudge, wondering if it would stain as nicely on his skin.

Downing the drink in one, Jason placed the glass on the bar, the bartender rushed over quickly, leaving the bottle of red wine next to Jason before scurrying off. Your tongue darting across your lips, savouring the taste of the luxurious drink.

Jason watched you closely, you felt alive under his burning stare, “I hope you’re enjoying working for The Iceberg Lounge”.

“Of course, Sir”.

He swallowed the growl threatening to escape his lips. The way you said it. The way your lips wrapped around the word Sir, how easily it rolled off your tongue. He took a deep breath. You riled him up with little to no effort.

You glanced around the gala, almost everyone from The Iceberg had turned up. Hundreds of people were braying in the room. Dancing, drinking, laughing and screeching. The music thudded in the background, the bass thrumming through your body. You had to hand it to Jason, he certainly knew how to host a company party. Well a man in charge of a chain of bars should really.

Jason gripped the bottle of wine swiftly, “It's getting rather lively in here princess, fancy a drink and a smoke on the balcony?”.

You nodded, grabbing your clutch from the bar. You sashayed through the crowd easily, Jason following close behind you. Slinking through the throes of people, you smirked to yourself. You were playing with fire but, you had to admit, you liked the heat that came with it.

———

When you stepped out onto the balcony, the cool night breeze whipped around your body, nipping the bare skin on show. You shuddered slightly, looking up at the night sky. You were high enough that you could finally see the stars. They twinkled innocently, making you smile to yourself.

Jason placed the bottle of red on a nearby table, looking across at you. You looked even more stunning under the midnight stars. He coughed deeply, working his way across to the railing you were leaning against, “I’m surprised that you came alone, I find it hard to believe you struggled to get a date”.

You turned to him, your chandelier earrings dangling in the breeze, they captured the starlight and flickered elegantly, “I like coming to these things alone”, you mused, a coy smirk on your painted lips, “I like to see who else has come alone”.

“Oh”, he inched closer, the soft brush of his suit jacket against your bare arm made you flush, “So you’re on the lookout?”.

“Maybe”, your fingers wrapped around the metal bar and you looked over the edge. The bustle of Gotham City never ceased to amaze you, even at this height. And there you were, gazing at it with its unofficial Prince standing next to you.

Jason grinned, letting a cool finger stroke down your upper arm, “I might be able to help with that”.

You smirked, looking up catching his heated stare, “Are you going to introduce me to one of your rich friends?”.

“Trust me princess, they’re not your type”, he scoffed, his eyes tracing down the neckline of your dress, mapping every inch of your tantalising skin. He noticed a faint sparkle of glitter on your skin, along with a subtle scent of vanilla invading his senses.

Moving away from the balcony edge, you stepped into his space, fingers grasping the end of his tie, playing with it gently, “And what is my type?”.

Jason felt an unmatched desire burning in his gut when your hands toyed with his tie. He took a deep breath before cornering you into the balcony railing. His eyes were hooded with lust, “I know exactly what it is”.

The bitter metal pressed into your lower back and you bit back the moan creeping up your throat, desperate to escape. You snaked your hand up his solid chest and straightened out his shirt collar, “Well don't keep me in suspense, Sir”.

It was taking all of his self restraint not to bend you over the balcony and rail you from behind, especially when you kept calling him Sir. His hands gripped the balcony bar behind you, knuckles white from the force. Jason smirked, his voice dropping several octaves, “I can show you instead princess”.

The heat from his body was addictive and you leaned into it without thinking, breath catching in your throat. His aftershave was intoxicating and you felt your mind spinning. Jason pulled back suddenly and offered you his hand.

You slipped your hand into his and bit your plump bottom lip, “People are going to see us leaving together”.

“So?”, Jason shrugged, “Then they know we're going to have some fun, aren't we princess?”.

You shivered, letting his words drip over you. Oh the night was yet to begin and your heart was thrumming with excitement. You secured your fingers through his and started to pull him back inside so you could both leave.

“Of course Sir”.

The second you were back inside, Jason’s free hand wound around your waist, guiding you towards the elevators. He leaned down, hot breath fanning down your sensitive neck, “Yours or mine?”.

You pressed the down button on the lift pad a little more enthusiastically than you would have liked. You felt him smirk behind you, fingers digging into your flesh.

“Mine”, you whispered before slipping into the cart when the doors sprung open.

———

The taxi ride back to your apartment was filled with subtle touches and increasing tension. You’d expected Jason to pounce on you the second you slid into the backseat but he didn’t, simply keeping one arm around your shoulder, the other resting on your exposed knee drawing feather light circles.

“Keep the change”, Jason muttered, shoving a wad of cash through the divider before helping you out of the car.

His hand pressed into your lower back, rough fingers scraping against your soft skin. You shuddered, excited to feel his touch exploring the rest of your body. You led him through the marble floored lobby and up a flight of stairs, stopping outside of your door to retrieve your keys from your clutch.

His lips pressed into the junction of your neck, tongue lapping over your skin which flushed rapidly under his touch, “Hurry up princess”. You felt Jason’s hand stroke up the front of your dress, palming your breast greedily before pinching your nipple.

You gasped at the rush of sensations, almost dropping your keys. The overload of his touches made you shudder and your eyes close, head dipping forward.

“Unless you want me to fuck you out here for everyone to see, I suggest you get that door open”, he growled, lips teasing the shell of your ear. His cock was straining against his suit trousers as he brushed it against your ass, groaning quietly.

Steadying your hands and your frayed mind, you slotted the key into your door, opening it as quickly as possible. Before you had any time to think, Jason crushed you against it, slamming it shut, his lips plastered to yours in a frenzied heat.

You moaned, the noise swallowed by his mouth as his tongue glided along yours. He could still taste the wine on your lips, mingling with your own sweet flavour. You dropped your bag and ran your hands up his chest, reaching his tie. Tugging it hard, you loosened it, enough to free him of it and start unbuttoning his shirt.

Jason smirked and sunk his teeth into your bottom lip, enjoying the gasp of pleasure you released. You looked into his darkened gaze, giving him a sweet innocent smile before pushing him back against the hallway wall. His eyebrows lifted in surprise but he allowed you control, stroking the pads of his fingers up and down your spine.

With the last button popped open, your nails dragged down to his belt, unfastening it slowly, licking your lips.

“I bet this is what you thought about didn’t you?”, you teased, unzipping his trousers and pushing them down, slowly, “Me on my knees for you, swallowing your thick cock”.

You palmed him through his boxers, watching his face twist with held back desire. Your lips curved and you dropped to your knees, eye level with his hard shaft.

Jason groaned quietly, fingers tangling in your hair, gripping tighter when your lips ghosted over the outline of his throbbing cock.

“Princess”, he warned huskily, voice laced heavy with lust.

The stings of pain as he pulled your hair shot down to your core, lighting up all of your nerves. You mewled and mouthed his tip, “I thought about it too…Sir”.

His hips rutted towards your face at your words and you grinned. You pulled his boxers down slowly, watching as his cock sprung free, slapping against his rippled abs. Your mouth watered at the sight, aching for him to sink into both your throat and pussy.

You nipped along his thick, muscled thighs, your lipstick smearing as you neared his pulsing length. He tensed with each bite and growled loudly, cock twitching with excitement.

“Princess if you keep-”, the words died in his throat when the wet heat of your mouth encased his cock in one swift motion. His head flung back, eyes scrunched shut at the feeling.

You purred around his shaft, tongue fluttering along the underside, tracing the vein there. Your hands stroked up and down his thighs as you worked your lips around him. Bobbing your head back and forth.

Each time you whined around him, the vibrations buzzed up his spine, sending his mind into a delirious haze of pleasure.

“Fuck!”, he grunted and fisted his hands into your hair, thrusting forward into your hot mouth.

The head of his cock nudged the back of your throat and you gagged around his cock, whimpering with desire. He caught his breath and looked down at you, eyes black with passion.

“Your lips look perfect wrapped around my big cock”, he smirked and thrust harder into your mouth, the wet, sinful sounds echoing in the hallway of your apartment.

Your pussy was soaked and each time you shuffled, the lace of your thong rubbed against your clit. The sensation made your skin flush but it wasn’t enough. You needed him.

Jason sucked his bottom lip between his teeth as he watched you swallow his cock. Your once perfect lipstick was smudged all over your mouth. Some stained his length. He groaned as you pulled back, tracing your tongue over the slit of his tip, hands kneading his inner thighs perfectly.

“Sir-please…”, your voice was raw as you spoke, wide eyes searching his, “I want you”.

He let his thumb run over your bottom lip, enjoying the way your lips wrapped around it without second thought, sucking softly. Jason dipped it down your chin before hooking it underneath, “Come here”.

You stood slowly, adjusting the strap of your dress which had fallen down your arm. Jason bracketed your hips and lifted you easily, letting your toned legs wrap around his waist. His lips moulded to yours, kissing you deeply. He could faintly taste himself on your tongue, the bitter arousal sparking through his body.

———

He carried you with ease through your apartment, occasionally banging into things along the way.

“Second d-door”, you moaned loudly when he bit your shoulder, “on the-the right”.

When you finally made it into your bedroom, after several stops along the way with Jason shoving you into the nearest wall, he dropped you down onto the bed.

You inched up the bedding slowly, watching him with hooded eyes as he stripped off the rest of his clothes. You made no show of hiding how much you admired his finely sculpted body. You licked your lips as his muscles flexed when he knelt onto the bed, grabbing one of your ankles.

“You’re wearing too many clothes”, he complained as his fingers travelled up your bare leg before finally reaching the hem of the dress.

“What are you going to do-”, the tear of fabric was loud in the room, Jason’s face was knitted with desire.

“Jason!!”, you scolded loudly as he continued to rip the flimsy material off your body, leaving you bare beneath him in a skimpy lace thong. You watched as he threw the offending material to the floor, his predatory gaze turning back to you.

“Get on your knees”, he commanded, ignoring your protests about your once beautiful dress, “Now”.

You wanted to argue, but the twisting coil in the pit of your stomach made you comply readily. You saw his pleased smirk before you rested your head against your forearms, pressing your ass and core to him.

He whistled appreciatively, slapping his hand over one of your cheeks. You moaned wantonly, muffling your cries into the flesh of your arm.

“Don’t you dare”, he growled and spanked you harder, your skin becoming hot and prickly, “I want to hear every sound you make”.

The thong you had on framed your ass perfectly, barely covering your glistening pussy. He smoothed two fingers through your silken core, sinking them into you slowly. Jason grunted when your walls tried to pull him further.

He removed his hand and spread your wetness along the back of your thigh, pushing your thong to the side. You whined in protest at the loss of sensation and pushed back. Jason gripped your hips tightly, halting your movement, “Tell me what you want princess”.

Heat crept over your flushed skin as he teased you, the tip of his cock sweeping through your sopping folds. You ignored his question and circled your hips, mewling his name.

He grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked your head back forcefully, teeth grazing the sensitive spot on your neck, “I said, tell me what you want”.

“Your cock”, your moans were depraved as you felt the overload of euphoria thrumming through your veins, “I want you to fuck me”.

Jason kissed the spot behind your ear, sucking a mark there before muttering, “Where are your manners princess?”.

You dug your nails into the sheets below in frustration before panting desperately, “Please Sir, please fuck me”.

He chuckled darkly behind you, tugging your hair again, before sinking his cock into your pussy fully. You cried out at the delicious sting as he stretched your walls with his thick girth.

Jason gave you no time to adjust before slamming his hips back into yours harshly, keeping your hair wound around his fist as he thrust into you.

The air was filled with the sounds of your debauched moans and his skin slapping into yours. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as your first orgasm hit you without any warning.

Jason cursed behind you as your velvet walls spasmed around his cock, pulling him deeper. His thrusts became shallow as he drove harder into you, working you through your climax.

Changing the angle of his thrusts, the head of his shaft slammed against your g spot repeatedly as he ploughed faster into your pussy. You sobbed his name into the bed sheets, gripping them tightly. You were certain your nails were going to rip through the fabric.

“That’s it princess”, he coaxed, tugging your hair back, “I know you’ve got another one for me”. He snaked his hand around your front, rubbing over your clit furiously.

“Jason!”, you cried his name loudly, vision going blank as he fucked you into another powerful climax. You felt his cock throbbing inside you as he fell into his own release, emptying himself in your tight core.

“Fuck!”, he rasped, releasing your hair and holding onto your hips as his thrusts slowed down to a complete still.

Pulling out of you, he groaned under his breath as he saw some of his seed drip down your folds. You collapsed down onto the bed, flat on your front, fighting to catch your breath. Jason dropped down next to you, relaxing on his back, his own chest heaving with deep pants.

You hadn’t been fucked like that in a long time. If ever. With the last of your energy, you rolled onto your side, a sly grin on your face, “Got time for another?”. Your fingers stroked down the grooves of his abs, following the dark trail of hair.

Jason grabbed your hand and brought it to his lips, nipping at the pulse on your wrist, “Definitely”.

He pulled you on top of him, his hands moving up to cup your breasts as your lips danced together again, drinking in each other. You knew he would only be here for the night but, you’d be damned if you weren’t going to make the most of it.

***

#jason todd smut #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd x you #ceo!jason todd x reader #red hood x you #red hood x reader #red hood smut #jason todd imagine #red hood imagine #jason todd x reader #red hood fanfiction #jason todd x reader insert #red hood x reader insert

[butchdiaz]

baby’s first 911 fic!!!!

i wish i said it better (poker fake dating spec 3 months late, 12k)

It’s 7am and Eddie needs to go home. The last 24 hours were non-stop. No big calls, but a million small ones, spread out just far enough to lull him into a false sense of relaxation, barely having time to lay his head on the pillow before the alarm blared through the station. He’s dead on his feet. He has to take a shower, maybe a power nap if he’s lucky, relieve Carla and take Chris to school in a little over an hour. Eddie needs to go home.

He parks outside Buck's loft shortly after 7:15, head reeling, replaying his conversation with Hen right before leaving the station on a loop.

“I'm just sick of it.” Eddie lets out a breath and bangs his head against the locker that he shares with Buck.

 Eddie has been on three dates this week, and it feels like enough for a lifetime. How do people do this for months? For years? He feels a little silly giving up after a week after making such a big deal of putting himself back out there, but maybe he's just not meant for this. The revolving door of women.

“Sick of what?” Hen asks gently.

“The – the small talk and the not knowing what they like and the uncertainty and the thinking twelve steps ahead because there’s no way I'm bringing anyone less than perfect into Chris's life so as soon as one thing is off I'm checked out and I have to smile and nod my way through the rest of the night and,” Eddie sighs, feeling suddenly much older than thirty one, “It's exhausting.”

“Haven't you only been on, like, three dates?” Hen raises an accusing eyebrow. It's a statement with a question mark on the end.

“Shut up.”

“I'm just saying, there are a lot of amazing women in LA. It seems kind of unfair to write off all of them after three dates.”

Eddie sighs, tries to imagine sitting across the dinner table from a woman and wanting to take her home. It’s a blank in his mind. A blurry supercut of perfect women and perfect conversation that never leads to anything more.

He can picture the alternative, though. Coming home to Chris and Buck playing video games on the couch, squeezing in beside them with a beer, listening to their fond banter – exactly like he’s done after cutting every date short this week.

It's easy. No small talk, no pretense, no body on high alert for red flags.

“I'm not writing off all women,” he grumbles, “I just need a break.”

“From dating? Or from women?” Hen asks, a thoughtful expression on her face. Eddie doesn't like that face. It means she knows something.

“Uh,” Eddie stutters, feeling suddenly like he's caught in a trap, “Aren't they the same thing?”

Hen shrugs, “They could be.”

Yeah, definitely a trap. Hen closes her locker, and swings her bag onto her shoulder, taking a second to choose her next words with care.

“Have you considered,” she says, “that it's not the dating that's the problem?”

“Um,” Eddie replies eloquently once more, feeling lost. Hen sighs, looking at him like he can't grasp basic math.

“Maybe it's the dating women, Eddie. Maybe that's the problem.”

And, oh. Hen thinks he should date–oh.

He just stands there, LAFD jacket hanging loosely off one shoulder, mouth slightly agape like a fish out of water. Hen turns to go, taking one last look back at Eddie from the doorway.

“Just something to think about,” she says, that damn twinkle in her eye, knowing that she’s caught him, hook, line and sinker, “if you never have.”

read more on ao3

tagging the homies <3

@911onabc @useramor @translasso @lucydonato @anxieteandbiscuits @danielsousa @ilostyou @jamietarts @anirudhpisharody @janesbennet @try-set-me-on-fire @carryingbears @saltedbutr @rivermp3 @diazly @goldenbcnes @roy-kents @poughkeepsies

#HI BE NICE TO ME IM SCARED #i hate sharing my writing gonna throw up #rbs + kudos + comments are so so so appreciated :') #911 #911 fic #buddie #abby is making #my fic

[eeveebitches]

collared. || Roman Roy || smut

Pairing: Sub!Roman Roy x F!Dom!Reader Summary: You have a gift for Roman, and he seems to enjoy it.

Word count: 2.496

18+ only! More under the cut ^^~

Warning(s): SMUT, aka 18+ only! Sub Roman, degradation, collar and leash stuff, coming untouched/in pants, aftercare

Summary: You have a gift for Roman, and he seems to enjoy it.

A/n: wrote this in a haze and now its here so yippee. this is also on my AO3 btw :D

_______________________

"Romes, c'mon, just open it!"

You watch him fumble around with the sleek, black gift box, his nervous laughter filling your living room. "Fuck off, I will, I'm just making sure this isn't a fucking bomb you put to kill me or something. You freaky assassin bitch," he jokes tensely, brows furrowing. In the dim lighting you can see his eyes glimmer in anticipation. "So this is like, what, a pair of panties for me to wear around the office or some shit? Or like, a cock ring? Do you like my dick so much you wanna marry it?"

All you do is shoot him a sharp look, but it's enough for him to raise his hands in defeat and start pulling at the tiny ribbon. "I guess romance isn't dead," he mumbles to himself as he struggles to pull at the ribbon's tail. With a roll of your eyes you snatch the box away from him, quickly untying the ribbon for him and handing it back to him just as swiftly.

"You can't do anything, can you?" There's clear humor in your tone, and yet you instantly pick up on the way his chest stutters and his forehead creases. All he can manage to let out is a small 'shut up' before he removes the top of the box, revealing your gift. You revel in the way he starts shifting in his seat, eyes glued to the content of the box.

Roman lets out something akin to a nervous chuckle, high-pitched and curt, as he grabs and raises the gift for you to see. "A collar? Seriously? That's like, majorly fucked up. My therapist is gonna hate your guts, because you just put his ass behind three years at the very least with this."

You watch him as he inspects the maroon red collar and its golden detailing. His hands are shaking as he messes with the buckle, despite his clear attempts at trying to still himself. "I even added a name tag for you," you hum out as you let your back meet the couch's pillows. Roman, on the other hand, shoots up, collar still in hand as he lets out an incredulous laugh.

"A fucking dog collar! You're one wicked bitch, y'know, seeing I told you about the cage shit. Or is this because I told you? Oh, fuck you, I shouldn't have told you that. I wouldn't have if I knew you were gonna do psychological mind games while my guard is, y'know, down."

He starts pacing around in front of you, the tag of his collar jingling as he waves his hands around during his rambles. "And I thought you were trying to be sweet, propose to my dick, have a Las Vegas wedding with it. I had little baby dick names ready for the fuckin' family I thought you were gonna build, but no, you target my childhood trauma instead. Real fuckin' classy, holy shit," he rambles on.

With each word he says, heat travels further and further from his neck up into his face, until his cheeks are left to burn brightly. Even in the darkness of night and dimness of your lights, you can pick up on just how��red he is in the face. Every laugh he lets out between sentences becomes shorter, bouncier. It's like you're watching him melt right in front of you.

"So?"

His head whips to look at you. "'So?' Fucking 'so?'"

You stand up and walk to stand only inches away from him, a light grin gracing your features. "So do you want me to put it on for you, or...?"

Roman blinks once. Then twice, and then another dozen times as he processes your words. "It's a yes or no question, Roman, c'mon. Even you should be able to answer that."

"I, uh... god, fuck you," he groans out, eyes squeezed shut before looking down to stare at the collar in his palms as he hides from your heated gaze. Weakly, he hands you it, not making eye contact as he explains. "You spent money on the stupid thing, I don't want you to be a whiny baby about wasted cash."

You let out an unconvinced 'sure' as you take the collar from him. With repressed glee you caress the intricate stitching in the leather. You'd be lying to yourself if you said you hadn't immediately thought about Roman the moment you laid your eyes on the thing, knowing how nice it'd look around his neck. "Alright, then kneel in front of me."

Roman's line of sight rises to meet your own. He doesn't say anything, and neither do you. It takes all but four seconds for him to awkwardly kneel down, his dress pants clearly restricting his movements to a degree. "Jesus, you actually kneeled down. Embarrassing," you tell him as you unbuckle the collar, reveling in the way he quietly heaves at your words.

All it takes is a one-two movement to unbuckle it. You dangle the now open collar in front of Roman, a sadistic fire lighting in the pit of your stomach. "D'you want your collar?"

Quietly, he gives you a small nod. Not enough. "I can't hear you, Roman. Do you want your collar or not?" you hiss. The noise he makes is something between a grunt and a moan, his puppy-like eyes glossed over as he stares at the collar. "Use your words, mutt."

"H-ahh, fuck, yes please."

That's what you wanted to hear, so you bend down and carefully wrap the collar around his neck, taking your time as you buckle it back up. You make sure to let your nails "accidentally" scratch his neck as you mess with the tightness of it, watching his expression from the corner of your eye. He doesn't seem to be turning purple, and you're able to wriggle your fingers between the toughness of leather and scratchiness of his stubbly neck.

You back away from him, taking in the sight in front of you. He's already panting, hands awkwardly resting on his thighs. You can see his fingers tremble with anticipation as he occasionally fumbles with the fabric of his slacks. And god, that collar. The red contrasts beautifully against both his pale skin and light blue blouse. You watch the name tag bounce around with each of Roman's quivers, golden and glimmering, borderline hypnotizing.

The veins on his neck are also clearly visible now, though it's more because of the restraint he seems to be practicing, rather than the tightness of the collar. He clearly wants to say something, anything, but he's biting his tongue for you. "You look so handsome with your collar on. Does it feel nice?" you ask, taking slow steps to stand only inches away from him.

He nods his head with a breathy 'yes' as he looks up at you. With a gentle hand you play with his hair, messing it up even more than it previously was. He's always disheveled when he visits your apartment, blouse already buttoned down and sleeves messily rolled up as he unceremoniously throws himself onto your couch.

You hum in response, fingers carefully tangling in his hair as you look down at him. "God, you're really pathetic. Kneeling down with a fucking collar on, how would people react to this? Fucking disgusting."

"I know," he groans out, squeezing his eyes shut in a weak attempt at calming himself. "Oh, you know?And yet you still act like a bitch in heat in front of me. Is the thought of everyone knowing how disgusting you are really that arousing?"

As he squirms and groans you grab the best part of your gift ever-so carefully from behind your couch's pillows, and before he can react you clasp the matching leash onto his collar. "Romes, is this alright?" you quickly ask, and with a quick nod from him you continue. You carefully pull at it, laughing as Roman loses his balance and grabs onto your legs for support. "Now you're a proper bitch! You're probably hard as a rock by now as well, aren't you, freak?"

He doesn't say anything to you, just lets his bottom lip stutter as he takes in raspy breaths, barely nodding his head in confirmation. "Go ahead and loosen your pants, mutt," you snarl at him. Yet again you can't help but laugh at him as he unbuttons- and zips his trousers with an extreme urgency.

"It's sad how needy you are, really. All I needed was a collar and leash, and you're letting me push you around as if you aren't a fucking Roy. I should really contact a gossip site about this or something, or your siblings even," you think aloud, and the way Roman lets out a pathetic whine at the words makes your head spin.

With a wicked grin you yet again yank at the collar. You pause for a moment, waiting for the confirmation that he's still okay, and when he lets out a broken hum of approval you happily tug at it once more.

Each tug at his collar sends a shot of ecstasy through Roman's body, a feeling he wouldn't be able to compare to anything else. No money, nor business validation, nor closed deal can copy what you're doing to him now- what you're giving him. "Are you already close, mutt? Don't tell me you're gonna finish in your underwear just because of a simple tug. You're not that much of a perverted freak, are you?" He lets out a whiny 'I am', and as you look down at his lap you grin at the sight. Pre-cum is steadily leaking through his navy blue boxers, his painfully erect cock twitching from underneath the damp layer of fabric. 

You let your face morph into one of pure disgust as you strengthen your grip on the leash, lightly tugging at it as you watch Roman fall apart. "You gonna cum in your pants, Roman? Like the disgusting pervert you are?"

It's clear that he's having a hard time getting his words out. The feather-weight friction of the fabric of his boxers rubbing against him with every tiny movement he makes clearly is too much for him. There's even a slight bit of drool on the side of his mouth, wetting his pretty pink lips and making them shimmer. "C'mon, Roman, tell me if you're going to cum and admit you're disgusting," you taunt. It seems to do the trick, as his eyes screw shut and his breath falters. His face is as flushed as can be, hair tousled and forehead glimmering with sweat. Just the way you like him. 

"Fuck, 'm gonna cum," he fumbles out, sharp breaths turning into light moans as you deliver a final, harsh tug to his leash.

He releases with a loud gasp, followed by a low, strung-out moan as he messes up his underwear. You watch him as he lightly convulses with pleasure, body hunched as he takes in each wave of sensations. As his breaths slow down, you bend down and unclasp his leash, holding his burning face in your hands as you tut.

"Such a filthy pup, making a mess. I'll clean you up, alright?" Roman simply hums in response, eyes still closed as he leans into your touch. "You did so well for me," you tell him, kissing his forehead as you unbuckle and remove his collar.

Carefully, you hold onto him and help him stand up. His knees wobble, and his pants sag down a little, but he's managing. He lets out a hoarse chuckle, finally making eye contact with you again. "Jesus fuck, woman."

You smile at the words. He's clearly alright, and that's what matters most. "I know, I know. So you liked the gift?" you ask as you lead him to your bathroom. He shuffles along awkwardly, clearly bothered by the sensation of still wearing his underwear. "Don't fuckin' ask me that, my god. And can you make sure to use the, uhh, the vanilla soap you always use? I'm sticky as shit with sweat."

"And other stuff," you quip, letting Roman sit on your toilet's closed cover as you start running a bath. "Oh please, like your panties aren't absolutely soaked because of me," he replies, adorning his usual, clownish grin. "Uh-huh, you're a total pussy slayer, Romes."

He puffs up his chest and smacks it with flat palms, letting out forced grunts in his ultra-dominant ways. "I'm a total fuckin' alpha. Seriously, how you let me parade around the office by myself is fuckin' beyond me. You should be more worried about all the women that flash their tits at me through the windows," he says, carefully watching the bath foam up as you pour the soap in. 

"Maybe I should then just get you a collar with my name on it, force you to wear it at work and stuff," you mumble, more to yourself than to him, but he softly groans at the thought. "Maybe you should," he mumbles back, nibbling at his bottom lip as he looks away from you. All you reply with is a light chuckle.

You hum at the smell of vanilla permeating in your quant bathroom. You use the same soap for every day showers, mostly because Roman has been gifting you it ever since he first caught a whiff of it. "Want me to help you undress?"

Roman shakes his head, pulling down his pants and undergarments and quickly making work of the buttons of his blouse. He clearly struggles, though, hands still trembling as he can't get the buttons through the slots. "C'mere, lemme do those," you tell him, and he doesn't hesitate to sit back down on the toilet lid and watch you, bent down to properly reach the buttons.

"Thanks, mommy," he jokes in a mocking, slightly more high-pitched tone. "Don't call me mommy as if you aren't totally into the idea of it," you retort, winning you a partial victory as he sputters before mumbling a weak 'shut up'.

You watch Roman carefully enter the bath as you remove your own clothes. You make sure to grab both his and your underwear and throw it in the laundry bin, before stepping in and sitting behind him, his back resting against your chest.

With a bit of similarly scented shampoo you carefully wash and massage his hair, humming a vague tune as you do so. He falls quiet, as he usually does in moments like these, simply letting his eyes flutter shut as you take care of him.

"Was everything alright tonight? Nothing too much?" He lazily hums, clearly in a state of tranquil as you pamper him. "It was perfect, you were really fucking hot, aaand I came my fucking brains out untouched. No complaints here." 

You laugh at that, and with a small kiss to his bare neck you let yourself get lost in him.

"You were really hot, too."

#succession #succession smut #roman roy #succession hbo #romulus roy #roman roy x reader #roman roy x you #roman roy smut #roman #roman roy x reader smut #roman succession #succession x reader #roman is a total sub in this #collar and leash #fyi not a pet thing #more like a dom/sub thing #female reader

[kelp-dreaming]

Talk Too Much

pairing: Kendall Roy x F!Reader

summary: You have a habit of rambling too much, Kendall finds a way to fix that.

genre: fluff!!!

word count: 1.3k

tags/warnings: swearing, that’s about it this time! 

a/n: based off the song “Talk Too Much” by COIN. Wrote this for a friend, probably not super show accurate since I haven’t watched it yet (i know i know) 

You never really knew when to shut up. You’ve always been a talker; a nervous talker, an excited rambler, an angry babbler, the list could go on. And typically people like the Roy’s did not like being interrupted, but somehow they decided you were alright. At least Kendall, your boss, (not that he ever really acted like it) let it slide. 

You sat fidgeting with your dress, pinching and plucking at all the folds in the fabric. 

“Oh this always happens with this type of fabric,” you pouted, smoothing your manicured nails against your waist. One thing that was always a perk to being forced into these stupid things was that Kendall spared no expense to make sure you looked the part. What part? Who knows at this point. 

Your relationship with Kendall Roy was… unconventional, to say the least. Technically, you were hired as some kind of PR manager when shit hit the fan with him, which seemed to happen every twelve seconds. But that title was quickly forgotten and honestly, you just kind of became a paid personal assistant slash arm candy. Which, to be frank, was a lot more difficult than one would think. 

But here you were, shifting back and forth against the luxurious leather seats and making sure you weren’t going to accidentally flash anyone as you stepped out. 

You continue to ramble, “--It’s just like, why does satin feel so nice, but also makes me feel like I’m a stuffed sausage. It’s really insane to think about the the ways women are–”

“Jesus,” Kendall finally groans, running his hands over his face, he turns and addresses you, “listen, you look great. Please, for the love of God, shut up for like 10 minutes.” 

Heat rises immediately in your cheeks, tinging your nose and tip of your ears with pink. You wring your hands together, rings clicking against each other. Your voice is soft, “I’m sorry.” 

You’re staring down at your knees, one exposed because of the slit that goes up the side of your dress, when you see Kendall’s hand grip your bare knee lightly, giving it a light squeeze. A bolt of electricity flies up your spine, and you do everything in your power to stop your body from breaking out into goosebumps, to no avail.

“Hey,” Kendall presses, trying to get you to look at him, “it’s alright, just– just relax.” 

You blink at him. He’s trying to comfort you. He’s never really been good at it, but the effort is enough to ease some of your nerves. You offer him a soft smile. His hand lingers on your skin, and you swear you can feel his thumb begin to rub small circles against your skin. But before you can know for sure, the car comes to a halt, signaling that you were at your destination. When he removes his hand, you suddenly feel very, very cold. 

“Well,” he sighs, “let’s get this fucking over with.” Looking back at you, he adds, a playful smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth, “If we do this right, we can probably get out of here in an hour.” 

He exits the limo, reaching back inside for your hand, which you eagerly take. You slide across and out of the limo, Kendall taking extra care to stand in front of you as you exit so that no paparazzi can get a “money shot” up your skirt. You smile up at him. 

“When did you become a gentleman?” You challenge, snaking your hand around his elbow. 

Kendall just offers you a small shrug, his face stony. It normally is when he’s around the press, so you’ve learned not to take it too personally. Expertly, Kendall is able to navigate you both through the crowd and into the gala. 

You’re immediately bombarded with loud music and lights. Oh, it’s one of those galas. Your grip on Kendall tightens as you enter the room. He brings his other hand over yours, giving it another reassuring squeeze. 

He leans his lips to your ear, “One hour, I promise.” Before he pries your hand off of him. You don’t mean to, but you pout. You pout. Like a silly fucking school-kid. 

“What am I supposed to do? What if I get lost? What if I get drugged here, Ken? What if you can’t find me and then you leave without–” 

He cuts you off by saying your name, his hands gripping your shoulders. Another round of goosebumps, as if this couldn’t get more embarrassing. 

“You’re fine, go grab a drink, shmooze, or– I dunno, sit in a fucking corner. But I will not leave you. I’ll find you, okay?” 

You bite your lower lip nervously, but after a moment you give him a nod. He releases you and disappears into the crowd. Letting out a shaky breath, and smoothing your clammy hands over your curves, you make your way over to the open bar. 

And that’s where you stay for nearly an hour. Scrolling on your phone, sipping your third Dirty Martini, when you feel a familiar presence. Looking up you see Kendall making his way toward you. He looks… relaxed. A very rare sight to see, especially lately. When he meets you at the bar, you can’t help but flash him a bright smile, relief washing over you. 

“Have you been here this whole time?” Kendall asks, before ordering himself a club soda. 

“Mhm,” you respond sipping at the liquor, suddenly feeling very nervous about drinking around him. 

“You can drink,” he reassured, as if he could hear your thoughts, “I don’t mind.” 

“Are you sure? I can dump it, or–or–” 

Kendall puts his fingers over your lips, silencing you. You’re not quite sure what has gotten into him, he’s rarely as handsy as he’s been all night. Not that you're complaining, you’ve been lost in his deep eyes since day one. 

“You’re doing it again,” Kendall retorts, “You’d think that a drink would–” 

“Three,” You corrected. 

He raises his brows, “well then especially after three drinks, you’d be a bit less…” he gestures at you, “this.” 

You stiffen. “What do you mean?” Your eyes prick with tears. “I-I can go– I’m sorry.” 

“No, no, no,” Kendall rushes to reach for you. He lets out a huff of a laugh, “There’s nothing wrong. You just… you talk a shit ton.” 

“You’ve known this for how long at this point, Ken? I can’t help it, I just don’t know how to tone it down. I know it’s obnoxious, I know it’s annoying and that I’m not being paid to talk your ear off all the time. I just get so pent up. And now I’m rambling again and– God– I just don’t know how to stop it–” 

As you continue to ramble, your hands now in on the conversation as you speak animatedly, Kendall sets down his club soda in a matter-of-fact kind of way, a determined nod as he does so. He turns to you, nodding along with your babbling before placing his warm hands on your cheeks and pulling your mouth to his. 

Eyes wide, you freeze, before your eyes flutter shut and you melt into the kiss. His lips are soft, softer than you’d imagined. There’s a type of reverence to the kiss, as he cradles your face in his hands. It feels like it’s something you both had wanted to do for so long. 

What feels like too soon, he pulls away. His eyes search yours, hands still cupping your now incredibly flushed cheeks. You can see the ways his eyes crinkle with a small smile. 

“Hey,” Kendall finally breaks the silence. 

“Hi,” you breathe out. 

“You okay?” 

You can only respond with a nod. Too shocked to speak, which is a first. 

“If I knew kissing you would shut you up for a fucking second, I would’ve done this more often.” He chuckles, before slinging an arm around your shoulder, pressing a soft kiss on your temple. 

#succession #kendall roy #kendall roy x reader #kendall roy x you #succession fanfic #kendall roy fanfic

[thirteenemeraldcats]

in one of your tags you mentioned-

'one of the things that gets chatted about A LOT in teaching is meeting students at their point of need- which ted does NOT do with jamie'

I would love to hear more of your thoughts on this! Both in terms of what that concept entails, and also what you think Jamie's point of need was at the time versus what Ted saw the situation needing

(You have excellent tags btw, don't know if anyone's mentioned that)

I HAVE MANY THOUGHTS ON THIS THAT I LOVE THAT YOU'D LOVE TO HEAR!

(I have more thoughts than I anticipated, this got errr, long. Whoops)

(potentially necessary/relevant background here is I am a high school teacher 👋)

Okie dokie, so, one of the principles of best practice in teaching is the idea I tag-rambled above; meet both the individual students and collective class at their point of need. Essentially this means practising differentiation in teaching and adjusting how content/ideas are communicated to students based on who they are as learners and people. Particularly if a student is performing outside the 'average' (either exceeding or still developing), this means adjusting to their needs by (among other things) curating differentiated resources and adapting delivery style. Differentiation is especially important in an all-abilities classroom, unfortunately public education is perpetually underfunded and overcrowded so everyone's just out here doing their best (the decent people of the world at least). BUT! WHILE I'M ON IT! SPEAKING OF THE THINGS I'VE TAG RAMBLED, the education system's (global) inability to adequately differentiate for students of different-abilities, particularly students with ADHD, ASD and Dyslexia, is perhaps the greatest failing of the whole dang thing and if anyone who ever stumbles across this is neuro-divergent and feels like they were a bad student or couldn't 'keep up' in mainstream education- THAT WAS NOT YOUR FAULT. You don't have to break yourself to 'fit', school is MEANT to bend for you. (Particularly when you're young, ESPECIALLY WHEN YOU'RE YOUNG)

ANYWAY, the fictional football of it all!

We don't see a lot of Ted actually coaching in this show (stick with me). The scenes in which he 'coaches' are typically him and various other coaching staff standing on the sidelines while the team skirmishes or occasionally runs drills, so me saying Ted doesn't differentiate is more based around his patented Ted-talks. NOW, Ted PROBABLY knows the team fairly well as individuals, particularly in season 2 and 3, purely by having spent quite a lot of time with them, despite this the only times we really see him 'adjust' his style with the team are ironically season 1 (examples include conferencing Jamie and Roy in 1x04 For The Children, and allowing/facilitating Nate's speech in 1x07 Make Rebecca Great Again). The moment that always sticks out to me as most significant is when he goes and seeks out Keeley's advice on how to get through to Jamie in 1x02 Biscuits.

Side note: I will be forever obsessed with Keeley jumping straight from 'blowjobs' to one of the four operant conditioning techniques (positive reinforcement) when asked about this. That woman is a very fascinating puzzle of a person.

Ted recognises that his typical perpetual-optimism-style isn't cracking the Jamie-Tartt-nut and seeks out a different opinion. This kind of collaboration and whole-system approach is key in teaching too, either by tapping the knowledge-well of a student's broader school context or the difficult-to-crack student's parents.

SO, having gotten the Jamie-Tartt-cheat-code from Keeley he DOES meet Jamie at his point of need, speaks clearly to him and communicates what he needs from him. AND IT WORKS! Temporarily! During the conversation between the two in Ted's office we see Jamie engage, he even practises self-reflection! Granted it's about his left foot cross, but still! The nut is cracked.

Jamie even maintains the perspective Ted has taught him for about two seconds while talking to Trent, until Jamie's other (definitely not positively-reinforced) behaviours rear up and he reverts to what James others have taught him.

On the other hand.

Multiple times throughout the show we see Jamie be visibly or verbally confused by Ted's communication style. Ted often talks in meandering metaphors that Jamie doesn't seem to be able to follow. We verbally hear him state 'Why doesn't he just say that then, do you know what I mean?' in 2x07 Headspace after Beard has to translate Ted's 'peas and carrots/beefchunks' analogy to 'starters and reserves'. Then there's the infamous 'What the fuck are Denver Broncos?' from 3x09 La Locker Room Aux Folles. The only notable time we really see Jamie 'get' one of these metaphors is the sewer-system-tunnels from 3x01 Smells Like Mean Spirit.

(His understanding of that specific metaphor, along with his use of the magnets to demonstrate total football in 3x07 The Strings That Bind, and a Watsonian-perspective of his near perfect mimicry of movements he saw two years ago when executing the decoy play in 3x12 So Long, Farewell, are actually all examples I use to head-canon Jamie as a primarily visual/physical based learner. For whatever that's worth!)

NOW! Ted's willingness to seek and apply alternate techniques in season 1 when he should know the team as both individuals and a collective the least, coupled with his inability or unwillingness to practise differentiation in later seasons when he DOES KNOW THEM is why I don't think Ted is meeting the team, specifically Jamie at their/his point of need. Any person's ability to differentiate behaviour to meet the needs/requirements/comforts of the individual or group they're talking to is increased the more they know them. (We all do this in life, consciously or subconsciously we typically try and 'match the vibe' of whoever we're communicating with [doubly so for people who're engaging in masking.])

Ted should and does learn more about Jamie as a person and his background as the show progresses. He listens to Jamie vocalise both his internal justifications for his actions and his reflections of those justifications/actions in 1x06 Two Aces, he sees him being explicitly physically abused in 1x10 The Hope That Kills You, he listens to him describe a spiralling mindset in 2x02 Lavender, he sees him being explicitly verbally abused in 2x08 Man City.

Of course, one of the fascinating things about Jamie is how much he learns and grows over the course of the show, and there are instances in which I don't think Ted is recognising that (primarily his dismissal of Jamie in 3x03 4-5-1 and not utilising Jamie's knowledge of total football as a resource from the beginning in 3x07 The Strings That Bind).

Ted understands and has previously applied Jamie responding well to positive reinforcement, yet at multiple times in the series doesn't respond in a way that reflects his perspective being informed by that knowledge. Essentially not practising the appropriate level of care/caution when interacting with/around Jamie.

There's not intervening on Jamie's behalf in 2x03 Do the Right-est Thing or 2x06 The Signal when the team and Roy are targeting or ignoring him respectively. The assumed absence of any follow up to the events of 2x08 Man City, the Zava of it all in season 3, and of course the eternal 'forgiveness' kicker from 3x11 Mom City.

POINT BEING. And to actually answer your inquiry lol, I think Jamie is someone who needs clear communication, ideally bracketed in positive reinforcement based operant conditioning as a learning technique (reward behaviour you want reinforced by offering something desirable [praise in Jamie's case]) and visual/physical aid/references for concepts; as a LEARNER.

AS A PERSON, there's more. Ted can readily infer from all he's heard and seen that Jamie's a victim of child abuse. The long term damage to the adult psyche that abuse during formative years has is astronomical, it literally changes the foundational structures of a person's brain. And yet, again, we never see Ted even acknowledge this. Jamie in 3x11 Mom City, incidentally compares his father to Freddy Krueger, Ted elaborates on the comparison, then Jamie reiterates that Freddy Krueger's 'fucking terrifying'. Ted doesn't reassure Jamie (the requirement of his point of need), he gives him a Ted-talk (and in doing so doesn't differentiate his perspective/communication technique).

As far as what Ted thought the situation needed... search me I've got no idea. I do think Ted projects onto Jamie a hell of a lot. That he gets Jamie's personhood and life experiences all tangled up in the emotions he has about his father's death and his consequent perceived abandonment, his insecurities about his own ability to parent Henry and even in his own inability to clearly communicate with his mother. I do think Ted relies on his own forced optimism to 'get by'. Like how a great white shark dies if it stops swimming, if Ted stops being 'Ted', if he stops swimming, his past and his fears and his feelings will catch up to him and swallow him whole. (For what it's worth, I do think Ted is more unwell than even the show explicitly tells us, much like Jamie experiencing ongoing trauma due to childhood abuse, the effects both short-term and long-term as well as potential causalities of having a parent die by suicide are... grim.)

(Essentially the entire fandom has talked about basically all of this at one point or another, I'm just using slightly different language.)

NOW! These characters are fictional (obviously) and I am judging them based on real-people conventions and the best-principles of my own profession, as well as my background in theoretical psychology (which I think I forgot to mention and is also probably [??] relevant). My Doylist-perspective of Ted and his coaching/communication style is ...kinder, but if I get too sucked into the narrative it results in either brief tag-rambles or... whatever this thing I've just typed is. I think it's been too long since I've written academically, my thoughts have gone circular 🫠

ANYWAY! I hope this made something-approaching sense! Thank you again for asking to hear my thoughts! Always happy to word vomit!

ALSO, thank you for saying my tags are excellent (you are the first and currently only to say so!) - The tags are where I send my thoughts to die (in a 'I must banish them to move on' kind of way rather than a 'I'm strangling them' kind of way) so you saying they're excellent is even MORE flattering than you realise! Makes my brain want to purr 💚🤣

#what do i even begin to tag this slab of text as YEESH #ted lasso #jamie tartt #theodore lasso #ask box is always open #come hit me up for teaching rambles or psych rambles or fandom rambles or general rambles ANYTIME #readwing #jamiesfootball #oh shit trigger warnings #suicide #child abuse #if this indeed makes no sense i would like to blame it on the fact i've written it while drinking wine through a straw #(it's my friday night okay) #i'll post this in the morning when i've had the chance to read it while NOT drinking wine through a straw #hola- it is now morning and i'm only slightly hungover! win!

[liesmyth]

@takiki16 tags on my post are too good not to be shared! The context is wild shit that legit happened in IRL football ⚽ that I need the Ted Lasso fandom to be aware of, because it'd make for excellent fic material:

the MANAGERS #the PERSONAL DRAMA#I KNOW that ted lasso is not designed to be an actual realistic show #I KNOW that this whole thing did in fact begin as a way to soft trap Americans into watching the Prem #to the point that JOSE FUCKING MOURINHO ACTUALLY HAD A PART IN THE ORIGINAL NBC AD #I do NOT want to change the vibe of the show at all #(but like…a dramedy about the EPL that REALLY wanted to roast some fuckers would perhaps…NOT look like ted lasso #if they wanted to start with the managers it would just be two middle aged idiots with BOILING beef #who had to be physically restrained from throwing hands every other game and have personally destroyed each others’ marriages

Okay WHO would Roy have managerial beef with. I vote Arteta. Actually as @elizabear suggests, it's funnier if it's one sided

He would also instinctively dislike Rob Edwards of Luton because Jamie once said he's the hottest manager in the EPL. Roy's annoyed and he doesn't know why. (Rob Edwards is very hot)

For an example of managers throwing hands... the Tuchel/Conte handshake

In fact here's a whole compilation of managers throwing hands.

Thank you for bringing up Mourinho! This is his ad, btw. "What do you WANT Ted?" lives in my mind rent-free

After much soul-searching I've decided Roy likes Mou a lot among all the managers he's played for. YES, he is a total cunt BUT

he's really fucking funny about it. Like, really.

he's never met a referee he didn't have beef with but most of all Anthony Taylor (as a Roma fan I have to agree with him on that)

the entire 2005 Chelsea team would've died for him. I've said this before, but there can't be a Frank Lampard in TL if Roy plays the box-to-box midfielder role, so this quote about Mourinho walking into Lampard naked in the shower to give him a pep talk? That's Roy. To me.

I can't even pick a quote among all the shit he's said about all the managers he's played against, but I especially enjoy when he used to be a bitch about Pep and Pep was like "I don't know her." It was like a one-sided crush dating back from their Barca days

#if they wanted it to be about the players the literal sky is the limit. WHATEVER the writers room can come up with#it cannot come CLOSE to the batshit drama that real Sockckckckcer Playahs have amongst each other#also intricate rituals. NOT ENOUGH INTRICATE RITUALS#when Jamie scored that free kick after getting permission to be a prick Dani should have kissed him with tongue

Here's some homoeroticism:

#but TO COME BACK TO OP’S POINT ABOUT ACTUAL GAMEPLAY#I want to see Coach Roy get red carded and have to sit in the stands for the next game cursing and swearing

He'd get, like, 3 red cards a season MINIMUM. Mourinho who. Here's Klopp losing it a bit. Here's Pep being passive aggressive as fuck. Pochettino from 2 days ago. Also from last weekend: De Zerbi's "I don't like 80% of referees in England" he's so right for this.

Manager Roy would get himself red carded the week before Richmond play Chelsea away. Totally accidental. So he doesn't have to have a lil cry about it.

#I want to see what it would take to get Zoreaux sent off#and then they have to stick Bumbercatch in goal and it turns out he has some Hyper Specific Phobia about the situation#he manages to save the team but his coping mechanisms for dealing with Forcible Keeper Phobia make up the comedy B-plot of the episode#

I want CLUB RIVALRY. dunno where Richmond actually physically is but imagine if they had derbies#Ted has to be made to understand that no coach - for THIS game we will not stop till we see BLOOD#Richmond wins but bc they are playing away the home fans actively are tossing crap at them as they celebrate on the pitch#also the sprinklers come on and it’s a bus full of soaked greyhounds on the ride home

They're in West London! Maybe they just fucking hate Fulham. Or Brentford.

Actually, I've thought long and hard about Richmond's derby rivalries. Semi-canon sources say they have a bit of a West London rivalry with Brentford BUT to me it doesn't make much sense because Richmond are supposed to have been mid-table in the Prem for years, top-flight but mediocre. Brentford only made it to the Prem in 2021.

Actually, I've decided that Richmond kind of take the place of QPR for most of their history, except they didn't get relegated when QPR did. This is because 1) it'd be too many London-based clubs otherwise but, more importantly, 2) when Man City won their first title in 2012 with Agueeeeeero!!! that was against Richmond. It's funny, To Me.

Also you know Roy still fucking hates Newcastle from his Sunderland academy days. If his pundit career had lasted longer he'd be having top tier shithousery with Alan Shearer every week about it.

Anyway here's a whole youtube playlist about WILD derbies.

#ALSO BC SUAREZ IS COMING TO MIAMI - BITING INCIDENTS CAN THEY DO THAT

As an Italian I am legally obliged to SAY that if Suarez hadn't bitten Chiellini at the World Cup we would have gone past the group stage because Uruguay scored off a corner they won while Italy were all busy telling the ref that there was a fucking cannibal on the pitch. I don't forgive and I don't forget.

Anyway for context: cannibal Luis Suarez. He's a repeat offender. Someone at Richmond would think it was very funny

#once again sticking this footie post in the tag #ted lasso #FIC AUTHORS I HOPE THIS INSPIRES YOU #tumblr user taakiki16 you're SO valid for those tags I love them #sports #i'm sorry re roy & mourinho it's just true. roy in his prime playing days wouldn't have cared about the cuntery #as a manager he wouldn't be shit to his physio but as a player? sorry it wasn't a deal breaker. he likes mou more than ancelotti. to me #ted lasso meta #i mean. sort of lmao #long post #afc richmond #roy kent #various irl footie people #futbol

[multimilfs]

Miranda Priestly x Fem!Reader: Public People in Private

Summary: Miranda Priestly + 67 “Uh, am I interrupting?”

Prompts found here!

A/N: Miranda… my beloved. I need to rewatch this movie so bad, it’s been ages

Full Ficmas List

Tag List: @imtrashinflames @escapetodreamworld @multifandomfix @ghostsunderstoodmysoul

Warning(s): None

“You can let me out here, Roy. I’m going up today.” 

“Are you sure? I had a… colorful message from Emily this morning.” Roy asks, glancing at you in the rearview mirror. 

“I’ll risk it,” You smile, “I might be able to help out. At the very least, I’ll distract her for a few minutes.” 

Roy nods and you step out in front of the Elias Clarke building. You weave through the crowds and inside without a hassle. The attendant stands up straighter upon seeing you, even after all this time. Nodding in greeting, he lets you through. 

The crowds seem to part as soon as you’re past the front desk. Tall, rail-thin models step out of your way, some even stepping out of the elevator when you get in. You want to shake your head at the treatment. 

It’s a short ascent to the Runway offices and you can see why Emily is so stressed. Models and staff scamper past, barely looking your way. The front desk is in shambles as several men in suits hound the receptionist. 

Milena, the poor girl, looks absolutely beaten. You check your watch and find you have a few minutes before Miranda is expecting you. 

“Is there something wrong here, gentleman?” You ask smoothly, stepping in beside Milena like it’s your rightful place. 

The tallest and meanest of the bunch turns on you. His suit is rumpled like he’s been tugging at it nervously, face red and splotchy with anger. 

Milena cuts in softly before he can throw anything your way, “They keep saying Miranda is expecting them, but they’re not in her schedule.” 

You pat her shoulder. 

“We do have an appointment!” He almost shrieks. 

You look him up and down, raising a brow. It shuts him up long enough for you to dial a familiar number. You hold up a finger to the men while the line rings. 

His fists clench at his sides. He looks like the lawyer type, which means he’s not used to being made to wait, let alone by a woman. 

“Miranda Priestly’s office.” Emily’s clipped voice comes down the line. 

“Hi Em,” You say sweetly, “I’ve got three men waiting with Milena, claiming they’ve got an appointment on the books. Is there anything in her schedule?”

“Of course not. She has lunch with you.” 

“That’s what I thought. Thank you, Em.” You return the phone to the cradle and give a sharp smile, “You’re not on the schedule, gentleman. I trust you know where the elevators are and if you’ve forgotten, security will be more than happy to escort you.” 

“I’ll have your job, Miss—” One of the other men says. 

You grin deviously, “It’s Mrs, actually. Mrs. Priestly.” 

All three men blanch. Milena tries to cover her grin as you step around the desk. She discreetly dials the security line, watching you with bated breath. 

The tallest doesn’t look so mean now. When you step up to him, he takes a half-step back. You almost regret Miranda not being here to bear witness; you learned it from her, after all. 

When the elevator sounds and the doors open, the head of security and two of his burliest men step out. Milena nods in the direction of the three men you’re staring down. Tearing your eyes away for a moment, you nod.

“Clark.” You acknowledge the head of security. 

“Mrs. Priestly,” He says, “Is there a problem here?” 

“No problem. These gentlemen just need some assistance finding the lobby.” 

Clark nods and his two men step forward and usher the red-faced men from Runway. You watch them go with a satisfied smile. Folding your arms over your chest, you turn to the man at your side.

“Do we know how they got up here?”

“Front desk says they had an appointment with Mr. Ravitz this morning. They must have come straight from his office.” 

Your lip curls, “Irv. Of course.” 

“Is there anything else I can do for you?” 

“That’s all, Clark. Thank you.” 

He leaves without further fanfare. You watch as he sends a warm smile Milena’s way. Her responding blush makes you pause. Interesting development, you think, trying not to let your thoughts show on your face. 

Collecting your bag and accepting Milena’s heartfelt thanks, you continue back towards Miranda’s office. You wince when you catch sight of a clock. You’re five minutes later than you should be, but all you can do is hope your wife isn’t too upset. 

Following the familiar pathway to the offices, you try not to shake your head when nearly a dozen models and staff members scare upon seeing you. Honestly, you think, I wasn’t nearly as bad as Emily. Must just come with marrying the Editor-in-Chief, you decide. 

Speaking of Emily, the brit is boredly explaining something over the phone. You offer a small wave and she sends you a surprisingly-genuine smile. 

Miranda isn’t alone in her office; you can hear her soft voice bickering with someone else. Peering in, you see Nigel standing in front of her, hands motioning this way and that as he explains something. 

Knocking on the office door, “Uh, am I interrupting?” 

Both look up. Miranda’s severe expression softens slightly. When she checks the watch on her wrist, her lips purse and you know you’re not getting away with your tardiness, but she doesn’t say anything about it. 

“Not at all, darling. Come in.” Miranda stands. 

You meet Nigel in the middle of the office and exchange air kisses. He pulls back and looks you over, nodding approvingly. 

“New boots?” He asks. 

“They’re last season, actually.” You say, then stage-whisper, “Don’t tell Miranda.” 

“Oh honey, I wouldn’t dare.” Nigel winks. 

He gives Miranda a small nod and takes his leave. You cross around the desk to accept your usual kiss on the cheek. She’s a little slower to grant it today and you lean back, raising a brow.

“You’re late.” 

“There was a situation at the front desk,” You answer easily, “I would have been early, but Milena needed the help.” 

“If she needs help doing her job then perhaps she’s better suited for employment elsewhere.” Miranda says. 

“You know that isn’t what I meant.” 

“Do I?”

“Miranda.” You glare, “If you fire Milena I’m going to be extremely cross.” 

She rolls her eyes. Pulling out a few paper menus, she hands them over, and you peruse today’s selections. Smith and Wollensky rests on top and you try not to laugh. Miranda always puts her preferred option on the very top, but lets you have the final choice. 

You could go for a steak. And you should probably tread carefully with your lateness. 

Handing over the Smith and Wollensky menu, she nods, looking pleased. She calls Emily in to rattle off your orders while you move over to the couch in her office. 

Emily takes the notes dutifully. You wonder where the new second assistant is, having heard some interesting murmurs about her over the past few days. Emily was suitably frustrated with her—as was Miranda—but Nigel and Serena had been a little more kind. She was out of her depth, but meant well, that was the final verdict. 

You hardly notice when Emily leaves until Miranda sits down next to you. Leaning back against the couch, she eyes you. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You ask. 

“Like what?” 

“Like you’re trying to figure me out.” 

Miranda chuckles, “Darling, figuring you out will take more than my lifetime.” 

“I can never tell if statements like that are a compliment or insult.” You narrow your eyes. 

“For you?” Miranda raises a brow and pretends to think on it, before her face softens infinitesimally, “A compliment.” 

“Miranda Priestly, are you going soft on me?” You tease, but lean into her space, “Imagine what that’d do to your reputation.” 

“I have.” 

There’s a look in her eyes you can’t decipher. You try not to think about it too much, stealing a quick kiss, trying not to badly damage her lipstick.

“So, tell me about today.”

You lean back and settle in for Miranda’s usual spiel about the incompetence of her employees, watching her fondly. 

#miranda priestly #miranda priestly x reader #the devil wears prada #tdwp #the devil wears prada x reader #miranda priestly imagine #the devil wears prada imagine #wlw #wlw imagine #dec2022 #multimilfswritings #multimilfsficmas2022

[romeulusroy]

Pig (Lukas Matsson × Roy!Sibling)

Characters: Lukas

Word Count: 1,368

A/N: Do I love, love, love Roman for going off on him? Yes he is my baby boy!!! I don't really know what this is, I just know he'd be v creepy to the Baby Roy sibling and it would definitely get backlash from the older siblings 💞 Feedback is always appreciated 💜💖💜

FIC MASTERLISTS/TAG LIST 

You are like your father. He speaks in a way that is thoughtful, though not kind. Forward, as if he were scared to waste a second of time on frail pleasantries. He is frank, honest, his humor bordering on indistinguishable. And yet, there is something about it you cannot resist. Cold, calloused, and cruel? You ask lightly, staring down your drink. He laughs with his whole chest. Its a strange thing to hear from him, a man like him, who uses his humor not in a defensive way, but an offensive way. It drives your brothers mad, and your sister can’t stand the look of him, but there is something about him you can’t quite piece together. A puzzle you can’t solve. The fact that you don’t know him makes him all the more intense, more of an unknown. He knew your father though, and that in itself is enough of a red flag. He trusted men made of barbed wire without morals. He had a type. Unpredictable, he offers, but intelligent. You both see the whole picture. What kind of picture were you looking at now? Matsson reclined in his chair, drinking carefully. You stood opposite to him, leaning against the back of the chair, swirling your drink, too aware that you were only people in the room. Too aware of the silence between you was thick, obtuse, that there were the muted sounds of your parties mingling just outside the door. You didn’t want to claw your way back to them, making small talk while they talked poorly of you in their mother tongue. You weren’t eager to see your own kind either. Equally as indigestible, they questioned why you were even here. Couldn’t even wait for the body to be in the ground. You said without thinking, watching your drink spin. He doesn’t look at all surprised. Do you think that makes me barbaric? From anyone else, it would have come off egocentric, feigning worry, fear. The way his eyes widened, eyebrows raised, he seemed genuinely concerned. Had he never thought about it? Really? Something in him must’ve known the timing, the demands, they were off. Thoughtless. You let the question linger in the air for a moment, watching, waiting for his expression to change. It never falters. Who are you? What kind of game are you playing? We all do what we have to, you shrugged finally. That’s the truth. In this life, this game, there is never a right moment, only the correct move. He nods, his eyes moving from you to the floor. The lulls in conversation are natural. Never awkward or painful. The ice in your glass clinks together. It’s all you can do with your hands. Behind him, the night, the mountains, everything sleeps soundly under the dark blanket of the night sky. 

Can I ask, what are you doing here? Here, where? Here in Norway? Here in his room? Or, here in existence? You couldn’t do it, be left behind. Take care of the funeral arrangements. Connor was there, but he kept calling you, Rome. You didn’t have the heart to pick up, to deal with him, with any of this. When you found out they were going, you packed a bag. They didn’t say no outright, but they didn’t say yes either. Too bad. It wasn’t rainy enough on New York. The corners of his lip turn up for a few seconds. Funny, you can practically see the thought form in his mind. Funny, yes. No, no I mean what are you doing here, now. Your eyes meet his. Because you found me wandering alone, trying to get away from the collegiate mayhem, and you invited yourself in. You shut the door. You locked us in. You poured us drinks without asking, assuming, getting comfortable on the couch. Was it deeper than that? Trapped with a man who wanted your company, your everything, to take from your brothers and sister in the comfort of his own land. Sort of. Almost his land. A hell of a way from home, that’s for sure. 

You’re nothing like them, you know. He says this so seriously, so matter-of-factly, it makes you want to laugh. How so? Clearly, he’s seeing someone you aren’t, a fictitious replacement of the person standing before him. You’re exactly like them. All of them. Connor, Kendall, Siobhan, Roman. All of you responsible for your own faults, your own misgivings, equally fucked up by your father one way or another. You figured he was smarter than this, at least you would have hoped so. Pick up on the things others didn’t. Notice you weren’t sitting across from him, not wanting to get too comfortable. Swirling your glass, never taking a sip. You wouldn’t dare get sloppy in his company. Or how about the facial expressions you make when his party speaks, matching theirs. Förstår du detta, motherfucker? You weren’t an idiot, far from it actually. He seemed to be though. You just are, in a good way of course. Was this going to get you take your clothes off? This “sweet talk”? He had to be better than this. Has anyone ever told you you’re a complete fool when you open your mouth or are you too busy surrounding yourself with yes men? You bite your tongue. The thought lingers than you’d like. Why are you talking to me? You ask instead, your glass sweating, the alcohol becoming watery, runny. I have no stakes in this company, not really. My brothers and sister are in charge. They make the deals, agree upon the numbers. I’m here on vacation. You go on, the words falling from your mouth before you can catch them. Of all of us, it should be Ken in here, making small talk, trying to figure you out. Not me. His grin made your skin crawl..

I like you the most. If you had been drinking, you would have spat it out, though the shock of that didn’t read in your expression. If I could, I’d make all my deals with you. Only you. He didn’t even know you. You could count the handful of times you’d ever interacted. It was always full of snarky comments on your part, the kind your siblings had to come in and rescue you from, though you preferred them not to. You take a step back, needing space, air. Please, sit. He pats the space next to him. No way would you get any closer than this. You got the sense that if you got too close, he might try to bite you. Stick his hand between your legs. Worse. You can only shake your head in response. No thank you, your father would correct. He wasn’t here to do so, though. Still, this deal is a big one. You had to be respectful, right? You’re just saying that to be nice. I’m sure you would rather talk with Ken or Rome, they know a lot more than I do. I wouldn't even know where to start. You laugh, hoping this is the end of the conversation. Hoping someone could come in and rescue you. No one ever did. Shadows passed beneath the door, but there was no knock, no clearing of the throat, no one to notice you were gone. That he was gone, too. Those airheads? He chuckled. You slammed down your glass. This was your out. Truthfully, your brothers could be idiots. They were idiots. Together they shared a single coherent thought once every blue moon. Still, he didn’t have to know this. Your ticket out. Your anger was beautiful, your disgust just perfect. He stood quickly, trying to self-correct. Y/n, I didn’t- that wasn’t meant to- what I mean. . . Too late. You moved to the door before he hand the chance to block you, jiggling the handle, fiddling with the lock until it opened. Outside, you could finally breathe in something that wasn’t his cologne. You needed a shower. You needed to talk to Ken, Rome, Shiv, whoever. Let them know who they were really dealing with. Jävla kryp. You hissed loud enough for him to hear before slamming the door shut. Fucking creep.

#writing #lukas matsson #lukas matsson x reader #lukas matsson fic #succession #succession imagine #succession fic

[dollwritesarchive]

Oh my god I nearly screamed when I saw what you were doing for your event. If it's not taken yet, can you do “If I’d known how much you liked to be watched I would’ve invited him sooner.” with Dick and Roy?

𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓌 & 𝓉𝑒𝓁𝓁 ⎹ 𝓓.𝓖. & 𝓡.𝓗.

fandom dc / masterlist / @dollsdc-library

featuring dick grayson x titan!reader ( f! ) x roy harper

rating none of my work is meant to be viewed by minors (anyone under the age of eighteen), and i will happily block any that interact with my posts or my blog.

content warning alcohol mention, voyeurism, smut

summary roy gets front row seats to the show he really wants to see.

word count 1.2k / mini musing

attention do not repost or translate, even with ‘credit’. just don’t do it. reblog instead of like. leave feedback if you enjoyed.

doll’s three’s company event !

this had started out like a joke; a playful tease between friends, but had gotten very real very quickly.

drinks after the mission, and before long, most of the titans had filtered out to get some much needed rest, but Roy remained, sipping on his cola and being very uncharacteristically well behaved. Dick had his arm thrown around your shoulders, and would pull you in for a lazy, boozy kiss every now and then. each time he got handsier and handsier, until you finally gave in. “Maybe we should get to bed, too, before this one strips me down right here.” you chortled, nodding towards Dick who was wearing a victorious smirk as you got to your feet. “Planning to crash soon, Harper?”

Roy had thought about it for a moment, before shook his head. “Nah. Maybe I’ll stay up a bit.”

“You could always tag along,” Dick replied, standing up with his arms snaking around your waist to pull you close. Roy blinked, taken aback by the invitation, a mirror to your own reaction. Dick rubbed your hips in circles with his thumbs, “Come on, Roy, you think I don’t see the way you look my girl up and down when she’s not paying attention?” your eyebrows quirk, your attention on the archer before you as if asking; you do? Roy Harper rarely had a timid bone in his body, even being outed for checking out his best friend’s girlfriend, and he’d shrugged, a goofy smile on his face. “You want to know what it’s like?” Dick’s tongue swiped at your neck and you tilt your head to one side with a soft moan, “What do you say, baby? Wanna show Speedy here what he’s missing?”

that’s how you ended up here.

both hands bracing yourself on Roy’s spread knees, your own turned inwards and locked there to keep from collapsing, Dick gripping your hips with both hands, jerking you back to meet his hard, deep thrusting. each time he fills you to the brim with cock, your ass ripples against his pelvis, and your eyes widen, as if you’re amazed by just how much he had to give, no matter how many times you’d taken it. “Fuck,” you mewl, brows knit together, tiers parted, “Dick, don’t stop.”

you hadn’t been expecting Roy to enjoy it so much, but he was planted in the armchair with one palm rubbing rough circles around the tent in his trousers, and the other gripping your face, thumb and forefinger hollowing your cheeks. “Keep those pretty eyes on me, sweetheart,” he cooed, teeth nipping at his lower lip as he spoke, “I’m likin’ how big they get when you’re full of cock.” your fingers clench the fabric of his pants, gripping handfuls of the slack at his kneecaps, a sultry moan expelled with a huff of air against his face. “Listen to you, whining like a bitch in heat.” he chuckles, thick and wanting, his hand dropping from your face so he can recline against the back of the chair and get a clearer view of your body. eyes scanning up over your calves, to your thighs that were sticky with your arousal; they steady there, a guttural groan caught in his throat, “Christ, you’re makin’ a mess, sweetheart. You always this enthusiastic or are you just puttin’ on a show for me?” 

the smile on your lips is a strained, but honest one, “I— I like that you’re— watching—“ you reply in your panting, each syllable punctuated by the sound of Dick’s flesh slapping against yours from behind. you stare at Roy’s face, watching his hungry expression, your own twisted in torturous ecstasy; your boyfriend was angled just perfectly for the thick, palpitating tip of his cock to batter your sensitive interior bundle of nerves. “F—feels good…!” 

“Yeah?” Dick taunts, one hand placing itself splayed on your belly and gliding upwards. he takes a pause at your swinging breasts to grope one, and your back arches against his torso. “How good does it feel, huh? Why don’t you tell Roy how much you love taking it all the way in your little tummy?” 

Roy is patiently awaiting, that tense smile on his tight lips, even as his jaw works. if he was moaning as he palms himself, you couldn’t hear it for your own pleasure sounds, or the way Dick was breathing in your ear, but he was definitely staring. your toes curl, eyelids fluttering. “I love to take it,” you cry out, slamming yourself back into Dick’s merciless rutting, “God, fuck! I love to take it in my little t—tummy!” 

“Perfect girl,” Dick croons, nipping at your ear as his hand careens upward, bracing itself against your throat for only a moment before two, slender digits push their way into your open mouth, “If I’d known how much you like being watched, I would’ve invited him sooner. I bet you wanna cum while Roy watches, don’t you?” 

you nod, fervent, “I—I’m so close, Dick, please!” 

Dick chuckles, his pumps slowing just enough to frustrate your impending orgasm, but not soil it, “I don’t think I’m the one you should be begging. Convince our guest to let you cum on my cock.” you’re groaning, trying to persuade him to speed up again by bucking back against him, but his entire body is pressed to yours, forcing you to take him at his desired speed. 

as much as you want to suck on Dick’s fingers, your dilated eyes flicker to the archer before you, and he’s grinning ear to ear. “Beg me real nice, pretty girl.” he purrs, “wanna hear just how desperate you are.” 

“R—Roy,” you tease his name on your tongue, and feel Dick’s digits pushing deeper into your mouth; you’d just have to slur around them, “Roy, I want to cum so bad, I want you to watch me cum! Please, please let me cum for you!” you push your lower lip out to pout for him, whimpering when Dick’s hips oscillate to grind his hips into yours, stirring the furious bubbling in your lower belly, agitating the need for release. 

Dick groans, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses over your shoulder, “What do you think, Harper?” he asks, bracing himself deep inside you, “Think she’s earned it?” 

Roy watches your pathetic, needy expression and his grin widens, nodding. “How am I supposed to say no to that pretty, pouty face?” he teases, before he sits up, leaning as close to your face as he can, his lips mere inches from your cheek, “I’d say she’s earned a big, fat, screaming, fuckin’ orgasm.” 

“Thank you—“ you breathe out, weakened but happily, already feeling the pressure building up again when Dick’s hips rock back into a rhythm. 

Roy laughs, reaching up with his free hand to pet your face with a condescending hum, “You can thank me when you’re a quivering, oversensitive little pile of fuckmeat on the floor at my feet, sweetheart.”

#dick grayson imagine #dick grayson smut #dick grayson x you #dick grayson x reader #nightwing imagine #nightwing smut #nightwing x you #nightwing x reader #dc imagine #dc x you #dc x reader #dc smut #roy harper fanfic #roy harper imagine #roy harper smut #roy harper x you #roy harper x reader #arsenal x reader #Arsenal x you #Arsenal smut #red arrow

[daydreamgoddess14]

Salvation pt. 3

Full Masterlist

Roy Kent Masterlist

Roy Kent / Reader - general rating for now... set to increase 😏

Meet the woman who stole Roy Kent's watch... We finally get to some Roy x Reader deep conversation and messy history... This one is ALL OF THE ANGST guys! But the reward in part 4.... whooooo boy! The spoils (🔥) are coming lads, fear not!

This also helpfully covers one of the prompts from my 200 Followers Celebration 🎉! From a lovely Anon who requested Roy and "I won't let anything bad happen to you".

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You pick Sammy up. It’s an excuse really to see Nia, your mother/sister/best friend stand in of the last few years. Even if she is practically the same age. If Sammy’s the one who gave you a job and some semblance of financial security, Nia’s the one who recognised the dark hole you were in and lowered down the ladder to you. You hadn’t realised how close you could feel with someone in only three years, but she’d become your ‘person’ almost immediately.

“Darling, morning.”

“Hey, how’re you feeling?”

“Like my ribs have become a xylophone.” You grimace at that. The human body is a magnificent and terrifying thing. When she’d shown you in her baby book how her organs shifted to make space for her growing baby, you’d declared auntie duty would be just fine, thanks. There would be no babies moving your organs around. 

“Nice. Brought you breakfast.” You pass her a bag of pastries. “Is he ready yet?”

“Nearly. Must have changed either his tie or his turban about four times trying to find the perfect combination,” you both roll your eyes and laugh at his commitment to the flawless matching pair. You both knew the answer already - 

“Blue floral.” You confirm together with a nod.

“The fabric is just beautiful. I do feel sorry for the poor bugger who has to make a matching tie for every turban though.” You muse, knowing it’s his mother in law who takes up that mantle.

“I know, right? And he complains that I buy too many books? I think not, pal.” She sniggers.

“You show him who’s boss. Cos if you don’t, then a certain someone else will.” You point at her growing belly. 

“Come on, Sam. You’re going to be late!” She shouts up the stairs. “Dinner tonight?” She asks you, she knows you might need company after the day ahead of you. You’ve disclosed a lot more of your past to her than Sam so she’s already up to speed on the last few days. You nod gratefully. “You’ll be fine. You need to talk to him though, apologise properly - explain what was going on back then.”

“I know. I will.” You hug her tightly and pester Sam out of the door.

Rebecca Welton is a gracious host. Warm, welcoming… you knew the lies the tabloids liked to spread so you knew the whole ‘cold, old Rebecca’ name tag was a load of crap.

“So, I think if it suits you both, I’ll have a cup of tea with Sam and we can get caught up while I get Roy to give you a tour and then we can arrange some smaller interviews with key staff and players?” Sam is beside himself,

“Sounds perfect Ms. Welton.”

“Yep, I’d love a tour.” You accept with a tight smile. 

“Wonderful! Here’s Roy now,” he steps through the open door and is clearly not expecting to see you.

“Thought we had reporters coming?” He grunts.

“We do, Sammy’s here from the Gazette. This is his… apprentice?” Rebecca tells him, “Something like that.” Sam laughs. You take a deep breath before holding your hand out,

“Nice to meet you again.”

“Hmm.” His warm hand engulfs yours and shakes it. The feel of his skin against yours is enough to trigger memories through your brain at top speed - his hand in yours, his hands on your face, your legs, in your hair. You snatch your hand away. “Come on, tour.” You follow him down the stairs and through mazes of rooms, “ticket office, finance,” then out into a wide corridor, “hall of fame.” You stop to look at the collection of memorabilia, making your way slowly past each piece and reading the accompanying cards. You stop fully at the couple of shelves dedicated to him, fingertips resting lightly on the glass. He clears his throat and you follow him deeper into the building. “Locker room, physio, boot room.” He pauses at the boot room. More memories come flooding back. “Remember when we -”

“Yeahhh,” you breathed, “I remember every single time.” You turn away to avoid his gaze.

“We were good together?”

“The best.” You reply quietly, a little sadness creeping in. He pushes the door open and holds it for you to follow. You sit shoulder to shoulder on the bench, both looking straight ahead.

“How have you been?” He asks quietly.

“Better recently. You?”

“Well no one has stolen my fucking watch lately.” He bumps you slightly, there’s the barest hint of amusement in his voice that you latch onto.

“They haven’t tried hard enough then,” you reply with a wry smile. He lets out a breathy laugh that he can’t quite disguise as anything else.

“I wish I could be more fucking angry with you than I am.”

“You have every right to be angry with me. I fucked up. I’ve been angry with myself for as long as I can remember.”

“You really fucked up. I just can’t understand why. I’ve spent this whole time trying to understand why. Because we were good together.”

“I know.” You agree, again. You were good together. You’ve been single since the day you walked out on him, haven’t even kissed anyone else in all that time. He’s the one you think of when you’re alone - he’s the only one you need to think of when you can’t sleep and you let your memories guide your hand down your body. These are obviously things you can’t say aloud, illicit memories you shouldn’t lean on but do. You sigh, he’s so expectant beside you, “How are you so… calm?” you wonder aloud. 

“Therapy,” he mutters with a short laugh.

“Shit, really?”

“Yeah, you?”

“No. Not sure if I’m ready for that yet.”

“Much as I hate to admit it, it helps.”

“Do you remember when you were angling for an invite to Christmas at my mums?” You ask, he frowns a little at the sudden change of subject. You feel him nod next to you.

“That’s when it started, that’s when you started to pull away. I never met any of your family.”

“My brother. You never met him, I never wanted you to meet him. He was there… he’s an addict. He has been for a really long time and we’ve tried everything to help him, everything. He told me that he was in some money trouble with some blokes he brought off. I didn’t have much but I gave him everything I had saved. Then he needed more. And more, and more and I just didn’t know where I was going to get it from, or how to help him. I took the watch, changed my phone number and left.” You pause for a minute to take stock of what you’ve said, you can tell he wants to ask questions but he waits patiently instead. “He was a fucking mess. I made him tell me who he owed and went to see them on my own, told them I’d pay them back myself if they never went near him again. Worked about three jobs, moved back in with mum so I wouldn’t have to pay rent as well, and spent the next year and a half paying them back. I worked 18 hour days, 7 days a week. I literally kept back, like, a tenner a week for myself. I kept a record of how much I paid and when. When we were done I told them so and told them to never come near us again.”

“And?”

“They still turn up occasionally to try and get more out of me, they claim it’s interest.”

“And your brother?”

“We sent him to my uncle’s house up in the North West, he’s been there ever since but he’s clean now. Too scared to come home though.” Roy is quiet for the longest time.

“He must have owed…”

“About 130k. Maybe a bit more than that. I was pretty fucking knackered. I was doing early mornings 4-8am at Maccys, then 8.30-5 with Sammy at the paper and then bar shifts til about 10 or 11 pm most nights. Sam saved me, let me get an hour's kip at lunchtime, and brought extra food every day for me to share with him.”

“Fuuuuuck.” He slumps where he’s sat next to you.

“There is something else.” He looks over in disbelief. You reach into your bag, pull out a sleek, matt black box and put it in his hands. 

“Fuck off?” He slides open the box to find his Rolex, in pristine condition - still ticking. “Fuck off.”

“I went to hand it over to them and… I couldn’t. I didn’t want them to have something of yours. I didn’t want to know that I’d done that, sunk that low.” Your voice gets even smaller, “they tried to suggest other methods of payment but…” you feel his shoulders tense, see his fists ball tightly in his lap, “I told them to give me a couple of months and see that I was good for the money, and if I ever missed a payment then we’d have that conversation.” He wants to know if you ever had the conversation, you can feel it in the air between you both,

“You never have to justify yourself to me.” He says firmly.

“I didn’t do it. Never missed a payment. Had to borrow a bit from Sam occasionally when I fell short, but I was never going to have that conversation with them. Never.” The air feels weighty with the tension, like it's risen up from your shoulders where it’s weighed you down for the last three years and is now hovering around you both. You’re amazed you got through it without tears. It’s been so easy to fall into the trap of feeling sorry for yourself over the years and wallow in the self pity of it all. Roy on the other hand is still visibly tense, his knuckles white. You tentatively reach your hand across to cover his, using your fingers to unball his hands.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He sounds worse than he had when he asked the same question a few days ago. His voice is hoarse and tight,

“I couldn’t let them know about you. They’d have ruined you. I had to protect you.”

“I won’t let anything bad happen to you. I would never have let anything happen to you. We could have sorted it together.” You turn to face him, bringing your other hand to his cheek,

“No love, it was never your problem to fix.”

“If all of this was over eighteen months ago -”

“Don’t ask me why I didn’t come back, Roy. It’s never really over, I couldn’t bring this shit to your doorstep and these dickheads just turn up whenever they think they might get a bit of extra cash out of me. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I’m sorry I took your watch and I’m sorry I walked out on us.” You can hear voices in the corridor outside, your times up and now you both have to be the epitome of professionalism while Roy is interviewed. “I’ll get Sam to interview the team and other staff first, give you some time.”

“What about you?”

“I’ve been living with this for three years, I’m tougher than I look. Besides, I’ve got some happy memories of this place,” you admit, looking around the familiar boot room. “I had the best sex of my life in this very room.” He lets out a low laugh, shaking his head. “I would never expect you to forgive me, Roy, but I truly thank you for giving me the chance to explain.” You pat his hand gently and leave a cool space beside him when you slip through the door to meet up with Sam and Rebecca.

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