#he keeps hope that one day Roy will by him back but 4 now he sits on his stupid little chair and draws and draws and draws | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

albatmobile · 3 months

Note

would you ever write manslut jason ,something about him being stupid for pussy is mmmh 🤤🤤

i got you!! (see also this ask included in this chap :p)

parent teacher conferences and other places to meet a pornstar pt. 3

[1] [2] [3] coming soon: [4] || ao3

𓅪 Rated: E | 8k includes: cam girl AU, teacher AU, misunderstandings, confessions, identity reveal, miscommunication, fingering, pussy eating, anal sex, threesome, degradation, praise, spanking, choking, hair pulling, creampie

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

You feel like you’ve fallen right into a trap.

He obviously knows who you are, but you didn’t know who he was fully until last night.

You feel entirely deceived and were honestly just thanking your lucky stars that he hadn’t ended up being some serial killer stalker.

Now you’re left to fret over how to go about this. After all, Lian’s still in your class and you’ll have to face him come Monday.

After thinking on it further, you realize he hasn’t been in your stream since before the parent teacher conference. This fact alone makes you feel a bit better, but you can’t deny the whole situation still has you feeling weird.

However, it’s not like he’d be comfortable enough to tell you he’s your top fan within a week of talking to you…

Ugh.

Why did this have to get so complicated?

You don’t think he’s dangerous and you can’t deny you were starting to have feelings for the redhead, but this all convoluted everything. Well, more so than it already was with you being Lian’s teacher… And your cam job…

Okay, yes, so, the whole thing basically.

You need to figure out how you’re going to handle the situation going forward, or if there’ll even be a situation going forward.

It’s going to be a long weekend.

➸💋➸

You go into Monday with your head held high.

Though you feel confident with your decision, as the end of the day nears you can’t help but feel anxiety at the impending confrontation.

Spring finally begins to show, with bees and birds emerging from their winter cocoons. The warmer temperatures allow you to keep your windows open during the lesson, something the kids have really appreciated. When your fellow teacher mentioned she was going out to the playground with her class and offered to take yours, you agreed.

It allows you more time to ready yourself and you’re grateful for the distraction it brings as summer and, coincidentally, the end of school draws nearer.

After the final bell rings, all of the kids continue to play on the playground, leaving the parents to come in and grab their kids' school supplies. It makes it easier when Roy- Mr. Harper, you correct yourself, lingers ever so slightly.

He seems like he’s being respectful of your distance, which only cements your decision further.

You ask him to hang back, something he complies with anxiously. Surprisingly, his nervousness only makes you feel more confident. You definitely made the right choice.

The hallways are empty and a quick look outside proves just how busy the playground is today. It’s the hottest day of the year and, so far, everyone’s taking full advantage of it. Well, everyone except for you and Mr. Harper.

How do you even start this conversation?

Part of you hopes that he’ll start babbling and save you from the pain of your own. Instead, he takes a back seat, letting you take complete control of the situation. He’s leaning stiffly against one of the desks in front of your own, so you move to lean loosely against the front of your desk. This position leaves maybe two feet of space between the two of you, something he seems to notice with an absentminded lick of his lips.

You cross your arms with a sigh, noticing how he carefully observes your every minuscule movement.

“I’m sorry for leaving like I did,” you finally build up the courage to say.

The redheaded dad mimics your crossed arms briefly, then uncrosses them and goes back to tapping anxiously against the desk with his freckled fingers. Then, he exhales with a light laugh. His head falls forward, hiding his eyes from your view through his long, orange locks, though the smile is evident on his face even as he subconsciously moves his hand over it pensively.

“Fire escape is a new low,” he drawls, with mirth evident as his light green eyes finally reach yours again. “Jason will never let me live that down, you know?”

You can’t help but laugh lightly, your arms unfolding as you do. You grip the edge of the desk exactly as Roy had during your first confrontation with him, back when he’d first shook your world.

“I did swear him to secrecy, in all fairness, so that’s on him,” you jest lightly.

At this point, he stops leaning on the desk and takes a step closer to you as if to test the waters.

You allow it.

He reaches out for your hands.

Once again, you allow it.

“I wanted to reach out so badly,” Roy says as he stares down at your intertwined hands. “I promise nothing happened after the movie. Hand to god, babe.” To cement his point, he moves his hand with yours to press the back of your hand against his beating heart.

“That’s not even what this is about, Roy- Mr. Harper.”

He hardly notices the correction, brow knit together in confusion. “Then, what was it about?” he asks in confusion.

It’s your turn to throw his username at him. “Arsenal,” you reply simply.

Your one word leaves his mouth to drops and, subsequently, for him to drop your hands. “Holy shit,” he spouts as he starts pacing, not even looking at you. Now you’re the confused one. “How did you figure it out?!”

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, I promise,” you reassure him, not understanding the large reaction he’s having.

“Soo,” he trails off uncomfortably, “you were cool with that one night?”

When he randomly gave you the $200 tip?

“It was a little weird, but yeah,” you reply genuinely. Having one of your student’s parents be subbed to you is one thing, them being your top fan before ever knowing you? Whole different ballgame.

He exhales deeply, with it going the rest of his worries, “Sick. Okay, cool.” You watch as he rubs sheepishly at the back of his head, while a crimson blush burns across his freckled cheeks. “So, where do we go from here? Can I even ask that?” he hurriedly tacks on at the end with wide eyes. “I just mean I don’t expect anything from you and I don’t want you to feel like you have to-"

There’s the signature rambling you’ve been missing.

“Roy,” you say, your amused tone effectively cuts him off. His eyes snap to yours in an instant as if he’s ready to drink in any and every word you give him. Good. You can’t afford to mess anything up. “I really like spending time with you; that’s not the issue. Regardless of all of all of this shit, we need to take all of this slow until the end of the year.”

He nods earnestly. “I can do that.”

“Good,” you smile, “it’s just a few months away, anyway.”

“Does this mean we can hang out before then?”

You laugh, though it comes out breathier than you’d meant it, something Roy notices with hungry eyes.

“Are you asking me out on a date?” you ask slyly.

He just shakes his head with a cheeky smile. “Trust me, you’ll know when I’m asking you on a date.”

➸💋➸

After this confrontation, you start hanging out with Roy every chance you get.

It only makes sense that, after a few weeks of constantly hanging out, Roy gets to see the real side of you.

You can only hide your nerdiness from him for a day as your conversations soon center around all the Batman comics you’ve read. Another few days and Roy figures out you like cat memes. It’s something he lets you know is ‘the stupidest shit ever,’ but it doesn’t stop him from spamming your phone with them while you’re at work.

It’s only so long before your Red Hood rants spill out of you as if you’re sitting on Wonder Woman’s lasso. You’re out at coffee with him while Lian’s at dance practice when it comes out, much to Roy’s obvious chagrin.

“He’s like, god-like hot, you know? Like I’d lick his combat boots the same way I’d lick the filth ring in his bathtub,” you admit, then stop and shake your head when you realize it doesn’t cover it. “I’d fucking suck on his sweaty jockstrap. I’m not even kidding, Roy.”

He nearly spits out his coffee, choking and pounding at his chest after your remark. “Oh?”

You nod your head. “Deadass,” you say.

You might think his quiet to mean that he was jealous, you know, if only you hadn’t been talking about Black Canary in much of the same way last week. If anything, it seems more like he’s thinking hard about something, but what, you’re not quite sure.

“What do you know about him?” Roy asks.

You sip at your drink as you think back to what you know of the vigilante—if he can even be called that.

“I haven’t really been paying much attention anymore to be honest, I’ve been really focused on work. This being said, I know it’s been a few years since Red Hood’s even been in Gotham,” you say, pushing your glasses further up the bridge of your nose as you try to piece together a timeline. “But I think I saw something in the news recently that sounded like his work. Maybe around the time school started this year?” Roy seems impressed, though he trains his expression before you can question it. “Either way, I don’t know much about him. No,” you trail off with a light blush.

“You’re cute, you know that?” he teases you, sipping with a pointed smirk.

Your blush intensifies as it so often does when you go on your nerd rants and he calls you out on it. “Shut up, Harper.”

After the coffee shop, comic book references and photos of Red Hood you’d never seen also get sent to you during work. Each pic of Hood is signed off with Roy’s signature ‘;p.’

➸💋➸

After another month of getting to know each other and the final two weeks of school are steadfast approaching. You’ll definitely miss seeing Lian and her dopey dad every weekday but can’t deny that it might just lead the way for other, better things to come to fruition.

This weekend, Lian’s with her grandparents in Aruba.

“Why didn’t you go?” you ask as you sit on his kitchen counter.

He’s cooking something, but you still can’t tell what the mess is going to be.

The redhead looks over his shoulder as he addresses you from the stove in front of you, “Not on the best of terms right now. Haven’t been for a while, to be honest, but I’m not gonna let the kid miss out on experiences because of it.”

“Oh,” you say, not knowing how else to respond.

He brings a spoon over for you to taste something, but your hair keeps getting in the way. You use the hair tie you have around your wrist to tie it up, but falter when the look behind Roy’s eyes changes.

“You look good,” he says, his voice deeper than it’s been all day. Roy gently guides the spoon between your pliant lips when you feel it.

“Roy!” you sputter through the hotness of the sauce in your mouth. You glance down and see that, yes, this man is hard as fuck. For what, though, you honestly have no idea.

“Sorry, babe,” he apologizes as he wipes at stray sauce on the corner of your mouth with a wicked glint flickering behind his green eyes. “Watching you put your hair up does things to me. Don’t hold it against me.”

You raise a brow at the obvious joke he’s setting you up for, but don’t bite.

“So, that’s what happened in the classroom that one day,” you trail off in amusement.

He throws his head back and laughs, “Fuck. I totally forgot about that shit.” Roy goes back to the stove, shaking his head as he does. “You know, I’m surprised you didn’t kick me out right then and there.”

“I thought about it,” you retort easily. “I like you too much, though.”

You’ve yet to really disclose your feelings to him.

Like, yes, you’d had sex, but in the months of you hanging out after, you’d hardly done much beyond cuddling and hand holding. It was almost elementary the way the two of you courted and it’s unlike anything you’ve ever had before. It makes you appreciate Roy even more that he’s willing to go at your pace without pushing.

“I don’t think I asked you how your day was,” he says, still facing away from you.

You groan, thinking back on your long Friday, “It was long and hard.”

Roy turns around, pretending to be stabbed in the heart. “How will I ever compare?”

You snort, “I meant with the kids, dumbass.”

“Oh, thank god,” he says. You laugh again, reveling in how he looks over your curves before turning back around to shut off the stove. “Thought I might have to break our end of the year rules.”

You bite slightly at your bottom lip, eyes trailing over his strong shoulders and rippling arms that fly with each movement he makes. You’ve often thought of breaking the rule, too, but you can’t.

There was one night you came close, literally.

You’d spent the night, but only a few times and only ever if Lian wasn’t going to be there.

That particular night, you’d been on a walk together and stopped at a place for dinner that he’d heard good things about.

“This isn’t a date?” you’d asked.

“No,” Roy had responded cheekily. “I told you you’d know when it happens, baby.”

After dinner, you cuddled in his bed while you watched a movie. One thing led to another and the two of you ended up making out, groping and humping each other through the rest of it. It was entirely juvenile and yet it felt so much better than the usual sex you were used to.

The rest of the night was spent jacking off in front of each other. It became a competition to who could make the other come faster, a skill you were obviously better equipped to handle. The entire situation reminded you of your private sessions with him, however this time it was no longer anonymously.

You’d absolutely loved it.

Roy takes the pot off the stove just as Jason comes in.

“What’s up,” Jason greets. He looks over the two of you in feigned disinterest as he takes off his coat and sets down a large, black duffle bag.

By now, the Jason was used to your presence in their shared apartment. Half the time he’d join the two of you cuddling on the couch, the other half he’d lay in Roy’s bed kick the two of your asses at Mario Kart.

Roy always cooks enough for an army and always sets aside a plate for Jason. You’d become used to eating with the both of them when you were over here, so it’s no surprise when Roy sets out three bowls.

“Just finished up dinner, chatting about her day,” Roy replies and starts plating the pasta as Jason leans against the counter beside you.

“Oh?”

“Yeah.” You blush under the raven’s sudden attention, clearing your throat all while hoping he doesn’t see how much his presence alone throws you off. “It was announced that they’re making another round of budget cuts this year. I don’t know how much more of my other paycheck I can forfeit over for classroom supplies,” you sigh, forgetting your previous abashedness. “The kids deserve so much better and I know they learn a lot from the activities I create, but I’m running dry. With the cuts, I just don’t see how my lesson plans, at least as they are now, can stand.”

The rest of dinner goes smoothly with the conversation flowing easily among the three of you.

You’ve never met two people you bonded with more, let alone how fast you’ve grown attached to both of them. It’s honestly a bit scary, but you feel as if you can trust both of them. You definitely trust that you’ve made the right decision to hang around.

After helping with the dishes, you allow them to lead you out to the infamous balcony where all the previous misunderstandings had originated at. Jason lights up a Marlboro while Roy lights up a blunt.

The wind tangles your hair and sputters smoke in your face, but you can’t help but laugh. Your heart flutters as the three of you stand shoulder to shoulder, watching as the sun drenches the ugly Gotham skyscrapers in dreamy oranges and pinks.

➸💋➸

Monday, the school holds an impromptu celebration in the auditorium after a generous donation from the Wayne Foundation. You have to do a double take when you realize that Jason himself has shown up to deliver the huge check in his father’s honor.

Afterward, you watch as he meets your eyes before slipping into the hallway. The same teacher who helped you out last time sees this and offers to take your class back to the room before shooing you off with waggling brows.

School’s been dismissed ever since the end of the ceremony, so most kids are rushing to get their things to go play outside.

“I really appreciate it,” you tell her as you make to follow the raven-haired man. “I’ll just be a second, I promise.”

This particular hallway is deserted aside from Jason who’s loosened his tie.

“No kids?” he asks when he sees you.

You laugh at his odd greeting, “They’re on their way back to the classroom with the other class. I was just coming out here to see if you’d want to come back to my classroom with me.”

His brows raise, though his expression remains the same as ever. “Alright.”

You lead him down the hallway, turning around to shoot him a questioning gaze as he follows behind you instead of beside you.

“I don’t bite,” you jest when you spot the tell-tale sign of a smirk forming across is pale face.

He finally cracks a smile as he sidles up beside you, dwarfing you with his height.

“Darling, we both know that’s a lie.”

You giggle at the new nickname and try not to let him see how much it’s affecting you. Luckily, you round the corner and find your classroom nearly vacated. Most parents have already stopped through and now only Lian remains.

“Uncle Jason!” The little girl jumps on the man. He spins her around in his arms a few times before putting her down with a small smile. “My friends are all outside. Can I go?” she begs, looking between the two of you with puppy dog eyes you just know Roy’s taught her. “Please!”

“Sure, kid.”

With Jason’s blessing, she’s off.

You don’t have to wait long before you spot Lian running around with two other girls on the playground through your classroom window. Though there are parents and teachers out there keeping an eye on everything, you still pay attention to her out of habit.

Your phone vibrates on your desk, something Jason picks up to hand to you. He looks down and huffs in amusement as he flips your screen around to show you the cat meme Roy’s sent you with the note ‘almost there.’

“You guys are so fucking lame,” he says, though you can see the clear amusement behind his emerald eyes.

You blush and adjust your glasses a bit. “Definitely a long way from the fire escape,” you jest. Jason laughs at your joke, but you can see there’s something else on his mind. “What’s wrong?” you ask.

“Just that, you don’t mind me being hanging out when,” he clears his throat, looking around, then back down at you. “I’m not interrupting the two of you, am I?”

You definitely aren’t expecting that.

You had meet Jason first, well, at least, you’d fucked him first, but neither of you had ever discussed making it more official. Then the gala with the three of you to now hanging out with both of them. Jason was a closed book, never one to wear his emotions on his sleeve, so you never expected it to go much beyond sex, yet here he is, asking something that bares all.

Does this mean he wants something more from you? You know you wouldn’t mind it in the slightest, though it could complicate things with Roy. You’ve never detected any jealously between the two of them, but that didn’t mean the threesome was more than a one-off thing.

You can’t help but wonder: would he mind it being the three of you? If he didn’t mind, how would this even work?

At the very least, Jason seems just as confused with the situation as you are.

You blush as you reply, “I don’t think so.” After this, you mention something about not knowing if Roy minds, but Jason’s quick to assuage your worries.

“I don’t think so,” Jason repeats your statement.

You fill with relief. “I guess we’ll just have to ask him, then.”

Jason’s eyes flash with something you think, no, hope, is respect as Roy waltzes in.

“Ask who what?” Roy asks as he walks over to Jason to do their dumb handshake thing they always do when they greet each other.

“Speak of the devil,” Jason tones monotonously as he daps him up.

“Talkin’ about lil ol’ me, Jay?” he says in an off-country accent that makes you laugh and Jason rolls his eyes at the whole ordeal. “All good things, I hope,” Roy says, suddenly looking around the empty classroom. “Wait, where’s the stinker?” You smile as you point her out on the monkey bars. “God, she’s getting so big,” he sighs.

Roy’s obviously distracted by Lian’s cuteness, however you and Jason both seem fixated on him. You catch his emerald eyes and glance away quickly, feeling your cheeks heat up as you do.

Maybe Jason likes Roy just as much as you do.

Maybe all three of you really could…

You clear your throat, “Jason and I were just talking about the three of us.”

Roy’s eyes tear away from the open windows to face you with raised brows. It seems like he knows exactly what you’re insinuating. After all, how could he not? Regardless, he plays dumb.

“Oh?”

You bite at your lower lip, wishing Jason would say something, anything, but he seems content to have you make an ass of yourself. Either that, or he’s surprised you’d even bothered to bring it up.

There’s a shift in the air, an electrification of each and every particle of air as the three of you take each other in.

“Well, don’t leave me in suspense, babe. I mean-” Roy sputters to correct himself, realizing you’re in the classroom, but you’re hardly paying attention to that. No, you’re too busy looking at the way that Jason’s looking at the two of you.

“We’re all good, right?” Is what ends up coming out of your mouth. “What we have?”

His eyes glint knowingly. However, he continues to feign some semblance of ignorance as he won’t fully address what you’re really asking, “Of course. Right, Jay?”

Jason stiffens slightly before crossing his arms. “Right,” he agrees.

The sexual tension is palpable, giving you the answer to at least one of your questions. The threesome definitely wasn’t a one-off thing, then.

Though certain questions linger, you allow time to grace you with their answers.

For now, at least.

➸💋➸

A week later, Roy asks you out on your first official date when the two of you take Lian to celebrate the last day of school. You’re wiping Lian’s chin and trying to get her to lick where her Superman ice cream is dripping down the cone when he asks.

Your mouth opens, then shuts as a smile overtakes your face. “About time,” you joke.

“See,” he laughs and helps you wipe Lian up, "I told you you’d know when I asked you out.”

This is how you end up outside the new restaurant in Gotham that Roy had been boasting about.

You’re dressed in your comfiest V-neck sweater. It’s tucked partially into a form-fitting skirt, and you're wearing knee-high, heeled boots to match. Together with your recent clutch purchase, you look effortless yet completely classy. Though it’s technically summer, it’s been cloudy all day and the temperatures are still decently low for this time of year, making your outfit the perfect choice.

Filled with anxiety, you end up arriving ten minutes earlier than you’d planned to meet up, so you stand outside.

At first, you don’t mind watching as cars speed by and cut each other off in the downtown traffic, but soon you grow restless. A quick glance at your phone proves there’s only a few minutes left before the agreed upon time arrives.

Your leg bounces as you watch couple after couple enter the joint and wonder if you should go in as well.

Then, it starts to sprinkle.

Your leg bounces harder.

It’s as cliche as a 2000s chick flick, but not even a minute later, it honest to god starts pouring.

You seek shelter under the awning of the restaurant, but the spattering of the rain still manages to dust your outfit in dew. Coupled with the angry Gotham drivers who seem content to hit every rain-filled pothole, you’re soaked by the time Roy’s running twenty minutes late.

Not a single fucking text either, the cunt.

After all these months, have you really been reading it all wrong?

“The fuck are you doing?” You jump, turning to the deep voice from behind you. Jason’s standing there, much less drenched than you are, though still drenched nonetheless. “You trying to catch a cold?” he asks. Though his words are blunt, his tone is entirely gentle as he addresses you.

You don’t know why, but you start to sniffle. Soon, your tears join the chilling rain that’s dripping down your cooled cheeks.

“Sorry,” you say pathetically as he wraps you into a warm hug.

When he pulls back, you notice the concern on his face. He keeps his hands on your upper arms and begins to rub up and down to heat you back up.

“Did someone hurt you?” he growls, looking at you with a sternness that challenges you to dare lie to his face.

“No,” you sniffle again. “Well, not physically. No.” You shake your head, looking around in hopes that what you think is happening isn’t happening, but it is. Roy’s still nowhere to be found. “Roy stood me up,” you finally breathe out.

At this, he seems lost for words if only briefly.

“I’m sure it’s a mistake,” he says. At your admission, his dark brows knit together in confusion, looking around as if Roy will somehow appear out of thin air. “You sure you’re okay?” he asks, looking deeply into your eyes.

The way your stomach flips at the intimate action assures you that, yes, you’ll be fine. Through the pang of disappointment, you manage a smile.

“Yeah, I’ll be good.”

“You know,” Jason trails off suddenly, shoving his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket, “I haven’t eaten yet.”

He’s about as soaked as you are now. Together, the two of you look like you’d been dunked in the harbor a few feet away and, for some reason, it ends up making you feel less like shit.

“Oh?” you question. Your smile becomes genuine as you watch him blush.

He kicks lightly at the sidewalk. “And I was the one who recommended this joint to Roy.”

“Were you, now?” you ask coquettishly.

He pushes up your raindrop-covered glasses that have fallen down the bridge of your nose.

Suddenly, you don’t feel so cold.

“Have dinner with me?” he asks finally.

“I can do that.”

➸💋➸

Dinner goes perfectly.

So perfect that you end up back at his and Roy’s apartment after.

Your lips mash against his smooth ones as soon as you’re through the threshold of the door. Jason quickly rids you of your still damp clothes as the two of you tangle together. He pushes you down onto the couch before unbuttoning his button-up shirt.

“Should I leave the doors to the balcony open for you?” he teases easily.

You laugh, flinging the last of your clothes off as you draw him onto the couch with you. The two of you meld together perfectly as if you’ve known each other’s bodies for years.

It starts off with a deep kiss that soon turns sloppy as you arch against him, begging for friction that he keeps denying.

He settles his girth right in front of your entrance before, ultimately, dragging it lazily across your already slick folds. The two of you watch as if mesmerized by the salacious action. His tip catches on your clit, forcing a breathy sigh from you as you chase after his member desperately.

“You’re so fucking wet for me,” he mutters as he sits back to get a better view of you.

You bite at your bottom lip, wriggling down in hopes that he’ll finally give in and give you what you’ve been so patient for, but he doesn’t. Instead, his calloused fingers make practiced work against your clit and entrance.

“Jason,” you sigh shakily as he teases a finger closer and closer to your slit. “Please, I can’t take much more of this teasing. I need your cock, Jay- fuck!”

He smirks down at your flushed form, lowering himself so that he’s face to face with your twitching cunt. “Beg me, then,” your name is a sin rolling off his tongue as it makes brief contact with your pussy.

“So fucking good,” you whimper, wriggling your hips for more. “Please, I need you. Give it to me,” you beg.

He chuckles lowly with his breath, warming your inner thighs, “Good girl.”

The tip of his tongue strokes up and down the length of your cunt before flattening and granting you one slow, delicious lick that ends with him teasing at your clit.

Your hips arch upward against his mouth, granting him better access as his tongue and finger work in tandem on your leaking cunt. He’s too fucking good and you’re already feeling the iciness of an orgasm blooming from your lower stomach.

You need him in you, like, now, preferably.

The heat behind your eyes must convey this because he doesn’t have it within himself to continue teasing as he has been. He’s finally lining himself up with you, ready to stick it in while you squirm under him in anticipation.

Before he can, however, there’s a loud ‘thump’ before the front door bursts open.

You nearly jump out of your skin as the two of you turn around to see-

“She’s never gonna talk to me again, bro,” the costumed man from the alley laments. He’s too busy taking off his mud-covered, red boots to notice the two naked forms on the couch. “I fucked up the fucking date so fucking hard, dude. I got caught up in all this dumb shit and I totally lost track of time and I just know she fucking hates me for leaving her hanging-” You clear your throat, finally drawing his attention to you. “Oh, shit,” he curses, looking over your naked body in surprise before turning to Jason. “Oh, shit,” he finally looks down at his attire, “fuck me.”

There was no other person that voice could belong to, but…

“Roy?!”

The dude from the alley? Holy shit. The random tip and his rambling in the day that followed make so much more fucking sense now. Still naked, you get up and begin to check out his uniform.

“I thought you already knew?” He seems entirely confused and somewhat on edge.

So, that day in the classroom, he thought you’d been referring to his vigilantism?

“I guess I do now,” you trail off as you come upon him.

When you were in the alley, you do recall Jason calling him Arsenal… When you’d confronted him about his cam profile, inmyarsenal, you hadn’t known it’d been based off of a vigilante persona, let alone that Roy’s an actual vigilante.

Jason seems calm enough by all the recent revelations that you assume Jason knows about Roy’s alias, but does he know how you and Roy actually met, then?

“You know, most people would be devastated to find their date fucking their roommate,” Roy’s deep voice tickles at your ears as your hands come up to gently stroke his familiar, freckled arms.

You remove his mask as final confirmation that, yes, this is Roy.

“You’ve watched me fuck multiple guys at this point,” you counter, still trying to add everything up in your head. “I was pissed,” you admit, referencing his earlier rambling about you.

“Was?” Roy asks hopefully.

You nod. “But now I understand why you couldn’t be there.”

You watch as he breathes a sigh of relief, but the moment is short-lived.

“Now I’m lost,” Jason says.

So, Roy hadn’t told him about how you’d met.

You turn to him, then at Roy. “You didn’t tell him?” you ask, feeling entirely confused.

Roy seems abashed. “Why would I tell him?’

You shrug, completely surprised he never mentioned to his friend that he’s your #1 fan.

Jason, however, completely misreads the conversation entirely. “You’re a vigilante like us?”

“Like you?” you question, squinting your eyes at him, adjusting your glasses to get a better look at him. Is Jason really a vigilante, too? You guess it would make more sense why Jason seems so calm to live with a vigilante, but who is he? It’s not long before your brain trickles back to Roy’s odd questioning over your Red Hood obsession and, now that you think about it, Jason is his height. It comes to you instantly, like a lightbulb’s gone off in your brain. Jason seems to realize this, too, because he suddenly stands up from the couch and crosses the minimal distance between the two of you. “Red Hood?” you try.

You’re now sandwiched between two tall, strong men who are, you know, fucking vigilantes. If you hadn’t fucked both of them already and been hanging around them for months, you might be a little more scared by your predicament. Okay, no, even still, you feel pretty fucking scared.

“What are we doing, Roy?” Jason asks, his deep voice stirring every fibre of your being.

It’s like you’re not even there sandwiched between the two of them as they begin a nonverbal conversation through the intensity of their green eyes alone.

“You tell me,” he responds.

You’re still very much naked, so is Jason, as your head bounces from side to side as you follow along with their seemingly private conversation.

“Wait,” you interject both of them, “we are talking about the two of you fucking me and not killing me, right?”

Their vibrant eyes finally glance down at you. Before you can blink, both of them take one of your arms to pin you against the wall.

“You tell no one,” Jason’s voice is somehow even deeper than it’d been not even seconds prior as he threatens you. Though it’s obviously meant to intimidate, you feel completely at ease in their hold.

“Promise,” you answer with an easy laugh. “You do know that Roy let me talk about you, like, the entire time on our date.”

“It wasn’t a date!” Roy exclaims, loosening his grip around your wrist as he does so.

“You got a boner,” you counter easily.

Roy’s hands completely leave you as they motion to your nude form. “Because you’re hot as fuck!” he says it like it explains everything that’s going down.

It seems like Jason’s content to watch the two of you bicker as one of his calloused hands trails along the expanse of your soft skin.

“I guess that explains why you were my #1 fan ever since the start,” you joke lightly.

“Still am, babe.”

“#1 fan,” Jason’s eyebrows furrow together as he trails off in confusion as he trails off. “You knew about her streams?”

“You knew about them?” Roy asks back, sounding equally as confused.

Now, no one’s hands are on you.

“I walked in on one,” Jason responds through a smirk.

Roy’s jaw drops. “You’re fucking lying. Say ‘cap,’ bro.”

Do your ears deceive you, or does Roy actually sound, dare you say, jealous?

“You got an in-person private show, Roy. All Jason saw was me squirting. Right, Jay?” you try to console him, but it doesn’t work. It seems, instead, that your words have only made things worse.

“She squirted for you?!” Roy’s voice cracks around his disbelief.

“Pretty sure she squirted for both of us in Bruce’s office,” Jason points out. The raven doesn’t seem to understand his friend’s reaction, but it doesn’t mean he isn’t going to be an asshole to him because of it. “Maybe I’m mixing this shit up, though,” he says coyly, smirking when Roy damn near whimpers.

“Jay,” he trails off pathetically.

You think he’s about to cry or, perhaps, attempt to beat the shit out of Jason, but all he does is clash his chapped lips against Jason’s soft ones. The raven’s lips are still wet and plump from when you’d stained them with your red lipstick not even minutes prior. Now, Roy’s spit works against yours and Jason’s as he cups his friend’s inky, curly hair in between his freckled fingers.

Roy bites down on Jason’s already abused lips, earning a well-deserved, guttural moan from the man.

Watching the two of them devour each other so wholeheartedly stirs butterflies in your stomach until you’re no longer able to contain them. Your hand easily slips down the expanse of your stomach as it’s done many times before as it slowly slinks towards where your clit twitches in anticipation. No, you can’t deny yourself for any longer. Your finger flicks lightly at your clit, watching as Jason starts to take off Roy’s gear as if he’s done it many times before and, you suppose he has. It only turns you on even more.

Roy breaks away from Jason, but Jason continues to mouth lewdly at Roy’s pale neck. All the while, Roy’s eyes trail over your flushed form as you work at your wet pussy.

Finally, Roy’s as bare as you and Jason.

Roy moans like a bitch under Jason’s care. The tantalizing noise alone sends an exhilarating heat down your stomach to the point you have to stop rubbing at your clit so you don’t come prematurely.

You let out a small moan, but it’s loud enough for them to hear over their panting.

Both of their eyes fall on you, then to your clenched fist right above your cunt. Apparently, this won’t do. Suddenly, you’re being lifted up by Roy. Your legs wrap around his torso as he draws you in for a deep, sloppy kiss. Meanwhile, Jason looms behind you, biting and sucking loving marks against your skin as they lead you into Jason’s bedroom.

You don’t have time to take in the lackluster decor, nor the edgy posters he has partially unfurled on the walls. No, your attention is solely on the two god-like men in front of you.

“I was in the middle of eating her out before you got home,” Jason supplies as he sinks to his knees, settling in between your thighs. You can’t contain your gasp when he pulls your sitting form closer to the edge of his mattress to get a better angle. “Feel free to join in.”

He descends upon you with greater fervor than earlier, as if weaponizing your moans purely to make Roy feel like shit for ditching you. Jason slurps lewdly against your dripping cunt, lapping and sucking as obnoxiously as he can.

It works. Roy groans as he palms at his bobbing erection, watching as you throw your head back. You swear he nearly comes right then and there from the noises, Jason’s eager mouth is producing, coupled with your unrestrained gasps of pleasure. Before you can get too close, they switch.

Roy’s tongue rigidly runs along your folds before flicking teasingly at your entrance. You can’t help but buck against his chapped lips for more, but he moves back to prevent it.

He smirks at you. “Am I forgiven, baby?” the redhead asks, voice filled with amusement.

“Fuck you, Harper,” you hiss, attempting to glare, but it’s ruined when he finally flicks at your clit. “Ah!” you exclaim. With this, you arch up into his face, grasping at his fiery locks to draw him nearer to your aching cunt. “So fucking good.”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he responds cheekily.

Jason trails light kisses along your spread thighs before dragging Roy by a fistful of hair over to his mouth so he can taste you again. Once Jason’s had his fill, he forces Roy back down on your cunt, rubbing his eager tongue against your throbbing pussy.

It feels insane.

You’re shaking as you watch them make out with each other in between your thighs. Their tongues purposefully trickle out to include you in their sloppy session, causing you to unleash a sexy moan that stops both of them in their tracks.

They meet your half-lidded eyes with hated, hungry looks.

Thus starts the second act of the night.

Roy joins you on the mattress, scooping you up into his lap while Jason rummages around in his nightstand.

“Roy,” you whimper.

He leans his forehead against yours with a sinful grin. “I love it when you say my name like that, baby.”

You hear a pop, then feel Jason join the two of you on the bed, but you’re entirely preoccupied with Roy’s chapped lips. His sturdy arms gently guide you to lay flat on the bed as he straddles you and pins you against the mattress with an unrelenting grip. Meanwhile, his other hand travels lower, only stopping when he finally comes into contact with your slick folds.

You slurp your slick and Jason’s spit as your mouth glides salaciously against the redhead’s, only stopping when he abruptly gasps. You pull away quickly, afraid you’ve done something wrong when you see Jason’s thick, lube-covered index finger slipping in and out of Roy’s ass.

“Oh, shit,” you breathe, taking in the erotic scene.

Not only are they putting on a show for you tonight, but it’s clear that Roy’s putting in overtime to make up for missing the date. You don’t get to watch for long, however, before the pad of Roy’s finger teases your twitching entrance.

Roy stretches you while Jason stretches him from behind until, after what seems like forever, Jason’s finally lining up behind him.

“Jay, I swear I’m stretched enough,” Roy begs, looking behind him with a slight pout that Jason rolls his eyes at. “I need you to fill me up with your cock. It’s been so fucking long, Jay,” he whines.

You can’t help but touch yourself as you watch Roy become accustomed to Jason’s impressive girth.

“Still good?” Jason asks.

You swear Roy’s drooling.

“Mmm,” he says in lieu of a response. “You’re so fucking good to me-” Cue Roy’s usual sex babbling. You can’t help but smile as you watch Jason pick up the pace with each praise Roy sings.

“You gonna leave her hanging?”

Roy’s eyes snap into focus, locking onto your gaze that’s taking in the scene in front of you greedily.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he says. The redhead winks down at you before shuffling around a bit to line up with your entrance. Roy rubs the tip of his cock against your wet entrance before slowly pushing in with a groan, “I don’t think I’m ever gonna get used to this shit, princess.”

You blush at the nickname, recalling the night at the Wayne Gala when he’d first bestowed it upon you.

It takes a few moments, but the three of you finally nail down the perfect rhythm. Once you do, the three of you can’t stop the cries of pleasure that it produces.

Jason fucks into Roy, who uses the momentum to fuck into you. When the redhead retreats, his ass arches further onto Jason’s cock, only to be fucked into again.

After a few minutes, Jason makes a show of fucking Roy for you, choking him. Eventually, he forces Roy’s head upward by pulling his long red locks so their lips can clash upside down and finishes the kiss by spitting in Roy’s expectant mouth. It’s almost too much. You feel like this is hotter than any stream you’ve ever done. The raven stares him down with his sex-hazed eyes before they darkly fall across your blushing form.

“Look,” Jason forces Roy’s flushed face forward to focus on you, “she likes it when I use you like the whore you are, Roy.”

The freckled man groans, eyebrows furrowing as if he’s about to come, but Jason won’t allow it. His calloused palm captures Roy’s leaking cock as it slickly pulls out of your cunt. “Jay, please,” Roy begs with his voice cracking. Jason spanks him once on each cheek, something Roy takes greedily. “Fuck!” Roy moans. “I wanna come. I wanna come so bad- yes!”

Jason finally releases his cock, allowing him to pump into you again before picking up his own pace with Roy’s ass.

Your nails scratch down his freckled back as he starts thrusting. It’s desperate now, like he’s primally fucking into you, completely lost in the pleasure of it all. He’s hitting all the right places inside of you, milking out slick noises in tandem with the ones Jason’s producing from Roy’s wrecked hole. It’s so fucking hot, you can hardly believe that you’re actually a part of this.

“So fucking tight,” Jason says through gritted teeth, smacking Roy’s ass once again. “Tell me you want my shit,” he practically growls as he once again picks up the pace.

You moan. Apparently, this is exactly what Roy wants as he then decides to amp it up for you.

“Please, Jay,” Roy begs easily, coy eyes never leaving you as he dirty talks Jason behind him. “I need you to fill me up with your come. I want your shit leaking out of my sore little hole, baby.”

Jason comes first. His breathing hitches and he releases inside of Roy with three brutal snaps of his hips.

“Shit,” he groans as he pulls out of Roy with a lewd squelch.

You don’t get to catch your breath, however. No, Roy continues to give you everything he’s got.

“‘M gonna fuck you so good, baby,” Roy prattles on from above you. “You’re gonna come all over my dick like the slut you are, aren’t you?”

You bite at your lower lip as you nod. In all honesty, you’re surprised you haven’t come already. “Only if you promise to come all over me, too,” you moan.

“I can do that,” he responds with a fucked-out smirk.

Meanwhile, Jason moves to lay beside you on his side so that he can play with your nipples. He gently leans in to draw your lips against his. They move together fluidly, only disrupted momentarily by the force of Roy’s hips as he fucks into you. Soon, Jason's fingers trail lower until you can’t contain your pleasure any longer.

You’re gasping loudly at this point, unable to hold back your vocal response to Roy’s onslaught against your dripping cunt. Jason drinks the pathetic noises in as his tongue tangles lewdly with your own.

Roy whimpers as Jason’s come leaks out of his abused hole and onto his thighs.

You feel the sticky substance wetting your inner thighs as Roy expertly thrusts into you. He leaves you writhing against the sheets and crying out their names as you climax on Roy’s pink-tipped cock.

Call it post-orgasm haze, call it stupidity, but you need his come fucked inside of you.

“Come in me,” you say airily, still coming down from your high. “Fuck it all into me, Roy,” you gasp as another icy wave wracks over your body. “I’m such a fucking come slut for you, baby. I-" You don’t even get the chance to finish your sentence before Roy’s face twists up salaciously as he fills your cunt with his warm want.

Roy collapses on your other side as the three of you catch your breath.

The rest of the night ends with sugary snacks, horror movie reruns and snuggles.

It’s… perfect.

A/N: so glad to see you guys enjoying this au so much! last chap is outlined but not yet written soo, in the meantime, be sure to check out my pinned post for my other fics!

[next: coming soon] || masterlist || pinned || ways to support

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

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wambsgansshoelaces · 8 months

Note

prompt number 4 with shivvy please 😇

Honey

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

Siobhan Roy x Reader

summary: cuddles, baked goods, and insecurity

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

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

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

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

Word Count: 1.628k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Siobh-”

“Come on.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You take her chin and guide her mouth to yours.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Your favorite,” you murmur back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Honey, pure sunlight, liquid fucking gold.

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

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suddencolds · 8 months

Text

The Worst Timing | [4/?]

happy friday, everyone! here is part 4 (5.3k words) as a little pre-valentines-day installment :) [part 1] is here! this chapter was a pain to edit; i think i deleted + rewrote about a fifth of it in the revision process

anyways, i promised this chapter would be the wedding, so... please enjoy the wedding

this is an OC fic - here is a list of everything I've written w these two!

Summary: Yves invites Vincent to a wedding, in France, where the rest of his family will be in attendance. It's a very important wedding, so he's definitely not going to let anything—much less the flu—ruin it. (ft. fake dating, an international trip, downplaying illness, sharing a hotel room)

—

It’s a hectic morning.

Yves wakes up with the sinking realization that the medicine he took yesterday has worn off entirely. That is to say, he wakes up with the kind of unshakeable exhaustion he only feels when he’s coming down with something bad. His head is throbbing—sharp, cutting pain lances through his skull as soon as he finds it in himself to get out of bed.

All of that is inconsequential. He takes two pills from the cold/flu medicine blister pack with a generous few sips of water, brushes his teeth, washes his face in the sink with water cold enough to jolt him awake, and heads out.

He finds Aimee early, to ask her if she needs any help with anything. Then he makes himself available to the relatives that need him. There’s a last minute printing issue with the seating cards, so he goes through all of them again, finds the ones that are misprinted, talks extensively with the hotel’s front desk to explain what selection he needs to get reprinted and why, gets redirected towards the hotel’s business center, and finally gets them reprinted properly in one of the storerooms in the back. He lines the cards up and cuts them manually with a paper cutter he finds in one of the conference rooms on the first floor.

Then he takes a shuttle to the wedding venue to help set out all the seating cards according to a seating plan Genevieve texts him, but it’s windy enough outside that he has to find a way to weigh them all down. The venue has card holder stands, thankfully, but he doesn’t figure that out until he spends a good fifteen minutes asking around for them.

Then he waits twenty minutes in the cold for the shuttle back—the shuttles are thankfully in operation, but they’re running infrequently enough at this hour to be a slight inconvenience. By the time he gets on the shuttle, he’s shivering hard, even in his jacket, and his hands are almost numb from the cold.

The temperature certainly doesn’t help with the pressure in his sinuses, or with the sore throat that he’s had for a few days now. Perhaps it’s a blessing that the shuttle is near-empty save for him, because no one is there to question it when he ducks into his elbow with every loud, wrenching sneeze, or the coughing fit that almost inevitably follows.

When he gets back, he finds a sewing kit for Roy’s sister, Solaine—they don’t sell them at the convenience store downstairs, but he finds some in one of the tourist shops on the opposite end of the first floor of the hotel—for some last minute fixes to the way it’s hemmed. He delivers some safety pins from Victoire to one of his aunts, picks up breakfast pastries from the café across the street for his parents.

He takes a quick, hot shower, hot enough that the entire bathroom steams up because of it, and hopes that no one can hear the way every sneeze sounds so terribly, unnecessarily loud, even in the presence of his rapidly depleting voice. He rehearses his speech from memory and then rehearses it again, thinking through his notes on the pauses and the reflections. He irons his suit out, for good measure.

If he stops and lingers too long, it becomes quickly evident just how exhausted he is, just how unwell he feels when there’s nothing strictly keeping him on his feet. So instead, he makes himself useful where he can, busies himself with whatever he finds, if only because it’s the best distraction he can think of—if only because it’s the one distraction he has the luxury to take.

—

Lunch is a quick affair—he’s not especially hungry, and there will be more than enough food at the reception, so he grabs two pastries from downstairs, a coffee with two shots of espresso, and heads back up. Sitting down and eating them in the hotel room is somehow worse than running errands—like this, he can’t chalk his exhaustion up to his hectic morning, can’t attribute the heavy, shivery feeling that’s been following him all day the cold weather outside.

Three more hours until the wedding. Anticipation always feels the worst, like this, when it’s nearly inseparable from worry—just a tangle of emotions in his chest.

He exhales.

Vincent is off—somewhere. Getting lunch, maybe, or getting ready for the wedding somewhere else. Yves has exchanged maybe all of twenty words with him this morning—do you know if our room has a sewing kit? Or, I’m going to stop by the café downstairs. Do you want me to get you anything?

Truthfully, Yves isn’t feeling much better today. His nose is running a little less now, thanks to the cold medicine, but the headache that he’s had all morning hasn’t gotten any less persistent. Even with his suit jacket on, he still can’t quite manage to get warm. He’s sneezing a little less, but each sneeze catches him off guard, harsh and sudden and embarrassingly loud.

But Vincent—who is, on average, unusually perceptive—hasn’t said anything about any of it. Yves tries not to think too hard about it. The less Vincent is worried about him, the better. Maybe he’s just preoccupied with other things.

He finishes his pastries at the small coffee table in the living room, downs half of his coffee, and then leans back in his chair and shuts his eyes.

His head hurts. He feels dizzy, even though he’s sitting perfectly still—as if the ground beneath him isn’t quite as steady as it should be—a strange feeling of vertigo. Surely if he sits here for just awhile longer, that feeling will go away.

He doesn’t fall asleep, exactly, but it’s a close thing. The discomfort doesn’t let up, either—no amount of massaging his temples seems to make the headache any better, and no amount of shuteye seems to do anything to lessen the exhaustion he feels. Maybe if he takes a nap he’ll wake up feeling passably fine. But he thinks it’s just as likely that he’ll get woken up early—by a phone call, or a text, or a knock on the door—to be told that he’s needed somewhere, and that alone is enough of a deterrent to keep him from properly falling asleep.

From somewhere at the edge of consciousness, he hears footsteps out in the hallway.

Someone’s here, then. He should let them in. But before he can bring himself to stand up and head over to the door, he hears the sound of the room card being inserted into its slot, hears the click of the door as it unlocks.

Someone—Vincent—shuts the door quietly behind him. When he spots Yves, he looks a little surprised.

“I didn’t think I’d find you here,” he says.

Yves blinks. His face feels unusually hot. “I got lunch,” he says, clearing his throat. “Well, I fidished it, but if I’d known you’d be getting back, I would’ve gotten somethidg for you.”

“I’m surprised you made it back,” Vincent says, leaving his shoes in a neat line at the door. “Are you done putting out all the fires now?” Yves laughs, though it turns into a cough. “For the foreseeable future, yes. Sorry i— hhH!” He twists over his shoulder, away from Vincent, to cover the sneeze in a manner that does not come at the expense of his suit jacket. “hHh-! iiDDzschh-IEW! snf-! Sorry I’ve barely been around this mornidg.”

Vincent is his own person—Yves has no doubt that he’s entirely self-sufficient when it comes to travel—but still, Yves is the only person Vincent really knows here. He’s not sure he can claim he’d be good company in his current state, but he feels like maybe he ought to be around more often—to translate, or to serve as the conversational buffer, or something else.

“It’s no problem,” Vincent says, frowning. “You were busy.”

“Still. If we were actually datidg, I think this would make me a slightly terrible boyfriend.”

“If we were actually dating, I would understand that you have important things in your life to attend to,” Vincent says.

Yves laughs. “Like cutting sixty sheets of paper into even rectangles?”

“Is that what you were out doing all morning?”

“Among other things.”

“Then yes,” Vincent says. He stops just short of the coffee table where Yves is sitting. “Are you finally off of paper-cutting duty?”

“God, I hope so. Weddings are always so hectic, even if you’re only peripherally idvolved. It’s like everyone’s worried about things going wrong beforehand, but then when you finally get to them, they always go fine.”

“Have you been to a lot of weddings in your life?”

Yves considers this. “Cobpared to the average person? Probably.”

“Then you should listen to your own advice,” Vincent tells him.

“What?”

“It’s going to be fine.”

Yves blinks. If Vincent can tell that he is nervous after a three minute conversation with him, then Yves must really not be doing a good job at hiding it.

“That’s what I’m hoping for,” he says. He really is tired. Maybe another cup of coffee, or two, will help—he can hardly think of anything more mortifying than nodding off halfway through the vows. “I don’t think I’ll forgive mbyself if it doesn’t.”

—

It’s a near-perfect wedding.

The weather is as temperate as it gets at this time of year. It’s sunny out, and brisk enough that no one feels stuffy in their suit jackets and their summer dresses.

The wedding venue is like something out of a storybook—the white stone paths, arcing around a circular fountain, the water a clear, searing blue; the rows and rows of flowers that crowd around it. Flowers—roses, peonies, tulips, gardenias—line the walkways, strung up over arches in crisscrossing rows of sprawling green leaves.

When Aimee and Genevieve walk down the aisle, Leon grins; Victoire turns away to wipe at her eyes. When they say their vows, Yves feels a tightness in his chest, a fierce sort of pride. He knew, of course, that this moment would make him emotional.

But nothing compares to seeing them here, right here, smiling. Aimee’s hair is half up, half down, held in place with a half moon clip that winks white under the sunshine. Genevieve is wearing a long white dress—her hair is braided into a crown, threaded with flowers, a translucent lace veil settling over her shoulders. The afternoon sunlight trickles over them, gleaming. And Yves—

Yves has always believed in love.

Perhaps it’s overly idealistic—he’s certainly been told as much before—but he believes in it still. He believed in it even before he started dating Erika, and he believed in it after they broke up, too. It’s not so much the idea that people can be soulmates, more the idea that people can spend thirty or fifty or seventy years together and not tire of each other, the idea that the little mundanities of life might be made special in the presence of someone whose existence sublimates them endlessly into interest. The idea that two people who may not ever fully understand each other might try, ceaselessly, to get close.

He remembers: hearing about Genevieve, over text and over call; at first peripherally, but then frequently. He regrets, sometimes, that he wasn’t there more for the both of them, that he could only help from an ocean away with celebrations and holidays and special events, that he still doesn’t know Genevieve as well as he’d like to.

But a part of him thinks, now, that maybe it was a privilege, too, watching from afar. Hearing about the dates secondhand, from Aimee, all of it filtered through her own excitement—hearing Aimee talk about everything that left an impression on her. It would have been different, of course, if he had really been there. But in a way, it is a little fitting that his first impression of Genevieve—his first mental portrait of her—was by someone who was already already half in love with her.

And he remembers: Aimee, unusually quiet one night over Facetime, sitting cross legged in the living room of their new apartment. The world, dark outside through the living room windows, even though for him it was only mid afternoon. The way she’d smiled, wistful, staring off into the distance at some point he couldn’t see. I think I might marry her, she had said.

She had said it like she was certain. He finds himself going back to that moment, to her certainty. He’s always wondered—how had she known? How had she been so sure of it, even then?

But the way Genevieve takes Aimee’s hands, during the vow—the way her hands tremble slightly with it, the particular carefulness with which she handles the ring—all of it makes him think that he’s been right to believe in this, in them, in love. After all, what more convincing proof is there than this?

—

All in all, it is nearly perfect.

Nearly, save for how unwell he feels, how self conscious he is about not making it expressly known. Yves shivers through the entire ceremony, occasionally lifting the collar of his suit jacket to muffle a harsh, wrenching sneeze into the fabric. He’ll get it dry cleaned later. Beside him, Vincent looks to him, his head tilted in question—and, after Yves smiles apologetically at him—says nothing.

He makes it through, as a combination of everything—the adrenaline, the cold medicine, the four espressos he’d had this morning and the energy drink he’d downed right before the ceremony to keep himself awake.

He doesn’t have a thermometer, doesn’t know what kind of temperature he’s running, but he has a hunch that it’s higher than it should be. It’s freezing outside—cold enough that he can’t keep himself from shivering, even when he tries—but no one else seems to be as cold as he is. He can only hope, now, that no one else notices him ducking into his jacket, periodically, to catch another sneeze, or wiping his nose on the back of his hand to keep it from openly running.

The world looks fever-bright, fuzzy around some edges but unusually sharp around others. He’s awake, but in the sort of uncomfortable, all-consuming way where it feels like he’s too nervous to get any sleep at all.

He feels only half-present during the cocktail hour, while Aimee and Genevieve take their pictures. He thinks he should make himself useful somehow—help with positioning props for photos or with setting up the proper lighting or whatever else—or, at the very least, converse with the relatives that he hasn’t had much of a chance to catch up with yet.

Instead, he sits, half hunched over at one of the side tables, and tries not to shiver too visibly. His head hurts with the sort of sharp, incessant pain that makes it near-impossible to focus on anything else.

“Are you okay?” Vincent asks him.

Yves looks over to him. Vincent looks concerned—his eyebrows are furrowed, his mouth set into a frown—and Yves—

Yves considers it, for a moment: telling Vincent the truth. That it’s taking everything in him to appear even remotely presentable. That a part of him is nervous that he’ll crash before he gives his speech. That he might have overestimated his own ability to get through four more hours of this, outside in the cold.

“Of course,” he says instead, with the best smile he can muster, because what else is there to say?

He doesn’t end up having any drinks, even though he’s usually a fan of cocktails. Leon offers him one, and when Yves shakes his head, shrugs and heads off to find someone else, which Yves thinks is probably the best. He’s a little too out of it to keep tabs on where all the others are—there are enough people that it’d be hard to spot everyone in the first place, but like this, it feels impossible.

And Vincent is… surprisingly, absent, for much of it. Yves considers texting him a couple times, just to see where he might be, but then decides against it. If Vincent has found something fun to do, then Yves definitely isn’t going to keep him from doing it.

Except, a small part of him says, he’d explicitly told Vincent not to worry about him. It doesn’t have to be your problem, he’d said, and Vincent had stared back at him, blankly, except was his expression really blank, then? Hadn’t he seemed a little hurt? After all of this is over, Yves really ought to apologize to him for all of the trouble—for making this whole wedding a lot more stressful than it should’ve been.

Vincent had known, after all, that he was nervous just this morning, even though Yves hadn’t wanted for it to show. And perhaps Vincent has always been perceptive, but Yves likes to think he isn’t always so obvious. Vincent is here to enjoy his vacation in France, first and foremost. Yves doesn’t want anything—not the fever he feels brewing, not the nervousness he feels regarding the wedding—to get in the way of that.

But right now, Vincent is nowhere to be found, so he tables the apology for later. For now, he just has to get through the entirety of the wedding. He spends a good part of the hour in the same seat, blowing his nose into cocktail napkins, wishing he had packed something warmer that would fit the dress code.

He makes polite conversation with whoever stops by, and tries—and fails—to ignore the fact that it feels like his head is going to split. Maybe he should’ve picked up some aspirin at the convenience store, too, though it’s not like he has the time to go back and get it now. And, anyways, as painful as it is, it’s really just a headache. How bad could it be?

—

At six, he finds his seat for dinner. A couple minutes later, Vincent takes a seat next to him. Yves turns to speak to him, only, he has to turn away to muffle a throat-scraping fit of coughs into his elbow.

The coughing fit lasts longer than he anticipates. When he looks up at last, Vincent is already in conversation with the person next to him, who Yves recognizes to be one of Genevieve’s friends—perhaps one of the ones he ate dinner with the night before, though Yves can’t be sure. Yves hunts down another cocktail napkin to blow his nose into—it’s starting to run worse now that the sun is starting to set.

When it comes time to give his toast, he’s afraid, for a moment, that he might forget what to say. That he might trip up mid-speech, despite all of the practice. That his current affliction might make itself clearly, embarrassingly apparent right when everyone’s attention is focused on him.

But the speech goes well. He gives his speech in French. His voice is noticeably off, but he hasn’t lost it entirely, and if he has to resort to clearing his throat as quietly as he can in between sentences, it’s a small sacrifice. Aimee giggles at the anecdote he tells about her in grad school, texting him about meeting Genevieve for the first time at a networking event. He throws in a couple inside jokes—references to things he’s heard his extended family laugh about during their yearly summer reunions, things that he can tie back into the wedding that he hopes might land well with this audience—and then he tells everyone about a surprise party he worked with Genevieve to plan, last summer, for Aimee’s birthday: how she’d stayed up late to make sure everything was carefully accounted for. How he’d known, then, from how seriously she was taking it, by how well she seemed to know Aimee already, that she would be the one.

The jokes seem to land, for the way everyone—buoyed from the adrenaline of the wedding and in part thanks to the cocktails, he’s sure—laughs, and by the end, Genevieve is beaming, and Aimee breaks tradition to run up to him and give him a tight hug. After that, he asks everyone to raise their glasses in a toast—“To Aimee and Genevieve,” he says, “what a joy it is to see the team you’ve been rooting for win,” and the room erupts into clamor—into applause and cheer and the resounding clinking of glasses.

Then someone he recognizes as one of Genevieve’s closest friends stands to give her toast, and for the first time today, Yves lets himself relax in his seat. Only, it isn’t really relaxing—after all of the caffeine, he feels simultaneously exhausted and strangely, artificially alert, in a way that feels a little wrong.

The rest of the wedding should be smooth sailing, he thinks. The ceremony is over. His speech was fine. He just needs to stay through dinner and the cake cutting, and then he can ride the shuttle back with everyone else, and then—

—And then he’ll be back at his hotel room, where he can apologize to Vincent for perhaps being the very reason why this vacation hasn’t been as stress-free as it should’ve been, considering that it’s likely one of the few reprieves he and Vincent are supposed to get until busy season winds down.

He blinks, rubs a hand over his face, sniffling. He really does feel dizzy.

It’s usually like this. Yves thinks he should probably be wiser by now. If there’s anything he’s learned from past experiences—attending that end-of-semester crew meeting with the flu, or getting through the second half of finals week his senior year of university with a high fever—it’s that half a week of ignoring all of his symptoms is going to catch up to him eventually.

Usually he’s better at defining what constitutes eventually.

He feels a familiar prickle in his nose—the kind that he knows once he gives in to will plague him for the rest of the hour. The cold medicine must be wearing off. Better to do this elsewhere—anywhere instead of here, on the courtyard, where everyone is eating dinner.

“I’ll be right back,” he says to Vincent. Then, without waiting for a response, he rises from his seat and heads off in the direction of the nearest restroom. There’s one in the main building, past the catering stations, the ballroom, the indoor bar.

“Hey, Yves,” someone—his sister—says, when he’s halfway to the building.

He stops walking. “What’s up?”

“You nailed that speech,” she says.

“In no small part thadks to you,” Yves says, forcing himself to turn and face her with a smile. “I’m glad we cut it down. And by we I mean, mostly you.”

“You were a hit,” Victoire says. “And it was funny. I liked the anecdotes you picked. I don’t think people would’ve minded if it were longer.”

“Three mbidutes was the perfect length. Ady longer and people would’ve started losidg idterest— hHh-!” Yves thinks, a little frustratedly, that he always has the most inconvenient timing. “Excuse mbe, I— HHehh!” He lifts his arm to his face, twisting away. “hHhEH’iiDZSSchh’iiEW!”

When he turns back around to face her, Victoire is staring at him with the sort of calculating look that Yves is sure is not a good thing.

“You’re still sick?” she asks.

He blinks at her. “A little,” he says. “I’ll get some sleep todight.”

She nods. “Does Vincent know?”

The question startles him into laughing, which he immediately regrets, for the way it makes him cough. “That I’mb sick?” he asks. “Yeah, I’d assume so. We share a room.”

“Assume? So you haven’t talked to him about it?”

“Whether or ndot I have a cold is not the mbost enthralling conversation topic,” Yves says.

“But you’re dating,” she says, as if that explains everything.

It explains nothing. “Yes, glad you ndoticed.”

“I just mean that — I mean, he got breakfast with us the other day, which you weren’t there for, and then we had the rehearsal dinner, which he wasn’t invited to. And during the cocktail hour, you were sitting alone.”

“I’mb not sure where you’re goidg with this,” Yves says, if only because he doesn’t want to be having this conversation right now. “But if you’re wondering whether—” He veers away again, pressing his arm to his face. “hh… Hehh-! hhHH’GKTT-SHHiiew!Ugh, sorry… Hh… HEHh’IIDZZSCHh-yyEEew! snf-! If you’re wondering whether we got into a fight, or sobething, then the answer is no.”

“It’s not that.” Victoire hesitates, for a moment, as if she’s still thinking about what to say. She probably is. She’s always been deliberate with her words. “It kind of seems like—well, like you’re doing that thing you always do.”

“What thidg I always do?”

“You know.” She looks at him, her expression carefully, deceptively neutral. “Avoiding the people who care about you when something’s wrong.”

“I have ndo idea what you’re talking about.” Yves glances wistfully over to the bathroom. “I do really ndeed to pee, you know.”

He half expects her to press, but she just sighs. “Okay,” she says. “Don’t let me keep you.”

It’s a convenient out, and he takes it. The walk over is thankfully not too long—the bathroom turns out to be located just a couple hallways down from the entrance, but it’s hidden enough that it’s a little hard to find. For now, that’s a good thing.

He imagines the wedding party might move inside shortly after dinner, but as it stands, the building is mercifully empty. The restroom on the first floor is nicer than expected—warm lighting, floor to ceiling mirrors, polished white sinks on a black granite countertop. He braces himself against the countertop, suppressing another shiver.

His nose is running slightly. He reaches over and grabs a couple paper towels from the dispenser, just to be safe.

It’s not a moment too early. It’s only moments after that he’s pitching forwards into the paper towels with a harsh—

“HhH’iiDZSSCHh-IIEW!”

The sound echoes off the tiled walls. Yves finds himself coughing, afterwards. The medicine must really be wearing off, then, for the way his nose is starting to run incessantly—for the way the discomfort prickles at his skin, suggesting a fever. It’s a good thing there’s no one here to see him like this.

“hHEHh’iIZssCHH-iiEW! snf-! hHEh… HDDt’TSSCHH-iEEW!” The sneezes are harsher than usual, too, and forceful enough to snap him forward at the waist. He stays hunched over for a moment, steadying himself with the side of the countertop, and tries, somewhat unsuccessfully, to catch his breath.

The bathroom feels frigidly cold. He shivers, reaches up with trembling hands to try to button up his suit. His nose is starting to tickle again. It feels like he might be here forever, like one wrong breath might be enough to—

“hhH…. hHEH…. hhHEH’DJJJSHH’iiEEW!” The paper towels in his hand must be drenched now, but before he can get a chance to replace them, his breath catches again. “hhEH’GKTT-SHhhEw!” It’s immediately clear, from the subsequent twinge in his nose, that he’s not done. For a moment, he wonders if the sneezes will ever let up—if he’ll be stuck in the bathroom all evening, trying to keep his illness under wraps.

Before he can entertain the thought properly, he finds himself jerking forward again, his eyes snapping shut—

“Hehh… hEHh’IIZSCHH-YYEEW! hHihhH’-iiTsSHHH-YYEW!”

He blows his nose, as gently as he can, but the paper towel is rougher against his skin. When he looks up afterwards, blinking tears out of his vision, his nose looks noticeably red.

It takes all the resolve in him to not just slump against the wall.

His next breath comes in wrong, and he finds himself coughing—harsh, grating coughs which seem to go on and on, leaving him feeling distinctly lightheaded.

He can’t stay here. He needs to make it back to dinner, where the others are waiting for him. He has to get back before Vincent starts wondering where he’s gone.

Yves squeezes his eyes shut. If he’s being honest with himself, he feels awful. Nothing he does seems to do anything to assuage the chill that’s settled persistently over him, the uncomfortable, shivery feeling that makes him want to curl up somewhere warm, sleep the next day and a half away.

Would it be so bad for him to stay here for just a little longer? To send a text to Vincent to let him know he’ll be back in twenty? It’s not the most comfortable of places, but it would be the easiest to explain if someone ends up finding him here. Anywhere else might suggest that he has a big enough problem to deliberately hide away instead of properly enjoying the festivities, like he should be doing, which is not the impression he wants to give off at all.

He tries to think of a convincing enough excuse, but nothing he can think of takes precedence over a wedding dinner, of all things. It should be fine if he goes back now, but any longer might be pushing things.

And, anyways, he feels guilty for even considering it. The others are waiting for him. He has to show up, and at the very least, be courteous where he has to, make pleasant conversation when he can. He has to make sure Aimee and Genevieve are having fun, and that Leon and Victoire are doing fine, and that nothing needs to get done logistically, and that Vincent is not there alone, surrounded by strangers speaking a language he’s just started to learn.

His head is pounding. He tosses the paper towels into the bin, leans his weight against the countertop, squeezes his eyes shut. The exhaustion from the past few days of on-and-off sleep must be catching up with him. His head is pounding.

He can do this. More aptly put, it’s not a question of whether he can. He has to do this.

He splashes his face with cold water, washes his hands in the sink, dries his face with another generous handful of paper towels, and heads towards the door. He feels almost too tired to stand, but that’s only a temporary concern. It won’t be a problem once he gets back to his seat.

Everyone is waiting for him, he tells himself. Soon, they might be asking where he’s gone. He needs to show them that he’s there—present and attentive and engaged, just like he promised everyone he’d be. No one expects any less of him, after all.

It’s with that in mind that he presses forward. He makes it down a couple hallways before he finds himself having to lean against the wall to catch his balance, shutting his eyes against the sudden wave of disorientation. He inhales, slowly. Exhales.

Fuck. Perhaps he’s dizzier than he’d expected.

“Yves?” He freezes. Vincent is not supposed to be here. Vincent can’t see him right now, not in this state. He forces himself to smile. “What’s up?”

“You disappeared,” Vincent says. “I wanted to make sure…”

His voice shutters, sounding distant and close by all at once. “...that everything was okay.”

“It is,” Yves says. “I was just about to head back.” “We can head back together,” Vincent says. It’s not that long of a walk—just a couple minutes, at most, to the exit Vincent presumably came in from, and then back down the stone path that leads to the courtyard.

“You didn’t have to come find me. I’m really fine.” Yves shifts his weight off from the wall. Takes a couple steps halting towards the exit, which is a mistake.

It all registers simultaneously: the darkness encroaching upon the edges of his vision, the surge of panic in his chest. The world, suddenly angled wrongly, tilts towards him. He thinks he is definitely going to owe Vincent an apology.

[ Part 5 ]

#sneeze fic #snz fic #sneeze kink #snz kink #snzfic #spoilers for this chapter ahead:#(do not read these tags if you have not read the chapter yet)#(one more line so that this doesn't show up unless you click read more)#i... am sorry. i know the ending to this chapter is probably going to be controversial (glances at the poll i made awhile back)#but i really wanted to write it 😭#(you are free to yell at me for this decision)#i almost lost my nerve and let this sit in my drafts forever because the wedding was incredibly difficult to write but #i finished editing it today after drinking something very caffeinated #yvverse #my fic

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crazyk-imagine · 1 year

Note

Hey! I just read your Jamie Tartt fic where the reader is pregnant and I freaking loved it! It kind of got me thinking about Jamie bringing his little girl, cause he’s totally gonna be a girl dad, to the pitch for practice. She’s like 4 or 5, really young and wearing a Tartt jersey and has the entire team wrapped around her finger, especially Roy.. bonus if her favorite player is someone else on the team, any of them, and Roy and Jamie get jealous… if you could write it great! If not no worries! Thanks for the consideration! 🥰🥰

Abdicated Family Issues

Pairing: Jamie Tartt x Pregnant!Reader

Characters: Jamie Tartt, Pregnant!reader, Tartt Toddler, Baby Tartt, Roy Kent, Dani Rojas, Jan Maas (briefly mentioned)

Warnings: Fluff, Jamie being a dramatic bitch, Jealous Roy and Jamie, Toddler Tartt bouncing off the walls because of her fun day at dad's work, Roy didn't ask for this, he didn't plan on being involved, Jamie being a sad little baby thinking his baby girl doesn't like him (anymore), Jamie and Roy need comforting, reader becomes their therapist for a second, Dani being a sweetheart (ofc)

Word Count: 1,432

A/N: Ahhh, love, love, love it!! I thought who better to make Jamie just a little jelly than Dani aka the other ace on the team. Roy being involved and jelly is a plus.

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You smile when you get a text from your boyfriend.

Baby 💕

"Leaving now. Will be home soon" 2:19pm Sent Read

Darling 💓

"See you two soon 💕" 2:27pm Sent Read

As soon as you get comfortable your boyfriend lays beside you. “How am I supposed to feel?” Jamie whines to you, crawling onto your lap.

“Can you back-up to the beginning of your story? I have no idea what’s happened, and you pretended like I came onto the field with you," you tell him, rubbing your slowly growing belly.

He smiles and adjusts himself so he lays by your side, head resting on your shoulder so he can also rub your belly.

"Tell me why you look like my sad Jaim."

"She-"

"Dani is so cool!"

You glance away from your excited and jumpy daughter to your even more depressed boyfriend.

"Why don't you tell your mum what you told me?" Ron's voice echoes throughout the hallway as he closes the front door.

"Dani did this really cool move and- and-"

You try and shush, "babes. Babes." You sigh when you don't get her attention. "Honey, take a breath and breathe. I want to hear about your exciting day, but you can only do it if you talk a little slower."

She stares at you.

Roy grabs a seat on one of the chairs you keep out for company (because the team comes over more often than you'd like, right now being pregnant; they take a lot of you). "Why don't you tell her more about the fun you had today?"

"Jan's really tall and gave me piggyback rides while dad was practicing, even though he should have been too."

"You made it fun, Baby Tartt."

You furrow your brows, unsure of who said that.

Roy shrugs and mouths, "phone."

Jamie slumps further into your side.

You open your arms, wanting to pull your baby girl in for a hug and make a poor attempt at trying to get the phone before your chatty girl drops it.

Meaning you two would need to buy another phone (your goal is to make it last six more months).

The screen shifts to the ceiling before Dani's face pops up. "Hi. How are you? Do you need some of my family's special pregnancy soup?"

You smile and shake your head. "No, thank you, Danny. I appreciate the offer though."

"Of course, of course."

"So, how was today's practice? I hope it was alright."

"Oh, it was great. Baby Tartt shows promise to follow in her father's footsteps."

"Oh, does she?"

He nods, "yes, yes. I showed her a few moves and-"

"More like took her attention from me," Jamie grumbles.

Roy scoffs.

You shake your head, wanting to listen to what Dani's saying without commentary from the peanut gallery.

It only lasts two minutes longer until you can't take it anymore.

"Dani- dani- I'm sorry, I'm feeling a little nauseous and I don't want to keep you any longer. I know you have other things to do. I'm sure we'll talk more soon."

"Alright, I’ll leave you to rest. I know how much a woman in your condition needs her rest, especially with Jamie’s baby.”

Your boyfriend beside you grumbles, “what does that mean?”

“You are a good football player, meaning you have strong kicks.”

He doesn’t respond but you do know that Dani’s comment uplifted his mood just a little bit.

“I hope you have a good rest of your evening and get plenty of rest,” the excited player waves to you.

Your daughter leans in, waving. “Bye, Dani! I’ll come by so we can practice more.”

“That is good to hear. I can’t wait until your next visit.”

You end the call and look up. “Sweetie?”

Jamie and your daughter look at you; you pat your boyfriend’s shoulder.

“Not you, J.” You glance back at your adorable baby girl. “Can you go get me my special blanket? I’m feeling a little cold.”

She nods, “okay.”

“I can help-”

You shake your head, “nope. Neither of you are leaving this room until you confess.”

“Confess? Confess what?” Jamie asks.

“You know what. You two have never looked more upset and depressed at the same time. I want to know why so I can help you.”

Roy clenches his jaw.

“You don’t have to say much, Roy. But you, my dear Jaim, have to give me something so I can figure out whether or not a hug will suffice for right now.”

He groans and removes himself from you, throwing himself onto the other side of the couch. “She likes him more.”

Your head snaps over at the gruff man. “What?”

He sighs, “your future athlete, liked Dani more than she liked her dad on the field today.”

“And you,” Jamie points at him. “Don’t throw me under the bus and expect me to just sit here and let you-”

You grab Jamie’s hand, intertwining your fingers, “stop it. There’s no need to fight.”

The older man crosses his arms. “But it’s not fair.”

“What’s not fair? I need you to explain to me because I have no idea what it is or how to help you.”

“She wanted to practice more with Dani than she did me. I mean, how does that make sense? How is that fair? I’m her fuckin’ dad, you know.”

A small smile tugs at the corner of your lips. “Jaim, you shouldn’t feel that way.” You brush away the hair that falls in front of his eyes.

“How else am I supposed to feel? Made me feel like- I don’t know.”

“You do know but I won’t push you because I know it’s the fact that Roy’s here. But please don’t worry about that-”

“Well, how else am I supposed to feel?”

You sigh. “Jamie, she’s wearing your number and has your name on the back of her jersey. She may want to hang out with him a few times but you’re her dad. You’re her number one player.”

Roy clearing his throat makes you roll your eyes, “and you as well, you big baby.”

The gruff man smirks in return, not wanting you to know how that makes him feel (special).

You return your attention to your boyfriend. “You are the reason she loves the sport, without you, who knows what she’d be obsessed with other than her toys, you know. I mean, you helped her find her future.”

He finally looks at you for the first time since he got home. “I did?”

You nod, smiling at him. “Of course, you fucking did because you are Jamie Tartt. Best girl dad ever, Jamie Tartt.”

He cups your cheek before leaning in to kiss you.

You pull back with a gasp as a wide smile dances across your lips.

“What is it?”

“Someone’s also trying to show you that they’re your number one fan with their strong kicks.” You grab his hand and hold it over the spot.

The exciting moment between you two is broken when a certain ex-player’s hand hovers over your belly.

“Come here, you quiet old man.”

“Oi.”

You raise a brow at him.

“I’m not that old.”

“I found it.”

You all turn to find your daughter trapped underneath the blanket.

“Roy, go help her before she trips, please.”

Your boyfriend takes this opportunity to whisper sweet promises to the baby.

Once your daughter is free and can see properly, she watches the two of you. “What are you two doing?”

“Your sibling is kicking,” he tells her.

Her eyes widen and she rushes towards you, wanting to feel the kicks as well.

Jamie grabs her hand so the two of them can feel the baby kicking together.

You glance over at Roy, who’s set the blanket off the side; he waves at you before leaving.

“Are you two having fun?”

They nod, not wanting to break their concentration.

You groan, throwing your head back.

“What? What is it?” Jamie asks, worried something’s wrong.

“You two keep pushing the baby onto my bladder and guess what?”

“I’ll help you up.” He gets you up with no problems. He leans closer to your ear, whispering, “all you need to do is ask, darling.”

You narrow your eyes to him. “Really? You really want to get cheeky with me, Tartt.”

He only smiles and walks with you to the bathroom.

“Go spend time with your daughter before she’s old enough to go out on dates.”

“Don’t do that to me.” And he’s back in the living room.

You chuckle, finding it too easy to rile him up.

#ted lasso #ted lasso imagine #ted lasso imagines #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fanfiction #jamie tartt #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt imagines #crazyk-imagine

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peterpparkrr · 1 year

Text

Banter (Ch. 3)

Series: Banter

Pairing: Roy Kent x f!Reader

Summary: You break the ice with Roy and befriend Rebecca. Keeley lays down the facts with Roy.

A/N: I started a new job today!! Getting this up and out before the insanity of all of that begins.

(Ch. 1) (Ch. 2) // (Ch. 4) (Ch. 5)

series masterlist

Shutterbug: Hey

Shutterbug: Can we talk?

You messaged Roy two days ago and still hadn’t gotten a response.

Maybe he’d deleted the app. You’d certainly been tempted to after your failed date.

But Keeley was right. You needed to talk to him. To properly communicate now that you weren’t dealing with heightened emotions.

That’s what a real adult did. And God above did you want to behave like an adult.

But you were also dreading it. Keeley had made you second guess your assumptions about that night. You’d barely had time to dissect your own feelings about discovering it had been Roy that you’d been talking to for weeks. How that affected your feelings about him. It made sense that perhaps you’d been a bit too hasty in deciphering his own feelings about it based on his unreliable facial expressions.

But maybe Keeley was just giving you false hope. After two days with no answer, it was hard to read into that anything other than disinterest. Or maybe even some outright disdain.

“Roy!” You shouted.

You were back at AFC Richmond today to meet with Keeley and Rebecca. You had proofs to show them from the shoots and even though you had initially wished this meeting could have been virtual – or better yet – an email.

But now that you could see Roy Kent’s all-black form heading down the hallway ahead of you this presented a unique opportunity for you to put on your big girl pants and attempt a conversation.

Though, even with your ear-piercing shout that had caused every other person walking through the halls to turn and stare at you, Roy seemed to be intentionally ignoring you.

“Roy!” You tried again. Now walking at a near pace just below a jog to catch up to him.

You heard a grunt in response this time.

When you reach him he finally turns around and you try to remind yourself that the glare on his face is a permanent resident so as to not deter you from saying what you need to say.

“I just wanted to clear the air,” You tell him as he stares back at you.

“After last week and the whole… y’know,” You add to fill the silence.

“Mhmm,” Roy grunts.

“I just wanted to apologize if I came across rudely that night,” You continue. “I think we were both just surprised and obviously you wouldn’t have even shown up if you knew it was me so I’m sorry.”

You catch Roy’s bushy eyebrows furrow slightly and he parts his lips as if he wants to interject but he doesn’t say anything.

“We’re going to have to see each other around,” You continue. “Keeley keeps adding shoot days to this project.”

“Can we just… I don’t know, be friends?” You ask. “Colleagues?”

“Colleagues it is,” Roy replies with a nod.

“Great!” You reply with a relieved smile.

“See you around, Roy,” You tell him as you head up the stairs to Rebecca Welton’s office.

“You’ll be very proud of me, Keels, I just spoke to Roy in the hallway and neither of us yelled or insulted the other,” You announce as you walk through the open door leading into Rebecca’s office to see Keeley sitting in one of the chairs in front of her desk, her legs hooked over the armrest.

Keeley simply grins at you and you hear a small chuckle from the side of the room and see Rebecca Welton in all her glory fixing herself a cup of tea while she glances over her shoulder at you in clear amusement.

“Oh! Hi, Rebecca!” You exclaim as you try to figure out how to backtrack out of the personal information you just shared about yourself with the women signing your paychecks for this gig.

“Hello,” She greets you with a smile as she gestures for you to take a seat next to Keeley while she makes her way to sit behind her desk.

“Is that an impressive feat for you and Roy? Not arguing?” Rebecca asks.

“Um, yes,” You tell her. “This is the first time we’ve managed that.”

“Ah,” Rebecca replies with a nod.

“They matched on Bantr and their first date didn’t exactly go to plan,” Keeley adds.

“Keeley!” You hiss as you reach out to swat your friend and her oversharing.

“Oh, don’t worry about it, it happens to the best of us,” Rebecca reassures you. “I’m happy to share any number of my dating horror stories if it will make you feel better. But seeing as the most glaring one is plastered all over the tabloids every week I’m guessing you have some idea.”

“Rupert Manion’s a dick,” You reply without even thinking about it, causing Rebecca to choke on the sip of tea she’d just taken.

“That’s what I always tell her!” Keeley emphatically agreed.

“I can see why you two are friends now,” Rebecca replies with a small shake of her head.

“Should we look at the proofs before we end up tracking down a feminist rally and burning all our bras?” You offer as you pull your iPad out of your bag.

“Yes, plenty of time for all that after the meeting,” Rebecca replies, shooting you a look.

You grin back. Now you understand why Keeley likes Rebecca so much, you’re already bordering on obsessed with this woman.

You spend the next hour showing them your work and discussing how it can be used for the team’s marketing and communications before you work on coming up with a plan for what else they still need.

By the end of the meeting, you’ve made great headway on your plan and you’re also already ready for a drink.

“There’s a great little cocktail bar a few blocks down, should we toast to your amazing work and our success?” Rebecca asks as your trio walks down the hallway out to the car park.

“I’m always down for a drink or three,” You reply with a grin.

“Keels?” You ask as you turn to see if Keeley is down to come out too. You can’t imagine Keeley ever turning down the option to go out, but you never know. But when you glance at her she’s glancing back down the hallway at something.

“Yes! Totally!” Keeley replies after a moment. I just need to grab something from my office real quick, but I’ll meet you two there, kay?”

“Okay,” Rebecca replies. “Shall we?”

“Yeah, we’ll order your first glass,” You tell Keeley before heading out the door behind Rebecca.

Keeley turns on her heels once the door closes behind you and Rebecca and makes a beeline down the hallway to where Roy is in his office playing with lineups on a whiteboard.

“Roy,” Keeley calls softly as she pokes her head through the door.

“Keeley,” Roy greets her as he glances up at her briefly.

“I heard about what happened,” She tells him.

“Fucking hell,” Roy replies with a sigh. Trying not to let his irritation at anyone knowing about his vulnerability show. Even if that person is only Keeley. One of the nicest people he knows. But the sympathy or pity or whatever you want to call it in her voice is grating.

“And when you just walked past us you looked like a grumpy little kitty so I wanted to check on you,” Keeley says.

“I didn’t-” Roy hisses before he catches himself and takes a deep breath. “I don’t need your fucking pity, Keeley.”

“I know, but I’m also (Y/N)’s best friend, and I know how hard it is for her to be vulnerable. Frankly, I’m surprised that the two of you ending up on a date didn’t go worse. You two are some of the worst communicators I’ve ever met.”

“Thanks?”

“What I’m trying to say,” Keeley says as she tries to get herself back on track. “Is that you both suck at being vulnerable. And a blind date with someone you already have some tension with was bound to blow up in your faces. And that’s no one’s fault! But she really liked you, Roy, the version of you that she met on the app. And she likes Roy Kent too, as much as she would hate to admit it.”

“If you both want to, I think you two should try again,” She tells Roy.

“She told me earlier that she just wanted to be friends,” Roy replies as he shakes his head at Keeley. “She doesn’t like me. I’d have to be a fucking idiot not to understand that.”

“Because she thinks that’s what you want,” Keeley argues. “She thinks that you’re the one that doesn’t like her and you obviously think the opposite.”

“The two of you need to be honest about your feelings and figure this out,” She tells her.

“I’m going to bring her to Sam’s restaurant opening,” Keeley adds. “Talk to her.”

Roy watches Keeley turn to leave and stares at the now-closed door to the office as he tries to process everything she just told him.

Could you really like him back but have rejected him in some strange self-defense mechanism? Roy would hate the idea of someone doing that to him if I didn’t know in the back of his mind that he had done the same thing.

How is he supposed to set the lineup for the Manchester United game with all of this shit in his head?

“FUCK!” He hisses as he turns back to the board in front of him.

“Oh!” a small voice squeaks and Roy whips around to see Will standing at the door with a box of cleats. “I just- I’ll just um, I’m going to-”

“Spit it out!” Roy huffs. “I’ll just leave these here,” Will whispers as he sets the box down and essentially runs out of the room.

Now what was Roy supposed to do?

#ted lasso #ted lasso fanfic #roy kent #roy kent fanfic #roy kent x reader #roy kent drabble #roy kent reader insert #ted lasso reader insert #ted lasso series #roy kent series #keeley jones

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the-skull-breaker · 4 months

Text

MCL New Gen ep 4 spoliers !

alright alright ! the new episode is out for VIPs, and just like the previous one I got to play Roy's route early, I'll play Thomas' once the ep releases for everyone !

without further ado, click on "keep reading" to see my full opinion !

so first we got to go to the Cosy Bear for potentially meet Castiel serving, but sadly we've arrived late and didn't get to actually meet him, we did get to see Lynn however, tho I understand how Castiel's fans must be disappointed, like I would have loved o see how mister rockstar deals with serving customers, it could be really funny !

then Lynn and Thomas have a small discussion and Thomas just casually told her he was in love with her in he past (I will not go into details about him because, again, I'll make another post about his route later) which led to the topic of romantic relationships. now there was a quick scene with Brune before going to the cafe about her relationship with Roy and the bet the night before, and honestly I was kinda worried about it with the way she approached us but it turns out she's not mad about the kiss, so that was a relief.

to go back at the cafe discussion we got to know each characters' relationship statues and, surely, we got to Roy and Brune's, and while I did expect them to not have an actual serious relationship, I was surprised by how honest they were about their true feelings, and I was ESPECIALLY surprised by the fact that THEY DID NOT EVEN KISS. so anyway they ended up breaking up in a calm and mature way, which I did no expect but honestly ? as uncomfortable as the whole thing was I'm glad it turned that way instead of being messy, however it seemed like both Thomas and Devon were pretty disappointed with the lack of drama which is hilarious.

now we get to Candy's relationship with her ex and we've got the choice to got into details or not, I've chosen the first option which raised my LOM with Roy and as much as I should have expected this I did NOT expect how nice our coworkers were, especially Roy and Devon ! first Roy saying that he hopes karma will get to our ex is the sweetest thing, I'm even more in love with him ! then Devon who says they will not make business with our ex-workplace which is so awesome from him, couldn't ask for a better boss than him !

then we see Jason and the topic of why he's our enemy is brought up and honestly ? I hate him even more... basically his company is just to spite the fact he was disqualified to the contest because... he cheated... and took the opportunity of working with the city hall so he could copy Devon's project... good job, dickhead, you've played yourself ! now I want even more to mess with his plans and drive him to ruin ! *insert maniacal laugh*. now about his past relationships is none of my business, he can have many conquests I don't care, I'm definitely not into him anyway. (anyway sorry for those who do like him, nothing against you, I just don' like him at all)

and FINALLY we get to the illus scene which in the case of Roy happens in the bus and wow, I do wish I was in the place of Candy there ! the way he holds us close to him so we wouldn't fall while potentially not thinking much about it just because he might think it's just normal I just... aaaaaahhhh I love him ! then we discuss more about our expectations in a relationship and it's clear he would be such a good partner, I wish I had one like him...

and here you go, many people may think nothing much happened but remember that we're still in an introduction state, this episode was clearly about learning the LIs' view on relationship, and from what I see on the preview it seems like the next episode might make things more serious in terms of story, so hold on, be patient, it could still be great !

anyway, that's all for me, have a nice day !

#mcl #mcl new gen #mcl new gen ep4 #my candy love #my candy love new gen #mcl spoilers #mcl new gen spoiler #mcl roy #roy aquino

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hughiecampbelle · 1 year

Text

Dependence Pt. 5 (Roy!Sibling x Roy Family)

Alternatively Titled: We Ain't Angry At You Love, You're The Greatest Thing We Lost I am getting this lyric tattooed on my body I'm dead serious

Characters: Kendall, Roman, Shiv, Connor, Logan

Word Count: 1,879

Inspired By: You're Gonna Go Far by Noah Kahan

Tag List: @locke-writes

A/N: All I have is the snippet to listen to and it makes me sob every time. I'm thinking of moving 1k miles away from my family, from my home, from everything, and every bone in my body wishes they felt the way this song feels. Every nerve in my body wants them to feel this way. I hope they'll miss me that much. Anyways, it reminded me of Baby Roy and the Succession finale. Yes I did cry while writing, what about it lol!! Feedback is always appreciated!!! 💜💜💜

Dependence Pt. 1 / Dependence Pt. 2 / Dependence Pt. 3 / Dependence Pt. 4

Being The Youngest Roy Would Include: Pt. 1

Being The Youngest Roy Would Include: Pt. 2

You’re gonna go far, he says into you, his arms tight around you. You try to stop yourself from crying. Again. Sniffling into him, into his shoulder. Everything about this moment makes you want to turn around. To call the whole thing off. But then, how can you call off an entire lifetime? Your bags linger at your feet, everything you could fit into two suitcases. You didn’t start out like this, the day didn’t start out like this, but as it progressed, as things fell into place, you realized there was no place for you. In their lives, of course. Connor promised you your old room again, if you ever wanted to visit. But this place, this apartment, this city, it wasn’t yours anymore. It wasn’t home. You’re not sure it ever was to begin with. You remember to call me when you land, okay? An,whenever you need someone to talk to, I’m always here. He has this shake in his voice, the kind that tells you he’s doing his very best to keep himself together. Composed. You can’t say anything, the words getting caught in your throat. Instead you just nod, sobbing into his sweater. He holds you tighter, rubbing your back. When he stops, he cups your face, meeting your teary eyes, wiping your cheeks. Pops would be so proud of you. He wouldn’t. He never was. But at some point you have to stop chasing something that never existed, something you can never have. You smile for Connor’s sake. Maybe he really believes it. Maybe he’s just saying it. Either way, you’re glad you went to him. You’re glad you told him. You’re gonna so far, you have no idea. He sighs, as if the words have been sitting on his chest for a long time. As if this is the first time in your life he’s felt real, genuine relief. You want to be held a little longer. You want to be loved the only way a father, a father by choice rather than blood, could ever love their child. Without conditions, without restraints, without a ceiling or a floor. Infinite. Beautiful. You’ll have to let go eventually, part ways, but for now he holds you like he did when you were an infant. Never could he have imagined the life you’d live. It was a fantastic surprise. You were a fantastic surprise.

You continue to awe him every single day.

You catch him at the bar, nursing a martini. Your hands begin to shake, but you settle them at your side, sitting beside him. You can do this. He wasn’t expecting you, sliding his drink away from you. You’re okay, you’ll be okay. You can be around it, you have to in order to say goodbye. He notices the luggage before you have the chance to say anything. Going somewhere? You bite your inner cheek. Yes, actually. He turns to you. His stitches have opened, the wound bright and red. Angry. You try to read his expression. There’s a hint of fear. He saw you in that bed, screaming, crying, begging not to be alive anymore. You knew he meant it out of love, but you couldn’t face it anymore. You couldn’t be looked at like that anymore. If you wanted a fresh start, a real one, you had to get away. You had to find somewhere with people who saw you for you, not your mistakes, not your darkest moments. Somewhere inside him, he understood that. Somewhere inside him, he wanted the same thing. Leaving for him wasn’t an option, though. Is that so? What does Mummy think about that? He sips his drink. You don’t want to roll your eyes at him. You don’t want to be annoyed with him. You’re not sure how long it’ll be before you’ll see him again. I, I didn’t tell her. I’m not telling her. He lets your answer settle for a moment. You’re not sure what he’s thinking. You never have been sure. Roman could be so unreadable, so unpredictable. You keep talking, trying to fill the silence, a lump developing in your throat. You’re speaking so fast, almost hysterical. You have to explain yourself. You have to explain yourself or you’ll die. I have to get away. I’m not sure for how long, I just, I can’t be here anymore. I have to stay sober and I can’t do that here. It’s not because of you, because of any of you, I want you to know that. I’m, I’m sorry if that upsets you or makes you ang- But he interrupts you, leaning over, hugging you. Not as tight as Connor. It’s as if he’s afraid to touch you still, afraid to hurt you. Gentle. You feel his muscles tense then relax. Whatever you gotta do, you do. Just don’t scare me like that again. You promise him it will never happen again.

It won’t. It doesn’t. The hurt from home doesn’t follow you, wherever you go.

You can’t reach the other two. You try calling, the deja vu twisting your stomach. The last time you tried to reach them, the last time. . . No. Stop it. This isn’t that. You’re better now. Shiv picks up, waiting for you to talk. You don’t care what happened. You don’t care what went down in that boardroom. You don’t care that he’s CEO now, that you lost. She’s your sister. The same sister that comforted you after nightmares, who iced your bruises, who wanted the best for you from day one. Whatever happened couldn’t change that. She gave you so many chances, time after time, and you let her down. You let everyone down. She still cares, she always would. You would, too. The words come up, out, before you can stop them. How much you love her, how much you’re going to miss her, how badly you need this, how much you wish you could be with her right now. You hear her take a sharp inhale in, a shudder in her voice. I’ll come and visit, yeah? Wherever you end up, I’ll be there, okay? You nod. Yeah, yeah of course. You can feel your eyes well up again. She was your big sister, the only maternal figure you’d ever known. It wasn’t your mother who shushed you to sleep at night, holding you close. It wasn’t your mother who gasped at the bruises you gave yourself in a fit of rage. It wasn’t your mother who climbed into that hospital bed with you when you were sick and scared and didn’t want to fall asleep alone. It was Shiv. You're Shivy. Your sister. Do you have everything packed? Always fretting, always worrying. Yes, Mom. You laugh. You know she’ll be a good mother. Maybe she doesn’t think so, maybe Tom doesn’t, but you do. She took care of you your whole life. She’s still trying to. You um, you have your chargers? Extra socks? Do you need me to- I’ll be okay, you interrupt. You’re both quiet for a moment, taking one another in. You can feel her wanting. Wanting to reach through the phone and kiss your cheek, to hold you so close your hearts beat at the same time. Wanting to keep you there forever, not wanting to let go.

She always knew this day would come, though. You’d always had big plans. You could never be confined like the rest of them.

You couldn’t reach Kendall. It went straight to voicemail. So you sat in the lobby of Waystar, trying to figure out exactly how to put it. Every thought in your mind, every thank you and I’m sorry and forgive me and I forgive you. Everything that’s ever sat between you two into a compact, meaningful message. You didn’t want to worry him, that was the last time you wanted, for any of them. You sat and watched everyone pass by. They were celebrating the new owner, one of the biggest deals they’d ever made. Some on their way to get drunk, others drunk already. Too much champagne. Finally, after a long time, you called again, listening to his voice play the message. Kendall, it’s me, you start. What next? You’re sorry. You’re sorry for putting them through all that you’ve put them through. The alcohol, the drugs, all those scary nights where they didn’t know where you were, if you were okay. All those nights where you weren’t sure where you were, if you’d make it out. You were sorry for calling him that night, for putting the blame on him if anything happened. You were sorry for blaming him. For not being the baby sibling he deserved. He deserved better, he expected better. I’m uh, I’ll be out of town for a while. You forgave him. You forgave him for all those outbursts, all those times he hurt you and Shiv and Con and especially Rome. You forgave him for turning into your father, the man you despised, the man you feared, the man you loved. I’ll be okay. I won’t, I’m not, I’m clean. I’ll stay that way. You loved him. You loved him despite the fear, despite the outbursts, despite the narrow path he chose to take. You loved him, and love him, because he’s your brother. He begged for you to stay awake, stay conscious. He wanted you to live even when you didn’t. That night, he looked like a ghost. I’m gonna miss you. A lot. Thank you for taking care of me, for loving me, for being there, you want to say. Thank you for being the best brother you could given the circumstances. Thank you for protecting me from him, from everyone. Call me when you can. I love you. Bye.

This isn’t some magic answer to your sobriety. This isn’t a cure. Hell, it might be you running away again. Who knows? But you can feel it, finally. The anger, the rage, the wrath. That burden starts to feel less heavy day by day. It won’t disappear completely. You’re a Roy, it’s in your blood, in your genes. But it gets easier to carry, to hold, to take with you everywhere. You don’t want to cave in, not as much. Sure, a strong drink would help, but you made promises. You made promises you’d like to keep. Promises to yourself and to your family. You’d call Connor when you landed, wherever that is. You’ll tell Shivy, too, so she can come and visit. You’ll check in with Rome and give Kendall another call. Hopefully this time he picks up. Hopefully this time you can have a real conversation, you can talk to him, really thank him for all that he’s done. But you know your place is not here. Your people are, they always will. That mausoleum will be waiting for you like it waits for them. Eternity you’ll get to spend by their sides. Now though, now you have the choice. The choice to get better. The choice to get away. The choice to be free. You’ll see them again, you always will. They’re your brothers, your sister, the people who raised you. You’ll see them again despite the distance.

They can’t get rid of you that easily.

#writing #connor roy #connor roy imagine #connor roy x reader #kendall roy #kendall roy imagine #kendall roy x reader #shiv roy #shiv roy imagine #shiv roy x reader #roman roy #roman roy imagine #roman roy x reader #succession #succession imagine #succession x reader

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musing-and-music · 6 months

Note

One word prompt : Door, for royai ? ☺️

Just after I asked the person I reblogged the post from that word, you ask me the same 😆

I must say that's a word with lots of potential! And I chose to give it an angsty meaning 😉 with a hopeful ending!

Door (or four times a door separated Roy and Riza, and one time it closed on them both)

1. When the door closes behind Roy and his cases, it feels like the end of an era, the end of a more peaceful and happy time. He's leaving her alone with a father she doesn't know, in a house that suddenly sounds sad and empty. After a few days, she realizes she's not used to it anymore, and sometimes she wishes Roy has never come here, sometimes she wishes that letter from the military has never reached the letterbox.

2. "I have nothing to tell you," Ri- Cadet Hawkeye spits, and she lets the canva door of her tent fall between them, cutting any attempt to apologize or just talk from Roy. Oh, he knows he can't convince her about his good will; he's not convinced of it anymore. War has destroyed everything he believed in, and it's destroyed the trust Riza has put in him when she allowed him to decipher the tattoo on her back. He can only return to his own tent, feeling his heart ache in a way he knows he shouldn't feel.

3. Riza closes the door of the hotel room with a heavy heart. The Colonel's grief feels too much for her, and any attempt to soothe him will fall flat. She's thought about loosing Rebecca in the same way, and the sudden burst of sadness that overcame her then has already been too much for her (she never thinks about how it would feel to lose Roy -that would be unbearable). For now, she can only make his work easier and ask the team to do the same. She simply hopes -foolish girl- that he won't lose himself in this grief.

4. Despite Riza's smile as the door closed on her, the reality of their situation weights heavily on Roy. He's now alone, his subordinates scattered across Amestris, and his most loyal -and precious- Lieutenant taken as a hostage under Bradley's watchful eye. This separation feels definitive, but Roy isn't known for giving up so easily. He will work his way to the top, and he will get his subordinates back. He will keep them all safe. As safe as they could be, he corrects himself with a bitter thought when the image of Havoc in his hospital bed comes to his mind.

+ 1. Riza locks the door before facing Roy's apartment. She smiles as she notices it's clean and tidy, sign that the guys have done a good job taking care of it. Then, her gaze falls on Roy, on his smile as he looks at her. He extends a hand, the scar still red on it, and she takes it, entwining her fingers with his. Peace washes over her as he kisses the back of her hand, his free arm closing around her in an embrace that she's craved for for years before the weeks they spent in the hospital. Now, she's free to put her head on his shoulder and enjoy his warmth and presence. Here, they're safe. "Home," she whispers. A laugh rumbles under her ear and Roy replies: "Home".

One-word prompts

#ask game #prompt #scienceoftheidiot #thank you for the surge of inspiration!!#royai #riza hawkeye #roy mustang #musing writes

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emma-m-black · 10 days

Text

Sister Kent - Chapter Three

Ted Lasso/OC (Roy Kent's Little Sister) (FanFiction) - PG

Takes place in season one, the night the Roy goes to Ted's flat and talks to him (and gets offered peanut butter). Ted and Roy's little sister hit it off.

This is a rough draft as always and I wrote this to be 4 chapters. Hope you enjoy.

Author Master List

Read Chapter One, Chapter Two,

Chapter Three:

“Thank you, Phillip. I can finish clearing up if you wanted to head home.” Juliet was standing in the examination room, a group of patient folders in her hands. Her hair was tied back and out of her face, having spent a good portion of the day working on some players and going over files.

“I won’t argue with that. Have a good night Juliet.”

Most of the clubhouse was dark. Only those finishing up their day remained, and Juliet could hear the familiar and faint voice of one Ted Lasso. She was sure that she had seen Coach Beard leave already, backpack on and phone to his ear.

Putting the files to her desk, Juliet decided she would finish her tasks in the morning before the players got in and instead grabbed her jacket and bag and, while placing her arms through the straps, she made her way towards the Manager’s Office.

As she covered the distance, she noticed the voice quiet, until there was just the sound of the washers and the steps of those remaining. Juliet entered the first room and could see Ted through the window. His elbows were on the desk, his head was in his hands and his shoulders were drooped. The stance of someone with something on their mind, the stance of someone that you normally want no one else to see. So, taking a few steps back out of the room, Juliet stood, knocked on the wall as she re-entered the room with a smile on her face. “Shouldn’t you guy be home by now? Big game tomorrow.”

“Juliet?” Ted’s head shot up from the table and he gave a few quick blinks. “What are you still doing here?” The normal Ted smile quickly came across his face.

“Pretty sure Phillip wants to be out of here the minute the game is over tomorrow, so I spent my day doing paperwork, and now I’m starving. How about you Coach? My treat.”

“Sound like the perfect end to the day.” Ted stood up and slipped on his jacket before loading up his backpack. It was at this moment that the screen on his phone which laid on the desk lit up. A picture of a young boy filled the screen and a text that said:

Henry: Good Luck Tomorrow! I believe in you!!!

Juliet would not pry as to who Henry was, as she had a pretty good idea already. However, she had been caught by Ted while staring at the device. “My son, Henry.”

“He’s cute.”

“Yeah, he’s the best parts of me,” Said Ted as he picked up the phone, stared at the picture for a second and then pocketed the device.

Ted let Juliet lead the way out of the room and out of the building, and once they were out in the cool night air, Ted stopped and looked around the empty staff parking lot. “Wait, you don’t have a car?”

“I do, but I prefer commuting and walking to work. The exercise is excellent, especially when I have to work late, because that usually means I’ve been sitting all day. Also, I like people watching.”

A sigh left Ted’s lips, and he pulled on the straps of his bag. “I have to ask...”

“Was I adopted?” Juliet quickly cut off with a laugh as she walked towards the gate.

“I was gonna go with switched at birth.”

Both laughed and then Juliet looked at Ted as they walked. “I like to say Roy couldn’t handle the amount of happiness he was given, so I had to take it all. Honestly, though, he’s a teddy bear. I just think, he spent most of his time taking care of me, and then when he had to leave for football, he blamed himself for leaving me behind with our parents. They were always so busy trying to keep things going, pay for us to do the things we wanted, but that meant I was left alone a lot.”

“Is that why you came here?”

“Yeah, he beat himself up for leaving me for his football career. I mean, I know he would make no other decision, and it wasn’t his place to take care of me. I thought maybe if I could come back, maybe it would help. But I see you’ve already done that for me. You are different, Coach Lasso.”

“Not the first time I’ve heard that, and probably won’t be the last.”

“Well, whatever it is you are doing, Coach, don’t stop.”

The rest of the trip was filled with small talk, almost as if they were approaching topics too deep and thus needed to sidestep. When they arrived at The Crown and Anchor, they each ordered a large basket of crisps to share and a burger each, along with a pint.

When May sat the basket of chips down and two pints with an enormous smile on her face as she looked at Juliet and eyed the Richmond logo on her jacket. “Well, aren’t you a pleasant upgrade from this git’s normal company?”

Ted let out a laugh. “May, meet the charming Juliet Kent. She’s just started working at the clubhouse. Juliet, this is May, our esteemed host.”

“Pleasure to meet you dear.” Greeted May before she leaned slightly to her right, putting herself closer to Ted. “Quite the catch there, Ted.” And then she was off before either party could say anything in response.

Ted cleared his throat and let his eyes fall to the basket. “I’ve almost been here a year and I still can’t get used to calling these chips.” He lifted a thin yellow potato between them, examining it before popping it into his mouth.

“I can’t believe you call them fries.” Said Juliet with a raised brow, before she too picked one up and popped it in her mouth. “Like, it rhymes with cries. Do you only eat them when you are sad or something? Oh no, are you sad?” The smile on her face told Ted that she was only teasing, and Ted’s eyes lit up in response but then slowly they dimmed.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean...” Juliet trailed off, knowing that she had hit on something, but not being sure exactly what was on his mind.

“I was going to fly back home after the season. Henry and I made all these plans, but now, now I’m going to have to stay in a hotel, or worse yet, stay with my mother.” Ted placed his arms on the table and linked his fingers together around his glass. “I only came here to give Michelle space, thinking that was the solution and I know it’s better for the both of us to be apart, but what is that going to be like to Henry? Seeing me there, but not at home?”

Juliet reached across the table and wrapped a hand around Ted’s wrist. “I’m sure he will just be happy to see you, and to spend whatever time he has with you. I assume that means you plan on sticking around here?”

“Rebecca wants to extend our contract, wants Beard and I to stay on another season at least, win or lose, but I don’t know. I came out here for reasons that don’t really exist anymore.” Ted’s eyes fell down to where Juliet’s hand rested against his skin.

“You do whatever feels right to you Ted, but go see your kid. As someone who never got to spend much time with her parent’s, it’s what I always wanted. Kids are a blessing Ted, don’t forget that.”

Juliet’s eyes turned glassy as she said this and with a quick shake, she pulled her hand from Ted’s skin. “Sorry, can you excuse me for a moment? All that water I drank is haunting me.”

Without waiting for a response, Juliet stood up and moved towards the restroom. Ted watched as she walked away from the table and wondered what caused the sudden sadness behind her eyes.

“So, can I expect to see her around her more?” Asked May with a smile, pulling Ted from his thoughts.

“Probably, she seems to get along pretty well with Beard and I.” The implication that May was making was lost on Ted, and instead his answer was just honest to the moment.

“Ted, she’s fit. If you don’t I will,” Said May with a laugh, placing the burgers down on the table. “You deserve to be happy too. Don’t forget that.”

“May, I’m pretty sure she is half my age.”

“It’s just a number Ted.” May patted him on the shoulder in a motherly way and then walked away just as Juliet was coming back to the table.

Watching as she walked towards him, he could see the shine of unshed tears in her eyes, and his heart gave a lurch in his chest.

“Oh, thank goodness.” Juliet said with a smile as she sat back down in her seat and looked at her burger. “Now I don’t have to fight you for the chips.”

While they ate, Juliet asked questions about the team and the club. About Rebecca, and Keeley, who had come bounding into her office earlier that morning to introduce herself. They had finished their food, including the entire basket of chips and two more beers each, when May finally kicked them out of the pub.

“Well Ted, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Said Juliet as she backed up a few steps from Ted and in the opposite direction that he as going.

“Are you close?”

“I live in Gloucester.”

“I don’t know where that is,” Said Ted with a laugh.

“It’s a good distance from here.”

Ted’s chest tightened as he watched her walk away. “I wouldn’t be much of a gentleman if I let you walk home on your own. Can I offer you my couch? I would feel mighty bad if something happened to you. Besides, if you want to sober up, we could chug some water, and I will make you a nice, strong cup of coffee in the morning. No funny business, I swear.” Ted held his hands up in surrender as to emphasize his point.

“No funny business?” Asked Juliet as she stepped forward toward Ted.

“I mean, I won’t try to sleep with you.” Said Ted simply as Juliet came to stand next to him.

Bumping her shoulder into his. “What a shame.” Then she let out a laugh. “Come on Lasso, I’m tired.”

Once they had traveled the short distance to Ted’s flat, he let them in. Once they were both inside, Ted took their jackets and hung them on a coat rack in the hall while Juliet moved into the kitchen. Having seen where the cups were held, she grabbed two and filled them both with some water from the tap.

When Ted entered the room, he graciously took one cup from Juliet, and the two stood in an awkward silence as they drank. She stood leaning back against the counter with both hands wrapped around the cup and Ted stood about five steps away, one hand in his pocket and the other around his own glass of water.

“This is awkward, isn’t it?” Ted finally asked, breaking the silence. “I made it awkward with that sleep with you joke.”

“Yeah, but like in a good way.” Juliet replied as she looked over the top of her cup at Ted with a raised eyebrow. Then a laugh left her lips, and soon after Ted followed suit, and once they had both finally quieted down, and their chests were warm with alcohol and laughter, Juliet turned to look into the sitting area. “Ted, I can’t let you sleep on that.”

“It’s fine.”

“Ted, you are like six feet.”

“Six-One actually.”

Juliet finished the rest of the water from her glass and set it on the counter. “How about you lend me a shirt and I will sleep on the couch? Then you can make it up to me when you feel super guilty in the morning that you slept in your own bed, by putting food and coffee in front of me.”

“This better not hurt my street cred.” Said Ted with a laugh.

“If you want, I can shove a pair of panties in your pants pocket to find once you're at work?”

Ted let out a hearty laugh and set his glass down next to Juliet’s. “Just carry an assortment of undergarments with you, do you?”

“I’m prepared for anything, Ted. I work weird hours, travel with the teams full of men. So I always carry emergency clothes.”

“You carry emergency clothes, but no pajamas?”

Juliet looked at Ted with a smile. “Maybe I just wanna steal one of your shirts.”

“You’re gonna be trouble, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, that’s usually what happens when I latch myself onto a new friend.”

Ted examined Juliet, from her dark wavy hair, dark brows and freckle-less face, to the tips of her toes and back up again. “Nope, still don’t understand how you two are related.”

“Just stop trying to figure it all out and accept it for how it is Ted. Now, show me to the loo so I can brush up and change.”

Juliet slept surprisingly good on the couch, and as she slowly awoke she realized it was the sound of hushed voices from the kitchen that had dragged her from her slumber.

“Do you think you are gonna win today, dad?”

“It would be nice, but you know what I say.”

“It isn’t about the wins and losses.”

“Exactly.”

“Mom and I will be watching. I can’t wait to see you.”

“I can’t wait to see you too kiddo, but I better go okay. I need to wake up Beard and I did promise to make him breakfast and coffee.”

“Okay dad, love you!” Henry was no longer whispering and instead shouted through the phone.

“Love you too Henry.”

Juliet slowly propped herself up on her elbows. Staring into the kitchen, she found Ted sitting in the chair opposite her with a sad smile on his face. “He sounds like a lovely kid.”

“He is.” Ted said as he sat his phone down and looked across the room at Juliet. “Well, gosh darnit! You’re one of those people.”

“One of what people?” Asked Juliet as she tossed the blanket off of herself and stood up from the couch with a stretch.

“Those people who wake up from bed in the morning looking like...” But he voice trailed off Juliet reached towards the ceiling, stretching her arms and fingers to their full extent and causing the shirt she was wearing to follow, exposing more of her bare legs to the surrounding air. “Like you just had a beauty team attack you, and not like you’ve just woken up.”

Juliet turned and looked at Ted, a smile on her face as she brought her arms back down to her side.

“Damn, Capulet gotta’ go makin’ that shirt looks better, too.” This was spoken a lot softer.

The heat flared up in Juliet’s face and she was sure that she was the same colour as the slightly faded red Kansas city shirt she was wearing. With a breath, she pulled on the way too long for her shirt and smiled at Ted. “You know I have to steal this, right?”

“Wouldn’t expect any less.” Said Ted before rising from his chair and running a hand through his bed head.

“So I don’t know what Beard’s appetite is like, but I’ll eat double that, please.”

“Sorry bout’ that. Figured it was...”

“Easier than telling your son that you had a woman he’s never met before, sleep over on his dad’s couch. Don’t worry, I understand. You don’t need to justify anything to me about what you think is best for your son.”

Ted ran a finger across his mustache as he stared at Juliet from across the room. “Is this you flirting with me, cause’ I gotta’ be honest, I’m feeling very out of my element. I haven’t been single for a long time and I’m in another country, I’ve now had a one-night stand with Sassy, and now I got you standing there looking like somethin’ out of a magazine I would have hidden under my bed from my momma.”

A light laugh left Juliet. “Yeah Ted, this is me flirting with you. Beard told me everything that happened, why you came over here about the divorce. So this is me flirting, but not going any farther, because like I said, I cling hard, and I don’t want you to hurt me if you realize New Ted isn’t this Ted. You need to figure out who Ted Lasso is now, before you can start worrying about anything else. Also, who is Sassy? Is she hot?” Juliet asked in earnest, the wiggle in her brow causing Ted to let out a laugh.

“You are a smart cookie. I knew there was a reason I liked you. But you gotta’ explain to me how you got all this from Beard?”

“Oh, we are texting buddies. Although I’m in his phone as Julian and I’m pretty sure his girlfriend thinks you are gay, but that is besides the point. I want to hear all about this one-night stand you had.” Juliet bounced into the kitchen with an enormous smile. “Is she hot? Was she good? Do I get to meet her?”

“A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell.”

“Perfect answer Ted. Now can we eat? I’m hungry!”

Chapter Three Coming...

#ted lasso #ted lasso/oc #ted lasso x oc #ted lasso fanfic

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faegoddessog · 1 year

Text

Seventy Two Hours of Bliss Ch. 38/41

Chapter 38: Letters from the Ice

Chapter Warnings: Explicitly mature content, 18+ only, talk about masturbation, separation angst,

Series Masterlist

Series Summary:

You are neighbors with Austin Butler on the Gold Coast of Australia just prior to shooting Elvis. You become just friends because he is taken. However, after he is single again, you both find out just how attracted you are to one another and things get unrelentingly hot.

SERIES WARNING: Explicitly mature content, 18+ only, here there be lemons.

Authors Notes: I started writing this while remodeling my kitchen, so that informed the slightly quirky narrative. It starts slow, but once it heats up, it is on fire. I have tried to pull facts from RL as much as I could, but obviously there are some assumptions and flat out dreamy wishes involved here.

Chapter 38: Letters from the Ice

8.25.2020

Hey babe!

So, yay email! Hopefully this will work for us. :) But the internet is SO SLOW. Even with barely anyone here it took 10 min for my email to load. I am told by the winterers that trying to upload a video is all but impossible. But a picture *can* go through. Thank the local deity that we don’t have to super old school it and use carrier penguins! Yay! Well we finally made it to McMurdo. I can’t believe it’s been a whole month since I’ve seen you, well except for the phone calls in Christchurch. It feels like the band aid is really ripped off now. I’m just trying to breathe through it. I hope you are staying busy or at least distracted. I am excited to finally be here after 5 days of delayed flights as is the rest of my group. We’ve taken to calling ourselves a flock. I have no idea why. So I’ve got a room all to myself right now, but we’ll see how many people show up for the mainbody season in October, I may or may not have a roommate. So, there I was trying to get settled and I opened my big suitcase and found the books and the dark chocolate and the candles and the little bottle of essential oil blend. Fuck it smells like you. It made me cry and smile at the same time. Thank you baby. This is a classic pic me in front of the station sign. It looks darker than it was, but we only had 4 hours of sunlight and there was a storm coming. Wow, I thought I'd been through blizzards at home. This was nothing compared to what they got here! I’d send you a photo. But it’s literally just white.

I do have a confession to make. You remember that freakin’ hot phone sex we had during my quarantine? Yeah… um.. I recorded the audio, yup, every time. I’m gonna listen to your amazing voice telling me to touch myself. I think I’ll lube up my butt plug you gave me and push it into my ass imagining it’s you. Fuck I miss you. I miss your body next to mine at night and your cock in me in the morning. I love you Aus, I miss you. All the kisses for you. ~Your Kitten

8/26/20

Kitten!!! I’m so stoked that we still get to keep in touch. Even if only over email. That pic of you in front of the sign feels surreal. I can't even tell it's you with all the layers! The landscape looks so desolate. I’m so glad you found my gifts, that’s just stuff I don’t like to live without, kinda like you. I’m not liking living without you. Although I’m STILL finding post-it notes. You little fiend, putting them in all my clothes. Makes me smile and cry too. I did get some exciting news though. Baz, as you know, has been checking up on me since you left. I really love him, he is such a marvelous soul. Anyway he told me yesterday that we will start rehearsals next week and filming is slated to start up again in mid to late September. Thank God, I gotta have something to focus on other than this empty apartment. I’m just waiting for the rest of the crew to get back in country, then I’ll be too busy to think. Also, I’m gonna talk to your Uncle Roy this week and make sure I can still stay here. Baz says the studio will give me a stipend for the apartment and I’ll just pass that along to him. That reminds me, Kate said she had not seen anything related to us from Marissa’s channel and that she would be willing to have a meeting with her, but she won’t make any guarantees. I have a confession too, I went and developed those couple rolls of film we'd taken. It was so fucking sad that you weren’t there to play with while I waited for them to dry. Anyway, You know how I wasn’t sleeping in our bedroom yet? Well, I put the photos I took of you up all over our bedroom and it finally let me sleep in there alone, although I might’ve cried myself to sleep just a little. When I woke up hard I had those gorgeous pictures of you in that black dress to jerk off to. Fuck you are hot and fuck I miss you so much. Oh my god, just reading that you are fucking your ass with my butt plug has me hard, you are such a naughty Kitten. I might have to keep track of how naughty you are and punish you accordingly when I see you next. I wish you were here to suck this hard cock right now. I think when I finish I’ll stroke myself while looking at those closeups of you and imagine your luscious lips wrapped around me. I’d send you a pic of it, but I’m terrified it could get out somehow. I love you more, I miss you terribly, only 187 more days to go.. Roughly. ~Your Aus

9.20.20

Hello my love, So how’s things? Are you ready? I’m so excited for you to start filming again. You got this babe! I believe in you! (forehead kisses) There were satellite issues again when I tried to call you last night. I’m so sad we keep getting hosed on our phone calls. Soon you’ll be too busy to take a call from me! We are pretty solidly in the groove of our workday, that’s 6 days a week. I’m on the day shift right now and it’s been a bunch of maintenance checks and rebuilds on buildings and answering calls for service. There is a big build that got delayed due to covid, but we will be starting on that pretty soon. The food is surprisingly good. The galley really loves their themes. Taco Tuesday, Asian Nights, Sunday Brunch. The pizza is pretty good too! It’s not a woodfired oven made by the hands of angels good, but when you want pizza, it’ll do. Made a good group of friends, though we are all weird misfits here it seems. Do you remember when people had to talk to each other instead of stare at their phones? It’s like that here, since there isn’t wifi, not that it would work right. It’s amazing how old school it feels, it’s kind of wonderful. Probably sounds like torture to you my shy, introverted darling.

Most of the people here are guys. It’s like 70/30. I’m the only woman in my department, not like that’s new to me. The first day I showed up for work the foreman asked if I was in the wrong place. They tried to give me shit at first until I out-hammered them all in a nailing race. Just a dumb little competition thing. But it stopped them from fucking with me. Yeah, I know my stuff assholes! Lol! Now we are all good. Except for Joe, I do not like Joe. He just rubs me wrong and won’t let the girl thing go. We may have to have a little come-to-Jesus meeting during which I emasculate him with the claw on my purple hammer! The other women I’ve met have also been surprised by the overall disappointing behavior from some of these guys. There is a saying on the ice- “Antarctica: Full of badass women and mediocre men.” This is true. Not all the guys are that way though, some of them are nice and those are the ones that get laid. Yeah, there are a lot of hookups happening and there are free condoms, like, everywhere. No one here is as interesting or as sexy as my man though. Plus, you spoiled me with not having to use condoms. I miss your skin on mine, I miss your lips on mine, I miss your cock in my mouth. Since I don’t have a roommate yet, I think I’ll light your candle, put on the sexy music playlist we used to fuck to and add some of that EO to my wrists. I’m going to suck on my dildo. I’ll start slow just licking the tip, I’ll imagine your hand in my hair and your sky blue eyes watching every flick of my tongue. I’ll make sure my lips are good and wet before I slide it down my throat. And I’ll be fucking myself with my vibrator, the one that's curved. The only thoughts I'll have in my mind are ‘it’s your cock in my mouth, it’s your hand on my pussy, it’s you, it’s you, it’s you’. I’m gonna cum so hard, moaning around your imagined cock in my mouth, I may have to do it twice. God I miss you. Tell me more about how you jerk off to pictures of me, that is so damn hot. I’m just imagining you stroking yourself, playing with the tip a little. Damn. ~Your Slutty Kitty

9/22/20

My bad, bad Kitty, I do not know how you do it, but are you aware of how fucking sexy you are? Even just via email you get me so riled up. How do you take the mere 26 letters of the alphabet and make them into these sexy fucking pictures in my head?! I miss my cock in your mouth too, I miss you laying out on the bed with your legs wide and my head buried between them. I don’t have anything to lick and pretend is your pussy, but I promise I will make up for it when I see you next. Oh lord I gotta go take care of this massively hard co

9/22/20

Hey love, Sorry, I hit send without meaning to! You got me so hot I wasn’t thinking clearly. It didn’t take me long baby, I used that coconut oil from just before you left. The scent totally put me right back there with you on your knees devouring my cock. That reminds me, I need to get that dress dry-cleaned… It’s stopped smelling like you now so… I suppose it’s time. I’m ready- ish, the last 6 months made me feel like all the Elvis sunk into my bones. I’ve been working like a fiend with Baz and Polly and Irene and Erik. They have all commented on how it’s different now, more natural. My day is so full of Elvis again it’s hard to think about anything else. I’m so nervous all over again. I’m waking up at 3 again. I miss you. Not just for the sex baby, but you. You make me better. Please keep trying to call, my PA on set will have my phone when I don’t. I put one of your pics up in my trailer, btw, one of the clothed ones. I kiss my fingers and touch it every time I leave and say hello to it when I come in. People that see me do it still don't know who you are, (Baz and Tom are good secret keepers). That last article with the pics of you and I at the airport really threw them all off. I think Kate told me that the paps were searching the passenger lists for all outgoing planes to Europe that day to see if they could figure out who you were. It's fun to keep them guessing. I totally get the hooking up, happens on set too. People are people. I’m not worried about you Kitten. How’s your demon though… she doin’ ok? Getting out of hand at all… pun intended! Ok, early call in the morning. I love you so much. 160 days +/- ~ton Roi

10.11.20

My darling man, FUCK I am still riding the high from talking to you last week! I can’t believe I caught you in your trailer too! I’m sorry I couldn’t play sexy games back with you because the phone was too public on my end. I loved you telling me how you were stroking yourself though and how you came on your stomach. I went right back to my room, to rub one out. Damn. Luckily my new roommate was at work. She asked me when she moved in why I had a pic of you and me on the wall by my desk. I told her I was in love with you. It was so funny, she sat down on the couch and started talking about you like we were in middle school. ‘ He’s so dreamy and I hear he broke up with his girlfriend and is dating a French woman!’ “was that the only time you met him?” Oh my god, it was all I could do to not laugh in her face. I’m sorry baby, I had to tell her. I hope you aren’t mad! I still don’t think she believes me, even after I showed her pictures of us (appropriately clothed of course). I appreciate you asking after that sexy bitch in my head. She is doing fine, staying on her lead. None of these people would satisfy her anyway. She’s too far gone for you. :) My daily horniness level has chilled out since I’ve not been getting fucked by you on the regular, though there are times! Oh and fun news! I’m going to be setting up a few field camps in a couple weeks, so I won’t be in touch much after halloween -ish. But I WILL be out on the literal ice. Think warm thoughts for me! At least I will get away from Joe! He is still a dick.

~your naughty Kitten (for different reasons)

10/12/20

Kitten, Of course I’m not mad! Once you are back I want the whole world to know that you are mine and I am yours. Also, Kate set up a meeting with your cousin Marissa. I talked to her and got her info when I talked to Uncle Roy. (He still refuses to let me pay him.) Kate was impressed by her and is planning on offering her a paid internship. Love you baby, go conquer that ice! ~Aus

(Please read the following letter with a deep southern accent of yore) Twenty fifth day of October in the year of our Lord two thousand twenty My darling Austin, I pray that this electronic mail finds you healthy and hale. I have been feeling dashed about by the trials and travails of my good work here on the deep continent. We no longer are a sleepy little hamlet of a mere 200 people. Oh no! A veritable influx of learned people hath arrived, swelling our little cold town to over 800! The light has arisen indeed as we currently receive a joyful 15 hours of sunlight each blessed day. My dear roommate Tabitha seems to have accepted the love that exists between us, my dear Austin, since she overheard our delightful conversation on the telephone a scant few days ago. Indeed it seems she has spread our information to the other members of the kitchen staff as one of the good ladies asked me about it the other day as I procured my nourishment. The person in question didn’t know you, but was happy to know I was dating someone, since apparently the rumor had been circulating that I was a person uninterested, sexually that is. The very idea! My darling Austin, I shall be leaving in two days time for my quest on the ice. It will be my pleasure to erect structures providing temporary shelter from which the good men and women of science may illicit new and exciting information about this oft times perplexing world that humanity calls home. And before you query, yes, I must confess my dear Mr. Butler, I have been imbibing in the devil's drink and yes my loins still burn for you. Pray for me, dear man, that I may endure such hardships that may come and be delivered forthwith into your awaiting arms. With all my love and tenderness. Miss Kitten P.S. Sorry about drunk-as-fuck girl up there, she is just being silly. Can’t wait to fuck your brains out again! Love you -She Demon

10/26/20

Kitten, You are so weird. I fucking love it and you. I’m so glad you are mine. Filming is so far so good. I barely have time to think, which is perfect. Also, I was eating a mango in the kitchen last night. You know how you cut the side off and score it then turn it inside out? Well, I decided just to eat it off the rind like that, instead of cut the chunks out. And all of a sudden it was like eating your dripping pussy. I am slightly ashamed to say that I dropped my pants right there and jerked off with the coconut oil. The juice was dripping down my chin and chest and onto my cock. Oh, My. God. It was the best one yet. I’ll have to do it for you (to you?) when you get back. Needless to say, a whole new world has opened up to me. I WILL be buying more mangoes. I may not be able to see one without getting aroused from here on out. I think I’ll go have the other half now…

Good luck doing bang! bang! construction things on the ice! Stay safe and warm. I’ll talk to you when you get back. Forever yours- Austin

10.27.20

Aus- Oh, Mangoes… Damn. Now I fucking want mangoes. Freshies are like currency down here, I haven’t seen a mango though. Just so you know, that last letter was a bet between me and Tabs. We did karaoke that night and I got a little sloshed and started talking in accents. She didn’t think I would do it. Lol! I tried calling you a few min ago, but no answer. I’m leaving in an hour. I’ll email and try to call when I’m back! Oh and come to find out that Joe thought he was flirting with me the whole time, he likes me. Was about to pull my pigtails, I suspect. Boys are so weird. I confronted him and he confessed he was crushing on me pretty hard. I told him about you ( not by name) and that I wasn’t available (plus I would fucking break him). He seems to have backed off and will hopefully treat me like a person. So yay! Growth! Love you tons, Tally ho! Kitten

10/28/20

Darling, It breaks my heart that I missed hearing your voice. I really needed it too. We filmed some gut wrenching stuff this week and I just needed you. I love you, I love you, I love you. Austin 124 +/-

11.22.20

Sweet, sweet man, I love you too! I’m sorry you had a tough week and I wasn’t there for you. I promise after this, I will never be more than a text away from you again. I hope it’s gotten better! I’m going to try calling tonight when I get off work. Thank god I’m back though! We had a crazy, crazy time. We got caught in a freak storm at Amundsen-Scott. We were supposed to be there for like a day to get supplies and such. We ended up there for 5 days! But after that things cleared up, it was amazing. We set up 5 different camps. Everything from simple temporary polar escapes on wooden platforms to actual shelters that will have to stand up for the rest of the season if not longer. One was at a penguin rookery! They were adorable and came right up to us! Miss you love, hopefully we will talk soon! ~Kitten

11/23/20

Babe, Those pictures with you and the penguins are unreal! I can't believe they just walked up to you. It blows my mind that anything can live down there. How are things with Joe? Did he actually change his behavior? I would say ‘do you need me to come down there?’ but I know you got this, my amazing, strong sexy beast of a woman. I hope I can pick up when you call next. Missing hearing your voice broke my heart. ~Aus 98+/- (Why is this taking so damn long! You should be in my arms.)

12.14.20

Dear darling Austin, Thank god we got to talk last week, I was really worried about you. Digging into the pain about your mom… I just wish I was there to hold you tight, like she would’ve been. I know I didn’t know her, but from everything you’ve said, I know I would have adored her. (hugs, hugs and more hugs) I got your package yesterday! I opened it without thinking, thank god all the things in it were wrapped! Except for the mangoes… fuck baby. They are perfectly ripe right now, if a little frozen. I’m gonna go eat some mango pussy. Would you like that? watching me eat pussy….

Did you get my package yet? It might be a bit silly. But you can open it when you get it. :) We have been digging into this new building since I got back. The guys worked on all the steel pieces and I’m lead on the framing team. It’s definitely different from what I’ve been used to doing. But I’m finding that all my skills are actually helpful because I know the pieces that come next, so I don’t let the crew fuck things up for the electricians and plumbers and drywallers that will be coming behind us in the future. I miss you baby, I know we keep saying that to each other, so much that it’s like saying something over and over again and the shape of it feels odd in your mouth all of a sudden. But even though I have made great friends here and am in a routine that pulls me from day to day, it would be perfect if you were here with me. With you on my arm, no one would try to pull my pigtails! Love you with all my heart ~Kitten

12/25/20

Baby Doll, Merry Christmas!! Babe, I did get your package, and I didn’t open in until this morning. Why would you say it’s silly? It’s amazing. You painted this? I am going to take it in and have it framed so I can hang it up. Wow. If you ever wanted to stop doing construction, you could be a professional artist. Tom and Rita have invited a bunch of us up to their place for dinner. I’m about to go get ready but just wanted to tell you that yes, I get it. Saying it gets old, but it doesn't mean we don’t feel it still. Yeah, mom would’ve adored you right back. I fucking miss you. I fucking love you. And holy fuck yes on watching you eat pussy, mango or otherwise.

66 days +/- (can we make time move faster?) ~Your own personal elf- Austin

12.25.20

Dear Austin, Merry Christmas!! I loved your gifts, they are perfect for here! Lip balm and sunscreen and the warmest, silliest socks. That mini humidifier is sitting on my bedside table as we speak! The running gloves for under my big ones are going to be a game changer! Now I can do fiddly bits without my fingers getting cold! Although it’s a ridiculously balmy 25 degrees Celsius out there right now. I don’t even bring my red parka out right now! Today I joined the Antarctic Polar bear club. Yup I plunged into barely above freezing water in my underwear, no not the unicorn ones, I actually had some polar bear ones I brought just for this! I was nothing if not on theme! It was fucking cold. And exhilarating! But I’m not sure I want to do it again. Luckily we went right into the sauna to warm up! Love you ever so much, give Tom and Rita my love! ~Your Xmas Kitten

1/1/21

My sweet Kitten, Thank you for the phone call, oh my god I needed it. I’m feeling so worn out, even though we kinda had this week off and I’ve been just sleeping as much as I can and going to the beach with other cast members, it’s just not the same without my best girl next to me. (that’s you, btw) I wish I had you with me last night to kiss. I did end up kissing Olivia, but it was just a new years eve peck thing, plus it’s not like we’ve not kissed on set. Is that weird for you? I’ve never asked you about it. Love you so much, it hurts. I def need a kiss on my heart. 59 days +/- ~Yours, Austin

1.3.21

Austin, When I see you, you are gonna get all the kisses on every part of you. Real talk babe: where I’d like to be there to remind you what my kisses are like and reap the benefits if you get turned on, kissing on set doesn't bug me, that’s just part of acting. Didn’t Elvis kiss like all the girls in the audience? Super-spreader much? Ha! TBH, I pecked a few people too when we counted down to midnight. How do you feel about that? Wow, that looks super passive aggressive. I’m def not meaning it that way. Just wondering cuz we’ve never talked about it and I don’t think our games with Loki or ‘the guy from Brisbane’ count as talking about it! Now actually making out with someone like not for work (that’s a crazy sentence right there!)… that we’d def have to talk about. I mean… mostly because I would want to be a part of something hot like that. FOMO!!! On a different note, I sang in Icestock last night. It’s the annual McMurdo music festival. There were comedians and skits and mini plays and bands and a chili cook off! I sang a bunch of stuff with some guys, we had to rehearse on our off time but it was super fun! I had my buddy video it. I’m gonna put it on a USB stick and send it to you, just for fun! There is some other stuff on there too, just for you, including my polar plunge! God we needed a party too. The grind was getting to us all. Yeah we have 24 hours of daylight, but I never knew I’d miss the stars so much! We are about to head into Vessel Season, that means extra people in town, mostly Kiwi and US military, to help unload the massive supply ships. From what I understand we will be pulled to help. I love you baby, soon hunny, soon I miss YOUR kisses ~Kitten

1/8/21

My darling love, Happy Elvis’ birthday! He would've been 86. We had a huge birthday cake on set today. I don’t really care about pecks like that, plus you are too French for me to get up in arms about that. I do feel the same way you do about making out. If you are gonna make out with someone, I want to be there too. If it’s a girl, I def want to be there. That would be hot. We filmed a kissing scene today between young Elvis and younger Priscilla. It really made me miss you so much. I definitely channeled our first kiss into the work. Remember, on the couch? This might be weird to say, but no one kisses me like you do. Love and miss you, 52 days +/- ~Aus

1/25/21

Kitten, Honey, I have a confession. We were rehearsing one of the big shows where Elvis goes into the audience and kisses all the girls. I had to talk my own demon out of taking home an extra and fucking her silly. She looked just enough like you and she was staring at me all dreamy eyed when I was on stage. Then I had to kiss all these women in the audience and I was all worked up. I’m sorry babe, know that I didn’t do anything or even talk to her. But we talked about being honest with one another and I feel better with you knowing. No I’m not asking if I can do anything with her, it was just like a perfect storm to turn me on. Honestly I’ve been too exhausted and terrified to really feel horny lately, so it kinda took me by surprise. I’m so sorry if this makes you mad. Know I love you and I’m not gonna do anything to screw up what we have. ~Austin 35 days +/- (I can wait, I swear)

1.26.21

Babe, Love you, not mad. Will respond more when I have time! ~Your best girl

1.31.21

Ok my love, First of all, I’m sorry this took so long to reply to. It’s been so busy here I’ve not had time. Secondly, I’m not mad. You are human, despite your intrusive thoughts to the contrary. Being attracted to people is just a part of being human. It actually feels really good that you were comfy enough to tell me how you are feeling. Thank you for trusting me. I have this ideal thought in my head that I’d want to be cool with a sorta semi-permeable relationship. Like yeah, making out with a women with you would be hot… fuck I think making out with a man with you would blow my fucking mind. (would you be down for that? Kissing a guy?) But I know I’m not cool with either of us just fucking others at will, at least not when we are this far away. How could you reclaim me, or I you, when these miles exist between us? Share someone with you? Sure, but we need to actually sit down and talk about it face to face. When I'm back and we’ve talked and you and I have had our fill of one another, if that girl is game and we get along… I’m down to try it out, baby. If you are even interested in that. There are a few cute Airmen here, but my demon seems to be slumbering. Remember, the less I get the less I want it. It could also be the fucking 10-12 hour days we’ve been putting in! Which is VERY different from fucking 10-12 hours a day. Remember our first 72 hours? Damn that was amazing. I love you baby, now and forever, Your lover- Kitten

2/4/21

Amazing woman of my dreams, How are you so fucking cool, do you know how hard I had to work to get my other gf’s to be cool about kissing on set, let alone talk about sharing a person. This whole thing makes me love you even more. How do I feel about kissing a guy? I think it depends on the guy. But it doesn’t squick me out or anything. Honestly right now, if it meant getting to hold you in my arms, I’d do it and more in a heartbeat. And for the record, I don’t think I could ever ‘get my fill’ of you babe. I love you so much, 25 days +/- (is that fucking real, only 25 days???) Devoted to you- Austin

2.25.21

Babe, Oh my god! I am so done helping unload and reload ships! Give me my fucking hammer and let me pound something! So I have some shitty news. Y’know how, on the phone we were talking about my departure date being end of February and being back with you by March 1st. Well, I got my departure date, it’s not until March 10th, and I can’t move it up. They even offered me a bonus to stay overwinter, but I declined. As cool as it’s been I need to get off the ice and into your arms. So I won't be back on the Gold Coast until March 12th at the earliest. I don’t know if I have to quarantine. I have to arrange for my stuff to be shipped to Greece in that time as well. You say you have to leave for London mid March. I’m freaking out that I might miss you. I’m gonna try to call tomorrow so we can talk about it. Fuck this sucks, Love you so much ~Kitten

#Austin Butler #Austin Butler smut #Austin Butler x reader #Austin Butler fic #Austin butler fanfic #@purejasmine #@slowsweetlove #@richardslady121

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