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l4ndonorizz · 9 hours

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first date gone wrong / lando norris x reader

pairing: lando norris x reader

song: videoclub - roi

summary: a chaotic first date with Lando Norris—from spilled wine to fire alarms—turns into an unforgettable night, proving that sometimes, disaster leads to the best moments

wc: 1.5k

You had been waiting for this night for what felt like forever. After months of playful banter, lingering looks, and not-so-subtle flirting, Lando had finally asked you out. When he suggested dinner at a trendy new restaurant in the heart of the city, your excitement had skyrocketed. You spent far too long getting ready, agonizing over what to wear, how to do your hair, and if your nerves were showing.

This was Lando Norris, after all. Charming, witty, and undeniably attractive—not to mention one of the most talented drivers in Formula 1. The thought of this date being a disaster hadn’t even crossed your mind.

But perfect was far from how things were turning out.

The first sign of disaster came when Lando texted you, telling you he was running late. Something about getting stuck in traffic after a last-minute sim session. Typical. Still, when he finally showed up, his sheepish grin and casual apology had you forgiving him instantly.

“Sorry, love. I swear, the city just conspires against me,” he said, pulling you into a quick hug before stepping back to give you a once-over. His eyes widened, clearly impressed. “You look...wow.”

Your cheeks heated at the compliment, but before you could respond, the maître d’ cleared his throat, reminding you both that you were, in fact, standing in the entrance of a fancy restaurant, blocking traffic.

Once seated, things seemed to fall into place. The restaurant was beautiful—dimly lit with a warm, inviting atmosphere. The soft glow of candlelight flickered between you, and the background noise of clinking glasses and murmured conversations created the perfect ambiance. Lando, dressed in a casual suit jacket and his signature charm, leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, clearly ready to dive into the night.

“So,” he said, flashing you a grin, “how have I managed to convince you to actually go out with me?”

You rolled your eyes, playing along. “Convince me? More like I was waiting for you to finally get a clue.”

Lando let out a bark of laughter, his eyes crinkling at the edges. “Fair point. I guess I’m a bit slow off the line sometimes.”

The conversation flowed easily, as it always did with Lando. He made you laugh without even trying, and before you knew it, you were both swapping stories about your lives, joking about past experiences, and sharing little pieces of yourselves that you hadn’t before. It felt effortless—like you’d been doing this for ages.

That is, until the drinks arrived.

As the waiter set the glasses down, one of them tipped slightly, sending red wine spilling all over your lap. You gasped, pushing your chair back in shock as the cold liquid seeped into your clothes.

“Oh, no,” you muttered, trying to dab at your dress with a napkin.

Lando was instantly on his feet, grabbing napkins and doing his best to help. “I’m so sorry! I’ll—uh, I’ll get them to bring something else. Can we get some towels?” he called out to the waiter, who looked equally mortified.

You couldn’t help but laugh. It was a ridiculous situation—your carefully chosen outfit now stained with wine—but the way Lando was scrambling to fix things made it impossible to be upset. “Well, at least I didn’t wear white.”

Lando grinned, though his eyes were full of guilt. “I swear this never happens…except for that one time I spilled water all over my steering wheel during a stream.”

You chuckled. “You’re not exactly selling yourself here.”

“Stick around. I promise I get better,” he said with a wink, his teasing easing the tension.

Once the wine debacle was resolved, things seemed to settle again. The waiter brought fresh drinks, and you resumed your conversation, laughing about the incident. But as the evening continued, so did the mishaps.

Just as your food arrived, the fire alarm went off. You stared at each other in confusion, until one of the waiters rushed over, explaining that someone in the kitchen had overcooked a dish, and the smoke had set off the alarm. The entire restaurant had to be evacuated.

You and Lando found yourselves standing outside in the chilly night air, arms crossed as you waited for the chaos to die down. The sight of him, bundled up in his jacket with his hair slightly tousled from the wind, was somehow even more charming.

“Well,” Lando said with a wry smile, rubbing the back of his neck. “This is going well.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Is this part of your plan? To make this the most chaotic date ever?”

Lando grinned sheepishly. “What can I say? I like to keep things interesting.”

The restaurant staff eventually got the situation under control, and you were allowed back inside. Your food was still warm, surprisingly, and it looked delicious. For a few blissful moments, it seemed like things were back on track.

Until, of course, Lando knocked over his drink. Again.

The glass tumbled across the table, the contents spilling everywhere. You reached out instinctively, trying to catch it, but it was too late. The drink splashed onto the floor, and in a comedy of errors, the waiter—already flustered from the earlier fire alarm—slipped on the liquid, sending the rest of the meal crashing down with him.

You and Lando sat in stunned silence for a moment before both of you burst into uncontrollable laughter.

“Well,” you managed between giggles, “at least the food didn’t end up in my lap this time.”

Lando leaned back in his chair, shaking his head in disbelief. “I’m officially the worst date ever. Like, this is rock bottom.”

You wiped away a tear from laughing so hard and gave him a sympathetic smile. “I don’t know, I think this is pretty unforgettable.”

“Unforgettable in the worst possible way,” he groaned, though you could see the humor returning to his eyes. “I swear, I’ll make it up to you. How about a second date? One where we don’t destroy an entire restaurant?”

You smiled, warmth spreading through your chest. “Only if it ends with a McFlurry.”

Lando chuckled, nodding. “Deal.”

By the time you both finally finished the salvaged portions of your meal, the restaurant staff had given up on trying to maintain any semblance of order. You could feel the eyes of the other patrons on you, some clearly entertained by your evening’s chaos, while others just wanted you both out of there before another disaster struck.

When you left the restaurant, the air was cool and crisp, the city buzzing quietly around you. Lando reached for your hand as you walked down the street, his fingers lacing with yours as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

“This is turning into the weirdest night,” you said with a laugh, glancing up at him.

He smiled, his thumb brushing lightly over your knuckles. “I don’t know. I think it’s one of the best.”

You raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Even after everything that went wrong?”

Lando shrugged, his gaze softening. “Yeah. Because I’m with you.”

You rolled your eyes at the cheesiness of his comment, but your heart still skipped a beat. You had to admit—there was something charming about the whole mess of a night. It was chaotic, unpredictable, and far from perfect, but somehow, it felt like exactly what you both needed.

As you continued walking, the conversation turned light again, the easy rhythm between you returning as you joked about the disaster of a date. But there was an undercurrent now—something deeper that hadn’t been there before. The casual touches, the lingering glances—it all felt like more than just playful teasing now.

By the time you reached your car, the energy between you had shifted. Lando stopped, turning to face you, his hand still wrapped around yours.

“Thanks for not running away mid-date,” he teased, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

You smiled, stepping a little closer to him. “Hey, I like a bit of chaos. Keeps things interesting.”

He chuckled softly, his gaze dropping to your lips for just a fraction of a second before meeting your eyes again. The playful banter from earlier was gone, replaced by something heavier—something that made your heart race.

“I guess…chaos works for us,” Lando murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Before you could respond, Lando closed the distance between you, his hand gently cupping the side of your face as he leaned in. His lips brushed against yours, soft and tentative at first, like he was testing the waters. But when you kissed him back, the hesitation disappeared, and the kiss deepened, warm and full of the unspoken feelings that had been building between you for months.

The world around you seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you standing there, lost in the moment. His other hand slid around your waist, pulling you closer, and you melted into him, feeling the warmth of his body against yours.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, both of you breathing heavily.

“Well,” Lando said with a breathless chuckle, “I’d say that was the best part of the night.”

You smiled, your heart still racing. “Yeah. I’d say it was worth all the chaos.”

#f1 fic #f1 one shot #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 #formula 1 #lando imagine #lando norris #lando norris one shot #lando x reader

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planetwaynez · 4 months

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obsessed

Jason x Roy x Fem!Reader

Notes: This is part 2 to bad ideia right? !!! So like I said on part one I got exicited and wrote too much, but this is a very special universe to me and I hope you guys enjoy the part two!

WARNINGS: kidnapping, tourture, aggression, complicated feelings, talks about death and guilt, murder, SMUT! cunnalingus, DP, edging.

Words: 7,2k

TAGLIST: @ilyyuuji @witchymomfrien @makiplsfkme @parttimeshadowhunter @fandxmslxt69 @27drunkdeer @solarrexplosion @mariam12344

Synopsis: She is safe once again after Roy and Jason's help, now she can live her life fully - or at least that's what they think.

TWO WEEKS LATER - AFTER SHE LIVES

It's been two weeks since she left the safe house that turned her home for four months.

Even though she knows she is safe, Y/N can’t shake the feeling of being watched away, maybe she is being paranoid or just finding ways to reach out to Roy and Jason again but deep down, she is scared that they didn't eliminated all of the threats, that one got away and is in hidden, waiting the right moment to strike her.

Y/N walks down the busy street of New York, always looking over her shoulder, even though she knows nothing will happen, she needs to relax and live her life again.

She takes a deep breath and enters the bookshop, feeling the warmth of the place envelop her and inducing her to forget all of her worries; She will relax more from now on, if they said there is no danger, then there is no danger.

At least, that's what they want her to believe;

TWO MONTHS LATER - AFTER SHE LIVES

Y/N is finally comfortable in her own skin again, finally comfortable in walking around the city without keeping an eye out, finally comfortable to go out at night with her friends and she even applied to her masters degree. And that's exactly what they wanted from her.

You see, it’s not because you killed a few snakes in a nest that you managed to kill them all.

Arsenal and Red Hood may have killed a bunch of the mafia but they didn’t kill all of it, and that’s why Victor Zsaz watches her right now. He was hired by a very angry heir to kill her and boy, was he enjoying watching her become comfortable in herself again. It was like watching a child learn how to walk, except that he was watching a grown woman learn how to be functional again.

Victor takes a deep breath and smiles as Y/N gets in the busy pub, she is smiling and is dressed in a short black dress, looking adorable and oh so dumb to her surroundings.

He made sure that tonight none of the boys would be around, since from time to time they come to see how she is doing on her own. It's cute, but totally ineffective since they never caught a glimpse of him. He enters the pub and follows her from a distance, keeping an eye on her movement around the crowded space, his instructions are very clear. Kidnap her, take her to the heir that he didn’t bother learning the name, torture her a bit and then kill her off. An easy job, especially now that she is drinking again and it looks like the six shots of tequila she just took are hitting hard.

Victor sits at the bar and waits;

And waits; and waits and waits;

Until it is around three in the morning and she looks wasted. He smiles and decides it's time;

He walks to her with a soft smile on his lips, getting mentally ready to deal with her drunkness.

“Hello, lovely” he says, touching her waist lightly; She turns around and tilts her head to the side, but she smiles nonetheless.

“Hello!” she screams, her eyes are glossy and they can’t focus on much at the same time; He smiles even more.

“You are so pretty” Victor says, getting closer to her and she giggles like the stupid brainless thing that she is; “How about we go to a more secluded place?” he shoots his shot and waits for her answer;

He knows he is not the hottest guy but he is fairly confident in his skills, and when she nods biting her lips, he knows he got her;

Victor drags her out of the pub, listening to her talk about how she is not one for casual sex, but it's making an exception because ‘it's been too long’ and he is kinda cute. He is getting tired of her voice so when they reach his car and she is seated at the passenger's seat, he drugs her so she blacks out. It doesn't take much for her to pass out and look miserable. Victor chuckles and walks around the car, sitting at the driver's seat and taking off to the location he has to take her to..

She knew she shouldn’t have gone comfortable, she knew should’ve listened to her gut and called Roy and Jason but now it is too late. When she finally wakes up, she is in an empty room with a cold light on top of her head, her eyes hurt and her stomach is making her sick. Y/N looks around and sees no one, being alone is not a good thing, it’s a way to toy with her head and she can feel panic rising.

She takes a deep breath and touches the ring in her ring finger, pushing just lightly the panic button that is disguised as a ruby. It’s going to be ok, soon they will be here to rescue her and she won’t have to be waiting for death to collect her.

“Look who just woke up” a voice says as the door is open, revealing a bald man with one scar in his eyebrow, he has a big smile on his lips and she remembers him. It’s the guy from the pub.

She is so fucked.

“Who are you?” she asks, feeling bile rise in her throat, nausea hitting her like a train.

“Me? I am no one, lovely” he walks closer, until his nose is touching hers. “However you must know my boss, Mr. Campbell”

Y/N feels her blood getting cold, her head gets empty and her heart is racing faster than its recommended. Roy said they killed the man, unless it’s someone else.

The door opens again and a young tall man enters the room, his eyes are focused on her and he has a mean quiver to his lips, making her nausea even stronger. This is not the Mr. Campbell that she meets, but he looks an awful lot like him. Probably a son that many didn’t know about.

“Y/N” he says, his voice is pure venom as he crosses the room, coming in her direction “I am going to have so much fun with you”

She takes a deep breath, getting ready for anything that these two throw her way. Even death.

…

When Jason and Roy got the call from Y/N’s panic button they were kissing. Hard. Kissing to the point where they were shirtless and Roy was sitting in Jason’s lap. But everything stopped when their own rings in their ring fingers started to beep like a siren, very loudly; They looked at each other and started to move as fast as they could.

Roy is calling Dinah and asking for a private plane while he puts on his combat boots and Jason is cursing himself for ever letting Roy convince him that taking a trip to Los Angeles was a good idea for their anniversary.

They are out of the motel in less than twenty minutes and driving as fast as possible to the airport, the localization of Y/N is the outskirts of New York City, and they need to get there fast before something awful happens to her. They don’t say it but they know they will never live a full life again if she dies. She was not theirs but knowing that she was alive and healthy was enough for them to move on as much as they could, if she dies, they won’t have anything from her ever again, not even a text asking how Lian is doing.

So they rush as much as they can.

…

Her head feels heavy and her body is in pain. She can’t think or even move, it's like she is in a state of numbness. Nothing seems right and she is just so tired. Y/N wants a nap, or two, or maybe not wake up again.

She is not sure how long it’s been since she pushed the button to call Jason and Roy but she knows what she’s been through in the meantime. Henry Campbell, the son and heir of her ex boss - who’s dead, is having his fun with her mind and body. Henry and Victor punched, kicked, cutted and pushed her hair in their fists until they got bored. They said horrible things and they made mind games with her. She is tired and starting to lose hope.

They won’t come. They don’t care. They knew this was going to happen.

The intrusive and cruel thoughts won’t stop coming, making her dizzy and her throat tight with sadness, her eyes blurry with tears.

She closes her eyes and let her breathing get even, maybe a little nap won’t do any harm, not more than she’s been through already.

But before she drifts into unconsciousness, there is a loud sound outside, screams and gunfire. Her heart beats faster and that spark of hope comes back stronger than ever; The door is kicked out of its hinges and she can see Roy standing there, his lips are tight and his breathing is heavy.

“There you are, pookie” he says, running to get her in his arms; When is in front of her, kneeling to see her state better, Roy feels a mixture of things. First, he feels guilty for not being there for her when she needed and not coming faster to her rescue; Second, he feels relief that she is actually alive. “Look at me, pookie” Roy asks but he sees right out that her eyes are glazing and she can’t seem to understand what is happening - not fully.

“Red Hood!” Roy screams for his boyfriend, hoping that he is already done with Szaz and Henry Campbell, the lost son of the Mr. Campbell they killed a few months prior.

Roy holds Y/N's face, trying to keep her awake, since she has a concussion if he sleeps, he won’t ever again see her eyes or hear her voice. Jason sprints into the room, his breathing heavy even through the voice modulator of his helmet.

“Don’t tell me that she has a concussion” the brunette kneels next to the redhead, moving Y/N hair out of her eyes and looking for her gaze, but he only finds confusion and fear there. His heart is being crushed inside his chest.

“You know she does, but she is not responsive” Roy’s voice is full of panic and he is starting to spiral, and Jason knows that he will have to think hard for everyone so they can’t get out of this labyrinth.

“Take her, I will lead us out” he says, getting up and a plan starts to create itself in his mind. Szaz is unconscious and Henry Campbell and all his men are dead, and if there are more people out there wanting revenge against his and Roy’s girl, he will take them down. He promised he wouldn’t kill without a reason anymore, and now he has a really good one to kill every single person that harms who he loves.

Jason looks behind him, watching as Roy takes Y/N in his arms in a delicate way, so she won’t feel more pain or get scared. They nod at each other and Jason starts to lead the way out of the horrible place, the only thing in his mind is Roys and Y/N’s safety, then getting her to Alfred so he can patch her up. He won’t let anyone with bad intentions near her ever again.

While Jason is focused, Roy is sparling. And he is spariling really hard. His mind is full of bad thoughts. All the possibilities of what could've happened to her if they didn't get there in time. All the physical and mental torture that she gone through because they were careless and were more around her. All the punches, kicks, slaps, cuts because he didn’t feel to his knees in front of her when she was leaving their safe house and begged her to stay with them.

He holds her closer to his chest, holding her bridal style but wanting to lay down, hug her and sob all his tears in her hair, he is scared, so scared that he won’t ever again see her, smell her perfume or hear her laugh. He doesn’t understand how they let Szaz slide, but they did, and now they are paying the price.

…

ONE WEEK LATER - AFTER THE INCIDENT

Jason paces around the bedroom, looking at Y/N in the bed. She’s been out for a week now and Leslie said that she would wake up any moment. Neither him or Roy left this bedroom in their apartment since she got here. The only people allowed are Leslie and Alfred, not even Lian can get inside - they are trying to prevent her from more trauma.

Roy opens the door, walking inside; He looks miserable, dark bags under his eyes and his hair is a mess, but Jason is sure he is not much better than him.

“Nothing yet?” he asks, giving Jason a mug full of black coffee. Jason sighs, holding the ceramic close to his face, letting the warm vapor soothe his headache.

“No” they look at each other, scared that she may not wake up soon or ever.

“She will wake up” Roy says, trying to hold that last string of hope in him. To not give up;

“She will,” Jason nods, his shoulders getting tense with the idea of not having her ever again to cook with, or to talk about classic books while Roy smiles at them.

Roy offers his hand to Jason, and he takes, intertwining their fingers together, hoping and waiting for her to wake up.

…

It’s night time and things are calm, there is no movement in the streets and there is no sound coming from Lian’s room - indicating that she is asleep.

But they wake up with grunts and gasps coming from the bed. Y/N is moving, and she seems scared, nervous. They get closer, each one holding her hand and their eyes full of hope when she gasps again and opens her eyes, her gaze franict, looking at everything and nothing at the same time.

“Calm down, sweets”, Jason says, his voice soft and low, trying to not startle her. Y/N looks at him and frowns, then smiles and her shoulders drop, feelings her mind rest, feeling safe once again.

“Where am I?” she asks, looking around and not recognizing the bedroom that she is in; Roy enters her field vision and smiles lightly at her, caressing the back of her hand with his thumb.

“In our bedroom” he says and she nods, her head is still heavy and she feels her whole body scream at her, sore as a consequence of what happened.

Y/N feels like she is invading Roy and Jason’s private space by being in their bedroom, but little does she know they've been hoping that she stays with them this time, preferably in this bedroom cuddling at night for the rest of their lives.

“How do you feel?” Jason asks, worry evident in his blue eyes, she takes a good look at him and tilts her head to the side trying to understand that the worry he is feeling is directed to her healthiness. His hair is tossed, mixing the white strake with the rest of his black hair, making him look a little silly. But the dark bags under Jason’s eyes are obvious and he looks beyond tired.

She smiles and they feel like the sun is finally shining again - even though it is the middle of the night.

“I am fine” the tears are pooling at her bottom lashes but she swallows them, not wanting to cry right now, not having the mental energy for that. First, she needs to process what happened to her and process Jason and Roy’s actions. Y/N looks at Roy and he looks tired beyond himself, just like Jason. His red hair is greasy and full of knots, the dark bags under his eyes make him seem sick and his freckles seem to lose color without a smile on his lips.

“We were so worried, pookie” Roys says, squeezing her hand in his hand when he truly wanted to squeeze her in his arms and not let go, unless it was to let Jason squeeze her in his.

“Really?” disbelief colors her voice, making her feel more fragile than she already is. Jason moves next to her and clears his throat, clearly wanting to say something.

Since Jasonn died and came back, understanding his emotions was a very difficult task for him, but expressing them? Even worse. His throat dries and his heart beats way too fast, it was very confusing and hard for him to tell Roy his feelings, and now he is going through the same dilemma because of Y/N. Like when he expressed his feelings to Roy, he feels like he needs to assure her that they were both, in fact, worried with her.

“You have no idea how much” that's all that he says, but she always had a easiness

understanding him, so she smiles and nods, swallowing more tears.

Roy reaches for Jason’s free hand and they meet halfway, touching each other with softness, their way to tell one another they are together in this, that it's all going to be okay.

“Could I please be alone for some time? I know it's late but I need to process what just happened” both men exchange looks and their lips contorts into something she can’t quite describe.

“If you need to go to the bathroom, please call for us… you were unconscious for a week.” she nods, looking at the machines attached to her body. They modified their room for her, so she didn’t have to endure staying at a hospital during this time. More tears pool at her bottom and she wants to scream until she loses her voice.

Eventually, they leave the room and she looks at the window, wondering what could've happened if they didn’t rush to her rescue, if she didn’t have the ring in her finger. What was going to be? All the possibilities and different scenarios of tragedy involve her mind and she can feel herself fall in a rabbit hole very fast.

She feels somewhat numb, remembering all the torture and aggression against her. And in the back of her mind she can’t stop thinking that she was a idiot for ever getting herself into this situation at all.

Only if she had been more careful and less curious.

Looking at the moonlight entering the bedroom, she finally cries.

TWO MONTHS LATER - AFTER THE INCIDENT

The coffee machine is making that annoying sound again, which means Roy didn’t fill it with water until it reached the minimum required by it. Y/N sighs and gets up from her spot on the table, to fill the rest of the machine with the water that it needs to work.

It’s been two months since the biggest trauma of her life happened and she can admit that she processed quite well. Way better than she thought she would. But a lot of the healthy way that she dealt with it is thanks to Roy, Jason and Lian. The man practically forced her to stay at their apartment with them after she woke up and recovered. Now their guest bedroom is her bedroom, filled with all of her stuff and smelling like her perfume.

Moving to Gotham was not easy to get adapted to, because it is well, Gotham.

But they make it worth it.

However in the last month they have been weird, as if they are tiptoeing around about something they want to tell her but don’t have the courage to.

“Sorry!” Roy screams from Lian’s room and she can hear the girls laugh from the kitchen, saying something about him always doing the same thing, everyday. Roy tells her she always forgets the minimum required by the machine.

Jason chuckles from her side, he is at the stove, cooking pancakes, since it’s friday and its tradition to eat them on friday mornings. Lian’s words, not hers.

She looks at him and he is focused at his task, looking truly beautiful, so much that it’s almost unfair. His hair is falling a little at his eyes and he is shirtless, exposing his muscles and scarred skin to the sunlight of the morning, making Y/N’s mouth dry and heat pool at her belly; In the last two months she had to process her big, complicated feelings towards Jason and Roy. How they make her giggle and how they make her feel safe. How they make her feel hot and bothered. How they are doesn't belong to her but belong to each other.

“It’s always the same” she says, rolling her eyes and Jason nods, a smile on his lips.

“Honestly at this point I think he is doin’ it to piss you off” Jason flips the pancake and watches the other side cook, never looking at her. He never does, not in the mornings at least. Y/N believes he avoids looking at her in the morning because she looks ugly. Jason doesn’t look at her in the mornings because he knows he won’t be able to control himself when she is wearing short pajamas and her hair looks so soft. He would break and kiss her until their lips got swollen.

“You think so? Because I am sure of it” she turns the coffee machine on again and this time, it doesn’t make a weird sound and the coffee is poured into the jar.

“Good Morning!” Lian screams and runs towards Y/N, hugging her legs and looking up at the young woman.

“Good Morning, Lili” Y/N says, bending down to kiss Lian’s forehead. Once the girl is sitified she turns to Jason and hugs his legs, wishing good morning to him as well;

“Are we eating strawberries with pancakes today, daddy?” the girl asks, her shining eyes on the fruit next to the pancake plate. Y/n smiles softly at the scene, wanting to hug Lian again.

“Yes, baby” Jason answers her, since she talked directly to him; It took a while for Y/N get used to the fact that Lian calls Roy dad and Jason she calls daddy, but once she did, they very easily fall into routine.

The little girl sits at her chair at the table and waits for her breakfast, murmuring a song to herself. Roy gets in the kitchen, wearing a dark green shirt and jeans, his bare feet not making a sound on the floor as he walks. His hair is not in a manbun today, falling to his shoulders softly.

“Good morning” he says, getting to Jason first, holding the brunette's waist and giving him a pack on the lips. Y/N looks away, never getting used to them being physical next to her, even if they never do extravagant things in her presence. She always feels like she is invading their moment. Roy walks to her, his hand going to her cheek and turning her head to him, he already noticed that she looks away everytime he gives Jason a pack or when Jason gives him one, as if she is trying to not stare. They think it’s cute, she always ends up with her cheeks red; Very softly Roy kisses her forehead, as a greeting, when he actually wanted to give her a pack on the lips as well.

But he doesn’t, so he just moves on as always.

“I will be taking Lian to class today, please wait for me to go grocery shopping” Y/N knows he is not asking Jason to wait, since he only leaves on the afternoon to go to his book club down the street, although she has to leave for work at one pm sharp, or she gets late at the hospital lap for her shift.

“You won’t take the long way, right?” she questions, arching her eyebrow to the redhead and he smiles; His hand still holding her face and compelling her to hold his gaze.

“I promise I won’t” and she believes him, not needing more than just those few words from his lips. If he takes the long way, he gets home at eleven am, but if he takes the short way to and back from Lian’s school, he gets home at eight in the morning.

They fall apart, going to the table to take their seats and wait for Jason. He hates when they help him in the morning, saying it’s his duty to Lian and not theirs, so they wait patiently for him to finish breakfast.

While waiting, Y/N and Lian talk about how the girl’s day it’s going to be at school. Y/N listens to the little girls rambles attentively, asking questions at the right time and agreeing when it’s needed to. Roy watches them, his hands itching to reach out to the other side of the table and hold Y/N hand on his, he is getting miserable by the day not being able to treat her as she deserves and Roy knows Jason is already miserable.

She is more than just pretty, she is divine. And it’s not just her looks, it’s her brains and her personality and her soul, it’s everything that makes Y/N that turns her into this being made of light. And Roy wants to devour her every time she laughs at one of his jokes or when she gets his favorite ice cream at the grocery shop before him, because she is just that thoughtful.

He looks at Jason, who is filling another plate with pancakes and they share a look full of meanings. But the main one is: I can’t wait anymore.

They can’t wait anymore, they need to have her to themselves or they are going to slowly turn into mad mans.

Jason walks to the table and leaves the pancake plates, to go back and return with one full of strawberries. Y/N smiles widely and before she starts to eat, she fills Lian’s plate with pancakes and strawberries. They sit next to each other and Jason sits next to Roy, watching the woman and the girl of his life smile at one another and talk in loud voices about Barbie.

They eat, conversation flows easily, especially with Lian at the table and once they are done, Roy leaves with the little girl to take her to school.

“Till later” she screams and holds Roy’s hands, leaving for another day of education.

Y/N smiles and looks at Jason, that is very much to avoid looking at her again.

“I will get ready, soon Roy is back” Jason only nods and starts cleaning, leaving a confusion on Y/N head. He is acting weird, almost robotically but she says nothing, going to her room to get ready for the day.

While Jason cleans, his mind wonders. When she turned around and her back was to him, he looked. He took a really good look at her in those flimsy pajama shorts and that oversized shirt that once belonged to him. He can’t control his mind, not anymore, fantasizing all the things he would do to her if she only looked at them, if she only saw how much they both burn and agonize for her.

He finishes cleaning and goes to his and Roy’s room to get ready, sporting a raging hard on that it’s starting to turn painful.

He sighs and thinks about disgusting things to get calm, to not lose all his senses and jump on her when he sees her again.

Twenty minutes later, Roy is home, calling for them from the living room. Jason is the first to answer, showing up to Roy’s encounter and kissing his boyfriend, hard enough to bruise.

‘Wow, what happened?” Roy asks when they break apart and Jason rests his forehead against Roys.

“She was wearing one of my t-shirts today” Jason answers in a hushed voice, low enough to only Roy hear it and the redhead chuckles and caresses Jason back with one hand, leaving the other in his waist.

“Yeah, yesterday she was wearing one of mine” they both groan lowly, not knowing what to do anymore. They need her just as much as they need each other.

“We have to do something about it” Jason says, his hands playing with Roy’s shirt and wanting to throw a tantrum over not having Y/N.

“Do something about what?” her voice is the one to answer Jason’s and they both stiffen lightly, worried that she hears something she shouldn't, not just yet.

They break apart and turn to her, just to be stunned by her beauty. Y/N was wearing a red suit, paired up with a white satin blouse and white high heels, making her look gorgeous.

Roy never really had a filter and he admits that when he was younger, it was worse. But now, looking at her, he feels like he is twenty again and can’t control his mouth.

“You” he says, not actually thinking anything coerent, all his thoughts were gone and the only thing in his mind, in a loop, was Y/N on all fours sucking his cock while Jason fucked her from behind.

“What?” she asks, walking towards them. Wrong move, Roy thinks. The closer that she gets, the thinner their control becomes.

“Do something about you” Roy repeats himself, this time crossing his arms over his chest, to contain his urges to just grab her like a man cave.

“Oh” she says, and Jason can see in her eyes how oblivious she is. Its evident in her expression that she thinks they are going to kick her out of her apartment. “I will arrange a new place for me, don’t worry, Roy…” she smacks her glossy lips together, avoiding their gaze, “I know it must be weird to live with the ex girlfriend that you had to safe from death, so I will be moving out by the end of the next week” she guarantees and Roy gets angry.

Really angry.

And it’s not easy to get Roy angry. It’s actually quite hard but with a few words, she managed to make him almost furious.

And Jason smiles to himself, stepping back and enjoying the scene that is about to happen. He’s been waiting for the moment that Roy loses his mind, loses his control, loses all his composure because if Roy is the first to move, she won’t think that Jason is cheating. Or that he is out of his mind.

He is, but for a different reason.

“What the fuck did you just said to me?” He doesn't call her pookie and he doesn’t relax his muscles, his jaw is tense. If Jason didn’t know his boyfriend he would have swore that Roy was going to punch Y/N in the face by the way he stood in front of her. But he knows better, he knows he is about to kiss the life out of her, she just has to make the wrong move, again.

And she does; She moves closer to Roy, looking him dead in the eyes, her lips drawn in a mean scowl. “I said that by the end of the next week, I am moving out”

She truly doesn't know how this happened. How the easy going, soft vibe that was going on earlier turned into something heavy, angry and complicated in a few minutes.

“You are a fucking minx” Roy growls, grabbing her neck in one swift motion and collading his lips against hers. Y/N gasps and tries to move from his grip, her eyes open and wide and Jason smiles, a wicked one. The type of smile she never saw on his pretty face and she knows she is in trouble.

Jason moves fast and stands behind her, holding her waist and leaning down to whisper at her ear, “Kiss him, sweets”

And that is all she needs to melt into their hands and kiss Roy back, her hands tangling in his long red hair. Roy moans and pushes his tongue inside her mouth, his body and soul remembering all the things that made her swoon in a tidal wave, making him almost feral.

He twists his tongue on hers and shivers when she whimpers softly. Fuck, he missed her.

Jason draws lazy circles in her waist, making her mind dizzy, not being able to process all at once, but she leans into his touch, wanting more from him. And he gives, pressing his body against hers and kissing down her neck, making her mewl and letting Roy swallow every sound that she makes.

Roy breaks the kiss, his lips red and swollen, looking down at her with a fire burning in his green eyes; “Turn around, pookie, and Kiss Jay” with his hand around her neck he turns her around, making her face a very horny Jason. No, he is actually going insane. If she doesn’t kiss him, he might never recover from the rejection.

“Yes” she whispers, her hands going to his hair and bringing his mouth to hers, whimpering when his lips touch hers. Jason relaxes and grips her waist tightly, his tongue twisting around hers in a erotic way, making him hard and wanting.

They break apart and she says, in a rushed voice: “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting this, wanting you, wanting Roy” she kisses his cheek and Jason feels warth at this chest, his heart at ease. She turns around and kisses Roy’s cheek and he smiles, some of his anger disappearing.

“We need you, sweets” Jason says, his voice hoarse with want and his hands are shaking a little bit when he grips her hair and pulls, eliciting a choked sound from her, Y/N’s eyes rolling to the back of her head and her breathing heavy. Roy kisses down her neck and she feels so good with them lavishig her. Jason kisses her face and makes her giggle and Roy pinches her side.

“Don’t you dare fucking leave” he moves up and Jason lets go of her hair, letting Roy grab her neck once more, “Not letting you go again, ever, you belong to us now, pookie”

Jason can be possessive, he is aware of his own actions but when Roy gets in a mood, he can be so much worse and right now, he can see in Roy’s eyes that the red head is feeling really possessive.

“Okay” she whispers, her voice low with desire.

“Now, we are going grocery shopping” And as he moved towards her like a hurricane, Roy was at the door, leaving her and Jason dumbfounded.

“Now?” Jason asks, not believing his boyfriend, “I have a hard on, Roy”

“I know, I do too” and they stare at each other, and neither of them moves, Jason’s hands are resting in Y/N hips and he sighs when his conversation with Roy over looks is done. “She needs to learn to not run away from us, Jay”

Y/N huffs, leaning against Jason's chest and crossing her arms in something very kin to a tantrum. “I don’t run away!”

“You do, actually” that’s all Jason says before he goes to the door and waits for her, Y/N can’t believe they are going grocery shopping when they just made her wet but they are, and she has to go too because they never get the right brand of shampoo and conditioner.

“That's cruel” she grabs her purse and walks to the door, feeling like an idiot and Roy giggles like a schoolgirl.

“Promise we will fuck you stupid tonight” and he kisses her cheek. Jason agrees with him and kisses her other cheek.

Y/N walks out of the apartment, with a little bit of hope to get what she wants at night, since Lian is going to spend the weekend with Dick and his daughter Mary.

She truly hopes they fulfill their promise.

…

Grocery shopping was torture and work was a full session of desperation. Y/N can’t wait to get home, she feels restless and she wishes that the bus moves faster. They are home waiting for her and all she wants is to kiss them and touch their skin.

When she gets out of the bus, she sprints to their building and gets into the elevator, pushing the button to their floor.

The door opens and, as usual, Roy is waiting for her at the door with a smile. She once again sprints and throws her arms around him, kissing him hard.

“Missed you” she says softly, tangling her hands on his hair and making him laugh.

“Fuck, this is good” he holds her by her hips and kisses her back “Is soo good to have you”

They smile to eche other and get inside, were Jason waits for them on the couch, cleaning his guns. When he looks up, automatically he drops his things on the table and waits for her next move. Y/N doesn’t think at all, throws herself at his lap and kisses him with the same want that she kissed Roy.

“Missed you” she tells him and smiles. Jason finally feels complete.

They walk around the promise from earlier. They’ve showered and are in pajamas, just waiting to see who makes the first move. They are in the main bedroom watching a movie and Jason can’t wait anymore.

He kisses her, pressing her body against the mattress and enjoying her little surprised sound. His hands roam her body and he feels like a teenager that never had sex before; He needs her, he needs Roy.

When he feels Roys hands on him, he completely melts; Roy grabs him by the back of his neck and breaks their kiss, just to turn Jason’s head towards his and kiss the brunette with want. This time, Y/N doesn’t look away, she stares and whimpers, loving the view.

Roy turns to her and kisses her as well, loving the contrast between kissing her pliant mouth and kissing Jason’s demanding one.

They kiss and touch each other, moaning and whispering praises to each other. Y/N feels her skin on fire every time they kiss her or when she touches them. Jason practically reaps her shirt off and he leans, kissing her right breast with want. He kisses, licks and bites softly, adoring the feeling of her on his mouth. Roy moans and goes for her other breast, making her scream with pleasure, her body not used to having so much attention at the same time.

They meet in the middle of her skin and kiss, making wet sounds that drives her crazy.

They move around and undress, kissing more and more. Wandering hands exploring new places.

Roy’s fingers find her clit and he smiles, playing with the bundle of nerves with expertise. Against Jason's lips, she moans, stopping her movements on his cock. Jason twists her hair in his fingers and clicks his tongue at her, and she can’t stop thinking how hot he looks right now.

“Don’t stop, sweets, or Roy won’t let you come” she whines but moves her hand again, eliciting a broken moan from Jason. He closes his eyes, lost in the feeling.

Roy kisses him and he feels like he could die again and this time he would die happy.

Jason moves away from them, making both whine in reprimand. But he pushes Y/N back into the mattress and grabs Roy to go down with him. Laying in their bellies, they settle between her legs and smile to each other, eating her out together.

She moans loudly, not expecting this but loving it anyway. She feels like her soul might just leave her body when Jason puts a finger inside her, his tongue on her clit alongside Roy’s.

Her vision blurs and she can’t hear anything when her orgasm hits her, making her body spasm. Both men smile, eating her out with more vigor and Jason’s finger moving faster. She grabs their hairs and tries to move them out, eventually they do, kissing her body and taking turns kissing her.

“I want to feel you” she says, mind in a haze, “both of you”

“At the same time, pookie?” She agrees, not thinking much about Roy’s question but she knows she wants them.

Now;

They move around until she is sitting on Jason’s lap, kissing his neck and caressing his skin, “Fuck me, Jace, please” she bags and he groans, not being able to deny her. So he moves his cock until he is pushing inside of her, their bodies connecting perfectly.

He fucks her in a slow pace, letting her get used to and when she starts to moan more Roy moves, grabbing her asscheeks and moving them from his line of vision, opening more of her legs, showing all of her to him. He growls, watching Jason’s cock move in and out of their girl.

“Ready, sweets? Roy is going to push inside” Jason says and she nods, wanting to feel full, full of them, of her men. Roy fists his cock and Jason stops his movements, letting Roy push inside her pussy.

She whines, hides her face on Jason’s chest and wiggles a little. “Fuck, pookie, don’t move yet” Roy groans and pushes inside more, until they are both inside of her pussy, feeling her and each other.

“Fuck” Jason growls, leaving marks of his hand on her thighs. Roy nods, agreeing with the feeling but not being able to form coherent words.

“Move, please” she bags in a broken voice, trying to move her hips up and down but not being able to.

They start moving, when one pushes inside the other pushes out and they fall into a delicious rhythm, where soon they are coming. Panting and moaning, Y/N comes and gets jelly, Jason comes soon after and so does Roy.

They move around again, but this time to cuddle.

After a while, Roy says: “I hope this means you are our girlfriend now”

Y/N laughs, not believing his audacity; “Not even going to ask me out?”

Jason kisses the crown of her hair and smiles, just to ask in a sarcastic voice “want to go out on a date with us?”

“Yes” she doesn’t even need to think, and she only asked for the date to pick on them.

“Good but you must know that after the date, you are our girlfriend” Roy says, hugin her closer to his body and moving his hands to rest on Jason’s hips.

They go out a week later. Two months in, they are officially dating because Y/N made them ask and one year forward, they are marrying each other in Bruce’s garden.

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sassydefendorflower · 2 years

Text

People love to compare Roy and Bradley or Ling and Wrath, but I think there is a special beauty in the narrative parallels between Riza and Winry.

Because these woman manage to break out of the Shounen mold in a way that reaches beyond the Strong Female Character trope and quickly secures itself as... good character writing. Period.

And they do so in a very clever way. Someone else on here once pointed out that Hughes/Mustang/Hawkeye are the trio that runs parallel to Ed/Al/Winry and while they aren't narrative foils to each other - at least not in the way many of the other characters are - they do present a similar function within the story. The three young people who went on an adventure. Only Hughes died and Riza and Roy were permanently altered - and Ed, Al, and Winry got a chance to save the world.

But especially when it comes to Riza and Winry there is something more to the comparison. Especially when it comes down to the choices they made.

But why are Riza and Winry more interesting?

Because when Roy recruits Ed and Al, Riza tells Winry that she followed Roy into the military because she had someone to protect - and this - in other stories - would clearly be a setup for Winry later following Ed and Al into the military to "protect" them. A direct parallel between the two "girls" in a Shounen trio. We've all seen it before.

And I think we see Winry play with that thought when she sticks around Central with them after her first apprenticeship in Rush Valley - she tries to be the third girl to Ed and Al's action duo… but it doesn't work out.

She - strong, clever, genius, confidant Winry Rockbell - suddenly feels weak. Because she can't punch danger away from Ed. She can't repair Al's scratches and dents. She can't kill Scar to save her friends and avenge her family. She can't learn how to shoot and kill just to protect her friends - no, that's not quite correct, is it? She won't. She won't learn how to kill.

And that sucks. Because Winry isn't used to feeling like that, so lost and insecure, at least not constantly. Yeah, when Ed and Al are away, she worries, and that's part of the reason why she tried to join in, but that is nothing compared to the powerlessness she's facing now. Maybe she would worry less if she could be there when they fight, if she could protect them like Riza does with Mustang… but that's just not who she is.

Her job isn't to protect Ed and Al - her job is to give people arms and legs and good costumer service. I really like that scene/episode (23, me thinks) where she gets a phone call from Rush Valley and all these people ask for her to come back. Because Yes, Ed telling her thanks for helping him is VERY important for her character… and yet I think this phone call is the moment Winry realizes that she's not Riza. That she won't take a gun into her hands and kill for Ed and Al.

She will never be Armstrong or Hawkeye or even Izumi… she will be Winry Rockbell, automail engineer and genius.

And that's the reason why only she could have pulled Scar on their side. Because she chose healing over killing - her telling Scar in Baschool that she'd save his life because her parents would want her to honor their choice? That was Winry following the deeper themes of the show, by adding positive energy to the flow of the universe.

Riza saving Scar? Wouldn't have worked (why would he listen to the woman with a gun in her hands?). Armstrong helping Scar? Wouldn't have happened (what reason would General Armstrong have at this point to spare a murderer?). Mei saving Scar? Would have ended with the Ed/Marcoh/Scar/Al alliance falling apart (it is so much easier to fall apart if no one has been forced to see past the horror yet).

And it's not because these characters were even a touch less well written than Winry - if anything it showcases how unique all of the female characters in FMA were/are.

In this we find Riza again - because Riza chose differently than Winry. She followed Roy into the military, she learned and perfected how to shoot and kill. Their narratives mirror each other - Ed carefully prying a gun out of Winry's hands so she doesn't kill, only to give Riza a bloody gun a few episodes later, knowing she will clean it and use it to kill.

When Riza tells us that she has lost the right to feel squeamish about killing because of often she'd pulled the trigger, she is Winry's foil - Winry who was stopped before she could make a similar choice.

And it's not just that, is it?

Riza let her hair grow because a young Winry Rockbell had long hair and seemed to like it - and Riza needed a change after coming back from Ishval.

Winry got her ears pierced because the strong Lieutenant visiting them had looked cool (and because she needed a place for all of Ed's little gifts) - and Winry needed something steadfast, now that her friends were growing up.

There's just something about the two of them, so similar, so loyal and stubborn and full of love, that fascinates me. Because at every turn they make a different choice, at each turn one walks deeper into hell and the other chooses healing - and yet, while they couldn't be more different, they also couldn't be any closer.

I can't imagine how glad Riza was, when she realized Winry hadn't followed Ed and Al into the military.

I can only guess how happy Winry was, when she saw Riza follow Mustang further if only to make sure the future actually changed.

A mirror doesn't have to be a perfect thing, and if anything I think that is on purpose.

#fma #winry rockbell #riza hawkeye #fma meta #edward elric #roy mustang #royai #fullmetal alchemist #fullmetal alchemist brotherhood #fmab #a meta for the girls #because so much of the meta analysis i see about them #boils down to Strong Female Character #and i think we can do better than that #so lets talk about parallels

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satoruin · 2 years

Text

➣ not-so-secret late night rendezvous

pairing: malleus draconia x gn!mc

word count: 3K

summary: while the vdc group stays over at ramshackle, they notice you have a frequent visitor

notes from lee: i’m rusty with long pieces so i hope this is okay ish? takes place during book 5 when the vdc group is staying at the ramshackle dorm but i haven’t read book 5 since it released so it’s not entirely canon compliant… also way more ace-centric than i realized oops i love adeuce

You had abandoned the hope of falling asleep easily once Crowely oh-so graciously allowed the newly formed VDC group to take up temporary residence in Ramshackle. When either or both Ace and Deuce stayed over you could deal with their moderate snores, however, snoring amplified by the seven extra people staying in your dorm was disrupting to say the least.

Despite all the boys being the next room over, the snoring seeps through the rotting wood floors and poorly constructed walls.

In hopes of trying to tire yourself out, you decide on a midnight stroll. Something that has been a recurring event even before your visitors. And maybe you have an inkling of hope that there will be another visitor when you get outside.

You feel the need to be quiet and sneak out, hopeful to not incur the wrath of Vil despite you being the dorm leader of Ramshackle. The window in your room has provided many nights of escapes, but it still takes an effort to push it open enough for you to get out. It only takes a few steps across the patchy roof before reaching the fire ladder. When your feet hit the ground you can already see the green fireflies that swarm the area and it instantly puts a smile on your face.

If the others within the dorm were not up earlier from the scolding Vil had given them, they were more than awake at the footsteps on the roof. Of course, it could have been passed off as the ghosts, but the creak of the rusty ladder gives you away to those inside the house. A quick check into your bedroom proves that it’s you out of the dorm and not one of the VDC members. Vil is largely unconcerned, you are just a manager after all not a performing member, that is until Trappola calls out from the bottom floor.

“Oi! What’s Malleus Draconia doing outside?” Now this peaks Vil and the others upstairs’ interest. Already pressed to the glass window in the seating room are Ace and Deuce, the others join shortly.

“What is this fuss about Draconia being outside?” VIl questions and the redhead shivers at the tone of voice he uses. Instead of answering anything, Ace points outside to where you stand animatedly talking to the prince of Briar Valley. Everyone just now coming to witness the scene outside the window reacts similarly, shock. All inside the house knew of Draconia’s reputation, but there you were chatting away with him like an old friend.

Despite the seemingly friendly conversation between you and the fae, the way Malleus looked fondly down at you did not escape the watchful eyes of the Rook, “Quelle beauté! The love between the Roi des Dragons and the Trickster is blooming right before our eyes!”

The three first-years mashed into the glass pane let out a simultaneous groan. “How come the Prefect didn’t tell us they got into a relationship!” “Bleh who even wants to be in a relationship?” And similar remarks left the boys’ mouth, but soon quieted when they watched as you started back towards the dorm. Their blabbing had cost all of the bystanders to lose track of Malleus who had seemingly left.

“Back to the room. Not a word of this to the Prefect. It is up to them to tell us about their relationship, not your incessant meddling.” Vil sternly ordered and the boys trudged up the creaking stairs before you came back.

Despite what Vil may have told Ace and Deuce about not meddling, you were their friend! If anyone would be allowed to meddle it would be your best friends, no? At least that’s what Ace had convinced himself of and later Deuce despite his reluctance.

They have a momentary break in the grueling practice and that’s when Ace decides to pry. You sit near the sweaty boys and offer up bottles of water, but it feels mostly like moral support. “So Prefect, you’ve been here for quite a while now, so’s there someone you're crushing on?” Ace asks, trying to be nonchalant.

“Is this some roundabout way for me to ask you if there’s someone you like?” You laugh at the red-head when he turns as red as his hair in embarrassment. “I take that as a yes?”

“No!” He waves his hands and you laugh at him again. “What’s wrong with your best friends wanting to know something like that?” Ace nudged Deuce, making him the accomplice to this encounter.

Before Deuce can protest, the two of them are yanked up by their collars. “If the two of you have energy to move your mouths, I’m sure you have the energy to continue practice.”

You laugh at Ace once again and shout a wish of good luck at him and the innocent Deuce.

After the catastrophic failure of the afternoon, Ace decides to take a different route: asking Grim. Once again he makes an assumption that if anyone would know about your relationship it would be your friend (though Ace is unsure if Grim counts as a friend or a pet).

The cat-like creature seems to be asleep at the moment, but Ace’s curiosity is strong enough to be the one killed by the cat. He pokes Grim and he yawns. “Whatcha want that you needed ta wake the Great Grim up?”

“You know the Prefect better than anyone right?” Ace asked tentatively.

Grim rolls over, trying to get comfortable once again before answering, “Just ask my henchman yourself, there’s no need to bother me.”

Ace rolls his eyes but presses on, “Well if it’s your henchman you should know if something in their personal life would affect them serving you, yeah?”

Grim rolls over to face Ace once again, “What could they be doin except being my henchman?”

“Oh well, I heard something about them dating Malleus Draconia, but if it hasn’t been affecting anything then it’s probably not worth talking about.” Ace shrugs, but he knows that Grim is interested in helping him now. At least he thought so, but Grim fails to respond and Ace is met with soft snores.

Ace groans, yet another plan of his: failed.

You crawl into bed, hopeful that maybe tonight you can rest. Grim follows suit and snuggles up next to you. He talks to you about the homework and other classes from the day and it’s not unusual. After a period of silence, “You won’t stop being my henchmen, right?”

You ruffle the fur on Grims head and laugh softly, “What gave you that idea? We’re two halves of a whole, literally.”

Grim exclaims and moves away from the hand that pets him, “I knew you would never leave such a great mage such as myself! Ace told me about some dragon and I didn’t want you to think that you were able to have a new master.” He returns to your side and curls up next to you to fall asleep and says nothing, leaving you confused but you brush it off.

Even though Vil had scolded Ace about staying up not long ago, he still dragged himself and Deuce down to the window where they watched you and Malleus meet. It’s been maybe a week since they last saw your rendezvous with the fae, but Ace is determined to make sure it was really.

Deuce yawns from behind him, “Maybe they aren’t in a relationship? It’s ok for them to just be friends…” Deuce’s head clanks against the window as he tries to go back to sleep.

“But the Prefect always wakes up happier when they’ve seen Draconia the night before! And don’t you remember the first night when Rook was here and he said somethin’ about the two being in love?!”

“It’s not that big of a deal is it? Just let the prefect tell us if or when they want. You’re so obsessed over this like you’re in love with the Prefect or something.” The sleepy boy mutters, but Ace picks up on it.

He laughs haughtily, “Like I would be in love with a pathetic person with no magic.” His tone quickly softens as he voices his real concerns, “I just worry about them ya know? Draconia is a scary dude and I wouldn’t want the Prefect to get hurt. Not because I care about them or anything, but because then I wouldn’t have a place to stay when Riddle kicks me out.”

Ace looks out the window for any signs of you but the field in front of the house is empty. He sighs and drags Deuce up the stairs with him.

Green fireflies fill your gaze and your hairs stand on edge at the powerful magic in the air. Despite the odd feeling you can’t help but smile when Tsunotaro appears.

With the VDC competition just around the corner, Vil had given you tickets but as you would be on the side stage you had no use for them. And the only person, well fae, you could think to give them to was Tsunotaro.

“Child of Man, it is always a delight to see you.” He cups your cheek gently.

Despite feeling a little flustered, you continue with what you wanted to say and fish the tickets out of your pocket, unintentionally breaking his hand off. “Vil gave me tickets for the VDC but I don’t have any use for them so I thought I would give them to you! I won’t be the one on stage but I’d still really appreciate it if you came to watch what I helped put together.” You flash a lopsided grin at the fae and hold out the ticket to him.

His eyes widened in shock. “You wish to invite me to this?” You nod earnestly and he laughs. “Perhaps it is because you are not of this world, but you are certainly naive, little one. Very well, but I will need to find an adequate way to pay you back.”

“Oh! That’s not necessary!” You’re about to ramble but Tsunotaro interrupts you with a kiss on the forehead.

“I will have to teach you the rules of the fae soon, Child of Man. But for now, let us go observe the gargoyle on the south grounds together.” He tucks the ticket into his pocket carefully and holds his hand out to you. You take it and he intertwines your fingers easily.

The night before the VDC it seems no one is able to sleep. Crowded around the window are all seven members of the squad, watching as you converse, yet again, with Malleus.

Watching the two of you has become somewhat of a pastime in the time the group has spent in Ramshackle.

But all of them are growing increasingly frustrated at the way both of you seem to skirt around your feelings. Of course, they have no way of knowing what is actually going on as they can’t hear you, but your body language is enough. Plus all the times you’ve woken up and come into practice with a silly lovesick smile is pretty telling.

“He’s standin’ so close to them! Can he just bend over and kiss ‘em?” “It’s absolutely nauseating seeing Draconia like this, doe-eyed for our Manager.” “Do you think the Prefect invited him to the competition tomorrow?”

The boys quiet at the mention of the competition. The whole reason for coming down to peek into your rendezvous with Malleus was to distract themselves from the impending nerves.

Vil is the one to break the anxiety ridden air and ushers all of them up to the room and in good timing too. The door creaks as you come back inside the dorm. Everyone in the dorm is plagued with emotions, good or bad, that make it seemingly impossible to fall asleep.

The day of the VDC comes and everything goes awry at Vil’s overblot. Though it is not your first overblot, being magic-less during it really takes a toll on you. You hate being useless during these times, there’s nothing you can do besides offer moral support, de-escalating the situation after, and a shoulder to cry on.

The adrenaline fades away and the boys collapse on the broken stage. Their heaving breaths are audible and their body language tells you of their exhaustion. You’re not exactly sure what to do, but the presence of powerful yet familiar magic washes over you.

You whip your head around to see the horned fae and you want to run up to him, but you’re just as tired as everyone else plus a little lightheaded from the poisonous air. Instead you simply call out to him, “Tsunotaro! What’re you doing here so early?”

It’s as if everyone sitting in the rubble has regained energy as they all repeat your pet name for the fae, but much louder. Though it’s not a shock that you know him, they’ve all witnessed your late night trysts, but for you to call him ‘Tsunotaro’ instead of something more respectable is… surprising.

Grim’s eyes light up with recognition at the nickname. “This is the ‘Tsunotaro’ ya were fawnin’ over? The nickname makes sense since he does have those horns growin’ out of his head but…” Grim trails off and you’re thankful he shut up. You didn’t need Tsunotaro to hear about your crush on him.

Thankfully he’s grabbed by Deuce so you don’t have to shut the cat up yourself. “Grim, you need to respect your elders,” Deuce scolds through a forced smile.

“It seems I’ve arrived a bit early. Though I’m unaware of how you all expect to perform on a ruined stage.” His tone is a bit teasing and it’s groundbreaking for all that have regarded Malleus as scary. And for those that have interacted with him, it’s weird to hear him talk so tenderly.

“Oh, well you see… there was kind of an overblot.” You smile at him, as if the overblot was not a traumatic experience you and the others barely survived.

Malleus’s eyes widen, “I did not sense an abnormality of magic, nor did anyone else for that matter. I’m pleased to see that you are all okay though.”

He looks around the stadium to assess the damage. “I suppose this counts as my payback for your invite, little one.” He pats your head gently and smiles down at you. The overwhelming sense of power washes over you and sparks seem to fly out of Malleus’s hand. In an instant the previously damaged stage is restored.

“Woah,” you breathe out softly. You look at him with stars in your eyes. You’re still unaccustomed to such flashy magic or really magic at all. The others behind you, while admiring Draconia’s handiwork, are completely astonished, and maybe a little frightened, by the enormous gap in skill.

“Please, such magic is child’s play for a mage of my caliber.” He responds to your praise. Coming from anyone else it would sound arrogant, but as one of the top mages in all of Twisted Wonderland, it was deserved. “I’ll return when the competition draws closer. I expect to be enthralled by your performance, after all it is due to the effort of Schoenheit you have gotten this far.”

The fae walks over to you where you sit and crouches down. He reaches his hand out towards your face but stops just short, hovering and hesitating. Malleus resigns and ends up dropping his hand back to his side all together. You don’t voice your disappointment, but the others do.

There’s a collective groan that’s quick to catch the attention of both you and Malleus. Ace is a myriad of stupid, hence he is the one to speak up out of all the members, “Great Sevens! Are ya shy? The Prefect clearly wants you to kiss them and everyone can tell you want that too so just do it! We watch the two of you meet up practically every night and every single night you chicken out.” Ace sighs, but quickly realizes. “Uh, I mean this in the most respectful way, Mr. Draconia, sir, highness?”

You’re embarrassed, was it really so easy to read your disappointment? But more importantly, “What do you mean by ‘we’? Are you telling me everyone that’s stayed in the dorm has watched me and Tsunotaro hangout?”

You look at them expectantly and see them nod. Jamil scoffs though, “You call that a hangout? It’s without a doubt a date.”

“I didn’t want to assume…” you trail off. You turn your head to look at anywhere but Malleus, embarrassed and a little flustered. It seems like the universe is intent on letting the prince know exactly how you feel.

The boy in question places a hand on your knee to turn your attention to him. “Were you not aware that I am courting you? I thought I made it fairly obvious.” He seems confused but his words have that teasing lilt that seems to become apparent when talking to you.

“Courting is like dating right?” You ask, cocking your head to the side. You hear another collective groan, but it seems Malleus is as clueless as you are.

“Is that what they call it these days?” The fae mirrors your expression. Perhaps this is why the two of you seem to be perfect for each other.

“Please talk about your relationship status later. We need the Prefect for rehearsals.” Vil tells his classmate impatiently. Though he is quite pleased with the events that have unfolded, nights spent at the window watching you two was not a waste after all.

Malleus kisses you swiftly, having made up his mind due to the words from the others. It takes all you have not to grab him by the lapels and keep his lips glued to your own. But having your first kiss with Malleus in front of your friends is enough to remind you to practice self-restraint.

He smiles at you softly, “I will see you later, darling.” He swipes at his uniform, ridding it of any debris and takes his leave after giving you a quick peck. You stare after Malleus longingly before Vil claps his hands.

“As lovely as that was, we have a championship to win.”

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mllersjoel · 7 months

Text

you're obsessed

Pairing: Jamie Tartt x fem!actress!reader

Warnings: swearing, no use of y/n

Summary: jamie tartt fic where he has a huge crush on an actress and sees her at a richmond event and she flirts w him he’s really shy bc he likes her but they hook up after idk

Wordcount: 1.6k

A/N: didnt manage to write any smut bc this was getting way too long teehee :D general warnings for swearing.

writing comms are open!

“Oi, Tartt! Stop stalking your actress and give me some laps,” Roy yells, shaking Jamie from his reverie. Jamie is not stalking her instagram. He’s just not; because a stalker would have notifications on as they obsessively checked their profile at least four times every minute. Jamie is only checking once every five minutes, and he doesn’t even have her notifications on. So there. Suck it, Roy.

“Fine, don’t give yourself an aneurysm,” he mutters, taking a quick minute to stretch before he’s running around the pitch. He just has a crush. That’s all. A little one. He first saw you in some thriller that came out last month, and something about you had him hooked. Initially he thought it was just the character you played, a regular yet charming civilian, pulled into the crime world. After watching (admittedly, way too many) interviews, he realised it wasn’t the character. It was you.

You with your witty remarks and comments. The way you laughed good naturedly and poked fun at your costars. The way you were clumsy and scatterbrained, in a terribly endearing way.

It didn’t help that you were also gorgeous.

So, yeah. Jamie had a slight crush. It was fine, though, because you were currently based in Los Angeles (you were in a new Marvel movie) and had no plans of coming to the UK anytime soon.

“She’s right fit, though,” Isaac says, nudging Jamie as he runs past.

Jamie feels his stomach tighten with jealousy before he catches himself. Why was he jealous? He didn’t know you and you probably didn’t even know he existed. Well, maybe you did, because he was sexy and a hot football player. Did you even watch football? Would you watch it if you knew he was in it?

Jamie remembers hearing something about a parasocial relationship from Keeley and resolves to not think about you.

At least while he was training.

***

He’s spraying on cologne in the locker room when Keeley bursts in, all smiles and pep.

“Oh. My. Fucking. God!”

“Is everything alright?” Ted asks, breaking away from Coach Beard who as far as Jamie could tell, hasn’t said anything but is managing to have a full conversation with Ted.

“You will not believe who I booked for this years’ Gala!”

Roy’s ears perk up at this as he slides into the conversation. “The Muppets?”

“No, Roy,” Keeley says, exasperated, “not the fucking Muppets. Only the hottest new actress on screen right now!”

At this point, all the boys have gathered around Keeley, jostling each other and trying to see the screen of her phone. Jamie fights his way to the front, and when his eyes focus on Keeley’s phone, he’s pretty sure his heart drops into his stomach.

It was you. There. With your smile and your eyes and your name and a headline.

You were coming to their Gala.

You.

He feels his heart drop into his stomach. This couldn’t be real. Maybe it was a mistype, or someone accidentally said they scheduled you but in reality you were on the other side of the globe. It was faked. It had to be.

He broke away from his team, practically running back to the changing rooms. Opening up your instagram, he pulled up your story. There, you had reposted the announcement.

Oh. Oh fuck.

***

On the day of the Gala, Jamie seriously considers hiring a stylist rather than just going with his gut. He needs to look good. Tonight is most probably one of the most important days of his life. His favourite actress, coming to his club’s Gala. Maybe, if he plays his cards right, you’ll bid on him.

Wait. Who was he kidding? He’s Jamie fucking Tartt. Of course you’ll bid on him. He could wear a trash bag and you’d bid on him, because he is just that fucking sexy.

Right?

He shoots a quick text to Keeley, desperate for a second opinion.

Me:

[image0.png]

thoughts? Xx

Keeley:

Ur hot babes!!

Gonna knock em dead xx

Lose the tie u look like a prick <3

He takes one last look in the mirror, running his hands through his hair. Yeah. He’s gonna show up and be so cool. He’s so cool.

***

They’re taking pictures on the carpet, and everyone can tell Jamie is not all there. He barely tells the paparazzi to take pictures of his good side, following it up with “And that’s any side.” His eyes keep darting around, every scream and shout of delight sending his stomach in knots in case you’re the one to step out of the limousine.

Maybe you just won’t show up. Maybe you were already inside.

He can’t decide which option is worse.

When he’s at the end of the carpet, about to head inside, he hears whistles and screams, different from the ones before. These sound a lot more excited, filled with more adrenaline and anticipation. Or maybe he’s just projecting.

He turns, and sure enough, you’re there.

Stunning. That’s the only thing he can think of. You smile beautifully at the photographers, working the crowd with ease. It was as if you were friends, had a solid rapport with them with the way you were conversing back and forth.

“Close your mouth. You look like a fucking basking shark,” Roy says, elbowing Jamie in the stomach.

He flinches back, giving Roy a shove in return. “Oi, what was that for?”

“You’re not gonna make a good impression with you gawking like a fucking idiot. Go say hi or something. Be fucking normal.”

Jamie sends Roy an affronted look. “I am normal, you old bastard. Just because we don’t act like how you did in the 1800s doesn’t mean I’m being an idiot.”

Roy just growls, shoving past him into the building.

Jamie takes a step forward to follow when a voice catches his attention.

“Hey! You’re Jamie Tartt, right?”

He turns on instinct, a winning smile already plastered on his face. “I’ll do autographs once—you.”

You raise your eyebrows slightly, waiting for him to go on. “Once I what?”

“You’re, um, you’re her.” He says your name, almost reverently.

Your grin widens, almost giddy. “You know who I am?”

“I follow you—” before he could say more, your manager rushes in behind you, ushering you inside. You wince at him, apologetic, before heading inside.

Jamie stands there, dumbfounded.

I follow you? That’s what he had to say? Now he really does sound like a stalker. He scrubs his hand over his face, groaning in disappointment.

He’s gonna make it up to you. He has to.

***

Inside, he sees he’s sat with Ted and Roy as well as a few other people and an empty seat next to him. He largely ignores his own table, trying to catch sight of you and not succeeding in the slightest. He huffs a sigh of annoyance, sliding into his seat.

Ted notices his glum aura, nodding sagely. “It’s the oysters, isn’t it? Because I know they have to try to make the flavour appeal to everyone but adding this much lemon is just downright insultin’.”

“It’s not the oysters, coach.”

Ted frowns. “The placemats? I was never really an eggshell white person myself but—”

“Jamie’s pining over an actress he thinks I don’t see him stalk on insta when he’s supposed to be running drills,” Roy cuts in, tired of Ted’s guessing.

“I’m not pining,” Jamie pouts, crossing his arms in a decidedly not childish way.

Before Roy could get another rebuttal out, the seat next to him is being filled, and once again he sees you, smiling at him. “Actresses are overrated,” you say, placing your napkin over your lap, “trust me.”

Jamie’s blood runs cold, convinced the universe is playing a cruel trick on him. Running into you is an absolute dream, he’d never deny that, but running into you with both Ted and Roy there? He may as well be taken out back and shot.

He must’ve been sitting there agape for too long, because before he knows it, Ted is reaching a hand over and giving yours a shake.

“Ted Lasso, it’s a pleasure to meet ya’. I absolutely loved you in that thriller that came out last June. Had me on the edge of my couch! And I know Jamie here liked it as well, he was bawling a right mess by the end of it.”

You turn to look at Jamie, and having the full force of your attention on him made him nearly choke on air. “Were you really?”

Jamie licks his lips, trying to gain some composure. “Bawling is sayin’ a lot, really. More like a reasonable cry.”

You nod along, clearly not buying it.

“I’ve been keeping up with your games this season. The goal you scored against West Ham the other day was seriously impressive. You were practically miles away from the net.”

Immediately, Jamie perked up. “You like football?”

“Well, I’m no expert, but I definitely try to watch all your games if I can.”

Jamie leans in, feeling bold and taking your hand in his. “Richmonds games? Or my games?”

You shrug. “Depends on the hair.”

He laughs, leaning back in his chair, body turned towards you. Maybe tonight won’t be so bad after all.

#ari speaks #ari writes #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt x y/n #ted lasso #jamie tartt fanfiction

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onceuponaoneshotfanfic · 11 months

Text

It's Flawless, Really Something

Roy Kent x Teacher!Reader

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

2.6k words

Teach Me Tonight Masterlist

“Did you save me that biscuit?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uncle Roy, you should try!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oi.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Roy growled at you, a playful, sexy sound.

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

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

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dairy-farmer · 5 months

Note

Titans always liked to party. Even when everyone started their own lives, barely seeing each other, they always found time to throw a party once in awhile.

This party was the biggest one yet. After one of the massive threats to the universe was dealt with, some of the JL members stayed, almost all of the Titans and even the Outlaws. Dancing, games, chatting... After a few hours, there were only a small group left: bachelors, who wanted to get drunk. Hal didn't really care about an age gap, everyone left were adults. Dick was always game. Roy wanted Jason to let loose, so they both stayed.

At some point they started playing Truth or Dare, but they figured out fast that they were too drunk for any action, that's why only truth was left on the table. Questions soon turned into only sex relating. The most adventurous time. Just the best fuck. Best blowjob. Until one of them mentioned Tim's name. That's when they figured out, that all of them had sex with Tim and that all the best times they were talking about were with him.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!! yesss!!! they're all heavily buzzed and are slurring their speeches, too drunk to even think of getting up from where they're sprawled over the floor on cushions, couches, and assorted arm chairs. there are occasional bursts of giggles, some rolled eyes from hal and jason over the other two giggling like school girls over something. but its not like any of them have anywhere to be. no girlfriends, wives, or children expecting them home. and also being drunk and alone is sort of pathetic so at least together they're socializing and having a nice time while occasionally forcing one another to do humiliating shit until it's late and they're tired and have decided to just keep getting 'truth' out of each other while they wind down from the party and enjoy the company of each other and pretend they're not nearly as drunk as they feel.

dick is failing at it the worst and is nursing a trashcan in his lap while seated criss cross apple sauce on the floor. hal has managed to claim the entire length of the couch and has his head rested on one arm rest and ankles crossed on the other. roy is slouched with his elbows on his knees on a chair and drinking a slowly melting slurpy because he'd volunteered for a 7/11 run. jason has an icepack over his eyes and a can of ginger ale in one hand and pretending they're not all there while he...batmeditates the drunkness away.

things are civil and friendly, occasionally they all share a laugh at someone else's expense while plying truths out of each other. there's an unspoken brotherhood in bachelorhood that makes being open and honest while wasted so much easier and so much more...freeing. they don't have to worry about judgement, about hurting someone's feelings. when among kin you can finally admit that sure that girl you dated on and off for years kind of sucked at giving head and that the best blowjob of your life was at an executive's christmas party while out on the terrace of some hotel.

roy sighs about the sweetest tits he'd ever seen being on someone he had no business hooking up with.

hal commiserates with him admitting that despite his playboy ways, the best fuck of his life had been this barely legal little thing that he'd been waiting to get his hands on since they were sixteen and that hal also would have risked losing his balls if anyone in the league ever found out about it.

jason, from under his icepack, grunts out about how his sweet little pocket pussy had let him put the mouth of his fully loaded favorite gun into his fucked out little hole that was dripping with jason's mess.

hal gives an impressed whistle and jason lets out an, honest to god, wistful sigh about how he should've put a fucking ring on it.

they all give a shared shudder at that though. if there's one thing they all understand its that none of them are...husband material.

still that doesn't mean there aren't...longings for the position and its associated benefits.

dick gives a miserable groan into his trashcan and a wet gag where nothing comes up before miserably sniffling and asking them if they thought that tim would mind dick sabotaging his birth control so he'd have dick's baby so dick could have his not so secret desire to be a daddy to more than just the goldfish in his apartment.

and it's the mention of tim that sends them all back into their drunken reminiscing and bragging about conquests and the mental all stars roster they each have regarding their hookups.

of which tim seems to be the mvp of.

it's not shocking, not to them. if others had been in the room they probably would've been surprised that the most prude robin actually wasn't all that chaste. but they all knew exactly what tim did in his spare time (them). the only part that's surprising is finding out that they all have become intimately familiar the hot tight little cunt that milked their cocks like it was handmade by god to do it.

it's not long until that's all they're talking about.

hal closing his eyes and moaning about how cute and pink tim's tits were when they bounced as he rode him. jason about how tim was so obedient, letting him bend him all sorts of ways and positions and being such a champ and letting jason keep going even when he was passing out from exhaustion. dick is fully laid on the floor and mumbling about how nice and cold the hardwood is while talking about how tim's mouth always looked so cute stretched around his cock-that he didn't even have a gag reflex. roy is shamelessly hard on his chair and talking about how its a shame tim doesn't cross paths with him more often that roy would've loved a repeat, that jason and dick were fortunate to share a home with tim.

"i bet you've gotten some great pics" roy sighs.

and that's when the other three freeze for a moment because...pics?

and that's when roy shows them his phone where tim has sent roy pictures!!!! of tim's little hands cupping a tit in his bathroom mirror, of tim's finger pressed into his dripping baby cunt.

and hal has to fumble for the short 30 second clip in his phone of him slamming into tim and grunting as he cums as deep as he can get. jason claims tim has left countless pairs of panties in his apartment and that tim didn't let him record them fucking because he thought jason would shove it in bruce's face whenever he was angry at him (which jason absolutely would do) and dick whines about how his baby timmy never sends dick that kind of stuff!!! but would he? if dick asked would tim send him naked pictures of him in bed??

it goes without saying that tim is their favorite, the one they have the most fond memories of, the one that was their most memorable experience.

but that doesn't mean they don't all feel a bit competitive when they all text him to see who he'll respond to first.

#answered asks #asks #anonymous #haltim #dicktim #jaytim #roytim

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batfambrainrotbeloved · 2 months

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BULLYING IS THE SOLUTION!! At least to me finally fucking updating that is-

The Drakes Spoiled Brat (im sorry dad) has finally reached chapter 11, ive hyped this chapter up so much I hope it manages to live up to expectations but just know for how long it is it is crammed with information, so enjoy :)

Name: As above Rating: Teen and Up (debated and updated) Chapter: 11/?? Word count: 56,272 Relationships: Batfam + Extended DC friends/fam (now including minor past Dick/Babs and Roy/Jason) Summary: Tim dies a week before he turns 18, his only wish is that he could do it all over again. Not for himself, but for the family he failed to save from their own tragic fates.

It seems for once the universe is on his side (haha yeah right) and the past 12 years of his life are erased giving him his well desired do over.

He makes it his mission to save his family as Timothy Drake- His own asshole "Brucie Wayne" & Cardinal- His new vigilante persona/informant

Time is running out- has he done enough or are the scales of fate forever tipped against him?

LINK

MASTER POST-

#the drakes spoiled brat #trash tim au #tim drake #WERE BACK BABYYY #fic update #FINALLLYYYY #bullying works #just tbh

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garagepaperback · 4 months

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impatience

The third time he saw him, Harry sat down right in the empty, too-small seat to his left. Two previous attempts at avoidance hadn't successfully kept him away, so he figured, why not.

He yawned. It was late enough to be nearly early. "All that magic and it's just the same as waiting around at an airfield."

Draco barely looked up, mouth a firm, perfectly level line. Just before moving a whole row of chairs away, he said, "We're indoors, you knob."

He didn't really loosen up about the chat. Harry ran into him at a crunchy four in the morning, before the rusted hose nozzle that snapped him to Yellowknife, and then during the delay to the town in New Caledonia he couldn't remember the name of, and again before Fitz Roy. Every time Draco calmly assembled his little fleet of newspapers, self-important briefcase (he obviously could have shrunk it if he wanted to), and moved to the opposite side of the room as soon as Harry sat down.

And it wasn't fair. They'd made up - sort of.

At least there'd been enough smoothing over that a crowded pub night with Draco also in attendance didn't become a whole thing. Harry shook his stupid, freezing cold hand when he gave him back his wand, for Merlin's sake.

The group pubs outings themselves may have been a rarer thing recently, with Harry's job (and apparently Draco's) plucking him out of Britain often, but that didn't make it okay for Draco to have backslid into rude git territory so completely.

He told him so, and Draco said, "What's there to bother about with you?"

Which, no.

The backsliding may have inspired more backsliding. Harry didn't think of it as taunting exactly, though there were a few particularly uncomplimentary things that slipped out - it was unavoidable. Draco had a slimy job working for some sort of big finance company, something posh and soulless and perfect for him. He was always in a very expensive looking suit, the sort of fabric that looked wet.

Once, Harry made some comment about his tie, touched it in the sallow overhead light, just passing time before he's be handed over the little plastic koala figurine that was supposed to take him to the volcano in Mongolia. He reached out as he did, going for a light gestural grasp around the pale silk but Draco grabbed Harry's wrist before he could, yanked it away from himself, twisting a little.

"Don't touch me unless you want what comes after."

Which, yes.

A little too easily, Draco managed Harry's jacket off, dropping it on the floor before sinking down on top of it. It'd been about seven minutes, patience a smudge abandoned on the tile under the jacket under Draco. Kneeling. They'd both roughed each other up nicely by then with hands and grazed teeth, beard-burn, and Draco looked so pinked and wild-eyed with that neat slide of his laden tongue - it was all pulling something frantic and a little feral out of some low, poorly-lit place in Harry.

He couldn't get a grip on the sleek stall wall, barely kept himself up right and ended up missing the Port to Harere or outside of Helsinki or wherever it was supposed to have been. All the minutes spent idle and outside of himself, waiting to go somewhere were overly ripe, it turned out. Fresh, wet fruit just inside the peeled back skin.

Draco's neatly done up knot stayed in tact the whole time. He knocked Harry's hand away when he tried to touch it - the tie, and then every other part of him.

for day 19 of @microficmay

#drarry fic #drarry fanfic #microficmay2024 #drarry

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missezramay · 1 year

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ted lasso, post-finale thoughts.

I went into the finale thinking yeah, if the writing serves, I can accept any outcome even if it's not exactly what I want. Instead, I was hit with a plethora of mixed emotions I didn't expect to have. Confusion, anger, hurt, annoyance, small bursts of joy in between, and just deep sadness. Almost 20 hours later and I'm still incredibly dissatisfied and processing. For the most part, finales should provide a feeling of celebration and relief. I... don't feel any of that.

I'm just really trying to pinpoint why I'm so sad.

Of course everything inevitably has to come to an end. Of course Ted was always going to reunite with his kid. Of course it's not about winning or losing. Of course Tedbecca can remain platonic if that was always the plan. Of course that's the way life goes, but...

For a show (and this season particularly) that constantly encouraged us to 'believe' and 'hope' in the idea that 'everything will work out', all those 75 minutes did was take me on an unsettling, emotional journey for no concrete reason other than to mess with the audience (the opening scene was just adding salt in the Tedbecca wound I've had since S2). Because everything in a macro sense, "worked out". But the WAY it "worked out" does not sit well with me?? And it's supposed to? For a lot of people (on Reddit/Facebook, lol), it was enough?? Richmond not technically winning and Ted leaving like that without so much as a tear? What am I missing??

When I tell you I'm trying to embrace the good parts, I'm really trying. Yes to KBPR & the women's team, Yes to Colin kissing his fella, Yes to Rebecca & Mae & the guys owning the club, Yes to Roy becoming Manager.

So... why am I still so upset? Hmm, let's see.

The boys' musical number? The cutest. Ted didn't think so.

Nate's apology? Heartbreaking. Ted didn't bat an eyelash.

Rebecca begging twice for Ted to stay? Ted, absolute silence.

Beard staying/getting married in London to his toxic gf? Comic relief, haha, fine. Except Ted wasn't there as Best Man.

Don't even get me started on the huge disservice to the Roy/Keeley/Jamie triangle.

Now listen, I get that he misses Henry & Henry misses his dad. I'm not that cold. A father/son's love is important. It was always the catalyst for this show; for him to work on himself so he can be a better father unlike the one he grew up with. That's fine.

But on this particular week. His last week with his Richmond family. There was NO sense of him being sad to leave them. He can be sad about missing Henry but he can ALSO be sad about leaving. No, he just completely checked out. He let everyone pour out their hearts (Hannah's getting her third Emmy, mark my words) to him, and he just stone-faced the entire time.

THIS DOES NOT MAKE ANY SENSE TO ME.

The argument is that he was internally processing, he was overwhelmed, he was trying to distance himself so it would hurt less. Fair points, okay. But this is a television show, moreover, A FINALE. TV characters, while relatable, are heightened versions of ourselves, there so we can better process our emotions and learn to handle things better in our real lives. Ted deserved MORE dialogue and displaying MORE emotion than whatever this was.

We're never going to see him again. We're over here crying along with Rebecca, Nate & Beard, but he didn't sob once. Even though he spent three years building a family with them. I even thought, hey at least he left his legacy with Trent's book but newsflash, he wanted his name taken off that too! Complete erasure.

I just feel so robbed of better moments. Like there were nice moments here and there. But they could've been BETTER. Honestly, Nate & Rebecca's breakdowns were close to perfection, so much love there. But the lack of dialogue and Ted not reciprocating? Broke ME.

I just cannot. understand. this. choice.

Massive sigh. I'm just truly baffled by the way everything wrapped up and not getting the satisfied feeling that one half of the viewership got. Maybe I'm in the minority, but that means something. It carries weight. Also, for a "three-season arc" that was planned well in advance, why all the rewrites and parallels and fakeouts... it's just cruel. But as the theme says (and maybe this was a warning all along), yeah, I guess this might well be it.

This show has given us so much and the last season flailed for the most part. I don't want to disrespect the show by being negative and cynical (looks like I failed!!) or cast blame on anyone in particular. The cast/crew are amazing people and I'll be grateful for being a part of the journey but I'm just so sad and this feeling sucks and I will never get over it.

Going to miss them. x

#ted lasso #spoilers #thoughts #finale #text post #tedbecca #roykeeley #jason sudeikis #hannah waddingham

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eeveebitches · 1 year

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collared. || Roman Roy || smut

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

Word count: 2.496

18+ only! More under the cut ^^~

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

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

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

_______________________

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"So?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"H-ahh, fuck, yes please."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You were really hot, too."

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

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manias-wordcount · 1 year

Note

There do be not enough roy mustang stuff out there and i crave fluffy angst for him. All i can think of though is the "i thought you were dead hug". Probably not out in the open, given his position, but possibly as a form of love confession in private. I love your writing by the way. You're my go to for good anime fanfics.

O' Colonel, My Colonel (Roy Mustang x Reader)

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗶 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆 𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗵𝗶𝗺 𝘀𝗼 𝘀𝗮𝗱 𝘀𝗺𝗵 𝗪𝗛𝗔𝗛𝗔𝗛𝗔𝗛𝗔𝗛𝗔𝗛 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗶𝘁!! ;]

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

The door closes behind you with a heavy thud. You manage to finish your salute just in time to hear the final note in its symphony.

You’ve heard it so many times it’s hard to forget. You’ve memorized the sound. Every creak and groan and its place. And it used to annoy you. Used to make you grimace every single time you had to take a trip down the hall to this office. But by all things holy, you’re more than glad you got to hear it at least one more time. Because now that you’ve heard the sound?

You feel like you can finally breathe.

The files tucked beneath your arms are heavy. And standing at attention has never been your strongest suit as just an administrative secretary. But his office is exactly as you remember it during the hours such as these. The hours when the sun starts to crawl on all fours and the sky gets painted shades of fiery reds and oranges and pinks. The hours when those will a little too much pay for their very few responsibilities decide that they’ve done enough sitting around for the day. And the hours when people like you and him had only truly begun to start working. His office looks exactly the same. And you know why you thought it would change. But it didn’t. It didn’t change.

The man who owns this office is the face you wanted to see once you opened the door. It’s the same face. It didn’t change.

You’re so happy it didn’t change.

“Lieutenant Colonel Mustang.” You greet lightly, unable to hold off the small smile that adorns your face. It’s hard keeping up the decorum when your nose is filing cabinets daily rather than speaking and working with the officers like your co-workers usually do. But it’s even harder for you to keep the formalities in check now that your superior is watching you from behind his desk with a smirk of his own dusting across his lips. It flusters you- something that he notices all too easily as he tosses up an eyebrow at you. And so, with warm cheeks and a tight throat, you’re forced to address him once more. “I have the files that you requested.”

Despite the fact that you want nothing more than to run away and hide now that you’re the object of his amusement.

Fortunately for you, he’s merciful. At the mention of the folders tucked beneath your arm, he leans back in his chair with a nod of approval. The motion allows for his jacket to shift ever so slightly on his body. And your eyes manage to catch a glimpse of a worn, white bandage wrapped around his neck and collarbone before you avert your eyes. You’re glad he’s back. But it doesn’t change the reports of what happened out there while he was out in the field. It doesn’t change what he experienced.

It doesn’t change what you thought you knew to be true when there had been no sight of him for over a week.

“And that’s why you’re my favorite. Timely as ever.” The sound his voice makes as his hum carries over the room has you shivering. The look in his eyes is too proud to let you hold the false hope that he doesn’t recognize what he’s doing to you. And his posture is too relaxed to say that he’s not below picking on you now that it’s after hours and you’re both alone. But you should have known that after all his time alone, he wouldn’t change. “Excellent work. I’ll take them on my desk.”

Especially not towards you.

You try not to let the praise affect you that much. You’ve been a secretary for the Military since around the time he joined. You’ve watched him rise through the ranks quickly. Sometimes from afar. Sometimes up close. But at the moment, you’re overwhelmed. More overwhelmed than you’ve ever been in front of any of your superiors- including the Führer.

Your throat is tight, and your mind is elsewhere. But could you be blamed? When the status reports three weeks ago said that he had gone missing after a fight with an unknown assailant, you thought for sure you would never see him again. But as you stand in front of him now, you realize that your hands are shaking. More than they did when you shook his hand and introduced yourself to him for the first time. More than they did when you were told to start preparing the paperwork for a Lieutenant Colonel who had gone MIA and likely died on the battlefield.

More than they did when you first heard that they found his bound- barely conscious but somehow alive.

Yet here you are, walking to the side of his desk with a handful of files that you can’t be bothered to understand why he would deem them more important than his rest and recovery right now. And yet here he is, rising to his feet and stepping out from his chair to meet you as you approach him.

You’re swallowing your thoughts as you stop to stand a respectable distance away. You have so many questions. So many things you weren’t told because of your clearance. But you don’t ask any of them. You don’t ask any of your questions. You just avert your gaze from his face and present the files to him in the way that you were always taught. Back straight and standing tall. Using two hands and reading nothing that you know you’re not supposed to. You have so many questions, but honestly, you’re not sure you care enough about them. You’re not sure you care about them at all. You’re just glad he’s back.

You’re just glad he’s back.

He takes the files out of your hands gently without another word. For a second, you stand there, eyes still down as you await the sound of him dismissing you. But it never comes. Instead, you stand at attention for a moment longer than the first. And then another one. And another one. And another. And another. And another. And another until finally…you decide to look up.

And the sight you’re met with- it surprises you.

Mustang stands with his back straight. Proud and strong as his head turns to the side and reads the documents you just passed off to him. And while you know you’re not supposed to, you couldn’t help but study his profile. The curve of his nose. The shape of his jaw. And the distant look in his eyes. The shakiness of his grip. The unsteady frown on his lips. The sweat beading at his brow. The uneasy-

Another thud sounds. Light, but it’s not without its weight. Not without its bass. Half a second later, the sound of papers scattering in every direction fills your ears. And all too quickly, the sight of it too.

“Colonel Mustang?!” You exclaim in alarm. You hadn’t even noticed the pile of papers slipping from his grip with your gaze and mind being elsewhere at the moment. Your look around you briefly- noting all the papers that had fallen. Luckily, things haven’t seemed to have traveled far. You spot a few by a couple of papers nearby the empty desks abandoned by his subordinates from the day. But most are still on or thrown around his desk. You try your best to remember all the places where the papers had fallen just out of view before turning back to address your superior and his health with the utmost brevity. “Is something wrong? Do you need me to call a doctor or your-”

You lose the words on your lips. Except they weren’t lost. They were taken.

By your superior. By a Lieutenant Colonel. By the flame alchemist.

By a man once presumed dead as he closes his arms around your body and holds you like you’re the only thing that will keep him alive.

And so not only do you lose your words. You lose your breath. It catches in your throat before behind swiped away at Mustang’s speed and strength. And not only do you lose your breath, you lost your thoughts as well. No longer do you think about the papers scattered around the two of you. No longer do you think about how you’re due to report back to your workspace soon. No longer do you think about anything. Anything that isn’t him. Because you know you shouldn’t.You know you shouldn’t do this. You know that you’re breaking all kinds of rules and formalities. You know that if someone were to open the door right now and see him holding you tight and holding you close, your positions could be in jeopardy. You know all this.

But his breath against your neck is sending more shivers down your spine as he buries his head into your shoulder and he breathes in your scent. And his arms around your torso are so, so tight and so warm. And the body you’re pressed against? It’s alive. It’s alive. Is it well? You’re not sure. But all you care about now is that it’s alive, and that’s human, and that it's him. So you tell the years of training and traditions and rules and regulations to fuck off for just a minute. Just one measly minute.

And you hug him back.

And he hugs you tighter.

And you hug him, just as tight.

And he breaks.

Because he’s more than just your superior. He’s a full-bodied human. He might have more confidence than you. He might like making you feel shy and small in front of someone so powerful. But He has thoughts. He has needs. He feels pain. He fights against death. He’s human. And what’s wrong with giving someone a hug? What’s wrong with showing someone that you care? Because you do. You do care. You care so much. You care so much that it hurts.

“I thought about you every day out there. I don’t know why but I…I just did.” His whisper is quiet and hushed against your skin. But you swear you can feel every single word he says as his lips just ghost above your skin. But you don’t respond. You just find a way to squeeze your arms around his shoulders just a little tighter. And you try to pretend that his words didn’t make your heart race in a way that only he’s capable of doing to you. He squeezes you tighter too. The warmth of his palms pressed against your body can be felt through your uniform. It makes you want to cry. “I’m sorry I called you out here. But I had to see you. I had to. I’m sorry.”

“Colonel-” You begin, tears already dusting at your eyes but he doesn’t let you finish.

“Roy.” He interrupts. You breathe hitches, and his grip on your body adjusts, almost as if he’s afraid of you becoming a flight risk now that all bets are off the table. But you just let you sniffle you’ve been holding in fall out as your fist grabs at the fabric of his uniform with all types of fear and desperation. He relaxes into that touch of yours. He breathes a sigh of relief that doesn’t quite go well with your tense body. But he’s quick to finish what he started. Especially now that you’re holding him as much as he’s holding you “You can call me Roy when we’re alone. And forget about all the respect and superiority bullshit. I don’t care how many rules it breaks, I don’t want to ever see you salute me agai-”

But you had something you need to finish as well.

“I thought you died.” You cut him off in your own harsh whisper. The words come out clearer than you expected. Stronger than you had known yourself to be capable of. And more true than you had ever hoped. But you said it. You said, and it’s too late to take it back. Your heart feels heavy at the confession. Your tears start to roll down your cheek at the admittance. And when all is said and done, you almost can’t believe that it’s true. That you almost lost him. That you almost lost the man that had taken your heart so, so long ago. “I thought you were dead, Colonel.”

And that he’s now in your arms, confessing that he thought of you.

“I know…”

Even in his darkest hours. Even in his worst moments.

“I thought you had died… Roy. I thought you were….”

He thought of you.

“I'm sorry.” He tells you.

You want to laugh. You want to laugh as much as you want to cry. Who would have thought that this stupid long-term crush of yours would lead you here? But most of all? You just want to hug him. Holding him. Feeling him. His heartbeat. His breath. His warmth. His body. His everything. Because maybe if you hug him this tight, you’ll gain the courage to tell him the thing you’ve been dying to tell since you first realized that you had fallen for him. And maybe hearing you speak those words will make him say the words you desperately want to hear from him. Since the moment you knew this crush wasn’t going away. Since the moment you heard, he had gone missing and would soon be officially declared dead. And since the moment you had heard he was alive and well and waiting for you in his office.

Or maybe…maybe you won’t say a word. Maybe you won’t say anything at all.

Because maybe feeling your arms around his body is all that you need right now. Because maybe his arms around your body are all that he needs right now too. Because maybe there’s nothing either of you could say that is worth more than the touch of another when the sun sits low. The hold of another when emotions climb high.

Because maybe words work the best when they are spoken at all. Either way, You’re glad he’s back. You’re glad he’s here. You’re glad he’s alive.

And for now, that’s more than enough.

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jaebeomsbitch · 1 year

Text

Puppy (R.R.)

PT. II

Summary: Meeting Roman Roy at a gala leads to other things or Roman Roy entrances you with those big hazel eyes.

Warnings: None

Authors Note: My palate cleanser! I was originally going to shorten this all into one story but my brain is so fried right now. Not edited as always

You’d met Roman at a company gala, you were the plus one of a random schmuck Roman didn’t know. His eyes kept flitting towards you as you walked around the room. He couldn’t pinpoint why, maybe it was because you were hot or maybe because something about your presence commanded power. He could see the way your shoulders are squared back, your mouth moving like you’re not taking any shit. He decides to walk up to you as whoever you were talking to walks away.

“What brings you to this fickle fest at the chuckle factory?” He says, leaning against the cocktail table.

“A little bit of business and a little bit of pleasure,” You say, taking a sip of your champagne.

“Well, you certainly picked the right party of that second one. We are drowning in it in this crowd of the rich, the insufferable, and the wannabe,” He says, hazel eyes unmoving from yours.

You hum, taking another sip of your own drink, the bubbles sliding down your throat. Roman’s eyes follow the way your throat bobs when you drink down the expensive champagne. You can’t help but smirk at the way he seems so focused on you. Roman Roy should be off schmoozing some schmuck for his Daddy’s business but he’s here giving you those signature ‘fuck me’ eyes knowing god damn well he couldn’t if he wanted to.

He smiles back at you with that signature Roy smile, showing off all his perfect straight teeth.

“Is this when you finally tell me your name or do I have to keep calling you Miss Business and Pleasure?” He says.

“You can keep calling me that. I enjoy a little game of mystery,” you say walking around him. You skirt through the crowd until he loses you in the crowd. You turn your business side on and start schmoozing some potential clients.

Roman spends the rest of the night hunting for you. He sees the occasional glance but then you turn a corner or dip behind someone. He notices you talking business to one client and he takes his chance.

He goes to the same person and starts to subtly undercut what you’re saying to the client. He wants to see how you react. Unluckily for him you’re incredibly quick witted and unfazed. You meet his every undercut with your own.

Once the client leaves you turn to Roman with an smug smile knowing they liked you more

“Nice try Romulus, you’ll catch ‘em later tiger” you wink, a smug smile adorning your lips.

You’re skirted away by Kendall who grabs you by the elbow. He whispers something in your ear, eyes looking over to Roman that fire of competition in Kendall’s eyes. Roman can feel that heat in his gut bubble like pure rage. They’ve never been into the same type, why was Kendall picking you? Kendall walks away, phone to his ear.

Before Roman can approach you again someone else is greeting you with a fresh glass of champagne. Roman tries to look away, his eyes avoiding you at all cost but like a magnet, eyes flit back towards you. The way your lips move, your hand brushing off the strangers, your hand tightening around the glass before placing it on the cocktail table. Your eyes find Roman’s jealous gaze.

You excuse yourself walking towards Roman, you can practically feel his anger masked with faux cockiness.

“Who pissed in your cereal? Nevermind you look like you’d enjoy that type of thing,” You say, grabbing a fresh glass of champagne.

Roman is caught off guard by your comment. He feels his heart skip a beat. You’ve managed to get him in this one. He has an annoyed grunt but also is trying not to smile from how good of a quip it was.

He has to try and get you back so he says, “at least I’d have a nice bowl of cereal, Miss Business and Pleasure.”

You can’t help but laugh at his absurdity, “ I didn’t take you as a cereal eater” You say. Roman chuckles at that. He’s only met one person who could bounce off his quips this well.

“What do you take me for?” He says with the slightest hint of a smirk on his face.

“A 120 pounds wet, skips every meal, hair clumps falling out type” you say studying his body for a second.

Roman is taken aback. No one has ever come at him like that. He tries to act unbothered but when he feels his heart skip a beat after just a second of your inspection, he gives a bit of a smile.

“Is that so?” He says with a slight chuckle and a small smile. How had you seen him and broken him apart to his core so quickly? Most people couldn’t tell when he’d pushed expensive meals around. They're all too consumed with their own bullshit to notice Roman faking eating his meals and yet here you are reading him like a children’s book. Like he was the easiest thing to decipher.

You hum in agreement, handing a waiter your empty glass.

“Seems like my night has come to a finish Mr. Roy. I’ll see you, when I see you” you flash him a smile before walking out of the gala.

#roman roy #succession #succession roman #succession hbo #succession spoilers #roman roy imagine #roman roy x reader #kieran culkin #roman roy fanfic #mention of kendall #hbo succession #roman roy x you

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samgirl98 · 1 year

Text

Mending a Family 11/?

Prev | Next

Jason and Jazz bond, and Dick has a sort-of revelation.

Jason sat by the table after saying goodbye to Roy, Raven, and Lian and putting Danny to bed. After the revelation of Mar’i, the adults had sobered a little, and it had gotten awkward. Thankfully, the kids kept playing though Danny would side-eye Jason every once in a while. His knowing look reminded Jason that Danny was a sixteen-year-old trapped in the body of a five-year-old.

Jazz sat across from him with two cups of tea. She gave one to Jason and asked, “How are you feeling?”

Jason frowned; how was he feeling? A part of him was disappointed, but he understood.

“Jazz, when I came back, I killed people. I hurt Tim. It makes sense that Dick never told me he had a daughter. I’m doing the same thing now with Danny! Besides, nobody in their right mind would let a murderer around their child.”

“Just because you understand and can rationalize it doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.”

Jason smiled softly at her, “What are you, my psychiatrist, now?”

“I don’t have to be a psychiatrist to know this affected you more than you want to let on.”

Jason sighed, “I understand; really, I do. But what pisses me off is that Roy told me that Dick is obsessively looking for me. All of them are. How can they freeze me out of the family, not at least tell me, ‘Hey Jason, you’re an uncle,’ and then call me family and use that as an excuse to hunt me down like a rabid animal?”

Jazz sipped her tea, “I think they’re probably feeling guilty now because they managed to chase you away. From what I’ve heard, they like to be in control.”

Jason snorted, “Yeah, they’re all control freaks that have no issue invading others’ privacy. Starting with Daddy Bats.”

“Do you miss them,” she asked quietly.

“I do,” he answered in the same volume, “but I burned those bridges long ago.”

They stayed in silence for a while.

“I hope I’m not overstepping, but you have become my family. I see how you act around Danny, and I am grateful that you parent and love him the way a parent loves their child. Our parents weren’t the best, so I’m glad Danny will get a second chance at childhood, and it’s all thanks to you.”

Jason smiled, “Well, at least I’m doing right by Danny.”

“You think—you think you’ll ever talk to them again?”

“Not when there’s a chance they’ll take Danny away from me. They see me as unstable, but I won’t ever hurt Danny. I don’t know if I’m a bad parent, but Danny has helped me more than I’ve helped him, and he’s keeping me sane.”

Jazz shrugged, “I’m not precisely sane myself, and as long as you don’t verbally tell Danny he’s the only reason you feel your mental stability is better, then I see no harm in it. It’s bad when a parent puts that pressure on their child. However, I have a feeling you’re saner than you think you are.”

Jazz finished her tea.

“Besides, you can’t be judged by human standards.”

Jason rolled his eyes; he stopped explaining to Danny and Jazz that he was utterly, one hundred percent human.

“Do you really think I’m a good parent?”

“Yes,” she answered without hesitation.

Jason sighed, “I miss my old family sometimes.”

“You want to talk about them?”

“I can’t talk much about the newer members, but Dick, he’s my oldest brother; he’s huggy, a huge jokester. There’s always a pun or quip coming out of his mouth. He didn’t; well, when I was younger, I thought he hated me. He was always yelling at Bruce, and most of the time, he ignored me, but eventually, he came around.”

“I remember one time he took me train surfing. It was so fun! I was hanging out with my older brother, my predecessor. He also stole Bruce’s car once and took me on a joyride after Bruce had grounded me.”

“There’s also Barbie. She helped me a lot with homework when I was younger. She’s—she’s also the only one that kept contact with me after all the shi—things I did. You remind me of her. She’s kind, same as you. And you both have red hair. She’s crazy smart like you are. The things she can do with computers,” Jason shook his head in disbelief.

“There’s Alfred. He’s like a grandfather to me. He taught me how to cook; he’s the one I miss the most, to be honest. I wouldn’t be surprised if he missed me, too, but he was giving me my space.”

Jason couldn’t bring himself to talk about Bruce. The man had been his father, but he had both disappointed Jason and been disappointed by Jason.

His biggest failure, Jason thought bitterly.

“Mom and dad,” Jazz started, took a deep breath, and continued, “Mom and dad, when they weren’t obsessed with their work, showed how much they cared for us in their way. Mom would make delicious fudge that got devoured quickly. Dad, he would call me his princess.”

“We’d go camping every summer until—until the portal opened. They had always been obsessed with ghosts, but they went into overdrive after the portal. They neglected us; Danny was being hurt. Eventually, it became too much, and Danny started detaching himself from everyone, including his friends, because he didn’t want anyone hurt.”

“I miss them sometimes, but I can never forgive them for what they did. They find out about Danny, and the first thing they do is attack! How could they?!”

Jazz was breathing hard, “How could they? They told us they loved us.”

Jazz started crying. Jason was stunned for a moment, and then he got up. He let Jazz cry on his shoulder.

Two broken people held on to each other. They may have lost an old family, but slowly, they would build a new one.

____

“Daddy!”

Dick opened his arms as his daughter flew into them. Kory floated right beside him and smiled softly at their three-year-old.

“Thanks for letting her stay with me for the week,” Dick said, “I needed this.”

“My pleasure. She wanted to see her daddy, anyway.”

Dick let Mar’i down and watched as she ran to her room.

“How’s the search going,” Kory asked.

Dick’s smile fell. They still hadn’t found any trace of Jason. Alfred was telling them to leave Jason alone and that he’ll contact them when he wants to. Roy stopped talking to Dick altogether, and Bruce was losing his mind.

“It’s not going well. Why, have you found anything?”

“No, sorry, but I haven’t been paying too much attention.”

“That’s okay. Wally and Superman are looking for him. We’ll find him, eventually.”

Mar’i decided to come out at that moment.

“Daddy, daddy, can we go see Grandpa Bruce,” she lisped, “and Uncles Timmy and Damian and aunties Cassie and Steph? Will Uncle Duke be there with the pretty lights?”

Dick felt a ping in his chest. His daughter hadn’t mentioned Jason. She had never met him, and Dick couldn’t help but feel guilty. Would Jason have stayed if the family had tried to integrate him more? Was it because of them that he left?

That bothered Dick, questions. He wanted, needed to know why Jason left instead of coming to them.

Because you shut the door, his mind supplied.

It was right.

@idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit @skulld3mort-1fan @theauthorandtheartist @emergentpanda-blog @jaggedheart11 @fisticuffsatapplebees @booberrylizard @fantasticbluebirdfan @thegatorsgooseoose @cyrwrites @kjoboo91 @crystallicedart @amaramizuki666 @spekulatiusmuffin @meira-3919 @kilasmess @bubblemixer @lexdamo @wonderland-daisy @mj-arts-n-stuff @amyheart19 @dolfay @the-church-grimm @undead-essence @aph-mable @lizisipancardo @purrloin77 @writer-extraodinaire @charlietheepic7 @sinfulloccultist @nootherusernameworked @coruscateselene @chaoticchange @itsberrydreemurstuff @gmkelz11 @feral-bunny31 @paroovian @thatonegaybitch68 @d4ydr34min9 @overtherose @fandomwandererer @vipower001 @thordottir45 @blackrabbitt3t @rosecinnamonbun @bianca-hooks123 @epilepticnerd @dat1angel @consouling @flamingenchiladadragon

#mending a family #dc x dp #dp x dc

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