gentleman's approach


Requested by @boydoeshereign

Roman Reigns x reader

He lays his eyes on (y/n) and it’s love at first sight. If possible, can he be the perfect gentleman in his approach?

Originally posted by stellarollins

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Inspector - Tommy Shelby

Originally posted by mon-autre-moi

Hey, can u do a tommy fic where y/n and Tommy are together. But y/n has to flirt with Cambell to get info and Tommy gets jealous when Cambell brags to him

Inspector - Tommy Shelby

The first time you heard Inspector Campbell’s name was not from Tommy. Arthur was talking to John about a new Inspector in town, a man who had hunted IRA members in Belfast and was now being dropped into Birmingham by Winston Churchill.  

The second time you heard of him was when he came waltzing through the doors of the Garrison, not seeming to care that the facility was home to Blinders and their allies. You were behind the counter, getting yourself a glass of brandy because Harry was swamped with orders.  

“That’s inspector Campbell,” Harry whispered, walking passed you.  

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anonymous asked:

So, y'know, usually I write the fics and requests. This time I wanna take a chill pill and read a request of my own 😊. Can I get a reader x Roman fic, where he lays his eyes on her and it's love at first sight. If possible, can he be the perfect gentleman in his approach? 😜 / love from J xx ( @boydoeshereign ).

It’s up! Hope you enjoy, @boydoeshereign! HERE

Yesterday's Commute

8:32 AM 

I leave for work 7 minutes later than I need to leave to catch the train that will allow me to get to work 4 minutes late. This is what I typically consider “good enough.” 8:33 AM I spot a frozen mouse on the sidewalk. For real. He’s so tiny and his eyes are open, but he doesn’t move as everyone walks by on the sidewalk, so I assume he is either very near death or frozen, which incidentally are my current default states of being. 8:40 Squish onto packed subway train. When the car is absolutely as full as it can possibly get and everyone is pressed into everyone else’s gross, damp bodies, an ambitious gentleman approaches the door, says “Excuse me,” like that means something, and pushes everyone even further so that he can get on. 8:43 I snag a coveted end seat where I can comfortably read my book for two stops. In this case, “comfortably” refers to having one stranger’s knees pressing into my left thigh, another stranger’s puffy coat billowing into my lap, and a third stranger’s giant arms swinging into my field of vision occasionally as he stands in front of me, grasping the bar above me as precariously as possible. 8:46 I get up to exit the train at the exact moment that the man in front of me decides to bring his elbow down and it collides with my head. Hard. He apologizes and I say nothing as I mentally calculate whether or not I’m about to cry. Surprisingly, I find that the answer is no, gather myself together, and squish off the train. 8:47 I stand in a long, somber, shuffling line of people to get on the escalator. I imagine this line as a metaphor for life and the escalator as our ascent to heaven. Or, in this case, the purgatory of Jay St. Metrotech station where I must fight my way through a mob of people coming up both sides of the staircase, like soulless devils, as I head back down to the hell of another platform. 8:52 My next train arrives. Having been indecisive about where best to stake out my space on the platform, I am now in the position of having to gauge which doorway will empty out the fastest, which car seems the least clotted with human bodies, and which line of people appears the most spry, youthful, and thin. I pick one, realize I’m behind a woman with a stroller, and quickly run to the next, find myself behind a man with an enormous backpack, and change my mind a third time. If I choose poorly, it will mean waiting for the next train and I am not about to let that happen.  8:54 I make it onto the train, but there’s not enough space for me to raise my book in front of my face without hitting someone with my purse. I want to put in my earbuds, but if I take my hand off the pole, someone will definitely inch their hand slightly down and I’ll lose my grip entirely. I suffer in silence. 9:01 I am officially late for work. This is normal. 9:05 Exit the train to switch to my third and final train across the platform. The beautiful E train is moderately clean, bright, and so fucking spacious I could kiss it. I obviously do not kiss it. 9:08 Get off the train. Walk against human traffic to reach the underpass so that I can spend the least possible amount of time out in the cold. The underpass is a short cement hallway that smells like piss and disinfectant, but it’s always blissfully (eerily) empty. I hurry through. 9:09 I walk against the swell of people again on the opposite platform, toward the less popular middle exit, wait in line to go upstairs, and then out into the insufferable cold. 9:14 I enter my building and wait for the elevator, even though my office is on the second floor. The stairs are only to be used during a fire and will set off an alarm. I don’t actually mind this very much, but that’s a secret. 9:16 Arrive at work, hair a mess, cheeks flushed, but not in the pretty starlet way, lunch toppling out of my bag, tights sagging. This is typical. This is Wednesday.

Role-Reversal au (closed~ lonelyxoutcasts)

“You’re sure about him, Lucille?” Thomas asks, eyeing the man standing across the ballroom from them.  Lucille nodded, hiding her nervousness behind her fan.  The man certainly was attractive, causing Thomas a pang of jealousy.  It would be all the more fun to end it later.
“It’s only for a little while Thomas, then it’ll be just us again, I promise.” Lucille says quietly.
“You started to get attached to the last one; let’s not have a repeat, hmmm?”
“Of course brother.”
“Now go do what you do best.” Thomas encourages darkly.  Lucille kisses his cheek before approaching the gentleman in question.
“Sir, I know this is forward of me, but no one else in this room knows how to dance properly…You look like you could show all of them a thing or two…”

( @lonelyxoutcasts)