#and summer fruity notes

[sceletaflores]

Advantage, Duncan.

pairing: stanford!tashi duncan x fem!reader

summary: tashi duncan doesn’t get on her knees for anyone, but she did for you. after that night she knew there wasn’t a chance in hell she’d let you slip away from her.

—or: tashi needs you to understand that she doesn't give a fuck about patrick.

word count: 2.7k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, girl kissing, oral (fem!receiving), fingering (only barely but fem!receiving), somewhat public sex (in a locker room lmao), cheating but not really, love confessions kind of, lowkey manipulative!tashi but barely, patrick getting shit on like always, porn with a dash of plot, no use of y/n.

author’s note: back on my wlw cheater bullshit! so glad to be here! i centered this whole fic around a locker room sex scene. it just sort of spiraled into this cause you know i love being messy. once again no one requested this i'm being selfish lmao but i need more tashi fics on my masterlist! hope you love it! okay bye mwah xoxo.

Tashi’s sneakers squeak quietly as she makes her way back to the locker room. Sweat drying on her brow and adrenaline still buzzing in her veins despite the match being over. It was an easy win, Northridge had been slipping down the ranks the longer the season went on and the girl had a shit backhand.

The first thing Tashi did after shaking hands and posing for pictures was text you. She left the locker room door cracked open for you. The thought of you sitting there alone waiting patiently for her behind that door made her almost giddy enough to skip the rest of the way down the hall.

This was something like a tradition for you guys now, meeting in the locker room after her matches. Something that started a little after the two of you met a couple months ago. It was the last tournament she had before the fall semester started. The court was owned by some snobby Northern California country club that your dad happened to be president of. He stuck you in the ball crew for the summer so he could watch you keep you busy and make sure you stayed out of trouble, joke's on him. 

You were the first thing she noticed the second she stepped on the court, but how could she not? You in your cute flowy linen shorts and matching white top. A light blue visor strapped to your head. Tashi immediately got why guys have that primal, desperate urge to impress pretty girls they just met. She showed off more in that match than she had in a long time, running the girl on the other end of the court ragged.

Tashi wanted you to notice her, to see how dominating she was, to be impressed by her. Every time she hit a perfect shot, her eyes would dart to you, checking if you were watching, and you were. 

You were practically gawking at her, eyes all wide and admiring as your head snapped back and forth with every smack of the ball. 

It was perfect, you were gravitating towards her more with every new set exactly like she wanted you to. By the time she won you were watching her with stars in your eyes, gaze trailing after her every move like you were a sunflower and she was the sun. And even though lots of people have looked at her that way, you were the only one she looked back at. It made Tashi’s skin buzz with something she’d never felt outside of tennis. 

She was swept away for pictures and press before she could talk to you, but there was a party later that night thrown in honor of the players at the club's banquet hall. Tashi was standing at the bar when you slid up next to her, introducing yourself with adoration swirling in your eyes and a shy smile on your glossy lips. Tashi let herself smile right back as she shook your hand for a little longer than normal.

Two hours later and she had you in one of the hall’s many bathrooms with your Dior dress hiked up around your hips and her tongue on your pussy. She can still remember every detail of that moment. The fruity notes of your perfume, the way you tasted, how sweetly you moaned her name with your voice so breathy and desperate.

Tashi Duncan doesn’t get on her knees for anyone, but she did for you. After that night she knew there wasn’t a chance in hell she’d let you slip away from her.

Now, as she pushed open the locker room door and saw you sitting on the long bench in the center of the room, just like always, she felt a surge of possessiveness and longing. The sight of you waiting for her, so patient and devoted, made something dangerously close to love burn hot in her chest.

“Took you long enough,” you tease, standing up to greet her. You’re wearing one of her shirts, DUNCANATOR stretched across your chest in blocky red letters.

She dropped her bag at her feet, quickly crossing the room until she was close enough to pull you into a tight hug, burying her face in your neck. She was still sweaty but you didn’t care, arms coming up to wrap around her shoulders.

“I missed you,” she murmured, her voice a little too intense, her grip a little too tight. 

You laugh, your hands giving her shoulders a tiny squeeze. “It’s only been like an hour, Tash.” 

An hour felt like a whole year to her at this point. Tashi hated being away from you, hated not knowing what you were doing, who you were with, what you were thinking. She wanted to be the center of your world, just like you were so quickly becoming the center of hers. Steadily elbowing tennis inch by inch just to try and make enough room in her heart for something else. 

Tashi pulled away from you, taking a second to scan her eyes over your face. You were so beautiful, so perfect and sweet for her. She raised her hand to cup the side of your face, thumb swiping across the skin of your cheekbone a few times. You were flushed from sitting out in the sun, skin warm and soft to the touch.

She leans in without thinking, pressing her lips against yours. You taste like coconut lip balm and Pepsi. Tashi’s hand tightens its hold on your waist, pulling you in impossibly closer. She felt you sigh contently against her lips, lazily kissing back as easy as anything. Tashi felt like if she focused hard enough, that she could feel your heartbeat pounding where your chest met hers.

She swipes her tongue across your bottom lip, her hands making their way down to the small of your back to slip her fingertips under the waistband of your shorts. Your lips parted the slightest bit before you were pulling away with a small whine, pushing off her shoulders to create distance between the two of you. Tashi let her hands fall from your body as you take a small step backwards, immediately missing the warmth you took with you.

She was confused by the sudden shift in your mood until she saw the look on your face. The absolute picture of guilt, your brows furrowed enough to make a tiny crease in the middle of your forehead with your lip drawn between your teeth. Your eyes are droopy and sad as you wearily gaze at her from a few feet away. Tashi suppresses the overwhelming urge to sigh, brow raised as she stares back at you, waiting.

“I…” you trail off, wrapping your arms around yourself slowly. “I actually needed to talk to you, Tashi.”

‘Here we go.’ She thinks dryly, internally rolling her eyes. She can already tell she’s going to have to talk you down, again. She really should have expected this, you bringing up Patrick, you’ve done it enough times to be a trend. It’s been so long since the last time you said anything she was hoping you finally dropped it, apparently not.

Tashi doesn’t respond right away, just tilting her head slightly as she watches you. You shuffle uncomfortably in place, your eyes looking anywhere but her. She can see you take a steadying breath, trying to hype yourself up before you speak again.

“This is wrong,” Your voice is unconvincing, meek and soft. Tashi would laugh if she didn’t want to hurt your feelings. “What we’re doing, it’s wrong. It’s not fair to poor Patrick.”

It’s almost funny, how genuine you're being, how bad you truly feel for Patrick.

Poor, poor Patrick. Yeah fucking right. 

‘Poor Patrick’ is on tour right now probably sticking his dick in anyone that’ll let him. He’s nothing. A momentary lapse in judgment when you and Tashi went a few weeks without talking. She was hurt and vulnerable, two things she’s not used to feeling. She needed to feel in control of something again to stop her from going crazy, Patrick was easy enough.

When the two of you started talking again, she shut that shit down immediately. She was reminded of what a monumental waste of time Patrick is and pushed him to the furthest, most unimportant corner of her brain. She didn’t need him anymore, not when she had you again.

Tashi finally lets out a small sigh, more out of impatience than exasperation. She steps closer, her gaze hardening. "You really think he cares?" Her voice is low, controlled, but there's an edge to it. "Patrick doesn't need your pity. He's fine. He always is."

Your eyes widen at her words, the guilt on your face deepening. "But—"

“No.” Tashi cuts you off sharply, jaw set stubbornly. “Listen to me, Patrick is nothing. He’s just dick. He’ll never be more than just dick.” She takes another step towards you, closing the gap you made. “He doesn’t care about us, about this.” She motions between the two of you, her voice raising slightly as she speaks.

You swallow hard, arms tightening around yourself defensively as you stare at her with watery eyes. 

Tashi's whole demeanor softens, the anger draining from her body at the hurt look on your face. She would never speak to you like that, it’s just Patrick that really pisses her off. He’s not even here and he’s still managing to fuck with her. She steps even closer, her hand reaching out to gently lift your chin, forcing you to look at her. 

Your name falls from her lips, warm and wrapped in velvet, her thumb traces along your bottom lip slowly. "We have something real," she whispers fiercely, grip tightening on your chin just a fraction. "Something he could never understand. Don't let him ruin that. Don't let him ruin us."

You nod slowly, eyes big and shiny with unshed tears. It’s not good enough, Tashi can tell that you’re still apprehensive. You’re still worried, still guilty even with her reassurance. She can’t have that. If she doesn’t get you to drop this, you’ll let it consume you enough to try something stupid, like leaving her. Tashi refuses to let that even be an option.

If she can’t convince you with words, she can convince you through her actions. 

Tashi needs to drive home the point that sparing Patrick’s feelings isn’t something you need to be worried about, clearly tough love isn’t going to work on you. If she has to get on her knees to help make you understand, then she will.

She leans in slowly, pressing a small kiss to the corner of your mouth. Your breath catches slightly, held for only a second before you finally relax. Not completely, just enough for her to feel it. She keeps going, dragging kisses from your cheek up to your ear.

“Patrick is nothing compared to you.” she whispers directly into your ear, dropping your chin to start sliding her hand slowly down your front. “You’re so much better than him,” her hand stops at the hem of your shorts, tugging the button open with one sharp yank. You gasp sharply, hand flying up to grip her bicep tightly. Your eyes flick to the door, open and unlocked, but you’re not pushing her away, not trying to stop her. 

Tashi leans down, trailing kissing across the soft skin of your throat. “You’re everything.” She slips her hand into your shorts and down the front of your soft panties, her fingertips barely graze the slick skin of your pussy before you’re moaning.

“Fuck.” your hand squeezes her arm tighter, nails digging little crescent moons into her skin as she slides her index finger through the wetness gathering at your entrance. 

You’re so wet, completely drenching her hand in seconds. She teases you, barely pushing her finger past your tight hole as she licks a dirty stripe up the center of your throat. You whine, a desperate, too loud noise that bounces off the walls. Slowly, she breaches your entrance, sinking her finger up to the knuckle in the tight warmth of your pussy.

She watches you, takes in the needy look on your pretty face. So worked up for a single finger, so desperate for it that your hips cant down to get her deeper inside you. The wet squelch of her finger thrusting in and out of you sounds even dirtier, amplified by the room's echo. 

“You’re so beautiful.” Her tone is soft but final, like she’s stating a fact. She stares at you as she fucks her finger faster in and out of your fluttering pussy, gaze intense and unwavering. You stare back like a deer in headlights, silent except for the sharp pants falling from your slick, parted lips. That’s okay, you don’t need to do any of the talking anyway.

Tashi nips at the sensitive skin of your collarbone once before she’s dropping to her knees on the cold concrete. Her greedy hands gripping the waistband of your shorts and yanking them down your legs roughly, your lilac panties quickly follow. You gasp sharply, the cool air of the room hitting your bare pussy. “Tash-” 

Tashi cuts you off, leaning forward to slip your clit between her lips. You throw your head back, your loud moan echoing through the room. She swirls her tongue over the sensitive skin of your clit, exactly how you like it. You’re already so worked up, she knows this won’t take long.

Her mouth works you over expertly, licking and sucking and mouthing hungrily at your dripping pussy. She teases the tip of her tongue along your clenching hole, so desperate to be filled by the strap sitting in a old box on the highest shelf of her closet. Her thighs clench at the thought, you bouncing on her dick, wrecked and spent on the sheets of her bed. She pushes the idea to the back of her mind, you always have later for that. Right now, she’s focused on making you come on her tongue. 

Tashi can tell you’re getting close. Your breathing changes, gets heavier, even more little moans and whines falling from your lips each time her nose presses against your clit just right. Your fingers slide into her hair as you start to roll your hips, chasing her mouth. 

“God, Tashi–!” Your thighs shake on either side of her head, hands twisting her hair in your grip roughly. “Shit, yes–fuck! I’m gonna come–” Your hips start to grind against her tongue even faster as you got closer to the edge.

Tashi lets you use her face to get off, her hands sliding up and down the side of your thighs soothingly as you come. She works you through your orgasm, her tongue sliding along your sensitive skin until you’re physically pulling her away.

Tashi presses one last kiss to your hip before she stands, pulling your shorts and panties back up your legs as she does. You’re still trying to catch your breath, leaning up against the lockers as she buttons your zipper for you. Your face is flushed and sweaty, your eyes are glossed over and hazy. She smiles, giving you a soft kiss with your release still coating her lips and tongue. You kiss back regardless, slow and sweet like molasses. 

Tashi pulls away first, giving your cheek a quick tap before stepping away to pick up her bag up off the floor. “Come on,” she offers you her hand, nodding her head towards the door. “Let’s go get frozen yogurt.” 

You smile, making your way across the room to slide your hand into hers. Tashi goes to push the door open, but you stay in place, tugging her hand back. When she turns to face you, there’s a look on your face she hasn’t seen before. “You’re everything too.” 

Your tone is so sincere, so genuine that she feels her heart grow three sizes. Your eyes sparkle as you stare at her like she’s a God. It’s exactly what she wanted. She smiles, giving your hand a hard squeeze and finally dragging you out of the locker room.

Duncan: Game, Set, Match.

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[toji-sweetheart]

𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐤 | 𝐭. 𝐳𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

synopsis: Your best friend who is also in your book club drops something a bit darker than what the group is used to, but deep down you find that it triggers something for you and all you need is your husband's help.

wc: 8.5k

tags: 18+ ONLY content + explicit smut: minors and empty blogs DNI + she/her pronouns used + not beta read + my oc! characters + some angst? + cnc roleplay + rough sex + you smoke weed and drink wine but not before the scene + soft degradation with praise + toe sucking (you receiving) + size kink + he's taller than you + he's strong and can you manhandle you + sex toys + no part2 to this!

please note that I wrote this for myself and myself only so this is very self-indulgent! I had so much fun writing this!!! this is a repost that I did edit!

By now Toji knew the drill seeing that it was a tradition. 

You and a few friends would end up at your shared house with wine and a fruity paper-rolled joint each for everyone while talking about the book you all read over the last three weeks before meeting every Saturday at the end of the month to gush about the characters and plot. 

It was only once a month seeing that everyone had jobs and lives that demanded all of your attention and this was a way for you to finally relax and let go of all your responsibilities, forget everything, and laugh with your friends. 

There were only six of you, but mostly only three would come. 

“I’m not sure where to even begin with this book, the male main character to die for, Kaleb is dreamy, and the way he treats Anna makes me want to rip my hair out and eat it, I need a man like that, I hate you for that,” Mai whined as soon as she settled on the loveseat next to Amy. 

The four of you sat on your patio couch under the orange and red streaked sky as a warm summer breeze blew by bringing all the season's smells, someone's pool, a BBQ happening at the end of the road, and fresh-cut grass.

All eyes shifted to you as you poured a glass of sweet white wine. “What?” Your voice came out high-pitched knowing exactly why the other women were looking at you, because they knew you were living a main character lifestyle with your husband Toji. 

Hana whose job was to roll the joints sat next to you and elbowed you gently making you sputter on your wine. “We have no choice but to live vicariously through you and the books, but this one is maybe even something you haven’t done,” Mai told you with a silly grin as she grabbed her purse. 

You watched as she dug through the tote until she finally found what she was looking for. “Ah! So this book is on the darker side, and since it was my turn to choose I picked this one up for everyone.” She announced proudly handing out the books to everyone as her curly burnt orange hair fell in her face. 

Everyone looked at each other and then at Mai skeptically. “Dark how?” Amy asked skeptically once she helped finish the last joint, it was set up beforehand that everyone would get their own so there wasn’t a puff puff pass rule or anything like that and no one ended with burnt fingers or the joint going out. 

“Well,” Mai cleared her throat with a coy smile as she took the cherry-flavored joint and leaned back, “the male mc is obsessed with the female lead but they had an awful breakup and he doesn’t accept it so he breaks into their old shared apartment while she gets ready for a date and he fucks the life out of her then it follows the roller coaster of their relationship.” 

Silence filled the patio minus the soft breeze that blew by ruffling up the pages of the books that sat on the coffee table. “He just breaks in and fucks her?” Amy questioned with a scrunched-up nose, her skin glowing under the lamps that Mai hung up for you as she leaned in to look at Mai with incredulous eyes. 

Amy and Hana were pretty vanilla which is something you never hold against them but Mai will gladly let her freak flag fly and has not a problem with it, nor do you have an issue matching her freak. 

“She does want it at first, have you two never heard of dubious consent?” Mai shot back rolling her eyes as she tucked her slender legs under her glancing at you for backup. 

“Yes, it’s borderline noncon though Mai.” Amy sighed and tucked a piece of blonde hair behind her ear glancing at Hana and then you. 

You sighed not wanting to get in the middle of it. “How about we just read it and see?” Hana suggested surprising the rest of the group as she lit her joint. 

Amy wanted to scoff, you could see it in her eyes but she remained silent. “You know if you pulled that stick out of your ass you’d enjoy things more,” Mai told Amy pushing her buttons wanting to get a reaction out of the controlled woman. 

“Stop it. We only meet once a month and we’re going to fight over what our preferences are in bed? We are adult women with different wants and needs, so stop bristling her Mai, and Amy, I love you honey but you do need to relax a bit and I’m not saying you have to read it, do some reviews on it then see.” 

Mai looked at you conveying her thanks with a wet smooch on the cheek and a tight hug. “This is why we keep you around, you tell us how it is without being too much of a bitch.” She cooed playfully and took the lighter from Hana to light the end of her cherry-flavored joint. 

“Somehow I was dubbed the mother of the group when you are all older than me and I have no children, but maybe you three. Now thank Mommy.” You told them with a grin grabbing your strawberry-flavored joint and the new book settling it in your lap opening to the first chapter. 

Amy was the last one to grab the book after she looked up a few reviews dubbing it okay to read, the scent of marijuana lingered about relaxing your body further onto the patio couch as did the wine that made you giggle as you read the third page reminding you of Toji the other night who was teasing you.

Hana leaned over making sure that her page matched yours when her glassy eyes met yours. “What’s so funny?” She asked curiously as to why you were grinning as the male character was thinking about the female lead and envisioning her in front of him as he jerked off. 

“Nothing, just thinking of what my husband told me last night, he was something…he reminds me of this guy, Kaleb.” You hummed taking a sip of your wine and settling next to Hana resting your head on her shoulder. 

Mai made sure to slide a bookmark between the pages listening to you intently. “What did he say?” She asked wiggling her eyebrows with a grin. 

You rolled your eyes. “Just keep reading, we have an hour to finish a chapter or two and we got to call it a night, Toji will be home soon.” You told them excited for your husband's arrival earning collective head nods from your friends. 

“It’s almost like your husband doesn’t like us or something.” Mai sing-songed, her blue eyes almost shut as she laid back resting her head on Amy’s lap forging the reason that she was even here. 

“It’s not that, he just likes our alone time is all, and I love you three but Mai you yap way too much, Amy you’re so wound up sometimes, and Hana you are too quiet, he thinks you’re scared of him.” You hummed still following the lines on the paper. 

Hana’s jaw dropped as her face flushed red which you knew was partially due to her crushing on Toji, but it seemed like a lot of women do but you knew that your friends would never try to hurt you in any way and you were very comfortable and confident in your love and relationship with Toji. 

Mai and Amy shared a look before glancing at you. “I’m not scared of him but he is scary-looking, and he doesn’t smile unless you’re around,” Hana told you with a high-pitched giggle happy for you more than anything, the other women knew of your life before Toji and how he helped you flourish. 

You couldn’t help but feel a flush of warmth at that, your entire face burned as you hid it in between the pages of your book listening to your friends hoot and howl while teasing you about your teddybear husband. “You three need to start joining dating sites instead of focusing on fictional men you know.” 

“Says the only married one in our group who gets dicked down whenever she wants! Do you know the last time I got laid? If I open my legs you will hear my hips squeaking and I’m sure the spider that made a home there will be upset.” Mai cried as she tossed herself back on the patio couch with a whine. 

All of you busted out in a chorus of laughter as you squeezed Hana’s hand before leaning back with your almost-finished joint, the books were forgotten now as you all waited for Hana to roll another one while Amy refilled the wine glasses. “You sure did get lucky with Toji,” Hana told you with a soft smile.

“He’s not going to leave her so stop acting like it,” Mai told her friend with a warning look causing the air to shift from playful to something thicker with tension.

Hana rolled her eyes and excused herself to your kitchen to help Amy. “She wants your man, why is she still here if she wants to fuck him?” Mai asked with an irritated huff. You knew that she wanted only the best for you, she’s been your best friend since pre-school and Toji was her brother-in-law. 

You lit your second joint and rested your feet on the coffee table letting your eyes shift to the lights that twinkled and gently swayed with the wind knowing Mai was right in a way. “She can fantasize about him all she wants because I know I’m the only woman my husband wants.” You replied with a shrug. 

“Could never be me, if you wanted my man I’d break your kneecaps.” 

Her lips split in a wicked grin as she broke out into giggles. “Well, we both know that you don’t even like men that much, you’re into women.” 

Mai shrugged and pulled her phone out to show you a picture of someone's dating profile. “She’s very pretty, did you message her?” You asked scrolling through her pictures hoping your best friend finds the love she deserves. 

She snatched her phone back and shook her head. “Oh, no. I’m nervous too, this woman is way out of my league.” 

“Have you looked in the mirror lately? I promise you that she will want you and about Hana, leave her alone. I trust her fully and I know she’d never ever hurt me in that way, plus Toji would tell her to fuck off.” You told her with a shrug of your shoulders feeling your body melt further into the cushions. 

“How do you become so confident like that?” Mai asked batting her eyelashes as she placed both linked hands over her heart as she sat up and leaned in. 

You laughed and pushed her face away softly and gently so as not to hurt her just in time for Hana and Amy to join you two with new glasses of wine. “What’s so funny?” Hana asked, her curiosity sometimes got the best of her. 

Mai shook her head when the front door creaked open and then shut followed by Toji’s heavy footsteps into the kitchen where he saw the four of you huddled outside on the patio. His eyes instantly found you with a smile. 

All of the other women watched as you scrambled up off the couch to hurry inside and over to your husband wrapping him in a hug the best you could. “Smokin’ and drinkin’ are we? I’m in for it tonight.” Toji teased rubbing your shoulders then back keeping you close to him as he kissed the crown of your head. 

He knew that when you got a hold of either one or both that his dick wouldn’t have any rest, and your sexual appetite for him seemed to grow making you into a feral woman that wanted to mate with her lover over and over again. 

“They are so cute.” Hana sighed resting her chin in her palm as she watched you and Toji kiss and hold each other close while talking about your days. 

Mai rolled her eyes and cleaned up the table before gathering her stuff and leaving your book on the patio couch. “It’s time for us to go before she rips his clothes off.” She teased leading the other two into the kitchen causing you to pull away from Toji stammering when you got caught in a deep liplock. 

Amy was the first one to hug you and bid a goodnight followed by Hana then Mai. “I’m watching Hana, I’ll call you tomorrow. I love you!” She kissed your cheek then looked at Toji and rolled her eyes waving at him. 

Toji chuckled and made sure they all got to their cars safely from the front door as you stood behind him. “I’m so glad you’re home, I missed you so much.” You whispered standing up your tippy-toes to kiss him when he turned to shut the door and face you. 

His hands swooped down to your ass as you jumped up letting him hold you in his arms as you wrapped your legs around him the best you could while you bumped your nose against him inhaling his scent. “I missed you too baby.” 

You sighed in contentment and let him carry you straight to the bedroom where he lay on top of the blankets with a heavy sigh as you straddled him resting your hands on his broad shoulders and massaging the tense muscles. 

“What are you thinkin’ about darlin’?” He asked hooking his finger under your chin softly pulling your head up to meet his gaze. Years later he could still fill your belly with that soft tug of butterflies and make your heart clench like you were falling in love with him all over again. 

Toji tucked one hand behind his head to look at you as you moved down between his legs that he spread. “It was Mai’s turn to pick a book time and it’s very interesting, to say the least, but it gave me an idea.” You hummed with a slight slur as your fingers tugged his pants off tossing them on the floor. 

His eyes watched as your hands moved to remove his shirt and yours then your shorts then panties before settling on your side next to Toji leaving you both stark naked and skin to skin letting his heat fuse into you as you traced the tattoo of your name on his chest. “Idea?” He asked wanting to know more. 

You couldn’t look him in the eye even though he’s tasted every single inch of your skin. “So—promise not to laugh or anything?” You asked quietly and muffled feeling the weed and wine loosen your tongue. 

“Have I ever?” Toji questioned. 

“Fair point.” You mumbled. 

His fingers traced your spine as silence filled the bedroom for a moment. “The main male character is with the female lead and they broke up but he’s obsessed with her so when she breaks up with him he breaks into her apartment which they shared and he fucks her before her date.” 

“And…you want me to do that?” He asked raising an eyebrow and chuckling when you nodded your head that was stuffed between his ribs and arm when you rolled to your stomach feeling his hand travel further down to your ass. 

“Well, I want to do a roleplay of sorts, we pretend to break up in a public place to make it feel real then you follow me home.” You murmured finally picking your head up to look at him as your toes curled when his hand cupped your jaw gently leaning in to press a tender kiss to your head. 

Toji pulled away to trace your upper lip with his thumb gazing into your eyes intently making the air shrink around you both, everything else faded away as he talked in a low voice making your pussy wet. “So you want me to follow you home and break in and fuck you rough while you try and “fight” me off?” 

You nodded feeling your face heat up in embarrassment as you bit your bottom lip. “Yes, I trust you, and it’s something new. We’ve done a lot, but never something like that and it would be fun I think, also we will have a safe word in case something happens, but I give you my complete permission to be rough, call me sweet or dirty names, and use me as nothing but a toy.” 

Toji felt his blood simmer as he envisioned the many ways he could have you folded. “I agree, the safe word can be peach because you taste like one and smell like it too, also if we do it at a restaurant or something you can throw your water on me, I know that’s something you’ve always wanted to do to someone.” He leaned in stealing your breath with a deep kiss. 

“You are so trying to get sucked and fucked tonight, but I’m so sleepy.” You murmured with a soft giggle as Toji moved you both to cover you and him up with the comforter tucking you in his side and making sure you were resting your head on his chest letting his heartbeat lull you into a deep sleep. 

—----------

Morning came all too quickly. 

Sun filtered through the open curtains spilling into the room bathing it in a warm golden light waking you up and snuggling back in Toji’s arms. You knew that during the night you and him ended up back to back fighting for the covers, and then in the morning he pulled you back on his warm chest. 

“Good morning darlin’,” Toji murmured with a smile in his voice as he gave your ass a good squeeze making you squeal and roll out of his arms rolling your eyes playfully as you picked up his shirt from the floor pulling it on. 

Toji followed after you clad in his boxers sure to grab you again pulling you into his chest and kissing you before letting go watching as you started on the coffee while he pulled out leftovers for breakfast. “When do you want to do your little roleplay?” He asked heating the food as you made both cups. 

You hummed softly curling your toes. “I’m not sure, maybe next weekend? I need to read the book some more.” 

“I have it off and you’ll need to recover from Friday night.” He told you with a grin as you turned around to look at him with love and adoration. 

Both of you ate together, letting him feed you here and there before he went outside to work on the shed for the background while you cleaned up and joined him shortly after with your book curling up on the couch reaching for your joint from last night lighting it while leaning back picking up from your spot. 

Toji couldn’t help but glance at you, nearly cutting off a digit when you turned on your side which caused his shirt to slide up exposing the curve of your bare ass that caused his cock to swell forgetting the whole reason why he was out here, unbeknownst to you he stalked quietly up to you when you laid on your belly. 

Your eyes were trained intently on the words, you and Toji replacing the actions the characters were doing. Currently, the male lead was stalking his ex after the encounter, something he wasn’t able to forget but it seemed she could and that ignited him to go to plan B, kidnapping her. 

“Oh!” You gasped when you felt Toji slide his hands under your hips lifting high in the air and pushing the shirt down to pool at your head while he kneeled behind you kissing the curve of your ass making you moan and shudder feeling his tongue glide over your pussylips like a ghost. 

Toji spread your cheeks open pulling away to watch your holes clench simultaneously making him chuckle, he ran his finger up the seam of your pussy playing lightly with your slick entrance. “Read out loud sweetheart, you stop what you’re doing and I stop and I think we both don’t want that, do we?” 

“‘His Adam's apple bobbed as his eyes followed Anna, her hair swished back and forth mostly from her forgetting a hair tie this morning before her run. The black strands were just wrapped around his fist last night remembering how she sucked his cock—Toji!” You whined pushing back in his face panting. 

His tongue rimmed your cunt before sucking on your clit as his fingers massaged the fat of your ass pulling you closer trying to suffocate himself in your essence as you tried your best to stutter out another sentence feeling the tingles deep in your gut spreading into your veins making you hazy. 

Thick fingers slid inside your wet cunt with a loud squelch as Toji tongued your pussy while pumping in and out in quick succession moaning softly while feeling his cock throb and pulse at how good you tasted, like the sweetest candy he’s ever had. 

You gripped the couch cushion letting your eyes flutter shut as pleasure took over feeling your orgasm rise and crash over you while moaning your husband's name over and over like a soft prayer to your salvation. 

His addiction to you and yours to him made it hard to finish the rest of the book as you found yourself between his legs while he sat man-spread where you just were while gagging on the length of his dick, slurping and licking the tip before kissing your way down to his sack sucking on it gently. 

Toji felt like he was in heaven when you deepthroated him not breaking eye contact as his cock pulsed sending jets of thick and warm cum over your face when you pulled him out of your mouth letting him coat you in his essence. 

It didn’t take long for you to both get in the shower cleaning each other off before making your way into the kitchen for some lunch enjoying your days off before going to work tomorrow. 

======================================================

Each day passed by and you texted Mai, Hana, and Amy in your group chat asking if the four of you could meet up knowing the other two had left the bookclub and friend group. 

You wanted to tell them all about your dirty secret because it felt like you were heating up from the inside out and during work, you finished the book unable to help yourself. 

It wasn't something that happened often, only when the words pulled you in and between staying up after Toji went to bed knowing he’d want you to get some rest but it was difficult to put it down when you got to a good part. 

An hour after work you found yourself nestled next to Mai while you and her sat across from Hana and Amy sharing a plate of food. “So, I finished the book.” You announced with a small grin earning a collective gasp from them. 

“It’s only been three days! It’s a seven-hundred-and-something-page book!” Amy squealed gathering the attention of nearby tables, she apologized and sucked on her straw keeping her head down. 

Mai snorted with laughter and rolled her eyes. “I’m not surprised, let me guess you and Mr. Perfect are going to play something out in there?” She asked already knowing how the gears turn in your head. 

Hana’s face burned a bright pink as you told them in a pg-thirteen rating of what you and Toji had planned this weekend. “Are you going to break up in public? What if someone you know sees?” She questioned. 

“It’s none of their business even if they do, and again it sounds like you want them to break up. You do know that is her husband?” Mai shot back glaring at Hana who sputtered as all three of you looked at her. 

She nodded her head and blushed, her creamy complexion was a dark red. “I don’t mean it like that, I don’t want people to start rumors. You know how people can be.” Hana defended herself before taking a sip of her drink. 

Mai glanced at you with a skeptical look on her face and a slight I told you so when Amy cleared her throat. You leaned in to gaze at Hana. “I don’t care if they do or not, and I don’t know why you care so much. I hope you know that Toji would never break out vows nor does he even like you like that.” 

“I don’t want him! I want you!” Hana cried out, her hazel eyes were wild as they widened when her mind caught up with what she just said out loud. 

Mai’s jaw dropped as she tried to process the bomb Hana dropped. “Is that why you stared at her when she was wearing shorts? You want to fuck her!?” She asked and threw her head back howling with laughter at the situation. 

You sat there letting the news sink in for a moment unsure how to respond. “I—I got to go home, I’ll see you later.” Everyone watched as you scrambled out of the booth and to your car all but peeling out of the parking lot to go home. 

Toji was sprawled out on the couch when you slipped inside the living room setting your purse down. “Hana wants to fuck me.” His head snapped toward you as you stood by the couch looking back at him. 

The look on his face as he took in everything made you wince as you sat next to him. “Did she say that?” He asked cocking an eyebrow while taking hold of your hand and kissing it gently. 

“She did, Mai thought she wanted you but she blurted it out tonight that she wants me….and how am I supposed to take that?” You asked exasperated. 

To be honest you weren’t sure if it was better if she liked your husband. 

“I don’t blame her, but I don’t share, and trust me I already had a few coworkers who had their lips busted for even joking about sharing you.” 

Your mouth opened as you stared at your husband playfully slapping and shoving his shoulder, but the mountain of a man barely even moved. “Is that why you came home with sore knuckles?” You asked moving to curl in his lap. 

Toji wrapped you in a tight hug kissing the top of your head. “You’re my baby, I ain’t goin’ to let anyone talk about you like that, but me.” He husked kissing your jaw when you tilted your head up, his tongue tracing down your neck where he sucked on the soft flesh heating your body. 

“My sweet slut who will do anything for her husband, won’t you?” Toji cooed in your ear as his fingers played with the hem of your shirt making you shiver when his tongue traced the shell before nipping the lobe softly making you cry out as you bucked your hips rubbing against his bulge with a moan. 

His words made your face burn with want and you knew Toji would never mean anything of that, he knew what you liked and he wanted to keep you happy. You nodded looking at him with low-lidded eyes as you moved to kneel between his legs palming his bulge before rubbing your face against it. 

The soft material of his sweatpants felt nice against your cheek while you hooked one finger into the band of his pants and boxers to tug it down revealing his cock that slapped against his stomach, heavy and taut. 

He smelled like musk with a hint of sweat and all male, potent too. 

It made your mouth water as you wrapped your finger around the thick shaft unable to touch your tips. “I love seeing you on your knees for me.” Toji groaned watching you while he spread his legs wider to make more room for you. 

You rose on your knees and leaned in to kiss the sticky tip of his cock lapping up the pre-cum that reminded you of a pearl, shimmery and a creamy white that tasted like Toji urging you to suck more of him into your mouth hollowing your cheeks out making sure to pleasure your husband the best you can. 

His head laid back on the back of the couch hearing you gag wetly around his length that choked you when you reached as far as you could go. Your eyes stung with tears as you stuffed more of him feeling your spit bubble thickly around the corner of your lips that dripped down his cock making a mess. 

Toji wanted to see you with a mouthful of his dick so he sat up a little more to look down at you through dark lashes as you jerked off the rest that you weren’t drooling on. “So pretty ‘f me like that, my cute cocksleeve.” 

You moaned letting your eyes flutter shut when you felt Toji slip his hands under your armpits to lift you with ease pulling his cock free from your mouth with a wet pop. “What are you doing?!” You squealed as he laid you on the couch. 

“I’m going to fuck you.” He answered like it was self-explanatory. 

Your mouth opened then closed when you felt your cunt clench around nothing, his fingers danced over your slick heat before using it to lube up his dick. Toji gripped the base of it softly slapping it against your pussy with a smirk watching your face screw up and pout when he barely thrust halfway in. 

With your legs spread obscenely wide Toji pushed them further back until your knees were almost touching your ears as he gripped the back of your thigh huffing and puffing as your warm and wet heat sucked him in. 

He dropped down on his elbows grazing his lips against yours mingling your breaths together as he kissed you deeply, one hand slid under your head and the other went under your ass giving a cheek a soft squeeze as he slowly stroked in and out of you making your head hazy and body soft as putty. 

Toji knew the right spots to hit and what to do to make you cream, so his thumb skated along your hip and soft belly to make tight circles around your clit making you tighten around him and push your chest out more. “T—ohji!” 

Your mouth parted in a small when his mushroom tip kissed your cervix, it was an intoxicating blend of pain and bliss that made you cling tighter to him falling into the throes of pure pleasure as you succumbed to your orgasm. 

========================================================

Ever since that night with your friends, you haven’t talked to Hana, and Amy really but you called Mai every day. “I had no idea that she had the hots for you, do you think she touches herself thinking about you? OH! When you talked about Toji eating you out do you wonder if she wanted to be him?” 

“Why must you ask me those questions? I texted her but I don’t how to feel, I don’t want to lose our friendship because I do love her but I also didn’t want her to fall more in love with me. I don’t even know.” You sighed and scrubbed at your face as you leaned against the counter Friday morning. 

Mai cackled in the background followed by a loud bong rip. “Sorry, wake and bake. I have to before work or I’ll go apeshit crazy on someone, anyway, I know how you feel. Talk to her and let her know that babe.” She hummed followed by a loud hacking sound in your ear making you roll your eyes as you walked out of the kitchen and into the hallway.

“How can you be so silly more times than not but know the right thing to say? And it’s not only his dick that I love, I also love Toji for who he is, I love how he makes me feel, and when I’m having a bad day he just knows.” You gushed cleaning up the mess you made for tonight’s preparation in your bedroom. 

Mai made a fake gagging sound, the same noise she made when you two got married. “Sounds like you love me too. Call her. I’ll see you later because I want all the deets on how he made you his cum slut!” Before you got the chance to say anything else she hung up making you laugh. 

Toji was in the shower when you picked your outfit to wear for breaking up with him, it was a sundress that you knew would drive him nuts. Once you got dressed you stepped into the steamy bathroom just in time for him to get out wrapping his towel around his waist and stopping your movements. 

“You are so sexy and so handsome, I’m not sure how you haven’t gotten sick of me yet with me loving on you all the time.” You told him with a warm genuine smile that made his chest tighten while he stood behind you watching as you styled your hair and put on lip gloss and mascara. 

He couldn’t help himself and rest his hands on your hips popping your ass out a little so he could grind lazily against you. “Because I like it, especially when you’re so needy for me, I love how obsessed you are with me because I feel the same way.” You watched in the mirror as he snaked one arm around your waist. 

His lips trailed up your neck not breaking eye contact as he kissed up your throat and shoulder fingering the strap to your dress. “You’re a minx.” He groaned deeply inhaling your natural musk feeling his cock grow and swell. 

You did too as he pulled you impossibly closer leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses that left you a quivering and shivering mess as he pulled away with a chuckle. 

“Why are you breakin’ up with me? I fucked your sister or somethin’?” Toji asked as you followed him to the bedroom for your shoes and to spray on his favorite perfume. He wanted to know what the fake reason was. 

You laughed and rolled your eyes as you grabbed your shoes and sat on the edge of the bed watching him get dressed in shorts and a loose t-shirt that showcased his corded muscles and bulging biceps you wanted to bite. 

“I don’t even have a sister, besides Mai and she likes women more than men. What if you don’t pay enough attention to me? I could be the one fucking your best friend or something?” You suggested leaning back propping yourself up by your hands as he fixed his hair in the mirror before turning to look at you.

His lips were set in a straight line thinking about you and Shiu. “I think I pay plenty of attention to my pretty girl, am I right?” He asked stepping forward and planting his fists on either side of you to bend down until his face was inches from yours. 

Your eyes searched his feeling your breath hitch in your throat as he smirked pulling away once more making you reach out and slap his ass before scrambling off the bed and toward the living room grabbing your purse and following Toji to the car letting him open your door for you. 

“Remember the safe word? You say that at any time and we stop, I don’t care what it is. You’re breaking up with me because I’m too suffocating and you need a break from me, you get up from the table and get in the car, I’ll call a taxi home to make it feel really real, you’re going on a date with Shiu.” 

Toji explained sounding like he already had this planned out before you even brought it up. “I agree, I think it’s so sexy and hot when you take charge like that.” You cooed leaning over to kiss his jaw tracing his scar before pulling away. 

By the time you both made it to the cafe that you’d never visited before which was a bit out of town your nerves were a bit jumbled as you were seated in a populated area. The waiter sat the drinks down when you inhaled deeply gathering up the courage as you looked at Toji who was leaning back. 

The both of you got into character letting your real selves slip away for a moment. 

His eyes were trained on you and more than anything you wanted to lean in and kiss him, tell him how much you love him and how thankful you are that he’s your husband. “We need to break up.” You murmured holding your glass.

Toji leaned in, his face darkening as he absorbed your sentence. “No.” 

You furrowed your eyebrows feeling a stinging sensation deep in your gut, but you knew it wasn’t real, however, even the thought of losing him made you want to cry and lash out. “Yes, you are way too suffocating me. I can’t even have friends over without you getting jealous and I like someone else.” 

Your voice rose a little as you stared back at him reminding you of the fights you had. “Who do you like?” Toji asked completely in character now as his thick fingers drummed atop the table waiting for your answer. 

“Shiu.” 

His eyebrows rose as he whistled low and slow. “My best friend?” 

“Yes, it’s over.” You stated again watching him give the smallest of nods hinting that it was okay for you to throw the water on him. Your hand shook a little as you grabbed the glass which was slippery from the condensation while you pulled your arm back tossing the ice-cold liquid on your husband. 

He stood up quickly knocking over his chair as his grey shirt soaked up the water leaving a dark patch that clung to his abs, this time he gathered everyone's attention. “Sir, is everything okay?” The waiter came up to Toji with a shocked look on his face as he glanced at you watching you stand up fast. 

Without another word and a heart beating way too fast, you scurried to your car, the keys shaking too much for you to get the car unlocked forgetting you could hit the key fob instead, it felt so real and even though you slipped your wedding rings off before heading out you wished you had it with you. 

It took you only twenty minutes to get home and in the door searching for your phone in your purse as you rooted around it checking for a text from Toji. 

Nothing. 

It was growing darker but in the summer months, the sky didn’t turn black until well into the evening and now you had no choice but to wait feeling anxious and excitement build up as you took a shower and ended up in your bedroom sitting in front of your vanity as the minutes ticked by stretching into hours. 

You weren’t sure what Toji was doing to kill his time but it made you restless. 

With no choice but to wait you applied your makeup at your vanity like you were getting ready for a date as you listened to your playlist, the thought of Toji waiting and stalking you made your pussy burn with something new, and the blood in your veins felt thicker and hotter as you shut your eyes hearing the window. 

Too wrapped up in your head you had no idea how much time had passed by when the pane slid open to reveal Toji in a mask, only his eyes and mouth visible which sported a smirk. “Now darlin’, it’s not nice to break a man’s heart and leave him there hanging. You owe me.” He muttered pushing the rest of the window open and climbing through gracefully before towering above you. 

Your mouth dropped open as you stood up from your chair and frowned staying in character. “What are you doing here?! I told you that we’re over!” You all but shouted thankful that you didn’t have any neighbors. 

Toji chuckled darkly and took another step toward you watching as you quickly dodged him and hopped on the bed to bypass him and get out of the bedroom but he was much faster grabbing onto you and tossing you back onto the mattress reaching for his duffle bag you didn’t even pay attention to. 

He sat it on the edge of the bed and unzipped it slowly pulling out pink silk ropes, easy on the skin and in your favorite color too. You lay there frozen in faux fear and real-life desire that made your blood boil. Toji grabbed your ankles suddenly drawing you down the bed causing you to fight him off. 

“Keep struggling, it just makes me want you that much more.” He whispered in your ear as he pinned you to the bed on your belly with your arms behind your back, you felt the soft silk rope weave between your wrists that Toji tied not too tight to hurt but enough that you had to wriggle a bit to take them off. 

His fingers trailed down your thighs lifting your skirt a bit to look at the thong you slid on making him groan. “Oh, princess. You really know how to spoil a man.” Toji moaned, the sound gurgling in his throat as he pushed your legs together and bent your knees at a ninety-degree angle tying you in a hogtie.

Toji was sure to offset your feet slightly so your ankle bones wouldn’t rub against each other causing you pain, it seemed that he did his research. 

You mewled when he stroked your barely clad-pussy for a moment before pulling away. 

With your face buried in the sheets you couldn’t see anything but you could hear Toji digging around in his bag for something, a surprise until the soft hum of the Hitachi wand, one of his favorite things to use on you. 

He tossed it by your head making sure you could see the pink body. 

“No one will ever be able to make you feel as good as I do darlin’, it hurts me that you think you can.” He grunted in your ear as he grabbed the wand moving to kneel behind you, his rough hands lifted your hips before he stuffed a pillow under you keeping your ass high in the air. 

A little maneuvering and you could feel the rubberized head of the toy press against you when suddenly it turned off making you jerk and moan. “Going to make you nice and dumb before I give you what you really want.” 

You tried to buck up and get him off but it was fruitless when his free hand was pinning your shoulder down making it impossible to get up. Toji drug the head between your slick pussylips pressing it more into your clit. 

He kept this up, teasing you by dragging it up and down sometimes pushing it against your quivering hole. “If you want it so bad all you have to do is use your big girl words, can you do that?” Toji asked spread your cheeks open. 

Feeling so exposed you gasped even though he’s fucked every hole he could. 

“I hate you! We’re broken up!” You cried with faux tears that caught Toji’s attention making his dick pulse, his hand came down to swipe away your tears. 

He chuckled and pulled the toy away tossing it on the bed before he untied you, as soon as the last knot was undone you attempted to wiggle up the bed. “Look so pretty while you’re cryin’ for me. If you hated me so much why are you letting me play with you?” Toji husked delivering a soft smack to your rump. 

Toji took his mask off and that was it, keeping himself completely dressed while he ripped your clothes off at the seams making you shriek, the loud sound of fibers being torn filled your ears as you watched him toss the tattered bits to the floor before he untied your hands and ankles. 

He grabbed you again laying you flat on your back as he hovered above you with a crazy smirk. You could read it in his face he didn’t want to hurt you. 

You nodded letting him know you were okay, little checkins to make sure you still wanted this. “I don’t have a choice, you take and take.” You whined trying to push him off you but it was pointless when he pinned your hands above your head. 

Using his free hand he trailed it down your chest groping each breast and tweaking both nipples until he reached your pussy. “Holy hell, you’re so fuckin’ wet.” He was thrown off by how much slick your cunt had produced, making between your thighs a wet mess. 

Toji groaned spreading the wetness before sliding two fingers knuckle deep in making you cry out and lay your head back on the pillow he found a slow pace as his mouth latched around your nipple suckling on it slowly, gently scraping his teeth along the bud while his thumb circled your clit. 

Your mind grew fuzzy at the edges as your lover submerged you in a puddle of pleasure reminding you of spending all day under the hot sun and coming inside to an air-conditioned room feeling instantly at ease. He moved to your other nipple as you threaded your fingers through his hair whining softly. 

Everything about the plan slowly trickled from your brain and out your ear forgetting that it was your idea to begin with, all you wanted was Toji. 

“Please want you so bad, oh please baby just fuck me already, I need to feel you inside me!” You babbled with a teary gaze looking at your husband who met your gaze with your nipple still in his mouth, he pulled away with a wet pop and licked his lips. 

He squeezed your cheeks gently and chuckled watching your lips squish together. “My needy baby, did you forget about our breakup? You broke my heart so now I’m going to break you.” He growled and spread your legs making you gasp at how quickly he was able to move and have you folded. 

Toji groaned palming himself as he kneeled between your thighs and freed his cock with one hand while the other grabbed your ankle gently lifting it for him, the polish on your toes matched you perfectly and so did he. 

You watched with bated breath as he sucked on your big toe, swirling his tongue around it before moving to each toe kissing each one showing his love to each one before kissing the arch of your foot and putting it on his shoulder. 

“Do you know how much I love you?” Toji asked breaking character for a moment as he stared down at you, his massive body blocked most of the light and from where you lay he looked bigger and more imposing. 

You nodded again. 

Toji leaned in with a chuckle gripping your cheeks again gently. “Good, because I’m going to fuck you like I hate you.” He muttered and pulled away to jerk himself off for a few seconds while you wiggled down the bed to catch the head of his cock on the hood of your cunt. 

Your gazes clashed together as he grabbed your hips dragging you on his cock filling you in one thrust making your toes curl hard in his shirt, the other dangled around his waist as he fucked you hard and fast making the bed creak, the headboard hitting the wall with each powerful drive of his hips. 

With each stroke Toji fanned the fire in your belly, your fingers clawed at his back moaning and whining while lifting your hips to meet his thrusts feeling him go deeper that made you gasp stealing away your breath. 

Sweat beaded along his hairline and dripped down on your bare chest, the heat and friction between you both created an inferno of lust and love for each other as he rocked into you wanting to reach your womb almost. 

Toji bent down to capture your lips in a deep kiss claiming your mouth with his tongue sucking on it before nibbling on your bottom lip and pulling away to rest his forehead against yours feeling his orgasm tingle at the bottom of his spine. 

He pulled away and out of your wet cunt with a squelch before Toji was taking your spot then he pulled you back onto the bed and his lap sliding his hands on the back of your sweat-slicked legs to raise them in the air, his fingers rested on the back of your knees as you reached down to hold his arms. 

With immense strength, Toji lifted you and then sat you back down on his cock, in this position your cunt was tighter making his head swim. “You feel so good, I ain’t ever gonna leave my pretty princess alone, why would I when you’re the perfect little slut for me?” He huffed biting your shoulder gently. 

Your head lolled back as he fucked you from below, his sack patting against you wetly which filled the room along with the heavy perfume of sex, a blend of yours and his musk, something that can never be recreated. 

His cock bullied your puffy cunt that sucked him in deeper coating his shaft in a creamy white feeling your orgasm crash over you hard and fast, your eyes fluttered shut as your mind frayed putting you in a trance-like state, this climax felt a lot different as Toji chased his high until he was pumping you full. 

You both stayed like that for several minutes panting and coming down from your high basking in the soft sex glow. “I love you…thank you, baby, that was everything and more than what I wanted.” You husked looking at him. 

He kissed you gently and pulled away to help you off his lap wincing when he pulled out leaving you empty and the sheets a mess. “I love you too, always and forever.” He told you and stepped into the bathroom to draw a bath. 

“Let’s take a bath, order dinner in and I’ll get you a joint.” Toji knew all the ways to make your day and life easier, but after this whole scene, you felt more connected to him than you ever have with anyone else. 

feedback such as comments and reblogs are highly appreciated, those kind words mean a lot and encourage me to do more writing ♡

[wqterlillypdfs]

summer blues

pairing: jeremiah fisher x fem!reader, bestfriend!steven conklin x fem!reader

summary: All summer, you had been in some strange sad limbo, and you had blamed Jeremiah for that. For all the girls he had kissed at every party, for the way he made your heart beat and palms grow clammy. But really, was it his fault when you were the one who pushed him away?

word count: 3.3k

warnings: underage drinking, swearing, general sad thoughts. dumbass idiot jeremiah. unedited!

a/n: i went thru like the full range of emotions writing this fic, idk how i feel abt it but this is my comeback after three months of no writing. anyways, hope u enjoy!! 💞. reblogs are appreciated as always!

The sun sets low, casting a warm glow upon the unfamiliar garden. The air is thick with the hum of laughter and music that drifts from the house, and everything seems perfect. It should be perfect. This is the stuff summer dreams are made of, and yet, you’re sitting on the outdoor furniture, alone, and left to your own devices.

Summer so far has been nothing but longing. You had watched as the one boy who had captured your heart at ten spent days at the beach with girls you didn’t even know the names of. And sure, it’s not like you have anything, not even close. But could you blame yourself? Jeremiah was nothing but perfect Carolina-blue eyes and golden skin. He was your summer dream.

The house party was meant to be a distraction, that’s what Steven had said when he tugged you into his car. It’ll be fun, you need to stop being sad all summer. He was nothing but adamant to make this summer the best yet, especially with the overhanging weight that Conrad and himself would be moving to college next year. Steven had never been fond of change, especially not when it came to summers at Cousins.

Steven had long since abandoned you to dance the night away with pretty girls and hooting boys, so instead here you are, sitting alone at a party, trying to fill the Jeremiah-shaped cavity in your heart with fruity drinks and loud music. 

Jeremiah hadn’t been in sight when you first arrived at the party, and maybe that was a good thing. You could enjoy yourself for once, without your wandering eyes finding him somewhere with his hand on a girl's waist. Even just the thought of it made you sick to your stomach.

But sometime between then and now, he had shown up. Figures. And now you watch as he makes his way out of the big back doors, down the patio steps, past the pool, until he’s sitting with you in the makeshift gazebo, fairy lights sparkling above.

“Hey trouble,” Jeremiah greets as he sits on the plush outdoor sofa next to you, sidled up close enough that he bumps his shoulder with yours in welcome.

“Hey,” you parrot back, not meaning for the obvious buzzkill tone in your voice.

“What’s got you all bummed out?”

“Dunno.” you reply, eyeing the cold drink you’re balancing on your thigh which leaves a cold ring of condensation on your bare skin. “Did Steven send you to get me?”

Jeremiah’s eyebrows draw together in confusion as he cocks his head to the side. “No? Why would he need to? Can I not check up on my favourite girl?”

You let out a bemused snort, running your finger around the brim of your glass, eyes still not meeting his. Maybe you have had too much to drink.

“Come dance with me,” he says instead, hand outstretched, waiting for yours. You let your head fall against the back of the sofa.

“Not in a dancing mood.”

You don’t know if it’s the drinks or if it’s real, but Jeremiah shakes his head, a soft smile gracing his features as he tucks the stray strands of hair that have fallen in front of your face behind your ear. His hand lingers there a few seconds too long.

“What happened to dancing the summer away?” He questions, and when you finally look up to meet his eyes, he’s much closer than you expected.

“I was fifteen when I said that,” you note, which was almost two years ago now. How does he remember these things?

Jeremiah doesn’t respond immediately so you take your eyes off him, instead you watch the house glow to life, light filling the windows as the dark night begins to blanket the sky. The garden itself is empty with most of the party opting to escape the summer heat by seeking shelter indoors. A few girls are busy by the poolside, and you notice one of them keeps diverting her gaze back to where you and Jeremiah are sitting. Typical.  It was like every girl in Cousins was obsessed with the prospect of at least one of the Fisher boys taking fancy in them. Was it bad that it always made you jealous? Everyone who sees him, wants him, and you wish you could keep him as just yours.

“You have an admirer,” you point out, nodding to the girl by the pool. You must admit, she’s gorgeous. Pretty brown eyes and gorgeous hair that even when wet seems to frame her face perfectly. You slink further down in your seat.

Jeremiah simply rolls his eyes at you. “Well she is pretty.” 

And you know he means it as a joke. Can tell by the stupid grin and the tone of his voice. But the words are still like a dagger to your heart, twisting and turning until you can barely breathe - and oh God, you need to get out of here and away from him. 

You set the drink down by the sofa, it meets the wooden deck with a too-loud clink before you stand abruptly. You brush down the skirt that had ridden up your legs as the ring of water on your thigh left behind by the glass soaks the edges of it. “I need to go,” is all you can murmur out.

“No, wait-” Jeremiah begins, standing to follow you.

“It’s fine,” you push, faux niceties lacing your voice, smiling as much as the ache in your chest will let you. You can feel the frown on his face burn into your back as you turn to leave, but you choose to ignore it, instead making your way back into the large lively house.

As you pass the pool though, the girl who has been eyeing Jeremiah gets up with a giddy look on her face, she calls to him in a sweet honeyed voice and it makes you sick. 

You climb the patio steps, making your way through the lavish interior of the house.

You push through the crowd of people within the house. You just need a moment to yourself, to gather your thoughts and figure out just what the fuck was going on with you. Carefully, you slip into the bathroom, pushing the door shut with the weight of your body before leaning against the sink. You take deep breaths, trying to calm the beating of your heart.

All summer, you had been in some strange sad limbo, and you had blamed Jeremiah for that. For all the girls he had kissed at every party, for the way he made your heart beat and palms grow clammy. But really, was it his fault when you were the one who pushed him away?

Being in love with Jeremiah Fisher was anything but easy, not when you had to dance around the intricate friendship that had blossomed since you were eight years old. You didn’t know what love was until you were fifteen, sitting on the pier with him as you skidded rocks across the ocean. When he had smiled that smile and his eyes sparkled like the entire cosmos was within them. From that very moment on, you were doomed. Every brush of his hand against yours felt like a calculated step, and it was your fault for deluding yourself into believing he had space in his heart for anything more than a friendship with you.

It’s only a million times worse when you’re as close with him as you are, casual flirting and lingering touches was nothing but the norm. So it was especially difficult when he’d grab your hand and lead you through a crowd, or whisper some stupid inside joke just for you in a crowded room, when such a simple touch set your body alight with sparks. 

“Knock knock,” you hear the door open softly, Steven’s head poking through. You had forgotten to lock the door, you realise. “Jeremiah thinks you're mad at him.” He informs, voice careful and soft as he closes the door behind him, making his way to you and placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

You shake your head, unable to find the words to express the turmoil within yourself. Instead, you offer a weak smile letting out a shaky exhale. “Well, I’m not.”

Steven looks amused as he leans with his back against the sink next to you, tilting his head so it falls into your field of vision. “You sure?”

“Very sure.” You confirm.

“I think you’re lying.”

You take another breath, “I’m not mad, i’m just…” your voice trails off as you try to find the words.

“Angry, confused, sad?” Steven offers.

You shake your head as you poke his shoulder, “would you let me speak?”

“Yes ma’am, sorry ma’am,” he throws his hands up in surrender.

“I’m just… tired,” you say, defeated. Steven gives you an apologetic look. He’s known about your not-so-little crush on Jeremiah. How could he not when he seemed to be the only person who could light you up when you were dim and down? 

“I’m tired of having to watch him go out with other girls every other day. I mean it’s not like we’re exclusive - we’re definitely not - but I just wish I didn’t feel like throwing up everytime.”

For a second, Steven doesn’t say anything, he looks at you with those eyes he does when he’s thinking. “What’s that thing Susannah always says?”

“What?”

“About…” He blows out his bottom lip as he struggles to remember the words, “about how love is like a flower, it needs time to grow and blossom and you need to nurture it.”

You pause, before cracking a smile. “Never in a million years would I have even imagined you quoting one of Susannah’s cheesy pieces of romance advice.”

Steven rolls his eyes at you, but he can’t help the smile that creeps up on him too. “Look, the point is, love isn’t supposed to be easy. Like, at all. But you really like Jeremiah, and I get it, he can really suck sometimes, especially with the whole hooking up thing,” - he looks up at you as he finishes his sentence, - “but if you love him as much as you let on, you’ve gotta just go for it. You need to stop pushing him away because of your irrational fear.”

Shaking your head, you turn fully to face Steven, crossing your arms defensively across your chest. “Okay, it’s not irrational, it’s completely rational. What if I just end up ruining everything? That’s a super real possibility. I don’t want to lose Jeremiah as a friend, and the risk of running that possibility is way too high.”

“God,” Steven lets out through a sigh, he looks like he wants to strangle you. “Listen to yourself! Maybe if you haven’t been moping around all summer you’d be able to see it.”

“See what?”

“Just go out there and talk to the boy.”

“This’d be a lot easier if you just told me.”

“I think you’d appreciate me a lot more if you figured it out for yourself.” Steven tells you, and he says it in a way that leaves little room to bicker back. He gives you an encouraging nod and a soft smile and for a minute you think he’ll say another stupid thing like go get ‘em tiger! But he graces you with silence and leaves you alone in the small bathroom.

You look back at yourself in the mirror. Maybe Steven is right. 

‧₊˚☆༉‧₊˚.

Jeremiah is sitting on the steps of the patio when he hears the sliding glass doors open and shut and the shuffle of Steven’s old sneakers. Immediately, his head swivels so he’s facing his long-time best friend. “So what’d she say? Is she mad?” He blurts out immediately.

“Woah, slow down lover-boy,” Steven says, amusement in his tone. He takes a seat next to Jeremiah, placing his hands either side of himself. “Well, she’s not happy.”

“What the fuck, bro,” Jeremiah grumbles, “you were meant to deescalate the situation.”

“Actually no, I was checking up on my friend, who I care about, and who I haven’t been dancing around all summer long.” Steven corrects.

Jeremiah looks away, unamused, “okay I get it. I haven’t been the best person to her lately.”

“Really?” Steven gasps, faux surprise lacing his tone, “You’ve been avoiding her like the plague and hanging around with random girls like you want her to be upset.”

“I don’t!” Jeremiah is quick to retort. “I’m just…”

“You’re just being a dick.”

“That’s not fair-”

“Look man, I’m not trying to upset you either, but I really don’t get why you’re so scared to confront your feelings. You like her, you like her a lot and it’s so fuckin’ obvious.”

Jeremiah opens his mouth, ready to argue back, but Steven leaves no room for it.

“She literally craves your attention and you’re out here, making out with other girls like she’s not right there. Is this some weird attention grab sort of thing? What, are you trying to make her jealous? This isn’t like you, Jere.”

Steven’s words cut deep. So deep Jeremiah thinks they’ve scarred him, but maybe it’s for the best. No, it’s definitely for the best. 

“Think about it,” is the last thing Steven says, before he stands up, giving Jeremiah a reassuring pat on the back, and disappears into the crowd of party-goers within the house.

‧₊˚☆༉‧₊˚.

When you finally feel ready enough to leave the bathroom, you think for a moment about Steven’s words. They kick around in your head. You chuckle to yourself, who knew you’d ever be taking legitimate advice from Steven? But instead of confronting your problems like you should, you pour yourself another drink, turning on your heels as you ascend the glossy white stairs. Whoever’s house this is - in the words of Steven himself - they’re fucking loaded. 

The upstairs of the house is empty, albeit a few straggling couples making out in the hallway. You ignore them, noticing the gorgeous open balcony that conjoins to the hallway you’re currently walking down. It’s quiet and empty, a perfect place to spend the rest of the night in peace.

The moon hangs low in the sky now, reflecting off the ocean ahead, and as you step out onto the balcony the cool Summer night’s air bites at your skin. 

It's a glorious view for what should’ve been a perfect night. Laughter and music wafts up from the party below, and you let out another regretful sigh, your heart heavy with the weight of unspoken words. As your eyes linger on the ocean, you hear the sound of approaching footsteps. You turn to see Jeremiah standing beside you, and when you look at him, he gives you that sweet smile.

“Hey trouble,” he begins, “you alright?”

You shrug, turning your back to the balcony as you slide your back down the railing, slumping to the floor with your knees tucked under your chin. “Trying to be.”

“Wanna tell me what’s wrong?”

Jeremiah with such a soft voice felt unnatural, and a part of you felt guilty for rendering him so quiet. Silence stretches between both of you like a chasm, as you struggle to find the right words within you to tell him how you truly felt. Instead, Jeremiah fills the silence, his voice hesitant but filled with a quiet determination. “I’m sorry.”

You gave him a perplexed look, “what are you apologising for?”

“For this entire summer,” he says, sitting on the ground next to you as he takes the cool glass from your hands, fingers brushing yours, before he places it on the ground. You tilt your head, curiosity in your eyes as you wait for him to continue.

“I’ve been an asshole. Like, bigtime, and I'm really sorry.” He takes a deep breath, takes your hand in his carefully, softly, like you’re something to be worshipped. To him you are. “And, I… need to tell you something.”

You look up at him, heart racing with anticipation, “what is it?” you all but murmur.

He takes a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. “I just-” and when he can’t find the right words, because how is he meant to compress everything he’s ever felt for you into one sentence? It’s impossible. He instead uses his actions. 

His hands untangle from yours, grabbing the sides of your face before pulling you into a kiss. He kisses you. He kisses you and the world falls away and there’s nothing but him. At first, you don’t know what to do, it’s all so sudden, but when it finally registers, you want to cry. Not sad tears, and not entirely tears of joy either, tears of relief, tears that carry the weight of all your longing.

When he finally pulls away you’re quick to pull him back, holding him as close as humanly possible as you kiss him with all the fervour you can muster, hoping and praying he can taste the apology on your lips. But when it gets too much, and you need air, you pull away again. He looks at you, and you hold onto the fabric of his shirt tighter because this all feels like a dream.

“She isn’t you.” He murmurs, soft enough it could be carried away by the summer breeze.

“What?” you whisper back, as to not break the sacred quietness.

“She's. Not. You. None of them are, none of them could even dream of being you. They’re not funny like you, not gorgeous like you. They don’t know me like you do - Shit, I sound like a sap.”

You chuckle, “no, please do continue.”

He shoots you that heartstopping grin. “Oh, so you do like it when I flatter you?”

“Love it,” you answer, mirroring his grin.

His features soften for a second, and again, the apologies cascade from his lips. “I’m sorry, for being such an asshole. You deserve so much better than me, I’ve been the worst, and I didn’t mean to make you upset or jealous, I was just… nervous. God, you make me so nervous I do the dumbest shit.”

“I make you nervous?” You can’t help the disbelief in your voice.

“Like you wouldn’t believe.” He says, nothing but sincere. He smiles then, and that makes all of it worthwhile. 

You don’t know for how long you manage to get lost in him, but when your thoughts begin to wander, you let the thoughts flow freely from your lips. “Remember when we were ten,” you say, recounting the memory that started this all, “we had snuck out to the beach. We got home so late that night, and we tried to sneak back in, but of course that never works with Susannah. She had said something like-”

“No more sneaking out for the both of you,” Jeremiah continues, “she said we’d had too much fun.”

“But we did it anyway.” You finish, dumbfounded that he remembers that at all. “How do you remember all these things?”

“Because it’s you.” He says it like it’s obvious by now. His pretty blue eyes don’t leave yours for even a second. “I don’t think I’ve loved anyone the way I love you.”

You look at him with that stellar smile he loves so much, but before he can speak, you’re interrupted by the familiar presence of the boy who played cupid. 

Steven shakes his head, clear amusement in his eyes. "Finally,” he breathes out, as if it pained him to see the both of you dance around each other all summer. It probably did. His hands are wrapped around a cool glass, it’s empty. “I think this has been quite a night.”

You nod, blissful, turning to meet Jeremiah’s blue eyes. They speak volumes in themselves, a deep ocean blue that sparkles with some form of admiration, you can’t quite figure it out. “Let’s get outta here,” he says, pushing himself off the balcony floor as he extends a hand for you to take, which you do.

Maybe, this summer could be perfect after all.

‧₊˚☆༉‧₊˚.

general tag list: @thatfangirl42

tsitp tag list: @seaveysoceaneyes @fens-mire @thatonefangirl444

if u wanna be added or removed from my general taglist, or a specific fandom taglist just let me know!

[arielthedaydreamer]

The world would be a better place if cis people understood the concepts of gender euphoria and dysphoria as things that everyone experiences, not just trans people.

The woman is not wearing makeup and a short skirt for male attention. She is doing that because it gives her gender euphoria as a woman.

On a more serious note, if a man doesn't feel comfortable to wear a pink shirt; eat a pink ice cream; listen to a female singer who is popular; express his feelings; drink fruity juices; hold his girlfriend's purse; say certain words; act with kindness towards his loved ones; apologize; deescalate conflict; watch a movie enjoyed by women; play with a small and fluffy animal; because he thinks these things make him look girly, less manly or "nor a real man", that is no way to live. That man is experiencing intense levels of gender dysphoria and he needs help.

I feel like people only look at men like that and laugh and call them sexist. Some of them might be and they need to be called out for it, but I feel like gender dysphoria is very common in cis men and we should be calling it what it is.

A cis man doesn't "feel uncomfortable" when he paints his nails for the first time, he gets dysphoric. Just like the cis woman who wears jeans during summer because she forgot to shave her legs and is embarassed about it.

Dysphoria happens to cis people, All. The. Time. Pass the message on.

[hanjisungslag]

attack on titan headcanons #11

synopsis: when aot characters get drunk🍺

characters involved: eren, mikasa, armin, jean, connie, sasha reiner, bertolt, annie, levi, erwin and hange

notes: exams are finally over and its SUMMAA so i switched up my theme, rip coquette hanjisungslag u will b missed x

☆ eren jaeger

loves a strong bow and a corona on a warm summers day x

is a lightweight

one beer and he is off his rocker

gets hyper in several different ways, happy, giggly, angry etc.

passed out by 22:00

☆ mikasa ackerman

she’s a cider girlie!!

loves a remodelling & kopparberg (strawberry & lime and mixed fruits specifically)

tries some people’s gins and vodkas and it ain’t for her

she’s a lightweight too

she’s so shocked how hard it hits her

she’s a lot more chatty and giggly

goes red in the cheeks > <

☆ armin arlert

he tries beer. doesn’t like san miguel. hates stella.

will take a corona on a sunny day though…

but he likes a cider!

he looovveesss any fruity drinks

he’s not a lightweight or heavyweight, good middle ground

gets sooo chatty

the type of drunk to info dump on you / talk about their special interests

☆ jean kirsten

drinks mostly everything. strongbow, cider, maybe be cheeky and have a rum!

also tequila tbh

he’s a bit of a lightweight tbh

but he refuses to admit it 😭

he’s a chill drunk, he’ll sit and chat and drink

but bro is RAVENOUS like he will eat a fuckin buffet and a half afterwards.

spends more money on food than actual drink

☆ sasha braus

AH SHE LOVES A PITCHER FROM SPOONS X

her, ymir and historia deffo get some refreshing, fruity pitchers between em all.

they’re literally just girls… 😖

she’s a lightweight duhhh!!

she’s 100% busting a move on the dance floor

there’s also a liability.

and she is that liability. she is constantly running off

☆ connie springer

 MY GUY IS A VODKA MAN I SAID IT

he gets sooo drunk

like i’m talking running away with sasha, doing karaoke, dancing, chatting to EVERYONEE

THE no 1. yapper when drunk

by the end of the night he was 10 new best friends, invited to three weddings and several after parties.

he’s deffo the one who ends up being sick but he’s so ready to drink afterwards😭(don’t let him)

☆ reiner braun

heavyweighhhhttt

he starts off with ‘man’ drinks like san miguel, stella etc.

HOWEVAA i know this man loves a voddy and coke and gin.

i just know when this man is pissed and wants another one he is getting his bloody pink gin

he’s rizzing people up sooo hard like reiner stawp 😜

he’s so sweet and pookie when drunk like he’s just chatting and hugging all his friends

☆ bertolt hoover

actually loves a san miguel

everyone’s so surprised by this?

he’s also a heavyweight

he’s tall ok, more of him to get drunk

when he’s drunk HES A TALKERR

it’s like it’s all been built up and now he’s exploding with words and conversations

deffo says way too much for his liking and regrets it deeply in the morning.

expect an apology message in the morning (even tho he has nothing to apologise for, bless)

☆ annie leonhart

heavy weight

this girl is on vodkas with lemonade hmk x

when she’s drunk she’s soo red

she’ll find someone to just sit and chill with

doesn’t want to embarrass herself or bring attention to herself.

she’s so funny when she’s drunk

pulls out ALL the stops when it comes to jokes

she’s always giggling at everyone doing some dumb shit

☆ levi ackerman

heavy weight!

he doesn’t drink much anyways

but if he is, its whiskey or tia maria in some coffee

he’s usually the one watching everyone, not getting too drunk

making sure no one is dead x

but he always ends up tipsy at the least

although he’s supposed to be baby sitting

he cant help but slightly smirking at anything anyone says.

☆ erwin smith

heavy weight once again

doesn’t like to get too drunk

he’s an old man now cmon

my man is drinking wine like merlot, pino, etc

he’s so elegant when drinking

but by the end of the night his hair is messed up baddd

he says loads of stuff and regrets it.

obviously it’s nothing too extreme but just him being silly

gets super sleepy though. wine drunk 🙁

☆ hange zoë

SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS

literally adores shots

just goes crazy on them tbh

after an hour, they’re buying shots for EVERYOONNNEEE

definitely broke by the end of the night.

has to start giving themselves a limit every time they go out

ANYWAYS an absolute party animal

hitting up the clubs

hitting the DANCE FLOOR DUH!

[carelessflower]

Tmi gang and the perfumes they would use

your local tmi brained has come back with another analysis. this thread considered multi facets into picking a specific sense for each character, from their personality, occupation to their financial background. and feel free to add in any perfume you think also fit these characters 💖

Alec

Starting off with our beloved consul. After marrying into wealth and slowly moving away from the battlefield and into the office, Alec develops a penchant for light, comforting scents, thinking white floral, peony, and smell of freshly washed fine cashmere sweater. Note the sandalwood, through the influence of his husband

Magnus

The ever-elusive high warlock of Brooklyn. Gorgeous, exquisite taste. Say you can’t afford him and everyone knows it. Magnus loves a rich gourmand with bits of kick, much like his chaotic personality. He's a party boy at heart, but that family side sure brings out the sweetness

Clary

Clary is like the turning point between spring and summer. Windy enough for a lazy picnic. Floral but not too sweet. She needs something fresh, to roll out of bed every morning for shadowhunter training, art class, and then the occasional demon-hunting date night

Jace

The golden boy your parents warn you about. Is that the beast or the fallen angel? Can be seen either shirtless or sticking by his armies of worn leather jackets, Jace has no qualms about attracting eyes everywhere he goes. He would smell like he instigates a fight in some sleazy crowded bar, and win

Izzy

Classic. Feminine. Seductive. The fantasy of every man's dream. Vanilla, almond, and tropical fruits, it is as delicious as it get. But beware behind the sweetness, her sharp whip and sharper heels, ready to crush anyone and everyone getting in her way. And it would be an honor

Simon

He doesn’t know much about perfume but got this as a prank and refuses to stop using it unironically. He also thinks its' citrus and salt help with the sweat after training and band practice. He’s lucky Izzy happens to like his natural musky scent beneath all the spray

+ (2) BONUS

Alternative pick for Alec

Still his favorite white floral, but there's more push for fresh and fruity

Alternative pick for Magnus

A million different smells at once, smokey and sexy

tag list: @magnus-the-maqnificent @literallytypogod @hoezier-than-thou @sociallyineptbibliophile @queenlilith43

@khaleesiofalicante @wandererbyheart @raziyekroos @onetimetwotimesthreetimess @alexandergideonslightwood @andrwminward

@noah-herondale-lightwood @elettralightwood @dustandducks @deliciousdetectivestranger @delightfullyterrible

@letsgofortacos

@kita-no @thelightofthebane @secrettryst @goldendreams3 @cityofdownwardspirals

@stupidfuckindinosaur

@i-have-not-slept @rinadragomir @potato-jem @kasper-tag @cam-ryt

@banesapothecary

[stansangel]

Summer Heat

Author's Note: This is my first fic so pls ignore the bad writing! Anyways I hope you enjoy this, I might write a part 2 if this does well!! (Or if one person likes it) Prompt: You meet young Stan Pines at a bar in the middle of no where. (Thank you to my bestie for giving me this prompt I hope I did it justice) Warnings: drinking, alcohol, young stan being a flirt. 16+ content at the end (it gets a lil freaky in his car but nothing smutty)

READER AND STAN ARE 21+ IN THIS FIC Word Count: 911

It was a warm summer night and you and your friends had decided to go to a bar they had heard about from. Unbeknownst to you this bar was in the middle of fucking no where. Despite having no idea where you found yourself you enjoyed the night singing, dancing, and drinking with your friends. You had been out for a few hours now and your friends had been lost to the night, some being blacked out in various booths around the bar and others having left with guys they met. 

You sat on a stool at the bar swirling your drink in your hand and resting your head on the other mentally arguing with yourself if you should see the rest of the night out or if you should just call a taxi to get you home. As you sat deep in thought you felt someone slide onto the stool next to you and you mentally groaned not ready to deal with another drunk random this late into the night. Before you could even look over to see who it was a deep voice spoke, interrupting your thoughts. “Hey Toots,” the voice said

You quickly turned in surprise upon hearing the voice, far too desperately than you’d like to admit hoping that the person it came from was as attractive as his voice. You looked at the man next to you and God, he was. You stared for a moment before mentally cursing yourself for not saying anything.

“You got a staring problem hon.” He said nonchalantly.

You finally mustered up the courage to say something back.

“S-sorry-” you stuttered out.

God you were fucking stupid. Sorry?! THAT’S the best you could come up with when this gorgeous man was sitting next you AND talking to you? As you continued to berate yourself for the awkward first impression, he spoke up again.

“‘S alright doll, got no issue with it when a pretty gal like you is the one staring” 

You felt your cheeks heat up and you let out an awkward giggle. 

“How’s about I buy you a drink, doll? That okay with you?” he asked. “Yeah.. that’d be great, thank you.” you said, trying to maintain a calm facade. 

You completely forgot about the drink you already had and let him order you and himself a round of drinks. 

“So you got a name or should I just keep throwin’ around pet names?” he asked while chuckling.

“Y/N. My name is Y/N.” you said, way too quickly for your comfort but luckily it didn’t seem to make him any less interested. He thought it was adorable how flustered you’d seem to have gotten and it boosted his ego with every word you spoke.

“That’s a pretty name darlin’” He said with a smirk

You felt heat rise to your cheeks again before you mumbled out a thank you.

“‘Course babe. I’m Stanley, go by Stan though.” He said to you.

The drinks are set in front of the two of you and you take a sip pleasantly surprised by the fruity drink that hit your lips, you look at his and notice that he ordered himself something different.

“Is it good? I assumed you didn’t drink whiskey like me so I got ya something sweet. Just like ya.” He said smiling .

You nodded and thanked him. 

“So what’s a pretty thing like yourself doing here all alone?” He asked with an eyebrow quirked.

“Oh.. I came here with friends but they’ve all gone off to do their own thing.” You say feeling a bit upset your friends left you to your own devices.

He looked at you sympathetically noticing your expression.

“Hey it’s alright doll, you got me to keep ya company,” He said as he flashed you a smile. “Plus I doubt any of your friends bought you a drink tonight like I did.” He gestured to the drink in front of you. 

You giggled and nodded. “I guess you’re right.” You spent a couple more hours chatting with Stan and sipping on drinks he so generously bought for you.

“Hey, whaddaya say we get outta here? I could take you back to my place.” He smirked as he proposed the idea.

“I’d like that a lot.” You said smiling.

He got up and extended his arm out for you to take and you did, you clung to his arm gently as he guided you out of the bar and to his car, a beautiful red El Diablo. He opened the passenger door for you and closed it once you got in before jogging around to the other side of the car and getting in. You watched as he started the ignition and began driving. 

As the two of you made your descent back to his house you let his hand rest on your thigh while his other expertly drove the car down the empty streets. You stopped at a red light which was taking seemingly forever to turn green when he turned to you and kissed you. It wasn’t soft or sweet. It was feverish and needy. You kissed him back with the same fervor he did, teeth clashing against each other. His hand traveled from your thigh to your hair and tangled in your locks pushing you closer to him. He pulled away breathless, lips swollen from the kiss and lust filling his eyes.

This was going to be a long night.

[bluejutdae]

•  Stray Kids as specific types of tea | OT8

Chan

Apricot brandy black tea — natural brandy flavor and apricots, sweet, fruity with late summer notes. Dark, coppery color. Moderate in caffeine.

Minho

Gyokuro green tea — rich, oceanic flavor and subtle sweetness. Bright green color. Low in caffeine.

Changbin

Lemon mate tea — light and grassy taste with citrus and vegetal notes, energetic. Yellowish green color. High in caffeine.

Hyunjin

Tieguanyin oolong tea — clean, sharp, with notes of citrus and orchid. A hint of sweetness and a buttery finish. Pale golden color. Moderate in caffeine.

Jisung

Earl Grey lavender and honey black tea — soothing, aromatic, refreshing if cold or iced. Dark, coppery color. Moderate in caffeine.

Felix

Caramel Pu-erh tea — dark, rich, sweet finish for the caramel, earthy. Also called "desert in a cup", perfect for a cozy afternoon. Dark reddish color. Moderate in caffeine.

Seungmin

Blueberry and pomegranate white tea — fruity, bright, tart, fresh. Good either hot or iced. Golden pink color. Low in caffeine.

Jeongin

Lychee purple tea — with apple and pineapple hints, fruity and fresh. Sweet with tropical notes. Violet color. Low in caffeine.

*not what they like or drink, but just what I associate them with.

[4mmo]

𝓁𝑜𝓌 𝓁𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉𝓈

꒰ Bartender Dabi x male reader ꒱ ˎˊ˗

Wc - N/A rlly short (unfinished/scrap)

Warnings - none (unfinished/scrap)

Notes- I said in like November I’d come out with something and it’s now 2024.. ( `−ㅿ−´) this is what I was writing but I haven’t been liking anything I write at all recently and it’s making it difficult for me. (Bare with me please!!) thought I might come back to this later if you all like the idea. Until I’m able to write a full fic, I think I’ll just be posting ideas n seeing what you all like!

-

Loud is the first thing that comes to mind when you step out of the cab looking around at the dark exterior of the club. Cool summer night air surrounds you, stars sparking in the sky behind the large building. Muffled music emits from the building as you can see the dark red glow of the lights spill from the main entrance. The unique building is such a contrast from the scenic nature around it. Trees stretch up, almost blending into the dark color of the sky. You walk to the entrance, getting into a line. It wasn’t long, it honestly went by pretty fast. The combination of colognes and perfumes mixed together, making a fruity scent come off from the line of people.

The 2 girls in front of you get in and you’re about to follow them, but a bouncer grabs you by your forearm, pulling you to face him. Dark eyes study your face, eyeing you before asking for ID. his eyes look over you once more after looking at your ID. The man quickly hands back the card, muttering something along the lines of you can go.

Loud music welcomes you along with the smell of alcohol and perfume. A quick once over of the place definitely shows why it’s the best club to go to recently. It had only opened 7 months ago but they place really was on a different level than the other places in that area.

Your friend had bought you this outfit, suggesting you should go out to the club with a few others. It was a birthday gift for you, and quite expensive at that. You only tried it on just before you got here, realizing it was a little small on you. The bottom of the dress cutting off just below your ass. It was still wearable but risky for being in public, though the place you were going wasn’t the type of place to be shocked seeing people wear almost nothing.

The thin jacket you grabbed on the way out was definitely unnecessary. It was warm in the building, bodies close together, people dancing and grinding on one another. Skin touching and guiding hands taking people up and down stairs. The bar has tons of people in the area. People chatting n groups, talking about whatever. Others holding drinks for their friends that have drifted away from them.

Your eyes drifted towards an empty seat by the bar. It wasn’t too enticing but the pretty boy working the counter definitely was. His Dark tuffs of hair, inky, a large contrast to his bright eye, an almost sea glass color. His eyes always looked tired in a sense. Strong hands wiped down the counter as he looked around, trying to see if anyone was coming by. His hands looked worn and definitely bigger than yours. They looked rough, callused, and well used.

You sit down near him at the bar before you could even process that your feet were moving. He notices you walking towards the bar, giving a nod towards you as his eyes locked with yours. a small smile tugged at your lips as he began to speak, his voice gruff as he spoke.

“Welcome to the ___, what can I get started for ya?”

Your eyes drifted, noticing the shiny gold name pin reading, Dabi.

[themirroredmoon]

Wine in Witchcraft - Meanings and Associations

Wine is generally associated with Happiness, Success, Love, Relationships, and Offerings. However, specific types can be broken down further and have more associations.

RED WINE (In General) Element: Earth Season: Winter Associations: Love, Warmth, Contemplation, Happiness, Success, Money, Passion, Health, Lust

[Cabernet Sauvignon] Tastes Like: Full-bodied, dark fruit flavors of blackcurrant (cassis), black cherry, blackberry with notes of green bell pepper, spice, tobacco, wood, and vanilla Element: Earth Associations: Grounding, Protection, Banishing, Strength, Energy, Lust, Fertility, Ancestors, Written Magic (Sigils)

[Merlot] Tastes Like: Soft/round, dark fruit flavors of black cherry, blackberry, plum, and raspberry layered with herbal notes and undertones of vanilla and mocha Element: Water, Fire Associations: Unity, Love, Passion, Self-Care, Protection, Healing, Prosperity, Sexuality, Sea Witchcraft, Water Magic

[Pinot Noir] Tastes Like: Delicate and fresh, complex flavors that include cherry, raspberry, mushroom and forest floor, plus vanilla and baking spice when aged in French oak Element: Earth, Air Associations:  Prosperity, Protection, Wealth, Success, Beauty, Passion, Glamours

[Shiraz] Tastes Like: Hearty, spicy, black pepper, black currant, clove, blackberry, plum, leather, tar Element: Fire, Earth Associations: Wealth, Banishing, Divination, Tech Witchcraft, Comfort, Mystery, Secrets, Endings

[Zinfandel] Tastes Like: Rich, zesty, raspberry, raisin, black cherry, blackberry, pepper Element: Earth Associations: Growth, Wealth, Plant Magic, Vigor, Stamina, Happiness, Love, Healing, Versatility 

WHITE WINE (In General) Element: Air Season: Summer Associations: Joy, Happiness, Love, Relationships, Friendships, Endings, Success, Energy, Purification

[Chardonnay] Tastes Like: Wider-bodied, light, velvety, apricot, mango, green apple, citrus, melon, vanilla Element: Water Associations: Peace, Emotions, Safety, Success, Happiness, Balance, Polarity, Purification, Mental Power/Abilities

[Moscato] Tastes Like: Sweet, acidic, fruity, grapefruit, musk, citrus, apricot, rose, caramel Element: Air Associations: Love, Mystery, Lust, Relationships, Fertility, Purity, Cleansing, Healing, Love Magic

[Pinot Grigio] Tastes Like: Crisp, dry, fruity, peach, pear, acidic Element: Air Associations: Rebirth, Endings, New Beginnings, Happiness, Reality, Creativity, Longevity, Divination (especially open-ended, like tarot)

[Riesling] Tastes Like: Steely, crisp, fresh, slightly sweet, pear, apple, peach, petrol, honey Element: Fire, Water Associations:  Energy, Movement, Growth, Rebirth, Love, Friendship, Attraction, Activity/Movement (dance, preparation, cleansing, etc)

[Sauvignon Blanc] Tastes Like: Herbal, grass, bell pepper, green apple, lime, gooseberry, jalapeno, melon, mango, black currant, passionfruit, peach Element: Air, Earth Associations: Love, Peace, Friendship, Companionship, Arts, Healing, Happiness, Joy, Spirit Work

ROSÉ WINE (In General) Element: Air Season: Spring Associations: Beginnings, Happiness, Excitement, friendship, New Romance, Love, passion, Playfulness, Relaxation, Luck

SPARKLING WINE Element: Fire Season: Summer Associations: Success, Completion, Celebration, Wealth, Opportunity, Setting Things in Motion, prosperity, space Witchcraft, Weather Magic, Adding a “Spark”

[riacte]

Space Opera AU dashboard simulator

🥧 syrupstars Follow

Anyone else think that Red King racer is a little... y'know... fruity?

👑 falsewellsupremacy Follow

He literally says "ladies, gentlemen, everyone in between, get in line" so I think that answers your question.

🥧 syrupstars Follow

What about the "#Ally4Life 🏳️‍🌈" on his Twilight handle?

👑 falsewellsupremacy Follow

I genuinely have no idea. Maybe he thinks it's about him being an ally to cishet people

#idk ren's just like that sometimes #void knows what he's doing #also prev tags you do not want to get into the black hole of who ren has dated #he has rumours with 3/4 of the grid #edit: WHO MENTIONED BAD BOY TEENAGE REN IN MY NOTES #the shippers are here... oh no #edit 2: not ren at the club.

74 notes

🛑 bluebatshater Follow

oh my voiddd ofc That Duo got p1 again... i need them to dnf in the race. i hope they crash and burn and die and i need crastle to get podium for ONCE. i am so mad. i am calling for the goddess tsuki to curse them. dnf dnf crash burn DIE

🌻 lesbianlumian Follow

the goddess tsuki LITERALLY protects racers and that's why they pray to her? you think the goddess tsuki, creator of lumians, will curse an actual lumian? be so fucking fr

🛑 bluebatshater Follow

if you dont have anything productive to say get off my post. freak

#those blue bats stannies are SO ANNOYING THEY ARE EVERYWHERE #they're overshadowing all the other teams #cant even be a bitchy hater in peace #salt #negativity #hateposting

12 notes

🔮 queenofstarz03 Follow

OMG FALSE IS SO PRETTY SHES MY QUEEN OF HEARTS OMG OMGOMGOGM 💖💖💖💖💖💖 i tihnk im gonna pass out. HER HAIR FLYING IN THE WIND AND HER RED FRECKLES AND HER SMILE WHY IS MY HEART BEATING SO FAST and Ren is hot I guess he's tall like a ferris wheel

🔮 queenofstarz03 Follow

Looking at posts from five years ago is funny like how did I ever believe I was straight

🍦 jelliepopsicle Follow

OP, I think I recognise your url... did you write that viral Bad Boy Ren x QoH fic on Launchpad?

🔮 queenofstarz03 Follow

💀 Shut the fuck up right NOWWW!!

#STOP MENTIONING THAT FIC I WFOTE WHEN I WAS THIRTEEEN!!! #everything before my gay awakening is not canon. sorry #tbh... as much as a nightmare it was i kinda miss that stupid fic #it was from a simpler time #now im in university trying to contact my groupmates and i think one of them got lost in a blackhole last tuesday (again) #sigh. this keeps on happening to me #my cousin worked on one of the moons last summer for two weeks and came back like he'd aged six months #my friend's ex got sucked into a black hole and was briefly spaghettified but they managed to revive her and she gloats that she's finally taller than my friend's ex #whoops sorry for dumping in the notes #anyways. bad boy rk x good girl queen of hearts. awful idea. even more awful fic. yet i wrote it #i regret everything and nothing

25 notes

🗣️ peace-and-planets-deactivated63891092

PSA: Sunblr user @/summerheavens writes RPF of the Exterra 1 racers. She is a big name fan in the Miraculous Laserbug fandom so I thought you all would like to know. This is gross and disgusting behaviour and I implore you to stop.

🍬 summerheavens Follow

umm @/peace-and-planets i literally saw your kudos on my fic. the evidence is out there. girl what are YOU doing at the devil's sacrament. what are you doing on my roseduo rpf titled "hang your head low in the glow of the vending machine (we're not trying)".

but i'm glad you liked it enough to give it a kudos ^_^ will certainly be putting more on the starchive!

❄️ justwingit Follow

LMFAOOOO OP DEACTIVATEDDDDD 😭😭😭 sunblr user got killed by a rpf author. if you're gonna secretly read rpf maybe not leave a kudos?????

🚀 exterrablrheritage

Exterra 1 Heritage Post

⚡ littlewoodbabygirl69

It's been ten years since this post... @/summerheavens are you okay after recent developments

🍬 summerheavens Follow

am i okay? is ANYONE okay??? in these trying times??????? with the most chaotic gp to ever exist?????? i am PULLING OUT WIPS i dropped out of respect ten years ago. i've got to send my kid to daycare but once i'm done you bet you're seeing me on the starchive. miss swift even dropped her 20th album just in time for me to use lyrics as titles. i am LIVING and i am THRIVING

#ohhhhhhhhhh #let's go #also can't believe taylor finally addressed the vehicle manslaughter rumours from like twenty years ago #how fitting #also littlewood needs to get his shit together #why does he look like he's the one who hasn't seen his man in 32738102371 years and got his soul shattered #he's weak and won't survive the winter

27,408 notes

🧈 butteredbread Follow

WHAT is wrong with that lykos. i desire him carnally

🌳 treebark

@/handoftheking

🪓 handoftheking

I mean... yeah. Let's face it, we're all like that 🤷

⭐ nonbinarystar Follow

MR LITTLEWOOD WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE

#WHAT IS WRONG WITH HIM #I HATE HIM SO MUCH #PARASOCIAL RELATIONSHIPS CAN ALSO BE ABOUT HATE #THIS GLOWSTICK MF IS MY WORST ENEMY #he just canonised treebark for the sixth time #also prev tags so real #need to slingshot him into a faraway galaxy

34,091 notes

🫃 spaceshipmpreg Follow

Who put that Just a Dream FalseRen AMV on my dash again

🔮 queenofstarz03 Follow

Respect your roots!! That 125M views Just a Dream AMV raised a generation. Every kid in my school played it on loop on their ipods during recess

🔮 queenofstarz03 Follow

wait op can you explain your url

🫃 spaceshipmpreg Follow

No 👍

#i think we should get the dogwarts freighter pregnant

6 notes

[sagelasters]

luxurious fragrance ideas to manifest (tried n tested!)

❀ 🪷 ུ these are a few fragrances that i tried and then end up adoring them. i thought i would make a fun little post to give you suggestions if you need something specific to manifest!

𓇼  st barts by ouai

my favourite summer scent but it works if you live in humid countries. honestly my holy grail, there's something about this scent that gives me a tropical holiday vibes. i swear to god you would literally smell like you got money, but it's not a boring fragrance! not sure to describe but you can pick up a light hint of coconut and fruity scent. i dont think ouai released a perfume (they really should) but so far there's a body scrub, body cream (my favourite), shower gel, and body/hair mist. highly recommend this if you want to smell like the hamptons (i know it's specific).

𓇼  allegra baciami by bvlgari

another top favourite, this is actually my signature scent (i dont gate keep) and i have a lot of fragrances so yeah! i was on a search for good vanilla perfumes and where im from, people don't really like sweet fragrances since the weather here is usually hot. i really hate floral scents so i tend to stay away from popular perfumes like gucci blooms. anyways, i smelled allegra baciami in store and was blown away! it smelled like vanilla but i could pick up hints of coconut, amber and musk. the scent overall has depth to it and you just straight up smell like luxurious vanilla when the perfume dries up. i need to try their lotion next though.

𓇼  eau de rhubarbe écarlate by hermes

this one is more of a fruity scent but i wouldn't classify it on the sweet zone. it's definitely very fresh and you can smell a bit of berries, i would considered this scent as gender neutral (i mean men can use women perfume too if they like). it reminds me of red wine and a dance into your local jazz club. i would definitely recommend this fragrance for someone who is more into neutral scents, or they just don't like anything sweet or floral.

𓇼  j'adore eau de parfum by dior

a classic scent and you've been probably heard of this if you're really into fragrances. this used to be an everyday scent for school because i feel like it fits any occasions. initially when you spray it on your skin, you can smell a little bit of vanilla but a slight floral scent too. like i said, i hate floral but i love this one bc the floral notes isn't too overpowering. when the wind blows, the caramel and amber notes just blossoms in your nose. i think this specific version of j'adore is more bright and lively, just a very young scent!

❀ 🪷 ུ okay that's enough rambling from me but if you're looking for rlly good fragrances, girl i got u!! hope u found smth u liked from my list, im a little biased bc i love sweet scents, rlly sorry if you're a floral girlie.

[palmtreesx3]

Season 1 Steve smells like chlorine and a twinge of cigarettes. He smells like a fresh shower after practice, spearmint gum and just-done laundry. He smells like light dusting of aerosol from his hairspray. He smells like just a touch of Ralph Lauren Polo - all bergamot and cedar and mossy - because his dad bought it for him and told him real men where cologne. He smells like hints of leather, because Harrington's only wear the real stuff. Tucking your nose into his neck smells like a boy trying to be a man, it smells safe and comfortable but a little daring. A little boy next door, but a little trouble all at once.

Season 2 Steve smells like a bit of leather and musk following him around after gym or basketball practice. There's the lingering soft and delicate floral notes of Nancy Wheelers perfume., but that's all quickly overpowered by the nutty, honey scent of his shampoo. He still smells like laundry, clean and crisp. Like fresh air and a fall breeze and a boy who likes to sit outside and think about what comes next. He smells like apple cider and nutmeg and a bonfire before the homecoming football game. He smells woodsy and grassy from his climb up the tall oak tree to get through your window and he smells like pencil shavings and the textbooks he's carrying around trying too hard too late to make something of himself.

Season 3 Steve smells like sweet vanilla bean and with undertones of disinfectant from scrubbing the dishes at Scoops at the end of his shift. It's all cherry chapstick on his lips, making things sweet. He smells like fruity popsicles and there's a buttery scent of popcorn on his jacket that he just can't shake from all his dates at the movie theater. He smells like root beer floats and fresh cut grass and the wildflowers he tucks behind your ears by the lake. He smells a bit like what you would expect sunshine feels like, on a warm summer day by the pool and when he leans in close, you just know he'll taste like butterscotch if you kiss because you already smell it on his tongue.

Season 4 Steve Smells like cherry rope candy and that Family Video vest permanently smelling of Calvin Klein Obsession for Men, all lavender and a little spice. He carries around the faintest smell of crisp apples and peach and maybe a little patchouli - Robin's perfume and shampoo clinging to him from their morning car rides and counteracting the waxy smell of 100 rewound VHS tapes. He smells warm, like a flickering fall fire might feel, and a bit like the coffee he's taken up drinking between dropping Robin off at school and the start of his shift. He smells less put together than before, but more natural, like the cedarwood candle he burns in the living room when you come over and he tries to impress you and the fresh linen smell of his sheets.

[floydsglasses]

Dagger Squad as Bath and Body Works Smells

So its January and its time for B&BW to roll out the good not fruity smells so why not do this, so enjoy my unhinged ness.

𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐲 "𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫" 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐰-𝐋𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐲

This was not that hard for me to choose, he reminds me of an old car smell, like a jeep that was hidden in a garage for to long and is now being driven. This candle smells like warm leather, amber woods and aged brandy, its described as a nightcap in your recliner.

𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞 "𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐦𝐚𝐧" 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐧- 𝐒𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐧 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐧

The irony of me finding this candle name, when i think of him like i think some type of hickory sweet honey smell, like a dive bar in the mountains. This candle smells like Warm Whiskey, Bergamot, Cedarwood & Amber and its described as warm, friendly aroma of a fresh & clean southern gentleman on date night

𝐍𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐚 "𝐏𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐱" 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞- 𝐑𝐚𝐬𝐩𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 & 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐕𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚 Honestly this whole candle to me scream's her, like the coloring remind's me of her and the whole smell, she seem's like the kind of person to wear a flannel when lounging around her house. This candle smells like, pink raspberries, strawberry vanilla bean and sugared lemon drops. and Its described as : a lightly tart and perfectly creamy treat.

𝐑𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐭 "𝐁𝐨𝐛" 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐲𝐝-𝐋𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠

When I think of him I think a type of sweet airy smell, like watching the morning sun in the mountains during the summer, and you cant tell me that this man doesn't remind you of just that. This candle smells like crisp autumn air, white driftwood and a hint of green apple. and is described as cool, sweet, fresh alone time on the dock.

𝐌𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐲 "𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐲" 𝐆𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐢𝐚- 𝐀𝐩𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐝

I will not lie he was kind of hard to choose for, I imagine him having a sweet smell but also obtaining this masculine wood like smell, like I can just see it. This candle smells like Red Apple, Plum, Soft Pear, Jasmine, Peony, Cedarwood, Patchouli, Vanilla, Musk and is also described as crisp woodland walk with sweet apple aroma in the air.

𝐑𝐮𝐞𝐛𝐞𝐧 "𝐏𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤" 𝐅𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡- 𝐁𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐛𝐨𝐧

I know that this might be like so basic as a masculine type smell but he just for some reason seems like he would smell like a wood barrel that has been aged perfectly, like if you opened a perfect bottle of bourbon and it tasted perfect. This candle smells like a bold, smooth, barrel-aged pour. Fragrance notes: white pepper, dark amber and Kentucky oak. and is also described as such, bold, smooth, barrel-aged pour.

𝐉𝐚𝐯𝐲 "𝐂𝐨𝐲𝐨𝐭𝐞" 𝐌𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨- 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐚 𝐂𝐨𝐚𝐬𝐭

It's literally in the name, he reminds me of a beach plain and simple like that, like anything this man is like golden coast. This candle smells like Bright Citrus, Cool Waters, Sea Breeze & Beach Woods. And like my description this is told to be like, The smell of cool ocean waters fills the California coast.

By the way you all can get these candle's, i dont remember the price though so dont ask me lol.

[immoralimmortals]

Akatsuki members as perfumes i own

I couldn't sleep last night because I am haunted by visions that are so very specific to me and my needs. These are all indie company perfumes currently available for purchase or seasonally available. I am a creature of my senses, and therefore I am not bound only with the curse of associating music with characters, but also scents.

Pain: The People You Love Become Ghosts Inside You from Death & Floral

Description: Heavenly musk, lingering funeral flowers, cold scent of vanilla in an empty corridor, handprints on a foggy window

This is a scent known by its fans to invoke deep emotion. It has funeral lillies to a T. The title is the main reason for my choice, though I can imagine him smelling like this. It's the definition of cold and formal, like the corpses he drags to do his bidding.

🥀

Konan: Mnemophilia from Nui Cobalt Designs

Description: Stately gardenia, antique sandalwood, Florentine iris, pearl musk, jasmine absolute, neroli, and liquidambar.

This is a scent which contains notes I have not experienced anywhere else. It is like...you took the idea of a mirror and gave it a smell? It is pristine, classy, and oh so very melancholy. It makes me thoughtful, it reminds me of glass or crystal. Another "cold" scent, similar to Pain's but more of a sister than an imitation of it. Less about death and more about memory, as the name entails.

I also considered Billet Doux from Possets, which is meant to evoke a perfume-stained love letter. Also very clean and classy, but actually brings the impression of paper and ink. Also noticeably a lot sweeter than Mnemophilia! Perhaps more for her when she was young and in love.

📷

Obito: The Emperor of Ice Cream from The Strange South

Description: Limp flowers on a windowsill, strawberry ice cream, tobacco leaves, tonka, and a dribble of young blood.

Saccharine with something to hide. The blood note on its own (i was able to try it) is actually very fruity, like strawberry. I think the visualization of dripping blood and strawberry syrup being the same is wonderful. The tobacco comes through as the scent fades, becoming more mature over time.

👑

Zetsu: A Roll in the Hay from Alkemia

Description: dried hay, fresh green grass, early summer wildflower honey, vanilla grass, vanilla leaf, and wild poppy.

This one really just smells authentically like true to life hay. I can't wear it all the time but it's so, so distinct when I do. It's a scent for when I want to imagine I'm all alone, deep in a field of tall, dried grass. The only thing is that it is probably far too innocent for him. He would not *want* to smell like this.

But I do. Because it's great.

...Okay he'd actually smell like Esprit de la Terre from Alkemia which smells like pine trees, but I don't like pine trees! I'm going to make him suffer and smell like vanilla.

🌾

Hidan: Damned Nightfall from Death & Floral

This scent is fucking purple lmao. The violets are a little powdery, like the visage of something pure, and the rest is DARK. It clings to my skin with those deep resins first and foremost like incense being burned. Despite all the food notes, not one lick of sweetness, frankly not a bit of edibility. This is a badass vibe like a jaguar hunting in the dark. It bites if I put too much on.

Description: the deepest and darkest amber blended with violets, black labdanum, vanilla absolute, espresso absolute, fresh cocoa beans, and honey

There are scents that exist that mean to invoke the smell of blood, but none of them are real enough to suit him. However, the metallic nature of Scythe from Possets is very impressive and real with a suitable name for the Jashinist.

🌒

Kakuzu: JFK and Jackie from Possets

First and foremost, this scent is old school. The leather reminds me of what Kakuzu's skin may be like; I read a fic way back describing his earth grudge causing it to have that kind of texture. Perhaps this is what he'd smell like if you somehow convinced him to give you a hug. You know. Somehow.

Description: A snap of the finest leather, a bit of oakmoss, combined with tabac blonde essence, a whiff of tea, and the warmth of silk. 

There are scents that smell like money, but I do not actually like the scent of money. I'm sorry Kakuzu.

☕

Deidara: Morton Salt Girl from Death & Floral

I know salt doesn't smell. I know it doesn't. But this is what salt smells like. If you ever get opportunity to try this, do it. It's so unique. I think this would be a wonderful scent to imagine for his clay; it is so distinctly earthy, and the salty aspect reminds me of smelling playdoh as a kid (and putting it into my mouth).

Description: yellow musk, salt, and rain on concrete.

🧂

Sasori: Forbidden Library from Nui Cobalt

This is what his puppets smell like. It's what they smell like! I do not make the rules! It is deep, it is softly masculine, it is beautifully woody. This is the phantom that haunts the abandoned castle library, who crawls out of the ancient tome in your fingers.

Description: The vanillic scent of aging paper infused with ceremonial incense, venerable bookshelves of black oak and sweet himalayan cedarwood, a hint of mossy stone, and an undercurrent of faded suede.

Bonus points: this is one of the few perfumes I reach for on the weekly. It's so, so pleasant.

📜

Kisame: Two Cups of Tea, a Monsoon, Me and You from Death & Floral

Description: rain on cracked soil, wet creosote, a swelling monsoon, desert cedar, black tea. 

I am one of the only people that seem to take this as floral. The storm is there, it is humid and sticky and moist like rain in the summer, but I distinctly get flowers behind it all. I think it suits him. (And it is one of few aquatic scents that don't smell like laundry to me nor like cut grass).

☔

Itachi: Ghostfire from Alkemia

Has the distinct impression of paleness against a night sky, like a star or a will-o-wisp. It's a strange but haunting combo of melting candle wax and melon. There is a sugared and floral version of this scent called Foxfire, which perhaps encapsulates him before everything went downhill.

Description: A luminous attraction of ethereal white ambers. Hauntingly beautiful.

Another Alkemia scent is Burning Roses, which is exactly what it says on the tin but with the unfortunate addition of labdanum, which this iteration of hates my skin chemistry with a passion. Oh, what could have been...

🎇

[discokicks]

THE KIDS AIN'T FINE, FINE - ROY KENT.

PART THREE of ACES AT THE WATER'S EDGE.

(series masterlist!) (AO3!) (series playlist!)

pairing: roy kent x fem!reader (no use of y/n!)

summary: in 2012, roy’s summer olympic training camp is going (surprisingly) well. the same can’t be said for your new and current arrangement at richmond. and while you two think you’re doing a good job at keeping your bickering discreet, certain people are starting to notice that something’s up. and some are handling it better than others.

word count & rating: 11.8k (holy shit), R (typical roy kent fruity language)

chapter warnings: swearing, minor allusions to sexual assault and harassment, a sprinkling of sexual tension (we'll get there y'all), talk of alcohol and alcohol use, ploooot, lots of football/soccer/coaching talk, major angst, typical bickering, slight fluff.

author's note: i’m baaaaaaack and we're in it now, folks! we're covering A LOT of ground in this part. whole lotta relationship building and exposition. we're getting to the fun stuff soon, promise. and for the sake of my plot/pacing, we're pretending there was a week of time between last chapter and this one, despite them both taking place within the 3x02 timeframe. thank you for the love on the last chapter, i'm truly having so much fun writing this, so it's so exciting to see that people are enjoying it. ok, shutting up now, love u all tons, let's goooo! - mags

PRESENT DAY. (MID-AUGUST, 2023)

There are two days until Richmond’s first game of the season and you think you’ve slept approximately four and a half hours this entire week.

Despite the fact that your days weren’t too intense (pre-season practices were typically a little more involved and could stretch longer, and your Coaches' meetings never kept you past an unreasonable hour), your nights were rather rough. They seemed to be endless while also never offering quite enough time.

This was all self-inflicted, though. From the second you returned home from Nelson Road, you dove back into work, studying game film and your new players, attempting to figure out exactly what made this team tick. You thought about potential plays and formations in the shower, nearly slipping and cracking your head open each time you raced out to draw something up. You rehearsed things you wanted to say during practices, making sure each line was insightful and understandable, without overstepping any sort of boundaries.

Boundaries were key, here. You were hyper-aware of those now.

However, it wasn’t like you were saying the majority of these things. For the first time in almost a decade, you’d found yourself biting your tongue more often than not. You were friendly and encouraging like any good coach was, but you were agreeable. Quiet. Hesitant.

Those were issues and you knew that. That’s not what a coach was supposed to be, especially the coach of an AFC team. But that stupid fucking anxiety that you couldn’t shake had muzzled you. The fear made you weak. And while you hated it, you couldn’t rid yourself of it. That only made you feel more pathetic. 

And it wasn’t like the Richmond team hadn’t done everything in their power to make you feel welcome. The ‘primary school-level art’ Roy had spoken of on your first day had been a large ‘Welcome to Richmond’ banner held by the team in the locker room, each of the players greeting you with a wide smile on their faces. While, yes, it did look like it’d been put together by a couple of third-graders (with the exception of a wildly intricate sunflower in the corner done by Dani Rojas), the thought behind it nearly made you cry. 

All of the players had personally introduced themselves to you throughout the week, some keeping it short and sweet like Jaan Maas, others, such as Sam, approaching with lists of questions; not just about your professional life, but personal life, too.

They each were respectful and kind, listening to the few things you did work up the courage to say and seemed to take them to heart. They listened to you. They wanted to hear from you. They wanted to get to know you.

And you couldn’t fucking allow yourself to do it.

Your distant and rather closed-off behavior hadn’t gone unnoticed. While you thought you were keeping it cool and polite, certain players and people (AKA your entire coaching staff and boss) couldn’t help but see through what you’re doing. 

This becomes evident early one morning, approximately five days after you begin. You’re the first one at the Richmond facilities, having stayed up for so long that night that you figured you might as well just stay awake for training. You’re only the slightest bit delirious and are trying not to vibrate due to the three cups of coffee that are currently coursing through your system.

You’re about to take a sip of your fourth when you hear a knock on your office door. The sound makes you pause— nobody’s supposed to be here until eight, at least. 

The voice behind the knock reveals the identity immediately. “You’re here early, Coach.”

Unconsciously, your body goes rigid. You thought you’d be alone. You’ve only been here for a couple days, but nobody seemed to come in this early. Especially not Jamie Tartt.

What was he doing here? Why was he here so early? Was it just him? Or were there others with him? Anxiety floods through your veins at the idea of being alone in your office with this team’s star player. It creeps along your spine and into your mind and taunts you with ‘what ifs’, It’s stupid and it makes no sense and you hate yourself for it, but you can’t find a way to stop it. 

And it’s not even his fault. It has nothing to do with him. But you can’t seem to convince yourself of that.

Without turning around, you greet him. “C-Could say the same for you, Jamie.”

Jamie Tartt chuckles from your doorframe. “Having trouble sleepin’ lately,” he tells you, sounding slightly confused by your refusal to face him. “Thought I’d show up early.”

You force yourself to turn, crossing your arms over your chest. You ignore how clammy your palms are as your hands ball to fists. “Is that… typical for you?” you ask. “To show up at this time?”

“Not at all,” he replies with a shake of his head. The smile on his face is easy. Polite. Comfortable. “Just got a lot on me mind lately. Makes me sleep shitty.”

“Sorry to hear that.” You attempt the same politeness but your words come out clipped. You can’t tell if he notices. 

Jamie nods. “Oh, it’s whatever. I’ll get over it.”

The dead air you’re met with is almost painful. You know you should be better at this. You know you should be engaging in this type of small talk, trying to get to know your team. You’re their coach, for fuck’s sake. You know what you need to do.

But as you stare at Jamie, you can’t get anything to come out. You don’t want to say the wrong thing. You don’t want to overstep your boundaries or his. You don’t want to screw this up too. One wrong move and it could be over for you.

The hesitation clearly reads on your face and this time, you can tell Jamie notices. However, what you notice is the way he lingers at your door.

Finally, you muster up the courage to ask, “Is there something I can help you with?”

That seems to be what he was looking for. His shoulders sag as he nods, glancing behind him to see if there’s anyone around. “I was just…” He enters your office, plopping himself down into Roy’s desk chair with a lazy spin, and the action makes your throat tighten. “Is, uh… Is Zava really coming to Richmond?”

You don’t know what you were expecting from him, but it certainly wasn’t that. The question catches you off guard. “Oh,” you say. You shrug, arms uncrossing. “Uh, I mean… it’s being talked about. I’m still kind of new, but it seems like every team’s kinda trying to get him. I know West Ham was trying hard for sure, so… not sure if we’ll win him over.”

Jamie nods. “But it’s on the table?”

His tone doesn’t match the question. Everyone else— each player, coach, fan, everyone has the same type of excitement when talking about the prospect of Zava. And you get it. 

But Jamie doesn’t seem to be in the same boat. And immediately, you get that too.

The realization makes you part your lips, something like sympathy rising up inside you. Jamie’s the star. The Ace. He’s Richmond’s playmaker and he thinks he’s going to be sidelined because of it. And honestly, he may just be right.

“Yeah,” you reply. “It’s still on the table.” He nods once more, like he’s confirming a reality he didn’t want to face. In an attempt to reassure him, you awkwardly try, “But there’s still a lot of ‘what-ifs’ that have to happen before that does. The probability of it happening is like, super low.” Jamie looks at you. “So, I wouldn’t worry about it until it does.”

That makes Jamie shake his head. “I’m not worried about it,” he nearly scoffs. You can’t help the way you look at him, eyebrows raised and calling him out on his bullshit. “I’m not!”

“Good,” you say, backing off from this type of conversation before it can start. The idea of getting into any type of argument makes you tense. “You don’t have to be.”

That seems to satisfy him. Momentarily. Because then he asks, “But if he does…” As he trails off, he meets your expectant eyes. “Could we… Could you help me out?”

The question gives you pause. “In what way? Giving you updates on where we are with Zava?”

“No,” he chuckles. “I mean, like… training me. One on one? Or even just giving me more notes in practice?”

The second he says training, your entire body freezes. He wanted to do one-on-one training sessions with you? Just the two of you? Alone? The last time someone you’d coached had asked you that…

Jamie’s expression contorts in confusion as he sees the look on your face. “I just thought that, like, we played the same position? And y’know, I’ve seen your film and I know what you do and… I think you’d be able to help me.”

You try to answer him but the words don’t come out. Your throat’s dry, jaw tight. However, luckily, before Jamie has time to fully panic about his questions, you crush them. “Uh, I’m—” Your voice cracks. “I’m not sure I’d be comfortable with that just yet.”

Your answer seems to surprise him, but you’re surprised by how quickly he backs off. He physically takes a step back, throwing his hands up. “Oh, yeah. Of course,” he says. “You just got here. Don’t really know us yet. Totally get it.”

You hadn’t expected that. The last time, you’d been fought. Begged. Coerced. You’re the only one who seems to get me, Coach. You just know how to teach me. C’mon.

But Jamie doesn’t do that. And you’re not sure what to do with that.

“I-I’m sorry,” you manage to get out. “Nothing against you, but I’m just—” You interrupt yourself with a new offer. “Maybe ask Roy?”

That Jamie actually scoffs at. “Right.”

“I’m serious,” you tell him. “He’s actually a pretty good trainer.”

“No, he’s uh…” Jamie swipes at his mouth as he laughs. “He’s not my biggest fan.”

His admission makes you laugh and relax for a moment. “Well, at least we’ve got that in common, Tartt.”

Jamie’s gaze snaps to yours at that, but his oncoming question is interrupted by a voice from the hallway. “The fuck are you two doing here so early?”

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. Roy’s voice is a welcome one for the first time in eight years. Your eyes flash to him as he stands outside your shared office, glancing between the two of you in confusion. 

“We both had trouble sleeping,” you respond. “Felt like being early for once.”

Jamie nods in agreement. “Was shootin’ a bit outside. Saw the light was on and wanted to say hi to Coach.”

Roy nods but says nothing to that. He just continues to stare at Jamie in that vaguely intimidating, wildly annoying way. Jamie’s brows raise before Roy says, “You’re in my fucking chair.”

Jamie rolls his eyes. “Yeah. Because you weren’t here. I was gonna get out when you got in.”

“Well, I’m in now,” Roy says. “So get out of my fucking chair.”

Jamie glances at you with a cheeky smile. “Grandad doesn’t like people in his chair.”

The corners of your lips twitch up. “Grandad doesn’t like a lot of things,” you reply, a strange sense of pride rising within you as Jamie’s grin widens.

“Grandad’s about to go out back out into the car park and drive through the facility if my chair’s not empty in three fucking seconds,” Roy grits.

You bite back a smile at the empty threat, watching as Jamie shakes his head and stands. “Easy there, geezer. I’m out. Going back to the pitch,” he tells you two, making his way out of the office. Before he leaves, he glances back at you. “And Coach? Don’t worry about what I said.”

You can feel Roy’s eyes on the side of your face as you give Jamie a small, grateful smile. But when he exits, it drops and you fail to hold back a heavy, shaky sigh. God, why the fuck can’t you do your fucking job? Why does this have to be so hard?

Less than a second of silence passes between you and Roy before he asks, “What did he say?”

You shake your head. “Nothing. Nothing important.”

Roy doesn’t take the hint. He’s never been good at that. “What did he say?” he repeats.

“He—” You slump into your desk chair, running a hand down your face. You know avoiding this is no use. He’ll ask until he gets it out of you, so you might as well get it over with. “He asked me for extra training.”

Roy’s brows shoot up. “You?”

You glare at him from behind your fingers. “I’m a fantastic coach.”

“I know you are. But there’s no way he could have known.”

Your glare only gets more intense as you drop your hands. The implication of his statement isn’t lost on you. No one knows anything about you because of how little you’ve spoken. You get that. But he doesn’t need to be a dick about it.

“It doesn’t matter,” you say with a roll of your eyes. “I said no, so.”

“You said no?” He sounds incredulous. “Since when do you say no?”

“Since—” The words get caught in your throat again, and it tightens horribly. Since West Ham. Since you said no more times than you could count and it went ignored.

You shake your head like it’ll clear your thoughts. “I’m just not comfortable with it.”

Roy’s suspicious. In your experience, a suspicious Roy Kent is just about as bad as a deceitful Roy Kent. Every fucking move you make for the next week will be under scrutiny until he can pinpoint whatever he thinks is happening. The idea makes you want to take him up on his offer to drive through the facility.

His eyes stay on you, calculating stare never breaking. “Why?” he asks, as if he’s expecting a simple answer.

But it’s not simple. It’s so unbelievably, wildly, completely the opposite of simple. 

But you give him a simple answer in return. It’s a bullshit answer, but it’s simple. “Boundaries,” you say. You’re out of your chair before he can respond to that. “I’m going to get more coffee.”

He says nothing as you exit, but you can feel his eyes on you. 

LONDON OLYMPICS. (LATE JULY, 2012)

As it turns out, Roy Kent’s Olympic Boot Camp is wildly more effective and insanely more fun than you thought it ever could be.

The two of you had met up twice since the night of the Opening Ceremony, at the same field, typically at the late-night same time. Roy had continued to send Roger the Driver for you, something you’d taken gladly advantage of, especially with your limited knowledge of the London area. You’d actually grown to love Roger despite his rather talkative nature, and he’d clearly taken a liking to you. 

(“Be kind to this one, Roy!” he’d yelled from the window as you’d exited his car. “The States need her much more than England needs you!”

“Fuck off, you old twat!”)

However, while these trainings had been way better than you’d expected, it’s also way fucking harder than you anticipated. 

You knew Roy was good. He was an AFC star. A Chelsea legend in the making. He was as well known as he was for a reason, and it wasn’t just because he frequented a tabloid cover. Roy was good.

But you think you may have underestimated just how good he was.

And it wasn’t like you weren’t keeping up with him. You could go shot for shot with him, run the same length and duration, and score on him with the same type of precision. Of course, he had his things that he was better at than you were (as a midfielder, he was a smart, fucking brick wall of a defender and wasn’t afraid to push you around) and you had your strengths over him (you were quicker than he was and your striker nature made you better at anticipating him). But there were certain things he’d do in the midst of a 1v1 drill that you would have never thought of, or he’d stop a play to give you a direction that had never occurred to you.

(Or, it would have occurred to you, but just not as quickly.)

That, coupled with the fact that he liked to run these practices until your lungs gave out, made for an intensely more challenging but rewarding experience.

But you didn’t think of them as rewarding until they were over. Case in point, your current and third meeting with him. It was 1:30 in the morning at Mabley Green on the 2nd of August and here you were, growing more and more frustrated with the fact that you couldn’t get around Roy despite the aggressive amount of fakes and footwork you were throwing around. He’d been in your ear the entire time, somehow encouraging you while still being a shit, and when you thought you had him, he stuck out a leg to stop the ball, effectively tripping you in the process.

You hit the ground with an ‘oof,’ taking advantage of your new horizontal position to lie for a minute and catch your breath. Your chest heaved up and down and you stared up at the huge lights illuminating the field. You could hear Roy walking toward you as you threw your arm over your eyes in exhaustion.

“You’re a dick,” you told him. “That fucking hurt.”

Roy’s scoff was loud. “That was a fucking dive.”

“You tripped me!”

“Bit dramatic.”

An affronted sound left your lips and you put your other hand up in a way that resembled a phone. “I’ve got the kettle on the line right now if you’d like to tell it it’s black.” 

You were surprised to hear him chuckle at this. “No idea what you’re talking about.”

Your eyes roll from behind your arm. “I’m serious,” you say. “All you boys act like you were shot the second someone marks you. It’s pathetic.”

“Refs miss shit. You gotta put on a show.”

“Is that show The O.C? Because I’m always expecting an auto-tuned ‘mmm, whatcha say’ to sound off each time one of you losers hits the ground.”

Roy’s standing above you now, looking down with a half-amused expression. “I don’t know what the fuck that means.” He’s talking again before you can explain. “Get up. We’re not finished yet.”

A loud, ugly groan escapes you. You still haven’t completely caught your breath. “I think I’m dying.”

“You’re fine. Get up.”

“I’m serious,” you say again. You finally remove your arm from over your eyes, squinting up at him. He’s as unamused as ever. “I think I’m dying and you killed me. I think if you tried to get me up right now, I’d collapse and stroke out or something.”

“And it would be a fucking loss for us all,” he replies dryly, earning a scowl from you. “I’ve got you for another thirty. We’re wasting time.”

You release another groan and squeeze your eyes shut once more. “Can I please just have, like, five minutes?” you plead. “Not all of us have this military-regimented training style that you seem to. I haven’t been this dialed in since college. Still trying to adjust here.”

(You’ve also never trained like this with someone as good as him before, but you keep that one to yourself. He doesn’t need the ego boost.)

You don’t hear anything in response for a moment. Confused, you open your eyes, expecting to find him still staring down at you with a frown, but he’s not there. Before you can rise to find him, a plastic water bottle lands right next to your head. You flinch in surprise, shooting up to glare at him.

Roy sits down across from you before you can complain. “Five minutes,” he agrees. 

“Oh, thank God,” you mutter, opening up your water to take a long gulp. You glance at him. “Are all of your Boot Camps as intense as this?”

Roy rolls his eyes at your question. “I’m sure you’ve been to worse.”

“I have. But in like, high school. This shit’s got nothing on my two-week sleep-away soccer camp in Western Massachusetts.” You pause for a moment. “Or the one in North Carolina. That one sucked.”

He looks over at you. “Yeah?”

“Oh, yeah. Six A.M. early training sessions into all-day drills and tournament game play? Followed by a lovely nine P.M. late-night training?” You shake your head. “Insane. And that early and late-night stuff? Totally optional.”

“But you still chose to do it,” he states, brows raised.

“I still chose to do it,” you repeat. “That, and my psycho coach would keep tabs on me to make sure I was going.” You chuckle despite yourself and shrug. “But I did it. Without complaint.”

“I see you picked up the complaining later in life.”

You make a face at the way he smirks. “I’d be a masochist if I didn’t complain about this,” you tell him, biting back a smile. “I assume you were born with that trait?”

“Just fucking about,” he mutters. At your inquisitive look, he shrugs. “Sunderland scouted me when I was nine. Training was pretty fucking rough until I went into the AFC.”

“I forgot you guys could start that stuff that young over here,” you say, taking another sip of your water. “Was that tough?”

“I kept up,” he answers. “They were hard on us but—”

“No,” you interrupt. “I meant like, doing that shit at nine. Being away from your family. Being on your own that young. Was that hard?”

With every reason you listed, you could see him stiffening. His expression became harder and you figured if he could push a button to put a wall between you two, he would. Your stomach sank as you tried to figure out if you’d said the wrong thing or pushed too far. Maybe that was a boundary he wasn’t willing to cross. Despite the amount you’d spoken these past three sessions, maybe you weren’t yet friendly enough to ask about his upbringing. 

But then again, he barely talked about himself in any capacity, so maybe it wasn’t just that. Maybe it was everything.

He was quiet for a moment before he shook his head. “No,” he finally said, though the one word alone let you know the answer was the opposite. He glanced down at his watch. “Five minutes are up.”

And that conversation is over. Got it. No questions about his childhood. Understood.

Still, the dismissal catches you slightly off guard. “O-Oh,” you stammer. “Right. Okay.”

Roy said nothing else as he stood, making his way back to the end of the pitch. You suppose you should have expected that from someone like him. While he’d gotten better as a conversationalist as the days had passed, you still led the majority of the talking. And you were fine with that. You were a pretty open book yourself and often forgot that most people weren’t the same way. Maybe that was on you.

You sit for a moment, allowing him some distance before you stand. You throw your water bottle to the sideline and follow behind him, feeling a bit like a dog that just got scolded. But you quickly shake that feeling away as he stops where he left the ball and turns to you, kicking it in your direction.

You put your foot on it as you receive it and look at him expectantly. “I’m setting a timer for thirty seconds,” he tells you, starting to fiddle with his watch. “We’re staying in the box. If you don’t score on me within that time, you run a lap.”

Well, that just sounds like your own personal hell. You frown. “And if I do score?”

“You won’t,” Roy replies quickly, and you don’t know if you’ve ever heard him sound more sure.

“No, but when I do score?” you repeat, emphasizing the word to see him roll his eyes. “What happens? We subtract a lap?”

Roy shrugs. “Sure. But—”

“No,” you say, eyes lighting up. “You have to run.”

“I’m not the one being trained here.”

“Yeah, but I’ve got a match tomorrow. And if my legs like, give out on the field I’m totally blaming you.” You roll the ball against your cleat. “‘I’m sure that ‘Roy Kent being the reason America loses’ isn’t exactly the headline your PR team’s gonna want.”

“I don’t give a fuck about PR,” he replies.

Images of rather negative tabloid covers and online gossip articles starring the man before you start flashing through your head. “Clearly.”

“I just don’t want anyone knowing I’m fraternizing with a fucking Yank,” he finishes, a smirk tugging at his lips. 

An overly fake and affronted gasp leaves your lips. “Fraternizing?” you parrot. “Is that what we’re doing?”

“Guess not,” he says. The smug expression intensifies. “Suppose I could tell them we’re training. Because the girl who’s supposed to be America’s fucking Ace needs it.”

That sparks a fire in you that you haven’t felt in a while. You can’t remember the last time someone challenged you like this. Sure, the women you played against would talk a fair amount of shit to you on and off the field, especially during a tight game when tensions were running high. But this was different. It was different hearing it from someone like him.

You’d never liked having to prove yourself. You knew it came with the territory of your chosen career path. You’d been doing it all your life. For every team you joined, every game you played, and every interview you gave, you’d been given an opportunity to prove yourself. And each time, you did. You were good at showing people up. But that didn’t mean you liked it.

You figured at some point people would just get the message. But unfortunately, that had never been the case.

So, as you look at Roy (who, by this point, knew he’d hit a nerve and had gotten the exact response he’d wanted), you know exactly what you’re going to do. You’re going to prove yourself and show him up like the rest.

With that settled, you nod at him. “Start the clock,” you say.

And as soon as he does, you’re on.

You attack without caution this time around. You’d never held back when practicing with Roy (mainly because he’d reprimand you if he felt you weren’t trying hard enough), but you also rarely had an edge to you like this. It’s new and aggressive and just a bit exciting.

Roy’s fucking ecstatic to see it. His chest meets your back as you attempt to pass him and you can feel him chuckling against it. “That’s it,” he says lowly. “Get around me. I fucking dare you.”

“Shut up,” you mutter, attempting a fake before moving to go the other way.

Said attempt ends up being less than successful as Roy fails to fall for it and kicks the ball out from beneath your foot. You swear under your breath, watching as it sails out of the box.

You’re close enough to him to still feel his chest moving up and down against your back, and his breath tickles your neck when he asks, “Is that seriously the best you’ve got?”

Your jaw clenches, but you refuse to look at him. “I’m gonna fucking destroy you.”

The certainty in your voice makes Roy grin, something you don’t see as you jog to retrieve the ball. The remnants of the smile stick around as you whip around to face him, commanding that he start the clock once more. The moment he does as he’s told, you’re coming at him again, nothing but determination to be seen in your expression.

This time, you’re quick. You anticipate his classic defensive stance, knowing that he’ll block your first shot. As soon as the ball bounces off his foot, you’re there for the rebound. You stop short, pulling back the moment he makes yet another move to take it from you, and he slips. 

You easily score on him not a second later.

After watching the ball fly into the net, you glance over at Roy. While he doesn’t look thrilled to have been bested, he doesn’t look sad either. Again, it’s like there are remnants of a smile left to be seen. 

“So,” you say. “Are we at zeroes for laps? Or one for one?”

Roy shakes his head. “One for one. Let’s keep fucking going.”

PRESENT DAY. (MID AUGUST, 2023)

It isn’t until the end of practice that you can feel it. How much Roy wants to fight with you.

It sounds stupid to phrase it like that, but it’s the only way. He’s pent up, a week into your ‘no fighting’ deal, and ready to burst. And while it’s worked (only because you two strictly talk about work and nothing else), now that he’s got something more personal to say, it’s like you’re waiting for an active volcano.

To be fair, your deal has worked in terms of not making a scene and not raising most people’s suspicions. But every other level, it’s been torturous. And right now? Roy’s ready to kill you.

He can’t, for the life of him, understand why you’re acting like this. 

He knows you. You’re warm. You’re friendly. You have this innate ability to make everyone around you comfortable in your presence, an ability to talk to anyone and everyone and actually get through. All of these things, coupled with the fact that he could never shut you up, made you who you were; a great teammate and an even better coach. 

(They were also all qualities Roy wished he had himself, which is why he was so fucking drawn to you in the first place, but that’s neither here nor there.)

He doesn’t know who this is. But he knows for a fact that these changes aren’t just because of time.

Roy’s breaking point, however, occurs toward the end of your Thursday practice. It’d been a good day, the boys showing more promise than ever. End-of-pre-season jitters (as Ted called them) were in full force and it was clear that the team couldn’t be more excited to get started with the season.

In your return back into the facility, Sam Obisanya trails back to fall into step with you with a wide smile on his face. He doesn’t miss the look of surprise you give him as he says, “I really liked what you said about passing around the box. I’ve been thinking that for all of pre-season, but did not know how to get it through to everyone.”

The point he’s referring to was one of the only things you’d said all afternoon. It was a quiet direction on your part, told more as a recommendation than an instruction. But Sam, Jamie, Colin, and Dani had taken it in stride, and it worked. Cleanly, too. You straight-up almost cried out of relief.

“Oh,” you say to him lamely, offering a small smile. “Thank you. You guys did great with it.”

Sam’s grin gets wider. “We all are going to eat after we’re done here,” he tells you. “You should join us.”

You can feel your stomach drop at the offer. You don’t want to turn him down. Poor Sam was trying so hard to make an effort with you and you feel completely awful giving him nothing in return. 

But you just… can’t. Boundaries. Boundaries.

Sam gets his answer from the way your smile turns apologetic. “I wish I could,” you say, knowing that it’s the truth. “But, I, uh— I’ve actually got plans tonight.”

“You could just come for a drink?” he offers. “I’m only going for a little while myself. I have some things at the restaurant I need to do.”

Your heart clenches. “I really wish I could.”

Thankfully, Sam takes the hint. He nods at you, still smiling. You don’t think he’s ever stopped. “That’s alright,” he says. “Another time.”

You nod back. “Yeah. Another time.”

With that, Sam goes to catch up with his teammates and leaves you with an overwhelming amount of guilt on your shoulders. 

He’s trying, you tell yourself. They all are. It’s different than West Ham. They’re not the same. Nobody on this team is like him—

You can feel yourself getting nauseous at the mere thought of him. It completely takes you out of the moment and your hands begin to shake back and forth as you attempt to continue walking, clenching your teeth as if that’ll rid your mind of him.

How strange it is to be haunted by someone who’s still living.

You’re already disoriented enough when you feel a hand grab your arm and yank you to the side. Your world spins for a moment and when it stabilizes, you realize you’re in the Boot Room staring at Roy Kent.

He slams the door shut and whirls around on you. “What the fuck are you doing?”

You do a full, cartoon-like double-blink at him. “What am I doing?” you ask him incredulously. “What are you doing? Why the hell did you pull me in here like that?”

“You don’t have plans tonight,” is what he replies with, like that’s a reasonable answer to your question.

“And how would you know that?” you question. 

He gives you a look. “Because you fucking don’t.”

“I do,” you say, crossing your arms. Your mind scrambles to find some excuse that’s suitable. For whatever reason, you decide on, “I have a date.”

Roy’s brows rocket up. “Do you?”

You know he can see right through you, so you don’t even bother trying. “No,” you admit, watching him roll his eyes. “But I could have. You don’t know my schedule.”

Roy doesn’t seem to want to linger on this. “That’s the third fucking time one of them has invited you out since you got here,” he tells you, ignoring the way your eyes widen. “Why do you keep turning them down?”

“Why are you keeping track of that?” you shoot back.

“Because you’re being a fucking hermit.” As if he knows exactly what you’re going to say next, he holds out a hand. “And that’s my fucking job. That’s not who you are.”

His words make you deflate, and your arms get tighter over your chest. “I’m not being a hermit,” you mutter, looking away from him. “I’m just not trying to take work home with me. I don’t see anything wrong with keeping the two separate.”

Roy isn’t having it. “No, you’re not,” he says. “You’re not keeping the two separate. You’re shutting out every fucking person around you when you’re at work too.” 

“That’s not true—”

“Did you or did you not refuse to train Jamie yesterday morning?” he snaps. Your silence answers his question for him. “It is fucking true. And even if it weren’t, unfortunately, that whole keeping-work-separate fucking bullshit doesn’t work here. Trust me. I tried.”

You scoff. “Well, that sounds like an HR issue.”

“Well, when Ted stops leaving fucking flowers for the HR women every week, I’m sure they’ll start to take your complaints seriously,” he tells you, and you sigh. Heavy. “Now, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

This question earns him a glare. “There’s nothing wrong with me,” you bite. “And if there were, it surely wouldn’t concern you.”

“Yes, it fucking does. You know why?” he asks. You stare at him expectantly. “Because last week, I remember someone telling me that if this was going to work, we have to tell each other things.”

Your own words come back to bite you in the ass and it makes your chest tighten. You scoff in an attempt to play it off, but that panic starts rising inside of you and throws everything off course. You know that it’s stupid, and you know that it’s Roy, and that despite it all, deep down, nothing bad would come from telling him… it’s still scary.

You didn’t want to talk about it and he didn’t deserve to know. Not yet, at least.

“Not this,” you say after a beat. Your voice sounds meek and it makes Roy’s brow scrunch. “I’ll talk to you about anything else you want, but not…” You interrupt yourself with a breath. “Not this.” Then, you utter a word you haven't said in eight years. "Foxtrot."

It’s then that Roy’s expression turns from confused to shocked. His lips part in surprise, like he can’t believe that just left your mouth. And then he looks at you. Like, really looks at you. It almost intimidates you in a way, and it would intimidate you more if you didn’t know this look of his. Not only is he evaluating you, you can tell he’s holding something back.

You’d said the word. Pulled that thing out of the trenches and threw it in his face. But he's still staring at you, determined to figure out exactly how to approach this situation. Attempting to figure out if he should say something.

Because, unfortunately, as well as you know Roy, he knows you better. And he knows how to get through to you. 

(And it’s fucking irritating.)

He, in fact, does choose to say something. And it’s not what you’re expecting. Because before he says in, he reaches into his pocket for his wallet, filing through it. 

Your mouth parts in question. “Are you trying to bribe me into—”

“Shut up,” he mutters, and you do so until he seems to find what he’s looking for. He holds out a slip of paper-- something that appears to be a newspaper clipping from ages ago. “Here.”

You blink at it. “What is that?”

“Just fucking—” Roy sighs, adjusting his grip on the page. “Read it.”

Hesitantly, you reach out to grab it. Your fingers brush his when you take it, and the action alone makes the two of you glance at each other. You look away as you unfold the paper, quickly scanning it.

Newcomer Roy Kent is an over-hyped, so-called prodigy whose unbridled rage and mediocre talent rendered his Premier League debut a profound disappointment.

Your gaze shifts up at him knowingly. Roy can’t help but notice that most of the anger has slipped from your face. “Crimm?”

Roy nods once. “Crimm.”

“Was this your first game?” you ask, and when he nods again, things start to make a little more sense. You sigh, shoulders slumping. “You were seventeen.”

“I was seventeen,” he repeats, reaching out to take the clipping back from you. He only seems marginally surprised that you remembered that. “I was fucking seventeen years old and fucking debilitated by how nervous I was. I didn’t sleep for days before the game and then I went out there, I fucking survived it, and then read that shit. Didn’t sleep for days after it.” He shakes his head. “And then that prick fucking waltzes in here with his notepad and his stupid fucking hair like he didn’t fucking destroy me and wants to write a book about my team? Not a fucking chance.”

The outburst makes you stare at Roy in shock. He’d never mentioned anything like this to you. By the way he spoke of his earlier AFC days at Sunderland, you’d always assumed that it was smooth sailing. That while his career didn’t really take off until he joined Chelsea, he didn’t hold any resentment for anything that had happened. And while this may have seemed insignificant in the grand scheme of things, especially looking back at his career and other things people had said about him, this was Roy. Of course, he’d hold on to something like this.

“So, yeah,” he says, shifting uncomfortably under your gaze. “That’s why I won’t talk to Crimm. I don’t give a shit if you don’t get it, but that’s why.” He motions to you. “I showed you mine, so you show me yours, or whatever the fuck. That's how the counter-Foxtrot works, right?”

You do get it. You understand it better than anyone. But more importantly, you understand why he’d hold on to that. Roy, who could hold a grudge almost as well as you could. Roy, who hated the media and press and the world knowing shit about him more than anyone you knew. Roy, who felt and internalized things so deeply that he didn’t even realize he was doing it. 

It’s the first thing he’s clued you in on in years. Even if it was vague and minimal, he told you. And you know how much he didn’t want to. That’s good enough for you to allow yourself to clue him in too.

(God, he really does know how to get through, huh?)

You blink away from him, gaze focused on the door. “I just…” You clear your throat, throwing a hand up pathetically. “I don’t get why they want to get to know me so bad.”

“Because they’re good fucking lads,” he responds.

“I know. And it’s pissing me off,” you mutter. Your arms are still crossed and right now, that feels like the only thing that’s protecting you. The weight is comforting. “I know it sounds ungrateful and dumb and it doesn’t make sense, but I just wish they’d…”

“...Fuck off?”

“Yeah,” you huff. “That.”

Roy’s head tilts. “Why?”

You don’t want to tell him. You know how stupid he’ll think it is, you know you’ll get told you’re an idiot. But he’s already told you something. In your world of deals, that means something. And your words return again to taunt you.

If this is gonna work, you have to tell me things, okay?

Your eyes shut and a shaky breath escapes your lips. It all comes out at once, like you’re trying to exterminate them. “Because the last time I got to know the team, I got fired,” you tell him, and his entire demeanor shifts. “And I can’t do that again. That can’t happen again. So, if that means I have to be distant and a bit unfriendly, then so be it.”

The inquisitive look he wore vanished entirely, replaced with something harder and much more serious. “What do you mean?”

You can feel your skin start to crawl. Your shirt suddenly doesn’t feel right on your body. It’s too hot in this small Boot Room and it’s all suddenly too much. “N-Nothing,” you say, chest tightening. “It doesn’t matter. You asked for the reason, and I gave it to you. That’s why I’m being weird.”

Roy’s not buying it. He’s seen all your signs and he knows there’s more to this than you’re letting on. You can tell he’s battling whether or not to press forward, and if so, how to do so. Your eyes are pleading for him to drop it. 

“It wasn’t leadership differences,” he decides to land on. He says it like he’s always known. Like it may be confirming another suspicion. But it’s vague enough that you’re okay with it.

You chuckle, but there’s no humor in it. “No,” you say. “Not exactly.”

Roy nods, silence filling the room. He’s still staring at you and you’re starting to think he won’t ever stop. You notice the sliver of anger in his eyes but see it’s more subdued than usual. It’s not directed at you. It’s like he’s filing it away for later.

He speaks a moment later. “Whatever happened there,” he begins, voice low. “It won’t happen here. It would never happen here.”

You swallow the lump in your throat. “I’m starting to get that,” you answer honestly. “But it’s still hard.”

“I know.” Roy says, and the way he nods tells you that he does know. His mouth opens, wanting to say more, but it doesn’t come out immediately. “Just…” His eyes cast up to the ceiling. “If anything, just fucking… speak up in practice more. You’re their coach now. If you don’t want to get fucking personal with them, at least get to know them on the field.”

“I know them on the field,” you reply, because you do. You know your new players inside and out. You’ve studied them. You know their strengths, their weaknesses, what makes them tick. You know what works. “I do.”

“I know that,” is Roy’s immediate response, just like this morning. He points to the door. “But they fucking don’t. And they won’t know it until you fucking show them.”

This time, you look away from him because you know he’s right. A decade ago, Roy was just about fifty-fifty when it came to right and wrong, but now? He was consistently on target. You’re not sure which switch flipped in him or when, but goddamn, was it maddening.

You ask him such as you huff in annoyance. “Since when are you right all the fucking time?”

Roy’s clearly not expecting that, and it’s evident by the way he barks out a laugh. But, he figures, if you’re going to be nice, he supposes he will too. 

“You were gone,” he replies with a chuckle. “Figured I had to pick up the slack.”

Involuntarily, your eyes go soft at his words. They’re kind and truthful and genuinely civil. It’s only for a moment, but Roy picks up on it in an instant. It makes the tiny, less resentful piece of him want to make it happen again, but he tells that piece of him to shut the fuck up.

He watches you as you sigh, shutting your eyes as if you’re readjusting. “Okay,” you finally say. “I’ll be better. I’ll… actually do my job, I guess.”

“About fucking time,” Roy mutters, though it’s slightly encouraging.

“But,” you continue, “I can’t… I can’t train Jamie. I can’t do one-on-one. That’s my non-negotiable.”

Roy wants to ask why. He wants to understand. He knows he’d be shit at helping you through it, but he just wants to get it. However, the look on your face keeps him from saying what he wants to. So, instead, he simply nods. “Okay.”

The relief you feel is written across your face. “Okay,” you agree. Then, you add, “I, uh, did tell him to ask you, though.”

Roy’s expression goes blanker than usual. “You fucking what?”

“You’re a good one-on-one trainer,” you offer, voice going up an octave. “I’m, like, your top reference.”

“Yeah, but you’re you,” Roy responds. “I can work with you. Not Jamie Tartt.”

You shrug. “What’s the difference?”

“Jamie Tartt is a fucking prick,” he states, as if it’s obvious. “You’re infuriating. And annoying. And a fucking headache. But he’s all those things on top of being a fucking prick.”

Your lips part at this, squinting at Roy. “I’m sorry, and you wanted me to train him?”

Roy doesn’t acknowledge your comment. “I’m not fucking training him.”

“I’m not saying you have to,” you respond, raising your hands in surrender. “I’m just letting you know that I passed him off to you.”

“Appreciate it. I’ll tell him to fuck off.”

“Glad you have a game plan.” While those words were lilted with annoyance, your next are a bit softer. “He… seemed a bit worried about Zava.”

Roy’s brow draws slightly. “Zava?”

“He tried to play it off,” you explain, “but he wasn’t subtle. Jamie’s obviously used to being the best on the team. I’m not sure he’s loving the competition.”

“The twat will get over it,” Roy says. “Sometimes you’re the best on the field, sometimes you’re not. That’s fucking life.”

You shoot him a look. “I don’t think he shakes things off like that. He’s not like you and me where we either don’t care or immediately use that type of shit for motivation.” Your eyes cast up to the ceiling as you speak, spilling out every thought you’ve had since Jamie came to you. “Guys like him, they need that reassurance. That ego needs to be healed when it’s been shot down, and then they’re finally ready to get motivated…” You trail off as soon as you see the way Roy’s looking at you. Head-tilted and slightly satisfied. “What?”

“Nothing,” he replies with a shrug. There’s a ghost of a smile on his face. “It’s just nice to get to see you finally fucking coaching.”

Warmth rises up your neck. It’s a mixture of embarrassment, being called out, and something else. The feeling makes you itch and in an attempt to shake it off, you shrug. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” 

There’s a brief moment of silence and for a second, you think he’s going to make you sit in this air. However, he seems to take pity on you. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

It’s a soft agreement, one that you weren’t sure you were going to get. But it takes a bit of the weight off nonetheless. “Thank you.”

“He’s still a prick,” he adds, like he can’t help himself. 

You nod in faux assurance. “Sure, Grandad.”

Roy casts his eyes to the ceiling. “Fuck’s sake, not you too.”

You can’t help it. You laugh. For the first time in eight years, Roy sees you laugh. It’s quiet. Light, even. But it’s lovely. It’s sweet. Roy can’t believe he’d allowed himself to go so long without hearing it. 

Yet another silence passes between you two. Maybe it’s to savor the moment. Maybe it’s to remember. Perhaps it’s both. Perhaps it’s neither. 

Whatever it is, it suddenly feels way too comfortable. There’s a split second where you’re back in 2015, just before everything went to shit. And that can’t happen. You can’t allow that to happen.

However, before you can move past that, Roy just has to catch you off guard. “So, you’ll start fucking coaching and I’ll… consider training with him.” He says the words like they take effort. And then, he looks at you and completely throws you off. “Should we shake on it?”

The words are hesitant and you know why. You have to refrain from taking a step back from him simply because of the weight that they carry. All you can do is stare at his outstretched hand. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say his hands were shaking.

But, you snap yourself out of it, and when you meet him in the middle, you’re certain yours are.

He holds eye contact with you as you make the agreement, hands grasped around each others with the intention of a promise. It’s too real. Too familiar. Too… much.

So, before you can freak out in front of him, you cut it short with a nod and remove your hand from his. You glance out the window of the Boot Room door to see the team pass by, all packed up and ready for their outing. One you know you should be joining, but just aren’t there yet.

When you turn back to him, the small smile on your face is tight. But you’re truthful when you say, “Thank you.”

Roy doesn’t need to ask what for. He knows. Of course he does. 

But luckily for you, he seems to be on the same page, blinking at you like he’s pulling himself out of some self-induced trance. “Right.” He awkwardly returns your nod, avoiding eye contact as he heads for the door. “Don’t make me say any of that shit again.”

And, as soon as the door shuts behind him, you’re finally left with more answers than questions about your place at Richmond for the first time all week.

(The same can’t be said for your questions about Roy. But, you figure, what else is new?)

PRESENT DAY. (MID-BOOT ROOM FIGHT WITH ROY KENT, 2023)

If you hadn’t been so consumed by your conversation with one of your fellow coaches, you would have noticed the other two watching you from the window. And as for questions, they had many.

The first is asked by Ted, approximately one minute after he and Beard had stationed themselves outside of the door. “Should we break it up?”

Beard shook his head slowly. “They’ve been tiptoeing around this one since she started,” he replied. “We break this up now, you might lose an arm.”

Ted shifted back on his heels. “You don’t think we can get them to hug it out, do you?”

“That’d be the reason you lose the arm, pal.”

“Yeah, Roy’s not much of a hugger, is he?” The silence that passed between them spoke as an agreement. The two watched as you crossed your arms over your chest, rolling your eyes as Roy seemed to reprimand you. “Do you think this thing between them goes deeper than he let on?”

Beard’s response was immediate. “Oh, yeah. Way deeper.”

“Did we sign ourselves up for something crazy? Something we can’t handle?”

“Oh, yeah,” Beard repeated. Then, he shook his head. “But nothing we can’t handle.”

“Well, then, what do we do?” Ted asked. “Because we can’t have them ‘fine, fine’-ing each other like they’re Sam and Diane all season. The kids ain’t fine, fine, Coach.”

Ted turned to his friend, who’d gone quiet. He followed his sightline to the corner of the Boot Room where Will was hiding, looking as though he were praying to any God who would listen that the two of you wouldn’t notice him.

Pity overtook both of their expressions. “I…” Beard drew out, brow furrowing as he watches Roy pull out his wallet. “...may have an idea.”

When Beard did look over at Ted, there was an excited look in his eye and a wide smile threatening to break out. “I know that voice,” he said. “Am I thinkin’ what you’re thinking?”

“Parent Trap ‘em?” he asked.

Ted grinned. “We really should go on The Newlywed Game.”

“It wouldn’t be fair. We’d sweep.”

LONDON OLYMPICS. (LATE JULY, 2012)

It’s nearly three in the morning when Roy tells you that your next rally will be your last for the night.

To say you’re thankful would be an understatement. Your lungs are screaming at you and have been for the last fifteen minutes. You can feel the early signs of shin splints with every move you make, and you already know you’re going to wake up tomorrow morning with a ridiculous amount of pain in your hamstrings. 

But you didn’t care. That didn’t matter. What mattered was getting your newfound training companion to shut the fuck up. And the only way to do that was to beat him in this little game he created to a pulp.

It was tragically ironic to find that Roy Kent, a man who was typically of so few words, couldn’t seem to keep quiet when he was playing against you. He had a special sort of talent for getting under your skin, somehow saying the exact thing that would press a specific button that you didn’t even know you had. He was frustrating. Infuriating, even. And there was no shot in hell you were losing to this jackass, especially when you’d managed to tie the score.

(But you’d be lying if you said that you weren’t having at least a little bit of fun.)

However, the relief on your face at his declaration is palpable, and your expression makes Roy raise his brows. “Don’t tell me you’re fucking tired,” he says. “We’ve still got laps to run.”

You throw your head back with an exaggerated groan. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. I know,” you say. “Can we just go so I can beat you and leave?”

Roy’s head tilts. “You’re confident for someone who looks like she’s gonna drop fucking dead.”

“Like you look any better,” you shoot back, eying the grass and dirt that had stained his legs. 

To be fair, you hadn’t lied. Roy didn’t look any better than you did. He was just as roughed up, if not more. There was a sense of pride in that, knowing that he’d had to try as hard to beat you as you did for him. You felt equal. This game had never been equal before.

He seems to know this too. “Well, fucking get on with it then.”

The ball’s at your feet, and you stare down at it as you try to plan how you’re going to attack. What haven’t you done yet? What won’t he be expecting? How can you ensure that--

“Don’t fucking think about it,” you hear him say. When you look up at him in annoyance, he shakes his head. “Just fucking do it.”

But you can’t not think about it. Thinking is what you do. It’s how you stay ahead, it’s how you’ve beaten him in this little game before, it’s how you’re going to beat him now. 

But now you’re frustrated. You wanted to get this over with and prove him wrong and show him up. You’re so sick of hearing him say that and you kick the ball out in front of you to shut him up. And suddenly, you’re playing.

He’s guarding you before you know it. You cut the ball to your left, kicking it through his legs as he tries to meet you. You push your elbow against his chest as you chase down the ball, gritting your teeth when you feel him whip around to recover from his misstep. His chest presses against your shoulder, repeatedly bumping into you each time he works to get the ball from you.

“Come on, Fourteen,” he chides in your ear. “Finish me off like you said you would.”

You shove your shoulder into him again. It’s more forceful this time and the soft sound he makes in response feels like a victory. He drops back to follow you to the goal, which gives you the space you need to maneuver your body into a more comfortable position. 

You’re just outside the box, but you know that whatever move you make next, he’s going to be there to block it. You know his tricks. You’re on track to figuring out how his mind works on the field. Maybe you can outsmart him. Rely on your footwork to psych him out and—

Roy then seems to see you thinking. And he chooses that time to attack. So, footwork it is.

As he nears you, you roll the ball in the opposite direction, keeping an eye on him in your peripheral. Your foot pulls the ball back in a V, then you move it forward to creep into the box. 

He’s still in front of you. While you were quicker, Roy was never one to give up. It was what made him so great on the pitch and so annoying to play against. An idea then sparks: if you can get him to bite, get him close enough to you, you can chop the ball to get him off balance, then spin to get a better angle on the goal.

So, you do exactly that. Or, at least try to.

You swear he can see in your head. That he can read your mind and every thought that crosses it. Because while you do catch him slightly off guard, he recovers the second you try to spin. He’s behind you and before you know it, you’re the one caught off balance. He kicks the ball away from you and out of the box, leaving you to fall on your ass and stain the backs of your thighs.

Fuck. Fuck.

You’re on your back again for the second time today, eyes screwed shut in frustration and disappointment. How had he done it? You swore that was going to work. It’d worked millions of times before, how could it possibly have gone wrong now?

There’s a piece of you that wants to cry. That frustration, that exhaustion, that need to prove yourself had all come crashing down onto your chest, and here you were, in the same place you were before the drill had started.

You don’t even want to look at him. You’re almost too embarrassed to do so. You know that it’s all a part of your deal, that you’re supposed to fail and get better with him, but it’s still a kick in the teeth to end a session like this with a loss. 

You’re able to feel Roy’s presence before you hear him. “Get up,” he tells you.

A loud, shaky sigh escapes you. “I need a second before you run me into the ground, Coach.”

If he notices how your voice wavers, he doesn’t say anything. “Not your coach,” he replies, though he’s speaking softer. “But I’m not running you either.”

You crack an eye open. “Really?”

“C’mon,” he says, holding his hand out for you to take. “Up.”

You stare at his hand for a moment, then cast your eyes up to the starless sky with another heavy sigh. Then, you begrudgingly take his hand, allowing him to yank you up with a strength you’re not expecting.

His hand lingers in yours as you get your bearings. It’s rough and just a bit clammy, but you can’t imagine yours are any better. You’re not looking at him when you remove your hand from his, but find his eyes when he taps your shoulder.

“C’mon,” Roy repeats. He nods over to the track around the field. “Let’s go.”

“I thought we weren’t running,” you mutter.

He glances at you from over his shoulder. “We’re not fucking running,” he responds. “But you need a cool down. Stop your fucking whining and walk with me.”

A scowl appears on your lips at his words, but you relent and follow him. “Fine.”

It’s quiet between you two, giving you a moment to catch your breath and think about what just happened. While you’re thankful that you don’t have to do your laps, so still can’t believe you lost. Yes, it’s just practice, and yes, it doesn’t mean anything, but it’s still… it’s the principal of it. You’ve never been a good loser. You’ve never—

“We need to work on your footwork,” Roy says abruptly, interrupting your train of thought. You glance over at him. “It’s your biggest weakness besides your overthinking.”

A frown pulls at your lips. “My footwork is fine.”

“Yeah. Exactly. It’s fine,” he agrees. “And that’s the fucking problem. Nobody out there can fucking catch you, so you’ve never had to worry about it. But the second you get tighter and more concise…” He shakes his head. “Pair all that with your unpredictability and fucking annoying defense, you’ll blow them all out of the fucking water.”

Pride bubbles in your stomach and rises to your chest. You know that you’re good. And you know that he thinks you’re good. He wouldn’t have taken a chance on you if he hadn’t. But it’s still validating to hear. Especially from him.

But still, you can’t help yourself; “I’m not annoying.”

Roy scoffs, but you can tell he’s biting back a smile. “You are. You’re like a fucking gnat.”

“I am not a gnat,” you gasp. 

“You are. Fucking buzzing in my ear and shit.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being aggressive. You’d know something about that, hypocrite.” When Roy huffs a laugh and shakes his head, you bat him on the arm. “I’m serious. When I crossed you up and hit that corner goal toward the end?” You blow an exaggerated breath and raise your brows at him. “I haven’t seen you that mad since that Arsenal game in like, 2007.”

His response to your jab isn’t what you expected. While you’d anticipated a classic eye roll, a reaction of his that you’d become very familiar with, you get a look of intrigue. “You watched that game?”

“Of course I did,” you respond. Your lips tug into a smile. “I’m a huge Arsenal fan.”

Then you get the eye roll. “You must have been fucking distraught to see your team lose.”

“It was heartbreaking,” you say. “It was fun to see you get thrown out, though.”

“That was a fucking bullshit call,” he scoffs.

“You almost broke Lewis Fox’s leg. And then tried to fight him from the ground.”

“Exactly. Fucking bullshit,” he says. “It shouldn’t count when he’s a prick.”

You allow for a beat of reflection before you respond. “Yeah, he really is a prick, isn’t he?”

That gets you something you haven’t seen from him yet. A smile. A real one, where you can see teeth and all. It’s jarring. And suddenly the pride you felt from his compliments is nothing compared to the feeling you get from this.

It grows as Roy carries on. “The fucking King of them.”

“Prince,” you say in disagreement. “He’s too much of a jackass to honor with a King title. Prince Prick. Duke of Prickland. Court Jester. Whatever.”

“Court Jester?”

“Absolutely,” you reply. “He’d look good in the stupid little hat, too. Would hide the fact that he’s balding.”

Roy barks out a laugh. “He’s going fucking mental over that.”

“I can imagine.” Teasingly, you add, “I guess that’s the one thing you’ve got over him.”

“My hair?”

“Yeah. You’ve got enough to share with him.”

Roy shakes his head again, smile refusing to fade. “Well, thank fucking God it’s something important.”

“Hey, football skills are forever. Hair starts to fade when you hit twenty-five.” You shrug and return his grin. “I’d say you’re winning this one, Kent.”

A labored sigh leaves Roy, like he can’t believe he’s having this type of conversation with you. Frankly, you can’t believe you’re talking like this with him. You’re talking like… friends. It’s strange. Especially after he completely shut you down when talking before.

That thought sinks deep into your mind and you know it won’t go away until you address it. Huh. Maybe he’s right. Maybe you do overthink.

Before you can question that further, you’re speaking. “Hey. I—” You awkwardly cut yourself off as his gaze returns to you. “I just… I wanted to say that I’m sorry if I like, overstepped a boundary back there.” He continues to look at you in response, cueing you to elaborate. “Asking about Sunderland. Leaving your family. That.”

The second you say ‘Sunderland,’ he looks away from you. You grit your teeth as you refrain from cringing, hoping you didn’t ruin what was almost a normal, nice, and friendly moment. That anxiety makes you talk more. 

“You don’t owe me any answers, or anything. We can keep this professional and talk about soccer and how much we both hate Lewis Fox only.” Roy still hasn’t looked at you. “You don’t have to talk to me at all, if you don’t want to. I’m just… pretty open. And I forget that other people aren’t the same way. So…” You trail off, fiddling with your fingers. “I’m sorry.”

He’s quiet for approximately ten seconds. Each feels like agony as you rot in the awkwardness of the silence. Then, he says, “Don’t… fucking apologize for trying to get to know me.”

Well, that’s not what you were expecting at all. “O-Oh.”

“I’m fucking obviously going to talk to you,” he continues, in a way that makes it sound like he’s choosing his words carefully. “But there’s just certain things that I… really fucking hate talking about. And that was one of them.”

You’re nodding before he’ss finished speaking. “Completely understandable.”

Roy looks over at you cautiously. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you agree. “Like I said, I’m not entitled to anything. You just let me know when I’ve crossed a line or something.” Your eyes light up in a way that Roy refuses to find endearing. “We can have a codeword or something.”

“A codeword?” he asks wearily.

“Yes, Roy. A codeword.” You stop him in the middle of the track. “Okay, Kent Rule number one. If either of us—”

“What the fuck is a Kent Rule?”

“If either of us,” you repeat, “don’t want to talk about something, we say…” Your eyes scan the field. “Goalpost.”

Roy blinks at you. “That’s a stupid fucking codeword.”

“Okay, you don’t get to shit on my idea and then shit on my codeword, dick,” you say, ignoring the tiny smile that’s growing on his face. “Let me hear yours.”

His eyes scan you up and down. “Gnat.”

“Oh, look who’s fucking annoying now.”

“I think that’s a great one.”

“I think I’m back on Lewis Fox’s side now,” you mutter. Before Roy can roll his eyes, you point at him in excitement. “Fox! That’s our codeword.” Then, you interrupt yourself, by throwing both your hands out. “Wait. Foxtrot. That sounds so much more legit.”

Roy’s had only gotten blanker as you spoke. “I think you should be institutionalized.”

“Kent Rule number one,” you say, ignoring him. “If you don’t want to talk about something, say Foxtrot. We move on, no questions asked.”

“Great.”

“But,” you continue, “you only get one Foxtrot a day.”

“Only fucking one?” he asks.

“Why are you saying it like that?”

“Because you ask a lot of fucking questions.”

You huff. “Fine. No one-a-day rule. But use them sparingly.”

“Can I Foxtrot this conversation?” Roy questions.

You don’t give him the reaction he clearly desires. “Look at you, you’re getting the hang of it!” you cheer, clapping him on the shoulder. “So, does Kent agree to the Kent Rule?”

You receive yet another exasperated shake of the head. “Fucking fine. Yeah. I agree.”

“Wonderful,” you reply, sticking your hand out to him. When he looks down at it, you wiggle your fingers. “We have to shake on it.”

“What?”

“Because it’s not a real agreement if we don’t shake on it,” you answer, as if it’s obvious. “Duh.”

Roy stares at your hand, then at you, and then back at your hand. After a ridiculous amount of time, his shoulders slump in defeat. His hand meets yours and when it does, you beam.

“Institutionalized,” he tells you as you two shake. “I’m fucking serious.”

“And risk your life being way less exciting without me in it?” You put a hand over your heart. “You’d miss me too much.”

And when you grin at him, there’s a piece of Roy that already knows that there might just be a sliver of truth in that.

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