#we feel the way we do out of genuine love for a series that inspired and helped us so much

[owlyflufff]

haikyu's dumpster batte is only going to be around 1 hour and 24 minutes, oh it's genuinely bokuakaover

[indierpgnewsletter]

Playing Rabbits in an RPG from 1976

(This continues our 2024 series, 10 Games From The First 10 Years. First published in the Indie RPG Newsletter)

It is genuinely surprising to me that in 1976, within two years of D&D coming out, someone published a game about being rabbits. It makes a little more sense when you realize that it was inspired by Watership Down and the designers were, I believe, zoologists or something similar. But having read it, the premise is the least interesting part of this game. It has so many fascinating little ideas.

Bunnies & Burrows is a game about rabbits … but these aren’t just rabbits, they fight, explore, gamble, study herbs, see the future, parley with beetles, find love, have children – and the list goes on. The end result are characters that ironically feel more human than you’d imagine.

As I play more games, I learn about games, sure, but I’m also learning a lot about myself. And a rule of thumb has slowly emerged: I want to play games that lead to interesting, surprising, unique things being said by the players. I’ve sometimes phrased it as “people want to say cool shit at the table”. I’m people.

Bunnies & Burrows starts with D&D as a jumping off point – there’s that old, familiar rolling 3d6 down the line to get your stats. But that’s more or less where the similarities end. You have rules for fighting but it’s not D&D combat – this game is often described as having “the first martial arts system” but what this means is that fighting is mostly weapon-less and involves declaring actions that flow into each other as patterns or c-c-combos. Basically, some actions set up other actions – you can’t Rip into another rabbit unless you already pulled off a Bite & Hold in the last turn. Some actions like Run aren’t possible if you’ve just done a Pin or a Rip in the previous turn and so on. I didn’t actually get to play out a fight but these rules got me grinning.

And the whole thing is like that. The study and application of herbs is meant to be a little puzzle where through trial-and-error and dice rolls, you slowly figure out what’s good for you and what isn’t. The languages and persuasion rules mean that certain characters can become envoys to other species. Because a language can mean the difference between things turning violent and a peaceful negotiation between rabbits and a mother scorpion that has accidentally wandered into their warren.

Don’t get me wrong. Most of these little pieces are eccentric and inelegant – always more convoluted than you’d like but still a major leap forward in playability because in the end, it’s a d100 roll under a target number. All the fiddliness – and there’s a lot of it – lies in the absolutely esoteric ways this game invents for calculating that target number. But I find it easy to forgive this in an old game, especially when the most interesting part of the game doesn’t lie in the mechanics but the negative space the rules seem to create.

The donut hole in the centre of this game – fruitful void? uncrowded centre? – is the question: What is rabbit society like? This is a setting question – or rather, a system of relation question – that is never asked but it must be answered. The mechanics have some opinions. For example, every player picks a profession when they make a character – Empath, Seer, Storyteller, Scout, and so on. Some of this comes from Watership Down, which can, of course, be your ready-made answer – it’s the unstated but obvious setting sourcebook for this game. But if you don’t go down that route, you’ve got a juicy problem: What do we value? What do we despise?

[brabblesblog]

Ch 18: — and there is none upon earth that I desire beside thee.

Astarion has ascended, and she has stayed with him. Life in the Crimson Palace isn’t as idyllic as it seems. Is there a chance for their relationship to go back to how it was? Or is it too late for the Ascendant and his consort?

This series is about Ban, my Tav, and the Vampire Ascendant. Will be angst and smut, with sprinkles of fluff.

This fic is a softer take on Ascendant!Astarion and of the changes he undergoes after the rite. Can Ban handle the change, and if a chance came, would she choose to run? And can the Ascendant win her back in time? Inspired by the concept of vampire wives and that IGN interview with Larian that discussed the ascension.

Professionally edited by @editing-by-night

Halsin's gift gets put to use.

Read on AO3.

Masterlist.

Together with Halsin’s gift there was a leatherwork harness and a bottle of oil. Ban bit her lip, holding the items in her hands as Astarion stripped off the rest of his clothing.

“I did bathe in the hope you’d be agreeable to this,” he said excitedly, tossing his underwear onto the pile with the rest of his clothes. He scanned her face, saw her nervousness, and frowned.

“We don’t have to,” Astarion ventured, “If this isn’t something you want, then just say the word.”

“Have you ever done - what am I saying? Of course you have.” Ban fidgeted. “Is this… is this something you think you might like?” she asked instead.

His ears reddened again. “Yes. It could be enjoyable, in theory, but I haven’t done it with anyone I genuinely wanted. It will be as new for me as it is for you, in the ways that matter most.”

“Then why not bring it up before?” She looked at the wooden cock on the bed. It wasn’t too large, but Halsin had made the phallus curved.

“Ban.” Another look of impatience crossed Astarion’s features. “I know you’re flustered, but think a little. When in the last, gods, year, have we had time to consider things like this? Half the time we were trying to survive out there, and the other half we-”

Another sigh. “You know.”

She nodded. Fair enough. Ban set the bottle down, picking up the cock instead. She silently threaded it through the harness, careful not to scratch the protective coating on the wood, then looked back to her husband.

“I don’t know how to do this. Don’t be disappointed if I don’t perform well.” Ban held the cock gingerly in her hands, nervousness evident in her face.

“I have enough experience for the both of us, trust me,” Astarion said, eyes softening, “And it’s you. You never have to do anything as a performance to make me feel good. You just have to be you.”

Astarion’s pulse thrummed with excitement as he sat on the edge of the bed, watching Ban peel off her clothes and step into the harness, securing it around her hips. “Grab that chair, love, and bring it here.” He gestured in front of him.

She did as asked then sat down, fidgeting a little apprehensively. They faced each other, knees touching. The bottle of oil sat beside Astarion, unstoppered and ready for use.

He drew his legs up, the soles of his feet flat on the bed, offering his backside to her. He leaned back, propping himself up on his elbows to watch her, torn between equal parts anticipation and worry.

Will she be alright, doing this for me? What if she doesn’t really want to do this-

That line of thought evaporated as firm, strong hands wrapped around each ass cheek, spreading him open.

“Pretty,” Ban crooned, her tone perfectly even. He was a perfect shade of pink, clean and begging to be fucked.

Astarion raised an eyebrow at her. “Is that all you’re going to s-”

His remark cut off in a choked moan as she leaned forward and her tongue made contact with his entrance. Her first lick was hesitant, but hearing his response gave her more courage. The next passes of her tongue were more insistent, tracing slow, drawn out circles.

“Gods, Ban. That’s wonderful, but ah- you could go faster.”

Astarion stared at Ban unblinkingly; the sight was one he thought he’d remember for the rest of eternity. His hands dug into the sheets, cock twitching in anticipation.

“I could,” she conceded, lifting her head to meet his gaze, “But do I want to?”

He looked delectable, spread open for her like this. His ears were the pinkest she’d ever seen them, his cock already beginning to moisten at the tip.

“Ban.” He glowered. “I thought you said you had no experience in this. You ought to let me lead.”

Even as the words left him he knew he was powerless. He’d do anything to feel her tongue again.

“No experience at all,” she agreed, “But when it comes to you? I’m a quick study. Now, stay still.” With that she leaned back in, tongue laving all over his entrance enthusiastically. She traced another slow, firm circle, then plunged her tongue inside.

The moan that escaped him was exquisite, high-pitched and dripping with need.

Ban smirked, her fingers digging into the flesh of his ass to spread his cheeks further apart. Pressing her face flush against his entrance, she thrust her tongue in and out before retreating to lavish him with languid laps. She could feel him trying to rock his hips against her mouth, and she pulled away.

“I’m warning you, Astarion. Behave.”

He whimpered, forcing himself to still. He watched his cock throb, watched the drop of precum glint with the movement.

She resumed her ministrations, her tongue slowly spreading him open. Satisfied, she drew back.

“Perfect,” she cooed at him, “You know that, don’t you?” She reached for the bottle of oil, pouring some onto her palm.

It took him a moment to register her words; he opened his mouth to reply, but all that came out was a strangled gasp as her oiled finger slowly slipped inside of him.

She was enjoying exploring a new part of his body, enjoyed even more how much he was enjoying it. The tightness and gentle suction tugging on her index finger was oddly arousing. She pressed carefully on, watching him intently for signs of distress. She could see his cockhead gleaming with precum, his thighs twitching, his chest heaving. He was so responsive, so beautiful.

His eyes locked onto her face “More,” Astarion gasped out, his voice heavy with need, “Please.”

She smiled softly at him, slowly adding a second finger. She gently stretched him, moving deeper with a slow, measured pace she knew would drive him near to madness.

“Faster,” he hissed, “I’m not some godsdamned virgin-”

The fingers inside him curled, and he lost what little coherence he had left. His face went blank in shock as he realized she’d found his spot, and then the pleasure of it overtook him. He moaned so desperately it was nearly a sob. His back arched as his head fell back and his grip on the sheets tightened so suddenly he nearly tore through them.

Ban couldn’t remember a time he’d ever looked more lovely. She curled her fingers again, pleased with the sight of him writhing under her touch, his cock twitching, sweat beginning to bead on his pearlescent skin. She paused for a moment, hesitating.

“Was that okay, Astarion? Tell me what you want.”

He lifted his head to look at her, nodding fervently, not trusting himself to speak.

He took a deep breath to steady himself. “I’ll let you know when I’m ready. Just keep… keep doing that for now.”

She nodded, giving him a soft kiss on his inner thigh. “You’re so beautiful like this.”

A quiet whimper was his only reply.

Her fingers resumed, working him open with a gentleness that set his heart ablaze with love. It took a little longer than it could have, but he wasn’t complaining. He savored the feel of her inside him, stretching him open, making sure he was ready and not in pain. Loving him.

Astarion enjoyed her exploration with a patience he didn’t normally possess, unwilling to hurry her along, no matter how eager he was for the next step. He could feel the tenderness in her touch, her concern for his pleasure, and that was everything. He relaxed further, his tightness slowly ebbing with the overwhelming buildup of pleasure and desire.

Finally, he was so keen to be filled he couldn’t stand it.

“Ban. It’s time.”

A soft chuckle escaped Ban as she drew her fingers out, kissing his thigh again. She watched as he reached for the prestidigitation scroll Halsin had included with his gift, casting it over her while she repositioned herself. She leaned back on the chair, feeling cleaner than she had since they’d left the palace, waiting until his eyes were on her. Pouring more oil into her palms, she made a show of generously spreading the oil over the shaft of the wooden cock, eyes locked onto his.

“Come ride me then, Astarion,” she crooned, her lips curving in a teasing smile.

He got up a little clumsily, cock bobbing as he straddled her lap. She grasped his hips, guiding him while he slowly lowered himself onto her.

As he sank down, his weight pressed the base of the wooden cock harder against her; she instinctively rolled her hips up to meet him, earning his grunt of pleasure.

Astarion settled, shifting a little to get comfortable. The cock spreading him felt pleasant, the feeling of being full almost too much, but oh so welcome. He rested his hands on her shoulders, meeting her gaze. His eyes were lust-blown, curls sweat-damp and glued to his forehead.

Ban’s grip on his waist tightened, holding him firmly in place. Slowly, methodically, she began to thrust, fucking him gently.

The mewl that escaped him was completely involuntary. He wanted more, needed more, and so he began to move his hips, angling himself into her thrusts. With every movement the cock inside him hit his spot; he pleasured himself on it eagerly, rocking back and forth. His untouched cock shone, twitching, begging for stimulation, the ache only adding to his pleasure. His gliding sped up, his heart racing, his arousal slowly approaching its peak.

Ban leaned forward to press her forehead against his. She could feel his breaths as he panted, desperately chasing his release.

“Close?” she murmured, her hands moving from his waist to his thighs, massaging lightly.

He nodded, his hips rocking faster; she closed the gap between them to kiss him.

He took her hand and placed it over his chest. “Feel,” he whispered, “For you. Only you.”

As delirious with lust as he was, the love he felt for her was even more overwhelming, each emotion feeding and intensifying the other in a dizzying spiral that left him breathless.

Ban felt the frantic beating of his heart as his hips rocked again and again. His rhythm slowly became erratic, and his eyes closed.

She considered how to heighten his pleasure further, then softly caressed the head of his cock.

Astarion whined, his body writhing at the bolt of pleasure that shot through him, the sensation almost pushing him over the edge.

“Not yet,” she warned, “You’ll have to beg me for it.” She ran her finger over his tip, spreading his precum in slow circles, but doing nothing more.

She could feel him throbbing, wonderfully hard and hot against her fingers; she knew it wouldn’t be long at all.

He attempted to glare at her, but only managed a pout. He gave up, expression changing to one of wanton, desperate need.

“Please, Ban. Let me come.”

She didn’t need to be asked twice. Ban captured his lips, wrapping her hand around his neglected, aching cock.

It did, indeed, not take long at all. She stroked him a few times and he plummeted over the edge into bliss. He shivered head to toe, lips opening in a noiseless gasp; his head flew back and he arched into her. His legs spasmed; she quickly steadied him with her free hand, gently holding his back as he came undone.

She continued stroking him, milking every drop of come until it was just shy of too much and he shuddered.

When he finally opened his eyes again, she lifted her stained hand to her mouth, sucking each finger methodically, gazing at him adoringly.

“You…” Astarion shook his head. He looked down; seeing both their bodies streaked with his spend sent another shiver of satisfaction racing through him. After such an intense experience, he didn’t quite have his vocabulary back yet. Instead he gave her a quick kiss.

He slowly raised himself up off the wooden cock, gingerly taking a seat on the bed. Ban stood, removing the harness before joining him.

The moment she was in bed he pulled her close.

“Would you want something for yourself too?” he asked. He would gladly reciprocate, but he was feeling exhausted.

She shook her head, smiling softly at him. “Tonight was for you and I enjoyed giving it to you. That’s enough for me.”

He planted a kiss on her cheek. “Thank you,” he whispered, “It… it helped.”

He felt valued, knowing that she did this for his pleasure; that she cared enough to attempt it for him. She had been so gentle and attentive. It was exactly what he’d needed.

Ban hummed, her own eyes drifting shut. “I love you.”

As challenging as things had been, she was grateful to be here with him; to be trusted with this side of him. Being given that trust…it aided in assuaging her lingering doubts.

“I love you too,” he mumbled as he slipped into trance.

She stayed conscious for a few more moments more, her head on his chest, listening to his heart slow as he rested.

Forever, she mused, wouldn’t be so bad after all.

[superhoeva]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐘: 𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊 𝐎𝐍𝐄

next chapter | series masterlist | main masterlist

⬩ pairing(s) sexologist!francisco "frankie" morales x college student!female!reader

⬩ warning(s) very inaccurate scientific study methods (this could not happen in real life without someone going to jail, i think lol), language, flirting, sexual tension, scientific talk about genitals, safe sex practices, pcos (mentioned), endometriosis (mentioned), commentary on unbalanced male domination of sexual spaces, Spanish nicknames/pet names, smut smut smut, somewhat-guided masturbation, reader hs nipple pircings, dirty talk, mdom-ish!frankie, pussy drunk!frankie, consent checks, oral sex (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), big hands!frankie, bodily fluids, doctor/patient relations, the whole "we want to but we can't but we might have to anyways" kind of vibes, some aftercare, pov switches (reader's pov uses "dr. morales. frankie's pov uses "frankie.")

⬩ author's note happy new year! starting 2024 off with a bang (literally, ha) of a new series. as mentioned before, this was inspired by an audio series created by anonyfun35 on the erotic audio site quinn (very much recommend the series and entire site if you're looking for more ethical alternatives to regular porn and able to spare a few extra dollars!), which is absolutely heavenly. frankie's been sitting in my heart recently after rewatching triple frontier, and now here we are! here is chapter one, as promised, and i can not wait to share the rest of this series with you all! (p.s. i know some people have asked to be tagged in this, but i no longer do tag lists. for those who want to keep up with new chapter, i'd recommend following the au: the study tag or just check back here regularly! heeds the warnings. let me know if i've forgotten any. drink your water. love you and hope you enjoy. <3

⬩ word count 6.4k(!)

The lobby is suspiciously comfortable for a doctor’s office. As if the chair you’ve been shuffling back and forth in for the past five minutes. You’ve decided to focus on the mint green tint of the walls to steady yourself. Your breath moves in and out of you in quivering streams, and you have to keep running your tongue over the flesh of your bottom lip to stop your teeth from drawing blood.

A sweet-looking brunette types away at the lobby desk, and she sends you a quick smile when you accidentally catch her eye. You hope the grin you send back doesn’t look as pitiful as it felt.

Straight across from you, there’s a poster of a vagina. Vibrant and contrasting nicely with the color of the wall, it labels each part of the genitalia with pretty, curvy letters. You read over each of them, laughing a little when you get to the clitoris. Maybe you should hang a copy of the poster over your headboard. Just to make it a little easier for those who need it.

Your eyes trail left. Another poster, this one with photos of different types of barrier methods for safe sex; on it is everything from internal condoms to dental dams and a short explanation for when it’s best to use them. You study it with a little more intent than the last one and become so engrossed that you don’t hear the receptionist at the desk until her third calling of your name.

You jolt a little, looking over at her with widened eyes.

“Sorry, yes?”

She smiles at the look on your face, shaking her head.

“It’s alright,” she promises, “that stuff’s actually pretty interesting, right? I just wanted to tell you that Dr. Morales is ready to start whenever you are.”

Ignoring the way your heart jumps a little, you rise from your seat with the best grin you can manage.

“Alright,” you nod, gaze flickering down a nearby hallway, “is it–”

“All the way down and to the right. Can’t miss it. And feel free to let me know if you need anything, before or after. I’m here for whatever you need me for.”

There’s something genuine in her voice that lets your shoulders relax. You smile again, and it feels real this time. “I think I’m okay right now, but I appreciate it, I do. Thank you.”

“No worries. Oh, and honey,” she pauses, taking a second to leave her seat and trot over in front of you. “Remember to breathe. Dr. Morales is a sweetheart, I promise. Wouldn’t work here if that wasn’t the case.”

Melanie the tag on her name reads. She gives you one last wink before returning to her desk. A warm feeling fills you nicely as you watch her for a few more seconds. 

Melanie is nice. You like Melanie. If you could, you’d stay and talk to her for a while, but no sense in keeping the doctor waiting.

As you head down the hallway, the walk feels like it lasts half a second and a thousand years all at once. Time here seems to work a little differently, but maybe that’s only because of how unbelievably fucking nervous you are.

The room is at the end of the hall on the right. Just like Melanie said. The knock you give the door is softer than you mean for it to be, but it pulls open before you get the chance to knock again.

“Hi, welcome. Come on in, please.”

Well, fuck. Fuck.

The first thing you notice isn’t the fluff of hair on his head, or his big, doe, brown eyes–it’s his voice. A deep, pleasing rasp that’s soft and stirring, all of it combining into a sensation that sits snugly right in the middle of your chest. And legs.

You take a second to swallow the spit in your mouth.

“Hi,” you all but mumble back, swallowing again. God, you hope he doesn’t hear the sharp exhale that leaves your nose when he steps to the side with a smile. Your eyes blow up, big and wide, but only for a second as you swiftly compose yourself. You’re here for a scientific study, damn it, not to gape at how fucking gorgeous Dr. Morales is. Even though he is fucking gorgeous. “You’re Dr. Morales?”

“Yes,” he answers effortlessly, and you bite your tongue when he rattles off your name. His voice. You barely remember to nod, and he smiles. Now that you think about it, he hasn’t stopped smiling since he opened the door, and it’s already building a bit of sweat at the back of your neck. “It’s nice to meet you finally. Been seeing your name on all the paperwork, so it’s nice to put a face to it. Especially a face as nice as yours.”

You swallow, again, and can’t hold back the grin his words bring. “Thank you and uh… likewise.”

Dr. Morales pauses and your heart stops at the way his face drops. Then his eyebrows raise slightly like he’s impressed, and he takes in a long breath himself. A gulp of air finally refills your lungs when his smile returns, more of a smirk now.

“Thank you.”

The two words are followed by a small silence. You take it as a chance to look around. Dr. Morales takes it as a chance to glance you over, and his teeth bite into the side of his mouth at the dress you’re wearing. It’s airy and short, stopping just above the middle of your thigh.

He sniffs, clearing his throat.

“Well, if you want to go ahead and get seated, I think it’s best we just start with some introductions to break some ice. Then a short discussion about the study itself, boundaries, things like that. And I know you answered a lot of those types of questions in your application, but I think more authentic answers can come about when speaking, you know, face-to-face. Plus it’ll give us both the chance to get to know each other a little better. Relax before we get to the actual… activities for today’s session.”

You blink.

“You’re doing the… the stuff?”

Dr. Morales blinks.

“Yes,” he starts slowly, eyebrows furrowing. “I’m sorry, was that not what you were expecting? I-It’s in the forms you signed, though I guess it is pretty easy to glance over if you don’t know where to look. But if that’s not something you’re comfortable with, I completely understand. We also have some female doctors participating in the study if you–”

“–I’m comfortable with you doing it.” God, you know interrupting was rude. But the words spill out of you before you can stop them. “Really, I’m okay with it. Just surprised me a little, considering…”

A hard clenching of your teeth doesn’t work to hold back the small grin that sneaks upon your face at the expression on Dr. Morales’s face. He’s gone from warm to faltering and back to warm again, with a hint of delight just in the past few moments. 

“Considering what?”

Dr. Morales squints his eyes as he asks the question. Watching and waiting for your answer with the knuckles of his fingers rubbing across his pink lips. You only let your gaze trail across the action for a short second. Any longer, and you’re sure you’ll melt away.

“Nothing,” you finally breathe with a soft laugh. The muscles in your neck tense and pull as you force your eyes upwards. Back to his eyes. “Sorry, uh… introductions?”

Something in his gaze shifts and he drops his hand.

“Right, right. Uh, feel free to take a seat here while I pull up your file real quick,” Dr. Morales tells you, motioning to the deep red chaise wing chair you didn’t notice until now. You nod, not trusting your voice, and settle into the large chair. It’s even more comfortable than the one in the lobby, and Dr. Morales just barely keeps his smile at how you subconsciously snuggle into the plush.

Other than the blood rushing past your ears, the clacking of his fast typing is the only sound in the room.

Much like the lobby, the room is rather warm for where you are, literally and figuratively. It’s a kind difference from something like the dentist or your normal practitioner. The opposite of the bright, sterile white you’d expected. You can tell the room was put together with the intention of being congenial for whoever steps inside. The velvet couch and nice rug that decorate the space tell you that much.

It seems that Dr. Morales dresses with the same purpose, white coat hanging forgotten on the back of his swivel chair, showing off the taupe button-up that stretches over his impressive set of shoulders. The shirt is tucked into a pair of thick, clean-cut jeans that hug around his waist.

“Alright,” Dr. Morales begins, sliding his chair over a few feet so you can see him a bit better. He smiles as he continues, reading off your name and age, to which you nod and smile back. You make sure the grin is big enough to cover the shiver that runs throughout your body and you don't notice that he didn’t even have to look at the screen when reciting the words.

“Great. Well, as I already told you, I’m Francisco Morales,” he chuckles, “one of the doctors here participating in this study you’ve so kindly agreed to be a part of. We’re really excited about all the knowledge we’re expecting to gain from the study. I, uh, we–we really appreciate you being here.”

“Oh, thank you for the opportunity. I’m also really excited. Never been involved in something like this before, so… yeah. I’m excited.”

Huh. Excited is one of the few words able to come to your mind as you bumble through the sentence. After only a few minutes with the doctor, you’ve found it’s somewhat difficult to form a coherent enough sentence. It’s even harder with him staring at you.

“What made you want to participate, if you don’t mind me asking.”

“Um,” you start without thinking, “part of it was the topic of the study itself, I guess. So many of the things that have to do with sex, at least in my experience, are centered around men and their pleasure and what makes them feel good. So I think it’s refreshing to see something like this.”

“Oh, absolutely. That’s the whole reason for us doing this. I mean, we’ve got gynecologists, hormone specialists, endocrinologists, gender surgeons, and even sex therapists on my team all working together on this.”

“Oh, wow. That’s actually… really impressive,” you breathe out, but Dr. Morales shakes his head.

“It is, but I don’t wanna take all the credit. We’ve got a lot of amazing people working on this thing that’s gonna lead to ways to help women suffering from endometriosis, PCOS, trans women, everyone, really.”

Your eyes soften at the doctor’s words, and you straighten a little.

“Well, now I’m very happy to be here.”

Dr. Morales’s eyes squint with his smile this time. It’s the biggest he’s smiled all week.

“Good. I’m glad. And you’ve already filled out all the financial paperwork? Wanna make sure you get paid for this week’s session as soon as possible.”

“Oh, yeah. That was actually the other reason I signed up. Got some student loan payments coming up, and I could use the extra money.”

Dr. Morales laughs to himself.

“Loan payments are a bitch, aren’t they? Still paying mine off,” He shakes his head. Something about his curse pulls a small chuckle from you.

“Never heard a doctor curse before,” you tell him, and he laughs this time, raising his eyebrows with a shrug.

“Sorry. I’ll try to keep it at bay, but I should warn you… I can have a pretty dirty mouth.”

Whether he knows it or not, Dr. Morales’s voice seems to drop an octave as he speaks. The words are paired with his gaze clouding to something similar to a stirring ardor. It shakes something inside you, rumbling into the depths of your veins, heating you in a way that feels remarkable. In a way that has you clenching and reeling, eyes just barely watering.

He hasn’t even touched you yet, and he’s got you evaporating into a transcendent air of nothing. You brush your hands along the fabric of the skirt of your dress, arms stretching and trying to find some sense of relief. Dr. Morales stares into you, a burning observance of an action that your subconscious therefore controls more than anything. The look is hot and pointed and forces him to take in a long inhale. He squeezes the thin arm of his chair when you finally grant him a soft reply.

“I don’t mind.”

Dr. Morales pauses before letting out a huff. A smirk teases across his lips, and his mouth opens like he’s going to say something. He stops just short of whatever it is, opting to roll his seat a little closer to you while clearing his throat.

His elbows hit the top of his knees, gaze tilting to yours. Unable to hold it, you try to settle for his hands, but that doesn’t seem to calm you at all. You flick your eyes again, this time onto his thighs, but it’s no use.

Damn it.

“Um, so today’s session will revolve around cunnilingus and a some hand stimulation. Uh… sorry. Sorry, I–” Dr. Morales stumbles to a stop and your eyebrows furrow.

“You okay?”

He holds a hand out at the look on your face with a quick nod.

“Yeah, yes, I’m okay. Where was I? Uh… right, so like we talked about a little bit ago, I’ll be the one performing the… stuff, as you called it. And speaking of that, you’re still one hundred percent comfortable with me being to one to do it?” 

“Hundred and ten,” you promise with a bobbing of your head that makes him grin again.

“Okay, then,” he nods back, hands rubbing against the denim of his jeans. “Let’s get started.”

.・゜゜・

You’re going to be the death of him.

He had an inkling of it when you greeted him at the door, those eyes all wide as you took everything in. He was confident about it when you assured him that you’d be alright with the fact that he’d be the one ‘doing the stuff.’ He knew when you didn’t mind his dirty mouth. And he was certain when you'd asked if he was alright.

Dead. That’s what you’ll make him by the end of this study, and he’ll go happy. A little embarrassed also, given how he started sputtering through his sentences like he was twenty years younger.

Frankie’s breath catches a little when he returns to the room after washing his hands. You’re just finishing the tie on the robe he’d provided you with, and he doesn’t realize how flimsy it is until now. It maps across your shape damn near perfectly as you hang your dress on the side of the wingchair.

“Hi,” you breathe out, spinning around. Frankie rakes his teeth over his bottom row of teeth hard.

“Hi,” he blinks back, making sure to brighten his face with a small smile. “Ready?”

You shakily hum your answer, smoothing down your robe to busy your hands. It’s made of silk and feels incredible, but boy is it small. Just barely covering the cheeks of your ass, you might as well be wearing nothing.

“Alright. So, before I forget, let me go ahead and get a swab of the inside of your cheek, just so we have that on record.”

Frankie grabs a long cotton swab and its transport tube off his desk, stepping over to where you stand waiting. He swallows, ordering you to softly open. You obey with no questions asked, dropping your jaws.

Did you mean to stick out your tongue, too? Frankie has no idea, but whatever the answer is, he doesn’t care, not with the rustle he feels in his middle.

“Thank you,” he replies after a few scrubs of your mouth, eyes catching yours briefly before sticking the swab in the tube and placing it back onto his desk. He huffs, turning back around to you. “Now, let’s get you settled on the couch.”

Frankie holds out his hand for you to take without thinking. The regret that runs through him slips away as you place your hand into his grip and let him lead you. His other hand reaches for his chair, rolling it over as he walks with you.

He rubs a gentle thumb on the back of your palm as you sit, hand squeezing into a fist when yours drops from his. Frankie sits in his chair with a grunt, planting his feet on the group, making sure to face you.

The man softens a little at the sight of you, all bunched up into a ball of returned nerves, and he thinks for a moment.

“How about we start with a deep breath, yeah? Relax a little bit before we do anything else?”

You nod and Frankie’s head goes a bit fuzzy for a short moment. You’re so sweet, with your tiny robe and all your nods, like candy. You breathe in deep, just like he says to. Your chest rises with it, and Frankie almost forgets to take in the breath as well.

“Good. Now, how we go from here is up to you,” Frankie starts, hands folding together politely. “Robe can stay on, or you can take it off. Your decision–”

“Robe off,” you speak before he’s finished. He holds back a chuckle. “Sorry. I’m okay with it off if you are.”

Of course, you are. Of course, you are, and so is he.

“That’s absolutely okay with me. As long as you’re comfortable,” he states, and your fingers go to pull at the tie. He shuffles, waiting, and swallows when you pause.”

“Um, is my bra being off okay? I took it off with my dress, didn’t even think about it until now.”

Frankie’s head pivots back to the wine-colored chair. And so you did. There’s more lace than he expects, causing him to stare longer than he means. He turns back to you with his eyes darker than before.

“That’s perfectly fine.”

You nod again, fuck, and finally pull the ties. His heart nearly stops as the silk slips down your shoulder, exposing your naked skin to him, inch by inch.

God, you’re devastating. You devastate him, and he’s going to die a happy, happy man. It’s inappropriate, he knows that, but fuck. Yes, he’s a doctor, but he’s also a man with blood pumping through his veins and down into his cock, which he’s currently shielding with a subtle cupping of his hand.

Your robe continues to fall, and soon enough, nearly all of you is revealed to him. His eyes, working with a mind of their own, fall upon your breasts.

Of course.

“Wow,” is all he says, and the corners of your mouth pull upwards. You peek down, the tips of your barbell piercings shining with every one of your shaky inhales. “Wow, uh… wow.”

“Oh, these. Yeah, I got them a few years ago,” you reveal, setting the robe to the side. “Hurt like hell, but it was worth it.”

“While I definitely agree, I was talking about your… everything. You’re gorgeous, querida.”

Querida. The name is unexpected, yet received by you with dilating pupils. It’s not just the way he says it but the way he says it. You can tell that he means it, every letter. Every syllable, as it falls off his tongue, into your ears, and down to just inside the thin layer of your panties.

It’s the only piece of clothing left on your body, and you’re certain they’re soaked. You can feel yourself seeping through, needing for something to happen. Anything, or you’ll die.

“Thank you,” you murmur back, impatience inching you closer and closer. To what, you don’t know, but you think it’s something special. “Should I go ahead and…?”

Dr. Morales’s gaze oozes down you where you’re slowly parting your legs. It takes him a second to answer.

“Uh,” he interrupts himself with a short laugh, “actually I was going to have you do something else for me first. When you’re, you know, in the act of pleasuring yourself, how do you usually start? Do you… do you dive right in or is there some kind of build-up?”

Legs having paused, you blink. It’s almost impossible to formulate an answer, but somehow you manage.

“Normally, I’d play with my nipples.” God, it sounds so silly when you say it out loud. “Tease myself for a little bit until I’m ready to start.”

The doctor sits back in his seat, still covering his growing member.

“Why don’t you go ahead and do a little bit of that for me?”

There’s that thing again. With his voice, the thing that is causing your organs to convulse and squeeze. Has you scooting a little further back onto the couch with ease and a deep breath.

You hear Dr. Morales suck in one of his own as your legs spread a little further, revealing a large wet splotch in the very middle of your panties. It’s seeped a little into the couch, and you’re not even embarrassed. Your legs more because you want him to see it. You need him to.

A flinch jerks you when the tips of your fingers meet the buds of your breast. You twist and pull, and it feels good. Better than normal with the beautiful doctor watching you do it. They start to pebble around the metal and a few shocks through you.

Leaving your lips is a gasp. Soft and nearly nothing, but it tugs something from Dr. Morales.

“That’s it. Good girl.”

When you gasp again, he bites his lip.

“You like that? You like it when I say that?”

You nod.

“Words, querida.” No matter how much he likes the nod.

“Yes, I like it when you say that.”

“When I say what?”

You hear him chuckle at the small groan you release.

“A good girl.”

Your voice is even smaller now, hoarse with want.

“Good girl.” Another groan from you. “Now, I need you to move a little further down, okay? Slip those pretty panties off for me.”

Your turn.

“You really like them?”

Dr. Morales’s throat bobs at your question you ask while dragging your hand lower. They glide across your stomach to rest just over your center. Pushing onto your clit, your moan is muffled by the way your teeth catch the soft flesh of your lip.

“I do, muñeca,” he assures you. “I really do. They’re almost as pretty as you are.”

You can’t help the full grin that sneaks onto your face. You push against yourself a little harder, and your head falls to the back of the couch. Fingers hooking under the seam, you tug.

Everything feels like it’s moving in slow motion at this moment. You raise your head back up, just to catch the reaction from the doctor, who’s already gazing into your pussy when your eyes refocus. His breathing changes from long, calming inhales, to unsteady suspires.

“Jesus,” he grits out just under his breath when you eventually throw your panties alongside the robe and fully open yourself to him. Clenching around nothing, you relax further into the couch, legs propped and feet settled against the velvet.

Your huffs push out hot when Dr. Morales finally lifts from his seat. You don’t dare look away as he steps forward, towering over you. He bends at the waist, face lowering near your own. He gets so close that, for a split second, you think he’s going to kiss you. Press his pouting lips into yours like you so badly want him to.

His breath fans across your face, but he pulls away before you get to bask in any of the warmth. In his hand is a pillow from the couch that he plops onto the floor.

“Bad knees,” Dr. Morales mumbles, smirking at the dazed look in your eye. You say absolutely nothing, only watching as he drops his knees onto the wide pillow, hands clenching the edge of the couch cushions.

All the doctor does for a tick is stare. He stares and stares, tongue darting out to wet his mouth.

“Keep rubbing for me, hermosa,” Dr. Morales orders. “Just a little more.”

Your pussy clenches around nothing when your fingers dip down and come back sticky with your wetness. A whine exits you, and your head falls again.

“Can you touch me now? Please,” you remember to add at the end, the ache between your legs forcing you to squirm. “Please, I can’t wait anymore.”

A hand on your thigh almost startles you. Your head tips back up to see his palm sitting heavy against your leg.

“This what you want?” He asks, another scalding touch planting itself on your other thigh. His hands give thrilling grips, thumbs landing at the very edge of your dripping lips.

A pathetic nod from you.

“Words, gorgeous,” Dr. Morales tells you, gaze completely unmoving.

Gorgeous. Hm. A new one, but just as effective.

You pant a few more times before pushing out “Yes, that’s what I wanted.”

“Good girl,” he praises, and you’re nearly done for. “Now, if I ask on a scale of one to ten, how turned on are you right now?”

It’s tough to think of an answer. His hands, so big and inching closer and closer to your heat, are melting your thoughts away at record speed. Everything you try to come up with leaves too fast for you to catch them.

“A… a seven,” you sigh, liking the way his eyes twinkle at your response. “Seven.”

Dr. Morales chuckles lowly, looking up at you.

“Seven?” Frankie grins. “I haven’t touched your pussy yet, and you’re already at a seven?”

He waits for an answer but only receives a long whine that makes him want to laugh again. Fuck, you’re cute. And wet enough that your juices ooze out of you with a pretty shine, and it’s all for him.

Honestly, the only reason he’s lasted this long is because this is for science. Because Francisco Morales is a medical professional and needs to have some kind of composure. It’s breaking, though. He knows it, and not just because of the way his hands crawl closer and closer to your pussy. Or because of the ache in his cock that’s straining against the crotch of his jeans. Sucking in a breath at the feeling of it catching against the tight fabric, Frankie scans you.

Your chest, those stunning tits, have a noticeable rise and fall and you watch him. Something in your gaze, an unexplainable force, finally pulls his face down. It’s as close to your pussy as it’s been. He tries to remind himself about the self-control he’s supposed to be possessing, but a few more seconds pass and it’s nowhere to be found.

He starts just off the left side. The first kiss, soft and careful to start easy. Figure out what you like, what you don’t, and what you really like.

Kiss after kiss, his lips press a little harder. Gliding across the skin of your thighs and pelvis, staying in a spot a little long when it elicits a sound or squirm from you.

The pecks turn to full smooches, and he soon enough finds himself right where he wants to be.

Eyes meeting yours, he sinks into you with a long, fiercely slow drag of his tongue. Frankie’s gaze ties into yours, he puckers his lips and sucks. It’s a supple thing that he pairs with a flick of his tongue right across your pearl.

“Oh,” you squeak, unable to continue with anything but another broken sound. When you arch, Frankie’s hand reaches higher to rest against your hip. He had his suspicions that you were a squirmer, but to see it like this, up close is something else. Something special. “Shit.”

God, you taste incredible. Better than incredible, and while he wants to tell you he can’t. There’s no way he’s pulling away from this, so he suffices for his own moan.

“Fuck,” he mumbles against you, mouth lifting to suck a bit harder. The hand not occupied on your hip reaches until his thumb sits just inside your opening. He rubs, delicately, all the way up, only pulling his mouth away to smooth it over the slick skin.

Another moan, this time from both of you when your hips grind upwards. He matches your movements, letting his head dip back down to continue his lick.

After a while, Frankie decides to up it a notch. Delve as much of his mouth as he can against you, lapping and slurping whatever he can catch before it leaks down onto his chin. The sound it makes, your pussy and his soaking lips, is disgusting. Loud, sinful squelches of wetness that he would give anything to hear for the rest of his life.

Yet somehow, what leaves you is even better. A combination of hitching breaths, loud coos, and cries for him to keep going. Just like that, fuck. So he keeps going, just as he is until he can barely breathe.

He yanks away from you with a grunt but makes sure to replace his tongue with his hand. 

“Such a gorgeous pussy,” Frankie husks out, pressing another kiss to your inner thigh while he finishes catching his breath. “What number now, princesa?”

Frankie makes sure to wait until you’re about to answer him when he snakes his tongue into your slit and fucks. His head bobs back and forth, tongue caressing as deep inside of you as he can. His fingers return to your clit, rubbing with ease thanks to the mixture of slick and spit.

“I don’t know, I can’t think of one,” you rush out, and Frankie chuckles. He gives you one last bold lick before pulling away. He has to hold you tighter when you squirm in irritation, nearly sobbing.

Frankie shushes you with a kind pat on your thigh. You don’t have a chance to whine anything out before he hooks an arm of your thighs and tugs you to the edge of the couch. One of your legs hangs just off the couch, so the doctor hitches it over his shoulder.

His eyebrows scrunch, and he focuses his attention on ghosting a few fingers just barely inside of you. He looks up at you and is met with you already looking back, ready and waiting for him to push further.

He pauses in a wait. Not ten seconds pass before you try to thrust his fingers further yourself, but he doesn’t let you.

“All you need to do is give me a number, baby, and I’ll fuck these as deep as you want.”

“Nine,” you whisper, and he spots your hands clench. You must want to touch him.

“Nine,” he repeated, thumb rolling a circle over your clit. “How many fingers to get you to ten?”

“Three, plea–ah,” you mewl out when Frankie slides his middle digit inside you. He lets out his own noise at the way you suck him in.

His hand bottoms out, and you’re already fucking yourself on his finger. “That’s a girl. Already taking my finger so well. Feel so fucking good around me.”

You’re truly a sight to behold as Frankie watches you, skin damp with a slight sheen, curving and grinding against his hand. Speed increasing, almost growls when he bends to lap at your clit. His tongue twirls against the bud of nerves, and he has to close his eyes to stop himself from reaching down and giving his painfully hard cock a squeeze.

Frankie slides in the second and third finger at the same time, and you break. 

You don’t mean to tangle his hair with your fingers, but they do anyway. It’s hard, but you tug them away, clenching the couch instead.

“Sorry. Sorry, I–” you blurt out, breath long gone, but Dr. Morales has none of it. He doesn’t lift from his licking and swirling to grab your hand and tangle your fingers back into his hair. “Fuck me.”

The rhythm he finds is relentless. He pumps knuckles deep inside you, sliding in and out, collecting a residue of thick moisture. He curls his fingers, searching and finding the spongy spot that causes you to tighten your grip on his hair. His fingertips drag across it, over and over, and you fall limp in his grasp.

“Good fucking girl,” he tells you, words slurring together in his pussy-drunken state. “So good for me. Now I need you to cum, alright? Need you to come for me, all over my fingers so I can drink it all up.”

Dr. Morales slurps messily, chin now nearly dripping as he eats at you. Savoring the tang and hint of sweet while his fingers drive with a steady vigor. There’s no way you can stay still now. You arch, twist, and grind into the doctor, propelling him even deeper. He’s reaching somewhere inside of you that you once thought impossible. Taking grasp of you entirely.

You’re close. You’re so close

“I’m clo–fuck, yes, I’m close. Please don’t stop, please,” you whimper.

“Yeah, you are. Squeezing all nice around me, like a good girl. Sucking you into my mouth. Love how you feel on my mouth, baby. And on my tongue and around my fingers. Never gonna forget how you taste. Shit, could come just like this, so I need you to come right now, okay?”

Frankie doesn’t even know what he’s saying, his rambles. They just pour out, some of it incomprehensible as he busies himself with circling and flicking your sensitive clit. 

You sob out one last moan before the damn breaks. He groans along with you at the way your clit throbs against his tongue. His fingers slow, but only a bit as they make sure to rub right against your g-spot.

A choking sound leaves you as you can barely breathe. The air sucks from your lungs almost as hard as Dr. Morales does down below, and your eyes clench shut. You see stars and space, world falling mute, and body quaking with a thick orgasm.

It rolls over you in drowning waves, the euphoric warmth, driving you with an unbearable bliss. You whine, crying out a few tears. Twitching and shivering under the strong hands of Dr. Morales. 

His hold is tender as you work through it, talking to you gently in the pauses he takes from licking you clean.

“Fucking look at you, querida.”

“Did so good for me, so fucking perfect.”

“Can’t wait to get you back in here next week.”

Only some of the words make it to your ears. The blood rushing makes it hard to understand, but just the sound of it is comforting enough. You feel more kisses press into you, this time just under your belly button, as the fingers inside you still.

The two of you stay like that for several minutes. Dr. Morales murmuring quietly to talk you down. Your leg still over his shoulder caressed by his free hand, while your own twirls at his brown locks.

“Fuck me,” you breathe out eventually, and Dr. Morales smiles against you. You can’t help but join him, chest warming at the final peck he places onto your knee before lowering your leg.

“Gonna pull out, okay? I’ll go slow,” he tells you. You nod, hand falling around his to touch at the warm skin. You huff out a short breath, mouth falling open as you stare at the wetness revealed when he begins to pull out.

Frankie whispers out his own damn, watching you until his fingers are free. Fuck, you’re pretty, aren’t you?

“I meant what I said earlier,” he declares, pushing away the thought. “Did great, muñeca. Incredible, actually.”

“I could say the same for you…” you mumble with a shy grin, and Frankie finds it touching. You’re divine. You’re precious. You’re… his patient.

The room is filled with heat and smells of sex. It clouds Frankie’s brain, but he knows he needs to keep moving. You can dwell, but not him. He’s got a job to do.

Frankie only lets himself stare for a few more minutes before he rises with a groan. His knees are aching, but he doesn't care. His face heats when you help him up the rest of the way, loose limbs and wet stains in all.

“Thank you,” he smiles, moving to hand you your robe with his untainted hand. “Let me go grab you some water and a towel, and then we can do your swab so you can get out of here.”

He’s turning to leave, heading for the bathroom across the hall to wash his hand–it’s still wet and shining, even now–but stops when he sees the look on your face.

“Is it required that I leave right away?”

Frankie is quick to answer. The small pout on your face makes it so.

“Of course not,” he shakes his head. “You’re free to take your time, take a breath. Sip on the water I’m gonna go grab you. Hell, you can even take a nap, if you want. I’ve uh… we’ve got rooms upstairs with beds and blankets. I think there are some snacks in there, too.

“Really?” You blink at him.

“Yeah. Gotta keep you all as comfortable as possible.”

Frankie sees that look again, the pout. He’s not sure you even know you’re doing it.

“I actually might take you up on that nap. I don’t think my legs have really come back yet,” you tell him, looking at him while slipping on the robe. When feels your eyes trail down, right to the bulge in his pants, he sucks in a rough inhale and does his best to screen the obvious.

“I’ll be right back with that water and towel,” Frankie rushes out, turning for the door.

His clean hand is sitting shaky on the handle when he hears you.

“Do you want me to…” you trail off, pausing for so long that he doesn’t expect you to keep going. “I could help you with that if you want.”

That. He knows you aren’t talking about getting water or towels, and it crumbles him. He grits his teeth, dick jumping at the thought of your–

No. No, he can’t. No matter how much he wants to, he can’t.

Frankie turns, digging deep for the strength to look you in the eyes.

“...we shouldn't, sweetheart. It’s against the rules, and we don’t want either of us getting in any kind of trouble, right?”

It takes a long time for you to nod. Way too long.

“Right,” you agree, but Frankie can smell the lie. He wonders if you can smell his, too.

© superhoeva

[multiharlot]

cayendo // matt murdock x age gap!reader

summary: your husband takes a business trip to la

warnings: it's always the "my wife" guys...looking at you NED FULMER........i'm so sorry for this, lmao

i like feeling pain so uhhhh song inspiration is cayendo by frank ocean.

main masterlist || series masterlist || add yourself to my taglist!

you sighed as you sat next to your husband's half packed bag on your bed.

"what?" he asks, stopping after he places a t shirt into the bag.

"i just...why the suit?" you frown, and he just smiles, sitting next to you.

"hey, it's just in case. i'm literally going to defend my suit tailor from a vigilante. i might need it." he shrugs, leaning forward and pressing a quick kiss to your pouting lips.

you just groan, throwing yourself backwards onto the bed and flopping your arms dramatically above your head. matt laughs softly, shaking his head at your antics. he places the last item of clothing into his bag and pushes the bag off of the bed before laying right on top of you.

"you know i love you, yeah? and that i'll always come home to you?" he asks, leaning up on his forearms and pushing a few stray pieces of hair away from your face.

"yeah but-"

"no but's. you know that, right?"

"yes." you sigh, and matt smiles, placing his hand softly on your cheek.

"i'll be okay. it's just a week, my love." he says, your heart fluttering at how softly and delicately he spoke to you.

you closed your eyes, leaning your face onto his hand and letting out a soft breath before opening your eyes and smiling up at your husband.

"i love you"

"i love you more" he smiles, leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss onto your lips.

liar. liar liar liar.

it's all that ran through your head as you looked down at your phone, seeing pictures of daredevil and she-hulk flood your timeline. edits of them together and a video of your husband leaving an apartment building early in the morning with his shoes in hand. clearly doing the walk of shame.

you'd seen enough.

you throw your phone to the opposite side of the couch and just sit there, staring at the blank wall in front of you. you weren't really sure what to do. scream. cry. call him and yell. leave and never speak to him again.

you genuinely didn't know what to do.

your phone violently began to vibrate and ring, and you just sat there, letting it ring. letting the texts and calls pile up. undoubtedly foggy and karen calling you after seeing the news all over their timelines. but let's be honest, even if you did pick up the phone, you'd have nothing to say. what could you say?

your husband just cheated on you.

what in the world could you possibly say?

your thoughts were interrupted by violent knocking at your door. you took a moment to breathe before making your way to the door and slowly bringing it open, and you're face to face with your best friend, leanne. she stands there, slightly out of breath and her eyes fixed onto you, seemingly waiting for you to say something.

"what do i do?" you breathe out, your eyebrows furrowed as you stand there in front of her, still in disbelief.

"you do whatever you need to do. and whatever it is, i support you. need to leave? i'll pack your things. do you need to stay? we'll get comfy and we can talk through it. wanna set his stuff on fire? i'll grab the matches. need to disappear and change your identity? i know a guy. you tell me whatever it is you need right now, and we'll do it." she says firmly, walking into your home and shutting the door behind her.

for a moment, you just stood there, still in the hallway. everything around you felt like him. hell, you were wearing his clothes. and even in his betrayal, you'd never felt safer than when you were surrounded in these pieces of him. knowing that made part of you angry, but it also made part of you break more than you thought it could. the place where you felt safest is a place you didn't belong. a place you weren't sure you ever belonged in the first place. deep down you always kind of knew. you knew that you weren't really his...type.

you almost wanted to laugh at yourself.

a type. what a small menial thing in comparison to falling in love. who cares about an archetype when you're in love.

but deep deep down, and every now and then, very sparsely, the thought came into your head. you'd considered the women he'd loved. the hard headed type, fighting the world in their mini skirts and heels. the bold type. they were so outspoken and strong. physically and mentally. when they spoke, everyone turned their heads to look and listen. they captured the attention of a room full of people simply just by walking in. you'd admired it. admired them. but you also knew, that just wasn't you. and even though you knew that, you'd always figured it was dumb. it wasn't an insecurity so much as it was just....a known fact. you were his type breaker. but that didn't really matter because at the end of the day, he married you. he built a life with you. why would something as dumb as a type matter when he chose you to spend forever with?

but now, suddenly, types mattered. and while he was always yours, it's clearly evident that you were never his. wether he married you or not, at the end of the day, you just weren't his type.

"what's going on in your pretty head, huh?" leanne asks softly, coming up behind you, wrapping her arms around you and laying her head on your shoulder.

you didn't bother to answer. not wanting to burden her with everything going on in your head.

he was supposed to come home tomorrow. you'd counted down the days. but now, you weren't sure you wanted to be there when he got home and yet you couldn't imagine being anywhere else.

*****

matt murdock didn't think it was possible for him to run this fast. as soon as the plane landed, he'd run out of the terminal gates about to flag down a taxi when he'd heard foggy shouting.

"HEY YOU GIGANTIC IDIOT GET IN THE CAR!"

for a moment, he'd considered walking instead. he'd rather suffer walking 20 miles back to his apartment than a 30 minute car ride with foggy, who was beyond pissed.

matt walked towards the car and foggy snatched his suitcase from his hand, quite literally throwing it into the backseat and slamming the door shut as he walked over to the drivers side.

"i'm not opening your door"

matt opened his mouth to speak, but he decided it was best not to. he slid his hand across the door before grabbing the handle and sliding into the passenger seat before sinking into himself. all he could think about was getting home to his wife. hoping and praying that she'd be there when he got back.

"why'd you do it" foggy asked, his voice cold and angry.

his tone was harsh and he was short with matt. rightfully so.

"i...i don't even know."

matt wasn't even sure why he did what he did. he'd just...slipped into his old ways, he guessed. he loved his wife. he loved you. you were everything he'd ever dreamed of in a woman. you two fit like a glove. complimented each other. your lifestyles complimented each other. so he didn't even know how it happened. he just knew that he was sorry, and he'd do anything to fix it.

foggy scoffed, shaking his head.

"you don't know? you don't know. great. that's just great, matt. so you did it for no reason then?"

"no. not for no reason i-"

"then what? huh? what fucking reason could you possibly have to cheat on your wife, matt? the woman who makes you elaborate lunches to take to work and- and- brings the entire office coffee in the mornings on the way to work? the woman who re-sews the buttons on your shirts with silk thread so they're more comfortable for you and who planned an elaborate beach honeymoon so that for once in your life you'd be able to experience silence? that's the woman you deiced to cheat on?"

matt didn't have an answer. he wish he did. any answer, even if it was an awful one. but he really didn't know why he did it.

"i just...got caught up in the moment. the adrenaline of it all-"

"the adrenaline of it all. okay. right. so do you just have sex with everyone you fight with out there? that a normal occurrence for you?" foggy sarcastically spit out.

matt almost physically winced at foggy's coldness. never in their many years of friendship had foggy been this angry at him. never had matt ever felt like foggy would give up on him. except for right now.

"fog i-"

"no. no you don't get to speak. you're gonna sit there, and you're gonna think about what you're gonna say to her."

and that's what he did. matt sat there, thinking about you. thinking about if you'd be there when he got home. how he'd fix this. he opened his mouth as he turned to foggy and dared to ask

"how is she?"

the question almost made foggy want to laugh. like...maniacally laugh.

"i dunno. her husband just cheated on her. i'd say not very good."

"is she...did she-"

"leave? no. but if you ask me, she should have."

deep down matt wanted to argue that face, but he didn't. he knew better.

"so she's still-"

"i said yes, matt. she's still at home."

matt sunk further into his seat, if that was even possible. and while he and foggy sat in silence, so did you. you were sat at the living room table, a cup of tea in your hand, your leg bouncing up and down in attempt to release your anxiety.

you looked down at your phone, and part of you didn't want to do it. you were sure you wanted to stay here. work through it. but the next thing you knew, you were running across the apartment, stuffing clothes into a bag with your phone tucked between your shoulder and your ear.

"y/n? are you okay?"

"no. i can't be here when he gets here. i need to go."

there was a moment of silence and then lianne's voice came through, harsh and determined.

"i'll be there in five."

taglist:

@multibishh @anothersworld @fuck-goes-on @Mrbillymontgomery @takeyour-pants-off @alexxavicry @eddiemvnsons @caseket @glowstick-lesbian @inas-thing @luvr-bunnyy @desert-fern @dvredevil-s-initivls @thychuvaluswife @drunkangels @nia_um @afootnoteinyourhappiness @slut4murdock

[bluedalahorse]

I think I’ll say this once, since I need to say it before I can move on to more excited posting about promos and things:

Obviously Young Royals means a lot to me. It’s become another way for me to connect with my hyphenated-American heritage and to start teaching myself Swedish again. It helped me survive a pretty brutal year of bullying at work. It made me confident enough to start the process of getting formally evaluated for autism and ADHD. I’ve been writing a 200k+ historical AU fanfic for YR—the kind of fic I always read and adored back in fandoms when I was younger, the kind of fic I wanted to write myself. I’m proud of the way that Heart and Homeland has made me a better writer, and I’m glad for the way it’s deepened my friendship with @heliza24. It is Young Royals in part that inspired by thesis on restorative justice in YA literature. When I was in the hospital last fall because I almost had a literal stroke from stress, I was comforted and kept calm by the fact that I was wearing a YR t-shirt and had a plush doll of a YR character sitting in my lap. And all of that is the short list.

As we come close to the release date, I hope that every single member of the fandom gets something they enjoy in the new season. I don’t think every person is going to get everything they want, but I genuinely hope there’s a moment, a scene, a line that brings them joy. We’ve all stuck with this series for a while, and I want us all to have something we can take with us. A little bit of sparkle for the road, if you will.

There’s of course the possibility that some of us get a lot of what we want, and others of us are let down. I know this was the case for season 2, and it feels naive to imagine that everyone in the fandom will be equally satisfied by season 3. I’ve got my fingers crossed that I’ll enjoy the hell out of it, but I’m also trying to prepare my heart in case it’s not what I wanted. I’m trying to gently talk to myself right now and say that even if the third season leaves me upset and unsatisfied—even if the writing takes a nosedive or it’s good writing but it’s just not what I wanted—that I still learned a lot about crafting stories and being myself and surviving hardship and thinking about systems and whatever else, from this show. That my experience with the first two seasons still matters, that my work on my fic is something to be proud of. If season 3 is a disappointment, Heart and Homeland will be my new canon. I’m sure there are other people out there talking themselves up in this way too. I know we’re all pushing through the pre-season jitters.

The other thing I’m trying to reconcile right now is how I feel about the promotional material that’s come out, and the conversations around that. Like on my own, I actually feel pretty great? It’s fun to see the new stuff come in? But then I think about the ratio of Wilmon to other things and some of the responses I’m seeing to that. And I see people say like “oh the show is back to focusing on what’s actually good about it” and “it’s great that they’re doing this because the audience doesn’t really care about characters who aren’t Wilmon.” And… hello? Aren’t I the audience? Tumblr isn’t too bad (most of the time) but then there’s like, Instagram, where the Netflix Nordic posted whole set of photos of different pairs and friendships from a whole bunch of shows, and there was one (1) picture of Sara and Rousseau and I saw enough comments where people were like “ew! Vomit! Give us Wilmon instead!” that like… y’all. Frida Argento is a human being and a damn good actress, and Lisa is a good writer of female characters, and like. We can celebrate that, once in a while. We can create space for her too. It’s not Frida OR Omar and Edvin. It’s Frida AND Omar AND Edvin AND Nikita AND Malte AND Nathalie AND Mimmi AND Fabian AND Samuel AND… look I could keep on listing but I’m going to get distracted if I do.

Like, man. I love Wilmon. Don’t get me wrong. I love the complexity their relationship can run with. There are lines heliza has written for them in fic that make me swoon and I am giddy about the part where I get to read them first. I love the glowsticks. I love Wilmon’s sense of humor and the part where they cheated at Vincent’s rowing race thing and their utmost commitment to being dumbass teenage boys against the world. The first week I saw the show and came into work (where we have an athletic field) I went and took a selfie on the field after covering my hands in those gross fake dots. Look. I am all in.

And also… I came to the show for Wilmon but I stayed for so much more. I would have watched Young Royals once or twice and said “that was pleasant” without ever getting back into fanfic after a decade away, if the show was only Wilmon. I do like Wilmon, but it wasn’t Wilmon who inspired my thesis on restorative justice or made me a better writer overall. I survived that year of bullying at work because I could come home and write my ensemble fanfic, especially the parts where I focused on the non-Wilmon pairing I was in charge of writing. I finally felt confident enough to be evaluated for AuDHD because of a connection I felt to a character who wasn’t Simon or Wilhelm. It was a plush doll of a non-Wilmon character who sat in my lap and kept me calm while I was hooked up to those scary machines in the hospital this past October.

I guess my one humble request is that people be thoughtful about how they use phrases like “everyone thinks” or “no one wants.” Not every member of the fandom has the same opinion, and not every member wants the same things out of season 3, and there are some of us who are happy about the new Wilmon content but who are still feeling a little hungry for more of our most beloved characters, and hope they’ll get meaningful storylines (and not get ignored) in season 3. I do know we probably won’t all get what we want, and that some of us will probably get more of what we want than others. I hope that whatever happens, we’ll all get something we want, and we can all be gracious about it, and continue to find meaning in the canon.

For the people here on tumblr who are already including me in their everyone… thank you, thank you, thank you. I hope you know who you are and I hope you know how much I appreciate you. And I do hope this Little Fandom That Could can keep going into all sorts of new creative places.

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Something There (Chapter 8)

6.7k words

Roy Kent x Reader

Warnings: Language, mentions of sex, angst, mentions of slut-shaming and double standards, horrible reporters being horrible, pining, finally some fluff!!!

A/N: This is probably my favorite chapter so far, and has some of my favorite scenes I've ever written!! My heart is HAPPY!!

Series Masterlist

I understood; I understood completely.

Ted Lasso was warm, and kind, and fun. He looked at a person like they mattered and listened with genuine interest. He made you feel like he’d have your back and believed in you.

Ted Lasso was exactly what I needed.

After chatting over drinks about our backgrounds and careers, delving into our shared deep love for sports and coaching, he finally broached the subject that had been plaguing me nonstop for what felt like an eternity.

“So. How’re you doing? With all this… hullabaloo?”

He was too kind and polite to even name the hell I was living in.

A grimace crossed my face as I lifted my beer to my lips, trying to delay answering the question for as long as possible while those patient eyes gazed at me. Finally, I had no choice but to fill the silence. “I am… okay,” I finally mumbled. “Trying to just focus on the team, you know?”

Ted nodded, watching me carefully. “I completely understand,” he hummed. “Well, I mean, not completely of course. It’s mighty unfair the way they talk about you. But…” He shrugged, giving a small pop with his mouth. “I mean, they weren’t exactly nice to me when I got here. The press, the team, hell, even Becca.” His face softened at those last couple of words. “But, eyes on the prize, as they say.” He patted my hand gently, a paternal touch I didn’t realize I needed. “Now, like I said, I don’t totally understand what you’re going through. But if you need someone who has some small idea, well, I’m here.”

“Thank you, Ted,” I murmured. “I really appreciate it.”

He shrugged, turning his attention to glance around the pub. “Anytime, Clementine.”

After a moment, I opened my mouth again. “I’ve just waited my whole life for this. To be a role model, more than a pretty face that runs fast. Sometimes that’s all I felt like back when I played. And being a coach, well everything depends on my brain, you know?” Ted’s understanding nod urged me on. “And I was finally doing it. I was winning, and because England actually gives some semblance of a crap about soccer, people started to know who I was. And then…” A big breath left my lungs. “And then this… thing happens, and it’s like nothing else matters. Olympic medals, World Cups, national titles, win streaks. Nope. Everyone thinks I’m just another Roy Kent girl.”

“You’re not just another Roy Kent girl,” Ted assured me. “It might feel like it, whatever that means, but you’re not. You’re Coach Buck, for Pete’s sake.” His smile warmed all the cold parts of my heart that had developed since Keeley first showed me the photos. “And it might feel like everyone thinks so, but I can tell you for a fact it’s not true.” He pulled out his phone and showed me the freckle-faced kid who took up his lock screen. “My boy has not stopped asking about you since I got here. Kid thinks you’re the absolute bee’s knees, Coach. He doesn’t care about these stupid headlines or what you do off the field. Heck, he even told me I should ask you for some coaching pointers.”

Beer nearly shot out of my nose as I let out a thankful laugh. “Ted Lasso, you have no idea how badly I needed to hear that.”

“Sure, I do.” He bumped his shoulder into mine. “Sometimes, ya just need a reminder about why we do what we do. To inspire other people to be their best selves.” He nodded towards his phone before pocketing it. “And you sure as heck inspire this kid. And I’m willing to bet he ain’t the only one.”

I stared at him for a moment. “You know… If you want, we could Facetime him while you’re here. If you think he’d like that, I mean.”

Lasso’s smile lit up the whole pub. “He’d love that, Coach.”

~

“Hey, Coach. Ready for that chat?”

A growl escaped Roy’s throat as Ted entered the empty office. “No,” he huffed, turning his attention back to the playbook on his desk.

Ignoring Roy’s scowl, not for the first time since they’d met, Ted plopped himself down on Beard’s desk, eyebrows raised. “I know what you need,” he announced, leaning over to grab the phone off Roy’s desk. “Better get some bones and treats, because I’m calling the Diamond Dogs.”

Before Roy could protest, Ted had called Higgins and texted Nate and Beard; almost instantly the office was filled with the sounds of howling and barking that Roy was sure anyone who was still in the building could hear. The men assembled, closing doors and perching themselves in chairs and against walls, eyes expectantly trained on Roy, as if they already knew the reason for this meeting.

When Roy glared at Ted, the American knew he’d have to get the ball rolling.

“Diamond Dogs,” he announced, “as y’all know, our favorite junkyard dog here has been goin’ through somethin’. I bet he could use some friendly ears to bark at.” He nodded to Roy. “Coach?”

There was no getting out of this. Roy knew that. So, he might as well get it over with.

“Yeah.” He turned his chair and plopped his feet on his desk, trying to keep up his uncaring demeanor. “You all fucking know. Fucking photos, fucking paparazzi and reporters, blah blah blah.” He nodded to Ted, whose face was stupidly supportive. “There. Done.”

Nate cleared his throat. “What about you and Coach Buck?”

It was probably the harshest scowl Roy had given in a long time. “What about me and Coach Buck?” His chest felt tight just saying her name out loud.

“Well…” Nate’s eyes were on the ceiling. “I mean, the two of you were getting kind of close, weren’t you? Before all this happened?” He seemed to shrink slightly under Roy’s glare. “Weren’t you?”

“We’re not close,” Roy spat. “So, dunno what there is to talk about.”

Beard sighed and narrowed his eyes at Roy. “How about we talk about how unhappy you’ve been ever since this all went down? How about we talk about the fact that you slept with her- don’t make that face at me, neither of you have denied it- and now you both look like the most miserable people in the world? Let’s talk about that.”

Before Roy could argue, Higgins cleared his throat. “Roy, have you tried, I don’t know, talking to the poor girl?”

Was there a way to renounce his membership from the fucking Diamond Dogs? “As a matter of fact, we have talked. And she wants nothing to do with me. So, again, what’s the point in any of this?”

Ted cleared his throat. “If I may, Coach, it sure didn’t look like she wanted nothing to do with ya when I saw y’all in the parking lot.” His face was soft. “She seemed pretty grateful for your help, actually. Did everything but call you her knight in shining armor when she told me about that paparazzo.”

Roy rolled his eyes, hating the blush on his face for betraying him. “Yeah, well, that’s about all I’m good for probably.” He stared at his shoes for a moment, scrunching his nose. “Just hate seeing her so fucking miserable,” he heard himself admit quietly. “It’s not really fair, this shit. All that ‘takes two to tango’ shit, but no one’s saying a word about me. It’s stupid as hell.” Dammit, he was ranting now. “And I just want to fucking fix everything but I can’t.”

“You could be her friend,” Ted said quietly. “It sounds like she could really use more of those right now.” He cleared his throat. “You know, I told her all about how Henry just really admires her- heck, I think there might be a little crush there too- and let me tell you, she looked so relieved to hear that. We actually FaceTimed him earlier today before he went to school, and man she was almost as jazzed as he was.” Ted shrugged.

Higgins nodded. “I think she just needs to feel supported and respected right now.” He cocked his head at Roy. “Just give her that, Roy. The rest will follow.”

“The fuck do you mean ‘the rest’-?”

The sound of a door opening had the men jumping. Through the window, Roy could see Buck stroll into her office, sipping her water bottle and looking at something on her phone. She froze, as if she could feel the eyes of the Diamond Dogs on her. She blinked several times when she looked up and saw the Greyhounds office filled with men staring. With her eyes on Roy, she gave a small, awkward wave before sitting at her desk and turning to her computer.

Ted smiled at Roy. “Diamond Dogs, dismissed.”

With soft barks and yaps, the men dispersed, ready to call it a day and go home. Roy sat at his desk, staring through that window, watching her type away. He thought about what they’d said; for some reason, he felt struck by Ted’s mention of Henry. Not quite sure what he was doing, Roy stood and approached the door that separated their offices. He opened it softly, raising his eyebrows when she turned around to look at him.

“Knock, knock,” he mumbled stupidly.

Her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, but Roy would take what he could get. “Hey, Coach.” She wrinkled her nose. “What the fuck was all that barking?”

“Barking? What barking?” Roy entered the office and perched on Lucas’s desk, feigning ignorance as he stared at the too-pretty manager.

“Fine, don’t tell me,” she chuckled with an eyeroll. “Need something? I’m just trying to finish a couple emails before I head out.”

Roy studied her face for a moment. His gaze briefly flickered to her Brandi Chastain poster before returning to those eyes that made his insides squirm. “Would you want to come meet Phoebe’s football team?”

She blinked a few times. “Phoebe’s team?” she echoed.

He nodded, feeling good about himself for once. “Yeah. She asked me a while ago about inviting you, hasn’t shut up about you since the charity game actually.” He shrugged. “I think it’d be… fun.”

The hesitation in her eyes was heartbreaking. “Oh, I don’t know, Roy…” She bit her lip. “What if the parents don’t like me being there?”

Fuck, her voice was tiny. “If they don’t like the idea of a fucking Olympic champion watching their daughter’s football practice, they can deal with me,” he huffed. “What d’you say? Want to make me the coolest uncle in the world?”

“Well, in that case.” A genuine little smile graced her face. “Alright. Fine. I’m there.”

~

Leaving the Dog Track to go meet Roy and the girls’ team, I felt that familiar mixture of excitement and anxiety, the kind I got before games, or before an important meeting. It was a good feeling; I hadn’t had it in a while. My phone vibrating interrupted my reflecting on why this practice had me so wound-up.

“Hello?”

“Hey there.” I could hear Geroge’s smile through the phone. “I know it’s last minute, but I wanted to see if you’d want to grab dinner tonight?”

I cleared my throat as I started my walk towards the address Roy had given me. “Oh, sorry, not tonight, George. I’ve got plans.”

The disappointment in his voice was kind of sweet. “No problem. Anything exciting?”

Why did I feel weird telling him?

“Kent invited me to come meet his niece’s team,” I explained slowly. “So I’m heading on over to the school to go see their practice, say hello to the girls. Should be fun.” I tried to keep my voice light and casual, as if this was a totally normal thing to do.

Goerge was silent for a moment. “Oh. That’s lovely of you.” He cleared his throat. “Don’t you think it’s a little risky though? Being out like that? Someone might see the two of you, take some pictures…”

I passed a Whippets advertisement, one that had yet to be graffitied. “I mean, it’s a kids’ soccer practice. I doubt the press’ll be there,” I pointed out with a huffy chuckle. “And honestly, I don’t really care if anyone sees. What can they say about me visiting a girls’ team that they didn’t already say about me going into Roy Kent’s house?”

Another silence came, the same one that usually followed references to the fact that I’d slept with Roy; I hadn’t directly told George that I had, he hadn’t directly asked, but it wasn’t difficult to figure out. It was clearly not something George liked thinking about, and it was something I did my best to avoid bringing up. But for some reason, it slipped out now.

“Well,” he finally murmured. “I think you’ll have a good time. Should be a fun little evening with the kids… and Kent.” He paused. “Call me later?”

“Sure,” I hummed, hating the sinking feeling that I’d done something wrong. “Talk to you later.” I shoved my phone into my pocket and continued my walk, trying to ignore whatever that phone call was and focus instead on the evening ahead of me.

When I finally arrived at the school field, I realized my heart was hammering. It was kind of ridiculous; I’d done school visits and things like that. I’d spoken in front of crowds of students and young athletes. But for some reason, visiting one little girls’ soccer team had me feeling the way I did before stepping onto the field for the World Cup: anxious, unable to breathe.

But a high-pitched squeal immediately brought a smile to my face.

“Coach Buck!”

With a small wave, I approached the group of girls that were passing and warming up; immediately, I was tackled by a familiar blonde.

“Hey, Pheobe,” I chuckled, hugging her back. “How’ve you been?”

She beamed up at me. “Good! I’m so glad you came. I’ve been asking and asking Uncle Roy to invite you. And-”

“And she’s fucking here, ain’t she?” Roy wrapped an arm around Phoebe and shoved her aside. “Go warm up, you.” As Phoebe scampered away, he nodded to me. “Coach.”

I couldn’t help but smirk at him. “Coach.”

He cleared his throat, suddenly the picture of nervousness. “Right. So, I was thinking, I’d introduce you to the team, you could say a few words if you want, and maybe you could help run training? Unless you’d rather just watch. Either way’s fine with me.”

“I’d love to help.”

His face turned relieved. “Great.” He turned towards the group of girls, who were more interested in us than in their warmup. “Oi! Huddle up!” As soon as the girls were gathered around, Roy nodded curtly at me. “This here’s Coach Buck. She manages the Richmond Whippets. And, in case Phoebe here hasn’t already told you, she’s a World Cup champion and has an Olympic gold medal.” The excited buzzing from the girls had me fighting a smile- and it looked like Roy was fighting one too. “She wanted to come say hello to you all and help with practice. Sound good?”

“Yes, Coach!”

Roy raised an eyebrow at me. “Coach?”

With a deep breath, I took a step forward, willing myself to gaze at the little faces staring back with solemn expressions of excitement and awe. “Hello, ladies,” I greeted, putting on my best smile. “Roy- Coach Kent- has told me that you are probably the best team he coaches.” Their little giggles began to put me at ease. “And I am so excited to get to hang out with you today and see what you’ve got!”

The next hour was the best one I’d had since I moved to England- probably one of the best hours of my entire life. The girls were more than talented- they were enthusiastic, fierce, passionate, determined, fearless, everything I remembered being at their age. They played as if there was no such thing as losing or getting hurt. Every mistake was an opportunity to get better, every success was meant to be exceeded. By the end of practice, I knew every girl’s name and felt a tug in my heart when they called me “Coach”.

“Uncle Roy,” Phoebe hummed as he gathered the team at the end of practice. “Can we try to get past you?”

Roy glanced in my direction before shrugging. “You girls really want to play?”

The resounding YES had me wondering what ‘getting past’ Roy meant. As if she could sense my curiosity, Phoebe tugged my hand.

“You’re going to love this, Coach Buck,” she gushed. “It’s our favorite!”

The girls lined up, bouncing with excitement, while Roy grabbed a ball and jogged towards one of the goals made of a couple of cones. With the ease of someone who’d done this dozens of times, he rolled the ball to Kokoruda, who was first in line. She immediately began dribbling towards Roy and made a respectable attempt to score on the experienced player.

“Next!” he barked after kicking the ball out of bounds.

One by one, the girls tried to score on Roy; and each one failed.

“You don’t go easy on them?” I probed as I trotted over to Roy to return another ball to him.

He caught the ball with ease. “Fuck no,” he chuckled. “Their opponents won’t ever go easy on ‘em, will they? Why should I?”

Before I could concede that he had a point, Phoebe called out, “Coach Bucky! You should try!”

With a smirk, Roy tossed the ball back to me. “Yeah, Coach Bucky. You should try.”

Maybe it was being around the girls, maybe it was the cockiness on Roy Kent’s face. Maybe it was something else. “Fine, I’ll try,” I shot back, taking my place at the front of the line. I looked at the girls. “Any of you ever get it past him?” When they all shook their heads, my grin grew. “Well, guess he’s due for a loss then.”

I stood with my foot on top of the ball for a moment, just staring down Roy Kent. He narrowed his eyes playfully, a smile almost breaking through his serious glare. With a deep breath, I began dribbling, wondering when I had last just played like this. Roy jogged out to meet me, expertly trying to get the ball out of my control. We moved this way, that way; I was a bit surprised how well I was doing against him, if I was being honest.

“Not going easy on me, are you Kent?” I huffed, very aware of the way his body pressed against mine as he tried to steal the ball from behind me.

“Not a fucking chance,” he assured me, his breath tickling my neck.

With what I hoped was a casual chuckle, I found my opening, evading Roy and making my way towards the goal, a smaller target than I was used to. As I inched forward, I felt a pair of hands brush my sides, warm and playful.

Phoebe’s giggling voice interrupted the reeling in my head. “Uncle Roy, that’s a foul!”

“Right!” came a gruff voice behind me, laughing as the hands disappeared.

Able to return my focus to the ball at my feet, I sprinted forward, ankle be damned, and broke away from Roy; the ball sailed between the cones with ease, giving me that old, thrilling feeling of scoring a goal. When I turned around, the girls were cheering- and Roy was smiling at me.

“My knee’s fucked,” he huffed jokingly between breaths, hands on his hips as he approached. “That was hardly fair.”

I quirked an eyebrow at him as we started to walk back towards the team. “Oh, and what would you call my ankle?”

His smile widened. “Also fucked.”

Before I could snark back, the girls tackled me with hugs and shouts, clearly impressed that anyone could get past their burly coach. Roy eyed me over their heads, his face soft, reminding me of the night of the gala. All I could do was grin back at him, wondering if he felt the same warmth in his chest that I felt.

Roy dismissed his team, reminding them about their upcoming game, one they begged me to come watch. To my shock, a few parents stopped me to shake my hand and ask if they could get a picture of me with their daughter; that warm feeling in my chest grew with each “My daughter adores you!” or “It’s so cool that you came!” The whole time, Roy and Phoebe collected the equipment, with Phoebe watching me with great interest.

As the last of the girls left, I meandered over to the coach and his niece, stopping when I found myself looking into those brown eyes.

“Thanks, Kent,” I said, wondering if he could hear the thick emotion in my voice. “This… this was exactly what I needed.”

His eyes sparkled. “What, a bunch of little girls worshipping you?”

A snort escaped when I tried to hold back my laughter. “They didn’t worship-”

“Fuck off,” he chuckled, giving me a soft punch in the arm. “They fucking adored you. You’re their queen or some shit. Seriously-” He bobbled his head playfully. “-they’re probably planning a coup to get rid of me so you can be their coach.” He pointed to Pheobe, who was hovering nearby, obviously anxious to interrupt our conversation. “And that little traitor will be leading the fucking cavalry.” He waved her over. “Come say goodnight, Phoebe.”

Phoebe wrapped her arms around me, giving a squeeze. “Thank you for coming,” she gushed before letting go. “You know I have your poster in my room?” Her smile was full of pride. “I told Uncle Roy I wanted one, so he got one for me. It’s right above my dresser, so I can see it when I get ready for football.”

My jaw dropped slightly as my gaze shifted between Phoebe and Roy, who shrugged at me. Before I could think of something to say, he opened his mouth.

“I’ll make you a deal, Pheebs,” he started, eyes fixated on me. “You score in our next match, I’ll take you to see the Whippets, and we can ask very nicely if Coach Buck here will sign your poster.”

A lump formed in my throat when I saw the delight on Phoebe’s face. “Yeah,” I managed to choke out as I blinked back tears. “I could do that.”

~

There was a dull ache in Roy’s knee when he arrived at the Dog Track early the next morning, but it was a hell of a lot better than the sharp pain in his chest that seemed to be slowly disappearing. He figured he’d pop into the treatment room, grab some ice and baby his knee before getting ready for training.

When he walked through the door, he realized he wasn’t the only one that needed some tending to.

There she was, leg propped up on a chair, ice on her ankle as she scrolled on her phone. Her head snapped up at the sound of the door opening, and her face broke into one of those perfect smiles when she saw it was Roy. Without a word, they both started chuckling, almost relieved to see that the other had also overdone it the night before.

“Guess you meant it when you said you weren’t going easy on me,” she mused, watching Roy grab himself an ice pack.

He chuckled and rolled up his trackpants to expose his knee, flinching slightly as the cold touched his bare skin. “You’d fucking kill me if I did,” he pointed out. “It’d be fucking insulting.” After a moment of silence, staring at each other’s injuries, Roy opened his mouth again. “I’ll be at your game tonight,” he murmured, hoping he sounded casual.

Instead of the surprised look he expected, he swore he saw pleasure on her face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He let his eyes linger on her face. “I know the guys’ve been trying to go to as many matches as possible to show their support. Told Sam and Jamie I’d be joining them tonight. Richmond til we die, right?”

“Richmond til we die,” she repeated, her soft smile nearly stopping Roy’s heart.

Their quiet moment was interrupted by the door opening again. Rebecca stood with her hand on the doorknob, eyebrows raised at the sight of her two managers grinning at each other and icing their injuries.

“Good morning, coaches,” she greeted in a light voice, eyebrows raising slightly higher when she locked eyes with Roy before turning to the Whippets manager. “Just wanted to check in, I know you’ve got a long day. Match is at six, I believe some of the Greyhounds will be there again-”

Roy couldn’t resist piping up. “We will be.”

Rebecca didn’t bother hiding her smile as she went on. “After the match, Keeley will take Lucas to the press room, and you and I can-”

This time, the other manager interrupted her. “No.”

“No?” Rebecca blinked.

“Fuck it,” she sighed, sitting up and tossing her ice pack aside. “This is my team, right? I’m doing the press conference. Luke has covered for me long enough.”

Rebecca tilted her head sympathetically. “Are you sure?”

For a moment, those eyes turned to Roy, silently asking for his thoughts, as though his opinion mattered to her. When he gave her the tiniest, almost unnoticeable nod, she looked back at Rebecca, head held high. “Hell yeah.”

Roy had chosen the right match to come to, he realized. A 4-0 win to move into first place had him grinning with the Greyhounds as they cheered on the Whippets before they disappeared back into the tunnel. For a moment, he locked eyes with Buck, who tapped her fingers to her temple, giving Roy’s signature little salute. He saluted back, ignoring the grin on Jamie’s face. Maybe, just maybe, the two managers could grab a drink together to celebrate her win. Roy’s treat, of course. She’d more than earned it.

But first, she had a press conference to give. The Whippets and Greyhounds, intent on celebrating together, assembled in the weight room and gathered around the televisions on the wall. Roy stood right in front, Jamie by his side, eyes glued to the screen as she took her seat, red lips curled into a perfect smile.

Initially, the questions were typical post-match queries: how did she feel about the performance, what did she have to say about this error, how thrilling was that goal. And she handled them all with ease, reminding Roy of that first press conference he’d watched, where he couldn’t keep his eyes off of her. But now, instead of a scowl, he almost wore a smile watching her, and he finally understood why his heart was hammering so hard. Yeah, this was good. She was good.

Until the questions weren’t good.

“Roy Kent was in the stands today,” one reporter called out. “Any thoughts on that?”

Her smile faltered as her eyes shifted away from the crowd in front of her. “Oh. Yes, the Greyhounds have been great in showing their support for the Whippets.” Her smile returned, though not as confident as before. “We’re overdue to cheer them on, so keep an eye out for us at their next match!”

Another question came at her. “What is your relationship with Roy now?”

She cleared her throat. “All the coaches here at Richmond have a great respect and fondness for one another. We’re lucky to have two great staffs that work together so well. It’s how we get wins like the one we had today, on both the men’s and women’s sides.”

Roy felt his face burn, along with several pairs of eyes staring at him. He didn’t care that she avoided the question; it was the same non-answer Keeley had given him to spout out whenever he got asked the same thing. It was the way the question came out, accusatory and aggressive, that had him frowning.

“Does your dominant personality play a role in your relationship with Roy Kent?”

There was no denying the way she scrunched her nose, fully understanding the implication. “Again, all of us coaches hold each other in high regard and have great professional relationships. Now, if you want to talk dominance, out there on the field today, Kira-”

“Speaking of Kira Malone,” a gruff voice interrupted. “She was recently seen at a pub with Jamie Tartt. Do you think your affair with Roy Kent has made the Whippets think it’s okay to run around with the Greyhounds? Is that professional?”

She began sputtering for the first time. “I would hardly call it an affair- But honestly, they’re adults, they’re professionals, I honestly-”

“And you were spotted with Ted Lasso recently,” another voice called out. “Can we assume you’ve moved on from Roy Kent?”

Her eyes widened, but she tried to recover her cool. “Coach Lasso’s a great coach. I-”

A harsh laugh rang out of the speakers. “Yeah, what does Kent think of your relationship with his ex-manager?”

Roy took a step towards the door; he knew that running into that press room would make things worse, would be a headline every paper would be running in the morning, but he didn’t give a fuck. His whole body was burning with fury as he listened to them challenge and fucking laugh at her.

A hand clasped his shoulder; Jamie was shaking his head, eyes full of sympathy, as if he too wanted to rush in and rescue her. But they both knew that she needed to do this on her own.

“Oi, is Roy why you always wear that red lipstick? Should we expect to see it on his collar sometime?”

She looked small, so impossibly small, not at all like the woman Roy had been fighting with and falling for all these months. Her defiance disappeared under their demeaning questions, her fierceness was stolen by their laughter, her cockiness was stifled by their mockery.

“What kind of example do you think you’re setting for the girls of Richmond? Sleeping with Roy Kent and all?”

That seemed to be the question that knocked the fight out of her.

“Oh, fuck this,” Roy growled, tugging out his phone. He quickly typed six little words, the first text message he’d ever sent her.

Don’t you fucking dare play nice.

Her eyes flickered to her phone, eyebrows raising; Roy knew she’d gotten his message. She closed her eyes for a moment, letting them continue to shout and shame her. Finally, she sat up tall, jaw set, and stared down the crowd in front of her.

“You know what?” she asked, her voice low and gravely. “Fuck these questions you keep asking me.” Roy was sure he heard Keeley squeak on the television. “You’re not asking Roy Kent these questions. You’re not asking if he’s a good role model. You’re not questioning his ability to manage his team.” She shook her head. “What message am I sending to young girls? Really? How about what message are you sending?”

Roy was sure it was Kira Malone’s voice behind him calling out, “Fuck yeah, Buck!”

She sat up taller now. “I am a fucking Olympian. I am a champion coach. I have won more titles and trophies and medals than this entire building combined.”

“Tell ‘em, Coach!” Jamie laughed, nodding up at her face onscreen.

Roy’s mind wandered, of all places, to his niece. To the way she adored that loud, abrasive woman, a woman who was standing up for girls like Phoebe. A lump formed in his throat as he listened; fuck, he might actually fucking cry. And he didn’t care if the Greyhounds saw the tears in his eyes. He didn’t even care about the way Jamie was staring at him; he was too enraptured by the scene unfolding on the television.

“I chose to sleep with a nice man one time, and suddenly all my accomplishments don’t matter? Who cares about Olympic gold when you’ve gone to bed with Roy Kent? What defines me is who I go home with? What message is that for the daughters of Richmond? You’re telling your girls that their accomplishments and dreams are nothing compared with what they do in the bedroom. No.” Her eyes were hard and steely as she shook her head. “Fuck this. I’m done. If I wanted to go and sleep with Roy Kent tonight, that’s my own damn business. If I wanted to sleep with any other man, or woman, or whoever, that’s my business.”

Shouts of agreement echoed through the weight room, from both Whippets and Greyhounds. A smile crept across Roy’s lips; fuck, she was incredible. If he wasn’t in love before, he definitely was now.

“What example am I setting for the girls of Richmond?” she asked with a dry laugh. “Not letting jackasses like you question our worth because of a man. That’s the example I’m setting. So if you’re here to ask about my sex life, you can fuck right off. It’s not up for debate, not anymore. It’s not what we’re talking about, now or ever. What I’m here to talk about is the fact that the Whippets are in first place and are expected to finish in the top three in our first damn season. How about you ask me about that?”

~

My heartbeat throbbed in my ears as I stood up, only vaguely registering the female reporters and handful of men who also stood, clapping and calling out words of support. I grabbed my phone and rushed out of the press room, not bothering to look at Keeley and Rebecca; I’d apologize to them later. I’d do whatever Keeley needed me to do to spin this. I’d offer to do whatever public appearances Rebecca demanded.

But first, I needed to get to my office to hyperventilate in peace.

As my feet did their job, carrying me down the halls, I became aware of the sound of… clapping? Cheering?

When I turned the last corner that would take me to the changing room, I finally stopped in my tracks.

Lining the hall were both Richmond teams, a beautiful jumble of smiles and applause and cheers, all watching me with affection. Suddenly, I found myself smothered with hugs and kisses and handshakes. Kira held me close, whispering in my ear about how proud she was to play for me; Jamie Tartt kissed my forehead and called me a bad-ass; over and over, Greyhounds and Whippets embraced me and offered their love and support.

By the time I reached the locker room, tears were freely streaming down my face, releasing all the emotion I’d been holding back in the press room; hell, all the emotion I’d been holding back since Keeley first showed me the photos of me and Roy.

The Greyhounds coaches stood in front of the locker room, pride shining on their faces. Beard and Nate each held me tight, murmuring about how amazed they were. Finally, Roy stood in front of me, his eyes watery as he gazed down at me.

“Welcome back, Coach,” he hummed, sticking out his hand.

I grasped his hand, shaking it firmly, unable to hold back my tearful smile. “Good to be back, Coach,” I murmured. I gave his hand a squeeze before letting go. “And thank you,” I whispered.

He shook his head softly. “Anytime.”

A pair of arms wrapped around me; Lucas was hugging me, tighter than anyone else had. “I’m so proud of you,” he choked out, crying almost as hard as I was. “So fucking proud, kid.”

With one last look at Roy, I let Lucas steer me into our office, listening to him chatter about how much he loved my little speech. I collapsed in my chair and laughed, from disbelief that I had just done that. My phone went off; George.

“Hey!” I exclaimed, wiping my face. “Did ya see me?”

“What the hell, Buck?” he hissed. “You just made things so much harder on yourself. They’re not going to forgive you for this. They’re not going to like you after this. Trust me, I know these people.”

When Lucas saw the way my face fell, he gave my shoulder a squeeze and left, figuring I needed some privacy.

I hunched over my desk and clutched my phone to my face. “To be honest, George, I don’t think I care if they like me. They don’t respect me, so why do I care if they think I’m nice?” I shook my head. “I’m proud of myself, actually. And so is my team. And so are the Greyhounds.” And so is Roy Kent, a little voice in the back of my head whispered.

He paused. “It was good,” he sighed. “You sounded great. Honestly, it was a great ‘girl power’ moment.” There was another moment of quiet on his end before his voice turned thoughtful. “You know, I bet we could do a great article about this. Give your side of things, talk all about the slut-shaming and double standards-”

“Didn’t you listen to what I said?” I scoffed, sensing someone approaching my office. “I’m fucking done talking about this. I’m not answering questions about this, ever again. Everyone knows I had sex with Roy Kent, that’s more than they need to know. I don’t owe anyone anything else.”

“Right.” He cleared his throat. “Why don’t we grab a late dinner? Could, I dunno, celebrate your win or something.”

For the first time since we met, I had no interest in seeing George Willows. “Not tonight,” I muttered. “I just… want to go home. Sleep. Avoid Twitter.” I finally turned, realizing it was, of all people, Roy hovering in my doorway. “Listen, I gotta go. I’ll call you tomorrow.” Not waiting for a reply, I hung up, tossing my phone on my desk before turning my chair around, raising my eyebrows teasingly at Roy. “Need something? Or are you going to send me another inspiring text message?”

He stared at me, mouth open like he was about to speak. Finally, he just shook his head and let out a breathy chuckle. “Fuck,” he breathed, stepping further into my office. “You… you were fucking something today, you know that?”

I shook my head and stood up, meeting him in the middle of the room. “Kent-”

“No.” He smirked at me. “Take the fucking compliment.” He shrugged. “I just wanted to tell you I was… really impressed today.” He cleared his throat. “On the field. In the press room. You’re a fucking great manager.” He let out a deep breath, eyes shifting around the office. “Don’t think I’ve told you that, and I’m sorry I haven’t.” He met my gaze, his smirk becoming a smile. “And I am very glad Phoebe has someone like you to look up to. So… that’s it, I guess.”

Roy Kent was looking at me with admiration. Roy Kent, who’d hated me and screamed at me. Roy Kent, who’d slept with me. Roy Kent, who asked me to speak to a girls’ soccer team. Roy Kent.

Roy Kent, who I wrapped my arms around and pulled into a hug. Not giving a shit about anything outside my tiny office, I pressed my body close to his, squeezing him tight. I buried my face in his shoulder, letting my tear-stained face dampen his Greyhounds shirt. His words, the look on his face, they were exactly what I needed.

His hands hovered over my hips, not returning the embrace, and I could hear him clear his throat, the vibration rumbling against my chest. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Immediately regretting my impulsive action, I pulled back, positive my face was bright red. “Shit,” I mumbled, my mind reeling from the roller coaster of emotions I was having tonight. “Sorry, I-”

Suddenly, I was pulled back to Roy’s chest, his arms wrapped tightly around my waist. I swore he sighed when my arms returned to his neck, and when my head hit his chest, I could hear his heart pounding, just as hard as I knew mine was. We stood there, hugging, wrapped up in whatever little world we were in, away from the press and the rumors and the judgement.

Just me and Roy.

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[seokmthw]

daisy | sung hanbin

this is part of the zb1 flowers series!

⇢ meaning: daisies represent new beginnings and innocence

⇢ pairing: hanbin x reader

⇢ warnings: exes to lovers, angst, fluff

⇢ synopsis: after not having time for each other in your college years, you and your boyfriend break up. by some twist of fate, you meet again a few years later.

⇢ word count: 2.4k

⇢ note: hanbin is genuinely so perfect and so easy for me to write for. i hope you all enjoy this little addition to the flower series, up next should be matthew! i am loving writing this so far :) this was kind of inspired by for the first time by the script so if you wanna listen to that while you read you can!

“i just don’t think this is working out, hanbin.”

those were the words he never wanted to hear from you, although he knew deep down that there was a strong sense of truth behind them. you both were going to college and invested in your own extracurricular activities, you had to go to classes and do homework and projects, and you also had to work in order to survive throughout your schooling. 

the harsh reality was, there was never really any time for just the two of you.

you were pacing the room back and forth, your eyes flitting to anything and everything that wasn’t hanbin, because you knew the moment your gaze met his, you would start crying. you didn’t want to have to do this, you wanted so badly for it to work out, but all of your attempts had proven this entire situation to be a lot more difficult than it originally seemed. 

you huffed out of frustration, finally deciding to sit down on the edge of the loveseat in hanbin’s living room. you found interest in the way a corner of the throw rug curled up, desperate to find the words to tell him that you didn’t want this to come to an end, but they never came. instead, your wants died in your throat and were replaced with the words you never dared speak until now, “i think we should break up.”

silence clung heavily to the air surrounding the two of you. hanbin knew it was coming, as did you, but it didn’t prepare you for the utter heartbreak either of you felt. you blinked, and a stray tear dripped down onto your cheek, much against your will, and alerted the boy next to you. 

in all honesty, he was trying to keep himself together too, but the moment he saw you crying he was able to easily forget about himself. within mere seconds he was on the floor in front of you, one of his warm palms made its home on top of your thigh, “hey, don’t cry, it’s okay.”

“that’s the thing, bin,” you sadly laughed, glossy eyes finally meeting with his, “it’s not.” 

he sighed, soon taking a seat next to you on the cushion of the loveseat, pulling you into his chest. almost immediately, you were a sobbing mess, and hanbin would be a liar if he said he wasn’t crying too, but it was mainly because he hated seeing you hurt so much. the two of you sat like that for a while, relishing in the last moments you would have as a couple, because you knew you would never get this back. 

it just wasn’t in the cards for you. 

the room had gone silent once again aside from an occasional sniffle erupting from the both of you. managing to get the strength to make eye contact with him, you couldn’t help but feel tears well up once again the moment his expression softened and the look of adoration in his eyes was reflecting back to you. 

parting your lips, your voice was barely above a whisper as you said, “i’m so sorry.”

“please don’t be,” hanbin was quick to respond, “you don’t ever have to be sorry for something like this. i know this is for the best. right person, wrong timing, right? maybe someday in the future, you and i can start over and see where it takes us, yeah? for now, we can just focus on college and trying to get through the next couple of years.”

you nodded, albeit reluctantly, and leaned up to press a sweet kiss to his lips, “i will always love you, hanbin.”

“and i will always love you, y/n, no matter what.”

after breaking up with hanbin, it was rare you were ever able to actually talk or see each other. college got far too busy and overwhelming for the both of you, and the little time you’d had to see each other before was completely diminished the more time went on. 

your heartache was finally beginning to subside, and you even attempted dating a couple of times since hanbin, but none of them worked. you’d managed to end up with people who you just didn’t have chemistry with or who were complete assholes, there was really no in between when it came to that. 

with college graduation coming up, you knew you would see hanbin. he would be walking across the same stage as you, having his name called, and his face plastered on the big screens around the arena the ceremony was being held in. 

he looked good, there was no doubt about that. he always did. you couldn’t help the way you gawked at him, or how well his graduation gown fit him, or how his hair was perfectly parted to the side how you remembered liking it to be. part of you wondered if maybe he did it on purpose, knowing you would be there to see, but you knew he wouldn’t be petty like that because you ended on such good terms. 

you didn’t expect to get so teary eyed seeing him for the first time in a little over a year, but you were dabbing away tears moments before you walked to receive your diploma, managing to play it off as being proud of yourself and your accomplishments.

you knew it was better off this way, but god, did it hurt.

as you were walking back to your seat, you made eye contact with him, offering a small, shy smile to him as you did you so. he returned it, his eyes forming into the pretty crescent shapes you loved so much, and he gave you a nod of acknowledgement, hands coming up in front of him to give you a clap. 

but little did you know, the moment you were out of his sight, he burst into tears.

“shit, shit, shit,” you hissed under your breath, one hand gripping your iced coffee and the other rummaging through your bag for your keys, but they were nowhere to be found.

this was the icing on your cake today; you’d missed your bus this morning, somehow managed to break the printer at work - which would be coming out of your paycheck, by the way - and had now lost the only way to get into your apartment after a long and stressful day.

you groaned in frustration, looking through your belongings once more before finally admitting defeat and deciding to walk back downstairs to the front desk in hopes of them having a spare so you could crawl into your bed and sleep for the rest of the night.

you messed around inside your bag as you walked, not paying any attention to the path in front of you, and inevitably ramming into someone, your coffee exploding in your hand and soaking your clothes and most likely your neighbors’.

“oh my god, i’m so sorry,” you exclaimed, eyes scanning the damage that had been done, feeling a pang of guilt wash over you at the sight of a giant wet patch on the stranger’s crisp, white t-shirt.

there was a chuckle from the other person, “that’s okay, y/n.”

your head snapped up at the use of your name, eyes nearly falling out of your head from how wide they had gotten at the sight in front of you. sung hanbin, your ex-boyfriend, and now the person you spilled a cold coffee all over. to say you were surprised to see him was an understatement - you had thought he was abroad somewhere to broaden his teaching practices.

“h-hanbin?” you managed to stutter out, looking around the hallway to see if anyone else was around and whether or not you were imagining this, “do you - do you live here?”

“i do, i suppose we’ve just never run into each other,” he flashed the same smile that still somehow made butterflies go crazy in your tummy.

you blinked slowly, somehow still unable to believe that this was happening to you, “how long has it been since we last talked? a couple of years maybe?”

he nodded, “i think so,” he quirked an eyebrow up in question, “if you don’t mind me asking, what were you in such a hurry for?”

you laughed, defeatedly looking back down at the mess you’d created in your haste to get downstairs, sheepishly replying, “i kind of lost my keys and was going to see if there was a spare available.”

hanbin chuckled, and you knew by the way he did so he was about to say something you didn’t want to hear, “i hate to be the bearer of bad news, but the front desk is closed for the weekend.”

“of course it is,” you remarked, “this is just how my day is going.”

hanbin appeared to be contemplating something, almost as if having a battle within his own brain, before finally stating, “if you need somewhere to stay, you can stay in my apartment for the weekend. you can have my bed and i can sleep out on the couch.”

if there was something you would never, ever forget about sung hanbin, it was his kindness. no matter what the situation was, he was always putting others before himself and offering a helping hand whenever anyone needed, and you were sickeningly reminded of how he’d always treated you so well when you were together despite not getting to spend much time together.

you were baffled, to say the least.

“i don’t wanna be a burden or anything, so i-” you began but he cut you off almost immediately.

“i knew you would say that, and i promise you that i wouldn’t have offered if i didn’t mean it.”

your gaze met with his, and the sincerity behind his eyes was hard to miss. you tried to suppress any past feelings for him that threatened to rise up as you nodded, merely following him to his front door and into his apartment, which was so wholeheartedly hanbin.

it smelled of his cologne and was neat, not a single thing out of place, just like it had been in his college apartment. you shyly walked in behind him to the living room, taking a seat on his plush couch the moment he motioned for you to do so.

“is there anything i can get for you? i want you to be as comfortable as possible while being here,” hanbin asked, taking a seat next to you, his eyes glittering in the dim lighting, taking shape of those pretty little crescents you remembered so vividly.

“i think i’m okay for now,” you answered honestly, “i just appreciate you letting me stay here, you honestly saved me a lot of trouble.”

a little while later, after a small debate between the two of you broke out about borrowing one of hanbin’s shirts since yours was soaked with coffee, a comfortable silence had fallen between the two of you; he was cooking up a meal in the kitchen and you’d found interest in a book he had sitting on his table.

you couldn’t help but steal a glance at him every once in a while, having memories of moments exactly like this from your college years flooding your brain. you shook your head, training your eyes back onto the words of the page you’d reread over and over because you just couldn’t focus.

“am i right in thinking you don't like onions?” he asked, eyes now gently trained on you as you registered his question in your mind.

how he remembered such a miniscule detail about you blew your mind, though you tried not to let that show, “yeah, they’re disgusting.”

hanbin chuckled at your response before he finished up making your dinner plates and sat down next to you on the couch, handing you the meal he had made for the two of you to eat. you thanked him quietly, digging into your meal with a content sigh. you couldn't help but take note of the way hanbin’s gaze stared into you.

you finally had the courage to meet your eyes with his, a shy smile forming on your lips as you chewed on your rice, “is everything okay?”

“can i say something, y/n?”

you nodded, nervous for what he might say to you. maybe he was just gonna tell you to find somewhere else to stay for the weekend, but you knew hanbin, and your thoughts couldn't have been further from the truth.

“i never got over you from college, you know,” his words were carefully articulated, making sure to get his point across, “and seeing you a few years later, i think i’ve fully come to the conclusion that i never will.”

you swore you were going to choke on the bite of your food you had just taken. you blinked a few times, finally managing to spew out a response to him, “really?”

he laughed lightly, “of course. when i said i would always love you, i meant it,” he paused to gauge your reaction, “you’re just as lovely as you were back then.”

“i think i could say the same about you,” you answered honestly, having now set your utensils down on your plate, fully engaged in the conversation, “i’ve been thinking it since i ran into you in the hallway.”

hanbin had mirrored your actions, though he had set his entire plate on the coffee table. he scooted closer to you, hand finding it's home on your cheek, and you instantly melted into his touch. his gentle demeanor was something you missed so dearly, and feeling some form of physical contact with him after so long was something you didn't think you needed.

he leaned forward, a small smile adorning his lips before he met them with yours, causing your stomach to do backflips. you inched slightly closer to him, resting your hands on his chest, and allowing him to fully kiss you the way he intended.

he pulled away, pressing his forehead against your own, and asked, “would you like to try us again? see where it goes? maybe do all of the things we never got to do together in college?”

“i would love that.”

“good,” he responded, kissing you once more, “because you’re stuck with me regardless."

[logyisthemaincharacter]

The one where Jack & Urban turn 30

Series link

A/n: Sorry I took so long with this one. Life's just going crazy at the moment! There's a little smut in this one btw👀

Tonight is Jack and Urban's birthday party. Their 30th birthday party. It's quite a big deal. I can't believe I have such an old boyfriend.

I met Urban on Jack's birthday. We had dinner at his parents' house and obviously his best friend was going to be there. Jack was so worried that Urban would feel like he was third-wheeling us, but instead, Jack was the one third-wheeling Urban and I. Urban and I hit it off so well that he invited me to his birthday dinner a few days later.

I instantly became close with Urban's fiancé, Alexis. She has this warm and friendly way of making people feel comfortable around her. She just has a natural ability to connect with others.

In conversations, Alexis comes across as engaging and attentive. She has a knack for making people feel seen and heard, and she genuinely cares about others' experiences. Alexis's positive outlook on life is contagious, and she often brings a sense of joy and enthusiasm to the people she interacts with.

One aspect of Alexis's personality that stands out is her authenticity. She embraces who she is and encourages others to do the same. Alexis is unapologetically herself, and she inspires others to embrace their uniqueness and celebrate their individuality.

As I hop in the car and make my way to the party, a mix of excitement and nervousness fills the air. The thought of meeting the rest of Jack's friends makes me wonder if I'll fit in with their dynamic.

As the engine hums, I can't help but think about the age gap between us. I'm still navigating my early twenties, while Jack has already hit the big 3-0. The question lingers in my mind: Will I be able to connect with his friends on the same level?

Driving down the road, I take a deep breath and remind myself that age is just a number. What truly matters is the bond I share with Jack and the genuine connections we've built. Jack loves me for who I am, and his friends are an extension of that love.

With each passing mile, I try to shake off my worries and focus on the excitement of the celebration. I remind myself that this is an opportunity to get to know Jack's closest friends, to learn from their experiences, and perhaps even find common ground that transcends age.

As I pull up to the party venue, my heart starts racing. I take a moment to gather myself and adjust my dress, wanting to make a good impression on Jack's friends.

Stepping out of the car, I take in the scene before me. The venue is a big club-like building. I can hear the faint sound of music and laughter drifting through the air, signaling that the party is in full swing.

Walking towards the entrance, I can't help but feel a surge of anticipation. I take a deep breath, reminding myself to be confident and embrace this opportunity to connect with Jack's friends. After all, they mean a lot to him, and I want to show them the best version of myself.

As I enter the party, I'm greeted by a wave of friendly faces and the buzz of conversation. Jack spots me from across the room and flashes a bright smile, making my heart skip a beat. His presence instantly puts me at ease, and I feel a sense of comfort and familiarity wash over me.

We quickly make our way to each other. He scoops me up in a warm, tight hug. "Hey, Cheesecake! I was wondering when you'd arrive."

"I was coloring my face in longer than expected." I pull my head back, pecking his lips.

"Like that was necessary." He puts me down and takes my hands, checking me out from head to toe. "Purple. My favorite color."

"I thought I'd please you since it's your birthday party." I let go of his hand and twirl.

His eyes roam up and down my body, pulling me into him. "Let's go say hi to everyone before I get too touchy. My grandma can't wait to meet you."

"Your grandmother is here?" I widen my eyes, surprised at what he just told me. "Jack, you really invited your grandparents to a rave?"

"It's not a rave."

Jack takes my hand and confidently navigates me through the bustling crowd. He leads me with such grace, effortlessly maneuvering through the sea of people.

As we get closer to the booth, I can see his parents and grandparents sitting there, all smiles and excitement. Jack leans in and whispers, "You're gonna love 'em! Oh, and they're my mother's parents." I can't feel nerves bundling up in the pit of my stomach. Meeting the grandparents is always a big deal, right?

We reach the booth, and his parents immediately jump up, enveloping me in a tight group hug. Maggie starts buzzing with conversation. "We haven't seen you in a week. Where have you been?"

"I was just busy with work. And lots of shopping with Caeser." I chuckle, pulling away from them.

Jack pulls me away from them, into his side. "Mom, Dad, this is the part where I'm supposed to introduce her to Grandma and Grandpa."

"Sorry. We'll let you get to that." She sits back down, pulling Brian with her.

Jack introduces me with a proud grin on his face. "Grandma, Grandpa, this is Logan. She's been keeping me sane the last time." His parents exchange knowing glances while his grandparents give me warm, welcoming smiles. "Logan, these are my grandparents, Thomas and Kathleen."

Jack's grandma takes my hand and says, "Well, aren't you just a cutie! We've been dying to meet the person who's captured our grandson's heart."

His grandpa chuckles and adds, "Welcome to the family, Logan. We're a wild bunch, but we'll make sure you have a good time."

"It's very nice to meet you, Mr and Mrs Payette." I smile at both of them lovingly.

"Oh honey, cut the formalities. Grandpa Tom just welcomed you into the family. Grandma Kat is fine." She rubs her thumbs over my knuckles reassuringly.

"Come sit here with us." Maggie moves over a bit, making room for Jack and I.

I move in next to Maggie, placing my bag on the table. Jack sits next to me, placing his arm behind, holding my hand with his free hand.

"Jack showed us lots of pictures of you. You seem like a very adventurous person." Grandpa Tom immediately starts the conversation.

I glance at Jack, smiling widely. "Well, I do enjoy trying new things and exploring different places. I guess you could say I have a bit of an adventurous spirit."

"And she especially likes to challenge me." Jack kisses the side of my head.

Alexis and I walk out of the photobooth, squeezing through the sea of people. "Do Jack and Urban even know all these people?" I yell in Alexis's ear, competing with the music.

"To be honest, I have no cooking clue. It's most likely that they invited all of these people just for the vibe." She yells back, pulling me in the middle of the dance floor. "Now, let's forget about all these people and enjoy ourselves!"

We sway our bodies together. At first, we're just jumping around, seeing who can show off the silliest moves. That is until Alexis spots Jack and Urban by the bar with the rest of their friends, sitting side by side, clearly talking about us as they're watching us dance.

We trade our goofy dance moves for sexy ones, showing off to the boys. Their body language shifts as we start grinding on each other, giggling like crazy. I blow a kiss to Jack like I'm not doing anything wrong. For a moment, Alexis and I act like we don't even notice the guys. We hang on each other, yelling in each other's ears.

"I am definitely getting laid tonight. Urban is looking at me with his fuck-me-eyes." She leans back a little, adjusting her dress.

"Before you continue, I don't want to know what styles you're going to explore." I laugh, letting my head fall on her shoulder.

Alexis rolls her eyes, spinning me around. "It's not like you're such an angel yourself. I know you're thinking about Jack in the dirtiest ways."

Just as I'm about to say something, I feel a pair of hands on my waist. Just by the touch of it, I immediately know who it is. "Sorry to barge into your conversation like this, but is it possible for me to get some alone time with my girlfriend?"

I turn my head a little, looking at him. Alexis lets me go and wiggles her eyebrows at us. "Go ahead! I better get to my fiancé." She backs away, slowly.

With a gentle tug on my hand, Jack leads me off the dance floor. I notice him carrying my bag as well. His parents must've left already since I left my bag at their booth.

We make our way up a flight of stairs, the sound of laughter and music fading into the distance. As we climb higher, the air grows cooler, and anticipation fills the space between us.

Finally, we reach the top of the stairs, and the door creaks open. Jack quickly locks it behind us, ensuring that we have complete privacy. The noise from the party below fades away, replaced by a serene atmosphere.

The rooftop is a hidden oasis, a secret escape from the bustling party below. It is decorated with cozy seating areas and soft lighting. The city skyline stretches out before us, a breathtaking backdrop to our private moment. We find a comfortable spot on a plush couch and settle in.

Jack wraps a blanket around my arms, ensuring that I get warmed up. He leans in closer, his voice low and intimate. "You were trying to be funny down there, weren't you?"

A grin spreads across my face, leaning back against the couch. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

He rests his hand on my thigh, teasing me like I've been teasing him on the dance floor. "You know exactly what you did. And I have to admit, you're pretty good at it." He places a soft kiss on my jawline, rubbing tiny circles on my thigh.

My breath hitches in my throat, his touch alone causing a wetness to grow in my underwear. "Alexis and I were just having fun."

"The way you were dancing says that you weren't just having fun." He smashes his lips on mine, kissing me roughly. I let the blanket fall off my shoulders, running my hands through his hair. He squeezes my thigh, tracing his kisses down my neck. "Do you mind if I have myself another birthday present?"

I pull away, breathing heavily, eyes still closed. Not being able to get a word out, I just nod.

In a matter of seconds, he's on his knees in front of me. His hands slide underneath my dress, grabbing on the hem of my thong. "Are you sure?"

I nod once again, giving him an assuring look. His eyes lock with mine as he pulls my underwear down. The way my chest rises and falls becomes more visible as my nerves grow.

Jack pushes my dress up to my waist and kisses my inner thighs as he spreads them away from each other. Now he's face to face with my vagina. "We can really stop if you don't want to do this."

"No, no, no!" I immediately put my hands in his hair, bringing him closer. "Of course I want to. I'm just a little nervous."

He takes a few seconds to look at my pussy. Now, all the insecurities start to float around all sections of my brain. Am I shaved perfectly? What if I don't taste good to him? What if my vagina is too fat for his liking?

His fingers lightly part my lower lips, his gaze lingering on my pussy, seeing the dripping mess pooling. I can feel his hot breath hovering near my hole. He dives into my core, licking my clit slowly, running his fingers through my slit.

He doesn't hesitate to put in two fingers, watching as I gasp out in pleasure. He pumps them in and out slowly, squeezing my hip with his other hand. My eyes close, and my head falls back, lips parted as he does his thing down there. My fingers thread in his hair, pulling, twisting, keeping him in place.

A few moans escape my mouth, causing Jack to thrust his fingers faster. He hums, sending vibrations through my body. I lift my legs and throw them over his shoulder, squeezing my legs shut around his head. I remove a hand from his head, running it over my clothed breasts.

At this point, I'm a moaning mess. My body coils together, grasping at his fingers, so wet now that I can hear the slippery sounds every times he drives back into me.

I can feel my core tightening, and my moans become louder as his tongue and fingers become even more pleasurable. He gentles his hand, so I'm brought back from the brink. I cum instantly again and again, falling apart beneath him.

My legs fall down beside him as he pulls his fingers out, sucking the stickiness off of it. He kisses my knee and smiles up at me. "Do you always get wet so easily?"

[slytherheign]

THE WAY I LOVED YOU | max verstappen

PART 3/4 OF BROKEN GLASS AND HONEY SERIES.

CAN ALSO BE READ AS A ONE-SHOT.

PAIRINGS: ex!max verstappen x fem!reader, daniel ricciardo x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 1.6k

SUMMARY: you're with someone new now, but memories of the past still haunt you relentlessly.

WARNINGS: feelings of hurt and guilt, mentions of an unhealthy relationship, and allusion to sex. let me know if i missed any warnings. [⚠︎︎RATING: 16+]

AUTHOR'S NOTE: inspired by taylor swift's song with the same title. reader's choice is made in this one. sorry in advance for hurting y'all but trust me all will be well in the last part.

DESTINATION: Angst Avenue | GO TO SERIES MASTERLIST or GO BACK TO THE STATION.

Those two sets of three little words.

I miss you. 

I love you.

And you swore your heart jumped and your world stopped again.

How did you end up here? You thought you were past this. 

You were with Daniel now, someone who cared and loved you wholeheartedly. He was wonderful, and he deserved all of your affection. But, truth be told, there were times when your mind wandered off to a place you wished it wouldn't.

Memories, like fragments of a broken mirror, haunted you relentlessly. The laughter you shared with Max, your late-night conversations, the way he looked at you... It was all so beautiful, so genuine. And now, you felt guilty for even acknowledging those memories.

But love wasn't something that faded easily, was it? It lingered, hidden in the darkest corners of your soul, reminding you of what was once pure and electric. It was as if you were two puzzle pieces, fitting perfectly together. But life had different plans, and the road you walked upon veered in opposite directions.

You wished you could erase the unwanted emotions, and replace them with unwavering loyalty and devotion. But the heart was a complicated thing, a labyrinth of contradictions. It was telling you to stay committed, to cherish what you have. Yet, it whispered Max's name when you least expected it, tugging at your heartstrings with every beat.

You couldn't help but question yourself. Were you being unfair to Daniel? To your relationship? How could you truly be present when scattered fragments of your heart remained entwined with someone from the past?

But there was a reason why the heart was situated on the left side of our bodies.

It was because it was not always right.

Max told you to use your brain, and that was what you needed to do.

You needed to confront the residual emotions, for the sake of both your present and your future. It wouldn’t be easy, but it was necessary. You owed it to Daniel, to yourself, and to love itself.

6 MONTHS LATER.

You couldn’t ask for anything better.

Daniel Ricciardo was the embodiment of peace and the personification of sunshine. He gave the biggest smile a person could ever see—the type that once was shown to you, your mouth would automatically mirror his.

He was a sensible man—an incredible feat he had that made all your single friends jealous of you and your relationship. He was the special someone you would dream about every night.

“You look beautiful tonight,” he said, opening the door for you as you entered his car. You wore a gorgeous dark blue velvet dress that highlighted the shape of your body. “Thank you,” you replied, feeling… perfectly fine.

You watched him walk around the car until he settled on the driver’s seat and locked the door. He glanced at you with that contagious smile of his. You looked at him. “What?” you chuckled.

“Nothing,” he shrugged but he was still grinning. “You seem excited about something,” you commented. “Where are we going, Dan?”

He turned the key and started the engine. But before he could push the pedal down and drive the car, he looked at your confused face again. “You’ll see,” he winked.

You couldn’t ask for anything better.

Daniel Ricciardo was the type of man you’d wish upon the stars and that someone you’d wish for as you blew the candles out. A true gentleman who made sure you were happy at all times—always putting your needs and wants above his.

He always respected your space and your boundaries. He never made you wait and would call exactly when he said he would. He was close to your mother and talked with your father who was a businessman, though most times he probably didn’t even understand what your father was saying. He was charming, endearing, and with him, you were comfortable.

The ride ended and he took you to an exclusive restaurant on a rooftop where you could see the skyline beneath the starry night sky. 

Deep inside you, you could already feel the anxiety creeping up on you. You had no idea why, but something about this night made you extremely nervous and uneasy. You just hoped he didn’t notice it.

You were in awe when you realized he booked the entire rooftop for just the two of you. In the middle, laid a table for two with white sheets. Atop were expensive wine, two glasses, and luxurious cutlery. 

He led you to the table, pulling your chair for you to sit on. You thanked him as you adjusted yourself into a comfortable position. He smiled and then winked again.

It made you even more nervous.

A waiter made their way to your table, serving you your meal which was pre-ordered by Daniel. He never asked you what your favorite type of food was, but he knew the exact food that you would love.

“How did you know?” you asked him, looking at your plate with your favorite food.

“I observe you every time. Whenever we go out to eat, I take note of what you always order. This wasn’t actually on their menu, but I managed to convince them to cook it.”

Truly, you couldn’t ask for anything better.

You have felt your heart beat fast countless times when he was around you.

But your heart never skipped around him.

It never jumped and fell for him.

Daniel Ricciardo was the man of your dreams.

But Max.

Max Verstappen.

He was the man of your desires.

All the screaming and the never-ending arguments with him, the fighting almost every night before you went to bed, the throwing of items at each other when things got intense—you missed all of them.

The raised voices, the shattered glasses, the rough way he touched you when you made up in your bed after each argument…

The crying. The breaking up. The making up. The kissing in the rain.

You missed it.

You knew you shouldn’t, but you terribly missed it all.

There were times you found yourself cursing his name in your head at 2 a.m., while you rested with Daniel next to your bed. 

You shouldn’t even think of him. This was wrong.

But the breaking down and the coming undone, the way he always pushed you into a wall as he shut you up with a kiss, the way he pulled your hair while he destroyed you from behind—you missed the roller coaster kind of rush. You craved the toxicity.

Max Verstappen was toxic and the type of man your mother taught you to avoid when you were just a child. But the toxicity of everything made you live for the thrill of it all. Both of you, so in love, that you acted insane. You never even knew you could feel that much when you were around him.

That was the way you loved him.

You looked at your boyfriend, Daniel, who happily told you some of his favorite memories. You weren’t even listening to him, you just laughed along every time he laughed. He couldn’t see the smile you were faking. 

When he stood up and guided you to a slow dance, you followed his moves and looked deep into his eyes.

For a second you swore you saw his face. The wild, crazy, frustrating, intoxicating, and complicated man. But after a blink, it returned to Daniel.

How was it, that after all this time, Max Verstappen still haunted you? 

And how was it, that after all this time, you still let him?

All of a sudden Daniel pulled away from you and you looked at him confusingly. Your heart started beating fast again. He took a few steps back…

And then he knelt down on one knee. He pulled a small box from his suit, opening it to reveal a beautiful ring. He had shown that ring to you before. It was his mom’s.

“Y/N, will you marry me?”

He was proposing.

It was now or never.

Present or past.

Calm or chaos.

Sweet or toxic.

Dream or desire.

Honey or broken glass.

Daniel or Max.

“Danny…” you said his name, a tear falling down your face. You crouched down to his level, hugging him.

And then you stood up, still crying.

“I’m sorry…” 

You turned your back on him immediately, not wanting to see his face after you broke his heart. You wanted to look back, but you decided not to. You didn’t want to know the sight of him breaking down.

If you were going to remember Daniel’s face, you wanted to remember his big smile. Not his broken expression after you killed his heart.

You just shattered the heart of the sweetest man you have ever known. You just killed his butterflies.

You couldn’t ask for anything better from him, because you knew the best you’ve ever felt was with Max Verstappen.

So you ran away. From the place and from him.

You traded serenity with madness and chose the rocky road instead of the smooth sailing waves of the sea.

And now you found yourself at the place where Max and you had your first date.

It was 2 a.m. and it started raining. There was a streetlight above you from where you were standing.

You closed your eyes, basking in the feeling of rain that was pouring heavily. It was kind of comforting because the raindrops concealed your tears. 

And then the rain suddenly stopped touching you and all that was left on your face was the drops that your eyes teared.

You opened your eyes, only to see a shadow of an umbrella and a man holding it to stop you from getting wet any longer.

You turned around to see his face.

Max Verstappen.

SLYTHERHEIGN TAGLIST: @writingstoraes @joshiiieeenesx

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[ilovewriting06]

Promises

A/N: I’m back….again, hopefully for good this time. I’m working on a few more one shots and there may or may not be a couple series in the making. I also wanted to thank @kati-1997 for all the amazing ideas and help she gives (most of my writing is inspired by her ideas or at least incorporate her ideas).

I sigh as I finish up the autopsy as Max walks in. “Is everything okay Dr. Y/L/N?” I hum and look at him, “What? Yeah, yeah I’m okay. Why do you ask?” He tilts his head as he throws his gloves into the trash can, “It’s just today you’ve seemed quite perturbed and slightly irritable at times.”

I sigh again as I set my clipboard on my desk, “I’m sorry Max I didn’t mean to seem rude. It’s just.” I sigh as I sink into my chair and run a hand down my face, “Oh Max I’m sorry I don’t want to dump my burdens onto you.” He pushes his glasses up his nose and protests, “It’s hardly a burden, I consider you a close friend and I would like to help if I can.” I brush some hair away from my face and lean forward in my chair, “Its just, this morning I got into a fight with my boyfriend and I said some things, mean and nasty things, that aren’t true and I don’t know why I said them and now I don’t know what to do.”

Max leans against my desk before nodding, “I did not know you were seeing someone but it appears to me that you simply have to apologize.” I shake my head and groan, “You don’t get it, I can’t just apologize. He-, we-, it’s just, god Max it’s not that simple. What if he calls it off even after I apologize?” Max looks at me with serious eyes before asking, “Do you love him?” My eyes widen and I nod, “Yes! Of course I love him.”

Max nods as if he already knew the answer, “Then you at least owe him an apology, even if he does end it if you truly love him you need to apologize.” I nod knowing he’s right before jumping as a familiar voice cuts in, “Apologizing is definitely something that you should do, especially if you mean it. Speaking from personal experience a little remorse goes a long way.”

I spin around to meet the ocean blue eyes that I had watched break from my words just this morning. I lick my lips and nod, “I am sorry, truly and genuinely sorry. I never meant the things I said and I don’t know why I did it but I regret doing it.” I watch a smile threaten to give away his cover before he nods, “Just tell him that and I think you’ll be okay.” A small smile graces my face and I nod, “I will, I promise I’ll find a way to make it up to him too.” Steve nods before him and Danny look at Max, “Alright Max, what was it you called about?”

Once Max was done telling them the autopsy report on their latest victim they bid their goodbyes and start leaving. I bite my lip trying to decide what to do when I take off down the hall after them. When I get close to them I call out, “Commander McGarrett! Can-can I borrow you for a second?” He spins around to look at me before hesitantly nodding, “Yeah, here we’ll go in here so we have privacy, unless you don’t mind Danny hearing anything you say.” I know the silent question he’s asking with those words, is it about our relationship or about something else?

I point towards an empty room, “Privacy, please.” He nods leading us to the door before turning back to Danny, “I’ll be out in a second.” I see Danny’s concerned face before he nods, “Yeah, it’s fine I’ll wait here.”

When we get in the room and the door’s closed I grab Steve’s cheeks as tears threaten to spill down mine, “I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry! I didn’t mean what I said, if I had a problem with you putting your life on the line I shouldn’t have ever went out with you. I don’t have a problem with it, well, I mean I do because I can’t imagine my life without you, but I’ve come to terms with it. I don’t know what got into me this morning but, i-if you feel that you need to go to North Korea, go. I just have this feeling that it’s a bad idea and I know that you’re a SEAL I know you’ve done stuff like this before but you’d be dealing with Wofat, and he wants to kill you. It’s just, I don’t know how to explain it. I guess, I guess I’m just scared.”

I sniffle as I watch Steve’s face soften before he cups my cheeks and wipes the tears that I didn’t even notice had fallen, “I know you’re scared, I see it every day, even before we got together you were always scared for the team. I promise you, I’ll be okay, I’ll come home to you.” I nod as I feel more tears threaten to fall as I bury my face in his neck and wrap my arms around his torso. His hands slide to hold me close and he rubs a hand up and down my back, “I’ll come home to you, I’ll always, come home to you.”

I pull back just enough to make eye contact with Steve and I nod, “S-Steve, there’s something else that makes me want you to stay.” He brushes a piece of hair from my face as his brows furrow, “What do you mean baby?” I snort at the irony of his words before sighing, “I’m pregnant Steve. At least I think I am, everything adds up and I’ve got a pregnancy test in my bathroom cabinet but I’m too scared to take it.” I step back a little more as his eyes widen and his mouth opens and closes, reminding me of a fish, “What? H-how?” I tilt my head with a small smile, “Stevie, you know how. There’s really only one way to get pregnant.”

I watch as he smiles and pulls me into him before leaving a quick kiss on my lips, “Take the test, before I go. I want to know before I leave.” I smile and nod, “Only if you’ll be there when I do it.” He nods and cups my face, “Do you have any idea how much I love you?” I blush and shrug my shoulders causing him to frown, “Y/N/N, sweetheart, light of my life, you are everything to me. I’ve thought about kids and I honestly never thought I would ever have the chance or meet the right woman but now. Fuck, now I’m standing in front of my secret girlfriend who just told me she’s pretty sure she’s pregnant and I honestly have never been happier.” My smile drops slightly as I ask, “What if I’m not?”

He runs his thumb across my bottom lip with an adorable pout on his face, “Well, if you aren’t, we have all the time in the world, there’s no need to rush. I mean no one except us knows we’re together because I’m worried Wofat will use you against me and I would never forgive myself if he hurt you, because of me. But I’d also be lying if I said a small part of me isn’t overjoyed at the thought of being a father and praying that the test says you are pregnant.”

I smile and grab the back of his head pulling him into a passionate kiss, “I’ll take lunch a little early and head home and you can meet me there before you leave. Just let me know when you’re about to leave.” He smiles his dazzling smile that swept me off my feet the first time we met before nodding, “Yes ma’am.”

When we exit the room I wipe the remainder of my tears off my cheeks as Danny looks between us confused and worried. “Steven what did you do to her?!” I chuckle a little as Steve’s eyes widen, “I didn’t do anything! We talked about what she needed to talk about and she got a little emotional she’s a woman Danny, an emotional one at that.”

I scoff at Steve, “Excuse me, did you just say all woman are emotional? Because that’s not true, my sister’s like a brick wall, in fact you’d be better off making a wall cry than her.” Steve and Danny both laugh before Steve pats Danny’s shoulder, “Alright Danno, we gotta go. See ya later Dr. Y/L/N!” I fake an annoyed growl before yelling after his retreating form, “How many times do I have to tell you?! Call me Y/N!”

The response I get in return is a sly wink and a, “Sure thing Doc.” I roll my eyes before heading back into the morgue.

————————————————-

I take a deep breath as I shakily grab the box that had been tucked away in my bathroom cabinet for a little over a week as a gentle yet firm hand rubs circles into the small of my back silently urging me on as I open the Clear Blue box and pull out the pregnancy test. As I hold the test in one hand I read the instructions. When I set the box and leaflet down I turn to Steve with anxiety bubbling in my stomach, “Are you sure about this? If I take it, and it says I am there’s no going back.”

He uses his thumbs to rub circles into my biceps before pecking my nose, “Babe, no matter what you do, whether you take the test now or not, if you’re pregnant, you’re pregnant there’s no going back.” I wet my lips as I nod, “O-okay, it says I can pee directly on the stick so uh, here we go? I guess.”

I put the cap on the test and set it on the counter before washing my hands. I dry my hands before grabbing onto Steve making sure I can see the test from where I’m resting against him, “Stevie?”

His hand continues rubbing up and down my back, “Yeah, sweetheart?” I nuzzle into the warmth of his chest before sighing, “I kind of hope it’s positive.” He places a kiss on my hair before whispering, “Me too.”

I suck in a breath as the last block fills the screen before gasping at the word on the screen. The one little world that just changed our life forever…pregnant. I turn to Steve with my mouth hanging open to see the same expression on his face before he blinks and looks at me. As soon as we make eye contact he pulls me into a hug that lifts my feet slightly off the ground, “You’re pregnant. We’re going to be parents.”

He sets me down and holds me at an arms distance with a huge smile, “You are going to be the best damn mother ever.” I blush and smile, “And I know you’ll be an amazing father.”

I grab the test off the counter and sigh, “I don’t want to throw it away. It feels like such an important thing now. Like I want to keep looking at it to make sure I’m not dreaming.” I lean into Steve as he wraps his arms around my torso and rests his head on my shoulder pressing kisses along my neck, “Keep it.” I roll my head to the side to give him more access as I choke back a moan, “What?” He chuckles as he runs his nose up my neck before nibbling on my earlobe, “Leave it in your purse or somethin’ that way when you think you’re dreaming you can whip it out and see the proof.”

I let out a laugh that quickly turns to a moan, “Whip it out? Are we talking about the pregnancy test or your dick?” He bit into the juncture of my neck causing me to release a whine, “Steve.”

He hummed before soothing the bite with his tongue. He pulls back slightly and groans when I grind into him, “Baby, I gotta go.” I growled and dig my nails into his forearms, “Steve I swear if you leave me all riled up.” He hisses slightly before chuckling, “Or what? Come on baby, tell me what you’re going to do?” I throw my head back on his shoulder and look up at him, “I’ll be mad at you.” He gasps dramatically before running his hands up my shirt, “We can’t have that now can we?”

—————————————————

I pant slightly, covered in sweat as I button my jeans up. I turn and lean against the counter as Steve zips up his pants and grabs my hairbrush and the pregnancy test off the floor that had been casualties of our escapade. He hands me the pregnancy test and kisses me on the cheek, “Here ya go momma, I do have to go now.” I bite my lip to hold back tears as I nod, “I know, just, promise you’ll be careful.” He smiles a sad smile before nodding, “I promise. I love you.” I pull him in for a kiss and when we pull away I brush his hair back, “I love you too.”

————————————————————

I glance up from my laptop on my desk when the door is thrown open and a disheveled Danny falls through it. He looks at me with wide worried eyes before asking, “Do you know where Max is?” I furrow my eyebrows and shake my head, “No, he said something about running an errand but he left like twenty minutes ago. Why?” Danny runs a hand through his hair as he anxiously paces. I jump up and grab his shoulders, “Danny! Snap out of it, you’re going to make me sick, what happened?”

He stops pacing and takes a deep breath, “It’s Steve.” I let go of Danny as if he burned me and I feel the anxiety that’s been in my stomach since he left turn into dread, “What do you mean? Danny, what’s wrong with Steve?” He sighs and shakes his head and I grab his arm and shake him slightly, “Danny! What the hell is wrong with Steve?!”

“He’s missing.” I step backwards slightly as Danny continues, “We found out that Jenna Kaye was lying to us and we’ve lost all contact with Steve. We think Jenna has been working with Wofat, which means Wofat has Steve.” I feel the blood drain from my face as I dart for the trash can. I retch as the last of my lunch leaves my body and Danny rushes towards me. “Y/N?! Are you okay?!”

At his words I fully process what he says and feel tears start to overflow no matter how hard I tried to hold them back. I try and fail to hold back a sob as I shake my head, “No, no, this isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. He promised.” Danny furrows his eyebrows before taking a step back, “What are you talking about?” My eyes search his face debating if I should tell him our secret and remember that Steve trusts him with his life, so I know he can be trusted. “We- Steve and I- we’re together. Like together together.”

Danny shakes his head confused, “What?” I wipe my tears as I run and grab my purse remembering that I took Steve’s advice and squirreled the pregnancy test in my purse. I willed the tears away as I dug through my purse before finding the little white and blue stick that I had tucked away in a pocket. I shakily hand it to Danny and watch as the confusion morphed into surprise, “You’re? And he’s?” I nod knowing what he’s trying and failing to say, “Yes, I'm pregnant and the baby is his.”

His eyes widen before his facial features soften, “How long have you two?” He trails off and I wipe the remaining tears from cheeks, “A little over a year.” His mouth drops and for a second I thought he was frozen but he snaps out of it and whisper shouts, “A year?! And neither of you said anything?!” I nod, “We were going to, and then Wofat started targeting people close to Steve and he got scared and made me promise to keep it a secret, at least until you guys caught Wofat.”

He nods following along before asking, “Are you going to tell the others?” My eyes widen and I shake my head frantically, “No! Absolutely not, I’m not going to tell anyone anything until Steve is back and we decide if we want to or not, it’s not just my life I’m considering, I’m thinking for three now because god knows Steve doesn’t do much of that.” Danny chuckles and I continue, “Danny, you have to promise me, you can’t tell anyone about this, about the pregnancy or me and Steve.” He nods but I want a verbal response, “Promise me.”

He hands me the pregnancy test before nodding, “I promise Y/N. It stays between us, but I better be the godfather.” I sniffle and nod as I put the test back in my purse, “Deal, now, I’m going with you, I want to know everything you do, he’s my boyfriend and my child’s father, I think I’ve earned that right.” He nods before gesturing me to follow, “Okay, I’ll drive.”

————————————————————

I tap my foot anxiously as the team decides what they want to do. When they finally come to a decision I breathe a sigh of relief knowing that if anyone can find Steve it’s this team (and Joe). As they’re leaving I run to grab Danny’s arm, “Promise you’ll keep me updated.” He squeezes my arm and nods, “I promise, stay here with Lori and I’ll call as soon as we touchdown.” I nod and silently thank him.

—————————————————-

I fiddle with a pen that had been laying on Steve’s desk before jumping when Lori speaks, “I wouldn’t mess with his stuff.” I spin around and nod putting his pen back where he had it, “Oh, yeah, sorry I’m a fiddler when I’m nervous.” She nods before sitting on the couch and putting her feet on the coffee table, “Mind me asking you why you’re so concerned about Steve.”

I manage to not blush before sitting in one of the chairs and turning to face Lori, “Well, we’ve known each other for over a year and he has a way of working his way into your life, even if you don’t want him to.” I narrow my eyes as she sighs wistfully, “Yeah, I understand that.” I clear my throat and stand up from the chair, “Um, I’m going to run to the bathroom really quick. Do you want anything from one of the vending machines?” She shakes her head with a small smile and I spin around on my heal and rush towards the bathroom.

It’s not surprising to know someone else likes Steve but it’s awkward when someone outwardly shows it and it fills me with jealousy knowing that Lori works with him all day everyday and I only get him a few hours every few days. I splash my face with cold water hoping to quell my nausea before pulling out my phone and smiling at the lock screen. It was a picture of Steve and I sharing a quick kiss that I had managed to get a selfie of. I tilt my head back and blink, willing the tears away knowing that if I start crying now I’m not going to stop.

Once I’ve calmed myself down I grabbed some M&M’s from the vending machine and head back to Steve’s office. When I step into the office Lori is on the phone and I rush forward, “Are they there?” She smiles and nods before pulling the phone away from her ear and putting it on speaker. I sit beside her on the couch and listen as Danny rants about the poor excuse of a helicopter they call Tangerine and that when they opened the door chickens jumped out. He continues relaying the plan before asking, “Hey, Lori, is Y/N there?” I lean forward before answering, “Yeah, Danny I’m here, you’re on speaker.”

“Can I talk to you privately for a minute?” I bite my lip and grab the phone before turning it off speaker and walking across the room, “Yeah Danny, it’s just me now.” I hear him clear his throat before he asks, “How are you holding up?” I let out a noise of discontent and he sighs, “Yeah I figured, probably still dealing with morning sickness. Has that bothered you anymore since our conversation yesterday?” I shrug as I answer, “Yes but no, mostly just nerves, that’s what yesterday was about too. It’s honestly not all that bad.”

I hear him chuckle before he seems to sense the underlying anxiety and stress because his voice gets a little quieter and worried, “Hey, Y/N, listen. I know you’re worried and I can only imagine how you must feel right now but it’s not good for you right now. Just, try and relax, drink a cup of tea or do sudoku.” I snort, “That’ll just stress me out more, I don’t have the patience for sudoku I don’t understand the fun of it either.” I can all but hear the eye roll before he sighs, “Okay but seriously babes, you have to calm down. You worrying and stressing isn’t going to change anything. Look we’re 98% sure we have a lock on his location and I will call you as soon as we get him and I have a chance. I’ll bring him home to you Y/N/N, I promise.”

I bite my lip to hold back tears as I nod, “Thank you, I’ll try and drink some tea, maybe it’ll help.” He lets out a sigh of relief as he says his goodbyes. When I hand Lori the phone she lifts an eyebrow, “What was that about?” I blush slightly before smiling sheepishly, “I’ve been a little sick lately and I threw up yesterday when Danny told me and he was just checking to make sure I was relaxing.” She nods before standing from the couch, “Here lay down, take a nap, I’ll even go get you some tea if you want.” I smile and sit on the couch as Lori leaves the office to presumably get tea.

————————————————————

I sip my eighth cup of tea as Lori and I walk to her car to go to the military airport that the team would be landing at before I groan when my phone hits the ground. Lori spins around as I bend down to pick it up and check to make sure the screen isn’t broken. “Y/N/N, that’s like the third time you’ve dropped that thing today.” I tuck my phone ‘securely’ in the waistband of my leggings again before responding to Lori, “Yeah I know, I have a love hate relationship with these leggings. They don’t have pockets so my phone is constantly falling out but they’re so comfy. Literally feels like I’m not wearing pants.” She chuckles before motioning me to continue, “Come on they should be landing soon.”

I quickly catch up as excitement pumps through my bloodstream. We got the call about thirteen hours ago that they have Steve and would be home in about thirteen hours. I lean my head against the window and close my eyes as my stomach churns. I take slow breaths before opening an eye to glance at Lori, “Do you have any gum, a mint flavor preferably?” She hums before shaking her head, “No sorry, why?” I sigh before closing my eyes again, “Helps with nausea.”

When we pull into the airport I jump out of the car before leaning on the hood waiting for the plane to come into sight. I gag slightly before taking another sip of my tea hoping it’ll calm my stomach but all it does is stir it up more. I heave as I double over and groan when all that comes out is spit since there was nothing in my stomach to come out. Lori rushes over and lays a hand on my back between my shoulder blades, “You okay?” I take a sip of my tea once my stomach has decided to calm down and nod my head, “Yeah, yeah I’m okay.” She looks at me skeptically before nodding and then pointing to the ground, “You dropped something again.” I furrow my eyebrows and look down to see my phone, on the ground, again. “For fucks sake!”

———————————————-——-

I all but shake as the plane lands and oh so slowly the team starts to exit and there he was. He seemed okay, a little beaten and bruised but other than that nothing life threatening. I go to run forward but I’m beaten to it when Lori takes off and embraces him in a hug that is far from a friendly hug. I scowl but blush when Danny comes over, “You’re girlfriendness is showing. How’s the baby SEAL?” I smile and shrug, “I guess okay, making me sick every now and then though.” He chuckles and nods, “I remember those days, Rachel was sicker than a dog for her first trimester.”

I grimace thinking about how she must have felt before purking up as Steve starts walking towards me again. Danny senses my excitement and excuses himself and goes to stand by Joe. When Steve gets about ten feet in front of me I take off running and slow down slightly when I get to him so I’m not colliding too hard into his obviously sore body. I wrap my arms around his upper torso and bury my face in his neck as tears I’ve been holding back for two days start to fall. “I was so scared, Stevie.” He pulls me close and buries his face in my hair as he rocks us slightly, “I know baby, I know. I’m so sorry. I never meant for this to happen.”

I sniffle and nod slightly as I smile, “But you still came home, just like you promised.” I feel him pull back when we hear Kono, “Oh. My. God.” I spin around to face her when I feel the blood drain from my face as I process what she’s holding…my phone. I look at Steve wide eyed and his eyes immediately widen when he realizes what my lock screen is. I scramble forward quickly before grabbing my phone from her hands and making eye contact with her silently begging her to not say anything.

She must not interpret my look or she completely ignored my silent pleas, “You two are dating?!” My mouth opens and closes looking for an answer and glancing at Steve who looks just as helpless as me. I look back at Kono and say the only thing I can think of, “It’s not what it looks like!” She crosses her arms and raises an eyebrow, “Really? And how exactly do you explain why you and boss are locking lips?” My eyes dart between everybody and notice the surprised look on everyone’s face, except Danny, even Joe looks surprised. I feel Steve’s hand on my lower back before he speaks, “Okay, you’re right, there’s really no explanation for that other than the obvious.”

This time Lori steps forward and has the decency to look guilty and slightly horrified, “So, you guys are dating?” I glance at Steve and he gives a subtle nod that says he’s okay that we tell them. I sigh before nodding, “Yes. We’ve been together for a little over a year.” Everyone gapes at us as I smile finally relieved that I can show up when he’s at work to visit and that I can show him affection without worrying if some is watching.

————————————————————

After explaining everything and why we kept it a secret Danny is driving Steve and I back to Steve’s place after I promised him I would stay with Steve and make sure he was okay…and to call if we needed anything. His words to be exact were, ‘Call me if you need anything, and I mean anything, even if you can’t find a toothpick, call me.’ I lean forward resting my head on the side of the passenger seat before grabbing Steve’s hand, “I missed you.” Before Steve can answer Danny gags, “Alright love birds no PDA in my car.” Even though Danny seems perturbed at our fingers being interlaced on the center console I can see the faint smile threatening to curl it’s way onto his lips.

I see Steve roll his eyes before holding my hand a little tighter as if he’s scared I’ll pull away. I hum slightly as Steve finally speaks, “I missed you too, baby. How are you doing?” I rub circles into the back of his hand with my thumb as I answer, “Pretty good, I get a little sick every now and then but it’s not as bad as it could be.” He nods before relaxing into the seat, “That’s good.” I nod and place a kiss to his shoulder before shifting to lean on the drivers seat but maintain a grip on Steve’s hand scared that if I let go he’ll be gone.

———————————————————

When Steve and I are curled up in his bed finally settling down to get some much needed sleep I curl myself around him and he runs a hand through my hair while placing a kiss on the palm of my hand. I glance up at him from my position knowing he wants to talk and smile as I meet clear blue eyes filled with love. “I thought about you the whole time. I remembered my promise to come home to you and it gave me the energy to keep going.” I smile and place a kiss on his chest before snuggling further into him, “I know baby, you kept your promise and I believe you will for the rest of our lives and I’m making a promise to you.” He raises an eyebrow as he glances down, “What’s that momma?” I chuckle and roll my eyes at the nickname before answering, “As long as you keep coming home to me, I promise to always be here waiting, no matter what.”

He squeezes me a little tighter, “Promise?” I push myself up on my forearm before brushing away some stray hairs that had fallen into his face as I study his features that are illuminated by the moon before leaning down and kissing him. When I pull away with my lips still brushing his I whisper, “I promise, you just keep coming home and you’ll see I’m telling the truth.”

Tag List: @kati-1997 @djs8891 @natashamea18

[worldseer]

Who are your top 5 (or top 3) favorite characters from JJK? And why you loved them? And your top 5 favorite moments from the series? Thanks.....

I admit, most of my favorite characters from JJK I somewhat thirst over but I'll try to keep those thoughts out of why I love them (because I do have some genuine reason besides thirst for liking them). 1. Toji Fushiguro

First and foremost, I like his calm attitude yet snarky way of talking. Also he's just a badass. We all all saw him kick ass any time he came on screen. His physique and strength is something to envy ngl (which I had big muscles too). And yes, not the best dad but I KNOW this man was the best fucking husband he could be. 2. Kento Nanami

HE DESERVED SO MUCH BETTER! It's obvious he cares a lot about people, especially young sorcerers. I like to believe that while he hates how Jujutsu Society operates, he tries to make the small changes necessary to make it better (aka not having child soldiers die and get traumatized like he did). Plus I fully agree that both aspects of life (living as a sorcerer or working a normal job) sucks too.

3. Ryomen Sukuna

HOLD ON HOLD ON HOLD ON BEFORE YOU ALL STAB ME TO DEATH CEASAR STYLE- He's genuinely an interesting antagonist to me. He has layers, I think that's apparent. He's cocky, but for good reason. And there have been moments where I near shat my pants watching him (we all saw that Jogo vs. Sukuna fight and those jumpscares he did. Also both VAs did amazing cackles). His true form from the Heian Era is also so cool to look at as well, and I think may inspire me to be more creative with my own character designs in the future.

4. Suguru Geto

HOLD ON, HOLD ON- Once again, I love a layered antagonist and HOLY SHIT HE HAS LAYERS! Like- ok- I get what his goal is. I get what he wants. And frankly, if my lover best friend died, came back to life, and close friend I was meant to protect died as well, yeah I'd be kinda fucked up so see people celebrating and not batting an eye. Yes, running a cult and committing literal genocide are. . . choices. But in the end, his goal is to protect sorcerers (a group constantly being used and controlled by the majority of non-sorcerers) and that makes some sense.

5. Toge Inumaki

I personally think he's a bit underrated, and underutilized. Sure, I know he's not loaded with Cursed Energy but like- that technique he has can be overpowered as hell. Also, I like how he insists on using ingredient names to convey how he feels when he could just- avoid commands? Like he can obviously use nouns. As long as there's a proper subject, then verbs won't use the cursed speech technique (Don't flame me if I'm wrong, I haven't read through too much of the manga). He's cute, I love his vibes, and he is my son. As for moments in the series, they're more small than most expect: 1. Whenever Mahito gets his ass beat - Self explanatory. Yes I'm still fucking mad about what happened to Nobara and Nanami.

2. When Yuji met Toge in the streets of Shibuya - SALMON! But fr, I love the small moments that show friendship between sorcerers that otherwise don't meet up much. And Toge just being there, chilling with a megaphone to help people is funny to me.

3. The last conversation between Megumi and Toji - AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! PAIN! BUT ALSO YOU CAN SEE HOW HAPPY TOJI IS FOR HIS SON! I'M GONE. DEAD.

4. THAT Nanami scene - MAPPA served us good as did Kenjiro Tsuda. "The number and locations of your allies," anything for you, love. Let's go to Malaysia and sit on a beach. I giggle every time.

5. The phone conversation Suguru and Satoru have - The expressions and conversation kill me everytime. They're 'close friends' your honor.

[nerdieforpedro]

We have two Wavelengths

Din Dajrin x plus size female reader

This blog overall is for readers 18+ MDNI

Word Count: about 2k

Summary: You and Din have grown closer since you’ve joined the Razor Crest. A trip to his coven is rather informative and inspires some new thoughts.

Warnings: Two nervous people, maybe a sort of interrogation, we're still all about the hands, actual good advice?, forehead bumps are scandalous!, so are dreams at times, Nerdie is not serious with these tags

Notes: Paz Vizla and The Armorer make an appearance! ☺️ Are they helpful? Maybe. We’ll see.

Main Masterlist/ Din Djarin Masterlist/ Our Journey Across The Star Ocean Series

He told me to call him Din six months ago. Things changed then. For one, I finally knew his name. It’s…fun to say. I’m not sure what that means, I don’t think I say in a weird way, it’s just after calling him ‘Mando’ for so long it’s so good to know his actual name. We’ve been holding hands when sitting in the cockpit together, often without his gloves on. I’m not exactly sure how important that is, but it holds some significance given he’s normally covered head to toe. Even when we make stops to refuel or for different jobs, Din normally has a hand gloved or not on me somewhere. I thought I would be a lot more nervous about the more public display, but I enjoy it. I wonder how I can show him how I feel too, wait how do I feel? 

I mean he did buy me a new work apron (I couldn’t stitch my old one back together. The different patches were coming apart.) and a sort of vest he said to wear when we’re going after bounties. He came back with it a month after we visited ‘The Armorer.’ The name sounds ominous, but she was very kind and had a booming laugh. I feel like if there was ever a time I could picture Din’s helmet turning red with embarrassment, it was when she asked him if I was his ‘riduur (wife/partner).’ That’s clearly something else important because he looked at me while answering and said, “we haven’t discussed anything about that yet. She has equal say in it.” Maybe it means like a full partner in bounty hunting endeavors or something. The way she chuckled makes me think she was teasing him a bit. I thought his body language would only be that stiff around Peli. But he eventually loosened back up in calling me over to shake hands with her. Grogu knows The Armorer well as he jumped in her arms and patted her golden helmet. She planned to take measurements of me and told Din to go check in with someone named Paz. He didn’t seem enthused about this at all but did as she asked.

“You know his true name I assume. This denotes a high level of trust in you.” Walking around me, her head tilted back and forth. “You have been traveling with him for a little under a year, yes?” I nodded to her question and held my arms out as she took a measuring tape off the wall of her forge. “You know not what is under his armor, correct?”

“He’s never removed his helmet in front of me. He would never do that.” It’s a slight sting when I say it, but it’s one of the essential tenets of his creed so even if I’d love if he did, I’d never ask him to do something like that. I feel her touch the blaster on my hip before going to scribble something down and returning to take more measurements.

“Djarin gave you this did he not? Has he given you anything else?” The Armorer sounds genuinely curious with this question. I nodded and told her about my new work apron he recently got for me and a dark green scarf to tie my hair back when I’m out and about. But Grogu normally plays with it and likes to sleep with it sometimes, so I have a yellow one he got me as well as a backup. She’s stroking the bottom of her helmet where I assume her chin might be. “I shall create something for you. You are welcome back here anytime. I will let Djarin know of this as well. Oh! Take this.” She hands me a retractable knife that looks just like Din’s armor. I know what material that is.

“Ma’am this is beskar. I’m not…I can’t take this. It’s only for Mandalorians right?” I’m starting to wonder if she’s testing me, like would you accept something you know you’re not supposed to have just because Din was cool with bringing you here? Hmm? Her laugh fills all the space in her forge, and she claps her hand on my shoulder.

“Consider it a welcome gift my dear. The fact that you’re here already means you have been accepted. Not quite the same as us given our different ways, but I can tell you mean no ill will. Most critical - you respect and care for him and his foundling deeply. If you did not, you’d have met my hammer swiftly.” I feel equal parts relieved and frightened. Din returns with a towering Mandalorian in navy blue beskar. The armor varies greatly, and I wonder if the colors are just personal preference or have other meanings. The navy-blue armor nods in my direction and leaves back down the hallway. The Armorer whispers one more thing to me before picking up Grogu who’s been playing with a dome on the ground. It could be a shield, or shoulder pad? No, the right name for it was…pauldron! “When you get back to the ship and before you rest for your next journey, tap your forehead to the top of Djarin’s helmet. You’ll be wishing him to get you all to your destination safely.” I could hear the smile as she instructed me, and she’s gone to meet Din near a wall of weapons he’s looking through. I feel like that holds significance as well, but again I don’t know what. I’m going to need to add all these to the notes I’ve been keeping about Mandalorian culture.

My vest the Armorer made me had a small gold wrench symbol over the left chest where the entirety of the armor was silver like Din’s. It’s so beautiful but heavy so I needed help putting it on and taking it off for a while until I got more used to it. Din still offered to help me put it on sometimes, so I let him, it’s also another time he doesn’t wear his gloves so I feel his hands on my shoulders and arms. 

I did as The Armorer told me that day when we got back to the ship. Grogu was in his bassinet near my cot. I told Din to get some rest himself and held his hand like I normally do before I leave. This time, I closed my eyes and leaned down to touch my forehead to his cool beskar. I lingered for a few extra seconds and didn’t realize that I had placed my other hand on his breastplate. “Good night Din. Don’t forget to rest too. You’re going to show me some of the basic controls one of these days so you can sleep too.” I bid him goodnight and went off to sleep, recalling his humming. He normally does that when he’s pleased so it was worth feeling a little silly.

Maker I think I’ve done a bit too much. Not that I didn’t want to, I actually want to do more. I’d like to give her the same type of hug Grogu does after one of his naps, snuggled up against her. But I can’t, well I could, but I might set off all the sensors in my armor if I do that. Things have been going smoothly. Her work apron had seen much better days so I got her a new one that’s much more durable and of better quality. This combined with the blaster and two scarves is quite a bit, I’ve pretty much proposed. I’m investing in her, she’s my…well partner for now. We’ve been together nearly a year, that’s enough time. I’ve seen outside of Mandalorian culture I’m supposed to get a ring for her. Figuring the size will be easy. I’ve decided to take her with me on my next delivery of beskar to the coven. 

Every other time, I hate Paz. With the burning passion of The Armorer’s forge when she melts down the beskar I bring, but on this single matter. The mir’sheb (smartass) is right. I told him how our interactions had been so far, exchanges and the like. 

“Sounds like you haven’t really told her anything and have just been giving her stuff without context dumbass. She’s not one of us, how is she supposed to know?” I hate that this nerf herder is correct. I need to have an actual conversation with her about everything. “Has she seen your face Din? You aren’t so far gone that you forgot that, did you?”

“No she has not. She respects the creed. She’s never asked me to do anything to dishonor it.” I had gone with Paz to visit some members of the coven whom I hadn’t seen for a while. We weren’t particularly close, but it’s always best to say hello at least. I’m not sure what conversation The Armorer would have wanted to have with her, but it shouldn’t be bad. I think. 

“It sounds like you’ve found someone you should keep by your side then. Just talk to the woman. If she’s stuck around you this long, it’s in your favor that she’s not going anywhere. Since you already gave her one weapon, you can give another one that suits her along with one of those rings you see those basic humans wear.” Paz snorts and Din hits him on his shoulder. “Calm down Djarin. I didn’t say she was basic. I was referring to non-Mandalorians. You’ve always been so sensitive.” Rounds around the coven went quickly and we were back in the forge where it seemed they had been discussing something important. After getting a new weapon from The Armorer and her telling me to stop back by in a month, we left. I’d already had her hand in mine on our way out. They should know here too that she’s with me. That’s what the ring would be for, wouldn’t it? We picked up some more supplies and headed for the ship. 

Grogu took some rounds of ‘hide the shiny ball’ to settle down to sleep. I was able to sit with cyar’ika (beloved) without interruption. I told her about checking in at the covent and expressed that I’d like her to walk around with me the next time we have beskar to drop off. She expressed that she would and I placed my hand on her knee. A bit forward on my part, but she placed her hand over mine and stood up. I thought she was going to tell me about what her and The Armorer discussed but she told me to get more rest. She’s normally telling me that. I’m used to functioning on less sleep, but I’ve trained myself to wake when I hear odd noises. Until I got used to Grogu’s sounds, I didn’t sleep much the first few months I had him. 

I should have pulled her close and held her. I’m not sure if she knows what the touching of foreheads really means in Mandalorian culture, but she wished me to get some sleep and said something about the controls before she left. In the minute (or maybe longer), she held her forehead to the area above my T-visor. One of her hands is in mine and the other is on my chest. This new level of closeness - I’m not going to let it go. I’m finding I'm so greedy when it comes to her, in a way that I haven’t been, even with the care I provide to my foundling Grogu. I’m humming with glee, at least I think that’s my armor. It could be me, I’ll do diagnostics later.

The dream I have later that night when I fold my arms and wrap my cape around myself to doze off. 

She’s given me another forehead bump, but I’m bold this time and put my arms around her wide hips, pulling her close to press my T-visor into her soft stomach, easing her to sit on my lap. Just having her lean against me, now her cheek pressed against the side of my helmet. I call her cyar’ika while she calls me Din. I hear her say it repeatedly, while I place my hand on her thigh, keeping her in place. 

If she does it again, I’ll definitely pull my mesh’la (beautiful) close like in my dream. We’ll figure out the communication later, I just want to dream right now.

Part Two Part Four

Space Buddies 🚀: @maggiemayhemnj @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @missladym1981 @morallyinept @bishtrouille

@sherala007 @yorksgirl @daddy-dins-girl @604to647 @megamindsecretlair

@anoverwhelmingdin @theincredibleinkspitter @alltheglitterandtheroar @mrsmando @drawingdroid

@harriedandharassed @i-own-loki @lady-bess @pedroshotwifey @thefrogdalorian

@ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @jessthebaker @connectioneverywhere @grogusmum

[carcarcraziiv2]

HEARTSTEEL FIRST MEETING HCs (PART TWO)

Dis for daddy Yone and my love Aphelios. 💗

~*-If you enjoyed, feel free to send me asks (however that works) with prompts. I also enjoy writing about other league characters as well if you're into that!-*~

Aphelios:

Art classes were never really your thing. You were more into writing, and when your best friend invited you to a creative writing workshop you couldn't help but take the opportunity.

You two got to the class early and were shocked to find out that it was being sponsored by one of your favorite band's lyricists, Aphelios from Heartsteel. The excitement you felt at being able to spend your time at a place that someone in the band even thought about had you more inspired than you were previously.

During the workshop, you wrote a nice little series of poems while you daydreamed about the band. The entire time you kept getting nudges from your best friend because you found yourself mindlessly humming their songs.

At the end, you were surprised to find out that they were hosting a contest to meet the band based on the works submitted if you so wished at the end of the night. You did, and you were even more shocked when a few weeks later you got an email stating that you had won!

The email read as follows-

Dear Y/N,

We would like to begin by thanking you for your submission to the Heartsteel: Meet the Band! competition hosted by Aphelios. Based on the band's review of your work, they would like to designate you as the winner! With our sincerest congratulations, please see the information below with the destination, date, and time!

The rest of the letter contained as it stated, and you were ecstatic. The days passed quickly and before you knew it, you were driving to the location of the meet and greet.

Walking into the small very secure building, you were greeted by a pleasant young woman who led you to a small room with a couch and a few plush chairs. You took a seat, and she left letting you know it would be a few minutes.

You were antsy as you sat there but giddy none the less. Soon enough, the door opened, and you stood in excitement as the members of Heartsteel walked in. Sett, Kayn, Ezreal, Yone, K'Sante, and finally Aphelios.

They all greeted you happily, and finally Aphelios gave you his hand in greeting, a sweet smiling gracing his face. You all discussed things, you got photos, and by the end you were feeling so happy that they were all as cool and nice (Kayn was kinda sus but...) as you had hoped!

It seemed like during the whole time, Aphelios kept writing to you that you had genuinely impressed him.

I really liked your work. It spoke to me. Did you write them based on each of us?

"I did! I thought since you were sponsoring the event I may as well make it Heartsteel inspired," you laugh nervously, running a hand over your head. "I'm glad you like it."

I was wondering if you would like to get together for some writing sessions? I know it's kind of off the wall here but... I wouldn't mind learning more about the way you think.

"I would love to!" You smile, and he gives you his phone to type your number into, and you couldn't help but add a cheeky smiley face next to your name.

I look forward to seeing you again soon! He wrote, and you all said your goodbyes.

You were smiling your whole drive home, and as you got ready to go to bed you heard your phone vibrate on your side table.

Your heart fluttered as you read the message:

Hey, it's Aphelios. Is this Y/N?

YONE:

You always liked going out to a coffee shop to do your work in the mornings. It made you feel more businesslike, for some reason, when you got to go work in a place where everyone is in suits and also on laptops.

The day started like any other. Gathering your things, you headed to a new-to-you coffee shop downtown. When you arrived, you headed inside and sat down after you ordered your drink and a little breakfast sandwich.

Opening your laptop, you got right to work moving files and typing away at emails. You had your headphones in listening to some soft indie pop and you bobbed your head along to it as you wrote.

After about thirty minutes, you took a little break to stretch your fingers and glance around at the other people sitting at tables around you. Turning your attention toward the window, you saw him.

A tall looking man with long white hair with red streaks in a ponytail sat with his head face first into a little MacBook. You couldn't help but gawk at his overall attractive features, as he has focused green eyes and neat but chiseled features. You wondered what his voice sounded like.

You nearly fall out of your seat the way you turn away when his gaze shifts to look at you. He must have felt someone staring at him, and you could feel the heat rising in your cheeks. Okay, that's awkward.

Trying to quickly forget that you just got caught staring, you get back to work. You had only planned on staying at the coffee shop for a few hours while you got through your morning emails, but this man was a revelation you weren't willing to leave just yet.

Over the next few minutes, you kept stealing peaks at him, and to your surprise he kept looking back at you. At one point, he smiled politely at you as if to say, "Need something?"

Finally, after getting multiple messages from your boss that you hadn't noticed due to your wandering thoughts you decided to brush it all off and dive back into your work. Before you knew it, an hour had gone by and you looked quickly toward the direction of where the man had been sitting. Disappointed, you realize that he was no longer there. You shrug to yourself and start packing up your things, pulling out your headphones and shoving them in your bag.

Just as you are about to stand up, you feel a tap on your shoulder that causes you to jump slightly.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," You hear as you turn to face the person who tapped you. To your dismay, it was the man who you had been caught staring at.

"It's okay!" you laugh nervously. "Um... What's up?"

"I just noticed you kept looking at me and well, I couldn't help but keep looking at you... and I was wondering if you would like to meet here again for coffee in the morning while you do whatever it is you're doing?" You can see the man blushing, and you wonder inwardly if he was as nervous talking to you as you were about talking with him. "Oh, and I'm Yone. Sorry, I forgot to mention that."

"I'm Y/N," You say in response. "And that would be cool, I usually go get coffee in the morning anyway. Sorry for staring at you earlier, I got kind of carried away I guess." Oh. My. God. Why am I word vomiting on this poor man?

"Don't worry, I kind of liked catching you off guard a few times. It was cute." He says, and you can't help but to blush again. "I'll see you in the morning then, Y/N." He smiles, turns away and leaves you flabbergasted and blushing in the coffee shop.