#THEY MAKE ME SOFFFFFT

[theslayerbrother]

Bros forever, their friendship is Special

[zahlibeth]

List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox of the last 10 people who reblogged something from you! get to know your mutuals and followers ♡

yessssss. okay 5 more things! Little things that are making me happy today:

it's a week day but i don't have to go ANYWHERE because my kid is home for the week. So I'm working in my pj trousers and a comfy hoodie and soffffft socks (while husband handles the parenting)

clocks changed at the weekend for UK/Europe, so I got a lie-in yesterday and it feels like I'm getting a bit more sleep when I wake up before my alarm and get to doze a sec

...and also that puts an hour more between me and all y'all in the US, so it's nice to get a little more of my friends for a week until you change clocks too

about to eat the rest of my new delicious biscuits (cookies) for snack time, they have a lil gingerbread filling and they're sooo good

having a day where i've found the exact right music to keep my brain chill and productive. love this for me! It's a surprisingly chill Monday

[effervescentdragon]

Ok. So now that I'm a bit calmer!

The first one.

Soffffft but painful and then so heartwarming. My poor heart. Their yearning. How no matter how much time has happened they couldn't forget the other and their own beings are still so familiar to the other.

Carlos confessions, how after all the time that passed he is able to say what he possibly wanted to say for years but was too cowardly or too stubborn to feel and say. How Charles needs to hear all of it. Needs to be sure about it. How they tease each other.

The pain they went through, how it marked them but in the end they were still made for each other and finally free to properly act on their love. How everything has changed but it's still the same.

Their I love yous, the words that they have hold for so long, and the tears 🥺😭♥️♥️♥️

It was a rollercoaster, and I loved every line of it.

Renaissance princess. Soooooooooo hot.

Yes! Beautiful and pretty are perfect words to describe Charles.

The rings! Charles still being bossy!

How they know what to do to make the other go crazy. How even when they say things they shouldn't the other doesn't care and just accepts it.

Love how you always try to include the cracked lips (Charlie babes buy a lip balm) or references to Ferrari... Rosso corsa.

That last paragraph....yes boys, you are fucked. And not in the literal sense of the word! ,and maybe....yep, not maybe needed.!

You should like it because it was great!!! Super hot, incredibly well written and still our two boys not being able to admit out loud what they really feel even if their actions speak for them.

Thank you so so much for writing them! You have made my week and the start of the weekend improve a lot! ♥️♥️

thank you so, so much for this lovely feedback on my little drabbles <3 you guys prompt me with wonderful ideas and i can just be glad that you like what i come up with <3 the shared pain of being a ferrari driver and the mythology-like quality of ferrari is something i love to explore and milk for all that its worth, and i will never stop because there is just soooo much there :D and im loving it.

thank you so much for this. it means the world, especially when im down and insecure and struggling with my writing <3

[laurelier]

ello meg top o the morning to ya. i woke up thinking about harry, as one does, and thought i'd drop by your inbox again. it's about his tour outfits, more specifically, and you wrote something about them ((i hope you remember where bc i couldn't find it)) being purposely chosen to make us direct our attention to him and the entirety of the concert as a whole, instead of his body/looks (right, i hope you said that)

anyway, i totally agree with that, and today i woke up with thoughts of comfort and how harry seems to be someone who holds on to trinkets and wears the same pieces of clothing to offer him that comfort of familiarity. like with the worn-down vans, a lot of the rings, etc. so then i thought it was only the most natural of choices for a tour like this, after/during a crazy anxiety-inducing time, to go with comfy, comforting outfits. just keeping the variables of shit giving harry stress as low as possible, as well as making sure he is at ease on stage. (bc he did make it known before how his tour outfits weren't comfortable and some days you can deal with that and others you're just. no. yk? like i love dressing up and looking crazy but nothing beats the blissful comfort of Big Pants... yk?)

apparently i don't know how to keep anything short or quick so i hope you're happy with this absurd morning rant of mine 🥸🧜‍♀️

Ello Ella I am. SO. happy with this not at all absurd morning rant of yours. So sosoosososo happy and ugh just this made me so soffffft just. H holding onto trinkets and meaningful objects. All those little trademarks he has. H being comf. It's so tennndeerrrrrr.

And about his tour outfits and being gazed at—I did say that in a tagrant a while ago! Wee! Your ask came at a time when I’ve had this recent post of @swimmingleo's on the brain, where they talked about Harry and the POV of those backstage shots. So I’m just gonna kinda mush this together with that.

Like, idk, lots of artists do tour uniforms or even wear the same exact clothes every night, where H has been switching up the colors all the time, so maybe I'm making a mountain out of a molehill here, but. I think the invasiveness of the behind the scenes bathroom photos vs. the relative looseness/uniformity of the tour uni kind of..... say ~*~things**~…… when they're put opposite one another. We both assemble/construct and disassemble/deconstruct ourselves in bathrooms, right—we turn ourselves into whatever we've been asked to be, and also care for our bodies in really basic intimate physical ways—so, like. That environment where there's no one but you to see you, before you have to perform—plus the glitzy shell of the Big Pants tour outfits that I feel are meant to encourage looking at H with a bit more softness? It's like there's a mixing of those two spaces, almost, like, pulling a little bit of the genuineness and comfort of privacy onto the stage, which is obvi a place where artists are seen/consumed by their audience.

Honestly I think Leo's point that these backstage photos bring up the way H is constantly being observed, even in spaces where he recovers from that exposure, holds more water—but I do wonder at the combo of the clear preference for loose-fitting, sort-of uniform clothes and the way he's sharing pretty vulnerable little moments recently.

TLDR I know I'm not the only one wondering if there's something being said in this overwhelming deluge of tour content H is giving us about the way the world just. Eats Harry up, and how he seems to be using vulnerability and softness and, yeah, like you said, comfort, in conversation with that. Lil Leeds bracelet wearing mf.

[fandom-blackhole]

Hi new friend! Your Pero Tovar soft HC about the inn showed up on my dash and so now of course I have to follow you 😘 Here’s a flower from me since you’re sad. 🌼

I have a very soffffft HC I need to pick your brain about. Can you flash forward about 14-18 months on the inn?

I need you to tell me more about this handsome man and how protective he gets when I’m pregnant with our first baby and working hard around the inn. How he puts his hands on my belly, makes me sit down to take a rest, massages my legs and feet after a long day... how he growls at rude customers, throws out a drunk who’s causing trouble... and how he makes sure I always have a mug of hot tea with honey at my elbow. 💖 Thank you. 🥰

Thank you for the flower 🥺💕, and thank you for sticking around! I hope my blog doesn't disappoint too much lol

Original THOT

Ok so like 14 months later you and Pero are married and expecting your first child, because lets be honest this man did not hold himself back and went to work trying to make the perfect kid with you

The second you announced your pregnancy Pero is just instantly proud Papa mode, constantly smiling in your direction and trailing his hands along your belly whenever he can

And you thought that the man was protective before, well now he's so much more protective. If one man even looks at you wrong he's ready to fight

One time a man got drunk and said "I bet she's great in bed" and Pero slammed his face into the table breaking his nose, before throwing the man out

You have to stop Pero from going shopping or to the market because everytime he does he brings back more and more stuff for the baby and treats to spoil you with

You have a weird craving? Pero is like, um okay? And then is just running off to get whatever it is so you feel better

Ok, whatever you do, don't imagine Pero as your belly gets bigger and bigger whispering sweet things to your child or even singing lullabies in his native tongue to them every night before bed

Pero being the absolute sweetest husband and reassuring you that you are still beautiful and perfect as you are doubting yourself as you grow bigger

In the last stages of your pregnancy, Pero barely lets you do anything always insisting on doing anything and everything for you

Him leaving little kisses along your legs as he massages the swollen and sore muscles while praising you

You occasionally wake up or turn around and find your favorite tea and latest snack craving along with a flower because he loves the reminder the beginning of your relationship

And if you ever get mad at Pero because of hormones saying things like, its his fault you look like this or about how you never wanted to see him again because he accidentally made a joke about one of your cravings, and he just does everything in his power to make you happy again, to get your forgiveness

[mysticmeadowscamp]

STOOOP YOUR MAKING ME SOFFFFFT

M SORRY IM SOFT TOO

[yournameyn]

Ever wondered what it’s like to be the little frozen chocolate that’s tucked in tightly by layers of pastry in a cosy toasty warm place that you’re completely protected from? Ever wonder what it’s like to just melt happily & ooze love?

Honestly I didn’t wonder that ever but that’s what @holdinbacksecrets writing makes me feel like. Comforted and melting. Like I’m the chocolate at the centre of a fluffy warm croissant. Also whenever she replies on her blog she replies in *tiny* & that just makes her a studio ghibli character in my head.

don't sleep; fill the night with dreams

jungkook misses performing p.s. purple haired jungkook pre haircut

have you ever woken up in the middle of the night to a sense of confusion, wondering why your deep sleep had to be interrupted?

have you ever felt the space beside you, recalling the person who was there when your eyes shut and consciousness slipped away? but now he’s not there, and for a moment, you find yourself wondering if he ever was. if some things are just too good to be true

but light is seeping into your bedroom. you can see it passing through the bottom of the door, where the wood hovers above the hardwood flooring, and you pick up your phone to check the time:

3:39am.

you find yourself feeling uneasy, unsettled, concerned. it’s not typical for jungkook to be the one awake at such a time, and it’s that fact that has you getting up, pushing the sheets back. quickly rubbing your eyes before crossing the dark space, and blinking as the light meets your face.

and he's not hard to find. jungkook is perched in the armchair positioned perfectly in front of the bay window. it’s your favorite place to drink your morning tea, and read a novel begging for your attention. recently, your choice has been the one you kept brushing your fingertips across at the bookstore for months on end. the one jungkook kindly urged you to buy, offered to buy it himself, but you always turned him down. and then one morning, as you walked into the living room with your cup of tea, you discovered the book waiting for you, resting prettily, all inviting, on the armchair in front of the bay window: where you watch the world move, turn, and lives being lived.

you call his name, not wanting to surprise him, and it’s relieving when jungkook turns around to look at you. his eyes sparkle, holding galaxies like they always do, even now, even when he’s surely exhausted. his purple hair brushing flushed cheeks.

he reaches out for you. a tattooed hand and fingers dancing through the air in a search for yours, welcoming you into the space on his lap. his palm warms your bare thigh as your cheek rests against his chest. an exhale empties your lungs as the feeling of comfort greets you in jungkook’s restored presence.

“are you ok?”

he answers with a kiss pressed against your skin, just at your hairline, and then one more before a quiet hum. he can smell your shampoo. the aroma reminds him of spring.

“i’m sorry if i woke you up.” there’s tired, so clearly, dripping from his voice.

“it’s ok. i guess i sensed your absence.”

something is wrong, but you don’t push him. you hope being here is ok: your presence is welcomed, that he didn’t leave the bed to escape your hold on him.

it’s as if he can hear your thoughts, suddenly squeezing you tight. his thumb tracing shapes against the back of your hand. an i love you falling from his mouth, and it’s a sound you want to hear forever. it’s an all-consuming feeling that washes over you. one you hope to never chase through remembered memories you can only cherish, holding on to them for dear life because they’re all you have left of him. of you. the love that wrapped you up together.

“i miss performing. i miss the energy, army, the high. but i find myself wondering if that’s fair to do when i’m so blessed. i should be happy to have known those feelings and experiences at all, right? but here i am craving them, wanting more, praying for the feeling again.

“i used to come home after a show, and stay awake for hours laying beside you as i held on to the feeling: reimagining the fireworks, before i fell asleep.”

impassioned love replaces jungkook’s dripping tired, and it’s sweet, endearing, yet painful, yearning, wanting.

“performing is what you love to do. you extend your heart to open palms. you leave pieces of yourself on the stage, but never return feeling empty. why wouldn’t you want that back?”

jungkook’s breathing strays from its usual evenness: the state that brings you comfort— coaxes you back to the equilibrium that is sometimes hard to rest in. now you know why you woke. you felt uneasy, pulled to him in the other room, with a wandering mind. a mind yearning for the hope of it all. an all he doesn’t want to forget and strives to remember. closes his eyes to recreate the feeling. sits in front of the window that gives him a piece of the world, and a sky just like the one he used to watch as the show’s fireworks solidified his dreams colliding with reality: more.

you don’t want that for him either: just remembering, and you wish your wanting was enough.

you wish for the fans all around the world. you dream of the resounding cheers and the opening beats of their favorite songs up close, wanting dreaming to be enough to make it happen. because then the stars would shine in your eyes too. you’d get to say i’m so proud of you. you’d see him shine, and god, what a joy. but oh, he shines right now. can he feel it? he must feel it dripping, pouring, illuminating your living room.

“i have everything i need right here. i keep repeating those words to myself, but here i am awake trying to make a crowd appear out of the stars in another night sky.”

jungkook brings your hand to his mouth. lips flutter against your skin. you melt against his body, wondering what it means to feel everything, to feel more, from him alone.

“we have recorded concerts. should we watch one?” i’m sorry this is all i have to offer you. i’m sorry it won’t be enough.

jungkook breathes deeply, and you lift your head to meet his gaze. his lip twitches, eyes glistening. his nods follow shortly after.

his vulnerability is palpable. jungkook’s missing is excruciating, so you kiss his mouth. your fingertips fan across his cheek, and then you set up the concert.

“i’d say it’s time to see some purple stars again, chase a bit of euphoria.”

when he smiles down at you, admiring how cute you look in front of the tv with his t shirt on, wearing the horrid, plaid pajama pants you bought on sale, your shoulders relax. but you still find yourself repeating those hopeful words in your head, wanting nothing more than the real thing: your own palm open. your own heart souring. your love shining, finding his light, and leaving a new star behind to look back on together when the spinning world slows down, and the streets outside your window empty.

a sleepless, yearning night bringing you to admire another moonlit sky together and paint your dreams into its canvas.

[pseudofaux]

pseu slings fics fo[u]rth

Hot damn, hot stuffs, we did it! FIFTY requests for my 1,000 followers celebration. That is... too many numbers to be throwing around on a free Friday night. This masterlist links to all of the individual requests, and I will add a link to this post to my main masterlist. Non-worksafe pieces are starred (✬), my favorites are marked with a heart (♡). Thank you so much to everyone who requested, especially for your patience as it took me a month+ longer than I said it would to finish these up. I appreciate everyone who reads my stuff and every like and reblog (especially with tags! I read them all!) make me 🥰. Many mercis! I plan to open these up again in March.

♡ [SLBP] Ieyasu wooing MC (...“wooing”)

✬ [IkéVamp] SG, Arthur, Mitsuhide relationship HCs

[SLBP] “Ethereal Frick” Kenshin

[SLBP] Jealous Saizo

[MLQC] Gavin (MC “confesses in a cute way”)

✬ ♡ [MLQC] Lucien

[SLBP] Shigezane/MC have been trying to get pregnant (Modern AU)

✬ ♡ [SLBP] Jealous Masanari

✬ [SLBP] Yukimura/MC/Nobuyuki

✬ [SLBP] Masanori, Kanetsugu, and Yoshichi HCs

40 more under the cut!

[MLQC] Sweet Gavin

✬ [SLBP] Hideyoshi realizing it’s lust and love HCs

♡ [Hakuouki] Shiranui Kyo fluff (?!)

[SLBP] Izumo no Okuni

✬ [SLBP] Jinpachi and Kageie HCs

[SLBP] Toramatsu’s eyes

[IkéRev] Black Army HCs: MC with a new job

[IkéVamp] Shakespeare (songfic: Señorita)

♡ [SLBP] Kansuke

[SLBP] Kotaro (soft)

✬ ♡ [IkéRev] Ray/Alice/Sirius

[SLBP] Shingen and Kenshin HCs: Nudist MC

✬ ♡ [Hakuouki] Souji

✬ [IkéRev] Ray HCs

[SLBP] Mitsuhide soffffft

♡ [Hakuouki] Jealous Kazama :D

[SLBP, The Arcana, IkéRev] HCs: Saw their SO looking at someone else’s ass

✬ [SLBP] Masanori blindfolded (continuation of Anything)

♡ [The Arcana] Best Girl Faust POV

[IkéRev] Black Army HCs: “Unintentionally sexy” MC

[SLBP] Ieyasu’s MC/Masanari

✬ [MLQC] Gavin being... teased

♡ [SLBP] Kiyohiro

✬ ♡ [IkéVamp] Napoleon and MC stargazing

✬ [IkéRev] More Ray HCs

✬ [SLBP] Kenshin

♡ [IkéRev] Zero

[MLQC] My idea of Victor Celebrating

✬ [SLBP] Nobuyuki

✬ [SLBP] Toshihisa

✬ [SLBP] Saizo (Continuation of Okaeri Nasai)

♡ [IkéVamp] Soft, sweet Leonardo

✬ [IkéRev] Zero HCs

[SLBP] Yoshitsugu HCs (SFW + modern)

♡ [SLBP] Shingen/Tsuki angst-then-fluff

[IkéRev] Zero

[IkéRev] Black Army with an MC with “a strong personality”

[MLQC] Gavin + Pregnancy

[IkéRev] Black and Red armies with an independent MC

[SLBP] Ninja fluff-with-a-soupçon-of-spice HCs

[breanime]

I can’t stop going back and reading the Bre’s boys headcannon about their daughters, those babies are beautiful and would be their dads whole worlds, spoiled and babied, always hanging on their arms.

Ugh, it makes me so soffffft!

[harryfeatgaga]

okay these anons are making me soffffft. to add to the girlfriend concept, its like youre harrys foundation, the solid foundation he builds his life on, and so he goes and networks at more ridiculous industry parties than he ever did before, because the superficiality doesnt make him depressed anymore, because he has you to come home to, like having you as his partner makes him feel even more brave and unfazed by being in such a crazy industry because of the life youve built away from it all

I AM.......SO SOFT WOW  PLEASEEEEE 🥺

[captain-sodapop]

Headcanons of Pony helping out Johnny with school?

oh this is so soffffft

okay so we know that Johnny has been held back a time or two, which is obviously okay, it happens, but he’s kinda embarrassed about it

school has always been sorta tough for him not because he isn’t smart, but because his house isn’t exactly a great environment for doing schoolwork, and he just learns at a different rate, and schools aren’t always very accommodating of that

Ponyboy is really encouraging of him, though, considering how important school is to him and how much he really loves to learn, and Johnny’s his best friend and he really wants him to do well and feel better about his intelligence, so he offers to help him out with his schoolwork

at first, Johnny’s a little embarrassed by this - Pony’s younger than him and he feels he should be helping him out.  Johnny tries not to let on, but Pony can tell, and Johnny gets this sense he’s letting his friend down (he’s not), so he agrees to let him help out

they sit around doing their homework together at the kitchen table at the Curtis’s, and after a while Johnny starts to feel more comfortable asking for help, and Ponyboy is a pretty good teacher - especially on things like English, Johnny’s grades start to go up

HOWEVER: Pony is...not great at math.  so whenever Johnny has a problem with math, Pony’s like “Darry can you come help Johnny plz :)”

Darry basically becomes a second tutor

if Ponyboy is the very eager peer tutor, Darry is the teacher with thirty years of experience who talks shit in the teachers lounge

Ponyboy likes to make flashcards, so he teaches Johnny his flashcard system

he’s also like...”Johnny we g o t t a get you some color-coded pens.  you need to have a color coding system!!”

Johnny’s like...”please just help me get a B in English”

Pony unashamedly gives Johnny a hug in the middle of the hallway when he gets an A on his test :’)

[lustyargonianmaid]

Alright, so you know how people are out here having baby fever? Well I've been having and I absolutely don't want kids. It is also only with characters from RDR2. I want to have Javier's, Charles', Arthur's, John's, and Dutch's babies. Pop those suckers out. ANywAy, I'm just over the moon over the fact of someone asking the men to put a baby in them and their reactions. Also, the sex would be mind blowing

i have read some of that soffffft content and it makes me wanna cry every time. i also don’t want kids like……….at all. so i usually don’t seek out fics with pregnant S/O’s etc, but the few i’ve read are so …….cute. i hate it.

also i think just getting a fat nut and not fearing having a child? can’t relate? i don’t know if i’ll ever experience that glorious feeling? this is dirty but i used to have so many cream pie fantasies and im like HUH A GIRL CAN DREAM. honestly though i love that fantasieeeeeeeee

[irish-urn]

I have a big soft spot for Mexican food on a date, especially a first date, but the lighting of the restaurant too 😭😭😭🥰

Classic Derek, flirting with her by calling her anal retentive omg.

“The things you’ll do for a pretty face,” she teases.

“Okay, look, there are pretty faces and then there’s Marti, and those are two very different categories. Don’t make it weird.”

I just-

“Together or…”

“Separate,” they say together.

Oof. My heart.

The whole bit about going to Greg's and Derek being taken back by an easily pleased Casey makes me soffffft. I hope it makes him think about how things could have gone if he was just a bit kinder to her in high school.

CASEY POINTING OUT THE FACT THAT HES NOT GETTING LAID. CASEY, BABY. HON. I love the idea of them having an unspoken no talking about sex rule.

“What, you’ll make me a priority?” And he sounds a little sarcastic, a little annoyed. - and OH, how could I have forgotten about this part??? I still haven't let you off the hook for the priority bit in NWF and YES, I want to talk about that more.

So, haha, while I was writing this? My dad and I were on a Mexican fix, where we were eating it at least once a week. So, uh. I was hungry at the time of writing this scene. But give them good lighting to make it a little more date-like. ;)

Look, he had to insist for separate cheques, because otherwise it would have been a thing, and this is the first step on a long path.

So many things could have been different if he had been kinder, but I don't think Derek was ready for that. Being kind requires you to be vulnerable, and we've already spoken at length as to why that's a whole thing, so...

YEAH, CASEY WHAT'S UP WITH BRINGING UP SEX??? Sheesh, girl. Hush your mouth. Derek is sitting there like, 'She's either much more tired than I thought and isn't thinking; or she's attracted to me too. Better play it cool just in case. But yeah, no need to bring up my lack of a sex life; I'm working on it, princess!!'

Hey, you wanna talk about the priority thing?? *chin on hands* Let's talk about priorities.

[just-here-for-the-moment]

Oooooooohhh boy... Cat... you have UNDONE me with this chapter. I know I already screamed at you on DMs but I have to tell EVEYRONE!!! Holy shit. Putting my full response under the cut so that there are no spoilers.

If you're new to the "Tied" series by @radiowallet, please just go read all of it now.

Okay, first of all the ANGST? I felt everything... and then this?? WHOA...

The room is silent, but for the cacophony of your anger and his regret crashing into each other is thunderous.

And then I loved and adored the way that you showed us his side of things. We already know hers, and you did a masterful job of "show, don't tell" when you showed us that he finally (FINALLY) got awkward about something. You showed us a crack in his armor when he is so stunned at how his gesture was interpreted, that he can't speak for once? That is amazing.

And THEN!!!

Din kisses you slowly, lips soothing away each angry word, both hands cupping your jaw tenderly. Your own hands fall to his sides, pulling him into you, your back bumping up against the office door.

Ohhhh so soffffft... And THEN! He keeps apologizing. Which is why I say you did an excellent job of the "show, don't tell" thing.

Because you could very well have written a whole expository dialogue for him where he explains his thought process behind the gesture, and how wrecked he is that she interpreted it differently, but you DIDN'T because you SHOWED it to us...

The kisses remains sluggish, almost sweet, as he pops the button free on your jeans and pulls down the zipper, taking his time to make soft little passes where your underwear meets skin.

Reverently, he drops to his knees, pulling your jeans and panties down, sliding them and your shoes off with care. Another press of kisses, this time to the tender skin of your thighs, each one a prayer whispered to your body. Din takes his time, each caress of fingers, lips, tongue is made with care and intent, and before he’s even touched your aching core, you feel your legs trembling beneath you.

“I’m so sorry,” he offers again, the retribution repeated one more time as he pushes deep inside you, forehead pressing down into your temple.

Plus, it was just fucking HOT 🥵🥵🥵

Hi Cat! Congarts on 500 followers!!! 🎊💖

First things first: I am going to recommend ‘tracing the route’ by @clan-djarin It is one of my favorite Javi one-shots to date. The ✨pining✨ is strong with this one and it is magnificent. It has quickly become a go-to fic for when I want to feel all warm and cozy inside 💕

And second: Dr. Din and First have my heart—what do they do when they have a rare day off together?

Nonnie! Thank you so much! Both for the fic rec and for the prompt!

You're not wrong, a day off together for Dr. Djarin and First is rare. Once Grogu comes along they get a little better at taking time away from work, but that’s for later. I thought it would be fun to look at a day off early in their relationship.

Summary: First and Dr. Djarin have a rare day off.  Takes place sometime after the events of The Office.

Pairing: Dr. Din Djarin x F!Reader (First Assist)

WC: 2.3K

Warnings: Explicit 18+, cursing, unprotected p in v sex, arguing, hurt feelings and comfort. 

Dipping back in to say that we support and stan sex-workers in this house.  Period. 

Notes: Big huge endless thanks to @disgruntledspacedad for this idea. There was definitely a discussion in a discord server where this idea was born, and I had to do something with it.  Please, everyone, go shower her with love. I will maintain until my last breath that these things I push into the world wouldn’t even exist without her support and musings and encouragement.

F: I cannot believe you picked up an extra shift on my first day off in weeks.

Cobb: It’s not my fault your boss is a workaholic, schedule stacker. Guess you’ll just have to find some other way to keep yourself entertained.

F: Whatever. Drinks later at least?

Cobb: See you at 8.

You sigh, closing the text thread with Cobb, and consider the remainder of your free day. 

Your apartment was spotless, a small silver lining of hardly being in it over the past couple of weeks, and you had already gotten a run in early this morning, your body stuck in the weird time loop of the hospital, refusing to give you the small luxury of sleeping in. The day was wide open and you had no idea where to start. You open a new text thread and let your finger hover over Din’s contact briefly. You know on his days off from surgery he works at the office, seeing his outpatients, pre-op visits, catching up on his chart documentation, but today is a Saturday. A rare weekend free from call for him, and by extension you. You wonder what he does outside the hospital walls. Did the man have hobbies? A favorite television show? Books he likes to read? Would he be at all interested in whiling away the day with you?

“Get a hold of yourself,” you chide, closing the app and tossing your phone aside.  You were hardly a couple, sex a handful of times barely a qualifier for anything more than friend with benefits, and even that seemed like a stretch. The man was technically your boss. You push any thoughts of seeing Dr. Djarin today aside and pull your laptop towards you where it’s resting on your kitchen table. May as well finish the only real chore left on your to-do list and pay your bills. You log into your banking site to double check your statement and promptly do a double take.  

“What the hell?”

F: We need to talk.

F: Why aren’t you answering?

F: Where are you?

D: Office.

“What the hell is this?” You demand the second you enter Din’s office, holding up your phone with the latest statement from your bank on full display. He glances up from the EKG results spread across his desk, paying little attention to the flurry of rage you brought in with you.

“A picture of your private banking information.”

You clench your teeth, feeling them grind down on your anger, a furious heat creeping up the column of your neck.  “Don’t do that. You know what I mean.”

He starts collecting the loose papers, bringing them together in a neat pile, tap tap tapping them against the smooth top of his desk, not looking up as he gives you another clipped answer. “It’s your paycheck.”

“No, it’s double my paycheck.”

“I paid you the appropriate amount for the work you’ve done. Assisting and scribing. The amount is fair, but if you want to negotiate for more, I’m willing to listen.”

You could pull your hair out. In this very moment that is literally the only emotion you can feel. Frustration pours off of you in buckets, spilling needlessly like blood across a pristine OR floor, an unfathomable mess you could never hope up to clean up, and Din is meeting each angry come back with a measured neutrality You have no idea how anyone in their right mind could stand to be in his presence any longer than absolutely necessary. He gives in drips and drags, never offering more then he deems necessary, and you’re annoyed at yourself that this is the man you have let yourself become entangled in.

“Scribing? I haven’t been scribing for you.”

“You have,” he answers, the matter-of-fact tone solid as he slides the stack of papers into a manila folder and stands, making his way to the filing cabinet at the corner of the office. Your brow furrows, going over the past two weeks in your head carefully. Din didn’t hire scribes. The idea of someone following him around, charting for him was probably his worst nightmare, and he was far too much of a control freak to even tolerate the idea let alone execute it. Did he mean fixing his chart corrections? That was barely a morning’s worth of work. Had he finally snapped?

“I’m not keeping it. I’m writing you a check today.”

“I won’t cash it,” he answers from where his back is turned to you, carefully filing away the folder in his hands. You don’t need to seem him to picture it, thick fingers sifting through the contents of the drawer, keen eyes searching for the exact spot the folder belongs.

Without warning you feel tears prick at the corner of your eyes, your cheeks impossibly hot, and you fight the urge to stomp your foot in embarrassment. Didn’t he understand what this money implied? What it said about the weird warped nature of your relationship? Was that his intent? This money pinned you down, painted you in shades of red, staining you, marring your clean edges and bruising your cherished ego. Is that how he truly saw you? Your vision is bleeding black red and bile is rising up your throat, furious resentment swirling dangerously in your stomach. This entire thing had been a mistake, one after the other, and you curse yourself because the only thing you can think in this moment is you’ll never get to feel his lips on your again. The very thought pushes the bile higher and you know you have to get out of his presence. Stat.

“I’m not your whore, Dr. Djarin,” you fire off, letting his title fall out of your mouth like acid, before turning to leave, making as swift an escape towards his office door as you can, angry tears already spilling over. Your hand is just reaching for the doorknob when those same thick fingers wrap around the meat of your upper arm, pulling you back around to face him. You meet Din’s gaze head on, refusing to be embarrassed at the state his callousness has pushed you to. His brow is pinched, amber eyes glossed over, plush lips open, words waiting on the tip of his tongue.  You raise one eyebrow, mentally giving him another 10 seconds before you pull your arm free and leave.

“Is that what you think?”

“You tell me?” You fire back, refusing to wipe at the tears sliding down your cheeks. You jut out your chin, defiant and proud, letting him look at the havoc he has wrought. He winces at your tone, his eyes tilting down to look at the floor, shame sitting heavy on the breadth of his shoulders. The room is silent, but for the cacophony of your anger and his regret crashing into each other is thunderous. They tangle together, wrapping up and screaming out their combined anguish before falling away, leaving the two of you stilted, trapped.

“No, First- I,” his words stutter to a halt, and the pinch between his eyes grows deeper. “I’m not good at saying-” he stops short, and looks back up at you, and his eyes almost look pleading. “Well, anything, really,” he finishes, and it’s probably the most honest thing he’s ever said to you. “That money was for the work you’ve been doing. Everything else, that’s…you and I-“ He’s struggling, the words clumsy in his mouth, and your resolve crumbles fully at the sight of cool, composed Dr. Djarin fumbling blindly in the dark.

You reach up and cup his cheek, thumb brushing against the stubble peppering his cheek.

“I’m sorry,” he offers, his free hand reaching up to mirror your own, cupping your cheek, the pad of his thumb wiping at the tears sitting sticky against the hot flush of your skin. You know it’s as close to a resolution as you’re going to get today. The confusion surrounding the definition of you and Din is tangled and messy, and it’s clear he doesn’t have the answers either, but there is no ill intent in his approach. He holds you gently, fingers making soothing patters against your arm, coffee brown eyes searching your own. He leans in closer, eyes holding onto yours, asking a silent permission. You give a slight nod, not trusting your voice anymore. You blink slowly as his lips meet yours and you melt, sighing into the newly familiar sensation. Din kisses you slowly, lips soothing away each angry word, both hands cupping your jaw tenderly. Your own hands fall to his sides, pulling him into you, your back bumping up against the office door.

When he pulls away from the chaste kiss, the elegant curve of his nose nudges softly against your own, more tender then you expected, but never once unwelcome.

“Do you have anywhere to be?”

You shake your head no, your cheeks warming over for an entirely new reason. His hands are already trailing down your body, one finding purchase against your chest, cupping the swell of your breast, the other toying with the button on your jeans.

“Good,” he murmurs, lips dipping back down to your own, tongue licking slowly at the seam of your lips, and you open slowly, letting his breath fill your mouth. The kisses remains sluggish, almost sweet, as he pops the button free on your jeans and pulls down the zipper, taking his time to make soft little passes where your underwear meets skin. When he pulls away from your mouth, it feels reluctant, an almost whine leaving him as he frees you from your t-shirt and bra, allowing him to map the planes of your bare skin with large calloused hands. His lips quickly find your own again, pressing kiss after kiss to your lips, and it feels like a promise, the words lost but the actions clear.

Reverently, he drops to his knees, pulling your jeans and panties down, sliding them and your shoes off with care. Another press of kisses, this time to the tender skin of your thighs, each one a prayer whispered to your body. Din takes his time, each caress of fingers, lips, tongue is made with care and intent, and before he’s even touched your aching core, you feel your legs trembling beneath you. Somehow, you aren’t sure how, you’re on the floor with him, beneath him, and his clothes are gone too. His tongue licks between your folds, the urgency he saves for this position gone, replaced with deep sluggish sweeps against your clit, your orgasm building leaden and dreamy, your body boneless against the hardwood planks of Din Djarin’s office floor. It washes over you evenly, his tongue coaxing you through it with a simple grace, humming softly against your swollen clit, the bundle of nerves sitting pretty beneath his lips.

Those same lips kiss a trail up the length of your body, effervescent mist drifting all around, each one clinging to your skin, a temporary tattoo of this one single moment. You feel the tip of his cock, thick and heavy, teasing against your entrance as his mouth makes contact with your chin, a gentle nip of teeth to keep you present, the press of his body solid above your own. He kisses you again, measured and sure, tongue sweeping deep and heavy through the cavern between your lips, before peppering a trail up to your ear, his breath hot against your already sweat slicked skin.

“I’m so sorry,” he offers again, the retribution repeated one more time as he pushes deep inside you, forehead pressing down into your temple. He stretches you wide, breaking you open, legs spread as he buries himself between the wet heat of your folds. His hands find yours, fingers tangling above your head as he presses his hips flush with your own. Your body tenses, rigid and tight, and you silently coax yourself to breathe as the length and width of Din split you clean through. Through it all, you can hear him whispering to you sweetly, adorations falling down around you like a soft summer rain.

“Sweet girl, too good for me. So good. So good- I’m so sorry.”

As the pain fades to that delicious burn of pleasure a whine breaks free from your lips. You hook your ankles around his thighs, pulling him closer, urging him, begging him to move. You can feel him nod, lips find yours again, swallowing your moan of pleasure as he pulls the entire length of his cock out before pushing it back between the weeping lips of your cunt. His pace is as tender as the kisses pressed into your lips, soft, syrupy sweet, carrying you both slowly towards release. Your hips cant easily, rising to meet each thrust of his hips, mewls and groans mixing around you, erasing any and all of the broken emotions from earlier. Din’s grip on your hands keeps true, lips refusing to stray far from your own. His pace quickens, just barely, and you feel your walls begin to tighten.

“Din-Din, please,” you feel yourself begging, the words barely leaving your mouth before they pass into his own.

“I know,” he answers back, keeping his pace, fucking into you deep, pulling you closer and closer to the edge. It happens all at once, the wave of your orgasm washing over you, Din’s name falling from your lips in a broken plea.  He helps you through it, sloppy kisses pressed to the tender skin of your throat, as he thrusts deeper, deeper, deeper, groaning out his own release, thick and white, filling your insides. He doesn’t move away from you right away, the weight of him a heavy reverence a top your naked skin, your hands still fused together, a cherished sort of halo above your head.

Later, the two of you will joke, wry and acidic, about what you’ll do with all the extra money. Din will dryly remark how a new pair sneakers would do you good; your stand time longer since you’ve started helping him close, and how it’s important you take care of your feet. You’ll challenge him right back, teasing out the idea of a night alone out on the town, a low cut dress and a drink at an uptown bar. He’ll grimace, look away, and mutter something about “working on it,” as he hands you your shirt and reminds you of the busy surgical schedule looming in your future.

For now you’re content to lie here, skin cooling, sweat drying, tears gone and with them, the very last of your anger, slipping away with the press of plush lips and a final whisper of regret.

Notes: I think I have three  more Dr. Djarin requests from my 500 follower celebration, and there’s a huge piece I’ve been slowly working on that I hope to finish eventually.  As always, thank you so much to everyone who reads. Your continued support means more to me then you will ever know.

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When you get this, please respond with five things that make you happy! Then send to the last ten people in your notifications anonymously or not. You never know who might benefit from spreading positivity 💕

AAAA SO MUCH WHOLESOMENESS I LOV IT1. I just came home from and orienteering competition, and well, I love orienteering, and I had so much fun + met a friend I haven’t seen in a while!! ee so that made me happy2. My bed it’s so warm and cosy and the sheets are so soffffft3. I love the place I live! Being able to just walk outside, and in two minutes be on top of a peaceful cliff, perfect for picnics and for just sitting, and listening to wind and looking out at the lake, is so amazing and makes me feel good4. I get really happy reflectinh on how far I’ve come in life, or more like, what I’ve realised and learned and grown from so far - I am proud of myself for many things, though I also am not proud of many things, but that’s okay. I am here, and I am living, and doing what I can, and that makes me happy. Really.5. The sun!!! The weather!!! The light!!! The winter has been long and cold and harsh, and just being able to go outside in a tshirt, and have the window open in the evening, is amazingtysm for this!!! it good

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