#they help each other and comfort each other and know each other
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hiddenavenues · 2 days ago
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hii !
i saw ur post about fluffy Logan oneshots so i have one :D if this is not what ur looking for, pls feel free to ignore !!
maybe touch starved reader who constantly clings to Logan and he asks about it and reader gets nervous that they pushed a boundary and stop only for Logan to be like “wtf no i love when u cling to me, pls keep doing it”
no pressure at all, have a nice evening / morning !!
A Soft Place to Land
a/n: Hi Anon! Thank you for your request. I am so sorry this has taken so long, life went kind of crazy for a second, but it's sorting itself out now! I hope you enjoy the drabble <3
Logan Howlett x TouchStarved!GN!Reader
CW: some mentions of jealousy, reader seems pretty anxious, just some good ole' fluff
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Watching how Scott and Jean held each other, or even how the kids would comfort one another, you could feel jealousy curling around your mind at the absentminded tenderness in every touch. You’d spend countless nights awake, craving the touch of another while you wrapped your arms around yourself, fingers pressing into your skin just to feel something.
It gnawed at you, quiet and constant, slipping into the quiet spaces of your mind when you were alone. You’d close your eyes and imagine what it might feel like to rest your head on someone’s shoulder, to let the warmth of another’s touch seep into your skin and quiet the restlessness within you. It was always fleeting, a memory of something you've only had in fleeting moments.
Then there was Logan. The brooding, gruff exterior everyone seemed to shy away from became your refuge. It started as fleeting touches, knuckles grazing against his when you walked, shoulders bumping when you sat together. Before you knew it, you found yourself constantly lingering in his presence, your touch becoming more purposeful. Tracing shapes into the palm of his hand during long meetings or leaning on his shoulder after a mission, his head resting on top of yours. It was rare for you to be seen far apart, the school knew you were bound to be nearby if Logan was around.
You’re not sure when it started, the constant burn beneath your skin only satisfied by his touch. You started finding ways to get him to touch you, asking for help with your hair or applying bandaids. Now, you stood before Logan with a bracelet in hand, feigning an excuse of needing help to put it on. You didn’t miss the way Logan notched a brow at your request, eyeing the bracelet he knows you’ve put on yourself countless times. You fiddled with the jewelry in your palm, gaze nervously darting around his face as a familiar pit forms in your stomach at his hesitation. A heartbeat later, Logan opens the door wide for you to enter, knuckles grazing as you pass him. 
Logan’s fingers daftly inspect the jewelry before draping it over your wrist, each graze of his fingers deepening the blush on your cheeks. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears and from the smirk on Logan’s face, you had a feeling he could hear how it quickened. 
“Why you always around me, bub?” Logan asks nonchalantly as he clasps the bracelet, fingers still ghosting over your arm. 
You swallow, feeling the words catch in your throat as you search for a response. You hadn’t considered Logan noticing, much less him asking you outright. The question hangs in the air as his eyes search your face, something curious and unguarded in them. You struggle to find a response that doesn’t make you sound desperate and scare him off.
“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to,” You murmur, taking your arm away from his touch, clutching it to your chest as if to slow your racing heart. You look away, face burning beneath the weight of his gaze. “I’ll stop. Must be kinda creepy, constantly hovering around you.” You force a weak laugh.
A beat passes, the crushing silence presses against your chest, wrapping around you until each breath feels like a struggle. When you gather the courage to meet his eyes again, his expression has softened, the usual guarded look slipping. He shifts closer, bringing his face level with yours, and the intensity in his gaze holds you captive. 
“Don’t do that,” Logan’s breath fans your face with each word, mouth inches from yours. “Ain’t nobody said I didn’t like it.” His words are rough, each one lifting a weight from your chest. His eyes dart away to study the floor as his cheeks flush a deep crimson. “Ain’t used to people hanging around this much but… I don’t mind so much with you.” 
A pause before he shrugs as if trying to shake off the weight of his words. “Guess you don’t bother me as much as most folks do.” Logan straightens but doesn’t step back. His face remained aloof, but his cheeks were still rosy as vulnerability oozed from his gaze. “So quit worrying about ‘creeping me out.’ You’re good.” 
Logan’s kind words curled around your heart, a smile gracing your lips as you look at him. “So what I’m hearing is you're saying I can bug you even more now?” You joke, nudging his shoulder. 
He scoffs, dramatically rolling his eyes. “I wouldn’t push it, bub.”
---
Likes and reblogs are appreciated :)
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uraveragelonelysapphic · 2 days ago
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Gentle Love
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Pairing: Rio Vidal x Fem!Reader
Summary: She may be Lady Death, but to you, she is your sweet love.
Word Count: 1.2k
Warnings: mentions of depression, panic attacks, just a lot of hurt/comfort
a/n: surprise! another fic! i know a lot of people have been wanting just rio fics, so here you go! a little hurt/comfort! the goal was to make a mental health fic where it isn't romanticized, so here's hoping i did that! enjoy!!!
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Your relationship with Lady Death wasn’t one that had a spontaneous start. She didn’t save you from a painful demise, or help you realize life was worth living.
She had met you on her day off. (Yes, Lady Death gets days off. She’s not the only one working the underworld, you know.) She was wandering through a wooded area when she came across you. You were sitting under a willow tree, humming to yourself as you wove a crown of daisies.
Her heart had practically melted at the sight of you, and she found herself gravitating towards you. Before she knew it, she was introducing herself to you and you were inviting her to join you beneath the willow.
The two of you were pretty much inseparable after that. You spent countless days getting to know every part of each other; mind, body, and soul. Soon enough, you were deeply in love with Rio Vidal: Lady Death. And she could say the same about you.
You both had grown exponentially by being in each other’s presence. But a romantic relationship doesn’t mean the absence of all problems.
Rio struggled deeply with guilt. She hated that she had been bound to this calling, that she had been chosen to wear a face she found hideous and escort living creatures to a world beyond life. It pained her to take children from their mothers, sisters from their brothers, soulmates from their lovers. 
But you were so soft with her. Soft as you kissed her in her Death form, soft as you held her while she shook with guilt and self-hatred, soft as you assured her that she was doing the right thing. That you loved her always.
As for you, mental illness was something you had dealt with from a young age. After all, being a witch who was chased from countless villages and hunted endlessly, all for possessing a magical ability she never asked for…well, it tends to have some lasting negative effects on one’s mental well being.
You were proud to say you knew how to handle it, but you had your weak moments. Moments like now. And you hated them.
As you woke up, you felt a familiar heaviness in your bones. Your heart felt heavy but was racing all the same, your head ached, and your stomach churned with dread and anxiety.
You turned to the other side of the bed, reaching for your comfort, your person, only to find it empty. Your eyes filled with tears as you took a deep breath. 
You wondered if you should call her. You hated that the thought even crossed your mind. You could handle this alone.
“But you don’t have to,” your lover’s words echoed through your mind as you pondered what to do.
You and Rio had created a system for times like this. If ever you were feeling like the walls were closing in, like you couldn’t breathe, like you could barely function. All you had to do was think of a color and a name. Her name.
Yellow meant you were struggling, but could handle it alone if need be. Red meant you needed her.
You rarely tended to use red. You loved Rio, and you knew full well that her presence helped to calm you in times of discomfort and anxiety, but you couldn’t pull yourself out of your need to be independent and not rely on anyone for help. You hated admitting the need for help.
Even now, as you laid in bed, tears streaming down your face as you struggled to breathe, you refused to admit defeat. But you knew you owed it to both her and yourself to say something.
Yellow. Rio. Yellow, you thought as you brought your hands to your face, willing your breathing to calm down.
It was no use. All you could think of was how useless you were, how helpless, worthless, weak.
You choked out a sob as the room seemed to get smaller and smaller.
Until you felt gentle hands on your wrists, tenderly pulling them from your face.
“Hey there, sweet girl. Let’s sit you up, yeah?” Rio said softly.
You followed her instructions, allowing the witch to help you to a sitting position.
You met her eyes, expecting to see disappointment and disgust, but instead being met with nothing but love pooling in her brown eyes. 
Her hands moved from your wrists, gently intertwining her hands with yours. 
“There’s my girl. Let’s try and get that breathing to slow down. Wanna get some more air in those beautiful lungs of yours, yeah?” She cooed, her eyes encouraging.
You nodded, and she took one of your hands, placing it on her stomach as she took exaggerated breaths as an example.
You began to copy her, your eyes not leaving hers, feeling safe as you lost yourself in her.
She squeezed your hands softly. “Look at you go. Breathing all by yourself. I’m so proud of you, mi vida,” she whispered as you found yourself finally able to breathe steadily.
You both sat there for a few more minutes, her allowing you the space to feel whatever you may be feeling as you came back to your senses.
You opened your mouth to speak, struggling to find words to express your needs. As if she had read your mind, Rio let go of your hands to reposition herself against the headboard of the bed and opened her arms to you.
You smiled at her in gratitude, moving to sit in between her legs, laying your back against her front as she held you.
You both sat in silence for a few moments, just soaking in each other’s presence; Rio running her fingers through your hair with one hand and softly caressing your leg with the other.
Eventually, she spoke.
“I’m so proud of you.”
You shrugged against her and she shook her head.
“I’m serious, my love. I’m proud of you for calling for me.”
“Feel weak,” you mumbled as you hung your head.
Rio furrowed her brows, turning you to face her. “Quite the contrary, love. You are the bravest person I know. You can handle these things on your own. I know you can. But you knew it wasn’t what was best for you, so you called for me. And I’m so grateful to be in love with such a strong, beautiful girl who knows how to help herself,” she said, her voice full of adoration that brought tears to your eyes.
“I love you, Rio,” you choked out, your hands finding her cheeks, thumbs brushing against the skin softly.
She placed her hands on your waist, allowing you to initiate the kiss.
You brought her face to yours, kissing her with all the love you had. She kissed you back, softly, always softly, pecking your lips softly as you pulled away.
“I love you most, my precious girl,” she said, laughing as you rolled your eyes at her need to turn everything into a competition.
She kissed the tip of your nose, relishing in the way you wrinkled it at the sensation.
“Alright, I prescribe you a glass of water, some chocolate chip pancakes, and cuddles with your hot girlfriend,” she said as she got up, smirking at you.
She beamed in triumph as you giggled. “Well if that’s what the doctor herself ordered, who am I to disagree?” you teased.
“My thoughts exactly. I’ll be right back, my brave girl. I love you,” she said, her eyes softening again.
“I love you, Rio Vidal,” you said with a smile, and she blew you a kiss before exiting your bedroom.
Yes, she was Lady Death, but to you, Rio Vidal would always be your gentle love.
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freshl6ve · 2 days ago
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𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓. 𝐒 | 𝐄𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐒𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐘
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⭑.ᐟ : 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐬𝐚𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐭��𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐨𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐝, a sleepy look on his face as he was exhausted from being Batman all night. I gently grabbed a small rag from under the sink, soaking it in warm water before turning back to Matt.
“C’mere, let me take this stuff off for you,” I softly spoke, carefully approaching Matt.
I placed delicate fingers on his jaw, gently guiding it upward to have him meet my eyes. Matt’s exhausted expression met mine, and I could tell he was ready for this to be over. With my other hand, I reached for the warm rag I had soaked, softly pressing it to his face.
Matt remained still, closing his eyes and letting out a soft sigh as he felt the warm cloth against his skin. I gently began to remove the eye makeup, being as careful and gentle as possible to not irritate his skin or accidentally poke him in the eye.
As I gently scrubbed away at the makeup from his face, Matt softly yawned, leaning into my soft touch. It was clear just how tired he was. Slowly, pieces of the eye makeup began to wash away, leaving just a few traces behind. “Almost done,” I whispered as I continued to carefully remove the remaining parts.
As I walked to the sink, rinsing out the rag, I could feel Matt's eyes on me. I returned and gently started to clean the remaining paint off of his cheeks, softly running my fingers over his skin. Matt’s eyes followed me with a longing and yearning look, admiring my careful and gentle touch.
Matt gazed up at me, studying my features as I concentrated on cleaning his face. He couldn't help but admire my focus and the way my fingers delicately moved, removing the traces of the eye makeup. His eyes softened, filled with admiration as he silently observed my careful care.
I continued to gently wipe away the last remnants of the eye makeup, feeling Matt’s intense gaze upon me. The silence between us was both comforting and intimate, and it was clear he was admiring me with a hint of longing in his eyes.
Matt’s eyelids grew heavy as I continued to clean, sleepiness taking over him. Unintentionally, his head started to tilt forward, starting to fall asleep. I quickly noticed, catching him in time before he could fall, my other hand holding his chin delicately to support him.
“Hey, don’t fall asleep yet. You gotta stay awake for a bit longer,” I whispered softly, gently holding onto his chin to keep him steady, gently caressing his face to help wake him up a bit.
I finally finished cleaning his face, not a trace of eye makeup left behind. I turned to the sink, rinsing the rag and carefully washing away any remaining makeup. After a final rinse, I rung it and folded the rag, placing it on the edge of the sink.
I walked back to Matt, gently cupping his face in my hands, now completely clean. A soft smile played on my lips as I gently spoke; ��that’s enough saving the city for today,” teasing him a bit, knowing he was exhausted from the night.
Matt opened his eyes a small amount and offered a tired but appreciative smile. Softly, I leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on his lips, a warm and comforting gesture amidst his exhaustion.
Matt quickly turned the small peck into a passionate kiss, pulling me onto his lap and wrapping his arms around my back, holding me close. His eyes fluttered shut as he immersed himself in the moment, finding comfort and warmth in my presence amidst his fatigue.
He held me tightly against him as if he never wanted to let go, deepening the kiss with a sense of tenderness and longing. Matt's fingers gently traced my back, finding solace in our embrace. It was a moment of exhaustion-filled intimacy, a connection that went beyond words.
I gently wrapped my arms around his neck, intertwining my fingers in his hair, lightly scratching at his scalp. The kiss grew more intense, each move filled with a mix of tenderness and need, seeking comfort in each other's embrace.
Matt couldn’t help but smile between the kisses, the corners of his lips curling upwards as the passionate exchange continued. Despite his exhaustion, there was a sense of joy and contentment in the moment, a respite from the chaos of the night.
As Matt pulled away from the kiss, he began to trail kisses down my jawline, leaving a gentle trail of affection. His lips moved softly against my skin, his exhaustion mixing with affection, creating a tender moment.
My hand gently tangled in his hair, softly running my fingers through the locks, as he continued to hold me tightly. His grip remained firm, seeking the comfort and familiarity of our embrace, finding a sense of safety within my touch.
I gently whispered against his ear, rubbing his back with my other hand, “let’s get you to bed,” a soft murmur of care and concern. Matt stayed in my embrace, seeming a bit reluctant to move, clearly comfortable in the position, but ultimately nodded slightly
I carefully slipped out of Matt's lap, standing up and gently taking his hand to help him up, guiding him to stand on his feet despite his fatigue. He leaned against me for support, still holding tightly onto my hand as if not wanting to let go.
I gently led him into his room, supporting his weight as we made our way to the bed. Once we reached it, I carefully guided him to sit down, easing him onto the bed with tender care. Matt sunk into the mattress, exhaustion evident in his eyes and in the way he leaned against me for support.
With gentle hands, I assisted Matt in removing his sweater and shirts, carefully pulling the fabric away from his body. With each layer removed, his exhaustion became more apparent, the weariness etched on his face. Once the last shirt was off, he slumped back against the pillows, visibly tired and in need of rest.
As I gently tugged at his baggy pants, I couldn't help but chuckle a bit, trying to make the situation a bit lighter. “Lift your hips up,” I softly instructed, gently helping him adjust his position to remove his pants and replace them with comfortable sweatpants, making sure he'd be comfortable for the night.
After helping Matt settle into comfortable sweatpants for the night, I quickly changed into something comfortable myself, joining him in bed and sliding under the covers. Matt seemed relieved to have me close again, his eyes slowly closing as if preparing for rest. The exhaustion he felt was evident in his weary expression as he clung to my presence, seeking solace and comfort in our proximity.
Matt rested his head on my chest, his arm dangling lazily over my body. As my fingers gently traced patterns on his scalp, he nuzzled his face into my chest, seeking comfort in the simple but tender caress. My other hand gently rubbed his bare back, the soft touch comforting both of us in the stillness, the gentle massage helping soothe his exhaustion.
In the quiet of the room, the steady rhythm of Matt's breaths against my chest gradually slowed, his body succumbing to exhaustion. My fingers traced small circles on his scalp, a gentle and comforting gesture that seemed to ease him into a peaceful slumber. I gently continued to rub his back, the quiet intimacy of the moment only interrupted by the soft sound of his even breaths.
With a tender smile, I kissed the top of his head, gentle and affectionate. “My sleepy boy, get some rest, my love,” I whispered, a soft murmur of care and tenderness, the room filled with a comforting stillness.
Matt lifted his head, meeting my lips with a sleepy peck. “Thank you, baby,” he whispered in response, his voice soft and heavy with exhaustion. The brief kiss was a tender gesture, a quiet expression of appreciation amidst his fatigue.
Matt rested his head on my chest once again, exhaustion evident in his sleepy expression. I continued to gently rub his back, the quiet intimacy of the moment filling the room as he surrendered to the embrace. Sleep slowly claimed him, the rhythms of his breaths becoming deep and steady, a visible sign of his exhaustion finally pulling him into a peaceful slumber.
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A/N: short little soft matt story :-) — Idea by @st6rify <3
TAGS: @st6rify ✮⋆˙ @jetaimevous ✮⋆˙ @certifiedstarrr ✮⋆˙ @slvtf0rchr1s ✮⋆˙ @l3sbiancvnt ✮⋆˙ @wh0remikasas ✮⋆˙ @r0s3luvr ✮⋆˙ @emely9274 ✮⋆˙
── .✦ MASTER—LIST ⭑𓂃
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ailelie · 1 day ago
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The Wolf now is Concerned. He isn't invested. He refuses to be invested in humans. Humans are food, not friends.
And yet. This utter sad sack needs help and Hairy McLumberjack is too busy fussing around with trees to do more than look in and tut occasionally.
And, it isn't like the Wolf can roam much. He had a serious surgery to get Steven out of his stomach. He needs recovery time.
It only makes sense that he recovers at Steve's. It's all Steve's fault anyway, if you think about it.
Steve is still mourning his relationship with Denise and dealing with his recent near-death experience. The latter would be easier if the cause of said-near-death experience hadn't decided to take over Steve's bed.
The Wolf is a demanding and infuriating roommate, but the more time they spend on bickering, the less time Steve has to feel sorry for himself. He ends up developing a new passion for cooking out of pure spite--he will prove to the Wolf that there are many better options for eating than 'raw human.'
"So raw my heart was literally still beating, Wolf."
"The better to warm my stomach, Steve."
It is when Little Red is visiting again, more than a week after the Wolf last felt a twinge of pain in his torso, that everything changes again.
"Mama said to invite you to dinner, Uncle Steve," Little Red says. "You can come, too, Uncle Wolf."
Steve and the Wolf meet each other's horrified gaze as they both realize the domestic comfort they've found and created in each other.
That night, long after Little Red has returned home, the Wolf says he's leaving and he goes.
For the first time in weeks, Steve doesn't have to share his bed.
(After the first few nights when the Wolf had claimed his bed, Steve decided he was not going to be forced to the couch again. They each dared the other to leave the bed if they were 'too uncomfortable' to share. Neither left. Neither ever admitted, in the weeks that followed, how nice it was to have someone else there.)
He can't sleep.
In the morning, he eats some berries for breakfast. Lunch is a leftover soup. Dinner is more of the same.
Cooking is less fun on his own, less fun when he doesn't have the Wolf stealing his ingredients and making sly comments from the side.
Meanwhile, the Wolf is in the forest and utterly refusing to admit that his rabbit is a bit gamey, that its flesh would be better shredded with a spicy sauce and served over whipped potatoes. He is a Wolf. He doesn't need cooked food. He doesn't want it.
The flesh and blood are warm in his mouth, but they do not heat his belly like one of Steve's stews. The forest is so unreasonably cold.
And lonely.
"He tried to eat me, Laura," Steve complains to his sister, Little Red's mother.
"From what I understand, he successfully ate you. That lumberjack cut you free, no?"
"The lumberjack! Now, he would make sense. He's handsome, right? Saved my life even. If I had to-- why couldn't I have--" the words won't come out. Steve's never been attracted to anyone male before.
Until the Wolf.
His face flushes bright red and his sister sighs. "You could do worse than that Wolf, Steve."
He buries his face in his hands.
The Wolf goes by the cabin when he knows Steve will be in town, attending the dinner Little Red had invited them to, the dinner that ruined everything.
The ice box has no ice and the plants inside are limp and shriveled. A stew pot, crusted with the dried remnants of broth, sits on the stove. Another pot is half-full with congealed oatmeal.
The Wolf refuses to feel guilty. He is a wild creature. He is not meant to live within four walls like some domesticated dog.
He washes the pots and tosses the ruined vegetables and herbs. It is during this last task that he runs into the lumberjack.
"Glad to see you're back" the Lumberjack says. "He's been missing you."
I'm not back, the Wolf wants to snarl, and, What business is it of yours? Instead, he says, "I don't belong here."
The lumberjack shrugs. "Well, I don't know about that. I think we belong wherever we love and are loved."
"So, what, you're having a love affair with a hundred trees? Do you chop them down after you break-up?" It isn't his best line, but the lumberjack laughs anyway.
"My love was turned into a tree and hidden in this wood. Someday I will find and free him from his curse. Until then, my job gives me more than enough time to search."
"So you're saying it could be worse," the Wolf says. "I could be in love with a tree."
The lumberjack's smile broadens and he nods. "Instead you're only in love with a man."
It is only then that the Wolf realizes what he'd said. The truth of it warms him inside out. "I'm going to go back inside."
He doesn't say he's going to stay. That's what he means anyways.
The next morning, carrying a basket of leftovers, Steve returns to his cabin. He is dreading being alone again, but he cannot live in his sister's house.
He wants the Wolf. He doesn't understand how or why the Wolf has become so important to him, but maybe that doesn't matter. He just wants that strange and frustrating beast back in his kitchen, his bedroom, his life.
He has decided to track down the Wolf just as he's opening his cabin door.
And the Wolf is there.
Glass shatters as the basket falls from his hand. The Wolf's coat is warm and musky under his hands and cheek. His snout presses cool against Steve's neck. His claws prick lightly along his back. Steve can barely think for the utter relief flooding through him.
"I'm back," the Wolf says, unnecessarily. He is holding Steve as tightly as Steve is holding him.
Neither can quite feel embarrassed by their reactions to one another given the other is reacting quite the same.
"Good," Steve says. "Stay."
"Wild creatures don't belong indoors," the Wolf warns. He wants to stay, but some fear lingers. He can only promise now, not forever.
Steve, though, is unconcerned. He steps back, looking his Wolf in the eye. He lifts a hand to his Wolf's maw and traces a thumb along the seam of his mouth, the same mouth and sharp teeth that had once devoured him. "Since when," he asks, "have you cared about arbitrary rules?"
The Wolf flicks his tongue against Steve's thumb. "Since when, indeed."
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inspiration struck in a really, really weird way
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hxney-lemcn · 3 days ago
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Cuddling Headcanons — Jade & Floyd Leech x gn! reader
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tw: none.
a/n: I know I already wrote affection headcanons for all the NRC students, but I had a dream about hugging Floyd and needed to write about cuddling the eel.
wc: 1k
Master List
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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Jade Leech
❥Jade is a bit stiff when it comes to physical affection. Your hugs are met with light pats to the back. Just give him some time and start with small things. Jade, unlike his brother, isn’t as well versed in expressing his emotions so openly. He’ll try for you though, but only in private, he’s not comfortable with being vulnerable by himself, let alone in front of others.
❥Expresses his affection more subtly than Floyd, whether that be giving you gifts or helping you with any troubles. If you really want to hold on to him he’s more open to gentlemanly shows of affection like linking elbows or kissing the back of your hand. He’s amused at your want for affection and can’t help but give in even if it’s just slightly (also enjoys showing you off in a way that isn’t overly affectionate).
❥When you’re alone? He’s more open to any hugging you have in mind. Over time the awkward pats on your back will turn into a firm hug. You’re very lucky, he doesn’t even hug his brother like this. Like Floyd, his body temperature depends on his environment, so he won’t be warm per say, but he is tall and his hugs make you feel shielded from the rest of the world. He will tease you about how affectionate you are (even if you aren’t super affectionate), calls you clingy but makes no move to let go. 
❥Cuddling is another thing Jade has to get used to. So, so stiff at first. Over time he gets used to it, understanding how you want him to hold you or if you want to hold him (he finds the second option much more amusing). It’s not something he’ll crave, but he also enjoys the warmth you provide (both physically and emotionally). It’s in these moments that he finds himself willing to be just a bit more vulnerable with you, kissing your temple softly and tracing your features with his eyes. Finds it amusing and heartwarming that you’re willing to be so vulnerable in front of a predator like him.
❥Mornings are so domestic. Jade will typically wake first, go through his morning routine and wake you after. If he’s feeling a bit extra he’ll make you breakfast in bed, revealing just how sappy he actually was deep down. On the rare occasion you wake up before/with Jade, he finds the way you both walk around each other, doing your separate routine’s to be his favorite moment. How well you both know each other, and are comfortable you are with the other. It doesn’t fail to warm his heart. He’ll be hesitant if you ask to do his hair, he has a very specific routine to make himself look professional…but your puppy dog eyes do work on him no matter how much he argues otherwise.
❥Even Jade’s sleepwear is classy, you almost feel hesitant to touch it…almost. Unlike Floyd’s pajamas (which are baggy on him, can’t imagine how baggy they’d be on you), Jade’s are silky and smooth…also very baggy on you. He can’t help the predatory smile that tugs on his lips when he sees you in them, perhaps even he can feel a bit of cute aggression. But he doesn’t squeeze you, instead he admires you when you give him a twirl, flapping the sleeves that engulf your hands. He doesn’t mind sharing with you, not as long as you keep this view between the two of you.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Floyd Leech
❥Let me just say this out front, hugging Floyd is so comfy. He may not be super warm (moray eels are ectotherms which means their body temps depend on their environment), but the way he holds you so snuggly more than makes up for that. If you’re touch starved he’ll be your best bud. An excuse to squeeze someone? Sign him up. A willing victim to his shenanigans is welcome in his book (although he finds himself a bit downtrodden that you don’t run away from him anymore, he liked the chase).
❥Loves love loves touching you. Whenever he sees you he just gets the urge to squeeze you, but not like his normal squeezes where he wants the person to pop. No, he wants to squeeze you because of the fluttery feeling he gets in his chest. Cute aggression to the max. He doesn’t just hug you though, he likes to swing your intertwined hands or carries you around (depends how he’s feeling). 
❥Cuddling with him is a one way ticket to being stuck for hours. He loves draping himself over you like a weighted blanket. Maybe not fully laying on top of you, but you lay side by side facing each other and he’s got an arm and leg splayed over you. Floyd basically cocoons you in his hold, basking in the warmth both you and the blankets provided him. Loves love loves feeling you snuggle into him, he gets all happy and squeezes you just a bit tighter.
❥In the morning you never know what mood Floyd will be in. Some days he’s extra sleepy and will try and get you to stay with him (it’s hard to say no with him nuzzling his face into your messy hair), other days he’s bouncing off the wall, wanting you to get up early with him and start the day off with a bang. No matter what he’ll be asking you to help him with his morning routine, specifically fixing his hair. He has such a terrible bedhead that it never fails to amuse you. Floyd just loves to feel your hands in his hair, so who better to style it than you? 
❥Steal his clothes. Do it. Okay maybe I want to steal his sleepwear ‘cus it looks so comfy. His reaction depends on how he’s feeling. If he’s in a happier mood he’ll coo and tease you for stealing his clothes, makes him wanna wrap you up and keep you all to himself. If he's in a pissed mood, he won’t take too kindly. He was already having a bad day and now you’re wearing the exact hoodie he wanted to throw on. It might seem like he’s being a drama queen but if you’ve been looking forward to something (especially when you’re having a bad day) and someone took it you wouldn’t be too happy either. So don’t fight him, let him take the hoodie (and steal a different one).
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frudoo · 19 hours ago
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I’ve only had your baker! simon for one day and I already know that I would cause mass destruction if something happened to him 😁 no but seriously such a cute and fun read I loved it thank you so much for sharing!
He is my BABY and I am obsessed <3
Part 2 of this!
Warnings: Simon is healing 🤍 Fem!Reader.
Simon’s heart skips a beat. It’s a scam, it’s got to be. No way such a pretty woman would dare talk to him, business move or not. Although, the more he looks through your profile and sees the amount of posts you’re tagged in, it’s easy to conclude that you are, in fact, real. Regardless, he’s still wary as he finally begins typing out a response.
— No charge? Sounds too good to be true. What’s the catch?
Maybe a little harsh, but hey—can never be too careful nowadays. If there’s one thing the military instilled in him, it’s to trust nobody. Simon flops down onto his couch, fingers anxiously tapping along his knee as he watches you type, the ellipses disappearing and reappearing again. He wonders if you’re just as nervous as he is, but if that were the case, surely you wouldn’t have contacted him first.
— No catch, I promise! No offense, it’s just that your pictures are a little grainy and I don’t believe they act as a great showcase for your talent. Really, I just want to show you how pretty your treats can look on camera!
Simon sucks his teeth stubbornly. He knows his pictures aren’t the best, but fucking hell, must everybody point it out? He’s about to type a scathing response and block you, but another message pops up beneath your previous one.
— Please, just a chance. We’re in the same area, so I can just come to you, wherever you want me.
A heavy sigh escapes the big man. His therapist has been telling him he’s too uptight, suggesting that he should balance out his peace by stepping out of his comfort zone once in a while. Besides, when’s the last time a sweet girl has given him the light of day? He’d be a fool to pass up this opportunity. Simon pinches the crooked bridge of his nose, trying to talk some sense into himself. It’s not like it’s a date, simply just two businesses helping each other out. If it doesn’t work, he never has to see you again.
Yeah, that sounds good. If everything goes up in flames, he can simply block you and move on with his life, continuing to post shitty pictures of his desserts. His thumbs twitch before tapping the screen once again.
— You’ve beat it out of me. When are you available?
Your response comes faster than he can blink.
— Saturday?
Two days. That gives him plenty of time to prepare (and maybe get Price to order an extensive background check on you). Simon can do that, no problem.
— I can be ready for you by about half 11.
Ready for you? Fucks’ sake, what is this? She’s not a bloody prostitute.
— That sounds good! Just send me your address day of. I’m looking forward to it!! :)
Simon smiles. Simon smiles, and he doesn’t even realize it. If he did, he would fix it immediately—but he doesn’t. Instead there’s a pep in his step when he stands from the couch, grabbing his journal and scribbling down his thoughts and ideas for what he’ll make on Saturday. His therapist will be proud.
Simon allows himself to be proud as well.
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the-cosmic-cauldron · 2 days ago
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Astrology Observation: Main Character Energy Based on Rising Sign
Disclaimer: This post is meant to bring you positivity and confidence. If it doesn’t apply, let it fly.
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♈️🔥 Aries Rising: Your main character energy comes from your boldness and ferocity. When you step into a room, heads turn because people can’t help but feel your presence. There’s an energy about you that makes others sit up straight and look your way, often with a hint of intimidation. You radiate a sense of confidence, as if you know exactly what you’re doing and can carve your own path. You give the impression that you could take on the world alone, carrying a strength that feels unshakable. With this powerful aura, you naturally command respect wherever you go, but you also have the ability to lift others up. People are in awe of how motivational and inspiring you truly are.
♉️🌱 Taurus Rising: Your main character energy comes alive the moment you step into a room. Instantly, heads turn in your direction. It’s the way you walk—methodical and confident, as if you know exactly where you’re meant to be. There’s an unshakable self-assurance in you, a quiet strength that remains unaffected by anyone’s gaze. When you sit down, people can’t help but notice your glamorous, polished presence. You carry a subtle, pleasant scent that hints at the care you put into yourself. You look exactly where you belong, exuding calmness and poise, unbothered by others’ opinions or reactions.
People admire how put-together you seem; your aesthetic inspires them to elevate their own. When they walk by, they notice your fresh scent, and when they look at you, they see beauty, grace, and charm. There’s a captivating aura about you that feels like a natural high—simply being around you brings others a sense of calm and a desire to carry themselves with more intention. Your main character energy is magnetic, soothing, and undeniably inspiring.
♊️🌪️ Gemini Rising: When you walk into a room, your main character energy exudes pure star quality. People can’t help but think of you as the ultimate “it” person—full of life, zest, and effortless charm. You have a natural way of making others laugh, and your words flow smoothly, drawing people in and leaving them wanting more. There’s something captivating about how you speak, with a charm that reels people in and keeps them hooked.
Your social ease enhances your main character vibe, as you’re able to talk about so many things, each new insight intriguing and engaging. People feel like they’re watching a show, tuned in to your captivating stories, quick observations, and fascinating tidbits. They also love your eclectic style—how you can effortlessly switch up aesthetics, each one making you look even more intriguing.
There’s a lightheartedness to your energy that makes people feel at ease, as if they can relax and let their guard down around you. Being in your presence feels comfortable and familiar, like coming home, and people naturally open up to you, blossoming in your presence. You bring out the best in others simply by being yourself.
♋️🌊 Cancer Rising: When you walk into a room, your main character energy shines through in your warmth and comfort. You remind people of home, with a calming essence that puts everyone at ease. Like a gentle river flowing by, your presence seems to wash away worries, easing any tension in the space. You’re a natural at connecting with others, encouraging them to open up and feel safe.
Your style is chic and effortlessly classy, as if you’re always put together without even trying. When you speak, there’s a softness and charm that brings a smile to people’s faces, making everyone feel comfortable. You radiate such genuine, positive vibes that people just want to be close to you. You’re like a teddy bear, a warm blanket, or a cozy cup of tea—someone people instinctively feel drawn to, seeking the comfort of your presence.
People see you and think, “That person just has the coolest, calmest energy.” You balance interaction and observation, knowing when to sit back and watch as well as when to engage. You bring a balanced, serene aura to any room you’re in, and people can’t help but feel lighter around you.
♌️🌞 Leo Rising: The ultimate it girl and it boy, your main character energy radiates so strongly that when you walk into a room, no one can look away. As soon as you enter, heads turn, and all eyes are on you. Your aura is regal, and your confidence shines through—whether or not you feel it, you have this magnetic presence that makes it seem like you’re meant to take over the space. You flash a big, warm smile, and your style is bold, colorful, and romantic—something people can’t help but admire.
People are captivated by you because you know how to engage with others, how to make them feel good and look good. You just have an instinct for knowing where you fit and how to blend in effortlessly. You bring positive energy to any room, and the atmosphere instantly lightens when you’re around. Laughter fills the air, and people open up, feeling more confident in themselves because you make them feel that way.
Your main character energy lies in the fact that your personality is so vibrant and multifaceted. There are so many layers to who you are that people can’t help but get engrossed in your presence. You leave a lasting impression, and even after you leave the room, your name continues to be talked about. You are the ultimate it girl or it boy—impossible to forget.
♍️🌾 Virgo Rising: When you walk into a room, your main character energy shines through because you’re so poised and put together. It doesn’t matter what’s going on in your life; when you enter, people don’t see the struggles or chaos. You exude a sense of perfection, as if you have everything figured out. You seem incredibly intelligent, wise, and full of interesting, nuanced facts that you love sharing to enlighten others. You’re always bringing new insights about health, wellness, and ways to improve life, making people look to you as if you’re their personal life coach. They respect your knowledge and your ability to make life feel more manageable and structured.
People admire how selective you are because they sense that you only surround yourself with quality things. Your taste is impeccable, and they appreciate your keen eye for detail and your thoughtful perspective. It feels as though you can navigate any obstacle with ease, knowing exactly how to get what you want, even when there are challenges in your way. You have a natural ability to move through the world effortlessly, always staying true to your goals.
Another element of your energy is your voice. You speak with authority, and your unique, soothing tone captivates those around you. People feel comforted and reassured just by listening to you. There’s a quiet respect that you command simply by walking into a room, without having to say much at all.
What makes you truly remarkable is your ability to be discerning when it matters but also maintain a non-judgmental, open-minded perspective. You can zoom in on the details while also seeing the bigger picture, which makes people feel seen and understood, especially when they’re struggling. There’s something magnetic about your aura; people are drawn to you because they know they can rely on you for support, wisdom, and guidance.
♎️⚖️ Libra Rising: When you step into a room, the main character energy you exude is undeniable charm. You have this magnetic quality that draws people in, making them want to flirt and talk to you. It’s the way you speak, the way you look people in the eye—it feels romantic and flirtatious, almost like you transport them to a more playful, youthful state.
Your style is equally captivating; people can’t help but want what you have, whether it’s your shirt, your pants, or your purse. Your hair is likely full and constantly changing, and people envy your willingness to experiment with your look. They admire your openness to shifting your aesthetic, wishing they had the same freedom and confidence to do the same.
You’re also seen as a brainiac, someone who is intelligent and well-informed. People are jealous of the vast knowledge and experiences you possess. They feel like you’re always doing something new, constantly on the move, and they can’t quite keep up with you. You have a way of making everything you do seem exciting and spontaneous, and that adds to your star quality wherever you go.
What really sets you apart, though, is your grace. No matter what you do, you do it with such poise. You never come off as tacky or too much; there’s a beautiful balance to your personality. Even when chaos surrounds you—people arguing or talking about you—you remain unshaken. You stay poised, classy, and effortlessly composed. That’s just who you are.
♏️🦂 Scorpio Rising: Your main character energy is undeniable when you step into a room. Everyone automatically feels the need to be serious, because there’s something about you that demands respect. It’s as if your presence exudes an undercurrent of strength, and people instinctively sit up straighter, pulling themselves together in your presence. They recognize that you possess a level of tenacity and strength that they simply don’t have.
There’s a boldness about you that’s hard to ignore—it’s a glamorous boldness, subtle yet powerful. Your aura commands respect, but at the same time, people are intrigued. They can tell you’re calm, collected, and unbothered. Even if someone says something rude or nasty, you’ll respond with a glance that lets them know they’ve crossed a line, but without reacting emotionally. You keep your cool and maintain your composure.
You have an energy that makes people feel like you see through them. You understand people on a deeper level, and for some, that can be intimidating. They feel like you’re too cool for them, too aware, too sharp. Others, however, are drawn to you. They see a well of knowledge, creativity, and ideas within you that they envy and want to tap into.
People also get the sense that you have what they want. There’s an air of wealth around you—whether it’s money, status, or success—and they feel it. You don’t flaunt it, but they sense it, and it creates a certain tension. They may feel like you have something they lack, making them want to be closer to you, hoping to benefit from your influence or position. Your presence makes them feel like they could take on the world in a bolder way if they just aligned with you.
You have a gaze that makes people think twice before messing with you—your stare alone says, “I’m not someone to be taken lightly.”
♐️🏹 Sagittarius Rising: When you walk into a room, your main character energy is undeniable. You are so full of life, with an energy that’s almost contagious. People feel like they can’t keep up with you—like you wake up with natural caffeine running through your veins, constantly on a high. They admire your boldness and courage; you have this fearless mindset of “I don’t care, I’m going to do what I want,” and it’s magnetic. You’re free-spirited, and when you enter a room, you make everyone feel like they need to pack their bags and go on an adventure or try something new. Your energy breaks them out of their routines and shakes up their fixed mindsets.
You’re hilarious, always making people laugh and creating an atmosphere where everyone is comfortable, excited, and happy. Conversations with you flow easily, and you naturally lead discussions about new ideas, personal growth, and how to break free from the boxes we put ourselves in. People are intrigued by you—they look to you like you’re a guru or life coach, someone they can turn to for insight and guidance.
You’re incredibly insightful, offering broader perspectives that leave people amazed by your wisdom. Your extroverted, sociable personality excites everyone around you. You have this easygoing, childlike energy that makes people feel at ease. They don’t have to be serious around you; they can let go of their work stress and just enjoy the moment. You talk about things they’ve never heard of, sparking their curiosity and excitement.
You’re also always suggesting new adventures, quick to invite others along for spontaneous journeys. People love that about you—you make them feel like they’re part of something fun and exciting, like they’re on a journey with you. Your independence is palpable; you don’t need anyone to shine, and that’s the energy you give off. You are the ultimate “it” girl or “it” boy, and it’s clear that everything you do, you do on your own terms.
♑️🐐 Capricorn Rising: When you walk into a room, your main character energy is undeniable. People instantly perceive you as someone important. Whether it’s because they think you’re a celebrity, an influencer, or someone with a high-ranking, influential job, they sense that you’re doing something amazing with your life. You exude an aura that makes others believe you’re involved in something significant.
You have this intriguing balance between being serious and assertive, while also showing a deeply caring, humorous side. People love that you’re multi-dimensional—you can be incredibly assertive, knowing exactly what you want and speaking your mind with clarity. There’s no room for games with you; when they’re around you, they feel they have to be honest because you give them that knowing look that tells them you can see right through them. They can’t lie to you.
Your presence commands respect. It’s as though people recognize that you’re wise, experienced, and well-informed. They know not to mess with you because you’ve done your research and can back up everything you say. No one can easily talk you down, because you know exactly where their arguments are weak, and you can dismantle them with ease. After talking to you, people often feel as though they know less than they thought they did—your wisdom leaves them in awe.
You radiate a strong aura, as if you have a thousand aura points. Everyone around you can sense that you know something they don’t. They also feel like you’ve got your life together, even if that’s not always the case. You give off the energy of someone who’s on the brink of success, someone who’s bound to make things happen. You exude CEO, celebrity, and boss vibes. There’s an undeniable sense that you will never struggle because you know how to navigate and get through any challenge—you’re a mastermind.
♒️💧 Aquarius Rising: When you walk into a room, your main character energy is undeniable—people can’t help but notice you. You stand out, not necessarily because of anything physical, but because of the air you carry. There’s a certain intrigue about you that causes others to feel a mix of curiosity and a puzzling discomfort—one that draws them in. They can’t help but wonder, “Who is this person? What are they about? What are their interests?” You naturally pique their interest.
People see you as effortlessly cool. Even if you’re quirky or a little different, they’re still drawn to your energy. You radiate this unshakable confidence, and even if there’s insecurity deep down, others only see someone who knows exactly what they want in life and is going after it. You exude a larger-than-life presence, someone whose ambitions and desires aren’t ordinary. Your ideas are big and bold, and your mind ventures into places that others might not even think to explore. You offer fresh perspectives that are mentally stimulating and revitalizing for those around you. When people talk to you, they can’t help but want more of your thoughts and ideas because you challenge their perceptions and spark curiosity in a way no one else does.
You also give off the vibe of being the “cool” person, surrounded by a variety of friends with all sorts of interests. Whether you’re the cool girl with diverse, fun-loving friends or the cool guy who can fit into any crowd, people feel like you belong everywhere. Even if you’re a loner, you’re still a popular one—people are drawn to you, and they want to be around you. You effortlessly connect with all kinds of people, making everyone feel like they want to know what’s going on in your life.
And beyond just being fascinating, you’re also incredibly giving. You’d give the shirt off your back for someone in need, and people admire that about you. You have a genuine, kind heart, and it shows. People are drawn to your altruism, your desire for peace, love, and fairness. Your energy creates a sense of hope and goodness, and that’s why everyone wants to be near you—they’re inspired by the way you exude warmth and positivity.
♓️🐟 Pisces Rising: Your main character energy shines through when you walk into a room—it’s as if everyone else has entered a different dimension. You bring such a unique vibe and energy that it’s undeniable, and it instantly refreshes the atmosphere. People can’t help but feel intrigued by you; they want to get to know you better and see you as someone to be respected—someone who knows something they don’t. You have this well of knowledge that they feel they could tap into.
Your features are soft, and your presence is equally gentle. You have an artistic, loving, and radiant energy, and your skin seems to glow. Even if you wear a neutral expression, you might come off as distant, but the moment you smile, you completely transform. It’s as if you become warm and approachable, radiating sweetness and innocence, like a child. People sense your sensitivity and delicate soul, which makes them instinctively treat you with kindness and respect. They don’t want to mess with you because they believe that if they do, karma will catch up with them.
They also love being around you because of your creative mind. You come up with ideas effortlessly—ideas that others might spend days trying to figure out. Your creativity is so natural, and it draws people to you. You have this loving energy that makes others feel cared for. Whether it’s a friend or a stranger, people feel like they can talk to you and open up, as if you’re a warm, cozy blanket or a soothing cup of tea. You have an aura that makes people feel safe and understood.
There’s a side of you that’s all about people—you genuinely care about others, and it shows. You have this unique ability to connect with anyone, making everyone feel like you’re their person. People are drawn to you, and they feel like you’re their soulmate, friend-mate, or twin flame. It’s not just about being around you—it’s about the energy you give off, which makes everyone feel special.
You also exude this relaxed vibe. Even when things might be tough for you, you carry yourself in a way that lets others know you’re not focused on conflict. You’re easygoing and a good time to be around. You know how to make any situation enjoyable, and others seek you out because they know you have the secrets to fun and adventure. Your mystical aura and carefree, love-life spirit make people want to be around you forever.
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frogchiro · 2 days ago
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Krauser sitting and watch you and Leon as you make out and explore each other’s bodies. He’s just curious.
He would make you do it and he's such an asshole about it too :(
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He wasn't blind. Of course he wasn't. He saw how both you and Leon looked at each other, how you two interacted and all that shit. Some know-it-all shrink would guess it's some kind of trauma bonding, others would say its raging hormones between two your people, barely in your 20's and thrust into such shit predicament. Jack on the other hand didn't have time or care for speculations or analyzing the two rookies put under his command, all he knew and cared about is that Kennedy and you were close.
It was clear as day to anyone with two working eyes; Kennedy was gentler and more careful with you, for example during your private combat training, trying not to throw you around too roughly or hit too hard. Or how after you were tired out after your training Leon would always nuzzle up to you, nudging you with his forehead.
Or that one time during your first weeks on the base whenever some soldiers tried to harass you, Leon was always there, snarling like a feral mutt in your defense; that memory made Krauser chuckle, but he guesses that a mutt will always try to protect his bitch.
Surprisingly, this wasn't the case when it came to Jack himself. Leon was still protective of you, sure, but not nearly as much, in fact neither him nor you were unresponsive to his...advances. Krauser would be a liar if he said he didn't find you both pretty; nice bodies, good hips, the most fuckable lips and those sweet sweet eyes staring up at him whenever he cornered you or Kennedy with a snarl on his face, the gnarly scars moving slightly when he smirked at the whine or tiny arch he got in response.
Months of build up tension led to this exact moment; Krauser, who herded you and Leon into his office and made you sit on the couch, was now seated in front of it, huge, powerful legs spread wide, the bulge of his cock straining against his military pants as he watched you and the blonde embracing while kneeling in front of each other, your arms wrapped around the other's body and letting out the most delicious whimpers and tiny moans while kissing.
Your gentle, soft hands roamed over Leon's broad shoulders, neck and into his fluffy hair, carding through it and gently scratching his scalp which in turn made the man shudder and break the passionate kiss in order to let out pleasured purr, a string of spit still between you as you pant.
'This is so...embarrassing...' You thought and blushed even harder, not even able to suppress the needy whine when Leon dipped down to your neck to ravage it with hot, open mouthed kisses and making you subconsciously tilt your head to the side to allow him more room which Leon enthusiastically used.
His hands moved from your sides to your front, grabbing at your breasts and kneading them, particularly focusing on your stiff nipples which only made you moan louder and arch even more into his insistent touch; they were still so, so sensitive from last night when Leon suckled them well into the night...
However, your pleasure-pained noises were like music to Krauser's ears as his own hand traveled down his belly to his still clothed cock to give it a firm squeeze, his own husky growl drawing both your and Leon's attention and Jack couldn't help but chuckle at your fucked out, needy expressions when you looked at his obscene display; lounging back in his comfortable armchair, his huge, powerful body laid back lazily with his legs all spread, touching and squeezing his cock through his clothes.
God he couldn't wait until he got his hands on his two pretty, fucked out rookies <3
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machveil · 8 hours ago
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I can't resist the siren call
Roommate!Simon Riley that low-key enjoys fucking with your friends Y/N
subtle foreshadowing… I suppose I can dip into my nsfw Roommate!Simon Riley thoughts
Roommate!Simon Riley who shares a laundry bin with you, it had been agreed a long time ago that just doing a big load would be easier. you takes turns, knowingly stealing each other’s clothes every couple days when the laundry is fresh out the machine. you know Simon took an oversized t-shirt you owned, but that’s okay, you took his favorite gym hoodie
Roommate!Simon Riley who doesn’t get embarrassed about his underwear being in the bin with yours, it’s all going in the machine anyways. that doesn’t stop him from raising an eyebrow though when his favorite boxers go missing. he was sure he put them in with the dirties, well, the cleans now. he figures the machine ate it, or maybe they’ll show up some day by chance - he shrugs it off and separates his clothes from yours, snagging one of your oversized sweaters to lounge in later
Roommate!Simon Riley who freezes when he sees you on the couch that night. eyes wide and jaw slack, he can’t bring himself to move. sat watching something on the tv - he can’t be bothered to acknowledge whats playing - he stares at you, wearing his boxers as shorts. “Hey, come watch this— I’ll catch you up since it just started. I’m not pausing it though so you better pay attention.”, your words are all in one ear and out the other. suddenly his legs are moving on their own, stopping in front of you. he doesn’t register what you’re saying, telling him to move because you can’t see the tv, but then he speaks
Roommate!Simon Riley whose voice is deliciously deep, a little raspy from how his throat suddenly feels dry, “S’that mine?”, he asks, eyeing his boxers. he’s never had such a hard time swallowing before, heartbeat erratic as you casually respond, “Huh— oh, yeah. They’re really comfy, the fabrics nice.”. fabrics nice, yeah, he knows. “You— ya know those are boxers, right love?”, he asks, hands twitchy as you reply, “Mhm, just borrowin’ them.”
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CW: guilty wank, man is hopeless [kisses his cheek]
Roommate!Simon Riley who’s a mess after that interaction. you wouldn’t be able to tell by looking at him, but he’s losing it on the inside. he’s seen you be audacious with stealing his clothes before, taking his loose-fit tank tops that left little to the imagination on you, stealing clothes you knew he favored and parading around in them, but his boxers? that had him stalking back to his room, quick to turn on his heel before you could see his pants tent
he’s sweating, closes the door to his room a little harder than he meant to. god, he wants to go back out there and see you again, get an eyeful of how comfortable you looked - wearing his boxers like they were yours. you wouldn’t know, and he can’t help but think about it, but you had stolen his favorite pair. they’re plain, a simple black pair, something he bought at the store because he needed new underwear. but when you wear them? they suddenly looked different, makes his heart hammer against his chest. it feels like he walked out into the living room and you wearing lingerie, not something he got for fifteen pounds
he feels a little guilty, shoving his jeans down his thighs as he sits down on his bed. you’re home, sat in the living room just down the hall, and here’s Simon fishing his leaky cock out of his underwear. he really shouldn’t, he should sneak into the bathroom for a cold shower, think about war and blood and bullets to get his boner down. but he isn’t, he’s spitting into his palm and groaning, bringing his free hand up to cover his mouth - he’s never been good about keeping quiet. it’s not his fault you were out there wearing his clothes, you were the one that decided to look so— so cozy and content in your makeshift shorts. domestic
when that word settles at the forefront of his brain Simon’s hips jerk, you looked domestic, wanting to watch some show with him. his leg jolts slightly, hand moving to shallowly pump his weeping head. maybe your friends are right, Simon does take care of you - could bend you over and make you sob his name - he’s basically your boyfriend, often mistaken for your husband. his thighs tense when he imagines a ring on your finger— no, his dog tags hanging from your neck— god, holding you at night as an actual couple—
he’s choking out a moan, muffled and hoarse, as he coats his hand. eyes fluttering shut and breathing heavily, all his thoughts fly out the window as his cum drips down his fingers - all his thoughts except for one. he’s going to have to go back out there later to eat dinner with you, and oh, fuck, he sucks in a deep breath as he chubs up again
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odoraful · 2 days ago
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𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃
mini durin has been settling well in his new home in teyvat, but his strange disappearance one day sparks anxiety for you and wanderer
content: wanderer x gn!reader; established relationship; use of 'kuni' as wanderer's nickname; set approx. a month after the events of summertime scales and tales; mini durin appreciation !!; mild angst surrounding loss but ultimately comfort; hopefully not too ooc wanderer 🥺; 3.1k words
a/n: if i had a dollar for every time i wrote about waking up in the morning beside wanderer who wanted to stay in bed with you, i'd have two dollars which isn't a lot, but it's weird it happened twice
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When Wanderer brought home a miniature dragon, you initially thought he had got roped into taking care of someone else’s companion. At your first introduction, it had zipped around the room, little wings flapping intensely, as Wanderer tried to scold it to settle down to not frighten you. Its excitable, curious energy compared to his perpetual indifference was a sight to behold. To your surprise, it was in fact a friend he had met on his surreal adventure in a storybook land. You could hardly believe it when Wanderer retold the details of his journey to you, but the proof was in the adorable little dragon sitting on the sofa between you.
Mini Durin, as he was named, quickly became settled into you and Wanderer’s home. You both had begun to include him in your routines, much to Wanderer's persistent denial at wanting to get closer to him as friends. One of Mini Durin’s favourite parts of the day was the mornings when he could wake you two up. He’d sit on your chest and nuzzle against your cheeks or eagerly pull away at the blankets with his mouth, leaving a less than pleased Wanderer each time. However, today you woke up without hearing the bubbly sound of his giggles and greetings.
Your eyes opened blearily. Strange… he’s not here, was all your unfocused mind could think.
“Kuni,” you whispered with a slight rasp, voice still finding itself in the morning.
Wanderer remained perfectly still. He slept on his side facing you, and always had his arm draped around your body. Shoulders, back, waist, anything that connected you to him. Whilst breathing wasn’t necessary for him, feeling the rhythm of your inhales and exhales helped lull him into slumber.
“Come on,” you cooed, “we can’t stay in bed for the whole day.”
You were met only by the room’s silence, and the involuntary twitch of Wanderer’s eyelid.
Wanting to get up, you carefully lifted his hand that laid across your waist. Your fingers grazed his own, and, ever so slowly, you tried to move it closer to his body.  Suddenly, his fingers interlocked with yours. Your eyes widened with surprise as he shuffled closer, filling in the space between you.
“So, you were awake!”
Wanderer’s eyes fluttered open, amusement swirling in his indigo gaze.
“You’re too lazy, you know that?” you said with a teasing lilt.
He sighed in response, pulling your hand closer to his chest. The warmth of your body radiated across his naturally cool skin.
“And you’re too talkative,” he drawled. “There are worse things in life than sleeping in.”
You couldn’t fault him there, but productivity would be thrown out the window if you both stayed like this.
“Mini Durin didn’t wake us up today,” you mentioned.
Wanderer shrugged, rolling onto his back.
“Maybe he’s finally learned some etiquette about interrupting other people’s sleep.”
He closed his eyes again, anticipating that you would do the same. Though, he should have known better that you wouldn’t bend to his will so easily. As his guard lowered, you wiggled out his grasp. As much as Wanderer tried to stop you by wrapping his hands around your waist, you were too quick. Now that you were out of bed, there was no point in him staying here as well. He groaned in defeat. Shortly after, a drowsy Wanderer followed you out.
“Durin, good morning!” you called out.
Morning light filtered in as you pulled the curtains open, tying them aside. You scanned the room, but still no sign of him.
“It’s time to eat,” Wanderer called as well. “Durin?” 
He disappeared into an adjoining room in search of his purple-winged friend.
At this point, Mini Durin would already be fluttering about helping you open windows or perching on the counter as he brewed tea. Wanderer frowned.
“Where’s Mini Durin?” he asked.
You furrowed your brows. “Have you checked the laundry basket? He might be hiding in there again.”
“Of course I checked,” he replied.
“Well, what about the closet–”
“Where we store our blankets and extra pillows in? I already did that too,” he tried to keep the snap in his voice at bay, running a hand through his hair.
It was incredibly rare to see Wanderer uneasy, which made the twinge of anxiety you heard as he spoke even more noticeable.
Though Mini Durin was fond of exploration, it was uncharacteristic of him to disappear without mentioning, even more so in the early mornings. He had to be here somewhere. Your shared home was small, so there were not many spaces where the dragon could be hidden.
You strode to the study room, the last area neither of you had searched. The window above the desk had been opened, the light curtain material swaying lazily with the breeze.
“Kuni, I think he might have flown out through here,” you said, tiptoeing to push the curtain aside.
As you peered out, you hoped he would be there, perhaps simply getting some fresh air. However, only the occasional person would walk by, either on their morning stroll or carrying bags from their market visit. Mini Durin was still nowhere to be found.
Wanderer scowled, approaching your side near the window. “He should know better than to just leave like that.”
“He couldn’t have gone too far,” you reassured, laying your feet back on the floor, “I’m sure he’ll be alright.”
“Alright?”  
You turned to your partner, startled by the sudden seething of his voice. Wanderer’s face was contorted in frustration, though he couldn’t meet your gaze.
“He barely knows Sumeru City,” he spat. “How can you say he’ll be alright?”
Mini Durin had accompanied the two of you outside, but only in covert ways. You couldn’t deny his point that the roads of the city were yet to be familiar to him.  
Wanderer was simmering with anger, a state he hardly wanted to show in front of you. He had become more accepting of other emotions—embarrassment when you caught him staring at you on a golden afternoon, amusement at your attempts to care for house plants that oftentimes wilted, even adoration when you brought cups of tea to help him through troublesome Akademiya assignments—though, as much as he wanted to diminish it, anger was the easiest to provoke. Especially when it could mask other, more fragile feelings. Sadness and fear, namely, being the culprits.
Though he had not outwardly admitted it since his time in Simulanka, Mini Durin had become a close friend. He saw too much of himself in the little dragon to not at least hold some fondness. Few could occupy the soft spot of the person with no heart, and yet Mini Durin had cosied his way in, much like you had. It was what made the thought of losing him even more painful.
You reached your hand out to steady him, placing it on his shoulder.
“Kuni, please–”
“We don’t even know what time he left!” he continued, seeming to not hear you speak. He paced to the middle of the room, shrugging off your hand. “He could have flown out hours before we woke up.”
Too many thoughts raced through his mind. He hated this. Hated the flurry of emotions he got swept in, like a single pilot navigating through an endless storm.
“And who knows what kind of crazy people might be out there thinking he’s some kind of bounty.”
His throat felt tight as the words clawed up their way up. Some miserable part of him expected you to be afraid of him. That this side of him, prone to temperamental outbursts, would be more than you could handle.
“I–” he began before groaning. Exasperated by his own anger, he ruffled his hair with his hand, “–didn’t mean to… yell like that to you...”
He needed to think. Where would Mini Durin try to go first? Surely the Akademiya. Wanderer had taken him there many times, hidden away in his bags or garments. Mini Durin would probably want to satisfy his curiosity by exploring there himself. The Akademiya didn’t have too many floors, but it was an expansive building. If he left now, then–
Wanderer was jolted from his spiral of thoughts as he felt two hands press against the sides of his face, squishing his cheeks slightly.
“What are you doing!?” he spluttered, holding onto your wrists in shock.
“I’m calming you down,” you said, firmly.  
He was forced to look at you, confronted by the concern in your eyes.
Incredibly, the combination of your touch and voice did slow his racing mind. It was a break in the storm. That sliver of light that guided him towards safer skies.
“I am calm,” he asserted.
You gave him a skeptical look, brows raised. Wanderer clicked his tongue, knowing that his own statement was far from the truth.
You sighed.
Wanderer never spoke of his past, preferring it to stay left behind rather than exist in the present. Even so, you could make your own deductions. You sensed that sudden disappearances of those he cared about may be all too familiar to him. Your heart ached at the very thought.
“It’s alright to be frightened,” you said, gently. “It just shows how much Mini Durin means to you.”
“Frightened? I’m not…” his denial dried up in his throat, as too did his temper.
“But Mini Durin isn’t reckless. A little naïve, sure, but he would never put himself in danger like that,” you reasoned.
Tension released from his body at your consolations. Archons, he cursed. He was not one to be easily placated, but your voice and words managed to soothe him so quickly. You were a complement to his vitriol—understanding the world’s harshness yet maintaining a forgiveness he had yet to figure out.
He guided your hands down from his face, holding them loosely in his lap.
“You’re incomprehensible,” he muttered under his breath.  
With a shallow tease like that, you knew his spirits had somewhat returned to him.  
“We’ll find him together, okay?” you lightly rubbed his hand with your thumb. “No matter what.”
He nodded, his thoughts clearing with each gently circle you placed on his skin. “We should look around the street first and then head to the Akademiya. I wouldn’t put it pass him to want to explore that building on his own.”
Both in agreement, you two quickly changed out of your night clothes and headed out of your home. Walking down the street together, you knocked on the doors of your neighbours and approached those who were passing by, asking if they had seen a small purple dragon. However, you received no such clue as to his whereabouts. You prickled with anxiety with each shrug of shoulders and shake of people’s head. Maybe Mini Durin had flown out for longer than you anticipated.  
You reached the last home on the street, knowing the owner to be a kind old woman named Noor who lived by herself. Wanderer tapped on the door.
A voice called out, though it did not sound like an elderly woman at all.
“Coming!”
The door swung open. Standing at the threshold before you were two familiar figures.  
“Mini Durin!” you cried out with a gasp.
Seeing him at his neighbour’s home and not somewhere more dire filled Wanderer with inexplicable amounts of relief. His arms moved before he could even think. He yanked the little dragon into his arms and pressed him against his chest. Tucking his chin over his horned head, Wanderer let out exclaimed a sound of something between relief and annoyance. You rushed to wrap your arms around him as well, joining in on this tight hug.
“Oh! H-hello you two!” was all Mini Durin could reply, voice muffled by Wanderer’s garments.
The casualness of his tone certainly contrasted against yours and Wanderer’s panic over his disappearance. He was confused by the overwhelming concern you both displayed, and, particularly, the sudden physical affection by his friends.
Despite the gentleness in the way he held Mini Durin, Wanderer’s voice was still harsh as he scolded, “What are you doing here!?”
The purple dragon pushed his head out from Wanderer’s grasp, needing to get more air to speak.
“Well, I was just stretching my wings out in the morning, when I heard a THUD outside,” he replied, adding an extra emphasis on the sound effect. “I looked out the window and saw granny struggling with her grocery bags! I couldn’t just leave her, so I went out to help.”
You looked over at Noor standing at the door, walking stick in hand and a warm smile on her face.
“The young Wanderer and Y/N!” she crooned, “What a pleasure it is to see you.”
“Good morning, Noor,” you greeted with a fluster. “Sorry for all the commotion, we’re just happy to see our friend.”
Noor gazed fondly at the trio.
“Ah, is this little one with you two? “I should’ve known someone as kind as him would be acquainted with you.”
You moved to Noor’s side, supporting her arm as she shuffled towards Wanderer, Mini Durin still in his arms.
“I thought this small one wouldn’t be able to manage, but he swooped in and carried some of my bags in his mouth and flew all the way down this street!” she recounted with a hearty laugh.
As much as Wanderer didn’t want to react, the corners of his mouth twitched. Your expression was much less hidden as you burst into a grin. A tiny dragon carrying bags triple his size was certainly a comical image.
Noor leaned in closer to Mini Durin, patting him on the head. “Thank you, little purple one. It would have taken me double the time to get home without your assistance.”
Mini Durin lifted his chin proudly. “No problem, granny! I’m strong and fast enough to carry anything.”
Wanderer rolled his eyes and scoffed at that bold claim. He turned his attention to Noor, bowing his head.
“Thank you for looking after him,” Wanderer said.
There was sincerity in his voice that she didn’t think he was capable of. She nodded thoughtfully. It took little to judge that the prickly, young scholar had made a true friend.
“It was my pleasure,” she chuckled. “I’ll let you three go, but you’re always welcome to visit my home whenever you’d like.”
Mini Durin broke free from Wanderer’s arms, nuzzling Noor on the cheek which she happily received. The three of you waved goodbye, waiting until Noor shut her door before walking away.
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The morning sun had risen past the green tiled roofs of the houses lining the street, basking everything in a yellow glow. Mini Durin flew gently next to Wanderer, still quite happy about his earlier act of heroism.
Walking side-by-side, Wanderer wordlessly drifted closer to you. Your hands grazed each other, and you noticed his skin was warmer now to the touch. You turned towards him curiously. For a split second, his eyes flicked to the side towards you, before returning to gaze straight ahead of him. It would easily have been interpreted as a reflexive movement if not for the pink that bloomed across his porcelain skin. You bit back a smile, understanding your partner’s subtle shows of gratitude.
Wanderer knew if he properly turned to you, he’d see that silly, doting look on your face and he did not want to lose his composure this early in the day. Instead, he looked over at Mini Durin.
“You left the house without anywarning to follow someone you barely know?” he huffed. “You’re too careless for someone whose been here for less than a month.”
“That’s Kuni-speak for: I was really worried about you,” you mock whispered.
Wanderer shot a glare at you for admitting that, and you couldn’t help but chuckle.
Mini Durin, prepared to defend himself for helping a citizen in need, brightened. His round, innocent eyes seemed to sparkle in the morning light.
“You were worried about me?” he asked, zipping in front of you, “Truly?”
He hovered in front of you two, wings flapping in excitement, stopping both of you in your tracks.
“Of course we were!” you exclaimed. “You’re our friend. We wanted to make sure nothing bad had happened.”
Mini Durin’s little heart soared hearing you say that word: friend. He looked expectantly at Wanderer.
Wanderer stared at the anticipation in the purple dragon’s expression. He realized at that moment that there was a trend of surrounding himself with somewhat bright-eyed individuals.
“Yeah, yeah, I was worried too…” he mumbled, darting his eyes away. In a louder voice he moved the topic along with a wave of his hand, “Now, let’s all go home so I can get on with my morning.”
He walked briskly down the street, ahead of you and Mini Durin.
You and Mini Durin looked at each other for a beat before bursting into giggles. Too focused on each other’s amusement, you didn’t see Wanderer turn around to observe the two of you.
He thought it would take many, many lifetimes for him to feel this way. The world seemed too cruel to give out such warmth, and yet, there were the two of before him, a bubbly mess in the middle of the street. Contrary to what many would believe, he found himself not hating this feeling. If he remembered correctly, content was what it was named.
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The next morning, just like he had always done before, Mini Durin creaked open the door to your bedroom and flew inside. Landing on the blankets, he saw the two of you in a tangled mess. Notably, Wanderer locking you in his arms.
“Good morning!” he chirped, stretching out his wings. “Come on, it’s time to get ready for the day!”
You both shifted in your sleep, slowly coming into consciousness at his wake-up call. Unexpectedly, Wanderer lifted a tired hand at Mini Durin, gesturing him to come closer.
Mini Durin cocked his head to the side in confusion. Typically, his good friend would groan and complain before begrudgingly getting out of bed. He flew closer.
“Huh? Is there something–”
With a loud exclamation, Mini Durin was swept by Wanderer’s grasp. Before he knew it, he was snuggled underneath the blankets between you and Wanderer.
“Hey! You tricked me!” he said, trying to keep his tone hushed being so close to each of your ears.
He was met only by a cheeky smile from Wanderer and a quiet laugh from you. Wanderer patted Mini Durin’s head before speaking softly,
“It’s good to see you here.”
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203 notes · View notes
patrywoso · 3 days ago
Text
21. Lena Oberdorf
+18 smut
Warnings: Oral Sex. Finger fucking. Praise Kink. Biting. Squirting.
As always thanks to @ljs-woso-vibez for being the best proofreader out there and for the lovely anon that request it cause the idea was so good and I'm honored that you letted me write it.
It was cold and bitter in the early hours of the morning, as you walked the short distance from the hotel to the private gym that Germany rented. You clutched your gym bag closely to your body as you started up your hype playlist, checking your watch to see that it was close to 2 AM, a time in which you were sure all the other players were getting a much-needed rest.
You walked into the lobby and gave the sluggish employee an empathetic nod before making your way to the locker room. After a quick change of clothes from your coat and joggers into your workout clothes. You emerged into the training area and immediately bolted to the treadmill, hoping to get some life into your limbs with a quick start-up jog. You only made it a few minutes into said workout when a sudden grunt shook you from your morning thoughts and blaring music. Another one caused you to slow the treadmill to a stop, step off and go investigate. With a curious look and a quick wander, you found your teammate Lena dressed in her workout clothes, punching a boxing bag with wrapped wrists.
With a relieved smile, you took out your headphones and placed them back in the charging dock before approaching her. “Phew! You scared me I thought I was the only one here.” You admitted, walking close enough to seem interested in interacting but not enough to interrupt her space.
“Yeah, been a bit of a rough night so I thought I'd blow off some steam.” She explained between punches. 
“I’m sorry Lena.” You replied honestly, sighing as you leaned against a stand of dumbbells.
Lena stopped punching, shaking out her relaxed yet incredibly toned arms with a sigh, her eyebrows were furrowed as she looked at the floor. “Yeah...” Is all she answered, her voice trailing off into silence as she took the wraps off her hands.
You get up and with a soft smile put your hand on her warm, sweat-coated back. Her muscles were extremely hard to the touch, and you had to consciously hold yourself back from getting any more intimate than the friendly gesture you started with. “Look, let me help you cool off some steam, join me and we’ll have a casual workout together. I know what you’re going through and I wish someone had done this for me, come on.” You encouraged, your nerves dying down when she flashed her infamous cheeky smile and followed you over to the cycling machines.
Soon the pair of you were making casual conversation and cracking a few jokes here and there until you both fell into a comfortable silence. You couldn’t help noticing that out of the corner of your eye, Lena kept tracing her eyes over your body, it brought a blush to your already hot cheeks and forced you to bite back the shy smile threatening to stretch across your lips.
“Listen.” Lena started with a breathy laugh, “I dunno when we will next see each other but I figured I might as well let you know cuz what the hell.” Your heartbeat picked up at the words, you didn’t know what was to follow but you kept your exterior falsely calm as your interior was going crazy. “But I’ve always admired your style, attitude and just everything!”
Your heart sort of sat there, still, mimicking a reaction similar to ‘Is that all?’ But you still forced yourself to let out a polite yet still flustered chuckle. “Well, thank you I have been working hard to get a call from the national team.” 
“Plus, your ass always looks good in those tight little shorts you always wear,” Lena said under her breath. Intentionally loud enough for you to just about hear over the whirring of the machines. Your cheeks heated up once again, this time considerably more than the rest of your flustered workout face. A small chuckle next to you informed you that she noticed your reaction, and she liked it.
“The same can be said for you plus also your abs” You flirted back, a risky move which seemed to pay off when she smiled and shook her head before leaning onto the handlebars to do a last 2-minute sprint to finish off your round of cycling.
You joined her, stepping off the seat with wobbly legs before taking a sip of water. “Listen, I'm gonna do a couple of deadlifts. Wanna join me?” You asked, walking back over to the dumbbells after she gave you a nod of approval while drinking from her bottle. You picked up a dumbbell in each hand and started bending at the waist, blushing when she joined you at your side.
After a few reps, Lena put her weights down and stood back, taking a swig from her water bottle again. In the mirror you could see Lena inspecting your body, more specifically, inspecting your legs and ass before stepping closer to you. “Here try this, your form is a little off.” She commented, placing a toned hand on your back to straighten it. After she adjusted you, her palm slowly slid down to rest on your ass. “Feel better?” She asked, catching your eyes in the mirror.
“Mhm, yeah.” You replied, flustered, Lena was right, it did feel more comfortable, but you were way more concentrated on the placement of her hand rather than the burn in your glutes.
“Okay now hold that pose for a few seconds,” Lena added, referring to when you’re bent at the waist, torso parallel to the floor and ass stuck out in the air. You did as you were told and almost dropped a dumbbell when you felt her palm travel from your ass cheek to the space between your legs, cupping your hot, moist pussy through your shorts. “Careful there.” Lena teased, tracing your face in the mirror with her now lustful eyes. You closed yours tightly to help you maintain concentration, but you wobbled again when a single digit traced along the hem of your shorts, which was pressed firmly between your lips, and more specifically, against your swelling clit.
“Lena….” You gasped, your legs starting to tremble from the position, begging for a rest. Lena removed her hand, and you took that as your invitation to drop the dumbbells and stand up straight, as you did that you felt two hands on your waist, holding you up steadily.
“I probably should’ve asked but I just couldn’t help it, your little pussy all swollen and bulging through your shorts... fuck.” Lena trailed off, dipping her tongue out to quickly lick her lips as she still held you up. You bit your lip at the words trying to hold back a soft moan before lifting your hands to rest on her sculpted shoulders.
“I could probably help you let off some steam another way...” You teased, taking the risk to lean in and kiss her neck up to her jaw, which earned you a breathy moan from the taller woman. “It’s a lot more effective than working out.” You added, luring Lena in even more.
“Oh really?” With a soft ‘mhm’ you confirmed, before pulling away from Lena. Without another word said, you slowly walk towards the locker room, temptingly swaying your hips. With a quick yet seductive look back, you could see Lena following after you, giving you the heads up to confidently walk past the now-sleeping employee and into the locker room.
You took a seat on the benches in the centre of the room and watched Lena lock the door, meaning no one else could get in and that you were right in your suspicions of what was about to happen. When Lena turned around, she smirked at the sight of you. “Very cute.” She teased before picking you up from under your thighs and moving you over to sit on the counter. Now face to face, the air between you felt thick in the few milliseconds it took for Lena to close the gap and lock your lips together, deeply kissing you. Her hands crept up your thighs and closer to that sweet spot between your legs. Moans and heavy breaths left and entered each of your mouths for the long minutes of passion between you two, Lena’s fingers squeezed and traced your thighs while yours tangled in the hair at the back of her head.
“Fuck the number of times I’ve thought about this while watching you play is insane.” Lena moaned as she pulled away, moving to kiss down your neck to your shoulders. Her hands left your thighs and moved to take off your sports bra, leaving your perky tits exposed. She wasted no time to start kissing around your quickly hardening nipples while her large hands moved to cup the sides of your waist.
“Fuck I have been watching you in the dressing rooms.” You admitted embarrassingly, in that moment however you didn’t care. Lena had you in a hold where you’d admit anything to her, hell, you’d worship the ground she walked on.
“Oh yeah?” She pried, taking both your solid pink buds between her index fingers and thumbs, causing you to whimper at the sensation. “You watched me get undressed?” She asked, almost humiliating you as she took one of your hardened nipples into her mouth.
You nod desperately, cheeks heating up as you remember all the times you thought Lena had caught you staring but mindlessly disregarded it, if only you knew. “Fuck... YES!” You cry out as she flicks the bud that has yet to be pleasured by her extremely skilled tongue.
Soon she pulls away, leaving you to whine in protest until she slips her fingers into your waistband and removes your shorts along with your gym shoes, “I wonder, do you look at any of the other girls? Or just me?” Lena teased, her dominance oozing out through her tone, she had complete control of you now and if it wasn’t evident from her voice it was evident from the fact that she had your cunt on full display for her; legs far apart and clit swollen and throbbing to be touched.
“Just you.” You admit breathily, pushing your hair out of your blushing face as her eyes scanned down your body before landing on your desperate little hole. “Please Lena” You beg, spreading your legs further as a way to invite her to touch you, show her that you belong to her and that you’ll do anything for her at that moment.
“I know I know, just let me take you in. Take in how gorgeous your body is, how perfect your tits are, how pretty your little cunt is.” Lena spoke almost as if she was reciting a poem, her eyes were attached to you and all the juices coating your lips and the counter.
Soon enough Lena was close to you again, your once-neglected nipple was in her mouth and her fingers were slowly tracing up and down your slit; barely teasing your clit with every pass. You tilt your head back against the mirror and close your eyes, not wanting anything to distract you from the sensations of such a beautiful woman touching you in your most intimate places. Lena kissed down your toned stomach and thighs until she was in a squat position, before prying your pussy apart to expose your clit even more than before. With a hungry moan vibrating in the back of her throat, Lena closes her eyes and dips her head in to start flicking her tongue along the red bud. You moan from your gut and tip your head back as you start rocking your hips against her mouth, moans tumble from her tongue and vibrate against your cunt.
“Lena if you keep this up, I’m gonna cum” You whine as she starts suckling on the tender nerve, gripping your thighs hard enough to leave white marks on your skin. Moans and heavy breaths leave your lips as your hips continue to rock, your movement beginning to stutter and become frantic as you start chasing your high. The warmth in your stomach starts to twist and turn, becoming more intense in waves with each suck.
Soon it became almost impossible to hold yourself back, your hands had found her hair once again and you gripped it tight to ensure she wasn’t going anywhere while you rode out your high. “Fu-Fuck! Fuck! I’m cumming! I- “Is all you could muster to the taller woman before freezing, rolling your eyes back and tipping over the edge. Your body shook, clear, sweet liquid trickled from your pussy and into Lena’s mouth, making her moan and lap it up.
Once you come down, you open your eyes to see Lena wiping her face with a grin. “Enjoy that?” She asked getting up from the squat to once again kiss your neck and rest her hand on your shaky, sweat-coated thigh.
“Uh… uh-huh.” Was all you could let out, she chuckled and pushed a few stray strands of hair out of your flustered face. “Well good, because we’re not done yet.” She added, the comment made your pussy throb, and a small whine escaped from your lips.
Lena got up and helped you off of the counter before turning you to face the mirror, bending you at the waist and leaning your top half on the surface. You became heated at the new position, suddenly going shy from how exposed both your holes were to the woman you’ve fantasized about for countless months since joining the national team. A small moan left your lips as you swayed your ass from side to side to tempt her before resting your head on your crossed arms that lay on the cold marble counter.
Lena stayed standing and just took in the sight of you, once again, dripping pussy. She placed one hand on your lower back to steady the both of you before teasing your hole with the middle digit on the other hand. You couldn’t help but let a low breathy moan escape from your mouth, which turned into a loud, high gasp when she pushed in. Your soaking pussy swallowed her digit whole with ease, throbbing as a way to try and have her fill you up even more.
An “Oh fuck” came out of her mouth as a shocked whisper when Lena witnessed how easily you took her, let alone how tight you were around her finger. She started pumping, trying to be slow at first but your slick, warm hole made her cave, and she soon sped up her thrusts making you slap your palm over your mouth to contain the loud moan threatening to escape.
You cracked your eyes open and saw the most intoxicating scene before you: there stood Lena, a thin layer of sweat coating her skin, her lids heavy, jaw hanging open, her eyes locked to her fingers that were pumping in and out of you and covered in a thick dripping layer of your slick. Your favourite sight of all was her other hand, however, the one that you just assumed was just resting on the counter, was really under her waistband; teasing and pleasuring her slit. This sent you spiralling, your head became foggy and tipped back while you allowed whatever sounds your body could conjure up to spill out and echo along the walls of the empty room.
The second Lena easily slipped in 2 more fingers, you lost it and submitted to the second orgasm that forced itself throughout your body. Every muscle tensed, with your back arching and eyes rolling, a loud whine was ripped from your throat. A second round of squirt splashed on Lena’s hand as well as the floor, stopping and starting as she refused to cease her pumping until you had come down from such a heavenly experience. The only thing that brought you back to reality was the strained moans quietly coming from Lena’s lips as she continued to touch herself. She had pulled her drenched fingers from your entrance and leaned her hand onto the counter next to you, barely holding herself up with shaky muscles. You raised your limp body from up against the mirror, with the last bit of strength you could muster, and tilted her face up with gentle fingers so she was looking into eyes once again. In that moment you locked your lips with hers; determined to bring her to orgasm and satisfy her every desire.
“Please Lena, cum on your fingers for me.” You begged between kisses, knowing it would do something to that knot building in her stomach, which was confirmed by the quiet “fuck” she let out alongside short heavy huffs. You knew she was getting closer when her arm buckled under her weight. Luckily, she was able to catch herself, but it gave you the hint that she needed one last thing to send her over the edge; just something to push her into pure bliss. You leaned in and attached your mouth to her neck before biting down, you aimed to surprise her and, boy, did you do just that. Her eyes flew open and before you knew it her head flew back, a long string of profanity leaving her mouth as she shook from the inside out. Her legs struggled to keep her up and her knuckles were turning white from gripping the counter so hard as waves and waves of pleasure racked through her bones.
You were hypnotized by the sight laid out before you. You’d had fantasies before, sure, but the pleasure of seeing Lena orgasm in front of you, BECAUSE OF YOU, was out of this world. When Lena came down, she looked completely fucked out: flustered, sweaty and dazed yet still the most attractive woman you’d ever seen.
Lena placed both hands on the counter to support her powerhouse of a body and let her head drop in exhaustion. After a minute of resting, she let you lift her chin and push her damp fringe out of her face before giving you a soft peck on the cheek. “Thanks for that doll.” She slurred through a lazy smile.
“No problem, you feeling better now?” You asked, risking the question in case she got upset again. She nodded, however, still adorning her lazy post-sex smile while she helped you off of the counter.
“Come on you, get in that shower, we’ll unlock the door when we’re more presentable.” She chuckled, following you into the hot stream of fresh water.
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loganhowlettshousewife · 2 days ago
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request for a logan x reader where logan comforts the reader after they come home from a mission all bloodied up? i see a lot of reader comforting logan fics but im curious to see how itd be the other way round :)
me? responding to a request like three weeks later? it's more likely than you think. also sorry it's so short. originally it turned into smut but i didn't know if you'd want that given the request was for hurt/comfort. (if you guys want i can publish the alternate smut version of this fic too).
solace
summary: you come home from a mission gone wrong and logan helps you through it.
warnings: death (offscreen), blood, non-sexual intimacy, nudity, reader has hair, pet names (logan canonically calls his love interests "darlin'" and this is me pushing that agenda), english is not my first language so please do not be rude
word count: 1004
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you’re splattered in blood and grime, grey ash streaking your skin from the fire created by a little boy lashing out at the world. he had set his own house on fire, his parents dying in the most brutal of ways, burned alive.
“oh princess, c’mere,” logan pulls you into his arms. you’re in too much shock to argue, letting him manoeuvre you like a doll.
you don’t like going on missions, don’t like hurting people. you’re only ever sent on the easy ones, the non-violent ones, where you try to convince mutant kids to join the school. you’re good at talking to children, at getting them to admit their fears to you, at soothing their worries. but even the easy missions don’t always go well.
charles could sense that this particular child was powerful, and far worse than that, he was angry. he’d lashed out when he’d seen you, screamed in anger when his parents expressed a desire for him to go to xavier’s school, to learn to control himself before he came back home again. his parents were frightened too, scared of what might happen if things continued the way they were.
they’d all died in the explosion of his power.
he was so scared. he never meant to hurt anyone, you could see it in his eyes when the fire continued to burn despite him letting go. it was out of control, no longer a part of him that he could control like an extra limb, but something with a mind of its own.
it reminds you of yourself when you’d first discovered your abilities, scared and alienated from the rest of the world, from the non-mutants around you. you see yourself in every kid you save, and in every kid you lose.
you stay in logan’s arms for a long while, the only sound in the room his steady breathing contrasting with your ragged, choked out sobs. his chest rises steadily against yours, a rhythm that you try to imitate but you can’t, and with every failed inhale you feel your frustration grow, your panic increase.
he picks you up easily, and you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist, clutching onto him so as not to fall. he would never drop you, you know that, but it’s always a slight surprise when you’re not expecting him to lift you from the ground.
he leads you to the bathroom where he helps you strip out of your clothes, so gentle with your shaking form. his hands trace each new sliver of skin revealed to him, keeping a firm pressure on you always, grounding you, reminding you of where you are. not in a burning house watching a child’s corpse go pitch black from the flames, but in the house that logan bought the two of you, not too far from the school but enough to give the two of you privacy.
in the shower, the blood rinses off your skin, pink rivulets swirling down the drain. yet you can still feel it, thick and sticky and warm. you want to scrub at your skin until its red and blistering, until you have to grow a new layer of skin, a fresh one that hasn’t been touched by death.
logan doesn’t let you. he catches your hand and whispers, “let me take care of you, darlin’.”
you lean into his bare chest and he massages shampoo into the roots of your hair, over your scalp until it foams, and then rinses it away. he runs your conditioner - the one he always claims is too expensive and why would you spend so much on hair products - through your hair, tugging gently at the strands when he notices you disappearing into your mind.
afterwards he pats you dry, and kisses every inch of your skin, reverent, on his knees before you. and then he rises to his feet and finally presses his lips to yours, soft and intimate, not rushed or heated, just reassurance that he’s here, he’s got you, and he’s not going anywhere.
“do you want to talk about it?” he asks eventually.
you shake your head, “he was just a kid.”
“i know,” logan says, rubbing his large, rough hands over your arms, up and down, “but it’s not your fault, you know that. you can’t control what other people do. d’you blame storm for what happened?”
“no!” you exclaim, eyes wide at the implication that one of your best friends could have caused the boys death.
“but she was on the mission with you,” logan comments, and you shake your head, “if you don’t blame her, you can’t blame yourself. neither of you knew, you couldn’t’ve stopped it.”
“maybe,” you say. you don’t really believe it, but logan knows it’ll take you time to get back to your usual happy self, and he’s fine with staying by your side, whispering praise and reassurance until you start to believe him again.
afterwards, he puts on your favourite movie. he spends the whole time making fun of the characters and their decisions, grumbling about how movies will base their entire plot progression on actions no real, rational person would ever do, until you giggle wetly and slap him in the arm, telling him to shut up and let you watch the film.
you lean back into the circle of his arms and he holds you tight, occasionally wiping stray tears that run down your cheeks. there’s less tension in your muscles now, but you’re not quite relaxed, so he shuffles the two of you around until he can massage your shoulders and back.
you moan at the feeling, sinking into the sensation of his large hands working at the knots, until you’re putty for him. you feel warm and fuzzy by the time his hands start to stray down, massaging your thighs.
“feelin’ better?” he asks as the end credits roll, pressing a kiss to your hair.
“yeah,” you sigh, “thank you for taking care of me.”
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blackynsupremacy · 2 days ago
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NICHOLAS BEING OBSESSED WITH YOUR BOOBS HEADCANONS
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pairing: nicholas a. chavez x black!fem!reader
summary: nicholas can’t enough of your boobs.
contains: sfw and nsfw (18+) so minors dni! established relationship, nicholas being a simp, nicholas being a pervert, making out, mention of smut, ambiguous unprotected/protected (it’s up to the reader), oral (f!receiving + m!receiving), riding, major love to your titties, nipple sucking/biting, food play, ice play, slight breeding kink, praise kink, mention of sending nudes, cuddling, aftercare.
taglist: @stereotypicalbarbie @sabrinasopposite @afrogirl3005 @rosiestalez @supaprettyg @xoxoglittergossip @hnch33rios @tryingtograspctrl @gxuxhdjdu @simply-the-best23 @jkr820 @ellethespaceunicorn @camiesully
• your boyfriend nicholas loves everything about you.
• your mind, your soul, your heart.
• and of course, your body.
• one of his favorite parts: your boobs.
• the biggest simp to them thangs.
• it all started when he came over to your place for a dinner and movie night.
• ya’ll were gonna cook together, eat, and watch a movie. just kicking with each other, basically.
•when you opened the door, he peeped your usual lounge wear consisted of sweats and a white, ribbed tank.
• what he also peeped was that you didn’t wear a bra. you were a little confused on why he was blushing when he stepped inside.
• “because well, you know, you’re not wearing a…yeah.” he awkwardly gestured towards your figure and tried his best to avert his eyes.
• of course he believed you were this breathtakingly stunning woman who was indeed sexy as hell, but he didn’t want you to see him as a creep by any means.
• he respects you—a lot!
• when he told you why, you couldn’t help but laugh.
• “wait. what am i not wear—oh. ooohh!”
•you weren’t thinking of it that much because this was your house and you felt that comfortable around nicholas to walk braless around him. you reassured him this was just how you relax at home.
•you’d sometimes walk around shirtless, but that’s a story for later.
• from that day on, nicholas gained a bit of confidence regarding his love for your chest.
• it started out with you guys cuddling on the couch. his big wholesome self was laying on top of you with arms wrapped around you like a koala. his head rested on your torso, just a little below your chest.
• you didn’t mind. that’s your lil’ bookie butt!
•you and nicholas were laying in a comfortable silence. one hand massaging his hair, while the other was scrolling through your tiktok.
• “hmm…y/n.” he murmurs, nuzzling his head up closer. you spaced out a little and he called your name again a little louder.
• “yeah, nicholas?” you respond still paying attention to your scrolling.
• “there’s something i wanna try. would you be okay with that?”
• “yeah, sure, go ‘head.”
• nicholas took that green light to slide his large hands up under your shirt to softly caress the skin of your stomach, just taking his time and easing his way in.
• he was gonna make sure you’d stop scrolling once and for all and give him some attention.
•you thought he was just giving you an innocent body massage as you felt him move your shirt up your stomach.
•you giggled a bit when he sprinkled some sweet kisses along your navel.
• now you were starting to get confused. was he about to go down on you, right now?
•it was the complete opposite, nicholas was lifting that little ass shirt of yours higher and higher until your breasts were fully exposed to him.
•the girls were sitting pretty and looked ready to be taken care of.
• with both hands, he grasps onto them. with a dark, focused vision, his fingers take time to knead, roll, and play around.
• “nick, baby, what are you—ah, shit.” your sentence was cut short when pressed his tongue flat against your nipple, giving it a deliberate lick before his lips surrounds it to give it a good sucking.
• nicholas felt smug as fuck when he heard the thud of your phone hit the floor. now both of your hands were caressing his head as you brought him in closer.
• he’s a cheeky little perv when it comes to your boobs.
• he sees your nipples as little hershey kisses.
• ya’ll could just be standing there and he’d just grab a titty with no logical reason.
•he likes to playfully bury his face in your chest.
• gives you a motorboat every once in a while.
• he loves when you cuddle right on top of him, so your chests would be pressed together.
• he’s a sucker for you when hug him from behind.
• bonus for when you hug him from behind and you’re both shirtless.
• your plush, soft chest pressing and rubbing against the hard, toned muscles of his back are an intoxicating sensation.
• besides those itty bitty tanks you wear, it drives him crazy when you wear bikinis, corset tops, and low cut dresses.
• girl, he’d be ready to give it to you if you wear any of that with one of his necklaces.
• especially his gold cross chain. he’d be ready to literally fold you.
• you’d sometimes send him pics of you covering bare chest with his necklace on to tease him.
• for your instagram post on halloween, you and him recreated the iconic, yet scandalous album cover from janet jackson’s 1993 self-titled album.
• it’s the one with your hands on your head and he’s concealed behind you with his hands covering your breasts.
• ya’ll went so viral that queen janet herself gave you a like, comment, and a follow.
•nicholas thought you were so cute while you were having a fan girling moment.
• ya’ll didn’t give two shits about whatever backlash ya’ll received.
• you just got followed by janet jackson, so nothing else mattered.
• he loves to see them thangs jump and jiggle.
• one time you jogged up to him to tell him something and this man kept staring at your chest like he’d been hypnotized after seeing them move like that.
• you’d have to be the one to bring him back down to earth.
• “nicholas, i’m trying to tell you something important. my eyes are up here, baby boy.”
• he’d nervously laugh and apologize, he felt so embarrassed. he swears up and down that he has better self-control.
• you reassured him that you were going to let him see them soon.
• when you guys work out together. he would notice the bounce of your boobs when you were running on the treadmill.
• or when you sweat, it leaves your brown skin glistening in that area.
• his nasty self don’t give a fuck, he wants to lick it.
• obviously gropes onto your breasts while you guys makeout.
• he loves when you whimper in his mouth as his grip gets more intense.
• you were playing him in pool. it was hot as hell, so of course you wore a fucking corset top.
• nicholas just watched attentively each time you bent over to hit the balls with your pool cue.
• his eyes couldn’t pull away as your breasts pressed flush against the table.
• you didn’t notice because of your competitiveness. you just wanted to kick nicholas’ ass in this game.
•well, you did.
• man was in such a titty tizzy, he fumbled the game.
• you couldn’t help, but to gloat and he was still happy for your win.
• plus, he got to see your boobs, so did he really lose?
• he sings your praises each time you expose yourself before sex.
• “fuck, my girl is so fucking beautiful.”
• “don’t you see what you do to me, y/n?”
• “please, let me make you feel good, sweetheart.”
•when he goes down south, one hand is intertwined with yours while the other is playing around with your nipple as his tongue brings you to euphoria.
• they’re one his favorite places to release on after you’ve given him the world’s best head.
• he goes fucking crazy when he sees it dripping down your nipples.
• loves to alternate between each boob. he wants to make sure the girls get equal tlc.
• pull on his hair harder, his nibbles turn to bites.
• to spice things up, he’ll have you decorate your boobs with whip cream, chocolate sauce, or icing for him to lap it clean.
• his personal favorite is circling an ice cube around your nipples to get them cold and erected before placing his hot tongue on each.
• he’s mesmerized by the way the girls bounce whether you’re riding him or you’re beneath him in missionary.
• if it’s in reverse cowgirl, he’d hold on to your boobs for dear life.
• if he’s taking you from the side, one hand is on your leg to angle it up while the other gripping onto your chest.
• sometimes he’d just sit back and watch. he’d enjoy the show with his hands behind his head.
• or if he’s in a sentimental mood, he’d hold you by the waist and bring your chests as close as possible until you both become undone.
• afterwards, he’d run you both a bath to soothe your worn out bodies.
• he gently massages your boobs with soapy hands while whispering about how good you make him feel and not just in a sexual sense.
• he’d want to get you pregnant to see your boobs grow even bigger.
• he’d dress you in a sheer, satin nightgown that he bought you.
•he you got seven of them in different colors.
• when you cuddle in bed, he loves to be the big spoon, so that he can slide his hand under your top to caress your erect nipple.
• boobs aside, he wants to spend the rest of his life with you.
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passengerprincessblog · 2 days ago
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“Something Sweet” Charles Leclerc Short
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FLUFF ⭐️
Summary: Charles surprises Y/N with playful affection, stealing her ice cream and teasing her as they cozy up on the couch. In their quiet Monaco apartment, love blooms in the little moments, proving that even the silliest gestures can mean everything.
The soft glow of the TV lights up the darkened living room, casting a warm haze around me as I sink deeper into Charles’ plush couch. Monaco nights like these feel serene, with only the distant hum of the city below, quieted by the safety of his apartment walls. I let out a contented sigh, savoring each lick of my vanilla and caramel ice cream cone. It’s pure bliss — my favorite show, my favorite ice cream, and the comfort of Charles’ home around me.
Just as I’m lost in the familiar plotline on screen, I feel a shift beside me. Charles slides into the room, and his gaze locks onto me with an expression that’s equal parts adoration and amusement.
“Look at you… enjoying yourself? Huh?” His voice is teasing, the hint of a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips as he flops down next to me — so close, he’s practically on top of me.
I make a tiny, dramatic sound of annoyance, but truthfully, I don’t mind him crowding me. His warmth presses against me, and he’s close enough that I can feel his breath on my cheek as he leans in to plant a soft kiss there. His hand reaches up, pinching my cheek gently.
“Beautiful little baby,” he coos, his voice soft and adoring.
My face flushes immediately, but I try to brush it off, taking another lick of my ice cream to distract myself. He watches, and I can see that familiar mischievous glint in his eyes as he eyes the cone.
“Let me try some of that, Y/N,” he says, his hand darting out to steal it before I can protest. He takes a big, dramatic lick of the ice cream, savoring it with a grin.
“Get your own!” I whine, reaching for it.
“This is mine now,” he teases, taking another big bite, nearly finishing off the whole top.
I huff in frustration, crossing my arms as he chuckles at my reaction, his own cheeks tinged with a playful blush. I know he’s enjoying this little game, and I can’t help but roll my eyes, fully aware that I’m not fooling anyone. He loves to test my patience, and truthfully, I wouldn’t have it any other way.
His hand finds its way to my thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. His touch is comforting, sending a warm, tingling sensation that contrasts with the coldness of the ice cream. I watch him, my lips pressing into a pout as I wait for him to hand it back.
“You can ask for it back,” he teases, eyebrows lifting in that charmingly arrogant way of his.
I smile despite myself, trying to keep up my fake annoyance. “Please, may I have it back?” I ask, putting on my best polite voice.
“Wow, such good manners, Y/N!” he teases, holding the ice cream just out of reach. I make a grab for it, but he pulls it away with a mischievous glint in his eye.
“No, no. I’ll hold it. Go on…” His voice is soft, teasing, but there’s a tenderness in the way he looks at me, like this moment — silly as it is — means everything.
I let out a soft sigh, rolling my eyes again, but I lean in, taking a lick of the melting cone as he holds it for me. His gaze is warm, his eyes brimming with affection as he watches me. I feel my cheeks heat up, the sweetness of the ice cream mingling with the sweetness of his attention. I know he loves this — loves the simple act of taking care of me, even in the silliest, most playful ways.
Eventually, he leans back, pulling me against his chest, and I let myself sink into his embrace. His arm wraps around me, fingers brushing through my hair as we settle back into the quiet comfort of each other’s presence. We finish the rest of the show like that, cocooned together, the faint taste of vanilla and caramel lingering on my lips, a memory of this perfect moment.
——————————————————-
Thank you for reading!
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illbegottenfaith · 2 days ago
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bad day - theo nott x reader
a visit from your boyfriend perks you up even on the most frustrating of days
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a/n - my first theo nott fic! I’ve written for other fandom(s) so this was a nice change, hope you enjoy :
tropes/warnings - established relationship, a pet name here or there, nothing overwhelming, fluff, comfort, nothing 18+ but a brief alluding to it
word count - 1k
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“Off.”
As a general rule of thumb, you were typically the clingier half of your relationship with Theo. There was something about the feel of his skin against yours and the way his touch grounded you that made you feel safe and cared for in ways you were still too embarrassed to express out loud. Theo was always happy to indulge, casually draping an arm across your shoulders and rubbing soothing circles on your shoulder.
However, like all rules, it came with its exception - particularly, when you were studying. You needed to focus on your work, and that wasn’t exactly possible with the delicious warmth of Theo pressed against your back or hip. For the most part, he stayed well away when you needed him to, but something about the adrenaline of Quidditch practice made him extra excitable. Which was how you found yourself pouring over a hellish Charms essay in the Slytherin common room late one night, when you felt a pair of strong arms wrap around your middle and a familiar weight rest in the crook of your neck.
“Theo, I mean it,” you whined as he slid into the seat next to yours, refusing to relinquish his hold on you, effortlessly dragging you onto his lap. Your irritation evaporated at the sight of his boyish blue eyes and his sloping smile. It was a problem, really, how you could never stay mad at him. Merlin knows his ego is bad enough as it is.
“Hey, doll.” His nose nudged yours and you finally relented, wrapping an arm around his neck as he kissed you. His face felt cool against your warm forehead, and he smelt pleasantly of some non-descript yet refreshing soap. 
“My neck is killing me,” you mumbled against his lips as you broke apart. Theo leaned back to get a better look at your wan face, distractedly running a hand down your spine.
“Have you had dinner yet?”
“Yes,” you frowned, “with you. Remember?”
Theo stared at you blankly. “Y/N. I’ve been at Quidditch practice for the past four hours.”
“What are you talking about? We had dinner, then we came up to the common room, and it was, y’know, freezing, and I said I needed to buy more fleece-lined tights, and you started saying something about liking me best without any tights, but then those fifth-years started wrestling each other over that game of -“
“- Gobstones?”
“Exactly!”
“Babe, that was last Thursday.”
Your face fell. “…it was. Merlin.” Theo watched, amused, as you let out a string of curses under your breath as you flipped through your planner, scowling. “It’s this stupid Charms essay that’s doing me in. I haven’t had my head on straight all week. Remember when I wore my earmuffs to breakfast on Tuesday?”
“Mhm.”
“Made a proper arse of myself at 8 in the morning. And I genuinely thought I saw you just an hour ago. I don’t know what came over me.” 
“I didn’t know I was so forgettable of a boyfriend,” Theo teased, as you buried your face into your hands. 
“Stop. I feel awful enough already,” came your muffled voice. Laughing, he took your hands in his own, his features softening at the exhausted look on your face.
“Rough day, baby?” You groaned, burying your face into his chest as he wrapped his other arm around you. Before meeting Theo, you took pride in how fiercely independent you were. Even now, you were more than capable of handling your daily stresses just as well as the next guy, but you still had the tendency of being tightly wound more often than not, and sometimes it just felt nice to have someone hold you while you cried about how awful life was. No one could help you or get you to decompress the way Theo did.
“Rough week, more like,” you mumbled into his collarbone. He hummed sympathetically, hand still running up and down your spine.
“You didn’t say a word.”
“It could have been worse. I thought I’d just…you know. Deal.”
You could hear the amused lilt to his voice. “Deal?”
“Deal with it. On my own, I mean.”
His hold on you tightened a fraction. “Have dinner with me.”
“Didn’t you eat before practice?”
“Hm. Have supper with me.”
“Theo.”
“What?”
You sighed. You were never one to turn in an assignment late but, Merlin - he didn’t make things easy for you. 
“I really need to get this essay done.”
“So you’ll get it done. After supper. I could take a look at it for you. Or your neck. Or both.”
You snorted. “Yeah, sure, because a distraction is just what I need now. You don’t even take N.E.W.T level Charms.”
“So you find me distracting?”
You pressed your lips together, biting the inside of your cheek. “Let me put it this way. If I, um, ‘have supper’ with you now, this essay will not reach Flitwick’s desk by 10 am tomorrow.”
Theo didn't look too happy about anything you were saying. “So what do you want me to do?”
You fought the urge to roll your eyes. Like any other guy, Theo could only sympathise for so long before he was bursting with advice or solutions. You glanced at the clock, getting the distinct impression that he was valiantly trying to stifle a yawn. 
“Go, leave, shoo. Get some rest, read a book, start a fight with some fifth-years, I don’t know. I just need to bully myself into finishing this. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“But I don’t want to start a fight with some sticky-fingered Gobstones-playing fifth-years.”
Still, he reluctantly slid you off his lap, pressing a kiss to your forehead before briefly disappearing. He returned with a huge, ancient book whose weathered cover seemed somewhat related to Potions. He arched an eyebrow as you made a face at it.
“What’s that?”
“What’s that?” You shot back, looking greatly repulsed by the gnarly volume.
“Some light bedtime reading material,” he quipped. You watched his face nervously, the tell-tale signs of fatigue knitted into the creases of his achingly beautiful face.
“I mean it, Teddy. You really should go to bed.”
“Can’t. I’ve got a date in an hour.”
“Do you?”
“Yeah. I’m taking this really pretty girl out for supper.”
You rolled your eyes as Theo settled into his seat, cracking the disfigured tome open.
“Smooth-talker.”
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capuccinodoll · 16 hours ago
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Honey love, dark eyes
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Summary: Halloween night arrives at the Hoffman barbecue, and you find yourself masking feelings again. Word count: 8.5k A/N: Oh, i'm not over... - thank you for your comments, they're so fun lol you all make me laugh !! <3 Hope you enjoy this part.
October 31st. You let your feet drag across the cool bathroom tile, feeling every step. There was something comforting in that small heaviness, your body still lulled by the weight of lunch, and your mind restless, carrying the remnants of memories you'd been revisiting all afternoon. You turned on the shower, waiting a moment before stepping in, the heat closing around you like a second skin. As your fingers combed through your hair, scrubbing it softly, your thoughts slipped forward, out of your control, toward the evening ahead, as inevitable as the pull of gravity.
Last year felt impossibly far away. Sarah had wanted to be a vampire. You’d found her a set of plastic fangs, which she wore with a grin that pushed her cheeks high up on her face. Her cape was metallic, shiny as foil, falling past her shoulders, and she looked so delighted, bouncing on her feet in front of the mirror. You'd managed to take more photos than you ever needed, laughing at her exaggerated grimaces and capturing her tiny poses. Joel had been there, too, playing along, wide-eyed with pretend fear, leaning away from her “fangs” in a way that made her giggle. Every single picture was still on your hard drive—photos from a time you could hardly believe was only a year ago.
This Halloween was different. Sarah had decided on her costume weeks back—an astronaut. You’d spent the better part of September helping her piece it together, and she was beyond excited. She’d be with her friends tonight at a “scary” sleepover, which she’d told you about, bright-eyed and practically bouncing with anticipation. It was strange that she wasn’t here. It felt like there was a piece of Halloween missing, but she hadn’t felt it that way at all. To her, this was the most exciting plan in the world. You’d felt it too, in her voice, like a little pinch in your chest.
This would be the first Halloween in years you’d spend without her, alone at the Hoffmans' barbecue. And without Sarah, Joel wouldn't come either. His attendance at these neighborhood gatherings had always been more about you than the event itself, which you’d always appreciated without needing to say it out loud. You could picture him, standing with a beer, blending into the background, jokingly complaining about the crowds. He’d said he didn’t care for the noise, the small talk, and the endless kids weaving through adults like they were on a secret mission. But you’d noticed the way he’d watch Sarah, his face softened as he looked on, his attention lingering in that way that showed he didn’t mind being here, really, because it was with you and her. And the two of you—Joel and you—could talk about anything. He made everything feel like a continuation of one long conversation, like you’d just pick up right where you’d left off, glancing at each other and knowing what the other meant without even saying it.
You could also picture Clara, who’d come over to him every year, her voice lilting as she placed her hand lightly on his arm, her laugh soft and maybe a bit forced. She had that amused smile, that slight lean toward him whenever she spoke, and you couldn’t resist teasing him about it later. He’d always looked so puzzled whenever you brought it up, though you were sure he knew exactly what you were hinting at. She’d been living in the neighborhood for years, a few houses down, in that bright yellow house, and you knew she’d nursed a quiet crush on him for a while. And Joel, for his part, never seemed to notice.
The thought made you smile, picturing him in that moment, eyes narrowed, brows creased, looking at you as if to say, “Why would she be interested?” But as soon as you felt the smile, the weight of reality caught up. Joel was no longer in your life in the same way. He wasn’t “your” Joel anymore, the friend you’d poke fun at and swap knowing glances with. He wouldn’t be coming to the barbecue this year. With Sarah gone and things fractured between the two of you, he’d have no reason to come. 
Maybe this would be the year he’d finally spend Halloween as he’d always said he wanted to—in the quiet of his house, watching a horror movie, the occasional interruption of trick-or-treaters breaking the silence as he handed out candy. The picture of him there, his small, self-contained world entirely separate from you, felt like an ache that had been growing for a long time, quiet and steady.
You missed him. And it made you furious to feel it, like he had somehow taken something from you by hurting you, even though you knew, rationally, that wasn’t true. Still, the feeling stuck, simmering somewhere in the background. You hated that you missed him at all.
*
Your steps matched Travis’s as you left the house, his voice filling the space around you, his hands carving shapes in the air with his animated gestures. The crisp October air wrapped around you, a lingering autumn sun casting a warm, golden wash over everything—the leaves curling on the trees, the lawn stretching out beside you. You hugged your flannel a little closer, fingers brushing over the thick fabric. It was just the right layer—a deep green fleece, oversized, over a worn black T-shirt. You were warm, content, happy even, if only you could hold on to that feeling.
Beside you, Travis was recounting a work spat, his colleague’s tone and insults reimagined in Travis’s flurry of hands. You caught the edges of his words, murmuring a few responses that seemed to satisfy him. By the time you reached the Hoffmans’ house, you were both following the gentle glow of orange lights strung across the yard, stepping into a scene that felt dreamlike, suspended in that late afternoon haze. There was a large oak tree strung with little yellow lights, glowing faintly in the dying sunlight, the whole place set up in the same meticulous, festive way the Hoffmans always did. 
Every corner had been turned into Halloween, with cobwebs woven over bushes and pumpkins large and small lining tables, some carved and flickering with candles, others untouched, casting shadows across the tablecloths. Guests mingled at scattered tables, warm drinks in hand, their voices and laughter filling the air with a kind of warmth you hadn’t known you’d needed. The grill added a woodsy scent, smoky and rich, mixed with spices that made your stomach hum with anticipation. A few feet away, kids dressed as witches and monsters zoomed around, their laughter spilling into the light breeze, punctuating the chatter of the adults.
It was the kind of evening that felt ripe for sinking into, letting go of all the worries that had weighed on you lately. You wanted to let yourself simply be here.
Travis glanced at you then, his gaze softening in that way he had, his question as warm as his smile. “I’m heading for food—want anything?” he asked, eyes moving from you to the spread at the far end of the yard.
You pushed yourself up from the table, your hands planted firmly as if grounding yourself.
“I’ll come with you—this is the best part, right?”
The food was better than ever. Tender, perfectly cooked meat, salads piled high, and a sense of community humming through every bite. You found your spot at the table again, balancing your glass of beer on the edge, the faint strains of music drifting from the outdoor speakers blending into the buzz of voices around you. And then, like some personal invitation to memory, you heard the familiar intro; Eyes Without a Face, by Billy Idol, that unmistakable beat curling around you.
Your shoulders started to sway, almost without permission, and then there he was again—Joel. Just like that, back in your mind, as clear as if he were standing beside you. You could picture it—two years ago, slightly tipsy, singing that song in his living room, his hand on your waist, both of you spinning each other slowly to the rhythm, his head tilted back in a deep laugh, voice just slightly off-beat, and you trying and failing to contain your own laughter.
“You okay?” Travis’s voice pulled you back, concern lacing his tone as he looked at you. Your gaze had been locked on some invisible point on the table, your head leaning slightly, reliving a memory that suddenly felt all too close.
“Oh—yeah. It’s nothing. I just love this song.”
He smiled, nodding knowingly. “It’s a classic,” he said, his fingers tapping along with the beat.
You looked up and there, just beyond Travis, the Hoffmans’ glass door slid open. You stopped breathing for a second. Joel stepped out, looking like he’d walked out of some old photograph, hair a bit damp, dark jeans and a gray and black flannel layered over a plain white T-shirt, a pair of black converse grounding him to this moment. He moved toward one of the tables, brushing his chin absentmindedly, his lips moving in time with the music, glancing around as if he were taking it all in for the first time.
And then his gaze found yours.
You held your breath, as if that could somehow make you invisible, as if that would erase this moment. But his eyes stayed on you, unreadable, a half smile on his face or maybe just a neutral expression—some mix of familiar and distant, like he was watching you from a place you could never fully reach. You swallowed, shifting your focus back to Travis, who had his eyes on his phone now, idly typing something while he continued to eat.
“I should’ve dressed up tonight,” you said, your voice intentionally light, trying to shake the weight that had fallen over you. “I don’t know what I’d be, but still. It would be fun to pretend for a night.”
Travis chuckled, leaning in closer, but you could still see Joel over his shoulder, that steady gaze, watching from his own table.
“I know a party tomorrow night—my friend’s hosting, if you want to go with me. We can pick out costumes tomorrow morning, make a day of it.”
You smiled, surprised at how genuinely it formed, pushing your hands together in excitement.
“Really? I’d love that! I haven’t dressed up in years.”
Travis’s face lit up. “Then it’s a date. We’ll figure out the costumes in the morning. Anything you want.”
For a moment, you let yourself lean into that feeling, that lightness in his offer, something to look forward to. Your gaze wandered to Helena and her little daughter by the pool, her laughter carried to you on the breeze, her face illuminated in the soft glow of fairy lights. You patted Travis’s hand and stood up, gesturing for him to follow. He caught on, falling into step behind you as you made your way to greet them. 
But as you moved, you couldn’t shake the feeling of Joel’s eyes on you, lingering there in the space between.
It had been more than a month since you'd last seen Helena. She had traveled back to her home country after her father’s death, sorting through family matters, settling things that couldn’t be left undone. Now, with her daughter Iris perched on her lap, she looked better, lighter even. There was a calmness in her eyes that hadn’t been there before, her fingers tracing gentle circles over Iris’s shoulder as the little girl, dressed as a bumblebee, poked unenthusiastically at a slice of pumpkin bread. You sat next to her.
“Hey,” Helena said, catching sight of you with a warm smile that seemed to melt away everything around you—even the awareness of Joel, somewhere behind you, his gaze like a whisper you couldn’t quite shake. “It’s so good to see you. How are you?”
“I’m… fine,” you answered, hesitating as your eyes drifted to Iris, who looked up at you with a shy, dimpled smile. “When did you get back?”
“A few days ago. I was actually planning to stop by tomorrow,” Helena replied, brightening as she added, “I thought we could have dinner, get the girls together, and our guys.” She gave a little chuckle, nudging Iris lightly. “Paul would probably love having Joel around too. The poor guy spent the entire trip surrounded by women—my sisters are wonderful, but you know how it is. It was just him and my dad with all of us, and now…”
Helena had three sisters, each one of them stunning, with the same striking green eyes and dark hair that she had. When you’d met them last Christmas, it was as though you’d stepped into some enchanted fairytale—they moved with an effortless grace, magnetic and ethereal.
Helena’s eyes twinkled as she turned toward Travis. “You should come too, Travis,” she said, a mischievous glint in her expression. She shot you a knowing wink, which Travis, ever polite, caught with a smile.
��Sounds great,” he replied with an easy grin, though you felt a twinge of discomfort at the mention of “our guys,” the thought of Joel slipping into your mind unbidden. Trying to brush it aside, you nodded and shifted the conversation.
“Is Paul not coming tonight?” you asked, hoping to keep things light.
“No,” she sighed. “He’s been swamped at work, trying to catch up after our trip. But I really can’t complain. He was so great, staying home with me all this time, so I told him tonight he should just take his time.” 
Suddenly, you heard a familiar voice.
“Helena, it’s so good to see you!” Brenda, always the life of these gatherings, came over with her usual warmth, her gaze lighting up as she reached out for Iris. 
Brenda’s costume was a striking homage—her spiky orange hair and dark lipstick made her look both bold and playful. She wore a white shirt stamped with slogans in block print, a chunky pearl necklace framing her smile. As she was sitting in front of Helena, she caught your eye and grinned.
“I'm Vivienne Westwood!” she announced proudly, preening a little under your gaze.
“You look amazing,” you said, meaning it. “And the food is, as always, incredible. You outdo yourself every year.”
Brenda gave your hand a squeeze in response, her gaze softening, but just as she was about to respond, her attention shifted beyond you, a pleased expression lighting up her face. “Oh! Joel, come over here!”
Your body tensed at the sound of his name, feeling as though the space behind you had just closed in. He was there, his footsteps echoing toward you until he was nearly at your back. You wanted to stand up, to avoid the moment entirely, but it would have only made things worse—too obvious, too awkward. Brenda couldn’t have known. Joel had always been a fixture in your life; it wasn’t strange to see him here, even if, for some reason, it felt like he was moving in a world that was no longer entirely yours.
You glanced up, catching sight of Joel as he leaned down to kiss Brenda’s cheek while she patted the seat next to her. His smile was casual, easy, as he greeted the others with a nod, his eyes lingering just a second longer on you and Travis than felt necessary. He looked completely at ease, unbothered by the tension knotting up inside you, sitting comfortably in front of you.
Brenda’s hand rested on his arm as she looked up at him with a fond smile. “Where’s your Sarah? I haven’t seen her all night.”
“She’s at a friend’s sleepover,” Joel replied, a hint of concern threading through his words, though he tried to disguise it with a smile. “So I’m here on her behalf, I suppose.”
“She’s growing up so fast,” Brenda said, her tone nostalgic as she gave him a soft smack on the arm.
Joel shook his head slowly, a bittersweet smile flitting across his face before his gaze moved to Iris. “Tell me about it. I remember when she was this little…”
Helena’s hand drifted over her daughter’s hair as she smiled back at him.
“It all flies by, doesn’t it?” she said, her voice soft. “We really have to hold on to these moments.” She turned toward Travis, and he nodded, a gentle look in his eyes as he watched Iris. 
“How old is Sarah now, Joel?” Travis asked, and you noticed a subtle shift in Joel’s expression, a kind of hesitance before he replied.
“Twelve,” he said, his voice quieter, his gaze falling briefly before meeting Travis’s, smile dissapearing.
“Twelve?” Brenda’s tone was incredulous. “I still remember the day you moved in, Joel! She was so little then, a perfect little angel! And you—how old were you then?”
“Twenty-seven,” Joel answered with a wry smile, a hint of nostalgia in his tone.
“You were just a kid yourself,” Brenda replied, shaking her head. “Always working, always rushing somewhere. And always putting your baby first.”
Joel’s smile softened, his eyes meeting Brenda’s with a warm gratitude.
“I couldn’t have managed without you,” he said simply, as though she understood all the years of support and help she had given him.
Helena glanced over with a thoughtful look. “Didn’t you just have a birthday, Joel?” she asked, her voice casual, but the question landing with a weight that made your heart leap. 
“That's right,” he murmured, looking down at his hands as he fiddled with his fingers against the edge of the table. “September twenty-sixth.”
“Hey, happy belated birthday then,” Helena said brightly, her smile lighting up the words. “Did you have a nice time?”
Joel looked at you briefly, and something flickered there, like he was turning over a memory he hadn’t expected to find. He shifted his gaze back to his hands. “It was good. Full of… surprises, I guess. Pretty sure Sarah told you all about it, huh?” He shot a glance at Brenda, as if grateful for a way out of the conversation.
“Oh, I heard all about it from Sarah,” Brenda said, grinning, her gaze settling on you with a warmth that made you blush. “You’re a lucky guy, Joel, to have two sweet girls looking out for you like that.” She patted his arm. “I’ll make up a little bag of candy to take home to her, all right? I know she loves the caramel ones.”
You smiled, trying to ignore the prickle of Joel’s gaze on you. And then a feeling dragged you back to years before, to when his Sarah was just three. You could pictured her as a toddler with wide eyes and a toothy, mischievous grin. Joel had shown you those old photos once, and you remembered how adorable she looked, her tiny hand clutching a toy tightly. Sarah had his smile—that same easy warmth, with eyes that crinkled and all but disappeared whenever she laughed. That gesture was even present in Tommy, now that you thought about it. Maybe it was purely a Millers thing, but it—
You realized Brenda was talking to you and straightened up, feeling your cheeks warm.
“Sorry, what?”, you asked.
Brenda chuckled, looking at you with a soft smile. “I was just asking, how old was Sarah when you first met her?”
“She was eight,” Joel answered before you could, glancing at you with a faint smirk.
"Yeah, eight," you echoed the number, ignoring the way his gaze moved over you, lingering with a warmth that felt almost invasive.
At that moment, Helena called Brenda’s attention back to a conversation about Christmas and Iris’s upcoming birthday, but Joel’s eyes stayed on you, searching your face like he was looking for something only you might understand. You tried to keep your own expression neutral, feeling Travis’s hand come to rest on your knee under the table, giving it a gentle squeeze. The warmth of his touch helped you to breathe a little easier, though Joel didn’t miss the gesture. His gaze hardened as he glanced down, the line of his jaw tightening slightly.
Clearing his throat, he leaned forward, finally addressing Travis. “So, how’s business going, Travis? I heard something about real estate taking a hit. Times are rough, aren’t they?”
Travis, completely unfazed, nodded, his hand still on your knee. “It is. At least for now things are still good, but of course, I can speak for myself.”
Joel gave a slow, mocking nod, feigning an interest he didn’t feel. “Well, you seem quite competent. I have no doubt you sure are handy with business. Is your dad still running the company?”
Travis smiled, oblivious to the subtext that hung in Joel’s question. “Yep, still going strong, but I think he’s planning to retire soon. My old man is tired, I think.”
Joel raised his eyebrows in a mock gesture of understanding. “Makes sense. I’m sure you’ll do fine. You seem like the kind who’s got a knack for that… you know, the charm. Every successful businessman needs a little bamboozling spark, don’t they? And I... I think you fit the role.” 
“Joel,” you warned quietly, hoping to temper the tension you could feel growing at the table. But Joel merely looked back at you with a faint, defiant smile, ignoring the caution in your eyes.
Travis, patient as ever, simply shrugged. “I appreciate your good faith, Joel. It means a lot coming from you, I know what a hard worker you are.”
The kindness in his tone, the sincerity in his eyes—it made your heart soften. You turned to look at him with a warm smile on your face, how was he immune to the sharp words of the man in front of him? And Joel had a special talent for formulating painful and provocative sentences, but apparently Travis was not the easy guy to gnaw on. And you were grateful for that. 
He turned to you, his eyes warm as he pressed a quick kiss to your cheek. “I’m going to get us some drinks. Need anything, beautiful?”
You shook your head, managing a small smile. “I’m good, thanks.”
As he rose and walked away, he gave your shoulder one last affectionate squeeze. You noticed Joel watching Travis’s every move, his expression darkening, and once Travis was out of earshot, Joel’s gaze returned to you. He didn’t bother to hide his irritation, his eyes narrowing in an almost accusatory way as they moved over your face, searching.
“Joel, really,” you whispered, leaning in so only he could hear. “You don’t have to treat him like that. He’s never done a thing to you.”
A smirk flickered across his lips, and he leaned closer, eyes dancing with a kind of challenge. “Treat him like what?”
You shook your head, pulling back to put some distance between you, but Joel’s gaze followed, steady, like he was waiting for you to react, hoping for it even.
Murmuring an apology to Brenda and Helena, you stood, slipping away to the table by the big oak tree where your empty plate and half-full glass still sat. You picked it up, taking a long drink, grateful for the quiet moment, even as you felt his eyes on you from across the garden.
Travis appeared in front of you, a warm smile on his face as he handed over a small plate with a chocolate cupcake, topped with a dollop of cream shaped into a ghost and dusted with coconut. The sweet smell hit you right away, and you leaned in, inhaling the scent, your mouth already watering. You took a bite, savoring the rich chocolate—it tasted like all of Brenda Hoffman’s best baking, delicious and indulgent.
“Maybe after the barbecue, we could head back to my place for a while,” Travis said, his expression slightly tentative, as if he wasn’t entirely sure of your response.
“That sounds perfect,” you replied with a small smile, trying not to feel self-conscious. As you savored another bite, you glanced toward the pool where Joel was still deep in conversation with Brenda, Helena, and Iris. A moment later, you noticed Clara, all golden hair and easy confidence, sliding into the seat you’d left vacant. She placed two plates on the table, one for herself and one for Joel, who glanced up as she settled in, looking pleased.
Travis followed your gaze, then turned back to you with a knowing look.
“He hates me, doesn’t he?” he said, sounding almost amused, though his eyes held a faint hint of confusion. “I think I might understand why, i mean, i think i know why but…”
You blinked, feeling that all-too-familiar twinge of guilt.
“No, he doesn’t hate you,” you said, brushing off the thought. “He’s just acting… well, like a jerk.”
Travis nodded slowly, digesting your words, but then his eyes softened with curiosity.
“You don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to, but… what happened with you two? Weren’t you best friends? I remember you two were always together, but lately…”
You sighed, feeling the tension build as you searched for a way to answer. Travis didn’t need the full story, not yet.
“Like I just told you, he's acting like a jerk,” you said, and it didn't take long to sense that Travis wasn't satisfied with your answer.“Honestly, we just… had an argument a few weeks ago,” you said, carefully choosing each word. “It’s been weird between us since then, I guess.”
Travis seemed to sense that you didn’t want to go deeper, and thankfully he let the topic slide, moving the conversation in a new direction as he began to tell you about the last book he’d read.
“I just finished The Red and the Black, actually,” he said, his gaze turning thoughtful as he picked up his fork, poking at his plate absently. “I didn’t like Madame de Rênal. I thought her choices were a bit… unconvincing.”
You laughed, covering your mouth as you swallowed the last bite of cupcake. “Well, we're talking about revolutionary and passionate times, you know. I mean, Stendhal had his characters reflecting all that intensity. Have you read Goethe’s Werther?”
Travis smirked, shaking his head. “Ah, yes, the Werther book. The one with the famous suicide, right?”
You grinned, raising an eyebrow. “That’s the one. The famous suicide and the iconic outfit. I know it gets heavy, but I’ve always liked it.”
He chuckled, nodding as if to humor you.
“My sister made me read it as a teenager, actually. I thought Werther was too… sentimental for my taste.”
You tried not to smile too widely, picturing a young, disinterested Travis, brow furrowed over Goethe’s verses.
“I get it. I was probably more sympathetic to Werther than I should’ve been. I’ve always been a bit of a romantic myself, so maybe it made sense to me. Though I’ll admit, he does get insufferable.”
“Definitely insufferable,” Travis said, still amused. “I’ve always been more into horror anyway.”
The comment made you smile—Travis had a whole shelf at home stacked with DVDs and old VHS tapes of classics like Nightmare on Elm Street, Cujo, and The Birds. You’d teased him about it, of course, but there was something oddly endearing about it too.
As the conversation flowed, a faint twinge made itself known in your stomach, and you shifted in your seat, trying to ignore it. You’d had a glass of beer and two tall glasses of water before coming over, so the feeling wasn’t exactly a surprise.
“I’ll be right back,” you murmured, excusing yourself as you rose from your spot.
In doing so, you glanced over Travis’s shoulder, only to catch sight of Joel and Clara by the pool. Brenda had moved elsewhere, leaving Clara at Joel’s side, closer than casual. She was leaning into him, her hand resting against his shoulder, tucking a stray curl behind his ear, her laugh light and flirtatious. Joel didn’t seem uncomfortable with her proximity. In fact, he was smiling back at her, his gaze locked on hers in a way that made your heart sink just a little. 
You looked away, feeling a strange pang that you couldn’t quite justify. Had he been ignoring Clara before simply because you were there, next to him? But now, alone with her… he didn’t seem to be ignoring her at all.
As you headed toward the house, you forced yourself to shake off the thought. You slipped through the door and let out a sigh of relief, the cool interior air calming your nerves. Walking quietly down the hallway, you reached the bathroom and knocked gently to check if it was free. It was unoccupied, so you slipped inside and closed the door behind you. You paused by the mirror, glancing at your own reflection, almost surprised by the tension in your eyes.
What was Joel doing, looking at Clara like that? Wasn’t he still with Sienna? And what would she think if she saw him now, flirting? It was hard not to wonder if Sienna was like Clara, someone completely different from you. 
Clara was a flash of brilliance, a woman who looked like she’d walked off a magazine cover, golden curls that fell like soft waves of sunlight, her skin bronzed from Texas summers, her green eyes glinting with a brightness that made her seem almost elemental, like an extension of the sun. Her voice was soft, delicate; every word felt chosen, measured. She was flirtatious, always laughing, always seemingly content with the way things were. You could almost imagine that Clara might be Joel’s type—a vibrant, sunlit presence. It would make sense; he was her opposite in every way. When you thought of Joel, you thought of nighttime, the murmur of crickets outside a darkened window, strong coffee and smoky whiskey, a deep, hidden undercurrent. 
And you? You weren’t sure what you were. You weren’t quite the night, nor the day. Maybe you were something in between, or maybe you were just… undetermined. You wanted to think you had some affinity with the moon, but even that seemed too defined.
You sighed, breaking your gaze from your reflection as you felt an urgency to finish up. A moment later, you were washing your hands, the warm water and lavender soap grounding you a bit as your mind drifted again, wandering along with the suds down the drain. You dried your hands with a soft cotton towel, inhaling the fresh, clean scent.
But when you opened the door, you froze in place. Joel was standing there, leaning casually against the wall, his hands tucked behind him. He had been staring at the floor, but as soon as he heard you, his gaze flicked up. There was an intensity in his expression that made you pause, waiting for him to say something, to step aside, to let you pass. But he didn’t move.
When he finally spoke, his voice cut through the small space like a slow crack.
“Are you with him now?”
“With who, Travis?” you said, sounding more dismissive than you’d intended.
He raised an eyebrow, the faintest trace of a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth.
“Who else? Or is there another I don’t know about?”
You took a few steps closer, folding your arms, letting your expression go cold and tight, the same way it always seemed to be now, whenever you looked at him.
“I really don’t think that’s any of your business, Joel.” You lifted your chin. “I mean, last time I checked, you haven’t been all that open about your life either. So why would I tell you anything about mine now?”
Joel’s smirk twisted into something sharper. “Didn’t stop you from telling Tommy, did it?”
You shrugged. “Well, you’re not Tommy.”
Joel scoffed, crossing his arms, clearly entertained. “Telling Tommy is practically the same as telling me.”
You lifted an eyebrow, unfazed. “If it makes you feel better, go ahead and believe that.”
But his amusement faded, and he looked at you with something almost searching, like he was trying to find a trace of the way you used to be with him—kind, understanding, open in a way that had made him comfortable. You saw the shift in his face, in the way his eyes flicked between yours, like he was looking for some doorway back to that version of you. But she wasn’t here. Or maybe she was, just not for him anymore.
Then he leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping lower, almost a whisper, as he asked, “Did you sleep with him?”
The question hit you, and you stayed silent, unsure if an answer would expose the bitter knot you felt at your center. You hadn’t slept with Travis, not yet anyway. But Joel didn’t know that, and you found a petty thrill in letting him wonder, letting him believe what he wanted—that other hands, other lips had erased him from your memory, replaced every touch. That he had no longer been the last man to touch you.  It was pathetic, you knew it, but the curiosity to see his reaction was stronger than anything else. So you decided not to answer, to let the silence lie for you.
So you simply met his gaze, letting silence serve as an answer, your lips lifting in a faint, cryptic smile. And then you saw the moment he believed it: his jaw tightened, his breath went shallow, and his eyes seemed to darken, hardening.
“Like I said, none of your business,” you finally said, feeling something small and satisfied flare inside.
Joel chuckled, but it was a grim sound. He looked down briefly, and when he looked back up, there was an almost cruel gleam in his eye.
“Did he know where to touch you?”
You scoffed, turning the question back on him. “Do you really want to know?”
The moment the words left your mouth, you regretted them. You knew Joel well enough to know he would go there if he could. But you couldn’t let him gain the upper hand, not here. If anything, you needed to keep him off-balance, keep him uncomfortable.
“Oh, I’m all ears,” he replied, his smile gone now, leaving only a hard, steady gaze that felt like it was drilling into you.
You felt your cheeks flush, but you held his gaze, determined.
“He was the best I’ve ever had,” you said, letting each word hang in the air, daring him to question it. You tilted your head, feigning a fond, private recollection. “Gentle, but rough when I wanted him to be. And you want to know the best part?”
Joel’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, and for a moment, his expression softened. The dark look in his eyes deepened, his smile long gone.
“Afterwards, when I woke up,” you went on, drawing out each word, “Travis was still there.”
Joel’s head dipped, his eyes dropping to the ground, and you took a brief, selfish moment to take in the sight of him, almost broken in front of you. But something twisted in your chest; the satisfaction felt hollow, quickly replaced by a pang of something closer to pity, almost regret. You had an impulse to reach out, to tell him you hadn’t meant it, that Travis wasn’t even in the picture, that he hadn’t been the best or the first or anything. But you couldn’t allow that. 
You had to remind yourself why you’d stopped letting Joel in—how he’d left you out in the cold, how he’d made your feelings seem like nothing, as if they didn’t matter enough to consider. You had to remind yourself of Sienna, this woman who felt like a ghost, hovering between you and Joel, even though you’d never even met her. And if he was really with someone else, what was he doing here, pushing and prying, acting like he had the right to know these things about you? Why was he acting like he cared if you’d moved on, or if you were with someone else, when he was so openly flirting with Clara just a few minutes ago in Brenda’s backyard? Had he become a complete asshole, or had he always been like that and you were just now realizing it?
As the memory of it all flooded back, the tenderness you'd felt earlier drained away, replaced by a familiar, suffocating anger. It surged up from somewhere deep inside you, visceral and sharp, and before you could stop yourself, your body moved instinctively—stepping back, away from him—until your back hit the cold wall by the bathroom door. The impact was jarring, but it felt like a small, needed separation. 
Joel didn’t speak right away. He stood still, his eyes shifting downward, slowly, moving over your body, before meeting your face again. His expression was unreadable, like a mask he didn’t quite know how to remove. It irritated you, this silence, this uncertainty that hung between you two like an unwelcome guest.
Finally, you broke the tension, pushing yourself off the wall and stepping back, away from him. But just as you tried to distance yourself, his voice vibrated through the air, low and deliberate, cutting into your thoughts.
“That’s mine,” he said.
“What?” you managed, almost gasping, your eyes darting between his face and his hands, as if looking for something—anything—to explain this new, impossible tension. 
Joel didn’t move. He was still, a presence that loomed larger by the second. His gaze was steady on you, tracing your body and your face, slow and deliberate.
“The flannel,” he repeated, his voice dropping lower, rough around the edges. “It’s mine.”
You looked down at the fabric, the soft, familiar warmth of it, and felt a sudden jolt. God. He was right. It was his. But it had been yours for years. You'd worn it so often, so comfortably, that you'd forgotten it ever belonged to anyone else. Maybe he'd lent it to you once, a lifetime ago, on one of those cold nights when you both sat under blankets. But he’d never asked for it back, had he? He never seemed to care, and you never thought to return it. It had just... stayed with you.
When you lifted your eyes back to him, Joel had moved off the wall, stepping toward you with slow, deliberate steps, closing the distance between you. Too close. He was too close, and you could feel the heat radiating off his body as his presence engulfed you.
“What happened?” His voice was soft, but there was a simmering undercurrent, a teasing tone that made your pulse quicken, though you weren’t sure why. “Did you forget to include it in your little box when you gave everything back to me?”
You felt a bitter chuckle bubble in your throat, an angry little sound that you couldn’t quite hold back. You shook your head slightly, irritated, your chest tight as you opened your mouth to speak, but he interrupted you, his words coming fast, sharper than before.
“Doesn’t your little boyfriend mind you wearing another man’s clothes?” he asked, his voice dripping with something like disdain, like he had been holding that question inside for far too long. His eyes darkened, gliding down to the fabric again, then to your body, before he reached forward, his fingers brushing the edge of the flannel as if testing the boundaries. “Or does he already know this isn’t the only thing of mine that’s wrapped around you?”
A shiver ran through you, a mixture of anger and something else—something hotter, something less easy to define. You didn’t want to feel it, but it was there, and it was impossible to ignore.
No. This wasn’t about that. This was about him—how dare he?
In a sudden movement, your hands moved to the buttons of the flannel, fumbling with them in a rush, eager to take it off, to rid yourself of him. But as you tugged the fabric down over your shoulders, you felt Joel’s hand close around your left wrist, his palm warm against your skin, halting you, slowing you down. The touch was too familiar, too intimate, and it sent a jolt of something you couldn’t quite identify straight to your stomach.
“No,” he said, his voice suddenly low and commanding, like he was trying to anchor you, like he was trying to hold you in place. “It’s yours. Don’t take it off.”
You snorted, a dry, incredulous sound, and with an almost violent motion, you yanked your hand away from his, finishing the job of removing the flannel with a sharp tug. 
Joel’s jaw tightened, his eyes darkening further, and for a moment, you could see the effort it took him to stay still. His eyes lingered on you, tracing your every move, as you held the soft fabric against his chest. You could feel the air shift, feel the weight of his gaze on your skin, and your heart beat a little faster. 
You looked up at him, the anger suddenly spilling out of you. “No. You’re right. It’s yours. I should have given it back to you a long time ago.”
His hand moved up to his chest, over yours, taking the fabric from you with a slow, deliberate motion.
“Put it back on,” he said, his voice softer now, like he was trying to smooth over something that had frayed. "It's cold outside."
You wanted to fight it, to say something sharp, but your irritation bubbled up before you could stop it.
“Good thing I live across the block, then,” you blurted, the words coming out thicker with frustration as you pulled your hand free from under his, feeling the heat of his fingers linger on your skin.
Joel's patience was running thin. His hand shot out again, grabbing the flannel in a fist and pulling it closer to you, the fabric stretching between your bodies.
“Stop being so stubborn and put it back on,” he said, his tone more demanding, more urgent. His voice had a sharpness to it now, almost like a warning.
Something inside you snapped. You shoved his hand back hard, with as much force as you could muster, pushing him away—not enough to hurt, but enough to make your point. His body didn’t move, though. It stayed solid, unyielding, the broadness of his shoulders making you feel small, like you were being swallowed by his presence.
Frustration bubbled inside you, gnawing at your chest as you turned sharply on your heels, determined to leave. Your steps were quick, purposeful, as you made your way toward the hallway exit, the air heavy with everything left unsaid between you and Joel. But then, a firm grip wrapped around your wrist, dragging you back to him. You pivoted on instinct, meeting his gaze with eyes darkened by anger, sharp and focused.
For a moment, your mind flashed with the impulse to tear his hand off your wrist, to wrench it away and walk out of this whole mess. But you let it go. Instead, you locked eyes with him, your breath catching as your irritation turned into something more potent—exasperation.
“Enough, Joel,” you said, your voice cutting through the tension like a blade. “I'm tired of fighting with you.” The words spilled out before you could stop them, and inside, you couldn’t help but wonder how it had come to this—how two people who once fit so easily together had ended up here, so broken and scattered. 
“Then let’s not fight,” he said, his voice softer now, almost like he was pleading. There was a quiet desperation in his words, a slight hitch, as if he was offering a fragile truce. “We can—”
“I’m afraid that’s impossible,” you interrupted, your words sharp and cold, the bitterness clinging to every syllable. “I can’t stand you anymore.” As soon as they left your lips, you realized how hard and cruel they sounded, but you didn’t care. You were exhausted. Tired of the games, tired of the back-and-forth. The anger inside you surged again, hotter than before, as his fingers tightened around your wrist, forcing you to feel the weight of it. Desperation.
“Don’t look for me,” you continued, the words raw and unrelenting. “Don’t talk to me anymore. Don’t look at me. I don’t want anything to do with you. I’ve had enough of all of this. If I could go back in time, I’d change everything, I’d avoid all of this shit.” The heat in your chest built as tears threatened, burning behind your eyes. “But I can’t. I can’t do anything about it, and neither can you, so leave me the fuck alone for once. Avoid me if you can and I’ll avoid you. Pretend I don’t fucking exist. I don't know. Just stop it, Joel.”
The impact of your words hit him like a physical blow. You saw the flash of pain in his eyes, the way his mouth twisted, his face contorting in a wince. Something inside you sank, and for a moment, regret pierced you. But then, the anger pushed the guilt aside. He hadn’t been considerate of you before, had he? And that thought, that realization, let the remorse slip away.
His grip loosened just slightly, but he didn’t release you. Instead, his fingers trailed down to your palm, stroking it gently with his fingertips, his breath shallow and measured, like he was holding himself back from saying something more. 
For a moment, you both stood still, suspended in that space, him looking at you, and you trying not to look at him—waiting, anticipating what would come next. What was the right thing to do now? You should walk away. Right now. Now. 
But then his voice, quiet and soft, cut through the air.
“You don’t need me anymore?”
“No,” you said, the word escaping before you could stop it. The lie tasted bitter on your tongue, and the second it left you, you could feel it: the squeeze in your chest, the twisting of your heart. It wasn’t true, not really. But you wanted it to be. You wanted it to be true more than anything.
Joel’s eyes flickered, just for a second, like they were searching for something in your face that wasn’t there. His expression faltered, his hand falling away from yours, his gaze dropping to the floor, as if the weight of your words had crushed him. 
“I know that’s not true, baby,” he whispered, his voice rough with something you couldn’t name, but it was too much. You couldn’t bear to see it.
You shook your head, refusing to let the crack in your own resolve show.
“Maybe not, yet,” you said, your voice colder now, harder. “But I’ll do whatever it takes to make it true.”
With that, you turned away before you could second-guess yourself, before you could see his reaction and let the guilt undo you. You didn’t want to stay. Not now. If you stayed a moment longer, you knew you would apologize, you’d cave, you’d let him back in. But you couldn’t. You couldn’t keep doing this. 
You walked quickly back to your seat, each step carrying you farther away from him, from the tension that had become unbearable. You barely noticed Travis’s worried look when you sat down next to him.
“Are you all right?” he asked, his voice laced with concern. “You were gone a while.”
You nodded, forcing a weak, half-smile. But inside, it felt like everything was crumbling. Your bones felt brittle, as if they might snap with the weight of it all. Your body had turned to lead, your muscles drained of all strength. Your eyes, heavy with unshed tears, were a reflection of the ache in your chest. 
You just wanted to go home, crawl into your bed, and never come out. The lump in your throat grew larger with every second, and the cold air stung your neck, making you shiver.
“What happened to your shirt?” Travis asked, noticing the way your body had become tense and cold.
You didn’t answer, relieved when he stood and came to stand beside you. You watched as he shrugged off his jacket, his movements gentle, as he draped it over your shoulders and helped you tuck your arms into it. 
Once you were warm, Travis slipped his arm over your shoulders, pulling you into him, his soft kiss to the top of your head offering a fleeting moment of comfort. You couldn’t help but lean into him, resting your head on his collarbone, inhaling the familiar scent of his perfume. For a moment, you allowed yourself to feel the comfort of being held, the peace of someone who wasn’t trying to tear you apart.
But then you heard it—the sliding door opening. And you knew. 
When you opened your eyes, you saw him. Joel. Walking out of the house, his pace slow, deliberate, as he clutched the flannel shirt in his left hand. His eyes were cast downward, but when he looked up, they locked on you. His expression shifted, something unreadable in the way he looked at you, and your stomach dropped. 
He walked toward his table, his fist clenching the fabric so tightly that his knuckles went white, his gaze never leaving you. You couldn’t look away either. It was like a magnetic pull. 
At his table, Carla was waiting, her eyes fixed on him like a hawk circling prey. You felt an involuntary surge of disgust. You wanted to stand up, to march over there and shake her, to tell her to leave, to stop, that she was being pathetic. But then, the sharp, bitter truth hit you: Carla wasn’t the problem. You were. She reminded you of yourself—the way you’d clung to Joel, the way you’d let him define you. 
Joel spoke, his voice angry and loud enough for you to hear from where you sat. 
“I’m going home,” he said, his eyes cutting through Carla as he raised his head to her height. Then he pulled back, holding out his hand. “Y'wanna come with me?”
And there it was—the knot in your chest tightened. Carla nodded, flushed with a victorious smile, and took his hand. The same hand that had held yours just minutes before. 
You closed your eyes, sinking further into Travis’s embrace, the ache in your chest spreading, overwhelming. 
You couldn’t leave now. Not with him walking out, not with her next to him. What would you do? Cross paths with them on the way out? Watch them walk away together? The thought was unbearable.
“Can we go to your place for a while?” Your voice was small, almost breaking as you whispered into Travis’s chest. 
“Sure thing, honey,” he murmured, the warmth of his body offering a small, fleeting comfort against the storm of emotions inside you.
-
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