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misshoneyimhome · 4 months

Note

If you’re willing to write for jack Hughes, maybe something like he & the reader are friends & he finds out that she’s never “finished” (like she’s not a virgin, but she just never finished while having sex), and so he wants to help her out?

Maybe you can add like him liking her before this already, but it doesn’t matter :)

Alrighty bb! I'm so sorry it took so long for me to write this, but it's my first time writing about Jack Hughes, so it took a bit longer than usual 😉 Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy it 🤍 Happy New Year to all Jack H. lovers out there 🥂

[So, apparently, I find it a bit difficult to write about slow sex 🙈]

Warnings; smut 18+; fingering; protected sex (p in v);

Word count; 3.2K

[bestfriend!Jack x reader]

・✶ ｡ﾟ

What's your name? (what's your name?) Who's your daddy? (who's your daddy?) Is he rich, is he rich like me? Has he taken any time To show, to show you what you need to live?

Time of the season - Zombie

"Have you decided on a movie?" Jack called from the kitchen while wrapping up the popcorn.

"Yeah, all set here," you hollered back. "Just waiting on the snacks."

"Okay, I'm here now," Jack hurried over with a chuckle as you were already settled on the sofa, patiently waiting for him.

It was a typical evening spent with your good friend Jack Hughes, a bit of a tradition whenever he returned from a road trip with the New Jersey Devils.

This pattern started off a few months back when Jack had first texted you on his way home, feeling a bit down after some games resulting in losses on the road. And realising how much it affected him, you spent the next day brainstorming ways to cheer him up.

That's when the idea of a movie night came about. The goal was to find a classic, light-hearted comedy that could take Jack's mind off things. And it seemed to do the trick.

And ever since that night, after every road trip, you and Jack would meet up (no matter wins or loses), watch a movie, and then spend the night chatting about pretty much anything and everything.

If he wanted to talk about the trip, you'd talk about that. Or if he needed a diversion from hockey, then that's exactly what you'd provide.

That's just how your friendship worked - calm, laid-back, and straightforward.

With Jack, you felt like there wasn't much you couldn't discuss. Well, perhaps there were a few personal matters you'd never broached with your close friend. However, it never seemed to be an issue.

Though, on this particular evening, during the movie, your phone lit up with a text from your girlfriend, sparking a somewhat sensitive topic to your conversation.

"I swear! This guy is the one 😱 five orgasms tonight babe - I think I’m in love!!"

A smile crept onto your face as you read the message.

It was from one of your best friends, out on a date with a new Tinder match, which was somewhat a weekly ritual for her, yet this time it seemed she'd finally met someone who could meet her rather demanding needs.

"What's so funny?" Jack asked, noticing your smile and focused attention on your phone.

"Oh, it's nothing," you casually responded.

"Come on, tell me - it's clearly something amusing," your friend prodded, as his curiosity piqued.

"It's just Mel, she's on another date," you said, flashing a soft smile as you showed Jack the message, causing his eyes to widen a bit.

"Wow, sounds like she's having quite a night," Jack chuckled lightly.

"Yeah, I suppose," you shrugged, darting your eyes between the movie playing on the TV and your phone, trying to evade Jack's gaze and the topic a bit. However, Jack seemed intent on delving further into the matter.

"Well, I mean, five orgasms in one go, that's quite something," he chuckled lightly. "Depends on the person, of course."

But you found yourself biting your lip, feeling a bit out of your depth with the subject.

"I, um... I guess..." you mumbled nervously. "I mean, I... I wouldn't really know," you softly admitted, staring at your phone in your hand.

"What?" Jack chuckled. "What do you mean you wouldn't know?"

His expression shifted to one a bit puzzled as you quietly revealed your personal secret.

"Well... I haven't exactly ‘finished’... ever."

A brief silence fell between you, the only sound being the TV's credits playing in the background.

"You haven't... had an orgasm? Ever?" Jack asked, genuinely surprised by your sudden confession.

"Well... I mean, kind of - at least I think I have, by myself... but I've just never reached that... climax point with someone else," you slowly exhaled as your eyes met Jack's, giving him a nervous glance.

"Are you serious, y/n?" The hockey player stared at you, utterly baffled, prompting you to gently nod in confirmation.

Jack couldn't help but feel a pang in his heart. How could that be the case?

"It's not as if I haven't had good sex before, Jack," you attempted to explain, trying to ease the tension that had softly developed. "I just haven't... you know, reached that point..."

"But yeah, that’s like the best part! I just don’t get it... Hasn't any guy ever taken his time to make sure you had the complete experience? To give you that satisfaction?"

Your confession seemed to strike a chord with your friend, and though you weren't entirely certain why, it did provide a slight sense of reassurance.

For a while, you'd felt as though something might be wrong with you. Maybe you just couldn't reach climax during sex with someone else. However, Jack's reaction made you reconsider that notion. In a positive light.

"I suppose not..." you spoke gently, locking eyes with him. "There hasn't always been the time, you know... And every time, it seemed they were just aiming to please themselves."

But Jack wasn't willing to accept that. It didn't seem fair to you that you hadn't experienced the true pleasure of sex, if your partners hadn't taken the time to ensure your pleasure was as important as theirs.

And he could feel his mind racing as he pondered how to address this newfound information.

If Jack had to be completely honest, you weren’t just a good friend to him. You held a special place in his heart that went beyond mere friendship, even though there had never been anything romantic or sexual between you.

Truth be told, he had a little crush on you.

Over time, he found you to be someone remarkable. You showed genuine care and support for him, whether it was on the side-line of games or a shoulder to lean on outside the hockey world. And you never asked for anything in return.

You didn’t boast to everyone about your friendship with an NHL hockey player or flaunt your closeness to his family. And your lack of interest in his fame and money was one of the many reasons why he admired you so much.

So, sitting there beside you, realising that you had been missing out on something so wonderful, made him consider whether perhaps he could be the one to introduce you to the pleasures of a fulfilling sexual experience.

However, he hesitated to voice his thoughts, unsure of how you might react. Yet, before he could gather his courage, you interrupted his train of thought.

"Are you okay, Jackie?"

"Yeah, I'm just thinking..."

"About?"

"Nothing... well, not exactly nothing..."

"You can tell me?"

Running his fingers through his hair, Jack took a moment to choose his words carefully, hoping not to alarm you. Then, he tenderly brushed the smooth skin on your cheek as his gaze fixated on your lips.

"I want to show..." he breathed softly, licking his lips almost seductively. "I want to show you just how amazing it can be..."

You were slightly taken aback. Did your best friend just propose that the two of you should have sex?

Yet, Jack's deep eyes revealed no falsehood. He seemed almost dead serious as his gaze met yours again, and you had to remind yourself to breathe.

Jack was without a doubt attractive. And maybe even more than just attractive. Truth be told, you understood precisely why so many girls were constantly swooning over him. He had an incredible charm. His laughter and smile could light up any room, and his hockey-built physique only added to his appeal.

But you'd never considered that he might be attracted to you. You were simply a long-time family friend he could turn to for comfort.

However, in that very moment, it seemed you might have a chance at being something a bit more.

"What?" you asked in disbelief. "I mean, what?"

And Jack gently nodded, his fingers tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

"Y/n, it pains me to think you've never experienced just how good sex can be, so yeah, I'd love to be the one to show you..."

In truth, there wasn't much to contemplate. Though he was your best friend, you didn’t want to overthink why he was expressing a desire to have sex with you. Perhaps it was simply because he felt bad that no one had ever made you feel that way. Nonetheless, it wasn't something you'd turn down.

So, with a gentle nod and a soft smile, you gave him your consent.

However, as he tenderly guided you to his bedroom and began to place delicate kisses on your neck while slowly undressing you, Jack felt the need for more reassurance. He wanted to be absolutely certain that you were completely comfortable with taking this step in your friendship.

"You're sure you want this?"

"Yes, Jack," you whispered softly, your palms delicately finding their way to his chest.

And with a soft nod, his large hands then smoothly slid under the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head and revealing your bra to your best friend for the first time. It was an intimate moment, the closest Jack had ever been to you, his soft lips touching yours, while witnessing you in this vulnerable state. It felt incredible.

The atmosphere was serene and gentle as Jack dimmed the lights in his spacious bedroom, aiming to create the most relaxed setting for you. He even put on some soothing tunes in the background, something that always helped him unwind before a tense match.

An as you were left in just your underwear, Jack gently guided you to lie down on the bed. Though he knew you weren't entirely inexperienced nor a virgin, he wanted to ensure that both of you took the time necessary. Moreover, he had to manage his own excitement. This was about your needs, so he needed to ensure he wouldn’t reach climax too quickly.

Your eyes held a profound gaze as he slowly undressed himself to his boxers and joined you on the bed, his larger body hovering over yours before tenderly placing a soft kiss on your lips.

Your fingers instinctively found his semi-long locks, pulling him a bit closer, eager to deepen the kiss. But Jack pulled back slightly, reminding himself to maintain focus and take things slowly.

"Easy there... we have plenty of time," he whispered softly, redirecting his attention to your neck instead. He kissed, sucked, and nibbled gently on your sensitive skin, allowing you to relax into the comfortable sensations.

A wave of pleasure swept over you as Jack took his time to ease your nerves, allowing you to immerse yourself in the delightful feelings. Soft sighs mingled with light moans escaped your lips as his hand massaged your breast, teasing your nipple through the thin fabric before travelling down to your lacy panties. With gentle strokes, he caressed your warmth, while withdrawing his lips from your skin to observe your exquisite face, reflecting hints of pleasure under his touch.

Locking eyes with him, as his touch grew more intense, you desired more than just gentle caresses.

"Jack..." you breathed out. "Touch me, more."

And your wish was his command.

His fingers slid under your bottoms, gliding through your folds before carefully finding your clit. Being mindful of his rough hockey fingers, he was careful as he circled your sensitive bud, causing more moans to escape your lips.

It was a sight to behold for Jack. Watching your eyes shut tightly, your expressions contorting in pleasure, as he increased his touch, he found it incredibly hot.

"Is it good, baby?" Jack whispered softly; his voice tinged with seduction.

"Yes... Yes, Jack, it's so good," you managed to voice, overwhelmed by the pleasure his fingers were providing, surpassing anything you'd experienced alone.

Under his touch, it felt incredibly wonderful. Jack's fingers worked their magic, and while most guys might have grown impatient by now, he was still taking the time needed to bring you to that peak of pleasure. He was focused on leading you to that blissful climax, feeling a rush of desire as he watched you succumb to the overwhelming sensation.

Then as he felt your body both relaxed and tense with pleasure, Jack adjusted his position slightly. Although there was a fleeting disappointment as his fingers withdrew from your sensitive spot, it didn't last long, as he swiftly removed your panties and positioned himself on his knees between your legs. Then, his left thumb found your sensitive nub again, igniting that pleasurable sensation once more. You had to let your head sink back into the pillow, feeling an unfamiliar but incredible sensation building in your lower abdomen - a feeling beyond description.

Your hands gripped the pillow tightly on each side of your head, eyes closed, as gasps and moans escaped you.

And while observing your reaction, Jack sensed you were approaching that unfamiliar peak you longed for, so with his right hand, he gently found your entrance, teasingly poking with a finger.

"Still feeling good?"

"Yes," you panted. "Yes, Jack... Please," you almost felt embarrassed by your plea, but you were completely under his spell.

And the pleasure only intensified as Jack carefully inserted two digits into your tight core, stretching your walls, guiding you towards an unparalleled level of ecstasy.

"Jack... Fuck," you moaned louder as he withdrew his fingers only to push them back in, establishing a gentle rhythm alongside his circling thumb, delivering multiple waves of stimulation.

"Yeah, that's good, baby, just relax," he encouraged softly.

It was more than good - it was overwhelming. You had never experienced the sensation in your abdomen evolve into something so intense. It seemed to expand, flooding every vein with pleasure as the promise of an orgasm slowly took hold, clouding your mind.

And Jack felt your body's reaction to his touch, the walls of your core contracting around his fingers as you neared your long-awaited climax. So, adjusting his angle, he gently curled his fingers upwards, seeking that particularly sensitive spot. And as you let out a loud moan and arched your back, he knew he'd found it.

So, he persisted, hitting that spot repeatedly.

Your mind, body, and soul felt as though they were being torn apart in a rush of ecstasy, as Jack increased his speed, overstimulating you, and causing your juices to coat his fingers.

"Shit! Jack, I think I'm gonna..." you gasped, the sensations almost overwhelming you.

"That's it, baby, come for me! Let go and show me how good I'm making you feel."

And so, you did.

With a loud, deep moan originating from the depths of your abdomen, you surrendered yourself entirely, slipping into a euphoric state as the orgasm surged through your body, rendering your mind hazy and grey.

"Fuck," you cried out as Jack's movements gradually slowed down, and you had to take a few moments to regain control of your breath, slowly coming down from the intense high, as he withdrew his fingers.

Jack couldn't help but smile, thoroughly enjoying the sight beneath him. It almost felt to scoring an overtime goal as he observed how profoundly he could pleasure you, while you opened your eyes, locking gazes with him.

"Was it good?" he asked, a mischievous grin playing on his lips, although he already knew the answer.

"Well, can't really say no to that, can I?" you chuckled lightly, summoning the strength to prop yourself up on your elbows. "It was fucking amazing, Jack... thank you."

"No need to thank me... I just wanted to make sure you had the best experience," he replied, flashing you a charming smile that could easily sweep any girl off her feet.

"Well, I must admit, you really did," you returned his smile. "But what about you?"

Your eyes couldn't help but drift to the bulge that had unmistakably formed in his boxers, feeling an urge to reciprocate the pleasure somehow.

However, Jack simply let out a soft chuckle before leaning in, hovering over you, and planting a gentle kiss on your lips.

"We don't have to do anything about that right now..."

"Why not?" you looked at him, slightly perplexed. "Jack, I want you to feel good too."

"Are you sure ab—"

"Yes, Jack..." you interrupted, leaning towards him once more, this time deepening the kiss, conveying how much you desired him.

Pulling back slightly, he nodded. "Okay... just give me a moment."

With that, Jack rose from his position, undressing until he stood completely naked, unveiling his eagerly throbbing member. You couldn't help but gasp at the sight. It was long, hard, and slightly curved at the tip, yet perfect in its own right. It complemented Jack's physique, and you felt an intense sudden need to feel it inside you.

And fortunately, there wasn't much of a wait.

Jack swiftly opened the condom packet from his bedside table, put it on, and smoothly went for the missionary position. He then positioned the tip of his cock at your entrance, before carefully pushing in.

Your hand quickly found its way to his hair again as he kissed you passionately, steadily rocking his hips back and forth, causing pleasurable sensations as he slid in and out of you.

Whether it was Jack's perfectly shaped and fitted member or the intense orgasm from his earlier touch, you couldn't tell, but before long, you felt that new familiar sensation building up once more.

And Jack found himself unable to hold back much longer.

While it had been thrilling for him to witness your pleasure, he was now eager for his own release.

And as you both sank into the mattress again, his hips meeting yours in a rhythmic pace, he felt himself nearing his climax.

Your tightening walls spurred him on, and as he lost control, increasing his speed and force, your harmonising moans and heavy breaths filled the room. He was just about to reach the peak as you moaned loudly.

"Fuck Jack, I'm about to come again," you exclaimed.

His rhythm hit you just right, and you couldn't ignore the trembling in your legs as the high took over, succumbing to your second orgasm of the night.

"Yes, come with me…"

And after a few more thrusts, Jack reached his climax, releasing into the latex as both of you let out deep moans, riding the waves of pleasure.

"Shit..." you gasped, a tear trickling down your cheek, overwhelmed by the intense sensation.

"Yeah..." Jack agreed, breathing into the crook of your neck, as he carefully withdrew and settled beside you, pulling you close for a sweaty cuddle, his arm wrapping under your neck, and he turned his head to meet your gaze.

"Are you alright?"

You couldn’t help but let out a light chuckle.

"Yes, Jack, I'm more than alright... that was incredible," you smiled at the hockey player.

"You have no idea how happy that makes me... y/n, you deserved to experience that pleasure," he took your hand and tenderly kissed it.

"Thank you, Jack, you really made me feel amazing..."

With wide smiles on both your faces, Jack then headed to the bathroom to dispose of the condom. And returning with a damp cloth for you to freshen up, he then followed by tucking you in for a cuddle. This was important to him, a crucial part of the whole experience, especially because you were his best friend, and he wanted you to know this wasn't just a casual fuck.

He showed genuine care, and you felt more than content and satisfied in his embrace.

#my asks #18+#jack hughes smut #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #nhl smut

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vhagarlovebot · 11 months

Text

BURNING DESIRE. — MIGUEL O’HARA.

summary: miguel can’t keep his hands off of you.

content warnings: 18+, kissing, biting, mentions of blood, daddy kink, fingering, swearing, muñeca means doll.

note: saw across the spiderverse yesterday and the miguel o’hara brainrot is real and couldn’t help myself. there’s a barely any plot, just horny thoughts. reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!

IT’S THE FIRST TIME that you and miguel are alone in almost a week. the past few days have been pure chaos, or is something supernatural threatening your respective universes or the kids wanting to hang out, leaving you and miguel unable to do anything by yourselves.

right now, you're on earth 1610—miles’ universe, waiting for the kids to finish something you don't really understand. the place you are in is cold and dark, and if it weren't for miguel by your side, you would be scared.

"are you cold?" miguel’s voice is barely a whisper, his face a combination of boredom, mud and dry blood.

you shake your head ‘no’, admiring his beautiful brown eyes. "just tired." you smile, and he smiles back at you. miguel brushes a strand of hair out of your face and behind your ear, thumb caressing your cheek.

miguel moves closer, the hint of a smirk on his face as you lean into his touch. he rests his forehead against yours and closes his eyes, and you use that as an opportunity to plant a chaste kiss on his lips.

"mh i liked that. do it again." he whispers and who are you to say no? you kiss him again, letting him feel how soft and warm your lips are against his.

"ugh, get a room!" you pull away quickly, heat rushing to your face, while miguel growls at hobie, who’s looking at you two, amused. “we've found it, come on."

you’re going to get up and follow the group when miguel stops you. his eyes have that spark you’ve seen a million times before, the one that tells you he's up to something. and before you even open your mouth to question him, his lips find their way to your neck.

your gaze goes to the door, begging that none of the kids turn around and come back for you, but your head goes blank the minute you feel him nipping and sucking along your hot skin. miguel hums, going up and up until he grabs your earlobe between his teeth.

a deep sigh leaves your lips when you feel his hand sliding under your shirt, covering your mouth to muffle a moan when he cups your breast.

“we really need to go.” you say, breathing heavily, but you don’t even make the attempt to pull away. it feels too good to make him stop.

miguel hisses, grabbing the back of your head and pressing his lips to yours, his tongue spreading them apart. he pushes you against the wall and you let out a pitiful moan when you feel how hard he is, hips moving by their own accord, seeking some friction.

“someone’s needy.” miguel teases you, fangs running along your jaw. you have no coherent thoughts in your mind, so the only answer you give him is another moan when he bucks his hips into you. “can you feel what you do to me?”

“miguel,” you whine, hands tugging at his hair. you don’t care if someone hears you anymore, you just want to feel him. “i want you to fuck me.” he gives you one particular hard thrust that has your cunt clenching around nothing.

“stay quiet, muñeca.” his breathing becomes labored, a desperate grunt leaving his lips when you sneak your hand down, palming him through his suit.

“please, miguel.”

“i can smell how wet you are.” he purrs, his large hand sliding down and into your pants. you mewl unintelligibly as his fingertips find your clit. “so fuckin’ desperate for my cock.” miguel ruts into you, fingers sliding down and right inside of you.

miguel looks into your glassy eyes and swollen lips from the searing kiss you just shared. he thinks that you’ve never look so beautiful. he curls his fingers just right and has you seeing stars; you can hardly think about anything other than how good he’s making you feel.

“miguel,”

he tsks, shaking his head. “try again.”

“daddy, daddy—”

“atta girl.” miguel runs his tongue along your bottom lip. “cum for daddy, i got you.”

and when you cum, it’s hard; eyes squeezing shut and legs shaking to the point that miguel has to wrap an arm around your waist to stop you from falling.

you’re barely aware of his fangs digging into your skin, enough to draw a little blood that has him fucking moaning when he tastes how salty and sweet you are.

“fffuck,” his head falls against your shoulders, pulling his fingers out of your pussy and bringing them to his mouth, licking them clean. “you alright, muñeca?”

you nod, giving him a tired smile. “yeah. good.” miguel chuckles, making sure you can stand on your own before pulling away.

“let’s get you home, ‘kay?” he says, raising his wrist and working on his watch. you can’t help but feel a pang in your chest, disappointment crossing your features.

“aren’t you going to…” you let the question hang in the air, too embarrassed to actually say the words.

miguel’s lips curve into a knowing smile. “i’m not done with you yet.” his promise rings in your ears as he pulls you to him. not even giving you time to warn the kids before you’re leaving.

#📮 ⌇ my works ˖⋆࿐#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #atsv x reader #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara smut #spiderman 2099 #spiderman x reader

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the-final-sif · 6 months

Text

I need to hop back into my transformers bullshit for just a moment because I don't think they've had much interaction in canon, but I think it'd be really really funny if Tarn was actually terrified of Starscream.

Like, I dunno if MTMTE/IDW canon has confirmed Starscream's immortal spark for that particular series, but I'm going to assume it carries over. If so, it'd make Tarn's power basically useless against him.

In my ideal headcanon, Tarn got sick of Starscream's shit at some point and went against Megatron to try to murder him. He tried to do this subtly using his voice only for it to 100% not work even a little bit. He would've had this whole build up where he got Starscream alone and was attempting to be a dramatic bitch about the whole thing and build up to the murder and then-

And then it just doesn't work and there's a really awkward pause where Starscream is looking around kind of expecting something to happen when literally nothing does. Tarn is trying to keep a normal conversation going now while also attempting the murder again and again just for it to literally do nothing. Eventually Starscream gets sick of him being weird and walks out judging the guy.

It'd be so fucking funny particularly because Starscream having an immortal spark is generally totally unknown, so Tarn would have to assume that Starscream had found some way to render his ability useless, which is terrifying. Tarn is now extremely worried that Starscream somehow had a spy and found out what he was planning to do ahead of time. He might've even been able to get something into Tarn's head somehow to know his plan this well. Clearly that level of genius must be part of why Megatron keeps him around. Tarn was a fool for having attempted to disobey, and Starscream was clearly not a problem he could solve like this. What if Starscream reports this clear disobedience to Megatron? Tarn just tried and failed to kill the second in command! Starscream would have every right to demand his execution if he so desired, or save this as blackmail!

Tarn is just out of his mind spinning conspiracy theories and getting super high levels of paranoia about Starscream. Just doing whatever he can to not have to be in the same place as the guy. He runs under the assumption he's being blackmailed by Starscream for his attempt and does what he can to not cross the seeker.

Meanwhile from Starscream's perspective, Tarn showed up and had a very weird conversation where he kept raising his voice at random times and then nothing happened. Then the guy freaked out and got even more weird about it. He has no idea why this happened. He has no idea that Tarn is hiding from him. He thought it was weird and stopped thinking about it after a few days. Starscream's minding his own business and mostly forgot about this entire thing after two weeks meanwhile Tarn is having a mental breakdown about it for years.

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gyummigon · 18 days

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like when we first met, i hate you and i love you | beomgyu

beomgyu x fem!reader | playlist

୨୧ word count: 6.8k ୨୧ genre: angst, slight smut ୨୧ warning: non-explicit sex (or so i think), unspecified mental disorders and illnesses, depressive thoughts, thoughts of death, thoughts of loneliness, verbal incitement to suicide, very mild violence (not dating violence), unstable and unhealthy relationship, emotional dependency, mild family strife, and lots and lots of anguish. i don't suggest reading to anyone under 18, in fact don't read it if you are under 18. ୨୧ a/n: writing this was a challenge, but i consider it to be one of the writings i put more of myself into. thank you in advance to the people who are encouraged to read, and i hope i will not disappoint you. my native language is not english, so i apologize for any errors or inconsistencies in the text. have a nice weekend!

It was easy for Beomgyu to feel trapped in his own mind, to mourn the days that were more than just lost; he swore that he remembered nothing of them, and yet they could bring him down at any moment.

He had spent nearly a quarter of his life living in hospital rooms, moving from one to another, but in the end remaining within the same four plain, pale walls. No matter how many times the morning came to him, or how long the night before, they meant nothing when all he could see was a ceiling that could only be distorted in the recesses of his mind.

On this particular morning, the ceiling he saw as he lay sprawled on his bed was not the usual one. The sun's rays struck him from a different direction, the comfort of the mattress was not what his body was accustomed to, and the gentle puff of your breath beside him sent his mind wandering to alternatives that would save him from his growing need to flee your uncomfortable presence.

Your situation was not entirely unfamiliar to you. You knew him too well to have any idea what was going through his mind. The guilt overflowed from the brown of his eyes and hit you almost as hard as the reality of waking up in the same situation again. As you felt the warmth of his body next to yours, you wished bitterly that he was a stranger, that way you could let him go without claiming the warmth you lost the moment nakedness stopped meaning anything.

"Beomgyu," you called him with an uncertain tone. You slid your head from the pillow to his chest and let his heartbeat against your ear flood your mind with fear. You wished you could control it and make it keep beating even if it wasn't for you. "Promise you won't let this happen again."

Beomgyu closed his eyes. The yellow color of your walls was too cheerful and always made him feel depressed.

"I'll visit you tomorrow," was his answer. He gently put your head back on the pillow and started to get up.

A lump in your throat kept you silent as the raw fragility of his nakedness escaped the sheets. Even as she finished dressing and turned to look at you, you kept your attention on the place farthest from her eyes, afraid to get too close and discover that there were demons lurking there.

You and Beomgyu met in seventh grade, in the fall of 2016, under the rays of a bright sun and the orange hue of the leaves of an old oak tree. He had just transferred to the same school as you, but with his bright and enthusiastic personality, he had no shortage of friends, attention, or the furtive glances your curiosity encouraged you to give him. The first time you spoke to each other was after an embarrassing skateboard fall at school, but a handshake and a few awkward smiles sparked a bond that made you inseparable.

Aside from similar musical tastes and an interest in hiking, you didn't have much in common and were constantly having not-so-serious discussions about your differences. It was this contrast that made Beomgyu so eager to spend time with you. You were the respite from his usual routine, the color that was missing from the memories in his mind; the shade that waited to protect him from the sun, even though you were completely unaware of his difficulties. And things should have stayed there, in an innocent and uncomplicated friendship, but your childish need for romance and his urge for compression turned you from friends to lovers in a matter of months.

It was an inevitable fact from the beginning. He was a young man full of life carrying a heavy secret, and you were a naive young woman who didn't know what she was getting into when he opened the doors of his heart and you walked right in. By now, after six years of relationship, both of your hearts were worn out and the constant barriers that Beomgyu's unstable mental health put between you widened a distance that even monotony could not close. Beomgyu felt his soul heavy and dirty even when he was near you, the color of your life itself made him feel like a gray stain, and the shadow that once comforted him now burned him every time he tried to cling to its coolness.

"If I don't come tomorrow, don't go to the hospital until you've finished your homework, okay?"

The pain hidden in your silence made Beomgyu feel miserable and almost made him give in to your earlier request. Promising you was the right thing to do, but with him being meaningless, purposeless and pretending, how could he control himself not to come back here?

"You'll be all right, won't you?" he heard you say in a weak, languid voice.

He couldn't do anything but look at your grieving body under the sheets. He felt terrible, like a piece of trash. Every time he looked at you, he realized how disgusting he was for coming here and making you do all those things. He wanted to get down on his knees and beg for your forgiveness and at the same time berate you for letting him do it, for giving him your body even though it made you both feel dirty.

"I love you."

He wasn't sure if those words came out of his mouth and reached you, maybe he had buried them, forgetting their meaning and now they were just a broken compass. What day was it, could he go on or back? Was this the end of the story or had it just begun?

He hated himself so much.

A small smile that didn't reach your eyes spread across your face, you pressed the sheet to your body and propped your knees up on the bed so you could touch him. "Will you be okay?" you repeated as you traced the softness of his cheek with your fingers.

In a losing battle against despair, Beomgyu leaned his face into your touch and closed his eyes. He could not stop pretending that you were not the vessel into which he poured his misery. Every word out of his mouth seemed to weigh tons and lying was the only way to be with you more than just physically.

"I'm trying."

"How long will you keep running away?"

Hearing you, Beomgyu opened his eyes and you sighed as the familiar feeling of fear and uncertainty washed over you as you looked into them. There was a heartbreaking fragility and desperation in them, the same one that was present every time he touched you and made love to you; the same one that remained when his lips moved slightly upward, giving you a faint glimpse of the hidden dimple on his cheek.

"I'm not running away, the hospital doors are always open."

"Beomgyu." You tried to sound stern, but the quiver in your voice at the mention of his name was noticeable.

"Don't worry," he murmured, putting his hands over yours to pull them away from his face. "You have enough burden with school, so avoid distractions and study hard, okay?"

"Then don't come back here, please."

"I'm so sorry." Beomgyu, with his eyes closed and a lump in his throat, placed a hand on your head and pulled you close to him to plant a kiss on your forehead. "Get some sleep before you go to school."

A helpless expression appeared on your face as Beomgyu gently stroked your hair before pulling away. You closed your eyes and bit your lower lip to stifle any more pathetic pleas from your mouth, listening to his every footstep taking him away from you.

An impulse made Beomgyu turn on his heels and look at you again. For some reason, when he saw the way you hugged yourself and closed your eyes tightly, a deep urge to die washed over him from head to toe. He thought he owed it to you after all he had put you through, that there was no other way to give you a chance to escape him.

With a sigh, he took one last look at you and turned his feet toward the exit of your room, offering you the only comfort of his absence and his silence.

And as every time you watched him leave, you felt that he took a piece of your soul with him.

"You have to stop for a moment." You heard Hanna say as you both walked to your next class.

Walking across campus carried a weight that felt thicker in that moment. The weight of the morning was reflected in every step you took, shuffling your feet with the characteristic reluctance of one who has crossed an already too long college day.

Your path to your next class is a routine one, but you have never been able to get used to the distance between one classroom and the next. As you made your way along the path of worn bricks and open spaces where the bustle of students mixed with the sound of car engines, you felt overwhelmed and anxious to get home as soon as possible.

"Take a break." Despite the weight of her guitar on her back and the art portfolio occupying her hands, Hanna moved forward beside you with lighter steps, keeping a calm tone in her voice. "You're starting to rub off on me with your negativity, if you're too tired to study then rest."

You sighed and looked at the time on your watch, your class had started five minutes ago and you still had a long way to go to get to the building where the class was.

"You just don't get it, I rest every day even when I shouldn't," you said as you picked up your pace and Hanna mimicked you without any difficulty.

"Procrastination is not rest, you have to really relax."

If your breathing hadn't been so fast due to the intensity of the walk, you would have sighed. From your perspective, the situation was more complicated. Your current emotional state was beginning to affect your academic performance, and you hated it. As a student of letters and a lover of reading, you had never fallen so far behind in your academic reading and homework. You were used to reading for school as much as for yourself, but in the last few weeks, it was impossible to even hold a book without being a matter of time or will. You couldn't find the concentration to be yourself anywhere, and you feared that if you didn't overcome the block and regain some focus, you would have to drop out of your classes before you failed.

The thought of doing poorly in school made you feel absolutely worthless and nervous.

"I'll try to change, just... don't tell Beomgyu. He's been a little intense lately about the idea that I'm doing well here."

"Why, is he pressuring you or something?"

You paused and thought about all the times Beomgyu told you to stay focused in school, to study hard and get the best grades. It always seemed to you that he said it in a sad rather than a demanding way.

"No, but the situation has been difficult since his relapse," you replied.

Hanna looked at you for a moment with her big, thoughtful eyes before she let out a sigh. "Y/n, since I met you your relationship has been difficult."

"As long as he was under observation he would study online, but he became an irregular student. I guess that's thwarted his plans a lot and knowing my current situation will probably make him sensitive..." you tried to explain in a hurry, but stopped yourself when you couldn't ignore the little conviction in your words. Hanna gave you a reassuring smile and maneuvered her hands to free one of her arms for a few seconds and wrap it around yours. Both your legs slowed in unison and your body relaxed as you tilted your head and rested it on her shoulder. "Do you love him?"

Her question didn't surprise you, but you let a few minutes of silence pass between you before answering. For some reason, it was always difficult to talk about your relationship with Beomgyu; either they didn't understand it at all, or they understood it too much that you started to get the pity treatment.

"Of course."

"As a boyfriend? I mean, do you love him romantically, not as a person you've known since puberty?"

You turned your head away from Hanna's shoulder and brought your gaze to an imprecise point in front of you. It wasn't always up and down with Beomgyu, the stability you both once had and kept you both so alive was as tentative as the current instability, the love manifested was as strong as the doubts. What did it matter how you loved him now, there was no way to know that it would make a difference. The two of you were bound together by more than love, you had a history with too many loose ends to tie up, words whispered in silence that needed to be heard and answered, wounds deep enough to choose to bleed without trying to close them. Yes, the distance was frightening, but you weren't defeated, you could take what you needed from each other to survive, and that wasn't necessarily wrong.

Except for the fact that neither of you were alive.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," Hanna's voice broke through your thoughts and brought you back to reality. You let out a sigh, each question weighing you down with exhaustion. "I just... I want to understand you."

"Does he seem bad to you?" you replied without a hint of anger or concern.

"No, I like Beomgyu, I just... since I know him, he's kind of scary to me."

"No, gosh... He's... the nicest, most sensitive guy I've ever met."

"Not that type of scary."

When you heard these words, you felt frustrated. You didn't understand, even though you were also scared, you didn't understand what it was that Beomgyu reflected when he was with you that you couldn't see; because you were also absolutely terrified and couldn't identify the cause.

"He's fine, Hanna."

"And I'm so glad, but what about you?

You wished you could answer that question without your heart trembling with hesitation, but you were at a point where you doubted even your own words. What your mouth was saying and what Hanna could surely read in your eyes were contradictory things. If only you could have at least known which was true...

"I'm fine, okay?"

Your eyes glided over each word on the page with an almost exaggerated slowness, you had read the same paragraph over and over again in the last few minutes, your head was throbbing and fatigue irritated your eyes, but they were not the reason for your lack of concentration, at least not the main one.

Beomgyu sat a meter away from your desk, and you could feel his attention on every twitch of your facial muscles, on the movements of your hands, on the restless tapping of your foot on the floor. Those silences were the ones you hated the most to share with him, they made you insecure and any chance to approach him in a way that didn't make you feel suffocated slipped through your fingers.

You closed the book with a sigh and turned in your chair to look at him. The dark circles under his eyes hardly surprised you, they seemed as dull as the last times you saw him, barely a spark to show they were still screaming inside.

"Are you done?" he asked, slurring his words, but you were sure he already knew the answer.

"I'm tired," you replied instead as you stood up and sought a safer position on your bed, away from his eyes.

"Me too..."

You sighed as you saw him shrink back into the chair and averted your eyes to the floor. You couldn't shake the desire to be silent that came over you every time you saw him, even you couldn't describe the feeling, it made you sick, afraid to say the wrong thing, to push down the hopes he could barely hold in his hands. You were so afraid of breaking him. Despite your caution, you admitted that you were one of those guilty of endangering the stability of the thin rope he was walking, because as long as you were together, you would be the person Beomgyu held his hand and led him to discover the worst ways to sabotage him. It was as if he was testing your criminal mind and inviting you to watch from the front row as he murdered his own dreams and hopes for life.

You snapped out of your thoughts as you felt the weight of his body sink into the mattress. You turned your face in his direction, slightly dazed as you watched him kick off his shoes and curl up into a ball under your sheets. You sighed, not resisting the urge to bring a hand up to his face and caress his cheek, the way you knew he liked it.

"Lie down," he asked you in his little whisper.

There he was, like a ghost in the darkness, looking at you with a longing that made your body tremble. Though he was overflowing with an inexhaustible weariness, and his features bore the nostalgia of the stars that once shone, he was heartbreakingly beautiful. His smooth skin had the feel of a misunderstood canvas, his eyes, deep and enigmatic, carried unreadable pleas. It was sadness embodied in the skin of an ethereal being, unable to be torn away.

Your eyes closed unconsciously as Beomgyu leaned towards you after you obeyed his words, hiding his face in the curve between your neck and shoulder. The warmth of his body was always overwhelming, but his words had the power to slip between the trembling crevices of your heart and freeze its beating at will.

"I miss you..." he murmured against your skin, the roughness of his fingers clinging to your hips and his nose sliding along your collarbone, enveloping your skin with his breath and stealing layers of your scent. "I miss you so much."

How many times had he said those words to you? You wanted to scream at him that you were here, that you hadn't gone anywhere, that he had you, that nothing would tear you from his side, but even you weren't sure of that anymore.

"Me too, babe," you replied, lowering your face to his as his eyes sought yours. Damn it, you thought, it will happen again.

Within minutes, Beomgyu's lips left your neck and traced a path down your belly. Silently, you gave his hands permission to roam beneath your clothes, to trace the curves of your breasts and massage your soft flesh. More than one sigh was stolen from your mouth as his fingers slid to the pointy centre of your breasts, sending a stream of emotion through the gentle pressure. You couldn't explain the emotion that was marked by the trace of his touch on your skin, it wasn't lust, it wasn't need, it wasn't passion, but it was soft and comfortable, just enough to seem like love, just enough to reduce the agony and inappetence of longing to something subtle.

You whispered his name and cupped his face in your hands to draw him to you. Despite the suffocating emotion in the air, your bodies met in an anxious embrace, seeking solace and a cure for the raw hopelessness they could only express through gestures and silent caresses. The weight of his lips against your forehead made you close your eyes, almost begging him to never let go. Your lips ached with the need that filled them as the cold enveloped your body and replaced your clothes. But he did not kiss your lips, though they cried out in supplication, nor did you kiss his, knowing you would find the bitter taste of apology in them.

You also helped him get rid of his clothes. You imitated his lack of shame and suppressed any negative emotions that would make you believe that seeing and touching him as you did was wrong. How could it be so wrong when you had Beomgyu in your hands, gentle, vulnerable and intense? Trembling sounds escaped his throat and bound your hands, begging for more. His hands tightened around you, his fingers sliding down each side of your neck and his thumbs pressing against the softest, most vulnerable part of your shoulders. You leaned into his direction, letting his warm breath brush against your ear.

"My sweet Y/n..." Despite your skepticism that such a thing was possible, the sweetness in his voice made you believe that he really could feel the lost, that your body and voice could soothe his pain.

You kissed his hips with your fingertips, touching the roughness of his bones, holding him close as he wriggled against your touch. He responded just as sharply and slid one hand over your belly and the other between your legs where he pressed his fingers to your most sensitive spot, where pain and pleasure intertwined and sent a tightening sensation to your chest. "Beomgyu..."

"Shhh... it's okay." He took hold of your knees and, as if he had forgotten his own frailty, he exposed you and adjusted your position for him. Your eyes sought his, eager to hold on to something, to reassure you that it wasn't a stranger touching you; to remind you that all was well, that you were safe. You wanted to find security and familiarity away from this quiet, reserved, sleepy version of himself, you wanted a smile of encouragement, one that would light up the night but not set the moon on fire.

Beomgyu held your waist, preventing the involuntary, violent jerks of your pelvis. You swallowed saliva, dizzy and anticipating the raw invasion of his being inside you.

"What's wrong?" you asked as you watched him look at you motionlessly.

"You're not wet enough."

"It's okay, just do it."

Beomgyu's lips brushed your cheek, his voice a whisper in your ear as he leaned closer. "I just want you to relax," he said. "Let me take care of everything."

With a gentle tug around your waist, he sank you deeper into the bed, your head back against the softness of the pillow as he parted his body from yours to give him an open path for his hand to the shy, sensitive place between your legs. His fingers traced the inside of your thighs and slid down to the slit of your crotch, where he made circular motions with his fingertips for a few seconds before penetrating you.

You closed your eyes and gasped for air. It was as if he was lulling you and slapping you at the same time. Part of you wanted to take it with or without pain because you didn't think you could take it much longer; another part of you, the more disillusioned part of you, wished it was him who gave up and ran away. You tried, you really hoped it would work. For a while, sex had been the relief for this raw ache, but nothing really cured it. No matter how many nights you devoted your body to Beomgyu's desires, there would always be a night when you would lock yourself in your room and cry for all that he lacked, for all that you couldn't give him, for all that you didn't want to give him. And he would know, he always noticed these things, the tears burning under the flesh of your cheeks. But he would not caress your heart as you cried, nor would his hands wrap around you as your mind and soul had done a thousand times with him. For Beomgyu would still be miserable, and neither you nor he was ready for him not to drag you down with him.

Your body responded to the demands of Beomgyu's fingers and gave him what they were looking for. He clung to you as if he didn't want you to escape. You could feel his muscles tense and tremble, his breath in your ears, his heartbeat and breath on your skin. It was the only thing you could hold on to so that you wouldn't collapse right there.

Beomgyu slid back, his fingers suddenly far away from the spot between your legs. The feeling of his emptiness inside you was such a familiar pain that you almost reached out for him for a moment, but the caress of his lips on your shoulder and that voice you missed so much brought your focus back to him.

"You're not leaving, are you?" he asked as he slid slowly and carefully inside you.

You didn't answer, you both already knew the answer.

The silence in the room was overwhelming. You were lying on the bed, minutes had passed since your breathing had returned to normal, and now the only sound in the room was the pattering of the rain against the glass of your window. The sweat had dried on your skin and the sheets; your muscles, now relaxed, felt a slight sense of fatigue that made you want to stay in bed.

You looked at Beomgyu's back and traced the curve of his posture with the pad of your index finger. The delicate contours of his vertebrae were illuminated under the dim light of your desk lamp, lacking muscular strength, with a fragility palpable in every stroke your finger outlined.

"Don't come back tomorrow."

"Y/n..." he said in a vague form of protest, but you cut him off before he could say anything else. "I have an exam and I really need to study.

I'll visit you on Friday." There was a minute of silence in which you thought he would try to protest, but he just nodded.

"Well, uhm... Are you hungry?"

"Not really."

"You're thinner."

"Maybe."

"Have they been feeding you well?" He gave you a sideways glance and raised his shoulders reluctantly. "It's hard, I have no appetite."

"Hospital food is terrible, isn't it?"

"I guess."

You sighed and looked at the back of his head as if you could see through it.

"It's not the kind of food we were made for," you replied, trying to lighten the mood. Beomgyu finally moved, turned around and his head landed right on your chest. You could feel his hands touching your ribs, his lips in your hair, your feet on his. "I could make you some fried rice," you continued. "So you can eat something."

"It's okay, just stay with you. I don't need any-"

Your eyebrows furrowed as he interrupted himself. He had raised his gaze and was now staring at you.

"What's wrong?"

"You look pretty."

Pretty.

The mood in the room changed when he said those words. You held your breath. Everything around you seemed weaker, as if it would fall apart at the wrong sound. You wanted to speak, but you dared not, out of weakness, your absurd cowardice, to show what you were thinking inside. You didn't feel beautiful. You didn't feel loved. Oh, what a relief it would have been to be able to express it to him at that moment, what a different and less complicated way it would have been not to wait for your surroundings to collapse in order to tell him all that you were hiding inside. Maybe if habit did not keep you silent when misery hovers around you, maybe if darkness was not the only stimulus urging you to seek the light, maybe you would have said it.

I feel lonely.

"Let's cook something, you know, like old times, but this time without burning anything. Let's make gimbap, but not just any gimbap. We can look up my grandmother's recipe, remember? I made it once for your birthday, haven't made it since, but I don't think I've lost the touch. The recipe has to be out there somewhere. My mother..."

"Okay," he interrupted, surprising you with a kiss on the cheek. "Forget the gimbap, fried rice is fine."

"Do you... do you want to join me or would you rather stay here and rest?"

"It's okay, your sister could meet me any minute."

"I'll be back in a few minutes."

With an overwhelming hope growing in your chest, you left your room and went to the kitchen. The house was plunged into a terrible silence and you had to fight the urge to return to the room, knowing that you would not find a warmer atmosphere inside. But the silence didn't last long, just as Beomgyu had predicted, Leah, your older sister, closed the front door as you finished descending the last flight of stairs. You were wearing only a plus size t-shirt and your panties, so you weren't surprised by the annoyed look she gave you.

"Looks like the rain caught up with you after work."

"He's here, isn't it?"

You weren't even surprised that she ignored your attempts to start a conversation away from Beomgyu. You rolled your eyes and headed for the kitchen without looking at her. "Oh, not again, Leah."

"That bastard," you heard her curse as she nipped at your heels. "He thinks he can do whatever he wants to you because of his illness?"

"He didn't do anything to me."

"That's the problem, y/n. In your opinion, he never does anything."

"Mind your own business, Leah." You told her as you tried your best to look busy, moving your hands around the closet, but the truth was your hands couldn't even remember what they were looking for. You opened one of the cabinets, then another. By the third, you felt a little discouraged, so you opened the fourth. Your hands began to despair, until finally a small package of rice wrapped in plastic caught your eye. You gently picked it up and placed it in your lap as you pulled a wooden stool closer to the side of the counter and sat down.

"I'm minding my own business." She replied, standing behind you for a few moments, a tense silence settling between the two of you, and you didn't dare look her in the eye. You felt a pang of embarrassment.

"Leave me alone."

Leah took one of your hands and forced you to face her. "You know I don't like to keep quiet when it comes to this, I didn't before, I won't now. Even if my words are in vain, even if I don't have the right to tell you what to do, I won't swallow my disapproval of you continuing this story in which you are clearly not a heroine. You are a fool, just like mom, don't you see? You witnessed her long years of misery for what? To repeat history? What is broken only hurts."

"Stop." You pulled her hand hard. "This is between Beomgyu and me, no one else has any part in this. How many times do I have to explain myself to you?

Leah let out a frustrated sigh, she seemed to be debating your words and your back stiffened as you waited for her next attack, but the tension in your body turned to surprise when you felt her hand tugging at the collar of your shirt.

"Leah!" you screamed, but your attempts to push her away faltered as you became aware of what she was looking at with such displeasure. You didn't even remember the purple marks on your collarbone, they were old and therefore barely noticeable, but her sharp eyes hadn't missed them and her expression made it clear that he knew who the culprit was; which was just one more reason to increase her displeasure.

"I'm going to... God, that idiot..." After a few seconds of silence, you heard her sigh and turn away. You felt your stomach sink. "Is he upstairs?"

"Leah, don't..."

Your reflexes were fast, but not fast enough to catch her before she came out of the kitchen. Less than a meter from the stairs, your fingers clutched at her clothes, perhaps too tightly, perhaps so desperately that it left your sister and you in disbelief.

You thought of Beomgyu waiting for you in your room, vulnerable and feeble with his own thoughts. Maybe he agreed to let you cook for him because he wanted to be alone, maybe he called you pretty because it was easier than saying anything else. Maybe you loved him and it wasn't right. Maybe you hated him and he knew it. Maybe you took his sadness for granted, or maybe you should have understood that he wasn't worth it. But there was more, something darker than all possible answers, something you suspected but were afraid to admit to yourself, afraid to face it.

Beomgyu didn't need you, it was you who needed him.

Your hand loosened its grip on Leah's clothes and you stepped back. A tremor went through your body as you looked down at your hands, suddenly afraid of yourself, your own demons. "I'm sorry, just... leave him alone."

For a few seconds you thought she would say something, argue, scream, or just try to move on as if she didn't hear you. She did none of these things, instead she turned back to the stairs and said those words that hit every sensitive nerve in your body.

"If your disease doesn't kill you soon, you should kill yourself."

At first, her words were like an attack that you couldn't digest for the first few seconds. They hurt, they stole your breath, and you heard the crackling of something weak, something sensitive breaking; but it was only when you saw where the attack was directed that fear and a searing anxiety invaded your body and made your knees fight against a wrenching weakness.

"Leah!" the scream tore at your throat.

Beomgyu was standing on the stairs when he met your sister's gaze. His jaw was clenched, but his tired expression made him look almost expressionless. But he wasn't. He was shaking, more than you. He was suffering, more than you. He had never looked so small, so fragile, so far away. And you had never felt so helpless, so frightened, so unaware of your impulses.

"How... how can you say such a thing?" Your palms slapped Leah's back, once, twice, three times, as if to force her to spit out an answer. You were distraught, desperate, about to burst into tears. "How can you be a human being and say such a thing? How can you be my sister and..."

"'Whoa, whoa, take it easy... Just calm down..." Beomgyu's arms, who seemed to have rushed down the stairs at full speed at the first of your attacks, wrapped around your waist and pulled you back. You tried to pull him away, even though you had no intention of returning to your sister, but he clung to you tightly. "Come on, outside."

You didn't resist as he led you outside your house. His hands released you only when he closed the door behind him and you turned to him with a pleading expression. Beomgyu said nothing but shook his head in a gesture you could not decipher and the fear that shook every part of your body could not have been worse.

Silence.

You parted your lips, desperately wanting to say something, anything, but nothing came out. Beomgyu gave you a dejected smile and shrugged his shoulders, a gesture he always made when he wanted to play things down and cheer you up. You had to look away to keep from collapsing.

The raindrops on the pavement were bright white under the streetlights. The streets were empty, the only sounds being your accelerated breathing, the pattering of the rain, and the rustle of the trees in the wind. The air was tinged with damp bark and earthy moss, a smell that for the first time you found more devastating than comforting.

"I'm going home, back inside."

Your breath caught in your lungs and you made an incredible effort to get the words out of your mouth. 'If your disease doesn't kill you soon, you should kill yourself'. These words kept going over and over and over in your mind. How could your sister tell him that, how could she even think about it? Beomgyu, who had lived in a body full of anxiety, instability, impulsiveness, confusion, and paranoia since he was sixteen. Beomgyu, who had to live with an incurable diagnosis and inexhaustible medication. Beomgyu, in whose confused mind, behind a thick layer of emotions, there was only a genuine desire to be loved, accepted and valued by himself and others. Beomgyu, insecure, bright, dull, happy, depressed, who started a new war against himself every day. If your sister had known all this, would she have said those cruel words? If your sister had seen the sharp, cutting impact that melted into Beomgyu like a heavy anchor that prevented any hope from floating, would she really have stayed at home so calmly?

"She doesn't know what she said," you whispered, lifting your gaze from the floor to look deep into his eyes. "She's... selfish, arrogant, completely irrational. She thinks she knows you. They think they know you. But they don't know anything about you! They don't know you like I do, no one...no one..."

"It's okay."

"Nobody does."

"I know." Beomgyu took your face in his hands, his intense eyes never leaving yours. "You know me better than anyone."

"Stay."

Beomgyu shook his head sadly.

"No, I..."

"I love you."

Your interruption seemed to shake the ground beneath Beomgyu's feet. The boy sighed shakily and leaned his forehead against yours. His eyes, now wet and shiny like the concrete of the long avenue, were hidden under his eyelids and closed with the force of something burning to be seen.

"Do you sometimes... do you sometimes not have the urge to die together? To throw us in a lake and drown? Something like that?"

A sob escaped your throat and your hands cupped his cheeks, almost as if you were holding his heavy soul with the edge of your fingernails to keep him from slipping from your grasp. Nothing was ever more frustrating. "No, God, of course not, how can you say such a thing? I want nothing more than to live by your side, to synchronize your heart with mine, to hear you breathe, to see you smile... I want to calm you down and for you to calm me down. I want to survive with you.

Beomgyu let out a soft snort that resembled an attempt at laughter. "Always giving me the cold shoulder. Go back inside, you'll catch a cold."

Your hands grabbed his clothes. You didn't want to let go, your whole being told you not to, not to let him go, not like that, not with those words still echoing in his head. Beomgyu gently pushed your hands away and you trembled. You were afraid for everything, for him, for yourself, for the future. You feared his departure and that he would become unreachable. For the first time, you feared that you didn't love him.

Beomgyu's breathing was steady now, only the faint, clear outline of his body pressed against your chest told you that he was still there, still present. "I'm scared," you whispered.

"Me too."

"Will I see you tomorrow?"

"Friday, I'll see you Friday."

"You promise?"

"I promise."

Finally, you stepped back, still wanting to say many things, but lacking the right repository of words to get them out. Beomgyu hesitated for a moment, his mouth opened slightly as if he wanted to speak. But he didn't. You took a deep breath and stepped back again, your face blank and your hands hanging limply at your sides. Your lips trembled, but then, almost out of nowhere, you smiled. It wasn't a happy smile, nothing like that, given the situation. It was desperation eating away at your life, the wind hitting your body and telling you how empty your hands were now. It was Beomgyu, tired and in pain, making his way into the distance.

You smiled even more when the sky began to rain.

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turtleblogatlast · 22 days

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I honestly love the clothing styles of each of the turtles in this show and I love how these styles really incorporate their personalities as well.

Like, obviously Donnie has the best sense of style, yeah? Think that’s something pretty agreed upon here. Everything we see him put together is very meticulously crafted and clean. That goes with his personality because Donnie is a very meticulous person in general, and he knows what he likes very, very well, and knows how to flaunt it in turn. Him commenting on colors he enjoys or disapproving of outfits that the others see no problem with also shows how he just generally has an eye for this kind of thing. He doesn’t just know what looks good on himself, but also what looks good on others - and I think this ties into his love of gift giving too. Donnie also has a flair for making sure that his things have his “mark” on them, and his clothing is no exception. All that he wears and how he wears them screams “Donnie.”

Mikey is really fun because his styles are honestly a pendulum between super simplistic and incredibly out there. And often, you’re going to see a lot of color or patterns to both. And in my opinion I think that all reflects really well on Mikey’s character - he’s got a colorful personality but even more than that he’s incredible sure of who he himself is. Mikey’s style, I feel, is less what looks good as clothes and more what sparks joy in Mikey himself. His bright stickers he wears are a testament of that! He’s comfortable in his own skin and his style reflects this perfectly, whether he goes for a more out-there look or a more toned down one.

Now, for Leo. Okay, I think I’m actually in the minority here I feel because Leo’s style isn’t really that bad? Hear me out- if you actually look at what he wears, try taking out, like, one accessory. Suddenly, that outfit works! He even manages to put together many good outfits in the series, but his “bad” ones are the ones that tend to stand out, alas (just like how his mistakes tend to be big ones oop-) Basically, my personal look at him is not that he’s inept at styling at all, but that he has a “too much” gene. And like everyone else, this sense of style is completely like him, too. Going too far to impress when all he needed to do was slow it down some to think things through. (And funnily enough, a lot of his outfits take random aspects from his brothers too - “nothing without them” huh?)

For Raph, I feel bad for him since pretty much all of his clothes are inevitably going to be ripped, but he makes them work pretty much each time. Like Leo, Raph tends to go more sporty with his looks, but I also noticed that his stuff often goes in that in between of comfy, cool, and cute. His pajama suit in particular comes to mind in terms of “cute” as it’s more something you’d see younger children in rather than older kids, and I think it can be a subtle nod to the fact that for all Raph tries to seem older, he’s still just a kid too.

I could probably go on, but these are just all off the top of my head - I love how the boys’ personality’s come out in so many different ways.

#rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt headcanons #rise donnie #rise leo #rise mikey #rise raph #I love fashion actually #if you’re wondering where this came from it came from me watching hours of outfit creation vids #but yeah! I honestly could probably go more into it #but I’m going off my memory for the most part rip #Leo in particular makes me sad because I disagree with like 99% of the fandom about his fashion sense LOL #I don’t think it’s bad but it’s def not close to Donnie level #Donnie is his own category #Leo though he’s not just jerseys and ripped sleeves #he wears full eye makeup as a granny and kills doing it #his pirate costume was very well put together imo #even his regular weird frog like disguise is perfectly fine when you get rid of the goggles #I ALSO don’t think Raph’s style is bad either #my boy has more difficulty with clothes since he’s limited to the stretchier stuff but like #he’s got good style!!#I’m def looking more into this all than necessary but #watch me come back to this and change it like fifty times #if you’re wondering what I mean about Leo’s outfits taking from his brothers #look at Raph’s standard disguise (the one they go out to play basketball with)#ripped sleeves and a backward cap #one of Leo’s main outfits in The Clothes Don’t Fit the Turtle?#ripped sleeves and backwards cap #incedentally these borrowed aspects actually hinder his overall look!#his outfit without them is more HIM y’know? which says a lot about allll their individual styles

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astraystayyh · 11 months

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Jeongin x reader. Hurt/comfort. Reader is sad and doesn't know why.

You are curled around yourself in a ball.

Nothing happened in particular. You don't even remember when you started feeling this way. But suddenly all you knew was the tightness in your chest, and the overwhelming need to be home.

Home wasn't the four walls you've lived in for what feels like forever. But the strong arms of your boyfriend Jeongin. But he was still at work, and you couldn't find it in you to text him. What would you even say? I miss you. I don't know what I'm feeling. This house is too bare without you. Please come to me.

And you knew he'd come. You knew he'd drop his work and come running to you, because he loved you. He's told you and shown you countless times, again and again. But you couldn't tear him away from his responsibilities. You couldn't be selfish about his love for you.

So you stay curled around yourself in a ball, your arms tightly hugging your knees. You want to cry, but it feels as if the tears in your body are like dried ink. You squeeze your eyes shut, but nothing comes out. And you are left there begging for a release, for something, anything to lift off this horrible weight off your chest.

An hour has gone by, then two, then three. Your arms are numb, and your eyes ache from staring ahead at nothing for so long. Jeongin is home now, you can hear him placing down his keys on the tray you made together in one of your pottery dates. But you can't find it in you to call out to him. You've sat in silence for so long, you were almost afraid of what would happen if you were to disrupt it.

"Baby?" Jeongin calls out when he opens the door to your bedroom, and you want to see him. You want to snap your head towards him, but it's as if your body has a mind of its own. You can't move. You are crushing down under the weight of this unreasonable sadness.

"My love?" he tries again as he gently climbs on top of the bed. His warm hand rests on your thigh and the contact startles you- as if you were under a spell that his touch just broke. Suddenly, ugly sobs are heaving through your body, and his name spills out of your mouth like a broken plea.

"I'm here, I'm here," he rapidly says, wrapping his arms around your figure as best as he can, trying his hardest to contain the sadness overflowing from you. He's whispering something in your ear and you strain to hear it- it's getting lost between the thousands of voices swimming around in your head.

"I'm here. You are okay. I'm here," he repeats, his tone more urgent, "It's okay. You are okay. I promise," he doesn't stop talking. His deep voice travels across your body, and rests on your every atom, reverberating endlessly within you.

"I need you," you finally manage to utter. You don't know what you need. You still don't know what sparked all of this. Where was all of these feelings hiding for so long? But Jeongin knows. He'll know for you.

"You got me. I'm not going anywhere," his voice is assured and it calms your frenzy for a bit. He's your home. He'll stay with you. You'll figure it out together.

You are still curled around yourself in a ball, and Jeongin is curled around you. Your chest is snug against his back, and your thighs are against his knees, and his hands are on top of yours. He's all encompassing, holding you so tightly to him, leaving no room for sadness to exist between the two of you.

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bhaalbaaby · 7 months

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Title: Star Stained Eyes Like Flames (2434 words) Pairing: gale/reader Warnings: nsfw, magic sex, gn!reader A/N: was thinking about mage hands and enchanted underwear and got carried away. tried to make the reader more gender-neutral :")

Read on AO3!

Gale is particular about his undergarments and won't let you wash them. You don't ask questions as it's one less thing for you to take care of during your rest. Blood is hard to get out of armor, but you try your damnedest. You don't want to walk around with the blood of your enemies stinking on your skin. People in the wilderness probably wouldn't care, but you do.

As you gather everyone's clothes, you approach Gale's tent. He's reading a book, his regular clothes already on, and himself already bathed. You see his mage hand is at work washing his other clothes, among them his special purple underwear.

"No need for your assistance today, my friend," Gale says as he closes his book. "I do appreciate your hard work, however."

You smile as you nod, "Good to know. I do have a question." You let your curiosity get the best of you, the question on your mind anyway. Gale smiles back, putting his book away as he leans forward, eagerly waiting. "Always here for you."

You wonder if he thinks you're going to ask about his magical ability to do his chores and if he could teach you. How mistaken he is. "Why won't you let me wash your underwear?"

His eyebrow raises as he rapidly blinks, his mouth suddenly dry. His tongue swipes his lips quickly as he shakes his head. "It is not a slight at your handiwork, (Y/N). Quite the opposite." He raises his hand, a shy smile coming to his lips. "Let's just say old habits die hard. Used to do my own back at my Tower in Waterdeep."

Old habits, eh? You don't believe him, examining his posture. "Did you enchant them?" The question leaves your mouth before you realize what you're asking.

Was Gale that lonely? Did he really do that? You know Wizards were crafty with their magic but for pleasure? It never crosses your mind until he acts so weird about them. The others let you wash their clothes without a question, with nothing to hide. It's the only thing you can think of that he'd be embarrassed about. What if you washed the magic away accidentally and he, Gods forbid, has to wear underwear without being aroused?

The idea amuses you as you see his cheeks immediately turn red. "(Y/N)! Why would you even think that?!"

You don't have to answer, his reply giving it away. "Would you enchant mine?" You ask with a cheeky smile, thinking about phantom touches between your thighs, coaxing you closer and closer, the messes you would need to clean later.

Gale clears his throat as he shakes his head. "No! I will not. That is forbidden magic." It's a lie, but you don't press him, seeing the slight tenting in his pants. His tunic covers the majority as he shifts. "I see," you say, nodding, lifting the basket higher. "Well, if you need any help with your... Enchantments... I may be willing to assist." You tease as you walk away, imagining the underwear activates, helping relieve himself.

When nighttime comes, Gale comes to your tent. You're outside of it tonight, mostly watching the sky. The stars are bright tonight, and everything feels like it will be okay. The tadpole in your mind is quiet, no calls for the Absolute. You stand when he approaches, his hands behind his back. "Hello, (Y/N). I've been thinking."

The corners of your mouth perk up, a smirk on your lips. He's always thinking, but you wonder if your comments spark something more carnal that even his enchantments can't handle. "Go on," You say, crossing your arms.

He clears his throat. "I can enchant your undergarments, but I do not wish for the others to know."

Your eyes dance, "I won't tell. I just want to know how it feels is all. It must make things more intense." You muse as you let your eyes drop to his groin.

He steps away, taking a deep breath. "It's on command. It's not random." Gale explains, his voice lowering. "I can explain more, not here. Not with eavesdropping ears." He offers his hand to you.

You glance around at your companions who have either disappeared into their tents or are busy with their things. You take his hand, wondering where he'll take you. "Lead the way then."

In the clearing, he relaxes. "It's a simple spell. I learned it back in school from older kids when the teacher wasn't looking." Gale starts and waves his hands as he talks. You rest against a tree, listening. "Juvenile, but comes in handy when you're alone and need something more than your... hands."

In the darkness, you can make out that he's nervous speaking about this. "You don't have to tell me Gale." You say, not wanting him to do it just because you teased him.

He scoffs, "I want to tell you. You and I will be on this journey to defeat the Absolute for a little while and I know it can get frustrating being so pent up and no relief."

You smile, shrugging. "There's Lae'zel... And maybe even Astarion." You tease again standing with your legs more apart.

His eyes drop to between your thighs and he whispers something you can't make out. It's soft touches at first on your inner thighs, gently caressing to your pelvis, ignoring the parts of you that need it most. You gasp as you keep your legs apart, your feet planted in the ground.

"And there's Gale." He adds out loud, stepping closer as his enchantment goes over your groin, your heart skipping beats. You curse under your breath as you nod, looking over at him.

"Shall I continue or do you wish for it to stop?" He asks, still not physically touching you.

"C-can I control yours?" You ask, rolling your hips with his phantom touch, swelling in the magic.

Gale chuckles as he continues, rubbing you off. Your legs tremble as you close your eyes, feeling him getting closer. "I much rather have the real thing," He whispers in your ear. You close your eyes, letting your hands rub against his cock. He groans in your ear as his enchantment intensifies, the touch feeling so real. Your legs squeeze together as you start to pant, breathing quickening. You lean up, pressing your lips against his. His kiss is quick as he pulls again, grinding against your thigh. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, adjusting to have him pressed against the magic between your thighs.

You rest your head on your hand as you try to quiet your moans, the caresses bringing you so close, but you need a release. There is only so much the underwear can do. You let go of him, peeling your pants down.

You get on your knees, tugging his pants down. His enchantment stops momentarily as if short-circuiting as you slowly pull his cock out. You smile up at him as you see his chest rise and fall faster. Your tongue runs along his thick length, lapping at the extra skin around his tip that peeks out. You open your mouth, slowly taking his cock down as far as you can. He grunts, as you feel the enchantment massage your ass, the fingers finding your hole and gently prodding.

Your eyes open as your moans are muffled around him. You didn't think they could do that, but you welcome the change as you rock your hips trying to match your mouth pace to his thrusts. He holds on to the tree behind you, his hair falling forward over his face.

"(Y/N)..." He moans as he watches your mouth around his stiff member. You pull your mouth off, stroking him as you squirm, the enchanted fingers thrusting so quickly inside and vibrating. "Yes, Gale?" You ask, whimpering, bringing his cock back to your hungry lips. He groans as he tosses his head back, his hand slipping to your hair, pressing his cock deeper.

You gag slightly as his thrusts feel thicker between your thighs, leaving you slick, pooling in the underwear. "I want to fuck you hard. Now." His voice cracks as he continues to fuck your mouth.

You wonder if he's using the enchantment to fuck you with his pseudo cock as your whines are muffled. It's too thick to be fingers, filling you just like you imagine he would. You pull your mouth off again, nodding, "Please."

The enchantments suddenly end as he conjures up a small bed next to the tree. You hope he's not overextending himself with the magic as you pull your top off, tossing your ruined underwear to the side. He does the same as you lie back on the bed. It feels real, you think as he climbs on top of you.

"Thank you for indulging me (Y/N)," He whispers, resting his forehead against yours. You feel his cock resting on your belly, hot and stiff. "No, thank you," You whisper back, as he rests back on his knees. His cock feels much better than the imitation, stretching you again, but a thousand times better. You writhe under him as he slowly thrusts in.

He grunts as he leans back down, holding your chin between his fingers, forcing eye contact. You gaze into his dark brown eyes as your brows knit together, your mind growing blank as you clench around him. He moans, picking up his pace. "Gods, you're perfect (Y/N)."

You close your eyes, wrapping your legs around him as he pounds you into the mattress. You're already close to overstimulation from the enchantment as the way he rolls his hips only drives you more insane. You pant as your arms wrap around his shoulders, bringing him close again. He kisses you, this time with more passion, his tongue running along your bottom lip. His beard scratches your chin as you adjust, until you open your mouth a bit more, letting your tongue intertwine with his own.

He pulls away after a moment, staring down at you. "I-I'm sorry if that was..."

You shut him up bringing him closer as he picks up his speed. "Like that, Gale. Please... Like that." You moan, your fingers playing with the ends of his wavy hair. He doesn't say anything more about his kisses, paying attention to what your body says.

"I'm getting so close, (Y/N)... I don't think I can for much longer."

You mewl as you reach behind you, gripping the pillow behind your head. He watches your face as you try to make yourself cum with him. His tip feels so engorged inside of you as he continues to pound into you, sending waves of pleasure to your brain. He says something under his breath again, phantom touches come to your chest, hands and mouths on your nipples. Your breathing hitches as you wrap your legs around him tighter.

Cheater, you think as the phantom's tongue rolls around your sensitive nipple, the hand massaging the other. You feel another hand as Gales sits up, still keeping his pace, rubbing against your sensitive button.

"Fuck, Gale!" You cry out as you hide your face in the crook of your elbow, your stomach tensing.

"Come with me, please." He begs, feeling so overstimulated from all the touches everywhere. He doesn't have to ask twice as you gush around his cock, shuddering as your legs try to close him out. He pulls out just in time, his groan so loud as he lets his magic rub him off, finishing on your stomach and thighs. The mouth and fingers don't stop on your chest, keeping your nerves heightened.

You whimper as you close your eyes, slowly coming down from your high, the phantoms disappearing slowly. He lies beside you, his breathing hard. You turn to him, kissing him passionately, your hands resting on his stubbled cheek as you pull him closer. He smiles as you pull away, his pupils blown.

"That was... Amazing," He whispers. You nod as you wrap your leg around his waist. He rests his hand on your thigh, gently rubbing your skin.

"Yes, it was... You can enchant my underwear whenever, Gale." You say softly, watching his face.

"Oh?" His brows raise and you can tell he's blushing. "It wasn't weird?"

You shake your head as you prop yourself up on your elbow. "I loved it. It was very erotic." You say, imagining him enchanting your underwear when you're alone in your tent, making you cum over and over again while you try to stay quiet.

He clears his throat as he turns to face you, "Maybe another night, but I think I still prefer when I give you pleasure with my actual form." He states.

You nod as you scoot closer, "I do too. Real Gale is very fun and very sexy."

His blush travels to his neck at your teasing as he gently pats your thigh. "Fun I am. Sexy... You flatter me much, (Y/N)..." He sits up, quickly pecking your lips. "And as much fun this was, we better return to camp before anyone comes looking for us."

You grimace as you move your leg off him. He's right, unfortunately. "We'll have plenty of times in the future." You say with a warm smile as you reach for your clothes.

Gale pauses a look of shock on his face. "Are you sure you want to continue with me?" You raise your eyebrow as you pull your shirt back on, getting off the magical bed. It poofs as soon as you stand.

"Of course. Why wouldn't I?"

He gestures towards the camp as he frowns. "What about the others?" You laugh lightly as you decide not to wear your ruined underwear.

"What about them?" You retort, pulling your pants on.

His face is serious as he steps closer to you, his hands resting on your waist. "If you choose me, I want to be your only lover. I'm quite fond of you, (Y/N). I want to get to know you better."

Your eyes sparkle as you nod, "I'd like that a lot, Gale." He blinks as if expecting you to choose someone else over him. "I want to be with you, Gale." You repeat, gazing into his dumbfounded eyes.

He slowly smiles as he bows his head, trying to contain his excitement. "(Y/N)... You are full of surprises. There is nothing that I wanted more than to hear you say that, my love," He pulls you closer, the kiss full of promise.

#a gale fic whattt #tav x gale #gale #gale x reader #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 gale #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #writing #smut #esha wouldn't do this so this is not with a tav ;-;#just reader #reader insert #x reader

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nahoney22 · 8 months

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Dirty Whispers***

All Bad Batch Boys X F!Reader

How the boys react to you talking dirty into their ears in a crowded room.

warnings: NSFW, 18+ only, implied sexual content, flirting, slightly cheesy, explicit language, dirty talk, female reader, with Hunters it’s insinuated that reader has tattoos, with Crosshairs he’s quite dom towards the end. established and non-established relationships. Brief mention of alcohol.

Authors notes: big thanks to @eyecandyeoz & @raevulsix who gave me inspiration for this work as I’ve been drawing blanks all week. 😵‍💫🩵

Echo

The mission unfolded smoothly, with everything going according to plan and the group right on schedule. However, a momentary standstill shifted the focus onto Echo. Amidst surveying the surroundings of the room you're trapped in, you, along with the rest of the team and the five rescued prisoners, identified an accessible circuit that could make or break the situation. Luckily, Echo just so happened to possess the exact tool required for the job.

He gets to work and after a few minutes you get bored of waiting around and found yourself feeling a little... naughty.

You had been flirting with Echo for a long while now and judging by how he acts around you, you're fairly certain he feels something for you aswell. Though his flirting is not particularly reciprocated back, his flushed expression, gentlemanly manners and shy stuttering was too cute to ignore.

You kneel down next to him, everyone else in their own conversations and smile softly at him. "Any luck?"

"This system is a bit intricate. Usually, plugging into terminals and computers isn't a challenge but this coding is new.," he responded with a sigh, his brows furrowing in deep concentration.

Humming softly, you took a daring step, leaning in until your lips brushed his ear, causing his scomp to momentarily pause. "I might have something simpler for you to plug into," you whispered, the hint of innuendo igniting a fire across his skin, his stomach fluttering and excitement stirring in his pants.

He pulled away, wide-eyed and taken aback by your flirtatious advance. Yet, as you tilted your head with a feigned innocence, his scomp spun to life again, generating sparks that held promise. The door hissed open successfully.

"I knew you could do it," you grinned, acting as though nothing provocative had been said, before joining the others in making your exit.

He stands back for a few moments, breathing heavily and wiping the sweat off his brow. "She's not wrong." He mutters to himself with a small smirk, knowing he had to get you alone tonight.

Hunter

When the time came to redecorate your armour, you were happy to design your gear anyway you wanted to. However one day, a certain design catches Hunters attention.

You’re all in the Marauder, going through gear inspections when Hunter came towards you and points to your chest plate. “Mind if I take a look?”

You nod simply, offering him a smile as you unclipped the armour from your body and passed it over. You grew curious however as he traced his finger over a particular drawing you implemented into the artwork. “See something you like?”

He chuckles but nods. “Didn’t take you for someone who likes to doodle.”

You shrug, “Only sometimes. All my armour pieces have different designs.”

“Oh yeah? Mind if you show me?” His eyes dance with mischief and your heart fluttered as you knew he was flirting with you which wasn’t uncommon recently.

Then, a lightbulb appears above your head. You take a step closer to him, glancing at the others who seems to be in their own mind before standing on the tips of your toes towards his ear, lips brushing against his lobe and breath fanning over his skin. “You know… all these customs aren’t just on my gear. I could show you more tonight?”

He inhales sharply and closes his eyes, easily imagining your nude skin etched in designs that you were clearly willing to show him. He looks to his brothers, none of them seeing the exchange between the two of you. “I really like that idea,” then, he leans down to you, his eyes dark with lust as he whispers, “perhaps I could show you some of mine as well, darling?”

Wrecker

Back on Coruscant, Wrecker's confidence was on full display in one of the training rooms, especially when around the Regs. His raw strength turned heads effortlessly. While his captivating personality was what made you fall for him, his powerful physique and his ability to lift ships as if they were mere trinkets only deepened your admiration.

After your own training session, you turned to find Wrecker in the midst of deadlifting an impressive 450kg, surrounded by a group of about 30 Clones. The way his muscles strained against his clothing ignited a sense of heat within you; you couldn't help but be captivated.

As he settled down, taking a swig from his canteen, you approached, your own workout completed, and boldly took a seat in his lap. The unexpected move caught him off guard, but a grin spread across his face as he recognized you. "Hey gorgeous girl, what ya up to?"

A mischievous smirk played on your lips. "Oh, I couldn't resist admiring your workout and felt the urge to come give you a kiss," you replied, leaning in to plant a lingering kiss on his lips. Your satisfaction grew as he emitted a soft moan.

"Babe, the regs are watching," he eventually pointed out, prompting you to open your eyes and glance toward the clones who were suddenly trying to appear nonchalant after having undoubtedly been ogling the scene of your public display of affection.

You shrugged, a devil-may-care attitude in your demeanor, your smirk growing wider. Leaning closer to him, you brushed your fingers along his cheek, your lips tantalisingly close to his ear as you whispered, “I dare you to carry me to the storage unit and fuck me. Hard.”

He laughs but as he sees the lust in your eyes, he knew that you were not just teasing him. “Really?”

“Really.”

Let’s just say the regs were swift to file out the gym when things got a little heated.

Tech

Sitting across the bar from Tech in the, surprisingly, lively atmosphere of Cid's parlour, you couldn't help stealing glances in his direction. His head was buried in his datapad, a not so unusual sight. Amusement welled up within you as you observed his growing agitation, patrons brushing against him, drinks spilling over the bartop and likely onto his clothes and boots. Feeling a desire to relieve his discomfort, you decided to take action.

With a subtle smirk, you retrieved your own datapad and sent him a message that read, 'why don't you come over here?' Watching closely, you noticed him squint as he read the message before his gaze scanned the room until it landed on you. A smile emits immediately on his lips, and without delay, he abandoned his stool and made his way toward you.

"Your message came just in time. I was starting to fear that another drink might find its way onto me and I may not have the patience to hold back," he admitted with a sigh, a quick glance revealing various splatters and stains on his clothes.

Raising your drink to your lips, a surge of boldness surged through you. "How about I help you get out of those clothes?" you proposed, your voice carrying a hint of suggestion.

He briefly shifted his gaze to his device, processing your words before his attention returned to you, focusing on your eyes that shined over the brim of your cup. He seemed to think before speaking, "I must admit, I'm not entirely sure if I'm interpreting this situation correctly. Are you genuinely offering help, or..." His words trailed off as a small group of people moved behind you both, resuming once they had passed. "Or are you implying something else?"

His innocence was endearing and as you take a swig of your drink, eliciting more liquid courage, you turn to him fully and lean forward until your lips brushed against his ear. You feel him shudder under your gentle touch. “I help you out of your clothes, you help me out of mine. And then you can do whatever you want to me.”

He inhaled a sharp breath. “Anything meaning…?”

You giggle, not being able to help yourself as you gently nibble on his earlobe, eliciting a gasp from him and his hand to instantly land on your thigh. “Yes. Anything.”

In a split second, Tech stands and you feared you may have took things too far but then he takes a hold of your hand before leading you out of the parlour and straight to the Marauder…

Crosshair

As you feel an object hitting the back of your head, you pivot to find a toothpick landing at your feet. Your expression tightens into a frown as you scan the surroundings, only to spot Crosshair lounging against the doorway, smoothly placing another toothpick between his teeth. Cockily.

"Real comedian," you quip with a sarcastic tone. However, as you begin to turn away, another toothpick whizzes towards you. A sigh escapes your lips as a small skirmish unfolds, involving toothpick projectiles flying between you and Crosshair.

The confines of the Marauder had kept all of you cooped up for too long, and the signs of boredom were evident. Little did you anticipate that it would be Crosshair who initiated a kind of entertainment, seemingly innocent yet playful, involving the tossing of items back and forth—much to Echo's apparent dismay who told you both to clean up after yourselves.

Later, as you find yourself in the cockpit, steering through hyperspace towards your next destination, Crosshair's foot brushes against yours from the chair opposite you. An involuntary response makes you kick back, and a realisation washes over you: this isn't just playful banter anymore, but a glimmer of flirtation. With a hint of a smile, you and Crosshair have unknowingly transitioned into a game of footsie. But boredom takes over again.

Sitting next to him, the two of you listening in on the bickering between Hunter, Wrecker, Echo, and Tech, you lightly tap your head against the wall repeatedly. His attention eventually turns to you, a hint of a smile gracing his lips. "Bored, pretty girl?" he remarks, causing a delightful flutter in your chest, even though you try to downplay it.

"Yeah, I'm bored," you reply with a sigh, your fingers idly strumming against your thighs.

He starts a sentence but then pauses, seemingly reconsidering his words. You give his shoulder a gentle nudge, encouraging him to continue after a brief silence. He inhales, then turns to face you, his closeness apparent, seemingly unbothered by his brothers' presence who don’t seem to notice you both. "So, how do you think we could change that?" he inquires, his tone laced with flirtation and desire.

Exhaling deeply, feeling your cheeks warm up, you decide to meet his tone. Leaning in toward his ear, your warm breath caresses his skin as you reply, “How about we go to the refresher and you fuck my ‘pretty’ face?”

Your bold and straight to the point answer makes his eyes briefly widen and his fists clench. You watched your eyes intensely, seeing if there was any sign of reluctance but there wasn’t.

He keeps his closeness and speaks, voice raspy and filthy. “Meet me in there in two minutes. You may as well speak to the others before you come in because you won’t be able to move your jaw after I’m done with you.”

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#the bad batch x reader #the bad batch x you #nahoney22 writes #tbb x you #tech bad batch #wrecker bad batch #Hunter bad batch #echo bad batch #crosshair bad batch #the bad batch

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writeforfandoms · 4 months

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Roasting By An Open Fire

Find my Simon Riley masterlist

My entry for @glitterypirateduck holiday challenge! Because this man needs more sweetness in his life, honestly. And it's fun. This started with the fireplace, which is why I'm breaking my fic titling tradition to use just a lyric.

You and Simon have a quiet night in. Some teasing and banter turn into something more.

Warnings: Snarking, teasing, swearing, established relationship, thigh/lap riding, unprotected piv sex, dirty talk, pet names, little bit of body worship if you squint.

Word count: 2.5k

You hummed to yourself, gaze sliding from the knitting in your lap to Simon. He was focused on his book, the soft crackle and pops of the fire the only sounds between you. You smiled, wiggling your toes where they were tucked under one warm thigh.

He didn't even look up from his book, one big hand wrapping around your ankle to hold gently. At least until he turned the page.

You loved these quiet moments with him.

Your gaze drifted from him to the fire, watching as a log popped, sparks floating up into the chimney. The fire crackled softly, warmth radiating to you and Simon.

You wiggled a little, adjusting your back against the arm of the couch, getting more comfortable. You knew Simon didn't mind. He liked when the two of you had these quiet moments together.

So did you, really.

Life was often busy - you didn't always have the luxury of this kind of time. So it was easy to take a moment to treasure it.

You knew little bits of his history, things he'd shared with you over time. You knew his life hadn't been easy.

So to know you could give him even this much quiet? This much contentment? Brought you immense satisfaction.

“What's on your mind, love?”

You blinked, refocusing on him with a smile. “Nothing much,” you demurred, wiggling your toes again just to see his lips twitch in amusement. “Just thinking.”

“Mmm.” His gaze settled on you, warm and fondly amused. “Nothing much, huh?”

You grinned. Okay. So you might have just a little reputation for mischief when you said “nothing much”. “Alright, you got me. I was thinking about you.”

“Any particular part of me?” His voice dropped teasingly low, lips curled in a smirk.

“Yup.” You held his gaze easily, head tipping playfully. “Your heart.”

He paused and blinked at you, just once. You'd caught him off guard.

“I was thinking how much I love this.” You wiggled your toes again just to watch his gaze flicker down to his thigh. “And how much I love you.”

His gaze softened, his smile turning more genuine. “Love you too,” he murmured, one big hand squeezing your ankle again.

Your heart fluttered in your chest. Didn't matter how many times you heard those words, you never got tired of them.

Quiet fell between the two of you again as you picked up your knitting, determined to continue.

For all of ten seconds.

And then you got distracted again.

It was hardly your fault that the firelight reflected off his hair and cast gentle shadows on his face. Really, you were just admiring him.

Again, didn't have a lot of quiet opportunities to do this. So you savored this all the more.

“Keep lookin’ at me like that and I'll think you want something, love.”

You chuckled, though you didn't look away. “What if I just like looking at you?”

He snorted softly. “Should have your head checked,” he joked.

“That's nothing new,” you shot back, trying not to grin. “Been saying that for a long time.”

Simon huffed, shaking his head. One hand settled on your knee, thumb stroking your thigh. The warmth even from that gentle touch transferred through your lounge pants easily.

And he knew exactly what he was doing, too.

“Si…” You bit your lip, ducking your head. Two could play at this little game of teasing.

He groaned softly, gaze hot as his fingers tightened on you. Then he moved, book tossed aside as he knelt on the plush rug between the couch and the fireplace. You squeaked as his hands fastened on your knees, turning you to face him and then tugging until you were precariously perched between the edge of the couch and him.

“Think it's fun to tease, love?” He pulled your knees apart so he could settle between your thighs, head tipped to look at you.

“Always.” Even with your heart beating fast and your face heating under his attentions, you couldn't resist teasing him.

At least while you could still think.

Simon huffed at you, pushing closer to you, forcing your legs wider to accommodate him. “That so?” He smirked, hands sliding slowly up your thighs, the warm drag of his skin over your sweats delicious.

“Teasing you is the highlight of my day,” you teased. One hand lifted to brush through his hair.

Simon huffed and tipped his head enough to nip playfully at your wrist. “Well, since you're so fond of teasing…” His fingers hooked in the waistband of your sweats and your panties, tugging both down with your slightly clumsy help, until the wad of fabric ended up tossed elsewhere. (Hopefully not in the fire.)

You shivered as those big hands smoothed up your thighs until he could grip your hips, holding you in place, perched a little precariously on the edge of the couch.

You knew you were in for it when Simon tipped his head and smirked up at you.

“Well, love?”

“Well?” You blinked at him.

His teeth flashed in a brief grin before he tugged you off the couch and into his lap. You squeaked, grabbing his shoulders for support, even as he chuckled at you.

“I could tease you all night.” He lifted his hips just enough to press his erection into you, making you gasp. “Get you close again and again…” His hands guided your hips into a slow rolling grind against him, the friction of his pants against your skin almost maddening.

“Is there a second option?” You swallowed hard when his fingers gripped you a little more tightly.

“Still thinkin’.” He smirked at your little whine, pulling you tighter to him. “Take off the rest.”

You didn’t even hesitate, tugging your shirt off and dropping it behind you before your bra followed. Simon didn’t make it easy for you, dipping his head to kiss and nibble at the column of your throat while you were still working your bra off.

“Darling,” you whined softly when he thumbed your nipple, toying gently with it.

“Still thinkin’,” he teased, nosing back up the column of your throat to kiss the hinge of your jaw.

You huffed at his teasing, fingers of one hand tangling in his hair. But you didn’t stop moving, biting your lip as heat gathered between your legs.

“Good girl,” he rumbled teasingly, fingers digging into your ass. “Keep going.”

You’d be mad that he knew exactly which buttons to press… except you loved it. Loved that he knew you so well. Biting your lip, you dared to move a little faster. There was both too much sensation and not enough - the brush of his clothes against your skin, the pounding of your heart in your chest, the distinct lack of anything inside you.

“Si,” you whined softly, squirming.

He grinned, showing teeth even as he teased you. “Made up my mind,” he murmured, voice dropping lower.

“Yeah?” you managed, swallowing hard.

“I want you to come, just like this.” He dug his fingers into your ass, pulling you down harder against his lap. “Then I’ll fuck you.”

You couldn’t help the little noise you made at that. But you did keep moving, biting your lip, knowing he was entirely serious about you coming first. He sort of took pity on you, both hands moving to your breasts, nipping and kissing down your neck and collarbone.

It wasn’t long until your hips were stuttering, Simon helping you ride out your pleasure against him, even as you stifled little noises against his chest.

“Good girl,” he purred, one hand rubbing up and down your back even as you relaxed into him, still a little shivery. “So good for me.”

You huffed wordlessly, scratching his scalp lightly. “Tease,” you murmured, too full of affection to be even a little bit annoyed.

Simon just hummed softly, giving you a few moments to recover. Gentle kisses to your forehead and cheeks made you smile, eyes closing briefly. “Still alright?” he asked softly, lips just brushing your cheek as he spoke.

“Mmhm. More than.” You wiggled a little, more playful than needy, grinning at the soft groan that earned you.

“Clearly I haven’t worn you out yet.” He tipped you carefully to one side until you went sprawling onto the rug, already warmed from the fire. He didn’t follow you immediately, though, instead tipping his head a little and just… looking at you. You warmed, pulling your knees in.

“What?” You resisted the urge to cover yourself, curling your fingers into the rug.

“Just admiring the view, love.” Simon smiled a little, sweeping his gaze over you slowly, purposefully. “It’s a very good view.”

That got you to duck your head, warm and flustered. “Now who’s teasing?” you grumbled.

“Not teasing,” he protested, hands landing on your knees, gently pulling them apart again. “I mean it. You’re gorgeous.”

You had no response to that except to hook your heels behind his thighs and tug him closer. He huffed softly but lowered himself over you, taking his time kissing you. One of his hands slipped between the two of you, pushing clothing out of the way. Your face burned - he was too impatient to undress all the way this time. That didn’t happen often, and it made you squirm.

Your breath caught in your throat at the feeling of him pressed between your thighs, the head of him just notched into place.

“Relax for me,” he murmured, even as he pressed into you slowly. Your jaw dropped at the stretch of him filling you. It didn’t matter how many times you’d had each other, taking him was always a stretch. He took his time, pulling back slowly and sliding a little deeper with each pass.

“I can take it,” you murmured, pushing your heels against him, trying to draw him in deeper. “Come on, Si.”

His lips twitched in a grin, a little mischief in his eyes. Uh oh. “That so?” He pulled back and you had a moment to anticipate before he pushed in, not stopping until he was pressed up tight to you, as deep as he could go. You couldn’t help the little noise you made, or the way you clung to him, hands fisting in the back of his shirt.

And then he paused there, still hilted in you, forehead pressed to yours. “Alright?” he asked softly, holding your gaze easily.

“More than,” you assured him, one hand unclenching from his shirt to cup the back of his head, fingers scratching lightly through his hair.

He nipped your lower lip before he started moving, languid thrusts that let you feel every inch of him. His soft groan echoed in your chest, only encouraging you to squirm under him. It was impossible to hold still, need flaring higher every time his hips met yours. You burned between the warmth of the fire and the warmth of him, legs hitching up higher over his hips.

“Should make this a new holiday tradition,” he murmured, gazing down at you. The backs of his fingers were gentle against the skin of your cheek, even as he picked up the pace.

“Making love on the rug?” You gasped when he changed the angle a little, adding a little swivel of his hips that nearly made your eyes roll back.

“In front of the fire,” he answered, as if it should be obvious. “You’re beautiful like this.”

You opened your mouth to respond, trying to come up with something sufficiently snarky. Only for all the air to be punched out of you when Simon grabbed under your knee, hiking it further up.

“Glad you agree,” he hummed, amused, adjusting his weight to gather up your other knee, too, hooking both over his elbows before driving into you again.

Which left you a mess. You clung to his shoulders and back, whining even as you tipped your head back, giving in entirely to him. Everything was just riding the edge of too much - the stretch of him inside you, the way he angled your hips to get as deep as he could every time, the brush of his hair against your skin.

Your eyelids fluttered before you focused on the warm glow the fire gave him. A droplet of sweat started at his brow and slid down his nose, briefly catching the light, until your eyes closed against the onslaught of pleasure.

“Feel good, love?” Simon asked, voice lower and rougher than normal.

All you could do was nod and cling, squirming as you approached your peak. Simon kissed you, open-mouthed and hungry, swallowing all your noises. One nip to your bottom lip and you cried out, coming around him.

He groaned, low and pleased, against your mouth, hips stuttering briefly at the feel of you pulsing around him. “Fuck,” he rasped, eyes dark as he watched you. “Feel so good, love.”

You whined a little, nails scraping gently against his scalp, blinking slowly up at him with hazy eyes. He was close, you could tell from the way his thrusts shortened, chasing his own pleasure. You decided to give him a little nudge in the right direction. You looked up at him, eyes a little wet from the beginnings of overstimulation, and bit your lower lip.

Simon groaned your name as his hips stuttered and then slowed as he came, making you squirm. He stilled, pressed up tight to you still, his forehead resting gently against yours as you both breathed.

Your head tipped back to settle against the floor while you caught your breath, fingers still tangled in his clothes. After a moment you giggled, breathless.

“Hm?” He lifted his head to blink at you, confused.

“Mistletoe.” You grinned up at the sprig you’d pinned to the ceiling in a moment of cheekiness. “Forgot I put that there.”

Simon huffed a laugh. “Can’t ignore that,” he murmured, tipping your head to kiss you, slow and sweet and a little bit filthy.

You hummed, scratching lightly at his hair. “You’re right,” you murmured with a sly little smile.

“Oh?” He shifted his weight, still pressed up against you, making you shiver.

“You are beautiful like this.” You grinned at the the way his cheeks went pink.

“Cheeky,” he muttered, but he kissed you again anyway. “Ready to get up?”

You wrinkled your nose. You wanted to, because cleaning up and a hot drink sounded divine, but you loved feeling him like this. “Okay,” you agreed with a little sigh.

He chuckled at you, pressing a kiss to your nose. “I’ll lay on you again later,” he promised before he pushed himself up and helped you to your feet. You shivered, chilly without his warmth on top of you, and Simon gently nudged you towards the bathroom. “Clean up, I’ll make you a drink.”

“You’re the best.” You kissed him, just a quick peck, before heading for the bathroom.

Later, cuddled up on Simon’s lap trying unsuccessfully to hide your yawns, you agreed with his earlier statement.

Definitely needed to make this a new tradition.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #f!reader #18+#codholiday2023

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randxmthxughts · 1 year

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Unrequited - Chapter 1 - Tsu'tey x Omatikaya!Reader

prologue (technically you can skip it, but i recommend checking it out for the backstory)

summary: y/n had been in love with tsu'tey since they were kids, watching him get his heart broken over and over, until he became hardened. on one particular night, she offers him intimacy with no expectations in return, which sparks up a complex relationship between them. they grapple with guilt, unrequited love, and newfound intimacy, as y/n and tsu'tey navigate the depths of their feelings for each other

wc: 5.1k

contains: one-sided love, angst, smut, friends with benefits (ig), smut in this chapter!

note: the events take place in correspondence to the first movie, right after the final battle with the sky people

a/n: you guys asked for continuation, so i decided to turn it into series. i don't know how many chapters i'm planning to write but i do have a structure that i'll be following, so we'll figure it out together, as we go. i really hope you enjoy it. nothing else to say, just thank you if you reblog or comment ♡

unrequited masterlist | general masterlist

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

The aftermath of the war between the Na'vi and the RDA was a somber and devastating sight to look at. The once peaceful and serene landscape of your home was now just as scarred and disturbed as your own mind. When you looked at the scorched earth underneath, and the sorrowful faces around you, your thoughts involuntarily raced back to Tsu’tey. Guilt consumed you for allowing yourself to care about him at a time like this, for recalling the night you had shared with him in the clearing, when you had offered him a piece of you, expecting nothing in return. And yet, despite Tsu’tey’s cautious words, deeper in your heart there was still a longing for more.

Tsu’tey made it clear that his heart would always belong solely to Silwanin, his true and only love. And as you watched him suffer through the endless loss and heartache, you came to a painful realization that there would be no place for you in his life. He had become so hardened to reality, that he no longer cared for his own happiness, the duty of protecting his people becoming the only will to live. That night, when he became aware of your feelings for him, he pitied you for choosing to love someone as damaged as he was.

Watching the clan rebuild and heal from the wounds inflicted by the war, you were convinced to follow the same route. Instead of dwelling on the aftermath, you had approached Mo’at to join the other healers, as soon as the clan returned back into the forest. For the first few days, as warriors brought back injured Na’vi, you followed Mo’at, assisting her in treating the wounded. You silently prayed to Eywa that Tsu’tey wouldn’t be among the wounded, or even worse.

It was on the fourth day that you finally saw him. When Tsu’tey stepped into the healing tent, close to midnight, his eyes widened at the sight of you. He clearly did not expect to find you there instead of Mo’at. Your gaze traveled from his face to his left arm, predicting that he had suffered a broken bone. It was wrapped tightly in big dried leaves that mimicked the shape of his muscles and fixed his elbow in a flexed position. Flat pieces of wood were pressed alongside his bones, tied with smaller strings around his skin. Another thicker string supported his arm in the air, going around his neck.

For a moment, the broken arm offered you a momentary distraction from Tsu’tey's piercing gaze, but the knots in your stomach tightened nonetheless. The tension left from that night still lingered uncomfortably between you.

“Y/N,” he cleared his throat, “Is Tsahik out?”

“She is keeping watch over Atwäm tonight, he’s gotten worse,” you answered with a heavy sigh, recalling the said warrior’s severe state. Mo'at had predicted that the end of his suffering was drawing near. “What happened to your arm?”

“Nothing, I got thrown off my ikran and landed on my arm,” Tsu’tey shrugged his shoulders dismissively, “Mo’at told me she’d change my dressing, but I’ll come back when she’s here.”

“No need, I can help,” you said softly, earning his surprised look.

“Do you know how?”

“Yes. Sit.”

Without waiting for his response, you turned your back to Tsu’tey and began carefully selecting the supplies needed for his treatment. Refreshing his cast didn't make you nervous since you had already assisted Mo'at with a similar task just the day before. Moreover, it was surprising that you were able to maintain your composure around him, even though the last time you saw him, you were almost choking on his member. That vulgar image left emptiness inside you.

Tsu’tey hesitated for a moment before slowly lowering himself to the ground, watching you move around with ease, like a fish in the water. He felt a ping of guilt for not knowing this about you, truthfully, he had no idea that you were even interested in healing, let alone that you have been helping out the other healers for the past few days.

When you returned to him with the supplies, you took a seat beside him, quietly beginning to untie the string holding up his arm. You instructed him to keep it in the same position for you, and Tsu’tey obeyed, trying his best not to move. Your hands worked with precision and care, peeling away the dry leaves, and the flat pieces of wood that you put aside to reuse. You could feel Tsu'tey’s eyes on you the entire time, sensing that he had something to say but was holding back.

“I am sorry that I haven’t spoken to you since the duel,” his voice was hoarse. You shifted uncomfortably, trying your best to concentrate on your work.

“You don’t have to apologize. There was a battle far more important.”

“Still, I can accept it if you think of me as an unreputable man because of what I did. But I do not wish for you to believe that I avoided you on purpose.”

“I don’t think either of those things about you, Tsu’tey,” you finally looked up at him, “Would you consider me an unreputable woman?”

He shook his head, validating some of the doubts in your head. If anyone found out about the intimacy you shared with another man without mating before Eywa, it could have stumped your chances of mating with anybody else. Of course, bonds were sometimes made and broken by the guidance of the Great Mother, but you did not think about it. Frankly, you weren’t sure if you could give yourself to anyone else but Tsu’tey, even if Eywa had surrounded you with signs. It was something you figured out a long time ago, ever since Tsu’tey had mated with Silwanin and you knew that you didn’t stand a chance, yet your heart still yearned for him. No amount of attention and courting you received made your heart flutter the way it did when his eyes would land on you even for a second. You had gotten used to the idea of either ending up with someone you did not love, or remaining alone and dedicating yourself to your studies.

“I feel like I betrayed you,” he shook his head, unable to express the depth of his guilt.

“Why?” you frowned in confusion.

“I promised to always protect you when we were kids. And then I took something from you, and you can’t get it back.”

A lump of shame gathered in your throat, making it harder to breathe. Did he really think you were broken now because of what happened between you two?

“I do not regret it,” you lifted your chin up, “I would rather give a part of myself to a man I love, rather than give nothing to anyone.”

Love. Tsu’tey’s heart clenched at the obvious nature of your feelings for him. He hated himself for not being able to reciprocate your love, for torturing you.

“I gathered the leaves this morning, so your bandage should last longer,” you commented, diverting the conversation.

As you applied the sticky paste, followed by a clump of leaves, you pressed them firmly onto his skin, shaping it like a protective armor. He hummed, trusting your words, as you worked in silence. When you leaned in closer to reach the tie over his neck, his breath ghosted over your skin, and your heart raced in your chest. Tsu’tey’s hand instinctively reached out to support you by your waist, and you cursed inwardly at the rush of sensation that flooded your body.

Despite the awkwardness and discomfort both of you felt, your thoughts still drifted back to the night when you heard him whimper under the touch of your lips. The way his skin shuddered, when you pressed wet kisses against it, feeling just as nervous and excited to hear his satisfied moans. With trembling hands, you quickly tied the string into a tight knot around his arm, before pulling away, desperate to put some distance between you.

“Thank you.”

“You need to come back for a new bandage, once the leaves dry out.”

“Again?” Tsu’tey frowned, clearly dissatisfied with your instructions.

“As many times as it takes until the bone heals fully.”

“I hate this,” he huffed, “It is itchy and uncomfortable. I cannot fight like this.”

“Fight? The battle is over, Tsu’tey,” you rolled your eyes at him, “Eywa must forgive you for your ungratefulness. The worst of your worries is the itch on your skin that you cannot tend to, instead of losing an arm like Tsay'ä.”

Tsu’tey’s eyes narrowed at your remark, recognizing that sassy tone you used to reserve for Neytiri during your playful arguments. You had rarely used it with him, always contained and reserved, whenever he was around. Tsu’tey realized how different you seemed now, no longer a kid who needed his protection. There used to be a time before Silwanin’s death, when he would see you almost every day, given that you were inseparable from Neytiri. He wondered how much he had missed out on in the past few years, since you weren’t hanging around them anymore. He felt a pang of guilt for not noticing you slowly drifting away from your group.

As you gathered to stand up, Tsu’tey reached for your wrist, pulling you to a stop. You peered down at him confused.

“What?”

“What are you doing tomorrow morning?” he asked with a slight excitement evident in his voice.

“Resting before Mo'at's ceremony,” you answered, frowning at his sudden interest in your plans.

The past few days had been a whirlwind for the clan. But now, as the work began to taper off, you were preparing for the grieving ceremony. The final battle with the Sky People had been devastating, and many families in the clan had lost their sons and daughters. And while their bodies had already been given to Eywa, Mo’at decided to hold a final ceremony to pray for the lost souls before the Mother Tree.

“Could you help me with something before that?” Tsu’tey asked.

“Sure,” you nodded.

Tsu'tey felt a twinge of surprise at how readily you agreed without asking for a reason. You barely needed one, your heart would follow Tsu’tey wherever he wanted it to. He released your wrist, and quietly slipped out of the tent.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

You walked past the Well of Souls, eyes catching a sight of the softly glowing Mother Tree, where the ceremony would take place later. The aftermath of the battle still lingered in the air, and you struggled to focus on Tsu’tey’s back instead. He walked in front of you, occasionally glancing back to ensure you were keeping up. As he pushed through thick bushes, you heard strange noises from the depths of the rainforest.

“What is that?” you asked, but Tsu’tey only threw a soft smile over his shoulder, like there was nothing to be scared of.

When he came to a stop, you saw it: a big, armored head peeked out from behind the tall bushes. Your heart skipped a beat, as you recognized the creature as a palulukan, piercing through you with its green eyes. You stepped back in fear, as the palulukan revealed itself, coming into your full view. Judging by the size, it was still a youngling, no older than a few days. Still, it was quite large and could easily harm both you and Tsu’tey.

“Don’t be scared, it is still a baby,” Tsu’tey said, holding up his palm. The palulukan cautiously and slowly moved towards him.

“Tsu’tey, do you have a death wish?” you gritted through your teeth, taking a few careful steps back.

“It’s alright, it won’t harm you,” he said calmly.

He remained unhinged when the palulukan nuzzled its head into his palm. You froze, watching in awe, as Tsu’tey continued petting the animal. The fearsome palulukan became gentler under his touch, tail swishing from side to side. Tsu’tey turned his face to you and chuckled at your expression.

“Come closer, Y/N.”

“Have you lost your mind?” your voice trembled with fear.

It was a rare sight to see a Na’vi man get along with a palulukan. Although you knew of a clan that was skilled at taming the creatures, amongst your own, the Omatikaya, surviving an interaction with a palulukan was considered a blessing from Eywa.

“You said you would help,” Tsu’tey reminded you, his voice firm.

He lowered his palm and turned to face you, his eyes fixed on yours. The trust he had in the cub was palpable, but your panic continued to rise, eyes jumping between him and the palulukan.

“Why do you need my help?” you swallowed hard.

“She limps,” Tsu’tey answered, nodding towards the cub.

“We shouldn’t intervene with the laws of Eywa. Where is the mother?” you asked, your voice tinged with concern.

“The mother was probably killed. The cub was all alone when I found it,” Tsu’tey explained, “I felt too ashamed to burden the other healers when they were busy helping our people. So, I tried moving her back to the valley, where she belongs, but like I said, she can’t walk far because of her paw.”

You threw another glance at the palulukan, who seemed to pay you no mind, lazily swishing its tail from side to side. Your mind calmed slightly, feeling a little sorry for the cub. You took a hesitant step forward.

“Something with the back paw. I’m not very helpful with all this,” Tsu’tey gestured to his broken arm.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself, before approaching the animal. With a steady hand, Tsu’tey petted the cub, coaxing it into a sitting position, so that you felt less intimidated. You prayed to Eywa to keep you safe as you reached for the injured paw, finding a small piece of demon-metal lodged between its toes. You pulled it slightly, causing the palulukan let out a screech. But Tsu’tey somehow managed to calm her down.

“It can’t stay here any longer,” you threw a quick glance at Tsu’tey, pulling the metal piece as quickly and carefully as you could, “It's too close to the Mother Tree, and there is a ceremony soon.”

“Do not worry, I will lure it to the valley,” Tsu’tey replied, still patting the cub on its head.

“Not in that state, you can’t go alone,” you protested, nodding to his injured arm. “I will come with you.”

Tsu’tey let out a low growl of annoyance, partly at your stubbornness and partly at his own injury. He decided to remain silent and watched as you finally removed the metal chip. The palulukan let out another screech, wiggling its paw out of your hands and bringing it to his snout to lick the wound. Tsu’tey stepped back, observing the animal with a small smile, and you found yourself smiling at Tsu’tey.

You could never stop loving him. Even if you tried, Tsu’tey would always find a way back into your heart. Of course, only he would manage to handle a palulukan without getting eaten alive. You shook your head in disbelief of the man in front of you.

The palulukan stood up with a low growl, sniffing your feet before raising its snout toward your face. You froze, afraid that it might attack you for causing it pain, but the creature only studied you briefly with its big green eyes. You slowly extended your hand to the cub, before taking a step towards the valley. To your surprise, the cub climbed up, limping on its paw, and following you as you started to walk. Some time later, along with Tsu’tey, you led it towards the valley, letting it wander off at the outskirts.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

As the two of you began your walk back home, you felt a rush of joy spreading through you.

“I thank Eywa for letting me pet a palulukan without getting eaten alive,” you grinned at Tsu’tey.

His ears perked up at your satisfied expression but he pretended to be annoyed with you.

“I wouldn’t have let you near it if there was a chance of getting eaten.”

“But still, Tsu’tey,” you stopped in your tracks, taking his hand in yours, “Eywa has blessed you. You made a friend out of a palulukan. Not many get to say that.”

Tsu’tey looked down at your hands, feeling a ping of excitement at the contact. Since that night in the clearing, he often found himself yearning for your touch and the solace it brought him. And he despised himself for it.

Tsu’tey mumbled a thanks and squeezed your hand in his, his eyes lingering on yours for longer than necessary. Your heart raced, and something uglier began to spread in the pit of your stomach. You had been consumed by lustful thoughts of him, yet you couldn't admit it to yourself. All you craved was confirmation that he had felt it too.

Like in some sort of trance, you lifted yourself up on your toes, drawn towards Tsu’tey's face. Your hand rested gently on his chest, careful to avoid the bandaged arm. You expected him to pull away, to reject your advances, but instead he watched you with a heated gaze. Tsu’tey knew that it was wrong to give into the temptation, that the aftermath wouldn’t be worth it, but he just needed to taste your lips.

Scared to your core, you tested the waters first by tentatively nuzzling your nose against his cheek. Tsu’tey released your hand out of his, but instead of pushing you away, he cupped your face roughly, pulling you into a kiss. His hunger to taste you consumed you, and you almost grew dizzy from the intensity of his lips.

As your lips parted, Tsu’tey pulled away, his eyes closed, breathing ragged. You tried to speak, to say something, anything, but your voice caught in your throat. You both stood there, silent, for what felt like an eternity until he spoke.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” he said, his voice low, “I’m sorry.”

“You did nothing wrong, Tsu’tey,” you whispered, staring into his eyes.

He was distraught but his hand was still gently caressing your cheek. In his eyes, you could see an internal struggle: his mind was telling him to stop, but his body was craving more.

His eyes widened before closing in a relaxing manner when you crashed your lips against his again. You were eager to satisfy your hunger for him, like an annoying itch that needed to be scratched.

Tsu’tey’s hand pulled you close by the nape of your neck, signaling you to keep going. Your stomach turned in a pleasant pain, when he groaned into your mouth. A few sloppy kisses were exchanged before you were pushing him back into a tree.

Tsu'tey couldn't resist you any longer, the passion that had been building up inside him finally erupting as he kissed you with all the desire he had been trying to suppress. His free hand roamed over your body, pulling you into him, not caring about the pain he felt in his injured arm.

But as the intensity of the moment grew, so did the guilt that Tsu'tey felt. He knew that what he was doing was wrong, that he could never give you more than this, no matter how much he wanted to.

“Y/N,” he pulled away, breathless, “I can’t do this to you.”

“It’s okay,” your voice hitched, his pitiful gaze on you, “I’m okay.”

Tsu’tey pursed his lips, his eyes slowly tracing your features. He had never before noticed the intricate pattern of stripes on your forehead, which formed a unique shape right in the center. He had never paid attention to the way your freckles glowed like stars in the night sky, something he had always loved to admire before drifting off to sleep. And the way your eyes glistened with a threat of tears, as you feared rejection.

“Please,” you pleaded with him, “Don’t pity me.”

He took a deep breath and let it out before slowly leaning into you. Your heart raced, as he nuzzled into your neck, his eyes shutting in surrender. Tsu’tey then pressed a soft kiss to the crook of your neck, hand grazing your back. Your heat felt uncomfortably abandoned under his touch, and you pressed your thighs together, attempting to get some sense of relief. The movement caught Tsu’tey’s attention, and he frowned, pulling away to observe you. But it wasn’t long till you distracted him with another kiss, scared of him changing his mind.

The sharp pain reminded him of his injury the second he tried to reach for you with his left arm. Tsu’tey suddenly realized that despite the lust he felt, he was too weak, too restricted to give in fully. So, when your hands reached for his loincloth, he swatted them away, gently pushing you off.

“What’s wrong?” you asked softly.

“I want to take care of you,” he admitted, his hand finding its way to your waist. It was his turn to make you feel good.

It was embarrassing how effortlessly Tsu’tey made you forget to breathe. He played a game of cat and mouse with you, giving in one moment and then changing his mind the next. But you desired him so intensely that you simply nodded, letting him turn you around and lower you on the ground. You didn't resist as Tsu’tey settled in behind you, his back pressed against the tree.

“Sit here,” he ordered, pointing to the spot between his legs.

You scooched back quietly, leaning your back against him. Tsu’tey shifted slightly to adjust to his broken arm, before pressing a kiss to your temple. You relaxed, eyes closing, as his fingers gently caressed the skin under your skimpy top, grazing the already hardened nipples. Tsu’tey continued planting kisses to the side of your face, when his hand moved in between your thighs and parted them. He untied your loincloth, exposing your cunt to the cold air.

“Tsu’tey,” your voice hitched at the anticipation of his next move.

His hand quickly left your thighs, now turning your face to him, so he could press a kiss to your lips. When your mouth opened immediately, welcoming him in, you felt his finger pushed down on your button. Tsu’tey caught your muffled groan into his mouth, and pressed down on you, as you tried to wiggle away from the sensation. A low growl vibrated through him as a warning before he gently glided his fingers over your slit, slowly massaging your folds. His palm brushed over your sensitive bundle of nerves, forcing a low moan out of you. Tsu’tey felt his member harden at the sound, almost in disbelief at how sensitive you were to his touch.

The flat of his palm circled slowly against your clit, rubbing lazily against it. You gasped his name, hips unintentionally bucking up into his touch, seeking a rhythm. But Tsu’tey enjoyed the sounds that you made a little too much to give in right away. His touch left you for a second, as he wetted his fingers and brought them back to your clit, starting to flick it. You groaned and moaned, as he kept going, occasionally switching to his palm to rub against your sensitive spot.

“More,” you pleaded, choking on your own breathing.

Tsu’tey hummed, not rushing to comply with your request, as his lips found their way to your neck again, trailing wet kisses. His hand continued to tease your clit in tight circles, and you felt him smear around some of your wetness. Your moans grew louder, when Tsu’tey pressed two fingers against your bud and started stroking it from side to side, picking up a rhythm. Shivers ran down your spine, and you whined at the overwhelming feeling in your stomach but before you could give into it, his digits pulled away, teasing you down your slit.

You were growing impatient, desperately wanting to chase the sensation by squeezing your thighs, but Tsu’tey did not like that. He parted your thighs again, throwing his legs over yours and restricting your movements. He meddled with the idea of punishing you for moving before brushing past your swollen folds and lightly slapping them. You whined at the sudden ache, and Tsu’tey had to stifle a chuckle at your reaction. He felt an urge to slap your heat harder this time, to force a louder yelp. By the sound of your painful cry, he knew he had succeeded, when he raised his hand higher and slapped against your folds with more force. A mixture of pain and pleasure started to blur your vision, as Tsu’tey slapped your heat over and over again, making your body convulse. You were panting heavily, when he stopped, and his finger teased your entrance before slipping in, not giving you time to adjust. Your eyes widened at the sensation, and he pushed it further into your tight walls, all the way to the last knuckle.

“Tsu’tey,” you exhaled in a slight discomfort. You had never felt anything inside you like that.

“”S okay, relax, syulang” he said with a husky voice.

Tsu’tey moved his finger, making you clench around him. But it was too tight, so much that he couldn’t help but groan at the sensation, wondering what it would feel like to have you around his penis instead. He pulled his finger out, palm rubbing against your nub, before slipping it back into your hole and pushing as far as he could. You started to whimper, your walls clamping down on him, as Tsu’tey slowly thrusted his digit in and out of you, accompanied by squelching sounds.

You tried to tell him that it was getting too much but your words came out in a sloppy jumble instead, making no sense. Tsu’tey picked up on a faster rhythm with quick sloppy motions, filling the air around you with a mixture of wet squelching sounds and your panting. He was running short of our breath too, violently thrusting his finger into you a few more times, before pulling it out.

“Please…don’t stop,” you whined at the absence of his touch, buckling back. You pressed your bottom into his crotch, as if pleading him to continue.

“Don’t-don’t do that, sweetheart,” Tsu’tey breathed out heavily.

You struggled to fight the fuzziness in your mind, as you suddenly felt the need to check on him. You turned to look at him through your hooded lids.

“Did I hurt you?”

Tsu’tey shook his head with a low chuckle. He couldn’t contain his amusement at the fact that you were checking on him. It was an unexpected situation anyway, but even stranger, considering that it happened in the middle of such intimate act. He suddenly felt the need to reward you for your worrying.

As you held his gaze, searching for a sign of pain, Tsu’tey caught your lips with his, hungrily sucking and pulling at your bottom lip. Your mind got clouded with the hotness of his skin, which was exactly how Tsu’tey distracted you again. His hand caressed your thighs and sneaked back to your clit, beginning to draw tight circles around it. He enjoyed the way you bucked your hips up into his touch, chasing that sweet taste of pleasure.

As you buckled up again, Tsu’tey rubbed your swollen bud with a force, then picked up on a steady rhythm. It wasn’t long till you felt the tension building up in your pit again, and you pressed the side of your face into his chest, feeling hot in your cheeks. His fingers were expertly fiddling with your nub, his motions speeding up. Small whimpers were escaping from your mouth, and Tsu’tey couldn’t help but groan at the sight of you nearing your release. His penis was pulsating, as he started rubbing your button more roughly.

“Need you,” you trembled, gripping his thighs with your hand.

Your hips were jerking out of control, chasing that feeling building inside you, your body tensing up, with in a sharp intake of air. The painful tension broke down into a wave of pleasure, spreading from your heat to the knots in your fingers and toes.

You held your breath, squeezing your eyes shut at the immense sensation. Tsu’tey exhaled behind you, feeling the way you shivered underneath his touch. He rubbed your oversensitive clit again, pushing you over the edge, and you whined, squirming under him. It was too overwhelming, almost painful. You tried to squeeze your thighs, your hole clenching and pulsing around nothing, juice flowing out of it like a nectar.

“Stop, Tsu’tey…stop,” you gasped, as he slowed his motions on your sensitive spot.

Your hand swatted at his, and Tsu’tey chuckled before finally pulling it away. Your chest sank in big heavy pants, and his lips were on you again, hand caressing the soft skin of your tummy, and moving up to your chest. You breathed heavily, when he squeezed your breast in his palm, a satisfied smirk finding a way to your lips. When he kissed the side of your face again, you turned your face to capture his lips. Tsu’tey hummed in satisfaction.

“I need you to-” you pulled away from him, still a little breathless, “I need you to relax too.”

You wiggled your legs from underneath his, and shifted to sit sideways. Before your hands could even reach for the ties of his loincloth, Tsu’tey stopped you.

“Not now,” he shook his head.

“Then when?” you raised your eyebrows, “When you’re healed?”

He chuckled at your desperation. Tsu’tey couldn’t deny or hide his arousal from you but it was amusing to watch you figure out the reason for his rejection.

“Maybe.”

You let out a small sigh, your lips settling into a contented smile. But as you remembered the upcoming ceremony, you quickly rose to your feet, hastily tying your loincloth. Tsu’tey watched you shamelessly, feeling at ease with the knowledge that you now had a piece of him too. Even if it wasn’t going to be permanent.

“We should head back now to make it in time for the ceremony,” you mumbled, “I promised to help.”

Tsu’tey nodded, standing up too. But there was something different about it when he met your gaze. No words were exchanged as he followed your lead, back into the cove. You couldn’t shake off the feeling that this wasn’t the end yet.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

chapter 2

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

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rallentando1011 · 18 days

Note

hey so can I get a scenario with rise donnie’s s/o coming up to him and invited him to a restaurant in the hidden city where it has couples dancing? Entices him with his favourite music that’s gonna be playing and massive puppy eyes?

late nights, flashing lights

rise Donnie x gn reader

“Come on, it’s the weekend! Why not do something special?”

Donnie flipped up his goggles in response to your question and set down his welding gun, sparks ceasing to fly at his confusion. “I haven’t the slightest notion on what the day of the week has to do with my choice of activities.”

“Our choice of activities - we’re hanging out right now, so it’s collective,” you corrected.

“Fine - our choice of activities. Sitting and working and engaging in riveting discussions is all we do on other nights, so what makes this one any different?”

You paused. All week, you had been planning a surprise for him - a trip to a quaint little disco in the Hidden City you’d heard about from April. She’d sent you some pictures from when she’d gone with Sunita and Casey, and then the idea took root.

But it was easier said than done.

Planning to surprise your turtle was difficult primarily for two reasons: the snoop always found out about it in advance (which you’d avoided narrowly this time by not mentioning anything about any plans tonight) and, the most difficult part, trying to get him to choose to go out of the lair, the step you found yourself currently stuck on. Still, you were going to try.

“I don’t know,” you replied coolly, “maybe the fact that it’s supposed to be the end of the week, time to relax or go out or something?”

“Out?”

“Yes. Out. With me. Instead of holing yourself up in the lab or whatever,” you mumbled.

“Out where? Not a lot of Homo sapien-mutant-accepting entertainment establishments come to mind, and, much as I love pretending not to be myself,” he flicked his goggles back down and turned back to his workspace.“I don’t know if I’m really in the mood for it right now.”

“Well.” You didn’t want to say that you knew of one in particular because that sort of spoiled the surprise element of the night. Hesitantly, you suggested, “we can try to look for one?”

He sucked in a breath through his teeth, hand stopping just shy of picking up his welding tool once more. “I don’t know…”

“Could we please just give it a shot?” Hook.

You nudged his arm, mustering up the warmest look you had. Line. “Any time you want to come back or feel uncomfortable, we’re headed right back here.”

Donnie glanced back over to you, and you could discern the exact moment he caved. Sinker. “Sure.”

The next half hour consisted of throwing on sweatshirts, linking arms and whipping out of the lair straight toward one of the many entrances to the Hidden City.

As you wandered through portals, down ramps and bystreets, the turtle you were practically dragging along looked at you exceedingly more quizzically.

“Do you know where you’re going?” Donnie eventually muttered.

“What?” you asked incredulously, quite unconvincingly. “No, of course not. Just meandering randomly. What gave you that impression?”

“Oh, nothing - just the fact that you’re walking with assertion in a seemingly predetermined path.”

A subtle smirk worked its way onto your face. “Maybe.”

He scowled, lighthearted. “Oh, sweet Galileo- why mustn’t you ask me out with you straightforwardly when you already have plans?”

You pulled on his sleeve to direct you two left before pushing the entrance of your location open for him. “Because then I wouldn’t get to see the look on your face when I take you places like this.”

As soon as he stepped foot in the building, you saw the glow in his eyes, his radiant beam, and they were far more beautiful than the already gorgeous venue.

The pictures you’d seen of it looked good, but seeing it in person was even better; with the amber lights and colorful tiled-dance floor and overhead disco ball, the place looked like it was ripped straight out of the 80’s.

“It’s a discotheque, baby!” you grinned, throwing an arm back around his shoulder. “Last one like this within, like, a thousand mile radius.”

“Woah!” Somehow his eyes lit up even more when he looked back at you. It was stunning. “How have I not heard of this place?”

“I mean, that checks out. April recommended it, and apparently it took Sunita forever to find somewhere with a more traditional disco - it only plays 70’s and 80’s hits. You’re welcome.”

Donnie was still stupefied. “Yeah, yeah, whatever you say.”

“I heard they’ve got some tables over there for dining, and that the drinks from there-”

Your hand was gently snatched from the air where it was pointing at a countertop across the room. You looked down at the tridactyl hand holding it, then up its owner.

The turtle grinned, finally pulled from his daze and emphatically lucid. The look in his eyes bore a striking resemblance to the exact one you’d used to get him to agree to come here. “We can get into the dives and dining and whatnot later - for right now, care to dance?”

“I mean, I have a reservation for-”

Another hand on your waist was all it took to shut you up, and slowly walking backwards landed the both of you on floor, and pulling you closer resulted in the both of you grinning and spinning and dancing.

As a myriad of killer songs blasted from the front of the room, you found yourself inundated with a seeping, saccharine satisfaction, partially derived from doing the merengue and cha-cha and some deviant of the Cabbage Patch along with many more improvisations, but mostly from the sheer elation exuded by your dance partner.

Even as you two continued to bounce to Whitney or sway to Prince, his focus stayed on you, eyes locked, with scarcely a moment without a hand or arm making contact with you.

Somehow, just that affectionate attention, that carefree yet caring energy made the efforts of getting him into a social setting and keeping a surprise from the nosiest person in the world abundantly more than worth it.

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ohmyeyesmyeyes · 3 months

Text

cool, cool, okay, okay, cool, cool

joel farabee x f!gotham fc player

summary: sometimes media conferences are just so unbearable you're left with no choice but to immediately seek out the one person with the ability to distract you from the mess of it

warnings: swearing, fluff

word count: 3.5k

“What does a typical year look like for you in terms of where you’re going to be, where you’re planning to be, when you’re not playing soccer or training?”

You looked down at the table, rolling your eyes, before looking up towards the various cameras set up in front of you. The voice that had spoken came somewhere from your right, but with the lights blaring from the cameras, you couldn’t quite make out who it was standing next to it.

The question ran through your mind, and you tried to keep a neutral face when the implications of exactly what they were talking about were clear. You’d stated before that you weren’t comfortable discussing your personal life with the media, even before the whole thing with Joel was rumoured, and despite knowing they’d come back with more pokey, invasive questions this season, it did nothing to help the swell of irritation sparking at your fingertips.

“I’m just here to talk about soccer.” You shrugged uncomfortably, eyes wearily scanning the media crowd, awaiting your next question.

As much as you loved what you did, the worst part of it was definitely having to deal with the media.

“...was wondering what your living situation is now considering Mewis was traded to the WSL?”

You sighed into the microphone, “Uh, it’s not really about soccer, but…” you breathed a laugh. You’d answer this one, though, (even though there was a hint of thinly veiled curiosity about exactly where you were residing and who with) mostly just because it was about Kristie, “Yeah, unfortunately I’m not living with Kristie anymore, but I managed to keep hold of the apartment here which was pretty lucky, and I wish her all the best for her future at West Ham; I know she’s gonna kill it out there.”

There was a general hum as reporters seemed to agree and nod their heads, offering smiles that were bordering dangerously between being a little condescending or pitying, before another voice cut in, this time towards the back, “There’s two more months before your season starts, is there anything in particular that you’re working on to improve your game in the off-season, or have you just been taking a break?”

“You make it seem like taking some time off is a bad thing.” You commented drily, breathing a rather uncomfortable laugh into the microphone.

“Oh, I didn’t mean it in that sense, I was just wondering what you’ve been getting up to in the off-season.”

Fuck.

You inhaled, nodding to bide your time and stall to get your words in the right order, “Yeah, I’ve been resting, trying to recharge for next season and get my mind in order, but I’ve also been training, too.”

“We saw from the Philadelphia Flyers’ hockey team’s socials that you’d also been getting involved there–”

You felt yourself tense.

“And I guess I was just wondering if the Flyers are a team you support in the NHL?”

The breath you’d been holding flew past your lips in a relieved breath, “Yeah, they are. I grew up in a household that were strictly Flyers fans, so it was a pretty special moment getting invited as their guest. I brought my family along, too, which was pretty cool.”

“Did you get a chance to meet Gritty?”

The next laugh was genuine when you nodded, “I did. I was nervous going into that, but I came out alive so I’m taking that as a win. Gritty was great–”

“I know you said you don’t talk about your personal life, and I’m not gonna ask a question, but you were recently pictured leaving a cinema–” you stifled a groan and pressed your hands against your face to shield your reddening cheeks from the cameras. It was bound to come up at some point, and it wasn’t that you didn’t want to talk about Joel, because a small part of you did, but if you did – if – then that’d just distract from your job and more journalists would feel more entitled to ask more questions, and it just wasn’t something you were interested in, “with Flyers’ left wing, Joel Farabee–”

You sighed tiredly, shutting the door behind you, an hour and a bit of travelling back to Philly after the day you’d been subjected to catching up to you. You weren’t technically supposed to be back here until tomorrow, but the first step you’d taken out of that conference room was enough to have you booking an earlier train and risk getting in late, rather than getting the train early in the morning.

The whole of the bottom floor of the house was silent, and your eyes seemed to automatically seek out the expected line of shoes next to the door as you toed your own off, just to gauge who exactly had decided to spend the night. Joel’s you recognised, but there were also another two pairs – most likely belonging to Tyson and Frosty.

You shrugged off your coat, picking up the holdall you’d already had pre-packed from this morning, before tiptoeing up the staircase, mindful for any possible light sleepers, ensuring not to step on a creaky floorboard. There was a small light on in the hallway, and the door to Joel’s room was cracked open slightly, a murmur of sound and flashing lights seeping through from the TV.

You paused on the landing, peeking your head around and concentrating on the sound.

The fucker was watching a rerun of your conference from earlier.

Your feet decided to move before your brain could even realise what was happening, because before you could wallow in the fact that he’d clearly known you were on your way back earlier and purposefully left the hall lamp on, you’d pushed open the door a slither more to sneak through without making too much noise, and were greeted with a softly smiling Joel – his eyes fixed onto the conference before flicking to you in the doorway.

“You’re such a sight for sore eyes.” You sighed gratefully, taking in his PJ-clad form lounged casually on top of the covers. He had one arm resting on the top of his head rather lazily, his other draped across his torso.

“Well, I’m always glad to be of service.” He grinned, pushing himself to sit up, his arms now resting across his kneecaps, “That bad, huh?” He gestured to the screen at the foot of his bed, and you nodded, dropping your bag on top of the covers and leaning down for a much-needed kiss.

“It started off fine, but right about now,” you nodded, cringing, “you can tell they’re trying to get nosy.”

“I hate it when they do that.” He agreed solemnly, not saying much else, but watching you with intrigued, patient eyes as you dug around in your bag.

You shot him a glance, taking in the eye bags and bleary blinks as he fought off sleep, “You didn’t have to wait up for me, y’know?” You murmured, unable to help smiling – both at the soft man in front of you, and at the triumph of finally locating what you were looking for.

Joel just shrugged, albeit a little bashfully, “I figured…I don’t know, I just missed you.”

You felt a small lump gather in your throat at his honest confession, and you fought off the sudden emotion that seemed to be the consequence of your fatigue and refusal to sleep on the train, and chose to throw the bag on the floor – gently – and climb on the bed. Joel seemed to expect that kind of reaction, because before you’d even done any of that he was lifting your side of the duvet up with a smile that just blew your damn mind every time you saw it.

The shirt clutched in your grip, you followed him, climbing under the covers and automatically going to lay on your side, face-to-face with Joel, who’d tucked one arm under his pillow and had one leg draped over yours to pull you closer.

“I missed you, too.”

“‘S that why you came back earlier?” He teased gently, still blinking slowly.

You reached a free hand up to run through his hair, relishing in the way his eyes seemed to flutter closed and the slight lean into your touch, “Yeah.” You whispered.

At your voice his eyes reopened, looking all the more exhausted than mere seconds before, and before you could even say anything he was yawning loudly and stretching his arms over his head before using the momentum to roll…right onto you.

Despite the clenched fist, you wrapped your arms across the broad expanse of his shoulders, pressing a quick kiss to his messed hair, smothering a delicate laugh when he groaned against your collarbone, “What did you do today that’s got you so tired at nine in the evening?” You asked softly, carding a hand through the back of his hair.

Any previous effort he’d made to keep some of his body weight off you was forgotten when he physically melted in your arms at the sensation, a muffled, incoherent mumble tumbling from his lips.

“Sorry?”

He lifted his head off your skin ever so slightly, his eyes still shut but looking in your general vicinity, and you couldn’t help it when your finger traced the bridge of his nose affectionately, once more causing his eyes to fly open at the sudden contact, jumping slightly at the sudden intrusion.

You welcomed the attention though, something he seemed to catch up on by the way the corner of his mouth twitched slightly.

“Me and Frosty got dragged to an entire afternoon of Padel with Tys.” He sighed dramatically, “And I’m jet lagged, I think. Maybe. I don’t know, it’s like all the tiredness has just accumulated and I’ve been in bed since, like, six.”

“Poor you.”

He blinked, raising an eyebrow, “Well, excuse me–”

“No, I wasn’t being sarcastic.” You interrupted, trying not to laugh at the hurt expression on his face, “I don’t think.”

He rolled his eyes, flopping back into his previous position against you, and you felt a stab of guilt for what you were about to do, “Joel?” You poked him, once more rousing him from a much-needed sleep.

He groaned audibly, lifting his head from your shoulder, keeping his eyes glued shut to ward out the harsh lights emanating from the TV. Your conference was still playing in the background, and although the volume was on the lowest setting you knew he could still hear it.

“Two things,” you started, lifting the hand with the shirt up into his eyeline, and despite having them previously shut, the disturbance in light must have indicated that you were shoving something in his face, because he blinked his eyes open, staring at the black and white stripes, “This was waiting for me in my locker this morning – I got my new kit today and it seemed like someone on the team said something to the kit people, because…”

You trailed off, an awkward smile on your face. Your relationship with Joel was fairly new; not new in the sense that you’d only been dating a few months but new in the sense that this would be the first season you’d start with him as your boyfriend, all the way over in Philly. He’d also given you something similar back in September before the regular NHL season started, and as his eyes scanned over the material scrunched in your fist, there seemed to be some kind of recognition of his parallel moment with you because he pushed himself up and out of bed, taking the shirt from your hands gently.

He didn’t say much, just slowly unravelled the material. His jaw had dropped somewhere along the way, but his eyes didn’t falter as they roved across the expanse of the front of the jersey, taking in the new design, fingers tracing absently over the embroidered logos. Just as you were about to encourage him to turn it over, he did so, expelling a short breath as he took in your surname and number printed there.

“Is this your new home jersey?” He mumbled, turning to you with some kind of astonishment in his eyes.

You nodded, knowing he hadn’t quite gotten what it was that you’d intended to convey, “Yeah.”

Then, with a flicker of hope igniting on your chest, he gasped softly, “Am I allowed to see this now if it hasn’t been released to the fans?”

You raised a brow, blinking at him.

You loved him, you loved him so much, but sometimes he just made teasing him a little bit too easy. In this case you couldn’t tell if he was a little hesitant to make assumptions, or if he was just downright oblivious as to why you’d given him the jersey, but you smiled nonetheless.

“Yeah, the new kits are gonna be released tomorrow.” You continued, hoping that he’d at least catch on soon.

But he just nodded, “This is so cool.”

Right then.

“Glad you think so, because it’s yours.” You admitted, watching his face carefully.

He froze, the shirt getting a little more crumpled in his grip as he stared at you, lips parted in shock, “Mine?”

You just hummed, biting your lip to stop your grin from splitting your cheeks, and instead moved to show him the inside label of the shirt, not oblivious to the heat of his faze on the side of your face as you did so, “Look at the sizing, and also,” you lifted the bottom of the shirt up, flipping it inside out to show him the customised piece you’d requested to be added, “your name is printed on the inside of the shirt, right where your heart is. I mean, it’s not on mine, but this one’s customised for you–”

“I’m in love with you.”

You inhaled sharply, head snapping to look at him. His gaze was so intense you could almost feel it burning your skin, and despite the shock that had been painfully clear on his face mere seconds before, there wasn’t a single trace of it there now. In fact, he looked a little nervous, something that not only combatted his usual demeanour, but also the conviction with which he’d just stated those five words, yet there was a hint of a smile on his lips.

Like he was relieved he’d thrown the words out there.

You’d thought about this moment with Joel before, hundreds of times. You expected you’d feel somewhat changed by the knowledge that the person you love also loves you too, like your DNA would alter and you would feel noticeably different, but instead you were crushed by a wave of calm.

It felt an awful lot like unadulterated happiness.

“I’m in love with you too.” You said, delighting in the way his grin seemed to grow and all nerves seemed to be extinguished at your reciprocation.

Gosh, he was just so infectious in everything he did.

It kind of drove you crazy, especially when you’d come down from a big loss and you’d FaceTime him in different timezones, and all you really wanted to do was rant, but the fucker was sitting pretty in your phone grinning straight at you and all previous anger just always seemed to dissipate instantly. It annoyed you that you couldn’t control that kind of thing, but the peace and the calm he allowed you to feel even after a mere conversation was unlike anything you’d ever experienced. It was divine.

“Cool.” He nodded, his grin not dimming a single bit, even as he tore his attention away from you to the shirt laid on the bed.

“Cool.” You echoed, shrugging.

You wanted to laugh, but you held it in for Joel’s exhausted sake.

“You said there were two things?” He turned back to you, grabbing the back of his PJ shirt with his hand and yanking it unceremoniously over his head to toss it to the end of the bed. You barely had a chance to get a word in for ogling him before he’d thrown your jersey on and pushed himself from the bed to stand in front of the mirror.

You let him check himself out in the shirt, which seemed to fit him spectacularly well, “You look so good. Like, insanely gorgeous.”

He flushed a little bit, but played it off by pretending to tense his guns in your direction, “I do?”

You nodded, breathing an amused laugh at his antics, “You always do, but even more so in that jersey.”

“Did you know,” he started, throwing himself back on the bed next to you, “that you’re the only person I’d ever wear a soccer shirt for?”

You pursed your lips, tilting your head, “I don’t think that’s the compliment you intended it to be.”

“I just mean that in the sense that – I mean, of course I like soccer – but I’d only ever wear your name on the back of a jersey, or have your team on the front.” He elaborated, throwing his arm across your shoulders to draw you closer, “But thank you for this, I love it.” He said into your hair.

You turned your head, catching his mouth with your own, and enjoying the moment, before pulling away, much to his dismay, “Would you ever wear a Canada jersey?”

He paused, pulling an unsure face, “Again, only if it was a soccer one with your name on it.”

“Likewise with yours, for future reference, by the way.” You rested a finger on his chin, using the leverage to turn his head towards the TV, “And the second thing: you’re probably going to want to watch the end of this conference.”

You felt his face contort from where your hand rested on his cheek, and without even thinking much about it, you leant forward to press a delicate kiss against his cheekbone, breathing a laugh when he scrunched up his face and manoeuvred you to his mouth once more, where you placed one, two, three kisses, before pulling away to answer his question, your cheeks warm.

“They ask about you.”

He stayed still, but you knew his eyes had flickered to the screen, right to where the you from hours ago was sitting at a long table, a hoodie and cap on, looking as awkward and out of place as you felt, in front of a row of cameras and lights, with question after question being fired at you.

“They do?” He whispered, turning his head to look at you to gauge your reaction.

“Yeah. Well, kind of. They start hinting at it with the last few questions.” You don’t meet his eyes, your own attention fixated on you on the screen, and just as you went to move in the conference, there was a slither of something that caught your eye, “No way. Fuck.” You mutter, feeling Joel pull away a little from where his cheek was resting against the side of your head comfortably.

“What’s wrong?”

You reach across him to find the remote, before pausing the TV and turning to look at him with an uncertain glance, “This hoodie, I always forget it, but the zipper’s a bit broken, and if I move too much, the zip falls down.” You pulled the zip about a quarter of the way down, seeing Joel’s eyes widen in realisation, before he turned to the TV, only to see the exact same image staring right at him.

“Oh.” His lips were parted in shock, but he didn’t look particularly angry or irritated by what he saw. In fact, there was a mischievous tilt to his mouth, and before long his shoulder began to shake with an effort not to laugh at the entire thing.

You, however, had a more pressing issue, “Is that okay with you?”

He stopped laughing, turning to face you, “Of course it is. Is it okay with you?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

You reached to press play once more, trying not to wince whenever the black Flyers shirt under your Gotham zip-up was made abundantly clear. No wonder they’d started asking you about Philly and no wonder that journalist had mentioned the cinema trip with Joel.

Of fucking course.

You were thrown out of your own head when Joel cackled loudly at the screen, climbing back under the covers.

“What?” You asked, following his motions, a smile on your face, mostly because he was also smiling.

“I had no clue we were spotted leaving ‘Anyone But You’.” He breathed, tucking his hand under his head as he leant back against the pillows, looking significantly more awake than he had earlier, “Is it cool if I wear this jersey for the walk-in for my next game?”

Your eyes slid over to him, taking in the uncertainty in his features; his brows were raised in an effort to tell you that he wouldn’t mind if you said no to him. He was asking if it was okay with you to confirm your relationship.

You felt your teeth catch your bottom lip, trying to stifle the blush sweeping across your cheeks and the smile threatening to break though, “Yeah, it’s cool.”

“Awesome.” He grinned cheekily, a little smug at your failure to hide your true feelings from him, and you shook your head at the glint in his eye, “Love you, honey.”

You just blinked at him, lips pursed in a still-dire effort to not smile at him.

“Say it back.”

“Love you too, Joel.”

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