#it makes the whole story feel so much more full and reminds you that these are still people with their own shit happening

[idkvomite]

Satoru x gn!reader ୨୧ WARNING: Angst. Inspired by Let The Light In because yes. I recommend listening to the song while reading.

You remember very well the first time you crossed eyes with Satoru. That confident smile, the light, loud laugh, the signature black blindfold, and above all, those blue eyes. They reminded you of the ocean, the morning sky, the calm beach days. He was the perfect man. More than perfect. He was your crush at Jujutsu Tech.

Crush?

That word makes you smile to yourself, because the memories of when you were an immature teenager, full of ideas about love, now seem so far away. Like when you used to fall for any TV heartthrob, feeling butterflies in your stomach, not knowing if it was a fleeting crush or something deeper. Shoko would always tell you that you liked every guy in the world, as if it were natural, but that only happened because you hadn’t found someone like him until that moment.

The memories keep playing like scenes from a movie, until finally, that day arrives—the day you spoke for the first time. That dumb mission that left you with a swollen, bruised eye, barely able to walk for days. And he had to save you, like always, with that calm gaze, as if it was easy for him—and it was. Your pride was bruised for needing his help. But, as always, he didn’t seem to care. He was Satoru Gojo, after all. And you, afraid of being seen as weak, found yourself sinking even deeper into a desire you couldn’t even explain at that moment. You weren’t just in love with what he was anymore, but with what he did to your heart, even without realizing it.

Deep down, you always knew he would never be the guy you could have. Never the kind of person you could hold without fear, without wondering what he really felt. Always so distant, so out of reach. Still, year after year, you stayed there, following him, like a spectator lost in a never-ending story. Until he became something more. A refuge, an obsession, an impossible dream.

Until he became your everything.

But now, when you see him there, cut in half, his insides spilling out, and the immense pain still lingering in the air, you realize everything was an illusion. Nothing was real. What was left of Satoru Gojo was just a piece of the man you once knew.

The fight against Sukuna had been brutal. They exchanged blows so strong it felt like the whole world was shaking with each impact. But what couldn’t be ignored was what was in Satoru’s eyes: exhaustion, pain, and the certainty of an ending. He knew he couldn’t escape. He knew it was over. And worst of all, you knew too.

— Satoru... — your voice falters as you kneel beside him. The words slip out, as if hearing his name was the only thing that could make a sound, but he can’t hear it anymore. Satoru Gojo’s final battle was against his own fate, and he lost.

You watch his gaze, still vivid, even with his body torn apart.

— I know — he whispers, his voice faint. — I know, I’m sorry, [your name].

His breathing is irregular, blood seeping from the wounds in his body. Yet he smiles. He’s still Satoru, the guy who never showed fear, the guy who never let anyone see what was happening inside.

— I... — He pauses for a moment, as if the pain is too much to continue, but then he gathers strength. — I know it’s not the right time... but you need to know... I had dreams too.

Those words hit you like a punch. Dreams? The strongest man, the unbeatable one, also had dreams?

You hold his hand, his cold, trembling fingers in yours. He smiles back, but it’s a tired smile, the kind that knows he’s about to leave.

— Yes. I had a dream. A silly dream... of being a normal human. — He continues.

You cling to those words, as if they could keep you grounded. As if by hearing them, you could believe he was still here, still existing. But deep down, you know you’re losing him, and there’s nothing you can do.

His eyelids flutter slowly, heavy as though they weighed a thousand tons. The last look he gives you is filled with something you can’t quite understand, something that perhaps he had kept just for you, something that transcends even death.

— You... will live, right? At least a little longer. — He asks suddenly, changing the subject. His voice falters, but the words come with such a heavy weight, so full of goodbye, that you feel an intense ache in your chest.

Then he smiles again, as if finally surrendering to the peace he had been seeking for so long. But before his eyes close for the last time, he whispers, almost like a secret shared only between you two:

— I love you, you know?

Those words echo in your mind, clearer than anything you’ve ever heard. You can’t respond. Silence takes over, as if the universe had paused just so you could absorb that truth, that farewell. And so, he goes. Without a sound. Without warning. Just silence, and a world that seems to have stopped spinning around you.

You know that his dream of being normal was buried with him. And you, who always got lost in the memories of his blue eyes, now have to find a way to go on without him.

Because in the end, his dreams were more real than you ever imagined. Finally, you understand that the strongest man was just like you—just a human, someone ordinary with his own desires and feelings, someone who longed for something more and couldn’t reach it.

[jemmo]

also can i just say that now that we know what went down between jaewon and eunji, it makes her behaviour all the more understandable and all the more unforgiveable. bc she is compensating. she knows she did something bad and hurtful and the guilt of what she did makes her overcompensate in her behaviour with jaewon. she is both more flirty and pandering but also more demanding and needy and harsh, all to try and make up for what she did when the only way to start atoning for it is to be honest and admit it. instead, when jaewon breaks up with her, still thinking he doesnt know the truth of the matter, its almost like she gets offended. like he doesnt know what i did, and i keep telling him its not true, why would he do that? why doesnt he believe me, or trust me? yet she is the one that has already broken trust, she is the one lying. and its all the more reason for her to turn against jihyun, bc not only is jaewon moving on with someone else, not only does he represent what she lost, but he has this pure, innocent, honest air which is everything she’s not, and it makes her dislike him all the more bc she cannot avoid those things about herself. and it even makes jaewon returning to her more understandable, bc when he is self-sabotaging, when he does think the worst of himself, maybe he thinks this is all i deserve, a woman who cheats on me and lies to me and makes me feel like the bad guy, it all feeds in to him taking blame that doesnt belong to him. her whole thing is wanting to win, but this is not someone beating her, this is a loss she inflicted on herself and she cant deal with that. in a way, its like a twisted parallel of jaewon, the way their behaviour overcompensates for something they dont want to admit or accept, except jaewon needs to accept that he is blameless while eunji needs to accept blame. and i love that seeing this new light to her actions makes them no better, in fact it kind of makes them more horrid, but theyre horrid bc you understand where they’re coming from, and it makes it easier to see how she can go about becoming a better person. its like she’s humanised by us seeing the full extent of her wrongdoings, bc now she isnt some faceless evil, she’s a person who needs to learn how to treat people better and be willing to admit she isnt perfect. and i hope she does. 

[ennn]

Things I Liked About the Agatha All Along Finale - Initial Thoughts

Wooooo boy. Hey look I'm a bleeding heart shipper but I'm old and have been in enough fandoms. Let's process shall we?

Alice! Alice echo-ing what so many fans are saying about her lost potential. Rio actually being kind in reminding Alice her death did have purpose. "You're a protection witch, you protected someone."

The development of Billy's extremely complicated relationship with Agatha. Kid's not loyal to Agatha, he's understanding her, or starting to at least. He sees her being a relationship with Death and he's curious about the story there. He cares enough to connect the dots and see Agatha as a full person. And we see that developed as the finale goes.

"That's it? That's all the time that I get?" The show reminds us that death sometimes just happens – "Sometimes boys die" – I wonder if one of these writers is a Sandman fan because I immediately clocked a parallel to Death of the Endless taking a baby's life in her first comic appearance.

Death of the Endless is of course much kinder than Rio is with her (iconic) reply to that eternal question. "You lived what anyone gets... A lifetime."

That whole convo we got in the preview clip. And then them just sitting down and talking more? Albeit with layers of manipulation but y'know that's them.

Agatha telling Rio that she'll hand over Billy if Rio leaves her alone: essentially making Rio once again choose between her duty and her feelings towards Agatha. The deepest cut Agatha could make – which we see echoed with "If you do this I'll hate you forever." They know each other and the best ways to hurt each other.

I laughed waaaay too much at Agatha ragging on Jen's last vegetable name.

Jen's unbinding ritual was powerful and a fantastic moment for the character. She recognised and embraced her power. Agatha's mask slipping a little at the end as well. Amazing. Sasheer killed it.

The whole scene with Agatha working with Billy to bring Tommy back was beautiful and emotional and well put together and showed the side to Agatha that cements her as a great mentor (when she's not being the biggest murderous asshole).

Agatha using what she learnt from her Alice and Jen – and what Lilia told her – to hold her ground with Rio... okay it lasted like 10 seconds but it was a nice callback! Agatha's such a shameless survivor.

Incredible kissing. We knew Hahn and Plaza would deliver and they did. When it comes to kissing women, these two absolutely go for it.

Rio looking absolutely gutted with having to take Nicky away. Plaza really delivered with Rio's pain in these eps. Agatha calling her "my love", cursing and then begging.

Rio being soft about Nicky despite her job. Nicky willingly going with her with no fear, no hesitation – suggesting that they did bond somehow? Nicky knew she was a friendly face and trusted her. It was really a good death, all things considered. He wasn't sick, he wasn't in pain, he wasn't scared he simply fell asleep and just went.

Rio reminding Nicky to kiss his mom goodbye. She cares so much, as much as a personification of death can. It's funny how some people thought Rio was going to be this manipulative big bad but no, Agatha's the more toxic one in this relationship.

Okay like imagine Agatha finally dying and just straight up BOOKING it before Rio pops up. Rio hates ghosts. The number of times Agatha deliberately pissed her off this finale was amazing.

"I'm sure he'll forgive you for... whatever you did." Aw Billy is a good kid. Just like Nicky was. Agatha needs that reminder, that anchor to not be the Worst.

Chemistry aside, Agatha and Billy being mentor-pupil makes a ton of sense because these Maximoffs do the most fucked up shit (unintentionally) with their magic and Agatha's got the knowledge, charisma, cynicism, and the morals of a spinning compass to support him.

Alright when are they announcing the sequel / spin-off? I know there's a rumour of it happening. Rio's got 2 abominations and one endlessly aggravating ghost of an ex to deal with now.

[princessbrunette]

you knew you shouldn’t be doing this. it was embarrassing. you were like a drunk cat mewling on toxicex!johnb’s patio instead of going home and dealing with your feelings like a big girl.

you’d been on a date. kind of. well not really — he stood you up. you were all dressed up too, ready to rub it all in john b’s face that you were moving on. you’d planned it to a T — snap a little picture for your story that would make it clear you’re on a date, or maybe subtly bring it up in conversation next time you saw your ex. all that scheming and plotting, just to end up in tears on his patio.

you were actually planning on leaving. you thought maybe coming to the chateau would ground you enough to remind you of why you were broken up in the first place. however, you’d let one pathetic mewl out just a bit too loudly and out came john b, staring in confusion at you perched on his patio with your head in your hands. he clears his throat.

“hey. uh… you can’t be out here… okay? skeeters.” you think he’s going to shoo you away, give you something else to cry about — but as he speaks you feel his coarse hand wrap around your arm, gently hauling you to your feet. “c’mon. inside. there ya go.” he purses his lips, following you in before walking past you.

“so what’s it gonna be today? hm?” he deadpans in the warm, croony voice that would usually make you wanna melt right into his arms.

having gotten yourself into quite the state, you violently wipe your snot and tears away with the back of your wrist, shaking your head as you suck in a wobbly breath. “i can’t!” is all you manage to squeak out and he sighs.

“look, i wanna help you, because crazily enough i do still very much care about you — but i can’t help you if you don’t tell me. not a mind reader.” he shrugs, hoping the casual attitude would coax it out of you as he wanders over to the kitchen to fetch you a glass of water. you follow him like a lost puppy, and when the glass is full he holds it to your lips. the physical contact calms you enough to behave in a more subdued manner.

“i got stood up.” you croak, defeated. john b places the glass down on the side before staring at you for a moment.

“is that it?”

“what do you mean is that it— it hurt my feelings, god you’re such a jerk john b—” this only inspired a fresh batch of tears as you turn away, heading to leave but he stops you — hands on your shoulders, resisting an eye roll.

“i was literally just asking. take a breath. let’s go and sit down and talk about it.”

for whatever reason, you end up beside him on his bed. you truly couldn’t believe yourself, one little thing goes wrong and you’re immediately off to go and snitch to your ex boyfriend.

“can i ask… why you came here? like… did you want me to beat this guy up or—”

“—no—”

“‘cause look, sure he’s a douchebag but he could have his reasons you know? i don’t know if i wanna —”

“thats not why i’m here!” you silence him, visibly upset and he quietens— leaning back against the headboard in silence as he waits for an explanation. “i was gonna leave.” you speak after a pause, fiddling with the familiar bed sheets you’d seen one too many times. “i guess i just… i needed to ground myself. this is a familiar place. i just wanted the comfort for a moment and then i was gonna go home.”

“the chateau is like,” he holds out a hand in gesture. “way… way out of your way home. so… that can’t be why. just saying.”

you don’t know what to say. you truly don’t, so you choose to stay silent, glancing up at him through your lashes all pouty and sorry for yourself. he tilts his head to the side, eyes softening.

“you wanted me to fuck you about it. didn’t you?” he rasps just as softly, but the question makes your heartrate spike.

“what?”

he presses his lips together, shaking his head in disapproval of the whole situation. “so you came here… after you got stood up, dressed all cute, just to sit on my patio? ‘that what this is?”

“well— i don’t know—”

“you wanted me to fuck you and make it better. no, it is — okay, that’s what you always want.” he fixes the cap on his head before holding his hands up in defence, avoiding your eyes as he literally argues with himself. “look— we talked about this. it just can’t happen anymore. it’s not good for you, and it’s not good for me, and i can promise it’s not gonna fix any of your wounds.”

“okay! that’s fine! i never said i wanted you to fuck me, john b. just came up with that yourself!” you huff, crossing your arms sulkily.

“good!” he shakes his head, eyes wide and brows raised as he stares at you. you hold his gaze for a moment before staring at your own hands again. so what did you want?

you feel john b soften, a gentle sigh leaving him as he continues to gaze at you. a minute or so passes of this pensive silence before he speaks. “come here.” its kind, warm, like he used to be and he opens his arms to you sympathetically. you don’t miss the opportunity to hug him, bask in his heat and comfort. he was just being there for you, comforting you after you got stood up after all.

you sit like that for a moment, his arms around you — and when he pulls back, he looks at you different. you stare back, and soon — you’re kissing.

a kiss turns to tongues rolling over eachother languidly soon enough, and like clockwork — you feel him tug at the waistband of your skirt.

“take this off, yeah?” he mutters against your lips, and though you know you should walk away, you simply don’t have the strength.

[gurugirl]

Must be nice | bfd!harry

Summary: You and Harry feel like everything's coming together perfectly. You're both getting all the things you wanted. But when you run into Fae while shopping and she notices something new about you, it bursts your little happy bubble.

Partly based on this request!

Word Count: 3.4k

Warning: 18+ only, smut, age gap, angst, uncomfortable confrontation, pregnancy stuff 👀

Best Friend's Dad!Harry masterlist | Main Masterlist

. .

You had a feeling before it was confirmed. Harry had already started getting the small bedroom closest to the master bedroom ready; painted, new crib, little toys, a changing table. You joked with him about how it was probably bad luck to begin before you’d even taken the test but he reminded you of how your intuition told you he’d gotten you knocked up.

“Besides, if not now, then soon.”

He might have been more excited about it than you were. Which surprised you honestly. You weren’t even married yet, he was freshly divorced, and his daughter was hardly speaking to him.

Sometimes you wondered if he was throwing himself at this new life, new family, to suffocate the thoughts he had about what he’d done. You hated to think that he was feeling guilt and that the only way he could get his head above water was to pretend everything was okay.

But then again, you were doing the same thing. It hurt too much to get into your head about everything. About how you’d ruined your relationship with your best friend and in turn, ruined her relationship with her father. So, there was guilt there, you just preferred to pretend things were perfectly fine.

And things were fine. Really. You got what you wanted in the end. Whether or not you deserved it was another story altogether.

So when you did finally take that test you’d been waiting for and it had two pink lines across the readout, even though you already knew it, you were still excited. Over the moon.

Harry was out of his mind. He took off two days of work to hang out with you and “celebrate” as he called it. Which just entailed him waiting on you hand and foot and making you realize that he was the best thing that had ever happened to you. It was hard to regret everything that had gone down when Harry treated you like a Queen.

When you told your mom, Harry was with you. He insisted on being there. He was trying not to tell her before you did so you had to just spit it out and say it. Harry pulled your mom into his arms and kissed her on the top of her head the moment you got the words out, “I’m pregnant!”

Part of you thought there would be more shame around the whole thing but Harry seemed like a child full of joy. It made you ecstatic to be carrying his baby. He was thrilled and so you would be too. It was easy to feel like things were idyllic and sweet when Harry was so thrilled. It kind of rubbed off on you.

Four months after settling in the new house and two months after finding out you’d been knocked up you and Harry had a few people over for a small party. He’d begun on the garden and it was looking just darling so he wanted to have people over to show off the house a bit.

Harry was set up at the grill with a beer in hand while you were talking to the wife of one of his coworkers and plating sliced veggies and dip in the kitchen. Everyone but you had an alcoholic drink. You didn’t know if that would be obvious or not but Harry didn’t care if anyone else knew. You figured it was just a matter of time before he couldn’t keep his mouth shut anyway.

Everyone invited was someone Harry knew from work. You didn’t really have many friends and the ones you did, you weren’t so sure about having over. Paloma was nosey and disingenuous you felt, and she was still friends with Fae so you knew she’d be reporting back everything. Fae had been your closest friend before everything and ever since losing your job at the restaurant you lost touch with the ones you were closest with. That left you with very few people you felt you could trust other than your mother.

“I am in love with this kitchen,” Shelcin gushed before sipping her wine.

“It’s really nice. We love it here.”

The woman leaned back and peeked into the living room before stepping in closer to you, “Can I just… I want to say something and I hope it doesn’t come off as offensive but I can’t help but wonder how you two moved along this quickly. I mean I know he’s divorced now and you were with him during all that,” she paused and settled her hand on the granite counter, “But… you guys must have really gotten serious quickly. For him to just move on like that.”

You tried not to let the shock show on your face. You knew people knew, mostly, but to be asked about it so directly? You hadn’t been prepared.

Clearing your throat you looked Shelcin directly in the eyes, “Well, we’ve been together, technically, for over a year at this point. And it wasn’t an overnight thing. We know what we did was not good but we just… we fell in love. Wanted to be together.”

“Over a year. I didn’t realize it had been that long. I knew something about Harry getting a divorce and that he met you before the divorce was final. So you two…” she raised her glass along with her eyebrows, “Again… not trying to offend. I’m just curious. You don’t have to answer, but he left his wife for you? You came before any talk of divorce?”

Looking over your shoulder out the window to see Harry looking pleased as he spoke to two of the guys outside you looked back at the woman, “Yes. I’m the reason they got divorced.”

Shelcin leaned her hip into the counter and grinned, “I like you. I never met his ex, so don’t worry. I’m not taking sides. But I can see how much he loves you. That dinner we all went to last month? He couldn’t stop staring at you. It’s really sweet actually. I wish Ken looked at me like that.”

You felt like you could let your guard down suddenly. Her smile and reassurance felt nice. You’d have to get used to answering questions about it you supposed and she hadn’t been catty about it, at least.

“Yeah, he’s great. I feel lucky that he loves me so much because I love him like crazy.”

“I noticed you’re not drinking. Any reason in particular?”

You laughed and shook your head, “You are kind of nosy, aren’t you?”

The laugh that belted from her chest had you laughing harder. It felt good to talk about it and laugh. To not take it so seriously.

Shelcin nodded, “I am nosy. Pardon. It’s the Colombiana in me. If I start asking things that make you uncomfortable you can just ignore me or tell me to shut up. So… is that a question you want to answer?”

Biting your lip you lifted the plate of sliced veggies and motioned your head at her to follow you as you turned to step outside into the backyard. The two other women who were there with their husbands were sitting at the patio set chatting as you sat the plate down.

Turning back toward Shelcin you placed your hand on your hip and glanced at Harry before looking at her, “There is a reason. And right now only Harry and my mother know so don’t say anything.”

Her eyes widened as she leaned in and whispered in your ear, “You’re pregnant?”

You nodded as she moved away and she raised her glass up with a nod at you before taking another sip.

“Burgers are just about done, babe! Sit down! I’ll take care of the rest,” Harry pointed at you.

You had been nervous to have people over but it turned out you had a spectacular time. Shelcin kept you laughing and her prying questions made you uncomfortable but by the end of it all, you realized you didn’t need to be uncomfortable. What was done was done. Life is messy, as she kept saying. Not everyone needed to know everything but you felt like you could finally let go of some of your regrets. It felt freeing to talk about it with someone else.

Harry was with you at every appointment and as your tummy grew little by little he seemed to only get more attached to you and the baby. He called you at lunch every day while he was at work to see how you were feeling, he doted on you, made sure you were taking your vitamins and getting plenty of treats.

And he was kind of supercharged sexually as well. It was like putting a baby in you turned him into some kind of sex-obsessed fiend.

You loved that he found you so sexy. But there were days when you couldn’t imagine him sticking his penis inside of you. He never made you feel guilty about it but you could tell he was pent up because any time you gave him any inkling of feeling needy he was all over you. Some weeks you wanted it all the time, others not so much. Your hormones determined how you felt but Harry was just happy to take what you’d give him.

And this week you were horny. You’d called him the day before on his lunch break and he came home right away to take care of you. And right then, as he was working in the garden with his shirt off and his muscles gleaming from sweat, his lats looking extra strong as he bent at the waist to dig the trowel into the dirt you stepped outside with him and admired his fit body, the tattoos, his big hands…

He turned to look at you over his shoulder and smiled, “Hey baby. What’s up?”

Biting your lip you took another step closer and danced your fingers over his sweaty shoulder blades, “Just watching. You’re working so hard. Why don’t you come in for a bit? Take a break.”

Harry dropped the trowel and stood up, turned to face you, and looked you up and down, “All right. Whatever you want. Come on, baby,” he took your hand and led you to the door. You could see it on his face that he knew what you wanted.

When he tried to take a quick shower you nearly got on your knees and begged him to just take you to bed right then and there.

You ran your hands up to his shoulders and leaned in to kiss his pecks, “Don’t. I want you now.”

Harry laughed, “Baby, I’m all sweaty and stinky.”

You inhaled and (god you were insane or something) moaned, “You smell so good, Harry. I don’t know what it is but I don’t think I’ve ever been more turned on in my entire life. I want to devour you right now.”

Harry had barely gotten you into bed, your panties pulled down when you pushed him to his back and tore his shorts and underwear off his legs. You wanted him in your mouth. You were going to cry if you didn’t get to taste him. The pungent, masculine scent of him had your mouth watering. Which was funny because you were finding so many scents you once loved, off-putting lately. So to be as turned on as you were by Harry’s sweat surprised you. But there was no time to think about it.

You gave him a good glob of your saliva and smoothed it over him as he tucked his hands behind his head and watched you with a smirk. But you wiped that smirk right off his face when you took him down your throat and began gagging around him. His eyes widened and he gurgled a moan as he pushed himself up just a bit to watch you.

His hands were on your face and at the back of your head as bobbed over him and drooled down his shaft. You’d never sucked him off like that before but there was something so enticing about him right then.

“Holy fuck, Y/n… shit…”

You gasped as you pulled off, your hand wrapped around his base, and grinned, “This big cock, Harry…” you dipped down and licked over his tip with your eyes on his, “You use it so well. Makes me feel so good. Got me pregnant with it…” you wrapped your lips over his crown and lowered again, feeling his length push into the back of your throat before you lifted off again, “Deserves all my devotion. Wanna suck it, and feel it, and have all over me, inside of me...”

You were probably delirious. Your hormones had been raging and you were having the nastiest thoughts all day about Harry. He was easy to fantasize about. Gorgeous and tall, kind and gentle… and then there were times when he fucked you into oblivion and you imagined all the filthy things you two had done…

Harry pulled you off of him when you started to go to town again, his words were breathy, “What’s gotten into you, baby? Act like you’ve never seen my dick before.”

You laughed and pulled your cotton, stretchy dress over your head and then your bra with it, tits bouncing out and Harry’s eyes flitting between your breasts and your face, “I’m so horny, Harry. It’s just my hormones,” you grinned as you straddled his lap and smoothed your palms over his chest, “And you are so fucking sexy and you were just out there in the garden, sweating with this big cock between your legs hidden under your shorts…” you gripped his shaft and pointed the tip right at your aching entrance (yes, you were already aching) before putting your weight over it to slide yourself down his length until you were both moaning together.

Sex while pregnant wasn’t that different at first, but as the months drew on and your tummy got bigger, things had to be modified. You were on top a lot and doggystyle was a go-to when you were too tired to ride him. But one of the biggest differences was how fast you’d come.

Shifting your hips back and forth you reveled in the feel of Harry’s whole cock lodged inside of you. He was so stiff and heavy, so thick… you would never get tired of how good he felt. But having him while you were pregnant and extra sensitive and emotional was kind of addicting.

His hands traced over your tummy and up to your tits before he reached down and planted his big palms on your ass, helping you slide forward and back. He began to thrust up, hitting that deep spot that always made you gasp, “Fuck, Harry!”

Your nerve endings were sizzling with need as you rocked over him harder and he drove into you from his spot below as gently as he could manage. He wanted to pound into you until you were crying, watch your pussy spread open for him as you squeezed your eyes closed but he had to take it easy. You were carrying his baby after all.

But that drove him wild. Seeing your belly swollen and your tits grow heavy was the hottest thing he’d seen. And he’d done that to you. Made his official claim on you. Anyone who saw you together recently knew what was up. You were his girl. He was the one who got to have you.

You felt the heat of your orgasm spread and spread as your pussy slid over him and Harry’s tip nudged through your walls and squished into your deepest spot. “Fuck, you coming, baby? Does that feel good?” He panted his words as he watched you drop your head back and you whined a wet moan into the room. Harry finished you off with his knees bent and his feet planted flat on the mattress as he rutted up into you, plunging in to let you feel all of him as you pulsed around his cock.

Harry watched your pretty tits bounce as he fucked into you and then felt his release course through his balls, up into his length, and pump inside of you in heavy, hot throbs.

When oxygen had returned to your lungs you looked down at his face. His half-lidded eyes, heaving chest, and parted lips with borders edged upward in a satisfied grin – handsome and all yours.

.                 .                 .

“I think this one is better. I like the strawberry more. Or should we just get both?” Harry asked as he held up the jar of preserves. You were both standing in an aisle at Target doing a little shopping.

You shrugged, “Whichever one is fine. We don’t need both, though. I like raspberry and strawberry. Get the strawberry if you like that one better.”

Harry pursed his lips and looked down at both jars, “Okay. Strawberry it is.”

“Dad? Y/n?”

You and Harry turned toward the familiar voice. You almost couldn’t believe you were looking directly at Fae at that moment. But she wasn’t looking at your face. She was staring at your obviously pregnant tummy with her mouth dropped open and wide eyes as she approached you both.

“Hi, Fae. How are you doing, honey,” Harry glanced at you and then looked at his daughter. It was clear that she’d made a shocking discovery based on the look on her face.

“Is this for real?” Finally, Fae’s eyes landed on yours before she looked at her dad.

“That she’s pregnant?” Harry replied. You were too stunned to speak as you grasped onto Harry’s arm and watched your ex-best friend scrutinize the scene.

“I- I can’t believe you’re pregnant. This is…” Fae turned to look behind herself and then back at you and then Harry, “How far along?”

Harry looked down at you and then at his daughter, “About five months.”

“And when were you going to tell me?”

You blinked your eyes and placed one of your hands on your tummy.

“Well, I guess we just haven’t really told all that many people yet,” Harry spoke softly.

“All that many people… Okay. So your daughter doesn’t get like first notice. Got it. Makes sense.” She paused as she shook her head and then tilted her head, eyes on you, “Are you gonna say anything at all?”

Swallowing the bile down your throat you squeezed Harry’s arm, “Um, it’s nice to see you, Fae.”

“It’s nice to see me?  Is it really, Y/n? Because I’m not getting that vibe from either of you. It’s almost like you hoped I’d never know about this.”

“No. I- actually I’m happy to see you. I’ve missed you. It was just a surprise to see you.”

“Same. Quite surprised to see you both and to see you pregnant,” Fae looked at her dad, “Does mom know?”

Harry shook his head, “No. Like I said, not many know yet.”

She nodded, “Heard about the new house too. You’re both just living that sweet life, not a care in the world, yeah? Must be nice.”

“Hey, that’s not fair. I know you’re upset about everything and there’s a lot to get through here but we are happy together. I’m sorry–“

Fae put her hand up, “I know you’re sorry, Dad. I don’t need to hear the spiel again. You two are happy and in love, and now you’re having a baby. How wonderful. Congrats,” she turned around and began to walk away.

“Fae. Come on! Don’t just leave like this,” Harry called after her but she didn’t stop until she was out of sight of both of you.

And just like that, the little happy, peaceful bubble you and Harry had crafted was burst. The reality wasn’t as sweet as you’d been pretending it was. Fae was hurt and you’d done that to her. The anger she had toward you was warranted. You still hoped that maybe one day she’d forgive you but the reminder of what you’d done to get where you were in that moment was heavy over you.

You couldn’t avoid reality forever.

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[certaimromance]

𝜗𝜚 A Heart Matter.

Spencer Reid x Prentiss!reader

Series masterlist | ONE | TWO | THREE |

Summary: A few months after you left, Spencer thinks he sees you walking down the street, and his whole world is turned upside down.

Words: 3,2k.

TW: mentions of crime, trauma, death, pain and violence (normal warnings in the series). so much spoilers for s6 and s7. the events narrated occur after emily's "death". so much angst. read the dates carefully, especially the years, because there are some backward time frames that can confuse you if you don't pay attention!. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: I'm so sorry, that's all I can say now.

Also, I thought about making this a series, but I'm not sure because I've never done one before and I've really only been writing here for about a month??? I'm trying hard.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

July 18th, 2011

The steady ticking of the wall clock echoed in Spencer's head as a reminder that his time in the session was ticking away, robbing him of the chance to express himself without sounding like a complete lunatic.

“I saw her.” He had to repeat it aloud after receiving a puzzled look from his therapist.

The woman pursed her lips. “In a dream? Are you having nightmares again?”

The lump in the agent's throat felt tighter and more suffocating, causing him to shift in his seat to hide it. He wanted to appear sane and focused, however much his next words were anything but.

“No.”

The therapist's intrigued look and the fact that she stopped writing in her notebook to give him her full attention made his hands tremble and his heart pound as he spoke again.

“I mean, I still have the same nightmares...but this, this is different.” Reid tried to explain hesitantly.

Since the day he found you lying in a pool of blood outside your sister's apartment, his mind had been tormented by the image and the guilt it caused him. The nightmares of seeing you again and losing you were a constant every night. Every time he managed to fall asleep, he woke up agitated, feeling again the emptiness of not having you by his side. And that was something his therapist knew better than anyone, because she forced him to write down every nightmare and tell her all of them.

Those bad dreams were supposed to be over, or so he had claimed for the past three weeks.

“How?”

“I wasn't asleep when I saw her.” Spencer finally blurted out in a slightly shaky voice. He had rehearsed the same conversation several times and always ended up feeling like a deranged man seeing ghosts. “I was on the street.”

That sentence instantly changed the tone of the conversation.

“It was after work, I went to buy some food because the case ended earlier than I thought. Her favorite Chinese restaurant is a few blocks from my apartment, we really liked to eat there...I bought some and when I came out, I saw her.” He paused for a minute, trying to mentally return to the moment that was relentlessly replaying in his mind. “She was across the street, buying flowers.”

He had to be quiet for a second, pausing to calm his own breathing. It was ridiculous, but the thought of you buying flowers again made him smile slightly.

You had always loved flowers and now he was supposed to bring them to your grave.

“I ran across the street as soon as I saw her, but I lost sight of her when a bus came across.” He said, struggling to finish his story.

“Spencer, listen to me.” The woman's tone alone let him know that she didn't agree with him at all. “It's normal to think we see someone we lost, it happens to several people. Maybe it was just someone who looked like her, and being near a place the two of you frequented contributed to the confusion.”

That was impossible because he would recognize you anywhere and there was no one else like you.

“You know the truth.”

Of course he knew.

He had been trying to live for six months knowing that you were already dead.

Six months of him trying to deal with your ghost. Six months of him on his knees begging for this to be just another nightmare. Six months of reliving the last time he held you in his arms. Six months of being dead in life.

“Yes, but she looked different.” He explained, receiving a puzzled look that prompted him to provide further clarification. “Her hair was shorter, much shorter. And if I were hallucinating her ghost, I'd see her the same way I saw her the last time, or maybe the time before that. It wouldn't be so different from the way I remember her.”

“You lost two important people on the same day, it's not about logic.”

From her reaction when he concluded his session, it was evident that she considered his perspective to be irrational and clouded by the effects of grief.

And maybe it was.

July 30th, 2011

A few days of missing therapies and locking himself up at work already had consequences.

It was the second time a case had ended earlier than expected and Spencer had to go back to his lonely apartment and find excuses to leave without feeling sorry for himself. It was hard for him to be in his own home without you, surrounded by the photos you always insisted on taking and framing to preserve moments that were now torture. So the best solution was to make unnecessary purchases or lock himself in the nearest library.

Anything was better than being locked in a room with himself, so he decided to read in a room full of strangers who provided the company he so desperately needed.

The bad news was that the library's closing time had come earlier than expected for unknown reasons, and life seemed to force him to face his reality on the busy streets of Virginia, taking every possible alternate route to delay his arrival home. He didn't want to have to open the door knowing that no one would be waiting for him, that you wouldn't be there asleep on the couch after watching a marathon of your favorite movies, or just trying to read one of his books so you could discuss it with him.

His mind was still hazy and his eyes were wandering through the shops of the city when a familiar and unmistakable figure appeared before his eyes, just a few meters away, coming out of one of the shops on the next street.

It was you again. Unmistakably you.

He started running without a second thought, but the streets were so crowded that it was hard for him to move through the mass of people. His heartbeat was out of control and probably everyone could hear him, but he didn't care about looking crazy, he just needed to get a little closer to talk and make sure it was you.

The city's public transportation seemed to be against him, because just as he was about to cross the street, not caring that the light was red, another bus crossed the street and almost ran him over. Just a few inches and the story would have been very different for him. Everyone on the street was whispering, car horns were honking and every now and then someone would ask him if he was okay or look at him like he was a psychiatric patient. But nothing mattered to him, there was only your image in his mind and the possibility of finding out if he was really going crazy or if your ghost was haunting him.

When he managed to cross the street, there was no sign of you, and his therapist's words echoed in his mind as a symbol of temporary insanity brought on by pain. Try as he might to ignore his conscience, there was no way to find you in the sea of people, and he had no choice but to enter the store where he thought he saw you coming out.

“A woman bought something here a few minutes ago, she had a bag slung over her shoulder.” Spencer spoke quickly as soon as he walked in and approached the local salesman. He paused only when the man nodded in confusion at his attitude. “Do you know her name? Where she's from? Does she come here often?”

The man's lips were sealed, he just waved his hand to let him know he would only talk for money. He didn't even flinch when Reid pulled out his badge and repeated that he was FBI. Anyway, the thirty dollars was the master key to get the information and the security camera footage, which was barely visible because of the poor quality.

“I don't know who she is, it's the first time I've seen her. There aren't many customers on my shift, and not everyone buys that many books.” He began to speak under Spencer's curious gaze. “She paid cash and bought a bunch of classics. And she had a limp.”

“Are you sure? Which leg was it?”

There was a short silence, which the salesman used to remind himself, and Spencer's nerves got even more out of control.

“I don't remember which leg it was but I was definitely limping. I noticed that when she climbed the ladder, I had to help her.”

January 11th, 2010

“Can we eat here?” You asked after reading the sign that said the restaurant's elevator was under repair. “There are a few tables.”

Spencer couldn't help but frown and let go of your hand to stand in front of you. His eyes searched for yours. “I thought you wanted to come up, the view is your favorite thing here.”

You two were at your favorite restaurant, a Chinese food paradise with the best view in city, according to your expert opinion. It wasn't the first time the two of you had been there, so you had already more than booked a table, and this one was on the third floor. Your favorite part of going there was seeing the moon.

And of course, Dr. Reid was the kind of guy who always paid attention to the little details. He remembered everything, and could probably tell what you were thinking just by looking into your eyes for a few seconds.

“Let me take you upstairs, please.”

His puppy-dog eyes and a single phrase were enough to get you to let him take you by the arm and lead you up the stairs at a slow pace. By the time you got to the second floor, he offered to carry you like a princess. You had no choice but to accept, especially since it had already taken you more than ten minutes to climb a single floor. The pitying looks from the other diners were starting to make you uncomfortable.

“Thank you, Spencer.” You mumbled as you reached the table and he pulled up a chair for you.

He smiled. He loved how you said his name and wanted to hear it for hours.

After you both sat down and made your requests, you spoke again. “Aren't you going to ask why I can't climb a ladder?”

“I won't ask you anything you don't want to answer.” He said simply.

You felt like you could tell him anything, even your darkest thoughts. Your sister had already talked about it. Either it was the Reid effect, or you were just madly in love with him. Both were quite similar in your view.

“I hurt myself while I was practicing ballet. I made a really bad move.” You spoke up after a few minutes of silence. He frowned when he heard you. He had no idea you played the sport. “I was supposed to have quit, so I didn't tell anyone. Only Emily knew. I didn't treat it until the injury got worse when I went out in the field on a case. That's how I retired from the FBI. My mom freaked out, and my left ankle was screwed up for my whole life.”

Before you turned your attention back to Spencer, you prepared yourself mentally for the sympathy he would undoubtedly show. The curious thing was that in his eyes, there was nothing but interest and gratitude for having allowed him to know more about you. That was what kept you talking.

“There's an operation to try to fix it, but recovery takes quite some time. I'd rather always take the elevator and avoid the stairs as much as possible than have to rely on Emily to take care of me for three whole months. She has work to do and would go crazy having to be my maid.”

“I would.” He said without hesitation. When you looked curious, he elaborated. “I'd take care of you.”

“For three whole months?” You asked, sounding rather incredulous and as if you thought maybe he was just being extra nice.

“For the rest of my life, if you let me.”

September 5th, 2011

“There's no way you could have seen her, Spence.”

JJ's eyes fell on his friend's not-so-shaky ones, and a part of her churned inside, not knowing what else to say to him. It was eleven o'clock at night, the first time in several days that Spencer had shown up at her house to try to find comfort and perhaps understanding.

“I know, I know it shouldn't be possible.” He replied and went back to pacing the room, trying not to make a sound. The last thing he wanted was to wake up his godson or his friend's husband. “But it was so real...maybe I'm crazy.”

“You're not.” She said firmly, getting up from her seat to give him a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

At the time, even he didn't know for sure, and that made him fear that he had lost his mind. He was hungry for a love that he would never have again.

“You just miss her.”

No, missing was nothing compared to his feelings.

“It's more than that, much more. I haven't been able to catch my breath since she left.” He admitted, running his hands through his hair as tears formed. “I miss Emily, too, and I don't see her walking down the street.”

Silence fell over the room because no one had anything to say. There weren't enough words to describe the situation. The only sound that could be heard was the man's sobbing on Jennifer's shoulder, trying to be encouraged with words.

“It's going to be all right, Spence.”

He didn't say it out loud, but he thought he'd never get anything right in his life if all he wanted was you.

March 14th, 2010

The coffee he was carrying kept him warm as he made his way through the chilly FBI offices. Spencer wondered if the air conditioning had broken down when he reached the technical analyst's office and a conversation stopped him in his tracks.

“My take? She looks like she'll be Mrs. Reid one day.” Penelope's voice was heard after several loose sentences that the boy couldn't understand from the other side of the door. He figured they were talking about him and his relationship with you.

“I hadn't thought about Reid being legally part of my family until now.” Emily spoke next, letting out a few chuckles. “I'm going to have mini geniuses for nephews.”

“Stop it, we're just dating.” You spoke with some nervousness, still reeling from the implications. “It's not like we're getting married tomorrow.”

As he leaned against the wall by the door to hear better, Spencer couldn't help but feel a bit guilty about what he was doing. He knew it wasn't right to overhear other people's conversations, especially if they were about him. But he had a feeling he needed to know what you were saying about him when he wasn't around. It wouldn't hurt to just hear a little bit.

“Don't pretend you don't talk about future names for your babies, I heard you two.” Garcia spoke again.

“It was a random conversation.”

“About baby names?” She gave a little smile and raised an eyebrow.

“What I mean is that bringing things forward is not good.” You began to speak, completely ignoring the previous point. You were trying to be the voice of reason in the midst of their ridicule. “But I'd like him to be the one.”

“I think I'll shed a tear or two because you've grown up so fast.” Your sister commented in a teasing tone that hid quite a bit of truth. She gave your hand a quick squeeze and looked at you for a few seconds before speaking again. “What's up with that look on your face?”

You frowned. Spencer's heart seemed to stop beating for a moment. “What look?”

“You know which one I mean—the one you put on when the coffee runs out.”

Reid's hands began to sweat. He felt like a teenager trying to figure out what the girl he liked really thought of him. Did you ever have doubts about your relationship? Did you ever picture yourself with him in the future? Was he really the one for you?

“The scariest thing about love is getting hurt.” You said, trying to initiate the idea. Unfortunately, Penelope beat you to it and spoke up.

“I'm sure he wouldn't hurt you.”

“I know, I don't care about that.” You spoke up again after a few seconds, looking around the room as if lost in thought. “What if I do it? What if I break his heart?”

Oh, that was certainly not something Spencer was expecting to hear.

“How would you break his heart? Not answering his calls for five minutes and seven seconds?” Interjected Emily with a teasing tone to try to lighten the mood and get a smile out of you. “I don't think either of you would consciously hurt the other.”

And right after that, the protagonist of the discussion entered the room, causing the three of you to remain silent and pretend that nothing was going on. You could only smile when your boyfriend came in with a hot coffee for you and you saw the tender looks the two women gave you.

“Thank you.” You said.

“It's nothing.” He replied, pulling you close to surprise you with a hug that brought him close enough to your ear to whisper. “You could never break my heart.”

September 21st, 2011

Ian Doyle was only a couple of meters away.

Spencer's fist throbbed and burned, still stained with the blood of the man who had taken everything from him seven months ago. He knew he had done wrong, that he had promised everyone that he would only talk to the terrorist, and that he had done much more than that. The team had barely been able to get him out of the interrogation room because he was out of control with rage.

He wanted to make him feel a lot of pain and a minimum of what you and Emily probably felt that night.

“You need to calm down.” JJ came out of the meeting room to stop him before he could go in.

“I'm calm.” He replied, still trying to regulate his breathing. He could see his friend raise an eyebrow, and he decided to speak up again to avoid upsetting her. “This is about as calm as I can get right now.”

As soon as he was done speaking, Reid tried to keep going to the room, but the woman was in his way again and stopped him from opening the door.

“You have to be calm for what Hotch has to tell you. I mean it.” Jennifer said, after receiving a confused look. “What you're going to see now...”

“I'll be fine.”

Without giving her a chance to say anything else, he opened the door to the room. Spencer thought he'd find photos of the crime scene that ruined his life, maybe some testimony he didn't know about, or even the killer there. But none of that was true, and it made his heart stop.

“Hi.”

You certainly broke his heart this time.

[eccentricwritingbaby]

surprise!

oscar piastri x reader

summary - after a few long months of not being able to see each other - y/n at university, oscar racing and training - reader is feeling the blues of long distance. until a certain surprise comes her way. 

masterlist

-

it was final exam season. final exams. instead of the calm before the storm, you would argue they were the storm before the calm. finals stressed you out beyond belief, they were always harder than what your professor claimed, always had information on them that wasn’t on the study guide, and you were constantly swamped with work. you didn’t have time for anything but studying.

but after. after. you would be out of school for the summer, finals off your mind, school off your mind, and you’d get to see your sweet, sweet boy. you and oscar had been going out for a year now, you knew the routine of both of you not being able to see each other often, or call often - your schedules so opposite it was constantly a game of phone tag. but summer was your time. you were out of school, thank god, and he usually had only a few races left - that you got to tag along to - and then it was his break. and you both could bask in each others presence before the school year and his season starts yet again. 

the good news was that you had only a year left of school, the bad news was that you had a whole year left of school. you were usually a glass half-full kind of girl, but at times when the stress wore you down, and the facetime call to your boyfriend was missed, you needed a break before you lost it. 

it was now the second time you tried to call oscar, trying to reach him on the verge of your mental breakdown as you were staring at books and your computer for the last four hours. 

“hi, baby, sorry my phone was in my room,” he answered the call with a smile on his face, “how are you doing?”

“i’m fine,” you mumble out through the phone, your boyfriend frowning at the solemn disposition read across your face, “just miss you,”

“i know baby,” he gives you a sad smile, “i miss you too,”

“what were you up to?” you ask him, taking every opportunity to hear his voice and see his face.

“i was just with lando and alex in logan’s room for a bit, we were playing this new game,” his eyes brighten a bit as he speaks, happy to see your eyes lighting up as well on the other end of the call. 

“oh really? that sounds fun, tell me about it,” you urge, not fully caring much about this video game, but also loving watching oscar speak with passion and humor - a great distraction from the mess of work you had left on your desk. 

oscar drabbles on for a few more minutes, giving you stories about how lando died in the game and almost broke the controller, logan almost falling off his chair from laughter, alex and oscar making fun of the both of them, and so on. you sit on your bed holding a large smile on your face, happy to finally be connected to your boyfriend and talking to him. 

“what else do you have tonight?” he asks you the dreaded question and you roll your eyes, breathing out a huff of air as you do so. 

“so much, i still have two essays to finish up, but it’ll just be some finishing touches,” you sigh, “thanks for reminding me,” you add on sarcastically with a laugh. oscar laughs with you, glad that you aren’t too stressed and can still joke around. 

“well that’s good,” coming down from the shared giggles, his face turns a bit more serious as he asks his next question, “what are you doing tomorrow?”

“um,” you think for a minute, a bit uneasy about his quick change in demeanor, “just studying for tomorrow, because the next day - that’s tuesday, right?” you ask him, or yourself, quickly before seeing him nod through your screen, “yeah, tuesday’s my last final and then i’ll be flying out to you on wednesday!” you end your little ramble with a cheer. 

“i’m so excited, baby,” he chuckles at your happiness, “i can’t wait to see you,” 

“me too,” you smile back at him, the unspoken words of love dangling between you two as your eyes and smiles don’t leave each other, “i wish it would come sooner, though,”

“yeah,” he agrees, clearing his throat a bit, “listen, i’ve got an early flight out of here tomorrow so i’ll call you then,” he now moves to end the call, “and you’ve got some essays to finish up,”

“trying to get me off the phone, piastri?” you ask with a giggle.

“ugh yes, i hate talking to you,” he laughs out with insincerity. 

“okay,” you fake frown, “i can take a hint,”

“shut up, y/n, you know i’m joking,”

“i know,” you laugh, “call me tomorrow, i love you,”

“i love you too, baby,” you blow each other light kisses and hang up the phone. groaning and stretching, you move over to your desk and stare at all of the work you have yet to finish. 

“one more year, y/n, one more year,” you whisper to yourself to gain some momentum. wiping the tears that accidentally escaped quickly, you shake your head and pick up your pen, ready to finish off your second to last year. 

-

you woke up to books sprawled across your bed, having tried to study a bit before you fell asleep the night before. a distant ringing had you coming out of the sleepy fog, your eyes still closed and your hand slapping around the bed in order to quiet the sound. once your phone was found, your eyes squinted open and you immediately gained energy when you saw who was calling.

“hey, osc,” you’re morning voice evident, leading you to clear your throat a little.

“hi, baby,” you hear through the phone. it was odd for oscar to not call you over facetime, his constant push for ‘seeing your cute face’ was all you heard about, “i’m sorry, were you sleeping?”

“yeah, but i needed to get up anyways,” you groan, now stretching in your bed, fully waking up. 

“can’t waste a minute of studying?” he asks you, you hear voices in the background and some wind, assuming he was walking towards his destination.

“yeah,” you chuckle, “where are you? i can barely hear you over the wind,”

“oh um, about that,” he sighs, “i took a detour,” your eyebrows knit in confusion, wondering where he would have gone other than back home. 

“oh?” you ask him, now hearing a knock on your door.

“you should get that, y/n,” oscar laughs through the phone.

“what?”

“the door, baby, go get the door,” finally understanding what you had hoped he was implying, you jump out of your bed, out of your bedroom, and towards your front door, swinging it wide open to come face to face with your boyfriend. 

“oscar,” you breathe out, dropping your phone and rushing into his awaiting arms, “oh my god,” you begin to cry, holding onto him tighter. he returns the emotions, holding you and rocking you, soaking up all of what he had missed so much. 

“couldn’t last one more day without seeing you,” he whispers into your hair, now walking you both further into your apartment and shutting your door. 

“i can’t believe you’re here,” you whisper into his hoodie that your face was buried into, “i’m so happy,”

“me too, baby, me too,” he just sighs, breathing in your scent he had missed so much. finally pulling apart, his left hand comes up to hold the back of your neck, kissing you softly and feverishly. your antsy lips accept, your right arm coming to grab the neck of his hoodie and pull him closer, if that was even possible. 

breaking apart for air, your foreheads lean onto each other as you both bask in the feeling of being able to hold each other once again. 

“i-um,” you clear your throat a bit, “i’ve got studying to do, i’m sorry-”

“no, no,” he cuts you off, kissing you again, “baby, i know you’ve got to study, i just wanted to be with you,”

“okay,” you smile, grabbing his hand and leading him into your bedroom, he takes a look around at the books and papers spread everywhere and just laughs. 

“you are the same chaotic girl every finals season,”

“that’s the only way i know how to be,” you shrug at his joke, pulling out your desk chair and opening your computer, “i’m gonna throw my headphones on so you can watch the tv or something if you want,”

“okay, baby,” he places a kiss to the top of your head, moving to lay down on your bed and flip the tv onto his favorite show. 

he sits there for a moment, watching your pen spin in your hand, then moving to flip open a book, then moving to type on your computer, and he is in awe. you always told him you loved watching him in the garage because seeing him be intelligent and passionate was attractive as well as endearing. he finally understands what you meant. watching the person he loves be in her element was not only beyond attractive, it was inspiring. to see you push yourself and dedicate yourself was beautiful. and he knew he was the luckiest man on the planet. 

“what?” you turn and look at him, taking out one of your headphones. 

“nothing,” he smiles back at you, watching you turn around and get back to work.

-

[robo-writing]

Kinktober Day Ten: Old Man! Logan - Clothed Sex

| Kinktober Masterlist |

You can’t remember the last time you’ve had sex—can’t remember the last time you felt his breath on your skin, touched his beautifully scarred body. You can feel it sometimes, the tension that lingers between the both of you when you leave in the morning. A kiss goodbye that lasts a bit too long to be just a kiss—more like a question shared between two lovers.

Do you want to stay home? 

And yet the answer is always the same; the sound of his keys between his fingers taunting you. 

I want to, but I can’t.

You’re tired from working at your job, he’s tired from working at his. It’s an unfortunate cycle, but it’s become commonplace, so routine that neither of you bats an eye. Still, you’re both human—you have needs, it’s just that those needs are playing second fiddle to a paycheck. 

There’s only so many nights where you can sneak off into the bathroom to relieve yourself, hoping that he doesn’t wake up—It’s why you’re surprised when you hear the sound of his car pulling into the driveway. 

The door opens, and he immediately makes himself comfortable by your side, pressing into your back. There’s no fanfare to be had, no foreplay, no words needed. You’re tired, he’s tired—it’s a win-win scenario. 

His beard scratches at your neck, a feeling that reminds your body of what it’s been missing this whole time. When you lean into him he sighs, a sound somewhere between relief and satisfaction. His touch paints a story across your torso, one that tells you just how much he’s always wanted to answer yes.

“Come here baby,” he rasps. “Get on top of me, that’s it—“

He lifts you with ease, your legs straddling his larger one as you grind against it, disorganized thrusts that probably wouldn’t do much for you if you weren’t already worked up. He watches you mesmerized, awe-struck at the beauty he’s denied himself of for so long.

Impatience leaks from your very core, greedy hands searching for the object of your desire, groping the obvious bulge in his work pants, your breath fanning across his cheek. 

“Pull it out, please—“

His agreement is wordless, arm around your back as the other busies itself with his throbbing cock. The clink of a belt buckle, a button popping open, the metal teeth of a zipper separating and the shuffle of your panties down your legs. It’s a four step plan that leaves the both of you satisfied, tight walls fluttering around his length. He moves you with ease, head falling forward to rest in your chest.

“Fuck, I’ve missed this,” he groans, hands pawing at your shirt. It’s a sentiment you know well enough. It’s only when he starts moving do you realize how much you needed this—needed him. You can’t remember the last time you’ve had sex but it’s coming back to you slowly, bit by bit; desperation leaking through every move you make. Hands anchored on his shoulders, hips grinding against him as he holds you tight, just as desperate from the way his hips follow yours. It’s like standing near the shore unaware that it’s high tide, unaware of your impending orgasm until it’s forced from you, whimpering into the side of his neck as you shake.

“You came already?” His rough voice hisses in pleasure, lips at your temple. “Must’ve been real pent up huh?”

You can only nod, fingers clinging to the dark jacket that hangs a bit crooked off his shoulders. Suddenly your lips are captured in his, full of hunger as his tongue explores past your teeth, the taste of smoke overtaking your senses. “I’m sorry for neglecting you, should’ve been fuckin’ you properly,” he moans, thumb brushing against your sensitive clit. He laughs into your mouth when you jump, delighted in the way your pussy grips him. “Lemme make it up to you.”

[beggars-opera]

Ok, so I live in one of the more liberal areas of the country. Our governor is a lesbian and I literally did not even know until after she got elected, because it was that much of a nonissue.

Lately, I'm seeing more and more local institutions doing things for Pride. Institutions that don't necessarily have to, or do so awkwardly, but they're trying to be good allies. And, even here, I see people foaming at the mouth. This thing is ruined. Unprofessional. Political. Sexual. Boycotting, disgusted, bye.

And a part of me is like, "Why would a random store, a museum, a restaurant, do this?" Part of my mind has been so corrupted by the idea of rainbow capitalism that the thought of someone just...trying to be an imperfect ally is a cash grab.

It's not. Every bit counts, and especially as we see pushback, and see some of those corporations beginning to rethink their rainbow capitalism, the places that continue to speak up are so, so important.

I'm reminded of a rant by Illustrious Old White Man Historian Gordon Wood a few years back where he lamented how fragmented modern history is. Why do we need ANOTHER book about women, about enslaved people, about the poor? Why are we focusing on these people instead of George Mount Rushmore Washington?

And it was an interesting framing, because he insinuated that these micro histories were bad not because they existed, but because they didn't give the whole story, which in Gordon's mind was a story in which they were the side characters instead of the mains. To that end a biography of G Wash that features the bare shadow of Billy Lee in the far distance is a complete history, all that needs to be said, because one of those figures is a God Amongst Men and the other does not deserve to be fully fleshed out as a full, autonomous human being with a family and a profession and a beating heart. And a biography of William Lee, war aid, professional valet, and person closest to the first president of the United States, with the shadow of George in the background, would consequently be Bad History, because no one is saying that this man didn't exist, but his story isn't the whole story. It's backwards; he should be a footnote, and if he's not, that's bias.

But for me, as a historian, I know that the reason these microhistories exist, and are so important, is that they didn't exist before. Before someone can be truly, purposefully, tactfully inserted into the historical narrative, you need to know who they are. Not just as a name, not just as an archetype. You have to get to the point where there are so many books flooding the market about women and children and immigrants that it's no longer controversial to be talking about them, where learning about them instead of someone else is normal.

THEN you can feel good about rewriting the more general narrative. THEN you can actually have the information you need in order to put things into their proper context, to rethink the most important figure in each story, to assess what the full milieu of the time is.

And that's where we're at with Pride. We are still very much living in a time where queer people are shadow characters in the background. They are people that many will admit exist, but for god's sake, don't make them important, don't make them real, don't make them normal. And until we can shove rainbows down everyone's throats to the point where being queer is no longer seen as a thing that is Other, until we convince people that we're not going away, we will never be able to fully assimilate queerness into society.

We can't just be normal about Pride, because normal isn't loud enough to not get drowned out.

[blkgirl-writing]

Hi, I saw your smut requests post and was wondering if you could write one about touch starved Gale finally being alone with reader/Tav and getting his satisfaction? (Yeah, I got inspired by your nsfw headcanons about him, how could you tell?) Please and thank you!

PS Can I be 🧀 anon?

What happened at the moon lit pond

Gale X Fem!Reader

Baldurs gate 3

It’s been, probably three years since I’ve written a full fanfic? I’ll admit I’m probably a little rusty. Thank y’all for hanging in, and I hope this fulfills our nerdy wizard boy needs. thank you so much 🧀 anon for the request! I hope you stay and request some more.

Important tags: lots of pining, some angst (no sad ending), smutty (male and female Masterbation, male giving female oral), spoilers for gales mid game story, romance, Gale is an anxious mess, The thought of gale brushing his hair from his face got me GOING 😩

Word count: 1.9k

(Part 1.5 HERE) (PART 2 HERE)

(Gale headcanons that inspired this here)

-

Gale didn’t know how to handle these new feelings for you. He makes a fool of himself everyday, it seems. He always offers you a slice of his bread, even if you gave your own, he saves some of his own morning coffee for you, since he wakes up earlier, and even warm it up for you with a spell.

He simply wanted you to like him. That would be all he needed, but anything else that may follow that would be a true blessing. Gale wanted nothing more than to make you laugh, to see your smile and know he was the reason why, to camp and be the first and last person you’d speak to before sleep.

Gale wouldn’t let his mind wander much past that, or he tried to not let it. The occasional dream would slip through where you were his, and he was yours. It simply put him in panic mode In the waking hours, trying to not be obvious, scared you’d find out, what exactly? He wasn’t sure. You were too kind to break his heart so effortlessly, like he feared you would.

Endless scenarios danced in gales head of rejection, humiliation, and what would happen if he let himself go, life he was tasked to do. It wouldn’t take much, to convince him to live. Friendship, a place to call home, even if it was ever moving. Company he could entrust his life to. It was all so appealing. Luring him into life, breathing a new passion into his purpose, one he’d lost many years ago, sometime when he was alone for so many years.

Those thoughts seemed to linger on forever, sweeping over his barely conscious brain to awaken him again, rustling him from what could be a good nights rest. Eventually, Gale decided to just get up and go for a walk.

Camp had been set up in one of the most beautiful places any of you had seen. Waterfalls tinted emerald green, sand fine and shimmering in the light, may it be sun or moon. I’m one of those waterfalls, he found you.

Waist deep in the pond. Skin and hair dripping wet, shining more than usual water would, adding a silver glow to the night. You looked better than a goddess could ever imagine, and still, his eyes never dipped below you shoulders, even though he deeply wanted to look lower. Instead, he stood there, looking like a fucking idiot, gods know how long. Maybe a tree branch snapped, or maybe you finally snapped out of your trance, but your head whipped in his direction, eyes darting across the small beach, only relaxing when you realize only gale stands before you.

“Oh, Gale, it’s just you…” you let out a deep, jagged breath, the anxiety flowing out of your body just as quickly as it racked through it.

“Just? Are you disappointed?” Gale smirked, although his heart raced in his chest, one word and he'd sulk back to camp, but gods he wanted to stay and spend the whole night with you under the stars.

“Far from it, really. I was just thinking about how much you’d enjoy this view if you were here” you tore your eyes away from Gale, focusing on the stars. “I thought it may remind you of waterdeep. You paint a very beautiful picture of home.”

“I can think of a few things much, much more beautiful than Waterdeep,” his voice low, raspier than usual. Easily explained away from the lack of sleep or old sleeping bags, not for what it really was. Deep yearning, wanting, needing.

“I’d love to see them someday, then.”

“We’ll just have to get you a mirror, then,” “All the beauty in the world would reflct

"Gale, I-" You finally looked into his eyes, he wore his heart on his sleeve, at least for a moment. Those puppy eyes, dark bust glistening in the full moonlight, his hair messy from turning in his sleep, he wanted you, in many more ways than one. Gale's emotions could never be that simple, of course.

"Well," you walked towards him, water inching lower and lower, revealing more and more of your body, yet gales eyes stayed on yours. "Why don't you join me for a swim. It's a beautiful night."

"an offer I could not refuse." Gale's face was plastered with that cocky smile, the one that could melt anyone into a puddle in seconds.

He might have been a gentleman and kept his eyes upwards, but you were not so much, Gale untied his robes, gods why were there so many damn layers? It was quite a sight, his little mannerisms that showed more of him to you than he had shown to you. He was nervous, his fingers missing the simple ties frequently, he got annoyed by his hair getting in his eyes, a grimace appearing before he swept his hair behind his ear.

Your eyes lingered on his circle smoke tattoo, his toned arms, his downright massive hands. he was more tan than you realized, To be fair, he's always covered in those loose robes, leaving you to wonder what was underneath. You were more than happy to finally be finding out. But not below the waist.

"Isn't it a bit cold to be this naked?"

"The water is warmer than the air, I promise." You extended a hand out to Gale, even though he was feet away from you. "Come on, Gale from Waterdeep being afraid of some cold water? Sounds redundant."

"You got me there." He finally stepped into the glimmering pond surrounded by rocks and sand, enough to have your own little corner, to lessen the echo if it was needed. The whole camp didn't need to know all of your business. It must've been a magical lake, as both you and Gale noted separately. Unnaturally still, even when you moved freely, small glowing lights pooled at your sides, occasionally bubbling into the air once you leaned against a large, bright rock.

"May I ask what you were doing out here at this hour?" Gale spoke, still much further away from you than he wanted to be,

"Can I not take a mid-night swim?" You raised your brows in a questioning glance his way "A woman needs time to herself. These days and nights have been very stressful."

Gales very audible oh, slipped through the silence. "You don't have to relax alone." His eyes finally gave in to the need, scanning your body with a low moan slipping past his lips. His excitement was immediate, brushing against your lower stomach all the way past your navel.

"You've wanted this." You stated, brushing your hand against his thigh.

"There's plenty of magic around us, I want the Gale right in front of me." You dared to inch even closer, his thigh fully slipping between yours, inches away from touching your pussy. His hands floated inches from your waist, "Let me give you everything"

"Give me everything" With that, Gale's hand grabbed your waist, gently guiding you onto his thigh, motioning your hips down and swaying only him. The sensation sent sparks flying through his body, you were right in front of him, completely bare and rocking with pleasure onto him. Better than any dream he'd thought up, any fantasy that ran through his head even at the most inappropriate of times. Yes even during the throws of battle. Even in hard times like that, he was so drawn to you.

Gales other hand came up to your jawline, tilting your head so he could latch his mouth around your neck. Deep marks left behind while he inches his way in hickeys up your neck, jaw, and finally to your lips. Any semblance of anonymity flew out the window, not a single person could miss what he gave you, artfully placed dark spots painting your skin. "I have never seen such a beautiful being in my life"

"I could say the same about you gale," You said betwixt breathy moans, picking up the pace of your grinding hips against his thigh, his hand on your waist moving between a tight grip on your ass, and a light but so effective caress of your clit. Every time you got so close, his fingers moved, he was teasing you. His cocky smirk felt even through his kiss.

"I want you to come on my mouth." As if he was reading your slightly frustrated thoughts, "I want to taste you in my dreams."

All you could manage was a frantic nod, a mumbled yes, and shakily hoisting yourself up onto a rock that was perfect for gales pretty head to be between your thighs. Gale pushed your thighs apart with one hand, which stayed firmly grabbing onto you. The other sneaked up your thigh, tracing patterns along your skin. "Gale, please," you whispered out of pure desperation. The only warmth coming from your feet still in the water, otherwise your skin exposed to the biting air.

"All you had to do was ask, my lady" Gales fingers easily slid into you, curling up and pumping in and out, while he leaned into your pussy, maintaining eye contact as he placed one kiss just to the right of where you needed him to be. All he needed was to be touched, to touch you. Your legs wrapped around him to get Gale even closer, urging him closer.

"Touch yourself" Barely a whisper, but Gale caught it, and certainly didn't need to be told twice. Secretly, he could cum from this alone, your taste, how soft you were, how loud you could get. It was more than enough to orgasm right there with you, however, that is not exactly how he wanted your first sexual experience to go. His hand clutching your thigh came to his cock, rubbing much faster and harder than he was fingering you. he was eager. He wanted this to last forever, he wanted you to cum again and again and again into his mouth. He wanted his face even more dripping from your juices.

"Gale I can't hold it-" You nearly screamed, his tongue swirling and sucking, lightly biting, it was almost too much. Then, he moaned. A loud, deep moan and that was it. Vibrations running through your body from his mouth. there noise that left your mouth could've been heard across Baldurs gate, you silently thanked this magical pound for being so secluded, as you would be borderline embarrassed if people heard. Gales didn't come back up for hair until he was sure you were finished, getting every last drop of you.

"You certainly are loud" Gales tone was so smug it almost made you laugh. You gripped onto his shoulders as he swept you down from the perch, pressing his whole body to yours. After all that, after her definitely came, he was still so hard, and so pressed against you that you couldn't help but gasp. "I want to hear that again."

"Hear what, exactly?" you teased, lifting a finger to trace his chest.

"To hear you cum," his lips dipped down to your ear, slightly nibbling on it, before he rasped "and to feel you on my cock."

-

Part two, here

(Requests Open)

[wlntrsldler]

poisoned mercury | damned if i do ya (damned if i don't)

a/n: oooohhhh i love them bad. the slow burn is slow burning a little bit. btw the song is daylight by 5sos!

series masterlist | previous | next

v. damned if i do ya (damned if i don't) by all time low

all the progress luke thought he was making with you was thrown out the window after the concert. at first, he was glad to have some distance between you guys. he was dealing with sorting out what he felt for you. it was stupid, really, how he realized that you reminded him a lot of his childhood nickelodeon crush, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized that it was more than that. 

sure, you were a fucking headache sometimes, but he liked it. he liked you. he liked how you always tore him a new one, made him feel normal, like he wasn’t luke castellan – lead singer of poisoned mercury, he was just luke when he was with you. you asked him about his music, his life, but knew when to stop right before the conversation got too heavy because you understood him. you knew how he felt even when he didn’t say it. 

maybe he’d just been around his bandmates too much, teenage boys with emotional iqs of a thumbtack, but you took one look at him and he knew that you understood what he was feeling. as great of a writer he was when it came to music, he was never good with expressing how he felt. 

but now, it’s been weeks since you last talked to him, like really talked to him. whenever he’d see you in your smoke spot, he’d try to start a conversation, but you’d stuff your vape in your pocket and walk away before he could even say hi. you stopped going to the gym in the morning, often coming into the cabin after your workout during random times of the day, no longer following a set schedule. you rarely hung out with the boys, opting to retire into your room earlier than usual. you still joined clarisse during her counselor duties, but she stopped letting the boys tag along when luke was available as much as she used to. she’d offer an apologetic smile to luke and slip out an excuse why he couldn’t join for music lessons. 

luke was tired of it. he didn’t know what went wrong, what he did wrong, to make you act so cold towards him. even when you didn’t know him yet, you were never like this. you always had a snide remark ready for him, but now, he was met with silence. 

on the bright side, he at least had inspiration to write new songs. 

he wandered into the cabin, thinking that it would be empty. clarisse was being held hostage at arts and crafts again. (she complained the whole morning about it until chris offered to join her so she wouldn’t be the only one covered in glitter this time.) the stolls were in the studio recording the instrumentals for the song luke showed them a few days ago. they’d asked him who the song was about, though he had a feeling they already knew. he wasn’t really trying to be secretive with the words. and you, luke could only wonder where you were. 

he stopped in his tracks at the sound of mr. d’s voice in your room. your bedroom door was wide open and luke feared that you’d see him so he hid around the corner, back pressed against the wall. 

“this is serious, kid,” mr. d yelled. “your teammate is pressing charges so i need the full story! i don’t care if you don’t want to talk about it. this can go on your record permanently.” 

“so let it!” you screamed back. luke heard you pacing around your room, heavy steps against the cabin floors. “i don’t care.” 

“i care! i’ve been pretty goddamn lenient when it comes to you, y/n, but this?” mr. d countered, veins on his neck bulging out as he raised his voice. luke had never seen him like this, “this is fucking serious. you need to tell me exactly what happened.” 

“she was talking about you, okay?” you sobbed. you sat on your bed, hands buried in your open palms. “she said something about your addiction. i don’t fucking know how she found out, but she said something and i just lost it, dad. she was talking out her ass and i just needed her to shut up because she didn’t know what the fuck she was talking about.” 

mr. d’s tongue poked the inside of his cheek. he gulped, not saying a word. your dad looked at the decorated wall of your bedroom, polaroids of you and your friends, your framed high school field hockey jersey, and the concert ticket from the first show he ever took you to. he looked down at the pink rug on your floor, unable to say anything. 

you looked up at him, eyes brimmed with tears, “there, i told you. happy now?” 

it wasn’t long before mr. d stormed out of the cabin. luke flinched as the door slammed shut behind him. he heard you sobbing in your bedroom and he contemplated approaching you. you were already mad at him, for a reason that he still didn’t know, so what the hell? 

with a deep breath, luke emerged from the corner and walked towards your door. his knuckles softly knocked on the open door. you looked up at the noise, rubbing your eyes with your forearm. you chewed on your bottom lip, “not in the mood to argue, castellan.” 

“not here to argue,” he stood under your door frame, leaning against the side. “i’m here to see if you’re okay.” 

you had this habit of running away from things when you knew it had the power to hurt you. it wasn’t the healthiest coping mechanism, but your fight or flight response was triggered every time you started catching feelings for someone. it didn’t happen often, you developing actual feelings for people. you developed crushes, sure, but not feelings. 

you didn’t get googly-eyed and love-dumb with guys. you knew better– growing up with a dad who could quite literally transform people’s lives with a snap of his finger made you hyperaware of people’s intentions with you. but sometimes, you get blinded by the guy who sweeps you off your feet and you forget about it all. 

after the concert, you couldn’t stop thinking about luke. you already knew what kind of person he actually was, kind, caring, talented, all of the above, but there was still a nagging voice in your head telling you: “what if this is all an act?” “what if this is his move? pretending to be a different guy from the tabloids just to get you to fall for him then break your heart like everyone else did?” so you fled. you ran away from luke. 

clarisse caught onto you avoiding luke fairly quickly. she no longer saw you two walking into the cabin together in the early mornings when she was getting ready for the day. you started declining invitations to hang out at the activities center, stopped having time to help her with music lessons when the band was tagging along, and started hanging out with her in your room instead of the common space. 

she asked you about it after a week of the same thing. you told her you just weren’t in the mood, lacked energy. you said a million excuses but she could see right through you. you and the lead singer weren’t really subtle with your longing glances. 

you crossed your legs under you, pulling the blanket up to cover your legs. you moved over on your bed, tilting your head to let him inside. luke took his shoes off and closed the door behind him, sock-clad feet tapping against the wooden floors. he sat on the edge of your bed, playing with the stray thread on your blanket. 

“you ever feel like your parents wish they had a different kid?” you whispered, “maybe a kid that wasn’t so difficult?” 

“all the time,” luke replied, “every time my name is in the tabloids, i swear it takes years off my mom’s life.” 

you laughed, sniffling, “you need to take it easy on your mom. she’s too good for this world.” 

“that she is,” he leaned back on his elbows, resting his head on his shoulder. he tapped your leg under the blanket, “you know your dad loves you, right?”

“yeah,” you sighed, looking at luke. your makeup was smudged under your eyes and it took all his power not to lean over to wipe it away. you hunched your shoulders over when you spoke again, “just feels like sometimes i’m too much for him and i don’t know how to stop doing that.” 

“i don’t think you should.” 

it was the truth. you dealt in extremes. you were intense but it was only because you were passionate about things. he’d seen you practicing for hours, staying up late to help the younger kids with their projects even if it wasn’t your job, bossing people around to make sure that the camp activities were perfect. when you put your mind to something, luke knew there was no stopping you. 

“so i’m guessing you heard that whole thing with my dad?” 

“yeah,” luke rubbed the back of his neck. he looked at you, feeling caught that he’d been listening in on your private conversation. “i didn’t know anyone was in here when i walked in.” 

“it’s fine,” you shrugged, “pretty sure the whole camp heard my dad yelling anyways.” 

he laughed, “probably. i’d never seen him like that before. he’s usually so chill. it kinda caught me off guard.” 

“me too.” 

“it’s not as bad as when my mom yells at me though,” luke offered, trying to lighten the mood. he grinned when he saw your eyes brighten. you never did pass up the opportunity to have luke embarrass himself. if he could stop you from crying, he would lay out all his embarrassing stories in front of you for your listening pleasure. “the time she found out that me and trav got banned from wichita, like the whole city, she got so mad that the hotel we were staying at kicked us out because there were so many noise complaints. had to sleep on the bus. my back was killing me the entire time we were playing a show the next day.” 

“what the fuck did you guys do that warranted a ban from the whole city?” 

luke’s cheeks turned pink, “we mooned a cop car.” 

you bursted into uncontrollable laughter, falling back on your pillows. luke watched you, laughing along at your reaction. you were crying again, but it was a good cry this time. luke thought you looked pretty like this; cheeks red, eyes shut as you tried to regain your composure, and smiling, all teeth and lips. he hadn’t seen it in a while and he wanted to take a picture of you right now just so he could always remember how you looked at this moment. he wasn’t sure if he could survive another few weeks without seeing it again.

luke nudged you as your laughter died down, “if shit goes down with your teammate, there will be three of us with a permanent record in this cabin.”

you smiled at him, sadly, voice returning to the hushed tone you used earlier, ���you think my dad could forgive me for this?” 

“don’t think anyone could hold a grudge against you even if they tried, five star,” luke placed a hand on your thigh covered by the blanket. he relished in the feeling of the hand you placed over his own. it felt intimate. “what does your mom think about all of this?” 

“i dunno,” you played with the rings on his hand, twisting the silver metals on his fingers, “i haven’t talked to her about it yet. been avoiding her calls.” 

“well, happy to know that i wasn’t the only one getting the silent treatment,” he teased, no bite to his voice. “shit, five star, even with your punishments, you still manage to not make me feel special.” 

you squeezed his hand, a giggle escaping your lips, “shut up.” 

luke looked at you, “you should probably talk to her soon.” 

“i will,” you nodded, meeting his gaze, “soon.” 

the two of you stayed there in silence, you playing with his rings and the bracelets on his arm. you were so enamored by the silver jewelry on his hand, twirling his rings to read each engraving, looking at each design, humming in appreciation. you looked at the camp half blood bracelet on his wrist, recognizing the beads on the string. 

“i can’t believe you got a camp bracelet before i did this summer,” you huffed, admiring the beads. “i’ve been here longer than you and nobody made me one yet.” 

“a little girl made it for me,” luke said, smiling at the memory. “i helped her with her with the production of the song for her summer project and she made it for me.” 

“i didn’t know you also produced music.” luke castellan continued to surprise you. 

“not well,” he replied. “just the basics, but i like to think i helped her out. annabeth— you know her? the kid with perfect pitch. fucking brilliant. smarter than i was at her age.”

“i love beth. i’m pretty sure she’s the smartest 12-year-old to ever exist,” your eyes twinkled, moving your index finger to his own, “what’s the story with this one?”

luke looked down at the ring you were touching. it was the silver ring he bought for himself using his first paycheck from their album sales. it cost him a pretty penny, but it was worth it. the font was tiny, but he memorized the words. 

“aγάπη χωρίς πείσματα δεν έχει νοστιμάδα,” luke said, no doubt butchering the pronunciation. “it’s greek. my mom used to read greek proverbs to me as a child. i think she hoped i’d become the next great philosopher, but instead i became a musician. this phrase stuck with me.”

“what does it mean?”

“love without a bit of stubbornness isn’t tasteful,” he whispered, “it’s a little reminder to myself that even though i can be difficult as shit sometimes, i’m worth it.”

luke cleared his throat, “had a tough time when we first got big. i’m sure you’ve heard of some stories. there was a time when me and my mom didn’t talk much. i thought i knew what was best and i pushed her away. i was so stubborn, five star.” 

“my dad left when i was a kid and for second, i thought i would lose my mom too,” he shook his head, the bitter taste of regret in his mouth as he recalled those memories. “im glad i didn’t. this ring reminds me that no matter how stubborn i am, i still deserve love, y’know? maybe it’s stupid, but sometimes i doubt it. mom always told me that love isn’t supposed to be easy, but it’s supposed to always be worth it– worth all the trouble, the stubbornness, the hurt, so this little phrase keeps me grounded in a weird way.”

“worth it to an extent,” you said. there was something hidden in your words like you were somehow asking him if you fell within the extent of it being worth it. it was in the look in your eye, doubt and worry that maybe you pushed it too far this time and you were no longer worth the fight. 

“extent is subjective. i know my mom thinks i’m worth it. i know that no matter how much me and the stolls get into fights, our friendship is worth it. i know that even though me and chris grew up to be different people, our bond is worth it,” luke leaned in closer as if he was going to tell you a secret, something that stays between you and him, only allowed to be spoken within the walls of your room. “and you, five star–” 

he couldn’t finish his sentence. his words got caught in his throat. he was afraid that if he kept talking, he wouldn’t be able to stop. he didn’t know if there was a universe out there where fighting for you wouldn’t be worth it. had you been thinking about him all this time you’d been apart? have your thoughts been plagued by the idea of him? all he could think of was you. all his songs were about you. it seemed like everything had been about you since he met you. 

is it too much too soon to even say things like that? luke didn’t know where you stood, if you even felt the same way about him as he did about you. how evil must the world be to have you exist in his orbit but not allow him to fight for you? 

the corner of your lips lifted a tiny bit and luke knew he didn’t need to say anything else. you understood. 

luke wanted to stop you when you removed your hand from his, but he didn’t want to test his luck. you dug through the drawer by your bed, pulling out the familiar vape, “i could really go for a smoke right now but this stupid thing died.” 

an idea popped into luke’s mind. he got up, motioning for you to do the same. you stayed seated on your bed, eyebrow raised in concern. 

“come on,” luke sighed, playfully rolling his eyes when you still refused to get up. he held out his hand, looking down at you. “you trust me?” 

you glanced at him then at his hand, deciding. it felt like a loaded question, like he was asking about something more than if you’d go with him to whatever adventure he had planned for the both of you. his heart hammered in his chest as he waited for your answer. you didn’t say anything to his question, unsure if you could rationalize your decision, but when you laced your fingers with his, luke didn’t let go of your hand until you were both out of the campgrounds.

[nickel156]

“I was in everyone’s minds to protect Velaris”

Come again?? No really, I just learned how to read yesterday..

Rhysand’s excuse for not taking down Amarantha—that he was too busy monitoring everyone’s minds to keep Velaris a secret—starts to fall apart when you consider that Velaris was already hidden. No one knew it existed. Velaris wasn’t on anyone’s radar. The city had been hidden for centuries, and there’s no evidence that Amarantha, or anyone else for that matter, even suspected its existence. So, why would Rhysand need to constantly be in people’s minds, draining his power, to protect a city no one knew about? It doesn’t add up.

This raises the question: Was Rhysand lying? Was he manipulating Feyre by feeding her this story to justify his inaction under Amarantha’s rule? He paints this picture of himself as this self-sacrificing hero, always making hard choices for the greater good, but when you break it down, his excuse is flimsy. If Velaris was truly hidden, then his powers wouldn’t have needed to be spread so thin. Even diminished by Amarantha. He should’ve had the strength to act against her much sooner, (he implies) but instead, he fed Feyre this narrative to make her believe that his hands were tied. It conveniently shifts the blame away from him and positions him as this misunderstood figure who was doing everything he could to protect what mattered most.

Then there’s the whole “Most powerful High Lord in history” line. Who else is saying this about him? No one. It’s something Rhysand repeatedly tells Feyre, almost like he’s reinforcing this idea of his invincibility in her mind. But if he’s truly the most powerful, why did he struggle so much under Amarantha’s rule? Why did he need Feyre’s help to take down Hybern later on if he’s supposed to be the most powerful High Lord ever? It feels like Rhysand is using this title as a tool to manipulate Feyre into seeing him as infallible. By constantly reminding her (and the reader) of his power, he makes sure that any weakness or questionable action he takes is easily forgiven or explained away. It’s like he’s setting up this narrative where he’s always the strongest, the most capable, even when his actions suggest otherwise.

So, was Rhysand’s whole “I’m in everyone’s minds to protect Velaris” a lie? A form of manipulation to make Feyre trust him? Or was it just poor writing that didn’t consider the full implications of Velaris being a secret city? It’s hard to say for sure, but either way, it casts serious doubt on his narrative. The more you look at it, the more it feels like Rhysand was playing Feyre, feeding her just enough information to make himself look like the hero while glossing over the inconsistencies in his story.

Ultimately, it makes you wonder if his claim to being the most powerful High Lord was less about truth and more about control—control over the narrative, control over Feyre’s perception of him, and control over the way he’s seen by everyone else. And honestly, it’s starting to look a lot more like manipulation than anything else.

[sapphosclosefriend]

- I need you by my side -

Pairing: Royal! Natasha Romanoff x Princess! Fem! Reader

Genre: fluff, smut, tiny tiny bit of angst

Summary: you have known Natasha pretty much your whole life and you never thought you'd end up marrying her. On your first night officially together you learn to appreciate each other in more than one way (Medieval AU)

Word count: 7.5k

Warnings: top! Natasha, bottom! R, Nat has a penis, virgin! R, arranged marriage, very brief drinking, kissing, size difference, SMUT, oral (Nat receiving), balls sucking, cum eating, nipple stimulation (R receiving), fingering (R receiving), squirting, vaginal penetration, rough sex, cumming inside, a whole lot of fluff

A/N: this story contains smut so anyone who isn’t 18+ DNI. Both sets of parents are shitty tbh, but I guess it's accurate to the time period? The aesthetic in my head was very much game of thrones for this one. This is so much longer than I intended!! As usual likes, reblogs and comments are very appreciated! Enjoy ♡

Masterlist

It has been a long long day of making merry, a joyful celebration of honour and union for everybody, but also a dreadfully awaited day full of anger and resentment from your new spouse. You could feel it radiating off of her throughout the whole day, and the weeks prior for that matter, and the tiredness only makes her more frustrated as she walks next to you towards your now shared chambers. Her long legs and anger driven fast pace almost make it hard for you to keep up with her and for a moment the thought of telling her off crosses your mind, immediately followed by your father’s reprimanding voice, forcing you to calm down immediately. The moment the large wooden doors close behind you, the sight of the bed adorned with rich fabrics and clearly made to harbour two newly wed people makes you freeze as you can only move your eyes from to bed, to the other girl’s back on the balcony and back towards the bed. You both know what you’re expected to do and unfortunately sleeping the exhaustion away is not yet included.

In the meantime, Natasha’s blood boils even more now that all the tension she’s been holding back in favour of decency is coming back in the confinements of her, no, your private room. The thought of what she’s been forced to do only makes her feel that all too familiar anger that’s been eating her up for months now: she’s always known that she was eventually going to have to marry someone of a certain status and that the range of possible candidates was quite small, but she thought that the last word would be hers, it was promised to her! But the moment you became of age it was all clear, it was going to be you, it was always going to be you, there was never anybody else for her parents. All those times where they visited your family because of what they would say was a special friendship between them and your own parents, where she was always made to play with you, to sit next to you, to take you on walks, to talk to you, get to know you, it was all a lifelong plan to get to this very specific moment, you and her married. The fresh night air helps cool her temper as she turns around to lean against the cold stone of the balcony railing and looks at you, nervously pouring yourself a cup of deep red wine, only tasting a sip of it before repeatedly tapping the metal cup, lost in thought. She feels a lot of guilt whenever she thinks about you because, although she’s never been outwardly rude to you, it’s clear that you feel as part of her problem and that her reassurances don’t help ease your mind at all. The only people she’s deeply angry with are her parents, but seeing your sweet eyes, knowing how hopeful you’ve always been of finding a person to love for the rest of your life and that person forcibly being her, reminds her of how your lives have never truly been yours and how naive you’ve been for thinking otherwise at the empty words of reassurance coming from your parents. She knows she has to try at least, if not for her family, for you, for the respect she has for you, so she takes one last breath of fresh air to ease her nerves and walks back inside.

The smell of her favourite incense and the dim lights coming from all the candles give her a small sense of comfort as she slowly walks towards you, standing next to the table still with your wine in your hand, and pours herself her own cup, which she downs in one go.

“I was very happy to be able to catch up with Yelena, it had been a long time since I had last seen her”

At your words she looks down at you and can’t help but give you a little smile at your attempt at breaking the ice, knowing you’re not the most outgoing person

“She was very happy too, she couldn’t wait to see you”

She goes to sit on the bed as she talks, making your mind go back to that imminent moment. Seeing you nervously swallow the lump in your throat, she pats the spot next to her and intently looks at you as you set down your cup and walk towards her, taking a seat on the soft mattress: you can clearly feel the heat of her body with how close you are and secretly savour it as you both keep looking in front of you to avoid meeting your gazes. There’s a long pause where only your slightly shaky breathing and the distant sound of the celebration going on without you two can be heard, before her voice, strangely uncertain and almost a whisper, breaks the silence

“Have you ever done this before?”

You were kind of expecting it, but the question still makes your heart stop

“…kind of”

At your small voice she turns to look at you, confused by your answer

“What do you mean “kind of”?”

“I’ve done something, but not…all of it”

There’s almost guilt in your words and after reluctantly looking at her and meeting her expectant gaze, you go on

“There was someone who was always very…interested in me..”

You can feel her brain working hard and the realisation getting closer and closer until

“Wait, you don’t mean…”

You can barely give her a side look, feeling regret at your own actions from the past

“What?!”

“I know, I know!”

You really can’t look at her now, knowing her opinions on that certain Someone

“Not that asshole!”

“Yes, well, of course I didn’t listen to you and…I got used like a whore. But I’ve never been touched, if that’s what you wanted to know.”

She watches you looking down at your own fiddling hands with sympathy and sadness, knowing how genuine and even naive you can be with your selfless trust in people. Her hand on yours almost startles you and gives her the chance of taking your own in hers: you can see a small, healing cut on her knuckle and her rough palm, testimony of her constant sword training, is warm against yours, except for the two small, golden rings, which feel like ice against your own skin. The moment you take your eyes off your joined hands to look at her you find her eyes already on your face, making you look back down

“You have, right?”

“Yes, how do you know?”

You let out a small chuckle and start playing with one of her rings without even noticing, catching Natasha’s attention to the action

“You and that girl, it was quite clear, you know?”

Of course you noticed, you always did, you were almost too good at reading her considering that you didn’t see each other that often. That time, during one of her family’s visits, a girl with beautiful red hair was with her when she arrived and, although she was introduced to everybody as a normal lady in waiting, you immediately caught the glances and small touches between the two. Another moment of silence engulfs you two and you can’t keep your mind from spiraling at what’s going to happen soon. Not even Natasha’s ring is enough to keep you calm anymore, so you just let go of her hand and finally tell her what you’ve been wanting to say since you got alone. She’s still thinking about how much she surprisingly misses your hand in hers when your words startle her

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want, I know you’ve never wanted any of this and I’m sorry that you were forced into it…I know that we have to do this, but you shouldn’t if you don’t want to”

Your words make her heart swell at how thoughtful you are to her, unlike her own family, before guilt takes over her once again

“I want to do this…with you. To be honest I’m happy that you’re the one I’m stuck with”

Her playful tone makes you giggle and look at her, getting caught off guard at the small traces of happiness on her face, finally getting free of that constant frown that you’ve consistently seen on her as of late. She finally looks back at you and once your eyes meet it seems like you’re really looking at each other for the first time in a while. She’s always been known to be one of the most beautiful people of the realm, so it was never that big of a shock to look in the eyes of what could easily be a goddess amongst mortals and be taken back by all that beauty and all the small details that make her so unique with nothing but adulation. You’ve never been scared of displaying your appreciation for anyone, so seeing your look of fondness towards her doesn’t surprise her at all.

On the other hand, Natasha finds herself truly entranced by you for the first time since you’ve known each other: she’s almost surprised to notice just how beautiful you are and how all those comments made by her friend, even if quite crude most of the time, were not the nonsense she made them to be.

“You do realise that anyone would pay to be in your place, right? You whine like a baby because you have to chat with her or something, it’s not like you have to marry her. And even if you did you’d get to have a go at it with her every night”

The familiar words make her grimace at the thought of such comments being made behind your back but the faint feeling of jealousy deep in her is enough to bring her mind back to you, sitting so close to her and looking up at her with such timid adoration that in that moment she can’t keep her eyes from finally moving down on their own towards your lips, looking so inviting she doesn’t even realise she’s slowly moving closer to you until the air you exhale melts together and your lips touch each other every time you breathe

“Natasha”

Your whisper ignites something inside of her and what could be considered almost curiosity makes her move just enough so that your lips are finally fully on hers in a small kiss that makes your heart beat so fast it feels like it’s trying to escape from your chest to get to Natasha. Oh Natasha, she’s the only thing that exists in that moment, just Natasha, nothing else. As soon as you part you barely have time to look into each other’s eyes and for her to admire your panting state before she’s cupping your face and leaning in once again, making you melt into the kiss while you try to turn your body towards her. You are thankful that you’re sitting on the bed, otherwise you’re sure your knees wouldn’t have been able to keep you upright. You still reach for her shoulder for support as your lips move against each other slowly, deepening the kiss more and more until you can feel her tongue on your lower lip, asking for permission and being granted it when you lightly suck it, making her moan lowly and break the kiss to catch her breath. You can’t help but admire her and reach for her hand, still under your jaw, to hold it in your own, making her open her eyes at the gentle action. In that moment, sitting on the edge of her bed so close to each other you’re almost in her lap, breathing hard from all the nervousness finally wearing off thanks to the act of newly found intimacy between you two, you truly feel the need for each other, not something necessarily carnal, but a deep need to have the only person who could really understand what you’re going through and who could support you through all of it by your side. You don’t know how much time you spend kissing, you just know that you can feel yourself grow more and more restless at her wandering hands caressing your arms with a touch so light goosebumps grow under her fingertips.

You have no idea of what has gotten into you, maybe it’s her intoxicating smell, or the way she’s now firmly holding your waist with one hand, or her frustrated sighing every time she catches her other hand searching through the seemingly never ending fabrics of your gown for a snippet of skin, or maybe it’s just all the stress you’ve been subjected to lately, but you are sure of one thing, you need to feel her, as much of her as possible.

In a spur of bravery you get on your knees on the mattress and do your best to straddle her lap without tripping over the layers of your dress, finally succeeding and finally being able to feel more of the heat coming off of her that you've been enjoying since you've sat next to one another ot the bed. Your faces are finally at the same height and for the first time you can see her enchanting emerald eyes even better. You move some small strands of hair that have fallen on her face to briefly take a better look at her, before your lips are connected once again and your hands are tangled in her hair. You can clearly feel Natasha's hands move over your back, repeatedly shifting down to the small of your back and stopping herself from going lower, making you whine as you take her hands and move them to your ass, getting a small groan out of her at your sudden boldness. She's finally able to reach your skin, after not so little effort of going through the fabrics of your skirt, when your lips leave hers to move down to her jaw and neck, leaving shy pecks hiding the deep hunger you suddenly feel for her. The gentle touch of your mouth on the sensitive skin of her neck and your small unconscious movements over her crotch start making it hard for her to hold back to let you go at your own pace. She loses control just for a second once you feel something poking your center and ground your hips over it with a little bit more will with a small muffled moan, and she moves her hands towards your front to try to reach for your breasts but fails to do so

"Damn dress"

The frustration of once again not being able to get to your skin almost makes her growl the words, getting your attention and making you stop yourself to look at her expectantly

"Sorry, it's just always in the way"

"Well…would you help me get out if it then?"

The clear contrast from your previous slightly daring demeanour and now your usual shy tone interests her and after a nod from her you get up from her lap and stand in front of her, still sitting on the edge of the bed, looking at you turning around and asking her to loosen up the laces of your fitting dress. The pads of her fingers briefly go over the skin of your back where the fabric ends as she reaches for it, making you not so subtly shiver at the anticipation you now feel, in clear contrast with the almost fearful nervousness that dominated you once you first got alone with her. Once she's done with her task you slide your arms out of the sleeves and are finally able to feel the fabric slide down your body and stop at your hips, catching some resistance at the tight fitting and exposing your torso to the cool night air coming from the balcony. Your hair put in an intricate updo gives her a clear view of the creamy skin of your back and makes Natasha feel even more anticipation once your hands move to your hips to push the dress past them to let it slide down your body, leaving it a heap of embroided fabric on the ground. You once again feel your heart beating out of your chest at your now fully naked body exposed to Natasha and you suddenly seem to be frozen in place, not able to turn around and fully face her. Her warm hand gently touching yours startles you but the following sound of her voice immediately puts you at ease a little

"Wait, let me do something"

You immediately miss her hand once it leaves yours and soon after you hear her getting up from the bed and moving a little to do something. After a little bit she gently puts her hand on your shoulder and rubs her thumb over your skin to hopefully help soothe your nerves before speaking in the most gentle tone you've ever heard from her

"Remember that you don't have to"

She's the first person to tell you that. Since your birthday all your life has been revolving around this marriage, everything you've been made to do has been in favour of this event, most of the things your parents have said to you lately were commands on what you needed to do in order to be a good and honouring daughter. She's the first one to tell you such a thing, she's the first one to give you a choice in a situation where you've never had one, she's the first one to see you as a person in this circumstance and not as trade goods. She understands you and she understands the way you feel because she's gone through the same. You're on the same level. You suddenly turn around to look at her and for a second you almost miss the way she's completely naked too, taking you by surprise at her bare body

"This way we can both see each other"

She once again talks with that gentle and caring tone that this time makes your heart swell a little just for her. Your loving gaze is lost in her entrancing eyes when her hand slowly takes yours and moves it higher and higher, leaving it on her chest and making you feel the faint beating of her heart, soothing you for a moment, also thanks to the tiny reassuring smile she gives you. You do the same to show her your willingness to put all of yourself in this with her and take her hand and put it on your own chest. You don't say a word but you understand each other surprisingly well, making you both for once relieved of such a marriage and the chance of being one another's companion instead of some stranger. It's true, in all the years of knowing each other you've never been extremely close but you've certainly never hated one other. Sure, sometimes Natasha may have been annoyed at having to spend time with you but it was mainly because she was once again forced to do something by her parents. In all honesty, being with you always ended up helping her get over her irritation. You once again catch yourself getting lost in thought while fidgeting with her golden necklace with her family's sigil on it, but clearly catch the warmth of her hand leaving your chest to lightly caress your cheek before gently pushing under your chin to lift your gaze to her

"I need you by my side"

Her whispered words are barely audible but sound crystal clear to you

"Always"

You know that, from now on, you're the only two people who can help the other, you need to be strong for each other.

Before you know it her hands hold you on each side of your face to kiss you once again, taking your breath away at the need you both feel for the other. Her hands soon move down to your back to pull you flush against her front, getting you the closest you've ever been and making you reach for her shoulders to hold onto. The feeling of her soft skin against yours seems to never be enough and you realize you're pushing her to get impossibly closer too late, only when her back hits the mattress and you almost land on top of her

"Sorry-"

She doesn't let you finish before she's pulling you in again to keep your mouth on hers and she's grabbing your ass for the first time once you fully straddle her hips, making you whimper at the intimate act. You're both breathless, you know it, and the last thing you want is to stop kissing, but you need to take a small break and, once you part, you take the chance to sit up and unmake your updo, letting your hair fall down your back, taking out as many of the golden pieces of jewellery in it as you can and letting the smaller braids here and there done not to waste any more time. You're aware of your position and you secretly savour the way Natasha grips your thighs at the feeling of your bare center on hers. Feeling slightly confident you lean down to give her one last kiss on the lips before moving downwards, leaving small pecks on her neck, collarbone and chest, and then leaving her lap to get to her abs and lower abdomen, looking up at her after noticing her breathing quickening a little bit and catching her slightly clouded eyes looking back you. Right before being able to kneel down she offers you one of the many pillows from the bed, preventing you from being in pain from kneeling on the hard stone floor and puts another one under her head to get a better view of you between her legs.

The anticipation takes over the nervousness you feel at the sight of her semi hard cock in front of you and before you can get too anxious you reach with your hand to wrap around it, slowly pumping it a couple times and immediately getting a small, low moan from Natasha. You're not sure you've ever heard anything hotter than that and the excitement from making her feel good makes you more and more eager to please her as best as you can, so you keep moving your hand up and down until she's fully hard and a small bead of precum has formed, looking too tempting not to taste and making you reach over to give a small lick to her tip. You moan from finally being able to taste at least a little bit of her and at the same time Natasha hisses at the feeling of your tongue on her making her twitch.

You don't think you can wait anymore after getting a glimpse of her, so you get comfortable and finally fully wrap your lips around her tip, gently sucking it for a bit, if not to get yourself used to it, then to hear her groans again and again. Her hand moving towards your head excites you more than you'd like to admit and you'd lie if you denied the small disappointment you feel when it gets to your hair just to keep it out of the way with a makeshift ponytail. You realize it, you want her, all of her and she needs to know, so to try and make her understand it, feeling too embarrassed to say it to her face, you take more and more of her, doing your best to relax your throat and not gag too much around her surprisingly girthy cock. Her pants turn into loud groans once you do your best to look up at her as you slowly take all of her down your throat in one go, stopping only when your nose hits her crotch and staying like that for a couple seconds before lifting yourself off of it and sucking a deep breath while a string of spit still connects your mouth to her tip. To give your throat a small break you keep pumping her with your hand while you move downwards to lick her balls a couple times before taking one at a time in your mouth and very gently sucking them, making her curse out loud and sending a shiver through your whole body at the sound.

After a little bit you go back to her cock to take it back in your mouth, moaning at her taste and making her grip your hair tighter at the vibrations of your voice on her. You know she's close and you know you want her to take her orgasm from you herself, so you reach for her hand and make it lay flat on top of your head, before giving it a small push, hopefully making her understand what you want. She does, oh she does. After letting out a breathy chuckle at your eagerness she looks at you go back to your ministrations and guides you through it, making you take more and more of her until she's pushing you all the way down her cock and your gagging and her groans are all that can be heard in the room. She's close, so close and you know it, so you open your eyes to look back at her and meet her gaze already on you, before you reach for her balls to lightly fondle them, making her reach her orgasm in a couple more thrusts and finally feeling her cum in your mouth. You gently keep sucking her tip through her high until she's fully done and takes her cock out of your mouth

"Show me"

You don't expect her words but feel excitement when you open your mouth to show her all her cum on your tongue, and she bites her lip at the view

"Good, go on"

Her voice, still panting, and her taste as you swallow all of her cum makes your center ache like never before, even more so when you open your now empty mouth to show her that you've done it and she smirks

"Very good, you've done so well for me"

Her praise makes you smile at her and you can't keep yourself from climbing on the bed to kiss her briefly before she moves to make you lie down with your head resting comfortably on the fluffy pillows while she positions herself between your legs. Your new position gives you the perfect opportunity to fully explore her body, feeling her defined muscles under her velvety skin with every brush of your hands over her shoulders, her arms, her abs, her back, her ass, her thighs. She looks even more godly now, looming over you with her large, sculpted frame, looking quite bigger than you, and essentially trapping you between her and the bed. You don't feel trapped though, you feel safe and free, as you lie under her, with the knowledge that she's not here to take something from you, but to have an exchange, that she's accepting what you have to offer with a deep respect for you and your relationship.

The small traces of boldness you felt when you were pleasuring her disappear, as doubt takes over your mind: will you do a good enough job? Will she like your body? Will the fact that you're new to some things make her lose her excitement?

She immediately senses your uncertainty and can almost see your racing thoughts behind your eyes, getting her a little worried

"Are you alright?"

"I just…I don't know what to do now"

You can't even meet her gaze as you almost whisper the words, her constant and extremely casual confidence making it hard for you to admit your helplessness

"Let me do it then, hm?"

She waits for you to look at her and nod back before giving you a sweet smile and laying her palm on your cheek, savouring the way you subtly snuggle into its warmth, making her heart swell at how small you look right now. She leans down and kisses you gently over and over until she feels your tense body relaxing little at a time under hers and, once she feels you slacken, she finally lets her hands wander, gently gliding them over your body as if to not only lull you further, but also to imprint its curves and feel into her own mind. It's only once your breathing quickens and you kiss her more hungrily that she lets herself tentatively reach closer and closer to your chest, cupping your breasts once your hands tighten on her biceps to pull her closer.

The breathy whimper you let out once she lightly swaps her thumbs over your nipples, breaking your kiss, makes her even more excited and curious to find out what other sweet noises she can get out of you, so she moves her lips over your neck, leaving kisses here and there to find your sweet spot and indulging herself into leaving visible marks over your skin, getting spurred even more by your nails slightly scratching over her back and the subtle rocking of your hips. Moving lower and lower she finally comes face to face with your chest and feels pride at the sight of your already panting state, getting even more determined to make you feel as much as she can, so she finally wraps her lips around your right nipple, making you moan out loud and grip her hair harder than you intended. If she's able to make you feel so euphoric even with the simplest of touches, you can't even imagine how you're going to keep yourself grounded later on.

Your body feels like it's on fire and every single snippet of your skin that comes in contact with hers makes you long for her more and more.

She spends quite some time paying attention to your chest, sucking your nipples and the skin around, certainly getting it bruised and sending even more shivers through your body at the thought of being marked by her.

You're so lost in the moment that you don't feel one of her hands leaving its place on your breast to move lower, startling you when it makes contact with your very inner thigh, still wet from you previously rubbing it with the other while on your knees. She sucks your nipple on last time before kissing you while propping one of your legs over her hip and slowly gliding the pads of her fingers up your thigh, getting closer and closer to their destination and making your anticipation grow like never before. The moment her fingers get right below your hip bone she parts from you and looks you dead in the eye, searching for any sign for her to stop and when you give her a small nod she finally lets herself touch you, gently running her fingers up and down your surprisingly soaked slit, making you gasp at the contact and sending a wave of arousal through both of you.

Soon enough, after getting used to the feeling of someone else's hands on the most private part of your body, you can't help yourself from slightly rolling your hips in search of something, anything more, so she finally moves her ministrations directly over your clit, rubbing it slowly in circular motions and making you moan more loudly than you expected. You get even more excited at the feeling of her cock twitching on your thigh every time you moan for her, so you take one hand out of her hair and move it down to grab and pump her, making her hiss at the feeling of your hand back on her, while she keeps touching your clit and occasionally lower, closer to your entrance. You immediately miss her once her fingers leave your center as she gets them closer to your mouth

"Taste yourself"

The rasp behind her voice almost makes you miss her actual words at how hot it sounds, but you're still barely able to make out their meaning, so you grab her hand and suck on her wet fingers, moaning at the taste of your own arousal on your tongue and the feeling of her fingers in your mouth. Once you've sucked them clean and gotten them wet, she takes them out of your mouth and moves them back to your clit, rubbing it one last time before gently probing at your entrance and slowly pushing a finger inside, looking for any sign of discomfort from you before adding another one at the sight of none. You can barely whine as you bite your lip to prevent yourself from moaning too loudly, feeling embarrassed at how your cunt tries to suck her fingers in by tightening around them over and over. Once she's knuckle deep inside of you, you let out a deep breath at the faint pulsing of your clit against the palm of her hand, and look at her with watery eyes at the pleasure you feel even from her fingers staying still inside of you, giving away your extreme arousal when you tighten around her from a small kiss on your lips

"Can I move?"

She whispers her words but you can clearly understand her and quickly nod with big pleading eyes

"Please!"

She can't help but groan at your enthusiasm and barely moves her fingers in and out of you, focusing more on massaging your front wall little by little, getting you used to the sensation and making herself even more frustrated each time she feels your walls spasm around her fingers instead of her cock. She's been extremely patient since you've first gotten on your knees for her and the need to take you and feel you has been eating her up more and more, but the last thing she wants is to make you feel pressured by her, the last person you should feel unsafe with, so she does her best to keep herself grounded and fully focuses on you.

She gradually keeps increasing the pressure of the pad of her fingers on the spongy spot inside of you she easily found, making you embarrassed by the lewd, wet noises that come from your center with each stroke of her fingers and only getting you out of your own head with a particularly hard thrust that gets you freely moaning and tightly gripping the sheets under you. The muscles of her arm get even more defined from the task at hand and her breathing starts shaking from your wet walls engulfing her digits so tightly and the look of ecstasy on your features as she essentially takes your breath away. You're so close, so close to finally cumming undone for her for the first time, so close to the sweetest release

"Natasha! I'm-"

You can barely call her name before your orgasm crushes over you like a tidal wave at full force and runs through your whole body. She can't keep herself from basically growling at just how tight your walls regularly spasm around her fingers and the sight of small droplets of clear liquid coming out of you with every thrust, wetting her wrist and creating a small patch on the sheets under you. It takes you a bit to get down from your orgasm and once it stops, you can't help but sob from how intense it was, slightly shaking from time to time from the aftershocks

"Are you alright? Was it too much?"

There's genuine worry in her voice and eyes and you feel the need to kiss her, hopefully freeing her of her concerns as well

"It was perfect, Natasha"

You barely get to mumble the words against her lips before you need to kiss her again and again until your heart doesn't feel like it's beating out of your chest anymore. She uses your moment of blissed distraction to take her fingers out of you, trying not to cause too much discomfort and breaks the kiss to suck her fingers clean, lowly moaning at your taste on her tongue for the first time.

The sight makes the desire you've been feeling, that's never truly left you yet, come back at full force, startling you at how easily she's able to cause such waves of arousal to run through you.

You can't wait anymore, you need to feel more of her inside of you so bad you might just cry if you can't have her immediately and, based on her hungry eyes and fully erect cock, she might be feeling just the same

"I need you inside of me Natasha"

If your mind wasn't clouded by such want you'd feel embarrassed by your own words and the extreme neediness in your voice, but you simply can't bring yourself to care about it right now and whine at the loss of her body's warmth once she leans back on her knees. You're at a loss for words once you give yourselves time to truly look at each other's naked bodies for the first time and not even the way she grabs your waist to gently slide you down the bed a little bit before putting a pillow under your ass is enough to get you distracted from the perfect sight in front of you. You're finally pulled out of your trance once she makes your thighs rest on top of hers and gets you to automatically wrap your legs behind her back, giving her easy access to your center. Her cock sitting heavy on top of your mound makes you just a little anxious at how big it looks near you, but, sensing your doubt, she immediately takes one of your hands and kisses its back as to hopefully soothe you

"We're going at your pace"

Her words do help you a little but you still feel incredibly nervous, so much so that it seems like you suddenly get aware of every single thing near or on you, the cold golden earrings near your jaw, the soft fabric against your back, the slightest breeze of cooler air over your arm-

"You don't have to…not tonight if you don't want"

Her words, accompanied with a soft rub over your knee finally get your mind back to the moment and remind you, once again, that you can trust her and she won't judge you for anything

"I want it! I want it…"

You reach for her thigh to lightly squeeze it as to further reassure her and, once she gives you a brief nod, you smile at her and very slightly move your hips back and forth to feel her cock slide over your clit, signaling to her that you're more than ready. Natasha feels anticipation like never before once she grabs her own cock and moves her hips back a little to line it up with your entrance, making you tighten around nothing at the lewd sight of her spitting on it to get it all wet before grabbing your hips and slowly pushing in the head.

Your mouth opens in shock at the surprisingly not painful yet still almost extreme stretch and your eyes are pulled away from the sight of your centers getting closer to each other the more she pushes inside, at the sound of her voice as she curses under her breath. Your walls feel even tighter than they did around her fingers and it's really hard for her to keep herself from taking you immediately, but of course your comfort is her first priority at the moment, so, once she's fully inside of you, she stops for a bit, waiting for you to feel comfortable enough for her to move. On the other hand, the pleasure she makes you feel already starts clouding your mind and at the feeling of her staying still, completely inside of you, you can't help but let your head fall back on the mattress and let out a loud whine before looking up at her with pleading eyes

"Please Natasha! I'm ready, I promise! Please!"

That's it, there's no going back now.

She squeezes your hips quite hard as she slowly pulls out to the tip, pushing back inside a bit more quickly and going like this over and over, making you moan a bit more each time, until she sets a steady pace, getting lost in the feeling of your walls wrapped around her. You barely realize it when you're suddenly moving one of your legs to prop it on her shoulder, making her reach different spots than before, sending shock waves through your body and making you squeeze her tighter. Intent on making you feel even better, she almost immediately takes your other leg from her hip and puts it over her other shoulder, ripping a loud moan out of you from the feeling of her cock now reaching your sweet spot more easily with each thrust. The sight of your hands going from gripping the bed sheets to playing with your own nipples makes her throb inside of you and, needing to go even deeper into you, even if impossible, she lets go of your hips and puts her hands on each side of your head, getting as much leverage as she can, while still keeping your legs against her shoulders, to set a new pace, slower but with much harder thrusts, essentially knocking your breath away at the force with which her hips meet yours

"You're so beautiful"

Unfortunately you can barely register her words and find it impossible to form a single word, but try to find her wrist next to your face to give it a squeeze and hopefully make her understand if not that you think the same, at least that you appreciate her telling you that.

You know that in a short time it'll be almost impossible for you to keep yourself from tumbling into another breathtaking orgasm and you try your best to tell her, even though you know she's probably already aware of it by the way your cunt keeps squeezing her more and more

"I'm! I'm going to-"

She was waiting for you to say it yourself and hearing your straining voice trying to get the words out gets her close as well and, before she knows it, she's leaning down on her forearms, basically trapping you under her and reaching impossibly deeper inside of you

"Fuck Natasha!"

You didn't think her thrusts could get any harder, but you were wrong, her rough movements and panting groans right next to your ear are too much for you and get you to an orgasm even harder than the one before in only a couple of seconds. She tries her best to keep herself from cumming to keep thrusting into you and help you through your high, but your desperate moans, your nails raking over her back and your cunt squeezing her impossibly tight make it impossible for her to keep her orgasm from crushing over her. Her clear groans, the feeling of her cum deep inside of you and her, already balls deep, trying in vain to thrust even more into you, send an almost painful pang of arousal deep in you, pulling the last bit of energy out of you and leaving you limp under her large body.

Once her breathing has gone back to somewhat normal she finally lifts herself from her spot and comes face to face with you and only then, after you slightly hiss at her movement, she remembers that she's still inside of you

"Sorry"

There's a light sheen of sweat over her whole body, her mane of hair is tousled and her eyebrows are furrowed as she leans back to slowly pull out, trying not to make you feel too much pain also by gently running her hand up and down your side, making your heart swell at the sweetness behind her action. For a brief moment she looks slightly entranced by the sight of her cum slowly sliding out of you but soon moves away to let herself fall on her back next to you quite ungracefully, making you chuckle at her very non-regal manner. A comfortable silence falls between you two as you savour this moment of serenity and only now you notice how some of the many candles have died out, making the room feel even cozier.

Your droopy eyelids keep closing on their own accord, as exhaustion slowly starts taking over the both of you, but, right before you can drift off completely, her hand reaches over to hold yours one last time and her tired voice breaks the serene silence

"I'm very happy you're the one by my side"

.

.

.

Tags: @fxckmiup @natashasilverfox

[03jyh23]

🌊⌇such a lonely heart┆kim hongjoong

married, hongjoong x gn!reader

│synopsis: if you can't find another reason to stay, then i know i'm gonna always have a lonely heart

│genre: hurt no comfort, angst

│trigger warnings: emotional distress, heartbreak, relationship conflict

│words: 4.1 k

│reminder: what you’re about to read is purely fiction, so let’s keep it separate from reality.

!minors do not interact!

— hi there my lovely people! it feels like forever since i last posted, and oh god, i’m so happy to be back! my hiatus ended up lasting much longer than i intended, and coming back after such a long time is honestly nerve-wracking. this piece of writing took me a long time to complete, but i’m really proud of it. once again, it’s a hongjoong angst with a personal touch, and i think hongjoong will always have that cathartic role in my stories. i hope you guys can feel the emotions i’ve woven into it. thank you for sticking with me—i can’t wait to hear what you think.

love, mon ♡

It was late Thursday night. You were curled up on your bed, blanket wrapped tightly around you, staring blankly at the wall. It was unbearable. Was your mind numb, or was it so full of thoughts that they all clashed together, making you feel overwhelmed and empty simultaneously? You let yourself break again, letting the flood of thoughts and feelings consume you whole. You were drowning, unable to stop the spiral of despair that clawed at you. 

Eighteen times. 

Hongjoong ignored your calls eighteen times tonight. 

And that was your breaking point.

You felt the weight of each ignored call like a stone in your chest, pressing down, making breathing hard. The silence from his end was deafening, drowning out even the sound of your own heartbeat. You wondered, with a bitter taste in your mouth, if this was what it felt like to be truly alone. It wasn't anything new, you spent your nights alone, most of them sleepless as the lack of warmth in your husband's body made it impossible to get some rest. After tossing and turning, you would eventually catch a few hours of sleep, only to wake up in an empty bed. The routine had become painfully familiar. The cold sheets on his side of the bed were a constant reminder of his absence. You'd reach out, hoping against hope, but your fingers would only meet the cool fabric, untouched and undisturbed. 

Anyone would have thought you'd get used to it by now - Hongjoong leaving early for his office and coming back too late to spend time with you. But he would always text that he was doing extra hours or going out for a beer with friends. Tonight, however, was different. There was only radio silence. And nothing hurt more than the quiet. The absence of his usual messages left an ache in your chest that you couldn't ignore. You found yourself checking your phone obsessively, hoping for any sign of communication. But the screen remained stubbornly blank, a stark reminder of the growing distance between you. 

As the hours ticked by, your mind raced with possibilities, each one more unsettling than the last. Was he okay? Had something happened? Or was this simply the new normal - a silence that spoke volumes about the state of your relationship? 

The sound of the door creaking open finally pulled you from your thoughts. Through the narrow gap between the door and its frame, you saw a thin line of light, and then your eyes drifted up to see your husband. Hongjoong stepped into your shared apartment, his ginger hair damp from the rain. He ran his hand through it, pushing the wet strands away from his face, before peeling off his soaked beige coat and slipping off his shoes. You swallowed the lump rising in your throat at the sight of him, tears prickling your eyes again. You blinked rapidly, trying to push them back, gripping the blanket tighter as if it could shield you from the wave of emotions crashing inside you. The fabric pulled up to your chin, a flimsy barrier between you and the ache that had settled deep in your chest. 

The light went out as Hongjoong moved further into the apartment, past the door of your bedroom without a word. He didn’t even glance in your direction. What was wrong? Or was he simply trying to avoid waking you, assuming you should be asleep instead of quietly falling apart? One way or another, it was far too late for him to walk back in like nothing had happened. The silence that followed felt colder than before, sinking into your already worn-out body. 

You could hear him in the living room, the soft rustle of the wardrobe doors opening. Was he planning to sleep on the couch again tonight? You untangled yourself from the blanket, standing quietly before slipping out of the bedroom. The weight of exhaustion and frustration clung to you as you made your way to the kitchenette. You didn’t want to fight. Not tonight. You poured yourself a glass of cold water, grabbed the bottle of painkillers from one of the drawers, and swallowed a couple of pills, hoping they’d dull the throbbing in your head. You glanced at Hongjoong as you set the glass down. He had stopped mid-motion, his hands frozen on the pillow he was arranging on the sofa. Your eyes met briefly, the silence between you thick with unspoken words. As you had guessed, he was indeed preparing to sleep on the couch tonight. The realization sent a fresh wave of pain through your chest. You averted your gaze, unable to bear the weight of his silent stare any longer. The distance between you felt insurmountable, even though you were just a few feet apart in the same room. 

You stood in the dim light of the kitchen, hands gripping the edge of the counter as you tried to steady your breathing. Then, the words you’d been holding back for too long slipped out before you could stop them. "Where were you tonight?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. The question hung in the air, heavy with the weight of all the unanswered calls and unread messages. 

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself before continuing. "I called you eighteen times, Hongjoong. Eighteen. And not once did you pick up or call back. What's going on?" Your eyes met his again, searching for any sign of explanation or remorse. "Are we... are we okay?" The last question came out softer, more vulnerable, betraying the fear that had been gnawing at you all night. The words felt like they had a life of their own, carrying the weight of nights spent alone, of unanswered calls, and of the slow unraveling of something you once thought was unbreakable. You didn’t dare turn around, didn’t want to see the look on his face. Whether it was guilt, anger, or indifference, you couldn’t handle any of it. 

The silence stretched longer, and every second that ticked by only made your heart sink deeper. 

Finally, you heard him shift behind you, his footsteps hesitant, as if he wasn’t sure how to approach the fragile moment. The tension in the room felt suffocating, but you stood your ground, gripping the counter tighter, waiting for him to say something—anything—to break the silence. 

But nothing came. 

Tired. You were both tired—of the silence, of the distance, of pretending everything was fine when it clearly wasn’t. You weren’t sure how much longer you could keep this up, but at that moment, you didn’t have the strength to do anything more than stand there, waiting for an answer that might never come. 

You didn’t turn around as you felt his presence behind you, the warmth of his body radiating in the small space between you. You held your breath, waiting for him to say something, to explain, to apologize—anything to break the suffocating silence that had enveloped you both. One of your hands traveled to your temple, trying to massage away the pounding headache that wouldn’t relent, as if easing the physical pain might somehow dull the ache in your heart too. 

The silence dragged on, and you could feel him standing there, just out of reach, but still not saying a word. It was suffocating, the space between you filled with unspoken thoughts, unresolved arguments, and the growing distance that neither of you seemed able to close. 

"I kept waiting. Waiting for you to call back, to walk through the door, to say something—anything." you continued, voice trembling as you let your hand fall from your temple, now gripping the edge of the counter again.

Hongjoong let out a breath behind you, but it was small, almost inaudible. You could sense his guilt, but guilt alone wasn’t enough to bridge the gap. "I didn’t know what to say," he admitted softly, his voice barely above a whisper, and you could hear the weight of his own struggle in it. 

"You didn’t know what to say?" You turned around slowly, finally meeting his eyes. Your own were burning, a mixture of exhaustion, anger, and desperation swirling together. "Do you think that makes it any better? That just... ignoring me was the right thing to do?" 

He looked down, running a hand through his damp hair again. His hesitation was killing you. You needed him to fight for this, to fight for you. 

The silence stretched between you, thick and heavy. Hongjoong's eyes finally met yours, a storm of emotions swirling in their depths. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words seemed to catch in his throat. 

"Are you giving up on us?" The words tumbled out of your mouth, raw and vulnerable. Your eyes searched his face, desperate for any sign that he still cared, that there was still something worth fighting for. 

Hongjoong's eyes snapped up to meet yours, a flicker of pain crossing his features. For a moment, he looked as lost and scared as you felt. The silence stretched between you, heavy with unspoken fears and fading hopes. "I..." he started; his voice barely audible. He swallowed hard, struggling to find the right words. "I want a divorce, Y/N," Hongjoong finally said, his voice cracking slightly as he forced the words out. 

The world seemed to stop spinning for a moment. You felt as if all the air had been sucked out of the room, leaving you gasping. Your eyes widened in disbelief, searching his face for any sign that this was some cruel joke. But all you saw was a mixture of pain, guilt, and resignation in his eyes. 

"What?" you whispered, barely able to form the word. Your hands gripped the counter behind you, needing something solid to hold onto as your world crumbled around you. 

Hongjoong took a deep breath, his shoulders sagging as if the weight of his words was physically pulling him down. 

You felt tears welling up in your eyes, a lump forming in your throat. All those ignored calls, the nights spent alone, the growing distance - it all suddenly made sense in the worst possible way. The realization hit you like a tidal wave, leaving you struggling to stay afloat in the sea of emotions threatening to drown you. 

"A divorce?" The word felt foreign on your tongue, heavy and bitter. You shook your head, tears now flowing freely down your cheeks. "How... how long have you been thinking about this?" Your voice was barely above a whisper, trembling with the weight of your shattered world. 

Hongjoong's eyes flickered with a mix of guilt and sadness as he answered, his voice low and strained. "For a while now... I've been trying to find the right moment, but there never seemed to be one." He paused, running a hand through his hair, a gesture that once seemed endearing but now felt like a painful reminder of what you were losing. 

The words hit you like a physical blow, and suddenly, all the pain and frustration you'd been holding back came rushing to the surface. Your eyes flashed with anger as you stepped towards him. 

"Empty promises," you spat, your voice quivering with emotion. "Is that what our vows meant to you? Because I meant every single word, I said on our wedding day!" Hongjoong flinched at the intensity of your words, but you couldn't stop. The floodgates had opened. "I said I wanted to spend forever with you, Hongjoong. Forever! And I meant it with every fiber of my being. But for you? Were they just pretty words to say in front of our families and friends?" Your voice cracked, tears streaming down your face. "I promised you my life, my love, my everything. And you're throwing it all away like it meant nothing. Was any of it real for you?" 

The silence that followed was deafening, heavy with the weight of broken promises and shattered dreams. 

Hongjoong's shoulders slumped, his eyes cast downward as if he couldn't bear to meet your gaze. The weight of your words hung in the air between you, a tangible reminder of the promises made and now broken. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper, filled with a mixture of regret and resignation. "It was real," he said, his voice barely audible. "But sometimes... sometimes love isn't enough." He paused, swallowing hard before continuing. "We've grown apart, Y/N. We're not the same people we were when we made those vows." 

"Don't bullshit me now, Hongjoong! It was two years ago! Two years!" Your voice rose, trembling with a mixture of anger and disbelief. "Why did you even bother to fucking marry me if you were going to give up so easily?" Your words echoed in the small space between you, raw with emotion. Your hands were clenched at your sides, your whole body shaking with the force of your outburst. The tears that had been threatening to fall now streamed freely down your face. You searched Hongjoong's face, desperate for any sign that this was all a mistake, that he didn't really mean what he was saying. But all you saw was a mixture of guilt and resignation in his eyes, and it only fueled your anger and hurt more. 

Hongjoong took a deep breath, his eyes meeting yours with a mix of sadness and determination. "I'm sorry, Y/N. I truly am. I didn't marry you with the intention of giving up. I thought... I thought we could make it work. But we've changed, grown apart. The passion, the connection we once had... it's not there anymore." He paused, running a hand through his hair. "I've tried, we've both tried, but it feels like we're just going through the motions. Don't you feel it too? The distance between us, even when we're in the same room?" His voice softened, a hint of vulnerability seeping through. "I didn't want to hurt you, but I realized that staying in a marriage that's lost its spark would hurt us both more in the long run. You deserve someone who can love you fully, completely. And I... I'm not that person anymore." Hongjoong's eyes glistened with unshed tears as he continued, "I know it's not fair. Two years isn't a long time, but it's been long enough for me to realize that we're not making each other happy anymore. And isn't that what marriage should be about? Happiness, growth, mutual support?" He took a shaky breath. "I'm sorry I couldn't be the person you needed me to be. I'm sorry I couldn't keep the promises I made. But I think... I think we both deserve a chance at real happiness, even if it means not being together." 

You were at a loss for words, the reality of the situation sinking in. Finally, you managed to speak, your voice barely above a whisper, trembling with emotion. "No, I don't feel it too. What I feel is the desperate longing for you when you're not here. I love you, it never changed." You realized, with a crushing finality, that you would never hear him say he loves you again.

Swallowing hard, fighting back a fresh wave of tears, you spoke again, your voice hollow. "I'm going to pack my bags." 

As you turned to leave, you felt a hand grasp your arm gently. Hongjoong's touch, once so familiar and comforting, now sent a jolt of pain through your heart. "Y/N, please..." His voice was barely above a whisper, filled with a mixture of desperation and regret. You froze, your back still to him. For a moment, you allowed yourself to feel the warmth of his hand, to remember all the times that touch had brought you comfort. But the pain of his words, the finality of his decision, was too fresh. 

With a sharp intake of breath, you pulled your arm away, stepping out of his reach. You couldn't bear to look at him, afraid that if you did, you might crumble completely. "Don't," you managed to say, your voice trembling. "Just... don't." Without turning back, you spoke, your voice barely above a whisper but filled with cold finality, "You can tell your lawyer to bring the papers to my parents." 

The words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of your shattered dreams and the future that would never be. You didn't wait for a response, couldn't bear to hear whatever Hongjoong might say. Instead, you walked away, each step feeling like it was taking you further from the life you had once imagined, towards an uncertain and lonely future. 

You packed your bags in a hurry, the silence broken only by the rustling of clothes and the soft thud of items being hastily tossed into your suitcase. Your hands trembled as you gathered the necessities, your mind a whirlwind of emotions. 

As you made your way to the door, you paused, your hand resting on the cool metal of the doorknob. Despite the pain coursing through you, you couldn't help but turn for one last look at the man you loved—still love. Hongjoong sat on the sofa, his head buried in his hands, eyes fixed on the floor. The sight of him, so defeated and lost, sent a fresh wave of anguish through your heart. For a moment, you stood there, memorizing every detail of this final scene, knowing it would be etched in your memory forever. 

With a deep breath, you reached into your pocket and pulled out your keys. The metal felt cold against your skin, a stark reminder of the life you were leaving behind. You walked over to the drawer near the entrance, your steps echoing in the heavy silence. As you placed the keys on the drawer, they made a sharp, metallic cling that seemed to reverberate through the apartment. The sound was jarring in the stillness, causing Hongjoong to snap his head up, his eyes meeting yours for a brief, intense moment. 

That single sound seemed to encapsulate everything - the end of your shared life, the finality of his decision, the irreversible nature of what was happening. It was as if that small noise had shattered the last remnants of the world, you once shared. 

Hongjoong's voice broke through the silence, barely above a whisper, but filled with a mixture of regret and desperation. "Y/N, wait..."He stood up, his eyes pleading. "I... I never meant for it to end like this. Please, don't leave this way—you don't have to go." His words were mumbled out quickly, a desperate need in them that you couldn't quite understand. The sudden shift in his tone caught you off guard, making you pause at the door. You turned slightly, not fully facing him, but enough to show you were listening. 

You felt a mix of emotions wash over you - anger, hurt, confusion. Part of you wanted to turn and run, to escape this painful situation. But another part of you needed answers, needed to understand how things had fallen apart so quickly. With a deep breath, you steadied yourself and turned to face Hongjoong fully. "What do you mean, don't leave this way?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. "You just told me you want a divorce. What other way is there to leave?" 

Hongjoong got up from the sofa and took a few quick steps in your direction. His expression faltered, a mix of guilt and uncertainty crossing his features. He took a hesitant step towards you, his hand reaching out but stopping short of touching you. "I... I don't know," he admitted, his voice barely audible. "I just... I can't bear the thought of you walking out that door, even though I know I'm the one who caused this." His words hung in the air, heavy with contradiction. You felt a surge of anger mixed with confusion, your emotions threatening to spill over. Taking a deep breath, you steadied yourself, your grip tightening on your suitcase handle. 

"Hongjoong," you began, your voice low and controlled, "you can't have it both ways. You can't ask for a divorce and then expect me to stay." You felt your resolve waver slightly at the vulnerability in his voice, but you steeled yourself, knowing you had to stay strong. 

"It's just hard to see you walk away in silence like we're strangers," Hongjoong said, his voice barely above a whisper, filled with a mixture of regret and longing. 

His words hit you like a physical blow, and you felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes. You took a deep, shaky breath before responding. "And it's hard for me to stay and pretend everything's okay when you've just shattered my world," you replied, your voice quivering. "We're not strangers, Hongjoong. We're two people who once vowed forever to each other, and now we're crumbling that promise." The silence that followed was heavy, filled with unspoken words and painful realizations. You both stood there, caught in a moment that felt both eternal and fleeting, the weight of your shared history and uncertain future hanging between you. 

Hongjoong's eyes met yours, a mixture of pain and regret swirling in their depths. You could see the conflict within him, the struggle between what he thought he wanted and the reality of losing you.

Suddenly, without warning, Hongjoong closed the distance between you. His hands cupped your face, and before you could react, his lips crashed against yours. The kiss was desperate, filled with a mixture of passion, regret, and longing. It caught you off guard, your body tensing at first before instinctively melting into the familiar warmth of his embrace. For a moment, the world around you faded away. There was only Hongjoong, the taste of his lips, the feel of his hands on your skin. It was as if all the love, all the memories, all the pain of your relationship was poured into this one, final kiss. 

But as quickly as it began, reality came crashing back. You pulled away, breathless and confused, your mind reeling from the sudden turn of events. Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at Hongjoong, seeing the same turmoil reflected in his gaze. 

"Why?" you whispered, your voice barely audible, trembling with emotion. "Why now, when you've already decided to let me go?" 

Hongjoong's expression crumbled, he took a shaky breath, his hands falling to his sides as he struggled to find the words. "I... I don't know," he finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for everything." 

You choked on a sob, the finality of it all settled, and you found yourself struggling to breathe. With trembling hands, you reached for the door handle, your vision blurring with unshed tears. "Goodbye, Hongjoong," you managed to whisper, your voice barely audible and thick with emotion. The words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of everything you had shared and everything you were now losing. 

Without looking back, you stepped through the doorway, the soft click of the door closing behind you echoing in your ears like a death knell. As you made your way down the hallway, each step felt like it was taking you further from the life you had known, from the love you had cherished, and into an uncertain, lonely future. 

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[love-byers]

if mlvn is supposed to be the main romance of the show, the no. 1 couple, why would the writers save their big i love you moment for a scene where there is so much distraction

there is so much going on here. el choking, mike shifting around and hesitating, will in the background, light flickering, multiple cuts to jonathan and argyle

and then of course the fact that el is in vecnas mind space which is visually displeasing. it's red, bloody looking, thunder is crashing, the vines are squelching, el is crying, max is dying, and also the depressing music conveniently titled "You're The Heart."

there is SO MUCH HAPPENING!! this moment is supposed to be about el and mike, but it couldn't be farther from that.

and for people saying "well that's just what was happening in the moment!", this isnt real life. the story can be literally whatever the duffers want it to be. they could've written the scene differently so there was more tenderness, intimacy, gentleness, emotion. they could've found time for mike and el to have a sweet moment to themselves where he apologizes, and then when el is choking she simply remembers that moment and all of her memories with mike over the years. but nope, it just had to be the other way.

this scene is an example of exactly how to create intimacy between 2 characters in a scene with multiple other people. they made sure to do it a specific way to build will and mike's relationship.

when joyce is talking to will, jonathan is standing in the background for most of it. they also cut to mike and hopper watching. we are reminded there are others in the shed. they cut to will multiple times as joyce talks.

this next thing may sound insignificant, but it's not. they cut to jonathan BEFORE he starts speaking. he watches will for a second, then starts talking about the day lonnie left. then it immediately cuts to joyce, before cutting back to jonathan kneeling down in front of will. as jonathan talks there are shots of just jonathan, jonathan and joyce, and will listening.

they saved mikes for last. every writer knows whatever comes last will have the most impact.

when mike starts speaking, will is still looking at jonathan. wills head shoots towards mike. only after that do we see mike, and he's already crying.

they don't cut away from mike until he says "you were just swinging by yourself" it cuts to will then. then we're back to mike, and it doesn't cut until he's done talking.

there's no music, no flickering, no one else making noise or talking. there's no noise besides mike speaking, will breathing, and crickets outside. it sounds oxymoronic to say this, but the crickets only emphasize how silent it is in the shed besides mike. it's so silent and calm in there that you can hear the crickets. you can barely see anything behind mike, it's just his face illuminated by the light. mike isn't yelling, he's talking softly. this is gentle. intimate.

then it cuts back to will, and he looks more emotional than he has this whole time they've been trying to break through to him. his eyes are red and glossy, his breaths are shuddering as he looks at mike, like he's about to break and cry.

when it cuts to joyce, it's jarring. it tears wills eyes from mike. because at this point we've completely forgotten that there are other people in the room. it's like mike and will are in their own little bubble, like they're the only two people in the world. go and rewatch the full scene, its striking how different mikes monologue to will is shot compared to the others. it suddenly feels so much more intimate and emotionally intense.

and it doesn't, not for a SECOND, lead you to believe mike is hesitant or struggling to tell the truth. it's like the words are spilling straight out of mikes heart into will's. he does not have to be pushed into this or encouraged. the moment jonathan was done talking mike knew exactly what he wanted to say, and he was already so emotional he was crying.

it's coming from him. from his heart.

looking at joyce

looking at jonathan

looking at mike.

and to any deniers here saying all of this is just because of wills feelings for mike..

that's cruel.

that's actually cruel.

it would be DIABOLICAL for the writers to give byler such a sweet emotional moment like this just for it to end in a character who's already on the struggle bus being completely heartbroken. that is straight up cruel to will.

and it would also be queerbaiting lolz

and before you go, quick question. can you imagine THIS mike avoiding wills hug?

i highly doubt it.

[lizzieolseniskinda]

LOGAN HOWLETT - all too well

x FEM!reader (POC!friendly) - MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: you & logan were a thing, but in the end it all fell down

WORD COUNT: 3462 (excl. song lyrics)

GENRE: angsty

CONTENT WARNING: english is not my first language, lowercase ahead, this is my third story soooo..., ik ppl say that the scarf is a metaphor, but here it's just a scarf <3

italics is a flashback <3

listen to 'all too well' (five minute version) from taylor swift for better experience <3.

‘i walked through the door with you

the air was cold

but something about it felt like home somehow

and i, left my scarf there at your sister's house

and you've still got it in your drawer even now'

the autumn cold bit at my cheeks as i stepped out of the car. i looked at the mansion before me, the x-mansion. i walked towards the tall doors where logan was standing. he took my bags as i walked through the doors. the old wood creaked slightly under our weight.

almost immediately i felt the warmth of the school. i took off my scarf with my gloves and jacket, it smelt like hot chocolate in here. reminding me of the times i used to spend christmas with my parents waiting on my chocolate milk my mom used to make.

professor x welcomed me with a charming smile. his school was spacious yet cozy, every nook and wall filled with complementing wooden furniture. i placed my bags by the stairs as charles led us into the living area. the room smelled even more of cinnamon and chocolate.

time flew by in that living room, sounds of loud laughter and chatting filled the whole massion. it was times like these i appreciated the most. students came wandering inside and outside, either sitting with us for a while or getting some snacks for their small gathering. charles told me that it wasn't always he let teens walk freely after curfew, but when it's the day before Christmas, who is he to say no to them?

i leaned my head against logan's shoulder, my stomach feeling content and full after consuming one too many cookies and chocolates. he placed a hand on my leg and asked if i wanted to go upstairs to rest, and i nodded in reply. so, we excused ourselves. teens were scattered around the hallways as the both of us walked towards my bags.

we reached the top of the staircase, and logan led me into his room. once we reached his room, we sat on his bed, and i opened my bag. i fished out my pajamas and turned around to change. after completely changing, logan appeared behind me, wrapping his arms around me and placing soft, gentle kisses on my shoulder.

'oh, your sweet disposition

and my wide-eyed gaze

we're singing in the car, getting lost upstate

autumn leaves falling down like pieces into place

and i can picture it after all these days'

the trees blurred by as logan sped down the twisting country roads, the wold a swirl of amber, gold, and russet tones. my window was down, letting the crisp autumn air rush in, my hair was in braids so that no small strands would fly in my face. logan was driving with one hand on the wheel, the other tapping along to the rhythm of the music. i wasn't even sure if he knew where we were headed; we'd veered off course miles back, but neither of us seemed to mind.

"do you even know where we are?" i asked with a grin, my voice raised over the music.

he glanced over at me, his eyes had a sparkle i hadn't seen in so long, but had become so used to. "not a clue, but does it really matter?" he replied with a light hearted laugh.

i shook my head, it didn't. nothing mattered in that moment except the rush of the open road and the way we were singing along to the songs. his hoarse but sweet, wild but calm voice carried the melody effortlessly, even when my voice faltered.

leaves were spiralling down in slow, soothing cascades, covering the road in a blanket of color.

we didn't talk much during that drive, just let the music carry us further, winding through the countryside as if we could do this forever and never run out of road or gas. i could still picture that moment now, after all this time - the way he hummed along, the way the leaves fell like pieces of a story we didn't fully understand yet. but thinking back, it didn't matter, it used to feel right.

'and i know it's long gone and that magic's not here no more

and i might be okay but I'm not fine at all'

it had been months since i had last seen him. people assure me that time heals, that i'll be okay eventually, and maybe i will be. every day is the same; i get up, go to work, laugh when expected, smile when someone asks about my well-being. but it's the quiet moments of silence that the reality intrudes, like a wave crashing down upon me.

the happy feeling that once filled this place - has vanished, vanished for a while now. yet, there are moments, brief fragments of days, when i can still feel it - like a phantom limb. i find myself searching for you in a crowded place, then the realization dawns on me - he's not here anymore. and there's a big chance he won't be coming back to me.

'cause there we are again on that little town street

you almost ran the red 'cause you were lookin' over at me

wind in my hair, i was there

i remember it all too well'

it was a late afternoon, and the sun hung low in the sky, casting everything in a tender, golden light. the small town we'd stumbled upon felt like a picture-perfect scene from a postcard - quiet streets lined with old brick buildings, trees bending overhead, their leaves tinged with the fading colors of autumn. we had been driving for hours, with no real destination in mind, again.

he was driving with one hand resting casually on the wheel. his gaze would flick between the road and me. every time his eyes met mine, a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and i couldn't help but smile back, even though i tried act like i didn't notice. the windows were down, allowing the wind to dance through his hair.

the car slowed as we came up to a small intersection, the kind that didn't seem to need stoplights because the whole town was quiet - almost no cars to be seen. a red light was hanging above the street. it was as if his foot hesitated on the brake as his gaze lingered on me for just a second too long. i stretched out my arm towards his face, and redirected his gaze. the way he looked at me, almost took my breath away. the way he looked at me like there was no one else in the world, made me wonder what went wrong.

"you almost ran it, logan," i scolded him, half-laughing, as the car jolted to a stop just in time.

he chuckled lightheartedly in response, his voice carrying a sound that i cherished so much. "my bad, bub." his eyes twinkled in the red light.

i rolled my eyes, my heartbeat quickened, and i couldn't help the warmth that spread through me. the traffic signal changed to green, and he drove through the intersection. the town went by in slow motion, passing an old diner, a corner bookstore, and a nearby park where a few kids were running through the puddles and leaves, their laughter echoing slightly down the streets.

'photo album on the counter

your cheeks were turning red

you used to be a little kid with glasses in a twin-sized bed

and your mother's telling stories 'bout you on the tee-ball team

you told me 'bout your past thinking your future was me'

a photo album was lying between us, logan was seated next to me in my classroom. i was trying to ignore how my past was so different from his, i had a better childhood than most of people here. logan's memories were scattered, and most of them too painful to keep.

logan let out a breath, "i don't have much to show from my past." his voice was low, there was a certain tension in the room, but not a negative one. "i don't have any pictures, or any family stories."

unconsciously, i started leaning in, he never liked to talk about his past. he kept it buried most of the time, but it felt different this time. his gaze flicked to the photo album for a moment, then back to me.

"i wasn't born as logan," he started, his jaw was clenching as he closed his mouth. "my real name was james, back in the 1800s," he explained. i tried not to gasp, my boyfriend was almost 200 years old. "i grew up in canada, in a rich family. my father wasn't really my father, though," his voice dropped a bit. "i was just a kid when it happened. my actual father showed up, and it got violent, i killed him," he looked at me. "i didn't mean to, but after all that happened, i didn't know what to do. i was so lost."

"i've fought wars, and then i ended up in an experiment from the government. they took away what little i had left, wiped my memories, turned me into a weapon. i was barely human." he clenched his fists, knuckles whitening. "i spent years to figure it out, but never got anywhere close."

logan looked up, his eyes meeting with mine. "i didn't think i had a future, not until you. i don't know if i can ever escape what i was,' logan whispered hoarsely. "but when i think of the future, it's not as dark as it used to be, not when you're in it."

i swallowed hard, the weight of what he was saying pressed down on me. he wasn't talking about the past anymore - he was offering a piece of himself, a fragile piece.

'and i know it's long gone and there was nothing else I could do

and i forget about you long enough to forget why I needed to'

the mansion was buzzing with students talking and wandering around. i stood outside jean's classroom, watching through the gap of the door as he spoke with her. jean. the way he softened his voice when he talked to her, the way he stood just a little bit closer, like he was pulled towards her without even realizing it.

he used to look at me like that.

but it felt as if he was miles away, even though i was only a few steps from him. by now i should've gotten used to it, the way he kept slipping through my fingers, always just out of reach. but everytime it hit harder, that feeling of being so close and yet so far.

i knew that when i was with him, it was something real. we had something real. the late night talkes, our laughter echoing the hallways of the mansion. the way he used to look at me, with that glimmer in his eyes that made me believe we were something bigger. but then he got to know everyone better, and so she came along. jean, with her fiery red hair and pretty face, and suddenly, i wasn't enough for him.

'cause there we are again in the middle of the night

we're dancing 'round the kitchen in the refrigerator light

down the stairs, i was there

i remember it all too well, yeah'

it was quite late - well past midnight - the mansion was quiet. the only light came from the soft, yellow glow of the refrigerator door we'd left open, casting shadows that extended across the kitchen floor and island. i couldn't remember what had brought us down there in the first place. perhaps it was his restless energy, or maybe it was mine. we found ourselves standing in the refrigerator light, laughing over some long-forgotten jest, our bare feet resting against the cool tiles.

he was leaning against the counter, arm crossed, a crooked smile on his face, gracing his features. it was a rare thing, that smile - so much gentler than the stern and hardened expression he typically wore in public.

out of the blue, he grabbed my hand and pulled me towards him, catching me off guard. i smiled softly, stumbling slightly into his chest as he started to spin me around. "what are you doing?" i asked, words bubbling out with a grin i couldn't keep off my face.

"dancin'," he smirked, his voice low and gravelly, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

we swayed in the soft light, the gentle hum of the refrigerator the only sound in the room. our feet were moving in perfect sync with each other, our footsteps barely audible against the smooth surface of the kitchen floor. the world outside didn't matter in moments like these, it was just us, lost in something that felt so small yet so infinite at the same time.

'and maybe we got lost in translation

maybe i asked for too much

But maybe this thing was a masterpiece 'til you tore it all up

Running scared, I was there

I remember it all too well'

the moonlight streamed through the large windows in the hallway, casting long, eerie shadows that danced menacingly across the floor. the tension between logan and i had been building up for weeks, months even.

after what felt like an eternity, he finally walked in. his face was hard, guarded, a familiar look he always wore when he didn't want to deal with something. i could feel anger rising in my chest, yet underneath it all, there was another feeling, raw and painful.

"what's going on between you and jean?" my voice sharper than i meant it to be. he stopped in his tracks, eyebrows knitting together. "what're you talkin' about?" he said, his tone flat, evasive.

i sighed and pinched my nose, "you know what i'm talking about logan." he shook his head, denying everything i was saying.

"i see the way you look at her. like she's the only person in the room, the world even."

his fists clenched at his side, but he stayed silent. that only made it worse, made the hurt cut deeper. i could feel the tears threatening to fall down any minute, but i swallowed them down, refusing to show how much it hurt.

"maybe it was stupid to think we could ever be something more, that we might've had a chance. but, logan, whatever we had - it was real, good," my voice wavered. "you ruined it."

logan's eyes flicked to the floor, his jaw tight. "i didn't mean for it to happen like this, it's just you and me, remember?" he muttered, his voice was low, as if he was struggling to find the right words. "jean...she.. it's complicated, i didn't-"

"didn't what?" i interrupted, stepping closer towards him. "didn't mean to get lost in her? didn't mean to make me feel like i was never enough? ignoring me, the moment she stepped in the room?" i scoffed.

"i was there for you. i was there when you told me everything, when you let me in, and now you're throwing it all away for someone who doesn't even see you the way i do. she's with scott, logan!"

his eyes finally met mine, and for a split second, i though i saw something - a hint of regret, of the man i knew. but then his walls came back up, and he stepped away, creating a distance once again.

"i didn't tear it apart!" he growled, frustration simmering beneath his words. "it's not that simple."

"but it is," i whispered, my voice barely audible now. "it is simple, logan. you just don't want to see it."

once again, we stood there, inches apart but worlds away from each other. silence becoming suffocating, with all the thing that were said and unsaid, all the pieces of us that had shattered somewhere along the way. i wanted to reach out, but i couldn't, he was already gone.

'and you call me up again just to break me like a promise

so casually cruel in the name of being honest

i'm a crumpled up piece of paper lying here

'cause i remember it all, all, all

too well'

it was cold and raining when i heard the phone ring - of course it was. the kind of rain that soaked through your clothes and settled deep into your skin. i sat on the edge of my couch, staring at the phone that hung on my wall, ringing. my stomach twisted in a familiar, painful knot. i knew that answering the phone would only hurt me even more, but i became so addicted to his voice, i couldn't stay away.

"logan," i said, keeping my voice firm and steady.

there was a pause on logan's end, i could hear his breath, heavy and uneven. my heart pounded in my chest, a small flicker of hope sparking against my better judgement.

“I wanted to talk,” logan said, his voice rough, strained. “About everything.” i let out a breath i was holding, letting his words sink in and physically melt from the sound of his voice.

my spine straightened, and that flicker of hope i'd been foolish enough to feel quickly died. a rustling sound came through from the other end. scott's voice came through the line, clear and hard.

"you need to stay away from jean," scott said without preamble, his tony cold. i shook my head, i did not need to hear this. this just made me question the fact that logan was still spending time with jean even more.

"she's not yours to run to whenever you feel like messing with someone's head, you've done enough damage."

i sighed, gripping the telephone tighter. i could hear logan protesting, but scott barely gave him a chance to talk. "and while you're at it, stay away from her too." scott's words hit like a slap to logan's face. "wh-"

"you know exactly who i'm talking about. you keep calling her, stringing her along whenever you can't figure out what you want, and i'm done watching from the sidelines. you don't get to hurt her anymore. so if you know what's good for you, you'll leave her alone," scott's voice was scarily calm.

i swallowed hard, i felt like i shouldn't be listening to this. scott's voice dropped lower, "and if you ever cared about her - about either of them - you won't call her again. don't show up. don't send a message. just let her be, logan." there was a long pause, and for a moment, i thought he'd hung up. "because if you keep calling her just to break her all over again, i'll make sure you never get the chance to do it again." i was surprised scott would talk for me like that. i never was really close with him.

"give me the phone, logan," and the line went dead.

i stood there, phone in my hand, i wanted to scream, cry, throw something, maybe even throw up. but i didn't, i just hung up the phone again and walked away.

'time won't fly, it's like i'm paralyzed by it,

i'd like to be my old self again.

but I'm still trying to find it.

after plaid shirt days and nights when you made me your own.

now you mail back my things and i walk home alone,

but you keep my old scarf from that very first week.

'cause it reminds you of innocence,

and it smells like me.

you can't get rid of it,

'cause you remember it all too well, yeah'

it was a week that seemed to stretch on forever, time moving as slow as it could. i stood in my small home, staring at the box storm brought me that came from logan. it sat on the kitchen table. i already knew the contents of the box, my things, probably stuff i gave logan as well that he wouldn't want to keep anymore.

i opened the box, a couple of shirts, an old book i'd left in his room, little reminders of the nights we'd spend together. at the bottom of the box i found the scarf i'd wore when i first came to the mansion.

i held it up close, the soft fabric taking me back to that one autumn two years ago. back when it felt like we had all the time in the world.

but time made it so hard to forget. i'd tried so hard to go back to the person i used to be, before i met him - to the person who didn't get so wrapped up in boys.

'cause there we are again when i loved you so,

back before you lost the one real thing you've ever known.

it was rare, i was there, i remember it all too well.'

i remember it was a lazy summer afternoon when the air was thick with warmth and the world felt content. we were lying on the grass near the lake behind the mansion, the sun casted a golden light.

logan has his arms crossed behind his head, staring up at the sky, while i laid next to him, tracing invisible shapes in the clouds with my mind. i turned my head towards him.

"so, what do you want to do this summer?" i said with a small smile, my fingers playing with the blanket we put down on the grass. "what would you do if we could just... take off for a bit?"

logan tilted his head towards me, "summer?" he chuckled softly. "i don't really think that far ahead."

i nudged him with my elbow, "come on, logan. dream a little, where would you go?"

he sighed, glancing at the sky. "somewhere quiet," he said after a moment. "someplace where there's nothing but trees and mountains. no noise, no people."

i nodded in agreement. "i could get behind that idea, we could find a cabin somewhere, spend our days walking around or sitting by a fire at night."

"yeah," he mumbled. "maybe get off the grid for a while, forget about everything. i watched him, feeling the what the words settled between us like a promise.

“mhm,” you agreed, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “maybe get off the grid for a while. forget about everything.”

"i've never done that before," he said. "let myself think about things like that."

i looked over at him, "what do you mean?"

"something good," he replied, his gaze still fixed on the sky. "something that doesn't end in loss or running."

"you don't have to run anymore, logan," i said softly. "we could make those plans real. it would be just you and me."

he didn't respond right away, but i could see how his jaw clenched slightly. "it's just you and me," logan nodded.

i laid back down, my head resting against the grass. i closed my eyes, the warmth of the setting sun on my face.

'wind in my hair, you were there, you remember it all.

down the stairs, you were there, you remember it all.

it was rare, i was there, i remember it all too well.'