#there's nothing healthy about any part of this dynamic

[liminalpsych]

A very, very roughly sketched, unedited scene that wouldn't leave me alone this morning and demanded to be written (....oh hey @queer-ragnelle! I accidentally made a Lusty Month of May / May Day Parade contribution!):

The week they arrive at Sorelois. Perhaps even the day. Guinevere is half-mad with rage and grief, reeling from Arthur's betrayal, the loss of her marriage, of her court. It's the usurping of her entire life.

It makes her bold. It makes her want to be cruel. It makes her want to strike back or to take what she wants or to rebel in some small or large way. It makes her want to hurt Arthur in turn, or transgress since she has already been spurned from society and convicted for something for which she's innocent.

"There is something I wish to see," Guinevere says, there in the somber quiet of the receiving room with Lancelot, Galehaut, and Lady Bloie of Malehaut. An announcement to the air, undirected.

Lancelot responds first, of course, as expected. He kneels before her, the picture of earnest devotion. "Whatever you wish, my queen, I will strive my utmost to bring it to you."

Across the room, towering nigh to the ceiling even leaned against the wall as he is, Galehaut watches her with a carefully neutral expression. Unblinking, unsmiling, and there's the barest tightening around his eyes. He is wary of her still, and senses her mood.

The Lady of Malehaut is a different kind of unreadable entirely, lounging next to her with a spot of embroidery to keep her clever hands busy. Her full mouth is always a breath away from smiling, like she carries with her a trove of private amusements at all times. She observes from beneath half-lidded eyes, her needle flashing through cloth more by touch than sight.

Guinevere lifts her loyal knight's chin with a touch of her finger. His lips part, eyes wide and wondering. She smiles. "I want to you to give Galehaut a kiss."

Ah, if only she dared to watch Galehaut's expression in that moment! Yet she must keep her focus on Lancelot. His face pales. His breath catches in his throat. His pulse thrums against her finger like a trapped and frantic bird. "M-my queen?" he stammers, gaze darting side to side as if for an escape.

Her smile sharpens, serpentine. "Do you not wish to?"

"I— I am not—" He's breathing rapid and shallow now, on the edge of panic. It's a pretty quandary she's put him in, one with no known safe answer, and he's reeling under it.

(She feels more steady by the moment, her control re-establishing in the small sphere she still possesses.)

Galehaut steps forward. There's the edge of fury in his warning, in the creak of leather and the rattle of maille. "My lady," he rumbles.

Now Guinevere looks his way, and she lifts a graceful eyebrow at the storm in his countenance. Lancelot quivers beneath her touch, unmoored by the loss of her pinning gaze. "Will you tell me truly that you don't want this, Galehaut?"

He halts. His jaw works; the stormclouds thicken. He glares, proud and silent.

Guinevere laughs. It's a free, bell-like sound—as playful as a day a-Maying. Lancelot stills and his breathing steadies, soothed by her apparent merriment. She makes a show of taking pity on him, releasing his chin to stroke his cheek. "Do you wish to kiss me?" she murmurs, leaning closer.

His breath catches again, no different than before. He nods.

She kisses him, sweet and soft; he returns it with a small desperate sound against her lips. (It tastes like power.) He's breathless when she pulls away, and she smiles down at him, indulgent. "I know Galehaut desires a kiss from you as well," she says, "and he is the one who brought us together, yes?"

Another nod, and Lancelot seems more dazed than panicked now. Swaying towards her, and glancing shyly towards his boon companion, who draws a sharp bracing breath.

"It is not as if he's a lady," she says with a wink. "So it is not being untrue to me. And it is my request, is it not?"

"Y—yes, my lady...?"

"Do you not want to kiss him?"

"I..." Those expressive eyes flicker from her lips to Galehaut's and back again. His breath quickens again, but this time it is a little less panicked. "My lady, you ask hard questions," he says at last, helplessly.

She laughs again, darkened with satisfaction. "Kiss him, then," she commands, "and then tell me if you want to do it again."

"My lady," protests Galehaut, strained—oh, and there is longing so sharp that it is agonized, bare and naked in every rigid muscle and the aching furrow of his brow. He looks at Lancelot like a man starving. He looks at Guinevere like a man betrayed.

To give Galehaut what he so desperately desires, when he knows it is something she can take away at any moment? To receive a kiss from his Lancelot, but only on the order of Lancelot's lover-queen? For Galehaut to touch his companion in the way he desires, but only so long as Guinevere allows it, never knowing truly if Lancelot would have initiated on his own, never being certain of Lancelot's desire?

It's a power like none she's ever wielded before.

Lancelot stumbles to Galehaut on unsteady legs with a last hesitant glance over his shoulder. Guinevere smiles encouragingly and nods her approval. One last nudge—and still, Galehaut could refuse Lancelot. Galehaut is sworn to neither Guinevere nor Arthur; he needs not obey her. Galehaut could save the last unconquered edges of his heart and maintain this last barrier of distance. He could still refuse himself what he wants so badly.

Galehaut tenses, and Galehaut wavers, and Galehaut's heaves great draughts of air as if he's in the thick of a melee.

Lancelot reaches out, and Galehaut surrenders.

[greenerteacups]

Hi GT,

Forgive me if this is a stupid question, but I absolutely love the recs you've given (you've introduced me to tomione, and I love it!) and I was wondering if it's possible to give you some recs in return? There are some books and fics that definitely have dramione / got vibes, and I was wondering if I could share them with you!

So glad you've enjoyed them! Feel free to rec me anything you want. I've read most of the classic recs in terms of fic and adjacent content (Cruel Prince et al), but I'll try anything that's well-written. My tastes run towards weird and/or audaciously creative stuff, and I can forgive a lot of weaknesses in plot on the grounds of (1) ambition or (2) character work. My turnoffs are instalove, protagonists who can't fail, and most Y/A (I'm not a hater, I swear, I just need characters who can say "fuck" when their leg gets chopped off.)

I'm also a fan of weird and fucked-up dynamics.(Wuthering Heights was my favorite book for a while, and as a teenager I wrote an AU in which the book ends on a long sex scene where Heathcliff fucks Cathy's ghost and then immediately gets murdered by Catherine 2.) Obviously, I am very normal.

[arcadianico]

i think one of the reasons i dislike qtntduo as a ship is that wilbur hasn’t been on since literally before the brazilians arrived and everything about qq and elq was always made to be about him. and listen, i know qq’s obsession played a role in that but also qq’s thing about wilbur is so much more complicated that it usually gets portrayed. also having them be romantic and actually involved with each other would be boring sorry

[selfcarecap]

Cat & Dog [L.H.]

✧ Logan Howlett x kitty hybrid!reader

✧ summary: Logan rescues you, a kitty hybrid, on a mission and you become infatuated with him. (that’s all the plot you get, the rest is porn lol <3)

✧ warnings: smut 18+, unequal power dynamics bc Logan saves reader (and she’s a bit naive and inexperienced), kitty hybrid!reader (human with kitty ears, a tail, claws and kind of fangs and she purrs), reader’s first time, unprotected piv, oral sex, Logan teases reader a lot, slight daddy kink (like two mentions – still figuring out whether i like it for Logan), implied age gap, pet names (baby, bub, kid (not during sex), sweetheart, kitty — at first mockingly but then not), reader making biscuits on Logan w/ her claws lol, slight pain kink, Logan teaches reader about consent, uh i ignored that the reader’s probably gone through some trauma lool, Logan is indifferent to reader’s feelings for him at first but it changes, reader wears Logan’s hoodie; alternative summary that i thought was too cringe to use: Logan’s a nasty dog and you’re his pretty kitty. 

✧ word count: 5.2k

Logan Howlett is your saviour — the most handsome hero to ever exist.

He finds you on a mission, abandoned like the runt of the litter. The only reason he knows you’re still alive as he carefully approaches you, curled into a ball, is because his strengthened senses allow him to hear your dull heartbeat, and the matted tail at your lower back bristles when you hear him come closer.

“I’ll get you out of here, kid. You’re safe now,” he says, telling you his name and that he’s part of the X-Men. You turn slightly at the sound of one of his claws unsheathing, and watch him use it to pick the lock of the cage you’re being held in.

He opens the door and takes more steps backwards than necessary, “There you go.” 

You’d be able to dart straight past him and escape. You trust him. He smells different from the men that locked you in here, too. Sure, he smells a bit doggish, or like a wolf maybe, but he’s sweaty from fighting men to get to you so you’re not going to complain.

You slowly crawl through the cage door on all fours, feeling his eyes rake over your body. You don’t know why he’s staring – apart from your tail, and, sure, your ears, you have the body of a human – but you don’t mind it. You immediately feel warm in his presence. Everything is about to get better, all thanks to him.

He carries you in his arms when you’re too weak to even stand and you’ve never felt as peaceful and protected as when he holds you, and you cling to him with all the energy you have left. You can’t help but hiss when he puts you down in the seat next to him instead of in his lap to get you home.

-

It’s now been two weeks since you last saw Logan. He gave you his zip hoodie to keep you warm as soon as you got to the mansion and he didn’t leave your side until you were safely in the infirmary. You wish he never left.

They’re insisting on keeping you in here to heal, ignoring every time you ask for Logan. You feel healthy – they’ve even made your tail all pretty and fluffy again – so you take it upon yourself to find him.

You sneak out of the infirmary late at night, and all you have to do to find Logan is follow your senses.

Once you’ve located his room, you push the door open without any thought. He’s in bed but he’s still awake. The light on his nightstand casts a glow over the room and you smile when you finally see him again.

“What’re you doing here, kid?” he asks, sitting up slightly. He’s wearing nothing but his boxers, and you eye the muscles from his chest down to his abdomen, noticing the delicious layer of hair he has all over.

“Can’t sleep,” you take a step over the threshold, holding onto the door shyly.

Logan smiles, more to himself, “Was wondering when I’d see you again, bub.”

“Was waiting for you to come visit me,” you pout. You jut out your hip to one side, your tail curling upwards and peeking out behind your legs. You’re showing off. Last time he saw your tail, it was all tattered, but now it’s soft and bouncy again. You see Logan looking at it, smiling slightly, but he doesn’t compliment it like you hoped.

“We barely know each other. It’s nothing personal, kid. It was a standard mission. Anyone from our team could have got you first.” It stings that he doesn’t find your bond as special as you do, but you don’t mind if you have to do some convincing. He’s worth it.

“But we do know each other,” you close the door and make your way to his bed, “You saved me. I wouldn’t be alive without you. I just want to show you my appreciation.” You’re at the foot of his bed, crawling onto it on all fours. You’d never normally be this blunt but you can’t help yourself around him. Your need for him has taken over your entire being in the last two weeks. 

You watch him taking you in. Your movements are sensual and sleek – feline. You know he’s never been with someone like you, and you’re happy for him to take his time if he needs it. Perching on his bed, between his spread legs, you slowly unzip the hoodie of his that you’re still wearing.

His eyes follow the languid movement as you drag the zipper down, revealing your simple black top underneath. It clings to your skin in all the right places in the same way that your soft, tight, black shorts do.

“Looks good on you,” he nods towards the hoodie.

“Do you want me to keep it on?” You ask, but he shakes his head, smiling. 

“It’ll look better off.”

You unzip it fully, throwing it to the side of the bed. 

“Can I stay with you?” you lean over him. He’s about to open his mouth, and you have a feeling he’s going to tell you no.

“Please,” you cut him off.

“Alright, sweetheart,” he huffs, moving to give your ears a light scratch, “you can stay for a bit”. He’s intrigued enough to let you stay – you can hear it in his elevated heartbeat – and you don’t mind if curiosity is the only reason he’s keeping you with him for now. 

He paws at your fluffy ears, almost groping you, unsure how to treat you, but you haven’t been touched there in so long that it feels like heaven anyway.

“Who’s a good kitty?” he mocks as he gets the sweet spot behind your ear, but you don’t realise he’s teasing you, pushing your head further against his hand in bliss as you begin to purr. 

Logan isn’t sure how you’re making the noise, but it turns him on. He wants to hear more of it, “Well, don’t you sound pretty?” 

Your purring intensifies. You move down his body and settle over his legs, your head in his lap as his hand stays on your head. It’s then that Logan realises he’s already half-hard. The only reason he let you in was because he’s sexually intrigued by you, your cute demeanour and that fluffy tail somehow doing it for him. But he wasn’t planning on actually doing anything — not until now.

Your face is mere inches from his cock and he’s starting to ache to do something about it, getting harder. You’re still trying to find the most comfortable position as you rub your cheek across his lap like a little cat. You stop when you feel his erection.

“Are you hard?” you ask bluntly, eyes all wide. 

“I am, bub.”

“For me?” you purr quietly.

“All for you.” Logan tips his head to the side, waiting to see your reaction. He can tell that whatever you’re asking him next is taking you a bit more courage. He watches you gnaw on your lip all cutely.

“I’ve never seen a cock before…” you confess, and Logan stifles a laugh.

“Y’wanna?” He surprises himself when he says it. At first, he thought your affection was simply that of the saved towards her saviour, or familial maybe, but he’s not mad at this. 

Logan gets fully hard as you nod at him in such awe, your tail curling around his bare leg, and it’s even softer than it looks.

He pushes his boxers down just enough to pull out his cock, jerking himself off for just a few seconds to get some friction. You’re staring at it as you move your legs back, instinctively arching your back with your ass up. 

Your tail bobs behind you Logan can’t resist giving it a light tug, curling his finger around it. “Mmh,” you huff, pulling your tail away by instinct.

“Sorry, kitty,” he chuckles, “just wanted to feel it.” Your cheeks warm at his confession and you move your tail back in the direction of his hand so he can reach for it when he wants to. Your tail is your pride and you won’t let just anyone touch it – Logan’s the exception. He can gladly dominate you by tugging at your tail all day if he wants. 

He smiles as he touches your tail again, letting it glide through his fist from the bottom to the tip of your fur. “Such a pretty kitty,” he hums as he bites his lip. 

Hearing that he likes it pleases you more than you would’ve thought and you begin to purr again. You’re not exactly sure how to go down on a man, but you let your intuition guide you as you lower your face to press a wet kiss to the tip of Logan’s cock.

Suddenly, he’s pulling you back up by the scruff of your neck.

“Ah-ah. Manners, bub. You gotta ask first, you don’t know that?” Logan scolds.

His expression goes soft as you shake your head all sadly and apologetically, “‘S okay, kitty. I’ll teach you. Say please.”

“Please.”

“Please what?”

You look at him as you get back up on all fours, leaning close to his face. You want to kiss him so bad but you gather you’re not allowed to do that without asking either. 

“Please can I kiss you, daddy?” you ask.

Logan is surprised, not unpleasantly, at the word, “Where’d you get that from?” 

You shrug, and even that movement is fluid and smooth. “Just wanted to call you that. ‘S that okay?” You slur, head already clouded with pleasure and Logan.

He nods and places his hand back on your neck, pulling you towards him as your face reaches his in a searing kiss. He’s hungry for you, devouring you with his mouth and tongue and teeth immediately. His hand glides down your spine and to the side of your ass, grabbing you there. 

You purr against his lips as his other hand squeezes the flesh at your waist, and the vibration feels so good to him. You lower yourself against him so you’re chest to chest, and your belly rubs against his cock as some of his precum spills between you two, rubbing up against your skin and dripping onto his own abs.

Logan gently pulls you off, “Be a good girl and suck daddy’s dick now, alright?” You nod so adorably it makes his heart clench – you’re so eager to please him, all wide-eyed as you get between his legs, your ass up in the air.

On your way down, you give tiny licks to his skin; your tongue is all over his chest hair and his happy trail. Your tongue glides through his pubic hair, ignoring his throbbing cock, and you make your way to his thighs. He watches you lick through the dark hair there, and he realises what you’re doing. 

You’re acting like a cat, taking care of him. You’re bonding with him, and grooming him. He lets you do it some more, but it becomes increasingly difficult to ignore how hard he is, leaking precum. He slides a hand down to his dick, jerking off right next to your face.

“Mhh,” you pout, pushing his hand away with your head and giving him a cross look.

He smirks, “you gonna start sucking at some point then, baby?” It’s not that he doesn’t like you playing around but he’s getting desperate. He places a hand on your face to make you look at him.

“I don’t know how to.” Your cheeks are hot under his touch. 

Logan smiles, “Start with kisses. Or lick, like you’ve been doing.”

You nod and curl your tail around his knee, your hands to the sides of his hips. You press a wet kiss to the underside of his cock and Logan sighs in pleasure; you immediately want to hear more of it. You press quick kisses all over him, remembering what he said about using your tongue.

You begin to lick all over his dick, his balls too, until you’re drooling over him. But he’s stopped making pretty sounds and you’re not sure what you’re doing wrong. You hear a quiet chuckle from above you.

“Come up here,” Logan says. You sit up and straddle his waist. He takes your hand, bringing it to his mouth.

“Like this,” he tells you, taking one of your fingers between his lips. He wets it with his spit, sucking it into his mouth, tongue moving over your fingertip. You grin – you like the look of it. You like the way his cheeks hollow as he sucks on your finger, wishing your hands were as big as his.

As you move to push another finger past his lips, Logan takes your wrist. “Uh-uh. Your turn, kitty.” 

You pout but then feel his hard cock against your ass, your tail brushing it, and you get excited. 

“And none of those sharp teeth,” Logan tells you as you move down his body again. You bare your smile to him, letting your fangs retract. They’re a special part of you and you’re glad you could finally show them off to someone who deserves to see. Logan awards your little show with a grin. 

“Good girl.” Those words make you put your mouth on him immediately, swallowing him down your throat as deeply as you can. You pull away when you almost gag, heat spreading over your face, but Logan is unbothered.

You settle between his legs as you press a few more open-mouthed kisses to his cock with spit-slicked lips. You take the tip in your mouth, staying for a bit as you suck on it, spit dripping down his length and over your lips.

You start purring when you take him a little deeper, and Logan’s breath catches in his throat when you do, the vibration turning him on even more.

“Keep doing that,” he mumbles absent-mindedly, eyes on you but mind evidently gone. You smile around his cock, moving your mouth up and down as the spit begins to make a crude sound against your lips, but you like it. You’re feeling more and more of an urge to touch yourself between your legs, but you want to make Logan feel good first.

Your purring gets louder as you take him even deeper, and Logan lets out a sharp gasp. You pull your mouth off him, wondering if you’ve hurt him, sliding your tongue over your teeth to make sure the sharp fangs aren’t out.

Following Logan’s eyes, you see what you’ve done. Your claws have come out, and you’ve been scratching his thighs open. You feel tears prick your eyes as you bend down to lick over the wounds apologetically, wondering in awe as they heal up immediately.

“Don’t worry, just surprised me. You won’t hurt me.”

“Sorry, ‘s just how I show that I like you. Don’t wanna let you go”, you hang your head low in shame despite his words.

“It’s okay, kitty,” he lightly scratches at your ear, making you purr and forget all about hurting him, “Do your worst.”

You’re not sure if he’s teasing you. “Know they’re not as big as yours.”

Logan huffs, taking a hand away from you, pressing his elbow into the bed and his claws come shooting out. You only saw one of them briefly, when he saved you. They’re majestic up close and in all their glory, glinting against the low light. 

You reach out, “Pretty.” Logan smiles at your sparkling eyes, but retracts his claws before you can touch them.

“Don’t wanna hurt you, baby.”

You give him the meanest look you can muster for not letting you touch, sinking your own, much tinier, claws into his abs to hurt him. But Logan lets out a soft moan instead, and you marvel at the pleasure he takes in the pain, forgetting all about why you’re mad at him.

Your eyes light up when you realise he likes you scratching him open. It’s a dream come true – someone who likes the way you show affection. You bite your lip as you scratch over his abs, his hips, and his thighs, watching as the wounds close up just before you draw blood. You hook your tiny claws into the flesh of his thighs as you wrap your lips around his cock again.

Logan lets out a string of moans as you have your claws in him and your mouth on him. You begin to purr, and with the way his cock flexes in your mouth you know he’s close.

“Just a little more for me, can you do that, baby?” he gently nudges your head down some more, and with the praise coming from his lips you can definitely take him – you feel like you could do anything.

“Yeah, just like that.” Logan’s voice gets shaky as you take his cock deeper, spit running down to his balls as you take almost all of him in your warm, wet mouth. 

You swallow everything Logan gives you as he cums in your mouth, shooting strings of his warm load down your throat. You don’t stop until he’s gently pulling you off him, and you look up at him.

“Again,” you plead, eyes wide, taking in how his cock is still hard.

Logan chuckles, “Don’t get used to the idea of that. Most men can’t go more than once.” 

You look at him strangely – what do other men matter to you? Before you can ask, Logan manhandles you into a different position, and you don’t notice until then that you’ve been grinding your clothed pussy against his knee, and you whine at the loss of contact.

You’re on your knees as Logan gets up to fully remove his boxers, and you see the skin at his knee glistening from where you’ve soaked it. The sight makes your cheeks heat up but also makes you press your thighs together.

He’s standing in front of you like a god, and you put a hand on his thigh to suck his cock again. Before your mouth can reach him, he puts a gentle hand on your shoulder, “Your turn now, kitty.”

“Oh,” you say as he lies you on your back.

“Gonna play with you now. Can I take this off?” he’s holding the bottom of your top, and you nod as he pulls it off you. Logan gets on the bed again, taking in the sight of you half-naked. You’ve never felt so good about yourself. He looks as if he’s seen God herself.

“Look at you, kitty, so fucking pretty,” he whispers more to himself, touching and kissing you there as his knees sink into the mattress. You arch your back when he wraps his lips around your nipple, and the action makes your pussy rub up against him. He looks down between your thighs, pushing his mouth there.

You’re not wearing any underwear, so his face against your thin shorts makes you squirm. “Smell so good,” he breathes, rubbing his nose up against your clit. It makes you moan.

He begins to pull down your pants, stopping as they catch on your tail. The nurses cut a hole into the back of the material for it, and your cheeks glow when Logan carefully pulls your sensitive tail out of the way before he slides your shorts all the way down your legs, spreading them to get a look of you afterwards.

“Look at you, kitty. Prettiest kitty I’ve ever seen,” you miss his joke, placing your feet on Logan’s broad shoulders, as he says “Can I?”

You’re appalled that he even has to ask, pushing his head down between your legs. 

He begins to eat you like a man starved, moaning against your skin at the taste of your wet pussy. He doesn’t even tease you, licking through all your wetness, licking over your clit in circles.

Logan pushes two fingers in without any preparation, but you still feel too empty, grinding your hips against him. 

“I got you,” he promises, lapping up all of you, “Best thing I’ve ever tasted.” He grabs one of your thighs, holding it so that you don’t squeeze his ears any more. Your knees are still pressing against his temples, but he doesn’t mind them there. He can feel you tremble when he licks and sucks and when he curls his fingers.

Logan has you cumming on his tongue quickly, sucking on your clit until you’re seeing stars, whining for him to stop. He pulls his lips off you, sitting up to push his fingers into your mouth.

“You taste good, huh?” he smirks as you suck your own arousal off him, humming around his fingers in agreement. He slowly fucks his fingers into you again, bringing them up to his own lips. He moves his hand between your legs again, fingers going over the hair above your pussy.

“You’re so soft here, kitty,” he says, leaning down to nuzzle his cheek against your pubic hair, making you giggle.

You’re still wet, and he’s still hard, and you don’t want to be too direct but you want to know when he’s finally going to fuck you. You tell him “I’ve never done this before either,” hoping he’ll catch what you’re getting at.

He places a kiss above your pussy, into the soft hair, smirking up at you and kneeling between your spread thighs, “I know. I’ll go slow.”

“Don’t want you to go slow,” you mumble, watching his eyes darken a bit.

“Don’t say that to me. Y’don’t know what you’re saying.” 

You don’t reply, smiling to yourself. He is big – very big – you remind yourself, but you still want him to be rough with you if that’s what he needs. You want him to use you. But maybe you should wait before you tell him that.

Logan wraps a hand around his cock, fucking his fist for a few moments before he leans down to rub the tip against your clit. You mewl at the sensation, ready for more.

“You sure?” he asks, head already beginning to push in.

“Yeah,” you whimper, wrapping your arms around his neck to hold him close. Logan pushes himself halfway in, both of you moaning with pleasure. The stretch already stings, but you tell him you want more.

“So fucking tight for me, baby,” he grunts as he fucks into you deeper, bottoming out with an almost pathetic groan that makes you smile through the slight pain.

“You’re so big,” you moan, leaning your head back against his pillow.

“I know. Think you can take me?” he kisses up the side of your neck, hand sneaking between your bodies to play with your clit.

“Yes–yeah. I want you.”

“That’s a good kitty,” he whispers from above you, beginning to thrust into you slowly, rocking your whole body with his movement. He feels so big in your pussy, but you like the feeling of being stretched out for him. Even if it hurts, you want him to take what he needs.

It helps when your claws come out, scratching at his back to relieve some of the pain.

“Hurt me, baby. Hurt me as much as you need,” he moans into your ear, fucking into you at a bit of a rougher pace. You sink your claws into him, feeling how you draw tiny drops of blood from his big muscles, dragging your fingertips down his shoulders and over his big arms.

“That’s it, baby,” Logan moans against your mouth, kissing you sloppily, thrusts becoming messy, and you grunt in a mix of pain and pleasure that feels so good. He looks down at you, hips getting slower as he takes your tail in his hand.

“Does your tail hurt like this?” he asks, tugging at it lightly. You’re lying on your tail, technically, but it doesn’t hurt. You shake your head. Still, Logan tips your hips to the side a bit, lifting your thigh to fuck you sideways. But this way you can’t reach his back, and you don’t like not being able to squeeze around him with your thighs.

“Wanna sit on top,” you say, and he pulls away to look at you, unable to stop himself from smiling.

“You can’t take me like that yet, bub. Trust me.”

“M-mh,” you mumble, and with a bite to his lip Logan lifts his hands in defeat, slipping out of you and obeying you. He flips you around so that he’s on his back and you straddle him.

His dick looks bigger when you hold it in your hand, raising yourself to your knees to line him up with your pussy. Logan chuckles and you smile too, but you want to show him that you can take him.

You struggle to even get the angle right because you have to sit up so high, but when you’ve got the tip in your pussy, you just slowly lower yourself, hands leaning on Logan’s chest.

“Go slow, baby,” Logan says, suddenly gentle, seeing the pain on your features as he goes deeper. His fingers draw circles on your hips and on your ass, and he almost cums from the way you moan when he won’t fit in all the way in this position. He reaches out to rub at your fluffy ears, loving the way you lean into his touch, purring again.

“Sounds so pretty when you do that.” He’s less and less sure about the thing he said earlier, telling you not to get used to him, about you fucking other men. He’s not sure it’ll be relevant after all. He’s going to keep you all to himself.

“Hurts so bad,” you moan, pussy straining around him.

“Then stop. Y’don’t have to,” Logan coos, pulling you up by your hips but you take his hands off you.

“Don’t wanna stop. Wanna cum.” You grind your hips against Logan’s, his cock pulsing inside you. It drives him fucking crazy seeing you struggling to take him, fucking yourself stupid in his lap nevertheless.

He rubs his thumb over your clit, in circles to match the movement of your hips on him.

“Lo–Logan,” you moan, hands back on his chest as you start to fuck him again, your claws coming out against his chest to scratch him there, and he revels in it.

“Yeah, that’s it, kitty. Don’t stop,” he keeps playing with your clit, starting to become breathless himself as your pussy squeezes around his cock.

You cum with a whimper so animalistic it sets off his own orgasm, pulsing his cum into your pussy that clenches around him hard. Logan’s hand on your hip helps you grind on him as the pleasure spreads through your body and he’s grabbing at your flesh.

You come down from your highs together, a fucked out smile on your lips as you bend down to kiss Logan. He pulls you off his cock, not wanting you to hurt any more, but from the way you kiss him back lazily, hurt is the last thing you are.

“Did such a good job for me,” Logan tells you, holding onto your face, “Didn’t mean to hurt you.”

You shake your head, “Didn’t mind it,” and you kiss him again, liking the way he devours you like a hungry animal every time his lips are on you.

As he’s kissing you fervently, with tongue and spit, you let your fangs come out, nicking his bottom lip carefully. He hisses into your mouth, and you draw two drops of blood – one for each tooth – before the wounds heal shut.

Logan grins, “Feisty kitty,” he squeezes you at the waist, making you giggle.

“See, you like pain and I like it too.”

Logan hums at your words, hand moving up to play with one of your ears. You move to lie down on your side, Logan turning to face you. You watch him.

“Can I stay?” you ask shyly, quietly, and he doesn’t understand the man he was only an hour ago. How could he not want you entirely? He hates that he made you feel unsure for even a second.

“Of course, bub. You’re staying with me from now on.” You purr at his words, cuddling into him. 

He puts his arm around you, holding you close as you begin to lick all over his face. He giggles as you make your way over his beard and his neck too, grooming him like a kitty. Your claws hook into the muscle of his arm and, as much as he enjoyed it during sex, this is definitely something he still has to get used to, gasping at the contact. The way you purr louder makes it more than worth it.

You’re pawing at his hair, smoothing it back into place from where you’ve messed it up. Logan closes his eyes from how good it feels. Suddenly, he hears you giggle.

“Your hair is kind of like kitty ears,” you grin.

He deadpans. “Don’t ever say that again.”

Your fluffy tail bounces up and sways a bit as you giggle mischievously. You pretend to zip your mouth shut but he knows he’s never hearing the end of that. Maybe he doesn’t even mind it coming from you.

“So, did you escape just to come see me or d’you get permission?” He asks, remembering how you’re probably not even supposed to be here. 

You panic for a second, beginning to sit up, but Logan holds you down, “I won’t tell anyone you’re here, kitty. Told you you’re staying with me. Would just be good to know if you’re making me break the rules.”

The way you smile at him sheepishly tells him everything he needs to know. He presses another kiss to your adorable face.

“You coulda told them you’re leaving. I’m sure they’ll be looking for you, bub,” he tells you. You turn around so that you’re spooning, with him at your back and your tail wrapped around his thigh.

“Hmpfh, don’t care,” you begin to purr, closing your eyes, “Just wanna be with my daddy.”

Logan wants the same. 

You don’t stop purring as you drift off to sleep, held safely in Logan’s arms.

-

P.S. Logan thinks that hot readers leave a reblog and a comment and let the writer know what they enjoyed about the fic <333 🫣🤭

[finelinefae]

the final [tennisplayer!harry x tennisplayer!y/n]

synopsis: y/n and harry reach the final in the academy slam

word count: 12.2k

contains: fluff, enemies to lovers, slow burn, tennis rivals, smut (oral f-receiving, first time for h and yn, size kink, mostly just soft), travel anxiety, brief medical talk

a/n: extremely sorry for the wait but i hope this is worth it. thank you for being here and reading this little series. it means the world and I'm obsessed with all of u <33

this is the final part of the game, read part 3 here

. . .

In any relationship, Y/N had always believed she was the dominant, reliable, independent partner. In all of her friendships, family dynamics and even teamwork, the people around her looked to her for something that sometimes she couldn’t even give. Y/N was constantly pulling pieces of herself apart to give to those around her and at the end of the day she found herself with nothing left for herself.  She was constantly burnt out, running on little energy to make it through to the end of the week. 

But with Harry, her whole world felt like a sanctuary, a blue sky hidden from everybody else by grey clouds. 

When she thought she knew all there was to know about herself, she was learning so much more through her relationship. 

She learnt that it was important to share things, that just because Harry could read her face better than most people doesn’t mean he could read her mind. She hadn’t realised how closed off she was about her problems until Harry had found her panicking outside her classroom before an exam. It was that moment when he told her he needed her to communicate these things so he could help her in any way he could. 

She learnt to accept that her love language was physical touch. She couldn’t keep her hands off of her boyfriend. No matter what they were doing or where they were standing, she was desperate to touch Harry in some way and he was obsessed with it. He loved how much she wanted him to hold her and how often she’d gravitate towards him to put her hand on his arm or hook their pinkies together. It was probably the reason why her lips were constantly chapped because she was always desperate to kiss him whenever they were near each other. Harry had told her once that our love languages developed from what we didn’t receive so much of as children, which made sense because Y/N couldn’t remember the first or last time her parents had held her. 

She learned that arguments were healthy, even when they didn't feel like it in the moment. Just because Harry was her boyfriend and their feelings for each other were strong, they still ended up bickering over little things. It usually happened when one of them was having a bad day; they were both people who felt things very strongly, and sometimes that clashed. But they made a promise that, no matter what they were arguing about, big or small, they'd never go to bed angry with each other.

The biggest lesson Y/N was learning was something that she had yet to come to terms with. Having feelings for somebody was already a new thing for her, especially feelings as strong as the ones she had for Harry. She’d never been so attached to somebody in her whole life.  Sometimes when she looked at him she felt like her heart was going to explode from how much it ached to be right by him. Y/N had always believed that she couldn’t feel much more than what she felt already, that this was how good it would get- and she was okay with that. But with every passing day, Y/N found herself floating higher and higher above ground as her heart began to inflate with such an intense emotion. Every morning, she felt like she was levitating right out of bed at the thought of seeing Harry. 

It wasn’t until one particular day that she realised she was in love with her boyfriend. 

She had woken up before him for once. Harry had always been an early bird, and so was she before him, but she loved staying in bed with him, basking in his warmth as he cradled her to him like he was cocooning her from the rest of the world and keeping her to himself for those brief few hours in the early morning. 

She was going to wake him up to get ready for school but she stopped herself. Y/N had seen many versions of Harry her entire life but this was the first time when she looked at him and saw the person who had carved a nook into her heart for himself looking so peaceful and relaxed. She’d never really thought too hard into it before, willing to let herself fall into this relationship and see where she ended up, but that morning when she looked at him - really looked at him- she realised there was only one person in this entire world who could make her feel like she was still dreaming and that was the person she loved. 

Of course, she hadn’t told him that. Never. Y/N felt genuine fear at the thought of having to tell him how she felt because everything she had ever truly loved she’d had to either work for or it had never loved her back as much. Surely loving someone as much as she loved Harry couldn’t be this easy. 

“Hey,” Sarah beamed, leaning against the lockers as Y/N replaced her books for her next classes. 

“Hey,” Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed as she glanced at her shirt, “What are you wearing?”

“Do you like them?” Sarah grinned, proudly. 

It was a white t-shirt with a tennis racket and a cut out of Y/N’s head plastered onto a tennis ball. The words ‘Y/N 4 court queen’ were written in red. 

“Please tell me you only got one of these?” Y/N begged, feeling embarrassed.

“Well they’re prototypes so there’s only four,” Sarah explained and as she did Mitch walked towards them wearing the exact same shirt. 

He put a hand around Sarah’s shoulders and kissed the side of her head before looking at Y/N, “How do you like the shirts? Me and Sarah spent all week designing them?”

“You designed these together? Aren’t you meant to be like horny teenagers or something?” Y/N tried not to laugh at their matching shirts as they stood side by side. 

“We can be both,” Mitch shrugs. 

“Who else is wearing these?” A throat cleared from behind them and Y/N turned around to find her boyfriend wearing his white school shirt unbuttoned to reveal the same t-shirt underneath. 

“Hi baby,” Harry grinned, walking towards her and kissing her lips. Y/N’s hands went to his waist as he pushed her up against the lockers. 

“And I thought we were bad,” Mitch said, “C’mon babe, I’ve got a few ideas for some more items we could sell.” 

Harry pulled away as Mitch and Sarah walked away. Y/N looked up at him as he loomed over her, he was just so goddamn tall. “Missed you,” He murmured, kissing her quickly. 

“You saw me this morning,” Y/N giggled.

“Hmmm,” He hooked his finger around her necklace and pulled her closer, “Do y’ like my shirt?” 

Y/N laughed, “I can’t believe you actually wore it.”

“Anything to support my girlfriend,” He winks. She’d never get tired of hearing him call her that. “Did you hear anything about the Academy?”

Y/N shook her head. After winning against Astrid, she was now onto the final where she would play Courtney Avalon the only girl in the competition who had been picked to compete in a Junior Slam at fourteen. Y/N wondered who thought it fair for her to compete but she wouldn’t let it ruin her chances of winning, she’d just train even harder than she already was. 

Unlike the previous games, the final wouldn’t be hosted at one of the academies instead it would be hosted elsewhere at a tennis club where professionals would play. There was no way of knowing where they’d be going, it could be in a different country for all they knew, but the final was a little under a month away and she still hadn’t heard anything about it. 

“S okay,” Harry knew she was overthinking the situation as he traced his thumb over her pulse the way he always did when she was nervous about something, “We just train the way we always have,”

“Do you think I’ll win?” Y/N asked.

“I know you will,” Harry replied. 

That same afternoon, Y/N was sitting in the library after school to finish her English essay on her computer when a notification appeared in her email. Her heartbeat hastened as she clicked on the email with ‘Academy Slam Final Location’ written in big bold letters as the subject headline. 

She clicked on it and her eyes flicked through the long-winded introduction before they landed on the location. 

Paris, France. 

She was going to Paris. 

With Harry. 

She tried to keep her excitement at bay as she threw all her belongings into her backpack and slung it over her shoulder. She made a quick exit out of the library and ran towards the parking lot where she knew Harry would be. 

Her eyes landed on him and she couldn’t help but laugh before running over to him and leaping into his open arms. “Paris,” She said and his eyes lit up. 

“We’re going to Paris?” Harry asked, seeking confirmation. 

Y/N nodded, “The same place they play the French Open.”

Realisation dawned on both of their faces as they understood the significance of this moment. Y/N would be playing at the same club where Harry was supposed to play before his injury. She waited to see his reaction, and a small grin formed on his face before he leaned in to kiss her.

“You are going to win this,” He says like a promise. 

She nods, the weight of the moment sinking in deeper. The pressure now felt even greater than before, driven by a desire to win not just for herself, but for Harry too. 

. . . 

Y/N sat on the bonnet of her boyfriend’s Audi with her boyfriend standing between her dangling legs as they made out, “Are you actually going to teach me anything?” Y/N laughed, pushing him away. 

Harry pretended to check the invisible watch on his wrist before shrugging, “We have time,” He leaned in to kiss her again but she playfully pushed his face away and slid off the bonnet. 

They walked hand in hand to the court where Y/N put her bag down on the ground and pulled out her racket. Her eyes caught sight of Harry taking a bucket of tennis balls out of the storage shed. He looked particularly cosy today in his navy sweater and white shorts he was wearing, his hair was a little dishevelled mainly due to the fact that she had run her fingers through them for the past thirty minutes. 

“Okay, so should we do a few drills?” Harry posed the question.

Y/N shook her head, “I wanna try something different today,” Harry frowned as she passed him a racket, “I want to play against you.”

She could tell Harry seemed unsettled as soon as the words left her mouth, “Y/N, you already know about my injury,”

“Just a little back and forth, if it hurts too much we can stop straight away,” She tried, hoping he would say yes. 

Harry took one look at his girlfriend, seeing the pleading look on her face. Even though he knew she wasn’t forcing him, he couldn’t find it in himself to say no. “Fine, one game.”

Y/N squealed and ran to the end of the court she always played on, getting into position. She watched as Harry rolled his ankles and bounced up and down to get used to the feeling of his feet on the court. He took a tennis ball out of his pocket and bounced it on the ground. 

With a playful chuckle, Harry tossed the ball into the air and served. Y/N lunged for it, returning it with a swift swing of her racket. The rally began, and each shot was met with cheers and laughter from them both.

Despite Harry's injury, he moved across the court with surprising agility, his competitive spirit shining through. Y/N knew he was at a disadvantage but still, she was in awe of how quickly he responded to her hits. Every time Harry would run for the ball, she’d find herself distracted by the muscles in his calves and thighs and the concentration on his face when the ball would go to her end of the court. 

In the end, Y/N came out on top with one score above Harry’s when they decided on the last round as Harry could tell the pain was beginning to stir in his leg. She walked over to him and put out his hand to shake his, “Great game,”

Harry rolled his eyes, taking her hand and pulling her into him, “You’re too pretty, you distracted me.”

“I’ve heard that one too many times before,” Y/N smirked.

“From who?” Harry frowned.

“Oh just people,” She began to walk away but Harry quickly ran up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and spinning her around. 

“Harry,” Y/N laughed, loudly, both of them ignoring the watchful eyes of passing students leaving school late. 

He placed her back down on the ground and she looked up at him again, biting her lip, “Get back to those drills,” He shook his head. 

“Yes sir,” She saluted but Harry stilled.

“I didn’t know you were into that,” 

“What?” Y/N frowned before realising, “Ew don’t be so gross Harry,” She hit him on the arm and stormed away. 

“What else am I supposed to think?” Harry threw his arms up in the air, biting back a laugh. She turned around and threw a tennis ball at him before grabbing another one and doing the same again, “Oh c’mon baby, I can live out your coach/student fantasies if that’s what you're asking,”

“You’re an animal!” She hissed.

Harry laughed and jogged towards her, kissing her quickly and running through their usual training. 

. . .

Two weeks had passed until Y/N and Harry were finally on their way to Paris. Mitch and Sarah had dropped them off at the airport in the early hours of the morning with sleep still in their eyes. Y/N would be lying to herself if she said she wasn’t nervous about playing without her best friend cheering for her in the stands. But Sarah promised she would watch every second of the live stream from their dorm room and cheer her on from there. 

She’d also tried to call and text her parents to tell them she had made it to the final and she’d be going to Paris, inviting them to come along even though she already knew they would decide not to. She hadn’t spoken to them since the dinner and even though she was the happiest she’d ever been, part of her ached, wishing her parents cared enough to see her that way. 

Harry stood beside her as they waited in line to board the aeroplane. They had originally booked economy flights but Harry was insistent they upgrade even though the flight was only an hour long. 

They were both dressed rather comfortably for the flight. It was Y/N’s first time wearing a piece of his clothing, a brown knitted sweatshirt he offered her to wear this morning. She couldn’t deny the rush of excitement she felt when he tugged it over her head and kissed her forehead, “Pretty,” He said and smiled. 

But despite their comfy attire, Y/N couldn’t seem to stop fiddling with Harry’s fingers as they stood in line. She was nervous, biting the inside of her cheek and trying to ignore the sounds of the planes taking off outside. It was her first time flying and even though she was excited about going away to Paris, she hadn’t considered the prospect of flying and how nerve-wracking it would be. 

“Harry,” Y/N tugged on his sleeve, looking up at him. He was holding both of their carry-ons, his black bag in his hand and her duffle on his shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, sensing her nerves. 

“Will we be okay?” She blushes, feeling embarrassed at her question, “On the plane I mean?”

Harry’s eyes soften, “Of course,” He assures, “It’s the safest way to travel.”

“Okay,” She nods, before saying his name again, “Harry?”

“Yes baby?” 

“You promise we’ll be okay?”

He smiles, putting their bags on the floor and taking both of her hands in his. He squeezes her fingers when he feels how cold they are, “Promise, promise.” 

“Okay well if you’re lying I’ll probably never speak to you again.” 

Harry chuckles, “I mean if I’m lying and the plan crashes then that’s probably true.”

Y/N frowns, “Don’t talk about crashing,” 

“What? You bought it up.”

When they finally board the plane, Y/N immediately feels claustrophobic when she realises how small it is, “They’re loading us into a sardine can,” She mutters to herself and hears Harry laugh as he walks in front of her. 

They finally reach their seats with Y/N right by the window and Harry in the seat next to her. Harry places their bags under the seats in front and moves to buckle his belt. “Harry?” Y/N says his name again. He glances at her and sees how pale her face is, “I’m really nervous.”

He felt his heart clench, it wasn’t often that Y/N admitted to feeling nervous or afraid of something. Hearing the shake in her voice made him consider getting off the plane and taking her back home again. 

“Hey,” Harry cupped the side of her cheek, “Y’ got nothing to be afraid of sweet girl, everything’s gonna be fine. Might feel a little strange when the plane takes off but we’re safe and I’m right here with you.”

“I don’t know about this Harry,” Her eyes dart around and he knows she’s getting into a panic the more she thinks about it too much.

“Y/N,” Harry says her name gently, “Look at me baby,” His thumb rubs the skin under her eye and her eyes dart to him, “Can you feel this?” He gently wraps his fingers around her wrist and moves her hand to wrap around his own wrist until the pads of her fingers find his pulse. 

Y/N nods, her eyes glistening, “Can you feel that?” He hopes the feel of his pulse will calm her down, “That’s it, just breathe and calm down everything’s gonna be fine.”

“It’s going to be fine,” She echoes his words as though trying to inscribe them into her own mind. 

“M right here,” He comforts her, “You think I’d let anything happen to you after I just got you?”

Y/N smiles at that, “No,” She whispers, “You’re too stubborn.”

Harry grins, “Only when it comes to you.”

Y/N’s nerves were overwhelming as the plane began to move. She glanced out the window, watching the ground blur as they gained speed. Harry noticed her unease and reached for her hand, squeezing it reassuringly.

“What the fuck!” Y/N blurted when the plane lifted off the ground, loud enough for everyone to hear, “This is so not normal.”

Harry snorted a laugh, “Y’ doing just fine baby,” He rubbed soothing circles on the back of her hand.

Y/N’s eyes squeezed shut as the plane tilted, a whimper escaping past her lips when she took one peek out the window to see the clouds in the sky. “Isn’t it pretty?” Harry asked, ignoring how tightly she was squeezing his fingers until the point of turning blue.

“It’s a lot prettier with my feet on the ground,” Y/N responds, refusing to relax until the plane landed.

. . .

Y/N was in awe as they stood in the hotel lobby of the hotel they would be staying in for the next week or so. Harry had insisted he be in charge of choosing where they were staying as he had been to Paris plenty of times and knew all the best spots. Y/N didn’t argue with him, it gave her one less thing to stress about and she was never any good at making decisions anyway. 

The receptionist handed him two key cards and Harry rolled both of their suitcases into the elevator as Y/N followed closely behind. “Are our rooms next to each other?” Y/N wondered, admiring the lights in the elevator as they went up to the seventh floor. 

Harry’s eyes widened for a second but then they twinkled with mischief. She noticed him biting the inside of his cheek like he was trying not to laugh. “Is that what you want two rooms?” He asked and Y/N’s cheeks flushed. 

“W-well I d-didn’t want to assume,” She stuttered, feeling embarrassed. 

Harry handed her both room keys, “Room 764,” He motioned her out of the elevator when it reached their floor and she walked ahead, scanning the numbers on the doors as she did.

Eventually, she got to room 764 and stopped. Harry was still rounding the corner with both of their suitcases so she waved the key over the scanner and saw the light turn green but instead of opening the door, she waited for it to lock again. Switching to the other key, she repeated the action of waving it over the lock only to see it flash green again. 

This time she did walk through the door, putting both their bags on the ground as soon as she stepped inside. Her mouth fell open when she saw the room they’d be staying in. 

Y/N had stayed in fancy hotels before thanks to her parents but this was something she had never seen before in her life. It had a high ceiling and a chandelier hanging in the middle. White curtains hung from the windows with a view of Paris right outside their window. She walked into the bathroom to see marble countertops and a deep bathtub with a separate glass-enclosed shower. 

After taking everything in, she walked back into the bedroom where her eyes landed on the king-sized bed - one bed for two people. 

The sight of it made Y/N’s mouth dry. It was her first time sharing a space with any boy, let alone her boyfriend, for longer than one night. Although she’d been spending a lot of time together, this was the first time Y/N would be sleeping beside him, waking up next to him, and getting ready with him. In fact, this whole trip they were all each other had. 

“Do you like it?” Harry came up behind her and squeezed her shoulders, pressing a kiss to the side of her neck. 

Y/N spun round and clung to him, “Thank you,” She whispered, hoping he couldn’t feel the nerves radiating from her. 

“I was thinking we go out and get something to eat and then maybe walk by the river. We’ll be training for the next few days so,” She sighed, longing to just stay in the room with him holding her the entire time. 

“I’d like that,” She sighs, eyes closing. 

Harry chuckles lowly, she feels the vibrations from his chest, “Y sure?” 

“Mhm,” 

Harry smiles even though she can’t see, “Or we can order room service and stay here?”

Y/N seems to melt against him as he rubs circles on her back, “I like that idea a lot more.”

She was pretty sure Harry had ordered everything off the menu in the time it took her to unpack her suitcase. She smiled to herself when she saw their shoes side by side at the door when she went to put her trainers beside them. 

It wasn’t long before hours passed and Y/N was wrapped up in a plush, white bathrobe with Harry’s shirt and her pyjama shirt on underneath. A cart with empty plates of what once was full of an array of desserts and sides was cast off to one side as Y/N lay on top of Harry with a full belly. The TV played lowly in the back, Harry's hands playing with the ends of her long, loose hair. The sky had turned dark with the lights of Paris lighting the city. 

“Y’ sleepy baby?” Harry murmured, cupping her cheek and lifting her head like she was a little kitten so he could see her face. 

Y/N hummed, nuzzling her cheek against his hand and curling into his side. Her hand slid up his torso to fiddle with the cross necklace around her neck. “Go to sleep,” He kisses the top of her head, “Got a long day tomorrow.” 

Tomorrow they’d be off to the tennis club to train for the final at the end of the week. Harry had picked a hotel that was a ten-minute drive away just in case they ended up spending long hours into the night working on Y/N’s technique like they did when they were at Crestwood. 

Y/N’s eyes fluttered shut as Harry rubbed soothing circles on her hip to try and lull her to sleep. The outside world seemed irrelevant in that moment, he felt as though he could lay there forever in this comforting bubble they had created together. 

“Goodnight Harry,” Y/N mumbled, clutching his t-shirt. 

“Goodnight baby,” He whispered, feeling the happiest he had ever been.

. . .

“Somebody pinch me, I feel like I’m dreaming,” Y/N gaped as they walked through the tennis club. She felt Harry pinch the skin above her elbow, “Not literally,” She huffed. 

After a blissful night's sleep, Y/N awoke to her face buried in the crook of Harry’s neck as both of his arms held her tightly to him throughout the night. Sleep had always been Y/N’s worst enemy but she genuinely considered calling off today and just laying there with him. 

They booked a cab before getting ready which would take them to the tennis club. They had planned a morning session of training so they could spend the remainder of the afternoon exploring Paris properly this time instead of looking out the window of the back of a taxi or from their hotel room where they had spent yesterday afternoon lounging around. 

Harry smirked, “You haven’t even seen the best part yet,” He leads her to a big glass window in the lobby. 

Y/N immediately gasps, pressing her nose against the glass wanting it to disappear so she could walk straight through it and across to the Roland Garros which just so happened to be right next door. 

“I’m going to be there one day Harry,” Y/N says with the upmost determination in her voice. 

Harry nods in agreement, “You will,” He says and that makes her believe it even more. 

They walk hand in hand to the courts, Y/N in a white tennis dress and matching visor and Harry wearing a white polo shirt and white shorts. They were both wearing black sunglasses to cover their eyes, Harry snaked his arm around her shoulders, Y/N’s fingers automatically threading through his, as they walked outside. 

They seemed to pause at the same time when they saw one of the courts already occupied. The sound of the ball speeding through the air and hitting the racket of the girl running to hit it in time broke through the air. 

Y/N watched as the girl moved with such agility and force, meeting every hit made by her coach with her own. It was like nothing she had ever seen before, no one she had ever played against. 

With one final hit across, the ball landed somewhere past her opponent and the game ended. The girl grabbed a towel and wiped it across her forehead, smiling as she took a waterbottle from the cooler. Her head raised, Y/N’s eyes casting away in hopes she wouldn’t come over but it was too late and she was already walking towards them. 

Harry gave Y/N’s hand a gentle squeeze as if to say "be nice," already familiar with her temper. However, she had put up a guard, uncertain whether to trust this girl or not.

“Hi,” She said, “I’m Courtney,” She held a hand out to which Y/N slowly responded, “You must be Y/N, I’ve been watching your games. You’re good.”

Y/N felt her jaw tick at the tone she used in trying to compliment her like she didn’t think she was a good player at all but she was trying to be nice about it. 

“Thank you,” Y/N decided to not act out and instead remained civil.

Courtney flashed a pearly white grin, “Yes well my coach thought this whole Academy competition would be good training for the Junior Slam next year. It’s not often something I would participate in but no one can deny the glory of winning something no matter how easy it is.”

Y/N forced a smile, “You’re right, it seems every game just gets easier and easier. I’m sure this next one will be a walk in the park.”

Courtney smirked, her eyes drifting up to see Harry, “Harry,” She acknowledged, “I haven’t seen you since your injury? How is it?”

“Good,” Harry nodded, “Besides the fact I can’t play anymore, I’d say it’s going pretty well.” 

Courtney’s smirk deepens, “Is that why you’re doing this? Since you can’t play you’ve got a little pitbull to carry the torch for you.”

Y/N’s fists clenched, her nails digging into her palms, “You know, I’ve been watching you too Courtney.”

Courtney’s expression turned smug as she crossed her arms, “Oh really?”

Y/N nodded, her eyes narrowing as she looked at her nose like she was inspecting it, “Your nose is looking a little crooked after last season. My mother knows a doctor who can fix that if you want their number?”

Courtney scowled and spun on her heel to storm away from them after being reminded of her embarrassing moment from last season where she hit herself in the face with her tennis racket and broke her nose. 

Harry chuckled from beside her, “I’m sorry, I know I’m not meant to but she pissed me off when she started talking about your injury like that.”

“It’s okay, if I didn’t think you had it covered I would have said something myself.” Harry began to walk to their side of the courts, “Now c’mon my little pitbull, let’s get to work.” 

Y/N scowled at his choice of words but followed him anyway. 

. . .

Throughout the entire week whenever they weren’t training - which was less often than they had hoped for but also the reason they were here in the first place - Y/N and Harry spent their evenings exploring the city. 

Y/N was thankful Harry had been to Paris plenty of times before, enough to show her around and take her to some of his favourite spots. 

Together they went to Harry’s favourite cafe each morning to pick up croissants and pastries to eat outside on the little tables and chairs. They visited the Eiffel Tower where they attempted to take photographs of each other holding it in the palms of their hands. They walked over to the Louvre where Harry paid for them to have a private tour in the evening and they would spend most of their evenings walking hand in hand as they strolled along the Seine. 

This must be what being a kid feels like. Y/N thought to herself as Harry lay in between her legs as they sat on the grass right in front of the Eiffel Tower. He was reading a book he had bought from a small, indie bookstore they had come across as they walked through the streets. 

Everything in her life had always been meticulously planned or she had to work hard for it, even at the age of eighteen. Both Y/N and Harry had been made to grow up quickly because their parents had raised them that way but together it felt like they had regressed back into their simplest forms. Life felt easy and colourful and magical. Each day, Y/N felt like her heart was shedding hardened skin and was slowly turning into this beautiful ball of light that weighed hardly anything inside of her chest. 

She paused her train of thought when she felt Harry’s lips press a kiss to her arm, “Let’s go out to dinner tonight,” He murmured. 

Tomorrow was the final and Y/N had been a nervous wreck all day hence why they had attempted to do things that might help her relax. Harry had woken her up with breakfast already carried in by one of the housekeepers and had offered to take her to the spa in the hotel but Y/N was desperate to escape the indoors and go outside so they ended up walking through the streets and stumbling into different shops on multiple street corners. Harry had even bought a baguette to put in his tote bag that they had been nibbling on all day. 

“I don’t know if I can handle eating right now,” Y/N admitted, the nerves getting the best of her. 

Harry shifted and turned around so he was lying on his stomach, his chin resting on her belly, “You’ll regret it if you don’t eat baby,” He kissed her exposed stomach from where her shirt had risen, “Even if it’s just a little something, y’ can’t go to bed hungry.”

Y/N knew he was right which is how they ended up in one of the fanciest restaurants Harry could have possibly picked from the many Paris had to offer with two plates of pasta and a shared basket of garlic bread between them. 

At one point, midway through making her laugh, Harry pulled out his phone to quickly take her picture. Y/N's cheeks tinged pink as she asked, "What did you do that for?"

Harry bit back a grin, “Because you’re my girlfriend and sometimes I take photos of you to make sure this is real,” Y/N rolled her eyes, “What? Do you want to see the whole album I’ve made for you too?”

“A whole album? Ew weirdo,” She teased. 

“Not a weirdo, ‘m just obsessed with you,” He says, “Wait until you’ve seen all the playlists I’ve made over the years I’ve been pining for you behind closed doors.” 

Y/N’s lips part, “You’re lying,”

“I’m not, I swear,” Harry chuckles, “Remember that box of chocolates you found in your cubby in fifth year on Valentine’s Day?”

“That was not you,” Y/N refused to believe it, “Sarah and I sat in the park after school eating them on the swings after she broke up with Byron.”  

“It was,” Harry nodded, his cheeks turning rosy but he carried on, “The day you asked me to teach you to play tennis I felt like I was floating on a cloud at the big old age of eight.”

“But you said no,” 

“Yeah because I figured you’d never leave me alone until I did and low and behold here we are today.” He says like he’s been planning this exact moment in time all his teenage life. 

“Ah so you’ve been scheming ever since,” Y/N joked. 

Harry shrugged, “I may have put things into motion but I think you were always meant to be a part of my life, Y/N.”

Y/N’s heart warmed like he was holding a candle beneath it, “I don’t think I remember anything good that you weren’t a part of.” 

He reached for her hand across the table and kissed the inside of her wrist, “You are my good.”

. . .

Harry leaned against the doorframe of the hotel bathroom as he brushed his teeth whilst Y/N lay on the bed in just a towel and underwear having just finished showering. Both their gazes were fixed on the television with re-runs of previous tennis matches playing with the volume down. 

Harry’s eyes softened when they looked at Y/N who watched the TV with so much awe on her face. He felt a sense of pride wash over him for both his girlfriend and for himself. After his injury, he thought himself damned and that nothing would give him the rush of playing tennis against big names like he did before but now he had Y/N and life before today seemed non-existent - maybe he hadn’t really been living at all.

He spat out his toothpaste and turned the bathroom light off. He stopped in the doorway in just his boxers when Y/N switched the TV off and there was nothing but the soft, warm glow of the lamp lighting the room. 

Her eyes looked up at him, vulnerability shining from them, “If I lose tomorrow will you still look at me the same?” She asked.

Harry frowned, “What do you mean?”

She sighed heavily, sitting up and pulling the towel closer to her to hide her naked chest, “Will you still like me?”

Harry’s eyes softened. It wasn’t often she shared such a vulnerable side with people so whenever he got a glimpse of it, he felt himself spiralling out of control like he was completely at her mercy, “No,” He starts and walks towards her squatting down before the bed and reaching a hand out to hold her cheek, his thumb smoothing over her cheekbones, “But I’ll love you a little harder than I do right now,”

A breath escaped from Y/N’s lips as they parted, her heart pounding, “What?” She breathed. 

Harry’s lips curved, “I love you.” 

She still couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing, “You do?”

Harry said nothing other than a small nod as he waited for her to respond, “I love you too,” She whispered, her eyes glistening, “More than anything in this world.”

Harry didn’t need to hear anything else as he surged forward to kiss her, his bottom lip sliding between hers. Y/N held his face in her hands as she kissed him as hard as she could whilst he crawled onto the bed. 

She fell back, feeling the soft sheets beneath her as Harry held himself up above her. The towel around her had loosened her pulse racing as she realised what was happening. “We don’t have to-” Harry started but Y/N kissed him quickly to shut him up.

“I want to,” She murmured against his lips. 

Harry nodded, his curls falling around his face as his cheeks tinged pink, “I-I can’t promise I’ll be good,” Y/N immediately shook her head, pushing his curls back and looking him straight in the eye.

“I love you, Harry,” She saw the way his eyes twinkled as she spoke those words, “Whatever we do will be perfect because it’s with you and nobody else. Just us.”

Harry smiles, “The way it’s always been. You and me,”

Y/N mirrors his smile before kissing him again, running her hands up and down his back with nothing but the sound of their lips connecting and their heavy exhales filling the silence of the room. 

As Harry kissed down her neck, Y/N felt her nerves escalating as an idea formed in her mind. The towel around her was the only barrier preventing their skin from touching, and she yearned to feel the warmth of his bare chest against hers. 

Before getting lost in a spiral of self-doubt, Y/N loosened her grip on the towel. Harry paused his assault on her neck and they both froze, “Holy shit,” Harry whispered maybe to himelf but she wasn’t quite sure, “Okay give me a second,” His eyes squeezed shut and Y/N waited. 

Suddenly, Harry’s head glimpsed down at her naked form lying beneath him. The only piece of fabric left on her was a pair of red, lace panties, “Fuck,” Harry cursed, “This isn’t real, pinch me so I can wake up,” 

“Harry,” Y/N laughed.

“I’m sorry baby but you’re just gonna have to give me a moment because- Holy shit.” He exclaimed, “This is way better than I imagined,” He muttered, loud enough for her to hear.

Harry was in awe of the girl that lay beneath him, every curve of her body and inch of her soft skin looked as thought it was sculpted by tender hands. His hands gripped the bottoms of her thighs and he felt the hard muscle from months and months of playing tennis and yet, despite all that, her skin was still so damn soft. 

Harry couldn’t think up enough words to praise the temple that was her body so he sealed his lips with hers, his tongue darting out filled with lust and need. His fingers slid up her thigh to grip her ass and when his hips rolled against hers she felt him - all of him. 

Y/N let out a moan as he kissed down her body, he pulled her into him until her breasts were pressed against his chest. Her arms looped around his neck, her fingers playing with the curls at the nape of his neck. 

Y/N hummed, her eyes fluttering shut, as Harry kissed and touched every inch of skin. She felt like all the heavy parts of her were being taken out of her body and only her heart remained. He cupped her breasts in his hand and squeezed, her nipples hardening despite the warmth of his touch.  She felt like dough, fluffy and light, and no matter what he did to her they would somehow mould together perfectly. 

She felt Harry’s thumb hook the waistband of her panties when he kissed the inside of her thigh, “Harry,” Y/N gasped. It seemed to be the only word she had left inside of her empty head. 

“Do you want me to stop?” He asked, his green eyes peering up at her.

“No,” She said, too quickly, “You can do anything y’ want to me.” She trusted him that much. 

Harry shuddered at her words, his heart expanding three sizes inside of his chest. He didn’t think it was possible to feel this way about somebody, to feel like all his calloused skin was peeling off of his body and now he was someone completely new. 

With shaky hands, he removed Y/N’s underwear, seeing the way her chest rose and fell. His hands gently pushed her plush thighs apart, “Fuck baby,” He groaned. 

“Please Harry,” Y/N mewled, her hips wriggling in hopes the action would propel him to do something. 

“Calm down lovie, jus’ admiring how pretty y’ are,” He smirks, his thumb trailing up her slit until it reached her clit. He stopped, hearing her weighted breaths before he began to rub it in slow, teasing circles. He caught the stutter in her breath, watching when her hands fisted the blanket. 

Without warning, Y/N feels his warm, wet tongue run between her folds. The sensation feels foreign but she’s overcome by intense pleasure as he begins lapping her through her folds. She feels her lungs deflate as the air escapes her, unable to breathe when he teases her clenching open. Her toes curl as his other hand travels to her hip to hold her down and nuzzle his face harder against her. 

Hearing her whines and feeling her writing beneath him, Harry feels his cock throbbing in his boxers, he could feel the damp fabric against his skin as he pressed himself into the mattress with his head still in between her thighs. 

“So good,” Y/N babbles, her body shivering when she felt the coil begin to tighten in the pit of her belly, “So, so good Harry.”

Before she could find her release, Harry pulled away his chin glistening with her juices. Y/N’s hands grapple for him but she can barely reach him and feels too floaty to try any harder. Harry’s hair is a mess as he crawls up her bare body and kisses her. She tastes herself on his tongue when they brush against each other, “I need to be inside of you,” He slurs against her lips, “I need you so bad Y/N, I think I’ll go crazy if I don’t.” 

Harry’s head hangs, his curls falling in front of his face. Y/N automatically pushes them back, her hips rolling against his. She can feel the damp spot against his boxers despite her own wetness covering her thighs, “I’m on birth control,” She tells him. 

Harry groans, his forehead pressing against her collarbones, “Of course you are,” He says, “Always so fucking prepared, aren’t you?” He drawls, “My best girl,”

Y/N’s heart flips and spins at his words, but the reality of the situation sets in when she feels him removing his boxers. She gasps as she feels his hardened length against the inside of her thigh. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but Harry was big; she had no clue whether it was normal for someone to be as thick as he was, and she wondered how she was meant to fit it all inside of her.

“Is this okay?” He murmurs and Y/N nods, “I feel like we should high-five or something,”

Y/N can’t help but laugh, “What?”

“Well we’re both virgins about to lose our virginity, shouldn’t we like boost morale or something?” He jokes and Y/N laughs so hard her cheeks ache. 

After they both settle, Harry kisses her quickly as he lines his cock up to her pussy, “Harry?” He hums a reponse, “It’ll fit right?”

Harry groaned, his mind still picturing her small, wet glistening pussy that he had just had his first taste of, “Yes baby, it’s your first time so it’ll hurt a little but if you want to stop we’ll stop and if you say go we’ll go and if you want me to leave you alone for ten minutes, I’ll leave for five. Whatever you want.” 

“Okay,” She nods, fully determined, “I love you,”

Harry’s eyes soften, “I love you too, lovie.”

Y/N smiles, “I like that name,”

“Yeah?” Harry’s lips curve. 

“Yeah,” Y/N loops her arms around his neck and tries her best to relax when she feels the tip of his cock brush through her folds. 

Harry kisses her forehead, “Take a deep breath,” He says and as she does, she feels him push his hips down and his tip gently ease into her. She gasps, feeling her pussy throb as he moves achingly slow, inch by inch inside of her. A thin layer of sweat covers Harry’s forehead, his jaw clenching as he feels her walls squeezing him tightly. 

She feels a sting of pain as his thick length pushes through her, her pussy stretching to accommodate his size. 

“Baby,” He murmurs, the tip of his nose brushing over her cheek, “If you keep clenching around me I’m gonna cum before I’m all the way inside of you.”

Y/N’s eyes widened, “You’re not all the way in yet?” 

Harry cringed, “M sorry, do you want to stop?”

Y/N immediately shook her head, pulling him closer to her, “Keep going,” She whispered despite the fact she was wondering if she even had enough room to fit him inside of her when she already felt so full. 

Harry eased into her a little quicker this time, kissing her soothingly and whispering sweet, encouraging nothings into her ear. He even began to rub his thumb against her clit in hopes it would ease some of her discomfort. 

Eventually, he found himself all the way, deep inside of her, her walls squeezing him tightly with his hips pressed against her own. “Are you okay?” He murmured. 

“Mhm,” Y/N could barely keep her eyes open from how blissful she felt. It was like nothing she had ever felt before, her entire body was just full up of him in ever sense of the word, “Can we stay like this for a moment,”

He kissed her shoulder and along her collarbones, “Whatever you want lovie, doing so well,”

Although he was trying to remain calm for her, Harry couldn’t believe he was buried deep inside of the girl he had loved for so long. He couldn’t feel any part of his body apart from where they were both connected, slotted together so perfectly like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. 

Her hair splayed out around her on the pillow, her lips were plushy and swollen, and her cheeks were red, the colour of two, crisp apples picked right off a tree. She was a dream, the love of his life. 

“Okay,” She murmured, “Y’ can move now.”

“Are you sure?” He would hate himself if he caused her any more pain but she nodded. 

A hiss escaped her lips as Harry began to slowly move out of her. He paused, “I just need to get used to it is all,” She assured. 

Harry nods, waiting for her to tell him to move again and when she does, he moves gently out of her before carefully thrusting back into her again. Now that she was getting used to the feeling of him inside of her, Y/N could feel the ridges and veins of his cock brush her walls, the tip of his cock pressing into her g-spot as he moved inside of her. 

“God Harry,” Y/N whines. 

“You’re m’ dream girl,” Harry slurs, biting his lip when he takes in how tight she is as she clenches around him. He grabs one of the hands still placed around his neck and kisses her wrist. He intertwines their fingers and settles their hands beside her head needing to feel her touch, “M’ best girl, I love y’ so much.” He whispers. 

“Love you,” She sighs, her eyes fluttering shut as he thrusts over and over again, each one more perfect than the last. 

“Y’ pussy is so perfect baby, made for each other, aren’t we? Hmm? Y’ my perfect, dream girl.” He groans, his head falling forward. 

Harry pulled his hand away from hers to smear his thumb over her clit. Y/N whimpers and writhes beneath him at the added pleasure, “Faster,” She whispers, “Please.”

Harry presses messy kisses along her jawline, “Don’t have to beg baby,” He hastens his rhythmic thrusts, their moans filling the air. 

“Can feel y’ clenching baby?” Harry seemed to already have an idea of when Y/N was about to cum from the way her body shivered beneath him, “Y’ gonna cum?” 

“Yes Harry,” She gasps, “Please Harry, it feels so good,” Her eyes pinched with tears at the overwhelming pleasure that filled every part of her. 

“Cum round my cock baby, make a mess hmm, need y’ to cum so I can cum too yeah?” He was almost pleading, words tumbling from his mouth as his thrusts began to speed up the closer he got to his release. 

Y/N could feel that same coil begin to tighten in her belly, she could see her vision start to blur and all her muscles tighten until it snapped and her back arched into him. He swooped one arm beneath her, pulling her into him and burying his face into her neck as he groaned into her, “Fuck,” He heaved, releasing into her. 

Y/N could barely get any words out as he collapsed on top of her. Her eyes were fixated on the ceiling, her lips parting with small puffs of air escaping her. She felt like she was floating, levitating off the bed and leaving her body behind, “Y’ okay baby,” Harry murmured, kissing her cheek, “Come down for me yeah?” He presses a hand to her forehead.

“Harry,” She whimpers, the first word to leave her lips after coming down from her high. She loops her arms around him and he scoops her up into his.

“You did such a good job, m’love,” He coos, moving her matted hair out of her forehead and admiring how beautiful she looked under the soft light of the lampshade. 

“Was so perfect,” She whispers, meeting his soft, green eyes and lifting a hand to brush his hair out of his face. 

“Yeah?” He smiled, holding her to him like she was something so fragile he was afraid he might break her.

“Mhm,” She hums, curling into him.  “I love you,” She kissed his chest and felt his heart thudding against her hand.

“I’ve loved you for a long time,” Harry replied. 

They lay tangled together amongst the sheets, waiting to float back down into their bodies but basking in every second they had in that moment where their hearts were the same. 

. . .

Y/N lay in bed that same night with Harry’s t-shirt now covering her bare form. Harry laughed as he re-entered the bedroom having just taken his second shower of the evening. 

She was watching a tennis match on the TV again. 

“You’re watching tennis?” He smiled, falling on the bed beside her, clad only in his boxers. “Is this your version of cigarettes after sex?”

Y/N grins, “What can I say? It’s my addiction.”

He reaches for her hand and mindlessly plays with her fingers but his ears prick when he hears his name from one of the commentators, “This is my game from last year,” Harry speaks, seeing his face appear on the screen. 

They watched as Harry walked onto the court exuding confidence as he shook hands with his opponent before the match started. He then pointed his racket at the middle of the stands where the audience was watching. 

“Why do you do that?” Y/N wonders, “Before every game, you’d always point your racket at the middle of the audience.” “Every game?” Harry poked her side. 

Y/N rolled her eyes, “Yeah, yeah, I’ve watched every single one of your games so what?”

Harry smiled, kissing her bare shoulder and answering, “Because you used to sit there.”

Y/N stilled turning her head to look at him, “What?”

“Whenever I would play at any of my tennis matches, I always looked out for you in the crowd and I’d always find you sitting right in the middle of the bleachers to watch. Eventually, it just became a thing, before I even set foot onto the court, I’d find you sitting in the exact same spot with the exact same expression on your face. I thought you were a good luck charm because whenever you weren’t sat there I’d lose. When I went to matches that you weren’t going to be watching, I just started pointing down the centre courts like my own superstition or something.” 

“Is that really the reason?” Y/N’s eyes glistened. 

Harry nodded, his eyes casting downward, “S embarrassing I know,” 

Y/N shook her head, cupping his face in her hands, “You’re so perfect,” She mumbled, the both of them falling back onto the mattress, getting lost in each other all over again. 

. . .

Y/N couldn’t focus on anything other than the crowd gathering in the stands as she sat in her plastic chair on the left-hand side of the umpire’s seat. Harry stood next to her, barely saying a word but offering her his presence to ease her nerves. 

Today was the final, the day Y/N had been working towards all these months and it didn’t feel real. The air was hot and humid, Y/N could already feel her skin sticking to the chair as the sun beat down on her. 

After waking up this morning, Y/N felt a blissful ache between her legs from her night with Harry. In some ways, she was thankful for it because for a moment it helped her forget what events lay ahead. Their night together had been magical, there was no other way she could describe it. She had no idea what could happen to a person after being so vulnerable with another but she felt lighter and even more in love with Harry than she had ever been before. 

Harry placed a hand on her shoulder, “We’ll be starting soon,” He murmured, squatting in front of her to meet her eyes. 

They had gone to the gym first thing in the morning to warm up for the day's big event. Harry had tried to distract her mind from the doubts that consumed her by playing bad music or challenging her strength on the bel bars but Y/N’s mind constantly drifted. 

“Right,” Y/N felt the pit in her stomach cave inwards, consuming all her insides and mushing them altogether. She felt a wave of nausea as Courtney walked onto the court and everyone applauded her. 

“Y/N,” Harry grasped her hand in her lap and squeezed, “You are going to win this. I wholeheartedly believe in you.”

Her shoulders drop, “If I don’t-”

“There’s no ‘if’,” Harry interrupted her before she could finish her negative train of thought, “You can and you will. Courtney may be a good tennis player but her ego outweighs all of that.” 

Y/N nods, “Okay,” She says. 

Harry stands, his hand cupping her left cheek to lift her head. He grins, “I love you.”

Y/N knows her heart is still intact at least from the way it flips and spins inside her chest at his words, “I love you too.”

A twinkle shines in his eyes until they drift over to the stands. His lips curve, “I think there are some other people here who love you too,” He motions his head towards the crowd and Y/N casts her gaze over in that direction. 

She feels her eyes prick with tears when she sees Sarah, Mitch and Adam in the front row of the stands all wearing t-shirts with her name and face plastered onto them. Sarah immediately spots her and waves, pointing to her shirt with excitement and pride for her best friend. 

“Did you bring them here?” Y/N asked, looking up at Harry.

He shrugged, “Sarah was insisting she came,”

Y/N squeezes his hand,  “Thank you,” She whispers, “For all of this. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you.” Harry holds her feeling her heart hammering against her chest as too many emotions consume them both. 

Unfortunately for her, Harry couldn’t stay at her side for the entire game but he was in the front row of the stands, directly in the middle exactly where she would sit whenever she would watch any of his games back home. 

When the umpire announced the game would begin, Y/N walked over to Courtney and shook her hand, “Good luck,” She said. 

Courtney scoffed, “Yeah, thanks.”

Y/N rolled her eyes.

As the match began, Y/N and Courtney faced off on the court. The crowd hushed, watching intently. Y/N felt jittery as she waited for Courtney's first serve.

Courtney tossed the ball and swung her racket, sending the ball flying towards Y/N who responded quickly, hitting the ball back with a loud smack.

The game was on. Y/N and Courtney traded shots back and forth, each trying to outplay the other. Y/N felt confident with each move she made, pushing away her earlier doubts until she noticed Courtney begin to counteract her moves when she took in how Y/N responded to each shot. 

With one hard-hitting strike, Courtney sent the ball straight past Y/N’s shoulder. 

Courtney had the first point. 

Y/N glanced over at Harry, seeing him watching with intense focus but his eyes were glued onto her as if she were the only person on the court. 

Ignoring Courtney’s smug expression, Y/N served the ball sending it straight into the air and hitting it back with all the force and aggression she could muster. The rally started up again, each stroke a testament to Y/N’s hard work over the past few months. Except this time, the winning prize was closer than it had ever been before. 

Y/N aimed the ball and landed it in the corner, Country struggling to reach it in time before it bounced off. 

“Fifteen all.” The umpire speaks. 

Her ears caught the cheers of her best friend in the crowd, Harry stood and clapped for her but she could still see how tense he was since the game had only just begun. 

This back-and-forth continued for the next few rounds. Every time Y/N would move, Courtney would match it. The scores were inching closer and closer to the end. Y/N watched when Courtney served the ball once more and aimed to respond, wrapping both her hands tightly around her racket and running towards the ball as it flung through the air but then she felt it. 

An intense pain travelled through her entire body coming from her shoulder and travelling down her arm. 

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion, the ball landing right by her as she dropped to her knees and her racket fell from her hands. Y/N let out a pained scream as she clutched her shoulder.

Medics ran onto the court, people gasping in their seats as they watched the events unfold. “Harry,” Y/N whimpered, “Harry,” She was saying his name like he was looking out for him. 

“Stop moving,” One of the medics urged when Y/N tried to stand up. 

“Harry,” Y/N sobbed, tears falling from her eyes. 

She wasn’t sure what hurt more - her shoulder or her heart breaking from the thought of all this being over. 

“Y/N,” Harry was out of breath as he approached her, pushing the security out of the way when they tried to stop him. He collapsed to his knees beside her, searching for the damage.

“Harry,” Y/N cried, the only word she could possibly seem to say in a moment like this.

Harry didn’t know what to do. He felt helpless as he waited for the medics to finish checking out her arm. He held her head to his chest, covering her ears as though it would be enough to shelter her from all that was going on around them. “It’s okay baby,” He whispered, trying to remain calm despite the panic he was feeling. 

He felt as though this was all some kind of nightmare he couldn’t seem to wake up from. Flashbacks from his own injury came to the forefront of his mind as he sat beside her, his shirt dampening as her tears seeped through. “You’re going to be fine,” He told her, repeatedly like he was trying to make himself believe it too. 

“It’s ruined, I failed.” Y/N sobbed. 

“Hey,” He held her face, trying to smooth some of the tears away, “You’re not a failure and you didn’t ruin anything. You played so well, the best I’ve ever seen.”

“It’s over,” She couldn’t take in anything he was saying and he knew that.

He knew what she was feeling - how the pain of losing everything outweighed the physical pain of an injury. “I love you Y/N, you’re going to be okay.” Was all he could say. 

“Y/N, it's a mild dislocation,” one of the medics explained.

“What?” Y/N tried not to scream as they moved her arm.

“We need to take you to the hospital to get it reset,” they advised, but Y/N shook her head immediately.

“No,” she whispered urgently, “Do it now.”

“Y/N—” Harry couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

Ignoring him, Y/N locked eyes with him and insisted, “Put it back in now, and I can finish the game.”

“Y/N, this is crazy,” Harry protested, shaking his head, “I won’t let you go out there in this much pain.”

“You’ve done it before,” she reminded him, “I watched you dislocate your shoulder and keep playing.”

“This is different,” Harry argued, remembering his own injury.

“If I don’t finish this, I would hate myself,” Y/N insisted earnestly, “Please.”

“Y/N, you’ll be at a disadvantage. You’d have to play the entire game with one hand.”

“I know, and I know how to do it,” Y/N reassured him, her eyes softening, “Because you taught me.”

Harry struggled with a gut feeling that this was a terrible idea. “Okay,” he relented, brushing her hair back gently, “Okay.”

“Are you sure?” the medic asked, clearly apprehensive.

“Just do it,” Y/N spoke through gritted teeth.

Harry held the back of her head as she buried her face in his neck, clinging onto his hands tightly. “I’m gonna be so mad at you for this later,” he whispered into her ear.

“That’s okay,” Y/N attempted a smile, but it quickly faded as the medics reset her shoulder. She wailed and squeezed Harry’s hand so tightly he thought it might fall off.

As the medics stepped back, Y/N raised her arm, feeling the pain subside but still present. “Are you okay?” Harry asked, concern etched on his face.

“No,” Y/N said, “But I have to do this.”

The crowd gasped when Y/N stood, picking up her racket with one hand and flipping it in her hand. Harry stood, glancing over at Courtney who was equally as shocked as everybody else. 

He stood in front of Y/N, “I’m so pissed at you right now,” He huffs, “But you better win this.”

Y/N shot him a sad smile, “I’ll try my best.”

He hastily kissed her lips before she could walk away to carry on playing, “That’s all I ask,” He murmured against her. He walks back to his place in the stands, Y/N watching as he goes. 

She pushed away the pain that was shooting down her arm and stood on her end of the court to finish the game. Courtney seemed unsure, scanning the way she stood and seeing her limp arm beside her. 

Y/N glanced at the academy trophy, feeling like it was now out of reach. 

The umpire announced the final round and the tension fell thick in the air. Y/N inhaled a shaky breath and got into position, watching as Courtney threw the ball into the air and hit it with her racket. 

Even though one of her arms wasn’t exactly working, her legs worked just fine as she ran for the ball, hitting it with her racket in her one hand. She gritted her teeth when the pain increased with her movements and met Coutrney’s rallies as best as she could. The match raged on, each swing of the racket echoing with the intensity of her cries as Y/N hit the ball. 

With each shot, Y/N poured her heart and soul into the game, her movements fueled by sheer determination. The crowd held its breath, watching in awe as she defied the odds with every stroke.

As the pain intensified, Y/N's desperation for the game to end grew. She couldn't understand why Courtney hadn't already sealed the win with one final move. However, Y/N was slowly wondering whether Courtney was using her pain as a way of satisfying her own ego. Y/N noticed whenever she winced or faltered in her movements, Courtney's smirk widened as if she was intentionally prolonging the game to relish in Y/N's discomfort.

A surge of anger ignited within Y/N at the realisation. Harry had been right about Courtney's ego, and now Y/N was determined to turn it against her. 

With gritted teeth and a steely determination in her eyes, Y/N squared her shoulders and focused solely on the game. She blocked out the pain, channeling every ounce of her strength and skill into each swing of her racket.

Courtney's smirk faltered as Y/N's resolve became palpable. The crowd sensed a shift in momentum, their cheers growing louder. With each stroke, Y/N felt herself gaining ground, her movements becoming more fluid and precise. 

And then, with one final, decisive shot, she sent the ball sailing past Courtney, landing squarely within the boundaries of the court.

Y/N fell to her knees, tears falling from her eyes as she realised she had won the entire game. 

Harry, Sarah, Mitch and Adam all leapt from the stands and ran towards her, embracing her carefully so to avoid her aching shoulder. 

Harry picked her up, holding her tightly and kissing her face, “You did it,” He grinned, “You won.”

“I did it,” Y/N sobbed in disbelief and then a smile took over her entire face as realisation hit her. 

She had won. 

. . . 

Y/N stood by her locker with Sarah, her arm wrapped in a sling whilst wearing her school uniform. Banners littered the walls of the hallway with ‘congratulations’ written in golden handwriting across them. 

“I can’t believe you won’t be coming with me to UCL next year,” Sarah huffed, “How am I meant to do anything without you?”

Y/N smiled at her best friend, “The tennis academy is a twenty minute walk away from UCL so it’s not like we’ll be away from each other.”

“I know but who am I going to roomie with next year?” Sarah sighed, “It won’t be the same. We’ve been roommates since we were five, I can’t trust anybody like I do with you. I mean, you even accept my white noise machine.”

Y/N hadn’t accepted it, she hated that thing, but Sarah was her best friend so she put up with it, “Well how about we get an apartment together?” 

Sarah almost gasps, “Seriously?”

Y/N nods, “I was thinking maybe me, you, Mitch and Harry could all move in together since we’re going to be living in the same city.”

Sarah’s entire face lights up at the idea, “Have you told Harry about it?”

“We spoke about it last night.” Last night when she stayed the night at his apartment and spent most of the night tangled up in one another. 

Sarah squealed, “I have to tell Mitch, he is going to love that idea. Don’t tell Harry this but the other day he started crying at the thought of having to leave him when the year ends.”

They walked out of the school building together, Sarah rambling about how she wanted to decorate their non-existing apartment as Y/N nodded intently to each of her ideas. 

Since the Academy Slam, not much had changed other than the fact that Y/N was now going to be spending the next two years at the Tennis Academy in London. The school newspaper had done another interview with her but this time she didn’t mind so much that Harry shared the front cover with her, pride on his face as he looked down at her. 

Even though she was achieving her dreams, nothing compared to the relationship she had with Harry. Everyday Y/N felt like she was floating whenever she woke up in Harry’s arms in his apartment or in her tiny dorm bed whenever Sarah wasn’t around. 

A smile covered her entire face when she saw Harry looking like every girl’s wet dream, leaning up against the bonnet of his audi as he waited for her. When he did, his own smile mirrored hers, “Hi baby,” He spoke, her heart pounding in her chest.

“Hi Harry,” Y/N stood toe to toe in front of him, clutching her books in one arm. 

He wrapped one arm around her waist beneath her blazer and pulled her into his chest, kissing her lips softly, his breath tasting like mint chewing gum, “How’s m’ girl?”

Y/N bit down on her lip to stop herself from smiling so much, “Good, I had a test today.”

“Did you smash it?” He smirked. 

“Yes but I probably could have done better if somebody hadn’t kept me up all last night.” She rolled her eyes. 

His lips went to her neck, “Don’t lie, you loved what I did,” He mumbled against her skin as he suckled on her neck, surely leaving a mark. 

“These late nights are getting out of hand,” Y/N made a feeble attempt to push him away. 

“Mmm,” He hummed, pulling away, “Need I remind you that you were the one to initiate it,” 

“I did not,” Y/N gaped. 

“Uh huh,” Harry smirked, “Whatever you want to believe.”

“No you were the one who-” 

Harry’s smirk deepened, “Who what?” He watched as Y/N’s cheeks turned pink and her mouth open and closed as she struggled to say something. 

“Shut up,” She huffed, walking to the passenger seat of his car,  “Take me home please,” 

“Whatever you want,” He beamed, loving the way she called his apartment her home. 

He drove away from the tennis courts, a spark of joy igniting within her every time they came into view. Harry held her hand over the console as they drove down the streets to his apartment, feeling more at peace than she had ever been before. Not only was she going to be going to her dream school but she’d also be with Harry and her best friend too. 

For a long time, Y/N believed that tennis was the only love of her life but now she had Harry and if she had to choose between the two, she would pick him every single time.

taglist: @storyschanging @lilbredsticc @esposa-do-harry @st-ev-ie @itschelseacisneros @hermionelove @tenaciousperfectionunknown  @hesvoid34 @writersarenotartists @ayeree1 @sassamanda77 @estaticheart

[nymphia-tarot]

Your relationship with them [18+] PAC

pile 1 ----> pile 2

pile 3 ----> pile 4

🍂 meditate on the pics and pick whichever one calls to you the most. this reading is divided into two parts: your general life dynamic and your sex-life. you might feel drawn to more than one pile, which means you may have messages in other piles for you as well! if you don't feel particularly drawn to any pile, the messages in this reading might not be intended for you. since this is a general reading, take what resonates! 🍂

🍂Pile 1:

ᯓ★ General:

I'm getting your person is somewhat ambitious and a planner. They may have come from humble beginnings and thus, they know the value of hardwork and pragmatism. There's probably a lot of LGBTQ+ individuals in this pile. I'm getting a lot of sapphics in particular?

I'm getting your partner embodies the more "dominant" or active energy in the dynamic here. They're probably just used to being the one who does most of the doing in their life. I'm getting workaholic vibes as well. Your person feels like you really pull them off their balance. Or like, you can easily shake them off even when they try to hold themselves together. I feel like for a lot of you it's probably unintentionally too which kinda frustrates them lol.

If you lived together, they might probably be really busy all the time due to their nature as well as circumstances. I feel like work and responsibilities may be overwhelming in the relationship. There might even be arguments due to a clash of values or perspectives about some matters. They might not be able to meet your emotional needs at times due to them generally being more head-oriented. I'm getting warnings from spirit regarding communication. All relationships are built on trust and healthy communication, so don't be discouraged! With time, I feel this could be a very mature and deep relationship based on security, trust and hardwork overcoming obstacles together. However, if issues exacerbate and you find that they're not the right one for you then the choice to decide on the future is always your right.

ᯓ★ In the bedroom:

Your person finds you extremely tempting and irresistible. They may even have been lusting after you for quite a while before you guys got together. I'm getting that they were pining after you heavily and being extremely downbad lol. They love watching you and they may even start fantasizing about you midday whenever they look at you 😭💀 They might do it solo a lot with you in their mind. They might be lowkey afraid that others might feel the same about you and it makes them a bit anxious even though I feel like they might hide it outwardly.

There's a lot of passion in the bedroom between the two of you. Their feelings towards you are very intense, almost as if they're directing it all at once with a laser focus. They might get very consumed in the bedroom, like nothing else exists in the moment except the two of you. They might like receiving oral from you a lot or at least they fantasize about it quite a lot of times. They might even be dominant in the bedroom and have fantasies of you submitting to them. I feel like they're the possessive type, and this might even show from subtle things in the moment like the way they grip you just a bit harder, almost as if they don't want to let you go.

A lot of yall in pile 1 might be pillow-princesses. I feel like you also love teasing your partner, not usually in an overt way but through more subtle mannerisms. Your partner notices this and it drives them craaazyy lol. Overall, I feel like you really satisfy each other in bed and you might also subconsciously soothe a lot of each other's insecurities and deeply-rooted fears. Sometimes, the sex between you two might get so intense that you both lose sight of everything else-- maybe you leave your room/house really messy everytime you do it too. They might like to get rough with you in bed but there's also aftercare and I feel like a lot of you really enjoy the aftercare sessions a lot, almost like that's the main "treat" you're after even though the sex is good.

🍂 Pile 2:

ᯓ★ General:

I feel like quite a lot of my pile 2 individuals are very idealistic people and hopeless romantics. Maybe some of you are even inexperienced in the matters of love and might have a lot of ideas and fantasies about the perfect relationship, which might even be unrealistic at times (hey, nothing wrong with it as long as it's not negatively interfering with your life). I feel like this relationship will be nothing like you've dreamed of, and that's not necessarily in a bad way. In a way, it'll teach you valuable life lessons and give you a more grounded and mature perspective about the reality of relationships.

Your person is a very free individual and they're the type who doesn't hold anything back. Maybe their boundaries are very expansive, and they might appear extremely open and accepting. They might be very materially prosperous and abundant as well. I feel like your person is very sociable and might be someone who belongs to "high society". I'm getting Gatsby vibes-ish outwardly. Very composed, elegant and smooth as well in their exterior-- almost like they have it all together, a social chameleon and a charming influencer.

However, I'm getting that there might be a duality to them. They might even be depressed lowkey. They might not have the healthiest relationship with their emotions. It's like, they were never really taught how to handle pain and they might even keep that aspect of themselves neglected, which might lead to detrimental consequences as a result. Perhaps my pile 2s were drawn to the outer brilliance of this person because they do appear really bright, like a treasure. They seem like the ideal prince of your dreams who could fulfill all your needs initially. However, as the relationship progresses, you discover more and more aspects of them that aren't entirely beautiful. This relationship comes with struggles, especially mental health struggles for a lot of you, and it might even be harder than you initially expected. However, at the end, you will also find a lot of growth individually. Also, I'm getting that some people here in this pile were attracted to both pile 1 and 2 and found overlapping messages relevant to their situation in both piles?

ᯓ★ In the bedroom:

Your person might have some kinkier desires when it comes to the bedroom that they don't just allow anyone to know. I'm getting it might be a bit shameful for them to admit, that's why it's mostly secret. They might even take you to a sex dungeon to do it at times so that you can fulfill that desire.

For your person, sex is a very intimate thing and they might really like privacy in the moment-- in the sense that they're allowing you and you alone to see something noone else is allowed to know. It takes a lot of trust for them to open up, and I'm getting that a major overarching theme in the dynamic between you two is the merging of boundaries and letting yourself go, as if holding nothing back out of a decision to trust and find security in each other.

I'm getting that they might think of themselves as "hideous" deep down, not necessarily in appearance but just as a general feeling. They might see you as something "pure" that they're tainting (kinda depressed vibes yeah). Reminds me of that one Nine Inch Nails song: Closer. Perhaps they even see you as "above" them and might feel undeserving of you deep down. I'm also getting that they really like your chest. They really enjoy sucking them too. Perhaps you might take a more nurturing role in the bedroom for them, soothing them and making them feel loved and safe. You might take control more often than them in the bedroom and they also enjoy getting tied up while you're free to do anything to them. They might like being more on the receiving end of sex. They might also idolise you a lot.

🍂 Pile 3:

ᯓ★ General:

For my pile 3s, what I'm getting is that when you start a relationship with your person you might be in somewhat of a pinch financially. Maybe you or your partner might be having a hard time finding employment or maybe your job will face some problems where it'll be difficult to get by with simply wages. I'm getting that you guys will start a creative partnership. It'll be something decided on a whim, maybe you will just decide to go "fuck it" and take a leap of faith to see where fortune takes you and start a creative outlet, perhaps a new business venture. You (plural) might be full of ideas and innovative spirits.

This relationship will be more of a mutual partnership and you guys are like best friends who are also lovers kinda deal. There are a lot of different people here... for some, I'm getting that you might get an offer for help from the other but you will reject it due to a possibility for imbalance in the relationship and you will choose your freedom and pursue an independent path, which you'll be successful at in the end anyway.

This relationship will lead to a sort of rebirth for both of you as individuals, mostly your person though. They might go through a major transformation in the future of this relationship. In the future, there's a lot of worries and anxiety coming from your end regarding your ability to manifest your dreams. A lot of you are people who like to dream big and have high hopes. So maybe you're afraid that you might not succeed and the circumstances surrounding you will start to weigh on you a bit more than you can handle. However, I'm getting that the hurdles present in this relationship are not only yours to carry alone. This relationship seems very balanced mostly and it's one of those relationships where you both go through troubles together hand in hand to support each other through thick and thin.

ᯓ★ In the bedroom:

I'm getting a lot of emphasis on your bottom. Maybe it's your person's favourite part of your body for them. They really enjoy giving you oral, doing it while watching you from behind or just watching that part of you. The sex between you two might be something that feels really transformative. You might do it a lot to release mundane stress and tension from daily life and it really helps soothe you at the end of the day. They might also enjoy giving you oral from below while you're preoccupied with some work at your desk.

You guys might also indulge in semi-public sex. You might do it in situations where there's a risk of being seen by others. I'm also getting sex in the park lol. You or your person might be into voyeur fantasies as well where there's a third party involved to watch. Or maybe they'll introduce a third party in your sex life as well. However, the focus is more on pleasing you than them and that's what the third party is for. Sometimes, they might even show up at the workplace secretly and have sex with you lol.

I'm seeing that your person genuinely has a lot of deep feelings for you and wants you to be cared for and happy with them. They might express this through sex where they'll focus more on your satisfaction than theirs. It's like, your satisfaction makes them satisfied and turns them on. Sometimes, they might even be really worried that you don't want them as much as they want you. They have a tendency to not voice their discomfort and it might lead to some repressed resentment so an advice I'd give out is communicating your boundaries with each other in a healthy manner. Honestly, deep down what they really want is your attention while you forget about everything else and just focus on them. They lowkey love being pampered and are kinda needy.

🍂 Pile 4:

ᯓ★ General:

For my pile 4s, I'm getting that there's a certain sense of imbalance in this relationship. Your person might be in a position (whether socially, financially, professionally or elsewhere) where they're above you and you guys aren't on equal ground. This might create somewhat of a power dynamic and they might hold more than you do. Be careful, because for some of you I'm getting that there's a potential for abuse here, or some other form of exploitation due to how severely skewed the dynamics of the relationship are.

I'm seeing there's also a good potential for marriage. They might come to you with a marriage offer and do their best to woo you. You're like a wish-fulfillment to your person and they really desire you as someone that seems special and magnetic, like a distant star. For some, I'm getting that you might even be younger than them, or you have a more youthful and bright energy to you that they really admire and look at fondly. It's because you have this spark to you that they find really rare and you pull them in with your brightness. I'm also getting that your presence gives them a lot of hope.

For this relationship, I'm getting that your person likes to hold control over the dynamic. They might lowkey have a manipulative streak in that they make situations go a certain way in subtle manners so that it leads to the ideal outcome they want. I'm getting that a lot of my pile 4s are very intelligent and you might discern them more easily than they think. You two might enjoy playing mind games with each other a lot as a form of stimulation. I'm getting that one anime "kaguya-sama" vibes where the couple did a lot of silly shit to get each other to fall for them lol. Maybe a lot of yall are sapiosexuals as well.

ᯓ★ In the bedroom:

The two of you have really intense chemistry and the sex is extremely passionate as well. It's like when you're together, you tend to drown in pleasure and forget everything else. Really rough sex, intense positions and hot and heavy movements, etc. You guys really get into the moment when you're together and due to that you might end up somewhat sore or just really tired afterwards when you're done.

In a way, I feel like both of you are more focused on your own sensations and pleasure and focus everything to whatever you're feeling in the moment. Not that you don't please each other or don't care about each other at all, but it's more like the feeling of pleasure is the main focus when you're in the bedroom. Something lowkey Dionysian about the moment you're together. You two might both enjoy how messy it can get in bed. You're both very downbad and like to do it anywhere.

Your person enjoys it when you ride on top of them or when you wrap your legs around them. They also really enjoy watching you move violently or roughly while your face is twisted in pleasure while they're going at it. It's the animalistic impulse that really turns them on. Sex for them is a way of touching upon that primitive part of yourself and letting it lose. That's why your sessions can be a bit uninhibited. They might even enjoy gripping you tightly and get stern during sex. They'll always make sure the both of you orgasam and achieve pleasure though. They also love embracing you and touching you in general. They think of you as a queen/king in the bedroom and might even treat you like one in their own way. They're also really into spanking and punishments (either to you or for themselves). Both of you can be very vocal during sex. A lot of people might even gossip about yall.

[always-andromeda]

𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐫

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ⟡ Javi Gutierrez x F!Reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ⟡ 2,685

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 ⟡ A lull in your relationship with Javi leads to some revelations about both of your interests.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ⟡ so this was a new one for me. this piece is part of @iamasaddie's kinky writing challenge for May and my pairing was Javi G with impact play. I am happy to report that I enjoyed researching this more than I thought I would? I found some really interesting kink blogs that kind of walked me through safe practices and it started to paint the picture in my mind that would become this fanfic. big disclaimer: I've never practiced impact play in real life. my depiction of it comes primarily from the research I've done and what I know of my own personal preferences and I've tried my best to depict a healthy dynamic. so if I'm getting something wrong or I'm depicting anything in an unhealthy way, feel free to let me know!! divider credits go to @saradika-graphics!!

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ⟡ smut (minors, do not interact), impact play, oral (female receiving), aftercare, pet names (hermosa, baby), reader is given no physical description aside from being able bodied, allusions to past negative experiences with sex (nothing specific is described), a little bit of soft!dom/switch Javi, please let me know if any more are needed!

It’s not that you weren’t satisfied with Javi. The sex had almost always been fine. Hell, most times it was fantastic; better than anything you’d had before. There certainly wasn’t any love lost between you and him. You’d always adore him and the beautiful life you’d built with him by the sea in Mallorca. 

At first you thought it might have been the passing of time that spurred this particular…yearning. After all, don’t most couples go through these patches after a few years? But it quickly became apparent that this wasn’t a fleeting desire. Days passed and you kept going back to the same blog: Impact Play For Beginners.

The first time you’d stumbled across it, you hadn’t paid it much mind. You were looking for ways to spice things up with Javi. But it didn’t seem like him. As your eyes flitted over images of paddles, whips, and canes, all you could think of was how uncomfortable he’d most likely be. The idea of that turned you off, of course.

But you didn’t stay off for very long at all.

Perhaps it was the fact that he felt so safe that made the idea so enticing to begin with. You’d never been with anyone who approached sex as healthily as Javi did. He’d always been fervent with his desires. At the same time, he’d never made you feel like you had to do anything. There was always foreplay, regular check-ins, aftercare, and the ability to say no to whatever, whenever.

It was refreshing. Relieving. And that’s what made it so rough, thinking about possibly bringing something new into the equation. But, Javi had always been big on communication. You trusted that the same principles would apply here. So that’s why you brought it up.

Javi had been open but hesitant about it. At face value, this kink really wasn’t his style. He favored a softer approach. He couldn’t imagine laying a hand on you and causing any sort of harm. But in all honesty…the idea excited you.

The more you looked into it, the more you began to draw some hard lines in the sands of your mind. First and foremost, no toys. As exciting as a crop looked, you weren’t sure if you were prepared for that. At least not yet. For now, you were sticking with the advice of various kink blogs you’d scrolled through and starting off with hands only. Not only were those the instruments that piqued your interest in the first place, they also put you the most at ease. It felt poetic somehow; his usually gentle hands delivering both pleasure and pain this time.

Another aspect you started to delve into were on and off limit body parts. That was the moment Javi set a boundary of his own. “Nothing with your face. I’m not touching your gorgeous face, hermosa,” he’d said with the softest puppy dog eyes. And you didn’t argue. You weren’t feeling comfortable with that either. 

No, you’d start out in the safest zones possible, the places that would be least likely to get injured: your ass and thighs. 

Then came the scheduling. You both agreed on a weekend night just so there was an adequate amount of time for recovery before either of you had to worry about work.

You stand in front of the vanity mirror in your bedroom. Part of you feels like you’re standing on the edge of a cliff as you stare at the lingerie clad figure being reflected back at you. With the night that’s ahead of you, you figured it’d be safest to wear something you’re familiar with sans the bottoms for easier access. It’s a simple chemise that’s comfortable enough, yet it hugs your body in a way that you know both you and Javi enjoy. You try to focus on that thought as you think.

The most reassuring part is that you aren’t afraid. As much as you’d wanted this, you’d also wondered if you would be. Instead you’re all raw nerves. And the electricity thrumming from them only calms when Javi appears in the mirror behind you.

You watch his dark eyes trace over your body in the mirror. It’s a sight he’s seen probably hundreds of times at this point, yet he still looks like it’s the first time he’s laid eyes on you.

“You are so beautiful, hermosa,” Javi breathes out in genuine awe. “Gorgeous.”

Your cheeks warm at the dose of flattery.

Javi’s hands start at your shoulders and you relax into them. The heels of his palms knead the muscles that seem to be perpetually knotted up. You close your eyes and picture that taut tissue slowly and carefully unwinding itself. A small sigh escapes you. It sows hope within you knowing that he’s willing to step out of his comfort zone for this. But it also brings you comfort; he’ll always take care of you just like this. 

“Are we doing okay, so far?” Javi mumbles.

You stifle a small laugh and the urge to say, “We’ve barely started anything.”

Because you know this is new for him. You try to remember that you’re new at this too. Don’t go too far, too fast. Pace yourself, you say internally.

“We’re alright,” you finally assure him.

“Promise me you’ll use your safe word if you need to.”

You meet his gaze in the mirror. He eyes you with furrowed brows and his lips in a thin line. His hands still work at your shoulders; work you into the most soothing rhythm that makes you want to fall asleep. But the fire that fills your bones makes you feel more alive than ever.

You nod and then turn to face him. “I will. I promise.”

Your hands find his cheeks and cup them. In that moment you’re holding your entire world. And you’re trusting him to fulfill some of your most vulnerable fantasies.

Your lips meet his and it all starts to fall together. He’s warm and tastes vaguely of citrus. His hands land on the globes of your ass and he gives them a good squeeze. A moan slowly rises in his throat. If there was one thing you knew Javi was looking forward to, it was paying more attention to that part of you. Besides, there was no way you could miss the way he looked at the pictures on one of the kink blogs you’d scrolled through together. Shots of a woman’s back. Bright red marks in the shape of a hand on her ass. 

His eyes had been so wide, simply staring at them as you read through tips for beginners.

“You wouldn’t want marks like that…would you?” he’d asked then. 

The note of hopefulness in his voice was palpable. He’d never been good at concealing his emotions, especially around you.

“I don’t know…maybe,” you’d replied coyly before admitting, “I kind of like the idea of it. Of having that reminder of you.” As if everything else wasn’t enough. As if you needed to see the evidence of his love represented by blemishes on your skin. That was the thing about Javi though, his whole being was so infectious. You needed him to inhabit every part of your life. You needed to see his handprints on you like you needed to breathe.

Anticipation sends a shiver up your spine as you lay on your stomach along the foot of the bed you share with him. Propped up on your elbows, you arched your back in order to better present your ass to him.

He takes a moment to lean over your form. You already feel a bit of a bulge poke the back of your thighs. At least he’s starting to enjoy himself, you grin.

“Are you ready to begin?” Javi asks. You hum absently only to be met with a brief pause before he adds, “Words, hermosa. Words.”

“Yes, sir,” you say, voice raised louder this time. You don’t see his expression, but you can imagine the way it stutters based on the silence that follows.

Javi thankfully doesn’t leave you with too much time to second guess yourself before you hear his chuckle, “Very good job. I’m already so proud of you.”

He stands again and continues gentle ministrations on your upper thighs. Once again you feel as though you could simply fall asleep. And there’s something secure in feeling like you could. You’re safe. 

A pleasant flush builds on the surface of your skin. You can feel the blood coursing through your veins as Javi warns, “I’m going to give you the first strike. Then we’ll go from there, alright?”

“Alright. I’m ready,” you affirm. And you mean it.

A few seconds later, you feel a light slap on your ass. It’s almost playful. And it doesn’t satisfy the craving within. You start to squirm, hoping to suppress some of the restlessness brewing in your chest.

“Easy, hermosa. Good girls stay patient,” Javi says. You’re not quite used to hearing such language come from him. But it’s perfectly in line with his desire to care for you. It’s how you feel confident that you’re both on the same page. He doesn’t want you overwhelming yourself either. So despite the soft start, you don’t feel any disappointment.

You do what you’re told and stay patient. 

The slaps don’t startle you until one leaves a particular sting that awakens a heartbeat in your core. For the moment it lives, it means everything to you. The initial jolt, along with that expectant throb, subsides a little too quickly for your liking. You fist the silk sheets beneath you just to find purchase in something.

“Keep going like that,” you whisper breathlessly, wanting to chase that feeling to the ends of the Earth.

And Javi lets you. He slaps your ass once, twice, three more times and each one builds the heat that crackles along your flesh like thunderclaps. On the fourth slap you finally gasp a small, “Fuck.” You feel yourself clench around nothing. But Javi still groans as if he was inside you. 

“You like this, hm?” he growls.

“So fucking much,” you whimper.

Smack.

The impact is hard enough that it makes you jump. More importantly, you feel that throb once more. Your belly fills with butterflies as you start to realize that it’s fucking working for you. 

You try to imagine what you must look like from his point of view. Ass up, head bowed, gasping between blows. You bet that based on your position, from where he stands, he’s probably getting a peek at your cunt too. And if it looks anything like it feels, you’ve got to be glistening. You’ve got to have the most inviting look about you. And the fact that that vulnerability still doesn’t scare you…your head feels lost in the clouds.

You feel Javi’s fingers drag over the curve of your ass before they stop just short of your cunt. He says suddenly, “Fuck, I need you. I need to taste you. Please?” he begs. 

All you can manage is a whine along with a swift nod before rolling around on your back. Just as quickly, Javi is on his knees, dragging you down the bed by your ankles until he’s almost face to face with your cunt. You can feel just how swollen your lips are. And as he begins to lap at your slick, you know that you haven’t gotten this wet in a while. It fulfills something inside you that you hadn’t expected.

Your thighs and your ass burn, but it only adds to the pleasure gradually filling your belly. The pain and pleasure come together in a gorgeous harmony that has your hips rocking along against Javi’s mouth. His warm tongue fucks you as your clit rubs against his nose. It’s a classic position that’s only heightened with the knowledge that when you wake up in the morning, his handprints are going to be on your ass.

You’re shamelessly rutting against him now. Fingers knitted through his hair, you ride out the mounting pressure like you’ll die if you don’t. And Javi – being the pleaser he is – enjoys it. Between breaths, he groans, sending vibrations through you that seem to rattle your bones.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you whine.

“Mhm,” Javi hums desperately. “Go ahead, you can get there, hermosa. Just use me, please.”

Tears start to slip down the sides of your temples. Flashes of all the men you’ve been with before fill your head. You think of all the times you weren’t in control. All the times you felt you didn’t have a say in what was going to happen to your own body. And those memories only remind you that none of that is true anymore. Right here and right now, you’re with Javi. And he’s indulged in something you would’ve been too afraid to express to anyone else. All he wants is to please you. And that only makes your tears flow faster.

You’re going to combust. Javi Gutierrez is going to make you fucking explode and you don’t even care. You’ve gotten yours. As long as he too gets to feel the impact of his kindness, you’re satisfied.

Just like that, the bomb goes off and you’re on fire as pleasure rips through you. You’re in pieces. Legs wrapped around Javi’s upper half, heels digging into the muscles of his back, and hands keeping him held in place; keeping what’s left of you together in a shaky embrace.

It takes a few seconds for the shock to melt away. Somehow you catch your breath and finally remove your hands from Javi’s curls to wipe away your tears. If you weren’t tired before, you’re exhausted now. More than the physical satisfaction, you couldn’t have foreseen the emotional release. 

Your ass and your thighs don’t quite hurt anymore. It’s more of a soft ache; a rolling wave you ride on until it passes, leaving your head floating in a placid ocean of bliss. This naturally comes with some swirls of catharsis and sentimentality. They both buzz in your mind and you're only distantly aware of it when Javi gets up to wet a washcloth.

When he returns, he cleans you up the way he always does. Asking if he’s alright to touch you in various places and letting you know before he does so you’re not startled. You pay just enough attention to hum in agreement as he carefully parts your thighs to wipe up the remnants of slick and spit. 

Javi finishes the job a minute or two later, leaving once more to add the washcloth to the laundry basket in your closet. Then you feel the mattress dip as Javi lays beside you, looking spent without even taking off a shred of his own clothing.

You return to your own mind for a moment. Enough to turn, lay on your side, and send him a worried look. “Oh, I’m so sorry, baby. Do you need me to take care of you?”

Javi laughs lightly, “No. It’s alright, hermosa. You don’t need to take care of anything for me.”

“Are you sure?”

A soft smile forms on his face. “You’re happy, right?”

You nod.

“Good. I’m happy too. We don’t need anything else.”

Javi tenderly places a hand on your lower back and pulls you a little closer towards his chest, his grin growing. “Besides, I can’t wait to see those marks in the morning.”

His expression is so contagious you can’t help but return it before placing a kiss on his nose. “Me neither,” you whisper. Within a few days those marks he most certainly left would start to take on a purple hue before fading into a yellowish undertone. The prospect of seeing that progression fills your stomach with butterflies once more. Surely you both prepared enough that they wouldn’t take long to heal. But that doesn’t bring you down in the slightest. Because as long as Javi is willing to, when those marks do go away, you and him get to make them all over again.

Thank you so much for reading!! If you enjoyed, please consider reblogging; it's massively appreciated!!

[bluejay757]

Lets talk about Simon and Betty

spoilers for episode 8

So a lot of people are throwing around some strong accusations about their relationship, some I can see where they're coming from, and a lot are really reaching.

As for the ones that I think are reaching, a lot of people are saying that Simon and Betty were a professor/student dynamic, except they weren't. Simon wasn't teaching a class he was a guest lecturer, and Betty, having read his work was interested. She was excited to meet him because she liked his research. Simon was constantly mocked in his field, if you actually read the newspaper clippings from "I remember you" you'll see that even after he found the enchiridion, he was made fun of. People were literally laughing at him and throwing things at him while he was giving his lecture. Betty likely was mocked too, it makes sense she was so excited to meet him, because this was her chance to meet one of the few people that actually shared her interest. She did not yet have a crush on him at that point in time.

I think after she got to know Simon on a personal level her fascination of him changed, as she no longer viewed him as a "celebrity" (I use that term loosely for a lack of a better word, I can't imagine his books sold that many copies, what with him being a laughing stock and him being genuinely surprised that Betty had read his work), but rather a colleague and equal. She even said that after their trip together she had grown to admire him as a person, so it's not like she had any kind of feelings for him prior to that. Now that's not to say her feelings towards him were completely normal, but there definitely wasn't a power imbalance between them.

A lot of people are saying Simon was selfish for making her stay behind, but he didn't make her. She chose to stay behind. She could have still gone on that trip, and continued to write to him and talk to him on the phone, but she chose to stay with him and go on different adventures. You're forgetting that Simon and Betty went on expeditions together all the time, it's not like she gave up her career for him, that would be a whole different story, but she made the decision to continue working in her field alongside him.

Also Simon couldn't have gone on that trip if he did want to because he wasn't offered to go, who ever it was that gave Betty that opportunity, wasn't anticipating on her bringing a friend, he also didn't have anything with him but like his wallet and keys you can't seriously expect him to go to another country with no luggage, no plane ticket, no money, no nothing. A whole part of Fionna's character arc is realizing that life's not a fairy tale, she was expecting something out of a romance novel and got a story straight from reality. Realistically the two options were for Betty to stay or to leave Simon. And I don't think her giving up her trip to Australia was a sacrifice, because there were other trips and opportunities after that, she traded that one trip for an entire lifetime of them, (or at least it would have been if war didn't break out)

And if you're gonna call Betty impulsive, call her impulsive because she went on a trip around the world with a man she had never met, not because she walked through a creek barefoot lmfao.

I'm not saying that Simon and Betty were perfect but there are other reasons to criticize them.

As for the actual problems with there relationship, none of them are their fault. Betty going literally crazy trying to bring Simon back was because of Magic Man and Patience fucking with her brain, a human being cannot handle the amount of magic she was given and it drove her to insanity. And Simon now, with risking everything to bring her back, she's literally fused with a chaos god and is going to live for eternity in that state, did you ever think maybe he wants to get her out of that for her sake? That maybe he wants closure and to say goodbye? Since he never got that chance. No it's not healthy for Simon to drive himself as far as he did to bring her back, but Jesus fucking Christ can you blame him for not wanting his fiance to suffer for literal eternity? They don't need to break up, they need therapy. I don't think their relationship pre-mushroom war was unhealthy, and I don't think it ever would have been unhealthy without Betty becoming Magic Betty.

Their relationship flaws are more so their own individual flaws that have bled into their relationship as opposed to ones caused by the relationship itself, that's an important distinction you have to see.

[myjisung]

stray kids : how they would act when jealous !

content. skz ot8, gn!reader, jealousy, established relationship, healthy dynamics ( or at least i think so ) — angst & fluff.

warning. none

wordcount. 1,1k

a/n. part two of this post i made last year :-)

bang chan ( 방찬 )

he would be annoyed but, even if you tried, you would not even be able to tell. chan is one to find his jealousy bothersome and sometimes a shameful. though it barely happens—chan is pretty secure in your relationship—he cannot help but get too far in his own head sometimes.

as confident as he would like to appear to you, some insecurities remain at the back of his mind and they double in size whenever someone expresses any kind of romantic interest toward you. he is flattered, of course, yet he still gets himself to the point of overthinking and would start comparing himself to that other person.

there is one thing that helps him get over his jealousy. however, he tries not to get to the point where he needs it because it makes him feel small. yet, sometimes, he just has to do it. chan would need reassurance to get over it.

lee know ( 리노 )

when minho feels jealous, you simply would not even see him until he gets over his own feelings. it happens from time to time and you most definitely recognize the pattern. everytime he gets in his own head, minho would step out—maybe go on a walk or a random errand to get away for a bit and find a way to make his jealousy stop. these outings range from one hour to three hours long, depending on how awful he feels.

you would not hear from him until he has gotten rid of his jealous feelings. minho would not talk about it on his own but if you were to question him, he would tell you pretty much anything you were curious about. from what made him feel this way to whether or not he was angry, minho is not shy to let you know.

"i'm not angry. rather i'm feeling sorry because i didn't tell you about this earlier. just needed some time to not feel terrible anymore, that's it."

changbin ( 창빈 )

though the type to adress any issue immediately, changbin turns silent when he feels jealous. he cannot help it, he would rather zip it than say something he does not mean. instead, changbin keeps it down and gives himself space to process his feelings and reason them.

he is confident, he does not feel threatened or anything of the sort. he just hates feeling this way. he finds jealousy ugly on him and would do anything to get rid of it before you figured out what had gotten to him.

if you were to adress it however, changbin is quick to admit he is feeling jealous. actually, talking about it helps tremendously. he would still be quiet after you both had a conversation and you assured him that nothing was going on but, he feels better and will come around to it.

hyunjin ( 현진 )

oh he is pissed. not at you, he would never, hyunjin knows his jealousy is no one's responsibility but his own. he works through it by himself but if it were to happen in public, he would not be able to hide it from his face.

if some guy were to approach you despite hyunjin having his arm lazily wrapped around your waist, he would 100% be glaring at him. hyunjin is a pro at throwing nasty looks and he would not shy away from doing it. if the same guy were to insist on trying to chat you up, hyunjin might speak up ( with a smile, of course ). he trusts you and he knows he barely has anything to worry about but, it's the audacity of some people that would get to him.

"look buddy, they're too polite to say anything but they're not interested. how about you get lost somewhere?"

han ( 한 )

the type to get a little snappy. jisung knows it's bad and he never means to turn that way yet he does. it's not like he gets jealous that often either but when he does, it overwhelms him so much he tends to let it control his mouth a little. because of that, jisung would tend to distance himself and stay quiet when he feels that way.

the type to drown himself in work or one of his hobbies so he does not have to think about it. if you were to come find him and try to make him talk about what was going on, jisung would shut you down very quickly and regret it instantly.

"listen, i'm sorry. it's just. i've got a lot on my mind and- it's nothing you did or- it's just. i've got to deal with it on my own."

felix ( 필릭스 )

casually jealous guy. felix knows it's silly to feel the way he does, which is why he often manages to talk himself out of it without much trouble. sometimes, however, it's a little much and he tends to internalize it. felix would be a little moody but simply pout and sigh a lot.

he is very obvious about it too but believes it's not the case. so, whenever you ask him whether something is wrong he would be genuinely surprised.

"what do you mean? everything is fine and dandy..."

"yeah you're not fooling me with the 'dandy' thing, you only ever say that when you're jealous."

"well he commented on your post again and he's being super weird!! not my fault."

seungmin ( 승민 )

suuuuuuuper crabby! it's almost ridiculous. what's even worse is that seungmin would pretend all is well but still keep his answers as short as possible and not reciprocate any of your silliness—and boy is that worrying. seungmin knows it's bad to act this way and he also knows he is better than this but sometimes, his feelings get the best of him.

once he is better however, he would immediately apologize. seungmin would not keep on pretending he is fine and would tell you he was dealing with big feelings. he might not admit to feeling jealous let alone tell you why that was. however, he would say sorry and definitely make it up to you.

i.n ( 아이엔 )

jeongin does not know what to do with his jealousy. the feelings consume him slowly and give him a stomach ache. the word JEALOUS would be written all over his face in big bold letters yet, for his sake, you would pretend not to be aware. you know jeongin is self conscious about how often he gets jealous and would rather you do not see it.

if you were to be honest, however, he is too obvious about it. jeongin's eyebrows would be knitted in worry and his lips pursed in a pout he kept trying to erase from his face. not only that, jeongin gets clingy. he's holding your hand and hugging you tighter than usual all while breathing loudly and sighing every few minutes. you do not point it out and he is thankful for it. a few hours later jeongin is ready to go again, jealousy long forgotten.

taglist. @l3visbby — let me know if you would like to be added / removed.

© myjisung. please do not copy, translate, repost or claim my work as your own.

[nekropsii]

More Reminders:

Karkat is a bootlicker. This is a prominent character trait. He’s rooting for the Alternian empire- yes, even though it’s ruled by a system that wants him personally dead- and really wants to be a part of its military.

Eridan has a “genocide complex” and is able to be roughly described as the troll equivalent of a white supremacist. This is one of the first things we learn about him.

The Beta Trolls are 13. All of them. This includes Equius. This includes Eridan. This includes Vriska. This includes Gamzee.

99% of Gamzee’s character is racial caricature. No, he is not intended to be a Dionysus parallel. He is intended to be a “satirization” of Black people.

Sapphic pairings have always held precedent over MLM pairings. They’ve always been more important to the plot, been handled with much more grace, and had more screen time. This isn’t a bad thing.

Doc Scratch is a child predator. This is an incredibly prominent character trait of his, and you’re way past due for a reread if you’ve forgotten. He has a particular fixation on, as canon puts it, “little girls”, and targets both Rose and Kanaya. Do I even have to bring up what he did to Damara?

Regarding the previous point, Rose and Kanaya both get very traumatized during the course of Homestuck’s story. They’re not well put together sophisticated “mom friends”, they’re 13 year olds just like almost everyone else is, and they’re going through hell. Rose in particular makes the effect all of this trauma has on her very well known. This is what Grimdarkness is.

Cronus is a child predator, too. During the course of the Openbounds and Ministrife, we see him unabashedly predate on three specific kids, and this behavior is made out to be extremely creepy. These three kids are Karkat, Tavros, and, yes, Eridan.

The Exiles were incredibly important to the plot, actually. You guys are just mean.

Almost every relationship in Homestuck is flawed in some capacity, that’s the point of a tragic drama. The main cast is literally nothing but traumatized and/or mentally ill 13-16 year olds. A good chunk of them aren’t even socialized, or grew up in an actively hostile environment. Or both. No shit characters mess up sometimes, or have unhealthy behaviors- it’s just natural in that situation. Some dynamics are substantially more healthy than others, but the main appeal of Homestuck is that everyone is flawed and damaged.

A good majority of Vriscourse was just people leaping at the opportunity to express pure, unabashed misogyny. I don’t think I have to elaborate upon this.

No, Jane is not a fascist, nor is she racist. She’s never been either of these things, that’s something that was invented out of left field by the Post Canon writing team. Being a fascistic racist was never within the scope of Jane’s character. No, it being “a result of her having grown up being fed propaganda by The Condesce” does not explain that plot thread in Post Canon for a single second, because Jane experiencing a major personality shift because of HIC literally already happened in canon with her going Crockertier, and she came out of that a stronger person. Never once has “racism” been on the list of problems she has.

Hemoloyalty is not intended to be a 1:1 metaphor for racism, nor is it intended to be a 1:1 metaphor for classism, or any other type of oppression. It’s not a 1:1 metaphor for literally anything, it’s intended to be flexible and contextual. This is not a bad thing, and is, in fact, a common storytelling method used by a lot of fantasy/sci-fi writers. Condemning Hussie for a lot of things in their writing is valid, but Hemoloyalty not being strictly analogous to only one type of real world oppression is patently not one of them. You do not know how metaphors work.

Official =/= Canon. No one is calling Pesterquest canon. You really shouldn’t be doing the same for Post Canon. The Homestuck Epilogues and Homestuck^2 are Official, but they are definitively not Canon. This is literally the first thing you learn about either of these projects. This doesn’t invalidate anyone’s enjoyment of any of these properties, of course, but it has to be stressed: Official does not automatically mean Canon.

[bri-cheeses]

Fiercely and obsessively (wrapped around your finger) — Part 4

| Rosekiller Soulmate AU | Previous part is here | Word Count: 716 |

-

Evan had been acting weird. Speaking in short sentences, avoiding eye contact, and finding excuses to be busy had all cultivated into some big, terrible behavior of Evan’s that was driving Barty up a wall. It had started with Evan and Regulus’s conversation in the library, but it had gotten steadily worse ever since then. And now, two days before Evan’s birthday, Evan was fully avoiding him.

Maybe some people would call it healthy, this step back from complete codependency, but it just left Barty feeling off-kilter, like a ship without an anchor. Without Evan, things were less bright, somehow, and had turned into something lackluster and dull.

The way things had been before this past week were undoubtedly better—Evan catching his eye after a teacher had done something stupid, or them racing through the halls together, or them sitting in the common room, all tangled up in one another as usual. That was how they were supposed to be, Barty-and-Evan, not Barty and oh look at that, Evan just happened to be standing beside him. That was just wrong.

So yes, it was safe to say that this new dynamic between them absolutely sucked.

And so Barty was going to do something about it.

“Pandora!” he called, stopping the blonde-haired girl in her tracks. She tuned around, and in the dim lighting of the corridor, her eyes looked just like Evan’s—blue eyes flecked with dark spots. They were magical.

“What is it, Barty?” she asked, and while their eyes and hair were the same, their voices were complete opposites. Evan’s was flat and somewhat toneless, while Pandora always spoke with an airy lilt in her voice.

It was the harsh reality check Barty needed, because the similarities between the two had gotten him lost in his worry of Evan’s recent behavior. He shook his head and focused at the task at hand.

“Evan’s been avoiding me,” he said. He sounded kind of despondent, which was an accurate representation of how he felt about the entire situation. Pandora nodded in understanding.

“Ah, yes, I thought that might happen.”

Wait. She had expected this to happen? Surely there was some logical reason behind Evan’s actions, then, if she had predicted this.

But Pandora didn’t say anything more, instead just standing in silence and staring at Barty as if waiting for him for speak.

And so, when she didn’t offer any further explanation, Barty was forced to push on.

“Why did you expect that? And how do I get him to stop doing that?”

There was a second of silence where it seemed like Pandora was content to just say nothing, and Barty opened his mouth once more. Luckily, she started talking before he had to ask again.

“Well,” Pandora began, “I know that he’s been worried about his soulmate mark. He wouldn’t ever tell you that, but it’s true. And since there are only two days until our birthday, he’s getting more and more stressed about it.”

He needed a second to digest that.

“Okay, so…” Barty thought out loud, the pieces not making much sense at all, “he’s avoiding me because of that?”

“Pretty much,” Pandora confirmed.

And wasn’t that odd? Barty didn’t have anything to do with Evan’s soulmate mark, so why on earth was he deciding that it was a good idea to withdraw from his closest friend? It just didn’t make sense.

But he didn’t have to understand it. He just needed to know how to fix it.

“Sure,” he lied. “Makes sense. But how do I get him to stop avoiding me?”

Pandora thought on that for a moment, her long earrings swaying as she tilted her head in consideration.

“I think,” she said slowly, after a long pause, “you probably just need to confront him on it. Don’t demand answers or anything, just make it obvious that you’ve noticed and that you’re upset that he’s doing it. I’ll think he’ll come around after that.”

“And if that doesn’t work?”

Pandora shrugged. “Then you’ll have to wait a couple of days, until our birthday has passed.”

And then she skipped off down the rest of the hall, leaving Barty in her wake.

Two days. Two days he would end up going without Evan if he didn’t get this right.

-

(Part 5 is here)

[staranon95]

in which Astarion fiddles with Halsin's hair

(for @saltsprite <3 which spurred out of a longer conversation about the dynamics of Astarion and Halsin and one thing turned into another and now we have this lol)

"When I first saw you, I had always thought something was missing. And then seeing you among your kin, I had realized what it was. Your hair was shorter than theirs."

Halsin chuckles under his breath. "I would not have guessed that as being the distinction that sets me apart. Most comment on my size and appearance."

"That too," Astarion remarks, reclining ever further into the chaise lounge as Halsin stokes the fire on his knees, his hair framing his shoulders, cut roughly by a blade and not at all carefully tailored. Very much an elf of nature, rough and unkempt.

"It has been many, many years since I've let my hair grow," Halsin says as he sits back and retains his previous position, back resting upon the lounge so that he might tilt his head back against Astarion's thigh. "In truth, I got used to shearing it when it became too long. It was easier, neater in fact as I tended to the cursed lands. There wasn't much time for vanity then."

Astarion hums and works his fingers into the small side braids tucked behind Halsin's ears, teasing them apart as he might an unruly stitch that had yet to be mended.

"And what if I asked you to grow it out?" Astarion says. "What then? What might you say?"

"I might wonder what it is you are planning."

"Oh, nothing as devious as you might imagine, dear, I just think it would do wonders for your countenance. Distinguish you as the elder you are becoming."

Halsin hums and closes his eyes, but then his lips tilt into a smirk as Astarion grabs a handful of auburn hair, pulls just a bit until Halsin is sure to feel it against his scalp. "There was a time," he says, "that I grew my hair long. And a time when I could not cut it. Was forbade from it." He opens his eyes, his gaze fixed somewhere up at the ceiling. He is not pained by recalling such a distressing memory, but Astarion sees the shadows of it even now. "It was part of my allure, and perhaps I was a vain thing in my youth."

"Weren't we all," Astarion says softly.

Halsin hums and turns his head inwards as Astarion slides his hand down for Halsin to press a tender kiss to his palm.

"You would've liked me then," Halsin says. "Just another wood elf, at one with nature."

"Hard to believe with what I know of you."

"I was less tempered then. At the festivals, I would dance and preen under the attention of those I held affections for. I thought if I looked a certain way, showed them my charms and wiles that they might take me under their wing. And a few did take me up on my offer, but I wanted more from them, to be the only thing for them and I suppose in my wanting, it took me far away from home."

Astarion threads his fingers through Halsin's hair, now loose and unbound. He could use a good trim, to neaten out the ends and cut away the splits. Let it grow healthy and long once more. Twist it into a rope and use it to haul Halsin back to him--as he knows Halsin would enjoy if it came from a person he trusted.

"They did not appreciate you the way I would have," Astarion remarks. "A thing like you must be appreciated, not caged and cornered. They wished you for selfish desires."

"Oh, and you do not?" Halsin smirks.

"I am as selfish as any other spawn." He tucks a strand of hair around the high tip of Halsin's ear, the scars of old piercings running up the length of it, and that begs another question. Was that a choice he wished for or not? How much would he be willing to change of himself for Astarion's desires?

"But for you," Astarion says, "I would see you grow it long. I would see it oiled, perfumed, and braided under my care. To see you go out and tend to your orphans."

Halsin laughs. "You speak of them as if they are like chickens."

"They cluck after you, do they not? I would see you grow your hair long as you used to. I would like to see that vain and wild thing you once were."

Halsin hums. "There are those who tried to tame me then. I wouldn't say they succeeded."

"Then I will succeed where others have rightfully failed. They didn't appreciate you. Not like I will."

Halsin rises up, bringing a hand to cup the back of Astarion's head and capture his lips in but a tender kiss, a promise of more. "I am always at your service, Astarion."

[magenta-embers]

My Jikook Journey

Part 2 of my intro.

From "multi-shipper" to "...wait a goddamn minute."

This will be a messy and detail-lacking overview because I could easily do an individual post on each thing I mention here and delve deeper (AMA!).

When I became an ARMY in 2018, I was excited about the treasure trove of fanfics now available to me. The ship didn't really matter, but my bias was/is Jimin (bias wrecker Tae then) so the very first fic I read was a vmin camping one (there was only one sleeping bag, gasp!). For me, shipping meant I'd read fanfics or save fanart of certain pairs together because in a fictional sense/in another universe, they make a good couple. I think this is a healthy approach, keeping that boundary between reality and fiction.

When I mentioned to my k-pop fan step-sister that I was reading vmin, she gave me a weird look. She said taekook is THE ship of BTS, which confused me because vmin seemed to be closer and have better chemistry than Tae and JK. Turns out, she was right. Searching by most kudos on ao3, you get a shit ton of taekook. I accepted it readily and just thought I must be missing something since I was a baby ARMY, so I read those super popular fics and started to enjoy taekook too. I started to focus more on them because... it felt like that was what I was supposed to do.

It's a common problem, isn't it? Baby ARMY who are open to shipping are quickly found and "guided" to taekook before they have a chance to glance in another direction. If they try, taekookers, who are the majority in the shipping sphere, will convince them that taekook is THE ship. Even if they aren't ARMY (my step-sister), they know that much. As a new fan, you just want to fit in, so you'll go along with what's most popular. Some people eventually find their own way, but many don't. Asking questions is vital, but if you do it aloud, you risk getting attacked by a small but extremely aggressive portion of the most infamous fanbase.

Even back then while just innocently reading any well-written fic I could get my hands on, I noticed that Jungkook was usually portrayed as a lot edgier and darker than he really was (manifested the 2023 JK aesthetic) and Taehyung was constantly portrayed as... Jimin. Especially in fan art. For some reason, a lot of the time, the appearance/vibe/personality of Taehyung was truer to Jimin than to himself, and that confused me. "Why not just make it Jungkook x Jimin?" I kept seeing them trying to force Taehyung into the dynamic that Jimin has with Jungkook when their own dynamic was perfectly fine.

Slipping down the pipeline, I started to watch taekook moments/analysis videos because I thought gotta be missing something, right? That's how I found out people are convinced they're dating, and it wasn't just a fun fic/art thing. The videos themselves were... something. There were just way too many red circles, too much slow-mo, and too much mind-reading going on for me to take any of it seriously. Plus, the moments that weren't exaggerated were just close friend skinship. Hell, Taejin were doing more sus shit together than taekook.

And yet people insist on taekook even when taekook do nothing to insist on themselves.

At this point, it was deep into 2019. Jikook were wilding in 2019. Even I was noticing all the... little things that made me raise an eyebrow. The touches that lingered just too long in rather intimate areas, the fond/awed looks at each other, the shameless flirting, the complete lack of physical boundaries, and the normalness of it all between them. That's telling. Even though I was mainly a taekooker with a shit ton of fanart and fics saved to my phone, if you looked at my liked YouTube videos around that time, I had jikook moments videos saved, not taekook, because their moments were just more fun/juicier to watch overall. They just interacted differently than they did with other members.

A quick example would be a video compilation of taekook holding hands. Sure, they're holding hands, maybe even interlocking fingers, but they're usually standing side by side and looking in different directions or just having a neutral expression. But if you watch a jikook one, not only is it much longer, but it's just different. I feel like I'm interrupting sometimes. Even in such a simple action like holding hands, there's a softness, an intimacy there that doesn't exist in taekook. Jikook wouldn't just be holding hands (usually for absolutely no reason), they'd be looking into each other's eyes, smiling sweetly, fully turned toward each other, attention completely captured by the other. How can I explain the look in their eyes? It just doesn't exist with vmin, yoonmin, jihope, etc.

Sidebar: All of those pairs have flirty/sus moments as most really close friendship dynamics do, but they're lighthearted to me and never invoked a true sense of.... whoa whoa whoa, hang on. If Jungkook and Jimin were my close friends IRL and I saw the way they are together, my alarms would go off. As either, "Oh my god, they're fucking," or "Oh my god, they wanna fuck each other." People always say, "Oh, Jimin's like that with everyone." No. No, he's not. Pay attention. Really pay attention to the differences in the dynamics between members. None of them have the "same" relationship. Especially pay attention to how the rest of the members react to Jikook.

Anyway,

So here I was noticing this... deeper intimacy in simple interactions with those two (because I'm a human being with eyes and life experience), and yet my Twitter timeline would just dismiss them entirely. "I love their friendship," "Wow their brotherhood is so beautiful," and "They're all so close," and normally these statements wouldn't bother me because technically they're true, but I started noticing that taekook or yoonmin would brush shoulders and everyone would be like, "Omg taekook/yoonmin married/boyfriends/real," over nothing. Their moments are cute/sweet/funny, but never more than that. The blatant hypocrisy did frustrate me a little, but ultimately I didn't overthink it; I didn't want to be delulu or look too deeply into anything because I still thought I must be missing something. Taekook is the most popular for a reason, right? Right?

But Taekook died for me when Tae told Taekookers to get out of their imagination. I respected that from him and took it at face value. It was the most aggressive shutdown of shipping we've ever had. I couldn't brush him off. It's disrespectful. He's uncomfortable.

Meanwhile, over the next couple of years, Jungkook and Jimin only got more suspicious in the minor interactions and in the big staple moments. Rosebowl. Hickeygate. Etc. Everyone was bending over backward trying to explain away the things these two did with each other, and it's always the same excuses. I was also trying extremely hard to think of any reason other than the simplest one because I didn't want to be delulu.

Because there was no way two members of a boyband were actually in a long-term relationship together. Especially in a conservative country.

Ridiculous. Unrealistic. Delulu.

I was basically telling myself in a mirror that they were just extra super duper close friends with muddy boundaries that meant sucking ears and giving neck hickeys was okay. I did allow there to be the thought that, maybe they're friends with benefits and that unavoidable intimacy now bleeds through into their regular interactions.

That opinion carried until 2023.

Isn't that funny?

2023.

The year so many jikookers gave up and bemoaned that those two weren't close anymore or had broken up is the year that finally convinced me.

What tipped me over?

Jungkook's vlives.

The way he kept watching videos of Jimin when he could just phone him. It reminded me of me watching Jimin, but I'm just a fan; I watch those videos because it's the only way I can appease my yearning to be close to and connected to Jimin, and absorb everything that he does or says or is.

Jungkook doesn't have that limitation, so why's he sitting there like a lovesick puppy with the fondest/most loving eyes when he could have Jimin over with just a call? Why's he sitting there looking like he's also yearning for something he can't have like us, the fans, when he can have it? He has Jimin's number. You don't need to watch yourself tease Jimin. You can just go do it. Just text him, bro.

It felt like he just wanted to bask in Jimin without interruption, without distraction, without having to force his attention elsewhere. Beyond being incredibly sweet, it also felt like Jungkook was making a statement, a point, because he kept doing it. Why? Is he somehow obsessed with his friend and bandmate whom he's seen almost every day for over a decade? If it was to promote him, he really didn't have to do all that? He didn't do it for the others, not to that extent.

Watching Jimin, talking about Jimin, singing Jimin's songs, fkn playing Letter on guitar. (The naked vlive flirting session? Lord, what.)

The man kept having vlives with a significant Jimin focus. He insisted on it enough times that it felt like he was trying to slap some sense into me. His insistence bothered me enough for me to finally do a deep dive into jikook.

Down the rabbit hole, I went. The more I learned, the more my jaw dropped. Where the fuck was all this info on my timeline when these motherfuckers were celebrating the most basic kpop boy interactions as if they were wedding vows? I even ended up seeing pictures/info we as fans were never meant to see at the bottom of that hole. If you know, you know.

Eventually, I ended up on this video (bless this fucking channel).

I want everyone to understand that I had zero knowledge of established relationship timeline theories. I went into this video blind, just trying to find the point in time when JK started to warm up to Jimin. That's not what I found. I found something so much better.

Especially 2013-2015 had me in awe. I think I cried. Jimin and Jungkook had a fattest, cutest mutual crush on each other. Absolutely. And because they were young, not that famous, and still rookies with media and camera training, we get a lot of insight into those two that we wouldn't get in later years when they learned how to mask and behave more "idol"-like. Jimin was especially loud, almost sadly loud. If you haven't watched the timeline of at least those early years, I implore you to. It actually blew my mind and broke/healed my heart. It's really bittersweet to see two teenage boys with little to no experience in anything romantic trying to come to terms with themselves while also coming to terms with each other. It's like watching a coming-of-age romance movie.

I saw clear shifts from when the relationship hit turning points in certain years. I proposed a timeline in my head based on that. Imagine my fucking surprise when I found out other people have also come up with timelines, and more surprising yet, they were all unbelievably similar to mine, down to what changed in what half of the year. I, who had no previous knowledge that this was even a thing. I just noticed it all on my own. We were all seeing the same thing. The same changes. No red circles, no slow-mo, no mind reading. It's all in the body language.

I panicked a little because overall it seemed too good to be true, so I reached out to a taekooker friend to send me her best evidence videos and receipts because I just had to make sure I wasn't going totally delulu here. I needed to see that the other biggest ship had interactions and moments on the same level with that same consistency, maybe even their very own relationship timeline to bring me back down to Earth. But... there's nothing. Really, there's nothing between taekook. Not one moment where I was like, oh? You'll find hours-long jikook content videos that are absolutely jam-packed with content, significant content, but that sort of depth just doesn't exist for taekook. Instead, you get conspiracy theories.

I watched most of the videos on that best of jikook channel and several other staple channels. It wasn't as if I bought into everything presented. I still rolled my eyes at many things that were blown out of proportion by some creators, and jikook isn't free from red circles and slow-mo and bullshit. And yet, I was still overwhelmed by the mountain of crisp receipts dumped on my head.

Jikook have much, much more solid evidence supporting the theory that they are together than evidence against it. I took the facts as they are, took my social experiences for what they are, took my psychology background for what it is, and concluded that they are most likely together, probability-wise. At the very least, they are the ONLY pair in BTS that have ANY legitimate possibility of being romantically involved. If jikook isn't real, then none of the other ships have any hope whatsoever, let's not kid ourselves. It's them or none of them.

They also have much, much more evidence that they are together than with any random man or woman you wanna throw at them. There needs to be valuable evidence or a total shutdown for me to tip the scale. I'm going to need Jimin or Jungkook to state, "I am not dating anyone at all," or "Get out of your imagination," or a bighit relationship announcement, or a clear video of lip-on-lip action or very intimate interaction with someone else.

Frankly, I don't give a single fuck about a grainy pic/video when it's 2023 and there's no excuse for that. I don't give a fuck who owns the same vase or cooking pots. I don't give a fuck if either of them hugged a woman. These are not evidence. These aren't even as good as the worst Jikook evidence.

At this point in time, Jikook is still the only viable option with the information we currently have available to us. This is my opinion and I stand by it.

At the end of the day, the thing I want most is for Jimin to be happy. Currently, it seems that Jungkook makes Jimin the happiest (as Jungkook says). As long as that holds true, I'll be here. If that changes at some point in time, I'd accept it.

But until that day comes, what the fuck else am I supposed to think?

E.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for seeking out my ex to apologise to them?

For context, I had a long term (over 6 years) relationship with someone when I was younger (i was 21 and they were 20 at the time of our breakup, both nonbinary). They asked me out when we were both barely even teenagers, and in a way we grew up together. They were a great partner, and we were both very dedicated to each other. However I went through a lot of mental health struggles while we were together including a lot of suicidal ideation and some attempts, and eventually they asked to break up as they felt our relationship was becoming stressful for them and that I was relying on them too much/being too codependent.

At the time I was a little confused and upset, but I had always clearly made it a condition of our relationship that either of us could leave if we wanted to and had no obligation to stay. So in the end our breakup was pretty amiable, just sad, and we went our separate ways. In hindsight, our relationship was definitely unhealthy for both of us, and my mental health has ironically improved a huge amount since we broke up. So they were 100% right about it not being healthy, and I have nothing but respect for them.

In the years since, I have often felt guilty about how I treated them and wished I could make up for it/take back how I behaved. I never tried to hurt them on purpose but I would vent to them constantly without considering how they felt, and in general I think I took them for granted and would treat them more like a therapist than a partner, when they had their own issues too and I should have never made them feel responsible for mine like that. Neither of us were perfect, but I feel I definitely hold a lot of the blame for how things ended up. I don't think I had the emotional maturity at the time to realise how unhealthy our dynamic had become, whereas they did, and I think both of our lives have become better as a result of us breaking up.

It's been a couple of years since we broke up. They haven't changed any of their social media usernames or blocked me etc, so I could still reach out to them if I wanted to without having to block evade or anything weird like that. Part of me really wants to send them some kind of apology or something, so that they know they're a good person who did the right thing and that I'm sorry for my past behaviour.

However, part of me also recognises that I probably represent a dark period in their life, and that they likely just want to move on and forget about me. For this reason, I worry that apologising would be a selfish move on my part to just assuage my own feelings of guilt, but would only serve to stress/creep them out or hurt them further, which is the last thing I would want to do.

So, would I be the asshole for reaching out to them to apologise? Is it better to leave things alone, or would it be helpful for them/give them closure to hear an apology from me? It would be really helpful to hear people's perspectives on this, especially people who have been on the "other side" of a situation like this.

[eunseoksimp]

Hi! Can you write jealous reader x Sungchan (could be same y/n from poison)

You writing is so good !!x

hey anon, thank you so much for your kind words. i wrote a completely different reader because all my poison creative juices have been exhausted, i hope you don’t mind.

i also low-key got carried away with the insanity, this might be a step further than simple jealousy whoops.

.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ .

it wasn’t a hidden fact that the bounds of your jealousy did not mirror those of a normal person.

you found that you tended to like people a lot more passionately than others, but you assumed it was overall a healthy amount of course, the type that any person might feel when they liked someone.

that was until you met jung sungchan.

you weren’t sure what it was about him that induced a scary amount of rage every time you saw him draw near to another girl.

you had no right to dictate who he could and couldn’t speak to, because the truth was that the relationship between you and sungchan was complicated.

you couldn’t exactly call each other lovers, but the things that you both did was nothing becoming of friends. so you were stuck in a weird sort of limbo, forced to ramble to your best friends and hope it would alleviate the burning flame that resided in your chest.

‘i don’t get it. it’s not like the both of you are dating, so why do you care that he’s around other girls?’ wonbin spoke up, tossing another skittle into his mouth successfully.

‘she likes him stupid, why else would she feel this way?’ chaewon, who was resting her head on her shoulder had her eyes closed, almost as if she was sleeping, but you knew she was listening.

‘my point is, if you like him why don’t you tell him that?’

you loved wonbin, you really did, but sometimes you wondered how someone so pretty could be so empty headed. he often was unable to pick up on context clues and you thanked god that chaewon was always with you, otherwise you might go crazy.

‘i don’t want to ruin our friendship. what if i lose him forever.’

‘i’m pretty sure your so called friendship was ruined the moment you both decided to fuck like rabbits,’ you lifted your head to give wonbin the middle finger, but quickly dropped it as you sighed.

a drunken night at a party is what led to the situation you were in. at the time you were sure that it was nothing more than sex, and given that the both of you were best friends and trusted each other more than anything, you decided on keeping a friends with benefits dynamic.

it was great at first, being able to sleep with someone without having to worry about feelings, or inviting strangers into your home and your body. sungchan was such a gentleman, looking after you in and out of the bedroom.

when you fucked, it was magical. he was always more concerned with your pleasure than he was his, drawing orgasm after orgasm out of your first before he would finally retire for the night, satisfied that you enjoyed yourself.

eventually, you found yourself craving intimacy outside of the bedroom, and it wasn’t uncommon for him to stay over after to cuddle, or to make the both of you a quick meal.

before you knew it, you started to become dependent on sungchan, needing him nearby at all times, wanting to be the only one he touched, or the only one he looked at. there was a desperate desire for him to be with you forever, and you thrived off of the feelings you got whenever he touched you.

‘i hate that he talks to other girls. it makes me want to hurt them,’ you confessed, truthfully, because you felt like you could trust your friends.

for the first time since you had started your conversation, chaewon’s eyes opened, scrambling to hold your head in her hands as she stared directly at yours.

‘you’re joking. right?’ a part of him knew the answer to that question, chuckling nervously as he observed you.

‘she’s not. that’s the scary part.’

lately it felt like your feelings for sungchan were bordering on obsession. you relied on him heavily for emotional support, seeking attention and validation from him in everything you did.

he had the ability to make or break your day, and you realised that as dangerous as it was, you placed the responsibility of your happiness onto him. depending on when he paid attention to you he could make you feel like you were on top of the world, or in the deepest pits of hell.

‘why is it so serious in here,’ sungchan walked into a tension-filled room, duffle bag slung over his shoulder, hood covering his messy hair.

chaewon moved away to make room for him and wonbin cleared his throat, but you paid no attention to them both, a wide smile forming on your face as you looked at the man you were in love with, even without trying he was beautiful, the ability to take your breath away something that came so easy to him.

‘hey,’ he was standing in front of you, crouching down till you were eye level, his smile mirroring yours as he messed with your hair. there was no way he couldn’t feel the intense connection between the both of you, how perfect you both were for each other.

‘where were you?’

‘karina needed some help so i stayed behind. she got me some coffee to thank me,’ he was nonchalant in what he was saying, but you furrowed your eyebrows at the pink that faintly painted his cheeks.

‘you’ve been spending a lot of time with karina lately,’ you dug your fingernails into your palm, hating the mention of her name.

karina, or yu jimin as written on her birth certificate, was the evil bitch trying to keep you away from sungchan. ever since they started sharing some classes together she had been hanging around him more and more, like a fly hovering over him so persistently.

you recall moments where sungchan would cancel your movie nights, or invite her out when your group would go to the cinema together, or even eat. it drove you mad, watching her flip her hair over her shoulder, flashing him a smile as she playfully pushed his shoulder.

each time your stomach would turn and it would make you want to throw up on the spot. why was she trying to steal your favourite person?

‘i actually wanted to tell you guys something. i-um, we’re going on a date this saturday,’ his eyes darted towards yours and you chew on your bottom lip, afraid to allow your thoughts to spill out.

you were sure he felt the same way you did. he had to with the way he looked at you. he wouldn’t be able to fuck you so good if he didn’t.

so why did he need another girl? what did karina have that you didn’t? how desperately did she push up on sungchan to get him to fall for her.

‘i have to go,’ you stood up abruptly, grabbing your things from beside you and making a beeline for the door, suddenly feeling the room close in on you. you could hear sungchan’s hurried footsteps coming after you, but it only made you want to go faster.

‘please slow down, i need to know if you’re okay,’ he finally succeeded in grabbing a hold of you, chest rising and falling as he caught his breath for a couple of seconds.

‘do you love her,’ your voice was quiet, barely above a whisper as you looked at him expectantly, awaiting his answer.

‘love? what no, i barely know her.’

‘then why are you taking her out?’ a tear spilled down your cheek, but you refused to make an attempt to wipe it.

‘i just- i like her i think,’ you could tell he was trying his hardest not to hurt your feelings, but it only made your heart ache more. how could someone so sweet, someone so caring, want to be with karina and not with you?

how could you carry on knowing the one you love unconditionally, the one that you go to for everything, the one who helped you breathe, was thinking about another girl.

it was hard to hear, to see that his whole world did not revolve around you, like yours did around his. that not hearing from him made you anxious and paranoid that he would one day abandon you.

‘i still want us to be friends, you mean so much to me,’ he was sincere in his words, but your ears were ringing as you thought about the date he would be on with that girl tomorrow.

it left a bitter taste in your mouth, and the rational part of your mind would tell you to see this as a sign to move on, to look for someone else who would love you the way you wanted.

but the loss of sungchan was just too much to bear, so much so that you would do anything to keep him.

this was why you spent the rest of your night stalking through her instagram pages, seeing her likes and dislikes, her personal style.

it was why you were haphazardly dying your hair blonde, having only the tiny mirror in your bathroom to guide you.

it was also why you desperately searched in your cupboard for clothes with the same cuts, or prints as her.

you were changing your self-identity slowly, lost in the hope that this would make sungchan return back to you.

maybe then he would like you.

and when you showed up to sungchan’s house, merely a few hours before he was meant to go on his date, you took the shock on his face to mean a good thing.

‘you look… different,’ his voice trailed off, carefully studying your features.

he was always so perceptive, you were sure he had figured things out by now. but that didn’t matter, as long as you could keep his attention on you for a little while longer.

a faint line between faith and blindly waiting.

[shegeekery]

Reparenting Loki

I want to talk about a dynamic in the Loki/Mobius relationship (in the Loki TV-series) that I've seen touched on but not really discussed in depth.

Note to Lokius-lovers: nothing I say here in any way precludes a healthy romantic relationship. They're both consenting adults, after all, and this wasn't a formal therapist-client relationship.

There's a technique in therapy called "reparenting". The idea is that trauma and behaviors caused by bad parenting can be addressed to some extent if the therapist assumes the role of a "good parent".

I think we can all agree that the "All-Father" was crap as an actual father. Odin knew that Loki took after him even more than Thor did, but many of those shared traits were things that he tried to hide from everyone, while Thor better represented the image he wanted to project. The result was a cruel favoritism, which was picked up by Thor and the rest of the Asgardians. Frigga's love and support wasn't enough to counteract that cruelty, particularly in a strongly patriarchal society like Asgard.

Side note (because I'm that kind of geek): there were so many similarities between Odin and Loki (Odin's friend and blood-brother rather than his son) in the old Norse myths that some scholars have suggested that Loki was at one point simply an aspect of Odin. There's also evidence that the stories as they came down to us were manipulated by the Christians who committed them to writing to shoehorn Loki into something more like the Christian Devil.

Anyway, getting back to our guys... Within the context of the TVA, Mobius represented an authority figure to Loki, who had a long history of rebelling against (or betraying) authority for obvious reasons.

I think the first turning point in the relationship for Loki was:

Loki: I am smart!

Mobius: I know. Loki is rarely left speechless, but his only response to Mobius's simple affirmation was a very un-Loki-like "Okay..." He didn't know how to respond because he wasn't used to that kind of thing, particularly from someone who had power over him. It happened again with:

Loki: A villain.

Mobius: That's not how I see it.

The dynamic between these two people throughout Season 1 was like that. Mobius's genuine love (whether you read it as romantic, platonic, fatherly, brotherly, or a mix of any or all of these) for and non-judgmental acceptance of Loki was apparent from the start, but of course Loki's experiences during his very long lifetime made it nearly impossible for him to trust that until Mobius's actions convinced him that it was real. Learning to trust Mobius also allowed Loki to see himself in a new light.

For his part, Mobius consistently modeled what a good father would have been: loving and accepting, yes, but still able to apply "tough love" when that was warranted. Mobius didn't put Loki into the bad-memory loop to punish him because he was angry (though he was angry, or at least a bit hurt and disappointed). He was just trying to force Loki to acknowledge a truth about himself so that they could move forward — and it worked!

Mobius's instincts and experience as an actual father to two boys, one reasonably well-behaved and the other a mischievous troublemaker, served him well in this, even if he didn't consciously remember his life on the timeline.

Mobius all but confirmed this when he said:

Mobius:  I see a scared little boy, shivering in the cold... 

It's also significant that when Loki brought this up later, he called it "patronizing", which we usually use to mean "condescending", but can also mean "supporting" and has its root in the Latin word "pater" (father).

I see the hug in episode 1-5 as a sign that the reparenting had taken hold, and that Loki, while not completely healed (it would take a lot more than that!), was at least in a place where he could trust someone, accept love/friendship, and think beyond his own wants and needs.

By Season 2, the relationship between the two men was evolving into one of equals, but even then Loki still occasionally looked to Mobius for guidance. Mobius's approval had become important to him. When Loki witnessed the firm but compassionate way in which Don dealt with two boys who were so like himself and Thor (despite being a stressed-out single dad rather than a god-king with tremendous resources at his disposal), he had to have seen that this was at the core of who Mobius was. Moreover, Loki — and any viewers who had similarly survived a traumatic childhood full of emotional abuse and neglect — probably guessed that Don himself was a survivor who was determined to see to it that his boys would never have to deal with that. If that was the case, then Mobius didn't just see his own son in Loki. He saw himself and couldn't help but empathize.

Don wasn't perfect. His frustration with his younger son was very evident, but Loki, observing, could see the love that lay under it. He may even have thought of times when Odin was driven to anger by Loki's actions and realized that the anger didn't necessarily mean that Odin didn't really love him. Learning to forgive what can be forgiven is another aspect of recovering from childhood trauma.

It's worth remembering that Mobius knew Loki in much the same way we do. We got to see the things that Loki never let anybody see: the fear, the vulnerability, the pain, the longing, and the sadness. (Doesn't hurt that TH can turn a simple reaction shot into a freakin' soliloquy!) The difference is that, while we only get to see the highlights (and lowlights) of Loki's life, Mobius had access to all of it and he had centuries to study it.

Mobius literally knew Loki better than anyone else in (or out) of the multiverse. How could he not love him? And for Loki, knowing that somebody who knew him that well genuinely cared so much for him (same with Sylvie, who understood him in ways that only another Loki could and vice-versa) had to have shaken him to his core and made him rethink a lot of things. The fact that it was Mobius to whom Loki turned in episode 2.6 when he thought he might have to kill Sylvie shows how much he still looked up to Mobius in many ways.

This was a show about redemption, yes, but also about healing from childhood trauma. They did an amazing job with it.