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lukesaprince · 7 months ago

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Ruin Me H.S

Summary: When the good girl / bad boy trope is just as hypnotic and addictive as everyone says it is OR y/n decides to get Harry's handwriting tattooed on her thigh (badboy/gang LHH trope?)

Warnings: SMUT!! oral (f receiving), edging, spanking (with hand and belt), hair pulling, squirting, masochism, dom!harry, mocking/degradation, dacryphilia, bondage (with a belt), Injuries (black eye, split lip, gunshot wound & wound cleanup)... I think that's it 😅

Word count: 13.7k+

Author's note: This is loosely and I mean SO loosely inspired by Guilty As Sin by Taylor Swift and yeah I know what that song is about but this is based off literally one line in it... I definitely got carried away with the story hehe

- Find my General Masterlist here -

You never liked the bad boy, good girl narrative. The power imbalance and toxicity that came with someone so ruined and so problematic trying to heal his soul in someone that deserved better. She would always think she could change him, that he was just misunderstood and needed someone to love him. That his soul could be healed.

It was bullshit. Until you found yourself in that exact situation, believing just that. That he was misunderstood and so kind underneath his rough exterior. You even found yourself loving the hidden hookups and midnight cleanups. A knock on your door at all hours in the night to be let in for some charged, desperate fuck or to be fixed up because he got in a fight.��

You didn’t even know how it started, really. Harry was an enigma. A shadow in the wind that appeared one moment and disappeared the next on a dark bike just as mysterious as he was. That was how you met him, in a fleeting moment which at the time meant nothing. Until it meant everything.

He drove by the cafe you worked at. You were closing up for the night and locking the door when the loud purr of his bike filled the entire street. You were already on edge being by yourself after the girl closing with you had to leave sick so your head whipped around to follow the loud noise.

That’s when you saw him for the first time. He drove through the quiet street with a girl on the back of his bike that you had never seen before, both dressed head to toe in dark clothing and leather. They each had a black helmet covering their heads and yet you still knew that they were both looking at you.

It was unnerving and an interaction that had you walking a lot faster to your car in case they circled back and decided to give you trouble. Your town was used to damaged, dangerous shadows. People like Harry who came in for a night or a weekend for something illicit, only to never return.

You weren’t sure why your small town attracted people like that, but only being a 45-minute drive from the closest big city made it the go-to place for affairs, romantic getaways, illegal meetings and everything in between.

Harry was meant to be like that too. Someone who just passed through. Until he met you.

The very next day he found himself visiting the cafe in hopes you were there. Harry wasn’t sure why he felt the need to go there since he was meant to be driving back to the city the morning after his rendezvous, but there was something about your eyes that he couldn’t get out of his head.

He didn’t even know if you’d be there and yet by some chance or fate, you were. Your back was towards him, busy on barista duty making coffees for the many customers waiting for their orders. He recognised your hair first; pulled back in two long braids down your back. You wore the cafe logo on your t-shirt and this pair of jeans that made your ass look incredible.

You had no idea what the mystery man from last night looked like but you spent the night filling in the blanks of what was hidden beneath his helmet. Your brain seemed to be fixated on the stranger with some magical pull like you knew him already. Your body definitely seemed to like him already, that’s for sure.

“Harry? Americano two sugars.” You called out, sliding the takeaway cup to the edge of the counter before moving on to the next coffee. When the figure approached the counter, you went into your automatic greeting, “have a nice da-”, but the words got caught in your throat when you looked up and locked eyes with the same stranger last night.

You knew it was him instantly. There was no rhyme or reason to explain it, but you knew and he was even more good-looking than you ever could’ve imagined. With piercing green eyes and a strong jaw, plump pink lips and tattoos running up both arms that had your core clenching. The most unexpected feature of all though, was his long luscious curls pulled back from his face and running just past his shoulders.

Harry smirked, visibly seeing the wide-eyed, freeze response your body had just at the sight of him. It was a reaction he got often. He was tall and handsome and the dark clothing he wore made him appear far more intimidating than the usual curly-haired white boy.

“Thank you, love.” He smirked, grabbing the takeaway cup before casually slipping a $100 bill into the tip jar. He was walking out of the cafe without another word, looking at you over his shoulder before he was walking down the street and out of your view.

That night it wasn’t just his face you were dreaming about.

You never expected to see the handsome stranger, who you now knew as Harry, again but as the weeks went by he came to visit the cafe time and time again. It was always the same order and the same ‘thank you, love’ that had your head spinning and then he was gone with no idea of when he’d return again.

Then one day he took things a step further and asked you when your break was. It was the longest you heard him speak and the more words that came out, the more you found yourself hypnotised by the way his mouth wrapped around the syllables. Your coworkers warned you that men like him were dangerous and not worth the excitement and pleasure they always offered.

Time and time again you had helped your friends through some shitty breakup or worse with one of the travellers that rolled through town and you always promised yourself you wouldn’t put yourself in a situation like that. It was clear from the very first night that he was trouble but as much as you wanted to keep your distance, you just couldn’t.

You had never felt so mesmerised by another person before. That initial burning attraction hot enough to take your breath away. In only one sit down with him, you were ready to risk it all. He was so gorgeous and charming and sweet. The epitome of that misunderstood bad boy.

Just like his frequent cafe visits, your lunch breaks soon became his. You two would sit and he’d always ask you about yourself. You did most of the talking and he did most of the listening, never giving much away of himself. He’d show up with bloody knuckles or a bruised eye but would mask the pain and simply shrug when you asked him if he was okay.

It was starting to feel like he knew everything about you and you knew nothing in return. You wanted to know everything about him. After weeks of these little interactions, he never tried to fuck you or pursue things with you or make you feel like you owed him for all the $100 tips he left. All he wanted to do was talk and if anything, that made you want him more.

Then one night… everything changed.

You were woken in the middle of the night by a crash in your living room. That would be scary for anyone, but it was even scarier when you were on the top floor and the only access points to your apartment were the front door and the fire escape out the window.

You went into immediate panic mode, snatching the steak knife you had tucked under your pillows between your top sheet and your fitted sheet in case this very thing happened. Living alone had its challenges and one of them was the intense fear someone would break in in the middle of the night. By now you could recognise the sounds of your apartment and building so not every little creak freaked you out, but anyone could recognise the sound of broken glass and your pot plant being knocked over.

Sticking the knife out in front of you, you tip-toed out of your bedroom and down the hallway to your living room where the noise came from. Your phone was clutched against your chest, the three-digit emergency number ready to be called in case it wasn’t your cat, Mouse, knocking things over. Mouse was a fragile little thing and sometimes got scared by the smallest things. Even setting a mug down on the bench too hard could have her jumping out of her skin.

You prayed it was only her being skittish.

When you made it to the end of your hallway, you pressed yourself against the wall and tipped your head out ever so slightly to look into your living room. A whole wave of emotions rushed over you at once at the sight. It wasn’t your cat, but rather a tall dark figure holding your purring pet.

It was a figure you recognised immediately, even with his strong back facing towards you.

“Harry? What the fuck?” You hissed, turning your phone off while turning the lights on at the same time.

“Hey, bunny.” Harry flashed a sly smile, turning to look at you. You noticed the dried blood on his lip and eyebrow instantly and the swollen ball forming on his cheek. Fucking hell.

That smile instantly dropped when his eyes ran over you, taking in the ratty loose t-shirt and tiny underwear you were wearing. The t-shirt had a worn-out collar making it slide down to expose your collarbone and one shoulder. Your nipples were pressing through the thin material, all pebbled and hard from the cold air now blowing in from the window Harry accidentally broke on his way in.

Getting dressed was the last thing on your mind before venturing out here and you suddenly regretted not putting pants on at least. To be fucking fair though, you never would’ve guessed Harry would break in through your window when A. you had a very suitable front door, B. he didn’t even have your number and C. you never told him where you lived.

“What the… how do you know where I live?” You asked a little shakily, crossing your arms to cover your chest while still keeping the knife on guard in front of you.

Harry set down Mouse and she immediately ran over to you, purring while sliding her body against your calf. He walked over to you slowly and the closer he got, the worse his injuries appeared. A split lip and split eyebrow and a deep purple hue starting to form around his socket. He looked awful.

“Are you going to stab me, bunny?” He drawled, almost mockingly. You stood your ground, trying not to show your shaking as your hand tightened around the handle of the knife. His eyes were dark and he allowed himself a final drag over your body, stepping so close to you that the tip of the knife pressed into his stomach while he towered over you. “Gonna cut me open? Give me another scar to add to my collection?”

Even though you knew you should be scared, you weren’t. He found your address and broke into your house and yet physically, you weren’t the slightest bit worried that he’d hurt you. You knew nothing about him, didn’t even know what illegal venture he did for work and yet you trusted him.

Because you trusted him, your shaking was for a very different reason. Having him in your apartment all bloody and bruised and still as handsome as ever had you completely worked up. The thought of… of doing just what he teased, of giving him a scar that reminded him of you forever… god, it was so fucked up how horny that made you.

You were obsessed over a man who hadn’t even kissed you, yet knew every single thing about you. It was ridiculous. That felt even more ridiculous than playing off this entire interaction as a somewhat normal experience.

“I’ve got a perfectly fine front door, y’know.” You whispered, looking over to the broken window. You kept your knife against his stomach, even testing the waters by pressing it harder ever so gently into the toned muscles beneath his shirt. “And you’re paying for that to be fixed, by the way.”

Harry laughed, wincing ever so slightly at the tinge of pain in his face. But still, he laughed. And it was golden. “I’ll pay for whatever you want,” He murmured, smirking while looking down at the knife. “I’m sure you’re very skilled with a blade, bunny, but will you put it aside for now and clean me up instead? Need a pretty girl to make me feel better.”

You looked between your knife and his eyes, reluctantly dropping your hand beside your hip. “Come on.”

Saying nothing else, you spun around and walked into your bathroom. Harry followed closely behind, looking around your apartment with curiosity before his eyes fell on you. You pulled your t-shirt down as far as it would go, but it still rode up as you walked and he found himself unable to look anywhere else.

“Sit.” You pointed to the closed toilet and set your knife down on the bench, crouching down to get the first aid kit from the cabinet below the sink.

Harry did as told and shrugged his leather jacket off, setting it down on the bench before sitting on the closed toilet lid. He watched you intently, saying nothing as you set up your tools to sanitise and clean his wounds.

After grabbing some gauze and betadine to clean the open wounds, you soaked the material and started to clean the small gash on his eyebrow. Harry kept completely still, barely feeling the pinch. Your touch was so soft, so gentle. He found it more relaxing than anything else. Once that wound was clean, you moved onto his mouth which Harry found a lot more sensitive.

“So how did this happen?” you asked softly, dabbing his lip with the small cloth. His eyes closed as he tensed, hands fisting on his knees to stop himself from getting too worked up. Pain didn’t affect Harry, at least not in a normal way. Every sting and bite at your hand was turning him on in an inappropriate way. You were his bunny, his girl. He couldn’t get hard around you when all you were trying to do was help him.

“Oh, y’know...” He shrugged, keeping his eyes on you but not giving anything away.

“I don’t, actually.” You responded.

“It doesn’t matter how it happened, just that I’ve got a pretty girl fixing me up.” He attempted to smooth it over with a soft smile and a loving tap on your chin. It was the most he ever touched you, a little tap on your chin or a graze of his fingers on your cheek. He never touched your knee or your hand or anywhere else. It was infuriating.

“It does! You show up here in the middle of the night and break in. I don’t even know how you found my address but I’m cleaning your cuts and you won’t even tell me how you got them. How is that fair!? I know nothing about you Harry.” Your voice bordered on a sigh and a yell, exhausted with him showing up out of nowhere and charming you before disappearing again. You weren’t sure what to make of it and he wasn’t giving you any ideas on what he actually wanted from you.

“It’s better that way, y/n.” He looked away from you, leaning back so your fingers weren’t holding his chin anymore to keep him in position. “You don’t want to get involved with me.”

“That’s not fair and you know it. You show up constantly and-and what? Have lunch with me? Get to know me? You can’t do that and not expect me to want to know something back.” You expressed frustratingly, shoving the first aid items into the small bin beside your cabinet.

“I want to keep you safe, y/n.” He stood from the toilet, sighing when you refused to look at him. “The less you know about me, the safer you’ll be.”

“So why do you even keep coming back if you don’t want me involved with you? It’s killing me!” You snapped, looking up at him accusatorily.

“Because I can’t stay away from you.” He whispered, sliding his hand over the side of your neck. Your breath hitched at the touch, your body automatically leaning into it as he rubbed his thumb over your jaw and towards your mouth. Oh. “I’m so fucking obsessed with you it’s unhealthy. I think about you all the time. All the fucking time, y/n.”

“I don’t know what you want from me.” Tears pricked at your eyes, “you’re so confusing Harry because you look at me like that and say things but you don’t even touch me. You haven’t kissed me or-or anything. Just tell me what you want from me so I know where to set my expectations.”

“You think I don’t want to kiss you?” He cocked his head, turning your bodies so your back was to the basin. His hand looped to the front of your neck and it was like every cell in your body suddenly put their focus onto him. You couldn’t breathe or think or move or anything. Not when his large ringed fingers were wrapped around your neck like he was carrying a trophy. A prize to claim. “You think I don’t want to touch you?”

Harry pressed his hips into you, eliciting a gasp when you felt his long, hard cock pressed against you. He used his hips to nudge you against the cabinet, pinning you there so you couldn’t go anywhere. “All I think about is kissing you. Kissing your lips and your neck and… everywhere. The things I want to do to you y/n are so unsavoury your pretty little head would explode.”

He always thought you were this pure… innocent angel. One of the rare people in the world with no ill intentions. You were polite and sweet, even after Harry significantly brought you out of your shell since he met you. You were studying to be a nurse for Christ’s sake, some of the purest of the pure.

He wanted to ruin you. He wanted to take that innocence away more than anything on this planet. It was his built-in fucked up default program. To want what he couldn’t have. To want to destroy everything around him.

But he couldn’t do that to you. The last thing he wanted was to hurt you, even if it hurt him in the process. Harry had no light in his life, no hope until he met you and he knew that the moment this became real he would destroy you. His life would destroy you or Harry would do something to fuck it all up and he’d hurt you.

He’d break your heart.

“It won’t.” You rushed out, “It won’t explode. I… I want it.” You could barely articulate yourself. Not when his whole body was pressed to yours. All you had been thinking of for months was having him completely dominate your body. Just to touch you and please you. Even if it was only one time before he disappeared from your life forever.

You needed it.

“I’ll ruin you.” He promised, leaning in closer so his nose bumped against yours. He breathed out a ragged breath, feeling so close to completely giving in to his desires. All of them. “I’ll destroy every good thing about you, y/n. You don’t want that.”

The scariest part of all… was that you did want it. You were becoming the exact person you didn’t want to be. A good girl sacrificing herself to save the soul of someone who might never be saved. But you believed Harry would be saved. You could fix him. Help him to get away from whatever life he lived that made him hurt so badly inside.

You wanted to save him.

“I do. I do want it.” You nodded desperately, grabbing his other hand to guide it towards your clothed mound. You pressed your hand over his, using your own fingers to press his against the silky wet patch on the crotch of your underwear. He swore under his breath, taking the initiative to stroke his fingers along the wet material. “Ruin me. Please.”

So he did.

He ruined you over and over again that night and for many nights after. It completely changed everything for you two. Like it was the last barrier stopping you two from being completely open with each other. You had always told him the things you told everyone else. Your likes and dislikes, the show you were watching, your workplace drama.

But your desires… your needs and wants. They were reserved for no one but yourself. Until he came along.

Harry told you he’d ruin you and he stuck to his word. The things you did together were dirty and depraved and left you with such a feral need for the man, you would’ve let him do quite literally anything to you. As would he, you. And you practically had. Every desire or curiosity was sated and he was willing to do anything to satisfy you.

Harry became as violently obsessed with you as you did him and even though it was a hell of a trip to see you, he did so as often as possible. He couldn’t help himself. Not when he had such a pretty girl waiting to please him and take care of his heart, body and soul. You filled the hole in his life in all aspects, which is what he feared would happen when he saw you that very first night.

Someone so magnetic would ruin him and he was enjoying every moment of it.

You had no idea he traveled from the main city just to see you until you two started sleeping together. He continued stopping by for a coffee or to disturb your lunch break but very quickly, your time spent together turned into an after hours activity. He’d come to get fixed up and then he’d ruin you. Or… his sole intention was to ruin you all along.

There were many sleepless nights because of him. Not that you minded. He opened up to you more and told you more about himself and what he did. When you started to learn small things, you realised that he was probably right in you being better off left in the dark. It was a lot more elaborate than you could’ve imagined and it made sense why he did so much to keep you protected.

Running an elaborate drug smuggling operation wasn’t exactly the safest job out there, nor did it give you much opportunity to switch careers. Somehow, though, you weren’t deterred by it. Maybe it was because you were already in love with him the second he ruined you for the first time.

His high job security didn’t stop you from fantasising about a different life with him. Harry leaving that life for you. The only part of the job Harry liked was the financial stability and the power. The control he had. But you felt like Harry was destined for so much more, that he could live a much happier, safer life. With you.

“Have you ever thought about running away?” You asked, playing with his long hair. It was unruly and sweaty and you were threading your fingers through the knots formed from the midnight hookup. You were still hot and sweaty too, but Harry quite liked the sticky feeling of your skin and the lingering scent of sex in the air.

“Running away? I couldn’t.” Harry breathed through a laugh like it was unfathomable. “You couldn’t either.” He looked up from his work, reaching for your hand to bring it to your mouth to kiss your knuckles. “You’ll be a nurse soon and you’ve always had your heart set on Mercy. You’ll get a job there and it’ll be everything you want.” He smiled softly, guiding your hand back to his hair so you’d play for it while he finished the artwork on your upper thigh.

The thin marker was steady in his hand and he only had one letter left before the piece was complete, not that four letters took a particularly long time to write. But he wanted it to be perfect, for the permanent marker to last as long as possible on your pretty skin. You’d never do it permanently, after all you were still his good girl and no good girl would be as rogue as to get her lover's handwriting tattooed on her thigh after only a few months. Or ever. Permanent marker and baby powder always did the trick to make a design last a while, though, and Harry hoped it would still be there the next time he snuck through your window.

“I want you, Harry.” You whispered, finding his concentration both adorable and so damn sexy you were getting all worked up again. If he looked a little to the left to where your bare cunt was so so close to his fingers, he’d probably be able to tell too. “And the good thing about being a nurse is I can do it anywhere. I can…” you swallowed your nerves, unsure what his reaction would be to your suggestion. “I can work anywhere and-”

“It wouldn’t work, y/n.” He interrupted curtly, leaning back to observe his work while putting the cap back onto his pen. Harry rarely used your name, he was too fond of his pet name for you. “You will always be mine. Always. But I think we both know that what we have is temporary.” Your heart broke at his words and you felt the pain fizzle through your body like a burning liquid. He looked up at you as he blew on the temporary tattoo. “When I inevitably break your heart, bunny, you’ll move on and find someone who can love you the way you deserve. I’ll never move on from you, but you will and you’ll be happier for it.”

“That’s not true.” You all but whimpered. Harry ignored your plea, tapping against your skin to test whether the marker was dry. “You always say that you’ll break my heart, Harry but that’s not true.” He looked up at you for a moment, trying to hide the heartbreak he felt at seeing how sad you were. Grabbing the little bottle of baby powder, he sprinkled it over the little word, massaging the surrounding area of your leg. “I… I love you and I know you love me. If you loved me you wouldn’t hurt me.”

“Bunny, I love you more than anything else on this planet.” He assured, shifting up onto his knees in all his naked glory. He spread his hands over your belly, rubbing his thumbs a little harder into your skin. “I would never do anything to hurt you but this life… it follows me wherever I go. There’ll be a time where I need to sacrifice my love and happiness to protect you. But you’ll always be mine. Until the day I die.” He smiled softly, looking back down to the pile of powder on your upper thigh. He ran his thumb over it, rubbing away from the white substance and leaving the matte four-letter word.

Mine.

“See?” He smirked, looking down at the ‘tattoo’, “I can’t promise you forever, bunny. But I can promise you that I’ll be yours at least until this fades. Who knows what could happen by then.”

You sat up, pressing your hands behind you on the bed for balance as you looked at his artwork. There was something so sexy about being branded like that, even if it was temporary. Your otherwise empty skin now looked complete with his mark there. In his handwriting.

What other sign could be more clear that you belonged to him than his handwriting on your thigh stating just that?

“I love it.” You whispered, tracing over the cursive letters. “Will you be back?” You settled on asking, pausing for a moment, “before the tattoo fades?”

That was one thing that troubled you about your relationship with Harry. The fact that you never knew when you’d see him again. You both openly professed your love and obsession for each other and yet you didn’t go on dates or text or call. Harry just showed up.

He told you it was to keep you safe. It was the very same reason he snuck through your window instead of knocking on your front door. There was less chance of anyone finding out about you. Whoever ‘anyone’ was.

Harry nodded. “I should be. I’ve got a job this weekend though so it might not be for a little longer than usual.” He plastered a soft smile on his face to calm you and reached out to cup your face. “Better make sure it’s still here when I get back. Okay, bunny? Unless you want me to mark it on your skin another way.” That smile tilted to a smirk, promising you foreplay that both of you knew would have you begging him for release.

This time you nodded, “I’ll be good f’you.”

Shit.

“Good girl, Princess.” Harry cooed, looking down briefly at his own cock, already hardening even after filling your mouth and pussy with his cum. He couldn’t help it really. Not when your naked body was so gorgeous and now marked with his handwriting. “now c’mere.”

You smiled, shifting up on your knees to join him halfway in a searing kiss. It was nearly 2 am already but you knew that you wouldn’t get any sleep at all.

The days that followed were restless. You kept looking at those four letters on your thigh and thinking of all the things you had and hadn’t done together. The many trysts you shared with hushed conversations and messy top lip kisses. How his hands felt on your body and his lips on your skin.

You had no idea how long it would be before he came to the cafe or broke into your apartment again. There was no word from him or rumour that he was passing through town. The shadows that liked to drift in and out became known the moment they visited more than once and Harry… well he had become a regular now.

The next time Harry snuck into your apartment, bordering on an entire week after he wrote ‘mine’ on your upper thigh, you were ready. You weren’t sure why you knew because sometimes you had no idea until you felt his presence in your bed. Mouse didn’t even meow or run in fear when he entered through the window anymore, making his entrance sometimes as silent as wind whistling through an empty street.

But tonight… you knew.

There was a shift in the room temperature and a lingering scent of tobacco in the air that had your core clenching just at the thought of him visiting you. Of him seeing the surprise you had for him. It was all in your head of course, a delusion brought on by obsession. Still… you knew.

And just like clockwork, you heard the sound of your window sliding upwards just past midnight. He thankfully hadn’t broken the glass since the first night, but for him to just slink in you had to keep the window unlocked. Before meeting him you obsessively checked every lock on every window and your front door every night, fearing that one of the shadows coming through town would try and hurt you.

You’d think that getting involved with someone like Harry would make that fear worse and yet… it didn’t. Somehow you felt safer. Harry once made a passing comment about keeping an eye on you, that he always knew if you were alright. He didn’t have to elaborate for you know that meant he had hacked into security cameras or had someone he trusted watching your apartment at all times.

6-months-ago-you would’ve been creeped the fuck out. Scared for your life that you’d allow one of the shadows to get you so hooked on him, you’d let him have a security guard of sorts around you 24/7, or even just the fact you let him so casually break into your apartment. It made total sense to you somehow because with all the theatrics and abnormal parts of your relationship came the love and happiness you got when you saw him.

Even though it was most likely your lover opening your window, you still fished for the knife under your pillow, now replaced with something pink and shiny and far more deadly. Harry decided that if you were going to protect yourself, you needed something more dangerous than a serrated kitchen knife. You treasured that pocket knife and you and Harry have had a lot of fun playing with it.

“Harry?” You whispered, creeping down your hallway.

“It’s just me, bunny.” His voice echoed, low and husky.

You smiled, rushing out to find him pushing your window back down and locking the latch. His hair was pulled back into a bun, sitting messily at the back of his head and he was wearing his classic leather jacket and dark jeans. God, you had missed him.

“You really need to start locking your window, y/n.” Harry drawled, turning around to face you. “A madman might try to break in and hurt you.”

You giggled, throwing your pocket knife on your rug carelessly to pounce on him. Literally. He smiled and caught you easily, letting you wrap your legs around his hips while your arms wrapped around his neck.

Your mouths joined almost instantly, lips brushing against lips in a heated exchange. You threaded your fingers in his hair and tugged until his bun came loose and his hair fell to his shoulders. He groaned at the feeling and ran his tongue against the seam of your lips, nibbling down on your bottom lip.

“I missed you, madman.” You whispered once your lips broke, shifting in his arms. His hands supported your bum, squeezing while he devoured your mouth once more. His body was sore from his weekend job, but he’d never let that get in the way of having his girl in his arms.

“I missed you too, bunny. So much… I couldn’t breathe without you.” He murmured, setting you down with a little wince. You noticed it immediately and ran your hands over his face, angling his head around to look for any injuries. He wasn’t bruised on his face for once, but you knew he was hurting somewhere.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt? What happened?” The questions came out spitfire, making Harry smile down at you and set his hands on your hips. Your eyes found a dried substance at his collar and you recognised what it was immediately. “Is that blood?”

“Not mine.” He assured, “I’m fine, baby. Don’t worry.”

You ignored his assurance and started running your hands over his chest, looking for any sign of pain or visible jerk out of tenderness. When your fingers grazed his lower abdomen, he couldn’t hide the clench of his jaw. You glared up at him, pressing harder against the spot so he’d feel a little payback for lying to you.

Harry groaned and dug his fingers into your hips, ensuring it was hard and painful enough to leave a bruise. You didn’t mind though, in fact, you quite liked it.

“Jesus Harry, you got shot!?” Your eyes widened when you tugged up his t-shirt to find a bloody gauze. You knew what it was immediately. You had seen your fair share of bullet wounds in your work placements at the hospital as well as the dodgy ways they tried to mend them themselves. “When did this happen?” You decided to peel off the gauze to see the wound for yourself, not trusting the temporary mend he had done. The wound had been stitched up quite well actually, but it was inflamed and a few stitches had broken. It needed to be mended.

“Did it go all the way through? Is the bullet still in here? Why didn’t you tell m-”

Harry interrupted your second spitfire of the evening by pressing his lips to yours. It was quick to shut you up, especially when he slid his tongue against the seam of your mouth and dominated his way in. His tongue slid against yours, tobacco and whiskey heavy in the kiss.

You whimpered against his mouth, almost forgetting about the bullet wound until you felt its blood soak your fingertips. Pulling back, Harry tried to chase your mouth, needing you violently. Insatiably. He had missed your soft skin and your delicious mouth and especially missed your sweet sweet pussy. One he had a severe craving for. He could almost taste it on his tongue.

“Bathroom. Now. Your stitches are busted.” You pushed your finger to his chest and he easily backed away. He was completely whipped by you, willing to do anything you told him.

“Alright, bunny. You’re the boss.” He murmured, shrugging his jacket off to dump it on the couch before following you to the bathroom. You both followed the same routine as always. He sat on the closed toilet seat and you readied your supplies to treat his wounds.

“Top off.” You instructed, using a lighter to sanitise the end of the needle you threaded already.

“Yes ma’am.” He chuckled softly, stifling a groan as he grabbed the back of his collar and pulled his shirt off his head. “You’re feisty when you’re mad.”

“You shouldn’t have lied to me.” You shot back, sanitising the scissors next with your betadine.

“It’s just a bullet wound, bunny.” He tried to soothe, watching you approach him and rub the wound with betadine in preparation to cut his original stitches and do new ones. “Didn’t even go straight through me.”

“So the bullet’s still in there? Jesus, Harry. Why didn’t you go to the hospital? I’m not equipped to remove a fucking bullet in my bathroom.” You snapped.

“It’s not in there, y/n. One of my boys removed it, okay?” He chuckled softly, both loving and hating how worried you were. He reached up to cup your face, “I’m fine. The only thing wrong with me is a busted stitch.”

You ignored him, keeping your glare strong on your face. His hands dropped to his knees and he remained completely still while you worked on the wound. He hated that permanent crease on your brow and all he wanted to do was make it go away.

“What’s wrong?” He nudged, poking at your leg when you stayed completely silent. You were in your usual oversized t-shirt, underwear combination, but this particular t-shirt was long enough to cover your bum and the tops of your thighs. “C’mon bunny, talk to me.”

“You’re distracting me.”

“And you’re ignoring me. I don’t like when you’re cross with me.”

“Well I don’t like being left in the dark for an entire week and when you show up you’ve been shot.” You snapped, pulling the needle tighter than you’d usually do to make a knot, just so it hurt a little more. He clenched his jaw, but he was more concerned about you than the temporary pain of his stitches. “What if you died Harry? Then what? I would’ve…” you looked away to grab the scissors, trying to blink away the tears. When you returned, his gaze was soft. “I would’ve never known. You would’ve left me and I… I’d never know.”

You couldn’t even focus on his wound with how hard your hands were shaking. You managed to cut the excess thread, but the moment it was done Harry pulled the scissors and needle out of your hand and brought your shaking ones to his.

“Y/n, I’d never do that to you. Never.” Harry scanned your face, reaching up to cup you to get you to look at him. “I didn’t mean to scare you, bunny.” He wrapped his hand around the nape of your neck, gently pulling you down to rest your forehead against his. “I should’ve told you.”

“Yeah, you should’ve.” You agreed, unable to stop a few tears streaming down your cheeks. “You’re an asshole.”

“I am.” He nodded, trying to kiss you until you turned your head away from him. “I fucked up. I’ll never, ever do that again. Never.” He promised, tipping his forehead to your cheek while threading your fingers to press your hand against his racing heart. “My heart belongs to you forever.”

“I’m yours, Harry.” You promised, pulling back to wipe your tears away and get the bandage to cover his wound. He sighed and grabbed your waist instead, pulling you closer between his legs so you wouldn’t go too far. “But I need… I need something. I can’t keep waiting for you to show up with nothing in between. I can barely sleep when you’re not here.”

“Okay. I’ll… I’ll get a burner. Untraceable. Just for you and me.” He suggested, “You’ll never go a day without hearing from me again.” It was a promise. An oath. He never wanted to be the cause of your tears again, even if he knew he would be. It was why he didn’t want to keep your hopes up about a future, even if he wanted it more than anything in the entire world.

“You promise?” You asked, running hands over the placed bandage to seal it in place. He nodded, looking up at you with a soft smile. You hated how easy it was to forgive him. But you loved when he looked at you like that. Like you were his entire world.

“I promise. Cross my heart.” He murmured, running his hands over your waist and hips, “now will you stop being mad at me and give me a kiss?”

Harry stood up, overpowering you with his height. Using one hand on your waist, he nudged you against the basin and used the other hand to cup the side of your neck. His gaze was dark, eyes blazing with a need to please and be pleased. He was hungry for you, just like he was since the moment he got on his bike to drive down to see you.

“Please, bunny. Let me make it up to you.”

All you could do was nod.

Harry was easy to succumb to your influence, easy to follow instructions and do whatever you wanted. But he was just as easy to overpower you, to dominate you. To get you reduced to nothing but a whimper and a nod of your head.

He was quick to duck in and clasp your lips together. It started slow and steady, a languid dance of your mouths that turned into something far more passionate. It always did. He slid his hand to the back of your neck, threading his fingers into your hair to move your face in the direction he wanted while he nibbled on your bottom lip and slid his tongue against the seam of your mouth.

You let him in easily, loving the slow, deliberate slide of his tongue against yours. That familiar tobacco mint flavour was heavy in the kiss, a mix of the cigarette he no doubt had before climbing up the fire escape and the mint gum he liked to chew on to try and curb the habit. It never did work, but you liked the taste of him trying to stop the nasty addiction.

You pulled him closer by his hips, digging your fingers into the slight pudge just above his belt. It was one of your favourite parts of him to kiss, to bite. You had dug your teeth in it so many times Harry was tempted to get a tattoo of your bite so he could remember the feeling of your teeth sinking into him forever.

“Wanna taste you, bunny.” Harry groaned, tucking his hand under your shirt to fiddle with the band of your lace underwear. Your hips bucked up to meet the touch, desperate to get him doing more than just play with your underwear. “Missed the sweet taste of you on my tongue.” He kissed you softly, dragging your bottom lip back between his teeth until he released it with a pop. “Always dream of it when I’m away.”

“I guess what’s one way to apologise.” You breathed, sighing when he pinched your thigh. He tucked his hands under your ass, hoisting you up so you’d wrap your legs around his hips.

“Mhmm. I’d happily die apologising to you. Over and over.” He had this smirk playing on his lips, but you didn’t particularly find it funny.

“Don’t talk about dying.” You reprimanded softly, playing with his hair while he carried you to your bedroom.

“Not even if it’s death by your sweet pussy?” He grinned, lowering you onto the bed. You shuffled upwards, rolling your eyes as he knelt on the bed to hover over you.

“For someone who gets shot for a living, you have the humour of a 13-year-old boy.”

“And you don’t like that?” Harry raised his brow, grinning while leaning in to kiss you. You hummed into the kiss, tugging on his hair until his groan rumbled into your mouth. He pressed his weight against you, ensuring you felt every inch of his arousal for you.

He could feel yours right back. How wet you were, how warm your pussy was pressed right against his jeans. You had properly soaked through your lacy underwear and Harry could feel his jeans slowly dampen from the way he was grinding his hips against you. It was heaven. He could hardly wait to get his mouth on your sweet little cunt, especially when you were already so worked up for him.

“Your humour is only funny…” you paused to gasp, head tilting back so Harry could nip down along your neck. “…sometimes.”

“And you’re sexy all the time.” He murmured, simultaneously pushing your oversized t-shirt up while kissing downwards. He ran his hands over every inch of exposed skin, pushing the shirt above your breasts so he could clasp his lips around one of your nipples.

You took the shirt off immediately, whimpering and bucking your hips to meet his while you scratched at his back. He scraped his teeth against your sensitive bud, tugging and sucking hard enough to make your head spin. While he assaulted your nipples, his hands ran over your belly and hips down to your thighs spread wide underneath him. It was only when his fingers crawled to your very inner thigh ready to tease you through your underwear that he felt the thin film of plastic.

“What’s this?” His movements stopped immediately as he felt over the thin plastic film. You whimpered at the sensitivity, feeling particularly sore after your adventure yesterday.

“I did something and you can’t be mad…” You breathed, watching him sit back on his haunches.

His eyes widened when he got a better look, resting his hand on your thigh while he ran his thumb over the four little letters now permanently marked on your skin. Harry was no stranger to tattoos, he was practically covered in them. But the last thing he ever expected was for you to make your temporary tattoo last longer by making it permanent.

His handwriting. His claim. Harry permanently etched on your body forever.

“Bunny…” Harry murmured, looking between you and the tattoo. “What did you do?”

“You said you couldn’t promise me forever but you could give me until the tattoo fades…” His eyes focused on you and you felt yourself already becoming pliant just with the dark look on his face. “...now it’ll never fade.”

He said nothing for a moment and just stayed staring at your tattoo. His eyes drifted upwards ever so slightly to where your pretty lace underwear was pressed snugly to your pussy. Then he looked further upwards to your soft belly and your perky tits and finally… to your face. Your pretty eyes and your lips, the lips he loved to kiss more than anything.

Harry was back over you in an instant, cupping your jaw while kissing you like he was ravenous for it. You whimpered into it, tugging on his hair until your lips parted in a gasp.

“Can’t believe you did that, bunny. Got a fucking tattoo so I’d be stuck to you forever.” He murmured, smushing his mouth to yours again. “That was the plan, wasn’t it? Force my hand so I’d be yours forever.” He started to kiss back down your body again, making sure his tongue pressed against your skin with every touch.

“I love you. I want… I want to be yours forever.” You whimpered, watching him settle between your spread legs with an evil smirk on his face.

“And you thought a tattoo was the right choice? Hm? You thought letting some other man permanently alter your body was the way to go?” He dipped his fingers into the waistband of your underwear, tearing the lacy material in two. He was completely rough with it, making sure it ached as he pulled torn pieces off your body.

“It wasn’t a man. She… shit.” You couldn’t even find the words, not when he spread you wide and stared at you like you were some fine dessert.

“You think that makes it better, bunny? You think who did the tattoo makes a difference?” He raised his brow, running both his thumbs up your outer labia to tease you.

“I told you not to be mad.” You whined, pressing your hands to your face.

“I’m not mad. I think this is quite possibly the hottest… most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me.” You peeked through your parted fingers, looking down at where he was looking up at you, spreading his hands to kiss at the thin layer of plastic. “So fucking sexy.” Harry murmured, looking down at it in awe.

“So why do you sound mad?” You whispered, looking down at him.

“I’m not mad you got a tattoo, I’m mad I wasn’t there. Didn’t I always say I wanted to be there for your first one?”

“Well yes but-“

“And didn’t you promise me that I would be?”

“Yes…” you swallowed thickly. He was speaking at you in such a condescending way. Like you were a child being taught a basic lesson for the first time. It was belittling.

It turned you on in such a feral way. He could even mansplain anything and you’d be happy to play into it. As long as he sounded like that and wound up between your thighs afterwards he could speak to you however he liked.

“So you went against your word, hm?” He smirked as your thighs trembled on either side of his shoulders, your body growing more and more sensitive and needy as he started tracing over your pussy.

“I guess so.”

“Do I go against my word? Have I ever broken a promise before?”

“Yes.” You tried to defend, knowing very well he always stuck to his word. Harry had never broken a promise to you. Not when he told you he’d be back in three days or when he didn’t know but promised he’d return to you safely. He always kept his word.

To be fair though, it was hard to stay clear-minded when he was caressing your pussy like it was something cute to pet. It wasn’t. And with every stroke of his fingers, every slide through your crease to spread your arousal up to your clit before coming straight back down like he didn’t even know what a clit was, your mind was spiralling. He was killing you.

“Oh really?” He nudged a finger to your entrance, pressing just hard enough to slip the very top inside of you. You always were the most sensitive at your g-spot then right here, at the very beginning where all your nerves were alive and your pussy was clenching around nothing because you needed something inside. Specifically Harry’s cock. “Tell me. When?” He pressed an open-mouthed kiss to your clit and finally slid his finger inside of you, eliciting the prettiest whine.

“Um… Uhh…” You couldn’t speak or think with his tongue slowly sliding over your clit now. He traced languid circles and waves, taking complete control and doing it all at his own pace. Harry was tasting you for his own pleasure more than he was yours, even if he did love the way you came for him.

“Exactly.” He smirked, “So let me take my time with you. I’m owed that, aren’t I?”

“I thought you were meant to be apologising to me? This feels like an unfair system. A bullet wound is more serious than a tattoo.” You complained, sliding your hands into his hair to try and drag him closer to you.

After being away from him for so long, one of the longest times apart since you started dating-or whatever you two were, all you wanted was to feel him. You wanted his pleasure and the weight of his body on top of you. Teasing wasn’t fun when you were apart more than you were together.

You prayed that would change after the gesture you made. The permanent commitment to him.

“Which one is permanent?” He grinned lazily up at you.

“You could’ve died.” You argued.

“But I didn’t. Now will you stop complaining otherwise I’m more than happy to stop. It’s been a big day I could easily go to sl-”

“No!” You jumped a little too quickly, making him laugh and press spongey kisses against your inner thighs. “No… no, please. I’ll take whatever you want. I’ll be good.”

“Yeah?” He smirked, pressing his fingers into your fresh tattoo. You gasped, clutching his hair tighter in your hands. “That’s what I like to hear, pretty girl. Besides, I think letting me take my sweet time tasting you is the best punishment out there. Don’t you think?”

Harry pressed a few chaste kisses along your thighs, feeling just how tense you were. You were clenching around his finger and holding onto his hair tight so he wouldn’t move away. But he couldn’t have you so tense… he needed you to relax.

“Calling it a punishment scares me…” you whimpered, feeling his tongue slide over your clit in a sloppy figure-eight pattern.

“mh… just relax, bunny. Stop thinking and let me take care of you… you’re my girl, aren’t you? My sweet, delicious girl. My girl?” He ran his thumb over your tattoo, speaking right against your clit like he was talking to your pussy instead of you.

“Mhmm.”

“Then relax… you deserve to be spoiled after all you do for me…” Harry looked up at you, smiling as you forced your body to melt into the bed.

Your eyes fluttered shut, head tilting back when his mouth returned to your clit. He gently added another finger inside of you, curling them both into your g-spot in a steady stroke. They felt so deep inside of you, nowhere near as full of his cock but still so so good.

The combination of his tongue and his fingers were driving you crazy, but he did them in such a relaxed, languid way that you knew it would take you ages to cum, if he even let you.

“See? ‘S nice isn’t it?… you always take care of me, bunny. Always clean my wounds and take good care of m’cock… m’heart too…. Always make me feel so happy.”

“You make me happy too… scare me a lot too…” You sighed, fisting his hair as he grazed his teeth over your clit.

“I don’t mean to,” Harry murmured against you, kissing against your clit in an infuriatingly light touch. “Only want to make you feel good… feel safe…”

“You do… you do… just-fuck, please… More… Harder.”

He smirked at your begging, the whiny tone in your voice going straight to his cock. Barely a couple minutes into it and you were already getting desperate. Already tugging at his hair and starting to wiggle.

He loved you like this because he had the ultimate control over whether or not he gave you what you wanted. At this point, it could go either way.

“Not yet sweetheart, ‘m having too much fun just like this…”

Your back arched when he pressed his fingertips into your tattoo, purposefully digging into the soft skin. It was a small tattoo, tiny in comparison to half of Harry’s work but you had a relatively low pain tolerance and your very inner thigh was quite sensitive. It was torturous paired with the way his tongue softly stroked against your clit.

“Please, Harry…” You begged once more, using your hands in his hair to try and drag him closer to you. You were writhing beneath him, desperate for something more than just light teasing shapes. You could barely handle it anymore.

“Ah.” Harry tutted, slipping from your clit with a little pop of his lips. He grinned up at you, mouth and chin all soaked and dripping before pulling your hands from his hair to push them down on the bed beside you. It was possibly one of the most erotic things you had ever seen. “Y’know I like my hair pulled, bunny but if you keep pushing it, I’ll make sure you don’t cum at all. Let me enjoy you.”

“Okay…” You nodded quickly, hoping he wouldn’t stop altogether. “m’sorry. I’ll be good.”

“Good.”

Harry released your hands before grabbing a hair tie from his wrist and putting his hair up in a bun. God when he did that… it did unspeakable things to you. You watched him obsessively, frothing over the way his arms and chest stretched and flexed with every small movement. Up behind his head then back down to the bed when he settled between your thighs while staring at you with this triumphant fuckboy smile.

“You’re so pretty, y’know that. So so pretty and all mine.” He murmured, tracing his finger through your crease while looking straight at your pussy with complete awe. Harry was fucking obsessed with you.

“Harry…”

“I know,” he sympathised, voice almost mocking at your flushed cheeks. He loved when you got nervous. “You’re so pretty when you blush, y/n.” He blew gently over your clit, sliding his two fingers back into you.

Closing his mouth around your clit, he started pleasuring you again. He moved his tongue against you harder and curled his fingers into you with far more purpose than before. And finally, finally you were starting to feel that relief. It was exactly what you needed to start to feel that twist in your stomach and shake in your thighs… the rush before that euphoric release. Your toes were starting to curl and your fingers tightened into his hair, tugging so hard he had to dig his fingertips into your tattoo to ground himself from how desperate he was getting from his hair being played with.

“Oh god… I’m… ‘mgonna…”

And then the rush stopped, that spiraling wave freezing right before it tumbled over the cliff. Harry removed his mouth and halted his fingers, kissing over your thighs instead with an evil grin you could feel against your skin.

“Harry” you protested, gasping while looking down at him. Your legs attempted to clam around his head and you tried to tug his mouth back to you but he easily overpowered you and used his arms to pin your thighs wide against the bed.

“You’re cute when you’re desperate. Might be my second favourite look on you.” He bit down on your thigh, chuckling against your skin.

“What’s the… what’s your favourite?” Your breathing felt laboured, skin already feeling a little sticky from being teased for so long.

“When you orgasm… sometimes it’s when I’ve got you so far gone you’re fucking sobbing for me. Only like your tears when they’re because of m’cock.”

He was evil.

Was it fucked up that knowing he liked to make you cry turned you on?

“You’re so mean… you know I-oh” your words got caught in his throat, eyes fluttering closed again when he started tracing his tongue over your clit again.

Harry started to tease you again, going back to that languid, gentle touching. He was enjoying every second of it too, moaning into you, using his spare hand to grab on your belly and your breasts. He pinched at your nipples before pressing against your tattoo, all to rile you up and build your orgasm again so damn slowly.

Harry was nearly about to burst. You were so wet and so fucking sweet and though he loved having his face between your thighs for hours on end, it turned him on beyond anything else on the fucking planet. He had to keep focusing his mind elsewhere, on anything but the way your cream was coating his fingers and dripping down his palm, or how you were so fucking wet just one slide of his tongue through your crease echoed around the entire room.

But then you got a little too sensitive, a little too desperate and tugged his hair so hard it slipped from the bun he did earlier. He was just as happy to punish you than he was to rest his face between your thighs.

The pleasure stopped once more and you were flipped so fast onto your belly, you didn’t have an opportunity to try and wiggle away. He gathered your hands quickly in one of his so you couldn’t move and ignored your whine of his name.

“I warned you once, y/n, and you didn’t want to listen…”

“Harry ‘m sorry. I’ll be good. I promise.” You protested, at Harry’s complete mercy. He pinned you to the bed with one hand, keeping your hands pressed to your lower back while he pulled his belt out of his belt loops. You wiggled beneath him, trying to get out of his tight grip only to be suddenly swatted with his belt over your ass.

You gasped at the sting, feeling the spot on your skin grow a heartbeat of its own. It was a warm spiced feeling, oozing down to your aching clit that Harry had teased all night.

“You did this to yourself, bunny. I wanted to be nice and I wanted to enjoy your sweet little pussy but you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself. Could you?” Harry looped the belt around your hands then tightened it with the buckle so it was snug around your wrists. He tugged at it just to be sure you couldn’t slip out before hovering over you to kiss you gently on your shoulder.

“Okay?” He asked, nuzzling his nose against your cheek.

“Mhmm.” You nodded.

“Colour?”

“Green.”

“Good girl.” He whispered the praise against your shoulder, kissing the middle of your back on his way back to kneel behind you.

Harry was quick to pull your ass up off the bed until your face was pressed to the duvet, giving him the perfect access to all your pretty holes. You were practically dripping. Already edged once with no relief and now he could just taste you and bury his face without having your hands in the way. His perfect girl.

“See…” He murmured, tracing his hands over your ass. “Isn’t this better? Now I can enjoy you in peace.”

You responded with a noise of indignation, squeezing your fists when he chuckled and spanked your ass in that same spot he whacked his belt. Your skin was pulled taught with the way your chest was pressed to the bed, making the sting heavier than usual.

Even though you whimpered and your whole body jerked at the feeling of his palm on your ass, Harry knew you enjoyed it. Just like you enjoyed being tied up.

The only reason you protested having his belt around your hands was because you hated it like this. Behind your back or pinned to your sides or thighs. You didn’t like not being able to feel him, especially when you couldn’t see him either. With Harry always gone you just wanted to touch him as much as humanly possible when he was around him.

You always had a hand on him. In his hair or scratching his back or in his pocket or intertwined with his fingers. You just needed that touch. Craved it. And now it had been taken away.

“God, you taste so fucking good, bunny.” Harry groaned, spanking your ass roughly. He spread your cheeks wide, pulling back to spit right on your tight rim of muscles before he was sucking over your clit again. “Like a fucking dream.”

He groaned against you, nuzzling his nose right against your entrance to press just hard enough to dip into you. The way he used his entire face to pleasure you was completely feral. He’d be able to smell you for days and taste your sweet sweet arousal for hours to come. That’s exactly how he liked it.

He was completely wrapped around your clit, sucking in that perfect rhythmic pressure he knew you liked. The same pressure that had you tumbling towards an orgasm within two minutes flat. Now he seemed to be doing the opposite of his torturous teasing. He was trying to make you cum and he was doing it in the messiest, most feral way possible.

That was somehow more evil because you had nowhere to go. You couldn’t move your hands or grab his hair, not even hold his hand until he reached for you. With the tight grip on your hips, you were pinned in his grip. You didn’t mind though, because he was finally… finally giving you that delicious pleasure.

You were hopeful, your entire body tense and trembling. Your mouth was gaped against the bedding, soft moans muffled into the material. Until your entire world crashed and burned when it all stopped. Again.

“No. Harry...”

“Shh, it’s okay, bunny.” Harry pressed his mouth over your ass, sliding his fingers out of you to run through your crease to your clit. “Still green?”

“Y-yes.”

“Good. Then let’s keep going, shall we?”

You lost count at how many times he edged you. After five it all turned into a blur; a teary, stinging blurr where your mind was completely in the clouds and your body felt like it was melting into a puddle. You were completely heavy in the bed, legs sore and trembling and your arms aching after being behind your back for so long.

Every touch was torture, every flick of his tongue or suck over your clit sent your mind into orbit. You needed to come so fucking badly but there was nothing you could do to get him to let you finish. He was happy to just taste you and lick you until you were reduced to a pile of tears and sore muscles on the bed.

“Please Harry… please I need it so bad… need y’cock so so badly…”

It wasn’t the first time you begged for it, but it was certainly the first time you cried for it. You were crying softly against the bedding, wiggling and clenching around his fingers. Your nails were digging into your palms, trying to counteract the pressure your entire lower body was facing.

“Yeah? Wanna give it to you, bunny. So fucking bad…” Harry’s cock had been painfully sore since your fourth edge, so fucking hard he got rid of all his clothes just for some relief. His jeans were pressing so tight against his cock, he could barely handle it.

Harry was a sadistic fuck, though and he liked the pain. He liked being sore and he liked to edge himself so when he finally got inside you and got that ultimate pleasure, the entire experience was better. He liked it when he made you come multiple times, but there was something romantic about edging you until you cried then letting you finally come when he was deep inside you and about to orgasm himself.

Simultaneous orgasms were a rarity, but Harry liked the challenge. Often it was him timing his with yours anyway. You were terrible at holding your orgasm, practically incapable of it. That’s why edging you was so fun… Harry had complete control over it. He knew the signs of your body reaching that point without you even verbalising it and knew the exact moment to pull away before you tipped over the edge.

And even when you cried and it was sore, your colour remained green the entire time.

“Got me so hard f’you… just need to make sure you really want it, huh?” Harry bared his teeth against your ass cheek, biting down on one of the spots his various spontaneous spanks had made their mark. Your ass was beat red at this point, covered in teeth marks and hand prints from Harry getting too damn excited. He knew it would be sore for a couple of days, but that’s what he wanted.

He wanted his memory on your skin… and now after your tattoo, it would be. Forever.

The thought of that was exhilarating and one of the most terrifying things in Harry’s world.

“I do… I need it so bad, Harry. Feel so empty without you… so sore…” Your words all joined together, a slur of neediness and sniffled tears.

“Oh, I bet, bunny…” He cooed, sliding his fingers out of you before sucking them clean. He then moved up on his knees behind you to gently undo the belt from your wrists. “Bet you’re so sensitive n’sore, aren’t you?” He threw the belt to the side, massaging your wrists in his hand to soothe the reddened skin.

You just nodded against the bedding, curling your fingers back to hold his hands. He sighed at the sight, leaning down to quickly kiss your fingers before rolling you on your back.

“Aw, baby. Look at you all teary-eyed…” Harry cupped your cheek, letting your legs fall wide on the bed as he wiped the tears from under your eye. With his other hand, he grabbed his cock and guided it to your pussy, sliding the head through your folds. His teeth gritted at the sensitivity on his desperate cock and he was trying so hard to not lose all strength in his body just at that one little touch. He was the one desperate now.

“Y’look so pretty like this… fucking gorgeous you are…”

“Harry…�� You sighed, holding onto his wrist with one hand while grabbing his hip with the other. Just the feeling of his cock through your folds was heavenly, a sign that you’d finally get to come.

“I love the way you say my name, pretty girl. Like a fucking angel… shit”

His hand slid down your face to your neck, looping around it in a loose hold while he pressed his tip to your entrance and slowly eased his way in. Your pussy was so sensitive from all his teasing and he could tell too. Your cry was loud and your nails dug deep into his hip. He was addicted to the feeling.

“Shit… oh god…” You whined out, head thrown back against the bedding. Your mouth was wide in a pant, chest heaving just at the feeling of him bottoming out inside of you. His cock was always an adjustment… thick and long and fuck, every time you thought of it your mind went a little dizzy.

It ached to have him inside you without being edged so much and now it was like a hot fire in your womb. Your clit was aching, your belly was aching, and everything was so tightly strung all you wanted was just to be fucked. Even if you were more sensitive than ever, you just needed to be fucked hard into the bed.

No teasing. Nothing. You just wanted him to fuck you until you came undone around him.

“Fuck me… please, Harry just fuck me…” your words came in a rushed, desperate plea; your hips jutting to try and get him to move.

“Fuck, bunny. Got a filthy fucking mouth, don’t you…” Harry cursed, tightening his grip around your neck. “I’ll fuck you, alright. I’ll give you exactly what you want…”

He started rocking his hips against you, wasting no time to get to a steady, bruising pace. It was hips snapping against hips, your thighs wide on the bed while he used his hand around your neck for balance. His balls slapped against your ass and his noises of pleasure were so goddamn erotic you knew you’d never forget the sound of them.

It was euphoric.

“God baby, you feel so fucking good wrapped around me. And you’re all mine, aren’t you? All fucking mine…” Harry grunted, gritting his teeth to try and stop himself from finishing too fast. He was practically going to burst the moment his cock slid inside you. “And this…” He pressed his palm to your thigh, heavily running his thumb over your tattoo… “is so sexy… so fucking sexy…”

Neither of you seemed to care about the fact he had fresh stitches and a fresh bullet wound because the way he was fucking you was too good to care about something that could be so easily fixed. That pain in his abdomen did very little to stop him from giving you the fucking you deserved, even if that meant he’d have to sit through another angry stitching done by you.

Hopefully, this time you weren’t as angry or as rough with him… though he wouldn’t have minded if it meant he’d have you again like this.

You couldn’t even respond to him because it felt like your mouth had disconnected from your brain. Your body was so overstimulated that your mind could barely function. But you could drag him down with two hands on his jaw and kiss him. It was messy and uncoordinated but that didn’t even matter. All that mattered was that his body was on yours and you felt the closeness you had craved since the moment he tied your wrists behind your back.

“I love you… I love you so much…” You murmured, already feeling your orgasm approach again. It hardly took any time, not when he was fucking you so good and so hard. He felt deeper than ever before, so deep you could feel that deep pit in your stomach start to churn. It was a feeling that didn’t happen very often, but one both you and Harry reaped the benefits of.

“I love you so much, angel. My love forever and always.” Harry groaned into your mouth, gathering your hands in his and intertwining your fingers together. He pushed on either side of your head, pressing them into the bedding as he started to kiss along your jaw and neck to get a bit of air.

The dirty talk kept spilling out of his mouth, some coherent and others just desperate strung together sentences that made your head spiral and your pussy clench around his cock. He had a way with words, both in and out of the bedroom and it never failed to knock you to the fucking floor.

That deep churning in your pit only grew and started to press right against your clit. You could feel the pressure building and building until it felt like you were going to burst. Your clit was aching; a pinching white-hot pleasure beating from it like it had its own heartbeat.

“Oh… shit… shit. Harry… ‘m gonna… ‘m gonna squirt” The words barely got out, all thrown together in a loud cry right in his ear before you felt the damn burst from inside of you.

It rolled over you in a crash. An initial euphoric crash of pleasure hitting your body from all angles. Waves and waves of pure ecstasy made your thighs tremble and your toes curl. Your whole body shook as the first spray of your arousal hit Harry’s lower belly and with every squirt after, another jolt of electricity.

“Shit baby. Good fucking girl. Fucking hell…” Harry cursed, grinding his hips against you to try and draw as much of your orgasm through. He felt it coat his cock and the hairs at his base, dripping down to his balls until it started to dampen the bedding beneath you. “Jesus, bunny. ‘M gonna cum… Can I?...”

“Want it… want it inside, please…” you whimpered, squeezing his hands tight as the pleasure started to die down to a low beat in your clit.

Harry’s mouth smushed against yours as he fucked himself once more inside of you, groaning against you as his body trembled above you. You could feel the hot bliss of his come filling you to the brim and the sudden weight of him on top of you when he let himself relax against your body.

“Shit, bunny…” He sighed, dropping his forehead to the crook of your neck.

You were both exhausted. Your skin was damp and sticky and the bed below you felt exactly the same. It was a mess. You were a mess and yet you were the happiest you could’ve been. Sore muscles and a fire beating on your ass and fresh tattoo meant nothing compared to the fulfilment you had just being with Harry.

“Are you okay?” He whispered after a moment of silence, resting his chin on your chest to look at you. He needed to collect himself before he checked on you so he was physically able to take care of you and provide whatever you needed. He definitely needed to have a shower or bath with you and rub some cream on your wrists and bum.

“I’m good,” You whispered back, smiling softly at him. “A little sore but so good… are you okay?”

“I’m perfect,” he smiled and softly kissed your sweaty skin, “can I pull out now?”

With a small nod, he gently pulled himself out of you and then started your normal routine. He went to get some water and a damp towel to clean you both up and then returned to clean you while you guzzled the entire thing. Some nights you two jumped in the shower straight away, but that was only if you weren’t going to have another round or were prepared to change the sheets at the same time.

Tonight wasn’t one of those nights. After you went to the bathroom quickly you returned and you both curled into each other’s arms to have your usual pillow talk. It was your favourite part of sleeping together because it was often when the truth came out or you found out more things about him. You loved that.

“I still can’t believe you did this…” Harry murmured, looking down at the tattoo. He traced his fingers over it, looking at it obsessively.

“Was it too much? Be honest…”

“What?” Harry was a little taken aback and looked up at you with a furrowed expression, “Never. Fucking unexpected but I love it,” he reached up to grab your cheek and you immediately nuzzled into it, holding your hand over his, “I love you, y/n. I don’t say it often enough but I do. And I want you in my life, I just don’t know how to do it. I don’t know how to keep you safe.”

“Let me come with you.” You responded, “next time you go back to the city, let me come. I want to see where you live and… I don’t know, maybe meet your friends? Or…” you felt a little embarrassed at the next words that came out of your mouth, but you weren’t exactly sure how else to say it, “work colleagues…”

Harry cracked the biggest fucking grin at how you phrased it, but he tried to not laugh so he wouldn’t embarrass you. “Alright. Tomorrow. I’ll take you back with me.”

“Tomorrow?” You blinked, not expecting him to just willingly agree like that.

“Yes. I don’t have a job until Thursday so we’ll have a couple of days together. But that’s only if you don’t have college or wo-”

“I don’t.” You interrupted quickly, knowing very well you did have university and work. Harry knew that too, he just wanted to see if you’d really skip a few days of responsibility for him. “I’d love to go.”

Harry smirked, nearly getting all worked up again at the thought of his angel skipping classes just to spend time with him. “Good…” He then cleared his throat and sat up so he could look at you, “I want you to have this.”

He removed his signature cross necklace from around his neck and motioned for you to sit up as well. “Harry… I couldn’t”

“You can.” He pressed, placing the necklace over your head. He eyed the way it fell right between your breasts and pulled your hair out from underneath it so it wouldn’t get tangled. “Always wear this, y/n. I mean it. The moment I take you into the city there will be people who care that you know me and they’ll use it against me.” Harry played with the cross between two fingers, rubbing his thumb over the front of it, “Wearing this… it’s a protection.”

“How?...” You whispered, looking between the necklace and his gorgeous green eyes.

“Because this-” his hand fell to your thigh, squeezing over the plastic film of your tattoo, “-tells me that you’re mine and this-” he grabbed the chain again, tugging it ever so slightly, “tells the entire fucking world.”

━━━━━━ ♡ ━━━━━━━ ━━━━━━ ♡ ━━━━━━━

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creature-wizard · 4 months ago

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Continuing on the topic of connection being not a feeling, but a rather a set of circumstances in which you are engaging and participating, I think a lot of people out there just don't realize how dangerous the way many of us have been taught to think of feelings in relation to spirituality really is.

Like Zan pointed out, Evangelical Christians are taught that positive emotions are actually the Lord moving through them, rather than their own personal reactions to their experiences. Meanwhile, Evangelical church services are deliberately engineered to elicit these kinds of of feelings in people. It's pure emotional manipulation.

Similar ideas are found in New Age spirituality, where "spiritual discernment" is frequently boiled down to "does it make me feel good or not?" People are taught to evaluate politically charged information based on whether it, for lack of a better term, sparks joy. Now, determining whether or not something sparks joy is a wonderful way to decide whether you want to keep your old tea kettle, but here we're talking about information that people will base crucial personal and political choices on.

Meanwhile, New Age influencers do everything they can to make sure they're sparking joy for you. Let's take Paul White Gold Eagle, for example. His videos are constantly talking about things that sound exciting, like messages from archangels, dragons of light, and emerald transmissions. This type of baiting - joybaiting, I'll call it - is meant to hook you emotionally and make you think that this has to be true because it elicits that oooough, shiny reaction. Next thing you know, you've been joybaited into falling down the conspirituality pipeline and you believe some version of QAnon's conspiracy theories.

This kind of thinking is even dangerous in pagan circles. You find yourself thinking about a thing and noticing a lot? You feel an intense pull to study it? You'll find people out there telling you that you have a spiritual connection to it, like, maybe you were part of it in a past life. And maybe you go and get a past life reading, or even undergo hypnosis. And now you, the whitest gal in the surburb with zero familial connections to any Native people, feel entitled to appropriate some form of Native spirituality because you felt fascination with it, or what you thought it was, and now you're contributing to white sage decimation and spreading around some sort of Native-flavored form of neopaganism as if it's actual Native spirituality.

Or maybe you fall in with a neopagan cult leader who uses your fascination to convince you that you knew each other in a past life, and you were led to them in this life so you could continue some important work in this life, and they pull you completely into their bullshit.

Finally, it's dangerous because it encourages stalkers. A lot of stalkers are people with incredibly powerful fixations on others. These types of beliefs get them convinced that their victims are actually their soulmates or twin flames or whathaveyou, and make them feel justified in engaging in stalking behavior.

All of this is why it's important to recognize that connection is a circumstance, not a feeling. Your feelings are utterly irrelevant to whether you are actually connected. What most people take for "feeling connected" is literally just fascination or fixation, maybe reinforced by the Baader-Meinhof phenomenon. Real connection is something you cultivate and build, and it does not exist outside of your actual, physical engagement and participation.

#connection #nature #witchcraft #witchblr #pagan #paganblr #connection is not a feeling #spirituality #animism

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bitethedevil · 3 months ago

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Raphael and his Morals: The Analysis Where I Sound Like A Devil Apologist

I see Raphael being characterized as a selfish power-hungry character a lot. And I mean, he definitely is! Don’t get me wrong. I just also think there are more layers to that, so I want to make a little analysis on the deeper level of what kind of rationalization goes through his head when it comes to the whole tadpole business and the Crown of Karsus.

The Pact Primeval

I think that the Pact Primeval is pretty important to understand when it comes to a general understanding of devils. There are multiple versions of this tale, though the one I will go through is the one that the devils tell each other (you can find all of this in Fiendish Codex II).

So basically, in the beginning of everything there was chaos. Out of that chaos came the demons. Lawful deities began to fight that chaos but eventually they got tired of it because there was seemingly an endless supply of demons. The deities couldn’t be bothered anymore because they wanted to make the world and it’s creatures and all of that instead. They then created angels and were like “cool, you go kill all the demons while we have fun making the world”.

One of those angels was Asmodeus. He was described as both beautiful and fierce, and he was amazing at what he did. The trouble was that the more the angels fought the demons, the more traits they came to share with them to fight them more efficiently. They turned ugly and twisted too because the demons they fought were so.

The deities then saw how they had changed, and all said “ew” in unison and said that they did not want those twisted beings living anywhere near them. They tried to banish Asmodeus and the other angels from the Heavens.

Asmodeus was not having that (and understandably so imo). There came a trial and Asmodeus essentially pointed out that “hey, I actually just did what I was made for, and I did it pretty damn well too. We’ve only dirtied our hands so yours can stay clean. If we are to be lawful beings, then this charge is absolutely bullshit”. Asmodeus could “wield the law like a knife” and the deities had to admit that what he was saying was right, so they couldn’t do much.

Eventually, the deities had made intelligent beings and to protect these beings, they made barriers between them and the demons. To their horror, the deities saw that some of the intelligent beings they had so carefully tried to protect, insisted on breaking these barriers and letting demons into their world. The gods were confused and exasperated at this and weren’t sure how to stop them.

That is where out boy Asmodeus comes in with a plan: There should be punishments for those who disobey the gods, or else there will continue to be chaos. So, Asmodeus, Mephistopheles and Dispater, along with the other twisted angels went out and punished the wrong doers.

As these tortured and punished people trickled into the Heavens after their death, the deities once again all said “ew” and pulled in Asmodeus to answer for this. They did not want those punished mortals in their realm, so Asmodeus came with another solution: basically, creating the Hells. All he wanted in return was to be able to draw power from the souls of those he punishes, since they (the twisted angels) cannot draw power from the deities while being separated from them

The gods all agreed and signed what would be known as the Pact Primeval which held these terms. The gods then freak out when they find out that what has now become the devils of the Hells encourage people to do wrong so that they end up in the Hells. When confronted with this by the angry gods who tell him that he can’t possibly be doing this, Asmodeus simply smiles and answers: Read the fine print.

The Morals of Devils

Essentially, devils are focused on the larger picture always. They are basically worker ants. I’ve spoken about this before. The Hells are hierarchical, and everyone has a job to do. Everyone eventually fights in the Blood War and contributes to the greater cause. They are simultaneously aware that they are a part of something greater than themselves AND they also want to further their own ambitions and climb the ladder through promotion.

The main objective is always the Blood War between devils and demons. Defeating the demons have been the point since before the Pact Primeval. In their own minds, they technically are doing good. Defeating chaos is good. It’s the whole point. Now, the ways that they might achieve that might not be good, but that is again the focus on the grander picture that comes in. If a mortal asked a devil why they do as they do, they would tell them that they are the only thing that stands between them and absolute chaos. An honorable cause reached with truly dishonorable means (such as when Asmodeus lures more souls to the Hells to gain power to his war against the demons).

Raphael

Raphael is serving himself with his goal of wanting the Crown but perhaps not entirely for pure power-hungry reasons. Yes, he wants power, but he also shows this exact idea of a devil’s tendency to look at the greater picture. He does say in the end that he wants to end the Blood War (which…yeah. That’s great honey, have fun with that. If all of the gods and Asmodeus failed to do so, a little Crown probably won’t do much). I am of the belief that conquering the Hells could be possible but ending the Blood War seems damn near impossible.

But my point stands: he is concerned with the state of the Hells, and he wants to be the one who fixes all of it, which would no doubt give him a lot of devil cookie-points and clout. It would show daddy dearest and everyone who doubted him that he is good at Being A Devil™.

Even if he just gives us the Hammer and we don’t follow through on giving him the Crown of Karsus, he has still done a lot for the Hells. Raphael and the rest of the Hells are not interested in everyone becoming mindflayers (and thus soulless).

That is the very reason why he detests the Emperor so much and mistrusts him. He does not want us to trust someone who enjoys being a mindflayer like he does, because he knows it leads to someone, if not everyone, losing their soul and thus valuable power to the Hells.

This is all just to say that yes, Raphael is a power-hungry narcissist, but he is also simply a cog in a very large machine. If anything, it is actually surprising that there weren’t more devils in the story who were concerned with how everything was turning out.

There is more nuance to him than simply wanting the Crown and becoming Archdevil Supreme for his own selfish goals. He is simply acting on the morals of what everyone around him has fed him his whole life: that you should work hard and be ambitious so that you can further the cause. The real tragic flaw, however, is that if they actually achieved winning the Blood War, they would simply become the new demons because they have become so much like them by fighting them all those years.

And if Raphael has been fed the same version of the Pact Primeval as mentioned above, it’s no wonder that he is so surprisingly chill about Mystra getting the Crown of Karsus. He sees the gods as incompetent snobs who can��t get anything done properly (and let’s be real here, with what I know of them, I sort of agree), and he knows that eventually they will all start their infighting again at some point.

The biggest overarching problem with Raphael’s plans is the same as his father’s and all the other devils. It’s the fact that they understand the bigger picture but believe that if they had more power then they would be more capable of achieving it than those already in power. It’s this idea that the ones above you are simply incompetent at reaching a goal that is essentially impossible. The demons will keep coming no matter what, but they all believe that they would win if they became the next Asmodeus.

You see it when Raphael mentions that his father is “naught more than a frigid archivist”. Could there be a reason for that, pookie? Could there be a reason as to why Mephistopheles won’t use the Crown? Could it be that Hells greatest wizard might have a better grasp on such things than his son? No, nope, daddy is just being stupid and incompetent.

It’s all arrogance. From a sort of natural selection viewpoint, it makes sense. This arrogance makes the devils more ambitious and thus they work harder as the little worker ants that they are, but the downside is that they will make the exact same mistakes as many before them.

#bite yaps #raphael bg3 #raphael the cambion #bg3 raphael #bg3

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miley1442111 · 6 months ago

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(part 10) final choice- a.donaldson

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summary: after the previous night, something had changed... some choices you both make forces something to happen, something that has been a long time coming.

(dw there are more parts after this :))

pairing: art donaldson x reader, patrick zweig x reader

warnings: angst, depression, hurt, loneliness, eating disorder, SMUT 18+ (not really, just heavy making out), small fluff, etc.

PART 10 of 12

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You stood on the court of the challenger, exhaustion pulling at your tired body. Though, it was truly your mind that was tired. Last night had changed your perspective, changed you. Art was in love with you, still. Even after all this time.

You tried to focus on the game.

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You moved the racket with such precision, your back-hand more powerful than it had ever been, every slide and manoeuvre more calculated and perfect than the last. How was anyone meant to beat you? You were just too good.

HIT.

“We have a winner!”

Stella Riley. She was supposed to be ‘the best’, she hadn’t beat you yet. She’d been undefeated in recent months, and you just broke her streak. Oops.

And that’s how you ended up with a black eye, sitting in the medics tent. Oh, how you loved people who couldn’t just keep their anger in.

The door opened and you didn’t even bother looking, knowing it would be some reporter, or someone from her team begging you not to sue.

But it wasn’t either of those things. It was Patrick, clad in one of his old tennis shirts and a very worried look on his face.

“Are you alright?” He asked, pulling up a chair beside you.

“I’m fine,” you sighed. “Nothing like a punch to the face.”

He chuckled, taking your hand and bringing it to his lips to press soft kisses to the bruised skin. You’d gotten a hit in too, one directly to her jaw, oops. “You were so amazing out there.”

“Thanks Pat,” you smiled softly.

You’d been running into Patrick more in the past few years, things with his dad’s company and other rich-people bullshit you didn’t care about. But, it reminded you of when you were all young, the three of you. Always running around Patrick’s family estate, causing trouble, playing a lot of tennis, and just being kids.

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“I’ll race ya’!” Patrick shouted, running off into the distance. You and Art shared a laugh, then ran after him, tennis rackets in hand. You ran through the foliage of the small forest on the property, Art hot on your heels as you giggled, childhood carefreeness, go-figure.

Ever then you knew. Even then you knew you were in love with Art. Even then it was just growing.

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As much as Patrick would refuse to admit it, he’d grown quite fond of seeing you on a regular basis and he started to see you a… different way. You were beautiful. You were talented. You were nice. You were pleasant to talk to, and clearly lonely. Patrick was lonely too. Patrick wanted you. And he had a plan.

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“I’ll walk you back to your hotel,” he nodded, helping you up. You two walked in a charged silence, his hand holding yours.

The streets were relatively quiet, especially for the time of day. Had you not been lost in thought, still thinking over last night with Art and Lily, maybe you would’ve noticed the paparazzo taking pictures of you and Patrick. Of you and Patrick holding hands. Of you and Patrick looking like a couple.

He walked you up to your room, gave you a hug, and left you to your profound contemplation, a certain smirk plastered on his lips.

He was slightly an asshole.

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Art paced the bathroom of his hotel room, staring at the pictures that had been released. You and Patrick were together. He’d lost you to Patrick, again. But… last night. You’d almost kissed him. You’d held his hand. You’d been there, when Tashi wasn’t. There for him, and for Lily. He’d wanted a night like that for his entire life. Seeing you play a sweet game of tennis with his kid, even if she wasn’t also your kid. Art needed answers.

Art needed you.

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After putting Lily to sleep, he sneaked out of the hotel room as Tashi did the same. You were sitting in your hotel room, staring at the shitty sitcom on the TV as a million thoughts ran through your head. 4 weeks ago your phone had been taken away from you, since you’d tried to call a major news outlet to expose the way you were being treated by your management. You didn’t know about the photos. You didn’t know what Patrick had done.

Knock, knock, knock.

“Go away,” you called to the door, a lit cigarette in hand as you smoked out the window.

KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK.

“Fuck’s sake,” you mumbled and unlock the door, Art barging in. “Oh. Hi," you out out your ciagrette, trying to get rid of the smoke.

“What is this?” He asked, eyes frantic as he handed you his phone.

“A photo of me and Patrick?” You answered, looking at it. “He walked me back to my hotel.”

Art looked heartbroken. “So you’re together again?-”

“Who the fuck said that?” you exclaimed.

“The New York Times, The Guardian, the Washington Post-”

“Art, breathe-”

“I do not need to breathe! I need to know if you’re with Patrick again!”

“Why?! Why would it matter?!”

“Just tell me!”

“Tell me why it matters?”

“So you two are together again?!”

“Explain why it matters to you so much?! You’re with Tashi! You’re married!”

“Because if you two are together it means that last night meant nothing… a-and the past decade of my life has been a waste!” He boomed, then stared at you with pleading eyes.

You stared back for a moment. “We’re not together.”

The look of relief on Art’s face was comparable to his face when he wins.

Art moved without thinking, his body reacting to you like he used to. A hand grabbing your waist, the other cupping your face. His lips on yours, his body against you.

Electric.

His touch set everything in you alight. You immediately kissed back, allowing him to lead your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. His hair was shorter, but it still felt the same. Soft and curly, none of the awful hair-gel his team put in it. Nothing like the stuff Tashi makes them put in. As he deepened the kiss, his tongue invading your mouth, you felt his hand inch up your top. It had been years since you’d had sex with someone and, were you really about to fuck Art? A father? A married man? Then again, he was also the love of your life.

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He was in heaven. Having his hands on you and your hands on him in return. You tasted the same, you felt the same, but it was all different. You two weren’t 19 anymore. You were adults, and if he went through with what he wanted to do, he’d be an adulterer. But he wouldn’t be the only one. He’d known about Tashi’s cheating for years, but something in him said that he’d come around and love him like you had.

That never happened.

Next was the issue of his… problem. What if he couldn’t get hard? What if he ruined all of this and freaked you out?

When he heard you moan into his mouth as he kissed you, he knew neither of those things would be an issue. God, he was so in love with you, and ridiculously attracted to you.

“Fuck,” he groaned into your mouth, the sloppy kiss breaking apart slightly for the both of you to get some needed air. “Can we-?”

“Yes,” you practically whined. Art nodded, a smirk growing on his face as you both started to strip down to nothing. You laid back on the bed, propping yourself up on your arms as you waited for Art to make the next move. His hand traced your jaw, a smile on his face.

“You’re so beautiful, even with a black eye,” he chuckled. You chuckled, then he kissed you again.

Were you really doing this?

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art donaldson masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)

people who asked to be tagged :)

@fkaams

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#art donaldson smut #art challengers #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson #art donaldson fic #challengers 2024 #challengers #tashi donaldson #patrick zweig #challengers movie #mike faist x reader #mike faist #tashi duncan #josh oconnor

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nicromancytarot · 6 months ago

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WHAT DO YOU NEED TO FOCUS ON RIGHT NOW?

This is a general reading based on a collective of people. Take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. If you don’t feel the pile resonates with you, don’t be scared to try another, if it still doesn’t feel right, that’s ok! Maybe our energies aren’t as connected and my readings are not for you.

I do these strictly for fun and educational purposes. I do not charge for these readings, and I do not fake readings. I would tell you the cards I get for the readings, but I pull like 15-20 cards each reading and that is just slightly a strenuous task to write them all down lmao.

PICK A CARD TAROT READING

I asked my spirit guides what you need to focus on right now, pick a picture and find out what they had to say!

Pile 1 ———> Pile 2 ———> Pile 3

Pile 4 ———> Pile 5 ———> Pile 6

PILE 1

Maintaining relationships and friendships is the most important thing for you guys right now. It’s been proven hard for people to hold up friendships and relationships of those who they are about, as lots of people are becoming less tolerant towards bullshit. Perhaps you’re not being the best version of yourself towards your friends right now. I’d recommend taking a look inside yourself and figuring out what is making you act out in possibly not the best ways, and how can you help yourself, and make up with others in the process?

PILE 2

You guys need to focus on your money and how you are treating it, I don’t know if you’re being too lenient, or too stubborn with your spending, some of you will fit into their of these. Make sure you spend responsibly. For those of who who have the money and are scared to spend it because you fear you will lose it, you won’t - you can spend an amount without worrying about not making it back, because you will gain that back. For those of you who are the opposite and spending too much, or too impulsively, take a breather and allow yourself to take a break from spending for this next month, only spend money on necessities.

PILE 3

You guys have a decision that you need to make right now, something in which you are very confused or stuck towards. I’m assuming this decision to be quite life changing for you guys, so get thinking and try to figure out the best choice for you. Not to scare you my pile 3’s, however if you don’t make this decision and choose the direction or path you desire to go down, the universe will do it for you, and they will lead you to that tower moment to get rid of everything and start again.

PILE 4

This is a very specific message, so if it doesn’t resonate, choose another pile. For the ones of you who this does resonate with, you guys seem to currently be struggling on whether or not you want to give your heart to someone. You may have been hurt in the past and now worried about opening yourself up to a person in such a way. Don’t stress so much about this, you will find and make the decision that is right for you.

PILE 5

Focus on your healing journey so those around you who have hurt you and caused you great sadness will be able to feel that of what they made you experience. Your reading is themed heavily around karma that can only be achieved once you heal yourself and accept that these people hurt you. Take your time, not too much, but allow yourself to figure out who these people were and what they did to you. You are so incredibly powerful, the universe wants you to heal so they can have your back and get at those who have hurt you. For a very select few or you, this could theme around legal trouble, gather your evidence and keep it all orderly for when you need to speak about it.

PILE 6

You guys need a breather, take some time to just relax, rest, stop doing so much. You guys are very busy, some of you are really into the whole nightlife scene, and are constantly out partying until early hours of the morning. Take a moment from it and relax, you need to rest instead of working or doing so much constantly. Allow yourself to relax for the love of god. SLEEP.

#tarot #tarotblr #tarotcommunity #tarot witch #free tarot #tarot reading #tarot cards #pick a card #pick a pile

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dairy-farmer · 1 year ago

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So I'm pretty sure you have a story that's basically Red Robin only fucks on missions. But have you considered the opposite? Tim is a consummate professional at all times during missions or his WE work. He does not flirt, make bedroom eyes, or even make suggestive comments at all, and will in fact tear to anyone who does: such as one memorable occasion when he came across Batman and Catwoman getting frisky on a roof.

This is lead to the Justice League assuming he's a prude and/or of virgin. Except any time they try to bring that up to the bats or the core four They tend to clam up and look shifty. This is because Tim is a complete slut when he's not working. It's like that joke about so-and-so cry is during sex and then the responses no they cry before sex and after sex but during sex they have a goddamn mission to do. But the opposite: Tim fucks before missions and after missions, but during missions he's got a goddamn job to do.

One time with Young Justice, Kon tries flirting with Tim and gets shot down and yelled at immediately. Later on he goes to Tim's room to apologize while Tim is finishing up the mission report. He says he's sorry for flirting during the mission, and Tim tells him not to do it again and submits the report... Before pouncing on Kon and suggesting they fuck right now immediately.

The Bats are always trying to figure out a way to be the one around as soon as he finishes up a mission / mission report / gets home from WE, because Tim is insatiable outside work.

Unfortunately, that also means a lot of people getting blue balls whenever a mission comes up unexpectedly, because Tim will hop off whatever dick he's on and immediately get to work, and refuses any advances until the job is done and no amount of begging or bargaining will change his mind.

ooooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1 YESSSSSSSSSS!!!! i love tim being SO good at separation of his private life and his professional life. he takes his job VERY seriously. he puts the utmost effort and attention to it and that petty 'relationship' bullshit does not have a place on the field because while he was training as robin dick would tell him about all the drama and gossip. he'd talk about it like they were two highschoolers at a lunch table and tim felt...disapproval.

he understood that some capes had been doing their job for years, they had experience under their belt and so maybe they had a better handle on the situation than they let on and it allowed them to flirt and make charged comments while in a serious situation. other capes had powers, super speed, super strength, etc, etc.

tim didn't. tim was a greenhorn through and through. he had no powers and he was small. he had to work 10, 20, 30 times harder.

tim would hold the lives of people in his hands. the difference between someone living or dying could be seconds, inches. tim had to be faster, smarter. he had to take his job seriously. some people were going to be experiencing the worst day of their life and tim had to be able to give them all his attention.

tim imagined what he would feel. if he'd just gotten mugged and thoroughly beaten and found out that batman was too slow to save him because he was too busy making the moves on catwoman six blocks away. tim, in that moment, can't imagine it. but he figures out very quickly that he would've been fucking furious.

bruce is an adult. he can have adult relationships. he's been doing his job for longer than tim has been alive. tim knows that. he respects that.

but he's picking up slack. he knows batman is meeting catwoman for info and it's just bad luck that tim ends up caught between stopping a thief that tripped a silent alarm and some drunk kid on a joy ride who almost crushed a pedestrian under his wheels. but tim handles it. he's been trained to. but with those two things going on he's almost too late to stop the monster that pulls a girl into an alley a few streets away and starts undressing her.

she's mute. tim sees it on her medical bracelet. it's why he couldn't hear screams or cries. but the alley was right over his and batman's patrol route and...he got lucky. he got there in time. she's horribly shaken but not as badly as she would've been if he'd been moments too late. moments. seconds. tim could've been too late. he would've been there sooner if he'd had a second set of hands.

tim really hoped the info batman got was worth it.

tim is angry. he's clenching his jaw in anger because some of the things he sees in gotham aren't easy to shake off. he reassures himself that the girl is safe now. that the paramedics will make sure she's stabilized and the hospital will call her parents.

tim lands on a nearby roof and sees batman and catwoman straightening their suits, sees catwoman fixing her lipstick in a mirror compact, sees bruce subtly adjust his crotch plate and....tim stops.

tim is not stupid. so he holds his tongue until catwoman is gone. she's not a hero. she's never claimed to be so he has no place to yell at her. tim also can't let her see him fighting with bruce. it pokes a hole in their teamwork dynamic. tim waits until she's several blocks away and bruce is gruffly talking about patrol and looking into a few things.

he's walking towards the edge of a roof and tim is silent and tense by his side. he waits until bruce is done talking to speak.

"did you get your dick sucked?"

bruce doesn't make a sound. he doesn't stumble. but he does stop.

"i hope you did. i hope the thirty minutes it took you to wrap up whatever bullshit you were doing with her was worth the girl i almost didn't save!"

tim's voice grows in volume and anger at how fucking reckless bruce was. this was not batman's fucking job. to sit on his ass and get fellatio on a rooftop while the people of gotham were brutalized.

what the fuck was he thinking? tim has been mad at batman before. he's vocalized his displeasure, whined about him being unfair but he has never been. this. upset. before.

bruce turns to face him. his lips are pursed and curved down in that silently dissatisfied way he always does when he's about to lecture tim but tim won't let him. he is not the one who is wrong this time. and tim won't let him go on thinking that what he was doing was okay.

tim steps closer, stepping nearly toe to toe with bruce and sharply poking bruce's chest armor with his finger.

" if you want to get your dick wet that's fine, i don't give a shit." tim is on his toes. bruce has to tilt his head down and their noses are almost touching. if someone was watching them they'd probably look ridiculous but tim's not worried about that. "i swear to god you better not pull this 'cat and bat' routine on patrol again, do you understand me?"

tim's voice is at a near growl, his teeth are grinding and he's almost certain his vision is going red.

"you do that shit when you're off the fucking clock or next time i won't be so nice to you or her."

catwoman gets a pass. this time. this one time.

but they're grown fucking adults and they should know better. tim's still a kid and HE knows better. HE has the self control to keep his pussy tucked away while on the job. it's not like tim is chaste or a prude. tim hasn't been a virgin since summer camp when he was twelve and he...gets around.

tim is stone silent to bruce for the rest of patrol. he's angry and frustrated and he works his anger out on the scum of the night.

when they return to the cave bruce is tensed and quiet. tim knows he doesn't like scoldings. he doesn't like reprimands. and he doesn't like being yelled at.

normally tim would be the one to apologize in their fights. he'd be the one to try and keep the peace but not this time. not for this. tim won't apologize for being right.

he might be young and he might be new to the 'business' but his gut tells him that bruce's actions that night and likely every night that he did that were utterly unacceptable.

tim never apologizes for his words and bruce is tense, quiet, and awkward for a few more days before he approaches tim.

by that point tim's anger has faded. he's checked up on the girl from the alley. she wasn't badly hurt. tim left some pamphlets for free counseling services offered by W.E in the mailbox of her parent's house and he watched as her father drove and picked her up each night from her night school.

he's not as angry anymore but he is sticking to his guns. they got lucky this time. tim got there in time. but if they'd been working together as they should've been, it never would've gone as far as it did.

when bruce approaches tim's bench he's towering and glowering like usual. his jaw is tight and his body language speaks of discomfort which is a rare sight. he tries to start the conversation about how sex is natural for adults, that bruce hadn't meant what he and catwoman did to make tim uncomfortable and that-

tim cuts him off pretty quickly because bruce is clearly misunderstanding something. bruce could fuck tim's mother in front of him and he still probably wouldn't give a shit. that's not tim's problem. tim's not squeamish about sex, he does it all the time. but tim's problem was with bruce doing it in the suit. his problem was bruce neglecting his job and duty in favor of a quickie.

that pissed tim off. that was what tim yelled at him for.

bruce's expression does a little shift at tim's words before looking away from him.

he doesn't wander off but he doesn't say anything more about it so tim goes back to work. either bruce will say something or he won't. either way tim still has preparations to make with his gear for patrol. tim is fiddling with his utility belt when bruce's deep voice pipes up again.

"you feel very strongly about this."

it doesn't sound like a question but tim nods and makes a sound of assent.

tim is holding a precision screwdriver and tightening a few of the smaller bolts when bruce lets out a breath and puts a firm hand on tim's shoulder. he tightens it slightly to catch tim's eye and tim looks up at him.

bruce is still looking away, avoiding his gaze slightly but those eyes are dragged to meet his. there is some resolve in them.

"i won't do it again tim. i promise. i'm sorry that i put you into a tight spot and i'm sorry that i neglected my duties. i'll make sure to keep that confined to my private life, you won't have to worry about that again."

bruce doesn't do lip service and he doesn't apologize for nothing.

so tim believes him. bruce is not a bad person and he didn't know about that girl. it was wrong of tim to have blamed him for it when the only one who had any responsibility for it was that piece of crap that was sitting in a cell nursing some bruises and a broken tooth.

tim tells him as such. he apologizes, he tells bruce that it really wasn't his fault, that he couldn't have known.

bruce thanks him and the two of them are back. the air is a little awkward for a little longer but the two of them are awkward in general so it's not a big deal. bruce decides to break the remaining tension by offering to help tim with his belt modifications. bruce has a magnifying light shining down on a stubborn screw and tim is holding it still while bruce has the tool. tim is so engrossed in counting the number of clockwise rotations that he almost misses bruce's next question.

"what did you mean when you said you 'did it all the time'?"

the ice breaker following tim and bruce's first actual fight is bruce slowly nodding at learning that his third robin was a slut.

it's not the last fight bruce and tim have. but it is the last one they have as batman and robin. bruce and tim's other fights mostly consist of bruce criticizing tim's choice in partners and tim telling bruce that he didn't care about the person, all he wanted was their dick in his pussy.

eventually, it leads to dick similarly joining in when he witnesses a fierce argument in the car between bruce and tim and how tim was just 'being petty' by 'sliding in the dms' of old classmates from bruce's graduating class.

"but timmy, that guy is too old for you!"

dick's comment leads to him begging tim on the outside of his locked bedroom door to be "reasonable" and that all the guys dick graduated were rich pricks!

turns out tim can be petty. vindictively petty. and he also can and will sleep with anyone they know if they don't keep their comments to themselves.

so clearly they have to do something. they have to save tim from making bad choices in his youth.

they figure out that tim's sex drive stems almost entirely from the stress of his job as robin. within the hour of finishing patrol tim will have some guy willingly making the drive from gotham to his dad's house next door to fuck him.

words about 'high risk behavior' fall on deaf ears because tim is young and he 'needs' some way to be able to unwind from being robin because if he doesn't he might have a stroke.

dick worries that one of those guys will be a serial killer and so he keeps a close eye on tim. he's pacing and stressed while telling bruce about how half those guys don't even use condoms! what if tim gets pregnant, what if they give him something!!!

bruce is similarly upset.

really...they're pushed to do it.

they won't pretend like they don't also have needs. both he and dick agree with tim's words about not being distracted on patrol.

bruce keeps things professional with catwoman but selina doesn't seem all that receptive to bruce's approaches.

dick usually flirts with barbara in person but on comms she's been distant and terse after he turned her down or told her to 'keep the line professional'.

dick and bruce don't have a great track record with interpersonal relationships and so they've clearly fucked up somewhere along the line.

naturally that meant no more pussy for them.

sure they could just go out and find someone like tim but...well...tim was someone people would do anything to sleep with.

bruce and dick are attractive but women aren't about to get-up-in-the-middle-of-the-night-and-drive-to-the-manor-to-fuck-them attractive.

so their solution is born more from a place of need and a desire to protect tim.

the only problem is figuring out how they're going to share tim.

bruce will arrive at the manor first and be cleaned and ready in his bedroom for tim only to find out that tim started riding dick in the shower, frantically fucking and slamming his tight little pussy down on dick's cock.

dick will arrive to the manor, eager, only for tim to stumble out of the batmobile because bruce tugged him onto his cock as soon as they were parked in the cave.

sometimes tim will push away their advances and immediately start for the batcomputer because he has a lead he wants to follow up on. it will be minutes to hours before tim will turn around and crawling into their laps while grinding his sweet baby cunt on their covered cocks.

it's a struggle. sometimes bruce will get to fuck tim three nights in a row and other times dick will get him for a whole week.

they figure out that tim is willing to fuck before patrol and it's only during patrol that is off limits.

but...tim is so much hornier and his pussy is so much tighter directly after patrol because he's fucking his frustration out by roughly riding their cocks.

tim is their little secret until the family expands.

on other teams, with other capes tim is strictly chaste and professional which they're quietly grateful for because the last thing they want is more competition for tim pussy.

capes all tend to know each other and following tim joining bruce on a justice league operation tim's reputation as a very professional and 'has-a-larger-stick-than-batman's-up-his-butt' personality spread.

it's not...quite a mean moniker. but some of the more flirtatious capes like to bee line to tim and whisper pick up lines and make implications about tim maybe coming over to their place after the mission. they do it to see tim's deep frown and tense rejections as well as occasional reprimands.

tim doesn't hesitate to correct other vigilantes if they're wrong or if they cross the line but mostly tim holds his tongue with capes higher on the pecking order.

tim's yj team pick up on it but don't seem to realize that tim won't hesitate to rip them a new asshole if they try to pull the same shit.

while yj like to joke around they do take their job seriously. they want to be taken seriously so they don't often joke in front of the bigger capes or their mentors.

but then superboy makes a mistake. it happens sometimes and tim corrects him and lectures him. but this time the justice league is in hearing distance and...and kon flirts when he's nervous and trying to hide it. he hasn't done it in a while and he...he really doesn't mean to make robin mad.

at first robin is just scolding him, telling him not to deviate from the plan again, that he knows better and that they're a team.

and usually superboy will roll his eyes and take it. but he swears he can feel superman side eyeing him... it's probably in his head because superman doesn't give a shit about him but kon can't shake the feeling so he...propositions tim to get him to ease up.

he calls robin 'sweetheart' and he talks about how he can tell tim's panties are all in a bunch and that kon is very good with his hands and can fix that for him. he adds a wink and...

tim is not a yeller. but when he's pissed everyone in a ten mile radius can feel it.

his words are low and biting. his frown is cutting and his eyes are cold and angry as he leans in close to tell kon what he thinks of his words.

kon fills with shame when tim tells him how utterly inappropriate he's being and that this wasn't how he should speak to people who were his friends. this wasn't how he should speak to teammates and this wasn't how he should speak to strangers. tim asked what part of tim's lecture invited kon to make those comments? what part of tim's demeanor or frustration with the situation and unhappiness that kon had deviated from the plan told him that tim would at all be entertained by his proposition?

if nobody in the justice league was paying attention before well they certainly were now. kon fucked himself by opening his stupid mouth.

someone, green lantern it sounds like, calls out in a slightly joking tone for robin to ease up on kon and kon wishes he could've shook his head and made an 'X' with his hands to signal that no one should interfere when robin is (rightly) angry.

robin is just as cold and biting when he turns and in a tight voice says that he's just doing his job and he'd appreciate it if people could learn that their 'cute' little words about fucking him weren't welcome when he was trying to do his fucking job.

kon flinches at that because robin doesn't curse. ever.

kon takes the verbal lashing. it's humiliating. but nowhere near humiliating at knowing that he might have just broken something between him and robin.

at the base. cassie retreats somewhere with bart who keeps glancing back at kon who is shifting back and forth between feet outside tim's room where tim is typing his mission report for batman. batman had wanted tim to follow him back to gotham in the batplane but tim has insisted on finishing some work with yj.

kon needs to apologize. not just because he was wrong but also because tim was his friend and the last thing kon ever wanted was to make him uncomfortable with his comments.

so he does.

he hangs his head and sincerely apologizes to tim about his words, that he won't ever do it again, that he feels ashamed and that he hopes tim will forgive him. that he doesn't know why he said such stupid shit but that clark had been there and clark being there always leads to kon making an ass of himself and he's so sorry that he'd said those things to tim.

tim stares at him and softly accepts his apology and that he shouldn't do that again while they're working. that kon is one of his closest friends and he's happy that he came to tim's room...

a moment later tim makes a click with the mouse of his computer and closes it before setting it to a side table.

kon is fiddling with his hands in front of him only a few inches from where tim is sitting. as soon as the laptop is away kon has a few seconds before he's on his back on tim's bed with a lapful of squirming robin who is working off his suit and belt.

kon is SO confused and staring up at tim who is pawing at kon's suit.

"want to fuck now?"

oh kon must be having a stroke because there is NO way this is happening. he manages to mumble something about professionalism and how hadn't tim just been saying something like that-?

tim tilts his head like a confused puppy and stares down at kon.

"yeah. but i'm not working now."

and that's all the permission kon needs.

he'd always internally thought about how tim would secretly be a freak in the sheets given how quiet and serious he was.

he's right. tim is.

kon can barely feel his cock the next morning. he hadn't even known balls could be sore but they are.

kon is hoping for a repeat but batman arrives and skirts tim away. something about gotham business and so kon is left just staring into space knowing that he now knows how tight tim goes when he's cumming on kon's cock.

tim gets shared occasionally by non-bats. if they're lucky enough to be around when tim's out of work mode and horny (which is almost always).

when tim becomes CEO his open slots for hot, sloppy sex doubles overnight. the family couldn't be happier even if it is a challenge to get to tim before someone else. and also the fact that when they're fucking tim they have to cross their fingers that no one will call his emergency beacon during sex because tim will immediately go from sweetly panting and moaning on their cocks to pulling his sweet baby cunt up and off to respond to an immediate call for his assistance.

the first time it happens to dick he follows tim all the way down the hall in just a sheet while begging tim to come back, that they were both so close. if tim didn't want to finish that was alright but could he at least just bend over slightly for a few moments because dick swore he could cum in just a few pumps- please timmy!

bruce once makes the mistake of tightening his grip on tim's hips, refusing to let him go and speeding up because he's so close-

he ends up with a black eye and nursing an icepack while tim sits at the end of the bed, curled over on his laptop and searching out some evidence that barbara requested of him. it's hours before tim is done and riding him again. bruce gets to cum but he's also stuck with a sore eye and having to wear makeup for two weeks.

it's a careful balance. but a worthwhile one.

#answered asks #asks #anonymous #brutim #dicktim

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luneytodd · 5 days ago

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I’m about to start fist fighting mfs in the mouthwashing fandom because everyone likes to give me shit when I say “Curly should’ve thrown Jimmy in the cryopod when he learned about what he was doing to Anya” BUT NOBODY HAS GIVEN ME A VALID REASON AS TO WHY HE COULDN’T HAVE

“tHeY nEeD a cO-piLoT” THEY HAD AN AUTOPILOT!!! One that seemingly worked pretty well too until SOMEBODY got his hands on it. Also you mean to tell me they had a gun on the ship in case of “unrest among crew members” but absolutely NO backup plan in case something happened to the co pilot?? I find that outrageously hard to believe.

“WhY WoUlD tHeY giVE tHe oNLy sUrviVAL pOd To a RaPiSt?” I’m going to spit in your face. I’ve heard this argument so many times it has actually killed my brain cells. So in case this wasn’t 100% clear for whatever reason my suggestion is that they would do this course of action *before* he crashed the ship when there were still (correct me if I’m wrong with this number cause I don’t remember the exact details) THREE working pods, not one. Ideally, Curly would’ve done this as soon as Anya told him about the abuse but the second best time in my opinion would’ve been when Jimmy went on the whole “kill everyone, leave us as martyrs” rant. I don’t give a single fuck what any of you dense motherfuckers say to me ever if MY FRIEND approached me and threatened not only my life but the lives of every single one of my coworkers I’d charge tackle his ass into the pod myself, or at least bribe Swansea to do it.

“tHeY wOuLdn’T gEt pAiD fOr tHe JoB bEcAuSE OF ThE uNNeCeSSArY pOd UsAgE” First of all, fuck you. Genuinely. Second of all, THEY’RE ALL FIRED!!! NO MATTER WHAT!!! INDUSTRY WENT BYE BYE!!! For all intents and purposes, that paycheck would’ve been the filler between this venture and the next. Would losing that be absolutely devastating for some of the people involved? It’s very possible. I don’t know their individual financial statuses and I’m not gonna stand here and argue “they all would’ve been completely fine without the money”. But you know what’s even more devastating than losing your financial safety net? LOSING YOUR GODDAMN LIVES!!! Also in general if you’re prioritizing your own financial interests over the health and wellbeing of the people around you, you are scum arguing for scummy shit and I reiterate my earlier “Fuck you” with an additional “go to hell” just for emphasis. I don’t think a lot of people are making this argument because I’m literally sourcing it from a few randos on tik tok but goddamn if your views align with these particular tik tok randos please for the love of god just block me cause I despise you and everything you stand for.

And like the thing I really want to get across with this entire rant is that I don’t think Curly specifically was an awful person for not taking the absolute most drastic measures every single time Jimmy said some fucked up bullshit. But I’m so so SO over the trend of people acting like he was perfect and there was absolutely nothing he could’ve said or done because Jimmy is this master manipulator who was pulling the strings the entire time cause I also think that’s also total bullshit. I think there were a lot of opportunities to recognize the red flags and I am so fucking tired of this fandom acting like he couldn’t have done something- LITERALLY ANYTHING to help.

#mouthwashing #curly mouthwashing #jimmy mouthwashing #sorry for the rant #i got a little too silly

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dootznbootz · 9 months ago

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Hi, what do you think about epic the musical as an Odyssey fan? Just curious

As an Epic the musical fan, I LOVE IT! Everyone's so talented and I love the music style!!! It's super fun and creative and it's amazing that Jay basically writes it all himself!

As an Odyssey fan... It's INCREDIBLY different. To the point where it's more "Odyssey inspired" than the actual Odyssey. But that's the thing. I wouldn't say Jay WANTS it to be word for word Odyssey and I DO think that'd be...kind of hard to do? Especially for Modern day.

It still has most of the "spirit" of the Odyssey though I feel like which is SUPER important. I'm saddened that very few adaptations really "balance" Odysseus' assholery and "goodness". I love "shithead Odysseus" but personally, I'm happy as long as an adaptation keeps to a "family man who wants to go home" for the most part :D (I really fucking hate the whole "Odysseus! The clever, swashbuckling hero who gets all the babes! ...He has a family?!" bullshit. That's very much not him. (He likes shiny things, yes but that's it)

More personal rambles below :D

I think it's interesting that Polites in Epic is more "peaceful" when in the Odyssey, he's called "captain of armies". And the fact he's killed right away when he was one of the last men alive.

Also Odysseus' and Eurylochus' friendship! I think it's sweet in the musical while in the Odyssey, it's quite tense. It gets more and more tense in Epic later on obviously but in the odyssey, it's been tense for a WHILE. Also!

Shout out to Armando Julian! Eurylochus' actor! I see a lot of people talk about Polites, Poseidon, Circe, and Hermes and they get a lot of fanart and love with their songs (rightfully so, ofc!!!) but Armando is really talented and people really sleep on Luck Runs Out! I'm about to become a vocal nerd for a moment. He's got a wonderful vibrato! I really love how he sings "feed" during Full Speed Ahead and "Captain, please" during Remember Them for example. His voice really fits with "speaking on behalf of the crew".

I know most people have a lot of feelings with the Circe Saga but I think that Jay did a great job considering... everything. Book 10 and 12 of the Odyssey are very complicated and I don't blame Jay for not wanting to delve into EVERYTHING with that. Odyssey Odysseus gets SA'd twice and while "I'm Not Sorry for Loving You" makes me worry, I really do think Jay will pull through with how fucked up Calypso's situation while still not having the graphic scenes in the Odyssey. It would be very hard to not only have what was basically an exchange for his men to be turned back to humans but if he interprets it happening throughout the entire year like some readers do, then that's really hard. :'D To truly portray Odysseus' fear of Circe while still having her be morally gray. As she very likely didn't mean Odysseus harm after a certain point but he was still afraid regardless.

Not only trying to not have such disturbing stuff shown in his musical but also, I think Jay was possibly trying to be considerate of Madeline Miller's Circe fans while still trying to show Odysseus discomfort and distress???? 😅 Sounds weird but like, as soon as I heard Circe talking about the nymphs being like her daughters and that she protects them, I thought that. That book is HUGE and I'm sure that many fans of it don't necessarily want to see Circe's "I do whatever I want. I don't need a reason. Woe, Oink be upon ye." as the most likely reason they were turned into pigs in the Odyssey is that ODYSSEUS is associated with them (the boar scar, the metaphors when talking about him in the Iliad, his trusted Swineherd Eumeaus, BOAR TUSK HELMET. Like, that's kind of the animal that represents Odysseus. (even when a spear pierces through a boar's hide, it'll STILL charge as they're that ferocious and determined...Just like Odysseus, a man who should be dead but isn't because of his will to go home. Homer didn't write them being turned into pigs necessarily as a "Men are pigs" thing.

I think the modern shift in how the situation seen today and other media of the Odyssey is why he wrote the songs he did. And considering it all? He did a good job navigating it. I'm very happy with the results!

I have more thoughts probably but those have been stewing in my brain for a while :D I definitely look forward to the next sagas!

#Mad rambles #ask #anon #shot by odysseus #silly thing but as I basically write Odysseus (and Penelope) as asexual. whenever I see stuff that's like 'Odysseus pushed aside his lust i #order to stay loyal' I get confused like “He didn't get lust in the first place? OHHHH yeah. My headcanon.”#He wants Penelope. Even if there was an easier “better” woman who might possibly even look similar. he doesn't want it.#like xD I mention him finding Penelope's strange naiad traits but if someone else does the same things she does? He'll still be like 😐

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liquid-luck-00 · 1 year ago

Text

Marks of Magic

Day 9 Witch of Maribat Spooktober 2023

First *** Previous *** Next

Language and cursing is used

1600 Words

~~~~~~~~~~

Mari didn’t have a clue where she was going to land but she didn’t care. And if her suspicions are correct, she isn’t about to be interrupted, by one of the few people she would rather slap across the face, than talk to. Her coat was warm enough, but she summoned a scarf that she wrapped around her neck, covering her up to her nose. She didn’t know why she actually left, just that something, or someone (the kwamii), wanted her to be somewhere.

She walked through Gotham’s streets and of course she would notice them.

Street kids darted through the alleys and it hurt her heart. There was a reason why she helped Prince Ali often, she loved making the kids smile, she loved them since they reminded her of him. So she went into a dinner and ordered a giant pot of chicken soup, with chopped vegetables. Lugged it back to where she saw one of the braver kids, who was the look out as Jay pointed out to her so long ago.

“Go get the others.” She smiled at him but he just watched her suspiciously. She sighed and set the huge container on a sturdy looking box. "It’s only a little thing but…" She scooped out a serving and handed it to him. "I want to help if I can."

The boy tentatively took the cup of soup, but asked her, probably because of her accent she assumes. "Why do you care, you aren’t from around here?"

"A friend of mine was from here and he…" She doesn’t know how to say it. "He got out, he talked about it a lot, so if I can help in some small way."

"They already know." The boy said and just as he did several children walked out of the shadows. She started handing out cups and the smiles and rosy cheeks that the soup warmed made her smile.

The soup should have run out a long time ago but every child received seconds even thirds in some cases.

She kept pouring Mullo’s magic into it, multiplying its contents, and added a bit of heat to it as well, making sure they were all full.

"Miss?" A little girl, she was tiny and couldn’t be more than 6, tugged at her jacket. "Are you a witch?"

"No, I’m not." She lightly brushed the hair from the girls face.

"But that doesn’t make sense. You have to be."

"And why would that be?" She asked in return, not truly expecting the girls response.

"The soup hasn’t finished and it’s still hot."

Mari blinked. She hadn’t thought it through, sure it was a spur of the moment thing, but she didn’t expect them to notice. But she should have expected it, Jay was always more observant of the world around him them than she was. Maybe it was a street kid thing. They had to constantly be on the lookout, constantly on edge, and no child should have to be in that situation.

She smiled and then whispered to the child. "Yeah, I’m a witch."

The little girl’s eyes went wide before she squealed in joy. "What magic…" She stopped mid sentence and paled.

Mari couldn’t hear the children anymore the little girl beside her seems to be the last one. The others left her behind.

"What do you think you’re up to?" A voice to her left, blocking her into the alley, demanded.

She turned towards the voice slowly, pushing the little girl behind her. "I was only trying to help…"

But she was interrupted. "Bullshit. What are you’re really doing?"

The person stepped into the light. Red Hood, from what she recalled, while she was updating herself on the rogues, stepped forward a gun trained on her. She might be able to get away, but she can’t risk the girl.

She slowly pulled the scarf off behind her, placing it around the little girl, bleeding some of her luck into the cloth.

"Run!" She pulled the little girl onto her back charging at the rogue, who acted almost immediately. So she feigned a right, but at the last second dove to her left springing off the wall.

"Shit!" She heard him collide either with the other wall or the ground she couldn’t tell, but didn’t look back. So she ran as far as she could. Sure she noticed that Red Hood seemed to have a soft spot for kids but she didn’t want to chance it.

She stopped when she found a good place to hide the little girl. She tugged the scarf around the child to warm her a bit better. "Hide. And when you think it’s safe go and find the others. You’ll be okay."

"But what about you? He’s a rogue and… "

"Don’t forget." She tapped the child’s nose. "I’m a witch."

She heard heavy footfalls from somewhere above her. And started to run again. She just has to disappear, and what better way that from up high, so she ascended the first fire escape she found. Then a thought occurred to her.

Maybe… just maybe.

•••

All the kids were running off somewhere and he didn’t like it. Something felt weird and it didn’t sit well with him. So he followed behind a few of them until he spotted them.

A group of kids, there were maybe twenty to thirty kids were in an alley and a woman was with them. She seemed friendly enough but he knows no one is nice without a reason, especially towards street kids; even more so in Gotham.

He moved closer, the woman seemed oblivious he was there, and Mary, he recognized came up to her.

"Miss?" Mary tugged at the woman’s jacket. "Are you a witch?"

"No, I’m not." The woman brushed the hair from Mary’s face.

"But that doesn’t make sense. You have to be."

"And why would that be?"

"The soup hasn’t finished and it’s still hot."

The woman smiled and then whispered, Jason was barely able to hear. "Yeah, I’m a witch."

Jason then took action, it didn’t matter how nice she seemed, she just became a danger to these kids.

"What do you think you’re up to?" He stepped forward and most of the kids scurried away. He pulled out a gun and trained it on her.

The woman turned towards him slowly, pushing Mary behind her. "I was only trying to help…"

But he didn’t let her finish. "Bullshit. What are you’re really doing?" He stepped into the light his gun still trained on her. She seemed to freeze.

Good. She should be scared, for what she was going to do.

"Run!" She shouted as she pulled Mary onto her back charging at him. She ran to his left side, and he tried to get Mary away from her, but she dove to his right springing off the wall.

"Shit!" He crashed into the wall, since he over stepped, without having the extra weight and momentum to spin back.

She was gone, but he had to get the kid back safe. He took to the roof tops to get a better vantage point and that was when he saw her duck into another alley. He was going to jump down, but she had climbed up. He could still see Mary clinging to the woman, but they still ran.

The woman, he has to admit must be agile and in good shape. She has kept the same distance between them and doesn’t slow even when jumping between the roof tops. She’s done this before, and that makes this so much worse.

Then she turned, stopping in the middle of a roof. He looked around and noticed all the warehouses, so they were alone. He pulled out both guns, when the air around her rippled. Mary was gone.

"Where’s the girl?!" He barked, at the unknown woman.

"Safe." She smiled, cocky.

Was she going to go back to where she stashed her.

"You’re not as bad as they say." She hummed.

"And what do they say?" He retorted.

"That you’re bloodthirsty, and will tear anyone to shreds."

"And what if they are right?"

She shrugged, stepping forward. "But you care about the kids. And I know that anyone who does at least has some of their humanity."

"At least you can die, with that idea of me." He cocked the gun still in his hand.

"Before you do, I have a favor."

"And why would I do anything for you?"

She grinned, and for a second he remembered Marinette and her ludicrous ideas that always succeeded, but always started with a similar grin. "I want you to help me kill the stupid fucking clown."

"That’s a bit broad isn’t it?" He hasn’t made it known, his personal grudge against the Joker, so why choose him. It couldn’t be just because of his reputation or even this little test she pulled. No there was something else.

"Fine, Joker, narrow enough for you?" She quirked a brow and he lowered his gun slightly.

"What, you have a personal vendetta against him? You, ain’t from Gotham, Pixie."

"I’m not but a good friend of mine was, and Joker killed him in front of me. So yeah it’s personal." She didn’t back down from him, in fact she stepped forward, stopping just in front of him, extending a hand to him.

"You have to be a witch." He holstered his guns, not shaking her hand just yet.

"Yeah I’m a W.I.T.C.H." Her eyes sparked, reminding him of his old friend. "A Woman In Total Control of Herself."

That grin was back on her face, but with that Jason couldn’t help but trust her.

"Fine I’m in."

~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist:

@jennifer-rose123 @toodaloo-kangaroo @joydone07 @mizzy-pop @starling218

#maribat #dc x mlb #mlb x dc #dc x miraculous #miraculous x dc #maribat october prompts #maribat spooktober 2023 #maribat marinette #maribat jason todd

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yes0another0outsiders0blog · 6 months ago

Note

Could you maybe do Darry Curtis x fem! Reader sfw alphabet please? I love your writing btw! :)

Thank you so much, I'm glad you enjoy!! Out of personal preference, I am keeping my SFW Alphabets pretty gender neutral, but you can totally read them as more fem. Sorry, love.

Also, this man is one of my favorite characters in this damn book. I want nothing but the best for him. For some reason putting hcs into words was killing me this time, I'm so sorry if it's noticeable!!!

SFW Alphabet : Darry Curtis

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Not huge on PDA aside from holding hands and a kiss on the cheek. Pretty private about personal (especially romantic) relationships, people will know you two are together, it will be obvious in how you interact, but there isn't much open affection.

Around close friends, the gang, and his brothers, he's a bit (but not much) more affectionate. He'll call you a few pet-names (hun/honey, sweetheart, beautiful), might wrap an arm around you when you're sitting together, little things.

All alone, he'll pull you onto his lap or wrap his hands around your waist while you're doing the dishes, resting his head on you and giving you a quick kiss.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

You know Darry from yalls school days. You two were good, but never quite friends. You interacted with each other, but more in passing or in group settings.

After graduation, you two just didn't really interact at all. You two weren't close or anything, there was never a reason to keep in touch. Later, you cross paths again and catch up a bit.

Being close friends with Darry is just a lot of little things. Having a scheduled day a week where you come over for coffee, going grocery shopping together, hanging out with his brothers a ton, etc. Also, hearing him vent. You're hearing about every single time Ponyboy is an idiot, in great detail. And he also trusts you as someone he can talk out his more serious problems with, because dude is going through TOO MUCH for his age (I'm 22 and my only obligations are myself and 2 cats, I could not IMAGINE being both younger and in charge of anything more serious than the shit I'm dealing with right now, give this man some support and a break, holy hell). He doesn't expect or want you to help with anything at all, he just wants to have an outlet to verbalize whatever is going on. You're there to listen.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Isn't one to cuddle often. That would require him to stay relaxed for an extended period of time and that's rare. Besides being a fairly busy person as *literally the only person in the gang with actual obligations and an ounce of responsibility* and essentially having to be there to put up with all of their bullshit, he is the type of person that needs to do something with his time or he doesn't feel productive. Even when he's going to bed, he is asleep so fast that cuddling isn't really an option, you can cuddle into him but he's already dead asleep so you aren't getting anything back.

If no one is expected to come around (which is rare because the door is always unlocked, his brothers are usually around, you're working with the assumption that someone's going to barge in whenever) he might have you sit on his lap while he reads the paper or something.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Pretty good at cleaning. Things aren't perfect and sometimes life is just hectic so things don't get done, but nothing generally gets absolutely disgusting when he's around. Doesn't mind cleaning, actually quite enjoys it. There may be piles of dirty clothes sometimes or laundry might not get folded or put up right away, and "weekly" chores might be a bit late, but it all gets done.

Good at cooking the basics. Darry is good enough in the kitchen to tweak a recipe on the fly and make it a bit better than it otherwise would be, but he isn't able to make entire meals based on what sounds like it would work out well. Isn't inventing any new dishes or anything.

If he met the right person he'd be willing to reconsider, but Darry mostly sees himself having a pretty traditional life in the future, not really by choice but more because its the 60s and thats whats expected. He's the provider, he works long hours. He would expect you to do the housework and cooking and such. Isn't 100% conservatively split about it, would still absolutely help out some and make dinner on his days off. Again, if you were like "yeah, that's not going to work out, we're going to be tag-teaming on this domestic stuff, I'm going to have my own money" then he'd be totally okay with that. It isn't preferred because there's more of a chance that you'll both be too tired from work and things won't get done, but if it's important to you then it's a compromise he's willing to make.

(I also like making him a househusband. I think if you made BANK and convinced him that you were okay with being the breadwinner, he can be convinced to stay at home and do the domestic work while also doing freelance. He wouldn't have the pressure to make money, so he'd be able to prioritize the home, but he'd also want to not be unemployed so he'd do odd-jobs fixing things for shorter hours than a normal job would have. Less realistic, perhaps, but man's been through it so he deserves to just be taken care of instead of having to take care of others.)

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

The most logical/mature about a relationship ending, but it can come off as a bit cold when you're hurt by it. Darry will sit you down and basically discuss whatever problem there is. He'll say "we either fix this or break up" and mean it. He'll definitely put in the work to solve whatever's going on, but if he feels that he's doing most of the work then it's over. Is disappointed by a breakup, is absolutely sad about it in private and a bit more irritable for a while, but life goes on. Sometimes relationships end, and he frankly doesn't have time to mope about it when that isn't fixing anything.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Would incorporate you into his life pretty quickly (having you stay over and doing dinner/chores/life stuff together). Introduces you to his brothers fast. That's pretty decent commitment because, like I touched on above, Darry can deal with a break up well but it's harder to separate when there are three people that are kind of attached to you rather than just one.

The entire gang really gets along with you, so they're all constantly asking when you and Darry are getting married. Hard to tell if that has any influence on when he proposes, but it's probably about a year or two in. Quick, but not irresponsibly so. Yall stay engaged for a long while, he wants you to be able to have a nice wedding (small and simple, but still nice) so he waits until both of his brothers are actually out of the house and he can *attempt* to save up the tiniest bit for it.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Pretty gentle, but in a stereotypically man way specifically emotionally, if that makes sense? Like, genuinely an amazing boyfriend, treats you so good. But emotions aren't a strong point for him, he likes things that have reason and sound logic behind them. Likes to rationalize things. He'll give advice that you didn't ask for it and you just wanted him to listen, or will tell you that you're problems really aren't urgent/major. Will be very confused when you get upset by that. If you aren't the emotional type, then it's all good!! If you are, then he'll really try to learn when to just not try to "help" when you need him to be more gentle.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Likes hugs. Darry usually wraps his arms around you from behind when you're doing something. Any time he's in a good or sillier mood, you're getting picked up. Loves doing that thing where he, like, lifts you up and spins you around. If he's in a bad mood, he'll get a tiny bit clingy with you and tends to end up in long, silent embraces with you. They really give him comfort.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

A few months, maybe 4? He doesn't want to take things too fast or really anything, so it takes a bit. The gang (especially his brothers, ESPECIALLY Soda) tease the hell out of you two for being so in love way before then, and he usually tells them to shut the hell up. But one day when you're making dinner he comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist like always, and he just says it. Shocked the hell out of both of you, he had a long day and just kind of blurted it out without even really meaning to, but obviously you love him too (how couldn't you?) so it was alright.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Trusts you fully. Does not get jealous hardly ever. If someone was clearly into you and flirting with you, he wouldn't care at all because he's confident you wouldn't be into it. Even if he caught the vibe that you were cheating or you were getting REALLY friendly with someone else, he wouldn't get jealous so much as frustrated that you would cheat instead of just breaking up with him. Very quick to want to talk out any issues, so misunderstandings are usually put to rest there. On the very rare occasion that he does feel jealous, he doesn't even mention it.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Usually a kiss on your forehead or the top of your head, quick and sweet are most common but slow, lingering kisses on the mouth aren't rare either.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Good with kids. Definitely the most responsible with kids, more strict than most. While not the "most fun" for kids out of the gang, Darry is way better than a lot of the gang gives him credit for. If he was in a position where he knew he was going to have to watch some younger kids for a day, he'd make plans to keep them entertained. Take them to the park and for some kind of small treat, would be rather active in playing with them if they wanted him to.

He doesn't want kids for a WHILE, after both of his brothers are out of the house he would prefer to have a few years at least. But kids are an eventually thing for Darry. Just one, maybe two.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

You two wake up fairly early so that he can get ready for work (he doesn't even work THAT early, he's just one of those people that likes to not feel rushed in the morning), you start some coffee and maybe get started on breakfast. Breakfast is eaten, and Darry goes to read the paper while you get ready.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

On an average night when yall don't have any other plans, usually dinner and hanging out with his brothers a bit. Pony goes to bed kind of early if he doesn't have anything better to do because he's a little bitch he has school the next day, and Soda usually finds something to do with his late evening/night. After they're gone, you climb into Darry's lap as he's sitting on his chair and yall just talk for a while until he's literally drifting off mid conversation so you two go to bed.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Doesn't get emotionally vulnerable early on, but also doesn't know the difference between basic information and deeper stuff. You'll say "tell me a bit about yourself" on the first date and he'll instantly start kind of trauma-dumping. You expect some hobbies or something and he'll start getting into how he had to give up on college to take care of his brothers after his parents died and your just sitting there like "damn... I really thought you would just tell me your favorite color or smth..."

Kind of doesn't know what to say, so will just give you various bits of his entire life story whenever something makes him think of some story to tell.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Easily frustrated or annoyed. Harder to properly anger, more likely to happen because it's been building up over several different things and he hits a breaking point.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Would remember most things, but also has the tendency to temporarily forget them. They just slip his mind, the second you mention it he gets hit with an "OH YEAH, I DID KNOW THAT" but he might forget things. Too much stuff, not enough brain space. It's a stress thing, a symptom of anxiety. He tries to remember everything. Big on intentionally doing things to help, he writes dates in a calender and if anything is important he'll make a note and kind of repeat information to himself.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

When you guys made your relationship official. You two had been friends for a little while before even dating, then dated a bit before you had to ask if you two were actually together or not. Darry was already pretty in love with you, tbh, he just wanted to take things slow because if you two were really together then there would be more expectations that he was afraid he couldn't meet. He felt that he couldn't give you the attention that you deserved in an actual relationship. You basically had to say "listen, my love, I *KNOW* that you're going through some shit, and I know your brothers are your top priority, and I know that you can't give me all of your time. I am signing up for this, I care about you and I want to be with you." And, holy fuck, he needed that so damn bad.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Will absolutely protect you if you need it, but hopes you don't need it. Like, if someone is treating you badly when you are literally just minding your own business then he's by your side INSTANTLY. If something happens when he's not there, he is one call away. He'll call someone to check on you usually, but in an emergency he will drop what he's doing for you instantly.

If you were being unsafe, being super unaware of your surroundings or picking a fight or something, he'll obviously still be there for you but will be mad about it. Will tell you to be more careful because that was easily avoidable.

Darry would prefer to just tell anyone messing with you to politely fuck off. Very "is this person bothering you, darlin?" and usually it works because he's a big guy, people aren't usually going to double down on being nasty/creepy/rude to you when he comes over. If need be, he will absolutely kick some guy's ass for you. The second some dude so much as touches you (whether pervy or violent), that dude is getting several broken bones.

If you found yourself in those situations often, he'd probably get you to carry a small knife or a makeshift pepper spray for self defense (pepper spray was invented in the 60s, but wasn't sold to the public until the 80s, but I feel like he would have you carry something similar because it's non-lethal and can be used at a longer range) because he can't really be around you all the time.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Always gives the relationship everything he's got, but what he's got varies wildly. There are going to be periods of time when he is able to put small bits of money aside for gifts and anniversaries, makes sure that he schedules out one date a week just so you two are guaranteed to see each other alone, does what he can around the house so you don't have to do it all, etc. There are also times when he doesn't get to see you or take you on dates, forgets anniversaries and has to make it up to you, etc. It isn't out of lack of effort at all, he feels terrible about it when things get like that, but it happens.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

It takes a lot to convince him to accept help. I think a lot of the guys have this problem, it's a problem that a lot of men have in general and in the 60s the gender expectations went even harder, but Darry can be especially bad about it.

Not only will he not let you help him with things, but he will also get too overwhelmed by having to put energy into a relationship too and will probably want a break (especially in the beginning) if he gets too stressed about other things. After you fight him on it, he'll realize that you actually signed up for this and are totally down to stay with him even when he's busy or exhausted or just doesn't have any time/energy/money to spare for you. He'll still feel hella bad about it, wants you to have someone that can give you the attention that he feels you deserve, but he's not putting your relationship on hold over it anymore.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Knows he looks good as hell, all of the Curtis brothers are super conventionally attractive and they know it. Darry also takes a lot of pride in his body. He isn't vain or overly caught up in his looks, but he isn't oblivious to them either.

He knows he's fine, he cleans up really well when he wants to, he does not care if he looks rough or unfashionable sometimes.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

No. He's whole outside of a relationship, a partner is extra. Very much of the mindset that a healthy relationship is when two whole people create something bigger than themselves.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Loves to know things, very into learning. Always looking into classes (though he doesn't have the money or time to take them, he just likes seeing what's there), huge on the importance of keeping up with the news and current events, reads a lot of nonfiction and watched documentaries. Likes facts, especially history and sciences like biology and earth science. Has a lot of skills that he's picked up and is always looking to pick up more. If you need anything done or you need to know anything that could be considered useless trivia, check with Darry first because there's a good chance he'll have an answer.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Lack of damn common sense, not being able to take a rational and honest answer. He REALLY tries to be understanding about it with the people that he cares about. It's a major issue between him and Ponyboy especially, but it could be a problem with any more emotional person. He doesn't get it at all, so it's SO frustrating when he has to stand by and watch someone make a stupid decision because they just refuse to by logical about it. Even worse when it turns into an argument, because he's usually objectively right but it's so hard to win against someone so intensely emotionally charged even when his points are completely sound and valid.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Sleeps in chairs 80% of the time. Doesn't mean to, he sits too long and he's out, though. Between that and work, he has no right to wonder why when his body is fucked up. No way it isn't catching up to him as he gets older.

#the outsiders #the outsiders x reader #darry curtis #darry curtis x reader #sfw alphabet

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dreamofmetoday · 1 year ago

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JACKSON WANG IDEAL TYPE READING

overall:

he wants someone he feels romantic and sexual chemistry with instantly, even if he were to start off as friends with someone he would ideally want it to be one of those situations where from the beginning you both technically felt that “spark” and knew there was something underlying happening (he really wants to be able to feel his feelings for someone, for it to be exciting and almost teenage-esque). he wants someone deep and complex, but also someone who knows how to have fun - a woman who is easy to get along with, can make jokes and relax but you know she also has a lot of deep thoughts and emotions, she’s intelligent and has opinions. he wants someone who is self-assured and knows what they want - he doesn’t seem to have a problem with some level of insecurity, but he wants someone who at least knows where they stand on some things and is their own person (e.g. if he wants to know your opinion on something, he wants you to able to tell him straight away and to be confident about it - vague or unsure answers are not something he likes and he would especially be annoyed if he thinks you copy all of your opinions from friends and family). he wants someone witty, someone who he can really talk to (engaging conversations) and is warm. he wants someone who values an equal give and take in relationships (he isn’t into someone that wants to be more of the giver but he doesn’t want someone who expects to be spoiled either). he wants someone who does their best to not be a victim and who can also motivate him to become (or stay) resilient.

turn ons:

someone who values privacy and keeping their relationship secret or low-key, someone who can form their own opinion on him (he doesn’t like when he can tell someone has preconceived ideas about him and he also expects that you respect him and let his actions and behaviour speak for itself), someone who has good manners, small waist and a big or firm butt (likes pear shaped and hourglass shaped women), someone who doesn’t edit their photos dramatically, sensitive and nurturing (not rough with things, knows how to be gentle and mature), when he can tell someone doesn’t act on their emotions (can push their emotions aside and do what is logical or professional), someone who isn’t needy for attention, someone who is tidy and cleanly, someone who doesn’t seem down in the dumps all the time (not really someone who’s all “sunshine and rainbows” but just someone who has the vibe that they're going to pull their socks up get on with things), someone who grasps opportunities and takes charge (even in small ways - e.g. if he can tell you’re easily bossed around by your friends he would think that’s sad, or another example: if you’re clothes shopping, he wants you to just buy the jacket you want, not consider if everyone else is going to think it’s ugly or something), someone who plans for the future (and if not a strict planner, someone who at least has a vision for what they want in the future), straight but feminine shoulders (could like when someone wears clothes that show off their shoulders and collarbones), someone who can admit when they’re wrong or come forward with mistakes, delicate feminine hands.

turn offs:

someone who causes or needs drama (he doesn’t want to entertain bullshit essentially, nor is he someone that sees this as “passionate” and exciting - causing arguments for no reason is a huge turn off), someone who always feels the need to tell him how much they love him or want him, someone who needs to be around him all the time or wants to “merge” (he really thinks people should maintain their independence), someone who is in love with love more than him (projects romantic ideals and expectations onto him that you should know don’t suit his personality or clearly don’t represent who he actually is), someone who acts pathetic around him and tries to be too sacrificing (if someone is like, “i would do anything for you. i would die for you” he’s kind of like, “ok, you need to get serious…”), someone who doesn’t value relaxing and peace, someone who’s bad at balancing and has a chaotic nature, someone who tries too hard to appeal to him (if someone says what they thinks he wants to hear and he can tell, this annoys him), someone who can’t stick by him in hard times (if someone is only a good partner when times are good then he’s very disappointed, he doesn't want someone who is only fun), someone with a bad reputation (and someone who doesn’t care what others think, someone who doesn’t care about behaving right), someone super jealous, too skinny, someone built too broadly, someone who doesn’t exercise or take care of themselves, big hands.

#got7 jackson #got7 #jackson wang #kpop #kpop tarot #celebrity tarot #tarot #ideal type reading

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zombiewhor3 · 2 years ago

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WE HAVE RULES!

daryl dixon x fem reader

WARNINGS: violence, mentions of gore, fighting, name calling, language, mentions of possible death (no actual death).

A/N: i know it's been forever i've honestly been so busy with school, after school stuff and lots of managing other accounts like my wattpad i was trying to upload stuff on there so my apologies surely i'll have more chapters and one shots out soon it just depends on my schedule and my motivation :)

she could hear the sound of the hammer hitting the nail into the wooden plank as she felt some sweat running on her forehead, she thanked Henry as she took a cup of water from him.

she patted his head ruffling through his blonde strands of sunshine blonde hair watching as he trotted along passing out water to some of the others who were working on the bridge.

she tucked away her hammer and rolled up the sleeves to her flannel as she took a gaze at the rushing water just below the project they were building, she could see men working and the sound of nails being hit was a constant source of noise around her.

she smiled softly looking at the progress they made so far, sure it was a lot more to be done but she never imagined it could go this far, she wasn't even sure the war with the Saviours could end.

She patted one of the hard working Saviours on the back softly before she made her way off of the bridge and into the clearing of the woods that laid out in front of them.

she followed the path built by Rick and the people from Oceanside, a path that connected all of the groups and all of the territories together, one where it was like a giant camp.

she grabbed a large bowl filled of fresh fruit that was placed out on the table, smiling at one of the curly haired girls who sat carving up a new piece of wood to create a stake as her weapon of choice.

young but fierce-full is how y/n would describe her because she looked no older than the age of ten, maybe even eleven if she had all of her gear on and held her large wooden stake.

y/n had her journey back to the bridge after all she was the one in charge while Daryl was out keeping things together at the Sanctuary and the city of Alexandria.

she held the wooden bowl of fruit in her hand, she stood up on a few slabs of wood and whistled out to call the boys attentions to which they set down their tools in their belts and lined up ready to get their share of the food for working.

she didn't have to give them anything, she didn't even have to make Henry go around with a water jug and give these pricks an ounce of the water they worked hard to collect and sanitize.

but she did it because she knew that truly not all of them were bad, she did it because she cared and well she did it because she wanted a future one where she could have a kid someday.

one that was fair and friendly and safe, not one filled with war and the anger of the Saviours around them because even though that's what some of the others wanted it wasn't what she wanted.

hell it wasn't what she believed in.

she stepped off the wood watching as the last man in line tried to grab two but she pulled his hand away, she grabbed one of the apples and handed it to the small blonde boy next to her.

"why does he need some? he's just a water boy!" Justin remarked pulling the apple out of Henry's hand watching as he remained silent and tried to slip his stick out but y/n pressed a hand out to stop him.

she snatched the apple back and placed it back into his hand, "because he's been working to, he's been scavenging the water for you guys, and he's been harvesting fruit" y/n spoke setting the now empty bowl down onto the wood behind her.

Justin reached out to Henry again only to feel y/n push him away, "why does this bitch decide how much we get for rations? you don't work as hard as us men on the bridge it's bullshit!"

he poked a harsh finger into her chest and she swallowed and looked him in his eyes, she licked over her lips silently and she could feel the slight feeling of him pushing her.

she pushed back but quite not as soft, she could watch him stumble softly and almost fall back on his ass causing a soft chuckle to erupt from one of the men pulling apart an orange.

"she almost knocked you over there bud"

the Saviour remarked taking a piece of the orange and popping it into his mouth she watched as he chewed down on it un-expectant to the fact Justin had thrown a full force swing at her.

she closed her eyes feeling her head slightly be thrown back as the punch was so hard she could feel her eye throbbing, she tried to throw a punch back or maybe even reach for her knife but before she knew it she had been tossed against the pile of wood with a loud thump erupting throughout the bridge.

she could feel another swing of his fist strike at her jaw making her bite down on her inner cheek so hard she could taste the fresh copper flavor of blood pooling a top of her taste buds.

she spat out her blood onto the ground her hand on her knife but Rick had stepped in the middle of it, he had been the one to pull him off of her, and he was the one to help up the dizzy y/n.

it felt like her head had hit the wood from how dizzy she was, the world seemed to be a blur and the sound of the commotion and the yelling of people trying to pull him off was almost a quite messy haze.

she could feel the soft feeling of her being lifted up onto the back of the horse, she could hear the muffled foot steps of the horses hooves clacking against the forest ground.

she hadn't remembered much besides the fight with Justin but she had woken up in a dim and dark tent, an apple and a bottle water by her side as she sat up placing a hand on her head and it seemed like she was having a bad hangover from the raging headache that was pushing through her.

she could hear a soft clatter outside the tent to which she pulled it open and slipped out of the tent to see Enid and Aaron who had been waiting for her to awake, they sat at a table and gave her a soft smile while Enid had yet another bottle of water for her.

"How long was i out for?" y/n asked as she adjusted the belt that was wrapped around her, slipping a hammer that rested on the table into one of the empty slots the belt held.

Aaron tried to pull it away from her but she simply took a step back and folded her arms, "how long was i out?" she repeated her question watching as it was Enid who finally spoke up.

"couple of hours i mean you hit your head y/n, you needed the rest especially after whatever happened on the bridge" Enid spoke watching as she took the bottle from her hands and took a sip before patting Enid on the back with a soft sigh.

"they need my help out there, i'm in charge of them" y/n spoke almost as if she had slowed them down, almost as if it was her fault she had been punched in the face.

"you don't need to work y/n, you need to go sit back down before you end up hurting yourself" and even with Aaron's words she wobbled slightly and reached out to grip the table for help.

"i'm fine" she bitterly lied, she knew she wasn't fine, she shouldn't even up and moving if she had a head wound but this was her job, this was how she was meant to live, its how she was meant to be.

"Rick is watching over the crew so rest we promise everything will go fine we'll make sure of that" Enid spoke watching y/n slam down the hammer back onto the table before slipping into her tent.

she laid against the pillow propped for her and tried to close her eyes but it seemed like she couldn't, it seemed like the world was spinning so fast and she just couldn't make it stop.

Daryl had slipped into the tent watching her sit up shocked at the commotion only to see that it was him, she let out a sigh of relief watching as he licked over his lips, his brows furrowing.

"what happened?" was all he said, he hadn't greeted her or anything unless you count the sudden grasp his hand had on hers.

"nothing just a small tussle" she spoke her eyes tracing down to the crossbow that was rested against the side of the tent, she knew that he wasn't buying her lie but it was worth a shot.

"y/n what happened? Who hit you?" he bit down on his tongue as he spoke looking over at his wife who had a slight guilty conscious on her face because she truly did hate lying to him.

"Daryl i'm fine, it was just a small fight no need to worry" she lied again, there was reason to worry, there was a reason to worry because these were the people they were working with, and she knew there could be a chance of this happening again.

he lifted her chin up forcing her to look at him, and even though she tried to hide away at the black and bruised eye she had it was no use because he was staring directly at it.

"who y/n?, just give me a name please" she took in a deep breath before managing to spill the name of the man who had left her knocked out with a bruised and blood shot eye.

"you think hitting a woman is alright?" Daryl spat at the man who stood against the tree forming a stood forming a cocky smile on his face.

“when she’s a mutt like yours I do, besides that bitch needed some common sense knocked into her anyways” his voice had confidence that he was surely gonna rile up a fight, that's all Justin ever wanted was to knock Daryl and y/n out of his way for good.

y/n froze at the words slipped so bitterly from the mans sour mouth as she watched her husbands hands ball up into a set of rock hard fists to which she had grabbed Aaron’s shoulder whispering for him to go get Rick who was still working on the bridge.

“Say it again I dare ya, call her a bitch again” Daryl spat back taking a step closer and before Justin could even push the sentence out the two men were tussling with each other, or well Daryl was starting to beat the living shit out of the Saviour who was pressed against the ground his hands gripping at the fabric of Daryl's vest.

she watched in a shock as he had used a metal pan to strike over his head causing a loud thump to erupt from the silence of the woods.

"Stop it both of you cut it out!"

she yelled at the boys, her hand resting on her husband's back as the others came out of their tents and stopped their jobs while watching in such disbelief at the two men going at it, one of them had their gun cocked and ready to shoot but y/n forced them to stand down.

she could see his fists covered in blood, Justin's face a bloody mess while Daryl couldn't seem to stop punching him over and over maybe until he was a slush of blood but whatever he had planned she knew she had to stop it somehow she needed to separate them somehow.

"stop! please Daryl stop!" no matter how much she cried and begged and tried to pull each of the men off one another it was no use because now it was a full fight.

a fight that caused such a commotion that some gasped at each strike each man had seemed to strike, they were both equally strong, she could physically see it on their faces.

as Daryl had blood from a cut on his face to the bruises Justin had caused lingering over his eye, but with one strike of the metal pan again Justin had almost given up from the way his head was thrown back.

Daryl had broken one of Justin's eye sockets, his nose, and maybe he had knocked out a few of Justin's teeth by the looks of the blood pooling out from his mouth.

it was quite obvious the men weren't struggling anymore or at least Daryl had the bigger advantage as he continued to punch him like a punching bag over and over until he himself was exhausted, but even then he hadn't stopped when his arm felt limp and his fists started to ache from the pain inflicted on them, it had taken Rick and y/n just to pull him off the man and it took Aaron to help hold Daryl back to make sure he hadn't lunged back at Justin again.

"what the hell are you thinking?!" Rick yelled as a hand on his back guided him into the medical tents where Siddiq had began to try and clean up the work Daryl left on him.

Rick had his gun ready, not that he was actually going to shoot Daryl but it was to get the damn point across so the angry man couldn't beat the Saviour to death even though it's what many of the others believed would be right.

both men sat on opposite sides Daryl could feel the cot shift slightly from the weight of his wife sitting next to him, she watched as Enid used a fresh alcohol wipe to clean over his cuts.

"i was thinking that he should know how to treat women, especially women like y/n" Daryl remarked seeing as Rick had gazed down at the nasty mark Justin imprinted against her eye.

"we have rules, and i want to know why you felt the urge to break them? so tell me what the hell happened on the bridge"

Rick remarked his hand slipping back his pistol into his holster watching Daryl's eyes trace against it, Enid had put a fresh bandage against one of the cuts and patted Daryl on the shoulder before she started to focus on the critical patient.

"he was irritated about the rations and tried to take Henry's so i stood up for myself and Henry and i ended up knocked out with a black eye and the next thing i knew i woke up in my tent"

she folded her arms as she looked down at the floor, she could hear Justin spit and she had watched it drop down by her feet to which she pressed a soft and gentle hand against Daryl's chest to prevent him from causing anymore unnecessary damage,

"Daryl you know you can't do this, you could've killed him and then we'd be short a worker you hear me?" Rick could tell that the man who committed the fair act of breaking the rules hadn't even had an ounce of sorrow or empathy for the man laying on the cot with his face broken and bashed into like he was a punching bag.

"what if he killed her? what if he continued punching her before you got there and he killed her? would you just let me work with him without any type of fair treatment, you wanna talk bout rules then talk bout the ones he broke, she has been nothing but kind to those bastards after they did what they did where's that justice!"

Daryl slammed his hand down out onto the empty metal side tray that made both girls in the tent jump softly, he ran his hand over the stubble of his beard and she could see his torn up knuckles.

she was silent, because she didn't know what to say to him, she knew he was right but she still kept her eyes on the ground and her lips sealed shut as a hand was placed on her thigh.

"you're right Daryl trust me i know but we need to set rules, we can't have this behavior from either of you besides after the bridge is done you can go your separate ways"

Rick concluded watching as Daryl still seemed to be left un-satisfied with his response, he slipped out of the tent leaving them be and leaving the two be in there own awkward silence.

"sorry i didn't say anything just wanted to let you two handle it" y/n murmured to him watching as he forced a soft smile on his face, the muscles of his lips turning upwards just so he could give off the appeal he wasn't still as angry as before.

"if he touches or even looks at you wrong i'll kill him you hear me y/n, if i see it or i hear it i won't hesitate and i mean it"

he whispered to her feeling her shiver softly before she rested her head against his shoulder soaking in his warmth.

"i hear you Daryl"

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