#i can see now how immature and selfish i was

[sceletaflores]

come on and show me a little bit of spine!

pair: logan howlett x mutant!fem!reader

wc: 5.5k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, swearing, drinking, smoking, p in v, rough sex, unprotected sex, public sex (alleyway hehe), biting, blood but not blood play, pain kink, scent kink, a special guest (!!!), jealous logan muahahaha, emotional constipation but like wtf is new, nat probably blatantly ignoring canon, probably ooc logan and friends sorry i'm just a girl, porn w/ plot (a little???), no use of y/n.

author’s note: HAHA BACK ON MY LOGAN BULLSHIT! who’s laughing? not me. i can’t stop writing for him it’s insane and selfish i know i know i’m sorry. bee tee dubs this is part two to all’s fair in love and viscera cus i couldn't get them out of my head so...kisses!

five x-men walk into a bar, only three walk out…

All men are the same. X-gene or no x-gene, they're all immature pigs.

You've come to find that it's more than just skin deep. If you took a knife to every man in this bar, you'd surely find the exact same little metaphorical mass of arrogance ingrained in every single one of them once all the layers are peeled back far enough.

And that's what Logan is, a man.

A stubborn, arrogant, mind-numbingly frustrating man who's convinced he could never be wrong just because he's had a little more time than normal to perfect the art of being completely insufferable.

No adamantium skeleton or foot long claws of death can change that.

You could set him on fire, drown him, watch him regenerate from a single cell, and nothing would change.

So, in hindsight, you really should have seen this coming.

It was Ororo's idea to go out, insisting the team needed it. A casual night at the bar across town to raise bravado after a few close call missions.

It sounded fun at the time, and for the first thirty minutes it was.

Getting to shed your hero skin for a few hours every so often is always nice, and you love your team. Love getting to just sit and live with them. You hardly get nights like this anymore, filled with playing pool and darts like people do.

That being said, you were reaching the top of your limit. Fast.

It started at the bartop, with Logan sauntering up next to you for the first time tonight. 

He slid into the empty seat to your left, leaned against the bar casually, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. His lips tugged into that half-smirk he wore that night in the training room.

“You avoiding me?” he asks, voice low, bent down just enough to speak directly into your ear. "Haven't seen you all night."

You almost scoffed, almost turned to face him so he could see the look of irate disbelief on your face. Almost, but you didn't want to give him the extra attention.

"I could ask you the same thing."

You didn't miss how things had changed between the two of you after your night in the training room. Something shifted, and not in the romantic 'so...what are we now?' territory.

It shifted into Logan disappearing, closing himself off. He didn't go out of his way to avoid you, didn't even go as far as ignoring your existence entirely. He didn't need to, you knew it was different.

He refused to talk about it, refused to even acknowledge it, completely shutting you down the one time you tried bringing it up.

It stung. The feeling of rejection, especially after that night. You felt like you bared a part of your soul to Logan on that dark blue training mat. You swore you saw something different in his eyes too, a subtle shift, something that said this ran deeper than just a messy fuck between friends.

It played on your mind like a loop, every detail. You nitpicked almost every single thing you did, searched your mind for what you could have done that scared him off.

It has to be you, it always is.

It took a week to get over it. A week to wash away the feeling of Logan's hands on your body, of his lips on yours, of his cock carving a space for itself in your cunt, of his blood sliding down your throat and slicking the palms of your hands.

Eventually, that sadness gave way to self-reflection. Self-reflection gave way to anger, and now you're just plain pissed.

This has nothing to do with you.

Logan is a grown man, not a goddamn baby. He should know how to communicate by now, should take the stick out of his ass and drop the whole 'I'm no good for you baby' martyr cross he's carried around for over a century and talk to you.

But if he wants to be alone to sulk in self pity and sorrow for two hundred more years, you'll let him.

Logan's smirk falters, his expression falling with a heavy sigh. He leans back, one boot moving to rest on the rung of your stool. "You really want to do this here?"

"You came up to me," you shrug, finally turning to face him. The warm glow of the bar lights catch the edges of your frustration. "If you’re here to talk, then talk."

Logan doesn't respond, just meets your gaze with a raised brow. His eyes scan over your face slowly, taking in the pinch between your brows and the stern look in your eyes.

"Trouble in paradise?"

Scott's voice pierces through the tense air between you. His tone is casual in a way that's undermined by the smug smile turning the corner of his mouth up. It's too knowing, like he'd been listening in before.

Logan's brows pinch together in irritation the same way they always do when Scott talks, but he holds your gaze. His silence is infuriating because it's the same old routine—he just stares, brooding, like he’s waiting for the problem to magically solve itself without ever opening his damn mouth.

It makes your blood simmer just under the surface, the tips of your fingers burning with it.

You grind your teeth, balling your hands into fists where they sit on the bar. "Scott," you say, not breaking eye contact with Logan, "go play fetch or something."

Scott raises his hands in mock surrender, but you know he won’t leave without a parting shot. “Just looking out for you, you know. Can’t afford you two tearing each other apart over a little lovers spat before the night’s even over.”

As he saunters off, you turn your full attention back to Logan, who’s still studying you with that infuriating intensity. It’s as if he’s trying to decode some secret language written across your face.

You almost want to laugh at how predictable he is, how he thinks he can just sit there, unbothered, while you’re ready to explode.

“Are you really just going to sit there?” you challenge, leaning closer, daring him to respond. “You can’t keep dodging this forever, Logan. You think I’m the only one feeling this? We were both there that night."

His jaw tightens, and for a moment, you think you see the flicker of vulnerability beneath the gruff exterior. But then it’s gone, replaced by that stubborn wall he always puts up.

“I don’t need to talk about it,” he mutters, his voice low, but there’s an edge of desperation that catches your attention. “What’s done is done.”

“‘What’s done is done’?” You can’t help the incredulous laugh that escapes you. “Is that your new catch phrase? They gonna start printing that on the front of your action figure's box?"

Logan's brows furrow deeper, his mouth turning down in a hard frown. "Watch it," he warns tersely, the edge of a snarl on his lips.

You lean forward, desperate to get anything out of him. "Or what?"

The bar buzzes around you, laughter and music blending into a distant hum, but all you can focus on is him—the way his eyes flare with that familiar spark of rebellion, how handsome he looks under the bar's dim lights, the way his smell is starting to warm your insides despite how mad you are.

You raise your brow, waiting, hoping. He stays silent.

That's it.

You stand abruptly, causing your stool to scrape against the floor loudly. Logan straightens, eyes narrowing as he watches you, but you’re more than done with all of this. You've had enough.

"I'm going for some air." you say evenly, slipping your jacket off the back of your chair. "Don't follow me."

You turn and walk away before Logan can answer, heading in the direction of the bar's alley door.

You try your best to ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach, the first tendrils of dread wrapping themselves around you tighter with every step. Your eyes burn embarrassingly each time you blink, but you refuse to cry.

You’re emotionally spiraling a couple feet from the door when someone suddenly steps in front of you, and you crash into them.

“So sorry, ma’am,” A familiar voice says from somewhere in front of you as two strong hands grip your waist to steady you. “Completely my fault, I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

You crane your head up, eyes dragging from the blue gingham button down stretched over impressive muscle until they land on a pair of blue eyes and blonde head of hair you recognize.

“Steve?” 

Steve Rogers smiles down at you, his hands still lightly resting on your waist. His expression is soft, apologetic, and a little surprised. Your name falls from his lips in a warm greeting, his hands lingering for a second longer before he drops them and takes a small step back.

“I’m surprised you still remember me. It’s been a while,” he says with the same boyish charm you remember, like he hadn’t just watched you nearly barge through the door like it owed you money. “How’ve you been?”

You blink up at Steve, the frustration from your situation with Logan still fresh, swirling through your system like a storm.

How’ve you been?

What a loaded question.

“Better,” you answer with a tight smile, barely convincing yourself. “Just tired. We’ve been so busy recently, you know how it is.”

Steve gives you a searching look, his eyes skimming your face with the kind of care that makes you want to shrink into yourself. His brow furrows slightly, concern flickering in those crystal-clear eyes of his as he studies your face. 

"Are you okay?" he asks, genuinely, like he’s already picked up on the fact that something’s off. 

How could you forget, he’s got the emotional radar of a saint. Lucky you.

"Yeah, sure," you lie, adjusting your jacket and pointedly avoiding the obvious upset that’s probably plastered across your face. You force a smile, hoping he buys it. "Just needed some air. This place is packed."

The furrow of Steve’s brows deepen, his lips pressing into a thin line like he doesn’t believe you. You feel worse under the intense pressure of his knowing stare, like a bug trapped under a magnifying glass.

You’re about to say something—anything—to fill the awkward silence, but then you feel it. That heavy, unmistakable presence at your back.

Of course he didn’t listen.

Steve’s eyes flick over your shoulder, and you don’t even have to turn around to know Logan’s right there, brooding like a dark cloud about to burst. You can practically feel the tension rolling off him in waves as one strong arm slides underneath the thick denim of your jacket and around your waist.

“Cap,” Logan’s clipped voice greets from somewhere behind you, laced with barely concealed irritation as his fingers dig into the cotton of your shirt, staking some sort of unspoken claim.

Steve gives Logan a respectful nod, though his expression remains calm, measured, the same quiet authority he always carries. “Logan,” he greets, smile faltering for the second it takes him to drop his eyes to Logan’s arm. “Nice to see you doing well.”

Logan hums noncommittally, you feel the rumble of it against your back. “Didn’t think this was your scene,” he says to Steve, brow cocked in suspicion.

Steve shakes his head, a small laugh falling from his lips. “It’s not, usually. I got strong armed into joining a few friends.”

“Right,” Logan replies, tone flat like Steve would have a reason to lie.

You can almost see the tension thickening in the air, an electric pulse that shoots straight through you. Logan’s grip tightens subtly, an instinctive reaction to Steve’s presence, but you can feel the subtle heat rising, the way your heart races under his touch despite yourself.

It’s infuriating, and for a second, you’re tempted to dive right into it, to unearth the chaos lurking beneath that chiseled exterior. But then you remember where you are, why you walked away from Logan in the first place—how public it is, how many eyes are on you.

“Steve and I worked together, a base infiltration in Albany a few years ago.” You cut in, shooting Logan a look over your shoulder, like a sharp glare alone could get him to calm down, if only for a second. But he just meets your gaze with that familiar stubbornness, eyes dark and unyielding. 

It’s infuriating, and for a moment, you’re tempted to dive right into it, to unearth the chaos lurking beneath that chiseled exterior. But then you remember where you are—how public it is, how many eyes are on you.

“Feels like a lifetime ago,” Steve says, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

And it does. 

You think of Kevlar squeezed around your ribs, of explosions and buildings falling and the smell of gunpowder.

"Yeah, it does," you reply, ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach and forcing a smile.

“God, you look…” His gaze rakes over you like he can’t help it, the bright blue of his eyes trailing from your face down your legs and back up all over again. You can feel Logan bristle next to you. 

”You look amazing,” Steve finishes with a small shake of his head, million dollar smile still pulling up the corners of his mouth. “Buy you a drink?”

“We were just leavin’, Cap,” Logan cuts in tersely, his arm tightening around your waist even more. His grip is possessive, but it’s not affectionate—it’s an unsaid challenge, a warning. “Calling it an early night.”

You whip your head around, confusion evident on your face. "We?" you parrot back, the word hanging in the air like a challenge of its own. “We haven’t decided anything.”

Logan’s jaw tightens, that familiar stubbornness rearing its head again. His hand splays flat over the span of your lower back, pushing just enough for you to feel the power behind it but not enough to really move you. “Let’s go.”

You look at Steve, then Logan, then the crowded bar, then the door to the alley, and repeat. 

It should be an easy answer, an easy way out of going in circles with Logan even more than you already have.

But you find yourself stuck, feet rooted to the floor as your mind races with a hundred different thoughts in the span of a second.

Your lips part, and you’re not even sure what you’re going to say, when Steve beats you to the punch. 

"She can decide for herself," he says evenly, though there's a subtle shift in his tone. It’s calm, but there’s a steely edge to it, like a well-honed blade concealed beneath all the politeness. He’s still smiling, but it’s less soft now, more hardened around the edges.

Logan’s grip on your waist tightens, his fingers digging in like he's daring Steve to push the envelope any further. “Yeah? Don’t think she needs you speakin’ for her, either.”

"Enough," you snap, stepping out of Logan’s hold with a sharp turn, your voice cutting through the growing storm between them. You turn to him with a hard look, brows pinched in anger. "Fine, let's go."

Your smile feels strained, the edges sharp and jagged as you face Steve, the weight of Logan’s presence at your back heavy and suffocating. “It was great seeing you, Steve. Really.”

Your voice sounds strained even to your own ears.

“We’ll have to catch up some other time,” you add, though the words taste bittersweet on your tongue. 

You can tell he wants to say something, his smile completely dropping as his eyes flit between you and Logan a few times. You give him a pleading look, a reassuring nod that you’ve got this. 

Steve hesitates, you can see the gears turning in his mind, weighing the situation and trying to gauge the tension in the air. But ultimately, he nods, offering you one last smile that’s laced with concern.

“Absolutely,” he says, his voice warm despite the tension hanging in the air. “I’d love to. Just let me know when.”

With one last nod to Logan, he turns and walks away to meld into the crowd until you can’t make out the blue of his shirt anymore.

You don’t turn to Logan as you finally walk out the door. The clunk of his boots follow you the whole way out.

As soon as you’re outside, all the anger sets in at once, burning hot in your stomach as you spin around to face him. The fresh air hits your face like a slap, cool and bracing, but it does nothing to quell the fire simmering inside you.

"You really can't leave well enough alone, can you?" You snap, folding your arms defensively. “You just had to go and stake your territory?”

Logan’s face hardens, his eyes dark under the dim streetlight. “What do you expect me to do? Let you walk away and get buttered up Rogers while I sit at the bar with my dick in my hand?”

“Steve wasn’t doing anything!” You exclaim, frustration seeping into your every word. “He was just being nice, we’re friends.”

Logan lets out a disbelieving snort, shaking his head hard enough that his hair sways with it. “Nothin’ about that was friendly, kid. You’d have to be fuckin’ blind to not see that.”

You huff, turning your eyes to the sky in exasperation. “Why do you care?” you fire back, heart racing at the challenge. “We’re not together! You’ve made that more than clear!”

Now that the seal is broken, it’s like you can’t stop. Words fall out of your mouth faster than your mind can keep up, all the pent up frustration you’ve felt over the past few weeks boiling over.

“You’re the one that’s acting like nothing happened!” You throw your hands up in exasperation, your voice rising with every word. “You’re the one who disappeared, who’s been avoiding this whole thing like it didn’t mean anything!”

He growls, stepping closer, his presence looming. "You think I don’t know that, kid? You think I haven’t been dealing with this shit—with us?"

"Well, you sure as hell don’t act like it! You don’t talk about it. You don’t even try! You just stand there and expect me to what? Read your mind?”

For a split second, Logan’s expression falters, his shoulders stiffening as if your words struck a nerve. But just as quickly, the mask falls back into place. "I’m no good for you, kid. And you know it. I’m doing you a favor."

"There it is again!" You bark out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. "The martyr complex. You’ve been alive for over a century, Logan. You’ve got time on your side, and you still can’t figure out how to be a decent human being in a relationship?”

He flinches slightly, but his eyes remain locked on yours, anger and frustration swirling behind them. "It’s not that simple."

“Of course it is!" You step forward, closing the gap between you. "You just don’t want to do the hard work. You don’t want to open up, to be vulnerable, because then you’d actually have to face yourself. And God forbid Wolverine confronts something he can’t claw his way out of.”

Logan’s jaw clenches, his eyes blazing, and for a long beat, the two of you stand in a tense, electrified silence. The world around you seems to fall away—no bar, no missions, no X-Men—just the two of you, standing in the alley, raw and exposed.

You don’t know who moves first, you or Logan, before you can register it, the distance between you disappears, swallowed by the pull of all that unresolved tension.

His lips claim yours, fierce and urgent, as if this was the only language he’s fluent in—raw emotion, violent passion. His hands find your waist again, gripping tight, pulling you flush against him.

The kiss is messy, desperate, a collision of teeth and tongues, but it’s exactly what you expected. It’s how you and Logan have always been—no finesse, just fire and stubborn intensity. It’s the only way he knows how to communicate, the only way he can let go, even for a second.

Your hands slide up into his hair, yanking roughly as a guttural growl vibrates from his chest into your mouth. You feel the heat of his skin, the coiled tension in his muscles, and it ignites something wild inside you.

The anger hasn’t left—it’s just morphed into something darker, something hungrier.

The kiss is nothing like the ones from that night in the training room. This one is full of anger and frustration, all the emotions that have been simmering between you two finally bubbling over in an explosive release. His lips are hard, demanding, and the taste of whiskey lingers faintly on his breath, mixing with the metallic scent of the alley.

You push back just as fiercely, your hands tangled in his hair as you try to pour all of your hurt, your confusion, and your pent-up rage into that single kiss. For a moment, it’s all- consuming—hot, reckless, like trying to catch fire in your hands.

“You’re such a fuckin’ punk,” he grates against your lips, kneading the meat of your hips roughly like he’s trying to anchor himself to you. His teeth scrape your bottom lip, his growl vibrating through you like a warning shot, but it only spurs you on.

"You’re one to talk,” you bite back, the heat between you both as volatile as ever.

You drop your hands to his chest, gripping the leather of his jacket in your fists and yanking him closer until there's no space left, until it's hard to tell where the anger ends and the need begins.

Logan growls, the sound reverberating deep in his chest, as his hands move up your back, possessive and rough. “You keep pushin' me, kid. You really wanna see how far I’ll go?"

"Maybe I do," you shoot back, biting down lightly on his lower lip. You taste the blood—his blood—and something primal stirs in you. His healing factor kicks in almost instantly, but the heat between you spikes with the sharp tang of it. It always does.

Logan hisses sharply, tongue swiping over the blood still dotted along his lip before he’s pushing you backwards.

You have no choice but to move with him, blindly stumbling back a few steps until your shoulders hit the wall of the bar. His lips attached to your neck the whole way, teeth nipping at the rapid flutter of your pulse.

It’s like a wildfire spreading between you, all heat and destruction, and the alley around you seems to fade into the background, leaving nothing but the chaotic mess of you and Logan.

You consider the risks of fucking Logan in an alleyway for all of two seconds, every single warning bell in your mind going silent when his hands tighten their hold on your hips to spin your around, pushing you up against the brick roughly.

“Fine,” he concedes, yanking the fabric of your skirt up hard enough you hear a tiny rip. “I’ll give you what you want, princess.”

The sound of his zipper being tugged down might as well be a gunshot with how loudly it reverberates through your mind. Your thighs slide together slickly, aching cunt clenching in anticipation.

The soft sound of Logan pushing his jeans down is the only warning you get before the thick head of his cock is sliding over the wetness staining the fabric of your panties.

“This what you wanted?” he asks, hooking his fingers into the lace to tug it aside and slip the length of himself through your slick folds. “You need a cock in your hungry pussy to feel better?” He lines himself up with your fluttering entrance, pushing gently until the very tip slips in.

Your lips fall open, brow furrowing as he starts feeding you his length one infuriating inch at a time.

Anger still warms your gut, but you find yourself nodding wordlessly. Tiny, desperate sounds escaping your throat the deeper he sinks in.

The stretch of him is almost too much, like he’s splitting you in two. It’s the kind of sting that just barely toes the line of pain and pleasure in the best way. It has you crying out when he finally bottoms out, pressing your forehead against the brick to try and ground yourself.

Logan’s considerate enough to keep still, thumbs rubbing soothing circles over the skin of your hips as you adjust.

“God,” you groan, shifting your hips enough to feel the way his cock rubs along your walls. The burn starts to melt away into pure pleasure with every grind.

“That’s it, baby,” Logan goads, hands still planted on your hips as you start to bounce on his cock in earnest. “Write your name on this cock, tell everyone who it belongs to.”

His words just spur you on, a high whine falling from your lips as you set a steady rhythm. The slap of skin on skin getting louder, echoing around you lewdly. 

“Mm, feels good huh?” he hums, pressing a sweet kiss to your shoulder.

You barely choke out a garbled ‘yes’, thighs starting to shake with the effort of thrusting yourself back. 

“Sorry,” he says, gripping the meat of your hips to pull you back against his cock roughly. “What was that?”

“Yes!” you mewl, cheeks burning. The anger steadily drains from your body the closer you get to come, until it's an afterthought just present enough in your mind to still matter. “Feels so good, please Logan…”

Logan groans under his breath, pulling his hips back back back until he’s reaming forward. He thrusts once, twice, three times before he’s taking over. Big hands anchored to your hips to drag you back on every snap of his hips. 

Your entire body lights up, the pathetic noises passing through slack your lips barely register over the white noise rushing through your ears. Logan’s fucking you like he wants to break you, heavy hips pounding into the meat of your ass like an animal. The slap of it stinging your skin only for him to pull out and leave you empty before filling you again.

You go pliant in his grip, a high moan escaping you as he expertly hits that spongy spot inside of you that has heat pooling in your gut.

“God, I missed this,” he admits into your hair, one hand sliding around to press against your lower stomach. Logan’s hand is massive and blisteringly hot over your skin, cupping and feeling where he punches up into you with every thrust from the outside.

“Fuck, baby,” he growls, pressing his forehead to your back desperately. “Do you feel that? Feel how deep I am inside of you? Gonna fuckin’ fill you up, stuff you so full you’ll be leaking for weeks.”

“Logan,” you gasp, heat coiling in your belly. 

“I know,” he breathes, hips speeding up impossibly faster. “I got you, honey.”

You turn your head, the skin of your cheek scraping over the rough bring with every hard snap of his hips. The thick muscle of his forearm fills your eye line, strong and tan where it cages you to the bar. You swear you can see the blood pumping through his veins. Your stomach jerks with need, your mind buzzing.

Without thinking, you lean forward and bury your teeth in the muscle there. The coppery tang of blood on your tongue sends you reeling, a deep groan rumbling through your chest.

“Fuck!” Logan exclaims, giving one last thrust before he’s burying himself as far as he can. His cock throbs, pulsing as he unloads inside you. Rope after rope of come paints the shaking walls of your cunt, slicking the thrust of his that much more.

Pleasure goes off in sparks all up your spine, lighting up every vertebrae until the fireworks go off in your brain. Your hands claw at the wall desperately, eyes screwing shut as you fly over the edge.

Your mouth falls open in a silent scream as you come, hands digging into the brick hard enough that it cracks and crumbles beneath them, falling to your feet in little rock’s.

Everything around you fizzles out into nothing, just a dull hum cocooning you in this moment, and for just a second it’s like you're floating. 

The heave of Logan’s chest against your back and his lips on your neck only add to that far away feeling, nice enough that has you leaning into the warmth of his body. 

A car horn blaring somewhere in the distance jerks you out of any warm, fuzzy feelings and deposits you back in the real world. Your eyes refocus on the building in front of you, and a displeased groan rips from your chest.

“I made a mess,” you murmur quietly, looking at the two matching dents in the bar's wall and the same red powder staining your hands.

Logan huffs into the sweaty skin of your neck, an amused noise. “That’s alright,” he says, barely out of breath. He pulls out just enough to let his come start leaking out around his dick, sliding down the length of him in thick rivers of white. “So I did.”

You scoff, shaking your head in disgust as he steps away with a snort. Your voice is breathy and small when you speak, “You’re disgusting.”

It's quiet for a long time, both you and Logan dressing yourselves in silence. The thrum of traffic around you mixed with the muffled music bleeding through the wall is the only noise filling the space.

You drag your eyes to him, watching as he yanks up his jean’s zipper while you smooth your skirt down.

“I told you not to follow me. When we were back inside,” you say, voice steadier than before but just as breathless.

Logan meets your eyes, and there’s a pause. For a second, you think maybe he’ll turn around and leave, run away to try and forget this too. Instead, you hear his boots scrape against the gravel as he steps closer.

"I don't take orders well, remember?" His voice is gravelly, like he’s chewing on the words before spitting them out.

"Obviously," you huff under your breath, a humorless laugh shaking your shoulders slightly.

Logan’s lips quirk into a tiny, almost imperceptible smile, but it fades just as quickly.

He takes another step closer, close enough now that you can feel the warmth radiating off him again, his presence as heavy as ever. But this time, there’s something different.

He looks drained. Not physically, but emotionally. Worn down in a way you’ve never seen.

“I’m not good at this,” he admits quietly, his voice tired. “You know that.”

You raise an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. He hesitates, rubbing the back of his neck in that rare, almost vulnerable way he does when he’s out of his element. Finally, he meets your gaze.

“I’m…" he trails off, mouth pulling into a wince like it physically pains him to apologize. "I’m sorry…”

“Wow,” you say slowly, head tilting to the side as you study him. “That was the worst apology I’ve ever gotten.”

Logan narrows his eyes at you, a mix of irritation and reluctant amusement flickering across his face. “You gonna let me talk?” he asks curtly, but there’s no real bite to it.

You sigh, nodding your head for him to continue.

He shifts his weight, a heavy sigh falling from his lips. “I know I’ve been a stubborn ass. I’m used to keeping everyone at arm’s length. It’s safer that way. I’ve lost too many people to just let someone in without a fight.”

His voice drops, laced with a vulnerability you rarely see. “I thought if I just stayed away, it would make things easier for you. I’m not relationship material, kid. I can’t be that guy for you. I don’t want you to get hurt.” 

He shakes his head, his shoulders slumping in more as he talks. “I’m a damn mess, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. I do. A lot. It just scares the hell out of me.”

For a moment, you’re unsure how to respond. Part of you wants to lash out more, to keep the anger burning because it feels safer than the vulnerability you’re feeling now.

On the other hand, for the first time tonight, you see the man behind the adamantium, behind the claws and the gruff exterior. The man behind the Wolverine.

You only see Logan, who’s lived through centuries of loss and pain, who’s learned to build walls so thick even he can’t break through them sometimes.

And damn it, you hate how much you still care. You hate that, even after everything, Logan is the one person who can make you feel like this—angry, frustrated, and vulnerable all at once. But you can’t deny the truth any longer.

Because underneath all the anger and hurt, there’s still that spark. That stupid, stubborn spark that refuses to go out.

You take a step closer, your hand gently reaching for his. “You don’t have to be anything, Logan. You just have to try. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

He nods, a slow, deliberate movement. Taking a slow set closer to you, he takes your cheek in his hand. The bright red rawness of your skin is slowly draining, tiny cuts knitting themselves together. “I can do that.”

He slides his thumb across your cheekbone and somehow, you believe him.

It’s not perfect. It’s not a promise that everything’s going to magically be okay. But it’s a start.

Maybe that’s enough.

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[hella1975]

i cannot stand the aot fandom this is not a new take at all they are universally intolerable but oh my dayssss u are FORBIDDEN from making ANY take about the show it's actually insane to watch. 'aot is perfect' no show is perfect. 'tell me you didnt get the show 😂🫵' people have different opinions/interpretations about things. 'eren is a good guy they could never make me hate him' i think there's actually 4 seasons and two movies explicitely using him as a tool to show that no one is 'good' or 'evil' they are only trying to survive. hello. the fandom r all so far up aot's ass that they actually discredit its writing in the process and it would be laughable if it wasn't so frustrating

[hecksupremechips]

Constantly torn between writing a character to be just a nice guy and writing that character to be the most fucked up creature in existence

[angeltism]

not 2 keep posting literally Only Vents (and like 1 normal thing once a day) but it's nights like these I reminisce about my abuser and wonder all that "what if"s

all the sui tw/cw tags r because of shit I wrote in the tags

[azriels-shadowsinger]

“All you do is push me away. I'm done. Whatever this is, it's done.”

Azriel x Reader

wc: 2.3k

a/n: responding to this request. sorry this took forever, i started my new job this week! also, thank you for 400 followers!!

prompt list

“It will be fine, y/n!” Feyre reassures, rubbing a gentle hand down your back. You bite your lip anxiously.

“I don't know, Fey. It's already awkward enough trying to introduce my boyfriend to the high lord and lady, the general, and scariest of all, Amren.” You chuckle. “But seriously, I’m even more worried about Azriel. He’s been so weird and distant since we ended our... situationship?” You sigh heavily. “Whatever it was, he got all weird when it ended. I’m worried he’s gonna make tonight weird.” You whine.

“Rhys already talked to him. Azriel promised to be welcoming.” Feyre reassures

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” You grumble. Truthfully, you knew very little about your new boyfriend, Wesley, and you had no idea how he would behave around your friends, but when Cassian caught you on a second date and blabbed about your new boyfriend to everyone, you had no choice but to introduce him to the group. Hopefully, Feyre was right that everything would be fine.

———

Everyone at the table was visibly uncomfortable, thanks to Azriel. He had spent the first half of dinner in a very tense silence, ignoring everyone’s attempts to interact with him. He only responded with mocking laughs under his breath at every other thing Wesley said. Rhys had tried to speak to Azriel in his mind, Feyre told you, but his walls were up and he refused to drop them.

You thought it couldn’t possibly get any worse, but once the final course came out, Azriel switched from chilling silence to obnoxiously challenging everything you or Wesley said. You were going to kill him.

“So what do you do for fun, Wesley?” Feyre asks, attempting to alleviate tension.

“Uh, I like studying history.” He answers quietly. Azriel chokes down a laugh, and you internally groan at the most boring answer he could’ve chosen.

“Hm, that's weird y/n. I thought your usual type was...” Azriel eyes Wesley with distaste “much different.” You scowl at Azriel.

“I don’t have a type, Azriel.” You say defensively. “And if I did, it would be Wesley.”

“Sure it would.” He says smugly. “I seem to recall you have a preference for tougher guys, specifically Illyrians-“

“That is enough, Az.” Rhys commands, cutting Azriel off and using his high lord voice. Everyone sits quietly, not sure what to say next.

“I think I should leave.” Wesley says uncomfortably, breaking the silence and moving to stand. “Goodnight everyone, it was wonderful to meet you all.” He says with a forced smile before heading towards the door. You hurry after him, heels clicking loudly on the floor.

“Wes, please stay! There’s dessert, and I promise it won't be as awkward. I’ll make him leave.” You beg once you two are out of earshot.

“Don’t bother. You didn’t tell me you used to date him. That would’ve been great information to have going into tonight.”

“We never-“ he cuts you off.

“Save it. I have no interest in competing with the fucking spymaster. You are not worth the effort.” You visibly flinch at the harsh words and tears begin to form in your eyes, as he turns away. “I’ll see you around.” He mutters and leaves.

———

When you return to the dining room, Azriel is sitting there with a victorious smirk on his face, eating his dessert. One look at the rage in your eyes, and everyone else had the bright idea to leave you two alone.

“Are you happy now?” You holler.

“Kinda, yeah.” He says smugly. You let out a frustrated groan.

“You spiteful, ignorant, selfish male!” He laughs slightly at your outburst.

“What’s wrong sweetheart? Could Wesley not take a little joke?” He grins.

“He broke up with me because of your gods damn immaturity!”

“Good. You can do better, he doesn’t deserve you.” Azriel replies nonchalantly.

“What the hell is your problem? Is this because I ended things between us?” That causes him to freeze, dropping any amusement from his face.

“No.”

“It is, isnt it? Well guess who’s fault that was! You don’t date, you told me so yourself. And any time I tried to get closer to you, you put up walls and shut me out.“ you let out an exasperated sigh. “Even now, all you do is push me away. So you know what Azriel? I'm done. Whatever this is, it's done.”

“There’s nothing to end, we aren’t dating. We aren't even fucking anymore.” He spits coldly, but you see the hurt lacing his features, matching your own.

“Yeah, I got that. Loud and clear.” You murmur. “Stay the hell away from me from now on.” You growl before exiting the room, leaving Azriel alone.

———

You had not so much as looked at him in three weeks, and it was driving Azriel crazy. He had assumed that with your now ex-boyfriend out of the way, you would eventually turn to him to resume your previous friends-with-benefits situation. He couldn’t help but miss your company.

Azriel, Cassian, and Rhys sat around the table at Rita’s drinking whiskey. As soon as Azriel began complaining about you again, Cassian rolled his eyes, finished his glass of whiskey, and stood up.

“I’m tired of hearing about this every damn day. I’m getting another drink.” He grumbles.

Azriel wasn’t sure why he was bothered so damn much that you were avoiding him. Sure, he had plenty of females offering him pleasure every time he went out in Velaris, there were two eyeing him from across the bar right now, but he didn’t want them.

“Honestly, what I miss most about her isn’t even the sex.” Azriel admits, slurring his words slightly as the alcohol takes effect in his system. Rhysand’s ears perk up at this admission. Previously, Azriel had only ever admitted to missing the consistent sex or complained that you were overreacting, but this was new. Rhys wondered if Azriel even realized what he was saying.

“What do you mean, brother?” Rhys probes.

“I miss the nights we spent talking. And how somehow she managed to know exactly what I needed, without me having to say it.” Azriel downs the rest of his drink. “I just want things to go back to the way they were. Like when she would fall asleep next to me and I would actually be able to quiet my mind enough for once to fall asleep too. Or when she smiled and I felt all warm inside. I don’t even know why I shut her out when she asked about becoming more. Maybe because it scares me.” Azriel prattles on, talking to himself more than Rhys.

“You love her, you idiot.” Rhys states, which immediately pulls Azriel’s focus.

“That’s not… don’t do that Rhys. Don’t put shit into my head.” Azriel says defensively. Cassian returns with another round of whiskey for everyone.

“What did Rhys do?” Cassian asks casually as he passes a glass to each of his brothers.

“I informed Az that he’s in love with y/n.” Rhys smirks and sips his whiskey.

“I’m not-“ Cassian cuts Azriel off.

“You totally are!” Cassian laughs. Azriel huffs out a breath and downs his whiskey in one big swallow. There was no use arguing with his brothers once their minds were made up.

“I gotta go.” Azriel mumbles and storms out the door. Rhys and Cass just exchange knowing glances.

———

You hear someone banging on your door late that evening. You want to say you’re surprised to see Azriel when you open the door, but no one else would bother you this time of night. You just look at him expectantly, waiting to hear what he has to say.

“I was wrong before. I should've never pushed you away when you said you wanted more. I was just scared of how I felt and scared of getting hurt by you. I’m sorry for being a dick and I’m sorry for ruining that dinner with your ex-boyfriend, I just couldn’t stand to see you with someone else. Please, give me another shot.” Azriel has such a hopeful look in his eyes, waiting for your answer.

“I told you I was done.” You say, trying your hardest to stay calm and collected.

“But I-“ he takes a deep breath. “But I love you. Please, give me a chance to make things right.” You pause, mind reeling at the admission. As much as you want to admit the same thing, you can’t afford to get hurt by him again, so you do your best to calm your racing heart and force the words out.

“It’s too late, Azriel. I’m sorry.” You shut the door quickly before you can give in, immediately letting your tears fall once it's closed.

———

More weeks passed, and you eventually decided that you had to stop wallowing in self-pity and try to move on again. Wesley might have not been the one for you, but surely someone out there is.

You had decided to go out to Rita’s with Mor and eventually found a decently nice male to talk to. You two chatted for a while, and as the end of the night drew closer, you decided to shoot your shot.

“So, I don’t really do this, but do you wanna come home with me?” You ask the male nervously.” The lights of the bar turn on, indicating that it’s closing time.

“Yeah I-“ he pauses, looking you over. His eyes go wide and he backs away. “No. I can’t go home with you. I should’ve never talked to you.” He hurries off quickly, almost seeming frightened.

You turn towards Mor with a confused look, trying to ignore the hurt you feel from the harsh rejection. Did you really look that different with the lights on, you wonder.

The next day, you were in your room telling Feyre about the night before, trying to understand what went wrong.

“I don’t get it, Fey. We were having such a nice conversation. I was sure that he would agree to come home with me. But as soon as the lights came on and he saw me, he ran off. I didn’t think I looked that bad in the light.” You complain, flopping back onto your bed. Feyre choked on her drink for a moment, seeming startled.

“He didn’t…” she mutters to herself, shaking her head.

“What?” You sit up, confused. Feyre gets a far-off expression, likely speaking to Rhys in her mind about something. “What is it Feyre?” You ask curiously. She groans.

“The other day I overheard Az and Rhys talking, and Azriel made a joke about how he could just threaten all the males in Velaris that they can’t go anywhere near you. I assumed he was kidding, but I just asked Rhys about it, and apparently he wasn’t.” Feyre explains awkwardly.

“Are you kidding me?” You yell as you shoot up off the bed and storm out your door, muttering some apology to Feyre about having to leave.

———

You put a city-wide ban on dating me?” You scream angrily as you storm into Azriel’s room, not bothering to knock.

“Yeah, I did.” Azriel smirks at you.

“What the fuck Azriel? You don't have some claim over me! Call it off.” You shout.

“No.” His firm, unyielding voice gives you goosebumps.

“Stop it with the territorial male bullshit. It won’t change anything, so call it off!” You try to keep up the anger in your voice, but as Azriel stalks closer, you lose your boldness.

“I’m not calling it off.” His voice is dangerously low.

“Why not?” You mutter. Azriel leans closer.

“Because eventually you will realize that you still want to be with me, and when you do I don’t want anyone getting in the way of that.” He whispers, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, causing you to shiver slightly.

“I told you before. I’m done.” You try to sound confident, but it doesn’t come out quite right.

“Sure you are. Whenever you decide you wanna change that answer, I’ll be here.” He says with a wink. As you leave you feel conflicted. This may be the most territorial male bullshit you have ever witnessed, but you can’t help but smile slightly, realizing that Azriel basically just publicly announced his feelings toward you.

———

You lasted two days without returning to visit Azriel. You had told yourself it was to yell at him some more, but deep down you knew it wasn’t. Azriel opens his door after hearing you knock and looks genuinely surprised to see you.

“You win. You managed to scare off any decent male in Velaris. So congrats, I’m all yours.” You concede reluctantly.

“It was never about winning, sweetheart.” He shuts the door behind you, caging you between him and the door. You look up at him earnestly.

“Then what was it about?” You ask.

“It’s about getting a second chance to prove to you that I was an idiot. It’s about the fact that I will spend every single day for the rest of my existence trying to prove to you that I love you, and praying to the Mother that you decide to let me show you.” He whispers, leaning closer. You look up at him, seeing that hopeful look in his eyes again.

“Just one more chance?” Your voice comes out so soft he almost doesn’t hear you.

“One more chance, I promise that’s all I’ll need. I don’t plan on ever doing anything to mess it up again.” He answers sincerely.

“Okay then.” He doesn’t get a moment to process that you agreed before you pull his face towards yours, closing the gap between your lips. He immediately pulls your body into his and runs his hands through your hair.

“Thank the gods.” He murmurs into the kiss. You pull away for a moment.

“By the way, I love you too, Az.”

yes that last little bit about the dating ban was inspired by the deal by elle kennedy, but i just thought that was so funny and i believe without a doubt that Az could threaten all of Velaris to stay away from you

prompt list

taglist: @fxckmiup

[daisys-reality]

─── 🍏ꜞ˖ ꒰ short messages from your DR s/o's higher self ꒱

⌇reality shifting themed tarot reading | general disclaimer | masterlist

pile one

Oh temptation, sweet temptation. Darling, you're gorgeous, inside out. How can someone be so perfect? I really wanna be gentle with you and treat you with the utmost care that you deserve. Not because you’re weak. chuckle No, because you’re so so precious to me. But damnit, my feelings and the attraction I feel are so intense. I feel like I'm going insane. I need you in my life. I would do anything for you. For hell’s sake, I would travel the universe for you too. Please don’t ever doubt me. I am trustworthy, I promise. You’re the only one who has my attention. I will protect and provide for you. And whoever dares to hurt you, will get to experience hell.

Don’t worry about your past or your circumstances, they don’t matter. Just believe, in yourself, in me or us or the universe. Focus on yourself for now, take time to recover from whatever you’re going through and release any resistance. I know it’s hard but it’s not too late. We will reunite soon! You don’t need to worry, okay? Everything will be fine.

pile two

My love, if you feel like you have too much that is depending on you, you might have to rethink following this path. It seems like your heart is willing to relax at this time, but this is not what your mind wants. You’re restless and exhausted… You know that your health is what is most important, right? I don’t wanna see you burnt out, okay? Learn to back out, when it’s needed. Continuing to fight for something that is not worthy of your life might end up being just a waste of time. You’re like a gift to me, okay? Obviously I am restless too and eager to finally be in your presence but your wellbeing is more important than any of my immature desires. I can wait for you. My love for you won’t waver. I will always love you, more than you know. Please give yourself the time you need. I will always be there for you. If you’re in the mood please tell me anything, you can even address letters to me. I would be glad if I could lessen your burdens at least for a little bit. You can talk about all your worries, your dreams etc. I will listen. So, let’s go through this together, okay? 

I want you to know that I’m truly proud of you, and I am confident that you will succeed.

pile three

I know you are my equal, my counterpart. There is no one like you. My heart and mind are committed to you. I know we’d make a strong pair. With you around I finally feel at peace, you make me whole again, you give strength to keep going. I want to be your strength too. I want to deepen our bond. I don’t wanna lose you. Ever. I am selfish and immature. I know that but what can I do? You're my other half, my world… I need you. Everyone else is not worthy enough for you. How could I sit still? I’m jealous just imagining you with someone else. Is it wrong to imagine our future together, a happily-ever-after? I promise I will work hard to make you as happy as you make me. Please give me/us a chance.

[lemotmo]

Some of them clearly got the point of Tim's call-out.

Q. What did you make of Tim's interview? I realize the bulk was Lonestar but the fandom stuff was interestingly phrased. The fact that so many people involved with the show, and now the showrunner himself, are openly discussing how bad things are cannot be a good sign. I know we had some fans who were saying we could 'bully' Tim and the show into giving us more Tommy but I think that was a massive mistake in hindsight. I think certain people got carried away and went way too far. Weather their intentions were ever bad or not I just think some people took the bullying idea too far. I'm a little worried we may not see Tommy at all now.

A. The bullying idea was always going to be a massive mistake. Normally you can take Tim's interviews with a bit of 'lol, why is he so dramatic' because he's not immune to getting his feelings hurt, and using his interviews to tell people that. In this case though it was definitely a direct callout. I have been here from the beginning and the show has never experienced anything close to what they have experienced this off-season. It's one thing to root for a particular show ship it's another thing entirely to openly send, and openly encourage others, to send hate to the cast and creators of a show. Then those same fans dragged the lighting director, director of photography, show directors and professional media members who have covered the show for years into their bullying game as well. It was insane, pathetically immature behavior. At times it was also incredibly disturbing. And every single bit of it can be traced back to the cameo videos. The second the storyline they were paying to be told didn't match the storyline we were actually watching they revolted.

And unfortunately because I think Tim, and ABC, just didn't think they were anything worth paying attention to initially, he was allowed to do them way too long. The more he did the more obsessed with him that particular group of people became. This has nothing to do with 911. Those people aren't at all interested in 911. Their entire interest is Lou and Lou alone. It's a small group of people. A small sick group of people who created a bunch of separate accounts in order to appear to be more people than they actually are (and they were stupid enough to openly admit that is what they did). Then that small group of people got together and from every single one of their many accounts they attacked as a group. They started with Oliver. They pointed out that Oliver wasn't interacting with Lou or engaging with any of them, or B/T content, and decided, at least initially, that he was solely to blame for B/T not getting the attention they thought it deserved, again the Buck part they don't care about. They were upset that they weren't seeing more of Tommy and they blamed Oliver for that. Suddenly Oliver was being tagged in posts that were calling him unprofessional, immature, bratty, selfish, and because of course, homophobic (they're really not a bright group of people). However instead of taking their bait and engaging with them, Oliver, rightly, blocked them. Meaning they needed a new target. Briefly it became Tim because their moronic leader screenshot a message she sent him that he, stupidly, responded to. She took that and spun and ENTIRE relationship theory and spread it through her many accounts. Tim then admitted in another comment that he actually didn't know what she was talking about but didn't want to be rude by continuing to ignore her so he responded to her. He then said that was a mistake and he wouldn't be responding to anything else. And he hasn't (she should be very embarrassed by his interview today because he may as well have used her name). And the show also continued to not align with her/their theory and they got more upset. Then found a new target.

Throughout the season Oliver did what Oliver has always done. Oliver posted, liked and promoted Eddie/Buddie/Buckley Diaz family content. He has always done this. This was nothing new. But it infuriated Lou's fans and they turned their anger on Ryan. Suddenly Eddie was the worst character in the history of television. He was an abuser (to Buck especially), he was a user (of Buck especially). He was a terrible friend (to Buck especially). Depending on the day he was either a deadbeat dad or obsessed with his kid in an unhealthy way (they couldn't ever really decide which way to go on this one. That opinion was dependent on how the poster felt about Chris). When that attack didn't really get the attention they were begging for, they changed direction and made it personal. Post after post, that Ryan was always tagged in, calling him racist, a deadbeat dad, an asshole, unprofessional, manipulative and controlling of Oliver (wtf, god they really are a stupid group of people), a whore (I actually read that one myself, it was a trip), a terrible actor that only has a job because Tim thinks he's hot. And so on and so on. At first Tommy didn't kiss Eddie because Ryan is homophobic and refused to do the storyline, then Tim, very publicly, corrected that lie so Lou's fans had to pivot and said Lou actually refused to do the Eddie storyline because he knows Ryan isn't a good guy ( a special kind of crazy that makes me need to drink ). Then they sunk to their sickest, lowest, most pathetic, vile, disturbing, and inexcusable moment. Ryan did a podcast where he discussed his past mental health struggles and suicidal thoughts. They went into the comments on the podcast and told Ryan that they wish he had committed suicide. That if he had killed himself then Tommy could have his screen time and they wouldn't have to see Buck have scenes with Eddie. Not only did they leave those comments (the podcast has since deleted most of them, thankfully), they sent similar messages directly to Ryan on Instagram. Knowing he would see them. It was appalling and very, very disturbing. The cameo videos ended fairly shortly after. These people are sick. They get zero sympathy or understanding from me. It's a fucking television show. Tommy is not a real person. Ryan is a real person.

As for maybe not seeing Tommy at all, I would imagine conversations have certainly taken place. He was never sticking around permanently. The conversations most likely involved deciding if they needed him at all, and if they did, how many actual scenes did they need him for. I don't work on the show, but if they decided he wasn't necessary to the storyline, and they could get away with his stuff happening off screen I would imagine he's been dismissed. They probably decided they needed him at least for a few scenes though. Unless other things happened behind the scenes we're not aware of he will be around the first few episodes at least and then and probably no more. He can take his tiny army with him when he leaves. No one will miss them.

Okay, just ... yeah, all of this. It's crazy how these people did all of these horrible things in the name of... a ship? I mean, what?

I've been in fandom for a very long time and I have been shipping characters for a very long time, but I've never seen behaviour like this. Behaviour where people think they are justified to bully, harass and vilify the actors playing a character on a TV-show. To the point where they get blocked by the actors and crew.

I don't understand what would drive someone to do that? I genuinly don't.

These are the kind of people that need to put down their phones forever, go outside and touch all the grass they can touch. After that they should never watch 911 again. If you don't like something, just walk away. I have done that before. Shows don't always go where a fan wants it to go.

Look. I want Buddie. You all know that. I'm 99% certain that we're getting Buddie in season 8. But, if it turns out we won't, which is always a possibility since I don't know what Tim is cooking up, I will be disappointed, but I won't start spewing hatred all over the place. I will just take a step back and focus on other things in life. I'll keep shipping Buddie and read fanfiction. I'll be fine here in my Buddie corner of the Internet with my Buddie mutuals.

So yeah, this is insane behaviour to me. I truly don't get it.

Thanks Nonny for dropping this in my inbox!

Heads up! For anyone who is giving me the shifty eyes for reposting these anon OP updates instead of reblogging. Don't get mad at me. There is a reason for it and it's all done with consent from the OP. You can find out more about that here.

Remember, no hate in comments or reblogs. Let's keep it civil and respectful. Thank you.

If you are interested in more of the anonymous OP’s posts, you can find all of their posts so far under the tag: anonymous blog I love.

[persephryne]

Making Aegon a rapist was straight up bad and lazy writing.

Let me elaborate.

In the show, the first thing we learn about Aegon as an adult is that he is a rapist. We haven’t seen him yet but still we already know that he is an horrible despicable rapist, especially since Dyana is so young, which pretty much makes him a pedophile too. How could anyone root for a man like that ? And that’s where the problem begins.

Rhaenyra had already been established many times as the rightful heir to the throne in season 1. It has been made obvious that she would make a decent Queen too. In the meantime, it had already been shown that Aegon is not even a good person. He’s selfish, inconsiderate, a bully, and does not act like a prince at all. To put it plainly, he sucks big time and we as viewers already know it. Add what we saw in season 2, how reckless he gets, how he’s an alcoholic immature asshole, how he obviously knows nothing about strategics nor how to rule efficiently, or even how bad he is at high valyrian, and you can’t have anyone tell you in good faith that he would’ve been a better ruler than Rhaenyra.

However, had Aegon not been made a rapist, you would still feel for him even though he is not cut out to rule. Because he knows it too and tried to escape it and he was forced to attend his own coronation . Because this crown that he did not want does not fit him, even though he really tries to show that he is not as worthless as everyone seems to think and he just keeps failing. You would feel for him because the war ,that he has started when he was made an usurper by the people around him, has cost him his son’s life. Because the brother, who is partially responsible for his son’s death has now betrayed him and tried to kill him with dragonfire. Because the injuries he suffered make him look more and more like his father who never cared for him, never loved him and that he definitely hates. Which also probably why he tries so hard to make his mother proud of him and love him but he can’t and his main attempt has left him half-dead, half-burn. Not only that but his dragon, with whom he has the strongest bond known in Targaryen’s, history probably died during this futile attempt to prove himself. The only thing about his Targaryen’s heritage that he seems to care about has been destroyed all because he wanted to prove himself. Because he truly resents his Targaryen’s, his father’s heritage, it’s obvious, just as it is obvious that he didn’t want to marry his own sister but was forced to. It’s completely legitimate of him to want to distance himself as much as possible from everything that is Targaryen related. He is indeed more of an Hightower than a Targaryen, but can you really blame him for that ? Would you not try to fit somewhere else too, if you were in his place ? It’s all absolutely and undeniably tragic.

I wholeheartdely believe that, even if you would’ve root for Rheanyra to be Queen, you woud’ve probably still thought that Aegon, as bad as he is, did not deserves this much pain.

But because he is a rapist, well, he honestly does.

By not trusting the audience to see that Aegon is not a good person, nor a good a king, without having him comitting a literal crime, by making Aegon a rapist, the writers have annihilated any possibilities for an internal conflict regarding Aegon and Rhaenyra. The whole concept of « teams » just goes down the drain because of this lazy, manichaean, writing. And that, my friends, is bad writing at its peak.

[neteyamsilly]

Being Neteyam's Only Daughter...

pairing ;; dad!neteyam x daughter!reader

genre ;; headcanons

notes / explanations ;; i wrote this instead of i will soften every edge, the brainrot was too strong. SORRY . entirely unedited so i could get it off my system. not what you guys were waiting for but i hope you enjoy!

♯ After a whole tumultuous lifetime of playing guardian to his siblings that he might as well be called their third parent, getting a whisker’s away from death at his teens solely because his little brother was looking for some action, Neteyam is enervated — he cannot imagine a life with children, and doesn’t even want to. He has already raised three.

♯ He may be good with children in general but that doesn't mean he could handle raising multiple of his own. The thought alone gives him intense anxiety.

♯ A mate would be nice. Would mean privacy, and his own world free from the burden of having to look after his siblings. His own family. One thing belonging to Neteyam and Neteyam only.

♯ He does get a mate, eventually. Right after Tuktirey can be responsible for her own. It's not something his father tells him to do, Neteyam just couldn't trust Lo'ak with their youngest sister even when the boy became a man. Lo'ak was still Lo'ak.

♯ And then comes the dreaded, silent expectation his mother stares right into his soul every time she sees him and his mate together: I want grandchildren.

♯ Neteyam doesn’t. He really doesn’t. Some peace and quiet would be nice for a while, he really likes the mellowness of the present, feels so light now. He has his own life, finally. Home away from the Sullys. He doesn't have to wake himself up before his siblings. The silence and comfort of love is new and strange, but it's nice and it's his. They can pry it away from his cold, dead hands.

♯ No children.

♯ Neteyam finally has his peace.

♯ No children, mother, seriously.

♯ ...Not now, at least.

♯ And if it ever happens. Only one. That would be enough for Neteyam and his mate. The horror of having a big family enters his dreams sometimes even now, he startles awake with the sensation of Lo’ak having ditched him, none of his siblings around, and the trouble that would follow.

♯ Yeah, no. Neteyam isn’t going to spend his life running after another batch of children. No way.

♯ Only one. One is enough.

♯ Eywa, he hopes the child would be like him if it ever happens. Neteyam takes pride in his precocious childhood free of immaturity. Not that he's dying to be a father, but if he ever becomes one, he hopes the child is calm and easy to communicate with.

♯ He knows his mate wants to be a parent one day, and knows he also will be ready eventually, but having to give up how wonderful life has become... Neteyam just wants to be selfish for once.

♯ (Somehow he can't get used to the solitude of peace, but won't admit he misses the rowdiness of his siblings and how bright each and every day was with them. Neteyam doesn't realize it's loneliness.)

♯ He doesn't expect to be as excited when it happens. Neteyam knows before his mate does and it's not the usual pregnancy symptoms, but the change of scent, in the past, he had detected his own mother was with child that way, from what he knew, this was unique to him and him only, but it was conclusive and Neteyam was right every time.

♯ His stomach doesn't sink like he thought it would, and his mate gets scared with the scream that follows his dissociation.

♯ It has to be a girl. He wants it to be a little baby girl. The desire to coddle and pamper his baby the way none of the Sully siblings were overwhelms him. If it was a son, he'd love him all the same, make him feel loved and appreciated like the Sully patriarch never really did with him, it's just, the thought of another Lo'ak on his hands just worries him.

♯ Neteyam really underestimated how ready to be a father he really was. It shouldn't really be surprising to him given his big brother status, he already knows how to be a parent - but didn't know he wanted to be one, deep down, that he looks forward to the chaos his child would bring back to his life.

♯ His mother and father are nothing less than elated. It's going to be their first grandchildren, and Neteyam sees Jake Sully shed a couple tears for the first time in his life. They have a father-son hunting trip together for the offering to Eywa in the name for the safe arrival of his child, and have countless conversations about fatherhood. If it was Lo'ak, he'd be willing to learn the new knowledge, but Neteyam already knows all he should, and his father is guiltily aware of this too, his delivery is awkward, and Neteyam does his best to alleviate the talk.

♯ They don't know the gender until the day you're born.

♯ And his wishes have come true: a girl. You're healthy and fairly plump from how Neteyam kept feeding his mate throughout the pregnancy.

♯ He can't believe he has a child, and that he has his whole life together with you now. How scary it is that you have become his whole world the moment he holds you, that he is the protector of this tiny, little life. How will he be as a father? What kind of person will you become?

♯ It comes as second nature to hold you when it's fairly new to his mate, he knows how to handle you, how to calm you down, how to baby talk that it creeps his siblings out to see him openly loving that way.

♯ His father had talked about the sky person concept of monarchy in the past. He says how you're Neteyam's pretty little princess one day, and it sticks. Neteyam thinks so too, but Paskalin is what he calls you - sweet berry.

♯ Because you are very sweet, the calmest, most endearing baby he's ever known. The most adorable. He doesn't know anyone cuter than you that he catches playful aggression the whole time, wanting to bite into you and pinch you all around. Eywa help him, he hasn't felt like this in his life, ever. None of his siblings were close to being this delightful. His Paskalin is way too loveable.

♯ You don't cry at night, go to sleep easily, only fuss when you want or need something, and are full of smiles and laughter, you know how to entertain yourself. Neteyam can't believe how convenient everything is.

♯ His father says Neteyam was like this as a baby too, and you've taken after him. Usually, the first child's perfection tricks the parents into having more children, he says, and it's the easiest trap to fall into.

♯ Turns out, it's not something Neteyam is happy about. How flawlessly well-behaved you are as a baby, he means. He wished you would act out more, Neteyam would happily go along with your whims.

♯ It stems from his own childhood wounds, he wasn't allowed to be childish, so he hopes you would be. Neteyam wants to give you everything he wanted but couldn't have as a child.

♯ So he spoils you rotten. And it feels gratifying to make you happy.

♯ You and him are inseparable. Wherever he goes, you toddle behind him like a shadow.

♯ Neteyam is warned multiple times by his parents for overindulging you that you'd end up uninterested in the company of your peers, therefore experience isolation and loneliness, and end up hyper-independent because of those poor social skills, that you would end up selfish and entitled because he gave you whatever you wanted and become hyper-sensitive to criticism and in-family conflict due to not experiencing emotional toughening by interacting with friends and being too overly fond of him, your main source of affection.

♯ Some of those worries end up being realized, and some of them don't.

♯ As you grow up, Neteyam's wishes that you would want to be spoiled more get grander. His daughter is generous and loving. You aren't immature and childlike like he wants you to be. His Paskalin keeps getting sweeter as you get older and older. You don't ever ask for anything the more Neteyam wants to keep giving, always saying you had everything you could ask for in life, and if you wanted a specific something, you could get it yourself and wouldn't want to bother him with that.

♯ Neteyam really regrets praying to Eywa for an obedient child.

♯ He thinks of having more children at times, to give you companions, but gives up on it as soon as he entertains the idea. He would never want you to go through the same things as he did as the eldest brother.

♯ Neteyam doesn't know what to do about you not straying from his side and only ever wanting to be around adults. Your favorite people are your grandparents. That shouldn't really be a child's first preference, right? He knows he was like this, but also, it wasn't normal. Even your aunt Tuk was too young for you and her hyperactivity made you uncomfortable for some reason.

♯ He never knew your dislike of going out and socializing, your preference of staying on your own rather than getting close to your younger cousins.

♯ Great Mother, you weren't a shy girl that he knows of, always talkative and energetic with him. Neteyam has only noticed your quietness recently when you were old enough to go and start learning with other kids.

♯ You don't have any friends that he knows of. You orbit around people your age, but don't get involved, more interested in your hobbies and interests and duties within the village.

♯ His mother told him this would happen.

♯ Kiri tells him he has raised a girl version of himself and it bothers Neteyam. He loves that you are a daddy's girl and so close to him that you are basically transparent to him, but he really wishes you were more childish. You are too mature for his liking.

♯ When you hit your teens, he's confronted with a new dilemma. He doesn't know what a helicopter parent is, but his father says Neteyam has become one. That he doesn't allow you to face failure and challenges, and heavily guides you the more he becomes anxious about how you're turning up. He says Neteyam needs to leave you alone.

♯ Which he's too anxious to do. He doesn't know where this comes from and why he's this way. Neteyam just worries too much and doesn't want you to have the troubles he did.

♯ It becomes particularly stronger when he finds out you were having bullying problems.

♯ In the clan his father was the Olo'eyktan of. In the clan he was to be Olo'eyktan of. He can't fathom the audacity any more than he can't believe you were hiding it from him. You never hid anything from your father in your life, ever. He makes you cry for the first time when he confronts you and gets angry over it.

♯ You hadn't even done anything wrong, and Neteyam regrets it immediately, hugging you and apologizing for it on the spot.

♯ He offers to teach those kids who saw you too meek a lesson, but you tell him that they do it because they think of you unworthy to be his daughter and Toruk Makto's family. He learns they think you're weak and passive with barely any presence at all, when you were the brightest and sweetest girl Neteyam knew.

♯ Someone had taught you humiliation where he couldn't see or help. Stripped you off your worth. These kids were jealous of you. They wanted your status and it was clear as day to Neteyam, but he couldn't make you see the way he saw.

♯ It's Lo'ak who teaches you how to bite back, Kiri how to hit where it hurts with words and Tuk how to manipulate. None of them let Neteyam get involved, you have to do this on your own and prove your worth to yourself.

♯ He can't be more proud of you when you manage to stand up for yourself, and excitedly tell him about it one day along with the news that you have made a couple friends, too.

♯ The feeling of you branching on your own path stings and weighs heavy in his heart as he tastes the bittersweet of his child growing up, but his Paskalin would be alright, he decides.

♯ He will be with you every step of the way.

[morphean42]

Rewatching Falsettos I was suddenly struck by an epiphany that I’m sure someone else has had at some point, but I needed to write out. This ending scene from “March of the Falsettos” jumped out at me from the first watching, but even though I recognised the nod to the “See no evil, speak no evil, hear no evil (and lesser known do no evil)”, I didn’t know what it meant. Today, I tried to piece it together, and I think I’ve gotten it. These poses represent core attributes of the characters, as well as Trina’s view of them, so click the read more to hear the ravings of a mad man wayyyyyy too obsessed with this show

The idea of ‘evil’ to me is very loose. It can represent a lot of things for these characters; their actions towards each other, their character flaws, etc. But, for this analysis, one can replace ‘evil’ with ‘truth’. Each of the characters refuses to see, speak, hear, or ‘do’ the truth (please excuse the lack of grammar for that last one), and that is where the ‘evil’ stems from. Taking into account this is mostly based on Trina’s view of the men, I think ‘truth’ fits in well.

Let’s start with the one who fits in least— Jason. “March of the Falsettos” is a physical manifestation of how Trina views the men in her life (as childish and immature), but some slack is given to her son. He doesn’t sing his lines in falsetto, because we acknowledge he is in fact a child, and has more of an excuse to act as such. So, take his analysis with a grain of salt. The boy has every right to be a little selfish— he’s 10.

So, Jason has his hands over his eyes, representing ‘See No Evil’. This is a direct nod to his character flaw; his view of the world with him at the center. Although his parents are less than good to him, he still sees them through unfair lenses— ‘My mother’s no wife/My father’s no man’. He sings ‘everybody’s yelling and everybody’s ruining it’ in “Everyone Hates His Parents” because he is unhappy with how his Bar Mitzvah is turning out and wants to simply cancel it. He doesn’t have a concept of doing things for other people (again, he’s a child, I’m not blaming him per se), so he is blind to the will of others and refuses to see their side. In addition to this, even when Mendel tells him Whizzer will most likely die, Jason pleads with G-d to save him. He still views himself as the center of his world, thus Mendel’s line ‘Life’s not all about him’.

In addition to this, his ‘See No Evil’ means something when thought about from Trina’s perspective. She thinks her son is blind to the truth of the world, this son who stays inside playing chess alone, this son who ‘seems like an idiot to [Trina]’. She worries Jason will turn out like these other men in her world, blind to everyone but himself.

Now we come to Mendel, who has his hand over his mouth in ‘Speak No Evil’. Mendel’s flaw throughout the show is his refusal to accept the truth of any situation. He tells Jason to ‘feel alright for the rest of your life’ instead of actually trying to help, he is ‘frightened of questions’, he repeats over and over ‘I’ll make you well’ to Whizzer in the hospital. He will never say anything negative, nor will he allow others to do so. Even in the end of the show, he tells Jason they don’t know ‘when or if’ Whizzer will get better— he is still not accepting that it’s a definite thing. He believes that if he and those around him just don’t speak about the real problems, they’ll go away.

Trina’s view on Mendel is complicated here. In the next song she agrees to marry him, of course, and we know she at least likes him (the most of all three adults she knows). She says that Mendel ‘decides the role to assume’. She looks down on the fact that he can’t speak the truth to her, that he’s expecting this happy wife, this perfect new family. He wants her to play along with him and make their home together, even if she sings ‘liking our lives’ instead of loving. Even if he’s better than Marvin ever was, there’s still an element of control here. Mendel wants this family, and he wants them to all pretend nothing is ever wrong again.

Marvin, our titular character, is in the ‘Hear No Evil’ position. This one is fairly straight forward— he wants control and will never listen to the needs of those around him. He can’t hear what they actually need, he simply does what he wants. He also struggles with his masculinity throughout Act 1, his outward misogyny and need for the nuclear family (his treatment of Trina and Whizzer), so he imagines himself at the top of his family system. He will never take any other opinions, or counsel, in his decisions, seeing that as weakness. He’s similar to Jason in this regard, as he only hears what he wants to (like Jason only sees what he wants). He ignores the pain around him to pursue his own desires, he covers his ears and moves on.

Trina, of course, despises Marvin at this point in the show. Her subconscious showing Marvin in ‘Hear No Evil’ can tell us a lot about their relationship, how she was never seen as equal in decisions. Marvin always put her to the side, not listening to her needs, acting without thinking of her.

Whizzer is complicated. I’ve seen people laugh at his pose before, saying we’ve got ‘See No Evil, Hear No Evil, Speak No Evil, and Gay’, but I think he represents the ‘Do No Evil’. This final character is not often seen with the other three, and can be depicted with arms over the chest or covering the genitals. It wouldn’t make sense to have Whizzer be the outlier (especially because the fourth depiction of evil does exist), so I’m assuming he is supposed to be ‘Do No Evil’.

This fits in well with Whizzer’s flaws throughout the show. He doesn’t accept responsibility for his relationship with Marvin; seen in the lines ‘I’m not responsible’ during “Late For Dinner” or ‘I will not accept blame’ in “Games I Play”. He sleeps around, despite Marvin wanting monogamy, and clearly did not have an issue hooking up with a married man. Whizzer fundamentally doesn’t think his actions have consequences, he believes he has done nothing wrong (he has done no evil). Whizzer also has a hard time admitting to his love for Marvin. He says it ‘depends on the day’, he flat out says ‘no’ when asked if he loves him. He doesn’t want to show his love for fear of being too vulnerable, so he hides and doesn’t do anything about it.

To take this even further, him being ‘Do No Evil’ can represent his later question of ‘why me of all men’ when he is dying. He hasn’t done anything to deserve his death, and ‘all men get what they deserve’, right?

Moving on to how Trina sees Whizzer. He’s come into her life and ruined her marriage, though she ‘wants to hate him’ she can’t. She views him as the cause of her recent hardships, his actions being to blame. He is ‘Do No Evil’ to her because he has done evil in taking Marvin away (though it is obvious Trina is better off because of it). He has upset the careful balance of her world by breaking down the lies of her marriage and exposing the truth— Marvin never loved her, could never love her. She puts him in ‘Do No Evil’ because what he has done is what the rest of the men won’t— see, hear, speak the truth even at the detriment of her family.

Another way to view this is, of course, the fact that ‘Do No Evil’ is rarely seen with the others. Trina is separating Whizzer from the other men, not putting him in the same category as the rest of the ‘family’. He views himself as an outsider as well, yes he’s part of the group, but only as a technicality. Only as Marvin’s lover. Once he leaves Marvin, he is easily taken out of the equation and the remaining three do not feel the loss.

My conclusion is such: Each of the poses our men do represents the character flaw they must overcome throughout the show, as well as how Trina views them in her mind. I really hope this made any sort of sense, and if someone has already said all of this well… I guess it can’t hurt to be thorough.

I’m way too tired to read through this again so if there are spelling mistakes please print out this post, correct it in red pen, and send it to me by carrier pigeon.

[just-orbiting-you]

jungkook i think has progressed past tae's immaturity, making him a better match for someone like jimin anyway

To be fair, I think a lot of that is jimin's influence. Whether they are romantically involved or not, spending so much time around and having deep meaningful conversations with someone who is soooo emotionally mature and conscientious of their actions and of how they make others feel will make you think more about how you treat others. Jungkook admits to being immature and selfish when he was younger, but I think we can all see how he stepped up and grew emotionally and I think jimin played a big role in that. I mean we even see the ways he stepped up for jimin specifically, like buying jimin bday presents even if he didn't get it for the others or being a jimin encyclopedia about what he likes/dislikes or other times where he's just obviously emotionall aware of jimin's needs. I'm not even implying anything inherently romantic here, but just that you can see that he hears, like genuinely, hears and listens to what jimin talks to him about. And that's a huge part of emotional maturity/intelligence, being able to really listen to someone and understand their needs.

anon is referencing the end of this post: https://www.tumblr.com/just-orbiting-you/757032090657292288/i-actually-agree-quite-a-bit-with-the-other-anon?source=share

thank you for this ask, it really enlightened this clip for me. i thought a lot about this when Taemin's Suchwita ep dropped, specifically this clip above. i thought, even if the members notice that jungkook has taken elements of all seven members as he grew up, i couldn't really place how exactly jimin influenced him, which is kinda foolish looking back.

Jungkook admits to being immature and selfish when he was younger, but I think we can all see how he stepped up and grew emotionally and I think jimin played a big role in that.

the rainy day flight encapsulates this perfectly. we don't know exactly what they were fighting about that day, but we know jimin tried his best to get jungkook to think critically about his actions, even if it was leaving him at the practice room. jungkook remembering that day so vividly and bringing it up 6-7 years later in 2020 goes to show that day really stuck with him. you're right, jimin taking jungkook under his wing early in bts's career was crucial in jungkook becoming who he is today.

when you admire someone, platonically or romantically, you often begin to model that person's outlook and behavior. it's not only clear to me that jungkook cares deeply for jimin just in the way he is so attentive, but also how jk has effectively modeled jimin's maturity to match him. this happened simultaneously as jimin allowed jungkook to practice growing a mutually mature, respectful and vulnerable relationship. growing their relationship helped jungkook grow too.

jungkook once would resort to a little bit of violence/playfighting around jimin, tease him by calling him the least attractive in the group, etc. now he's really puts his kind heart on display, being so generous with jimin, eager to praise him and take care of him. on top of jungkook's emotional growth evolving him into such a sweet

this is why i love jikook so much. their relationship holds so much depth and it's so clear that love and trust each other so much so they would go to the fuckass military together. ugh my jikook :').

[thefriendoforatioisdead]

I personally think that as of right now, since they are stil very young, Anin is very right to talk of desire and not love. I think at this point she is attracted to Pin, but it's not a romantic, deep, proufoundly strong love.

Obviously, she loves her best-friend, but she is not IN LOVE with her just now. Whereas I think Pin might already be falling in love in a truly romantic sense, even if she is in obvious denial about it.

And I do think Pin also has very strong desire for Anin (but she's not as bold about it), but in my opinion, her romantic feelings have been developing very slowly, carefully, gently. Blooming like a flower if you allow me the metaphor. Something quiet and soft, yet impossible to ignore. Something that is exactly like the relationship we saw between them in the first two episodes : It's loving and gentle, cute and sweet. But when Anin comes back, Pin is very very distraught by the fact that Anin has changed. When she says that she feels like she doesn't know her anymore I think she's talking about their relationship, because she can feel that the energy has changed. Because, as for herself, Anin's feelings are, as she said, ''burning''. They're quite brutal, if the way she acts with Pin is any indicator. They're powerful, demanding, and they overtook her fast and strong, in a way she can't, and doesn't want to fight.

So while Pin is still taking her time figuring out the gentle romantic emotions she's developping for her best-friend, Anin comes back with desire, physical intimacy, and her mind set on the idea of making her hers, without really even considering her heart. She knows what she wants, but she doesn't give Pin the time to figure out what SHE wants. She forces her to face her desire, which must be scary for someone as calm and shy as Pin, instead of letting it come to her slowly.

Their relationship is a little rocky, and will be for some time, because as of right now, they are not at the same level. Pin is falling in love and not ready for desire but is forced to face it, while Anin has strong and understood desire, but isn't letting herself really appreciate a return to the emotional connection they use to have because she just wants sex, and therefore not letting herself fall in love.

So I guess what I'm trying to say is that for now we can see how immature they still both are in their love, because Anin is selfish and Pin is ''repressed'', and Anin is not giving her the space to come to term with her emotions. And I can't wait to see how all of this will evolve into something more sincere and deep. It's a very good storytelling

[gurugirl]

A Balancing Act | Ch. 3*

Series Summary: Harry is a famous, rich, handsome, pop star and he’s been in therapy since his boy band days. When he meets Y/n, a beautiful and successful artist, he cannot take no for an answer when it comes to her. He’s determined to make her his even if he has to bend the rules a little at first.

Chapter Summary: Y/n has some explaining to do and Harry wants to show her exactly what he likes.

Warning: 18+ only, NSFW, smut, dom & sub dynamics (with use of implements), angst (light), mentions of death.

Word Count: 12,003

Commissioned by @cinnamonone (thank you!! xoxo)

A Balancing Act Masterlist

“She was married,” Harry started off their session before Pat even had a chance to sit in her usual spot.

“Who? Y/n?”

Harry nodded and sighed, “Yeah. She never told me. She’s not married now. Well, he died actually. Health condition. But I was… I just didn’t expect it. I mean…” he shook his head and crossed a leg over his knee, “I was surprised. Like… it’s a lot. You know? And it’s selfish of me to think this way but how can I be better than someone she loved enough to marry? And now he’s just gone and it’s not because he did anything wrong. She still loves him. It’s been a few years since he passed but she has this big wedding photo framed in her living room. That’s how I found out.”

Pat listened closely as Harry talked about how it made him feel. He’d gotten very good at being able to describe his feelings and was comfortable enough to verbalize them to Pat.

“So when you saw the photo what happened? I’m assuming you were at her home? You said it was in her living room.”

Harry looked up at Pat, “Oh yeah. I uh… went to visit her. We kind of had a rough go. She did find out about the girl I kissed so I flew out to see her. She was on a date and I… well I went to where they were and saw them and then-“

“Harry Styles! You did not!” Pat lambasted.

Harry gulped as he nodded, “I know. It was a questionable move. Quite immature of me, but she knows that it’s us. There’s no one else that she can connect with this way. She wound up leaving with me anyway so-“

“I’m gonna interrupt you again because I’m shocked! That is kind of the opposite of how you should have gone about seeing her again, Harry. Are you two still seeing one another? Talking?”

“Yeah, we are. She wound up telling me she liked me more anyway. It worked out. I know I shouldn’t have done it that way but it’s already done.”

“And here I thought you wanted to talk about how she’d kept a big secret from you. How you were hurt by it and how it made you feel. But having you go and intercept her during a date? She should have told you off, had you go back home. And you’re right. That was very immature. Feels like a step backward from all the work you’ve put in. You’re really good at making things happen and getting what you want,” she emphasized as Harry sighed and shook his head, “but sometimes it’s not healthy. What you did was very coercive. You can’t force your will on everyone, Harry.”

“I know. I told you I’m selfish. I don’t know why I did it. I just feel like she and I are really good for each other. I needed to make a move. Do something dramatic to prove it to her. Especially after she learned about the kiss.”

“And how did she take that news when you told her?”

Harry pulled his lips into his mouth and looked down at his hands.

“You were the one to bring her the information, correct?”

He shook his head, “She saw it in some gossip article.”

“And she still welcomed you and even left her date for you? Maybe you should have her come see me too. Sounds like you both could use some emotional support and therapy.”

Harry grinned and gave Pat his sweet puppy dog eyes, “Maybe. Perhaps I can convince her to move in with me and you can see us both.”

“Okay. I think you’re moving too fast here.”

“I don’t. I’ve never felt this way before, Pat! I know it’s insane but I’m not kidding you when I tell you that she’s really good for me. I’m good for her too. Like… I’d marry her tomorrow if I could. I’m so down to just be with her.”

The therapist nodded, “So, you’re not actually bothered by the fact that she has a dead husband?”

Harry put his leg down and leaned back into his chair, “No. I am upset. Not at her because I understand why she didn’t tell me. It doesn’t make me not want to be with her. It’s just something to contend with is all. It was a shock.”

“I bet. So you really feel very deeply for her then? And she feels the same?”

“I think she does. Asked her to be my girlfriend before I left Chicago too. I know it’s fast but she’s incredible.”

“Girlfriend, huh? That’s kind of a big step.”

“I know. I’m just… I think I love her. I can’t get enough of her. I’ve never felt like this.”

“I feel like you’ve fed me those same lines before.”

Harry shook his head and looked up at Pat, “No. I swear. This time is different. I know I can’t convince you of that but it is. I love to fall in love but with Y/n it’s like life. A gift.”

Pat sighed and put her notebook down. She could see that Harry was very excited about Y/n. That he did what he thought he needed to. And while she was used to his occasional antics of forcing his hand to get his way and the way he fell in love too fast; she could see that this was indeed a little different. Even with months apart he still went after her. He still seemed to be just as excited about her.

“I see that. I’m happy for you, Harry. So what are your plans with her for when you leave for Europe in two weeks? You’ll be gone for nearly two months again. How do you intend to maintain the relationship when you’re going to be apart for so long?”

.        .        .

One week earlier

Her heart dropped when she realized what he was looking at. She hadn’t planned on telling him this way. She had planned on telling him at some point. But it was always a strange thing to bring up to people who didn’t already know about her past.

Robert was a great guy. She met him in college when she was dating around. They had a few dates but then broke up and they both dated other people but remained friends for a couple of years. Until one day he told her he didn’t like her seeing other people. That it made him jealous. She hadn’t realized.

And she hadn’t really been jealous when he was going on dates with other women. But the notion that there was a man, who was her friend, that was jealous of her going on dates, wanted her, felt this way about her… well it was quite flattering and unexpected. And the rest is history.

They got married and bought the house she currently lived in. He was a high school teacher. A genuinely nice man. A bit of a homebody at times, but she loved him with all of her heart. After they’d been married for a year he was diagnosed with having Wilson’s Disease. He was born with it (which no one knew) but only ever started showing symptoms at age 25. And by then it was too late. He was already having some major health issues. His liver was failing.

Y/N knew something was wrong when he was slurring his speech badly one evening and they had only been drinking water. And then the following day he was still slurring and he called off work because he was too tired to get out of bed. So she booked a doctor’s appointment for him and after nearly a month of running tests, one doctor suggested a urine sample, and the labs came back the following day with high levels of copper. Which indicated cirrhosis of the liver, which then pointed to Wilson’s disease.

And only six months after his diagnosis, he was gone.

She and Harry sat on her couch and she told him everything. Harry was stunned. He didn’t even know she’d been married before. But to know her husband had died? And she did admit that she still loved him. But of course, she did. Harry didn’t know how he could compete with such a thing.

“Well… I guess that kind of killed the mood. Didn’t it?” She looked at Harry who had been pretty quiet throughout her confession.

“It’s just sobering,” he looked at her as he spoke, “but, maybe we could order something in to eat? Some wine? Talk some more?”

“Harry, you don’t have to sit here and listen to me talk about my dead husband. If you want to go you can. It’s okay. Really.”

Harry scrunched his brows together and pulled her hands into his, “That’s not… Do you still want me here?”

“Well, yeah. I mean I’ve come to terms with all of this already. I just know when I talk about it to people who don’t already know they always pity me and it changes everything. So, I’m just giving you an out.”

Harry cleared his throat and slowly dragged his thumbs over her knuckles, “I don’t want an out. I want to spend time with you. Maybe we can eat, though. Kind of let this idea settle a bit and then drink some wine and put a movie on. See where the night takes us.”

And so that’s just what they did. Y/n hadn’t eaten anything because she had left the restaurant with Harry before dinner was served. And Harry hadn’t eaten either. So it was actually a perfect idea.

They talked more. Harry was practically glued to her side. Holding her hand, keeping her glass of wine filled, watching her closely, brushing his fingers down her arms. They watched a movie and Harry pulled her into his chest as they lay together on her couch.

But after about thirty minutes of having Harry’s chest pressed into her back, she felt something hard and stiff tucked into her bottom. She hadn’t taken off the dress she wore on her date and Harry wasn’t watching the movie at all. He was looking down over her pretty profile, her hips, her bum…

When she felt his lips graze over the back of her ear she realized he wasn’t actually totally turned off about hearing of her past. In fact, he was very clearly aroused. Closing her eyes she let him gently press kisses down her neck and allowed him to pull her into him tighter, grinding his hips into her plush bottom and she was relieved he still wanted her at all.

At first, she thought that he was just being sweet. Because he was a sweet guy. Maybe he felt bad for her and didn’t want to make her feel bad so he stayed. But now? Well, she was quite excited by his sudden change in demeanor back to what it had been before they’d walked into her house.

Harry’s hand smoothed down her hip to her thigh and stopped at the hem of her dress before he began pushing the material upward, “Is this okay?” He whispered against her skin.

Y/n nodded and put her hand over his, assisting him in pushing her dress up, “Yes.”

That was all he needed to have them both return to the state they’d been in before he saw the framed photo of her on her wedding day.

“Good. Then let’s turn this terrible movie off and get you naked.”

She remembered him telling her he’d brought some things. But what his small suitcase revealed was not expected, a vibrating wand, black bondage tape, 2 sets of cuffs, and various sizes of clamps. And a bottle of lube.

Harry explained everything to her as he kissed her gently and removed her clothes, “We don’t have to use any of this. But I thought it would be fun to try. I think you’ll like some of these. Have you ever been tied up?”

Y/n shook her head as she ran her fingers over the smooth tape, “No. How does this work?”

He plucked the roll from her hand and began to unwind the tape as he spoke, “This won’t stick to your skin, it only sticks to itself. But it’ll work nicely to bind you. It’s not as harsh as rope and it’s easy to come off.”

When he pulled the wand out of the little cloth bag it was in he handed it to her, “Lie flat and put this over yourself. Place it where it feels the best and whatever setting you like the most.”

Harry was slowly getting into his dom mode and Y/n could see it. He started off gently and slowly. Lots of kissing, touching, talking… he had her feeling comfortable and she trusted him. The way he slowly kissed her arms and her tits, lowering his wet lips to the heavy underside of her breasts and squeezing her nipples as he dipped over her tummy and praised her, “Fucking gorgeous. Hard to believe I got so lucky.”

But when he told her to lie flat on the bed something had shifted into a different gear. It was a minute transition but it was noticeable. He unwound the tape as he watched her do as she was told.

She was completely naked while he was still dressed, which made her feel very vulnerable, exposed. She clicked the wand on to its low setting and placed the head in a spot she knew she’d like. It did feel good. She was already a bit wet from the kissing and the gentle touches but it didn’t take long for her to begin seeping and coating the vibrating silicone bulb that was pressed against her.

Harry kneed up to the bed and pushed her thighs further apart so he could see her better, “Because you’re new to this you probably don’t have any kind of safe word in mind yet. So if you don’t like anything, just tell me. Say stop and I will. If you like all this we can think of something to use in lieu of just stop. But for now, we’re not going to get too much into that kind of roleplay so no or stop will work.”

He wanted to show her the things he liked. These were all easy introductions into the way he liked to play and if they were going to be seeing one another more he felt it was good to start her out like this. Give her a slow, soft launch so she could explore the things she liked too. He’d move it up a notch later on. For now, the debut into dom and sub-dynamics would be very delicate because she had never played this way. Eventually, they’d both learn what she liked together, that is if she wanted to stick around.

She nodded and Harry leaned over her and took the wand from her hand, “Arms over your head,” she quickly moved her arms upward as he positioned the wand against her clit and used the bondage tape to secure it in place, wrapping the tape around the handle to the top of her thigh and keeping the vibrating bulb at her pussy to give her just enough stimulation.

He climbed up and pushed her over to her tummy, the wand still working its magic, and pulled her hands behind her back, “I’m going to bind your wrists together like this,” he showed her the position and paused to make sure she didn’t have any objections, “and then,” he pushed her legs up by their shins, her ankles and feet up, thighs down, “use the tape to bind your ankles too. Is this okay with you?”

She nodded, “Yes.”

“Ah ah ah… Yes who?” He chided.

She bit her lip and smiled, “Yes, Daddy.”

Harry gave her a swat to her bottom, “There you go. I’ll give you one pass. If you forget to address me properly again we’ll take a break while I spank your bottom red.”

Her bottom stung from the one swat and she nodded, mostly to herself as he explained the rules. She couldn’t see the work he was doing because he was behind her but she could feel his hands on her skin and smooth tape wrapping around and between her wrists. It was gentle and he was right. The tape wasn’t sticky on her skin so it wasn’t pulling the fine hairs she had on her arms, which she was thankful for.

Then he used the tape on her ankles, securing them together in much the same way he did her wrists, around and in between. Meanwhile, the wand was still vibrating against her pussy and causing her heart to race. She didn’t know what to expect but this was quite exhilarating. Exciting. Harry was exciting.

“So pretty. Goddamn,” he said as he let his hands roam over her thighs and her bottom. He dug his fingers into the soft flesh and then smoothed his hands up to her low back before he moved his warm lips to the small of her back. She felt his hair ghost along her spine as he kissed his way up to her neck.

“How do you feel?” Harry’s voice was strained as he spoke.

“I’m good. Feels really good so far.” And it did. She wasn’t just saying it to appease him either. She loved this more than she could understand. It wasn’t like anything she’d ever delved into before. She hadn’t realized the way it would make her feel. She was a little nervous about her body on display for him in this way. She was chubby and this was quite the compromising position to be in when Harry Styles, with his very fit body, was in the room and inspecting all of her nooks and crannies. But there was something about being exposed to him this way, unable to move from being tied up, totally naked with all her parts available to him to see and touch that sent her adrenaline to spike.

She felt him push her ankles flat to the bed and then pull her up at her hips, causing her knees to dig into the mattress until her body was upright with her back into his chest. He stayed behind her bringing his hands up to her breasts and began palming over each, “How sensitive are your breasts? Do you play with them when you masturbate?”

Her brain was having a hard time focusing with the way he was touching her and speaking but she swallowed and closed her eyes to answer, “Uh… I think they’re pretty sensitive. Sometimes I squeeze them to make my nipples hard, but not all the time.”

Boobs weren’t really much of a part of sex for her. When Robert was alive he enjoyed them a lot. But to her, she could take it but mostly would have preferred to leave it. Because her nipples were quite sensitive and sometimes the stimulation was too much. So she generally would gently brush over her bud and work them up to get hard as she looked in the mirror. If she felt like playing with them. Which she usually didn’t.

“Let’s see what you like. Okay?” He continued squeezing and massaging the flesh, his thumbs focusing on her nipples, his lips on her neck causing her to keen and pitch her head to the side.

“Your nipples need some attention, Y/n. I can tell you’re very tender here,” he lightly pinched each nipple and she gasped, “See? We’ll take it easy. Work you up to something a little more stimulating.”

The sensation of the slow squeezing and soft pinches at her nipples was leveled out by the way he kissed at her neck and sucked her skin into his mouth, nipping very gently. Not to mention the vibrator taped into place and pressed to her pussy. Now, the way it was attached it wasn’t over her clit (thankfully she figured) but it was pulsating an inch below the spot that would have her losing it. The vibrations were strong enough that her whole core was feeling it, though, and she imagined it had been placed purposely in just that spot with the intent that she would slowly lose her mind until she was begging and aching for more.

So, yeah, everything he was doing was feeling really good. Having her nipples toyed with was even nice. The varying sensual touches were unexpected but quite welcomed. His whispered words were sweet and dirty.

“Oh baby, you are gonna be so ready for my cock when I’m done with you. Aren’t you?”

She nodded and her answer came out in a whine, “Yes.”

Harry chuckled and nosed at her ear, “Got the front of my trousers all wet. Would you like a taste of what your pussy is dripping?”

Another first… in bed with a man. She’d tasted herself out of curiosity a couple of times but never in front of anyone. She’d already gotten into it this far, she figured tasting herself would be fine so she nodded.

Harry removed a palm from her right breast and drew his fingers through her slippery cunt, spreading her labia and lathering his fingers in her before grasping her chin with his other hand and tilting her head back so he could watch as he stuffed his drenched fingers into her mouth.

She closed her eyes as his fingers dragged over her tongue and his knuckles rubbed at the roof of her mouth. She was just as she’d tasted before. It wasn’t a surprise but the gesture, the way it was happening, being held and tied and taken care of… it was hot.

“You taste so good, Y/n. Needed to share it with you. Let you taste first. Before I have my turn.”

Harry pulled his fingers from her lips and then brought his hands back down to her breasts and this time his mouth caught hers, keeping her head turned so he could have access, as he rolled her nipples between his fingers. She whimpered into his mouth and couldn’t believe how pathetic she sounded.

Slowly, he released her chin as he pushed her to bend at the waist with her ass in the air, face smushed into her mattress.

Harry groaned as he put his big palms over her round-as-a-plum bottom and squeezed. Her bum was his favorite. He’d never seen one so perfect. Her thick tush and soft thighs were beckoning to him. It was one of the first things he’d noticed about her when they first met in fact. And now here he was getting to touch it and smack it.

But before he could get to the piece de resistance he leaned in and licked over her glistening crease. She gasped as she jerked her body, not expecting a tongue to be gliding through her needy slit but that didn’t deter him. It only made him go in harder, lapping at her and moaning as he pressed in harder, the tip of his nose pressing into her anus as the vibrator was set as close to her clit as it could get.

She wanted to grab onto something but was unable to with her hands tied behind her back. Her face was smushed into the mattress as he ate her out from behind. Another thing she’d never been on the receiving end of. Being eaten out from behind with her bum hole exposed and a nose nudging into her. Probably smelling all of her.

“Harry!” She shrieked when he sucked her clit into his mouth and pushed two fingers in as far as they’d reach.

Harry chuckled as he kissed her pussy and moved away to speak, “Do I need to spank you? I really would prefer you to address me properly when we’re playing.”

She panted and squeezed her eyes closed as he continued fingering her, “Fuck… Daddy. Sorry.” It was hard for her to remember all the rules and calling anyone Daddy in this setting was foreign to her.

Harry got back to lapping at her leisurely. He could feel the vibrations from the wand making her labia buzz softly against his lips and his fingers.

He felt his cock digging into the inside of his zipper and it hurt. He needed to let the beast out for relief so he reluctantly backed away and undid his pants, pulling his cock out. He pressed himself to her entrance, letting the underside of his bare cock lather in her wetness.

She felt how warm he was as he let himself slide through her pussylips slowly. The vibrator was putting her on edge fast, “Please! Fuck me, Daddy…” she groaned lowly and Harry hissed when she backed herself toward him, his tip nearly getting swallowed by her drippy pussy.

“Yeah? Need Daddy’s cock? Which hole do you want it in?”

This had her suddenly caught off guard. She assumed something else but when his tip was pressed at her other hole she wasn’t sure how to respond.

Harry noticed her silence but wasn’t deterred, “It’s okay if you don’t want to try. But I think you’ll like it. I can start off using my fingers like last time, fuck your pussy for a bit and then let you decide if you think you want it.”

“Yeah. Okay. Let’s try that first,” her words were mumbled with the way her cheek was smashed into the bed.

He was prepared with a bottle of lube next to him and he squirted a healthy dollop over her bum, pressing the slick liquid into her hole gently with one finger. His thick tip was positioned at her desperate little pussy hole and he sighed at the view. One of his fingers taking up space in her bum and his cock ready to push its way inside, “Shit, baby. I have to grab a condom,” he spoke lowly as he toyed with her opening a little more, tempting fate and allowing the smallest bit of his cock to press into her cunt.

“No! Please, Daddy… just like this. Just fuck me. Please,” she was nearly shaking as she felt his smooth crown dipping into her. She wanted him bare. Wanted to feel him rigid and unsheathed inside of her.

Harry pulled in a deep breath and moaned. It was music to his ears. He hadn’t wanted a condom with her. He was desperate to push inside without any barriers and she was giving him permission.

Plunging in the smallest bit before pulling back out, his tip was coated in her arousal, “Yeah? You want Daddy’s cock raw, baby? Want me to fill you up now? Fuck you like I was meant to?”

She tried to push herself back onto him with the bit of movement she was able to conjure and she moaned when she felt him pushing into her, but this time, he didn’t pull out as he slid his second finger into her ass and plunged his wide cock into her pussy, spreading her apart, he groaned at how absolutely sopping she was already.

Much like the first time he fingered her ass and fucked her, the tension and the tight feeling were the same, but it felt good, the pleasure blossomed and felt heavy, thick, tangible. It was as if something inside of her was becoming unfastened. But unlike last time she had a vibrating wand sending shockwaves over her body leaving goosebumps under Harry’s hand when he touched her skin.

Oh, and she was bound by her wrists and ankle so there was that too.

Harry pressed into her until his balls were flush against her body and the vibrations of the wand were making his insides nearly burst. He didn’t want to come too fast, but he had been on edge for over an hour. An hour of torture. Beginning with their steakhouse restaurant bathroom antics, to the way she licked and sucked him in the car ride and until now. And not having a condom on was going to be something to contend with. The condom helped to decrease the delicious sensations he was currently feeling with her warm, wet walls squeezing around him tightly.

Harry slowly moved out and back in, watching his prick as her pussy gripped him and sucked him in, glazing his cock in her cream, dampening his pubic hair at his base.

Y/n loved the feel of him bare inside of her. He felt harder and thicker, the friction was more intense and the idea that he was fucking her without a condom was a turn-on as well. Her breathing deepened as she felt him dip into her so far it ached. He was going in slowly but every time he bottomed out he jerked himself into her as if to make a point about what they were doing. He was being gentle, but his cock was pressing into her guts and making space for its size.

He could tell her breathing was becoming labored and louder. She was arching her back slightly more and rolling her hips the best she could. She was searching for her orgasm. It was close. The intent was to fuck her slowly until she came and shivered and wept and begged. And then he’d fuck into her until she’d calmed and finger her ass deeper and harder until she was ready for his dick.

He angled his two fingers upward and twisted slowly as he rocked his hips into her. Everything was vibrating. His cock was throbbing and aching to come as he fingered her bottom and watched as she slowly got used to the intrusion.

“You can come, baby. Come on Daddy’s cock. Let’s see it.” He urged her.

She was so close. So so so close. Her body was sweating and buzzing. Her clit was just out of reach of the toy but she knew she could come. Her clit might not have had anything touching it directly but the wand was thrumming just below it and making her button pulse and jolt.

“I wanna come! I wanna come, Daddy…” she groaned as she pinched her eyes closed and felt tears forced from her lashes.

“Then do it, little girl. Fucking come, baby,” Harry continued using his fingers and his cock on her but he had to close his eyes. The sinful scene was too much for any mortal to withstand. Harry was going to come if he kept watching. He gritted his teeth as he felt her shaking and a soft rumble fell from her mouth. Her thighs stiffened and her gentle moans and gasps turned into breathy panting and then shouts of his name as she erupted in bliss on his cock.

Harry coughed out a gasp and continued his slow thrusts as his balls tightened readying for an orgasm. But he sucked in a sharp breath and let his mind wander to another place that gave him a second wind of sorts. Something to keep him from coming prematurely. He wanted to praise her and watch as she spasmed and pulsed around him but for the sake of good sex, he had to hold back. He needed to wait to come. His priority was her. And to be able to get the chance to fuck her ass.

When her shivering thighs slowly melted and her body relaxed Harry pulled out with a gasp. Just in the nick of time. He panted as he gathered himself, his throbbing cock was wet and cooled by the air of her bedroom, “Fuck baby. Almost made me come you felt so good.”

He kept his fingers inside of her, and now she was relaxed around his fingers. With his free hand, he gathered up her arousal on his fingers and smeared it around her hole before pushing a third finger inside of her. She moaned softly and opened her eyes at the feel of the extra finger pressing into her.

Her body was spent but there was still a spark of heat and arousal there. As if she hadn’t yet been fully satisfied, despite the intense orgasm she’d just endured. The vibrating of the wand was still going strong.

Harry poured a little more lube onto her anus as he pushed into her deeply, his fingers fully submerged, fucking into her.

“How does this feel?”

Sucking air into her lungs she felt the dampness of the blanket under her mouth where she’d drooled, “So good. It’s good, Daddy.”

Harry grinned as he began to increase his steady pace to something a little harder, faster. He held onto her low back as he fucked her ass with his fingers. The lube was making it slippery and her tight hole was easing up its grip little by little.

“Want me in here? Want to feel what it’s like to have Daddy’s cock stuffed in this little hole baby?”

She did. Yes, she did. So she nodded and grunted as she tried turning her head the slightest to see him.

Harry had composed himself considerably and he felt that he could last a bit longer, not much, but he could give her a nice preview of what it was like. A good handful of minutes, five he hoped he could last.

With his fingers still inside of her, he poured more lube over her backside, pressing the liquid in and around, and kissed her cheeks softly before finally, slowly, bringing his fingers out.

Harry bent down to continue softly kissing her tush. Making her keen as he neared the sacred little, undefiled hole he planned on desecrating.

When she felt his tongue glide from her core to her ass she shuddered. His lips and tongue on her anus were warm and wet and then she felt cool liquid drip and smear over her bum.

“Keep relaxed like you are, baby. Doing so good for me. Tell me to stop if you need. I will.”

He grasped her hips and tucked his front to her bottom, holding his shaft in his hands he pushed his tip to her hole as he massaged the spot just above her anus. His cock was already covered with her arousal as he began to gently, slowly, tactfully press in.

She immediately tensed and he stopped, “You’re doing good, baby. Just relax for me. Gonna push past this little tight muscle and then it’ll feel like heaven. Okay?”

She panted and nodded. The vibrating wand keeping her aroused and loose.

It was very tight. Harry knew, though, that once he passed the entry and had her spread apart she’d like it. It would feel incredible. Her little opening was slowly relaxing into the intrusion as he nudged his way in, little by little.

It hurt. She could admit that it hurt. But not in an unpleasant, no-go kind of way. In a this’ll only hurt for a second but will be worth it in the end kind of way. She knew that he would take care of her and he was so gentle and soft with his words and his touch that she urged her own body to relax and indulge with him.

The small snap of his tip pressing past her tight ring had her popping her eyes open and groaning. The sting of it made her sinuses burn but then… oh… then it was… oh my! Heavy and achy and divine. Something flipped over from an unpleasant sting to an intense need that wound its way over her backside. Goosebumps erupted over her bottom and she was struck with a full feeling like nothing she’d ever experienced. Her breath caught in her lungs as she felt him slice into her slowly, the pinch disappearing and being replaced with something… something edible, bitable? almost. She couldn’t pinpoint the way to describe how it felt as if she should be biting into something toothsome and mouthwatering. Yummy and textural. But heavily laden with sex and wet and heat.

Harry blew out through his mouth as he slowly entered her. The wand was making everything even feel intense on his cock, “Ooh, you like that don’t you, baby girl? I knew you would. Feels so fucking good.”

Y/n was stuck with her mouth wide open and eyes clamped shut. The saturation of tactile sensation was like a craving being placated. A craving she didn’t know she had until she felt it. She couldn’t move or respond or think. She could only feel. Accept. Surrender.

Harry’s thrusts became tighter as he got into a rhythm, slow and methodical. Not wanting to push her too far, nor himself for that matter. If he could make it last just a few moments longer he would take his time so he could luxuriate in the way she felt on him and the way she looked wrapped tightly around him.

Finally, a gasp from her lips and a moan as her hands balled into fists behind her back. Harry had his fingers digging into the soft flesh on her hips, slowly thudding into her and feeling his heart thunder behind his ribcage.

Her hole began to squeeze around him and her thighs tightened and stiffened as she mouthed unintelligible words and noises into the soft blanket below her face.

Harry blinked his eyes and cooed at her when he realized she was coming. Coming from anal sex. From the wand just barely close enough to stimulate her clit and his cock inside of her.

“Holy fuck… come baby.” Harry wouldn’t come inside of her. Not yet. The sensation might be too much for her on her first time but now he struggled to hold himself back. He didn’t allow himself to look away this time, fully immersing himself in the experience of her coming from his cock reaching as deep as it could possibly go inside of her. Her breathy moans and mumbles of gratification filled the room as the bed gently rocked under his shallow thrusts.

The moment she wobbled and softened as her orgasm began to subside he pulled out as gently as humanly possible before he could come, pumping himself in long strokes, his palm now wetted with his lover’s slick as he pulled his shaft and doused her bottom and low back with his sperm.

Y/n heard him groaning in breathy ecstasy as he poured onto her bum, wet ropes of his come cooled her hot skin when the air hit the wet streaks on her backside as one of his hands clamped onto her hip. She was so close to just collapsing, but Harry’s firm grip kept her hips up.

Harry milked himself as he watched the breathtaking sight of his sweet girl’s puckering hole and drippy pussy coated in his come as it dripped down over her in a sinful font. 

She breathed slowly as she let him finish and then felt his fingers unwrapping the tape from her wrists. When her arms were free she put her palms into the mattress and Harry pulled her down to her side and removed the tape from her ankles and then from her thigh, turning the wand off once and for all. He was still breathing deeply from the exertion of his orgasm. She watched the black tape as he flung it toward the end of the bed and then laid himself behind her body, pressing his chest into her back in silence.

It was nice to be quiet for a moment. The noise of sex and labored breaths, panting, and moans, and metal springs in the bed were now only a lustful memory. But the wetness between her legs and on her back was still very much present. Though she had no mind to get up to clean herself in that moment. To bask in the silence and the soft breaths in Harry’s arms was a treasure.

Harry’s thoughts were all over the place. He’d just had raw sex with her. And anal. And she liked it. And she left her date for him. And she used to be married but her husband was dead. And he was falling for her hard. It was a lot but he welcomed it all.

He ran his fingers through her hair and the nap of her neck was sweaty like his was. She sighed as he felt his heart pounding still. Not from exertion this time but from just being next to her. Having her in his arms. Being with her.

“How do you feel?”

Y/n pried her eyes open and turned to see him from her peripheral, “So relaxed. Really good. But, in truth… it does kind of hurt a little right now. Stings a bit.”

Harry kissed her cheek and smoothed his hand down her hip and was quickly reminded of how messy they were. His come was still on her skin and he’d just smeared it down to her thigh, “Do you have Epsom salt? We can take a warm bath and let you relax a bit. It’ll help.”

Y/n decided that warm baths after sex were her new favorite thing. Well, that could have been because it was with Harry who was attentive and soft and loving. The warm water with Epsom salts did actually soothe her muscles and relaxed her body.

Harry had his head leaned against the wall with his eyes closed and Y/n pressed into his chest, snug between his thighs with the back of her head leaned on his shoulder when Harry finally spoke again, “Be my girlfriend.”

She fluttered her eyes open and pinched her brows together, “Are you asking or are you telling?”

Harry chuckled and pushed his face into her neck, puffs of his breath falling into bursts on her sensitive skin as his chest vibrated against her back, “Asking. Of course. Choice is yours.”

The small peck to the nape of her neck sent goosebumps cascading down her back and sent her heart to wallop around in her chest.

“Are you serious? Why?!”

“Well, geez! You make it seem like you’d never consider it. What’s wrong with being my girlfriend?” Harry jested.

“I just… I’m already trying to wrap my head around the fact that you even want to sleep with me. But… girlfriend?”

“Why would it be hard to believe I want to sleep with you?”

Sighing she sat upward and turned to face the naked tattooed man that sat in her tub, “I’m… well I’m not that attractive. Not on your level of attractive-“

“You’re still on that? Thought I made it clear how gorgeous you are. If anyone should be feeling that way it’s me. I’m lucky you even gave me the time of day.”

The small, surprised smile on her face slowly grew wider. She knew he liked her. She really did. But it still felt so foreign. So unlikely.

Harry’s grin softened as he dragged his gaze down to her tits. He couldn’t help himself. Her body had him boiling hot and the way she was sitting had her breasts peeking out from the water just so. When she pushed at his shoulder with a laugh to bring his attention back up to her face he pulled at her arm and brought her back into his chest, “Be my girlfriend. Please.”

.        .        .

Waking up together was even better than the first time they did it. Because now they were a couple and she was feeling things for Harry she hadn’t felt for anyone in a long time. She was also feeling a bit sore. Again. After she nodded and laughed out an ‘Okay, fine!’ when Harry asked her for the second time (or more so told her) to be his girlfriend they had sex again. But it was much softer. There was no bondage tape or vibrating wand, spanking, or pinching.

Harry laid her down on her bed and fucked into her slowly, their damp bodies slipping together, not having had the foresight to dry off before lying on her comforter. But it didn’t matter. Harry’s languid strokes filled her so perfectly and the bed shifted softly under them in rhythm with his thrusts while he brought them both to orgasm as Harry released inside of her for the first time. They stared at one another as they came. Harry had both of her hands in his, fingers slotted together and arms raised above her head, “My girlfriend. Gonna be so good to you, baby.”

Y/n sighed and gasped at the new sensation. His loving movements and the way he was looking at her, kissing her softly, with his cock deep inside, praises, and promises were all making her lose composure. She could fall in love. She definitely could.

And Harry? Well, that was his goal. He wanted her love and he wanted all of her. She was his and he was already hers. His heart was hers.

Just remembering how sensual and gentle Harry was made her heart burst. She turned her head to see Harry fast asleep still. Dark curls strewn about in a wild mess on his head. She lightly pushed his hair off of his forehead to get a better look at the sleeping beauty. Pink lips smushed into the pillow, dark lashes pressed to his skin… a true beauty.

Before even opening his eyes he spoke, “Morning.”

Y/n grinned and ran her fingers further into his hair now that she knew he was awake. She wanted some more of him. Loved what they’d done the night before. Maybe anal sex could be for another day, she would need a little break back there, but the tape on her wrists and the way she had very little control felt exhilarating. It was like deep sea diving for the first time ever and finding your true passion was marine life and the sea.

She trailed her hand down to his clavicle and traced the inked sparrows, “Did this hurt?”

Harry opened his eyes, tired and puffy as he looked at his lover who was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, so to speak, “Yeah. They all hurt a bit. But it’s part of the process. Started getting tattoos when I was pretty young.”

Y/n nodded and smoothed her hand down over the butterfly and then grazed his nipples with her fingers, “You look so good with all of them. Would you get more?”

He smiled and stretched his arms overhead and then took her hand in his bringing it up to his lips, “Yes. Always thinking about what’s next. You don’t have any yourself I noticed.”

Shaking her head she spoke, “Never thought to get anything. Figured it would hurt too much.”

The sudden cheeky smirk that appeared on his face was a dead giveaway that he was about to say something that matched his expression, “Not any more than a penis in your little bum hole.”

“Oh my god, Harry!” She snorted as he laughed out through his nose, dimples making him look more innocent than he was.

“How do you feel?”

That was a question he seemed to be asking her a lot. And her answer was always the same, “I feel great.”

Keeping her eyes on his she pulled her hand from his and continued to move her hand downward so she could touch his abdomen, fit and tight with a light scattering of hair down to his happy trail. He was naked and the lower she got, the hairier he was under her fingers.

Harry licked his lips and allowed her to continue her path downward with her hand and then parted his lips, letting out a small puff of breath when her palm met his thickening prick.

“Can we go again? And then I’ll make breakfast?” She raised her brows at him as she slide her hand over him, feeling him plump up quickly under her palm.

Harry snorted a small laugh from his nostrils, “Would never say no to that.”

She was swiftly being pushed down to her back and having her thighs pushed apart as Harry positioned himself between her legs, his face kissing down her thick thighs he looked up at her, his lips moving over her skin as he spoke, “Wish I could bite into you. So perfectly plumpy and juicy,” he ran his tongue downward close to her hip before moving over to her other side, “Soft like a pillow,” he moaned as he lowered his face over her cunt.

When he spit down over her clit she groaned as she watched him begin to lick into her. It was sloppy and wet. Not only because she was already wet, but because Harry was drooling and spitting as he went. Lapping her up and spreading her out with his tongue and his fingers.

“Prettiest little pussy. Giving Daddy something to snack on so early. Such a good girl.”

Y/n rolled her eyes to the back of her head and moaned as she let herself fall back into the pillow and enjoy him. One hand worked his fingers into her while his other held her thigh and squeezed her soft skin, adding more bruises to the canvas of her flesh.

Before she could come, right before, Harry lifted his face up and removed his fingers, slowly sliding his hands up her tummy and to her breasts. Gently rolling her nipples between his fingers she gasped, “You’re so fuckable, Y/n. Your tits are begging for something to pinch at them. Can I pretty girl?”

She didn’t know what he meant exactly. She assumed he was going to pinch down harder over her but when she nodded he got up from the bed and pulled out a small stainless steel chain with tiny rubber-tipped clamps at each end her eyes widened.

She pushed herself up to sit as he sat back down next to her, “These can be adjusted so it only pinches as hard as you like. Want to try this out. Is that okay?”

She inspected the chain and clamps and felt her heart race. The man was quite kinky and who would’ve known? If he brought bondage tape and clamps in his bag she wondered what sort of things he had at home. She knew he was into a bit of BDSM, that he was dominant and enjoyed playing with her that way, but it was still somewhat of a shock because his stage persona was sweet and fun and flirty.

She looked up at him and slowly nodded, “Okay. But maybe just like gentle. At first. I’m still really sensitive.”

Harry grinned and put the clamps in her hands before bringing his large palms over her breasts and slowly massaged, “I know you’re sensitive. Which is why I think this is going to feel really good once you get past the initial bit of pain. Go on, try them on. That little knob can make it as tight or loose as you like.”

He watched as she put them on herself. He would have loved to have done the honors but he wanted her to take her time and get the right tension. When the clamps were tight enough to hold on to her nipples and the small chain was hanging down between her breasts Harry delicately pulled at the chain and brought her forward so he could kiss her.

The feel of the clamps tugging on her nipples sent a shock of ice down her body. Was she crazy to be letting this happen at… she turned her head to see the time on the clock- 8:39 am? Yes. Perhaps she was crazy.

“Don’t look at the time. We’re not punching a clock today, are we? We’re just gonna have a bit of fun and then have some breakfast.”

Y/n laughed but it was quickly cut off by his small yank, her nipples perking under the pull of the clamp.

Harry moved off the bed, his hard cock bobbing as he shifted and pulled Y/n so her bottom was at the edge of the mattress. He pulled her legs up over his thighs and painted his cock through her labia, wet and ready. The sound of him pushing her arousal around was drowned out by her moans when he pulled at the center of the chain at the same time as he entered her.

Harry’s feet were on the floor, one hand at her hip and the other on the chain as he rocked into her. He gently pulled the chain each time he pushed deep into her, her breasts being tugged upward.

“Oh my god!” She panted her words as he began to fuck into her with more muscle, his strong thighs steadying and working himself into her harder.

“Like that? So pretty like this, baby,” Harry cooed at his girlfriend as he manipulated her tits. He didn’t want to yank too hard but he loved how she clenched around each time he pulled at the chain.

“Ffuck!” Y/n did like it. She was surprised. Harry was so good at what he did, only tugging the chain and making her nipples pinch when he dipped into her achingly deep. He knew what he was doing. Trying to help her equate the pain from her nipples being wrenched up by the clamps with the pleasure of his cock gliding through her walls. Pain with pleasure. It worked. She was so wet and so desperate to come in record time that even Harry was surprised. He figured she’d enjoy it but she was fast to respond.

“Ooh! Oh, ffff! M’gonna come, Harry!!”

Harry groaned a laugh, though nothing they were doing was funny. He was only caught off guard by how fast she was being tipped over the edge.

Pulling his cock out quickly she gasped and whined, “What?! Harry?”

“How do you address me?” He raised his brows and swatted her thigh with a pop.

“Fuck!” She groaned. It was going to take some getting used to, calling him Daddy, “Sorry. I keep forgetting,” she panted, “Daddy.”

Harry lifted the chain upward slowly, pulling her tits upward as he cocked his to the side and watched her face twist up, “I think you should tighten this a little. Let’s take the training wheels off shall we?”

Y/n’s eyes widened, already feeling the discomfort of the clamps as he tugged her nipples. But just underneath that discomfort was electrostatic energy bursting in her veins that gave her a rush of arousal. In other words, she was very turned on by it and Harry could see that.

“I’m not sure I can. It’s already so tight,” she spoke in breaths.

“Well then just say you can’t and we won’t,” he countered.

She kept her eyes on his, understanding that she could say no and he’d stop. But did she want to say no? Did she think that maybe having the clamps a little tighter might feel a little more painful and be too much? Or possibly even spark something that turned her on even more?

Harry waited a bit for her to answer, knowing she was trying to determine what she wanted. This was all new to her after all.

“Do you want me to do it for you?”

Harry let go of the chain and reverently kneaded her fleshy breasts as his thumbs swiped just under her clamped nipples.

“Okay. Yes. Please. You do it. Just a little, though. I’m nervous.”

Harry grinned as he brought his gaze over her beautiful tits and started with the left side, twisting the knob to tighten the clamp little by little. He watched her face when she let out a huff of a gasp, “Okay?”

She nodded her head and looked at him, “Yeah. You can do a little more.”

Y/n was surprised that she could have the clamps any tighter than they had been, but the pinch was welcome.

Mostly.

“Okay! That’s enough!”

Harry chuckled as he released the knob and stopped twisting, “Want more on this side?”

Y/n was panting as she nodded, “Yes, just slowly- oh god…”

He began twisting the clamp to tighten slowly, her nipples being compressed under the rubber tips.

“Yes. Okay, that’s good.”

“Good girl. Now. What can I do to help you to remember the proper way to address me? Hmm?”

She was still lying flat on the mattress as Harry stood with his feet planted on the floor, his hard cock just above her, where he was inside of her only moments earlier. She swallowed and pushed herself up a bit, “Is this not enough?” She gestured over the clamps.

Harry grinned and shook his head, “I mean, I think you like it. That’s not really punishment at all is it?”

Her mouth dropped open and she looked to the corner of the room before turning her gaze back up to the naked man above her, “I don’t know.” Her voice was small suddenly.

“Well, then I’ve got an idea,” Harry spoke casually as he backed away from the bed, “You are so good at giving head and I really need to come so I’m gonna fuck your mouth while I pull at that chain. You had enough orgasms last night I think. Perhaps today you don’t get to come at all. You’re just gonna be Daddy’s little fuck toy today instead. How’s that sound?”

Sitting up fully, pressing her palms into the mattress she scrunched her brows together. No orgasm? She guessed this was part of the way he played. The way he liked to do things sometimes. And if she was going to do this with him then she figured she’d go along with it. Even though she really really wanted to come.

“Like orgasm denial?”

Harry gave her a mocking smile, “Yes. Like orgasm denial. So you learn your lesson and remember to call me Daddy.”

She nodded and stayed put in her spot, “Okay. Whatever you want, Daddy.”

“Good girl. Lie back on the bed but have your head right here at the edge so I can put your mouth to good use.” And so he could pull at the chain connected to the clamps secured to her nipples and give her a bit of pleasure. A bit of pain.

She did as she was told, scooting her body around until her head was at the edge of the bed and she could see Harry standing over her upside down.

Harry gently stroked over her neck, “I’m fuck this pretty throat until I come,” he pulled at the chain, “and tug at this while I do so.”

She groaned at the feel of her heavy breasts being lifted up by her nipples.

“If you need me to stop just pinch my thigh or something. But I expect you to be a good girl and to take your punishment nicely. Then later on if I’m feeling generous maybe I’ll let you come.”

He instructed her to open her mouth up and stick her tongue out. Harry dipped himself in past her plump lips and pulled out before thrusting in again slightly deeper, only to pull out as he watched strings of spit from her mouth stick to his cock. Holding himself at the base he tapped her lips with the crown of his prick and she tasted herself all over him. His entire shaft tasted of her, his balls and the pubic hair, coated in her arousal still.

Finally, he plunged in and pushed himself down her throat and watched it bulge with his long dick. At first, he started off slowly. Letting her get used to the sensation, pulling out a little to let her catch her breath and delicately pulling at the chain, causing her to moan around his cock in a delicious torment.

She had never had her throat fucked before. And it wasn’t what she’d call pleasant. Nor was getting her tits tugged at by the metal implement clamped to them. But his groans and choked words made her heart pound. He was enjoying the way she felt. He was using her body to get off and somehow, in some sick and twisted part of her brain, that was hot. It was so enticing to be a thing for Harry Styles to get off on. To use and to fuck and to come inside of.

The harder he went in and the more she gagged around him the more she enjoyed the feeling of the discomfort his cock caused her. The drool that dripped down her face into her ears cooled her skin and her tongue was beginning to ache from the rigid position she was holding it.

But it was the way he was tugging her nipples that sent that familiar electrostatic burst through her veins and it felt… like she could burst. She tried squeezing her thighs together and rolled her hips upward as she clamped her eyes closed and moaned around his cock. She was given a moment to take in a breath before he thrust back into her throat and he moaned, “Fucking, gorgeous, baby. Hottest woman I’ve ever seen.”

The praise had her head spinning and the arousal that was slowly building continued to flow through her core. She was unable to control the way her body responded to her nipples being painfully wrangled under the clamps.

Harry could see her clenching her thighs and swaying her hips as she moaned and gurgled. God, he’d found the perfect woman. She didn’t even know she liked any of this before him. It’s a good thing they met, he thought to himself with a smirk.

“Holy… fuck, fuck…” Harry coughed his words as his hips stuttered. He tugged the chain and watched as he manipulated her beautiful tits to his liking as his balls began to tighten. He knew he’d come fast like this. He’d already been on the verge earlier when he fucked her pussy.

He pulled himself out as he kept the chain in his hand with her breasts lifted upward. He needed a moment. He wanted to come but wanted to make it dramatic.

Releasing the chain he bent down to put his lips over hers and cooed, “So good. My little come vessel? You ready for Daddy’s load? Gonna take it like a good girl?”

Y/n groaned and raised her hips, needing something, anything. God, she was on edge but she knew her punishment was that she couldn’t come. Not yet anyway. She’d be sure to be very good and very sweet so maybe he’d let her come later. She realized she liked this a lot.

“Yes, Daddy. I’m ready.” Her words came out in a rasp.

“Open up that mouth wide,” he spoke, his face still hovering over hers as he tapped her cheeks.

She reopened her mouth and stuck her tongue out then suddenly felt his saliva slide down her tongue and into her throat, catching her off guard the slightest bit. But just as quickly as she realized that he’d spit into her mouth he was repositioning himself over her and stuffing his cock down her throat.

Harry’s gasps and moans were like music to her ears. She loved his singing voice, and the way he sounded when he was fucking her was quite the same she determined. He had a pretty voice whether he was talking, singing, or fucking.

This time, his thrusts were rough as he yanked at her nipples. Her eyes went wide at the sudden sharp pain but then the spark drove down her ribcage into her tummy and shocked her cunt with a dose of arousal she had not expected. She’d heard of women being able to come from nipple play alone and now she got it. She understood it now as her throat was being railed and air was being blocked from getting into her lungs. She moaned and rolled her hips as Harry pressed in balls deep and gritted his teeth.

She tasted the first bit of his come as he gasped and then pulled out. She gulped air into her lungs and then felt his come pour out onto her lips, her chin, and eyes, then over her neck and down to her tits that were being tugged at harshly. It hurt and it felt like heaven.

Her mouth was wide open as she sucked in oxygen and arched her back toward the pull of the clamps as Harry drained himself on her, his own loud moans overtaking any noise she might be making.

Suddenly he pressed his cock back into her throat and released the last bit of his come down her esophagus and into her belly before pulling back out and stroking his cock over her face, milking the last bit of his release over her cheeks and nose.

Her chest was heaving just as hard as his. She groaned when he let go of the chain. She thought for a moment, the smallest moment, that she would come if he continued pulling at her nipples the way he was. Her buds were sore and pulsing but the radiating pain was coupled with that pleasure that she always got when she was turned on and slippery wet.

Harry stood back and looked over Y/n’s body, “See? I’m an artist too? I can sing and I can paint,” he laughed lowly as he helped her sit up and smirked, “My canvass is beautiful, though, so it was easy to make pretty.”

She laughed and shook her head, “Wow. A real comedian.”

“I am known to crack a few good ones. My fans love my jokes.”

She gestured toward her face, “Uh, can I… ?”

Harry helped her into the bathroom to clean up. She was quite the mess. While he handed her a damp towel to wipe off he loosened the clamps slowly and pulled each one off.

She hissed once the implement was removed from her final nipple and Harry groped at her tits and licked over each nipple, giving a proper kiss over them before standing upright and clapping his hands together, “Time for breakfast!”

.        .        .

Most of the weekend was spent at her house. Harry fucked her, tied her up, clamped her nipples again (which she requested), and spanked her as she came around his cock while he had her lying flat on her tummy.

It was… fun. She had fun with him.

On Sunday afternoon they went out to the little pizzeria in town and sat in the dining room to eat the Neapolitan-style pizza they ordered.

“So, I guess now that you’re my girlfriend I should warn you, and I’m sure you know this, about what to kind of expect.”

This had her attention. She knew they needed to discuss some of the details.

“You and I will be photographed together occasionally. Sometimes it’ll be fans that catch us, sometimes the paparazzi will know where I’m at. They already know my schedule, my usual hotels, the gym I go to, things like that. And they’ll probably start to learn yours as well. You may see them yards away and not even realize it at first.”

Y/n sipped her coffee as Harry explained what she might experience with the paparazzi and his fans.

“But it will be more invasive than just that. People will find out everything they can about you. They’ll make up lies about you and me. Some straight-up wild conspiracies. They’ll be mean. Some might even reach out to you directly and threaten you.”

“Has that happened before? An ex was threatened?” She raised her brows in surprise.

Harry nodded, “Yes. Some years ago an ex was at my concert and she was cornered and we had to get security involved. So, after that, I learned that anyone I date has to have security nearby if they’re at my concert. Also, direct messages on Instagram or Twitter too. But that’s not as scary. You can limit who comments on your posts or just make your accounts private.”

Harry reached across the table and took her hand in his, “But I need you to keep trusting me. To ignore what you read and probably just don’t read it at all. It’s best to not even open up the comments section when you see photos of yourself or us anywhere.”

Just then, as if by some kind of karmic summoning, a light flashed and the sound of a cellphone's camera rang out, two, then three times. Harry put his hand up, “That’s enough. Would be polite if you asked first next time.”

The two young girls, who were actually closer to your age than anything, squeaked out a sorry! before scurrying off.

Harry pointed toward where the girls were headed, “That’s a good example right there. Taking our photos and videos without our permission while we’re at dinner. They might not share it with anyone but chances are at some point those photos will be seen. I just want you to be prepared.”

Y/n nodded and realized that now, people were looking. They hadn’t noticed before but suddenly they were aware that Harry Styles was sitting only feet away in a small pizzeria in suburbia Illinois with a woman. The girls with their forced impromptu photo op had alerted the other patrons         of his presence. She sighed.

“So, can you do that? Keep trusting me?”

She nodded again, “Yeah. I think so. I guess we’ll see how it goes but I like you a lot. I want to see where this goes.”

Harry squeezed her hand, “Good. I hope you feel I’m worth it. It’s going to get a bit bumpy but if you can ignore that sort of nonsense and noise then we’re gonna be great.”

The pizza was delicious. Y/n knew it would be. She’d eaten at the pizzeria many times and she knew she had to bring Harry before he left. They’d been doing nothing but eating delivery, having sex, taking baths, and sleeping the whole time. It was necessary to get out of her house and comb her hair once and for all and it felt good. But she did feel the grating presence of eyes on them as they ate and even when they left the restaurant together.

Back at her house, she pouted as Harry started to pack some of his things away. She wasn’t ready for their little weekend to end.

“Hey, no pouting,” Harry said as he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her forehead, “I’ve got an idea.”

Tilting her head back to look up at him she raised a brow in question.

“Come back with me. To LA. We can ship all your stuff to my house and then you can come with me to Europe. I don’t want to be away from you.”

Blinking her eyes and shaking her brain of the puzzlement she continuously seemed to feel with him she smiled with her eyes wide, “Really? You want me to come with you?”

Harry shrugged with a dimpled grin, “Course I do. I need you to. Will you?”

“I mean… I can’t fly out with you tomorrow. I’ve got to get a few things to get in order but it’ll take only a few days. When do you leave for Europe?”

“Week and a half.”

“Um… Well, how about I fly out to LA a few days before you leave and… if you really want then I can come with you- but are you sure? Is that not too much?”

“I can do what I want, Y/n. This is my gig. I want you there. I need you there.”

Swallowing down her doubts and looking at his mouth and then to his eyes she felt nothing but excitement in her bones as she nodded, “Okay. I’ll go with you to Europe.”

Chapter 4

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[hideflowers]

Godness I want so much a angst between qtubbo and ramon, from the point of view of a child who FINALLY has two dads who love each other and love him, qtubbo is being SO selfish

he can finally be a child

he can play and be immature, without worrying about his father being a single father, without worrying about causing him more trouble

he has two dads now! two dads who love him, one of them wants to throw a party just for the adoption!!

he loves his new pai, he feels safe with him, he likes to be by his side, he is a child with him!!

He's still that child who had to mature very quickly, he's still that little boy who was forbidden from going out to play

But now, he's also his daddy's little boy

It's not fair for the guy he sees as an older brother to do this, doesn't he want to see Ramon happy? Why does he want to destroy his dads relationship? Didn't he see how happy Ramon was?

it's unfair.

[freesidexjunkie]

okay I know some of yall might disagree but when Anders says that it was his anger that changed Justice, I think he's wrong

Justice says when you first bring him out of the Fade that being outside of the Fade for too long can warp a spirit into a demon. The physical world is too dynamic for such a single minded entity to remain so steadfast. We see this with wisdom being turned into pride, compassion being turned into fear... and justice. He starts off adamant he does not want to stay outside of the Fade, but he doesn't want to die either. And you can see the character changes in him over the course of Awakening. He even talks about how he can see why some spirits become demons in some of his party banter.

Justice has a sense that he is always right, because that is what he is supposed to be. Without a doubt, he embodies what is right and good. There is no question about this; as a being of the Fade, his nature is certain and unchanging. Anders, on the other hand, already believes he's in the wrong for his existence; it's all he has ever been told. He's a mage who wants to be free, he's selfish, he's immature, etc etc.

So, when Justice takes up residence in Anders' body and he is full of anger and vengeance, it's very natural for them both to believe it has to be the rebel mage's fault, not the lawful spirit, right?

Unless Justice has already been outside of the Fade for too long.

I don't think Anders warped Justice into Vengeance with his "dark thoughts" of "hating the templars." Anders is the one pleading with Justice to not kill the girl they're trying to save; Anders is the one holding back when Justice takes over and makes him black out; Anders is the one who is perfectly happy to just live his life freely without toppling the world order, before Justice.

I think Anders is the reason why Justice is Vengeance, but I think it's because Justice was already a long way down the path to becoming Rage. I think Anders' sense of right and helping people is the thing molding Justice into as close to a force for good as he could be now.

[inamindfarfaraway]

Here’s a sad thought about Princess Jasmine in Twisted: The Untold Story of a Royal Vizier, courtesy of listening to the soundtrack again and feeling the feelings about her and Ja’far: this version of the Sultan must be a really bad father.

We never see him interact with his stepdaughter. He already seems rather senile when he steals Scheherazade, and that’s sixteen years before the present day. His sanity may well have completely gone in that time. Even if it didn’t, he makes it clear in his one appearance that he considers everyone in his power to be objects defined entirely by how they can benefit him and remorselessly will torture, enslave and murder them on a whim. I doubt that he’d be sensitive or nurturing toward his child. Now, I think Scheherazade would be a great mother - but she never got to try.

The Sultan has evidently been very neglectful and distant, failing in his duties to teach the Princess how to be both a good person and a good member of royalty. Despite her being his only heir and old enough to marry and rule the kingdom, which apparently has no problem with a female sovereign, he’s let her grow up to be extremely sheltered and not at all adequately prepared for responsibility and politics. It doesn’t even occur to her that having her tiger assault a neighbouring country’s visiting prince might have consequences. The Sultan, and on his behalf the Captain of the Guard, don’t let her know important news and royal decrees: neither what a menace Aladdin is, leaving her vulnerable to him, nor the Sultan’s mass execution of the 2D Department, since for as insensitively egocentric as she is at the beginning, she’s still deeply sentimental and quick to empathize with the homeless peasant Aladdin, so I can’t believe that she wouldn’t be at least a little upset with the Sultan (or more likely Ja’far) over so many lost human lives.

More than that, her immaturity speaks to bad parenting on the most basic level. She hasn’t internalized the Sultan’s cruelty, but has learned his selfishness, entitlement, impulsiveness and poor emotional regulation. Her social skills are notably clumsy and underdeveloped (not picking up on Aladdin’s numerous red flags, “No high five”, “At least Abdul had a family who loved him!”, even cringing herself at the last one). The Sultan’s passed down absolutely zero wisdom of any kind.

Instead it’s Ja’far with whom she has a familiar father-daughter dynamic (“What’s up, are you mad at me?” “Where are you going?” “There she is!”). It’s him who shows concern when she runs away and gives the order to find her before all else, notices that she’s upset and talks her through her feelings, warns her about sexual predators, appreciates her idealism and effort. It’s him who provides the gentle but firm, healthy guidance and challenge that she needs to grow. Who sees her potential, respects and believes in her. Who loves her. However, he is ultimately in her service. Between the imbalanced power dynamic making him wary of treason (after all, the last time he had a stronger relationship than the Sultan with a woman the Sultan called his, it didn’t end well) and his other responsibilities taking away from their time together, he can’t be as influential a presence in his life as he’d like.

Maybe this why she’s initially so resentful of him. Subconsciously she does see him as a father all along, but he hurts her and lets her down sometimes. Like the Sultan, her only official parent, always has. That stings. The differences are that the Sultan hurts her much more, more consistently and without her best interests at heart… but Ja’far is the one she can lash out at and complain to and be a messy adolescent around, because firstly, he’s her subject instead of her ruler, and secondly, he’s actually involved in her life. He cares, and therefore yelling or halfheartedly trying to poison his wine will make an impact. The Sultan is untouchable. We know that she conflates the two in her head as unjust authority figures keeping her trapped and crushing her aspirations (“All the people who say I’m just dreaming, like Father and Ja’far”, one of the only times she mentions the Sultan). It’s easier to blame your problems on an employee everybody else hates than accept that your parent is a bad one.

Maybe this is the root of her discontentment as well, her yearning that she can’t articulate for something more than what the life she’s been given. The joke of “Everything and More” is that she doesn’t need anything besides what she has… but she does. She needs a competent, reliable parent. One who she can trusts loves her the person as her parent, not a servant of her bloodline, and she knows to love as such in turn.

No wonder she falls for “Orphaned at Thirty-Three” hook, line and sinker. She’s never known her mother. Her relationships with her paternal figures range from terrible to complicated. Having unconditionally loving, supportive parents and then suddenly losing them must be the worst thing she can imagine.

But in the end, the Sultan dies and her dad has to leave her. Although he found a way to live forever, it wasn’t enough to save her from the pain of being orphaned at sixteen.